9. Only Buy What You Can Carry
9
ONLY BUY WHAT YOU CAN CARRY
Flea market day was one of Hanna’s favorites to organize in Paris.
Some of her favorite outfits, vintage dresses with flared skirts and shirts with wide collars, came from Le Marché aux Puces de Saint-Ouen.
When Mai asked Hanna where she got her camel colored high-waisted skirt and fitted white blouse, Hanna told her, which promptly sparked the group’s enthusiasm for visiting the famous market.
Noah was markedly less enthusiastic, but Hanna caught him hiding a grin as he watched the elderly women gush over what gems they might find while shopping.
It was also one of the few excursions where Madeline would join the group.
She loved hunting for the perfect trinkets for her numerous family members.
Hanna recalled a particular instance where Madeline and a merchant were engaged in a loud and heated argument over the price of a pocket watch–an exchange Hanna thought would result in one of them getting arrested or Madeline leaving without her prize–but the tenacious Frenchwoman had the final word.
With a flippant gesture, Madeline was turning to leave the stall when the vendor called out one last price.
Madeline pivoted immediately and briskly shook the merchant’s hand.
The iconic green-metal and glass roof of the Marché Dauphine reflected the shining sun, light winking back at visitors capturing images of the two-story building.
Navigating the grey cobblestones was tricky with hundreds of tourists streaming in and out of the building, stopping with no warning to look at an item that caught their eye in a stall.
Undeterred by the onslaught of sights around them, sparkling jewelry and fibrant fabrics fought for their attention, Hazel, Daphne, Mai, and Lillian charged into the market like generals leading a troop into battle.
They stopped at nearly every stall, browsing through the tightly packed displays of books, clothing, antiques, and art.
Hanna stepped in to converse with the merchants in French, giving them no room to think they could charge higher prices just because the older women sounded American.
She also had to step in–quite literally in the case of one pickpocket who hobbled away with a dent in his shoe from Hanna’s heel–to protect them from thieves.
A stall selling antique furniture was too narrow for Mai’s wheelchair to pass through, so Hanna waited with her in the breezeway, watching as the others picked up items to show them from the open entryway.
Madeline acted as their translator inside as Noah trailed behind them.
Hanna smothered a laugh when Noah picked up a metal shoe horn in the shape of a slug, the eye stalks bent to fit around the shoe and assist with pulling it off, and looked at the price tag.
His eyebrows shot to his hairline as he turned the slug over in his hand in befuddlement, critically examining it as if to discover some hidden detail that would validate the price.
“Are you having fun?” Mai turned to talk to Hanna.
Hanna did not need to polish her answer before replying.
“I am. Visiting the flea market is one of my favorite things in Paris.”
“I can see why. The energy of this place is incredible. All these objects with their stories and history intertwining with the rush of the present, connecting people together and giving new life to old things.” Mai watched a middle-aged couple walk past, holding hands and carrying a set of porcelain vases in their free hands.
“Maybe those vases were owned by nobility, or just a person who loved beautiful things, now getting a second chance to liven up a space and bring joy to a new household.”
Mai understood Hanna’s love of antiques perfectly.
It was the possibility of everyday items that captured her interest. Her own lack of possessions notwithstanding, Hanna loved the idea of a home filled with personal touches, mementos, and memories lining the walls and shelves, illustrating a life well lived and full of love.
“That is what drew me to flea markets in the first place, creating stories for the unique things that I find, imaging where they came from, who their family was, who loved them. I know it is silly to personify objects, but for a brief moment in time, they might hold a memory, transporting their owner back to a feeling or period of time in their life.”
Hanna gestured to her clothing.
“Maybe this dress was worn by a woman on her first day of college, or it was this dress she was wearing when she first met her spouse.” Hanna glanced away from Mai and landed on Noah.
He had his hand on Hazel’s back, leaning over to listen to what she was saying, but when he stood his eyes met Hanna’s and her breath caught in her lungs.
“Here, anything seems possible.”
“They become part of our stories,” Mai agreed.
“Why did you return that necklace you were admiring?”
