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FOUR
Mario had just finished the laundry, changed the sheets, vacuumed the entire house, and was about to set off grocery shopping when Mason called him from his cell phone: Mason needed to have the dry cleaning picked up, along with a large framed painting from the art gallery. Mario was fuming; he was not angry but was beginning to realize that Mason did not view their relationship in the same way as did Mario.
And why would he? Mason had seen the world, had spent a career in New York City, had retired to this palatial beach home in Malibu, had fabulous friends from all over the world, and was set for life. Mario was a law student, an immigrant from Argentina, nearly twenty years younger than Mason, and was now working as Mason's houseboy, whatever that meant.
In Mason's mind it must have meant something entirely different than in Mario's mind; starting with the apartment which Mario was supposed to occupy, above the garage, to the menial housekeeping chores such as cleaning and laundry, it was clear that Mario was an employee, but then that was confused with the frequent sex, the travel, the gifts, the parties and the clothing and shopping.
Mario decided it was time to have `the talk'. He needed to clear the air with Mason, or at least confirm what he was in Mason's mind.
Seated at dinner in a very capacious window-filled and airy seafood restaurant in Malibu, with candles and wine, Mason thanked Mario for asking him to dinner, and was curious why Mario had decided it was time to have dinner like this.
"Actually, Mason, there is something I want to discuss with you. I am confused by you. And that in itself is strange because you are one of the great communicators of our time, a journalist, a man who easily explains the world to other people, and yet, I have these mixed feelings and mixed signals from you."
"Such as?" Mason asked.
"Such as, while some of the time I feel like an employee, other times I feel that we have a relationship, like boyfriends sort of, I guess, and so I am confused as to where I stand, or where or what you want me to be in your life."
Mason was silent for a long moment; when he began speaking he looked into Mario's eyes and was very direct.
"As you know, I was partnered for nearly twenty years, and when Bob died I thought that was the end of my life, but I have discovered, with the help of a lot of friends and some therapy, that I have a lot of life yet to experience. Maybe it's time to see if I can be any good at another relationship. What do you think about the possibility of us being together?"
"Mason, darling, we are already together."
"Yes, I realize that, but I meant..."
"I know what you meant; I am only teasing you..."
Mason raised his wine glass and said "Well, then to us!"
Mario was stunned, and slowly raised his own wine glass, and slowly lowered it as well. Mason looked concerned.
"What's wrong?"
"Well, nothing really, I was just wondering if I have rushed you into this against your will, or if..."
"Nonsense. Let's go home and sleep on this."
Mason really meant fuck like bunnies. And they did. Mason bent Mario over the end of the bed and entered him and pounded his ass, and then they switched positions, and Mario did the same to Mason, and then they collapsed on the bed and repeated the motions and the positions and fell asleep well past midnight.
When Mario awoke at the usual hour, he was shocked to find Mason in the kitchen fixing coffee and toast; it was the usual regimen for Mario to be serving breakfast. This was going to take some getting used to for Mario. And then besides, there was law school to consider. This was going to take a lot of thinking and planning and a lot of consideration.
"Mason, I am sorry to rush off but I have to go to the law school today for a bit to make some arrangements; I will be back after lunch."
"Not a problem, see you later. Take your time; maybe we can meet in town for dinner?"
"Sure, call me."
Mason was suddenly relieved when the door closed and Mario was gone for the day; "What have I gotten into?" he wondered to himself. A boyfriend at this stage?
They had dinner at the Beverly Wilshire hotel on the patio; Mason saw several professional friends who all came by the table and greeted him warmly. He introduced his new boyfriend as simply "Mario", without embellishment. Mario was confused.
Late that night, falling into bed without much conversation, Mario drifted off to sleep and fitful dreams; Mason did not really sleep. Breakfast the next morning was strained, as they had not yet adjusted to anything and were at an impasse as to how to talk to each other in a new way.
Mario began with "I am sorry; obviously I did not understand that you were not ready for this kind of arrangement."
"No, please do not apologize, it's just that I may need a way to think about this and so can we talk? Do you have time today?"
"I can make the time, because I want this to work, and I do not want to lose you, either as a lover or a friend. Yes, please, let's talk."
