Date: Wed, 19 Nov 2003 13:53:42 -0800 (PST)
From: dante umbero <danteumbero@yahoo.com>
Subject: Artist's Holiday-Europe

WARNING this story contains graphic descriptions of
hot man 2 man sex.  If you are offended or too young
to read it go away.  Otherwise enjoy.
This story is based on real characters and real
events.  While creative license has been used to
enhance the tale, and obviously the names have been
changed, the general storyline is factual.
The characters in this story were living in a place
and time when diseases were not so common.  Be
responsible and don't make love without a "glove".

Please note...this section doesn't have all that much
sex in it.  Keep in mind I'm trying to get you into
the story.  They aren't getting any so neither are
you.  Just wait till they get back together.

Ciao
Dante-

Because the jet was small, and its range limited we
had to make a stop in Newfoundland to refuel.  It was
early morning when we touched down at Heathrow.  We
taxied to the private tarmac and were greeted by Her
Majesties finest immigration people.  My passport and
bags were quickly reviewed and cleared.  The pilot had
radioed ahead and there was a cab waiting, thankfully.
 I had booked a room and secured it with a credit card
so I went to the hotel and checked in.  I grabbed my
cell phone and dialed Joel's number.

On the second ring his sleepy voice answered, "Did you
make it?"  Flash was barking in the background.

"Yeah lover, I made it.  I'm at my hotel and I'm going
to take a short nap.  I've got my first meeting at the
gallery this afternoon and I would like to be at least
somewhat alert for it."  I answered.  "Are you doing
alright?"  I asked.

"I'm fine, miss you, first night we haven't been
together in a while and I had trouble sleeping.  Flash
isn't a very convincing stand-in."  He said, and I
could hear the smile in his voice, and a snuffling
which could only mean Flash was sniffing the phone.

"Love you babe, I'll call you tonight or tomorrow."  I
yawned.

"Take care of yourself, lover.  I'll call if I don't
hear from you tonight, Ok?"  He said.

The Gallery was located a short tube ride away from my
hotel.  It was one of London's best and the owner was
there to shake my hand and introduce me to his
assistant.

"David, this is Ian.  He's in charge of your sales
here."  The owner said.

I shook hands with a medium height man about my age.
Ian had very black hair that was slightly unruly and
curled at his collar, and a thick Scots accent.  He
wore small black framed glasses and dressed in black
from head to toe.

"Pleased to meet you, I've looked forward to talking
with you."  He said.

We settled down and they talked of my sales and the
types of work they thought would improve my standing
in the UK.  They had arranged a small reception the
next night at the gallery and I told them I'd be
pleased to attend.  The meeting lasted until "tea" and
Ian asked if I would like to pop round to a café and
share a pot with him, to which I agreed, telling him I
had always wanted to take tea in London.

We settled at a table and I let Ian take care of the
waitress.  "Have you ever been to the States, Ian?"  I
asked.

"I was there a few years back as an agent to attend an
auction at Christie's.  I really liked New York.
You're from the west though aren't you?"  He asked

"Yes, the San Francisco area.  I grew up in the
mid-west though, Ohio actually.  I like New York also,
if it weren't for the winters.  My works in a gallery
there and I go about once a year."  I said.
We spent the next 10 minutes talking about art in
general and Ian quizzed me about my style and
technique.  He was very well informed, interesting and
interested.  Finally I asked, "How formal is the
reception tomorrow, I'm afraid I didn't bring black
tie."

"Achh not black tie, our patrons tend to be a bit more
trendy than that.  A jacket and tie should do."  He
laughed.  "You won't be the only one of our artists
there, so you needn't feel too anxious."  He said and
touched my hand.  "I'll stop by your hotel and pick
you up at 6:00 and let you know if you're suitable.
After the reception we can go to dinner.  I've been
assigned to keep you entertained while you're here.
What are your plans for tomorrow?"  He asked.

I looked into Ian eyes and he smiled.  "Well I had
thought of going to the Tate.  I would like to see the
Sargent's."  I said.

"The Tate it is then, I'll call round your Hotel at
9:00 we can take the tube it's just around the corner
from a station.  I suspect you'll want an early night
this evening.  Your Hotel has a reasonable menu, but I
would suggest you go round the corner to the Cock and
Crown, its pub fare but good atmosphere and good ale.
Tell Finney, the barman, I recommended it to you and
he'll take care of you."  He paused and smiled again.

"Well I guess I'll have to put myself in your capable
hands."  I laughed.

"Right then, I'll see you in the morning at 9:00."  He
said at the door to the café and we headed in opposite
directions.

