Marie Sexton - Coda 05 - Paris A to Z (11 page)

L
UNCH
took about three hours, which Jon assured me was normal for Paris. When we emerged back onto the street, it was colder than it had been earlier. Our breath puffed out in clouds. The sky was low and white, and the air almost seemed to sparkle in a way I recognized from Colorado—it was threatening to snow.

Cole led us to one of the Metro stations. “I thought wed do the Arc today,” he said as we went. “It wont take as long as the Eiffel Tower, and I suspect youre all exhausted after that trip. Youll probably be ready for bed by dinner time.”

After our huge meal, and a bit too much wine (Id lost track of the number of times Jon had refilled my glass), I would have been happy to go back to the hotel and climb into bed right then, but Cole assured us that the best thing to do was to persevere through the afternoon, eat an early dinner (by which he meant eat at a normal time for Americans as opposed to eight or nine oclock like the French), and then go to bed early.

I was grateful that Cole knew where to go and what to do. The map on the Metro wall would have baffled me even if I hadnt been jet-lagged and a tiny bit drunk. Angelos eyes were huge, just as theyd been in Vegas, as he tried to take in everything at once. He brought our entire party to a halt in the Metro station to listen to a street performer sing as she played her guitar. Her clothes were dirty, and her eyes bruised. But her voice was low and sultry, sexy and seedy, and Angelo stood in front of her, mesmerized.

Cole listened for a moment to the French words. “It seems to be about an empty cage,” he said, sounding puzzled. “A bird thats gone.”

Angelo looked strangely spooked by that. “Is she sad?” Cole listened to a few more lines before answering. “Not exactly. It

Angelo turned to look at me, as if that might mean something to me, but it didnt, and I shrugged. He turned away again, digging in his pocket and coming up with a few French bills. He tossed one into her open guitar case.

“Dont let him use his own money,” I heard Cole whisper to Jon, reaching for his wallet, but Jon stopped him, shaking his head. It confused Cole, but I was glad that Jon understood. It wouldnt have meant as much to Angelo if it hadnt been his own. The others moved away then, but Angelo stood listening to a song he couldnt understand until the train came and I had to tug his hand to get him to follow.

Once we reached the Arc, we spent a while at the bottom, looking at the carvings and in the visitor center. Then we started to climb. The spiral staircase was steep and narrow, but the view from the top was worth it.

It was dusk, and streetlights were coming on. There were a dozen streets that led away from the Arc like wheel spokes. All dozen of them led into a roundabout with the Arc at its center.

“The traffic down there looks insane,” I said. “No wonder they ride the Metro.”
Angelo looked at me in disbelief. “Were in
Paris
, Zach, and youre lookin at the traffic?” He shook his head. “Youre so weird.”
“What should I be looking at?”
“Everything.” He gestured at the landscape around us. “
A to Z
says the view from heres even better than from the tower.”
“Really?”
“Maybe cause you can see that,” he said, pointing southeast at the Eiffel Tower. It was fully lit, glowing and majestic over the city.
I stood behind him and put my arm around his neck. “It is kind of pretty,” I said.
He laughed at what he probably thought was a ridiculous understatement. He leaned back, his weight so comfortable and familiar

against me. “Thanks, Zach.”
“I dont know why youre thanking me. Coles the one who brought us here.”
“I know,” he said. “But I also know you wouldnt have come if it werent for me.”
I kissed the back of his head. “Theres nothing in the world I wouldnt do for you, angel.” And other than having to face my ex, a week in Paris wasnt exactly a sacrifice on my part.
“Its too bad everythings dead,” Cole said, interrupting our quiet moment. He and Jon stood a few feet away, in much the same way Angelo and I were, Cole in front of Jon, although they werent touching. “Its so much prettier in the spring,” Cole said.
“Why
did
you pick February?” Jared asked.
Cole looked over his shoulder at Jon, and then he looked away from us, as if he were embarrassed.
Jon smiled. He wrapped his arms around Cole and kissed the back of his neck. “I guess were just impatient,” he said, and then laughed as Cole pushed him playfully away.
After leaving the Arc, we strolled up the Avenue des ChampsElysées, occasionally stopping to wander through shops and galleries. Cole and Angelo never seemed to slow down, although Jared, Matt, and I definitely did. Jon finally noticed and said something low in Coles ear. He looked back in surprise, as if hed forgotten we were even there. After that, it was back on the Metro. We made one last stop at a café for a quick dinner before returning to the comfort of our room.
Angelo had showered that morning, but I hadnt. I stood for a long time in the hot water, almost falling asleep, before dragging myself into the bed. “Youll have to give me a raincheck on fucking your brains out,” I said to Angelo.
He didnt even hear me. He was already sound asleep.

