Destiny - a novel - 17. Chapter 17: Valentine's Day

Chapter 17: Valentine's Day

I stand under the shower.

Wanting to come back to the motel so I could clean up and shave before I saw Jack, our folks dropped me and Jackson off about 20 minutes ago and said they were going on home after taking Dawn to the hospital.

Maybe I'm too young to feel this cynical, but when my mom first mentioned giving us a lift, I wondered 'Why now?' Could it have been a display they wanted to make for the cameras? I mean, they knew I was seventeen, and that the hearing was likely to end the way it did, so did they want the 'decency' of showing a united 'Oliver family moment' for the cameras?

But then again, they waited in the car, and the media did not know they were there…so… I'm feeling skeptical: I guess I'm too young to be this jaded, but not old enough to think like they do.

Maybe my parents were pressuring me just because I was in the middle of a vulnerable moment…

I did not want to face that backseat again, the scene of so many humiliating encounters with my parents, but I quickly came to feel I must overcome it. By accepting the ride, I was both facing my fears in the locus where so many of them were borne, and accepting that I am strong enough to move past those fears.

Now, as the hot water washes over me, and as I lather the soap on and through Jack's brass ring, I struggle to let the bitterness of my entire jailhouse experience go, but it's going to be hard.

˚˚˚˚˚

While I paw through my clothes for suitably romantic Valentine's Day attire, my bro smiles at me as he sits on my bed close to the window.

My hand lands on my gray jeans and I'm suddenly lost in the thought of how I was wearing them the first time I told Jack I loved him. I had them on as he sat back in my arms at the Santa Monica carousel.

Click. The camera shutter breaks me out of it, and I realize I'm standing here with only a white bath towel wrapped around my waist.

I make a fake-ass, bad boy grimace and cop a pose like a bare-knuckle boxer. Jackson eats it up with a soft chuckle and a flutter of snap shots. "The one and only…" his voice clips at a happy pace "…and still undefeated champion of the world – Lincoln Oliver!"

"Damn straight," I confirm with cockiness, before busting out laughing and putting down my 'dukes.' "This pair?" I ask, as I snatch up my red and white striped boxer-briefs.

"Perfect."

I turn my back to my bro, slip them past my ankles and all the way up to cup my nuts and backside. Then I whip off the towel as I turn to him with a couple of belly slaps. I feel like a new man – how basic and decent it is for a person just to have access to a shower and clean clothes.

As I start digging through the stack of my folded tee-shirts on the shelf in the open closet area, Jackson winds up interrupting my thoughts. My wish was a goofy one, I'll admit it, but I wish I had a colored tee-shirt to wear for Jack with a big red heart in the center of it; somehow I feel that'd convey how I feel about him through one concise visual.

"Lincoln, what do you think Dawn would like for Valentine's Day?"

"Well, what did you get her?'

"Nothing yet."

I stop my search and glare at him. "Dude…"

"Linc, come on now, what with the craziness and me having to run to County Courthouse in Oakland yesterday for your birth certificate…feeling guilty yet..?"

"Ok, I'm sorry. But, you did a great thing for me and Jack. I just, like…" I hesitate. Ah, fuck it. "You're a one-in-a-million brother, and I'm lucky to have you."

Jackson blushes, swallows loudly and looks to his camera with shy unsteady glances. "Well, that's how I feel about you."

"Then get over here and help me settle on a shirt."

He rises, slings his camera around his neck and shoulder, and sorts through my shirts while I grab my gray denim and start to pull my jeans on.

"My choice, right..?" Jackson confirms as he rummages.

"Yep – one that Jack likes. One that's good for Cupid Day."

"Got it!" He holds up my coral tee that has a picture of a faceless handlebar mustache.

"Really?" I ask with some audible doubt.

All he does is smile, push the shirt into my chest until I latch onto it, and says, "Trust me."

I shrug, and as he goes back to his bed with raised camera, I slip it on, and tuck it in.

Click. Click.

"You ready, bro?" I ask him. "We'll stop at the drug store along the way and grab some stuff. What do you think Jack will want?"

"You!"

"Besides me," I chuckle, feeling some blushing heat rise.

"I don't know." He shrugs. "That's a tough one, but I'll help you with him as long as you help me with Dawn."

"I bet she'll like those chocolate roses. Ever see them?"

"Un-uh."

As I go for and latch onto my letterman jacket from the back of the desk chair, Jackson becomes serious. "What will you do after Jack is better, or, you know…"

That question stops me in my tracks. "There is no doubt, Jackson – Jack will pull through, and then, I don’t know; I will settle down and get my head back on school work."

I pick up my jacket and slip it on.

