His breathing was labored as Lawrence moved back up to lie beside him. “Not too old to learn new tricks, Law.”
Lawrence laughed and kissed Curtis. “You make me want to learn things. Sculpture and the art of sucking cock are two things on my mind right now.”
“And you’re doing very well with one of them, so let’s shower and head up to the Getty. I’ll drive.” Curtis kissed back and stepped to the shower.
“All right. I know we signed up for this.” Lawrence rolled out of bed. He stretched and padded toward the bathroom.
“Yes. I noticed you haven’t set up your Keurig yet.”
“I bought it after…” He stopped at the door and turned around. “I just want you to know I don’t have an architect, so I’ve only got one showerhead.” He grinned.
Curtis slapped him on the chest, “But you’ve got blue tile.” He pushed Lawrence into the room. “I figured it was new. Hell, the French press makes great coffee too.”
“I’ve had that thing for years. We’ll get the coffee, and then how about brunch near the Getty?” Lawrence switched the handle to get the shower going.
“Sounds great. Now get in.” Curtis stepped into the tub behind Lawrence.
The shower and coffee set the mood for the rest of the day. They relaxed for a few minutes on the patio sipping the coffee. Lawrence had poured cream and sugar into small containers, and Curtis was out on the patio in a white T-shirt and tailored sweatpants. Lawrence walked out in tight blue jeans with a green-and-yellow plaid shirt.
“How long have you lived here?” Curtis stretched out and sipped from his cup.
“Forever, it seems,” Lawrence said.
“Do you like it?” Curtis was inquisitive.
“I do. It’s close to everything, and the neighborhood is so quiet. I can jog without getting hit by a bus or a tourist.” He laughed.
“Why would you want to sell it?” Curtis prodded.
Lawrence choked on the sip he’d just taken. “What?” He tilted his head.
“Your next-door neighbor told me you were selling the place.” He motioned toward the old biddy’s house.
“She’s just nosy. I told her I’ve been thinking now that I’m older, I should get a studio someplace.” He looked at the fence dividing their properties.
“Oh, don’t do that. Don’t live cramped. This place is perfect. The pool, that hot tub, the house is gorgeous. I mean, if you want to move into the city, it’s not my place to tell you no, though I guess I just did.” Curtis drank to shut himself up.
“Look, Mrs. Biddle is a vile woman who can’t handle having had to live next to a homosexual for most of her life. I’ve lived here longer, but when she and her family moved in, they set a new bar for ‘nosy neighbor.’” Lawrence gripped the edge of the table.
“She gave me a mouthful this morning. She was the one who caught me walking through the house naked.” Curtis grinned.
Lawrence spewed the coffee. “Oh, that’s precious… I don’t think she’s seen a naked man, ever. I’m surprised she had the strength to talk to you.”
Curtis got up to get a paper towel. “I saw these earlier. Here.” He handed it to Lawrence. “I wouldn’t call it talking. I’d say it was more like squawking.”
Lawrence wiped his chin and pulled off his shirt. “She’d made up her mind you were my Uber or something. I think she thought you were my son.” Lawrence got up to change his shirt.
“Well, I’ll let her in on the secret if I see her again.” Curtis looked at his watch. “Let’s head out. I think we can find a place overlooking the ocean for brunch on the way.”
They walked down the driveway to the Roadster. Lawrence slid in, and Curtis looked around for the angry woman. She was nowhere to be seen, so he slipped in behind the wheel. He took the top down and crept past the front of her house, and there she was, spying out the window.
“Oh, shit. I left my wallet on the bed. Can I have the key to your front door? I’ll be right back.” Curtis took the keys and disappeared into the house. A few seconds later and he was back.
Lawrence was standing outside the car. “Give me the keys, I’ll drive us. I’ve been thinking after that accident last night, I want to make sure that you’ve got it easy.” Lawrence held out his hand.
“Are you sure? Have you driven a sports car before?” Curtis asked.
“It’s a Mercedes? Yes, I’ve driven a car or two like this before.” He smiled.
