by Nikki Marsh
We talked a few minutes about the ball when I spilled my lemonade on my dress. When he went to the kitchen for a towel, I had my chance. He was halfway through his sandwich, so I lifted the bread and sprinkled the spider eggs on it.
When he returned with the towel, I blotted out the lemonade and continued to eat my cake. Julian gobbled the rest of his sandwich. Nothing happened. I poured him another glass of lemonade, hoping that would speed up the process. When he finished it, he dragged himself from the chair and ambled around the room, rubbing his stomach.
"Are you feeling all right?"
"I'm a little queasy, but it will pass."
When he sat down in the chair opposite me, I heard his stomach churn. It scared me. My prank wasn't so funny.
"Gabbie, I have to excuse myself right now."
"Is there anything I can do?"
"No. I'm sure I'll feel better in a little while. I don't know what could have upset my iron stomach," he said as he headed for the stairs.
I ran all the way home, becoming increasingly scared with each step. I didn't know how long my prank would last, and I didn't know how to remove it. Suppose he got worse? Suppose he died?
When I came home, Maman heard me running up the stairs and called me. She took one look at me and saw something was wrong.
"What is it, Gabbie?"
I didn't want to upset her. I told her I wasn't as good a dancer as I hoped I would be and the ball was only a few days away. She thought it was my nerves and assured me I would be fine. I felt terrible lying to her.
I had to confide in Felicie. I had no choice, but I swore her to secrecy before I did. I told her about my experiment, and she laughed so loud, I'm sure Auntie would have investigated if she had been home.
"That spider egg hex cain't kill no one, child. It's just meant to upset a person for an hour or two. Ain't nothin you can do to remove it."
I threw my arms around her, grateful that it couldn't kill Julian.
"Now chile, 'fore you test out spells on people, you make sure you know how to take it off if need be. Don't that make sense?"
It made sense, and I decided the next time I put a spell on someone, I would learn how to take it off.
✽✽✽
I was eager for dance practice the next day. I hoped what Felicie told me was true, but I couldn't be sure until I saw Julian face-to-face. After making my usual small talk at breakfast and rushing through my lesson with Beau, I got to Julian's earlier than usual. When I arrived, he met me at the door.
"You're a little early today. I wasn't expecting you until later."
My eyes inspected his face searching for signs he was still in pain.
"I was worried about you. I hope your iron stomach is as strong as ever." I tried to laugh.
He said it was and saw the relief on my face.
"I'm surprised you worried so much," he said. "But, it's a pleasant surprise. I'm back to normal, thank you."
"I have to run a few errands. Want to come?”
It was a beautiful day and walking outside was a pleasant option to dance practice. Everything looked fresh and bright with my new-found sense of calm and relief.
"Where are we going?"
"I'm on my way to the cemetery."
Cemetery... The word took me back to my first visit there. Julian picked up on my uneasiness.
"Gabbie, I get it. You don't like cemeteries. You don't have to come. You can wait for me at home."
"Why are you going to the cemetery?"
"Today is the anniversary of my mother's death." His face became serious, somber even.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know."
"How could you? If you don't want to come, I understand."
"No, no. I'll go with you. You've been so considerate when you didn't have to be. You wanted to escort Brigitte to the ball but got stuck with me.”
"That was before I knew you so well. You're right about Brigitte. I hoped we would become more than friends. I still do."
"Don't give up. Brigitte has changed a lot since we first met - for the better. She likes you. Things could still change for the better."
"Thanks for giving me hope, Gabbie."
When we reached the entrance to the cemetery, an old Creole woman peddled flowers a few feet away.
"Let's look at some flowers. You can help me pick out some."
"Did your mother have a favorite?"
"I never paid attention to that sort of thing. She probably did, but I just never noticed."
"Well, do you remember seeing any particular flowers around the house?"
Julian thought about it, bringing his hand up to his chin and rubbing it.
"You know, Gabbie, now that you mention it, I remember seeing yellow roses a lot. What do you think?"
"They sound perfect. I bet she would love those."
After he purchased the roses, we strolled into the cemetery. Immediately, it was five years ago. I remembered everything as if it had just happened. Fear enveloped me. Black clouds gathered. Rain beat against my skin, even though it was a beautiful day. I wanted to turn around.
Julian sensed something, too.
"What's wrong, Gabbie? He looked me in the eyes, and, for the first time, I noticed his. They captured the despair he kept hidden inside only emerging because of the task he was about to do.
"Nothing. It's just I don't like the cemetery."
"I don't like cemeteries either. I'll bet most people are sad when they visit a loved one in a cemetery."
I thought about lying and telling him he was right, that I was being silly. But I couldn't lie to Julian about that. I owed him some honesty because of what I did to him. I decided to say a little more.
"No, Julian, it's not that. When I visited my father's grave in Uncle Phonse's family cemetery before we left for New Orleans, there was nothing scary about it, even though I was sad."
I summoned my courage.
"There's something about me only a few people know. It's something you might not believe."
"What? Are you going to tell me some superstition about graveyards?" He grinned.
"It's not a superstition. I've only been to this cemetery one other time, five years ago, for Granpopá's funeral."
