“Teresa?” Gavin Newsom repeated. “Miss Shaw?” Teresa looked down at Birdie with the brim of her cap sticking out from under her arm on the other side and Birdie’s sweet face smiling up at her. What else could she say but, “Sure, what the heck? You bet I do, Birdie. I mean… yes, sir, Mister Newsom. I do!”
“By the powers vested in me…”
Tim made a half-hearted attempt to revive Rosa Rivera by splashing cold water in her face, but he aimed most of it at her wig, trying to get the curl out. Her eyes fluttered open and she started shouting again, “Mazzo maledetto di faggots inutili!” Tim could hear Artie on the microphone belting out Fly me to the Moon. It should have been loud enough to drown out Rosa’s swearing, but Tim dumped another pitcher of water in her face, just to be on the safe side. When she staggered to her feet, swinging, Tim and Arturo wrestled her out the back door and locked her outside with the dumpster. That would fix her for a while, anyway.
Bruno told the technicians to insert another commercial while he had a few words with the Lt. Gov. When the live camera came back on, Newsom announced, “Ladies and Gentlemen, it seems that Ms. Rivera is indisposed at the moment, but we’d all like to congratulate Birdie and Teresa on the start of their new life together and I guess, since I have a few moments to fill…”
He looked at Bruno, who nodded and make the okay sign with his thumb and forefinger. “As all of you know, today’s commitment ceremony is not legally recognized by the state of California or by our Federal government, but it is my fervent hope that one day soon it will be.” Everyone burst into applause again, which led to a standing ovation. “I guess we only have a few seconds left on the air, but what the heck… As long as we’re here, why don’t I just marry all of you? You won’t be on the television show and you’ll still need to go down to City Hall to fill out paperwork for domestic partnerships, but if you’d like to line up over here two at a time… what’s that?”
Bruno stepped up to the stage again and whispered something in his ear. “Wonderful! The photographer from Rosa’s show, Let’s Make it Happen, will take pictures of each couple as you say your vows and maybe they’ll be included in the souvenir book about San Francisco weddings, too.”
Tim helped Arturo get the trays of food onto the buffet table behind the piano. Then they wheeled the enormous six-tiered wedding cake into view. Teresa and Birdie got to cut it for photographs, since they were the actual winners, then everyone had some. The first thing Teresa did was take the tiny plastic grooms off the top of the cake. “Couldn’t you have found some little plastic brides, Artie?” Teresa complained. She was already getting into the spirit of being a dyke.
“Teresa, Birdie… Arturo and I had nothing to do with the cake,” Artie said. “That was Rosa’s doing. Complain to her.”
Arturo had gathered Scott, James, Tim and Jake together to open the back door very slowly. They figured Rosa would have had time to either cool down or she’d be even worse, but it turned out she was nowhere in sight. Tim went to join Nick at the bar and saw that Ben and the kids had arrived from Hancock Street.
Now they all heard a loud commotion at the front door. Rosa must have found her way down the driveway to Hartford and walked all the way around the block. Her dress was dirty; she’d broken a heel and she was still fuming. Bruno got to the door at the same time she did and he held her back by pointing to the cameras. “Do you want to be on camera looking like a drowned rat?”
“I’ll get even with all of you!” She yelled and scowled and shook her fists while she ducked inside the white van, which eventually made its way through the busy Saturday traffic on Castro Street and back to the studio.
Artie got behind the bar long enough to help Scott pop open several bottles of champagne and pour glasses for everyone. Gavin Newsom joined them and made a toast to all the happy couples in the house while Artie took the stage again.
“On behalf of Arturo and myself and the entire staff of Arts, I’d like to thank Lieutenant Governor Newsom and all the television crew and… well, I guess Rosa’s not here, so… thanks to Bruno and his staff and all the contestants, especially Teresa and Birdie. Now, maestro, I feel a song coming on.”
