Wedding Season

by Mark Abramson

  “The lady is looking for the owner of this building… Mr. Snow?”

  “You won’t find him here… nobody here today but the workmen. He’s redoing the whole place, Mr. Snow is. He’s got big plans for it, but we haven’t seen him around here in quite a while.”

  “Thanks anyway,” Nick closed the window and glanced back toward his passenger. “Ready to go to the airport now?”

  “What about that restaurant? Maybe he’s working. There might be someone there who knows where he is.”

  “What restaurant is that?”

  “It’s called Arts on Castro Street.”

  “Very well.” Nick turned up Noe to 19th Street and took a right on Castro. Arturo was in his car, holding the parking space directly in front of Arts and there was a police car in front of him. They both pulled out to make room for the limousine. Ruth really had thought of everything. There were only a couple of actual customers at the bar. Nick recognized seeing them at Ruth’s surprise birthday party. Scott was chatting with them near the waiters’ station.

  Artie was in a get-up Nick had never seen: yellow pants and a matching blouse, low-heeled shoes and a gray wig. He wore only a touch of powder, rouge and lipstick, a downright subtle look that must have taken amazing self-control. “Hello and welcome to Arts. We’re not serving dinner yet, but the bar is open for cocktails…”

  Tim’s mother stiffened at bar and cocktails so soon out of rehab and stared at Artie, as if she could find a clue to Tim’s whereabouts by analyzing this dowdy creature. “I’m not here for dinner. I’m looking for my son, Tim Snow.”

  “My Lord! You’re Mrs. Snow? What a wonderful surprise! Come in. Come in and make yourself at home. How about a cocktail?”

  “No, I couldn’t.”

  “Suit yourself then, but come over here and sit down. I’d like you to meet my dear friend Amanda.” Nick saw his grandmother at one of the large round tables, sipping an amber drink from a stemmed glass. “Terry, Chris… come and meet Mrs. Snow.”

  The two guys from the bar brought their drinks with them to the table. Now Nick remembered. They were the female to male transsexuals who ate at Arts often. Nick and his grandmother smiled and pretended not to know each other. When Ruth said she was calling on all her friends, she meant all of them.

  “We’re delighted to have you grace us with your presence,” Artie continued. “Please sit down and let’s get acquainted. I have been your… son’s… employer and landlady for several years now, until he inherited that house on Hancock Street and your sister Ruth moved into the old apartment.”

  “I know,” Mrs. Snow’s voice sounded tired and faint. “I was just there looking for him… both places, but there was no sign of him…”

  “No, of course there wouldn’t be. He’s remodeling that place of his on Hancock. What a wonderful thing, isn’t it? He’s helped so many people already, and now it will be modernized a bit. You’ve raised a very generous child, Mrs. Snow, always thinking of others in need… such a good Christian. You must be so proud.”

  Betty Snow tried to smile as she fondled her Bible and a small square purse she held in her lap. Artie looked toward the door as Nick opened it for the next arrival. “Oh, look who’s here… Marcia! Come and meet Mrs. Snow.”

  Ruth’s neighbor who used to be a boy named Malcolm, the only genuine transsexual that Nick knew personally, swept into the room. “Mrs. Snow? You’re not the Mrs. Snow… what an honor! I can’t tell you how grateful I will always be…” Nick was starting to grasp the full extent of Tim’s aunt’s invention now and he loved her it. He half expected to see Rosa Rivera come out of the kitchen, but it was probably too soon for her to reappear at Arts after the wedding debacle.

  “Grateful? For what?”

  “So many people, receiving a surprising inheritance, wouldn’t have thought to turn right around and practically give it away. I’m so grateful for everything!

  “Where is my son?” Mrs. Snow’s voice grew stronger now. Her eyes widened as she ogled the liquids in each of their cocktail glasses.

  “How long has it been since you’ve seen your child, Mrs. Snow?” Marcia asked.

  “It’s been since he was in high school. I don’t remember… over ten years. Maybe closer to fifteen.”

  “He must have changed a great deal in all that time, don’t you think?” Marcia smiled ever-so-sweetly. “Are you sure you want to see him? Maybe it would be better to leave the past in the past. That’s what I did.”

