Destination, Wedding!

by Xavier Mayne

  “Awkward disclosures are part of the boyfriend experience, Trev,” Sandler replied as he got up. From somewhere under the covers a pillow sailed at his head, glancing off and landing on the floor.

  “I’ll tell Imre you’re on your way,” Donnelly said, looking away from Sandler’s naked silhouette.

  “No, hang on a minute. How did Imre seem? He told me to get in touch if I ever needed him, but I feel like I asked him for a huge favor right away.” Sandler walked past Donnelly on his way to the bathroom. He switched on the light and stood before the toilet, the door wide open.

  Standing just outside the bathroom, Donnelly focused on Sandler’s face in the mirror, but the memory of Sandler’s sweat-glossed body thrusting powerfully into Ankur on the balcony of the ship flooded his consciousness. He was growing erect before he could even answer Sandler’s question. “He seemed happy to be here, actually,” Donnelly said, raising his voice to be heard over the waterfall Sandler was making. “I think he’ll be glad to help out.”

  “That’s awesome,” Sandler replied, the muscles in his arm flexing into view as he vigorously shook something just out of Donnelly’s range of sight. He walked over to the sink to wash his hands, and to splash some water on his face.

  This, of course, gave Donnelly the reverse view, which aroused memories similar to the ones occasioned by seeing the front. He cleared his throat. “Are you going to get dressed before you go out there? I’m not sure this is what Imre came to see.”

  Sandler smiled as he dried his face. “You don’t think he’d be even more willing to help if I met him like this?” he teased.

  “Let’s try to maintain at least a semblance of decorum, please?” Donnelly said, though Sandler’s infectious good mood was making him smile. “I’ll go tell him you’ll be right out.”

  “Thanks,” Sandler said, and then he padded across the room to sort out his clothes.

  Donnelly stepped back out into the sitting room, where he found Brandt and Imre standing before the window, talking.

  “And then he told me that he used to be straight, which I had honestly never heard of happening before. But now, meeting you, I’d have to guess that he’s not the only one.”

  Brandt laughed. “We are each other’s first and only,” he said, smiling at Donnelly as he approached.

  “I leave you alone for two minutes,” Donnelly groused. “Honestly.”

  “I simply asked how you and Imre met,” Brandt replied, holding up his hands innocently. “Turns out there was quite a tale of intrigue there.”

  “Don’t worry,” Imre leaned toward Donnelly and stage-whispered, “I didn’t tell him about the kiss.”

  “Kiss?” Brandt asked, eyebrow up.

  Donnelly sighed. “Sandler had this crackpot scheme for me to get close to Imre and find out if he knew anything about the missing pouch.”

  “And he acquitted himself quite well, I must say,” Imre added. “But he made it clear nothing more was to follow that one kiss… that one magical kiss… under the stars, on a balcony overlooking the sea.”

  Donnelly could feel the heat rising in his cheeks.

  “That’s my boy,” Brandt said with a proud grin. “Those lips could kiss secrets out of a marble statue.”

  Donnelly beamed at the man he loved more than anything in the world.

  “Now, where is Birkin? I am intrigued beyond reason by this thicket he seems to have waded into.”

  “He’ll be out in a minute,” Donnelly replied. “It’s all a bit convoluted, but the short version is that his first love was being held captive by his homophobic parents, who nursed him back to health after a car accident but now seem determined to drug him into being heterosexual. So, with his consent, we abducted him. He’s here with Sandler now.”

  “Oh. My,” Imre said, frowning over this précis. “Birkin’s message hardly hinted at anything quite so dramatic—he mentioned only a court hearing. You do seem to stumble into the odd improbable muddle, don’t you?”

  Donnelly and Brandt raised their coffee cups to each other in silent salute to the messes they kept stepping into.

  The bedroom door swung open, and Sandler hurried into the room. “Imre, you are so good to come.” He held out his hand, but Imre set his coffee cup down and they embraced instead.

  “After what happened on the ship, it is the very least I could do. Donnelly has given me a hair-raising hint of what you’re going through. I have, as you might imagine, some questions.”

