Pansies and good neighbours

In one of the two blue Spanish pots that flank my front door were two pansy plants, one yellow and one purple.

“Not me,” Barbara said when I asked her if she’d planted them. She was ready to help me shlup my suitcase up the three flights of stairs to my flat after our traditional welcome-back-to-Argelès dinner.

The neighbour next door, who had contributed to my pathetic attempts to keep up with the flowers on the street, had moved back to Spain. I had brought back my tiny Christmas tree to plant in the pot, which I was sure was empty. By some miracle the other pot was filled with some green leaf thingie he’d planted last spring, and it had flourished over the winter despite my absence…or maybe because of it.

Walking through the marché the next day greeting people I hadn’t seen for months, Madame Martinez pushed her way up the street, a straw basket filled with artichokes, carrots and a baguette over her arm. As usual the little woman, a true Catalan, wore a housedress with a thick sweater over it. Despite a sombre appearance, she is at every street party and almost every dance or concert in the square. She also waters my plants when I am away, part out of pity for them, part out of good neighbourness. I bring her Swiss chocolate.

When I had left in the fall, she’d been in the hospital, and no one had diagnosed her problem. They had to transfer her to Montpellier. Over the winter I thought of her frequently. I hadn’t seen her husband or her sons since I’d returned and even if I had I would have been afraid to ask.

We kissed on both cheeks, and I told her how pleased I was to see her. Sometimes when we talk my American accent and her Catalan one make repetition necessary. I asked if she knew who had donated the pansies.

She put her hand to her chest. “My son gave me a lot. I thought you would like two.”

I thanked her profusely, wondering if she knew she would be in charge of them on my return to Geneva.

She and I may have different accents, but we do speak good neighbour language. My Christmas tree can wait to be planted.