Letters to Audrine

2- He's Here With Me

After I thank and pay him, I'm left on my own in front of the quaint hotel.

My worn out sneakers drag along the stone path up to the door of the hotel, and I'm rehearsing my basic French sentences in my head.

Inside, I find the small front desk where a polite lady is standing behind it in a pink cardigan. She greets me in French, and then I bumble my way through a few sentences until she stops me, realizes that I clearly don't speak French, and then starts talking to me in English.

Feeling very relieved that she speaks English, I am quickly able to get my room key and directions to my room. There's even a bellhop who helps me bring my bag up to my room.

Once inside the small, comfortable room, my first stop is the bathroom. The circular mirror above the sink shows me exactly the torment that so much travel has put on my body.

I usually think that my wide brown eyes make me look youthful, but with the deep circles under my eyes, I look like Jack Skellington. When I started this journey in Colorado, my long sandy brown hair was up in a messy bun that has slowly fallen out, leaving long hairs escaping and falling all around my heart shaped face.

My denim shorts have been chafing my thick thighs for the past five hours, so I'm quick to take them off, toss my large suitcase into the empty closet, and then I lay down on the bed. I know that my mom wants me to call her so that she knows that I found my hotel safely.

"Are you okay, Maisie?" my worried mother answers her phone before the first ring even finishes.

"Yes, I'm okay," I assure her with a long yawn. "I just got to the hotel. I want to take a nap, but I just wanted to let you know that I got here safe."

"Oh, thank god," she mutters under her breath. "And you have all of your luggage?"

"Yes, I got everything."

"Okay. Good," she still sounds very worried. I've never heard her so worried about me. Probably because she's not used to me doing anything on my own, or that she doesn't want me to do. I know that my dad is concerned about me doing this on my own too, but my mom is definitely more of a worrier. Especially when she can't control every aspect of the situation. And with me halfway across the world, it'll make my situation very hard for her to control and to keep me safe under her wing.

Honestly, it's scary to me too to not be under her wing. But I really think that this is what my grandpa wanted, for me to go out on my own to explore who I am without my mom there to control everything. Maybe this will be good for both of us.

"It's a really cute hotel," I add in an attempt to comfort her. "I'll be fine."

"What are your plans for the rest of the day?"

"I'm just going to nap probably, and maybe explore some of the hotel," I answer her through another big yawn. "Nothing too crazy."

"Your father wants me to tell you to be careful. Are you communicating with people well?"

"Kind of. One of the hotel employees speaks English, so that'll help a lot. I have this French/English dictionary for travelers that has helped too," I continue to try to comfort her. I have these same anxieties, but I don't want my mom to know that I'm also anxious because that would just make her worry more. I don't want her worry to get so out of control that she changes her mind about this whole trip and decides that I should come home early.

"I've been a nervous wreck since you left," she admits to me. "We both already miss you so much."

"You know I'll be gone longer than a day when I go off to college," I remind her.