Father's Day,2005 #12
Summary:Sunday, June 19, 2005
It's Father's Day and Nick Williams is a little sore and a little hungover from attending Mayor Jerry Brown's wedding in Oakland the day before with his ex-fireman of a husband, Carter Jones.
At the age of 82, who wouldn't be?
They're having breakfast later that morning with the two kids who've become like sons over the past couple of years.
After that, it's lunch at the Top of the Mark with even more friends.
Nick is looking forward to another big day.
And, given the holiday, it's hardly surprising when more than one father shows up.
Bastille Day, 1957 #15
Summary:A Nick & Carter Holiday #15
Sunday, July 14, 1957
It's Bastille Day in France and Nick and Carter are hosting a party at their house overlooking the Mediterranean just outside of Nice.
They've flown in friends and family from San Francisco and Boston for the festivities and it's turning out to be a lovely evening.
Then, Carter gets pulled aside with the shocking news that a couple has crashed the party.
Who would pull such a high-handed and socially unacceptable stunt?
It turns out to be none other than the Duke and Duchess of Windsor.
What happens when the only man to have abdicated the throne meets the richest homosexual in the world?
Be sure to read Bastille Day, 1957 to find out!
Welcome to a year of holidays with Nick Williams and Carter Jones!
This is the fifteenth in a series of short stories and novellas all centered around specific holidays.
Each story is a vignette that stands on its own and takes place from the 1920s to 2008.
Mother's Day, 1978 #10
Summary:Sunday, May 12, 1978
It's 3 in the morning and Carter is dancing the night away at the Trocadero Transfer.
Nick, being his dutiful husband, is along for the ride.
Truth be told, Nick never wanted to rock around the clock back in the 50s and he certainly doesn't wanna get down and boogie, either. Whatever happened to dancing cheek-to-cheek?
So, while Carter wows the crowd with his shirtless gyrations, Nick chats with friends who stop by as he maintains his perch upstairs and keeps an eye on the show happening down on the dance floor.
As time drags on, however, Nick decides to have a seat and maybe rest his eyes for just a moment...
Before long, he's in Paris with his Uncle Paul and watching Josephine Baker do the Charleston.
This Mother's Day will be one Nick will remember for a long, long time.
Father's Day, 2005 #12
Original Review June 2022:
Another delightful short glimpse into the world of Nick and Carter. Nice to see them in their later years. Having only read some of the shorts in the author's Nick & Carter Holiday series I still don't know the couple's lifelong journey and I will say I felt like I was missing a few things in regard to the other characters spending Father's Day with the pair. Even with that feeling of missing I wasn't lost by any means.
It only seemed fitting that I found these wonderful stories this year, especially Father's Day, 2005 as Dad's Day 2022 also falls on June 19, perhaps fatherly fate is at work😉. There really is quite a bit packed into this short entry with lots of fatherly influence that will make you smile, a little sad briefly but in the end you'll walk away happy. I don't really see saying that as a spoiler because knowing the emotions of the ending in no way spoils the journey. Once again Frank W Butterfield's glimpse into Nick and Carter's life makes me bump his original Nick Williams Mystery series another notch on my TBR list.
Bastille Day, 1957 #15
Original Review July 2023:
As I've said with the other entries in Frank W Butterfield's Nick and Carter Holiday series, I have not read any of the other full length novel Nick & Carter stories but they creep closer and closer to the top of my TBR list. I mention it again because the only knowledge I have of the multitude of characters in the author's N&C universe is when they pop up in these short novellas so my familiarity is limited.
Those who are more familiar with this world will have a better understanding of Parnell and Leticia as to their positive and negative sides but I'll admit as far as Parnell goes I was surprised by the level of closeness between him and his son, Nick, or maybe I'm remembering things incorrectly from earlier shorts. Either way, it's lovely to see and certainly makes me want to find out more(so I'll know if my recall is playing tricks on me or not😉).
Truth is Bastille Day, 1957 is probably more of a Parnell & Leticia story as the bulk of it centers around unexpected drinks and convos with the Duke and Duchess of Windsor. Ever since watching Prince Charles and Lady Di's wedding when I was a mere 7 years old I have loved learning about the monarchy and will freely admit that I was taken in by the romance of Edward and Wallis but as I grew up and learned of his fascination with Hitler the rose colored glasses fell away. It was very interesting to see Parnell and Leticia navigate hospitality and courtesy with their true thoughts on the pair for the sake of Nick & Carter's special night. I don't know that I would have been able to do so😉.
