34
THE CAROUSEL IS BREATHTAKING, like all the other carousels in Paris. I love carousels — I’m obsessed with them. We take a seat on the bench, and watch the families. My eyes are drawn to the beautiful details of the carousel; the ornate gilding, the pretty colors — it’s like a giant toy, silently begging us to play. This particular carousel is a double decker. The horses at the top appear smaller, possibly reserved for small children.
My attention is devoted to one particular family. I sigh at the sight of them. They are so stunning, they could very well star in a Gap commercial. The mother is blonde and stylish with a toothpaste commercial smile. The father is equally as attractive but darker. The son is dark like his dad, and the little girl, who appears to be about five or so, has blonde locks just like her mother. The parents are standing next to the children who are seated on matching horses. The woman pulls the girl’s locks back from her face with the delicate touch of a mother, and her daughter smiles up brightly at her. They seem blissfully happy. I wonder what it would feel to have that. I realize that I do want this, but I just don’t think it’s in the cards for me. I have way too much baggage.
“You should hop on,” Oscar says. “You’re practically salivating at the sight of it. You know you waaannnt to!”
I laugh. “No, I’m okay sitting right here and enjoying the view. It’s for kids.”
“Well, you’re a kid. A big kid,” he teases. “I’ll go with you.”
“You’d probably break the horse,” I point out. “How much do you weigh anyway?”
He cocks a brow. “Are you body shaming me, girl?”
I laugh and shake my head.
He stands and grabs my hand. “You have no choice, Kayla,” he tells me. “Next round, I’m dragging you on. I’ll carry you, kicking and screaming, if I have to.”
When Oscar sets his mind to something, he usually gets what he wants. Especially when it comes to me. I smile up at him, conceding.
When the carousel eases to a stop, my pulse speeds up. I get excited at the thought of hopping onto one of those beautiful horses. We follow the children and their parents on, and I’m a little apprehensive.
“How ‘bout this one?” Oscar says, pointing to a lovely white horse. I nod, and he helps me climb up. I settle my rear in and hold on to the golden pole — it’s surprisingly comfortable. Oscar smiles at me. He’s standing tall next to me, like a devoted father. I feel like a little girl. It feels both weird and wonderful. As the carousel starts to turn, I close my eyes and enjoy the cool breeze on my face. My eyes pop open when I feel Oscar’s lips on my cheek. He smiles at me; a sexy wicked grin. Knowing him, he’s probably thinking about sex again, despite the fact that we’re surrounded by children.
I love every minute of it. I’m a little winded as we step off the ride. I grab Oscar’s hand. “Thanks for making me go on.”
“I knew you’d love it.”
That’s what I love about Oscar. He pulls me out of my comfort zone and encourages me to do things I wouldn’t otherwise do. He makes me believe in myself, makes me believe that I could do anything.
“How ‘bout I thank you with a coffee. I spotted this coffee cart not far from here. Care for a latte or a mocha, coffee boy?”
He grins. “You love calling me that, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“All right, yoga girl.”
We head to the coffee cart. It’s operated by a very old man, who looks like he could keel over any minute. His movements are dreadfully slow. Thankfully, we’re his only customers at the moment. Oscar and I stare at each other and stifle smiles. I reach into my purse for my wallet.
My heart skips a beat when I realize it’s not there. I feverishly dig through my purse — there’s not much in there; a pack of gum, a lipstick, Kleenex, and the keys to our apartment — thankfully, those are still there. “My wallet is missing!”
“What?!”
“It’s missing,” I repeat breathlessly. “It was stolen.”
Oscar’s eyes are round with surprise. “Oh, crap. I’m sorry, Kayla.”
I stare at the measly contents of my purse, speechless.
“What did you have in there? Credit cards?”
I shake my head. “No, I only had about forty bucks. Just cash. Thank God I didn’t have anything else in there.”
“Yeah, you were lucky.”
“Well, there’s that, I guess. Sorry, I can’t pay for the coffee.”
