I’m finally revisiting the characters from The River City Chronicles nine years after their original timeline. I’ll be running the series weekly here on my blog, and then will release it in book form at the end of the run. Hope you enjoy catching up with all your faves and all their new secrets!
Today, Sam comes back to Sacramento with his friend Oscar, and nothing is the same…
< Read Chapter 26 | Read Chapter 28 Pt 1 >
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Chapter Twenty-Seven
Back in Sac
The last of the rice fields disappeared behind them as the plane descended toward the tarmac. Sam held his breath, remembering the first time he’d made this trip from Tucson to Sacramento a decade before, to work in Brad’s office—for a Republican Senator, no less. Such a thing would be all but unthinkable now.
He’d landed in the River City, amazed at all the greenery—from the plane, the place looked like a forest, with not one but two great winding rivers meeting in a flux of churning waters not far from downtown.
“You okay?” In the next seat, Oscar’s dark eyes reflected concern.
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” How could anyone be okay, after they’d lost their heart mate? He’d been struggling at times just to remember to breathe.
“I’ll bet a lot has changed since you lived here.” Oscar scratched the dark hair of his neatly-trimmed beard thoughtfully.
Distraction. Good. “Yeah, probably. Brad and I left—” He closed his eyes at a stab of pain. “We left Sactown about eight years ago. I’m sure a lot of it is different now.” His mother had needed help, and Brad had seemed happy for a change of scene. Since then, there’d been that man in the White House, a pandemic, and now another election coming.
There was a slight bump, then another, and they were gliding smoothly along the runway toward the distant terminal.
“Thank you for flying Southwest. You may now turn on your personal electrical devices.” The gay flight attendant sounded inordinately cheerful. Sam smothered his urge to get up and smack him.
He pulled his iPhone out and powered it up, waiting impatiently for the home screen to appear. Ten seconds later, Carmelina’s message popped up.
Waiting in the remote lot. Let me know when you touch down, darlin’. 🙂
He smiled despite himself. The one thing he was looking forward to was seeing his Ragazzi Club friends again.
When the plane rolled to a stop at the gate, he jumped up and opened the overhead compartment, pulling down the duffel bag that held the urn with Brad’s ashes. We’re here, handsome.
#
Forty-five minutes later, they were waiting by the curb when Carmelina pulled up in her silver Honda Pilot. The take-no-prisoners red-head popped out of the car and practically ran to embrace him. “Well, look what we have here. It’s about damned time.” She hugged him. “I’m so sorry about Brad.”
Sam hugged her back and then let her go. “Carmelina, this is my friend Oscar, the one I told you about on the phone.”
Oscar bobbed his head. “Nice to meet you.” His big hand dwarfed Carmelina’s, and she was not a small woman.
“Come here.” She pulled him in for a hug too. “Any friend of Sam’s is a friend of mine.”
Poor Oscar’s eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as she squeezed him tightly.
“Helllp meee.”
Sam chuckled, and immediately felt bad for letting a cheerful emotion ruin his grieving. How long until it’s all right to feel happiness again? “You get used to it. Cara mia, can I throw our bags in the trunk?”
“Of course. Just push the crap back there around.” She opened the back door and gestured for Oscar to climb inside.
Sam lifted the hatch and stared at the revealed chaos in dismay. There were half a dozen empty Trader Joe’s bags shoved up against the back seat. Three umbrellas in various shades of pink—one of them busted up pretty badly—held the middle ground, nestled between two unopened Amazon boxes. And at the front was a haphazardly-folded Sac State Hornets sweatshirt, a pair of paint-stained jeans, two pairs of muddy sneakers, and—randomly—a well-thumbed copy of Eat, Pray, Love.
Sam moved as much of it as he could to the sides and back of the gray-carpeted space, and managed to wedge their two suitcases in between in a fragile détente.
He kept the duffle in his hands and closed the hatch, and went to climb into the back seat with Oscar.
Carmelina pinched him. “Come on, sit up front with me. We’ll have half an hour to do a little catch up before we get home. Oscar, do you mind?”
His friend shook his head. “I’ve got emails to check for work.”
They got in the car and Carmelina shot him an inquisitive look.
“Oscar’s trying to open a new LGBTQ+ center in Tucson. Wingspan closed in 2015, and the Thornhill-Lopez Center closed during the pandemic.” He’d first met Oscar through Brad, who had been helping out with his experience from running the Sacramento LGBT Center. The thought of Brad brought back his crushing grief. He bit his lip and stared out the passenger window, trying to keep a lid on it.
“Ah.” She started the car, and soon they were zooming their way through the airport’s confusing collection of winding roads. Carmelina took them as a personal challenge, whizzing around other cars like a racecar driver. “Is that… him?” She glanced at the duffle bag in his lap.
Sam rested a hand on the cool curve on the steel urn inside. “Yes. It’s so strange. I wasn’t… he shouldn’t have…” Tears welled up in his eyes and he wiped them away angrily. I’ve cried enough.
She reached over and squeezed his shoulder.
