Chapter Thirty-Four
Brent
A couple months later, and a week before the new school year was to begin, I stared at the kiss cam photo of Renny and me at the Valkyries Pride Night game that sat on my living room mantel—and next to my bed, in my campus office, on my car dashboard, and in my kitchen.
I loved the photo so much, I’d made dozens of duplicates.
Renny in his yellow “Black Romance Writer” sweatshirt with the subtle rainbow above the lettering.
Me, in my college letterman jacket that I wore with pride, mainly because it still fit, and my freshly shaved bald head and shaped-up beard.
Us, in an embrace, with me standing behind Renny, our hands entwined, with our excellent mid-court, courtside seats gifted to us by Taylor and Dustin at their Juneteenth Pride party.
Dressed in a dark purple thin summer sweater and tan linen pants, I was preparing to walk down the block to Renny’s place.
He’d finally unpacked, furnished his place, and had a little money in his pocket to feel comfortable to have me over more regularly, so he was making my birthday dinner.
He was grilling a couple of T-bones with some kebabs of bell peppers, asparagus, mushrooms, onions, and baby corn on the cob, and making a few cupcakes for dessert.
Perfect for a dinner for two.
I picked one of the random sampler bottles from the Henry Rose set Renny and I bought recently, spritzed my neck and chest, and set the house alarm before heading on the one-block walk to Renny’s place.
“Damn, you look good,” Renny said as he opened the door with hungry eyes and a warm kiss on the mouth. “You smell and taste good, too.”
“Thank you, my guy,” I said, smiling back at him. “You smell like you’ve been grilling, and I could eat you up like them steaks we’re about to grub on.”
“Come on in.” He grabbed my hand and shut the door behind us. He then wrapped his arms around my neck. “Would you like to sit in the chair before dinner?”
“You and that mouth, Renny. Gonna get me bricked up already.”
“You want?”
“Fuck yeah, you scandalous man.”
Renny casually slid his hand across the front of my linen pants, and like that, my dick tent-poled, thinking about the promise of the gift he said I’d get during my birthday weekend.
With all of our medical tests, prescriptions, and bills of health established, plus a few couple therapy sessions together, we started dating.
Renny promised a birthday weekend where he’d put it on me in every way he and I wanted.
Chair. Ass. You name it. Even some tricks we observed and learned from the recent Dore Alley Street Fair in San Francisco.
He was finally ready. We were finally ready.
“Let me put this blindfold on you and sit you in the chair.”
“Fuck, are you serious? Like this, already? So soon?”
“It’s all yours, Brent,” Renny said as he slid a blindfold over my bald head. Gently, he led me to one of the high-back chairs in his newly furnished living room. “All for you.”
I sat in anticipation, opening and closing my legs, waiting for Renny to be kneeling before me, his hands massaging my thighs and undoing my pants while I sat in the chair.
Silence.
I wondered if Renny was undressing or putting on one of the harnesses or contraptions we’d picked up at Dore Alley. Or if he was warming up lube or massage oil or anything else to add to the excitement.
“Stay still,” Renny said, placing a cloth on my lap, then a package that was too small to be a human and definitely was not his face in my lap either.
“All right, my guy.”
“I’m about to remove the blindfold, Brent, but don’t open your eyes yet.”
“I’m playing your game, babe.”
Renny removed the blindfold. “Open your eyes.”
I opened them and heard “Surprise! Happy Birthday!”
I looked around Renny’s living room.
On one side of the room were Dustin, Taylor, Taylor’s brother Markell, and their drag performer friends, Manessa DelRey and Coco Hydrate.
On the other side of the room were Macy, Bracee, L.B.
, and Jalon, surprisingly. And my favorite foster mothers, Jewel and Wanda, from St. Louis.
We were establishing an interesting, weird, liberal, and loving California blended family.
On my lap was a box. I opened it to find a cake in the shape and color of a basketball. It was cool, to use a dad phrase. And unexpected.
Renny kissed me and moved the cake box from my lap and to a neighboring table in the living room.
As my surprise birthday party, guests mingled, Renny called for their attention.
