Leap of Faith Read Online Free PDF Page B

jam on the table. That was breakfast. “You can make toast, if you want,” she said, pointing at an ancient, rusting chrome toaster on the counter. Marie-Ange quietly put two slices of bread in it, wishing there were eggs and ham, like Sophie used to make, or peaches from the orchard. And when the toast was done, Carole helped herself to a slice and put jam on it sparingly, left the other piece of toast for Marie-Ange, and put the bread away. It was obvious that her morning meal was a small one, and Marie-Ange was starving.
    “I’ll have Tom show you around today, and tell you what chores to do. From now on, when you get up, you make your bed, you come in here and make breakfast for both of us, like I just showed you, and you get to your chores before you go to school. We all work here, and you will too. If you don’t,” she looked at her ominously, “there’s no reason for you to be here, and you can live at the state institution for orphans. There’s one in Fort Dodge. You’ll be a lot better off here, so don’t think you can get out of your chores, or working for me. You can’t, if you want to stay here.”
    Marie-Ange nodded numbly, knowing as never before what it meant to be an orphan.
    “You start school in two days, on Monday. And tomorrow we’ll go to church together. Tom will drive us.” She had never bought a specially fitted car that she could drive. Although she could have afforded it, she didn’t want to spend the money. “We’ll go into town today, after you do your chores, and get you some decent clothes to work in. I don’t suppose you brought anything useful with you.”
    “I don’t know, Madame … Aunt … Mrs. …” Marie-Ange groped for her words as her aunt watched her, and all she could think of was the gnawing emptiness in her stomach. She had barely eaten on the plane, and nothing at all the night before, and her stomach was aching, she was so hungry. “Sophie packed my bags,” she explained, without saying who Sophie was, and Aunt Carole didn’t ask her. “I have some dresses I used to play in,” but all the torn ones she had worn to play in the fields had been left in Marmouton, because Sophie had said her aunt would think them disgraceful.
    “We’ll take a look at what you brought after breakfast,” her great-aunt said without smiling at her. “And you’d better be prepared to work here. Having you here is going to cost me a pretty penny. You can’t expect room and board for free out of me, and not do anything to pay for it.”
    “Yes, Madame,” Marie-Ange nodded solemnly, and the old woman in the wheelchair glared at her as the child tried not to tremble.
    “You may call me Aunt Carole. Now you can wash up the dishes,” which Marie-Ange did quickly. They had only used a single plate each for their toast, and a cup for Carole’s coffee. She went back to her room afterward, not sure what else to do, and was sitting on her bed staring at the photographs she had put on the dresser, of her parents and her brother. And her hand was touching her locket.
    She gave a start when she heard her great-aunt wheel herself into the doorway. “I want to see what you brought with you in those three ridiculous suitcases. No child should have that many clothes, Marie, it’s sinful.” Marie-Ange hopped off the bed and dutifully unzipped her cases, pulling out one smocked dress after another, the embroidered nightgowns, and several little coats that her mother had bought for her in Paris and London. She wore them when she went to school, and for church on Sunday, and to Paris when she went with her parents. Carole stared at them in grim disapproval. “You don’t need things like that here.” She wheeled herself closer to where Marie-Ange stood, and dug into the suitcases herself, and then began making a small pile on the bed of sweaters and pants, a skirt or two. Marie-Ange knew those things weren’t beautiful, but Sophie had said they would be useful for school, and