A light rain had started when I exited the tube and
walked to the hotel.  I was too much the Californian
to like the weakness of the light, although the misty
gray afternoon wasn't all that different from the bay
area.

The Cock and Crown was certainly different, fairly
quiet when I got there.  I asked the obviously gay
barman if he were Finney to which he nodded.  I told
him Ian had sent me round and that he had told me he
would take care of me.

"Ah, Ian, was it?"  He said with a thick Irish brogue.
 "Tell him he could ring a bloke occasionally.  I'm
getting lonely." He roared along with the two other
men standing at the bar.  "But you go on and sit
yourself down; I'll be bringing you the house
specialty.  Here's a good pint of Guinness to see you
to your meal."

"Thanks, I think."  I said to renewed laughter from
Finney and his friends.

The meal was adequate, and the Guinness was very good,
if warm.  Finney came over as I was finishing the
boiled dinner and settled across from me and lit a
cigarette.  "So Ian sent you?  What a darlin' he is.
Shame for me, but no regrets!  So Yank, what part of
the States you from?" He asked.

"California; San Francisco actually, Ian was right,
this was certainly better than a stiff hotel
restaurant.  I gather you are from Ireland, Finney."
I said

"Too right, David, will you be getting over there
while you're on this side the pond?" He asked.

"Fraid not, I leave for Paris next week and will be
going right back to the States after."  I said.

"Well tell Ian to ring me, I do miss that bugger, he's
too handsome by half."  He laughed, "I'd be careful if
I were you, he's broken his share of the boy's
hearts."  He sighed and winked.

Back at the Hotel I called Dale as it was potentially
still working hours there.  The time difference was
too complicated on top of the jet lag.  "Dale, how are
Clark and Bill coming with the contract?"  I asked
"And tell Clark I got the specs for Xcom and I'm going
through them at the moment."  I said eyeing the folder
across the room.

"The contract looks good, he wants me to fax it to
you, and I'll send it tonight which should be your
morning there.  Can you sign it and fax it right
back?"  He paused.

"Uh sure, I don't see why not.  The Hotel should have
the English equivalent of a notary around. I'll fax it
and then we can do the original when I get back out
there.  By the way I'll need to be relocating to
larger quarters for this work.  Looks like I'll be
doing 10 panels at about 10 feet square.  So I was
wondering if you could start making inquiries about a
space in or around Davis that I could convert into a
studio/loft."  I asked.

"Davis?  Why do you want to go out there, we can find
something very suitable over near the harbor.  I'll
get started..."  He started.

"No, Dale.  It needs to be Davis.  Look I think I'm
going to need to be close to UC for a few years.  I
met someone and, well, he is going to be out there, I
know this is out of character for me.  I also will be
talking to you and Clark when I return about branching
my work out some, I'm thinking about taking the Art
Institute up on those discussions we had about opening
an atelier last fall, and I'm thinking about turning
my studio in the city into a design firm that I could
send the things like Xcom and Sonoma over to and still
be in control but let someone else do some of the
work."  I paused, dead silence on the line.  "Dale are
you still there?"  I asked thinking the connection had
been cut.

"Yeah, I'm still here.  You sound serious, Dave, who
is this guy?  What about your career, you are an
internationally known artist.  Your work is hanging in
the best galleries.  Are you planning on walking away
from all this?"  He said.

I laughed, "Of course not, but I also have another
person to think about now.  I can't go on working 80
hours a week and hope to see my lover too."   The
conversation went round and round for a while until I
finally told Dale that we would talk more tomorrow.

I hung up and called Joel's number.  "Hey" His voice
floated into my ear and my dick immediately sprang to
life.  "I was starting to think I was going to have to
call you."  He said and I could hear the smile.

"Sorry, babe, the time difference between here,
California and you is just too much for me right now.
I've been on the phone with Dale all evening trying to
get some things sorted out.  It's tough to row a boat
upstream."  I said and sighed.

"You sound beat.  I have good news though.  I talked
to my advisor, and he was saying that I might take a
leave of absence from here, register for one class
on-line and finish my requirements as a visiting
student at Davis.  Then come back here in the spring,
register and transfer in the credits.  Take one more
on-line class and finish here.  I wouldn't loose any
credits that way and could graduate on schedule.  He
is talking to the Dean of my school to see if I can
get approval."  He said, sounding very excited.

I could hear the excitement and realized that at least
half of my new relationship was making headway.
"That's great lover boy, wish I could reach through
the phone line and kiss you."  I paused and felt the
ache of longing, "I miss you, Joel."  I said quietly.

