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Hopefully, I wouldn't have to trouble either.

I heard Daphne's footsteps on the stairway and

gazed up. She wore a flowing black skirt, a white

velvet blouse, low black heels and a string of real

pearls. Her blue eyes glistened and her smile spread to

show even white teeth. She carried herself so

elegantly.

"There are few things I like to do better than

shop," she declared. She kissed my father on the

cheek.

"Nothing makes me happier than seeing you

and Gisselle happy, Daphne," he told her. "And now, I

can add Ruby."

"Go to work, darling. Earn money. I'm going to

show your new daughter how to spend it," she

retorted.

"And you won't find a better teacher when it

comes to that," he quipped. He opened the door for us

and we went out.

I still felt this was all too good to be true and that any moment I would wake up in my little room in the bayou. I pinched myself and was happy to feel the tiny sting that assured me it was all real.

13

I Can't Be You

.

I felt as if I were caught in a whirlwind because

of the way my new stepmother went about taking me shopping. As soon as we were finished in one boutique, Daphne whisked me out the door to go to another or to a department store. Whenever she decided something looked nice on me or looked appropriate, she ordered it packed immediately, sometimes buying two, three, and four of the same blouse, the same skirt, even the same pair of shoes, but in different colors. The trunk and the backseat of the car quickly filled up. Each purchase took my breath away and she didn't seem at all concerned about the prices.

Everywhere we went, the salespeople appeared to know Daphne and respect her, We were treated like royalty, some clerks throwing aside anything they were doing the instant Daphne and I marched into their stores. Most assumed I was Gisselle and Daphne did not bother to explain.

"It's not important what these people do and don't know," she told me when a saleslady called me Gisselle. "When they call you Gisselle, just go along for now. The people who matter will be told everything quickly."

Although Daphne didn't have much respect for the sales people, I noticed how careful they were when they made suggestions, and how concerned they were that Daphne might not approve. As soon as Daphne settled on a color or a style, all of them nodded and agreed immediately, complimenting her in chorus on the choices she had made for me.

She did seem very informed. She knew the latest styles, the designers by name, and the garments that had been featured in fashion magazines, knowing things about clothes that even the salespeople and store owners didn't know yet themselves. Being chic and up-to-date was obviously a high priority for my stepmother, who became upset if the salesperson brought colors that didn't coordinate perfectly or if a sleeve or hem was wrongly cut. Most of the time between stores and traveling in the car, she lectured to me about style, the importance of appearance, and being sure everything I wore matched and

coordinated.