“Oh… Sam,” Ruth hugged him.
“Get it while you can, honey,” Teresa shouted. “Do you feel like a kept woman now, Ruthie?”
Everyone laughed and Sam put his arms around Ruth as she whispered, “That’s thousands of dollars, Sam!”
“Shhhhhh,” Sam pressed his finger to her lips and replaced it with a kiss. “I thought about what you said and you were absolutely right. Besides, it’ll be nice to keep a little pied-à-terre in the city when we don’t want to drive all the way back to Hillsborough. That’s assuming I’m welcome to spend the night.”
“You are more than welcome any time, silly.”
“There’s no excuse not to get that gate fixed now,” Arturo said. “We can afford to have the building painted one of these days, too. It needs it.”
Ruth heard her cell phone ring and pulled it out of her purse. She couldn’t imagine who might be calling her. Almost everyone she knew in San Francisco was right here in this room. She felt a moment of panic, as if it must be bad news. “Ruth, is that you?”
“Yes, it’s me, but I can barely hear you. Who’s this?” Ruth didn’t recognize the voice, but she blamed it on a poor connection. She assumed it must be someone else who remembered her birthday but she couldn’t think of anyone who was missing. “Can you speak up? Otherwise, maybe I could step outside where I can hear you better.” She tried to move but was penned in at the seat of honor.
“You goddamn sleazy, home-wrecking tramp!” It was a woman’s voice, but it couldn’t be anyone Ruth knew. “I’ll bet you didn’t expect to hear back from me, did you?”
“Who on earth is this?”
“Just shut up and listen. I got the message you left on his phone. So he’s calling himself Sam these days, is he? Last time it was Steven. His real name is Stuart.”
Ruth remembered the crash of dishes and the yelling in the kitchen earlier. She’d never actually heard Sam’s voice mail come on, but she’d assumed she was leaving him a message. “If you want my lousy husband, I should let you have the son-of-a-bitch. It would serve you right, but now you know he’s no catch! He’s been cheating on me for years and now he’s two-timing you, too. Hah! Where did he pick you up? At the track? Vegas? I hope you aren’t another one of those cheap hookers he goes for. There’s not enough penicillin in town for the likes of you gals.”
”It was a wrong number!” Ruth grinned and felt an enormous burden being lifted. “I’m terribly sorry. Please try to calm down. It was only a wrong number. I’m sure everything will turn out just fine. Please! Don’t be so upset! It was all a big mistake. I’m sorry! You must believe me!”
Ruth laughed out loud and dropped the phone back into her purse. If she and Sam were going to follow Tim’s advice and have an argument, at least it wouldn’t be about infidelity. She didn’t have to feel pressured now, either. Sam made that clear with a year’s lease on the Collingwood apartment. The only things left to argue about were Adam’s wedding in Chicago and what to do about Adam’s mother Delia and where Ruth fit into the household.
Ruth could twist herself into knots of worry at the drop of a hat, but today was her birthday and this was the first surprise birthday party she could ever remember. Here were nearly all the people that she knew and loved in the world. Why worry about a thing?
“Who was that?” Sam asked.
“A wrong number. Let’s go into the other room and drink champagne and open my presents.”
“But you said you were sorry. Why were you apologizing, if it was just a wrong number?”
“The poor woman was so distraught I felt sorry for her… her dog ran away... again.”
Chapter 11
While Ruth was still opening birthday presents, Tim headed for the men’s room at the Indian restaurant. He stood at the urinal and his head began to spin. Maybe he’d had too much wine with lunch. Had he stood up from the table too fast? He hoped he wasn’t getting sick, but he felt so dizzy he had to place both hands on the porcelain to brace himself. He finished, zipped up and washed his hands, splashed cold water on his face and looked in the mirror. He thought he looked okay but the second he turned away from the mirror he caught a glimpse of his mother’s face, as if she was standing right behind him. He turned all the way around—twice—and the vision was gone, but now he was even dizzier.
“What’s up, handsome?” Nick was waiting right outside the door and grabbed him for a quick kiss. “Where’re you going? You okay?”
