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“Wait until you try this place!” Patrick enthuses, his eagerness keeping him half a step ahead of David. “It’s amazing!”
David rolls his eyes but smiles at his excitement. “So you told me when we arranged this visit. And last week. And in the car.”
“Forgive me for wanting to share the most delicious red velvet cupcakes I’ve ever eaten with my fiancé.”
He turns his head, flashing David a smile that lights his eyes, has David’s stomach flipping and his heart skipping.
Fuck. How did he get this lucky?
Patrick, clearly impatient to get to the cake store, reaches down and grabs David’s hand, tugging him along gently until David quickens his steps.
“Do you think your parents will mind that we stopped off here first?” David asks as they stride down the street, weaving in and out of other pedestrians and one very inconsiderate woman who has stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to stare at her phone. “We told them we’d be there at one.”
Patrick shakes his head. “I texted them, they know we’re running behind. Anyway, we’ll pick them up something. They like this place too.”
They round the corner… and Patrick stops in his tracks. David, focused on the way Patrick’s fingers feel threaded through his, the strength and surety of his grip, takes a second to realise they’ve stopped moving.
“What? What is it?” David looks up and follows Patrick’s staring eyeline to a building across the street. A bare, empty building, its windows painted over with white paint and a ‘To Let’ sign on the door. He turns his eyes back to Patrick’s face, now wiped of his excited smile. “Oh.”
Patrick exhales before turning towards David. “Sorry, David. Looks like this detour was for nothing. Come on, let’s go.”
--
“I’m sorry, son,” Clint says some time later, after an enthusiastic welcome at the Brewers’ home. Hugs have been exchanged, kisses on cheeks bestowed, and luggage carried up to Patrick’s childhood bedroom, before they finally settled on the sofa in the cosy living room where Patrick has just told his parents about the closed cake store. “Bella’s Bakery shut a couple of months ago. She sold up, moved away. Went to go look after her mother, I think.”
Marcy presses a button on a remote control and the electric fire springs to life. It gives off no heat but Patrick’s face is gilded with a warm, orange glow when David looks at him from his spot beside him on the sofa. He looks beautiful, of course, but it is the disappointed twist to his mouth that catches David’s attention. He lays a hand on Patrick’s knee and gives it a gentle squeeze in support. Patrick turns his head to smile his appreciation and covers David’s hand with his.
“Well, I suppose she had to do what was best for her family,” Patrick says.
Marcy hums in agreement. “She was a good baker. She’s going to try and set up another bakery when she’s settled in Montreal.”
“I’m sure she’ll do great,” Patrick says. “But I have to say, I was looking forward to those cupcakes.”
Clint nods. “Yeah, it’s a loss alright.”
Marcy takes a sip from her cup of tea before setting it back down on the table at her side. “I think I might have enough ingredients; I can try and make some this weekend. I can’t promise they’ll be as good as Bella’s but…”
Patrick is shaking his head before his mother has even finished forming the thought. “No, no. I’m just… don’t worry about it. I don’t want to put you to any extra trouble.”
Marcy waves a hand in the air. “You’re my son, it’s no trouble. I’ll have a look what I have and make us something. I’d like to.”
“Should’ve known your mother would insist once she’d got the idea in her head, Patrick,” Clint inputs. “But not tonight, hey, Marce? I thought tonight we could all catch up and you two could tell us about this wedding of yours. Sound good?”
David nods, eyes automatically flitting down to the four golden rings adorning his fingers, symbols of Patrick’s love for him on display for all to see. The thought bubbles like champagne in his chest, both grounding and exciting beyond measure.
Out of a world full of people, Patrick loves him, chose him. Wants to commit himself to a life with David and called it the easiest decision of his life.
It’s incredible, unbelievable, and yet David does believe it. Over the days and weeks, months and years with Patrick, he knows he can believe in what Patrick says and in his love for David.
And David loves him too. More than he thought possible.
Beside him, Patrick sits up a little straighter, leaning forward and his voice is laced with the undercurrent of excitement that crops up whenever someone mentions the wedding.
“Yeah. Actually Dad, about that…” He glances at David who nods encouragingly. “I wanted to ask if you’d be my best man.”
Clint’s eyes widen. He gazes at his son, an exhale spilling from his lips. “Really?”
