ESCAPE TO PARIS

Chapter Four

Reya's stay in Paris was bordering on surreal in the best way possible, as she found herself hidden away in Madame Billeaux's private garden. Exotic plants surrounded her, with fruit trees further down the path, and vines all along the wall. The sound of chirping birds and the constant trickle of an old stone fountain rounded out the magical ambience.

In her time so far with Madame Billeaux and her grandson—time spent enjoying wine with the finest cheeses and generous amounts of baguette—Reya had learned that her grandson's name was Francois, a professor who was currently on sabbatical and doing some medieval research. The way he was dressed he looked more like a struggling student than a professor, or maybe that was simply the "sabbatical look." As she sipped her wine she noticed that his dark hair looked lighter in the sun, and that his green eyes lit up with little flecks of gold. She didn't think too hard about why she was focusing on these physical details, or the fact that he had a deep dimple on the right side of his face when he smiled. She was observing him as randomly as noticing the details of the garden; it wasn't a big deal.

"I said how much longer are you here for?" Francois said. "Did you hear me?"

Reya suddenly realized her casual observation of Francois had put her in a trance. Maybe he was a little more mesmerizing than the garden after all.

"Three and half weeks!" she quickly said. "Or three weeks and two days," she added. "It's flying by."

"And what have you seen of our fair city?" he said, slicing himself another piece of cheese.

Reya began listing off her adventures systematically: "I spend a day at the Louvre museum, walked along the river, visited the Notre Dame cathedral...and walked some more. A lot in fact."

"Yes of course," he said. "Typical first-level tourist stuff."

Reya frowned. "First-level? You make it sound like I'm in grade school."

"Well..." he said, as Madame Billeaux gently laughed.

"I have a Bachelor's degree in business, goddammit!" She immediately put her hand over her mouth. "Sorry for cursing, Madame Billeaux."

Madame Billeaux laughed harder. "If you only knew the things I've heard."

"I'm simply saying that without the guidance of a local, you'll only get so deep in your exploration of Paris," Francois said.

She crossed her arms and accepted the challenge. "Well A: I just haven't had a chance to dig deeper. And B: who should guide me on this exploration?"

He wiped his mouth with his napkin and stood. "I must go now."

To Reya's surprise she found herself a little disappointed, and more and more curious about Francois's perspective on Paris.

In French customary fashion, he 'double-cheek' kissed both Madame Billeaux and Reya. The feeling was completely formal, and before Reya knew it he was gone.

"So..." Madame Billeaux said with a sly smile. "What do you think of my grandson?"

"Oh no," Reya said shaking her head. "No, no, no. You're not getting out of telling me about your life." She refilled both their wine glasses. "So you served in World War II?"

"Yes," she replied solemnly. "As a nurse at the infirmary for injured soldiers. And don't let anyone tell you that being a nurse wasn't the same as serving."

Reya gasped. "Who would say that? I'll destroy anyone who would say that!"

Madame Billeaux smiled. "Thank you. And I must add that I am not exaggerating." She sighed. "Just imagine injured soldiers who could not even stand arriving in droves, and not enough doctors to carry them. Which left us nurses having to transport them ourselves." She pointed to her bicep. "I became, how you say—a female bodybuilder—in those days."