"Yeah, me too."  He said and sighed.  "Dave, don't let
the dude's in California get you down.  You know what
you want, you'll get there eventually."  He paused
then said, "I love you Dave, even when you're not
around, especially when you're not around."  Joel's
hand strayed to his crotch to ease his aching dick
into a more comfortable position.

I could hear the longing in his voice, my heart
skipped a beat, "Dude, I love you too and would give
anything if I didn't have to be here right now.  I'm
thinking about how I can make it up to you in a couple
of weeks."  I said, and laughed quietly.

I hung up and spent the rest of the evening working on
the sketch I had started of Joel and Flash.

Joel hung up, that night in his bunk, with Carlo
snoring softy above him, he thought of Dave and the
conversation.  He had had to lock Flash up in an empty
stall since Carlo had come back to work, he didn't
like dogs.  Joel couldn't get the sound of Dave's
voice out of his mind, the frustration and need he had
heard there had made him want to hold him.  The
thought of Dave's warm body snuggled up against him
with his crack surrounding his dick was burned in his
mind.  Slowly he let his hand wander down into his
boxers to feel his hot column of flesh.  He touched
the slit and felt the slick wetness of his precum that
had made a wet spot on the cotton.  Slowly he let his
finger trace the slickness around the helmet of his
cock and then slowly slid it down to the pucker
beneath, his dick jerked and he sighed.  Slowly he
wrapped his fingers around his aching shaft, the last
night he had spent with Dave still fresh in his mind.
He could feel the hard sinewy flesh of his shoulders
and the dark treasure trail that led to his generous 6
inch dick.  He remembered the velvety feeling of
Dave's ass wrapped around his own cock as his fist
slowly stroked his throbbing length.  He sighed
quietly as his orgasm flung his cream onto his chest
and stomach, and with his free hand he traced circles
in his chest hair with its warmth.

I awoke to the phone ringing, I picked up.  "Hello?"

"Are you up?"  Ian's voice was familiar but I couldn't
quit place it, then reality hit.

I looked at the digital clock as the numbers clicked
to 0920.  "Shit!  Oh excuse me, Ian.  I'm afraid I'm
still in bed; I must have forgotten to set the alarm
before I went to bed.  I'll be down as soon as I can."
 I said.

"No problem mate, I'll get you some breakfast ordered
up.  What number are you in?"  He asked.

"512, I'll leave the door unlocked."  I said and rang
off.  I jumped for the shower and let the hot water
run over my head to wake me up.  Damn, I thought what
a shitty way to treat the gallery minder.  I let the
water run over my body and thought of Joel and the
last time we had showered.  My dick sprang upward at
the thought.  "No time for you this morning."  I
murmured and turned off the tap and grabbed a towel.
Realizing I had left my clothes in the room I wrapped
the towel securely around my middle and went quickly
into the room to grab my stuff from a drawer.

Ian was lounging in the armchair with a paper cup of
something steaming and what looked like a bag of
croissants.  "Well I'm glad you're up for the
morning."  He said archly looking at the outline of my
semi-erect dick through the towel.

I reddened and grabbed the pile of clothes I had on
the dresser and turned back into the bath.  I shaved
and dressed quickly, comfortable jeans and a loose
knit shirt.  I went back into the room and sat across
from Ian on the edge of the bed.  "Sorry about this
Ian, I'm afraid I was on the phone to California all
evening and then had trouble sleeping."  I took the
cup he handed me and sipped the delicious coffee.

Ian was holding the sketch I had worked on.  "Nice,
you have a way with portraits.  I understand your love
of Sargent."  He said.

"Thanks," I said as I stuffed the last fragment of
croissant into my mouth.  "Ready."  I stood up and
took the sketch from him and put it back in my bag.

We wandered through the Tate and looked at more than
the Sargent's but I paid my homage to the master and
sat in front of his portrait of Mrs. Robert Harrison
for an hour drinking in the subtle shifts of color on
her flaming red dress and white sleeves.  Ian wandered
away and let me contemplate my favorite artist. He
returned some time latter.  "Still at it?" He asked.

I returned from the very special place that a Sargent
in real life always sent me and smiled, "It always
puts me somewhere else to sit in front of one of his
works.  I've been to every one of his publicly
exhibited works in the US.  I made it a type of
artistic pilgrimage.  The best are his 9 watercolors
at the Met.  Of course I had to pull some strings to
see those.  They aren't on public display very often.
His scenes of Venice are some of the most masterful
watercolors of his century."  I sighed.

"Yours are better."  Ian said, not patronizingly or
flatteringly.  He seemed to be completely serious.

"You think so?"  I asked incredulously.

