The Man of Their Lives Page 17

  “Slow down!” Tom pleaded, as Louis veered from one lane to the other.

  “Hard night?” Louis joked, easing off the gas pedal a bit.

  “No more than usual. I have a packed house every night.”

  “Aren’t you getting tired of the night life?”

  “No. I still enjoy it. I’m actually thinking of selling the club and opening another. It’d be a good time to sell this one, and I get a kick out of the idea of starting fresh.”

  Perplexed, Louis nodded. Tom was almost fifty—those sleepless nights had to take some toll. Obviously he needed to pour all his energies into one thing, to tackle some huge challenge, anything to take his mind off Alix. He had deep feelings for her, but he’d tried to stifle them for a good while now. Not that Tom came out and said it, but Louis could sense it.

  Stopped the car on the shoulder. “Want to drive?” he said.

  “No,” Tom said with a broad smile. “I’m not obsessed with cars like you and your sister.”

  “Come on! Just for kicks.” Louis stepped out of the car.

  Tom got behind the wheel. He adjusted the seat and drove off, slowly. Then he stepped on the gas.

  “Holy shit!” he said.

  “A bit better than Alix’s MG, don’t you think?”

  “I wouldn’t know. She never lets me drive her precious automobile.”

  This comment, Louis thought, revealed quite a bit about their relationship.

  “She’s completely nuts about your song, you know,” Tom said, his eyes glued on the road.

  “If you want to know the truth,” Louis sighed. “It all makes no sense to me.”

  “I hear you. But trust Alix. She knows what she’s doing and she’ll do anything to get what she wants.”

  “You’re telling me…”

  Louis knew that Alix was excellent at what she did, but she was also neglecting her personal life while trying to control his.

  “Hey, for someone who doesn’t like speed…” Louis said, pointing at the speedometer.

  Tom laughed, and slowed down. Soon they reached the gate of the house. They found the entire family sitting at the picnic table in the yard. When Frédéric notice that Francine wasn’t with his father, he ran toward the car.

  “Hurry,” he said, “I managed to save some food for you. These people were going to eat everything!”

  Surprised by the sudden excess of concern, Louis tousled his son’s hair.

  “After lunch,” Frédéric said. “How about fencing with me?”

  “No. You’re too good at it now!”

  “Ah, come one. Just a half hour. Don’t worry, it’s not going to prevent you from doing what you want to do…”

  The teen hadn’t been able to help himself from alluding to his father’s interest in Romain’s “stupid-ass concert.”

  “Alright, we’re on,” Louis said, sitting down at the end of the table.

  He saw Hugues look at him with a pensive air.

  “Here,” Frédéric said, handing him a plate of fried calamari. “Have some food.”

  Poor Frédéric was trying so hard to please his dad. Louis knew that his son was feeling guilty. Unable to like Francine or tolerate Romain, he put his father in a very tough position. He knew it and felt bad about it.

  “What about some lemon?” Louis said. “Did you save one for me?”

  “Here,” Grégoire said on the other side of the table, “catch!”

  “No, no!” Tiphaine said. “I want to throw the lemon to Uncle Louis.”

  The lemon wedge made an arch in the air and crashed into the salad bowl. Sabine rolled with laughter.

  * * *

  Élise was sitting at the edge of the stage, pouting. She wore a black T-shirt that showed off her belly button and tight jeans, but Romain hadn’t looked her way even once. She never should’ve had that talk with him, especially before the concert. Last night when they came out of the movies, she’d made the mistake of telling him everything. She admitted she didn’t know about them anymore or if she wanted things to go much further between them. Maybe he would’ve understood, been okay with the idea, if she hadn’t defiantly said that she didn’t want to be seen as his girlfriend. That was another way of saying that she wanted to date other boys. This did not sit well with him at all. After dropping her off on his moped, he’d left her at the front door without saying goodnight.

  With a sigh, she glanced at her watch. People were beginning to arrive. There were some students that she recognized. A few were joking with Richard, who was acting as the bouncer. At least Francine Capelan had disappeared. When she was around, it was like being in a classroom.

