by TJ Klune
And I saw the stuttering breath.
The hitching of his chest.
And it took everything I could not to run to him.
But I walked that long walk next to my father.
I never looked away.
Neither did he.
The smile on his face when I finally stood before him was the widest I’d ever seen.
My dad squeezed my arm before he let me go. Before he took his place at my side, Dad broke protocol and hugged Vince tightly, kissing him on the cheek. The audience laughed as Vince hugged him back, watching me over Dad’s shoulder.
Dad stepped back, winked at me, then went to stand next to Sandy.
And then it was just the two of us.
(And the fifty or so people around us. Semantics.)
He took his hands into mine and didn’t even seem to care that they were sweaty.
That was true love right there.
We weren’t religious. We didn’t have any specific faith. My family were lapsed Catholics, and the only time Vince had been inside a church was for his mother’s funeral. Sandy had directed us toward a woman he volunteered with at Wingspan, which catered toward the LGBTQ+ youth. The woman, a lesbian named Jenny, was apparently an ordained Unitarian minister who had done other same-sex weddings. She was older, and kind. When we’d met her a few months previous, she’d assured us she’d be more than willing to officiate and make it about us instead of being too mired in faith. We’d read over what she’d say and saw hardly any changes to be made. It was to be short and sweet, given that the vows were going to be what was the most important.
Which apparently I sucked at.
So when she spoke, I knew what she was going to say.
And that’s when I knew it was real. All of this was real.
“It is written,” she said, voice loud and clear, “that the greatest of all things—the most wonderful experience in the world—is love. Vince and Paul, into your lives has entered a deep and nurturing love, and you have asked me to help you celebrate and affirm that love. It is a great honor you have bestowed upon me, and I shall cherish it, as you obviously cherish each other.”
And I never looked away from Vince. Not once. Not the entire time she spoke. I didn’t think I actually even heard what she said aside from the beginning. And while I continued to sweat, Vince looked remarkably at ease, like just having me here in front of him was all he needed to be calm. I didn’t know what that said about him—or me, for that matter—but it didn’t matter. Not now. Not when I was getting to have something I never really ever thought could be mine.
I should have been using the time to think of something coherent to say.
I was mostly staring at Vince’s lips.
I was a terrible almost-husband.
So I startled a little when Jenny said, “Vince and Paul have written their own vows, as a sign of their love and respect for one another.”
“Bullshit,” Sandy coughed behind me like an asshole.
I ignored him.
“They will now recite them in front of their friends and family,” Jenny continued, “who will bear witness to the love between these two men. Vince? Paul? You purposefully didn’t give me an order as to who was going first. I think you told me you had a plan for that?”
Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.
“Right,” Vince said, suddenly looking determined. “We have a very serious plan as to decide who is going first.”
He let go of me and brought up his left hand, palm up, and made his right hand into a fist, resting it on top of the other.
I did the same.
“Jesus Christ,” I heard Charlie groan behind me. “Are you being serious?”
“On three?” Vince asked.
“On three,” I agreed.
He leaned forward and dropped his voice to a whisper so I would be the only one that could hear him. “You’re going down, Auster.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Bring it, Future Auster.”
The smile was blinding.
He said, “One, two, three.”
I went paper.
He went scissors.
He never went scissors.
He always went rock, because he didn’t understand how to play Paper, Rock, Scissors like a normal person. He had never—
“Got you,” he said, obviously pleased with himself.
“You tricked me,” I said, sounding outraged. “You knew how to play it this whole time!”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s Paper, Rock, Scissors, Paul. Duh. Everyone knows how to do it. God, I played you like a fiddle.” He frowned. “I don’t think I know what a fiddle is. I don’t even know how I know that word.”
“And it was going so well,” Corey sighed.
“Nothing has lit on fire,” Nana said. “I can change that if needed. I brought a canister of gasoline and some matches in the car.”
“And why did you bring that?” Dad asked.
“You never know when you need to burn your way out of a bad situation,” Nana said flatly. “I don’t want this to turn into another Des Moines, Iowa, disaster.”
“You’ve never been to Des Moines,” Mom said from behind Vince.
“Sure I haven’t,” Nana said. “That’s exactly right. I’ve never been there. And I’ve never gone under the name Eva St. James while in Des Moines in 1958, either, so don’t you worry about that.”
“This is pretty much normal for this family,” Darren told Jenny. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“You’re part of this family,” Mom said, patting him on the arm. “You’re welcome.”
Darren looked inordinately pleased at that.
“Vince gets to go first,” I muttered. “Because he cheats.”
“Don’t hate the player,” Vince said. “Hate the game.”
“Maybe we should proceed?” Jenny asked.
“Right,” Vince said, and suddenly, he was nervous again, which made me nervous again. He bit his bottom lip and looked down between us for a moment. He breathed in, held it, and then breathed out again before he looked back up at me.
He said, “For a long time, I felt alone. My, uh. My parents were… well. They were focused on other things. They had people depending on them. They had important jobs. They had priorities. And I—I wasn’t one of them. I wasn’t a priority. I wasn’t anyone’s priority.”
