The Suitcase Adventures

As soon as you’re here in the City of Light, Discovery begins when you finish your flight. A week of adventure with so much to do Will reveal the family that truly loves you. “I’ll be there for a whole week, just me and Mamie? Do you think she’ll tell me more about Dad?” She could feel the tears forming in her eyes, ready to spill over. “That’s exactly why Mamie wants you to come visit her. You’ll be spending a week in Paris - the capital of France! I’m sure Mamie will take you shopping for the latest clothes, and you’ll see all the sights, and eat great food. But the most important thing is that there are things about the Dubois family that only Mamie can tell you, and you’re old enough now to learn about them.” Brianna closed the suitcase and looked at the stickers again. Other Dubois kids went to all these places? Her eyes went from the stickers to her mom, and she paused before saying anything more. She took a breath. “If the suitcase has been in the family for so long, is Dad’s adventure sticker on it?” Mom sat down between Brianna and Vite and pulled them close. “Your dad told me his trip was to London and that it was so much fun. Here’s his sticker,” she said, tapping her finger on it. She was silent for a second before continuing, “Look, I know you two still miss Dad, and so do I, but he would be so excited for you to go to Paris, Brianna.” “Are you sure you can’t come with me, Mom?” “I wish I could go with you, Brianna,” said Vite, his sad, brown eyes looked up at her. “In two years, you’ll get your birthday package from Mamie, Vite. But right now, I’d better go upstairs with Brianna and start packing.” “Could you come to my room in a few minutes? There’s something I want to do first.” “Sure, just call me when you’re ready. Come on, Vite, you can help me make lunch.” As her mom left, Brianna noticed the rain was slowing. The raindrops hit the gutters now with a soft, rhythmic drip, drip, drip. It reminded her how comfortable she was doing the same thing every day of summer vacation. Drip, drip, drip. Yet she couldn’t deny she felt a strong pull to go to Paris to learn more about her dad and her French family - the other half of her she knew almost nothing about…yet. She brought the suitcase up to her room and laid it on the bed. She went to the closet to look for her first sketchbook and found it in the corner laying under a pile of dance shoes and art supplies. Brianna sat with it on her bed and flipped through the ragged pages. She smiled at the colored drawings that showed her and Dad doing their favorite things; flying kites, hiking up Talcott Mountain, and drawing together in their outdoor studio, which was really just their back porch. Am I really brave enough to go to Paris by myself? What if I can’t find Mamie at the airport and I get lost? What if I don’t like the food? What if … Pip clawed at his cage interrupting Brianna’s thoughts. She remembered the day she got Pip. Dad sat on the sofa, his thin body clothed in a blue-flannel shirt and tan corduroys that hung loosely on his body. Even though she remembered his hair was gone, she could still see his chestnut brown eyes gleaming and his face beaming as he held out a package for her to open. When she opened the wiggly box, Pip bobbed his head up from his enclosure, and she and dad burst into laughter. Dad held her on his lap and gave her a hug and said, “Brianna, I want you to be brave. Pip will help you be brave, but you have everything within you to do everything required of you when things get difficult.” Dad’s words echoed in her mind as she turned to the inside cover of her sketchbook and traced her fingers across the words: To Brianna - Happy Birthday to my five-year-old artist. Love, Dad. It didn’t seem like it had been almost six years ago since he had passed away. She really wished she could hear his voice sing “Happy Birthday” to her again. She wiped away a tear and turned to look at the suitcase and realized Dad might have lived in Paris when he was her age. Maybe Mamie will show me where Dad used to live, and where he went to school. Maybe Mamie would tell me stories about Dad when he was my age. Maybe I am brave enough to go to Paris. The knot in her stomach seemed to unwind a little. She peeled off the adhesive back of the PARIS sticker and squeezed it in the space between Tokyo and London. She could feel an excitement welling up inside. She let her fingers rest on the London sticker a moment longer and then put the old sketchbook in the bottom of the suitcase. Brianna walked toward the door, pulling her hair tighter through the scrunchie of her ponytail. She caught a glimpse of herself as she passed the mirror and stopped for a second, studying her tanned face, freckled from the sun. With her hair tied back, she realized how much her brown eyes and high cheekbones looked like her dad’s. “Pip, I wonder if Mamie will think I look like him, too?” Pip looked out through his cage, his white mitts grabbing the bars, swishing his tail back and forth. Brianna let a smile escape and yelled down the hallway. “Mom, I’m ready.”