Pardon My French Read online

  Annike glanced up at her before returning her gaze to the bowl. “Sure,” she said. “It was really funny. Petra couldn’t stop giggling for hours afterward. It is too bad you missed it.”

  “I know.” Nicole smiled tentatively, wondering if Annike was mad at her for blowing off the play. “I just really wanted to get the homework for French class out of the way so I wouldn’t have to worry about it this weekend. I don’t want anything to distract me from spending every possible second with Nate while he’s here.”

  “Right. I got that. Well, Chloe appreciated your ticket, anyway.”

  Nicole winced. Was it her imagination, or did Annike sound a little disapproving?

  “I mean, Nate’s only going to be here for a few days,” she said, feeling a bit defensive. “Of course I want to make the most of it.”

  Annike shrugged. “Of course. Could you hand me that spoon, s’il te plaît?”

  Yep. She’s annoyed, Nicole thought as she handed Annike the spoon. She couldn’t really blame her; she hadn’t exactly been Friend of the Year material the past couple of weeks.

  Part of her felt guilty about that; she didn’t want to lose Annike’s friendship. Then again, if Annike were a true friend she should understand how important Nate’s visit was to her. Shouldn’t she?

  At that, her mind skittered back once again to Nate. She couldn’t wait to see him—and to share Paris with him. Thanks in part to her Artist’s Eye class, she had a long list of places they could go visit. The class had taken two more field trips in the past couple of weeks. Notre Dame, with its soaring interior and lurking gargoyles, had been impressive enough even to distract her from thoughts of Nate for a little while, though in the end she’d ended up imagining herself getting married in the ancient cathedral in a beautiful fairy-tale wedding. Just the day before, the class had visited the Jardin des Tuileries, one of the busiest parks in the city. Every time she saw a couple walking together, she felt an anticipatory pang. Soon, soon that would be her.

  She wondered what Nate would think of that particular park. “I can’t wait,” she murmured, imagining the two of them strolling arm in arm through the neoclassical gardens, stopping to kiss in the shadow of a topiary—

  “What?” Annike asked rather sharply, looking up from struggling to whisk egg whites by hand while simultaneously keeping an eye on the pan of melting chocolate bubbling on the stove.

  Nicole blinked, suddenly remembering where she was. “Nothing,” she said. “Um, I mean, I’ll give you a hand with that.”

  Somehow Nicole muddled through the rest of her classes that day. When she got home and checked her e-mail she found a message from Zara waiting for her.

  From: [email protected]

  Nicole rolled her eyes and smiled. If she didn’t know better, she might wonder whether Zara was a little jealous, especially after that comment about not every guy being willing to fly to visit. Zara had dated a lot of guys, but somehow she’d never ended up with one special person the way Nicole and Patrice had. She liked to pretend that she preferred it that way—“use ’em and lose ’em,” as she put it—but sometimes Nicole wondered.

  Weird to think the great Zara Adams might actually envy little ol’ me, she thought with a mixture of awe, pride, and amusement. Definitely weird.

  At that moment Luc knocked on the frame of her open bedroom door. “Anybody home?” he asked with a smile.

  “Oh! Hi,” Nicole said. Up until then she had successfully avoided being alone with Luc since the trip to Versailles. “Um, hi.”

  “You said that twice.” An amused smile twitched the corners of his mouth. “So, are you busy? I was just going to make some cookies with the kids. Thought you might want to join us.”

  Nicole jumped to her feet. “Sorry,” she said hurriedly. “I was just on my way out.” She squeezed past him in the doorway, trying not to brush up against him. He didn’t make a move to stop her as she rushed down the hall toward the apartment door.

  As soon as she was outside in the hallway, she breathed a sigh of relief. It was going to be tough getting through the next couple of months with Luc right there in the apartment half the time.

  But I can do it, she told herself as she headed for the echoing stairwell. Especially after I see Nate this weekend. That will give me the strength to get through the rest of the semester. I mean, at least I’m sort of enjoying some stuff about Paris now.

