He drained his coffee. “Do you think he'd mind if I went over and said hello?"

But as Gideon put the cup down, Tremaine and his party began getting up. Tremaine nodded curtly to the others and headed for the exit, his limp quite marked. He was smaller than he appeared to be on television, perhaps five-nine. His path brought him within a few feet, and Gideon stood as he approached.

"Dr. Tremaine? My name is Gideon Oliver. I'm a great admirer of your work-"

He stopped, startled. The dessert menu card he'd absently continued to hold had been snatched from him by Tremaine. “Certainly,” the silver-haired television star said. “Delighted."

Tremaine plucked a pen from the inside of his jacket, scrawled something across the card, thrust it back into Gideon's hand, and went on his way.

Gideon stared at his back for a moment, then looked down at the card.

"Happy voyages,” it said. “Best wishes, M. Audley Tremaine."

****

As he did most mornings, Gideon awakened just before the alarm clock was due to go off. And as he did most mornings, he found himself nestled against Julie's back. He sighed, nuzzled her neck, and reached out to click off the alarm before it buzzed.

Julie stirred and muttered into the pillow, “It can't be six o'clock already. It can't be."

"I'm afraid it is."

She groaned softly and turned herself into him, snuggling her chin into the hollow of his shoulder. For a while they lay quietly, pressed against each other, dozing and content. For Gideon, this was perhaps the best part of the day. Was he at heart such a pessimist that he should awaken each morning filled with gratitude, with relief, almost with amazement, at having her lying by his side?

"I love you,” he said. He bent his head to kiss her hair.