Paris

Ch 3 - Sunshine

I took a deep breath in, nervous to knock.

I'd had the time of my life travelling, but something told me that this would be my last destination. I'd met so many people and made so many new friends. It's funny how social I've become in the little time that I've spent away from home.

I even changed my hair, cutting it into a pixie cut. If Fifi saw me, she would die from disbelief. She's tried for years to get me to be adventurous with my hair, but I've always been terrified. It was in Italy when I decided screw it, let's do it!

I haven't found my calling just as yet, but I still have hope, especially now that I was in the city of love and lights. I feel like there's no better place to find inspiration than Paris. I mean, it's freakin Paris!

However, my trip took an unexpected turn when I met an old man at the market. He was struggling to breathe, and after helping him, he asked for my name, which I gave. I learnt that he's a friend of my father's.

I called my father to confirm this, and it turns out that it's true. I also learnt that the old man lives alone, something that didn't sit well with me, especially with how sick he is. He cannot afford to be alone, which is why my father and I agreed that he shouldn't be.

Which is also why my crazy self was outside his door with my bags.

"London?" he said, surprised when he saw that I was the one who'd just knocked.

"Good afternoon Mr Diaz," I said with a smile.

"What are you doing here? Come on in," he barely managed to say, opening the door wider.

I walked in, bringing my bags along with me. "I've come to stay with you."

He laughed a little. "Have you now?"

"Mhmm! A sick person like you cannot be staying alone," I pointed out.

"I have a nurse who checks in on me every week," he argued.

"That's not ok. You're too sick for a weekly check up. You need someone to live here with you," I countered.

"There's no arguing with you, is there?" he asked amusedly.

I shook my head. "Nope! You'll be wasting your time and you're already too sick to argue with me in any case."

He shook his head, laughing. "You are definitely your father's daughter."

"Funny you should mention that since he also agrees that you shouldn't be alone," I informed.

"I know. It's the only reason you're standing here defending your cause so valiantly," he teased.

"I'm glad we're on the same page. Where am I sleeping?" I asked.

"There's a guest bedroom down the passage," he replied.

"Fantastic! Have you eaten?" I questioned.

"I was on my way to making myself some soup when you arrived," he responded.

"Soup? Mr Diaz you need to eat solid foods. You're already so weak," I scolded.

"Something tells me that you and I are going to have an adventure," he said, once again amused.

And he was right.

I settled into my room before heading to the kitchen to make us food. Once we'd eaten, he told me stories about the life he's lived. I learnt that cancer is what was killing him, and also that he didn't have long left.

"What about your family? Have they come to visit?" I asked. It was night time and we were sitting out on the balcony, watching the night sky as we drank tea.