  She smiled, remembering how shocked her parents had been when she’d admitted that to them during their last phone call. It was obvious that they were thrilled but also suspicious, as if they couldn’t quite believe their plan had worked.

  Not that it did, really, Nicole reminded herself. I know they were hoping I’d get inspired to apply to, like, Harvard or the Sorbonne or somewhere instead of going to the same college as Nate. But they’ll just have to realize that all the horizon expanding didn’t change my mind about that. Even if it did show me that Paris is a pretty cool place.

  She was really looking forward to sharing some of that with Nate. She knew he didn’t have the best attitude about Paris—but then again, neither had she when she had arrived. Maybe this visit would give her just enough time to change his mind. In fact, maybe if she was successful, they could think about spending their honeymoon here someday.

  Shivering happily at that thought, Nicole realized she’d reached the bottom of the staircase. She glanced at the building’s front door, wondering if she had time before dinner to run down to the store to buy some American soda to have on hand for Nate’s visit. Then she remembered that her wallet was still in her school bag upstairs.

  “Je n’y crois pas!” she muttered, using a French exclamation Brandon and Marissa had taught her as she glanced up the stairs, trying to figure her odds of dashing in and out again without getting cornered by Luc.

  As she was thinking, she heard a key jingle in the lock. Glancing around, she saw Marie attempting to open the door with one hand while juggling a bag of groceries in the other.

  “Hold on! I’ve got it,” Nicole called, hurrying forward to help.

  “Ah! Merci, my dear,” Marie said breathlessly when Nicole swung open the door. “You are a lifesaver.”

  Fifteen minutes later the groceries were put away and Marie and Nicole were settled in the parlor with cups of tea. Nicole had already told Marie about Nate’s upcoming visit, but now she found herself telling the older woman all about her specific plans for the weekend, the words pouring out of her so fast she was surprised Marie could follow them.

  “Ah, it sounds most wonderful,” Marie said after Nicole finished describing her plans to wind up Nate’s first evening in Paris at the Eiffel Tower. “He is a lucky young man to have such a caring girl in his life.”

  Nicole shrugged. “No, actually I think I’m the lucky one,” she said. “Sometimes I wonder what would have become of me if we hadn’t met. But you probably know what that’s like,” she interrupted herself with a sheepish smile. “I mean, Renaud is pretty awesome, too. You guys must have made a totally cute couple when you were my age, right?”

  “Well, not exactly.” Marie took a sip of her tea. “You see, Renaud and I did not meet until we were both much older. We are married just nine years now, come December.”

  “Really?” Nicole blinked. Somehow, seeing Marie and Renaud together, she had assumed they had been together practically forever. “Wait, so what about before that? Were you married before?”

  She immediately realized it wasn’t a very tactful question. Luckily, Marie didn’t seem offended. “No, in fact I was engaged once, when I was not much older than you. At the last minute, I realized it was for my family that I was getting married, not for me. After that I was—hmm—cautious of marriage.”

  “Sure,” Nicole said, even though she wasn’t.

  “In any case, I was having a marvelous time and wasn’t really looking for that sort of thing.” Marie chuckled, her face taking on a nostalgic look. “Oh, I had boyfriends of course—quite a few, if I do say
so myself.” She shrugged and smiled. “I had no interest in children, so really I did not feel I was missing anything. By the time Renaud came along, I was ready.”

  “Wow.” Nicole was still trying to wrap her mind around Marie’s surprising revelation. “And you—you liked living like that? All alone?”

  Marie chuckled. “Oh, ma chérie, but I was not alone. As I said, I had all the boyfriends I pleased. More importantly, I had wonderful friends and mentors and of course my family, always. Yes, I lived alone, but I was never lonely. There were always new things to do; it was as if there was

  not enough time in the world to do everything I wished. I traveled a great deal, I studied, I wrote and painted and even danced a little. Ah, though I adore my life now with Renaud, sometimes I am nostalgic for those carefree days....”

