on a foreign strand?
Daniel was in Paris, so far away, but he also felt Daniel was in danger of making a very serious mistake that could propel him further still.
“I think that might not be the best choice.”
“Why?” Daniel sounded curious, not defensive.
“You know the history.”
“You told me, but it is history, Dad. And Honoré Gamache is a good name, for a good man. You more than anyone know that.”
“It’s true.” Gamache felt a tinge of anxiety. Daniel wasn’t backing down. “But more than anyone I also know what can happen in a world not always kind.”
“You’ve taught us we make our own world. What was that Milton quote we were raised with?
“The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a Heav’n of Hell, a Hell of Heav’n.
“It’s what you believe, Dad, and so do I. Remember those walks in the park? You’d take Annie and me and recite poetry all the way there. That was one of your favorites. And mine.”
Gamache felt a fizzing in his throat as he remembered walks, tiny, pudgy fingers in what seemed a massive hand. Not so much holding as being held.
“One day soon it’ll be my turn. I’ll be taking Florence and Honoré to Parc Mont Royal blabbing poetry all the way.”
“Blabbing? Don’t you mean reciting in a strong yet musical voice?”
“Of course. Breathes there the man with soul so dead. Remember that one?”
“I do.”
“All the ones you taught me, I’ll teach them, including Milton, including that the mind is its own place and we make our own reality, our own world. Don’t worry,” Daniel continued, his voice full of reason and patience. “Honoré will know the world starts between his ears and is his for the making. And he’ll be taught as I was what a beautiful name that is.”
“No, Daniel, you’re making a mistake.” There, he’d said it. The one thing he’d promised himself not to say. Still, Daniel had to be made to see it, had to be stopped from making this well-intentioned but tragic mistake.
In his peripheral vision he saw a movement. Reine-Marie had taken a step into the room. He looked at her. Her body was composed but her eyes were filled with surprise and anxiety. Still, it had to be done. Sometimes parenting was standing up and doing what was unpopular. Risking censure. Daniel must not be allowed to name his son Honoré.
“I’d hoped you’d feel differently, Dad.”
“But why would I? Nothing’s changed.”
“Time has changed. That was years ago. Decades. You need to let it go.”
“I’ve seen things. I’ve seen what willful parents can do to a child. I’ve seen kids so deeply wounded—” they can’t even jump, he almost said. Their feet never leave the ground. No leap for joy, no skipping rope, no jumping from the dock, no dangling in the arms of a loving and trusted parent.
“Are you accusing me of hurting our child?” Daniel’s voice was no longer full of reason and patience. “Are you really suggesting I’d hurt my son? He isn’t even born yet and you’re already accusing me? You still see me as a screw-up, don’t you?”
“Daniel, calm down. I never saw you as a screw-up, you know that.”
Across the room he could hear Reine-Marie inhale.
“You’re right. Always right. You get to win because you know things I don’t, you’ve seen things I haven’t. And you seem to know I’m so willful I’d give our child a name that will ruin him.”
“Life can be hard enough without giving a child a name that will lead to abuse, to bullying.”
“Yes, it could lead to that, but it could also lead to pride, to self-worth—”
“He’ll find his own self-worth no matter what name you give him. Don’t handicap him.”
“You consider Honoré a birth defect?” Daniel’s voice was dangerously distant.
“I didn’t say that.” Gamache tried to pull back but knew it had gone too far. “Look, we should talk about this in person. I’m sorry if I seemed to say you’d deliberately hurt your child. I know you wouldn’t. You’re a wonderful parent—”
“Glad you think so.”
“Any child would be fortunate to be born to you. But you asked how I feel, and it’s possible I’m wrong but I think it would be unfair to name your son Honoré.”
“Thanks for calling,” said Daniel and hung up.
Gamache stood with the phone to his ear, stunned. Had it really gone so far wrong?
“Was it bad?” Reine-Marie asked.
“Bad enough.” Gamache hung up. “But we’ll work it out.”
He wasn’t worried, really. He and Daniel argued sometimes,