Page 39 of For the Rest of Forever
He risked looking back up at her, and he saw the slow evolution of emotions in her eyes as she processed his words. Her smile faded to a frown, and then she pursed her lips and nodded.
“You’re such an important part of this community, Allen,” she said gently. “I know you know that, but just in case you need to hear it again, I’ll tell you. You make this community better by justbeing here. You... makemea better person. And you bring joy and hope and happiness to all the kids who come in here every day.” She inhaled sharply and held his gaze. “You’re loved and important. And I’m so happy to know you. I’m so happy you’re here, Allen. Please... please don’t ever forget that. Okay?”
There were tears in the corners of his eyes now, and Allen blinked them back, willing himself not to cry. He nodded. “O-okay,” he managed, but his voice trembled a bit.
With another gentle smile, Annabeth tipped her head toward the main room. “I’ll just go finish tidying up until Greg gets here.”
“Greg, yeah. I’ll—I’ll go ahead and text him right now. Shouldn’t be long. Thank you,” he said. And then, because he was feeling quite overwhelmed, he repeated it again. “Thank you, Annabeth.”
She nodded and then turned and left.
Allen swiped at his eyes, brushing away the tears that hadn’t really fallen. Then he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and opened up his messaging app to text his husband.
***
“Glad the mushrooms wereon sale, and the daikon too. Were you thinking ground turkey or pork?” Allen stopped next to Greg at the meat counter of the grocery store, scanning the selections.
“Pork, I think. It’s more authentic Japanese, and I think that’s what I want tonight.” Greg leaned over slightly and shook his head. “Though with these prices, maybe we’ll just need to go vegetarian soon.”
Allen laughed, and Greg straightened up and slipped his arm around Allen’s shoulders as Jillian, the butcher, came out through a set of double doors and stepped up behind the counter.
“Hiya, Greg, Allen. What can I help you with?” Jillian said as she started putting on some plastic gloves.
Allen was quiet as Greg greeted Jillian, asked how her two children were doing, and then requested half a pound of ground pork. And as Greg was prone to do, he stuck around for another minute or two, chatting with Jillian about something or other. Allen tried to focus, but he found himself having a hard time listening and following the conversation. Eventually, another customer stepped up behind them, and Greg politely said goodbye. Allen and Greg then continued on a familiar route around the small grocery store, picking up a few more things on the way—some milk and a few spices and a container of Greg’s favorite local brand of salsa. By the time they’d checked out and headed back to their car with their couple of bags of groceries, it was nearly six thirty, and the beautiful sunny skies from earlier had darkened as clouds threatened to bring an early evening storm.
Together, they loaded the groceries into the back of the SUV, and Allen climbed into his seat as Greg put the shopping cart away. A minute later, they were on their way home, and just as they turned out of the parking lot, the rain started up. It was immediately a heavy downpour, huge droplets pounding the windshield and gusts of wind pushing their small SUV around on the road.
Greg talked casually as he drove, completely unperturbed by the weather. And Allen did his best to keep up. But just as it had been with Jillian at the grocery store, he was only catching about half of what Greg was saying. He was just too tired—the exhaustion that had been plaguing him for the last few days beginning to creep back in. Their short trip to the supermarket seemed to have used up all of whatever energy Allen had left.
He hoped he could still manage to help Greg make dinner. He also hoped he had an appetite by the time dinner was ready.
“So, I already have a buyer for one of those photos I took when we were in Friday Harbor,” Greg said as they pulled into their driveway a few minutes later.
“Oh?” Allen unbuckled his seat belt, but didn’t move, not super keen on rushing out into the pouring rain. Greg seemed to feel the same. He shut off the engine but just sat there, staring off at the house.
“Yeah. I sent the unedited proofs to Mickey Stone—you remember her?” When Allen shook his head, Greg continued. “She stopped in at the Salmon Days Festival last year, and she’s been emailing me every couple of months since, asking for new proofs. She was looking for something very specific, but she didn’t really know exactly what.”
“And one of the Friday Harbor photos was it, huh?”
“Yep. The one with the pelicans just taking off from the water.”
“Ah, yeah. I liked that one too,” Allen said, smiling as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the headrest. “It was peaceful. And the sunset—those vivid colors, and the reflection in the water. And then the birds too.”
A sense of calm washed over him, just thinking about that view and the trip, and he remembered then that they’d mentioned maybe taking a vacation up there—just going to visit, not for something work related for Greg.
“What are you thinking, darling? Your smile, it’s... You look happy.” Greg’s hand covered his, and Allen turned his hand over so they could intertwine their fingers.
The touch felt warm and welcoming, and the same sense of calm and contentment that he’d been feeling bloomed even more in his chest. He looked down at where their hands were now joined, sitting on his thigh, and he nodded. “I was justremembering that trip to Friday Harbor. We should go again. For, um, vacation this time, though.”
“We should,” Greg agreed, and then he lifted Allen’s hand and brought it to his lips for a gentle kiss. “You get the time off from work, and I’ll make it happen. And I’ll even leave my camera at home, just like you said.”
Allen laughed lightly and shook his head. “You don’t have to do that. But a vacation sounds wonderful. Really, really... wonderful.”
Greg pressed his lips to Allen’s knuckles again and then lowered their hands back to Allen’s thigh. With a sigh, Greg leaned forward and looked out the front windshield. “It’s not letting up. Guess we’ll just have to deal with it. Ready?”
While Greg headed around to the back of the SUV to grab the bags of groceries, Allen made the short trip to the front door. By the time Allen reached the front porch and stepped up under the overhang, he was dripping wet. He might have been laughing if he wasn’t also so tired. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys just as Greg jogged up behind him, and for the first time that day, his hand started to shake just a little.
“Whew, it’s really coming down,” Greg said, and then, after a pause, during which Allen was unsuccessful at getting the key in the lock, Greg added, “You okay there, darling?”