He shook his head and reached out for me again. I grabbed his hands and squeezed his fingers tightly. “So for a long time, I felt alone. I had friends. Good friends, even. But it still felt like I was missing something. Something that I could… I don’t know. Something that I could call my own. Something that I could point out and say that’s mine.
“Mom died, and at the end, before she passed, she told me she was sorry. That she wished she could have been more to me. That she could have done more for me. And I might have hated her for it, might have thought it was too little too late, but I didn’t. I didn’t think that because the week before, I’d met a man named Paul Auster and had fallen in love.”
He laughed quietly to himself. “I knew. From that moment I first saw you. I knew that you were going to change everything. I didn’t know why. I just knew I needed to know your name, and that once I knew that, then I could get to know you. And once I did that, then everything would be okay. And so I did. I learned your name, Paul. I followed you around. You were exasperated by me, you were annoyed with me. And I just wanted to know everything about you. Darren told me I was being stupid about it. That I would scare you off, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to be by your side as much as I could.” He shrugged, and I saw his determined expression stutter for a moment. “You were… God, you were this person, this snarky, sarcastic person who was unlike anyone else I’d ever met. And the more I got to know, the more I wanted it for good.
“I’ve been told we fell too fast. That it wasn’t normal. That it wasn’t realistic. That it wouldn’t last. But I don’t care what those people say, because they don’t know you like I do
. They don’t know how you look in the morning when your hair sticks up in different directions. They don’t know that you call pineapple on pizza an affront to all that’s holy. They don’t know that even though I might not be the smartest person in the world, that you don’t treat me like I’m stupid. They can see you, they can see the sarcasm. They can see your sass. But I don’t think they can see your heart, your perfect, fierce heart like I can.”
He chuckled wetly, somehow still in control. “I didn’t have much. I didn’t have a big family I could call my own. I didn’t have people that were my people.” He looked around at the people who stood with us, before turning back to me and taking another breath. “Until you. Paul, until you, I didn’t know what it meant to have a mom and a dad. To have a Nana. I had a brother, but I didn’t have someone who could be my brother and my sister. I didn’t have a Daddy. I didn’t have a queen who loves you almost as much as I do. I didn’t have any of those things, until you. Because you gave them to me, Paul, just as surely as you gave me yourself, and I promise you, with all that I am, that I will protect them, that I will love them, that I will care for them. And I promise you, Paul, that I will love you forever, okay? I just wanna love you forever. That’s all I ever wanted, and this is real, okay? I promise you it’s real. We’re gonna be good. I know it. We’re gonna be so, so good. I’ll make sure of it. Because until you, I didn’t have a home. And now I do. So. That’s… good. Um. That’s it. That’s all I had to say.”
I gaped at him.
He gave me a wobbly smile.
Jenny said, “Paul, would you like to—”
I promptly burst into tears. “You fucking asshole!” I shouted at him.
The crowd gasped.
“Oh no,” Sandy moaned, voice thick and wet.
“Yes!” he crowed, dropping my hand so he could fist pump like he was Judd Fucking Nelson. “Suck it! I won! I knew I would get you!”
“You’re crying too!”
“Well, yeah,” he said as his voice broke, and it knocked the breath from my chest. He reached up and wiped his eyes. “I love you, Paul. We’re getting married. This is the best day of my life. Of course I’m crying.”
I don’t think I can be blamed for tackling him then.
He laughed as we went down off the raised altar onto the grass, landing with a jarring crash.
Our guests gasped again, like the drama queens they were. They acted like they’d never been to a gay wedding before where one groom launched himself at the other groom. Amateurs.
I was straddling Vince, and his hands were resting on my thighs, and the tears were falling freely now. “I’m going to marry the shit out of you,” I told him. “You have no idea.”
“I think I have some idea,” he said.
“I can’t beat what you said, because that was some damn fine English if I do say so myself.”
“Why thank you. The computer had a thesaurus. It helped.”
“Do you believe me when I say I love you?”
“I do.”
“And do you believe me that I’m gonna love you even when we’re old and gross?”
“Yeah. I do.”
“And do you believe me when I say I would kick anybody’s ass who tries to fuck with you?”
He choked out another laugh. “Oh yeah.”
“Good.” I held out my hand, not looking away from him. “Rings.” Nothing happened. “Oh my fucking God, give me the fucking rings.”
Sandy and Darren both leapt forward, dropping the rings in my hands as Wheels began to bark from where he sat in Nana’s arms. Everyone else around us was silent, most likely in horror. But that was okay. This wasn’t about them. This was about me and the guy I was sitting on.
He held up his hand and I slid the ring on his finger. It was a simple silver band, thick and shiny, with today’s date and our initials engraved inside. Mine was the same, and he took it from me and placed it on my own finger. It felt heavy, like a brand, and I loved every second of it.
“Jenny!”
“Uh. Yes? Paul?”
“Do you have to say anything else before I can kiss the holy hell out of Vince and make him my husband?”
“Um, maybe?”
“Then say it!” I demanded. “I need to mack on my man for real.”
