Amused by Emmy’s comment, I followed Angela to the en-suite bathroom, enjoying the way her hips swayed as she walked. I’d missed this, and it was very, very good to be back with the two women I loved.
Angela was good at following Emmy’s instructions and did a very thorough job of bathing me, making sure to soap me up completely, then rinse me off carefully.
As much time as she spent on me, though, I found my attention drawn to her tummy, which was starting to show the first signs of a baby bump. I just couldn’t keep my hands off her belly, touching it, stroking it, and even getting down on my knees and kissing her slightly less flat than usual midriff.
Looking up at her from that vantage point, I said, “Our baby, Ange. It’s really happening. You’re going to have our baby.”
“Leah…” she replied, stroking my wet hair. “It really is happening.”
Wrapping my arms around Angela’s thighs, I held my face to her belly for a long time, lost in the wonder that it could actually be true. Our baby. Somehow it hadn’t seemed real up until this point, but actually seeing Angela’s washboard abs get pushed a little bit out by the tiny little person growing inside made it hit home that yes, our lives were about to change. We were going to be parents.
“I am so happy you’re here with Emmy and me,” Angela said at last, her voice tender. “We missed you so much.”
Angela and I found Emmy sitting on the bed when finished in the shower. “You two look nice and clean,” she said with a knowing smile.
I dropped my towel on the floor as I swooped in and knocked her on her back, pinning her down with my body as I kissed her hungrily. Emmy returned my kisses, pulling me down onto herself with her arms and legs.
“I missed you so much, my beautiful beast,” she said when our lips parted.
“I missed you, too. Three weeks is just too long,” I replied.
We kissed a bit more, but when I finally went to lift myself off, Emmy pulled me back down. “My mother and father want to take us to dinner tonight,” she said with another kiss. “I told them you may be too tired from the flight, so we do not have to do it if you do not wish to.”
“No, I’m fine,” I said. “I might not want to stay up super late tonight, but I’m good for dinner. Are we going to go to the place they took us last time?”
“I do not know, but I think it will be either there or someplace similar,” Emmy said.
“The last time Emmy and I came to Paris, years ago, her parents took us to the restaurant that was just what you imagine a fancy Parisian restaurant would be. Waiters in pristine uniforms, white linen tablecloths, the whole thing,” I explained to Angela as I successfully extricated myself from Emmy’s grasp.
Emmy scooted up on the bed to lean back against the headboard.
“Leah, I love you,” she said, changing the topic. “And I love you most of all when you are like this.”
Angela saw the puzzled look on my face and laughed. “Naked,” she explained.
“Yes, your… birthday suit? It is wonderful. You look fantastique in Armani or Levis, but you are truly amazing when you have no clothes on at all,” Emmy said.
“She’s right,” Angela said, nibbling on the corner of her lower lip. “I love it when you walk around naked, so… so confident and proud.”
Dinner that night was at a different restaurant than last time Emmy’s parents took us out. Last time it had been to a restaurant on the ground floor of a classic high-end hotel, but this time it was on the sixth floor overlooking the Seine and the side of Notre Dame.
The other place had had a tasting menu, but this one was a more traditional five-course meal.The food was fantastic, if a bit rich for my taste, but who am I to talk smack about a Michelin three star restaurant? The service was excellent, our waiter switching back and forth between English and French effortlessly.
Mr Lascaux had mentioned that the wine selection was unequaled, and he and the sommelier had a lengthy discussion, resulting in some truly excellent pairings with our dinner.
Angela and Emmy were radiant, dressed elegantly and carrying themselves with grace. I couldn’t help but stare at the two of them all dinner long, admiring them both.
I could hardly tell you what we all talked about that night, but I do remember that Emmy’s parents treated Angela with respect and kindness, like a true daughter-in-law.
I had been concerned that Emmy or Angela would mention our two little secrets, but neither did, and I certainly wasn’t going to do so- not until we got the test results back. For Angela, that would be soon. For Emmy, we had a while to go yet.
