“Who’s saying we’re not doing that too? Let’s share one. They’re tiny. But we’re here, so I think we have to get one. It’s kind of a rule.”
“I’ve always appreciated that you’re a rule follower.” A few minutes later, he held a scoop of salted caramel in a paper cup, and we shared it with tiny spoons. “I am going to learn to cook,” I said. “I’m going to cook this when I get home.”
“I’m not sure you’re supposed to cook ice cream, but I’m happy to be your culinary guinea pig.”
“Well, then, I’ll buy a cookbook and figure out how to make everything we’ve eaten here, because it’s all amazing.”
“It is amazing,” he said, tossing our cup into a trash can and putting an arm around me. It felt right.
We continued our walk down the center of the island, browsing in the windows of a toy shop and a cheese vendor. I was glad Josh didn’t insist we load up on cheese and instead kept walking. It didn’t take long before we were on the Right Bank, making our way up Rue du Temple toward the Musée Picasso. Josh pointed out a crepe shop that he said had the best crepes in the city, and in fact, the caramelized sugary smell followed us for blocks, but I couldn’t fathom eating another bite. Ever.
“Okay, tour guide, what do I need to know about the Marais?”
“Well, I think it means ‘swamp,’ but other than that, my history knowledge is a little shaky. Sorry.”
“Oh, never fear. We have the magic of Wikipedia,” I said, taking out my phone and searching. “Okay, over that way is the Place des Vosges—we’ll go there later, because now you’ve got me focused on Picasso. And this way, we have the area known as the Temple for reasons I’m going to tell you in a second…”
I scrolled some more as I wandered and narrated our journey, not really looking where I was going. “So back in the twelfth century, the Knights Templar were fighting the Muslims on behalf of the Christians, who were understandably appreciative. That gave them the wealth to buy land here. So they turned this whole area into a garden to grow food crops. Then they built a giant fort and farmed the land.”
“Careful where you’re walking,” Josh said as I held my phone in front of my face. He lightly grabbed my elbow and pulled me out the way of a moped, which would have run me down. “Seriously, I don’t want to have to explain your untimely death.”
I realized I couldn’t read without meandering into the street, so I took a few more minutes, standing on a street corner like a tour guide, read him what I was discovering through the magic of Google. “The Templars got seriously wealthy over time, which eventually kind of pissed off the King of France. So he tried to bring about their downfall by spreading lies about them, which led to them going on trial. And more than fifty Templars were tortured and burned at the stake. All their possessions were seized by the throne.” I looked up at Josh, horrified at the story. I hadn’t expected it to end that way. “Geez, that’s awful.”
“Yeah, a lot of history is.”
“I think that’s what first swayed me toward the sciences. Plus a lot of kings named George and Louis who I could never keep straight.”
“You and me both,” Josh said.
The street we’d ambled down had landed us around the block from the Picasso Museum, as indicated by pointing signs. When we got to the front, I was surprised. It didn’t look like my concept of a museum. Then I recalled how the Rodin Museum was housed in a former hotel, or whatever Josh had said. That conversation felt like ages ago, but it had barely been twenty-four hours since I’d met up with him. I smiled to think about how much distance we’d traveled in such a short time.
“What’s up?” Josh asked. I must have looked like a lunatic, grinning at nothing, standing outside the gates of the museum.
“We’ve covered a lot of ground, you and me. Since yesterday.”
He interlaced his fingers with mine. “I liked the part where we weren’t walking. Is that what you were thinking? You should lie if you were gonna say something else. Spare my feelings. I bruise easily.”
I stood on my toes to kiss him. No further explanation needed.