“We need some music on,” he said. “Can anyone here guess one of the first songs that bonded me and Brent back in college?”
Random shouts came from the crowd as they tried to guess. Destiny’s Child. Alicia Keys. Juvenile. Mary J. Blige. Mariah Carey. OutKast. Chingy. Twista. Christina Milian. Black Eyed Peas.
“You’re all wrong,” I shouted out. “Wanna put it on, my guy?”
Renny pushed a few buttons on his phone until we heard the background singers in the song shout out the word “Contact!” from Whitney Houston’s song “Love Is a Contact Sport,” as everyone joined in a spontaneous dance in any empty space they could find in the living room.
Once the dancing subsided, the dinner festivities moved to the backyard dining table, where Renny had lit a few patio heaters to keep us warm before the evening fog rolled in. I clinked a spoon to my water glass.
“I just wanna say how happy I am to have all of you gathered here for my birthday,” I said.
“I’ve come a long way, as many of you know, to be here and open about who I am.
Thank you, all. Super big thanks to Renny, my guy.
Super big thanks to Macy, who’s been the most supportive friend and ex-wife a man in my position could ask for. ”
Everyone clinked glasses, cheered, and drank to that. I opened up the floor to announcements, thanks, or birthday speeches.
“I have an announcement,” Taylor said with a smile.
“With my parents getting older in Southern California, I’ve decided…
Dustin and I have decided to move to the L.A.
area to be closer to them. It’s not public yet, but I’ll soon be announced as the new chancellor of the C.U.
system. I’ll be supervising all the C.U.
campus presidents. Thanks to Renny’s brilliant work, we’ve seen our application numbers start to uptick. ”
“Cheers.”
“Not my favorite supervisor leaving for SoCal,” I said.
“I guess on that note I can share something else, then. Apparently, my approach to college athletics, plus having no team scandals, have caught the eyes of Golden State’s management.
I might have something in the works pretty soon with the Valkyries and the Warriors. ”
“Oh em gee, amazing.”
“Well, Jewel and I have decided we want to move to the Bay Area. We are tired of those St. Louis winters.”
“Wanda and I are going to make that happen. And we’ll be happy to join our favorite foster son at some WNBA games.”
“Cheers.”
“I’m taking a fall internship with the legal team at the Equal Justice Initiative in Montgomery, Alabama,” Bracee said. “Their focus on ending mass incarceration and excessive punishment aligns with where I want my legal career to go.”
“Cheers.”
“Well, I guess I can share I’m kinda fluid, and kinda questioning, and I’m kinda seeing this Nigerian guy on my soccer team at Michigan State,” L.B. said. “I’ll bring him out here during Thanksgiving or Christmas break. We’ll see how it goes.”
“Whoa,” everyone said in unison, “cheers.”
“We’ll talk about that, son,” I said, raising my water glass. “In case you want some ‘dating as a college athlete’ advice.”
“Hashtag no-boomer-advice, Dad. I got this. But, cheers.”
Renny chimed in, “My agent, Rashid, called. I think I have a new book deal. Thank you, L.B. Your TikToks about me and your dad’s second chance reunion and about my books. I’ve got, what do they call it—rizz with young BookTok influencers and college students, apparently.”
“Cheers.”
“Anyone else?” I asked.
“I’m starting a support group for Black women whose partners are navigating their sexuality or gender identity,” Macy said.
“As hurtful, or even threatening, as it can be personally, to be in my—our—shoes, I know we can part of the systemic change that helps people be free and not have to hide who they are. I love you, Brent…and Renny, you’re all right, too. ”
After offering the floor for more sharing, everyone shrugged, shook their heads, put their hands up to indicate nothing to add. Our words were the only things standing between us and dinner.
“I’ve got one last one, sorry, y’all,” I said, turning to Renny. “I don’t wanna lose another moment without this one in my life. Renny, let’s talk, once this evening’s festivities wind down, about making us official. Finally. However we decide to define official.”
“I agree one hundred percent,” he said as he put an arm around my waist, moved in tight, and grabbed my free hand. “I’m ready when you are.”