  “I’m sure you do,” Sandler replied. “Why don’t we order in some breakfast, and we can all sit down together and get this sorted?”

  “Get more bacon this time!” came Kerry’s voice from the other bedroom. The door flew open, and Kerry swept into the room, having accomplished her now customary roll-out-of-bed-and-look-fabulous routine. “Morning, love.” She danced over to Brandt and laid a smooch on his cheek. “And good morning to you.” She kissed Donnelly on the cheek and then squeezed his biceps. “Rawrrr!” she growled, winking at him.

  Imre’s eyebrows shot up. “So we’re still a little bit straight, are we?” he asked the troopers as he and Sandler settled onto the sofa.

  “Oh honey, ain’t no one straight around this girl.” She smiled at him as she poured herself some coffee. “And good morning to you, sweetie,” she cried, making her way over to Sandler. “How’s our boy? Did he sleep well?” She laid a kiss on his cheek as well.

  “He’s exhausted. He woke up screaming three times, which according to the Google search I did at two in the morning when he did it the first time, is actually pretty good for someone who’s just been freed from captivity. The rest of the night he just held on to me like a baby koala.” He grinned. “It was absolutely awesome.”

  “That’s terrific,” she said. “He deserves to be loved by someone as good as you.”

  Sandler blushed, then realized he had let his social obligations drop. “Imre, this is Kerry Mercer, a dear friend and coconspirator. Kerry, this is Imre Romanov, the cultural attaché to the British mission in New York. He’s kindly offered to help us prepare for tomorrow.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Imre,” Kerry said. She seemed surprised when he rose gracefully and took her hand. He brought it to his lips. “Enchantée,” she said, utterly glowing at his attention.

  “Moi aussi, bien sûr,” he replied, kissing her hand again.

  Kerry dissolved into giggles and sat down on the sofa on the other side of Sandler. Imre sat as well.

  “Now, Birkin, tell me what this hearing tomorrow is about,” Imre said.

  “We’re going to convince a judge to release Trevor from his parents’ control. Because he was partially paralyzed in a car accident when we were in high school, they’ve been able to completely control him. They’re convinced that being gay is a mental disorder, and so they’ve been dragging him from doctor to doctor. For a long time, they kept him drugged up on prescription psych drugs, trying to ‘cure’ his basic humanity. Once he caught on to what they were doing, he started cutting back on the dosage himself, and over the last few years had been only pretending to swallow the pills they gave him. He got very good at faking a near-catatonic state.”

  “That’s horrid,” Imre said, his face transforming from rapt attention to barely contained outrage as Sandler spoke. “How have they been allowed to do this?”

  “He was in a coma for months after the accident, and his recovery was slow. Because he was unable to care for himself when he turned eighteen, they got a power of attorney that allowed them to make all of his medical decisions.”

  “But surely some authority must have reviewed his case at some point?”

  “They had to justify the conservatorship every couple of years, but it was apparently pretty easy to convince a judge that he was still dependent on them. The last time, one of the specialists who examined him dissented, but they were able to get him overruled—they just hired new ‘experts’ who were more devoted to consulting fees than to the well-being of their patient.�
� He shook his head, still clearly disturbed by what Trevor had been through.

  “I cannot see why a magistrate would order him back into such horrible abuse,” Imre said. “Do you expect to face any serious challenge to his release?”

  “There may be ‘expert’ testimony on the other side,” Brandt said from across the sitting room. “Trevor’s parents brought him here to have him treated by a doctor who specializes in chemically altering the sexual identity of young gay men. We have to assume he will be there, testifying on the parents’ behalf.”

  “Gay reparative therapy?” Imre asked, clearly astounded. “At the risk of sounding juvenile, I have to ask—that’s still a thing?”

  “Sadly, it seems to be,” Donnelly said. “The director of the clinic seemed skeptical, and we hoped he would help us stop the treatment. But when push comes to shove, professional courtesy apparently takes precedence over the Hippocratic oath, and he may end up standing with the doctor.”

  “So what we need is our own experts,” Imre concluded. “Backed up, of course, by an attorney who will utterly destroy whomever they have on their side.”

