Revelation: Hope, love, and action.
Millie had never been invited to someone’s home. Yet Madame Bonet had urged that they meet at her cottage. Perhaps it was because she was pregnant and therefore it was easier than traveling to the convent, but still! And Madame Bonet—Suzanne—also insisted that they be on a first-name basis. Like friends! Millie had never really had a friend. . . .
Walking along, Millie took great pleasure in observing and savoring the neighborhood’s details. Rue de Rampart was lined with wood and stucco cottages, richly painted in maroons, greens, royal blue, and mustard yellows.
She walked up the steps and onto the porch. The overhang not only sheltered her from the slight mist but also made her feel insulated from her usual world. She hesitated at the entry door and then knocked lightly, worried that it would not be answered.
The door swung open, and Suzanne greeted her with a big smile. “Hello, Millie! I’m so glad you could come. Let’s sit in the dining room. My servant Hazel is getting us some refreshments.”
Millie suddenly felt shy—a unique experience for her. She held out a bouquet of anise and lavender. “These are for you, Suzanne. They help to combat the bugs. Not that you have any, of course!” She flushed with embarrassment.
Suzanne laughed. “We all have bugs, Millie! What with keeping the front and back galleries open for cross-ventilation, there’s no way around it. At least there aren’t so many in December as in the summer!”
She held the flower bunch up to her nose. “I love their perfume! I’ll have Hazel scatter these around the house. Thank you so much!”
Millie was noticing the home’s layout. It had two equal-size rooms in the front and two in the back. The front and back shutters were unfastened, their openings providing cool breezes throughout the house.
How different from Millie’s stifling space in her mother’s “house.” The first item one noticed when entering Millie’s room was the bed, opposite the doorway. There was a window over the bed, but she couldn’t open it, because of inside bars that prevented anyone’s entering or leaving. A tub was by the small fireplace on another side of the little room, along with a small table and two chairs. The fourth wall held a large mirror. That was also where she placed her trunk, which held her clothing, linens, and utensils. The accommodations were just large enough for eating, sleeping, bathing, and, of course, business. No, Millie thought, she would never be able to reciprocate with an invitation to her abode.
Millie’s thoughts returned to the present as Suzanne led her toward the back of the house, saying, “And we do grow the citrus trees and roses outside in the back to help overpower the odor on the street, but the insects are constant. My maman believes that they can actually make you sick. She’s quite rigorous about keeping everything clean.”
Now in the dining room, Millie noticed a cookpot hanging over charcoal in the fireplace.
“Mmm. Something smells delicious,” said Millie.
“It’s my version of jambalaya. Hazel and I made it out back in the kitchen. I’m just keeping it warm now. My husband, René, loves it. So do I, of course. I’m taking some over to my maman’s after our meeting. Would you like some to take home with you?”
Millie was flabbergasted. “Why, I-I-I . . . ,” she stuttered.
“It’s settled, then. I’ll have Hazel put some into a small pot for you.”
“Well, thank you,” Millie said. “That’s very generous of you.”
“I should be thanking you!” answered Suzanne. “You are so brave to be going to the battlefield! I admire you so much.”
“Well, I just want to help. And, honestly, there isn’t much else I can do!” said Millie.
“We’re all doing what we can, Millie.”
Hazel entered the dining room with a tray of cookies and a pot of coffee. Suzanne waited until the servant left.
“Maman’s upset because I’m organizing the scheduling. She’s afraid that it will be too strenuous at this time.” Suzanne patted the slight bulge around her waistline.
“When is the baby due?” asked Millie.
“I have another couple of months to go, and I’m healthy as a . . .”
“Mule?” suggested Millie. Then she laughed. “Sorry, that just popped into my head. I just met the mule that I’ll be driving to the battlefield. Her name is Bella, and she’s in extremely good shape.”
Suzanne laughed, too. “All right, mule it is—although I don’t think mules can get pregnant. Anyway, I have lots of energy and a good head for planning. Plus, in my own way, I’ll be doing as much as I can to keep my René safe.”
“It sounds like you love him very much,” said Millie.
“Yes, I do. I never knew anyone like him; he’s opened up a whole new world to me. Do you have anyone special in your life?”
“I believe I do, Suzanne,” Millie said, thinking of Peter. “And he’s done the same for me: opened up a new world, a fresh way of thinking. Oh, my!”
“You’re blushing, Millie,” said Suzanne. “You must tell me about him the next time we meet. But right now we need to get down to this all-important venture of ours.”
She drew some papers toward her; they were neatly organized, showing columns and rows. Some listed names, shifts, duties, and places, while others had inventories for equipment and medical supplies to be recorded.
“It’s just a guideline for now,” said Suzanne, “easy to change if necessary. But it’s a start. And here’s your section—what to fill in, where to go, et cetera. Does it make sense to you?”
“Yes, this looks very thorough to me,” said Millie, studying the list. “You do have a good head for details.”
“I enjoyed organizing it—it helps to make the time go more quickly until my husband comes home. So, you think this will work?”
“Yes, thanks to your organizational skills, Bella and I will be ready to help win this battle.”
“Good! It’s too bad that René isn’t home right now, so I can’t introduce you to him yet. But let’s go over to my mother’s house with the jambalaya. You’ll meet Miguel, her husband. Unfortunately, Mother is not home now, either; she’s actually at General Jackson’s headquarters.”
“Oh, my! Why?”
“My maman has very special nursing skills. She’s a midwife, and she also knows a lot about the curing properties of herbs. She makes medicines to heal many different ailments.” She continued, “General Jackson has a recurring case of dysentery, and my mother was summoned to restore his health.”
“Do you have those same doctoring skills?” asked Millie.
“No, I help her sometimes, but haven’t inherited her particular gifts. We are alike in many other ways: we’re both organized, good listeners, and, I have to add, stubborn!”
“You are fortunate to have such a wonderful mother, Suzanne.” Millie smiled wistfully.
But, not wanting Suzanne to pity her or, even worse, ask about her own maternal line, Millie threw back her shoulders and managed a look of determination. “Well, we had better win this war, then, before your baby shows up!” she said.
“Absolutely. The sooner, the better, because René and I have so many other things planned!”
Suzanne gathered up her papers and handed Millie her duties. Just then, her servant came in bearing two containers. “Ah! Here’s Hazel with the jambalaya. Let’s go!”