Southern Ruby (46 page)

‘I've never seen her like this,' said Mae, squinting. ‘She's normally got nerves of steel.'

Maman dispatched Mae to the kitchen to ask Philomena to make some camomile tea for me. Kitty doused a handkerchief in lavender water and placed it on my burning forehead.

‘Good Lord, she needs something stronger than that,' said Helen. She left the room and returned a minute later with a decanter of brandy and a glass. ‘Here, take a sip of this,' she said.

The liquor burned my throat. I coughed and doubled over. It was as if everything was caving inwards and my mind had shattered into a million pieces.

Someone knocked at the door.

‘Is everything all right?' I heard Eddie ask. ‘The priest is here and the guests are starting to whisper.'

‘You'll only make matters worse saying things like that!' Kitty scolded him. ‘Ruby's had a dizzy spell, that's all. She'll be all right in a minute.'

I was in a haze. It was as though I was floating around the room watching myself and thinking,
That can't be me
. It was my wedding day, but I was the saddest I'd ever been.

There was another knock at the door and it opened a crack. ‘May I see her?' I heard Clifford ask.

‘No!' Kitty cried. ‘It's bad luck!'

But Helen acquiesced. ‘Let's give them a few moments together. Nothing we've done has made things any better.'

Maman covered me with a blanket and, along with the other women, reluctantly left the room.

Clifford came and sat next to me. ‘Ruby?'

I turned to him. He looked handsome in his pale grey suit with his hair combed back from his face. Any other woman would have been blissfully happy to be marrying him. I tried to say something but ended up crying harder. He took my hand and rested my palm against his cheek.

‘Ruby, I don't expect you to forget Leroy Thezan. I don't expect you to never speak of him. You loved him. We are going to be husband and wife, and we are going to be best friends and confidants. You can talk to me about him anytime, Ruby. Anytime! But the past is gone and you can't bring it back. Life must be lived now if it is to be lived at all. I know you are strong enough to understand that.'

His words had a calming effect on me. I remembered the day he'd proposed to me at Lake Pontchartrain and how I'd felt so confident then that our marriage would be strong. I looked into his kind eyes and knew that he understood things about me that nobody else did.

I slipped my hand down his shoulder and grasped his fingers in mine. ‘I've kept too much to myself in my life and all the secrets have caught up with me.'

He nodded. ‘We'll have no secrets between us from now on, Ruby. We'll tell each other everything.' He slipped his hand from mine and stood up. ‘Now, go get dressed and come down. I'll be waiting for you. Never mind about anybody else. Just think about me. I'm the one you are marrying.'

His smile gave me confidence. When he'd left the room, I swung my legs to the floor and stood up, still unsteady on my feet. I picked up my purse and took out a key, then opened the wardrobe to find the trunk I had stowed away there. I unlocked it and brushed my hand over the red beaded gown that I'd worn
on stage for one of my Mardi Gras numbers. I picked up the strapless bra and G-string that I had modelled for Leroy.

‘Goodbye, my love,' I whispered. ‘I'm glad we made each other happy. But I have to go on living now. I will never forget you.'

I closed the trunk, and put on my wedding gown and veil, powdered my face and reapplied my lipstick. Then I picked up my bouquet of orchids and opened the door to the hall.

Before leaving the room, I turned back for one more glimpse in the mirror. But it was Ruby in her bridal gown who looked back at me this time. Jewel was gone.

Not long after our honeymoon, I discovered I was pregnant. The excitement in the Lalande house was palpable when Clifford and I told the family one evening after dinner.

‘I'm to become a grandmother!' Helen cried, regarding us fondly. ‘Oh, Ruby, what happiness you bring to our family! You and Clifford will be wonderful parents.'

‘Of course we will,' said Clifford, grinning. ‘We've been given the best examples to follow.'

My gaze shifted to Kitty. She had confided in me only a few days before that she couldn't have children because of a malformation of her womb. Eddie and I were the only ones she had told. I'd wanted to downplay the announcement of my pregnancy, but she wouldn't hear of it. Now, she reached over to me and squeezed my hand. ‘I'm so excited I'm going to be an aunt,' she said sincerely. ‘I want to be known as “Crazy Aunt Kitty”!'

Maman and Mae had come to live with us now that Kitty and Eddie had moved into their own home. After hearing the news, Maman sat lost in a happy dream, her eyes glistening.

‘Maman, are you glad that you are going to be a grandmother?' I asked.

A radiant glow came to her face. ‘Oh, yes, Ruby, I couldn't be happier or prouder.'

Her words should have been a joy to hear, but they stirred an uneasy feeling in me. Perhaps it was because I could never forget that I had a secret past and that if Maman ever found out about it, it would grieve her deeply. No matter what happiness I enjoyed in the present, that secret would always be my cross to bear.

