Beside Paul, Kyle raised a finger. “No, remember? They opened one in Virginia a little bit ago.”
“Write down your questions and bring them to the meeting.” Marcus rose to his feet with a stretch. “Right now I’m going to go snitch some ham from the Crock-Pot.”
“Oh no you aren’t,” Frankie admonished. He chased Marcus into the kitchen, laughing all the way.
The rest of them followed less hurriedly, ostensibly coming into the kitchen to help, but mostly lingering over the delicious smells. Frankie put them to work setting out condiments, filling water glasses, opening bottles of wine. Paul was charged with taking the dinner rolls out of the warming drawer and arranging them in a wicker basket lined with a dishtowel before carrying them to the table. When they all finally sat to eat, everyone fawned over Frankie, telling him how good it smelled, then how wonderful it tasted. Frankie beamed and said it was nothing, and Marcus puffed out his chest, a proud fiancé. Gabriel smiled over the edge of his wineglass, elbowing Arthur when he made a rude remark.
Kyle touched Paul’s arm whenever he said something to him, and under the table he ran his stocking feet beneath the cuff of Paul’s jeans.
Dessert was a hefty assortment of Jane Parks’s legendary Christmas cookies, which they all said they were too full to eat and yet decimated anyway. Nursing full bellies and happy hearts, they reconvened in the living room, where Arthur put on a Santa hat and passed out the presents. Gabriel gave everyone a book. Arthur gifted everyone with his favorite local beer, except for Kyle, whom he gave a liter bottle of locally made hard cider. Marcus and Frankie gave gifts together, assortments of things from people’s Amazon wish lists arranged in pretty baskets. Paul gave each person something he knew they loved: a cooler full of venison for Gabriel, a new tool cabinet for Arthur, a pretty ceramic teapot for Frankie, a duplicate of the heavy wrench he always borrowed for Marcus. An apron for Kyle covered with pinup lumberjacks.
The best gifts of all came from Kyle. He’d knit them each a pair of woolen socks, one of his knit/felt hats, mittens and neck warmers. He’d given everyone the colors they loved best too. Everyone declared how amazing they were, and they put on their socks then and there. Arthur donned
all
of it, and wore his knitwear the rest of the evening.
They played cards after that, and a few party games, laughing and teasing and in general having the time of their lives. It was a perfect, wonderful moment. It was everything Paul had always wanted: the three of them, Marcus, Arthur and Paul, settled and happy. Paul tried to admonish himself not to get too attached, because things could still unravel with Kyle. But it was hard to remember.
Especially when Kyle sighed, leaned into Paul, and said, “This was the best Christmas ever. Can we do it again next year?”
Eventually they had to go home. Kyle and Paul went to Paul’s house, where they kissed languidly on the couch for half an hour, smiling and touching each other’s faces, nuzzling noses and recalling their favorite parts of the evening. When they finally went to bed, the slow, sweet feeling remained. Kyle made love to Paul, but there was nothing rough or hard about it this time. He kissed Paul all over his body and sucked his cock with tenderness. He let Paul return the favor, but not for long. They tangled face-to-face, Paul on his back, legs wrapped around Kyle as he kissed Paul and pumped away inside him. Afterward, they spooned together beneath the comforter, listening to the sound of the snowplow clearing away a new round of snow.
“I love you.” Kyle kissed Paul’s ear, running fingers down the fur of his chest. “I do. I love you. I hope it’s not too soon to say that, but I do.”
Paul shut his eyes, letting the words wrap around him. Then he kissed Kyle’s hand and whispered back, his voice rumbly, “I love you too.”
For days, everything was wonderful. Paul worked hard with Arthur to finish construction on Winter Wonderland in-between jobs, and once they finished, they worked each day with Frankie and Marcus, filling in the stencil designs Kyle drew for them. They also helped Kyle make his snow sculptures, putting them on pallets and storing them in the old meat locker until it was time for them to be displayed on the big day.
The whole town was abuzz with excitement. The hardware store was over the moon with its uptick in business and gave everyone associated with Winter Wonderland a discount. The temporary shops were decorated and filled with things to buy and activities for the attendees to do. Someone had set up a coffee shop, complete with espresso maker and a blender for frappés. A bakery in Eveleth had signed on for a space in a long-defunct donut shop, and they made it clear if the big city developer got things going, they wanted to buy the space outright. Everyone in the grocery store, the library, the church narthex, the counter at the café and the bar at the muni could talk of nothing but how Logan was about to change for the better.