"Of course, or I wouldn't be walking you all over the
Tate like a nanny with a pram."  He laughed.  "Your
work will someday hang in galleries like this.  I know
that the V&A has inquired about some of your work.  If
you were a Brit it would be there already.  Last year
one of your paintings went into the Royal collection
and I can only guess that sometime in the near future
it will be displayed in the Queen's gallery at
Buckingham Palace.  Don't you keep up with who buys
your work?"  He asked amazed.

I laughed rather sadly, "No, I stopped paying
attention to that some time ago.  I just keep track of
the sales figures to keep the accountant honest.  Too
busy painting, I guess."  I said, and sighed.  "I've
been to busy for a lot of things until recently."

"Well you can wake up anytime you'd like.  Your work
is commanding steadily increasing prices.  Most of our
inventory leaves as soon as it arrives at our gallery.
 We are hearing rumors that your inventory is going to
decline due to this trip and then we heard another
rumor just yesterday before the meeting that you were
being offered a monumental commission.  These things
will drive your prices through the roof.  I personally
think you are being poorly served by some of your
people if they aren't telling you to slow down and let
the market demand build.  It will, in the end be more
lucrative for you and less stressful.  I invited the
senior curator of contemporary art at the V&A to the
reception tonight.  I have heard a rumor they would
like to stage a show of the best contemporary
international artists.  When I talked this chap up
your name was of course mentioned.  Things like this
would take your career to another level.  You'd be in
the same league with some of the greatest living
artists.  As I said, someday I don't doubt your work
will hang in these galleries.  Another thing that I
would suggest if your managers haven't is to take
advantage of this break to get fresh eyes.  Your work
is wonderful but a little predictable.  That sketch I
saw this morning is the freshest thing I've seen in
two years.  You have potential still, unlike most of
our artists who have peaked, let it develop."  He
stopped and turned red, "Sorry, I hope I didn't offend
you, but I am passionate about art and your art in
particular."  He finished.

I stood and stared at Ian's red face, thinking about
this new viewpoint on my work.  It had been a long
time since I had received such an honest critique.
"Ian, you have no idea how long it's been since I
received such an honest evaluation, its one of the
problems with success I guess.  I agree with the
predictability, it's the main reason I scheduled this
trip.  Thanks."  I said and patted his shoulder.

We ate lunch and wandered through gallery after
gallery.  "I'd planned to visit the V&A while here
this makes me even more curious about their
collection."  I said.

"Well let's say I pick you up tomorrow at 10:00 and
we'll visit them.  I have a suspicion that some of
curators would be pleased to have you to tea."  He
said.

Before we left I once again found myself in front of a
Sargent.  I was again lost in thought.  I felt hands
on my shoulder and startled.  Ian was standing behind
me; I could feel the heat from his hands penetrating
the thin shirt I was wearing.  My crotch stirred, and
I stepped away from him and smiled.  "I'm ready to
leave now."  I said.

He nodded and we walked back to the tube station.  Ian
told me he would call for me at 6:00 and gave me a
quizzical look, "You'll be ready?"  He asked.

I laughed and said, "You can count on it."

I looked at myself in the mirror, the tobacco colored
slacks and black merino shirt looked really good.
They set off what little tan I had and I added the
cream linen blazer to complete my "look" which I was
under no illusions that it was anything but average.
I added the silver ear cuff I had picked up to match
the bracelet Joel had bought me, and decided I would
quit while I was ahead. The cell phone chirped and I
answered it.

"Dave, Clark here.  Thought I would see how your day
has been and tell you we got the contract sent off to
Kentucky.  The committee will send the initial
installment as soon as they verify the contract. "He
paused, "Dave, I want you to take your time about
these decisions you were sharing with Dale.  We are,
of course, with you but are you sure you want to make
a big turn in your career?  I just want you to be
comfortable with the consequences."

"Well, Clark, at least you understand they are my
consequences to take.  Sometimes I think you and Dale
forget who is calling the shots."  I said coldly, "Now
I expect a list of potential properties to view when I
get back out there.  I've got big things happening
here also that I will share with you, if they develop.
 Now I really must go, Clark, I've got a reception to
get to."  I hung up without really waiting for him to
respond. "Damn him."  I thought.

The cell phone chirped again, "Yes!"  I said, coldly
expecting it to be Clark again.

"Dude, who pee'd in your corn flakes?"  Joel said and
laughed tentatively.

"Oh Christ, sorry babe.  Just got off the phone with
Clark, and thought it was him again.  I'm afraid I cut
him off rather abruptly.  Damn him, I hate to have to
remind these guys who the boss is.  If the painter
stops painting then we all get to starve."  I said and
laughed feeling the heavy mood lift at Joel's smooth
voice.  I hadn't realized when we were face to face
how sexy he sounded.  We talked for a few minutes and
then I realized the time.  Looks like I'm going to be
late again.  I sighed and told Joel I had to get to
the reception.

