'I know,' I said.
'You have to understand how dark and dreary my life seemed to me during those days. My handsome, charming brother's wonderful future had been violently ended, my mother had died, my wife couldn't have children, and my father was slipping away day by day.
'Suddenly . . . I'll never forget that moment . . . I turned while unloading our car by the dock, and I saw Gabrielle strolling along the bank of the canal. The breeze lifted her hair and made it float around her, hair as dark red as yours. She wore this angelic smile. My heart stopped and then my blood pounded so close to the surface, I felt my cheeks turn crimson.
'A rice bird lighted on her shoulder and when she extended her arm, it pranced down to her hand before flying off. I still hear that silver laugh of hers, that childlike, wonderful laugh that was carried in the breeze to my ears.
''Who is that?' I asked your grandfather.
''Just my daughter,' he said.
'Just his daughter? I thought, a goddess who seemed to emerge from the bayou. Just his daughter?
'I couldn't help myself, you see. I was never so smitten. Every chance I had to be with her, near her, speak to her, I took. And soon, she was doing the same thing—looking forward to being with me,
'I couldn't hide my feeling from my father, but he didn't stand in my way. In fact, I'm sure he was eager to make more trips to the bayou because of my growing relationship with Gabrielle. I didn't realize then why he was encouraging it. I should have known something when he didn't appear upset the day I told him she was pregnant with my child.'
'He went behind your back and made a deal with Grandpere Jack,' I said.
'Yes, I didn't want such a thing to happen. I had already made plans to provide for Gabrielle and the child, and she was happy about it, but my father was obsessed with this idea, crazed by it.'
He took a deep breath before continuing.
'He even went so far as to tell Daphne everything,'
'What did you do?' I asked.
'I didn't deny it. I confessed everything.'
'Was she terribly upset?'
'She was upset, but Daphne is a woman of character, she's as they say, a very classy dame,' he added with a smile. 'She told me she wanted to bring up my child as her own, do what my father had asked. He had made her some promises, you see. But there was still Gabrielle to deal with, her feelings and desires to consider. I told Daphne what Gabrielle wanted and that despite the deal my father was making with your grandfather, Gabrielle would object.'
'Grandmere Catherine told me how upset my mother was, but I never could understand why she let Grandpere Jack do it, why she gave up Gisselle.'
'It wasn't Grandpere Jack who got her to go along. In the end,' he said, 'it was Daphne.' He paused and turned to me. 'I can see from the expression on your face that you didn't know that.'
'No,' I said.
'Perhaps your Grandmere Catherine didn't know either. Well, enough about all that. You know the rest anyway,' he said quickly. 'Would you like to walk through the French Quarter? There's Bourbon Street just ahead of us,' he added, nodding.
'Yes.'
We got out and he took my hand to stroll down to the corner. Almost as soon as we made the turn, we heard the sounds of music coming from the various clubs, bars, and restaurants, even this early in the day.
'The French Quarter is really the heart of the city,' my father explained. 'It never stops beating. It's not really French, you know. It's more Spanish. There were two disastrous fires here, one in 1788 and one in 1794, which destroyed most of the original French structures,' he told me. I saw how much he loved talking about New Orleans and I wondered if I would ever come to admire this city as much as he did.
We walked on, past the scrolled colonnades and iron gates of the courtyards. I heard laughter above us and looked up to see men and women leaning over the embroidered iron patios outside their apartments, some calling down to people in the street. In an arched doorway, a black man played a guitar. He seemed to be playing for himself and not even notice the people who stopped by for a moment to listen.
'There is a great deal of history here,' my father explained, pointing. 'Jean Lafitte, the famous pirate, and his brother Pierre operated a clearinghouse for their contraband right there. Many a swashbuckling adventurer discussed launching an elaborate campaign in these courtyards.'
I tried to take in everything: the restaurants, the coffee stalls, the souvenir shops, and antique stores. We walked until we reached Jackson Square and the St. Louis Cathedral.
'This is where early New Orleans welcomed heroes and had public meetings and celebrations,' my father said. We paused to look at the bronze statue of Andrew Jackson on his horse before we entered the cathedral. I lit a candle for Grandmere Catherine and said a prayer. Then we left and strolled through the square, around the perimeter where artists sold their fresh works.
'Let's stop and have a cafe au lait and some beignets,' my father said. I loved beignets, a donutlike pastry covered with powdered sugar.
While we ate and drank, we watched some of the artists sketching portraits of tourists.
'Do you know an art gallery called Dominique's?' I asked.
'Dominique's? Yes. It's not far from here, just a block or two over to the right. Why do you ask?'
