8. Anne
Chapter 8
Anne
In an effort to not think about Alexandre, or the pastry school acceptance, I have decided to walk up and down the Champs-élysées today. I want to stand on the top of the Arc de Triomphe and see all of Paris. Alexandre said it’s one of the best views.
I look at my watch, noting the time difference and go ahead and text my mom to call me when she’s up. My bag is packed for a full day of exploring the city, and I intend to tire myself out so much that I will fall asleep the moment my head hits my pillow tonight.
No ugly crying in the shower like last night.
As I pass the Ladurée sweets shop, I immediately have to go in. In addition to chocolates, cakes, and other pastries, they have dozens of rows of colorful macarons. The worker is polite and helpful. My very limited French and her limited English gets the process done. In no time, I have a big box with a good mix of classic, seasonal, and unusual flavors. I had to get chocolate, pistachio, and lemon. But I couldn’t help myself and also got lime ginger, mango cardamom, and orange blossom.
I take my goods and head on my way to the Arc de Triomphe . During my walk, my mom calls me. I bite my lip, feeling the small jolt of pain. I’m not sure how much I want to share with her. Certainly not the romance bits but at least the pastry school acceptance.
“Is everything okay? Why the sudden call?” I pull the phone away from my ear. She’s so loud.
“Everything is fine. I wanted to tell you some good news.”
“Are you getting your old job back when you come home?”
“No, I told you I’m done with working in marketing. I want to bake and learn how to be a pastry chef. That’s what I’m calling about though. I applied to pastry school.”
“Where? In New York City? It’s not as good as going back to your well-paid and stable job, but I suppose you could still patch things up with your ex-husband and try again.”
“No, Mom. I applied to one here in Paris. And I got in!” I’m not even going to touch the topic of repairing the relationship with my ex-husband.
“You shouldn’t have wasted your time on that. Your family is here in Maine. Your sister is going to have a second kid; that’s what you should be focused on. Not learning to make croissants or whatnot.”
“I’m not her, Mom. We want different things in life.”
“You’re over thirty, Anne. You should be married, excelling in your career, and raising a family. I know it hurts or seems unfair, sweetheart, but it’s how the world works.”
“It’s not what I want though, Mom.” I can feel the tears building up again.
“Honey, you’ll be fine. Visit us when you’re back in Maine. I need to go. I’m meeting your sister for lunch. Love you.” She hangs up before I can even tell her I love her, too.
I’m not my sister. I’m my own person. With my own goals. I wanted my mom to be excited about the pastry school. To help me feel as if I’m on the right path. But she’s only added to the headache that’s coming from all of this.
I need advice from someone in the field. I want to talk to Alexandre, but I’m not ready. I text Violet and hope that she can offer me some guidance. I turn for the pathway along the Seine instead of heading to the Arc de Triomphe. Even if it is the best view of Paris, my mood would spoil it.
I find a shady place along the river and sit on a bench. There are an abundance of boats floating along. Some look like houseboats and others are full of sight-seeing tourists like myself. I start to eat the macarons. I try to only eat the ones I have doubles of, but I’ve already eaten seven when Violet calls me.
“How is the city of love treating you, my friend?”
“Everything is a mess and I don’t know what to do.” My voice cracks.
“Slow down Anne. What happened?”
I fill Violet in on my whirlwind romance with Alexandre and the application fiasco that’s happened over the past few days. It’s still hard to believe that so much has happened in such a short amount of time. Violet asks me a couple of questions and makes a few little sounds of acknowledgement before getting right to the point. Her straightforwardness is one of the things I love about her as a friend.
“Do you want to go to that pastry school? I know I bugged you about filling out the application.”
“Yes, I want to go. I think it’ll be a life-changing experience.”
“There you go! Decision made. Listen to your gut. Don’t listen to other people, even if they are your family, tell you about where you should be in life. Now tell me more about this stud of a Frenchman that has wooed our sweet Anne.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “I can’t get past the invasion of privacy. He took my application.”
“But it sounds as if he’s the one that got you in. There’s no way you’d be accepted that quickly if you had turned it in yourself.”
Dang, I didn’t think about that at all.
This is why I called Violet. Sometimes you need your friends.
“It doesn’t even matter. I’ll be home soon anyways.”
“And back in Paris in the fall for pastry school,” she drawls out. “It’s not every day that you have two amazing opportunities fall into your lap. One is pastry school and one is a chance at love. The bakery and all of us in Maine will be here for you, no matter what you decide.”
“Thanks, Violet. I really needed this chat. I’ll keep you in the loop.”
We hang up and I sit by the river a little while longer before I head back to my rental.
I’ve felt more confident and more like my old self while I’ve been in Paris. I have a lot to think about in regards to Alexandre, but I know that I’ll be returning here in the fall for the pastry program. I owe it to myself to give it a shot.
Alexandre
It’s been a few days since Anne left my place. I’ve dived right back into work. If I can’t spend time off with Anne then I might as well be back at the restaurant. The sounds of metal pots clanging and fellow kitchen workers shouting feels like home.
Fran?ois pulls me away from the back to take a short break outside before the major dinner rush.
“What happened between you and Anne? You’re back to working more than me.” He lights a cigarette and offers me one that I decline.
“I did exactly what you said not to do.”
Fran?ois groans before I can explain more. “Really, mate? If you thought it was love, why would you start off with secrecy and sneaking behind her back?”
“I didn’t even think about it that way.” I run my fingers through my hair and then check my phone for messages. “I thought I was being helpful, but what’s done is done. When do you need an answer for Spain?” I change the subject.
“Can you let me know next week?” Fran?ois puts his cigarette out and stretches his arms. “I’d like to start talking about the timeline for doing a soft opening and then a larger grand opening. We’ll need to finalize the regular menu. I already have the connections set up for fresh market fish and other goods to get delivered. I’d love to have you on board.”
“I can let you know next week,” I reply, unsure of what I want to do now.
Taking Anne around Paris was amazing. I loved seeing her enjoyment and wandering around the city together.
But what’s holding me here in Paris?
If I don’t go with Fran?ois to open his restaurant in Spain then I’d stay here and run Le Petit Poisson . Both options are great choices. I’m just a little uncertain.
I decide to text Anne to invite her to lunch.
I have nothing to lose if she says no.