Bells Are Ringing, page 1
part #2 of A Nick & Carter Story Series
Bells Are Ringing:
A Wedding Novella
A Nick & Carter Story
Book 2
By Frank W. Butterfield
© 2020 by Frank W. Butterfield. All rights reserved.
No part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without express written permission of the copyright holder.
This book contains explicit language and suggestive situations.
This is a work of fiction that refers to historical figures, locales, and events, along with many completely fictional ones. The primary characters are utterly fictional and do not resemble anyone that I have ever met or known of.
NCS02-K-20230206
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Contents
Preface
Prologue
Chapter 1 You seem preoccupied
Chapter 2 How was your day?
Chapter 3 Like Grand Central Station
Chapter 4 And a peach shimmer
Chapter 5 We'd like to make you an offer
Chapter 6 He's in love with the biggest fireman
Chapter 7 Time to go
Chapter 8 Most of our brides prefer that
Chapter 9 His long nightmare was over
Chapter 10 Here comes trouble
Epilogue
Author's Note
Acknowledgments
Historical Notes
About Frank W. Butterfield
Books by Frank W. Butterfield
Preface
In a hurricane-proof motel
Daytona Beach, Fla.
Wednesday, February 5, 2020
Howdy!
Welcome to this, the second Nick & Carter Story.
Nick Williams and Carter Jones are two of the primary characters in the Nick Williams Mysteries series.
That series of books starts in 1953, after the two men have been together for six years.
The first book in this series, An Enchanted Romance, consists of a number of vignettes in the lives of Nick and Carter, starting with when they met in August of 1947 to around the time when Nick hired Marnie Wilson to be his secretary towards the end of 1950.
Like that book, this novella allows us to see the world through the eyes of both Nick and Carter. In addition, we get to dive into what Marnie, her mother, and Nick's father are thinking about as they go through the twists and turns they all encounter along the way to finally hearing the words, "I do."
Enjoy!
Prologue
San Francisco Examiner
Smart Set Section
Page 4
Sunday, April 4, 1954
NOB HILL WEDDING
ANNOUNCED
Dr. Parnell Robert Williams, M.D., grandson of Griffith "Griff" Williams, famed 49er, will wed again on Saturday, April 17th, at Grace Episcopal Cathedral on Nob Hill.
His bride-to-be, Leticia Rose Wilson (née Goff), is a widow and hails from Burlingame.
Dr. Williams' first marriage to Alexandra Margaret Davies ended with her death in Acapulco in 1929. He also recently suffered the loss of his only daughter, Janet, within the last year.
The best man will be Nicholas Williams, of San Francisco. The maid of honor will be Marnie Wilson, also of San Francisco. The bride and groom will be attended by their only children.
A lavish reception, by invitation only, will follow at The Pacific Union Club where the prospective groom is a member.
The couple plans to honeymoon in Carmel-by-the-Sea and will reside at the Williams mansion at Sacramento and Taylor.
San Francisco Chronicle
Women's World
Page 2S
Sunday, April 4, 1954
WILLIAMS-WILSON
On Saturday, April 17, Mrs. Leticia Rose Wilson (née Goff) of Burlingame will be wed to Dr. Parnell Robert Williams, M.D. of this city.
The nuptials will be ordained by the Right Reverend Simon Acre, Episcopal Bishop of California, at Grace Cathedral on Nob Hill at 2 p.m. that day.
Attending the bride-to-be will be her daughter, Marnie. The groom will have his son, Nicholas, to stand for him.
The Pacific Union Club will host a reception immediately following the ceremony. The couple will depart forthwith for Carmel-by-the-Sea where they will honeymoon for ten days. On return, they will reside at Dr. Williams' family home.
Oakland Tribune
Feminine Sphere
Page 2S
Sunday, April 4, 1954
NOB HILL NUPTIALS SET
Dr. Parnell Robert Williams, M.D., of San Francisco will wed Mrs. Leticia Rose Wilson (née Goff) of Burlingame at Grace Cathedral on Saturday, April 17th. Rt. Rev. Simon Acre, Bishop of California, will officiate. Reception to follow at Pacific Union Club. Couple will honeymoon in Carmel-by-the-Sea.
Chapter 1
You seem preoccupied
137 Hartford Street
San Francisco, Cal.
Thursday, April 8, 1954
Early that morning
Carter Jones, a former fireman and now an arson investigator for Consolidated Security, of which he was part owner, jogged down the stairs and towards the living room.
He had a grin on his face because he'd just left Nick Williams, his husband, in a bit of a bind. After fooling around a little before having breakfast, Nick found himself in an embarrassing situation. He was all tied up to the bed and with no way to get loose!
Carter's grin faded before he got to the foot of the stairs when he saw a familiar face peering through the front door.
It was Dr. Williams, Nick's father. And he looked upset as he knocked insistently.
Realizing he was just wearing his undershirt and trousers and nothing else, Carter hesitated at the foot of the stairs. Dr. Williams could plainly see him. There was no way Carter could scamper back upstairs and quickly get dressed.
Deciding to swallow his pride (and a touch of shame), Carter marched over to the door and opened it.
