Leaving New York

Chapter 18

The caterers brought everything plus many young guys, some quite attractive. The terrace filled up with bags of hamburger buns, real china, flower arrangements, silverware. Chefs, waiters, and waitresses swarmed around under the nose of an old guy named Jacque. When I met him, he told me to just stay out of the way. I tidied up the house ruminating about Gar figuring out I was gay—or thought he did. The phone rang.

"Bonjour."

"Jack?"

"Chloe."

"Everything going okay?"

"Oh, sure."

"Are the caterers there? I hope they haven't freaked you out? Jacque did Mama's parties."

"It's okay."

"We're doing some shopping, Barry and me. I haven't had any new clothes since Momma died." She paused, her voice quivering. "Barry bought me some cool stuff—I'll show you."

"Nice."

"We'll be there by seven. There will be some early birds; just show them the bar. Has Gar called?"

"No."

"Well, I'll call him—he's still upset we have to go to Johannesburg."

"I thought he was into it."

"Africa, yes. Helping to open an office, not so much. Is your friend coming?"

"I think so."

"I liked him—you have good taste. Oh, I got to go." What taste did I have? I just wanted a friend, not Liberace. Later, after I took a shower, slipped on dress pants, the doorbell rang. I looked out a second-story window at two carloads of people getting out, led by a Rolls convertible. I got a pang of shyness walking downstairs. The people in cars trickled inside. A willowy blonde asked, "Are you, Jack?"

"Yes."

"I'm Sonia, Chloe's friend. Darling, she told me about you at lunch yesterday. You are quite the hunk like she said." She waved a long cigarette holder.

"Dear, you wouldn't mind getting me a drink?"

"Oh . . . sure. What can I get you?"

"A Vodka Gimlet, honey—not much Gimlet." She let out a howling laugh, not unlike Joanne Worley's from "Laugh-In" days.

"Right."

I went to the substantial makeshift bar covering the main dining room table. Waiters carried trays of champagne around.

"Here, Sonia."

"Thanks, you're a peach." She was talking to the Rolls driver—a slick-looking guy in Armani with perfect teeth. I stood there to join the conversation, but they wandered off as if I didn't exist. Finally, I stood in a corner sipping a Coke, just watching people. Finally, Chloe, Gar, Barry, and Lion showed up. Gar rushed to me, "There was a huge accident on the freeway. I tried to call, but your phone went to full voicemail."

"I'm sorry."

"You need to keep your phone cleaned out and on you, Jack. We might need you."

"Sorry."

He smelled his pit "Whew. I got to shower."

Chloe, Barry, and Lion disappeared. "Tell Chloe I'll be out soon."

"Yes, sir."

I told Gar's wife then got her a drink. Clement showed up wearing a puffy purple shirt with black jeans—he looked like a giant grape.

"Hey, Clement."

"Bonjour. You look very nice—I'm underdressed."

"You look fine—it's a barbecue."

We walked to the terrace dotted with a hundred votive candles.

"Where are the owners?"

"They're around."

Just then, Chloe tapped me on the shoulder, "Where is my husband?"

"I told you, taking a shower." I could smell pot on her."

"Alright. Hi, Clement."

"Bonjour, Madame."

"Clement, this is my brother-in-law, Lion."

"I know who you are, monsieur. Your band, "Hellbound," is my favorite." I could see that Clement had a bit of the suck-up amidst his personality traits.

Barry said, "Well, thank you, Clement."

"'Good for Lovin' -what a song!"

"I wish we could make some hits now."

Clem stood a little too close to me.

Chloe said, "I need to go mingle. See you guys later." She grabbed Barry's hand as they walked off.

Clement said, "The decorations are gorgeous. Did you do it?"

"No-all catered. They came at ten today then set up like a hurricane. Let's get some food—I need to sit down."

We ate at an empty table at the end of the terrace. A little jazz combo played; as people drank more, they got louder. Everyone seemed to know everyone else—I spotted Gar wearing a white linen suit moving around calmly to clumps of guests. He was leaving the next day.

Clement said, "Monsieur Connally, you will miss him?"

"Yes, mostly."