After the waiter served their food and they both ordered a glass of wine, Naomi asked, “What did you think of the Wall of Love? Le mur des je t’aime.”
“I think it’s very romantic. Four hundred square feet of blue lava tiles with ‘I love you’ written on it in more than three hundred different languages. With all the rose bushes planted in front of it, it’s like a garden dedicated to love.”
Naomi gave Stella a thoughtful look and said, “Do you believe there’s only one person out there who’s meant just for you?” She made air quotes. “Your soul mate.”
“Yes.” At least I used to think so. “And you?”
“Well, I guess it depends on how you define soul mate,” Naomi propped her chin in the palm of her hand. “If you say it’s someone you’re predestined to be with, then I’d say no. If it’s someone who understands you, who gets under your skin like no other person, someone you can’t walk away from without being in physical pain, then maybe.”
“So, does it mean you believe in soul mates or not?” Stella repeated her question.
“I don’t know.”
CHAPTER 9
Stella—July 2018
“I
can’t believe we’re up this early. At least we’re getting first dibs on the breakfast buffet,” Stella said, and filled her plate with fresh fruit, some scrambled eggs, and toasted slices of fresh baguette before helping herself to coffee from a large urn. It looked and smelled like regular coffee, so she added sugar and skim milk to her cup.
“How did you sleep last night?” Naomi chose two fresh croissants with butter and jam and asked the waiter for a café au lait. “After our foot-soaks, I didn’t hear a peep out of you.”
“I was out as soon as my head hit the pillow. I couldn’t even keep my eyes open long enough to read more than a page. How ’bout you?”
“Same. I didn’t even manage to say my prayers,” Naomi said, straight-faced, and bit into her first croissant.
Stella burst out laughing. Naomi was many things, but not the praying-before-bed type. “The last time you prayed was when you thought the guy on your Napa vineyard tour knocked you up. When was that? Five years ago?” Stella chewed on a small chunk of pineapple.
Naomi shivered and grimaced. “Ugh, not one of my proudest moments. Let’s not talk about it.”
“So. What’re we doing today? You made it sound like a big secret last night.”
“Yup. Today, you have to follow my lead.”
“Okay...As long as you have more bath salts.”
“I sure do! And the first item on our list is taking the subway to…” Naomi paused for effect. “No, I’m not gonna tell you.”
“Then don’t. But is it safe to travel by subway in Paris?”
“As safe as in any other big city. Millions of people take it every day. Stop worrying.”
Less than an hour later they emerged from the dark tunnels of the subway system and stepped into the bright sunlight of the gorgeous Sunday morning.
“I don’t see many tourists. It looks as if it’s just locals walking their dogs and enjoying a cup of coffee.” Stella looked around while they walked toward tall buildings with a wide terrace between them.
“Not for long. The first tour buses will be here soon.” Naomi pulled her to a stop and said, “Close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Just do it. I promise you won’t regret it,” Naomi took her elbow. “I’ll guide you.”
After a few cautious shuffling steps, Naomi said, “Open your eyes!”
“Wow!” Despite the already hot day, Stella had goose bumps and rubbed her arms.
For the second time in two days, Paris lay at their feet. And right in front of them, the Eiffel Tower stretched high into the blue sky.
“It looks as if I can just reach out and touch it.”
When they reached the end of the open stone platform, she said, “But it’s much farther away than it seems at first. All the way on the other side of the Seine.”
“Yeah, it’s a good twenty- to thirty-minute walk from here,” Naomi confirmed, then pointed to the buildings around them. “Here’s a bit of background about where we are. We’re standing on the terrace of the Palais de Chaillot. The wings to our left and right are part of the palace too. The huge park between us and the Eiffel Tower is called the Trocadéro Gardens.”
“Why is the building called Palais de Chaillot, but the subway station and the park are called Trocadéro?”
“This used to be the site of a village called Chaillot. The hill of Chaillot was first arranged for the 1867 World’s Fair. For the 1878 World’s Fair, the Palais du Trocadéro was built as a concert hall and to hold meetings of international organizations.” Naomi took a breath and continued, “For the World’s Fair of 1937, the old Palais du Trocadéro was partly demolished and rebuilt, and the Palais de Chaillot now stands in its place.”
“Wasn’t the Eiffel Tower also built for the World’s Fair?”
“Yes, but for the 1889 Fair. I guess they loved their fairs in those days.”
“Interesting… When did you learn about all this?” Stella asked.
“Well, since I’m working in the travel business, I’m expected to know a few things. But everything I just recited with such eloquence,” Naomi smirked, “will be forgotten in a few days. My brain only retains this kind of information short term. But it sounded professional, didn’t it?”
“No doubt! Now let’s go through the pretty park and over to the other side of the river.”
Thirty minutes later, standing under the impressive iron structure of the Eiffel Tower, Stella gasped. “Look at the size of each of the four legs. The tower looked enormous when we were over there,” she pointed back to the Trocadéro, “but now I feel smaller than an ant. Are we going up?”
“I thought we’d skip it this weekend, because we had some grand views of the city
