Page 62 of The Velvet Hours
My father insisted that I move into Marthe’s a few days before his own departure. On that afternoon he carried my small leather suitcase to her apartment, and again tried to tell me he thought the situation was for the best.
“You don’t know how relieved I am that someone is looking after you while I’m away, Solange,” he said as we walked toward the Métro.
I had brought little with me, as I didn’t want to upset Marthe’s apartment with any unnecessary clutter. In my suitcase, I packed only the necessities: a few everyday dresses, my toiletries, my writing notebooks that contained my working novel, and my parents’ wedding portrait. And of course, I packed the two precious books from my mother, carefully wrapping them in brown paper and placing them between the layers of my clothes.
“I understand,” I told him. Although I wasn’t sure how comfortable I would feel sleeping in Marthe’s apartment, I knew my father would rest easier knowing that I was not alone while he was at the army hospital. I was also concerned that Marthe seemed frailer than she had in past months. Seeing her every day would now give me the opportunity to make sure her health was not deteriorating, and it would enable me to hear more of her life story.
***
This time, it was Marthe, not Giselle, who answered the door.
“Solange and Henri... ,” she said, and waved us inside. “Such a rare treat to have you both here at once.” She kissed me on both cheeks as Papa put down my suitcase.
“Hopefully, I’ll get some leave in a few months,” Papa said as he straightened his back and walked over to us.
“I’m still surprised they’d conscript a fifty-three-year-old man for the war,” she said, shaking her head.
“There’s a dire need for pharmacists at these army hospitals. The nurses can administer the medicine, but they need someone there to do the compounding. Not to mention, the dosing of the morphine...” His back stiffened. “These are matters of science that need to be in the hands of those with pharmaceutical training.”
Marthe nodded. Her face was heavily powdered today, and she was wearing a long gold necklace in addition to her pearls.
“Well, at least at the military hospital you won’t be in the line of fire...”
“No, I’ll just see the men with their heads blown off.”
I shuddered.
“Sorry,” my father apologized. “It’s just that I haven’t forgotten what I saw in the hospitals twenty-one years ago with the Great War...”
“Well, it’s good Solange will be safe here away from all that...” Her fingers gently touched my arm.
“Yes, we are all in agreement on that.”
Marthe nodded, pleased to hear him grant her at least one concession.
“I’m very thankful you’re allowing her to stay with you.”
“It’s my pleasure, Henri. I feel a real kinship with Solange.”
I smiled, touched by her words of affection. I had been visiting my grandmother for over a year and a half, but it was only in the past few visits that I felt she had truly shown a more human side of herself.
“Giselle has made a cot up for Solange in the small room next to mine. There’s even a desk she can use for her writing. I think she’ll find it all very comfortable.”
“Thank you,Grand-maman.”
I saw my father’s face register that I had called her “Grand-maman.”
“Shall we go into the parlor and have some tea?” I saw her glance over to my father, and there was a look in her eyes that I hadn’t seen before.
It was as if she was seeking something from him. And I wondered if it was the need for forgiveness.
***
Father did not accept her invitation to tea. “I must go over the store’s inventory with Monsieur Cotillard this afternoon. I have at least a dozen loose ends to tie up before I leave.”
“I can only imagine.” She went over and kissed him gently on both cheeks. It was the first time I had seen them touch.
“Let me give you a moment to say good-bye to Solange, then,” Marthe said with a maternal kindness that surprised me.
