A More Perfect Union

by J. Scott Coatsworth

  So that’s where things stood for a while. Three days on and four days off. Rinse and repeat. But it wasn’t a bad way to run their relationship. They never grew tired of each other’s company, and they always looked forward to seeing each other on the weekends.

  Then, in December 2003, the Supreme Judicial Court in Massachusetts ruled the state’s ban on same-sex marriage was unconstitutional.

  THE SJC ruling wasn’t the final word—not right away. Things got bounced around between the court and the legislature for several months, while people with no stake in the matter whatsoever gnashed their teeth and wailed about how it would destroy their lives. The state of Massachusetts finally began issuing marriage licenses to same-sex couples on May 17, 2004.

  This was on a Monday, so Jay and Wallace were at work and might have missed it. They didn’t watch television and only checked the news on the Internet occasionally. But that evening they found it plastered all over Facebook. Several of their friends lived in Massachusetts—that, and of course the entirety of western civilization was now collapsing into dust.

  But what Jay thought of as cause for celebration appeared to put Wallace in a pensive mood. “What’s the matter?” Jay asked.

  Wallace shrugged. “I always thought it was impossible. Gay men—and women, of course—would never be allowed to marry.”

  “So? Isn’t it good that things are changing?”

  “I guess so.”

  That wasn’t all of it, and Jay now knew his boyfriend well enough to know that. “And…?”

  Wallace looked decidedly uncomfortable. “Well…. I just…. It wasn’t anything I ever had to worry about.”

  “Worry about?”

  Wallace sighed. “I don’t mean I wouldn’t want to marry you, but… it’s a big decision. Big decisions stress me out.”

  Jay tended not to stress about things like this. He could imagine being married to Wallace, and the thought made him feel kind of warm and fuzzy inside. But he wouldn’t object to just living together for a while, if that would make Wallace more comfortable. He was also good with the arrangement they had for a bit longer.

  “I know,” he told Wallace diplomatically. “And that’s fine. Just because it’s becoming possible for us to marry doesn’t mean you and I specifically have to do it.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want to….”

  Jay kissed him to shut him up. Wallace could work himself up over things like this, and it really wasn’t necessary. They’d only been together a few years. It wasn’t as if one of them was pregnant and their parents were gnashing their teeth about a grandchild being born out of wedlock. Their religion didn’t forbid having sex outside of marriage. There was no reason to rush things.

  Chapter Eight

  THINGS GOT ugly on the same-sex marriage front during the next few years. Jay and Wallace followed the news and attended the wedding of two friends down in Massachusetts. When the New Hampshire legislature began to fight over the issue, they became more actively involved in the Freedom to Marry campaign. Even though they still lived apart, they reliably spent their weekends together and attended gatherings as a couple—including company picnics.

  Everyone in their lives knew they were a couple. Wallace’s conservative father had been a challenge. When they visited on the holidays, he was… civil… and he could paste on a smile, though he rarely looked Jay directly in the eye.

  Fortunately Wallace’s brother was cool. “Take good care of him” was all he said to Jay.

  Jay’s mother practically cooed over Wallace. “I’ve resigned myself to never having grandchildren,” she said wistfully, “but I’m so glad Jay’s found someone who makes him happy.” Then she added, “You aren’t thinking of adopting, are you?”

  Wallace blanched a little. They hadn’t even discussed marriage or moving in together since he’d mentioned it years ago. Jay saw his expression and deftly distracted his mother with a question about her baby doll collection.

  From his stuffed chair in the living room, Jay’s stepfather gave Wallace a commiserating smile.

  IN 2008 the New Hampshire legislature voted to create civil unions for same-sex couples. This was the result of three years of squabbling and a general election in 2006, which allowed Democratic legislators to gain the upper hand. But the “separate but equal” status conferred by a civil union was still unpalatable to much of the LGBTQ community in the state, so the fight continued until, in May of 2009, a same-sex marriage bill passed in the legislature by a thin majority.

  The governor had five days to decide if he would veto the bill, and he expressed publicly his desire to do so.

  To come this close, only to be defeated by the governor—a governor Jay and Wallace had voted for, no less—was maddening. They joined a letter-writing campaign to convince the governor this legislation was important to a large number of residents, both gay and straight. Jay wrote passionately of his love for Wallace and his desire to spend the rest of his life with him, even though they still hadn’t discussed taking that step. Wallace wrote less passionately but perhaps more logically, about equality benefiting all members of society.

  On June 3 the governor signed the bill, announcing his position had been swayed by the many letters he’d received that convinced him this was an issue the people of the state felt strongly about.

  Jay called Wallace from his desk at work and told him about the breaking news. It was Wednesday, so they wouldn’t be seeing each other for a couple more days.

  “Yes,” Wallace said, sounding reserved—more reserved than usual, that was. “I saw it go by online.”

  “We won!”

  “Yeah… we did.” There was a long pause. Then Wallace said, “I’ll see you on Friday.”

  Jay was puzzled at his behavior, but he knew Wallace could be moody, so he let it go. He stood up to stretch, and George, the coworker in the cubicle beside him, said, “Yeah, GLAAD really came through for you guys.”

