I emerged from Charles De Gaulle Airport lugging my largest suitcase behind me. It was stuffed to the gills; full of everything but the kitchen sink (although I can assure you that if the kitchen sink were a packable item I'm quite sure I would have given it a go - I got a bit carried away with the packing and wanted to take as many home comforts as possible. Sadly, kitchen sink not an option though). The ridiculously massive backpacker's knapsack that was upon my back was similarly stuffed and was so heavy that my arms kept turning a grey-ish blue shade as the shoulder straps dug so deeply into my flesh that they cut off my circulation. But you can't move to another country and travel light, can you? C'est juste pas possible.
Paris had made sure I received a warm welcome. She had chased away the clouds and the sun was shining directly upon me , making me sweat as I navigated my way out of the terminal building and through the crowds of business travellers and holidaymakers, to a grassy knoll (this word tickles me) highlighted by the sun.
Sitting down, I pulled out my book (Marian Keyes' "This Charming Man") and settled myself on the grass, mentally preparing myself for a good two hour wait before FP would be able to leave work and come pick me up.
I couldn't quite believe that I was here; that this day had finally arrived. FP and I were finally going to spend extended amounts of time together, not just a fortnight here and a long weekend there. And finally those emotional goodbyes at the airport were over. I was finally here. To stay. And just as a smile spread across my face thinking about this, I looked up and saw him walking towards me.
FP stood before me on the grass, his smile wide, my mouth agape (attractive!) (sarcasm) in surprise.
"What are you doing here, you're early!" I squealed.
"I came to take you home," he said, scooping me into his arms in one fell swoop.
We kissed and it was delicious.
"Home..." I mulled the word over for a moment or two.
"Tu es prête d'aller 'home', ma princesse?" My hands cupped his face, his jaw felt smooth against my fingers (he had shaved!) he gazed deep into my eyes and I felt the warmth of his familiar smile radiate throughout my body.
"Yes," I smiled up at him, "take me home, baby, I'm ready. Take me to our home..."
End of La Belle Saison Part One