"Good morning," he said as nonchalantly as he could.
"Good morning, Carter," replied the older man as he walked past and into the living room.
Closing the door, Carter padded over to where Dr. Williams was standing. Looking down at him, Carter asked, "What brings you to Eureka Valley so early in the morning?"
Dr. Williams took a deep breath. "Is Nicholas here?"
"He's, uh, tied up at the moment." Carter raised his voice just a little, hoping Nick would hear him and not call out in an unfortunate manner that might very well embarrass them both.
"On the telephone, I suppose, and on a case."
"Yes, sir," replied Carter with his fingers crossed behind his back. He hated to lie. Suddenly remembering his manners, he asked, "May I take your hat and coat, sir?"
"No, thank you, Carter. I'm afraid this isn't a social call. Not strictly, that is."
"Oh?"
"You see..." The man's face crumbled. He turned pale (gray, really) and took a deep breath.
Carter had seen the man fall apart before. He was afraid he was about to see it again. He quickly asked, "How about some coffee, Dr. Williams?"
"I suppose..." Those were the only words the man was able to utter as his voice began to break.
Carter boldly put his hand on the older man's shoulder and gently steered him towards the kitchen.
. . .
Nick looked up at the ceiling above their double bed as he listened to Carter's size 14 feet pound their way down the stairs. His husband was obviously gleeful to have left Nick in such a compromising position. He was spread-eagle, as they used to say in the Navy, with his wrists and ankles bound to the bed.
To tell the truth, Nick didn't mind that at all. He always enjoyed feeling the strength of the bigger man's hands and arms. He'd also enjoyed giving that morning's lesson in nautical rope tying, something Nick had conjured up from memory. He'd been in the Navy, after all, as Carter had pointed out, and definitely knew his knots.
Carter, as always, was a quick study. Their investment in yards and yards of rope at the hardware store over on Castro Street had certainly paid off. Nick was stuck, but good!
As he tried to decide what saucy taunt to yell down to Carter, he heard someone knock on the front door. Whoever it was sounded insistent. Nick hoped it wasn't any of the gals who lived in one of the two houses just to their north. Carter was only wearing an undershirt, after all. Nick doubted any of the women, all of whom were what one of them liked to refer to as "gay gals," would be very happy to see Carter's hairy chest exposed so early in the day.
But he needn't have worried, he suddenly realized. It was a man's voice he heard reply to Carter's greeting.
Then he felt a knot begin to form in his stomach. The voice belonged to none other than Dr. Parnell Williams, his own father.
Nick began to struggle against the very bonds which Carter had so playfully wrapped around his wrists and ankles.
Not wearing a stitch of clothing, Nick was in quite a pickle!
He had to get loose, and fast!
. . .
"Cream or sugar, Dr. Williams?" The percolator was finally making its gurgling sound and Carter was relieved. The two men had been sitting at the kitchen table i
Unfortunately, Carter was more than certain that he'd heard Nick moving around on the bed upstairs. He was likely trying to get free and he was making a certain amount of noise in the effort. Their bedroom, after all, was right above the kitchen. Every move made the bed squeak just a little. And with the only other sound in the house being that of the gas ring on the stovetop, Carter was certain that Dr. Williams could not only hear what was happening over their heads, but that he'd also deduced what Nick was up to.
"I'll take mine black, if you don't mind, Carter."
The uncertainty in the older man's voice brought Carter back to Earth with the realization that whatever was on Dr. Williams's mind was probably crowding out any awareness he might have had of squeaky box springs and the slight scrape of bed frame legs against the rug on their bedroom floor.
"Here you go," said Carter as he handed over a mug of steaming coffee to his guest. Taking his seat with his own cup, black, Carter decided to break the ice. "What's on your mind, Dr. Williams? You seem preoccupied."
Looking into the inky depths of his morning drink, the older man nodded.
Carter was more than certain that something unexpected and upsetting had happened. He couldn't, however, imagine what it might be. He carefully took a sip from his cup and waited—all the while thinking of Nick who was a whiz at waiting for unwilling clients to finally spill the beans. Nick was really good at that. Carter hoped he might be, as well.
After what seemed like a very long time, Dr. Williams said, "Leticia is upset about the wedding."
Carter froze.
Mrs. Leticia Wilson was the mother of Marnie Wilson who was Nick's loyal and devoted secretary and had been since 1950.
If there were any two people who were more than right for each other (apart from himself and Nick), Dr. Williams and Mrs. Wilson were those two. They were both getting on in years and had known great heartache. Carter knew that Mrs. Wilson had, more or less, insinuated herself into Dr. Williams's life. He also knew that the older man wasn't unaware of her machinations and, in fact, seemed to welcome them. Regardless of how they came together, the two were definitely in love and most definitely belonged together. Carter vowed, right in that moment, to do everything in his power to make sure they got married and stayed married.
In as neutral a tone of voice as he could muster, Carter asked, "What seems to be the matter?"
"My family, for one."
"Your family?" Carter knew he was referring to Nick's two aunts who lived south of the City in the wealthy enclaves of Atherton and Hillsborough, with their husbands, children, and grandchildren.
