In spite of the fact he’d been seeing Nikki for some time, Jonathan realized he actually knew very little about her. She never spoke of her childhood. All she had told him in passing was her parents died when she was a child, and she went to live with her grandmother in Wisconsin afterward. When her grandmother passed, Nikki sold the house and moved to New York, where she’d found work as a journalist. What he did know was, although she had a fiery temper with a short fuse, her love was just as passionate. He’d be able to speak to her tomorrow. By then she’d have calmed down and be ready to apologize for her outburst.
* * * *
After the last entry on her to-do list was done, Nikki remembered the old shoebox she’d placed on the top shelf of her closet and went to retrieve it. When her grandmother died and Nikki decided to sell the house in Madison, Wisconsin, she sold most of the furniture and those items she wasn’t going to take with her to New York. When she cleaned the basement, she discovered several shoeboxes and photo albums packed inside a large carton. They were stuffed with pictures never put into photo albums. Another turned out to be a treasure trove of keepsakes from her parents. These were among the only things possessing sentimental value she kept before selling the place. When she moved into her Bayside, New York apartment, she’d stuck the box containing her parents’ Paris memorabilia on the shelf of her closet and had forgotten about it. She’d never completely gone through the shoebox to see what was inside. The thought of looking at her parents’ things was too painful at the time, though she’d hoped to be able to do so one day. Enough healing time had passed, and now that she intended to go to Paris, she desired to see what was inside.
Nikki grabbed the box off the shelf and set it down on the bed. Sitting cross-legged, she stared at the closed box a few minutes. She seemed to have a moment’s reluctance to open it, as if it would bring trouble like that of Pandora and nearly put it back on the shelf. Realizing she was behaving like a child, she lifted off the cover and began to slowly sift through the contents.
There were dozens of faded photos, in both color and black and white, of her mother and father. They were captured, forever in time, smiling in front of the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame. Numerous others were taken near the Louvre and other famous landmarks. She pulled out dog-eared picture postcards whose ink had long faded and small keepsakes like a miniature Eiffel Tower and a round metal key chain with Paris, France engraved in script across it.
On the bottom of the box lay the small gold locket on a chain which her mother had worn. Nikki believed it had been an anniversary gift from her father. Their last anniversary. Nikki closed her eyes and remembered her mother rushing into the kitchen to show the necklace to her grandmother.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it, mother? One-of-a-kind. Daniel noticed it in the window of a Parisian pawn shop. Thought it was the perfect thing for me. Oh, don’t you just love it?”
“Yes, it’s lovely,” Nikki heard her grandmother say. “Wear it always in good health.”
“There’s something else that makes this necklace so special. It’s supposed to have some spell cast upon it by a Gypsy.”
“Sounds mysterious. Enjoy it.” Her grandmother stirred the gravy once more before lowering the flame of the burner.
The memory faded. Nikki reached inside the shoebox and took out the beautiful piece of jewelry. When she tried to open the locket, she discovered the hinge was broken. She supposed the pictures inside were most likely of her mother and father. Too bad the necklace, just like her mother who’d once worn it, was defective. Because it was the only possession left from her mother, she put it on. Instantly, an image of a delicate-boned, red-haired woman with the fairest of skin, flashed in the back of her mind, but it was gone just as quickly.
* * * *
Later in bed, as Nikki lay there absentmindedly fingering the small gold locket, she thought about the wonderful things she’d do and see when she reached Paris. Her mother used to tell her stories about her fun adventures there. She described how beautiful the city looked in the spring when all the flowers began to bloom in the flower boxes dotting the apartment buildings and shops along the Champs Elysées. Nikki would often sit on the sofa alongside her mother while she pointed out the places she toured on bike rides or the romantic long walks through magnificent parks with landscaping that could have easily appeared in an issue of Better Homes and Gardens magazine. Trying to recall everything else her mother had told her about the City of Lights, Nikki eventually drifted off to sleep.
She dreamed she was strolling along the Champs Elysées on the arm of a bearded man. The weather was mild and the jacket of his lightweight, three-piece suit was unbuttoned, revealing a handsome gold-braided watch fob. She wore a shawl over her light dress and ruffled white blouse. A large, feathered hat was pulled down low over her forehead. Aside from shading her fair skin from the sun, it allowed her to walk incognito. They stopped at an outdoor café and sat down at a small, black, wrought-iron table with an opaque glass top. A waiter appeared a moment later and took their tea order.
The restaurant’s green and white, striped awning fluttered in the light breeze. Other couples taking advantage of the lovely weather strolled by, but she hardly noticed. She only had eyes for the man sitting close to her. They spoke in French. Every so often he’d pat her hand or gently rub his thigh against hers, exciting her. She wished she could respond with more than a smile. However, one still had to be discreet in public. She listened carefully as he spoke, bewitched by his words. “You inspire me,” he said. “The music flows within me like a river.”
“I am so glad, my love,” she replied, smiling. “I only desire to be your every inspiration.”
In the distance, she heard the chiming of a church bell announcing the hour. The bell grew louder and louder…until the incessant ringing finally woke her. It was the chirping of her cellphone which she’d left on the night stand. Still not fully awake, she answered.
“Feeling better?” Jonathan asked.
She glanced at the clock on her night table and jolted upright. She’d overslept. It was nearly ten o’clock.
“I can’t talk to you now, Jonathan.”
“You sound as if I woke you.”
“You did. I’m still at home and late for work.”
“Are you’re feeling better?” he asked once more.
“Didn’t give it any thought.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Let me go. I’ll talk to you later.”
Before Nikki had hung up he added, “Meet me at one for lunch at The Greek’s?”
Figuring it would be as good a time as any to tell him of her travel plans, she agreed. They often met at a small Greek restaurant aptly called The Greek’s, located within walking distance from either of their offices. And most importantly, the food was good and not too pricey.
Before she hurried into the shower, Nikki called the newsroom to let them know she’d be late. As she stood under the pulsating water, bits and pieces of her dream teased her memory. Only a moment’s recall would flash in front of her like the instant illumination of lighting during a thunder storm and then it was gone.
All she remembered was walking along a large street with a stranger sporting a bushy beard and sitting at an outdoor café drinking tea, of all things. The only time she drank tea was at a Chinese restaurant. Most likely the dream had something to do with Paris. After all, her trip was the last thing on her mind before she fell asleep. From what she could piece together about the dream, it must have been a weird one. However, there was no time now to dwell on it, she reminded herself as she shut off the water and reached for her bath towel.
* * * *
Nikki tried to be productive at her desk, but her mind kept wandering. Realizing Jonathan might not see her decision to fly off to another