Chapter Twenty-Three
Afew dayslater and back at the store, Rico stood, hands on hips, and surveyed the progress made while he was away in Texas. Gideon waited, gnawing on his bottom lip, anxiety creasing his face.
“Well? What do you think? I figured if we were going to have to redo the front part of the store, we might as well go for it. And we’d talked about a little eating area, so—”
“I love it. Gid, man, don’t stress. It’s perfect.”
And it was. Gideon’s creativity didn’t only extend to his food. He had a true artistic flair. The fan-backed chairs and mosaic tables he picked out meshed beautifully with the new color scheme, a calming blue-green, like the Mediterranean Sea. He’d hired a local high-school student, who’d painted a beautiful mural of the beach in Tel-Aviv. It all spoke of a quiet place to sit and relax with a cup of tea or coffee, along with a piece of cake or a cookie.
Gideon’s face lit up with a smile. “Yeah? Great. I figured we’d talked enough about it that it would be cool.”
They walked through the swinging door to the back, leaving the workmen they’d hired to continue putting in the new flooring. When Rico had returned from his week in Texas, he’d been amazed at the transformation achieved in such a short time. Gideon had confessed to using Jonah’s rabbi position to get the job pushed to the top as high priority.
“I told them it was a necessity for the synagogue. We’re Jews; we need our food.”
All Rico could do was laugh and hug his best friend tightly. They’d come through the fire, literally, stronger than ever.
“Rico?”
At the sound of his name he turned to see Maryann, the woman he’d had drinks with a couple of weeks earlier, standing at the doorway.
“Oh, hi.”
“I’m sorry. They said you were back here.” Her dark brows arched upward. “Am I interrupting…”
“Not at all. This is my partner, Gideon Marks. We spoke about him when we met, remember?”
“Oh, yes. You were in Boston, I believe, with your fiancé? Congratulations by the way. When’s the wedding?” She joined them in the hallway.
Gideon leaned against the wall. “We haven’t made anything official, but probably before the end of the year. It’s going to be very small. Close friends and immediate family.”
“Wonderful.” She faced Rico. “I’m here on official business of sorts. My news station wants to do a feature on you guys. Showing how the community pulled together to help a small neighborhood business. A real human-interest story.”
“Maryann works at the local news station.” Rico realized Gideon had no idea who she was. “She’s originally from Miami and knows my father, so he told her to look me up when she moved here. We met for a drink when you and Jonah were in Boston.”
“Yeah, he thought we’d make a nice couple.” She flashed him a bright smile.
If he were straight, she’d be his type as well; smart, funny, with a pretty face and nice curves. He wondered if he could trust her. He’d taken a chance with Adam; maybe it was a sign to open himself up to more people.
He knew what Gideon would say, and by the thoughtful look on his best friend’s face, Rico decided to hell with it. Being with Adam this past week and hearing the horrific story of Wayne’s short life made him realize he had one chance on this planet. He’d better make it count.
“Let’s go into my office and talk.” He pushed open his door, and both Gideon and Maryann followed him. He sat behind his desk, and Gideon joined him, Rico knew, in a show of support and solidarity. Maryann, most likely expecting to chat about the project, took out a small, leather-bound notebook and a pen, and gazed at him expectantly.
“I’m about to share a personal story I’ve entrusted only to Gideon. I discovered something. That I didn’t like myself and the way I’ve been living, but it had become a way of life for me, so I didn’t know how to break free.”
Maryann put the pen and notebook down in her lap and listened. Gideon moved his chair closer. All Rico could see was Adam’s face in that barn and hear his voice relaying Wayne’s story. It gave him the courage he needed.
“Last week I learned of a boy who only wanted to live his dream, yet his father refused to accept who he was. So rather than be forced to live his life as a lie, he chose to end it.”
At Maryann’s startled gasp, Rico closed his eyes a second, then reopened them at the gentle squeeze of Gideon’s hand on his shoulder.
“See, gay pride isn’t about rainbows and parades. It’s a life that millions of people live every day. People want to be treated equally. Like you said to me: it isn’t gay marriage; it’s marriage. Gideon shouldn’t have to worry that if he walks down the street, holding Jonah’s hand, they might get hurt. He should be able to be with the person he loves.” He swallowed hard. “So should I.”
Maryann stared steadily at him and dipped her head in understanding. “I agree with everything you’ve said. No one has the right to tell another person who to love. And I’m so sorry about that young man.”
A tremendous weight lifted from his chest. He’d told his deepest secret and survived. “I wish…I wish he could’ve lived to see the strides made. There may be a long way to go, but so much good has happened as well.”
“It has,” Gideon said, his hand remaining firm and strong atop Rico’s shoulder. “The fact that Jonah and I are together, planning a wedding his father will officiate, says so.”
