Inside Out, page 23
“I prefer honest and sincere which is exactly what I got.”
“Is that a yes then?”
“It’s a hell yes.” I didn’t just see his joyous smile, I tasted it when I pressed my lips to his. “Let’s go home.”
“Where you can try and top me…um… I mean my proposal…um—” I pressed my lips to his for a second time to stop the nervous rambling. There was no doubt in my mind there would be some topping going on in my future, and I was also just as certain there would be a proposal for a deeper commitment between us down the road.
“Let’s go home.”
“Permutations and combinations. Who can tell me the difference?” I asked my seventh period class the Wednesday before the Thanksgiving break. They looked at me with annoyance in their eyes because they expected to goof off the last class of the day. It was a good thing Anastasia’s family got an early start to their vacation travel plans or else she’d really let me have it.
“Are you seriously giving us homework?” Ben asked.
“Did I list homework in your syllabus, Mr. Devers?”
“No, sir.”
“Then I hadn’t planned on giving you homework. I can change my mind if you like.”
“No, sir.”
“Permutations and combinations,” I repeated. “Anyone? This is the lesson we’re tackling on Monday, so I thought I would plant the seed and give it time to root.”
“Permutations and combinations are the same thing,” Jill said. “They’re groups of things that you put together to make something else.”
“You’re partially right, Ms. Skellson. The difference between permutations and combinations is the order. Permutations require a specific order where combinations do not. This theory doesn’t just apply to science. There are many recipes you can jack up if you don’t combine the ingredients in a specific order. Think about your locker combination. You all have three numbers to unlock it, correct?” They all nodded. “Can you use those same three numbers randomly or must they be in order?”
“In order,” Randy said.
“That’s an example of a permutation. Our experiments next week are going to be fun,” I said waggling my brows. “We’ll see who is paying attention and who isn’t.”
“Are we finally going to utilize the face shields?” Travis asked excitedly.
“I worry about you sometimes, Travis,” I teased. The kid was way too excited about the possibility of needing a face shield for experiments. He just laughed and shook his head. “If this were a philosophy class, we’d talk about permutations and combinations in relation to fate. Are our lives guided by preordained permutations or do we just throw in a bunch of stuff to see how it turns out? Do we have destinies or opportunities?”
“Preordained permutations,” Derrick said confidently.
“I think we just close our eyes and toss in the ingredients,” Molly Sue countered.
I hadn’t expected the kids to start debating fate vs chance in my classroom, but I wasn’t mad about it. A teacher could learn a lot about their students by listening. Before any of us realized it, the forty-five minutes had passed, and they were free for a long weekend. My heart swelled with happiness when every single kid in my class wished me a Happy Thanksgiving. Some of them even included Rome in their well-wishes.
I was excited to kick off our first holiday season together, but sad my mom had to cancel her travel plans due to some crisis at the hospital. She was devastated she didn’t get to see her boys and meet Rome, Camilla, and Manny, but promised she would be there the first weekend in December even if it meant quitting her job.
“I don’t think that’s a bad idea,” I’d told her on the phone when she called me on Monday evening. She’d sounded so upset, and it made my heart ache. “You’re miserable in your new position. I think it’s time for a big change.”
“How big?” she asked suspiciously.
“You should quit your job and move here.”
“To Whoville?” she asked.
“Mom, you’re starting to sound like Marcus,” I teased. “Yes, you should move to Blissville or Cincinnati if you prefer to stay in a bigger city. My garage apartment is paid up until February, so you could always stay there. You and Dare would go together like peas and carrots.”
“I’m not sure I want to make such a big change, J.”
“Mom, how many weeks of vacation do you have left?” I asked.
“Three,” she admitted.
“And you lose that time if you don’t take it, right?”
“Yes, but—”
“Take them, Mom. Stay in the apartment for three weeks. Get to know the people Marc and I love. Take time to breathe and bake and celebrate the holiday with us. Please.”
“That does sound heavenly.”
“While you’re here, you can update your resume and look at employment opportunities. There are tons of hospitals around here.”
“One thing at a time. I’ll inform HR that I’m taking my vacation. They can just deal with it like they expect me to every damn day.”
“That’s my mama,” I’d said proudly.
Rome had taken the entire week off to prep for the feast he planned for our guests which included Camilla’s parents. Rather than making Marc and Camilla split time between the families, Rome thought it would be a nice gesture to invite everyone. I watched in shock as my normally messy man turned into a super-neat freak when we started cleaning for company. Apparently, that meant cleaning the closets because it’s where I found him when I got home from school, not in the kitchen like I expected.
