Page 7 of My Darling Clementine

“Oh, now, that’s not true.” said Clem, shaking her head. “I wish it were.”

Jim glanced from An to Clem. “No, he’s got a point. Tom was convinced he’d discovered the next great American author, he mentioned how thrilled he was when Tines sent a second article and hoped the young writer would continue to submit.” Jim frowned. “After years of disparaging your skill, you literally made him pay for it.”

Clem’s head was spinning with new thoughts.

“Tom Dennison was rigorously honest with himself, and would have had to admit to himself, if no one else, that he was wrong about your skill and talent, and always had been.” An put a hand on Clem’s arm until she looked at him. “He envied who you’d become.”

“He wanted me to be just like my mother.”

“He may have wanted that,” said Jim with a warm smile, “but you took after your father and turned out to be a better ‘man’ than he was.”

As their manservant entered the dining room carrying a tray laden with coffee and peach cobbler, both steaming, An was telling them, “I remember Tom saying something about the future for Dennis Tines, now what was it?”

“If I may, sir,” answered Charles, “Mr. Dennison said, ‘What I wouldn’t give to be Dennis Tines, just starting out, full of talent, with a taste for adventure. And the lucky son of a bitch also struck gold.’” While pouring coffee, he met Clem’s eye. “A comment I now find ironic.”

An gazed at the tall, older man with clear affection. “Charles, would you mind if I told Mr. Dennison what you shared with me the other day?”

Charles’ eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Uh, well, if you think it’s important.” He hurried from the room, tossing over his shoulder, “He was a nice boy.”

Jim reached across the table and slapped An’s hand. “What are you doing to that poor man?”

“It’s not a secret,” said An with a grin. “He told Clem a month ago he’s also homosexual, although not a practicing one.”

“It takes practice?” teased Jim.

Now An slapped Jim’s hand. “I stand corrected; an unattached one. Behave, Daddy.”

“Daddy?” Clem looked from one to the other.

“A legal technicality,” explained Jim. “An is my adopted son and legal ward. When my brother’s greedy children started making comments about inheriting childless bachelor Uncle Jimmy’s entire estate, I needed a way to protect An. Now he carries my name, and is my sole legal heir.”

“But he’s an adult, not a child. How can you adopt an adult as a son?”

“An is almost a dozen years younger than I, and we met when I was twenty-eight. He looked even younger, and with only his word for his age, we convinced the judge he was only thirteen.”

“Which makes me three years younger, legally.” He fanned his face, pretending an innocence long lost. “I’m only twenty-nine,” An laughed, “while you’re forty-four. You robbed the cradle, old man.”

Jim looked at him and quirked his lip. “Don’t make me spank you, baby,” he warned with a light in his eye. “What is it Charles shared with you that requires Clem knowing he’s an unattached homosexual?”

“What?” An shook his head. “Oh yes, that. We were doing the laundry and chatting about our trip to Vienna last year.”

“Vienna.” Clem nodded, impressed. “Do you travel often?”

“Whenever we get the chance. Last year we explored Austria for two weeks.” He turned to Jim. “Remember das Ritter da Nacht, the night club for homosexuals?”

Jim laughed. “Knight of the Night? How could I forget.” He turned to Clem. “It was a private establishment, a club for men in higher society to mix and mingle outside of the regular venues. Very discreet, a high class place where everyone wore fine evening wear, except for some exceptionally pretty young men who wore…” He shrugged, his expression amused.

“Very little,” supplied An with glee. “Finding places like it is one reason we travel so much, and we always offer to take Charles with us.” He looked at Clem. “I’m a romantic at heart, and keep hoping Charles will find his special someone at one.” He gazed at Jim, eyes twinkling. “That’s how we met, at a similar place in Spain.”

Clem suspected An might have been one of the ‘exceptionally pretty young men’, still very handsome in his early thirties.

“Anyway, we were hanging clothes on the line, and Charles said you reminded him of Gerhardt, the boy he spent several nights with, especially his attractive face and tight ass. He thinks Clem would be very popular at Ritter da Nacht.”

“Uh,” Clem said, not sure how to interpret that.

“He means it as a compliment.” Jim grinned. “He’s saying you’re a striking young man, who is sexually attractive.”

“But to men? Jim, I spent my whole life avoiding the attention of men.”