Mason clearly relaxed for the first time in about 24 hours; "OK, let's do breakfast out, some greasy truck-stop café, and then let's start over. Deal?"
"Deal."
Breakfast was simply breakfast, it was not analysis or talk or therapy or working on the relationship. It was almost completely silent. At the end of breakfast, they were both breathing much easier and actually holding hands as they went to the car. They drove to Topanga Canyon and then up and over the mountains, going nowhere special, and found themselves at the Topanga Canyon Gallery. Wandering through the gallery for more than a half hour, Mario and Mason had been separated for a few minutes when Mario came to find Mason and said "Let's get out of here." Mason was relieved.
They drove back home where Mario made a spectacular lunch of lobster salad, and they sat on the far side of the pool and ate and chatted and drank wine, relaxing for the first time. "I really like you, Mason, I have always liked you, and I want to explore all of you and find out everything about you and learn to love you and learn to fall in love more each day and find a way to make you happy for the rest of our lives."
Mason put down his wine glass and sighed; "That's a tall order, love, and I wonder if either of us is up to that task?"
"What do you mean?"
"Love is hard work; it is another side of the relationship, and so many people miss-use that word. I am not sure I know what it means, but you know all of the things you were doing for me before, taking care of the house, taking care of me, and so forth, as an employee, now we both will be doing those things together but they still have to be done, and sometimes, even when we are tired or bored or cranky or restless or angry, those things still have to be done. Thank god we do not have children and diapers to change."
Mario laughed. "I am sure, darling, that we can figure it out." Mason sighed again. Maybe this challenge was going to be fun after all.
Mario asked, "Tell me about Bob please?"
Mason was suddenly anxious; how to explain the man whom he had lost, the man whom Mason had always believed was the one true love of his life, and yet the most mysterious man he had ever met. Bob Timmons was a spy, worked for several of the national security agencies including the CIA, had spent a great deal of time away from home on assignments, and never shared any of his professional life with Mason. He may as well have been a roommate instead of a lover; Mason never really knew the entire Bob. When Mason showed up in Kansas with the urn of ashes to give to Bob's family, what remained of it, he realized once again how much he did not know.
"Why don't you tell me all about your family?" Mason asked. Mario squinted into the sunlight and sighed.
"Typical highbrow upper-class family from Buenos Aires, they think they are The Great Gatsby, full of expectations and neuroses and class consciousness and haughty assumptions about people. They are wonderful to me, always have been but they are full of themselves; it lingers from the royalty from the old country."
"Spain?"
"Naturally, and Italy, they have blood lines that are part of the nobility in both countries. It makes them feel superior to the rest of the world."
"Very nice, I suppose" Mason muttered.
"Not really, it was painful most of the time, I was not allowed to be just a kid, I had to please the family all of the time and make sure I did nothing that would reflect badly upon them, and so of course when I wanted to come out of the closet it was nearly the death of me. They would not allow it and so when I told them I was going to Estados Unidos they were greatly relieved."
"So," Mason continued, "what would you say is your ideal man? Describe him to me."
"Mason, really, it is you. You have all the things I think are important in a man, you are intelligent and mature, and a very kind man, which are all important to me."
Mason pressed on: "What about our ages?"
Mario answered immediately: "It really does not matter to me; you are in very good shape, and unless there is some secret medical condition you have never revealed to me, I think we will be together a very long time."
Mason sighed, turning to look directly into the eyes of his new lover. "I sure hope so, love."
Mario stood, and leaned toward Mason, and kissed him fully and deeply. "I want to learn to love you and make you very happy and never see you sad one single day; promise me you will give me a chance?"
Mason responded with another kiss, and then he said "Let's have a few friends over to celebrate."
They agreed to have a cocktail party and invite the world, and Mason phoned their favorite Thai restaurant to cater. By the time Friday evening arrived, both were more than slightly nervous; about an hour before the party was to begin, Mario said "I need a drink" and Mason laughed. He poured them both a Scotch, which Mario hardly ever drank, and they looked at each other and laughed again. Mario grabbed his lover and kissed him ardently, took his hand and guided him toward the pool and the large yard leading to the beach.
"Let's have the wedding here" he whispered to Mason; Mason did not speak but merely shook his head in the affirmative and turned and kissed Mario once again.
