Paris Summer (13 page)

“What did you say?”

“Nothing,” Mark lied. “Look,” he said urgently.
“Will you promise me something? If Sandy asks you to
marry him, will you talk to me before you give him an
answer? Or at least with someone else who is also
impartial?”

Janine laughed. “I promise. But you’re really getting
ahead of things, aren’t you? Sandy hasn’t asked me and
I’m not at all sure he will. As I was telling myself this
morning, Sandy is probably just amusing himself. You
know, another female to add to his list. Maybe it will
lead to something serious, but at the moment, I assure
you, he’s not in love with me!”

Mark fidgeted with his spoon. “Maybe. But he is
serious about marrying you. I happen to know that he’s
been told to find a wife and that he thinks you’re
suitable.”

Janine laughed again. “Suitable? What an awful way
of putting it! Anyway, you shouldn’t listen to rumors.
If that one were true I could be sure he wouldn’t ask me
to marry him. No one could misunderstand me enough
to think I’d be suitable by his father’s standards!”

Mark frowned, started to speak, then changed his
mind. He was grateful to see the waiter approaching
with the check. Janine immediately leaned over to read
the total. A moment later she handed Mark thirty francs, which was half. “You don’t have to, you know,”
he said quietly.

Janine snorted, “Since when do brothers take sisters
out to dinner?”

Mark laughed. “Touche. Shall we go over to
Shakespeare and Company?” As she nodded, he
added, “Don’t forget your package. Or your umbrella…just in case it rains and you see a likely looking
male!”

Janine wrinkled her nose at him. “And if not, I can
use it to chastise an impudent brother!”

Laughing, they left the restaurant with the waiter
smiling after them. Mark was a frequent customer and
it was nice to see him laughing for a change.

Later, getting ready for bed, Janine thought back
over the evening. What a strange dinner it had been!
Leaving the restaurant, Janine had been worried about
Mark and Rena. Then he had started saying, “Most
people don’t understand Rena, you know. They see a
lovely, spoiled child. Sometimes I do too, but there’s a
lot more there. I can’t help seeing that she’s insecure;
that she can never quite believe she’s really loved.
Rena’s selfishness is a way of making sure no one can
hurt her. And she needs security. It’s almost as if
someone once hurt her badly and she’s afraid to trust
anyone else. Once we’re married, she’ll have that
security and she’ll open up, I think. Rena’s capable of
an incredible amount of love if she can just let it out.”

Janine had caught her breath. How astonishing to
think of Rena as insecure! It was almost as if Mark
knew about Alex, and that was strange too. Rena never
talked to anyone about his disappearance. Mark was very perceptive, but Janine hoped he wasn’t counting
on something in Rena that didn’t exist.

Other than that, they hadn’t spoken much as they
walked to the bookstore. Both had felt as though the
evening had gotten out of hand; as though they had
spoken thoughts they hadn’t felt ready to reveal. The
joyful clutter of the bookshop had been a welcome
sight, and they had separated to explore the dusty
shelves. Much later, though it had only seemed a little
while, Mark asked her if she was ready to leave. When
she had nodded, Mark had told her it was almost
midnight. He had laughed at the surprise evident on
her face and said that Shakespeare and Company often
did that to people.

Mark had walked her back, explaining that the
streets could be confusing late at night. It was chilly
and he had lent her his jacket, which Janine had worn
over her shoulders. They walked in a companionable
silence and too soon, almost, they were at seventeen rue
Bonaparte. Mark had left with a friendly wave and
Janine had slowly climbed the five flights, suddenly
feeling very tired. Propped against the door was an
envelope with her name on it. From Sandy, she guessed
and decided to wait until morning to read it. He was
probably angry, and she felt incapable of coping with
him tonight.

Now it was one in the morning and the note still sat
unread as Janine climbed into bed. She was just
drifting off to sleep when the phone rang. “Blast it!” she
murmured. “Let it ring!”

