To that, Graham immediately shakes his head. “No. That’s not me. I’m not trying to make a statement or tell anyone how to live. I’ve made way too many mistakes. And Silas has been through too much?—”
“Will you let him talk?” I say.
He looks at me. “I don’t mind explaining myself, but I’m not trying to set an example here. Also my family…” His words trail off, and I get the feeling he’s already censoring himself.
“Listen,” Fischer says. “I do have an angle. As a queer man in the public eye, I’ve had to deal with backlash, too. My relationship with my partner is unconventional, and we’ve had our fair share of shit to deal with from family, too. This is as much to do with your withdrawing your support for the human trafficking bill as it is with you coming out. It’s meant to be about pride.”
“Oh,” Graham says, though he looks slightly green.
“I’ll send it to you before I send it to my editor. If it doesn’t work for you, or you want any changes, just let me know. But this is a unique opportunity to put a human face on issues a lot of people grapple with. Family pressure. Coming out. The choice not to. The politics of pride.”
“That should be the title,” I say.
Fischer glances at me. “I’m glad you’re both here.”
“Well, he’s got a big crush?—”
Graham shuts me up with a hand over my mouth. “What’s your first question?” he asks Fischer.
“Talk to me about what it was like to grow up gay in the Catholic church.”
“That has more to do with who my family is than the church,” Graham begins, and then he goes on.
He and Fischer talk for hours, occasionally asking me to chime in. They cover a lot of ground, and I learn things I didn’t know before either. I knew a little about his sister, but Graham goes into a lot more detail, and my sympathy for the bind he found himself in a year ago grows. He was afraid to end up like her. It was the only example he ever had of what happened when someone went against his family.
Knowing she turned out all right is a big part of the reason he feels confident about the choices he’s making. So it wasn’t allabout me after all, but he definitely sees me as the reward, and that’s a lot to live up to, which I don’t mind saying.
Close to five, Fischer’s boyfriend comes in, accompanied by his son. He introduces them to us. Graham and I shake hands with Matthew who gives Fischer a long hug and kiss on the cheek. Their hands separate at the last possible second as Matthew takes Vaughan into the kitchen to make dinner.
“Will you stay?” Fischer asks. “I think I have everything I need for the piece.”
Graham glances at his annoyingly persistent phone and pales at the amount of notifications filling the screen. I take it from his hand. “We’d love to,” I say, only because he needs to eat, and I could use a free meal, too.
Plus, it doesn’t hurt Graham to be exposed to a happy gay couple living their lives like any other happy couple can once they’ve decided they belong together. I doubt he’s ever seen it up close before. It ends up being a nice night.
While we cross the park to his apartment after dinner, he says. “They seemed like best friends.”
“Yeah.”
“What do you think he meant by unconventional relationship?”
“I don’t know,” I say, having been wondering the same thing. “Maybe the age gap?”
“They seemed pretty conventional to me,” he says.
“Are you ready for all this, senator?” I ask, because we still have our own relationship to sort out.
We’re not too far away from the place he blew me that one day during the time when I couldn’t decide from one minute to the next whether I wanted him all over me or to stay the hell away from me.
“With all your talk about fresh starts, maybe I’ve been wondering what all the fuss is about,” Graham says.
That manages to make me laugh. “How are you planning to break the news to the senate?”
“Assuming they all don’t know already, the same way everyone else does. A late night social media post.”
I press my lips together, stop walking and turn to face him. “You’re going a little nuts with this. It’s okay to pace yourself.”
“I’ve been pacing myself my entire life.”