Janine sighed. She knew from experience exactly how Helene must have felt. She also knew that Rena really believed Helene had not minded. Rena was never intentionally rude or unkind, she just didn’t understand. “Well, go on. What happened next?”
“Jenny, he was a perfect gentleman. He took me back here and didn’t even try to come up. The next day he called me and we went dancing. After that he started seeing me every few days. But he’s very jealous. Every time I talk to a man he watches me. And he doesn’t want me to go to cafes alone!” Rena complained.
Janine smiled. She had a hunch that if she were Rena’s boy friend she would feel the same way. “What does Mark do for a living?” she asked.
“Research. At least this year he has some sort of grant to do math here in Paris. You and he will have something to talk about,” Rena added.
Janine somehow doubted that Mark would be eager to discuss anything with his fiancee’s sister. Their first encounter had not been promising. Of course, Janine could easily understand his reluctance to drop everything and meet her at the airport. Still, he could have been polite. But all she said was, “Perhaps. By the way, how is Helene?”
“Fine, I guess. Lately I haven’t seen much of her. She teaches school and still hasn’t found a steady boy friend. She lives with her family just outside of Paris, in Palaiseau-dull, stuffy people. But knowing you, you’ll probably get along perfectly with them!”
By now Janine had learned to accept Rena’s way of looking at people. Also, she realized that Rena did envy her ability to get along with all sorts of people. Janine was looking forward to meeting Helene’s family. It was one of the subjects her reticent friend had never discussed. Janine knew there was a brother named Jacques and a sister but that was all.
Rena’s voice broke into her thoughts. “You must be tired. Why don’t you lie down for a while? I’ll call you when dinner is ready. You can use my bed.”
“I am a bit worn out,” Janine admitted gratefully.
Several hours later, Janine woke up, coming out of a dream about people shouting. Gradually she realized at least one of the voices was real. It was Rena’s, of course. Rena was upset with someone-almost certainly a man. Had Rena been angry with a woman her voice would have been sharper, more self-assured, and definitely less hurt. Janine privately doubted that Rena was capable of being hurt by a woman. Suddenly the sound of a receiver being slammed cut off the shouting. Debating for a moment, Janine decided to get up. Yawning, she walked into the living room. “Is everything okay?” she asked.
In the past, after a fight with a boy friend, Rena had always sought out Janine’s shoulder to cry on. Now, Janine realized, Rena might not feel the same. But in spite of the time apart, Rena had not changed. “Mark was so nasty! I asked him to find a friend for you so that the four of us could go around Paris tomorrow and he was horrible. He said he was not about to babysit or play tour guide or drag any friend of his into it. And he said he knew it would degenerate into a shopping expedition and he had nothing he needed to buy. He even said that I made him waste today but tomorrow he intended to do math. Oh, Jenny, he prefers math to me!”
For a few moments Janine was silent. Then she said, “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course he prefers you to math. I suspect it’s me he doesn’t like.” She hurried on to forestall another outburst. “Besides, he probably assumes we have a lot to talk about and figures we’ll be too busy with each other to notice anyone else. He probably suspects that the parts of Paris that would interest us would bore him.”
“I suppose, but he didn’t have to be so rude!”
Janine managed not to comment on Rena’s own temper and changed the subject. “Can I help with dinner?”
The rest of the evening was somewhat blurred for Janine. Despite the short nap, she was still very tired and her thoughts kept returning to Phil. She wasn’t sure which hurt more: her pride or her heart. Surely it was silly to grieve over an affair that so clearly had to be ended. Why couldn’t she simply forget him?
Janine went to bed early on the living-room couch, afraid her thoughts would keep her awake. But she was asleep long before the typewriter in the other room ceased clacking, and she never even heard Rena’s quiet crying.
The next morning, Janine and Rena left the apartment early. “To have a real French `petit dejeuner.”’ Rena had said. They stopped at a patisserie to buy fresh butter croissants, then went to a cafe to drink cafe au lait and enjoy the delectable croissants. The cafe, Les Deux Magots, was one the surrealists had once frequented. Down the street was a rival cafe once known as a favorite spot of Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir.
