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In Peter’s opinion, his son was growing up too fast. Neal was now a tall, lanky 14-year-old who worried about pimples on his face and braces on his teeth as much as he worried about football statistics. Yes, football. Unfortunately, unlike his father, baseball had never captured his interest like the more frenzied scrums on the gridiron. He had outgrown trips to haunted houses, neighborhood summer carnivals, and a Disney theme park in Florida, but school dances continued to be intimidating. In other words, he was a typical teenage boy lugging around the angst of being on the cusp of manhood.
By the age of 16, the braces were gone, a complexion had cleared, and a once young manchild had grown several inches, almost matching his father’s 6’2” frame. He was more comfortable around girls who seemed attracted to his All-American good looks. El claimed she was tempted to use a broom to beat the bevy of giggling females off her doorstep. Nevertheless, two parents felt very blessed to be raising a son with little drama when friends were complaining that their own offspring were high maintenance nightmares.
Perhaps their good fortune was just the luck of the draw, or maybe it was their parenting skills that made Neal Burke such a joy. He was the total package—intelligent, kind, and endowed with a moral compass pointed towards true north. He respected his parents and took an interest in their lives as well as his own. He never showed boredom when El talked about her catering events, and he was attentive when Peter shared stories about his White Collar cases. However, his real passion was history, specifically world history, and his room was filled with books about vast empires founded by kings and their armies in countries that were now enjoying a more modern lifestyle while still retaining the glory and charm of their bygone days.
So, with that in mind, two parents decided that they wanted to give their son an unexpected gift for his high school graduation, and that was a trip to Europe. He would be going off to college soon, so it would probably be the last vacation they would take together as a family. Peter and El had put their heads together and done their homework to make sure their budget made it doable. To complete the process, they also made a few collaborative transatlantic calls before coming up with an affordable ten-day excursion for three people where they would explore the highlights of certain cities, most notably, London and Paris because of the close proximity of the two countries. Peter was tempted to add Sweden to the itinerary, but Vikings were his catnip, not his son’s. Peter kept in mind that this excursion was for young Neal, not him.
Of course, their boy was over the moon about the upcoming adventure. He began boning up on British dynasties going back to William the Conqueror, and places like Westminster Abbey and the infamous Tower of London. After he had finished with Britain, he got familiar with Napoleon Bonapart and iconic landmarks in France, such as Notre Dame and Versailles. His suitcase was packed two weeks before departure date, and a knapsack was filled with guidebooks. While other young people might be backpacking on their own through youth hostels abroad, Neal didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed that his parents were coming along for the ride. He enjoyed their company just as they enjoyed his.
While Peter and Elizabeth cat-napped on the overnight flight across the Atlantic, Neal was too excited to sleep. He methodically went over the list of iconic spots he wanted to visit. He knew they were touristy, but he didn’t care because he actually was going to be a tourist visiting a new place and he wanted to take it all in.
The Burke family hit the ground running in London, jetlag be damned. After they had checked into their Kensington Airbnb, they figured out how to navigate the London Tube system and were off. Over the next 5 days, they took pictures of the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace and listened to the Beefeaters talk about how a lot of famous English men and women lost their heads at the infamous Tower of London. They ogled the Crowned Jewels, took a boat ride on the Thames, and saw a copy of the Magna Carta in the British Library at St. Pancras. They ate fish and chips, drank dark stout, and read the names of distinguished personages entombed in 1000-year-old Westminster Abbey Cathedral. On the last day of their too-short visit, they trudged down corridors perusing the extensive collection of Egyptian artifacts in the British Museum.
On the morning of day 6, they boarded the Dover to Calais ferry which, in a brief hour and a half, would deposit them on French soil. During the channel crossing, Neal snapped a few pictures of the famous White Cliffs which seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. Peter had planned to have his family take the 3-hour long train journey from Calais to Paris, but that plan was derailed when a short bald man accosted them on the pier. He was in full chauffeur livery and holding up a sign with their names.
“Bonjour, Madame and Monsieurs, you are the Burke family, yes?” he said in a clumsy French accent after he ambled over. “You should be made aware that a very generous individual has insisted that you must arrive in ‘The City of Light’ in grand style. So, I am at your service. Your chariot awaits, so chop chop.”
Peter worked hard to keep his expression neutral while Elizabeth hid her smile behind her hand. However, when their son found his eyes ogling a vintage Rolls Royce Phantom limousine idling at the curb, he whispered to his father, “The guy who owns this primo ride must be doing okay if this is how he rolls.”
The chauffeur heard the remark and took it upon himself to answer. “Oui, young man, he does very well. But perhaps Monsieur Reynard simply likes old things, which may even include some individuals.”
