I got to the office at the usual time on Tuesday, January 4th. Kevin and I had both taken off the full Christmas holidays that the boys had off from school, as had many of the top management people. At this time of year, the business is relatively dormant, so it's easy to take time off. Kevin's secretary, and mine, both know to call us if there were any major crises, and there hadn't been any. "What's on tap for today, Cheryl?" I asked after we had "visited" a bit about the holidays. "You've got an appointment with Andrew Callaway from Gift Shop Number 13. I don't know what he wants," she said. "Okay. That one is open all year, isn't it?" I said. "Yes, sir. It's the second biggest, after the one in this building," she said. I had a vague mental picture of what he looked like, but I really didn't know him well at all. He is an assistant manager, and I don't have very much contact with people at his level. "Okay. Just let me know when he gets here," I said. I went into my office. I had actually shut down my computer over the holiday, which I don't usually do, even over the weekend, and I must have had sixty-five emails. Most of them were from listservs I belonged to. I scanned the subject lines and read two or three of them. I chuckled at a couple of funny ones my mom had sent me, but they weren't good enough to forward to anybody. Promptly at nine, there was a knock on my door. I got up to answer it. I figured it was Andrew Callaway. He is in management, and I could surely do him the courtesy of answering the door. "Andrew? Come in," I said, shaking his hand. "Refreshments?" Cheryl asked. I nodded to her. "Have a seat, Andrew. Did you have a good Christmas?" I asked. "No, I'm afraid I didn't," he said. Oh, shit, I thought. "I'm sorry to hear that," I said. "Mr. Mashburn, I'm going to get right to the point. You know I'm gay, right?" he said. "Well, no, actually I didn't," I said. I wondered where that was going. "Well, I am. And my partner of eight years is dying of AIDS," he said. Oh, shit, I thought. "Do you have any idea of how much time he has?" I asked. "The doctor says a month, but I think it's probably much less than that. The thing is, I've used up all my sick days and all my 'personal time off' days, too. I came to beg. I'm desperate, Sir. I can't afford to not have my salary. His medical bills are outrageous, and on Friday we got an eviction notice from our landlord. I want him to die with dignity at home, and I don't know where to turn," he said, and then he dissolved into tears. I got up from behind my desk and sat next to him on the sofa that is across from my desk. I put my arm around him. He was trembling and sobbing. I held him like that until he calmed down. "Do you know that I'm family?" I asked. "Family?" he asked. "I'm gay, too, Andrew. And please call me Rick," I said. He looked at me like he was shocked. "Really?" he asked. "Yeah, really. And so is Kevin Foley. Do you know who he is?" I asked. "The hotel guy?" "Yeah. Exactly. He's my husband," I said. The look on his face was unbelievable. I almost wished Kyle were there with his camera. "Ohhhh," he said. "Ohhhh. This is such a relief." "Yeah, and Mr. Goodson had two sons, both gay. Kyle, the younger one, lives with us, along with seven other gay boys," I said. "The older son is dead." "AIDS?" he asked. "No. Some kind of medical accident. What's your guy's name?" I asked. "Trey. Trey Hudson," he said. "Andrew, we have a room for you guys in our house," I said. "Is it 'Andrew' or 'Andy?'" "'Andy,'" he said. "Andy, this is going to sound crass as hell, but I want you to think about this. Kyle has a fantastic penthouse condominium, and I know you guys could stay there free for as long as you need to. He also has a bunch of rental properties that I know he'd let you stay in, rent free. But I would really like for you guys to stay at our house. I think our boys would benefit from knowing you and Trey, and I think they need to be at his bedside when he dies. I hope you don't think that's morbid," I said. "You said, but I don't remember. How many gay boys are in that house?" Andy asked. "Ten, counting Kevin and me," I said. "That could be Trey's legacy to the world, Rick. Don't expect a speech from him, though, okay? He can barely talk to me, and not every day. We would love that, though. Thank you so much," he said, and then the tears took over. Andy and I worked