Pamela Morsi (40 page)

The old priest considered for a long
time.

"That will be your first mathematics problem
at the school, Jakob," he said. "When you can count high enough to
get the number of all your cousins, I will award you a mark."

The little boy was industriously working on
it. But he continued to have trouble with the numbers that began
with twenty.

Aida danced with the new bridegroom, her
brother-in-law, Marchand, Granger, Pierre Babin, and even old man
Breaux. But mostly she danced with her husband, who twirled and
twirled her on the floor, glorying in the pleasure of partnering
her.

Aida was laughing and happy and having a
wonderful time. When she spied Ruby, she motioned the young woman
over to her.

"Ruby, you look lovely tonight," she said.
"And so very very happy. What is it?"

Her friend smiled back. "Oh, you are joking
with me. You must have heard," she said.

"Heard what?" Aida asked.

"I am engaged."

Aida's mouth dropped open in disbelief and
then she squealed with delight and hugged her friend.

"Who? Who is it?" she asked.

"Surely you know?"

"No, I haven't any idea."

"But you must," Ruby insisted. "You invited
me Sunday after Sunday to sit upon your porch. Why else would you
have done that? Surely you planned for me to marry him."

"Who? Placide? Ignace?"

Ruby wrinkled her nose and giggled with
disbelief. "Of course not, silly. I'm to wed Monsieur Gaudet."

"Who?

"Monsieur Gaudet, your father."

"My father?"

"Yes, as soon as he heard you had wed Armand,
he came over to ask me. He said that he had waited so long because
he wanted you safely wed and didn't think it fair to bring another
woman into the house while you still lived there."

"That's why he is so anxious for us to move,"
Aida said to herself.

"You do not mind, do you? I thought you would
be happy for us. That you had planned it for us. But if you—"

Aida hushed her with a kiss.

"I could not be more happy. You and Poppa, I
... I am delighted."

"He is so handsome, do you not think so?"
Ruby gushed. "And such a gentleman. He makes me feel so pretty. He
says that I am the most beautiful woman in his heart. Is that not
lovely? And Maman is so thrilled because he is such a great catch
for me. He is wealthy, the wealthiest man in the parish, you know.
Of course he is much older than I," Ruby admitted, but then leaned
closer to speak more privately. "But when I agreed to wed him,
Aida, he kissed me. And then he did not seem old at all."

It was after much dancing and laughter and
celebration that Laron and Helga boarded their wedding pirogue.
The little boat sported a fresh coat of pine tar and was festooned
with ribbons and berries and prettied up in a manner befitting a
bride.

Once the bride was seated and they pulled
away from shore, the rowdy young men waded into the water,
teasingly threatening to tip them into the river.

As Helga squealed Laron kept them at bay with
his pole until they were out into the river far enough to be
safe.

Aida felt a hand enjoin with hers and glanced
back to find her husband at her side. He gave her a wink and
surreptitiously pulled her away from the crowd. Hand in hand they
ran away from the rollick along the river and into the privacy of
the wooded glade beyond the church.

Alone at last, Armand backed her against a
sturdy cottonwood and kissed her passionately.

"I love you, Aida Sonnier," he said. "I love
you more than anything or anyone in the world."

"Mmm, and I love you, my Armand, my
wonderful, wonderful Armand," she answered.

Their mouths and bodies fit together
perfectly.

Both because they were made that way, and
because of much recent practice. Their kiss was hot and urgent with
pent-up longing.

"I want you, Aida," he whispered. "I don't
think I can wait until we get home."

She giggled against his neck. "Well, it is
almost full dark," she said. "Surely if we are quiet, no one will
find us out."

"I don't know if I can be quiet," he said as
his hands began to roam the geography that he had already learned
so well.

Aida moaned aloud. "I'm not sure I can be
quiet myself," she admitted.

"What the devil do you have on?" Armand asked
suddenly, the timber of his voice rising as he was startled out of
his revelry.

"They are called drawers," Aida answered.
"Helga gave them to me. All the German women wear them and they
have become quite the fashion among the Creoles and the
Americaines, she assures me."

"I don't like them," he said bluntly.

"They are a wonderful invention," Aida said.
"They are warm and pretty and a woman need not live in mortal fear
of every gust of wind that comes her way."

"But Aida, I can't get to you through these,"
he complained.

"Then, Monsieur Sonnier, you will just have
to learn how to take them off."

Jakob watched and waved at the departing
pirogue long after the music and dancing had resumed. His oncle was
now his poppa, which was how he had always dreamed it would be.

Tonight they would spend in the cabin on
Bayou Tortue by themselves. Tomorrow Monsieur Hebert, or rather
Oncle Ozeme, would take him and Elsa and Karl home and they would
live forever with Mama and Poppa. And Jakob's name would not be
Shotz anymore. It would be Boudreau, just like Mama's and Poppa's
and like so many of his cousins.

He squinted to catch the last glimpse of the
prettily festooned boat in the distance, the happy couple within it
so very much in love. He closed his eyes to try to press the sight
upon his memory forever. He succeeded admirably.

Twenty years later he was to recall it with
perfect clarity as he decorated his own pirogue with blooming
hyacinth and real satin ribbons brought all the way from New
Orleans by steam packet. It was right to have it done up so pretty
as his bride, Mademoiselle Sonnier, was extremely so. In fact
people said of his lovely Jeanette that she was the most beautiful
woman on the Vermilion River.