Unforgettable night
Short Fiction: Unforgettable Reunion brings unexpected empathy in a chance encounter
This is Part 2 in a short four-part fictional series Wedding Bells, sharing the celebration of marriage between Paul Buckley and Tracey Jenson.
By Vince Wetzel
Copyright Vince Wetzel and OT Press
Rob had organized several bachelor parties in his life. There was the double bachelor party he organized so many years ago and became memorable for several reasons. There was his buddy Monty, who only wanted to play cornhole and drink beer all day. And there was one he threw for Chris, his brother-in-law, who wanted to blow it out in Vegas.
Partying in Sin City was easily his least favorite. Although he lived and worked in Reno, Rob wasn’t a fan of what Nevada had to offer. As a private investigator, he saw the effects of easy access to excess and the effects it had on society. And Vegas made Reno look like Utah.
Thankfully, Paul wanted something simple: dinner, great tickets for the Sacramento Kings game, then staying the night in a posh suite at the Sawyer Hotel. Fortunately, another of his best friends David, MIHO to these friends, was the general manager at the Sawyer and secured the suite. Paul, a local sportscaster, used his connections to get tickets in the lower bowl of the arena. All Rob had to do was procure dinner.
He managed to get a table at one of Paul’s favorite restaurants, Frank Fat’s, a downtown political institution. Famous for its honey walnut prawns and banana cream pie, Paul swore by Frank Fats upscale Chinese Food fare. With the game starting at 7 p.m., Rob made the reservation for 5 p.m., plenty of time for them to enjoy several courses family style before walking the two blocks to the arena.
When they walked into the Presidential Suite at the Sawyer, Rob was awestruck by the best hotel room in Sacramento. He stepped to the floor-to-glass window and opened the slider that led to the wraparound balcony overlooking the arena and Sacramento skyline.
“Friggin’ eh MIHO,” Rob said. “Who did you sleep with to get this space.”
“The manager,” David said, who was the manager.
“That joke only plays only the first five times you tell it,” Paul said.
“I’m just happy we were able to use it,” David said. “We had that social media star Vic Taylor stay with us a couple of months ago and I thought this suite would be destroyed and out of commission. But Taylor ended up partying it up down the road.”
Rob had his own run-in with Vic Taylor in Lake Tahoe last month, one that had him incorporating some spy craft to get past Taylor’s layers of security. Rob stepped onto the balcony where the cool late October breeze hit him. “This ain’t bad. Sure beats the campsite we had for Jim and Jesse’s bachelor party.”
“That was 20 years ago,” Jesse said. “MIHO liked it though. At least the first part.”
David waved them off. Rob remembered that night quite well. It was the night David was outed, Jim was tempted, and a transition of their relationship from horny kids to lifelong friends. Now, they were back together; David, Paul, Jesse and Tracey’s brother Kyle. But instead of Jim, who passed seven years ago, there was Will, Jim’s 15-year-old son and now Paul’s future stepson. Yeah, that added a weird dynamic and for a while, the relationship between Paul and Will was a bit awkward. But recently, they seemed to patch things up and were in a better place.
“Why don’t we just eat here?” Kyle said. As Tracey’s brother, Kyle was the outsider of the group. He didn’t make much of a positive impression during the bachelor party in the mountains, but he softened his edges and now traveled more than all of them as a best-selling author and motivational speaker. Rob shook his head. If only his fans knew what an asshole that guy was in his 20s. But he thought again – weren’t they all?
“Because I want to eat at Frank Fat’s and toast the future… and the past,” Paul nodded over at Will, acknowledgement of Jim, Rob deduced. “Then, I want to watch the Kings, and come back up here for cards.”
Rob was glad Paul was definitive. He made special arrangements with the restaurant for a private room upstairs. Inside, the room was decorated with pictures of Paul as a kid with a bowl cut and a Vuarnet neon pink t-shirt, one with him at the University of Michigan, one in the snow covering high school football for some local station in Duluth, a few marking his time at ESPN, etc. There were also lots of pics the friends took over countless trips to the lake. Rob came a day early and arranged everything with the restaurant.
“We’ll leave it to the best man,” Paul said. He brought Will close to him and put his arm around the scrawny boy’s shoulders.
“Going out would be fun,” Will said passively.
