The Magic in Your Touch

by Sara Bell

  "Yep. They all got together--Seth included--and decided that we both needed a bachelor party. But I think they also knew neither of us really wanted one, so Seth came up with this idea and everyone else pitched in."

  Brandon kissed the tip of Nate's nose. "I'll be sure to thank them. And I'm glad Dad and the rest of them stayed in the main room during your performance. Watching us make love on stage might have been overkill, broadminded though they may be."

  "No kidding." Nate yawned and then stretched in Brandon's arms like a sleepy kitten. "What time is it?"

  Brandon glanced down at his watch. "Eleven-thirty. You gonna turn into a pumpkin at midnight?"

  "Who knew I was marrying a comedian? I promised Gale we wouldn't see each other after midnight. She swears it's bad luck to see each other before the wedding."

  "And as I told her when she informed me that you were spending the night at her house instead of in our bed, that tradition is only for straight people."

  Nate smoothed his hand over Brandon's chest. "Don't fuss at Gale, Bran. She really wants this to be perfect for us."

  "I know, but I hate the thought of spending the night away from you."

  Nate reached up to stroke Brandon's face. "Try not to think about it like that. Look at it this way: after tomorrow, not only will we be spending the rest of our lives together, but we'll have God's blessing to do it."

  Brandon said, "That's what I'm counting on." Then he lowered his head and covered Nate's mouth with his own.

  Nate paced the confines of Brandon's old room, pausing occasionally to flip through Bran's high school yearbooks and to study the many trophies and pictures lining the shelves and walls. He'd talked a good game to Brandon about the two of them spending the night apart, but the truth was, he ached for the feel of Brandon's warm body next to his.

  He'd almost decided to throw himself on the bed and try to force sleep when someone knocked on the bedroom door. He opened it to find Dean Nash standing there, a ratty blue robe thrown over his pajamas and a tray in his hands.

  Nate ushered him into the room and watched as Dean set the tray on Brandon's old school desk. He handed over one of the steaming mugs, waited until Nate took a seat on the edge of the bed, then picked up his own mug and settled himself backwards in the desk chair.

  "I thought maybe a cup of Gale's world-famous hot chocolate might help settle your nerves." He took in Nate's still fully-dressed form and grinned. "I was afraid you might be sleeping, but I can see that isn't gonna happen anytime soon."

  Nate took a slow appreciative sip of his drink. "Thanks, Dean. I don't know if I'm nervous, per se. I think I'm eager more than anything. I'm ready for Brandon and I to put the past behind us and start our new life together. Sort of like a clean slate."

  Dean nodded. "Perfectly understandable, after all you've been through. Personally, I think you've been a rock through this whole thing, especially for Seth."

  Nate shrugged. "He needed me. I think this whole ordeal with our parents hit him harder because he wasn't prepared for it. Even though my mother's," his voice cracked on the word, but he forced himself to continue. "Even though my mother's involvement in the attacks was a surprise to me, I've had six years to come to the conclusion that neither of my parents ever really cared about me."

  "Speaking of parents, that reminds me. I have something for you." Dean reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled out a rolled up scroll tied with a blue ribbon. He handed it to Nate.

  "What is it?"

  "Well, open it and see."

  Nate tugged the ribbon loose and unrolled the paper. It was a birth certificate. Not a legal one, but the kind found in upscale stationary stores. The type to be filled in by hand and then framed.

  In fancy script, someone had filled in the name space with the words, Nathan Llewellyn Nash. His birthday was listed as September twenty-fourth, the day he and Brandon met. But the best part, the part that touched Nate the most, were the names given for his parents: Gale Taylor Nash and Dean Nash. On the back, all the Nash children--and also Seth--were listed as his siblings.

  Nate lifted his eyes from the paper to Dean. "I don't know what to say. I'm stunned."

  Dean reached forward and clapped his hand on Nate's shoulder. "We figured you might think yourself a little old for an actual adoption, so this was the next best thing."

  "This means more to me than you'll ever know, Dean. Thank you." "That's what father's are for, son."

  * * *

  Brandon tugged at his tie. "Are they here, yet?"

