The Prodigal
Thirty-four
THE RECEPTION WAS BACK AT THE HOTEL. Sandra had everything ready for guests by the time we were out of the receiving line. The four of us rode in the limo taking a long route instead of the direct two blocks to the hotel. We drove about a mile along the lake and through downtown with people on the sidewalks waving at the “Just Married” sign on the back of the limo. The two brides sat opposite Wendy and me and kept looking at each other and giggling. It was infectious.
“Old Nebraska blessing say, get a room, you two!” I laughed.
“We’re going to,” squealed Melody.
“You have to make an appearance at the reception,” Wendy said. “Then you can rush off if you want to.”
“Oh, we won’t rush,” Lissa said, kissing Melody on the forehead. “We have the rest of our lives.” They kissed again. Lissa motioned Wendy to switch places and Melody kissed Wendy while Lissa explored my mouth with hers as if she’d never tasted me before. Her hands were busy rubbing my growing erection as mine sought out her smooth, perfect breasts.
“I feel so evil, molesting the bride on her wedding day in her gown,” I said. Lissa jumped up and switched places with Melody. Before we made the turn from the lake up to the hotel we were in as hot a clinch as Lissa and I had been moments before.
“Both brides want the Best Man and the Maid of Honor to fuck them before they leave on their honeymoon,” Melody whispered.
“Are you sure? It is kind of your special night.”
“Mr. Ames and Miss Martin, Mrs. Ames and Mrs. Ames request the honor of your presence in the bridal suite to witness and participate in the deflowering of the brides,” Melody laughed. “God! I’m so full of love it’s going to run over on everyone!” She switched with Wendy and Melody and Lissa were in another clinch that had their gowns nearly around their waists when we arrived at the reception.
“Tony, you remember Jonathan, don’t you?” Allison asked.
“Jonathan, it’s nice to see you again. When Allie asked to bring a date to the wedding, I didn’t expect you! Does this mean…?”
“Oh no! Still gay as old Paree,” Jonathan laughed. Allie had quickly become a leading lady in his theater here in Seattle and did guest gigs in Portland. “I wanted to plant a bug in your ear and hope we could get together soon,” Jonathan continued. “I am so in love with the painting of Allison that I’d like to show it to more people.”
“Jonathan is going to produce my one-woman show this fall, Tony. Isn’t that exciting?”
“That’s great! When?”
“Labor Day weekend,” Jonathan said. “It’s not the best timing, but we have to work around schedules and since her show will be intimate, we’re not expecting thousands. But it will showcase Allison and I think it might give her a boost. I can’t keep her tied up in Seattle forever.”
“That’s generous of you,” I said. “So, what does that have to do with showing more people my painting?”
“We’d like to use it as the poster and even sell your limited edition prints at the show,” Jonathan said.
“If it’s successful, Tony, Jonathan says we could take it on tour. You’d get both licensing and sales revenue,” Allie said.
“That’s generous and exciting,” I said. “Can we set up a time to talk with my agent next week? She’s over there and I know she always has business cards with her.”
Things had quieted down after dinner. People were still dancing and drinking champagne when Melody and Lissa kissed everyone and headed for their suite with a whispered, “Give us an hour, okay?” I held Wendy in my arms as we danced, swaying almost without moving our feet. It was beginning to get dark and everyone except the brides went to the waterfront to watch the fireworks. I kissed Wendy softly.
I don’t know what inspired me, but suddenly I wanted to have the same thing that Melody and Lissa had. I looked into Wendy’s eyes. “Let’s…” I rephrased quickly. “Do you want…?” Still wasn’t right. “Wendy, will you—” She silenced me—not with a finger, but clamping her whole hand across my mouth with a look of panic in her eyes.
“Tony! Don’t… Ever… Ask me that question! Don’t ever!”
“But…”
“If I gave you the answer you want, you’d always wonder if it was what I wanted or if I felt I had to. And I would wonder, too. If I said ‘no,’ I would have to leave. I couldn’t stay. Please don’t ever ask, Tony. I’m yours, but you aren’t my husband. You are my master.”
“I want you to be part of our family forever,” I said softly. “I don’t want to lose you like Kate.”
“I am part of our family. I will be forever,” she said kissing me. “And so is Kate. You’ll see.”
We walked hand-in-hand with the rest of the wedding guests and watched the fireworks.
“Makes you wonder what kind of fireworks are going on in the hotel,” Amy laughed slipping up beside Wendy and me. I put my arm around her and she hugged me.
“Oh, I have a suspicion. They’re just waiting for the big bang to cover their screams,” I laughed. “When are you headed for LA?”
“I’m not going.”
“What?”
“I kissed them goodbye after their party last weekend and said, ‘Have a nice life.’ I’m not going.”
“What happened Ames?”
“There are entirely too many people here with that name,” she laughed. “I can’t be what they want,” she continued. “I was going to just give myself to Thor and join them, but after… I couldn’t do it.”
“It was that bad, huh?” I said, thinking of making love to Amy on Memorial Day.
“Tony, you were everything a girl could want in a man—not just for her first time, but as a friend and lover. You were kind and gentle—and hard. My pussy felt stretched for two days. But you’re a guy. When it comes down to it, that’s a deal-breaker. I couldn’t convince myself that I was bi. I love Thor and his boy-bits don’t offend me, but they don’t do anything for me, either. And when it came down to it, Sonia just wanted a playmate. She’d chosen her life mate. I was never going to be part of what they have. So, I said goodbye.”
