The Odd Couple in Paris Read online

  “You make a good-looking couple,” said the waitress with an Asian accent.

  “Thank you,” said Lulu grinning.

  As Dillon returned, Lulu told him that the waitress thought that they were a married couple.

  “OK, honey, let’s go. It isn’t too far of a walk,” said Dillon. They proceeded to walk for about five minutes.

  “You’ve been here before haven’t you?”

  “Yes, but I haven’t actually gone inside this museum. They have a great garden outside too.”

  “The weather here is great. I definitely like it better than Paris. Look, don’t those two guys look familiar?” asked Lulu.

  “It’s the two Swiss guys from the train. I don’t recognize the girl with them though.”

  “She looks American,” said Lulu.

  “Hey, what’s happening?” asked Dillon.

  “Hello. How do you like Nice?” asked Hans.

  “We like it so far,” said Lulu.

  “We hate Paris—the people are so arrogant. This is Mary,” said Hans.

  “Hi, Mary. Where are you from?” asked Dillon.

  “I’m from New Jersey.”

  “We don’t mind Paris because we don’t understand French, so, if they’re arrogant, it doesn’t matter to us,” said Lulu. Mary smiled.

  “Are you going in the museum?” asked Lulu.

  “No, we’re going to a café. Tomorrow we’re leaving for Spain,” answered Hans.

  “Bon voyage,” said Dillon.

  “Ciao,” said Lulu.

  They entered the small house that was the Monet museum. “How cute this place is! Well, she definitely is a plain chick, and she wasn’t thin, just average.”

  “Don’t let Hans get to you. He said that you were fat because you’re out of his league. His sidekick, Peter, couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.”

  “Gee, thanks. Peter looks like a nerd,” said Lulu.

  Dillon made some quick sketches as Lulu wandered around looking at all of the Monet paintings. “I’m ready to go out to the garden. They serve coffee there,” said Dillon.

  “I love this place. I’d like to have a little house with a garden like this. And two cats.”

  “Why two cats?” asked Dillon.

  “I just thought of the Crosby, Stills & Nash song. I know that sounds funny, but I connect things with music sometimes.”

  “I get it.”

  Dillon held up two fingers and said “Café” to the waitress. “I think that we should skip lunch while we’re in Nice and buy a fresh banana split every day. There’s a family vender on the street near our hotel that makes the best banana splits with real whipped cream.”

  “Cool. Let’s get one on our way back, and then go to the beach at 2:00 pm,” said Lulu.

  “I don’t have a bathing suit,” said Dillon.

  “Are you serious? Who travels and doesn’t take along a bathing suit?”

  “I warned you that I wasn’t interested in the beach.”

  “I have a pair of generic shorts that you can borrow,” said Lulu.

  “I’ll have to look at them first. You can’t wear just anything in the ocean.”

  “I’m sure the shorts will work, Chockey Bickey.”

  “Speaking of chockey bickies, we should stop off at the bakery near the beach. They have the best pastry in the world.”

  “I may end up fat, after all. First, we’re getting a banana split, then pastry.”

  “Don’t worry about it. We walk a lot,” said Dillon.

  They walked along while Dillon said hello to everyone. Everyone smiled back and said, “Bonjour.”

  “People really are more friendly here than in Paris,” said Lulu.

  “Everyone is friendlier than the Parisians,” said Dillon.

  “Yeah, that’s for sure. Look, is that the street vender with the ice cream?”

  “That’s the one. His whole family helps.”

  “How sweet. I’ll have the vanilla with some chocolate sauce and the nuts,” said Lulu to the vendor.

  “I’ll pay for it,” said Dillon.

  “Merci. The whipped cream is incredible. So fresh!”

  “Yeah, I’ve never had ice cream like this in the States,” said Dillon.

  “Let’s walk the long way back.”

  “OK,” said Dillon.

  “Do you realize how lucky we are to be in this place right now?” asked Lulu.

  “I’m lucky to have the Ford grant, but to be honest, my parents can afford to pay for this. They’re doing well with their stores in Hawaii. But like most Asians, they’re very frugal. My dad doesn’t believe in my art career, so he definitely would not have sponsored my trip to go and visit museums.”

