Chapter 19 What Remains, What Endures #2
“Ever my friends and biggest supporters,” Colin muttered, his voice edged with sarcasm. He moved to the window and stood, looking out at the Rivanna River. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered. Then ran his hands over the new octagon window. “Did it really only take forty-five minutes?”
“I don’t think it took that long.”
Colin turned toward the kitchen, and Joshua followed, standing in the doorway watching while Colin inspected the new stove, dishwasher, and refrigerator. “You pick these?” he asked.
“I did. I hope you approve.”
“I do, but this is your kingdom.” He waved at the empty walls. “Cupboards?”
“They’re on their way. Graham said they’d be here sometime Thursday and go up on Friday. “In the meantime”—he gestured to the boxes piled against the walls—“if we need dishes and such, they’re all there.”
Colin’s gaze drifted from corner to corner, his shoulders loosening as he took it all in. “Coffee machine?”
“On the porch.”
Colin turned and moved toward the door, each step steadier than the one before.
When Joshua entered, he was smiling and running his hands over his stationary bike. “Seems none the worse,” he observed, then nodded toward the coffee machine, which sat on the counter with several of their favorite mugs nearby. “I approve.”
“We were lucky. That door was closed, and we spent extra when we bought it to get a good one, so not much damage out here.” He nodded toward the curved coat hangers in the walls. “And thankfully, that’s where your leather was hanging.”
Colin slid his hand down the sleeve of his beloved leather. “Thankfully, indeed,” he murmured, voice low with relief. He glanced at Joshua. “Kept me warm on that very long road.”
Joshua walked to his side and wrapped both arms around his neck. “How does it all feel, my yedid?”
Colin drew him close, then inhaled a long, deep breath.
“I have to tell you… I was scared. But oddly enough, it feels like home,” he told Joshua.
“It looked pretty much this same way the day we moved in. Took us a while to get organized then, too.” He shrugged.
“This feels about like that,” He kissed Joshua, then kissed him again.
“Just with more”––he drew in a long breath––“history.”
“You ready to see upstairs?”
“How is it?” Colin asked.
“It’s fine. Now.”
Colin nodded, then turned, and still holding Joshua’s hand, they walked through the kitchen and living room to the bottom of the stairs.
David and Nate were still on the front porch, sitting in lawn chairs, and Colin paused to stick his head out.
“You guys can come in, you know.” He left the new oak front door open.
“We’re fine out here. Go finish your inspection,” David told him, waving him away.
Colin reclaimed Joshua’s hand and led him up the stairs and into their bedroom.
“My god, Josh,” he whispered, gazing around.
“I can’t get over how much bigger it is.
” He spun to face him. “OK. We’re getting the chest of drawers that matches our bed.
We didn’t have the room before… but we do now.
” He circled the bed, fingers brushing the carved woodwork as he searched for any trace of damage.
Finding none, his hand lingered a moment longer before he turned to Joshua with a broad smile. “It looks great!”
“Well, if you look real hard—and I mean REAL hard—there are spots where you can still see a bit of black.” He gestured toward their bed. “With that much intricate carving, they were never going to get it all.”
“Hell,” Colin muttered in surprise, peering at the headboard. “You can’t tell anything ever happened.”
“That’s what I’m saying. You’d need a magnifying glass to see it.”
“The comforter?”
Joshua shook his head. “We couldn’t save it, honey. It was too coated with soot and debris.” He took Colin’s arm. “We’ll buy a new one.”
“Fine by me,” Colin said, leaning close to kiss him. “I love spending money! Especially when it’s a gift from the city of Charlottesville.”
“Hardly a gift!” Joshua scoffed. “We earned every dime of it.”
Colin glanced down. “New rugs?”
“Couldn’t get the glass out of the old ones. Or the smell of smoke.”
Colin grunted out an unhappy noise. “I remember when we bought those rugs.” He sighed and knelt, running his fingers over a new one. “I like these, though. I love the colors.” His eyes met Joshua’s. “You picked them?”
“I did.”
“Great taste.”
They moved to the study, and Colin ran his hands over the cherrywood desk, Joshua’s gift when he graduated from law school. “This looks great!”
“The door was shut, so the damage was minimal. Most of your law books were in your CAO office, but the ones that were still here are in decent shape.”
They wandered back down the stairs, and Colin strode to the kitchen. “Does the fridge work?” he called over his shoulder.
“Open it and see!”
Colin yanked the door open and laughed out loud. The fridge was nearly empty—except for three full shelves of Murphy’s Irish Stout. He grabbed four cans and headed back to Joshua. “Let’s sit on the porch.”
They joined their friends on the new and much bigger front porch, and Colin passed out the cans of stout, lifting his toward Joshua in a salute.
