"What? Sure."
"Then let's go up. I need my diaper changed," she said, and laughed. I thought John was going to drop her, but he turned away, his face crimson, and hurried out of the parlor with her bouncing in his arms and giggling.
"I can't help wondering," Beau said, "why I ever started with her."
"It was Fate, Destiny. If you hadn't," I told him, "you and I might never have met."
"I love you, Ruby. I love the way you can find the good in things, even in someone like Gisselle."
"That's a challenge," I admitted, and we laughed. Then he asked me to play Louis's symphony. We sat listening with his arm around me.
"It's wonderful how you inspired someone to do something so beautiful," he confessed.
At twelve we went upstairs to call John out of Gisselle's room. She complained, of course, and did her best to try to get him to stay, if simply to violate Daphne's curfew. But Beau wasn't taking any chances about riling Daphne again. He told John sternly to come out and he did so.
I kissed Beau goodbye at the door and then went upstairs.
Gisselle was waiting in her doorway. The sight of her standing, even though I knew she was capable of doing it any time she wanted, still looked incongruous and surprising.
"Well aren't you the happy one now," she said. "You've got Beau Andreas forever and ever."
"Do you want someone forever and ever too?" I asked.
"Of course not. I'm too young. I want to explore, have fun, have dozens of different boyfriends, before I marry someone just dripping with money," she said.
"So why are you jealous?"
"I'm not jealous." She laughed. "I'm hardly jealous."
"Yes you are, Gisselle. You won't admit it, not even to yourself, but you want someone to love you, only . . . no one's going to love someone so selfish."
"Oh, don't start one of your lectures," she whined. "I'm tired. John's a very good lover, you know," she added, smiling. "A bit stupid, but a good lover. My pretending to be so helpless turns him on. It turns them all on, you know. Men like feeling in charge, even though they're not. I could play him like a . . . a flute," she said, laughing.
"So then you are going to keep pretending to be crippled?"
"Until I don't feel like it anymore. And if you have any ideas about exposing me . . ."
"I really don't care what you do, Gisselle, as long as you don't hurt anyone I care about," I said. "Because if you do . . ."
"I know. You'll break my neck. The only neck that's going to be broken around here is yours when Beau's parents find out what he's given you. You'll have to give it back, you know. You had better prepare yourself for it. Good night, dear sister, and oh . . . merry Christmas."
She closed her door and left me trembling in the hallway. She was wrong; she had to be wrong, I thought. Besides, tomorrow morning I would show Nina Beau's ring and ask her to prepare a chant or find a ritual that would throw a blanket of protection around our love.
I went to sleep, curling up in my wonderful memories of lovemaking with Beau, memories and feelings that were still so vivid, it was as if he were still beside me. I even stretched out my arm and pretended he was there.
"Good night, Beau," I whispered. "Good night, my darling Beau."
With his kiss still on my lips, I drifted back into the warm darkness of my own love-filled heart.
15
Bought and Paid For
Even I slept late the next morning. When I was a little girl, I hated the hours of sleep between Christmas Eve and Christmas morning. It was torture waiting for the sun to come up so I could go downstairs and unwrap my presents. No matter how poor our year had been, Grandmère Catherine always managed to have wonderful gifts for me, and all of her friends brought things over for me as well. There was always one secret gift, a present without a name on a card to tell from whom it had come. I liked to pretend it was from my mysterious father, and maybe Grandmère Catherine let me imagine such a thing so I would continue to believe I had a father waiting for me out there. Prophet that she was, she anticipated the day I would leave to find him.
But with Grandmère Catherine gone and now Daddy gone too, the excitement and the joy of Christmas morning had diminished until it was practically reduced to just another day. I thought this was true for Gisselle as well, but for different reasons, even though she bragged to everyone about the pile of gifts for us under the tree. With all that she had—the tons of clothes in her closets and dresser drawers, the mountains of cosmetics and the rivers of perfume, a queen's stash of jewels and more beautiful watches than there were hours in the day—I wondered what she could possibly be given and what would possibly excite her. I'm sure she felt the same way, for neither the morning sunlight nor the bong of the clock stirred her from her stupor. I knew she had to be suffering a hangover after all she had drunk the night before.
I myself lay with my eyes open, thinking only about Beau and the promises he and I had made to each other. I wished I could jump ahead years until the day of our wedding, a wedding that would take me from this fractured family and place me on the threshold of a new life, one filled with hope and love. I imagined Gisselle off to the side with the wedding party, where she glared at us with green eyes, her envy curling her lips into a crooked, hard smile as I pledged my love and faithfulness to Beau and he did the same to me. Daphne, I thought, would simply be happy I was out of her hair.
My stream of imaginings was broken when I suddenly heard a loud "Ho, ho, ho," and the ringing of sleighbells.
"Get up, you sleepyheads," Bruce called from the top of the stairway. I rose and peered out my door to see him dressed in a Santa Claus costume and wearing a fake Santa beard. "Daphne and I are anxious to see you open your gifts. Come on. Wake up." He walked up to Gisselle's door and shook the strap of bells hard. I heard her scream and curse and laughed to myself, envisioning what that sound must be like to someone with her size hangover.
"I'm coming," I shouted, after he did the same to me.
I washed, then dressed in a white silk blouse with a lace collar and cuffs and a peasant skirt. I tied my hair with a matching silk ribbon, even though I had little excitement and felt I was just going through the motions. Martha Woods had been sent up to speed Gisselle along, but she was still standing outside Gisselle's door, wringing her hands and mumbling "Oh dear, oh dear," when I stepped out to go downstairs.
I gazed through Gisselle's door and saw her rolled up into a ball under her blankets with just some strands of her hair leaking out.
"Just tell them she doesn't care about her gifts," I said, loud enough for Gisselle to hear. Instantly, she threw back the blanket.
"You tell them no such thing," she screamed, and then moaned. "Oh, why did I yell like that? Ruby, help me. My head feels like there are bowling balls rolling back and forth inside it."
I knew that Nina had a recipe for an elixir that would cure a bad hangover.
"Start getting dressed," I said, "and I'll bring something up that will help."
She sat up hopefully. "Will you? Promise?"
"I said I would. Just get dressed."
"Martha, get in here," she commanded. "Why aren't you getting out my things?"
"Oh, what am I to do? First she tells me to get out and then she screams for me to come in," she said, and she hurried in behind me.
I went downstairs and directly to the kitchen, where I found Nina preparing our Christmas Day breakfast. "Merry Christmas, Nina," I said.
"You be merry Christmas too," she replied with a smile. "I need two things from you, Nina, if you'll be kind enough to do them," I said.
"What you want, child?"