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Jo & Andy
Paris, France 1987
They had walked hand in hand along the Seine, watching the sunlight glint off the water like jewels playing hide and seek in murk. They were on vacation, their first alone, and they were heady with the joy of being together in the city of love. The cost of the flight and the cheap tiny hostel had stretched their budget to its utmost limit so they spent their days just walking around the gorgeous city and ate bread and cheese at pretty much every meal. They were so wrapped up in each other that they’d barely noticed any of the architecture that they had supposedly flown so far to see. Intricate doorways and ornate stonework went unnoticed as they meandered from arrondissement to arrondissement passionately discussing everything under the sun from their mutual love of olives to the life that they were going to build together.
“We’ll have just one child. A daughter. She’ll have big blue eyes and soft blond curls.” Jo said dreamily.
“Oh, will she?” Her dark haired boyfriend had replied. “Blond with blue eyes, you say?” He’d laughed and poked her gently in the side as he pulled her towards him. He’d gathered her in his arms, his deep blue eyes locking onto her own bright brown ones, and kissed her gently on the lips. “If she’s half as beautiful as you, she’ll be a lucky girl and we’ll have to beat the boys off with sticks.” Jo had laughed and kissed him back and after a moment they had walked on.
“She will be gorgeous and smart.” Jo had continued, in love with the image of this baby they would create together. “We’ll call her Emily.”
“Emily? Why Emily?”
“No reason, except we were just kissing on Rue Emile Zola.”
He had laughed and they had walked on, but from that moment on they’d always joked about baby Emily, born in a kiss on a crowded street in the heart of Paris.