Curtis handed him the keys, and left a sloppy, sexy kiss on Lawrence’s lips. He turned toward the old lady in the window, smacked his ass, and lifted his fingers to his eyes in a gesture that meant, “I see you.”
“What was that for?” Lawrence asked and then saw her scowl in the window, as he was getting behind the steering wheel.
As Curtis slid into the passenger seat, he snorted. “I wanted to show her that I wasn’t your family.”
“But you are family, Blanche, you are!” Lawrence lisped, like an old drag queen friend of his.
Curtis placed his hand on Lawrence’s leg. “Law, thank you for that.”
“Anytime, my friend.” They laughed as Curtis drove off.
“Do you know of a place to eat?” Curtis asked as he drove toward Ocean Boulevard.
“There’s a nice place in Malibu. We can take our time getting up to the Villa,” Lawrence said.
“Do you know the name of the place?”
“Crap, it’s been a while. I don’t know… It’s on the pier, that’s what I remember.”
Curtis pulled up his GPS and typed in Malibu Pier. “This way. Even if we can’t remember the name, it’ll get us to the pier.”
They arrived with time enough to spare for a nice brunch and still get to the Getty on time. “Good driving. Nothing too racy in the fog.” Lawrence said.
“That car handles like a breeze. I’ve loved it since the first day I test drove it. Have you ever thought of getting a Mercedes?” Curtis asked as they were seated at a table.
Lawrence sighed a little longer than normal. “I flirted with the idea, but I love the Metropolitan. She’s a beautiful car, inside and out.”
“Are you talking about the Roadster?” Curtis grinned and picked up the menu.
“I am,” Lawrence whispered, “but don’t tell the Metro. The scramble looks great, and would you mind if I had a Bloody Mary?”
Curtis laughed. “Not at all. I was going to have a mimosa.”
“But just one…” Lawrence made dad eyes at him. “The road to the Villa is really windy.”
“Yes, Dad.” They both looked up and grinned.
The drinks were brought and soon after the eggs.
“This might be my last meal for a while,” Curtis joked.
“Why?” Lawrence looked surprised.
“Last night was my last day at the ER. I’m free from the confines of the hospital. But still no word on the patient list.” He scooped up the eggs.
“Well, I’ve got some money, if you need it to tide you over.”
Curtis laughed. “I’m sorry if that came out wrong. I was mostly joking. I’ve got credit cards—I’m not destitute.”
‘Good. I mean…” Lawrence leaned across the table. “I mean the sex is great, but I’m not interested in paying for the future times.” Lawrence chuckled. “Been there, done that.”
“You have? You paid for it?” Curtis looked askance.
“You forget that I’m older. I did a lot of things in the seventies and eighties I’m not proud of.”
“Things you can show me?” Curtis placed his hand on top of Lawrence’s.
“You’d want to see the kind of dirty things I did?” Lawrence looked him up and down with suspicion.
“Well, I’m up for role-play if you are,” Curtis laughed.
“I had a boyfriend who liked me to be rough trade…” Lawrence trailed off.
Curtis looked up and thought back to a night when Jeffrey told him to meet him outside of a dive bar on Santa Monica. Told him how to dress and how to
stand. The city is a large place, Curtis. It’s not the same guy.
They each ordered one more drink and talked about everything from investments and the state of the world to the Promenade and the housing market in Belmont Park.
“So, if you’re happy living there,” Curtis said, “don’t let that bitch win.”
“I am. I’d say Mrs. Biddle sticks her nose in places it doesn’t belong, but for the most part, I’m really happy with the neighborhood.”
“I’ve been thinking of investing in a home. The loft life is nice, but when I get older, I’d like to not be bothered by the drunk people causing commotions on the Promenade.”
“Is that a dig at me?” Lawrence dramatically placed his hand on his chest, making a show of pushing his drink away.
“No, but it was nice last night, just falling asleep because it was the time, not because we were too drunk or too exhausted to do anything else.” Curtis slipped his foot up Lawrence’s leg.
“It was. I love having your head in my arms.”
