Cartography for Beginners (6 page)

No, a relationship like Leo and Dune's was rare and special. Stuart had certainly never been that close to his own father. It was something unique to Leo, the same reason why Stuart loved to be in this apartment, with these people, at this table. Leo made it feel like home.

The boys cleaned up after they ate and Stuart went to the guest room to hang up his suit for the funeral, as well as the rest of his clothes. Leo joined him after a few minutes. "You're looking contemplative today."

"Am I?" Stuart hung the ties he'd brought over a hanger. "I expect that's weariness. It's been a long day for me already."

"We were thinking of going to a matinee this afternoon, but I can send the others on if you're tired."

"There's no reason for you to stay home if I'm going to take a nap," Stuart pointed out. "I'd like to adjust to the time difference as quickly as possible, though."

"You might take a nap anyway," said Leo. He came to Stuart to sling an arm around his shoulders. "The combination of a dark room, comfy chairs and Ocean's inevitable choice of something foreign and confusing will put you right to sleep."

"Careful, I'm a confusing foreigner." He put his hand on Leo's chest. Leo inhaled in surprise, which Stuart supposed was because it had been too long since he'd been touched. He rubbed his hand slowly over Leo's chest. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Leo breathed and then put his hand over Stuart's. "I'm getting better."

Stuart didn't remove his hand, and neither did Leo. They looked at each other, Leo's hand trembling over Stuart's. Dune had Frances's eyes, a deep, warm brown; while Leo's were green, clear and fresh as a spring morning.

Leo kissed him. It was not the first time they'd kissed each other, of course, they kissed each other hello and goodbye, but this wasn't an "I’m glad to see you" or "be safe" kind of kiss. It was warmer and simpler, and all the while Leo's hand trembled.

They parted at the sound of footsteps, and Ocean stuck her head into the room. "Are you two coming back? We need to leave if we're going to make the two o'clock show."

"We're coming," Stuart said. "I'd love a film."

"So would I," said Leo and gave Stuart an inscrutable look as he followed Ocean.

***

There was a gourmet ice cream shop down the street from the revival house, a funny little place with Victorian wallpaper, delicate wrought-iron tables and chairs, and a jukebox full of ragtime. The owner greeted Leo by name and poured the toppings on their sundaes with a generous hand.

"Ice cream," said Stuart as he contemplated a spoonful of chocolate ice cream and caramel sauce. "I think the last time I ate ice cream I was still in short pants. Gelato, now, I've eaten a lot of gelato."

Leo leaned his head on his hand. "Scared to try it?"

"Nonsense." Stuart put the spoon in his mouth. He leaned back in his chair, his expression as thoughtful as a connoisseur tasting a new vintage of wine as he rolled the ice cream around his mouth. Leo watched, smiling when Stuart smiled. "It's delicious," Stuart announced. "The caramel is creamy and the chocolate is bittersweet. It's not cloying like I expected."

"This is the good stuff," said Leo and picked up his own spoon. "The owner's son took the pictures on the walls."

Stuart looked at the nearest photograph, a black-and-white landscape of the southern California desert. "I think I recognize the photographer."

"Local boy made good," Leo said. "I've known him since he was in college." He was babbling and he knew it, trying to keep the conversation moving so the subject of the kiss wouldn't come up. Stuart hadn't said anything during the walk to the revival house or during the movie, but still, Leo knew it was only a matter of time before they had to discuss it and agree it would never happen again.

It would be a short conversation, he supposed. They'd agree it was a mistake and that would be that; but he couldn't help feel some regret. For a first kiss -- the first "first" kiss he'd had in far too long -- it had been so comfortable and good, not awkward at all. Not until they realized they would be discovered, anyway.

Stuart carved a spoonful from his bowl and held it to Leo's mouth. "Try it."

Leo hesitated, then leaned forward and ate the spoonful of ice cream. It was so cool and rich, and he leaned back as he swallowed. "Very good," he said and licked his lips.

"Yes," Stuart murmured. There was no mistaking it -- his eyes were on Leo's mouth, watching as Leo tasted the remnants of the ice cream. Their eyes met and Stuart inhaled as if he were about to speak.

"Stop flirting, you two," said Ocean, beside them at the little iron table, and Frances giggled.

"Ocean, stop. I've never seen Leo flirt, even when we were dating."

