Page 46 of The Wilder Widows

“We’d better hurry if we’re going to catch the lift to the summit.” Alexandre waved us onward, and we filed through the crowd to the next lift.

As it rose higher and higher in the sky, my anxiety rose with it. Was I really doing this? Me? Doris Miller? A God-fearing housewife from Minnesota was going to stand at the summit of the Eiffel Tower and show my tatas to the world? I said a silent prayer and asked for early forgiveness while I waited for the doors to open.

“Holy shit. Look at it. Paris.” Alice opened her arms, embracing the breathtaking site stretched out for what seemed like eternity.

“Incredible,” Sylvie breathed. “It’s absolutely incredible.”

Alexandre looked at his watch. “Light show starts in a few minutes. Enjoy.”

Like a trained actress suddenly in the spotlight, Alice flipped on her charm. “Alexandre.” She stepped in front of him, pressing a palm to his chest. “You are my hero. A true knight in shining armor.”

Even in the dim light, I could see the flush fill his cheeks. “Anything for you, Miss Addington.”

“Please. Call me Alice. We’ll be back to the lift in a little while.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

With a soft kiss on his cheek, she sent him on his way. As quickly as it came, her charm flipped back off again. “Okay ladies, we’re doing this.”

We all nodded though mine didn’t have the same certainty as the others. “So, do we just walk up to the ledge and,” I leaned in so the other spectators couldn’t hear, “lift up our shirts for a second?”

Rolling her eyes, Alice took my hand and pulled me to the edge. “We’ll do it in a more spectacular fashion than that. This isn’t a water tower. It’s the Eiffel Tower. What do you ladies say we do it when the light show starts?”

Sylvie nodded fast, and Marge shrugged. “Works for me. Too bad I don’t wear dresses. If I did, I could just lift it over my knees, and you could still see my tits.”

We erupted in laughter loud enough to draw the stares of the couples surrounding us, enjoying the romantic views.

“Sorry,” I apologized to them between snickers. Here they were enjoying a romantic moment, and the Wilder Widows showed up to ruin the mood. If only they knew what would transpire when that light show started.

“I wish I was wearing a dress as well.” Alice sighed and waved a hand over her pencil skirt.

We all turned to look at her, and Sylvie said, “Why? Your tits are still up where they belong.”

“Well, of course they are.” She cocked a hip. “I wish I was wearing a dress so I could hoist it up over my head and give Paris the best show it’s ever seen.”

Her wiggling eyebrows sent us back into stitches and drew more attention from the couples taking selfies.

“Sorry,” I mouthed again.

One couple just behind Alice smiled at me, then went back to their snuggling. While I watched her rest her head on his shoulder, a protective arm around her waist, a knot tighter than a knitting ball should be formed in my stomach. Once upon a time in my life I stood on a ledge with a man’s arm around my shoulder. His soft kiss pressed against my cheek while I stared out into what I’d thought was the whole world. And now, even though I missed my life with Harold, I wondered if maybe someday I could feel another man’s arm wrap around my waist again. Feel the stubble from his chin brush against my cheek. Feel the way that young woman looked like she felt right now.

Wanted. Protected. Needed.

“Get up here!” Alice waved me forward, and I noticed the group already lined up along the fence wrapping around the summit.

With one last longing glance at the happy couple, I stepped in between Sylvie and Alice. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“You’re just finishing what you should have decades ago.” Sylvie’s warm smile soothed me again.

Decades. How was it possible that much time had gone by? An entire lifetime in the blink of an eye. As I grabbed the railing in front of me and squeezed, I saw the same white knuckles I’d stared down at all those years ago. But this time, when I looked up, it wasn’t a sea of ranch-style houses and parks stretched in front of me. It was Paris. Bigger. Better. Grander. And suddenly, I wondered if that was what this second act in my life would be. No longer an afterthought, biding my time alone until God called me home. No. This act of my life was going to be my Grand Finale. My Paris.

Bigger. Better. Grander.

Suddenly the tower lit up with thousands of flickering lights. I gasped in awe as the space surrounding us sparkled and glowed while the lights raced around us.

“Oh my God!” Sylvie squealed as she spun in circles. “It’s like magic!”

And it was like magic. Like the flickering lights, I felt my own desires sparking to life. Hope and possibility coursed through me like the lights surging around us. And this time I wouldn’t chicken out. I wasn’t going to turn away from the possibilities because of fear or insecurity. Not in this act of my life. The rest of my life had been lived for others. This time it was just about me.