Beautiful(15)

“I suppose I was lucky. Some people lost arms and legs, or both. It’s only my face.” She tried to minimize it in her own mind too, but she couldn’t. The challenge she was facing was huge, and Gabriella had confirmed it.

“You were so beautiful,” she said almost enviously, and then caught herself. “You still are. Will it get better?” she asked in a hushed voice.

“A little, not much. They can do more surgeries to smooth down the scars, but they said they won’t go away completely. The scars are too deep. They want to let it heal for a few months. I might see a doctor in Paris. But they’ve done all they can for now. They told me to wear the mask, but I hate it. You’re the only person I’ve seen till now, except for the doctors and nurses and my mother’s law partner, but he didn’t see me without the bandages. If I don’t wear the mask, I’ll frighten children on the street,” Véronique said sadly.

“No, you won’t. I just wasn’t prepared when you took it off. I was guessing that all your injuries were internal since I didn’t see any missing limbs.”

“It sliced a piece off my liver, but apparently that grows back,” Véronique said. “I’ll just have to get used to it. It’s kind of hideously ironic, since I’ve made a living from being ‘beautiful’ for four years. So I’m out of work now too.”

“What will you do?” Gabriella asked, worried for her. There were girls she knew who would have committed suicide with a face as badly scarred as Véronique’s. She hoped Véronique wouldn’t be one of them, but she had never been particularly vain in school. She was just incredibly beautiful. This was going to be a huge change for her, and a lot to deal with.

“I thought of wearing a burqa, but I’d feel stupid and dishonest doing that too. I guess it’s the surgical mask or nothing. I think people will be afraid to hire me for a normal job, I’d frighten the clients.” She felt like a leper and a pariah as she said it, but Gabriella knew it was true. “And I don’t know how to do anything except pose for the camera.”

“Maybe you could be a photographer,” Gabriella suggested.

“Maybe. I hadn’t thought of it. I’ve just been kind of surviving from day to day between surgeries. I haven’t thought past this, until now. And it will be so weird going home to an empty house without my mother. I’m going to move into her apartment.” It would be like crawling back into the womb for her, which she needed now, but painful without Marie-Helene providing the womb.

“Stay in touch, Véro,” Gabriella said when she left. “I never get to Paris anymore, but if I do, I’ll call. And you can always call me if you need to talk. You must have a million friends.” She had followed her old classmate’s jet-set life for years, and they were light-years apart now.

“I don’t know. I’m not friendly with that many models. I was working all the time. The boy I was dating was with us, just by a weird coincidence. He was killed too.” Mentioning him reminded Véronique of something she wanted to do, and hadn’t been able to face yet. Gabriella had opened a door that afternoon, and Véronique realized that she couldn’t hide from the real world forever.

Gabriella stood up to go, and Véronique walked her to the door without her mask. They hugged again at the door, and she thanked Gabriella for the visit and the flowers, and Gabriella turned in the doorway.

“I’m sorry I reacted the way I did when I saw your face. I was so sorry for you. I’m just glad you’re alive. That’s all that matters.”

“Is it? I keep asking myself that. What matters now? How I look or what I do or who I am? I’m not sure who I am anymore. I’m not the same person I was six months ago, inside or out.”

“No one would be,” Gabriella said. “You’ll figure it out.” But they both knew it wouldn’t be easy. Finding herself now and a new path in life would be harder than twenty-six surgeries and surviving the bomb. She had to find her way now, and she had no idea how to do it. Gabriella’s reaction to seeing her scarred face had told her all she needed to know about how people would react to her. One thing was sure. She wasn’t beautiful anymore. That was all she had been before. Now she would have to be more. But what? And how? She had absolutely no idea.





Chapter 5


After Gabriella’s visit, Véronique asked the nurse for some paper and an envelope. She had a letter to write that was long overdue. Gabriella had been an emissary from a broader world, beyond the hospital, surgeries, and medications. Véronique was going home soon, and beginning to think about the world she had left behind and almost forgotten for the past nearly six months. Cyril had been part of that forgotten life, although she hadn’t forgotten him.

She wrote a letter to his mother that night, and couldn’t stop crying while she wrote it. There was so much to say, but she didn’t know his parents well, and had only met them once. As an only child, she could only imagine how immense their loss was. She told his mother how sorry she was, and what a lovely young man he had been. She offered them heartfelt sympathy and apologized for not writing to them sooner. She said only that it had been a difficult time for her, and didn’t offer twenty-six surgeries as a valid excuse. At least she was still alive, but he wasn’t.