Page 114 of A Much Younger Man
Captain Romance?
What a great superhero name for me.
It is I, Captain Romance.
“So it is.” Beck snorted. “How much did you drink, big guy?”
“Wait—did I say that out loud? Just a couple glasses of wine. I’m silly but not drunk. You’re too important to me to do this drunk.”
“Mmhmm.” I took hold of the wagon’s handle and started walking. Beck stayed where he was. “Yep. Your whole ass looks good in those jeans.”
“Of course it does. C’mon Callie.”
Callie trotted toward me. She barked as if to say, “Let’s go home.”
I smiled stupidly. “Home.”
“Boop.”Even the bird had his say.
“Boop,” Beck echoed. We ambled along as if we were already a little family.
On the way, silence built around us. Maybe that was a two-edged thing about Beck. I loved his stillness, but it could be weird too. I talked in order to put others at ease.
Repeat people’s names.
Repeat their pet’s names.
Ask about their day. Talk about their animal.
Find something you like about them and tell them about it.
“Is that what you do?” Beck asked.
“Goddamnit.” Why couldn’t I keep my thoughts to myself? Beck’s eyes sparkled like gems in water. Oh, well, if he was laughing with me and not at me, that was okay.
“You really talked to your dad about me?”
“More like he pulled me aside and lectured me.”
“What about your mother?”
“She’ll come around.”Or she won’t.“I’m done looking for approval where my feelings are concerned.”
His eyes widened. “I see.”
“Well, I guess I wouldn’t mind your approval.”
“In that case…” He made me wait for it. “I approve.”
His words made me smile like I don’t know what. I wore a wide, huge, drooling grin, and I didn’t even care.
Let the world see it.
I glanced at Beck, chagrinned, but apparently I managed to only think those words.
“What made you pick the Beatles?” he asked.
“It’s not because of my age.” I said testily. “I’m not a boomer. It just fit.”
He nudged me with his elbow. “Better than ‘When I’m Sixty-Four’?”
“Shutup.”Ineeded no reminders that I’d get there long before him, thank you very much.
“Honestly, though,” he said as we walked up the porch steps at my place, “forty’s the new thirty, and I’m an old soul. We’re gonna be just fine.”
I met his serious gaze. “You think so?”
“I know so.” He stood on tiptoe and kissed me without breaking eye contact. “Iknowso.”
