San Francisco, 1999
Geoff moved into a small apartment that his former lover, Jason, had located for him. Jason was somewhat embarrassed that he had a new partner and could not manage to care for Geoff himself. Jason had a restaurant and a life, and would help his old friend all that he could, and Geoff had insisted on his own living quarters. His sisters had come to help him move into the apartment, and only Jason knew that they were supplementing the monthly rental to make it possible for Geoff to hire two strong, young college students as his alternating attendants. Jason was, in fact, amazed at how much Geoff had improved on his experimental drug regimen. It gave hope to many who suffered from his illness.
Maddie had insisted on buying him a new computer, and Geoff was surprised at how much time he now spent on the Internet. It was a world open to him, even if he was confined to a chair much of the time. He subscribed to newsgroups, exchanged mail with old friends, and ordered books. He took music files off of legally beleaguered sites and made his own CDs. He wrote letters to editors of newspapers and faxed them to distant offices. The computer was his magic carpet.
Kate emailed him daily:
“I’ll be up in two weeks to check on you. I hope that the assistants are proving to be as helpful as their recommendations! Mad says that you have gained weight and are feeling comfortable. I heard from Eleanor that she means to ask James for a divorce!! Can you believe? She stayed with him while he was in the hospital, but I think that the heart attack made both of them think about their lives. Anyway, James doesn’t seem too upset. Christopher is flailing around in his first year at the university, but fortunately is telling most of his troubles to his father. Jerome will have to deal with it. By the way, I saw your Dr. Raymond when I was leaving your apartment. We didn’t talk much, but he mentioned that his mother was a Mormon and interested in family history. I haven’t had time to pursue any more of our ancestors—I have been busy trying to keep our current relatives straight! Love, K.”
Geoff slowly typed a reply:
“Hey, Katie: Well, I’m sure that our brother will survive his divorce. He doesn’t give a rat’s ass about anybody anyhow.”
“Dr. Raymond says that you are always rushing away when he encounters you. Running from something, sis? Dr. R. is not married and is not gay (so he says, and I have no evidence to the contrary). He was married and has a couple of kids somewhere—in Oregon, I think. His research in these new drugs is being presented to the FDA soon. He won’t make a lot of money if it gets approved … but he seems delighted that he has been able to help me. He’s a good man, K. Too bad that I can’t arrange marriages for my sisters! ’Til tomorrow. Love, G.”
Geoff’s attendant for that afternoon was a young musician named Louis, who sported a pierced nose and eye, a tattoo on his neck, and rainbow-hued hair. He was busy in the kitchen washing dishes when the doorbell rang. “Can you get that?” called Geoff, busy at his computer keyboard.
Louis dried his hands on a towel and trotted to open the door. Aunt Bette stood at the portal and regarded him head to toe with her sharp eyes as if he were an exotic species of insect. “I’m Geoff’s aunt. Good afternoon, young man,” she announced.
She wore a raincoat of a wild white and black zebra pattern and held a dripping black umbrella in her hand. “Come in—come in,” said Geoff quickly, swiveling his chair and signaling to Louis to come and help him rise. Aunt Bette gestured sharply for him to stay where he was. She closed the door behind her, crossed the room swiftly, and gave Geoff a wet but firm hug. “Dearest Geoffrey, you look much better today,” she commented. “That new medical regime is effective, I trust.”
“Thank you, love. I’m grateful for every day!” Geoff gestured toward his computer. “I have a world brought in through the miracle of modern electronics!”
“Um. Find the thing useful, do you? The girls are always after me to get one of these things.” She gestured with her umbrella at the computer setup before surveying the room as Louis helped her remove her coat. Geoff had a minimum of furniture, but his good modern paintings and a few sculptures were carefully placed in the freshly decorated studio. The air smelled of lemons, and the rain pounded against his high windows.
“You didn’t tell me that you were coming today! Surely you’re not alone.”
Bette paused and surveyed the sofa and chairs. She selected the cushioned armchair and made herself comfortable. “Of course not. Unfortunately, navigating an airport these days is difficult for an Olympic athlete, let alone a woman my age. Kate is with me, but she lingered at that grocery store down the block. I believe that she’s going to stock your larder.”
