The week passed quickly but without a peep from "Low", e-mail or otherwise. I wasn't too concerned, it was a busy week for me and my mind was occupied elsewhere. Yet I couldn't help hoping he would return for the weekend as planned, he was such fun to be with! In my quiet moments late at night in bed, I pictured his boyish smile and beautiful blue eyes. I wondered exactly what the project was he was working on so diligently in London - being the picture of discretion he wasn't offering any details - and I wasn't pushing. As long as it was legal, I really didn't care! By thursday however, I thought I would have heard from him. Was this a case of "he just isn't that into me"? Having been married all of my adult life, I was still navigating the treacherous waters of dating and trying to figure out how to use my compass. I was on the metro saturday morning when my phone rang. I am always amazed how parisians can carry on long phone conversations in the trains. Between the noise of the wheels as they scream down the tracks, the heavy metal doors slamming open and closed at each stop, and the gypsies torturing you with their violins accompanied by a pre-recorded rythym section, I don't know how they can hear a thing! I certainly can't, and this time was no exception. I caught a few words; "Hi", "sorry-busy week", something about tickets, and "Paris". Was he in Paris? It wasn't clear if he was able to get tickets to the show he had invited me to or not, or if he was even coming into town. "I'm sorry cherie, I can't hear you. I'm in the train! Are you in Paris?" Just then the call was dropped. Merde! The train pulled up to the next stop and I got off. I knew he would call back and it would be easier to hear on the platform as there were few people around. Sure enough, he redialed and I got the scoop - he wanted to know if I was still interested in seeing a matinée on sunday. He was still in London and would take the "Chunnel" first thing in the morning if I was. "After the show, maybe we could find someplace fabulous to eat and share a good bottle of wine?" he offered. "That sounds nice" I agreed, and we hammered out the details of our rendez vous. "See you tomorrow!" we said simultaneously, and with a chuckle we rang off. I was a happy camper as I boarded the next train and continued toward my destination. Low was as good as his word and making an effort to come back to Paris to take me out! I had always wanted to see the show he was taking me to, it was a ground breaking production that had earned Tony awards, praised by critics and audiences alike. And I was glad to be going with him. But there was quite a surprise in store for me the next day, and you could have knocked me over with a feather! Join me next friday for a little theatre and a big revelation!
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