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Tell Me It's Real(135)

By:TJ Klune


“What?” I asked.

“It’s like they’re mine too,” he said in awe.

I snorted. “Like nothing. They are yours too. You better hope this is what you wanted because there’s no way in hell you’re escaping them now. They’ve got their hooks in you, and even if you tried to get away, they’ll find you wherever you go.”

He eyed me. “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Is that what you want too?”

I shrugged, trying to play it off. “I found you first, didn’t I?” I mumbled at him.

That got me a sweet kiss that turned slightly dirty. I was okay with that.

So we went, then, to support one who was becoming our own: my parents, my grandmother, my best friend Sandy, and Vince’s brother Darren. Vince didn’t want to sit next to his father because he didn’t think he was wanted there. He’d told me the night before, as we lay in bed, that all he’d ever wanted was to be wanted. And since he had that, he wasn’t going to waste any more time trying to pretend that everything between him and Andrew Taylor was going to be okay. I thought about pushing the issue, telling him that he couldn’t just write off his dad like that, because no matter what, Andrew would always be his father. But I caught the look in his eye, almost a defiant thing, like that was what he expected me to say to him, like he knew what I was thinking. Vince was grieving, yes, and it hurt him greatly, but he was also showing me that he was stronger than I’d first thought. He was greater than what I’d seen.

But it was still a sight to see, especially when I realized that he was mine. He’d been right, of course, when he said we’d gotten the hard part out of the way and that the rest would be easy. I didn’t tell him (though I thought it quite often) that falling in love with him had been the easiest thing I’d ever done. I think he knew that, anyway.

So the guy in the front preached about God and Heaven and about how those we love are never really gone, just as long as we can remember them in our hearts. Many people came forward and said nice things about Lori Taylor. Songs were sung and prayers were said. We stood when we were told rise, and we sat when we were told to be seated. The whole thing was very surreal, the church large and airy, the voices echoing throughout the building. Vince looked handsome in his charcoal gray suit. I looked like a sweating beaver in my black suit. I sat next to him the whole time, his hand in mine, ignoring the glares we received from his father from across the way. It wasn’t about that. It wasn’t about him (and, to be fair, Nana glared right back enough for all of us; there was a moment when the Tucson Boys Chorus was singing the gorgeous hymn “Abide With Me” that I was pretty sure my dad had to keep my grandmother from launching herself at the mayor after a particularly nasty look he shot Vince. You could tell Dad had a split second when he seriously considered letting his mother-in-law launch herself at one of the highest ranking people in the room. I almost motioned to let her at him, but then I realized I still didn’t know if mayors had Secret Service protection and was thankful when he pulled her back. I reminded myself to ask Vince later to see if he knew).

Afterward, Vince was supposed to go stand in line with the rest of his family so that well-wishers could offer their condolences. Vince looked like he would rather get punched in the face with a fork, but I figured his mom would have wanted it. So I told him I would stand with him, if he needed me to, as the others in the line had their immediately family standing behind them. The look he gave me then was wide-eyed, but then when the rest of my family and Darren said they’d do the same, you could see his surprise like it was a palpable thing. He couldn’t seem to find his words, but I thought I knew what he was trying to say.

We moved to follow him to where the family gathered before leaving for the cemetery. With his shoulders squared and his head high, he took three steps toward them. We moved to follow until he stopped suddenly. He looked back at me and held out his hand. I took it without hesitation. If he was sure about it, then I would be sure for him.

His father was not pleased.

I know what you’re probably thinking: here comes the big scene, the disruption at the funeral, the father’s blatant homophobic remarks cutting deeply. I’d stand next to Vince and defend him and all would hear the weight of my words and silence would fall as the mayor and I glared at each other, daring the other to speak again.

But it didn’t happen. Well, kind of. I was still pretty much a badass.

Vince stood next to his father, only a few feet separating them. Both of them were stiff but aware of the other. Vince kept glancing back at me until I understood he needed to feel my presence, so every so often, I’d reach up and squeeze his shoulder, just to let him know I was still there. He relaxed further every time, focusing on shaking hands and receiving hugs from people I’d never seen before.