“Is there something you want to tell me?” I asked. Dolly got up from her blanket nest by the door and came to welcome me home. “Hi, baby girl. Miss me?” I cradled her against my chest and she licked my chin. “I missed you too, but I’m not licking your chin.”
“How about mine?” Rome asked, peeking around the closet door. “Hi, love.”
“Hi. What’s going on?” I asked, gesturing to the mess he’d made inside the closet.
“I’m getting ready.”
“To go back in the closet? Are you making a nest in there?”
“No,” Rome replied, rolling his eyes. “It’s part of my annual Thanksgiving cleaning ritual.”
“I don’t think Mr. and Mrs. Álvarez are planning to look in there,” I said when he disappeared out of sight. I put Dolly back down then made myself comfortable on our bed. I’d helped clean the house too, of course, but I was drawing the line at cleaning the closets when we could be making love. This was a side to him I hadn’t seen, and I found it completely adorable. “So, are you making room for new stuff?”
“No,” he said from somewhere inside his walk-in closet. I saw a shirt sail through the air and land in the pile in the center of the closet floor. That was the Rome I knew and loved. I pulled my polo over my head and dropped it beside the bed then reached for my belt. “I want everything to be tidy and organized for the New Year.”
“So you can mess it up again in a week?” I asked, shoving my pants and underwear to my thighs.
“You think you know me so well, don’t you? I’ll have you know—” Rome’s words died when he saw me working my dick up and down. He blinked a few times then licked his lips.
“You’ll have me know what?” I asked him.
I heard a crash which meant Rome dropped whatever he held in his hands. Then he practically tripped over his own two feet when he cleared the doorway. “Close your eyes, Dolly. Dad and Daddy are about to kick off this holiday right.”
Sometime later, I roused from my post-coital nap. “Do I smell burnt toast or am I having a stroke?” I asked.
Rome snorted from somewhere in the room. I sat up and saw that he was back in the closet again, and the pile of stuff in the center had tripled. He poked his head around the door and grinned. “It’s burnt toast. My handsome guy came home and distracted me, so I forgot I was toasting bread for my homemade stuffing. Luckily, I bought extra bread, but that means we’ll have to use store-bought croutons instead of my homemade ones.”
“Oh, the horror,” I gasped then yawned. “Where are you getting your energy?”
“Is that a crack about my age?”
“You know it’s not.”
“I’m just happy,” he said. “I’m going to need your help in the kitchen later. We have plenty of casseroles to prep.”
“Where are you going to bake all these casseroles? We only have the one oven, and it will be stuffed with that forty-pound turkey you got from the butcher.”
“It’s only twenty-two pounds,” he said, ducking back inside the closet. “Lily and her husband are going to her in-laws, so she said I could borrow her oven tomorrow.”
“We’re going to need a double oven,” I told him. “My mom has one, and it made the holidays so much easier for her. Or,” I said after consideration, “you could ask the guests to bring a casserole dish with them. That’s what most families do.”
“Next year,” he said, but I knew he was dismissing the idea. My grandmother was the same way. She never let anyone bring any food or clean up afterward. I’d have to work on Rome because that was just insane, especially as our lives expanded to include more people.
The feast we prepared would impress Scott Conant. I missed having my mother there so much, but we FaceTimed her so she could meet Camilla’s parents and feel like she was there with us.
“I have big news,” she said once we all finished the initial greetings.
“I’m coming to Ohio next week and won’t be leaving until after the New Year, if I leave at all.
“Julius, I’m going to accept your gracious offer and stay at your apartment while I enjoy a much-needed break.”
I was too excited to ask how she was able to stay an entire month if she only had three weeks of vacation to use. My mom was a sensible woman, and I had no reason to question her.
“No, you must stay with us,” Rome said. “I have a spare bedroom.”
“Huh-uh,” Mom said, shaking her head. “I won’t be an intrusive mother in-law. We’ll get to spend plenty of time together, but we’ll have our separate spaces too.”
“You won’t win,” I whispered to Rome when it looked like he would argue.
