Begin Again

Epilogue

Pittsburgh, End of the Liberty Ride Weekend

Brian stood at the edge of the dance floor, scanning the crowd, looking for a specific unruly head of brown hair. Debbie came up to stand beside him.

“Trying to find someone special?” she asked coyly. Brian smiled slightly.

“As a matter of fact, yes. Yes, I am.”

“I knew it!” she crowed triumphantly. “I just knew that getting you two boys back together was only a matter of time, and once you saw each other again, that old magic would start up, and it would all begin again.”

“Well, Debbie, you were partially right,” Brian told her, bending to kiss her brightly rouged cheek. “After seeing Justin so much over this long weekend, I’m definitely ready to begin again, to make a fresh start with my love life.”

“Brian,” she leaned against him, seemingly too choked up to speak. He toyed with the idea of allowing her to continue in her misconception. “I don’t know what to say,” she finally managed to get out, her eyes welling over. He made a mental note to keep her away from his tuxedo front, now that she was likely to smear makeup all over him. He patted her on the back.

“Why don’t you stay with that feeling for a while, Debbie...enjoy the novelty,” he suggested, a gleam in his eye. He’d found his prey and was intent on getting to him before they could be separated again. “I’ll catch up with you later for a dance, Mom. Right now I have another one to claim.”

Completely misunderstanding the situation, Debbie merely nodded, her heart too full to let her say anything. For once. Brian moved away while he had the chance, figuring that Debbie would realize the truth soon enough. She might be disappointed, he reasoned, but he knew that she loved him enough that she would forgive him – once she saw how happy he was. And he intended to show her how very happy he was, so that there would be no mistaking his intentions any longer.

As Brian walked away, Hunter came up to take his place. “Hey Grandma...you care to trip the light fantastic with your disreputable grandson?”

Debbie quickly shifted from starry-eyed romantic to sharp-tongued grandmother. “And what grandson would that be? The only one I have is an upstanding young man who anyone would be proud to call grandson!”

“Whom,” corrected the upstanding young man with a twinkle in his eye as he led his grandmother out onto the dance floor.

“Who what?” Debbie asked, confused. Hunter’s grin widened but he let it drop. Instead he asked, “So, did Brian tell you what he did with his and blondie’s rings for the wedding that wasn’t?”

“No...does he have them still?” Debbie’s eyes threatened to spill over again as she thought of Brian still having his and Sunshine’s wedding rings. How perfect, she thought, conveniently forgetting about the two other men very much a part of their current lives – what Debbie didn’t want to see, she simply didn’t see.

“Well, yes and no,” Hunter said, cryptically. He wondered if he wanted to be the one to break the news to his delusional grandmother that Brian and Sunshine were not getting back together. Nah, he decided. Better to let her figure it out on her own. Hopefully when he had a front row seat. All he said to Debbie, when she demanded to know what he meant, was that she would likely find out all that she’d want to know by the end of the evening.

Meanwhile, Brian had reached the man he’d been looking for, who was standing by the side entrance, leaning against the wall, a journal in his hand that he was intently reading. Brian reached over his shoulder and plucked the reading material from his partner’s startled grasp.

“Hey!” Mac complained, but softly, so as not to attract attention. “I was just....”

“Reading something far more interesting than dancing with me would be?” Brian sucked in his bottom lip and looked completely irresistible, Mac thought, trying to remember what it was he had been about to say. Instead, he smiled back at Brian.

“Reading until something more interesting came along,” he corrected., admiring how perfectly Brian’s Armani tuxedo fit his slim form. His own formalwear fit just as well, for the simple reason that Brian had dragged him to his own tailor and forced him to undergo the rare process of actually having clothes altered to fit him. Mac’s usual way was to buy things a size or two too big, to ensure that they’d be very comfortable and have room for whatever items he chose to store in the pockets. He was willing to concede, however, that he really shouldn’t store rocks and other lakeside finds in the pockets of his good clothes. Ones that had names. Having grown up with scientist parents, living with Brian was Mac’s first exposure to being told he had to keep his good clothes for “good” and work only in clothes designated for that purpose. For his part, Brian was amazed that Mac had never been yelled at for getting a rip in Sunday’s good go to church pants, nor been told to get dressed up for a dinner with family. Mac was happy enough to wear what Brian told him to, when clothes mattered, but the rest of the time, he dressed for comfort.

