The answer must be in here somewhere, Althea told herself as she opened the chest. She found old papers, car titles to vehicles Ruby long since disposed of. She found a deed to some land in Saint Bernard Parish, a will allocating Althea twenty-five dollars to be added to her dowry upon marriage, old receipts, and pictures of people she never knew. She tossed them aside.
Further down she found a baby picture of herself and of her mother holding her in her lap. They were living in what appeared to be a tiny apartment. Ruby was sitting propped up in bed with the tiny bundle in her arms. The paneled walls were peeling, she noticed, and she could see a bathroom sink peeking out from around an old curtain.
**Please don’t do this,** Mr. Lindt pleaded.
She shut him out. Althea bit her lip, looking at the young face with the old and sad eyes, at the baby, just born and wrapped in a blanket. Tante Cal must have taken the picture since she wasn’t in it, Althea reasoned.
Althea studied the photograph. I don’t see any grandparents or friends or aunts or uncles in the picture. Where are they? Why is Mom and Cal alone? If, that is, Cal took the picture, but surely she must have; she and Mom have been inseparable.
She scowled as she put the picture in her lap and contemplated. A new baby is cause for celebration, and yet her mother is alone, propped up on a bed in a seedy looking apartment with a tiny baby in her arms. And no father, and no family from his side either. Nothing.
Althea bit her lower lip. And why hadn’t Mom ever mentioned them? Surely she had parents too. Why weren’t they in my life either?
“None of this makes sense,” Althea told the empty room. “Where is the rest of the family?”
**Please, let it go.**
**No, I won’t.**
She was so young when she had me, Althea thought. She looks so small and scared. She couldn’t be more than sixteen in this picture.
That means Mom can’t be more than, what thirty-four? Why that’s not old at all. Not really. Not when you sit down and really think about it.
Tossing the picture aside, Althea flipped through some old empty envelopes until she came to a letter embossed with gold and black. She opened it and her birth certificate tumbled onto the pile on the bed. Her heart pounding, the blood swooshing in her ears so loudly she could barely hear, she opened the envelope with trembling fingers.
Her heart plummeted.
The birth certificate showed her name, date of birth, weight and length, all the standard things you’d expect to find on a birth certificate. She saw her mother’s name listed, but her father’s name was not on the certificate. It was blank.
Stunned, feeling empty, sad and utterly alone, Althea sat on the edge of the bed and watched as shadows retreated from the room, as if they were offended by her very presence. Oh my god, she thought. It’s true. It’s true. She didn’t even know my father’s name.
****
The sun had set when Althea awoke to the sound of voices outside. Her nose was stuffy and her head felt dull and achy. It took her a few moments to realize that she had cried herself to sleep on her mother’s bed, with her head on the wedding dress. It was rumpled and stained with her tears. She didn’t care. She sat up, listening intently. She heard more laughter coming from outside. Me, she thought listlessly, they’re laughing at me, and why not? I am a bastard. I’m not worth respecting. She pulled her knees up against her chest. I’m illegitimate so I don’t amount to anything. I’m an accident probably conceived at some skanky drive-in...in the back seat of a Desoto. For all I know Ruby must have fucked the entire football team. I wonder what the prize was. To wear some jock’s letter jacket? But no. All she got was the consolation prize. Me. And that’s no consolation at all. No wonder she hates me. No wonder she’s in such a hurry to get rid of me. The sooner I’m gone the quicker she can go back to whoring.
She sniffed. I’m not even good enough for heaven, she realized with a sudden sickening dread. I’m a bastard, which means I’ll be stuck in purgatory at best. At worst? I get the express elevator straight to hell. So I guess it doesn’t matter what I do at this point. I was born on the road to hell.
Althea eased back down on the bed, stretching out her arms, feeling spiritually crucified. She sensed Mr. Lindt’s muffled protest in the back of her mind. She shut him out.
Why bother being a good girl if I’m going to hell anyway? Why should I be obedient to her, when she brought me into this life knowing that I’m doomed? She wondered. Why should I do anything anyone tells me? What’s the point of it all?
