Senses 03 - Love Comes Home (DA) (MM) (5 page)

“He wanted to try out for football, but he wasn’t the right build. I played when I was young, but I wasn’t the right build either.” Greg sipped from his water glass. “I didn’t want him to play. Being physical is one thing, but that game is way too hard on young bodies. It may sound un-American, but I wanted him to take part in less dangerous sports.”

“You’re a father and you worry about your son,” Tom said. “I know I’d be wary of letting my kid do some of the things my dad let me do.”

“Did you grow up here?” Greg asked.

“Gosh, no. We lived outside Grand Rapids, and I went to Columbia for school. After college, I stayed in New York for almost four years. It was one long party. When it was time to grow up, I decided to leave New York and settle somewhere else. My parents had brought me here on vacation when I was a kid, so I looked into it and moved here a couple years ago.”

The server brought their beer and a plate of bread.

“My friends think I’m crazy because they’re still so into the club scene and New York night life. But I’m over it. I moved here because I wanted a home. I’ve had friends visit and they love it for a few days. Then the slow pace and quiet starts to get to them.” Tom chuckled. “How about you?”

“I grew up outside town. My folks had a farm that they lost in the eighties. Dad borrowed too much for too many years, and in a drought year, there was no money. Everything was auctioned off, and I dreamed of being a professional baseball player. It was what kept me going and what got me to college. I got scholarships and borrowed the rest of the money. I was even scouted and got an offer.” Now, he knew he’d made the right choice. But at the time it had been a hard decision.

“So you were out of school when you had Davey.”

“Yeah. Like you, I came here in search of a home. In my case, it was more for Davey. As my reputation grew, I found that people would seek me out, so I didn’t need to be in a huge city.” Greg sipped his beer. “What surprised me was the arts and sense of community here.”

“The university helps with that somewhat, but so do people like Ken, who is a nationally known artist and helped put this area on the map,” Tom said.

There was a glint in Tom’s eyes, and Greg wondered what it meant. He was about to ask when their server brought their entrees, and Greg turned his attention to food. His pesto smelled amazing, and his stomach rumbled in anticipation.

“Gosh,” Greg said after taking the first bite. He tried not to roll his eyes and failed.

“I know. After all that time in New York with great Italian food, this place beats them all. I asked once, and they said they use their great-grandmother’s recipes. Their sauces are all made from scratch, and they only use the best ingredients.”

“It shows,” Greg agreed. His phone vibrated in his pocket and then stopped right away, indicating a text message. He pulled out his phone and saw that Davey was having a good time. He sent him a quick response and then placed the phone upside down on the table. “Just Davey saying he’s having fun. Ken asked if he could use Davey in one of his paintings.” The phone buzzed again. “Ken is sketching him.”

“That’s cool,” Tom said.

“Davey asked him to not include his glasses. He’s worn them for a few years, but the ones he has now are so thick. He hates them, but can’t see much at all without them.” The phone vibrated a few more times, and then Greg sent Davey a message to have a good time and the messages stopped. “I’m not sure what to talk about,” Greg confessed.

“How about sex?” Tom asked, and Greg nearly sprayed beer over the table. “See, that’s always a subject everyone has lots to say about. I don’t know about you, but I’m all for it.”

Greg stared slack-jawed, and then Tom grinned.

“When you’re at a loss for words, say something outrageous; it’s guaranteed to start a conversation. Either that, or the other person moves away, leaving room for someone more interesting. At least that generally works at parties. Although there was that one time when I did that and the guy talked right back, didn’t miss a beat. The problem was he talked and talked my ear off the rest of the evening about replacement toner cartridges, if you can believe that. Seems he’d developed some process to reuse old ones. Man was as dull as dirt.”

Greg’s eyes widened. “I take it you’re rarely at a loss for words.”

“Not if I can help it. Growing up the way I did, making small talk was an art. I can spend hours talking to just about anyone about anything and actually say nothing whatsoever.”

“Is that what you’re doing now?”

“Oh, gosh, no.” Tom winked. “It’s just one of my skills.”

“You said you managed money for a living,” Greg said.

