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"I never thought of you as an enemy. I just. . ."

"Hated me. Go on, you can say it now. It doesn't hurt for me to hear it now, now that I have suffered through it," I said and smiled through my tears.

"Ruby," Paul said, shaking his head, "I can't believe what you're telling me; I can't believe that my father. . . that your mother . ."

"You're old enough now to know the truth, Paul. Maybe I'm being selfish by telling it to you. Grandmere Catherine warned me not to, warned me that you would eventually hate me for causing any rift in your family, but I can't stand the lies between us anymore, and especially now, on top of my losing her and my realization that I'm all alone."

Paul stared at me a moment and then he got up and walked down to the edge of the water. I watched him just stand there, kicking some stones into the water, thinking, realizing, coming to terms with what I had told him. I knew that the same sort of tumult that was going on in his heart had gone on in mine, and the same sort of confusion was whirling around in his head. He shook his head again, more vigorously this time, and turned back to me.

"We have all these photographs, pictures of my mother when she was pregnant with me, pictures of me right after I was born, and--"

"Lies," I said. "All pretend, deceptions to hide the sinful acts."

"No, you're wrong. It's all a terrible, stupid mistake, don't you see?" he said, folding his hands into fists. "And we're being made to suffer for it. I'm sure it can't be true." He nodded, convincing himself. "I'm sure," he said, walking back to me.

"Grandmere Catherine wouldn't lie to me, Paul."

"No, your Grandmere wouldn't lie to you, but maybe she thought by telling you this story, she could keep you from getting involved with me and that was good because my family would make such a stink and you and I would suffer. Sure, that's it," he said, comfortable with the theory. "I'll prove it to you. I don't know how I will right now, but I will and then . . . then we'll be together just as we dreamed we would."

"Oh, Paul, how I wish you were right," I said.

"I am," he said confidently. "You'll see. I'll get beat up over you at another fais dodo yet," he added, laughing. I smiled but turned away.

"What about Suzzette?" I asked.

"I don't love Suzzette. I never did. I just had to have someone to. . . to . . ."

"To make me jealous?" I asked, turning back quickly.

"Yes," he confessed.

"I don't blame you for doing that, only you did it very convincingly," I said, smiling.

"Well, I'm . . good at it."

We laughed. Then I grew serious again and reached up for his hand. He helped me stand. We were inches apart, facing each other.

"I don't want you to be hurt, Paul. Don't put too much hope in your disproving the things Grandmere Catherine told me. Promise me that when you find out the truth . . ."

"I won't find out the lie," he insisted.

"Promise me," I pursued, "promise that if you find out that what Grandmere told me is true, you will accept it as I have and go on to love someone else as much. Promise me."

"I can't," he said. "I can't love anyone else as much as I love you, Ruby. It's not possible."

He embraced me and I buried my face in his shoulder for a moment. He drew me closer. Beneath his shirt, I could feel his steady heartbeat. Then I felt his lips on my hair and I closed my eyes and dreamed we were far away, living in a world where there were no lies and deceit, where it was always spring and where the sunshine touched your heart as well as your face and made you forever young.

The screech of a marsh hawk made me lift my head quickly. I saw it seize a smaller bird, one that might have just learned how to fly, and then go off with its prize, unconcerned that it left some mother bird destroyed, too.

"Sometimes I hate it here," I said quickly. "Sometimes, I feel like I don't belong."

Paul looked at me with surprise.

"Of course you belong here," he said. It was on the tip of my tongue to fell him the rest of it, to tell him about my twin sister and my real father who lived in a big house somewhere in New Orleans, but I shut the lid on the truth. Enough had been revealed for one day.

"I'd better get back inside and continue to greet the people," I said, starting toward the house.

"I'll come with you and stay with you as long as I can," he said. "My parents sent over some food. I gave it to Mrs. Livaudis. They send their regards. They would have come themselves but . ."