Jerry raised his eyebrows, but he seemed to like the idea.
“Here we are!” Adele’s mother announced, presenting Madeleine in a different dress.
“Thank you, Maman,” Marie said, her gratitude genuine.
Since Marie had asked about the men’s jobs overseas, Adele wondered, not for the first time, what her life was like. She was securely tied to Arthur, obviously, but the day-to-day labour of keeping a curious, intelligent toddler entertained as well, then tending to Fred and the baby and the apartment… it all must get exhausting. Marie had always beenvery sociable. Was she finding any time at all to meet with friends? John’s idea suddenly appealed even more.
“I think we should go,” she said. Other than at Ernie’s party, she hadn’t actually been out dancing, but it had looked like so much fun. And this was a perfect excuse. “You’ll love it, Marie.”
“Sometimes there’s an orchestra,” John added smoothly. “And there’s always dancing.”
Under his gaze, Adele saw her sister consider the offer for a moment before demurring. “Oh no. Not me. I can’t. The children—”
Maman swooped in, right on time. “Tell me,ma petiteMadeleine, would you like to have a fun evening with yourgrandmère? Just you and me and Arthur? Maybe we shall make cookies!” She glanced at Guillaume, who was already nodding. “If yourgrandpèreis not working, perhaps he can stay and watch.”
Madeleine hopped up and down. “Oui!” she cried, using her one and only French word. “Oui! Oui!” Her face suddenly shifted, becoming serious. “But don’t let Arthur have cookies, Grandmère. He’s too little.”
“All right. Those will be for you and me. And maybe Grandpère.”
“All right. Maybe him, too,” Madeleine allowed. “But only a few.”
“Maman,” Marie said, observing their back and forth. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
Their mother feigned confusion. “You didn’t. I want these little angels all to myself, and I want you and Adele to have a good time together.”
Adele reached for her sister’s hand. “Oh, you’ll love it, Marie. Dancing is so different these days. No one worries about anything, and no need to wear fancy clothes. We just go for fun.”
Marie wavered. “I don’t have anything to wear.”
“I have just the thing,” Adele said. “It’ll be so pretty on you.” She glanced at Jerry, and somehow he picked up her silent plea. John suddenly looked at him, startled, and she had to assume his brother had kicked him under the table.
“John and I would like to look after these dishes,” Jerry said. “To show our appreciation for such a fine meal.”
John blinked, then joined in. “Of course. Madame Savard, if you would, show me to your soap and towel.”
Glowing at the sight of the two brothers at the sink, Adele led Marie to her room and pulled out the blue gown she had worn to Ernie’s party.
“Oh, Adele,” Marie breathed, draping it over the bed. “It’s gorgeous.”
“Try it on. It’ll make you feel like a princess.”
“I don’t know…”
“About the dress? Or the dancing?” Adele asked. “The Riverside is a classy place, so this dress will be perfect. I should warn you, however, that there will be booze there. I know how you feel about that, but please don’t make that your deciding factor. You don’t have to drink.”
Marie frowned slightly. “I’m not quite as… militant about alcohol these days,” she admitted, lowering herself onto the bed. “In fact, I’m no longer a member of the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union. I’ve gotten myself into something else entirely.”
Adele took a seat next to her, intrigued. Apparently, Marie had changed in more ways than one since her last visit. “What happened?”
“I’ve seen things recently that have moved me to learn more. When I saw a veteran on the street, missing limbs and having no one to talk to, it broke my heart. They gave so much over there, and we seem to have mostly forgotten them. Then I started seeing more and more of them huddled in doorways, sleeping in parks… I saw them everywhere.”
Adele had as well. She was proud that a few had built better lives since they’d started working for Jerry and John. “What did you do?”
“I did two things. The first was that I started approaching the men, seeing if they wanted to talk. I thought it would be more difficult since the children were around me all the time, but then I discovered Madeleine’s dear little face encouraged conversation more than I could. A lot of the men didn’t want to say much, and just like you three, no one wanted to discuss the war. But they seemed glad I was there. Theyneeded to know someone was listening, I think, and I was happy to do it. Sometimes their words were a little garbled, or they said things that didn’t make much sense to me, but they seemed grateful for a cup of coffee when I brought one. Sometimes, they asked me for a drink of something stronger. I looked at their faces, and I thought about what you said.” She swallowed. “Then I bought three or four pints of whisky and gave them out. It seemed to ease their misery, and I started to understand.”
Adele was listening closely, a sense of wonder rising in her chest. “You said there were two things. What was the other?”
Marie twisted her mouth to the side, a sure sign that she wasn’t sure how much to say. “A few months ago, I read something in a magazine about a new organization in the city that was focused on amputee veterans. You had written to me about Jerry’s wounds as well as those of his cousin, and so naturally I was interested in learning more. The very next day, I told Fred I was meeting friends for lunch, but in fact I went to knock on the organization’s door. It’s called the Amputations Association of the Great War, though they have shortened that long title in conversation to the War Amps of Canada.”
