by Kelly Jensen
Next summer, he hoped to hit the trails again. He might never run, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him from getting out there and doing what he loved.
Brian stepped up behind him and reached around Mal’s shoulders to adjust his tie. “There.”
“Thanks.”
Brian was wearing a slightly less formal suit, seeing as he’d have to change later that afternoon. First up, though, they had the opening ceremony for the new LGBT youth center.
“Got your notes?” Brian asked.
“Nope.”
“No? Where are they?”
Mal tapped his head. “In here.”
Grinning, Brian kissed his temple. “All right, then. Ready to go?”
Mal checked his reflection again, this time with Brian standing at his shoulder, and smiled. “We should get a picture of us all dressed up.” A blush burned an immediate path across his cheeks. “Ah—”
“I think that’s a great idea. I’ll make sure Tom gets some of us at the wedding this afternoon. A couple with Josh too. We can hang one in the hall. You know, one of those family portraits he’ll have to lead his friends or boyfriends past to get to his room.”
“You’re evil.”
Brian showed off one of his roguish grins.
They said goodbye to Lois, piled into the car, and drove the quarter mile to the Elliott Street parking lot. Not far, but with all the walking and standing he had to do today, Mal wasn’t taking any chances. He did leave his cane in the car for the walk through the park, however.
A crowd was already gathered outside the new youth center, and Mal and Brian stopped a short distance away to admire seven months’ hard work. The old boathouse had been completely renovated, inside and out. The ramp at the rear had been torn up and the slope leading to the lake was terraced with stairs joining each level so that even in winter, people could walk down to the new dock without worrying that they’d slide into the water. The dock extended out past the current, making it safer. A lifeguard would be on duty in the summer months.
Mal sucked in a breath. They’d done this. All of this. Would he ever stop feeling amazed?
By the time he and Brian made it through the crowd to the front of the center, shaking hands and accepting congratulations, he no longer felt amazed. He was exhausted and—
“Here.” Josh handed him his cane.
Mal arched a brow in Brian’s direction.
“Thought you might need it,” Brian said with a smile.
“Thank you.”
Then Ethan appeared and claimed Josh’s hand, and the pair disappeared around the side of the building.
“Do we need to worry about what they’re doing back there?” Mal asked.
“Nope, because it’s time for you to do your thing.”
Someone bumped into Mal from behind, and a flash of silver caught his eye.
“Please don’t kill Mal with the giant scissors,” Brian said.
Pamela giggled. “Sorry, Mr. M.!”
The mayor of Morristown stepped up to the microphone and the celebration started. The mayor began in the usual way, thanking everyone for coming to the opening and thanking everyone who’d made it possible. Her remarks were brief, and for that Mal was grateful. He didn’t want his speech to duplicate hers. Then she moved aside and it was his turn.
Mal stepped up to the microphone and took a deep breath. When he exhaled, the sound system hissed. Leaning back a little, he smiled. “I wish I’d had a place like this to come to when I was a teenager. Not because I knew I was different, or because I felt alone. I didn’t. I’ve been fortunate enough to have rarely felt alienated because of my sexuality. I’ve always had the support of my family and those closest to me. I’ve enjoyed a career many would have considered inappropriate at one time.
“But though I’ve rarely felt the need to hide an important part of myself, neither have I felt encouraged to share it. For nearly thirty years, who I chose to love has been something of an open secret. Something people haven’t encouraged me to talk about. I’ve been accepted as a member of this community because I’m not loud. I’m not proud.”
Mal glanced over his shoulder at the newly restored building. “But I couldn’t be more proud of what our community has accomplished with this venture.”
Turning to the covered plaque mounted on the right to the side of the main entrance, Mal peeled away the adhesive covering. “Morristown, I give you the Kenway Center for LGBTQ Youth.”
Beside him, Brian gasped. Mal didn’t look over, because if he did, he’d probably start crying or laughing or something equally embarrassing.
“The Kenway Center is a project that we’ve all worked so hard for and the fact we were able to build it out of a place that was abandoned and almost forgotten feels meaningful. It’s as though we as a town came together and said, ‘You know what? Our kids need this. Our town needs this. Let’s do it.’
“This was a place of tragedy. A young girl lost her life here ten years ago, and one of my students nearly drowned here last winter. His guardian also. But even then, this community pulled together to save them, and we’ve turned this building into a place of hope.
“The Kenway Center is open to all youth, regardless of gender and orientation. But in particular, it’s a safe place for the kids who need it. Everyone is welcome here with the understanding that we are a community for the better.”
