"Why?"
Leo said, puzzled, "I thought I'd spend my time with you."
"Spending your time with me won't help you move on from Adam. That is the plan for you, correct? I say let the boys find you something young and luscious. A holiday romance will be good for you."
Toast popped up in the toaster. Stuart got down a plate and buttered the toast, perfectly at home, which Leo thought was as it should be. His place should be a second -- or third or fourth, Leo wasn't sure of the exact count -- home for his friend. "Leo," Stuart said, "moving on is a good thing. You should experiment. Do all of the things you haven't done for thirty years."
"If you think that's best." Leo crossed his arms on the bar and rested his chin on them. "Do you think I'd like London?"
"I've always thought you'd like London. It's your type of place. Lots of music and theater." He looked up from his toast. "Are you coming, then?"
"I shouldn't," Leo said. "There's so much going on over the summer. The number of concerts my station is sponsoring alone -- and I still do things for the theater, even if I don't act anymore, advertisements and fundraisers--"
"All right," Stuart said and drank his tea. "If you can't, you can't. Though I think this moving on plan of yours would be simpler if you were away from the familiar -- get to know a new city and new people."
"David Campbell's going to be in London over the summer, shooting a movie." Leo focused on the crumbs on the counter top. "He wants me to come see him. Part of me thinks it sounds like fun to reconnect and see what happens. He kissed me at the open house after the funeral, you see."
"Did he?" said Stuart in a neutral tone.
"It was a perfectly adequate kiss. Didn't set the sky on fire or anything."
Stuart said briskly, "He's not who I'd chose for you, but if you want each other, there's no reason not to explore it. He might make a lovely holiday romance."
"I suppose."
Stuart put down the teacup and placed a warm hand over Leo's. "Leo," he said, his voice serious. "Someday, and I think someday soon, you are going to meet someone who loves you for exactly who you are. Lovely, gorgeous," he smiled that crooked smile, "story-telling Leo. And he's going to make you happy in the way you deserve. I sincerely believe this. No one like you is alone for long." He let go of Leo's hand.
"I'm going to miss you," Leo said. As much as the unspoken
I'm not for you
made him ache, he supposed Stuart had the right idea. "Call me when you get home, even if it's late."
"I will." Stuart's cell phone rang and he answered with a crisp, "Stuart Huntsman." He listened a moment, then said, "Yes, I'll be right down," and hung up. "My cab is here."
Leo got off the stool and went to hug him, maybe even kiss his cheek, but Stuart held out his hand. Leo shook it, clasping the warm fingers tight for as long as Stuart let him. "See you in autumn." He saw Stuart out, and watched from the window as Stuart got into the taxi and it drove away.
Leo got into bed again, and lay awake until it felt like a decent hour. He picked up the phone, but hesitated about who to call as much as about what he wanted to talk about. David, certainly, but more than that, Stuart. It wasn't David he'd wanted to kiss goodbye this morning, after all.
He dialed Frances' number and winced at her sleepy hello. "Did I wake you?"
"Leo? Yes, but it's all right. Are you okay? Is something wrong with Dunie?"
"I'm fine," he assured her. "Dune is fine, as far as I know. I can't sleep and I need to talk to you."
"It must be a crisis." He heard the rustle of bedclothes and Ocean murmuring in the background, and Frances said to her, "It's fine, it's just Leo."
Just Leo,
he thought and dropped his head on to his hand a moment. He was always fine, of course. That's why people turned to him. He was steady, dependable, wise.
Except he wasn't. He hid it better than most people, he supposed.
He heard a door shut, and then Frances said, "Tell me."
"I slept with Stuart last night," he said and braced himself for her reaction.
There was a long moment of silence. "Why?"
Leo laughed shortly. "Because he's hot. No, nothing that flippant. Because I needed to."
"Leo, darling, but why
Stuart
?"
"I thought you liked him."
"I do, I suppose. He's charming. But he's not for you. He's not your kind."
"My kind?" Leo repeated.
"I don't mean it in a bad way. I mean he's -- you were with the same man for twenty-eight years. You need someone who can do that, not someone who gets bored and moves on to the next plaything."