  “Now we’re talking,” Sandler cried joyfully. “I knew you’d be able to help us.”

  “I think with a few phone calls I’ll be able to assemble the right team.” Imre pursed his lips and pondered for a moment. “Yes, we should be able to take care of this without much difficulty.”

  “I could kiss you,” Sandler replied, glowing.

  “I rather wish you would,” Imre said with a wink.

  WHEN THE breakfast cart was rolled into the suite, Sandler went to wake Trevor. “He’s had a steady diet of pureed vegetables and parental disapproval, so I think he’ll light up when he sees this spread.”

  Imre watched him go. “He’s a changed man,” he said wonderingly.

  “When I met him at the airport—wow, was that only two weeks ago?—he seemed… unsettled, I guess? He certainly didn’t seem unhappy,” Donnelly said.

  “Birkin has a bit of a unique reputation among the diplomatic community,” Imre replied. “As a man he’s personable and pleasant enough, but as a courier he’s superhuman. I’ve often thought that without a package in his hands, he’s a dear man but a little lost. Once he puts on that messenger pouch, though, he’s focused like a laser, and no one ever doubts that his delivery will come through.” He fell silent for a moment. “Now it makes sense.”

  “How’s that?” Brandt asked.

  “He couldn’t care for the one he loved, so he lavished that devotion on the parcels entrusted to his care. And Ankur, of course,” he added, winking at Donnelly, who laughed at the allusion. “I am delighted to find him fulfilled in this way.”

  Donnelly had summarized for Imre the major events in the case by the time the door to the smaller bedroom opened. Trevor, looking strong and happy, rolled out under his own power, followed by a beaming Sandler.

  “Imre, I’d like you to meet Trevor Hendricks, the love of my life.”

  Trevor glanced up at Sandler, a look of embarrassed adoration on his face. “I’m very happy to meet you, Imre,” he said.

  “I imagine after what you’ve been through, you’re happy to meet anyone at all,” Imre replied, smiling warmly as he crossed the room to shake Trevor’s hand.

  “I’ve been so lucky,” Trevor replied. “All of Sandler’s friends have been just amazing to help me the way they have.”

  “Let’s get you some breakfast,” Sandler said, wheeling Trevor over to the breakfast trolley.

  “Go easy the first time,” Donnelly advised. “Give your stomach a chance to get used to freedom.”

  “Gabriel’s got the mom thing pretty much down,” Brandt cracked.

  “I think he’s awesome,” Trevor replied. “He was the first real person I’d seen in years, and less than twenty-four hours later, I’m free. I’d be happy to have him as my new mom.”

  “If that would make Brandt your daddy, I’d be totally on board,” Sandler added, teasing Brandt for the first time since they’d met.

  Brandt repaid the gesture with a furious scowl, which quickly dissolved into a grin. Then he blew Sandler a kiss.

  “Stop it, you two,” Donnelly scolded. “We have work to do and cannot be distracted by cuteness-induced boners.”

  A silence fell across the room.

  “Or is that just me?” Donnelly deadpanned.

  “Nope,” Imre replied, inspiring a high five from Kerry.

  “Rock-hard ladyboner,” she said with a laugh.

  Once the laughter in the room had died down, Imre asked if he could make some calls in the larger bedroom. He disappeared for about ten minutes, then returned to finish his breakfast.

  “We have twenty-four hours until the hearing,” Brandt announced. “How about we brainstorm some strategy?”

  “We could do that,” Imre replied. “Or we could just cut to the chase, and I’ll tell you what we need to do.”

  Donnelly turned to see how Brandt would handle someone else wanting to take the reins.

  “That would be fantastic,” Brandt said, relief evident in his voice. “The floor is yours, Imre. Tell us what to do, and we’ll get it done.”

  “Thank you, Ethan,” Imre said. “Item the first, we need to get Trevor to a professional.”

  “Great idea,” Sandler said. “We should make sure we’re prepared for all of their medical objections.”

  “Oh, no,” Imre replied. “I meant we need to get him to a tailor. He must wear an immaculate suit for the hearing tomorrow. As luck would have it, I have the name of the best bespoke tailor in Geneva, as well as a name to drop at his shop that will get him stitching forthwith. You’ll hie yourselves thither as soon as we have breakfasted.”

