Page 30 of Daddy's Game

“I’m getting your suit all messy.”

“That’s what dry cleaning is for.” I dug a handkerchief out of my pocket and handed it to her. “Here.”

“Thank you.”

She cleaned herself up. By mutual unspoken agreement, the Louvre tour was over. We didn’t speak as we headed out to the waiting car.

Once inside, I looked over at Grace and put my hand on her knee.

“Have you ever been to the Eiffel Tower?”

“You know I haven’t,” she said.

“Do you want to go?”

She dabbed at the corners of her eyes with the cloth and then gave me a watery but genuine smile.

“Yes. I’d like that very much.”

I signaled to the driver to take us there. I decided then and there that if Grace needed something and it was in my power to give it to her, she would have it.

The center seemed like another lifetime while we strolled through the City of Lights, her arm in mine.

The Eiffel Tower only looks small at a distance. Once you get up close to it, you find out just how imposing the structure truly is.

I enjoyed watching the look of wonder spread over Grace’s face as we drew near. Once out of the car, she tilted her head back and stared with awe.

“If you think this is impressive, wait until you see the view from the top.”

She held my hand very tightly as we ascended the elevator. I glanced over at Grace and saw her bearing an anxious smile.

“Are you afraid?”

“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “But not about going up on the tower. I’ve never had a thing with heights.”

“Then what are you afraid of?’

She laughed helplessly, the last vestiges of red dying sunlight reflected in her eyes.

“I’m afraid to say what makes me afraid.”

I laughed at the irony. We stepped out onto the observation deck and she immediately went to cling on the safety rail.

“Wow,” she said simply, and given the view, there wasn’t much else to be said. I joined her at the rail. We looked down at the marvelous multi-colored tapestry that was Paris on the cusp of nightfall.

For a time neither of us said anything. I slipped my arm over her shoulders. Grace’s soft form leaned into me, her head on my shoulder.

“It’s more beautiful than I could have imagined.”

“Yes it is. Are you ready to tell me what’s got you so afraid?”

“You. You’ve got me afraid.”

“Me?” I couldn’t keep the incredulity out of my tone. “Why would you be afraid of me?”

“Look, Brock,” she said with a sigh. “I’ve had a great time these last couple of days. But, well... My past experience has me wanting to take it slow.”

“Past experience?”

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