The Man of Their Lives Read online

“Turandot!” Grégoire shouted, pointing at the portrait of Puccini on the wall. Speaking of easy questions, you guys want to play a game of Trivial Pursuit?

  “Good idea,” Alix said. “You guys do that over in the living room.”

  It was easy to tell that she hadn’t appreciated her brother’s comment concerning her musical ignorance.

  “Where are my granddaughters?” Grégoire said. “They’ll team up with me.”

  “In the TV room,” Tom said, very seriously. “They’re watching The Exorcist.

  Laura ran out of the living room to make sure it wasn’t true, which gave Tom and the others a good chuckle. Everyone laughed except Alix.

  “Come on,” she said to Louis. “Don’t do that to me. You can at least play the main theme for me. Please?”

  Louis looked around for Francine and spotted her leaning against the back of the Steinway. Her smile was cheerful. She didn’t seem to be confused by the family hubbub. He lowered his eyes on the keyboard and resigned himself to playing. Everybody became silent. It was a bit of an odd melody, very romantic, easy to remember and sing along to, with enough melancholy to make it irresistible.

  “Superb,” Alix said, breaking the silence that followed the end of the tune.

  “Not really,” Louis snapped. “But they like it, and that’s what counts, I guess.”

  He was still bothered because of the changes he’d been forced to make and having to put up with the endless discussions. Alix realized that he was upset, and she tried to make him feel better.

  “I find it very—”

  “Very simplistic,” he said, getting up. “Very ordinary. If I had to compose stuff like that all year long I’d have to find another way of making a living.”

  “And what would you do, huh?” Alix said.

  They were face to face, both angry now, which accentuated their resemblance. Intrigued, Francine kept her eyes on Louis, discovering a new aspect of his personality, his face like stone and his tone aggressive.

  “I think we have a visitor,” Tom said, pointing at the French door.

  Louis hurried over to the door and let in the young man who’d been standing in the rain, waiting for someone to notice him.

  “Hi there,” Louis said. “You must be Romain. Happy to meet you.”

  “I’m sorry, I knocked but…”

  “We were making so much noise in here, there’s no way we could’ve heard you. Sorry you had to wait in the rain like that. Come on in. I’ll introduce you.”

  Romain followed Louis to the music room and shook everyone’s hands then he stood by his mother, feeling uncomfortable .

  “I need help!” Louis told him with an irresistible smile. “I’m all by myself trying to entertain these people and they’re hard to please. Apparently you’re a good musician. Let’s improvise something for them, okay?”

  Dumbfounded, Romain stared at him and looked around the room, impressed with the equipment.

  “There’s a guitar over there,” Louis said. “See if it works for you.”

  The invitation seemed impossible to turn down and the young man meekly fetched the instrument.

  “I’m not sure I know anything that—”

  “You go ahead and play something. Anything you want. I’ll follow along. Let’s give it a shot!”

  The guitar was perfectly tuned and Romain found some comfort in that. He’d never played with a musician of Neuville’s caliber before and didn’t think he could be up to the task at hand. He decided not to think about it and launched into a tune he knew the best. Louis let him do his thing for a minute or two, listening to the boy play. Then he started to accompany him, first in a linear manner, but soon with more playfulness. To make the teenager feel confident, he played softly, while raising the stakes of the piece they were performing. He could do just about anything with his piano--music ran through his blood. At the end of the tune, Tom, Hugues, Grégoire, and Francine applauded loudly, along with Laura who’d come back with her daughters.

  “You are good, kid,” Louis. “But don’t let the applause get to your head,” he added with a grin. “What else should we play?”

  “Do you know ‘Crazy Jane’?” Romain asked. He’d questioned whether Louis would know that song, but he tried anyway. By now he was feeling a bit more gung-ho.

  “Well, I know that group, but…”

  “She always says hi when she comes in…” Romain sang in a low voice.

  “She always says that things are fine…” Louis picked up.

  “But she’s lying, yes, she’s lying…” Sabine continued, delighted.