“On a wonderful day like today,
I defy any cloud to appear in the sky…
Sam cornered Tim at the bar and told him that he and Ruth wanted him to come along as their guest to Chicago next weekend for Adam’s wedding to Alexandra. “Sam, are you sure you want me along? I won’t know anyone and I’ll be the only gay person.”
“You’ll know us, not to mention the bride and groom. No excuses. You sound just like your Aunt Ruth. I know she’d feel more comfortable if you were there too. And I’m sure they’ve invited some of their gay friends. We’ll all be family soon, Adam and Alexandra, Ruth and you and me. How about Nick? Can he come too? It’ll be my treat… everything.”
“I’ll ask him.” Tim turned back toward the stage to hear Artie singing.
“Let me say furthermore, I’d adore everybody
To come and dine—the pleasure’s mine—
And SAM will play the bill!”
Sam laughed, waved to Artie with a “thumbs-up” gesture, kissed Ruth and raised his champagne glass high in the air. “And we’ll have another wedding when we all get back from Chicago!”
Birdie and Teresa were sharing a slice of wedding cake at the window table. Nick and Tim faced each other on bar stools and held hands with their knees locked together. Nearly all of the couples were pleased with the way things turned out. Even though they may not be on television, they got to say their vows with the former mayor of San Francisco presiding. Leah Garchik was over by the buffet table, notepad in hand, asking Lieutenant Governor Newsom whether he missed being mayor, especially on a day like this. She would have plenty of observations for her Chronicle column from this event. Even Rosa Rivera, back at the studio, was relieved that her Wedding Season series was finally finished, at least the television part. There was still the coffee table book to edit and she was appeased that she could at least include photographs of all those handsome men in their tuxedos.
Tim was even excited about taking a little trip with his Aunt Ruth and Sam. He wished Nick could come with them, but Nick said he couldn’t get away next weekend. He told Tim he had to work, but what he had to do was more important than anything at the nursery. He was one of the first people Ruth had called on the phone the other night. She counted on Nick to be a key player in her big plan, once she and Sam got Tim safely out of town.
And Nick and Tim would make up for being apart next weekend by having another honeymoon tonight, just like they did whenever they were together.
Chapter 25
Tim had never flown first class before, but Sam insisted, and he was paying the bills. Aunt Ruth was seated behind Tim and Sam was on the aisle. The aisle seat next to Tim was empty except for a pretzel bag and a couple of magazines. He didn’t realize he’d dozed off until the pilot’s voice announced that they were over the Rocky Mountains. They would adjust their flight pattern to the north in order to avoid a big thunderstorm over Nebraska, but should still land in Chicago close to their scheduled arrival time.
Tim knew it was silly, but he felt a pang of dread about the possibility of flying over Minnesota. Then he remembered that his mother wasn’t there right now. She was still in California, many miles behind them. Then he tried again to put thoughts of his mother out of his mind.
The last time he’d been to Chicago was with Jason, more than a year before his murder. Jason had dragged Tim along to the International Mister Leather contest over Memorial Day weekend. Tim’s credit card got a good workout at Mr S Leather in San Francisco beforehand. That was also at Jason’s insistence. Tim spent most of that weekend alone in their hotel room while Jason was off somewhere else doing whatever else with whomever else. It wasn’t that Tim didn’t have a few offers. It was just that he was so in love at the time that Jason was the only man he wanted. And he still had all that leather at home
, collecting dust in the closet.
The cute blond flight attendant looked down at Tim. “Can I get you another drink?” His voice was warm and seductive and Tim’s Gaydar worked just fine, even at thirty-five thousand feet.
“Maybe just a glass of water and another pillow?” He’d forgotten to take his HIV meds and he was thirsty for some water. Tim felt foolish not to take advantage of the free drinks in first class, but he didn’t want to be drunkenly slurring his words by the time they landed. He gazed at fleecy white clouds over rolling hills that were starting to turn into squares of Midwestern farmland. Those checkerboard miles would be dotted with farmers in bib overalls on John Deere tractors this time of year. And their horny teenage sons. Tim remembered being that age, watching them with envy from car windows while his life remained stuck in the city.
