“Five years, Sez. Five! If he didn’t want to do long-distance, he bloody well should have said so. He didn’t even last a month before he started screwing someone else.” The tears threaten again.
“Cat, you have every right to be furious with him. Are you sure it’s okay to stay with him tonight?”
“I have to. I can’t really afford my own hotel room.”
“Sure, okay, that makes sense.”
“I’m gonna go, now.”
“Okay, darling.”
“Sez?”
“Yep.”
“Paris is a shitty place to break up.”
“I know, Cat. I’m so sorry.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
Chapter 3
The ablution block was a nightmare.
Although we hustled over as soon as the coach arrived at the campsite, the line for a shower was already thirty-deep and there were only six shower stalls.
“I don’t need a shower,” I declared. I mean, I did, but I could make do with a wipe down with a wet washcloth—good thing I’d brought one.
“Well, I stink,” said Lou. “I’m gonna wait it out.”
“Meet you back at the shed?”
“Yup.”
For the umpteenth time that day, I finessed my way through a crowd. I positioned myself in front of a sink, wet the washcloth, and got to work on the important bits, ignoring the screwed-up noses I could see reflected in the mirror. I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and ran wet fingers through my wavy hair. It would have to do. By the time I walked past Lou on my way out, she’d progressed two places in the line.
“Good luck.” She rolled her eyes.
Back in the shed, I reapplied my makeup and added some product to my hair to up the shine factor. From my case came a blue jersey wrap-around dress which accentuated my waist. I slipped it on along with a pair of silver flats. They weren’t great for walking long distances, but I am not the type of woman who can pull off a pretty dress and sneakers. I added my midnight blue motorcycle jacket—another TK Maxx special—spritzed on some of my favourite perfume, L’eau d’Issey, and sat ready on my bunk scrolling through my Twitter feed—all before Lou returned.
Finally, the cabin door swung open and Lou, wrapped in a towel, barrelled through.
“You walked across the campsite like that?”
“I know! I forgot to bring my clean clothes.”
“Well, I’m sure there were many appreciative onlookers.” Her mouth pulled taut. She seemed dubious.
“How long do I have?”
I checked my watch. “Seventeen minutes.”
“Darn!”
“And phooey!”
She cracked a smile. “I don’t swear much.”
“I gathered. I’ll leave you to it,” I said as she frantically rummaged through her suitcase.
I stepped out into the cool, but still, evening and made my way over to a picnic table. Craig was reading something on his phone, and I sat down next to him.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” he replied, seeming distracted.
“Want some privacy?”
“What? Oh, no.” He put his phone face-down on the table.
“Everything all right?”
“It’s my mom.”
“And …?”
He sighed. “Things aren’t good with her boyfriend.”
“Oh. Sorry to hear that.”
“He’s kind of a dick.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah—I’m trying to be supportive, but really, I hope they break up. He’s not good enough for her.”
“Doesn’t sound like it.” Heavy load for a young guy. He picked up the phone and spun it in his hand. “How was your day in Paris?” I asked brightly.
To his credit, he didn’t wallow, and his grimace gave way to a smile. “It was intense.”
“Really?”
“I’m from Oregon,” he said, as though it was the backwater of the earth. “I’ve been to Washington and California, but that’s it. So, yeah, Paris kind of blew my mind. I mean, this place is old, and everything—the buildings, the bridges, everything here is like, really beautiful. In a way, it doesn’t feel quite real.”
“I know what you mean.”
“But I thought you’d been here before.”
“I have, but it feels different this time. Being with Lou has helped. She’s so wide-eyed about everything, it’s like I’m seeing it for the first time too.”
He nodded as though he understood, and I wondered at how mature he was. Not that I’d tell him. I didn’t want to come off as condescending. “So, you ready for a girls’ night out?” I teased.
“For sure.”
“Do you have any idea what you’re in for?” I raised my eyebrows at him.
“Not a clue. But I’m game. Hopefully, it’ll keep my mind off my mom.”
“I made it,” said an out-of-breath Lou from behind us. We turned around in sync.
“Looouuu. You look hot,” I said, taking in her maxi dress, cropped denim jacket, silver hoop earrings, and barely-there-but-very-pretty makeup. She grinned and did a couple of curtsies.
“Not bad for fifteen minutes, huh?”
“Oh bollocks.” I checked my watch. “The coach!”
We made it—just. Georgina threw us her signature schoolmarm look, her mouth twisted like a pretzel. It would have ticked me off if I wasn’t so impressed. I had no idea a mouth could do that. Telling her we wouldn’t be joining the group for dinner made it worse. I hurried down the aisle before she could give us detention.
***
Dinner was sublime. The conversation got a little heavy when Dani lamented the wedding she was missing, but the food was fantastic. And all we’d done was step off the coach, head in the opposite direction from the tour group, and follow our noses.
We’d been dropped off on the Left Bank, and within minutes came across a street lined with cafés and bistros. With Dani being French-Canadian, we let her take the lead and she selected a smaller bistro in the middle of the block which had room for the five of us.
In rapid-fire French, her tone slightly officious, she requested a table. Our waiter nodded curtly and showed us to a cramped table, which, by the time we worked out the seating arrangement, bore bread, a large bottle of sparkling water, and five small glasses.
The smells coming from the tiny kitchen were incredible and my mouth watered at the thought of proper French food. I certainly didn’t count the lunchtime baguette.
The menu was written on a chalkboard which hovered precariously above Craig’s head. I had enough French to make out most of the dishes, but Dani translated the whole thing for us. It didn’t take long, as it was the kind of place where there were only three choices per course. I figured that with such a limited menu, every dish would most likely be delicious.
They were. I had onion soup to start, then cassoulet de lapin—rabbit casserole—and I finished with tarte aux poires—pear tart. After my first bite of the tart, I groaned with pleasure and Jaelee asked if I wanted to be alone with it. I had no idea what the others ate; I was in my own little culinary heaven.