Read A Summer in Paris for Free Online

woman motioned for her to sit down at the kitchen table and then brought her a plate full of food, Jennifer’s worst fears were realized.
    “This is a very nice goat cheese,” the woman explained, pointing to one of the oddly shaped, unappetizing items on the plate. “And this is pâté— you know, goose liver paste. Very special, but then again, you are our very special guest.”
    Well, at least I can eat the crackers, Jennifer was thinking. But Rose Cartier sat down at the table right opposite her, beaming and watching her as she poured her some tea from a chipped ceramic teapot.
    “Ah, let me show you,” she finally said, misinterpreting Jennifer’s reluctance to try the new foods as confusion. Patiently the older woman spread some of the cheese onto a cracker, then put some pâté on another. “Here, try this,” she said, holding it out toward Jennifer.
    Well, I guess it won’t kill me.... Jennifer reached for the crackers, so hungry that she decided that some food—any food—was better than none. If I can only get this down without choking.... I just hope that tea isn’t too hot to help me wash it down in a hurry.
    Nervously she bit into the cracker with the goat cheese. She was bracing herself for the worst. But much to her amazement, she found it was actually tasty. It was delicious, in fact.
    “Umm,” she said, gobbling down the rest of the cracker. “Madame Cartier, this is good!”
    And the pâté, she discovered, after tasting it with the same caution, was also excellent.
    “Ah, I am so glad you like it,” Madame Cartier said sincerely. She was all smiles as she continued to watch Jennifer eat. “You know, my husband and I have so been looking forward to your visit. It is very important to us that you have a good summer here. I know that we are not young people, and that our home is very simple....”
    “Uh, it’s fine. It’s very nice, in fact. Really.”
    Jennifer was astonished to find herself trying to allay the woman’s fears. Especially since, as far as she was concerned, she still planned to do everything she could to get herself out of this situation as fast as possible.
    “Well, please let Henri and I know if there is anything we can do to make your stay here more enjoyable,” Madame Cartier continued.
    Jennifer just nodded. She was too busy devouring the rest of the goat cheese and pâté to answer.
    * * * *
    “Jennifer? Is that really you?”
    Louise Johnson was beside herself with glee over answering the phone and finding herself talking to her daughter, some three thousand miles away. Jennifer, meanwhile, was relieved by her mother’s reaction. She had been away from home for only twenty-four hours, and she was afraid that her parents would be irritated by the fact that she was already calling home—collect, no less.
    “Hold on a second, Jen. Your father is going to pick up the extension—Paul, is that you?”
    “It’s me, honey. I’m on. Jennifer, how are you?”
    “I’ll bet you’re calling to tell us how fabulous Paris is,” her mother quickly interrupted. “Oh, sweetie, didn’t we tell you you’d love it? It’s a beautiful, wonderful city, easily the most romantic place in the entire—”
    “Mom, I really have to get out of here,” Jennifer announced. While she had intended to sound matter-of-fact, perhaps even angry, her voice instead came out sounding terrified. She was on the verge of tears. And sounding desperate, she knew, was no way to win her parents over.
    “Now, Jen,” her mother was saying consolingly, “what could be so terrible?”
    “It sounds like you’re just a little bit homesick,” Mr. Johnson added, chuckling.
    “You don’t understand!” Jennifer blurted out.
“It’s...it’s horrible! The family they’ve got me
staying with is just awful. They’re these two old
people, and they hardly speak a word of English.”
    “How wonderful!” Louise Johnson said. “By the time you come home in eight weeks, you’ll be speaking like