Wedding Season Read online

  Having an argument with Sam was equally foreign to Ruth, but there’d been tensions this week and it all boiled down to a wedding, what should be a happy occasion, and the problem wasn’t even their wedding. Sam insisted that Ruth come to Chicago for the wedding of his son Adam to Alexandra, a beautiful woman he’d met in his modeling career. Once Sam got something stuck in his head, he could obsess about it until it drove Ruth crazy. As good as she was at changing the subject, Sam was set on this plan and he kept bringing it up.

  Chicago was a long ways off, but there were elaborate wedding plans underway already. Sam insisted that since Frank was escorting Delia to the wedding, it would perfectly natural for Ruth to be there, too. The ceremony was to be held in a big African-American church and Ruth was sure she’d feel out of place with the parents of both the bride and groom there. The reception would be grand, too. Ruth didn’t want to impose. All these thoughts were spinning through her brain as she got dressed for work. If Ruth and Sam were going to argue about Adam and Alexandra’s wedding, she dreaded the day when they started making serious plans about their own!

  Artie had the bar nearly set up for the dinner shift before Ruth got there. He’d been tending bar for nearly as many years as he’d been entertaining in drag. Both of them came naturally to him, but there was more money in tending bar these days and it was more comfortable in boy-clothes. Hell, as co-owner with his husband Arturo, Artie could wear whatever he wanted. He could tell something was bothering Ruth as soon as she arrived at Arts restaurant. “What is it, Ruth? Is Sam having cold feet about getting hitched? Or is it you that’s having second thoughts?”

  “It’s not that so much, Artie,” Ruth started cutting limes for the Saturday dinner shift. There were only a handful of early customers at the front end of the bar and a few at tables. One couple was lingering over dessert and apparently talking business after a late lunch at a window table. Artie stood at the end of the bar near the kitchen sipping a cup of coffee, waiting for it to get busy enough to come behind the bar and help out.

  “Sam and I have hardly talked about our wedding plans. We’ve started to once or twice, but we haven’t even set a date. What’s the hurry?” Ruth knew if it were just her and Sam there wouldn’t be any problems at all. “We want to keep it simple, just a few close friends and immediate family. Tim and Nick, of course, and we want you and Arturo to be there, along with Jane and Ben and the kids, naturally… the neighbors on Collingwood.” Even that list sounded like too many when she named them off out loud.

  “Arturo and I were hoping you and Sam might get married here at the restaurant,” Artie said. “He wants to cater the whole nine yards and have an open bar for your guests. I even talked him into closing for the whole day and we’ll really do it up. Nick could decorate the place with potted trees and flowering plants and do some big arrangements, not to mention your bridal bouquet. We wanted to make it our wedding gift to you both. Arturo will be so disappointed.”

  “My goodness, it sounds like you and Arturo put more thought into our wedding plans than we have.” Ruth hoped to nip this discussion in the bud, but she didn’t want to appear ungrateful. “That’s awfully sweet of everyone, Artie, but like I said, we haven’t even set a date yet and I don’t know when we will. Sam is out of town again. We were thinking of Christmastime at one point, but…”

  “Oh, a Christmas wedding would be perfect! I’d love to decorate the place all in red and white and green!” Artie beamed. “If you don’t want to have the ceremony itself here, you’ve got to at least let us throw a party in your honor.”

  “Oh… Artie! I just don’t know…” Ruth felt herself starting to clam up and hold everything inside, even when it might do her good to talk about it. This just didn’t seem like the time or place. Maybe she could sit down with Tim sometime, or have a nice visit with her upstairs neighbor Teresa one of these days. Ruth missed having more women friends to talk things over. All these gay men in her life were charming, but they were more interested in the latest gossip on Castro Street or South of Market than in having a good heart-to-heart.

  As far as her wedding to Sam was concerned, an elopement or a quiet little ceremony down at City Hall sounded like just the ticket. There were so many people’s feelings to be considered all of a sudden. “Maybe a party afterward would be nice, Artie. I just don’t know when. There’s so much to straighten out, first. We’ll have to wait and see…” Her nephew Tim approached the waiters’ station with an order for two dry martinis. “What do you think, Tim? Artie wants to throw a party here for Sam and me when we get married.”

