Paris Summer

by April Lynn Kihlstrom

  Mark shrugged. Janine wiped her hand on her jeans and offered it to Bob. “I’m glad to meet you. I gather you’ve been in Paris a while,” she said.

  “A month. I’m here for a year. How about you?” Bob asked.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Mark said frostily, “I’ll be upstairs.”

  Without waiting for an answer, he stalked off, and Bob repeated his question. Janine turned away from the stairs. “What? Oh, no. That is, my sister lives in Paris. She’s a freelance journalist. I’m just visiting her. Only she’s not in town right now. I’ve been here about a month and a half. And I’m leaving town Tuesday to see the rest of Europe,” Janine concluded somewhat breathlessly.

  Bob looked slightly bewildered. “Do you always talk like that? Everything all jumbled together?”

  Janine flushed and took a deep breath. “No, usually I sound quite rational. What area of math are you interested in?”

  “Oh, game theory and graph theory,” Bob replied off-handedly.

  “Not another visualist” Janine groaned.

  “Another what?”

  “Visualist. Someone who views math as a series of mental pictures. Mark does. And every time we try to discuss math, we end up fighting. You see, I perceive mathematics via symbols and cannot easily perceive it visually. Mark has trouble with algebraic descriptions. As a result, we end up deadlocked. We can’t comprehend each other’s ideas,” she explained.

  Bob was still puzzled. “I can understand that the two of you might get frustrated, but why angry? Why does it matter so much?”

  Janine was startled. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, anyway, since I don’t want to fight with you, we won’t discuss mathematics. That’s simple enough,” Bob assured her.

  Janine nodded her agreement. There was an awkward silence. “Perhaps I’d better join Mark,” Bob said finally. “You say you leave Tuesday? Will you be free before then’? I’d like to see you again.”

  Janine shook her head. “I’m afraid not. I’ve already promised various friends I’d spend the time with them.”

  “Oh, of course.” Bob frowned. “Nevertheless, it was very nice meeting you. If you find you do have some free time, after all, call me. You can get my phone number from Mark. Promise?”

  “All right,” Janine said with a smile. “Au revoir.”

  Bob grinned, then disappeared up the stairs. “Now why,” Janine asked herself softly, “did I turn down that date’? He seems nice enough and I will have free time…”

  With a shrug, Janine crept back into the nook and sat down. She was soon absorbed in her book again. When she had finished the book, she lingered a while longer. But there was no further sign of Bob or Mark, so she paid for her books and left.

  It was Sunday morning, early. Earlier than Janine could ever remember being awake on a Sunday morning. Except perhaps on Christmas when she was a little girl. She turned away from the window and noticed Ralph, his eyes gleaming in the half light. “Well, what are you staring at me for?” she demanded. “You know I always see Mark on Sunday. It doesn’t mean a darn thing! I think of him as a brother, do you hear me, a brother. I’m just a troublesome younger sister to him. One he’ll be glad to be rid of Rena bought you to protect me, not to spy on me. So why don’t you protect me? Why didn’t you say something when I was being so stupid about Sandy? Why didn’t you chase him out of the apartment?”

  Janine sighed. She was so tired! But there was no point in trying to sleep any more. And it was far too early for bakeries to be open. She was alone, except for a porcelain cat, not even sure that Mark would come today.

  Janine woke with a start. Her forehead was resting on her arms on the table beside a cold cup of coffee. At some forgotten point, she realized, she had dressed. The doorbell rang again and she hurried to answer it. Mark regarded her for a moment, then grinned. “You look awful!”

  Janine made a face. “Thanks! Come in. I’ll make some coffee.”

  “I’ll make the coffee,” he offered. “You go wash your face. You look as though you just woke up.”

  “I did!” she retorted as she left the room.

  “Such sloth,” Mark called in mock despair.

  “Actually,” she said as she returned, “it’s the second time this morning. I was up before dawn.”

  Mark really looked at her this time. “More trouble? Sandy? Or Jacques this time?”

  “No,” Janine shook her head, suddenly uncomfortable. Then she remembered. “Mark, what exactly did you say to Jacques? And why did you ask him not to tell me?”

