Chapter 101
“So where is this bar?” said Ron
Celeste said, “It’s right on Washington Avenue.”
It was a bar like that the hundred that Ron had been in with his father when Harry used to take him to work. It was long and dark with some filtered light that gave it a sullen feel. Ron wondered if bars did that on purpose like having no clocks in a casino caused you to forget about how much time you had spent there. Was the bar designed to make you feel sullen so that you drank more?
Bottles was a stocky guy with black curly hair and dark framed glasses. He saw Ron and came over to shake his hand. “Let’s go in the other room for a few minutes,” he said. Bottles motioned to the other bartender and jerked his thumb and then led Ron around a wall. There was another full bar there but if was very dark and almost empty. Sitting at the bar alone was Gregory Lumus, Celeste’s first husband and Bottles best friend.
Ron felt a moment of discomfort and scanned for exits. There were none other than the one that he had just walked through. OK, so here he was in this fairly isolated place with two men who might wish to do him harm. He felt his body tense a little. Bottles walked in back of the bar and refilled Greg’s glass with bourbon. “Can I get you anything, Ronnie?’
Ron felt back in Newark. “Just some water.” He didn’t want to tell them that he didn’t really drink. Gregory hadn’t looked up from his glass.
Bottles said, “Greg, this is Ronnie Tuck. He’s going to marry Celeste.”
Without looking at him, Lumus said, “Good fucking luck with that.” Then he laughed to himself and turned to face Ron. “So, you’re going to marry her now, huh?”
“Yeah,” said Ron.
“What’s that make you, number three?”
Ron ignored the barb. “She’s told me a lot about you.”
“Yeah,” said Gregory. “What did she say?”
“That you were exciting and talented. That you went to Europe together.”
“She tell you that she walked out on me without a word? Without any explanation?”
“Yeah,” said Ron. “She did.” Ron didn’t tell him that she left him because of his refusal to get a job, his endless drunken nights passed on the floor, and the generally chaotic life that he wanted to live.
Gregory went back to his drink and stared into the smoky mirror in back of the bar. All three men lit a cigarette. Bottles looked a little uneasy but then said, “So you want me to just order what would be standard for a wedding, or did you have something else that you needed?”
“I’d better leave that up to you.”
“Celeste said that you knew a guy who we could hire to tend bar?”
Greg Lumus reached for the bottle of bourbon and poured another two fingers worth into his glass. Ron still wasn’t taking his eyes off of him but was watching with peripheral vision so as not to appear to be staring.
“Yeah,” said Bottles with a gravelly voice. “I got somebody.”
Lumus said, “She’s not getting you to do it, huh?”
Bottles laughed, “I’m a guest.”
Lumus downed the bourbon. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
He walked away without saying anything to Ron.
Bottles looked relieved. He said, “Greg is alright.”
“Yeah,” said Ron. “He seems really nice.”
They both laughed.
When he got home, Ron called Celeste. “So I saw Bottles and we got the alcohol thing straightened out.”
“That’s good,” said Celeste.
“I also met Gregory Lumus.”
Celeste began to choke. She had been drinking a cup of coffee and was mid swallow when he said it. She could feel it coming out of her nose now. Ron was laughing.
Then he said, “Are you Ok?”
It took her another minute to stop choking. “Yes,” she managed to squeak as she fought for air. “What happened?”
“He wished me luck,” said Ron.
“He did?” Celeste sounded incredulous.
“Sort of,” said Ron. “What he actually said was good fucking luck with that.”
“That sounds more like him. Was he drunk?”
“On his way,” said Ron.
“Sure, Friday night. Let’s see he’ll get fairly plastered, sleep for a couple of hours, and then do some serious drinking.”
“Every Friday?”
“You can set your watch by it,” said Celeste.
“He asked if I knew that you left him without a word.”
“What did you say?”
“I said yeah.”
“It sounds like it was tense.”
