'And you won't find a better teacher when it comes to that,' he quipped. He opened the door for us and we went out.
I still felt this was all too good to be true and that any moment I would wake up in my little room in the bayou. I pinched myself and was happy to feel the tiny sting that assured me it was all real.
13
I Can't Be You
I felt as if I were caught in a whirlwind because of the way my new stepmother went about taking me shopping. As soon as we were finished in one boutique, Daphne whisked me out the door to go to another or to a department store. Whenever she decided something looked nice on me or looked appropriate, she ordered it packed immediately, sometimes buying two, three, and four of the same blouse, the same skirt, even the same pair of shoes, but in different colors. The trunk and the backseat of the car quickly filled up. Each purchase took my breath away and she didn't seem at all concerned about the prices.
Everywhere we went, the salespeople appeared to know Daphne and respect her, We were treated like royalty, some clerks throwing aside anything they were doing the instant Daphne and I marched into their stores. Most assumed I was Gisselle and Daphne did not bother to explain.
'It's not important what these people do and don't know,' she told me when a saleslady called me Gisselle. 'When they call you Gisselle, just go along for now. The people who matter will be told everything quickly.'
Although Daphne didn't have much respect for the sales people, I noticed how careful they were when they made suggestions, and how concerned they were that Daphne might not approve. As soon as Daphne settled on a color or a style, all of them nodded and agreed immediately, complimenting her in chorus on the choices she had made for me.
She did seem very informed. She knew the latest styles, the designers by name, and the garments that had been featured in fashion magazines, knowing things about clothes that even the salespeople and store owners didn't know yet themselves. Being chic and up-to-date was obviously a high priority for my stepmother, who became upset if the salesperson brought colors that didn't coordinate perfectly or if a sleeve or hem was wrongly cut. Most of the time between stores and traveling in the car, she lectured to me about style, the importance of appearance, and being sure everything I wore matched and coordinated.
'Every time you go out of the house and into society, you make a statement about yourself,' she warned, 'and that statement reflects on your family.
'I know that living in the bayou you were used to plain clothes, to practical clothes. Being feminine wasn't as important. Some of the Cajun women I've seen who work side by side with their men are barely distinguishable from them. If it weren't for their bosoms—'
'That's not so, Daphne,' I said. 'Women in the bayou can dress very pretty when they go to the dances and the parties. They may not have rich jewels, but they love beautiful clothes, too, even though they don't have these expensive stores. But they don't need them,' I said, my Cajun pride unfurling like a flag. 'My Grandmere Catherine made many a gorgeous dress and—'
'You've got to stop doing that, Ruby, and especially remember not to do it in front of Gisselle,' she snapped. A small flutter of panic stirred in my chest.
'Stop doing what?'
'Talking about your Grandmere Catherine as if she were some wonderful person,' she explained.
'But she was!'
'Not according to what we've told Gisselle and what we are telling our friends and society. As far as everyone is to know, this old lady, Catherine, knew you were kidnapped and sold to her family. It's nice that she had remorse on her deathbed and told you the truth so you could return to your real family, but it would be better if you didn't show how much you loved her,' she proclaimed.
'Not show how much I loved Grandmere? But—'
'You would only make us look like fools, especially your father,' she said. She smiled. 'If you can't say anything bad, don't say anything at all.'
I sat back. This was too much of a price to pay, even though I knew Grandmere Catherine would tell me to do it. I bit down on my lower lip to keep from voicing any more protest.
'Lies are not deadly sins, you know,' she continued. 'Everyone tells little lies, Ruby. I'm sure you've done it before.'
Little lies? Is that what she considered this story and all the stories that had to follow as a result? Little lies?
'We all have our illusions, our fantasies,' she said, and threw me a quick glance of devilment. 'Men, especially, expect it,' she added.
What kind of men was she talking about? I wondered. Men who expected their women to lie, to fantasize? Could men be that different in the city world from what they were in the bayou?
'That's why we dress up and make up our faces to please them. Which reminds me, you have nothing for your vanity table,' she said, and decided to take me to her cosmetic store next and buy me whatever she decided was appropriate for a teenager. When I explained I had never worn any makeup, even lipstick, she asked the saleswoman to give me a demonstration, finally revealing to someone that I wasn't Gisselle. Daphne abbreviated the story, relating it as if it were nothing extraordinary. Nevertheless, the tale flew through the large store and everyone fluttered about us.
They sat me before a mirror and showed me how to use the rouge, matched up shades of lipstick to my complexion, and taught me how to pluck my eyebrows.
'Gisselle sneaks on eyeliner,' Daphne said. 'But I don't think that's necessary.'
We went through perfumes next, Daphne actually letting me make the final decision this time. I favored one