Once again, Frank W Butterfield weaves fiction and history into a fun, thoughtful, and entertaining read with interesting characters, both fictious and real. The blending of reality and fiction to reveal a one-night event in the lives of Nick and Carter make Bastille Day, 1957 an enjoyable little gem.
Mother's Day, 1978 #10
Original Review May 2023:
Another holiday in the lives of Nick Williams and Carter Jones. I have not read all of the entries yet, though I am trying to read the ones I missed last year for their appropriate dates. Not sure how I missed Mother's Day, 1978 last year but somehow it went unnoticed when I was looking for mom stories.
Anywho. Thinking of the entries I have read, I would say Mother's Day, 1978 is one of the most heart-filled so far. I say "heart-filled" because I found it equally heartwarming and heartbreaking. While Carter enjoys himself on the dancefloor during their monthly date night at the Trocadero Transfer, Nick sits in the balcony above and finds himself dozing peacefully where he spends time with his Uncle Paul and others who pop up in his dream. There he finds perhaps a sense of closure but also wakes with an equal sense of clarity that he needs to address.
Perhaps I'm not making much sense but in trying not to give anything away I'm finding it a bit difficult to express the emotions Nick finds himself facing in both his dream and waking state. So maybe I'll simply say this: Frank W Butterfield brought tears of sadness and joy to my eyes with Mother's Day, 1978 and in doing so, I can't find a better way to express how amazing this short story is, it may just be my favorite Nick and Carter Holiday entry yet.
Father's Day, 2005 #12
1198 Sacramento Street
San Francisco, CA 94108
Sunday, June 19, 2005
7:04 a.m. PDT
"Boss?"
Nick opened his eyes and said, "Yeah?"
Carter sat down on the bed next to him. From what Nick could see, his husband was wearing nothing but a green pair of shorts and a loose t-shirt that was light blue. He'd obviously been working out at his gym below the pool that was located on the other side of the garden behind the house. With a smile, he said, "Rigo's gonna be getting you up here in a minute. Yesterday was a big day at the mayor's wedding with all the dancing and all the drinking. How're you feelin'?"
Nick licked his dry lips. "A little sore, I guess." He licked his lips again. "And a little hungover."
Carter laughed. "Well, I have one of my pick-me-ups right here if you want it."
Nick rolled his eyes. "How nasty is it?"
"Not too bad. There's fresh papaya in it."
Nick sighed. "Fine."
Carter reached his arm under Nick's back and, almost effortlessly, pulled him into an upright position. That was when Nick saw the glass of bright yellow liquid sitting on the table next to the bed with a glass straw sticking out of it. Carter grabbed it, held it up for Nick, and said, "Here you go."
Taking the glass, Nick had a tentative sip. He nodded. "Not bad. Kinda sweet, kinda grassy."
"Drink it all if you can. It'll put even more hair on your chest."
Nick took another sip and then asked, "What's on the agenda for today?"
"Bob and Mario will be here for breakfast at 9."
Nick nodded. "Good. What else?" He took another sip. The yellow goop wasn't half bad.
"Then, after some pool time, we're all going to lunch in the private room at the Top of the Mark. David and Ricky are joining us with Anita, who just turned 3, by the way, and David's parents."
"Tell me their names, again."
"His name is Dr. Peter Jansen. Her name is Marie Markham. He used to be a professor down at UC Santa Cruz and even taught Bob when he was there. She's the writer."
"Right," said Nick as he remembered the fact that he'd optioned her latest novel a couple of months ago to make it into a movie at some point. "Did you ever read her book?"
"I'm the one who suggested you buy the option, Nick."
Looking into his husband's emerald green eyes, Nick said, "Some days are better than others."
Carter grinned. "There's a lotta history rolling around in your head, son. I don't expect you to remember everything." He reached over and ran his hands through Nick's hair. "Besides, this isn't a sign of dementia. You've never remembered stuff like that. That's why you keep me around."
Nick snorted and handed the almost-empty glass back to Carter who put it on the table. "I keep you around, fireman, because you're the most handsome man on seven continents."
Carter leaned forward and kissed Nick on the lips. "Wanna know why I keep you around?"
Nick kissed him back. "Sure."
"It's that famous right hook of yours."
Chuckling, Nick said, "Why? Afraid I'd land one on you if you ever left me?"
It was Carter's turn to snort. "Hell, no, son. I keep you around so I can threaten folks. I tell 'em that, if they ever cross me, I'll send you out after 'em."
