’Til Death Do Us Part

A Naptown Tale in Seven Parts
by Altimexis

Part Two
Boston Cream Pie — David

“God, that’s the fifth cockroach I’ve seen in this place,” Kurt said as the realtor tried to talk us into buying the house she was showing us. We’d been looking at houses for the past five days and getting nowhere. I came to Boston thinking house shopping would be fun, but even knowing how expensive real estate was here, I wasn’t prepared for just how expensive it really was and how little we could get for our money. We could have had a mansion back home for what we’d pay for a tiny shack in Boston.

When we told our parents about our plans to rent a small apartment together, Jeremy’s father convinced us that it would be better to buy than to rent. If we were only staying three or four years, we could literally lose our shirts in the housing market, but there was an excellent chance Jeremy and I would go on to law school at Harvard — at least we hoped we’d be accepted — and Trevor intended to get his Ph.D. in Computer Science at MIT, too. After getting his undergraduate degree in Sociology at Boston University, Kurt intended to enter seminary and go for his Doctor of Divinity at BU’s School of Theology, which even has a student organization called Sacred Worth, dedicated to LGBT seminarians and those committed to full equality. We would, thus, be in Boston for at least the next seven or eight years and, hence, it would clearly pay to buy rather than rent.

Boston rents were equally astronomical, and we’d undoubtedly end up spending twenty-five hundred or three thousand a month for a decent two-bedroom place in proximity to our schools. Although the monthly mortgage payment, insurance, taxes and fees on a place we could afford would likely be somewhere around four or five grand a month, much of that would be tax deductible. Rather than throwing money away on rent, we could be building equity. Further, now was an excellent time to buy. Mortgage rates were at their lowest point in decades, and prices were relatively stable, poised for a serious jump as the economy rebounded.

The plan was that our parents would buy a place for us and gradually turn over equity in the place to us, so that we would all own a portion of the house when we finished our studies in seven or eight years. Doing it this way would incur the lowest possible tax burden. Jer's parents and Trevor’s, who had the most money, would each put down a quarter million on the place, and my parents and Kurt’s mom, who didn’t have all that much money, would make mortgage payments on the remainder, up to a maximum of another quarter mil, combined. When we finished school, we could then either sell the place and use the equity to buy our next home, or we could rent it out.

The trouble was, whereas we would have been satisfied renting a two bedroom apartment, if we were gonna buy a house, we figured we should have at least three bedrooms so we could have a place to study and spread out a bit. But it turned out that $750 thousand wasn’t going to go all that far in Boston. Indeed, as we were quickly discovering, even a two-bedroom bungalow that was scarcely larger than a thousand square feet and needed a lot of work cost over a half a million. Although there were some three bedroom houses for under $750k such as the place we were looking at now, they were tiny and in crappy condition.

We could have done better if we lived way out in the suburbs, but then we’d all have to commute. We only had two cars for the four of us, and Kurt didn’t even drive. He gave up his opportunity to take Driver’s Ed last summer in order to page in the Senate, and would undoubtedly have to go to a private driving school if he ever did want to get his license. On top of that, parking on campus was limited and very expensive. Commuting really wasn’t an option except by public transit, but hour-long commutes each way every day would have seriously cut into our personal time.

The good news was that all three of our universities are within walking distance of each other. Boston University might be on the other side of the Charles River, in Boston itself, but it’s just across the river from Cambridge, which is where Harvard and MIT are located. With a little luck, we hoped we could find something centrally located to all three campuses. If worse came to worst, we could all ride our bikes to school, but in winter weather it would definitely be better to be closer. Unfortunately, most of the houses we could afford were not near our schools, and so riding our bikes or taking a bus would be mandatory.

Sighing loudly, Jeremy asked the realtor, “You said you thought you could find us something nicer in a condo?”

“You’d definitely have a lot more selection,” she answered, “and I could probably find something closer to your schools.”

“Perhaps it would be better to get a condo,” Jeremy argued. “We might not have as much space, but we could get something a lot nicer for the money and in a better location. It would mean paying a monthly maintenance fee, but we wouldn’t have to worry about major repairs or other expenses, and we wouldn’t have to cut the grass or shovel the driveway like we would if we lived in a house,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, and your taxes would likely be lower, so you might actually come out ahead in terms of your overall monthly cost,” the realtor pointed out.

“I think my boyfriend’s right,” I agreed. “We’re obviously not going to find something we like in the way of a single family house, or if we do, we’ll spend all our time fixing it up.”

“So shall we look at condos?” Trevor asked.

“Why not?” his boyfriend agreed.

“I actually have something I think you might like,” our realtor said. “It’s a three bedroom, two bathroom unit on the fourth floor of a fifty-year-old mid-rise building on Harvard Street. It has over seventeen hundred square feet and it’s really a lovely unit. It’s perfect for the four of you, and it’s an easy twenty minute walk from all three campuses.”

“Well, it does sound ideal,” I said. “The thing that worries me is parking. Most of the houses we’ve looked at have at least a driveway if not a garage, or they have decent on-street parking. Although we don’t intend to commute, we’d really like to bring our cars with us.”

“Just keep in mind that auto insurance rates in Boston are unbelievable, particularly for unmarried males under twenty-five like yourselves.”

“We’ll be getting married before we move here,” I pointed out.

The realtor stared at me as if I’d grown an extra head, and then she said, “I thought you guys were all gay.”

“We are,” Trevor answered, but we’re getting married next month — to each other, that is. I don’t want there to be any question as to the legality of living with my underage cutie, and getting married is the best way to insure that we’re legal,” he continued as he brought Kurt into a half-hug. “Besides which, I love my guy to pieces and want to be with him forever.”

Drawing Jeremy into a half-hug myself, I added, “And we’ve been together for three years. It’s high time I make an honest man of my boyfriend.”

“That’s really sweet,” she responded “and congratulations.

“Anyway, getting back to your question about parking, I see from my info that the apartment comes with a one car garage and a space in a carport.”

“That sounds great,” Jeremy said. “The question is, what’s the asking price?”

“Seven ninety-nine, even,” she answered.

Nodding his head, Jeremy said, “That might work, even with the monthly condo fee, if we can get the price down closer to seven hundred.”

“There’s a fairly good chance the sellers will go for that, or if not, no more than seven fifty,” the realtor stated. Whipping out her cell phone, she continued, “Let me see if I can schedule an appointment for you to see it.”

After hanging up her phone, she told us, “We’re all set for ten o’clock tomorrow. Why don’t I drop you back at your hotel, and in the meantime, I’ll try to line up some other condos for you to see.”

