Blue Twilight (10 page)

S
an Francisco was all aglitter as we approached soon after sunset. I liked to think the city was celebrating our return. But then I had plenty of time to muse, what with being stuck in traffic with a bunch of Beamers, Saabs, and Mercedes. My Ford jockeyed for position with the best of them as we inched our way across the Golden Gate Bridge. It seemed as if the entire Bay Area was attempting to make it home all at once. This was the ritual Sunday night re-entry back into town after the weekend exodus.

We drove back along Lombard, turned down Van Ness, and wended our way over to Union as if we’d been living here all of our lives. Pulling into Mei Rose’s driveway, I booted open the car door and rolled out, fully aware that we’d arrived home at a good time. Tony Baloney was out of his basket, having been safely tucked away for the night.

Terri and I were already discussing which take-out menu to order from as we began our climb up the stairs. But wait! A wonderful aroma was emanating from my apartment.

“What do you think? Maybe Santou decided to cook up some of his special gumbo and surprise us,” Terri suggested.

“Could be,” I replied hopefully.

We opened the door and walked inside, only to realize the fragrance was closer to that of a Chinese restaurant. Then I caught sight of Mei Rose jostling pots and pans about in my
tiny kitchen. She wiped the perspiration from her forehead and glared at us.

“Shame on you two, leaving Jake all alone like this,” she clucked. “What you expect him to eat? The man needs food in order to gain back his strength. Otherwise how he ever supposed to get well?”

I glanced over at where Santou lounged in his recliner chair, grinning from ear to ear. He reminded me of a human version of Tony Baloney as he ate a bowl of home-made wonton soup, clearly taking pleasure in being pampered. He finally acknowledged my accusatory stare.

“What could I do? Mei Rose insisted,” he offered up in self-defense.

Mei Rose proclaimed her annoyance by clanging a metal spoon about while whipping up an assortment of dishes, and continuing to give me the evil eye. What a feat.

“That’s it. Tomorrow you come shopping with me. It’s high time you learn to cook,” she advised, with a warning shake of her finger.

“But I can’t. I have to go to work!” I protested.

“Early, early morning before your job. No more excuses,” Mei Rose stubbornly retorted, holding her ground.

It was clear that she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Besides, my stomach told me this wasn’t the time to pick a fight. Instead, I took a deep breath and plunked myself down in a chair as Mei Rose brought out a feast, setting each dish on the table before us.

There were pork dumplings, sesame chicken, steamed seabass, Chinese vegetables, and a big bowl of chow fun. Yum, yum. Quiet momentarily reigned as we proceeded to dig in. That is, until the apartment buzzer rang.

“Are you expecting anyone?” Santou asked, spearing a second dumpling.

“No,” I responded, already knowing I’d have to be the one to run downstairs and answer the door.

Even Terri didn’t bother to look up. Maybe Mei Rose was on to something. Food certainly did bring everyone together—which is precisely why God invented restaurants in the first place.

“That last dumpling is mine,” I said, staking my claim before leaving the table.

Some day I’d convince Mei Rose to invest in an intercom system. Until then, I’d just have to consider this to be my exercise.

The doorbell buzzed again and Tony Baloney joined in the fray, his bad-ass bark as squeaky as the lid being pried off a rusty tin can.

“You go get ’em, killer,” I encouraged, figuring that would give the pooch enough adrenaline to keep him going for the rest of the year.

I opened the front door to find Eric Holt standing outside.

“Rachel, you look terrific,” he said, and gave me a kiss.

Eric was the kind of man that every woman fervently prayed would be straight. Tall and lean, with high cheekbones to die for, he was also charming and rich, with impeccable taste in clothing, and an eat-your-heart-out George Hamilton tan. Eric had been smart enough to invest in the high-tech boom and make a fortune in the stock market. But his true genius lay in getting out while the going was good.

“I hope it’s not a problem that I’m dropping by like this. I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d say hello.”

I doubted that his visit was quite so unintentional, but was glad to see him, anyway. We’d only recently met, though Terri had known him ever since his Boy Toy days.

Eric had also lived in New Orleans at one time. He used to go to the club to watch Terri perform. Back then, Eric was
straight—or at least that’s what he’d told himself. The Boy Toy had been his first venture into the gay world. He viewed himself as a patron of the arts and had considered it to be safe. After all, what could be more inspiring than watching someone like Terri transform himself into a dozen different divas every night of the week?

