Balancing Act

125

G had landed in Charles De Gaulle on one of the worst days possible. The overflow of confused tourists and their luggage had completely jammed the TGV station by Terminal 2 thanks to the transport stoppage that had started that Friday, there wasn't a single rental car available in days and all the Ubers and taxis were either supporting the strike or working double shifts already. And somehow the message wasn't getting all the way across to those not fluent in French.

Unions were powerful in France, and the CFDT really knew how to prove a point by choosing the busiest days of the year, just before Christmas, for a full blown strike, leaving only a handful of busses and the two driverless metro lines running in the entire city of Paris. She'd considered not coming, realizing this would limit her mobility significantly, but her mother had insisted - saying how she missed her and suggesting they'd go on a few day trips outside of Paris instead to get away from the chaos if needed.

G had the advantage of understanding what was going on and what her options were, which were close to none, and instead of attempting to get a cab, she made her way out to the short term parking lot by Terminal 2E where she found a quiet corner to sit and wait while her mother would come to pick her up. Nobody in their right mind came to drop off or pick up people from the airport around here unless the person needed assistance, the traffic jams were bad on a good day, and this was certainly not one of those days. The good news, I guess, was that Sherry was on her way and had been for hours already.

G's head still throbbed a little and the flight had been tiring in itself, but frankly the trip couldn't have come at a better time personally. She was utterly embarrassed by how the night of the gala had gone. She didn't want to face anyone who knew about it more than she had to, hoping that after Christmas people wouldn't recall it as vividly. What had been supposed to be a quick moment to clear her head, and taking in the city from an unusual place behind the Gotham hall's pillars, maybe bumming a smoke from someone, like she sometimes liked to do after a few drinks, had really ended quite differently. She'd ended up talking with the guy - out of sheer boredom, seeing the event itself going nowhere, and simply hadn't thought it was a big deal to take a few puffs of his joint when he'd offered. She'd never done it before, but she knew people who had - most of them saying only positive things about it. Hence she hadn't really thought too much about it. How she'd gotten down from there and to the first floor bathrooms, she really didn't recall. She did recall the fear that she'd felt, not quite understanding when the good emotions everyone she knew had spoken of, would begin. There had been the fear of everyone finding out - and a lot of people had. She could feel her debt to Rory add up.

G was trying to preserve the remainder of her phone battery, there being a long line at the public charging stations as well, hence instead of scrolling her feed or watching something, she spent the time by perusing through some newspapers someone had carelessly discarded just where she was sitting. There was the French Metro, La Parisien and even a copy of Le Monde. She didn't care much for politics or strikes, as the main topics seemed to be, but she skimmed through them nonetheless. She was about half way through with the third paper, when her phone rang.

"I'm pulling up. There are literally only handicap spots, so be ready to hop in," her mother's voice said. That always caught her a little off guard when she heard it - it was sharp, yet light, making her a little nostalgic, as they usually mostly wrote e-mails.

G quickly rose, and without much thought shoved the newspaper to the side of her pink Fjällräven backpack and pulled her large hard shell behind her. They got a few angry shouts from a parking controller, but managed to be on their way before he had a chance to do anything, G apologizing loudly over the street noise in English this time hoping it'd excuse them by by being cathegorized under 'stupid American tourist' who were forgiven a lot.