by Lorna Lee
“I don’t hate anyone, Amiel. I’m just afraid that if there’s a war against the Jews, I don’t want any part of it. Especially because my baby.”
“Our baby, Meri. Our baby.” Amiel got up from the bed and paced the small bedroom. “You say Madame treats you harshly and is difficult to work for. How could you believe any filth that comes from her mouth?”
“Because she is my employer. What if she finds out I’m carrying a Jew baby? Do you think she’ll keep me as her maid?”
“Let her fire you. I’ll marry you and take care of you and our baby.”
“But what about this war? How will you take care of us in a war against the Jews?”
Amiel threw his hands up in the air. “What war? I don’t hear any bullets or bombs. Do you? There are no tanks plowing through the streets of Paris. The Germans love to talk of war like Parisian women love to talk of fashion. They’re dreaming.”
Meri covered her face with both hands. She spoke, but even she did not know if her words were meant for Amiel or God. “Why does the father of my child have to be Jewish? Can’t he change and become like me?”
“I don’t believe this! Meri, I’m proud to be who I am. Are you really that ashamed or afraid of me because of my religion?” Amiel had taken on a ghostly pallor.
Meri shook her head and sighed. She hoisted herself up from the bed as if she were already nine months pregnant. Amiel did not make a move to help her. “I’m tired…and confused.”
“Meri, don’t let those evil Germans scare you.”
“Evil? That’s the word they used about Jews. I don’t know what to think. I know one thing for sure. This baby needs my protection.” She kissed Amiel on the cheek and gave him a long embrace. “Au revoir, Amiel.” Meri didn’t allow herself to cry until she had walked several blocks away from his apartment. She sat on a park bench. The tears and moans came from a place so deep inside her, it frightened her.
She decided, for her own safety and the protection of the child she was now responsible for, she would never see Amiel again. Avoiding him would be easy. He doesn’t know where I work or the name of my employers. He’ll never find me since we always met either at a public place or at his apartment. That was smart.
When she thought of his soft touches and gentle kisses, she wanted to run back to him. Maybe he could protect them and all the talk of war and the Jews part in it was nonsense. But something inside her told her to walk away from this man and his promise of a good life. I don’t even know if I love him. What good is love anyway? It’s a luxury not meant for me. I have Mamma to thank for that. She never loved me and probably put a curse on me. No love for Meri, even with kind and gentle Amiel. I found a man, and he’s a Jew in a time and place where suspicion and danger surrounds all Jews. I hope you’re happy, Mamma! If she turned back and married him, she knew she would regret it. She knew it. So she did not turn back.
Meri would raise this half-Jewish child alone. She only hoped that Madame would allow her to continue to work for her and that this baby looked more like its mother than its father.
Part 3
(Paris, France, 1933-1947)
Chapter 10: Jeannine Vivi
“Choices are made in brief seconds and paid for in the time that remains.”
Paolo Giordano
On the cold evening when Meri and Amiel parted, she did more than cry. She planned. I don’t have the luxury of sentimentality, she told herself. I must protect my job and my child. Somehow, I will make a life for the two of us and hide from Amiel. If this talk about the Jews is even partly true, I don’t want anyone to know I consorted with one of them and my baby is half Jewish. This child must be only French…only mine.
Meri sat on the park bench for a long time, holding her only slightly rounded belly. She rehearsed telling Monsieur Dorval, who would hopefully smooth things over with Madame. Soldat was the key to keeping her job. As long as she remained strong and healthy, she could handle Soldat as well as her household chores. Why would they discharge me as long as I can perform my duties with a baby in my belly? When the baby is out, everything changes. What will happen? Madame will never allow a servant’s baby in her household.
Meri decided a talk with Siri was her best course of action. She will have my answers. With as much—or as little—settled, she returned to the Dorval residence and began life as an unwed mother-to-be.