“Yeah, just a little dizzy, that’s all. What about you? Are you spending the night in the city or what?”
“I have to drive my grandmother back to Alameda when this wraps up, but then I could stop by your place… for a while, anyway. Are you going straight home?”
“Yeah, I’m going home.” Tim thought he might go straight home to bed.
“Did those workmen do a good job on the tree? I can’t wait to see how it looks with your downtown view exposed. Did they clean up their mess?” Nick licked his lips and nuzzled Tim’s neck and earlobe. “Don’t you want me to stop by, Snowman?”
“Sure… I guess it would be okay,” Tim yawned to feign disinterest, but Nick had already turned to rejoin the party. Tim realized that it had never occurred to Nick not to stop by Tim’s place afterward. Nick was always so damned sure of himself it was intimidating, but that was part of what made him so perfect; he was Tim’s opposite in that way and in so many others. Tim hadn’t been sure that Nick would be able to come down for the party at all, much less bring his grandmother along, but he knew his Aunt Ruth was thrilled to see them both.
Tim tried to think how many days it had been since he and Nick last had sex. How many days had it been since the dream about Buena Vista Park and that guy Bruno—Rosa Rivera’s assistant? How long had it been since Tim complained to himself about Nick being around so much? Now all it took was a quick kiss and a grin and some grab-ass in the hallway of a straight restaurant in the Tenderloin and Tim couldn’t imagine ever wanting to be with anyone else.
The dizzy spell had passed now. Tim took a deep breath, rounded the corner and found Nick standing in the doorway. They both watched Aunt Ruth open some silly little gag gifts and Tim teased, “I’m not working tonight, so... can you stay over or not? If you can, I’ll run home and air out the bedroom, get rid of last night’s trick towels, change the sheets… you know.”
“You do that,” Nick smiled and slapped Tim on the ass again.
The first thing Tim did when he got home was take another long hot shower. With Nick coming by, Tim could think of little else but getting naked with him. He was angry at himself for his mood swings and thankful that Nick never seemed to notice. Nick was almost always in the mood or at least in a cheerful mood. Tim envied him that.
Tim turned off the shower knobs, dried himself off, pulled a bath towel around his waist and stepped into the kitchen. There was nothing much for dinner later, but he could call out for delivery or microwave something. The kitchen floor was a mess of linoleum chips with bits of the old hardwood floor showing through. Why had he thought he could do this project himself? It was a huge job! Tim tried to sweep the worst of the mess into the corner before Nick arrived. He looked out the window where the old redwood tree had been. Nick was right. The downtown panorama was spectacular, although the afternoon fog was coming in with a vengeance. Nick had better hurry up if he wanted to see the view.
Tim thought he heard someone whistling “happy birthday to you…” When he reached his bedroom he was startled to see Nick, bare-chested, perched on the side of the bed unlacing his shoes. “Hey! When did you sneak in?”
“I rang the bell, but you didn’t answer, so I used my key. I figured you must be in the shower. Come here!” Nick was all hands.
“I though you wanted to look at the view.”
“I like this view just fine.” Nick pulled Tim down onto the bed with him.
“But the fog is coming in and it’ll be gone soon.” Tim dropped the towel and let Nick roll on top of him, pin
ning him down with his body and working the muscle of his tongue between Tim’s lips and teeth. Tim reached down to unbuckle Nick’s belt and when he could breathe again, he panted a moment before he spoke. “Get undressed… and I mean it… come and look at the view before all that’s left is the top of the pyramid building.”
“Oh, okay!”
Tim tugged at the cuffs of Nick’s pants until they slid all the way off and Nick headed toward the kitchen in his socks and jockey shorts. “Hey, what’s this?” Tim asked, but Nick was already gone. A piece of fabric stuck out of Nick’s pants’ pocket, a splash of faded pink and pale yellow. Tim gave it a tug and held a woman’s handkerchief in his hand. It was so sheer he could almost see through it and now Tim was dizzy again, much worse than before. Tim was awake, but he was suddenly far, far away…
Tim Snow was a little boy again. This vision was as clear as any of his psychic dreams. His family was on a picnic… a sticky-hot summer afternoon… tall trees everywhere… maybe outside of the city. No, it was Minnehaha Falls. His Aunt Ruth and Uncle Dan were unpacking their car and his cousin Dianne was whining about the heat. Uncle Dan and Tim’s dad each opened a beer and Aunt Ruth hoisted something heavy out of the trunk… a big thermos jug with a spigot on the side.
