All That Glitters

11

Nothing Ventured

Beau was very excited and happy about Paul's proposal, but I was troubled by Paul's willingness to be part of this. What was he thinking? What was he hoping would happen as a result? I tossed and turned all night, haunted by the things that could go wrong and expose our deception. Once that happened, people would want to know more, and then the truth about Paul and me with all the sins of the past would be revealed. Not only would Pearl and I be disgraced, but the Tates would be devastated. The risks were enormous. I was sure Paul understood them as well as I did, but he was determined to remain tied to me, even in this bizarre fashion.

When I awoke in the morning, I thought it had all been a dream until Paul knocked on my door and poked his head in to tell me we would leave for the Dumas country home a little after two. He estimated the ride to the ranch would take us close to three hours. A ripple of apprehension shot down my spine. I rose and started to make preparations. My body actually trembled as I moved about, thinking about what I would and wouldn't take.

Since my taste in clothing and Gisselle's was different, I realized I had to leave most of my things behind, but I decided to take the jewelry and the mementoes that were most precious to me. I packed as many of Pearl's things as I could without drawing any suspicions. After all, we were supposed to be going away for only a few days.

As I folded Pearl's things into her small suitcase, I thought how strange it was going to be for me to pretend I was only her aunt and not her mother. Fortunately, Pearl was still young enough so that when she called me Mommy, people would only assume she was confused. I would say that it was easier to let her do so for now. What I dreaded was later when she was old enough to understand it all, because then I would have to tell her the truth as to why her father and I had done this and why I took my sister's name. I couldn't help worrying about how it might change the way she thought of us.

I spent the morning wandering about Cypress Woods with Pearl, drinking it all in as though I would never see any of it again. I knew whenever I did return, it would look different to me since I had to think of it no longer as my home, but as my sister's home, a place to visit and a place I supposedly disliked. I would have to behave as though the bayou were as foreign as China to me, for that was the way Gisselle reacted to it.

I thought that would be the hardest thing to do: pretend to hate the bayou. No matter how I practiced, I was sure I couldn't be very convincing about that. Surely my heart would not permit me to mock and complain about the world in which I had grown and the world I had loved all my life.

While Pearl was taking her nap, I went up to my studio to store the things I wanted to protect from time and inattention. As my sister, Gisselle, I would have to do any drawing and painting secretly. Once the news got out that Ruby was an invalid, semiconscious and mentally impaired, the new paintings could no longer be delivered to the art gallery, but I took solace in the fact that I wasn't doing them so much for the fame and money as I was for my own inner satisfaction.

Paul returned home for lunch, which was hard for both of us. Neither of us came right out and said it, but we knew this was the last meal we would sit down to as man and wife. It was important that we didn't act too differently in front of our servants. Nevertheless, every other moment it seemed we were both gazing across the table at each other as if we had just met and neither knew how to begin a sentence. Tension made us overly polite toward each other. Twice we started simultaneously.

"Go on," he said again.

"No, you go on this time," I insisted.

"I wanted to assure you I would see that the studio is kept clean. Maybe you and Beau will vacation here and you can slip up there and do some work, if you like. I'll just say the work was completed before Ruby became so sick."

I nodded, although I didn't think that would ever happen. Despite the fact that it was Gisselle who had contracted St Louis encephalitis and not me, it made me feel strange to talk about myself as the one who was seriously ill. I quickly envisioned everyone's initial reactions, reactions I wouldn't see because I would be already gone. I expected Paul's sisters would be very upset. His mother would probably be overjoyed, but I did think his father would be sad, for we had gotten along quite well despite Gladys Tate's feelings toward me. The servants would take it hard. I was sure there would be tears.

As soon as the news was spread throughout the bayou, all the people who knew me would feel terrible. Many of Grandmère Catherine's friends would go to church and light a candle for me. As I imagined these scenes, one after the other, I felt a sense of guilt for causing all this sorrow based on a grand deception and I began to wilt in my seat.

"Are you all right?" Paul asked after our dishes were cleared away.

"Yes," I said, but the tears burned under my eyelids and I felt one hot flush after another. Suddenly the room was like an oven. "I'll be right back," I cried, and got up abruptly.