At one of the shops selling jewelry, Hanna found a cameo necklace with a birdhouse etched into the cream shell set into a powder-blue background.
A halo of lace-patterned gold surrounded the pendant, the braided chain warming against her skin.
It reminded her of the wristwatch from her father.
Hanna shook her head.
“I move around too much to collect a lot of possessions. For me, just enjoying the experience of seeing beautiful things is enough.”
Mai looked at her with an expression Hanna had trouble placing.
It was not pity, but something closer to sympathy.
“That must be very difficult for you.”
“Oh, no, I am used to it. How many people get to say that they love their job? Not having a place of my own seems like a small price to pay for getting to travel the world.”
Even though her heart stung a little at the thought.
She had no regrets with her job, but lately Hanna felt a dull ache when a tour was over, the gap between tours bringing a sense of limbo when she had nowhere to go.
Hanna rationalized not owning a home or apartment as a way to save money for the business, but the utilitarian aspect of most of the hotels or shared apartments she rented when not living with Sarah were starting to feel…
empty.
“Something can be difficult and you can still love it. That’s life, dear. Take it from a woman who has lived long enough to make many, many mistakes. Loving your job is wonderful, and you are right that many people do not experience that, but if you do not have a life outside your work, that is not living. And when you have someone to share it with, even in a platonic sense, your joy is amplified. It does not have to be all at once, but maybe start with something small. Like a beautiful necklace, or a handsome man.”
Hanna did not know how to respond.
Had she been so immersed in her job that she started living her life for other people, stepping into their stories for the time she was with them, that she stopped living for herself?
Maybe it was time to open herself back up to the possibility of building a community around herself again.
Reveal more pieces of herself to others, like Sarah and Will, Noah and this group of women, and trust that they would still like her.
Mai let her suggestion sink in, observing the flow of people around them while Hanna processed her words.
Snippets of conversations flowed around them, some of them in languages Hanna knew, but they sounded discordant to her.
A sensation built in Hanna with a feeling she had not felt in a long time.
Lost.
She was confident in her ability to navigate practically anywhere around the world, but when it came to building a home?
There was no map or GPS to help her with that.
“All done?” Mai said to others as they approached, startling Hanna and pulling her attention back to their surroundings.
Hanna mentally chided herself for getting so lost in thought in a busy area.
“For now.” Daphne lifted her handful of bags.
“Give me a cup of coffee and one of those giant croissants with chocolate and I will be ready to keep going.”
Hanna reached for the bags, informing the group that she was going to store their purchases in the car while the others grabbed a bite to eat.
“I hope everything fits,” Hazel remarked.
“We still have so many shops to visit and I would hate for us to run out of room in the car.”
Reassuring her that they would find a way to transport all their purchases, Hanna took her time getting to the car and back.
She needed time to process what Mai said before she could put on the mask of tour guide again.
When the group finished for the day, Hanna and Madeline stood together, staring at the car.
Bags and boxes stacked on top of each other threatened to escape the confines of the trunk, and there were more bags sitting beside them on the curb.
Mai was settled comfortably in the car with the others, joking that they could start their own store with everything they purchased.
Hanna wished she was exaggerating.
Blowing air out of her mouth so that it ruffled her bangs, Madeline crossed her arms and frowned at the situation in front of them.
They were out of usable space if everyone was going to fit in the car.
Who even needed this much stuff?
“ I could drop them off at the hotel and then come back to pick up the rest?”
They were exchanging solutions in French so that none of her guests worried.
No one wanted to know how sausage was made, just that it tasted delicious.
“I would have to stay here, too. With my seat free, would that give us enough space to fit the rest of the bags? I could catch a taxi or take the metro.”
“It would help, but even with your seat, there still is not enough room. Besides, I do not like the idea of leaving you alone at night.”
Hanna rolled her eyes.
She used to live in this city and knew which places to avoid and how to keep safe.
Besides, the sun was still out, and she had a few hours before it set.
“Is everything okay?” Noah slid out of the car, walking over to join them.
Pushing aside her initial reaction to hide the problem from Noah, Hanna trusted that he would not overreact.
