Tom and Jeordi looked at Hank, who nodded and smiled.
“Holy fuck,” Tom whispered to Jeordi.
“Is that all right?” Jeordi asked. “Is there a problem? Is it… legal?”
“You can’t get much more legal than that, honey,” she said with a smile.
Ten minutes later they held in their hand three official copies of their marriage certificate. Hank insisted on more pictures, clicking away.
As they were exiting the building, Jeordi leaned over to Bill and said, “He likes to take pictures, doesn’t he?”
“He does. And he’s damned good at it. He’s been doing it for a long, long time.”
“What time is your flight back?” Hank asked when they were in the car but still parked.
“Um, nine o’clock,” Jeordi said.
“Perfect. Home, Bill. I need to take care of a couple of things, and Bill is going to see about getting us all something wonderful to eat.”
“Um, you don’t have to—”
“Nonsense,” Hank said before Jeordi could even get the words out. We’re family, and we take care of one another. That’s one of the first rules of being gay. Remember it, live it, and you’ll have a great life.”
“Okay,” Tom said, smiling. “Thank you, for… everything. I can’t believe it all. I’m going to be thinking of this for years, each time realizing something I missed the first time.”
Hank and Bill’s house was in the Georgetown neighborhood of the city, an older part of the area with absolutely incredible older homes. The one Hank and Bill shared was the grandest home either Tom or Jeordi had ever seen.
Bill gave them a brief tour, Hank disappearing immediately to go do something else. Ending up back in the kitchen, which was perhaps larger than their entire trailer, Jeordi and Tom seated themselves at the counter and talked with Bill while he cooked, preparing things they couldn’t identify but that smelled fantastic.
An hour later the four of them sat at the dining room table to a meal unlike any in which Tom and Jeordi had ever participated. There were cloth napkins at each place, the silverware was intricately carved, the dishes on which the food was served were all similar but slightly different, appearing to be hand painted.
“My God, this is wonderful,” Tom said after a couple of bites.
“Oh wow,” Jeordi said, echoing Tom’s observation.
“Isn’t he a good cook?” Hank asked with a smile.
“I’ll say,” Jeordi said.
“Can I ask—?”
“Anything, little one,” Hank said.
“These plates. They’re beautiful. Is there a story behind them?”
“I love this set. We bought them on our last trip to Turkey. There was an artisan whose work we both adored, and we decided we simply had to have some of his work, so we bought this set.”
“Turkey?” Jeordi said. “Turkey, as in the Middle East?”
“Not quite the Middle East, but Middle East adjacent at least,” Hank said with a smile. “A truly magnificent place to visit, one of my favorites of our world travels.”
Jeordi nodded, stashing that bit of information away for future reference.
The remainder of their afternoon passed faster than seemed possible, Hank disappearing again before dessert was served along with coffee and tea in a room they called the “drawing room,” for some reason. An excited Hank dashed in at six o’clock and handed a large book to Jeordi and Tom. Sitting together, they flipped the cover back and saw a photo from their wedding. Flipping the pages, they found another, and another, then another. The entire volume was filled with photos from their day, primarily the wedding ceremony and afterward but including a couple of them at the courthouse with license in hand from that morning. And they were good—really good.
“Oh… wow.”
“Sorry it’s not better put together, but I was working under some serious time constraints. We need to leave to get you two to the airport so you can catch your flight. Traffic at this time of day will be… um, intense. You’ll find a digital copy of all of the photos on a CD tucked into the back of the book.”
“How can we ever thank you for everything you’ve done?” Jeordi said.
“By simply passing it on down the line when you find another gay brother or sister in need someday.”
“Okay.”
“And while I hate to cut this short, to get you onto your flight, we need to leave and head for the airport.”
When he had said traffic would be intense, Hank had not been exaggerating. Traffic was indeed a mess. Tom and Jeordi were not accustomed to seeing so many people, cars, pedestrians, or so much traffic and congestion, but Bill, once again behind the wheel of their car, handled it as if it were nothing. Before it seemed possible, they were giving one another hurried hugs at the airport while a cop insisted they move along.
Chapter Nine
AFTER THE whirlwind of a day they’d had, Tom and Jeordi actually fell asleep on the plane ride back home to Kentucky. Tired but clutching the book of their photos along with their certificates of marriage, they exited their tiny airport to find Tom’s sister waiting for them. This time there was no cop telling them to move along quickly, but they were exhausted, so they didn’t need anyone telling them to do so.
“So, how was it?” she asked.
“You know where we were today?” Tom asked.
“Yes. Jeordi and I talked. And I wouldn’t agree to pick you up until he spilled the beans about what he was planning.”
“I see that I have to work on finding new ways to get information out of him,” Tom said with a smile that bordered on frisky and evil.
“Hey, injured man here,” Jeordi pleaded.
At home, despite wanting to climb all over one another physically, they lay down and were both asleep in almost no time. It had been a very long day.
The following morning, before Tom left for work, Jeordi surprised him yet again.
“Tonight when you get home from work, I’d like you to go with me to see my parents.”
