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The gravel crunches as they turn onto the parking lot. It’s been years, but somehow everything remains the same. Maybe it seems a little smaller. But then again, it’s just a parking lot.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” David mutters, squinting through the windshield. It’s a balmy afternoon in fall. The trees have just started to turn, and the leaves float in the gentle breeze. It’s a perfect Saturday.
Patrick smiles fondly at him from the passenger seat, squeezing his thigh. The high afternoon sun makes the addition of four new rings sparkle and glow. “David, it’s gonna be fine.” His voice will never not be a soothing balm.
And when he looks back at Patrick, he positively melts. This is a common occurrence, but something about being back, being here in Schitt’s Creek, had David feeling like the inside of a roasted marshmallow- only in the best way possible.
He reaches across to grab his jaw and kiss him, when a frustrating throat clearing is heard from the backseat.
“Ew, could you two not, please?”
David groans. “Ugh. Why are you even here?”
“ David , spouses are invited, and Twyla said she was coming from the cafe. I told you when we got in the car!”
“Alexis, this is my high school reunion!”
“Yes, and it’s also Twy’s,” Alexis says pointedly while making her way out of the car.
David groans and turns to Patrick for some degree of sympathy, but he just undoes his seatbelt. “To be fair, Ray’s calligraphy font on the invitation wasn’t the most accessible.”
“You couldn’t have said that while Alexis was still in the car?!”
Patrick shrugs. “You coming, David?”
He is, David’s coming. He’s been looking forward to/dreading coming back ever since the invitation came in the mail. He was surprised it even found its way to him. Given that the last ten years or so have included a couple of years living in New York, and that dark period where Patrick decided to go off and find himself while backpacking through Europe, they’ve somehow landed in one central location. And somehow, Ronnie and Ray kept up with enough of their antics in order to figure out where in the world they were.
Heading through that wooden archway again, the memories come flooding in; walking through to the main field for the first time with Ray, walking through for a second first time when his heart was broken and the ground was blanketed in snow, standing underneath to pose for a picture on the last day, laughing and gripping onto his friends. His friends. He hasn’t seen them in years. At least in person, that is.
A squeeze of the hand indicates that he’s been lost in his thoughts. Patrick kisses his temple, then whispers dreamily in his ear, “You sure you don’t want to see the chickens before we head inside.”
“That’s a solid pass, but I appreciate your insistence on double checking,” David winces.
Patrick cracks a smile, the troll that he is, and leads David lazily through the garden.
“Feels good to be back, huh?”
“I don’t know why you’re so excited. It smells just like it does at the cottage,” David mentions offhand.
The cottage, their cottage, is waiting back for them in West Canthor. It’s only a short drive into town to get to David’s gallery, and Patrick is a short walk away from the provincial park entrance. It’s perfect, and it’s all theirs.
They’re a little early, so Ronnie and Ray are still fluttering around inside, setting up the tables and the projector. They walk hand in hand into the main hall, and David brings up his hand in a shy wave. The only thing that’s changed is her hair colour. Ronnie’s face goes from happy to surprised to suspicion. Then she notices the gold rings on David’s fingers and her expression turns to... well… evil.
“Well I’ll be damned,” she mutters. “Ray!” she calls in the general direction of the kitchen. “I owe you fifty bucks.”
There’s a crash heard from the kitchen, then a sudden swing of the door. “Really??” Ray is grinning from ear to ear, not even having bothered to take his oven mitts off.
Patrick laughs, moving towards the kitchen to greet him with a hug. “Good to see you, Ray,” he chuckles and tries to breathe within Ray’s tight squeeze. He hasn’t seen him since two Christmakkuh’s ago, when their family was at his and Charles’ for dinner.
“Tell me everything!” Ray jumps out of Patrick’s embrace and holds him by the shoulders. “And more importantly, why haven’t I seen anything on the socials yet? And would you like mouse pads as save-the-dates? Because I can have a mock up for you in three to five business days.”
“It’s still very new to us,” David comes to the rescue, “We were just so caught up with tourist season, not to mention I want pageantry that takes months and months to plan.”
Ronnie smirks, hand on her hip. “Shame you’re so comfy up north, you know I am retiring in a five year window,” she directs to Patrick.
Oh. David hadn’t thought of that. Patrick had always talked about creating something similar to Outdoor School, but they were fantasies he’d spin after getting back from facilitating corporate retreats and private school “glamping” trips.
“You’ll retire over my dead body,” calls a familiar voice. “No one handles the parent council like you, Ronnie.” Rachel smiles, car keys jangling on her carabiner as she comes up to greet all of them in hugs. It’s not like they didn’t see Rachel the night before. She nearly passed out on the living room couch at Rosewood, her voice tired from recounting work stories over several glasses of wine. David watched on as she and Patrick dreamed of what they could create in West Canthor together.
“You two should go take a walk down memory lane,” Rachel nods toward the doors. “Leave the old folks to set up,”
“Hey! Respect your elders, missy,” Ronnie jokes with her.
Patrick suggests they head towards the pond, and David gladly takes his hand. Every now and then he notices Patrick glancing down at the rings, and something in his belly does a little flip-flop. This is what home feels like. They walk down the path, pointing out various landmarks. Some are obvious, belonging to their entire class, while others are secrets they’ve kept just between themselves. Like that one time when they were harvesting maple sap and Patrick pinned him up against the tree to make out, only to knock over the sap-filled bucket onto their mukluks.
As they pass the south cabin, Patrick prods him with, “Remember that day we played capture the flag, and you accidentally got a grass stain on your Comme des Garcons?”
David gasps, coming to a halt on the gravel pathway. “How dare you?”
Patrick bursts out into laughter, but David is distracted by two figures coming through the path in the forest. “Wait- is that?”
