Parisian Surprise Read online

  “Alert and communicating before eight on a Saturday morning?” Allee closed the refrigerator and opened a cabinet. “This is a break with tradition.”

  “Step right up and view the incredible morning beast. It walks. It talks. It’s almost human, folks.” Tina said, in the sing-song rhythm of a carnival barker. “I’ve been up since 4:00 AM.” She smiled. “Let’s see. If it’s seven fifteen in Montgomery, Alabama, that means it’s two fifteen in France. Or maybe three something. I’m not sure if they do daylight savings time. Either way, this is an absolutely civilised time to eat breakfast on Paris time. That’s civilized with an ‘s’ like they spell it in Britain, just across the channel from Normandy. I hope you don’t want toast, because I forgot to tell you our old toaster decided to die yesterday. How’d you sleep?”

  “I didn’t,” Allee admitted. “My body was tired, but my mind simply wouldn’t cooperate. I dozed a little, but never really got any sound sleep.” She took a box of cereal from the cabinet and shook it. “This is working out perfectly. One serving left.” She used her fingers to scoop a mouthful of flakes.

  “So, neither of us got any REM sleep last night. I think that makes you a little bit crazy or something. Anyway, I’ve already done my wash. Meaning the laundry room is all yours if you can beat that redhead who smells funny and fills up all of the machines at once. She’s always there first thing on Saturday.”

  “The early bird gets the worm.” Allee continued eating cereal from the box.

  Tina gathered her dishes and began to rinse them. “Don’t you wonder why we say that? I mean, why hurry up if the reward is a worm? Who would want one? I guess maybe if you’re a bird that sounds pretty good, but for a human, why bother?”

  “Tina, you’re blathering like a madwoman.”

  “Oh. Right. I guess I am. Well, I’m so excited, and remember I’m sleep deprived. And I also drank four cups of coffee. I’d like to know how you can be so calm.”

  “I’m not, except compared to you.” Allee tossed the empty cereal box into the equally empty trash container. “So now that I’ve enjoyed a sumptuous breakfast I’ll go do my laundry and finish packing.”

  “OK.” Tina paced the small kitchen. “I think I’ll go to the gym and work off some excess energy. I’ve got to stay busy to make this day pass.”

  A few minutes later, Tina emerged from her bedroom dressed for her workout. “See you later.” She waved and jingled her keys. After exiting, she re-opened the door and stuck her head back inside. “Don’t eat all of the graham crackers. I want to have them for lunch. I’m planning to smear them with the last of the peanut butter, even though that keeps forever. I’m really going now. Bye.”

  Around noon, Allee microwaved a few stale soda crackers in an attempt to return them to a state of crispiness. She drank the last of the grape juice and rounded out her lunch menu with an energy bar. Ready to start packing at last, she placed her suitcase and backpack on her bed and unzipped them.

  Organized as always, she had a list of items to pack. She’d planned for each outer garment to do double or triple duty, to minimize the weight of her luggage. She had a separate plastic bag for each day’s outfit, including underwear. As instructed by Tina, one—and only one—pair of jeans. Besides the usual toiletries and hair care products, her carry-on included her loaded e-reader, a copy of her passport, a blank journal, phone charger, and a small device to adapt US style electrical plugs for use in France. By midafternoon, her bags were sitting by the front door, ready to go.

  “OK,” she said aloud, “I’m sure I’m forgetting something, but as Tina keeps saying they do have stores in France.” Tina. She hadn’t come home for lunch. Allee smiled. She probably decided to treat herself to a real meal in a restaurant. But, in sweats and running shoes? Not likely. Not Tina. She checked her cell phone. Almost three o’clock. She sent a quick text. Where r u?

  Working down her last-day-before-departure checklist, Allee called the church friend who’d promised to teach her Sunday school class of eight-year-old girls and left a reminder for the apartment manager to pick up the mail. She decided to call her parents while she cleaned out her traveling handbag.

  “Are you excited?” Mom asked.

  “I am over the moon, but Tina is worse than I am if that’s possible,” Allee replied.