“You look fantastic tonight,” Brian told him, wrapping his arms around him. Mac chuckled ruefully.

“You should like the look; you didn’t even let me choose my underwear! But, I’m glad the finished product meets with your approval. It makes being dressed up like a doll all worthwhile.” He leaned against Brian’s chest for a second, pressing his cheek to the taller man’s shoulder.

“Do I have to dance too, or can we just stay like this?” he asked, his voice muffled slightly against the cloth of Brian’s tuxedo coat. Brian laughed lightly and tipped Mac’s chin up.

“I’d like to share this dance with you...if you wouldn’t hate it too much,” he told him, smiling warmly. Looking at that smile, Mac thought that he could climb a mountain just to win that smile – and, if forced, even attempt a slow dance or two.

“I’m not good at this, you know,” he felt compelled to warn as Brian led him out to the dance floor.

“You’re exactly as good as I need,” Brian assured him while he led him easily in the steps of the dance, the band playing an old Cole Porter song that made it impossible not to be able to dance, Mac thought. Even for him.

Meanwhile, across the room, another couple was taking to the dance floor. Justin and Kyle moved well together, dancing smoothly in rhythm to the music as though one body. Bit by bit, couples fell away to watch them, they were so good. Eventually, the only other dancers on the floor were Brian and Mac...who were completely oblivious to the wonderful dancing taking place nearby as they slowly swayed together.

Kyle glanced over at the other two men and smiled as he pulled Justin closer. “Well, how was your weekend, baby? Did you get out of it what you were hoping for?”

Justin looked over at the other two men also and watched them for several seconds before turning his attention back to the handsome man holding him. He had the vaguest sense of déjà vu, as he danced with Kyle, both of them debonair in their tuxedos, the admiring crowd around the edges of the dance floor watching as he was spun around by a man he loved – a man he believed to be the handsomest man in the room.

“Yes...yes, I think I did. Seeing Brian again was a good thing. It helped me lay to rest that little part of me that always thought, maybe, just maybe, we would end up together after all, you know?”

Kyle looked over Justin’s shoulder, his face a perfect mask for a second, and Justin wondered if maybe he’d been too honest. But then Kyle’s incredibly blue eyes met his and he was smiling.

“Actually, Justin, I do know. And that’s why I wanted to come with you for this trip.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well,” Kyle said slowly. “Either you would have been bowled over by your feelings for each other, even after all this time, in which case, I’d rather find out right away than have you send me an email or call me on the phone to tell me that we were through.” Kyle tightened his arms around Justin as he thought about those few moments when he’d heard about Justin and Brian kissing on the course, and his feelings when he thought that his worst fear had come true. “But then I also thought...if you found out that your great love wasn’t there any longer, at least not the way you remembered it...you might need me there. To help with any allergy attacks, you know.” Kyle’s smile was sheepish this time, but Justin thought that just maybe he loved him even more this way, when his perfect lover was feeling slightly less than perfect.

“I love you, you know,” Justin told him.

“Well, I kind of know that, or at least, really, really hoped you did, but I wasn’t sure you would reach that conclusion. He’s a pretty powerful memory for you, and that part of your past has always been off-limits,” Kyle confessed, still in this new, vulnerable mood.

Justin squeezed him close, even though it didn’t fit the dance step they were doing. “A memory is a beautiful thing, to cherish...but I live in the present, and you’re my present and my future, Kyle Shapiro.”

The two of them kissed then, earning a round of applause from the crowd of mainly gay men, who found the moment impossibly romantic, and loved every bit of it.

Except for Debbie. She was looking around for Brian.

“What is he up to now?” she demanded of Hunter, who was leading her over to Carl, in the hope that he’d be able to calm her once she realized her hopes of a romantic reunion of her favorite couple just wasn’t in the cards. “If he doesn’t get over there right away with those rings, that handsome doctor is going to beat his time!”

“I think Brian is doing okay right where he is, hon, and he’s got something different on his mind,” Carl told her, before pulling her close in an embrace of their own. He nodded to Hunter – he’d handle her from here, the nod said.

Carl had called it exactly right. Brian was doing fine where he was – out on the terrace of the ballroom where the dance was being held. He stood next to Mac, looking out over a lake that abutted the restaurant they’d chosen for their dinner dance. He linked his fingers loosely with Mac’s as they stood looking out over the water.

“I gave Ben those old rings today,” Brian began.