“This is so goddamn lovely!” Sandy wailed. “It’s everything I hoped it would be!”
“Okay, then. By the power invested in me by the state of Arizona, I now pronounce you husband and husband. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Paul and Vince Auster. You may kiss your—”
But Vince had already captured my mouth with his own, and it was the best goddamn first-married-kiss in the history of the world. The wedding party behind us cheered. Our guests clapped slowly, like they were unsure of what just had happened.
I didn’t care. I wasn’t focused on that.
Instead, I kissed my husband for all I was worth.
Until you, Vince.
Until you.
Epilogue: Robert and Jeremy
THE REST was a whirlwind. We stood for photos, some with all of us, many with just me and Vince. I didn’t remember a lot of it, but that was okay. Later, I’d see the finished products, and there would be nothing but hearts in my eyes, an awed smile on my face as I looked at Vince. There would be one that would be my favorite above all. It wasn’t staged, just one of the hundreds of moments that day held. Charlie took it, and it showed Vince and I standing off away from everyone else, ties undone, jackets off. Vince had his hands on my hips, and mine were around the back of his neck. His forehead was pressed against mine, his eyes closed, a contented smile on his face. That would be the photograph that would be hung in our home, the one I’d look at over and over and over again to know that I was loved with his whole heart.
But that would be later.
There was food and dancing and speeches given. Sandy bawled halfway through his best man speech, demanding that he could get a do-over once he was more composed. We all agreed and he nailed it the second time around, telling stories of love and life and apparently every single embarrassing thing I’d ever done. People were starting to stare at me strangely by the time he was finished, but he looked pleased with himself, so I just let it go.
Darren did the same for Vince, his a bit gruffer than Sandy’s, more serious. He told everyone listening that he always worried that Vince would end up with someone who couldn’t appreciate him for every facet of who he was, but he didn’t worry about that anymore. He toasted us, wineglass raised in our direction, and I mouthed thank you. The Homo Jock King nodded and took his seat next to Sandy, who leaned over and whispered something in his ear. I saw the mask slip again, a quiet smile on his face. I began to realize I was seeing that more and more, and knew my best friend had a lot to do with it.
We danced. All of us did. Vince and I were first, and we swayed back and forth while everyone looked on. I still stepped on his feet, stupid Groupon dance lesson be damned. But he didn’t mind. I told myself that I should probably keep him around because of that.
And then Mom cut in, and I held her close. I choked on a laugh as I looked over her shoulder to see my father taking Vince for a spin around the dance floor. They moved gracefully, much better than Vince or I ever had.
“That’s nice, isn’t it?” Mom said.
“It is. And here I am, stepping all over you.”
“Funny how I don’t mind.”
“Funny.”
“We love him,” she said as we watched Vince dip my father, something I would never forget.
“I know,” I said. “Thank you. I don’t know if I ever told you that before. For loving him like you both do.”
She patted me on the chest. “You don’t have to thank us. You just have to promise me you’ll take care of each other as best you can. That’s all I ask.”
“We will.”
Nana eventually cut in, demanding that we recreate the dance scene from Dirty Dancing. “I’ll get a running start,” she said. “I figu
re I need at least twenty feet. I jump, you catch me, and then lift me above your head.”
“Uh, maybe we shouldn’t. I don’t think Vince would—”
“Wow,” Nana said. “Married for three hours, and already playing the subservient wife. It was nice knowing you, kid. Let me know if you find your balls again. Sherry! What are your thoughts on lifting an older woman above your head?”
Darren’s mother, who’d driven down from Phoenix, said, “I’m a nurse. I lift older women all the time.”
“Good,” Nana said. “I’m going to get a running start. Make sure you don’t treat yourself to a handful. This isn’t that kind of dance.”
Vince found me later, standing out on the patio, looking up at the stars. He wrapped an arm around my waist as he came up next to me, leaning in to kiss my neck. I shivered at the scrape of his teeth near my jaw. “Hey,” he murmured.
“Hey.”
“What’re you doing out here?”
“Just… breathing.”
“Breathing’s good.”
“Yeah.”
“You good?”
“Better than, I think.”
He nuzzled me again. “Good. Now, since we’re not going on a honeymoon for a few weeks, I have an idea.”
“What’s that?” I said, turning until we were face to face.
He leaned in and brushed his nose against mine. “What say we get Wheels and get on outta here? We’ll go home. I’ll take off your clothes. And then I’ll Freddie Prinze Junior your butt so hard, you’ll be walking funny tomorrow.”
“That still doesn’t mean what you think it means.”
He arched an eyebrow at me. “Is that a no?”
“Nope,” I said. “Definitely not a no. But let’s make it so I’m walking funny for at least two days, Mr. Auster.”
He grinned. “That sounds good to me, Mr. Auster.”
“Wow,” Sandy said, causing both of us to jump. “You do realize that sounds exactly like your parents, right? That’s unfortunate.”
I glared at him, only to find Darren and Corey standing next to him with amused looks on their faces. “Excuse you. We were having a moment.”
