A Summer in Paris (18 page)

“It’s a wonderful idea.” Pierre came storming into the apartment, acting as if he hadn’t heard a word she had said. “It’s about your job.” He plopped down in a big, overstuffed chair.

“What about my job? What’s your brainstorm?” Despite herself, Nina was finding that Pierre’s excitement was contagious.

“You don’t have any working papers, right?”

“Right….”

“And that means that you don’t qualify for a regular job.”

“Right.”

“Well, then, I think I have found a solution. How about working for an individual, somebody who pays you out of his own pocket?”

“You mean doing something like baby-sitting?”

“That’s one possibility. I was thinking more along the lines of being someone’s personal assistant. Someone like—oh, I don’t know, someone like an entrepreneur, someone who is in business for himself ... or someone who works free-lance, maybe in a creative field. A writer, perhaps.”

Nina was silent for a long time as she pondered Pierre’s idea.

“That would be kind of exciting,” she finally said, speaking slowly. “And it could turn out to be a good opportunity for me to learn. If I hooked up with the right person, that is.”

“That,” Pierre said, his wide grin suddenly fading, “is the only negative part of my idea.”

“What is?”

He shrugged his shoulders, meanwhile looking at her in defeat. “Finding the right person.”

Nina sighed. “Speaking about negatives,” she said slowly, “I think you’d better give me a chance to tell you my news.”

Pierre’s expression darkened. “What has happened, Nina?”

“Well, maybe it’s not that bad. I mean, it all depends on how you look at it....”

She sank onto the couch, opposite Pierre.

“I just got a telephone call from my parents.” There was something he had never seen before in her dark brown eyes, something that looked very much like fear. “Pierre, they’re coming. They’re coming to Paris.” Her voice was hoarse, her words barely audible.

Pierre, meanwhile, was confused. “Your parents? They are coming here? But why?”

“To try to talk me out of staying on after the summer is over, that’s why!”

“But ... but I thought they had accepted what you told them. I thought they agreed that you were old enough to start making your own choices.”

“That’s what I thought, too.” Nina sighed. “But it turns out they think I’m making a rash decision. At least, that’s what they said on the phone just now. They finally came out and said all the things that I was so surprised they didn’t say when I first told them about my plans. They think I’m doing a terrible thing, throwing away my future because of some ridiculous case of puppy love....”

The tears that had been gathering in her eyes began sliding down her cheeks. “Oh, Pierre! They don’t understand at all.”

He got up and went over to the couch. Putting a protective arm around her, he said, “Nina, this is not such an awful thing. They simply want what is best for their daughter. They love you, and they want to keep you safe.”

“They want to keep me a little girl.”

“They want you to be happy. Who could blame them for that?” He lifted her wet face up to his. “What are you so afraid of,
ma chouchou
? That they will disapprove? You already know that they are not happy about your decision to stay here in Paris. And they are certainly not happy about the fact that you are starting to do what you think is best, instead of what they think is best for you.

Perhaps it will be a difficult visit. That, I can understand. But I will stay with you the whole time they are here, if it will make it easier for you.”

She shook her head. “Thank you, Pierre. But this is something I must do alone.... Now, let’s not let this ruin our afternoon together. I’m glad you came by, and I’d rather talk about happier things. Let’s put our heads together and see if we can come up with any ideas of someone who might want to hire me as an assistant.”

Nina took a deep breath, determined not to be too consumed by her nervousness about her parents’ upcoming visit. She knew their purpose was to talk her out of staying on in Paris, pursuing her dream of writing, remaining with the young man she loved. While she recognized that they were only doing what they thought was best, and that they were doing it out of love for her, she was still resentful.

Don’t they trust me? she thought. Don’t they realize that I am old enough, and capable enough, to start making my own decisions? Can’t they accept that only I know what’s best for me? Don’t they understand what it means to have a dream?

Even more than feeling resentful, she realized, she was feeling afraid. After all, there was one possibility that was too frightening to tell Pierre about, or even to admit fully to herself. And that was the possibility that her mother and father would actually succeed in their mission of talking her out of her decision to stay in Paris.

“Mom! Dad! Welcome to Paris!”