out the details of the transfer to our house. I ordered a hospital bed from a local medical supply house, and I had them set it up in the study, downstairs. I checked it all out with Kevin, of course, before they moved in. "You knew, didn't you?" Kevin said. "Knew what?" I said. "That our house is the perfect place for them," he said. "Well, they're being evicted," I said. "You said 'yes' for the kids, didn't you?" "Yeah, I did, Kevin. I don't want them dying of AIDS," I said. "Maybe seeing Trey will put the fear of God in them." I was weeping. "Come here," he said. I walked over to him, and he grabbed me up in a big hug. "Rick, you did exactly what I would have done. And you know it. You project this tough, macho, Ironman exterior, but inside there's nothing but a heart of gold, is there?" Kevin said. 't "I don't know, but I can't stand the idea of one of my brothers dying in a hotel room, or someplace worse. The kids are going to be freaked out by a man dying of AIDS in our house, but they need to be freaked out. Trey is only thirty-two years old. That's very young to die, to me. I hate it for him, but if it does our boys some good, then maybe his life will have a little more meaning," I said. "Yes, it will," Kevin said. * * * The week after Trey and Andy moved in with us was sort of surreal. The hospice people were there every day, and they took care of bathing him and shaving him and all of those kinds of things. Andy was in there with Trey all the time, and there was at least one of our boys in there with Andy and Trey almost every minute. We gave permission for Tim and Brian to miss some school because of the importance we placed on their being there. The month the doctor had predicted was really only a little more than a week. When we knew the end was near, we all gathered in his room. Andy was in the bed with him, holding him. It was almost over. Kyle started the song. "Be not afraid, "I go before you always, "Come, follow me, "And I will give you rest." There were enough of us who knew that song from church that we were able to sing it through to the end. "And if wicked men, "Insult and hate you, "All because of Me, "Blesséd, Blesséd are you." "Be not afraid, "I go before you always, "Come, follow me, "And I will give you rest." With the final word of the hymn, the monitors that were hooked to Trey started beeping, and he was gone. I'm not a religious guy at all. I was raised Catholic, but I more or less don't believe much of whatever they believe. I just go to church because Kevin wants to, and I put up with being Catholic because Kevin is and his family is. I want to be a good person, and I've never known any better people then them. I guess I'm kind of a Catholic by default. That song that night moved me deeply, though. The boys all looked terribly confused and concerned when the beeping started. A hospice worker was in the den, and she came in and turned off the noise. Andy kissed Trey gently on the lips, and he got out of bed. * * * Andy had had plenty of time to make all the funeral arrangements. There wasn't going to be a viewing, and Trey was to be cremated. All we did was call the mortuary to come and get the body. I had a kind of stunned feeling, and Andy just sat and stared blankly into space. He wasn't even crying. "What can we do, Andy?" Kevin asked. "My God, you've done so much already," he said. "I won't ever be able to repay you." "Don't even think about that," I said. "He's at peace now, and so am I. I've had a few months to become reconciled with what was going to happen. Now it's just a question of putting my own life back together. We lived together for eight years. Rick, when I went to see you, you told me that Kevin is your husband. Trey and I never had a formal commitment ceremony or anything, but he was my husband, too. We were soul mates, just as the two of you are," Andy said. "How long had he been sick?" I asked. "He's been HIV positive since he was nineteen. At first the drugs worked well, but about six months ago he went from being positive to full-blown AIDS. He's been in a steady decline since then," he said. "Nineteen?" I said, looking at Justin and Kyle. "Yes. He was infected by his first boyfriend. He was just a sophomore in college at the time," he said. "The doctors aren't sure exactly what happened for the condition to develop into AIDS, but evidently it happens that way sometimes." Kyle