The Odd Couple in Paris Read online

  THE ODD COUPLE IN PARIS

  The Odd Couple

  In Paris:

  SUMMER OF 1976

  By Patricia M. Swayze

  © 2020 by Patricia M. Swayze

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  In memory of Winfried and Wyatt

  Table of Contents

  Chockey Bickey

  Sticky Rice

  Buying Tickets

  Taking the Train to Nice

  Café Greco

  The Museums

  A Day at the Beach

  The Look of Innocence

  The Italians

  A Secret Meeting

  Having a Fling

  Returning to Paris

  The Art of Saying Goodbye

  Tiffany’s

  The Book Store

  Moulin Rouge

  The Post Card

  Last Dinner in Paris

  Last Walk

  Ride to the Airport

  Viva La Roma

  Trip to Siena, Tuscany

  Dinner at Le Belle

  The Olive Grove

  Note from the Author

  About the Author

  1

  Chockey Bickey

  “Would you like a Chockey Bickey?” asked Dillon.

  “Not right now,” said Lulu.

  “Do you know what that means?” asked Dillon.

  “Yes, chocolate croissant. I have an English grandmother.”

  “I went to a party when I first arrived in Paris, and a British lady asked me if I wanted one. I had no idea what that meant. It sounded so funny to me.”

  “The chocolate croissants are great,” said Lulu. “So, where are you from, and what are you doing in Paris?”

  “I’m from Hawaii, and I have a Ford art grant. They’re paying for my expenses. I just have to keep a journal and visit a few museums every week,” said Dillon. He grinned at Lulu as if he knew that he had gotten away with something. He had on a blue Hawaiian-print shirt, and his long bangs were swept to the side. He wore large, oversize glasses. He appeared preppy more than anything else.

  “Wow, how lucky.”

  “Um, a French guy is coming over here soon. We will be in my bedroom, which is the one over there. Then we’re going out for ice cream,” said Dillon. He oozed eccentricity and didn’t mind sharing with Lulu, who was a complete stranger.

  “Why are you telling me all this?” asked Lulu.

  “Just didn’t want you to think that it was strange.”

  “So, you’re like my uncle,” said Lulu.

  “There are lots of gay men in Paris,” said Dillon.

  Lulu heard a knock on the door. She went to her room to take a nap to recover from her jet lag. She wondered why it didn’t seem to have affected her uncle, Martin. She was happy that she and Martin had a free place to stay for the summer. His good friend Victor was traveling a lot and was generous in his offer to let them stay in his three-bedroom flat. She wasn’t expecting to see Dillon the art student. But they all had their own bedroom and bath, so it worked out great.

  She stood in Victor’s bedroom. Everything had an air of antiquity. The oriental rugs were a dark color but faded. The bookcases and clothes wardrobes were a dark walnut. The room had a look of the 1920s with heavy curtains that kept the light out. Even the bed frame looked old, but the mattress seemed decent as she laid down. Lulu wondered how many men had been in Victor’s bed. She was relieved that a maid came in once a week to clean the apartment and change the sheets on the bed. She never actually saw the maid, who seemed to have an uncanny sense of knowing when to enter the apartment when no one was around. She could always tell after the maid had visited, because there was a freshness in the air, and the curtains would be partially pulled back to reveal a back-alley view. At least the front part of the apartment had a pleasant view with a balcony.

  Her favorite thing in Victor’s bedroom was his record player and his assortment of albums. The one that she liked the best was the Joni Mitchell album. She had already played it a few times and loved the song, “Free Man in Paris.”

  After about an hour, she got up and saw Dillon come through the door with an ice cream cone. A thin Frenchman with long, wavy hair followed Dillon in. He said goodbye and promptly left.

  “That was a quick date.”

  “I know. I’m not going to see him anymore. I think he’s just using me. And the experience wasn’t pleasant.”

  “Why do you do it then?” asked Lulu.

  “Who’s going to be interested in a Japanese boy like me?”

  “You’re cute. And you’re worth more than an ice cream cone. How did you get to stay at Victor’s apartment?”

  Dillon started smiling. He looked amused. “I met Victor through another art student. He told me that I could stay here for two months. Victor is traveling quite a bit with his job on the culture committee. He’s a great guy and likes to have people that he trusts staying in his apartment. So this is perfect for me. The other art student, Jon, was here for a while, but he was kind of boring. He left a week ago.”

  “I’ve never met Victor, but my uncle has known Victor for several years.”

  “How long are you going to stay here?” asked Dillon.

  “I don’t know about my uncle Martin, but I’d like to stay here until the end of August. This is my first time in Paris. My grandmother sent me here after finishing graduate school. She promised me that if I went to graduate school she would pay for my trip to Paris. I really wasn’t that motivated after getting my BA. But she’s very persistent and kept dangling that carrot in front of my nose.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean. I have another semester to finish for my MFA. I’m doing a large art project for studio credit. I’ll be so happy when I’m done. My dad didn’t want me to go into the art field, but after I did, he insisted I get the highest degree.”

  “Martin has a PhD. His mother is my grandmother. She’s very formal and goal oriented. Maybe because she’s from England originally and wears the pants in the family.”

