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He gave a shrug. “Life got in the way, I guess.”
“But you did love her?”
Yuri’s eyes glittered. “No—I loved him.”
Keith grimaced. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.”
He waved a hand. “It’s okay.” He stared across the bed toward the window. “He was my first love.”
In the silence that followed, Keith closed his eyes in concentration.
There had only ever been one love in his life.
“What are you thinking about?”
Keith opened his eyes and smiled. “My first love. In fact, the only man I ever loved.” He caught the hitch in Yuri’s breathing. “Yeah, you’re not the only gay man in this place.” He blinked. “Or bi... pan....or—” It was a whole new world out there, one that came with many sexualities and differing pronouns, and he did his best not to offend.
“You were right the first time. I’m gay. And I’m sure there are a lot of us around here.” His eyes grew warm. “How long has it been since you loved this man?”
“I last saw him thirty-five years ago.” And a few years after that, he dropped off the face of the earth, or at least that was how it seemed at the time.
Lord, that had hurt.
“You haven’t been alone since then, surely?”
“Oh, there were other men.”
“But you didn’t love them,” Yuri concluded.
Keith met his gaze. “You’re very perceptive. And no, I didn’t love them. At least, not like I loved him.” He sighed. “They were just a pale imitation of love. I think they knew that too.”
Yuri leaned forward. “What was his name?”
“Michael. Michael Rawlings.”
“How old were you when you first knew you loved him?”
That brought a smile. “Sixteen. Except he didn’t find out how I felt for another year.” Then he recalled the hour. “You don’t want to hear me prattle on. You must have things to do.”
Yuri smiled. “Yes, I do, and right now that’s sitting here, listening to you talk, and helping you ignore the pain.” He leaned back. “I’ve got time. Tell me about Michael.”
Keith chuckled. “Where do I start? We met in school when we were seven or eight, and we were best friends.”
Yuri’s face glowed. “That sounds amazing. You must have gone through so much together.”
He nodded. “Not all of it good. Michael lost his dad when he was thirteen.”
“Oh, that’s awful.” Yuri shifted his chair closer to the bed. “Then don’t talk about sad times. Tell me about a happy time you remember.”
Keith closed his eyes, homing in on a memory that shone out like a beacon, cutting through the fog of all the other memories taking up space in his mind.
“Well, it was Halloween...”
October 1984
Saturday, October 20, 1984
Stillwater MN