That’s why she had to go outside the community to find me a husband, she thought. It’s because everyone knows I’m tainted and nobody would want me, except for sex.
Now I know why all those men came sniffing around the house and why Mom ran them off. They’re just jackals that’ll tear me apart because they can sense that I’m like her, thinking I’m just as free with my body as she was.
**My darling girl,** Mr. Lindt’s thoughts mixed with hers. **You have no idea how untrue that is. How very wrong you are.** She slammed the door of her mind shut.
Again, laughter echoed up into the room. A dull curiosity drew her off the bed and out to the balcony. She leaned over the railing and groaned. In the gloom she could see the Lincoln Town Car parked in front of the house. Althea couldn’t see who the three people were, but she could guess. A deep male voice laughed and she heard her mother’s lilting response in French. Althea tilted her head so she could look around the sash and confirmed that indeed her mother and aunt were talking with the trio standing in front of the big car. And that trio was her future husband and his parents.
“What has that damned woman done now?” Althea wondered aloud as she hurried down the steps and into the foyer. She stopped short on the threshold, suddenly horrified. She cast a furtive glance toward her mother, who stood expressionless beside Mrs. Cathar as Mr. Cathar regaled the two with a story from his youth. How is she going to justify this place to them? This is a dump; hardly the palace they’re expecting.
“There’s the blushing bride,” boomed Mr. Cathar as he opened his chubby arms wide, obviously expecting an embrace. Althea took an instinctive step backwards. Ruby scowled. Mr. Cathar looked somewhat disappointed that she didn’t go rushing into his arms. Hank blanched and rubbed the back of his neck.
Mrs. Cathar was altogether put out, seeing the plantation house for the first time and realizing that it was nowhere near as stately as she was led to believe. Hank stood on the porch step, suitcases at his feet, and looking acutely embarrassed. Ruby stared at Althea and Hank, her expression inscrutable. Please Mom, Althea thought. Don’t tell any more lies on my account. Please.
“I made plans for your fiancé to take Mrs. Ramsay’s old apartment,” Ruby said. “It’ll give you and Hank a chance to get to know each other a bit more before the nuptials. I know we all have to make do here while the big house is being renovated, but it’s still a pretty place, and it really is a plantation house. Mr. Cathar, you’d be fascinated by the history of this site I’m sure.”
“Oh don’t worry about it, Mrs. Ruby,” Mr. Cathar boomed. “A little slumming is good for the soul, isn’t’ it darling?” Mrs. Cathar offered her husband a murderous look.
“And it is more convenient than the big house. Much closer to the church, and all,” Ruby was saying. “And it’ll be just so much nicer all the way around.”
Wow Mom, you can’t get any lamer can you? Althea thought, fuming.
“And the wedding is in just a few more days, dear. Aren’t you excited?” Mrs. Cathar asked Althea. Althea didn’t like the condescending tone in the other woman’s voice.
“Not especially,” Althea replied.
“Why whatever’s wrong?” Mrs. Cathar asked. She frowned. “Don’t you like our son?”
“I like Hank fine. I—”
“—it’s just wedding jitters, that’s all,” Ruby interrupted. “Why just now she was upstairs trying on her wedding dress.”
“No I wasn’t,�
� Althea said.
Ruby scowled. “Now don’t be rude Mon chere, you need to get a handle on these things.” Ruby laughed, her tone nervous. “These young girls and their nerves,” she said by way of apology.
“She’ll be all right, once she gets him in the morning and he gets her at night,” Mr. Cathar said a little too loudly. Althea glared at him, horrified at his frank leer.
“My God, you’re a nasty old goat,” Althea said.
“Althea,” Ruby scolded.
“Now darling that wasn’t nice at all, and Althea is absolutely right,” Mrs. Cathar said, with that frozen smile on her face. “I daresay that was downright vulgar. There are, after all, ladies present.”
“Sorry Mother,” Mr. Cathar said, looking somewhat deflated.
