September 29, 2008

In Deeds, Not Years
By Chris Owen

They were never really good at remembering dates, and for years they didn't even have one to actually keep in mind. It wasn't like either of them could point to a specific day and say, "There. That's the day we got together. That's our anniversary."

Luke was the kind of guy who forgot his mother's birthday, usually remembered Jay's the day before (and twice, the day after), and only had the vaguest idea of when his sister's birthday was. When asked about other family dates, such as birthdays or his parent's wedding anniversary, he'd blink slowly and turn to look at Jay.

Jay, on the other hand, could remember that kind of thing, within reason. That didn't mean, of course, that he remembered to buy or mail the appropriate cards -- he wasn't that good -- but he did know what month Luke's parents had married in, and even the year. Jay knew his own parents' anniversaries, and he didn't forget Luke's birthday. Of course, it helped that Luke's birthday was on Canada Day; nothing like a national party to drive the point home.

But when it came to their relationship, they were both lost. For a long time it didn't matter; they knew roughly how long they'd been together, in that they could name the number of months and then years. For a long time, that was good enough -- it had to be. That's what they had.

After a few years together they'd jumped on a bandwagon with a bunch of their friends. It was a summer of mostly saccharin commitment ceremonies, and theirs had been no different. The flowers, the promises, the wine that flowed like water. They hadn't invited their families, just the same group of friends that were parading from one service to the next.

Luke admitted to Jay, in the dark of the night a few months later, that he'd thought the whole deal kind of lame. After a long pause, the silence heavy and thick while Luke held his breath, Jay whispered, "Dearly beloved, we're gathered here to drink and fuck around..." They both laughed, relieved, and when the date of their ceremony rolled around the next year they both ignored it.

And so it went. The guys who'd spent that summer getting almost married along with them either stayed together or didn't. A couple moved, some started families, and a bunch drifted away, a few stayed close friends. It was life and it marched right along.

Job changes. Family issues. Making love in a new home. Planting gardens, finding out they hated to grow plants. Ripping out the garden and putting in a pool. Making love in the pool, and then on the deck.

Entertaining family, having all their nieces for a whole weekend. Almost breaking up the next Monday when the girls left and they sat staring at each other with wild eyes, blaming each other for the horror that six preteens and young teens can bring in a forty-eight hour period.

It was life and it was full and rich and there were ups and downs. Luke forgot Jay's birthday again. Jay got fired. Luke held him and told him they'd be okay, even though he knew that there was no promise of that, not really.

Luke's dad died and Jay protected him for days, a wall against the sobs that wracked Luke's body with a pain he'd never, ever expected.

Jay's brother got divorced and moved in with them for a month. Luke discovered that sneaking around and having sex in unexpected places while they had a guest was the most exciting thing they'd done in years.

Getting caught was even better. Jay came so hard he almost passed out, his brother yelling something about his eyeballs burning out of their sockets a background hum under their cries of release.

The next few months were revitalizing, happy. They felt a new connection, like they'd been reminded that not only did they love each other, but that they were in love.

When the laws started to change, sweeping the country province by province, they didn't say anything to each other about it, not in terms of how it would affect them. They talked about the whole thing, of course, and what it would mean for the country, for their community -- but not for them.

Friends went to Ontario and got married. Then a couple of years later another rash of weddings happened, at home. There were no barriers, then, and it was almost another bandwagon -- a happy, ecstatic bandwagon that everyone was proud of, not just something to do to keep up.

When asked, Jay and Luke would shake their heads. "No plans to, nope. Not yet. It's not something we feel a huge need to do."

"Too old."

"Been together long enough that it's not going to make a difference."

But one day in March Jay rolled over and said, "You know, we've been together for over twenty years. We're married."

And Luke stared at him, one eyebrow raised. "Yeah. So?"

"So I just realized that I know when I fell in love with you. I can remember the first time I said it. I can remember our first kiss, I can remember the look on your face when I whispered it to you, half scared out of my mind. I know exactly when we knew."

Luke nodded slowly, not even having to try to think back. "We were waiting for a cab outside Tom and Ruth's. It was almost raining, but not quite, and we were going to be late for dinner with your thesis advisor. A week before you defended in front of the committee. A Friday night."

"April twenty-second."

Luke smiled. "Just so. Next month, twenty-three years."

"I want to celebrate our anniversary this year."

After a long moment Luke nodded. "You look just as scared this time as you did then. Your eyes are huge and serious, and you only get that look when you mean it." He leaned forward and kissed Jay's mouth. "Anything for you. Always."

"I've never counted the years by cards and flowers. You know that. But I've counted the tissues you wipe my eyes with, the way you've been what I needed. Every single time."

Luke swallowed hard and nodded. Jay's eyes were massive, swimming with something important and undeniable. "I've counted the laughing fits, the vacations you took because I wanted to, the number of times you haven't killed my sister. The times you took care of me and the times you made stand on my own two feet."

Jay nestled into him. "We measure the time in deeds, not years, and that's always been right for us. But now... I want to take a step with you. Beside you."

"I'll always be beside you." Luke kissed him again and held him close enough to feel the thudding of his heart. "But next year, we won't mark our first anniversary. Okay? We've put in too much time together to go back to number one."

Jay laughed softly. "We'll call it twenty-four, I promise. Do you think we can plan a wedding in a month?"

Grinning, Luke nodded. "We're going to find out."

***

Today's clue:Sneaky Chris!