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chapter TWELVE
The following Friday at noon, an entourage descended on the quiet home on the beach. The former governor, together with the other panel members, Raj and his two assistants from the Mayor's office, all settled into the comfort of the great room and began discussing the panel and its purpose and its goals and timelines. By 2 PM, they had agreed to an agenda, a deadline for each agenda item, individual assignments for the goals and the reports needed to accompany them and the final focus of the panel and its recommendations to the Mayor and city council.
Mason was very surprised they had steered away from the egotistical atmosphere that was possible in these high-level groups; he was also flattered that the governor patted him on the back and thanked him for great leadership. Mason was looking forward to the next monthly meeting, which would be held at the governor's house in Beverly Hills. Apparently being the former governor of the Golden State has certain perquisites.
One of those perks is not anonymity; as the entourage was departing Mason's home, the inevitable paparazzi were snapping photos from across the highway. Within minutes, Tad and his surfer roommates had descended on Mason and were asking a million questions. They were pretty disappointed with the mundane response, when they found out that no movies were being made and no Hollywood drama was afoot. Tad was quite sure he would not even be able to read Mason's final report when it came out at the end of the summer.
Of course the next day on the first page of the business section of every major newspaper in Southern California, the paparazzi photos showed the governor shaking hands with Mason on his front doorstep. The final nail in the coffin of his anonymity, Mason thought when he saw the newspaper.
The phone ringing brought more bad news: it was one of the neighbors complaining about having this sort of publicity in the neighborhood, which might actually be a violation of the homeowner's association by-laws. "Sue me" Mason snarled.
When Mario came home from shopping, Mason was under a full head of steam over the neighbor's call and asked his own private lawyer for advice.
"I am not up on property law but I can have Tommy talk with you if you think it is going to get serious" Mario offered. "I really would not worry about it until you see them do something. I am not saying to dismiss it out of hand, just be prepared. This is California, amor, and all kinds of crazy lives here and thrives here."
Carlos was sad that he had missed the governor and the paparazzi, but Mason assured him they had not seen the last of this panel and its trappings. "They will be coming back in three months" Mason informed him. "When the paparazzi come back I will ask them to take photos of you surfing." Carlos cringed.
"One thing I do suggest, love, to be serious, is that you hire a publicist. You can benefit from some professional advice, and although you were in the media for many years, well what am I saying, you still are, but anyway the point is you never actually had to deal with the business from this angle. I bet Raj knows some people" Mario volunteered.
"Good idea." Mason was perplexed; he had never used a publicist and was not sure what they did except send out useless press announcements. He decided to follow Mario's advice, which had never been misguided, and called Raj's private cell phone number even though it was the weekend.
After hearing Mason's complaint, Raj was very calming and assured him that the Mayor was glad that the publicity was occurring; "We need that kind of exposure; because of the upcoming budget hearings with the City Council your work on the panel is going to be pivotal to the budget getting passed without a lot of major in-fighting" Raj explained.
"So then that makes me feel like a pawn" Mason complained anew.
"I am sure you might have taken it that way but please accept my assurance that such was never the intent of the Mayor. What we are doing through the panel was legislated by the State. You are the best person for the job, believe me, and there were a number of others who were nominated, but the Mayor insisted that we bring you on board especially after your father-in-law made his recommendation."
Mason calmed down slightly. "I apologize, I did not want to sound like a cry-baby, I just never expected any of this." He then went on to explain Mario's suggestion about hiring a publicist, and Raj said he had someone in mind, a professional who worked in Studio City among executives rather than in Hollywood among celebrities. Mason thanked him and wrote down the name and number; he then invited Raj over for drinks and was reminded that as a practicing Hindu, Raj did not drink, but he would be happy to drop by on Sunday early afternoon to visit.
"Is Stuart going to be there?" Raj asked.
His voice almost sounded innocent, but Mason had been around the block enough times to recognize a longing when it occurred; "I will invite him, of course" he told Raj.
Stuart was happy to accept an invitation for Sunday brunch, and promised to bring the cinnamon rolls from his favorite Beverly Hills bakery; he asked who would be invited.
"Well it is kind of a working lunch, nothing serious, just a few ideas we are throwing around, so Raj is going to be here, along with Ross and Joaquin. Bring your overnight bag just in case."