  “My parents are middle class, but my maternal grandmother is the one with the money. My mom is just waiting for me to find someone and give her grandchildren.”

  “I think my parents have given up on that idea. I don’t have any desire for kids,” said Dillon.

  “You’re like a big kid yourself,” said Lulu grinning.

  “I hope that I never change,” said Dillon.

  “Not everyone’s meant to have kids. I don’t really think that I want any. That could always change when I am older, but it’s not a priority in life for me,” said Lulu.

  “Well here we are, back at our hotel. Can you show me the shorts when we get upstairs?”

  “Sure.”

  “Bonjour,” said Dillon to Mr. Benoit.

  “He’s always frowning when he see us,” said Lulu.

  “That’s because he found out that we’re not Canadians.”

  “Oh, what a dickhead he is anyway. I’d like to wax that mustache right off of his face,” said Lulu. Then Lulu started laughing and Dillon joined her.

  7

  A Day at the Beach

  “Here are the shorts; they have a nice blue color.”

  “They look kind of stretchy, are you sure they’ll work in water?” asked Dillon.

  “Positive. You can swim in these,” said Lulu.

  “Let me try them on and see if they fit,” said Dillon. Dillon went into the bathroom to change.

  “They look good and fit you perfectly. All you need is a T-shirt or one of your Hawaiian shirts. I know that you have plenty of those.”

  “I’m going down to the lobby and see you at two,” said Dillon.

  “OK, see you then.”

  At 2:00 p.m., they headed in the direction of the beach. A few blocks from the beach, they could smell the aroma coming from the bakery that Dillon had mentioned. “I have to go in there,” said Lulu.

  “I warned you,” said Dillon. They both bought the apricot tartlet.

  “Why can’t they make pastry this good in the States?” said Lulu.

  “Maybe because they don’t make it fresh every day. It’s not as sweet as American pastry.”

  “I see the beach. It doesn’t look very crowded.”

  “Are you going to go topless?” asked Dillon.

  “I’m wearing a one-piece, so that’s out of the question. I wouldn’t anyway.”

  “Oh, such a prude. Everyone will know that you are an American. Look at all of those girls with no tops on.”

  “Look at all of those guys wearing tiny Speedos. How disgusting. You can see their whole package. I thought that guys wore a jockstrap or something to keep things in place,” said Lulu.

  Dillon laughed. “They obviously want the girls to notice, or they don’t care.”

  “This looks like a good spot to put our towels down,” said Lulu.

  “Those guys look cute,” said Dillon.

  “They look a little young for me.”

  “They’re looking your way,” said Dillon.

  “Hey, they might be looking at you.”


  “Yeah, very funny. I am going into the ocean, it’s too boring just sunbathing,” said Dillon.

  Dillon was swimming but not very far. He seemed to be enjoying himself. Lulu was reading a book. Then she heard laughing from the group of guys not too far from her. She looked up and saw Dillon walking out of the water. His shorts had turned into a skirt with pleats. Sand had gotten into the hems and was weighing down the shorts. The guys were now rolling around in the sand laughing so hard. Lulu had to start laughing herself because she had never seen anything so ridiculous. The only thing that Dillon could do was laugh at himself.

  “Well, so much for your generic shorts! You said that they wouldn’t stretch out.”

  “I’m so sorry Dillon, I can’t look at you now. You look so funny. I don’t want to start laughing again.”

  “Oh, go ahead. Everyone else is.”

  “It looks like you’re wearing a kilt. I had no idea it would stretch out like that. Oh my God. How are you going to walk all the way back to the hotel?”

  “Let’s go now. Maybe I can put this towel around me. The towel is too small.”

  “It looks just as bad with the towel. Put your shirt on,” said Lulu.

  “I’m not going to wear my shirt because then I’ll really look like I’m wearing a skirt.”

