BRIDGES OF TIME

CHAPTER SIX

Outside the opera house on the busy Parisian street Remie opened her purse to check her monetary situation. Her searching fingers found Davit’s card and she toyed with the idea of calling him. Why not, she said to herself, he did seem interested enough in her to give her his card.  Looking around she saw a phone booth across the street and squaring her shoulders she crossed the street, fished the right coins out of her purse and made the call. 

His deep voice came through the receiver, sounding genuinely happy that she called. He said he was busy at the moment but asked her if she’d like to have dinner with him. She hesitated for only a moment before jotting down the address he gave her and told him she would be there at seven p.m. She glanced at her watch, calculated how much time she had and since it was a lovely day, no rain expected until later that night, she fished out her guide book and decided to walk to the Jardin des Tulleries. It had been a long time since she had been able to have any time just for herself. Perhaps she’d pick up some wine for dinner.  Smiling to herself she began to walk, taking the time to browse along the many sidewalk kiosks and stalls along the Seine.

As she walked, she couldn’t help but notice the many couples strolling along hand in hand or sitting under the spreading chestnut trees kissing unashamedly. Well, after all this was Paris! Remie sighed, a wistful longing tugging at her heart as she remembered walking along these same streets with Scott when they had come to Paris as young students so long ago. What had happened to them? Would things have been different if she had been stronger and refused to give up her scholarship to follow Scott back home after he washed out of school? She would never know.

Street cleaners began to sluice the day’s clutter from the street and Remie realized that she should start looking for the right underground connection if she was to be at Davit’s place on time. A glance at her watch confirmed this and she quickened her pace. If she hurried, she’d still have time to buy that bottle of wine.

to be continued....

© 2003 Rose Carr

Contact the author:  Rosematuse@aol.com

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