Nick reached for Tim’s bare foot under the table and lifted it into his lap. “I don’t think I know anyone named Fred, Snowman.” Nick massaged the sole of Tim’s foot and squeezed each toe until he moaned. “I don’t think I want to.”
“Tell me about New Orleans, Nick. What was it like?”
“Fine, for a visit… hot and steamy like it is here at the river in the summertime, but even more humid. And instead of the smell of the redwoods you can just smell booze and the river smells and Creole cooking everywhere.”
“What did you do there? Besides the funeral, I mean.”
“After my parents and my grandmother went home to Alameda, I stayed on a few days with some old friends. They live in the quarter on Dauphine. It was nice to see them, but you can only stumble down Bourbon Street drunk so many times before you feel like your soul is slipping away. And the music and the tourists and all the street vendors hawking their stuff. It’s just so loud.”
“Your soul? It sounds so alive and… I don’t know, stimulating. I’ll bet I’d love it there. I’ve never been.”
“I’m sure it’s different for people who live there and have jobs to go to. It’d be like any other touristy spot, like working in a restaurant at Fisherman’s Wharf, I suppose.”
“Or on Castro Street?” Tim asked.
“Sort of… maybe… I don’t know, Snowman. You’d know better than me. Even Castro Street seems a little more real than the French Quarter. New Orleans has a longer history with even more ghosts.”
“Take me there sometime, Nick. Would you? Will you?”
“Sure, Snowman, but don’t expect to feel stimulated. It’s more like the opposite. Sedated, maybe. They don’t call it ‘The Big Easy’ for nothing. Hey, did you get enough to eat?”
“Yeah, the salmon was great. And I ate too much bread. I’m stuffed.”
“Good, me too. Now I’m tired. Let’s go back to bed.”
This time they just slept, curled together in a sweaty jumble of arms and legs and flesh against flesh.
They slept in late on Sunday morning, too. When Tim came to he sat up quietly so as not to disturb Nick, whose long blonde hair was spread across the pillow. Tim listened to the soft, deep breathing and was careful to disentangle himself. Tim headed for the bathroom first and then to the kitchen. He meant to put on the coffee, since he knew Nick would want a cup when he woke up, but he couldn’t find any in the cupboard. Tim poured himself a glass of juice instead, put another log on top of last night’s embers in the wood-burning stove, and sat down on the couch.
Tim was so relieved that things were back to normal he could almost imagine living here. He fantasized about renting out the upper flat on Hancock Street and moving to Monte Rio. With the rent from both units he would hardly need to work. He could pick up some seasonal shifts waiting tables at a resort or help Nick part-time in the nursery business. That would mean moving out of San Francisco, though. That part was tough.
The one thing Tim couldn’t imagine was going back to the way things were, only seeing each other on weekends or when Nick’s schedule allowed them a few days together. Tim sighed and pulled his feet up under him, tugged an afghan across his bare legs and reached for a magazine.
“Good morning, Snowman. How long have you been up?” Nick stuck his head around the corner.
“Hey, Nick, not long, maybe half an hour. You were so sound asleep I didn’t want to wake you. I was gonna make coffee, but I couldn’t find any.”
“Dammit! I knew there was something else I needed when I stopped at Safeway yesterday. I’ll get dressed and go get some, or would you rather just go out for brunch?”
Tim looked up at Nick standing naked in the doorway, his long hair hanging loose and straight back past his shoulders, the muscles of his arms and chest flexing as he yawned and stretched his hands above his head. Tim thought he had never seen a sexier man. They had spent less than twenty-four hours together in this cabin, and Tim just wanted to stay here forever. He stood up from the couch and crossed the room to put his arms around him. “I’ve got an idea, Nick… you just woke up. I’ll drive to the store for coffee. You stay here and get started on breakfast? What else do we need?”
Nick kissed him and sighed. “Nothing. I bought eggs and bacon and bread and potatoes. Maybe you could see if they have a nice melon.” He grabbed Tim’s ass with both hands. “Like one of these.”
