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Why was she indulging us so? I continued to wonder, but, like Gisselle, I wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

After our Christmas dinner, Bruce arrived to escort her to the party. He brought gifts for both of us and placed them under the tree.

"It'll take you two hours tomorrow morning to unwrap everything you've been given," he declared, gazing at the pile. I had to admit it was overwhelming.

"Enjoy your evening, Mother," Gisselle said as they started to leave.

"Thank you, dear. You two enjoy yours. And remember, everyone leaves by twelve," she said.

"We'll remember," Gisselle replied, then looked conspiratorially at me. The truth was that there were only two people coming to our house for Christmas Eve: Beau and Gisselle's newest boyfriend, John Darby, a good-looking dark-haired boy whose family had moved to New Orleans just this year. He had been on the football team with Beau.

Before they arrived, Edgar informed me that I had a phone call. I went into the study to take it. It was Paul.

"I was hoping you were home so I could wish you a merry Christmas," he said.

"Merry Christmas to you too, Paul."

"How are things there?"

"Something of a truce has been declared, but I keep expecting my stepmother to pop out of a closet with a whip in her hand."

He laughed. "We have a houseful of people for dinner."

"I bet you have beautiful decorations and a nice tree."

"We do," he said wistfully, "as always, but . . . I wish you were here. Remember our first Christmas together?"

"Of course," I said sadly. "Do you have any friends over, any special friends?"

"Yes," he said, but I could hear the lie. "Anyway," he added quickly, "I just wanted to wish you a quick holiday greeting. I've got to get back. Wish Gisselle a merry Christmas and happy new year for me."

"I will," I said.

"I'll speak to you soon," he promised, and hung up. I wondered if the telephone wires could withstand all of the laughter and tears, the happiness and sadness that would pass through them this night.

"Who was that?" Gisselle demanded from the doorway. "Paul. He wants me to tell you merry Christmas and happy new year."

"That's nice, but why do you have that gloomy look on your face? Wipe it off," Gisselle ordered. She had a bottle of rum in her hands and she smiled, holding it up. "We're going to have a good time tonight."

I stared at her, my twin sister, indulgent, spoiled, capricious, and self-centered, sitting in her unnecessary wheelchair, milking everyone around her of their sympathy and using her false condition to get people to do and give her anythi

ng she wanted. At this moment on Christmas Eve, I saw her as the embodiment of all the evil inclinations in my own heart and imagined I was looking at the darker part of myself, almost like Dr. Jekyll peering into a mirror and seeing Mr. Hyde. And like Dr. Jekyll, I couldn't hate this side of myself as much as I wanted because it was still part of me, part of who I was. I felt trapped, tormented by my longings and dreams. Maybe I was just tired of being who Gisselle said I was: Miss Goody Two-Shoes.

"You're right, Gisselle. We're going to have a good time." She laughed gleefully and we went into the parlor to wait for Beau and John.

Less than half an hour after Beau and John arrived, Gisselle had John take her upstairs to her room and Beau and I were left alone. The house had grown very quiet. Nina had gone to her room, and Edgar and Martha were in their quarters. Only the occasional bong of the grandfather clock in the hallway interrupted the silence.

"I thought and thought for months about your Christmas present," Beau said after we had kissed passionately for a few moments. "What could I give a girl who has everything?"

"I'm hardly the girl who has everything, Beau. True, I live in this luxurious house and I have more clothes than I know what to do with, but . ."

"What do you mean? You have me, don't you?" he asked, laughing. "You promised you were not going to be serious, that we'd relax and have fun, and here you are taking everything I say literally."

"You're right. I'm sorry. What did you buy the girl who has everything?"

"Nothing," he said.

"What?"