I pulled back.

"I've got to get going," I said.

He nodded, but as I started back, he pulled my hand.

"Wait," he said. "I want to give you this without a dozen eyes watching." He dug into his pocket and produced a small white box tied with a tiny pink ribbon.

"What is it?"

"Open it," he said, putting it into my palm. I did so slowly and plucked out a gold locket on a gold chain. The locket had a tiny ruby in the center circled with diamond chips. "Oh, Beau, it's beautiful! But it must be very expensive." He shrugged but smiled, indicating I was right.

"Now open the locket," he said, and I did so.

Inside was a picture of him, and across from it was a picture of me. I laughed and kissed him on the cheek quickly.

"Thank you, Beau. It's a wonderful gift. I'll put it on immediately," I said. "Help me with the clasp." I handed it to him and turned around. He draped the locket between my breasts and fastened the chain. Then he kissed me on the neck.

"Now if any other boy gets close to you, he'll have to get through me to reach your heart," he whispered.

"No one else will get that close, Beau," I promised.

"Ruby," we heard Daddy call. "It's time, honey."

"Coming, Daddy."

Beau and I started back. Daddy and Edgar were taking Gisselle off the galerie and transporting her to the rear seat of the Rolls-Royce. The wheelchair was folded and placed in the van.

"Beau, good morning," Daddy said.

"Morning, monsieur."

"How's everyone at home?"

"Fine," he said. Despite the passage of time and the healing of wounds, it was still hard for Daddy and Beau to speak to each other. Daphne had done so much to sensationalize and escalate the situation.

"Ready, Ruby?" Daddy asked, looking from Beau to me. Daddy knew what it meant to leave someone you love behind. His eyes were full of sympathy.

"Yes, Daddy."

Daddy got into the car, and I turned to Beau for our goodbye kiss. Gisselle had her face in the window.

"Come on, already. I can't stand sitting in here when we're not moving."

Beau smiled at her and then kissed me.

"I'll call as soon as I can," I whispered.

"And I'll come as soon as I can. I love you."

"Me too," I said quickly, and ran around the other side to get into the car.

"You could kiss me goodbye too, Beau Andreas. It wasn't so long ago that you couldn't wait to kiss me every chance you got," Gisselle said.

"I will never forget those kisses," Beau teased, and he leaned inside to kiss her quickly.

"That wasn't a kiss," she said "Maybe you forgot how. Maybe you need an expert to teach you again." She flashed a look at me then and added, "Maybe you'll practice while we're away." She laughed and sat back.

Daddy conferred with the driver of the van, reviewing the route to Baton Rouge and the school just in case we got separated.

"What's that?" Gisselle asked when she saw the locket lying between my breasts.

"A gift from Beau."

"Let me see it," she said, leaning forward to take the locket in her fingers. I had to lean over so she wouldn't snap the chain off my neck.

"Be careful," I said.

She opened it and saw our pictures. Her mouth dropped open and she looked back through the window at Beau, who stood talking with Edgar.

"He never gave me anything like that. In fact," she said angrily, "he never gave me anything."

"Maybe he thought you had everything you wanted," I said

She dropped the locket back on my chest and flopped back in the seat to pout. Daddy got into the car and looked at us.

"All set?" he asked.

"No," Gisselle said. "I'll never be set for this."

"We're all set, Daddy," I said. I looked through the window at Beau and mouthed, "Goodbye. I love you." He nodded. Daddy started the engine and we began to pull away.

I looked back through the rearview mirror and saw Nina and Wendy on the galerie, waving. I waved to them and to Edgar and to Beau. Gisselle refused to turn around and wave goodbye to anyone. She sat with her eyes forward, hatefully.

When we reached the gate, I lifted my gaze slowly up the front of the great house until my eyes focused on a window in which the curtains had been drawn back. I studied it, and as the shadows moved away, I saw Daphne standing there gazing down at us.

She was wearing a smile of deep satisfaction.


