My Secret Guide to Paris (4 page)

S
omehow, I slept.

We put on the masks that Mom brought for us and got comfy with our neck pillows so it wasn’t as hard to fall asleep as I thought it would be. Justin said he had a harder time getting comfortable, since he’s a lot taller than me. But I was fine.

I fell asleep somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, and when I woke up, I peeked out the window to see that light had replaced darkness. We were dropping below the clouds and I really wanted to watch as the plane got closer to France, but Mom told me I should close the window shade because some of the passengers were still sleeping.

Once we landed, we found our luggage, got some euros (that’s the money they use in most European countries; our dollars were only good in America), and made our way through customs. Then we found the long line for taxis, which didn’t look anything like the bright yellow taxis in New York. They were nice cars. Really nice cars.

When we finally got into the car that would be our taxi, Justin said, “Wow, I’ve never ridden in a Mercedes before. Sweet!”

Mom gave the driver a piece of paper with our hotel name written on it, and then we sat back and watched as we drove out of the airport and through some industrial areas toward the city.

As each minute passed, I knew we were one minute closer to seeing the place I’d dreamed about for so long. And while I was excited, I couldn’t help but think about my grandma. What would she have said to me now, if she was here with us? What advice would she have given me about walking around Paris? What would she have been most excited about?

My mom peered out the window with a big, silly grin on her face. She reminded me of a kid riding on a Ferris wheel for the first time, and it bothered me a little bit. She was here because of Grandma’s kindness, even though my mother hadn’t been very nice to her these past few years. Didn’t she feel bad about any of it?

I told myself I had to try and let it go for now. I didn’t want any of it to ruin this trip. A trip of a lifetime, my dad had said a couple of times. I just wished it had happened during Grandma’s lifetime.

The thirty-minute drive seemed ten times longer, because by then it felt like we’d been traveling for days. Finally, we entered the city. And I realized it wasn’t just the taxis that were different from New York. Although Paris was also large and bustling with people, it looked so different. One block looked totally modern while the next looked like something from an old, romantic movie. French words flew past me, on street signs, above storefronts, and across awnings. We passed café after café, and because it was a sunny March day, people sat outside, soaking up the sunshine while sipping their coffees.

My stomach growled. “We’ll get something to eat soon,” Mom whispered to me. “I’m hungry, too.”

I wondered if I would like real French food. Grandma had taken me to a few French restaurants in Manhattan, but she’d been careful to order foods she knew I would eat. Lindy had said she’d heard that they ate really disgusting things, like snails, called escargot. I’d told Lindy that maybe I would just live on pastries and bread for a week. It wouldn’t be the most horrible thing in the world.

“And cheese,” she’d said. “Don’t forget, they have fantastic cheese there.”

That’s what people said, but what if it was the stinky kind? No matter what anyone said about how good it tasted, I was not going to eat stinky cheese.

When we pulled up to our hotel, the driver helped us with our bags and Mom paid him. Although it was sunny, it was kind of chilly, and I was glad I’d brought a couple of jackets, like my mom had suggested, since Paris in March isn’t known for being great weather-wise.

We checked in and took our bags up to our room on the fifth floor. It wasn’t very big, but it was nice, and Mom said it would be perfect, since we wouldn’t be in our room very much anyway.

“Nice flat-screen,” Justin said, pointing to where it hung on the wall.

“Right,” I said. “Because you want to sit around watching television shows in French all day?”

“They’ve got to have a couple of English-speaking channels, don’t they?”

“Not necessarily,” Mom said. “We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto. Or, you know, Brooklyn.”

“Hey,” I said. “We have a balcony. Let’s go look.”

We walked out, and what I noticed first was a large building with what looked like a tall, round bell tower in the middle.

“It looks like a castle,” Justin said. He turned to Mom. “Do you know what that is?”

“I believe that’s the hospital,” she said. “The largest one in France, if I remember correctly. I read about it on the hotel’s website.”

“A hospital?” I asked. “Wow. It looks so old.”

“Isn’t it lovely?” Mom said. “The French really know how to take care of their buildings and cities, that’s for sure.”

I had a feeling we would be looking at a lot of buildings and parks and cafés and so many other things, and thinking that same word—
lovely
.

“Can we go find some food?” Justin said. “I feel like I haven’t eaten anything for three days.”

Mom laughed. “I feel the same way. Let’s freshen up, then we’ll go. Justin, why don’t you use the bathroom first? And maybe change out of those basketball shorts, please?”

We did as she said, and washed up and changed our clothes. In the lobby of the hotel, Mom unfolded a map she’d taken out of her travel guide. “Let’s walk toward Notre-Dame,” she said. “I’m sure we can find a good place to eat, and then afterward, we can check out one of the most famous landmarks. You guys aren’t too tired to do some walking, are you?”

