Ruth said, “I once knew someone in Minneapolis who changed his name, but I think it had to do with the fact that he owed a lot of money to a bunch of people.”
“Well, Leonardo doesn’t have to worry about that. They’re both making good money at their jobs. No, these days ‘Dick’ becomes ‘Richard’ and ‘Al’ is suddenly ‘Alexander.’ You never find a ‘Bob’ or a ‘Chuck’ or a ‘Pat,’ in the Castro any more. They want you to call them Robert and Charles and Patrick.”
“Or Roberta and Charlotte and Patricia,” Tim laughed.
Teresa slapped his knee, “I’m surprised you don’t insist on being called ‘Timothy’ yourself.”
“I don’t care what you call me. Just don’t call me late for… How does that old saying go? …last call?”
Ruth said, “I think it’s ‘supper,’ dear… ‘don’t call me late for supper.’”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Tim said. “I was thinking there was a sexual reference in there somewhere, but you’re right. It’s ‘supper.’ So… how was the wedding, anyway?”
“Well honey, thank heaven the ceremony was short and sweet, but the reception was something else! I think I was the only woman in the entire Lone Star Saloon. And there were some big boys there, too. Some of them made the two grooms look almost malnourished. Lenny’s… I mean… Leonardo’s father was there too and he’s gotten to that wobbly stage in the brain, you know, God love him. I had hardly seen him since my own wedding and that was right out of high school. He somehow got it in his head that the reason I was there was for his son and me to renew our vows.”
“Oh, the poor old fellow,” Ruth said.
“He was so confused, and it didn’t help that everyone kept buying him drinks. Oh, he’s a sweetheart, and so are Teddy and Lenny. I mean …Leonardo! I wish the two of them all the happiness in the world. Besides, I’m sure he’ll be a lot more exciting in bed with Theodore than he ever was with me!
“Teresa, I think it’s great that you’re such a good sport and remain friendly with your ex-husband, but you deserve better than that,” Tim blurted out.
“Well honey, don’t I know it! We were the best of friends since we were kids and then we were high-school sweethearts, married way too young. We should have just stayed friends!”
Ruth glanced at her watch. “Look at the time. We’ve got to get ready for Jason’s memorial. Thanks for inviting us up, Teresa. I’m sure I’ll see you soon. Are you coming down to Arts for the gathering?”
“Well… I don’t know. I barely knew Jason. Still, I maybe ought to pay my respects for the sake of Arturo and Artie. I’m also curious to see if that rascal Jorge shows up. I’ll bet you anything he’s run off with his little girlfriend again. I’ll probably come down later on after I check my e-mail, have a hot shower and a teensy bit more tequila. Are you sure you two wouldn’t like some more? I could mix up another batch in a jiffy. I’m finally starting to feel human again.”
“No, thanks,” Tim said. “We’d better get going. We’ve both got to shower and change into something in basic black.”
“Oh Tim, I don’t know if I brought any…”
“I’m just kidding. Wear whatever you want. I already told you it’s not going to be heavy.” Tim turned to Teresa in a mock whisper and added, “I’ll never get used to having a woman on the place with the pantyhose drying over the shower rod and having to wait while she spends hours in the bathroom, you know.”
“Don’t listen to him!” Ruth gave her nephew a loving slap with the tips of her fingers across his chin. “I am nothing like that!”
Teresa carried the remains of the pitcher of Margaritas into the kitchen to say good-bye. “I’ll bet Tim takes twice as long in front of the mirror as you do.”
“Now the women are ganging up on me. Come on, let’s get out of here. Seeya’ later, Teresa. Thanks for the drinks.”
Chapter 6
When Tim and Ruth arrived at Arts the restaurant was already filled with flowers for the celebration of Jason’s life. Ruth wandered among the tables admiring the arrangements along the walls, in each window and spilling out from the corners of the room. She said hello to a couple of guys she served during her cameo appearance behind the bar, but most of the customers who had closed the place at 2 a.m. weren’t here this early on Sunday afternoon.