  Élise hopped off the stage and went over to help Richard greet people. For a few minutes, she acted as the usher, showing people to their seats.

  “Why do we have chairs?” she asked Richard. “It’s dumb. After five minutes people are going to want to stand up and dance.”

  “Don’t ask me,” Richard said. “Wasn’t my idea. And what did you do to Romain anyway? He’s been in a crappy mood all day. You guys have a fight or something? I hope you didn’t tell him you went to the fencing match.”

  “Where?”

  Romain had appeared behind them. Both Richard and Élise were embarrassed.

  Romain looked angry and upset. Richard hoped that he wasn’t going to take it out on his guitar and he decided to warn Damien just in case. This was a great opportunity for the band, and he didn’t want it to be ruined because of a girl.

  Outside the hall, Louis and Tom chatted for five minutes with the hall’s manager. Then Tom went inside to save some seats. Louis waited for Francine, who’d gone home to change. When he saw her get out of her car in the parking lot, his heart melted. She was wearing faded jeans and a cotton shirt that made her look even more petite. She could’ve been mistaken for one of her students. She wasn’t coming here as Romain’s mom or a teacher—she wanted to blend into the crowd. From afar, she waved and smiled at Louis. He was overcome by a sensation he hadn’t felt in a long time. Ignoring the man locking his car, he hurried toward her. He couldn’t wait to hold her in his arms.

  “You look beautiful,” he said and kissed her on the neck.

  The perfume she wore triggered an intense desire in him.

  “Are you spending the night with me?” he asked her.

  “Listen, Louis...”

  “You’re going to stay with Romain after the concert?”

  “No. He’s going to celebrate with his friends. But I have tons of grading to do and, besides, I don’t want to intrude on your family, or make an enemy out of your son. We have to make things happen slowly. You understand?”

  He held her more tightly, sad at the thought that each night they were going to have the same problem.

  “Why don’t you come over during the night, then?”

  Both the idea and Louis’s serious tone made her laugh.

  Regretfully, he let go of her.

  “At one o’clock, when everybody is sleeping?” she said.

  “Yes.”

  It was better for her to go to Notre-Dame-de-la-Mer. The walls were too thin in her apartment, and Romain’s room was too close. Besides, Louis couldn’t leave Frédéric alone by himself in that huge, lonely house after everyone had gone back to Paris.

  A few yards away from them, Antoine was watching them. When Louis was walking toward Francine, he’d kept his eyes on him. So that was the man going out with his ex-wife? The famous musician that Romain avoided talking about? Antoine had imagined him differently. For him, all musicians had long hair, two-days of stubble, and sloppy clothes. But this guy had a nice haircut, an elegant blazer, an athlete’s build. Worst of all, he seemed to be in love.

  Antoine waited for Francine to spot him before approaching them.

  “So you decided to come?” Francine said, slightly embarrassed. “Romain will be glad. Um… Louis Neuville, this is Antoine. Romain’s father.”

  The two men sized each other up defensively. They
did not shake hands.

  Grimacing, Antoine asked, “As a… professional, what do you think of my son’s music?”

  “It’s not bad at all. Romain is quite talented.”

  Louis had answered dryly, but didn’t regret doing so. Antoine let out a sneer, which contained all the scorn he could muster.

  “Talented,” he said. “I wish he had talent for things that are more constructive. Anyway, let’s go hear this. But not too close to the speakers, okay? Don’t want to lose my hearing!”

  Louis’s expression hardened. He felt a violent animosity towards Antoine, whose attitude irked him.

  “You guys coming?” Antoine said with a mocking expression. “Last thing we want is to miss the beginning of the show!”

  He grabbed Francine’s elbow, trying to lead her to the hall.

  “I hope you’re not going to forget,” he said, “that finals are in three weeks. I expect Romain to spend his time studying between now and then, and not on that guitar of his.”