“Now remember, rehearsal is in just two days and then I’ll have the daughter I always wanted,” Mrs. Cathar said, changing the subject.
“How could I forget?” Hank and Althea said in unison.
The adults laughed. “See? They’re already talking at the same time. Isn’t that sweet?” Mrs. Cathar said.
“Simply darling,” Cally replied sourly from her seat next to Mr. Lindt.
“Well, we must be away. We’re heading for New Orleans to make sure we have their little honeymoon cottage all set up,” Mr. Cathar said. He shook his son’s hand and opened his arms again for Althea, who again refused.
“We’ll be back of course in time for the wedding,” Mrs. Cathar was saying. “We have a lovely cottage overlooking Lake Ponchatrain that will be perfect for them.”
“I’ll just bet you do,” Althea said under her breath.
Mrs. Cathar paused, and gazed up at the house. “It really is lovely in its own way. A little paint here and there and it’d be...almost...quaint.”
“It’s a dump,” Althea said. Ruby shushed her.
Mr. Cathar laughed. “A Bette Davis fan I see. That was a great impression of the Magnificent Bette. Extraordinaire. I see we’ll get along wonderfully.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of Elizabeth Taylor in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, but whatever floats your boat,” Althea said.
Mr. Cathar, grumbled, digging into his ear.
Hank leaned forward and whispered in Althea’s ear. “That honeymoon cottage is an old tar paper shack overlooking the Industrial Street Canal not a stone’s throw away from Bascule Bridge. We won’t be living anywhere near there, not if I have anything to say about it.”
“Which you probably won’t,” Althea whispered back.
“It won’t. I promise.”
“Well it’s nice to know you’ve finally grown some balls, letting me know that our cottage is in the Lower 9th.” She offered him a scathing look. “It sure took you some digging around in your drawers, but I’m glad you found them,” Althea said through clenched teeth. Hank looked shocked. Mr. and Mrs. Cathar looked scandalized. Ruby fumed while Cally cackled from her perch on the veranda.
“There won’t be a wedding if I have to spend one second in the Lower 9th Ward and that’s a fact,” Althea said. “You people are supposed to be loaded. I think you can do both of us better than that.”
“Why of course,” Mr. Cathar said. He laughed nervously. “What were we thinking dear? Of course the children should be put up in that old rental. We have accommodations in New Orleans that is much nicer, don’t we mother?”
Althea ignored her future father-in-law. Instead she turned to Hank, smiling as she picked Hank’s tie from his chest. He looked down at her, puzzled as she tugged it gently. “New Orleans is a drag. You don’t want to go to New Orleans do you? What could a good Catholic boy like you do with a girl like me down on Bourbon Street?”
“I—I—”
“I want to go to Paris,” Althea said looking petulant. She gazed up at her fiancé. From the corner of her eye she could see her mother practically seething. “You’ll take me to Paris won’t you darling?”
“Paris, Texas?” Hank stammered. “Sure, I guess.”
“No silly, France. Paris, France. We’ll have a wonderful time there, won’t we?” She smiled, her expression wicked. “In fact we may have so much fun we won’t come home at all. Let’s just stay on the Riviera forever and ever.”
“Your mother can pay for it,” Mrs. Cathar said, her expression icy.
“Nonsense,” Althea replied. “She’s paying for the wedding. The honeymoon is the least you can do.”
“Althea,” Ruby warned.
“Shut up,” Althea snapped. Ruby rocked on her heels, stunned by her daughter’s vehemence. “Let’s go see the travel agent tomorrow and get everything arranged.”
“Mon chere, I don’t think—” Mr. Cathar began.
“Oh shush. As loaded as you are you can easily afford a little trip overseas. After all, a girl gets married only once in her life, isn’t that right?”
“I-I suppose,” Mr. Cathar replied. Mrs. Cathar looked affronted but said nothing.
“Then it’s settled,” Althea smiled, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “We’ll get married in a few days and then we’ll be off to see beautiful Paris. Now won’t that be an adventure?”