2

  Further from the Bayou

As we drove out of the Garden District and headed for the highway that would take us to Baton Rouge, Gisselle grew unexpectedly quiet. She pressed her face to the window and gazed out at the olive-green streetcar that rattled down the esplanade, and she looked hungrily at the people who were sitting out in the sidewalk cafes as if she could smell the coffee and the freshly baked breads. New Orleans always seemed busy with tourists, men and women with cameras around their necks and guidebooks in their hands, gazing up at the mansions or at the statues. Some parts of the city had a quiet, lazy rhythm, and other parts were bustling and busy. But the city had character, a life of its own, and it was impossible to live here and not become part of it or stop it from becoming part of you.

When we passed under the long canopy of spreading oaks and passed the great homes and yards filled with camellias and magnolia trees, I too suddenly felt melancholy. The feeling surprised me. I hadn't realized that I had grown to think of this as home. Perhaps because of Daddy, because of Nina and Edgar and Wendy, and certainly because of Beau, I felt a sense of belonging now. I realized I would miss this part of the world that I had come to claim as mine almost a year ago.

I would miss Nina's good cooking and her superstitions and rituals to ward off evil. I would miss the chatter I overheard between her and Edgar when they argued about the power of an herb or the evil eye. I would miss Wendy's singing to herself as she worked, and I would miss Daddy's bright, warm smile when he greeted me every morning.

Despite the clouds of tension Daphne had kept hovering over us from the moment I arrived in New Orleans, I knew I would miss the great house with its enormous entryway, its impressive paintings and statues, its rich, antique furniture. What a thrill it was for me during my early days to leave my room and descend that grand stairway like a princess in a castle. Would I ever forget that first night when Daddy brought me to what would be my room and he opened the door on that enormous bed with the fluffy pillows and linen all in chintz? I would miss the painting above my bed, the picture of the beautiful young woman in a garden setting feeding a parrot. I would miss my large closets and my large bathroom with a tub I could soak in for hours and hours.

I had become so comfortable in our mansion, and yes, I had to confess, somewhat spoiled. Having grown up in a Cajun toothpick house built out of cypress with a tin roof, a home where the rooms were no bigger than some of the closets in the House of Dumas, I was bound to fall into awe when I confronted what was rightly my home too. I would surely miss the evenings when I sat out on the patio and read while the bluejays and mockingbirds flitted around me and settled on the railings of the gazebo to stare. I would miss smelling the ocean in a breeze and occasionally hearing a foghorn in the distance.

And yet I had no right to be unhappy, I thought. Daddy was spending a great deal of money to send us to this private school, and he was doing it so we wouldn't have gray, sad days, so that we would enjoy our teenage years unmolested by the dark burdens of past sins, sins we had yet to understand or even discover. Maybe in time, some joy would return to Daddy's life. Perhaps then we could all be together again.

There I was, believing in blue skies when there were only clouds on the horizon, believing in forgiveness where there was only anger, jealousy, and selfishness. If only Nina really had a magical ritual, a chant, an herb, an old bone we could wave over the house and its inhabitants and turn out the dark shadows that lived in our hearts.

We made a turn and had to come to a stop to wait for a funeral procession to go by, something that accented my sudden mood of despair.

"Oh great," Gisselle complained.

"Just be a moment," Daddy said.

Half a dozen black men in black suits played brass instruments and swayed to their music. The mourners who followed carried furled umbrellas, most swaying to the same rhythm. I knew that if Nina were with us, she'd see this as a bad omen and cast one of her magical powders in the air. Later, she'd burn a blue candle, just to be sure. Instinctively I reached down-and fingered the charmed dime she had given me.

"What's that?" Gisselle asked.

"Just something Nina gave me as a good luck charm," I said.

Gisselle smirked. "You still believe in that stupid stuff? It embarrasses me. Take it off. I don't want my new friends knowing you're so backward and you're my sister," she ordered.

"You believe in what you want to believe in, Gisselle, and I'll believe in what I want."

"Daddy, will you tell her she can't bring those silly charms and things to Greenwood. She'll embarrass the family." She turned back to me. "It's going to be hard enough keeping your background a secret," she claimed.

"I'm not asking you to keep anything about me secret, Gisselle. I'm not ashamed of my past."

"Well you should be," she said in a humph, glaring at the train of the funeral procession as if annoyed that someone had had the audacity to die and have his or her funeral just when she wanted to pass.

As soon as the procession did go by, Daddy continued and we turned toward the exit that would take us to the interstate and Baton Rouge. It was then that the reality of what was happening pinched Gisselle again.