After eight rings, however, the phone was still not
quiet. Perhaps it was something important, Janine
thought. Rena calling? Janine forced herself out of bed and into slippers and reached the phone while it was
still ringing. “Allo?” she said.

She heard a loud click and then silence. She
shrugged; must have been a wrong number. Yawning,
she hurried back to bed. She would probably sleep
quite late tomorrow, but then, that’s what vacations
were for, right?

Ring-g-g. Ring-g-g. Janine heard the distant sound
as it intruded into her dream. The phone. No, the door.
Ring-g-g. It was more urgent now and Janine forced
herself to get up. Sleepily she put on slippers and her
sister’s long housecoat. “Attendez, attendez,” she
called, wishing the jangling noise would stop.

Janine opened the door, still half asleep. It was
Sandy. He pushed his way into the apartment. “Are
you all right?” he asked anxiously.

“Yes. Just tired. You woke me up.”

“You must have gotten in pretty late, then!” he
snapped. He changed his tone so quickly, however,
that Janine wasn’t sure she had heard him correctly. “I
called yesterday but you were out. I figured you had
gone to a museum so I wasn’t worried. Then, over the
evening news, I heard there had been a really bad
smashup near the Louvre and that several people had
been killed or injured. They said it was mostly tourists
involved. I called to see if you were okay and no one
answered. About ten P.M. I came over in case your
phone wasn’t working. I waited a while and when you
still didn’t come I left a note. Didn’t you get it?”

Note? Janine thought a moment. Oh, yes, a note.
Her eyes traveled to the refrigerator where the
unopened envelope still sat. Sandy, following her eyes,
saw it too. He brought it over to Janine. Silently she
opened it.

Jenny,

Please call me the minute you get home. No
matter how late it is. It’s important.

Sandy

Janine looked up at Sandy. “I’m sorry. I got home so
late I didn’t even read it.”

“Sorry!” Sandy exploded. “That’s just great! I’ve
been awake all night worried about you because you
were too tired to read a note and all you can say is
sorry? Don’t you know I love you?”

Guiltily, Janine avoided his eyes. “I guess I was
afraid you were angry with me for slipping away
yesterday and I was afraid you’d want me to call. I
didn’t feel up to coping with that.”

“Angry?” Sandy said incredulously. He sat on the
couch beside Janine and took her hands. “Jenny, how
could I be angry with you? Don’t you think I understand that sometimes you need a day by yourself?
What sort of man do you think I am? I know you don’t
feel the way I do yet, and honestly, kitten, I’m not
trying to rush you.”

“I was afraid you’d be angry that I spent the day with
Mark,” Janine said anxiously.

“Why?” Sandy prodded gently. “I admit I didn’t
trust him at first, but you explained he really is stuck on
Rena. Jenny, I want you to have male friends and I
want you to be on good terms with your brother-inlaw. Honey, I’m not one of those guys who is always
jealous. And even if it hadn’t been Mark, even if it had
been a rival, I wouldn’t be angry. How could I be? I
don’t have the right to tell you who you can or can’t see.
I have no real right to be jealous. Not yet, anyway. I hope, of course, that one day you won’t want to see
anyone else, but until then I’ll be patient.”

Janine felt miserable. “I’m sorry, Sandy. I’m just not
very sensible sometimes.”

“Don’t worry about it, kitten,” Sandy said soothingly as he gently pulled her head to his shoulder. Stroking
her hair he said, “I understand. I shouldn’t have
sounded off like that. I was just so worried about you
last night. I had to come over and see you were okay
this morning.”

Janine disentangled herself from his arms. “Would
you like some coffee?”

“No, I’ve got to run. Got some business to take care
of for my father. I’m late as it is, but I had to stop by
and see you.” Sandy hesitated. “Is it all right if I stop by
at eight to take you out to dinner?”

Seeing Sandy standing there looking so humble,
Janine felt her eyes begin to fill. How could she deny
him such a small request? “Of course,” she agreed.