Mal took Brian’s hand. “If I’d had a place like this to come to when I was a kid, I might have lived more loudly. For me, now, that might not seem like it’d have made much of a difference. Like I said, I’ve had it easy. But if I’d been encouraged to be who I was at a younger age, then maybe I could have helped someone else who was having a difficult time. If I hadn’t been afraid of who I was, I could have told someone else not to be afraid.
“So, I give to you a place where our kids can be themselves. Where they can be safe. Where they can learn to be proud of who they are, and where they can learn to share that pride in helping others.”
He dipped his chin toward Pamela, and she lifted the scissors toward the red ribbon being held at each end by Leo and Kelsey. She snipped the banner, and applause broke through the quiet fall morning.
Mal tapped the microphone. “I’m going to introduce our staff, and then we’ll open the doors and everyone can head inside for coffee and some of Olive’s fabulous treats.” He beamed at the former café owner and gestured toward her. “Let’s start there. Olive is our head of catering. She’ll also be offering cooking classes.” He gestured toward Leo. “Both Olive and Leo lost their businesses earlier this year when the Billings Group demolished the Wheelhouse Building. Though we were sad to lose a piece of our town’s history, these two amazing people saw it as an opportunity to do something new. Leo is our daytime program director and is currently working on a second degree so that he can offer counseling services to those who need them.”
Leo dipped his chin to acknowledge his role and moved to step back. Mal grasped his hand and squeezed. It had been difficult to tell Leo that they hadn’t been able to save his bar, but Leo had taken the news better than expected. Turned out he’d only been holding on to the place to honor his father and felt he could do that just as well at the new youth center while actually using his psychology degree. Most of the Colonial memorabilia had been moved and now decorated the halls of the refurbished boathouse, making the place feel as though it had been a part of the community for longer than five minutes.
Mal introduced the rest of the employees and volunteers, detailing their roles and thanking them for being a part of the enterprise. His list included Rachel and Donny, of course, Kelsey, and Vanessa Smart, both of whom would be teaching art classes and running field trips.
Finally, Mal got to the last name on his list. “Donations from the community and generous grants from local businesses helped make this happen, but none of it would have been possible without the oversight of Brian Kenway. Like myself, he was not encouraged to be out and proud as a young man
, and yet he has always been there for beneficiaries of the Smart Foundation scholarships and programs. With this center, he has stepped out from behind his substantial checkbook to do what he should have been doing all along. Work with the kids.
“Brian is more than our director of operations. He’s the guy who saw a boarded-up hulk of a building and said, ‘We can make this something special.’ He’s the guy who knew the right architects, the right builders, and the right people to staff our programs. He didn’t want his name on the building, but we all decided he didn’t have a say in that. He’s running everything else, so we took that one thing away from him.”
Laughter rippled through the crowd. Brian looked as though he’d welcome the Rapture at any moment.
Mal finished with another smile and, “Thank you, everyone.”
Brian tugged on his hand, and Mal let himself be led around the corner. The students from the GSA were on hand to open the doors and invite everyone inside. This was their center, and they were ready to show it off. When Brian pressed him up against the cool brick wall on the shady side of the building and tried to melt him with a glare, Mal smiled.
“Not working.”
“I hate you right now,” Brian said.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Brian let his hands go and stepped back. “Can we change the name of the center? Put Vanessa’s or Tristan’s name on it? Yours? Hell, we could even call it the Colonial after Leo’s bar.”
“Let me think about it. Um. No.”
Brian turned a broody circle. “Why me? All I did was sign a few checks.”
Large checks. Mal had had no idea how much wealth Brian actually had because although he dressed well and drove an expensive car, he rarely spent any of it. Most of his wealth was tied in programs that benefited youth: the money left to him by Tristan Smart and a good portion of what he earned. It had been the most surprising thing Mal had learned about Brian when they decided to move in together. That and the fact he really, really liked shoes. Like, needed an entire closet just for shoes.
“It’s not only the money,” Mal said. “It’s everything else. Going to bat for us with the council, finding the right contractors. Organizing them. You did more than the rest of us.”
“Maybe it meant more to me.”
A lump rose in Mal’s throat. Statements alluding to Brian’s lack of family would always affect him this way. Ellen Kenway had signed the guardianship agreement without comment, as far as he’d heard. Mal wasn’t sure whether her wordless acquiescence was a good thing or not, though. He couldn’t imagine not being in contact with his mother and harbored hope that the relationship between brother and sister and mother and son might one day be repaired. But it was a slim hope. Ellen hadn’t responded to the invite to today’s opening.
Privately, though he grieved for Brian’s lack of family—for Josh’s situation—Mal was glad she wasn’t here. This was Brian’s day.
