“What is it, Papaw?” Karl asked, leaning over his lap to see thealbum.
“I just found the shirt I was wearing the day Art and I are always fighting about.” Wes pressed his finger against the photo. “Look at that, Art Cromley, and tell me that isn’t what I was wearing thatday.”
Art inspected the picture with great care, the skepticism in his expression unmistakable. “This doesn’t prove anything,” Art insisted. “I figured you owned the clothes you were talking about, but I know exactly what you were wearing that day, and it was jeans and a whitetee.”
Wes shook his head. “You’re going to look at that picture and tell me that you don’t remember me wearing that shirt backthen?”
“Because I know I’mright.”
“Now you’re just beingstubborn.”
They quarreled a bit more in the playful way they had developed over the years, Art offering the tenderest of smirks throughout, because he obviously enjoyed the chatter between them more than being right or wrong. However, in this particular instance, Wes could tell he felt right all thesame.
Shortly after, Justin called everyone to the table packed with chairs and pulled out three additional table leafs. As Wes glanced around at all the friends and family who’d made it, he was pleased to see the different pieces of his life, the different generations present. Moments like these, Wes held dear to his heart, clutched on to them for every delicious second, the way he had clutched on to his strongArt.
When the evening came to a close, Wes and Art spent the night at Erin and Justin’s home, in their guest bedroom. Art crawled into bed the way he usually did, and Wes found himself staring, as he was prone to do. Art caught him and grinned. It was a magical smile as ever, even if Wes could detect the weariness in Art’sdisposition.
“Oh, does someone want to get frisky tonight?” Artsaid.
“We’ve had a busy day. Why don’t we wait until tomorrow to really get down tobusiness?”
“Feel free to just roll over and plow me if you need me to fulfill my husbandly duties,” Art said with a wink. He leaned over to Wes and offered a kiss, soft and sweet, and Wes grabbed the back of his head and held him close, pressing their lips tighter together, never willing to miss a chance at yetanother.
“Thank you,” Art said, pulling away and gazing into Wes’seyes.
Wes knew all he was appreciative for. It hadn’t been easy for either of them, and for Art in particular. Even though it’d gotten easier more recently, they continued to face the struggles of their new life and the fear of what could always lie ahead. Wes wouldn’t have changed it for anything, though. Not to miss a day, an hour, a minute, a single second with hisArt.
“Thankyou,” Wes replied. “I love you, ArtCromley.”
“I love you, WesBrenner.”
Wes chuckled, and Art inquired, “What was that laughabout?”
“Just thinking about who we’vebecome.”
“Two crotchety old men with a lot of pills,” Art teased. “Seriously, we should become drug dealers. We’d make a smallfortune.”
“Two crotchety old men in love, is what I wasthinking.”
“Who gripe about who wore what back on a day neither of us can really remember?” Art added with a warmsmile.
“I remember that dayperfectly.”
“We both remember the parts that really matter,” Art acknowledged, and they gazed into each other’s eyes, this time neither questioning each other’s expressions, because Wes knew with certainty how much Art loved him, and how much he lovedArt.
He wondered if any two people could have ever loved as hard as they loved one another. He doubted it, but all that mattered to him tonight was that he had another night. He didn’t know how long they would have those, but when the time came, it wouldn’t matter, because they had loved with their all. And on that day, they would leave the world knowing that they had truly given their everything to oneanother.
When Wes faced his creator, if he asked Wes what his greatest joy in the world had been, he would say that it was knowing what it really meant to love and being given so many wonderful opportunities to explore it in all its beautiful forms, and after his many praises, he would hand over his soul, but only his soul, since his heart would always belong to a man namedArthur.
