Paris Summer

by April Lynn Kihlstrom

  As Rena had predicted, the Marche aux Puces was very crowded. To Janine’s annoyance, Rena quickly disappeared after saying, “Look around. I’ll meet you back here at the bridge at three o’clock.”

  The afternoon was spoiled further for Janine by the amount of attention she drew, attention that seemed inexplicable to her until she finally decided that it must be because she was alone. Perhaps Frenchmen assumed any woman alone in such a place was looking for male companionship. By three o’clock, Janine had learned all the various ways Frenchmen might try to attract the attention of a woman. Only a few went so far as to actually try to begin a conversation. Since a large number of Frenchmen spoke English, it was not sufficient to pretend one did not speak French. Janine finally took refuge in pretending to be Finnish. A greeting in Finnish daunted even the most persistent male. Nevertheless, Janine greeted Rena with relief when she appeared at three-thirty, a half hour late.

  “Find anything?” Rena asked.

  “No,” Janine answered stonily. “I gather you did, though. You know, Rena, I wish you hadn’t disappeared like that. It was a bit awkward being by myself.”

  “Men?” Rena asked shrewdly. When Janine nodded, she laughed. “They don’t mean any harm. Actually, I find the attention flattering. Anyway, look what I found.”

  Rena held up a large porcelain cat. It was black with cream-colored ears and paws and shrewd green eyes, seated with its tail curled around its feet.

  “Well, can we go now?” Janine demanded. “I have a headache.”

  The long Metro ride back to St. Germain did nothing to soothe Janine. The train was as crowded as the market had been and much hotter. When she and Rena reached the apartment building and found Sandy waiting on the stairs, Janine was not happy to see him. But Sandy was oblivious to her mood. “Timed it just right,” he said, grinning. “I figured you’d be tired out by now. How was the market?”

  Janine was too tired to reply, but Rena happily chattered about her cat as she unlocked the door. Setting her purchase on the telephone table, she turned it to face the couch. “I bought it to keep an eye on Jenny while I’m gone. I think I’ll call him Ralph!”

  “Better not try anything while he’s around,” Sandy said to Janine.

  “No!” Rena protested. “I bought him to protect Jenny. You’re the one who had better be careful, Sandy.”

  Janine was not amused by the assumption Sandy would be a frequent visitor to the apartment. Aloud she said, “Why are you here, Sandy?”

  “Because you are,” he replied promptly. “I came to take you out to dinner, Jenny. At Paul Chene.”

  “It’s a little early for dinner,” Rena pointed out.

  “I know,” he said cheerfully. “I’m on my way to an art gallery to pick up something my father ordered. But I thought I’d stop here first. I wanted to make sure I caught you before you made plans for dinner. I’ll pick you up at seven o’clock, Jenny. Okay?” He paused long enough for Janine to nod then said, “See you then. ‘Bye.”

  As Janine watched him run down the stairs, Rena tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I think you’ve made a conquest, Jenny. Or at least you will if you’re careful. Paul Chene. I think you should wear your blue chiffon tonight and…”

  “Rena!”

  “All right. It’s none of my business. Still, I do think you ought to wear the chiffon. You haven’t anything else appropriate. And can I help you fix your hair?”

  Janine sighed. “Okay. But the makeup and jewelry I do myself”

  Thanks to Rena fussing over her, it took Janine almost the entire three hours to get ready. Naturally Rena was dissatisfied with her sister’s makeup, but Janine was pleased with the effect. And she declined Rena’s offer to let her use a little of her “sensuous” perfume. She was slipping on a pair of dressy sandals when the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it!” Rena cried, and hurried out of the bedroom.

  Janine could hear Rena’s voice clearly. “Hi, Sandy! Jenny’s almost ready.”

  Feeling somewhat nervous, Janine paused in the doorway to the living room. Sandy noticed her and gave a low whistle, and Janine felt tempted to respond in kind. Sandy was dressed in a dark brown corduroy suit that emphasized an almost ideal build. Under the jacket was a green turtleneck that matched the green of his eyes. When Sandy smiled the effect was devastating. “Shall we go?” he asked politely.

