Part 6: Sabrina
 She pulled the thread, leaned her head sharply and bit the string. She unfolded her legs, stood and held the pants in front oh her. “Voila! Your pants are ready!” “Thank you. They look great!” Sigrid folded the pants across her arm and handed them to Sabrina. She hesitated to take them. Sigrid doubled the pants and sat on the sofa. Sabrina sat alert, rocking on her bottom slightly and wiping at hair that was already smoothed on her head. “So, Sabrina. What brings you here to Paris? To the building across from me with your friends’ cousin.” Her voice is pure and silky. Every syllable is pronounced; every emphasis placed on the right letter. She was relaxed on the sofa, her legs stretched out and gently crossed at the knee her elbow propping her body on the cushion. She rested her other hand on the pants between them. Sabrina looked at the pants then to Sigrid’s inquisitive stare. “I came here because…I came here because I needed to find out something.” “Yes? And have you found out?” Sabrina looked away, to the plain white counter surrounding the kitchen and glassy steel hood above the stove and copper pots hanging from it. “I’m still working on that.” Sigrid sat up and tucked her legs beneath her. She touched Sabrina’s sweatshirt, fingering the material then let go. “When I first saw you, the first time sitting on that balcony I thought you looked very sweet with your glass of wine and cigarette and those long pants. I wondered what you were hiding. You are very beautiful. Very delicate. But you hide in long loose clothes. I’m fascinated.” She smiled; friendly and curious. She was a woman determined to get what she wanted. “I’m not hiding anything. I don’t always dress in big clothes. They’re just comfortable.” “I see.” “Do you live here with somebody?” Sabrina was proud of her directness and her mimicking silky smoothness. She felt she was doing a good job disguising her fear. “I live here with my husband.” Sigrid stood and walked to her purse on the kitchen counter. She slipped a cigarette from a new pack, dug into her pocket for the lighter and drew a puff. She looked out her window, took another puff and then walked back to Sabrina. She held the pack out to her. “Do you want one?” “No, thanks.” “Claude. That is my husband.” “I’ve seen him” “Yes.” “Have you been married long?” “For twenty years now.” She puffed her cigarette. The orange flame end was brilliant against the white apartment. Sabrina tried to place her age. She looked very young but her manners were old, classic. “I married him when I was still a girl” She pointed her two fingers, cradling the cigarette, at Sabrina. “Just like you. I married him when I was nineteen. I hardly knew what I was doing. He was a man, so handsome and so charming. He was what I wanted.” “I’m twenty.” Sabrina felt foolish for pointing out such a minor detail. Her face turned from tan to maroon. Sigrid seemed to sympathize with her awkwardness. She smiled, drew, then blew the smoke over her shoulder. “Do you like being married?” She felt she had redeemed herself. “Sometimes when he is home and we spend our time together, I like it. He’s a photographer. He is always away or always at some party or fund raiser where his work is shown. He’s a busy man. But, I knew that when I married him. That is what excited me. After twenty years though…” She puffed hard, savored the smoke in her mouth then blew it through oval lips ”After twenty years of hotels or being left home for weeks at a time it get lonely.” “Yeah. I bet.” “But I have my sewing, and my friends.” She leaned forward, squashed the cigarette in a crystal ashtray and took another from the pack. She held it between her lips as she lit it. “I am not French, you know” she said out the corner of her mouth “I am German.” “Really? I didn’t think you were French, I mean you speak perfect French but you don’t have an accent when you speak to me. You don’t sound German either. You have an accent, a little one but I thought...” “Yes?” The cigarette was lit and burning a thin line of smoke. “I don’t know. You just…have a sound I really never heard before.” She shrugged and felt the maroon blush spreading in her cheeks.” “I lived in Los Angeles for six years with Claude, and we are in London very often, and then two years ago I was in New York.” She touches Sabrina’s sweat shirt. “You really ought to wear things that fit you.” Sabrina swallowed. She looked into Sigrid’s face, her pale skin and pink lips. Her smooth powdery cheeks and silky white hair. Sigrid had no lines on her face, not like Astrid and her laugh lines. Sigrid looked deceptively pure, like a fragile woman but her presence cause fear in Sabrina. Fear and anxiety. “Do you have a boyfriend in New York?” “Not really. I was friends with somebody and then I left.” “I see. I’m sorry I startled you earlier when I asked if your roommate was your lover. I saw you two at the market holding hands and so I thought you two were in a relationship.” Sabrina laughed and felt immediately sorry. So put her hands on her face to cool her burning cheeks. “Astrid is like that. She’s very friendly. She has a boyfriend.” “I see.” Sigrid puffed her cigarette, balanced it on the ashtray and curled herself on a cushion beside Sabrina. Sabrina struggled to cool her face and hide her embarrassed laugh. “Why do you find that so funny? Do you think women being together is funny?” “No,” She blurted out. She straightened herself once she saw Sigrid was not smiling anymore. She looked sleepy, like a small child ready for her afternoon nap. “No, it’s not funny.” “Have you ever thought about it?” “No.” Sabrina swallowed. The heat in her cheeks traveled down her neck, across her back and under hear arms. She looked at her pants, wanted to put them on and leave. “I saw you on the balcony one evening. You were in a skirt; you looked cold. I always see you on the balcony, and Astrid’s shadow inside. I thought your were together at the fair, but you looked lonely with her. You looked as if you wanted something more.” “We’re not together.” “Yes I know.” Sabrina nervously wiped at her forehead. It was still dry, but very warm. She looked at the bright light coming in from outside, the white walls and rug on the hard wood floor. She spotted the black marble amongst the clear ones and felt at ease again.
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