Some Like It Hopeless (A Temporary Engagement) (22 page)

They stood in front of the drinks, trying to decide what Christian would want without calling him up. Because he was making his shrimp tonight and they didn’t want to disturb his preparations.

Cassandra said, “Margaritas?”

“He doesn’t drink.”

“Neither does Brady.”

They grimaced at each other, then sighed.

Shane said, “What do people drink if they don’t
drink
?”

“Root beer?”

“It’s like I’m five years old again.”

“What about Coke?”

Shane hung his head. “I don’t even know if he drinks Coke. Seriously.”

Cassandra grabbed for a bottle. “Root beer it is.”

“What we do for love.”

Cassandra slid her hand through his arm. “What we do for love.”

And then they both stopped, in the middle of the aisle, with root beer in the cart.

Shane said softly, “I like him.”

“No veto?”

He shook his head.

“Do you think it’s possible to love two people?”

He looked at her then. “Yes. I know it is.”

“I told him I loved him.”

“Mm. I was privy to the aftermath.”

Cassandra shook her head. Took a deep breath. “I didn’t expect him to say it back. I just thought it should be out, in the open. Plus, I had to think about it.”

Shane muttered, cursing at her to never do that again, and she said, “He can’t have children. Vasectomy.” She forced it out through a tight throat, refusing to cry in a grocery store aisle.

“Oh, Cass. What god hates you?”

“Right?” She shook her head. “
He
was probably thinking, ‘Nope, only need one of those. Make sure she doesn’t breed.’”

Shane wasn’t sure if her tears were what started first or if it was the laughter.

She looked up, at the industrial ceiling of a suburban supermarket, and raised her fist. Shook it at a God neither one of them was sure existed, and cried and laughed.

Shane wrapped his arms tight around her. Cried with her, and wondered if this was the reason for their love. The reason she needed lots of parts of hearts– to prop her up when she wasn’t strong enough on her own.

To cling to Shane when loving Brady hurt, to be snug in Brady’s arms when Shane’s love wounded.

And to have Christian on standby when both of them failed.

Shane said, “Maybe Brady won’t love you back.”

“It would be easier, wouldn’t it? Easier if you hadn’t loved me back and we could go our separate ways. Easier if Brady wouldn’t love me back and I didn’t have to be constantly reminded that I had his heart, just not all of it. Go find someone else who could give me everything I wanted.”

Shane nodded because it
would
be easier and she said, “Yeah, I’m just not that lucky.”

He sighed. “And you say that with a straight face. I’ve seen him au naturel.”

She laughed and squeezed and pushed him away. “Yes. There are some side benefits.”

“It does lean to the side, doesn’t it? I thought I noticed that.”

She wiped her eyes. “You’re not going to be even a little bit jealous? You’ll make me feel bad at how I treated Christian.”

“Oh, I am going to be the cattiest, jealous queen you ever did see. Every fight, I’m on your side. He leaves his underwear on the floor? What a bastard.”

“Ditto could be said about you and Christian.”

“I know.”

Cassandra started walking again. “We’ve got a strange kind of menage a fourth going on.”

“
Ménage à quatre
? Kinky. I like it.”

“With root beer.”

“Ugh. Ruin it, why don’t you? No kink goes on when it’s root beer flowing freely.”

She looked into the cart and nodded. Absolutely zero kink.

Shane glanced at her. “You going to call him?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. He hasn’t called me.”

Shane bit his tongue.

“Maybe I’ll call him.”

He nodded. “I mean, you just have to. If only for the side benefit.”

The shrimp was delicious. Christian had grilled mushrooms with it this time, and Shane had thought he would die it was so good.

They’d eaten outside, the setting sun their entertainment, and then Cassandra had taken the leftovers inside, saying she needed to be alone with it. And to not follow her for a few minutes.

Christian hadn’t even blushed, and Shane thought they might get so comfortable with each other they’d be like an old married threesome.

Christian watched her go inside and said, “She loves you.”

“Cassandra? She does. And you could be just a little bit jealous about it.”

“I am. Not because you love her back, but because I wish I had that myself.”

“You can. She’ll love you, too. Eventually.”

Christian laughed. “No, she won’t. But I don’t need her to love me like that. Because I have you. You love me like that.”

Shane blinked and Christian said, “You love me no matter what. I could tell you that I only ever want to be friends and what would you do?”

“I would tell you good luck with that.”

“And then?”

“And then I would be your friend.”

Christian smiled at him. “I don’t know what kind of water you two drank when you were kids but I’d like some. I’d like to be a part of it, a part of you.”

Shane put his head in his hands. “This is my punishment. For Cassandra. For loving her, for her love. I couldn’t give her everything she wanted, and now you can’t give me everything I want. Stuck in the hopeless friend zone forever.”

Christian put his hand on Shane’s thigh. “Shane. I don’t want to be your friend.”