If anything, with each small problem that arose, Noah proved he did not hold it against Hanna, letting go of his belief that she wanted to steal his grandmother’s money.
“There is no way to fit everyone and the bags in the car,” Hanna said, pointing at the merchandise.
“Madeline could make two trips, but traffic at this time means that could take hours. I just offered to take the metro back to make more space for the bags, but Madeline said even that would not be enough.”
Glancing between the remaining bags and the car, Noah frowned.
Brows furrowed in thought, he rubbed a hand along his jaw before turning back towards Madeline.
“What if I went with Hanna? That would free up two seats and we could carry whatever bags did not fit. And I don’t like the idea of you travelling alone at night.” He directed the last statement at Hanna.
Madeline shot Hanna a look, switching back to French to quickly say, “He likes you. ”
Noah’s eyebrow twitched.
Hanna was glad that Noah did not speak French or else she would be more embarrassed than she already was.
Hanna hefted a few bags into her arms. “Might as well give it a try before we think of something else.”
The three of them filled the available space, tucking a few bags between each seat for good measure.
It was snug, but they got it all to fit.
“Do you mind if we walk back?” Noah asked as they watched the van pull away.
“It’s nice out and I’d rather enjoy the view on foot than stuck in traffic or crammed in a metro car.”
“It’s a long walk back,” Hanna warned.
“I would not want your feet to hurt.”
He glanced at her feet.
“I’ll be fine. Unless your feet hurt?”
Bumping against him playfully, Hanna scoffed.
“Me? I am used to it. At this point I am more surprised when my feet do not hurt.”
“Seriously?”
“A hazard of the job. You try walking as much as I do and see how your feet feel. I still prefer walking as much as I can though, it helps me familiarize myself with the city.”
They walked in companionable silence for a while, strolling through quiet neighborhoods and areas buzzing with activity.
With his long legs, Noah easily kept up with the quick pace Hanna set, an uncommon occurrence.
When they came across places she recognized, Hanna pointed them out to Noah, sharing a few of the stories from when she lived in the city.
Her purse started vibrating when they were walking along Pont Alexandre III bridge.
Hanna glanced at her phone, silencing it when she saw who it was.
The photo of her parents, taken when a tour to Greece coincided with their mission location, smiled at her before blinking away into a black screen.
Moments later, a notification pinged, and Hanna quickly scanned the message, shoving her phone back into her purse forcefully when she saw the attached job application.
To his credit, Noah did not pry when she let out an angry huff, giving her a sympathetic look.
Was this what unconditional support felt like?
Hanna was unfamiliar with the sensations it provoked.
She wanted to confide in him, give him a glimpse of the imperfect hurts and truths lurking behind the facade she projected to the world.
Could she trust him to take what she said and keep it safe?
There was only one way to find out.
“My mom just sent me another job application. Neither of my parents understand why I picked this career,” she said, feeling a bit like she was taking a step onto an invisible bridge over a canyon.
“They both work for a medical non-profit, providing aid to those most in need, and taught my siblings and me that giving back to the community is the highest priority. I was a surprise child. There is a ten year gap between me and the twins, Samuel and Nathaniel. Adriana and I are fourteen years apart. Considering that my mother is a doctor, you think they would have been more proactive with birth control.” Hanna’s joke sounded forced to her ears.
“They were happy when they found out they were pregnant, but I do not think they ever quite knew what to do with me. For the first few years, they were given special consideration for missions in the United States where they had family who could help take care of me while they worked, but once I was old enough, they began taking missions farther away. I cried for weeks the first time we moved, not knowing why I had to say goodbye to my friends and family no matter how much my parents tried to explain that people needed their help.”
Hanna’s oldest memories were of tents and medical facilities in remote areas.
Switching schools with each new town, and sometimes country, was too erratic and complicated, so her parents homeschooled her with the help of whatever colleagues had time or their own children to teach.
She remembered the boredom of sitting still, feeling out of place among her siblings.
“Looking back on it, they should have realized that I was different from my sister and brothers. They loved working alongside my parents, asking questions about medical conditions and treatment plans. My questions were always about the people. Where did they come from? What was their home like? Could we go visit? I lived in all these new, exciting places, but I never got to experience it. You know what I mean?”
