Paris Summer
Page 5
Janine was backing away from the painting when she bumped into someone. “Excusez-moi,” she murmured.
“Of course,” was the response. She looked up with a start to see Sandy grinning at her. “Alan was right,” Sandy continued. “A museum on Sunday is the perfect place to meet women. They are usually at least moderately intelligent and assume a man must be respectable and safe if he is in a museum. Then, too, there is no need to worry about what to talk about. One knows immediately at least some of the woman’s interests by the exhibits she visits.”
Janine was considerably amused by his banter. “And, of course,” she replied, “it is a good place for a woman to meet a man. She can safely spend several hours with him and decide whether she wants to pursue the acquaintance with no hint of obligation.”
Sandy laughed. “Is that why you’re here?”
Janine shook her head. “No, I really am here to look at the exhibits. But it isn’t a bad idea, now that I think of it. Shall we split up and the next time we meet compare notes on how well we did? I wouldn’t want to spoil your chances by hanging around.”
“But I’ve already succeeded,” Sandy protested. “Unless you turn me down, of course.”
This last was spoken in an anxious tone of voice, and Janine hastened to tell Sandy she would enjoy touring the museum in his company. Smiling again, he tucked her hand under his arm, and they walked off comparing impressions of La Giaconda.
It did not take Janine long to discover that Sandy disliked museums. When she asked why he had come, he replied, “Why, I came to meet you, of course. Mark mentioned to Alan that Rena was leaving tomorrow and that he thought you would be coming to the Louvre. It seemed like the sort of thing you’d do. So I came. I knew you’d have to eventually come and look at the Mona Lisa so I found a comfortable bench and waited. Really, women are so predictable.”
Janine looked at him oddly. “I see. I’m surprised you find my company worth suffering through a museum.”
He shrugged. “Oh, I don’t mind. I suppose this sort of thing is good once in a while. Besides, if it makes you happy, I’m happy. I’m not selfish. I think a man should sometimes consider what the woman wants to do.”
Sometimes? A dangerous glint appeared in Janine’s eyes. But she spoke lightly. “I see. Well, let’s move a little faster. There’s a lot to see before five o’clock.”
Well before five o’clock, Janine found herself wishing she were not with Sandy. He managed consistently to spoil her pleasure by disparaging the paintings she enjoyed most. In the ancient Egyptian section, Sandy made jokes about each sarcophagus or statue. Her relief more than matched his when closing time came. Janine could not avoid his escort back to her sister’s apartment building, but she could and did refuse his offer to take her out to dinner. With a quick good-bye and a mumbled excuse about helping Rena, Janine fled up the stairs.
Janine paused to listen for voices before knocking. She did not want to walk in at an inopportune moment. She heard Rena’s voice clearly. “Please Mark, look after Jenny while I’m in Switzerland.”
There was a pause and Janine could not make out Mark’s answer. “I don’t care if she is twenty-two, Mark, she needs someone to keep an eye on her!”
Oh, really? Janine demanded silently. You’re a strange one to talk of needing to be looked after, Rena. Resolutely Janine rang the doorbell. The voices immediately stopped, and a moment later Rena opened the door. “Hi, Jenny. How was the Louvre?”
She forced herself to smile. “Fine. I ran into Sandy.”
From the living room Mark said, “Sandy? That’s odd. I can’t imagine him in a museum.”
Janine noted that, as usual, Mark’s hair needed combing. For some reason this irritated her. But she managed to say cheerfully, “To quote him, `It’s a good place to meet women.”’
“Did he have any luck?” Mark asked, grinning.
“He might have except that he ran into me,” she answered lightly, avoiding his eyes.
“Well, I’m sure he was satisfied,” Rena said firmly. Then, hesitantly, she added, “Jenny, I hope you don’t mind my leaving you alone this evening. There’s food in the refrigerator you can fix for yourself. Mark and I are going to his place for dinner.”
Janine smiled. “Of course I don’t mind. I’ve got lots of postcards to write anyway. Have a nice time.”