  "Calm down, Bran. Seth just called, and they're on their way." Keith sank into one of the plush chairs occupying the church dressing room. "If you don't start taking it easy, I have Mom's permission to give you a sedative."

  "Yeah? Well, you weren't exactly calm and cool on your own wedding day." Brandon pulled on his black tux jacket. "As I recall, you were a nervous wreck."

  "There's a difference between being nervous and being a complete mental case."

  "I know, but I can't help it." He ran his fingers through his tousled hair. "I've almost lost him so many times, Keith. I can't believe he's finally going to belong to me."

  Keith came to his feet and patted his brother on the back. "He's belonged to you since the day you met him, Bran. Do you really think a ceremony is going to make him any more yours?"

  Before Brandon could answer, Wayne stuck his head in the door. "It's time to start seating the guests, Keith."

  With one final pat on the back for Brandon, Keith left. A few minutes later, the door opened again and Dean Nash came in, laughing when he saw the shape his son was in.

  "Damn, Brandon. I thought I was a mess on my wedding day, but I don't hold a candle to you." He fished a comb out of his pocket. "Do something about your hair. Looks like you've been running your fingers through it."

  Brandon did his best to tame his hair, griping as he did so. "Tell me again why I asked you to be my best man?"

  Dean moved in front of Brandon and straightened his tie. "Because you've got good sense. Your brothers make decent ushers, by the way. They've gotten most of the guests taken care of. Now we're just waiting on you."

  "Does that mean Nate's here?"

  "Yep. Got here about ten minutes ago. He's in the other dressing room. We're ready to get to it." Dean started for the door, but Brandon stayed him with a hand on his arm.

  "Daddy?"

  "Yes, Brandon?"

  "Thank you. For everything."

  Dean drew him into a bone crushing hug. "You're welcome, son." He pulled back and chucked Brandon under the chin. "Enough mushy stuff. Nate's waiting."

  * * *

  There were times in Nate's life that he prayed he'd forget, episodes he sent to the fringes of his memory so he wouldn't go crazy from the pain. The site of his mother's coffin as it was lowered into the ground. The sobbing of his brother at her funeral, and the icy coldness of his newly-released father as Leda Morris was laid to a twisted sort of rest. He hoped to forget the site of Mike in a wheelchair, being arraigned on two counts of murder and two counts of attempted murder, and he also hoped to erase the slight satisfaction he felt knowing that at least a certain amount of punishment had been dealt to Mike when the crash had severed his spinal cord, leaving his body powerless from the waist down. He and Dr. Carson had spent long hours discussing the normality of his feelings, and Nate was finally beginning to rebuild the shattered security he'd momentarily lost.

  As much as Nate had to put behind him, there was so much more to commit to memory, to hold to his heart so he could savor each wonderful episode, over and over. The feel of Brandon's arms as he scooped him up at the scene of the accident, the warmth he felt as the Nash family crowded around him at the hospital that night. The love of his brother as they cried out the misery together, both trying to make room for all the happiness to come. All of those memories would serve him well to block out the anguish of the past. Now, here he was, standing in the church two months later, ready to put Nathan Morris
to rest and begin life as Nathan Nash, a new man.

  The door to the dressing room creaked open and Seth slipped in. "We're almost ready, Nate. The music has started."

  "Gotcha." He stood up and gave Seth a wicked grin. "You're looking pretty studly in that tux, brother."

  Seth laughed. "Imagine Brandon's surprise when he sees I'm not wearing that puffy pink dress he ordered for me."

  "Yeah, well, no one ever said Brandon didn't have a sick sense of humor." Nate tugged at his bow tie. "Have you got the ring?"

  "Yes and no."

  "What do you mean 'yes and no'? Seth, this has to be perfect. I--"

  Seth came over to where Nate stood and put his hands on his shoulders. "Calm down, Nathan. I know how important this is to you. Do you really think I'd do anything to screw it up?"

  Nate took a deep, calming breath. "No, of course not. I just need everything to go right today. Sorry, Seth but I'm a nervous wreck."

