It was odd sitting there in the nearly empty plane. Only a few people had remained aboard: a mom with an infant, an elderly couple, a pair of teens stretched out across the empty seats and sleeping. The general atmosphere was quiet and peaceful. And to her relief, she no longer felt anxious and nervous. Just sad. Very sad. And lonely.
The plane slowly began to reload with noisy passengers and eventually taxied out for takeoff. This time she didn’t freak out. She didn’t have a death grip on the armrests. But as she looked at the empty seat beside her, she missed her seatmate. More than she cared to admit. She desperately hoped that in her rush to spew out her phone number, he’d gotten it right—and she wanted to kick herself for not getting his number. She didn’t even know his last name. Just Kyle. Kyle from Seattle. Kyle the clockmaker from Seattle . . . on his way to Oslo. She tried to recall how long he planned to stay in Norway. Probably longer than she planned to stay in Paris. Had she even mentioned she’d only be there a few days?
Despite her gloom about not having Kyle’s pleasant companionship in Paris, Simone instantly fell in love with the beautiful city. Gaping out the window, as the taxi transported her from Charles de Gaulle Airport to her hotel in the city, she felt like a starry-eyed tourist but didn’t even care. There was so much to see! She’d already left a message with Andrea, assuring her that she’d safely arrived, and downplaying her bouts with flying phobia. She thanked her friend for pushing her to take this trip, promising to tell her more about it later.
Although she’d planned to take a nap, once she entered the elegant old hotel and used her stilted French in order to check her bags until her room was available, she suddenly lost all desire to sleep. Her previous exhaustion from the long flight seemed to have evaporated in the damp Parisian air. So, dressed in a long warm coat and comfortable boots, she spent Friday afternoon strolling the charming streets and seeing the picturesque sights, finally stopping for an early dinner at a small café not far from her hotel.
As she sat by the window in the café, it was already getting dark outside, and golden lights began to twinkle and glimmer up and down the avenue. With the pavement still damp from the afternoon rain, the scene reminded her of a French impressionist painting. Jaw-droppingly gorgeous. She glanced around the busy café, curious as to why other diners weren’t staring out the window like she was. Because it looked truly magical. It was all she could do to control herself from yelling out to the rest of them, “Look, look—you’re missing it!”
It felt a bit strange to eat alone in the most romantic city in the world. Once again, she found herself missing Kyle. More than ever. Sure, it seemed a little crazy since—she reminded herself again—she’d only known him a few hours. Hopefully he was enjoying Norway. And hopefully he had her phone number.
As she went to bed, she wondered if she’d overblown her time with him. Had her phobia of flying made his empathy and help seem more than it was? Had she imagined his interest in her was something beyond that of a concerned fellow traveler? But he’d asked for her number? Still, she knew it was best to let it go and simply enjoy her time here in Paris. Que sera, sera . . . whatever will be, will be.
Simone spent all day Saturday visiting even more sights. Playing the tourist, she’d booked a bus tour that promised the “full Parisian experience.” She knew she had a lot to soak in and just three short days to do it. But all the while, getting on and off the bus at the various highlights, including the Eiffel Tower, Notre-Dame (which, thanks to reconstruction, had to be viewed from the street), the Louvre Museum, and more, she’d kept her phone handy and turned on, just in case Kyle should call.
She wondered if perhaps he’d already scattered his father’s ashes . . . maybe he was on his way to Paris by now. Although that seemed a bit too fast. Still, it would’ve been fun to experience these remarkable places with him. Not on a bus like this . . . but for an inexperienced traveler alone, it seemed a wise choice. And, really, the tour was enjoyable, and the tour guide was interesting. Yet by the end of the day, she felt discouraged and a bit disappointed. Still no word from Kyle.
She was just getting off the bus when the tour guide announced their company still had a few seats available for the City of Lights night tour. “We embark at seven. Two hours of Christmas lights and champagne,” he told her. “Trust me—this sight—you do not want to miss.” And so, Simone bought a ticket, and after a quick bite to eat, climbed back onto the tour bus.
As they rambled through the festively lit city, leisurely moving past many of the sights she’d already seen by daylight, like the Eiffel Tower, Champs-Élysées, and Arc de Triomphe, Simone felt completely awestruck. The city by night was luminous magic . . . like another world. Glittering Christmas trees lined avenues, strings of lights reflected over the river, and Viaduc des Arts and Place Vendôme sparkled like glittering treasure chests. The entire city was illuminated for the holidays. Even better than what Kyle had described on the plane. Although it made her a bit blue to remember her seatmate. If only he were here!
As she returned to her hotel, she felt silly for caring so much about a man she barely knew. Kyle obviously had not felt the same way. He was simply a nice guy trying to lend a helping hand, and it was ridiculous for her to continue obsessing over him. As she went up to her room, she recalled what he’d said about how difficult prayers . . . that they were the best prayers . . . or something to that effect. So she prayed that his time in Norway would be wonderful and all he hoped for, and she prayed that when he eventually made it to Paris, he would enjoy it as much as she had.
Even though Sunday was her last full day in Paris, Simone no longer felt driven to take in everything. By now she realized that could take months, possibly years. Plus, she was a little worn out from the time change and all her sightseeing. Today was a day to slowly soak in the quieter beauty of the city, which seemed to be resting as well. After a midday stroll, between rain showers and stopping by Sainte-Chapelle Cathedral for a quiet moment of prayer, she was content to return to her hotel for an afternoon cup of tea and a plate of delectable pastries.
Then, grateful for her charmingly old-world room, she packed her bags in preparation for tomorrow’s train ride. Simone had no idea what she would find in Avre, or if any relatives still lived there, but she wanted to arrive with all her bearings and not overly bedraggled. She went downstairs for another early dinner.
Once again, it felt a bit lonely to dine alone in the City of Love, but at least the restaurant wasn’t too busy at this hour, and the food, as usual, was delicious. Afterward, she wandered outside to admire the luminous splendor of Paris by night one last time, taking a few photos on her phone to send to Andrea. Noticing she’d received no new calls, she went back inside, trying not to feel disappointed over Kyle’s silence. Looking forward to a nice hot bath with the hotel’s lovely toiletries, she knew it was best to forget about Kyle and be grateful he’d been there when she needed a friend.
Before she went to bed, she prayed once again that his path would go smoothly in Norway and later in France . . . and that God would bless his pursuit of an apprenticeship and subsequent career as a clockmaker. Kyle the clockmaker. For some reason the thought made her smile. God bless Kyle the clockmaker! From now on, Simone was determined to put the clockmaker out of her mind . . . and heart.