H
E WOKE
me early the next morning, and we made love as we often did.

At any other time, the sex between us might be rough, or fast, or crude. But in the mornings, it was always slow and tender. I kissed his neck and his shoulders, his wrists and the palms of his hands. His smooth dark skin still fascinated me. Even after two and a half years, he could inspire a reverence in me that took my breath away. I hoped that never changed.

Normally, after making love, hed get out of bed, and Id sleep another hour or two, but the trip had thrown off both of our internal clocks enough that we rose at the same time. We got dressed and wandered downstairs to find the rest of our group in the restaurant.

“You slept late,” Matt said to Angelo, and Angelo grinned at him. “Thats what you think.” It took Matt half a second, and then he glanced at me and quickly away, blushing. Jared and Cole laughed, but I noticed that Jon looked extremely uncomfortable. At least I wasnt alone.
Angelo sat next to Matt, and I found myself next to Jon once again. “Do you still run?” he asked me as he poured coffee for me.
“Most mornings,” I said.
“Me too,” he said. “You should join me.”

I wasnt sure how I felt about that. Once upon a time, jogging together had been routine for us. After Jon, I hadnt had a running partner again until Coda, where Matt joined me once or twice a week. Still, most of the time, I ran alone. I looked over at Angelo, who was watching Jon warily. I was pretty sure he wanted me to say no.

“Oh, honey, Zach doesnt want to jog while hes on vacation!” Cole said, coming to my rescue. “And if todays any indication, Angelo will be keeping him a bit too busy in the mornings anyway.” He grinned over at Angelo, who grinned right back. They really were way too much alike.

