Sweet Dandelion

“I want to see as much as I can while I’m here.”

“Let’s go up and I’ll show you the apartment. Ansel can come with us since he’s better with the language and getting around the city.”

“Ansel,” he grumbles as I start leading him toward the entrance to the building.

“Aw, don’t tell me you hate his guts. If you did, you wouldn’t have told him I was going to London.”

“Don’t remind me.” He looks around the lobby of the building, taking in the old world architecture. I love how nothing is new here. It’s timeless.

“How’s work?” I ask as we step onto the elevator.

“I love it,” he admits, trying to stifle his growing smile. “Working for a small, independent company is what I needed. I’m appreciated there.”

“I’m glad.”

The doors slide open and I lead him down the hall to the small but elegant apartment.

Ansel jumps up from the couch as soon as the door opens. “Hey, man.” He holds his hand out to my brother. Sage reluctantly takes it, giving it a shake.

“This place is … quaint,” he finally settles on, probably thinking about the fact that Ansel and I are near each other all the time.

If he only knew.

After a short tour, Ansel and I pull on our coats so we can head out into the city to show my brother around.

Sage looks like us on our first day, his mouth parted and his head on a constant swivel trying to take it all in.

I’ve learned it’s impossible. I discover something new every day that I’ve missed all the other days. That’s one of my favorite things about this city. It’s full of secrets.

“What did you think of the Eiffel Tower when you went?” Sage asks, staring at it off in the distance between the buildings.

“We actually haven’t been yet.”

His head swings to me in astonishment. “You’ve been in Paris for almost a month and you two haven’t gone to the Eiffel Tower? That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Ansel chuckles. “She’s saving it for some reason.”

“Why?” Sage’s brows draw together.

I give a small shrug, stuffing my hands in my coat pockets. “I don’t know, it’s dumb.”

“Come on, D, tell me.”

I bite my lip. “It’s … once we go, it feels kind of like the end.”

“The end?” Sage repeats.

“I told you it was dumb. I want to savor the experience.”

I was the same way in all the other cities we’ve stopped, saving the more iconic landmarks for one of the last things we did before leaving.

It’s worse this time and I think it’s because deep down, I know I won’t be going anywhere else.

Once I leave Paris I’m going home.

Sage lets it go, letting Ansel show him around the neighborhood. We end up catching a cab, heading into the heart of the city to show him more easily recognizable historic sites like the Notre Dame cathedral, currently undergoing repairs from the horrendous fire that damaged it, and drive by the Arc de Triomphe. The cab takes us by the Eiffel Tower, but Sage doesn’t ask to stop which I’m grateful for.

After touring for a few hours Sage admits he’s tired and asks to be dropped off at his hotel.