Fake Fiancée for Dad’s Best Friend by Gena Snow
Chapter 28
Vivian
It’s been six weeks since I moved to Paris. There are moments I think I’m dreaming, but other times, like when I’m in the metro station, I forget I’m in a different city.
I suppose the underground stations in all modern cities look alike because there isn’t any unique architectural structure to distinguish them. There are just the same platforms, trains, crowds, bright lights, and dirt. So, if I don’t pay attention to the French words printed on the signs and maps, or the amazing accordion music coming from somewhere in the station, I get a false sense I’m still in New York. People around me have different skin and hair colors and speak different languages: French, English, Spanish, Chinese, etc., just like back home.
It’s afternoon and I’m on my way home from school. The line isn’t busy. After I find myself a set, I put on my earphones. School is going well. Most of my classes are taught in English because most of the students are international. I’m thankful for that because although I’ve had two years of undergraduate French courses and watched lots of movies in French all my life, I’m not fluent in the language. I have little trouble understanding simple phrases in real-life conversations, but when it comes to express myself, I use the wrong word all the time. So far, I have not been able to order a meal in a restaurant without causing a minor confusion. The other day on campus, I asked a janitor where the librairie was, thinking it means library, but was pointed to the bookstore instead.
But other than that, I’m surviving and enjoying my new life in the most romantic city in the world. I’m learning so many new theories and perspectives in designing, not to mention the exposure to various fascinating cultures. I’m glad I chose to come here. The money is worth it.
But when I’m not busy doing schoolwork or exploring the city, I find myself missing Alex, especially when I lie in bed at night.
Alex and I texted and called each other every day during the first week I was here. I shared my experiences of adapting to my life here, and he informed me of the progress of Mike’s illness. Taking the doctor’s advice, he started radiation therapy shortly after visiting New York two months ago and is doing well.
Alex had wanted to come to see me the day after I had arrived here, saying I might need help setting things up. But I didn’t want to trouble him, and I told him he should spend more time with Mike instead. He took my advice and spent a week in Santa Barbara.
Remembering Alex always causes an overwhelming physical reaction in me. I miss everything about him: his thick biceps pillowing my head, and his strong thighs supporting mine, the rough texture of his abdominal muscles scraping my belly… I wonder who is sharing his bed? The thought creeps into my mind from time to time, despite my attempt to smother it.
My phone vibrates just when I feel a squeeze between my legs. It’s Cody, telling me he’s going to be in my apartment in an hour and we’ll do grocery shopping together.
“Great, I’m getting off the train now.”
The apartment Alex found me is another dream. It’s located in the heart of historical Paris, right by the Seine River, and has a view of the Louvre. I was shocked by the luxury when I entered the apartment the first time. There were so many marbles: the fireplace, the kitchen counter, the entire bathroom. The wall that faces the Seine is all windows, and they open to a narrow but long balcony. I’ve spent most of my free times gazing the scenery there. When I asked Alex how much the rent was, he wouldn’t tell me, and I was too afraid to guess.
The best part about the apartment is that they’ve remodeled it a few years back and added soundproofing walls, ceilings, and noise-cancellation windows. So it’s very quiet, at least comparing to Cody’s. The one he’s staying in now, built in the 19th century, has no sound insulation. He can hear upstairs neighbors walk or move chairs or even dropping a coin. And they talk very loudly and watch TV all night long. That’s why Cody has begged me to let him move in with me. But I have to refuse him because Alex wouldn’t agree to it. However, a few days ago, Cody convinced me to let him stay here for a few days because he’s looking for a different apartment.
Cody has been a help. Although I can get around the city with the subways and buses, grocery shopping without a car is still a pain. I normally stop by the grocery stores within a few blocks from my apartment, but Cody would take me to one of those super supermarkets, or hypermarkets, to shop once in a while.
I gobble down an egg sandwich for lunch and hurry out to wait for Cody. A minute later, his newest toy, a silver Peugeot, pulls over to the curb.
Today we’re visiting an E. Leclerc, the largest supermarket chain in France, on the outskirt of the city. It’s inside a shopping center and it’s enormous—more like Target, or even Costco. And it has so many choices that I can easily spend the entire afternoon inside.
We browse through the bread and cheese sections, which are both huge. Cody, who’s a chip freak, gets at least ten different flavors of potato chips, from cream cheese to peanut butter. My favorite spot is the chocolate aisle. There are so many varieties I doubt I could ever try all of them. After spending ten minutes in front of the impressive selection, I pick a bar with nuts and raisins, and then out of curiosity, another one with pepper and goat cheese.
Cody’s favorite spot is the wine section. Needless to say, it’s the main section of the store. Neither of us has any idea what is good, so we get help from the price tags. Cody always picks the expensive ones, and I go for the ones on sale.
“Are you going to be here for a while?” I ask Cody, knowing the answer is yes. “I’m gonna go find some vitamins at the pharmacy aisle.”
“Go ahead,” he says without looking up from the wine bottles.
After getting my vitamins, my eyes fall on a small box showing the picture of a tube. The label of the merchandise says Test de Grossesse. What the hell is it? It takes me a while to recall grossesse means pregnant because gross means big—a woman big with child. I smile at the realization because French sometimes makes so much more sense than English. How on earth is the English word “pregnant” connected to babies?
I’m racking my brain for the etymology of the word when something hits me. My period is late.
In fact, I haven’t had any since my arrival in the city six weeks ago. I’ve been vaguely aware of the fact, but been busy adjusting to my new life that I keep ignoring it. So now I’m at least a month late. This isn’t good, is it? Am I pregnant? No way. I didn’t think it was possible when I told Alex to skip the condom. I made the suggestion on the spur of the moment so I might’ve miscalculated the days.
I regret my impulse now. I have no doubt Alex will take care of the baby and me like he promised, but I don’t want to use my pregnancy to tie him down. I’ve gotten him into enough trouble already. Besides, what about school? I don’t want to quit it but Alex might want me to.
“Are you okay?” Cody’s voice startles me, and I drop the pregnancy kit back to the shelf.
“Yes, I am,” I say and begin to walk away, hoping he hasn’t noticed it.
“Pregnancy test. Why’re you checking that?” he asks, frowning.
Shit. He probably recognizes the test tubes. “I…err, nothing.”
“Have you been seeing someone?” he doesn’t let me off the hook.
“No!” I say. “I mean, not lately.”
“I knew it,” he says with a smirk. “You’re hiding something from me.”
I’m suddenly overwhelmed with shame. After all, Cody is a friend and he never hides his relationships from me.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “It’s just complicated, and I’m not proud of what I’ve done. But I’ll tell you soon, okay?”
He nods with concern in his eyes. “I hope the guy is worth it.”
I smile. “He’s okay. But it’s over.”
“You look sad,” he says. “Do you love him?”
“What?” I look around to see whether there are shoppers around. “I don’t want to talk about it now.”
“Okay.” He nods again, taking a box of the test and dropping it into the cart. “Tell me on our way home.”