  “Your uncle Martin is a really good-looking guy. Where is he anyway?”

  “He went out for a while. He gave me a quick tour of the Louvre and it made my head spin. I’m still suffering from jet lag. He walks so fast. He’s probably seen the Louvre ten times by now and wanted to get it over with. We watched a group of Japanese come into the museum. They ran straight to the Mona Lisa, took pictures and then ran back out.”

  “How funny. Where are you from?”

  “I’m from San Diego, but I lived in San Francisco when I was a child. I went to Berkeley for my degrees.”

  “That’s cool. I’m going to move to San Francisco after I get my MFA. I like Hawaii, but I want to live on the mainland for a while. And my good friend, Jena, lives there. Jena and I went to college together. She was a year ahead of me.”

  Lulu hoped that Paris wouldn’t be a repeat of whenever she visited San Francisco. Her uncle introduced her to some gorgeous men, but she was always disappointed. Her uncle had affairs with women when he was younger, but now it seemed that he preferred a man’s company. He said that he could talk more intellectually with a man. She didn’t know if she really believed this. There were plenty of women that were his intellectual equal. The female students in her uncle’s class were always falling in love with him and getting crushes.
/>   Martin was once asked by a modeling agency if he wanted to model. But he had no interest in being a model. He was academically oriented, teaching French and German literature. Being a professor gave him the opportunity to write, which was his major passion, and to travel. He didn’t want to settle down. He preferred apartment living and owning few possessions. He was a citizen of the world.

  Dillon sat down at the small table in the living room while Lulu got herself a cup of tea. “Hey, can I do your portrait?”

  “No, I’m not in the mood.”

  “Please, please. It won’t take long and all you have to do is sit here in the chair.”

  “Well, all right, but don’t make me look weird.”

  “I have to warn you, portraits don’t always look like people imagine they’re going to look like.”

  After thirty minutes of drawing, Dillon handed the large stretch pad to Lulu.

  Lulu didn’t say anything for a minute. “You don’t like it?” asked Dillon while grinning.

  “It’s pretty good, but it doesn’t look like me. It looks like someone famous, but I can’t think of whom. My nose looks different than that.”

  “Yeah, it looks like Patty Hearst. I can’t get her out of my head.”

  “Stop laughing,” said Lulu.

  “What time do you think you’ll go out to dinner, Patty?”

  “Don’t call me Patty—I hate that name! I’d rather you call me Lu.”

  “OK, Patty, Lu, Chockey Bickey.”

  “I’m going back to my room,” said Lulu.

  “Don’t do that. Let’s go for a coffee and watch the people for a while. Martin probably won’t want to eat until 8:00 p.m. That’s when all the French go out to dinner.”

  “That seems so late. I’m used to eating at 6:00 p.m.”

  “Me too. Does that mean that we aren’t chic like the Parisians?”

  “It’s a little chilly now. It was a lot warmer earlier,” said Dillon.

  “It’s always a little cooler in the evening. Why do you always wear Hawaiian shirts and shorts?”

  “That’s what I wear when I’m home, and I don’t have any other clothes.”

  “You should have at least one pair of long pants. Paris isn’t Hawaii.”

  “Let’s sit here and have a coffee,” said Dillon.

  “I’ll have a tea. I want to be able to sleep tonight.” The thin French waiter with a comb-over came to take their order.

  “Un café,” said Dillon.

  “And you, mademoiselle?”

  “A tea, s’il vous plaît.”

  “Isn’t this fun—practicing the few French words that we know?”

  “Oui.” said Lulu.

  “That guy is really cute. But his pants are too tight,” said Dillon.

  “Most of the men here are thin with tight pants. So far, I’m not impressed with the French men. Too skinny and not clean-shaven. They remind me of Parisian rats—the ones that I have seen so far. I like the Italian and American men better.”

  “Yeah, the women are really thin too. Maybe they can’t afford to eat three meals a day with their expensive clothes,” said Dillon.

  “They really look well dressed at all times. They walk a lot too and smoke lots of cigarettes,” said Lulu.

  “Hey, there’s one that’s fat—the woman with the poodle.”

  “She’s middle-aged. Probably eats too much pastry,” said Lulu. Dillon grinned. But then, Dillon always seemed to be grinning or laughing. He was never in a bad mood. He spoke to everyone, and if they didn’t respond, he didn’t seem to care.

  “You’re the silliest person that I’ve ever met. Do you have to smile and wave at everyone walking by if they glance your way?” asked Lulu.

  “Yes, why not, Chockey Bickey. Do you have a boyfriend?”

  “My boyfriend is really good looking, but he’s too young, only twenty-one. He’s going to graduate school in Boulder this fall. His mother is an artist, and his father is a psychiatrist. So he wants to combine the subjects because he likes both.”

  “How is he going to do that?”

  “He wants to become a recreational therapist.”

  “Do you miss him?”

  “Yes, but I know that it’s over between us. He’s going to Boulder in the fall, and I’m in San Diego. On our last date before I came to Paris, we went to an old cemetery. We sat on a blanket having a picnic, and it was very bittersweet. It was a metaphor for our parting ways. He probably went back to his old girlfriend for the summer. They were high school sweethearts. He showed me a picture of her, and I was surprised to see that they looked like siblings.”