"I remember now. That must make you sad."
"Honestly, I didn't know him at all. I never met him when he was alive. I didn't feel close to him. The truth is he never wanted to know me, and I never wanted to know him. I didn't like him because he cut my Maman off from her family. He hurt us."
"That sounds like an excellent reason to dislike him."
I continued. "All that changed on that day."
"I remember that day. It was the first time I saw you," Julian said.
"You were at my Granpopá's funeral?"
"I'm not surprised you don't remember me. We didn't talk. I was with my Maman. She and your Aunt Lucinda were close friends. Anyway, back then girls didn't interest me much,” he said playfully.
I forged ahead with my story.
"Well, anyway, as we all gathered around the crypt, something strange happened to me." I paused and found the right words.
"That day, Julian, my Granpopá spoke to me. He spoke to me from the grave. He told me he loved me."
Julian looked skeptical, torn between laughing out loud and believing the possibility that what I told him was true. I wanted him to believe me.
"You don't believe me, do you?" I tried to hide my disappointment. "It's OK if you don't." I sulked.
"We've become friends, haven't we, Gabbie? I know you well enough to know you wouldn't lie to me, would you?"
I was on the spot. I had already lied to him, or at least withheld the truth about his stomachache. I didn't want to answer that question and tell another lie. I answered his question with a question of my own instead.
"Do you believe some people can communicate with the dead?"
"I never used to," he said. "But, I admit, since my maman died, sometimes I feel her near me. It's like she's telling
me something, but I can't hear her. That sounds about as crazy as you hearing your Granpopá's voice, doesn't it? So, I don't know. But, if you say you heard your Granpopá's voice, I believe you did."
This was as far as I wanted go with this conversation. I wasn't prepared to tell him about Felicie's suspicions.
In a few minutes, we arrived at his mother's crypt, and he placed the yellow roses on it. He said we should say a prayer. He took my hand, and we prayed for his mother.
When we finished, he asked me if I wanted to stop by Granpopá's crypt. I didn't, so we went back to his house for the last practice before the ball.
“I’m determined that we’re going to have a good time at the ball, Gabbie.”
“I’m so nervous. I don’t know if that’s even possible.”
“It’s more than possible. Once we get there and have our first dance together, I predict all nervousness will vanish.” Julian made me feel a little better.
“I hope you’re right.”
Julian made me feel a little better, but he didn’t know about my other reason for worrying. Emilie. Could I compete with her? Could I make Stefan see me in another light? Could I make him forget her? I began to think I could.
Chapter Nine
Pisatuntema
Two days before the ball, Stefan came home. I didn't wait for Grann's pralines and lemonade after my dance practice. I wanted to be home when he arrived.
"You're passing up pralines and lemonade? That's a first." Julian raised his eyebrow.
"Are you secretly in love with Stefan? You can tell me if you are. I'll keep your secret."
I had done a good job of hiding my feelings - until now.
"Don't be silly. I'm not in love with Stefan."
"Well, it's a good thing you aren't." His response surprised me.
"Would it be awful if I were?"
"Emilie's family is one of the most prominent in New Orleans. Nothing would please your Auntie more than joining those two families. She's been working on this match for years, even though Stefan isn't her blood child. For her social climbing purposes, he is."
"That's all very interesting Julian, but that's what Auntie wants, not Stefan."
"No, no, no, Mon Cheri. Stefan is her willing pawn. Don't let him fool you. He's socially ambitious. It's what he wants, too."
"Emilie is a superficial snob. The one time I met her, she made a point of exposing my lack of sophistication and inferior status. Stefan saw that, too. He defended me."
"Bet she didn't like that. You don't know him like I do. He can be chivalrous. But make no mistake, if he isn't in love with Emilie now, he's well on his way. What's not to love? She's smart, pretty, and knows how to maneuver Creole society. When you see them together at the ball, you'll see."
If what Julian said was true, I stood no chance of winning Stefan's heart.
I arrived home just as Felicie put the finishing touches on the buffet. She cooked enough food to last the entire week. The buffet table brimmed with some of our favorite dishes. She even added my favorite dish, shrimp and grits and made her signature peach cobbler and bread pudding for dessert.
Everyone waited in the small parlor for Stefan's arrival. Even Beau stayed at Auntie's insistence. Uncle Phonse surprised everyone when he carried Brigitte downstairs to join us. Only Maman didn't feel well enough to leave her room.
When he arrived a short time later, Stefan greeted Brigitte first, kissing her on the cheek and telling her how much better she looked. Her expression suggested she didn't believe him. Her health had declined since he’d last seen her. Now, dark circles framed her eyes giving them a sunken in look.
After greeting the adults, he turned his attention to me, bowing exactly as he did that day in the kitchen. I tried not to read too much into it. Julian's words dampened my enthusiasm and grounded my heart. I intended to hold my feelings in check and not give them away, but that plan flew out the window as soon as our eyes met.
Julian didn't have the whole picture. He didn't know Stefan had already confided in me. He didn't know Stefan trusted me. He didn't know we shared secrets, something I doubted he ever did with Emilie Duvalier. When I remembered this, I let my heart feel what it wanted.