Mac smiled. “He told me. I think your idea is a wonderful one – a lot of the men who end up in the Vic Grassi house don’t have much in the way of material goods, but they still have a lot of love in their hearts. There have been several couples who had ceremonies this year alone. I know that your rings will be very welcome by whomever Ben decides to offer them to.”

“The real question,” Brian said, turning Mac so that they faced each other, “is whether you’re satisfied that those rings, and all that they symbolized in my life, are now put to rest. Are you?”

“It isn’t me who has to be satisfied,” Mac began, but seeing the look on Brian’s face, he chuckled and gave in. “Well, if you insist – yes, I’m more than satisfied. By your disposal of the rings...and by all that it symbolizes. In fact...I feel like this is a new beginning for us in a way. I’m no longer the ‘other man.’ What do you think; can we begin all over again?”

Mac reached up and stroked Brian’s face tenderly as he posed his question. But he was taken aback by Brian’s shaking his head firmly and reaching up to move his hand, even though he kept hold of it.

“Actually, I had something quite different in mind,” Brian told his wide-eyed lover, enjoying the look of shock on his face, but hurrying to remove any feelings of doubt that might accompany it. “I don’t want to start over, Mac. I want us to move forward, to something new. I love you, and you’re the only man I want in my life and in my bed.”

“What are you saying, Brian?” Mac’s voice was hoarse. Brian wrapped his arms around him, pulling him tight against his chest, his chin resting on Mac’s shoulder, his lips close to his ear as he whispered, “I’m saying that I want us to be together, Mac, till death do us part, sickness and health, baggy jeans or Armani suits – I want you, and if you don’t mind the ridiculously romantic sentimentality of the phrase – I want you as my husband, for the rest of my life.”

Mac pulled away to look into Brian’s eyes and he saw only certainty there, not a trace of doubt. He smiled back at him. “If you’ll excuse the ridiculous sentimentality on my part, the answer is, yes, yes, a thousand times yes!”

They kissed then, bodies molded together, lost to the world around them. A long mournful call from out over the lake finally made Brian lift his head.

“That reminds me...I have something for you,” he told Mac. He pulled a slim case from his jacket pocket. Mac looked at it suspiciously.

“That’s not....” Mac bit his lip and cut off the question. “No, of course it isn’t.”

“I’m glad you give me credit for some sense,” Brian told him, thinking ruefully of how close he’d come to almost ruining his life with this man he loved more than life itself. “But, as a matter of fact, these were ordered before the Ride...I had them with me but the right time just never seemed to occur. Until last night on the mountain, actually, and then they were back in my bag on the bus. Open it,” he suggested, his expression not as casual as his words. Mac glanced at him quickly, then with a slightly shaking hand, opened the case. Nestled inside the velvet lining were two platinum rings, but these were very different from the ones Brian had given away that day. These each had a square cut emerald, etched inside of which was a bird in flight.

“They’re beautiful,” Mac whispered, touched by Brian’s inclusion of something that made these rings suitable only for him. And also touched by a man who so clearly loved him.

“Gus helped me pick out the right kind of bird – it’s a falcon,” Brian said, nervous now that the big moment was upon him. This was when everything had gone wrong before. But, looking down into those familiar green eyes, alight with warmth and love, he suddenly knew that this was probably the “rightest” thing he’d ever done.

“They’re perfect,” Mac assured him. Then he grinned. “Are you going to go down on one knee or can you just put it on me now and get back to kissing me?”

Brian’s laughter as he did exactly that was loud enough to drift in through the double doors that led to the ballroom. Debbie heard it, where she stood with Carl, nursing a drink that she’d demanded after Ben had broken to her what Brian had done with his and Justin’s rings.

“He does sound happy, doesn’t he?” She sighed and then her eyes sought out her other boy, who was dancing quietly now, his bright blond head resting on the sturdy shoulder of his doctor.

“And the other one is happy too,” Carl told her, gently taking away her glass. He looked at her solemnly, his plain old face reflecting all the love he felt for his loud, brash lover. “May I have this dance, Mrs. Novotny?”

As she let herself be twirled away in the steps of the dance, Debbie thought that maybe it was time she let go of the past as well. Mrs. Horvath...it would take some getting used to, but then, sometimes it was good to begin again. Seeing the two men through the double doors, once more lost in their own world as they kissed, Debbie nodded to herself. Yes, it was past time to begin again.

“Carl,” she said, “I’ve been thinking....”

END

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