“You would? Why? What did I do wrong? I thought you reserved that punishment for capital offenses.”
Jeordi chuckled, recalling how he’d actually said pretty much those words. “I want us to go together and show them what we did yesterday.”
“Really?” Tom asked.
“Really.”
“Okay.”
And that was how, at six o’clock that evening, Tom and Jeordi stood hand in hand at the front door to the house where Jeordi’s parents lived, the same one where he’d grown up.
It only took one poke of the doorbell before Jeordi’s mother was pulling the inside door open. She broke into a big smile at the sight of her son but lost it when she saw Tom was there with him. When she spotted them holding hands, her face became a frosty scowl.
“Get in here. What the hell are you doing? Don’t you know people can see you?”
“Let ’em look all they want,” Jeordi said. “I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.”
“You’re not the only person affected by your outrageous behavior,” she said. “Did you ever think about that? We live in this town too, you know,” she scolded.
“Son,” Jeordi’s father said, walking slowly into the room. “I’m surprised to see you here. Tom,” he said, acknowledging Tom’s presence with a nod.
“We have something to show you,” Jeordi said. He nodded to Tom, who stepped up, holding the book and opening it to the first page.
“Your incredible son did the most amazing thing. Without telling me what he was up to, yesterday he flew us to Washington, DC, where we got married.” He flipped the book to a photo showing them facing one another, holding hands, with the chief justice standing between them.
“Is that…?” Jeordi’s father started to say before the words died away.
“Yes, Dad, that’s the chief justice of the United States Supreme Court.”
“What did you do?” his mother demanded. “How did you get in trouble bad enough that y
ou had to go there?” Her tone was accusing.
“We didn’t do anything wrong, Mother. We were there to get married. The chief justice married us yesterday.”
His mother asked, “How—”
“Family,” Tom said. “Family up in DC helped us out when we needed them.”
“We don’t have any family in DC,” his mother complained. “And Tom, your people certainly don’t have anyone up there.”
“Our gay family, Mother,” Jeordi said, flipping to the photo of the four of them standing with the chief justice. “Our big, extended, incredible, glorious gay family. When we hit a snag yesterday, they were there when we needed someone, and they just immediately pitched in and fixed our problem in a way we never saw coming. It was incredible—the flight, seeing the nation’s capital, getting married, meeting two incredible guys who took care of us every step of the way.”
“What did you have to do for them for all of this?” she asked with a curl to her upper lip.
“All we had to do was agree to pass it on to someone else when we were able. So when we spot a gay person or couple in need, all we have to do is what we would do anyway—reach out a helping hand, give them a shoulder to lean on, and do something for them that we can do but they can’t do for themselves. That’s all.
“You know,” Jeordi said with a particular twinkle in his eye. “This reminds me of a hymn that Grandma used to sing when she worked in the kitchen—something about casting your bread upon the waters and it will come back to you. Do you remember that, Mother? I’m sure you heard your mother sing the same hymn. It was one of her favorites.”
Jeordi’s father nodded, looking thoughtful.
“I need to get Tom home. He’s worked all day and probably is still tired from all the running around we did yesterday. But I wanted to be sure to come show you the wedding photos. You couldn’t be there, but we wanted you to see them.”
His father nodded. His mother said nothing.
At the door, Tom said, “Good night.”
Jeordi’s father, however, surprised them all by pulling his son into a quick hug before saying, “Good night, guys.”
Jeordi could not remember his father ever doing anything like that with any of his sons, including himself.
Their trailer was only a couple of blocks away, so it was an easy walk to get home.
Jeordi pulled the screen door open to unlock the main door, surprised when an envelope fell out.
“FedEx,” he said. “You expecting something?”
“No,” Tom said. Since the package was addressed to both of them, while Jeordi was busy unlocking the door, Tom pulled it open to see who had sent something to them. Inside was a much smaller envelope, greeting card sized, with their names handwritten across the front.
After opening that second one, Tom pulled out a card featuring two gorgeous shirtless men in a tight embrace. The words wished them all the best on the start of their life together as a married couple. Flipping the card open, Tom saw that it was signed by Hank and Bill.
But that was not all that was inside.
“Holy fuck,” Tom said, his voice low and gravelly.
“What’s wrong, babe?” Jeordi asked.
“Holy fuck.”
“Tom? What’s wrong?” Jeordi asked, worried.
“Um, nothing wrong,” Tom said. “Quite… the opposite actually. It’s a card from Hank and Bill congratulating us on our marriage.”
“That’s great, but I wonder why they sent it by FedEx,” Jeordi said.
“Because of what was inside the card,” Tom said, holding something out to him.
“What’s this?” Jeordi asked, taking the paper that Tom held.
“Holy fuck.”
“Yeah, think I said that,” Tom said.
“Holy fuck,” Jeordi repeated.
