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?"

"First," I said, grimacing, "Gisselle has a head this big," I said, holding my hands near my ears, "from drinking too much rum."

"This not be the first time," Nina said, smirking. "It don't help her none to make it easier for her."

"I know, but she'll just make things miserable for everyone else if she's miserable, and then somehow Daphne will find a way to blame me."

Nina nodded. "Okay," she said. She went to a cabinet and began taking out the ingredients. "Best if we have a raw egg with a blood spot in it," she mumbled as she began to mix things together. "I been savin' one I found yesterday." I smiled, knowing that if Gisselle discovered what it was she was about to drink, she wouldn't do it. "Here," Nina said after she was done. "Have her drink this in one gulp, no air. That be most important."

"All right."

"What else? You said two things you want from Nina."

"Beau gave me his school ring last night, Nina," I said, showing it to her. "He's pledged his love for me and I've pledged mine to him. Can you burn a candle for us?"

"You need brimstone, not a candle, especially if the love was pledged in this house," she added with wide eyes. "You bring Monsieur Beau to Nina's room later and Nina do it for the two of you while you hold hands."

"I'll tell him, Nina," I said, smiling to myself and wondering what Beau would say when I proposed we do it. "Thank you."

I hurried back upstairs in time to find Gisselle tearing into Martha Woods unmercifully for choosing the wrong clothing and the wrong shoes.

"The woman has no sense of taste. Look! She wanted me to wear this blouse with this skirt and shoes."

"1 just thought she'd want to wear Christmas colors today and . . ."

"It's all right, Martha. I'll help her."

"Oh. Okay," she said with relief. "I do have other duties this morning." She hurried out.

"What's that?"

"Nina's cure. You have to drink it in one gulp. If you don't, it won't work," I said.

She eyed it suspiciously. "Did you ever drink it?"

"I drank something like it for an upset stomach," I replied.

She grimaced. "I'll do anything. I might even cut off my head," she cried and took the glass from me. She sucked in her breath and then brought it to her lips. Her eyes bulged as the elixir rolled over her tongue and taste buds.

"Don't stop," I ordered when it looked like she would stop drinking. I had to admit I enjoyed her discomfort. She drank it all down and then gasped, pressing her hand to her heart.

"Ugh. That was awful. It was probably poison. What was in it?"

"A raw egg, I know. Some herbs. Some powder that might be rattlesnake bone—"

"Oh no. Don't tell me anymore," she cried with her hands up. She swallowed hard. "I think I'm going to vomit." She lunged out of her chair to the bathroom, but she didn't throw up. A few minutes later she emerged, the color restored to her face.