Shane looked at the thigh on his hand. At the physical contact. At the first time Christian had instigated.

Shane lifted his head out of his hands and when his eyes met Christian’s, Christian said, “I’m a good Mormon gay boy. That’s who, what, I am. I believe in love for time and all eternity, and maybe others don’t believe in it for me, but that’s what I’m offering you. I don’t want a fling with you; I want forever. I want to get old and gray with you. I want to believe that we’ll be having brunch together for the next sixty years, and then for a few millennia after that.”

Tears prickled Shane’s eyes but he said, “You do take the long view.”

Christian said, “I’m asking you to marry me, Shane.”

Shane’s bottom lip wobbled and he whispered, “But you’re not on your knees.”

Christian smiled, and went to his knees. Christian held his hands out, and when Shane gently grabbed them, Christian said, “Shane, I love you. I love everything about you. I love me when I’m with you.

“I love how fearless you are. How loyal. I love your flamboyance and your optimism. I love that you haven’t given up on me.”

Shane shook his head. “Never.”

“I didn’t think I would ever have this. I didn’t think I could; I didn’t think I should.” He grinned when Shane grimaced at that hateful should.

Christian said, “I don’t think this will be easy. For me, for you, for my family. But it will be worth it.” He brought Shane’s hands up, kissed them. “Will you marry me?”

One tear spilled over, and then another.

Shane opened his mouth, and for the first time in his life, he was speechless. He sat there, crying, looking down into eyes that loved him. Eyes that were asking him to marry him, eyes that wanted to be with him forever.

He cleared his throat, because he wasn’t going to ruin this moment by not being able to say yes.

And then he held up a finger, and cried just a little bit more.

He hadn’t
prepared
for this. No daydream, no fantasy, had involved Christian on his knees, proposing.

And Christian just waited. Patient as the day.

As patient as Shane had been with him.

Shane said, “I love you.”

Christian nodded. And waited some more because that hadn’t been a yes.

Shane cleared his throat. “This is never going to happen again. I want to enjoy it as long as possible.”

Christian scooted on one-knee toward him. Smiling. “Is it going to eventually be a yes?”

“Yes.”

“Good enough.” He rose up, placing his hands on either side of Christian’s face and pecking his lips. “Love you.”

Shane pulled him down onto his lap and kissed Christian for real.

A flash in the dark blinded them as Cassandra took a picture, capturing that moment forever.

She waved the camera at them, smiling, and said, “Surprise.”

Christian called his sister the next day. He could hear his nieces and nephews playing in the background. Loudly.

And he knew he’d never have that. No kids, when he’d been told his whole life that’s what a family was. When that’s what he’d wanted his whole life.

He listened to his sister talking excitedly, telling him about school events and milestones.

When she paused, asked him what he’d been up to, he said, “I’m getting married.”

Lynell yelled, “What! To who?”

Christian took a deep breath. “His name is Shane.”

There was a long pause and Christian closed his eyes. He finally said, “Are you surprised?”

“. . . No. A little.”

“Mom and Dad will be.”

“They’re going to be shocked. But they won’t be surprised, Christian.”

He blinked. He’d tried so hard to hide it when he couldn’t. He’d tried to be something that he wasn’t.

And everyone had always known.

The knot that had sat in his stomach for the last twenty-eight years loosened.

Everyone already knew. How could it be so wrong to be. . .

How could it be so wrong to be
gay
when everyone could know just by looking at him?

He turned to Shane, who was sitting on the kitchen counter swinging his legs and eating guacamole out of the bowl with his finger. Shane watched Christian. Just let him do what had to be done.

Christian smiled at him, and Shane smiled back.

Lynell said, “Do you want me to tell them first?”

“They’re not going to come. I already know that. But I thought they should know.”

“I’ll come.”

Tears sprang into his eyes and he turned away from Shane.

He opened his eyes wide, blinking rapidly and saying softly, “Thank you, Lynell. I would like that.”

Cassandra didn’t call Brady.

It had been almost a month since he’d walked out. And hadn’t walked back in.

She wasn’t sure if that’s what she was waiting for. For him to walk back in.

She wasn’t sure why she was waiting at all.

Except maybe just putting it off as long as possible because, like ripping off a Band-Aid, it was going to hurt. Whether it came off slow or fast, she knew whatever happened next would hurt.

She flipped through bridal magazines with Shane. Picked colors with Christian, because he could not be left alone with that decision. They didn’t want to end up with black and white table cloths. Or plaid.

Dear God, not plaid.

And every time she got into her little peach lady, she thought of Rodrigo and the pool. Thought of the penthouse views and the air tub.

Thought about the long drive to Brentwood that had become second nature. And Sunday evening meetings followed by a long drive.

She didn’t think about sleeping next to a hot body who couldn’t sleep without her. She didn’t think about eating off one finely built chest.