He looked at me, while Mrs. Flemming played with Pearl's tiny fingers.
'Well, I don't see any reason why you shouldn't move right in, then,' I said. 'If the arrangements are satisfactory for you,' I added.
She looked up and brightened immediately.
'Oh yes, dear. Yes. Thank you.'
'I'll have one of my men take you back to the rooming house and wait for you to get your things together,' Paul said.
'First let me show you where you will sleep, Mrs. Flemming,' I said, pointedly eyeing Paul. He was doing it again, moving along so fast, I could barely catch my breath. 'Your room adjoins the nursery.'
Pearl didn't complain when Mrs. Flemming carried her out and up to her room. I kept feeling there was almost something spiritual about the way the two of them took so quickly to each other, and sure enough, I discovered Mrs. Flemming was left-handed. To Cajuns that meant she could have spiritual powers. Perhaps hers were more subtle, the powers of love, rather than the powers of healing.
'Well?' Paul asked after Mrs. Flemming had left with one of his men to get her things.
'She does seem perfect, Paul.'
'Then you won't be upset leaving her here with Pearl?' he followed. 'We'll be away only a day or two.' I hesitated and he laughed. 'It's all right. I've come up with the solution. I have to be reminded from time to time how rich I really am.
'What do you mean?'
'We'll just take Pearl along, reserve an adjoining room with a crib,' he said. 'Why should I care what it costs, as long as it makes you happy?'
'Oh, Paul,' I cried. It did seem like his newfound wealth could solve every problem. I threw my arms around him and kissed him on the cheek. His eyes widened with happy surprise. As if I had crossed a forbidden boundary, I pulled back. For a moment my happiness and excitement had overwhelmed me. A strange look of reflection came into his blue eyes.
'It's all right, Ruby,' he said quickly. 'We can love each other purely, honestly. We're only half brother and sister, you know. There's the other half.'
'That's the half that worries me,' I confessed softly.
'I just want you to know,' he said, taking my hands into his, 'that your happiness is all I live for.' His face became dark and serious as we just stared into each other's faces.
'I know, Paul,' I finally said. 'And that frightens me sometimes.'
'Why?' he asked with surprise.
'It's . . . it just does,' I said.
'All right. Let's not have any sad talk. We have to pack and plan. I have to go make some arrangements with the oil drill foreman and then go back to the cannery for a few hours. In the meantime, draw up your shopping list and don't spare a thing,' he said. 'My family will be here about six-thirty,' he added, and left.
I had forgotten about that. Facing Paul's mother was something I dreaded. It started my heart tripping with anxiety. Despite the promise I had made to Paul's father, I wasn't good at looking someone in the face and ignoring the truth. My twin sister, Gisselle, was the expert when it came to that, not me. Somehow, though, I had to do it.
I changed my dress five times before deciding on the one I would wear to dinner with my new family. I couldn't decide whether I should pin up my hair or wear it long. Every little detail suddenly took on paramount importance. I wanted to make the best impression I could. In the end I decided to pin up my hair and went down to dinner just as the Tates arrived. Paul was already dressed and waiting in the entryway.
Toby and Jeanne entered first, Jeanne bubbling over with excitement and eager to describe how the community was reacting to our elopement. Octavious and Gladys Tate followed; she clung to his arm as if she were afraid she wouldn't be able to stand straight or keep from fainting if she were on her own. She kissed Paul on the cheek and then gazed up at me as I descended the stairway.
A tall woman, only an inch or so shorter than her husband, Gladys Tate usually projected a regal stature. I knew she had come from a wealthy Cajun family in Beaumont, Texas. She had attended a finishing school and college where she had met Octavious Tate. It often surprised me that more people didn't suspect Paul was not really her child. Her features were so much sharper, thinner. There was a hardness in her face, a look of superiority and arrogance, and aloofness, that set her apart from most of the women in our Cajun community, even the ones who were wealthy, too.
She usually kept her hair stylishly cut and wore the most up-to-date designs, but tonight she looked so dark and depressed that not even the most fashionable clothing or best hairstylist could change her sad appearance. She gave me the feeling she was attending a wake rather than a family dinner. Her eyes searched my face anxiously as I approached.
'Hi,' I said, smiling nervously. I gazed at Paul and then said, 'I guess I should start calling you two Mom and Dad.'
Octavious smiled nervously, his eyes shifting to Gladys, who, only because Paul's sisters were present, let her lips slip into a quick grin. Immediately she returned to her more formal expression.
'Where's the baby?' she asked in a cold, hard voice, directing the question at Paul rather than me.
'Oh, we've just hired a nanny today, Mom. Her name is Mrs. Flemming. Both she and Pearl are upstairs in the nursery. She fed Pearl earlier, but she'll bring her down after we eat.'
'A nanny?' Gladys said, nodding, impressed.
'She's very nice,' I offered. Gladys Tate's lips softened slightly when she gazed at me. I felt we could slice the air between us, it was that thick.