Leo rubbed his forehead. "You're right. I know you're right. I knew you were right before you even said it. But he said my first experience after Adam should be a friend and it sounded like a good idea to me."
"That's actually sweet," said Frances, sounding surprised. "But I wouldn't pin your hopes of a future on Stuart, no matter how much you like him."
"I get it. He's not my kind. But yesterday I kissed David at the open house--"
"Oh, my God, Leo," said Frances with a surprised laugh.
"I know, I know. But afterward all I wanted was Stuart. I've been kissing Stuart a lot this trip. Making out, even."
"I take it you don't normally make out with him when he visits."
"No. This is a new development."
"So," said Frances, "you kissed David, you've been kissing Stuart and had sex with him, and now you can't sleep."
"I forgot to mention the bit where I've decided I'm moving on from Adam."
"Good!" Frances said. "It's time you stopped moping."
"I don't know if I want to move on with David," Leo said. "I don't see us being any kind of long-term thing,"
She said, her tone more serious than it had been, "Who do you see as a long-term thing?"
"I don't know." He added softly, "Stuart's a good kisser."
"Leo," Frances said with a sigh.
"I know," Leo said. "He doesn't think we should be together, either. He thinks I should come to London to have a holiday romance."
"I think he's right," Frances said. "Are you going?"
"I don't know. It seems like a lot of money and time to get me laid."
"And you're doing pretty well without all the effort," said Frances, sounding like she was about to giggle. "I still think getting out of the city will be good for you."
"I'll think about it."
"Other than all the unexpected sex, how did you hold up yesterday?"
"Oh," said Leo with a sigh, "aside from the near-disaster of a funeral? Dandy. The open house was actually okay, and I left Jack in Charlie's capable hands. I saw Adam there, with the boyfriend. Did you talk to them at all?"
"Of course I did," said Frances. "It's hard to end a long-time friendship, no matter what may have caused the rift. He asked me to speak to Dune on his behalf. He misses him."
"Dunie's being pretty stubborn about not talking to him anymore."
"I'm not surprised. He's his father's son." She paused again. "I kept thinking about your father's funeral yesterday. Do you remember?"
"I'll never forget," Leo said. His mother's ashen face, his own numbness, how he'd tried to give a eulogy and ended up sobbing at the podium. One of his uncles read the eulogy from Leo's index cards. "You were amazing. So strong for my mom -- I loved you so much for it."
"Your mother sat beside me through the whole service with her hand on my belly," said Frances.
"I didn't know that. Why?"
"She wanted to feel Dune kick. Everybody needs something life-affirming after a funeral, and for her it was feeling her grandchild kick. I think that's what Stuart was for you, Leo. Proof that you're still alive. I wouldn't look at it as anything more."
"I'm trying to." He shifted, wrapping his arms around himself. "Frannie? Do you think people deserve love?"
"I think everybody deserves love. Well, nearly everybody. Why?"
"I mean, do you think people get the love that they deserve?"
Frances said, "I think... I think we get the love we believe we deserve." Leo stared out the nearest window, watching it go blurry, and Frances said, "Leo? Sweetheart, look, I know it's been rough for you, but believe me, there is someone out there for you, someone wonderful, who will get you and love you and never leave you. I believe this with all my heart. You're not going to be alone forever, even if it feels that way."
"Thank you, Frannie," Leo said and wiped his face with the back of his hand.
"Do you want to come over tonight? We're packing and having pizza."
"Sounds perfect," Leo said, smiling despite the tears that refused to stop falling. "I'll bring Dunie and Micah. Strong young backs to do the lifting and carrying."
"They are always welcome. I love you, Leo. Do you think you can get some sleep now?"
"I'll try," Leo said. "I love you too." He hung up and lay back in his bed, and watched the sun come up through the blinds.
Chapter Seven
Micah was still talking about meeting David Campbell as he and Dune helped empty the attic at Frances and Ocean's house, both of them easily boosting up heavy boxes no matter how often Frances told them to lift with their legs, not their backs. "I can't believe how nice he was," he said as he shoved another box closer to the little ladder from the attic. "And so fucking good-looking -- you'd think some of that was, like, air-brushing or soft-focus but nope, it's all him, and he's, what, forty?"