“Are you ready for some nice cold lemonade, sweetheart?” She was already quenching people’s thirsts back then.
He could hear her voice now. “Are you ready for another round of Margaritas, boys?” But that was a question she would ask at Arts. Time was jumbled and Tim’s thoughts were a spinning kaleidoscope that stopped spinning again and landed at this summertime picnic in Minnesota, years ago.
“The boys can have their beer. I made lemonade for the rest of us.” Aunt Ruth meant that the lemonade was for the women and kids, but Tim’s mother had her own thermos. Was it because it was her birthday that no one questioned her having her own special lemonade? Tim’s grandmother wasn’t there. Now he remembered. This was the summer after she died. Tim’s mother and Aunt Ruth were still too sad to talk about it. Tim had tried to tell his mother about how vivid his dreams had become since his grandmother’s death, but she didn’t want to hear it. He couldn’t remember if he tried to talk to his dad about anything. Doubtful.
Tim had emptied his piggy bank to buy a handkerchief for her birthday. It was white with red and yellow flowers. He spent the day of her birthday, the day of the picnic, waiting for just the right time to give it to her. A summer storm cut short their plans and he forgot about the handkerchief until they were on the way home. Hailstones bounced off the windshield. Tornado sirens wailed their warnings from the south. When they got inside the house Tim climbed out of his wet clothes and remembered the gift he had for his mother’s birthday. He carried it into the living room, but she was already passed out on the couch, so he left it on the embroidered pillow where it would catch her drool.
Tim held this handkerchief from Nick’s pocket up to his nose. He didn’t recognize the smell. He knew his Aunt Ruth’s scent and he thought he’d know Nick’s grandmother’s. He heard his Aunt Ruth’s voice again. “If people notice your scent when you walk into the room, it’s too strong. It should be so subtle that they only notice something missing when you leave.”
“It’ll be beautiful at night when all the lights come on downtown,” Nick yelled from the kitchen. “Hey, what happened? Whatcha doin’? I thought you were right behind me. Come in here!”
Tim, still naked, grasped the door frame and took a few faltering steps, still holding the handkerchief. “Where did this come from?”
“Oh… that? I found it on the edge of your driveway just now. I thought it must be Jane’s from downstairs, so I picked it up. You’ll see her before I do.”
“This isn’t Jane’s. Look how worn it is. It looks like it’s been put through the wash a thousand times; the colors are faded and the edges are tattered.”
“Well, it’s a little too flowery for any of the guys on my work crew, don’t ya think? Do you think your Aunt Ruth dropped it?” Nick wasn’t paying attention to the handkerchief. He pointed out the window again. “This is great with the tree out of there! What did I tell you? Now all you need is the new deck off the kitchen so we can sit outside and enjoy the view.”
“Yeah, you were right again,” Tim stared out at the thickening fog, but his mind was many miles and years away.
Nick walked his fingertips across Tim’s shoulders, then flattened his hand and let it slide down Tim’s back, pulling him closer. “Come on. Let’s go to bed.”
There was no better lover than Nick, as far as Tim was concerned, but he still had cravings sometimes. Nick always talked like he’d be satisfied to settle down and make it just the two of them once and for all, but Tim feel trapped at that kind of talk. Tim might even be happy with Nick’s fantasy of monogamy, if only he’d stop talking about it! The “BIG IT” involved marriage, whether it was legal in California or not, and a lifelong commitment, moving in together; it was all just too scary!
Tim told his Aunt Ruth to talk out her feelings with Sam. Maybe he should take his own advice. The trouble was; talking was the thing he wanted to avoid. He would just have to try. They sat at the kitchen table now, an hour or so later, still naked after their lovemaking, and watched the dark sky. The fog had long since obliterated Tim’s new view of downtown San Francisco from the northern windows. They ate leftover pasta Tim had reheated with garlic bread and a salad with a cheap bottle of red wine from Trader Joe’s. “I meant to tell you…” they both said at the same time.