“Yes,” Patrick’s answer is instant, decisive. “You’ve been there for me all my life and I can’t think of anyone better to stand with me while I marry the love of my life.”
“Oh, Patrick,” Marcy whispers. When David looks at her, her eyes are full of tears and she raises her hands to press her fingers against her smiling lips.
“Then I’d love to, son. It’d be an honour.” Clint beams at Patrick and then stands to walk over to where Patrick sits. Patrick quickly rises to meet his father and the two men embrace, Clint whispering a ‘thank you’ in Patrick’s ear.
David and Marcy exchange a joyful look past their hugging partners and then Clint is stepping back, sniffing. He claps a hand on David’s shoulder, grinning down at him, and then releases him as he and Patrick return to their seats.
“So where are we on the planning?” Clint asks. “What can I do?”
“It’s early stages. We’ve got a few venues booked to look around,” Patrick replies. “And David has some ideas about catering. There’s a lot to do but I’ve made a couple of lists and timelines so that we can get things done and we can get married without having to wait longer than we need to.”
“Well, you just let me know what you need and I’ll be there. Your mother and I can’t wait. It’s going to be a great day,” Clint says. “Although if I know my son, ‘a couple of lists’ might be an understatement. Am I right, David?”
David squints, pretends to think. “Five or six, I think. So far.”
The Brewers laugh. “That’s our Patrick,” Clint says.
“There’s nothing wrong with being organised!” Patrick gasps. He manages about three seconds of mock outrage before he, too, starts laughing.
David can’t help it; he has to be closer. He curls a hand around Patrick’s chin to cup his opposite cheek and, holding his head still, he leans in to kiss Patrick’s cheek. Underneath his lips he can feel the soft contours of Patrick’s face bunching as he smiles.
“Of course there isn’t,” he whispers against Patrick’s cheek. When he pulls away he sees his future in-laws beaming at them, all of them sharing in this moment of joy.
Their Patrick, indeed. David’s too.
The wedding talk continues, and as the conversation flows on, they touch on other subjects – Rose Apothecary, which Stevie and Alexis are running for them this weekend, the latest news from Schitt’s Creek, Patrick’s cousins, Clint’s ideas for a vegetable patch, and stories of an escalating co-worker war at Marcy’s office.
Eventually, Clint suggests ordering in pizza for dinner, rather than having someone disappear into the kitchen to cook, and they find a menu for a local pizza place that Patrick thoroughly recommends.
“It’s good. We used to order from here a lot,” he tells David, to which Marcy holds up an objecting finger.
“Sometimes,” she clarifies. “Not a lot. I did sometimes feed my child something nutritious, David, I promise.”
David doesn’t doubt it. The Brewers give off that kind of vibe. The kind of warm family atmosphere that David missed out on as a child but is getting it back twofold as an adult, both from his own family who have stepped up in recent years and now from the Brewers too.
They order two large pizzas to share – a vegetarian and a pepperoni – and a cheesy garlic bread which has David salivating just from the photograph on the menu. When their meal arrives, they relocate into the kitchen, gathering around the small round table with the open boxes before them.
The pizza is good, David thinks, but Patrick is picking at the crust.
“Does it taste different than it used to?” Patrick asks his parents.
Marcy chews thoughtfully, considering. “You’re right. The base is different. Thicker.”
“It’s not bad,” Clint says. “But it was better before.”
“Yeah, it was,” Patrick nods and then takes another bite of pizza. “It’s still good but I kind of miss the old recipe. Wow. The bakery and now this. Lots of changes around here.”
Marcy lays her half-eaten slice of pepperoni down on her plate and folds her hands into her lap. Casting a look at Clint, she nervously smooths her hands down the thighs of her trousers, ironing out non-existent creases.
“Um… about that Patrick. Your father and I want to tell you something. We’ve been waiting for the right time and thought this weekend… at least you’d have time to think and ask any questions.”
Patrick swallows his mouthful and looks between his parents, wariness clouding his eyes. “What is it? Is something wrong? Are you both okay?”
“Yes!” Clint rushes in. “Everyone’s fine, we’re both healthy it’s just–” he pauses, fixing his eyes on Patrick carefully before continuing, “–we’re thinking of selling the house.”
