Page 80 of Something Like Hail

Marcello tilted his head to one side. “Whatwe cannot find deep within ourselves, we should seek out inothers.”

“You want me to recruithim? Seems like he’s happy enough being a waiter.”

“You’re being exceptionallydense today.”

Noah stared. “You want metodatehim? Like for real? He’s a teenager!Not to mention that he—”

—had returned with cheesybiscuits and two side salads. Noah held his tongue, which was amistake because it gave Marcello free rein to wag hisown.

“Older or younger?”Marcello said, offering the waiter a serene smile.

“Sorry?” Felix said,concentrating on setting down their dishes.

“When you date, do youprefer someone younger or older?”

“Oh.” Felix stood up, hisface red again. “I don’t have a lot of experience.”

“None at all?”

Felix tittered nervously. “Just a little. Ihad a boyfriend for three weeks, but we were the same age.Actually, he was a few months older than me so—”

“Then you do have apreference!” Marcello said, looking ready to pounce. “Older,although from the panic in your eyes, not excessively so. Perhapssomeone the same age as my hopelessly single friendhere?”

Felix’s eyes darted to Noah once more butdidn’t remain there. Then he laughed like he was the victim of aprank. “Yeah right. If only! Um. Your food will be right out.” Thenhe turned and hurried away.

If only? That would have been flattering ifthe situation wasn’t so embarrassing. “What are you doing?”

“Enjoying myself,” Marcellosaid shamelessly. “You should try it sometime.”

“I’m perfectly happy theway things are.”

“Are you?”

“Why wouldn’t Ibe?”

Marcello’s full attention was on thebiscuits as he pinched off bite after bite. He snacked in silence,the topic forgotten. Noah had relaxed just enough to start on hissalad when his boss spoke again.

“It’s a little miracle,really.”

“What is?”

“This.” Marcello wiped hisfingers on a cloth napkin, then used them to fish out a cube of icefrom his drink. He set it on the table between them. “What isthis?”

“Ice,” Noah said. “Youknow, the stuff they put around champagne bottles to make themcold.”

“Wrong,” Marcello replied.“It’s water that was placed in a particular climate, one that madeit hard and unyielding. But look at what is happening, even now.The ice is melting.”

Sure enough, a small puddle was beginning toform around the cube.

“They didn’t teach youabout this in school?” Noah asked.

Marcello ignored the question. “This littlecube could have remained in the freezer for years, and no matterhow hopeless the situation might have seemed, it was never toolate. This heatless condition isn’t permanent. If given the rightopportunity—if circumstances are generous enough—the ice can returnto water again, free to flow and change shape or perhaps evenevaporate into the air. I’ve always felt that water was the mostpassionate of the elements. Some may equate desire with flames, butit’s liquid that courses through our hearts with each beat, notfire. Water cleanses. It sustains! And it constitutes the majorityof our being. Rather like certain emotions, wouldn’t youagree?”

Noah’s throat felt tight. “I think you’vehad too much to drink.”

“Perhaps you’re right.”Marcello helped himself to another pinch of biscuit. Afterswallowing, he said, “Harold visited me the other day.”

“Oh.” Noah waited for himto say more. The last thing he wanted was to express interest, buthe couldn’t help himself. “How’s he doing?”