Geoff laughed. “Well—I don’t cook much. Louis and the guys sometimes do. By the way, I haven’t formally introduced you two: Aunt Bette, this is Louis Gomez, one of my helpers. He plays the bass guitar and will be very rich and famous someday. Louis, this is my very elegant and much-loved Aunt Bette.”
Aunt Bette surveyed Louis and nodded solemnly. “He looks strong and capable,” she said warily. “I’m not into the body decoration, but then again, times do change.” Suddenly, she looked a bit uneasy, but extended her hand graciously. Louis grinned, shook her hand, and retreated to the kitchen.
“Why the sudden visit? What on earth is the matter? Are you well?” asked Geoff quickly.
“I’m disgustingly healthy. I just might outlive all of you, and you’ll never inherit my money.”
“Not likely,” said Geoff briskly. “I just want to live to see the new millennium arrive!”
“Hmph. Then you’re going to have to survive to January of 2001. Katie wants me to go to some party that the Café is arranging—but I think that I shall be at home with Guy Lombardo.”
He’s dead,” laughed Geoff.
Aunt Bette scowled. “Of course he is. I have recordings,” she sighed. “There is always Dick Clark, I suppose. Perhaps, they will blow up another building in Las Vegas. Such is the wild New Year’s Eve of an old woman.”
“Where are you staying?” asked Geoff. “Hey, Louis, heat some water for tea,” he added in a louder voice.
“Tea on line one!” Louis shouted from the kitchen.
“Tea? Don’t you have any gin?” asked Aunt Bette, smiling briefly.
“If I had known you were coming—” Geoff suddenly looked thoughtful. “Would you please hand me the phone? I have to call my doctor …”
Half an hour later, Kate was struggling up the stairs of Geoff’s apartment trying to manage her umbrella, her key to his apartment, and a sodden paper bag. The pouring icy rain masked the sound of the man who walked up behind her. “May I help?” he asked briskly.
Startled, Kate’s grip slipped and she tore the flimsy bag as she grasped it in a vain effort to contain the contents. Lettuce, tomatoes, a small bottle of detergent, and several fresh eggs hit the wet cement steps. The eggs broke immediately, combining with the juice from the smashed tomatoes. Dr. Raymond O’Donnell stood below her, water dripping from his hat and wearing an expression of uneasy chagrin.
“Not how I had planned to greet you,” he said quickly. “Let me help.”
Kate knelt quickly and retrieved the lettuce and detergent. She stared at the broken eggs with some surprise and an eerie memory of her own writings about Samuel and Rebecca. “Well, at least the gin bottle didn’t break,” she mumbled at last.
He nodded approvingly. “One must be grateful for small miracles. I happen to have a couple of bottles of excellent red wine in this plastic bag. Geoff told me that you were coming, so I thought that I’d take the liberty of bringing my own refreshments.”
She met his eyes and suddenly smiled. “What a mess. I’ll go up to Geoff’s and get some rags or something. You stand here and make sure that nobody slips.”
“Spoken like a true attorney. You might loan me your umbrella.”
“Spoken like a practical physician. Don’t catch cold. Here—I’ll only be a moment.”
The doctor stood and guarded the door from potential lawsuits. Fortunately, few people were about at this time of the evening, and Kate returned quickly with a roll of paper towels to clean up the mess. “Damn … there goes my omelet,” she commented. “I was going to make dinner for Geoff and Aunt Bette.”
“We can always order in,” he said briskly, shaking the umbrella before collapsing it and following her into the small foyer of Geoff’s apartment. They removed their wet clothing, and Kate ran her fingers through her sleek hair.
“Thank God that you’re not a woman who fusses about her hair getting frizzy in wet weather,” he commented.
“Geoff called you, didn’t he? Doctor—” she began.
“Please, call me Nick,” he insisted.
“You don’t look like a Nick,” she observed. “Nick is a name for flashy gambler in Las Vegas … or a plump old fellow who watches too much football.”