The day promised to be warm and sunny, weather that did nothing to dispel Janine’s romantic illusions of Paris. The cafe was on the Place St. Germain des Pres, across from the church St. Germain. There was a small, quiet park on one side of the church and another on the other side. A few men and women were already setting up booths to sell clothes, jewelry, and plaques on the street corner. Janine noticed that her sister’s eyes kept straying to a place called Le Drugstore. It was obviously a place to eat as well as a store. Vaguely she remembered hearing that it was supposed to be very American. Janine realized with a smile that it was just the sort of place Rena would have preferred. That they were at a cafe instead was clearly a concession to Janine. There were many ways in which their tastes differed, and they had not always been so considerate of each other. Janine made a mental note not to drag Rena to any museums. There would be plenty of time to explore them after Rena had left for Switzerland.
Several men, passing the cafe, found themselves looking at Janine carefully, not quite certain what it was that had caught their eye. She was not beautiful, nor even pretty in the ordinary sense of the word. That was it; she was unusual. She had long blonde hair and large, disturbing hazel eyes that could vary from blue to green to gray. Her lashes were barely visible, however, and her nose too small and tilted-up for a classic face. But above all, it was her smile that mattered. When she smiled her eyes twinkled, her cheeks became fuller, and one wanted to stop and share her happiness. When Janine laughed, few people noticed anyone she was with.
Janine was sipping her coffee when Rena’s excited voice cut across her thoughts. “Alan! What are you doing here`? How are you?”
Glancing up, Janine saw two young men, both obviously American. One was blond, and tall, almost lanky, with a boyish grin. As they sat down, he spoke first. “I thought I’d find you here. Mark mentioned your sister was in town and looked like the type who would enjoy cafes. He didn’t tell me she was younger than you.”
Janine shifted in her seat uncomfortably at the reminder of how young she looked. “Actually, I am two years older than Rena,” she said, smiling a little too sweetly. “My name is Janine.”
“Incredible!” Alan responded. “I thought you were maybe seventeen. Still, Sandy and I are older.”
For the first time, the other fellow spoke. He was about Janine’s height, with light brown hair and sober green eyes. “Alan is not tactful by nature,” he said, “and he rarely tries to improve on nature. I am, of course, Sandy. Like you, Jenny, I’m new in Paris. In case you’re curious, I’m twenty-six and Alan is twentyfour. I can also supply height, weight, and shoe size.”
Rena and Janine laughed. “Hardly necessary,” Rena said. “Hey! Would you two like to look around Paris with us today?”
Still seated, Alan managed a half bow. “That’s why we’re here. Mark warned us you were going sightseeing so I thought we might join forces. What shall we see first? Notre Dame? The Louvre? Montmartre? The ChampsElysees? The Eiffel Tower?”
“The Eiffel Tower!” Sandy and Rena exclaimed together.
Alan glanced at Janine, who smiled and nodded. After paying the bill, they decided to walk to the tower. As they walked, Rena managed to brief Janine. Alan was an “old friend” who was a student in Paris. He was enrolled in the medical school but actually spent most of his time studying women. She was less sure about Sandy, but
she thought Alan had said he was the son of a very wealthy businessman. Apparently he had been in his father’s firm for a couple of years. And, oh yes, his father felt it was time Sandy married and was prepared to be generous if he chose the right woman.
The Eiffel Tower was impressive but hardly beautiful. Sandy, moving next to Janine, remarked that most of the people waiting in line for the elevator seemed American.
As Janine smiled, he added, “You’re really lovely when you smile like that. You don’t look at all like a math teacher.”
For a moment Janine was startled, then she realized Alan must have briefed Sandy. “What do math teachers look like?” she demanded.
“Prim and proper,” he teased, “and totally unapproachable.”
“You hardly make us sound human!” protested Janine.
“One of them, at least, is quite human. Of that I’m sure!” he said, regarding her seriously.
Janine was flustered and felt her pulse racing. You must be really out of practice, she told herself sternly, to react like this. You’ve just met him and he is just being pleasant.