A few months later, Eric had been brave enough to take the leap and come out of the closet. It was news that his wife of five years wasn’t terribly happy to hear, being that their marriage also involved a child. Even so, the relationship had managed to survive a while longer. Terri never learned what prompted the final breakup, though it wouldn’t have been very hard to guess. Whatever the reason, it proved enough to make Eric pack his bags and skedaddle—all the way over to Europe.

During that time, he and Terri not only stayed in touch, but also managed to visit each other on a regular basis. Still, it had come as a surprise when Eric moved back to the States after a breakup with his partner of ten years. He’d chosen to settle in the Bay Area about eight months ago. It was probably one of the reasons why Terri still hadn’t gone home. These days, Eric worked for a surviving Internet company and lived about an hour south of San Francisco.

“Have you eaten yet?”

Eric shook his head.

“Good. Then come upstairs and join us for dinner.”

He appeared to be a bit reticent. Then I remembered the first time we’d met. He’d come to my place for dinner and eaten my chili. It had obviously been an experience that he still couldn’t forget.

“Don’t worry. Mei Rose did the cooking tonight.”

“In that case, I’m totally there,” he said with a grin.

Terri jumped up from his seat and gave him a hug as he walked in.

“Eric! I can’t believe it. I haven’t seen you for months. I felt sure you must have gotten bored with me.”

“Don’t be silly. Something just came up, is all. I was out of town for awhile.”

“On vacation?” Terri asked, with what sounded like a tinge of jealousy.

“No, family business. Things have been crazy ever since I came back. Nothing we need to talk about at the moment,” Eric said, making it clear that the subject was temporarily off-limits.

“Good. This is meal time,” Mei Rose declared, filling a plate and placing it in front of him. “Now eat,” she instructed, sounding like the Chinese version of a Jewish mother.

“So, how’s the Internet business going these days?” Santou asked, having lost more than his fair share of money in the stock market plunge.

“Things are actually looking up. The good news is that our books aren’t cooked, and advertising revenues are beginning to boom again. The bad news is they’re keeping me busy as hell. Hopefully that will change after I’ve been there a while longer.”

“Terrific. Who knows? The way it sounds, I might eventually make back some of my money before I kick off,” Jake quipped.

He reached for the container of Percoset by his side, only to have Mei Rose sharply slap his hand.

“You finish eating first before you take that stuff. Otherwise it make you sick,” she reprimanded.

A look of shock flashed across his face and I held my breath, wondering if Santou would blow. There was no question but that he’d become dependent on the pills. Instead, I found myself amazed as he backed down and sheepishly nodded his head.

“In that case, how about some more chow fun?”

Unbelievable. Mei Rose was proving herself quite the force to be reckoned with.

She headed downstairs after dinner while Terri and I began to clean up. It was then that I was surprised yet again.

“Why don’t you two sit down and visit with Eric while I wash the dishes?” Santou offered. “I don’t want you thinking I’m not good for anything around here.”

“That’s the furthest thought from my mind,” I assured Jake, as he slipped an arm around my waist. It was almost like having the old Santou back again.

“Actually, I’d like to go out for a drink if you don’t mind,” Eric said, coming to stand beside Terri. “I haven’t had a chance to explore this area of town very much and it’s a beautiful night. I’m not looking for anything fancy. Just a simple, quiet place with local color and not a lot of tourists.”

“Sure, go ahead. Terri knows a few spots he can take you to,” I replied, gracefully bowing out.

“Why don’t you and Jake come along?” Eric suggested.

“Thanks, but washing dishes is about all the excitement I’m up for tonight,” Santou joked.

However, I heard the edge in his voice, and knew that he didn’t particularly care for Eric.

“I think I’ll stay with Jake. Besides, the two of you have some catching up to do.”

“I’d really like it if you’d join us, Rachel,” Eric insisted. “I could use a woman’s perspective on something that’s going on in my life right now.”

“Go ahead, chère,” Santou urged. “There’s another ball game on TV that I’m planning to watch.”

But I suspected Jake really wanted me out of the way so that he could take a couple of Percoset in peace.

“Maybe it’s best if I stay.”