"Ruby!"

I ran out of the dining room and into a bathroom to throw cold water on my cheeks and forehead. When I gazed at myself in the mirror, I saw how the blood had drained from my face, leaving me looking white as fresh milk.

"You're going to be punished for doing this," I warned my reflection. "Maybe someday you will become seriously ill, too."

My mind was in turmoil. Should I put a stop to it before it was too late?

There was a gentle knock on the door.

"Ruby. Beau's on the phone," Paul said. "Are you all right?"

"Yes. I'll be right there, Paul. Thank you."

I dabbed my face with more cold water, quickly wiped it dry, and then went into the office for privacy. "Hello."

"Paul said you weren't doing so well. Are you all right?"

"You still want to go through with it, don't you?" he asked, his voice cracking with fear of disappointment. I took a deep breath. "Everything's set," he added before I could reply. "I have the station wagon prepared like an ambulance so we can drive her back to Cypress Woods, pretending it's you. I'll follow in Paul's car and help get her into the house. He's still willing to go through with it all, isn't he?"

"Yes, but . . . Beau . . . what if I can't do this?"

"You can. You must. Ruby, I love you and you love me and we have a daughter to bring up together. It's what was meant to be. We have a chance to defeat Fate. Let's not throw it away. I promise. I'll be at your side constantly. I'll make sure it works."

Strengthened by his words, I felt myself regain composure. The blood returned to my face and my heart stopped pounding.

"All right, Beau. We'll be there."

"Good. I love you," he said, and hung up. I heard another click and realized Paul had been listening in on our conversation, but I wasn't going to embarrass him by letting him know I knew. He left to complete some last-minute errands and I fetched Pearl after her nap and fed her lunch. Afterward, I took her up to my room to wait. My small suitcase and my pocketbook looked pathetic beside the vanity table. I was taking so little with me, but when I had first returned to the bayou, I had brought even less, I reminded myself.

I became very fidgety. The minutes seemed more like hours. When I gazed out the window, I saw clouds moving in from the southwest. They were growing thicker and longer. The wind became stronger and I realized a storm was brewing. A bad omen, I thought. I trembled and embraced myself. Was Nature, the bayou, conspiring to keep me from doing this? I knew Grandmère Catherine might say something just like that if she were at my side now. Lightning flashed and there was a roar of thunder that seemed to shake the house.

Just a little after two o'clock, Paul came to my door and peered in. "Ready?"

I looked around one final time and nodded. My knees were knocking together and my abdomen felt like a hollowed-out cave, but I lifted Pearl into my arms and leaned over to get my bag.

"I'll get it," he said, and picked it up before I could. He gazed into my eyes, searching for my true inner feelings, but I looked away quickly.

"You're going to miss it here, Ruby," he said, piercing me with his diamond-hard glare. "No matter how much you tell yourself you won't, you will. The bayou is as much a part of you as it is a part of me. That's why you returned to it when you were in trouble," he said.

"It's not like I won't ever return, Paul."

"Once we make the switch and we go through the performances, it will be impossible for you to return as Ruby, though," he reminded me sharply.

"I know," I said.

"You must really love him to do all this to be with him," he said, his voice dripping with envy. When I didn't reply, he sighed and gazed out the windows at the canals for a moment. Poor Paul, I thought. A part of him wanted to vent rage and anger at both Beau and me, but that part of him that loved me prevented it and left him filled with frustration.

"Disregard what I just said," he muttered. "If he abuses you or betrays you, or something unexpected happens, I will find a way for you to return," he promised, and turned to look at me intently. "I'd turn the world topsy-turvy to get you back at my side," he added.

Was this why he was being so cooperative? I wondered. Because he wanted to be there for me should something go wrong? Deep in my heart I knew, no matter what he said or did, Paul would never give me up.

He went into Pearl's room to get the suitcase of things I had packed for her and then we all descended the stairs quickly.

