“Yeah.” Owen pressed a hand to Harvey’s shoulder. “There weren’t a lot of options, and Harvey’s family members were big trouble.”
“The God-hates brigade.” Harvey mouthed the words like they tasted bad. “Haven’t seen hide nor hair of them since, what, Christmas 1987? When my uncle showed up in New York to tell me I was going to die of the plague if I didn’t repent, but if I went straight and narrow, he’d let me work in his feed store back home. I told him my boyfriend could buy his feed store out from under his queer-hating ass.”
“Wasn’t true, sadly,” Owen said. “I never had that kind of money. But it was a good line.” He hesitated. “After that we decided we wanted some kind of legal security. Something really solid, not like when Jack’s mother convinced the hospital her relationship overrode Toby’s power of attorney and they let her bring in her priest and make decisions for Jack. Catholic hospital, that was.”
“Yeah. People were all judgy about‘Just have the right paperwork’but there were some haters working hospital admin and law offices too.” Harvey glared off into space.
Owen paused a moment, then said, “So what we did was an adult adoption. Harvey’s legally my son.”
“Ah,” I hadn’t heard of such a thing, and I could see where that would make life complicated now.
Harvey mused, “Had to find the right judge. Lots of them refused to do it back in the day. ’Course, they suspected we weren’t planning any normal father-son relationship. But there were a couple of judges in New York who would formalize adult adoptions, maybe queer or just allies, we never asked. And one of the benefits was that, when an adult is adopted, it cuts theirlegal ties with their birth parents. The moment Owen and I signed on the dotted line, my mother and her church lost all their claim on me, even if I was ever too out of it to reject them in person.”
“It was a last-ditch option,” Owen said. “But you know, hospital visitation and end-of-life decisions are something a father and son can legitimately do for each other.”
Harvey noted, “Except, as iron-clad as that made our rights, it also meant every day, we were technically committing—”
Owen touched Harvey’s lips. “Don’t say it.” He smiled wryly. “And it wasn’teveryday. You wish.”
“Close enough. Those were good times.” They shared a warm look.
Owen continued, “So we got strong protection of our rights to be a family when we needed that safety most, but it’s really hard to annul an adoption. Now, to get married, we’d have to say there’s no legal impediment. I’m not quite ready to commit to that lie.”
Harvey added, “And we don’t want anyone checking our paperwork. Not till one of us is dead. No pearl-clutching.”
“Yeah,” I said. “That would complicate things. Management might actually budge for a real father and son, but they would definitely clutch pearls over the two of you. Maybe worse. There’s a resident morality clause that includes illegal sex acts.”
“You’ll keep our secret?” Owen asked.
“Yes, of course.” I sighed. “I’ll keep you at the top of the list next time rooms get shuffled, but I can’t promise anything.”
“That’s okay. Or as okay as it can be.” Owen patted Harvey’s leg. “At least we’re able to be together every day. And at our age, a bed’s mostly for sleeping anyhow.”
“Speak for yourself,” Harvey murmured.
“I saidmostly.” Owen leaned in and kissed him.
I pushed myself upright. “Anything I can do for you two right now? Do warm packs help those cramps, Harvey?”
“I’m okay as long as I lie still, give my back a chance to stop acting up.”
“Leave the door open as you go,” Owen requested. “That man of yours still has a decent voice. A little rougher than he used to be, but awesome control.”
“I’ll tell Griffin you said so. But he’s not mine.”
“Could be, if you wanted him.”
I didn’t say“I don’t”because I was beginning to think that was a lie. Butwantingdidn’t matter whenkeepingwas a pipe dream. When I opened the door, the sounds of “Mein Herr” fromCabaret, an octave lower than Liza Minelli sang it,floated down the hall.
“Got quite a range, too,” Harvey said. “You know, there’s advantages to a man with great breath control.”
With a wave behind me, I slipped out of the room. Yeah, Griffin sounded awesome but the lines about needing open air and being just an affair slipped a knife into a tender spot. Griffin was no ingénue fucking his way across Europe, but he was a travelling man. I’d do well to remember that.
So even though his voice beckoned me toward the lounge, I turned the other way and headed for my office. There was always more work to do.
Chapter 9
Griffin