"My sister, Helen, to be specific."
Carter nodded and took a sip.
"She came to the City to have luncheon at the Palace with Leticia." He sighed. "Things did not go well."
"Oh?"
Dr. Williams looked directly at Carter for the first time since he'd arrived. "Helen rather blames me for the loss of our Uncle Paul's inheritance. When Nicholas won at the Supreme Court, she gave me quite a dressing-down." He took a quick sip of his coffee. "I believe I once told you the idea to sue Nicholas over the terms of his inheritance was hers from the start."
Carter nodded, but said nothing, which was probably for the best. For all the time he'd spent with Dr. Williams, playing chess at the house on Sacramento Street, and listening to all manner of tales about the Williams clan, Carter had still not managed to forgive Dr. Williams for turning his back on Nick. It wasn't just the inheritance. Trouble between father and son went back many years.
Continuing, the older man said, "In any event, Helen was rather rude with Leticia about her antecedents." Carter saw a familiar flash of anger pass over Dr. Williams's face. It was an expression Carter had seen plenty of times on Nick's face during the almost 7 years they'd been together.
"What could she—?"
Dr. Williams waved Carter's question away. "That's not the point. The point is that Leticia has decided to throw over all the 'pomp and circumstance' and wishes for me to take her to Las Vegas to be married."
Carter couldn't help but laugh. "I think that's a great idea!"
"You do?" The older man sounded genuinely surprised.
"Yes, sir, I do."
"Why?" Dr. Williams peered at him.
"Well, I can imagine that, for a woman who's from a place a lot like where I grew up, the idea of getting married in Grace Cathedral—"
"Of course." The older man nodded. "Of course, dear boy, you're exactly right." Looking more than relieved, Dr. Williams put his mug down on the table and stood. Without waiting for his host, he turned and strode into the dining room.
Jumping up, Carter followed him. "Are you OK?"
"Just fine, my boy." Having reached the front door by then, Dr. Williams opened it and then turned. He offered his hand with as friendly a smile as he seemed capable of offering.
Carter shook the man's hand with a grin. "When do you go to Las Vegas?"
"As soon as it can be arranged. I'm heading over to Collingwood Street right now to talk to Leticia."
Carter's grin turned into an affectionate smile. "I'm glad to hear it."
"Thank you, my boy." Dr. Williams suddenly frowned. "Don't you think you should put on a shirt? You'll catch your death of cold if you stand out here dressed like that." Without waiting for a reply, Dr. Williams quickly descended the front steps and made a decisive turn towards 18th Street.
Carter watched the man walk away, feeling very happy that the crisis had passed.
. . .
"Vegas?" asked Nick as Carter gently untied the knots.
"Yep. I think Marnie's mother was overwhelmed with everything. And your Aunt Helen wasn't very nice to her, which is no surprise."
"Nope," said Nick.
He then smiled as Carter kissed the back of his newly released left hand and said, "I hope that didn't hurt."
Grinning up at the former fireman, Nick replied, "The only thing that hurt was the idea that my father might see me like this."
Moving around to the other side of the bed, Carter said, "I'd have physically restrained him."
"Like when you carried him out of the church last year?"
"Yes, sir."
"I hope you don't have to do that this time around."
Carter stopped what he was doing with the knots holding Nick's other hand in place and sat on the edge of the bed. His face took on an expression of concern. "I wish you could have seen your old man downstairs. I've never seen him look so bad."
Nick was dubious. Carter was talking about the meanest man who'd ever lived on Nob Hill, and that was saying something. "That so?"
"That's so," replied Carter. He leaned over and kissed Nick right on the mouth. In a whisper, he added, "If your attitude doesn't improve, I'll be happy to leave you tied up like this until it does."
Nick got a slight thrill from that thought, but he didn't dare let Carter see it. "My right hand is free. I'd be careful, if I were you. I can give you my famous right hook even with one hand tied..." He grinned. "Above my head."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah," replied Nick in a muffled tone. It was hard to talk with Carter's tongue in his mouth.
Chapter 2
How was your day?
Driving west across the Bay Bridge
Wednesday, April 14, 1954
Rush hour
As usual during the evening rush hour, the automobile traffic heading into the City was lighter than what was moving in the other direction towards Oakland.
After Nick paid his quarter toll and began to pick up speed, Carter looked over to his right at Treasure Island. Originally the site of the Golden Gate Expo before the war, it was now a Navy base. Carter had gone to the Expo a couple of times with his then-boyfriend, Henry Wilson. They'd gone once at night, which was really the time to see everything there was on display with all the bright lights. They'd even walked the Gayway and seen Sally Rand's Nude Ranch. He was about to ask Nick about whether he'd ever gone to the fair, but then—
"I'm glad I was able to give you a ride home, Chief."
Carter turned to look at Nick as he drove their Buick Special across the bridge. They had the windows rolled down and the heater was blasting since it was damp and on the chilly side. Carter, who had a sensitive nose, could smell an almost noxious blend of gasoline fumes coming from the cars around them mixed with the rancid odor of burning oil powering the ferries under the bridge. But that was nearly cancelled out by the sweet and salty tang of the bay.