"Ew, Mom," said Dune.

Stuart let out his breath in a quiet rueful laugh and Leo looked down at his bowl. "Who's flirting?" Stuart said easily. "We're sharing." He took a spoonful of Leo's ice cream -- creamy vanilla with chunks of mango and flecks of cinnamon -- and ate it.

Leo had never paid much attention to Stuart's mouth -- or he'd told himself he never paid it much attention -- but it was impossible not to notice how Stuart's lips curled around the spoon, how he licked the corner of his mouth, how he looked at Leo through his lashes and smiled at how Frances and Ocean laughed.

He was teasing them, had to be. It was just Stuart being Stuart. Leo smiled back and said to Frances, "I flirted so subtly you never saw it coming."

"I never saw it, period." She patted his hand. "It's all right, love. Some people don't need flirting to get noticed."

"I think I've been insulted," Stuart said, and they all laughed.

On the walk back to the apartment, Stuart walked between Frances and Ocean with their arms linked, which he said was the gentlemanly thing to do. Micah hung back with Leo and swung his hand. "It's nice having him here, don't you think?"

"Very nice," Leo said.

"You're not the odd man out anymore."

Leo huffed. "Thank you."

"You know what I mean, Leo. I hate seeing you lonely."

"You and everyone else," said Leo with a sigh. "I'm alone, Micah. It's not the same thing as lonely."

They walked in silence for a bit. Micah said, "Ben is Jamie's angel. He's always saying so. And Dune calls me his knight in shining armor all the time. You know what Stuart is?"

"The Beast in an enchanted castle?" Leo guessed and Micah laughed.

"Oo, I like that. That actually fits. But I was thinking he's like the king in stories who puts the girl to all those tests to prove she's a worthy queen, and then marries her in the end."

"Like Prince Charming, you mean," Leo said but Micah shook his head.

"No. Prince Charming is always reactionary. The king is in charge, like Stuart. You have to pass his tests to prove you're worthy."

"Fortunately for me," Leo said, "Stuart's never tested me. Friends, Micah," he said when Micah opened his mouth. "Just friends."

Micah squeezed Leo around the waist. "I think he never stops testing us."

***

"Tomorrow I have to help Jack choose a casket," Leo told Stuart when they were alone that night. He was sprawled on the guest bed, while Stuart sat on the other side, lamp on and a book open on his knees, reading glasses perched on his nose. He looked distinguished -- scholarly, even.

"I'm surprised he didn't join us today."

"I asked him," Leo said and rolled onto his stomach. "He said his brother was coming up to keep him company. I'm more surprised his brother isn't taking him tomorrow."

"So why are you?"

"I told him I'd help him. I've actually known Malcolm longer than he has. He figures I'd know Malcolm's taste better."

"Malcolm's dead," Stuart said and turned a page. "He doesn't care what his casket looks like."

Leo rolled his eyes. "That's what I like about you, Stuart. You're so sentimental."

"I think veneration of the dead is carried to extremes sometimes. My parents were cremated, as is sensible, and I intend to be as well. They'll scatter my ashes over my vineyard." He went on in a softer tone, "In fact, I plan to die there."

"Oh, you planned that, too."

"Of course. I'll be ninety-nine years old, and it'll be a lovely summer's day out by the pool. I'll be watching my handsome young companion have a swim--"

"Of course."

"And I'll be drinking a glass of wine, and then I'll close my eyes and quietly go."

"It'll be awful for your handsome young companion," Leo observed.

"Don't feel too bad for him. He's not even born yet."

Leo chuckled and Stuart smiled, pleased with himself. Leo laid his head on his arms. "Adam and I were going to buy joint plots. We talked about it sometimes, but in the end it was another one of those things we never got around to."

"Don't start," Stuart said sternly. "That man is out of your life."

"I'm just saying," said Leo, "cremation is not an option for everyone. Since Malcolm wanted a proper burial, he's getting one. And I'm helping Jack choose the coffin."

Stuart put the book down. "Don't you ever get tired of being strong for everyone?"

Leo blinked at him. "I don't know what you mean."

"I mean, you're taking care of the funeral for Jack, you're taking care of Dune through this depression of his, you'd take care of the Micah-child if he'd let you, you'd handle Frances and Ocean's move if they asked you to, and the only reason you're not looking after Ben and Jamie is because Ben growls at anyone who comes too close. Stop and take a breath, Leo."

