LOViNG STEVE HELLER

I like to go out all the time; he wants to work and then come home. I can’t wait ’til they implant the internet right into my brain; he still uses a flip phone.

THAT WAS OCTOBER 1974.

The waitresses at The Joyous Lake wore tiny little short-shorts and bandanas tied strategically around their breasts. When theywentmissingfor15minutes, you knew they were either getting high in the walk-in or making out in the bathroom.

When the crowds got thick, the tiny waitressespushedtheirwaythrough withtheirtraysheldhigh above their heads. Not a drop of soup was spilled.

Assoonasyougoto yourshift you’d head right out onto the dance floor. Everyonewould be pressedtogether— straight and gay, male and female, young and old. You would bump and grind next to a stranger for a few hours, and then, with nothing more than a nod, decide to go home with them. The sex was friendly and dangerous, all at the same time. In the morning, you’d kiss them and try to remember their scent, and then head back into town, sometimes not even knowing their full name.

BY

Being a waitress at The Lake was as good as it got in those days, and being the cashier was all that times ten. I didn’t have to be on my feet all night. I got paid great and didn’t have to worry about squirrelly tippers. I got to go upstairs to the private apartment above the kitchen and get high with the musicians who were waiting to go on stage. And the amazing food was free.

Whenpeoplesay,“myhusbandis my best friend,” I’m not really sure what that means. Steve is many things, but not that. That’s why I have girlfriends! I don’t want to talk things to death with him. I don’t want him helping me figure out what to wear or what color my hair should be. Hedoesn’tneed to be my cheerleader, although he often is. We’ve been through it all—Fire. Flood. My gamblingawaymore money than wehad.Friendsoverdosing.Parents dying. Raging resentments that had to simmer o . Jealousy.Moneytroubles. Deep, deep money troubles. Annoyances that just had to be ignored. And so we learned. I learned to be quiet sometimes. He’s a little chatterbox now. Welearnedforgiveness and to sometimes just let things slide. We say it aloud; I love you. We’re so lucky. We’ve been blessed.

These past three years have been really special. Just the two of us most of the time. Lots and lots of laughter. Deep talks. Holding hands and sometimes making out like we just met. He was the perfect pandemic mate, praising each dinner. Loving our new dogwithabandon.Loving me with abandon. Making me feel safe and cherished. That alone is no small feat for someone who likes to say, “What if… ?”

This is the love story I never expected. I’m shocked and grateful for it every day.