Madame noticed the weight Meri gained. “Buying a new uniform is more expensive than going on a diet, Meri.” Madame repeatedly told her. Meri used her adept sewing skills to repeatedly alter her uniform to fit her expanding body. Meri kept her pregnancy a secret until her uniform no longer fit.
The day finally came when she had to tell Monsieur Dorval. Meri hoped he would understand and she could still keep her job. Convincing Madame would be a battle that she did not have the nerve or energy to think about until this one had been waged and won.
Meri knocked on his study door, even though it remained open nearly all of the time. He’s such a caring and sociable man, Meri thought, even to his servants. “Meri! Come in and sit down.” He stood to greet her. Such a gentleman, too.
“Monsieur, may I have a few moments of your time?”
“Of course, Meri. What may I do for you? Is Madame in one of her moods again?” He winked. His eyes twinkle like Papa’s always did when we had our private talks.
“Non. Madame is fine. The trouble is all mine.” Meri could not look at his kind, handsome face, which had aged gracefully since they had first met ten years ago when she first entered his fashion house.
“What is your trouble, Meri?” His voice carried oddly harmonizing tones of concern and amusement, as if servants could not have grave problems to worry about. Perhaps he assumes a good girl like me couldn’t have serious troubles. Papa always assumed the best when it came to me, unlike Mamma…and Madame.
“I’m ashamed to tell you. I hope you’ll still want me to work for you after you hear what I have to say. If you don’t, I understand. I love my job and admire you greatly. I love Soldat with all my heart. Madame is a fine woman who keeps an organized and proper household. I like her routines and schedules. I love my work.” Meri rambled on and repeatedly twisted the hem of her tight uniform.
“Oui, Meri. Oui. I, too, think you fit beautifully in our home. Soldat would be unmanageable without you. Come out with it. What horrible thing do you have to tell me?” The lightness in his voice did not match his words. Meri wondered, Is he not taking me seriously?
“I’m with child, Monsieur.” She said it simply, directly, and waited with her head down for whatever he had to say.
Silence.
Finally, she raised her head to look at her employer. Hopefully, she thought, he’s still my employer.
Sitting back in his chair, Monsieur Dorval had his arms folded across his chest. He wore an expression Meri had seen her father wear when he attempted to discipline her but did not have his heart in it. But something is different than how Papa would look at me, Meri noticed. He looks almost hurt. Have I betrayed him without knowing?
Meri did what she used to do with her father—she opened her eyes wide in a well, what-are-you-going-to-do-now? expression.
He did what her Papa always did. Monsieur Dorval’s lips cracked into a faint smile.
When her Papa smiled instead of scolding her, Meri would let out the breath she held, soften her eyes, and wait. She did the same sitting in front of Monsieur Dorval. He’s just like Papa. Relief relaxed her tense posture, and she settled into the cushiony chair.
“Another man has stolen your heart, eh? I thought Soldat and I were the only men in your life.” He spoke in such a way that Meri could not tell if he was serious or if he was joking with her.
“Oui, Monsieur, but I don’t love him. I wish to stay here with you and Soldat.”
He nodded while rubbing his chin. I think he’s trying to hide a smile, Meri thought. Does Monsieur like me in a way very different than Papa does…or did?
Meri
startled when he spoke, bringing her back from her musings. “Your news will not sit well with Greta.” He had become more serious and seemed to be speaking to himself. Papa did the same while considering how to handle Mamma. He turned his attention to Meri. “When is your baby due?”
“In the summer. July, I think.”
“We are likely to be in the country. Good. Good. Zara will come with us. We often only take one maid and leave one behind to care for the main house. You will stay here. Can you handle Soldat?”
Unsure if he asked her or had pondered aloud, Meri answered. “My good friend Siri could come here…until I’m strong enough to walk Soldat with the baby. As long as I’m able to walk, I’ll tend to Soldat.” I’m sure Siri will help me. She may have trouble arranging things with her job, though. Mon Dieu! We’ll make this work out one way or another. I don’t know how, but we will.
