A Summer in Paris Read online

  Kerry nodded. “I’m playing a six-year-old in a new musical. It’s going to be the hit of the season.”

  “Golly, that’s terrific!” Jennifer glanced over at Kristy and saw that she was keeping her eyes down and at the same time stuffing Oreos into her mouth as fast as she could.

  “Well, you shouldn’t be surprised, Jennifer, dear,” Ms. Connor said coolly. “It’s not as if Kerry hasn’t been doing plays and even television since she was four. You have seen her cereal commercial, haven’t you?”

  “Sure. Everybody in Weston knows that Kerry is practically a star. But a Broadway play? Gee!”

  “I thought it was off-Broadway,” Kristy mumbled. “Or maybe even off-off-Broad way.”

  Her mother didn’t seem to have heard her. “Kristy, did you read Kate’s letter? I left it on the dining room table. She has some wonderful news.”

  “I can hardly wait to hear it,” Kristy muttered. Jennifer was taken aback by her sullen tone, but once again, her mother acted as if she hadn’t even heard her.

  “Yes, your big sister has been nominated for May queen at her college. She sent a clipping from the school newspaper. Her picture was on the front page. It’s such an honor. Any one of the sorority girls would have given her eyeteeth to be May queen. Of course, it’s not as if her father and I haven’t been expecting it all along.”

  “Mom, since I’m going to be a famous Broadway actress,” Kerry interrupted, her voice an irritating whine, “does that mean I can get some new clothes? I think I deserve a whole new wardrobe.”

  “Of course,” Ms. Connor replied without hesitating for a moment. She leaned down and planted a quick kiss on top of her youngest daughter’s head. “Whatever you want, Kerry. Nothing is too good for my Broadway star.”

  “Something interesting happened at school today,” Kristy said, finally turning around to face her mother. “The kids who are taking Ms. Darcy’s advanced French class have been invited to spend the summer in Paris. The deal is that you live with a French family, studying the language at the Sorbonne and living in a different culture. It would be a great way for me to spend the summer before I go off to college in Boston in the fall.”

  “Why, Kristy, that’s just wonderful!” Ms. Connor’s face lit up, and there was real enthusiasm in her voice.

  “It is?” Kristy looked at her, blinking. “You mean you’re really excited about my having an opportunity like this?”

  “It sounds perfect. It lasts all summer?”

  “That’s right. July and August.”

  “It’s ideal, Kristy. I’d been worrying about how I’d manage this summer, what with having to take Kerry back and forth to New York for this play. Sending you abroad is the perfect solution.”

  Already Ms. Connor had turned away. “Now, come on upstairs, Kerry. It’s important that you start learning how to remove your makeup properly. Here, let me give you a lesson.”

  When they were gone, Kristy looked at Jennifer and smiled sadly.

  “See that?” she said, her green eyes shining with tears she wasn’t about to let fall. “I just knew that when my mom found out how important this Paris thing was to me, she wouldn’t hesitate to say yes.”

  * * * *

  It was past six by the time Jennifer slunk into her own house. The two cars in the driveway told her that her parents were already home. Her mother, Louise Johnson, was back from New York City, where she was a partner in a law firm. Her father, Dr. Paul Johnson, had apparently already finished seeing the day’s patients at the office in town that he shared with two other psychologists.

  She intended to delay talking to them, planning to slip upstairs to her bedroom so she could buy herself a little more time. But the moment she placed her foot on the first step, her mother popped into the front hall from the kitchen.

  “Oh, hi, Jennifer. I thought I heard you come in.”

  “Hi, Mom.” Longingly Jennifer glanced at the staircase. So much for her escape.

  “Listen, Dad picked up a pizza on his way home. He and I are just setting up in the kitchen. Why don’t you come and join us?”

  Reluctantly she followed her mother into the kitchen, where her father was carefully putting forks and napkins next to the plates he had already set at each place at the table.

  “Hi, sweetie,” he greeted her as she came in. “How was school today?”

