“Yes, I’m ready.”
After we went through a Starbucks drive-thru to get coffee for our drive, we stopped at the gas station. It was a little after eight thirty once we pulled onto the freeway. I felt energetic as we made our way toward our destination.
“So, do you want to get your parents anything for Christmas?” I asked as soon as the scenery faded from the city to open desert.
“I don’t know of anything off the top of my head, but I thought that while you and I are there, we might spot something that they could use. If that’s the case, we’ll do that.”
We’ll. As in, that is whatwe’dget them for Christmas.
“A together gift?”
“Yes, a together gift,” he said.
Did he think I meant a together gift for them, or a together gift from us? I started to feel really warm as the anxiety started to creep in. What would his folks think of me? Or, more importantly, what would they think of Russell being with me?
I tried to think of a way to explain what I meant or was wondering before the nerves took over. Russell always wanted me to ask questions and be open with him rather than bottle up worries and concerns.
“Did you mean it would be a gift for both of them, or did you mean it would be a gift from us?”
I turned my head slightly to look out the side window. Instantly, I could feel my nerves calming when his warm hand wrapped around the top of my balled-up hand on the console.
“I meant that it would be a gift from both of us.”
“Do you think they’ll be okay with a gift with my name on it?”
“They will be thrilled to see your name beside mine.”
“Until they realize what trash I am,” I mumbled.
“Ryan—”
“Do they know you wear a ring and I wear a bracelet-thing?”
Russell squeezed my fist with his hand, and I could feel him giving me a sideways glance. When I realized Russell was trying to get me to uncurl my fist, I opened my hand and laced my fingers with his. Would I be able to touch him much while we were visiting his parents? Russell said it would be okay, but would it really?
“Ryan, they know we’re in a committed relationship. We have something less than traditional, but no less the meaning. In fact, our bond and commitment are much greater than many marriages.”
“I’m lucky you’re so tolerant with me.”
“I never see this as me being tolerant, Ryan. I’ve told you before, I know how to love you and give you what you need, want, and crave.”
He absolutely did.
“I guess lots of people can be in committed relationships without the marriage certificate or rings.”
“Would a ring be something you’d be interested in?”
I didn’t think so.
“No.”
“I love mine.”
I knew he did. Many times, I’d caught him rubbing the inside of it with his thumb. I’d do something similar with my bracelet. I’d hook a finger between the material and my skin. The material wasn’t tight, but it was snug. So when I slipped a finger between it and my wrist, it reminded me that I have him.
“I know you do. But I love my bracelet. I’m not a ring guy.”
“You’re not, hmm?”
