the fact that I must stay there, only made me think that there was no reason for me not to come with her. In my child’s mind, fifteen hundred was alarge number indeed, and I told my mother so. In my head, I was already packing my own things.
“No, Aurore,” my mother said. “It would not be enough. Half of that amount goes to pay for Caroline’s school. I wouldn’t have enough to clothe and feed us. Soon you would be begging me to send you back to the comforts of your life here, and who knows if your grandmother would take you back!”
This was a consideration. My grandmother had suffered some small strokes that had made her personality change; she was no longer as even in temperament as she had been.
“But I don’t care!” I said. “I never want to come back anyway! It doesn’t matter what we eat, we’ll have marrow bone soup every night and I will love it because I will be with you! Maman, we will be happy, and so everything will be all right.”
She said nothing, and I pressed her further.
“You know I am right. You always say that love and happiness are not for sale, that what is on your back and on your plate is second to what is in your heart. You believe this, just as Papa did!”
She laughed. “You are too intelligent for your own good.”
She grew quiet, thinking. Then she said, “Perhaps I would be happier poor with you than I am here, where I live a life wanting nothing in the way of material goods but where my heart cries out for a freedom and liveliness that will never be here. I suppose you long for the same.”
“Yes!” I said. “I am just like you!”
Her face changed. “No.” She lifted me off her lap and stood me straight before her. “Aurore, listen to me. You don’t fully realize what you would be giving up in terms of education and security and the promise of a good match. I would be remiss as a mother if I did not consider these things for you.”
“My education here is not good, it is airless! They want me to be a puppet. As for a good match, I can find that on my own, just as you did! I love my grandmother, I will continue to visit and care for her, I will continue to sing for her and put on my plays, but must Ilive with her to do that? I tell you, Maman, and you must believe me, I do not care about her money or her house or her fine things.”
“You can say that because you have had such things! But I know what it means to be a young girl with no money. Poverty is what shaped my life, and I had to struggle hard to overcome my circumstances. I was forced to do terrible things. I want better for you!”
“I know what is best for me! And that is to live with my mother! Look into my eyes and tell me you do not agree.”
For a long time, she did look at me. Then she said, “All right, all right! I have thought of a solution. You know I can make charming hats and that I used to be a milliner. I’m going to save some money and open my own shop. Why not? It will not be in Paris—that would be too expensive. Instead, I’ll start my place in Orléans, where I worked before. You and Caroline can help me. We will have many customers; we will make enough money to keep ourselves comfortable. In time, you will have enough of a dowry to marry a worker like yourself, who no doubt will make you happier than the namby-pambies your grandmother would pair you with. You are full of passion, like me; you should marry your equal in that respect.”
“A hat shop, yes, the most wonderful hat shop!” I cried, and my mother put her fingers to her lips to silence me.
“You must tell no one,” she said. “And you must be patient—can you do that for me? For us!”
“I can. But how long before I can come with you? How many days?”
She frowned. “Is this your display of patience? Starting right now, show me what forbearance is in you. Trust in me. Be a good girl for your grandmama, do all she says, and soon you will no longer have to listen to her at all.”
I was enormously
“No, Aurore,” my mother said. “It would not be enough. Half of that amount goes to pay for Caroline’s school. I wouldn’t have enough to clothe and feed us. Soon you would be begging me to send you back to the comforts of your life here, and who knows if your grandmother would take you back!”
This was a consideration. My grandmother had suffered some small strokes that had made her personality change; she was no longer as even in temperament as she had been.
“But I don’t care!” I said. “I never want to come back anyway! It doesn’t matter what we eat, we’ll have marrow bone soup every night and I will love it because I will be with you! Maman, we will be happy, and so everything will be all right.”
She said nothing, and I pressed her further.
“You know I am right. You always say that love and happiness are not for sale, that what is on your back and on your plate is second to what is in your heart. You believe this, just as Papa did!”
She laughed. “You are too intelligent for your own good.”
She grew quiet, thinking. Then she said, “Perhaps I would be happier poor with you than I am here, where I live a life wanting nothing in the way of material goods but where my heart cries out for a freedom and liveliness that will never be here. I suppose you long for the same.”
“Yes!” I said. “I am just like you!”
Her face changed. “No.” She lifted me off her lap and stood me straight before her. “Aurore, listen to me. You don’t fully realize what you would be giving up in terms of education and security and the promise of a good match. I would be remiss as a mother if I did not consider these things for you.”
“My education here is not good, it is airless! They want me to be a puppet. As for a good match, I can find that on my own, just as you did! I love my grandmother, I will continue to visit and care for her, I will continue to sing for her and put on my plays, but must Ilive with her to do that? I tell you, Maman, and you must believe me, I do not care about her money or her house or her fine things.”
“You can say that because you have had such things! But I know what it means to be a young girl with no money. Poverty is what shaped my life, and I had to struggle hard to overcome my circumstances. I was forced to do terrible things. I want better for you!”
“I know what is best for me! And that is to live with my mother! Look into my eyes and tell me you do not agree.”
For a long time, she did look at me. Then she said, “All right, all right! I have thought of a solution. You know I can make charming hats and that I used to be a milliner. I’m going to save some money and open my own shop. Why not? It will not be in Paris—that would be too expensive. Instead, I’ll start my place in Orléans, where I worked before. You and Caroline can help me. We will have many customers; we will make enough money to keep ourselves comfortable. In time, you will have enough of a dowry to marry a worker like yourself, who no doubt will make you happier than the namby-pambies your grandmother would pair you with. You are full of passion, like me; you should marry your equal in that respect.”
“A hat shop, yes, the most wonderful hat shop!” I cried, and my mother put her fingers to her lips to silence me.
“You must tell no one,” she said. “And you must be patient—can you do that for me? For us!”
“I can. But how long before I can come with you? How many days?”
She frowned. “Is this your display of patience? Starting right now, show me what forbearance is in you. Trust in me. Be a good girl for your grandmama, do all she says, and soon you will no longer have to listen to her at all.”
I was enormously
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