I walked into the lobby and noticed Ian right away
standing at the front desk; he turned and smiled when
our eyes met.

"Thought I would have to come up and run you out
again."  He said and laughed.

"Yeah, I'm sorry.  Trying to conduct business from
half a world away isn't easy."  I said.

"Achh, I thought you were on holiday.  Let the
accountants go hang for a few days."  He said and
laughed, "Good enough for them, if you ask me."  He
looked me up and down, "Right, you'll do."  He said
and I joined in his laughter.

The gallery was lit with a warm golden light and there
was a very good pianist playing something jazzy and
mellow.  Ian led me over to the bar; I asked for
whiskey and reminded the barman that I was a "yank" by
asking for ice.  We made the round of the crowd.  The
gallery had managed to attract a rather large eclectic
group, and I found myself enjoying the conversations
that Ian got me involved in.  The group was thinning
when Ian introduced me to the Curator from the V&A.  I
found him to be a strange little man with pebble
glasses and a wheezy voice.  He was excited when Ian
told him of our intended trip to his museum in the
morning and quickly invited us to tea before we left.
I wandered away from the Ian after a while and stood
listening to the pianist who nodded.  I thought he was
very good, actually and wondered what he was doing
here.

"You got a request, mate?"  He looked at me and
smiled.

"You know any Nat King Cole?"  I asked and smiled.

"Well I just might, I'll tell you what if you pick one
I know, you have to sing it, if not I'll sing one I do
know."  He said and looked evilly at me and smiled.

I thought a moment and took another sip of my nearly
gone whiskey, (always my downfall) and said, "OK, Non
Dimenticar."

He laughed, "You loose, Mate." and started the intro.


"Damn it."  I sat down the glass and started singing
very softly, "Non Dimenticar, means don't forget you
are, my darling.  Don't forget to be, all you mean to
me.  Non Dimenticar, my love is like a star, my
darling.  Shining bright and clear, just because
you're near..."

Ian walked up and looked at me and smiled a slow
smile.  I stopped at what I thought I saw there and
let the melody go on.  "Don't stop, mate."  The
pianist said, "That wasn't half bad.  You like Nat
King Cole?"  I nodded.

"Go on," Ian said softly.

I could feel my face flush and said, "I don't remember
the rest, besides you both have to be tone deaf."

The pianist laughed and said, "Right mate, here's
another and I'll help you sing it."  The piano started
into the slow intro then he raised his voice to the
crooning tones of "Mona Lisa".  I helped very softly,
"Is it only cause you're lonely, they have claimed
you, for that Mona Lisa strangeness in your style."

Ian looked from one to the other smiled and then went
toward the bar.

`So what are you doing playing in a place like this?"
I asked the pianist when we had finished.

He barked out a laugh and said, "Its rent, while I'm
waiting for my big break.  Besides it beats playing
scales in my bed-sitter.  You've done this before
haven't you?"

"Well I use to have to finance my artistic addiction
in some creative ways.  I spent a little time with a
small jazz ensemble.  We did mostly parties and a few
hotel gigs."  I said, my mind drifting back to the
co-op days.

The pianist laughed and I stuck a 20 pound note in his
tip glass and turned to find Ian standing holding
another old fashion glass with apparently whiskey and
ice out to me.  I took the glass and sipped it.

"I play tomorrow night at a Hotel in Kensington, come
on over mate and I'll let you sing for your supper."
The pianist said and winked at me.

Ian said, "Ready to go to dinner?"  I nodded and
thanked the pianist again.  I took my leave of the
owner, got rid of my glass and met Ian at the door.

He had a cab waiting and I climbed in.  Ian gave a
string of directions that I couldn't follow.  "Hope
you don't get run over because I wouldn't know how to
reverse those directions."  I said and laughed.

Dinner was excellent, the wine was a Sonoma vintage
and as always I couldn't help but look at the label,
sure enough it was one of mine.  Ian once again was
good company, and I felt the worries about Joel and
the upcoming move and all the hassles with Dale and
Clark recede as we laughed.

We stood in the misty rain waiting for a cab the
street lights were ringed with halos from the mist.
We were near the river; I could hear the hoot of a
boat horn. I was warm and mellow from the meal and the
drinks.  Ian was standing near, talking about my
singing and how he couldn't believe I once sang in a
band.  Then he was facing me very close looking at me.
 I once again saw the look in his face that I dreaded.
 "Why don't you come back to my place, Dave?"  He
whispered and leaned closer.  I felt the brush of his
lips and stepped back only to be brought up short
against the lamp post.  He pushed harder against my
closed lips, and brought his hands up and ran them
across my chest.  He suddenly broke off then stepped
back.  "It's the bloke in the sketch, isn't it?"  He
said.

