Page 64 of Pages of My Heart

Jonathan

The reception venue overlooks the San Francisco Bay and is filled with family and friends, gay and straight alike.

White chairs are set out in rows, and the center aisle is adorned with colorful flowers.

Charlie double-checks that the celebrant is ready and then sets off to find his wife, Paula, to let her know it’s almost time to begin.

All the O’Reilly’s are here from Chicago—Bridget, Michael, and Maggie with their spouses, kids, and grandkids.

Uncle Donnie is here with his second wife, and his mom, Evie, is keeping tabs on his fathers in the adjoining bridal rooms.

Jonathan knows, of course, that neither Charlie nor Thomas are his biological fathers.

They are, in fact, his uncles, and only Charlie by blood.

But according to his mother, he insisted they were his dads when he was a toddler, and no amount of correcting made any difference.

In the end they had just rolled with it, settling on Pops for Charlie, and Dad for Thomas.

It doesn’t surprise Jonathan at all. He has many fond memories from his childhood, and all the best ones include Charlie and Thomas.

They were there for him, and they loved him, and Jonathan credits them with making him the father he has become to his own three children—Katie, eight, Eileen, six, and little Charlie, who has just turned three.

“Daddy, Daddy, when is it going to start?” Eileen asks, grabbing his hand just as he spots Paula.

“Soon, baby girl. I need to tell Mommy it’s time to take your seats up front.”

Katie taps him on his other arm. “Daddy, where are Granddad and Grandpop?”

“They’re down the hall getting dressed in their special suits.” Jonathan points toward the rooms as he finally reaches Paula.

“John, is it time?” Paula asks, little Charlie perched on her hip.

“Sure is. I just need to check that the music is ready and then head down to get them into position.” He checks his watch for what must be the tenth time in as many minutes. “God, I feel nervous. I just really want this to be perfect for them.”

Paula smiles and squeezes his arm. “It will be. Everyone is here and looking forward to it. It’s a beautiful thing you’ve done for them, honey. They deserve this. It’s a love that should be celebrated.”

“Thanks, babe.” He kisses Paula and ruffles Charlie’s hair before walking over to where the DJ has set up his equipment.

“Hey, man,” he says. “Did you find that song? The Gershwin one—‘The Man I Love’?”

“On the turntable and ready to go, brother,” replies the DJ. “But you sure they don’t want something a little groovier? Some Stevie? Captain and Tennille? The Bee Gees, man!”

Johnathan chuckles. “You can play all those later for the reception. But for walking down the aisle, it’s got to be ‘The Man I Love.’”

“Sure thing, good lookin’.” The DJ gives him a wink. “Are we about to get this party started?”

“Yeah, I’ll give you the signal when it’s time to start the music. Gimme five minutes.”

Jonathan heads toward the bridal rooms, feeling pleased with himself for organizing his dads’ special song.

Over the years, he’s heard about how they met and how they had to hide their relationship, especially in the early days.

He knows most people still think it’s a sin to be gay, but he grew up seeing it firsthand, and he knows, fucking knows, that there’s nothing wrong with it.

Living in San Francisco certainly makes it easier.

With its thriving gay and lesbian community, his dads get to live a little freer these days.

They can hold hands in the Castro district and relax and have a drink at the Elephant Walk and just generally be themselves a lot easier than they could even just ten years ago.

And things are getting better all the time.

Years ago, his dads told him that they exchanged private vows in their early twenties and have considered themselves married ever since.

But he hopes today will bring them one step closer to what they’ve always wanted—a chance for them to declare their love publicly.

He wants for them to be celebrated and admired. Forty years together is pretty special.

Jonathan remembers when he was little, maybe five or six, and he first saw them kissing.

Not just a peck on the lips, like he would witness every day, but a passionate kiss.

Their bedroom door had been ajar, and he’d wanted to show Dad his new book.

He didn’t interrupt because even at that age he could see it was meant to be a private moment, but he watched, spellbound, as they held each other, lips locked together in a way he had never seen before.

He knew it was love, and it made him blush and giggle.