“Thanks, Jenny. I knew you’d understand. I won’t be back too late,” Rena said, moving to the door, followed by Mark.
Just as she was about to close the door, Rena stopped. “I almost forgot, Jenny. Helene called. She wants to invite you over for coffee tomorrow afternoon. Her number is on the telephone table. Give her a call tonight, okay?”
Janine nodded and smiled at Rena’s obvious eagerness to be gone. Well, she couldn’t blame her. “It must be nice to be in love,” she murmured aloud as the footsteps receded.
She immediately telephoned Helene, who was delighted to know Janine could visit the next day. “I’ll meet you at the train station,” Helene insisted, “at two o’clock. Allow about a half hour for the ride. You want the Ligne de Sceaux.”
Janine hug up, feeling rather excited. It would be good to see her friend again. After having a simple dinner, she spent the evening writing the postcards. Knowing it was useless to wait up for her sister, Janine went to bed early. She was sound asleep by the time Rena tiptoed in.
Janine woke when Rena’s alarm clock went off early the next morning. Although her sister was already packed, Janine knew from experience that the morning would be hectic. She dressed quickly and slipped out to get some croissants before Rena was fully awake. “Oh, no!” she exclaimed when she reached the bakery. “I forgot they close on Mondays.”
Annoyed, Janine was walking back to the apartment when she saw a woman carrying a baquette, a long loaf of French bread. She stopped the woman and asked, “Oh se trouve un boulangerie que est ouvert aujourd’ hui?”
The woman gave directions and Janine hurried off to purchase croissants and bread. When she got back to the apartment, Rena was sleepily fixing coffee. “I wondered where you were,” was Rena’s only comment.
Over breakfast Rena began to wake up. She had a pen and piece of paper next to her and between sips of coffee she wrote down names and telephone numbers and bits of advice she thought Janine might need. At the same time she chattered about things she might have forgotten to pack, places she intended to visit in Switzerland, and advice about Sandy. Janine listened calmly.
At ten o’clock Mark arrived. With surprising ease he managed to calm Rena and have her out of the apartment in five minutes. Noting the look of amazement on Janine’s face, he grinned at her over Rena’s head and winked. As the door shut, she sighed with relief and settled back to enjoy a second cup of coffee. She decided to eat lunch early and spend some time in the Jardin du Luxembourg before catching her train.
As promised, Helene was at the station at Palaiseau to meet her. “Allo, Helene! Comment ca va?” Janine cried when she saw her friend.
“Ca va bien. Et toi? We will walk to the house as it is very close,” Helene explained after they had greeted one another. “You will have much practice speaking French when we reach my parents’ house, so now I will speak English. Rena tells me it is over between you and Phil. Are you sorry?”
Janine sighed. “It’s over, but I’m not sorry. He was married and really only wanted a mistress. I thought he wanted a wife. I was unhappy about it at first, but I am not unhappy anymore.”
“Ali, yes. There is someone called Sandy now,” Helene said knowingly.
“Rena told you that?” Janine asked. “Of course she would. She is always matchmaking. I just met Sandy Friday, and Rena imagines a big romance. She says he is looking for a wife and thinks I am a possible candidate.”
“How do you feel?”
“I like him. Sometimes I’m even very attracted to him and other times I almost dislike him.” When Helene nodded, Janine continued, “And you? Have you found anyone?”
“I don’t know,” Janine confessed. “At first I disliked him very much. Even now he often irritates me. But he is more serious, more gentle with Rena than any other boy friend she has had since Alex. I think he will be good for her.”
“Perhaps. Yes, I think so. But will she be good for him?” Helene persisted.
It was Janine’s turn to shrug her shoulders. “I don’t know. He seems to think so. I had the impression you didn’t like him, so why are you worried?”
“I dislike waste,” she replied cryptically. “Ah, there is our house.”
Helene pointed to a large two-story stone house with a red tile roof, red brick trim, and red wooden shutters. Helene walked ahead, up the flagstone path, and rang the bell. A woman, clearly her mother, answered the door. She smiled at Janine without warmth. “Bonjour.”