  “That is kind of weird having a picnic in a cemetery. Should we go back now?” asked Dillon.

  By the time they returned to the apartment, Martin was there. “Do you want to go out for dinner at 8:00 p.m.? It’s the chic time to eat in Paris,” said Martin.

  “Sure. I am going to freshen up,” said Lulu.

  They picked a small café that the locals went to. “I’m thinking of going to Rome in two days from now. Do you think that you can manage on your own here in Paris?” asked Martin.

  “I guess so. It’s a little awkward not speaking any French, but I can survive,” said Lulu.

  “What are you going to do, Dillon?” asked Martin.

  “I want to visit Nice again and see some of the museums there. The weather is great in Nice.”

  “Maybe you and Lulu can go together.”

  Lulu looked at Dillon. She wasn’t sure if he wanted her to go with him. “That would be fun if we travel together,” said Dillon.

  Martin looked relieved. He really wanted to get to Rome. Rome represented a raw masculinity—the food, the red wine, the dark men. He wanted to lie out on the beach and get the sun that he missed while living in San Francisco. Rome was just the sexiest city, and he tried to travel there every summer. He really didn’t feel like being a tour guide for his niece, and he felt that Lulu and Dillon were close enough in age to do things together.

  On the way back to the apartment, Lulu saw a young French man carrying what looked like a purse in one hand without a handle. “Is it fashionable for men to carry hand purses now?” asked Lulu.

  “It’s probably a bag to hold his enema kit. It looks like the one that I have. It’s very fashionable now for gay men to take them along on a date.” Dillon grinned, but didn’t say anything.

  “That’s interesting.” Lulu wasn’t sure if her uncle was serious or not.

  “I really like the way that the French menu describes plain, everyday food. A baked potato is described as a potato in a silver cloud,” said Lulu.

  “You could read that?” asked Martin.

  “I took a French culture course my senior year in college. It was all about reading a French menu,” said Lulu.

  “Do you want to see some famous gardens in Paris tomorrow, before I leave for Rome?”

  “Yes, I love gardens,” said Lulu.

  “I’m going to visit a museum in the morning. Maybe we can meet up later during the day,” said Dillon.

  “Bonne nuit,” said Martin.

  “Good night” said Lulu.

  Lulu went to her room and played Joni Mitchell music. “Free Man in Paris” was Victor’s favorite song. Martin told her that Victor played it a lot. She could understand why. There was something about that tune that made her want to play it all day. She felt free in Paris. Finishing graduate school was such a relief for her. She never wanted to go, but her grandmother insisted. Her grandmother, Julia, was a headstrong and determined woman. She pushed Martin to get his PhD. She promised Lulu a Paris vacation if she got her MA. Now Lulu had made up her mind that she was finished with school. She wasn’t going for a PhD, no matter what her grandmother told her.

  Martin was already up by 8:00 a.m. reading the Paris news
paper and sitting at the table with Dillon. “When do you think Lulu is going to get up?” asked Martin.

  “I don’t know. She probably has jet lag.”

  “Do you know if she has a boyfriend?”

  “She told me yesterday that she has a boyfriend, but they were splitting up because he was transferring to Boulder in the fall. He’s a few years younger. She’s really beautiful. I don’t think that she would have a problem finding a boyfriend.”

  “Bonjour,” said Lulu.

  “Have something to eat and then we can go to the Jardin du Luxembourg park. It’s a very romantic and beautiful garden,” said Martin.

  “I’m not hungry. I’ll skip breakfast.”

  “You look very nice in your sundress and hat. Just like an English rose,” said Dillon.

  “Thanks. Have fun at the museum.”

  “We can walk along the Champs-Elysees to get to the park,” said Martin. They strolled along looking into the windows.

  “All these beautiful shops. I wish that I could afford to buy the clothes and jewelry.”

  “Maybe you will someday.”

  “Not on a teacher’s salary.”

  “You need a rich husband,” said Martin.

  “I wouldn’t mind if everything came in one package. I’m kind of picky.”

  “I’m guessing that you don’t have a boyfriend since I never hear you talking about anyone.”

  “I sort of have one. But he’s only twenty-one. He’s drop-dead gorgeous, but too young. He’s going to transfer to Boulder in the fall to start on his master’s. I have a feeling that he’ll go back to his high school sweetheart since I’m in Europe. But it’s just as well.

  “But you’re enjoying Paris, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I wish I could stay somewhere in Europe for a while. It’s so relaxing. The people here really know how to live and enjoy themselves. I need to relax. I’m burned out from getting my master’s. I’m just now starting to unwind.” Martin was silent.

  They walked into the park that had many beautiful fountains. Lovers were together holding hands, and mothers were pushing baby carriages. Martin and Lulu sat down on a bench. “Let me take some pictures of you,” said Martin. After he took pictures, Lulu got out her camera and took a few of Martin with a fountain in the background and flowers. They walked farther until they found a cafe near the park and ordered coffees and sandwiches.