By Kelly Gombert
This is her first chapter of a recurring story.
This is her second recurring story with us
“There’s another custom. It can act like a wishing well.” Ian said.
“You mean like coins in a fountain?”
“Yes.” He pulled out a couple of euro pennies and handed her one. They both dropped the coins.
“When do I get this wish?”
“Again, unclear. But there is one more tradition I think we ought to do.”
“More wish fulfilment?”
“Sort of.” He stepped forward back onto the marker, pulled her forward and brushed the hair out of her eyes. He cupped her face with both of his hands and kissed her gently. She wrapped her arms around his torso and returned the caress.
“I like this tradition,” said Jess. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a few others not so patiently waiting their turn to make wishes. “We should go.” Arm in arm, they meandered westward in the direction of the Louvre. “I wish I’d met you earlier. When is your flight tomorrow, wait,” she glanced at her watch, “It’s already tomorrow, today.”
“I have a cab coming for me at 6.”
“As in AM? As in a few hours from now?” Jess stopped in her tracks.
“Yes.”
“We should get back then. Do you have to pack still?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m where I want to be right now.” He hugged her closer as they walked. They arrived at the Cour Napoléon courtyard, dazzlingly lit up against the night sky.
“Did you know I.M. Pei is still alive. He’s 101.” Ian said.
“Would that I live to be that old. Actually, I’m shooting for my eleventy-first birthday. That’s the goal.”
“What?”
“You need to read The Hobbit,” she said.
“OK, given. But how old is, whatever you said?”
Jess answered, “Eleventy-first. One hundred eleven. Do-able.” They sat down next to one of the reflecting pools by the glass pyramid. “The oldest person ever was 122 years old when she died. I wrote a short story and looked it up. I think it would be both exciting and sad, to see so much technological and social advances but to also say goodbye to so many people in such a long life.” Jess yawned.
“Now, see what you did.” Ian yawned in response. “You’re going to have to quit that.”
“Well, I have been up for,” she looked at her watch and counted out on her fingers, “something like 20 hours. Can’t believe I was in London in the rain this morning, yesterday morning and now I’m here. With you.” She nudged him with her shoulder. He moved her from her shoulder and kissed her neck. She turned to face him and they were quiet for several minutes. Reluctantly, she slid out of his embrace and stood up. “We really should be heading back. Uncle Google says it will be about 45 minutes to the hostel. And you do have a cab to catch.”
“You trying to get rid of me?” Ian said, still sitting.
“No, no,” she insisted. “No. I just don’t want to be the reason you’ve missed your flight.”
“There are other flights,” he said. “But, you’re right. I do have an interview tomorrow. My father would kill me if I screwed it up. He called in a few favors to get it.” Jess reached for his hands and pulled him up.
“Come on, we don’t want to piss off your dad.” She tucked her hand in the crook of his arm as they headed north towards the hostel.
“You are trying to get rid of me,” he said, not joking this time.
She looked at her feet. “I’m not. I’m…” she paused.
“What is it?”
She shook her head. “It’s nothing…just…”
He stopped walking and looked into her face. “Tell me.”
“It will be easier,” she said in a rush.
“What will be easier?”
