Solange
April 1940
The next morning, I awakened refreshed and happy. With the gift of General d’Angelis’s letter, it felt as though a heavy brick had lifted from my chest. I no longer imagined Alex dying alone in a trench or in a far-off military hospital. I pulled my legs out from beneath the white linen and stretched my toes. Sunlight poured in through the little diamond-cut window above my bed.
I slid my arms into my robe, knotted the sash, and walked toward the kitchen. I could hear the sound of water running and suspected Giselle was already hard at work cleaning up from what remained of last night’s dinner.
“Good morning,” I said when I saw her. She was bent over the sink scrubbing a pot with some soap and steel wool. Her apron was spotted with water.
She lifted her head toward me, then pulled out her hands and dried them on her apron.
“You are up earlier than I expected, mademoiselle. I’m sorry I haven’t yet prepared your breakfast tray.”
“Don’t worry,” I said, walking over toward the stove to retrieve the kettle. “I can do it myself. We left you with extra work after last night’s dinner.”
“I was glad to see madame so happy,” she said as she removed the pot from the sink so I could fill the kettle.
“Still, I’m glad she is sleeping in today...” She placed the pot to the side and began drying it. “She tires so easily now.”
It was true. It wasn’t just the cough and weight loss I had noticed; Grandmother was retiring to her bedroom right after dinner.
“And I’m sure you’ve noticed, madame no longer seems to have an appetite.”
I nodded. I had noticed that Marthe hardly ever touched her food anymore.
“You can imagine how much difficulty I have trying to get the right ingredients for her menu, and when I see she doesn’t eat a morsel... well I know something must be wrong, mademoiselle.”
I had been aware that something was ailing Marthe for weeks now, and I was relieved that Giselle had brought it up.
“Has she seen a doctor?”
Giselle stepped back from the sink and reached behind her back to unknot her apron strings.
“Madamehasseen the doctor.” She looked down at the tile floor. “She made arrangements for Dr. Payard to visit her here when you go out on your errands.”
I looked puzzled. “Why would she feel the need for such secrecy? She knows I would only show concern for her.”
“Madame is most private about things. But I am ashamed to say that I eavesdropped while he examined her in her bedroom.”
I said nothing, waiting for Giselle to relay what she had heard.
“He told her that he wanted her to come to his office for some further tests. That he had reason to be concerned.”
“Did she agree to go?”
“No. She told him she didn’t want a diagnosis. She said even if he were to tell her she was dying, it wouldn’t change a thing. She was going to live out her life as she always had.”
“This is ridiculous... If there is something we can do to help her, we must encourage it.”
“Madame is modern in some ways, and wholly old-fashioned in others. Surely, you realize she intends to keep her illness a secret. She is a very proud woman, Mademoiselle Solange. She will do everything in her power to hide it behind her face powder and lipstick.”
I knew what Giselle said was true.
“I always believed it would be just the two of us here at the end. But now I am bolstered by the fact that you’ve come into her life. That she has managed to forge a connection with someone who shares her blood.
“She has been good to me.” Giselle’s eyes were now moist. “When my husband died, she paid for his funeral. Two days later, a basket of the most beautiful children’s clothes arrived at my doorstep and a basket of food from Fauchon’s. She could have sent both from a middle-of-the-road merchant, but she sent the best. Even for me, her maid.”
***
