"My Grandmère Catherine taught me that," I said, smiling. "She taught me to be hopeful, to believe in tomorrow." He grimaced with confusion.
"You make her sound so good and yet she was part of the Cajun family that bought you as a stolen baby, right?" he asked.
"Yes, but . . . she didn't learn about it until years later," I said, quickly covering up. "And by that time, it was too late."
"Oh."
"Where are we?" I asked, looking out the window and seeing we were on a highway now that was surrounded by marshlands.
"Just a nice place we go sometimes. There's a good view up ahead," he said, and turned down a side road that brought us to an open field, looking back at the lights of New Orleans. "Nice, huh?"
"Yes. It's beautiful." I wondered if I would ever get used to the tall buildings and sea of lights. I still felt very much like a stranger.
He turned off his engine, but left the radio playing a soft, romantic song. Although it was mostly cloudy now, stars peeked down through any break in the overcast, twinkling brightly. Beau turned to me and took my hand.
"What sort of dates did you have in the bayou?" he asked.
"I never really went on what you would call a date, I suppose. I went to town for a soda. Once, I went to a fais dodo with a boy. A dance," I added.
"Oh. Oh, yeah."
I couldn't see his face in the darkness and it reminded me of our time in the cabana. Just like then, my heart began to pitter-patter for seemingly no reason. I saw his head and shoulders move toward me until I felt his lips find mine. It was a short kiss, but he followed it with a deep moan and his hands clutched my shoulders and held me tightly.
"Ruby," he whispered. "You look like Gisselle, but you're so much softer, so much lovelier that it's very easy for me to tell the difference between you even with a quick glance." He kissed me again and then kissed the tip of my nose. I had my eyes closed and felt his lips slide softly over my cheeks. He kissed my closed eyes and my forehead and then pulled me closer to him to seal my lips with his in a long, demanding kiss that sent invisible fingers over my breasts and down the small of my stomach, making me tingle to my toes.
"Oh, Ruby, Ruby," he chanted. His lips were on my neck and before I knew it, he brought them to the tops of my breasts, moving quickly to the small valley between them. Whatever resistance was naturally in me, softened. I moaned and let myself sink deeper into the seat as he moved over me, his hands now finding their way over my bosom, his fingers expertly sliding the zipper down until my dress loosened enough for him to bring it lower.
"Oh, Beau, I . . ."
"You're so lovely, lovelier than Gisselle. Your skin is like silk to her sandpaper."
His fingers found the clasp of my bra and almost before I knew it, undid it. Instantly, his mouth moved over my breast, nudging my bra away to expose more and more until he found my nipple, erect, firm, waiting despite the voice within me that tried to keep my body from being so willing. It was truly as though there were two of me: the sensible, quiet, and logical Ruby, and the wild, hungry-for-love-and-affection emotional Ruby.
"I have a blanket in the back," he whispered. "We can spread it out and lie out here under the stars and . . ."
And what? I thought finally. Grope and pet each other until there was no turning back? Suddenly, Daphne's furious face flashed before me and her words resounded: ". . . They look for girls who are more promiscuous, more obliging . . . Whether it is true or not, Cajun girls have reputations."
"No, Beau. We're going too fast and too far, I can't . . ." I cried.
"We'll just sprawl out and be more comfortable," he proposed, keeping his lips close to my ear.
"It would be more than that and you know it, Beau Andreas."
"Come on, Ruby. You've done this before, haven't you?" he said with a sharpness that cut into my heart.
"Never, Beau. Not like you think," I replied with indignation. My tone made him regret his accusation, but he wasn't easily dissuaded.
"Then let me be the first, Ruby. I want to be your first. Please," he pleaded.
"Beau . . ."
He continued moving his lips over my breasts, urging and encouraging me with his fingers, his touch, his tongue, and hot breath, but I firmed up my resistance, a resistance fueled by the memory of Daphne's accusations and expectations. I would not fit the image of the Cajun girl they wanted me to be. I would not give any of them the satisfaction.
"What's wrong, Ruby? Don't you like me?" Beau moaned when I pulled myself back and held my dress against my bosom.
"I do, Beau. I like you a lot, but I don't want to do this now. I don't want to do what everyone expects I would do. . . even you," I added.
Beau sat back abruptly, his frustration quickly turning into anger.
"You led me to believe you really liked me," he said.
"I do, Beau, but why can't we stop when I ask you to stop? Why can't we just—"
"Just torment each other?" he asked caustically. "Is that what you did with your boyfriends in the bayou?"
"I didn't have boyfriends. Not like you think," I said. He was silent for a moment. Then he took a deep breath.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply you had dozens of boyfriends."
I put my hand on his shoulder. "Can't we get to know each other a little more, Beau?"
"Yes, of course. That's what I want. But there's no better way than making love," he offered, turning back to me. He sounded so convincing. A part of me wanted to be convinced, but I kept that part under tight wraps, locked behind a door. "You're not going to tell me now you just want to be good friends, are you?" he added with obvious sarcasm when I continued to resist.
"No, Beau. I am attracted to you. I would be a liar to say otherwise," I confessed.
"So?"
"So let's not rush into anything and make me regret it," I added. Those words seemed to stop him cold. He froze in the space between us for a moment and then sat back. I began to fasten my bra.
Suddenly, he laughed.
"What?" I asked.
"The first time I took Gisselle out here, she jumped me and not vice versa," he said, starting the engine. "I guess you two really are very, very different."
"I guess we are," I said.
"As my grandfather would say, viva la difference," he replied, and laughed again, but I wasn't sure if he meant he liked Gisselle's behavior better or he liked mine.
"All right, Ruby," he said, driving us out of the marsh-lands, "I'll take your advice and believe what you predicted about me."
"Which is?"
"If I really want to do something," he said, "I will. Eventually." In the glow from the light of oncoming cars, I saw him smiling.
He was so handsome; I did like him; I did want him, but I was glad I had resisted and remained true to myself and not to the image others had of me.
When we arrived at the house, he escorted me to the door and then turned me to him to kiss me good night.
"I'll come by tomorrow afternoon and we can rehearse some of our lines, okay?" he said.
"I'd like that. I had a wonderful time, Beau. Thank you." He laughed.
"Why do you laugh at everything I say?" I demanded.
"I can't help it. I keep thinking of Gisselle. She would expect me to thank her for permitting me to spend a small fortune on dinner. I'm not laughing at you," he added. "I'm just . . . so surprised by everything you do and say."
"Do you like that, Beau?" I met his blue eyes and felt the heat that sprang up from my heart, hoping for the right answer.
"I think I do. I think I really do," he said, as if first realizing it himself, and then he kissed me again before leaving. I watched him for a moment, my heart now full and happy, and then rang the doorbell for Edgar. He opened it so quickly, I thought he had been standing there on the other side, waiting.
"Good evening, mademoiselle," he said.
"Good evening, Edgar," I sang, and started toward the stairway.
"Mademoiselle."