The rain had started, so we had to ride with the windshield wipers wagging monotonously. As we left the long drive, I turned back once to look at the great house. Our lives are filled with so many different sorts of good-byes, I thought. We can say good-bye to the people we love, or the people we've known most of our lives, but we can say good-bye to places, too, especially the places that had become a part of who and what we were. I had said good-bye to the bayou before, once thinking I would never come back, but I always believed that if I had, it would still be what it had been to me. In a strange way, I felt as if I were betraying it, too, this time, and I wondered if a place could be as reluctant to forgive you as could people.

The rain came down in a solid sheet. Despite the humidity, I had a wintry feeling rush through my body, and shuddered. I checked Pearl, but she seemed quite comfortable and content.

"Isn't it funny how far we will go to be with someone we think we love," Paul suddenly said, speaking softly. "A grown man will behave like a young boy, a young boy will do everything he can to appear like a grown man. We'll risk our reputations, sacrifice our worldly possessions, defy our parents, even our religious beliefs. We'll do illogical and foolish things, things that are impractical, wasteful, just for a moment of what we think is ecstasy on earth."

"Yes," I said. "Everything you say is true, but knowing it's true doesn't keep us from doing these things."

"I know," he replied bitterly. "I understand better than you think I do. I know you could never fully understand me and why I wanted to be with you so much, but I have a feeling you appreciate my feelings for you now."

"I do," I said.

"Good. Because you know what, Ruby?" He looked at me with icy eyes. "Someday you're going to come back." He said it with such assurance, I felt a chill in my heart. Then we turned onto the main highway and sped up, shooting into my new destiny with a fury that took my breath away.

Pearl fell asleep during the ride. She usually did fall asleep in the car. Two hours after we had started, the rain began to move off and some sunlight pierced through the layer of lighter clouds. Paul studied the directions Beau had given him earlier, and less than an hour later, we found the road to the ranch.

The main building of what Daphne used to refer to as her ranch was châteauesque. It had a steeply pitched hipped roof with spires, pinnacle, turrets, gables, and two shaped chimneys. The ornamental metal cresting along the roof's ridges had elaborate moldings. Both the windows and the doorway were arched. To the right were two small cottages for the servants and caretakers, and to the right of that, some thousand yards or so away, were the stables with the riding horses and a barn. The property had rambling fields with patches of wooded areas and a stream cutting across its north end.

Like some chateau in the French countryside, it had beautiful gardens and two gazebos on the front lawn, as well as benches and chairs and stone fountains. When we arrived, the caretakers were busily at work trimming hedges and weeding. They were an elderly couple and looked up for only one curious moment before turning back to their work so fast, it was as if someone had snapped a whip.

Beau was in the doorway before we had parked our car. He gestured for us to come in quickly. Pearl was still asleep, her eyelids barely fluttering when I lifted her into my arms to follow Paul to the house. Beau stepped back, smiling softly at me.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, even though a paralyzing numbness gripped me.

Paul and Beau looked at each other a moment and then Beau became very serious, his eyes narrowing and darkening.

"We'd better hurry," he said.

"Lead the way," Paul replied sharply.

We entered the chateau. It had a short foyer decorated with drapes and large scenic paintings. The furnishings were a mixture of modern and some of the same French Provincial found in the New Orleans house. The lights were low, the curtains closed on the windows. Shadows fell everywhere, especially over the stairway. We hurried up.

"Let's get Pearl settled in first," Beau suggested, and took us immediately to a nursery. "That was Gisselle's old crib," he said. "Apparently Daphne had guests with children from time to time. She loved being the hostess with the mostest," he said, smirking at me.

Pearl moaned when I placed her in the crib. I waited a moment to see if she would wake, but she just sighed and turned on her side. Then Beau turned to Paul.

"I managed to get a folding gurney for us to use. No one knows or suspects anything," he assured me. "Money stops curiosity."

"It doesn't solve every problem," Paul said pointedly, shifting his eyes to me, too. I looked down and Beau nodded without a reply and ushered us out. We followed him to the master suite. Gisselle looked tiny in the king-size canopy bed with the quilt up to her chin. Her hair was strewn out over the pillow and her complexion was pasty white.

"She goes in and out of coma now," Beau explained.