  As they walked down the sidewalk toward the hotel, Dillon was acting really silly, and Lulu was getting embarrassed. Two middle-aged French women walked toward them, and Dillon started saying hello to them. They started to scold him, and it was clear that they didn’t approve, even though Lulu and Dillon didn’t understand what they were saying. “Fuck you, if you don’t like the way I look,” said Dillon while grinning and smiling.

  “Don’t say that.”

  “They don’t know what I’m saying.”

  They entered the lobby and were greeted by Mr. Benoit. He started to grin and tried to contain himself. Dillon hurriedly got on the elevator, and Lulu decided to sit outside in the small café. She wanted to give Dillon a chance to take a shower and to give him some space. Whenever she thought of him, she started to laugh.

  Forty minutes later Dillon appeared in his Hawaiian shirt and shorts. “I threw your generic shorts away. I would have burned them, but I don’t have any matches. No more beach for me—don’t even ask me to go again.”

  “It’s OK; I can go to the beach by myself, Chockey Bickey. Let me buy you a glass of wine, and I’ll order some pretzels.”

  They both had a few glasses of wine. Dillon finally mellowed out and decided to go for a walk, while Lulu went to a small market and bought herself a sandwich. She went up to her room and sat on the balcony.

  She couldn’t blame him for being upset. But he should have brought a bathing suit with him, she thought. She wondered what her uncle was up to. She had not heard from him since he took off to Rome. Tomorrow she was going to buy postcards to send to her parents and her grandmother. She would be back in Paris before they would receive them. She would miss Nice.

  Lulu went to bed early. Dillon came in late after meeting some people from a local bar. He tried to be quiet. Sometime during the night, Lulu woke up and noticed that Dillon had his legs wrapped around her. She moved away and laughed to herself.

  In the morning Dillon jumped out of bed to have the complimentary breakfast. Lulu was still in bed when he came up with a tray with her breakfast. “Thanks for bringing up my breakfast, but I would have gone down.”

  “They stop serving after 9:00 a.m. and its 9:15 a.m. now,” said Dillon.

  “I didn’t realize that it was so late, must have been all that wine I drank last night. Where did you go?”

  Dillon grinned. “I went to a bar and met some interesting people. One guy lives in Paris, and I invited him to see us when he returns from Nice.”

  “What’s his name?” asked Lulu.

  “Jacques. He works in a bookstore that his father owns. It’s not too far from Philippe’s apartment.”

  “Is he cute?” asked Lulu.

  “Very—you’ll like him. He’s interesting.”

  “Hey, last night I woke up and you had your legs wrapped around mine,” said Lulu while grinning.

  “Oh, really. Well, I must have been dreaming about someone.”

  “Are you going to the museum now?” asked Lulu.

  “Yes, I’ll see you later in the afternoon.”

  8

  The Look of Innocence

  Lulu got herself ready for the beach. She was in a hurry, so she didn’t take Dillon’s advice about softening up the toilet paper. She left the toilet stopped up but thought that the maid would have to deal with it.

  It was a warm and sultry day at the beach. Lulu stood trying to decide where to sit. Most of the beach was rock, so she realized that she would have to sit farther down because she didn’t have a lounge chair with her. Her problem was soon solved by a beach attendant coming with a chair and towel. He must think that I’m a hotel guest, thought Lulu. He was tall and blond and didn’t look French.

  “Would you like this chair and towel?” he asked.

  “Yes, that would be great. How did you know that I speak English?”

  “Well, you’re wearing a one-piece bathing suit. Only the American or Canadian girls don’t go topless.

  “Oh, I forgot about that,” said Lulu while laughing. “You sound Canadian.”

  “Yes, I am. If you need anything, let me know.”

  “Thank you,” said Lulu as she handed him two dollars.

  Lulu sat looking at the sunbathers. All the girls had their tops off. Of course, he knew that I was American, thought Lulu. She took out a book that she had been wanting to read: Dolores by Jacqueline Susann. The story was based on the life of Jacqueline Kennedy, someone that Lulu was fascinated with. She became engrossed in her book until she started to get red from the sun. It had already been two hours, and she decided that it was time to get out of the tropical sun and head back to the hotel. On her way she stopped into the bakery and bought two chocolate croissants. She ate hers while walking along the sidewalk but saved the second one for Dillon.

