"He said it was urgent, madame," Aubrey explained.
"Thank you, Aubrey. Let me check on Pearl first, Beau." I ran upstairs and found her fast asleep. Mrs. Ferrier came out of the adjoining room to tell me everything was fine. Then I went down to the office and called Paul while Beau sat on the sofa.
"It's worse than we thought," he said in a voice so low and dejected, I thought I was listening to a stranger. His words were a little distorted, too, suggesting he had been drinking. "My doctor says it's the worse case he's ever encountered. She went into severe epileptic seizures and now she's in a deep coma."
"Oh no, Paul. What does the doctor say now?"
"He told me that if she did live, he's almost certain she would have permanent brain damage and, most likely, persistent epilepsy."
"How horrible. What do you want to do?"
"What is there for me to do? For any of us to do? It's what you and Beau hoped for, isn't it?" he said with an uncharacteristic note of bitterness.
"No," I said in a small voice.
"What do you mean, no? Didn't you tell me how you once went to a Voodoo Mama to get a spell cast on her?" he said. Why did he have to remind me?
"That was a long time ago, Paul, and I regretted it immediately afterward."
"Well, apparently that spell is still working. I'm happy for the two of you," he said.
"Paul. . ."
"I have to go now. I have something to do," he said, and hung up, before I could say another word.
"What is it?" Beau asked, seeing me holding the phone and staring. My heart was pounding and I felt as if the blood had drained from my face.
I told him what Paul had said about Gisselle's condition.
"I don't understand. It's not any different than I first described to him."
"He didn't believe it. I know he was hoping he would get her cured and thus bring me back," I said.
"What's he going to do?" Beau asked.
"I don't know. He sounded so strange to me, Beau, not like Paul. I think he'd been drinking."
"He made a commitment to us," Beau said firmly. "I'm going to hold him to it."
He got up quickly to embrace me, and I laid my head on his shoulder. He kissed my hair and stroked it gently as he kissed me again, whispering soothing words into my ear.
"It will be all right. Everything's going fine. It's meant to be," he insisted, but Paul's words had made my blood run cold and drain down to my ankles.
"I can't get rid of this sick feeling in the base of my stomach, Beau. I love you and I want to be with you and I want Pearl to be with you, but it's like a dark cloud hovers above us always, no matter how blue the sky."
"That feeling will pass," he promised. "Just give yourself a chance."
"I think we better go see Paul next week, Beau. We would bring Pearl back to see him anyway, wouldn't we?"
"I suppose," he said, but I saw he didn't like the idea.
Every day for the next few days, I called Paul to see how things were. Most of the time, he was not at home. The servants told me he was at the hospital holding vigil. At first he didn't return any of my calls, and then, when he did, he sounded stranger and stranger. I almost didn't recognize his voice the last time we spoke.
"She remains in a deep coma. There's talk now of putting her on a machine to breathe," he said in a voice that seemed devoid of feeling, the voice of someone who had had all the emotion drained out of him until he was just the shell of his former self.
"Paul, you're wearing yourself down. James told me you're hardly ever home anymore. You spend day and night at the hospital."
"A man should be at his wife's side at times like these, don't you think?" he asked, followed by a chilling little laugh. "He should be at her bedside, holding her hand, talking softly to her, pleading, begging, encouraging her to snap out of the coma, if not for his sake, for the sake of their child. Everyone at the hospital understands. They all feel so sorry for me. The nurse even cried herself today. I saw her wiping the tears away," he said.
For a moment it was as if I were the one who couldn't breathe. I felt my chest turn to stone, my heart freeze within. I tried to swallow and to speak, but I couldn't. I heard him sigh.
"You never understood, did you? Not really, I mean. You're married, but what's marriage to you? A convenient union serving your own selfish purposes?" he said, his voice coming almost like the hiss of a snake.
"Paul, please. . ."
"You should see how small she's getting, Gisselle. She's wilting like a flower in that bed, her beauty decomposing right before my eyes."
"What? What did you call me?"