"Oh, Beau. She really belongs in a hospital," I moaned.

"Paul can have her put in one if his doctor so advises. Mine didn't think it would matter much as long as she had good nursing care."

"I'll take care of it," Paul said, his eyes fixed on Gisselle. "She'll get the best possible attention."

"Then let's get started," Beau said, obviously anxious to begin before any of us changed his or her mind. Paul nodded and went around to the side of the bed to help move Gisselle, to the waiting gurney. Beau leaned in and scooped under her arms. Her eyelids fluttered but didn't open as he lifted and slid her toward the edge of the bed. Then he nodded at Paul, who took hold of her legs. They placed her on the gurney. She was in a white cotton nightgown with frilly sleeves and a blue flower pattern over the bodice. I was sure Beau had picked it out, knowing it was something I would wear.

He put a blanket over her and then looked at me. "We have to exchange the wedding rings," he said. "I've already taken hers off."

He handed it to me. It felt hot in my fingers. I looked at Paul, who stared with an expression of curiosity. It was as if he were studying my every move to see just what I would do and how I would feel about what I did. I turned around and twisted at my ring. My finger was a bit swollen and it wouldn't come right off.

"Run some cold water over it," Beau advised. He nodded toward the bathroom. I looked at Paul again. He seemed happy about the difficulty I was having symbolically separating from him.

Water helped and the ring came off. Beau quickly worked it onto Gisselle's finger.

"Any other rings?" he asked me.

"No, nothing I wear all the time."

"She changed her jewelry so often, no one would remember anything she wore, except her wedding ring." He started to wheel the gurney toward the door and stopped.

"I'll bring the station wagon to the front. I'll back right up to the front steps. Wait right here." He hurried out and down.

Paul gazed at Gisselle a moment and then sighed deeply and looked at me. "Well, here we are, doing it," he said.

My heart was tripping along so fast, I couldn't catch my breath. "Do whatever the doctor says, Paul," I told him.

"You don't have to say it. Of course I will." He hesitated a moment and then added, "I've already spoken to a doctor about this condition."

"You have?"

"Yes, someone in Baton Rouge this morning."

"And?"

"She could recover," he said, and fixed his eyes on me. Now I understood. This was his hope: Gisselle's return to health forcing me to return to Cypress Woods.

It was on the tip of my tongue to put an end to our exchange of identities.

"Stay with her a moment," he said before I could comment. He left to go down to speak with Beau. Alone with my sick twin sister, I stepped up to the gurney and took her cold hand into mine.

"Gisselle," I whispered. "I don't know if you can hear me, if it's only your eyes that are shut and not your mind, but I want you to know that I never did anything to hurt you and I'm not doing anything to hurt you now. Even you, in your sick state, must realize Fate has taken over and decided our destinies. I'm sorry you are so ill. I did nothing to bring it about unless you want to say my love for Beau is so great, I must have stirred the spirits to decide we belong together. In your secret, most put-away heart, I know you believe we belong together, too."

I leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. A moment later I heard Beau and Paul come up the stairs.

"Just wheel her to the top of the stairway there," Beau instructed. "Then I'll fold the gurney's legs up and we'll carry her down."

"Be careful," I warned.

The two of them did struggle on the steps, but they managed to get her down quickly. Beau released the legs and the wheels again and they rolled her to the doorway. I started after them and followed them out, watching them load the gurney into the back of the wagon. Beau closed the door and then the two of them looked back at me. After a moment Paul stepped up.

"I guess this is good-bye . . . for now," he said. He leaned forward to kiss me. I watched him stroll back to the station wagon.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Beau promised.

"Beau." I seized his hand. "He thinks she will make a full recuperation and we'll have to return to our true identities someday."

Beau shook his head. "My doctor has assured me that won't happen."

"But . . ."

"Ruby, it's too late to turn back," he said. "But don't worry. It's meant to be." He, too, kissed me and then went to Paul's car. Then he hurriedly returned to me. I held my breath, expecting he had decided not to go through with it. But that wasn't it.