Our ‘hotel’ was actually a youth hostel, but it served the purpose for the three weeks we had available to find a place and to buy some stuff to furnish it. That night at dinner, we all talked about the afternoon’s developments.

“I really hope that condo she talked about is the one,” Jeremy started. “I’m getting fucking tired of all this house hunting.”

“Me too,” I agreed, “but I have a feeling if this isn’t the one, there’ll be something we like in the same area. We might just have to settle for a two bedroom, but I have a good feeling that tomorrow will be the day we find our new home.”

“What if the sellers won’t drop the price low enough?” Kurt asked.

“It’s very likely we can get the price down to seven fifty,” Trevor suggested, “and then perhaps we could all get jobs to pay the monthly maintenance.”

“I’m sure if we can get the price down to that,” Jeremy countered, “our parents will come up with the extra cash. They aren’t gonna quibble over a few hundred dollars, particularly in the grand scheme of things. Our tuition alone is gonna cost them close to half a million by the time we finish professional and graduate school.”

“More like three fifty or four hundred thousand,” I agreed, but Jer’s right, the maintenance won’t be all that much compared to our overall expenses. Anyway, let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.”

The next day, we all fell in love with the condo on Harvard Street. It really was perfect. We went to see several other places, but that one was by far our favorite. That afternoon, Jeremy called his dad and had the realtor fax all the information to him. According to Jeremy, his father didn’t seem the least bit fazed when told the asking price and the monthly maintenance fee. Mr. Kimball sent an attorney from the Boston branch of the firm that represents him out to see the place that afternoon, and an engineer inspected it that evening, even before we made an offer. By the time the sun set, the sellers had a certified check for $250k in their hands and had agreed to our offer of $700k, plus they would pay all the closing costs. Putting thirty-five percent down is what cinched the deal. The closing would be a week after we got back from Europe.

With a place to call home, our attention next turned to furnishing it. We’d be bringing some things from home, such as our bedroom TVs, but our parents wanted us to leave most of our furniture behind. That meant buying everything else we would need, down to our dishes, pots and pans. Some things we’d undoubtedly get as wedding presents, and we’d even set up a “bridal” registry at one of the local department stores, but we would definitely need to purchase our furniture. Our parents were all pitching in and had given us a budget, but it was a limited budget and so if we wanted new stuff, we’d have to do most of our shopping at IKEA.

It took the better part of another week, but we managed to buy just about everything we’d need to furnish our condo, and arranged for delivery on the day of the closing. We were going to have fun assembling everything and getting the place ready to use before the semester began, just a little over a week after we returned. It was a good thing we’d already boxed up the things we’d be bringing with us from home, as we’d never have had time to do so after the honeymoon.

With less than a week to go before the wedding, we set about arranging for all the other miscellaneous things we would need for our future. We set up joint bank accounts locally, and arranged to transfer our auto insurance. Our realtor had been right — the rates in Boston were astronomical, but at least they’d be going down a bit after we got married. At least we had that — in states that had yet to legalize gay marriage, gay people were forced to pay single rates all their lives. This was a perfect example of why civil unions were not enough.

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We all started to get extremely nervous as the Fourth of July weekend approached. Jeremy and I had really wanted a simple wedding, and so had Trevor and Kurt. Truthfully, we’d have been happier to have just invited our immediate families and closest friends. None of us was one to show off, and Jeremy was particularly self-conscious when it came to his family’s wealth.

Unfortunately, once our parents became involved, the wedding took on a life of its own. Jeremy’s dad had a long list of business clients that had to be invited, and Trevor’s parents had their own, smaller list. Add to that several prominent politicians who managed to invite themselves, and our dream of having a small wedding had died on the vine.

At first I was confused why politicians who were on record as being ardent foes of same-sex marriage would want to attend such a high-profile gay wedding. Being the idealist that I am, I felt like uninviting them. However as Jer’s dad explained it, these politicians needed an appearance of being accepting of their gay constituents, while they paid lip service to conservative causes. Having the ear of one Republican in office was better than those of ten Democrats in waiting, as Jer’s dad put it.

The wedding was being held in a place called the Nine Zero Hotel, located on Beacon Hill. The hotel touts itself as being one of the top five hundred hotels in the world, which probably explained why they were charging so much for a room! We’d booked the entire hotel for the weekend — all 190 rooms — and we’d have it filled to capacity. I think the Kimballs and the Austins were spending as much on the wedding as they were on the condo! It was obscene but, sadly, it was their show — not ours.

Our wedding was going to make Randy and Altaf’s look like a small affair. Somehow, it had become the event of the summer. So many people were flying in from back home that we had to charter two 767s, one of which would fly in on Friday evening and the other on Saturday. On top of that, the news media had somehow gotten wind of our double wedding and were poised to descend on us in force.

Our wedding, however, was definitely not open to the public, and the last thing we wanted was for it to turn into a media circus. We might be famous, having been featured on the front page of the Star more than a dozen times, and we may have gained national attention, thanks to Kurt’s Congressional Gold Medal and to the unfounded prostitution scandal of last summer.

We had to place limits on the access granted to the press. What they might do off-site was up to them, but we were only allowing a few representatives of the media inside the wedding and other events.

Because of all the wonderful, sensitive and positive publicity we’d gotten in the Star from his reporting, we invited Harold Warren and his photographer to serve as the sole representatives of the written press. Harold had done so much for us over the last three years, from doing two articles on the gay youth of the city’s north side, to sitting for nearly two years on the potentially career-altering story of Lyle Herndon’s being gay until he was ready to come out, to helping Kurt prove Trevor’s innocence in the camp incident that nearly got Kurt and Sam killed. Harold was an honorable man and a true friend, and he deserved to get the scoop on our wedding.

Likewise, the staff of NBC’s Today Show and, in particular, Meredith Vieira, had been nearly the lone beacon of reason during the whole prostitution scandal. While everyone else was sensationalizing the story and milking it for what it was worth, with the exception of Jim Lehrer of PBS, they alone stuck to the facts, and were fair in their reporting. Perhaps it was because Kurt and Trevor granted them an interview when the scandal broke, but regardless of the reason, we decided to grant Ms. Vieira and her crew exclusive video access to the ceremony and associated events. All we asked in return from her and Mr. Warren was for professional copies of all video and photos shot during the festivities, saving us from the need to hire our own videographer and photographer.

