twenty-six

“Your friends are lovely,” Mom says to me, smiling as she stirs up the batter for pancakes. “I really enjoyed dinner last night. Such lively conversations!”

Lively might be understating it. Lucas took center stage for the evening, telling stories that a year ago would have made my mother pass out on the floor in horror. He’s so funny and full of energy that everyone, including my mom, was laughing so hard that they practically spit the awesome meal that Mr. Malloy cooked back out onto the table a few times.

“Are they both still sleeping? Jamal is such a nice man. So serious. Quite the opposite of his…partner? Is that the right word?”

“Partner’s fine. Lucas mostly likes fiancé though.”

“Oh, right, they’re getting married.” She takes a deep breath and turns back to her pancakes. She stirs and flips for a while then turns back to me. “Do you think about getting married some day?”

I look at her. She’s asked me this before, but I know she always meant “do you think you’re going to marry a woman some day?” But I don’t think that’s what she’s asking now. I take a deep breath.

“I hope so.”

She nods. “What about children? I’ve always wanted to be an abuelita.” She smiles a little sadly. I never thought about that part of it. That she might have been worried that my being gay meant that she’ll never be a grandma.

“I like kids. I hope to have them someday.”

“But how?”

“There are different options. Lucas and Jamal want to use a surrogate. A woman who will actually carry one or both of their biological kids,” I add just on the off chance she doesn’t know what it is. “There’s also adoption. It will depend on who I marry and what we both decide, I guess.” She nods and then comes over to give me a kiss on the cheek before turning back to breakfast. She stirs the pancake batter for a few seconds and then turns to look at me.

“Lucas is very beautiful. He seems so comfortable in his lovely clothes. I think it is very nice that he can dress the way he feels. Everyone should be able to do that.” She reaches over and strokes my cheek, smiling a little. My eyes suddenly fill up with tears, and I have to sniff loudly to keep them in check.

“Buenos días, Pedersens!” Lucas sings out as he strides into the room, saving me from dissolving into a snotty mess. He clicks across the linoleum in his signature stilettos in hot pink to match his—I want to say shorts, but he probably has some other fashion label for them. The pink is set off by a deep-blue, tight-fitting T-shirt.

“Buenos días! You look lovely today, Lucas,” Mom says, affection obvious in her voice. “Those look like hot pants from the seventies.”

“Right you are, Mrs. P. You know your vintage fashion. Can I help with breakfast?”

“Sure, why don’t you help Jack set the table? Not that he offered,” Mom answers, giving me a mock stern look. I grin at her and lead the way to the dish cupboard, where I hand plates and cups to Lucas.

“Good morning, everyone,” Jamal says quietly as he comes into the room. “What can I do to help?”

“Such polite boys. You have a few things to learn from these two,” Mom says to me just as Lucas goes over and gives Jamal a good morning kiss. Right in front of my mother. I glance at her to see her reaction. All she does is smile.

She’s right. I do have a lot to learn from these two. Maybe I should start with that pop-up store in the bedroom.

Mrs. Lee gave us the day off to get things ready. We’ll be using the arena as the start point tomorrow. It’s only a block away from Main Street. It has a huge parking lot and an adjoining field where cars can be parked in case we actually do get a large crowd. I’m still not convinced it’s going to happen that way, but at this point, I don’t care. I know there are some people coming from Bainesville, and Ryan and Benjamin both say they have friends coming too. Ten people, twenty, or even one hundred and six…anything would be just fine with me.

Benjamin. Looks like I might not see him until the parade tomorrow. He has a doctor’s appointment late this afternoon that he wasn’t able to change, so his dad is driving him up tomorrow morning instead of today. That sucks in every possible way, but there’s nothing I can do about it except work so hard today that I don’t notice the time crawling by.

After we finish eating and cleaning up, Jamal drives me over to the school to pick up the materials we made and take them over to the arena. On the way, we stop and pick up Caleb at Ryan’s house. Ryan, Clare, and Lucas are staying there to work on Lucas’s speech for the rally and to download the music we’re going to use before meeting us at the arena.

