“He still has attentive blue eyes and a shiny, accommodating face. Round, slow-moving, bald as an oyster; a reassuring, unlawyerly presence. It surprises Faith how happy she feels to be near him. Although they have never been out of touch, she has seen him face to face only once since her wedding, when Ben was just a toddler. Armand had taken it into his head one fall to do a foliage tour and turned up on her doorstep. She showed him to the Fullers as if he were the generous, forthcoming, hidden... part of herself. See? she wanted to say to them. See? Here they are again, more than ten years later. Connie is standing near him, her hands clasped inside-out, the stance she used as a child. Armand shakes the boys’ hands. “You won’t remember me,” he says to Ben, “but I remember you.” He beams at Faith. “He spent most of my visit varooming around the yard in some kind of homemade contraption.” Chris laughs. “My father’s go-cart. It’s still in the basement. Dad can’t stand to get rid of anything with wheels.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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