"I didn't get much chance to be with my own granddaughter when she was this small," she remarked. "My daughter lives in England, you know. We write to each other a lot and I go there once a year, but . . ."
"Why didn't you move there with her?" I asked. It was a very personal q
uestion, and perhaps I shouldn't have asked it so directly, but I felt I had to know as much as I could about the woman who would be with Pearl almost as much as, if not more than, I would be.
Mrs. Flemming's eyes darkened.
"Oh, she has her own life now," she said. "I didn't want to interfere." Then she added, "Her husband's mother lives with them."
She didn't have to explain any more. As Grandmere Catherine would say, "Keeping two grandmeres under the same roof peacefully is like trying to keep an alligator in the bathtub."
"Where are you living now?" Paul asked.
"I'm just in a rooming house."
He looked at me, while Mrs. Flemming played with Pearl's tiny fingers.
"Well, I don't see any reason why you shouldn't move right in, then," I said. "If the arrangements are satisfactory for you," I added.
She looked up and brightened immediately.
"Oh yes, dear. Yes. Thank you."
"I'll have one of my men take you back to the rooming house and wait for you to get your things together," Paul said.
"First let me show you where you will sleep, Mrs. Flemming," I said, pointedly eyeing Paul. He was doing it again, moving along so fast, I could barely catch my breath. "Your room adjoins the nursery."
Pearl didn't complain when Mrs. Flemming carried her out and up to her room. I kept feeling there was almost something spiritual about the way the two of them took so quickly to each other, and sure enough, I discovered Mrs. Flemming was left-handed. To Cajuns that meant she could have spiritual powers. Perhaps hers were more subtle, the powers of love, rather than the powers of healing.
"Well?" Paul asked after Mrs. Flemming had left with one of his men to get her things.
"She does seem perfect, Paul."
"Then you won't be upset leaving her here with Pearl?" he followed. "We'll be away only a day or two." I hesitated and he laughed. "It's all right. I've come up with the solution. I have to be reminded from time to time how rich I really am. We really are, I should say."
"What do you mean?"
"We'll just take Pearl along, reserve an adjoining room with a crib," he said. "Why should I care what it costs, as long as it makes you happy?"
"Oh, Paul," I cried. It did seem like his newfound wealth could solve every problem. I threw my arms around him and kissed him on the cheek. His eyes widened with happy surprise. As if I had crossed a forbidden boundary, I pulled back. For a moment my happiness and excitement had overwhelmed me. A strange look of reflection came into his blue eyes.
"It's all right, Ruby," he said quickly. "We can love each other purely, honestly. We're only half brother and sister, you know. There's the other half."
"That's the half that worries me," I confessed softly.
"I just want you to know," he said, taking my hands into his, "that your happiness is all I live for." His face became dark and serious as we just stared into each other's faces.
"I know, Paul," I finally said. "And that frightens me sometimes."
"Why?" he asked with surprise.
"It's . . it just does," I said.
"All right. Let's not have any sad talk. We have to pack and plan. I have to go make some
arrangements with the oil drill foreman and then go back to the cannery for a few hours. In the meantime, draw up your shopping list and don't spare a thing," he said. "My family will be here about six-thirty," he added, and left.
I had forgotten about that. Facing Paul's mother was something I dreaded. It started my heart tripping with anxiety. Despite the promise I had made to Paul's father, I wasn't good at looking someone in the face and ignoring the truth. My twin sister, Gisselle, was the expert when it came to that, not me. Somehow, though, I had to do it.