“You owe me a beer!” Tim said.
“What?”
“We always used to say that when two people said the same thing together at the same time; ‘You owe me a beer,’ but the one who says it first wins.”
“Oh…” Nick looked slightly dazed.
“Sorry… maybe it was a Minnesota thing.”
“No, I know what you mean. I’ve heard that before; I just forgot about it.”
“Whatever… you go first. What did you want to tell me?”
“Oh… you’ll never guess who I saw when we left the party.”
“Martha Stewart!” Tim took a wild guess and laughed as he stretched out his leg under the table, slid his toe up Nick’s bare leg and rested his foot in his crotch.”
“Oooof! Careful!” Nick readjusted his position and tore off another hunk of garlic bread. “No, but you’re on the right track. Rosa Rivera.”
“No kidding! I’m surprised Artie didn’t invite her to Aunt Ruth’s party. Where did you see her?”
“In the Tenderloin. My grandmother asked me to drive up and down some of those streets until we found a certain little corner store. It had to have a green awning. She’s working on a new mystery and she needed to find it and figure out which direction the one-way streets ran on either side.”
“Huh?” Now Tim looked lost.
“She’s always been like that. She gets obsessed with details. Anyway, we ended up driving by Glide Memorial and there was Rosa. She was standing out in front with Reverend Cecil Williams and a camera crew. It must be one of the locations for her wedding season shows she’s been advertising.”
“She has?”
“You’re the one who told me about them.”
“Well, I knew she was doing them, but I didn’t know she was advertising them already. I’ve never seen her show.”
“It’s on tonight. We could watch it later. But what was it you meant to tell me earlier?”
“Oh that…” Tim let his voice trail off. He didn’t really want to talk about all that.
“What?” Nick reached down to grab onto Tim’s bare foot, still resting between his legs under the table. By working his thumbs along the sole, he knew just where to drive Tim crazy. “Ve have vays to make you talk…” Nick tried to conjure up a German accent like on one of those late-night re-runs of Hogan’s Heroes on TV-land.
“The other day after you left to go back up north, I was…”
“I’m l
istening.”
“Let’s go back to bed. I’ll tell you in there, okay?”
“Now you’re talking!” Nick let go of Tim’s foot and stacked their dinner dishes to soak in the sink for the time being.
Once they were both in bed, Tim closed his eyes and tried to remember. “I was so horny that morning! I was having these amazing dreams and I thought you were right here beside me like this, but when I woke up and reached for you I remembered you’d already left for work. I was still half-asleep, I guess, and I kept thinking I only had seven minutes, for some reason.”
“Seven minutes for what?” Nick repositioned himself so they were facing each other in bed. He picked up Tim’s other foot and started the same deep-tissue massage.
“Aaaaaw, that feels so good!”
“Don’t change the subject or I’ll stop. What did you mean about seven minutes?”
“I don’t know. It was just that I had a lot of things I wanted to do that day, like get to work on the kitchen floor, but you know how sometimes when a person has sex on the brain it seems like you can’t get anything else accomplished until you take care of it?”
“I know,” Nick shook out his hands for a second before he went back to work on Tim’s feet. “I have my five-fingered friends here and when one wears out, thank God I’m ambidextrous enough to use the other one. So what did you do, Snowman? I’m still not sure what you meant about those seven minutes.”
“I just thought I’d allow myself seven minutes, that’s all. I thought about… you know… popping in a video… or even just taking a cold shower, but instead I fell back to sleep and I had this dream that was so real!”
“Yeah?” Nick knew all about how Tim’s dreams could mean something out of the ordinary. He didn’t fully understand how they worked, but he loved Tim enough to simply accept the fact. “What happened in your dream?”
“I drove up to Buena Vista Park and there was this one guy with these crazy red socks in black leather sandals and another guy who smelled like he’d bathed in sweet cologne and there was Rosa Rivera’s assistant, that guy Bruno…”
Wedding Season Page 8