"I assume," she began, "that this will be your first baby."

"Oh, of course, madame."

She sneered. "You want to sit there and tell me you were a virgin when my husband made love to you?"

"But it's true, madame."

She stared a moment, her eyes blinking quickly. "Perhaps it is," she said in what I thought was a much sadder, deeper voice. She sighed and looked toward the shaded windows. "It is my fault, me," she said, and brought her lace silk handkerchief to her eyes. "He can obviously make a baby. I'm having trouble."

"I'm sorry, madame."

She spun on me as if she just realized I had heard her words, and her eyes turned crystal-hard.

"I don't want your pity, thank you. What were you doing out there in the pond? Setting a trap for him?"

"What?"

She nodded, her smile slight and twisted. "Bathing in the nude, knowing he was poling nearby, a good-looking, rich man . . ."

"No, madame. I swear."

She grunted and tightened her face again, her skin resembling the surface of an alabaster statue. Then she took a deep breath. "I meant what I told your father: Despite what Octavious has done, this is more of a favor for you and your family than it is for me."

"I know, madame."

"In order for this to work, you will have to obey my every command and be very, very cooperative. It will not be pleasant for me, but it will especially not be pleasant for you for the next six or seven months. You will have to endure loneliness and be quieter than a church mouse. Can you do that?"

"I hope so. I think so, madame."

"I hope so, too. If you disobey me just once," she said, "I'll throw you out and leave you to explain your big stomach, understand? It will be messy, but I think I can convince people around here that you made it all up, despite your mother's good reputation. I have money, friends in high places. People depend on my factory for a living. Whose side do you think they will all take? A poor Cajun girl's or mine?"

I didn't reply. She knew the answer.

"So will you obey my rules?" she pursued.

"Yes, madame. But surely I will be able to see my mother."

"Infrequently and very secretly. What I will do," Gladys Tate thought aloud, "is let it be known I am using a traiteur for my own pregnancy. People will believe she is coming here to see me, but you can see no friends, no other visitors, is that clear?"

"Yes, madame. But where will I stay?"

"I will show you your quarters when you return. I want you to return at night, tonight, in fact. Come at midnight. The house will be quiet. I'll have my butler away, and the maids will, of course, be asleep. Just come to the door. Bring very little. You understand?"

"Oui, madame."

"Good," she said, and rose.

I stood. "I am sorry for all this," I said. "Despite what you might think, I did not want it."

"What I think doesn't matter. What has happened and what we can do to repair the damage to my family and yours is all that matters," she lectured.

I nodded. Was she really so generous, so big of heart, to be able to forgive her husband and plan such a solution? I was hopeful, even grateful, but I didn't like the way her eyes skipped away when I tried to catch them. Was it because she didn't want me to see how deep the pain in her was? Or how deep the thirst for vengeance was?

She opened the door and called to Octavious and Daddy. Daddy came in first, and by the look of delight on his face, I saw he was satisfied with the offer he had gotten.

"Is everything settled?" Gladys asked Octavious. He nodded unhappily.

"I got to get back to work," he said.

"Yes, sir, you go back to work," Daddy told him, and patted him on the back. "I don't want you going bankrupt. Not now." He winked at me. "Come on, Gabrielle. We got to tell your mother what we decided here."

"I told her I want her back here at midnight tonight," Gladys said. "She's to come to the front door herself, understand, monsieur?"

"Sure. What's there to understand?" Daddy said. Then he scowled. "If I hear you don't treat her right, the deal's off," he countered.

She simply smirked. It was as if a fly had threatened an alligator.

"Remember," she told me. "No one is to know and you are to bring very little."

"Yes, madame."

Octavious left first. Daddy stood in the entryway a moment and gazed around, nodding.

"Not a bad place to be living in for a few months, eh, Gabrielle? I'm sure you'll have good things to eat and all."

"Yes, Daddy. Let's go," I urged. He sauntered to the door and then turned on Gladys.

"Don't think any of this makes it all right. It's still a crime, what he done."

Gladys didn't change expression, but her eyes full of accusations shifted to me. I opened the door and stepped out quickly, Daddy following with a wide grin. But when we got into the truck and started away, he stopped smiling.

