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“You did. And yet you let me... talk about Michael coming here.”
“I’m not allowed to reveal anything. Those are the rules. You had to learn by other means.” Yuri raised his chin, and Keith saw his glistening eyes. “I’m sorry for your loss. I know how much he meant to you—and how much you wanted to see him one last time.”
“And now I’ll never get the chance.” Keith sniffed.
“Do you want me to go?”
Keith shook his head. “I want to talk about Michael—if you don’t mind listening.”
Yuri’s smile was kind. “That’s what I’m here for, remember?” He took Keith’s hand in his. “I’m also here to make it easier for you to talk.”
Keith stilled, allowing warmth and calm to trickle through his body from head to foot. “If you could bottle this, you’d make a fortune.”
Yuri leaned in and whispered, “It’s not for sale. And only available for very special people.” He pressed his lips to Keith’s forehead, then drew back. “The last time we spoke, you were telling me about the summer of 1986. What happened next?”
Keith smiled. “One of the happiest years of my life. We were out, my parents loved Michael as if he was their own son, Isabelle was overjoyed about our relationship...”
“And Bill?”
Keith scowled. “I guess there always has to be one fly in the ointment, right? He was cool, and not in a good way. There were times when I caught Isabelle staring at him, and I could see his attitude upset her. Michael just accepted that Bill would never be supportive of a gay stepson.” He smiled. “But there were good times too. School was great, Michael was top of his classes, and I loved my studies. Best of all, we were together.”
In February 1987, they’d spent Keith’s twentieth birthday in New York, courtesy of Isabelle and Mom. The two mothers had clubbed together and paid for seven nights in a wonderful hotel. Keith and Michael crammed a lot of sightseeing into their week, taking in a couple of shows, with visits to Central Park, the Empire State, museums—and a gay bookstore or two.
They crammed a lot into their nights too: The Joy of Gay Sex was looking tattered and well used, but by then they’d found other material.
Reaching the age of twenty had started a train of thought that was never far from Keith’s mind, and he let it ferment for six months before finally mentioning it to Michael.
“I asked him what his plans were for after graduation. Of course, I would graduate first—medical school took far longer.” Keith smiled. “His answer was perfect. He said he didn’t care where he lived or worked, just as long as I was living with him.” Another smile. “I wanted that too. We couldn’t get married, but we could be a couple. As far as we were concerned, we’d be husbands.”
“Way before such a thing was legal,” Yuri added. “You wouldn’t have been alone. I know of one gay couple who’ve been together since 1971, and all this time they’ve considered themselves married.”
Lord, he was tired. But he needed to finish the story.
“The day after Michael’s twentieth birthday, everything changed.” And the more he thought about it, the more convinced Keith became that Bill had done it on purpose.
The summer of ’87
Sunday, July 12, 1987
Sweat covered Keith’s body as he pushed the lawnmower through the dense grass. He swore his dad had let it get this long on purpose, just so he could spend his summer mowing it. There were so many other things he could be doing with his time.
Except he knew that was a lie. There was only one thing he wanted to be doing—spending time with Michael. He was being greedy, of course. He got to see Michael all the time in college, now they were roommates, but the summer had brought an end to that. He’d have to make do with whatever moments they could snatch here and there.
I can’t wait to go back to school.
It was a selfish attitude, one he berated himself for constantly, but being home meant noise and bustle and chores. College meant Michael, cuddles, morning sex, all-night-long sex, walks in the park, movies... Hell, even shopping for groceries was more fun than spending time with his fourteen-year-old sisters, when all they could do was yap about boys, poke Mom about letting them use make-up, demand a bigger allowance...
Was I ever that obnoxious when I was their age?
Not that they really were obnoxious—it was just his perspective as the oldest child and the only boy.
Another year of school under his belt meant another year closer to his and Michael’s shared goal of setting up a home together—starting a life together.
Almost three years since that first kiss. And so many years still to come.
He paused when Michael’s car pulled onto the driveway. Keith switched off the lawnmower and hurried over to the fence where he’d hung a towel. He wiped himself down, grinning as Michael got out of the car.
“Aren’t we going to the movies tonight? Couldn’t wait that long to see me, huh?” Then all humor died when he saw Michael’s face. “What’s happened? What’s wrong?”
