French Husband's niece was eleven years old when I first met her, twenty three years ago. It was the first time I was to meet his family, we were going to have lunch at his sister's home.
The white, monogrammed tablecloth was set with antique, wine glasses, the silverware was lined-up a mile long next to the Limoges plates, and a large, soup tureen transformed into a vase was filled full of flowers and sat in the center of the dining room table. The tabletop carried a conversation with my attention, as French husband's family chattered away in French, leaving me in silence, soaking up the details with clueless wonder. We were waiting for Juliette to come downstairs, she was late… though later I would understand being late was set up for her stage of entrance.
I remembered that day crystal clear, not because of the beautiful home of French Husband's sister, nor his family that fearsomely loved their son-brother-uncle named Yann, so much so, that they couldn't help looking at me with trepidation… No, what I remember best is Juliette coming downstairs, wearing a colorful, silk headband wrapped around her forehead, holding her long, dark hair in place. She was captivating, original, and a breath of fresh air to the stuffiness I felt in that room.
Juliette spoke perfect english, better than French Husband's. I stared at her in disbelief, her voice was music to my ears, and she was only eleven years old! I looked at French Husband as to say what gives? I asked her where she had learned to speak english. Juliette told me that she was in love with Michael Jackson, his style, his dance and his music. Juliette went on to say that whenever she had some money she would buy a single of his, then listen to it over and over again, while following along with the lyrics written on the back. Then she would look up the words in the dictionary, memorize them, and then recreate other sentences with them. Michael Jackson was her hero, and my new found hero that day.
Michael Jackson's music taught my niece how to speak english, and with that gave me my first "friend" in France.
Juliette is sad today. Though today I smile on that sweet memory of her love affair with his music, and thank him for it.
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