Ilan wouldn’t appreciate Fredric making a big fuss about the day, but maybe he could cook, and maybe he’d give him just a little token. Doubt nipped at his heels as Bas nosed his hand toward the door handle, and he gave him a lingering scratch behind his right ear before moving all the way inside.
There was soft music on the speakers—classical instead of holiday which he appreciated—and off in the corner the fountain water trickling over stones. The air was heavier, the heater on full blast, which smelled a little sharp, and just below that, a spice candle burning.
“I didn’t think I was going to see you until after the holiday,” Brian said. His voice was raspy and aged, and Fredric liked to picture him like the black and white TV presenters his parents had loved when he was growing up.
“I wanted to find something for my partner,” he said, then had Bas take him to the counter. “We’re not really doing holidays this year—and he’s never done gifts for Chanukah. But it’s been…kind of a strange year.”
“I think it has for a lot of us,” Brian said on the heels of a sigh. “What sort of gift are you looking for?”
Fredric’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know…something for his office, maybe? He’s opening up a new practice, and it’ll be just his for the first time in his life.”
“Law?”
“Doctor,” Fredric said, letting pride color his tone.
Brian let out a very quiet hum, and Fredric heard his fingers drumming on the glass case. “Something for his wall, maybe? Or…does he have bookshelves?”
“He has nothing right now,” Fredric answered with a small laugh. “They had to do some renovations, so I think it’s mostly drywall and rubble. But I imagine he’ll have something like that.”
“We have some local art,” Brian said, and Fredric heard his shuffling steps as he came around the corner. “Paintings, sculptures. Some of them are pretty small and they’d look nice on a desk or shelf.”
Fredric followed him across the room, taking Bas’ lead when he slowed and then stopped. “He’s never really talked about art with me before, and I would feel like I was betraying the gallery if I bought something here.” The corner of his mouth lifted into a smile. “Maybe something small. A candle?”
“What about this,” Brian asked and, recognizing the tone, Fredric extended his hand and accepted the heavy weight Brian handed over.
Looping Bas’ leash around his wrist, he used his free hand to trace the edges. Square, subtle, metal, glass. “Photo frame?”
“For his desk. It comes in a set. I can even print a photo if you have one and set it in the frame before you go,” Brian offered.
It was small and simple idea. Like a movie night or candlelight dinner. Fredric had asked Ilan to take a couple of selfies of them together on his phone—one at the beach, one on a kayak trip up the intracoastal. “For when we’re ready to tell people,” Fredric had said. “Because there’s no way I’d want to hide you.”
Ilan had hooked his chin over Fredric’s shoulder, then kissed him and kissed him. Somewhere in the midst of that, some photos existed. He pulled his phone out and opened the screen, then navigated to his images.
“Will any of these do?” he asked, laying it on the counter.
Brian hummed and Fredric heard the voice-over as he swiped. “Perfect. You text them to me and I’ll get them printed. I can ring you up while we’re waiting.”
Fredric took down his number, then got the images sending. He heard Brian clicking on the computer as he ran up the order, and he thought about handing this gift to Ilan. He wanted to believe it was a good idea. He wanted to know that he was making the right choice for a future that would exist. One where Ilan was proud to display the two of them together. In public.
But he wasn’t sure if Ilan would be ready to display them on his desk like that come spring.
Hell, what if he wasn’t ever ready?
His insecurity threatened to choke him, but he was trying to have faith in how much Ilan cared about him. He wanted the hope to be real, to be tangible, that Ilan would be ready soon—for all of it. That he was willing to take the risk and willing to trust that the people who cared about them would be more happy than angry—but that the anger was worth bearing for their future.
“All set,” Brian said. “The photos are printing now, and if you want, I can wrap them up when they’re done.”
“That would be great. I…” Fredric started, then stopped and shook his head. He passed over his credit card and listened to Brian swipe it. “Thanks for this.”
“Of course.” There was hesitation in his voice, then Brian cleared his throat. “Are you okay?”
Fredric laughed. “Yes? I…it’s been a rough year. I’m missing my family, and things with my partner are a little off kilter.”
“My wife’s feeling it too. Our kids are going on some vacation this year instead of our usual gathering, and it’s hard. But that’s the way of things, isn’t it? Our kids grow up, change the routine.”
Fredric smiled softly as he heard Brian start to assemble the frames. “I think next year will be better. We’ll be in Paris to visit my son, and it’ll my first trip with my partner. As a couple.” The words felt heavy though, because he didn’t know if they were the truth or a lie.
Brian let out a very soft sigh as he brushed the back of Fredric’s hand with the gift bag. “I proposed to my wife there, forty-two years ago, just after the new year. She was studying on an exchange program, and we were long distance by letter.”
Fredric felt something inside him soften and ache a little. “Sounds hard.”
“Oh, it was. I thought for sure some man with a fancy accent was going to come sweep her off her feet and make her forget all about me. I was ready to let her go too, if it meant she was happy. But we’d gone out for the night. The city was loud, people were drunk, and there was slush all over the streets. She’d slipped and fallen into a puddle, and she was a mess. I remember looking at her and thinking she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life. I didn’t have a ring, but I dropped to my knee anyway and asked her.”
Fredric swallowed thickly. “And she said yes?”
Brian laughed hard, ending on a sigh. “She said no. She told me to do better, so six months later when I picked her up from the airport—I did. We’ve hardly spent a night apart since.”
Fredric curled his hand around the bag and pulled it close to him. His heart was beating fast, his hands feeling a little weak, but Brian’s story settled under his skin. It was what he wanted—it didn’t have to be marriage. He didn’t need a contract to love Ilan for the rest of his life. But he wanted a promise that there was something there worth fighting for.
He wanted fifty more years with Ilan by his side.
He was his first, and he wanted to know that he would be his last. His only. His absolute forever.
Fredric could feel irritation coming off Ilan when he walked through the door that evening. He’d thrown together a brisket and whatever vegetables he had in the crisper that had been slow roasting all day. He knew the timer was close to going off when Ilan flopped on the couch and cooed a little at Bas, but there was still time to greet his lover.