Paris Summer (4 page)

Janine was even calm enough that when, in the
elevator going down, Sandy put his arm around her
laughingly, she didn’t draw away. “Hey!” Alan
exclaimed, seeing the gesture, “me too!”

“What about me?” Rena demanded.

Both men obligingly put their free arms around
Rena and the four of them stood laughing.

Their spirits were irrepressible as they walked, arm
in arm, four abreast, up the Avenue lena toward 1’Arc
de Triomphe de l’Etoile. It was, however, a section of
town well accustomed to tourists and few people
bothered to stare. To Janine, her first view of the
ChampsElysees was disappointing. “It’s so…so
commercial!” she complained.

Alan nodded. “Only here, though. Farther down it becomes a tree-lined avenue. Near the Jardin des
Tuileries especially.”

“There,” Rena broke in, pointing. “Le Drugstore.
My feet are hurting and I want a hamburger!”

Without waiting to see if the others would follow,
Rena started forward at a brisk pace. A man on each
arm, Janine followed more leisurely. Le Drugstore
was, as usual, very crowded. The four squeezed around
a small table. It was clear from the menu that Le
Drugstore did indeed pride itself on being “American.”
With resignation, Janine ordered a hamburger and
Coke along with the others.

“How long will you be in Paris, Jenny?” Alan asked
after the food arrived.

“I’m not sure,” she answered. “The school year
doesn’t start until September, of course, so I could stay
until then. But I don’t know if I will. I think I’ll visit a
few other countries in Europe, but I’m not sure which
or when. I must sound pretty disorganized but I…”
She stopped, abruptly aware that she did not want to
discuss Phil. “I had a lot on my mind until just before I
came.

It sounded lame even to Janine and Rena, guessing
the problem, jumped in. “How long are you staying in
Paris, Sandy?”

“I don’t know either. My father said to stay a few
months and gave me plenty to live on. I’m supposed to
visit most of Western Europe but, like Jenny, I don’t
know when I’ll go where. Depends on what I find to
keep me here. To tell you the truth, I don’t see the point
of traipsing all over Europe visiting countries where I
can’t speak the language and don’t know anyone who
does. At least in Paris Alan can always help me out. So
I suppose I’ll spend most of my time in Paris. I can always read about the countries I don’t get to. Dad’ll
ask me lots of questions, of course, but he’s never been
to Europe so I can get away with it.”

“How is your article coming, Rena?” Alan asked,
changing the subject.

“Fine,” Rena answered hastily, happy not to have to
respond to Sandy’s surprising declaration.

“She’s writing about the French educational
system,” Alan explained to Sandy.

“I finally got the interview I needed yesterday and I
should have the thing polished off in a few more days,”
Rena continued. “Of course, Jenny being here is a good
excuse to goof off.”

They all laughed, and then Rena delivered a lecture
on the differences between French and American
schools.

It was with relief that Janine stepped out of the noisy
Drugstore a little later. “Where to next?” Alan
demanded. “Walk to the Tuileries along the ChampsElysees?”

“No!” Rena protested. “My feet are killing me. I
don’t know about Jenny, but I’m taking the Metro
back to St. Germain des Pres right now.”

“I am tired,” Janine admitted. “I think I’ll go back
with you, Rena.”

“Well, then, I guess we’ll have to split up,” Alan said.
“Sandy and I are going to keep going. What are you
planning for tomorrow?”

“Marche aux Puces,” Rena answered.

“You’re on your own!” Alan said emphatically. He
turned to Sandy. “If I know Rena, they’ll spend hours
there.”

“Maybe we can get together in a few days,” Sandy
suggested, looking at Janine. “I’ll call.”

Janine was relieved to find the Metro cleaner,
quieter, and more efficient than the New York City
subway system.

“You’ll find,” Rena explained, “that no matter
where you want to go in Paris, you can get there either
by bus, Metro, or walking.”

“Speaking of walking,” Janine said, “how can Alan
intend to keep going?”

Rena smiled shrewdly. “I suspect that `sightseeing’
means finding a cafe and sitting and watching the
women go by.”

“And hoping to pick one up?” Janine hazarded.

“You’ve figured out Alan, all right,” Rena answered
laughingly. “Yes, that’s his favorite pastime, and his
girl friend just has to get used to it.”

