May 2015
It was surely not the first time this obstetric recovery room contained two mothers, and probably not the first time it also contained two fathers. Vicky and Sharon both said that Dmitri might have provided the DNA, but Patrick’s contribution was just as important. So they were all there together when Nina Simone Russo was born. “How did you decide which last name to use?” Patrick asked, when it was his turn to hold the new arrival.
Sharon hadn’t changed her name when she and Vicky got married. She made a low-energy movement, not quite a shrug. “If Weiss was pronounced the German way that would be one thing. Simka Vice has a ring to it.”
Vicky, sitting by the bed and holding her wife’s hand, glanced up at Dmitri. “That’s the everyday name, by the way. Nina for my grandma, Simone for Sharon’s, Simka for real life. But yeah, we went with my last name.”
“It’s euphonious,” Patrick said, crooning the word to the baby. “Say it, Dmitri.”
“Rrrrrrrrusso.” Both women laughed. Then he said “Simka Russo” very soft and low, with his fingers brushing the baby’s head, and everyone choked up a little.
Patrick transferred the baby to his husband again, and stood there with his hand on Dmitri’s back. “Are you taking her home today?”
“Mmm.” Sharon stifled a yawn. “Tomorrow.”
“You have everything you need?” He directed that at Vicky.
“We’re good, Patrick, thanks. Granny Miriam’s going to stay with us at the apartment for a couple of days and make sure we do things right. Once Sharon’s up on her feet we’ll have you guys over for dinner.” Vicky gazed lovingly at her wife. “No wine for you.”
“God damn it, really?”
“Not till we know how the whole pumping schedule works out.”
“Ugh.” Sharon gave Patrick a look. “They warned me about this in the prenatal classes, but I swear, the prospect of a big glass of wine is what got me through the last hour of labor.” She stifled another yawn.
“You got through it great.” He bent to kiss her forehead. “We’ll leave you for now. Keep in touch.”
“You bet.”
Dmitri carefully transferred Simka to Sharon’s arms. Vicky walked them out. “So you know what we said before still goes,” she said when they were a little way down the hall. “We want you in her life. As much as you want to be. We won’t chase you around with her or anything. This was our choice and it’s our responsibility. But we would really love for her to grow up knowing you’re both part of the family.”
“Thank you,” Patrick said after another choked-up moment. He cleared his throat and added, “We haven’t been around babies that much. I’m pretty good with my brother’s kids, and Dmitri has a niece back in Odessa. But we can be taught.”
“I think you already know everything we need you to know.” She hugged him, then Dmitri. “Thank you.” She went back down the hall to join Sharon. Patrick put his arm around Dmitri and steered him toward the elevators.
“How wild was that?” he said when they were at home, sitting on the patio with cocktails. “Did men get the best part of that deal, or what?”
Dmitri inhaled some vodka and soda, coughed, and shot Patrick a laughing look. “Yes.”
“I mean, my God. I was never in a delivery room before. What a nightmare.” He drank some more vodka, listening to his husband almost-silently crack up. “I am not sorry we were there, but it’s going to take a while before I can stop seeing that.” Dmitri set down his glass, got a hand around the back of Patrick’s neck, and pulled him over for a kiss.
August 2015
Patrick and Dmitri were keeping an eye on the Andy and Victor situation. Back in the spring, a four-episode arc ran on Victor’s TV show featuring Andy as his love interest. After sweeps, Andy was offered a recurring role for the next full season. Right after that, the two of them left town for an extended road-trip vacation. While they were away they bought a place together. Patrick still wasn’t sure how they accomplished this.
Now Andy – a longtime client as well as a friend – was sitting in front of him at the office, talking about what that all meant. “How did you guys work it? If you don’t mind my asking.”
“I don’t mind.” Patrick leaned back in his office chair. Ever since that tango performance in the fall of 2013, he and Dmitri had been wondering how this would develop. They’d read the review, followed the links, and been mutually astonished. But it was clear that Andy was not interested in revisiting his years as a Broadway dancer, so they minded their own business. Dmitri didn’t suggest doing more with the Cabaret, and Patrick didn’t pester Andy about anything else.