  Janine nodded. Rena immediately produced a lacy blue shawl. “Don’t keep her out too late!” she called as they started down the stairs.

  Without turning, Sandy lifted a hand. “No later than she wants,” he retorted. Bending toward Janine, he said softly, “You smell wonderful. Incidentally, I borrowed Alan’s car for this evening.”

  Alan’s car looked very familiar, Janine thought as they approached it. When Sandy held the door open on the passenger side, Janine had to choke back an exclamation. Yes, the car was very familiar indeed, right down to the leopard-skin seat covers. So it hadn’t been Mark’s car. Well, it did seem to fit Alan’s taste better than Mark’s.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Sandy asked as he got into the car. “Especially these seat covers. I’ve already ordered a car just like it. It’ll be ready in a couple of weeks, and I can use it to travel around Europe. Then, when I go back home, I save a bundle because it’s used. Bet my father’ll be jealous. Of course, as a businessman, he has to stick to something more sedate like a Cadillac or a Lincoln Continental.”

  “Aren’t you a businessman, too?” Janine asked.

  He grinned. “Sure. But I’m a young businessman. I’m expected to be just a little daring. Of course, once I’m married, I’ll have to have a second car for my wife, and that one will be more conservative. Just like I’ll have to give up my apartment and get a house in the suburbs. One with a big yard for barbecues and things.”

  “You seem to have it all worked out, Sandy. Suppose your wife has different ideas?”

  “She won’t,” Sandy said confidently. “My wife won’t have anything to worry about except me and the kids.”

  Janine was amused. “Kids? Have you decided how many?”

  Sandy nodded. “Yup. Two… a boy and a girl.”

  This was too much for Janine. She burst out laughing. “Mother Nature may have something to say about that!”

  Sandy frowned. “Don’t you like kids, Jenny?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good,” he said as though satisfied.

  Suddenly uncomfortable, Janine stopped laughing. And neither she nor Sandy broke the silence that followed. It was not until they were seated at Paul Chene that Sandy said anything. “Aperitif?” he asked.

  She shook her head. Sandy frowned. “But wine with dinner, surely?”

  “Of course.”

  Sandy nodded approvingly. “Actually, I’m glad you’re cautious. I find the sight of someone who is tipsy rather vulgar. I hope you don’t mind if I order, Jenny. Alan recommended several things I thought we might try.

  Janine thought the idea a good one. Looking around, she noted that the small dining room was tastefully furnished. It gave an effect of quiet but stopped short of intimacy, which was ideal as far as Janine was concerned.

  After the wine steward had brought a wine he approved of, Sandy turned his full attention to Janine. “Now,” he commanded, “tell me about yourself.”

  “What about me?” she asked.

  “Everything. Your family, your childhood, your interests. Men in your life. Past, present, and future. What you think of me.”

  “That’s asking quite a bit, isn’t it?” Janine asked.

  “True. But I am interested.”

  “What about your life?” Janine countered.

  “Ladies first.” He smiled. “Take your time …we have all evening.”

  “All right. Let’s see. I was born in Columbus, Ohio, and grew up there. I went to Ohio State and got a Master’s Degree in math at the age of twenty-one and have been teaching ever since at Westchester Community College.” She paused as the sou
p was served. “My father is an engineer and my mother is a housewife. I have only one sister, Rena. I like sewing, cooking, reading, camping, hiking, fishing, swimming, skiing, dancing, horseback riding, art galleries, museums, old churches, old houses, forests, amusement parks, old books, old engravings, boats, planes, trains, restaurants, movies-”

  “Enough, enough!” Sandy broke in, laughing. “I get the idea. You like most things, I gather. So it should be safe to ask if you like dinner.”

  “Mmm, this trout is delicious,” she answered truthfully. Perhaps it was because of the wine, but she felt warm all over, and completely relaxed.

  “Continue,” Sandy commanded. “What are your ambitions? How do you see yourself?”

  Strangely uninhibited, Janine talked freely. “I’d like to keep teaching math. I enjoy it and get along with my students. But I suppose I hope I’ll eventually marry and probably have children. I won’t want to give up my career, but I’m the sort of person who needs someone to share things with, and I like children.”

