Free Frankie in Paris by Shauna McGuiness Page B

he covered his heart with one
hand and put his other palm up, so that she could grab onto it.   Lifting   her to her feet, he studied her appreciatively.  
    “
Très
belle !”   he cried, kissing his
thumb and forefinger, which were pinched together.   He lead her in a circle, as if to show her to
the crowd, who continued to whistle and applaud.  
    Putting his arm around her back, he dipped her
like a ballroom dancer and planted a very loud kiss on her lips.       
    They looked like the cover of a fetish romance
novel. I wasn’t sure if I should slap him, tell him to go away, try to use my
gift to pull his hair, or scream.   I
couldn’t do any of those things, so I just stood there, stunned:   so did my grandmother.
    Then he walked away.   It felt almost as if he had never been there
at all.  
    We looked at each other, then sat down.   I turned my attention back to my dinner.  
    “Well,” Lulu managed.
    “Mmhmm,” I chewed and swallowed.  
    If cell phones with cameras had been common
then, there is no doubt that the whole episode would have ended up on the
Internet, faster than you could say, "YouTube."
    ***
    When we returned to our hotel, we discussed what
we would do the following day.   Lulu felt
that we should visit the Champs-Élysées.  
    I looked forward to shopping and having a nice
lunch, realizing that since arriving in Paris,
I had eaten:   bread, more bread, an
American hamburger, and a falafel.   Some
genuine French cuisine was in
order!  
    Sleep eluded me that night, and when I finally
drifted off, I had strange dreams.   I saw
myself in the fuzzy man’s arms, being dipped and kissed in front of the
crowd.   When he pulled me up, it was my
sweet Rich, and he wiggled his eyebrows at me.

Champs-Élysées

 
    What does one wear to shop on one of the most
famous streets in the world?   A street for which a song was written?       
    I guess there are lots of streets like that,
but this one was within reach, and I was going to walk on it.   And shop. I wanted to visit all the most
famous shops and act like I belonged there, even though I probably couldn’t
even afford to purchase a keychain at one of those places.
    When I woke the next morning, I knew that we
were going to have a fabulous day.   I
could just feel it.   Dressing head to toe
in black, I was ready: black “baby tee,” black strappy dress, and even black
tights.   I should have left the tights at
the hotel, but I wanted so badly to be chic.  
    Lacing up my boots and applying my lipstick,   I was ready to stroll.  
    I was prepared to be a super-tourist!
    ***
    Lulu had purchased tickets to the one of Paris’s most famous
musical reviews, The Lido , for that
evening.   The only thing I knew about the
show was that the women performed topless.   And I could not wait to see partially nude
women dancing onstage while sitting with my grandmother.   I was sure that it was going to be such a
comfortable experience.   Not.
    She dressed in one of her uniforms, and put on
the white flats.   Then she pulled out a
bag.   It sort of looked like a purse, I thought, but it was all flat and
squished from being in her suitcase.  
    “What,” I asked, “is that ?”
    “This is the purse that I’m going to use
today.”
    “Why are you switching to a different purse
today, Lulu?”
    “Because it is made out of alligator.”
    I wasn’t aware that it was “bring an alligator
bag to the Champs” day in Paris.   I needed to know more.   She must have understood because she
explained.
    “I bought this purse here many, many years ago.   It was a very expensive bag.   I wanted to see if they still had bags like
this one and how much they are selling for now.”
    Dumping out her current purse, she started
filling up the ancient, worn specimen.   Lipsticks, pens, keys, wallet, little snack bags from the airplane,
mints—loose mostly, having fallen out of the foil roll:   everything made the transfer.  
    The