Building Forever

By Kaje Harper

Four years ago, Ryan and John decided they'd wait to get married until it came with full legal equality. Now, thanks to the Supreme Court, that historic moment has finally arrived. But three hundred miles separate Ryan's hectic residency from John's busy campus job. With a son in college, a daughter choosing her future, and a rambunctious Irish Setter needing attention, planning a wedding isn't simple.

Of course, even the most perfect ceremony can't solve all their problems. What does it take to build forever?

(Book 2.5 in "The Rebuilding Year" series.)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kaje Harper
• Release date: Oct 14, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370220021

Kaje Harper

I get asked about my name a lot. It's not something exotic, though. “Kaje” is pronounced just like “cage” – it’s an old nickname, and my pronouns are she/her/hers.I was born in Montreal but I've lived for 30 years in Minnesota, where the two seasons are Snow-removal and Road-repair, where the mosquito is the state bird, and where winter can be breathtakingly beautiful. Minnesota’s a kind, quiet (if sometimes chilly) place and it’s home.I’ve been writing far longer than I care to admit (*whispers – forty years*), mostly for my own entertainment, usually M/M romance (with added mystery, fantasy, historical, SciFi...) I also have a few Young Adult stories (some released under the pen name Kira Harp.)My husband finally convinced me that after all the years of writing for fun, I really should submit something, somewhere. My first professionally published book, Life Lessons, came out from MLR Press in May 2011. I have a weakness for closeted cops with honest hearts, and teachers who speak their minds, and I had fun writing four novels and three freebie short stories in that series. I was delighted and encouraged by the reception Mac and Tony received.I now have a good-sized backlist in ebooks and print, both free and professionally published, including Amazon bestseller "The Rebuilding Year" and Rainbow Award Best Mystery-Thriller "Tracefinder: Contact." A complete list with links can be found on my website "Books" page at https://kajeharper.wordpress.com/books/.I'm always pleased to have readers find me online at:Website: https://kajeharper.wordpress.com/Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KajeHarperGoodreads Author page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4769304.Kaje_Harper

Book preview

Prologue

June 2014

Fuck her! Ryan paced in and out of John’s sight over Skype on the laptop screen, too agitated to sit down in front of his camera. Fuck them all! Where do they get off, playing with people’s lives? He pitched his voice to a falsetto. Oops, I guess you gays aren’t really human after all. Try again next time.

John managed nothing more than a wrung-out, Yeah. In spite of the comfort of his warm, sun-lit, coffee-scented kitchen, all he could feel was the void left by Ryan’s absence. Oh, yeah.

I was so ready for this. For you.

I know.

For months that spring, as Ryan moved through residency-planning, and exams, and huge, gut-churning stress, they’d waited for a ruling in the equal-marriage case pending in a Wisconsin Federal Court. Just two weeks ago, they’d had to leave for Ryan’s Minnesota residency, with the issue still in the air. John had pointed out, just once, It’s legal in Minnesota to which Ryan’s No had been absolute. With Torey waiting for her own state to come through, he’d agreed.

They’d parted on the steps of Ry’s Minneapolis apartment building, John trying to hold the ache in his heart at bay with fierce hugs and promises. Then he’d driven six hours home, back to this half-empty house. But still, they’d been buoyed by hope.

And it happened. That magic moment, just last Friday, only a week after their parting, when the judge struck down the marriage ban. Lesbian and gay couples just like them had been waiting at county offices around the state, for clerks to start issuing licenses, and some did, that very night. He’d called Ryan, who’d tried to laugh as he said, I can’t. I fucking can’t come back right now. Soon, yeah, I’ll have that weekend off. Anyway, we can look forward to it. Soon. His exultation mixed with frustration came clearly across Skype, making John ache to reach through the damned screen and hug him. But they’d planned, and shared the joy of finally being equal.

Now, only a week later, the judge’s stay on that decision cast all their hopes back into limbo. No marriage for them now. Maybe not ever. Dammit. He rubbed his eyes.

On his laptop screen, Ryan paced another turn. I even saw some motherfuckers talking about jail for the clerks who’d issued the licenses.

John tried to be realistic, against the tightness of his throat. That won’t happen.

Is Torey okay? What did she say?

She cried. John’s daughter had just turned seventeen and started dating her first steady girlfriend. He’d held his shaking child in his lap, like when she was small, wishing this hurt could be solved with a kiss and a Band-Aid. He’d tried to reassure her that the people who thought she was less worthy were a tiny, vocal fraction of going-extinct, bigoted, old people. It’d been scant comfort, when they held her future hostage. But then she rallied. She’s tough. She’s painting protest signs.

Go Torey!

Yeah. I’ll be out there with her.

You?

He knew his smile was more of a grimace. I’ve been quiet too long.

You hate conflicts and fights.

For my kids? For you? I’d do more than just march with a signboard. But that’s where I’ll start.

Ryan leaned toward the camera. I’m still flying home in two weeks, for an overnight. This doesn’t change that.

