the fact that she was born at all is because you chose a different path during that pregnancy.”
“I’ve wondered about that.” Frannie hesitated, a knot of emotion still hurting her throat. “But my husband has never forgiven me for what happened. Oh, Madame, every month that goes by without Samantha saying a word is … my husband doesn’t say so out loud, but I know he blames me more and more. I’ve got to find out what’s wrong with her.”
“Is she a nervous child?”
“Oh, no, she’s just the opposite. She’s so calm and, well, sort of
dignified
. She’s an old woman! Sometimes I think she blames me too, for putting her through a hard labor.”
“The child is under pressure. She senses all the anger and fear around her.” Madame cupped Frannie’shand in both of hers and shut her eyes. “You are blocking her spirit. You are unhappy. How long have you lived in Germany?”
“Seven years.”
“Homesickness,” Madame proclaimed.
Frannie chewed her lower lip. “I haven’t seen any of my family in all that time. I have a sister—”
“I see her. Blond, yes?” Madame opened one eye and peeped at Frannie. “Like you.”
“Yes! We write to each other, but we don’t have much in common. She’s rich, Madame. Money and prestige mean everything to her. I’m just the opposite. There were bad feelings between us when I left home.”
“Ah! You must go home and resolve this. You envy your sister, but you don’t know it.”
“Envy Alexandra? I don’t think so.”
“Alexandra. Hmmm. I knew her name began with an A. She is …” Madame squinted at her. “Older.”
“Yes. Four years older.”
“Pride is your mistake. Go to your sister. Take your daughter. Clear away the bad feelings. Ask your sister to pay for specialists to perform medical tests on Samantha.”
“No, no, I could never do that. I don’t want my sister’s money. My husband and I agreed a long time ago not to accept any help from my family. I—”
“Pride,” Madame repeated, waving a thin finger. “Pride keeps your daughter from speaking.”
“What?” Frannie said, frowning at her.
“Pride. Like yours. Go home. Set a good example.” Madame placed Frannie’s hand on the table, then leaned back. “That will be five dollars, please.”
Frannie’s thoughts whirled. She hadn’t had time to mull over everything Madame Maria had said, but the woman seemed so confident. Madame had, after all, divined Samantha and Alexandra’s names, the color of Alexandra’s hair, and the fact that Alexandra was an older sister. No one could convince Frannie that psychics weren’t legitimate. She was so desperate for guidance, for ways to protect the daughter she’d birthed after somany disappointments, and to salvage Carl’s respect for her.
She paid Madame Maria and nodded vigorously. “You’re amazing. Thank you. I’ll do exactly what you suggested.”
She was going home to visit Alexandra. She would humble herself.
Alexandra walked quickly out of the house. William was pitching a softball to Tim on the back lawn, where the grass was just beginning to turn green for spring. Her thoughts distracted, she noted wearily that Tim, at six, was chubby and awkward and had no discernible potential for sports. That galled her—she, who had been riding a pony over jumps by the time she was his age, she, who played tennis and golf with expert skill. She had birthed this clumsy little dumpling who started crying as William’s slow, underhanded pitch bounced off the tips of his splayed fingers.
“It’s all right,” William said quickly, striding over to him with the thick, ponderous movements Tim had inherited, and lifting the boy into his arms. Tim sniffled loudly. William patted his back and coddled him, which set Alexandra’s teeth on edge.
She announced loudly, “Frannie called. She’s coming home. I invited her to stay with us.”
William turned and stared at her. It had been seven years since Frannie ran away
“I’ve wondered about that.” Frannie hesitated, a knot of emotion still hurting her throat. “But my husband has never forgiven me for what happened. Oh, Madame, every month that goes by without Samantha saying a word is … my husband doesn’t say so out loud, but I know he blames me more and more. I’ve got to find out what’s wrong with her.”
“Is she a nervous child?”
“Oh, no, she’s just the opposite. She’s so calm and, well, sort of
dignified
. She’s an old woman! Sometimes I think she blames me too, for putting her through a hard labor.”
“The child is under pressure. She senses all the anger and fear around her.” Madame cupped Frannie’shand in both of hers and shut her eyes. “You are blocking her spirit. You are unhappy. How long have you lived in Germany?”
“Seven years.”
“Homesickness,” Madame proclaimed.
Frannie chewed her lower lip. “I haven’t seen any of my family in all that time. I have a sister—”
“I see her. Blond, yes?” Madame opened one eye and peeped at Frannie. “Like you.”
“Yes! We write to each other, but we don’t have much in common. She’s rich, Madame. Money and prestige mean everything to her. I’m just the opposite. There were bad feelings between us when I left home.”
“Ah! You must go home and resolve this. You envy your sister, but you don’t know it.”
“Envy Alexandra? I don’t think so.”
“Alexandra. Hmmm. I knew her name began with an A. She is …” Madame squinted at her. “Older.”
“Yes. Four years older.”
“Pride is your mistake. Go to your sister. Take your daughter. Clear away the bad feelings. Ask your sister to pay for specialists to perform medical tests on Samantha.”
“No, no, I could never do that. I don’t want my sister’s money. My husband and I agreed a long time ago not to accept any help from my family. I—”
“Pride,” Madame repeated, waving a thin finger. “Pride keeps your daughter from speaking.”
“What?” Frannie said, frowning at her.
“Pride. Like yours. Go home. Set a good example.” Madame placed Frannie’s hand on the table, then leaned back. “That will be five dollars, please.”
Frannie’s thoughts whirled. She hadn’t had time to mull over everything Madame Maria had said, but the woman seemed so confident. Madame had, after all, divined Samantha and Alexandra’s names, the color of Alexandra’s hair, and the fact that Alexandra was an older sister. No one could convince Frannie that psychics weren’t legitimate. She was so desperate for guidance, for ways to protect the daughter she’d birthed after somany disappointments, and to salvage Carl’s respect for her.
She paid Madame Maria and nodded vigorously. “You’re amazing. Thank you. I’ll do exactly what you suggested.”
She was going home to visit Alexandra. She would humble herself.
Alexandra walked quickly out of the house. William was pitching a softball to Tim on the back lawn, where the grass was just beginning to turn green for spring. Her thoughts distracted, she noted wearily that Tim, at six, was chubby and awkward and had no discernible potential for sports. That galled her—she, who had been riding a pony over jumps by the time she was his age, she, who played tennis and golf with expert skill. She had birthed this clumsy little dumpling who started crying as William’s slow, underhanded pitch bounced off the tips of his splayed fingers.
“It’s all right,” William said quickly, striding over to him with the thick, ponderous movements Tim had inherited, and lifting the boy into his arms. Tim sniffled loudly. William patted his back and coddled him, which set Alexandra’s teeth on edge.
She announced loudly, “Frannie called. She’s coming home. I invited her to stay with us.”
William turned and stared at her. It had been seven years since Frannie ran away
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