Chapter 2
“How goes it, Marie?”Genevieve asked walking into our room and sitting down on her bed the next morning. Then, she soon left to go practice dance so I was able to let my characters wander and roam the room, escaping the wall that was between me and the real world. This world could devour anything, destroying it to pieces. But I had no ideas in my head; once again, writers block struck me and stopped my chances being a great and extraordinary writer. I yearned to be one of the greatest writers of all time. That dream, sometimes felt as far away as the stars. I scribbled in my diary, writing about the cold, of how it was cold enough to get frost bite, and of my modeling for Monsieur Degas.
It was exhilarating. The fact that I was modeling a genus. Plus, I knew that as I was perfecting my writing, I would still be able to create a way to help momma and Genevieve. To lighten the burden of money for them.
“Marie! Marie, come down!” Genevieve called from the hall way.
“I am coming, one moment.”
“Mademoiselle Cassatt has invited us to a, ‘small ball’ for Christmas tonight! Can you believe it? Mother said we may go.” She told me, handing me the dove-white telegram. It was decorated with a gold brocade and lacy handwriting. I handed it back to her after reading it trough thoroughly.
“That is a grand idea!” I exclaimed, twirling about around the living room. Trying not to run into mothers chair and the hearth of which was lined with pictures of earlier times, when we were all happy and carefree. "But, what should we wear? Our poplin dresses will not due." I said, suddenly aware of the tear in my skirt.
We went back to our room, opening our hope chest and thumbing through the lace, chemises, and ribbons I pulled out a light, yellow, silk dress, Genevieve her forest green one with bits of lace at the collar. “I have the most wonderful feeling about tonight! Imagine: dancing to your heart’s content with your sweetheart”, at this she was mentioning her sweet heart, Monsieur Le Blanc. I cut in, “That would be fine as May, if I had a sweet heart.” I said, putting a light pink butterfly clip into my mop of brown cirls“You will have one soon enough, it surprises me that you don’t. With all your charms, thoughts and your beauty!" She was mentioning my hair and my cheeks, but that was about all of the beauty there was of me.
She changed the subject, “Do you know where your gloves are?”
“Yes, they are on the bed.”I assured her. There was a shuffle as we hurried to get on our, stockings, gloves, coats and, scarves. The whole process of getting ready took a whole hour-and-thirty-minute. I could not get the blon curls in Genevieve’s hair to stay tight, we could not find a parasol, and I was in a tangle as I tried to get my stocking’s on; I ended up losing my balance and falling over onto the cold wood floor.
“I wish I had the gloves and dresses of Marie Antoinette. But we are not destitute, not yet at least.” Genevieve smiled. " Yes, let them eat cake!" I joked as she helped me up to lace my corset. Momma had already laced up Genevieve'. I remember the first time I had worn one. I was fourteen and my family was invited to a ball. Excitement filled the air as we Picard women put on petticoats and refreshed our curtsies. Since the war, no one was having parties and balls. This was the first in many months. We all rushed off into the carriage and rumbled away. We were going to the Ashley’s grand house. Once we had gotten there, Genevieve and I were talking and laughing, being fine, elegant young ladies, dancing with our dance partners, having a jolly good time. When all of a sudden everything went black and I awoke to see that my family and friends were hovering over me. Mother and Father had rushed to my side. The eldest of the Ashley children said,” She just fainted dead away.” Momma replied as she helped me to my feet,” Yes, corsets do produce such an outcome.”
I thought of that night, as my corset was being laced. It felt as if my ribcage was breaking. I looked at the mirror and saw the same reflection: brown mid-length hair, brown, sparkling eyes, long eye lashes, of which I resmebled from my father, rosy cheeks and fine lips, all set on a long oval face. There were a few blemishes on my face, of which I desperately tried to get rid of. I gave a sigh and said discouraged, “Good as it is ever going to get." I winced as the corset got tighter. “Sorry, is that too tight?” Genevieve asked, loosening the white strings. I closed my eyes, breathing in the little amount of air my lungs would allow at that moment. “That is good, thank you.” I told her when she had synched me in.
We arrived at Mademoiselle Cassatt’s town house at seven o’clock; we were late.
“Hello, dears!” She said cheerfully when she opened the door to us, “How is your mother? Alright, I hope?”
Genevieve replied with a deep curtsy:“She is good with health and is jolly. Thank you, for having us. We greatly appreciate it.”
“Oh, you are quite welcome dears." She replied with a smile. “Do come in.” She led us into the parlor. “Well, I will check up on you in a while. Enjoy yourselves.”
Mary Cassatt was an artist from America. My mother, of who was friends with many people, knew Mademoiselle Cassatt, we had once been a family of grand luxury; those were the old days, they were gone now though, perhaps forever. She was friends with many artists. Such as Edgar Degas and May Alcott.
