Luke and Jeanine looked to passing observers like a couple. They stood facing each other a little over a foot apart. They leaned their upper bodies closer and closer with every repartee. Then, he broke off and started a kind of jog backwards away from her toward the Tower.

He exclaimed, “That. Sounds. Great.” He was already jogging toward the crowd at the base of the Tower. “So, join me to get a closer look at that monstrosity really quick.”

She’d stepped on the heal of one sandaled foot with the other in her effort to catch up with him. She looked around to see if anyone saw. He was smiling with a little more mirth indicating he saw it.

He continued when she caught up, “After we eat, we’ll check out the churches. I believe some of which have been standing forever with current architects unable to explain why.” He studied her stride, watched her approach. She wasn’t limping but had this languorous gate of harnessed energy.

She hoped her own sandals’ flimsy straps didn’t break. “We? Really? Churches?” The last question came out more breathless than inquiring. They’d slowed beneath what could be the center beneath the structure. She bent her head back to examine the sculpture’s geomethric webbing so far that her hair draped to cover her rear.

“Yeah, I like churches; plural.” He took a breath. He could’ve been buying time, contemplating his options, but he just said, “I haven’t visited any yet. Did you have an order?”

“Yeah, a geographic order.” She continued her spinning perusal, but slowed so the phone in her hand could catch her view. “ That is how I marked my route on the map.” She handed it to him with a free hand.

“Why churches?” He gazed took in all the nearest attractions, the l'île de la Cité, the island that had housed the famous Notre Dame.

“I’m writing a paper for independent study credit on women’s rights and identity as women. Gaul culture, from pre-Roman influence, and the Catholic Church is going to have a heavy hand in that. Side note: If I say The Church in my rambling, I’m referring to the Roman Catholic Church. Anyway, I wanted to check out some of the iconography and talk with some of the priests or guides in order to gain a better understanding of the current position in The Church’s subculture regarding the war of the sexes. They might drop some names of some other people who’ve done research that I can mine for information and avoid duplicating.” She’d begun to move around in different directions to get her pictures which also included some of the famed architecture surrounding the area. “I, also, saw a documentary outlining the lives of the Gauls and Celts. I wondered if that had anything to do with the evolution of women’s rights here, in French subculture.”

“So you’re a student.” He observed. However, sarcasm dripped from his inner voice’s comment, brilliant deduction. Luke cleared his throat and scavanged through his memories to add some information she might enjoy, “You know, Maine has a lot of French neighborhoods, old French, so there are distinctive behavioral differences in those neighborhoods in contrast to some of the older southern cultural centers. Those events might have effected the perspective of women’s rights and responsibilities in Maine’s communities.”

She put away the camera. She nodded at him, seeing he was studying her map, she took photos of some people photogenically picnicking near some flowering shrubbery, children jumping around a small display.

When he started folding the paper, she squared herself with him. He handed her the paper and they headed toward the café. They walked in silence most of the distance back. Their strides began to match as her inner voice went over possible conversation topics. “So, you’re just a tourist on vacation with some guys?” She took a picture of the sign that had been moved and no longer obstructed the sidewalk.

“And girls,” he paused. “There’s Angel and Marcus; been together since high school. But I think Wick’s girlfriend, Wynnona, is our travel agent that organized this meh- trip.” He smirked and muttered to himself, “Judd’ll take us to the Caribbean next time.” He wondered what Jeanine would look like in a bathing suit.

“Judd?” She looked at him as they approached the café with the pedestrian hazard of a sign. Judd was a distinctive name and Jeanine just had to ask about the guy that would have it.

He looked both puzzled and surprised at her question. “Did I say that part out loud?” He paused then asked with stress on his face and in his voice, “What about the bathing suit comment?” He stumbled over the sign he’d slickly navigated her around on their way toward the Eiffel Tower.

“Yeah and uh… no,” That didn’t turn out to be a conversation starter as the silence hinted at becoming a barrier, “So you’re okay with a little academic adventure?”

He said, “yes,” and judging the moment ripe he added, “if you’re interested in going to a club later.” He held out a hand for her to step into the café’s chained off section of the sidewalk ahead of him. He sat at the table she selected along the outside of the building and away from the chain.

“Later, this week, maybe.” She tried to smile at him, “I’m sorry. I’m not committing to anything right now. Our friends may talk us into other activities.” From behind the menu, she said, “Let’s just enjoy right now, right now.”

She placed her phone next to her plate and sat sideways with her back leaning against the wall instead of the chair’s back. Before he could ask why she would need it near, it rang with a song from the early 60s. Her ivory skin tone paled, leached of color. Luke found no pleasure in any way when he watched her look at her phone. He didn’t catch the name before she moved the call to voice mail. “Wasn’t that from Dirty Dancing?” He asked carefully.

Her jaw dropped slightly. This guy knew an 80s chick flick? And it was the perfect distraction from the complicated miasma of dumping a friend which was directly linked to that phone call.

Recognizing surprised disbelief for what it was and happy he’d removed the horror filled expression related to the phone call, he explained, “I have a sister, a mother, and a grandmother. It’s, it was their bonding girls’ night movie. Before I was old enough to skip out, I had to watch it with them. And Shannon, my sister, had the sound track. I believe that is track 13 “Do You Love Me” by the ...”

“I don’t know which track it is but it’s a song by the Contours on the “More Dirty Dancing” soundtrack. I choreographed a number in high school to it.” She carefully folded the napkin before she put it in her lap. “I was 12, I think.” Going back to her list of things about which to talk, she cut off any questions that might be on the tip of his tongue, “So, tell me about Shannon, Wick and the travel agent. Oh, and don’t leave out Angel and Marcus.” Then, she had no trouble focusing on his lush lips as he answered.