"I almost forgot. Just in case," he said, "the caretakers' names are Gerhart and Anna Lenggenhager. They both have such thick German accents, you probably won't understand them half the time, but don't worry. Gisselle would never talk to them unless it was to shout an order at them. She had no patience when it came to trying to understand them. But they're very nice people. Also, the maid's name is Jill and the cook's name is Dorothea. I've left instructions for your dinner to be brought to the suite. No one will think anything of it. Gisselle often ate in the suite."

"What about Pearl?"

"Just tell Jill what you want brought up for her. They know our niece was coming. And don't worry. No one will ask any questions. Everything's been taken care of," he assured me. Then he kissed me again and returned to the car.

I stood there, watching them drive away. When I gazed to the left, I saw Gerhart and Anna looking at me. They turned away quickly and went to their cottage. With my heart thumping, I entered the house again. I thought about exploring, but decided to go up to Pearl instead and be sure she hadn't woken to find herself in a strange room. I knew it would frighten her. It frightened me to realize I was here.

From the look in Jill's eyes when she came up for her instructions a little while later, I knew she feared Gisselle. Pearl had woken and I had her with me in the suite. Jill knocked so softly on the door, I didn't hear her the first time.

"Yes?" I called. She opened the door slowly and stepped only a few inches into the room. She was a tall, thin girl with a birdlike face, her mouth small, her nose long, and her dark eyes set back in her head. Her dark brown hair was snipped short.

"Dorothea would like to know if Madame wants anything special this evening."

I hesitated a moment, realizing this would be the first time I would speak to anyone as my sister, Gisselle. I envisioned her first, recalling the way she always smirked with annoyance when a servant made an inquiry or request.

"I'd like a light meal. Just some chicken and rice with a little salad and ice water," I replied as matter-of-factly as I could. I looked away quickly.

"And the child?"

I gave her instructions for Pearl's meal just as firmly and she nodded, quickly retreating, seemingly happy to hear nothing else. What an ogre Gisselle had been, I thought. Surely I was not capable of performing exactly like her.

Later, when she brought up our food and set the table, Jill risked smiling at Pearl, who was gazing at her with great interest. Immediately after, however, she shot a fearful glance at me, expecting to be reprimanded for taking too much time or permitting herself to be distracted. It was all I could do to remain silent rather than try to be nasty.

"Will there be anything else, madame?" she asked.

"Not at the moment." I started to say thank you and then stopped, recalling that was an expression Gisselle rarely used, except sarcastically. Jill didn't expect it either. She was already turned and marching out.

I didn't think I would have much of an appetite, but I was so nervous, my stomach felt like it had a small bird trapped inside, flapping its wings. I thought it would be best to put something in it. Even though the food was delicious, I ate mechanically, unable to do anything but wonder what was happening, how Paul and Beau managed the delivery of Gisselle. I thought about the shock on everyone's face when Paul said something had happened and they had decided to bring me back quickly. I was on pins and needles until I heard footsteps on the stairway hours and hours later, and opened the door to see Beau rushing up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. He smiled at the sight of me.

"It's all right," he said quickly, catching his breath. "It went well. Your servants bought it hook, line, and sinker." He took my hands into his. "Welcome to your new life, Mrs. Andreas, the life that was meant to be."

I looked into his eyes and thought, yes, I'm Mrs. Andreas, Mrs. Beau Andreas.

He embraced me and held me tightly to him for a moment before kissing me on the forehead, and then moving down my face to kiss me firmly on the lips.

Our first night together as man and wife was not as romantic as either of us had anticipated. Despite his bravado, Beau was just as emotionally drained by the ordeal as I was. After we lay together in bed for a while, holding and kissing each other, he revealed how tense he had been and how nervous about the exchange.

"I wasn't sure what Paul was going to do," he said. "To be honest, I half expected he was going to sabotage it all deliberately. Especially after what you had told me on the front steps. I began to realize how much he didn't want to lose you," he said.

"Before you took Gisselle down to the car, he went out to talk to you. What did he say?" I asked.

"More like warn and threaten me, you mean."

"Why? What did he say?"