Because the holiday fell on Sunday, making Monday a day off for most people, we decided to hold the rehearsal dinner on Saturday night and the wedding itself Sunday afternoon. Fourth of July fireworks, scheduled for Sunday evening, would be visible from the huge windows that adorned the hall where the reception was to be held. We chartered a 747, which had roughly the same capacity as the two 767s, to take people home on Monday. The thought that we’d invited enough guests to fill an entire 747 was beyond scary.

We, along with our immediate family, checked into the hotel on Thursday night, as there would be an endless procession of things to do in advance of the other guests’ arrivals. The four of us were sharing a huge suite with two bedrooms and two elegant bathrooms, each with a huge Jacuzzi. There were floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, and everything was new and modern. We were gonna have a fuckin’ awesome time, literally!

“I can’t believe this place,” Jeremy said as he came up behind me while I was looking out one of the huge windows at the Boston skyline. He snuck an arm around my waist and snuggled up with me as he, too, took in the scene before us.

“It’s fucking magnificent, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Unbelievable!” I replied as I slid my arm around him, too, and pulled him even closer. As I turned to look at my honey, I noticed that Trevor and Kurt were staring out the other set of windows. Together, the windows formed two entire sides of the living room. The effect was magical — it was as if we were suspended in mid-air over the city.

The love I felt in my heart swelled to astronomical proportions. I was with the boy — no, the man I loved, and we were with our very best friends. How could anyone be so lucky to have such a wonderful soul mate like Jeremy and such fantastic friends like Trevor and Kurt?

Slowly, our faces came together as the city of Boston disappeared from my consciousness. Lips covered lips, tongues danced with tongues and our members became so stiff as to become painful, begging for release. I ran my fingers through Jeremy’s silky hair as we continued to make out. I absolutely loved his long, golden strands. Jeremy moaned when I caressed his ass, bringing our pelvises closer together. We were on fire.

It was at that moment that the phone rang.

“Fuck!” Jeremy said as we separated.

Trevor was the first to reach the phone, and so he answered it, then nodded his head a few times and said, “Yeah, we won’t forget. See you then,” and hung up. “That was Tom Kimball,” he related to us. “He just wanted to be sure we remembered that we have a dinner reservation at seven.”

Looking at my watch, I said, “Shit, that’s just over a half-hour from now, which is barely enough time for us to shower and get dressed.”

Smiling at me, Jeremy said, “We’ll get back to this later.” He then tugged on my hand and said, “Come on, let’s get ready.”

There was a lot I wanted to do while we were in the shower together, but there just wasn’t time. We quickly washed each other, I shaved, we brushed our teeth and we got dressed. Trevor and Kurt met us in the living room and we went down together to the restaurant.

Waiting for us when we arrived were all our parents — all except Kurt’s father, that is. I knew Kurt had tried to invite his father to the wedding in spite of their past differences. If this were a fairytale, Kurt’s dad would have swallowed his pride in order to attend his youngest son’s wedding, but this wasn’t a fairytale — it was real life, and real life doesn’t always have a happy ending. Perhaps someday Sanford DeWitt would come around, but for now he was missing out on getting to know one of the finest people I’d ever met. Kurt’s special, and it’s a shame his father just couldn’t move beyond his homophobia.

Also seated at the large table were Kurt’s two brothers, Jeff and Ben, my brother, Brad, Trevor’s adopted brother, Sam, and Jeremy’s foster brother, Cliff, who had recovered fully from his recent bout with AIDS. In total there were sixteen of us seated at a long table. It’s funny how we ended up seating ourselves, but Jeremy and I ended up sitting in the middle of the table on one side, with Kurt and Trevor directly opposite us, and all four of us sat next to our own brothers. Our parents sat at the ends of the table. It was funny, but none of us had a sister. I wondered what the odds of that were. Well, actually, it was an easy calculation — I could do it in my head. Neglecting Sam and Cliff, who weren’t born to their families, the odds of all 4 natural siblings all being boys were only one in sixteen.

And then I remembered that Jeremy did actually have a sister as well as a natural brother, but they were much older than him and seldom visited. In fact, I’d only met them once. They wouldn’t be coming in until Saturday.

Looking across my fiancé at his foster brother, I asked, “How are you doing, Cliff?”

“Much better, David, and thanks for asking,” he replied. “My viral load’s down, and my CD4 count’s over 250. If this holds up, I’ll be able to join you guys in Europe.”

“That’s great news, Cliff. Thank God!” I exclaimed.

“It’s the best news in the world,” Jer agreed as he gave his brother a half-hug from the side.

“This prolly won’t change the outcome any,” Cliff stated flatly, “but at least maybe I’ll have some quality time before I die.”

“God, I don’t even want to think about you not making it,” Trevor said from across the way.

“And you can imagine how I feel,” my own brother added from next to me. “I don’t want to lose my best friend.”

“Hoping it ain’t so, won’t change anything,” Cliff countered. “I know I’m going to die, I’ve accepted it, and I’m comfortable with it. The Kimballs have finally started the process for my adoption and I’m truly grateful for that. I’m not sure if there’s an afterlife, but if there is, I’ll be reunited with my biological parents. That’s the one thing that makes dying seem not so bad. That, and that I’m at peace with God.”

“It may not change anything, but hope springs eternal, as they say,” Kurt responded. “Hope nourishes the human spirit. As long as we have hope, we can survive. Let us hope and pray that you’ll be with us for a long time, Cliff. You mustn’t give up until God comes knocking at your door.” Wow, that was so fucking incredibly well put. It was hard to believe that Kurt was only sixteen. He was wise beyond his years.

“So, are you nervous, bro?” Ben DeWitt asked his brother.

“I’m petrified, actually,” Kurt answered. “Not that I have any doubts about marrying Trevor. Trev’s the best thing that ever happened to me. Marrying him is a dream come true. But there’ll be so many people at the wedding. And we’re gonna be in the paper and on the news. I’m so afraid I’ll slip up and do something stupid.”

“You guys’ll do fine,” Brad stated with confidence. “You’re awesome — Besides, everyone knows how nervous you’ll all be. You could blow snot out your ears and no one would pay attention.”

“That’s so gross,” I said. “Only you would think of something like that, bro.”

“Hey, I’m still your bratty little brother and, after all, just saying what I’m supposed to.”

“You’re no brat, Brad. You’re a best friend, and don’t ever forget it,” I replied as I gave him a half-hug.

“I’ll second that,” Cliff added.

Trevor interjected, “We just need to keep in mind that this is only a ceremony for friends and family to recognize our unions, which as far as I’m concerned have already been recognized by God. It’s all a lot of hoopla, but in the Lord’s eyes, we’re already married.”