"In case what Uncle?"
"In case I get you drunk and you have to spend the night."
Stuart laughed. "Sometimes you are so transparent; I love it."
Over supper that night, the first one they held on the patio since winter, Mason and Mario began discussing their annual projects. Mason always hired a professional cleaning crew to perform the spring cleaning, making sure the gutters had been power-cleaned, the air conditioning ventilation flues had been vacuumed out, and the carpets had been steam cleaned and the hardwood floors buffed and polished and the grounds completely re-vitalized for the warm weather. The Forsythia, the camellias, and the azaleas were already in bloom, along with the California magnolias. The Japanese Maples had tons of new green leaves, and the Japanese red pines were covered in pollen as were the eucalyptus; the dunes were covered in heavy new sea grasses.
Additionally, Mason wanted to consider painting the house; he asked Mario if it was time for a new color scheme for the interior. Mario then launched into that famous old Mormon joke: "Beige" Mario chuckled.
They both doubled over laughing, and Mason made a note to ask Joaquin tomorrow at brunch what he thought about the idea, and if he knew any designers who could come over and give them some advice.
Finally, Mason said, he wanted Mario to come up with ideas for a major vacation trip. Mario was assigned to decide where they would visit and when, and then make all of the arrangements. Preferably, it would be something and someplace they had not yet experienced.
As Mason was fixing brunch in the morning, Mario suggested Machu Pichu; Mason had flown over it a half-dozen times but had never been on the ground to touch and feel the ancient Inca ruins. They felt that fall would be the best time to go, considering the South American weather and their professional schedules. They asked Carlos if he would mind house-sitting for them, and he was at first wistful but agreed.
Ross and Joaquin were the first to arrive for brunch, with Raj immediately after them. Raj looked around anxiously to see if Stuart had arrived; he was clearly disappointed when he noticed he was still absent. Carlos took a croissant stuffed with scrambled eggs and bacon and headed down to the beach; Mason was grateful to have a potential drama curtailed. Carlos can be a handful when he is full of himself, Mason remembered.
The smell of cinnamon rolls preceded Stuart's entry into the patio; Raj was on his feet to help him and shake hands with him before anyone else. Coffee, rolls, eggs, bacon, fruit, and four juices and mimosas and Bloody Mary's and Bellini's later, Raj and all the friends got down to business. First they discussed the publicity issue; then they discussed the house painting issue; finally they discussed the vacation question.
Mason did not want to put all of these things in front of his friends for a vote, but the overwhelming sense of the group was:
A–hire a publicist; B-hire a designer; C-go to Machu Pichu. He felt out-gunned. He laughed generously, and kissing Mario, said "Looks like you won."
Mario laughed as well, and said "Babe I am just trying to take care of you."
By the anniversary of Mason's car accident and of their wedding, the house was truly in chaos: painters and their equipment were in every room, coming and going almost every day. Mason had to retreat to a seaside coffee shop-bookstore combination to get any peace from the noise while the house was being re-designed. In the process of selecting a designer and choosing paint colors, Mason and Mario ended up also adding a wing to the house, pushing out the kitchen-breakfast room-dining room wing to accommodate another guest room and bathroom. The project would take at least six months, and Mason was grumpy. Mario wanted to laugh but did not dare; this was serious stuff, watching Mason's pride and joy being subjected to hammers and saws.
The extension of the kitchen wing required an extension of the patio and pool deck as well, to accommodate serving guests for any outdoor parties. In the process, Mason added a full pantry to the outdoor kitchen that was already in place, which encumbered the pool area. He gave up pretending to be patient about it and just sat by the pool and sulked for at least a full month. For that, Mario did laugh at him.
"And remember you get no additional alcohol for this" Mario told him; Mason just looked at him woefully.
"At least I am getting a lot of exercise out of this" Mason said, acknowledging his long walks away from the house along the beach.
Thankfully, the patio extension was done in time for the next meeting of the distinguished panel, and Mason was able to provide reasonable hospitality to his guests. The Governor was impressed with the work and asked to have a tour, which cheered Mason up a great deal.
"My cabin in Sun Valley, Idaho went through a complete remodel last year" the Governor said; he told Mason what a traumatic experience that was.