  “Of course I want to see him! He’s my son, my only child. Where is he?”

  “In the hospital,” Artie declared.

  “Which hospital? Is he sick? I’ll have that driver take me there right away.”

  “He’s not sick,” Marcia started to laugh. “Besides, the hospital isn’t here in San Francisco. He’s down at UCLA. They have some of the best doctors. I had my own surgery done there.”

  “Surgery? What surgery? My son is having surgery?”

  “Isn’t it wonderful?” Artie went on. “From what we’ve heard, he spent so much time in the hospital as a little boy that he’s almost looking forward to this hospital stay, especially when you consider the eventual glorious outcome.”

  Nick’s grandmother, Amanda Musgrove, said, “Mine was so long ago I had to go to Copenhagen, the same place Christine Jorgensen had hers done. Nowadays, people can stay right here in the States. Look, here come some more of the folks from Hancock Street. We have a little support group that meets once a week in the afternoons. With all the construction going on, we’re using the restaurant this time.”

  “Your Tammy did such a marvelous thing,” Marcia said, “providing so many people a place to live and to help each other out while going through all the preparations…”

  “Tammy?”

  “Look who else is here now,” Artie shouted. “Mrs. Snow, I’d like you to meet Teresa. She used to be Terrence. Come on in, Teresa. Come over here and meet Mrs. Snow. This is Tammy’s mother. Isn’t she a dear?”

  “You look kind of familiar,” Betty Snow gave Teresa a suspicious glare.

  “Do I? Well, I’ve been around.” Teresa was curious to have another look at the homeless woman she’d found in the laundry room several weeks ago.

  “We were just telling Mrs. Snow how she’ll have a new daughter soon,” Artie said. “Now that Ruth is practically married and moving out, Tammy can move back into Tim’s old apartment and everything will work out just fine.”

  “My sister is married?”

  “She will be any day now.” Artie couldn’t help but rub it in. “Didn’t you know? What a shame…”

  Tim’s mother was turning white from holding her breath.

  “Are you alright, Mrs. Snow?” Marcia asked. “How about a glass of water?”

  “Scott,” Artie shouted. “Would you bring Mrs. Snow a glass of water.” He gave a little smile. “Unless you’d like something stronger. Scotch? Gin? We have a full bar.”

  “No… I can’t…”

  Mrs. Snow looked up toward the young man who carried her water glass and then she saw a tall black man behind him. Artie said, “And this is your sister’s hairdresser, Rene.”

  “Hello.” A frosty Mrs. Snow made no move to shake his hand.

  Rene sat down next to Amanda. “How do you do, ma’am.”

  “But you’re not a—”

  “No ma’am,” Rene laughed. “I may be just as nellie as pink ink, but I ain’t about to mess with no operations when it comes to the family jewels. I just come by and help the girls with their hair and give them some make-up tips, you know.”

  “And here comes Burt,” Artie announced. “Burt’s a pre-op. We used to know her as Birdie, but he’s still a cop. The female-to-male ones use the top floor on Hancock and the male-to-females are on the bottom. It’s so sensible… not having to deal with all those stairs when you’re learning to walk in heels.”

  “But the Bible says…” Mrs. Snow started in, holding her Bible in her fist.

 
; “Not a word about high heels,” Teresa was actually wearing a dress and so much make-up that she didn’t look like a real woman. “I go to Bible study on Tuesday nights. I know the good book backward and forward.”

  The front door opened again and Gladys Bumps arrived. “Hello, everyone. Sorry I’m late. Is the bar open? Good!” Nobody but Artie recognized her at first. They’d never seen her in any kind of drag that wasn’t outrageous, but today she was dressed down—way down, like a little old lady Sunday school teacher.

  “Hiya, Gladys. Get a beer from Scott and come join us,” Artie yelled across the room and then spoke to Mrs. Snow in confidence. “We’re trying to get her to drink something more ladylike than beer, but at least she uses a glass now, instead of swilling them straight from the bottle.”

  Betty Snow eyed the beer and started to tremble. She clutched the Bible to her bosom and her whole body shook. “My son must repent! You must all repent this wickedness and be saved! Homosexuality is a sin! The Bible says so!”