“That’s beautiful, Trevor,” Jeremy replied. “I’ll try to keep that in mind when my knees are shaking,” he added, causing us all to laugh.

We spent the rest of dinner talking about the plans for the weekend, starting with an interview with Meredith Vieira the following morning, followed by one with Harold Warren from The Star. In the afternoon, there would be a formal photo shoot to complement the article Mr. Warren would be writing, and to provide memories for us all. We’d have a little free time in the evening, but then we had to be at Logan Airport by seven to greet the first planeload of friends and family arriving from home.

On Saturday, we’d arranged for a couple of tour buses to take our guests around to see the historic sights of Boston — one in the morning and one in the afternoon. Since we had to be back at the airport mid-morning to meet the second planeload of passengers, we couldn’t really go on either tour, even though we might have liked to. After all, we had yet to see the sights of Boston ourselves, but then again, we’d have the next seven or eight years of our lives to do that on our own. No, with so many of our friends and family members coming in from out of town, we’d prolly have virtually no time to ourselves until after the wedding.

Dinner was amazing, but I was sure glad when it was over. I desperately wanted to get back to what Jer and I had been doing before we got the call from his father. Indeed, no sooner had we gotten inside the door to our suite than we were engaged in a passionate kiss.

“Get a room, you two,” Trevor kidded just before he covered Kurt’s mouth with his own.

“Sounds like a plan,” Jeremy said as he grabbed me by the hand and pulled me toward our bedroom.

No sooner was the door to our room closed than we were locked in a passionate embrace, kissing, licking and nibbling on just about any and every exposed area of flesh we could get to.

“What do you say we lose these clothes and check out the Jacuzzi?” I suggested when we came up for air.

“Mmmm — I like the way you think,” Jeremy agreed and we both proceeded to undress each other.

I started the water and as we waited for it to fill, we resumed feasting on each other. Jeremy had the sexiest body, and I loved every bit of it — his smooth chest, his erect, light brown nipples, his cute innie of a belly button, the firm mounds of his ass cheeks, his delicate pink pucker, his slender fingers and toes, and of course the most perfect tool ever, sitting atop his low-hanging balls. I loved him sooo much, and the sight and feel of him was arousing me beyond belief. He was all mine — my fiancé, soon to be my husband.

Once the Jacuzzi was full, I turned it on and we lowered ourselves into it, sitting opposite each other in the spacious basin. Snuggling up to my baby, I put my hand on his thigh and lightly stroked upwards, and then caressed and kneaded his balls while my tongue danced with his inside his mouth. Pushing my hand further between my lover’s thighs, I grazed his pucker, causing him to open his mouth and moan aloud, even as my tongue continued to play with his. Slowly, I pushed my index finger inside, and then added my middle finger as well. I could feel his ring spasming around my fingers as his moaning grew in its intensity. There was no need to loosen him up — we’d been sexually active for nearly three years now, and except for last summer when we lived in a residence hall while interning at the White House and weren’t allowed to have sex, we always managed to be intimate at least every day or two.

Jeremy was a total bottom, and although I enjoyed bottoming for him every now and then, no one could bottom the way he could — not that I had any experience with anyone else, but I just couldn’t imagine it being any better than it was with Jeremy. I don’t know how he did what he did, but the way he gyrated his pelvis and the way he clamped down with his sphincter sent me to a realm I’d have never dreamed was possible.

As we sat in the Jacuzzi, surrounded by the stimulation of the water jets and fondling and kissing each other, my senses were on overdrive. When I started to stroke Jeremy’s prostate with my fingers, his whole body shuddered as he let out a load moan. For a moment, I thought I’d sent him over the edge, but the water was still clear.

“I want you in me now, Davey,” Jeremy begged me. “I need you in me now!” There would be time for more leisurely lovemaking later, but for the moment, we were on fire and only one thing was going to quench the flames.

Ordinarily we’d use condoms for anal sex, more for hygienic reasons than anything, but they tended to do little more than get in the way when we made love in the water. Besides which, neither of us had had sex with anyone else, ever. We were totally committed to each other and, between the love and the phenomenal sex we shared, there never was a reason to look any further. Jeremy was the one for me, and when we said, ‘I do’ in a couple of days, I knew that no one else in the world could mean it more than we did.

Lifting Jer’s legs over my shoulders and lining myself up, I gently, but assuredly and unhesitatingly, entered him. Our coupling was almost a religious act as we shared passion and pleasure I didn’t think could be experienced on earth.

We made love three more times that night before we finally drifted off to sleep on our king-size bed. We got our wakeup call only three hours after we finally went to sleep. I knew I’d be dragging a bit the rest of the weekend, but it was worth it.

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We got a surprise in the morning when there was a loud knock at the door to the suite. We hadn’t even gotten in the shower yet — it was fucking early! Throwing on a pair of board shorts, I was greeted in the living room by Trevor, who was similarly attired. Trev checked the peephole and said, “Oh wow!” opening the door to reveal two room service attendants and a pair of tables on wheels, covered with fine linens and an array of covered dishes.

One of the attendants announced, “Complements of Mr. Thomas Kimball and Dr. Cynthia Roth.” They then proceeded to set everything up for us as Jeremy and Kurt came out to meet us in their boxers. “It’s from your parents,” I told Jeremy when I saw him.

“This is nice,” Kurt said. “Here I thought we’d have to grab a quick bite on the way to the studio, and it looks like now we’ll be able to enjoy a real breakfast.”

When they finished setting things up, the first attendant said, “Enjoy your meal, gentlemen, and don’t worry about a gratuity — Mr. Kimball included a very generous one when he placed the order.”

“Thanks very much,” I said as they left.

“This is fantastic,” Jeremy said as he sat down. “Leave it to my folks to think of this.”

“We’ll have to thank them for it when we see them,” I said. “It’s really a wonderful touch.”

“Is there any coffee on one of those tables?” Kurt asked. “I really need it,” he stated with a giggle.

“Us too,” I agreed.

“Looks like there’s a full pot on both tables,” Jeremy noted.

“Perfect,” Kurt replied as he proceeded to pour a cup, to which he added a little cream and sugar.

“Everything smells wonderful,” I stated as I removed the cover on one of the plates to reveal what looked like a vegetarian omelet and hash browns. Under another plate was some challah French toast, heaped with strawberries. On each table was also a basket filled with an assortment of bagels, and on a raised, covered plate in the center of each table was a platter of smoked whitefish and lox with capers, as well as whipped cream cheese. This was a feast! Of course, being the hungry teenagers we were, we had no trouble finishing it all off.