  Antoine was still clutching Francine’s elbow. Louis felt the anger rising inside him; he was having a hard time keeping his cool. He hated this man not just because of that stupid self-confidence, or his disdain for music. He loathed the very idea that Francine and Antoine had been lovers, had married, had had a life together. He hated that he felt amazingly jealous, a feeling he’d never experienced before.

  Antoine turned to him, as though he knew what Louis was thinking. “You’re not coming?” he said, with a smile.

  Francine finally freed her elbow. “Let’s go,” she told Louis.

  Her voice was strong again. Her ex-husband’s comments hadn’t upset her, but she could see how they affected Louis. He was seething but he followed her inside the hall, hands buried in his blazer pockets.

  Almost all the chairs were already taken in the hall. Tom was sitting at the back of the room. He waved at them. He’d saved seats for everybody. Francine and Louis went over to him, followed by Antoine who seemed to be intent on sticking to them.

  The band ran onstage with the crowd cheering.

  Francine threw a glance at Louis, whose jaw was still tight. She leaned over to him and whispered in his ear, “You’re beautiful when you’re angry…”

  Louis smiled. He almost said something, but didn’t.

  Suddenly the lights inside the hall were turned off. With a blue spot light focused on him, Romain launched into a guitar solo.

  Louis turned to see Antoine’s reaction. It was the man’s son on stage. Was he proud? Nervous? He kept that same aloof expression. Was he stupid, clueless, pig-headed? Francine had said very little about him. She only brought up his name when Romain was the topic of conversation. She never talked about their past. All Louis knew was that she was very young when she married Antoine. Young, naïve, in love. He had the impression that it was Antoine who’d made her the woman she now was.

  The band was going all out onstage. Louis listened to it for a while, before peering at Antoine once again. He couldn’t help himself. His square hands resting on his knees, his receding hairline, his beer gut. The serious type, solid as a rock, boring as can be. Romain didn’t look like him, at least physically.

  Louis thought Damien could’ve been better on the synthesizer. But the three kids were used to playing together and their performance wasn’t bad. The audience was getting more and more into it. Some kids were jumping up and down. Just then, Antoine leaned toward Francine and said something to her. Francine shrugged. If she’d said something back or responded with a smile, Louis probably wouldn’t have been able to remain seated. He tried to get ahold of himself. What was wrong with him? Getting jealous about the past would only make him miserable. Francine had had a life before meeting him. As insufferable as the idea was to him, she’d learned to make love with Antoine. He’d had a life with Marianne, which Francine was wise enough not to bring up.

  Annoyed by Louis’s staring, Antoine finally turned his head. Their eyes met. After a few moments, Antoine lowered his gaze, convinced that Francine had made a mistake getting involved with that guy. Anger-prone, aggressive, probably emotionally unstable. Sooner or later she’d realize that for herself—too bad for her.

  “Quit staring at him!” Tom whispered to Louis. He elbowed him.

  The audience screamed as the band played the last chords of a particularly uptempo song.

  “What do you think?” asked a delighted Francine, applauding.

  “They’re good,” Louis responded, absentmindedly.

  He intended to give Romain a much more detailed account when he had the chance, but that would between the two of them. The young man had real talent that could be developed into something special with the right guidance.

  More people in the crowd got excited and jumped to their feet. In a fleeting moment, Louis was sorry Frédéric wasn’t here with him. When would Louis and Francine ever be able to hang out together with their sons and feel good about it? How long would they have to wait until the boys finally got along? When would Louis and Francine be allowed to plan a future together?

  “I’m going out for a smoke,” he told Francine. “I’ll be able to hear them outside.”

  Tenderly, he squeezed her shoulder, before making his way down the aisle. Tom followed. Outside, where the noise was more tolerable, they sat on the hall’s steps.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Tom.

  “Nothing. Except that this guy, Antoine, really rubs me the wrong way.”

  “I got that. But what’s the big deal?”

  “I’m crazy in love, Tom, and I’m jealous.”

  There, he’d told someone and felt relieved.