Victor lived in Hollywood, Andy lived at the Brewery, and they really hadn’t been out and about much together as a couple, aside from some dancing. Dmitri reported back about lessons, or about giving them recommendations for places they could go. A dinner together here and there was enough to convince Patrick and Dmitri that these two were meant to be. When they heard about the house, they were delighted.
“We didn’t do it like you guys,” Patrick said, meaning a joint purchase. “I bought the house. Dmitri was making a decent living back in two thousand five, but we weren’t living together yet. We registered the partnership after he moved in, and then did our whole estate plan. Doing that twice was a giant pain in the ass. Are you going to register? Or are you going to get married?” Patrick thought he could be forgiven for asking. After all, he had several legitimate reasons for wanting to know the answer. Starting with ‘we care about you,’ but this wasn’t the time to say that.
Andy made an ‘eek’ face and hesitated. “We haven’t talked about it yet. Either of those things.”
“Yet.”
Andy sighed. “Look, if we were two guys who worked at, you know, Starbucks? If we were the same age? I’d ask him today. To marry me. But we have all this stuff going on, and there is a lot of money in the mix, and I’m ten years older than he is. It’s non-trivial shit.”
Patrick did a ‘that’s true, but’ thing. “And we had a new house, new cohab, my firm, his high-risk business. Before long we were opening the studio, and that could have gone up in flames in about ten different ways. That’s what happens when people come together as grown-ass adults. Imagine what it’s like for people who’ve been married and divorced, or who have kids to consider.” He studied Andy for a few seconds. “We talked about it after he moved in. First it was about registering the partnership, because that was going to make a difference for a lot of legal things. The house, healthcare, whatever. But while we were talking about that, it was, if it’s ever legal for us to get married, do you want to. Both of us did. There was never any doubt about it. He had an ex back on the East Coast who got married the second it was legal. First in line for a license. There was this huge party where the guy taught.”
“You two didn’t have a huge party.”
“No, because Dmitri was up to his ass in that first title campaign. This is the first year since then that he hasn’t been up to his ass in a campaign, and he’s been up to his ass in the Cabaret instead.” Patrick let the exasperation come out. The summer pro show wasn’t officially a presentation of the Underground Cabaret, but so many of the same people were involved that everyone tended to forget that. “I’m hoping we can get out of town for a week or so at the end of the year, but I doubt there’ll ever be a party. It’s old news now.” That didn’t mean Patrick wouldn’t take a party if he could get one. It was, as always, a matter of finding the time.
“Is it ever old news, though?” Andy leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, eyes on his wristband tattoo, a twin of Victor’s. “I see this every day, a dozen times a day, and I think wow. Don’t you look at your wedding ring and think, holy shit?”
“Oh yeah.” Patrick was smiling. “I seriously recommend it. I understand why you don’t want to rush it, but … don’t wait too long to talk about it. It meant so much to say those things to each other.”
“I know.”
Patrick gave him a break and changed the subject. “Time to wrap this up. But just so you know, Dmitri wants to make another dance for you and Victor, for the Cabaret in October. Give him a call if that’s remotely do-able.”
It turned out it was. They said they really didn’t have time for it, but wanted to do it anyway. First, they decided to brush up their 2013 routine for the September reboot of Mating Dance: Milonga. After that they’d start working with Dmitri on a new number set to ‘Moondance.’ Andy was the Cabaret’s official photographer, so he knew the October theme was Lunatics. Dmitri’s report back on their friend’s suggestions for the choreography made Patrick laugh out loud. “You’re not going to give them a lunatical dance, are you?”
“No. I have said so.” Dmitri was smiling. “Things are easier for them now.”
“In spite of their crazy schedules? Oh, you mean because they don’t have to pretend they’re just friends.” Patrick thought about that for a second. “Is their tango going to be even hotter? Oh, it is. Well how about the other one.”