After showering together, spending perhaps a bit more time in the shower than was necessary, Jeremy and I shaved, brushed our teeth and got dressed. When we got downstairs along with Trevor and Kurt, a limo was already waiting for us, ready to take us to the local NBC studio where our television interview was to be conducted.

When we arrived, there was a whole procedure to go through in getting ready for the interview, but we’d been through it all before when we were interviewed on The Today Show over the Winter Break. In fact, it was during that interview that Jeremy and I announced our intention to get married in a double ceremony with Trevor and Kurt. Before then, we’d always planned to wait another year, until we were both eighteen and legally adults.

It was never a matter of if but rather when we would get married. Trevor and Kurt were right — there would never be a time when we were more ready to marry than we were right now. Living on our own and going to college, it only made sense that we should marry this year, even though we were still only seventeen. Our parents were more than happy to sign our marriage certificates — my ’rents love Jeremy, and for some reason, Jeremy’s love me.

Once we’d gone through security and presented the release forms that our parents had signed — all except for Trevor, that is, since he’s eighteen and could sign for himself — we were taken to makeup and were prepped for the interview. Finally, we were led out into the studio and seated on a lounge-like set, with two angled love seats, flanking a lounge chair. Naturally, Jeremy and I took one love seat and Trevor and Kurt took the other. Soon, Meredith Vieira joined us on the set. I was surprised that she was interviewing us in person.

“And so we meet again,” she said as we rose, each of us shaking her hand.

“Hopefully, this’ll be the last time,” I said with a laugh when it was my turn.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she replied. “Something tells me we’re going to be hearing a lot from all of you in the future — especially you, Mr. Reynolds.”

Down deep, I knew she was right. I had a sneaking suspicion I’d be spending much of my life in front of TV cameras. I couldn’t help but remember when it all began, back when I ran for Sophomore Class President. My entry into the election as an openly gay teenager had stirred up quite a bit of controversy and, once the press got hold of the story, there were demonstrators marching in front of the school and counter-demonstrators across the street.

Even though I was only fourteen at the time, I took the bull by the horns, marched right up to one of the news reporters and held an impromptu press conference, right in front of all the TV cameras. I single-handedly showed them all that my campaign was all about the issues, and not the fact that I was gay.

The truth of the matter was that I loved it. For all his exposure to power and money growing up, Jeremy was much more shy and reserved — the reluctant warrior. I, on the other hand, thrived on publicity. Together, we were quite a team. We had a certain synergy. Together, we were greater than the sum of our parts.

As if she were reading my thoughts, Ms. Vieira continued, “You guys are getting to be seasoned pros, now. This should be old hat to you.”

“It still doesn’t keep me from getting butterflies in my stomach,” Kurt responded.

“In time it gets easier,” she commented, “but for those with severe stage fright, the industry standard of a low-dose beta blocker does wonders. From what I’ve seen, however, you guys don’t even come close to needing medication. You’re naturals in front of the camera.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Trevor said, “Thanks for saying so.”

As we chatted with our host, we barely noticed the rest of the crew setting up for the interview until we heard someone shout out, “Thirty seconds, everyone.”

That sure seemed strange. Was there some sort of time constraint for the interview? Did Ms. Vieira need to be somewhere else afterwards?

“And we’re on in five… four… three… two… one!” he continued. Just as he reached ‘one’, it dawned on me that we were live! We were being interviewed live on the Today Show. I’d naïvely assumed the interview would be taped, to be shown later along with footage of the wedding, but this interview was taking place on live TV.

“And welcome back,” Ms. Vieira began.

Unexpectedly put on the spot, Trevor at first stared blankly at the camera before his brain kicked into gear and he stated his answer.

Laughing, Trevor continued.

“Kurt,” Ms. Vieira next asked, “Could I ask you how you came to be starting college at the age of sixteen? You haven’t graduated high school, and just finished your sophomore year.”

“Well, the original plan,” Kurt answered, “was for me to finish high school here in Boston while Trevor attends college. It was actually my mom’s idea…”

“Wow, you mean your mother was actually willing to let you move in with your boyfriend, even at such a young age?”

“I actually moved in with Trevor in January,” Kurt answered. Mom’s been absolutely terrific about our relationship. She knew how hard it would be on us if I stayed behind to finish high school and we ended up being apart for two years. Commuter relationships when you’re in school are not an option. It would have meant being separated from each other for months at a time.”

“But a lot of high school sweethearts do end up going to different schools, and yet their relationships survive,” Vieira pointed out.

“And many, perhaps even most, don’t. Keep in mind that the relationships you speak of are the ones that work out in the end. It’s easy to say that the relationship lasted if you only look at the ones that did, but if you were to start by looking at all high school relationships and saw how many of them emerged intact after four or more years of separation during college, I think you’d find that very few of them survive.

“I think that’s why so many high school graduates break up with their sweethearts, just before going away to college. They know their relationship would never survive the separation.”

“I hadn’t thought of it like that, Kurt, but you have a very good point,” Vieira agreed.

“A prospective study on the survival of high school love — my husband, the scientist,” Trevor stated proudly. “Actually, I think Kurt’s and my relationship is strong enough to survive two years apart, but I sure as heck wouldn’t want to put us through that, and I’m glad my mom agreed.”

“And how is it that you’re going to be in college, Kurt?” Vieira asked.

“When I received the Congressional Gold Medal, at the reception afterwards, President Obama put me through a kind of test. He sat me next to the Canon Precentor of the National Cathedral, who promptly asked me how I could reconcile my desire to become a minister with my gay lifestyle. You can imagine the debate that followed,” Kurt said with a laugh.

“Anyway,” he continued, “when we finished our discussion, she turned to the President and told him point blank that high school was a waste of time for me, and that I should enter college this year. Obama then contacted the president of Boston University, who accepted me for early admission based on my scholastic records and the President’s recommendation.”

“I understand you have a photographic memory, and have never gotten anything lower than an ‘A’, ever?” Vieira asked.

“Actually, that’s not true,” Kurt corrected her. “My handwriting is lousy, and I used to get 'C's and 'D's in penmanship throughout grade school, and I can’t seem to do better than getting ‘B’s in gym. Unlike these guys,” he said, indicating Jer and me, “I’m no athlete. I do indeed have a photographic memory, though, and can remember everything I’ve ever read.”

“So you’ve memorized the Bible?” Vieira asked.

