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"You've got to go to Lester's," she whined. "We've been planning this for months, Pearl! Claude expects it. I know how much he's looking forward to it. He told Lester, and Lester told me just so I would tell you."

"I'll go to the party, but I don't know about staying overnight," I said.

"Your parents expect you to stay out all night. It's like Mardi Gras. Don't be a stick-in-the-mud tonight of all nights, Pearl," she warned. "I know what you're worried about," she added. Catherine was the only other person in the world who knew the truth about Claude and me.

"I can't help it," I whispered.

"I don't know what you're so worried about. You know how many times I've done it, and I'm still alive, aren't I?" Catherine said, laughing.

"Catherine . . ."

"It's your night to howl. You deserve it," she said. "We'll have a great time. I promised Lester I would see that you were there."

"We'll see," I said, still noncommittal.

"I swear, Pearl Andreas, you're going to be dragged kicking and screaming into womanhood." She laughed again.

Was this really what made you a woman? I wondered. I knew many of my girlfriends at school felt that way. Some wore their sexual experiences like badges of honor. They had a strut about them, a demeanor of superiority. It was as if they had been to the moon and back and knew so much more about life than the rest of us. Promiscuity had given them a sophistication and filled their eyes with insights about life, and especially about men. Catherine believed this about herself and was often condescending.

"You're book-smart," she always told me, "but not life-smart. Not yet."

Was she right?

Would this be my graduation night in more ways than one?

It was difficult to return to my speech after Catherine and I ended our conversation, but I did. After lunch, Daddy, Mommy, and the twins sat in Daddy's office to listen to me practice my delivery. Jean and Pierre sat on the floor in front of the settee. Jean fidgeted, but Pierre stared up at me and listened intently.

When I was finished, they all clapped. Daddy beamed, and Mommy looked so happy, I nearly burst into tears myself. Graduation was set to begin at four, so I went upstairs to finish doing my hair. Mommy came up and sat with me.

"I'm so nervous, Mommy," I told her. My heart was already thumping.

"You'll do fine, honey."

"It's one thing to deliver my speech to you and Daddy and the twins, but an audience of hundreds! I'm afraid I'll just freeze up."

"Just before you start, look for me," she said. "You won't freeze up. I'll give you Grandmere Catherine's look," she promised.

"I wish I had known Grandmere Catherine," I said with a sigh.

"I wish you had too," she said, and when I gazed at her reflection in the mirror, I saw the deep, far-off look in her eyes.

"Mommy, you said you would tell me things today, things about the past."

She nodded and pulled back her shoulders as if she were getting ready to sit down in th

e dentist's chair.

"What is it you want to know, Pearl?"

"You never really explained why you married your half brother, Paul," I said quickly and lowered my eyes. Very few people knew that Paul Tate was Mommy's half brother.

"Yes, I did. I told you that you and I were alone, living in the bayou, and Paul wanted to protect and take care of us. He built Cypress Woods just for me."

I remembered very little about Cypress Woods. We had never been back since Paul's death and the nasty trial for custody over me that had followed.

"He loved you more than a brother loves a sister?" I asked timidly. Just contemplating them together seemed sinful.

"Yes, and that was the tragedy we couldn't escape."