Nina hoped that her greeting sounded sincere as she stood at Gate 14 of Charles de Gaulle Airport, waving wildly at her parents as they filed off the plane and into the lounge. She was truly happy to see them, not having realized up until this moment just how much she had missed them. Even so, the butterflies in her stomach would not let her forget that her mother and father were here to do a lot more than visit the Eiffel Tower and the other sights of Paris.

“So this is Paris,” Mr. Shaw grumbled. He hoisted his heavy tote bag over his shoulder, looking around the airport with a frown. “If you ask me, it looks like it’s as bad as New York.”

“How was your flight?” Nina asked cheerfully. “Here, Mom, let me carry that for you.”

“The flight was all right, I guess.” Mrs. Shaw sounded tired as she handed her overnight bag to her daughter. “It was just so ... so long.”

“Look at this. All the signs are in French,” Mr. Shaw observed. He sounded as if he were taking it personally. “How on earth am I supposed to understand anything while I’m here?”

“I’ll translate for you, Dad,” Nina said. “Well, at least you both got here in one piece. Do you have any other luggage?”

“Tons of it,” Mr. Shaw said. “Your mother brought half the house with her. She even brought toilet paper.”

“Toilet paper?”  Nina stopped in her tracks. “Mom, they have toilet paper here.”

“Well, now, I wasn’t sure it would be the kind I’m used to. You know me. I’m the kind of person who likes things to be predictable.”

“That’s right,” Mr. Shaw agreed heartily, sounding proud of his wife. “No surprises for this lady.”

“Nina, I’m a total wreck,” Mrs. Shaw said. “I don’t suppose there’s anywhere I’ll be able to take a hot shower, is there?”

“Mother, you’ll find that Paris is a very civilized place,” Nina said in an even voice. “Not only do we have toilet paper, we even have hot water.”

Her father cast her an odd look at her use of the word “we.” She simply ignored it, instead attempting to change the subject.

“I hope you’re planning on staying long enough to see some of the sights. There are so many wonderful museums and cathedrals, and of course the chateaux, the castles, if you’re up for a trip out of the city....”

“We plan to stay only as long as it takes to talk you out of this cockamamy idea of yours,” Mr. Shaw said. He was talking so loudly that several people turned around to look at him. “Unless, of course, you’ve already come to your senses.”

Nina’s silence told them she had not changed her mind about her decision to stay. Her mother quickly tried a new tack.

“You know, Nina,” she said pleasantly as she followed her daughter through the crowded airport, toward the exit, “your father came up with the most wonderful idea. Instead of all three of us leaving together from Paris, he thought that once you got all your things packed up, we could take a week or two and see some of Europe. You know, travel—all three of us, as a family—to Holland, Spain, Germany ... wherever you like.”

The true meaning of her words was not wasted on Nina. Her mother was offering her a bribe. Come home with us, she was saying, be a practical, obedient daughter who does what we think is best for her, and we’ll reward you with a trip around Europe.

Instead of feeling at all enticed, however, or even the least bit sympathetic to what they were feeling, Nina was simply irritated. “Perhaps you two would enjoy traveling around a bit,” she said. “It would give you a chance to have kind of a second honeymoon.” She couldn’t resist adding, “Surely you don’t want a third wheel getting in your way, spoiling your time alone together.”

Mrs. Shaw, seeing she wasn’t going to get anywhere, quickly dropped it. “Nina, I’m exhausted,” she said as the threesome piled into a taxi. “Your father and I both need to get some rest. That plane ride was endless. Half the time your dad was as white as a ghost.”

“I was fine,” Mr. Shaw insisted. “I just had a little indigestion, that’s all. That food they serve on airplanes leaves a lot to be desired.”

“At any rate, I’m not going to be any good to anybody until I have had a shower, a nap, and a good hot meal. I’m desperate for a cup of tea.”

Mrs. Shaw peered at her daughter. “Nina, honey, it
is
safe to drink the water here, isn’t it?”

It wasn’t until that evening that Mr. and Mrs. Shaw pronounced themselves ready to reenter the world again. Just as they had promised, they had spent their first day in Paris resting at the hotel. Nina, meanwhile, took advantage of her unexpected free time to seek out Pierre.