“Watch out!” An RV had just pulled in front of him, going half their speed.
“I’ve got it.” She jerked the car to the left, missing the behemoth’s bumper by five inches.
Sam closed his eyes and breathed in and out slowly to calm his racing heart.
Soon they were flying around the cloverleaf onramp and merging into southbound traffic on Highway 5. The skyscrapers of Sacramento’s downtown appeared on the horizon like giant tombstones. Geez, I’m in a mood.
“So Sam and I were talking about what might have changed since he lived here.” Oscar’s cheerful voice broke the silence.
Sam was grateful for the interruption.
“Well, let’s see.” Carmelina crossed a couple lanes without a signal, heading for the Highway 50 interchange. “Fifty’s a mess. They’ve been widening it for what seems like decades, and they split each direction into two parts for a couple miles just east of downtown.” She shot over another lane, and someone behind them honked. “Oh go fuck yourself.”
Despite himself, despite his grief, Sam laughed out loud, all the while hanging onto the handle above the door.
Oscar was glancing nervously out the back window. “Aren’t you worried they might have a gun?”
“Not here in Sacramento.” She waved away the concern. “Oh, and the A’s are coming here.”
“For a game?” Sam was proud of the fact that he knew the A’s were a baseball team. Aren’t they?
“No, for a few years. They’re moving up to Vegas, but they didn’t start on their stadium yet, so they’ll be playing at Raley Field… I mean, Sutter Health Park.”
Sam groaned. “Do corporations have to plaster their names over everything?”
“Yup. The convention center’s now the SAFE Credit Union Convention Center, and the Music Circus Theater is now the UC Davis Health Pavillion. Hell, I’d let them call my house the Bank of America Certificate of Deposit Estate if they paid me a couple million dollars.”
Oscar chortled.
Sam looked down as she passed a semi and cut in front of it hard. “I was hoping to go to Lucca one night while we’re here. They have the best gnocchi. The manager’s gay, and the dining patio is amazing—”
“Closed during the pandemic.” She scurried around the long curving connector to Highway 50, slamming on the breaks when another car cut her off. “Nice driving!”
“Okay, then, Café Vinoteca. They have great Italian food—”
“Closed by a fire.” They shot back onto the highway, and Carmelina cut across four lanes to the fast lane, driving like she was Mario Andretti.
Sam held on for dear life, praying to whomever might be listening that they would make it safely to her house. When he caught his breath, he tried again. “How about Roxy? Their stuffed bell peppers—”
“Nope. Shut down a couple years ago.”
“Biba’s? The chef is this wonderful Italian woman, and she stops by your table—”
“She passed away before the pandemic. Alzheimer’s, I think. The restaurant didn’t last much after her death.” They crossed three lanes again and swerved onto the connector with Northbound Business 80.
Sam closed his eyes and tried to convince his stomach to stay in his gut. He texted Oscar. We’ll take an uber back to the airport when we leave.
His friend snorted.
“So what is still open?” There had to be something he remembered.
“Let’s see. Zocalo—there are four of them now, including one near the house. Ben still works at the one downtown. There’s Café Bernardo and Paragary’s… though Randy Paragary passed away about three years back. Mayahuel, Trattoria Bohemia, Zinfandel Grill… there are a few of the old faves still in business.”
Sam fell silent. So much had changed. So many of his favorite places were gone.
They finally slipped off the freeway, and were soon gliding down H Street under the shade of its many lovely trees—redwoods, elms, oaks, box elders, pines—planted like guardians on both sides of the street. This part of town hadn’t changed. The essential character of Sacramento remained.
“How about Ragazzi?” He had fond memories of his time with Brad there, and their friends.
Carmelina smiled. “It’s doing better than ever. Gio wants to franchise it, but Diego keeps putting him off.” Now that they were off the freeway, she seemed to have reverted to normal driver mode.
“Gio?” Oscar’s eyebrow arched.
“Different one.” To Carmelina, he explained, “We have a friend named Gio back in Tucson, too.”
“Ah. He’s a good kid. He’s coming to Rome with us tomorrow. I think Diego just wants to get him out of his hair for a bit.”
“Kid? He’s gotta be…” He frowned.
“Twenty-six. And yes, that’s still a kid to me. Even though I’m still just twenty-nine.” She batted her eyes.
“For the seventeenth time?”
She snorted. “Hey, watch it. You’re into your thirties now, aren’t you?”
“Maybe.”
At last, they entered River Park. As they drove up Carlson, he noticed a few changes—a new mini-apartment building. A garden mural on one of the school’s walls. But mostly things looked the same here too. “Is that red-headed crossing guard still here?”
“Shelley?” Carmelina frowned. “No, we lost her to cancer during the pandemic. She was a beautiful soul.”
So much loss. Still, it felt good to be back in his adopted hometown.
He squeezed the duffle bag tightly. Brad, we’re coming home.
< Read Chapter 26 | Read Chapter 28 Pt 1 >
Like what you read? if you haven’t tried it yet, check out book one, The River City Chronicles, here.