Tim said hi to Artie behind the bar and then headed to the kitchen to check on Arturo who was busy arranging hors d’oeuvres on silver trays. “How’s it going, Arturo?”
“Hi Tim… okay, I guess. Brunch was a little slower than usual, which suited us fine. I’m glad you’re here early, though. Every florist in the neighborhood has made at least two deliveries, starting first thing this morning. Reservations are already coming in for dinner tonight after the gathering for Jason is over. Some of the brunch crowd seems intent on staying here straight through until then. We announced that we’ll host an open bar from four to five in Jason’s honor, so some of these queens want to be sure to have bar stools, since they won’t still be able to stand up by then. Is your Aunt Ruth here?”
“Sure, we walked over together.”
“Good. Artie told me what a lifesaver she was last night. Maybe she can help him out this afternoon, too. We’d really appreciate it.”
“I don’t think she’d mind. She said she had a great time bartending again after so many years. Who knew?”
“I’m sure Artie will be swamped otherwise. We haven’t had time to think about hiring another bartender yet and he’s taking this awfully hard, I think. Artie always had such a crush on Jason, you know.”
“He did?” Tim asked, but Arturo ignored him.
“I could sure use some help from Jorge, but he still hasn’t shown up. He’d better have a damned good excuse or I’m going to wring his neck this time!”
Tim considered mentioning to Arturo what Teresa had said about Jorge’s girlfriend Carlotta in the Mission district, but decided against rubbing salt on the open wound. “Just let me know what I can do to help.”
Arturo wiped his hands on his apron and reached for a potholder to open one of the big oven doors. “Thanks, Tim. I think these mini-quiches are done. They’re just as good at room temperature as they are hot. Then I’ve just got the rumaki, but… nah… I think I can handle it all. Why don’t you see if Artie needs anything behind the bar, okay?”
“Sure, Arturo…no problem.”
Artie was serving customers while Ruth was sitting at one end of the bar. He already had her hard at work cutting lemons and limes. “Is there anything I can do for you, Artie?” Tim asked.
“Come to think of it, there is something…” Artie said. “Take that bulletin board down from the wall by the pay phone and take off all those flyers and the stuff that’s posted there. It will be just the right size. I found a bunch of old pictures of Jason this morning. I left them on top of the desk in the office and there’s a box of pushpins in the left-hand drawer. We found pictures from parties going way back to the 80s, from Castro Street fairs and Halloweens and the Tricycle Race. There are some really sexy ones of him in spandex! Just pick out what you think are the best ones and arrange them somehow on that cork board. We should put it up where everyone can see it, maybe near the front door with a couple of those nice flower arrangements on either side, okay?”
“Sure, Artie,” Tim said. “I can do that.”
When Ruth finished cutting the bar fruit she looked around for Tim and found him sitting at a table near the front door, sorting through stacks of photographs. She watched him place several pictures to one side and put others back into a large manila folder. He turned and gazed out the window to Castro Street for a few moments and then slumped forward with his head in his hands. She wasn’t sure if she should leave him alone, but her instincts told her to reach out to him. “How are you doing, honey?”
“Oh, God. Aunt Ruth, I’m really going to miss him. I don’t know if I can do this or not.” Tim was misty-eyed as she rubbed his neck and shoulders. “I can’t help b
ut think of what there might have been between Jason and me if only the timing had been different.”
“My, how photogenic he was,” Ruth said, unsure whether she should speak at all at a time like this.
“Yeah, he sure was handsome,” Tim said. “Look at him here! He must have been in his early 20’s. That’s him in a Speedo at Baker Beach. Here he is on stage in some leather contest. I’ll bet that’s at the Eagle or the Powerhouse. And just look at this one! This was the Saturday before Halloween last year. That’s him on the far left. All eight of those guys are buddies from Gold’s Gym and they all went dressed as Cher! They were a riot! This one must have been at the Halloween party here at Arts. Look at Jason in all his leather posing with Viv at the piano. She came dressed as Little Bo Peep.”