“That’s brave of you,” Wendy said reaching across me to take Amy’s hand. “It’s hard to be who you are when everyone wants something else.” She squeezed me as well and I understood. It was as impossible for Wendy to stop being submissive as for Amy to stop being gay.
What was it we were asking Kate to be that was just as impossible?
Lissa and Melody left for Hawaii on the nine o’clock flight Friday morning. Wendy and I took them to the airport and kissed them goodbye for their weeklong honeymoon at a resort that Mom and Dad had exchanged their timeshare for. Jack and Lexi gave them each an envelope with $1,000 cash in it for their expenses. The first thing Lissa and Melody said when they saw the cash was “Bikinis!” That was the image that I would carry of them for the entire week.
Mom and Dad had returned to our house after the reception with Gypsy, Oke, and Ken. It was the first time my folks had spent time with Kate’s family. I was so glad they came to the wedding, even though Kate was missing. The Trips were camped out in their van in the driveway and were headed out on the road again after lunch. Lexi and Jack arrived at the house about the same time as Wendy and me. The Trips were entertaining the adults with stories of their adventures so far. They’d been successful finding odd jobs to keep them in gas money and spent a couple of weeks each at Glacier and Yellowstone National Parks. They were headed toward the Grand Canyon next.
Gypsy motioned for me to join her in the dining room and I followed. Wendy was already there. Gypsy’s deck of cards was lying on top of a plain white envelope. I didn’t think much about it. There were cards all over the house with well-wishes for Melody and Lissa. I figured this was just one more. I didn’t wait for Gypsy’s instructions. I cut the deck and turned over a card. We all stared at it—the five of hearts.
“I don’t think that needs any explanation,” Gypsy said. She pushed the deck off the envelope. Wendy and I recognized the handwriting at once. Neatly written on the front it said, “Tony, Wendy, Lissa and Melody.” My hands were shaking as I reached to open it. Wendy touched my hand to help steady it. “It was taped to the front door when we got here last night,” Gypsy explained.
Inside there was a simple card. Penned in Kate’s clear script were the words, “I have never stopped loving you. K.” Wendy and I collapsed against each other crying.
“She was here,” I sobbed. “I thought I saw her at the wedding, but then she was gone. She came back.”
It had been six weeks since she’d left and we hadn’t heard a word from her. But she came back for the wedding. There was hope.
“I have to go paint, Tiger,” I whispered. It was just the two of us in the big bed and I hated to leave her there alone. “Will you be okay?”
“I’m a big girl, Tony,” she answered sleepily. “I’m not afraid of being alone for a while.” I kissed her and slipped out of the room. It was easy to forget she was a big girl and completely capable of functioning on her own. But all week, while Sandra managed the event, Wendy managed the family. She’d made sure everyone had a place to sleep, was fed, and got to the events on time.
I headed for the studio. It was midnight and images kept coming into my mind. It was a mish-mash and I didn’t know for sure what I’d draw when I got there. I was slipping into that zone and humming snatches of Allison’s aria as I drove. I hadn’t painted much in the past month. Not only did I not feel like it, but there was so much going on that there just wasn’t time. Especially when I’d spent all my free time working out my frustrations on the racquetball court. I was already a little behind in the two online classes that I needed to finish before fall. Doc’s class in fresco painting would start Monday. He felt that with my experience working on murals, it was a natural progression for me to learn the techniques of pigment on wet plaster. If I wasn’t on the dual degree program, I’d finish my degree in three years. That was sobering. And I still had the World Games coming up in three weeks.
I flipped on the lights in the studio and paused to absorb the atmosphere. The rack of canvases beckoned and I stood staring at the rack for a minute, trying to decide. When I reached for a blank, I brushed against the note Penny and I had left for Kate about putting her paintings in the vault. I glanced at it and saw the neat script at the bottom. “Thank you.” She’d been here. I closed my eyes and could almost feel her presence still in the room.
I put the canvas on the easel and turned out most of the lights. I was caught in a pool of light with my canvas, the rest of the room shrouded in darkness. I pulled tubes of paint and extender from the stock and opened them while staring at the blank surface. I hadn’t intended this when I came to paint, but there it was, staring back at me as though I had spent hours sketching it. I reached for my palette knife and began scooping the primary colors onto the canvas.
The flower is fresh. She holds her flower wistfully, hopefully. Not a black and yellow daisy, though. Purple. A purple flower. How Shakespearean.
It fell upon a little western flower,
Before milk-white, now purple with love’s wound.
Yes. The flower that Cupid’s arrow hit in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. But who is she? Her hair is long and flows from beneath her veil. All five fingers are wrapped around the stem of her virtue which she holds aloft for all to see. The flower sculpted in purple bells. The purple reflected in the light against her hair. A barely suppressed smile plays about her lips. She is beautiful, but lets you discover it for yourself. Her clothes are rich. Royal. But the songs that surround her aren’t pompous. It’s a chorus of 60s and 70s love songs. ‘And they call it puppy love.’ ‘I think we’re alone now.’ ‘Just call me angel of the morning.’
I built the texture of her gown, elevating the paint in thicker coats over her breasts. Three-dimensional. Strokable. Kissable. Shadows play across the face, hiding her from me. Her crown a series of golden points gleaming with their own light. The globe that lights her shoulder is dark at the edges—a trefoil of lights clustered together. A handle for her scepter, her hand wrapped around it more firmly than the flower. The flower so close it touches her lips. Not enough detail in the thick globs of paint to see into her dark eyes, but the light reflected hints at limitless depths. There’s no doubt now as I smooth a blend and enhance the curve.
The Queen of Clubs. Filled with hope. Hope.
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