"This!" Gisselle said, and she started to rise out of the chair, pretending it was a mammoth struggle. Daphne's face went from bewilderment to glee. Bruce laughed and put his hand on Daphne's shoulder. I watched as Gisselle tottered, steadied herself, took deep breaths, grimaced as if in pain, and then let go of the arms of her chair to stand free. She wobbled with her eyes closed and then, pretending it took all her concentration and strength, made one small step forward and then another. She looked like she was going to fall, so Bruce raced to embrace her and she collapsed in his arms.
"Oh Gisselle, how wonderful!" Daphne cried. Gisselle gulped in some air, her hand pressed to her chest, milking the event for all it was worth.
"I've been working on it," she gasped. "I knew I could get up and I have taken a step or two before, but I wanted to walk all the way to you. I'm so disappointed," she moaned. "I'll try again."
"That's all right. Your just doing this much is a wonderful Christmas present, isn't it, Bruce?"
"It sure is," he said, still holding her firmly. "You'd better take it easy." He guided her back to her wheelchair. As he helped her into it, she glanced triumphantly at me.
"Did you know about this, Ruby?" Daphne asked.
I looked at Gisselle and then at Daphne. "No," I said. This was a house and a family built on lies. My addition wouldn't even be noticed, and I was convinced Daphne and Gisselle deserved one another's deceit and conniving.
"What a surprise. And to keep it from everyone, even your twin sister, just so you could do it first for us. This is very nice of you, Gisselle."
"I promise, Mother," Gisselle pledged, "that I will work hard at regaining my ability to walk and be right behind you when you go down the aisle to marry Bruce."
"That would be . . . just fantastic." She looked at Bruce. "Think of how the wedding guests will react. Why, it's as if . . . as if my new marriage restored the health of this family."
"So you see, Mother," Gisselle said, "I can't go back to Greenwood now. I need daily rehabilitation work and Nina's good cooking instead of that dormitory slop. Just get me a tutor and let me stay here."
Daphne pondered for a moment. "Let me think about it," she said.
Gisselle beamed. "Thank you, Mother."
"Now then, I'm really hungry this morning. This has been a far better Christmas than I had anticipated," Daphne said, rising. "Santa?" She held out her arm and Bruce rushed to take it. I watched them leave and then turned to Gisselle. She was beaming from ear to ear.
"She'll let us stay home now. You'll see."
"Maybe she'll let you stay home, but not me," I said. "I don't have a handicap to miraculously overcome."
Gisselle shrugged. "Anyway, thanks for keeping your mouth shut and going along."
"I didn't go along. I just stood to the side and watched you two fill each other with lies," I said.
"Whatever. Here," she said, thrusting Paul's gift at me. "You probably have so many secret thoughts, you can fill two of these in a day."
I took the diary and started to follow as she wheeled herself out, but at the doorway, I paused to look back at the tree and the obese pile of open gifts. How I longed for a real Christmas morning again, when the truly important gift was the gift of love.
Beau arrived shortly after his own family had exchanged gifts, and I gave him my present, which was a gold identification bracelet I had bought him the day after Gisselle and I arrived home. Underneath I had the jeweler inscribe, "With all my love, always, Ruby."
"I have three of these that lay in my drawer at home," he said, putting it on, "but none of them had any meaning until now." He kissed me quickly on my lips before anyone came into the parlor.
"Now I have a favor to ask of you," I said. "And you can't laugh."
"What could that be?" He smiled widely in anticipation.
"Nina's going to burn some brimstone for us, to bless our love and keep the evil spirits from destroying it."
"What?"
"Come on," I said, taking his hand. "It doesn't hurt to be safe."
He laughed as we hurried down the corridor to Nina's room. I knocked on the door and entered when she said for us to come in. Beau nearly gasped at the sight of the small room cluttered with voodoo paraphernalia: dolls and bones, chunks of what looked like black cat fur, strands of hair tied with leather string, twisted roots, and strips of snakeskin. The shelves were crowded with small bottles of multicolored powders, stacks of yellow, blue, green, and brown candles, jars of snake heads, and a picture of the woman I knew to be Marie Laveau sitting on what looked like a throne. Nina often burned white candles around it at night when she chanted her prayers.
"Who's that?" Beau asked.
"You be New Orleans boy and you don't know that be Marie Laveau, Voodoo Queen?"
"Oh yes. I've heard of her." He glanced at me and bit down on his lower lip.
Nina went to her shelves to fetch a small ceramic jar. She and I had performed a similar ceremony when I had first arrived from the bayou.
"You both hold it," she commanded. She lit a white candle and mumbled a prayer. Then she brought the candle to the ceramic jar and dipped the flame toward the contents so the brimstone would burn, but it didn't catch on. She glanced at me and looked worried and then tried again, holding the candle longer until a small stream of smoke twisted its way up. Beau grimaced because the stench was unpleasant, but I had been expecting it and held my breath.
"Both close your eyes and lean over so the smoke touches your faces," she prescribed. We did so. We heard her mumble something.
"Hey, this is getting hot," Beau complained. His fingers slipped and I fumbled with the jar to keep from dropping it. Nina plucked it from my hand and held it firmly.
"The heat be nothing," she chastised, "compared to the heat of evil spirits." Then she shook her head. "Nina hope it be enough brimstone smoke."
"It's enough," Beau assured her.
"Thank you, Nina," I said, seeing how uncomfortable he was. She nodded, and Beau urged me toward the door.
"Yes, thank you, Nina," he added. He pulled me out. "Don't laugh, Beau Andreas."
"I'm not laughing," he said, but I saw he was very happy we had left and were returning to the parlor.
"My Grandmère taught me never to laugh at anyone's beliefs, Beau. No one has a monopoly on the truth when it comes to spiritual things."
"You're right," he said. "And anyway, whatever makes you comfortable and happy makes me comfortable and happy. I mean that," he promised, and kissed me.
A moment later Gisselle wheeled herself in, looking very full of herself. All the talk at breakfast had been about her wonderful recuperation. Edgar and Nina were told, but both looked so unimpressed Gisselle suspected I had told them.
"Am I interrupting anything?" she asked Beau coyly.
"As a matter of fact, you are," he replied, smiling.
"Too bad. Did you tell him yet?" she asked me.
"Tell me what?"
"I guess you haven't, because it's not as important to you as it is to everyone else." She turned to Beau, took a dramatic breath, and announced, "I'm regaining the use of my legs."
"What?" Beau looked at me, but I said nothing.
"That's right. My paralysis is going away. Soon I will be competition for Ruby again, and she's not too happy about that, are you, Sister dear?"
"I've never been in competition with you, Gisselle," I retorted.
"Oh no? What do you call your hot romance with my old boyfriend here?" she snapped.
"Hey, I think I might have something to say about all this," Beau told her. "And besides, Ruby and I were seeing each other way before the accident."
She smirked and then laughed her thin, sardonic laugh. "Men think they've made a decision, but the truth is, we have them wound around our little finger. You were always a bit too conservative for me, Beau. It was my decision to leave you behind. I was the one who made it possible for you two to meet and . . ."—she twisted her lips into her condescending smile—"get to know each other."