The rally is a chance for people to tell their own stories and to share information. Lucas and Caleb are going to speak for sure, along with anyone else who wants to step up to the mic. Lucas wants me to talk because this whole thing was my idea, but I’m really not a speech-maker. Addressing the council and our make-shift Rainbow Club was enough public speaking to last me a lifetime. I don’t want to talk about myself in public. Everyone already knows more than enough about me.

Ryan agrees with Lucas, but I think Benjamin is the one who should speak. Everyone would listen to that beautiful voice. But he told me it would be enough effort just to be there and participate and that he’d rather listen to me. He’s been trying to persuade me into it for days, and if he tries again, he’ll probably succeed because I have a really hard time saying no to those eyes. So, I hope he doesn’t try. I really just want to march.

Jamal and I walk down the hallway, bringing on the usual stares and whispers. It takes a few seconds for me to realize that the eyes aren’t focused on me today. They’re staring at the tall, gorgeous man beside me who definitely stands out in the sea of white faces that flows down the halls of TMHS. I think that Henry, the man Benjamin noticed who owns the gas station, has a son who goes here, but besides him, this is probably the least diverse school in the country. I have no idea why it’s so homogenous, but it doesn’t really help with the whole “learning how to accept differences” thing when there aren’t any visible “differences” floating around.

Jamal seems cheerfully oblivious as we walk down to the art room. All of the work done by our makeshift Rainbow Club is neatly piled on the teacher’s desk, so we take it and put it carefully into big garbage bags to carry out to the car. As we start to leave the room, I stand and look at Benjamin’s rainbow.

“I think we should bring it,” I say to Jamal.

“Pardon?”

“The stone rainbow. It’s Benjamin’s art project. It’s kind of what started this whole thing. I think we can figure out a way to attach something to it, so it can be carried tomorrow.” Jamal looks at it speculatively and then goes over and lifts it slightly.

“It’s only plywood so it isn’t that heavy, even with all of the stones on it.” He shakes it a little. “They seem pretty secure as well. I can attach a couple of strong dowels without damaging it and find a couple of folks to carry it.”

“That would be great.”

We load the garbage bags into the car and then come back for the rainbow, carefully lifting it off the shelf and carrying it down the hall like a mini-parade procession just for TMHS. This would be a good time for Shawn to show up and try to intimidate me. Between Jamal and my big pile of colored stones, he wouldn’t stand a chance.

Mrs. Lee follows us out to the car.

“I’ll drop the prefab flags off in the morning. They just came in last night. Cutting it close. I assume you know Benjamin isn’t coming until tomorrow?” She looks at me. I try a smile, but it doesn’t quite work.

“Yes, he told me. At least he’s coming.”

“He is, and he’s determined to try walking the route. He’s using a cane right now, as you likely know, but he can’t go far very comfortably. We might have to gang up on him and persuade him to use a wheelchair for at least part of the walk. His dad is going to bring it along. I imagine that will be a bit of a fight.” She smiles.

“I’ll do what I can, but I’m not sure he’ll listen to me,” I tell her.

“Oh, you’d be surprised!” she says, with a look in her eyes that makes me smile flat out.

“Thanks for your help with all of this, Mrs. Lee.”

“No, Jackson. I thank you. I know you did this in great part for Benjamin. It has just lifted him up and made him quite fiercely determined to get better so that he can be here. He was so depressed after the accident that I was worried about his recovery.”

“Really? He always seems so strong and sure of himself.” Depressed? Benjamin?

“He’s a pretty good actor. He uses it as a bit of a shield against things that try to bring him down. It doesn’t always work. You’ll find that out as you get to know him better.”

As I get to know him better. Not if. Like she thinks I’m going to be around for a while.

“I look forward to it.”

“And I’m looking forward to tomorrow. Good luck with the rest of the preparations. I’ll see you at noon at the arena to help with the last-minute things.” She turns and heads back into the school.

