Page 78 of Everything We Thought Was True
“No, silly. Although that would be pretty funny, actually. Your grandpa and I came here to sample the menu a few months ago, and they let us taste a few kinds of cake. We chose the chocolate ganache one.”
“Well, duh,” she said, eyebrows raised. “Because chocolate is the best.”
“You’re right about that, my girl,” I said, holding up my champagne flute in a toast.
“Hey, speaking of sneaking...” She looked around quickly. “Can I have a sip?” She nodded at my prosecco.
“Sure. It’s a special occasion, isn’t it? Have at it. But just a sip.” I handed her my glass and watched her take a gulp.
She smiled, licking her lips. “I like the bubbles,” she said, giggling.
Ella got up to take her seat as they were serving the wedding cake. I looked down at my plate and admired the chocolate concoction. I took my first bite. Melt-in-your-mouth delicious.
I looked around and saw Henry with his hand on my dad’s shoulder, leaning in, the two of them laughing. Henry was still so darn handsome, just like my father. They had aged well. I remembered what they’d looked like when I was a kid and thought about what a striking couple they must have made. That caught me by surprise. Over the years, when I thought of my dad and Henry, it had always been with a hint of anger and shame, linked to my dad’s betrayal of my mother. But Henry and my dad were so much more than the scene that the little-girl version of me had witnessed on the boat. They’d been friends for over forty years, even after their inauspicious beginning. I let that really soak in. Not many people had a taboo affair, broke up, and then didn’t just remain cordial but became lifelong best friends. It really was extraordinary.
Henry caught me watching him and smiled. He walked over and sat down in the vacant seat next to me. “Hey, Lena. Thought I’d say hello for a sec.” He looked around and smiled. “Beautiful place. Fabulous wedding. You did a great job. Your father is so happy.”
“Thanks. He is happy.” I added, “And he’s so glad you came.”
“Of course I came. It’s a big deal. A milestone. And I’ve been there for them all—good and bad. The worst was the heartache of losing friends to AIDS.” He stopped and shook his head. “Then he met Oliver. Thank goodness.” He looked over at my dad, who was saying hello to friends at a nearby table, an arm around Oliver’s waist, pulling him close. “He deserves some happiness.”
It was jarring to hear Henry mention my dad losing friends to AIDS. It brought me back to a dark Broadway theater in 1996, when I’d been visiting New York after being out in California for a year. I was attempting to spend more time with my dad,so I’d accepted an invitation to see a Broadway musical with him, Henry, and their friends.
“Remember when we went to seeRent?” I asked.
“Oh yeah, I remember that. What a show. Beautiful but heartbreaking. I remember your dad having a hard time after. He said, ‘I finally come out, and that’s the exact time in history when this insidious disease comes along to wipe us out?’ It almost felt like bad karma to him. You know, he always had that Catholic guilt going on about being gay. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being punished or something.”
“That’s so sad. I don’t think he ever really told me that.” I thought back to conversations I’d had with my dad over the years.
“I know he tells you a lot. He trusts you. But he’s also tried to spare you, you know?” Care showed in Henry’s eyes.
“What are you two talking about over here?” My dad grinned and put his arm around Henry and me from behind.
“Heavy stuff, actually,” Henry said. “We were talking about when we went to seeRenton Broadway. Remember that? And that got me thinking of friends we lost to AIDS.”
“Ah,” my dad said, nodding. “Yes, there are some friends who should be here today.” He stared intently at one spot as if he could see their ghosts right beside him. Then he looked at me. “And you know what? I was with them both in the hospital when they died. One was my friend Luke, only twenty-eight years old. A baby. His body swelled up like a balloon. He suffered so much.” His eyes flooded with tears, like puddles of water. “My other friend, Matteas, was older but still only forty-three. His family wouldn’t come to the hospital to see him when he was dying. Those motherfuckers left him there alone. So I went. I held his hand as he took his last breath. I’ll never forget it.” He swiped at his eyes.
“Sorry, Frank. Enough of this downer talk. Let’s toast.” Henry grabbed the nearest glass of wine, probably Kevin’s discarded one, and held it up. “To friends who couldn’t be here with us today.”
“Salute,” my dad said, grabbing a water glass to join in the toast.
“I’ll drink to that,” I said, tapping their glasses with my prosecco.
That night in 1996, watchingRent, I hadn’t entirely understood the brave choice my father and his friends had made in coming out. I’d mostly thought of the impact my father’s choice had on my mother, Anthony, and me. But now I could move that to the side, like opening a curtain to peer through the window. And what I witnessed on the other side was my dad’s struggle.
Oliver and Anthony walked over to join us. “Hey, do I see another toast happening? What’re we drinking to?”
“We were toasting my friends who are no longer with us—Luke and Matteas—and wishing they were here,” my dad said.
“Cheers to that,” Anthony said, and Oliver lifted his glass too.
“Ooh, I have an idea!” My dad ran over to the DJ, whispered something in his ear, then came back and grabbed Oliver’s hand. “Come on,” he said, gesturing for the rest of us to follow. “Let’s dance. This was one of their favorite songs. I love it!”
I heard the first few notes of the disco song “Don’t Leave Me This Way,” by Thelma Houston. My dad hit the dance floor, snapping his fingers and moving his hips, singing along to the words, with Oliver by his side, swaying to the beat. Anthony, Henry, and I joined them. The next thing I knew, everyone was flooding the dance floor, losing themselves to the music and the moment.
FINALE
Chapter Forty-Five
