Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“It’s a lovely table.”
He ran bony fingers along the edge of the inlay. “It is. I might have given it away, but I was afraid David would haunt me from the grave if I dared.”
“Did he pick it out?” I asked lightly.
“No, we bought it together. It was our very first piece of furniture. We used it as a dining table in the apartment we shared in Pasadena in 19…” He squinted and shook his head. “1966. Is that possible? I remember the day we brought it home like it was yesterday. Our friend James let us borrow his truck. It should have been a simple chore of throwing it onto the flatbed, but David was a nuclear engineer. Very persnickety. You’d have thought we were transferring the crown jewels.”
His indulgent smile lit something deep from within, peeling away decades in a flash. I swore I could picture Mr. Gowan fifty years younger…and madly in love. When his eyes glistened a moment later, he schooled his features with a cough and glanced away.
My heart ached for him, but I didn’t know what to say or—
“Tell us about David,” Pierce prodded gently.
I felt an invisible protective shield lock into place around the older man. Maybe it was a standard default. Maybe he’d been programmed to be wary of interest regarding his personal life. I didn’t think he’d answer, but instead of deflecting Pierce with a witty segue, Mr. Gowan arched his brow and inclined his head.
“What do you want to know?”
Pierce slid his wineglass on the table and leaned forward. “Anything. Or…whatever you can share. I’m curious about him. You inferred that he had a rough family life, and trust me, I understand and sympathize, but…what happened after he got to California? How’d you meet? What were your lives like?”
Geez, I wanted to know all that and more, but I hadn’t wanted to pry. Pierce had no such qualms. His curiosity had a rabid quality, evident in the set of his jaw and his intense stare.
Mr. Gowan must have sensed it too. “All right. We met on the corner of Hollywood and Vine, like I told you. I was hoping to be discovered or…hired for a good time.”
I gasped. “You were an escort?”
“Don’t be a prude, dah-ling. I did what I had to do. I was young and hungry and the money was better than I earned busing tables at the diner,” Mr. Gowan huffed. “I remember the day we met. He wore a navy suit and tie. Oh my, he was so handsome—tall with soulful eyes and a dimple on his left cheek. And get this…he was on a date. With a woman.”
My eyes bugged out. “Really?”
“Yes. She was in the powder room, and he was outside smoking,” Mr. Gowan said wistfully, his gaze half-mast as if he’d transported himself in time. “I came on to him and he turned me down in between elegant drags of his cigarette. While he was waiting for the girl, I told him my life story, which at that point didn’t take more than five minutes. I added that I was waiting for some lucky agent to discover me. He recommended college instead. Then he pushed a twenty-dollar bill into my pocket and wished me well. That should have been it, right? It wasn’t. He returned the following week…no girl.”
“And?” I prodded.
Mr. Gowan’s eyes lit mischievously. “He claimed to be in the area and since I was standing on the corner like a hoodlum, I might as well join him for a bite to eat. We ordered tuna melts on rye, drank sodas, and…talked for hours at that diner counter. We had a lot in common. We were both from Ohio. I’m from Toledo, he was from Columbus. We loved science, Elvis, autumn evenings, fireflies in summertime, the first snowfall. When we finally said good-bye, he gave me his card and told me they were hiring at his campus. Caltech…where the smarties go to school. I called the following day, and the rest is history.”
“You lived happily ever after?” I inquired, snapping a piece of cookie in half.
“Well…yes and no,” Mr. G singsonged. “Times were different, honey. No one uttered the word ‘gay’ or ‘homosexual’ in polite company. It was rude. No, it was scandalous. We’d both escaped to LA to start over. It was foolhardy to risk it all by admitting you preferred the company of gentlemen. David’s philosophy was that it was best to keep your head down, work hard, and make yourself invaluable.”
“Hide in plain sight,” I suggested.
“Easier done for some than others. David pulled off straight with aplomb, but look at me, dah-ling.” Mr. Gowan fingered the paisley scarf draped over his shoulders meaningfully. “I had to work hard to fit in. It was positively suffocating at times, but David made it…palatable. I played a part out in the world. I modulated my voice to sound more masculine. I wore boring suits and feigned interest in boring pastimes, like fishing and hunting. But at home, I was one thousand percent myself. David was steady as a rock—calm and even-tempered. I was loud, boisterous, silly. I made friends easily and tended to leap before I looked. He was shy, careful. It took time to make it into David’s inner circle, but the lucky ones would agree he was worth the wait.”