Jacques

Today is Valentines day

"Do you think he'll like my roses?" Miss Eclair asked me hopefully.

"I suppose so Miss Eclair," I replied carefully.

"Oh, I'm sure he will," she said, her beautiful blue eyes dreamy.

"Well I'm off to school," she called with a gleeful smile that only 8 year olds in love can produce.

I scrubbed floors and dusted furniture hoping she wouldn't be crushed again.

She came home, I hurried to greet her, but her mother got there first.

"Why are you crying? I told you not to cry! Do you want the neighbors to think that we are as bad at hiding our emotions as -as those commonfolk you go to school with?"

"N-no, but Mommy, Jacques laughed at me when I gave him my roses."

"I don't want to hear of it! And why are you giving that common boy, Jacques, flowers grown on our rich soil?" She said Jacques with such revulsion I cannot even describe.

"I wanted him to like me."

"Like you? Why would you want him to like you? You're becoming too soft, too common. That's it! I'm taking you out of that commoner public school and sending you to private school!"

"But that's not fair!"

"Not only is it fair, it's final!"

I felt a wave of déjà vu as Madame stormed out and I pretended to clean.

I went in to comfort Eclair, she had stopped crying but started again as I hugged her and rocked her back and forth like a baby. I told her that it's okay to cry.