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“Papa, Father, come! Hurry!”
Cosette was almost running, holding her skirt above the puddles as she ran. She was in her thirties now, but her face shone with a child's delight as she tossed a grinning glance back at Valjean and Javert.
Javert shot Valjean an amused look, and Valjean laughed, his cheeks flushed with the midday sun.
“What do you say, my love?” Valjean said, smiling at Javert. “Can we keep up with the young?”
Fantine and Georges-Jean, right behind them, took that as a challenge and started to sprint past - but with a mischievous glance at each other, Valjean and Javert swept them up, hoisting the children upon their shoulders.
“Grandpapa, I'm not a baby anymore,” Fantine protested, but when Valjean made to set her down at once, she smiled, and stayed atop his shoulders. Beside them, Georges-Jean rode, laughing, on Javert, peering down at the man’s puffing face as he ran.
“Tired?” Valjean quipped, grinning.
“I'm not the one who lifts two-ton carts off hapless townsfolk,” Javert retorted, but a smile tugged at his lips.
“Oh, look!” exclaimed Cosette. “They're here!”
They'd heard of the Exposition Universelle coming to Paris - it was all the townsfolk could talk of. Valjean and Javert had not intended to go, at first - Javert disliked crowds, and Valjean was content at home - but on their next visit, Cosette had announced her intention to go all together, and the children's excitement had convinced them at once.
They'd gone the previous day, already, to see the magnificent sights everyone spoke of. It had been raining, which relieved Valjean and Javert, as fewer people packed the streets. Cosette, radiant under a pink parasol that guarded against both summer sun and storms, pulled Marius close as they walked; he'd forgotten his umbrella. The children had raced ahead, exuberant - though Fantine, mischief in her eyes, had sought out a particularly deep mud puddle and splashed her brother when he followed. Cosette almost turned to reprimand her - but they both were grinning, and she let it be.
They'd seen the Eiffel Tower, tall as mountains, gawked at the massive balloon that floated far above it, the man inside so small against the sky. They'd ridden the new miniature locomotive - how incredible, that this fair was so large it took a train to travel its length - and beheld the ornate fountains and structures from across the world.
Valjean’s favorite, of course, had been the gardens. He had never seen so many, all verdant and flourishing with countless types of herbs and flowers. Even the nettle was cultivated in one of the herb gardens, he noticed with pleasure. Javert, observing, took his hand, and they shared a smile.
But when it had been time to dine, and they'd ventured to the food pavilion, Fantine tried to hide her disappointment. Everyone had spoken of a delicious frozen treat the fair offered, but the stall where it was sold was empty.
“We’ll come back tomorrow,” Cosette promised, and Fantine shot her a grateful smile.
True to her word, they all had come the next day, and the sun at last arrived, peering out from between the clouds. When they reached the pavilion, Valjean and Javert set down the children, grinning and breathless, and with a look of permission from their parents, they made haste to the stall.
“It's magical,” Georges-Jean exclaimed, peering at the many-colored concoctions on display. Four flavors were available - chocolate, pistachio, lemon, and peach, at which the children marveled. Fantine picked lemon; Georges-Jean, chocolate. Marius and Cosette shared a cup of pistachio, kissing between every few bites. Valjean and Javert tried to demur, saying they were well sated from lunch, but Cosette insisted, and so they found themselves with cups in hand. Valjean had chosen peach. He'd been unsure of which to choose, appearing nervous at the prospect of the decision. Javert had spoken for him; he could see which flavor he had been eyeing, however subtle he had been. For himself, Javert selected lemon.
At the first bite, Valjean gasped. The taste of fresh peaches filled his mouth, as sweet as if he'd just plucked it from the tree. He turned to Javert in wonder; Javert was similarly amazed, blinking as the sharp scent of lemon suffused his nose and melted in his mouth.
“It's marvelous, grandpapas,” Georges-Jean declared, looking to them with delight. Fantine, her mouth full, nodded, eyes closed in bliss.
“Do you like it, Papa, Father?” Cosette smiled at them, eyes sparkling.
“Oh, yes,” Valjean managed, still agog at the concoction. Javert nodded at her, a small smile on his lips. What a world, Valjean marveled, where such delights as this exist! But, at once, a pang of guilt shot through him. In this world, too, so many struggled for even bread. And he, here, enjoyed this luxury?” He grimaced, and Javert caught the expression, his eyes softening.
“You can take joy in it, you know,” Javert said quietly, taking his hand. “You deserve it - and look, how happy it makes the children.”
Valjean exhaled, and smiled, meeting Javert’s eyes in gratitude, then turning them upon the rest, who chatted, smiled, and ate, delight on every face. Javert squeezed his hand.
“How have we been so blessed?” Valjean whispered in wonder, eyes locked on their family, their joy. “Could you have imagined it?”
Javert smiled, caressing Valjean’s knuckles with his thumb.
“Never, for most of my life.” He raised his eyes to Valjean, adoration in his face.
“Not til I knew you.”
At the Exposition Universelle, marvels abounded. They'd see them all, over the course of the summer months. But to Valjean and Javert, no sight was as wonderful as this: Fantine, Georges-Jean, Marius, Cosette. Their beloved ones, their family. It was a gift unfathomable, that overwhelmed them every day, this life, this boundless love.
To love, and to be loved.
It was enough.