  “I like secrets”-Mark grinned maliciously-“so I’m not going to tell you.”

  “You’re horrid!”

  “Of course. All brothers are. It’s a requirement for the job.” He laughed.

  After a moment, Janine laughed also. Yes, this was the Mark she knew. She glanced at Ralph as if to say, “You see`? Perfectly harmless.” Nevertheless, she turned him to face the other way.

  Mark was already pouring coffee. “No croissants at the bakery so I bought some orange tarts,” he explained. “You look better now that you’re awake.” Then he asked about her trip.

  “So. I gather everything is settled. Bob said you were leaving Tuesday. Or was that just your way of avoiding a date?”

  “I don’t do things that way! If I didn’t want to go out with him I’d say so.” Too late, Janine remembered that she had lied to Bob about being busy. Flustered, she began to chatter. “I leave by train for London on Tuesday, spend a week there, then fly to Helsinki. Then I’ll go to Turku where I’ll catch a boat to Stockholm. I’ve allowed about nine days for that plus a boat trip to Denmark. From Denmark I’ll travel mostly by train, allowing twenty-one days to go through Germany, Switzerland, Italy, and Greece. I definitely want to visit Rome, Florence, and Venice. Oh, and I want to see the Greek islands. If it sounds vague, it is. Any suggestions?”

  Mark leaned back. “Well, if you’ve got the time, you might enjoy stopping in Lausanne, Switzerland. From there you can catch a boat or train to a lovely little castle on Lac Leman. It’s called Chateau de Chillon. The boats make the round trip daily. Also, you might enjoy going from Lausanne to Geneva by boat. In Italy I’d plan on several days in Florence. You’ll love the city. Try to get to the science museum, it’s quite interesting. The trains in Italy will be slow and crowded. Don’t be surprised if you have to stand. In fact, I’d suggest wearing jeans so you can sit on the floor. You can drink the water in most cities, but carry something to eat and drink on trains. Everything is very expensive on trains. Oh, and don’t change money on trains or in train stations if you can help it. The exchange rate is usually terrible.”

  Janine nodded, trying to file away all the information. “You sound as if you’ve done a lot of traveling,” she said.

  He nodded. “Quite a bit this year and, of course, the times with my family. My parents and I kept disagreeing about what to see. I lost so I was dragged along to all the museums and famous sights. I was angry at the time, but now I’m grateful they did.”

  Smiling, Janine said, “Speaking of museums, where shall we go today?”

  Mark’s reply surprised her. “Would you mind if we didn’t go to a museum? There’s a park I’d rather we went to,” he said.

  His face seemed almost troubled and Janine was tempted to ask why. But she knew that if he wasn’t ready to tell her, asking would only make him angry. She confined herself to asking, “Which park?”

  He seemed relieved. “Buttes Chaumont,” he replied.

  Janine started laughing and Mark scowled. “May I ask what’s so funny?”

  “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “It’s just such a coincidence. Helene and Jacques told me about the park and I was going to suggest it if you didn’t. I guess we think alike.”

  Mark, who had started to grin, abruptly turned away. “Shall we be going?”

  Puzzled, Janine assented. What had disturbed him? Usually Mark was quite good-natured about teasing. As they walked dow
n the stairs, Janine thought over everything that had been said. Something was definitely bothering Mark.

  Mark’s unnatural behavior continued. Instead of resting a hand on Janine’s shoulder as he often did, or taking her hand as they hurried to get on a train before the doors shut, Mark seemed to carefully be keeping a distance between them. He also walked faster than he ordinarily did when Janine was with him, and she often found herself half running to keep up. “Mark,” she ventured once, “have you heard from Rena or something?”

  “No!” he snapped. “And I wish she’d come back to Paris!”

  That had ended that line of questioning. Then Mark asked about Jacques, “Will you miss him, Janine?”

  “I suppose. He’s really very nice. But I won’t miss him romantically, if that’s what you mean,” Janine answered frankly. “If anything, I think of him as a sweet fellow whom I’d like to add to my collection of brothers.”

  “Brothers!” Mark muttered angrily, then fell silent. After several minutes he added, “So you won’t mind not seeing him again?”