Peter stifled a sudden fit of coughing before clearing his throat and adding to the discussion. “Um, maybe I should explain,” he told his son as he tried to get control of a situation that could spiral out of hand. “I thought since none of us are proficient in French, I arranged to have a personal guide show us the sights while we’re here.”
“Dad, isn’t that being a little extravagant?” Neal whispered to his usually frugal father. “We have translator apps on our phones so we can get by.”
Peter squirmed a bit before replying. Maybe being pushed into a corner made him resort to paraphrasing words from another time and another place. “Um, I managed to negotiate a good deal with the guy, so I think we should give him a chance when we meet him.”
When Neal looked to his mother for support, Elizabeth simply shrugged and produced an enigmatic smile. And when they eventually reached their lodgings on the Left Bank, she urged her son to give his father some space.
“I think you should let your Dad decide how he wants to handle the situation. So, let’s take our suitcases inside and start getting settled. I’m sure he’ll be joining us momentarily after he has a word with the chauffeur.”
And that chauffeur had a bit of criticism to voice when they were alone. “Seriously, Suit, an Airbnb while in Paris? Instead of being cheap, you should have sprung for rooms in the George V.”
Peter was scowling at the little man. “When it’s on your dime, Mozzie, maybe I’d be willing to splurge. Now, tell me when Monsieur Reynard is going to grace us with his presence.”
“I believe he’s planning to collect you all for lunch,” Mozzie informed a man eager to see a long-lost friend. “So, since this concludes my work here, gratuities are expected for services rendered,” he added as he stood with his hand upturned and an expectant look.
Peter couldn’t help himself. He started to laugh as he placed a high denomination bill in the chauffeur’s palm. “I never thought I’d say this, but it’s good to see you, Haversham. And it’s kind of reassuring to know that some things haven’t changed.”
Mozzie shrugged. “Change is a constant, Suit, but the more things change, the more they stay the same.”
Peter rolled his eyes. “I know you love to quote people, so who said that?”
The little man grinned. “It’s a Mozzie quote. I pride myself on being wisely profound.”
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Although he was expecting this, there were butterflies swirling in Peter’s gut as he puttered around putting his travel clothes in drawers and his toiletries in the bathroom. It had been almost two decades since he had seen Neal, with the last time taking place in a morgue. He thought back to their complicated saga, realizing that the first time he had encountered the con man, he had been no older than his own son was now. Today they would be reconnecting again after almost 20 years, and Peter hoped that inexplicable bond still remained the same.
Nevertheless, Peter was nervous. Regardless of Mozzie’s quote about change, Peter couldn’t help but wonder who Neal was now after reinventing himself. Of course, he knew the broad strokes regarding his former partner’s new life, but a person now well past his salad days could be someone much different. But when Peter opened the door after a gentle knock summoned him, it was like déjà vu seeing the vision standing before him, and he had to fight down the urge to enfold an old friend into his arms. Instead, both men had to play their roles and remain in character.
“Our tour guide is here!” Peter called out while trying to keep the emotion out of his tone.
A handsome visitor in casual but fashionable clothing stepped into the room and addressed the occupants, “Welcome to Paris everyone! My name is Nicholas Reynard, but I usually go by ‘Nick,’ and I’m going to make sure that you enjoy this wonderful city.”
He then turned to El, grasped her hand warmly, and produced a dazzling smile. “Enchanté, Mrs. Burke.”
And his smile never wavered when he addressed the teenager in the room. “You must be Neal Burke,” he said as he shook the boy’s hand. “I’m going to make it my mission to take you on an adventure that you’re not likely to forget.”
“Wow, are you really French because you don’t have any accent?” Peter’s son asked politely.
Nick threw a guarded glance in Peter’s direction. “Actually, I’m an expat who left the United States to live in Paris a long time ago, and although I sometimes regret leaving loved ones behind, I’ve learned to adapt and make a new life here.”
That remark made Peter wonder why he had worried if he and Neal could pull off this charade. Apparently, his old CI was still chameleon-like and could blend in and be convincing no matter who he was pretending to be. And Neal had always claimed that a good con should contain an element of truth. Nonetheless, at that moment, Peter suffered a few pangs of guilt for conning his own son, but he needed to protect the boy, just as he was now still striving to protect his former partner. But was he conning himself by thinking they could keep a house of cards from collapsing around their ears? That was something he didn’t want to contemplate as he trooped out onto the street along with his family.
Young Neal looked a bit disappointed when they left the Airbnb and the limo was no longer in evidence. Nick perceptively commented, “The limo was rented because it was roomy enough for your long commute with your luggage. But now we’re going native by walking or using the Métro to get around. Follow me and I’ll escort you to a tucked away little bistro that only savvy locals patronize. The food is excellent and it’s near everything you probably want to see.”