"He said he was going through with this only because he was convinced it was what you wanted and what you thought would make you happy, but if he heard just one negative thing about our relationship, if I did anything to make you unhappy, he would expose the exchange and reveal our deception. He assured me he didn't care about his own reputation or what the consequences might be for him. I believe him, so don't you ever tell him anything bad," Beau said, half smiling.

"There won't be anything bad to tell him, Beau."

"No. There won't," he promised. He kissed me again and started to caress me, but I was exhausted and still too nervous.

"Let's save our honeymoon nights for New Orleans," he decided.

I nodded and we fell asleep in each other's arms.

Our plan was to return immediately to New Orleans, explaining that something terrible had happened to my sister, Ruby, and we had to care for her child in the interim. No one seemed particularly upset about our leaving the château so abruptly. On the contrary, I thought I saw a look of relief on Gerhart and Anna's faces, and genuine happiness on Jill's.

On the way back to New Orleans, Beau revealed he had let go of all of the servants in the House of Dumas. "Oh no," I said, feeling sorry for them.

"It's all right." He smiled. "They weren't exactly in love with serving Gisselle, and I gave each and every one of them six months' severance salary. It's better that we start with new people. It will make it so much easier for you," he said. I had to agree with that.

For me, returning to the House of Dumas was perhaps the most difficult part of our deception. It was a partly cloudy day in New Orleans, with the sun only teasing the world from time to time with slim rays of sunshine. The shadows cast by the heavy clouds made the streets under the long canopies of spreading oaks darker, and even the beautiful Garden District with its rich, fine homes and extravagant gardens looked sad and depressed to me.

All of the windows in the grand house were dark, the shades drawn in the ivory mansion that had once been my father's happy home. Absent of any activity in and around it, the property looked so deserted and lonely, it made my heart feel as heavy as a lump of lead in my chest. As we drove up to the front gallery, I half expected my stepmother, Daphne, to appear in the doorway and demand to know what we were doing here. But no one appeared; nothing moved except an occasional gray squirrel whose curiosity had been tickled by our arrival.

"We're home," Beau declared. I nodded, my eyes fixed on the tile stairway and front door. "Relax," he said, taking my hand and shaking it as if he could shake the nervousness out of my body. "We're going to do just fine."

I forced a smile and looked hopefully into his summer blue eyes, bright with excitement. How far we had come from that first day when I had arrived secretly from the bayou and he had met me standing in front of the great house, gaping with wonder and filled with trepidation about meeting my real father for the first time. Now it seemed even more ironic and perhaps even prophetic that Beau had mistaken me for Gisselle back then, thinking she had disguised herself as a poor girl for the Mardi Gras costume ball.

Beau gathered our things and I took Pearl into my arms. She gazed at everything with curiosity. I kissed her cheek.

"This is going to be your new home, honey. I hope it has better luck for you than it did for me."

"It will," Beau promised. He marched ahead of us to the front door and unlocked it. He quickly turned on the chandeliers, for the dismal sky made the great foyer cold and dark. The lights made the peach marble floor glitter and illuminated the ceiling mural, the paintings, and the enormous tapestry depicting a grand French palace and gardens. Pearl's eyes were wide with astonishment. She gazed quickly at everything, but she clung to me tightly.

"Right this way, madame," Beau called. His voice echoed through the empty mansion. As he proceeded before us, he turned on whatever lamp or hall light he could. I followed quickly to the beautiful curved stairway with its soft carpeted steps and shiny mahogany balustrade.

Despite its plush antique furniture, its expensive wall hangings, its vast rooms, the grand house had never been a home to me. I was a stranger from a strange land when I came here to live, and at the moment, I felt even more alien. When I had first set eyes on the inside of the mansion, I thought it was more of a museum than it was a house. Now, with the bitter and sad memories still clinging to the walls of my mind, I knew it would take even more of an effort to make it cozy and warm and feel welcome and secure here.

"I thought you might want to make your old room into Pearl's nursery," Beau suggested. He opened the door of what had been my room and stood back, grimacing like a satisfied cat.

"What?"

I gazed in. There was a crib similar to the one Pearl had at Cypress Woods, with a matching dresser and a little desk and chair. My mouth fell open in astonishment.

