Paris Summer (15 page)

Outside the sky was clear and there was a light
breeze. A perfect day, Janine told herself as she walked
to the market. The street was crowded as usual and up and down the street merchants were shouting out the
prices of their produce. Janine moved from shop to
shop choosing what she needed, feeling very content.
Once she paused to wonder whether Sandy was
enjoying the day at Versailles, then resolutely thrust
him out of her mind for the day.

While not precisely efficient, Janine was sufficiently
well organized that by the time the doorbell rang that
evening, she was dressed and the food was almost
ready. The next few moments were full of confusion.
Helene hugged Janine and Jacques shook her hand as
he presented her with a bouquet of flowers. At the same
time, Janine invited them in and thanked them for
coming to dinner, then asked their help in finding a
vase for the flowers. As she arranged the flowers in
water, Janine said, “One of the nice things about
France is that people understand about flowers. Do
you know, this is the first time anyone ever gave me
flowers?”

“But that is terrible!” Jacques protested.

“In the United States, Jacques, men do not often
give flowers to women,” Helene said. Then she said to
Janine, “Your French is improving.”

“Barbarous!” Jacques murmured.

Janine smiled. “Would you like an aperitif? I have
some St. Raphael.”

“You know St. Raphael?” Jacques asked with some
surprise.

Janine laughed. “We are not all barbarians. Some of
us do appreciate good wine, cheese, coffee, and
flowers.”

Helene said something in rapid French to her brother. Then she turned to Janine. “Yes, we should
like a little St. Raphael. How is Rena? Do you hear
from her often?”

Janine poured the aperitif before answering. “Bonne
sante! I’ve only received one letter from Rena since she
left. It was a little strange. A moment, I’ll show you the
letter.”

Helene smiled slightly as Janine’s tongue tripped
over the unfamiliar syllables. She was serious,
however, as she handed the letter back to Janine after
reading it. “It does seem odd to me. She told me she
would be gone two or three weeks. It is much longer
than that already and still she does not know when she
will return.”

Janine nodded. “I do not understand. But at least
she seems well, and she will think me foolish for being
anxious. She has often told me I am her sister, not her
mother.”

Jacques snorted, “For me, I think you have no need
to worry. Rena knows what she does. She is not a fool.”

Helene and Janine exchanged glances, then shrugged. Janine went into the kitchen to check the
food. Though Jacques’s tone annoyed her, she had to
admit he was probably right. She sighed. She was just a
born worrier. And after all, Rena had never been in any
trouble she couldn’t handle before.

Reassured, Janine returned to the living room
carrying a bottle of wine and a corkscrew. Offering
them to Jacques, she said, “Could you open this for
me? Thanks.”

A little later, as they sat down to eat, Janine was
pleased to see that everything was in order.

After complimenting Janine on the food, Helene said, “You must tell us how you have been and what
you have been doing since we last saw you.”

Janine answered slowly, frequently searching her
mind for the correct word in French. She explained
that she had been visiting museums, parks, cinemas,
and restaurants, as well as seeing friends.

“You have other friends in Paris?” Jacques asked.

Janine smiled. “American friends. First, there is
Rena’s fiance, Mark. He goes with me to museums
every Sunday and we usually have dinner here or at his
place. And I often see him on Tuesdays when I go to the
math seminar at Jussieu.”

“But”-Helene looked shocked-“but… he is
Rena’s fiance!”

For a moment Janine was puzzled. Then she
laughed. “No, no, you do not understand. He is like a
brother! Rena asked him to look after me while she was
gone. That’s all.”

“Nevertheless,” Helene said anxiously, “be careful.
Rena is very jealous and also, I often think this thing is
fragile between them.”

“But I thought you did not like to see Mark and
Rena engaged,” Janine teased.

Helene sighed. “It is true. He would suit someone
like you much better. This worries me….1 am afraid
you and he will fall in love and Rena will be unhappy
and this will make you unhappy.”

Janine laughed again. “Don’t worry! I tell you that
we both know we only want a brother/sister relationship. Anything else would be a disaster! He doesn’t
even attract me; half the time I want to hit him.”

Jacques spoke quietly, “It is never good to be so
certain about not loving someone.”

Janine frowned and spoke defiantly, “Well, I am
certain.”