“Mom,” I said as she put her map away. I gently grabbed her arm and shook it with excitement. “We’re in Paris! There’s no time to be tired.”

Outside, the air was crisp and clean, and maybe it was my imagination, but as we turned the corner, I swore I smelled a hint of fresh bread. It reminded me of Grandma and how she’d described the bread to me in the chocolate shop. I started to ask my mother if we could look for a bakery, but she seemed intent on finding a restaurant. We passed a few, but they were all pretty crowded, so we kept walking.

I smiled when we saw an older man carrying a cane and a woman who wore a lime-green coat greet each other with a kiss on each cheek. I turned to Justin, to ask him if he’d like to live in a place where he’d have to kiss everyone like that, but before I could get the words out, he said, “Nora, don’t even think about it!”

I made a funny face. “Like I’d want to kiss
you
?”

When we came to a café, I suggested we get something there, remembering my conversation with Lindy about bread and cheese and cute boys. But Mom said no, a café wasn’t really the place to get a good lunch. I’m not sure how she knew that, but we kept walking, hoping to find a real restaurant.

“I’m not eating snails,” I told her.

“That makes two of us,” Mom said.

“Stop being a drama queen, Nora,” Justin said. “We’ll find a restaurant, don’t worry. You’re not going to have to dig in a garden and eat what you find.”

As I tried not to laugh at my brother, we rounded another corner, and this time, there was no question. Something good was baking nearby, and it made us walk a little faster. Our noses led us to a bakery with a big picture window, exactly like Grandma had described. People stood in front of the window to admire the many sweet treats for sale: beautifully decorated chocolate and vanilla cakes, fruit tarts, éclairs, pastries, and much more.

“
Macarons
,” my mom whispered as she pointed to what looked like a plate of brightly colored cookies with filling in the middle. “Oh my gosh, look at them. Don’t they look divine? Come on, we have to buy some.”

We followed her inside, where lots of people stood in line. Glass cases filled the room, displaying more delicious baked goods.

I thought my mom had gone crazy. She’d never let us have dessert for lunch at home. Turned out she wanted to buy the
macarons
for us to have after we ate lunch, which we did a short while later, at a Greek restaurant we found a little ways down from the bakery. I guess they have food from all over the world in Paris, not just French food.

Who knew?

Dear Lindy,

Bonjour! Yesterday we ate macarons, crispy little meringue cookies that somehow manage to be soft and chewy at the same time. They come in all different flavors and colors. We also went to Notre-Dame (picture on the front of this card), and I’ve never seen anything so big and beautiful in my life. We had to cross a bridge to get to the cathedral, and I felt like a princess in a fairy tale.

Love, nora

Dear Dad,

Bonjour! Last night we had dinner at a bistro, and ate something like a delicious beef stew along with some bread. Lots of bread. But that wasn’t the best part of the evening. The best part was standing on the Pont des Arts (a bridge over the Seine River) and watching the sky change colors as the sun set until it was dark. And then, the lights across Paris came on. It was so magical, even my heart had goose bumps.

Love, nora

After a good night’s sleep and a simple breakfast at our hotel, Mom was ready to find dolls. Forget the Eiffel Tower, the pretty gardens, and the magnificent statues. She was set on dolls.

“Can I go off on my own?” Justin asked as we stood in the lobby of our hotel. “And maybe borrow some money? Of the French variety.”

Mom took her wallet out of her purse. “All right. Make sure you buy yourself a map. Or ask the front desk if they can give you one. Are you going to ride the Métro?”

“Probably,” he said as he took the bills she handed him. “I figure it’s pretty similar to riding the subway in New York City. I mean, how hard can it be?”

I wanted to go with him and explore the city. I had my messenger bag on my shoulder, and I swore I could hear Grandma’s envelopes whispering to me.

Open us. Open us, and learn our secrets
.
We’re waiting for you!

“Can I go with Justin?” I blurted out. “Please? There are so many things I want to see.”

Every inch of Mom’s face drooped. “But … I thought you wanted to look for dolls with me.”

“Sorry,” I said softly. “I guess I’ve changed my mind. After seeing Notre-Dame yesterday, I want to see more things like that.”

She was quiet for a few seconds, like she was thinking about my request. Then she looked at Justin. “Is it okay if she goes with you?”

He shrugged. “I guess.” He turned to me. “But no whining. About anything. Or I send you back here to take a nap.”

“Justin, I’m not five years old. We’re in one of the greatest cities in the world. What is there to whine about?”

“Let’s meet back here at six o’clock, and we’ll have dinner together,” Mom said. “Think you can figure out lunch on your own?”

