said.
Giselle stopped cutting and turned to me. “Really? Do you think so?”
“I thought for a moment…” I started to say, but then I could not go on.
Giselle, who was washing her hands, quickly dried them and came over to me. She offered her hand and led me to the living room where she pulled out a photo album. She quickly ruffled through the pages and handed me a very old photograph.
“This is my Meme, Josette Simone. Jean made copies of her picture at the University so I could make the labels.”
I took the picture and studied it for a long time. The nose, eyes, mouth, and cheekbones were all the same, still there was something different between the two. I stared at it for some time before I realized that the woman in the picture was smiling. Her smile was kindly, but very proud, the same as Giselle’s. I tried to hand it back to her, but she stopped me.
“Would you like to keep that?” she asked. “I have many copies.”
I looked back down at the smiling woman and thought if I pretended hard enough, it could be a picture of Maman when she was happy.
“Thank you,” I said as I carefully tucked the picture away in my sweater pocket.
“Come on,” Giselle said as she put the album away, “we must finish getting dinner ready.”
***
Giselle showed me which side to set the wineglasses on while she uncorked a bottle and set it out on the table. It was dark red, like the kind Maman drank. My stomach started to turn at the smell, but then Giselle brought over a vase of cut flowers that smelled very sweet and placed it on the table next to the basket of freshly sliced bread. Finally, she brought over two silver candlesticks and lit the candles. It was the fanciest table I had ever seen even if the table was old with lots of scratches on the top.
She studied the table for several seconds like an artist studying a canvas. Leaning forward, she rearranged the flowers again, stood back and nodded.
“Voila !” Giselle said. Looking at me, she said, “Why don’t you run upstairs and wash your hands one more time before we eat, okay? Jean should be home any minute.”
I went back up to the bathroom and found a different bar of soap by the sink. This one smelled sweet, like honey. As I looked up at my reflection in the mirror, I saw that my tangled hair was now hanging down in loose curls, just like Giselle’s. I liked how it framed my face and made my cheeks look less fat.
I heard murmuring voices as I came down the stairs. Looking towards the kitchen, I saw Giselle standing close to a very tall, thin woman with short blonde hair and wire-rimmed glasses. I had never seen such a tall woman before. Giselle’s hand was on her sleeve and the woman was listening intently as she spoke.
“It will take time,” I heard Giselle say. “She has been through so much.”
The tall woman looked up and spotted me on the stairs.
***
“Etoile,” Giselle said, “this is Jean.”
She looked older than Giselle and had very blue eyes beneath her glasses and an angular face. She was dressed in trouser pants with a long white shirt hung out loosely over them and a dark vest over the shirt, much like I had seen in the ads for Annie Hall .
She looked at me as curiously as I looked at her, then smiled, put out her hand and said, “Hello, Etoile.”
“Etoile has had a very busy day and deserves a good meal,” Giselle said as she motioned me to a seat. Jean sat at the head of the table and Giselle and I sat down on either side of her.
“You will always have a good meal with Giselle around,” Jean said.
Giselle brushed Jean’s shirtsleeve and smiled.
“Are you hungry now?” Giselle asked as I surveyed all the dishes.
“A little,” I said.
Giselle passed a salad bowl with cranberries and walnuts in it. I started to put some on my plate, but Giselle pointed to a bowl and winked at me.
“Tonight, because this is our first night together,” she said, “you may eat or not
Giselle stopped cutting and turned to me. “Really? Do you think so?”
“I thought for a moment…” I started to say, but then I could not go on.
Giselle, who was washing her hands, quickly dried them and came over to me. She offered her hand and led me to the living room where she pulled out a photo album. She quickly ruffled through the pages and handed me a very old photograph.
“This is my Meme, Josette Simone. Jean made copies of her picture at the University so I could make the labels.”
I took the picture and studied it for a long time. The nose, eyes, mouth, and cheekbones were all the same, still there was something different between the two. I stared at it for some time before I realized that the woman in the picture was smiling. Her smile was kindly, but very proud, the same as Giselle’s. I tried to hand it back to her, but she stopped me.
“Would you like to keep that?” she asked. “I have many copies.”
I looked back down at the smiling woman and thought if I pretended hard enough, it could be a picture of Maman when she was happy.
“Thank you,” I said as I carefully tucked the picture away in my sweater pocket.
“Come on,” Giselle said as she put the album away, “we must finish getting dinner ready.”
***
Giselle showed me which side to set the wineglasses on while she uncorked a bottle and set it out on the table. It was dark red, like the kind Maman drank. My stomach started to turn at the smell, but then Giselle brought over a vase of cut flowers that smelled very sweet and placed it on the table next to the basket of freshly sliced bread. Finally, she brought over two silver candlesticks and lit the candles. It was the fanciest table I had ever seen even if the table was old with lots of scratches on the top.
She studied the table for several seconds like an artist studying a canvas. Leaning forward, she rearranged the flowers again, stood back and nodded.
“Voila !” Giselle said. Looking at me, she said, “Why don’t you run upstairs and wash your hands one more time before we eat, okay? Jean should be home any minute.”
I went back up to the bathroom and found a different bar of soap by the sink. This one smelled sweet, like honey. As I looked up at my reflection in the mirror, I saw that my tangled hair was now hanging down in loose curls, just like Giselle’s. I liked how it framed my face and made my cheeks look less fat.
I heard murmuring voices as I came down the stairs. Looking towards the kitchen, I saw Giselle standing close to a very tall, thin woman with short blonde hair and wire-rimmed glasses. I had never seen such a tall woman before. Giselle’s hand was on her sleeve and the woman was listening intently as she spoke.
“It will take time,” I heard Giselle say. “She has been through so much.”
The tall woman looked up and spotted me on the stairs.
***
“Etoile,” Giselle said, “this is Jean.”
She looked older than Giselle and had very blue eyes beneath her glasses and an angular face. She was dressed in trouser pants with a long white shirt hung out loosely over them and a dark vest over the shirt, much like I had seen in the ads for Annie Hall .
She looked at me as curiously as I looked at her, then smiled, put out her hand and said, “Hello, Etoile.”
“Etoile has had a very busy day and deserves a good meal,” Giselle said as she motioned me to a seat. Jean sat at the head of the table and Giselle and I sat down on either side of her.
“You will always have a good meal with Giselle around,” Jean said.
Giselle brushed Jean’s shirtsleeve and smiled.
“Are you hungry now?” Giselle asked as I surveyed all the dishes.
“A little,” I said.
Giselle passed a salad bowl with cranberries and walnuts in it. I started to put some on my plate, but Giselle pointed to a bowl and winked at me.
“Tonight, because this is our first night together,” she said, “you may eat or not
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