  "So what else is new?" He punched Nate lightly on the arm. "Lucky for you, to have such an understanding brother."

  Nate rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. You still haven't told me what you meant by 'yes and no.'"

  Seth's eyes softened. "I do have a ring, but it isn't the one you bought for Brandon at the jewelry store. I thought maybe you'd like Brandon to have this one instead." He pulled a worn velvet bag from his pocket and pressed it into Nate's upturned palm.

  Nate's fingers caressed the velvet, his fingertips finding the threadbare spots almost from memory. He didn't need to open it to know what was inside, but he found himself loosening the strings and working the bag open, anyway, as he'd done so many times before. The gleam of the overhead lights picked up the sparkle from the sole diamond stationed at the center of the wide gold band. It was a little bigger than he remembered, having been sized up to fit Brandon's larger finger, but there was no mistaking whose ring it was. He looked up from the treasure in his hand to stare at his brother. "How did you get Grandpa's ring?"

  Seth shrugged. "It was no big deal. I remembered Grandma Morris showing it to us when we were kids, and I thought maybe you'd like to have it for Brandon. The ring you bought him was great, but I thought maybe this one would mean a little more to you both."

  Nate nodded. "You know it does. Grandma Morris bought this ring for Grandpa when the two of them barely had two nickels to rub together. She made enough money to buy it by taking in mending work from the neighbors. That was before his business took off, of course." He smiled. "When she found out I was gay, Grandma told me I could have the ring to pass on to my own husband some day. Then she died, and all her personal effects went to Dad." He looked at his brother again. "How did you get it, Seth?"

  "I went to see Dad a few days ago, Nate." Nate started to say something, but Seth stopped him. "Before you get all riled up, let me explain. When you told me you were getting married the first weekend in January, instead of the day before Thanksgiving like you'd planned, I didn't like it, but I understood. To tell you the truth, I was afraid you would end up feeling guilty about what happened with Mother and postpone it even longer. What with the funeral and Mike's arraignment, I understood that you couldn't go ahead with the wedding as planned, but it still irked me that you and Brandon had to suffer yet again because of what those people did to you. I wanted this day to be as special for you as possible. I figured the ring might help. I remembered the way you always liked to hold it and try it on when we were kids. So, I went to Dad and told him I wanted it. I told him why, too."

  Nate snorted. "Bet that went over well."

  Seth grinned. "Actually, I think he was more surprised to see me standing on his doorstep than anything else. He and I haven't said word one to each other since that day at the sheriff's office. He didn't even look at either one of us at Mother's funeral. I told him what I wanted and why. I told him he owed it to you."

  "What did he say to that?"

  "Not a word. He left me standing there, and went to get the ring. He placed it in my hand, and shut the door in my face. That was it. I took the ring to the same jewelry store where you bought the new one for Brandon, and had it sized." He patted his pocket. "I have the one you ordered too, just in case you'd rather give it to him, instead."

  Nate grabbed Seth and pulled him into a fierce hug. "You know I don't. Thanks, Seth. I love you."

  Seth pulled back and cuffed Nate gently on the cheek. "Right back at you. Now, time to get you hitched."

  * * * If there was one thing Nate hated, it was being the center of attention. He thought sure he'd be self-conscious as he walked down the isle, knowing everyone was staring at him. But as soon as he saw Brandon waiting for him at the altar, all the other people in the room ceased to exist.

  Pastor Oakley smiled as Nate took his place beside Brandon. He pulled a small prayer book from the folds of his robes and asked Bran and Nate to face each other.

  "We're assembled here today, as the friends and family of Brandon and Nathan, to witness the joining of two lives, two hearts, and two souls becoming as one."

  "Love is not to be taken lightly, but to be savored, cherished. Life is ripe with uncertainty, but the love of a good partner is an anchor to us during times of chaos and doubt. As we are told in the First Epistle of John, chapter four, verse eighteen, 'There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear. . .' Brandon and Nathan stand before you in love and ask you to rejoice with them as they seek the blessings of Almighty God on their union."

  The vows came next, and though he tried to capture every word, Nate could recall very little of the actual dialogue later on. What he did remember was Brandon's face as he slid his ring on Nate's finger, and also the look of pure joy in his eyes when Nate returned the favor.

