When I can’t catch my breath, Damon squeezes my leg and the reassuring touch makes my anxiety disappear.
The ceremony is long and drawn out. I sense the occasional stare from interested parties—the news of me and my boyfriend’s appearance already making the rounds. The pastor rambles on about soul mates here, a bond forever there. Add in sappy vows, and bam, it should be over. Why is this taking so long? At one point, Damon leans in and whispers, “I’m falling asleep.”
When we’re finally released from the torturous ramblings of tying one life to another in the name of God and what-the-fuck-ever, I’m ready for a drink. Or several.
It’s a short walk through the cemetery to get to the community center where the reception is being held, and Damon holds my hand the whole way.
I do a quick stop at my grandfather’s grave, kiss my hand and then place it on his headstone, and continue walking. “Is it weird I’m more comfortable here than in there?” I point to the church.
“That you’d rather be dead than married?” Damon asks. “Yeah, it’s a bit extreme.”
“You have to ignore Maddy,” Will says from behind us. “The only type of commitment he can make is a couple of hours.”
“Yeah, I’ve worked that much out already,” Damon says and then squeezes my hand.
As soon as we reach the community hall and wade our way through the crowd and over-the-top decorations, we beeline it to the bar. “Scotch,” I say at the same time Damon says, “Rum.”
“Are you a pirate?”
“Aye. Would you prefer I order a cocktail with an umbrella? Have to give the folks here a nice dose of stereotypical.”
“I kinda want a cocktail with froufrou toppings. They’re delicious,” Jared says beside us.
Damon laughs.
“I’d have to drink about a hundred of them to get drunk enough,” I say. “I’ll stick with scotch.”
“How are we getting home?” Damon asks.
“Cab? Uber? Walk? Don’t care.”
“Tonight’s going to get messy, isn’t it?”
“I’m counting on it.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Jared says. “Will and I were hoping to hook up with a bridesmaid or two. Turns out, I’ve already slept with two of them and Will has the other one, and we’re not interested in crossing swords … so to speak.”
“So now we’re off to find sad cousins and relatives of the bride from out of town,” Will says.
“Have fun with your sad women,” I say. “I’m ready to be entertained watching you two strike out again like last night.”
“Those girls were interested in you two,” Jared mumbles. “Targets acquired, Willy Boy.” Jared points across the room.
As soon as he and Will are out of sight, Damon slides in closer to me. “Should I be worried that my sister went for a guy like that?”
“I often judge her taste in guys. After all, she rejected me for months, yet that bozo comes to visit and she jumps into his bed a few hours after meeting him.”
Damon winces. “That’s something I didn’t need to know.”
“Sorry to tell you that your twenty-three-year-old sister is sexually active and has been since college.” I gasp. “Shocking, I know.”
We down a few rounds and laugh our asses off at Will and Jared who are trying so damn hard to get laid.
“You wish you could be out there with them?” Damon asks.
“Not in this town.” I grab his hand. “Let’s go find our table.”
When he said we had to be more affectionate, I assumed I was going to have to be conscious of doing it—that I’d need reminding—but it’s been natural and reflexive, just as it would if I were on a date with a woman.
I don’t know what to make of that, but it also doesn’t freak me out like my dream did.
We find our names at the same table as Will and Jared and also a few girls we went to high school with.
“Maddy,” Claire exclaims and jumps out of her chair to hug me.
“Hey, Claire. This is my boyfriend, Damon.”
“Wow. So you really are gay, huh? We all thought it was your way of breaking up with Chastity.”
Damon laughs but recovers by putting his arm around my shoulder and saying, “I thought he was straight when I met him.”
Yeah, so did I.
“You still play football?” she asks.
“Not since high school,” I admit.
“He’s into baseball now,” Damon says. “Thanks to me.”
“You wish,” I say. “You will never convert me.”
“Give it time.”
“Ooh, there’s Chastity and Christopher. I’m gonna go congratulate them,” Claire says.
Damon leans in and whispers, “You know, I’m starting to think your town isn’t as dumb as I thought they were. I’m wondering if everyone knows you’re full of shit.”
“I guess they can’t exactly say ‘you’re lying’ to my face. It’s like one of those pranks where you’re sure you’re being pranked, but you don’t want to call the person on it in case it’s not. Like with the dude with the angel wings yesterday. I was ninety-nine percent sure he wasn’t you, but I still hesitated because what if it was?”