got up to make coffee and came back into the den. "The coffee will be ready in a few minutes," he said. I knew he was desperate to do something, but there just wasn't anything to do but wait for the people from the funeral home. I glanced at my watch, and it was five o'clock in the afternoon. "Well, guys, again, thank you for all you've done. I'll be out of here in a day or so, if that's all right," Andy said. "No, I'm afraid it's not all right. You're going to stay here until you can get your head above water. Where are you going to go?" Kevin said. "I don't know, but I can't impose on you any more than I already have," Andy said. "Andy, look. Be realistic. There are ten of us here already. Do you honestly think eleven is going to be an imposition?" I said. "What about your furniture? That's still in your apartment, right? Or where is it?" Kevin asked. "We were living in a furnished apartment. We sold all our furniture a few months ago. We brought all of our clothes and personal effects with us. Most of that stuff is still in the trunk of my car," Andy said. "Well, bring that stuff inside because you're not going anywhere but up to the third floor of this house," I said. "Around here, we consider all gay people to be our brothers and sisters, especially the ones who live here. You're our newest brother. How old are you, by the way?" "I'll be thirty-one in about a month," he said. "He's too old to be your little brother, Rick," Justin said. "You and Kevin ain't the only grown-ups around here anymore." "Does Trey have family that need to be notified?" Kevin asked, ignoring Justin. "He hasn't had any contact with his family since I've known him. He has a cousin, who's also gay, and Trey asked me to call him when it was time. I've never met the man. I'll call him later, if you don't mind," he said. "I'll need to call my parents, too." "Feel free to make yourself completely at home," I said. "You're not alone, and don't ever forget that. We're your family now." He set down his coffee cup, and, for the first time since we were in my office the week before, he cried. "It seems like we ought to do something, but I don't know what to do," Kyle said. "Kyle, why don't a couple of you guys give Andy a hand with the stuff that's in his car. They should be here for Trey any minute," Kevin said. "Okay. Sure," Kyle said. "Give me your car keys, and we'll get the stuff, Andy. Does the room he's in matter?" "Put him in the new one that's empty," I said. * * * The people from the funeral home called twice from the hearse to ask for directions to the house. The second time I almost got annoyed and told the guy off, but I kept my cool. Maybe the guy was like Kevin and really didn't know the difference between north and south. The boys drifted away, and Kevin and I went into Trey's room with Andy when the funeral home people got there. It was rather emotional for all of us. Andy held up better than Kevin and I did, though, and we hadn't even known Trey. "Are you going to ride into town with them?" Kevin asked. "No. Absolutely everything's been done that can be done. They're going to fly him to Jacksonville for the cremation, and I should have his ashes in about a week," Andy said. We walked Trey to the front door, and Andy had his hand on Trey's chest the whole time. As the men were gliding the body into the hearse, Andy, tears coursing down his face, whispered, "Goodbye, my love." The driver shut the door, and they were gone in less than a minute. "Andy, I wish I had the words to . . . " Kevin started to say. He got choked up, though, and couldn't finish. "I know, Kevin," Andy said. "Do you think it all had any effect on the boys?" "I don't think there'll be any unsafe sex among those guys," I said. "Lose one to save eight? That helps me," Andy said. "And I know it would have helped Trey, too, if he had been able to comprehend what was happening." "Tomorrow I'll have my secretary call the newspaper to see what has to be done about an obituary," I said. "The funeral home will take care of that. That was part of the pre-need arrangements. It was just an option, but, since he was so close to the end, I went ahead and did it," Andy said. "But thank you, Rick. Thank you for everything." "That's the last time I want to hear you say that, okay?" I said as gently as I knew how. He smiled shyly and nodded. "Let's go see your new abode," Kevin said.