“Meri, this is none of my business, but what about the father? I she not willing to help you?” Monsieur Dorval’s eyebrows furrowed. His eyes and voice spoke, however, only kindness and concern.
“Non. He’s gone.” Meri smoothed the perfectly smooth skirt of her uniform.
“You wish to keep the child?”
She nodded. “It’s my duty.”
“I understand.” He took a deep breath and released it. “Madame, she may not understand.”
Meri turned her face, flushed red with nervousness, away. She pinched her lips together in a crooked frown.
He noticed Meri’s concerned expression. “Let me worry about Madame. You should focus on staying healthy and comfortable. Getting you a larger uniform would be a good start.”
His words and demeanor relieved Meri, yet her blushing worsened. He sees how fat I’m getting. “A larger uniform would make working more comfortable.” What else can I say? How many more problems will this baby cause me?
“Meri, do not be embarrassed. What kind of fashion designer would I be if I did not notice how fabric fits to a woman’s body?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her.
Meri offered him a thin smile—the only thing thin about her these days.
“You go now and tend to Soldat. I will speak to Madame now. I assume she, too, has noticed the snug fit of your uniform?”
“She believes I need to go on a diet.”
Monsieur laughed out loud and slapped his knee. “That is my Greta! She has the solution to every problem. My wife may seem harsh and rigid, Meri—she often is—but you must understand, her parents raised her to be ‘the perfect girl.’ Those Germans and their perfection are impossible to live with sometimes.” He shook his head. “I am almost glad we did not have children.” He seemed to be talking to the air rather than Meri, which was fine by her. I agree. Madame would have made a brutal mother.
Meri stood up, smoothing her uniform. “Merci, Monsieur. You’re the kindest man I ever met in Paris. I hope to work for you for a long, long time.”
“Let me see if I can make that happen. I do not want to lose you. Meri, you cheer up this dreary house for me.” He walked around his desk and escorted Meri out of his study, his arm protectively wrapped around her shoulder.
§
When Meri came in from letting Soldat romp through the gardens, she heard more than she wanted to hear of Madame’s and Monsieur’s “discussion” of her future. If she could have just gone directly to her room in the servants’ quarters, she would have been spared the details, but Soldat needed to be fed. Meri was in the kitchen and the Dorvals were in Madame’s private study. Even with the door closed, she could hear their loud and passionate deliberations.
“You are so soft, Michel, especially concerning that…her. Why do you care so much about a maid?”
“Greta, Darling, I have told you many times. She reminds me of a younger me—when I just started my business. The day she came into—”
“I know the story. Do not bore me with it again. I hired her when you asked me to. I overlooked her being sick when you came to me on her behalf. Now I find out she was not sick at all!”
“Greta, I did not know she was with child back then. I doubt if she even knew. She is quite an innocent girl and needs our support.”
“Michel. You are easily fooled. Women are not so innocent. Especially women who end up pregnant without a man to claim as a father. Is this the type of person you trust in our household? I certainly do not!”
“Meri is not a stranger to us. You know her work, and she has never given you cause to suspect her of any mischief. Do not forget Soldat. He listens to no one else but Meri.”
“You need not remind me that my dog is controlled by that woman!”
“Well, Darling, you assigned his care to her.”
Ha! It’s true. What can she say to that? I can tell she’s upset. She’s stomping around the room. Meri heard the sharp click-clack of Madame’s heels on the marble floor.
Greta’s voice snapped Meri out of her thoughts. “What good is a housekeeper who must attend to a baby? I will not pay for a mother to tend to her child.”
“I agree. This issue must be resolved.”
“What about a pregnant housekeeper? Am I expected to lighten her duties?”
“I suspect as her health requires—”
“Then her pay will also be lightened.”
“Greta. Meri will have added expenses. We cannot cut her pay. It is inhumane.”
“It is logical. I am in charge of the household help, Michel.”
“But I bring in the wages you disperse.”
Silence, then Meri heard something slamming.
