“Your portrait will be here forever,” I said as my eyes focused on the image of Marthe captured in the gilded frame. In the sideways glance of young Marthe, her image seemed omnipresent, as if Boldini had painted her knowing this. He had, in fact, made her immortal.
“Yes, the painting.” She let out another small laugh, and now she, too, focused her gaze at herself captured on the canvas.
“Will I always remain above that mantel... even for years to come?” She turned toward me, almost as if asking me to seal some sort of promise.
I stole one last look at the portrait and then at Marthe. “Well, if it’s within my power. I will do everything to keep it that way.”
“It is a wonderful thing to be able to believe in another person’s word, and I certainly trust you,” she confided. Her eyes closed for a moment and a sense of peace washed over her face. “I am so grateful for that...”
“Of course,” I said, hoping to reassure her.
“I made mistakes with your father, I realize that. But I don’t think I would have been a good mother even if I had kept him.” She took a small breath. “Sometimes life gives us a second chance to redeem ourselves.”
“Yes,” I agreed, “I would like to believe it does.”
“And who would have ever thought I’d have a third role in mylifetime. ‘Grand-maman.’ I wonder if Charles and Boldini would say my new title suits me?”
I smiled. “I think they’d both say you wear it regally, as you do everything.”
“Thank you, my dear,” she said, the last word catching in the reverberations of her cough.
“To think now, I’m ending my evening with a glass of water instead of wine or champagne... Indeed, Solange, I’m getting old!”
“Well, I must be as well, as I’m off to bed now, and it’s only nine thirty,” I said, getting up from my chair.
“Beauty sleep is very important... Especially if a young woman is intending to meet a gentleman the next morning.”
Had I told my grandmother about Alex? I didn’t believe I had.
“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.” I was trying to see if she’d reveal her hand.
“Oh, Solange,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m an expert on these things.” She laughed.
“I could fill an entire notebook of yours on how I am able to read all the signs concerning love.”
38.
Solange
March 1940
Marthe had read me correctly. I had made a date with Alex to meet him at his father’s store the next day. That morning, I dressed deliberately, inspired by Marthe to make myself look as fetching as possible. I reached for my red dress, instead of my blue one, and fastened a belt around my waist. In the mirror, I pinched my cheeks and applied a little lipstick. Having spent so much time with Marthe, I now understood just how much color could communicate. I gave myself one final glance in the mirror and decided something was still missing. Searching through my drawer, I found a navy scarf edged in white piping. I knotted it around my neck and suddenly felt infinitely more elegant. Only then did I reach for my coat, hat, and gloves.
On the Métro, every person appeared buried in a different newspaper:Le Monde. Le Figaro. Le Temps. Each man hid his head behind one like a fan.
Women held the hands of children, their eyes averted, their gaze focused on the ground. When the doors opened up at the Métro stop, I hurried outside, my adrenaline increasing as I knew I was that much closer to seeing Alex again.
It had been a few weeks since I had visited the Marais, as Alex and I had met the last two times at the café in Place Saint Georges. The same winding alleys that had seemed so exotic for me the first time I went to the Armels’ bookstore now seemed much more familiar. As I approached Rue des Écouffes, two dark-haired children crouched near the doorway playing with marbles.
I circled around them and pushed through the door.
The bell chimed, and as I entered, the scent of old parchment permeated my nostrils like a familiar perfume. In the back, I could see Alex engrossed in conversation with his father and a man who appeared to be the book restorer, Solomon.
Alex turned and saw me as the door closed.
I saw him motion to excuse himself and he walked toward me, a big smile crossing his lips.
“You’re the best sight I’ve seen today.”
