Schooling, Mr. Wright

Romance is in the Paris air…

Twenty laughter filled hours later, we landed in Paris, France. Finding our luggage and making it through customs was almost all the adventure I could handle for the day, until we walked out of the airport and I looked out at the astounding country I was in.

The warm Paris air was filled with a faint floral scent from the blossoming rose bushes that lined the airport entrance behind me. The wind seemed to flirt with my hair, as its fingers playfully danced through each strand. The city was already seducing me, living up to its’ reputation as the city of romance.

“Let’s wave down a taxi so we can get checked into our hotel.” Jack said.

“Just like in the movies! Can I be the one to do it?” He was smiling at my eagerness.

“You’ve really never ridden in a taxi before?” He asked.

“You know Mount Sterling doesn’t have cabs; we don’t even have a public bus.” I said.

“I’m, sorry Kate. I keep forgetting you haven’t been outside of Kentucky. You know I took a few years off after high school to backpack across Europe with my older brother.” He said.

“You know how I’ve always been a planner, right? I knew by tenth grade I was going to teach high school, and something like taking time off for travel, would have delayed my plan. If this opportunity didn’t present itself, I don’t know if I ever would have done something like this, to be honest.” I said.

“Really? You don’t think you would have travelled abroad on your own time? I am so grateful for the years I got to tag along with my brother on his photography expeditions. We went to places that weren’t on the tourist pamphlets and I loved every minute of.” He said.

“Jack, I don’t even think I would have come on a trip like this if you weren’t the one going with me.” I looked down immediately after saying that. I felt a rush of warmth race through my system and my palms began to sweat. I couldn’t believe I just said that. But it was even more of a shock to realize it was true.

“Wow, Kate. I don’t know what to say,” Jack was staring down at the concrete and rocking back on his heels. “I’m happy to be here with you too.” He said a few moments.

I looked up into his eyes then. The chocolate pools of his eyes were brimming with sincerity. I noticed a few flecks on gold in the right iris as I stared back with the same intensity. My cheeks were blushing, I could feel the warmth filling them, along with a swarm of butterflies filling the inside of my stomach.

“HONK!” A taxicab pulled alongside the curb in front of us then.

“You all need a taxi?” The Frenchmen asked us through the rolled down window of the cab.

We dropped out gaze abruptly, startled by his arrival. The luggage at our feet and the confusion on our faces must have tipped the taximan off. Our confusion had more to do with our emotions at this point, but that’s not what he saw, I’m sure.

“We sure do, merci.” That was the extent of my French so far.

The taxi driver stepped out and helped Jack load our luggage into the back of the cab. Jack slipped a few euros in his hand and we settled into the backseat. It was a short drive, but a long stretch of silence as we both sat deep in thought.

I was thinking about my sister’s advice increasingly, and never felt more grateful that I packed a boob shirt and a thong.