by Roddy Wix
A pretty woman walked along the Champs Elysees in the direction of the Jardin des Tuileries. With a taught body in designer jeans and a white linen shirt she did not go unnoticed. A blond pony tail poking out of an old cap with a "Ritz Carlton- Amelia Island" logo seemed to identify her as American. She blended in with the crowd of tourists from the US who filled Paris despite terrorism and the bad economy. As she walked she swung a canvas tote containing a tourist map and ingredients for lunch alfresco. The name "Novartis" on the bag associated her with some aspect of medicine, a physician, perhaps.
Like most tourists she walked along the boulevard at a leisurely pace stopping to look in a shop or consult a small guide book she took from her canvas tote. She bought a bottle of water from a street vendor and moved on toward the Louvre arriving at the Pyramid entrance a little before noon. Rather than go down the escalator she wandered around the courtyard enjoying the sunshine and glancing at her watch, implying that she was waiting to meet someone.
A good-looking middle aged man arrived less than ten minutes later. He wore Ray Ban sunglasses similar to the woman’s and a Ritz Carlton baseball cap over his graying hair. Approaching from behind and put a hand on her shoulder in a familiar, gentle way. In response she turned with a smile that implied a long and intimate relationship.
“Have you had a good morning, dear?” He gave her a quick kiss on the lips.
“Outstanding. I spent a lot of your money on frivolous things.”
“Frivolous?”
“Oh, you know, things to use on our trip that I will never use again.” Anyone listening would associate the conversation with the normal banter of a married couple.
“So long as you enjoy your purchases, dear. Would you like to have some lunch before we tackle the Louvre?”
“An excellent idea.” She took him gently by the arm and led him toward the archway leading out to the River Seine. As they walked she opened her tote bag and displayed a couple of baguettes, some cheese, fruit, and a four hundred euro bottle of Margaux.
“So, you have been shopping. May I compliment you on your choice of wine, Dr. Franklin?”
“Thank you, Dr. Franklin. I thought we might sit by the river, the way they do in the movies. You can be Cary Grant and I can pretend to be Audrey Hepburn.”
The American doctors smiled at one another and held hands as they meandered along looking for the perfect spot to sit and enjoy their lunch. It didn’t take long to pick a place with a view of the Musee d’Orsay across one of the most photographed places on the River Seine. They sat on a low wall and she out a small colorful cloth and arranged the bread and cheese and fruit on a plate. She passed the bottle and a corkscrew to Dr. Franklin who removed the cork with the skill of a surgeon then took a couple of paper cups from her bag and handed them over with a whimsical look.
“Indeed. Margaux from paper cups? Cary and Audrey would have been amused don't you think?” He filled the cups and gave her one.
“To you, Katya.” Frank Beretta toasted his dear friend.
“To you, Frank.”
“I believe Paris is the most beautiful city in the world. It's hard to imagine the terrible things that have happened here over the past century.” Frank took a sip of the delicious wine.
“Yes, and especially so for me. After all, this is where we met and under decidedly unpleasant circumstances. As Dickens said, ‘It was the best of times it was the worst of times’.”
“That is a fair summation.”
“You gave me my life, Frank.” The pretty woman leaned over and kissed Frank tenderly on the lips and he kissed her back.
In another time and place, in a world without Joey, Katya might well have become Mrs. Frank Beretta.
“It was my privilege, Katya.”
“You’re the last of the White Knights, Frank, and we're fast running out of damsels and dragons.”
“Damsels, perhaps, but the dragons seem to be staging a comeback.”
The woman looked at him with intelligent and knowing eyes. “I’m afraid you may be right.”
“Well, tomorrow we shall venture into their territory and find out.”
They took their time finishing their lunch then walked back to the Louvre where, under the cover of the crowd, they each went their separate ways. They would not see one another again soon.
32.
