by Andrew Grey
“Yes, I believe that’s correct. Though Dante did stay holed up in his house for a long time. We rarely saw him at all until he met Beau. Then things changed.” I figured that was enough talking about my boss. Dante and his family had been good to me. They gave me a chance when I was very young, and helped train me and develop my talent, so I wasn’t going to repay them with gossip.
Our entrees arrived, and they smelled amazing, warm and buttery. The first bite was tangy on my tongue. “Oh, wow. This is fantastic. I’ve never tasted anything like it before.”
“You haven’t been here before?” Dieter asked, and I shook my head. “This is in your town.” He sounded shocked.
I shrugged and leaned over the table, lowering my voice. “This isn’t the kind of place I go to. It’s expensive, and I can’t afford to come here. Usually I eat where I met you the other day.”
Dieter seemed about to ask a question but closed his mouth instead. Curiosity burned in his eyes.
“You can ask. I won’t be offended.”
“But you must make good money with your artistry. At least you should. You’re very talented,” Dieter said. “It was your work that earned the most praise from the European Porcelain Arts Council. The other work being done at the studio here is very good, but it was your pieces that captured everyone’s attention.” He smiled and his gaze grew heated.
I shrugged. “I help my family.” Such as it was. I paid Mom rent for my room. So did Jeremy. It was how she made ends meet. I often thought she should try to go back to work, but Mom didn’t have any particular skills and was unreliable at best. She never seemed able to stay at a job for very long.
I wondered if Dieter was only interested in me for my artistic talent, but the intense way he kept looking at me had me wondering. My cheeks heated as they always seemed to when Dieter was around. I wasn’t used to that kind of scrutiny, and it made me both a little nervous and excited. My heart beat faster when Dieter’s scrutiny didn’t waver. He set down his fork and picked up his water glass without taking his eyes off me. I swallowed hard, blinking, wondering if he was really interested in me.
“You’re a very handsome man.”
“Thank you. So are you.” Damn it all, my cheeks grew warmer. Hattie liked to tell me that everyone could tell what I was thinking.
“You blush cutely.” Dieter took another sip of water and set his glass down.
“Thanks. I hate that I do that. The other people at work sometimes try to see how quickly they can get me to blush.” I put my hands to my cheeks, wanting to disappear into the floor.
“No. It is handsome and very… sweet.” He smiled. “No one has to worry that you’re hiding something. That is very good.”
“Do people hide things from you often?” I asked, and the smile slowly fell from Dieter’s face and some of the light dimmed from his eyes.
“Yes. People have hidden a lot from me.” Dieter’s jaw tightened, and I didn’t expect him to tell me any more. Whatever secrets Dieter had were his to keep, and I had no right to ask about them.
I played with the napkin in my lap. “I know how that feels.” Mom had hidden a lot from us over the years. “My mother hides things all the time. I have to make sure I see all the bills and make sure she pays them, or she’ll spend the money on clothes or something she wants on some whim.” I stopped talking. There was no need to go into the mess that was my family. I certainly didn’t need to drag Dieter into that quagmire. I liked that maybe I could have someone, a friend, who wasn’t involved in all that and didn’t really know them.
“My father kept a lot of secrets.” Dieter lowered his gaze, returning to his dinner.
I did the same and tried to think of a different subject. “How long are you going to be in town?” That seemed safe enough.
“A couple of weeks. I have some business in Baltimore and Philadelphia, so I’ll be around and gone some of the time, but I can take the train to most places I need to go. I like using the trains. It reminds me of home.”
“I like them too. Driving in the cities is crazy.” I smiled. “Once, though, the Smithsonian was having an exhibit of Ming porcelain. I was supposed to go into DC to meet John March—he was the head of the studio at that time—who was spending some time in the city with his family and had invited me down to see the exhibit. I’d started to work at the studio a year before, and it was the first time my mom allowed me to go on my own. I was seventeen and so excited.”
“What happened?”