Patrick slumps back in his chair, stunned. He blinks at his parents. Beside him, David’s gaze flickers between the three Brewers as they fall silent, allowing Patrick to digest this. After a long moment David carefully he reaches out and lays a hand on Patrick’s thigh under the table in reassurance and support.
The touch seems to spur Patrick to speech.
“I, wow,” he stammers. His hand finds David’s on his leg and he threads their fingers together, a little tighter than usual. “I… that’s unexpected. Is it, I mean… is it a financial thing? If you need some money I could help out.”
“No,” Marcy says. “Nothing like that. It’s… oh, this house has been good to us. It’s where we’ve lived since we got married, it’s where we brought you home after you were born, it’s where you grew up and we have so many great memories but it’s…” she trails off, searching for the words as she looks around the kitchen. “It’s too big for the two of us now. It’s a family home; we want another family to have the chance to enjoy it like we have.”
“And if we downsize,” Clint continues, “we were thinking we could give you boys a little something to start your marriage, and we could use some of the money from the sale to take a vacation to Japan. You know I’ve always wanted to go. And your mother was looking at a Caribbean cruise.”
“It’s kind of you but David and I don’t need any money,” Patrick says. He squeezes David’s hand and David sees his shoulders rise as he takes a deep breath. “But as for the rest of it, if you’re sure then… then that sounds great.”
Marcy’s face splits into a smile. “Really?”
“It’s your house.”
“It’s your house, too,” Clint says. “You grew up here.”
“I know,” Patrick says. “But you’re right, we still have the memories. I don’t want you to have to sacrifice your dream vacations to stay in a house that isn’t right for you anymore.”
“Thank you,” Marcy says. “We knew you’d understand. We just felt it was better to do this face to face, to talk about it as a family.” She looks around at all three of them – at Clint, at Patrick, and then at David. “And I’m glad to have my family all together.”
David smiles at this, warmth flooding through him at their acceptance and love.
They continue eating, and David falls into enthusiastic conversation with Clint about Japan and all the places he should visit if he and Marcy end up going. Beside him, Patrick hums along but is otherwise quiet, eating his pizza.
“You have to time it right,” David tells the Brewers. “The cherry blossoms are stunning around the end of March or the start of April. I’d try and get over there then if I were you.”
“Thanks David,” Clint says. “Are there any restaurants you’d recommend?”
David pulls out his phone and loads the websites for some of his favourite places in Japan, turning his screen to show them a few. By the time they’ve finished the pizza, the Brewers have a long list of, in David’s view, must-see destinations. They clear the table together and then David excuses himself to go to the bathroom.
He uses the bathroom and then washes his hands, the sweet, fragrance of the floral liquid soap filling his nose, before drying them and heading back downstairs.
When he returns to the kitchen, Patrick is nowhere to be seen. Marcy wipes the table with a cloth and looks up with a smile when David enters. Clint is over by the sink, filling the kettle with water.
David looks around the kitchen. “Where’s Patrick?”
Marcy nods to the window, at the darkened garden beyond the glass. “He’s outside. Said he wanted to get some air.”
“Oh.” David bites his lip. Concern knots around his heart – today has not been the day Patrick had been hoping for, beginning with his disappointment at the closed bakery and changes in the pizza place, topped off with the bombshell of his parents’ decision to move. Remembering how quiet Patrick had been at the table, how he’d picked at his food, David frowns and moves towards the door. “I’ll go and see how he is.”
“Thanks,” Marcy says quietly as David slips out of the back door into the cool, dark garden.
He looks around, eyes adjusting to the dim light. He can’t see Patrick and worry flares in his stomach.
“Patrick?” he calls. Behind him, the door to the kitchen swings closed.
A movement ahead, at the end of the lawn. A shape leans forward, revealing itself from behind a bush.
“I’m here,” Patrick’s soft voice replies.
David exhales and hurries across the grass, rounding the bush to see Patrick sitting on a low wooden bench. He offers David a tiny smile and shuffles over to make room beside him.
The bench is slightly damp from the night air and David quickly brushes off the seat before he takes his place beside his fiancé. Shaded by the boughs of a tree overhead and flanked by flowering bushes either side, this spot at the end of the garden is sheltered and secluded. Peaceful. David can see why Patrick would seek it out.