  “Did you used to work for the DMV?” Marcia asked.

  “Yes, it’s a sin, I’ll grant you that, Mrs. Snow,” Birdie—Burt—Fuller piped up. “The Bible says homosexuality’s an abomination, alright. But don’t you see? That’s the beauty of it. Tammy won’t be homosexual anymore. She’ll be a woman and a heterosexual woman at that. Once I get my operation, Teresa and I will be just like any other regular old straight couple, just as righteous as you and Mr. Snow. ’Course, the Bible says their men back then had several wives, but one like Teresa’s about all I can handle!”

  Birdie let out a laugh as Teresa beamed at her and then pointed at Mrs. Snow’s Bible. “It also says in there that you can sell your children into slavery and that people live to be hundreds of years old and Noah rounded up two of every animal on earth in a wooden boat.”

  “They’re replicating Noah’s ark in Kentucky now,” Amanda Musgrove said. “It’s as long as two football fields and they’re gathering up a heterosexual pair of every animal on earth. There are millions of kinds of insects, you know, and the fundamentalists don’t believe in evolution.”

  Gladys set down her beer glass. “So that means Noah must have rounded up a pair of every kind of bug in the world. I wish he would have let the mosquitoes die out. And why would he want to save the termites… on a wooden boat?”

  Everyone laughed except Tim’s mother. Amanda shook her head. “You’d think people had never heard of allegory.”

  Betty Snow turned toward Amanda and eyed the amber liquid in her glass. Teresa leaned forward and spoke under her breath, “I’m not sure what the Bible says about a mother who poisons her own poor little boy and burns his feet and then takes him to the hospital so she can shack up with the doctor… and all behind her husband’s back.”

  Betty Snow cringed as if Teresa must be talking about someone else.

  “It’s amazing how well Tammy turned out,” Artie said, “considering what a fucked-up childhood he had… pardon my French.”

  “Where is that driver?” Mrs. Snow whispered. She would have screamed, but she couldn’t catch her breath. “Help me! Driver? I have to get to the airport.”

  Nick rushed to the table, pulled out her chair and offered his uniformed arm.

  “Goodbye, Mrs. Snow!” Artie called after her.

  “It was wonderful meeting you,” Marcia said. “We’ll tell Tammy you came looking for her. She could send you pictures of the way she looks now! Does she have your address?”

  Teresa walked to the limousine with Nick and Tim’s mother, who grew frailer by the minute. “What a shame you’re going to miss Ruth’s wedding and you have to rush off before the butterfly emerges from her chrysalis. Well, you have a safe flight back to Minneapolis, y’hear? And keep in touch!”

  Nick drove the rest of the way to the airport in silence. They were just in time to check in Betty Snow and her new suitcase at the curb. Nick ripped off his tie, his jacket and chauffer’s cap and rolled up his sleeves before he got back inside the limousine. It was hot at the airport, but a cool bank of fog was pouring in over the city. It welcomed him back like a blanket of peace. Betty Snow would never see San Francisco again and best of all, no one in San Francisco would ever see her again, either.

  Chapter 26

  “We did it, Ruthie, we did it! Everyone was marvelous. You should have seen us. Everyone played their parts and did exactly like you said.” Artie was so excited to finally reach Ruth on the phone that he barely let her get a word in.”

  “I knew you could pull it off, Artie…” Ruth was grateful to her friends for following through with her plan and still she felt guilty at the same time. Betty Snow was her only sister and she hated to lie, but after all she’d done to Tim, she deserved it. Gender reassignment surgery was no big deal in San Francisco in 2011, but Ruth knew it would be shocking to someone like Betty and if that’s what it took to get his mother out of Tim’s life, it was worth the deception. Still… Ruth never liked to deceive anybody… or give up on them.

  “Especially Nick’s grandmother,” Artie was still carrying on. “I mean really… Amanda Musgrove is already intimidating enough as a woman, but the thought of her having once been a man! It was too perfect! She kept her voice real deep the way she does, you know, and that darling Nick was such a handsome chauffeur with his hair slicked back and he looked so elegant in his uniform. Between him and Amanda and me, I was sure one of us would laugh, but nobody let on. We all stayed in character.”