The day before the council meeting, Marcus’s friend the developer came into town, and one of Dale Davidson’s first stops was to Logan Repair.
Dale stood in the center of the shop, grinning, his big, burly body taking up a great deal of space and, to be honest, stirring more than a little appreciation in Paul. Dale was sandy-haired, polished and handsome as hell. He looked like a cross between the Brawny paper towel man and Chris Evans. But when he winked as he shook their hands, he was John Barrowman all the way.
“Great place you have here. Both the town and your shop.” Dale’s gaze lingered on Paul appreciatively, and he did the same to Arthur as he shook his hand. “I’ve heard a lot about both of you.”
“Same to you.” Arthur leaned on the workbench the way he did when he wanted to show off his package. “What can we do you for?”
“I’ve interviewed a lot of people around town already, and I’ve heard all kinds of ideas and plans.” Dale pulled out a stool and straddled it. “But as Marcus’s best friends, I want to hear yours, and hear what you think of mine, before we head over to the meeting.”
Paul and Arthur told their ideas, about the tourism and the Christmas village, about the cottages by the lake, about making the temporary shops on Main permanent ones. Dale nodded and took notes, then shared his own thoughts.
“I like how you’re thinking, and we’re on the same page, by and large. A long, slow, careful growth arc. The Christmas Town angle is a good one, though it has to be nurtured carefully. Probably have to start with a Christmas in July festival to go along with the one in December. Keep building slowly. Build smart.” Dale rubbed a meaty hand over his beard. “Everything depends on how this inaugural festival goes, and how the council receives my offer. But I have to tell you, what has me most excited is the six of you. I don’t want to spook the council by bringing it up too quickly, but—well.” He grinned, slightly sheepish with a dab of mischief. “To be frank, there’s a real market in drawing the LGBT community to Logan. Many of us are from small towns, and some of us can’t go home, even at Christmas. If it gets out that Christmas Town, Minnesota is gay-friendly? You could reopen the school everyone seems so attached to resurrecting. Possibly with some new residents making up same-sex families sending their kids there.”
The idea was shocking—but appealing. Paul had been imagining the new, improved Logan for a while now, but with this one speech from Dale, the fabric adjusted, and the couples wandering the streets weren’t all straight couples from the suburbs. There were some gay and lesbian and trans couples from the suburbs.
A small town, his
hometown
, an LGBT mecca. It seemed crazy.
It seemed like a miracle.
“That’s an awful lot of pie in the sky,” Arthur said, but Paul could hear his friend longed for the image too.
Dale nodded. “It’s not a sure bet, no. And as I said, I’m not bringing it up to the council. But it’s in the back of my mind.” He clapped his hands together and grinned. “All right. I have to head over to this library and meet Gabriel. Arthur, you want to tag along and introduce me?”
Paul ended up going along too. Gabriel liked Dale as much as Paul and Arthur did, and though they’d never seemed interested in inviting a third before, Paul half-wondered if Arthur and Gabriel wouldn’t end up inviting Dale to their cabin at some point during his stay for a little recreation. Kyle met Dale when they all went to Marcus and Frankie’s for dinner, and while he seemed to like Dale well enough, he bristled when Dale’s flirtations included Paul.
Pulling Kyle aside, Paul kissed him and smiled into his hair. “Don’t worry. He might be handsome, but I prefer toppy nurses.”
Laughing, Kyle kissed him back. And whispered an idea he had for role-play into Paul’s ear until he blushed.
It was another great evening, one that promised a weekend full of excitement, possibility and friendship. When Paul arrived to the council meeting the next day, he watched Dale interact with the city leaders and felt like nothing could possibly ever go wrong again.
And then Paul’s family, full of frowns and fury, stormed into the room.
