Finding Isadora(16)

“Yeah, well, by the time he was finished the second drink he was whining about how he could never find a man like that.”

I stared at her. “Jan, how could you not know Jeremy’s gay?”

She knocked her cardboard cup against her forehead. “I don’t know! Because he’s closeted when he’s on coffee but out when he starts to drink? Because I’m a moron when it comes to men?”

“You’re not. Come on, woman, you live in the West End. You have fine-tuned radar for picking up on gayness.”

“My gay-dar was jammed. I just thought he was so damned attractive and interesting.”

Pogo had found a particularly fascinating bush to sniff, so Janice and I moved off the path and let him indulge.

“That’s rough,” I said. “But I guess you can still be friends?” I nudged her and snickered. “You can hang out in bars together and pick up men.”

She punched my arm. “Have pity. Not everyone’s lucky enough to find a perfect guy like Richard.”

We were at Sunset Beach now, and the seawall traffic had increased. Walkers and joggers had now been joined by roller-bladers, cyclists, and skateboarders. As we waited for Pogo, I idly watched the parade. “Richard is perfect, isn’t he?”

She nodded vigorously. “Handsome, successful, intelligent, and he’s really nice.”

“Considerate, sweet,” I added. Then I frowned, “Jan, do you think he’s, uh, hot?”

My question caught her mid sip. She choked and began to cough. When she could talk again, she rasped, “Hot? What are you talking about? He’s your fiancé. I’m not going to lust after your guy.”

“That’s not what I meant. Just … if you met him and he wasn’t my guy, or anyone else’s guy, would you think he was hot?”

“Hmm.” She took another sip, cleared her throat, sipped again. “He’s certainly attractive. But that hot thing is something different, and really personal. I mean, it kind of leaps out at you, like sparks or a weird kind of energy field.” She gave a surprised chuckle. “There were no sparks with Jeremy. Guess that should have told me something.”

If there were no sparks, you shouldn’t get serious about a man? No, I didn’t buy that for a moment. You had to be thoughtful about relationships, not impulsive, not ruled by pheromones. Besides, I wasn’t actually convinced that pheromones—sparks, as Janice said—truly existed. I’d never experienced any. Unless you counted that weird thing with Gabriel. An energy field, Jan had said. Yes, that was a good description.

Pogo tired of the bush and darted ahead, catching me off guard and yanking me in his wake, the two of us almost tripping a teenage girl and her boyfriend.

“Sorry!” I pulled back firmly on the leash, halting Pogo’s headlong dash as Janice trotted a few steps to catch up.

“Hey, you and Richard were going to that glitzy fundraiser last night, right? How was it?”

Gabriel, flashing his sexy smile. Stripping off his clothes.

“I met Richard’s father,” I said grimly.

“Wow! How did it go?”

She was my oldest friend in the world and we didn’t keep secrets. “I thought he was hot.”

“Well, shit.” Janice stopped dead, eliciting a curse from a man who’d been walking behind us and almost crashed into her. “Really?” She yanked me off the path and I in turn tugged Pogo along with us. Jan’s eyes, the color of black coffee, peered up at me, wide and demanding.

“God, Janice, you should have seen him.” Unwilling to face her sharp-eyed scrutiny, I pulled her back on the path and we began walking again as I described Gabriel.

When I finished, she said, “Oh yeah, he definitely sounds hot. Isn’t that wild, that Richard’s father would be hot? I mean, he’s got to be your parents’ age. And while I love Jimmy Lee to pieces, I wouldn’t call him hot.”

“Grace would. And no, Gabriel’s not that old. Around forty-five, I think. Besides, I don’t think hot has to do with age. Like you said, it’s a personal thing, a state of mind. Or body,” I added grimly, thinking that my attraction to Gabriel had absolutely nothing to do with reason or sanity.

“And your personal state of body says Richard’s dad is hot. That’ll make family dinners a little strange. Though from what you’ve said, Richard hardly ever sees him, eh?”

“True.”

I finished my coffee and dumped the cup in a garbage bin. Of course Janice was right. Family dinners would be with Diane and Frank, not Richard’s father. Gabriel might come to the wedding, then I’d probably never see him again. What a relief. Except, I didn’t feel relieved so much as … sad. For Richard, for Gabriel, and maybe for myself.

Wanting to change the subject, I remembered something I’d been going to ask her. “Jan, have you ever thought of doing private tutoring? For an adult?”

“You need a brush-up?” she kidded.

“Sure hope not. You’ve heard me mention our veterinary assistant, Martin Swallow? And how well he’s working out? He’s starting university in September, concentrating on sciences and planning to be a vet. His academic background isn’t strong and he wants to study ahead of time. He got the textbooks for his fall courses, but they’re heavy going. Martin could use a tutor.”