“Call me Nicholas then. I’ve already decided to call you Katherine,” he said lightly. “’Conformable as other household Kates …”
“I’m not a shrew to be tamed,” she laughed. “Let’s go on up—Aunt Bette can’t wait to meet you.”
“Will she need to inspect my teeth?” he asked as they waited for the elevator.
“Possibly. Don’t believe anything she says after two martinis, by the way. She’ll have your life story in no time.”
“Good. I love telling my life’s story. I’d like to tell it to you.”
She paused as the elevator door opened and looked at him suspiciously. “You barely know me, Nicholas.”
“Geoff has told me so much about you,” he paused. “Don’t ask why, but I have this strong premonition that you will be somebody special in my life.”
She found herself blushing. “Doctor—Nicholas—I don’t know what Geoff has told you, but I can assure you that he is highly prejudiced in my favor.”
“I should hope so. I hate to be bored.” The elevator opened, and Kate moved swiftly away from him and toward Geoff’s door. “I also expect to be invited for dinner.”
Dr. O’Donnell did not, in fact, tell his life story to Aunt Bette, Geoff, and Kate during their improvised dinner of red wine and pizza. Aunt Bette was too involved in questioning the doctor about Geoff’s medical condition and the new therapies. Geoff covered his ears and threatened a retreat to bed. “I’ve heard this discussed enough! Let’s talk about the impeachment or the millennium or gossip about our relatives!!”
The doctor finally insisted that Geoff needed to get some rest and offered to drive Aunt Bette and Kate back to their hotel. Since Aunt Bette always favored the Mark Hopkins, he suggested that they all go up to the Top of the Mark for drinks. Aunt Bette declined but insisted that Kate should go on. “We’re sharing a room, and I want peace and quiet for a while. Go on with Nick,” she ordered.
“Nick?” said Kate with a raised eyebrow when she and the doctor were seated near the windows at the bar. “She called you Nick?”
He shrugged. “Of course. I told her my name, and she decided that she liked Nick.”
They ordered cognac, and Kate looked down at the wonderland of San Francisco at night. Drifts of fog were circulating around the tall, brightly lit buildings and gave the city a fairy-tale appearance. “Sometimes, it looks like a magic castle from up here,” she said. The bar itself was dim, and the music was vintage Frank Sinatra and kept at low volume. “You feel so totally exempt from all of the responsibilities below.”
He nodded. “Isn’t that why people come here? You can’t see the dirt down below.”
“Some people live their entire lives like this—they have the money to insulate them from most of reality. Like all of those eastern corporate fellows who buy and sell our forests and never leave their concrete palaces.”
“No! We’re not going to lament the death of the ecosystem tonight,” he broke in. “Here, drink your cognac, and I shall tell you the story of my life.”
“Do I have a choice about this?” she asked wryly.
“No. I’m paying for the drinks.” He smiled and leaned back in his chair. He was not handsome in the classic manner. His hair was thinning rapidly on his head, and there was considerable gray in his beard. But he radiated warmth and a gentlemanly kindness that Kate found extremely attractive. She liked him.
“I was born in Utah, and my parents were Mormons—Mom still is living there. They tried to raise me as a good religious man—and believe me, being a Mormon man is not a bad deal. You get to design your own galaxy after you die, rule the household while you live, and other good things. So I wore the garment and went to services and even did my two years of mission in Japan. Then they lost me—I’m just not a religious person. So I took up education, alcohol, tobacco, and assorted recreational chemicals in my college years, and Dad disowned me.”
“Sounds a bit familiar,” Kate muttered.
“I was lucky. After med school, I did residency in Idaho and was able to see my folks now and then. We were pretty close when he died. Dad wasn’t as religious as Mom is. He died five years ago of colon cancer. Mom carries on and spends lots of time at the library helping folks find their ancestors. When Geoff told me about your hobby of locating your own family even though you’re not a Mormon, my curiosity was piqued.”
“So you were a resident in Idaho …,” Kate prompted.
