Page 52 of Host for the Holidays
I get up and walk over to it, trying to make sense of the inscription, which is in French. I smile when I recognize a familiar name.
Madi:George Washington *American flag emoji*
Rémy:You’re joking, right?
Madi:I never joke about the land of the free and the home of the brave. Do you know where I am just by a statue? I’m very impressed right now.
Rémy:I don’t. But only because there are two George Washington statues in Paris.
Madi:Ugh. You guys are so obsessed with us.
I look around for any other evidence to give him. This is much more fun than Google Maps.
Madi:Washington is hanging out with some French guy
Rémy:. . . Le Marquis de Lafayette?
Madi:Maybe . . . *GIF of dramatic nodding head*
Rémy:*GIF of unamused dog and the wordReally?*
Madi:What?
Rémy:You are atPlace des États-Unis—United States Plaza.
Madi:Oh my gosh. Are you serious?!
I’m grinning like a fool right now. I couldn’t have planned this better.
Madi:My internal GPS brought me home.
Rémy:*GIF of a mosquito flying right into a bug zapper*
Madi:*GIF of gleaming stairway to heaven*
Madi:So where do I go for the best view of the tower?
Rémy:My favorite place is Port Debilly. You can easily walk there from where you are—it should only take fifteen minutes or so. Once you get there, take the stairs just southwest of the bridge down to the bank of the river.
Rémy:I recommend getting there at 4:50 for the best views.
Madi:That seems like an oddly specific time, but okay. Thank you!
I hesitate for a second, thinking of inviting him to come with me. But he’s with Élise, and if I want to keep the momentum of this mood, being shot down is not the best way forward.
I write out a text telling him to have fun with Élise, only to delete it. It was a lame way of getting him to tell me whether they’re still together right now, and whether she’s the “friend” he has plans with tonight. What is wrong with me?
Nothing. Nothing is wrong with me. I’m a new woman today. Everything is right with me.
I glance at the time—4:15—then put my phone in my camera bag. Time to conquer Paris.
* * *
I’m sittingon the banks of the Seine, my feet dangling over the cement walkway while I stare and stare and stare at the Eiffel Tower. The sky behind me has turned colors as the sun sets, enveloping the tower, the bridge, the trees across the river, and the boats floating along the water in an orange glow.
What is this place?! I can’t even comprehend that I’m actually sitting here right now. Are all the other people around me as paralyzed with wonder as I am?
I look to my side, then behind me. There are a few people looking at the tower from the street above, but for the most part, people are just going on with their lives.