  “A suit?” Sandler asked, his face a mask of stupefaction.

  “Yes. What we need to show the judge tomorrow is a confident, fully capable young man ready to attend to his own affairs. That may be more important than the medical evaluation.”

  “Do you really think the judge is going to be swayed by something like his clothes?” Brandt, who seemed to be having second thoughts about relinquishing the reins, asked.

  “Well, to some small extent the judge may be, but then again maybe not. But the attorneys and experts on the other side will surely attempt to paint him as a broken, psychotic half-wit who will wilt in the glare of everyday life. If they must make that argument while looking at this strapping lad in his sharply tailored suit, they will appear quite foolish. And, more to the point, they will feel themselves to appear foolish. Break the attorney’s spirit and you break his case.”

  “Yes, let’s do that,” Trevor said. “I like the breaking part.”

  Imre chuckled. “Agreed. Item the second, we must indeed get you to a doctor whose reputation is beyond reproach for a complete examination. And then to a second one. And a third if we have the time.”

  “Sounds awesome,” Trevor said, his enthusiasm quickly fading.

  “It’ll be okay,” Sandler said, stroking Trevor’s arm. “Your mom won’t be there telling lies to the doctors. They’ll actually be trying to help you. And I’ll be with you every second.”

  Trevor set his jaw and nodded, clearly grateful for the support.

  “Item the third,” Imre continued, “we will meet with a legal team based here in Geneva that has a fearsome reputation when it comes to constitutional issues. By the time they finish filing in to the hearing tomorrow, the lawyers on the other side will have soiled themselves.”

  “Now you’re talking,” Trevor cheered, his spirits revived.

  Imre turned to Kerry. “Gabriel mentioned you have some particular expertise when it comes to this ‘procedure’ that Trevor was brought here to undergo.”

  “I do,” she replied, turning serious in an instant. “I work for the company that makes the drug, and we’d very much like him to stop using it.”

  Imre nodded, then turned to Brandt. “And am I to understand that you were somehow able to convince a c
hief inspector of the cantonal police to turn a blind eye to Trevor’s disappearance?”

  Brandt shrugged modestly. “Well, I wasn’t working alone. Kerry and I did a sort of good-cop bad-cop thing. She goaded Trevor’s mom into an incoherent rage, and I simply gave the chief inspector a credible way to walk back the entire thing.”

  “Brilliant,” cheered Imre. “That’s exactly what the attorneys need to hear. Would you and Kerry accompany me to their office this morning?”

  Both Kerry and Brandt nodded enthusiastically.

  “Excellent,” Imre pronounced, then lifted his arm and looked at his watch. “It is now nine-fifteen. The tailor’s opens at ten. Gabriel, will you order a car and accompany Birkin and Trevor?”

  “Of course,” Donnelly replied, setting aside his half-eaten breakfast to reach for the phone.

  “Keep the car with you, and I will send you an itinerary of physician visits as soon as I have made those arrangements.”

  Donnelly acknowledged this instruction with a thumbs-up, then dialed the front desk.

  “Our appointment with the attorneys is at eleven,” Imre continued, looking to Kerry and Brandt, who nodded. “I expect we will be engaged there for the rest of the day.” He looked around the room. “Is everyone clear on the plan?”

  A resounding affirmation was heard from everyone except Trevor, who raised his hand as if he were a student in a boisterous class.

  “Questions, Trevor?” Imre asked.

  “Not a question, really,” Trevor began, his voice hushed. “I just want to say… how much I appreciate….” He wiped his eyes and, with a great sniffle, continued, “I just want to thank you all for doing so much for me. I can’t believe… I can’t believe this is my life.”

  “It is now, buddy,” Sandler said, tears in his eyes as well. He ruffled Trevor’s hair, then ran his fingers down and stroked his neck.

  “Let’s get to it, then,” Brandt announced, standing. The group dispersed, eager to prepare for battle.

  AT PRECISELY ten o’clock, Donnelly stood by the open door of the town car while Sandler rolled Trevor alongside.