“So how do your parents like Paris so far?” he asked. They were strolling along the Seine together, watching the
bateaux mouches
, the tour boats, sailing along lazily. The tiny dots that were the people riding on them, Parisians and tourists alike, were glued to the sides, ogling the unparalleled view of the city that traveling down the city’s main waterway afforded them.

“So far, they’ve done nothing but complain,” Nina returned. “Honestly, you’d think they were visiting Mars or something.”

“Nina, to them Paris might as well be Mars,” Pierre reminded her, amused.

“Well, I’m just warning you. Don’t be insulted if it turns out they’re not the least bit interested in meeting my favorite Martian,” Nina said with a scowl.

Her prediction turned out to be wrong, however. That evening, over dinner, the first real chance the three Shaws had to sit down together to talk while on French soil, Pierre du Lac was one of the very first topics of conversation her mother brought up.

“So, Nina,” she said, primly arranging her napkin on her lap. “When do we get to meet this young man of yours?”

“What the heck
is
this stuff?” her father was grumbling, peering at the menu. “Pool... pool...”

“Poulet,” Nina said. “It’s French for chicken. Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll order for you. I know what you like.”

She only hoped the modest restaurant she had chosen for this family dinner did, indeed, serve steak, cooked medium rare, and plain baked potatoes.

“Is he in Paris?” her mother went on, not willing to be thrown off the track. “This boy, this ... this ... What’s his name again, Nina?”

“I think you mean Pierre,” Nina said. “I can understand that you’re interested in meeting him,” she went on, “but I don’t think you understand that having met Pierre is only part of the reason I’ve decided to stay on in Paris. It’s the city itself I can’t bear to leave. I can’t tell you how much I love it here. It’s as if ... as if I belong here, as if I were always meant to be here.”

“Hah,” her father snorted. “Now that’s a silly notion, if I ever heard one. You’re an American, through and through.”

“I probably am,” Nina replied. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy living in another country, or that I can’t benefit from the experience of being a part of something completely different from everything I’ve ever known.”

Her voice was gentle as she said, “You know, Dad, I probably won’t end up staying here forever. You’re right; I am an American. But for now, living abroad is simply what feels right to me. It’s what I want.”

“And college?” her father demanded. “What about that?”

“I’m not saying I won’t ever go to college. I’m just not ready to go to college
yet
. At least, not back at home, in the States. I do want to take courses at the Sorbonne in the fall. I don’t intend to stop learning, you know. I just want to do it my own way. And that means staying here.”

“How about your friends, Kristy and Jennifer? What are their plans?”

“They’re going back, just as they’d always planned.” Nina couldn’t resist adding, “Jennifer is like you, Mom and Dad. She can hardly stand being away from home. She’s been like a fish out of water since the day she got here.”

“What about money?” her father persisted. Nina could see that he had come armed with a whole list of arguments.

“I thought I’d mentioned over the telephone that I plan to get some kind of job.”

“A job, huh? Doing what? A young girl like you .... Do you have this job yet?”

“Well, no. But I have some ideas. And I have some friends who are helping me out. Don’t worry, Daddy. I’m not asking you to support me forever.”

“It sounds as if you’ve thought of everything,” Mrs. Shaw interrupted crisply. “But I still want to hear about this boy, this Pierre. Who is he? What’s going on with the two of you? Surely you’re not giving up college and your future and everything else that’s ever meant anything to you for some teenage romance?”

It was at that point that Nina realized that all of her efforts to explain were in vain. It was a waste of time trying to make her parents understand her point of view. Her mother was absolutely right when she commented that Nina had thought of everything. Yet that fact meant nothing to either her mother or her father. All they could see was that their daughter, their little girl, was being rebellious, insisting upon doing something that they could not comprehend—and certainly not accept.

And then, all of a sudden, her mother spoke in an entirely different tone of voice. “Oh, Nina, it’s just that Paris is so ... so far away.”

The intensity in her voice prompted Nina to look at her—really look at her, for the first time since her parents had arrived in Paris. And the expression on her mother’s face caused her stomach to tighten.