“There ya go. The boy wants to party,” Rob said. “It’s settled. We’re going to Fats. When’s the reservation?”
“Five,” I said.
“Well shit, we should get going then,” Jesse said. “Can’t miss the Senior Specials. What’s on the menu? Only soup? Jello? Do they split the meal in half so we can save it and have it for dinner tomorrow?”
“Shut it dumbass,” Rob said. “Or else you won’t get to taste any of the dee-licious banana cream pie.”
They all laughed at the nearly 30-year-old inside joke they came up with on one of those trips from years ago. With little time between dinner and the game, they put on their Kings black, gray, and purple. Paul went a step further with a throwback Chris Webber jersey over a long-sleeved black T-shirt.
As they walked the four blocks to Frank Fats, Rob felt a pang of nostalgia for his friend Jim. He would enjoy hanging out tonight, even though they would be celebrating his widow marrying his best friend. They all seemed to be happy and that’s all Jim ever wanted. And to see Will growing into a young man also made Rob smile. As they crossed Seventh Street toward K Street, their group was so engrossed in conversation about the Kings season, Rob practically tripped over man sitting on the sidewalk.
“Hey, can you spare some change? I just want to get some food,” the man said. He wore an oversized sweatshirt. His pants were torn at the cuff and his grungy black sneakers had no laces.
Rob hated these situations. He wished he could help, but homelessness was getting so bad that the only way to protect himself from the heartbreak was to be indifferen and he tried swatting away his guilt with the same hapless attention as they patted their pockets.
“Sorry, don’t have any cash sir,” Rob said, trying to move past the man as quickly as possible. Paul was three steps past the man before stopping and turning back. Will noticed and also turned.
“Hey man, what’s your name?” Paul said. The rest of the group heard Paul’s voice and stopped.
“Thomas,” the man said. He Inched back a bit, intimidated by five men and a teen boy staring at him. “Man, I want no trouble. I’m just hungry. Anything you can do to help.”
David came up, pulled out his wallet to find some tender that he had denied he had only moments earlier. Kyle and Jesse also pulled out their wallets.
“We’re not going to hurt you brother,” Paul said, before turning to Rob. “You say we got a private room upstairs at Fats?”
Rob nodded before anyone understood the implications of the question.
“Would you like to have dinner with us? Ever had Frank Fats?”
The man looked at the group, his eyebrows raised, but his eyes narrow. He was more guarded than ever, like this was one elaborate prank that would lead to some sort of humiliation. Rob thought this wasn’t the first time the man had been put in this situation with unfavorable outcomes.
“it’s ok. All on the level Thomas,” Paul said. “We’re celebrating my bachelor party. And I’d lke for you to join us for a good meal.”
Rob and the other guys looked at Paul with disbelief. Was this safe? Would the restaurant even let them in? Each of them wondered if another would raise the issue with Paul, but no one did. And one look at Will, and Rob understood what was happening.
This is what Jim would have done – or at least what their oversized mythical version of him would have done. And maybe because of the situation that led Paul to marry Jim’s widow, or the way Paul was an asshole for much of his life, Paul felt an obligation to set an example for Will in a way Jim thought would be appropriate.
Paul offered his hand and pulled Thomas up off the ground. Thankfully, Thomas didn’t have anything with him, and was able to join their party. As they got to Fats, Rob and Paul went inside to check in, leaving Thomas with David, Jesse, Kyle and Will. They didn’t want the restaurant to turn them away until Paul threw around his local celebrity and requested an extra seat.
“What are you doing Paul?” Rob asked, pulling him aside as they waited for the host. “Do we even know that guy?”
“It will be fine,” Paul said. “He needs a little kindness. That’s it.”
“Yeah, a $20 to buy his next bottle of liquor or score, not to join us for your bachelor party.”
“That’s exactly the reason why we need to do this. We could all use some empathy and compassion. A handout isn’t going to cut it.” Paul looked over at Will before turning back to Rob. “As his stepdad, this type of stuff is my job now. You know me. I’ve had plenty of time to be selfish. If I’m going to raise Jim’s kid, I need to step up.”