“Multiple versions of it, as well as the Quran,” he added.

“You could recite them verbatim, right here and now?” she asked for clarification.

“How much time do we have?” Kurt responded with a smile.

“Amazing,” was Ms. Vieira’s reply.

“Jeremy,” she continued, addressing my fiancé, “you and David are in fact top athletes as Kurt pointed out. I understand that you and David took your school’s varsity soccer team all the way to the state championship.”

“Well, of course it was a team effort, but David was the captain and I have no doubt that his leadership and skill were the real reasons we went so far…”

“You had as much to do with it as me,” I interrupted. “I led the defense, but you led the offense. Without your ability to direct the offense and set up goals, we’d have never won, no matter how many times my defensive players turned the ball over.”

“It sounds like you both had a lot to do with it,” Vieira reiterated.

“Coach called it synergy,” I admitted.

“Jeremy,” Vieira continued, turning back to my boyfriend, “you’ve also been cited as a potential Olympic contender for 2012, but I understand that because of the wedding and your honeymoon, you’ll miss the tryouts for the U.S. team this summer.”

“Meredith,” Jeremy replied, “I made it to the state championships three years in a row, and won back-to-back championships in all three, but that’s only one state out of fifty, and a small state at that. Don’t get me wrong — I love to swim, and I’m very good at it, but while I might be Olympic material, I’m no Phelps. I’m probably not gold medal material. Still, I think I have a shot at making the team, and I’ll be able to make the trials next year. However if we didn’t get married and take our honeymoon this year, God knows when we’d find the time in the future. David is far more important to me than a shot at an Olympic medal.”

“How did you all meet?” Vieira asked.

“I became very shy and withdrawn in middle school when I realized I’m gay,” I began.

“It’s hard to picture you as shy, David,” Vieira interrupted.

“Well I was,” I continued, “but then during the summer between middle school and high school, I met Jeremy. It was on a torridly hot day, and I headed down to Broad Ripple for some ice cream. Jeremy lives near Broad Ripple, and we sort of ran into each other.”

“At first you didn’t even recognize me,” Jeremy interjected.

“Yeah, but that’s only because of my being shy and not really paying attention to anyone in school. Once I realized who you were, and there were the rumors about you being gay…”

“Feeling up your best friend in gym class is a good way to start a rumor,” Kurt interrupted.

“It was an accident,” Jeremy clarified.

“But that rumor served its purpose in getting us together,” I added. “Anyway, I had an inkling that Jer was gay, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and I suddenly found myself extremely attracted to him.

“But what really cinched it was that we got caught in a sudden, torrential downpour, with lightning and hail, and we had to quickly seek shelter — so we hightailed it to Jeremy’s house — but then the lights went out. Not that we did anything, really, but spending the afternoon with Jeremy in candlelight was — very romantic. How could I help but fall in love with him.”

“It was mutual,” Jeremy related, “and we ended up coming out to both sets of parents that night, and to the whole school in the fall.”

“That’s quite a story, guys,” Vieira said, and then she asked, “How did you and Kurt meet, Trevor?”

“Well, it started when Kurt’s father, the pastor of the Hope Evangelical Covenant Church, singled me out in a sermon as an example of the evil in the community.”

“What?” Vieira asked.

“That’s what happened,” Kurt agreed, “but it’s certainly not where the story begins.

“I first developed a crush on Trevor when I was twelve, going on thirteen, and Trevor was fourteen and just starting high school. We’d always attended my father’s church together since my father took the position in 1998, and I always liked Trevor, even though he didn’t really know me all that well. I saw him singing in the choir every week, and he has the most awesome singing voice, and he’s handsome as can be…”

“No where near as handsome as David or Jeremy,” Trevor interrupted.

“To me, you’re much more handsome,” Kurt countered. “I know Dave and Jer have GQ good looks, but to me, you’re far sexier.

“Anyway,” he continued, “I was always attracted to Trevor, but when puberty hit and I started to notice a physical attraction, I realized I was strongly attracted to Trevor Austin. It was then that I realized I was gay. And then a miracle happened — Trevor came out.”

“It’s not like I planned to,” Trevor again interrupted. “Not with my parents being as religious as they are, but the school’s Gay-Straight Alliance was pushing same sex dancing at Homecoming, and I got carried away and danced with David.” Trevor blushed when he said that — it was really cute.

“Well with so many kids seeing me at the dance,” he continued, “I had no choice but to come out. I came up with a rather convoluted way to break it to my parents, but it turned out my dad already knew, ’cause he’d been monitoring attacks on our computer network at home, and even though I was careful to clear my browser cache and Internet history, it seemed that most of the attacks were from gay porno sites.”

“And he didn’t confront you about it?” Vieira asked.

“Not right away, because he wanted to get more information, and the more he read on the subject of gay teens, the more he realized confronting me would only do more harm than good. It took a while after that, but my parents eventually came around, and they now accept that my being gay is God’s will. Besides, they absolutely love Kurt.”

“My father had also figured out I was gay,” Kurt added, “’cause he was tracking my phone calls to David and Jeremy, whom I called a lot ’cause they were out and they gave me hope. So he plotted to send me away to The Christian Academy for a little sexual orientation reprogramming. But first, he sought retribution, which is where he made his mistake. He singled Trevor out in his sermon, and started a petition drive to get the school’s GSA disbanded, to change the curriculum and to replace the school board. His move backfired, however, and the local paper ended up running a very positive article on gay youth in which I took it upon myself to come out.”

“You came out in a newspaper article?” Ms. Vieira asked, seeming visibly stunned.

“If you’re gonna come out, you might as well do it to everyone at once,” Kurt said with a grin.

“My father left town after that — I guess he couldn’t handle it,” he added in a much more somber tone, “and he’s avoided contact with me ever since. He even refused to attend my medal ceremony at the White House and of course, our wedding Sunday.”

“One of the things Kurt didn’t mention,” Trevor interjected, “is that he came to me for help in hacking into his father’s computer, so he could figure out what was going on. That’s how we met. I’ll never forget when an extremely cute blond boy, who looked to be only twelve, rode up next to me on his bike and called me a faggot.”

“I was fourteen!” Kurt objected.

“Kurt, you’ve always looked young for your age, but that’s balanced by the fact that you’re exceptionally smart, and you’re far more worldly than almost anyone else I know. You’re an amazing guy, Kurt.”

“The feeling’s mutual, Trev.”

“We already discussed the camp incident on this show before, but for the benefit of those who might have missed it, could one of you summarize what happened?” Vieira asked.