Beside her, Noah hummed in agreement.
“Because my siblings were older, and my parents were so busy, they were often expected to take care of me. You can imagine how well that went over. No teenager wants to take care of their baby sister. We had nothing in common.”
“I can imagine. Are you close with them now?”
“Not particularly, but out of the three of them I stay in contact with my sister, Adriana, the most. She’s the only stationary one out of the bunch. She got tired of moving around our whole lives and stayed in New York after finishing college. Adriana and her wife, Cal, adopted a little girl, Nina. She just learned to read and loves getting postcards from around the world, so I try to write to her as often as I can. Makes me think that I can pull off being the ‘cool’ aunt.” Hanna gave a self-deprecating laugh.
“Eh, with how much you geeked out over how many replicas of the Eiffel Tower there are in the world, I don’t see you winning any awards for how cool you are,” Noah teased while bumping his shoulder against hers.
“Wow. Thanks for your vote of confidence. If I remember correctly–” Hanna bumped him back “–you were pretty excited over that fact yourself.”
The moment of levity dissipated some of the tension that was tightening in Hanna’s chest. She felt close to Noah, like they were connecting on a level where he truly understood where she was coming from.
Like he felt the same loneliness creep in and dull happy moments with its gloom, sewing seeds of doubt that even if you tried to let people get close to you, they would still leave you.
“I do not resent her for not wanting to hang out with me when we were kids, but sometimes I wonder if we would have been better friends if we were closer in age. Nathaniel and Sam were always together, like two sides of a magnet. By the time I was old enough to be interesting, they were getting ready for college. Then it was just me and my parents. Any friends I made were temporary, we moved every year or so, which made it difficult to get close enough to anyone. Because I was a minor, we were always sent on missions to safer areas of the world, which meant I was usually so close to all the places I wanted to explore, but with no way to get there on my own, I felt…”
“Trapped?” Noah supplied.
“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, we helped a lot of people and I ended up with a more robust education than most people my age.”
Noah shook his head, his sunglasses hiding his expression.
“Just because you wish that things were different does not make you ungrateful. You were a child who could not control the experiences you were thrust into, and as an adult you have to process the impact it had on you. Acknowledging the bad that comes with the good does not mean you are selfish, it means you are human.”
His words settled into Hanna’s skin, sinking down into her bloodstream to flow into unhealed cuts and bruises.
Was she holding onto unnecessary blame, judging herself harshly for having mixed emotions about her past?
“I thought it was in poor taste to complain about volunteering.”
“You were a teenager. Of course, you were going to complain about it.”
Mirth bubbled up inside her, bursting out in a peel of laughter.
“The first time I asked for money to take the train into the city with some of the other girls from the town, I thought my parents were going to ground me. Asking for money for doing the chores that were supposed to be volunteer hours felt so wrong.”
“And did they?”
“No, but I did get a lecture on the importance of giving back. Since I technically could not get paid from the organization, my parents established a system where some of my volunteer hours counted towards an allowance. I think that they thought if they let me explore with other kids my age, it would slake my desire to see the world. Like it was a passing interest before I settled back into valuable work.”
As if a cloud were passing in front of the sun, Hanna’s good mood vanished at the reminder of her parent’s opinion on her career.
“Little did they know that once I started seeing the world, all I wanted was to see more. I saved so that I could visit new places as often as I could, leaving on the first train and returning on the last. When I was in secondary school, I would go with classmates, sometimes for school trips, but mostly for fun. It was on one of those trips that I ran into the tour guide who ultimately introduced me to Stephanie. My parents thought it was just a summer job, but when I told them that I was deferring going to university, they tried to change my mind. They even got Adriana and the twins involved, calling out of the blue to wax poetic on the value of university and the doors it would open for me. But my mind was made up. When my parents left for their next mission, I stayed in Europe and started working full time for Stephanie.”
Beside her, Noah paused along the walkway.
Hanna turned and went towards him, heart dropping at the sight of the frown on his face.