"You know what I tell people? I tell them the angels were jealous. They looked down on us and saw how perfect our love was. Even heaven was not as perfect and so they conspired out of envy to cause this tragedy. Too romantic for you, Gisselle? You were never very romantic, were you? What was a man to you . . . a partner in bed, someone to tease and torment. You were jealous of your sister because she had the capacity to love and you didn't, right?
"Oh, what a miserable thing jealousy is. It rots you from inside. You'll see, Gisselle. You'll see. I feel sorry for you and for all the women of the world who don't have the capacity to love as Ruby had."
A numb kind of sensation in my chest made me feel unreal. "Paul, why are you talking like this? Is there someone standing near you? Why are you saying these things?"
"Why? Because . . . because I'm sick to death of the good suffering and the bad enjoying all the pleasure and happiness in this world. That's why. Anyway, thanks for calling. You did your duty. You can ease your conscience and go back to your pursuit of pleasures."
"Paul!"
"I'm tired. I need to get a drink and then try to get a little sleep. Good night, Gisselle. Oh, say hello to your dashing, debonair husband. I'm sure he feels lucky his wife isn't the sick-to-death one."
"Paul!" I cried as the phone went silent. I stood there holding the receiver in my hand as if it were a dead bird. Then I ran to find Beau. He was in the office going over some business documents, and looked up with surprise.
"What's wrong?" he asked immediately.
I told him about Paul and what he had been doing all week.
Beau thought a moment and then shrugged. "Just sounds like he's taken the responsibility of his role in all this seriously and he's putting in a good performance. We should be grateful."
"No, Beau. You don't understand. You don't know Paul. He wouldn't say the things he said to me. He's not well. I want to go to Cypress Woods tomorrow. We have to go, Beau. Don't try to talk me out of it!"
"All right. We'll do it," he said. "Calm down. Are you sure he's not just playing to your feelings, taking advantage of them?"
"I don't think so. You don't know how strange he sounded. Beau," I said, looking up with my eyes wide and full of anxiety. "He called me Gisselle and spoke about her as Ruby."
"So? That was the idea."
"But I don't think anyone was listening in. He had no reason to call me Gisselle."
Beau thought a moment. "Maybe he was just drunk," he said. "Confused."
"It put a chill through me," I said, embracing myself. "What have we done? Beau, what have we done?"
"Stop it," Beau cried, springing up from his seat. He took my shoulders into his hands, his fingers feeling like steel through the thin fabric of my blouse. "Just stop this now, Ruby. You're going to get yourself all worked up for nothing. He's upset that you're with me now and he's not taking that well. He'll get used to it and this will all end as we expected it would. Gisselle's condition isn't our fault. It happened and we just took advantage of the opportunity. Paul agreed to it, helped make it possible. Now he's feeling sorry for himself. Well, I'm sorry about that, but it's too late to turn back, and he's going to have to realize it and get hold of himself. Just as you must," he added sternly.
I pulled back my tears and nodded. "Yes, Beau. I'm sure you're right. I'm sorry I got a little hysterical."
"Hey. You've been doi
ng fantastically. I understand the pressure you've been under and I appreciate it, but you can't lose it now."
I nodded again. "Okay, Beau. I'm all right."
"Sure?"
"Yes."
He kissed me on the forehead and held me to him tightly, kissing my cheeks and stroking my hair. When he looked at me, his soft eyes caressed me.
"I won't let anything happen and I certainly won't ever lose you again, Ruby. I love you more than anything." We kissed and then he put his arm around my shoulders and walked me out. We kissed again at the foot of the stairway. I started up, pausing to look down at him. He gave me a big smile. I took a deep breath and told myself he was right. Tomorrow we would go see Paul and we would calm him down, too.
It's all meant to be, I chanted, as I continued up the stairs. It's all meant to be.
13
Almost Caught
.
Late the following morning after Beau had
returned from the office, we set out for Cypress Woods. I was in deep thought and silent for most of the journey. Beau tried to distract me by discussing some of the Dumas business enterprises, and then just before we arrived, he revealed that Bruce Bristow had been calling and making new threats concerning what he would reveal about Daphne's past shady deals if he didn't receive a better settlement.