  “GLAAD?” Jay asked, confused. “GLAAD wasn’t really involved in this.”

  George scoffed. “Every time an issue like this comes up, GLAAD swoops in and pumps millions into the state to sway things in you guys’ favor. Not that I’m against gays getting married….” His tone didn’t indicate he was particularly in favor of it either.

  From what Jay had heard, there were some particularly hateful nationwide organizations who were currently under investigation for doing just that, in order to make sure same-sex marriage did not pass. But he didn’t have direct proof of that, so he decided to avoid the whole argument.

  “There was a poll recently. It indicated about seventy percent of the people in the state were in favor of marriage equality.”

  “Yeah… a poll conducted by college students.” He was clearly contemptuous of that. “Look, the governor was dead set against it. Then suddenly he’s in favor of it. How else do you explain that?”

  “He said it was because people all over the state e-mailed him. I was one of them. So was my boyfriend.”

  “Sure. A couple hundred people wrote letters. Then somebody handed him a nice fat check for his reelection campaign.”

  Jay knew HR probably had some silly rule against punching a coworker, so he opted to go to the break room and get a fresh cup of coffee instead. The conspiracy theory didn’t make much sense. George seemed to be implying the majority of people in the state were against same-sex marriage and the governor had just defied them. If that were true, was GLAAD also promising to buy off all these so-called disenfranchised voters, come the next gubernatorial election?

  Jay brewed a cup of Breakfast Blend and inhaled the mellow aroma. It soothed him and allowed him to come back to reality from his brief, unpleasant visit to the Land of Conspiracy Theories. They’d won. And people in New Hampshire might be slightly on the conservative side, but they were also long-term believers in staying out of other people’s business. “I don’t care what they do, as long as they don’t scare the chickens,” as his grandmother used to put it. Apar
t from the occasional debate with guys like George, he and Wallace had never been bothered by anyone.

  The law wouldn’t go into effect until next January, but as he spooned sugar and creamer into his cup, Jay felt good.

  Really good.

  Chapter Nine

  WALLACE HAD never been so nervous in his life. He’d dressed in his best clothes—not that anybody but him could tell. His best clothes were just slightly less shabby than his regular clothes. He wasn’t someone who spent a lot of time worrying about things like that. As long as they didn’t have gaping holes in inappropriate places, he figured they were fine.

  But when Jay opened the door, his smile was immediately replaced by a slightly puzzled expression. “Hey, sweetie. How was your day?”

  He always said that, whenever Wallace arrived at his apartment on Friday evening, as if they’d just been apart since that morning instead of Monday morning. Where the term “sweetie” had come from, Wallace had no idea. He’d hated it at first—he was so not a “sweetie”—but by now he looked forward to hearing the endearment every Friday.

  “Good.” He came inside, closed the door behind him, and kissed Jay. “How about you?”

  Jay went to sit on the couch, still watching him warily. “Fine. Is something going on? You look unusually well dressed tonight.”

  Dammit.

  Only Jay would have noticed. But then that was what all this was about, wasn’t it? Only Jay.

  There was no point in putting it off. If he did, he might chicken out. Wallace walked over to the couch, but instead of sitting down beside Jay, he kneeled in front of him.

  Jay’s eyes went wide. “Oh my God! You’re not!”

  “This is the way it’s supposed to be done, isn’t it?” Wallace asked stiffly. “I’m sorry if I’m a little old-fashioned.”

  “Sorry. You’re right. Go ahead.”

  Wallace cleared his throat, suddenly panicking about not bringing a ring. But Jay hated rings. Didn’t he? He’d always said he did. Well, it was too late now.

  Wallace took Jay’s hand in his and said in a shaky voice, “The last ten years with you have been the happiest of my life. I… I want us to be together for the rest of our lives.” He realized he was staring at their hands, and that probably wasn’t right. So he took a deep breath and forced himself to look up into Jay’s soft emerald eyes, which seemed slightly misty now, as if Jay were on the edge of tears. “Jayson Corey… will you marry me?”

  Jay grabbed him by both shoulders and yanked him up so he could latch onto Wallace’s mouth in a passionate kiss. Then he leaned back, pulling Wallace down on top of him. By the time the kiss was finished, pants had been undone and they’d both rubbed each other to a quick and somewhat messy climax in their underwear.

  Wallace groaned and fell down between Jay and the back of the couch, breathing heavily. “You… didn’t say… anything….”

  Jay chuckled and kissed him tenderly on the forehead. “Yes. Of course, yes!” He paused for a breath. “Did you seriously think it wouldn’t be?”

  “You always… had the option.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Jay smiled and pulled him closer, if such a thing was possible, considering how they were wedged into the couch. “I adore you. And I am more comfortable with you than I have ever been with anyone else. I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone but you. So, yes. It’s always been yes, since the moment I met you. It just took a while to realize that.”

  Wallace thought for a long time, then sighed. “You say it better than I could.”

  “You inspire me.”

