Cartography for Beginners (33 page)

"It sounds much, much better to me," Leo said. Not being too depressed to write was a great step forward. Frances whooped into the phone when he told her, and promised they'd come out to California to visit before the summer was over.

"Did you enjoy England?" she asked Leo. "Did you meet a handsome English boy like they wanted you too?"

"I did to both," said Leo. "Holiday romance. Holiday fling, anyway. Frannie, I need more advice."

"Danger, danger," she said with a laugh. "Tell me."

"Stuart said he loves me."

She was silent. "I can't say I'm surprised."

"You can't?"

"You're easy to love, Leo, my darling."

"I'm not sure he meant it. He asked me to move in with him, and then in the next breath told me I never would. Then he said he loves me
then
told me to come home and find someone who deserves me. What does that even
mean
?"

"You know," Frances said, "our Stuart has always struck me as lonelier than he likes to let on. Maybe there are reasons for that, like he doesn't expect people to care about him even when they do. Did you tell him you love him, too?"

"No," Leo said. "I don't think that I do. I mean, I like him a lot and we have a great time together unless he gets prickly, but loving him -- it never crossed my mind."

Frances paused again. "Leo, don't tell me that you're still in love with Adam."

"I'm not telling you that."

"Leo," she said warningly.

"I still miss him," Leo said. "This trip was supposed to help me move on and it hasn't, not really. I still want Adam back. I know I shouldn't, but I-- I'm used to him."

"Used to him," said Frances. "Oh, Leo."

"I know," Leo said, pressing his hand to his eyes. "I know."

One good thing about their holiday was that Dune was writing again; another was that Dune and Adam had started to communicate. Emails, Dune told Leo, and they didn't talk about anything too deep or personal yet, but they knew what was going on in each other's lives. "I guess meeting Jean-Claude did me more good than it did Stuart," Dune said. "I don't want to be like them, Dad. I don't want to be cold to Adam. I don't want to be bitter."

"Neither do I," Leo said. "I guess we're not entirely broken."

He didn't know what he was going to do about Jean-Claude and Tallis' wedding. The formal invitation arrived a few days after they came home, printed on creamy card stock in brown ink, with an additional card saying they were invited to the entire day of festivities. Stuart didn't want him to come, Tallis did, and he supposed Jean-Claude was conceding to Tallis's wishes in the matter. Attending was no financial hardship; it was more a matter of whether he wanted to see Stuart again or not.

He did. He wanted to talk to Stuart, have it out with him, and settle things somehow. Surely four years of friendship wasn't worth throwing away over a simple misunderstanding.

Though, when he thought about it as he often did, he wondered who had misunderstood whom.

***

Every year, Stuart went to the family vineyard in Champagne on holiday. He supposed it was unimaginative of him -- he could conceivably go anywhere in the world, as exotic as Madagascar or as familiar as California -- but the vineyard was his favorite place to be. It was quiet, it was beautiful, and it gave him a feeling of connection and solidity that he couldn't find anywhere else.

The plan had been originally to go two weeks before Jamie's exhibition in Paris opened, and go back after for Jean-Claude's wedding and spend the remainder of the summer there; but a few days after Jamie and Ben left, Stuart realized he couldn't bear London another moment. Deborah could handle what needed handling at the gallery, so Stuart phoned his caretaker and told him to have the chateau ready by the weekend, and was on the next ferry to Calais in the morning.

His first stop was Paris. Amelie and her husband lived there, and while he could go straight out to the country, he wanted to see them, perhaps even see Gabriel, before he retreated from other people entirely for a while. Amelie had given him the address, and it bemused him to see that she lived not ten minutes' walk from his own Paris gallery.

Even knowing he was invited, Stuart still hesitated. It was one thing for someone to say, "Drop by any time," but quite another for them to actually open the door and welcome him in. Out of all of his children, Amelie was the most willing to reconcile with him, but that could change.

He wished Leo were with him. It'd be easier to walk up to that door and ring the bell if Leo were beside him.

He's not,
Stuart told himself ruthlessly,
and he never will be.
He got out of the car.

"Stuart!" Amelie cried when she answered his knock. Her red hair was piled at the top of her head and she wore an oversized men's shirt, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, over a pair of denim shorts. She looked about fifteen. She threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. "I didn't think we would see you until August!"