  A middle-aged man with graying hair wearing a button-down shirt and slacks approached her. Lulu thought that he must be a tourist wanting to ask directions. He said, “Bonjour,” and asked her something in French.

  “I don’t speak French,” said Lulu.

  “I speak English. How would you like to have a cup of coffee with me?” asked the French man while smiling. His teeth were slightly crooked with a yellow tint like many middle-aged men. Lulu guessed that he was around fifty years old. Lulu hesitated, thinking that something wasn’t right.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m leaving town soon and don’t have time.”

  “How would you like to go with me to the hotel and make much money in twenty minutes?”

  “I’m not interested—go away. You’re disgusting,” said Lulu. The man just shrugged his shoulders and left.

  God, what’s wrong with these men? Do they think all American women are easy? thought Lulu. Lulu walked back to the hotel and took the elevator up to find Dillon pacing the hallway. He didn’t look happy.

  “You didn’t listen to me about the toilet paper. Next time you’re going to have to deal with the maid. She was screaming profanities at me in French. The toilet was running over.”

  “Oh, sorry. Which maid was it?”

  “The big one with the black mustache.”

  Lulu was grinning now. “I was in a hurry, Chockey Bickey. I just forgot but look what I bought for you. Lulu handed him the paper sack with the chocolate croissant. Do you want to go downstairs for a coffee? I just have to put my things away.”

  “OK, I’ll have this with the coffee.” It was hard for Dillon to stay mad for very long—it just wasn’t in his DNA. His whole family was very serious, but he was always the clown, the funny one. His older brot
her was a CPA and the middle brother was a doctor. Dillon was the youngest and not serious like the rest of his family. They sometimes wondered how he could be so different. He was friendly to everyone and had no problem talking to complete strangers. There was something so likable about his personality. His only flaw was that he could be a drama queen. Lulu had to have time away from Dillon because he could become too much for her after several hours.

  Lulu had a good sense of humor but wasn’t as zany as Dillon. She didn’t always want to talk to strangers, but she was a kind person. She often wished that she could be more outgoing like Dillon, but it just wasn’t part of her personality. She didn’t think that she could pull it off without looking completely crazy. For some reason Dillon was able to without people thinking he was crazy.

  Dillon and Lulu sat drinking their coffee at the café next door. “Where should we go to eat tonight?” asked Dillon.

  “Let’s just walk around until we see something interesting. Do you remember what I was wearing today when I returned from the beach?” asked Lulu.

  “Yeah, you had on cutoffs and a white shirt. Why?”

  “Well, a middle-aged man stopped and said bonjour when I came out of the bakery. I thought that he wanted to ask directions by the way he was acting, and I told him that I didn’t speak French. He said that he spoke English and then asked me if I wanted to have a cup of coffee with him. I told him that I didn’t have time, and he asked me if I wanted to go with him to his hotel and ‘make much money in twenty minutes’. I don’t look like a prostitute. No makeup. Dressed casually. I don’t get it.”

  “You look young and innocent. He was just a creep—horny, old bastard. Maybe he has a thing for young, innocent-looking women. The men I meet just want to see my muscles,” laughed Dillon.

  “That’s weird too. I’m going to go upstairs to wash my hair and get the sand off of me before we go out to dinner.”

  “I’ll just sit here for a while. I don’t need to change.” Dillon had on his khaki-colored shorts and a blue, Hawaiian-print shirt. He smiled at the people walking by, called out, “Bonjour,” and ordered a second cup of coffee. He had his journal with him and wrote down what he had seen at the museum. Some of his writing was made up, but he felt that he had to embellish to make it more interesting. He didn’t enjoy having to write in his journal every day, but he was obligated to because it was part of the deal for getting a free trip to Paris. He wondered if someone was actually going to look at it and read it. Well, if they did, they were going to get a good laugh out of it, thought Dillon. His sketches were kind of weird too. He didn’t want Lulu to read his journal because she had an English master’s. But then she never asked to see it. She wasn’t intrusive—that was one of the things that he loved about Lulu.