Cartography for Beginners (17 page)

"Modernist," put in Jamie.

"Shakespeare?" Leo said.

"Stratford," Micah said and patted his hand. "We can take a side trip if you want."

Leo threw up his hands. "I don't have any more idols. I'll stick to seeing plays." He resumed eating, then added, "It's too bad Malcolm wasn't cremated. Scattering some of his ashes at Shakespeare's grave might have pleased him."

Dune took his hand for a quick squeeze. "You're going to have a good time here, Dad. Even if you are a fuddy-duddy."

"Love you too, son," Leo said with a sigh.

Once they had eaten, Leo volunteered to help Glenys clean up, and Jamie surprised him by offering to help, too. Since the other boys had places they wanted to go they all went upstairs to get ready, while Leo was wrist-deep in dish water and Jamie dried and put away.

"How are you doing?" Leo said to Jamie quietly, as Glenys dusted picture frames and books in the other room. "How does it feel to be home?"

Jamie shook his head. "San Francisco is home. But it's nice to visit London again. I think the real question is going to be what it will be like to be in Manchester again."

"Are you still planning to go?"

"I think so."

"Stuart doesn't think you should," Leo said.

"You told Stuart?"

"He worries about you. I do, too, but I still think you should go. Of course, I also think you should bring Ben with you. You may need the moral support."

"I don't know, Leo."

"They're your family, and that makes them his family, too. They need to know he makes you happy."

Jamie rubbed his jaw, hand scraping over his stubble. "I don't think they're interested in what makes me happy. I would have stayed in Manchester if they were."

Leo put his arm around Jamie's shoulders and leaned their heads together. "They're your parents. They should know you're okay."

"You don't think meeting Ben would be too much?"

"Not if you want them to know about your life -- your burgeoning career, the wonderful city where you live, and the great guy you share your life with."

Jamie's eyes grew tender. "He is pretty great, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Leo said softly. Jamie smiled and picked up the next dish.

Chapter Ten

Stuart had mailed the letter to Jean-Claude as soon as he returned from California, but had heard nothing yet in response. It was only to be expected, he supposed. If Jean-Claude only intended to invite Stuart to his wedding, then the only communication between them need be the invitation itself. Stuart was not going to push Jean-Claude into anything more.

Meanwhile, he'd been occupied with preparing for Jamie's exhibition: while his assistants and workmen did the actual uncrating of sculptures and paintings, and designing how they should be displayed, there was still his approval to give on everything from the advertisements to the order of artworks as visitors moved through the gallery.

Now that Jamie was here and opening night was approaching, there was only an original mural for Jamie to create. He had sent Jamie the dimensions of the space and photographs of the light at various times of day, as Jamie requested, but had not asked Jamie to send him the sketches. He wanted to be surprised, and suspected Jamie would prefer he were, too.

He found it difficult to think about even Jamie this morning. Jamie's talent and skill could speak for itself; it needed only to be presented properly, and Stuart had been promoting artists for close to three decades now. He knew how to do it properly -- he could do it in his sleep. He knew some fine art websites had approached Simon, Jamie's agent in the States, about licensing his work to sell as posters and prints. Stuart had a few friends who were considering commissioning Jamie to create artwork for their offices or homes, and once they did -- and he was certain they would -- it would lead to more, to Jamie establishing himself as an artist of note, perhaps even as a household name if he consented to allowing more of his work on T-shirts and dorm room walls. The angel portrait of Ben was already approaching Klimt's
The Kiss
in terms of popularity, according to Simon.

Leo had brought Jamie to Simon's attention to begin with. Stuart wondered if Leo had any idea what he had begun with that meeting.

That the odd juxtaposition of thinking about Jean-Claude led to thinking about Jamie was not lost on Stuart, nor was the fact that all paths seemed to lead back to Leo today. He had kicked Leo out of bed like an unwelcome guest the night before, and run out of the house before Leo was awake like a coward.

The trouble was, Leo unsettled him so. He had looked down at Leo's face and seen something so pure, lovely and sweet in those green eyes, something he couldn't recall a lover looking at him with for years, and it had been more than he could bear. No, it was better to keep Leo from getting attached to him now, so that Leo could find that lifelong partner he longed for, than pin his hopes on Stuart who'd failed both times he'd tried to commit to someone. If Jamie thought all of this effort was Stuart attempting to assuage his guilt over their breakup, he wasn't far wrong.