“Je suis enchantee de faire voire connaissance,” Janine responded in rapid French.
The woman looked startled. “Entrez, “she said.
Janine let Helene precede her. A moment later she found herself in a lovely sitting room. Automatically speaking in French, Janine complimented Helene’s mother on the room, and Mme. Durand began to visibly thaw.
“Sit down while my mother brings the coffee,” Helene said as Mme. Durand left the room. “My sister, Jeanne, will join us later, and possibly my brother, Jacques.”
Mme. Durand returned carrying a tray with a coffee pot and several cups. The conversation was in French but Janine slipped into the language with ease. When Mme. Durand asked if she liked Paris, Janine launched into an enthusiastic response. “Of course! How could one not love Paris? Paris has all of the advantages of a large city with almost none of the disadvantages. And the food! One cannot buy such marvelous fruits and vegetables in the United States…. Oh yes, Madame Durand, I love Paris.”
Helene and her mother laughed. At that moment a girl of about fifteen walked into the room. “Hello. I am sorry I am late,” she said to Janine in French. Then she added uncertainly, “Do you understand?”
Janine smiled and answered in rapid French, “Yes. You must be Jeanne.”
The group chatted for a while about Paris and places Janine should visit. With three people talking in rapid French, Janine began to have trouble understanding everything that was said. Only Helene occasionally remembered to speak slowly. They were laughing over a story Janine had told when Helene noticed her brother in the doorway. “Jacques!” she exclaimed happily.
“I forgot you were having company today,” he said stiffly. “Excuse me, I do not wish to intrude.”
“Come in,” Mme. Durand commanded. “Janine, this is my son, Jacques. Jacques, this is Mademoiselle Halonen, a friend of Helene and the sister of Mademoiselle Rena Halonen. She is from the United States.”
Jacques inclined his head slightly and said briefly, “Enchante.”
Janine responded quickly, “I am delighted to meet you. I can understand, however, that you might find your sister’s friends boring.”
He stared at her for a moment. “You are Rena’s sister? But you speak French!”
She was puzzled by his tone of voice. “Yes, but I don’t speak it as well as Rena.”
“But no!” four voices said at the same time, then stopped, embarrassed.
“You speak much better than your sister,” Mme. Durand said quietly after a moment.
Jacques sat down and asked for a cup of coffee. “Your sister,” he said to Janine, “I am surprised she did not come with you today.”
“Rena is in Switzerland for a few weeks writing an article,” she explained.
“You will not feel lost being by yourself in Paris?” Jacques asked. “Or perhaps you are not staying long?”
Jeanne broke in, “No, Jacques, Janine has been telling us how much she loves Paris. I don’t think she will mind seeing it without her sister!”
Again the mysterious reference to Rena, the puzzling hostile undercurrent. Janine hesitated, then said, “In principle, I am here to visit most of Europe in the next few months. But frankly I am in no hurry to leave Paris.”
“Why did you not go with your sister to Switzerland?” Jacques asked. “Then you would not have to travel there alone later.”
Janine laughed. “Never! Rena and I can never agree on hotels or restaurants or places to visit. I prefer small, inexpensive hotels, but Rena likes to be very comfortable. And she likes very expensive restaurants. Since she is on an expense account, she can afford such luxury while I cannot. I would enjoy visiting small towns in the country, but she prefers the large cities. I would want to take a boat ride, and Rena gets seasick on calm lakes. We could never travel together! Besides, I have just arrived in Paris. I don’t want to leave yet.”
“Don’t you listen?” Helene scolded her brother. Then she smiled. “Even in the United States Rena and Janine could not even agree how to spend an evening together. I do not understand how two sisters can be so different. But of course you are like your father and Rena is like your mother.” A thought occurred to Helene. “Jacques, Janine is also interested in gardening.
“Yes?” he asked her.