“Coeur D’Alene. White blight country—to the right of Attila the Hun. Fortunately, I don’t care much about politics, and playing soldier never appealed to me—at least not after Vietnam.” He paused, taking a sip of his cognac.
“You fought in Vietnam?” asked Kate.
“Let’s save that one for another time,” he said grimly. “For the past few years, I’ve been working with Berkeley and some biotech companies on promising AIDS drugs. Your brother has responded very well to our new experimental cocktail. You do know that he volunteered for this?”
“Yes. I am also his lawyer. He sent me the papers before he signed them.”
“He may get a few weeks or months of improved life,” said Nicholas very quietly. “He wants to live to see the new millennium.”
“Aunt Bette is trying to drag it out. She keeps telling him that the new millennium won’t begin until January of 2001.”
“Good for your aunt! Geoff has to have something to work for. I understand that he’s helping you write your family history and doing some research on the web. This is all to the good. Try to keep him positive.”
Kate shrugged. “Geoff is pretty realistic about his illness. We so appreciate all that you are doing for him.”
“Okay, back to me,” said Nicholas briskly. “I have been married twice. The first time was to a very hip young woman in college, and this lasted eighteen months. Of course, we had been married by a priestess of some goddess or other, and this marriage wasn’t really legal. Four years after that, I married Lisa. We were happy for a while and had two kids. Both of them are in college right now. They live with their mother—she’s remarried, by the way, and lives in Colorado Springs. Our divorce was pretty amiable as divorces go, so the kids haven’t suffered too much. Lisa didn’t much like being the wife of a man who was always at the hospital or in the laboratory. I have the kids for vacations. They like it here in San Francisco, and we get along fine. My blood type is O positive … and I test negative for AIDS.”
Kate drank the last of her cognac in one gulp. “Now, what would you do if I invited you up to my beautiful room with a king-sized bed and wonderful views of the city for a passionate night?” Her green eyes were bright with mischief.
He paused. “I have no idea … but I’d think of something.”
Kate stood up. “Unfortunately, I have a chaste twin bed in a room with my venerable Aunt Bette. We’re both out of luck.”
He helped her into her jacket and looked perplexed. “Do you mean that we are out of luck? We?”
She said nothing more until they entered the elevator. “I like you, Nicholas. More than anybody I’ve met in many years. You’re almost too good to be true, and I’m not in the market for a long-distance affair.”
“I can be very creative …,” he began.
“Quit looking so smug,” she said. “I’m still looking for your big flaw …”
“Katherine, you’re being silly.”
“I am being cautious. You’re attracted to a story that my brother has created.”
“Give me some credit, Katherine. I’ve met a lot of women in the past few years, and most of them were interested. I haven’t been a monk, and I do think that you are something special.”
The door opened, and they walked toward Kate’s room. She turned to face him and offered him her hand. “Goodbye, Dr. O’Donnell.”
He shook his head, took her hand, and kissed it gently. “No—just good night.” He turned back toward the elevators, and Kate’s cheeks felt suddenly hot as she fumbled in her purse for her room key.
Aunt Bette was sitting up in bed reading a Vanity Fair magazine when Kate entered the room. She slid her reading glasses down her creamed nose and raised her eyebrows critically. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“Do you like him?”
Kate hung her coat in the closet and then looked at her hand. “Yes,” she said softly. “I like him very much. More than I’ve liked anybody in a long, long time.” She came to sit on the foot of her aunt’s bed. “Sometimes, I feel as if I’ve been waiting for this man to appear in my life. Isn’t that stupidly romantic?”
“Well, don’t look so mournful, Katherine. The best things in life are stupidly romantic. Enjoy them while you can.” Aunt Bette folded her magazine and placed it on the nightstand. “Let’s go to sleep. I have a feeling that the tomorrows may hold some interest for us both. Ten bucks says that flowers arrive in the morning. An extra five says that they’re red roses.”
Kate laughed, “You’re on!”
Kate lost fifteen dollars just seven hours later, but she always suspected that Aunt Bette had consulted with Dr. O’Donnell earlier in the evening, and that she had definitely been cheated.