"Even for me?" he asked softly. His eyes shone brilliantly with unused tears.
"Beau . . ."
"It's all right. I'm being unfair. I have no right to ask or demand anything from you. You have a right to despise me for leaving you. Nothing that's happened to me or will happen is undeserved," he said.
"We were both at fault, Beau, and both victims of a cruel fate," I replied softly. We stared into each other's eyes, drawing each other closer.
"Ruby," he whispered. He started to reach for me when Gisselle burst into the studio.
"So here you are," she shrilled. "I should have known you would find her. Stevens told me you had come, and when I couldn't find you in the office or living room, I just asked myself, where would he go?"
"Hi, Gisselle," he said. She lunged at him and kissed him fully on the lips, her eyes opened and turned toward me as she did so. "I missed you this morning," she said after she pulled her mouth from his. "When did you leave?"
Beau blushed. "Early. You knew I had to meet with your attorneys."
"Oh. Right. My brain is like a bowl of scrambled eggs today. Well, you might as well tell us what you discussed and what we have to do," she said. "Let's all go to the office and talk." She took Beau's hand and, very full of herself, smiled at me. "All right, Ruby?"
"Fine," I said, and followed them out.
Back at the office, we listened as Beau reviewed what our attorneys believed. How Daphne had gotten Bruce to sign documents excluding himself from her fortune and ours before he married her was a puzzle, but sign them, he did, and the attorneys felt they were ironclad.
"Whatever legal maneuvering he tries will be an exercise in futility," Beau said. "Now, there is a short time left before you take control of everything, but with the attorneys acting as executors, you will have control immediately."
"Then we can spend whatever we want? Buy whatever we want?" Gisselle asked excitedly.
"Yes."
"No more restrictions! The first thing I want is my own sports car. Daphne wouldn't let me have it," she whined, and then turned to me. "You should go through the house and decide what you want to take back to the swamps with you now. I might just have someone come and auction things off," she threatened. "And there is the question of the ranch, our apartment buildings . . ."
"Gisselle, must we discuss this now?"
"I don't care when we discuss it or if we never discuss it. If you want to, just send your attorney around one day to talk to our estate attorneys, right, Beau?"
He gazed at me. "If that's what she wants," he said.
"Let's leave it at that for now," I said. The emotional weight of returning to the house, reviving memories, and then meeting Beau again was overwhelming. I felt like I could sleep a week. "I'd like to just rest for a while," I said. "I think I'll go up to my room. I've got to call home and check on Pearl, too."
Beau shifted his eyes from me to Gisselle and then down to the documents.
"So go take a rest," she said. "I'm not the least bit tired now. In fact, I want to get out of here for a few hours. I feel like I'm suffocating under all this dreariness. Beau, take me down to Jackson Square for coffee and beignets," she commanded.
"If that's what you want to do," he said.
"I do. Thank you, Beau." She beamed a wide smile of self-satisfaction at me.
Beau looked very reluctant to leave, but he did so. phoned Mrs. Flemming and heard that everything was fine at home. Then I went up to what had once been my own room and lay down on the bed in which I had dreamed often of Beau and myself together, happy. I closed my eyes and in moments, I was asleep.
I woke up to the sound of laughter rising from the base of the stairway and listened.
"Come by in an hour to take us to the wake," I heard Gisselle call out, and then I heard her pound up the stairs. She stopped in my doorway and I sat up, grinding the drowsiness out of my eyes.
"Hi," she said. "We had such a nice time. There was a wonderful breeze at the Riverwalk and we sat and watched the tourists and the artists. You should have come along. Are you well rested? Because we have to go to the funeral parlor for the wake. I'm not having people at the house until after the funeral," she said.
"Yes."
"Then get dressed," she sang. "Beau's coming for us in an hour."
She hurried off and I wondered how even she could be in such a party mood on such a dark occasion. But at the wake she behaved properly, producing tears whenever she wanted them. Despite the role he had played in the little conspiracies against my father, I couldn't help but feel some pity for Bruce, who stood alone in a corner most of the time. Apparently the truth about his relationship with Daphne was no secret, and now that Daphne was gone, everyone understood Bruce had little power and relatively little wealth.