So, she had found the line that marked the boundary of how much of her real personality Noah wanted to see.
Now that he heard her story and listened to her failures, he found her lacking.
She never went to university, not like Noah had, and had two parents who wanted what was best for her, nothing worth complaining about.
He must think that she was so unappreciative of her life.
Hanna fixed a bright smile on her face and started to open her mouth to give a blasé remark to course correct the conversation.
“That must have been difficult for you, wanting to pursue something that was at odds with what your family thought was best for you,” Noah said solemnly.
“Choosing to forge your own path when it would have been easier to go along with what they wanted. That takes courage and conviction, far more than I had at that age.”
Hanna’s heart skipped a beat, thudding back to life as Noah’s words penetrated.
Her smile fell from her face in awe, eyes wide to take all of him in.
Was it really that easy?
That he could look at the exposed and wounded parts of her and value them just as much as the happy, easygoing parts?
She wanted to offer Noah more pieces of herself, see if he would hold onto them while she worked on welding them back together.
Not fixing her, but giving her the unconditional support to heal herself.
“It wasn’t easy,” Hanna admitted, taking a step closer to him.
Around them, tourists snapped photos and walked past them, rushing like the river beneath the bridge.
Noah paid them no mind, angling his taller frame to protect Hanna from getting jostled.
“And now you run your own business.” Noah’s sentence hung in the space between them, the unasked question like an echo.
Does your family understand now?
“They still think that I am playing around, wasting my time trotting around the globe when I could have a worthwhile career. Something to be proud of, something that gives back. No matter how many times I explain that I am happy and have enough to take care of myself, not that wealth equals success,” she was quick to add, “but it's never enough for them.”
Hanna took a ragged breath, tipping her head up to the sky to keep the tears at bay. “ I am never enough.”
Eyes closed so that she could not see the pitying look that was surely on Noah’s face, a shadow darkened the back of her eyelids and Hanna felt a presence move closer to her.
“Hanna.” Noah’s breath fanned over her cheek, one warm finger trailing along her jaw to draw her attention. “Look at me.”
She blinked slowly, focusing on the startling blue of his gaze behind his glasses. This close, she could faintly see flecks of darker blue and gold highlighting the lighter tones.
“Whether you fit into their mold of what you should or should not be. You. Are. Enough. If they cannot see that, then that is a flaw in them, not you. Anyone who spends even five minutes with you can see what a gift you have. You’ve shown me that this job is more than just trip planning. You take away the stress and headache of planning and replace it with relaxation and pleasure, and do it so seamlessly that people forget their worries and burdens for a few days. You find what people love, what makes them unique, and somehow give them an experience tailored specifically to them. That is something very few people can do and you should be proud of it.”
Hanna’s heart cracked, not in the way caused by heartbreak, but in a way that broke away the damaged parts, creating paths for her fragile edges to knit back together. Hearing Noah validate her choices and earnestly praise her healed something in Hanna that she did not know was injured. From her time with him, Hanna knew that Noah did not give out praise thoughtlessly. He meant every word he said, carefully considering each one before he gave it voice. Noah saw her, past the perfect facade to the insecure parts she tried to hide, and instead of feeling scared, Hanna felt safe. Valued not just for what she had to offer others, but for herself.
Words caught in her throat, fading away before she could get them out. Staring at her reflection in Noah’s sunglasses, Hanna reached up to push them on top of his head. She needed to see him, to peer into his soul and know that she was not alone in feeling this way. His gaze was unwavering, opening himself up to her so Hanna could see the truth behind his words.
Her fingers lingered by his brow, grazing the strands of his hair as they waved on the breeze.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Noah’s gaze softened in understanding, as if he knew exactly how much his words meant to her. Wordlessly, Noah brought his hands up to capture hers, frowning when he felt how cold they were. Bringing them to his mouth, Noah breathed warm air against her cool skin before lowering them to her side.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you back to the hotel before you turn into a popsicle.”
Hanna laughed at the idea, turning to walk alongside Noah once more. With the memory of Noah’s words and touch warming her, Hanna thought she would never be cold again.