  “You two take care of each other. Don’t forget hand lotion and lip balm.”

  “I’ve got both, and everything else but the kitchen sink. How are things in Redmont’s Crossing?”

  “Our pastor’s wife is pregnant again. She said there must be something in the well water at their house. I told her to fill up a thermos and give Joanna a drink.”

  Allee tuned out for a moment, glancing at the time and wondering again what was keeping Tina.

  Mom’s voice brought her back to their conversation. “Anyway, be sure and phone me fairly often so I don’t think you’ve been abducted by space aliens.”

  “I’ll call you as soon as we board the flight to Paris. Now, I’m not exactly sure how my cell works overseas. So, don’t create an international incident if it takes me a day or two to figure out how to get in touch. Love to Dad, Buck, and Joanna.”

  At last, a text from Tina. One word: Hospital.

  5

  Allee ran to catch the elevator going to the surgical ward. As soon as the doors opened, she sprinted into the hallway, searching for the room number the information desk gave her for Tina. Two doors past the nurses’ station, she started to go around a gurney. “Tina,” she breathed, realizing the bruised face of the patient swathed in sheets belonged to her friend.

  “I’m sorry, Allee.”

  “What on earth happened to you?”

  Tina wiped tears with the corner of her bedsheet. “I was running on the treadmill. My shoelace must have come untied. I stepped on it and tripped myself. I guess that’s what I get for teasing you all the time about being such a klutz.”

  “For crying in a bucket. Are you all right? No concussion? No broken bones? Why did they admit you? Why are you on the surgical ward?”

  “One question at a time.” Tina raised a hand, but quickly dropped it. “I have a broken kneecap. Excuse me, I mean a shattered kneecap, a messed-up foot, and I think a broken tooth.”

  Allee did not know what to say. A vision of Tina hobbling around Paris on crutches flashed into her mind. Meanwhile, a young man entered, silently hung an IV pouch on a hook, and left.

  “Does it hurt?”

  Tina rolled her eyes. “Oh, no. It feels so good I’ll go right out and smash my other knee as soon as I get the chance.”

  “Dumb question. I’m sorry. I just can’t wrap my head around this.”

  “Me, neither. In a few days, after the swelling goes down, I’ll have surgery. They’ll either put in a plastic kneecap or do a total joint replacement. The doctor doesn’t know yet which it will be, but I have a hunch it’s the worst-case scenario. We haven’t even talked about my foot yet.”

  “Oh, Tina, I’m so sorry.”

  “I am, too. Because you know, there’s no way I’m getting on that plane tomorrow.”

  “Maybe we can change the date.”

  “Get a grip, Allee.” Tina winced and moved her gaze to the oversized clock on the wall. “Only a few more minutes before my next ‘who cares’ shot.” She slowly shifted the position of her shoulders less than an inch to her left. “You have a lot to mull over.”

  “I do?”

  “Yes, you do. I’m not going anywhere this summer. Well, rehab, eventually, but nowhere else. You don’t have time to get your reservations and all those events changed, even if Fast and Thrifty would do that. Which, I doubt.”

  Allee sat in stunned silence for a moment. “Maybe I could get someone else to go with me. My Mom, or my sister-in-law.”

  “Yeah, right. Do either one of them have a passport?”

  “Oh. No.”

  “Of course not. Whose name is on the airline ticket? Mine. How long do you have to fix all th
at? Overnight, on a weekend. Face it, Allee. Either you go to Paris alone, or you’ll miss the trip of a lifetime.”

  “But, I don’t speak a word of French.”

  Tina smiled. “Bonjour means hello. That’s all you need. Take that dictionary I bought. It has some useful phrases in the back with phonetic pronunciations.”

  “I don’t think I can do this.” Allee chewed her bottom lip. “What if I get lost?”

  “Ask for directions. Everybody in Paris speaks English. Choose someone who looks like your grandmother if that suits you, but I would sidle up to the handsomest Frenchman I could find and ask him.” She shut her eyes for a moment. “Come to think of it, you could pretend to be lost even if you aren’t.”

