by Cathy Hapka
Oh well, she told herself, lying back on the rocky ground and closing her eyes against the intense Mediterranean sun. Nothing I can do about that now....
They all lay there on the beach for a while resting and digesting. The weather was really too chilly for sunbathing, but it was still much warmer than it had been back in Paris. There weren’t many other people lying in the sun, but a few strolled along the shoreline or sat in beach chairs reading or napping.
“Anyone fancy some sweets to top off?” Chloe said after a while.
“Ugh! How can you think of eating anything more?” Petra groaned.
Nicole opened her eyes, shading them from the sun with one hand. “I could go for dessert,” she said. “Do you think they have crêpes here?”
“Je ne sais pas,” Chloe said.
Leaving Annike, Petra, Janet, and Ada behind, the dessert seekers walked up to the promenade. Nicole was watching for a crêpe stand, but before she had time to find one, Chloe let out an excited shriek.
“There!” she cried. “They have gelato!” She pointed toward a small street cart.
“What’s gelato?” Nicole asked.
“Oh, it’s brilliant,” Chloe responded with enthusiasm. “It’s Italian ice cream. Totally delish!”
The two of them hurried toward the cart and began scanning the handwritten menu board. “Can you believe it?” Chloe exclaimed when they joined her. “The menu is in French, not Italian!”
Meanwhile Nicole stared at the menu board, trying to decide which flavor to try. She would have preferred crêpes, but Chloe seemed so enthusiastic about the gelato thing that she didn’t want to say anything. Trying something new wouldn’t kill her, right? Besides, the gelato did look pretty tasty.
“Fraises—that’s raspberries, right?” Chloe mused beside her.
“No.” Nicole glanced over at the other girl. “Raspberries would be framboises. Fraises is strawberries.”
“Oh! Cheers, you saved me, then.” Chloe shuddered. “I don’t fancy strawberries at all.”
As Chloe pondered her berry choices, Nicole ordered herself a hazelnut gelato. When she tasted it, she was glad she had. It was delicious.
The girls spent the rest of the weekend seeing the sights in and around Nice, gorging themselves on French food and pastries along with the occasional gelato, walking on the beach and the promenade, visiting the outdoor market, and generally having a great time. Nicole managed on more than one occasion to stop thinking about Nate for hours at a time, though she also had long periods during which she felt horrible, adrift, angry, and uncertain about the future.
Luckily, during those times she found a sympathetic listener in Annike. “I just do not think one can change other people,” Annike said as the two of them took a twilight stroll along the promenade one evening. “It is for him to decide what to do.”
“I know.” Nicole sighed. “And I’m sure he’ll still want to be with me in the end. It’s just so hard to wait around while he figures that out, you know?” She hesitated. “Besides, now that this has happened, it’s sort of making me wonder....”
Annike glanced over as Nicole’s words trailed off into silence. “What?”
Nicole shrugged.
“It’s just—sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it,” she said quietly. “I’ve spent the past two years assuming Nate and I would be together forever. Wanting that. And now...”
“You aren’t sure you want that anymore.” It was a statement rather than a question, which immediately put Nicole a bit on the defensive.
“No, not really,” she said quickly. “I mean, of course I still love him. That’s the important thing. I’m probably just being silly because I’m so pissed off at him right now for cheating on me. That’s all. This will pass, and things will go back to normal.”
Even as she said it, she couldn’t help wondering if she was kidding herself. Is Nate worth all this angst? she thought with a flash of irritation—at him, and also at herself.
Annike didn’t say anything for a moment. “Come,” she said at last. “We’d better try to find the others if we still
want to go dancing tonight.”
Nicole nodded and followed her as she headed back through the narrow, crowded streets of Nice toward their hotel. But her mind wasn’t on their evening plans.
Instead she found herself thinking seriously about Nate—both his good points and his shortcomings. He wasn’t Mr. Perfect, that was for sure. She’d always known that. He was impatient and distractible and always late, he wasn’t the most intellectual guy in the world, he could be thoughtless and maybe a little selfish at times. But she’d always accepted those faults as a part of who he was, a sort of balance for the sweet, kind, surprising, impulsive, funny elements of his personality. No, he might not be per-he was perfect for her.
But was he really? And if he wasn’t, what would she do about it?
To Nicole’s surprise, returning to Paris after the weekend trip felt a little like coming home. The late-afternoon sunshine reflecting off the puddles outside the train station, the constant background scents of baked goods and gas fumes in the streets, the solid facades of the buildings she passed—even the screeching Smith kids seemed familiar and comfortable as she entered the apartment.
After greeting the Smith family, she headed for her room to check her e-mail. When she fired up her laptop, she found messages from both Zara and Patrice. Her heart jumped into her throat when she saw that there was also a new message from Nate. She clicked it open immediately.
Nicole read through the message at least six times, hardly daring to believe her eyes. Could it be true, or had she finally snapped and started seeing things that weren’t there?
Still feeling a little stunned, she clicked on Patrice’s message.
For a second Nicole felt deflated. So Nate hadn’t just decided this on his own, then. His new flame had ditched him, so he was running back to her.