Seeing Rome with kids always made my heart so happy, and I looked forward to us having kids of our own. That thought reminded me of the remark I made in class about permutations and combinations. The components of the formula were the same: two men and a baby. The difference between combination and permutation was in the order. Combination implied we could adopt a baby just as we were: two men who were committed to each other. A permutation implied the components should be applied in a specific order, and for Rome and me, that would include marriage before adoption. Old fashioned, yes, but I knew it was the outcome both of us wanted.
Mama arrived the following week like she promised, and she held tight to Rome when we picked her up from the airport. They’d talked, video chatted, and texted a lot over the last few months, but it couldn’t compare to meeting in person. She cried, and Rome got choked up too. I just stood there grinning like an idiot waiting for my turn as people walked by smiling at the spectacle they made.
“I’ve waited for you for such a long time, Romeo Bradley,” my mom said, cupping his cheek.
“Mom, are you trying to steal my guy?” I asked.
“Hush,” she said, waving her hand in my general direction. “You’re even more beautiful in person.”
“I was about to say the same thing about you,” Rome said, hugging her again.
“We’re due at the Álvarez’s house for dinner in an hour. Camilla said her mom makes the best empanadas,” I said. They continued to ignore me as Mom gushed about how happy Rome made me, and he in turn told her that I was the best thing to ever happen to him.
“Oh, my heart,” Mama said, clutching her chest. Then she turned to face me. “You never stood a chance at resisting him, Son.” It was true; I hadn’t. Just like I knew she didn’t stand a chance of resisting the charm of Blissville and the lure of being close to both her sons while they built lives with the people they loved. It came as no surprise to me when Mama announced she wasn’t returning to Philly other than to sell her home. She spent part of her vacation interviewing for jobs at hospitals nearby and looking for a quaint home to buy in Blissville.
The next month flew by in a whirlwind of decorating, eating, play rehearsals, eating, parties, eating, a holiday parade, eating, shopping, and more eating. There were a lot of festivities and even more eating, but through it all there was so much love and happiness. The level of sappiness surpassed the sappiest movie ever to grace the Hallmark Channel. I mean, seriously. Two men move to a new town for fresh starts, fall in love, and live happily ever after.
As exciting as it was to be surrounded by our families, I was grateful that Rome and I carved out quite a bit of time just for us. We had plans to combine both sides of our families for one huge bash at Ashley’s on Christmas day, but Christmas Eve belonged to just us. I made an intimate dinner for two, we drank wine, exchanged gifts, and made love by the Christmas tree lights while listening to the song I recorded for Rome as one of his gifts. I had almost drifted to sleep when I noticed Rome had replaced the picture in the built-in frame on the entertainment center. Instead of Rome and Peter staring into each other’s eyes, there was a picture of us kissing on the stage the first night Rome told me he loved me.
“When did you do that?” I asked, pointing to the frame.
Rome didn’t lift his head off my chest. “A while ago,” he said sleepily. “Turns out that homophobic asshat can take a good picture.”
“Where’d you get it?”
“The Hammer,” Rome said then yawned. “Out of the blue, he emailed it to me. He said the origin of the picture shouldn’t take away from the beauty of the moment.”
“The Hammer said that?” I asked suspiciously.
“I might be paraphrasing, but it’s still the truth.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to make a big fuss out of it. I loved Peter, and I’ll always be grateful for our memories. You’re the one, Jules. You’re the love of my life, and I want everyone to see it when they come into our home. Over the years, that picture will change to show our love evolving and our lives expanding.”
I imagined a picture of us holding a baby or a toddler between us. We would kiss our child’s cheek at the same time while someone snapped a picture of us. Later, there would be us at graduations, and weddings, and every other big moment in our family’s life. Our faces and bodies would change over time, wrinkles and age spots would mar our skin, our eyes would cloud over with cataracts, and our hearing would turn to shit, but one thing would remain the same: Romeo and Julius forever.
“My bounty is as boundless as the sea. My love as deep. The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”
~William Shakespeare
“Love is the ultimate superpower. The more you love, the more you’re loved in return. Love is boundless, depthless, and knows no limits.”
~Romeo Bradley
I knew I would be emotional when I stood off to the side of the stage and watched the kids perform their heart out for our families, friends, and our community. I knew there would also be relief because Roy Halifax and his little band of haters were nowhere to be found when the sheriff went to arrest them. It turned out they were more afraid of the charges the attorney general filed against them than they were of two men in love. I wasn’t the least bit surprised, but it allowed me to forget about them and just enjoy the play that brought Julius and me together.