“Okay, so we’re on the same page now,” Tom said. “There’s a note in the card. ‘Jeordi and Tom—Thank you for letting us be part of your special day yesterday. It was wonderful beyond measure to meet the two of you and be able to do something to help someone else. It sounded like you were facing a few unanticipated expenses because of Jeordi’s accident, so we wanted to send you the enclosed check to help you get over the hump and get back on a firm footing. As hard as it might be to believe, we were once your age and remember how hard it could be when money was tight. We are most fortunate now that money is not a consideration for us, and we are delighted to give you the enclosed wedding gift to get yourselves back on your feet and maybe even take a honeymoon trip somewhere, if and when the time is right. All our best, Hank and Bill. PS—Don’t even think about sending the check back. PPS—I had a talk with the chief about your county clerk, and we watched the video that was broadcast on your local channel. The chief was not amused and immediately got on the telephone. I don’t know all the details, but knowing her, heads were going to roll before the day was over.’”
“I… I’m speechless,” Jeordi said.
“I can’t believe they did that for us,” Tom said.
“Of all the people we could have run into, how did we get so lucky as to meet them? What are the odds?”
“They may be better than you think,” Tom said. “Remember, we are everywhere.”
Jeordi snickered. “I love it.” Thinking for a moment, he went on, “I can’t believe I remember this, but one of the Bible verses I had to learn as a youngster has stuck with me. I think it was from the Old Testament, the book of Hebrews, and it was simply ‘Forget not to show love unto strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.’”
“Spot on, babe,” Tom said. “Spot on.”
“You tired?” Jeordi asked.
“More than you could possibly know,” Tom said. “You?”
“Not as much. Too bad you’re so tired.”
“Why?” Tom asked suspiciously.
“I don’t know. Why don’t you check the locks, turn off the lights, and then come into the bedroom and see your… husband about the matter. I have it on good authority that he might have an idea or two.”
Tom rushed around to do as directed, suddenly more awake and excited.
MICHAEL MURPHY met his husband Dan thirty-four years ago during a Sunday service at MCC in Washington, DC, when a hot, smart man sat down beside him. Due to a large crowd and a shortage of hymnals, they had to share. The touch of one hand on the other in that moment was electric. Sparks flew that day. Though neither had planned it, they spent the rest of day together followed by the night. From that day, for more than three decades, they’ve rarely been separated, each finding in the other their soul mate.
In the District of Columbia, where they live, marriage became possible in early March 2010. The minute it happened, they were in line to get a marriage license, only to be stumped because the license required the name of the person who was going to marry them. There was such a sudden rush of same-sex couples wanting to get married that the office already had a two-month backlog before an appointment could be secured. Since they weren’t at all convinced that the Congress wasn’t going to step in and do something stupid to take away this right, they started calling everywhere to find someone who would marry them. It might be legal, but finding someone to marry them was proving to be a challenge.
When an article appeared in the newspaper telling of a small local United Methodist Church that had decided to go against general church policy because marriage equality mattered deeply to them, a conversation started. After a series of e-mails and phone calls, suddenly they were seated with two retired UMC ministers who were willing to risk it all to do the right thing. A few days later, license in hand, surrounded by a handful of friends and their best dog, Shadow, they were finally legally married.
Please stop by www.gayromancewriter.com to learn more about him.
By Michael Murphy
Book Fair
Breaking News
Evac
It Should Have Been You
Little Squirrels Can Climb Tall Trees • Mano
’s Story
A More Perfect Union (Multiple Author Anthology)
A Night at the Ariston Baths
The President’s Husband
Swan Song for an Ugly Duckling
Walls That Divide
When Dachshunds Ruled the Serengeti
You Can’t Go Home Again
Published by DREAMSPINNER PRESS
www.dreamspinnerpress.com
Destined
By Jamie Fessenden
When Jay and Wallace first meet at an LGBTQ group, they have no idea they’ll be dating six years later. In fact, they quickly forget each other’s names. But although fate continues to throw them together, the timing is never quite right. Finally they’re both single and realize they want to be together… but now they can’t find each other! With determination and the help of mutual friends, Jay and Wallace can finally pursue the relationship they’ve both wanted for so long.
It’s only the beginning of the battles they’ll face to build a life together.
From disapproving family members all the way to the state legislature, Jay and Wallace’s road to happily ever after is littered with obstacles. But they’ve come too far to give up the fight.
For my amazing husband, Erich.
Destined is the more or less true story of how Erich and I met and spent years figuring out we wanted to be together. It isn’t 100 percent accurate, but memories rarely are. And this is our fairytale, so I reserve the right to make us handsome, charming, and maybe even a bit heroic.
Prelude
1994
JAY AND Wallace were convinced they met for the first time in 1999, but they were wrong. They’d met five years earlier than that, in 1994. But neither of them remembered.
Jay had just graduated from college with a computer science degree and found himself a job two hours west of the university doing tech support for a mail-order company called PC Connection. A coworker found out he was looking for an apartment in the area and told him his wife managed an apartment building. So that was how Jayson Corey ended up in Keene, New Hampshire, in the midnineties with a job, an apartment, and no friends to speak of.
A More Perfect Union Page 15