Embarrassed, Helene said hurriedly, “Who else do
you know in Paris?”

“Well, Rena’s friend Alan and his girl friend, Betty,”
Janine replied, relieved to have the topic changed.
“Also, of course, Sandy. He often comes to see me and
we go to restaurants, movies, and other places
together.”

Helene raised an eyebrow. “He is perhaps more than
just a friend, no?”

Janine nodded reluctantly. Somehow she did not
want to discuss Sandy in front of Jacques, which was
ridiculous. What possible difference could it make if he
knew about Sandy? She forced herself to answer. “Yes,
he is much more than just a friend. He wishes to marry
me.

“But that is wonderful!” Helene exclaimed. “Tell us
about him.”

“Well, he is handsome. He comes from Chicago and
his family is very wealthy. He is very nice and he loves
children. He is intelligent and will one day have his
father’s business,” she concluded.

“You must not marry this man,” Jacques said
quietly.

“Jacques!” Helene protested.

“It is true,” he insisted. “She does not love him. One
can see this on her face.”

“You are such an expert on these things?” Helene
demanded sarcastically.

“No, but with Janine this is clear,” Jacques said
stubbornly.

Janine sat quietly, feeling ill. She could not refute
Jacques although she wanted very much to be able to. Surely it was too soon to be sure whether she could love
Sandy or not`? Helene was speaking, “…very sorry.
My brother does not know his place. We will speak of
other things. Have you seen the pare des ButtesChaumont?”

The discussion was kept to such safe topics for the
rest of dinner. Even in the car going to the Comedic des
Champs Elysees, they were careful and only discussed
the coming performance. “You know Marcel Marceau?” Jacques asked as he stopped at a traffic light.

“Oh, yes,” Janine replied. “He has sometimes
appeared on American television. But I have never seen
him perform on stage.”

“It is much better,” Jacques said confidently. “You
will enjoy this, I believe.”

Janine nodded, watching for the theater. They were
arriving a little early since Jacques wanted to have time
to find a place to park the car. Luck was with them and,
with time to spare, they entered the lobby of the
theater.

“Janine!” a voice called out.

Helene, Jacques, and Janine turned. “Sandy!”
Janine said in amazement. “What are you doing here?”

“Same thing you are.” He grinned as Alan and Betty
joined them. “We’re here to see Marcel Marceau.”

Puzzled and slightly unhappy, though she could not
have said why, Janine performed the introductions.
Alan, in excellent French, suggested that after the
performance they should all meet and go somewhere
for a drink. To Janine’s surprise, Helene and Jacques
immediately agreed. As they separated to go to their
seats, Helene explained, “We must make the acquaintance of your Sandy.”

Janine managed to shake off her uneasiness as she became absorbed in the performance. As Jacques had
said, Marcel Marceau’s genius for pantomime was
even more evident on stage than it had been on
television. Perhaps it was because of his obvious
rapport with the audience.

Her uneasiness flooded back, however, when the
performance was over. In spite of Janine’s silent
prayer, Sandy, Alan, and Betty were waiting outside
for them. Several feet away she could hear Sandy’s
voice sneering at something. Fortunately, it was
impossible to understand what he was saying from that
distance. Then Sandy saw them. “Hi, folks. How did
you like the show? Hey, Alan tells me there is a place we
could go over to on the ChampsElysees. Then we
wouldn’t have to worry about finding new parking
places ‘cause we could just walk over and leave the cars
where they are.”

Helene quickly translated this to Jacques, who
nodded. No one bothered to ask Janine her opinionthey simply assumed she would agree. A moment later,
Sandy put his arm around Janine, propelling her
forward. It was a fraction too tight around her waist
and Janine realized Sandy was upset. She was afraid
she knew why and hoped he would not react by being
rude to Helene and Jacques. So far he was only talking
too loudly.

The place Alan had chosen was not, as Janine had
hoped, a cafe, but a bar with dancing. But at least it was
not full of smoke and the music was reasonably soft.
Sandy took charge of the coats as Alan shepherded
them to a table. He managed to get Janine aside long
enough to tell her, “You’d better watch Sandy. For
some reason he’s really annoyed at your friends.”