  “That’s an awesome song!” Romain said.

  “ Let’s do it,” Louis said.

  “Okay, you do the melody and I’ll take care of the guitar riffs and the bass line?”

  Thirty seconds later, both were going all out as if having the time of their lives Everybody in the room was clapping and singing along. When Frédéric walked into the room, nobody noticed him or the murderous look he shot Romain.

  “Wonderful!” Louis shouted at the end of the song.

  Romain couldn’t find anything to say he was so pleased by the way he’d played and how things had turned out.

  “Hey, Fred!” Louis shouted when he spotted his son. “You’ve missed something else!”

  Frédéric’s stiffness seemed strange to Louis, so he walked towards him.

  “ You guys know each other?”

  “ Yeah, we do. Hey…” said Frédéric.

  Romain had expected this attitude and he gave Frédéric a nod, nothing more. The adults in the room looked at them both, picking up the animosity.

  “Well, well,” Grégoire said. “It’s time to refresh our drinks, if you ask me.”

  Night had fallen and rain was still pounding the French doors. Louis reached for his pack of cigarettes and announced that he was going down to the basement to get more champagne.

  “Give me a hand,” he said to Frédéric.

  Once at the bottom of the stairs, in front of the bottles that covered an entire wall, Louis said, “Something the matter? What’s with you and that kid?”

  Frédéric shrugged and said nothing.

  “I’m talking to you, Fred.”

  “He’s a son of a bitch. We got into a fight the other day. I hit him, he hit me. Nothing major.”

  “When was that?”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “What did you guys fight about?”

  “Nothing. A girl… He’s the kind of guy that thinks he’s so cool and liberal. But he has no real ideas of his own. He likes to preach to people, just like all those know-it-all science heads. I’m not surprised his mother is a teacher!”

  Louis glared at his son.

  “I’m sorry, Dad,” the teen said. “I didn’t mean anything by that. Do I really have to have supper with you guys tonight? I have tons of school work.”

  “Really? Tonight of all nights? What a coincidence!”

  Louis shoved a bottle of champagne in Frédéric’s hand.

  “I usually don’t force you to do what you don’t want to, but I’d like you to join us tonight. Unless you’re going to go for his throat. Are things that bad between the two of you?”

  “No. Give me a break…”

  “Thank you.”

  Louis went up the stairs, followed by Frédéric, who was pissed off but powerless. In the kitchen, Laura was rinsing the champagne glasses and Alix was on her cell phone. She hung up and grabbed her brother by the arm.

  “Your girlfriend, she’s really clinging onto you, isn’t she?”

  “Louis,” Laura said, “mind taking this to the living room?” She handed her brother a tray covered with clean glasses.

  Louis ignored Alix’s comment, grabbed the tray, and left the kitchen. Laura and Alix stared at each other, while Frédéric let go a heavy sigh.

  “You’re really set on ruining his evening, aren’t you?” Laura said to Alix. “When was the last time he felt like introducing someone t
o us? What is your problem?”

  Alix felt embarrassed, and fiddled with her cell. When Laura had that expression of hers, the psychologist mumbo-jumbo was ready to be fired, so Alix decided to change her tune a bit.

  “What I’m thinking is that Louis deserves someone better than some high school French teacher with a teenage son! I mean, he could date any woman he wants…”

  Tom stood at the kitchen doorway. “I don’t know what you two are going on about,” he said, “but we’re thirsty in there and we’re waiting for you.”

  Alix turned on her heels and saw the cold stare that Tom gave her. She felt a weird sensation. Since last night, something between them had changed. He was distant and didn’t hesitate to contradict her. The way he looked at her was different too. She wondered whether she was losing him. That was scary. He’d been part of her life for a long time, which she took for granted. She now she realized that maybe he was more important to her than she’d thought. She cherished they way he admired her. And she loved the fact that he was attracted to her and she could count on him anytime. She walked over to him, grabbed his hand in a laid-back manner and said, “Should we spend the night here? This way we can drink as much as we want…”

  No matter the circumstances, Tom was a sucker for that sexy kitten act she put on not nearly as often as he’d like.

