“Absolutely!” Colin said. “And dining room furniture.”
“You’ll spend a fortune at that place,” David muttered. “Iknow. I’ve bought from them.”
“I don’t care,” Colin told him. “We’re building something beautiful here. We have the money, and we’re going to spend it.” He lifted his stout to his lips and sipped. “Life’s too goddamn short.”
“Gotta feel good to think about sleeping in your own bed tonight,” Nate said, reaching to poke Colin’s ribs with a finger.
“Well, yeah,” Colin drawled out, then leaned closer to Nate. “Eventually.”
Nate snorted out a laugh. “Oh boy, Josh, you’re in for a looooong night.”
“I’ll let you know if I hear him complain,” Colin replied with a snicker.
“Believe me, he won’t complain,” Joshua murmured, stroking Colin’s hair. Then he turned toward Nate. “Hey, Nate, I meant to ask you and forgot. How’s the play coming along?” He turned to Colin. “RememberThe Campfire Wish, the play that Nate wrote with his writing class at Camp Pride? He’s working with those kids again.”
Nate grinned. “My writing group and my sophomore class are combining all the play ideas to create one beautiful LGBTQ+ production.”
Colin reached to pat his arm. “Jesus, Nate, that’s great!”
“It was actually David’s idea. I told him at Camp Pride that it broke my heart to have to choose justoneplay from somany great concepts.” He reached to touch his husband’s arm. “He reminded me that I was a playwright and had the whole apparatus of UVA at my fingertips.”
Colin tilted his head. “You’re using all of them?”
“We are,” Nate said. “It’ll be a collage of all their ideas. A kind of patchwork play—funny, messy, meaningful, brilliant. Each scene showcases one of the writing group’s concepts. Some hopeful, some scared, some bold. It’s shaping up to become something truly beautiful.”
Joshua smiled. “That’s wonderful, Nate. You’re giving all those kids a voice.”
Nate shrugged, but his eyes were bright. “They earned it. I told my students they were co-writing it with the campers. And I meant it.”
“And onthatnote, dear friends,” David said, rising. “We shall head home.” He embraced Colin with a sigh. “Goddamn it, boy! I’m going to miss thehellout of you two!”
Colin nodded, his eyes welling. “It wasn’t like visiting, Davy. It was like being…home. We—we just,” he shook his head, tears falling onto his cheeks. “There’s just no way to thank you.”
“Then don’t. It’s not necessary. You’d do the same for us in a heartbeat.”
Nate embraced Colin, struggling to hold back his tears. “See you this weekend?”
“Absolutely.”
“Come for dinner on Sunday,” Joshua said. “The downstairs should be nearly done. And we should have a dining room table and chairs by then.”
“Come whether we do or not,” Colin said, one arm around Nate’s shoulders. “We’ll find a place to sit.”
“We’ll be here,” David said, taking Nate’s hand.
Colin and Joshua stood on the porch, watching as their friends drove away, then turned and embraced.
“Damn!” Colin breathed out.
“I know,” Joshua said, wiping his face with the back of his hand.
Colin peered down at him. “Alone at last,” he murmured with a slow smile.
Joshua turned as the noise of a truck echoed down the road. “Uh, not quite yet,” he said, pointing.
Colin turned to see Graham Kingsley’s truck pulling into the driveway, followed by a van carrying his team of workers. Colin lowered his head, laughing. “Well, there’sthatidea shot.”
Joshua hugged him tight. “Tonight, my love. Tonight.”