“I followed John’s directions and got on the right train, except I forgot to get off and nearly ended up in Virginia. Thankfully, I realized it and got on a train going the other way.” I could laugh about it now, so I did, giving a small chuckle. “I was horrified and very relieved I’d taken an earlier train so I wouldn’t be late. As it was, I met him on time and never told anyone. Until now.”
Dieter grinned. “I once got on the wrong train in Munich. Ended up going the wrong direction out to the airport before having to take the train all the way back into town.” He smiled and then chuckled. I joined him. “Like your situation, it wasn’t funny at the time. On the way back, though, my companion was a huge guy in drag, name of Greta, and she kept me company. I nearly wet myself when I first realized she was a guy under all that makeup.” Dieter groaned and laughed louder. “I was such an ignorant kid back then.”
I smiled too. “We all were, I guess. Sometimes I think I still am.” I finished the last of my fish, stuffed to the rafters. “I’ve lived here all my life. I don’t really know anything else. God, I’d love to be able to see the world. There has to be more than this town and anything that’s only an hour or so away.”
“You’ve never been farther than that?” Dieter asked.
I shook my head. “My stepfather always spoke about traveling. He wanted to see the world, and he used to talk about taking us all on a holiday to Europe. He was planning it when he died, and after that, there wasn’t the money to go.”
“How did he die?” Dieter asked.
“Plane crash. He was on a chartered plane coming back from New York. The plan was to land on one of the fields here on the Eastern Shore.” I looked down at my empty plate. “He was a good man and had to go up there on business, but he’d promised me he’d be back for my graduation, so he took one of those small planes, and it went down in the Bay. They said some sort of wind shear.” I wiped my eyes and pushed away the grief that always threatened whenever I thought about him. Dammit. I shook my head and held up my hands. “I’m sorry. Let’s talk about something more fun, like backed-up sewers or torrential flooding.”
Dieter snorted and set down his fork, laughing and trying not to at the same time. “God, don’t do that.” He grabbed his napkin and placed it in front of his face. “At least not after I just drank water.” He wiped his nose and slowly put the napkin back on his lap. “I wasn’t expecting it….”
“I suppose not.” I managed a smile as well. “Sometimes I can dwell on the darker things in life.”
“Can’t we all,” Dieter agreed. “So, tell me something funny, something that makes you smile.” He ate the last few bites of his fish and set his fork down again. “What makes you laugh?”
I thought of something I’d seen. “People, I suppose. They do the strangest things.” I grinned. “Have you been to Michael’s Crab House down by the Bay? It’s just a block or so away, on piers high above the water in case of flooding. They have the best crabs in town there… if you like that sort of thing.”
“Do you?” Dieter asked.
I shook my head, leaning closer over the table so I could whisper. “I’m about to commit heresy, but I don’t like blue crabs at all. I think they taste awful.” I shrugged, leaning back. “Anyway, a lot of people love them, and that’s their specialty. So, at work, when it’s someone’s birthday, we take them out for lunch, and Hattie always wants to go there. It’s her favorite place. We went last month, and all of us got a table by the window where we could watch the boats come i
n. I think it was also the same day as the Garden Club lunch, because a dozen older ladies came in dressed to the nines. They ordered drinks and toasted one another. They were so cute.” I gave him a smile to hide what was coming.
“Sounds nice,” Dieter said with a hint of skepticism.
“It was. The servers came out, spread the table with paper, set out plates and silverware, and then poured buckets of cooked crabs in the center of the table. The ladies each grabbed a mallet and a crab and whacked the hell out of them. The crab carnage was unbelievable. Those ladies dug in like there was no tomorrow.”
Dieter chuckled, sitting back in his chair.
“That’s not the best part. They stopped at one point, raised their glasses in a toast, and then went back to whacking the hell out of those poor crustaceans. The pounding was deafening, and Lord, I swear, when the server tried to clean up part of the mess for them, they nearly gnawed his arm off.”