Now he was headed for Chicago. Tim tried to remember the name of the serial killer who’d struck there… the one who shot Versace. He’d passed through San Francisco and Minneapolis first, then Chicago and finally Miami, where his killing spree ended in suicide. Tim wanted to say Jeffrey Dahmer, but that was the cannibal, the one in Milwaukee. Wisconsin was smack dab in between, wasn’t it?
“Penny for your thoughts!” Aunt Ruth picked up the magazines and slipped into the empty seat beside him.
“My thoughts, huh? I was thinking about that gay serial killer. What was his name?”
“What would make you think of a serial killer on such a pretty day?”
“I don’t know. What was his name?”
“John Wayne Gacy? Albert DeSalvo? That was the Boston Strangler…”
“No, the gay one… Versace’s killer.”
“Canon… Cumin… Arthur something?”
“Andrew,” Tim said. “Andrew Cunanan.”
“I still don’t know what on earth would remind you of him, but at least you weren’t thinking about your mother.”
Tim straightened up in his seat and turned to face her as best he could with the seatbelt fastened. “Aunt Ruth, I can go for days, months… even years... without thinking about my mother and I really like it that way. And then someone like you, for instance, insists on mentioning her and I have to be reminded. Why do you…?”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Ruth touched his hand. “I didn’t mean to—”
“I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to snap at you… I was thinking of her just a minute ago, so it’s not your fault. Oh… I’m still half asleep.”
“No one could ask you to forgive her for what she did to you, whether she was drunk or sober. I didn’t know anything about her coming to San Francisco, either. I hope you know that. I just hoped that shedding some light on those things you blocked from your childhood, you might be able to better understand—”
“Aunt Ruth.” Tim gave her a pleading look and threw up his hands.
“Sorry, I’ll stop, but there’s just one more thing I have to tell you. By the time you get back to San Francisco, your mother will be far away from there and I’m pretty sure she’ll never try to bother you again.”
“Good.”
The flight attendant returned. “Here’s your water. Something for you, ma’am?”
“Nothing at the moment, thanks.” Ruth strummed her fingers across her nephew’s armrest, fondled her engagement ring and turned the diamonds toward the light from Tim’s window. “Isn’t that beautiful, honey?”
“Yes, it’s so nice that you and Sam get to have a legal wedding, while we remain second-class citizens with the help of so-called Christians like Maggie Gallagher and the tea-party Republicans take over the country and the chicken-shit Democrats claim to be on our side, but don’t do anything about it while the teenaged gay kids keep hearing how worthless they are until they kill themselves and—”
“Tim.” She put her fingertips to his lips. “You know I agree with you 100%. And so does Sam. And so does nearly everyone we know. Someday we’ll all have the same rights, but until then we just have to keep fighting for them. Maybe Sam and I will wait to get married. He won’t mind living in sin with me until everyone has the same rights. There’s no reason we can’t just enjoy a very long engagement, is there? Let’s do the best we can with the times we live in. And let’s all try to have some fun in Chicago.”
“At another legal, heterosexual wedding.”
“Oh, I know… I know…”
While Tim was flying eastward, Nick was driving north to the Redwood Valley Ranch. He’d been having dreams lately too and he wasn’t one bit psychic. In Nick’s dreams, Tim’s mother was holding up her Bible, a thick black book with gold letters and trim. She thrust the cross on its cover into Nick’s face like she was fending off a vampire. “Is the Lord preparing a special place for you in heaven?”
Nick could still hear that voice as the dream replayed in his head. He wanted to scream back at her, “And is Satan preparing eternal damnation for you? I know what you did. I know everything, you hateful witch!”
“What are you talking about?”
“I know what you did to your son when he was an innocent little boy who looked to his mother for love and nurturing, but you turned his life into a living hell.”
“How can you know anything, you heathen?”
“I know how you abused him, make him sick, hurt him, burned him, tortured him…”
“This is none of your business. Who do you think you are? Where is he? Where is my son?”