Chapter Sixteen
Paul
hadn’t been to his parents’ house since Thanksgiving, partly because he was busy, partly because he didn’t want to go. It was easy to pretend they didn’t exist at all, except for those uncomfortable run-ins about town. He’d enjoyed the break from them, to be frank. But when his sister and mother came into the city council meeting flanked by ten of the most conservative members of Logan, hate and vengeance burning in their breast, Paul wished he’d kept tabs enough on his family to see the blow coming.
Sandy led the pack, lips pursed in a thin, tight line. “This meeting must stop immediately!”
The room buzzed with confusion and chaos, everyone looking at one another, trying to figure out what was going on. The mayor stood up, frowning at the interruption. “What’s going on here?”
Sandy was different than the last time Paul had encountered her, her fury pushing outward instead of pulling in. Like she’d stopped stewing in it and was using it as fuel instead. “We’re Concerned Citizens for Logan, and we’ve been investigating this
developer
. He isn’t who he says he is.” She aimed an angry finger at Dale. “He’s a
homosexual activist
.”
Horrified, Paul hunched over the table, cupping his hands around his nose and mouth. This wasn’t happening. This
wasn’t. Happening.
Except it was totally, absolutely happening.
A retired teacher who flew a Don’t Tread on Me flag above his garage sneered at Dale. “He’s on the board of
three
homosexual rights groups. He was part of that campaign where people drove around Minnesota with gay marriage propaganda on their cars. Three of his projects in the last year were developing LGBT crisis centers. He’s given interview after interview with press about how homosexuals should be able to go anywhere they want, how small towns need to be more accepting. He doesn’t want to rebuild Logan. He wants to make us more homo than we already are!”
The room was both bustling and uncomfortably awkward at once. Arthur and Marcus stood, speaking angrily at the intruders, and Gabriel used that tight, clipped voice he usually reserved for misbehaving children at story time. Frankie looked a little green, and Kyle kept quiet, digging his fingernails into the tabletop.
Paul continued to shrink into his seat, but he was keenly aware he sat in a line of six openly gay, partnered men. That Dale was gay too, and had admitted yes, he wanted to make Logan a gay-friendly destination. When he’d said as much in the shop, it had sounded innocent and wonderful and hopeful to Paul. Regurgitated and thrown down as an accusation from
Concerned Citizens for Logan,
it made him feel queasy and uncertain and sad.
“
Order!
” This wasn’t a city council meeting, and the mayor didn’t have a gavel, but he banged his palm on the table until the room rumbled to a reluctant quiet. He glared at Sandy and company. “I do
not
appreciate people coming in to a private gathering uninvited and shouting wild accusations. Mr. Davidson is a guest in our town, offering to help our city, though I can’t imagine why he would with this kind of dramatics being thrown in his face.” The Concerned Citizens tried to interrupt, but the mayor quelled them with a glare and a raised hand. He turned to Dale. “Mr. Davidson, I apologize.”
Dale had kept quiet during the outburst. He gave the mayor a curt nod, and didn’t give Sandy and company so much as a second glance as he spoke. “Not at all. This is an exploratory venture, my coming to the festival. If Logan decides it doesn’t want development, my company certainly can go elsewhere.”
“We don’t need
your
kind of development,” one of the protesters cried, and then chaos broke out again as Marcus, Arthur, the mayor and Corrina rose to shoo the Concerned Citizens out of the room.
Grim, weary, Gabriel turned to Dale. “May I apologize on behalf of my town. They’re not normally quite this agitated. I think what you’re experiencing is bottled-up backlash over the rest of us being so public.” He gestured to the four of them: himself, Frankie, Kyle and Paul. “LGBT people have been out in Logan for quite some time, though I suppose it’s only recently that we’ve been in relationships. I didn’t realize things had become this organized, but I’m fairly sure it will burn out soon enough.”
Dale didn’t smile as he gestured to the door. “I won’t lie to you. I don’t put up with that kind of nonsense lightly.”
Frankie had paled, hunching in his seat. “It’s never been like this, ever, in the two years I’ve lived in Logan. I’ve had a salon almost that entire time, and Marcus a law practice. It’s true we’ve seen our share of cold looks, but I got those occasionally in Minneapolis. This is entirely new.”
The mayor and the others returned, effusing apologies to Dale, assuring him this was a fringe element and such rude interruptions wouldn’t happen again. The meeting resumed, somewhat stilted now, but lurching steadily forward.
