I feel his lips press to my forehead.He kisses me twice and whispers, “Happy Birthday, Sunshine.”
My smile takes over.“It’s my birthday.I almost forgot.”
“I was inside of you when you turned twenty-two.That means forever, right?”
“Ha ha.”I nudge him with my knee, but then I stop laughing.“Oh my God, you’re right.You were inside of me when I turned twenty-two.That definitely means something.”Sliding my head up to see his face, I ask, “Why do you call me Sunshine?”
“That’s for another day.It’s late.Go to sleep.”
“Okay.”With a goofy grin on my face, I whisper, “Goodnight.”
“Fais de beaux rêves.”
“Tell me what that means.”
With another kiss to my forehead he says, “Sweet dreams.”
“Fais de beaux rêves.”
On my twenty-secondbirthday I wake up alone on the top bunk in a room in a hostel in the middle of Paris.Other than the alone part, it’s good.I’m in Paris on my birthday.It’s hard to complain.Leaning over the edge of the bed, I look down to see if Olivier is here.
He’s not.
But a note and his phone are on the nightstand.Maybe he just ran out for a minute or even better, to get us coffee again.I climb down the bed and take the note in hand.
Cher Rayon de Soleil,
Joyeux anniversaire!
I have to work, but I want to meet you, take you out for a birthday meal.I’ve left my phone, so I can call you after work.I shall see you later, love.
Tout mon amour,
Olivier
I take the phone in hand and hold it to my heart.Even I know him trusting me with his phone is like trusting me with his heart.After dropping it into my purse, I pull out a dress I’ve waited to wear all week.It’s frilly, has a bow for the belt, and makes me feel pretty.I found it online and had to have it.It’s a perfect fit and I just knew it had to come to Paris with me.
After getting ready, I grab my purse and coat and head out.I had planned on visiting another museum, but I’ve decided to scrap my schedule and follow my heart to the Eiffel Tower—straight, no stops.I’ve been here for four days and still not seen it.That must be a crime by French standards.
Stopping in a bakery along the way, I get a hot coffee to warm me up along with a chocolate éclair to treat myself.If I can’t eat dessert first on my birthday, then when can I?I take in a few shops as I stroll to the subway station, finding a cute leather wallet with an embroidered design on it.
Back on track to La Tour Eiffel, I feel comfortable enough after walking most of Paris over the last few days to guide myself and leave my map tucked away.Two train stops and one change later, I arrive in the 7tharrondissement.The weather is clear even though it’s a little chilly, but I don’t mind taking my time, so I start walking again, but stop in my tracks.
There.
It.
Is.
The Eiffel Tower stands before me, tall and proud.I could probably stand here another hour admiring it, but I run instead, way too excited to play it cool.
When they ask if you want to walk, take the elevator.Leave the stairs for those of us who like to linger at all the major levels.I hate feeling rushed by others and can’t get enough of the view of this gorgeous, historical city.I stare out for miles, imagining where Olivier might be.Taking the phone from my purse, I check for missed calls.There aren’t any, so I tuck it back in again.
I spend well over an hour enjoying the climb up and coming back down before leaving and finding a spot to sit on the lawn.I lay back, staring at the top of the tower against the blue of the sky.My birthday really couldn’t get any better.
Then a rap song blares from inside my purse.Olivier!
I hurry to answer.“Hi.”