"Forty-something," Leo said, lifting the box to carry it downstairs far more carefully than either of the boys. "Dune was about eight when David joined the theater troupe."
"I asked him if we could take him to dinner but he said he was going back to L.A. right after the funeral. Although," Micah added, "did you see him talking to that other guy, the cute and quiet one who kept to himself?"
"No," Leo said. "I didn't."
"I think he was picking the guy up," Micah said. "The conversation looked pretty intense." He shook his head. "David Campbell. Picking up a guy."
"Who picked up whom?" said Frances as she came up the ladder.
"The boys are gossiping," Leo said with a sigh.
"Oh, goody, I love good gossip." She sat on the edge of the ladder's opening, her legs swinging. "All the dinner party conversation around here is political or philosophical. Gossip is a perfect antidote."
"David Campbell picked up a guy at the open house," Micah said, and Leo swatted at the back of his head.
"Micah, stop it. David is a friend and we don't need to speculate about his social life."
"Besides," Dune said, "we don't know if it was a pickup. It could have been a reunion. There were a lot of those yesterday -- people who haven't seen each other for years were catching up all around us."
"I'm still dying to know who the guy was," said Frances.
"Max Something," Dune said as he brought a box to her. "I think his name was Max. Big dark eyes, hair going grey, dishy. He kept to himself, like Micah said. He talked to Jack and Charlie for a while, and then he mostly talked to David."
"Observant boy," Frances said fondly and he smiled at her. She stood on the ladder and picked up the box. "How many are left?"
Leo turned to check. "We're down to the last dozen."
"Excellent," Frances said. "Once they're all downstairs you can tell me more about this Max." She grinned at them and carried the box down the ladder.
"Max is hot, too," Micah said and lifted up another box. "For an old guy."
"Thank you very much," Leo said.
"I love you, Leo," Micah said generously and stood up on his toes to kiss Leo's cheek before hurrying down the ladder at a breakneck speed. Leo opened his mouth to tell him to be careful but only sighed, and smiled wearily when Dune patted his back.
"Is it true? Did David Campbell dandle me on his knee?"
"He did," Leo said. "We were in a few plays together. He liked you, but so did everyone. People were incredibly patient with having you around, considering you were the kid of a spear-bearer."
"Oh, Dad," Dune said. "You were more than that. How many of the old guard came to talk to you yesterday? All of them, right? You spent more time talking to people than Jack did."
"I wasn't," Leo said. "I was Malcolm's friend, I guess, but that didn't earn me any preferential treatment."
"Dad," said Dune, shaking his head, and went to get another box without elaborating.
Once all of the boxes were downstairs, the boys and Leo joined the women to go through them and sort what would go with them to Key West, what would be donated and, what would be disposed of. The work was slow-going, since Micah wanted to hear the stories behind every knickknack and Frances was happy to tell them.
There was a lull in all the talk and Micah said, "Leo, did Dune tell you we're going to London with Jamie and Ben in June?"
"He did," said Leo. "I'm glad. A vacation will do you both good."
"We think you should come, too."
"Boys," Leo said, "we've talked about this."
"We haven't," Frances said. "I think it's a splendid idea. Travel is good for the soul. Experiencing new cultures, eating new food, seeing new faces..."
"We're thinking Australia," put in Ocean, "once we've recovered from all this moving madness."
"You should come with us," Frances said. "All three of you. I want to see Uluru."
"But first, London," Micah said. "You need to get out of the city too, and won't it be fun to travel with friends? Think about it, the six of us exploring London. I'll show you all the great places I discovered when I was there and Jamie will show us the places he likes, and Stuart will show us all the cool sophisticated places that I don't know anything about."
Frances said gently, "He's right, Leo, darling. Getting out of the city would be good for you."
"You need a change of scenery as much or more than the rest of us," said Ocean.
Leo gave fond, exasperated looks to the four of them. "You just want me to find a rebound guy."
"Exactly," Dune said. "What better place to find a short-term romance than on vacation?"