“Greta. Do not fool yourself. I give you a great deal of autonomy in all matters regarding the operation of our home. You do a wonderful job. I am simply reminding you where the money comes from. You will not cut Meri’s wages. We will have to work something out once the child is born so she may attend to her duties to you during regular working hours.”
Madame’s voice was softer, shakier. “Michel. I cannot have a baby…another woman’s baby…in my home. Not after losing so many of our own.”
Soldat salivated so much he left a huge pool of drool near Meri’s feet. She had stopped his food preparations in order to eavesdrop on a conversation determining her future and the fate of her unborn child. The dog nudged her in the belly hard enough to make her gasp. She hoped the Dorvals did not hear her and that Soldat would not start to whine or, worse, bark. Meri gave the dog a hunk of lamb, which he swallowed whole. She quietly but quickly prepared his meal, trying to keep her attention on both the knife she used to chop the dog’s meat and the turn the conversation had taken in the adjacent room.
The next thing Meri heard stunned her. Monsieur Dorval said, “I must agree, Darling. I will tell Meri she will have to find another home for her child.”
“Merci, Michel. Then Meri can stay. What she does while she is not working—visiting her child, seeing men, whatever—is no concern of mine as long as it is legal.” Madame’s sniffling seemed unnatural and forced to Meri’s ear.
“You have nothing to fear, Greta. I would stake my reputation on Meri’s honorable character.”
Meri winced as she put Soldat’s jumbo-sized dog food bowl down for him. He ate as if nothing was amiss. He ate as if Meri did not face having a baby and giving it up for strangers to foster. He ate as if Meri had not consorted with Jews, which was tantamount to sleeping with the enemy in Madame’s mind. Does Monsieur think Jewish people (and women who have their babies) are despicable. I hope not. But to be safe, I’m going to keep my baby’s origins a secret.
Meri had no idea how unpopular Jews were and how persecuted they were about to become.
§
Only one person knew the truth about Meri’s baby: Siri. Siri made a special effort to visit Meri throughout her pregnancy. On weeks when a visit was not possible, Siri and Meri exchanged letters.
The beautiful 1933 Parisian spring pirouetted into summer. Meri waddled slowly around the Dorval residence, doing her chores and caring for Soldat. The extra thirty-five po
unds on her petite frame made efficiency impossible. Her ankles were swollen and her tent of a uniform was soaked with sweat by mid-day. Madame did not seem to notice, or if she did, she refused to show sympathy. As long as Meri could move, Madame made Meri move. Zara worked harder, never resenting the added workload. “Ve vimim haf to help each udder out.” Zara assured her with a gentle pat on Meri’s very round belly every time Meri apologized for the unlaundered bed linens or the pans she could not bend down to put away.
Monsieur, however, became almost solicitous to Meri when he was home and saw her struggling, though he could not be obvious in his protection of Meri while Greta watched. When he saw Meri struggle to get up from a chair, when hoisting up cleaned dishes into cupboards after dinner or picking up a tray of coffee and cups from his study, he came to her aid. Although Meri did not want to take advantage of her employer’s kindness, she deeply appreciated his tender paternalism. He wants to take care of me. I want someone to watch over me, like I wanted Papa to when he was home. What’s the harm in this innocent arrangement—a needy woman and someone willing to help her? If it’s something more on his part, I don’t encourage it…at least I don’t think I do. Who knows with men? Meri began to understand how easily certain people, sometimes men, could be manipulated by a vulnerable woman in need of help.
§
On Meri’s Sundays off, she and Siri met as often as possible near the Dorval residence. Especially in the latter months of her pregnancy, walking to a central location was too difficult for Meri.
One Sunday in mid-June, Siri brought lunch. They sat on a bench in a local park. Children played, birds sang, lovers embraced while lying on blankets, and people simply enjoyed the sunshine, gentle breeze, and mild warmth.
“We picked a glorious day for our lunch.” Siri stretched her arms over her head and tilted her face toward the sky, eyes closed, smiling broadly.