“I did too, and everything about last night has really made me think.” Curtis pushed his drink aside. “I think I’m done with that. Are you ready to head to the Villa?”
“I am. Let me pay—you’ll wait for me outside?” Lawrence said.
“I’ll pick up the next lunch,” Curtis said before he went to stand outside to wait.
Lawrence walked out shortly after. “The next lunch, huh?”
“Sure! I mean, we need to go to at least two more museums.” Curtis stepped close to Lawrence as they walked. “Not to mention those days in between museums. I mean, I’m out of work, you’re retired. I can think of lots of ways to do more than just lunch.” Curtis pulled Lawrence close to him, wrapping his arm around his waist.
Lawrence chuckled and moved them a little faster along the bridge. “I just realized we drove past the Getty. I want you to see something.” He looked at his watch. “So, can we get a hitch in our get-along?”
Curtis stopped. “Hitch in our get-along? That’s priceless. I love you, Law.” I said the love word; did he hear it?
Lawrence took a deep breath, pushing forward. “It’s just something my dad used to say. It means, ‘let’s move faster.’”
Curtis laughed and caught up. “I figured out what it meant.”
They headed up the long driveway to the Villa. Out of the car, they marveled at the surrounding sights, the marble statues and columns. “Have you ever been here before?” Lawrence asked.
“No. Honestly, I’ve been an art noob.” Curtis looked around at everything.
“The art here is amazing. It’s a small collection, but beautiful. And if the collection doesn’t get you…” Lawrence grabbed Curtis by the shoulders, turned him around, and pulled him close to his chest. “This view will devastate you.” He motioned with his arm in front of them, a lá Vanna White.
Curtis followed Lawrence’s hand. It truly was breathtaking. The fog clung to the ground. Above the trees, the sun rose a little higher and the ocean slowly came into view. “Whoa… it reminds me of…” He chuckled and shook his head, looking at his feet.
Lawrence squeezed his shoulders. “Reminds you of what?”
“Marjorie used to watch this artist on PBS. Art with… Bob Ross.”
“No, it was The Joy of Painting. I remember that show.” Lawrence laughed. “I wouldn’t think of Bob Ross from looking at that ocean view.”
“For me it was like looking at a white canvas, and then all of a sudden, you realize there’s an ocean just beyond.” Curtis looked over his shoulder. “I can hear him say ‘make happy little clouds.’”
Lawrence let go, and he chuckled. “My sister and I used to joke that those paintings were probably where he buried the bodies.”
Curtis laughed. “Either way, you were right. The view is amazing.”
12
Lawrence
“Rick?” Curtis shouted across the parking lot.
The tall well-muscled man turned and waved. “Curtis, it’s been such a long time.”
Curtis turned to Lawrence. “He’s a buddy from my college days.” He pulled Lawrence along with him. “What brings you out here?”
“Me.” Dennis popped up from the back of the car. “I owed him lunch, so I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone and bring him along and see if the cultural stuff will stick.” He laughed.
“I’m not dumb just because I’m a contractor, asshole. I know how to read a blueprint—I bet most people wouldn’t understand that.” Rick locked the door and turned around.
“Rick Hardin, this is Lawrence Barnsdale.” Curtis pulled Lawrence in front of him.
Both men extended hands and shook.
“It’s good to see you could make it, Lawrence,” Dennis said.
“Rick Hardin? Of Rick Hardin Construction?” Lawrence asked.
Rick beamed. “Yes, the one and only.”
“I’ve seen your ads in Frontier and The Advocate. Not many construction companies are gay-friendly,” Lawrence said.
“I’m a firm believer in getting my name out there. I hire the best gay men and women around. We have a great policy of inclusivity,” Rick said proudly.
“That’s great,” Lawrence said.
Dennis gathered the four of them together. “Should we head up?”
“Lead the way, Doctor,” Curtis said.
“Oh, just call me Dennis. I’m not official yet.”
“I’m so glad you guys could make it,” said the art professor from the Brass Lamp meeting who sat at a table out front, handing a packet to each of them.