The night Trey died, it was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop around our house. Tim and I stayed in our room. I had just started back to school, and I really didn't have any school work to do. I looked through my comparative religions textbook. It actually has pictures in it, and some of it is pretty cool looking. Tim was on the computer. "It's pretty sad about Trey, isn't it?" I said. "Yeah. I'd never known anybody who had AIDS before, had you?" "Nope. He's the first, and I hope he's the last one, too," I said. "Kyle, I know you believe as strongly in monogamy as I do . . . " Tim started to say something, but stopped. "Don't worry, Babe. It's never happening to us. I don't doubt I'd enjoy sex with another guy, probably, but every part of me belongs to you, and to you alone," I said. "I don't think I'm as horny as I used to be." "You couldn't prove that by me," Tim said, kind of laughing a little bit. "Oh, I know I am with you. I meant in general," I said. "I don't get what you mean," Tim said. "Okay, here's a 'for instance.' I used to get hard just by looking at guys on the beach. They didn't even have to be cute, either. That doesn't happen anymore. Or maybe I don't let it happen or something. I don't know. I just know it doesn't happen like it used to," I said. "All you have to do is touch me, or just look at me like you do sometimes." "How do I look at you that makes you aroused?" Tim asked. "Like you're doing right now, that's how. Cut it out, Tim. You're boning me up," I said. "What if I came over and did this?" he said. He crossed over from the computer to the bed and started rubbing the inside of my right thigh. I moaned a little bit. "You think it's right for us to do this? With Trey and all, I mean?" I said. "To tell you the truth, I don't think Trey cares," Tim said. "Well, get in bed, then, before I shoot in these clothes," I said. We made love a lot earlier that night than we usually do, and that's exactly what it was. Making love. * * * "Hello," I said, answering my phone. "Kyle, it's Cliff Andrews." "Hey, Mr. Cliff. What's going on?" I asked. "We rented your first property for you, Kyle," he said. "Really? Which one?" "One of the condos. The one on the fourth floor," he said. "Cool. Snow Birds?" "Yeah. They're going to be in it through the second week of March. We're fixing to start running ads in college newspapers for Spring Break, too, so we ought to have 'em all booked solid for the seven weeks of Break, at least." "Did you meet the people?" "No, one of my associates showed the place. They're people from Michigan, and one of their sons and his friend are going to be coming down for the month of February. I wonder if the son and his friend are like you guys," Mr. Cliff said. "What you mean? Gay?" I asked. "Yeah," he said. "Could be. We're everywhere, you know," I said. He laughed. "Kyle, when I was your age, if somebody had said I'd some day be proud of my gay sons, I'd have called him a damn liar. And knocked him down, too, probably. I guess we all change, though," he said. "Sons? Who else is gay?" I thought I had stumbled on a scoop here. "Ryan," he said. "Oh, him. I thought you meant one of your other boys is gay," I said. "Not that I know of. I think they both pretty much like the ladies. But it wouldn't matter if they were, that's for damn sure." "Mr. Cliff, changing the subject, do you think I ought to go see the renters? Just to say hello, and all?" "That's not a bad idea, Kyle, especially with these Snow Birds. You won't have time to do that for Break or the summer 'cause it'll be too many, but the Snow Birds tend to come back year after year, for several weeks at a time. Any little thing you can do like that to make them feel at home and welcome is good. It'll help with your repeat business, that's for sure," he said. "I might make 'em a coffee cake. I can make some pretty good ones," I said. "That's a great idea. 