  “Fine.” Jennifer dropped into a kitchen chair.

  “I’m just reheating this pizza,” her mother said. “It’ll be ready in about three minutes.” Louise Johnson’s eyes were twinkling. “But in the meantime, I have some incredible news that I’m just dying to tell you. Jen, you’ll never guess who I ran into at the train station this evening.”

  “Who, Mom?”

  “The principal of your school, that’s who. And Mr. Kramer had something very exciting to tell me.”

  Jennifer feel her heart sinking down somewhere into her stomach. “Oh, really?” she asked. But she already knew what was coming.

  “Paul, wait until you hear this,” Louise Johnson said to her husband. “Oh, sweetie, I’m so glad that I’m the one to tell you about this terrific surprise.” She took a deep breath. “Weston High has been asked to participate in an international exchange program. The seniors who are taking Ms. Darcy’s advanced French class have been invited to spend the summer in Paris, studying at the Sorbonne and living with a French family. Isn’t that fantastic?”

  “I already knew all about it, Mom,” Jennifer said. “My French teacher made an announcement in class today.”

  Her mother looked surprised. “You already knew? Goodness, then why didn’t you say anything when you first came in? Surely you didn’t think your father and I would say no to a wonderful opportunity like this, did you?” she added, beaming.

  “No, I didn’t think that.” Jennifer picked up her paper napkin and nervously began folding it over and over again. “Mom, this might come as a great surprise to you, but I didn’t plan on saying anything about the Paris thing because, well, I don’t want to go.”

  “You don’t want to go!” both her parents cried at the same time. They sounded like a chorus. Jennifer would have started laughing if she hadn’t been bracing herself for what she knew was coming.

  She took a deep breath. “Mom, Dad, I want to stay here in Weston this summer.”

  “Here ... in Weston?” Dr. Johnson repeated, incredulous.

  “Jennifer, what are you saying?” Her mother looked stunned. “Surely you can’t mean it. Why, any girl in her right mind would jump at the chance—”

  “I’m not ‘any girl!’ I’m me. And not only am I not jumping at the chance, I can’t think of anything I’d rather do less.”

  “But why?” Dr. Johnson demanded, still puzzled. “I don’t understand.”

  “Look, this is my last summer before college. All I want to do is stay home, get a summer job in town, see my friends, spend time with Danny....”

  “Oh, is that all.” Ms. Johnson sounded relieved. “You’re afraid you’ll miss Danny. Or maybe that he’ll find another girlfriend while you’re gone. Well, honey, I can assure you that Danny is just a high school romance, a sweet case of puppy love that you’ll soon begin to see as nothing more than-”

  “It’s not puppy love!” It was all Jennifer could do to keep from leaping out of her chair. “Danny and I really care about each other! It’s not fair of you to say something like that. Besides, if I’m old enough to go to France by myself, then I’m certainly old enough to decide how I want to spend my summer!”

  “You do have a point,” her father said. Her mother, meanwhile, was nodding.

  Jennifer was annoyed at how calm they were— and how irritating she was finding them at this moment. She would have found it more satisfying if they had started yelling at her. Instead, they were logical, thoughtful ... and totally in control. That was the problem with having a father who was a psychologist and a mother who was a lawyer. Between the two of them, they were always at least two steps ah
ead of her.

  “I’m sure I speak for your father when I say that we both understand how you’re feeling right now,” Louise Johnson said. “This is a difficult, confusing time for you. Of course you feel strong ties to your childhood. You’re not sure if you’re ready to grow up.”

  “Resistance to growing up and being on your own is very common,” her father chimed in. “In many ways it’s a terrifying prospect.”

  “I can’t stand it when you go all analytical and understanding on me,” Jennifer mumbled.

  “Your mother and I both know that this whole time is difficult for you, honey,” her father said. “But it’s about time you spread your wings a little. You’re almost eighteen, and it’s time to leave the nest, to venture out into the world a bit—”

  “I’m not a blue jay, for goodness sake!” Jennifer cried. “And I don’t see what’s wrong with being happy exactly where I am.”