I nodded and whispered, "I'm sorry, Ian."

"Lucky sod!"  He said and laughed harshly.

The cab arrived and I got in, Ian talked to the driver
and then at the door said, "He will take you back to
your hotel, Dave.  I think I need to walk a while.
I'll see you in the morning."  He slammed the door and
the cab pulled away from the curb, I watched as his
form under the streetlight was lost to view.

I walked into the room, and dropped onto the bed.  I
looked at the sketch and thought about Ian and what
had happened.  I knew I hadn't intentionally led him
on, he was very attractive and we shared a lot of the
same interests, but looking at the sketch I knew I was
taken.  I believed for maybe the first time that
everything would work out.
-------
Between Dave's phone calls Joel was trying to stay
busy as the days crawled by.  There was the work that
needed finishing up on the farm.  He had told C.V.
that he wouldn't be staying this fall, C.V. had looked
at him long and hard and then said, "You know Joel, I
think you're going to make a great Vet.  I was telling
Bill Franklin that very thing just yesterday.  Bill
works at UC-Davis in the Vet program.  He told me to
tell you that he can always use an experienced
horseman at that Vet Hospital he has out there.  When
you and Dave get settled give him a call." He paused
then shook hands with Joel.  "I'm sure we'll be seeing
you around when Dave has to come back into town.  I
want you to know you're always welcome here."  He said
and turned back to his paperwork.

Joel was going through his stuff at home trying to get
as many of his books boxed up and his clothes and
electronics packed for the long drive.  He was sitting
cross legged in the middle of his bedroom floor
surrounded by four years of college text books and
animal care books trying to sort what would go and
what would stay, when his Mom walked in and leaned on
the door jam, "You gonna take all those books?  You'll
bottom out that old truck's springs with all that."
She said and laughed.

Joel smiled up at the most important woman in his
life.  She was a diminutive lady, with dirty blond
hair that was graying at the temples.  She was still
slim thanks to all the hard work she did around the
place and at the sewing factory.  He held out his hand
and she took it.  "I'm gonna miss you Mom."  He said.

She sniffed, "Boy I'm going to miss you too.  Guess
this happens to everyone when kids grow up they leave
home.  I know there is something goin on here you
haven't told me about, but I'm gonna let you take your
time to get it out.  I just want you to know that
whatever or whoever it is, I love you and always
will."

Joel looked at her in surprise, "What do you mean,
goin on, I'm going out there to go to school."  He
finished lamely.

His Mom laughed and cuffed him lightly on the cheek,
"Boy, I know you better than you think.  Don't you
know I can read you like a book?  My guess is you've
gone and met someone from out there and you're goin to
be with her.  I worry though that you don't want us to
meet her.  You ashamed of us son?"  She asked.  She
saw her beautiful sons face fall and she knew that she
had hit close to the mark, he wasn't ashamed of them.
She really was worried now.  "Boy, what's wrong with
her.  She married?"  She asked breaking her promise to
herself not to question Joel.

Joel looked at his Mom sadly and said, "No it isn't
like that, Mom."

She waited for the rest, but he turned back to the
stacks of books and her heart clinched.  She bent over
and hugged him from behind, "Boy, you're grown.  I
can't protect you from things like when you was a kid.
 I just want you to know that I still wish I could,
that's how much I love you.   Whatever it is, I will
always love you."  She said and stood up to leave.

"Mom," Joel said, "I'm going out there to be with
someone very special, who I love more than anything
I've ever known.  I'm afraid you and Dad won't
understand it, that's why I'm being so secretive about
it.  Believe me I love you, but maybe I don't want to
hurt you."  He sighed and finished, "Can you
understand that and let it be?"

"Joel, honey, if you say you love them like that, with
that dreamy look, then I can rest easier.  I just hope
she loves you as much.  I know how you are; you've
never done anything by halves, always full speed.  My
only advice is making sure she loves you just as much.
 I don't want to see my baby hurt."  She said and
left.

----
London continued to be rainy and dreary, Ian and I had
done the V&A and I had taken tea with the curators,
they approached me about participating in the exhibit
and I told them I would certainly be interested.  They
would send me the specifications when they had them
finalized; the tentative date was next year so I had
time to evaluate my work.  We never discussed his
kiss, I didn't want to embarrass him and I could only
assume he didn't want to offend me.  The relationship
was considerably more professional now.  A few days
after the V&A trip he asked, as usual what I was
planning for the next day and the weekend, I told him
I was going shopping on Portobello Road and then maybe
a side trip for the weekend.

