Page 44 of Margins

They go back to sorting things for a while—letters appearing more often at the beginning, cards for all sorts of occasions taking over the majority later, random ticket stubs or pictures or scribbled notes everywhere in between—and then they sit back to read what seems to be the first thing tucked away after they’d written in the margins all those years ago.

My dear Peter, it’s been nearly five years since the first time I stepped through your front door, since the first time I kissed you in your home, and since the first time I spent the entire night in your arms, only to have to sneak away under that bright, bright sun. It’s been so much longer than that since I first knew I loved you. It will be an eternity before I stop. Every moment I have with you has always been so good.

Now we find ourselves in something of a routine, with enough manufactured reasons for me to visit you at home, even if all the rest can’t be explained at all. Our relationship remains a secret kept from the outside world, but we are so regularly joyful within the walls of your beautiful house, and that joy means we no longer need to pass books in the quiet of your office. We are louder now, but those early days were something.

The truth is, I miss those books sometimes. I really do. Today we’re caught in something in between.

So, I write this letter to you now, even if I’ll be able to place it in your hand and follow it with a kiss to your lips, only because I miss being able to write to you when it was half of everything we had. Please accept it with all of my love and keep it close to you tomorrow once I’ve left again.

Always yours, Edgar

Neither of them moves or speaks for a minute after Elijah’s finished reading the letter aloud, still staring down at the page and hearing so much of a voice they don’t really know.

Eventually, Alex clears his throat. “So, you think your grandpa went away to college or something, and that gave Peter the chance to have Edgar come over sometimes?”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Elijah agrees. “And maybe Uncle Edgar couldn’t actually live there, but I could imagine enough excuses for why he might be there at any given time.”

“You really don’t think anyone got suspicious about it?”

Elijah shrugs. “I mean, it’s possible. And we have a lot more to read, obviously. But I think my great grandfather’s wealth would’ve allowed for some privacy in the neighborhood, even if they had to take basic precautions.”

“What do you think Edgar meant about being caught in between?” Alex wonders.

“I think it was probably a confusing time for him—emotionally, anyway,” Elijah says. “It always seemed like he was a little more willing to take chances, even early on, but they were really, really limited by circumstance. As long as my grandpa was still young, when there was something obvious to lose, they sort of had to stick to the book exchanges and middle of the night meetings in a shady part of town.”

“But then your grandpa moved out, and Peter and Edgar were able to really be together for the first time and had these five years of not having to look over their shoulders while they held each other, even if it was only for a night at a time.”

“And that was great, except they still couldn’t walk out the front door together and be honest about anything. I mean, I guess they could have, but not really. Not back then,” Elijah huffs.

“Not safely,” Alex agrees. “So, on the one hand, it felt like they’d made major progress in their relationship—and they had, really—but yeah, I could see why it was still only an in-between. There was so much more they wanted.”

“Uncle Edgar, especially, maybe.”

They set the letter aside and move on to a response from Peter not terribly long after, and it’s a lot of what both of them could’ve predicted. Apologies for how hard it’s always been for them, wishes that it could be different, promises that their love will last regardless. A mix of some greeting cards and letters followed, more spread out now that they could spend nights together, but it’s not long before they see the first mention of James meeting the woman who would become Elijah’s grandma, and Alex catches the wistful smile on Elijah’s face as the history he’s familiar with crawls closer to them now.

Talk of a wedding is soon after, one that Peter attended alone while surrounded by people who must have thought they knew him well, and Elijah swipes at a tear when they find a picture taken of Peter and James that day. Something else has both Alex and Elijah wide-eyed a minute later, Alex reading the newest letter aloud.

Edgar, my love, there is no reason for me to be writing this at all when you were at my side for one of the most wonderful nights of my life, but I still feel the need to capture every memory here. Maybe that’s a lingering habit from years ago, or maybe it’s the hope that this letter will far outlive me so that my family—your family, too—will know that there is always new joy to be had, always happiness to be celebrated. I’ll always regret that you couldn’t be there for James and Annie’s wedding, and I’m certain that is a wound that will never fully heal, but being able to hold your hand tonight as they shared their wonderful news might have been the closest I could get to forgiving myself for any sins of my past.

Throughout dinner, I knew there was something they needed to say, and I was so sure it would be good, but I don’t think I could have ever been prepared for this, not so soon.

A grandchild. It takes my breath away.

My love for you has always felt right, but we both know I’ve always been terribly afraid of all the ways I’m wrong. All the reasons I cannot loudly have what I wish I could shout from every rooftop. But then we sat there, together as we always should be, and my son and his wife told us they are expecting a baby. They were excited to tell us—both of us—because for all the ways this world might not understand what we are, James has never turned away, gentle since the day I first told him about you, and finding a wife who has been tender with us, too. And now, their child, certain to be born into a family full of love, even while our part in it must remain a secret.

Or is that no longer true?

As a new generation is born, is there hope that we might finally have a place outside these walls?

After years of you carefully pushing me to be as brave as you’ve always been, have I finally arrived there?

Time will tell, as it must do for everyone’s story.

All my love, Peter

Elijah pushes up from the couch and walks toward the bathroom without a word, while Alex takes a few deep breaths and refolds the letter. His hand is shaking, which is something of a surprise, but then so much of what he just read was a surprise too, and he needs to give himself the time to come back to the present, Elijah probably working so much harder at doing the same.

It’s another five minutes or so before Elijah returns, eyes rimmed red, and his voice rough when he speaks. “Sorry. That was—it was a lot to read in one letter.”

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