  “What’s wrong with it,” her mother said calmly, “is that people don’t grow unless they take a few risks. You can’t spend your whole life hiding in a little town like Weston, Connecticut.”

  “I am going to Hartford in the fall,” Jennifer reminded them meekly, but her words went unnoticed.

  “Goodness, Jennifer,” her mother was saying, “the chance to live abroad, to expand your horizons, to feel comfortable somewhere other than the place in which you grew up....”

  “Dad?” Jennifer looked at him with desperation in her blue eyes.

  “I’m with your mother on this, sweetie. You’ve never been one to look very far outside yourself and your own experience. For a while now I’ve been feeling you need to go a bit beyond your small circle of friends, your cheerleading squad, the security of what you’ve always known. There’s a big world out there, and you owe it to yourself to find out what it’s like. And this summer program sounds like just the thing to get you started.”

  Jennifer looked from her father to her mother, then back to her father. She knew them well enough by now to be able to translate the expressions on their faces. And one thing was very clear: like it or not, she would be wise to start brushing up on her French vocabulary.

  * * * *

  “Je vais à Paris,” Nina Shaw happily sang as she cleared the table of the coffee cups and dessert dishes, noting with satisfaction that her chocolate mousse had been completely devoured. “I’m going to Paris. I’m really going. Je vais à Paris.”

  She had barely been able to eat dinner as she waited until dessert to spring her big news on her parents. Ms. Darcy’s announcement was all she could think about as her younger brother filled the family in on every last detail of the horror movie he and his friends had watched on TV after school that afternoon. As she tried to force herself to eat, she actually pinched herself a few times, just to be certain she wasn’t dreaming.

  But she wasn’t dreaming. It was real. Just as real as the fact that her parents had finally agreed to let her go.

  They hadn’t been very enthusiastic at first.

  “Paris?” her father had repeated, blinking hard. “Paris, France?”

  “Yes, Dad. Paris, France,” Nina had replied, laughing. She could remember having said those exact same words herself, not that long before.

  As usual, her mother and father were full of doubts. Nina wasn’t surprised. By this point in her life, she was fully prepared for her parents’ timidness about stepping off the straight and narrow path.

  Both of them, she knew, had always been perfectly happy with doing nothing more than working and taking care of their house. They found great comfort in always doing the same things, following the same routine, never taking any risks. Even on their infrequent vacations they never did anything more adventurous than visit some tourist spot like Williamsburg, Virginia, or Disney World. Even then, they invariably insisted upon staying at a Holiday Inn and eating all their meals in familiar chain restaurants and fast food places. And from what she could tell, her younger brother was turning out exactly the same way.

  She, meanwhile, had always been the dreamer of the family. She was the one who longed to travel, to try new things ... to experience life as fully as she possibly could. And so she had all her arguments ready for what was bound to come after she told them her news.

  “Paris,” her father continued muttering, shaking his head in disbelief.

  Her mother was at least willing to try to understand. “Well,” she said slowly, “it is true that going to France has been Nina’s dream for as long as any of us can remember.”

  “Yes, and now it’s finally going to happen.” Nina was quick to add, “That is, if you’ll let it happen.”

  Mr. Shaw frowned as he turned to face his wife. “But Emily, Paris, France? It’s so far away.”

  “It’s not as if I won’t be able to manage in another country,” Nina was quick to point out. “My French is good enough for me to get by, and I’m sure I’ll pick up even more in a very short time.”

  “But ...”

  “And if I’m going to get serious about becoming a writer—which you both know is what I really want to do—I think it’s very important for me to spend some time in Europe. And Paris is such a cultural center that it’s the ideal place.”

  “Nina, I don’t think you ...”

  “And I know I had planned to get a summer job to help pay my college expenses in the fall. But I do have a scholarship, and I’ll be getting a part-time job once school gets started. Besides, I’m going to a college that’s so close to West on that I’ll be living at home for at least the first year. We all agreed that that made the most sense, since going to school there was guaranteed to keep my expenses low.”

