Paris Summer (3 page)

“Have you ever heard from Alex?” Janine asked.

Rena shook her head. “Never. I often wonder what
happened. I know we quarreled, but not badly enough
to make him leave town. And certainly not badly
enough to make him leave college.”

Janine bit her lip. She hadn’t realized Rena still felt
so strongly about it. Alex had been a freshman at Ohio
State when he met Rena. They had immediately liked
one another, though their relationship tended to be a
bit stormy. Tall, fair-haired, and intelligent, Alex did
not meet with approval from their mother. Then, right
after final exams the first year-and a quarrel with
Rena-Alex had left town without saying good-bye or
even leaving a note for Rena. The next year he had not
returned to Ohio State and there had never been any
letters from him. Three years later, Rena’s pride was
still hurt. Not all the intervening boy friends could
completely erase Alex from her mind. Janine, now
aware of her blunder, quickly asked, “And Mark? Tell
me all about him. How did you meet?”

“In a cafe,” Rena answered. “I was with Helene. This
guy started talking to me and before I knew what was
happening, he offered to take us home. Helene didn’t
want that, but he was so nice I couldn’t refuse. Helene insisted on staying, so I left with him-Mark, I mean.”

“How could you?” Janine asked, shocked.

“Well, she had her car there and insisted she didn’t
mind me leaving with Mark,” Rena protested.

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.