As enjoyable as dinner had been, there was no way I could eat that way on any sort of regular basis. Too much food, too much sauce, too much butter…. Yes, it was delicious and amazing and beautifully presented, but afterward I felt as if I should have only eaten half of what I did.
We were the first back to the suite that evening, even though dinner had taken quite a while. Jackson and his current girlfriend had gone out with Jen and Lee, and still weren’t back. This made for a nice, quiet return to the shared space, but we really didn’t spend any time in the suite’s large common area. We were headed straight to our bedroom to relax and recover.
Even though Angela and I had showered earlier that afternoon, we were both very willing to soak in the hotel’s big tub with Emmy before bed. After the water cooled down a little, that is.
Once I slid all the way in, Emmy turned around and straddled my lap, resting her arms on my shoulders.
“I will need to be at the venue all day tomorrow,” she said. “But there is no reason that you two need to be stuck there, too. You should do something fun. The weather this time of year is cold and wet, but there is no reason you cannot go to the Louvre, or go shopping.”
“I’ve never been to Paris before,” Angela said from the other end of the tub. “I want to walk around and see the Left Bank and eat crêpes by the Eiffel Tower. I want to see the Notre Dame. This is Paris!”
Emmy’s laugh sounded like bells. “You do not have to see everything tomorrow, ma chere. There is the day after, too, and another if you wish, before we go to London,” she said, looking back over her shoulder at Angela.
“Well, I did the tourist thing last time Emmy and I were here, Ange, so whatever you want to do, I’m happy to do it with you,” I said, reaching out for Angela’s hand.
“Do not forget- seven o’clock at the arena,” Emmy reminded us.
Angela scooted forward to sit right behind Emmy, kissing her on the shoulder. “We’ll miss you,” she said to Emmy.
“You have seen what it is like. I will be so busy tomorrow that keeping me company would be terrible for you two. Go, have fun, see my city. It is beautiful, even this time of year. The best part will be the lack of crowds. Few tourists come this time of year.”
After saying goodbye to Emmy the next morning, Angela and I set out for a walking tour. A few blocks to the Arc De Triomphe, then down the Champs Élysées
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“These are the same shops that can be found in any city,” she complained as we passed the H&M store.
I shrugged, and said, “Multinational corporations.”
“Yeah, I understand, but I thought it would be more… French, you know?”
“Hey, want to stop in the Starbucks? Or maybe grab a bite at the McDonalds?” I asked, pointing to the two places less than a block apart.
“You!” Angela said with a laugh, giving me a shove on my shoulder.
“Emmy showed me the street with the really high end boutiques last time,” I said. “I think we’re headed in the right direction, if you want to check it out.”
“Maybe? I don’t know,” Angela said, her expressive face showing her indecision. “I kind of do, but I don’t want to spend all day looking at clothes, either.”
“Like Emmy said, we have tomorrow, too. She’s the one you should go shopping with.”
“That’s true,” Angela said, a smile returning to her youthful face.
We crossed the bridge with the gold statues and soon found ourselves winding through the streets and the alleys of the university district.
“Look at that!” Angela cried, pointing in the window of a shop that seemed to specialize in pop culture stuff- comics, games, things like that. She dragged me across the street for a better look, and I saw what she’d spotted. It was a set of three bobble-head dolls that were caricatures of The Downfall. There was a little Lee, wearing a tank top and holding drumsticks, a little Jackson in a pearl snap shirt with a bass guitar, and a big-headed Emmy in a leather vest, her blue Thunderbird in her little hands.
“Those are precious!” Angela said, pulling her phone out to snap pictures.
“You want to buy ‘em?” I asked.
“I want them, but I don’t want to carry them or have them get smashed before getting home,” she said.
“I’d bet we can find ‘em back in LA,” I suggested.
“Probably so,” Angela agreed. “But there’s something special about buying them here.”
“Let’s get ‘em,” I said. “We’ll just have them shipped back home.”