Janine nodded her thanks and quickly sat next to Helene as she saw Sandy coming. It was as bad as she
had feared if Alan were right. But at the moment Sandy
seemed amiable enough. “My treat,” he said as he sat
down. “What will you have?”

“Courvoisier,” Janine, Helene, and Jacques agreed.

Sandy shrugged and when the waiter came Alan
ordered three whiskeys and three Courvoisiers. Helene
broke the uneasy silence that followed by asking, “Did
you enjoy the performance?”

Sandy snorted. “What performance? A grown man
dressed up as a clown jumping all over the stage, not
saying a word! Pretty stupid, if you ask me.”

Janine could feel Helene stiffen. Under his breath,
Jacques muttered something and Janine wondered if
he had understood what Sandy had said or if he were
just reacting to the tone of voice. “C’mon, Betty,” Alan
said nervously, “let’s dance.”

Coward! Janine thought. The others stared at each
other. Finally Helene spoke again. “Janine tells me you
are in business. Is that why you are visiting Paris?” she
asked Sandy.

Sandy shot a questioning look at Janine, then
answered, “Not really. My father asked me to take care
of a couple of things for him, but mainly I’m here as a
tourist. You see, my father owns the business and I’ll be
running it after he retires. So he sent me to Europe to
acquire a broader outlook on things. But he’s going to
be surprised to learn I’ve also acquired Jenny, here, as a
wife.”

“It is all decided, then?” Helene asked politely.

“Sure. Of course Jenny’s still a little timid, but we’ve
got time. She’ll marry me, no question about it!” Sandy
grinned and hugged Janine.

Before Helene could respond, Alan and Betty returned warily to the table. “Hey, everyone’s still
alive!” he said with mock surprise. “I was sure a
French-American war was about to break out.”

“No, sir! We’re all friends!” Sandy said boisterously.

Everyone else took refuge in his drink at this point.
But Sandy was in no mood for silence. “Hey, Alan, I
was telling Jenny’s friends that she and I are getting
married. I’ve even got the ring picked out and-”

“Sandy,” Janine broke in with quiet desperation,
will you dance with me?”

“Sure, kitten.‘Scuse us.”

On the dance floor, well away from the table, Janine
said, “What do you think you’re doing, Sandy? You
have no right to be rude to my friends.”

“Aw, I’m sorry, kitten. I just wanted to make sure
that French guy didn’t get any ideas. I love you and I
can’t stand the thought of anyone else feeling that way
about you,” he explained.

“He’s just a friend, Sandy, and I expect you to be
nice to my friends.”

“I said I’m sorry. When we go back I really will be
friendly. Okay?” Sandy pleaded. “Please don’t be
angry with me, kitten.”

Relieved, Janine began to relax and enjoy the music.
By the end of the dance she was almost convinced that
everything would be all right. Sandy could be quite
charming when he wanted to be, and he had promised
to be friendly, hadn’t he?

When they returned to the table, Sandy kept his
promise. He was nice to Helene and even addressed one
or two comments to Jacques. The only indication that
he was still annoyed was that he kept ordering whiskey.
After the third glass, Sandy began to talk about what was wrong with France. Immediately Helene said,
“We must leave now.”

“Sure, sure.” Sandy waved at them. “Nice meeting
you.

Janine spoke quickly, “Could you take me home,
Helene? I’m not feeling very well.”

Helene nodded. Sandy broke in, “I’ll take you!”

Janine shot Alan a pleading look. “It’s Alan’s car
and I’m sure they’re not ready to leave,” she said.

Sandy shrugged sourly. “Suit yourself.”

Stiffly, the three walked out. ` Incroyablel” Jacques
muttered.

None of them felt like talking, and it was a silent ride
back to rue Bonaparte. At last, however, they were
there. “Are you really so tired you cannot talk for a
little while?” Jacques asked.

“Non,” Janine replied shakily, reverting automatically to French, “we can go up to my apartment and I
will fix some coffee.”

“No,” he said firmly. “That is too much trouble for
you. We will go to Les Deux Magots and find a quiet
corner. It will be better so.”

Janine agreed with relief

As promised, Jacques found them a quiet corner and
ordered coffee. It was Helene, however, who spoke
first. “Jacques is right, my friend. You must not marry
this man Sandy.”