Brian tangled their fingers together again and squeezed. “Tristan would have loved this. Vanessa and Kelsey being involved, showing the kids art. Leo with his crazy hair and take-no-prisoners attitude. Everyone doing something not because it’s right but because they care.”
Mal smiled. “Still not putting his name on the front.”
Brian returned a nod. “This has been the most meaningful project I’ve ever taken on. Vanessa and I started The Smart Foundation and Smart Kids to honor Tristan’s memory. To try to duplicate what he’d done for me. Taking me in and helping me believe I was worthwhile. I went back to school because he convinced me it was important.”
“I’m glad.”
“But it took you to show me that I needed to do more.”
Unable to speak, Mal simply nodded. They’d done that for each other.
“Love you,” Brian said.
Mal’s heart skipped a little. The fear that never quite departed. He knew Brian loved him. Knew they were making their relationship work and that it was a new and different thing for both of them. Open, honest, warm, and loving. But Awkward Mal wasn’t laid to rest that easily.
Brian brushed a kiss across his lips. Mal leaned in, inviting a deeper kiss, and Brian delivered, as he always did. Their kisses were never casual. Brian kissed as though he meant each and every one. And that was how Mal knew Brian loved him.
Brian drew away to catch his breath and touched his palm to the side of Mal’s face. “I wanted to ask you something before we went to Vanessa’s.”
“Okay.”
“I know we’ve said we don’t need to talk about forever and ever, but . . . I want that, with you. Not because we’re going to a wedding this afternoon, or because we’ve already built so much together. But all of those things, on top of me finally feeling like I’m home. Every day. With you.”
“Brian.” Mal wanted to say more, but his throat felt too tight. He cleared it. “I . . .”
“You don’t have to say anything—”
“Yeah, I do. I . . .” Mal had to pause for another throat clearing. “I want that too. You and me for always. I love you, and I want to be a part of your life for as long as it all lasts.”
Brian’s answering smile was radiant. He was a beautiful man, but in that moment, he was transformed. Lit from within. He pulled Mal into his arms and hugged him tight. “Thank you.”
Mal circled his arms around Brian’s middle, hugging him back just as hard. “Thank you.”
“Going to be so good to you.”
“I know.”
“I mean it.”
“I know you do, Brian. I have no doubts whatsoever.”
Brian clutched him one impossible degree closer. “God, I love you.”
“I love you too.”
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Thank you so much for Reading the Rainbow!
RiptidePublishing.com
Once is chance, twice is coincidence, third time is a pattern.
Fourth time means a story.
While writing Simon and Charlie’s book, I realized that I had a habit of naming the not so lovely exes of my main characters “Brian.” I don’t really have an explanation for why. I know some very nice Brians! So I decided, then and there, even before I knew I was going write a series, that Brian needed a book. I wanted to know why he couldn’t commit. I wanted to know his story. Then Frank got a book and Brian was the last of the three, meaning I actually had to figure him out.
I’m so glad I did.
Every book in this series has been meaningful in some way. The characters have been people I’ve always wanted to write. Charlie, my SF author, Simon, my quiet architect. Frank—loud and proud. Tom—too proud, and so true. Mal is my soldier. The man who never gives up. Then there’s Brian, my enigma, my challenge. I loved figuring out what makes him tick and I love the book I’ve written for him.
Thank you to my first round readers: Eli, Lennan, Chris, and Skylar. Your feedback truly helped shape this story.
&
nbsp; A bigger thank you to Caz, for helping me knit the two halves of this book together!
Thanks to the rest of the team at Riptide for their outstanding attention to detail.
Thank you to the readers who have followed the story this far; I hope you enjoyed the journey as much as I did.
As always, thanks to the Lady Writers for being excited about this book, and for all the help with the beginning chapters.
Thank you to my family, for standing by once again. Extra thanks to my daughter for answering all my questions about school and clubs and being a teenager!
Finally, thank you to all the people who strive to make a difference for our youth, regardless of gender, sexuality, or race. I’ve dedicated this book to Brian, because I wrote it for him, but it’s for all of you too.
To See the Sun
Out in the Blue
Wrong Direction
When Was the Last Time
Best in Show
Block and Strike
This Time Forever series
Building Forever
Renewing Forever
The Counting series
Counting Fence Posts
Counting Down
Counting on You
The Chaos Station series, with Jenn Burke
Chaos Station
Lonely Shore
Skip Trace
Inversion Point
Phase Shift
The Aliens in New York series
Uncommon Ground
Purple Haze
If aliens ever do land on Earth, Kelly will not be prepared, despite having read over a hundred stories of the apocalypse. Still, she will pack her precious books into a box and carry them with her as she strives to survive. It’s what bibliophiles do.