Hidden in Paris by Corine Gantz

sign high, wriggling it pathetically and wailing “excuse me, excuse me.” Terrible humiliation ensued. Lola kept staring right above the sign. There she was, plump and barely over five-feet tall on her tiptoes right next to a goddess who
could not see her
! Finally, Annie practically shoved the sign in the woman’s face, cleared her throat. Her voice came out, high on helium, “Lola?”
    Lola looked down, the African gazelle to the aardvark, recognized her name on the sign. She looked at her through her impenetrable sunglasses. “Annie?” The crowd moved in slow motion. “Welcome to France!” Annie said in one hysterical breath, and the world resumed normal speed. “I was worried sick about you. What happened?”
    Lola took off her glasses. She had beautiful pale green eyes and looked like she had been crying. She bent down slightly to speak closer to Annie’s ear. “They held us up at immigration,” she whispered. “We looked suspect to them, I guess, a single mom with two kids. They were rude and...”
    Her little boy wailed “Mom, up me, up me!” He was pulling on her arm. She looked at Annie and her eyes filled with tears. “For a moment there, I thought they wanted to send us back. Then, suddenly, for no reason, they let us go. I don’t get it.”
    Annie was entirely confused by Lola’s vulnerability. “There is nothing to get, honey,” she said, patting Lola on the sleeve of her soft coat. “Welcome to the best France has to offer, starting with abuse of power and arbitrary decisions. You’re going to love it!”
    “Right now, all I am is terrified,” Lola whispered even lower. “I’m so thankful to see a friendly face.”
    “Me?” Annie said.
    Six feet tall women in cashmere have nothing to fear, she thought. But Lola did look terrified. “Your worries are over now,” Annie said, believing herself. “I’m going to take care of you and your adorable children.” She turned to Lola’s children and gave them a wide smile destined to convey warmth and motherly self-confidence. The girl’s face was scrunched up and closed and she did not make eye contact. The boy was hanging on to his mother’s coat with both hands now and looked like he was going to climb up the coat like a monkey. Lola lifted him into her arms and the boy buried his face in her neck. “I bet you can’t wait to get to your new home!” Annie said with all the jolliness she could muster.
    “Our vacation home,” Lola whispered and looked at Annie worriedly.
    “Your nice vacation home, of course,” Annie said. “Do you know I have a boy your age? I have three boys, in fact.”
    “I hate boys,” Lia shrugged, “They’re stupid.”
    “Not mine. They’re grade-A boys, I promise you that.” Annie took mental note to brief the boys about potential fires of hell if they acted out.
    Like the sighting of a buoy in the middle of a rough sea, Annie spotted Lucas cutting through the crowd and advancing toward them. When he saw Lola, Lucas opened his eyes wide and, for Annie’s benefit, simulated what seemed to be a miniature heart attack by covering his chest with both hands in a very French gesture signifying that he was love struck. He shook Lola’s hand, introduced himself and began to speak to her and the children in English without the slightest hesitation or intimidation, and Annie breathed an immense sigh of relief. Lucas was going to save her ass and make this whole thing possible.
    In the car, Annie decided she was going to pretend that she was fine. She wasn’t going to show anything to anyone, not even to Lucas. But she suspected Lucas knew all too well what was going through her brain, that old rascal. For one, she could not come up with anything clever to say and the van had fallen into an uncomfortable silence where all Annie could hear was the sound of her thoughts furiously galloping through her head. The van was beat up. A disgrace. There were crumbs and toys. Why had she not noticed before? Why