It never occurred to him that their love could be considered wrong.

Then at about the age of nine he’d heard someone call his dads a couple of “filthy fucking faggots” when they’d been out shopping for groceries.

The word was unknown to him, but the way it had been spit out, like venom, and filled with such vicious hate told him it must be something bad.

Dad had swept him away while Pops had begun cursing at the irate man.

Images of that day are still etched in his mind.

When they’d arrived home, Jonathan had asked what the word faggot meant, Pops’ face turning white hearing it come out of his mouth.

Later that night, they’d had a family meeting.

His parents took hours explaining things to him.

How they were not a normal family, how Dad and Pops loved each other, but the world said they shouldn’t.

They told him it had to be kept secret, and from that day on, whenever he was with friends or out in public, he called Thomas Dad and Charlie Uncle.

He knew that if he made a mistake, his dads could be taken away from him.

To prison even. For a long time, he carried that fear with him everywhere he went.

When Jonathan was twelve, a kid at school was bullying his friend, calling him a faggot and a fairy.

He beat the living daylights out of that kid and was suspended for it, too.

And that wasn’t the last time he got into a fight over assholes who didn’t understand.

He will always defend his fathers. They are good and decent men—kind and loving, and strict when it matters.

Pops always takes care of Dad when he has an episode, although they are rare nowadays.

They look at each other across the dinner table like they are the only two people in the universe.

Jonathan witnesses them bicker over silly things and then declare their love with such ferocity that it blows his mind.

But most importantly, Pops and Dad, and him and his mom, have always been a family.

He opens the door to the first bridal suite to find his dad adjusting his bow tie in front of a full-length mirror.

“Dad, you ready? It’s time.”

Thomas turns, nervous energy dancing across his features. There’s a youthful exuberance there, too, and Jonathan smiles, eyes watering up. Thomas’s hair is turning white in places, but Jonathan thinks he looks dashing in his deep green three-piece suit.

“Is Pops ready?” Thomas asks.

Jonathan walks across the room to his father. “I’ll check on him next. Honestly, I’m surprised you two haven’t snuck in to see each other already.”

“We tried, but your mom is like the damn Gestapo. She’s in with Pops now. Hey, Jonathan”—Thomas squeezes his shoulder—“thank you for this. I mean it. Is everyone really here? All my family from Chicago?”

“All here,” he reassures. “And it’s the least I can do. Not every couple makes it to forty years and is still crazy in love.” Jonathan takes a deep breath, quite overcome. “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, Johnny. Now get a move on. I want to see your father.”

Jonathan rolls his eyes, but he smiles, too. “You just want to get to the kissing part.”

“You little shit,” Dad says, but he’s laughing.

“Okay, wait here a minute, then take your place at the front of the aisle. The celebrant is already in position. I’ll collect Pops and Mom and then we’ll be ready to start.”

Thomas

Once Jonathan has left, Thomas turns to study his reflection in the mirror one last time.

Sometimes he wonders where all the years went.

He’s already fifty-eight, and Charlie’s just turned sixty.

Fortunately, they’re still in great health and looking forward to their retirement.

Charlie recently handed over the car dealership to Jonathan, and Thomas will retire from Stanford in a matter of months.

His years as an English professor have been incredibly rewarding, but he’s ready to take things a little slower.

Charlie started the car dealership back in 1950, and it set them up for life.

His husband excelled at selling cars, and for that reason, they feel financially secure and able to retire early.

When they arrived in California in August of ’45, they were unsure where to settle and bounced around for a few months.

It was just a stroke of luck that Evie overheard a small group of women gossiping about how San Francisco had a burgeoning gay and lesbian community.

Upon arrival, they promptly fell in love with the city and its picturesque bay.

When no garage would hire him because of his disability, Charlie took a job managing a car dealership, and Thomas took a classroom teaching position before being promoted to headmaster the following year.

In 1953 they splurged on their dream home, the one they still live in to this day.

It’s a beautiful two-story Queen Anne in North Beach, overlooking the water.

And it has that big wrap-around porch they always wanted.