Page 2 of The Happy Month
After declining to answer, the officer asked a few more questions. Patrick barely said anything, Vera was doing such a good job doing the talking. Finally, the officer walked over and spoke to his superior for a moment, then came back and told them they could go.
Outside, the air was cooler than in the bar but still hot and heavy. They rushed across the street. Shaken, Patrick asked, “Do you mind if I take my jacket off?”
“You can do whatever you want. Why wouldI care?”
Patrick took off his jacket, his white shirt underneath was drenched in sweat. Vera said, “You should take that off, too. You’ll catch cold.”
“I really shouldn’t.”
“You’re wearing an undershirt. I can see it. Why are you wearing an undershirt on a day like today?”
“I suppose I’m a bit straitlaced.”
Patrick took the shirt off. He didn’t know how hot it had gotten that day. He hadn’t wanted to know.
Then Ivan and a girl came out of the bar. Ivan saw them and they crossed the street.
“That is such a good idea,” he said, before removing his own shirt.
The girl with him started to giggle. To Vera she asked, “Are you making them strip tease?”
“This is Gigi,” Vera said to Patrick. “She’s my real date. Oh, take that undershirt off. It’s sopping. You poor thing.”
Taking the T-shirt off, he peeked at Ivan who raised his eyebrows.
Ivan said, “My car is just down here.”
They followed him half a block to an almost new, cream-colored Cadillac Series 62 convertible. He’d left the top down.
“Let’s go to my house,” he said, opening the driver’s door.
“Where is it?” Vera asked.
“Not far. Holmby Hills.”
“Fancy,” Gigi said.
“It’s nice enough. Barbara Stanwyck lives a few blocks away. Hop in.”
The girls climbed into the back, Ivan and Patrick in the front. The boys stuck to the leather seats but were still so much cooler. As they pulled away from the curb, Gigiasked, “Do you think we could drop in on Miss Stanwyck for a night cap?”
“Absolutely,” Ivan said, tongue in cheek. “I know she’d like to meet a girl like you.”
That made them laugh. As they drove off, the warm night air caressed them, and the sound of their laughter overflowed and spilled onto the street.
CHAPTER ONE
July 22, 1996
Monday
Happiness is an untrustworthy emotion. There is always the fear that you’ll go to sleep one night only to wake up and find happiness has packed its bags and fled. Leaving you bereft, hollowed out, desperately alone. But while happiness shines on you, life is glorious, the days more beautiful, strangers kinder, laughter easy to come by. It's almost enough to make you forget the fear. Almost.
The Freedom Agenda was just a few blocks from Long Beach’s struggling downtown area. It sat in a short row of stores, between an art supply store and a record shop. I always wondered how those businesses survived. I’d never seen anyone walk into them. It was a short drive from the house my lover, my partner, Ronnie and I owned on 2nd Street.
I was early. Not an uncommon occurrence since I’d stopped bartending at The Hawk, one of the gay bars overon Broadway in a section called the stroll. My boss, Lydia Gonsalez, Esquire, was giving me more hours to make up for the change, but it wasn’t necessary. I was comfortable. My boyfriend made a decent living and I’d just inherited a chunk of money which we used to buy a co-op. The third piece of real estate Ronnie and I owned together. If he kept up this pace, in a few years I wouldn’t have to do much more than pick up rent checks. I didn’t hate that idea.
As I said, I got to work early that day. The door was unlocked, which meant Lydia was already there. I paused in the lobby after I shut the door. I did that a lot. I’d shot a man in just that spot a few months before. There’s always guilt when you kill someone, no matter how right that choice. I was happy enough to only think about it for a moment.
