“I shall be right back,” Marie said, the baby in her arms. “Madeleine needs a change.”
“Wonderful to meet you at last, Adele,” Fred said, shaking her hand. “May I call you Adele? Really, what an honour this is. What stories Marie has told me about you, the family’s very own heroine!”
Adele had known people would ask about the war, but she hadn’t quite figured out how to respond. The truth was far too much for those who had not been there.
“Oh, it’s not like that at all. I’m just glad I was able to help.”
“I imagine all those poor, unfortunate men were pleased you were there as well. A pretty little bird fluttering about in the middle of all that devastation.”
“I hope so. I did what I could.”
“You must have seen a lot of terrible things.”
She nodded tightly, hoping he’d get the message, but he seemed determined to continue.
“Personally, I believe it was an unthinkable crime to have sent ladies over there.” He pulled a flat silver case from inside his jacket, selected a cigarette, and lit it, never once taking his eyes off hers. She waited for him to offer one to her, but he did not. “It should be obvious to anyone that the fairer sex would not be able to tolerate such violence and horror.”
Ah, so that explained the way he was watching her. Somewhere between disapproval and a dare. He’d probably been waiting a long time to challenge her about this. She glanced over as her sister returned to the room, but Marie was depositing Madeleine into her high chair, then was off to the kitchen.
“The whole war was a crime, wasn’t it? Difficult for everyone,” Adele replied. “Fortunately, the thousands of women who did, voluntarily, serve both overseas and here tolerated it just fine.”
“But still. The things you saw and did, that would certainly upset the natural order of things.”
“What does that mean?”
“Why, that you have now seen men in all conditions and states. A travesty for women to witness those things. Not to put too fine a point on it, but how could a man possibly wish to marry a woman who has seen such things? There’s no state of dignity left for either the man or the woman.”
She forced a smile. “I’m afraid marriage wasn’t the first thing on my mind when I was out there, Fred.”
“Aha, but there’s the problem. Shouldn’t it be, after all? You’re two years younger than Marie, correct? Twenty-four? Now that you’re back home, it certainly will be, and while I understand modern women feel entitled to work—”
“Fred!” Marie exclaimed, rushing from the kitchen with a steaming tray in her hands. “I’ve asked you before to please not bring up your archaic principles.” She looked at Adele with kind eyes. “Don’t listen to him. Come and sit. I made us a new recipe that I hope you’ll like. I can hardly wait for these rations to end so we can eat real food again. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
Adele slid into her chair, but she couldn’t escape her brother-in-law’s stare, so she turned her attention to Marie.
“What did you make? It smells delicious.”
“You’d never know this wasn’t a roast of pork. They call it a camouflage roast. Really, it’s just breadcrumbs and ground peanuts, onion, an egg, flour, milk…” She frowned briefly. “Yes, I think that’s all. Oh, and I made corn bread. Wait. I’ll go get that.”
Fred seized the opportunity. “The whole process of going to war—”
“Forgive me, Fred, but where was it you served? I’m sorry. I can’t recall.”
Fred smoothed his tie. “I was needed here.”
“Bureaucracy,” Marie breezed, bringing the corn bread. As soon as she sat down, she broke off a little piece and put it on the tray of Madeleine’s high chair. “Who knows what goes on behind those government doors.”
Fred’s chin lifted. “A lot of very important things that I’m certain would not be of interest to you, my dear.”
Adele took a bite of the roast, surprised by how good it was. It didn’t taste like pork, but after years of rations, anything that had flavour was welcome. “This is delicious. You can hardly tell the difference.”
“Thank you,” Marie replied. “I’m sorry we can’t pour a little celebratory wine. Tea?”
Marie’s letters had made it clear that since becoming a married woman, she had also joined the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union. That had struck Adele as funny at first. Throughout their lives, various towns and villages around the province had been “dry,” but Marie and Adele had always enjoyed some of Guillaume’s own brand of sweet wine around the table with him and Maman. Back then, Marie’s laughter had been the loudest. But nowadays, she appeared serious about abstaining.
“So you really can’t buy alcohol anywhere?” Adele asked, holding out her teacup. “I read something on the train about a referendum.”
Fred nodded. “Next year sometime.”
