Paris Summer (21 page)

Bob was still puzzled. “I can understand that the two
of you might get frustrated, but why angry? Why does
it matter so much?”

Janine was startled. “I don’t know.”

“Well, anyway, since I don’t want to fight with you,
we won’t discuss mathematics. That’s simple enough,”
Bob assured her.

Janine nodded her agreement. There was an
awkward silence. “Perhaps I’d better join Mark,” Bob
said finally. “You say you leave Tuesday? Will you be
free before then’? I’d like to see you again.”

Janine shook her head. “I’m afraid not. I’ve already
promised various friends I’d spend the time with
them.”

“Oh, of course.” Bob frowned. “Nevertheless, it was
very nice meeting you. If you find you do have some
free time, after all, call me. You can get my phone
number from Mark. Promise?”

“All right,” Janine said with a smile. “Au revoir.”

Bob grinned, then disappeared up the stairs. “Now
why,” Janine asked herself softly, “did I turn down that
date’? He seems nice enough and I will have free
time…”

With a shrug, Janine crept back into the nook and
sat down. She was soon absorbed in her book again.
When she had finished the book, she lingered a while
longer. But there was no further sign of Bob or Mark,
so she paid for her books and left.

It was Sunday morning, early. Earlier than Janine
could ever remember being awake on a Sunday
morning. Except perhaps on Christmas when she was a
little girl. She turned away from the window and
noticed Ralph, his eyes gleaming in the half light.
“Well, what are you staring at me for?” she demanded.
“You know I always see Mark on Sunday. It doesn’t
mean a darn thing! I think of him as a brother, do you
hear me, a brother. I’m just a troublesome younger
sister to him. One he’ll be glad to be rid of Rena bought
you to protect me, not to spy on me. So why don’t you
protect me? Why didn’t you say something when I was
being so stupid about Sandy? Why didn’t you chase
him out of the apartment?”

Janine sighed. She was so tired! But there was no
point in trying to sleep any more. And it was far too
early for bakeries to be open. She was alone, except for
a porcelain cat, not even sure that Mark would come
today.

Janine woke with a start. Her forehead was resting
on her arms on the table beside a cold cup of coffee. At
some forgotten point, she realized, she had dressed.
The doorbell rang again and she hurried to answer it.
Mark regarded her for a moment, then grinned. “You
look awful!”

Janine made a face. “Thanks! Come in. I’ll make
some coffee.”

“I’ll make the coffee,” he offered. “You go wash your
face. You look as though you just woke up.”

“I did!” she retorted as she left the room.

“Such sloth,” Mark called in mock despair.

“Actually,” she said as she returned, “it’s the second
time this morning. I was up before dawn.”

Mark really looked at her this time. “More trouble?
Sandy? Or Jacques this time?”

“No,” Janine shook her head, suddenly uncomfortable. Then she remembered. “Mark, what exactly did
you say to Jacques? And why did you ask him not to
tell me?”

“I like secrets”-Mark grinned maliciously-“so I’m
not going to tell you.”

“You’re horrid!”

“Of course. All brothers are. It’s a requirement for
the job.” He laughed.

After a moment, Janine laughed also. Yes, this was
the Mark she knew. She glanced at Ralph as if to say,
“You see`? Perfectly harmless.” Nevertheless, she
turned him to face the other way.

Mark was already pouring coffee. “No croissants at
the bakery so I bought some orange tarts,” he
explained. “You look better now that you’re awake.”
Then he asked about her trip.

“So. I gather everything is settled. Bob said you were
leaving Tuesday. Or was that just your way of avoiding
a date?”

“I don’t do things that way! If I didn’t want to go out
with him I’d say so.” Too late, Janine remembered that
she had lied to Bob about being busy. Flustered, she
began to chatter. “I leave by train for London on
Tuesday, spend a week there, then fly to Helsinki. Then
I’ll go to Turku where I’ll catch a boat to Stockholm. I’ve allowed about nine days for that plus a boat trip to
Denmark. From Denmark I’ll travel mostly by train,
allowing twenty-one days to go through Germany,
Switzerland, Italy, and Greece. I definitely want to visit
Rome, Florence, and Venice. Oh, and I want to see the
Greek islands. If it sounds vague, it is. Any suggestions?”