“Is a blend of tango and foxtrot. Some jazz. But simple. They will have fun.” Dmitri leaned back on the couch, stretched his arms across the top, and rolled his neck. He was in the middle of rehearsals for a new dance concert at Chrome. This one was all Argentine tango; accepting the director’s invitation to join the troupe had been irresistible. Everyone else in the cast was more than a decade younger than he was. He didn’t feel old. It was invigorating. His creative juices were flowing. And I want you, he thought, gazing at his husband. He always did, and now he always had the time and the energy to indulge. He sank his hand into Patrick’s hair and tugged. “Come here to me.”
As always, Patrick did.
September 2015
Patrick had been hearing about the rehearsals for ‘Gaucho’ since spring. The production was being directed by an outsider, a former professional dancer who contributed to the previous year’s Beowulf-based show. The stars of that one were in this one too, but they shared top billing with Dmitri’s students Vince, Kelli, Sam, and Mateo. The supporting troupe included Vicky, Ray, Dmitri himself, the director, and Dmitri’s theater-arts students Mike and Paula. Their trip to Buenos Aires was by no means forgotten, so Patrick was very much looking forward to seeing the show at dress rehearsal. Even having talked to Dmitri about it all along, he was surprised.
He had plenty of time to talk to the cast about it. After the dress rehearsal, at the closing-night party, and a week later when Mike and Paula got married in Rory and Dana’s yard. Dmitri was dancing with the bride, Sam was dancing with the groom, and Patrick found himself sitting next to Mateo. “So how did it feel letting Vince beat you up like that?”
“Oh my God.” Mateo gulped some champagne. “Did the boss tell you about that? How we’re all there to block the sextet numbers and I thought we were going to do a run-through of our duet and then the son of a bitch did that?” Patrick stifled a laugh. “He said it was Mike’s idea, so both of them are on my shit list. It was all about how I had to feel genuinely threatened. I broke up all the couples and most of them were coping, but Vince was going to be the bad guy.”
“He sure was. I never expected to see something like that come out of him.”
“Mmph.” Mateo’s disgruntled sound made Patrick laugh out loud. The sideways eye-roll and the shrug, too. “It was good. I mean, it was horrifying, but Alison was right. If I never actually felt that I doubt I could have put it on stage. It was a good show, right?”
“Very good,” Patrick agreed. “Best tango show I’ve ever seen. A real story, terrific selection of songs, and I thought the choreography was great.”
“Does the boss ever want to be the star again?” Mateo’s face said ‘maybe I shouldn’t have said that.’
Patrick patted his shoulder. “I don’t know. He seems really happy right now. He’s pleased with what you and Elena are doing, happy with Ray and Julia’s progress, getting a kick out of all this Cabaret craziness. You know it’s basically the first time in his life he’s been able to do only and exactly what he wants.”
“I hope he has a hell of a good time.” Mateo was watching Dmitri, who did seem to be having a good time. His expression was always controlled, but once you knew him you could tell. “So I hear Vicky and Sharon are going to be moving in with Andy and Victor when they turn that bomb site into a duplex.”
Patrick stifled a laugh. “That’s the plan. They’re all saying next summer for that.”
“Well, I’m trying not to be bitter, because I really don’t want more space to keep clean, but I’m bitter. Even having a two-bedroom apartment would make such a difference.”
“That’s the problem with working from home.” Patrick was sympathetic. “I never did when I was in a one-bedroom place.”
“So how about you?”
“How about me what?”
“Are you doing what you want?”
Patrick thought this is interesting because very few of the dancers asked him personal questions. They all seemed to consider him part of the family, but mostly as part of Dmitri. Only the ones who worked at the studio, like Mateo, even knew that Patrick was a partner in that business. “Well, yeah. I mean, I started my own business when I was thirty-eight. I like what I do. I have Dmitri. We have Simka and the girls, and all the rest of you. It’s a very full, very rich life.” Mateo didn’t say anything for a minute. Patrick took advantage of the situation to ask a question he would not ordinarily ask. “Are you and Sam going to get married?”
