Francine & Margot ✓

2

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Margot,

Do you remember our first real kiss?

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Reuniting with you was like music; It was as euphoric to me as it was natural.

I wanted to see you every day, every hour. You were magnetic and no matter what, I always found myself rotating everything around you like you were the sun.

Even though you were always thrilled to be with me, I couldn't help but wonder if our feelings were the same. We'd never breathed a word of it, despite the handfuls of gentle affection we'd carefully exchanged for years. I certainly wasn't brave enough to confess anything, and you either weren't any braver or didn't have anything of the sort to say.

My parents had gone out for the evening, for dinner and dancing. I was happy to bid them good riddance after all their nagging that day. It had been a constant, vicious repetition of the same vile phrase: "Practice, practice, practice!" I could not understand the urgency. Of course I knew I was to play for the Chancellor, but it didn't matter to me. In a world at war, the most important thing was piano.

I played because I loved it, not because I wanted some man to love it. I was so ignorant.

Knowing my parents would be gone at 5 o'clock, you were at my door by 5:15. You were wearing high pants and a button down blouse, looking too radiant for yourself. I couldn't bear to tell you I'd be leaving you again, so shortly after we'd reacquainted.

You sat on the piano and asked me to play for you. I rolled my eyes. "Do I have to?"

You shook her head. "Don't play for your parents. Play for me." That was easier. There was music playing in me every time I saw you.

I'd been playing for as long as I could remember, so the sounds of the keys and I were too intimately entwined for me to read music. My parents called me immodest for it.

I felt a nervous lump in my throat and my hands nearly shook. Suddenly I had no idea what music was in my head. You could see my nervousness and smiled. "Don't be nervous. You don't have to play if you don't want to."

I smiled back at you. "Of course I want to." I wanted to tell you with music everything I could never bring myself to put into words. I laid my fingers on the keys and found the note in my head. Before I had any idea what I was going to do, I began.

The music fell from my hands like water, filling the room. It was a loud, bright, strong melody, stronger than my words could ever be. You were sitting just above me, not an inch away, and my entire side buzzed at the knowledge of your careful presence.

Your hand touched my chin and gently guided my chin up to look at her. Flustered beyond thought, my song began to dwindle. I looked into your blue eyes and smiled.

You were blushing. "That's beautiful, Francine." You inhaled nervously, and I wondered if we were imagining the same crescendo. Finally, you leaned forward and down, your face painfully close.

You looked down at my lips and I knew this was the biggest moment of bravery I'd ever have. I leaned forward and kissed you, and it felt different from any other little kisses we'd exchanged before. This was like falling off a cliff and flying through the air.

Your hand still gently cupping my cheek, you carefully kissed me with her soft lips. I could feel my face turning a brighter and brighter red, but I relaxed into you and told myself not to think.

We kissed for only a moment, or for hours, and you withdrew first. "Francine," you began, your eyes full of worry.

I stopped you. "Don't say anything. I just want to enjoy this moment with you." I looked into your eyes, then darted back down to looking at your soft smile.

"No, Fran. I'm going to lose you. I know it and I don't want you to keep it from me." You were desperate and tearful.

I shook my head. I hadn't wanted to discuss this with you, but I couldn't help but understand. "I'll just be leaving for a little while to play at some galas. I'll be back. I won't leave again." I didn't know what to say.

My parents told me that keeping our presence positive with Hitler was essential. They told me that for me to play well was a matter of life and death. They told me that it wasn't as simple as renouncing their faith and changing our family name. They put all of the pressure they felt onto my shoulders and I was sinking.

Tears fell from my eyes and I offered only a shattered sigh. "I don't want to go."

You moved to sit on the bench next to me and wrapped one arm around my waist, the other hand gently cradling my neck. "So don't go! Stay with me. My family is safe."

I cried harder. "I can't abandon my family. I have to go."

You sighed. "I understand. Do what you have to, but I hope you find it in your heart to return to me." You kissed me again, and it felt like you were saying goodbye.

Yours,
Francine

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