Paul, however, couldn’t bring himself to engage. All he could do was replay Sandy and his mother’s faces in his mind, hearing their accusatory words. It hurt that they would do this to him. To hurl those words at him—not exactly directly, but they didn’t mean to miss him, either. The stunt had embarrassed him in front of his friends and the city leaders. In front of Dale, who could do so many good things for Logan. It had hurt him both as Paul Jansen, their son and brother-in-law respectively, and as a gay man.
What burned in his gut, though, eating his insides like acid, was the knowledge that Gabriel had been wrong. This wasn’t about Gabriel and Frankie and Arthur and Marcus. Not for Sandy and Paul’s mother. This was about him. About Paul dating Kyle. About him not showing up to Sunday dinners to accept their abuse. His punishment for getting away was that they’d focused their bile on the town and gathered up anyone else who felt
the gays
were an acceptable scapegoat for the ills in their lives.
Paul knew, too, they wouldn’t stop. They might have already cost Logan Dale and the Christmas City project. They’d unquestionably stage something to ruin Winter Wonderland.
They would drive Kyle away from Paul, or make Paul utterly miserable and uncomfortable in their efforts to try.
Paul didn’t excuse himself from the meeting. He simply stood, grabbed his coat from the rack by the door, and left the building. He heard Arthur and Kyle calling after him, but he ignored them, hurrying into his truck and peeling away before they could reach him, not even bothering with his seat belt.
Kyle would be upset at being ignored like that, he knew, and justifiably so. He told himself he’d apologize later, though he couldn’t bear to think of talking to anyone right now.
He went home to his duplex, where the lights he’d hung with Kyle twinkled hopefully. Paul shut them off, locked the door and went to his room, barely bothering to kick his boots off before collapsing onto the bed.
He didn’t cry, but he sagged into the mattress, clinging to the numbness that kept those tears at bay, ignoring the buzz of his phone inside his pocket until it stopped and he was able to surrender to the black quiet inside his mind.
Kyle watched Paul pull out of the parking lot with his heart in his throat and Arthur’s hand firmly attached to his collar. “Let me go, dammit. I need to go to him.”
“Give him a minute, okay? That wasn’t easy for him to watch his family lead that nonsense.”
Kyle struggled out of Arthur’s grip. Paul’s mother and sister were with the other idiots on the other side of the parking lot, huddled together in conference, though a few of them watched Kyle and Arthur.
Setting his teeth, Kyle turned away. “I
know
that killed him. Why do you think I want to comfort him?”
“He’s all wounded bear right now. Give him a minute to lick his wounds.”
“I’m not going to stop him from licking his wounds. I want to
be there
while he does it.” Kyle folded his arms over his chest and set his jaw. “I want to punch the Jansens out. Yell at them. Swear a blue streak. Drown them in the lake.”
“Yeah, well, that’s
exactly
what they’re after. They crave a big scene, a showdown. They want to point to the crazy faggots and say, ‘See, look how unstable they are.’”
“We aren’t the ones bursting into meetings and spewing mean-spirited garbage.”
Kyle had shouted that, loud enough to get the attention of more of the group across the parking lot. Arthur stood between Kyle and them, a somewhat futile move as Kyle could see over the top of Arthur’s head by barely standing on his tiptoes. Arthur’s stern expression was enough to draw Kyle’s focus, though. “This isn’t the way, Kyle. I’m not telling you to smile and eat the shit. I’m saying you can fight back, but not here, not now.”
The fire in Kyle’s breast became a lump that made his voice waver when he replied, “They hurt Paul.”
“Yes. And believe me, I’m holding myself back as much as I am you. But they’ve hurt a lot of people right now. You. Me. Gabriel and Frankie and Marcus. My mom. Everyone in that room. The
whole town
, because Dale won’t take this lying down.”
Kyle was all too aware. “While you guys were outside, he flat-out said this kind of crap was a game-changer.”
“Exactly. With one outburst they turned him from engaged and eager to invest to seriously rethinking his position. And that was their whole goal. That and riling us up. They want to turn Winter Wonderland into a shit-storm, not a celebration. Don’t give them what they want.”