By midnight, as the last guests were leaving, both Mario and Mason were exhausted, and had answered a million questions from their friends, all of whom congratulated them both and exclaimed they had known forever that these two were going to get married and were just waiting for them to realize it as well.
By Sunday morning, Mario had rearranged the closets in Mason's room, and had moved all of his own belongings from the apartment over the garage. By late Sunday, several more friends who had been out of town had heard the news and Mason was answering calls from across the globe.
Mario said "You know, I guess I better phone my parents."
He sat on the side of the bed and explained in Spanish to the two most influential people in his life that he was getting married and expected them to attend the ceremony in Los Angeles, but a date had not been set as yet, perhaps sometime next year. He sighed deeply when he was finished and had closed the cell phone.
"Trouble?" Mason asked.
"Of course, but they were polite enough, or I should say nervous enough, that they did not ask your name. They still have time to fantasize about me marrying a woman."
"You are kidding! Seriously?"
"It's done all of the time in Latin America; men will marry for the right' reasons, and then continue their true life and personality despite the inconvenience of a marriage, although usually with an amante'."
"What's that?"
"A mistress."
Mario stood and took Mason's head in his hands and kissed him lightly on both cheeks and then fully on his lips and said "Mason darling speaking of amante, what will happen to our sex parties?"
"Well they will stop of course." Mason looked confused.
"Darling I am not demanding that they stop, I am just wondering if we continue to have sex parties will it invite any trouble into our marriage? What if we continue to have a few good friends over for sex, but we always play together and never cheat on each other outside of this bedroom?"
"I think we can work that out" Mason replied.
By the middle of the week, Mario had settled into a new schedule at law school, they had figured out a division of the household chores, and Mason was called by his former boss in New York City to come and participate in a public forum on the influence of media on politics and culture. "I will only be gone three days" he explained to Mario, and by Thursday morning early was whisked off to the airport by a limo.
Mario was suddenly hit by an unexpected emotion: his lover was going out of town for a few days and he was already missing Mason before the car had left the driveway. This was new: he had never felt like this before, and this would require another adjustment, as if there weren't enough already in his life.
Mason returned on Sunday night, exhausted, and eager to see his new lover. They settled into bed without unpacking his suitcase, content to merely hold each other and kiss.
Within another month, they had a fair idea of what to expect from each other, and Mason had lost a lot of his paternal instinct for asking to be waited on by Mario. Mario, on the other hand, was still unconsciously tending to and waiting on Mason and enjoying it.
At breakfast, Mason announced that he was returning to work at the magazine; he was going to be writing a weekly blog and could work from home. Mario was delighted that Mason had something to keep him busy, as Mason tended to get bored easily and whenever Mason was bored he spent hours driving around LA. With law school finals looming in a few weeks, Mario was nervous about the tests as well as the coming bar exam in another month.
They decided to have the wedding ceremony the same week as the law school graduation, to accommodate Mario's family who were flying in from South America as well as Europe. Mason spent three days on the phone with a wedding planner, and when everything was finally ready, he explained the arrangements to Mario: a simple ceremony in the backyard on the edge of the beach, with family and close friends, followed by a light supper at sunset. The remaining question was whether to invite a minister to perform the ceremony.
"Since I do not belong to a church, you will need to choose a minister" Mario explained to Mason. They decided to invite the minister of the Malibu Buddhist church to perform the ceremony, although it would require some explaining to Mario's family.
It suddenly occurred to Mario that Mason had never mentioned his own family; "Is your family going to be attending?" he asked.
Mason said he only had a sister still living, the rest of them had all passed on, and he had already spoken with his sister and she was delighted to come with her son. Her husband had been dead for several years; she was almost ten years older than Mason. "Stuart is a USC grad" Mason added.
"Your nephew?"
"Yes, and you can look but don't touch."
"What does that mean?"
"Well he looks exactly like me when I was his age" Mason laughed.
Mario kissed Mason quickly and flashed him a charming smile; "I am sure it will be damn near impossible to keep my hands off of him then" Mario laughed.
"Well, I also suspect he is gay" Mason added.
"What? How do you know?"
"Twenty-seven years old and devilishly handsome and never had a girlfriend that I have heard about" Mason explained.
"Hmmmm" Mario laughed.