"But it looks just like me, Grandmere. Here," I said, putting the picture of me at about seven years old next to the one of Pierre and the little girl. -See."
Grandmere nodded.
"Yes, it'
s your face," she said, looking at the two, "but it's not you."
"Then who is it, Grandmere, and who is this man in the picture?"
She hesitated. I tried to wait patiently, but the butterflies in my stomach were flying around my heart, tickling it with their wings. I held my breath.
"I wasn't thinking when I sent you up to put the money in my chest," she began, "but maybe it was Providence's way of letting me know it's time."
"Time for what, Grandmere?"
"For you to know everything," she said, and sat back as if she had been struck, the now all too familiar exhaustion settling into her face again. "To know why I drove your grandpere out and into the swamp to live like the animal he is." She closed her eyes and muttered under her breath, but my patience ran out.
"Who is the little girl if it's not me,
Grandmere?" I demanded. Grandmere fixed her eyes on me, the crimson in her cheeks replaced by a paleness the color of oatmeal.
"It's your sister," she said.
"My sister!"
She nodded. She closed her eyes and kept them closed so long, I thought she wouldn't continue.
"And the man holding her hand . . ." she finally added. She didn't have to say it. The words were already settling in my mind. ". . is your real father."
6
Room in My Heart
.
"If you knew who my father was all this time,
Grandmere, why didn't you tell me? Where does he live? How did I get a sister? Why did it have to be kept such a secret, and why did this drive Grandpere into the swamp to live?" I fired my questions, one after the other, my voice impatient.
Grandmere Catherine closed her eyes. I knew it was her way to gather strength. It was as if she could reach into a second self and draw out the energy that made her the healer she was to the Cajun people in Terrebonne Parish.
My heart was thumping, a slow, heavy whacking in my chest that made me dizzy. The world around us seemed to grow very still. It was as if every owl, every insect, even the breeze was holding its breath in anticipation. After a moment Grandmere Catherine opened her dark eyes, eyes that were now shadowed and sad, and fixed them on me firmly as she shook her head ever so gently. I thought she released a soft moan before she began.
"I've dreaded this day for so long," Grandmere said, "dreaded it because once you've heard it all, you will know just how deeply into the depths of hell and damnation your grandpere has gone. I've dreaded it because once you've heard it all you will know how much more tragic than you ever dreamed was your mother's short life, and I've dreaded it because once you've heard it all, you will know how much of your life, your family, your history, I have kept hidden from you.
"Please don't blame me for it, Ruby," she pleaded. "I have tried to be more than your
grandmere. I have tried to do what I thought was best for you.
"But at the same time," she continued, gazing down at her hands in her lap for a moment, "I must confess I have been somewhat selfish, too, for I wanted to keep you with me, wanted to keep something of my poor lost daughter beside me." She gazed up at me again. "If I have sinned, God forgive me, for my intentions were not evil and I did try to do the best I could for you, even though I admit, you would have had a much richer, much more comfortable life, if I had given you up the day you were born."
She sat back and sighed again as if a great weight had begun to be lifted from her shoulders and off her heart. "Grandmere, no matter what you've done, no matter what you tell me, I will always love you just as I always have loved you," I assured her.
She smiled softly and then grew thoughtful and serious again.
"The truth is, Ruby, I couldn't have gone on; I would never have had the strength, even the spiritual strength I was born to have, if you hadn't been with me all these years. You have been my salvation and my hope, as you still are. However, now that I'm drawing closer and closer to the end of my days here, you must leave the bayou and go where you belong."
"Where do I belong, Grandmere?"