Legacy-the old door
Mrs. Mercier walks past below on the street and, noticing her there, waves.
“How is your little one? Is she better?”
“Yes, it was just a cold. How are you?”
“Very well. Jacqueline and Marcel are going to go pick strawberries next week. If you all want to come, just let me know.”
She runs a hand across her forehead catching the sweat.
“ I’m just back from the dry cleaners; Yves’s suit still smells. They tell me they can’t do anything about it. Ooh, yeah, I said “I’ll do something about it, they’ve never heard of tomato juice to remove the stink of skunk?” and with her everlasting hat askew, the neighbour walks off, leaving her to chuckle tenderly.
A few feet away, Mrs Duval crosses Mrs Mercier’s path and points to the balcony, demonstrating again how this woman does not “have the sense she was born with, at all hours of the day, in an old apron or a dressing gown, at the front of her house!” referring to the fact that such a display was usually undertaken on the back porch where one could do chores and look less than presentable without offending passersby.
“Well”, answers Mrs. Mercier, “she can’t help it- she’s French! She’s a country girl.” As the two women ponder that remark for a moment she adds, “you know how they are, all hospitable and à la bonne franquette.”
“Do you mean more à la va comme j’te pousse?”
“No, they don’t stand on manners, that’s all! Anyways, I like her.” and they walk on.