Talk about the ball dominated our conversation. Auntie reminisced about her many beaus and the fun she and Maman had at the Sweetheart Balls. She had fond memories of Maman back then. Brigitte wished us a good time and assured everyone she would attend next year. Stefan couldn’t hide his excitement about escorting Emilie. Auntie beamed her approval.
"Gabbie, I'll bet you are an accomplished dancer now. I would venture to say you are even better than I am." I thanked Stefan for the compliment.
"Julian says I am a fast learner, and Grann predicts I'll have a full dance card, but I'm not sure. She might have been trying to build up my self-confidence!"
"If Julian and Grann say you're a good dancer, you are a good dancer. You know him well enough to know he speaks his mind."
We both laughed.
"What about you helping me refresh my dancing skills a little after dinner? You'd be doing me a big favor. I don't want to embarrass Emilie or myself on the dance floor." He turned to Beau.
"Beau, you wouldn't mind staying a while longer to play a few waltzes for us, would you?"
"He will." Auntie's answer sounded more like a command.
I hesitated for a moment. On one hand, I wanted Stefan to hold me in his arms. On the other, I didn't want to help him impress Emilie. My affection for Stefan outweighed my resentment of Emilie. I agreed to be the stand-in.
After dinner, Uncle took Brigitte back to her room. She hadn't eaten much, and she was tired. I checked on Maman before our practice session. After plumping her pillows and pouring her a glass of water, I brought up Stefan.
"Maman, what do you think about Stefan?"
"I haven't been around him very much, but I'm certain Phonse has brought him up the right way. He must be a fine young man."
She looked at me with those piercing eyes and answered my question with one of her own.
"What do you think of Stefan?"
"Charming. Handsome." We laughed. I hesitated before asking her more.
"Maman, do you think Stefan could ever be interested in me?"
"From the little I've seen, he has all the manners of a genteel young man. A young gentleman always takes notice of pretty young ladies. But you shouldn't read anything into it. Perhaps, if you were older, his interest might lean toward a more romantic nature."
"Yes, you're right. He would... if only I were older."
By the time I reached the small parlor, Stefan was waiting for me and Beau. His expression told me he was glad to see me.
"I saw you speaking with Beau before I checked on Maman," I mentioned. The mysterious Beau intrigued me. I asked Stefan how long he had known him.
"I started working with him when Auntie decided I must attend the military academy.”
“Why?"
"My grades weren’t the strongest, and he is a great tutor. I've learned a lot from him, but honestly, some things puzzle me."
"Such as?" he asked.
"Well, I’m surprised he and Auntie are such good friends. He's so quiet and sheepish around everyone else, but not with her. She's fond of him but, sometimes he annoys her."
"I know what you mean. I've wondered if they knew each other before I arrived. Lucinda doesn't have a lot of friends, despite her social connections. She only trusts a few people. Beau is one. Julian's mother, Blanche, was another."
I weighed asking him more about Blanche but decided I didn't have enough time to prod for more information. Stefan continued.
"I admit I don't understand their friendship either, especially since he has no social connections she can use. He's never spoken about any family or even friends the whole time I've known him. His attachment to Lucinda seems odd indeed."
"Do you think they are secret lovers?" He whispered playfully.
I blushed, and he laughed. Being
the gentleman he is, he steered the conversation to a more comfortable discussion.
"When you saw me speaking with him, I was asking about Brigitte. He told me she hasn't completed the last book he gave her several weeks ago. That's dreadful news. Brigitte loves reading."
"Beau is right," I said.
"She picks up the same book most days, but she soon tires and puts it down. I even offered to read it to her on the pretense I wanted to read it too. I didn't want her to feel like I thought she was too weak to read. She doesn't want pity."
"I'm so glad you're here with Brigitte now that I'm not around very much."
"Me, too."
Stefan brought up Julian.
"How are you and Julian getting along?"
"I like Julian, but you know how annoying he can be."
Stefan laughed. "That's what I like about him. He's always nagging me about how Emilie and I are doing, but I keep him in the dark. It drives him crazy."
I wanted to hear more, but after a few moments of silence, I realized he didn't want to talk about it, at least not to me. I steered the conversation back to Julian.
"Thanks to Julian, I can now hold my own on the dance floor, at least with any other novice, and we are good friends."
"I'm glad. That's something to build on."
Julian is right. He's not interested in me the way he's interested in Emilie. He wants me to be more than a friend to Julian.
"Why do you want us to become such good friends?"
"He has been hopelessly infatuated with Brigitte for as long as I can remember, but she considers him a friend, nothing more. So, when she agreed to attend the ball with him, he was elated."
"Why did she agree to go with him?"
"Here's a secret you must promise never to divulge."
"I promise."
"Julian wasn't her or Auntie's first choice. They wanted her to go with another young man, but his parents forced him to take someone else. They are a rung higher on the social ladder than the Martials."
All this sounded very trivial to me. He continued.
"Understand, Creoles base romantic matches on social status. That trumps beauty, brains, and even money sometimes. Brigitte likes Julian and was looking forward to the ball even though he wasn't her first choice. Her feelings are purely platonic, so I hoped your friendship would take his mind off her."