Taxi to Paris (21 page)

I stood up. "OK, then I'll be in the kitchen." I went out. Much longer in there and I wouldn't have been able to resist her - despite the bubble bath!

While I drank my coffee in the kitchen, I heard her rattling around; first in the bathroom and then in her bedroom. When I was working on my second cup, she came into the kitchen. She'd really pulled it off. Her face looked like it had never been injured. The most one might have suspected is that she'd just spent a rather passionate night somewhere.

"How do I look?" she asked, displaying her work.

"Breathtaking!" I was truly impressed.

"Thank you," she replied politely, "but that isn't quite what I meant." She smiled.

Why did we have to go out at all? "I can't see anything," I assured her honestly.

She was satisfied. "I had that impression also." She looked at my cup. "Can we go?"

I nodded.

It was a pleasure to watch how she handled herself so confidently and so freely in this neighborhood. She didn't quite have her flexibility back, so she walked rather stiffly yet. Had it not been for that limitation, she would've been the embodiment of liveliness. I kept feeling like I had to put the brakes on for her. She sparkled with joy.

I just walked next to her in complete astonishment. The nearest bistro really was right around the corner. She entered casually and greeted everyone. She was obviously a regular here. What a difference from the carefully guarded hiding I'd seen her in before!

The man behind the counter greeted her with genuine pleasure. "Bonjour, Madame! Back in Paris again?" I could tell by looking at him that he appreciated the gift of her beauty as much as I did.

"Bonjour, Jean," she replied cheerfully. The pleasure was visible in her as well.

He'd already put a cafe noir in front of her. He looked at me politely. "Madame?" I took the same.

I was totally fascinated by the playing out of her connections with this world. Like all regular customers - here, that word had an uncomfortable aftertaste - she simply stood at the counter, stirring sugar into her coffee and conversing in brilliant French with the barkeep. They didn't talk about anything special - the weather, prices, the barman's children. But the whole thing held an unusual attraction for me. Here, she was a completely normal woman; here, she was at home.

She'd forgotten about me completely. I looked over at her and wished that I should never experience her any other way. After awhile, it occurred to her that she hadn't come in alone. She turned to face me.

"I'm sorry," she apologized with a guilty smile. "It's always like this when I come here. I didn't mean to -".

I interrupted her. "You don't need to apologize. It's just wonderful here." I continued softly, with a glance at the barman, "Does he understand German?"

She looked at me, confused. "Not a word."

"You are wonderful," I said.

If she hadn't been completely covered with a thick layer of makeup, I would've seen how red she turned. Instead, I could only guess. She turned back to the barman and let loose an extremely interesting torrent about the weather. He jumped in and helped her overcome the embarrassment he hadn't even noticed.

I sat on one of the nice barstools and observed her a little more. This could take some time. The other regulars - so I assumed - had gathered around, and the whole thing was one big conversation full of laughter.

I looked out the window and watched the bustling street traffic pass by.

Now and then, someone else came in, greeted her and the others, conversed with them or didn't, stayed or left.

Obviously, there were differences in degree of intimacy. One greeted her with a handshake, another in the typical Roman style with a kiss right, kiss left, kiss right on the cheeks. She must've been coming here a long time.

Why didn't she just stay here? Why did she torture herself by leaving this place of love and friendship in her life to go back there?

While I was wondering that and watching her, she caught my eye. She dodged the protests of the others charmingly, such that everyone said their friendly goodbyes, and came over to me at my table.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "I'm sure you expected this to go quite differently."

Actually, I hadn't expected anything. I just wanted to look out for her. "It's very interesting," I smiled at her reassuringly. "I love sitting in a bistro in Paris and watching you at your best. You couldn't bring me any greater joy."

She was upset again. I wanted to calm her and reached for her hand. She pulled away. Oh, boy, she didn't want that! I grinned. So that was one thing that this new environment required.

"Don't be afraid," I promised. "I'll be very good."

She was extremely uncomfortable. She fidgeted. "You have to understand..."

"I understand," I testified, still grinning. "I didn't become a lesbian yesterday, you know."

She was taken aback at first. Then she broke into a joyful laughter than sounded like tiny little raindrops. "Why...?" she asked. She started again. "Why isn't that a problem for you?"

"Because I don't have a problem with it. There are lots of things that I don't do in public, and most of them aren't even remotely related to who I sleep with."

She was still a bit taken aback. "Funny," she stated. "I've always heard differently before now."

"Do you have a problem with it?" I asked with genuine curiosity. Such things always interested me.

She considered this. "No, not really. I've just never really thought much about it before."

I understood that well. She had put so many other limitations and taboos on her life, she'd surely never gotten through to deal with this one before. She just never had occasion to. Besides, with whom would she hold hands? With her clients?

"But somehow, it still just doesn't seem right." She tried to knit her eyebrows, but gave that up right away with a wince. She wasn't nearly as well as she portrayed herself to be.

"No," I agreed with her, "I don't think it's right either. But that's not my problem, it's the problem of those who can't stand to look when two women are tender to one another." I shrugged. "For that, my time is too precious and life is too short. They should solve their own problems."

"I believe you're right," she pondered. "I'll have to think about that some more." She sat for awhile, deep in thought.

I looked at her and noticed that she was about to fall asleep. "Don't you think we'd better go home?" I asked urgently.

She sat up a little. "Yes, I'm suddenly awfully tired. I hadn't noticed it at all before." Of course not - she'd been swimming in a sea of friendship and happiness!

"Have you paid?" I was really afraid she was about to tip over right here. She looked absolutely exhausted, despite all the makeup.

She waved that away. "We don't need to. The first cup when I come to town is always on the house."

