The Charles De Gaulle Arrivals area was different than how Neela had remembered it.

A year and a half ago it had temporarily held the rank as her favourite place in the world, and how could it not? As functional and suburban as it was, it had been her first official glimpse of Paris, on her fated and misunderstood (by her parents) journey of self-discovery. She'd been wide-eyed and full of hope on that first day, and it just didn't get more romanticized than that.

Now though, she wasn't interpreting her surroundings through the lens of an excited newcomer. Now she was interpreting it with her actual human eyes, and for all its reputation as the most glamourous, beautiful city in the world, Paris's biggest airport was ugly as fuck.

It was the place where the colour orange went to die.

Along with dreams.

And humanity.

The nineteen-seventies aesthetic was only eclipsed in grossness by the lack of air conditioning on a hot summer's day, resulting in a sheen of sweat on the tired faces of the travelers who'd completed their various long journeys.

Neela had only just arrived to pick up her family but she was already sweating too. Her sweat was of the nervous variety, brought on by the impending doom of seeing her family in the flesh. Any minute now they would be out here, and while of course she loved them and had missed them in certain ways, she knew what to expect in that initial moment of their arrival in a foreign country; the frowns, the bickering, the confusion...she'd been avoiding this moment with every fiber of her being, but the time had now nearly run out.

And just like that, the final second of hiding was over.

There they were, the Bhandar family in all their awkward glory.

First it was her sister Maneet who emerged, dragging along her screaming 5-year-old daughter Sonya. Maneet's husband Gurinder followed close behind, pushing a cart stacked way too high with luggage. A second later a carry-on suitcase fell off his overstuffed cart, and an elderly man almost tripped right over it. He cursed at Gurinder in what seemed to be Italian, Gurinder all the while smiling apologetically as he retrieved the luggage.

"Oh boy," Neela muttered, cringing at the sound of the vitriol spewing forth from the aggrieved old man.

The only thing that managed to shift her focus from the disaster was the sight of her parents who emerged behind Gurinder.

Mom and Dad in all their glory, already arguing about who knows what.

Neela allowed herself one big sigh before approaching with a look of manufactured joy. "Hey everybody!" she exclaimed.

Not a single one of them officially smiled back, but they were extremely pleased to see her on the inside. At least that's what Neela told herself, before inadvertently smirking.

She shared a hug with Mom to kick things off. Mom was a short sixty-something woman who commanded a presence on par with the rightful heir to the Iron Throne of Westeros.

As for the embrace? The hug they shared was on par with two pieces of plywood attempting to connect on a physical level. The plywood vibe wasn't the result of anything malicious, it was simply the way it had always been. The Bhandars, you see, were not a family of huggers, or of any displays of outward affection for that matter. When Neela had once told her friends in Toronto that the last time she'd hugged her sister had been when she was four years old, they'd looked at her with something bordering on pity. Somehow though she hadn't even felt bad about it; Bhandars don't do squeezy hugs.

Dad came next, and he was at least effusive enough to offer up a pat on the shoulder to go with his modified hug; it made Neela smile.

She turned and now found herself staring at Maneet, the nemesis of her entire up-bringing. In a single stare, all the grievances of their childhood played out in a super speedy slide show. "Hey," Neela offered with a stone-faced expression.

Maneet nodded in acknowledgement. "Hey."

Gurinder gave Neela a captain's salute (weird), which only left Neela's niece Sonya, for whom Neela had all the genuine affection in the world. She grinned. "How's my little muffin pie?"

To Neela's surprise, Sonya offering nothing. She switched gears by extending her arms. "Gimme a hug! I missed you!"

Sonya looked at her strangely for less than two seconds, before running away and hiding behind Gurinder's legs.

Neela frowned. "When did she become all shy?"

Maneet's judgiest eyebrow elevated into outer space. "Well maybe if you were actually around more often..."

It was a low blow, but could Neela really blame her? In a year and a half, Neela had only visited home on Christmas and Easter, two holidays the Bhandar family ironically celebrated (without the actual deep dive into Jesus).

"Why is it so hot in here?" Mom said frowning, the same frown that had existed since the universe's official big bang.

Neela shrugged. "Paris doesn't have a lot of air conditioning. Not on subways, not in buses, not in stores..." she noticed the horror growing on their faces. "But your AirBnb has a fan!" She topped off the exciting news with a grin, but that didn't seem to lessen the death stare shooting from Maneet's eyes.

"A fan?" Maneet clenched her fists. "What is this, nineteen-thirty-two?"

"Nope, just part of the charm," she answered casually, wanting this conversation to end as soon as possible.

She gestured to the sliding doors, offering up the magical possibilities on the other side. "Are you ready to see the real Paris?"

