24. Rebecca

Chapter twenty-four

Rebecca

Paris, Paris City Hall, May 1948, three years later

"Mom, I don't want to comb my hair, that's how I like it, and I hate this dress; it's ugly. I look like a little girl with a ribbon in my hair. I'm not a child anymore." I say to her and throw the pink ribbon on the dresser. "I'm already twelve years old," I announce and angrily leave the side room in City Hall before she can answer. I don't care that she's getting married in a few minutes, and I don't care that it's important to her that I be beautiful. That's how I want it, and that's that. I want to have wild hair. That's how I like it.

To my surprise, the small city hall is already full of people, some are standing and talking to each other, and others are sitting on the wooden benches arranged in front of the judge's stand. He'll soon conduct the wedding ceremony. Earlier, when Mom and I arrived, the hall was still empty. I didn't think so many people would show up. Mom and I hardly know anyone there.

"Rebecca, is Mom ready yet?" Margot, Mathéo's mother, approached me.

"Yes, she's so beautiful," I tell her and smile. She's treated me as if I were her granddaughter ever since she met me three years ago, after the war ended.

"And don't you want to fix your hair?" She asks.

"No, I like it wild, and Mom argued with me and said that I should be tidier. She doesn't understand anything," I shake my hair to the sides.

"She'll understand. You are already grown up," Margot smiles at me.

"Has Mathéo arrived yet?" I ask.

"Yes, he has already arrived and is waiting for Sarah to come out," she points at him. "Can I go in and help her get organized?"

"I think she'd like that," I proudly reply. She treats me like I'm an adult and consults me.

Margot enters the side room, to help Mom, and I stand in the hall and look around. Mrs. Angelina stands by the entrance with her husband and tries to calm down two-year-old Jolie, who's screaming. And there are a few other people I don't know there, could be Mathéo's friends from the police.

Mathéo's already standing next to the judge's stand, wearing a suit. He's no longer as thin as the day we met him when we were on our way to America yet ended up staying here. Mom was also thinner back then. He's talking to Father Nicholas, who rescued me that night. From time to time, Mom and I come to visit Father Nicholas in his church, even though we're Jewish. He says God opens His heart for everyone. He also keeps calling me Sophie, even though he knows it's not my name. Every time he calls me that, I smile and recall the chocolate bar and the teddy bear that I had with me in those days. The girl bear is no longer with me. She's thrown under my bed. I'm all grown up.

Next to Mathéo and Father Nicholas stands a man with an amputated arm, probably from the war, and next to him is a woman and a boy who's a few years older than me. He must be fourteen or fifteen, and he's so handsome. He has black, greasy hair. His mustache has already started to grow. He's so handsome, and he's looking at me. I feel myself blushing, and I escape to the side room.

"Margot, I need you to help me fix my hair," I reluctantly tell Mathéo's mother.

"What happened? What changed in the last five minutes?" Mom asks me.

"Nothing," I reply. "That's what I've decided," I don't want to tell her about the handsome boy who's looking at me.

Mom is wearing a white dress and looks so beautiful, and Margot is helping her fix the dress' hem.

"I'll take care of you in a second," she smiles at me, leaves the room, and returns after a moment accompanied by a young woman of twenty or thirty. "Rebecca, this is Mrs. Sophie. Mrs. Sophie is a hairdresser and our neighbor," she introduces her to me.

"Sit here," Mrs. Sophie points to an empty chair in the small room. "And we'll see what can be done with your messy hair," she looks at me with a scrutinizing look .

"Mom, can I put on lipstick?" I ask Mom a minute later as Sophie combs my hair and turns it wavy and beautiful. I want to tell her that I also went by the name Sophie for a few years, but I'm ashamed.

"No, you can't put on lipstick. You're not old enough," Mom tells me, and I feel like crying. He won't look at me anymore. He won't like me.

"Are you ready?" Mrs. Angelina opens the door. "You're so beautiful," she walks over to Mom and hugs her as little Jolie smiles at me.

"We're ready," Mom stands up and looks in the mirror. I can see she's excited.

"Let's go, Rebecca," she reaches out her hand.

"I'll be there in a second. Thank you, Mrs. Sophie," I tell Mom and thank the hairdresser, who combed my hair and tied it beautifully.

Once they close the door behind them, I look in the mirror, slap my cheeks hard, and pinch them, giving them some natural blush. I want the boy to think I'm wearing make-up. I then rummage through Mom's make-up bag, take some pink lipstick, and apply it to my lips. I'm ready.

When I go out into the hall, everyone's already seated and Mom and Mathéo are already standing in front of the judge.

"Where were you?" Margot asks me as I sit down next to her.

"I finished getting ready," I answer and search for the boy among the people in the hall. He's sitting in the second row to my right, not far from me. He also looks to the sides as if searching for someone. Is he looking for me ?

"His name is Luc," Margot whispers to me after a few minutes as the judge speaks and reads the marriage agreement.

"Who?" I ask her, whispering.

"The boy you keep looking at."

"I'm not looking at him," I reply and blush. "And why is there a male judge and not a female judge anyway?"

"Because it's a man's job," she whispers to me.

"Then I'll be a judge," I whisper back to her.

"First, you must study law. Now be quiet and look at your mother; look how beautiful she is."

I look at my beautiful mother and Mathéo, who are getting married. When I grow up, I'll be a lawyer, and then a judge, and I will marry Luc.

The End