cocoon of deception around yourself. As you see, I'm still doing that, still protecting Daphne.
'Actually, I was fortunate and am fortunate to have Daphne. Besides being a beautiful woman, she's a woman capable of great love. She loved my father and I believe, she accepted all this because of her love for him, as much as her love for me. In fact, she accepted some responsibility.'
His head bowed down into the cradle of his hands.
'Because she was unable to get pregnant herself?' I asked. He lifted his eyes quickly.
'Yes,' he said. 'I see you know a lot more than I thought. You seem like a very mature girl, perhaps a lot more mature than Gisselle.
'Anyway,' he continued, 'throughout it all, Daphne has maintained her dignity and poise. That's why I think she can teach you a great deal and why, in time, I hope you will accept her as your mother.
'Of course,' he added, smiling, 'first, I have to get you to accept me as your father. Any healthy man can make a baby with a woman; but not every man can be a father,' he said.
I saw there were tears in his eyes when he spoke. As he talked, I sensed every molecule of his being was striving to reach out and force me to understand even what he himself must have found inexplicable.
I bit down on my tongue to keep from asking any questions. It was difficult to breathe, not to be drowned by everything that was happening so fast.
'What's in your bag?' he inquired.
'Oh, just some of my things and some pictures.'
'Pictures?' His eyebrows rose with interest.
'Yes.' I opened the bag and took out one of the pictures of my mother. He took it slowly and gazed at it for a long moment.
'She does seem like a fairy goddess. My memory of those days is like the memory of a dream, pictures and words that float through my brain on the surface of soap bubbles ready to burst if I try too hard to remember the actual details.
'You and Gisselle look a lot like her, you know. I don't deserve the good fortune of having two of you to remind me of Gabrielle, but I thank whatever Fate has brought you here,' he said.
'Grandmere Catherine,' I said. 'That's who you should thank.' He nodded.
'I'll spend as much time with you as I can. I'll show you New Orleans myself and tell you about our family.'
'What do you do?' I asked, realizing I didn't even know that much about him. The way I asked, the way my eyes widened at the sight of all these expensive furnishings in this mansion made him laugh.
'Right now I make my money in real estate investments. We own a number of apartment buildings and office buildings and we're involved in a number of developments. I have offices downtown.
'We are a very old and established family, who can actually trace their lineage back to the original Mississippi Trading Company, a French colonial company. My father did a genealogy which I will have to show you some day,' he added, smiling. 'And he proved that we can trace our lineage back to one of the hundred
'What were they?' I asked.
'Women back in France who were carefully chosen from among good middle-class families and each given only a small chest containing various articles of clothing, and sent over to become wives for the Frenchmen settling the area. They didn't have all that much more than you're carrying in your small bag,' he added.
'However,' he continued, 'the Dumas family history isn't filled only with reputable and highly prized things. We had ancestors who once owned and operated one of the elegant gambling houses and even made money on the bordellos in Storyville. Daphne's family has the same sort of past, but she isn't as eager to own up to it,' he said.
He rubbed his hands together and stood up.
'Well, we'll have plenty of time to talk about all this. I promise. Right now, I imagine you're tired. You'd like a bath and a chance to relax and go to sleep. In the morning, you can begin your new life, one that I hope will be wonderful for you. May I kiss you and welcome you to what will become your new home and family,' he asked.
'Yes,' I said and closed my eyes as he brought his lips to my cheek.
My father's first kiss . . . how many times had I dreamt about it, had I seen him in my dreams approach my bed and lean down to kiss me good night, the mysterious father of my paintings who stepped off the canvas and pressed his lips to my cheek and stroked my hair and drove away all the demons that hover in the shadows of our hearts . . . the father I had never known.
I opened my eyes and looked up into his and saw the tears. His eyes were filled with sorrow and pain, and it seemed he aged a little as he stared at me with much regret.
'I'm glad I've finally found you,' I said. In an instant, that sorrow that washed over his beautiful eyes disappeared and his face beamed.
'You must be very special. I don't know why I should be this fortunate.' He took my hand and led me out of the living room, talking about some of the other rooms, the paintings, the artworks as we approached the winding stairway.
Just as we reached the upstairs landing, a door was thrust open down right and Gisselle stepped out with Beau Andreas right beside her.
'What are you doing with her?' she demanded.
'Take it easy, Gisselle,' our father said. 'I'll be explaining it all to you in a moment.'
'You're putting her in the room next to mine?' she asked, grimacing.