She gathered herself up and went once more up to the counter. She gathered the last of her strength for her goodbyes, and let her charm flow. It was obvious that everyone was captivated by her. They would have liked most to hold her, to keep her there. She declined regretfully, putting them all off to the next time.

We went back around the corner. As soon as we were out of sight, she leaned against the building. She was grey under her makeup. I was afraid for her. Why did she always have to overextend herself?

"Should I help you?" I asked. Somehow, I still had to get her home.

She shook her head. "I'll manage. Just let me rest here for a minute." She closed her eyes.

The control she exercised over her body was really unbelievable. After a minute, she opened her eyes again and said, "We can go." She still didn't look very well, but she walked along the street as if she had nothing more than a long day at work behind her. I didn't know how long her strength was going to last. I tried to stay as close to her as possible.

She made it into the apartment. On the other side of the door, she collapsed. I picked her up and helped her into the bedroom. There, she fell onto the bed and didn't make another sound. At first, I doubted that she was even still breathing. I put my ear to her mouth and was reassured. I laid her in a slightly more comfortable position, took off her shoes, pulled a blanket over her, and left her to sleep.

The next morning she'd go out again, I decided, but this time for x-rays!

Chapter 21

"
O
h, no!" she moaned.

"Oh, yes!" I stood my ground. "Today you're going to be x-rayed. I promised the doctor you would. If I ever run into her again and she finds out that I broke my promise, she'll lynch me."

She tried again to get out of it. "Come on, she won't be that bad."

I had to have proof that she was well. Since she had collapsed yesterday, I was more worried about her. "Yes, she is that bad. You didn't really get a chance to talk to her. I did."

She had to admit that. "Yes, that's true." She sighed in resignation. "I'm not going to get anywhere against the two of you. When then?"

"Right after breakfast," I replied energetically. I didn't want to give her a chance to think about it too long.

When I picked her up at the doctor's office, she informed me, "Everything is fine. I'm supposed to take it easy for another week. Are you happy now?"

"Yes," I said. "That was all I wanted to know." I looked over at her. "Did he ask you anything else?"

"Nothing special." She shrugged absently. "They always believe the story about the stairs."

My God! How often had she done this already?

Slowly, it began to seem like I'd spent my entire life up to this point in a glass box, sheltered from the evil sides of the world. I took a great deal for granted. Consideration of others, for instance, and mutual respect for the idea that people shouldn't hurt each other intentionally, or that everyone had a right to self-esteem.

I didn't ask her anything else. How could I question her life when I enjoyed everything so automatically that was obviously a luxury for her, that she only now and then got to experience here in Paris? I had rather ensure that this trip was as comfortable and relaxing as possible for her.

"What would you like as your treat for being so brave?" I kidded her gently.

"Do I get to choose?" She pouted a little. "That's new."

I held her tight, wrapped an arm around her neck, pulled her down to me, and kissed her softly on the lips. "You do," I said tenderly. "Anything you want, darling."

She was too surprised to react right away, then "darling" gave her another shock. Finally, she remarked, "I thought you didn't do that in public."

I laughed. "I didn't say that I never do it on general principle. I've just never felt like it before." I eyed her carefully. "If it bothers you, I'll never do it again."

She looked at me with an unreadable expression. Then she leaned over me and kissed me very lightly. "It doesn't bother me." Her face lightened. "I even think I could start to like it." She put an arm around my waist, and we took a few steps together like that.

"So," I asked again. "What would you like?"

She stopped. "I'm not quite sure. I don't want to make the same mistake I made yesterday."

"That was no mistake," I said warmly. "Those people did you so much good."

"Yes," she admitted, "but it was too strenuous. Today, I don't want to see any people." Did she mean me with that as well?

I looked at her questioningly. "Do you want to stay in the apartment?"

She shook her head. "No, not that, either."

I didn't know what alternatives she was weighing in her head, so I just stood there and waited for an answer.

"Do you like the countryside?" she asked suddenly.

"That depends," I replied uncertainly. That was a rather vague description.

"I'd really like to drive out there. Just in the area." She looked at me doubtfully. "If you want."

"If you want," I emphasized in reply. "I don't know anything about the area around Paris. I've only ever been in the city before." I smiled invitingly at her. "Will you show me the most beautiful parts of the landscape?"

Only now did she let me see how important this trip was to her. "Yes, I'd love to." She beamed.

It really wasn't easy to fulfill a wish for her!

After I found my car again, we drove out toward the south end of the city. When we could see nothing but fields left and right, she pointed toward a dirt road.

"You can park there. Then we can walk."

I followed her instructions, and we walked right into a small forest. It was as if the huge city of Paris no longer existed, although it was so close. She stood still and breathed it all in.

Her appearance really struck me. She fit in here just as well as she had in the bistro in Paris or in the apartment there. She filled every situation with her charm and beauty. I asked myself what I could possibly offer her. She gave me so much. And I? I could take care of her when she was sick. But she wouldn't always be sick.

Smiling, she turned to face me. "Isn't it lovely here?" She was so relaxed. Her bruises were barely visible now. Of course, she'd put makeup on again, but that couldn't account for it alone. Here, no one threatened her, and she was completely herself.

My love for her pained me deep inside. As soon as I knew for sure that she was well again, I'd have to leave her.

I returned her smile. "Beautiful," I confirmed, and I didn't just mean the landscape.

"Come," she encouraged. "Let's go for a little walk."

"But not too far," I warned.

She laughed at my concern. "I promise I won't collapse. I'll be careful."

We walked quietly along, side by side. She picked up a twig from the ground and smelled it. Then she bent down to investigate some flowers that were growing in the underbrush. "You like to be out in nature," I concluded.

"Yes," she explained casually, "I grew up in the country."

"In the country - you?" I asked, totally amazed.

She looked up at me from her crouch. "You thought I was a city kid, right?"