Jacob Aiello

My mom wants to know if I remember the house, the statue of Joan of Arc, how easy it was to find parking on the streets of Paris in her stepmother’s dark purple microcar. She wants to know if I ever think about going back. She’s driven up to Portland in advance of her own trip to Paris to visit my wife Amy and I but specifically I think to ask me this question. We take her out for dinner on a rainy Monday evening and in the car on the way to the restaurant she prefaces the question by saying, “When we get there there’s something I want to ask you.”