Page 127 of Sweet T

“My daddies have always been my world, but now I’m the age they were when they fell for each other, and someone has come into my life very much the same.”

Tucker’s eyes met Evan’s, surprising him. Evan’s eyes filled.

“We’re in love also, very much the same. And my daddies, two men that love so fiercely, have welcomed him in with the same generous and all-encompassing love that Pedro gave me so many years ago.”

Evan’s tears fell now. Someone else in the crowd whimpered.

“I can’t tell you how much it means to have parents so filled with love.” Tucker raised his glass. “So here’s to my daddies, Titus and Pedro, on their very special day–a day they had to wait twenty years for it to be recognized in the eyes of our nation. Their love for each other knows no bounds. Here’s to their future together. I–”

Tucker’s eyes found Evan again.

“–we–look forward to spending many more wonderful years with them.”

Everyone raised their glasses, cheering. Tucker stepped down from the riser and Evan was there to embrace him. They kissed and there were more cheers.

Tucker took Evan’s hand, guiding him back toward the pool. Hootie’s singer returned to the microphone, wide-eyed. “Wow,” she said. “That was some speech. All I can say is... WOW. Me and the guys thought this might be the perfect song to follow.”

A familiar, upbeat keyboard melody began. The song was Wow, by Kylie Minogue. When the rest of the band came in with its infectiously bouncy rhythm, Evan stopped in his tracks. “Oh, my God. I love this song.”

Tucker looked at him, uneasy. “I don’t really dance.”

“Please,” Evan pleaded, face puffy, eyes moist. There was no way on earth Tucker could deny him.

Many others were also inspired. The dance area was filling and Tucker and Evan remained where they stood on the grass. They were soon cocooned with people dancing all around them. And as the music progressed, Tucker grew less inhibited. He was still man-dancing side-to-side mostly but, when the song shifted into the chorus, his hands may have lifted a little higher, his hips may have swiveled a little wider, and the smile on his face may have grown to twice its size.

Evan was over the moon, ecstatic, hands up, jumping back and forth, bouncing with pure joy. He spun around, backing into Tucker with a little too much momentum, forcing Tucker backward and colliding with another couple. Tucker turned to the man behind him to apologize.

It was Emmett Walker, dancing much more stiffly with his wife, Pru.

“Oh, Emmett,” Tucker said, a bit startled by the encounter. “I’m so sorry. We’re a little out of control over here. This is my–”

Tucker was gesturing to introduce Evan. But Evan had already turned, recognizing the man. His eyes flashed wide with fear.

“Rick?” he said.

He had a beard now, and his hair was a little longer, but up close, Evan had no difficulty recognizing the man who had beaten and abandoned him. His memory may have been clouded by time, but confrontation had brought back every horrible detail in fast forward–the headlights, the rain, the radio, the banter, the sex, the pain, the blood, the mud. The memories came for him, whipping and whirling like a cyclone in his mind. The music, the happy people, and even Tucker had all gone mute. The only thing Evan saw was Rick’s disembodied face, no longer bearded, floating before him shouting, DON’T LOOK AT ME!

Evan swayed, his eyes rolled up, and he fell backward.

Alden, who was not far away, rushed in to catch him. He lowered Evan onto the grass and Sheila knelt beside him.

“I didn’t want to come,” Emmett said, frantic. He pointed at Pru. “She made me. Said it would do me good to see you, that it was part of my therapy. I didn’t mean to hurt him, T. I swear. How would I know you and he would...? I just wanted—”

“To use him,” Tucker answered. “Like you used me. How many have there been, Emmett? How many?”

Pru was standing behind Emmett, hand to her chest, embarrassed and coldly indifferent.

“I’m a bad man,” Emmett said, near tears. His hands were up, surrendering. “I know. Please. We’ll go. We—we’ll just go.”

“You’re not going anywhere. What are you, Emmett?” Tucker leaned in, his face inches from Emmett’s, red with rage. “Are you some kind of goddamned serial killer? You practice on me, and then you progress up to someone like Evan. How much longer, Emmett? How much longer before you kill someone?”

Evan stirred from the shouting. Shelia helped him sit up.

“I thought he was a homeless person. That’s all. I didn’t mean to take his money. I brought it back when I heard about you two, to make amends. The doctor says it takes time...”

“Fuck your doctor.” Tucker reared back and with full force punched Emmett, a wide sweeping hook landing square on the jaw.

Emmett staggered backward. Pru scurried away. Everyone else, except Sheila and Evan on the ground, shrank back, giving Tucker room for a showdown.

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