Gustave waited at the little coffee shop across the street from the opera for Lucas.
"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, Gustave. I had some busy to attend to," Lucas explained.
"Don't worry yourself on the matter. Consider it forgotten," Gustave shrugged.
"I have something very important I need to tell you."
"What is it, Luke?"
"I proposed to Monique and she said yes. Gustave, I'm getting married!" Lucas exclaimed.
"Married? That's wonderful," Gustave exclaimed.
"Will you be my best man?"
"Of course, Luke. Nothing would make me happier. You know, I'm really proud of you. Marriage is a big step. I know how difficult it was for you to accept that Celeste isn't here to go to your wedding."
"It was very difficult. I still miss her every day."
"I miss her too. She wasn't just my ex-girlfriend. She was my friend, and a great one at that."
"Celeste would have loved Monique. I just know she would have."
"Me too," Gustave replied. "Enough talk of Celeste. You're getting married. This is cause for celebration!"
"How should we celebrate?" Lucas asked.
"Let's go grab a drink," Gustave suggested.
"I'll have a large coffee," Lucas told the barista.
"I'll have the same," Gustave said. "Are you nervous?"
"Very much so, but it's worth it to marry Monique."
"Tell me, how did you propose?"
"I took her to the fancy restaurant on Main Street. We sat down to dinner, and after I gave a little speech, I pulled the ring out of my pocket, I took her hand in mine, and I said, 'Monique Cartier, will you marry me?' and she said yes. Afterwards, we went for a stroll around the park. The entire night was magical."
"You really love her, don't you?"
"I do. I really do."
"How does Christy feel about all this?"
"From what I know, she's doing okay. The child hardly ever tells me anything, so I'm usually left in the dark."
"Maybe you need to talk to her, or at the very least, remind her that she can tell you about anything."
"That's a good idea. Thanks, Gustave."
The men talked for hours and after a while, Lucas announced that he had to leave. He wanted to have the chance to talk to Christy.
Gustave went back home and Bella greeted him with a kiss.
"Gustave! Demetrius isn't talking. I think something's wrong. Is he sick? Is he dying? Should we take him to the doctor?" Bella asked frantically.
"Bella, he's fine. You know how he is," Gustave replied.
"Fine. Go talk to him."
"Okay," Gustave said. He was already halfway down the hallway, on his way to his son's room. He knocked on the door. "Demetrius, can I come in?"
"Sure," came the sad, little reply.
"What's wrong, kid?" The father asked as he opened the door.
"I never get to do anything fun," Demetrius complained. "Nobody will take me places because I look funny."
"You do not look funny. Besides, they do it for your own protection. There are bad people that look for children who look like you," Gustave explained.
"Really?" Demetrius asked.
"They're called gypsies. I don't know much about them, but I'm sure your grandfather would be more than happy to tell you about them."
"Okay. Thanks, Father."
Gustave took this as a cue to leave the room.