  When she thought about it that way, Nicole understood a little better. It did sound sort of exciting in a way—being totally independent, able to do whatever one liked, whenever it struck one’s fancy. Of course, having a true love to share it with sounded even better.

  They moved on to talk about other things after that. But when she left an hour later, Nicole returned to thinking about Marie’s life story. How odd that a woman she’d thought of as so “normal” had such unusual ideas about things—things like marriage and children and happiness. As she trudged slowly up the steps toward the Smiths’ apartment, the scent of warm cookies drifting toward her, Nicole tried to imagine spending all those years alone, never getting married or having kids, instead counting on painting or other pastimes to fill her life.

  She shook her head. I guess that sort of thing could be okay if that’s how you happen to end up, she told herself, quickening her step as the scent of the cookies tickled her appetite and made her stomach rumble hungrily. But I’m glad I’ll never have to worry about living my life like that.

  “See you in Eye,” Annike said that Friday at noon as she and Nicole parted ways outside their culinary-arts classroom.

  Nicole stopped and turned toward her. “Oh! No, you won’t, actually,” she admitted. “I’m, um, taking the rest of the day off.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nate gets here later today, remember?”

  Annike rolled her eyes dramatically. “How could I forget?” she said. “It’s the only thing you talk about these days.”

  Nicole grinned sheepishly. “Sorry about that.” She wasn’t really particularly sorry, though. After all, how could anyone expect otherwise under the circumstances? “But I hope you’ll be able to meet him while he’s here,” she added. “Then you’ll see for yourself why I’m so psyched to see him!”

  “I would love to meet him,” Annike replied. “Call me.”

  “I will,” Nicole promised. “Au revoir! Oh, and if Morley asks where I am, just tell her I ate some bad sausage at the crêpe stand, okay?”

  With one last wave—and a quick glance around for any teachers who might notice her departure—Nicole continued toward the doors. Soon she was outside heading for the métro stop.

  She spent the next two hours browsing through some of the little shops she’d discovered in a neighborhood near the Île de la Cité. It wasn’t even that she needed new clothes—Nate didn’t care much about fashion anyway. But as the hour of his arrival drew closer, the thought of sitting in a stuffy classroom conjugating French verbs or discussing different ways to look at a streetlight was nearly unbearable. In the end, all Nicole bought was a pair of leather gloves as a gift for Nate. She returned to the Smiths’ apartment feeling triumphant and happy.

  I have just enough time to hop in the shower before I get dressed to leave for the airport, she thought, glancing at her watch as she pushed open the apartment door. Then I’ll get a cab and—

  She looked up from her watch and saw Luc standing in the hallway immediately inside the door.

  “Your friend Nate just called,” he said. “You are to call him back immediately.”

  Nicole stared at him, her mind not really processing this information. “Huh?” she said. “What are you talking about? I can’t call him—he’s on a plane over the Atlantic right now.” She paused, her brain belatedly catching up with things. “Um, isn’t he?”

  Luc shrugged. “He said to call him at home. That is all I know.”

  Without another word, Nicole hurried past him, heading for the phone in the kitchen. What in the world was going on? She grabbed the phone, for once barely noticing the kids screeching in the next room.

  Maybe the plane was delayed or something, she thought as her fingers flew through the international codes and then Nate’s familiar number. Or maybe something’s wrong....

  “Yo,” a very familiar voice answered on the third ring.

  “Nate?” Nicole blurted out. “What are you doing there? Why aren’t you here? What’s going on? Is everything all right—are you sick? Did something happen?”

  Realizing it might be useful to allow him enough time to respond, she forced herself to take a deep breath. On the other end of the line, Nate let out a little hangdog laugh—the one he always used when he thought she was mad at him.

  “Sorry, babe,” he said. “I know it’s, like, kind of last minute. But I don’t think I’m going to make it this weekend after all.”

