At the restaurant, Babs tells all the staff that I'm saving up to go to Paris to meet my lover, and that I'm learning French because he doesn't speak English, so now Gillian and Nathaniel took it upon themselves to tutor me. Babs is doing her part by adding a bunch of French items to the specialty menu, including the macarons, which apparently take hours to make, but when I eat them, oh my gosh, I understand what all the fuss is about. Pale pink in color, hard on the outside, but fluffy and light and delicate on the inside, with a filling of raspberry delights.
Between classes, hanging out with my fellow students, and at work, I spend a fair amount of time, if not speaking French, then thinking about it. When Gillian carries the dishes to the kitchen, she'll teach me the verbs. "Eat," he
