The wind was noisy up there.

Noisy and strong, way up on the crowded open-air platform high atop the Eiffel Tower. It was here that strands of hair swirled wildly, as tourists struggled to wipe their wind-gust-assaulted watery eyes amidst the mandatory task of positioning themselves for group selfies. The sun was no relief to the top-of-the-tower chill, which added to the suffering of the half-sleeved majority.

The Bhandar family was equally victimized by nature's force, and none too happy about it.

Gurinder wrapped his arms around a shivering Sonya.

"If she catches a cold it's your fault," Maneet declared.

Neela noticed Maneet's accusing stare pointed in her direction. "What?" She couldn't believe it. "My fault?!"

Dad scanned the sweeping views of Paris and frowned. "This doesn't look like those famous views of Paris in the photos," he whined, before turning to Neela. "Why doesn't it look the same?"

Neela did her best to remain patient. "Because there's no Eiffel Tower in this view."

Dad seemed confused. "So why are you showing us a view of Paris that doesn't have the Eiffel Tower in it?"

"Yeah why?" Maneet echoed, piling on just for the hell of it.

"Because..." Neela replied through gritted teeth, "you said you wanted to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower, even though it's better to just take photos when you're standing in front of it."

Mom's usual frown deepened. "If it's better to stay on the ground then why did you let us come up here?" she questioned. "If you are such a Paris expert, you should be giving us the proper advice."

Neela scoffed. It was the only way she could hold back from full-on screaming. "I did suggest that we should just take pictures out in front of the Eiffel Tower."

"When?" Mom said, appearing clueless as her brain created a totally revisionist history. "I didn't hear you," said added, before adding a heavy sigh. "Next time, give us better information so we don't waste money like this."

Neela lowering her head, but it wasn't an act of shame. She was staring down at the grassy surface several dozen stories below. But she wasn't looking for a suicidal escape.

She was plotting murder, or perhaps several murders, and it was only day two of the family visit.

God/'unknown force in the universe' help us all...

***

Several hours later as daylight turned to dusk, there was no one in Neela's vicinity who needed to be killed. Just a beautiful summer's night in Paris that needed to be enjoyed.

She rushed down the riverbank with a skip in her step, and an ear-to-ear grin on her face. It was a look of joy that had been noticeably absent since her family had arrived in Paris.

Her patterned summer dress flowed behind her, and unlike the feeling at the top of the Eiffel Tower, the wind was no longer a torture device; it was simply a warm summer breeze that held the promise of a perfect night...

***

Music and chit chat permeated throughout the charming outdoor bar by the river.

Dante and Tiff shared charcuterie and wine at a table facing the river, their relaxed conversation interrupted by an out-of-breath Neela.

"I'm here! I'm here!" she exclaimed.

"We actually thought you'd be later than this," Dante said. "How did you escape so early? Did you drug them?"

She pulled up a chair. "I stuffed them full of pizza and convinced them they still have jet lag."

"Have you still avoided showing them your apartment?" Tiff said. She took a sip of wine and offered up a teasing smile.

"No avoidance here," Neela said with all the innocence she could muster. "But Parisian plumbers? My god. They take days to show up, then arrive without any of the parts you actually need, then take weeks to order to the part..." she sighed. "They're incorrigible!"

Dante raised an eyebrow. "Finally, an advantage to bad Parisian plumbing."

"And they didn't ask to visit the friend's apartment you're staying in?" Tiff questioned.

"Well since I told them I'm staying with you I said I'm not allowed to have guests because you're mean." She squeezed Tiff's arm. "That's okay, right?"

Tiff nodded. "Totally fair...and mostly accurate."

Dante poured Neela a glass of wine.

"So tomorrow's the big day!" he exclaimed.

Neela visibly cringed. "Yup...introducing my McNugget-eating family to Luc!"

He frowned. "No, I meant my big day. Maxime and I are finally meeting for lunch!"

Dante decided this was worthy of a 'cheers,' and as they clinked their glasses, Tiff shot Neela a look.

Neela didn't see what the issue was. Excited for a lunch with the guy who got away? Who was she to judge? She simply shrugged at Tiff and took a sip of her wine.

"Are you excited?" Neela asked, annoying Tiff even more. "You should—"

"But he blew you off," Tiff interjected.

It was clear that Tiff was relishing her role as 'mean mommy.' A born natural.