All of Daphne's social friends and many of her business associates stopped by to greet us. Our attorneys were there to introduce them. I sensed that Gisselle was becoming impatient and tired of the somber atmosphere. After an hour or so, she was ready to leave. But Beau was at her side imploring her to stay a little longer. Mourners were still arriving. When she gave in, I realized how strong and good an influence he was on her and smiled to myself.
Periodically I would shift my eyes toward him. He and I would gaze at each other and I would feel my heart start to pitter-patter. I was afraid that someone else would see in my face the warm feelings that still flowed through my body whenever I was close to him or he spoke to me, so I tried to avoid him. But it was like trying to avoid a tall glass of cold water after spending days in the dry desert. I couldn't keep my eyes from shifting in his direction, and every time I heard his voice, I stopped speaking and listening to anyone else. It was still music to my ears, but it was difficult for us to spend any time alone, and the next morning, Paul arrived early to accompany me to the funeral.
I knew we were a great curiosity to many people who had heard about my marriage and new life in the bayou. When Daphne's coffin was slid into the Dumas family vault, my thoughts went to Daddy. In my heart I believed he would have rather been laid to rest beside my real mother. I hoped that spiritually, wherever souls went to spend eternity, they had found each other again, and Daphne . . . would be delivered to another place.
After the funeral most of Gisselle's old friends returned with us to the house. The first hour was quiet, but I saw how heavily Bruce was drinking and how angrily he was muttering to his few friends while he eyed Gisselle and me with a growing fury. I had explained the reason to Paul.
Suddenly Bruce dropped the glass in his hand and it shattered on the floor. The crowd of mourners stopped talking. He smiled and wobbled forward.
"What are you all looking at?" he demanded. "You don't have to whisper behind my back anymore. I know what you're thinking. I served my purpose and now I'm to be discarded, is that it?"
"Bruce," I said, stepping forward. "This isn't the time."
"No, La Ruby, this isn't the time. But if you and your sister have your way, there'll never be the time, will there? Well, all right. Enjoy what you've got now, because you won't have it forever. I've got my rights. I know I do, no matter what your high-paid attorneys say," he assured us. Everyone was speechless. Then he smiled and bowed.
"I will take my leave of this fine, upper-class gathering, for I have been informed that I am persona non grata. In short, my presence is no longer appreciated. Not that it ever was. So be it," he said, "for now." He pivoted so sharply, he almost toppled, and then started for the door, followed by two of his associates who took his arms quickly.
The chatter started again. I looked at Gisselle.
"Good riddance to him," she flared, her face red and very angry. "I don't know what he's complaining about. He got more than he deserves anyway. Beau," she suddenly cried weakly. He rushed to her side. "Wasn't that just awful?"
"Yes," he said. "He's just drunk."
"This on top of everything else. I can't stand a moment more. Please, Beau. Help me to my room," she pleaded, and he guided her out, her head on his shoulder as she muttered her apologizes to the people who had stopped by. After that, people began to leave.
"I want to go home tonight, Paul," I declared suddenly.
"Really? But I thought . . ."
"I don't care about any financial arrangements, anything. I just want to go home."
He nodded. He had flown into New Orleans from Baton Rouge, so we would drive back in my car. I went up to my room to pack my suitcase. While I was doing so, I heard a gentle knock on the partially opened door.
"Yes?"
Beau stepped in. "You're going home tonight?"
"Yes, Beau. I can't stay here any longer. It's the longest I've been away from Pearl," I added.
"I'm sorry that I haven't asked you more about her. I just felt . . . like I had no right to ask," he said.
"She is your daughter," I reminded him.
He nodded. "I know. Paul seems to have accepted everything completely. I mean, from the short conversations we've been able to have, I think so."
"He loves Pearl, yes."
"And he loves you," Beau said.
I looked down at my suitcase without replying for a moment. "Gisselle tries to be different when she's with you. I can see that," I said. "Maybe you are good for her."
"Ruby," he said, coming closer. "The only reason I started with her again was that when I looked at her, I could pretend, imagine, I was looking at you. I have this dream that I can make her into you, but it's a foolish dream. There can't be another you and I can't stand the thought that I've lost you and the life we might have had together."
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