  “I think that’s a great idea, Aunt Ruth. In fact, I think you’ve almost got to.” Tim started to remember his dream again. “Unless you’re planning to have it at Grace Cathedral or the Castro Theatre, your friends would be crushed if they didn’t get to help you celebrate!”

  “The Castro Theatre?” Ruth laughed. “That’s hardly what we had in mind. We’re thinking small and simple and intimate. After all, it’s a second marriage for both of us. The only thing we’ve decided on is that his grandchildren should be involved. Sarah is the perfect age to be a flower girl and little Samuel Timothy Larson could be an adorable ring bearer, although he’s still awfully small. That’s all the more reason to wait until he grows some more. It all sounds too formal to me, but I’d love to see those two kids dressed up for the photographs at the foot of the staircase at Sam’s house… or maybe in the rose garden. Getting married in the rose garden would mean waiting for just the perfect time of year, but what’s the hurry anyway? Maybe next June, a year from this summer...”

  “I just have one stipulation, if I may…” Tim was serious all of a sudden.

  “What is it?”

  “I know it might sound silly, but I had this really weird dream the other morning just before Nick and I came back to town and… ,” he trailed off.

  “I’m well aware of your dreams, Tim,” Ruth encouraged him to finish his thoughts. She knew how often his dreams held more meaning than Tim could understand. They’d even helped her solve his ex-boyfriend Jason’s murder. Ruth’s mother, Tim’s grandmother, had been known for her dreams, too, although in those days people didn’t like to listen to that kind of talk. “What was your dream about, dear? What did you want to stipulate about my marriage to Sam?”

  “It’s not about your marriage.” Tim clicked the end of his pen with his thumb. “It’s about the ceremony… what I mean is… Aunt Ruth… you don’t intend to invite my mother, do you? I know she’s your only sister, but she was in my dream and it was a disaster.”

  “You were having a dream about my wedding?” Ruth asked. “My, my!”

  “I’m not sure. It was somebody’s wedding. It could have been yours and Sam’s. Nick got worried and shook me and woke me up before it ended. It might not have been yours, I suppose, but my mother was there and she was stinking drunk and she ruined everything.”

  “I’ve hardly thought about your mother lately. Yes, she’s my only sister, so I try to keep in touch. There’s a small part of me that still believes in miracles. I know how poorly your parents treated you, but I try not to give up on people. I wrote her a letter quite a while ago. She doesn’t have e-mail.”

  “What did you write her about?”

  Ruth thought for a moment. “Let me see… I must have mentioned Sam. I may have said that your health was good and that you’d inherited Jason’s house on Hancock Street. Of course I did. That’s why I told her she could write me at your old address from now on, not that she ever sent a letter there before. Anyway, I haven’t ever heard back from her.”

  “Good!” Tim walked away, satisfied with her answer and his tray of drinks, and Jake approached the bar to order a pair of Ramos fizzes for the couple in the window still going over some contracts.

  Ruth separated an egg and dropped the white into the blender. “Oh, Artie… it’s all too much. You know what Tim said to me the other day? He said we should just skip the wedding and go on the honey
moon.”

  Artie laughed. “He would! He and Nick must have had a nice trip down the coast and back. He’s been smiling ever since he came back to work. That boy has had his share of honeymoons over the years and no one has ever managed to slip a ring on his finger.”

  Jake said, “No, the rings they wear are always somewhat lower on the anatomy… and I don’t mean he’s gotten anything pierced, Ruth. Don’t worry; he would have told me or at least asked for my advice about it.”

  Ruth wasn’t sure what Jake meant by ‘somewhat lower,’ so she just smiled and flipped the switch on the blender, cutting off any further conversation for a moment. She no sooner finished Jake’s drink order than a party of eight walked in the door and the phone started ringing. “Artie, I think I need you now. Get the telephone, would you? I’ll greet the newcomers.” Ruth headed toward the front end of the bar and the stools were soon filled with customers. Artie was grinning from ear to ear when he hung up the phone.

  “Who was that, Artie?” Ruth asked. “Good news?”

  “You’ll never guess who’s coming in for dinner tomorrow night! Oh, my God! You’re not working, are you? I need you, Ruth. I’ll have to redo the whole schedule.”