“Omigod,” Patrick whispers under his breath.
“Hi guys!” Ted waves excitedly, his other hand held firmly by Miguel.
“No way!” Patrick’s hands find a place on his hips. Both of them are in shock.
“Oh this?” Miguel shrugs, glancing between the two of them. That spark they always had seems to be there, but the competitive spirit and pointed retorts has melted and settled into affection and soft smiles. “Followed this guy to his semester abroad in the Galapagos,” Miguel gently bumps his hip with Ted’s, “Turns out it wasn’t just for the turtles.”
“Well I’m very happy for you both,” David reassures. He needs Ted to know that. He liked Ted- he’s always liked Ted. But somehow Alexis is even happier now. (He didn’t think she ever could be.)
“You guys headed out into the forest? Pretty sure I saw the canoes out by the pond,” Ted suggests, his hand still happily entwined with Miguel’s.
“Yeah David’s never really been one for canoeing,” Patrick shrugs. Funny. David canoes when he needs to. When it’s someone who’s as calm and confident as Patrick at the stern. He tries to mask how taken aback he is, and instead waves as Ted and Miguel head onto the path towards the main hall.
“I can canoe when I need to,” David repeats to himself. This time it comes out as a mumble rather than a thought that stays dormant inside his head.
Two loving brown eyes look back at him. “I know,” Patrick whispers, pouring an impossible amount of love into two sentences. There’s a part of David that wonders if Patrick will ever stop looking at him like that. He hasn’t since… since they met, now that he thinks about it. He remembers the very first day of school out here, baking in the sun on the footbridge, staring up at those brown curls. The memory becomes even more clear to him as they set foot on the very same bridge, somehow seeming smaller than it did all those years ago.
David smirks, remembering the cherry-pit spitting contests in the weeks before summer vacation, the time Stevie slipped and fell on her ass after that particularly bad rainstorm, snowshoeing hand in hand with Patrick after coming back from winter trip… every inch, every object is etched with memories. Patrick's thoughts seem to welcome an equalling silence, his thumb soothing over David’s, reaching for the metal of his engagement rings. It’s a beautiful feeling.
“Oh look,” Patrick breaks the silence with a casual tone as they step past the long grasses, towards the shore of the pond. “The canoes are still here, David.” He wiggles his eyebrows, tips teasing.
“Of course they’re here, why wouldn’t they be?” David’s eyes narrow in suspicion.
Patrick shrugs, “Maybe this semester a young boy is going to fall in love with another boy in this pond.”
“Mhm,” a nervous feeling starts to stir at the bottom of David’s stomach, “I guess that’s a possibility.”
“David, we’ve got time. Why don’t we pop in for a little bit. For old times sake?”
David wishes he was capable of saying no. He’s not necessarily as anxious as he was at the shore of this pond ten years ago, when he hadn’t even been in a canoe before, (thank god for modern medication), but it's not like this is his favourite activity in the world.
He takes a deep breath. In for four. Out for four. He remembers a quiet lake in Northern Ontario, a tentative first kiss under a sparkling night sky.
A gentle breeze drifts and caresses his face, and he opens his eyes to see the hopeful, loving man standing by his side. My husband , a word he can’t wait to use.
“Okay fine,” he succumbs. Patrick whoops with glee, scampering over the canoe shelter to single handedly pull a familiar looking yellow shell onto the sand. Boyscout Brewer is back and raring to go.
It doesn’t take long to get suited up and push out into the water. As the wind rustles through the drying tree leaves and the sun tries to peek through the clouds, muscle memory takes over. Of course, Patrick is steering so there’s not much David has to do except breathe and paddle.
So maybe David is feeling confident. Perhaps even a little bold. “Patrick, do you remember that time you almost killed us when we were pulling a sled for the first time?”
“And what about the time you and Stevie accidentally burned the bannock?” Patrick challenges back. “You remember that?”
David doesn’t have to turn around to see the mock-judgement in his fiancee's face, but he turns around anyway. “You think I don’t remember that?!” Patrick grins. “Besides, that was partially your fault!” David dips his paddle in the water then pulls it back sharply, sending a splash of pond water directly at Patrick.
“Hey!” Patrick jumps back a bit and chuckles. David sees a glint in his eye before he dips his paddle deep in the water, keeping steady eye contact.
Then everything happens in slow motion. A dull tapping sound, Patrick’s face falling, then a jerky-sliding feeling. David can barely make out a gasp before the canoe goes horizontal, and they both fall into the water.
It’s cold and wet, and though his toes can scrape the bottom, he could do without the feeling of his Rick Owens scraping pond sludge. Ew.
David breaks the surface at the same time as Patrick. Brown curls flattened, he gasps for air and calls for David. There’s the tiniest pause where David expects something to happen. The monster inhabiting his brain expects for his airways to close, or to be pulled underwater. But instead, he starts laughing.
“David?” Patrick calls desperately, closing the space between them. “David, you okay?” Patrick pushes his sopping hair back and grips David’s shoulders, also treading water.
David tries to brush the water off his face, still overcome with giggles bubbling up from inside him. “I’m fine,” he manages, reaching out to grip Patrick’s shoulders.
He sees a man he’s known for more than a decade, the most beautiful person he’s ever known. His person, who he met here, of all places.
“I’m so happy,” David whispers.
Patrick chuckles, then surges forward, crashing their lips together.
“You idiots!” A voice calls in the distance. Frantic and frustrated hand wave, while raven black hair floats in the wind. “There’s no way I’m coming over there to save your asses!” Stevie yells.
David doesn’t even have the energy to yell back. Instead, he and Patrick burst out into laughter again. Never would he have guessed how much this school changed his life for the better.