"That's ridiculous, Carter Jones."
"Really?"
"You haven't threatened anyone since you told Ronald Reagan to go to hell in 1986."
Carter looked a little forlorn as he nodded and sat up. "You're right about that, son."
Bastille Day, 1957 #15
27, chemin du Phare
Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat
France
Sunday, July 14, 1957
Early evening
Nick Williams was grinning as he and Antoine Descombes stood by the wall at the bottom of the lawn of his and Carter's house. Their backs were to the Mediterranean as they faced the pool and patio in the distance and the house beyond that.
Nick and Carter were hosting a small party for Bastille Day. They'd flown in friends and family from San Francisco and Boston. Everyone was gathered for a buffet dinner before the fireworks started above Monaco, a few miles to the east.
Somehow, Nick had misunderstood and had scheduled the get-together for the night of Bastille Day. So, it had been a big surprise the night before when the fireworks over Nice (to their west) had suddenly exploded while he and Carter were having dinner by the pool with the small group of friends who were staying at their house. Apparently, the city of Nice did their big show on the 13th.
Even though they'd been living in Nice the summer before, neither Nick nor Carter had remembered that the fireworks show, which was set off right in front of their hotel, the Beau Rivage, had been on the 13th in '56. And, in all the bustle and confusion connected to the preparations for the hotel's grand opening following more than a year of renovations, none of their staff had thought to mention anything about it.
Nick had been promised, however, that the fireworks display over the palace in Monaco would be just as dramatic. The view wouldn't be as good, but Nick figured no one would care too much.
Antoine continued with his story. "So, I say to him, 'Jacob, you must close your eyes in the catacombs. I will guide you'."
Antoine, who was French and just about as big as Carter, was talking about his lover, Jacob "Jake" Robinson, Nick's American attorney in France.
"And this was in a part that tourists never see?"
"Oui."
"How did you two get in there?"
Antoine gave a classic Gallic shrug. "I know many secrets of Paris."
Nick laughed. "I have no doubt about that." He shifted his weight on the grass. He really needed to get back over to the house and mingle some more, but he always loved hearing Antoine's stories. Nick felt like he was seeing the real Paris through the other man's eyes. "So, what happened next?"
Antoine put his hand over his head and ducked down a little. "The ceiling, you know, is small."
"Sure."
"And la lampe..." He frowned. "How you say?"
"Lamp?"
He shook his head. Using his hand, he pretended to be holding something that he was swinging back and forth. "For seeing in the dark?"
"Oh! Flashlight?"
He nodded. "Yes, this."
Right then, Nick saw Carter standing by the pool and waving.
Nick waved back.
Carter made a summoning motion with his hand and didn't look happy.
"No good, I think," said Antoine. "We go, no?"
"Yes," Nick replied as the two men strode over in that direction. As they walked, Nick could feel a knot forming in his stomach.
Mother's Day, 1978 #10
Trocadero Transfer
520 4th Street
San Francisco, CA 94107
Sunday, May 14, 1978
2:46 a.m.
"Nice to see you out, tonight, Nick."
I looked at the smiling man next to me and smiled back. The man's name was Dick Collier and he owned the place. He was a little shorter than me, with curly black hair, a Castro clone mustache, and bright blue eyes. He was wearing what looked like a red satin track suit. The top was unzipped, with no shirt underneath, and revealing a chest of black hair but not a lot.
"Looks like a nice crowd," I observed. We were standing at the railing overlooking the dance floor.
He nodded. "I think we've finally got that family feeling I always dreamed of."
"Definitely," I replied as I stifled a yawn.
"How's your father doing?"
I took a deep breath. "He's could be better, but he's hanging in there."
"I saw in Herb Caen that he left the hospital."
I chuckled. "More like they kicked him out last Monday. But he's at home. Our home. We set him up in our bedroom in the bed my grandfather built and there's a battle-axe of a nurse who's in charge of a small army catering to his every whim. He tries to be difficult, but she doesn't take any of his guff."
"Where are you and Carter sleeping?"
"On the third floor."
"Wish him well for me."
I smiled. "I will."
We looked at the dance floor for a moment before Dick asked, "Who are the studs Carter is dancing with?"
"Jerry is the blond. Bill is the brunet. They moved here back in January."
"Are they a couple?"
"Yeah. They met during Mardi Gras back in '75. Jerry just got out of the Navy."
"There he goes," said Dick, leaning over the railing to watch the next part of the floor show.