Janine was saved from having to answer by the arrival of the elevator. Rena and Alan suddenly seemed to remember the other two and they spent the next few minutes chattering eagerly about the tower. Alan began to spout off facts.”.. .built in 1889, and can you imagine? Lots of people opposed it because they said it was ugly. Ugly! But…”
At the top, looking out over Paris, Janine saw that the city was larger than she had realized. She felt a kind of wild exhilaration tempered by a sudden shyness. Sandy, she knew, was watching her carefully, and Janine tried to guess his thoughts. Did he think she seemed very young? Unfeminine? No, more by instinct than experience, she realized Sandy saw her as a woman and would have been surprised to learn she doubted her attractiveness. Janine suddenly realized he even considered her more attractive than Rena.
“What are you thinking?” Sandy asked.
Incurably forthright, Janine responded immediately, “Just thinking that for the first time in my life I’m not jealous of Rena.”
“Why should you envy Rena?” Sandy demanded.
“Because I’m the pretty one!” Rena broke in.
It was Sandy’s turn to be startled. He looked at Rena carefully, searching for signs of malice. There were none, of course. Rena was just saying what the two sisters believed to be the truth. Sandy stood there thoughtfully, not answering.
“C’mon,” Rena said to her sister. “Alan and I agree that the next place to visit is the ChampsElysees. We can have a snack at Le Drugstore.”
“Can you see the ChampsElysees from here?” Sandy asked.
“Sure. Over there,” Alan said, pointing.
Dutifully, Janine stretched with the others to look. Somehow the mood was broken. It’s too soon, her emotions protested, to become attached to any man. I need time to get over Phil. I don’t want to be hurt again.
Suddenly she was calm, aware there was no need to panic. Sandy was clearly just trying to be friendly. What she had taken for attraction to her was just a light flirtation natural to a man like Sandy. Relieved, Janine joined Rena in commenting on the view.
Janine was even calm enough that when, in the elevator going down, Sandy put his arm around her laughingly, she didn’t draw away. “Hey!” Alan exclaimed, seeing the gesture, “me too!”
“What about me?” Rena demanded.
Both men obligingly put their free arms around Rena and the four of them stood laughing.
Their spirits were irrepressible as they walked, arm in arm, four abreast, up the Avenue lena toward 1’Arc de Triomphe de l’Etoile. It was, however, a section of town well accustomed to tourists and few people bothered to stare. To Janine, her first view of the ChampsElysees was disappointing. “It’s so…so commercial!” she complained.
Alan nodded. “Only here, though. Farther down it becomes a tree-lined avenue. Near the Jardin des Tuileries especially.”
“There,” Rena broke in, pointing. “Le Drugstore. My feet are hurting and I want a hamburger!”
Without waiting to see if the others would follow, Rena started forward at a brisk pace. A man on each arm, Janine followed more leisurely. Le Drugstore was, as usual, very crowded. The four squeezed around a small table. It was clear from the menu that Le Drugstore did indeed pride itself on being “American.” With resignation, Janine ordered a hamburger and Coke along with the others.
“How long will you be in Paris, Jenny?” Alan asked after the food arrived.
“I’m not sure,” she answered. “The school year doesn’t start until September, of course, so I could stay until then. But I don’t know if I will. I think I’ll visit a few other countries in Europe, but I’m not sure which or when. I must sound pretty disorganized but I…” She stopped, abruptly aware that she did not want to discuss Phil. “I had a lot on my mind until just before I came.
It sounded lame even to Janine and Rena, guessing the problem, jumped in. “How long are you staying in Paris, Sandy?”
“I don’t know either. My father said to stay a few months and gave me plenty to live on. I’m supposed to visit most of Western Europe but, like Jenny, I don’t know when I’ll go where. Depends on what I find to keep me here. To tell you the truth, I don’t see the point of traipsing all over Europe visiting countries where I can’t speak the language and don’t know anyone who does. At least in Paris Alan can always help me out. So I suppose I’ll spend most of my time in Paris. I can always read about the countries I don’t get to. Dad’ll ask me lots of questions, of course, but he’s never been to Europe so I can get away with it.”
