Turning the Page (7 page)

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” Malcolm told Hans and felt Hans squeeze his hand under the table.

“I really am. Your colleagues are quite nice,” he said as he looked across the table. “What’s with the girl with Gary?” he whispered without moving his lips.

Malcolm shrugged and kept the smile on his face.

“How did you meet?” Carolyn asked.

“I met Malcolm the first time at the office. I was there on business, and it would have stayed that way if we hadn’t met again last weekend. He and his brother took pity on me after a blind date stood me up, and Malcolm and I hit it off.”

Dang, there was that smile again, and the dancing blue eyes.

“Malcolm and I have quite a bit in common, and I think we understand some important things about each other.”

Hans took a bite of his salad, and Malcolm let go of some of his nerves. Gary and the others didn’t seem fazed by Hans at all. They’d all liked David, so having someone new in his life might have caused problems. Once the dishes were being cleared and before the next course was served, Lyndon and his wife excused themselves and wound between the tables to one a few over, where they talked to the CFO of a local microbrewery. The business was small but growing.

“Is there someone you need to talk to?” Hans asked.

Malcolm nodded with a smile. “Come with me. You’ll make his day.” Malcolm stood and took Hans’s hand without really thinking about it. They made their way to one of the very front tables.

“Mal,” Claudette Gilbert said as she stood. “How are you?” They exchanged cheek kisses.

“I’m wonderful.”

Her gaze shifted to Hans, revealing joy mixed with curiosity.

“This is Hans Erickson,” Malcolm said. “He’s here with me this evening, and I thought that he and Zephyr might have something in common.”

Claudette’s grandson stood from the seat next to his grandmother. “You’re
the
Hans Erickson? I have one of your books with me.” He beamed and pulled a book out of his backpack. “Would you sign it?”

Claudette had been one of the first clients to take a chance on Malcolm, and they had been friends ever since. Malcolm had met Zephyr many times, and he’d never seen the fifteen-year-old without a book.

“Certainly,” Hans said and stepped away to sign the book.

“How is Zephyr doing?” Malcolm asked Claudette.

“He’s in remission, and we’re hoping it stays that way.” She followed Zephyr with her gaze. His hair was growing back, and he’d lost some of the haunted expression he’d had during treatment. It even looked like he’d started putting on weight.

“We all do.”

“How are you?” Claudette looked at Hans. “Are you dating?”

“Hans and I are exploring a friendship.” God, he hoped that was what was happening. “It’s too early for me to take things too seriously, but Hans is….” He wasn’t sure how to put it, but the smile on Zephyr’s face said it all as he and Hans talked.

“Honey, I know that look.”

“He’s a new friend. I’m not a kid any longer.”

“Hon, neither of us is. But that doesn’t need to stop us. I know you’re still hurting. It took me a long time to get over Larry’s passing. And I still love him. He’s been gone eight years, and there isn’t a day that I don’t still miss him. But I’ve been out with other men, and I even fell in love once.”

“But it didn’t work out?”

“There were extenuating circumstances.”

Malcolm guessed that was her way of saying that his intentions weren’t entirely honorable—in other words, he was after her money.

“That hurt too, but not as much as losing Larry. The thing is, it’s okay to fall in love again. I did it with the wrong man, but I still had fun.” She bumped his arm. “Let yourself be happy.” She turned away. “Zephyr, sweetheart, let Mr. Erickson go. We need to return to our places. They’re serving the next course.”

They went back to their chairs, and Malcolm and Hans made their way back to theirs.

“Thank you. That meant a lot to him.”

“How come he just happened to have a copy of my book?” Hans asked as they reached the table.

“Well, he reads all the time, but I may have told his grandmother that Zephyr would have need of it,” Malcolm answered. “He’s been through a lot, and after he was diagnosed, his grandmother threw herself into his care. This was her idea, and as you can see, the room is full of people who paid two hundred dollars a plate for the evening. Besides, have you ever made anyone so happy?”

“I don’t think so,” Hans answered. “He asked me all about each of the characters and if they were going to be in any more stories. It’s like they’re real to him.”

“Maybe when you’ve been through what he has, imagination becomes even more important. And you helped provide that.”