“For chrissakes, Rachel. Don’t you trust me anymore?”
Santou irritably snapped, as Eric and Terri edged their way toward the door.

“Frankly no. I’m beginning to think that you’re out of control,” I bluntly whispered, sorely tempted to hire Mei Rose to stand guard over him.

Santou dried his hands on a dish towel and threw it down. I waited, not knowing exactly what to expect, as he drew closer. To my relief, he placed a finger under my chin and brought my face up to meet his.

“I promise not to take any more pills tonight. What’s more, I’ll be fully awake when you arrive home. How does that sound?”

“Terrific,” I responded, truly wanting to believe him.

“All right then. Go out and have a good time.”

I couldn’t help but feel anxious as I walked out the door and left him behind.

“How long has that been going on?” Eric inquired as we stepped outside.

“What do you mean?” I responded, choosing to play dumb.

“Santou’s addiction to pain pills. I saw the vials of Vicodan and Percoset. That’s pretty heavy stuff.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” I reluctantly acknowledged. “He’s been taking them ever since the plane crash. Jake says he’s in too much pain to stop.”

“That’s probably bullshit. If not, he might need another operation. In either case, you’d be smart to get him off those drugs as soon as possible considering his personality type.”

“How do
you
know so much about it?” I asked, curious.

“I had a little addiction problem myself when I was coming to terms with being gay.”

“I never knew that,” Terri said, sounding surprised. “But then I also didn’t know right away that you had a wife.”

Eric glanced down at his feet, as though to make sure they kept moving one in front of the other.

“Then I suppose Santou hasn’t told you that we were in the same drug counseling group back in New Orleans, either,” Eric revealed. “We were both hooked on cocaine in those days.”

“What? You’re kidding. No, he hasn’t,” I responded, feeling somewhat astonished. “Of course, he doesn’t like to talk about it all that much.”

No wonder Eric had so easily recognized Santou’s problem. Maybe that’s why Jake didn’t care for him. I thought about that as we strolled down Columbus Avenue, before allowing myself to be seduced by the neighborhood.

Six square blocks make up the heart of North Beach, every one of them packed with calzone joints, trattorias, and an overabundance of coffeehouses. We passed Café Roma, which proudly promoted its coffee as being “Black as Night, Strong as Sin, Sweet as Love, Hot as Hell.”

“That sounds exactly like what a good man should be,” Terri joked.

There were any number of spots we could have patronized where the jukebox played Pavarotti and the cappuccino came with a shot of sambucca. However, I knew where it was that I wanted to go.

I stopped when we came to the Gold Spike, aware there was no more authentic bar in town. The place has been around since 1920, and is as unfashionable as they come. Not only is the wine served in tumblers, but the restroom is reached by running through the kitchen while dodging bullets of hot grease.

We sat at a table near the bar, where a bunch of locals listened nostalgically to Dean Martin soulfully sing, “Everybody Loves Somebody Sometime.”

“There’s a lesson here. Your mistake was that you asked to go some place simple. That immediately gave Rach the op
portunity to head for a dive,” Terri bantered, as the waiter approached and took our order.

I sipped my wine when it arrived, and waited for Eric to reveal the reason as to why he’d asked me to come along.

“I really am sorry that I haven’t been in touch for a while, but a lot has been going on. I had to fly back to New Orleans, for one thing,” he began.

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call that a fate worse than death. The town’s a lot of fun,” Terri replied.

“Except the reason I went back was because my ex-wife died.”

“Oh God, Eric. Please forgive me. I had no idea,” Terri said, the color draining from his face. “How awful.”

“Don’t apologize. There’s no way you could have known.” He hesitated a moment. “I’ve told you that I have a daughter, haven’t I?”

Terri and I both nodded our heads.

“How old is she?” I asked.

Eric pulled a snapshot from his pocket and placed it on the table.

“That’s Lily. She just turned fifteen years old.”

I had to hold myself back from gasping out loud as I looked at the photo. A young girl with large brown eyes gazed shyly at the world. Her silky brunette hair hung down around her shoulders like a fine pashmina shawl. But nothing could hide the ugly scars that crawled up along her neck, spitefully covering her throat as if placed there by jealous wraiths. She must have had skin grafts at one time, because the texture of her flesh was rather thick and had an odd patterning to it. Even so, the girl was still exceptionally beautiful.