  Pastor Oakley closed his prayer book and addressed the congregation. "It is with great pleasure that I declare Brandon and Nathan joined in the sight of God. May all his blessings be upon you."

  Nate thought his heart would burst, such were the feelings of completeness. Then Brandon leaned forward to kiss him, and Nate lost the ability to think at all.

  * * *

  Brandon shivered as Nate licked the icing from his fingers. When it was Nate's turn to feed him, he opened his mouth and allowed Nate to ease a small bite of cake between his lips. Nate groaned as Brandon flicked his tongue across the pad of Nate's index finger.

  "Do you think we can make our exit now?"

  Brandon laughed. "Don't you want to finish your cake first?"

  The glow in Nate's eyes was so seductive, Brandon's face flushed. Nate said, "I'm hungry, but not for cake."

  Brandon grinned. "I think maybe we could get away with cutting out early." He took Nate's hand and the two of them slipped away from the reception. They'd almost made it to the door when they came face to face with Gale and Grandma Taylor.

  The two women exchanged knowing smiles. Gale said, "Looks like we've got a couple of deserters on our hands, Mom."

  Grandma Taylor nodded. "I should certainly hope so. I'd be worried about this marriage if the desire to be alone together had already waned. They've only been married for four hours." She gave them each a tight hug. "I'd better go find Grandpa. Too much champagne gives him gas."

  Gale shook her head at her mother's retreating back. "That woman does have a way with words." She turned back to Brandon and Nate. "Okay, you two fugitives. If you're going to leave, we need to do this right. Oh, before I forget, did you get the package from Grandpa and Grandma Nash?"

  Brandon nodded, "Yes, ma'am, and the card. I know they were pretty upset about not being able to come up for the ceremony, but Grandma's arthritis was acting up again. We understood."

  "I know, sweetie." She patted his cheek and then looked down at her watch. "Give the boys fifteen minutes to finish up with the car, and then we'll announce your departure so everyone can line up and throw birdseed at you."

  Brandon sighed. "Whatever you think, Mom. I--" He realized what she'd said. "Car? What car? My car? Oh, God, what are they doing to my Ca
maro?"

  Gale just laughed and said, "You'll see." Then she sauntered down the hall to gather the well wishers.

  Alone in the hallway, Brandon pulled Nate into his arms and rested his forehead against Nate's. "They're violating my car."

  Nate chuckled. "It's your own fault, you know. You're the one who insisted on driving the Camaro today instead of my sensible new Buick."

  "I know, I know. I should have guessed our brothers would do something like this." He kissed Nate's cheek. "Do you miss the Ford?"

  "No. After what happened with Mike, I don't think I'd ever be able to enjoy it again. It was nice of Cain to take it back without billing me for the damage."

  Brandon's eyes darkened. "It could have been so much worse." Just thinking about it was enough to make him feel ill.

  Nate didn't say anything. He simply held Brandon until the worry left his face.

  * * *

  Nate reached over and brushed the birdseed out of Brandon's hair. "Well, that wasn't too bad, now was it?"

  "Have you actually looked at, my car, Nate?"

  Nate snickered. "Well, I thought the 'Just Married' sign stretched across the rear bumper was a nice touch."

  "That was the only nice part. Sixteen condoms filled with whipped cream and attached to the car with magnets. The words, 'Brandon's Gonna Score' written on the windows with white shoe polish. And lets not forget the exciting array of old shoes and tin cans tied to the bumper. When we get to the courthouse, I'm going to un-decorate while you file your paperwork. Then we'll swing by our place to change and then head to the airport."

  Nate was only half listening. He patted his jacket to make certain his papers were still inside. In just a few minutes, Nathan Morris would no longer exist. He'd be Nathan Nash for the rest of his life. Brandon pulled up to the courthouse and cut the engine. "You sure you want to do this? No doubts?"

  "None. Your family is already more like family to me than my own ever was, Seth excluded, of course."

  Brandon leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Want me to come in with you? I can un-decorate later if you do."