Ruby by V. C. Andrews Read Free Book Online Page A

said. "As long as I was with you, Ruby."
"Is your family going to church in the morning?" He nodded. "Are you still coming to dinner tomorrow night?"
"Of course."
I smiled and we kissed once more before I turned and climbed the steps to the front galerie. Paul waited until I walked in and then he went to his scooter and drove away. The moment Grandmere Catherine turned to greet me, I knew she had heard about Grandpere Jack. One of her good friends couldn't wait to bring her the news first, I was sure.
"Why didn't you just let the police cart him off to jail? That's where he belongs, making a spectacle of himself in front of good folks with all those children in town, too," she said, wagging her head. "What did you and Paul do with him?"
"We took him back to his shack, Grandmere, and if you saw how it was . ."
"I don't have to see it. I know what a pigsty looks like," she said, returning to her biscuits.
"He called me Gabrielle when he first set eyes on me," I said.
"Doesn't surprise me none. He probably forgot his own name, too."
"At the shack, he mumbled a lot."
"Oh?" She turned back to me.
"He said something about someone being in love and what was the difference about the money. What does all that mean, Grandmere?"
She turned away again. I didn't like the way her eyes skipped guiltily away when I tried to catch them. I knew in my heart she was hiding something.
"I wouldn't know how to begin to untangle the mess of words that drunken mind produces. It would be easier to unravel a spiderweb without tearing it," she said.
"Who was in love, Grandmere? Did he mean my mother?"
She was silent.
"Did he gamble away her money, your money?" I pursued.
"Stop trying to make sense out of something stupid, Ruby. It's late. You should go to bed. We're going to early Mass, and I must tell you, I'm not happy about you and Paul carting that man into the swamp. The swamp is no place for you. It's beautiful from a distance, but it's the devil's lair, too, and wrought with dangers you can't even begin to imagine. I'm disappointed in Paul for taking you there," she concluded.
"Oh, no, Grandmere. Paul didn't want me to go along. He wanted to do it himself, but I insisted."
"Still, he shouldn't have done it," she said, and turned to me, her eyes dark. "You shouldn't be spending all your time with one boy like this. You're too young."
"I'm fifteen, Grandmere. Some fifteen-year-old Cajun girls are already married, some with children."
"Well, that's not going to happen to you. You're going to do better, be better," she said angrily.
"Yes, Grandmere. I'm sorry. We didn't mean. . ."
"All right," she said. "It's over and done with. Let's not ruin an otherwise special day by talking about your Grandpere anymore. Go to sleep, Ruby. Go on," she ordered. "After church, you're going to help me prepare our Sunday dinner. We've got a guest, don't we?" she asked, her eyes full of skepticism.
"Yes, Grandmere. He's coming."
I left her, my mind in a spin. The day had been filled with so many good things and so many bad. Maybe Grandmere Catherine was right; maybe it was better not to try to fathom the dark things. They had a way of polluting the clear waters, spoiling the fresh and the wonderful bright things. It was better to dwell on the happy events.
It was better to think about my paintings hanging in a New Orleans gallery . . . to remember the touch of Paul's lips on mine and the way he made my body sing. . . to dream about a perfect future with me painting in my own art studio in our big house on the bayou. Surely the good things had a way of
outweighing the bad, otherwise we would all be like Grandpere Jack, lost in a swamp of our own making, not only trying to forget the past, but trying to forget the future as well.
    3
I Wish We Were
a Family
.
In the morning Grandmere Catherine and I put
    on our Sunday clothes. I brushed my hair and tied it up with a crimson ribbon and she and I set out for church, Grandmere carrying her gift for Father Rush, a box of her