“Ramsey is what? Midforties?”
“Something like that, I’d guess.”
“His boyfriend is Bobby’s age.”
“That sly old dog. Way to go, Ramsey.”
“Aren’t you shocked?” Noah said
“Why should I be? May-December romances aren’t all that unusual.”
“He’s old enough to be the guy’s father.”
“So what?” Tom said.
“So nothing. I guess. I just find it hard to grasp.”
They found a parking spot in the middle of the downtown strip and explored the shops fully, from one end to the other, winding up at the bakery. “So many calories,” he said, eyeing the displays of goodies.
“Yeah, and they all look so tempting.”
They restrained themselves and purchased only two loaves of bread and one small box of pastries. Driving back through Maggie Valley, Noah said, “Why don’t we treat ourselves to a first-class lunch?”
“I’m game. What did you have in mind?”
“J. Arthur’s is just up the road.”
“We can do that.”