Angela’s face lit up in a happy smile at the thought, rewarding me for saying the right thing. I loved seeing her smile like that.
Four years of French at Stanford did me reasonably well and although I would never pass as a local, I never saw the infamous Parisian snobbery towards those who spoke the language poorly. In fact, most people I ever interacted with seemed pleased that I, as a foreigner, put in the effort.
The shop had a large selection of comics, and I spotted some that looked familiar. I grabbed the few Asterix comics they had in French that were in hardback for Donny, thinking of the time we went to San Francisco together when we were freshmen.
Even though the weather was cold and occasionally drizzly Angela and I had a great time that day. We did eat crêpes, we did visit Notre Dame, and we did walk past the famous entryway to the Louvre (without going in).
It got dark by four thirty in the afternoon as we walked back to the hotel along the street with all fancy boutiques, but that was O.K. It made for better window-shopping.
“I think that maybe I won’t go shopping with Emmy tomorrow, unless she wants to go,” Angela said as we looked in the Hermés boutique windows. “We can always go to any of these boutiques in New York.”
“Or down on Rodeo Drive,” I agreed.
Angela and I got to the arena a bit early and thanks to our all-access passes we were soon backstage. We found the band’s dressing room with some help, where Emmy was taking a nap on the couch while Jackson and Lee were eating an early dinner. The only other person in the room was Tiny, sitting motionless in a chair by the door.
“Did you bump into Stephanie?” Jackson asked, his voice quiet. “She has your tickets for the Lascaux box.”
“No, we didn’t see her,” I replied, amazed at this bubble of calm and quiet amidst all the noise and activity going on outside.
“You should probably shoot her a text,” he suggested. “I know she wanted to talk to you.”
“How is she doing?” I asked. “This is the biggest tour she’s ever managed.”
“You wouldn’t know it,” Lee said. “She’s a freaking pro at this.”
“Honestly, it’s been so good working with her, it makes me regret the last five years of me doing it,” Jackson admitted.
“Dude, she kicks ass,” Lee agreed. “You shoulda seen it in Rome, when the local promoter tried to, shall we say, spontaneously increase his share of the proceeds. She was on him like you wouldn’t believe. I mean, she’s what, five foot two? But she, like, towered over that dude and made it very clear that his shit was not gonna fly.”
“I missed seeing it, but I heard about it from a few people,” Jackson said with a chuckle. “Some of the guys on the crew started calling her the pit bull.”
The mental image of Stephanie intimidating some Italian guy who probably had ties to the Mafia made me laugh, unfortunately waking Emmy up.
“Leah?” she asked, her voice drowsy.
“We’re here, babe,” I said as Angela sat on the edge of the couch and stroked Emmy’s face.
“You two have seats with my parents in their box,” Emmy said, sitting up. “I think that Stephanie has the tickets for you- she is around here somewhere. Did you two eat already? Help yourself to the catering- it is going to be a long night tonight. We will probably not get back to the hotel until well past midnight.”
“We had an early dinner, baby,” Angela told her. “And we got you a present.”
“A present for me?” Emmy asked, delighted. “What is it?”
“A surprise,” Angela said mischievously. “You’ll have to wait until you get back to the hotel.”
“But I want it now!” Emmy said, sticking out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout.
“Nope. You have to wait.”
“Do you see how cruel they are to me?” Emmy demanded of Lee and Jackson. “Heartless!”
“Utterly,” Jackson agreed in a deadpan voice.
“Completely,” Lee said in a similar monotone.
“Hey, where are Jen and…” I asked.
“Sherry,” Angela supplied.
“Right- Jen and Sherry?” I finished.
“They went out to check out the arena while Emmy slept,” Lee said.
“Maybe we should do that, too, to let you guys get ready,” I said.
“We aren’t going on for nearly two more hours,” Lee said with a shrug. “Nothing much for us to do until then.”
“Two hours?” I asked, surprised.
“Well, yeah, the opening act- who are they again, Em?” Lee asked.
