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“Oh my God, everything I cook turns to hash.” Then he started laughing too.
Theo turned wide eyes on me, as if to say, Wow, they’re ridiculous.
“Okay, but for real,” Rhys said when he got his laughter under control. “I’m so thankful for having all of you in my life. Caleb, it’s good to have you back, my friend.” Caleb squeezed his arm. “Theo, I’m so damned glad Caleb met you. For his sake and for mine, because you’re awesome.” Theo ducked his chin and smiled.
Then Rhys turned to me, and my eyes went wide with panic that he was about to say some shit that was gonna make me cry in front of Caleb and Theo.
“Matty, my love.” He paused. “I’ll get you later.” And he winked.
The relief in my sigh was probably completely obvious, but I didn’t care. I was thankful as fuck for the amazing things Rhys said to me every day. And I was doubly thankful that he knew when to keep his mouth shut.
Caleb said, “I’m really fucking glad I met you too,” to Theo. It was clear that they weren’t going to get all mushy with each other at the table either. Then he turned to Rhys. “And I’m so glad you’re still around. Even if I want to punch you like forty percent of the time. You’re . . . I had no reason to think you’d tough it out with me all these years. But I’m really damn lucky you did.” He looked down at his plate, then gave Rhys a wobbly smile.
“Uh-oh, are we all doing this?” Theo asked.
“Wait,” Caleb said. “I forgot. Matt. I’m so glad Rhys found you. I’ve never seen him so happy. He’s a total goober whenever he talks about you.”
“Oh, um. Thanks,” I said. Was this what Thanksgiving was? A bunch of people saying really embarrassing and awkwardly emotional things in front of each other?
As if Theo read my mind, he raised his glass of cider and said, “I’m thankful for the fact that Rhys and Matt got a dog because now I can play with Max and convince Caleb how essential one is to my happiness.”
He gave Caleb a sparkly grin, and I watched Caleb basically melt in real time.
Then, despite me shoving a forkful of mashed potatoes into my mouth to signal that the confessional part of the day was done and the eating part was commencing, all eyes were on me.
In the corner of the living room, even Max’s sad eyes and smiley mouth seemed directed toward me. Fuck it. I cared about all of them, and they already knew more about me than I’d thought anyone would.
“I . . . I’m. I feel like I finally have . . . a life. And I’m glad you’re all in it,” I said directly to my potatoes. Under the table, Rhys’s hand found mine, warm and strong and steady.
After we’d eaten more mashed potatoes than I’d ever consumed in my life, we sat outside on the porch wrapped in blankets.
“So, your fundraiser, for the art thing at Mariposa,” Theo started, leaning toward me. “I was telling Rhys, I wanna help. Donate, whatever.”
“That’s really nice, man,” I said. “I have a budget proposal that I wrote up that I can send to you.”
“Um . . . sure, okay. Well. You can. But do I have to read it?”
I laughed. “I guess not. You’ve got gobs of money, if you wanna use it to help then that’s awesome.”
“Okay, cool, thanks.” Caleb snorted and smiled at Theo, shaking his head. “What?” Theo elbowed him. “So. Just tell me how you want me to play this. I could totally get in touch with some other people who might want to donate, or I can be all super secret Santa about it. Your call.”
“Oh. Well. Probably secret Santa would be better. If your rock star friends wanna give money, that’s awesome. But if the program’s gonna have any hope of longevity it’s gotta be able to have self-sustaining fundraising rather than just a large infusion of cash up front. It’s the only way to see if it’ll be viable, long term.”
Once the program was up and running, an endorsement from someone like Theo, with rock star shine, would put it on people’s radars and hopefully we could mine some monthly donors.
As Caleb and Theo and Rhys talked about all the musicians and artists they knew who might be interested, or might have instruments and materials they’d donate, my mind wandered to all the things the project could do.
In a few years, we could get some of the folks who’d benefited from the program and gone on to have careers to talk about what resources helped them. Maybe if we raised enough money, we could even have some studio space that people could rent in addition to supplies and instruments.