***

As it turned out, the real Paris thus far was no more than a chaotic taxi queue, where rando–and sometimes creepy—men accosted them and other tourists with 'amazing offers' for rides at the 'best prices.' Mmmkay.

A taxi van eventually pulled up to the curb. The driver emerged and Neela took the lead in discussing the rate in French.

"What is he saying?" Dad said, butting his way in.

Neela waved him away. "It's fine, Dad."

"Are you paying too much?" he went on, having zero faith in Neela's negotiating skills as a fully functioning adult who knew Paris inside out. "I can get you a better price," he added, "let me talk to him and you can translate."

Neela stared at Dad. Hard. She was ready to cast off Dad to the ends of the earth. But instead she smiled.

"It's actually okay," she said assuredly. "He's agreed to only charge me twenty euros."

The bold-faced lie was enough to get them into the van and out on the road.

The cobblestoned road to Hell.

***

Dense traffic circled the famed landmark known as the Arc de Triomphe.

At its center, Neela and the family took turns snapping photos so stiff they would be instantly approved as part of a passport application.

After the final photo was taken, Sonya ran off and spun in circles like a dog chasing its tail.

She finally stopped to catch a whiny breath. "I'm hungryyyyy!"

Neela chased her down before she got any ideas about running into traffic. "You're hungry huh?" Sonya nodded. "Do you want me to get you some delicious food?" Sonya smiled, and it was exactly the adorable expression that Neela had been missing. Even if it was based on a bribe.

Neela glanced over at Maneet. "Let's go to a café where it's not as crowded."

That single French word made Dad scrunch his nose. "Café? I don't want coffee. It's lunchtime."

Neela's smile was patronizing but she couldn't help it; French culture was rubbing off on her. "A café in France doesn't only mean a coffee shop. They serve all kinds of food; you could have a club sandwich if you want." She noticed Mom scrunched her nose and scrambled to brainstorm something else. "Or how about a Croque Madame? It's like this cheesy sandwich thing!" She looked down at Sonya. "Would you like that?"

Sonya seemed unable to make the grilled cheese connection; she stared at her blankly.

"Okay..." Neela said, increasingly desperate now, "I mean there's lots of other stuff that isn't seafood."

Mom's expression transformed into instant horror. "Seafood?!"

Neela managed a strained smile. "I said not seafood."

It had only taken a couple of hours, but every reminder of Neela's exasperating family was currently laid out in front of her. She caught Gurinder's eye, her last beacon of hope. "How about roast chicken?"

Gurinder seemed underwhelmed which nearly brought Neela to the breaking point. She pulled at her hair like she was readying to rip it right out from the roots. "How about a burger?" she said through clenched teeth.

"I could go for a burger," Maneet said.

Neela gasped in surprise. Had her biggest nemesis become her biggest ally?

"But if we're just getting burgers there's a McDonald's right down there," Maneet added, ruining their unlikely alliance forever.

Neela shot her a death stare. "Listen to me carefully: we are not going to—"

Before she could finish her righteous statement, she noticed Dad staring longingly at the yellow arches like it was a heartwarming beacon of home.

"Do you think they sell the McChicken sandwich in Paris?" he mused.

Sonya started jumping up and down. "I want nuggets! I want nuggets!"

And just like that the battle was lost.

***

No more than fifteen minutes later (because it was fast food, after all), Neela found herself sitting at a table at McDonald's with the entire Bhandar clan. She concealed her face like she was at risk of being stripped of her visa for this hideous offence, as the rest of the family happily chomped away.

In the midst of her mortification, she managed to take a peek at Maneet shoving fries down her gullet. It was an act that elicited pure disgust. "Who visits Paris to eat McDonalds?!" she spat.

Maneet didn't seem to have a care in the world. "They're still French fries, aren't they?"

Neela was seething now. "Fries are from Belgium you basic bitch!"

Out of nowhere Mom's wrinkled hand came between them. "Quiet you girls!"

With those simple words, Mom had reduced two full grown women into squabbling teens. "Stop fighting now or we will cancel the museum," she added, a threat she was sure to make good on.

"But we were just talking!" Maneet cried, sounding as whiny as Sonya now.

"Yeah!" added Neela, crossing her arms. "Like gawddd, chill out."

"Hey!" Dad snapped, pointing a finger at Neela. "Do not disrespect your mother."

Neela rolled her eyes and stuffed a nugget into her mouth. Three hours in and this was the brand new her; or the 'old her' she thought she'd left behind. Would Luc even recognize her now?

She suddenly remembered Luc, and the fact that he would be meeting her dysfunctional clan in just a few short days.

She narrowed her eyes and tried to picture him sitting here at McDonald's, squabbling with her big fat Indian family.

And she almost choked on her chicken McNugget.