“You don’t deserve to know anything about him. All you need to know is that you’ll never see him again. And you’ll never be able to hurt him again, not as long as I have anything to say about it.”
Nick imagined her cringe, as if he’d slapped her with his words, as if he could return a fraction of the pain she’d caused Tim. But then the sickening glow crept back to her face and her eyes were flames as she sat up straight, defying him. “Where is Ruth? Where is my sister?”
“She doesn’t want to see you either!”
Nick shuddered and tried to shake off the images from his dream. It was warm when he left the San Francisco this morning, but it was sweltering hot the farther he drove inland from the coast. The uniform—stiff black slacks, starched white shirt and black tie were scratchy and miserable. Nick braked the limousine and waited for a truck to cross the narrow intersection ahead. He had to get a hold of himself before he dealt with Tim’s mother for real. If he could tell her off, he might feel better, but he’d made a promise to Ruth and had to trust that her plan was better than his instincts.
Nick pulled into the parking lot of the Redwood Valley Ranch as another car vacated a spot near the main doors. Nick took a deep breath and fixed his tie in the mirror. He stepped out of the air conditioning and into the miserable heat to put on the tailored wool jacket and visored cap. She had better be ready. He didn’t want to stick around here in this get-up any longer than necessary. If she complained that it was too cold in the car, he could turn down the A/C, but he hoped she didn’t complain about anything or it would be hard to hold his tongue.
Nick was glad he didn’t see the receptionist, Miss Austin, or anyone else who might recognize him. He wore dark sunglasses, but he was still nervous about pulling off this plot. The Redwood Valley Ranch seemed accustomed to the comings and goings of chauffeured limousines. Considering the cost of the treatment, the clients could afford them. A young man Nick had never seen before led him across the grounds to the cabin and knocked. “Your driver is here for you, Mrs. Snow.”
“Driver? I was expecting my sister to come.”
“She sent me instead,” Nick held out the old suitcase with the broken latch that had been sitting in Ruth’s living room on Collingwood Street all this time. That was Ruth’s idea, too. It still had her name tag on it and he offered it as proof to Mrs. Snow that Ruth had sent him.
“I don’t need that. She bought me a new one. Where is my sister?”
“She said to tell you she’ll check on you after you get settled in at home.”
“Oh. I see. I’m r
eady to go now.” Nick carried her luggage out to the parking lot and ushered her into the back seat. She didn’t seem nearly as dangerous as in his dream. She appeared almost timid, broken like a once-wild horse.
She slept most of the way, so Nick calmed down. He took off his hat and loosened his tie and collar, watched the countryside glide by and almost forgot about his passenger until they crossed the Golden Gate Bridge. He jumped at the sound of her voice. “Where are we going? Where are you taking me?”
“To the airport,” Nick answered dryly, professionally. “Those were my instructions.”
The motels of Lombard Street flew past the windows. Nick had left the driver’s window partway open after he paid the bridge toll. He loved the cool eucalyptus-scented fog streaming through the Presidio trees.
“But my sister… my son…”
“Your sister is out of town.”
“But I might have left something at her apartment.”
“I’m sure whatever you left behind would be in the old suitcase in the trunk.”
“No, I’ve got to go there anyway.”
Nick made a show of straightening his left arm and pulling back the sleeve to reveal his watch. “We have plenty of time to stop there. Do you have a key?”
Nick knew she didn’t have a key even before she didn’t answer him. He drove to Collingwood anyway and pressed all the buzzers at the front gate. There was no response from any of them and Nick wondered if Ruth had planned that too. “I’m sure your sister will ship you anything you left behind, Mrs. Snow,” Nick said as she reassembled herself in the back.
Nick maneuvered the limousine up the narrow lane of Collingwood like a boat through a maze and managed a left turn onto 20th Street. When he reached Tim’s house, the timing was perfect. One truck in the driveway belonged to the men who were finishing the upstairs deck. The bricklayers had pulled in behind the first truck to unload their supplies. Nick pulled in behind them and lowered the window as Ben came out the front door and approached the car. “May I help you?”
Wedding Season Page 20