by Sean Kennedy
Dec, of course, was Abe’s best man. He was standing beside Abe’s brother, Will, who we didn’t get along with that well as he was never comfortable around us, “backs to the wall!”, all that kind of juvenile stuff that we are meant to take in good fun. But for that one day they stood there together, differences put aside to celebrate the happiness of a person they both loved. It was a shame that it could only be done on a special day instead of every day.
I sat with Fran and Roger, and, to be honest, we were almost as giddy as Abe and Lisa looked under the natural arch of the tree branch they stood beneath.
But then the celebrant said those words which are like a knife in the heart to any queer person attending a marriage ceremony: Marriage, according to law in Australia, is the union of a man and a woman, to the exclusion of all others, voluntarily entered into for life.
To the exclusion of all others.
That is basically like the government giving you the finger, saying you’re not as special as us, nyah-nyah-nyah.
I could see Dec’s jaw set a little as he heard the words, even though he knew they were coming. And I felt that flush of what could only be likened to shame or embarrassment, as if there was now a huge neon sign over me saying Gay here! I couldn’t help but glance over the aisle at Lisa’s real-life guncle and his partner of nineteen years, and wondered if they felt the same way. Does time lessen the sting, or do you grow even more bitter?
Abe and Lisa also looked a little stony-faced as the words were read—it was the law they had to be said at every marriage ceremony, so it wasn’t like they could do anything about it. Except not get married, and who would want them to go to that extreme?
The celebrant continued speaking, and it was now time for Abe and Lisa to exchange their own personal vows. Lisa, however, turned to look at all of us who were seated, her eyes bright with happiness and nervousness, a special mixture which only seemed to coincide with big events.
“Before we begin,” she said, one hand straying over the small bouquet of purple lilies she was holding, “Abe and I would just like to point out that, no matter what we have to say because the law tells us to, we think love is a universal thing, and we hope that one day we will be able to attend the marriages of those who can’t do so right now.”
To say it was a surprise is an understatement. There was a rumble among the guests, but it seemed positive. I saw Declan scratch at the corner of his eye in that tough-guy-not-gonna-cry way, especially when Abe leaned in to whisper something to him. I saw Will stiffen a little, as if the madness was catching.
Fran reached across to pat my arm, and I heard Roger give a little chuckle of appreciation. Lisa’s guncle was beaming at her proudly, and Dec peered around Abe to catch my eye. I gave a surreptitious thumps-up underneath my elbow, and he grinned.
The vows were exchanged, and it was time to eat, drink, and be merry.
I hadn’t really gotten to see much of Dec during the day. A best man has a lot to do, and he was seated at the wedding table, so Fran and Roger had to put up with me without Dec to buffer the extremes of my personality when I had some free booze in me.
Roger was caught up at the bar when the bridal waltz began, so when the guests were invited to join the newlyweds, Fran grabbed me by the hand before I could protest, and we were whirling around rather idiotically together. Despite the fact that Fran still wasn’t drinking in the hopes of getting pregnant, she was feeding off my mood, and our laughter at times rang out above the music. Fran swung me out under her arm, but instead of holding on to my hand she let me go, and carried on by the momentum I crashed into Dec’s chest, where he was waiting to catch me.
Her mission accomplished, Fran went in search of her husband so her dancing could continue uninterrupted.
“May I?” Dec asked, mockingly formal.
I couldn’t help but look around, but everybody was focused on either their own partners or in watching Abe and Lisa break free from the shackles of the waltz and start dancing less formally but more closely as the music shifted into something more modern but romantic.
“I thought you’d never ask,” I drawled.
Under the fairy lights strung out among the beams of the high ceiling, we danced slowly, hands on each other’s hips and foreheads touching. We said nothing, not wanting to disturb this moment of being together, in the open, amongst family and friends, almost as if it was for our own wedding.
I wanted those few moments to go on forever, but of course they ended before I had time to fully drink them in and appreciate them for what they were—these short spells that never came often enough but burned so brightly when they did, they shielded you from the world without.
The music changed once more and kicked the party off into high gear with some doof-doof music that threatened to cave in my skull. Dec and I moved off the floor, and he joined me at my table, where Fran and Roger, taken away by the overwhelming emotion of the night, seemed intent on now discovering one another’s tonsils.
