I sat on the edge of the fountains in front of the Palais De Chaillot, my bare feet wading in the still pool, the smell of rain just beyond the horizon and I couldn’t help but to stare in wonder. After all who am I to be here? A little over a year ago I was putting in over 60 hours a week in the back of an ambulance just doing my best to make ends meet. And today, well today I am in the heart of Paris, by far the most beautiful place I have ever dreamed drinking the worlds finest wines and eating foie gras and creme brulee and I just can’t seem to wrap my brain around my own reality. That I am simply here.

Deborah and Eric sat on the stone bench ten yards down the pool, the Eiffel Tower looming overhead. She held out her hand to check for the slightest sign of imminent rain and then looked toward the sky just for good measure. I did the same.

“We had better get a move on it if we are going to beat the storm” I said with a sense of urgency.
“You’re probably right.” she replied, and then one by one removed the silk plumb shoes from her feet and made her way to the edge of the mossy green pool. Tourists began to gather out of curiosity and somewhere I heard a strong English accent say “She’s not getting in that with her dress on is she??” A flash fired from the crowd and then another.
I was first to get in. The water was a bit cooler than I had anticipated for this time of year and even though it only went to my knees I was unable to actually see the bottom. My heart pounded in my chest and I gripped my camera with a fierceness that turned my knuckles white. I hadn’t been this excited since my Junior prom and surely this would end better than that did.

I turned and gently took her hand as she slipped into the pool beside me, Eric cautiously watching from the crowd.  Deborah winked and blew him a kiss and just as we were about to make our way to the middle of the fountain I heard Eric yell “Wait!”  and before I knew what was happening I saw Eric kicking off his shoes and socks and jumping into the fountain in his hand tailored Italian suit.

“If she goes in, then I go in!” he stated matter-of-factly as he waded out toward us. When he reached us he grabbed Deborah by the waist and pulled in her in close. “If you go in, then I go in too baby.” 

For a moment I had lost my barrings and if it weren’t for the applause of the crowd then I may have missed the moment all together. Thankfully I pulled myself together at the last second and raised my camera to my eye just as he leaned in and kissed her. In the middle of an ancient fountain. Under the gaze of the Eiffel Tower. In the heart of Paris, France.