All The Lies We Told Ourselves

6 - C'est La Vie

Celestine

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Sunday, March 3rd

"C'est la vie." Marcellus said, throwing up his hands in resignation. We had sat in the study for three hours, rehearsing my inauguration speech for the next day.

"What?"

"That's life."

A cold breeze blew in through the window and my thin ruffled blouse did not help. I never understood why Marcel insisted on keeping the windows open a crack, even in the dead of winter. He said it "improved motivation and focus" but I just thought it made me shiver.

"Tell me something about them. Your great great grandparents." I said.

Marcel seemed to hesitate. He took off his glasses and rubbed his nose bridge where they had left a dent. His black hair fell over his eyes in braids, instead of how they were usually spread out in neat little curls. I suppose he had done up his hair for the inauguration event.

"My mother told me they were from Chamonix, near the Alps."

"Like the mountains?"

Marcel nodded. I imagined the snow-covered hills and the crisp air. The similar faces, resembling Marcel, each generation a little less, the further back in time you went. My family was originally from Ecuador, but they had moved to the US long before it ceased to exist.

"They spoke French and had a family-owned patisserie, before they made it into a chain."

"What else?" I said, leaning forward on my elbows. I was eager to hear more about his ancestors. How they went from owners of a small local business to the best of the Capitol's food manufacturers.

"Celeste, I think it's best we don't talk about this." Marcus said, glancing in the hallway through the open door. My father must have been in his office, in the other wing. It was fine.

"Can't I just imagine it? I'm not saying we should go back, not at all. I just want to know what they thought, how they felt."

"It's about more than imagination, Celeste. I don't want to put any wrong ideas in your head."

Marcel stood up and leaned his hands on the cabinet as he stared out the window. His shoulders sagged, as if he was tired. "You know, I'm glad it's you I ended up tutoring" He chuckled. "Your curiosity seems, sometimes, like a bottomless well. I just wish it was directed at something more..."

"Proper?"

"Yes."

"Oh, well." I said, picking one of the chocolate truffles on the table and unwrapping it from its golden paper. It tasted sweet and creamy, with a caramel filling. As I was leaning back in my chair, staring at the ceiling, my mother spoke from the doorway.

"I told you to stop eating those, or you'll not fit in your dress tomorrow." She said and walked over, her heels clicking on the floor in a neat little pattern. She took small steps, like she was in a hurry somewhere but the ground was too slippery to walk with a wide stride.

"If your biggest disappointment is that I eat an extra chocolate truffle, which, by the way, is delicious, then I'd say you're doing rather well. I wouldn't worry about it."

"Excuse me?" She said. I could see her movements change, the tilt of her head turning downwards at me. Her brown eyes burned a hole at the center of my forehead, like a magnifying glass in the sun. I sat up.

"Nothing, sorry."

"When you're done, come upstairs to try the dress on and I'll make the final changes." She said and handed Marcel a stack of papers. "Marcellus. As I'm sure you know, with the promotion to Chief District overseer, Celestine is set to take her fathers position when the time comes. I want you to go over some of the subjects she has studied and produce a report, if you will, to ensure everyone of her capability for the positions."