Maman and Helen set about turning one of the upstairs bedrooms into a nursery. Each day they called me up there to see a new detail that had been added: the nursery-rhyme wallpaper and matching curtains; the folding change table with a quilted cover; the bassinette with a skirt decorated with ruffles and flounces made from leftover material from my wedding dress. It should have been the happiest time in my life, yet the uneasiness I'd felt at the announcement of my pregnancy continued to plague me.

One morning I woke up convinced that the baby had died in my womb overnight.

‘Clifford,' I cried, shaking him awake. ‘The baby's not moving. I can't feel it!'

Clifford sat up, a distressed look on his face. He pressed his ear to my stomach. ‘Darling, I'm sure there is a little flutter in there. But I'll take you to Doctor Monfort this morning anyway.'

Our family doctor was quick to reassure me. ‘It's natural that you are anxious with your first baby, but all is well and your pregnancy is progressing normally.'

Despite his assurances, from that day onwards a cold fear dampened my joy. I was haunted by the possibility of losing my child. Anytime the baby was quiet for a long period of time, I
panicked. A repetitive nightmare disturbed my dreams: I was walking towards the baby's bassinette, but when I looked inside it there was Leroy's mangled body.

Doctor Monfort could do little to help my nerves, and Clifford enlisted the aid of an Uptown obstetrician, Doctor Delcambre, who specialised in high risk pregnancies and was the brother of one of the white lawyers he'd worked with in the Urban League.

‘Maman,' I said one afternoon when we were in the sitting room together knitting booties, ‘I hope you don't mind that I won't be having the baby at home with Doctor Monfort. I know you would like that, but Doctor Delcambre feels it best that I go to his private clinic ahead of my confinement.'

Maman put down her knitting and slipped her hand into mine. ‘My darling, the most important consideration is you and the baby. That's all. Nothing else matters.'

Helen gave me a book about an abolitionist named Dale Thomas Owen to take my mind off my worries. I read it religiously in bed every night before going to sleep.

One night, when Clifford was getting into bed beside me, he glanced at the book. ‘Is it interesting?'

I nodded. ‘Dale Thomas Owen reminds me of you. Despite all the setbacks he suffered, including being shunned by his social circle and threatened by those who were making money out of the misery of slavery, he never let fear or loneliness sway him from his cause.'

He took the book from me. ‘Dale is a good name for a boy, don't you think? It sounds fresh and new. If the baby is a boy, I want him to be fearless, brave and confident. The world needs men with characteristics like that.'

Our eyes met and we smiled.

‘I want him to be like that too,' I said. ‘That's exactly the kind of man I would want him to grow up to be. Someone like you.'

On the day I went into labour, I barely registered the pain in my body because the racking anguish in my mind was so great. All I could think about was the child. Was he or she alive?

It was only after several excruciating pushes, when I heard a cry sing out from a healthy set of lungs and the nurse showed me a rosy baby boy, that the darkness I'd felt during my pregnancy lifted and I cried with joy.

‘He's so handsome,' I said. ‘So very handsome. My darling baby boy!'

Indeed to me, Dale was the most charming child ever born. From the time we took him home, I couldn't stop looking at him. Even when he didn't need to be fed, I'd go to his bassinette to gaze at him. He had a full head of curls, and followed my every movement with his big curious eyes.

If I was enamoured, then Clifford was smitten. When I saw him cradle Dale in his arms and coo to him softly, I fell in love with my husband and knew I had been right to marry him, despite all the grief that had besieged me at the time.

Dale seemed equally captivated by Clifford. When his father danced around him, making monkey faces, Dale would point at him and gurgle with delight.

‘I can't wait until he can ride a bike,' said Clifford one evening as we were having supper. ‘I'll take him riding in Audubon Park.'

I looked over my teacup at him. ‘He hasn't started walking yet . . . and you might have some competition from our mothers. I hardly get to see Dale now the weather is warming. His grandmothers make several trips a day around the neighbourhood with him in his pram simply to show him off.'

‘All right,' Clifford said, picking up our dishes to take them to the kitchen, ‘I'll try to be patient. But let's not wait too long before we have another one. I like being a father and motherhood becomes you.'

S
hortly after Dale's third birthday, I discovered that I was pregnant again. I waited until the following day to tell Clifford the news. He was a morning person and I wasn't, but I made an effort to get up early so we could spend some time together before he left for his office. I watched him pour maple syrup over his waffles, and admired his freshly shaven face and neatly combed hair. From the back porch came the clackety-clack sound of Helen at her typewriter, writing articles for the Urban League newsletter, and the smell of smoke from her cigarette. I'd asked Mae and Philomena to mind Dale in the kitchen because I had something important to discuss with my husband.

As I looked at Clifford, I was filled with a triumphant joy. It had taken longer than anticipated for me to get pregnant again and I knew my announcement would make him happy. A rush of excitement ran through me and suddenly the words came bubbling out as if I could no longer contain them. ‘Darling, I'm expecting!'