Both Kurt and Trevor started to talk at once, but then Kurt continued, “Well we were both volunteering at a camp for disadvantaged youth. We started dating, but kept things low key. Then one night during the second of three sessions, one of the eight-year-old kids in my cabin had bruises all over his body. It turned out he had been beaten and raped by one of the twelve-year-olds in Trevor’s cabin, a kid who went on to become a serial rapist and murderer before he ended up hanging himself, but that’s another story…”

“Wait a minute,” Vieira asked, “you never mentioned anything about that the last time you were on the show.”

“That’s because it just happened,” I explained. “This is very recent. Some dogs dug up the body of a boy that had been missing for nearly a year. The police found Trey’s fingerprints all over one of the trash bags he’d stuffed the kid into, and they found matching duct tape in his foster home. They were gonna try Trey as an adult, but I guess he couldn’t hack going to jail. In spite all the precautions they took, he managed to use his clothes to hang himself.”

“God, the whole things sounds awful,” Ms. Vieira commented.

“A good friend of ours, who’s a Psychology major at a local university, had a grant to do a study comparing Trey with my brother, Sam,” Trevor noted. “They both went through exactly the same thing, both coming from abusive backgrounds and being repeatedly raped at camp, and yet in spite of dealing with HIV, Sam is now a ‘straight-A’ student who speaks multiple languages and gives freely to others. The contrast couldn’t be more stark.”

“Yeah, but Sam has a loving, adoptive family, whereas Trey was still in an abusive, foster care environment,” Kurt pointed out.

“Still, that doesn’t explain everything,” Trevor countered. “After I’d been taken away and accused of being the camp rapist, Sam turned in the real rapist, a guy who went by the name of Gary, but was himself a serial rapist and murderer working under a false identity. Sam didn’t have to do that — he could have let you take the fall, Kurt, and that was long before we took him in.”

“You’re right about that, Trev,” Kurt agreed. “No doubt about it, Sam is special. In spite of everything he’s been through, he's managed to rise above his circumstances.”

“You’re pretty special too, Kurt,” Vieira pointed out. “Not only did you put your own life in danger to rescue Sammy Franklin, but you went on to speak out on behalf of other victims. You became a national role model. How many other kids can boast a Congressional Gold Medal at your age?”

“None,” Trevor answered. “Kurt’s one in a million and I’m never letting him go.”

“So are you, Trev,” Kurt countered. “You’ve done an awesome job running the GSA, and built a kick-ass website that’s a top-ten resource for gay youth. You’ve counseled dozens of gay and questioning teens, talked a few of them out of offing themselves, and even talked down a kid from a potentially deadly kidnapping situation. It’s no wonder the school awarded you the Outstanding Senior Award at Graduation.”

“What’s this about a kidnapping situation?” Vieira asked.

“It was at homecoming last year,” Kurt answered on Trevor’s behalf. There was this kid, Bret Andrews, who resigned from the freshman football team because he couldn’t stand that the quarterback was gay, so he kidnapped the quarterback’s boyfriend at the homecoming dance and threatened to kill him if the quarterback didn’t hang himself. He meant the whole thing as kind of a joke, but the situation got out of control and became deadly serious.

“As it turned out, Bret was secretly gay and hiding deeply in the closet, ’cause of his homophobic father. Trevor managed to talk to the kid and make him give it up.”

“Yeah, but Larry Peters was the one who really saved the day by offering a place for Bret to stay, away from his father,” Trevor added.

“And you made it happen,” Kurt challenged. “Besides, Larry had his own reasons for wanting to help — he wanted to date Bret.”

“How true,” Jeremy kicked in. “They both came out that night, and they’ve been tight ever since. They’re as tight as we are, I think.”

“What an interesting story,” Ms. Vieira commented. “You boys certainly seem to have gotten into some interesting situations.”

“There’s also the time Trevor prevented a girl who’d just been dumped by her girlfriend from killing herself, and the time he counseled an Asian family when they caught their son looking at gay porn on the Internet. Trevor’s been, like, the number one counselor for gay kids at the school. He may think I’m one in a million, but he’s one in a million, and I’m never letting him go, either,” said Kurt.

“Well, we need to take a break right now,” Ms. Vieira interrupted. When we come back, we’ll have more to say about the upcoming double gay wedding of David Reynolds and Jeremy Kimball, and Trevor Austin and Kurt DeWitt.”

“And we’re away!” someone signaled.

“You’re doing great, guys,” Vieira stated encouragingly. “Our viewers are going to eat this up.

“Would you guys be up to answering some questions from viewers back outside our New York studio?”

Shrugging my shoulders, I said, “I don’t see why not.” Everyone else nodded their heads in agreement.

The commercial break must have lasted a good five minutes, during which we all made idle conversation, and then we were back on the air.

Vieira started the ball rolling again by asking, “I assume you’re getting married in Boston because gay marriage is legal here?”

“That’s a good part of the reason, but it’s also because we’re going to go to school here,” I answered. “Boston is going to be our home for the next seven or eight years.”

“How exactly did you all manage to get into school here?” Vieira asked. “I mean, you’re going to some of the finest schools in America.”

“Well like Kurt already said,” I continued, “he got into BU because Obama put in a good word for him, as he did for all of us, actually. Having friends in high places has certainly helped, but I firmly believe we were all accepted based on our merits. BU was an obvious choice, as they have one of the best Theology schools in America, and they’re also gay-tolerant.”

“And I’ve always wanted to go to MIT to study Computer Science,” Trevor added. “It has one of the best departments in the U.S. My grades are nearly all ‘A’s, and my SAT scores were nearly perfect. Still, it’s quite a fu… I mean it’s quite an honor to be able to go there.” Boy, did Trevor ever turn red when he realized he nearly slipped and used the ‘f word’ live on national television. We all knew there was a slight delay to allow censorship of such mistakes, but it was still very embarrassing for him.

“Harvard was the natural choice for Jeremy and I to go to for Pre-Law and Law School,” I added. “When we decided to take early graduation, however, it threw quite a monkey wrench into our plans. Harvard, being Harvard, wouldn’t give us word on whether or not we’d be accepted for this year’s fall term until the spring. In the meantime, some really excellent schools such as the University of Chicago had offered us early admission, and some even offered full-ride athletic scholarships. We were sorely tempted, but we weren’t about to go to school in a state that doesn’t allow gay marriage, and we really wanted to go to school with Trevor and Kurt. They’re our best friends — they’re like brothers to us.”

“So are you going to be rooming together,” she asked.