Every line spoken, every song that was sung, and Julius’s beautiful music performed by the high school band in the orchestra pit was precious to me and the man gripping my hand. We found ourselves holding our breath, laughing out loud, and silently cheering them on when they got to parts that worried them the most. There were plenty of mistakes made, but that happens with every performance. Lines are flubbed or forgotten, songs are sung off-key, and the band wasn’t exactly up to the same standard as Jules, but none of that mattered. It was all about the message. The kids wanted us to really see and hear them. They wanted to turn us inside out, and there wasn’t a dry eye in the theater when the last line was delivered.
When the curtains came down, Clara, Ellie, and Curtis bull-rushed us, nearly knocking us over.
“Thank you so much,” Curtis said through his tears. “This means everything to us.”
“We love you, Dr. Bradley and Mr. S., but not in a creepy way,” Clara said.
“Yeah, what they said,” Ellie added.
The performers gathered behind the red velvet curtains waiting for their curtain call while the crowd continued to cheer wildly.
“Thank you for letting us be part of something special,” Julius told them.
“The message in your play is bigger than the three of you, or even the five of us,” I told them. “This is something everyone can relate to regardless of how they look, their financial situation, or how they love. We’re proud to have played a role in making this play a reality.”
Over their heads, I saw the curtain go up and the actors join hands and take their bow. The cheers got even louder so they bowed again. Mark Vaughn stood at the end of the front row, and he turned and waved for the five of us to join them.
“Should we?” Ellie asked, biting her lip.
“The three of you need to go out there and receive the praise for what you created,” I said. “Smile big because Channel Eleven is here.”
“What?” Clara asked.
“Didn’t I tell you that?” They shook their heads. “Huh, I guess we can keep some secrets in this town after all.” I had to obtain signed permission from their parents to allow the news channel to record the production and for the interviews with The Hammer that were to follow during the after-party. He wanted to do a special about these kids, their message, and how the small town of Blissville turned out to love and support them. “Go on and take the stage.”
Ellie’s chin wobbled as she pulled her best friends with her onto the stage. I didn’t think the crowd could get any louder, but I was wrong. They waved to the audience, took a bow like the performers, then turned to face us. Clara, Ellie, and Curtis waved their hands for us to join them too.
“Is that a yes then?”
“It’s a hell yes.” I didn’t just see his joyous smile, I tasted it when I pressed my lips to his. “Let’s go home.”
“Where you can try and top me…um… I mean my proposal…um—” I pressed my lips to his for a second time to stop the nervous rambling. There was no doubt in my mind there would be some topping going on in my future, and I was also just as certain there would be a proposal for a deeper commitment between us down the road.
“Let’s go home.”
“Permutations and combinations. Who can tell me the difference?” I asked my seventh period class the Wednesday before the Thanksgiving break. They looked at me with annoyance in their eyes because they expected to goof off the last class of the day. It was a good thing Anastasia’s family got an early start to their vacation travel plans or else she’d really let me have it.
“Are you seriously giving us homework?” Ben asked.
“Did I list homework in your syllabus, Mr. Devers?”
“No, sir.”
“Then I hadn’t planned on giving you homework. I can change my mind if you like.”
“No, sir.”
“Permutations and combinations,” I repeated. “Anyone? This is the lesson we’re tackling on Monday, so I thought I would plant the seed and give it time to root.”
“Permutations and combinations are the same thing,” Jill said. “They’re groups of things that you put together to make something else.”
“You’re partially right, Ms. Skellson. The difference between permutations and combinations is the order. Permutations require a specific order where combinations do not. This theory doesn’t just apply to science. There are many recipes you can jack up if you don’t combine the ingredients in a specific order. Think about your locker combination. You all have three numbers to unlock it, correct?” They all nodded. “Can you use those same three numbers randomly or must they be in order?”
“In order,” Randy said.
“That’s an example of a permutation. Our experiments next week are going to be fun,” I said waggling my brows. “We’ll see who is paying attention and who isn’t.”
“Are we finally going to utilize the face shields?” Travis asked excitedly.
“I worry about you sometimes, Travis,” I teased. The kid was way too excited about the possibility of needing a face shield for experiments. He just laughed and shook his head. “If this were a philosophy class, we’d talk about permutations and combinations in relation to fate. Are our lives guided by preordained permutations or do we just throw in a bunch of stuff to see how it turns out? Do we have destinies or opportunities?”