  “That’d be nice,” Tom said, in spite of himself.

  Leaving her would be very painful, he’d always known that. What would he do with himself when he at last found the courage to do what needed to be done? He was certainly tired of being at the bottom of Alix’s list, after her agency, her social life, the Neuville’s, Louis above them all. Louis was her true point of reference, the only man of her life. But the plot of this movie could be totally screwed by this new character. That little blond woman was no doubt much tougher than she looked. Maybe she’d be able to force herself inside this cuckoo’s nest. And this was something that Tom had no intention of missing.

  CHAPTER 5

  As much as he longed to be with Francine, Louis didn’t want to impose her on Frédéric. Nor did he want to leave him alone while he was out on a date. He’d always managed to spend a lot of time with his son, and he had no intention changing that.

  Francine understood the situation but worried nonetheless. She had to wait an entire week before Louis invited her out again. They had plans for on a Tuesday evening when Frédéric was going to go out.

  The few days without hearing from him had been painful, and then she received a bouquet of flowers with a card that had nothing on it but his signature. She could’ve called him, since he’d given her his home and cell numbers, but she opted to let him make the next move, even if that meant sleepless nights. She knew that he was very busy. He drove to Paris frequently on business and spent the entire day in his music room. The last thing she wanted was to intrude. And, the flowers didn’t prove anything, only that he was a gentleman. It was the tone of his voice, when he finally called, that reassured her.

  Louis said he was going to pick her up, and she accepted grudgingly. She was uncomfortable with him seeing her borderline shabby apartment building. What would he think?

  When the bell rang, Romain went over to open the front door. Francine greeted Louis in the tiny living room, waiting for his reaction. Louis was unpredictable; he didn’t pay any attention to their surroundings. He smiled broadly when he saw Francine, and seemed totally relaxed on her couch. After Francine handed him a glass of Muscadet, he launched into a conversation with Romain. He wanted to know who his guitar teacher was, what made him form a band, where he was performing. Ten minutes later, he was promising the kid that he’d find a place for him and his band to play live. Nothing easier! He was going to talk to people he knew at the Jeufosse and Bonnières-sur-Seine city halls. Hopefully they could find a venue where Romain and his band could do their thing. Thrilled, Romain asked him a slew of questions, until Francine decided it was time to leave. While kissing her son, she winked at him. She was glad that he easily accepted that Louis was going to be part of their lives.

  Louis and Francine had supper in a restaurant she didn’t know, twenty-five miles from Notre-Dame-de-la-Mer, and then he took her to his house, without asking first. The memory of their first night together there made him very eager, almost nervous, and he didn’t try to hide it. As soon as they walked into his room, he began to undress her. He’d thought about her too often in the past few days, switching from happiness to exasperation, depending on his mood. Either way, he couldn’t believe how obsessed he’d become. No woman had ever triggered such desire in him. Had he behaved like a teenager with the others? Since Marianne, he’d had a few affairs, which he’d enjoyed despite their brevity. Most had been pleasant experiences, which were comfortable enough not to question . Francine was different. She was taking him where he’d never been before, sparking emotions unknown.

  As soon as he touched her skin, took her in his arms, he knew that not only did he want her, he needed her. God only knew where this might take him. He pushed himself off her and contemplated her body. What did she have that others didn’t? What was so extraordinary about this woman? He knew she hadn’t had many lovers. She was more intuitive than experienced, but she moved and touched him beyond words. He ran a hand along her body until reaching her breast, which he caressed gently. She didn’t move, didn’t close her eyes, her blue gaze fixed on his.

  * * *

  “Dad!” Frédéric said, this time a little louder.

  Louis woke up with a start. His alarm read 7:45. He’d gone back to bed after driving Francine home at six, and he was absolutely exhausted.