“As a matter of fact, we just bought a condo in Cambridge,” Jeremy answered. “Well, it was all our parents that pitched together to buy it for us as a wedding gift, but when we finish professional and graduate school, it will be ours. It’s a really nice, large three-bedroom condo in a fairly modern, bright and airy building, and it’s within a twenty minute walk of all three of our universities.”

“It sounds nice,” Vieira acknowledged. “So what are your plans for the honeymoon?” she asked.

“Four weeks in Europe,” I answered. “A week in London, a week in Paris, a week in Italy and a week in Spain.”

“Our little brothers will be with us for a couple of the weeks,” Jeremy hastened to add.

“Won’t that be quite an intrusion on your honeymoon?” Vieira asked.

“Nah,” Trevor answered. “Our brothers mean the world to us, and we won’t mind. My parents had planned to take Sam to Paris and Italy as a reward, ’cause he got an ‘A’ in French and has also learned Italian. Sam loves art and some of the best museums in the world are in Paris, Florence and Rome. Unfortunately, my folks got tied up with a brand new client at work, and they asked if we’d be willing to take Sam instead.”

“They bribed us with upgrades to first-class travel and accommodations, but we’d have offered to do it anyway,” I stated. “The one thing we asked was if we could bring our other brothers with us — my brother, Brad, Jeremy’s brother, Cliff and Sam’s best friend, Paul.”

“It was particularly important that Cliff go,” Jeremy added. “Cliff was also one of the camp abuse victims, only he actually has AIDS and isn’t expected to live more than a year or two. He needs to live a normal life, and do things that are special with whatever time he has left.”

“And after what Brad did for us last summer with organizing the caravan of kids to show their support for us, he deserves something special too,” I threw in. “Plus Paul is Sam’s best friend, and I know Sam will be much happier with him along.”

“Do you ever do anything just for yourselves?” Vieira asked.

“Oh believe me, we’re as spoiled and selfish as any other teenagers in all other respects,” Jeremy replied with a laugh.

“After we take another commercial break, we’ll be back with some questions from our audience back in New York.”

Damned if it didn’t take another five minutes, but then we were back on the air. Al Roker was on the street outside Rockefeller Plaza in New York, and we were able to see and hear the people asking the questions via an uplink to the studio, just as the viewers were seeing them.

The first question was from a teenage girl who looked to be around fifteen. “I know you guys are all gay,” she asked, “but why don’t you like girls?”

“Wow, that’s a loaded question,” Kurt answered. “It’s not that we don’t like girls,” he responded, “but we just don’t like them that way. We have a lot of girls who are friends, some of whom are lesbians, for that matter, but none of us feels any sexual attraction to girls at all. Brittany Spears could be naked, right in front of me and I could go to sleep right next to her — no problem. With Trevor, on the other hand — well, let’s just say we can’t keep our hands off of each other.”

“It’s not like we had a choice in the matter,” I added, “in spite of what some people may say. I didn’t wake up one morning and decide, hey, I think it would be fun to be gay and be hated by everyone and get beaten up all the time. When all my friends couldn’t stop talking about girls, I felt nothing toward them. When puberty kicked in, however, I couldn’t help but want to look at boys. It was then that I realized I was gay, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t change the way I felt.

“I was miserable all through middle school, but then I met Jeremy and everything changed.”

“As was already mentioned,” Jeremy added, “I was outed in the eighth grade. It happened during a basketball game in gym class. My best friend at the time and I were on opposite teams, and we collided, sending both of us to the floor. I was kind of knocked out briefly, and when I came to, I was sort of feeling him up. I certainly didn’t do it on purpose but, as my friend pointed out, a straight boy wouldn’t have groped him. If that doesn’t show that being gay is something that occurs at a subconscious level, I don’t know what would.”

Another teenager, a boy who looked to be around thirteen or fourteen, asked, “Do you have any advice for kids on coming out to their parents?”

Trevor answered, “Well, asking a question on live TV is certainly one way to do it,” which caused the boy to turn bright red. “I’m sorry if I’m stating the obvious,” Trevor added, “but since you’re doing it on TV, I have to assume you are relatively comfortable that your parents will be accepting, and I assume you’re already out to your friends, or feel confident that most of your friends will be accepting.”

“Most of my friends know,” the boy agreed, “and they’re cool with it. I guess everyone’s gonna know now, but that’s okay. I don’t want to hide who I am, but talking to my mom about it scares the daylights out of me.”

“I’ve counseled many gay youth on coming out to their parents,” Trevor continued, “and the most important thing I always stress is planning how you come out in advance. You don’t want to be confronted by your parents — that puts you on the defensive, and it makes it very hard to state your case. There are many excellent resources on coming out on the web, including the one we did on our GSA website. The link is www.nchs.cc/gsa. Check it out — there’s a lot of good information there. You know your parents best, but it’s always helpful to have as much information as possible going into this sort of discussion. You might want to print out some materials from our website, and don’t hesitate to refer your parents to the local PFLAG chapter.

“I also urge everyone to consider having a backup plan in place, just in case things don’t go so well when coming out. This can mean anything from having someone who can be supportive, to someone who’s willing to provide a place to stay, at least in the short term, if your parents react negatively. Knowing you won’t be out on the street is an essential element to any planned coming out. Your safety comes first. Usually, I recommend coming out as soon as you realize you’re gay, or at least talking to your parents about it if you aren’t sure, and I generally think being honest is always best. But if there’s a chance you might be in danger from coming out, I strongly recommend staying in the closet until you have a safe alternative.”

“Thanks very much, Trevor,” an attractive younger woman who was standing behind the kid responded as she put her hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know what got into my son, asking the question with me being right here, but I kind of suspected it, and I’m glad Kevin had the courage to come out to me. We’ll be sure to look up your website when we get home, but I love my son very much, and nothing is going to change that.” The kid looked up at his mom and smiled at her when she said that, which made us all feel great.

The questions seemed to go on and on, dealing with everything from the legitimacy of gay marriage when it isn’t recognized by all states, to the appropriateness of gay people in raising children. Of course we all felt that it should be our right to marry, the same as any straight couple, and for our marriage to be recognized all over the world, but we’d take what we could get for now. We also saw no difference between a gay couple raising children and a straight couple, the only negative being that we couldn’t have children of our own without resorting to the use of a surrogate.

All in all, I felt good about the way the interview went, but thoroughly exhausted when it was over. It was too bad that we were just warming up, for the rest of the day was to be jam packed with things that had to be done in preparation for the wedding.