I know what Annike would say about that, and Marie, too, she thought. They’d tell me I was too good for him and should be glad he’s out of my life. That I shouldn’t take him back even if he begs.
She could see their point, too. Why should she take him back just because his tacky little fling hadn’t worked out? It would be like getting doormat tattooed across her forehead in big red letters. He’d treated her like total crap, and now here he was, expecting her to forgive him and pretend nothing had happened.
She took a few deep breaths, trying to control her anger. It worked—she managed to stop focusing on what Nate had done and move on to what he was offering. She had her future back! Suddenly life looked much easier than it had just a few minutes earlier. It seemed all she had to do was survive her last few weeks in Paris and she could go back to her real life—it would be there waiting for her after all.
Hitting reply, she typed in “Dear Nate,” then sat there for a moment with her hands poised above the keyboard. She realized she didn’t know what to say to express how she was feeling. It seemed important to let him know just how momentous this was—how very close they had both come to having their lives changed forever, and how lucky they were that now that didn’t have to happen. But she also wanted him to know how angry she was and how much he’d hurt her. With all of these mixed emotions running through her head, the right words wouldn’t come.
Oh well, she could let him sweat it out for a while, she decided at last, closing the message box and clicking don’t save. She’d write back to him in a while when she’d calmed down. After all, he deserved it after what he’d put her through.
Realizing she hadn’t looked at Zara’s message yet, she clicked on it.
“Ugh!” Nicole exclaimed with a grimace. Leave it to Zara to make her feel like the world’s most predictable loser. That did it. She had to get out and think for a while—everything just seemed to be hitting her the wrong way somehow, and it was starting to freak her out.
Nicole rushed out of the apartment, barely pausing long enough to throw on a jack
et. Halfway to the métro station she slowed from a brisk walk to a crawl, wondering if she was making a big mistake. Maybe she shouldn’t wait to answer Nate’s e-mail. What if Zara was right and he changed his mind in the meantime? Glancing over her shoulder, she wondered if she should go back.
No, she decided. He would just have to wait for her this time. Lord knows she’d waited around for him often enough in their time together. Mr. Twenty Minutes Late, as even his own mother jokingly called him. Nicole didn’t want to look back and feel as if she’d rushed this decision.
She sank down onto a convenient park bench. She could say no. For the first time, she really realized that—and thought about it. Did she really want to go back to Nate now? Suddenly she wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure at all. She thought about the past months in Paris—all the new things she’d learned, the new experiences she’d had, the new friends she’d made. Did she really want to pretend all that had never happened, that she was still the same old person with the same old hopes and plans?
On the other hand, if she walked away from her relationship with Nate, it meant admitting once and for all that her longtime dreams weren’t going to come true. What did that mean for her future?
The question made her uncomfortable, and she hopped to her feet again. She needed to go somewhere that would let her think, somewhere familiar and peaceful and safe....
A short while later she found herself at Notre Dame. Most of the tourist crowds were gone, leaving only a few people strolling the grounds or feeding the pigeons. The cathedral itself glowed in the crimson rays of the setting sun, and just seeing its ageless facade made Nicole feel a little calmer somehow.
She closed her eyes as a breeze wafted in off the Seine and ruffled her hair. Although she had intended to think seriously about the future—particularly her future with Nate—she found her mind wandering off in the opposite direction. Had it been only a couple of months ago that she had first arrived in Paris, anxious and nauseated and certain she could never survive a whole semester in a foreign country?
But it didn’t really feel that foreign anymore, Nicole realized, opening her eyes and looking around. She really was starting to feel...at home here. She never would have believed that was possible.
Then again, she’d done a lot of things she never would have believed she could do. In fact, she’d probably done more new things and thought more new thoughts in her few months in Paris than in the seventeen years before that. Everything from living with a strange family to learning to speak French to the trip with her new school friends.
Thinking about the Nice trip reminded her that Annike and the others were already talking about going somewhere together over the winter school break. At the moment they were still trying to decide between Switzerland and Spain.
Nicole realized she was a little sad that she wouldn’t be joining them, since she was leaving for home just before Christmas. Who would have believed it? Her, wishing she could do more traveling? It was like she was turning into a whole different person....
Noticing that dusk was rapidly approaching, she stood and stretched. That was the trouble with the future—it was so hard to know what might happen. Maybe she was asking too many questions, expecting too much. Maybe it would be easier to wait and try to figure it all out when she got home. Sure, she was mad at Nate right now—that was only natural after what had happened. But seeing him again might clear up her doubts.
For a second the thought comforted her. She could go back to the apartment and e-mail Nate right away—tell him she wanted to try again, too. Tell him that she forgave him, that they were meant to be together, that nothing had changed.
Then she glanced up at the majestic spires of Notre Dame and shook her head. Sure, she could do that—put off her own questions and doubts, seek sanctuary in the familiar, let all the rest slide for a while and just see what happened. The trouble was, she knew better. If the past few months had taught her anything, it was to look and see and question in ways she never had before. She had Dr. Morley’s class to thank for that, and Luc, and the Smiths, and Marie, and Annike. Not to mention Paris itself. And maybe herself, too.
