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Paul talked about his oil fields and some of his other ideas for business. He told me he had made reservations for us in New Orleans and we would be going the day after tomorrow.
"So soon?"
"No sense in postponing what has to be done here. And remember, I want you at your art," he said.
Yes, I thought, it was time to return to my second great love--painting. After dinner, Paul and I wandered through the great house and discussed what we would do to complete the furnishing and the decorations. I finally realized how big a task it was going to be and wondered aloud if I was capable of doing it.
"Of course you are," he assured me. "But maybe I can get Mother to help. She loves doing this sort of thing," he said. "You can learn a lot from my mother," he added. "She's a woman of refined taste. Not that you aren't," he added quickly. "It's just that she's been buying expensive things longer than you have," he said, smiling.
"How rich are we, Paul?" I asked. Was there no end to the possibilities?
He smiled. "With the price of oil rising and the wells producing four to five hundred percent more than predicted . . we're millionaires many times over, Ruby. Your rich stepmother and your twin sister are paupers next to us."
"Don't let them know it," I said, "or they'll be heartbroken."
Paul laughed. I confessed to being tired. Exhausted was more like it. It had been a rollercoaster day emotionally, one moment full of depression and sadness and the next moment taken to the height of happiness. I went upstairs and prepared for my first night in my beautiful new home. Once again, Paul surprised me. I found a pretty nightgown, robe, and slippers laid out on my bed. Holly had been in on the surprise. When I thanked Paul, he pretended he didn't know a thing about it.
"Must be your fairy godmother," he said.
I looked in on Pearl. She slept so contentedly in her pretty new crib. I leaned in and kissed her on the forehead and then I returned to my own bedroom and slipped into my own large bed with its fluffy pillows and soft mattress.
The overcast and rain had moved southeast and the cloud cover had broken up to permit some moonlight to fall over our great house and spill through my windows. I lay there, comfortable, but still full of trepidation about all our tomorrows. Then I heard a gentle knock on the adjoining door.
"Yes?"
Paul opened it and looked in. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, Paul. Fine."
"Comfortable?" he asked, remaining in the doorway, silhouetted.
"Very."
"May I kiss you good night?" he asked in a small voice. I was quiet a moment.
"Yes," I said.
He approached, leaned over, and pressed his lips to my cheek. I thought that would be it, but he moved toward my lips, so I turned away. I could feel his disappointment. He lingered inches from me and then straightened up.
"Good night, Ruby. I love you," he said. "As much as any other man could," he added.
"I know, Paul. Good night."
"Good night," he said, his voice soft and small, like the voice of a little boy again.
He closed the door between us and a cloud closed the gap that had permitted the moonlight a window on my new world. For a while the darkness was thick and deep again.
However, although they were on the other side of the house and some distance away, the oil pumps could be heard delving into the bowels of the earth to draw up the black liquid that would ensure our future and build walls of riches around us, keeping out the demons. Paul had created a moat of oil between us and the hardships that marred so much of the world beyond.
I could cuddle in my luxurious comforter and I could close my eyes and put aside my own fears and think only of the wonderful things to do. I could dream of Pearl as a little girl with her own pony. I could dream of lawn parties and birthday parties and grand dinners. I could dream of my studio bright and full of new works.
What else should I wish for? I thought.
Wish for love, a tiny little voice whispered. Wish for love.
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Another New Family
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