Mark leaned back. “Well, if you’ve got the time, you
might enjoy stopping in Lausanne, Switzerland. From
there you can catch a boat or train to a lovely little
castle on Lac Leman. It’s called Chateau de Chillon.
The boats make the round trip daily. Also, you might
enjoy going from Lausanne to Geneva by boat. In Italy
I’d plan on several days in Florence. You’ll love the
city. Try to get to the science museum, it’s quite
interesting. The trains in Italy will be slow and
crowded. Don’t be surprised if you have to stand. In
fact, I’d suggest wearing jeans so you can sit on the
floor. You can drink the water in most cities, but carry
something to eat and drink on trains. Everything is
very expensive on trains. Oh, and don’t change money
on trains or in train stations if you can help it. The
exchange rate is usually terrible.”

Janine nodded, trying to file away all the information. “You sound as if you’ve done a lot of traveling,”
she said.

He nodded. “Quite a bit this year and, of course, the
times with my family. My parents and I kept
disagreeing about what to see. I lost so I was dragged
along to all the museums and famous sights. I was
angry at the time, but now I’m grateful they did.”

Smiling, Janine said, “Speaking of museums, where
shall we go today?”

Mark’s reply surprised her. “Would you mind if we didn’t go to a museum? There’s a park I’d rather we
went to,” he said.

His face seemed almost troubled and Janine was
tempted to ask why. But she knew that if he wasn’t
ready to tell her, asking would only make him angry.
She confined herself to asking, “Which park?”

He seemed relieved. “Buttes Chaumont,” he replied.

Janine started laughing and Mark scowled. “May I
ask what’s so funny?”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “It’s just such a
coincidence. Helene and Jacques told me about the
park and I was going to suggest it if you didn’t. I guess
we think alike.”

Mark, who had started to grin, abruptly turned
away. “Shall we be going?”

Puzzled, Janine assented. What had disturbed him?
Usually Mark was quite good-natured about teasing.
As they walked down the stairs, Janine thought over
everything that had been said. Something was
definitely bothering Mark.

Mark’s unnatural behavior continued. Instead of
resting a hand on Janine’s shoulder as he often did, or
taking her hand as they hurried to get on a train before
the doors shut, Mark seemed to carefully be keeping a
distance between them. He also walked faster than he
ordinarily did when Janine was with him, and she often
found herself half running to keep up. “Mark,” she
ventured once, “have you heard from Rena or
something?”

“No!” he snapped. “And I wish she’d come back to
Paris!”

That had ended that line of questioning. Then Mark
asked about Jacques, “Will you miss him, Janine?”

“I suppose. He’s really very nice. But I won’t miss him romantically, if that’s what you mean,” Janine
answered frankly. “If anything, I think of him as a
sweet fellow whom I’d like to add to my collection of
brothers.”

“Brothers!” Mark muttered angrily, then fell silent.
After several minutes he added, “So you won’t mind
not seeing him again?”

“Oh, but I will.”

“You will? Is he traveling with you?”

Janine laughed. “Of all the absurd notions! Really,
Mark. Of course not. I’ll see him when I stop back in
Paris on my way to New York.”

Mark halted and stared at Janine. They were in the
park then, walking on a path that wound along the
hillside. Janine felt very conspicuous there and uneasy
at the strange way Mark was looking at her. “What is
it?” she asked.

Mark snapped out of his trance. “Why didn’t you
mention you planned to stop back here?” he asked,
speaking slowly.