Jackson switches off the bathroom light. "What would you want to study?"

"Don't laugh, bro, but I think I want to study medicine."

"Why would I laugh…you're smart enough to do anything you want. So, seriously – medicine?"

"Yeah. Oncology. That Dr. Kimball is about the bravest man I know, and he's very inspiring."

"Aw dude, that's awesome. I bet he'd put in a good word for you too."

I can see Jackson trying not to chuckle as he says, "Cool. You realize that's what Pops wanted for you all along."

Picking up his jacket and tossing it to him, I say, "Maybe so, but if he's pleased, that's not as important as me pleasing myself – me and Jack too." I suddenly feel a tear coming on. "I so fucking love him, brother. I don’t know what I'd do if he dies…"

Jackson lets his coat fall to the floor and locks his arms around me. "No – you were right and I was wrong. There's no doubt, Lincoln. Jack will pull through and you two will be an old married couple yelling at the kids to stay off your lawn."

I laugh, sputtering, "Fuck you."

"Come on, now!" He lets go and slaps my back hard a few times. "No tears when you see Jack, and let's go pick out something our sweethearts will like."

"Yeah." I reach down and pick up his jacket for him. "Something guaranteed to make Dawn swoon and pledge undying devotion at your feet!"

"Hell, I'd settle for as little as a kiss on the cheek. Fuck, bro. I'm already a goner for that girl."

˚˚˚˚˚

Entering the big-box drug store, I see there's a pretty long line of last minute, diehard romantics, and that there's a TV on for their entertainment.

"I'll go look for chocolate roses," Jackson says with a brotherly shoulder slap for me.

"And I'll go check out the cards for us."

We split up and I find a few people huddling in front of the rack of red dominated valentines. I slide my way in to start browsing with my fingertips.

There are cards with photographs on the front – like one of a pair of chipmunks 'kissing,' and others with cartoons or goofy illustrations. I pull up one with a foil heart and cupid on it. Inside it says:

"Roses are red,

Violets blue,

So what's to be said,

'Cept I love you."

'Sweet,' I think, as I put it back.

No, Jack needs something…something…just right for Jack.

Out of sheer curiosity, after my eyes roam over it again, I pull up the chipmunks to see what it says. I chuckle, appreciating the predictable as much as the next guy. It says:

"I'm just Nuts over You,

Be my Valentine."

As I put it back and realize that although looking at these and reading the hokey inscriptions is a pleasant distraction, I am haunted by my jailhouse time. What I think and feel towards Hamish and Christie is bitter – not love. Angry for them having done that to me and Jack – why would they do that? They're just scared little kids, that's why.

My eye gets caught on a card; it's smaller and plainer than most of the others. I pick it up and notice the cover is chocolate-brown with branch-like swirls in a dark pink. In the center, three boughs support a pure white bird's nest.

I open the interior and read:

"A Valentine's Wish

For you my love, I'll always do my best,

Not just today, but for every day to come,

For in our love you and I will nest,

At home in our bowered freedom."

I smile; this is the one. I grab its envelope, and make a mental note to pick up a pen before checking out. I almost step away, thinking my task is complete, then I remember Jackson. Cracking a smirk, my hand reaches out for the 'I'm just Nuts over You' card; Dawn will pretend to hate it, and my joker of a brother will treasure both the reaction and the card itself. Funny, it's perfect for them in a complementary way that my 'Nest' card is right for Jack and me.

I snag a pen in the next aisle, then wander back to the area where chocolate boxes are stacked well towards the ceiling. Jackson's nowhere to be seen, but I start to stroll down it anyway.

There's a bewildering display of various chocolates in ever more fanciful packaging – the classic red heart boxes, yes, but also flower-shaped containers, cupid cutouts trays, tin cans stuffed with bonbons, and even a woman's high heel shoe done in molded crimson cardboard with only six treats placed where the foot goes.

On the higher shelves are the big ones – some as large as beach balls and obviously meant for an army of lovers. Then down to the frisbee-sized ones at eyelevel, and the smaller and smaller ones down to kiddy-reaching distance. These small gifts have printed covers on the heart-shaped boxes clearly designed to attract children – some are action figure cartoons, like the Power Rangers, while other are Disney princesses, and still more have Dora the Explorer's freakishly large eyes glaring up at me.

I feel like maybe I should get one of the smaller boxes that we can share. Jack doesn't want to eat rich food, because it upsets his stomach, but one nibble won't hurt him, will it? It is a special day, after all.

Jackson slides in next to me all smiles and shoulder bumps. It seems he's found something inappropriately dorky for Dawn, as I suspected he would. I grab one of the kid containers. It has a pair of red and yellow Angry Birds on it – that's suitable to go with the nest theme, right?