Tim laughed and broke away to pull on his clothes. “Sure… this is California. You can get anything here… any time of year. You’ve got my car penned in, though. I got here first yesterday, remember?”
“Take my truck, then. Do you know how to drive a stick shift?”
“Of course I do,” Tim said, although he wouldn’t have admitted if he didn’t.
“My keys are on the counter. I could make pancakes. How does that sound? Instead of a melon, pick up some fresh berries and a bottle of maple syrup. Do you need money?”
“No, I’ve got it.” Tim pulled on his jacket and reached for the door.
“Wait a minute. Come here.”
Tim, fully clothed, walked back to Nick, still naked, and put his arms around him. “What is it? Did you think of something else we forgot?”
“Just one more kiss before you go.” They kissed passionately between words. “Now… drive carefully, but hurry back… okay?”
Tim climbed behind the wheel of the truck and thought for a minute. This was only Sunday. He wasn’t due back at work until Tuesday. That meant they could spend the rest of today together, and if he could talk Nick into taking Monday off they could head to a beach near Jenner or take a drive up the coast to Timber Cove Inn, or they could drive down the coast to Bodega Bay or they could just stay in bed.
When Tim turned the key in the ignition the radio came on. Nick usually left it on an independent station that kept him informed about the local news and weather, tides at Jenner and a fishing report from Bodega Bay. It also played oldies music. Tim heard a couple of lines about dreaming, and he recognized the song—Emotional Rescue by the Rolling Stones—but Tim didn’t have time to think about that.
The truck picked up speed going down the hill. Tim pressed the brake, but his foot hit the floor with a thud. He tried to pump it, but it wouldn’t catch hold. The people who lived at the bottom of the hill had kids who sometimes played in the road. Nick always watched out for them. Tim started to panic as the truck seemed to leave the ground and fly, and the only thing he could think to do was blast the horn.
Nick finished the orange juice and turned on the radio on the kitchen shelf. It was set to the same station he usually played in the truck. Nick heard Mick Jagger sing “mine, mine, mine,” but the Rolling Stones were drowned out by the blast from the truck’s horn and then the sickening sound of the crash. Nick pulled on his jeans and boots, grabbed his cell phone and ran down the hill to find out what had happened, but he already knew it was going to be horrible.
Chapter 24
Ruth was grateful for her sturdy umbrella on her walk to Arts that morning. According to the local TV weather report these rainstorms were backed up clear across the Pacific to Hawaii with no end in sight. It wasn’t as bad as dealing with the snow back in Minnesota, but it was a far cry from any fantasies she might have had of sunny California. Ruth was careful descending the steep grade of Collingwood and had to walk in the middle of the street to avoid the pond where the sewer grate had flooded over at 19th and Castro.
In spite of the nasty weather it turned out to be a busy brunch. Ruth and Artie were swamped at the bar, and James and Jake had all their tables filled within half an hour after they opened the front door. Just before noon, a couple of young men came in, shook themselves off and found an open stool where one of them sat down. Ruth poured another pot of water into the coffee maker and noticed them out of the corner of her eye. One might be Italian, she thought, and his partner was a redhead who reminded her of a smaller version of her co-worker, Scott. The redhead ordered two Bloody Marys and asked, �
�Are you Ruth?”
“Why yes.” She made their drinks and was sure that she’d never seen either of them before, “but I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.”
The darker man stepped forward with a twenty-dollar bill and held out his hand to shake hers. “I’m Tony and this is Jeff. We’re your new upstairs neighbors. Artie told us to come and introduce ourselves to the lady bartender.”
“Oh, how nice to meet you.” Ruth smiled and shook hands with both of them. “Tony, Jeff… now which of you is the postman?”
“I am,” Jeff the redhead answered.
“And that would make you the MUNI driver, is that right, Tony?”
“Yeah, that’s right. Gee, what else did Artie tell you about us?”
“That’s about it and just… that he liked you both. I’m sorry it’s so busy I don’t have a chance to visit with you better. We should get acquainted soon. I’m sure Teresa will want to have us all up for drinks. Have you met her yet?”