Janine was exasperated. “I thought I had. Well,
what difference does it make, anyway? If you’re
worried about how Rena would feel if I didn’t, forget it.
She probably wouldn’t even notice.” The bitterness
crept into her voice and Janine couldn’t stop it. “Oh,
she enjoys seeing me, but the only absences she ever
notices are the absences of her boy friends. Besides, the
two of you will be so busy making wedding plans you
won’t-”

Janine stopped abruptly, feeling horrified at her
voice and the unexpected tears that she was close to.
Mark was glaring at her, a strange look on his face.
Both glanced away, and Janine was more conscious
than she had ever been before of how close he was, though he stood at least two feet away. This wasn’t
what she had meant to say. This wasn’t how she had
meant to act.

Mark turned his back to Janine and ran his fingers
through his windblown hair. And when he spoke, a
moment later, his voice was oddly taut. “Let’s take this
path down,” he said as though they had been discussing
the question. “I think it leads to the island. We really
ought to see it. I’m told there is a stairway cut into the
rock leading down to the water. And you wait at the
bottom for a man to come over with a boat and row
you to shore.”

Without waiting for an answer, Mark started down
the branch of the path he had indicated. Speechless,
Janine followed. He had been wrong about the path
and it took them a while to find the right one. By that
time they could almost speak naturally. Almost. They
still couldn’t look each other in the eye. But Mark was
right about the stairway and the boat, and they were
able to laugh together about the swans and ducks. As
Mark helped Janine out of the boat when they reached
the other shore, he almost seemed relaxed. They
stopped and bought ice cream cones before wandering
up another path. Neither said much, since they were
both afraid to say anything that wasn’t safe. And no
subject seemed really safe. Janine noticed the secluded
spot first. Since other people were doing it, she
suggested they sit on the grass. Mark thought that was
a very good idea. He sat cross-legged and Janine
sprawled out beside him.

Leaning on one elbow to look at him, Janine said,
“Now, Mark. Will you please tell me what’s bugging
you.
you?”

He hesitated, then sighed. “Well, one thing is a letter I got yesterday from a friend of mine. He’s in Nigeria, a
native. Joshua helped me get the job offer I told you
about. I knew him in graduate school at Stanford.
Anyway, he wrote me and I guess I found his letter
upsetting. He says there is trouble there and that it will
probably get a lot worse soon. The usual sort of thing
except that now there’s also starting to be an antinonAfrican feeling in the country. In fact, to put it
bluntly, Joshua thinks it’s a good thing I’m not
planning to go there. He’s afraid that if I had accepted
the position, it might have been cancelled. Or worse, it
might not have been and I’d have gone and maybe
found myself in the middle of a nasty situation.”

“So it’s just as well you decided not to go there
because of Rena,” Janine said slowly.

He ran a hand through his hair. “Yes, I guess it is,”
he admitted. “But I still can’t help feeling upset. And
I’m worried a little about Joshua. I hope he doesn’t
have trouble. Though he probably won’t …he’s got
some important relatives, he once said.”

Janine waited, sensing Mark had still not told her
everything. He was silent for a while, as though
struggling with himself “You know,” he said at last, “I
guess I feel so strange about it because I’d been
seriously thinking, the last couple of weeks, of writing
Joshua and asking if I could have the position after all.
And the devil with Switzerland.”

“But what about Rena?” Janine asked in a shocked
voice.

He spoke bitterly. “That’s the only thing that held
me back. I had to talk to her about it first. I would have
tried to make her understand and accept how
important it was to me. And if she couldn’t… well, it
would have meant there were a lot of other things we had to talk about. Only Rena didn’t come back to
Paris. And I kept waiting, telling myself she’d return in
a few days, that she had to. And now it’s too late and I
feel guilty.”

“But why?” Janine asked. “You said yourself that it’s
just as well you aren’t going to Nigeria. So what
difference does it make? And what have you got to feel
guilty about? Your decision to go to Nigeria wouldn’t
have changed what’s going on there.”

“It isn’t that!” Mark snapped and looked away.
“How can I explain it to you when I don’t really
understand it myself?” He was silent for a while and
finally said, slowly, “I guess I’m upset because of Rena.
Now I won’t know whether she would have refused to
accept my decision. Or what I’d have done if she had.
Or hadn’t. And there’s no other way to find out some of
the things I need to know about Rena and myself.”