"I decided to get away early." He buried his face in her neck, where she smelled like soap and baby powder. "I must be interrupting something."

"Housework," she said and brought him inside, chattering as she led him to the kitchen. "Would you like a coffee? I will need to wash up. The baby is napping but I will bring him down as soon as he's awake."

"I'd love a coffee." The house was tidy and bright, with scattered corners of toys, flowers, piles of books and sturdy furniture. Stuart could feel himself relaxing already.

"Sit," she said, gesturing to the little bar in the kitchen, so Stuart sat and rested his chin on his hands while she poured them both coffee from a silver percolator and brought out the cream and sugar. "How long are you in Paris?"

"Just for the night. I'm driving out to the chateau in the morning. I suppose I could tonight, but there were a few things I wanted to do here first." He topped off his cup with cream.

Amelie smiled. "Like see me and Gabriel?"

"Yes," Stuart said. "Like that. And meet your husband -- is he home?"

"He is doing the shopping. He will return shortly." She leaned her head on her hand, looking at him with frank blue eyes. "Tell me why you came to France weeks before you planned."

"I had to get out of London." She waited as he drank. "You remember my friend Leo."

"I do. Is he with you?" Amelie peered around him as if he'd left Leo in the car.

"Oh, no, he went home to California a few days ago." He had another drink. The coffee was strong and bittersweet, a flavor that lingered on the back of his tongue. "I said a few things to him that I shouldn't have."

"You fought?" When she frowned, there was a wrinkle over her nose that reminded him of Joelle.

"No," Stuart said. "I asked him to move in with me and told him I loved him."

Amelie tilted her head. "And..."

"And he didn't take me seriously." Stuart drank the rest of his coffee. It was a tiny cup, utterly unlike the enormous mugs Leo kept in his cupboard. "I told him to go home and find someone who deserves him."

"Why would he not take you seriously?"

Stuart paused. "It was at a rather intimate moment."

"Oh." Amelie winced. "I'm sorry, Stuart."

"Don't be. I'm all right, and he'll be happier with someone else. But I needed to get out of London for a while and I don't expect I'll go to California again anytime soon."

The sound of crying came through the baby monitor. Amelie raised her eyes to the ceiling. "My master speaks. We are not done here," she told Stuart as she rose from the bar, and then hurried upstairs.

"Yes, ma'am," Stuart said behind her, and then put the cup down because his hands were suddenly shaking.
My grandson,
he thought, and once again wished Leo was there to share the moment with him.

A few minutes later, after Stuart had picked up and put down the cup a few times, Amelie returned to the kitchen with the little boy in her arms. He was small and sturdy, with eyes like Amelie's and curly blond hair, pink-faced from his nap. He stopped his babbling to Amelie at the sight of Stuart and stared at him, and then hid his face in Amelie's neck.

"Don't be shy, Gabriel," she said, patting his back. "This is your grandfather, my papa. Can you say hello?"

"Hello, Gabriel," Stuart said softly, utterly entranced with the boy's chubby cheeks and clenched toes. He looked like Jean-Claude at that age. "I don't spend a lot of time around children, Amelie."

"It's all right. Remember they're literal at this age and his vocabulary is still small." As she spoke, she put Gabriel into a booster chair at the breakfast table. Gabriel kept his eyes on Stuart, peering around her. She kissed his forehead. "Would you like some milk?" He nodded and she patted his cheek. "Talk to him," she said to Stuart and went to prepare Gabriel's snack.

There were some little toys on the table -- thick plastic cars and a stuffed giraffe, blocks painted with pictures and letters -- so Stuart steered one of the cars closer to Gabriel with his fingers. Gabriel's lip started to quiver, so Stuart pushed another car to him, this time saying, "Vroom."

Gabriel regarded him, then pushed the car back toward Stuart with a gleeful, "Vroom!"

Stuart laughed and glanced at Amelie, who was slicing a banana as slowly as possible, and this time drove two cars to Gabriel with appropriate sound effects. Gabriel grabbed one and held it out to Stuart, so Stuart took it and said, "Thank you," before parking it next to the giraffe.