Ruth reached over to the bar and Artie handed her a stack of cocktail napkins without a word. They all knew this day wasn’t going to be easy, but Ruth was glad to be here for her nephew and for all of the rest of them. Artie’s eyes were puffy and red. Ruth said, “Here, Tim, blow your nose. I could help you with this if you’d like.” She started to arrange the pictures he’d chosen onto the bulletin board. “Why don’t you go and see if Artie needs some ice or anything?”
“I’m okay Ruth, thanks,” Artie said. “It’s Arturo I’m really worried about. He’s taking it awfully hard, I’m afraid. He always had kind of a crush on Jason, you know... Most people did, I imagine.
Tim thought it was interesting that Arturo had said the same thing about Artie. Sometimes it didn’t occur to Tim that you could have strong feelings for someone even though you’d never slept with him.
Ruth decided that a change of subject might be in order for everyone. “Some of these flower arrangements are spectacular! I was wondering why do they all have the names of drinks on them?”
Tim asked, “What do you mean… drinks?”
“Well, this one says Pilsner. That refers to beer, right? And the one in that corner over there said it was from the old White Swallow gang. That sounds like a creamy after-dinner drink. One says The Mix. Well, I know what mix is. And that one says The Edge. That sounds like it must be lethal. Nobody ordered an Edge from me last night, but if they told me what went into it, I’m sure I could have made one.”
Jake had arrived by now and he and Artie started laughing. Artie said, “The White Swallow was a bar on Polk Street years ago. That must have been the first place Jason ever worked. I think he was still underage with a fake ID. I’m surprised any of those old guys are still around to remember him.”
“Those aren’t drinks, Aunt Ruth. They’re all names of bars where Jason either worked or had friends,” Tim said.
“He worked here at Arts the longest,” Artie said, “but the others will miss him too, I’m sure. He had friends all over town.”
Jake walked across the room. ”These flowers are from Moby Dick. That’s the bar on 18th and Hartford. These are from Grenier, the liquor distributors. And the arrangement over here in this corner is from the Hole in the Wall Saloon down South of Market. Who would think to put black ribbons in with cactus and yellow roses? They must have found the one and only butch florist in San Francisco!”
People began arriving in groups of twos and fours and more. Ruth hurried to get all of the photographs of Jason on the corkboard and Tim helped her set it up on a table near the entrance. “He certainly was handsome! He could have been a model,” Ruth said. “I wish I could have had the chance to know him.”
“He did some modeling too, didn’t he?” Tim asked in Artie’s direction. “Artie must have those magazines locked up somewhere.”
“He wasn’t exactly modeling fashions, you know…” Artie said with a smile.
Patrick arrived, then the front door opened again and Artie yelled, “Here come the bridegrooms! Congratulations! Lenny and Teddy! It’s not time for the open bar, yet, but let me buy you boys a couple of drinks on the house anyway, in honor of your recent nuptials.”
“Two Manhattans, thank you… and it’s Theodore and Leonardo, please!”
Jake turned to Tim and Patrick and said in a loud stage whisper, “Ooh, it’s the artifice formerly known as Teddy. What an honor!”
Artie scowled at Jake and quickly turned back to Theodore, “Please. I mean… of course. And please have a seat. Arturo and I wanted to come to your wedding ceremony, but with so much going on around here, we just couldn’t get away.”
Leonardo took the drinks and handed one to his new husband as they moved toward a table, even though there were two open stools at the bar. “Thank you, Artie. It’s quite understandable. Oh, to think of it… our joyous wedding one day and then poor Jason’s funeral to follow. It’s too, too much! Here’s to us, anyway, and here’s to poor, dear Jason. I remember him from the years when he worked at the Powerhouse on Folsom Street.”
Theodore said, “Oh you knew Jason then, did you? I knew him then, too. Just think… you and I might have met each other way back then!”
“Perhaps we did, darling. Perhaps we did,” Leonardo answered. “Do you want to go dancing when this is over, sweet-heart? Planet Big is happening at the Stud tonight!”