  “Oh, but I will.”

  “You will? Is he traveling with you?”

  Janine laughed. “Of all the absurd notions! Really, Mark. Of course not. I’ll see him when I stop back in Paris on my way to New York.”

  Mark halted and stared at Janine. They were in the park then, walking on a path that wound along the hillside. Janine felt very conspicuous there and uneasy at the strange way Mark was looking at her. “What is it?” she asked.

  Mark snapped out of his trance. “Why didn’t you mention you planned to stop back here?” he asked, speaking slowly.

  Janine was exasperated. “I thought I had. Well, what difference does it make, anyway? If you’re worried about how Rena would feel if I didn’t, forget it. She probably wouldn’t even notice.” The bitterness crept into her voice and Janine couldn’t stop it. “Oh, she enjoys seeing me, but the only absences she ever notices are the absences of her boy friends. Besides, the two of you will be so busy making wedding plans you won’t-”

  Janine stopped abruptly, feeling horrified at her voice and the unexpected tears that she was close to. Mark was glaring at her, a strange look on his face. Both glanced away, and Janine was more conscious than she had ever been before of how close he was, though he stood at least two feet away. This wasn’t what she had meant to say. This wasn’t how she had meant to act.

  Mark turned his back to Janine and ran his fingers through his windblown hair. And when he spoke, a moment later, his voice was oddly taut. “Let’s take this path down,” he said as though they had been discussing the question. “I think it leads to the island. We really ought to see it. I’m told there is a stairway cut into the rock leading down to the water. And you wait at the bottom for a man to come over with a boat and row you to shore.”

  Without waiting for an answer, Mark started down the branch of the path he had indicated. Speechless, Janine followed. He had been wrong about the path and it took them a while to find the right one. By that time they could almost speak naturally. Almost. They still couldn’t look each other in the eye. But Mark was right about the stairway and the boat, and they were able to laugh together about the swans and ducks. As Mark helped Janine out of the boat when they reached the other shore, he almost seemed relaxed. They stopped and bought ice cream cones before wandering up another path. Neither said much, since they were both afraid to say anything that wasn’t safe. And no subject seemed really safe. Janine noticed the secluded spot first. Since other people were doing it, she suggested they sit on the grass. Mark thought that was a very good idea. He sat cross-legged and Janine sprawled out beside him.

  Leaning on one elbow to look at him, Janine said, “Now, Mark. Will you please tell me what’s bugging you. you?”

  He hesitated, then sighed. “Well, one thing is a letter I got yesterday from a friend of mine. He’s in Nigeria, a native. Joshua helped me get the job offer I told you about. I knew him in graduate school at Stanford. Anyway, he wrote me and I guess I found his letter upsetting. He says there is trouble there and that it will probably get a lot worse soon. The usual sort of thing except that now there’s also starting to be an antinonAfrican feeling in the country. In fact, to put it bluntly, Joshua thinks it’s a good thing I’m not planning to go there. He’s afraid that if I had accepted the position, it might have been cancelled. Or worse, it might not have been and I’d have gone and maybe found myself in the middle of a nasty situation.”

  “So it’s just as well you decided not to go there because of Rena,” Janine said slowly.

  He ran a hand through his hair. “Yes, I guess it is,” he admitted. “But I still can’t help feeling upset. And I’m worried a little about Joshua. I hope he doesn’t have trouble. Though he probably won’t …he’s got some important relatives, he once said.”

  Janine waited, sensing Mark had still not told her everything. He was silent for a while, as though struggling with himself “You know,” he said at last, “I guess I feel so strange about it because I’d been seriously thinking, the last couple of weeks, of writing Joshua and asking if I could have the position after all. And the devil with Switzerland.”

  “But what about Rena?” Janine asked in a shocked voice.

  He spoke bitterly. “That’s the only thing that held me back. I had to talk to her about it first. I would have tried to make her understand and accept how important it was to me. And if she couldn’t… well, it would have meant there were a lot of other things we had to talk about. Only Rena didn’t come back to Paris. And I kept waiting, telling myself she’d return in a few days, that she had to. And now it’s too late and I feel guilty.”

