the sunshine.
“Thank God I convinced you to propose in the jardin du Luxembourg,” said Stephen.
Armand was about to correct him. It hadn’t actually been that garden, but another.
Instead, he stopped and regarded his godfather.
Was he slowing down after all? It would be natural, at the age of ninety-three, and yet for Armand it was inconceivable. He reached out and brushed icing sugar off Stephen’s vest.
“How’s Daniel?” Stephen asked as he batted away Armand’s hand.
“He’s doing well. Roslyn’s gone back to work in the design firm, now that the girls are in school.”
“Daniel’s happy in his job here in Paris, at the bank? He plans to stay?”
“Oui. He even got a promotion.”
“Yes, I know.”
“How do you know that?”
“I have dealings with the bank. I believe Daniel’s in the venture capital department now.”
“Yes. Did you—”
“Get him the promotion? No. But he and I get together every now and then, when I’m in Paris. We talk. He’s a good man.”
“Yes, I know.” It seemed curious to Armand that Stephen felt the need to tell him that. As though he didn’t know his own son.
And the next thing Stephen said went beyond curious. “Speak to Daniel. Make it up with him.”
The words shocked Armand and he turned to Stephen. “Pardon?”
“Daniel. You need to make peace.”
“But we have. Years ago. Everything’s okay between us.”
The sharp blue eyes turned on Armand. “Are you so sure?”
“What do you know, Stephen?”
“I know what you know, that old wounds run deep. They can fester. You see it in others, but miss it in your own son.”
Armand felt a spike of anger, but recognized it for what it was. Pain. And below that, fear. He’d mended the wounds with his oldest child. Years ago. He was sure of it. Hadn’t he? “What’re you saying?”
“Why do you think Daniel moved to Paris?”
“For the same reason Jean-Guy and Annie moved here. They got great job offers.”
“And everything’s been fine between you since?”
“With a few bumps, but yes.”
“I’m glad.”
But Stephen looked neither glad nor convinced. Before Armand could pursue it further, Stephen asked, “So that’s your son. How about your daughter and Jean-Guy? Are they settling into their new lives in Paris all right?”
“Yes. A transition, of course. Annie’s on maternity leave from her law firm, and Jean-Guy’s adjusting to life in the private sector. Been a bit of a challenge.”
“Not surprised. Since he’s no longer your second-in-command at the Sûreté, he can’t arrest people anymore,” Stephen, who knew Jean-Guy Beauvoir well, said with a smile. “That can’t have been easy.”
“He did try to arrest a colleague who cut into the lunch line, but he learns quickly. No damage done. Thankfully, he told her his name is Stephen Horowitz.”
Stephen laughed.
To say going from being Chief Inspector Beauvoir in the Sûreté du Québec to running a department in a multinational engineering firm in Paris was an adjustment would have been a vast understatement.
Having to do it without a gun was even more difficult.
“Daniel and Roslyn being here has helped a lot.” As Armand spoke, he examined his godfather, to see his reaction to those words.
As a senior officer in the Sûreté du Québec, and Jean-Guy’s boss for many years, Gamache was used to reading faces.
Less a hunter than an explorer, Armand Gamache delved into what people thought, but mostly how they felt. Because that was where actions were conceived.
Noble acts. And acts of the greatest cruelty.
But try as he might, Armand had difficulty reading his godfather.
For a time, he’d thought he was in a position of privilege, and had unique insight into this remarkable man. But as the years went by, he began to wonder if maybe the opposite was true. Maybe he was too close. Maybe others saw Stephen more clearly, more completely, than he could.
He still saw the man who had taken his hand and kept him safe.
Others, like his grandmother Zora, saw something else.
“How’s Annie?” asked Stephen. “Are they ready for the baby?”
“As ready as anyone can be, I think.”
“It was a big decision.”
“Oui.” No use denying that. “She’s due any day now. You’ll see them tonight at dinner. I’ve made reservations for all of us at Juveniles. Eight o’clock.”
“Terrific.” Stephen unzipped his inner pocket and showed Armand the note in his slender agenda. “I assumed.”
Already written there was family, then Juveniles.
“Reine-Marie and I will swing by and pick you up.”
“Non, non. I’m having drinks with someone first. I’ll meet you there.” Stephen looked ahead of him. Staring at The Thinker.
“What’re you thinking?” Armand asked.
“That I’m not afraid to die. I