Lucas, Caleb, and Clare meet us in the parking lot of the arena, and we all unload the car, taking everything inside. We spend the next couple of hours stapling posters and banners onto thin dowels that were donated by the local hardware store, which is surprising seeing as the owner is on the town council and wasn’t exactly supportive at either meeting. He wasn’t unsupportive either. Just conspicuously silent. But he’s helping now, so it’s all good. Jamal has gone over to the store to see if he’s willing to donate one more set of dowels strong enough to hold up the stone rainbow without breaking.

We have a giant banner made up of a collage of kids’ artwork from Ryan’s mom’s school. On it is every possible size, shape, and color of rainbow. There are some super cute pictures of rainbows wearing crowns, with our slogan “Rainbows Reign” on them. There’s even one picture of a bunch of teeny tiny rainbows falling from a cloud, made by someone who obviously decided to change the spelling of reign.

We have large posters that just say Pride, others that show hearts with Love Wins on them. Not as original as rainbows raining from the clouds, but seeing as this whole event is a first in this town, everything is going to seem new and different to anyone who takes the time to watch us. There are about fifty flags in the box Mrs. Lee gave us, already on sticks and ready to fly in the breeze tomorrow. We also have around twenty rainbow-colored scepters that Sarah and Nancy designed.

It’s supposed to be a nice day, sunny and warm but not too hot. The mayor will be disappointed.

The local police are on standby but not officially assigned to help us, other than to assess the numbers at 1:30, a half hour before start time, and decide whether or not to barricade Main Street for a few minutes to let us actually walk properly. Other than that, we have a dozen armbands for Cody’s security crew, who I’m still hoping won’t have anything to do but walk around looking terrifying.

Word spread quickly about Shawn being charged. I don’t know what that’s doing to public opinion about the parade and whether or not it will discourage the local hate society from coming out and making life difficult for us tomorrow. The negative comments are still popping up daily online, and I’m still deleting them.

It would be nice if you could do that to the actual people…just delete their negative comments and go about your business as if nothing had happened. Or better yet, delete the whole person—I’d like to do that to Shawn.

Still no trial date. Cody said his mom thinks it could be up to a year, or even longer. By then, most people will have forgotten what he did. Shawn, being a boy of very little brain, will likely have no idea what the lawyers are talking about by then. It seems like a weak system when everyone has to wait that long for something resembling justice.

“Jack! Wake up!” I feel a finger in my ribs, which makes me jump and drop the flag I’d been standing here staring at.

“Ow! Ryan, you need to cut your fingernails or, even better, don’t poke me!”

“Clare has asked you twice where you want the banner to go now that it’s ready.”

I look over to where she’s standing with the rolled-up banner in her hands. She waves at me cheerfully.

“Anywhere you can find a spot is fine,” I call over to her.

“Are you okay?” Ryan asks.

“Yeah. Just taking a mental break for two seconds.”

“It’s going great. We’re pretty much ready. Just get a good sleep tonight and it’ll be tomorrow before you know it.”

“Don’t remind me! I feel like the whole town is watching and expecting me to screw this up.”

“That’s all in your mind. It isn’t the whole town at all. Half, maybe three quarters, tops.” Ryan grins as Lucas comes up behind him and bops him on the head with a rolled-up poster.

“That is not helpful, Red!” he says, hitting him again. I look at Ryan’s face to get his reaction. He hates being called Red.

“Just trying to keep it real, Luke,” Ryan says, using the name that Lucas hates being called.

“Call me that again and I won’t be using paper.”

“You’d threaten a poor little kid in a wheelchair?” Ryan asks, putting a pathetic look on his face. Lucas laughs.

“You bet! I believe in equality.” He heads off to help Clare organize the rest of the flags, laying them all out on a table so they’re easy to grab tomorrow.

I look at my phone. Less than twenty-four hours now.

Everyone is so proud of me for standing up for Pride.

I really hope I don’t fall on my face.