  “I have all night to think this through.”

  “It seems to be a no brainer for me. I’d be on that plane so fast it would make your head swim.”

  A nurse swept into Tina’s room. “Time for your shot.” With a glance toward Allee, she added, “This will put her to sleep for a while.”

  Allee stood. “I’ll text you and let you know what I decide, Tina.”

  As the nurse pulled back a sheet, Tina raised her hand. “One more thing, Allee. Take my sweater with you, the red cashmere I bought yesterday and wear it when you go somewhere special. If I can’t go to Paris, at least my sweater can. When you bring it home, you can tell me all about where my sweater went. Then I’ll have an awesome souvenir from the dream trip I almost got to take.” As she snuggled into the bedcovers, Tina shut her eyes and mumbled, “You can eat the graham crackers, too. They’ll be stale by the time I’m released.”

  Allee drove home in a fog, all of her meticulous plans unraveling. As she considered her dilemma, she opted not to ask her mother for advice. She could predict what Mom’s answer would be—stay home. She shook her head at the sight of her packed luggage. She’d always dreamed of seeing Europe, especially Paris. Would she ever get another chance? Not like this one, with all of the major expenses covered by someone else.

  Wishing she’d driven through a fast food place, she ransacked the kitchen rummaging for something to eat. There were two big cinnamon rolls, reserved for her and Tina’s breakfast tomorrow. She decided to eat one tonight, supplemented with peanut butter and graham crackers, to avoid a boxed casserole.

  The apartment seemed so quiet without Tina. Allee found the French-English dictionary and Tina’s red sweater and tucked them into the top of her carry-on backpack. However, she still hadn’t made up her mind whether to go or stay.

  6

  Much to her surprise, Allee slept soundly Saturday night. On Sunday, she read her morning devotional as usual, noting that it spoke against having a spirit of fear. After a hot shower, she put on the clothes she’d chosen for a long airplane ride. Despite being comfortable, her black slacks and top were nice enough to wear almost anywhere.

  After stowing her luggage in the trunk, Allee drove to church. She rolled slowly by the front entrance. There were no cars in the parking lot—too early. Should she give up on her dream trip? What would she tell the little girls in her Sunday school class who were so excited about her great adventure? That she didn’t have the courage to go because her traveling companion had an accident? She could use her credit card to buy a ticket and fly home from Atlanta. She didn’t need to continue on to Paris if it didn’t feel right. Instead of turning into the church parking lot, she sped up and headed for the airport.

  “One checked bag. One carry-on. Final destination Paris.” The agent at the airline counter wrapped an identifying strip around the handle of Allee’s large suitcase. He flipped open her passport and made an elaborate show of comparing her face to the picture. In response to the young man’s monotone questions, Allee assured him she possessed no contraband. “Departure from gate two.” He returned her documents, which now included her boarding passes. “Have a good trip, Ms. Bell.”

  After sailing through the security check, Allee sat alone as close as she could to the sign that designated gate two. So far so good. In about an hour, people began to filter into the area. When a trim young woman in a military uniform sat beside her, Allee asked, “Have you ever flown before?”

  “Many times. What about you?”

  “Never,” Allee admitted. She hadn’t planned to reveal her situation to anyone, but suddenly the story of why she was on her way to Paris by herself came tumbling out.

  “The Atlanta airport is huge. Stick with me when we get there. I’ll make sure you don’t get lost.”

  Allee sighed with relief. “Thank you.” Maybe Tina was right. She would just ask for help when she needed it.

  During the flight, the realization she was a long way up in the air with nothing but the floor of the airplane holding her up made Allee’s stomach do flip flops. As she stole glances at her fellow travelers, she was reassured that none of them appeared to be frightened. Many read or slept, and more than a few seemed to be downright bored. After she drank some apple juice and settled down, she found the view of wispy clouds floating beneath the plane fascinating. Much sooner than she expected, they were rolling to a stop on the ground.