“Yes,” Justin and I replied at the same time.

“Okay, then. Watch out for each other. Be safe. And for heaven’s sake, use those temporary cell phones I bought you yesterday if you need to. Call me if anything happens that I should know about, understand?”

“Yes,” we both replied again.

She gave us each a quick hug before she walked toward the front doors. She glanced back one last time before she went outside, alone.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Justin said.

Okay, honestly, I didn’t want to think about it. “Stop it,” I said. “If you feel so bad, why aren’t you going with her?”

“Because I’m not her
daughter
who promised she’d go with her to look at
dolls
.”

“I never said that. She asked me if we would have fun in Paris, and I said we would. You know I don’t really like dolls. Now come on. Where are we going? Do we need to get directions?”

“I want to go to that Arc by the Louvre. Remember, we could see it from where we stood on the bridge last night?”

Without even thinking, I reached into my bag and pulled out the map Grandma had put in the manila envelope for me.

“Where’d you get this?” he asked, peering over my shoulder.

“Oh, uh, the librarian at school loaned it to me.”

“What do those pink dots mean?” he asked. “Did you put them there?”

“No, I didn’t, so I’m not sure what they mean.” I pointed to the Latin Quarter in the bottom right-hand part of the map. “We’re here. The Louvre and the Arc de Triomphe du Carrousel are both up here.” I moved my finger to the middle of the map. “Look, there’s a big garden nearby, too. Maybe we can check that out.”

“Jardin,”
he said, reading from the map. “Yeah, it kind of sounds like ‘garden.’ ”

I laughed. “That’s not how I know it’s a garden. See the green squares all over the map?” I pointed to the legend that explained what the different colors and lines meant. “Those are all parks or gardens.”

“Got it. That makes sense.”

I shook my head as I wondered if he’d ever even looked at a map before now.

While Justin asked the man at the front desk which train we should take to get to the Louvre, I thought up a plan in my head. It went like this: I’d hang out with Justin for a couple of hours and get used to riding the Métro. While we were together, I’d talk nonstop and ask lots of annoying questions. That way, when I suggested that I go off on my own for a little while, he’d be happy to let me go.

“All right,” Justin said, with a piece of paper and a map in his hands. “Let’s do this.”

Outside, gray clouds had formed a cover over the city. I missed the sunshine and blue sky we’d had the day before, but I told myself Paris is still magnificent even on cloudy days. According to my mother, gray and rainy was the norm for Paris, except in the summer months.

Justin and I found the nearest Métro station, bought our tickets, and boarded the train when it came. Being the boy that he is, my brother took a seat next to a gorgeous girl about his age. He gave me a look that told me I better not sit too close to him. So much for me asking him a bunch of annoying questions. I sat across from him, next to a girl about my age wearing a red beret and reading a magazine. She looked exactly like I’d pictured young French girls.

I reached into my messenger bag to get the first envelope. With Justin preoccupied and my mother nowhere in sight, I could finally read it without worrying about getting caught.

The seven envelopes were still rubber-banded together. I took out the first one and ripped it open. Inside were two handwritten notes, folded in half, one with a number one on it and the other a number two, plus some euro bills and a piece of paper with directions. I unfolded note number one and read:

BONJOUR, NORA, AND WELCOME TO PARIS!

I just now purchased our airplane tickets and I’m so excited about our trip, I can’t sleep. I want this to be a meaningful, memorable trip for you. Something you look back on years from now with great fondness.

As you know, I’ll have to work some of the time while we’re in Paris. To make your trip extra special and to make me feel a little less guilty about that work I’ll be doing, I’ve created a sort of treasure hunt for you and your mother. I know how much you love treasure hunts, Nora! It’s going to be so much fun, and what a wonderful way for you to get to know my favorite city. You can look forward to meeting one of my dear friends at each location as well. You will be in good hands, I promise.

In each envelope you’ll find some euros, Métro and/or walking directions, and a note telling you a place to visit. The envelopes should be opened in order (envelope one first, envelope two next, and so on), and do not open a new envelope until you have completed the prior excursion.

My heart is full of emotions as I think ahead to the time I will spend with you and your mother in Paris. It is hard to wait, but wait I must. In the meantime, I’ll put some of that emotion into coming up with fun adventures for you.

Do you remember when you and I watched
The Wizard of Oz
together? It’s one of my favorite movies. And while it’s true that there’s no place like home, as Dorothy learns, whenever I’m in Paris, I think to myself, there’s no place like Paris. You’ll soon see for yourself exactly what I mean.

In each place, you will find a piece of my heart, as I have come to love each of them for different reasons. I hope you love them as well. Have fun and enjoy the journey!