Hugo
December 26, 1995

"Ican see the snow machine worked."

I was trying to be nice, but, frankly, Andrew and Eric were gazing intoeach other's eyes so sweetly and with so much affection, I thought I wasgoing to throw up.

"Just call us the First Couple of West Hollywood!" said Andrew.

"It was the best Christmas of our life together," offered Eric.

"So far," added Andrew.

"I was worried, " I said. "You know gay men. First fight,last fight."

"Not us," said Andrew, taking Eric's hand. "I was hurt, butit didn't last long."

Eric went red, awkwardly moving their clasped hands under the table, whereno one could see.

*****

I noticed when he bought his mocha and went to sit down by the windowthat he was carrying a different book. It wasn't a paperback, the smallspine cracked and flaking like the copy of "The Great Santini"he'd been holding a couple of days back. He was reading a hard cover bookthis time, a thick one, and it looked as if the jacket had been coveredwith that plastic wrap that libraries use.

Marty, who I usually have to tell twice to do anything, was actually bussingthe tables this afternoon. He was working at the tables in the corner wherethe young man was reading.

"I'll get these, Marty."

"That's okay," he said. "I already took a break."

"Take another one."

"I'm not going to argue with you about it." He picked up the binand headed for the kitchen.

"That's a first," I mumbled, snagging the rag from the bin beforehe got too far away from me.

I wiped a table, pushing pastry crumbs into my hand, and turned towhere the handsome bookworm was sitting.

"You're fast. The second book in as many days."

He stopped reading and closed the book on a finger.

"I never really introduced myself to you," I said, extending ahand. "I'm Hugo, the owner."

"Steve," he said.