'Course, that's the South. That's the way we do. You ought to get all the money you need for three months' payments out of these people, on that one, at least. We'll rent those other two condos, too. Probably not the houses, though. Of course, I can't make promises . . . " "Oh, yes, sir, I know about that, and I don't expect you to," I said. "Speaking of the houses, have they started the painting on that one?" "Tell you the truth, I don't know." "Swing by there when you get time, just to make sure it's underway and all. You know those guys, don't you?" "I know the youngest son . . . " "Well, he's in college, but it's his older brother and his daddy. If you don't know them, you know the family, and you know pretty much everybody they know," he said. "Did the older brother go to Beachside? Could he have been in Clay and Ronnie's class?" I asked. Ronnie is Mr. Cliff's middle son. "He might have been in Clay and Ronnie's class at some point, but he dropped out of school pretty young. He's not the sharpest pencil in the box, if you know what I mean," he said. I laughed. "The younger one is kind of dumb, too. Mr. Cliff, I hate to break this off, but I've got to get to class. Thank you for everything you've done for me on this deal. I really appreciate it," I said. "Kyle, you realize I'm making money on this thing, don't you?" "Yes, sir, and I want you to, but do you call everybody who rents a property?" He laughed. "No, you're right. I only call the ones who spent as much time in my house as they did in their own house when they were growing up. By the way, Philip told me y'all got some awesome bird dogs. Ryan said Brian and Mack Mixon trained their Springers, too. I'd like to see those dogs work," Mr. Cliff said. "I'm going Saturday. You want to go?" I said. I had no more plans for going hunting Saturday than I did for sucking Mr. Cliff's dick, but what could I say? "I can make it. Are you sure that's okay?" he asked. "Oh, hell, yeah. My daddy's going, too, and that damn Justin has just about turned into a huntin' fool. That's all he and Brian want to do. I'll get back to you about the details. I'll call Philip, but you call him, too. That boy doesn't check his messages, and he don't read his email, either. I hate to break this news to you about your son, Mr. Cliff, but that's the truth," I said. He was laughing his ass off at me, and I was sort of laughing, too. "Kyle, you've got to go, and I do, too. You get your ass to class, you hear me? Bye, and I love you, son," he said. "Bye, Mr. Cliff, I love you, too." Driving to class, I thought about that conversation with Mr. Cliff. I'd have to call the renters to see when I could come over. I'd have to make a coffee cake. Naw, I'd make two. I'd have to go see them. I'd have to go check on the painting at that one house. I'd have to call Philip, or try to. I'd have to call my daddy to make sure he'd go hunting. I'd have to talk to Tim, Justin, and Brian about going hunting, but that would be easy to do. I'd have to call Mr. Pat Pettis, Ryan's daddy, to invite him to go hunting, with his Springer spaniels. I thought Springers were just duck dogs, but I guess I was wrong. Well, I reckon I better get started, I thought. I had Philip's Tallahassee number on speed dial, so I pressed the number. "Hello." Damn, it was Philip. "I ain't fucking believing I actually got you on the fucking phone," I said. He laughed. "Believe it. What do you want?" "I just had a long phone call with your daddy. He had some very nice things to say about you and Ryan, too," I said. "What'd he say?" "I ain't telling you," I said. "Goddamn it, Kyle, tell me what he fucking said," Philip said, close to screaming. I laughed, but I didn't say anything. "Goodson, if you don't tell me what he said, the next time I see you, I'm kicking your fucking ass. And you can take that all the way to the bank," Philip said. "What he said was . . . hold on." I needed two hands to drive the damn truck right at that point, so I put my phone in the shotgun seat. I heard him screaming my name from where the phone was. "I'm back. The traffic's a bitch, and I needed both hands. Sorry," I said. "What'd he say?" "He said that when he was my age, if some guy had said he would one day be proud of his gay sons [and I really emphasized that word], he would have kicked the guy's ass. Then he said, 'I guess people change.'" "He said that? For real?" "Yeah. Then I thought maybe one of your brothers had come out over Christmas or something, so I asked him about that. He said, no, 'sons' meant Philip and Ryan. Is that too cool, or what?" There was only dead silence for a few seconds. "Philip? You there?" I asked. "Gimme a minute," Philip said. "What the hell's going on, Philip?" When he came back on, I could tell he was crying. "Are you crying, you little pussy?" I asked. "Yeah, I'm crying . . . because my father . . . just