"The giraffe is called Sophie," Amelie said as she brought over a plate with banana slices and tiny cubes of cheese. "She squeaks when you squeeze her." Gabriel picked up a slice of banana and offered it to her, so she took it and thanked him before popping it into her mouth. "You'll stay for supper, won't you, Stuart?"

"I wouldn't want to intrude on your evening. I should get to my hotel soon."

Amelie gave him a reproving look. "You'll stay with us," she decided. "We have plenty of room and it won't make your journey any longer. Marc will agree."

Stuart looked at Gabriel, and Gabriel solemnly held out a banana slice. "I'd love to," Stuart said and took it.

***

Leo's phone rang, and he tucked it between his jaw and shoulder with an absent, "Leo Bellamy," as he briefly glanced up from his paperwork.

"Leo, it's Adam."

Oh.
Leo took his hands from the keyboard and leaned back in his chair. "Hi."

"Hi. Dune's told you we've been talking a bit, hasn't he?"

"He's told me."

"Good, I'm glad." He breathed in. "I've wanted to talk to you, too. I've... missed talking to you."

"About what?"
Short answers,
he thought,
fewer words to keep emotion in check.

Adam laughed shortly. "Our lives, our thoughts, all the things we used to talk about." He paused again. "Can't we still be friends, Leo?"

"I've spent the last year trying to figure that out."

"And?"

"And I don't know. I don't know if I want to be your friend, or if I can. If you and Dune get along, that's enough."

"Is that what you really believe?" Adam said softly.

He stopped to breathe, closing his eyes. "I believe I want you back with every fiber of my body. I miss you."

"Let's meet at your place," Adam said.

"Adam--"

"Raphael's sweet but he's not you. There were so many good times, weren't there? We could have that back," Adam said urgently. "Only better. You and me again, Leo. Think of it. I miss your body," he said, voice dropping lower. "Don't you miss mine?"

Leo swallowed hard and whispered, "I get off at six."

"I'll be there at five after."

Leo whispered, "Okay," and hung up, and sat there, trembling, for several minutes. He hadn't felt this way since -- since Stuart, completely overwhelmed with desire. He took a few deep breaths and tried to return to work, but it was impossible to concentrate, not with the promise of Adam --
Adam!
-- touching him again in a few hours.

Finally Leo told his assistant, "I'm knocking off early, I'll see you tomorrow," and shut everything down. It took all of his concentration to drive home, and he ran up the stairs to his apartment.

Micah was in front of the door, scribbling a note against it, and then he stopped and beamed at Leo. "Hey! I was coming down to invite you to dinner with us tonight. Want to come?"

"Sorry," Leo said. "I have plans."

"Oh! Hot date?"

"You could say that."

"Cool! With who? Did Stuart surprise you with a visit? It wouldn't surprise me if he did. He said he had to get out of London for a while, last time we talked."

"He did," Leo said. "Oh. No, no, it's not Stuart. I don't expect to see him again anytime soon."

"That's too bad," Micah said. "So who's your date? It's not David Campbell again, is it? Is he in town?"

"It's not David," Leo said, itching to get his key in the lock.

Micah frowned at him, and then said, "Oh, Leo."

"What?"

"It's not Adam, is it?" Leo didn't answer, and Micah said again in a terribly disappointed voice, "Oh, Leo. Don't tell me we need to remind you of how he treated you."

"I remember," Leo said. "We're just going to talk."

"No, you're not," Micah said. "If you were just going to talk, you'd go out somewhere, but you're not going out."

"Crossing the line, Micah."

"Ask him one question for me, okay? Ask him if Raphael knows he's here."

"Of course Raphael knows. I'm sure they're breaking up right now if they haven't already."

"Ask him," Micah said. "I'm calling you later, and don't think I won't." He turned to go upstairs.

"If I'm your favorite, how come you're so mean to me?" Leo called after him.

"Friends don't let friends be stupid," Micah said over his shoulder.

Leo shook his head and let himself into the apartment, finally. He changed his shirt and was running his hand over his stubble, wondering if he had time to shave, when the doorbell rang. It made his heart thud in his chest, but he managed to walk calmly to the door and not rip it open to let Adam in.