“Yes. My family has a charitable foundation, and I’m in charge of managing the money and distributing the proceeds to worthy organizations.” Tom stopped abruptly and became enamored with his food.

Greg knew there was something he was trying to avoid saying. He waited.

“I try to avoid certain subjects, not because I’m ashamed, but because they make getting to know someone difficult.”

“You have money,” Greg supplied with a shrug. “I knew that already, based upon the people your family knew and the way you grew up. Most people don’t have nannies.”

“Yeah, well, the last person I dated only wanted me for my money,” Tom said.

Greg put down his fork. “It doesn’t matter to me what you have or don’t have. I didn’t have much even before we lost the farm, but my folks loved us and spent their time and energy making each of us kids feel important and cared for. That’s what I try to do with Davey. I have a better life than my parents had, and I hope Davey will have a better life than I do, but money is only part of the answer. So whatever you have is yours and you can keep it. I don’t want or need it.”

“Okay, then,” Tom said.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to come off sounding like a prick. I’m not here because of what you have. If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t spend time with you. And for the record, I’m not rich, but I do okay, and Davey and I have a good life.”

“I understand,” Tom said. “Money is a strange subject. We can talk about all kind of other topics, including sex and religion, but money makes everyone nervous and uptight.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Greg said. “So you’ve really had guys date you for your money?”

“Yeah. One guy was so good at the act it took me months to figure it out. He’d used my name all over New York to get people to extend him credit. They thought I’d pay his bills, and he let them think that. I had people coming to me for months trying to get paid. Stupid jerk. One thing my grandfather always told me was never to pay anyone else’s bills and never to loan money to family or friends. ‘Especially family,’ Grandpa always added at the end.”

Greg returned to his dinner. “He sounds like a hoot.”

“He was. Grandpa was one smart cookie. He started the family grocery business from nothing, and now there are stores all over the country under a number of names. He worked almost every day of his life, and so did my grandma. All their kids worked in the stores too. Grandpa made them learn the business. I worked there as well, but stopped when I went away to college.

“People were always in awe of my grandfather. He was a big man and commanded attention in every room he entered. But to me he was just Grandpa, the man who used to take me on fishing trips and camping in the summer. He did with the other grandkids as well, but he and I always had this special bond. When I was young, he was more important to me than my folks.” Tom’s expression turned far away. “He died when I was fourteen. So, yeah, you’re right, the important things in life don’t come from money, and I’d give every cent if I could have him back.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Greg said, thinking of Davey.

“I really get that. But it changes things, and I want people to like me for me, that’s all,” Tom said.

Greg reached across the table and touched Tom’s hand. “I like you for you.” He made small circles with his thumb on the back of Tom’s hand. “This is nice.”

Tom nodded, and they grew quiet. Unlike earlier, Greg didn’t wonder what they should talk about or what would come next.

They both began eating again, only now they kept sharing looks, glances, and smiles across the table. It truly felt like being a teenager again, only now it was the good parts, the excitement and energy of something new with possibilities stretching out to be explored. Both of them declined dessert, and the server brought the check. Greg reached for it, but Tom took it first.

“You can treat next time.”

The thought of a next time with Tom brought a smile to his face. Greg hoped he didn’t look too goofy. Tom paid and signed the receipt. Then they stood and left the restaurant. They walked to the car in the early summer night. A week earlier, the evenings had been unusually warm; now they held a slight chill. Greg wished he’d brought a light jacket, but once in the car he was warm enough. Tom didn’t start the engine, and Greg turned to see what he was doing. The leather seats crunched slightly as Tom moved closer, slowly sliding his hand around the back of Greg’s neck. The touch was gentle and soft, guiding, coaxing, and Greg moved into it. Their lips touched, and Greg nearly pulled away. He’d been kissed before, but it’d never been accompanied by a zing of electricity. He didn’t recognize it at first. Tom seemed to, because he deepened the kiss, shifting his weight slightly and pressing against Greg.

When they broke apart, Greg gasped for air and blinked a few times, taking a second to make sure he hadn’t imagined what had just happened. “Wow,” Greg mouthed, and Tom smiled.

