They visited La Citadelle, with its walls protecting Old Quebec, and they watched the traditional changing of the guard inside the walls of the fort. They explored the shopping streets, Saint Jean, Cartier, Côte de la Fabrique, and wandered through the Quartier Petit Champlain.
“This is the oldest commercial district in North America,” Jean Claude told her.
“It’s super.”
Everywhere they went, there were sparkling Christmas trees, nativity scenes and music for the enjoyment of the strollers.
Jean Claude took Toni snowmobiling in the countryside. As they raced down a narrow slope, he called out, “Are you having a good time?”
Toni sensed that it was not an idle question. She nodded and said softly, “I’m having a wonderful time.”
Alette spent her time at museums. She visited the Basilica of Notre-Dame and the Good Shepherd Chapel and the Augustine Museum, but she had no interest in anything else that Quebec City offered. There were dozens of gourmet restaurants, but when she was not dining at the hotel, she ate at Le Commensal, a vegetarian cafeteria.
From time to time, Alette thought about her artist friend, Richard Melton, in San Francisco, and wondered what he was doing and if he would remember her.
Ashley was dreading Christmas. She was tempted to call her father and tell him not to come. But what excuse can I give? You’re a murderer. I don’t want to see you?
And each day Christmas was coming closer.
“I would like to show you my jewelry store,” Jean Claude told Toni. “Would you care to see it?”
Toni nodded. “Love to.”
Parent Jewelers was located in the heart of Quebec City, on rue Notre-Dame. When she walked in the door, Toni was stunned. On the Internet, Jean Claude had said, “I have a little jewelry store.” It was a very large store, tastefully done. Half a dozen clerks were busy with customers.
Toni looked around and said, “It’s—it’s smashing.”
He smiled. “Merci. I would like to give you a cadeau—a gift, for Christmas.”
“No. That isn’t necessary. I—”
“Please do not deprive me of the pleasure.” Jean Claude led Toni to a showcase filled with rings. “Tell me what you like.”
Toni shook her head. “Those are much too expensive. I couldn’t—”
“Please.”
Toni studied him a moment, then nodded. “All right.” She examined the showcase again. In the center was a large emerald ring set with diamonds.
Jean Claude saw her looking at it. “Do you like the emerald ring?”
“It’s lovely, but it’s much too—”
“It is yours.” Jean Claude took out a small key, unlocked the case and pulled out the ring.
“No, Jean Claude—”
“Pour moi.” He slipped it on Toni’s finger. It was a perfect fit.
“Voilà! It is a sign.”
Toni squeezed his hand. “I—I don’t know what to say.”
“I cannot tell you how much pleasure this gives me. There is a wonderful restaurant here called Pavilion. Would you like to have dinner there tonight?”
“Anywhere you say.”
“I will call for you at eight o’clock.”
At six o’clock that night, Ashley’s father telephoned. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint you, Ashley. I won’t be able to be there for Christmas. An important patient of mine in South America has had a stroke. I’m flying to Argentina tonight.”
“I’m—I’m sorry, Father,” Ashley said. She tried to sound convincing.
“We’ll make up for it, won’t we, darling?”
“Yes, Father. Have a good flight.”
Toni was looking forward to dinner with Jean Claude. It was going to be a lovely evening. As she dressed, she sang softly to herself.
“Up and down the city road,
In and out of the Eagle,
That’s the way the money goes,
Pop! goes the weasel.”
I think Jean Claude is in love with me, Mother.
Pavilion is located in the cavernous Gare du Palais, Quebec City’s old railroad station. It is a large restaurant with a long bar at the entrance and rows of tables spreading toward the back. At eleven o’clock each night, a dozen tables are moved to the side to create a dance floor, and a disc jockey takes over with a variety of tapes ranging from reggae to jazz to blues.