“You did amazing work while I was dragging my sorry ass around Ireland, my love. Thank you.” He sipped his stout, then bent and kissed the top of Joshua’s head. “And I apologize.”
“For what?” Nate asked. “Don’t start that again, Campbell! You did nothing wrong.”
Colin smiled and ruffled Nate’s hair. “Point taken.” Then his gaze shifted, and he frowned, his eyes seeking Joshua’s. “But I left you to deal with a lot all by yourself.”
“You did what I wanted you to do,” Joshua told him. “What I asked you to do! I bought your ticket, remember?”
“And,” David added, his voice low. “You were dealing with a lot all by yourself, too.”
Colin sipped his stout and gazed out across their lawn to the river beyond. “Jesus, I don’t—in my entire life—ever remember being that… that…”
“Broken?” Joshua offered.
Colin nodded. “More than broken,” he murmured, eyes on the floor. “Lost.”
“So!” David said, breaking the mood. “What’s on your agenda for the rest of the day?”
“I think we’re going to go to Classic Furniture and get, or at least order, the chest of drawers that matches our bed.” He turned and grinned at Joshua. “Since our bedroom is now big enough to hold it.” He sipped again. “And while we’re there, we might even look at couches and chairs.”
“And sheer curtains?”
“Absolutely!” Colin said. “And dining room furniture.”
“You’ll spend a fortune at that place,” David muttered. “I know. I’ve bought from them.”
“I don’t care,” Colin told him. “We’re building something beautiful here. We have the money, and we’re going to spend it.” He lifted his stout to his lips and sipped. “Life’s too goddamn short.”
“Gotta feel good to think about sleeping in your own bed tonight,” Nate said, reaching to poke Colin’s ribs with a finger.
“Well, yeah,” Colin drawled out, then leaned closer to Nate. “Eventually.”
Nate snorted out a laugh. “Oh boy, Josh, you’re in for a looooong night.”
“I’ll let you know if I hear him complain,” Colin replied with a snicker.
“Believe me, he won’t complain,” Joshua murmured, stroking Colin’s hair.
Then he turned toward Nate. “Hey, Nate, I meant to ask you and forgot. How’s the play coming along?
” He turned to Colin. “Remember The Campfire Wish, the play that Nate wrote with his writing class at Camp Pride? He’s working with those kids again. ”
Nate grinned. “My writing group and my sophomore class are combining all the play ideas to create one beautiful LGBTQ+ production.”
Colin reached to pat his arm. “Jesus, Nate, that’s great!”
“It was actually David’s idea. I told him at Camp Pride that it broke my heart to have to choose just one play from so many great concepts.” He reached to touch his husband’s arm. “He reminded me that I was a playwright and had the whole apparatus of UVA at my fingertips.”
Colin tilted his head. “You’re using all of them?”
“We are,” Nate said. “It’ll be a collage of all their ideas. A kind of patchwork play—funny, messy, meaningful, brilliant. Each scene showcases one of the writing group’s concepts. Some hopeful, some scared, some bold. It’s shaping up to become something truly beautiful.”
Joshua smiled. “That’s wonderful, Nate. You’re giving all those kids a voice.”
Nate shrugged, but his eyes were bright. “They earned it. I told my students they were co-writing it with the campers. And I meant it.”
“And on that note, dear friends,” David said, rising. “We shall head home.” He embraced Colin with a sigh. “Goddamn it, boy! I’m going to miss the hell out of you two!”
Colin nodded, his eyes welling. “It wasn’t like visiting, Davy. It was like being… home. We—we just,” he shook his head, tears falling onto his cheeks. “There’s just no way to thank you.”
“Then don’t. It’s not necessary. You’d do the same for us in a heartbeat.”
Nate embraced Colin, struggling to hold back his tears. “See you this weekend?”
“Absolutely.”
“Come for dinner on Sunday,” Joshua said. “The downstairs should be nearly done. And we should have a dining room table and chairs by then.”
“Come whether we do or not,” Colin said, one arm around Nate’s shoulders. “We’ll find a place to sit.”
“We’ll be here,” David said, taking Nate’s hand.
Colin and Joshua stood on the porch, watching as their friends drove away, then turned and embraced.
“Damn!” Colin breathed out.
“I know,” Joshua said, wiping his face with the back of his hand.
Colin peered down at him. “Alone at last,” he murmured with a slow smile.
Joshua turned as the noise of a truck echoed down the road. “Uh, not quite yet,” he said, pointing.
Colin turned to see Graham Kingsley’s truck pulling into the driveway, followed by a van carrying his team of workers. Colin lowered his head, laughing. “Well, there’s that idea shot.”
Joshua hugged him tight. “Tonight, my love. Tonight.”