"What did you tell him?" I asked.
"I told him to do whatever he wanted, called his bluff. The word on the street is, he's not doing so well. He's been gambling and lost most of what he had managed to get from the estate. Now the bank is threatening to foreclose on his apartment building," Beau said.
"He'll be trouble, Beau, like a pebble in your shoe. You think you shook it out, but after you start walking again, it's still there."
Beau laughed. "Don't worry.Ill shake him out," he replied. "He's not much of a challenge."
I was a little surprised at Beau's arrogance. I feared he had been around Gisselle too long.
The sky had turned completed gray and overcast by the time we pulled into Cypress Woods. The dreary feeling it imposed on me was thickened by the lack of activity around the great house. Where were the gardeners, the grounds staff? Cypress Woods always looked like a bee-hive to anyone, buzzing with bustle and hustle. Paul was so proud of our property, he wouldn't tolerate a weed in the garden. Both Beau and I noticed that some of the oil wells were not being worked as efficiently. The pall that had fallen over the bayou mansion and its spectacular surroundings was as heavy as the humidity and almost as oppressive.
"Looks deserted," Beau mumbled. My heart tripped and then began to pound as we stopped in front of the house. Pearl had fallen asleep in her seat. "I'll get her," Beau said.
The fear I had had about returning to Cypress Woods as Gisselle proved valid. Suddenly I was a stranger in what had been my own precious home. I would have to ring the doorbell and wait, and those who greeted me would greet me as an outsider. My heart would burst with the desire to cry out the truth. Beau sensed my anxiety and, with Pearl asleep on his shoulder, squeezed my hand and smiled reassuringly.
"Take it easy. You'll do just fine," he said, but uneasiness pervaded my entire being.
We walked up to the front door and rang. Moments later, James greeted us.
I could see from the expression on his face, the way his eyes had darkened and the lines had deepened, that he was very distraught and cheerless. Our servants were always so involved with us and so close that our moods affected them.
"Hello, James," I said, unable to effect the condescending tone Gisselle usually had when she addressed servants, whether they be her servants or someone else's. James gazed at me with dull, empty eyes. He didn't appear to hear my true self in my voice, having no reason to think I was other than my sister, Gisselle, whom I knew he didn't particularly care for anyway.
"Good afternoon, madame. Monsieur," he said, bowing his head slightly. Then he saw Pearl and his eyes brightened some. "And how is the little one?"
"Fine," I said.
"Is Monsieur Tate at home?" Beau asked.
"He returned from the hospital just a short while ago," James said, stepping back. "Mademoiselle Tate and Madame Pitot are with him in the study," he added. I glanced at Beau. It would be the first time Paul's sisters would see me as Gisselle.
James led us down the corridor. How strange it felt to walk through the house now and look at the things that had been mine. I gazed up the stairway toward what had been my suite. Beau and I exchanged another glance, and I saw he was deeply worried about me now that I was actually in the house. I could feel the flush in my face. My heart was pounding, but I took a deep breath and nodded.
"I'm all right," I whispered.
James paused at the doorway of the study. "Monsieur and Madame Andreas," he announced, and stepped back.
Paul was on the sofa, slouched down in the corner, a glass of bourbon in his hand. His hair was disheveled and he looked like he had slept in his clothes. Jeanne sat across from him, her eyes bloodshot from crying, and Toby sat on the other end of the sofa, looking dour, her hands folded in her lap.
But Jeanne's eyes brightened when she set eyes on us, and for a moment, my heart skipped. Did she know it was me and not my sister? I almost wished she did. However, that wasn't what had lifted the gloom for her. It was the sight of Pearl.
"The baby!" she cried, and got up. "How is she doing?"
"Just fine," Beau said.
Pearl, realizing we had stopped moving, lifted her head and squinted as she tweaked her nose like a rabbit.
"Oh, darling, sweet Pearl," Jeanne cried. "Let me hold her."
Beau handed her to Jeanne, whom Pearl immediately recognized. She smiled and Jeanne flooded her cheeks with kisses, squeezing her lovingly to her.
