I was startled awake the next morning by a tap-tap-tap on the doorframe of our room. Donna was standing there, dressed in jeans and a cute blouse, wit... her jacket over her shoulder."I've got to leave; the bus is almost here. I made a pot of coffee and my homework is done. I'll see you this afternoon." I heard her run down the stairs to the front door.I shook my head and nudged Connie. "Time to get up, sweets. Donna is on her way to school."She grunted and rolled over. I swatted her on the butt. Second was Madeleine’s Aunt Charisse, her mother’s sister who had come to Paris in the mid-1890s as a teenager and had been a can-can dancer at the Moulin Rouge before taking up sculpture. Charisse wasn’t open about it, but it was a poorly-kept secret that she was a lesbian. None of us – Marcel, Madeleine or myself – necessarily approved of her lifestyle, but Madeleine adored her, in spite of it all. Charisse was a bright, witty person who lit up a room with her mere presence, much like her. More

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