Tired, they were both quiet until it was time to
change trains at Chatelet. “We’re lucky,” Rena said,
“it’s a `short’ change. Sometimes you have to walk
forever to get from one line to another. By the way, I
hope you don’t mind, but I’d like to get off at Odeon
and stop at the market on our way back to the
apartment. We’ll have to go sometime today and
there’s no point in climbing those stairs more than we
have to.”

“Fine,” Janine said emphatically, remembering the
stairs.

“I think you’ll like the market. It’s one of the really
nice things about Paris.”

As they turned onto rue de Seine, Janine’s first
impression was of confusion. All along the street men
were carrying boxes in or out of shops. People were
clustered here and there; others wandered around,
crossing back and forth across the street. And cars tried to squeeze between those parked on both sides of the
street.

“Wander around,” Rena suggested, “I’ll take care of
the shopping.”

Left alone, Janine tried to sort out the different types
of shops. There were dairies, supermarkets, butchers,
fishmongers, a flower dealer, and four fruit and
vegetable stands, whose owners competed in advertising their wares by shouting. The market continued
around the corner, with another butcher, dairy, and
two flower stalls, as well as a bakery, two charcuteries,
and the inevitable cafes.

Janine was still looking around when Rena spotted
her. “Here,” she said, dumping a pile of packages in
Janine’s arms, “I forgot my basket. I’ll be back in a
minute. I still have to get something for supper.”

It was closer to five minutes later that Rena
reappeared carrying milk under one arm and some
cheese and a chicken in the other. “Supermarche is out
of bags again,” Rena explained. “Now we just have to
get some bread.”

It seemed to Janine they must present a comic sight
as they walked along juggling food. “People are used to
it,” Rena responded when Janine voiced her thoughts
aloud. “The real problem will be the stairs.”

Somehow they managed the spiral staircase, but
both were out of breath when they reached the fifth
floor. Rena fumbled in her pockets and finally found
her keys. “I’ve learned not to carry them in my purse.
Too hard to find if I do,” she explained.

Laughing, Janine entered first, abruptly halting as
she saw Mark sitting on the daybed reading. “What is
it?” Rena demanded, looking over Janine’s shoulder.
“Mark!”

She shoved past Janine and set her packages on the
table, then hugged Mark.

“Entrez” he said affably to Janine.

“How did you get in?” she asked suspiciously as she
set down her load.

“He’s got a key, silly,” Rena answered. “But what are
you doing here? I thought you were going to be
working on math all day.”

“I was, but I decided to take the two of you out to
dinner this evening.”

“Where?” Rena demanded eagerly.

“Oh, the Vietnamese place,” Mark replied, smiling
affectionately as he stroked Rena’s hair. “And
afterward I thought we could show your sister around
St. Michel and sample some Tunisian pastry.” He
turned to Janine. “Comment ca va?”

“Ca va bien, “she replied tersely.

“Oh, Mark!” Rena protested. “You shouldn’t have
teased Jenny like that, showing off your French!”

“I thought she spoke French very well herself,” he
answered, “especially since you said she’s never been to
France before. But I’m sorry if it bothered you…Jenny, isn’t it?”

“Janine, actually,” she said, thawing slightly.

“Janine,” he repeated. “Well, I hope you like
Vietnamese food.”

“I’ve never had it,” she replied, “but I suspect I will
like it. You’ll have to suggest what to order.”

He nodded. Rena started putting the food away. “Sit
down, both of you,” she said. “Jenny is interested in
math, too, Mark.”

“Oh?” he said politely.

“I teach in the math department of a small
community college just outside of New York City.”

“She might be interested in going to some of the
math talks at the university,” Rena interjected.

“I hardly think she’d be interested or have the
background to understand them,” Mark said, somewhat condescendingly.

Janine bristled. “Perhaps I should be the judge of
what sort of talks would or would not be appropriate.
Are there any in abstract algebra?”

“Yes. Every Tuesday, but…”

“Good. What time and where do they meet?”

Mark shrugged. “Two o’clock. If you’ve got a map I
can show you where the Faculte des Sciences is, how to
get there, and the numbering system of the buildings.
That is, if you’re sure…”

“I am.”

