'I told him Paul works for a living. I don't know anyone who works harder. He doesn't take anything for granted, right, Ruby?'
'Paul thinks there are twenty-five hours in every day, not twenty-four,' I said, smiling.
'Yet somehow he manages to keep the romance in your marriage, doesn't he? A person would just have to look at you two together and he or she would see how devoted you are to each other and how much you care about each other's feelings. No matter how hard Paul works, he always has time for you, doesn't he? And you don't mind his being away so much, right?'
I shifted my eyes away quickly so she couldn't read the truth in them and then I folded my arms across my chest in Grandmere Catherine's way and filled my face with deep thought. She waited anxiously for my reply, her hands twisting in her lap.
'Yes,' I finally replied, 'but maybe that's because I'm so involved in my art.'
She nodded and sighed.
'That's what James said. He said I should find something to do so I don't dote upon him so much, but I wanted to dote on him and our marriage. That's why I got married!' she exclaimed. 'The truth is,' she continued, dabbing at her cheeks with the handkerchief, 'the passion is already gone.'
'Oh, Jeanne, I'm sure that's not so.'
'We haven't made love for two straight weeks,' she revealed. 'That's a long time for a husband and wife, right?' she followed, fixing her eyes on me for my reaction.
'Well . . .' I looked down and smoothed out my skirt so she wouldn't see my face again. Grandmere Catherine used to say my thoughts were as obvious as a secret written in a book with a glass cover. 'I don't think there's any set time or rate of lovemaking, even for married people. Besides,' I replied, now thinking about Beau, 'it's something that both have to want spontaneously, impulsively.'
'James,' she said, gazing at her entwined fingers, 'believes in the rhythm method because he's such a devout Catholic. I have to take my temperature before we make love. You don't do that, do you?'
I shook my head. I knew that a woman's body temperature was supposed to reflect when she was most apt to become pregnant, and that was considered an acceptable method of birth control, but I had to admit, taking your temperature before sleeping together would diminish the romance.
'So you see why I'm so unhappy?' she concluded.
'Doesn't he know just how deeply unhappy you are?' I asked. She shrugged. 'You should talk to him more about it, Jeanne. No one else can help you two but you two.'
'But if there's no passion . . .'
'Yes, I agree. There must be passion, but there must be compromise, too. That's what marriage is,' I continued, realizing how true it was for Paul and me, 'compromise —two people sacrificing willingly for the good of each other. They must care as much for each other as they do for themselves. But it works only if both do it,' I said, thinking about Daddy and his devotion to Daphne.
'I don't think James wants to be like that,' Jeanne worried.
'I'm sure he does, but it doesn't happen overnight. It takes time to build a relationship.'
She nodded, slightly encouraged. 'Paul and you have certainly spent a long time together. Is that why your marriage is so perfect?' she asked.
A strange aching began in my heart. I hated how one lie led to another and then another, building one upon the other until we were buried under a mountain of deceit.
'Nothing is perfect, Jeanne.'
'Paul and you are as close as can be. Look how the two of you were toward each other from the first day you two met. The truth is,' she said sadly, 'I was hoping James would worship me as much as Paul worships you. I suppose I shouldn't compare him to my brother.'
'No one should worship anyone, Jeanne,' I said softly, but the way she viewed Paul and me and the way others saw us made me feel ever so guilty for loving Beau on the side. What a shock it would be if the truth were to be known, I thought, and how devastating it would be to Paul.
Talking like this with Jeanne made me realize that my relationship with Beau would go nowhere. It might even destroy Paul little by little. I had made my choice, accepted his kindness and devotion, and now I had to live with that choice. I couldn't be selfish enough to do anything else.
'Maybe I will have another long talk with James,' Jeanne said. 'Maybe you're right—maybe it takes time.' 'Anything worthwhile does,' I said softly.
She was so involved with her own problems, she couldn't see the longing in my eyes. She seized my hands in hers. 'Thank you, Ruby. Thank you for listening and caring.'
We hugged and she smiled. Why was it so easy to help other people feel happy, but so hard to help myself? I wondered.
'There really is a new dress to show you,' I said, and took her to my closet. Afterward, we joined Paul and James in the living room and had some after-dinner cordials. Jeanne smiled at me when James put his arm around her and kissed her on the cheek. He whispered something in her ear and she turned crimson. Then they announced they were tired and had to go home. At the doorway, Jeanne leaned over to thank me again. From the look in her eyes, I saw she was excited and happy. Paul and I remained on the gallery and watched them go to their car and drive away.
It was a rather clear evening, so that we could look up at the star-studded sky and see constellations from one horizon to the other. Paul took my hand.
'Want to sit outside awhile?' he asked. I nodded and we went to the bench. The night was filled with the monotonous symphony of cicadas interrupted by the occasional hoot of an owl.
'Jeanne wanted some big-sister advice tonight, didn't she?' he asked.