  “What sort of wife would you make?” Sandy asked.

  “Warm, loving, and loyal. Intelligent enough for my husband to talk to. Oh, I don’t know. And I feel very strange talking about it.” Janine hesitated. “It’s odd. Usually I am much more shy with men. I tend to be a very shy sort of person.”

  Sandy seemed pleased. “I take that as a good sign. The fact that you can talk with me so easily, I mean. You mentioned men. Have there been many men? Is there one now?”

  Janine looked at him sharply. “That’s none of your business, you know.”

  “I know. I am curious, though. Is there someone now?”

  She shook her head. “Not anymore. I found out he was married. About a month ago. In a way, that’s why I’m here. I was rather upset. There hadn’t been many men before Phil, you see. I was an easy target for him. Rena invited me to visit her, and I packed up and came the minute school was over.”

  “Still upset?” Sandy asked.

  “No.” With amazement, Janine realized it was true. Phil no longer bothered her.

  “Paris is having a good effect on you, then,” Sandy said seriously.

  “Your turn,” Janine said quickly, unaccountably afraid of what might otherwise be said.

  He laughed. “Okay. Well, I was born in Chicago and from seven on grew up in the suburbs. I got a B. A. from the University of Chicago and joined my father in business. My mother died about five years ago, and I am an only child.”

  “I’m sorry about your mother,” Janine said, wishing there were something less trite she could think of to say.

  Sandy laughed bitterly. “Don’t be. She married my father when he was just starting and very poor. She couldn’t adjust to his success… being somewhat of a fool, you see. When we moved to Wilmette, she was very unhappy and couldn’t fit in. To be honest, in her last few years she was usually drunk. She hated me because she knew I wanted to be like my father. I quickly learned not to bring girls home because she’d start telling them to stay away from me…that I’d only make them unhappy. Then she’d start screaming about my father and-”

  Janine reached out and touched his arm. “You don’t have to tell me, Sandy. I’m sorry I asked.”

  As though suddenly aware of where he was, Sandy relaxed visibly and forced himself to speak more calmly. “No, it’s all right. I wanted to tell you.” He clenched a fist. “But when I marry, it’ll be to someone very different from my mother. Someone more intelligent, someone who can fit into my life-style.”

  They were both quiet, waiting for dessert. At last Janine broke the silence. “Well, tell me. What sorts of things do you like?”

  Sandy smiled and leaned back, less upset now. “Hunting and fishing, skiing and swimming, cars and women. I like to watch football and baseball, go to restaurants and movies, and kiss lovely blondes.”

  Janine laughed. “Do I count as `lovely’?”

  Sandy pretended to study her carefully before nodding. She is lovely, he thought, and definitely a lady. “You should wear blue often,” he said aloud. “Tonight your eyes almost look blue.”

  “Have there been many lovely blondes in your life?” Janine asked.

  “Blondes, brunettes, and redheads,” he answered. “I won’t kid you, Jenny. There have been lots of women in my past. One or two I was serious about. But somehow things never worked out…why, I don’t know. But right now there’s no one else. Whether there is anyone at all is up to you, Jenny.”

  He spoke gently, and Janine felt herself blushing deeply. He couldn’t mean what he seemed to mean? Surely Sandy was just giving her a line? He was obviously experienced enough to do so. As if aware of Janine’s embarrassment, Sandy changed the subject and began talking about the painting his father had bought. Gradually Janine relaxed as they discussed favorite artists.

  It was Sandy who first realized the time-almost midnight. They had long since finished their Cointreau and coffee. The waiters, however, were discreet, and no one had come to remind them they should leave. “Come, I’ll take you home,” Sandy said.

  She nodded and inexplicably they both felt shy. The silence stretched, not breaking even when Sandy helped Janine out of the car on rue Bonaparte. At the bottom of the staircase, Janine turned to Sandy. “I won’t make you climb all those stairs. It was a wonderful evening, Sandy.”

  “It was, wasn’t it?” He smiled. “Just one thing left.”

  He reached out and pulled her to him. Gently tilting her chin up with one hand, he kissed her firmly and carefully, and Janine found herself responding. “Good night,” Sandy said as he released her at last.