Mateo sighed, drained his glass, and said, “I don’t know. I’ve wanted to forever. But it’s like, if it ain’t broke don’t fix it, you know?”
“Ever talk about it?”
“Uh-uh.” After a few seconds, wistfully, “Is it different?”
You have no idea. “It can be. Look, we’re over here like a pair of wallflowers. Why don’t we dance. I know it’s going to look like you’re dancing with your granddad.”
“Oh, give me a break.” Mateo set his empty glass under his chair. “Sure, come on.”
Later, when they were home, washed up, and in bed, Dmitri said, “What did you talk about with Mateo.”
“All kinds of things. He was having wedding envy. And he wondered if you would want to be the star of one of these shows sometime.”
Dmitri turned his head, surprised. The thought had not occurred to him. “After everything I’ve done, I don’t need that.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear it.” Patrick wriggled closer to wrap his arm over his husband’s chest. “But I want you to have everything you want. So if Alison comes back and says hey, how about it.” He had his head on Dmitri’s shoulder. An arm was folded over his back, a hand tracing lightly down his shoulder.
“I have everything I want,” Dmitri said, and kissed him.
October 2015
Dmitri’s fourth quarter was easy. ‘Gaucho’ was over, Mateo and Elena didn’t need much from him, Tony wasn’t asking for interviews. His colleague Julia and her partner-slash-boyfriend Ray were doing well in Rising Star Latin, with little input from him. He wasn’t even planning to do anything with the Cabaret. Or at least, not as a dancer.
He was, as usual, coaching several theatrical couples as well as numerous ballroom dancers. He was doing choreography for film projects, for TV, and for dance companies. It was every bit as satisfying to hear ‘we saw you perform with the Cabaret’ as to hear ‘we saw your championship show dance.’ Ten years ago, he would never have thought that his interest in dance would expand so far outside the ballroom.
Part of his enjoyment derived from Patrick’s. Dmitri knew all those years of attendance at ballroom competitions were nothing more (or less) than proof of love. His husband would never have set foot in a ballroom after that first time, if not for Dmitri. Dmitri rarely articulated how it felt to know someone was there for him, but Patrick knew. Now, doing all these different things, creating narrative dances, with no rules or requirements beyond ‘what is the best
, most inventive, most entertaining thing we can do’ was fun for Dmitri. It was also much more fun for Patrick.
He went with Dmitri to the Cabaret dress rehearsal, as he often did. Their friend Rory was doing a jazz number that Patrick wanted to see. Some of the other routines were bound to be amazing. This year’s theme was Lunatics, after all. “That was a great choice for them,” he told Dmitri after Andy and Victor danced. “How much time did they have?” It couldn’t have been a lot. Not with a major renovation and the TV show going on.
“Not much,” Dmitri said. “But enough. Victor is motivated.” Patrick snorted. That much was clear. He’d pursued Andy for a solid year after coming out. “He moves well.”
“Yes, he does.” Victor wasn’t a trained dancer. But he liked dancing, especially with Andy. “I suppose this show is going to sell out again.” It never hurt to have a celebrity or two in the cast.
“Already,” said Dmitri. “Is good we could see it today.”
“Are you doing anything for next month’s show?” The last Patrick heard, that was a ‘no,’ but things changed fast around the studio.
Dmitri gave him an amused look. “No. Only coaching and choreography. We can see at dress rehearsal again.”
“And then go somewhere?” Patrick leaned close. Dmitri put an arm around him, kissed the side of his face, and made a sound that said ‘yes.’ Patrick exhaled, closing his eyes for a moment of delight. He loved it when Dmitri did something like that in public, even when ‘public’ meant a closed rehearsal. Ever since the second title, he’d been more open, more demonstrative. And more available. “Where could we go for a week?”
To bed, thought Dmitri, smiling against Patrick’s hair. “Sonoma,” he suggested. There was a hotel they liked. Beautiful countryside, clean air, excellent food, superb wine. Nothing to do but be together. He squeezed Patrick’s shoulders and heard the sound of agreement. My dear love.
Change Partners (The L.A. Stories) Page 16