“More it was just awkward after I figured out that they weren’t going to jack me up.”
“Were you worried about that?”
“It crossed my mind. That was just me. There wasn’t anything like that.”
Celeste smiled.
Ron said, “George had the invitations printed for us.”
“How do they look?”
“I haven’t seen them yet. I’ll stop by their house and pick them up on the way up to see you. I’ll get the list from my mom.”
“Ok, want to do them tonight?”
“Sure,” said Ron.
Marjorie was waiting for him. She showed him the invitations. Ron smiled up at George and said, “Thank you. They’re really beautiful.” They were printed in a script that Celeste and Ron liked and they were on a creamily white, fine paper that would accent her wedding dress. Ron looked at them again and smiled. “They’re really great George, thank you.”
George said, “I printed up enough thank you notes to last forever.”
The genuine kindness of the act touched Ron in a place that he never believed that he could ever be touched by George. Marjorie handed him the list. “It’s larger than what we expected.”
“We agreed on 100 people,” said Ron.
“This will only bring it to about 125 and these people are important.”
“Why?” said Ron.
George got up and left the table. He went into the living room and turned on the TV.
“I want to invite Rocky,” said Marjorie.
The cold gaze that came over Ron was almost frightening. “No.”
He knew that his mother still talked to Rocky on the telephone. For all he knew they may have met again. He hadn’t expected her to ask for this and his reaction was visceral.
“He was important in your life.”
“Pretty much the way that the bubonic plague was important to Shakespeare.”
“Don’t be a bastard, Ronald.”
“Mom, I can’t. I still hate him and I don’t want anyone that I hate there that day.”
“What about your father’s boss?”
“He was always good to me. If he wants to come, I want him there.”
“George’s family wants to be there.”
Ron felt a little stunned. He looked down at the invitations. “That would be nice.”
“What about your Uncle Mike’s family?”
Ron thought about his Aunt Dottie and her sister Anita who had married Uncle Mike. He wasn’t sure why they would want to be there. His uncle had died. “OK,” he said. He loved the Yankees because of his Uncle Mike. He’d ignored his uncle. Ron had the feeling that this would be a rerun of his life. He had very few vetoes and he’d already used the biggest one.
Chapter 102
They moved to Glen Ridge in early summer. Richie helped them with the move. The sense of space was shocking. There was a backyard without gravel and glass and in back of it was a football field that was ringed by a track. When they shook hands Ron said, “I not losing touch with Newark.”
Richie shook his friend’s hand warmly. “You will. Everybody who moves away does.”
“Not me,” said Ron. “I know where I come from.”
“You still want to play football?”
“Yes,” said Ron.
“Is your knee better?”
“Sometimes, but I can’t run the way that I used to.”
“I could always beat you in a race,” said Richie.
“You always did,” said Ron.
It was goodbye to Newark and Ron’s friends and everything that he understood. He wouldn’t miss Jersey Catholic, but right now he missed Newark very much.
His first walks were explorations that were filled with wonder. What struck him first was that there were no smells. You didn’t get that whiff of diesel when a bus rumbled its engine. The aroma of what your neighbors were cooking didn’t waft out to you as you passed their windows. The houses were set too far back from the street for any of that. The lawns were manicured and the wonder of flowers was everywhere. Ron had only seen flowers in a vase or when he visited Rocky’s sister who had rose bushes. These flowers bloomed everywhere and instead of diesel and cooking aromas he sniffed their scent.
Some streets were wide and some were narrow but they were all quiet. A dog’s bark rang out like a siren but without its implications. Instead of streetlights, there were gaslights that glowed but did not really illuminate.
When Ron realized that he could walk to his father’s house, he felt his heart beginning to race. It was a couple of miles but he could do it and wanted more than anything to be able to walk over and see him.
Newark was a bus ride away and when he took it back there everything felt strange. He could feel it on his skin and he wondered if it had always been there.
