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Bonjour from Paris! Here to research Paris for All The Devils Are Here. Since I don’t really know it well I brought my research team with me. Little devils!! Guy, Walter and Kirk. Soooo fun. Oh, here’s a photo I look at often as writing – the National archives, in the Marais.
I can now see Armand, Reine- Marie, young Armand. Zora. Stephen. They’re walking the streets with me.
Wish you were here too.
Love,
Louise
Reine-Marie Gamache slipped her arm through her husband’s as they walked along rue des Archives to the bus stop on rue des Quatre-Fils.
Armand had suggested he flag down a taxi to take them from their apartment in the Marais to the restaurant, but Reine-Marie preferred the bus. It was a route she knew well. One that always confirmed for her that she was in Paris.
“Do you remember the first time we took this bus?” she asked.
He heard her words but was thinking about the first time ReineMarie had taken his arm. Like this.
It was their third date, and they were walking along the slippery winter sidewalk in Montréal after dinner.
He’d reached out for her, to keep her steady, just as Reine-Marie had reached for him.
To keep him steady.
She’d put her arm through his. So that their fates would be intertwined. If one lost their balance, the other would right them. Or they’d fall together.
“You had on that blue cape your mother loaned you,” he said, remembering that chilly night.
“I had on the polka dot dress I’d borrowed from my sister,” she said, remembering that warm day.
“It was winter,” he said.
“It was the height of summer.”
“Ah, yes,” he said into the evening air. “I remember it well.”
“You nut,” she laughed, recognizing the reference.
He smiled. And squeezed her arm. As they passed men and women, young and old, lovers and strangers, strolling like them along rue des Quatre-Fils.
