Joshua carded his fingers through Colin’s sandy waves. “Of them or ofyou, my love.”
Colin kissed him again and returned the picture to its place on the mantle. Then he turned to face the dining room. For a long time, he stood, staring at the new octagon window, drawing in slow, deep breaths, remembering. He looked down at his hands, healed now, with only a few tiny white scars to prove anything had ever happened. Then he lifted his eyes back to the window.
“We need curtains,” he whispered, his voice shaking. “Sheer ones.”
“Yes, my love. So we can see the river while we eat.”
“And a new dining room table.”
“And a new liquor cabinet,” Joshua added, smiling.
Colin took a slow, tentative step toward the octagon window. “I hope we’ve got some money left in our account.”
Joshua grinned. “Well––the city just added fifteen grand to it, so I think we’re golden.”
Colin turned, surprise flickering in his eyes. “They did?”
“Esther was not to be denied.”
Colin scoffed out a laugh. “Esther is seldom to be denied.” He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. Then he looked back at Joshua. “Do they know I’m home?”
“They do. But you’re still officially on paid admin leave.” He sniffed out a soft laugh. “Another gift from the Charlottesville City Council.”
“Evermy friends and biggest supporters,” Colin muttered, his voice edged with sarcasm. He moved to the window and stood, looking out at the Rivanna River. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered. Then ran his hands over the new octagon window. “Did it really only take forty-five minutes?”
“I don’t think it tookthatlong.”
Colin turned toward the kitchen, and Joshua followed, standing in the doorway watching while Colin inspected the new stove, dishwasher, and refrigerator. “You pick these?” he asked.
“I did. I hope you approve.”
“I do, but this isyourkingdom.” He waved at the empty walls. “Cupboards?”
“They’re on their way. Graham said they’d be here sometime Thursday and go up on Friday. “In the meantime”—he gestured to the boxes piled against the walls—“if we need dishes and such, they’re all there.”
Colin’s gaze drifted from corner to corner, his shoulders loosening as he took it all in. “Coffee machine?”
“On the porch.”
Colin turned and moved toward the door, each step steadier than the one before.
When Joshua entered, he was smiling and running his hands over his stationary bike. “Seems none the worse,” he observed,then nodded toward the coffee machine, which sat on the counter with several of their favorite mugs nearby. “I approve.”
“We were lucky. That door was closed, and we spent extra when we bought it to get a good one, so not much damage out here.” He nodded toward the curved coat hangers in the walls. “And thankfully, that’s where your leather was hanging.”
Colin slid his hand down the sleeve of his beloved leather. “Thankfully, indeed,” he murmured, voice low with relief. He glanced at Joshua. “Kept me warm on that very long road.”
Joshua walked to his side and wrapped both arms around his neck. “How does it all feel, myyedid?”
Colin drew him close, then inhaled a long, deep breath. “I have to tell you… I was scared. But oddly enough, it feels like home,” he told Joshua. “It looked pretty much this same way the day we moved in. Took us a while to get organized then, too.” He shrugged. “This feels about like that,” He kissed Joshua, then kissed him again. “Just with more”––he drew in a long breath––“history.”
“You ready to see upstairs?”
“How is it?” Colin asked.
“It’s fine. Now.”
Colin nodded, then turned, and still holding Joshua’s hand, they walked through the kitchen and living room to the bottom of the stairs. David and Nate were still on the front porch, sitting in lawn chairs, and Colin paused to stick his head out. “You guys can come in, you know.” He left the new oak front door open.
