Page 13 of A Straight Line

“Got the name.”

“Exactly,” He said. “I could never seriously consider a dalliance with my best friends’ nephew, of course.”

“Of course.” I laughed.

“Now,” He asked, “what is that bitch Simon doing here before us? Picking at the food?”

“He’s tried,” I said. “So far, we’ve kept him in check, though. It’s a four-man operation. He’s pretty slick for a feisty old queer.”

Felix guffawed as we entered the kitchen, drawing all eyes to us. Harry’s eyes darted over from his place keeping court around the island. When his gaze caught sight of Felix’s arm draped through mine, he rolled his eyes. Uncle Vic merely smiled at the arrival of the last of the Flirts, obviously concerned that the ringleader had not arrived with the group. Now that I had delivered Felix, the core group of elder gays was together. If Bang Bang was ever at a party on time, the entire group would be together in one place.

The nine guys in the kitchen, and Bang Bang, were the core group of elder gays because they were all of the men still alive who had been at A Straight Line on opening night. Whether it was intended or not, that moment in time, the solidarity shown between the gay men on the opening night of a gay bar in bumfuck Iowa had created friendships that had lasted, quite literally, a lifetime. Sure, there had been others who had been part of the group—once upon a time—but they were no longer with us. What was once twenty or thirty guys was now ten. Next-generation gays were replacing the faces you’d see nightly at the bar.

Harry and Vic—and the elder gays—enjoyed seeing younger men around, but they missed the old group. I guess that’s one of the side effects of getting older. Your friends start dying.

“I see you didn’t bother wearing one of the flag colors.” Felix slithered his arm from mine to jab his fists into his hips and admonish Simon.

“What?” Simon perked up.

“A Hawaiian shirt, Si? Really?” Felix shook his head. “At least Phil was queer enough to wear a primary color.”

It was true. Simon had arrived in a Hawaiian shirt, and Phil had shown up in a purple shirt—like he had obviously been instructed to do by Harry. Simon never followed the crowd. I suspected that he wanted to stick out in any pictures that showed up on social media. Even older gay men can dream of being Insta-Famous one day, right?

“It’s a summer party,” Simon stated defensively. “It’s perfectly acceptable for—”

“He doesn’t like blending in.” One of the other Flirtatious Five snorted, though I hadn’t been quick enough to catch which one it had been.

“Queen.” Another voice made my head whip around again.

“Princess at best.” Someone quipped, and my head did another spin.

Then the bickering began. I turned to Felix.

“Good job.” I teased him as everyone around us began arguing. “You better hope the caterer has everything under control and doesn’t need any help because Harry will never get you all focused for long.”

Felix snickered.

“Look,” He reached into his shirt breast pocket and withdrew a slip of paper, “tell my grandson to make sure at least one of these songs gets played every hour. I don’t want to hear Britney and Madonna the entire night.”

I took the folded slip of paper from him with a frown.

“Your grandson?” I asked.

“I spread my seed far and wide in my younger years, Russy.”

“Gross, Felix.”

He cackled.

“He’s out there at the DJ booth.” He explained. “He’s helping out tonight.”

“That’s nice of him,” I responded neutrally.

“Yes, yes.” He waved me off. “Just make sure he knows to play some of those songs. And tell Denny that if he doesn’t, well, my foot doesn’t work as well as it should, but it will still manage to find his ass. Comprenez-vous?”

“Got it.”

Felix pulled away from me and entered the fray around the island. Once more into the breach! So, I turned on my heels and ignored the sound of nine elder gays bickering with each other about who had or hadn’t worn the right shirt. Hand delivering a list of songs to someone seemed like a much easier task than trying to corral the men in the kitchen. It would be nearly impossible to make any of them focus on the few last-minute things that needed to be done for the party, so finding Denny was a task I would gladly complete.