When Harry Tuck found out that Ron had been in the hospital he was shocked. It came in a phone call from Marjorie.
“I thought that you might want to know what is going on in your son’s life, since you seem to take no interest at all in it.”
“Don’t start with me, Margie. What’s going on with him?”
“He’s been in the hospital, not that you would care.”
“Why was he in the hospital?”
Marjorie’s voice was anguished. “Harry, he lost control and was shaking and twitching and the doctor wanted to send him to a psychologist and said that he has an ulcer from stress.”
“Jesus Christ! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because he said that he didn’t want you to worry about him and that when you weren’t so busy that you would call. So I waited and you didn’t.”
Harry wiped his hand over his face. “How is he now?”
“He seems better. I don’t know. I know that he misses you and would rather die than bother you.”
“I’ll stop by tonight.”
“We don’t live there anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
The surprise in Harry’s voice caused a broad grin on her face.
“We have a house in Glen Ridge,” she said with a swelling pride.
End of Part 3
Chapter 103
The day before the wedding Ron picked up the boxes of alcohol from Bottles and drove them up to the Women’s Club. He was met by the caretaker, an older Black man, tall with gray hair. His name was Roy Miller and Ron called him Mr. Miller.
“There had to be some changes,” said Mr. Miller.
“What kind of changes?”
“Your guest list grew. We had to put in more tables and take away the dance floor.”
“Oh that’s not so good,” said Ron. “Is there anything that we can do about that?”
“Well,” said Mr. Miller, “if I move the bridal table to the other side of the room and we open the curtains and put it on the stage, there should be enough room.”
“Then let’s do that.”
“Just move the bridal table to the stage and leave everything else the same?”
“Sure,” said Ron, “that will be the easiest way.”
Roy Miller smiled his fake, fuck you smile. “Whatever way you’d like to do it.”
If Celeste and Ron had hired him to co-ordinate the event, as had been suggested, he would be looking out for their interests. But they had turned him down and said that they had it under control, so now he was just there to tend to the Club.
Ron loaded in the liquor while Mr. Miller watched. He liked the feel of the club and the room. He thought Marjorie would be happy with it too. “Is there anything else that I should know, Mr. Miller?”
Roy Miller smiled. “Not that I can think of right now.”
“Great,” said Ron nervously.
Ron drove to Roger and Rita’s restaurant. Roger was a former English teacher that both Ron and Celeste knew through Quimpy. He had left the profession, which Ron thought was the best move that he could have made and opened a place with his wife. It was a small storefront that served French style food. Rita was a trained chef and did all the cooking. Roger ordered the food and acted as a host. They put out a great meal and when Ron and Celeste had gone to them with the idea that they cater the wedding, they’d were excited. It would be their first catering job and a nice way to expand the business.
Roger smiled and shook Ron’s hand. He looked so much happier and relaxed now that he didn’t have to face the pile of papers that had begun giving him hives by the end of his career teaching.
Ron said, “Are you all ready?”
“We’ve got it under control,” said Roger. “It’s going to be great.”
Ron smiled. “Is Rita back there?”
“Yeah,” said Roger. “Go say hello.”
Rita was a short, Scottish woman with black curly hair and a winning smile that always put Ron at ease. She grinned up from a pot of a white wine cream sauce. “Are you nervous?”
Ron grinned his best dimpled grin. “About everything but the food.”
Rita handed him a cream puff. Ron smiled and it was gone in two bites.
“I know that you’re busy,” said Ron. “I’m just trying to make sure that we have everything in place.”
“You’ve done all the planning. Now you just have to sit back, let everyone do their job, and marry Celeste.”
Ron broke into a wide automatic grin at the sound of her name.
“Will Angel be there?”
“Yes, we hired her favorite teacher to be her companion for the day.”
“That was a good idea. Do you have music?”
“We have a piano player.”
“That’s great. I hate this new thing of using a DJ. Live music is the best.”