“Are you a friend of the family?”

“Of a sort. She’s been a client for years, but it was Zephyr and David who brought us closer. The two of them met during treatments. They were both on the same basic schedule, so they saw each other at the hospital, and leave it to David to strike up a friendship anywhere.” Malcolm was vaguely aware of the others around the table listening to him as servers set the plates. “Of course, I knew Claudette already, but over time we grew closer. Zephyr is her daughter’s only child, and Claudette has raised him since he was four after her daughter died. Claudette is quite a woman.”

He turned away and began to eat. He needed something to do as the grief got too close to the surface. Talking about loss always brought his own to the front, and he didn’t want to break down in front of his colleagues.

“It’s all right,” Hans whispered. “You aren’t alone.” Hans lightly squeezed his arm out of sight of the others, and Malcolm felt better.

Malcolm nodded and slowly looked up from his roast beef, hoping like hell the others hadn’t noticed. The fact that every set of eyes around the table was looking at him told Malcolm more than he needed to know.

“So once, when I was off the coast of South America, I was with a team diving on a wreck,” Hans said. “We were getting so close to our goal. We’d found some evidence that this particular ship had been carrying Spanish gold. We’d been diving on her for about three days and coming up with nothing, when this school of fish starts rolling and swooping all around us. They were stunning, and it was so cool.”

Malcolm wiped his eyes with his napkin, listening to Hans as the others were.

“Then the school scatters in all directions, and sure enough, a huge shark glides right nearby. This thing was massive, a Great White, and let me tell you, those teeth were something else. This guy was having a fish feast, and then he spied me. I was a sitting duck.”

“What did you do?” Carolyn asked breathlessly.

“I wasn’t too deep, so I sent up a screen of bubbles to try to hide and swam toward the boat. When I broke the surface, I was twenty feet or so from the boat. To this day I don’t know how I got back into it. The other men all swore that I’m living proof that you can walk on water.”

Everyone laughed, including Malcolm, and then they returned to their meals. Malcolm looked at Hans, thanking him with his eyes before eating once again. Hans responded with another light squeeze on his arm.

Light table conversation lasted through the rest of the meal, and then people began to mingle and work the room a little, talking and laughing. Malcolm made sure to say hello to the people he knew, received a few inquiries, and was promised that he’d be receiving some phone calls because his advice and expertise were required. That was the main purpose of these events for him, to be seen and meet people, in addition to helping the charity.

Half an hour after dinner, some of the tables were cleared away and a band began to play. Couples started making their way to the dance floor.

“Would anyone like a drink?” Howard asked before heading off toward the bar.

“I’ll be right back,” Hans said and pushed his chair back.

Malcolm watched him go and then glanced around the room, watching people. He saw that Claudette had dragged Zephyr onto the dance floor. They seemed to be having a decent time. Malcolm felt himself falling into another funk until he sensed someone standing beside him. He turned, and Hans extended a hand.

“You want to dance?” Malcolm asked. Hans nodded once and held his hand steady. Malcolm stood and took it, letting Hans lead him to the floor. Once they reached it, Malcolm pulled Hans into position and led him around the floor.

David had loved dancing, and it was an activity the two of them had enjoyed. Hans was terrific, and together they were respectable. “Thank you for earlier,” Malcolm said as he looked into Hans’s eyes.

“It was nothing.” Hans said as he pulled him a little closer. “You needed a few minutes, and I could give you that.”

“I had no idea things would still be so hard after all these months.”

“Everyone grieves at their own pace. You lost someone closest to your heart. You need to feel the pain, process it, and then let it go. It’s the last part that’s the hardest,” Hans continued, following him around the floor. “You know people are looking at us.”

“Not us, you. Mostly they’re wondering what a hot, handsome guy like you is doing dancing with an old wreck like me.”

Hans scoffed. “I think it’s the silver fox that’s getting all the attention.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. You’re the one who looks completely edible in that tuxedo.”

Malcolm listened for any sort of signal that Hans was kidding and heard none.

“Come on.” He was finding that hard to believe. “My man-hunting days are long over.”