  “But why?” Janine asked. “You said yourself that it’s just as well you aren’t going to Nigeria. So what difference does it make? And what have you got to feel guilty about? Your decision to go to Nigeria wouldn’t have changed what’s going on there.”

  “It isn’t that!” Mark snapped and looked away. “How can I explain it to you when I don’t really understand it myself?” He was silent for a while and finally said, slowly, “I guess I’m upset because of Rena. Now I won’t know whether she would have refused to accept my decision. Or what I’d have done if she had. Or hadn’t. And there’s no other way to find out some of the things I need to know about Rena and myself.”

  Mark’s voice was sharp with frustration and Janine tried to think of something suitable to say. But what? How could anyone justify Rena’s behavior or help Mark sort out his relationship with her? Janine felt helpless and somehow relieved that she would not be present when her sister returned and the two thrashed out their problems. Hopefully she would be relaxing on a beach somewhere or wandering down streets of an old city. If present, she wouldn’t be able to keep herself from hating Rena for hurting Mark. And Rena wouldn’t be able to forgive her for taking the part of the outsider. Janine felt an ache in her throat and she was absurdly glad she would be out of Paris by Tuesday. She almost wished she could fly straight to New York from anywhere but Paris. Well, she could always arrange to just stay overnight or something. And for one day, surely, she could pretend to be gay with Rena. Rena! If it were anyone else marrying Mark, she didn’t think she would mind so much. But year after year to see them together? No, it was impossible. She would just have to keep very busy, too busy for visits, until, eventually, she didn’t care any more. And she couldn’t go on caring forever, could she?

  “What are you thinking?” Mark asked unexpectedly.

  Janine looked down at the grass to hide her eyes. “About you and Rena,” she said, unable to stop herself.

  “Janine, I…it’s none of your business,” he finished roughly.

  “I know. Except I’m fond of both of you.”

  For some reason, Mark smiled gently. “I can remember when you hated me.”

  “I never hated you!” Janine protested indignantly.

  Mark laughed. “Well, perhaps hate is too strong a word,” he conceded. “Let’s s
ay disliked me. The first few days I knew you, I thought of you as Rena’s disagreeable, disapproving older sister who might make trouble if she could.”

  Janine laughed. “And I found you very disagreeable. But I didn’t really disapprove. In fact, you’re the first man I approved of for Rena since Alex.”

  Too late, she remembered he didn’t know about Alex. Mark pounced on the name. “Alex?”

  She shouldn’t tell him, but somehow Janine felt he would understand and not hold it against Rena. She sighed. “Alex was a young man Rena knew several years ago. They liked each other as soon as they met and for a while it was a kind of lightning romance. Then, suddenly, Alex disappeared. It was the end of the year and exams had just finished at Ohio State where he was a student. Rena and Alex had had a fight, but nothing to speak of, really. And she never heard from him again. He didn’t return in the fall and he never wrote. Rena got his home address from the registrar’s office somehow and she wrote lots of letters. But they were never answered and after a few months, she gave up. Since then, she won’t talk about him much.

  “Right after it happened I felt very guilty. Almost as though it were my fault. I was the one who introduced them, you see. I felt as though I’d made a big mistake. Then, too, Alex and I were friends. We got along well and a few times Rena got jealous and accused me of trying to take him away from her. It wasn’t true, of course. He only cared about Rena and spent most of the time talking about her when he was with me. Still, I felt guilty. And I vowed I’d never take a chance of ruining Rena’s happiness again. I guess that’s why it upset me so much when…when Sandy threatened to tell Rena you and I were-were lovers.

  “For a while I thought Rena would never get over Alex. Then, suddenly one day, she announced she didn’t care any more. And since that day, she’s never been without a boy friend. She changed, too, that day. She became harder and colder and more selfish.” Janine paused, caught up in memories.

  Mark’s voice cut short her reverie. “That explains a lot of things. Of course, I knew there had been someone. Occasionally, not too often, she’d have one drink too many. Then Rena would start talking. Never very coherently… something about being left alone and being afraid.” He tossed a pebble and hesitated before he continued. “Rena used to say that no one understood; no one knew what she had been through.”