  “Good night,” Janine answered, hesitating only a moment before she fled up the stairs.

  The next morning, as she dressed to go out for croissants, Rena asked Janine to fix coffee. “No time for a leisurely breakfast at a cafe today,” she explained. “I’ve got to pack. I finished the article last night, and I’m leaving for Geneva tomorrow morning. As it is, I’ll probably have to mail my article from Switzerland.”

  Over breakfast Janine asked, “What time is your plane? Shall I go out to the airport with you?”

  “Eleven A.M.No, don’t bother. Mark will drive me out there. I can’t wait to be in Switzerland!”

  “What will you be writing about there?”

  “Just the usual sort of travel thing: what to do and see in Geneva. It’s sort of a trial thing. Mademoiselle says that if they like this article I’ll have a monthly column on travel in Europe. It would pay well enough to cover the rent on this apartment, and of course Mademoiselle would pay my travel expenses. As a matter of fact, they’re paying for this trip. Oh, Jenny, the work would be a lot of fun because I wouldn’t just cover lots of stuffy museums; I’d be reporting on places people our age like to visit.”

  “Sounds great!” Janine said enthusiastically. “Sometimes I envy you, Rena. Living in Paris, having a fiance and an exciting career. Seems perfect to me.”

  “Oh, Jenny!” Rena said in dismay. “You’ve got a good job, too, and isn’t New York City exciting? Didn’t your date with Sandy go well? You came in kind of late.”

  Janine smiled wryly. “A little too well, I think. We had a nice evening, and he kissed me good night.”

  “Great!”

  “I don’t know. I’m confused about how I feel. But I’ll say this, Sandy sure does know how to kiss!”

  “You see what I mean?” Rena insisted. “Everything is going great!”

  Janine laughed, unable to resist Rena’s arguments any longer. “If you say so. Do you need help with your packing?”

  “No,” Rena replied firmly. “Why don’t you go to a museum’? Maybe the Louvre. It’s free on Sunday and knowing you, you’d feel guilty if you left Paris without visiting it at least once.”

  “Well, if you’re sure you won’t need help…” Janine said doubtfully, aware of her sister’s dislike for and ineptitude at packing.

  “I’m sure. I’ve improved.” Rena laughed, as though mindr
eading. “Besides, Mark will probably come over to say good-bye, and frankly I’d prefer having the apartment to ourselves.”

  “All right. How late should I stay out? Should I telephone before I come back?” she teased.

  “No, no. Just give us until five o’clock when the Louvre closes. Now scat!”

  The bouquinistes along the Seine were already open when Janine reached the quaff. She paused for a moment, leaning on the low wall overlooking the Seine, absorbing the view. Below was a wide sidewalk slightly above water level, and many people were taking advantage of the warm day by sitting on the walk and dangling their feet in the water. Others were stretched out, taking a nap, and here and there couples strolled, totally absorbed in each other. To the left was a sturdy bridge full of traffic, to the right a footbridge. Without hesitation, Janine decided to cross by the footbridge. She walked toward it slowly, stopping at every bookstall to thumb through engravings or old books or old manuscripts. Janine was oblivious to the Sunday strollers surging and ebbing around her. Shade trees added to her sense of peace, and she walked little more than a hundred feet in the first hour. Then, abruptly, Janine found herself at the footbridge, the Pont des Arts. Remembering the Louvre, she walked quickly up the few steps and then paused to survey the scene in front of her. An old man was turning the handle of an old-fashioned music box as he sat on a bench by the left railing. To the right a young woman had set up an easel and was concentrating on capturing the scene on the quaff. As Janine reached the mid-point of the bridge she joined a cluster of people, who were watching two young men drawing portraits on the pavement in chalk. Another was writing poetry.

  Feeling very happy, Janine hurried over the rest of the bridge to the Louvre. There was an entrance to the museum under the arch just opposite the bridge. For a while Janine simply wandered, awed at the immense size of the museum and the diversity of the exhibits. She paused to admire the Venus de Milo, then resolutely mounted the stairs toward the Winged Victory and gallery of paintings. With a sigh she made the obligatory pilgrimage to the Mona Lisa, which, to her surprise, she found disappointing.