  “What? Why not? What’s wrong?” Nicole’s mind was still filing rapidly through all the horrible possibilities—illness, death in the family, terrorist threats, broken bones....

  “Don’t make a huge deal about this, okay?” Nate replied. “It just didn’t really seem like the right time, you know? I mean, you’re over there doing your thing, I’m here doing mine....”

  Nicole was so stunned that she was having trouble forming a coherent thought, let alone a meaningful sentence. “But—whu—I—” she stammered.

  “Listen, I should hang up,” he said before she could pull herself together. “Dad’s on my case already about all the major long-distance charges, you know? We’ll talk later. Bye, Nic.”

  There was a click in her ear as he hung up. Nicole just stared at the phone in her hand for a moment, too stunned to feel anything. Then she heard someone coming into the kitchen.

  “Everything is okay?” Luc asked.

  His words broke through her daze like a hatchet through plywood, sending painful splinters flying everywhere. No, everything was not okay. Not even close.

  “Just leave me alone,” she mumbled, racing past him and out the door.

  Sometime later she found herself emerging from the métro stop near the Centre Pompidou and the Stravinsky Fountain. For a moment she wasn’t quite sure how she’d ended up there—the time between leaving the apartment and arriving in that spot had been nothing but a blur of sadness, guilt, anger, and confusion.

  Then she realized what she had done—she had automatically started the visit without Nate. This was to have been the first stop on his get-to-know-Paris tour. She’d imagined it so many times that her feet had taken her here even while her brain and heart were too busy short-circuiting to pay attention. Her stomach constricted painfully as she thought about how different her feelings would be if he were there with her at the moment. They would have their arms wrapped around each other, still basking in the novelty of being together again and probably acting a little silly. She would point out the fountain, and then Nate would look up at the funky, colorful sculptures and say Wow, that’s pretty cool....

  Nicole shook her head, the fantasy shimmering like the ripples in the water beneath the spitting fountains. No, he wouldn’t say that, she reminded herself. He’d probably say something like Man, it takes a bunch of French freaks to call this kind of weirdo junk ‘art.’

  She grimaced, her boyfriend’s rude imaginary comments ringing in her ear. After all, Nate wasn’t the type to appreciate anything too new and different.

  Biting her lip, she did her best to return to the fuzzy, romantic version of her fantasy. There was no doubt he would be all over her at this point in her tour, weird sculptures or not
. In fact, he would probably complain about having to wander around the city looking at stuff instead of just finding a handy spot for a nice make-out session.

  Who cares about a bunch of freaky water-spittin’ statues? he would say with that little half smile she’d always thought was so sexy. I’m only here to see my girl anyway.

  She walked on slowly, looking around at the familiar plaza with a new awareness. Over the past couple of months, certain things had faded out of her consciousness as she got used to them. Things like the little dogs that accompanied their owners everywhere in Paris—and the dog poop they all too frequently left behind on the sidewalks, streets, grass, steps, and everywhere else. Nicole had become adept at watching where she stepped, but she could imagine Nate’s reaction if he accidentally soiled one of his pristine top-brand basketball shoes in a stray pile.

  He’d probably cuss at the top of his lungs for about ten minutes and then threaten to drop-kick any Parisian pooch that looked at him funny, she thought ruefully.

  It wasn’t just the dog poop, though. There were a lot of other things that had confused, annoyed, or otherwise bothered Nicole at first that she hardly noticed anymore. Such as the clouds of cigarette smoke that seemed to hang everywhere. Or the kamikaze scooters that dodged in

  and out of traffic and threatened to run people down on the sidewalks. Or the pervasive odor of urine that popped up at odd times even in the ritziest areas of the city. Even the irritation of not being able to understand most of the conversation going on around her or read the signs on the shops had faded as she learned more of the language.

  When I got here I thought all those things were totally gross or scary or frustrating, she remembered. When did that change?

  She sank down on a nearby bench, sending a small flock of roosting pigeons scattering. Her mind was spinning with uncomfortable new thoughts.