“This just has a few instructions on how best to view the various collections. There is a small quiz at the back, but it’s just to see if you found everything,” Dennis explained.
Lawrence laughed. “That’s the last time I drunk-signup for a class. I’m too old for quizzes.”
They all laughed.
Dennis shook his head. “Lawrence, it’s not a pass or fail thing. It’s just to see what you guys explore and find. There are so many interesting spots throughout this place.”
“I’ve never been, and I’ve lived in Southern California forever,” Curtis grinned.
“We don’t have any plans for the rest of the day. The other couples have already made their way in. See you on Wednesday.” The art professor extended her arm.
Rick stood behind Dennis and then poked him in the shoulder. “Hey, is that an old flame?” He pointed in the direction of Henry, who was waving in their direction.
“No, it’s one of the students from the class.” Dennis excused himself to sit with the art professor.
“Oh shit, I forgot to tell Dennis about Henry McKissick,” Curtis said.
“Is he married to Marilyn, the woman you’re going into business with?” Rick asked.
“Yeah, but Marilyn’s husband, Henry, has the hots for Dennis. I think he was hoping to talk to him about a date, but then he looks a little apprehensive.”
“My Dennis?” Rick asked.
“He’s not your Dennis. The two of you are so ‘on again, off again’ they named a hurricane after you.” Curtis punched him. “Besides, I thought you were dating that plumber.”
“I was, but he’s been out of town at a family reunion. Wait, Henry’s married to Marilyn, right? Are they breaking up?” Rick asked.
“No, it’s poly. She’s letting him play around, but she’s not looking for anyone just yet. Anyway, I shouldn’t be telling all of this to you.” Curtis patted Lawrence’s arm. “I’ll be right back, hon.”
Rick looked over. “Ooh, you’ve made it to the ‘hon’ stage, that’s good.”
Lawrence laughed.
Curtis walked to the table and came back with Dennis. “Sorry, I need to talk to you.”
“Sure, friend. What’s up?” Dennis followed him.
Lawrence watched as Curtis pointed across the grounds to where Marilyn and Henry were looking at the fountains. Dennis let out a shocked laugh, and Curtis stood there nodding his
head. A few minutes back and forth and Curtis came over to stand between Lawrence and Rick.
“Well, that’s been handled, but I don’t know if anything will happen.” Curtis grabbed Lawrence’s hand. “Lead the way, sir.” Curtis extended his arm as well.
Lawrence chuckled as he walked to the first sculpture. And the next. At one point, they got separated. He ended up in the gift shop and purchased a calendar with the statues of the Villa, then set out to find Curtis.
By the time Lawrence found him, he was seated on the floor, staring up at a large painting framed in the gaudiest gold. Lawrence leaned against the back wall and watched him discover the beauty of art. Sometimes Curtis would get up on his knees and lean close to the painting, and then he’d sit back on his heels and shake his head. Once, Curtis stood so close that Lawrence was afraid he’d touch it. And when he turned, he had tears in his eyes. He looked up, and they stared at each other.
“I’d wondered where you’d gone off to,” Lawrence said.
“Oh, Law… you have to see this.” Curtis reached out and grabbed his hand. He walked to the left of the painting and pointed at a woman’s face. “I call her Claire. I think she got a modeling job, and she got bored and began looking around the studio.”
“What are you talking about?” Lawrence laughed and took in the painting.
“See how everyone else is involved in the scene? Everyone else is watching the procession, but my gal Claire is looking at the photographer, or in this case the artist.” He smiled and walked to the left of the painting. “And the flutist—flautist, flautas? Oh, I’m getting hungry.” He laughed and pulled on Lawrence’s arm. “Look at the fabric of those dresses, togas? Oh, I don’t know what they are called, but everyone looks so delicate, and the fabric hangs just perfectly off their bodies.”
Curtis stepped back and pulled Lawrence to stand beside him. “Just look at all of it. Take it all in. Their faces. Some walkers look bored or like they’re wishing they could lean like those watching. The fabric, the colors, the marble—oh God, the marble is as exquisite as the marble statues along the walkway.”
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