That grew into a chasm.
Reine-Marie had watched as Armand tried to close the gap, but it only seemed to widen with each embrace.
Armand volunteered to coach his son’s hockey team until Daniel had asked him to stop.
He’d then driven the boy to early-morning practices, and sat in the stands with a wretched coffee from the vending machine to warm his hands. Watching.
Until Daniel told him to stop.
Tucking him in at night, he’d always, always told the boy that he loved him.
The words had been met with silence. But still, he’d never stopped, to this day, telling Daniel that he loved him. And he showed, in every way he knew, that he not only loved the boy but also loved being Daniel’s father.
Having lost both his parents, Armand wanted his children to have a mother and father who they could trust to keep them safe and always be there.
But it was never enough for Daniel. Something had torn. Some hole had opened inside him that could not be filled.
And yet Armand remained smitten with the boy. Reine-Marie didn’t think any father could love his children more.
Then came the teen years, and the real troubles. With the drugs. With the arrests.
As soon as he could, Daniel moved away. Putting a deep blue sea between them.
And then Jean-Guy arrived. Agent Beauvoir. Found in some basement Sûreté servitude. Angry, arrogant. One insult away from being fired from the detachment and booted out of the service.
Chief Inspector Gamache had recognized something in the young man. And had, to everyone’s astonishment, not least Agent Beauvoir’s, brought him into homicide. The most sought after, the most prestigious department in the Sûreté du Québec.
Armand had become Jean-Guy’s mentor. And more.
Jean-Guy had risen to become Armand’s second-in-command. And more.
And Daniel had never forgiven either.
Reine-Marie and Armand had talked about that. About possibly putting some distance between himself and Jean-Guy. For Daniel’s sake.
But Armand would not do it. Besides, it wouldn’t help. “Have you asked Daniel what’s wrong?”
It was the only time she’d ever seen Armand annoyed with her.
“You think I haven’t tried that? I’ve asked. I’ve begged Daniel to tell me what I’ve done. He just looks at me like I should know. I can’t keep twisting myself around, hoping something will finally satisfy him. Beauvoir’s a great investigator and a good man. He shouldn’t be punished because of my relationship with my son.”
“I know.”
What she also knew was that Jean-Guy Beauvoir wasn’t some replacement for their son. His relationship to Armand was far different. Far older. It seemed almost ancient, as though the two had known each other for lifetimes.
They belonged together.
“Daniel loves you, Armand.” She squeezed his hand. “I know he does. Give him time.”
Armand had dropped his head, then raised it. “I’m sorry I was short with you. I just …”
“Oui.”
As the years went by, and the grandchildren were born, he and Daniel had grown closer. Armand wondered if becoming a father himself had softened Daniel toward his own father. Made him forgive whatever trespass had happened.
There was still, he could sense, a small distance. It was as though there was a thin strand of barbed wire between them, so that he could only get so close before feeling the jabs.
But Armand kept trying, and the distance had diminished. Until, finally, it was imperceptible. No larger than a slight crack in a teacup.
Reine-Marie watched the two in the bistro. Leaning toward each other. And she dared hope.
Down the table, Jean-Guy and Annie were still talking with Stephen.
“What do you know, sir, about Luxembourg?”
“Luxembourg?” asked Stephen, leaning forward and checking his phone.
“You expecting a call?” asked Annie.
“No.”
Just then their dinners arrived.
Merlu Breton for Stephen. The tender whitefish was surrounded by baby potatoes, grilled beets, and a delicate sauce.
“That’s very light,” said Annie as her massive steak frites arrived, with its sauce béarnaise.
“I’m saving myself for the rice pudding,” explained Stephen.
“There’s a project in Luxembourg,” said Jean-Guy as his own steak frites arrived. “A funicular. But I’m having trouble understanding the engineering reports.”
Stephen nodded. “So do I. I don’t even try anymore. When I invest in an engineering company or project, I just read the emails between the project managers and home office. They’re much more illuminating.”
He put down his knife and fork and looked at the young man. “Has something in this Luxembourg project caught your interest?”
Jean-Guy frowned as he thought. “Non.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
The steely blue eyes glared at Jean-Guy, and his mind went blank. It was like looking down the barrel of a shotgun.
“Then why are we talking about it?” demanded Stephen. “You must’ve learned the dark art of banality from your former boss.”
Annie laughed, and even Jean-Guy gave a snort of amusement as all three looked down the table.
Armand was focused on Daniel and apparently hadn’t heard.
But Daniel had. Not the words, but the laughter. He shot a glance their way. And realized they were looking, and laughing, at him.
“So,” said Daniel, breaking off his conversation with his father to speak to Stephen at the other end of the table. “We know Mom and Dad came to see Annie and Jean-Guy. But what brings you to Paris?”
Armand felt the glancing blow. A flesh wound, but a wound nevertheless.
“I came to Paris for meetings,” said Stephen. “Arrived yesterday. Timed it to be here when the baby arrives, I hope.” He placed his hand over Annie’s, then gave Daniel a penetrating look. “Your parents and I also came to see you and Roslyn and the girls.”
And Daniel colored. But did not apologize.
“Now,” Stephen said, glancing around the table, “have I ever told you about how your father—”
“Planned to propose to Mom?” said Annie. “Never. What happened?”
Armand just shook his head and grimaced.
“A toast,” said Stephen, raising his glass.
“To The Gates of Hell.”
They clinked glasses, and Stephen caught Armand’s eye. There was amusement and genuine happiness there, Armand was glad to see. But also a warning.
The old trip wire, the barbed wire, was still in place after all.
“Really,” said Reine-Marie once the laughter died down. “The better question is where your father took me for our honeymoon.”
“I assumed it was here in Paris,” said Annie.
“I think we should order dessert,” said Armand, and tried to get Margaux’s attention.
“Non, not Paris,” said Reine-Marie.
“Manoir Bellechasse?” asked Daniel.
“Rice pudding, anyone?” asked Armand, putting on his reading glasses and lowering his head to the menu.
“Non. Shall you tell them, or should I?” Reine-Marie asked her husband.
“Why didn’t we ever think to ask?” Annie asked her brother.