Good.

I’m going to kiss you in the airport, and we’re going to have as much fucking gay sex as we can cram in two days.

Hopefully not in the airport.

Hah. Sadly, no. Ryan rubbed his face hard. "Would serve them right. How dare they say what we have is less than real?"

We may still win the appeal. Some people think we have a good chance.

"I hope. But that’s what? Months from now? And we could lose. Fuck them!"

Mm.

I should call Torey.

She’d like that.

When I can stop swearing, maybe.

John had to laugh. You’re afraid of offending Torey?

Don’t want to be a fucking bad example. Ryan sat back in his chair, looking exhausted.

Are you okay? Surviving your first rotation?

It’s rough. I need— I’m not sure. My focus has been for shit.

Sorry.

God, no, John, none of that is your fault. If anything, it’s mine, obsessing over our legal status.

It matters, though.

Yeah. But it’s screwing with my head to wait like this, holding our breath, while they kick us in the gut.

What do you want to do? Get married in Minnesota? Stop planning a marriage? He didn’t care. Well, he did, but most of all he wanted happy, confident Ryan back. Whatever that took. Your call.

Our call. It’s about both of us. You have to consider the kids. Husband trumps boyfriend in a court.

Cynthia’s not going to take me to court about custody at this late date. The kids don’t come into the timing. Or what we do.

There was a long silence. They just sat there, together and not, three hundred miles of painful space between them. In the quiet kitchen, the sound of Mark’s guitar filtered downstairs, a plaintive melody. Mark hadn’t said much when the stay was announced, just retreated to his music. He’d been up there all day, scrounging meals at some time when John hadn’t been around. Other than a rear view as Mark took the dog out for a run, John hadn’t set eyes on his son. That sounds like a sad song.

Ryan must have heard the notes, because he tilted his head and said, How’s Mark?

Excited about heading off to college in the fall. Sorry to break up his band. Seems okay today. Upset for us, I think. I’ll check on him when we’re done. Sometimes Mark was so quiet, he was hard to read. The judge’s decision wouldn’t have been personal, like for Torey, but Mark felt things deeply.

You’ll miss him. When he moves out.

Hell, yes. You’re changing the subject.

Ryan sighed deeply, like all the breath was going out of him. Yeah. I don’t know. What do we do now? I’m too tired to think straight.

We can just shelve it till fall.

Or… Ryan rolled his neck painfully. How about if we move the goalposts? To where there’s no more wondering, no more yanking a win out from under our feet.

Huh? When?

The Supreme Court. You know this is going there, sooner or later. They’re going to have to rule on equal marriage.

Eventually.

Soon. The Circuit courts are in conflict. They have to take it.

John couldn’t help wincing. Because yeah, hope and fear. What if they vote no?

Ryan said, So how about this? When the whole country is told that you and I are the full equivalent to you and Cynthia, and no one in fucking Mississippi or North Dakota can deny it, then we get married. He sat back in his chair and tipped his chin up, with something of his old confidence.

I hate waiting. But Ryan’s lines of fatigue seemed to have eased slightly, and maybe this would settle him down. Whatever you need, Ry. That could work.

You don’t mind?

He shook his head. I’ve been yours without that piece of paper for years. Right now, I need you to get through, um, PGY-1. That was what Ryan called first-post-grad-year-from-hell that he was doing now. Without going insane.

Ryan huffed a laugh. Yeah. That’s the challenge.

John reached toward the screen, up at the camera. I wish I could do more. You’re sure you don’t want me out there?

Nope. Slow and steady, like we planned. Ryan reached out in his turn, a hangnail-chewed fingertip filling John’s screen for a moment. Touching would be amazing, but we both know how to wait for what we want.

Speak for yourself. He ached for a hug. Giving and receiving. Right. Yep.

We can do this.

Absolutely.

Minor set-back. Ryan’s eyes gave that the lie.

Painful damned set-back. He couldn’t help saying it, once more. God damn it, she could’ve let people hope.

She can’t stop us hoping. Give Torey a big hug for me. Tell her I’ll call her. Same for Mark.

They’re looking forward to seeing you in two weeks, too.

We might fit a few minutes in for them, around all the sex.

He chuckled despite the ache in his throat. Big talk.

Ryan’s green eyes had brightened, as he leaned toward the screen. "We will get married eventually. Fuck the bigots."

Must I?

No. Keep it all for me. Ryan’s smile was wry, but real. I love you, John Barrett. Nothing changes that.

I love you too. The outside world could deny them, and disrespect them, and insult them, but they couldn’t touch this. But after Ryan signed off, heading into another on-call shift, John sat there in his chair, staring at the laptop. With Skype gone, an article about the stay on Wisconsin’s gay marriages appeared on his screen. The tangle of protests, of bitter disappointments, of wait times that’d robbed couples of the chance, and refunds they’d likely not get, and all the morass of uncertainty, made his eyes blur. Some couples were heading to Canada or Minnesota. Some vowed to fight on.