With her tickets booked, she decided she’d finish her packing tomorrow. Most of her personal things were already in boxes, waiting to go into the POD that was being delivered tomorrow morning. Mick and Lily would help load stuff up, so she could say goodbye to them that afternoon. She had one small suitcase, deciding that anything she forgot, she could always purchase when she got there. Paris might have a little bit of a shopping district, or so she’d heard?

She giggled at the thought. Addict made great fragrances, but nothing beat honest-to-goodness actual French perfume. She couldn’t wait to go sample it all. And the food? And the culture? Soon, she’d be swimming in it!

She sat down in her comfortable chair, took a sip of wine, and rubbed her hands together. Nearly thirty years in business had told her one thing: never operate without a plan. Now was the time to come up with her itinerary. No, she wasn’t as ridiculous as her kids said she was. Disney had been fun, regardless of whatever they remembered. This plan would be easy, customizable, manageable . . . and would allow her to see all of the hundreds of things she couldn’t wait to see.

She spread out a map, her laptop, and a notebook in front of her. At the top, she wrote:

June 20: Arrival at Charles de Gaulle 8 AM

Then she wrote:

8:15 AM – Get Luggage

8:45 AM Take Cab to Inn

She did a little googling to find out how long it would take the cab to get her to the inn. Thirty-six minutes without traffic. Allowing a few minutes for traffic, she wrote in the next item on her agenda:

9:30 AM Check into Inn

10 AM Stop at Café de Flore for a pastry

The place was absolutely adorable, according to the website. And they had a mille-feuille which looked absolutely delectable. She wrote, Mille-feuille??? And circled it. Then:

11 AM Take cab to the Louvre . . .

She crossed that out. Maybe instead, she should go to the Picasso Museum first, since that was Stéphane’s favorite place. Or both? Two hours should be enough for both of them, if she just caught the major pieces of art. Then she could grab a late lunch at . . .

She quickly googled cafes close to the art museum for lunch. Checking their menus, she settled on a little bistro down the street and wrote down, Salade de queues d’écrevisses au jambon de canard, because whatever it was . . . it looked quite scrumptious on the website.

After that, she googled how far the Arc de Triomphe was from the restaurant. She would allow herself an hour for lunch and fifteen minutes to take pictures of herself in front of the Arc. Maybe she’d post one or two on her empty Instagram, just to let Evan know that her life was going on just fine without him.

After that, she would have plenty of time to get to the top of the Eiffel Tower before sundown, take pictures of it as it lit up for night, and maybe return to the hotel for dinner.