Art House

by Charley Descoteaux

  “I’m the assistant editor—hey.” The shorter guy playfully elbowed Adam in the side and beamed up at him.

  “At least you didn’t say ‘only the assistant editor’ again.”

  Adam rested his arm across his partner’s shoulders and after a moment tore his attention away and back to Nathan. “One of our first dates when we got back to Portland was to a film festival where the St. Clouds spoke on a panel. Silas mingled us into their circle during the after-party.”

  “We started talking about the film and mentioned that we’d met here the weekend of the screening.” Silas beamed up at Adam again. “And the four of us ended up closing the bar.”

  “We’re so glad to see you again. Be sure and let us know if you need anything, darlings.” Nathan turned to the door, and his eyes widened when he focused on Chase and the canvas. “What is this?”

  The crowd parted for Nathan, and he kissed the Portland contingent’s cheeks, sneaking glances toward the canvas. Finally he stood in front of Chase, grinning like a five-year-old at Christmas. “Well, I believe I asked what this is….”

  “Is Paulie around?” Chase looked past Nathan, and there he was, his face slowly turning pink. “Paulie, I have something for you.”

  Chase and Garrett took the painting into the art room, and Paulie followed, looking sweetly flustered and uncharacteristically silent. Chase slipped the painting out of the envelope—still draped with a clean length of canvas fabric purchased for the unveiling but with a future as a drop cloth—and propped it on the mantel. He turned, and everyone who had been in the lobby had followed them into the room, and the rest of their family had left the kitchen too. Chase felt a little self-conscious, but only for a moment. I’ve missed this!

  He waited, smiling at Paulie, who looked like he might burst, until Garrett started laughing. “Drama queen,” Garrett said, not quite under his breath.

  Chase gently elbowed him and then stepped forward to embrace Paulie. “It’s traditional for painters to thank their patrons with gifts. So, this is my gift to you, Paulie.”

  Chase encouraged Paulie to sit on the nearest sofa, and carefully—but with appropriate flair—pulled the cover from the painting. The room stayed so silent you could’ve heard a heart break, so for a long moment Chase stayed facing the fireplace.

  “Oh….” Paulie stuttered a moment and then popped up to his feet. He stood transfixed for longer than Chase could hold his breath, before slowly walking from one end of the mantel to the other, his hands clasped against his chest and a delighted grin on his face. Paulie stopped in front of the representation of himself and Nathan and, after a long pause, sighed dramatically as he embraced Chase from behind. “This is amazing!”

  As Paulie squeezed the breath from Chase, everyone gazed at the painting. Every few minutes someone would remark on one feature or another, and eventually Chase braved a peek at the room. Everyone smiled except Paulie and Nathan, who were crying.

  “I love your style, darling.” Nathan joined in their hug. “It’s so unconventional. It’s so you. And it’s the perfect portrait for Buchanan House and our family.”

  The wheelchair ramp from Buchanan House’s backyard sat in the middle of the beach, and a few feet away—not quite in the center of the canvas—stood the gazebo. At first glance, the gazebo appeared to be made of sand. After a few seconds, though, it became clear that it was made of people—people who just might be made of sand. Only two of the gazebo’s supports were visible, and one of them was Kyle and Bran—intertwined, Bran’s hair strung with fairy lights and Kyle’s woven with seaweed. The other support was Paulie and Nathan, also twisted around each other, and beckoning to the viewer to step in and join the painting.

  To the left of the gazebo was a well in the sand. Tex and Maria sat on a log beside it with fishing poles, their lines disappearing into a pool of water that was made of limbs and shiny black hair—the dark water protecting Derek and Alex from being full-on nude while not hiding that they were making love. Chase had been worried that Alex wouldn’t appreciate being painted in flagrante delicto, but when he found her in the crowd, she was smiling, and so was her husband.

  The Zarates had left Buchanan House, but Chase and Garrett had emailed and Skyped with Felipe a few times while he worked on their website, so Chase had included them as well. A rock formation in the right foreground—in the wrong section of the canvas for a chiseled and handsome mountain range—made of Felipe and Andres, seemed to be keeping watch over the beach, and the Buchanan House family.

