'I do love the way the bayou smells after a good rain. It makes everything fresh and clean. I wish it would do the same to people,' she said, and sighed deeply, Her eyes were still dark and troubled. I never had heard her sound so sad and tired. A kind of paralyzing numbness gripped me and for a moment, I could only sit there and listen to my heart pound. Grandmere suddenly shuddered and embraced herself.
'Are you all right, Grandmere?'
'What? Yes, yes. Okay,' she said, moving to Paul. 'Let me look at you.'
He took the cloths from his lips and cheek and she scrutinized his face. The swelling had subsided, but his cheek was still crimson and his lower lip dark where Turner Browne's fist had split the skin. Grandmere Catherine nodded and then went to the icebox and chipped out a small chunk to wrap in another washcloth.
'Here,' she said, returning. 'Put this on your cheek until it gets too cold and then put it on your lip. Keep alternating until the ice melts away, understand?'
'Yes, ma'am,' Paul said. 'Thank you. I'm sorry all this happened. I should have just ignored Turner Browne.'
Grandmere Catherine held her eyes on him a moment and then relaxed her expression.
'Sometimes you can't ignore; sometimes the evil won't leave,' she said, 'But that doesn't mean I expect to see you in any more fights,' she warned. He nodded obediently.
'You won't,' he promised.
'Hmm,' she said. 'I wish I had another pretty penny for how many times my husband has made the same promise.'
'I keep mine,' Paul said proudly. Grandmere liked that and finally smiled.
'We'll see,' she said.
'I better get going,' Paul declared, standing. 'Thanks again, Mrs. Landry.'
Grandmere Catherine nodded.
'I'll walk you to the car, Paul,' I said. When we stepped out on the galerie, we saw the rain had nearly stopped. The sky was still quite dark, but the glow from the galerie's dangling naked bulb threw a stream of pale white light to Paul's car. Still holding the ice pack against his cheek, he took my hand with his free hand and we walked over the pathway.
'I do feel terrible about ruining the evening,' he said. 'You didn't ruin it; Turner Browne ruined it. Besides, we got in plenty of dancing first,' I added.
'It was fun, wasn't it?'
'You know,' I said. 'This was my first real date.'
'Really? I used to think you had a stream of boyfriends knocking on your door, and you wouldn't give me the time of day,' he confessed. 'It took all the courage I could muster, more courage than it took to attack Turner Browne, for me to walk up to you that afternoon at school and ask to carry your books and walk you home.'
'I know. I remember how your lips trembled, but I thought that was adorable.'
'You did? Well, then I'll just continue to be the shyest young man you ever did see.'
'As long as you're not too shy to kiss me now and then,' I replied. He smiled and grimaced with the pain it caused to stretch his lip. 'Poor Paul,' I said, and leaned forward to kiss him ever so gently on that wounded mouth. His eyes were still closed when I pulled back. Then they popped open.
'That's the best poultice, even better than your grandmother's magical medicines. I'm going to have to come around every day and get another treatment,' he said.
'It will cost you,' I warned.
'How much?'
'Your undying devotion,' I replied. His eyes riveted on me.
'You already have that, Ruby,' he whispered, 'and always will.'
Then he leaned forward, disregarding the pain, and kissed me warmly on the lips.
'Funny,' he said, opening his car door, 'but even with this bruised cheek and split lip, I think this was one of the best nights of my life. Good night, Ruby.'
'Good night. Don't forget to keep that ice on your lip like Grandmere told you to,' I advised.
'I won't. Thank her again for me. See you tomorrow,' he promised, and started his engine. I watched him back away. He waved and then drove into the night. I stood watching until the small red lights on the rear of his car were swallowed by the darkness. Then I turned, embracing myself, and saw Grandmere Catherine standing on the edge of the galerie looking out at me. How long had she been there? I wondered. Why was she waiting like that?
'Grandmere? Are you all right?' I asked when I approached. Her face was so gloomy. She looked pale, forlorn, and as if she had just seen one of the spirits she was employed to chase away. Her eyes stared at me bleakly. Something hard and heavy grew in my chest, making it ache in anticipation.
'Come on inside,' she said. 'I have something to tell you, something I should have told you long ago.'
My legs felt as stiff as tree stumps as I went up the stairs and into the house. My heart, which had been beating with pleasure after Paul's last kiss, beat harder, deeper, thumped deep down into my very soul. I couldn't remember ever seeing such a look of melancholy and sadness on Grandmere Catherine's face. What great burden did she carry? What terrible thing was she about to tell me?
She sat down and stared ahead for a long time as though she'd forgotten I was there. I waited, my hands in my lap, my heart still pounding.