Ron and Celeste had painstakingly created a set list for Pipes, a friend the next door neighbor, Jake Clifford had found for them. Jake told them that Pipes looked a little strange but that he played great piano and his nickname was earned by his really strong voice. When Ron asked what was strange about the way that he looked, Jake had told them that Pipes was a dwarf. Celeste and Ron thought that was both funny and appropriate.
“See you tomorrow,” said Ron.
Rita kissed his cheek and Ron felt the dampness that came from working in the hot kitchen. “You just relax and enjoy.”
Ron shook hands with Roger again. Rita put him at ease but Roger didn’t.
When Ron asked Chris Calvin to be his best man, he felt good about the choice. It was true that he knew Quimpy longer, but Quimpy had been more of an early teacher and always looked at Ron as a crazy fucked up kid that he enjoyed helping. Quimpy had also been one of Celeste’s boyfriends. That would have been too weird. But things between Ron and Chris weren’t the same. Chris was married now. He owned a house in the same town as his parents. His wife was obviously pregnant. Ron had the sense that both of their lives had changed immeasurably.
Ron drove back to his apartment. He’d stopped staying there. He spent each night with Celeste, in her basement room. The basement touched something primitive inside of him. He felt it from the first time that he’d seen it. In spite of all the objections of Celeste’s family, Angel was thriving in day care. She accepted the way that things were organized and her pathway to approval was so easy. Ron filled the pitcher at his kitchen sink. He walked around the debris that had come down from the ceiling, through his bedroom and into the place where he kept his desk and had bay windows and music and his plants. He stroked the leaves as he watered them.
He felt that he communicated with his plants through music and emotion, thought and touch. His fingers strokes the asparagus fern that he encouraged to grow and touch the other potted plants and who had rewarded him with white flowers that were beautiful and delicate. His olive tree looked healthy and was coming through the winter chill and lack of light in good shape. The jade plant was plump although there were small wrinkles in the plump leaves that called for light. The spider plant was prodigious.
Ron sat in the fan back chair and lit a joint. The room felt happy to see him. There had been so many hours in this room. For almost all of them he’d been alone. He’d learned to be fully alone here. When he moved in, Chris said, “I think you’re going to stay here for a long time and it’s going to be good.”
Chris had been right. He had stayed a long time and it had been good for him. It occurred to Ron that whenever he lived alone, he’d been forced out of the apartment eventually, like something was moving him. In Elizabeth, it had been a fire. Here it was a collapsing ceiling in his kitchen. Ron sucked on the joint and laughed. That wasn’t true. Now there was Celeste and Angel. That’s why he was no longer here.
He finished the joint, resisted the temptation to light another and turn on his music, laid out his tux, locked the door and drove down to spend the night with Chris.
Ron turned down the barely paved one block, dead end, one house street. The house was small but surrounded by an enormous amount of property. The light inside the screened in porch was on and Chris was sitting in a chair on the side of the round, iron table. The window to the screened in porch was open. Chris was wearing a light jacket. The lights were lit on the second floor. Music filtered out from the adjoining living room.
Chris poured Ron a glass of red wine. “I think that she’s really great.”
“I do too,” said Ron. “It’s just not something that you get to fuck up and say oh well, and then move on.”
Chris grinned. “Don’t think about fucking it up. It’s going to be great.”
Ron said, “I invited Laureen and April. They never responded.”
“That surprises you?”
“I suppose that it shouldn’t.”
Chris sipped at the wine and smiled his contagious grin. “Celeste responded though, right?”
Ron lit a cigarette and laughed softly to himself. “Yes, she did.”
“That’s all you need.” Chris shifted his position and said, “Look, you’re getting married. After that, it’s just a party, right?”
Ron felt that confident warmth that Chris always inspired and said, “You’re right.”