  A very tall—and scary, and mysterious, and completely out of scale for where she stood—woman walked along the water’s edge in the background, wearing a bright purple bikini, swinging a yellow pail in one hand, and dragging a beach towel in the other. On the side of the bucket, where normally a simple repeating pattern of triangles, starfish, or anchors would be, Chase had painted figures—simple, like the tag on the wall in their bedroom—but obviously Chase and Garrett drawing each other over and over, in an Escher-like repeat.

  After a long silence, Nathan pulled back and studied the painting in his theatrical way. “Nice bikini.” He threw a wink over his shoulder to Jess.

  Chase sighed, quietly, but with a great relief that everyone liked it. “I thought so.”

  Jess appeared on Garrett’s other side, frowning lightly. “You’re missing someone.”

  Garrett gently punched her arm as Chase answered. “Maybe if you hadn’t kept him a secret so long, I would’ve had time to finish Rik. Parts of him are on the towel.” Chase pointed to the twisted ends of the towel, which were feet and legs. He looked around for Rik but didn’t see him.

  I hope that’s not a bad sign for Jess.

  Paulie giggled. “Nice. She’s dragging him into the family, caveman—cavewoman-style. Are you going to finish him?”

  Chase shrugged. “We’ll see.”

  Jess punched Garrett’s arm, and while he muttered ow a few times, the rest of their family crowded forward to inspect the painting.

  Dinner was late that night because Eric had a hard time pulling himself away from the painting, even though he blushed furiously the whole time he looked at it. If eating late upset anyone, they didn’t say.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  THE ART room was packed for the screening, every chair filled and people standing three deep in places. It bothered Garrett a little bit, to have so many people behind him in such a small room, but he breathed through it and considered himself lucky that he didn’t keep winding up.

  A shot of the movie poster filled the screen as the audience waited for the St. Clouds to introduce the film. Garrett didn’t think he’d ever get tired of looking at it. The graphic designer had done an excellent job adding the business that needed to be on a movie poster without drowning the beauty of Chase’s painting. Garrett could even make out most of their signature. He reached for Chase’s hand and squeezed it. Chase sat on the end of the row, tense in the crowd just as Garrett was. Garrett had made sure to give Chase an easy exit, in case the film or the crowd, or his prewedding jitters, became too much and he needed to get away.

  Maybe we should have had the ceremony on Thursday, like Nathan suggested. But no, I wanted to be the climax of the weekend and wait until Sunday.

  The St. Clouds entered from the dining room, and all the conversations quieted in a ripple effect that started in the front of the room and quickly moved back until everyone was silent. A thrill raced up Garrett’s spine in anticipation of the film, sure, but he wanted to hear what Shane had to say about it just as much.

  “Hello everyone, and welcome. We made our breakout film here, This Pretty Life, and were honored to be invited to return and make another. This lovely retreat and her family have left their mark on our hearts and our creative life. A fact that will be apparent shortly.”

  Shane looked to Eric, and all heads turned with him. Eric blushed as he nodded, but he didn’t look down or away.

  He’s really come into his own out here—at the
end of the world, as Nathan would say.

  “The main character of this story is named Eric, after one of Buchanan House’s owners. He so generously shared a part of himself with us—don’t worry, not that part, Tim—” Sean winked and waited a moment for the soft laughter to fade before continuing. “—and that conversation was our inspiration for The Answer to Every Question.

  “Eric—both Erics—are bisexual, and after over a decade of making gay films, it was past time to expand our vision, and our representation. In fact, we were lucky enough to find the perfect actor to play Eric, and he’s also bi.”

  Sean extended a hand to Rik and encouraged him to stand. He did, but only for a moment before sitting back beside Jess and taking her hand in both of his. They’d seen the film already, but Jess had said Rik was anxious about what people would think of it and hadn’t really wanted to come to the screening.

  Like he had a choice.

  “I won’t give away the whole story, but I will say two things before we roll: the film passes Bechdel in the first five minutes of dialogue, and Nathan, the ending is for you, darling.”

