Paris Summer (7 page)

Janine smiled wryly. “A little too well, I think. We
had a nice evening, and he kissed me good night.”

“Great!”

“I don’t know. I’m confused about how I feel. But I’ll
say this, Sandy sure does know how to kiss!”

“You see what I mean?” Rena insisted. “Everything
is going great!”

Janine laughed, unable to resist Rena’s arguments
any longer. “If you say so. Do you need help with your
packing?”

“No,” Rena replied firmly. “Why don’t you go to a
museum’? Maybe the Louvre. It’s free on Sunday and
knowing you, you’d feel guilty if you left Paris without
visiting it at least once.”

“Well, if you’re sure you won’t need help…” Janine
said doubtfully, aware of her sister’s dislike for and
ineptitude at packing.

“I’m sure. I’ve improved.” Rena laughed, as though
mindreading. “Besides, Mark will probably come over
to say good-bye, and frankly I’d prefer having the
apartment to ourselves.”

“All right. How late should I stay out? Should I
telephone before I come back?” she teased.

“No, no. Just give us until five o’clock when the
Louvre closes. Now scat!”

The bouquinistes along the Seine were already open
when Janine reached the quaff. She paused for a
moment, leaning on the low wall overlooking the
Seine, absorbing the view. Below was a wide sidewalk
slightly above water level, and many people were
taking advantage of the warm day by sitting on the
walk and dangling their feet in the water. Others were
stretched out, taking a nap, and here and there couples
strolled, totally absorbed in each other. To the left was
a sturdy bridge full of traffic, to the right a footbridge.
Without hesitation, Janine decided to cross by the
footbridge. She walked toward it slowly, stopping at
every bookstall to thumb through engravings or old
books or old manuscripts. Janine was oblivious to the
Sunday strollers surging and ebbing around her. Shade
trees added to her sense of peace, and she walked little
more than a hundred feet in the first hour. Then,
abruptly, Janine found herself at the footbridge, the
Pont des Arts. Remembering the Louvre, she walked
quickly up the few steps and then paused to survey the
scene in front of her. An old man was turning the
handle of an old-fashioned music box as he sat on a
bench by the left railing. To the right a young woman
had set up an easel and was concentrating on capturing
the scene on the quaff. As Janine reached the mid-point
of the bridge she joined a cluster of people, who were
watching two young men drawing portraits on the
pavement in chalk. Another was writing poetry.

Feeling very happy, Janine hurried over the rest of
the bridge to the Louvre. There was an entrance to the
museum under the arch just opposite the bridge. For a while Janine simply wandered, awed at the immense
size of the museum and the diversity of the exhibits.
She paused to admire the Venus de Milo, then
resolutely mounted the stairs toward the Winged
Victory and gallery of paintings. With a sigh she made
the obligatory pilgrimage to the Mona Lisa, which, to
her surprise, she found disappointing.

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?”

Helene smiled wistfully and shrugged. “There is still
much time. I am younger than you, remember? But tell
me, what do you think of Mark?”

“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.”