I laughed as the crowd dancing around Carter began to whoop it up. He'd just taken off his shirt and was twirling it in the air.
"Man," said Dick, "if I didn't know he was in his 50s, I'd think he was twenty years older.
"The white hair on his chest kinda gives him away, doncha think?"
Dick laughed. He turned to look at me. "Do you mind if we talk a little business?"
"Sure."
"The way things are going, Nick, I think I'll be able to pay you back by the end of next year."
"No rush on my end."
He frowned a little and then turned to look at the crowd dancing below. "I hate being in anyone's debt."
I looked at him for a long moment. He was in love with the Troc. It was his baby. Since it had opened, it had become the kind of place he'd dreamed of. It felt like a home, of sorts. I knew it was the only place anywhere in the world where I was willing to show up after 2 in the morning and hang out with Carter while he danced shirtless to the latest disco tunes.
Dick had built something special that was filled with a kind of magic I'd rarely ever seen. Although they were nothing alike, I always thought of the old Black Cat on Montgomery whenever we walked in the doors. That was another place that, once upon a time, had that same kind of magic.
So, looking at Dick and seeing how much he was in love with the music and the crowd and the sound system that had cost a hundred grand and was worth every penny, I made up my mind. It was something I'd wanted to do when he'd first asked me to be a silent partner in the club and, instead, I'd offered to loan him as much money as he needed at no interest. I liked the guy and knew whatever he did with the place would be successful. And I'd been right. He was more successful than anyone in the City thought he would be. And that was a good thing.
I squeezed his shoulder. "Dick?"
He looked at me. "Yeah, Nick?"
"You don't owe me a thing."
His blue eyes widened. "But..." He began to frown. "But that promissory note—"
"Forget about it. It's canceled. Paid in full."
He stared at me for a long minute before finally asking, "How do you make any money if you just give it away?"
I shrugged. I'd never once understood how I'd become so rich and, at 55, wasn't interested in figuring it out. Carter and I had more money than we could ever spend in a thousand years. Giving it away was one of my favorite things to do. My lawyers and accountants would have to figure out a way to do it so that Dick wouldn't owe any taxes, but they knew every (legal) trick in the book.
He leaned in. "Are you sure?"
I grinned and kissed him on the cheek. "Positive." Thinking of one my favorite people, I waved my hand like Roz Russell in Auntie Mame and said, "Now, circulate, darling, circulate."
He kissed me back and, before heading down the spiral staircase that led to the dance floor, said, "I'll never forget this, Nick. I promise."
Nick Williams Mystery Series
In 1953, the richest homosexual in San Francisco is a private investigator.
Nick Williams lives in a modest bungalow with his fireman husband, a sweet fellow from Georgia by the name of Carter Jones.
Nick's gem of a secretary, Marnie Wilson, is worried that Nick isn't working enough. She knits a lot.
Jeffrey Klein, Esquire, is Nick's friend and lawyer. He represents the guys and gals who get caught in police raids in the Tenderloin.
Lt. Mike Robertson is Nick's first love and best friend. He's a good guy who's one hell of a cop.
The Unexpected Heiress is where their stories begin. Read along and fall in love with the City where cable cars climb halfway to the stars.
Long before the Summer of Love, pride parades down Market Street, and the fight for marriage equality, San Francisco was all about the Red Scare, F.B.I. investigations, yellow journalism run amok, and the ladies who play mahjong over tea.
Nick & Carter Holiday Series
Welcome to a year of holidays with Nick Williams and Carter Jones!
This is a series of short stories with each centered around a specific holiday.
From New Year's Day to Boxing Day, each story stands on its own and might occur in any year from the early 1920s to the first decade of the 21st Century.
Saturday Series Spotlights
Frank W Butterfield
Frank W. Butterfield is the Amazon best-selling author of 89 (and counting) self-published novels, novellas, and short stories. Born and raised in Lubbock, Texas, he has traveled all over the US and Canada and now makes his home in Daytona Beach, Florida. His first attempt at writing at the age of nine with a ball-point pen and a notepad was a failure. Forty years later, he tried again and hasn't stopped since.
B&N / SMASHWORDS / iTUNES
Father's Day, 2005 #12
Bastille Day, 1957 #15
Mother's Day, 1978 #10
Nick Williams Mystery Series
SMASHWORDS / iTUNES / KOBO
B&N / iTUNES AUDIO / AUDIBLE
Nick & Carter Holiday Series