Monsieur le Blanc was already there and soon swept Genevieve off her feet with his kind eyes, gentle voice and, handsome features. I was left to wander, dance through the crowds, stare off into space and, ponder. I was swaying to the music of a waltz that had just begun to play, “Port Royal Gallop”- Claudio Grafulla. (1810-1880). Mademoiselle Cassatt was American, like us Picard’s I watched the elegant faces on the lovely ladies as they spun with their handsome partners; there gazes at each other said it all. Then, I saw him.
He looked at me; a sly smile fell across his gorgeous face. He started to walk over to me. It was Jean-Robert. He was a family friend. He was amazingly handsome, hypnotizing; blue eyes that were like ice, straight blond hair; he was tall, awkward and had a noble brow.
Jean-Robert and his family stayed in Strasberg for a while, and then they followed our path to Paris, France. He reached me, took my hand and whispered, “I have missed you.” I replied with a smile on my face, “As have I.”
“Would you like to go some place to chat; catch up on things?” He offered.
“Yes,” I replied, weakly.
We sat in a coat room, amongst furs, shawls, scarves and, top hats. Where our secrets, dreams and worries were kept and hidden, never to be revealed to the outside. These secrets were told in confidence.
“If I wasn’t going to be a dancer, I would go back to America and be one of the greatest writers of all time”, I told him boldly, “Are you shocked?”
He smiled; I turned my head to him and smiled back, like a fool! His blue eyes mesmerized me, but in a gentle way. “ In my mind, America is a modern and grand place; I miss it terribly. I dream about back home,” I confessed to him, a tone full of sadness,” I mean, things that are dreams here are real in America! The land of opportunity!”
“Yes, I suppose.” Jean-Robert said bashfully.
“Would you honor me with a dance?” I nodded. The parlor was filled with young faces, smiling and looking at each other, we were lined up, girls on one side, boys on the other. The young men bowed. Jean-Robert was looking at me as he did that; the girls curtsied. The orchestra started with slow notes then gradually increased. We started to dance, we walked to the center, turned, and then walked diagonal of where we were. We hopped in place for four beats. Then, made a circle of four and walked around three times. Finally ended with walkng dowmn the long line. “That was so fun!” I commented.
“I should probably go find Genevieve.” I said.
We had found Genevieve with Monsieur Le Blanc, sitting on a bench, talking. “What do we have here?” Jean-Robert joked to his tutor.
They jumped up, embarrassed. Le Blanc alleged, “Please allow me to escort you and young Marie home.” I crinkled my nose as I saw them hold hands and whisper to each other. I didn’t want Monsieur Le Blanc ruining our home life. I could tell that he was in love with Genevieve like no other. We marched up the icy stones, Genevieve and Monsieur Le Blanc in front of us, Jean-Robert and me, a few paces behind. We spied on them and listened to their conversation:
“I have always wanted to go to England and paint the countryside!” Genevieve stated.
“Yes, young Jean- Robert tells me that you are an excellent painter.”
“Oh, well it’s just something I play at! “ She said, bashfully. They linked arms together as the hill got steeper. Then walked on, Monsieur Le Blanc was hypnotized; he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her! Jean-Robert stopped and seized my hands into his, my stomach turned with butterflies; I gave him a puzzled look.
“Marie, I want to rewind, go back to the time of Strasberg, to when we were friends and played all the time, I want to be friends again. I have missed you.” His words made my stomach flop.
“As have I and, I would be pleased to be friends again.” I told him, even though I knew something had changed between us, even though I didn’t dare say what I thought it was. By that time, we had reached the mouth of our apartment, Jean-Robert lived only a few blocks away; he told me.
“Well, I guess this is a good bye.” I said, suddenly melancholy.
“No, not good-bye, but a ‘see you soon.” He laughed. I smiled, "Alright, see you soon then,” I told him, then I looked over to Genevieve and say that, Monsieur Le Blanc, looked at Genevieve fondly, I rushed up to them and said:
“Thank-you, good-night.” I pulled Genevieve along with me.”
“Oh, good-night.” She said quickly to her lover,
“Good-night,” he said, sounding discouraged. I creased my forehead and shouted. “Good-night Jean-Robert!”
“Good-night, Mademoiselle Picard!”
“That was rude!” Genevieve scolded me as we went up the steps.
“You clung onto him!”
“It’s proper to take a gentleman’s arm when it is offered to you.”
I crinkled my nose, she copied. Silence filled the halls and we both broke down and hugged each other, saying we were sorry and foolish little birds. I could not bear lososing my sister. Our family had already lost a big part of us, we couldn't bear to be without each other.
“I just, don’t want anything to change. I want everything to stay the same, so we can be as we are right now forever. To never grow old, marry, and lose each other, I could not imagine my life without you.” I confessed to her as we made our way up to the door of our apartment.
“I will always be here for you, no matter what comes about.” She assured me. I smiled at her, she smiled back and we opened the door to our cozy apartment.