"Ben has never growled at me," Leo began.

"You know what I mean. I'm here to look after you. Let me, for God's sake."

"I am letting you."

"You sent me to bed early because you're worried I have jet lag."

"You didn't protest," Leo pointed out.

"The only reason I'm being so blunt with you is because I'm too tired to be otherwise, that's true. I've been awake over twenty-four hours and sleep is going to hit me any minute. Meantime, I'm laying down the law. You're to rest while I'm here, Leo. I'll go with Jack."

"You barely knew Malcolm."

"He asked me once if I'd ever seen a production in the new Globe, and I was sorry to tell him I had not. I think I can extrapolate from there. And when he was with Jack, I could see they were besotted with each other. They were true minds."

"True minds?" Leo said.

"The sonnet?" Leo must have looked blank because Stuart sighed heavily. "Your education is disgracefully spotty. You've acted Shakespeare -- you should have at least some idea of his poetry. It's the marriage sonnet." He quoted, in a voice meant to carry to the back row, "'Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments. Love is not love that alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove.'"

"Oh," Leo said, "I know what you mean now. I suppose they were. And my education was just fine, even if it was UC San Francisco instead of Cambridge or wherever you went."

"The Sorbonne," Stuart replied and ducked when Leo got onto his knees and swatted him with a pillow. Leo lost his balance and fell onto him heavily, feeling solid muscle and Stuart's big hands wrapping easily around his waist to hold him. They looked at each other, still laughing quietly.

It was pure impulse, to lean forward and press his lips to Stuart's forehead. Stuart swallowed hard and his hands shifted to grip Leo's waist more tightly. Leo kissed across Stuart's forehead and down the side of his face, hands braced on the headboard, and when Stuart tilted back his head, Leo kissed his throat. He rubbed his lips on the pulse point throbbing beneath Stuart's skin, and then with a sigh leaned his head on Stuart's shoulder.

"Leo?" Stuart whispered, broad hands rubbing over his back.

"Sorry," Leo said and climbed off the bed. "I don't want you to be a rebound fling."

"No," Stuart said, studying him. "There hasn't been anyone since Adam?"

Leo shook his head. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm fifty-one years old. And I'm not like you," he went on when Stuart started to protest. "I can't walk into a room and be the one everyone wants. I wasn't when I was young and I'm certainly not now."

Stuart said, "Everyone doesn't have to want you, you know. Just one person."

"That one person is out of my life, as everyone keeps reminding me."

Stuart said, words slow and deliberate, "Somebody new, Leo."

Leo swallowed hard and shook his head. "I don't want somebody new. Don't worry, I won't kiss you again. Good night, Stuart." He went to his room, afraid his emotions would spill over into something regrettable.

Chapter Four

The funeral parlor played a minor-keyed and melancholy piano piece over their PA system as the director took Jack, Stuart and Leo into the showroom. The director was a young man in a conservative black suit, dark hair cut short, and an appropriately somber demeanor. Leo wondered if all this death he dealt with every day gave him that expression, or if he'd gotten the job because he looked melancholy by nature.

Jack had only vaguely remembered Stuart when Leo came to pick him up, but to Stuart it hardly seemed to matter. He was often that way, Leo thought -- if you didn't remember him, he'd make sure you would the next time, and if you didn't know him he'd make you feel like you always had. It was a particular magic Leo had never mastered, but still didn't envy. It must be exhausting, he thought, to always be memorable.

And now Stuart was busy making an impression on the funeral director as he took Jack to the higher quality caskets and made it clear that he was willing to haggle on Jack's behalf. Jack still had the shell-shocked look he'd had since Saturday, so he didn't question Stuart's presence and Leo let Stuart do what Stuart did best.

Leo wandered to back of the showroom while Stuart and the funeral director discussed things like types of wood and velvet versus satin and whether the dearly departed had had any favorite hymns or classical pieces he would have liked played during the viewing, and had a look at the flower arrangements on display. Lilies predominated, of course, and there were blood-red roses and creamy white orchids as well. Leo frowned, trying to remember Malcolm's favorite flower. Malcolm had always seemed partial to smaller, less showy flowers, the ferns and snowberry shrubs that thrived in the damp climate and the honeysuckle vines Malcolm had encouraged to climb up the back of the house.