Somewhere a bird calls, the sound fading as it flies away and a hush gathers around them. Patrick is staring straight ahead and David follows his eyeline to the lit kitchen window.
Framed in the glass, Marcy walks over to Clint who is pouring hot water into mugs. She says something to him, gazing at the side of his face and he nods as he sets the kettle back down. She smiles, kisses his upper arm and turns to walk away but he stops her, catching her hand and lifting it to press his own kiss to the back of it, a gentleman honouring his lady, love radiating from them both.
It's a beautiful image. David can only hope that he and Patrick stay as in love throughout their marriage. (He’s certain they will.)
Beside him Patrick sighs and when David glances at him he’s staring at his parents, a faraway look in his eyes.
David leans into him, wanting to be nearer, letting Patrick feel his presence in the strong shoulder against his.
“I’m sorry,” he says softly, the words falling intimately into the quiet space around them. “I know you’ve been excited for this visit and things aren’t what you expected.”
“I asked Dad to be my best man and he said yes. That’s the main thing I wanted out of this weekend. As for the rest,” he pauses and shrugs. “Things change. I know that.”
“Doesn’t make it easier to accept when you’ve been looking forward to something. And your parents selling your childhood home… it’s hard.” David twists a ring around his index finger, the action and the feeling of the smooth gold under his fingertips settling some of his anxiety.
Patrick looks sideways, his attention shifting to the bush at his side. Reaching out, he traces the edge of a blushing camellia petal thoughtfully.
“It is,” Patrick says eventually. “But lots of people say goodbye to their childhood home and I moved out a long time ago. I can’t demand that they stay here just because it has good memories. Those memories will stay with me wherever my parents are.”
“Oh. I thought you were upset.”
“I was. I still am, a little. It was a surprise but I’ll adjust.”
“Mmm. It’s a change.” And David knows how hard change is to deal with sometimes. He only has to think of the Roses’ adjustment period to living in Schitt’s Creek.
“Yeah,” Patrick murmurs. He inhales and then continues, a little louder, “I was just thinking about that. About change.” He lets his hand drop from the flower petal and turns back to David. His face is half in shadow from the tree overhead but David knows it so well by now, he can see it as clearly as if it were full daylight.
“Oh?”
“Yeah. I used to sit here,” Patrick waves a hand around the garden, at the bench, the bushes, the trees. “Wishing for things to change.” His brow creases. “It’s hard to explain. There was this aching for a shift, a longing that I couldn’t shake. Something was wrong but I didn’t know what. I just knew that I didn’t feel like I thought I should. It got harder as I got older and I saw all my friends happy, knowing who they were and what they wanted. It felt out of my reach and I wanted so badly for that to change. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I had a good childhood, but something just felt off.”
“Patrick…”
David’s heart twists as he listens, stinging with pain and sympathy for that younger Patrick but when Patrick smiles at him, it eases. For Patrick’s smile is calm and content, his eyes brimming with love.
“Until you walked into Ray’s and that shift that I’d been waiting for happened. It took me a little longer to put it into words, even to myself, but something inside me knew that the thing I’d been looking forward to the most – understanding myself, finding the answer that had been missing – had finally happened. All this weekend has shown me is that the only change that matters to me is that after longing for you for so many years without knowing it, you’re here with me now.”
David sucks his lips into his mouth, tears pricking at his eyes. He nods. “I’m here. And I’m so happy I’m with you. I love you, Patrick.”
“I love you too,” Patrick says. He lets out a gust of air, and in it is contained the relief of feeling right after so long feeling the opposite, and of those years of uncertainty and confusion finally making sense. “So I’ll cope with all the other changes because I have you and that’s what’s most important to me.”
Across the garden, the kitchen door opens and Clint’s head appears around the door frame. “Patrick? David? There’s tea and coffee inside and we found some cookies if either of you would like one.”
“Coming, Dad,” Patrick calls and with a sigh he stands. “Come on. Let’s go in.”
David lets Patrick take his hand and pull him to his feet, reassured by the firm, warm hand clutching onto his like David is something precious Patrick doesn’t want to let go. They start walking across the grass, Patrick tilting his head back and breathing in the crisp air. He seems freer, his steps light as they walk side by side and David can’t help but gaze at his beautiful face, relaxed and open in the moonlight.
Patrick’s right – he has David and David has him. And that isn’t going to change.