Dieter laughed hard, wiping his eyes with his napkin. “My God.”
“Those Garden Club ladies are a carnivorous bunch, you’d better believe it.” I raised my hand. “Apparently it happens once a month. They go there after their meeting. I asked one of the servers and learned that they draw lots to see who gets to be off that day. It’s because the cleanup afterward is something else. Some of the old gals don’t see so well, so there are bits of crab all over.” I scooted closer to the table. “Some of them don’t know their own strength and whack the poor things into near oblivion, crab guts going everywhere.”
I grinned as Dieter held his sides and leaned forward, laughing as quietly as he could but still attracting the attention of half the people in the restaurant. I didn’t care. Dieter’s laughter rolling through him was one of the greatest sounds I had ever heard: deep, rich, full, and warm. Delight shone in his eyes, and I’d give anything to be able to see that sight over and over. I sipped my water and let Dieter get hold of himself again.
“Did that really happen?” Dieter asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Third Tuesday of the month at about twelve thirty. We can go, if you like, to watch the spectacle. But it isn’t for the faint of heart, as they say. The carnage can get a little overwhelming. It’s definitely not for anyone with a weak stomach.” I winked, and Dieter put his napkin back on his lap. His eyes were slightly red, but the gentle lines on his face still extended almost to his ears as he smiled.
“You need to write stories like that down.”
I shook my head. “I’m a painter, not a writer. I’ve thought of trying to convey the scene on canvas, but I doubt the world needs another Jackson Pollock. One of those is quite enough.” I chuckled, and Dieter held his hand over his mouth as the giggles started up again. “I can’t figure out how to get the effect of random crab guts on canvas. If I did, maybe the crab house would buy it.” I smiled. “But they’d have to put it behind glass or the ladies would only add to the artistic effect each month.”
Dieter leaned forward. “It could be performance art.”
I lost it and laughed right along with him. It felt amazing to let myself go and not worry what Dieter or anyone else was going to think about me. Being comfortable enough to simply be myself wasn’t something I was used to. At work I was supposed to be the quiet, talented artist, and at home, well, I had to hide parts of who I was for self-preservation purposes.
“Can I ask something?” Dieter said once he’d gotten himself under control. “Does your family get to see this side of you? Because it’s beautiful.” Suddenly the mirth was gone, but the warmth remained, transforming quickly into another of those damned blushes I hated.
I shook my head. “I’ve never been beautiful in my life and I know it.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Dieter said. “You let me see the humor in your life, and when you smile, you’re so bright, you can block out the sun.” He stared at me, and I felt myself squirming and stopped.
Why was I so nervous? My stomach fluttered and my hands were sweaty. I rubbed them down the legs of my jeans to dry them, but the attempt was completely futile.
“Does your family know about you?”
“You mean, do they know I like guys and not girls?” I nodded. “I told them a while ago. Actually, I told my stepfather before he died. He was the one I could talk to about things like that. He was a good man, and I know why Mom married him. What I don’t understand is why he married her.” I was getting off the subject. “Anyway, yeah, I told them. My brother was an ass about it, and my mother was too wound up in her own shit to really care too much about it. My sister, Isabella, was pretty cool with it. I don’t think she thinks about it one way or the other.” Man, I needed to learn to shut up instead of running my mouth on and on all the time. “How about your family?”
“I told them before they passed away. My mom was supportive, but my dad worried about family legacy and heritage. Who I was going to pass the family name down to, and so on. He wanted me to get married anyway, and I told him that I wasn’t going to do that. Family legacy and the next generation will take care of themselves. I wasn’t going to make myself and someone else miserable to make him happy. He was pretty pissed off part of the time.” Dieter shrugged.
“I don’t have any sort of family property to worry about leaving to anyone.” I wondered if Dieter was rich or something. He’d talked about a vineyard and other businesses. He had to be successful and his family must have money.