Peter couldn’t help but smile as he watched his son chatter animatedly with Nick during lunch, showing the “tour guide” his long list of must-sees and stressing the circled ones. Nick was attentive and nodding his head as he let the boy’s enthusiasm spill out. When he added a few suggestions, the teenager looked even more eager to get started exploring an old city steeped in history.
“It looks like our guys are getting along famously,” Elizabeth whispered to Peter.
“Yes, it does,” Peter agreed as he smiled like a proud papa.
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The next few days were a whirlwind of activity for the Burke family as their very helpful guide delivered as promised. The new visitors snapped pictures on their phones and stored image after image in their mental memory books. They climbed the Arc de Triomphe to get a stunning view of the Champs-Élysées and were in awe of Notre Dame Cathedral with its imposing Gothic architecture and stained-glass windows. Nick insisted that they leave the summit of the Eifel Tower for after dusk so they could experience a panoramic view of a vibrant twinkling city spread out before them.
On another day, they spent hours in Montmartre, an artistic, charming section of Paris that was quite bohemian in nature. In that same neighborhood, The Sacre-Cœur Basilica, perched like a gem atop a high hill offered another great view of Paris. And later they had to literally drag young Neal out of bookshops in the lively Latin Quarter.
It was never boring to listen to Nick tell stories that blended the past with the present. He spoke off-the-cuff with a wealth of knowledge, and he seemed to somehow intuit when his little band of travelers needed to rest and recharge their batteries. He insisted that their excursion to Versailles, located 10 miles outside of Paris, be a one and done because of the sheer immenseness of Louis XIV lavish 17th century palace. The Burkes were glad to call it a night after a sumptuous meal in another one of Nick’s culinary hideaways.
When the magical holiday was drawing to a close and there remained one last time they would be dining with their tour guide, Nick suggested something special. He named a rather upscale dining venue, Le Clarence, located near the Champs-Élysées. When Peter looked it up in one of his son’s guidebooks, he realized the establishment was very opulent and had Michelin stars to attest to the excellence of its classic French cuisine served in a 19th century mansion.
“I don’t know about this,” Peter started to object to his wife. “I might feel out of my league and use the wrong fork or something. I don’t want to look like a gauche American wearing an outdated suit.”
Elizabeth knew her husband well. “Peter, I insisted that both you and Neal bring along perfectly good suits, but I think I know the real problem that’s worrying you. You’re hesitant because of what may be exorbitant prices.”
Peter managed to look sheepish. “Well, there is that. We’ve already spent a lot of money on this trip, not that I regret it, but we’re looking at 4 years of college tuition starting in the fall.”
“Stop fretting, Hon. Our ‘tour guide’ also knows you well, and he confided to me that the owner of the restaurant owes him a favor so there won’t be a bill delivered to the table at the end of the meal.”
“Why am I not surprised that my former CI managed to make friends in swanky places,” Peter replied sarcastically.
Nevertheless, to Elizabeth’s delight, her husband acquiesced graciously. So later that evening, the Burkes presented themselves to the maître d’ of the chosen restaurant and were warmly greeted and escorted to a quiet table that was set for six people. Nick had yet to arrive, but the mystery of the additional seating was cleared up when he did appear moments later accompanied by two other people.
“Everyone, I’d like you to meet my wife, Celeste, and our daughter, Elise.”
Peter found himself staring at an exquisitely beautiful woman on “Nick’s” arm. She was stunning in every way. Her face was porcelain smooth, her green eyes were mesmerizing, and the long blonde hair pulled back in a delicate chignon highlighted her slender neck. Her voice was soft and almost melodic when she smiled and said, “Bonsoir à tous. I’ve been very much looking forward to meeting my husband’s friends.”
Belatedly, Peter remembered to stand when the two women had entered the room, and now he did rise as did young Neal who was staring with his mouth hanging open. Maybe the reason for the teenager’s stupor was because he was looking at the younger female being seated next to him at the table.
Elise Reynard was as beautiful as her mother, but in her own unique way. Peter could see so much of Neal in his daughter. Where her mother had fair hair, Elise’s thick tresses were darker and framed her face in delicate wispy tendrils. Her eyes were Caribbean blue, also like her father’s, and her smile was as charming as his. She looked a little younger than the teenage boy who was currently awe-struck. When she sat down and whispered in French-tinged English, “Good evening, everyone. I am very pleased to make your acquaintance,” Peter’s own offspring was a goner.
After everybody had settled themselves at the table and were accepting menus from a hovering waiter, Peter looked across at Nick and raised an eyebrow. Nick returned the unspoken comment with a smile and a wink. And as the evening progressed, there wasn’t one bit of awkwardness. Elizabeth and Celeste quickly became engrossed in a conversation about fashion and French culinary recipes. And a very well-mannered young girl was trying to engage her male dinner partner in a dialogue.