“How is your article coming, Rena?” Alan asked, changing the subject.
“Fine,” Rena answered hastily, happy not to have to respond to Sandy’s surprising declaration.
“She’s writing about the French educational system,” Alan explained to Sandy.
“I finally got the interview I needed yesterday and I should have the thing polished off in a few more days,” Rena continued. “Of course, Jenny being here is a good excuse to goof off.”
They all laughed, and then Rena delivered a lecture on the differences between French and American schools.
It was with relief that Janine stepped out of the noisy Drugstore a little later. “Where to next?” Alan demanded. “Walk to the Tuileries along the ChampsElysees?”
“No!” Rena protested. “My feet are killing me. I don’t know about Jenny, but I’m taking the Metro back to St. Germain des Pres right now.”
“I am tired,” Janine admitted. “I think I’ll go back with you, Rena.”
“Well, then, I guess we’ll have to split up,” Alan said. “Sandy and I are going to keep going. What are you planning for tomorrow?”
“Marche aux Puces,” Rena answered.
“You’re on your own!” Alan said emphatically. He turned to Sandy. “If I know Rena, they’ll spend hours there.”
“Maybe we can get together in a few days,” Sandy suggested, looking at Janine. “I’ll call.”
Janine was relieved to find the Metro cleaner, quieter, and more efficient than the New York City subway system.
“You’ll find,” Rena explained, “that no matter where you want to go in Paris, you can get there either by bus, Metro, or walking.”
“Speaking of walking,” Janine said, “how can Alan intend to keep going?”
Rena smiled shrewdly. “I suspect that `sightseeing’ means finding a cafe and sitting and watching the women go by.”
“And hoping to pick one up?” Janine hazarded.
“You’ve figured out Alan, all right,” Rena answered laughingly. “Yes, that’s his favorite pastime, and his girl friend just has to get used to it.”
Tired, they were both quiet until it was time to change trains at Chatelet. “We’re lucky,” Rena said, “it’s a `short’ change. Sometimes you have to walk forever to get from one line to another. By the way, I hope you don’t mind, but I’d like to get off at Ode
on and stop at the market on our way back to the apartment. We’ll have to go sometime today and there’s no point in climbing those stairs more than we have to.”
“Fine,” Janine said emphatically, remembering the stairs.
“I think you’ll like the market. It’s one of the really nice things about Paris.”
As they turned onto rue de Seine, Janine’s first impression was of confusion. All along the street men were carrying boxes in or out of shops. People were clustered here and there; others wandered around, crossing back and forth across the street. And cars tried to squeeze between those parked on both sides of the street.
“Wander around,” Rena suggested, “I’ll take care of the shopping.”
Left alone, Janine tried to sort out the different types of shops. There were dairies, supermarkets, butchers, fishmongers, a flower dealer, and four fruit and vegetable stands, whose owners competed in advertising their wares by shouting. The market continued around the corner, with another butcher, dairy, and two flower stalls, as well as a bakery, two charcuteries, and the inevitable cafes.
Janine was still looking around when Rena spotted her. “Here,” she said, dumping a pile of packages in Janine’s arms, “I forgot my basket. I’ll be back in a minute. I still have to get something for supper.”
It was closer to five minutes later that Rena reappeared carrying milk under one arm and some cheese and a chicken in the other. “Supermarche is out of bags again,” Rena explained. “Now we just have to get some bread.”
It seemed to Janine they must present a comic sight as they walked along juggling food. “People are used to it,” Rena responded when Janine voiced her thoughts aloud. “The real problem will be the stairs.”
Somehow they managed the spiral staircase, but both were out of breath when they reached the fifth floor. Rena fumbled in her pockets and finally found her keys. “I’ve learned not to carry them in my purse. Too hard to find if I do,” she explained.
Laughing, Janine entered first, abruptly halting as she saw Mark sitting on the daybed reading. “What is it?” Rena demanded, looking over Janine’s shoulder. “Mark!”
Paris Summer Page 2