The Room on Rue Amélie(12)

He stared at her before replying. “A baby?”

“I’ll need your help of course,” she said brightly, hoping her enthusiasm would be contagious. “There’s so much to be done before the baby arrives.”

“You’re having a baby,” he repeated flatly.

“We’re having a baby.”

For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, slowly, deliberately, Marcel strode toward the doorway, where he put his hat and his coat back on. When he turned around, Ruby was so surprised by the sadness in his eyes that she sat back in her chair, breathless.

“Oh, Ruby, what have we done?” he asked in a strangled voice.

“But—”

“This is a huge mistake.” And then he was gone, slamming the door so hard that a glass perched on the edge of their curio cabinet plunged to the floor and shattered.

For a long time, Ruby sat motionless, staring at the broken shards.





CHAPTER SEVEN


January 1941

A baby! It was nearly all that Charlotte could think about. What a lucky child to be born into a home with a loving mother and father, where the parents were allowed to work. Her own home life had been greatly disrupted by her father’s recent situation.

“Those Nazi bastards,” Papa said on a snowy night in January as Charlotte sat huddled with her parents around the kitchen furnace. Fuel was scarce, and they were burning an old dining room chair. It had been stored in the closet near the front door for occasions when they might have guests, but Charlotte supposed that wouldn’t be happening for a while.

“Reuven, your language,” Maman said, casting a glance at Charlotte.

“It’s okay,” Charlotte said. “I know many bad words.”

Her father fixed her with a glare. “Well, you should not. You are a lady.”

“And yet you curse in front of her all the time,” Maman pointed out.

Papa sighed and looked away. “It is the time we are living in. One cannot help but become emotional.”

“This is not the first time we’ve endured desperate circumstances,” Maman said.

Maman and Papa exchanged looks, and Charlotte knew they were thinking about the Great War. Maman had lost two brothers. Papa had lost his twin, Michel. All had fought for the French army.

“I know,” Papa murmured softly, squeezing Maman’s hand.

Charlotte knew she had promised Ruby that she wouldn’t reveal her secret, but in the heavy silence, something made her blurt it out. “Madame Benoit is having a baby!”

Maman and Papa both turned to stare at her. “Madame Benoit?” Maman asked.

Charlotte knew she’d made a mistake by saying something, but there was a sparkle in her mother’s eyes now that hadn’t been there before. “Yes,” she mumbled. “But it is supposed to be a secret.”

“Oh my.” Papa looked worried. “But how will a baby survive in the midst of all this?”

“They are not Jewish,” Maman reminded him.

“I suppose. But still, to bring a child into a war . . .”

“It will end soon,” Maman said.

Papa shook his head. “It will not end until all of France has become German. And when that happens, we will not be here to witness it.”

“Why?” Charlotte interjected. “Where are we going?”

Her father turned to her, an almost dazed expression on his face. “We are not going anywhere, my dear Charlotte.” He wouldn’t meet her eye. “Of course we are not going anywhere.”



CHARLOTTE WORRIED CONSTANTLY THAT RUBY would know her confidence had been betrayed, so when she saw her standing on the terrace on a frigid morning in late January, she rushed outside to confess.

“I told Maman and Papa about the baby,” she said, her words tumbling out. “I’m so sorry. I know it was meant to be a secret.”

Ruby turned to her with a weary smile. Her cheeks were sunken, her face drawn, and she was too tightly bundled in sweaters and overcoats for Charlotte to see whether her belly had grown. “Oh, Charlotte, it’s fine. I would have told them myself whenever I next saw them.” Ruby took a sip from a steaming mug. “How are your parents? I haven’t seen them in more than a month.”

Charlotte looked down. “They are fine, thank you.” The truth was that they were anything but. Papa was barely sleeping. At night, he pored over his account books and slammed his fists on the table. And Maman had slipped deeper into a depression that Charlotte didn’t understand. Maybe when Ruby’s baby came, it would bring Maman back to life. Ruby’s own mother was all the way back in America, so surely Ruby would need Maman’s help.

Ruby studied Charlotte for a long time, giving Charlotte the distinct feeling that she could see right through her. After a while, she smiled sadly. “And how are you, Charlotte? Is school going well?”

“I suppose. Although my only friend, Micheline, left for the south with her family three weeks ago. Papa says that even if I feel lonely now, I must hold my head high and pretend I don’t hear the things the others are saying about Jews.” Before Ruby could begin to feel sorry for her, though, Charlotte changed the subject, blurting out the question that had been weighing on her mind. “And Monsieur Benoit? He is very happy about the baby too?”