“Well,” Ruby said. “It does sound like fun, and besides, that means you will be able to attend the rehearsal instead of traveling all the way to New Orleans.”
“Oh my, I almost forgot,” Mrs. Cathar said. “Has the food been prepared for the rehearsal dinner?”
“The caterers are ready and they will be setting up starting at six at the church’s function hall.” Ruby smiled nastily at her daughter.
“And the license? And the blood test?”
“The blood test be done tomorrow morning at 8:00 a.m. We already have an appointment at the courthouse for the rest.”
Hank blanched.
“What’s the matter darling? Is this all a bit much for you?” Althea asked.
“I agree that it is going forward far quicker than I thought it would,” Hank responded.
“Time flies. Soon your childhood will be over and by this coming Friday you’ll be spending the rest of your lives together as man and wife,” Mrs. Cathar said.
“How romantic,” Cally scathed from her seat in the shadows. Ruby cast a filthy look in her sister’s direction. “All that remains is handing Hank the key to Althea’s chastity belt.”
“Don’t you have something to do?” Ruby asked her sister. Cally laughed and said, “Not a thing in the world, sister-mine.” Mr. Lindt snorted.
“Do you need a hand with those?” Ruby asked, indicating the luggage. “I’m sure Mr. Lindt wouldn’t be too impositioned to assist.”
“Not at all,” Mr. Lindt responded cheerfully as he rose.
“It’s no bother sir, I can manage.” Hank said.
“It’s no bother at all,” Mr. Lindt replied as he picked up the heavier of the two suitcases with surprising ease. “After all, Miss. Althea, isn’t it your mother who says many hands make light work?”
Althea rolled her eyes. “I am so fed up with all of this,” she whispered to herself.
“Did you say something, Althea?” Mrs. Cathar asked.
“I said, I’m ready to get this over with.”
“I’ll take that tone as more pre-wedding jitters,” Ruby said, her voice hard.
“Take it any way you like.”
“Don’t push me girl.”
Mr. Lindt turned briefly and smiled at Althea. “If you’ll follow me,” Mr. Lindt was saying to Hank, “I’ll show you where the gentlemen are quartered.”
“All these airs are making me sick,” Althea complained as she flounced to one of the old metal chairs and flopped down. The chair creaked as it absorbed her weight. She felt as stifled and repressed as Bette Davis’ character Rosa Moline in Beyond the Forest. She raised her arms over her head and stretched, feeling her spine pop. Sighing, she gazed across the lawn, wishing with all her heart she could go anywhere as long as it was away from here.
**The time will come, and soon I think, when you may get you
r wish,** Mr. Lindt’s voice appeared in her mind.
**How can you get into my head like that?** Althea thought back.
There was no answer, just an enigmatic chortle receding into the back of her mind.
“Don’t worry,” Ruby was saying to the Cathars as they made their way to the big car. “She’s just a little high strung. That’ll all change after the wedding.”
“Well, I certainly hope so,” Mrs. Cathar stated as her husband opened the door for her. “I understand wedding jitters but this boorish attitude must stop.”
“Oh it will, trust me,” Ruby shot a hateful glance at her daughter. “It will.”
Althea stuck out her tongue. Ruby was too busy glad handing the Cathars to notice.
The Cathars fled in their car, kicking up dust as they went. Natural fireflies with their perfect greenish gold glows danced in the trees high above them as the car sped away.
“Good riddance,” Althea muttered under her breath as she watched the red tail lights disappear down the dirt road. “What gall, dropping Hank on us like that. They acted like they were abandoning a puppy.”
“It’s for everyone’s benefit,” Ruby said.
“It’s not for Hank’s,” Cally said. “He wants to join the priesthood. And it’s certainly not for Althea’s—” She cut herself off.
“How do you know about that? About Hank wanting to join the priesthood?” Ruby asked.
“He told me so, while you were putting on airs for the Cathars’ benefit. Ruby, if that boy has a vocation it’d be a mortal sin to stand in his way,” Cally said.
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