If he attended Jean-Claude's wedding out of guilt, he supposed there were worse reasons.

He would have to apologize to Leo eventually. Leo was forgiving, but even his kind heart had its limits. Adam was proof of that. If Stuart explained, Leo would surely see the wisdom of this plan -- they could remain friends while Leo found someone to love him forever, and everyone would be happy.

"Mr. Huntsman," said his assistant in a patient tone, as if she'd been calling his name for some time. Stuart put aside the advertisement proofs he'd been staring at and tried to smile.

"Deborah. My apologies."

"I understand." She put a folder of documents on his desk. "You have visitors. I'm sure you'd rather be with them than here. Why don't you go home and let me handle things? I'll call if I need your input."

"They're coming here, actually, sometime before lunch. You'll finally get to meet Mr. Makepeace."

"I'm looking forward to it." She paused. "Would you like a cup of tea? Would that help?"

"Yes," Stuart said. "It would." She went to the silver kettle and tea tray at the other end of his office, and he said, "Deborah, do you consider yourself a forgiving person?"

"I hope I am," she said. "I try to be. Have you done something I need to forgive you for?"

"Quite probably. I'm skilled at offending my friends."

Deborah brought him the tea cup and saucer. "Friends forgive," she said as he took them. "There's a saying -- oh, what is it--" She looked at the ceiling a moment. "'Love is blind, and friendship closes its eyes.' I'm sure whatever you've done, Mr. Makepeace will forgive you once he sees all the effort you've made to promote him."

"I don't want to buy forgiveness," Stuart murmured, frowning, and had a sip of tea. Deborah had made him something herbal rather than black -- to calm him, he supposed. She was probably right to.

"I don't mean that I think you've bought him."

"No, no, I know what you mean. Jamie has forgiven me for a great many things, even before all of this. It's actually not him that I'm worried about."

"Sorry," she said. "I assumed since you were looking at the proofs that you were thinking of him."

"Not this time." He sipped the tea.

Deborah waited a moment, and then said, "I'll let you know as soon as Mr. Makepeace and his friends arrive."

"Thank you." He added, "You are greatly appreciated. I hope you know that."

"I do," she said. "I have nothing to forgive you for today." She left his office, closing the door with a quiet click.

Stuart thought she would side with Leo if she knew the whole story. There was one thing to do, he decided, and when Deborah opened the door to tell him Mr. Makepeace and his party had arrived, he resolved to do it.

Stuart went to the main gallery, where the full force of Jamie's art was on display. The boys' faces were full of awe, even Ben's, and he seemed determined not to be impressed with anything. Jamie tilted back his head to take in the light and space, and then he paced the length of the gallery, taking in every painting and sculpture.

"Well?" Stuart said finally as Jamie's silence went on. "What do you think?"

Jamie turned to Stuart, his hands behind his back, and broke into a broad smile. "It's brilliant. It's more than I imagined. You've even got pieces from private collectors -- that must have cost a fortune in insurance."

"I'm not worried about making the money back." He crossed his arms, smiling as Dune and Micah went from picture to picture, holding hands and whispering to each other.

Dune turned to Jamie. "I don't think I've ever seen so much of your stuff at once since your first big show."

"It doesn't happen often." Jamie went to Ben and slid an arm around his waist. "Benjie?"

Ben hugged him with one arm and kissed his hair. "I'm proud of you," he said quietly. "Look at what you can do. It's amazing."

Only Leo hadn't spoken, and still stood near the archway that separated the long gallery from the main entrance, taking it in. Stuart hesitated, and then said to him, "What do you think?"

"I think," Leo said slowly, "I feel like Emily Dickinson." Stuart had no idea what that meant, and Leo explained, "Like the top of my head is being taken off."

"Is that good?"

"It's perfection."

"Indeed," Stuart said, and was relieved when Deborah joined them. "Deborah, why don't you tell Mr. Makepeace about the details -- the food and music and so on? He might have some thoughts about that."

