Page 28 of Husband of the Year
“A venue is a good start, but you realize there’s so much more to planning a wedding, right?” Ruth asks.
“I found a blog post about it. We’re going to keep things… simple,” Olan says.
“A blog post? Simple?” Ruth laughs. “Oh, my sweet, sweet, naïve baby. You’re getting married. A gay wedding.”
“Actually, Olan’s…” I begin, still not sure exactly what label he wants to use with other people.
“He was married before,” Kent says. “To a woman.”
“Bi?” Regina asks.
Despite blinking, Olan remains silent.
“Pan? Demi? Ace? Questioning? Something else?”
“Olan doesn’t like labels,” I say, resting my hand on his knee.
“I respect that.” Ruth winks at Olan. “But you’re two men,” she says. “Two gorgeous men getting married. There are expectations. Flowers. Chairs. Drinks. Favors. Seating plans. Cake.”
“Cake. Yes, the most important part,” I say. “We can handle the cake.”
“You need help. A planner.” Ruth’s serious tone catches me off guard.
Our eyes meet, and in that fleeting moment, Olan and I silently acknowledge the high probability of Ruth being right.
“You know, there’s a teacher at Lear who might be able to help,” Kent says.
Vincent looks at Kent. Kent looks at Ruth. They all shift their focus to Olan and me, and in unison, say, “Sheldon.”
“Wait, the first-grade teacher?” I ask. Visions of snow-covered trees and lights, so many lights, at the park by the water, come flooding back.
“We met him at the Lights Festival,” Olan says. “He was with a much taller, quiet man.”
Again, the Lear Bunch glance at each other and, in unison, say, “Theo.”
“Didn’t he offer to help?” Olan asks. “With the wedding.”
“Theo?” Kent asks. “Doubtful. Unless with the menu planning. That might interest him.”
“No, Sheldon,” I say. “When I told him we were engaged, he offered to help. Said if I needed anything to text him. Do I still have his number?” I take out my cell and begin scrolling, searching among the techno landfill that is my phone.
“I’ll connect you,” Kent says. “And he and Theo live together now. They’re engaged.”
With the table cleared and cleaned, Vincent, Kent, Regina, and I gather in the kitchen. Sweetums sits on the counter, the center of attention with many hands reaching out to him, as we chat. The last ferry departs at ten-thirty and we need to leave time to drive and park. Ruth has taken Olan onto the sofa. With her elbows propped on her knees, she leans into him, their proximity allowing for a quiet conversation.
Regina’s explaining her and Ruth’s reconciliation—something about boats and being lost at sea, and I’m fairly certain she’s using metaphors, but I’m only half listening, so maybe there was actual sailing. My attention is focused on Olan and Ruth. Even though I can’t hear them, I’m watching their faces, trying to decipher body language.
Olan’s shoulders are back. Resting against the back of the couch, legs slightly open, his gaze remains fixed on Ruth, who tilts forward with a serious expression. I can’t make out what they’re saying over the conversation I should be listening to, but it appears to be something important.
At a certain point, Olan wraps his arms around Ruth. She holds the back of his head and whispers something into his ear. Of course, I’m curious, but mostly, elation spreads through my chest seeing Olan make this new connection.
We say our goodbyes, and again, Ruth hugs Olan. There’s a small kiss on his cheek, and his eyes dart down quickly. Damn, he’s sexy when he’s blushing.
“Text. Call,” Ruth says to Olan when they pull apart.
“I will.” The half smile on Olan’s face melts my heart.
“I mean it.”