"He didn't blow me off," Dante said, creating a revisionist history of his own. "He just had to reschedule for work." He coughed. "A few times."

"Where are you guys meeting up tomorrow?" Neela asked, trying to keep the mood light.

Tiff looked over at Neela. "Shouldn't we be discussing your lunch?"

"Nope," Neela said firmly. Discussing the horrors that could ensue from her parents meeting Luc was the last thing she wanted to do. The whole point of this perfect summer's night was to escape.

But Tiff pressed on. "Are you ready for them to meet him though?" she probed. "That's big."

Neela admired the river view. Then sighed happily. Then shrugged. "I am officially not ready," she admitted, the smile on her face telling the tale of major avoidance. She turned to Dante. "So tell me your exciting plans," she said, before tossing a Tiff a laser-sharp look that said 'zip it!'

Dante hesitated.

"Please," Neela begged. "I need it."

"Okay sure," he said casually. "I mean it's really no biggie."

From the look in his eyes though, it was actually the biggest of biggies. Like an 'oh my goodness look at his eyes sparkle' type of biggie.

"He basically suggested that wine bar in the sixth," he added, looking all gooey eyed now. "It's that place where he and I first made out, over Iberian ham and a light Beaujolais."

He was suddenly lost in the reminiscence, so lost that he absentmindedly pulled a strip of ham off the platter and draped it across his hand. He then moved his fingers to a silent rhythm, which managed to mesmerize Tiff.

"I totally made out at that wine bar too!" Neela suddenly said.

Tiff peeled her eyes from the interpretive meat dance. "With Luc?"

"No," she replied, smiling now. "Someone I met like a month after I got here."

Dante immediately shed the extra meat skin off his hands. "Oooh tell me more; was he hot? Good lips?"

"Sooo hot. And intense. And broody. And weirdly kinda funny too..." She sighed. "Which made it even more exciting."

Dante nodded in full understanding. "The perfect French combo...." He was now building up his very own fantasy in his head, until something brought him back down to earth. "Wait a sec; if he was so great, then where is he now?"

"Oh he's dead," she said casually.

"He's dead?!" Tiff repeated, shocked for the first time.

Neela scratched her chin. "I mean...yes? Maybe?"

Tiff was not impressed with Neela's hyperbolic ways. "Explain," she demanded.

"Okay here's the thing." Neela clasped her hands together. "I don't have like...'official confirmation' that his corpse is converting into fertilizer, but he's probably dead, you know?"

Tiff had fallen further down the hole of being totally unimpressed. "No I don't know; not in the slightest."

"Did he have a congenital heart defect?" Dante asked. "Is that why he might be deceased?"

Strangely, Neela laughed. "No, no, it's nothing like that. It's just...well I guess I always assume that whenever a guy I really like is dumb enough to leave my orbit, he disintegrates into a million billion pieces." She added a cold smile. "Painfully. Like in a way where he'd be consciously aware of his physical evisceration." She nudged Dante. "You know what I mean?"

He mulled it over. "I think for me, I need to know that a guy who rejected me is actually dead, because what better cure for a broken heart than a copy of the actual death certificate?" He looked off. "Or at least the official toe tag from the morgue."

Neela burst into laughter. "Twisted!" She noticed Tiff's stone-cold expression. "Come on, you know it's funny." She was still getting nothing. "Whatever, that wasn't even my point."

Tiff took a measured sip of wine before letting out a sigh. "Dare I even ask about the point of it all?"

Neela clasped her hands together for a second time that night. "My point—before you reminded me that those wine bar makeouts are over—was the following: is there anything as good as those early dates? When you find yourself liking someone more and more by the minute?" She inadvertently started to swoon as she went on. "And then as the magical 'likingness' grows, it actually seems like this is the time that you'll break all the records for your human capacity to feel? Until the feeling's just bursting right out of your eyeballs and your face and your soul or whatever?"

She was suddenly feeling sad but they don't notice. They were too busy playing back their own nostalgia.

"It's all fun and games until they show you who they really are," Tiff said in a quiet voice.

"Or sometimes it gets messed up even if both people want it," Dante added.

"Or sometimes a métro train gets in the way..." Neela mused.

Dante nodded but he wasn't really hearing her words. "That's why you can't give up when you get another chance."

As he concluded his statement with a somber sigh, silence consumed the sad-sack party of three, while the blissful vibe of a perfect summer's night continued right along without them...