Page 11 of You Are Cordially Invited

The toilet lid slammed back up and my smile grew.

* * *

“Cory, my man, I love you to bits, but you gotta stop driving that truck up my legs.” Mark was stretched out on the deep green sofa with an arm slung over his forehead, his expression pained. Kneeling on the floor beside him, Cory rolled his favourite red truck up Mark’s left leg, across his groin, and down the other side. Mark had managed to lay a magazine over his dick and balls, offering some protection from the onslaught, but he still squirmed with every pass.

“Reuben?” Mark groaned even louder. “You have to save me, man. I promise I’ll send you a copy of the vid I had Georgie make of Cam’s lap dance.”

“She took a video?” I leaned my head over the granite breakfast bar next to where I was making pancakes on the cooktop. “What the hell, Mark? I thought the photographer had been told to exclude that in case it got out. Plus, I thought all phones were banned?”

He lifted his arm and looked at me sheepishly. “Yeah, well. Rules are for sissies, right? Plus, it was Georgie. And she was one of the organising committee, not to mention your best friend, right?”

“Exactly,” I pointed out. “Jesus, you couldn’t have chosen someone worse. She might not feed it to the media, but I’ll never hear the bloody end of it for the rest of my life, and Cam’s gonna fucking kill me.”

“So let me get this right. You’re saying youdon’twant a private peep show of Cam’s sexy-as-fuck pert little arse all up in your face? All those rugby games away from home, the overseas tours...” He circled a finger in the air.

Fuck.I scrubbed a hand down my face to hide my expression because, hell yeah, I wanted that. “Fine. Tell her to send it to me, but then I want it deleted. And no copies.”

Mark huffed. “She won’t be happy about that. She saw endless teasing opportunities in her future.”

“Tell her unless she does, I’ll sick Cam onto the both of you.”

I didn’t think it was possible for Mark to look any more sickly than he did, but that was the miracle of Cameron Wano. “That’s dirty play, right there.” He held his stomach with one hand and jabbed a finger at me. “He’s still mad about the whole condom helium balloon bouquet I had sent to the ER on your engagement.”

I said nothing and his head fell back on the cushion. “All right, all right. I’ll make her delete it after she sends you a copy.”

“Excellent choice.” I fist-pumped the air.

He rolled his eyes, then winced. “Goddammit, even my eyeballs hurt. Why do you need all this damn colour? What’s wrong with black?”

I snorted. “Because we like it.” We’d been in our new house about six months, and the only neutral colour space was Cory’s bedroom, which remained a calm oasis for sleep and de-escalation. The rest, although painted a bland cream on the walls, was chock full of bright accessories. We’d amassed a wonderful selection of eclectic geometric prints from my rugby tours, which combined amazingly well with a few originals by particular Samoan artists that Cam loved. There were cheerful rugs and cushions, a colourful glass and rock collection that Cory added to regularly, and a lounge corner full of Cory’s favourite things all neatly housed in colourful shelving.

Our backyard was full of flowering trees and perennials, and Cam had recently completed a raised vegetable garden where Cory had a section all to himself. Not much got a chance to grow at the rate Cory pulled stuff out and changed his mind, but he was happy as long as he wore his gloves and could sit on a blanket and not get his legs dirty. Some things didn’t change.

“You don’t like the colour, you can go home,” I pointed out.

“All right. All right. Now can you please...” Mark waggled his finger above Cory who was busy running his truck over and around Mark’s feet while singing a favourite Disney song just under his breath.

At almost seven, Cory was barely recognisable from the withdrawn little boy he’d been two years ago when he was still with Craig, before I’d come out and before he’d come to live with Cam and me when Craig’s life had imploded. He attended a specialist school and was doing remarkably well, noticeably calmer and interacting more. And we were seeing fewer and fewer meltdowns.

He remained quiet and probably always would, and he still needed a lot of time to adapt to new people and environments. But life was a whole lot easier than it had been, and as long as we were careful to consider his needs, our family functioned similarly to other families. We just needed to keep paying attention and plan things ahead of time, things that other parents often never had to consider.

He had his unique set of issues like all kids on the spectrum did, but he was beginning to trust more and more. He was happy to be left with Cam’s parents, and Geo and Sandy had been brought into that circle of trust as well, along with the school and a few of the other parents in our support group. It meant we had a good range of people who could look after him if we wanted to go out, or if Cam needed help when I was away, or any number of reasons. Life was pretty good.

My formal adoption of Cory had gone through with minimal fuss, and Craig continued to be in his life on a regular basis. When we were married, I intended to get Cam’s name added to those adoption papers quickly. We’d initially filed the application in just my name to keep the process as smooth and fast as possible—anything to keep my arsehole homophobic father quiet. But that was going to change.

“Hey, Cory?” I knocked on the countertop and he looked up. “Do you wanna watchUp?”

He beamed. “Yes, please.”

Per Cory’s current behavioural plan, we were working on trying to substitute other distractions in place of movies, and so being offered the chance to watch one out of the blue was a real treat. His eyes danced with excitement.

“Up.Up.Up. Yes. Please. With Mark?” He bounced up and down.

I laughed, and Mark groaned and shuffled his feet off the side of the sofa and onto the floor while keeping his body where it was. He looked damned uncomfortable. Cory climbed carefully into the vacant space, made himself at home, and started up with the truck again.

“Nuh-uh, sweetheart.” I walked across with my hand outstretched. “If you want a movie, then you put the truck on the coffee table for later, okay?”

Cory looked at the truck and thought about it. The outcome was never a foregone conclusion as he took his time to weigh up his options. I bit my tongue and waited. Cam had patience in abundance, more than me, as it turned out, which was a surprise to all concerned.

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