  “Artie, that’s just great.” The most important thing to Ruth was that Betty got through it all without a drink. Maybe her stay at the Redwood Valley Ranch had been worthwhile. Maybe, just maybe—Ruth always hoped for a miracle—the day might come when she would be sorry for all she’d done and Tim could forgive his mother and they’d all be reunited as one big happy family… someday… in Ruth’s dreams.

  “Birdie was in her uniform and Teresa was so done up she looked like a drag queen,” Artie giggled. “Marcia helped her out with her hair and make-up earlier at home, of course.” Artie was delighted to relive every detail he could remember for Ruth’s sake. As far as he was concerned, the whole afternoon had been great fun.

  “Ruth, dear…” Sam’s voice in the background was loud enough that Artie could hear him too. “Are you going to be tied up on the phone long?”

  “I’m talking to Artie in San Francisco.”

  “Hello, Artie!” Sam called out. “I just noticed the time. Alexandra’s parents want to take us to dinner. I’ll go knock on Tim’s room and see if he’s ready.”

  “I’ve got to go, Artie. We’ll talk soon.” Ruth was stepping into her shoes. “Give everyone back in San Francisco all my love and thanks and tell them we’ll be back in a couple of weeks. Call my cell if you need to reach me for any reason at all… b-bye.”

  Tim was across the hall finishing up a call with Nick. “The wedding was beautiful, if you like that sort of thing.”

  “How was the reception?”

  “Grand. Alexandra’s father must be as rich as Sam. She didn’t marry Adam for his money, I guess. Oh, I almost forgot… I danced with her. She’s really sweet. I asked Adam to dance, but he wouldn’t… not as cool a guy as I thought he was.”

  “Aw, Snowman… it was his wedding reception. And it’s Chicago, not San Francisco. Besides, I’m sure there were tons of straight guys there who would have flipped!”

  “Still, it would have been fun if he had.”

  “You just come home and I’ll dance with you anytime, babe.”

  “Sam’s knocking. I gotta go to dinner. Love you. Bye.”

  By Monday, Tim was more than ready to leave his Aunt Ruth and Sam and Chicago behind and fly home alone. He missed Nick more than he wanted to admit and he missed San Francisco too. The late afternoon sun was glaring, but Tim wouldn’t pull down the shade. He wanted to see if the Golden Gate Bridge looked any different from a first class seat. But the fog was pouring in and covered the roadway of the bridge, leaving the tall oran
ge towers jutting out like a dreamscape. Tim stared out the window and decided that if San Francisco didn’t exist, someone would have to invent it.

  On the cab ride in from the airport, the temperature dropped as the thick summer fog enveloped them. Tim thought he was coming home to an empty house, but two trucks were in his driveway on Hancock Street. One was Nick’s, but he didn’t recognize the larger one. Tim could hear stranger’s voices, struggling on the new back deck. He was frightened at first until he heard Nick’s voice yell down, “Snowman! Come up the back way. I have a couple of surprises for you.” Tim could only see the corner of something that looked like an enormous sculpture. Nick said to someone, “Thank you, guys. That’s the perfect spot.”

  Tim waited for two burly movers to descend the back stairs before he could climb up them. “What’s going on?”

  “Welcome back, babe.” Nick kissed him and gave him a bear hug. That was all that really mattered to Tim right now. “I’m so glad you’re home. Did you miss me?”

  “Of course I missed you. What surprises?”

  Nick stepped back out of the way, “Ta-da!”

  “What the…?”

  “It’s a bench. I had it carved from your old redwood tree. There was one big healthy section about eight feet long in the middle. Do you like it?”

  “It’s amazing!” Tim sat down and rubbed the palm of his hand against the smooth grain of the armrest. Its seat was curved and wide enough to lie down. “It’s not a bench; it’s a sculpture. It’s beautiful.”

  “I got the idea a long time ago,” Nick said. “I was on my way to bid on a landscaping job in Napa County and I noticed this place along the road, so I stopped and looked around at the guy’s work. He’s quite an artist with a chain saw. His wife does most of the finishing. They were really nice people.”