"Well now," Paul said, "this is an unexpected honor, Monsieur and Madame Andreas in the flesh." His lips moved to twist into a grotesque mockery.
"Anything new, Paul?" I asked quickly, ignoring his sarcasm.
"New?" He looked at Toby, pretending we had asked the simplest nonchalant question. "Anything new, Toby?"
"There's no change for the better," Toby said sadly. "In fact, this morning they decided to put her on a breathing apparatus."
"Care for a drink, Beau?" Paul said, lifting his glass.
"No, none for me, thanks."
"Too early in the day for you Creoles?" he quipped.
"Paul," Jeanne snapped. "Why don't you say hello to your child?"
Paul gazed at Pearl a moment and then nodded.
"Bring her to me," he asked. Jeanne did so. Paul didn't take her from Jeanne, but he reached up and stroked Pearl's hair before kissing her cheek. Then he sat back and sighed so deeply, I thought his heart had shattered in his chest.
"I'll take the baby for a little walk and get her something to eat," Jeanne said quickly.
"Good idea," Toby said. "I'll go speak to Letty and see about getting you something to eat, too."
"Don't trouble anyone," Beau said.
"Trouble anyone?" Paul lifted his eyes and laughed. "Anyone here troubled?"
Toby paused in front of us and smirked. "He's been drinking heavily ever since Ruby was taken to the hospital," she explained. "He's stopped looking after his business and just sits around now wallowing in self-pity. My parents are at their wits' end, especially my mother. She doesn't eat; she doesn't sleep worrying about him. See if you can do anything with him," she whispered. "I'm sorry."
"It's all right," Beau said.
"What's that?" Paul cried. "Did someone say it's all right?"
After Toby left, I crossed the room and stood in front of Paul and folded my arms across my chest to glare down at him sternly.
"What are you trying to prove, Paul? What are you doing to yourself?"
"Nothing. I'm not proving anything." He lifted his arms and shrugged. "Just accepting what Fate has decided will be my destiny. Right from the beginning, I was chasing a dream. Every time I thought I had turned it to reality, Fate came busti
ng in to splatter the dream over the bayou like so much swamp mud." He paused to gaze up at me and his eyes narrowed in the strangest dark way.
"You didn't know her, but Ruby's grandmere Catherine used to say if you swim against the tide, you'll drown," he said. It was as if he had poked a stick in my ribs.
"Stop it, Paul. Stop this overacting. The three of us know the truth. There's no need to pretend like this in front of ourselves."
"Truth? Did you mention the truth? Funny word coming from your lips, or anyone's lips for that matter," he added, and then looked up again. "What is the truth? Is it that love is really a cruel sword we turn on ourselves, exquisite torment? Or is it that only the chosen, the lucky few," he said, gazing up at Beau, "are meant to be happy on this earth? Under what star were you born that you should realize such happiness, Monsieur Beau Andreas?"
"I don't know the answer to that, Paul," Beau said softly. "But I do know that what you promised to Ruby must be kept."
"Oh, I always keep my promises," he said, eyeing me now. "I'm not the sort who doesn't."
"Paul, please. . ."
"It's all right," he muttered. He finished his drink in a gulp. "I have to lie down awhile." He struggled to stand, falling back and then pulling himself up again. "You two make yourselves at home. My sisters will look after you."
I looked at Beau desperately.
"Hey, Paul, listen," Beau said in a reasonable tone of voice, "let us help you with this burden now. We realize you took on too much. Let's move Gisselle to a hospital in New Orleans and--"
"Move her to a hospital in New Orleans just to ease my burden?" He shook his right forefinger in Beau's face. "You're speaking about the woman I love," Paul said, swaying. He smiled. "I pledged to have and to hold, through sickness and through health, until death do us part."
"Paul . ."
He pushed me aside. "I've got to lie down," he said, and stumbled_ his way out of the room.
"Let him get some sleep," Beau said. "Later he'll sober up and be more sensible."
I nodded, but a moment later, we heard Paul fall on the stairway. We ran out and found he had rolled down a few steps and was sprawled at the base. James was already at his side, trying to get him up.
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