  “My scooter won’t start. Can you take me to school?”

  Normally, Louis was the early bird. He was the one who had to drag Frédéric out of bed every morning.

  “Give me five minutes,” Louis mumbled, sitting up.

  The sheets were a mess, and one of the pillows had vanished, probably on the floor on the other side of the bed.

  “Want me to make some coffee?” Frédéric asked.

  “That’d be great.”

  Louis got up and staggered to the bathroom with his son pensively watching him. When he came down to the kitchen, having showered and shaved, Louis looked like his normal self again.

  “Looks like you had fun last night,,” Frédéric said, handing his father a cup of coffee.

  “Do you think I shouldn’t have?”

  “That’s not what I meant…”

  “Let’s go. You’re going to be late.”

  They climbed into the Alfa Romeo and Louis turned on the engine as Frédéric opened the front gate.

  “What’s on the agenda this morning?” Louis asked.

  “Two hours of history and one of biology. Nothing with Ms. Capelan. Don’t worry, I won’t be able to compare the dark circles under her eyes with yours.”

  “Frédéric!”

  “What? We can’t talk about this?”

  “It’s not that…”

  The car came to a stop at a red light and Louis turned to his son. Frédéric gave him an uncomfortable smile.

  “Can you pick me up at lunchtime?” he said. “Eleven… Remember, I don’t have classes on Wednesday afternoons.”

  “I know. And today I’m taking you to lunch with me in Paris so we can hang out a bit. And we’ll go by your Aunt Alix’s office. She left me a frantic voicemail last night, saying I need to see her as soon as possible.”

  The light turned green and Louis put the car in gear.

  “By the way,” he said, “what time did you come in last night?”

  “A bit before you. Eleven-something.”

  “I’m not crazy about you driving around late at night on that scooter of yours. What’s wrong with it anyway?”

  “No clue. Maybe you could take it to the shop this afternoon?”

  The teenager’s tone was pouty, almost aggressive. Louis made a right on the street that led to the high school and got stuck behind a bus t
hat was poking along.

  “Drop me here,” Frédéric said. “I don’t want people to see me get out of your swanky car. They’re going to give me a hard time, call me ‘Rich Boy’ and crap like that…”

  Just as Frédéric was about to get out, Louis grabbed his arm firmly and said, “I don’t like your tone of voice, young man, not at all. Hear me?”

  Frédéric freed his arm, and was about to say something nasty. He caught himself just in time and mumbled, “I’m sorry, Dad. See you later.”

  Louis watched Frédéric cross the street before taking off. He needed to have a talk with the boy sooner rather than later. Obviously, his son was upset about Francine being around. Maybe because of Romain, maybe for some other reason, something deeper. Maybe it had to do with his mother?

  When he drove by the high school, Louis noticed that the kids were staring at his car. Some even pointed at it. What was he suppose to drive in order for Frédéric to feel like the others? A mini-van? Those kids all wore the same jeans, the same T-shirts, the same sneakers--an entire generation of look-a-likes mortified by the very idea of ever sticking out.

  Back home, Louis called the motorcycle shop so they could come and pick up Frédéric’s scooter. Then he dialed Alix’s number but got her voicemail. He walked over to the music room and for an hour tried to work on his opera, but nothing decent came to him. He cursed under his breath and left the room. He made a pot of coffee and cleaned the kitchen countertops. He was sleepy and about to call Francine for the pure joy of hearing her voice, but thought otherwise. If he didn’t watch out, he was going to fall in love with her. And he didn’t want to confuse some physical attraction, no matter how strong, with true feelings. Up till now, he’d avoided saying things to her that might be too… revealing. He’d been tempted to do so. Especially when they were both in bed just before dawn this morning when a premature declaration almost left his lips.

  At eleven, he picked up Frédéric, who seemed to be in a better mood. He was psyched because he’d gotten a pretty good grade on his history paper. On the highway, Frédéric announced that he wanted to register for Drivers Ed so he could get his learner’s permit.