"How?"

"I came back into New Orleans right after we had our conversation and paid a furniture dealer twice the price to get everything set up for her," he said. "Then I rushed back to the ranch."

I shook my head in amazement.

"I want this to work," he said softly but determinedly. "For all of us."

"Oh, Beau." Tears came to my eyes. Pearl did seem happy and was eager to explore her new surroundings.

"I'll make some phone calls and start the ball rolling for us to get some new servants. The agency will send candidates for butler and maid and cook."

"What will people think once they hear about all the servants leaving?" I asked.

"Nothing. It wouldn't be anything unexpected. I'm sure they were all mumbling complaints about Gisselle anyway. After Daphne's death and Bruce's departure from the house, she became so oppressive and demanding, I felt sorry for them. The fact is, I had to plead and beg with them not to quit." He paused. "Gisselle and I took Daphne and Pierre's suite," he said. "Might as well make yourself at home," he suggested.

I took Pearl into my arms again and followed him across the hall. Very little had been changed in the suite. It still had its great canopy bed and elaborate velvet drapes over the windows. However, the vanity table was a mess and there were some garments tossed over the love seat.

"Gisselle wasn't the neatest woman. She didn't respect her possessions because she replaced them so often. We were always arguing about that," Beau said. The closet door was open and I could see her vast array of dresses, skirts, and blouses, some dangling from their hangers precariously, some actually on the floor of the closet.

"Gisselle's going to have some remarkable character changes," I said.

Beau laughed. "Not too quickly, however," he warned. The phone rang and we both looked at it.

"We don't have to answer it," he said.

"It might be Paul. I've got to start sometime; it might as well be immediately, Beau. If I can't pull this off, we'd better know right away."

He nodded and looked apprehensive as I started toward the phone.

"Wait," he said. "If it's one of her friends, I'll know which one." He picked up the receiver. "Hello." He listened. "Yes, she's right here. It's Pauline," he told me, and held out the receiver. "She can be very bitchy," he whispered.

I nodded and took the phone into my trembling fingers. "Hello."

"Gisselle? I called the ranch and they said you had left for New Orleans. I thought you were staying another week. I got Peter to agree to go. I thought we were going to have a party," she whined. "It's just lucky I decided to call first. I might have driven all the way out there for nothing. What happened? Why didn't you call me?" she demanded angrily.

I took a deep breath, recalled how my sister spoke on the phone, and replied. "What happened?" I said. "Only a disaster."

"What?" Pauline exclaimed.

"My sister came to visit and was bitten by mosquitoes," I explained as if it were my sister's fault.

"That's a disaster?"

"She came down with . . . Beau, what was that stupid disease again?"

He smiled at me.

"Encepha something," I said after pretending to listen. "She's in a coma and I had to take the baby home with me."

"Baby?"

"My sister's baby."

"You're taking care of a baby?" she asked, astonished.

"Until I hire someone," I said petulantly.

"Why?"

"Nothing, except I know what you think of children."

"You don't know everything about me, Pauline," I snapped in my best Gisselle tone of voice.

"Excuse me?"

"You're excused."

"I just meant . . ."

"I know what you meant. Look, I don't have time to waste on the phone with stupid gossip right now. I have some major responsibilities."

"I'm sorry I won't bother you."

"Fine. 'Bye," I said, and cradled the receiver.

"That was incredible," Beau said. "For a moment I thought you were Gisselle and I had really taken Ruby back to Cypress Woods."

Even Pearl was looking up at me with an expression of confusion.

I breathed relief. Maybe, I thought, this wouldn't be as hard as I had imagined. In fact, Beau was so impressed with my performance, he decided we should go to one of the fine restaurants he and Gisselle often frequented and let the New Orleans social community learn the story as soon as possible.

Butterflies beat small wings of panic in my stomach. "Beau, should we? Maybe it's too soon."

"Nonsense," he said with confidence. "You settle in, choose something to wear, something Gisselle," he added pointedly, "and I'll take care of some business. Welcome home, darling," he said, kissing me softly on the lips. My heart fluttered as he hurried out and I turned to look at my sister's wardrobe.