“Are those the Christmas tablecloths?”
“Kashira’s idea,” Griffin said. “Anyhow, can you transfer Harvey from his wheelchair to that one without it being a big thing?”
“Sure.” One advantage of being big and strong was that, while I tried to be smart about my back and used lifts and assists, I could pick someone up for a horizontal transfer if I wanted to.
“Thanks.” Griffin looked around. “Oh, good, there’s Prescott’s bed in place. Let’s get going. If you go stand by the chair on the right, it’s party time.”
I followed Griffin to the end of the room and took my place by one of the thrones. Griffin pulled out the piano bench and sat. “Time to get this show on the road,” he said, not shouting but with enough volume that the conversations quieted. He set his fingers on the keyboard and played the opening notes of Mendelssohn’s classic march. The room went silent other than Mary over by the windows exclaiming, “I know this song. I know it.” Anita put an arm around her and she quieted.
Watching Griffin play piano in that tux was a treat, but I turned when I heard the residents stir.
Owen and Harvey wore matching suits, a couple of decades out of date and no longer perfectly fitted, but classy with slim lines. Owen had a new cane, black with a silver handle, in place of his walker, and Harvey had chosen to wear a white diaphanous cape that floated around his wheelchair. Two of the younger aides walked them down the aisle, one pushing Harvey, the other arm in arm with Owen. When they reached the chairs, Owen turned and lowered himself onto one crimson seat.
I went to Harvey. “Can I give you a boost?”
“Please.”
With the aide maneuvering the wheelchair, I scooped Harvey up and eased him into the throne beside Owen, taking time to make sure he was sitting with enough support. The aide bent past me to arrange the white cape in a drape and swirl at Harvey’s feet. Then we stepped back. The two men reached toward each other, holding hands as Griffin brought the music to a swirling conclusion.
He stood and moved behind the two men, standing in the gap between their chairs as he glanced around the room.
“Dearly beloved,” he said. “I wasn’t going to start this ceremony that way but then I thought, why not? That’s a tradition that goes a long way back, the words rooted in a right Owen and Harvey never thought they’d have. It resonates with us, doesn’t it? How many weddings have we seen, been in, that began that way? Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join these two men in marriage.
“Owen and Harvey met in 1976. For those of you whose math is no better than mine, that was forty-eight years ago. Things were different then. In over half the states in the union, two gay men could be arrested for what they did in the privacy of their own bedroom. But the heart wants what it wants. These two men saw each other and their hearts knew they had found their other half, the person who would be their rock when they needed one, their wings when there was a chance to fly.
“Owen would tell you they had fights, and Harvey would tell you Owen snores, but from that first meeting they never looked back. Forty-eight years. For better or for worse. For richer or for poorer. The eighties came along and loving a gay man in that era was like having a loaded gun pressed to your heart, but they made it through, together, grieving loss after loss along the way.Then the nineties, the turn of the century, more spins of the globe, aging and changes.
“In 2009, the first decade of a new century, Iowa joined an elite few states that said, ‘Love is love, let them have equality.’ Harvey and Owen saw friends jump at the chance to marry at last. They went to weddings of friends and relations. But between them, rings and vows seemed superfluous. They’d weathered so many storms, cried and laughed together, celebrated so many lifetime wins. What would a marriage certificate add?
“But here, in this year of yet more changes, two men with forty-eight years of love found out their relationship doesn’t mean enough to be allowed to live together without the official seal of approval. Sowhybecamewhy not? And that’s how we have this wedding before you now, celebrating Harvey and Owen.
“In a world that doesn’t always value love the way it should, they’re a shining example. Here are two people who said, ‘I choose this man, now and forever,’ and made it stick without the piece of paper, without the rules, for almost half a century. They’re going to say vows to each other now, and exchange rings. I’m going to pronounce them married. But really, that marriage was made forty-eight years ago, already shining and unbreakable, polished and forged into ever purer gold over time. All I am doing is making tangible a bond that has endured almost as long as I’ve been alive.
“Harvey, Owen, are you ready to exchange your vows?”
The two men had been gazing at each other while Griffin spoke. Now Harvey said, “Born ready.”
Owen chuckled. “I wasn’t robbing the cradle by that much.”
“You weren’t robbing the cradle at all.”
Owen shook his head, still smiling. “In 1976, I was at a party in a friend’s house. It was a mixed crowd, although queer-friendly, and I saw this gorgeous young man on the other side of the room. I figured he was straight, because that was how my luck had been running. And if not, he was way out of my league. I was pushing forty—”
“Not pushing that close,” Harvey murmured.
“Who’s telling this story? I was a dozen years older and quite a bit more battered and bent.”
“Battered made you interesting. And we were both bent.”
“Thank God, yeah.” Owen raised their clasped hands and kissed Harvey’s knuckles. “I was going to go home and stew in self-pity, but when I turned to go, there you were. You said, ‘Hey. Don’t be mad if I got it wrong, but do you want to dance?’ I couldn’t dance worth a damn, but the only possible answer was yes. I looked into your eyes and my fate was sealed. I love you, Harvey Williamson, and I’m still saying yes. Whatever you need, whatever you want, yes. Marriage, cake toppers, enough rainbows to drown a unicorn? Yes. I want to dance this dance with you forever. How about you?”
“I was at that party,” Harvey said. “I looked across the room and saw this guy who ticked all my boxes. He looked smart and confident and secure, and so fu— freaking hot. I told my best friend I wished I had the nerve to go talk to him. Robbie said, ‘Take your shot. Yeah, you might miss, but then again, you might win.’” Harvey raised their clasped hands. “This one’s for you, Robbie. Because I won so big. Forty-eight years and going for more. I finished that first dance with aching toes, because you’reright, you were a crappy dancer. But I also finished knowing I’d met someone very special.
“We’ve had our ups and downs, but from the moment you took my hand, I never wanted to let go. I still don’t. So it’s a yes from me too. Let’s ride this ride as far as it’ll take us, together.”
For a long moment of silence, Owen and Harvey looked into each other’s eyes.
Griffin cleared his throat. “Do you have the rings?”