“All right. The Faculte des Sciences consists of a
gridlike pattern of towers connected above ground by
corridors. Each tower is numbered, and the corridors
are designated by the numbers of the towers at each
end. Floors are numbered RC, first, second, and so on.
The room is in forty-five forty-six and is numbered
three-oh-one dash three-oh-three. That means it’s on
the third floor in the corridor between towers forty-five
and forty-six, and the room is oh-one dash oh-three.
Got that?”

“Why do they use RC?” Rena asked.

“Rez de chaussee means street level,” Mark
explained. He turned back to Janine. “You can catch
the Metro at Mabillon and get off at Jussieu, or you
could walk. The lecture will be in French, you know.”

“Surprise, surprise,” Janine answered coolly. “It will
be good practice for my French then, if nothing else,
won’t it?”

“Hey, truce,” Rena commanded. “Here’s a map. On
the back it shows the Metro lines, too.”

Mark glanced at Janine. She was smiling a little too
sweetly, it seemed to him. But Mark forced himself to
calmly discuss the various routes to the Faculte des
Sciences. Then he asked Rena, “How was your
sightseeing?”

Rena launched into a description of the day, and
Mark smiled affectionately as he listened. When the
torrent of words finally ceased, he commented, “You
seem to have made an impression on Sandy, Janine.”

She was startled. “You ran into him?”

“No, I just happened to talk to Alan over the phone
and he mentioned it.”

Janine’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. Mark looked
slightly uncomfortable, she thought. Was that possible? Just happened to speak to Alan over the phone?
Anyway, Mark’s comment seemed to require a
response of some sort. “He was rather interesting,” she
said coolly, suspecting that this information would be
passed on.

“Rather interesting?” Rena exclaimed. “That’s how
you describe someone who makes you blush and your
eyes sparkle?”

Mark chuckled, regarding Janine with slightly
raised eyebrows. She certainly seemed indifferent
about Sandy now, but Alan had also seemed to think
Rena’s sister had been impressed. “I gather Sandy is
rather wealthy,” he said casually.

Janine did not miss, however, the hint of speculation in Mark’s voice. Her eyes flared but she forced herself
to accept the notion that he was not implying what she
thought he meant. She said calmly, “I gather he makes
a point of telling everyone he is.”

“Maybe he thinks it will help him find a wife,” Rena
suggested. “Alan says Sandy’s father has offered him a
house if he gets married soon and if he finds a `proper’
wife. Though what he means by `proper’ I’m not sure.”

“Oh, someone with good manners, intelligent, welldressed, the right way of carrying herself, obedient,
interested in children. That sort of thing, I imagine,”
Mark commented. “Someone who can be counted on
to behave conventionally.”

“How dull!” Rena said. “What do you think,
Jenny?”

“I think Sandy is quite capable of making up his own
mind about what sort of wife he wants. And I suspect
that although she may not fit all of your specifications,
Mark, his father will have to approve. I certainly don’t
think Sandy wants a puppet for a wife, nor do I think
Sandy will marry just because his father offers him a
house!”

Mark stared at Janine knowingly. “Calm down,”
Rena said. “We weren’t knocking Sandy; just his
father, a little. Mark,” she said hesitantly, changing the
subject, “you don’t mind the fact that we spent the day
with Alan and Sandy, do you?”

He smiled oddly. “No, dear. I trust Alan with you
and it’s clear Sandy was more interested in Janine.”

“You know,” Rena said slowly, “it’s the first time a
guy paid more attention to Jenny than to me.”

Mark chuckled. “You’ve finally got competition, my
love, and I think that might be a very good thing.”

Janine sighed. “I hardly think I’d have been
competition if Rena had seriously tried to attract
Sandy.”

Mark looked skeptical but Rena smiled. “That’s
true. But now that I’ve got you, Mark, I don’t try any
more.

Janine felt tired. “If we’re going out to dinner, I
think I’ll wash my hair. Can I use your hair dryer,
Rena?”

“Sure. You know where the towels are? Good.
Shampoo is by the tub.”

Janine escaped to the bedroom, closing the door
after her. She wanted very much to get along with
Mark, but it was going to be difficult. Why, oh, why did
he have to be so antagonistic? It was only then that she
realized he had talked of trusting Alan and Sandy but
not of trusting Rena.