Thinking of that, I slide the chippy card in my brother's hand, and delight as he cracks up like Alvin and Theodore are tickling him themselves.

Satisfied that we've done good by our loved ones, we go up to the checkout. There is a roped off queue with a few people in line ahead of us, all clutching Valentine's Day stuff. We settle in place and watch the monitor high at the corner next to the last register and exit. A CNN banner scrolls across the bottom of the screen, and then all of a sudden, the image switches to a bold "JACK SHAW" block of text.

Video footage starts to roll. It's from outside the Santa Clara Courthouse. There is a shot of me, Dawn and Jackson leaving together and walking to Pop's car. Funny, but having lived it, I still can't say I exactly remember the moment, so I am surprised to see a smattering of people there clapping and saying "Good job, Lincoln," and "We're on your side!"

The video feed switches to a split view of crowds outside Jack's house in Ohio and the Stanford Medical Center. These folks carry banners that say "Don't Treat Gay Kids Differently!," "Jack and Linc = LOVE," "We love you Lincoln Oliver." The reporter stops a young couple, and the boys are bundled up but clinging to each other and basking in their partner's rosy cheeks and jubilant smile; she asks them, "What do you think?" The one with the stocking cap pulled low over his forehead jostles his boyfriend and practically sings into the camera: "Thank you for taking a stand. You are our heroes, Lincoln and Jack!"

Jackson lightly pokes my chest with his shoulder. His face is alight with an admiring grin. "Look at that, bro. Now the rest of the world knows what a true hero you are."

As I nod slowly and re-watch the news feed, within my heart I let the bitterness go. I reconsider that forgiveness is both a possibility, and the ultimate blessing.

˚˚˚˚˚

I enter the room hoping I can be strong. Jackson follows with our shopping bag of goodies.

Getting past the blind corner, I see Jack is asleep. Mrs. Shaw gets up from the lounge chair and hugs me. Jackson put the bag down and stands next to Dawn.

"He just fell asleep," his mom tells me. "He was up all night with worry, and then after the news came, he just crumpled in relief."

"I guess I shouldn't wake him – "

"Are you kidding?" Mrs. S. pats my back, helping me remove my coat. "Go to him."

I feel myself smile helplessly. Yes, going to him is what I most desire in all the world.

Quietly approaching the bag, I step out of my shoes and bend down to fish out my card and small box of chocolate.

Everyone else sits down, and I go to Jack's side. There I place my gifts on the pillow next to my baby's head, and then lower the side rail. I climb in and gingerly slide my arm under his neck so that I can scooch my torso to be pressed against his lower back and backside.

I kiss his neck and use my other arm to gently hug him at the waist.

Jack inhales and rotates within my embrace to look at me.

"Happy Valentine's Day, kid."

"This is no dream, right?"

I kiss him. "Nope. It's you and me babe, here and now, real-time – from here on out. And, I didn't come empty-handed." I reach over and show him the card. He smiles at me. I lift the mini box of chocolate so he can see it. "We'll indulge in that a bit later…" I scrunch down to whisper in his ear, while I flex my legs to draw him closer to my body "…when we're alone."

When I straighten back up to look into his eyes, he seems contented.

"But stud, I don’t have anything – "

I cut him off with my finger pressing against his lips.

"You, Jack Shaw, have given me all that I could want."

I brush his lips with my thumb and feel him trying to hug me, so I pull him tight.

We just stay like that for a long minute, and then I remember we really are not alone. More than that, there's something else to see.

I adjust Jack's pillows so we can sit up in bed side by side. He raises it up so we have a commanding view of the room in front of us.

Jack pushes back on my chest for a second, like he's confirming something. "You wore your mustache tee-shirt?"

I cast a nervous glance at Jackson. "Yes, babe."

He hugs me tight, saying, "You even know which tee-shirt is my favorite of yours!"

Jack can't see my face as he squeezes me hard, so he also can't make out my surprised squint at my bro, or his self-satisfied smirk.

"Yes, Jack," I tell him. "I know what you like."

Jackson barely suppresses a laugh.

Once we're cozy again, side by side and in position for a view of the upcoming show, I flash eyebrows at my brother.

Dawn catches this and gives Jackson a funny scowl. He stands, goes to the bag and whips out his surprise. In the meantime, I notice that Mrs. Shaw has been given command over the 35-millimeter.

Jackson hands over a card and green-foil wrapped frog to Dawn. The girl glances at the card; her snarky 'Umph' nearly makes my brother split his sides.

Click. Click.

After the card gets put aside, Dawn holds up the chocolate toad with a puzzled question on her face for the gift-giver.