“Preordained permutations,” Derrick said confidently.
“I think we just close our eyes and toss in the ingredients,” Molly Sue countered.
I hadn’t expected the kids to start debating fate vs chance in my classroom, but I wasn’t mad about it. A teacher could learn a lot about their students by listening. Before any of us realized it, the forty-five minutes had passed, and they were free for a long weekend. My heart swelled with happiness when every single kid in my class wished me a Happy Thanksgiving. Some of them even included Rome in their well-wishes.
I was excited to kick off our first holiday season together, but sad my mom had to cancel her travel plans due to some crisis at the hospital. She was devastated she didn’t get to see her boys and meet Rome, Camilla, and Manny, but promised she would be there the first weekend in December even if it meant quitting her job.
“I don’t think that’s a bad idea,” I’d told her on the phone when she called me on Monday evening. She’d sounded so upset, and it made my heart ache. “You’re miserable in your new position. I think it’s time for a big change.”
“How big?” she asked suspiciously.
“You should quit your job and move here.”
“To Whoville?” she asked.
“Mom, you’re starting to sound like Marcus,” I teased. “Yes, you should move to Blissville or Cincinnati if you prefer to stay in a bigger city. My garage apartment is paid up until February, so you could always stay there. You and Dare would go together like peas and carrots.”
“I’m not sure I want to make such a big change, J.”
“Mom, how many weeks of vacation do you have left?” I asked.
“Three,” she admitted.
“And you lose that time if you don’t take it, right?”
“Yes, but—”
“Take them, Mom. Stay in the apartment for three weeks. Get to know the people Marc and I love. Take time to breathe and bake and celebrate the holiday with us. Please.”
“That does sound heavenly.”
“While you’re here, you can update your resume and look at employment opportunities. There are tons of hospitals around here.”
“One thing at a time. I’ll inform HR that I’m taking my vacation. They can just deal with it like they expect me to every damn day.”
“That’s my mama,” I’d said proudly.
Rome had taken the entire week off to prep for the feast he planned for our guests which included Camilla’s parents. Rather than making Marc and Camilla split time between the families, Rome thought it would be a nice gesture to invite everyone. I watched in shock as my normally messy man turned into a super-neat freak when we started cleaning for company. Apparently, that meant cleaning the closets because it’s where I found him when I got home from school, not in the kitchen like I expected.
“Is there something you want to tell me?” I asked. Dolly got up from her blanket nest by the door and came to welcome me home. “Hi, baby girl. Miss me?” I cradled her against my chest and she licked my chin. “I missed you too, but I’m not licking your chin.”
“How about mine?” Rome asked, peeking around the closet door. “Hi, love.”
“Hi. What’s going on?” I asked, gesturing to the mess he’d made inside the closet.
“I’m getting ready.”
“To go back in the closet? Are you making a nest in there?”
“No,” Rome replied, rolling his eyes. “It’s part of my annual Thanksgiving cleaning ritual.”
“I don’t think Mr. and Mrs. Álvarez are planning to look in there,” I said when he disappeared out of sight. I put Dolly back down then made myself comfortable on our bed. I’d helped clean the house too, of course, but I was drawing the line at cleaning the closets when we could be making love. This was a side to him I hadn’t seen, and I found it completely adorable. “So, are you making room for new stuff?”
“No,” he said from somewhere inside his walk-in closet. I saw a shirt sail through the air and land in the pile in the center of the closet floor. That was the Rome I knew and loved. I pulled my polo over my head and dropped it beside the bed then reached for my belt. “I want everything to be tidy and organized for the New Year.”
“So you can mess it up again in a week?” I asked, shoving my pants and underwear to my thighs.
“You think you know me so well, don’t you? I’ll have you know—” Rome’s words died when he saw me working my dick up and down. He blinked a few times then licked his lips.
“You’ll have me know what?” I asked him.
I heard a crash which meant Rome dropped whatever he held in his hands. Then he practically tripped over his own two feet when he cleared the doorway. “Close your eyes, Dolly. Dad and Daddy are about to kick off this holiday right.”
Sometime later, I roused from my post-coital nap. “Do I smell burnt toast or am I having a stroke?” I asked.
Rome snorted from somewhere in the room. I sat up and saw that he was back in the closet again, and the pile of stuff in the center had tripled. He poked his head around the door and grinned. “It’s burnt toast. My handsome guy came home and distracted me, so I forgot I was toasting bread for my homemade stuffing. Luckily, I bought extra bread, but that means we’ll have to use store-bought croutons instead of my homemade ones.”
