5
They held the reception in a warehouse loft—a friend of a friend of Seth’s owned it, and the rate had been unbelievably cheap, which made Tean suspect that Seth might have paid part of the sum.
Tinajas had outdone herself with the decorations, and balloons and banners hung everywhere.
The native flower arrangements from Hannah had made their way from the wedding to the reception without any problems. Tinajas’s husband—a huge man named Tony, whose crushing handshake had been accompanied by a big smile—was DJing, and although Tean hadn’t recognized a single song, Jem seemed thrilled with the selection.
People filled the room. More people, in fact, than Tean had thought possible.
But when he’d asked Jem if maybe they were wedding crashers, Jem had laughed for almost a minute before kissing Tean on the cheek and saying, “I love you.”
It was noisy. It was crowded. It was hot. And there’d been way too much sugar in the cake.
Somehow, tonight, none of it mattered.
Jem was on the dance floor, showing Daniel and Milo how to break dance.
From what Tean could figure out, half the battle was just learning how to stand so you looked cool, but there was an impressive amount of spinning on the floor.
Daniel seemed to be picking it up, and while Milo wasn’t exactly having the same success, the little boy was clearly thrilled to be included.
Jem had offered to teach Tean, too, but Tean said no.
He was happy watching Jem. How he squared up Daniel’s shoulders.
How he repositioned Milo’s hand. How he laughed and applauded when Daniel did something right—swinging a leg around while it looked like he was doing a push-up.
How the soft lighting glowed in his hair and beard and eyelashes.
“How are you holding up?”
Hannah was carrying a glass of water, and she’d put her hair in a bun. A sheen of sweat suggested she’d just come back from the dance floor herself. Her cheeks were pink, and she looked happy.
“Great,” Tean said.
Hannah raised her eyebrows.
“Tired,” Tean said with a laugh. “But great. It’s been a wonderful day.”
“No parent drama?”
Tean glanced across the room. His father had left already, but his mother was sitting at a table with friends from church—people Tean had known since childhood and felt obliged to invite to the reception, if not to the wedding itself.
“No, surprisingly. They even managed to act like adults around each other.”
“Not too much peopling?” Hannah asked.
“Definitely too much peopling.”
“It’s your party. You can leave whenever you want.”
His gaze drifted back to Jem, who was crouched next to Daniel, trying to show him how to move his foot. Daniel said something, and Jem grinned and gave him a mock shove.
“I think we’ll stay for a while,” Tean said. “It’s a good night.” He turned to Hannah. “Thank you again. The ceremony was perfect.”
“You know, it’s not really about me,” Hannah said with a grin. “That makes it a lot easier.”
“You did a great job. And it meant a lot to me.”
She touched her cheek with the back of her hand, and suddenly lights swam in her eyes. “Of course,” she said. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“I know. And to show you how much I love you, you never have to say it out loud again.”
Tean’s grin caught him by surprise.
“Excuse me.” The voice was quavery, and it came from a man who must have been in his fifties, stout, with sideburns a little too long and a little too wide. “Hello. Ron Villalobos. And you must be the lucky groom.”
“I’m definitely the lucky one,” Tean said. “I don’t think we’ve met, have we?”
“No, no. My sister is in your parents’ ward. She invited me. I’m gay, you see. It just made sense.”
Tean wasn’t sure it made sense. But he had the sinking feeling that, whether it made sense or not, he was about to be dragged into one of his personal nightmares: making small talk with a stranger, in a room where it was too loud to hear properly, with absolutely nothing in common except forced proximity and, apparently, sexuality.
But it was his wedding. And Jem probably wouldn’t appreciate it if Tean disappeared, which was his usual MO.
Dredging up a smile, he said, “Oh. Who’s your sister?”
But before Ron could answer, Hannah brushed her cheek against Tean’s and whispered, “You can thank me later.”
And then, pushing herself toward Ron, she took his hand and said, “Do you know how many homicides occur every year?”
Ron blinked. “What?”
“Four hundred thousand,” Hannah said. “That’s globally.” She was still pumping his hand and moving into his space, and Ron retreated without seeming to realize it. “In some countries, it’s the leading cause of death.”
“Uh, right, well, I was just—”
“And do you know how many bears kill other bears?”
After that, they were too far away for Tean to hear them. But Hannah did look back, once, to flash a wicked grin at him, before she continued to press Ron toward a corner.
“Something funny?” Jem asked. He was flushed, and he’d removed his jacket. His white shirt was creased and smudged from break dancing, and he leaned in for a kiss before Tean could answer.
“Just Hannah,” Tean said. “An inside joke.”
“Looks like she saved you from that guy.”
“She did.” And maybe it was the day, and all the emotions that had gone into it, because it was hard to get the words out when he said, “She’s a good friend.”
Jem nodded. He rubbed Tean’s back. And then he said, “Want to get out of here?”
“No, I’m fine.”
Grinning, Jem said, “Let’s get out of here.”
“You’re having a good time.”
“I want to have a good time with you.”
Tean glanced around.
“With your body,” Jem added.
“Okay, well, not so loud—”
“Sex.”
“Oh my gosh.”
Laughing, Jem leaned in for another kiss. “Come on, Mr. Husband. Let’s go.”
It took a little longer than that, of course.
They said their goodbyes, but nobody seemed too worried—it was a party, after all, and they were all having a good time.
Before long, they were back in the Subaru, driving through the dark streets of Salt Lake City, headed home.
The honeymoon would be later, when they had a little more saved up.
That was actually kind of a relief; Tean thought he might need a few days in a dark, quiet room before he felt human again.
As they were turning onto their street, Jem said, “Okay, hit me with it.”
“What?”
“All of it. The stuff that could go wrong now that we’re married. Like—for example, you need a kidney transplant, but I’m not a match. Kidney disease. Kidney stones. Uh. Is there other kidney stuff?”
“Why was kidney stuff your first example?”
“It was on Maury.” He said this as though it explained everything. “Or we go totally bankrupt because I gamble away our life savings. Or you invest all our savings in a Ponzi scheme, and we have to eat cat food, but not the good kind. Or there’s a gas leak—”
Laughing, Tean said, “What is going on?”
They parked in their driveway, and as they got out of the car, Jem said, “Don’t be afraid to go dark. I know your brain’s been working overtime today, so lay it on me.”
At the front door, they stopped while Jem got out his keys. He worked one in the lock. On the other side, Scipio would be waking up, stretching, ready for pets, ready for one last play. On the other side was the rest of their life.
“Do you know what I was thinking today?” Tean asked. “During the wedding? During the reception? Besides how much I love you, of course.”
“Yeah, of course.” Jem crossed his fingers. “If it’s cannibalism, I win a bet with Seth.”
“What’s the best that could happen?”
Jem cocked his head.
“That’s what I’ve been thinking today,” Tean said. “What’s the best thing that could happen?”
Jem pushed the door open. He was smiling, the real one, the one that showed the crooked front teeth. And he held out his hand. “I guess we’ll find out.”