  As soon as Allee stepped off the plane, she saw her new military friend waiting to help her find her next gate. Soon, she was seated in a large, bustling waiting area. Last chance to wimp out. No, she’d come this far, and everything was going like clockwork. What could be easier than following signs and finding nice people to help her?

  After boarding, finding her place next to a window, and stowing her backpack under the seat in front of her, the time had come to phone home. To her great relief, the call went to voicemail. “Hi, Mom and Dad. I’m in Atlanta, boarded and buckled. As soon as everyone is seated, we’ll be taking off. I’ll call you in a day or two.” What a blessed break! She fulfilled her promise to call her parents but didn’t need to answer any questions.

  “Where are you going?” she asked the portly gentleman who squeezed into the seat next to her.

  After giving Allee a quizzical look, he replied, “This is a direct flight to Paris.”

  “Right. I guess we are all headed to the same place. At least, initially.”

  “That’s the plan.” He propped his elbows in such a way that he fully occupied the arm rest on either side of him and opened a book.

  Following the man’s example, Allee read for a while. After eating dinner, her lack of sleep caught up with her. When she awoke, the flight attendants were serving breakfast. The mesmerizing graphic display showed they were past the Atlantic Ocean, now flying over land. France! Allee was so excited she could hardly sit still. For the hundredth time, she checked to make sure she had her passport and transportation voucher handy.

  When she grabbed her suitcase from the baggage claim carousel, the bag seemed strangely light. Then she noticed the identification tag had someone else’s name on it. Feeling foolish, she slung the plain black bag back onto the conveyer belt. The crowd at the carousel thinned. Bags stopped sliding down the delivery chute, until at last only one suitcase remained—the one that was identical to hers.

  As she went through customs and immigration, Allee asked the uniformed attendant about her lost luggage. The young man shrugged and suggested she go to the baggage claim office. He pointed toward a glassed-in enclosure, and motioned the next person in line to come forward. At the claims desk, Allee’s explanation of her situation met a blank stare, followed by a torrent of French. Just her luck to encounter the only Parisian who did not speak English. She pulled the phrase book from her backpack and eventually received a form to complete—with instructions in five languages, including English.

  There was no limo at the location where Allee was supposed to meet her ride to the hotel. With a glance at the time, she realized the driver probably gave up on her and left. She sat on a bench to gather herself. She dug through the things in her backpack, grateful for the change of underwear in her carry-on. Naturally, her precious transportation system map had found its way to the bottom of the bag. S
he quickly memorized the name of the bus that would pass near her hotel and stuffed the map into her handbag.

  Finding the correct bus almost immediately bolstered Allee’s confidence. However, she was soon back inside the terminal searching for a place where she could exchange dollars for euros to pay her bus fare. She grumbled at herself for forgetting the stash of European bills and coins Tina thoughtfully ordered from the bank weeks earlier. She dashed to the bus docks, relieved to find hers had not yet departed. By this time, all of the seats were taken, but standing in the aisle appeared to be acceptable. Allee put her backpack into the overhead rack and anchored herself to the metal post near the bus’s entrance. To her chagrin, people continued to board the full bus.

  “I need to keep all of my students together,” a woman shouted in English. “I’m sure you understand and will help us.” Out of sympathy for someone she took to be a fellow school teacher, Allee edged closer to the people behind her. Soon it became an effort to maintain any space at all around herself. Wishing she’d thought to find her limo driver before reporting her lost luggage, Allee shifted her handbag under her arm for safekeeping. She resigned herself to riding into Paris squished between an assortment of other tourists and a mass of high-school-age kids sporting identical purple T-shirts with “Paris or Bust” stenciled on the front.

  Allee cast envious looks at seated passengers, many of whom fell asleep. From her vantage point, she could see only glimpses of automobiles whizzing by. She consoled herself that she would enjoy the scenery on the limo ride to the airport when she flew home. As the bus neared the area where the map told Allee she could escape her human body cast, she enlisted the tallest of the purple-T-shirted youths to pass her backpack to her. “It’s the plain black one.” She released her death grip on the metal pole to point. “There.”

  7