“Ill go with you,” Matt said to Jon, and the surprise I felt was mirrored on Jons face. But he also looked pleased.
“Great!” he said. “Its less of a chore when I have company.”
We were halfway through our meal when George arrived. I was almost as nervous about seeing him as I had been about seeing Jon. He pulled up a chair between Angelo and Matt while Cole called out to the waiter. I hardly recognized George, and yet, looking at him, he wasnt so different than he had been. His waist was a little thicker, and his hair a bit more gray. But those were superficial things. There was something else very different about him that I couldnt quite put my finger on. And then he turned to me.
“Zach!” he said, smiling. “What the hell are you doing here?”
And that was when it hit me. He was smiling. I wasnt sure Id ever seen him smile before.
“Im not sure, to tell you the truth,” I said, and he laughed.
“Zach and Jared are friends,” Jon explained, “and Cole and Jared have known each other since college, which is how Cole and I met.”
George looked like he was still trying to unravel that when Matt said, “George, youre a Cardinals fan?” George turned to him in surprise. I wondered how Matt had known. It took me a second to realize the little logo on Georges polo shirt was a red bird head.
“I am!”
“Tough break in that divisional playoff,” Matt said.
“Everybody knows the Rams cheat,” George said, obviously delighted to have somebody he could complain to about it. “Now the bastards are in the damn Super Bowl.” He raised his eyebrows at Matt. “Not a Rams fan, are you?”
“No, sir. Im a Chiefs fan.”
“So am I, this week,” George said, grinning.
Jared jumped in then, saying something about pass rushing that went right over my head, and the three of them quickly devolved into footballspeak.
“Well,” Jon said under his breath, “at least I dont have to worry about him having nobody to talk to.”
That day we saw the Sacré Coeur Basilica. It sat on Montmartre, the highest point in the city. It was a huge white building, monstrously elaborate. It had one giant dome—too long to be called onion-shaped, but too curved to be called conical—and two smaller domes on each side. There were several smaller ones on spires around it and arched windows absolutely everywhere. Inside were more arches than I could count and an elaborately painted ceiling showing Christ surrounded by what appeared to be hoards of angels.
“The guy that wrote
A to Z
didnt like this place,” Angelo said. “The only thing he liked bout it was the view from the terrace.”
“What do you think?” I asked him.
He turned to me, his eyes full of excitement. “I think its amazing.”
“I find it rather garish, myself,” Cole said to him. “Ill take you to Sainte-Chapelle tomorrow.”
“Really?” Angelo asked, with his usual wide-eyed enthusiasm. “Thats one of the places I marked in the book. It said Sainte-Chapelle had the best stained glass windows in Paris. Maybe all of Europe.”
“Thats true, doll. When you get inside, youll wonder how it even stands.”
After that, we wandered around the streets of Montmartre for a while. We saw the Moulin Rouge and the Chat Noir, and visited the small vineyard on the Rue Saint Vincent. Angelo was amazed by it all, but to me, everything looked the same. Flat-faced white buildings, gray brick sidewalks and narrow streets. It was like a maze. I never knew which way to turn, and I found it terribly disconcerting.
Cole took us to another fantastic restaurant for lunch, which once again took nearly three hours and left me with a pretty spectacular buzz. “Cole,” Matt said as we were finishing our meal, “is there any chance of finding a place to watch the Super Bowl on Sunday night?” He, Jared, and George had obviously been discussing this possibility all morning because they leaned forward on the table and looked over at Cole expectantly.
“Im sure I dont know, buttercup.”
Matts smile was a bit too tightlipped to be genuine. “You might at least know where to check, which is more than any of the rest of us know.
Vanderbilt
.”
“Thats
not
my name.”
Matts grin became a bit more smart-assed. “I know. But since you wont call any of us by our names—”
“Thats not true at all,” Cole said. “I call George by his name.”
“And Zach,” Angelo said.
Every single person at the table turned to look at him, and he seemed uncomfortable to suddenly find himself the center of attention. “What?” he asked. “Its true.”
Now everybodys gaze swung back to Cole. Cole was grinning at Angelo as if Ang had just discovered some deep dark secret.
It hadnt occurred to me that Cole referred to me by name, when everybody else had pet names. It apparently hadnt occurred to Jon either. “Angelos right,” Jon said. “You dont even call me by my name half the time. Whys Zach so special?”
Cole turned to Jon with wide-eyed mock innocence. “I dont know, love,” he said. “
Does it bother you
?”
It took Jon a second to digest that. At first I thought he was going to be angry, but then he sighed and shook his head in exasperation.
Jared was looking at Jon with obvious sympathy. “Youre either a saint or a glutton for punishment,” he said.
Jon laughed. “It does feel like a fine line sometimes.”
Cole didnt respond at all, but after everybody else had looked away, going back to their own meals and their own conversations, I saw him look over at Jon. He put his hand on Jons thigh. He looked up at Jon through his bangs and smiled.
Jon practically melted. He put his hand on top of Coles and smiled at him. He leaned over to kiss him, although Cole turned away at the last moment, and Jons kiss landed on his temple. Jon didnt seem to mind a bit.
I told myself the twinge I felt had nothing to do with jealousy.
Once we finished eating, Cole took us to the Eiffel Tower. We spent a couple of hours wandering through the displays and shops on the second floor before heading to the top. Down on the ground, it was easy for me to remember where we were, especially when we were in the older part of the city, but from the height of the tower, the spell was broken. Especially when we looked south, where smog hovered and modern-day skyscrapers rose up out of the trees.
“Isnt it amazing?” Angelo asked.
“It looks like any other city to me,” I said.