Sandy smiled and quickly, selfconsciously, kissed
her on the cheek, then hurried out the door. He didn’t
start whistling until after he had skipped down the
steps and into the courtyard. Janine closed the door
quietly, feeling slightly dazed. No, overwhelmed. That
was the word she was looking for. Suddenly she
laughed. Everything seemed wonderful. Wait until
Mark heard about this! It would show him how much
he had misjudged Sandy! Feeling very contented,
Janine dressed quickly, eager to be outside.

The weeks began to fall into a pattern. Almost every
day, except Tuesday and Sunday, Janine would see
Sandy. Sometimes they went out with Alan and Betty, more often they were alone. Sundays Janine would
spend the day in museums with Mark as her
companion and occasionally her guide. Afterward they
would go to Rena’s apartment or his for dinner, taking
turns with the cooking. Mark was an excellent cook,
which always reminded Janine that her sister was a
fortunate woman. On Tuesdays she would go to the
Faculte des Sciences at Jussieu for the math seminar. It
became a habit, after these seminars, to stop by Mark’s
office to chat for a half hour or so before returning to
the apartment. Occasionally Janine had the evening to
herself, more often Sandy stopped by after dinner.

“You might try listening then!” Janine exclaimed
sarcastically.

Her hands were on her hips and her face was flushed
with anger. Mark flung down his piece of chalk and
was about to answer when the door opened. Pierre
poked his head in and said apologetically, “I tried
knocking but you didn’t hear me. I was curious. I could
hear the two of you all the way down the hall.”

Mark flushed. In a calm voice he said, “It’s nothing.
Mademoiselle Halonen just won’t listen to something
I’m trying to explain.”

“I won’t listen?” Janine demanded hotly but quietly,
“You won’t listen! Just because you’ve got a Ph.D. and
I’ve only got an M.S. you assume you must be right and
I must be wrong. I’m sorry but I don’t have such faith in
your infallibility. Good day!”

Janine grabbed her purse, raincoat, and umbrella
and swept past Pierre. Behind her she could hear him
saying to Mark, “Elle a plutot /‘air fachel”

Yes, I’m angry! Janine addressed Pierre silently as she marched swiftly down the dungeon-like corridor.
Conceited pig! I notice you take his side. Just like a
man!

Students moved out of Janine’s way as she clattered
down the stairs and out into the open air. In spite of the
rain, Janine decided to walk back to the apartment. In
her present mood, she knew, she was incapable of being
cooped up in a crowded subway train. Besides, walking
back would insure no one-Sandy especially-could
contact her for a good forty-five minutes. And Janine
knew that anyone who tried to talk to her now would
get his or her head bitten off. Darn the man, anyway!
Why did he have to be so rude?

It had all started calmly enough. She had stopped by
Mark’s office, as usual, after Pierre’s talk. They had
chatted for a bit, then Mark had asked a few questions
about the seminar. Janine had done her best, but he
had obviously not tried to follow her explanation. How
else could he have failed to understand the clear, simple
proofs she had used? Then he had tried to snow her by
drawing all sorts of improbable pictures on the board.
By that time, Mark had become rather sarcastic. Then,
when she failed to immediately grasp his ideas, he had
lost his temper. Janine had responded in kind and soon
they had been yelling. Thank goodness Pierre had
stopped by. By the time he came, however, she
wouldn’t have admitted she was wrong even if she had
been. Which she wasn’t. “I’m glad you’re not a
mathematician, Sandy,” she muttered fervently. “I’ll
never marry a mathematician!”

As she marched rapidly westward, Janine realized
she would reach the apartment much too soon. She
forced herself to stop at a small cafe and order a cup of
tea. As the soothing liquid warmed her throat, Janine began to relax. What, after all, was she so upset about?
A moment later she was giggling. Poor Mark. She
wondered if he knew. Toward the end of the fight, she
had begun to realize that they were probably trying to
say the same thing, just in different ways. Had he seen it
too? While she approached math verbally, Mark
grasped things visually. They were each incapable of
following the other approach with ease. Janine giggled
again. How ironic that they should have argued so
hotly for the same side!