Kyle wanted to throw up. “I can’t believe they’d sandbag the whole town because we’re gay. I mean, I know Logan’s not perfect…” He couldn’t finish the thought. Because no, he’d never thought it was like this.
For the first time in his life, Kyle questioned his passion for insisting on living in Logan. Not for long. But he questioned it all the same.
Arthur led him inside, promising him they were all going over to Paul’s house as soon as the meeting was over. Kyle let himself be led, feeling slightly out of body and utterly unable to focus on something he was so eager to discuss such a short time ago. He couldn’t stop thinking about what the Concerned Citizens for Logan had said, with how much hate and cruelty they’d delivered their message.
As he drove over to Paul’s house with the others, he wondered what the protesters would try next. Dale had agreed to let the awkward incident slide, but the elephant in the room had been everyone knowing that wouldn’t be an aberration. The Concerned Citizens would unquestionably show up at the event itself and be embarrassing. Would they do more than that? Would they try to dissuade the business owners? Would they coordinate more scenes?
How could they be so willing to destroy all the good in the event? Why were six gay men such a threat?
How could Sandy and Mary do this to Paul?
At Paul’s duplex, Kyle had to use his key to let them in. Paul came out of his bedroom as they entered, looking wrecked but wooden. “I don’t want to be with anyone right now.”
“Tough.” Arthur spoke before Kyle could. “Get out here and let us comfort you. We know who was hurt most in that scene.”
Paul clearly wanted them to go, which made Kyle feel unsure of himself and how to behave. In that moment he was so glad for the presence of the others, for the way they shuffled him next to Paul on the couch, began caring for him as much as for Paul. Kyle wanted to put his arm around Paul, to reassure him, but to his shame he didn’t know how to react. What to say. What the hell
was
there to say? Kyle wanted to tell Paul his family was horrible, but that wasn’t news to him, and in any event, everything in Kyle had come unplugged and he was suddenly unsure of how to do that. He wanted to be a supportive boyfriend, but right now when Paul needed him most, Kyle had no idea how to behave. It was ridiculous. But the more he tried, the more he failed.
When he got up to go to the kitchen to try to get a grip on himself, Gabriel followed him and put a hand on his shoulder. “What’s going on? You’re a frayed nerve.”
“I don’t know what to say to him.” Kyle shoved his hands into his hair. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Be here for him. Love him.”
Gabriel was right, obviously. Kyle went back out into the living room, but he couldn’t get himself together, and he knew soon he would make it worse. It didn’t help anything that Paul gave him exactly nothing to work with. He didn’t lean into Kyle. Didn’t do anything but tense up when Kyle touched him. When Kyle tried to kiss Paul’s cheek and he recoiled, Kyle couldn’t take any more. He disappeared into the kitchen again, this time snagging his coat and boots on the way by.
This time Frankie followed him. “What’s going on? Why are you being so weird?”
Kyle had no idea. “I have to go. I’m making it worse, clearly.”
Frankie’s expression softened. “Oh, honey. You’re not. We told you, he gets funny about his family.”
“I know but I—can’t.” He hated that he couldn’t. But it didn’t make it any less true. Kyle shook his head, averting his gaze in shame. “I need to get out of here for a little while. I’m sorry.”
Frankie sighed. “Call me later, okay?”
Kyle nodded, accepted a hug and got the hell out of there.
He wiped tears away from his eyes as he drove home, but once he entered the kitchen and saw his family standing there, surprised to see him, Kyle burst into tears. That they dropped everything, circled the wagons and plunked him at the kitchen table and tried to soothe him only opened his wounds further. He relayed the story of what had happened at the meeting, which from the looks on his parents’ faces, they’d already heard about. He told them about Paul leaving, about the parking lot with Arthur, and then, sobbing so hard snot ran out of his nose, he confessed his utter failure to be there for Paul when he needed him most.
“I had to leave because I was only making it
worse
.” Kyle stopped to hiccup and blow his nose in the handkerchief his dad passed over, a soft blue bandana that smelled of diesel oil. “The others kept telling me to stay, but I wasn’t making him any better. He didn’t want me to touch him.” Kyle tossed the hanky away and buried his face in his hands. “It’s like they said all along. I’m too young for him. I’m not the right man for him. I’m not even truly a m-man.”