"You got to help me convince your mama about this, Gabrielle. She's gonna think it's some plan I hatched to make more money. You be sure to tell her it was Gladys Tate's idea, not mine, hear?"

"I will, Daddy."

"Good," he said. And then, thinking about the money, he did break into a wide smile again.

"Is it a lot of money?" I asked.

"What? Oh. Well, not as much as I would have liked, but it will do fine. make sure your mother has a bundle to stash and then I'll buy us some things for the house and maybe even a new truck and tools for me so I can get more work."

"That's good, Daddy," I said. I gazed back at the mansion and thought at least something good has come out of this terrible thing.

Mama said nothing for a few long, heavy. moments. She listened to what Daddy told her, spewing it all in nearly one breath, and then she looked at me and got up from the table to go stand by a window. The plank shutters were open and the breeze blew the cheesecloth we had hung over it so that it flapped about her.

"I don't like it," she finally said. "It don't sound natural, her pretending to be having a baby and all."

"What?" Daddy's eyes bulged as he floundered. "Here we are getting all this money, Gabrielle don't have to walk in broad daylight with her stomach out a mile and take the stares and gossip, and there's a good place for the baby, and you don't like it?"

"Most women I know wouldn't be so gracious about it and want to keep the child as their own, Jack."

"Well, look at the women you know. They ain't got her class. Am I right, Gabrielle?" he asked, and nodded. "Go on, tell her."

"I think it's for the best, Mama. She told me so far she hasn't been able to get pregnant. She blames herself, and I think that's why she's not so hard on Octavious and why she wants to keep the baby."

Mama stared at me a moment. "You understand quite a lot for a young woman, Gabrielle. You're growing up so fast," she said, shaking her head. "But it ain't right this way."

"What you complaining about now, woman? That the child got good sense? Well, she inherited it from you," Daddy offered.

"That, I believe, Jack Landry," she said, fixing her eyes on him. "How much money did they offer you? Come on, tell me quick and no lies."

"Five thousand dollars!" he said. "How's that?"

Mama was impressed, but she still shook her head sadly. "Blood money," she said. "I don't feel right taking it, Jack."

"Well, you're not taking it. I'm taking it," he said. "And it's just your luck I see fit to give some of it to you and do things around here you wanted me to do," he added.

"It's still the same as if I took it."

"Gabrielle," he cried, throwing up his hands. "Will you talk sense into this mother of yours? I'm about outta steam."

"Mama, it's the best solution and at least something good will come from it. Gladys Tate is going to let you visit me, pretending you're treating her."

"What will I tell people about your not being here?" she asked, relenting somewhat.

"You'll tell them she went to visit my brother's family in Beaumont," Daddy suggested. "That'll do just fine, no?"

"No. My friends know I would never let her go visit a Landry," Mama replied. "I'm not a good liar anyway. Don't have your experience, Jack."

"Then don't say nothing. It ain't none of their business anyhow."

"You can tell them I went to visit with your aunt Haddy, Mama. I've always wanted to visit her anyway. It's almost not a lie."

Mama laughed. "You're getting to sound like him," she said, but kept her smile. She walked over to me and stroked my hair and then kissed my forehead. "Poor child. You don't deserve this. It wasn't your fault, but it isn't the first time and it won't be the last something unfair happens in this world. You sure you want to do this?"

"Yes, Mama."

She took a deep breath with her hand on her heart. "You just promise me if you're not happy, you'll come home no matter what, Gabrielle."

"I promise, Mama."

She sat again. "When you supposed to go?"

"Tonight at midnight," I said. She looked frightened, her eyes growing glassy. "It will be fine, Mama."

She bit down on her lower lip and nodded, swallowing back her tears. It made my chest ache.

I went upstairs to choose the few things I would bring with me. I decided to take the pictures of Mama and Daddy when they were first married. I packed some underthings, two nightgowns, three dresses, another pair of moccasins, some ribbons for my hair, my combs and brushes. While I was choosing things, Mama prepared a package that contained her homemade soap, some herbs she wanted me to take with my meals, and a small statue of Saint Medad. I put some books and magazines in my bag and a pad and pen for writing my journals and doodling. I was sure Gladys Tate would give me other things to do when I asked. I could embroider and weave to pass the time.