  Chapter Ten

  BOTH JAY and Wallace agreed that marrying would present a logistical problem, if they couldn’t first straighten out their living arrangement. They had six months before marriage would be legal, anyway. They might as well work on sorting out how they could live together.

  Jay’s apartment was definitely out. It was too small for Jay, never mind two people. They both liked Wallace’s house, though it was a bit close to the road for Jay’s tastes. He’d always fantasized about living out in the country, far enough off the beaten path he could walk out of his front door naked without any neighbors taking notice. Even if they wanted to live in that house, there was the slight problem of Wallace’s housemates. One was allergic to Jay’s cats—that hadn’t changed—and Jay had no intention of surrendering his pets. Wallace would have to buy both his housemates out if he wanted to take ownership of the house.

  The question was, did he want that? After numerous discussions with Jay and his housemates, he ultimately decided the answer was no. He and Jay needed to find their own place, someplace that was perfect for the two of them.

  Fortunately Adrastia had a friend in New Hampshire who worked in real estate.

  “DAMMIT!” ROWAN muttered, trying the lock on the side door. The key didn’t fit that one any better than it had the locks on the front and back doors. “This is the only key they gave me!”

  Jay looked up at the old Victorian, loving the sheer size of it and the old-fashioned design, but the yard was less appealing. It was two acres, so that part was good. It was also on a small dirt road in the country, so there weren’t likely to be many cars. But the front door of the house was right on the road—no more than twenty feet away from it—and there was a house directly across the road and another just a short distance away on the other side of the property. If he looked out one of the upstairs windows, he’d be looking into the neighbor’s windows.

  “I’m not sure it’s worth bothering with,” he said.

  Wallace frowned but said nothing. They’d looked at a number of houses over the past few months. This one and an old farmhouse in Barrington had been the best they’d come across. Unfortunately, though the Barrington house had a fantastic three-story barn, big enough to drive a combine harvester into—if they ever felt the need to own such a thing—it had been so out of the way it would have added a half hour to each of their work commutes.

  “I’m not giving up,” Rowan said. She stepped back and glared at the house, her hands on her hips as if she were about to scold it. “You two stay here. I’m going to crack this baby if it’s the last thing I do!”

  With that she stormed off around to the back.

  Wallace watched her go, then said, “I’m picturing her whipping out a glass cutter and a suction cup.”

  “Maybe. Or belaying down through a skylight.”

  How she did it, they would never know, but a moment later she was waving at them through the window on the door. She opened it to admit them. “Nobody stops this real estate agent from showing a house!”

  “Have you considered becoming an international jewel thief?”

  “I thought about it, but I didn’t like the hours.”

  Unfortunately for Jay, the house was gorgeous inside. The living room was cavernous, with a stone fireplace at one end and sliding glass doors at the other, opening onto a deck. The upstairs bedrooms were quirky. The main bedroom was above the living room and pretty large, but the others were at odd angles and not completely rectangular. While this might have been off-putting, Wallace thought it was quaint, and Jay didn’t mind them. The upstairs bathroom was a typical bathroom… except the owners had renovated one end of it into a Romanesque bath big enough to fit about ten people, if they all wanted to shower together. One entire side of it was a glass-block window that was impossible to see through, though it admitted light from the main bedroom on the other side. It was impossible to look at the bath and not think “orgy.”

  But the most awesome feature was the kitchen. It was enormous, and it had an oversized industrial refrigerator and stainless steel sinks, plus a huge gas stove in the center. Had the house been used as a restaurant? Or was the current owner a chef? Rowan had no idea. But it was a beautiful kitchen, and now Jay was torn. He liked the inside of the house but not the yard. He might just have to accept the fact that, without going someplace way off the beaten path—and therefore far away from hospitals, sto
res, gas stations, and everything else they might need in an emergency—it wasn’t going to be possible to get away from neighbors.

  ROWAN KEPT sending them listings to consider. They hadn’t definitely said no to the Victorian, and she was trying to arrange for them to get another look at it soon so they could make up their minds. But Wallace and Jay were checking out the listings themselves. Not actually going inside—for that they needed to arrange a visit through Rowan—but driving by and looking at houses from the outside.

  That was how they stumbled across the property in Rockford.

  It was a beautiful house, two stories with a wraparound porch and back deck, a finished basement, fireplace, and a hot tub. It was also situated smack in the middle of eight acres of land, mostly forest. They could see the house from the road if they parked at the end of the 150-foot driveway, but there were no neighbors to be seen without driving farther down the road. It was late October, so the house was overlooked by two tall trees in the front yard blazing in oranges and yellows.

  Jay sighed. “I think I just came in my pants.”

  “Down, boy.”

  But they called Rowan that evening to arrange for a showing.

  Chapter Eleven

  ROWAN MET them on the front porch of the house a week later. It was November now, and the leaves had mostly fallen, but Jay loved this time of year. The air was crisp and had an earthy smell, tinged with the scent of woodsmoke. They walked around the porch for a minute, taking in the view from all angles. Not a single house to be seen—just forest on three sides and a country road in front, mostly obscured by trees.