“Oh, the horror,” I gasped then yawned. “Where are you getting your energy?”
“Is that a crack about my age?”
“You know it’s not.”
“I’m just happy,” he said. “I’m going to need your help in the kitchen later. We have plenty of casseroles to prep.”
“Where are you going to bake all these casseroles? We only have the one oven, and it will be stuffed with that forty-pound turkey you got from the butcher.”
“It’s only twenty-two pounds,” he said, ducking back inside the closet. “Lily and her husband are going to her in-laws, so she said I could borrow her oven tomorrow.”
“We’re going to need a double oven,” I told him. “My mom has one, and it made the holidays so much easier for her. Or,” I said after consideration, “you could ask the guests to bring a casserole dish with them. That’s what most families do.”
“Next year,” he said, but I knew he was dismissing the idea. My grandmother was the same way. She never let anyone bring any food or clean up afterward. I’d have to work on Rome because that was just insane, especially as our lives expanded to include more people.
The feast we prepared would impress Scott Conant. I missed having my mother there so much, but we FaceTimed her so she could meet Camilla’s parents and feel like she was there with us.
“I have big news,” she said once we all finished the initial greetings.
“I’m coming to Ohio next week and won’t be leaving until after the New Year, if I leave at all.
“Julius, I’m going to accept your gracious offer and stay at your apartment while I enjoy a much-needed break.”
I was too excited to ask how she was able to stay an entire month if she only had three weeks of vacation to use. My mom was a sensible woman, and I had no reason to question her.
“No, you must stay with us,” Rome said. “I have a spare bedroom.”
“Huh-uh,” Mom said, shaking her head. “I won’t be an intrusive mother in-law. We’ll get to spend plenty of time together, but we’ll have our separate spaces too.”
“You won’t win,” I whispered to Rome when it looked like he would argue.
Seeing Rome with kids always made my heart so happy, and I looked forward to us having kids of our own. That thought reminded me of the remark I made in class about permutations and combinations. The components of the formula were the same: two men and a baby. The difference between combination and permutation was in the order. Combination implied we could adopt a baby just as we were: two men who were committed to each other. A permutation implied the components should be applied in a specific order, and for Rome and me, that would include marriage before adoption. Old fashioned, yes, but I knew it was the outcome both of us wanted.
Mama arrived the following week like she promised, and she held tight to Rome when we picked her up from the airport. They’d talked, video chatted, and texted a lot over the last few months, but it couldn’t compare to meeting in person. She cried, and Rome got choked up too. I just stood there grinning like an idiot waiting for my turn as people walked by smiling at the spectacle they made.
“I’ve waited for you for such a long time, Romeo Bradley,” my mom said, cupping his cheek.
“Mom, are you trying to steal my guy?” I asked.
“Hush,” she said, waving her hand in my general direction. “You’re even more beautiful in person.”
“I was about to say the same thing about you,” Rome said, hugging her again.
“We’re due at the Álvarez’s house for dinner in an hour. Camilla said her mom makes the best empanadas,” I said. They continued to ignore me as Mom gushed about how happy Rome made me, and he in turn told her that I was the best thing to ever happen to him.
“Oh, my heart,” Mama said, clutching her chest. Then she turned to face me. “You never stood a chance at resisting him, Son.” It was true; I hadn’t. Just like I knew she didn’t stand a chance of resisting the charm of Blissville and the lure of being close to both her sons while they built lives with the people they loved. It came as no surprise to me when Mama announced she wasn’t returning to Philly other than to sell her home. She spent part of her vacation interviewing for jobs at hospitals nearby and looking for a quaint home to buy in Blissville.
The next month flew by in a whirlwind of decorating, eating, play rehearsals, eating, parties, eating, a holiday parade, eating, shopping, and more eating. There were a lot of festivities and even more eating, but through it all there was so much love and happiness. The level of sappiness surpassed the sappiest movie ever to grace the Hallmark Channel. I mean, seriously. Two men move to a new town for fresh starts, fall in love, and live happily ever after.
