'She's probably brushing her hair and talking on the phone about our male visitor,' I said.
'Male visitor?'
I had never told him about Paul, and when I began, he surprised me by telling me he already knew.
'Gabrielle wasn't one to hide such a thing,' he said. 'I'm sorry I missed him.'
'He'll be back and we promised to visit someday,' I said. 'I'd like that. I haven't been to the bayou ever since . . . ever since.'
He got up.
'I'd better go see my other princess,' he declared. 'Coming?'
'I just want to sit here a while longer, Daddy.'
'Sure,' he said. He leaned over and kissed me and then he went back in to see my sister.
I sat back and looked over the grounds, but I didn't see the beautifully manicured flowers and trees. Instead, I saw the bayou. I saw Paul and I, the two of us, young and innocent, in a pirogue, Paul poling, me leaning back, the Gulf breeze flowing over my face and lifting strands of my hair. We turned a corner and the marsh hawk was there on a branch looking down at us. He lifted his wings as if to greet us and welcome us into the secret world that lay within our most cherished dreams and deep down in the softness of our hearts.
And then he dove off the branch and flew above the trees toward the blue sky and left us alone, drifting toward tomorrow.
