Sweetheart by Peter McGehee

Author:Peter McGehee [McGehee, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Gay Men, Humor, AIDS, Toronto, Canada, Arkansas
Publisher: ReQueered Tales
Published: 1992-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

In the center of the lobby is an enormous butter sculpture, which Sparky has commissioned, featuring a gigantic lobster, Doll’s favorite food, with the words happy birthday etched on its tail.

The entire family (excluding Tula, who has remained in her armchair, and Betty and Peppy, who are simply “absent”) lines a path leading from the lobby up the grand staircase to the mezzanine.

Sparky pulls up in front of the hotel in his rented Cadillac. My father, masquerading as a doorman, opens the front passenger door. My mother steps out. Dad salutes. “Hail, great sanctimonious one!”

“What are you doin’ here?” she asks, horrified.

“Workin’, ever heard of it?” He grins maniacally.

“Oh!” she growls. “You just have to ruin everything we try to do right, don’t you?”

“I’m on a mission,” he informs her.

Sparky hops out of the car, thrusts a two-dollar tip into Dad’s hand, and rushes around to open the door for my sister. But Dad beats him to it, pulling a magician’s flower bouquet from his coat sleeve and presenting it to his daughter.

Doll is so moved by the gesture that she bursts into tears. “Why, thank you, Daddy. Thank you!”

Doll has on a red-and-black patterned dress accessorized with a string of pearls, a jade necklace, and a large opal brooch pinned to her bosom. Her hair has been blow-dried into a monstrous haystack held in place by several clusters of hair ornaments. On her fingers are at least a dozen rings. On her wrists, infinite bracelets. And to top it all, thrown over her shoulders is a floor-length emerald green cape.

“Doesn’t she look gorgeous?” says Mom, squeezing Sparky’s arm as they join the family lineup.

“Yeah,” David whispers, “like she just stepped off the trading floor of ‘Let’s Make a Deal.’”

With tears of joy cascading down her cheeks, and the sweetest, most sincere smile upon her face, Doll makes her entrance.

Sparky glances up at the mezzanine to cue Hart Border to start playing “Thank Heaven for Little Girls.”

My father, still outside, has his nose pressed to the window and is watching the procession with great interest.

Doll glides across the lobby to the staircase. Rotten Dog and Little Cookie try to trip her, but Doll deftly stays afoot, ascending to the mezzanine in perfect time to the music.

Mom follows on Sparky’s arm. Then David and I. Then Norm and Barbie. Then R.D. and L.C. Then Aunt Lorna and Uncle Ron. Then Aunt Eunice and Doc. Then Aunt Carol and Uncle Will. And finally, Uncle Markus and Jesus Las Vegas.

Doll reaches the top of the staircase, approaches Tula’s armchair, and bows. Tula, who seems completely confused by the whole thing, quotes a short passage from Li’l Abner, then waves her away.

Sparky takes Doll by the hand and leads her onto the dance floor for the opening waltz. The rest of us stand around the perimeter, and after the final note has been played, applaud politely.

“Oh, thank you, Sparky,” says Doll, still in tears. “That was just beautiful!”

“Doll,” says my mother. “Why don’t you come on over to the table and take a look at your stack of presents?”

“Oh, no!” squeals Doll.

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