As exciting as it was to be surrounded by our families, I was grateful that Rome and I carved out quite a bit of time just for us. We had plans to combine both sides of our families for one huge bash at Ashley’s on Christmas day, but Christmas Eve belonged to just us. I made an intimate dinner for two, we drank wine, exchanged gifts, and made love by the Christmas tree lights while listening to the song I recorded for Rome as one of his gifts. I had almost drifted to sleep when I noticed Rome had replaced the picture in the built-in frame on the entertainment center. Instead of Rome and Peter staring into each other’s eyes, there was a picture of us kissing on the stage the first night Rome told me he loved me.
“When did you do that?” I asked, pointing to the frame.
Rome didn’t lift his head off my chest. “A while ago,” he said sleepily. “Turns out that homophobic asshat can take a good picture.”
“Where’d you get it?”
“The Hammer,” Rome said then yawned. “Out of the blue, he emailed it to me. He said the origin of the picture shouldn’t take away from the beauty of the moment.”
“The Hammer said that?” I asked suspiciously.
“I might be paraphrasing, but it’s still the truth.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to make a big fuss out of it. I loved Peter, and I’ll always be grateful for our memories. You’re the one, Jules. You’re the love of my life, and I want everyone to see it when they come into our home. Over the years, that picture will change to show our love evolving and our lives expanding.”
I imagined a picture of us holding a baby or a toddler between us. We would kiss our child’s cheek at the same time while someone snapped a picture of us. Later, there would be us at graduations, and weddings, and every other big moment in our family’s life. Our faces and bodies would change over time, wrinkles and age spots would mar our skin, our eyes would cloud over with cataracts, and our hearing would turn to shit, but one thing would remain the same: Romeo and Julius forever.
“My bounty is as boundless as the sea. My love as deep. The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”
~William Shakespeare
“Love is the ultimate superpower. The more you love, the more you’re loved in return. Love is boundless, depthless, and knows no limits.”
~Romeo Bradley
I knew I would be emotional when I stood off to the side of the stage and watched the kids perform their heart out for our families, friends, and our community. I knew there would also be relief because Roy Halifax and his little band of haters were nowhere to be found when the sheriff went to arrest them. It turned out they were more afraid of the charges the attorney general filed against them than they were of two men in love. I wasn’t the least bit surprised, but it allowed me to forget about them and just enjoy the play that brought Julius and me together.
Every line spoken, every song that was sung, and Julius’s beautiful music performed by the high school band in the orchestra pit was precious to me and the man gripping my hand. We found ourselves holding our breath, laughing out loud, and silently cheering them on when they got to parts that worried them the most. There were plenty of mistakes made, but that happens with every performance. Lines are flubbed or forgotten, songs are sung off-key, and the band wasn’t exactly up to the same standard as Jules, but none of that mattered. It was all about the message. The kids wanted us to really see and hear them. They wanted to turn us inside out, and there wasn’t a dry eye in the theater when the last line was delivered.
When the curtains came down, Clara, Ellie, and Curtis bull-rushed us, nearly knocking us over.
“Thank you so much,” Curtis said through his tears. “This means everything to us.”
“We love you, Dr. Bradley and Mr. S., but not in a creepy way,” Clara said.
“Yeah, what they said,” Ellie added.
The performers gathered behind the red velvet curtains waiting for their curtain call while the crowd continued to cheer wildly.
“Thank you for letting us be part of something special,” Julius told them.
“The message in your play is bigger than the three of you, or even the five of us,” I told them. “This is something everyone can relate to regardless of how they look, their financial situation, or how they love. We’re proud to have played a role in making this play a reality.”
Over their heads, I saw the curtain go up and the actors join hands and take their bow. The cheers got even louder so they bowed again. Mark Vaughn stood at the end of the front row, and he turned and waved for the five of us to join them.
“Should we?” Ellie asked, biting her lip.
“The three of you need to go out there and receive the praise for what you created,” I said. “Smile big because Channel Eleven is here.”
“What?” Clara asked.
“Didn’t I tell you that?” They shook their heads. “Huh, I guess we can keep some secrets in this town after all.” I had to obtain signed permission from their parents to allow the news channel to record the production and for the interviews with The Hammer that were to follow during the after-party. He wanted to do a special about these kids, their message, and how the small town of Blissville turned out to love and support them. “Go on and take the stage.”
Ellie’s chin wobbled as she pulled her best friends with her onto the stage. I didn’t think the crowd could get any louder, but I was wrong. They waved to the audience, took a bow like the performers, then turned to face us. Clara, Ellie, and Curtis waved their hands for us to join them too.