Jackson explains with brutal simplicity: "It's cuz I'm the frog who your kiss could turn into the lucky prince."

Non-sentimental, non-emotional, non-committal Dawn blushes fifty shades of red. She fingers the present with downcast glances and then unrepentantly launches a kiss on my brother's cheek.

Click. Click.

Now two blushing teens make a matched pair.

Mrs. S. turns the lens on the amused expressions of Jack and me, so I draw my boy into his own Valentine's Day kiss on the cheek, and give his mom something to really snap a shot of.

Click. Click.

While we weren’t looking, Dawn and Jackson had linked hands, gone to the sofa to sit and be lost in their own little world.

I remember the 'important thing,' and that it's time for my own show. I announce generally while holding my boy's eyes, "I actually have one more gift for you, Jack Shaw." I fish around inside the watch pocket of my jeans. As I pull it out and hold it up for Jack to see, I tell him, "Now, let me do this thing properly so you have something to tell our kids one fine day."

I swing my legs off of the bed and quickly kneel on the floor facing his mattress. Jackson, Dawn and Mrs. Shaw gather around. I lift my boyfriend's hand, and hold the ring just at the start of his left ring finger. "Jack Shaw – you know I love you now and always will – so, will you please marry me?"

A quavering shadow of joy crosses over his countenance. "You know I will, Lincoln Oliver, and do it with an open heart."

Click. Click.

I slip the ring on his finger, then climb on the bed to kneel by his side and kiss him. My fiancé and I barely hear the others applauding, and my stupid brother sending up a "Whoop, whoop!"

I pull back and open my eyes. My boy slowly holds up his ring finger to be suspended between us. He says like he can't quite believe the evidence before his own sight. "But this is my mother's ring…"

"Yes," I tell him, pretty amazed myself. "Your mom gave it to Dawn so I could come back and propose to you properly. She wants you to know that she gives her blessing."

Jack glances at his mom, and she tells him calmly, "Not only my blessing, Jack, but one from your father as well. Congratulations."

A radiant beam of hope lights up Jack's smile. He chirps, "So, let’s have the ceremony!"

"Whoa, son." Mrs. Shaw holds up her hands like one of the Supremes performing Stop, in the Name of Love! "First you'll need a marriage license. Why don’t you wait anyway? Marry in the summer, when you're all better, and there's time to plan for what you want."

Jack can't hide how crestfallen he is. He squeezes my hand. "I don’t want a party, Mom. I want to make Lincoln and me family, before it's too late."

Mrs. S. is nearly crying. "Are you sure?"

My fiancé turns to me. "You want that too, don’t you, Lincoln?"

"Yes, baby. I want to marry so it puts both of our minds at ease, and so that I can be with you 24/7. We can plan a reception for later."

He turns back to his mother. "So, will you help us, please?"

The older woman takes in a big, steeling breath of air. "Dawn, will you look online and find out what's required to get a California marriage license, please?"

"It will be my honor, Mrs. Shaw."

She runs and grabs her tablet. Dawn's back in a flash and searching. She reads it for us:

Juvenile Marriage License

Juvenile Marriage License Application

California law requires a person over the age of sixteen, but under the age of eighteen, to obtain consent from at least one parent or guardian, and permission in the form of a court order. Granting permission for a minor to marry is entirely within the discretion of the court.

Applicants must appear before a Superior Court justice with the following:

- A valid California identification card or driver's license.

- A parent or legal guardian to affirm permission for the marriage, or barring that, a sworn and notarized statement in the form of a letter that such permission is freely given.

At the end, Dawn glances up to us with a nauseous cast on her face. Splitting looks between us and Jack's mom, she says with applied bravado, "It's just a few more little hoops to jump through."

"Don’t worry, Jack," Mrs. S. says with room-clearing confidence. "We'll apply today and get it all set up for as soon as we can. It's an emergency, after all; they must have some provisions for that. And Dawn, dear, now's the time we use your social media savvy and get our boys' Valentine's Day proposal out there. For once we can use the wireless grapevine for our own advantage!"

Jack's mom comes up to his side with the IV and kisses him on the forehead with a smile. She then turns to Dawn and Jackson, saying, "And don’t worry, Jackson – I have an idea for you to implement too. Now, come on you two. Let's get on the paperwork down in the café so we can give the newly-espoused some privacy."

They gather some things and leave. We hear the room door falling into a closed position. I pull off the plastic wrap from Jack's box of chocolate. He picks one of the four pieces up and places it my mouth; I do the same. We chew and fix one another with sparkling eyes and smiles, and then draw our lips together to share a real Valentine's kiss for the ages.