  ”No, you don’t have me down for a double; I think Scott’s working, though.”

  “Well, I need you to work and everyone had better be on their best behavior, that’s all I’ve got to say. I’ll call Scott and tell him to get a haircut by tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Who’s coming in for dinner, Artie?”

  “Rosa Rivera, that’s who!” Artie shouted, but Ruth looked blank. “Don’t you watch television, Ruth? She’s all the rage. She has that show called Let’s Make it Happen on cable access. I can’t believe you don’t know her, Ruth! And I can’t believe she’s coming here to Arts! The publicity will be fabulous! I should call the gay papers, at least. I’ll have to get a fabulous arrangement for behind the bar and fresh flowers on all the tables. Wait ’til I tell Arturo!”

  Tim headed toward the front where more new customers were looking over the menu and Ruth got his attention. “Tim… have you ever heard of this Rosa Riviera person?”

  “Oh sure, she’s a camp. She’s got some kind of TV show, but I’ve only watched bits and pieces. I think it’s on late at night. Last Halloween a bunch of guys on Castro Street went dressed in drag as her.”

  ”Tim says he knows Rosa Riviera, Artie,” Ruth tried to sound encouraging.

  “It’s Rivera, not Riviera and of course he knows her. Everyone does!” Artie was jotting down notes on a piece of paper. Next he relayed the big news to Jake, who’d have to work the brunch shift tomorrow instead of dinner. Tim and James would work the dinner shift with Ruth and Scott behind the bar and Phil at the piano. As liberal as he was, Artie didn’t want Rosa Rivera’s first impression of Arts to be their heavily tattooed and pierced waiter, Jake. “You know… Rosa Rivera is fast outgrowing her cable access show. She’s even had spots on the KRON weekend morning show between Jan Wahl and Henry Tannenbaum.”

  “Wow, that’s hitting the big time!” Jake snorted and Artie glared at him.

  “I don’t watch a lot of television. What does she do, exactly?” Ruth asked.

  “You name it! Cooking, fashion, arts and crafts… remember back when Martha Stewart was in prison? If only Rosa had been around then, she could have stepped right in and filled her shoes. And she does it all with such a cosmopolitan flair. She’s going places, you mark my words! I’ve never seen her in person, but I watch when they repeat her show late at night sometimes when I get home from work.”

  “How exciting, Artie,” Ruth tried to feign some enthusiasm, although she had never heard of this woman.

  “Tim, you’re going to have to wait on her table,” Artie said.

  “I’m not even on the schedule for dinner tomorrow, Artie,” Tim complained. “I’m supposed to work Sunday brunch with Jake, like always.”

  “Sorry, you’ll have to switch. Jake and Patrick can do brunch and you and James can work dinner. I wish we had more ethnic employees to show off besides James. Ruth, you simply must be here to work with Scott behind the bar.”

  “That’s fine with me, Artie. Sam’s going away on business again anyway, so I was already planning to stay in the city this week. I don’t have any other obligations.” She stopped to think as soon as the words were out of her mouth. She’d planned to get her hair done, if Rene could squeeze her in sometime. She also had a ton of laundry to do, and some letters to write. There was nothing she had to do on Sunday evening, though, and she was starting to get curious about this woman that Artie was so enamored with. “Is Rivera a Spanish name?”

  “I think she’s Italian. She has the most darling accent. Well, you’ll meet her tomorrow and we can find out. I’ll take the night off from behind the bar so I can act as host. I don’t know what I should wear! I’ll be a nervous wreck, I’m sure.”

  “You’ll be fine, Artie.”

  “Ruth, can you watch the bar by yourself for a minute? I’ve got to run back to the office and redo the schedule and make a few phone calls. It’s going to cost me a fortune to get the flowers I want on such short notice. Maybe I can reach Nick to help me.”

  “He’s at my place, Artie,” Tim said.

  “Good. Then I’ve got to go see what Arturo has planned for the specials tomorrow night. They’d better be fabulous! Oh, I’ve got a million things to do and I’m sure I won’t sleep a wink tonight. Gawd, I wish she’d given us more notice. I can’t believe Rosa Rivera is going to be here tomorrow in person!”