“You can say that again,” Tom whispered. A couple walked by the car, breaking the spell. Tom started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot.

After a few minutes, Greg got a pretty good idea where they were going. Tom turned into the entrance of one of the parks and pulled to a stop at the edge of a bluff. Ahead of them, Lake Superior sparkled with the light of a million stars and the nearly full moon. The lake almost never looked like that, but tonight, instead of extreme northern Michigan, they could have been floating on the Caribbean.

“This is one of my favorite spots. When the lake is stormy, the waves sometimes spray the car, but on a night like this….” Tom’s words floated away as he opened his seat belt and moved closer for another kiss.

Afterward, Greg leaned back in his seat, breathless, energy thrumming through him from head to toe. Tom held his hand, and they sat silently for a while, watching the light dance on the waves.

Their quiet interlude was broken when Greg’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He tried to ignore it at first, thinking it was a message, but it continued, and he shifted on the seat, fishing out his phone. “It’s Ken,” he told Tom and then answered the call.

“Greg, I think you need to get here as soon as you can,” Ken told
him.

“Is there a problem?” he asked automatically.

“Yes. You need to get here.”

Greg’s heart raced and he relayed the message to Tom, who started the engine. Greg fumbled to put on his seat belt as Tom drove quickly out of the park and to the main highway toward Pleasanton.

“Is Davey okay?” Greg asked Ken.

“I don’t know. Something is definitely wrong. We’re keeping him quiet and settled, but he fell and hit his head,” Ken said.

“Okay. We’re on our way,” Greg said, the phone shaking against his ear. “It should be about ten minutes.”

“We’ll be watching for you,” Ken said. He hung up and Greg set down the phone.

“They said Davey fell and hit his head. They’re keeping him quiet, but something is most definitely wrong. I can tell Ken is avoiding telling me something over the phone.” Greg’s imagination raced in a million directions.

“Have they called an ambulance?” Tom asked.

“I don’t know; I didn’t think to ask,” Greg said, trembling in the
seat.

“They would have told you,” Tom said, most likely trying to be reassuring.

Greg felt the car speed up, and they flew down the highway. Greg willed the car to go even faster and hoped they wouldn’t be stopped by a cop.

In record time, they pulled up in front of Ken and Patrick’s house. Tom parked right out front. Greg got out of the car almost before it had come to a complete stop and hurried toward the front door. He knew Tom was right behind him, but didn’t turn around to look.

The front door of the house opened, and Patrick stood off to the side to let him in. Davey sat on the sofa with Hanna hugging him. He had his hands over his eyes, crying and rocking back and forth.

“He’s been like this since just before we called. I’ve tried to get him to talk to me, but I get nothing,” Ken whispered.

Greg hurried closer. “Davey,” he said, his throat constricting in fear. “What is it?”

Davey stood but then didn’t move. Greg hurried to him, hugging Davey close.

“It’s gone, Dad,” he said. “It’s gone.” Davey began to cry, and the rest of his words were mumbled and not understandable.

Greg knew Davey was trying to speak, but nothing was coming out. “What’s gone, Davey? Take a deep breath and tell me what’s wrong.”

“Daddy, I can’t see anymore,” Davey said and then held him tight, burying his head against Greg’s chest.

Greg stroked Davey’s hair and felt his own eyes fill with tears. “What happened?” he asked as calmly as he could. He still held Davey and did his best to comfort him.

“We were in the family room. He got up and stumbled over the coffee table,” Hanna explained. “When he got back up, he turned around and got upset. We got him in here.” She was nearly as upset as Davey.

“Davey, it’s going to be all right. I’ll call the doctor and we’ll see what he says,” Greg soothed, as calmly as his trembling heart would allow.

Patrick came forward and cradled Davey in his arms. Greg stepped back and fished Jerry’s number from his wallet. He left a message with the answering service and got a call from Jerry back a few minutes later. Greg explained what had happened.

“All right. I want you to bring him into the office first thing Monday morning. Can he see anything at all?” Jerry asked.

“Davey,” Greg said, and Davey turned toward his voice. “Can you see anything at all?”