America, Brooklyn
1925, 3rd October
When Calida was seven, she moved from her beautiful, flowery homeland to a strange, angry country where unfamiliar men leered at Mama. Back then, her young, innocent mind couldn't grasp the reason why her beautiful Mama was crying, didn't know why Mama kept looking over her shoulder worriedly, as she led Calida to the train station, which were almost bursting at the seams with anxious people with the same pensive look as Mama.
The airy chateau was traded for a small three-room apartment, and it was linen dresses instead of her lacy satin frocks she wore. Unusually mature for her age, Calida saw the weary lines around Mama's eyes that were never present before, and knew that Mama was perhaps taking everything harder than she was. After all, back in France, servants took care of everything, and Mama never had to worry about the dishes being taken care of, she never had to scrub at the laundry. And so, Calida suppressed the urge to complain and whine and throw an enormous tantrum even when Mama left the small apartment, for hours at end, leaving Calida alone to master English and brush up on her French.
Calida jumped up from the coach as someone rapped on the door impatiently, Calida's mouth opened uselessly, unsure if she was supposed to answer. Mama had given her very specific instructions to act on when she went to work, though nothing forbade Calida from answering. The knocking continued again, a minute later when there was no reply. "Adélaïde! Open the door! " The door of the other apartment on the level creaked open, and a stern voice interrupted the third series of bangs on the painted birch wood door. "Paisley, enough with the ruckus. It's obvious she isn't here! "
'Adélaïde' Calida mused thoughtfully, ignoring the stilted conversation on the other side of the door. That was Mama's name, wasn't it? So did that mean she was to open the door? Her hand hovered above the door knob unsurely. But then again, Mama told her not to open the door for anyone but her. Just then, there was a soft pattering of feet, light and graceful, a sound only experienced dancers, only Mama could produce. Calida straightened instantly, turning to look at the small clock on the mantle. Goodness, it was already five.
"I'm terribly sorry, Paisley, have you been waiting long? "Mama's voice was sweet and warm, and at it, Calida relaxed, the tension she didn't even know was there easing away. And to the neighbour, she greeted "A pleasure to meet you, I'm Adélaïde Francis. " The other woman replied steadily "A pleasure. My name is Hailey Barnes, my family lives down the hall. " The rude woman interrupted snappishly, jealousy colouring her tone. "Too busy opening your legs for another man to come home, I bet. "
Mama inhaled sharply, and Calida felt ire rising in her chest. Although she had no clue what the mean lady-Paisley said, Mama's reaction was proof enough. The other woman-Hailey, bit out, "Just because the man you've been chasing for so long shows interest in Ms Francis, does not mean you are entitled to act this way, Madam Smith." There was a long silence, and then the sound of heavy stomping filled the air, signifying that Madam Smith left. "I'm terribly sorry for what Paisley said, Adélaïde, I can assure you that the people in Brooklyn aren't as buggin' as she is. "
Mama laughed shakily, and the door rattled softly as Mama opened the door. "It's alright, Hailey, I'm used to it, as bad as it sounds. Would you like to take a seat? " The nice woman-Mrs Barnes laughed and agreed easily. Calida flew towards her Mama, hugging her. "Mon chéri! " Mama's arms encompassed her in a warmth Calida basked in. "Mama. I missed you! "Calida mumbled against Mama's cotton blouse, uncaring that to Mrs Barnes, she must have looked like silly child, because she had been so lonely the entire day, and there was a part of her that was terrified that Mama wouldn't come back for her, that just maybe, Mama's fear for something would drive her far enough to decide to abandon her.
