Grounded and resilient, Hal has always considered himself to be an optimist, even after the great personal loss he's suffered in his life. When he meets Cory, a beautiful, charmingly annoying young man afflicted with an incurable illness, Hal believes he has what it takes to be Cory's companion. To be the one to make him laugh.
But the challenge can be terrifying and Hal quickly finds support in his best friend Blair. Blair's wry sense of humor and caustic nature become Hal's safe harbor in the storm. After all, Blair has always been his rock. The one he’s relied on.
As his condition deteriorates, Cory hopes to fulfill one last good deed before it’s too late. He must bring Hal and Blair to look into their secret hearts and see the wild beauty they have been hiding from each other all these years. Could his last gift to the world be a love in bloom?
“Is this okay?” Blair asked, very quietly, returning from the linen closet with a heavy fleece blanket. “He might get too hot under that.”
“No, he’s always cold.” I took the blanket from Blair and gently covered Cory with it on the couch. He’d fallen asleep halfway through the movie, with his head on my shoulder and a leg over Blair’s lap. “He didn’t take his meds though. Maybe I should wake him --”
“No, don’t,” Blair argued. “You told me yourself the medication is only for nausea.”
“He might get a migraine though.”
Blair put his hand on my shoulder. “He might get a migraine if we wake him up right now for no good reason.”
I stared at Cory’s face against the pillow. He seemed so young in this light. A surge of anger shot up my throat and I suddenly wanted to put my fist through a wall.
“Hal ...” Blair squeezed my shoulder. “Don’t go there.”
With effort, I tore my gaze off Cory and looked at Blair. “The idea that he’s going to be gone from this world in a few months.” I furrowed my brow, shaking my head. “And that he has to suffer more and more --”
“He’s a gorgeous young man.” Blair glanced at Cory over my shoulder and then walked away to the living room table to plop into a chair. He picked up the wine bottle and poured the last of it into two glasses.
I joined him, sitting next to him. I grabbed my glass and took a good swallow. “Thanks.”
“He’s clever as a fox. A bit of a spoiled brat, too.” Blair smiled sadly. “He has this privileged mentality, you know, sort of entitled, but he’s also razor-sharp funny and deeply sensitive.” He raised his glass. “I understand the attraction.”
“It’s going to get heavy in the next weeks.” I gazed into my glass. Cory’s health would deteriorate more and more and there could be seizures, blindness, paralysis, dementia. “God, I hope I have what it takes.”
“You do.”
I looked up at him. “That’s why you took that time off, huh?”
“I told you.” Blair drank and set his glass down. “I’m having my kitchen redone.”
I scoffed and then stared at him. He was giving me such an intense look that my breath got caught in my throat and when I reached for my glass, I tipped it over. “Shit --”
“I’ll get paper towels.” He left for the kitchen, not looking back at me.
Maybe I was feeling too vulnerable. Maybe the wine was getting to me. Maybe I was emotional, confused -- not myself.
“You should get to bed, big guy,” Blair said, wiping the wine off the table. “You have a long drive tomorrow, remember?”
“Speaking of that.” I stood and faced him, my stomach tight with nerves. “You don’t have any plans tomorrow, do you?”
Without answering me, he walked off to the entrance. But as he did, I caught him looking down at Cory with affection. “Oh, before I forget,” Blair said. “I’ll transfer some funds your way tomorrow. For the mortgage and --”
“Blair.” I handed him his coat. “Come with me tomorrow. It’s a boring drive to Ottawa and I could use the company. Not to mention, my mom is always asking about you and there’s always way too much food for the three of us.”
He buttoned up his coat. I couldn’t read his expression.
“Come on,” I insisted, fixing his collar. “Don’t spend Christmas alone.”
“As Saint-Francis of Assisi said, I am not alone, I am with myself.”
“There’s going to be turkey and homemade mac and cheese and later cherry brandy and cards and the next day we can go skating on the canal.”
“You’ve just enumerated everything I hate in actual order.”
I laughed and grabbed his shoulders. “Please?”
“Watch the coat.” He pushed my hands off. “Let me sleep on it. Okay?” He opened the door and stepped out.
We usually hugged before he left. Why was he in such a hurry?
“Good night,” he called out, from the hallway. At the elevators, he looked over at me. “Watch over him tonight.”
“I will ... And thank you for being such great company.”
“Well, you two make it easy,” he said, before entering the elevator and disappearing from my view.