told you . . . " I heard him sobbing. I wished I was in his apartment right then so I could put my arms around my best friend. "He's proud of his sons, Philip and Ryan?" "That's what the man said," I said. There was a big pause. "Yes!" Philip said. "He thinks of you as a man because of that shit you bought. I really didn't know how he thought about Ryan and me till just now. He's never said that to us, Kyle. Thank you, my brother. Thank you," he said. "Well, that ain't why I called. I thought you knew that shit already," I said. "No, I didn't. Why did you call?" "'Cause we're going hunting Saturday at my daddy's lease in Vernon. Can y'all go?" "Is my daddy going?" "Yeah. That's the whole reason. I'm going to call Mr. Pat, too. And my daddy. I want to see Mr. Pat's Springers. I don't think there's a better dog in the world than a Lab, but I want to see what those Springers can do," I said. "They're damn good dogs, Kyle. I think Brian helped train 'em," Philip said. "Yeah, I know he did. I've just never hunted Springers before. We'll see. Look, I'm getting close to the end of the bridge, so I'm going to need to go. See you Saturday, eight o'clock, sharp. Okay? And remember, Vernon's in Central, not Eastern." "Yeah, we'll be there," Philip said. "Do you know how to get to the lease?" "Yeah, I think so, but keep your cell on, okay?" Philip said. "Will do. Bye, Philip. I love you, Buddy," I said. "Bye. I love you, too," he said, and we hung up. I went to my class, and it was boring as shit. All I could think about was hunting on Saturday with my friends. Mr. Cliff had kind of tricked me into setting that up, but I was very glad he did because that was going to be fun. After my class, I went to the cafeteria in the Student Union to get some more coffee and to hang out until my next class. I called my daddy. "Hello," he said. "Hey, what you doing this Saturday?" "From the way you said that, I reckon I'm doing something with you." "That's right. You're hunting," I said. "Who's going?" "Well, so far, Mr. Cliff, Philip, Ryan, and me. Probably Tim, Justin, and Brian, too, but I haven't talked to those last three, yet." "What about Pat Pettis? I understand he's got some excellent Springer Spaniels that are awesome bird dogs," Daddy said. "I think Brian helped Mack Mixon train them." "Yes, sir. He's on my list to call, and Brian did help train them. We're going to meet at the lease at eight. Do you want to ride with us?" I asked. "No. There's a guy here I've made friends with, Kyle. I want to invite him. He's my first real friend here in Destin," Daddy said. "That's cool. Is that Mr. Stout?" I asked. "Yeah. Dick Stout. Do you know him?" "No, sir, but have you thought about his name?" "Thought about his name?" Daddy said. There was a longish pause. "Oh, God! No, I hadn't thought about that. You are so gay, Kyle," he said. "Have I ever denied it?" "No, and you know I don't care. He won't either, if he wants to be my friend. I don't know how I got two gay sons. I guess it was just luck," he said. "They say it might be in the genes, Daddy," I said. "But I don't wear jeans. Never have," he said. I laughed. "It's your mother's side, Kyle. Tainted. Charleston. You know," he said. "Daddy, have you been drinking?" "No, I haven't touched a drop. You know that. I'm still at work." "I never touch a drop, either, Daddy," I said. "Unless it's Christmas Eve," he said. "You saw that?" "Hell, Son, we were standing next to each other at the bar, ordering drinks," he said. "Oh, yeah. I forgot about that," I said. "Kyle, I need to go, okay?" "Me, too. I love you, Daddy," I said. "I love you, too. Bye," he said. "See you Saturday." This thing was starting to shape up. I called Mr. Pat's office, told him what was up, and he was all about going. Justin came up just then and plopped down at my table. "Where you been?" I asked. We have all the same classes, but I lost him when my last class let out. "I was talking to somebody," he said. "Who were you talking to?" "Paul Womack. I hadn't seen him in a while. He laid out last semester. This is his third year here," he said. "You want to go hunting Saturday?" I asked. "Yeah. I was already planning to. Me, Brian, and Tim. Tim didn't say anything to you about that?" "No. When were y'all going to tell me? Friday night at eleven o'clock?" "Look, don't get pissed off at me. I ain't your boyfriend. If you're going to be pissed