“Yes,” Janine confirmed. “I prefer home-grown vegetables. And I like flowers, but they are expensive to buy in the United States. This past year, unfortunately, I was living in an apartment and I could not have a garden.”
“Would you like to see ours?” Jacques asked eagerly.
“Certainly.”
“I warn you,” Jeanne said, “he is a fanatic about his gardens.”
“Don’t worry,” Helene told her sister, “I will go with them and prevent Jacques from talking too much. We must be careful,” she told Janine solemnly, “or you will not want to visit us again.”
Jacques spoke impatiently, “Don’t listen to them! If you are bored you can tell me and I will talk of other things. Come.”
He led Janine and his sister out of the parlor and down the hall to the kitchen. Jacques opened the kitchen door and held it for Janine and Helene. As in the front of the house, a tall hedge surrounded the backyard, which was quite large. The garden was separated into six rectangular plots with a stone path around each. Jacques moved from plant to plant naming each for Janine. Occasionally Helene was able to supply the English name for a plant, but usually Janine had to guess. Two of the rectangular plots looked bare but Jacques explained that he had just planted seeds there the day before.
It was clear that Jacques was, as Jeanne had said, a fanatic about gardening. Although she guessed his age at twenty-six, she noted that he looked positively boyish as he talked eagerly about his plants. Finally, feeling somewhat guilty, Janine gave up trying to follow his rapid French. Most of the terms he used Janine had never heard before. Noting her friend’s expression, Helene tapped Jacques on the shoulder. “Oui?” he broke off irritably.
Helene was amused. “You are losing Janine, my brother. She does not know French that well.”
Jacques flushed. “My apologies,” he said to Janine. “I get too excited about my garden. It makes me forget who I am with.”
She was also amused. “It’s all right. I am like that when I talk about camping.”
“Let’s go back inside and sit down,” Helene said firmly.
Once more Jacques led the way. Jeanne and Mme. Durand were still seated in the parlor when the three walked in. “Janine,” Jeanne said, “Helene forgot to tell us what your field is.”
“I teach math at a small college near New York City,” she replied.
“Your fiance, is he also a professor at the college?” Jacques asked.
Janine looked at him blankly. “Monsieur, there is no fiance.”
“But surely there is someone who is interested?” he persisted.
Janine shook her head. “Not that I know of.”
“Incredible,” he murmured. Then he spoke suspiciously. “Perhaps you are
only interested in a career and do not wish a boy friend.”
No longer amused at his impertinence, Janine merely stared at him over her coffee cup. Mme. Durand said angrily, “Jacques! It is not your concern. And you forget Helene is not engaged either.”
“Yes, but she is my sister. Mademoiselle Halonen is a very pretty young woman!” Jacques protested.
The four women laughed at this typical brotherly reaction. “Look,” Janine said in exasperation, “I simply have no fiance. If someone asked me to marry him and I loved him, I would say yes. But no one has. That’s all.”
An uncomfortable silence settled over the small group. Finally Helene began to talk about Jeanne’s plans to be a psychologist. Janine asked several polite questions although she did not always understand the reply. Anything was better than a return to that silence or Jacques’s impertinent questions about her private affairs. Jacques, it turned out, worked in a government office and enjoyed talking about his work. The atmosphere gradually became more relaxed and when Janine left, some time later, Mme. Durand invited her to visit again before she left France. “Perhaps before your sister returns,” Jacques added.
Really! Janine thought as she nodded and said good-bye, he is becoming annoying. After three hours of steady French, her head was beginning to ache and she was in no mood to be tolerant. Helene walked her back to the station and she took the opportunity to ask, “What was that all about? About Rena, I mean.”
Helene hesitated, then grimaced. “It was unfortunate. I invited Rena to come for coffee one afternoon, and I am afraid she made a very bad impression. She kept asking me to translate and when she did make the effort to speak French, it was very careless. She simply did not wish to try, I think. And then she kept complaining about Paris-the food, the water, how expensive everything was. It was so bad that my family did not wish me to invite you today.”