Tim saw Arturo waving to him from the kitchen and gradually worked his way through the crowd to get back there. “Tim, I hate to ask you this, but I’m in a terrible bind. We just got a reservation for Gail Wilson, party of ten for dinner tonight. They used to be such regulars and if she’s with a bunch of her musician friends, I know at least six of them will order the New York steaks. I had such a run on them last night I’m nearly out. They’ll either be musicians or restaurant people from Memphis Minnie’s.”
“Right,” Tim said. “I know that group—big eaters. They haven’t been in for a while. I didn’t even know she was back in town. What do you need, Arturo?”
“Take my car and make a Costco run, will you? How’s it going out front?”
“It’s starting to get crowded already. I’ll be glad to get out of here for a while. I can’t stand it, everyone standing around talking and laughing. Jason was murdered and his killer hasn’t been caught! How can people just forget about that and act like nothing happened, Arturo?”
“They’re not forgetting Jason. They’re here to remember him. You’re too young to have been around during the worst of the AIDS years, Tim. Every week there were dozens of people who died and they’d post their pictures in the B.A.R. Between Artie and me we sometimes knew every single one of those young men.”
“I’ve known some,” Tim said with a catch in his voice as if he was trying to defend himself against an accusation. “I knew that guy they called Beatty that used to come in for lunch every Saturday in his wheelchair. He had AIDS. I even went to his service at Most Holy Redeemer. At least it was in a church. I was trying to tell my Aunt Ruth that gay people handled death better than most, but when it’s someone you were really close to…”
“It’s not a competition, Tim. I know this is hard for you. We all do. Artie and I even talked about giving you some time off if you want it.”
“I’m supposed to be in the middle of my vacation right now so I can spend time with my Aunt Ruth during her visit, remember? It seems like she’s working here more than I ever did.”
“We meant after that, but if you’d rather be working this week we can arrange that too. Whatever you want, Tim.
“Thanks, Arturo.”
‘You bet… but you know, Tim, if there’s one thing we learned during the worst of those AIDS years, it’s that life goes on. You don’t do Jason any good by being sad. You have to wake up every morning and put on the coffee and put your feet in your shoes and grab hold of yourself. You’re not going to forget about Jason, but you don’t do his memory any justice by curling up into a ball.”
“I know… I know… what do you need besides meat at Costco, Arturo?”
“Could you pick up two flats of strawberries and a couple of dozen limes for Artie? My car is still across the street where Jorge left it. I imagine I’ve got parking ticket
s on it from all day Saturday, but I just haven’t had time to deal with it. Thanks, Tim. You’re a saint!”
Tim took Arturo’s car keys and started off to run the errand. He was glad to have something to do to get him away from the restaurant for a little while, anyway. It was already getting crowded and the open bar was still a long ways off. It had been long enough since he and Jason were together that most people didn’t treat Tim like the grieving widow, but a part of him still felt that way.
A large elderly woman stood outside the swinging doors of the restaurant kitchen. Tim pulled one side back and said, “Excuse me.” Twice. She moved a couple of inches to one side and let Tim pass, but not without brushing up against her. The woman must have bathed in cologne. Getting one whiff of her was like having a mouthful of cheap shampoo. Why can’t people be content just to look their best without having to share their favorite fragrance with an unwitting world? Tim coughed and sputtered. If he couldn’t be sad, at least he could have the satisfaction of being irritable!
On his way out, Tim noticed that Artie had already enlisted Ruth to help him tend bar again. Tim was proud of her and glad that she was willing to pitch in, although it didn’t surprise him.
Tim wasn’t used to driving Arturo’s car. First he had to adjust the rear-view mirror so that he could see the traffic behind him on Castro Street. A #24 Divisadero bus had him blocked in for the moment. Tim found the lever to move the seat up so that he could reach the pedals better. Jorge was shorter than Tim, so it seemed strange that the seat was back this far.
Costco was relatively calm for a Sunday afternoon and Tim was able to get in and out in about thirty minutes. He tossed everything from his cart into the back seat of Arturo’s old Buick. On Market Street, mid-way between Noe and Castro he noticed a funny “whap-whap-whap” sound so he slowed down and pulled over to the curb. He opened the door and looked back. Sure enough, the left rear tire was nearly flat.
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