Page 79 of The Velvet Hours
She looked as though she was appraising him as she spoke. “I can see why my granddaughter has taken such a liking to you.”
I felt myself redden with embarrassment.
“Grand-maman... ,” I protested, but she raised her hand to silence me. She would have the last word.
“You seem like a delightful young gentleman,” she told him. “And when I look at you, I can imagine you making my granddaughter quite happy. To an old woman like myself, this is a gift.”
***
That evening, as I went to say good night, I saw her at the dining room table.
“Good night,Grand-maman,” I said sweetly. I came over to her.“Thank you for today.” In her peignoir set, her face naked and without makeup, she looked more vulnerable than she typically appeared. She seemed to be writing something, but she covered her hand to shield me from seeing what it was. I inhaled the scent of flowers from the cream she used on her skin. And I realized that I didn’t just love Alex. My heart had also made room for this woman who smelled of rose.
40.
Solange
March 1940
Iwent to Alex the next day at his father’s store. When I arrived, it looked as if half of the inventory had already either been packed away or sold. The shelves were nearly empty, as less than a third of the number of books remained compared to my previous visit.
Standing in the back were Alex, his father, and Solomon. I could hear the faint sound of German being whispered. I knew that Alex’s father’s family had originally come to Paris from Alsace and it was probably easier for the German-born Solomon to converse with them in his native tongue.
I walked closer to them, my eyes traveling again to the sparse shelves. An ominous feeling washed over me. What if Monsieur Armel had decided he had no other choice but to flee Paris, even at the risk of Alex being imprisoned for ignoring his draft notice?
“Solange.” Alex looked up. I could immediately sense the strain on his face.
Monsieur Armel, too, looked far wearier than the last time I had seen him.
“Have you met Solomon Weckstein?” I shook my head. “We’re very lucky to have him. He does amazing work with restoring our most delicate manuscripts and books.” Monsieur Armel gestured with his hand toward the thin man in the ill-fitting black suit. He was taller than both Alex and his father, but he stood with his shoulders sloped and his neck bent forward as if he were afraid to take up too much space.
“A pleasure to meet you,” I said, extending my hand.
Solomon, clearly uncomfortable with my presence, did not take my hand. He only nodded politely. I let my hand fall to my side.
“We have been discussing the need to close the store,” Alex said.
“At this point, most of our former clients have no interest in buying anything for their collections. If anything, they want to sell what they already have.” Monsieur Armel’s eyes fell to the ground as Alex spoke on his behalf.
“And Solomon here is telling Papa that we should just sell everything we have and try to get visas to the United States before it’s too late.”
I remained quiet.
“But as you know, leaving is impossible for me unless I’m first released from my military service.” Alex looked exhausted. “And I don’t see that being possible.”
“There’s no point in me still working without my son at my side.” Monsieur Armel’s voice sounded shattered. “I built this business to be able to provide for him, with the hope that one day he would take it over,” he sighed.
Solomon muttered something in German to Alex, and I saw both he and his father shake their heads no, as if saying whatever he was suggesting was hopeless.
“What does Solomon think?” I sounded desperate.
“He says Papa should do something harmful to my eyes, so I’ll fail my medical exam.”
“What?” I was incredulous. “What could he possibly do to your eyes?”
Alex shook his head. “He said in Poland, teenage thugs threw acid on the most beautiful Jewish girls’ faces, and it not only scarred them, it blinded them, too.”
I shuddered at his words, and my fingers instinctively floated to touch my own face. The image of the young girls was horrible and hard to put out of my mind.