"Side trip, where to? Ian asked.

"Edinburgh, to see the portrait of Lady Agnew at the
National Gallery."  I said.  "I can't possibly be this
close and not go see it.  Most people agree it is one
of Sargent's best.  I go to Paris next week so this is
my only chance."  I said.

"Right, I'll book us both seats.  We can leave at
400pm and be in Edinburgh in time for dinner.  I can
put you up in my house there; actually it is my
parent's house.  It's just a short walk to the
gallery."  He said.  "We'll go the Gallery on Sunday
and come back on the evening train.

I paused and looked at him, "Ian, I don't know..."  I
started and he interrupted.

"No funny stuff, promise."  He said and smiled with
some of his old character.

"OK.  Do you know any secrets about shopping on the
Road?"  I asked and smiled.

"Take lots of cash," He said and we laughed.

The stalls were crowded even though the Saturday
weather was as usual raining.  I milled around not
really knowing what I wanted to buy for Joel.  I
thought about jewelry, but he didn't wear any and in
his line of work it wasn't very practical.  I was
wandering past a book stall when something caught my
eye.  I went to the stall and started looking through
the old book.

"You have a good eye, Sir.  That's 18th century, the
engravings were done by Stubbs."  He said as I flipped
through the pages.  "As you can see it is a reference
book on equine anatomy.  That's a first edition
printed 1750 right here in London.  You'll note the
Royal Warrant on the frontispiece.  The binding is
original hide with Moroccan insets.  I don't have a
complete provenance, but my guess is it was owned by
Sir Joshua Middleton, Horse Master to George I."  He
explained.

"A friend of mine is going to Veterinary School and I
am looking for a gift for him." I said.

"Ah, well he is one lucky young man to have you for a
friend, if I may say.  That is a very rare book indeed
especially in this condition which I can only call
very fine."  He answered.

The rich leather binding and creamy vellum pages were
delightful, and of course the illustrations were
superb.  I asked the price, knowing it really wouldn't
matter.  We haggled a little and I got what I consider
a fair price.  The book seller threw in a Victorian
sleeve that fit the volume nicely.  I wandered on
through the stalls until time for lunch and went back
to the Hotel.

Ian called up at exactly 2:45 from the lobby and
wondered if I could hurry as the cab had the meter
running.  I grabbed my backpack and we were soon on
the way to King's Cross.

We entered Ian's parents' stately row house; I was
surprised that the home was large, regency from the
look and furnished with period pieces.  A plump gray
haired lady came towards us down the hall, she took
our raincoats and bags, "Your Mother is in the drawing
room, Sir."  She said quietly.

Ian smiled at her and said, "Dave, this is Mrs.
Gorley, she is my mother's housekeeper."

I said, "How do you do, "extending my hand.  Mrs.
Gorley took my hand and bobbed a curtsy, which made me
blush.

Ian chuckled and led the way to his Mother.  She was
sitting in a Louis XV chair in front of an Adam
fireplace.  A very tiny lady with grey hair perfectly
coifed.  She was wearing a royal blue silk dress and a
string of pearls.  Ian said, "Hello, Mum.  Hope you
haven't waited dinner for us."  He bent and kissed her
cheek.  "Mum this is David Holland, the artist; I sell
his work at the gallery.  David this is my mother,
Lady Margaret McAllister."

I bowed slightly and took the hand she extended, "How
do you do, Ma'am."  I said

"Quit well, thank you, Ian has told me about your
wonderful work.  I am quit cross with you Ian, you
could have given us a little more notice and I would
have had some friends in for dinner.  As it is David,
it is just us.  I hope you like salmon; you see they
are running right now so they are very fresh."  She
said and continued a stream of society talk sprinkled
with gossip and questions about my work and Ian's job.
 The dinner was delicious; Mrs. Gorley was to be
commended.  Ian explained his father was out of the
country so it was just the three of us.  We finished
and Lady Margaret retired wishing us a good night.
Ian led me into the Library and poured brandy.  We
settled into a pair of leather club chairs in front of
the empty fireplace.

"Lady, Margaret?  I had no idea your family is titled,
Ian.  You could have told me.  I would have dressed
for it."  I laughed.

"I try to forget the title part.  It has mostly been a
burden, I'm afraid I'm too much the republican to
enjoy a title when it comes to me.  Besides if I had
told you, I wouldn't have been party to your
embarrassment when Mrs. Gorley curtsied."  He chuckled
again.

We retired and I found the guest room to be
comfortable.  I grabbed my cell phone and soon Joel's
voice filled my ear, "Hey dude, having a good time?"
He asked.