  Chapter 3

  Tim crept up the stairs on Hancock Street and slipped his key into the lock. He didn’t want to wake Nick, so rather than turning on the tap in the kitchen he grabbed a bottle of water to wash down the pills he’d already laid out. “How was work, Snowman?” Nick yawned. He’d fallen asleep with the television volume turned low, but he was awake now. The light from the screen played across Nick’s bare chest and shoulders. Now that Tim was home, he was happy to keep him company, if nothing more. The musical guests on Saturday Night Live were beginning their second number, which signaled that it was nearly the end of the program.

  “It was okay… fairly busy.” Tim slipped out of his shoes and unbuckled his belt. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Sorry. Have you been asleep long?”

  “It’s okay. Not long. I lasted through most of the evening news. There wasn’t much news, really, but it’s supposed to be warmer weather tomorrow and through most of the week.”

  “I think I’ll take a quick shower. I feel kinda sticky.”

  “Oh, it’s Scissor Sisters. They’re supposed to be gay, or at least some of them are. A friend of mine went to see them perform at the Warfield last time they were in town and he raved about them.”

  “Do you mean one of your employees?”

  “No…” Nick reached for the remote to turn up the volume. “I have some friends outside of work, you know, but this one also happens to be a client.” Nick didn’t mean to sound bitchy, but he was still groggy and Tim was talking while he wanted to hear the TV.

  Tim didn’t know why he was questioning Nick. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust him. Tim felt better in the shower, letting his tensions run down the drain with the soapy water. Still, it was strange to think of Nick having friends Tim didn’t know about after all this time. He had friends with whom he discussed pop music groups? He never talked about music with Tim, but then Tim didn’t pay much attention to the latest fads in music or movie stars or politics or celebrity gossip. Nick was always more aware of what went on in the world than he was.

  At least Tim was never bored when Nick was around. They were spending ‘quality time’ together these days, as the pop-psychologists on the TV talk shows might say, not that Tim wasted time watching talk shows, either. Tim spent most of his days off during the mid-week up at Nick’s house overlooking the Russian River. And Nick timed his drive down from Monte Rio on Friday nights to arrive in San Francisco when
Tim was getting off work at Arts. They might stop for a drink at one of the Castro bars afterward, but they were usually eager to go back to Tim’s house on Hancock Street and climb into bed. Some nights they pretended it was their first time and some nights they did it on the kitchen table or in the bathtub or the living room in front of the fireplace. Some nights it even felt like their first time, but not lately… not since they’d been back from L.A. Nick usually stayed until Monday morning, but that cut it close for his work, since he did the bank deposits from the nursery on Mondays. Fortunately, most of the traffic was heading into the city at the hour when Nick headed out over the Golden Gate Bridge.

  Tim was about to turn off the shower when he saw Nick standing at the toilet. “Wow, you must have been holding that for a while. Been drinking beer?” Tim reached for a towel.

  “Don’t turn the water off, babe. I was coming in to join you.”

  Tim stepped out of the shower and gave Nick a quick kiss. “I’ll meet you in bed, okay?” Tim knew that a lot of guys envied him. Nick was a great looking guy. He was fun and smart and sexy and successful, and he was good to Tim. They were crazy about each other, but every once in a while a small part of Tim missed the old days, the lonely days, the exciting days when he had no one to answer to.

  “Don’t fall asleep before I get there.”

  Sometimes Tim just wanted to go out and trash around and sometimes he just wanted to be alone. It seemed like a stupid thing to complain about and Tim wasn’t really complaining. He was just frustrated by the sameness of his life these days. There was comfort in coming home to find Nick asleep in his bed, but sometimes Tim just wanted to curl up and crash. Tonight he was tired and now Nick was wide awake. Tim almost hoped that if Nick wanted sex tonight, they could hurry up and get it over with and get some sleep.

  Their car trip to L.A. was fun, but it felt like a sexual marathon. It had been great, Tim had to admit, but enough was enough. They’d spent hours in the car talking about plans for the house on Hancock that he’d inherited from Jason. Some projects Tim could do by himself, even if they took months. They would add to the value of the place if he ever wanted to sell it, though Tim couldn’t imagine that day would ever come.