We Will Always Have Paris

We Will Always Have Paris - 2

Julie

Hotel Rive Gauche

11 July 2021

Dear Isabella

Yesterday, on my way home from a long walk – yes, I ended up walking all the way from the Eiffel Tower and Champs de Mars along the Seine back to the hotel – I saw a real, old-fashioned flower shop. If I lived in Paris, I'd buy fresh flowers every week.

You just enjoy life in a completely different way here.

Today I'm taking it a little bit slowly. I'm going to explore the Latin Quarter. There are lots of little bookshops and antique shops. Maybe I'll sit on a bench in the Jardin du Luxembourg and enjoy watching people. There are so many tourists and long queues everywhere. Tomorrow I’ll dare to go to the Louvre anyway. You have to arrive before the museum opens and stand in line. That way you don't have to wait nearly as long to get in. Remember when we were there? We almost got thrown out by a curator for laughing so loud in the Mona Lisa gallery. There was also the night we ate baguettes with cheese and pâté, and washed it down with cheap red wine with François and Laurent just outside the museum.

I wonder what he's doing today.

You said he wasn't good for me, but we were just young, with no plans and enjoying life. He dreamed of education but had no support from home and had to work to make a living ... why he couldn’t afford to study. Towards the end, we fought a lot, but you know that. I was tired of the parties, tired of him spending all his money on nothing and not thinking about his future. He called me cold and controlling. I was so in love with him, and yet it was hopeless. Sorry, for the sentimental rant. Paris just brings back all the old memories. I wasn't at all prepared for that before I arrived, but maybe it's good for me to go through the emotions and then finally be able to move on.

Now I want to discover Paris. I'll write more later.

Love Juliette

Although it was only 10 in the morning, there were already people in the streets, but that was nothing compared to a few hours from now when they would be swamped with people. I was a morning person, always had been. Another of the things we disagreed about. François would sleep in, until 11 or even later if he or we had been out. I wanted to get up and get something out of the day, but then I also fell asleep early at night. In so many ways we had been an impossible match, but so young and in love.

The elderly lady in the flower shop was opening and putting out buckets of all sorts of brightly colored flowers. There were roses, gerberas, carnations, daisies and many more I didn't know the names of. Bouquets, large and small, beckoned me.

"Looking for something, madame?" It was a moment before I realized that she had been addressing me.

"No, thank you. I'm not looking for anything, but I saw your flowers yesterday and they are so beautiful. I wish I lived here in Paris and had a reason to buy flowers." I smiled and admired a summer bouquet made of field flowers.

"You speak French well. I cannot place your accent." The lady was putting price tags on her flowers.

"Denmark, but I lived in Paris many years ago. I also studied French and I teach it."

"That makes me so happy to hear." The lady smiled and handed me a small bouquet, similar to the one I had been admiring. "It's for you."

"Well, thank you very, very much. That's too much. Let me pay for it." The lady couldn't just give her flowers away.

"No, no, no keep your money. It is a gift. My name is Yvette Beauregard, but everyone calls me Madame Yvette."

"My name is Juliette." I didn't know why I hadn't just said Julie. French people could pronounce Julie just as well. But I wanted to be Juliette again, not just in my daydream.

"God bless you, my dear."

"And you too, madame." I returned the blessing. "And thank you so much for the beautiful flowers." I would enjoy them every day for the last week of my Parisian vacation.

François

It was the 14th of July, and Paris was one big party. The Bastille Day, our national day, was celebrated with a military parade on the Champs-Élysées, parties in the streets, and fireworks. I didn't need to see the parade but had arranged with Laurent and a group of friends to meet at our local bar. Aurélie my on/off friend with benefits would also be there. Neither of us was looking for a committed relationship and I knew she was seeing other people. We had a socalled open relationship. It suited me just fine. My business was where I put all my energy. I'd owned it for three years.

While at university, I started to buy and sell antiques on a small scale. All the money I earned I had put aside. Juliette had left me because I wasn't serious enough. First I’d been offended and mad at her. It had been a wake-up call, but I hadn't contacted her in the years that had passed. I'd wanted to, but towards the end, we'd fought all the time. Actually, right after she had gone home to Denmark, it had been a relief. I could go on partying at night and sleep the day away. But not anymore. I’d pulled myself together and built the life I wanted but never thought I could have. Why did I keep thinking about her?

Three years ago I had earned enough to upgrade the shop to a fashionable location, and it was going well, really well. Right now, a Japanese couple was looking at a Louis XVI dresser. It was in mahogany with bronze decoration and floral ornaments. Because the shop was in Quartier Latin, tourists often came by on their way to Notre Dame and the Seine or the opposite direction to the Jardin du Luxembourg. The tourists paid the price plus shipping. It was good business. I had given them the history of the beautiful dresser, and now they were talking quietly. The price was €4,000, which was an appropriate price, but of course, it was a good chunk of money.

"We will buy it," the man said in English.

"You won't regret it." I smiled and met the couple at the dresser. "A really nice dresser and in pristine condition," I replied in formal school English. "Please take your time and we'll arrange the payment whenever you're ready." After Juliette's departure, I had taken English classes at night while studying art history during the day. Every evening except the one night a week when I improved my English, I spent working. I'd always known that if I didn't want to keep bouncing from one random, low-paid job to another, I'd have to go to university, and there, too, I'd have to fend for myself. Many misunderstandings in our relationship had arisen because I didn't want to think about my future. We had been young, so young and immature, but passion had definitely not been lacking especially not after a heated argument.

I arranged the payment and filled in the paperwork with the Japanese couple. It was close to 7 p.m. when they left the shop. I usually closed the shop at 6 p.m., but in the summer I stayed open longer as tourists often popped in on their way to dinner. Just not tonight, because I had to meet my friends at the bar.

I was greeted by hugs and cheek kisses when I finally arrived. Aurélie gave me a long hug and pressed her body against mine. "Bonjour mon amant," she whispered affectionately and gave me a kiss on the mouth. I responded by kissing her without abandon while holding her close to me. There was clapping and hooting behind us.

"Show's over," I laughed, following Aurélie to an empty seat at the table.

"Have you sold more treasures to tourists?" Laurent pushed a draught beer across the table to me.

"Now that you mention it, I've made good money this past week." I took a long sip of my beer and told him about my sales. Laurent was a successful stockbroker on Euronext, the Paris stock exchange. Who would have thought it if you had met us when we were in our early twenties?

"I got a photo assignment for Paris Match," said Aurélie, who was a freelance photographer who lived from assignment to assignment.

"Well done. Congratulations. I'll buy you a drink, and why don't we order something to eat?" I leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. When I looked up, my eyes collided with a woman at the bar. She was watching us but was half-hidden by the man next to her. It didn't look like they were together, and she hadn't noticed that I'd seen her. Long blond hair waved around her shoulders. The yellow blouse she was wearing set her apart from the crowd and, with a glass of red wine in her hand, she looked relaxed. There was something familiar about her. She had Nordic features and if she stood up she would undoubtedly be taller than Aurélie and other French women I knew. Juliette had been tall, but still not as tall as me. I looked away from the woman at the bar because I was going crazy. Everywhere I looked I saw her.

"I'm ordering, what would you like?"

I would be able to get a better look at the woman if I moved to the bar. I noted my friends' orders before making my way through the room, which was packed with people, but when I reached the bar, she was gone.