Chapter 104
The morning was cold like winter. Ron cradled a mug of coffee in his palms on the screened porch of Chris Calvin’s house. The light was just coming up and birds were singing. Ron thought that he has never lived in a place where birds singing was the dominant music of an early morning. The coffee felt warm. He was getting married. His mind was pulled like a magnet, not to his mother but to his Aunt Dottie.
Last Christmas eve, he and Celeste had eaten at her family’s house. It was the first time in his life that he’d done that. Marjorie was almost too wounded to speak. She accepted that he would be there on Christmas Day.
Ron sipped the coffee and felt the bite of the air. It was going to be cold today. That night Celeste heard that her Aunt Minn had no place to be. It was the first time that Ron had seen her stand up to her mother and father. It was a sight to behold. She gave in about everything except the things that truly mattered to her.
A transformation took place when those things were somehow insulted or disqualified or ignored. That metamorphosis exuded a certain power.
Celeste said, “I’m going to bring Aunt Minn here. I won’t eat here without here.”
Tina objected. “No, it’s supposed to be just us.”
Celeste moved in closely. She was taller than her younger sister. It wasn’t a growl, but it was tending in that direction. “I’m bringing our Aunt Minn to dinner.”
Tina frowned but the look in Celeste’s eyes withered her mother and her sister. Mario was annoyed and proud.
They got into the car and Celeste drove. She said, “My Aunt Minn loved me like no one else has ever cared for me. She was just always on my side and she’s old and I don’t know how much longer she has.”
Ron loved her more deeply in that instant than he had ever loved a woman. “Let’s get her.”
Ron cradled the cup in his palms and held it to his mouth. Aunt Minn had white hair and smooth powdered cheeks when he first saw her. She was wearing a shawl over a soft print dress. She kissed Celeste and stroked her face and Ron watched Celeste beam and know that she had felt a kind of warmth that he was yet to experience.
Aunt Minn lit up the table when they brought her back. Anna basked in the glow of the older sister who had really been more of a mother to her. Tina felt the warmth of her loving eyes. Mario gazed at her and thought about Tony, her late husband who had been so strong and so important and so rich.
Ron sipped his morning coffee and closed his eyes. Then
he opened them and looked down at his left pinky. The ring that Aunt Minn gave him was there. It was copper. She told him that he had kind eyes. She told him that the ring would protect him. She’d smiled at Celeste after she said that. It was a blessing.
Ron stretched his legs out and felt the cold of the day again. It was the end of March what about the out like a lamb nonsense.
Chapter 105
Celeste and Anna got dressed to go to the beauty parlor where Janine worked. She had done Celeste’s hair for each of the her other weddings but teasing Celeste about it in front of Anna only elicited a stony gaze that said she was in no mood to laugh. Being at your daughter’s first wedding was an honor. Having to attend the third was an embarrassment. She communicated to Celeste with her facial expressions and body language that she just wanted this to go smoothly and be over.
Janine waited until Anna was safely ensconced under the hair dryer to talk with her cousin. “She is in one hell of a snit.”
“I know,” said Celeste, “but there’s nothing that I can do about it.”
“She thinks that you are taking Angel away from her.”
“I’m not. Angel will still be there every day.”
“I know that and you know that.”
They both looked at Anna was sat plump and sullen, her chin tucked down against her chest and her eyes in a magazine that she wasn’t really reading.
“Do you think that I should try to explain that again today?”
They both laughed. Anna could not hear because of the dryer over her head but she sensed the laugh and looked over at them. The no nonsense gaze caused them both to act like naughty school girls who had been caught doing something wrong.
“She can’t hear us, can she?” said Celeste.
“No, but she has radar. She knows.”
They tried to stifle their giggles.
“Are you excited?”
“I’m ready to jump out of my skin.”
“Where did he spend last night?’
“At his best friend’s house.”
“He’s the best man?”
“Yes.”
“Doesn’t he have a brother?”
“A half-brother, but they aren’t that close.”
“You’re going to look beautiful.”
“I just hope that he thinks so.”
“He’d be an idiot not to,” said Janine.