“Sometimes I wish I didn’t. That seemed to be my father’s main worry in life, that he’d pass things on to me and that I had someone to pass them to.” He shook his head. “Dad never enjoyed what he had, not once in his whole life, I swear it. He worked all the time. I don’t even know if my mom and dad were ever happy. She had her interests, and he had his. I know Dad had at least one mistress, maybe more.” Dieter drank the last of his water, and the server came by to refill the glass.
“Can I bring you the dessert menu?” he asked.
Dieter looked to me and I shook my head. I was stuffed full. “No, thanks. Just the bill, please.” Dieter took another drink.
“So your mom and dad…?” I asked, trying to understand.
“They were happy, in their own way. Mom was Catholic and didn’t want to have any more children, so she closed her bedroom door to Dad, and he found his… interests somewhere else.” Dieter sighed and shrugged. “It seems so very cold and civil, and my dad said I could do the same thing once I’d secured an heir. Like my wife was a broodmare or something. I wanted to smack him for that and for how he treated Mother.” Dieter waved dismissively. “Let’s change the subject again.”
The server brought the check, and Dieter handed him a credit card. He took it and returned so Dieter could sign the slip.
Then Dieter stood, setting his napkin aside. “Shall we go?”
I stood and followed Dieter out of the restaurant. We walked slowly down the sidewalk to his car, my hands shoved firmly into my pockets. I wasn’t sure what to do next or what to expect. Was this a date? If it was, what was expected at the end? I hadn’t dated very much, and my last one… well, it hadn’t gone like this at all.
“Dieter, I can walk home if….” It was just to the edge of town.
“Of course not.” Dieter unlocked the car and opened the passenger door. “Come on. I’ll take you home.” He waited until I was inside before getting in and driving me home.
I reached for the door handle, but Dieter touched my arm. I turned toward him, and he leaned over the console, the leather scrunching softly as he shifted. I didn’t move for a couple seconds, and Dieter stopped as well. It took me a moment to realize he was waiting for me and the last few inches were mine to make. He wasn’t going to push himself on me; I was the one who had to decide.
I closed the distance between us, Dieter’s lips touching mine. I shut my eyes and felt warmth and excitement wash over me, filling me with light and heat. Dieter’s hand slid slowly around the back of my neck, bringing us together, and he deepened the kiss until my
control broke and I leaned closer, wanting more. Dieter tasted of spice, with heat and musk underneath, coming through as the kiss lingered.
Then he pulled away, his blue eyes so close, shining, the smile on his lips warm and inviting, caring. All things I wasn’t used to seeing. Dieter inhaled and kissed me again, tongue teasing my lips. I pressed forward, using my weight to push him back to the seat, my cock hard and throbbing in an instant as a wash of excitement took me over. It was almost more than I could stand. Dieter’s arms wound around me, and I bonked my head on the ceiling of the car, chuckling and rubbing the top of my head.
“I’m not usually this clumsy, though I have to confess to not having any experience with making out in cars.” I giggled to cover how idiotic I felt.
“You blush a lot,” Dieter said, running his hand along my jaw. “I like it.”
“I don’t. It always makes me seem like a kid.” I sat back, looking out the front window, which was starting to fog over. I needed to go inside, but I didn’t want to get out of the car. Inside here was fun and excitement; God knows what was in store for me when I went into the house.
“Don’t hide or be ashamed of who you are,” Dieter said. “You blush and giggle.” He shrugged. “It’s nice and shows an honest reaction. Everyone does their best to try to hide who they are under a mask they’ve made so the world only sees what they want to be seen. You don’t do that, and it’s refreshing, warm.” He leaned in to kiss me again. “I have to go into the city tomorrow.”
“But it’s Saturday.” I wondered how much work he thought he was going to get done.
“I’ll be back in the afternoon. Would it be okay if I picked you up about three?”
I nodded. My full attention focused on where he touched me, a single finger sliding back and forth over my chin.
“Good. Wear jeans and boots.”
“Where are we going?”
