Page 115 of The Leaves In Autumn
“Forty-five years.”
I almost choke on the huckleberry chew.
“Wow! That’s awesome. I would have guessed it was a new relationship by your excitement at seeing him.”
“Well, in a way it is. We were high school sweethearts. We just got back together.”
“Oh my God!”
“Two marriages apiece, three kids of his own, and a foolish decision later, we are together. Finally.”
“How did you find each other?”
“He found me. The internet. I never would have found him. I am computer illiterate.”
“And he lived in France?”
“Yes. He had a good long marriage that produced the three children. France is where they lived all their lives.”
“If I can ask, what was the foolish decision?”
“He tried to get me to come a few years ago. But the timing was wrong. I thought it was too big a move at this stage.”
“I get it.”
She leans in and meets my gaze.
“I almost missed it completely, honey.”
“The opportunity to reconnect?”
“The opportunity to know love.”
A thoughtful expression passes her face.
“As it is, I waited too long. He’s ill now. We won’t have much time.”
“Oh no.”
My hand covers my mouth and tears rise in my eyes. I don’t even know these people. Come on. I am crying for me.
“I’m so sorry. That’s heartbreaking.”
“Not yet it isn’t. I’m going to love him a lifetime full. No more wasting precious time.”
I put the taffy away. I don’t feel like it anymore.
I’m exhausted. But the sights and sounds of the City of Lights holds my attention. Beautiful! Breathtaking in the extreme. A French Uber driver wearing an actual beret, along with that luscious accent, makes the clichés prove true. It is the epitome of chic. It makes mefeelchic just being here. Even though I am not dressed for the occasion.
The mood I was in has moved to a new place. It is near impossible to ignore Paris, as she shows herself.
All the way from Charles de Gaulle, it has been one fabulous thing after another. Architecture, gardens, fashionable walkers with groomed dogs. The smell of freshly baked bread and wafting chocolate. I have the driver to thank for that. He convinced me to have the window down. And now the Seine is beside us. Where shall I look first?
“Mademoiselle, this is the seventh arrondissement. Look there.”
The Eiffel Tower comes into view. It is close. This must be a dream, because I have never seen anything like it. Not any of it. Coming here, seeing this, and feeling like I do, cannot be a mistake.
“It is a walkable neighborhood. You will see. And there are two metro stations close to your apartment.”