"Yes actually, tomorrow I get to see my favorite
painting in person.  I bought you a present today.
You'll have to wait till I get back to find out what
it is."  I teased.

"Cool..." he said and was quiet.

"Joel, are you ok?" I asked, he was clearly not into
talking at the moment.

"Yeah, Dude, I'm fine.  Just got some things on my
mind.  Been home, talked to my Mom.  Like you said, it
can be tough not telling her.  I'm so in love with you
my heart wants to tell the whole world but my brain
tells me I shouldn't.  She is guessing a lot, she
thinks you are a she and must be married.  I told her
that wasn't it.  Don't know what she'll come up with
next."  He sighed.

"Would it make you feel better to tell her?  Would you
like me to help you tell her when I get back?"  I
asked trying to think of something I could say from
2500 miles away that would make the man I love feel
better.

"I don't know, I just wish you were here to hold."  He
said.  "I don't want to hurt her, or you.  I just want
us to be together."  He laughed and said, "Hell, I bet
you are feeling much better now, huh?"

"I love you, Joel, no matter what."  I paused then
said brightly, "I can tell you, your present isn't a
BMW.  I didn't think it would fit in my carry-on."  I
said and sighed.

Lady Agnew was magnificent, Ian wandered around while
I sat and stared at the expression on her face.  It
looked like any minute she was going to tell you a
joke and was trying not to laugh before the punch
line.

On the train back to London, Ian asked if I was ok.

"Yes, just worried about someone."  I said and smiled.

"Your bloke giving you fits?"  He asked, exhaling
cigarette smoke.

"Well not exactly.  Have you told your parents about
yourself Ian?"  I asked.

"You mean that I'm a pouf?"  He said sarcastically,
"Yes, when I was 16.  My Mum nearly fainted and my
Father sent me to therapy.  We finally talked, and I
can honestly say they are quietly appalled.  But they
love me so they haven't disowned me or anything.  I
think they think if they don't talk about it, it will
go away.  They, of course see my reproduction as a
duty, the title and all that claptrap."  He looked at
me and said, "That the problem?"

"Yeah, I've never told my parents and I live with it,
of course being on the other side of the country
helps.  Joel however is just discovering how difficult
it can be to live that kind of double life with people
you love."  I said, "Hell he didn't even know he was a
pouf, as you so charmingly put it, until I came
tipping into his life.  Now I feel somehow
responsible."  I sighed, "Isn't love grand."

He looked at me sadly and said, "I wouldn't know, I'm
afraid."

We were silent, lost in our thoughts the rest of the
trip.

Joel was finishing up the trimming at the big house,
when Ingrid asked if he would go down to the
guesthouse and open the windows so it could air, they
would be expecting a guest the next evening.  Joel
walked down the familiar path and went into the silent
sitting room.  He opened the windows and went through
to the bedroom.  He looked at the big bed that had
cradled him and Dave, he sat down on the bed and the
up rush of air brought the faint fragrance of Dave to
him.  He slowly pressed his face down into one of the
pillows and inhaled the scent of his lover.  He sighed
and tears came to his eyes.  He was interrupted
abruptly with the chirping of his phone.

"Hey lover boy, what's up?" Dave's voice floated into
his ear.

"Do you really want to know what's up at this very
moment?  I'm down at the guesthouse and I can still
smell you on the bedclothes.  I will leave it to your
imagination what is up."  He said and smiled.

"How are things with your Mom?"  Dave asked.

"Well about the same, she feels betrayed because I
won't tell her what is happening.  I'll be glad to get
on the road.  How's Paris?"  He asked

Dave could hear the sadness in his voice.  "Well
that's what I wanted to ask you about. I met with the
gallery this morning, and was wondering if you could
pick me up at the airport in the morning."  He said.

Joel's heart skipped a beat, "In the morning?  But you
aren't supposed to be back until next week, what
gives?"  He asked.

"Well, I've been thinking about you and how much I
miss you and how much I want to hold you.  So I talked
with the gallery as soon as I got off the plane.  They
were happy to move the meeting up.  After the meeting
there wasn't any reason to stay here.  I called Delta
and by golly they just happen to have one seat left on
the evening flight to New York.  I'm at the gate
waiting to board.  I will have to find a connector in
New York to somewhere close to you.  Don't know where
yet.  I'm hoping I can hop a flight to Cincinnati.
Think you could come up there and get me?"  He asked.
Joel's heart was beating fast and his throat wouldn't
work right.

"Sure, dude.  Let me know which and I'm there.  I
can't believe it, you're coming home.  God, I love
you."  He said.

To be continued...