  “You’re that much in love?” Tom said. “Are you sure about this? Maybe you should slow things down…”

  “I’m trying to. I’ve no choice. Everything is complicated enough with Frédéric, I can’t afford to make things worse.”

  Louis put out his cigarette and listened to the guitar riffs coming from the hall.

  “Listen to that,” he said. “That’s good stuff. The kid needs more work, but he’s very talented.”

  As they were getting up, Antoine was coming out of the hall.

  He stopped in front of them and said, “You’re getting tired of this, too, right?”

  “Not at all,” Louis shot back. “It was only a quick cigarette break. We’re going back in there now!”

  In order to prevent any confrontation, Tom led Louis inside the hall without giving Antoine the chance to say anything else.

  CHAPTER 9

  The first days of June were hot and muggy. In the Jardin du Luxembourg, Grégoire let the sun soothe his arthritic joints as he watched young mothers, au pairs, and students stroll by. The parade of short skirts and cotton dresses made him long for a “treat.” With no reservations whatsoever, he went over to Monique’s. He was always welcomed there, treated like royalty. In his mind, nothing about this secret relationship he’d been having for years was sordid. His family didn’t need to know every little detail of his private life. Alix and Laura never wondered how he’d managed without a woman since the death of his wife. Either they weren’t concerned, or they were too embarrassed to bring up the topic, or they simply saw him as an old man. Grégoire still had desires, needs. Age changed nothing with that. Going to Monique’s was the perfect solution.

  On his last visit, as he was slowly getting dressed, Monique had turned on the radio. One of Louis’s pieces was playing. Grégoire had recognized it right away. Alix had given him the CD as proud as if she was the one who’d composed the music. When Grégoire pointed at the radio and said that was his son’s composition, Monique laughed. Only when Grégoire became upset did she finally believe him. Then she said, with a hint of respect in her voice, that this was a hit.

  Is Louis happy to have written a hit? Grégoire had asked himself on his way back home. Would big-time success bother his incorrigibly romantic son? Alix kept irritating her brother with her choices for him, no matter what decisions she made.
At least she’d made him a wealthy man. Without her, what good would Louis’s talent have been. Would there anything beside useless note-covered music sheets pilling up on his Steinway? But, Alix totally lacked proper judgment when it came to women getting close to her twin. Ignoring Francine wouldn’t make her go away. Thank God! Grégoire always believed that one day Louis would fall in love again. He personally knew all too well the sadness and frustration that came with cruel loneliness. For eight years, Louis had stoically accepted his role as a single parent, all the while struggling to compose his music and deal with his other responsibilities. He’d settled for a few short-lived romantic affairs. He’d given a lot while asking for very little in return.

  No wonder he was so attracted to Francine Capelan. Francine had everything to make his son fall for her. No resemblance to Marianne, a lot of energy, strong-willed, above all a sex appeal that Grégoire had noticed right away. There was a sensuality underneath that sweet and innocent façade of hers. Louis couldn’t help but succumb to her charms. He was going to grow attached to her more and more as time went by. Alix was foolish to want things to unfold otherwise. Even as a child, Louis had the intense need to love and be loved. He needed to experience and ignite passions, to be scared and be comforted, to experience both strength and fragility. An overly sensitive boy always tempted to the breaking point.

  Walking in the sunshine had made Grégoire tired, that and his visit to Monique’s. He was relieved to reach the entrance of his apartment building. The relative cool underneath the awning enabled him to catch his breath. Neglecting his daily exercise, he decided to use the elevator. He was looking forward to an hour alone before Laura and the girls returned home. He’d even have time to read the paper and sip an iced tea.

  But once on the second floor, he found Frédéric sitting cross-legged in front of his door. The boy looked mightily upset.

  “Were you waiting for me?” Grégoire asked with a worried smile.

  “Yes, Grandpa. You or Aunt Laura.”

  “Something wrong, son?”

  “Kind of…”

  The young man got up and Grégoire suddenly realized that he was very tall. Or Grégoire was shrinking with age.