Clifford looked up, his fork paused mid-air. He stared at me with an expression of awe before a smile broke out over his face. ‘Ruby! Really?' He sprang up from his chair and embraced me. ‘How long have you known?'

‘Doctor Delcambre confirmed it yesterday afternoon, but you looked tired last night so I decided to wait and tell you this morning.'

‘Oh, Ruby! This is such good news!' he said, squeezing me harder. ‘I should have guessed it. You've been glowing.'

‘What would you like?' I asked him. ‘Another boy or a girl?'

He shook his head. ‘I don't care. Either is great as far as I'm concerned. When do you want to tell the others?'

It seemed strange to me, looking back on it, how I noticed at that precise moment that the sound of the typewriter had ceased. Then I heard Mae scream. The grin slipped from Clifford's face.

My first thought was that Dale had fallen from his chair. I leaped up and rushed to the kitchen. The maids weren't there but my little boy was sitting securely at the table with jam on his cheeks and a bewildered expression in his eyes. Why had they left him by himself? It wasn't like Mae or Philomena to be so careless.

Through the open door I could see Mae standing on the back porch with her hand over her mouth. Philomena was calling for Clifford to come. He ran past me and out to the porch. ‘Mother!' he shouted.

I followed and my heart stopped when I saw Helen lying on the porch floor cradled in Philomena's arms. Her eyelids were flickering and a trickle of blood seeped from her mouth. Had she fallen and hit her head? She was mumbling, struggling to tell Clifford something. Whatever was happening, she was in pain and that snapped me back to attention.

‘Call an ambulance!' I told Mae. ‘Then go get Maman and ask her to look after Dale.'

The ambulance arrived, and Clifford and I followed it in the car to the hospital. Eddie and Kitty arrived soon after.

The doctor came out with a grave look on his face and ushered us into a private room. I heard Kitty gasp, ‘Oh no!' as he shut the door behind us.

‘I'm very sorry. Mrs Lalande passed away a few minutes ago,' he told us. ‘It appears she suffered a sudden and devastating stroke.'

I grasped Clifford's hand. His face had turned ashen. It was hard to believe that he'd been looking radiantly happy only a short time before.

I placed my other hand on my stomach, sorry that the announcement of my pregnancy would forever be associated with that terrible day.

The loss of his mother was a terrible blow to Clifford. I tried to help him the way he had helped me grieve for Leroy — with patience, respect and unconditional love — but I felt helpless before the world-weary eyes that had once shone and the grim line of his mouth that had replaced his ever-ready smile.

Maman, too, keenly felt the loss of her friend. She put Helen's picture on a shelf in her room and collected fresh flowers every day from the garden to place in a vase next to it.

Kitty and Eddie joined us each evening for dinner, looking for solace in family. It seemed inconceivable that the matriarch of the house, always so energetic and vital, was no longer there to play a part in our lives. How could she have died so suddenly when she still had so much life ahead of her? Her empty chair and table on the back porch filled me with sadness and I asked Ned to move them to the attic. We never used the porch again after that.

One day as Maman and I walked in the garden, she said,
‘The house is so quiet without Helen. It will be good when the little one arrives. What we need is some noise!'

I squeezed her arm, grateful for her encouragement. But the truth was, the happiness my pregnancy had brought had been so fleeting it felt like a mere drop in an ocean of grief.

In the end, it was Dale who brought us solace.

Clifford and I were dressing for breakfast one morning when we heard the music to ‘When the Saints Go Marching In' playing downstairs. At first I thought Mae or Philomena had turned the radio on early. Then we realised the sound was coming from the music room. Someone was playing the piano. But who?

We went downstairs to investigate and to our surprise found Dale, still in his pyjamas, sitting on the stool and moving his hands over the keys. I gasped. He wasn't picking at the keyboard as if the instrument was a toy. His face was scrunched with intense concentration and his tiny hands moved nimbly. The early morning sunshine bathed him in a soft light that gave him a halo. He looked like an angel sweetening the air with music.

‘Good Lord,' I whispered to Clifford, ‘I can't play as well as that and I've had lessons.'

‘It's no surprise that our son is gifted,' he replied. ‘There's an old soul behind those bright-as-a-button eyes.'

When I told Maman what had happened, she showed Dale some easy classical pieces and he picked them up straight away.

‘My grandson barely talks,' she told me proudly, ‘but he can play Bach!'

Clifford consulted with a music professor at Tulane University, who advised us to wait until Dale was five before giving him formal lessons, but to expose him to all types of music in the meantime and let him explore the keyboard himself.

The exercise became an enjoyable diversion for us all. Maman would sit with him at the piano for an hour a day, playing simple duets, while Clifford and I took him to concerts and to see street parades.