“I don’t think so,” Hans said, and he surprised Malcolm by running his fingers lightly over his cheek. “You have to realize that you’re an attractive man.”

“I’m way too old to be attractive,” Malcolm protested.

Hans rolled his eyes. “You don’t know what you are.” He stroked his face once again. “That’s what you need to find out. For many years you were Malcolm, David’s husband. Now you’re just Malcolm, and that’s hard to get used to. But you will.”

Malcolm wasn’t sure if Hans was right or not, but at the moment he was less concerned with things like that than he was with the warmth that spread from inside. It was like he’d been asleep for a long time and now he was starting to wake up. The song ended and another began, this one slower and quieter. Malcolm stopped, but Hans didn’t release him.

“Now it’s my turn to lead.” Hans tugged him closer until they were chest to chest, and Malcolm could feel Hans’s breath kissing his neck.

“Hans…,” Malcolm said, feeling a little panicky.

“It’s just a dance, and I’m willing to bet it’s been a long time since someone held you and was there just for you. I know what it was like to care for someone who’s ill, to have every ounce of your energy directed at him and his care. Just let go for a few minutes and let someone else care for you.”

Malcolm sighed and closed his eyes. He could do that, and it felt good to be held and touched again. He’d done plenty of holding when David was sick, but having someone understand that he needed to be held was so comforting. “Hans, I….”

“It’s all right. This is just a dance.”

“I was going to say that this….”

The word escaped him, but Hans simply tightened his hold a little bit, and Malcolm knew he understood. Malcolm closed his eyes and let the movement carry him to a happier place than he’d been in quite a while. He’d been living, but only just barely.

All too soon the song ended, and Hans let him go and stepped away. They walked back to the table and sat down. Most of the other seats were empty, with only Lyndon and his wife sitting together, talking softly.

“We were talking about Gary’s date,” Lyndon said quietly.

Malcolm had been wondering if things would be strained after dancing, but obviously not. “She added nothing to the conversation and seemed to want to be anywhere but here.” It was unfortunate but true that Gary was so preoccupied with appearances that he’d need to have the best-looking date at the table.

“She was bored stiff and kept looking around the room.”

“Where are they now?”

“Gary is talking to a man over there,” Hans said, “and it looks like his date is much more interested in someone else.”

Hans tilted his head to the other side. Gary’s date—Malcolm couldn’t remember her name—was sitting at another table, making eyes at and laughing with another man. They seemed deep in conversation, and she looked happy, or at least engaged.

“What’s Gary doing?” Hans asked, and Malcolm turned to follow Hans’s gaze.

Gary was talking animatedly to a man in his early twenties. They seemed to be discussing something intently, and the young man looked about ready to punch Gary. Malcolm got up and hurried over just as Gary punched the younger man, catching him on the shoulder, and the young man used the momentum and let loose with his other fist, inadvertently catching Malcolm on the arm. Malcolm went down, sprawling on the gleaming marble museum floor, and instantly Hans was there beside him. Gary beat a hasty retreat, and the slugger apologized profusely and backed away. It was all a little surreal and a lot painful. Malcolm was sure his arm wasn’t broken, but pain shot up and down it for a few moments before it began to ease.

“Did you hurt anything besides your arm?” Hans asked, and Malcolm shook his head. “Can you get up?”

“Yes. I’ll be fine.” Malcolm got to his feet and slowly made his way back to the table and sat down. He cradled his arm, and Hans sat next to him. “I don’t have a clue what that was all about.”

“I can try to find out,” Hans said, but Malcolm shook his head. It would all come out when he went back to the office, he was sure. Thankfully the music had started again, and everyone seemed to be letting what happened fall away in deference to the occasion.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the man who’d hit him said just above the music. “You weren’t supposed to get in the way.”

He sat down nervously, and Hans rose and stepped in front of him.

“It’s all right, Hans,” Malcolm said, warmed by Hans’s protective nature. “What was going on?”

“Gary…. He….” The man looked around. “He was here with my girlfriend. Now former girlfriend, I guess. What she sees in him, I have no idea, but….” He grabbed a napkin off the table and twisted it in his hands. “He’s such a weasel.”