“I remembered something that I haven’t thought of for a long time. And I felt wonderful!” She shook her head, still bewildered. “It was just before Christmas, and I was racking my brain over what I could give my sisters, something really special. I couldn’t think of anything—we were poor, we didn’t have money for presents,” she added. “Then one night I was standing by the windows, they were frozen over, and as I was looking out I saw the frost flowers that had formed on the pane. They were shining, so cold and so beautiful!”
She smiled dreamily.
“That night I sat down to blow glass for the first time. I blew my first Christmas baubles, and then I painted them with frost flowers. I wanted to capture the essence of winter.”
“Aunt Marie is very well-known for her glass,” Wanda added proudly. “Her ornaments are sold all over the world. You probably hang them on your own trees.”
At that, the girls all looked at Marie, their eyes shining.
“How romantic!”
“And what happened next?”
“What did your sisters say? They must have been surprised!”
Marie answered their questions, smiling, while Pandora stood next to her and frowned in thought.
“And what was my mother doing back then?” Wanda asked, her eyes shining even more brightly than the other girls’.
Marie’s cheerful mood suddenly vanished. Your mother was heavily pregnant with you—by a man whose name we don’t even speak out loud these days where she can hear it.
“Ruth was . . .” she began, struggling for an answer, when Pandora suddenly clapped her hands.
“Enough of Christmas and baubles and all these stories!” She shooed the girls away until they were scattered around the room again. “We’re here to dance, after all! Which is why I want to dance a piece for you now. Make another circle, please, come along now, get moving!”
As they walked home afterward, Marie felt better than she had for a long time. The dance lesson had broken up a huge block of ice somewhere inside her. She had been frozen inside, motionless, but now all that was over and done with. She wanted to hug the whole world! Instead she linked arms with Wanda.
“Your Pandora is a real artist!”
From then on Marie went out with Wanda more often. They went for walks in the park or drank coffee or visited the library, where they would borrow great big picture books about America, using Wanda’s card. Once Wanda took her to a specialized art supply store, but Marie was deeply downcast by the time they left. There were hundreds of shades of paint and thousands of pencils, but not even the sight of all those made her want to pick up her own brush or sketchpad. Quite the opposite in fact—she was relieved she didn’t have to paint here. Wanda had clearly meant for the trip to the shop to be a special treat, so Marie didn’t breathe a word of her misgivings, but she felt shaken to the core nonetheless.
Ruth watched their outings jealously. She would have preferred to have Marie all to herself. But once it became clear that that wasn’t going to happen, she tried to turn the new situation to her advantage.
“Please try to talk Wanda out of looking for a job—she’s making herself look ridiculous. Do it for my sake,” she begged Marie. “We had to work, back in the old days, but she doesn’t have to. At least, she doesn’t have to work for money. She could work for a good cause—now that would be quite another matter. But the way Wanda carries on, anyone might think we were struggling to make ends meet! People must have started talking behind our backs by now. Please suggest that she do some charity work. Steven’s niece Dorothy, for instance . . .”
“If I get the chance, I’ll see what I can do,” Marie replied vaguely. She was hanged if she was going to join in on Ruth’s side, with all her ideas about what was proper and what wasn’t. When all was said and done, she wasn’t even part of this world, was she? On top of which it was hardly as though she and Wanda had suddenly become best of friends—Wanda hadn’t even introduced her to her fiancé yet. They went on the odd jaunt together but they were a long way from baring their souls to one another.
Marie went along with Wanda to the next dance class as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She had enjoyed the dance, the games, Ivo’s piano playing—why not have another go?
At first she thought she would never be able to tackle this week’s exercise. Pandora read them a poem about a panther in a cage, and then told them to dance what they felt. But then Ivo started playing the music and Marie felt as though she were inside the great black cat, felt all its imprisoned helplessness. Her heart began to beat faster; her arms and legs moved quite without conscious command. When the music ended, she was happy to be back in her own skin.