Finding Respite at the French Cafe
Our oldest son’s scholarly presentation quickly approaches. As he prepares to deliver his research paper before learned professionals, he and I fight to stay calm and focused. I am concerned about his enunciation and also that he can speed-read to bring him in under the alotted time frame. What we really needed at this point was a break.
And the perfect place to do that was a petite French cafe where my husband and I have resorted upon occasion. Walking through the red velvet drapes framing the black-wood-and-glass-paned front door, Petya and I both felt transported. French music flowed and we took a corner table near the front windows.
A beautiful day, we could have slipped into a sidewalk seat outside just as easily, but then we would have had to deal with the paparazzi, lol. My salad of spinach, arugula, tomato, hearts of palm and avocado with lemon and oil was heavenly. Heavenly.
Most of all, my son and I kicked back and connected, chatting and laughing about everything under the sun. We let the cares of life fly away.