"So what did you do?" Mason asked.
"We went to Switzerland" was the reply.
Mason laughed. Mario would kill him if Mason abandoned this project.
When the panel left that afternoon, the paparazzi were all along the highway on the far side with their cameras, as were Tad and the surfers. Carlos had a mysterious sore throat that day and had stayed home from college, saying he had plenty of homework to do so that he needed to be at home studying. The Governor was very cordial in meeting Carlos and encouraged him by saying "A lot of us have immigrated to California and made out OK. Be strong" when he was told Carlos' story.
The Sunday newspapers had more photos provided by the paparazzi, this time with Carlos shown shaking hands with the governor. Monday the inevitable phone calls began, but one surprised Mason; it was the oldest and most highly regarded home and garden magazine on the west coast. They wanted to know if they could catalog the remodeling project and feature it in a future issue.
"You know, truthfully, that would violate every one of my personal rules about staying out of the public eye, but I guess by this time I am pretty much up to my own eyeballs in publicity, so if we can work it out, sure, come on over." He had to laugh at himself. What a stodgy Old Fag. Mario would kill him.
Late into the spring and well past the anniversary of their wedding day, Mason had prepared a simple Friday night supper for the two of them, not expecting Carlos to be at home and not expecting any company. For the first time in many weeks they were alone. Mason gazed at Mario over the patio table, and asked "Do you have any idea how much I love you, or why?"
"Yes, and no. I realize you love me more than I have ever been loved by anyone, including my family, but I am still confused as to why you fell in love with me. I am just a poor little South American refugee."
"Well ignoring that bald-faced lie, I do love you with my entire soul but here is the reason why. You rescued me. You `get' me. You understand me. You have accepted me with all of my faults and weirdness and temper tantrums and moods, warts and all."
"You are a handful !"
"Really?"
"No, amor, I love you for all of that and much more. Mason, you opened your home to me, you opened your heart to me, and you `get' me. You understand me, and you have accepted me with all of my faults and weirdness and temper tantrums and moods, warts and all."
Mason replied, "Mario, I was sitting here in my house- what used to be a beautiful house until we decided to remodel- wondering if I was going to spend the rest of my life alone, lying to myself that it did not matter, lying to myself that the parties and the friends were enough. But they were truly lies, and I knew that sooner or later I had to do something about it or face going back into therapy with Sue Cox. And then you came along."
Mason began to cry; soft fragile tears that coursed slowly along the edge of his eye, and then very delicately down his cheek bone. One single tear. Mario stood and took his husband in his arms and held him just as softly as the tear that stained his face.
"Never shed a tear for me, my love, no llores, I will always be here and I will always love you and I will always do my best to make you happy. It is you who rescued me."
They moved to the chaise, and Mason muttered "We have to replace the furniture now; they are going to clash with the remodel." Mario laughed.
Mason continued: "What has happened was completely unexpected; this thing with you has forced me to re-examine my own past, my history, and some of it was not very pretty, but it is the past and so I guess I have to reconcile it with what I think I am and with what I think I want to become. But because of you, the future, if not the past, has become all that much more beautiful."
They stayed on the chaise until sunset, not saying a word, just holding each other; some things need not be spoken.
Mario then whispered to his lover: "There is a song by one of the best composers in Latin America, Armando Manzanero. The song is titled ComoYo Te Amé. It means how I loved you'. It is a heart-breaking song, and I truly love it, and it expresses all of the things I feel about you when you ask me what you asked me tonight. I cannot imagine being loved any more or any better or any deeper than the way you have loved me."
Mario then held up his left hand and the waning sunlight glinted on his platinum wedding band; the two diamonds sparkled. "You see love, when you showed me this ring, I got it instantly. I understood what you were expressing. It did not need words, even though you have made a living with words. This ring" and he pointed to his ring finger with his right hand, "says everything I ever wanted you to say to me without any words. Two of us forever."
Mason shifted in Mario's embrace, and kissed him on the hand and then on the cheek and then on the lips. He whispered "'Being Alive'; Steven Sondheim." Mario smiled; this man was full of surprises, and he hoped someday he could uncover all of the many layers of Mason Taylor.