Frank Fats couldn’t deny the local celebrity sportscaster from KARC Paul Buckley. Of course they could honor his request for an extra seat. After all, they booked their own private room at the restaurant and it was only 5 p.m. Still, the host did get visibly queasy at the first sight of Thomas and more judgmental and discerning eyes followed Thomas up the steps.
Once seated, everyone’s attention turned to Thomas, who looked like he could grab the knife off the table and defend himself at a moment’s notice. Paul ordered for the group – New York Steak, Pork Fried Rice, Won Ton Soup, Wok-Fried Spareribs, Imperial Chow Mein, the honey walnut prawns, and Brandy Fried Chicken. There was enough food for all of them and more, but they feasted with Thomas.
As he took in all of the vibrant flavors that wasn’t accessible to him, Thomas told everyone his life story, sometimes contradicting himself. In one version, he was a product of a failed foster care system and fell through the cracks. In another, he was a veteran with PTSD. Rob was sure that Thomas was sharing what he felt they wanted to hear. Through it all, Paul listened with rapt attention. There was a reason Paul was a good reporter. While he saw through the Thomas’s inaccuracies, his interest was genuine.
As they shared Fat’s famous banana cream pie, Rob surveyed the damage. There would be leftovers, but he was sure they would leave them with Thomas to either savor for himself or share with friends as proof the night was not imagined.
“Thomas, it’s been a pleasure, but we have taken enough of your time,” Paul said. They all stood and armed Thomas with the fancy to-go bag branded Frank Fats. “We thank you for your company tonight.”
Thomas bent over and held onto the back of the chair, light sobs coming from him.
“You okay?” David said, putting a hand on that grubby black sweatshirt.
Thomas waved him off, before standing. His eyes were red, and his cheeks glistened with tears.
“I’m fine. I’m just… I just… Thank you.”
Whether it was true or not, over soup, Thomas informed them he had a spot under a bridge in midtown. And he ventured to Loaves and Fishes for services and food a couple of days a week.
“Thomas, how about this?” Paul said. “I’m going to be at Loaves and Fishes next Thursday. I’ll be looking for you. I want you to share a bit more about you, ok? No bullshit. And we can see what we can do together to get you on your feet. Sound good?”
Thomas nodded. He looked like he had been awarded a major prize. First thing he’d need was dental care, Rob thought. As they parted outside the restaurant, there was a joy in his step that wasn’t there on the walk over.
“What the hell was that Paul?” Jesse asked. “I mean, I get it. Help a human. But really? Are you really going to help him?”
“I don’t know,” Paul said. “But I knew I had to set a specific time, as much for me as for him. Now, I can’t just walk away and ignore. And if he’s there, I’ll help. If he’s not, I’m sure there is someone else or another way. I don’t know. I needed to do this.”
Rob looked across all the friends he’d known for decades. They were in disbelief, except for one. Will had a look of pride.
The story of Jesse, Paul, Jim, Rob, and David are told in my first novel Friends in Low Places (2021). They also appeared in my first Substack fiction The Hot Shot
Side of Mustard
Thanks to all for your birthday wishes last week. One week into 50, and things aren’t too bad. After all, the Olympics are on, the weather was cooler, and last night I spent the night in a lovely hotel in San Francisco. What else could I guy want?
I also received notice on another review on GoodReads. While most suggest not to read the reviews, an indie author loves them as they don’t come in that often. Thankfully, they’ve been very positive, including this one:
* * * * *
This book started good and only got better. Several storylines crossing paths and entwined and all converging in an early autumn day in Oakland. It kept me on the edge of my seat!
Available on Bookshop.org, Amazon, Apple Books, and more.
Six People Struggling With Expectations.
One Baseball Game to Find Their Moment.
It's The Final Game of the Season...
All Star Brett Austen has a chance to secure the first .400 batting average for a season in more than 80 years. But increasing pressure and his own hubris threaten the apex of his career.
Meanwhile...
A sideline reporter wrestles with a choice between career and her mom in crisis.
A retiring usher takes in his final game before moving in with his son's family.
A lanky 15 year old can't understand his future stepdad while pining for a girl from school.
A lemonade vendor agonizes over a big score to settle gambling debts and fulfill his daughter's dreams.
An adult daughter navigates uncomfortable family dynamics at home while her father lies in hospice.
Beautiful coda Vince.
Four perspectives. One event. Interesting idea!