“Artie told us about her,” Tony said. “She sounds like a lot of fun.”
“She’s quite a character, all right.” Ruth smiled. “How soon are you moving in?”
Jeff said, “Next weekend the movers will bring all the big stuff. This is our first apartment together so we have lots of duplicates. Do you need a toaster?”
“No thanks.” Ruth laughed. “I have more ‘stuff’ than I need already. I recently moved here from Minnesota myself. Artie! Look who’s here!”
Artie looked up from the waiters’ station. “Hello, boys! I see you’ve met Ruth. Put their next round on my tab, Ruthie. I don’t want them blowing all their rent in here.”
“Thanks, Artie,” Tony said. “Say, we also heard from some other friends that we should check out the piano player. Where is he?”
“Gosh, I’m not sure,” Ruth said. “Phil is usually here on Sundays, but he must have called in sick again. Artie said something about a sick relative up north, but that was the other night. It’s funny; I’ve been so busy I didn’t even notice he wasn’t here until you mentioned him.”
A table for two opened near the window, and Tony and Jeff took it. Ruth kept an eye on them until they finished their drinks and then sent another pair over with James. When he told them the drinks were on the house they smiled up at Ruth and waved. They were such a cute couple, Ruth thought. She noticed how they touched each other as they ate. They seemed lost in each other’s eyes and appeared to really listen when the other one talked. There was a lot of laughter between them, too. Ruth also thought about Tim and Nick and hoped they were as happy together as these two boys. Then her thoughts turned to Sam. He should be on his way home by now. Ruth glanced in the mirror and touched her hair. She was so glad she’d been able to see Rene before Sam saw her.
Ruth was blissfully unaware of her nephew’s injuries all morning. The rain poured down, and the waterlogged crowds kept piling in from Castro Street for brunch, drinks, and a respite from the weather. Ruth’s new neighbors moved back to the bar after they ate, but she still had little time to visit. Artie had gone to help Arturo with some crisis in the kitchen. The bar stools were full and both waiters kept her busy with orders for their tables. Ruth did her best to keep up, but people would just have to be patient. At least they were indoors where it was warm and dry.
It was nearly one o’clock when the rain let up, and so did the crowds. Ruth looked out and saw a ray of sunshine sparkle on the wet pavement of Castro Street. People walked by with their umbrellas under their arms and the hoods of their raincoats pulled back. Ruth and Artie got caught up behind the bar, and no one was waiting for a table. “Artie, what a morning! This was busier than most nights I’ve worked.”
“Yes, the rain drives them in like rats, sometimes. You never know, though. There’s no predicting what these queens will do. Some days it can work the opposite way if they’re afraid of their hairdos getting wet.”
Ruth touched her new hairdo again and glanced in the mirror. She could hardly wait to see Sam. “I just had mine done yesterday.”
“I noticed. Your hair looks very nice today, dear.”
“Well, thanks, you know Sam is due back in town.”
“Oh, is he? No wonder you have such a sunny disposition, even on a nasty day.”
“Thank you, Artie. Where’s Phil today? Is he still out of town? I noticed we’re listening to recorded music.”
“I know it, and it pisses me off. I usually try to get a substitute, like one of the students from the music school, but I didn’t have time. I was sure he’d be here this morning, but he said it was a family crisis. He’s been taking a lot of time off lately, and I suspect he has other, more lucrative business lined up.”
“Playing the piano?” Ruth asked.
“No, dear, the organ. The portable one, the one he carries with him everywhere… between his legs!”
Ruth was sorry she’d asked.
“We’re lucky to get him to work here at all. He does draw the crowds into Arts, though. Not that we needed them today.”
“I never saw it so busy for brunch, Artie,” Ruth said, “and now look. It’s dead.”
“I know. Excuse me.” Artie stepped away to answer the phone at his end of the bar.