  Nina paused to take a deep breath. “Given all that, I just know I’ll manage somehow.”

  “And the cost of the trip?” her mother asked. “You know that we’re not wealthy people, Nina.”

  “The cost of the trip,” Nina said matter-of-factly, glad she had already thought all this out, “will be covered by the inheritance Grandma left me.”

  Her parents’ mouths dropped open. Nina knew then that she had made them see that despite their own reservations, in the end there was really nothing they could do to stand in her way.

  “My birthday is in just two more weeks,” Nina went on, “and you’ve been telling me for years that Grandma left me some money to be given to me when I turned eighteen. You always said she had made a point of saying it was to be used in any way I chose. And since Grandma herself spent a year in Paris, studying painting, I’m sure she’d be thrilled to have me use the money she left me for the same purpose.”

  In the end, her parents had agreed. They were still worried, but they recognized their daughter’s determination. Nina, meanwhile, was already making plans. In her head she was drawing up lists of what she would pack and what she would need to do before she left.

  But there was something else she simply had to do. Immediately after finishing up in the kitchen, she went upstairs to the second floor of the Shaws’ house, then continued up to the third floor.

  The attic was dusty, filled with old junk that nobody ever bothered with anymore. Nina couldn’t remember the last time either of her parents had been up there.

  To Nina, however, it was a special place. Stacked up behind the old clothes and the ice skates that no longer fit anyone and the cartons of her old art projects from elementary school, there was a heavy wooden trunk. It had belonged to her grandmother, and it was one more thing that Anna Wentworth had left to her favorite grandchild.

  Nina went over to it and opened it up. Lovingly she lifted out the old clothes, the fanciful hats, the albums filled with black-and-white photographs. And then, after pausing to make sure no one was coming up, she reached down to the bottom of the trunk. With great care she pulled out the real treasure her grandmother had left her, the secret that only her beloved granddaughter had shared—and even then, not until Nina’s grandmother had died.

  As she took out the small bundle and held it in her hands, N
ina’s eyes filled with tears.

  “This is for you,” she said aloud, her voice catching even though she was only speaking in a whisper. “Don’t worry, Grandma. Wherever you are, I want you to know that I haven’t forgotten. I’m going to Paris. Finally, hopefully, I’ll be able to put things right.”

  Chapter 2

  “I can’t believe my parents are really making me go through with this.” wailed Jennifer Johnson. “Oh, Danny, how am I ever going to live without you for two whole months?”

  “Well, Jen, I’m afraid we’re both going to have to find a way to deal with being apart—and pretty darned fast, too.”

  Danny glanced around at the crowds surrounding him at New York City’s busy John F. Kennedy Airport. Throngs of people were rushing by, lugging heavy suitcases, periodically checking the boarding passes and passports that were tucked into their pockets. Most of them looked happy, filled with anticipation about the trips they were about to take. He and Jennifer were definitely the exception.

  “I’m going to write to you every single day,” Jennifer insisted. She swatted at the tears streaming down her cheeks, no longer concerned about whether or not her mascara was running. “I’ll write twice a day.”

  “And I’ll write back,” Danny promised. “Look, it’s only eight weeks. The time is going to whiz right by. You’ll see. Now come on, Jen. It’s not the end of the world. Be brave.”

  Jennifer took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, I’ll be brave.” And then she burst into tears once again, burying her head in Danny’s shoulder and holding on so tightly it looked as if she had no intention of ever letting go.

  “I feel like I’m watching my favorite soap opera,” Kristy commented, glancing over in their direction from where she and Nina were sitting inside the waiting area of Gate 15. “I haven’t seen this much drama since Brent Hayworth on ‘The World is Wide’ left Courtney Galloway to join the Peace Corps.”

  Nina laughed. “Come on, Kristy. Have a heart. Jennifer is really torn up about this. And leaving Danny behind is only part of it. You know as well as I do that she simply doesn’t want to go.”