“What did Abe say to you just after Lisa did her little politicking?” I asked, leaning in close to Dec so he could hear me above the music.
“He said that he better be my best man when you and I drag each other up the aisle.”
“That’s going to be one crowded stage,” I said, now scratching at my eye like Dec had earlier. “I have to have Fran and Roger, and you know my mother would kill me if I didn’t have Tim up there as well.”
Dec laughed and took my hand. “We’ll work with that. When the time comes.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Roger asked, having finally come up for air.
“Nothing,” we shot back, and both began to laugh.
When our time came, it would be the day to end them all. We would have had to wait the longest, so I don’t think anyone would begrudge us if we went all out.
WHEN Abe and Lisa said their good-byes and headed off to the airport hotel for a night’s rest before flying to Tokyo, Fran and Roger came back to our apartment, where we could continue drinking in honour of the newlyweds—or at least have an excuse to continue drinking.
I was amazed at Fran’s willpower to remain a teetotaller. Roger was completely schnozzled under the influence of the demon drink, and was trying to make her capitulate. She remained steadfast. Despite their money having run out, she was still clinging to the hope that eventually they would conceive naturally. Nobody wanted to take that away from her, so I was telling Roger to leave her alone when I realised Dec was taking his time coming back from the loo.
I found him sitting on our bed, a slightly crumpled envelope in his hand.
“Are you okay?” I asked, and he nodded. “What’s that?”
“Something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time,” he said and stood up. He held out his hand, and I took it.
He led me back out into the lounge, where Fran and Roger were still bickering. They saw us standing there hand in hand, and immediately stopped.
“This looks serious,” Fran said.
“It is,” Dec replied. He handed the envelope to her. “I’ve been trying to think of a way to give this to you so that you couldn’t knock it back, or think we’re intruding, or just feeling awkward about it. But there’s never going to be a time like that, so you just have to have it now.”
Unsure of what she was handling, Fran ripped open the envelope with slightly trembling hands and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Roger peered over her shoulder when she opened it, and I saw both of their expressions change as they read what I could now see was a cheque.
“No,” Fran said immediately. “We can’t.”
Roger took the cheque off her and folded it up, as if the contents were too much to look upon.
“You have to,” Dec said, his voice steady, although I could tell he desperately wanted them to take it.
“It’s too much.”
“No. It’s just enough. Guys, I hate saying this, but Simon and I… well, we’re pretty much set up for life. And what’s the point
of us having this money if we can’t help out the people we love when we want to?”
I remained silent, but squeezed his hand to show my support. I wanted to scream how much I loved him, and how much he could surprise me every day we were together, and how he made me proud to be with him, but I knew, and I knew he knew, that all that sentiment was contained in that one hand squeeze.
“And what if it doesn’t work?” Fran asked, and I could see she was ready to break. “What if it’s a waste of money?”
“It will never be a waste of money,” Dec said, so firm that she had to know he wouldn’t back down.
Roger put his arms around her, and when she buried her face in his chest, he looked out at us above her head. “Thank you.”
“That’s what families do. You’re our family.”
It was the smartest decision I ever made to keep my mouth shut. As usual, Dec was handling it expertly when I would have probably ruined it with some glib comment I didn’t mean or just some joke that could puncture the moment. Dec was wrenched away from me as Fran and Roger jumped up to pull him into a bear hug that I was scared he would never break away from alive.
We might not have marriage or kids, but we knew our love was just as valid and just as secure as any other couple we knew. And Dec was right, what we had was family, created out of the odds and ends of people in our lives.
Dec’s hand disentangled itself from the emotional group hold and reached out for mine. I took it, and Dec pulled me into that embrace.
Pulled me home.
Read how Simon and Declan’s story started in
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About the Author
SEAN KENNEDY lives in the second-most isolated city in the world, so it’s just as well he has his imagination for company when real-life friends are otherwise occupied. He has far too many ideas and wishes he had the power to feed them directly from his brain into the laptop so they won’t get lost in the ether.
Visit Sean’s web site at http://www.seankennedybooks.com/.
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