He explained to Toni, “It is a local dish, duckling cooked in Calvados and stuffed with apples.” “Sounds delicious.” And it was.
During luncheon, they filled each other in on their pasts. “So. You’ve never been married?” Toni asked.
“No. And you?” “No.” “You have not found the right man.” Oh, God, wouldn’t it be wonderful if it were that simple. “No.”
They talked of Quebec City and what there was to do there. “Do you ski?” Toni nodded. “I love it.”
“Ah, bon, moi aussi. And there is snowmobiling, ice-skating, wonderful shopping...”
There was something almost boyish about his enthusiasm. Toni had never felt more comfortable with anyone.
Shane Miller arranged it so his group attended the convention mornings and had their afternoons free.
“I don’t know what to do here,” Alette complained to Toni. “It’s freezing. What are you going to do?”
“Everything.” Toni grinned. “A più tardi.” Toni and Jean Claude had lunch together every day, and every afternoon,
Jean Claude took Toni on a tour. She had never seen any place like Quebec City.
It was like finding a turn-of-the-century picturesque French village in North America.
The ancient streets had colorful names like Breakneck Stairs and Below the Fort and Sailor’s Leap.
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