"Of course," she said and went to Jamie and Ben, her portfolio of printed plans under her arm.

"Show me around," Leo said to Stuart and took his hand. "There's so much of Jamie's art that I've never seen."

"All right." He took his hand from Leo's, ignoring the brief hurt that passed over Leo's face, and directed him to the front of the gallery. After a few minutes Ben drifted over to join them, and when Stuart paused, expecting him to offer some input into the work, Ben said, "Go on. I'm curious about what professionals think."

"Generally," Stuart said, "he's well-received. Perspective, subject matter, composition -- he's well-versed in all of those."

"But," said Ben and Stuart glanced at him as Leo laid a hand on Ben's back.

"But he's young," said Stuart. "Many critics feel his best work is ahead of him."

"Stand down," Leo told Ben softly, and Stuart could see Ben make an effort to uncoil.

"Sorry," Ben said. "This whole thing is making him so nervous. He's hardly been sleeping for weeks."

"You don't have to protect him here," Stuart said.

"Don't I?" said Ben, a challenge in his eyes and the set of his shoulders, and again Leo laid his hand on Ben's back. "I didn't think he'd ever want to come back, actually. But here we are."

"At least it'll give him some closure," Leo said gently.

"Or reopen old wounds."

Stuart said, "I doubt there are any old wounds to open. Besides, you'll be moving on to Paris soon enough. I'm sure his memories of France are quite pleasant."

"I wish I could go," Leo said. "I'd love to see Paris in the summer. All those songs about Paris when it sizzles, I want to see if there's any truth to them."

"That's why I usually summer at the vineyard."

"But this year you'll be in Paris, right? For your son's wedding?"

Stuart shifted his gaze from Ben's stormy face to Leo's, wondering what he was getting at. "I don't know yet where the wedding itself will be."

Ben said, "You've got a kid?" as if he couldn't believe it.

"I have three," said Stuart. "Nicole, Amelie and Jean-Claude. Jean-Claude is the one getting married. I haven't decided yet if I'm going."

"What, you don't like the girl?" said Ben.

"I haven't met the girl. I assume she's perfectly presentable."

Ben said, "So let me get this straight. You have three kids, old enough to have lives of their own, and you don't tell anyone about them? And you don't even talk to them?" He shook his head with a wry, patronizing chuckle.

Stuart looked away again, his mouth set. Leo said, "Ben, I'm this far from asking you to leave."

Ben's jaw worked, and he said quietly, "Sorry, Stuart. That was uncalled for."

Stuart nodded once. "Accepted."

Leo watched Ben and said to Stuart, "Tell us more about what you've planned for the show."

"Gladly," Stuart said and told them about who he'd invited and what arrangements Deborah had made until Ben grew bored and went back to Jamie.

Once he was gone Stuart said, "I can't remember the last time someone came to my rescue like that."

"I like Ben, but sometimes he's... well."

"Overly protective and a trifle possessive?" said Stuart. Leo chuckled, not denying it. "Am I doomed to always be the villain of the piece?"

"Not when I tell the story."

"Well, you are a true friend," Stuart said and patted Leo's back. He meant it to be only a pat, anyway, but instead his hand lingered and Leo gave him a hungry look through his dark lashes. Stuart moved his hand to the small of Leo's back and guided him out of the gallery to his office. This got a wry smile from Leo, but Stuart ignored it as he shut the door.

"Finally," Leo said and took hold of Stuart's face as Stuart pressed him against the door and kissed him.

"You're impossible," Stuart said and sank his teeth into Leo's lip.

"I know," Leo replied. He tipped back his head as Stuart kissed his neck. "If only Ben knew how little he has to worry about with you..."

"No more talk," Stuart said, and Leo obliged, contented to keep their mouths otherwise occupied.

When they'd kissed their fill, they went back into the gallery separately, though Stuart thought the boys would know they'd been snogging anyway from their flushed cheeks and bitten mouths. Snogging -- when was the last time he'd wanted to just kiss someone? Or been satisfied with just kissing someone, anyway, because he knew when they got home he would go to Leo's room or Leo would come to his and they would have more of that electric sex that they both craved.