  The lights went down, and the film started, and Garrett was surprisingly restless. He snuck looks around the room during the first third, at the film’s editor—assistant editor—and his boyfriend, who’d met here on a long weekend retreat and were just adorable, at Jess and Rik, who didn’t seem to be paying much attention to the film even though they faced forward. Rik looked supremely uncomfortable watching himself on-screen, or maybe he was just uncomfortable in the clothes he was wearing—it looked like an outfit his character would have chosen, on the hipster side and much more colorful than his usual wardrobe.

  Garrett had a surprisingly difficult time watching the two lead male actors together and spent the second third of the movie wondering why. It came to him while he watched Rik getting serious about the female lead—he was jealous on Jess’s behalf. Garrett almost laughed out loud when he realized that, but instead he leaned his head against Chase’s shoulder and refocused on the movie.

  The applause began before the credits had ended. Garrett liked the movie but had to admit he loved a good tear-jerking tragedy and thought the St. Clouds’ sad endings were much better. I’ll only be admitting that to myself, however.

  Chase didn’t relax at all after Rik’s character’s lover died in the hospital, but Garrett hadn’t expected him to. Being reminded of anyone’s mortality wasn’t something Chase bore well, and Garrett had known that even before he learned about Chase’s brother.

  The St. Clouds thanked the crowd, the film’s editors, and Chase and Garrett—Shane got a pitch in for them in the process.

  “If you like the painting we’re using as the basis of our movie poster, prints are available here and at several Portland locations. Also, works by both of the artists are hanging here at the camp. Check out their website for more.”

  Sean took the mic from his husband and smiled fondly into the crowd. Everyone hushed and waited for an announcement of their upcoming film. “We’ll start shooting our next project after Christmas and are looking forward to sharing it with you. Right now, congratulations are in order for our star, Arik Brant.” Sean waited for a wave of applause to die back before continuing. He gestured to Rik, who remained seated. “Arik will be back on your silver screens next summer—he’s starring in a big-budget indie, shooting in Canada beginning in another few weeks. Congrats, Rik, you’ll knock ’em dead in the Great White North!”

  The crowd seemed to agree, as did Garrett. He wondered why he had to hear it from Sean, but in the next heartbeat realized that might be the conversation starter he was looking for with the St. Clouds. Not usually shy, he hadn’t done much talking at any of the meetings for fear of coming off like a fanboy. In the weeks since he’d first met them, though, Garrett felt as though he’d done a lot of growing up. Which, after the thought formed, made him laugh out loud.

  If it walks like a fanboy….

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  THE EVENING following the screening was a tough one for Chase—he had hours to wait until he could marry Garrett, and everyone wanted to talk about the movie. He held his ground unapologetically, insisting the world hadn’t really needed another Dead Queer movie, even though it had been well written and the actors all nailed their roles. Everyone had tried to change his mind—except Garrett, who remained mercifully silent—until the St. Clouds agreed with him.

  “Not that we plan to stop making them.” Shane had laughed, and nobody had said anything more, even after he added, “Tragedy is a proven genre, and we have to give the people what they want.”

  He’s not wrong.

  Chase was grateful for Nathan’s help to get dressed for the wedding, and not only because his mind kept wandering. His fingers shook the tiniest bit, but that might not have stopped him if he’d ever worn a tux before. Or if his mind hadn’t kept wandering to Garrett, who was getting dressed a few feet away.

  His own tux felt like a costume or a uniform—strange, but also cool. The suits had looked a little garish hung over the doors of room eight, and he still wasn’t sure what he thought about them. The black pieces were fine, but the deep maroon seemed a little weird for a wedding. Even a fall wedding.

  I’m just nervous. Everyone’s nervous on their wedding day, right?

  Nathan’s tailor had taken their measurements and sent them on their way. Nathan had tried to be casual when he said their tuxes were hanging in his closet, and Chase trusted him so hadn’t had the foggiest idea what he would be wearing until that morning. His own tux was black with a deep maroon vest.

  “It’s a waistcoat, darling,” Nathan had told him, more than once.

