The theater was packed, nearly every seat taken. Port Grandlin had really turned out for this event, it seemed. Max and I took seats near the front and settled in, the scent of popcorn wafting through the air. It didn’t take long until the lights flickered, letting us know the show was about to start. Recognizing his cue, Max jumped up and hurried to the front of the theater, where one of the teenage employees handed him a microphone. I spotted Sterling striding up to take a spot next to Max.
“Hi, everyone. My name is Max Potter, and I was the lead producer onHeartland Overhaul. Here with me is Sterling King, the show’s host. We’re excited to have such a full theater to share this experience with. Thank you all so much for turning out, and we’re looking forward to answering your questions after the show.”
With that, he hurried to take his seat next to me, the lights dimmed, and the show began. Max took my hand and mouthed, “I’m nervous,” at me, but I didn’t have time to do anything to reassure him besides a gentle squeeze of his hand.
For an hour, we sat and watched, but my attention was focused more on Max and his reactions than the screen itself. He seemed to relax after a little while, leaning against me as we watched the story unfold. When the episode ended, the room erupted into cheers and applause, and Max once again made his way up to the front, where an employee had placed three chairs. Sterling was close behind, both of them looking like they were born to be in front of a crowd.
Acting as moderator, Soren took the third seat and fielded questions. The questions ranged from topics about thetechnicalities of filming and producing a reality show to Max’s and Sterling’s favorite moments on set. One person asked about the potential for the show to continue with other locations in town and quite a few people applauded at that. Max assured the crowd that he’d keep them updated as early as he was allowed.
After about forty-five minutes, Soren ended the question-and-answer session, which was a relief to me, because we had other places to be. “Thank you all so much for attending the premiere ofHeartland Overhaul. We’re so excited to have been able to host it here at the Radiance Theater. Let’s show our thanks to Max and Sterling for being willing to hold this Q-and-A session, and you all have a great rest of your day.”
The crowd applauded and filtered out of the theater slowly, a few people making their way to the front to speak individually with Sterling or Max. Once everyone hadfinallyleft, I made my way to the front of the theater and wrapped him in a bear hug.
“That was great.” I squeezed him tight before releasing him.
Max’s cheeks were a faint shade of pink. “Thanks. I’m glad you were here to share it with me. Now, we should go before we’re late.”
Relief washed through me. I hated being late and our next stop was important to me. We headed outside and walked the three blocks to the historical society’s building, the Port Grandlin Museum of History and Culture. It was small for a museum, a white stone building that stood next to the art museum, separated only by a sprawling lawn. We opened the door and stepped inside, greeted by a young woman acting as docent, with a friendly smile.
“Good afternoon. Can I help you gentlemen find anything?”
“I, um, I’m Jake Young. I’m here for the—”
Her smile widened. “Right this way, Mr. Young.”
Max and I followed her closely as she led us down the corridor and through a great, open room with a beautiful stained-glassceiling. On the other side was a gallery, and employees in white shirts and black slacks hurried around, setting up tables and chairs, putting tablecloths on, and setting up food and beverage stations.
The docent asked us to stay put and a few minutes later, she returned with Damon, the curator who had worked with us on the display of the letters. Damon, a tall, thin man with soft curls that fell across his forehead, making him look much younger than he actually was, reached out and shook my hand, a wide smile on his face.
“Jake, it’s so good to see you again. We’re almost ready. The reception starts in about twenty minutes. Are you interested in having a sneak peek, or would you prefer to enjoy the museum until the reception starts?”
I swallowed hard and weighed my words carefully. “I think I’d like to look around first. Maybe I’ll have some idea of what to say if people ask me questions.”
His smile softened and he nodded. “Please, have a look around. I’ll be here if you need anything.”
With that, Max took my hand and we walked slowly through the gallery. As we walked, we took the time to stop and look over each letter—even though in the end, we’d read them all before we handed them over to Damon—and the pictures that he’d found to correspond with each display. There were photos of Nathan and Freddie, both alone and together, throughout their lives. There were newspaper clippings relevant to their lives. Any and all artifacts that Damon found had gone into the exhibit, depicting the love the two men shared from young adulthood until they both passed away. There were pictures of their separate families and children, and even displays on the underground speakeasies that allowed gay people to love freely, which at least one letter had referenced. Damon had done an excellent job of telling a story through the exhibit, showing howmuch they’d loved one another, and how impossible that love was at the time.
As we walked and looked and read, my throat tightened and tears stung my eyes. I couldn’t imagine being forced to live a lie, or the adversity the two men had gone through just to love one another a little bit at a time. I was grateful to those who had come before us, and I squeezed Max’s hand to let him know how I was feeling. He looked back at me and squeezed in return, and I knew he understood.
Just as we made our way to the entrance of the gallery where the reception was being held, people were arriving and taking seats, having snacks, or milling around. I was grateful we’d had a few minutes to process what was on display without prying eyes. I blinked away the tears, swallowed the lump in my throat, and nodded as I saw my three best friends making their way into the gallery.
Slade, Knox, and Axton were dressed in actual non-work clothes, and they each offered a fist bump as a greeting. I was proud to see them there, and touched that they’d all shown up.
Axton spoke first. “This is great, man. Congratulations.” Slade and Knox murmured their agreement.
“You guys should have a look around. It’s a great exhibit.”
Knox took a glass of wine from a server circulating the room and grinned. “Plus, there’s free food and booze.”
Slade elbowed him, causing Knox to grunt. “Don’t act like a caveman.”
I just rolled my eyes and shook my head. “In the meantime… guys, this is Max. Max, these are my best friends.” I introduced each of them.
Knox practically tripped over himself to apologize. “Shit, man, I’m sorry. I mean crap. I shouldn’t swear in a museum, right?”
Damon came by then, laughing, a smile up to his eyes. “It’s okay,” he murmured just loud enough for our group to hear. “Iwon’t tell if you don’t.” The comment caused Knox’s face to burn red and he nodded and mumbled something unintelligible into his wine glass before wandering away to look at the exhibit.
A few minutes later, Sterling showed up looking flustered.