“I hope that your visit to Paris has been enjoyable, Neal,” she said to the boy.
“Um, yeah—I mean yes. Your father has been the best tour guide, Elise, but I’ll bet he’s heard that from all his former clients.”
The girl seemed perplexed after hearing that answer, but she chose to ignore what she didn’t understand by taking the conversation in another direction. “May I assume that you have been to the Louvre? It seems that is the first place people want to visit when they arrive here.”
Neal shrugged. “No, actually we didn’t go there. My guidebooks say the lines are a mile long if you don’t arrange tickets ahead of time. But I’m not too bummed because art isn’t my thing.”
“Then, if I may ask, what is ‘your thing,’ Neal?”
“I’m a history buff,” he admitted shyly.
“Ah, so we do have something in common,” she smiled. “I, too, like history, but more specifically, art history. I could have made art more enjoyable for you if I had been your docent during a tour of the Louvre. There is more in that museum than just the Mona Lisa.”
“Yeah, I guess it’s my loss. I would have enjoyed your company very much, Elise, and maybe I do need to broaden my horizons.”
That answer caused his young dinner companion to blush. She seemed even more flustered when her mother added to her embarrassment. “My daughter is not telling you the whole story. She is quite a remarkable artist, and she takes after Nicholas in that regard rather than me. He paints like Michelangelo while my own drawings never improve beyond stick figures.”
“Maman, I’m sure our guests don’t want to hear your biased praise,” Elise begged. The girl showed great poise as she quickly got everything back on track when she turned again to Neal. “I know that you are supposed to leave tomorrow afternoon to return to the United States, but if you can spare a few hours in the morning, I could show you the Louvre’s highlights.”
“But tomorrow is Tuesday, and the guidebooks all say the museum is closed on Tuesdays,” Neal answered.
“It is,” Elise agreed. “But that means there will not be any annoying lines, and we’ll have the place to ourselves.”
“I don’t follow,” the young man said.
“I guess you aren’t aware that my Papa is head of security at the Louvre, and he could let us in as his guests. He’s done that before when other special visitors come to Paris, and I think that you and your family fall into that category.”
Nick heard his daughter offer, and he was nodding his head. “It could be arranged, but don’t steamroll over your new acquaintance, Elise. Give him some latitude to refuse.”
“Oh, I’m not refusing. I think it’s a great idea!” Neal quickly spoke up.
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Ater a sumptuous dinner had ended, six people were now standing on one of the most beautiful bridges in the world. The Pont Alexandre III structure was a Beaux-Arts jewel that displayed flamboyant Art Nouveau lampposts and lavish gilded statues on the pedestrian walkway. Tonight, each wrought iron sentry along the expanse seemed to be encased in a misty halo as they cast wide arcs of illumination on the dark water of the Seine below. It was almost magical.
Peter and Neal chose to sit on a bench watching their families. Elizabeth and Celeste were standing shoulder to shoulder at the railing and talking quietly. Peter’s son and Neal’s daughter had strolled a little farther away, and as they walked their hands brushed each other’s from time to time.
“You could have warned me, you know,” Peter whispered to the man sitting beside him.
“What, and ruin the surprise?” Neal laughed. “I think they say that a picture is worth a thousand words.”
“And they do make a pretty picture, don’t they,” Peter agreed as he nodded toward the young people.
“Yep, I think we did good, Peter,” Neal whispered.
“Yes, we did,” Peter nodded. And after a few minutes of quiet, he spoke again. “These last few days have been wonderful, but I have to ask. Does this mean that I’m not going to see you again for another two decades?”
Neal’s smile looked a little sad this time. “Peter, another reunion probably isn’t in the cards. Just know that I’m happy and I have a good life here.”
Peter shrugged. “I’ve missed you, Buddy. It got easier as time went on, but I keep remembering when you and I were joined at the hip and doing our thing at the Bureau.”
“I know, Peter. It was hard leaving everything behind and starting over. But just know this. It’s like that old saying about a person coming into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. I came into yours for a reason, I stayed for a season, but I’ll remain in your head for a lifetime.”
“Not just in my head, Neal, but in my heart as well,” Peter answered as he stared hard into a friend’s eyes.
Then Peter glanced at two young people standing close by with their heads bent toward each other. “Would I sound like an idiot if I said I don’t think it would be so terrible if those two became an item?”
“An item?” Neal laughed. “My friend, you are really dating yourself. But I think that would have to be a rather long-distance relationship.”
“Well, when I was chasing you, our relationship spanned oceans and continents, and we eventually made it work.”
Neal smiled. “Yes, we did. I suppose if down the road they did become an ‘item’ and took it even further, how would you feel about me being an in-law instead of an outlaw?”
“A very happy man,” Peter answered as he finally embraced Neal in a long overdue hug.