"My parents and I are coming to pay our respects. I'll be there soon," he told me.
After we spoke, I changed into something appropriate for the wake and went next door to see if Gisselle had done the same. She hadn't even started; she was still on the telephone, catching up on news with her old friends.
"Daphne wants us downstairs to greet the mourners," I told her. She grimaced and continued gossiping as if I weren't in the room. "Gisselle!"
"Oh, wait a minute, Collette." She put her hand over the mouthpiece and turned roughly toward me. "What do you want?"
"You've got to dress and come downstairs. People will be arriving."
"So? I don't know why I've got to rush about now. This is worse than . . . than being at Greenwood," she said and turned back to her phone conversation. Whatever patience I had left evaporated. I pivoted and marched out of her room. Gisselle was Daphne's problem, I told myself. She was the one who'd brought her up, who'd given her these values and taught her how to be self-centered. They deserved each other.
People had begun to stream in: neighbors, business associates, employees, and, of course, Daphne's social acquaintances. Most went up to Daddy's coffin, knelt, and said a prayer, after which they joined Daphne, who was greeting people with a quiet elegance that indeed made her seem like someone with royal blood. I noticed that Bruce Bristow, Daddy's business manager, was constantly at Daphne's side, ready to do her every bidding. Occasionally I saw her lean over and whisper something to him. Sometimes he would smile, and sometimes he would nod and go off or approach one of the distinguished mourners, shake his hand, and bring him to Daphne.
Bruce wasn't much older than my daddy, if he was older at all. He was taller and a bit stouter, with dark brown hair and sideburns. I had met him only two or three times before, and I was always a little bothered by the way he drank me in with those hazel eyes, smiling coyly as he lowered his gaze down to my breasts, fixed his eyes there for a moment, and then lowered and lowered his gaze again until he was practically looking at my feet before lifting his eyes to travel upward ever so slowly. I always felt uncomfortable in his presence, felt as if I had been undressed in his imagination and stood totally naked before him.
Also, he had a nickname for me from the very first time he set eyes on me. He called me La Ruby, as though I were the jewel I had been named after. And then, when he took my hand to kiss it, his lips would linger for a moment longer than they should, sending a nervous tingle up my arm.
During a moment when she had no one speaking to her, Daphne marched across the parlor to me.
"Where's your sister? Why isn't she down here already?" she demanded, her hands on her hips.
"I don't know, Mother," I said. "I told her to get dressed, but she won't get off the telephone."
"March yourself up there and get her down here this instant," she commanded.
"But . . . ″
"I know," she said with a crooked smile, "that you are just sitting here waiting for your precious boyfriend Beau to arrive with his parents." Her smile faded. "If you don't get Gisselle down here, I'll see to it you don't spend a moment alone with him. Not now, not ever."
"Why do I have to be responsible for Gisselle? She—"
"Because you're her dear twin sister, whole, with no handicap," she replied, smiling again. "And it's only an opportunity for you to do a good deed, perform a blessing. I'd like all these people to see how well you look after your more unfortunate sister. Now do it!" she ordered. Just as she did so, Beau and his parents entered the parlor. The sight of him lifted the crust of ice from my heart. "First things first," Daphne said, throwing a gaze Beau's way. "Go get Gisselle."
"Very well, Mother," I said, getting up.
Beau looked at his parents and then hurried to me. "Ruby," he said, taking my hand and speaking loud enough in his formal tone to please his parents and those around them. "I'm so sorry about Pierre. Please accept my deepest regrets."
"Thank you, Beau. I have to go help Gisselle for a moment. Please excuse me."
"Of course," he said, backing up.
"I'll be right back," I mouthed, and hurried upstairs to find my stubborn sister plucking chocolates from a box on the night stand beside the bed as she talked to one of her old boyfriends.
"Gisselle!" I cried, anger and frustration flooding my face. She turned with surprise. "Your absence has become an embarrassment for Mother and for me, as well as for Daddy's memory." I stormed across the room and seized the receiver. She screamed in protest when I slammed it down in its cradle. "You're going to put on your black dress right now and come right down with me."
"How dare you!"
"Now!" I screamed, and turned her around roughly in her chair, pushing her toward the bathroom. "Wash off that makeup while I get your dress, or I swear," I said, "I'll push you down the stairs."
She took one look at my infuriated face and gave in. Of course, she was as uncooperative as could be, forcing me to do all the work in removing what she was wearing and putting on the proper dress and shoes, but finally I was able to wheel her to the top of the stairway.
"I hate things like this," she whined. "What am I supposed to do, sit there sobbing?"
"Just let people offer their condolences and sit quietly. If you're hungry, you can eat something."
"I am hungry," she said. "Yes. That's a good reason to go down."
Edgar came up and helped me get her down the stairway in the lift. We got her into the downstairs wheelchair and I rolled her into the parlor. Many more mourners had arrived. Everyone turned our way, some of the women smiling softly and sadly. Those who had brought their children sent them to us to offer their sympathies. Finally Beau joined us, leaning down to kiss Gisselle.
"Well, it's about time," she told him. "And you don't have to kiss me as if I'm someone's old grandmother."
"I gave you the proper kiss," he replied, his eyes full of laughter when they were turned to me.
"I bet you'll give Ruby the proper kiss later," she said.
I saw that Daphne was watching us, nodding with satisfaction.
After a while Gisselle became involved with some of the other young people, and Beau and I were able to slip away. We went out to the gazebo.
"It's been so long since I was alone with you," he said. "I feel a little nervous."
"Me too," I confessed.
"It's so hard to believe that Pierre is dead. I haven't been by for some time, so I didn't see how he had changed, but my father said he just knew something bad was going to happen to him. He always had this tired, troubled look and had lost his mirth. He wasn't joining his gentlemen friends for their usual card games, or attending the theater. They rarely saw him and Daphne out at any of the fine restaurants."
"If only we hadn't been sent away to school," I moaned. "I might have seen what was happening and done something. The last time he called me, he sounded so tired, but he insisted it was nothing."
Beau nodded. "Are you going back to Greenwood?"
"Daphne insists we do."
"I thought she might. Don't worry. I'll get up there to visit you often now. The football season is winding down."
"At least that will make it more bearable," I told him. "And the holidays are coming in a few weeks and we'll be back home."
He nodded and took my hand. We sat on the bench and looked out at the partly cloudy night that permitted only a few stars to show their brilliance. "Before I leave, I've got to go see my uncle Jean, Beau. He's got to know what's happened to Daddy. He probably wonders why Daddy doesn't come to visit him. It's not fair. Daphne doesn't care to tell him; she says he won't understand, but I've seen him; I know he will."
"I'll take you," Beau promised.
"You will?"
"Yes. Just say when," he said firmly.
"What about your parents? Won't they be angry?"
"They don't have to know. When?"
"Tomorrow. We'll go as soon as you can."