BILL: Santa Monica. There were…streamers. And colored lanterns along the boardwalk. They hadn’t bothered to get a permit; not that anyone would’ve allowed one for such a circus. They were rushing everybody along. It was almost sunset and so damn hot for October.

STANLEY: What were they wearing?

BILL: Robes. I don’t even know what kind. Fitted robes. Japanese shit.

STANLEY: Who was there?

BILL: Their friends. Rodrigo’s mother, the poor woman.

STANLEY: Poor woman. And where were you and I?

BILL: Hiding. In our suits, we hid.

STANLEY: We surprised Ricky. I brought you along to stop the ceremony and convince him to come home. But you didn’t do that.

BILL: No.

STANLEY: What did you do?

BILL: I hugged him. I drank on the plane, and…I was just so happy to see him again, I wasn’t thinking. But Ricky, he was scared to find me standing there. His whole life, I’ve never seen him that scared. He asked if I’d come to watch him…

STANLEY: Get married?

BILL: Whatever. He asked if that’s why I came. I said, “If this is what you want, if this is what you’re choosing over your family…go ahead. I’ll watch.”

STANLEY: And what did your son say to that?

BILL: He said…

<swallowing, whimpering>

He said…“Thank you, Dad.”

STANLEY: What was it like to watch Ricky marry a man?

BILL: Can I please take a break? My head’s feeling like it needs water…

STANLEY: No. We’re so close. Tell me what it felt like.

BILL: I can’t—

STANLEY: What it felt like for ME was strangely interesting. Like being out of my own body. Their vows…so cheesy, so much silly crying. They weren’t getting REAL married; this was playacting a wedding, but still…something hypnotizing was happening. I was so used to seeing Ricky in his bad times. His rage and fear. The blankness of the post-Nightlight years. But now, here he was—on a beach, with a sunset, touching this man’s hand and looking at him while everyone was looking at them. Every private secret weighing him down his entire life was suddenly public and gone. Crumbled. Flown away into the ocean like it was never there.

BILL: I need water.

STANLEY: After the wedding was over, where did we go?

BILL: A bar.

STANLEY: After the bar, where did we go?

BILL: Ricky’s apartment.

STANLEY: You took something out of the trunk of your rental. What was it?

BILL: A crowbar. You know all this! Just tell the story yourself and let me have a drink…

STANLEY: Rodrigo died instantly, didn’t he?

BILL: …Yes…

STANLEY: There was a full minute where I realized what you had done, but Ricky hadn’t yet. He was in the next room. It was the longest, worst minute in the whole wide world. I screamed. What did I scream?