Page 6 of For the Rest of Forever
Allen nodded in agreement, hit a few more buttons on his phone, and put it back on the nightstand next to his glasses before lying down again.
“Where were we?” Greg scooted over the last bit to close the distance between them, and Allen cuddled up against him, wrapping one arm around his waist.
“I was going back to sleep,” Allen mumbled, and Greg laughed quietly and kissed the top of Allen’s head.
“That’s right.”
“I love you.” The words were muffled against his chest, but Greg heard them easily enough, and he smiled and closed his eyes.
“I love you too, darling.”
Chapter Four
Allen
“Hi, friends! Who’s readyto read?”
Allen’s voice carried easily across the room, and the group of about twenty-five children collectively hushed as they settled on the colorful carpet in front of him. He smiled as he surveyed the group. He knew most of the children, but there were a few new faces, too, and that made his heart happy.
“We’ve got a very special treat for you all today,” Allen told them, and he could see as their little eyes widened with curiosity. He grinned again and then winked at them conspiratorially. “And by treat, I actually mean”—he leaned forward a bit as though he were telling them a secret and lowered his voice to a whisper—“ice cream.”
On cue, Sandra and Hank Belford, who owned a small ice cream shop in town, popped out from behind the bookshelves to Allen’s left. Both of them were wearing giant colorful ice cream cone costumes—where they’d managed to find them, Allen hadnoidea—and excited whispers and clapping and even a couple of barely contained squeals broke out around the room. Allen gave the kids a moment to express their excitement and then held up both hands, still smiling.
“Now, friends, listen carefully, okay? Our guests here today are going to read you a book. It’s a story calledIce Cream For Breakfast. Oh, my! Raise your hand if you’ve ever eaten ice cream for breakfast,” Allen said, pretending to hold back his smile for a moment as he lifted up his own hand. Several of the children laughed. “I hope you’ll love the story. It’s one of my favorites! And then, when they’re finished, we’ve got a fun activity for you to complete so you can earn a coupon for afreeice cream cone. Do you want to hear about the activity?”
All the children nodded, and Allen continued. “Excellent! Here’s what you’re going to have to do—and remember, your grown-up or any of the other grown-ups here at the library can help you if you need it! So...”
He loved watching all of their little faces light up as he explained the rest of the activity he had planned, which involved a scavenger hunt of sorts around the library. When he was finished, he re-introduced Sandra and Hank and then stepped off the makeshift “stage” to find his way to the other side of the room.
Greg had his tripod set up just off to one side, and he was snapping photos of the group, which he’d edit and offer free to all the attendees. He straightened up and grinned as Allen stopped next to him.
“Ice cream for breakfast, eh, darling?” Greg whispered.
“Once,” Allen answered, keeping his voice low. “My first day in the dorms at UDub. My only huge act of rebellion, you know. Chocolate and vanilla swirl in a waffle cone.”
There was a light laugh next to him. “After thirty-three years, I’m still learning things about you,” Greg said quietly, and whenAllen glanced at him again, he was back to his camera, the shutter going again as he took more photos.
The familiar fullness in his chest took Allen’s breath away, and he moved just a little closer to his husband, who reached out to take his hand with a gentle squeeze.
The next two hours passed uneventfully, and by the time the last of the attendees and volunteers had left, it was just after 4:00 p.m. Allen texted Greg to let him know he’d be home in about thirty minutes and then spent a little bit more time tidying up.
Just as he was pushing in the last chair, there was a loud, rough knock on the door. Startled, he turned around and was about to call out “One minute!” to whomever the late visitor was when a crash erupted near the front of the library. The sound of glass shattering and cascading to the ground was followed by two male voices shouting.
There was a sharp pain in Allen’s chest as his brain registered the words—a mix of profanities, threats, and homophobic slurs. His hand automatically flew to his pocket, and he pulled out his phone as he backed up toward the corner of the room. From his angle, he couldn’t see the men, and their voices didn’t seem to be coming any closer, but his heart raced, pounding hard in his chest.
Shaking and fighting an odd, panicky lightheadedness, he unlocked his phone and managed somehow to dial 9-1-1. He continued backing up until he was behind the bookshelves where Sandra and Hank had come out in their costumes earlier in the day, and he closed his eyes and held his breath. An operator answered after just one ring.
“9-1-1. What’s your emergency?”
“Hi, I-I’m at the North Bend Library, and—and—” Allen sunk down to the ground as another wave of lightheadedness rushed him, and his chest tightened painfully, forcing the air from his lungs.
“Sir, are you okay? Is there an emergency?”
He started to answer but then heard crunching glass near the front of the library.
“Allen? Holy shit, what happened here? Allen?!” Joe Walsh’s voice echoed through the room, and a few seconds later, Allen felt his neighbor’s hand on his shoulder. “Allen, are you okay? Holy shit.”
A haze clouded his vision, and he tried to nod—because he was okay, or at least he thought he was. But he didn’t know if Joe saw or not. The phone was taken from his hand, and he heard Joe’s voice again, maybe speaking with the 9-1-1 operator? He wasn’t sure. The next thing he knew, Joe was pulling him to his feet, firing questions at him, helping him over to a nearby chair so he could sit.