Ruth always swore she didn’t have a psychic bone in her body, and she was just as glad. All that mystical stuff she’d grown up around was far too esoteric for a practical gal from the Midwest. Ruth’s mother Lana took it in stride when they were kids growing up. She always dealt with her mysterious gift as gracefully as she danced, as good-naturedly as she’d raised her two daughters, Ruth and Tim’s mother, Betty. If all that crazy perception had skipped a generation and taken a hold on Tim, Ruth could only wish him well. She didn’t envy him for it. She only hoped he would grow to be as strong as his grandmother was.
“Yes, Nick, she’s right here, “Artie said into the phone, “hold on and I’ll get her.”
Ruth didn’t have an ounce of clairvoyance, but something—maybe it was the look on Artie’s face when he handed her the phone—told her this was very bad news.
Chapter 25
Traffic was light on the Golden Gate Bridge. Ruth thought she’d make good time until she got past Sausalito, and the rain started again. It slashed across the windshield in sheets, and the wipers flapped like toys. She slowed from 70 to 60 to 50 to 45. Ahead, red dots of tail lights and brake lights flickered in and out of sight, and Ruth realized she didn’t know where she was going.
She’d been in such a hurry that the last words she’d said on the phone were, “I’ll be right there, Nick.” Now she remembered that she should have asked for directions. How many hospitals could there be in Sebastopol? Where was Sebastopol?
She hadn’t been thinking; that was the problem. Ruth pulled the car onto the shoulder at the Marin/Sonoma County line. She wasn’t the only one. Other cars were stopped there too, motors running, upturned faces trapped inside while they waited for the deluge to let up. Visibility was zero, but a huge semi-truck loaded with lumber roared past—inches away—and splashed an extra sheet of water across Ruth’s windshield. She found a map of northern California in the glove box and fought back tears. What use will I be to those boys until I get a hold of myself? And I don’t need to cause another accident with my careless driving.
The man behind the hospital desk yawned up at her. She was tense from the news of Tim’s accident and frantic from the drive. Now this stranger yawned in her face, and she wanted to scream and slap him and tell him to wake up. Then Nick came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, “Tim is okay, Ruth. He’s going to be all right. It could have been a lot worse. I’m glad you’re here, though.”
“Nick, what happened?”
“Like I told you on the phone, he crashed my truck on the driveway. It’s pretty steep. Someone must have tampered with the brakes. Tim was going to go to the store, but he ended up wrapped around a tree instead. He broke some ribs, his collarbone, his left leg in two places, and he has a mild concu
ssion.”
“Oh my God! How can you tell me all that and still say Tim is okay?”
“Maybe not now, but in time. He’s going to be all right.”
“Why was Tim driving your truck in the first place? What’s the matter with his car?”
“He got to my house before me, and I had him penned in. It only made sense.”
Ruth stepped away from Nick and had a moment of clarity. “In other words, whoever tampered with the brakes was out to get you, not Tim, am I right?”
Nick nodded.
“And the same person killed your cousin from New Orleans.”
Nick shuddered. “Now that you put it that way, I suppose it’s true. That was probably meant for me too, Ruth. I’m sorry. Let’s sit down.”
Ruth remembered the morning this past summer when she and Tim waited in a hospital for news of Jason. That seemed like a lifetime ago. She had been the calm, consoling one that day, and she preferred being in that role. As much as she wanted to lash out at someone right now, this wasn’t Nick’s fault. Ruth did sit down, and when she finally spoke again she said, “Nick. I think we should have a talk with your grandmother. She’s a very astute old woman, and she ought to be told about what’s going on. For your own safety, you might want to spend some time with your family.”
“My grandmother? I just spent time with her in New Orleans. Well, I guess I could go and visit my family again. It might be safer for Tim and me if I were away from here, but I’m not leaving him until he wakes up.”
Nick wanted to take Ruth’s advice, but he knew he wouldn’t. Jenny and Kent had done their best to keep on top of the business while he was away. Now the holiday orders were coming in, plus they still had the year-round contracts to maintain and all the work in the greenhouses. There was no way Nick could get away now, and he wouldn’t leave Tim’s side for any longer than he had to. “I’ll have to think about it,” he told Ruth.
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