“Los Toros,” she answered, standing up to stretch.
“I though they were from here- from Paris?” Lee asked, confused.
“I do not know why their name is in Spanish, but yes, they are from Paris,” Emmy confirmed.
“Anyways, the Spanish band from Paris takes the stage at five after eight, right? They get an hour, then ten minutes to clear their gear off the stage. So we’re scheduled to start at nine fifteen.”
“Makes sense,” I admitted.
“Yeah, so we really don’t start to even think about getting our shit together until halfway through the opening set,” Jackson agreed. “Besides, we know what we’re doing anyhow, right? We could pretty much roll out of bed and put on a show then and there.”
“Alright,” I said with a laugh. Then, to Angela, I said, “Hey, I’m gonna go find Stephanie. You want to stay here?”
Angela gave me a grateful smile, so I texted Stephanie to find out where she was and set out to explore.
I found her in the arena’s giant loading dock area with a clipboard in her hands, talking with the burly guys that do all the heavy work in a tour like this.
She was very involved in the conversation and didn’t realize I was there until she noticed a few of the guys looking curiously at me over her shoulder.
“Leah!” she said when she turned around and saw me standing there. “Hey, guys- this is Emmy’s wife, Leah Farmer. She’s the one that talked Emmy into starting a band back in college. Leah, these are the hardest working guys in show business. The ones that do all the hard work so it looks easy. Everybody thinks the band is the most important part of a tour, but naw, it’s these guys. Without them the band would just be standing around looking like idiots wondering where all their gear was.”
This got a chuckle and a knowing smile from most of the guys. It was easy to see what Stephanie meant, with a number of big trucks just waiting to be loaded up with everything needed for the next stop.
Stephanie caught me looking at the empty trucks and said, “This, right now? For the next what, three hours, this is when these guys get to catch their breath and take a break. The moment the Downfall leaves the stage? It’s all hands on deck. Everything you see up there?” she said, pointing in the general direction of where the stage might be. “It gets packed in these trucks and by dawn they’ll be halfway to Calais.”
“That’s gotta be a lot of work,” I said.
“It is,” the closest guy said. “But you know what? I wouldn’t trade this for anything.”
“Hey, I’m gonna be super busy all night,” Stephanie said, “But I really want to catch up. How about lunch tomorrow?”
“Sounds good,” I said, quietly admiring Stephanie’s drive and work ethic. She was on the job, and nothing was going to derail that.
I got the box tickets from her and promised her we’d connect in the morning, then wandered off to check out the concessions.
I snapped some pictures of the various T shirts and other merch for sale, briefly considering buying some until I realized that I could get whatever I wanted just by asking Stephanie for it, anyway, so why stand in line and pay money?
I was in the main concourse when some teenaged girls recognized me and approached. My French was good enough to have a conversation with them and admit that yes, I was Emmy’s wife, and yes, I’d come especially to see her perform in the city of her birth, and yes, I thought Paris was very beautiful. A couple of the girls actually wanted selfies with me, to my amusement. Of course I posed with them- after all, Emmy would have, right?
By this time the place was getting packed, so I barged my way backstage again to find Angela and take her to the skybox level to watch the show with Emmy’s parents. When I got to the dressing room Jen and Sherry were there, along with a couple of the guys from the meeting the day before. In fact, the room was fairly crowded, so I gave Emmy a kiss and told her to break a leg (or whatever it is musicians do), then left with Angela.
We found the skybox easily enough, and Mr and Mrs Lascaux were already there. I gave Edouard a nod, and he nodded back and gave me a little smile.
There were hors d’oeuvres to snack on and champagne to drink, befitting the luxurious seating area.
I was surprised how quiet it was- so much so that it must have been sound-proofed as much as possible, with speakers carrying what little outside noise made its way into the glassed-in room.
Emmy’s mother stood and gave Angela a double cheek kiss, then poured her some champagne while I shook hands with her husband.
Soon enough we were all seated again, just as the lights dimmed for Los Toros to start.