Nate picked up the phone on the second ring. “Nic!” he exclaimed when she identified herself. He sounded happy to hear from her, though he also sounded a little distracted. “Yo, it’s great to hear your voice. Listen, can I call you back tomorrow, though? I was just on my way out.”
“This won’t take long.” Nicole took a deep breath. She wanted to do this now, while the clarity she’d found at Notre Dame was still fresh in her mind. “I got your e-mail, Nate. And I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”
“Yeah?” Nate still sounded distracted. “That’s cool. I’m glad we’re seeing eye to eye on this. And I’ll make it up to you for putting you through it, trust—”
“No, wait,” Nicole interrupted. “The thing is, I—I don’t think it’s going to work. Us, I mean.” Her eyes were already filling with tears, but she did her best to keep her voice steady. “I think you were right the first time. We should break up.”
“What?” This time she could tell she had his full attention. “Listen, babe. You’re talking crazy here. Why don’t we just play it by ear for now, talk it out when you get home and figure out what to do....”
“No.” She kept her voice as firm as possible without being mean. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m breaking up with you.”
There was a long moment of silence. “Fine,” Nate said at last. His voice sounded wounded and a little surprised. “If that’s the way you want it. But you’d better make sure—it’s not like there aren’t plenty of other girls who’d love to take your place.”
“I know. And I’m sure about my decision.” Nicole squeezed her eyes shut. “Good-bye, Nate.”
She waited for a few seconds to see if he was going to answer. When she heard him hang up, she set down the phone and burst into tears.
It wasn’t going to be easy. But even through her sadness, she was already pretty sure it had been the right thing to do.
“...and so I would like to finish by saying that I cherish young Nicole as a dear friend, and will miss her terribly.” Marie raised her glass, waiting for her audience to do the same.
Nicole shyly raised her glass. The Smiths’ living room was packed with people. More than a dozen of Nicole’s friends from school had come—Janet, Petra, Ada, Chloe, even Seamus and Finn from her Artist’s Eye class. The entire Smith family was there, of course; Luc was distracting the two older children by bouncing them on his knees on the sofa, and the babies stared wide-eyed at the gathering from their playpen.
“And finally,” Marie finished her toast, “as tribute to our friend Nicole’s experiences here in Paris, I will say to her that she reminds me of one of my favorite French proverbs: À coeur vaillant rien d’impossible. That means, nothing is impossible to a valiant heart.”
Her listeners applauded, then raised their own glasses to their lips. Nicole took a drink, then surreptitiously swiped at her slightly teary eyes with her free hand. Marie’s speech had followed equally nice ones by Mr. Smith, Annike, and several others. It was truly touching to realize that so many people would miss her when she left the next day.
“I saw that, you old softy,” Annike whispered teasingly in her ear.
Nicole turned and smiled at her. “I must have something in my eye,” she joked. Then she glanced around. “A lot of people came, didn’t they?”
After a moment someone started calling for Nicole to make a speech. The others joined in, and soon she realized she really should say something. She wanted to say something.
Stepping to the front of the room, she cleared her throat, feeling only a twinge of nervousness as all eyes turned toward her. “Bonsoir, everyone,” she began. “Thanks for coming to my farewell party, and thanks a million to the Smiths for throwing it. They’ve been so nice to me this whole time—they didn’t have to do this, too. But it’s awesome to have all my new friends here in one spot.” She smi
led. “It’s funny to think that when I came, I couldn’t imagine I would make any friends here. After all, what could I possibly have in common with a bunch of French people?”
There were chuckles from her audience. “Hey, we are not all French, you know!” Petra called.
Nicole grinned at her before continuing. “But anyway, I guess I figured out that I have more in common with you than I thought. I’m proud to call you all my friends. And since Marie finished her speech with a French proverb, I want to do the same. This is one I learned from Luc.” She smiled in the direction of the handsome young nanny, who looked surprised and curious. “It goes, qui ne risque rien n’a rien. He who risks nothing has nothing. He first said it to me, like, two weeks after I got here. He was trying to talk me into going out to dinner with him at the time.”
She grinned as most of the females in the room shot knowing and amused looks in Luc’s direction. He held up both hands in surrender.
“Anyway, when I first learned what it meant, it didn’t make that much sense to me,” Nicole continued. “But now I understand it a lot better. I have all of you to thank for that. So merci pour tout. And I won’t say good-bye, but rather à bientôt—until we meet again.” She lifted her glass and smiled as everyone clapped.
“Thank you, Nicole,” Mrs. Smith called out. “It’s been an honor having you here—you’ve become a member of the family.” She turned her smile to include the rest of the room. “Now, I want all of you to feel that same way. Please make yourselves at home and enjoy the delicious food, most of it provided by our dear neighbors Marie and Renaud and also by Nicole and her culinary-arts classmates. Bon appétit!”
A few minutes later the visitors were happily eating, drinking, and mingling. Brandon and Marissa were helping Luc pick up used cups and napkins and carry them to the trash bin in the kitchen.