off about it, be pissed off at Tim," he said. "He must have forgot," I said. "You refuse to get pissed off at Tim, don't you?" "I get pissed off at him sometimes," I said. "This is a stupid conversation, if you ask me. But, yeah, we're all going hunting on Saturday," he said. "Good," I said, and I told him who else was going. "I've got to go check on one of my houses after our next class. Do you want to go?" I asked. "Sure," he said. "What's wrong with it?" "Nothing. I just want to see if they've started painting it yet," I said. "Oh, okay." They had almost finished painting the outside, and it looked 100% better than it did before. The inside was next. Mr. Cliff was right. I know the whole damn family. The boy working there is usually trifling as shit, but he was doing a good job painting the house. * * * I called the people who are renting the condo, and they said it would be cool for me to come over. The night before the visit, I made two coffee cakes for them and two for us, too. Tim went with me to meet them. "Hi, I'm Kyle Goodson. I called last night about coming over," I said. They are really nice people, and Tim and I stayed and visited with them for about thirty minutes. They live in the Detroit area, and they have two sons. One is "happily married" and has two children, and the other one is "happily partnered." "Is the second one gay?" I asked. "Yes, he is. He and his partner will be here in a couple of weeks," the man said. "Cool," I said. They really liked the coffee cakes I took them, or at least the idea I had made them and brought them over. They said they'd freeze one of them for when the other two guys got there. I wondered why they wanted a three-bedroom instead of a two, but I didn't ask. It turns out, though, the other son and his family were coming down, too. That's when they would need the three bedrooms. "Kyle, may I ask you a personal question?" the man said. "Sure. I don't know if I'll answer it, but you can ask it," I said. "How old are you?" "How old do you think I am?" I asked. I wanted to play with him a little bit. "I don't know. Twenty-three, twenty-four?" I looked at Tim, and I was grinning big. "You're going to give him a swelled head," Tim said. "No, sir. I'm nineteen," I said. "And you own this place?" he asked, kind of like he was surprised. "Me and the bank. Mostly the bank, at this point," I said. "I have a premonition that you're going to turn into a smart businessman, son. Congratulations," he said. "That's my goal, I guess. To be like my daddy. Ain't that every boy's goal?" I said. "Kyle," he said, real serious like. "I'm afraid not every boy has a daddy that would be worthy of emulation. You're one of the lucky ones, son. Make this boy happy." He put his hand on Tim's shoulder when he said that. "You know about us?" I asked. I was almost speechless, and I could tell Tim was surprised as hell, too. "I can see the love between you boys, son. I've been in love with my wife for over thirty-five years, so I know what it looks like. I see that same look of love with both my sons and their life partners. It's universal, for those with eyes to see it. Good luck, young men, but I have the distinct impression you've already had plenty of that. We'll call you when our two gay sons get here. I think you'll like them," he said. "If I'd have known we'd get this, I sure would have made a lot more than a couple of damn coffee cakes," I said. "Kyle, no landlord welcomes renters with a personal visit and coffee cakes. Nobody," the lady said. "This means a great deal to us. Believe me." "Well, I'm glad you like 'em. I hope they're fit to eat," I said. "She might just have to have one of them bronzed," the man said. I didn't know what that meant, but the lady laughed, so I did, too. So did Tim. "Well, I guess we need to go, so y'all can get on with unpacking and whatnot. Everything in the house works good, so you shouldn't have any problems with that. And I really would like to meet your sons," I said. "And we'd like them to meet you. Goodbye, boys," the man said. "They knew we're a couple," Tim said, once we were in the car. "Tim, we do NOT act gay. People have told me that repeatedly when they found out about us," I said. "They didn't say we act gay, whatever the hell that means. They said they could see the love between us. Do you know what that means to me, Kyle?" Tim said. "No. What?" "Everything." |