One Sunday, when we were in City Park listening to a Dixieland band, I was momentarily distracted by an ice cream vendor. I asked Clifford for some change, and it was only when I went to pass the ice cream cone to Dale that I realised I'd let go of his hand.

‘No!' I cried, frantically looking around.

To my great surprise, I saw Dale mounting the stairs to the stage. Clifford quickly grabbed him, kissed him on the cheek so he wouldn't cry, and brought him back to me.

‘He definitely favours jazz,' he said, laughing.

‘Of course he does,' I replied. ‘After all, he was born in the month of Mardi Gras. He heard all the street bands while still in my womb!'

Shortly after the day in City Park, Maman and Dale were having a piano lesson together when Maman stumbled as she got up from the stool. I thought she must have tripped on the skirt of her dress and felt around her ankle to make sure she hadn't sprained it. When I looked up at her, I could see she was distressed but trying not to show it.

‘What's the matter, Maman?' I asked. ‘Do your feet hurt?'

She shook her head bravely. ‘They feel a little numb.'

‘Since when? Did you tell Doctor Monfort?'

‘It's nothing,' she said, looking away. ‘I'm just getting old.'

‘Maman, you're hardly old!'

Doctor Monfort dropped the bombshell when he came to see me after carrying out some tests on Maman.

‘There's protein in her urine,' he said with a pained expression. ‘That means her kidneys are beginning to fail.'

My heart splintered at his words. ‘Is there a medication or a treatment?'

Doctor Monfort grimaced. ‘I'm afraid it's irreversible. I will give her some medicines for now, but as the kidneys worsen the only thing that will keep her going is dialysis at the hospital. But that is an ordeal and will only hold off the inevitable for a while. I'd recommend you let nature take its course. She could go on for another six months, or maybe even another six years. Only God knows. Make the most of the time you have left together.'

‘Does she know about her kidneys?' I asked.

He nodded. ‘She took it well, Ruby — although I didn't elaborate too much on how much time she might have left.' Placing his hand on my shoulder he added, ‘You have looked after your mother devotedly. I was amazed that she recovered from having her lung removed, and that's a credit to you. Her disease is like water. You and I have done everything we can to hold it back, but eventually the water will wear down the rock and something will give. It looks like her kidneys have taken the brunt.'

After Doctor Monfort left, I sank down on a chair in the parlour and rested my head in my hands. How could I lose Maman when another child was coming along? I needed her. She was everything to me.

I became aware of someone else in the room and looked up to see Mae. Her eyes were glistening with tears and her lips were trembling.

‘You heard what Doctor Monfort said?' I asked.

She nodded and sniffed. ‘It ain't right,' she whispered. ‘It ain't right. God takes the good ones too early.'

I stood up and clasped her hands. ‘It's to your credit, Mae, that Maman has lived this long. It's you who has been watching her diet, monitoring her sugar levels and administering her medicines. You're the one who's slept with one eye open and checked on her several times each night to make sure she's breathing. I owe you everything, Mae. I owe Maman's life to you.'

Mae cried harder and I could no longer hold back my own tears.

‘You give yourself credit too, Mrs Ruby,' she said, gripping my hands tighter. ‘You created a good life for your mama. You've given her a wonderful home and a lot of happiness, and you worked hard for it. If it wasn't for you, we'd have all ended up in the street.'

I hugged her, my heart filled with both sorrow and gratitude. She had always been there for me and I knew that whatever happened in the future I would always take care of her.

After I'd composed myself, I went to see Maman. She was sitting in the armchair in her room and gazing out of the window. Her feet were propped up on an ottoman. She looked serene, not at all like someone who had been given a death sentence. Perhaps Doctor Monfort had been wrong. As he'd said, after Maman's lung was removed he was surprised that she had survived. Maybe she would defy the odds again.

She smiled at me and showed me a picture from the sewing magazine she had on her lap. ‘Look at this beautiful baby quilt,' she said, her cheeks glowing. ‘The kittens and puppies on it are just darling. I bet I'll have time to finish one like it before your little one is born.'

My heart felt like it had been tied into knots, but I smiled and sat down beside her. ‘That is the most adorable quilt I've ever seen. Tell me what you need and I'll ask Mae to go get it for you.'

She took my hand. I could see she wanted to say something about her illness, and I did too, but we were both too full for words. So we simply sat together and talked about what colours would be best for the quilt like nothing bad was happening at all.

Clifford stayed up with me all night as I poured out my grief and fears to him. ‘Oh, God, I hope she won't suffer,' I told him. ‘If she suffers, I don't think I could bear it.'

He held me and kissed my forehead. ‘Ruby, you are going to have to calm yourself for the sake of the baby. It won't do the little one any good for you to wring yourself out like this. Take it one day at a time. Enjoy your mother while she is still here. You know the people we love can leave us at any time without warning.'