"Why, Grandmere? How can they blame you?"
"They just would," she said. "Everybody would. I'll take you myself," she said nodding. "Mrs. Bourdeaux is going and she and I can sit together and watch the young people. Besides, it's been a while since I heard good Cajun music."
"Oh, Grandmere," I moaned. "Girls my age are going with boys; some have been on dates for more than a year already. It's not fair; I'm fifteen. I'm not a baby anymore."
"I didn't say you were, Ruby, but--"
"But you're treating me like one," I cried, and ran up to my room to throw myself on my bed.
Maybe I was worse off living with a
grandmother who was a spiritual treater, who saw evil spirits and danger in every dark shadow, who was always chanting and lighting candles and putting totems on people's doorways. Maybe the Tates just thought we were a crazy family and that was why they wanted Paul to stay away from me.
Why did my mother have to die so young and why did my real father have to desert me? I had a grandfather who lived like an animal in the middle of the swamp and a grandmother who thought I was a small child. My sadness was mixed suddenly with rage. Here I was, fifteen with other girls my age far less pretty than I enjoying themselves on real dates while I was expected to go trailing along with my grandmere to the fais dodo. Never before did I feel like running away as much as I did now.
I heard Grandmere coming up the stairs, her steps heavier than usual. She tapped gently on my door and looked in. I didn't turn around.
"Ruby," she began. "I'm only trying to protect you."
"I don't want you to protect me," I snapped. "I can protect myself. I'm not a baby," I insisted.
"You don't have to be a baby to need
protection," she replied in a tired voice. "Strong grown men often cry for their mothers."
"I don't have a mother!" I shot back, and regretted it as soon as the words left my mouth.
Grandmere's eyes saddened and her shoulders slumped. Suddenly, she looked very old to me. She put her hand on her heart and took a deep breath, nodding.
"I know, child. That's why I try so hard to do what's right for you. I know I can't be your mother, too, but I can do some of what a mother would do. It's not enough; it's never enough, but--"
"I didn't mean to say you don't do enough for me, Grandmere. I'm sorry, but I want to go to the dance with Paul very much. I want to be treated like a young woman and not a child anymore. Didn't you want that when you were my age?" I asked. She stared at me a long moment before sighing.
"All right," she said. "If the Tate boy can take you, you can go with him, but you must promise me you will be home right after the dance."
"I will, Grandmere. I will. Thank you."
She shook her head.
"When you're young," she began, "you don't want to face up to what has to be. Your youth gives you the strength to defy, but defiance doesn't always lead to victory, Ruby. More often than not, it leads to defeat. When you come face-to-face with Fate, don't charge headlong into him. He welcomes that; it feeds him and he's got an insatiable appetite for stubborn, foolish souls."
"I don't understand, Grandmere," I said.
"You will," she told me with that heavy, prophetic tone of hers. "You will." Then she straightened up and sighed again. "I guess I'd better iron your dress," she said.
I wiped the tears from my cheeks and smiled.
"Thank you, Grandmere, but I can do it."
"No, that's all right. I want to keep myself busy," she said, then walked out, her head still hanging lower than usual.
All day Saturday, I debated about my hair. Should I wear it brushed down, tied with a ribbon in the back, or should I wear it up in a French knot? In the end I asked Grandmere to help me put my hair up.
"You have such a pretty face," Grandmere Catherine said. "You should wear your hair back more often. You're going to have a lot of nice boyfriends," she added, more to soothe herself than to please me, I thought. "So remember not to give away your heart too quickly." She took my hand into both of hers and fixed her eyes on me, eyes that looked sad and tired. "Promise?"
"Yes, Grandmere. Grandmere," I said, "are you feeling all right? You've looked very tired all day."
"Just that old ache in the back and my quickened heartbeat now and again. Nothing out of the ordinary," she said.