  To be fair, Chase’s concentration hadn’t been wandering any further than Garrett since they’d started dressing. He may have said “vest” more than once for Nathan’s benefit.

  Garrett’s slacks fit so nicely Chase wanted to stride over and peel them off him, but not as much as he wanted to get married. Which surprised him almost as much as the feeling that swelled in his chest when Garrett slipped his arms into the jacket’s sleeves. Nathan held it for him and made a few adjustments before turning him toward Chase. The maroon fabric had an oil-slick sheen and looked so good on Garrett it stole Chase’s breath for a moment.

  He approached slowly and drew his fingertips from Garrett’s shoulder to his elbow. “You look amazing.”

  Garrett smiled while he ran his palms down Chase’s crisp white shirt and then traced the line of the waistcoat with his fingers. “You too.”

  They leaned closer together, but before they so much as kissed, Nathan took both of their shoulders and moved them apart. “No you don’t. You’re dressing together under my strenuous objections, remember.”

  Chase’s eyes didn’t leave Garrett’s as he answered. “You and Paulie got dressed together.”

  “But we kept our focus. We didn’t stop to—”

  Chase and Garrett both laughed, but Garrett was the one who spoke. “You were late for your own wedding breakfast.” He turned to Nathan and smiled up at him. “Don’t worry, we’re not taking these off until it’s official.”

  “Okay, then.” Nathan sighed and kissed both of their cheeks before turning to Chase. “Once we get your jacket on—Garrett, where are your shoes, darling?”

  They all looked down, and sure enough, Garrett was barefoot. Chase managed to hide that his mouth watered at the sight, but barely.

  “They’re too small.” Garrett snuck a peck onto Chase’s cheek and went back to the daybed. He slipped his feet underneath, and when they came back out, he wore black Converse without laces. “If nobody minds….”

  Chase shook his head and slipped his arms into his black jacket. As soon as Nathan released the jacket, Chase crossed the room and took Garrett in his arms. He’d meant to say something sweet but wasn’t able to get a single word out, so he let a kiss speak for him. Without planning to, his lips trailed across Garrett’s cheek, over the coarse hair li
ning his jaw, and toward his neck.

  “No you don’t.” Garrett laughed and pushed Chase’s shoulders, but not very hard. “We’re not doing that until later.”

  Jess came up to let them know everyone was ready, and after a quick once-over, the four of them went downstairs.

  They had asked for a casual, informal ceremony, but Chase was surprised to find everyone lounging on the couches in the art room. A few chairs were left from the screening, but otherwise the gathering could have been any weekend—except for everyone’s clothes. The group had dressed nicely but not formally—only Chase wore mostly black. The room was bursting with color even though it hadn’t been decorated—but the camp always looked like a party was about to break out.

  Bran stood in front of the stone fireplace, wearing muted fall colors, an excited smile on his face. “Are we ready?”

  Everyone sat up straighter in their seats as Chase and Garrett took their places facing Bran. He meant to focus on Bran until the ceremony was over, but when Jess kissed their cheeks, he watched her as she squeezed in beside Paulie. Nathan stood behind them, his hands tracing patterns on the back of the couch, wearing a softly wistful smile.

  “Welcome. I’m thrilled to officiate this wedding. It’s proof that good things do come to those who wait. This ceremony isn’t the beginning of their relationship—it’s the start of a new phase, one full of happiness.”

  When Bran turned to him, Chase tensed.

  “Chase, take Garrett’s hands and state your vows.” Bran winced the tiniest bit, and Chase’s smile grew. He hadn’t expected Bran to be nervous too, but he obviously was if his cop voice snuck out. Maybe coaching and teaching sandcastle-building at the community college hadn’t prepared him enough for standing in the spotlight.

  Chase turned to Garrett, and a moment later when Garrett faced him, Chase took both of his hands and held them loosely.

  “Garrett, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I promise to do my best to be the man you deserve—talking about the important things, making sure you sleep occasionally, and standing between you and the rest of the world whenever you need me to. I love you. I’m so….” Chase’s voice cracked, and for a short moment he was too choked up to go on. “—happy and proud to stand in front of our family and promise to do all those things for the rest of my life.”