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"No," he said shaking his head. "I didn't want to make too much of that. Lots of older men have younger girlfriends. Summer. Some women like more mature men. They're looking for a father figure."

"Oh, suddenly you're an expert on what women like and female psychology?" I asked.

He smiled.

"Hardly."

"I wasn't talking about the furniture in this house. Harley, or the worn rugs or anything like that. I found a door that led down a short stairway to a basement room where old things are kept."

"Oh?" He paused now, holding his clothes. "I'd better get washed up," he whispered. "You heard what he said about being on time for dinner."

He kept walking. "Harley!"

"Don't take too long, you guys," I heard his grandfather call up the stairway.

"Just let me wash up first, Summer. We've got all night to talk about it."

"Harley. wait."

He went into the bathroom and closed the door.

Frustrated. I stood there listening to the shower start. I was going to stand there and wait for him to come out of the bathroom, but his grandfather came up the stairs to get something in another room so I had to move down the hallway and pretend I was doing things to get ready for dinner, too. He saw me a

nd began to talk about the food,

"I bet you never ate nothing like it," he said. "First time Suze cooked for me. I thought her food was more than just food. It makes you feel good inside, like magic. I know that sounds silly, but maybe you'll see. Your mother a good cook?"

"She doesn't cook much anymore." I said. "We have an Irishwoman who's been with us forever and she's a wonderful cook."

"Oh." he said, nodding thoughtfully.

Harley emerged, his hair brushed neatly, his face cleanly shaven,

"You look real handsome, son," his grandfather said. He turned to me. "And despite your bad ankle. Summer, you look very nice too."

"Let's eat," Harley cried, slapping his hands together. His grandfather laughed. They looked at me, waiting like gentlemen for me to go ahead.

Reluctantly. I started down the stairs ahead of them, listening to them babble on and on about the work they had done today.

At dinner their conversation was about other jobs his grandfather had held in his life. I listened carefully, waiting to hear something that would make Harley question who he really was. From the way he spoke, he seemed to have worked his way around the world, doing everything from being an electrician to a waiter. When could he even have had a chance to meet Aunt Glenda? I thought, and hoped Harley had the same question in his mind.

"You did so many interesting things." Harley said instead.

"When you're hungry, you're innovative." his grandfather declared. "You learn how to survive, and that, my son, is the best sort of education. It prepares you for every hardship and every disappointment in life. Kids today have it too easy. Everything's done for them." he said, glancing at me. "Parents think if they give them more, they'll love them more and be better people for it. Don't believe it. Something you earn with your own sweat and effort has more value to you."

"I believe that," Harley said. He looked at me and smiled. "Neither of us is spoiled, if that's what you might think."

"Oh no. no. One look tells me that you both have some grit, and that comes from self-confidence. Ain't this just the most delicious meal you ever had," he declared.

"It's different. I'm finding brand new flavors and tastes." Harley said. "Right, Summer?"

"Different," I said.

Suze had been staring at me throughout the meal. It made me very nervous and I tried to avoid her eyes, which I guess only confirmed suspicions. His grandfather appeared to notice.

"I guess Suze showed you her holy room today. eh. Summer?" he asked.

I looked at Harley.