juice.
After breakfast I got dressed, and while I was rummaging around in my bag, I realized that I hadn’t packed my favorite brown shoes. I hit my head lightly with the heel of my hand. Nice job, Char , I thought. Since I had a week’s worth of clothes to cram into one suitcase, I had repacked it several times to make it all fit. Even though I had my trusty checklist, I must have left my shoes on the floor back home at the last minute— no wonder everything had finally fit. I hoped I hadn’t forgotten anything else. I didn’t wantto come across as completely unstylish. After all, I was in one of the world’s most fashionable cities.
My sneakers would be fine for walking around Paris, but if the Morels took us out to a fancy dinner, well…I would stick out like a sore thumb. At least I didn’t have to worry about that right away. For now, I put on a pair of corduroy pants and a light, warm sweater. The brown shoes would have looked better with the outfit, but I had no choice. I grabbed my ski jacket and went to the living room.
“You plan on exercising this morning before we go to the school?” Madame asked with a twinkle in her eye as she nodded toward my running shoes.
“I accidentally left my nice shoes back at home. I know the sneakers and ski jacket scream ‘American,’ but they’re all I have.”
“There’s nothing wrong with your ensemble, Charlotte. If everyone looked the same, it would be terribly boring, n’est-ce pas —don’t you think?”
I nodded.
Madame smiled and stepped back. “But I’m sure we can find some other shoes for you to wear if you would like. Hmmm,” she said, looking at my feet. “Sophie wears a thirty-seven, and your feet look a little larger.”
European sizes are different from American sizes, but just from seeing Sophie’s shoe collection, I could tell that her feet were smaller.
“One moment.” Madame held up a finger. She retreated to her bedroom and shut the door. When Madame returned,she had a satisfied smile on her face. She had changed into tailored black pants, a cream-colored sweater, and black high-heels with pointy toes.
“After all, I was in one of the world’s most fashionable cities.”
~ pg. 68
“Come,” she said as she put on her gray wool coat and black scarf. “Bring your bag—we will do a few errands and then I will leave you at school. It is arranged.”
Madame Morel loved to “arrange” things—it was her passion. I was anxious to know exactly what Sophie’s mom had arranged for me, but I was too timid to ask.
I hurried to keep up with Madame Morel as she briskly clicked along the sidewalk to the métro station. After we had been walking for a few minutes, I got the weird feeling that I was being watched. When I looked over my shoulder, I saw a few people walking behind us. At first I thought my imagination was getting the better of me, but then a man in a black raincoat caught my attention. Almost immediately, he wheeled around and walked into a store. When I turned around again, I had to double my pace to catch up with Madame Morel. Her black heels made a sharp ringing sound on the metal steps as we descended into the station.
The métro wasn’t overcrowded at midmorning like it was during rush hour. We found two seats together toward the back of the train. I tried not to stare at the people around me, but I couldn’t help it. Sophie was right—it was easy to pick out the tourists by their cameras, maps, and casual clothing.
We emerged from the métro station in front of La Samaritaine—one of the largest department stores inParis—where Madame worked as a buyer in the baby clothing department.
“First…the shoes,” she said with a knowing smile.
“Huh?” I asked as Madame took off in quick, determined strides toward the shoe department. I ran a few steps to catch up with her.
“You are on vacation, Charlotte. It is a time for special treats, like new shoes,” Madame explained as she pulled two pairs of
After breakfast I got dressed, and while I was rummaging around in my bag, I realized that I hadn’t packed my favorite brown shoes. I hit my head lightly with the heel of my hand. Nice job, Char , I thought. Since I had a week’s worth of clothes to cram into one suitcase, I had repacked it several times to make it all fit. Even though I had my trusty checklist, I must have left my shoes on the floor back home at the last minute— no wonder everything had finally fit. I hoped I hadn’t forgotten anything else. I didn’t wantto come across as completely unstylish. After all, I was in one of the world’s most fashionable cities.
My sneakers would be fine for walking around Paris, but if the Morels took us out to a fancy dinner, well…I would stick out like a sore thumb. At least I didn’t have to worry about that right away. For now, I put on a pair of corduroy pants and a light, warm sweater. The brown shoes would have looked better with the outfit, but I had no choice. I grabbed my ski jacket and went to the living room.
“You plan on exercising this morning before we go to the school?” Madame asked with a twinkle in her eye as she nodded toward my running shoes.
“I accidentally left my nice shoes back at home. I know the sneakers and ski jacket scream ‘American,’ but they’re all I have.”
“There’s nothing wrong with your ensemble, Charlotte. If everyone looked the same, it would be terribly boring, n’est-ce pas —don’t you think?”
I nodded.
Madame smiled and stepped back. “But I’m sure we can find some other shoes for you to wear if you would like. Hmmm,” she said, looking at my feet. “Sophie wears a thirty-seven, and your feet look a little larger.”
European sizes are different from American sizes, but just from seeing Sophie’s shoe collection, I could tell that her feet were smaller.
“One moment.” Madame held up a finger. She retreated to her bedroom and shut the door. When Madame returned,she had a satisfied smile on her face. She had changed into tailored black pants, a cream-colored sweater, and black high-heels with pointy toes.
“After all, I was in one of the world’s most fashionable cities.”
~ pg. 68
“Come,” she said as she put on her gray wool coat and black scarf. “Bring your bag—we will do a few errands and then I will leave you at school. It is arranged.”
Madame Morel loved to “arrange” things—it was her passion. I was anxious to know exactly what Sophie’s mom had arranged for me, but I was too timid to ask.
I hurried to keep up with Madame Morel as she briskly clicked along the sidewalk to the métro station. After we had been walking for a few minutes, I got the weird feeling that I was being watched. When I looked over my shoulder, I saw a few people walking behind us. At first I thought my imagination was getting the better of me, but then a man in a black raincoat caught my attention. Almost immediately, he wheeled around and walked into a store. When I turned around again, I had to double my pace to catch up with Madame Morel. Her black heels made a sharp ringing sound on the metal steps as we descended into the station.
The métro wasn’t overcrowded at midmorning like it was during rush hour. We found two seats together toward the back of the train. I tried not to stare at the people around me, but I couldn’t help it. Sophie was right—it was easy to pick out the tourists by their cameras, maps, and casual clothing.
We emerged from the métro station in front of La Samaritaine—one of the largest department stores inParis—where Madame worked as a buyer in the baby clothing department.
“First…the shoes,” she said with a knowing smile.
“Huh?” I asked as Madame took off in quick, determined strides toward the shoe department. I ran a few steps to catch up with her.
“You are on vacation, Charlotte. It is a time for special treats, like new shoes,” Madame explained as she pulled two pairs of
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