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“Hey guys! That’s an odd thing to be doing on New Year’s Eve.”

They’re painting Orion’s front door when they should be preparing for the night’s revels, or playing with Jake, or something fun. It’s New Year’s Eve, after all. A day to celebrate.

“We’ll tell you about it later,” Hideo says. “How was your day?”

“Busy! Seems like everybody wanted a piece of me. But it’s over now.” I hold out a bag of goodies from the bakery. “We had some of the seedy loaf left today, and I tossed in a little something for Jake.”

“Thanks!” Orion says, laying a few last paint strokes on the upper edge of the door. He’s so tall! I’d need a ladder to reach that high. “You’re spoiling us, you know.”

“Could you drop it inside?” Hideo says, working on the bottom corner of the door. “We’re almost finished here.”

“So mysterious!” I say, edging past them so I don’t get paint on my shirt.

I find some iced tea in the fridge and rummage through the bakery bag. We had a bear claw left over—a rare occurrence because they usually go fast—so I cut it in a few pieces. I add a few cookies and head out to refresh my busy guys.

“So what’s up with the door?” I ask as I’m offering the treats.

“Just some local kids,” Orion says. “Ooh. This looks good. Are those oatmeal cookies?”

Hideo has his arms crossed and looks furious, so it must be more than that.

“Orion, you’re too kind.” Hideo hands me his phone, showing a picture of graffiti sprawled across Orion’s door.

“This is terrible!” I say, buzzing with anger. “Did you call the police?”

“We filed an online report,” Hideo says, adding the last few strokes of paint.

I don’t know how they can be so calm. This is hateful! I can’t stand that my gentle giant has been subjected to such bigotry, such hate.

“We should get the police out here. Do you know who did it? The cops should go down there and…”

“Really, it’s fine,” Orion says, strangely calm. I don’t understand it. “Let’s let it drop. We filed the report, the graffiti is gone, and Hideo scared them off, at least for now. It’s New Year’s Eve, and I want to celebrate.”

I’m so frustrated. I want to do something, anything, to protect my friend, but I don’t know what. It’s intolerable, but it’s his life, and I shouldn’t stick my nose into it. But I care for him, and I want to do something.

“All finished!” Hideo says, corralling me back toward the garage. “Orion, could you take care of the drop cloth? Bertie and I will wash out the brushes.”

“I know it’s frustrating,” he says quietly to me, rubbing my back as I pound the brushes in the streaming water in the sink. “But we need to let him find his own way through this. If you can, just hold tight and watch him. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

Orion comes in, carrying the neatly folded drop cloth and the can of paint, stowing them on a shelf in the back. Jake, as always, is close on his heels.

“We’re going to play catch out back,” Orion says, walking over and wrapping an arm over Hideo’s shoulder. “Do you want to join us?”

“You go, Hidie-ho,” I say. I still need a minute before I can be coherent. “I’ll finish up the brushes.”

“Thanks, handsome,” Orion says, giving me a kiss on the cheek.

I look down at the sink, hiding my misty eyes. This man…he’s remarkable. All this strength after such a terrible attack. How can he face it and still stay so kind, so gentle?

I’m a ball of emotions, frustrated I can’t take direct action but overwhelmed by that one little kiss, given so freely, so naturally. So, I do what I always do: give my emotions time to battle it out. I slam the brushes in the running water until they’re good and clean, and pound some more for good measure. I go out to the front porch and retrieve the tray of goodies, stifling my desire to smash them against the wall. I lay it all out on the backyard deck, straightening up the cushions on the deck chairs and letting myself punch each one back into shape. Eventually, I’m calm enough to sit and watch my wonderful men.

They’re running poor Jake ragged with a frisbee. Hideo is laughing, full spontaneous laughs, caught up in the game. Laughing like I haven’t seen in years. After a particularly good catch, Orion runs over and grabs him around the middle, lifting him off his feet, and giving him that same kiss on the cheek. Hideo laughs even more, radiant, then it’s back to the game, Jake jumping and catching the frisbee in mid-air.

Hideo is right. As I watch, I’m surprised, and pleased. This is a new Orion, a confident Orion, a happy Orion. Laughing in the face of the crap that just happened this morning. I don’t see a shred of shame. His tentacles whirl and writhe as they play, seemingly just another happy part of our GingerGiant. And we helped him get there, helped him see he’s perfect just the way he is. Now we need to help him find the space to keep believing it.

“I feel grubby,” Orion says, tossing the frisbee on the table. Even Jake looks like he’s ready for a break, and that’s saying a lot. “I need a rinse. Come and join me—I want to get a taste of both of you.”

And just like that, Hideo and I are leaning against the steamy shower wall, trying to hold back as long as we can under the erotic assault of those magical tentacles.