William's Love - 32. Chapter 32

If you lie down with dogs…

I squeezed Liam’s hand so hard, I felt him wince.

“So how bad are we talking on a scale from the couch to divorce?” Liam asked quietly.

“I’d make sure the dog beds are clean and sterilized,” I said while I tried to release his hand, but he wouldn’t let me.

“LIAM! DARLING! You’re finally here!” A very tall, too thin of a woman stalked toward us. She was very sterile, her hair pulled back so tight into a complex thing, that sat high on top of her head. Her costly dress limply hanging from her body as she was so thin she had no shape. In one hand she had a glass of champagne that never made it too far from her lips. Her jewelry although minimal was chunky and gaudy. I’d still lay a bet that it’s all real gold and gems though. And of course, we’re finally here this is what time you asked him to arrive.

I quickly leaned forward and whispered into Dad’s ear, “Go and check those damn photo’s and let me know how bad it is for me.” I’m sure the photos are nothing less than spectacular, but they are of me and on display, for the whole world to see. Dad took Papi, Mom, and Lee and slowly made his way toward my photo’s.

The lady finally reached us, “Hello Diane,” Liam said stiffly, and he held my hand tighter, “let me introduce you to my husband – Will Blundell-Sands, he’s a talented wood artist and carpenter.” Liam gently pulled me a bit closer to him. She leaned forward and air-kissed both of Liam’s cheeks, Blugh! God, I hate fake people. As she pulled back, her eyes ran over me. Ugh! I need a shower already, and I’ve been here two minutes. I’m sure not everyone in the art world is like this, but it would make me think twice before entering it. You’d certainly have to watch your back. I might not want to let Liam to far out of my sight, I’m not sure which, but one of us might get eaten alive here.

“Is that so, we don’t get much call for that at this gallery, maybe further down south,” she said as if it were offensive to call what I do art. “Will, is it? Why don’t you have a look around at what Liam here has created? I need to introduce him to some significant people, they could help his career tremendously.” She said tapping her finger on her champagne glass impatiently like I was five years old and in the way.

“I’ll catch up with you in a moment Diane,” Liam said, she turned on her heel and took her mouth to some other part of the gallery.

Liam turned to me, “Please, I’m begging you don’t leave me alone with that woman. She’s a bully and scares the shit out of me. She’s like a pregnant Katherine on steroids.”

I straightened his tie, and gently kissed his lips, “Baby, you’ve got this. You are your own person, this isn’t your world. Well it doesn’t have to be, but you are going to be very successful at this I can tell. Look around you, people love your pictures. They are smiling, actually looking at your work instead of standing around socializing. There are a lot of important people here, and they don’t want to hear from me. Stand your ground with this woman, politely of course. If she thinks she can push you around, she’ll keep doing it. You are the most charming man I know. Work that charm and people will love you regardless of her opinion. There will be critics here from magazines and newspapers, not to mention the bloggers, and I think I even saw a few celebrities toward the back. You, my husband, are going to knock it out of the park. If it all gets overwhelming, excuse yourself and come find me. I’ll be close by.”

“You aren’t mad at me?” He said with worry written all over his face.

“Baby, I love you. And you will definitely pay for the photos later. They’ve played the LGBT artist angle within an inch of its life. So meet these people, network, and enjoy this experience. This is your night.” I said smiling. He took a deep breath and blew out the air in a quick puff. “Oh, and stay away from any more champagne. I don’t want a picture of us getting it on in the closet in the newspaper.”

Liam nodded his head and relaxed a little, “Now you go and knock their socks off. Show them you’re more than a high school kid from Kentucky. But an artist who’s serious about his work.” I patted his bum as he turned to walk away while he had the courage. He turned his head over his shoulder and winked at me. He’s got this, my famous photographer husband.

I saw the bar and made my way to it. Please God, let me like scotch, I think I’m going to need it. And while we are at it, look after my husband. Oh and let the bartender be an idiot. I confidently walked to the bar and asked for a scotch on the rocks and winked at the bartender.

“Coming right up,” he put ice in my glass and poured Glen Fiddich into it. Wow! Expensive stuff. “Is that you in that series up front.” The guy asked me, causing me to groan, “Yes! Unfortunately, hence the scotch,” I reached for the glass and tipped it toward him in thanks. “You look hot, I wouldn’t be too upset about it,” he said and winked back at me.” I took a little sip just to taste it, holy shit, that burns it took my breath away. I smiled and casually walked away from the bar so the bartender couldn’t tell I was a kid with his first spirited drink in his hand. I moved in the direction of the photos of me, holding my breath and clutching the glass in my hand like a lifeline.

Seven, I count seven photo’s in this series. There are seven pictures of me larger than life.

I stood in front of the first picture, I hadn’t seen this one before and don’t remember him taking it. The picture is six feet tall and four feet wide in sepia, giving it that extra country boy feel. I’m in my boxing gear – shorts no top, the shoes, gloves, you get the idea. My mouth guard popped out resting on my lips. My left gloved hand resting on the bag, my right crooked and by my hips, my feet still in the proper stance, although I look relaxed, my body twisted looking toward the camera but not directly into it. My hair is a sweaty mess, you can see every bead of sweat on my body. Liam had taken the photo from inside the barn facing out. To my right is Liam’s Mustang, with the tail lights facing the camera and C.C. sitting Scooby Doo fashion next to it watching me. My arms and chest looked big, he must have bulked them up somehow, you could also see my very defined six pack. All the muscles in my legs were on show. The photo is titled; “My Confidence.” This tugged at my heartstrings a little bit.

The next photo is two foot by two foot and in black and white. Again with the bare chest, I’m sitting in the rocking chair in Noah’s room with him laying up against my chest with my hand on his back. I must have been feeding him a bottle in the middle of the night so Kat and Ollie could sleep. Noah and I had fallen asleep together, we really did look cute. This picture title is “My Strength.” I’m softening a little more, let's face it this photo ties my heartstrings in knots. It’s a beautiful picture of the two of us. I looked around to see if I could see Liam, but he was busy in conversation with a couple. I saw Dad and waved him over, I moved to the next photo.

“What are you drinking there?” Dad asked.

“Scotch, but I’ve only had a few sips, here take it. It’s already warmed my insides and done its job.” I chortled. Dad took the drink from me and sipped it. His face lit up in recognition of the flavor.

“These pictures of you Will,” Dad blew out some air, “are breathtaking, Liam’s so talented.”

“He is, do you know if these are for sale?” I asked him.

“I’m not sure, do you want me to find out?” Dad asked.

“Yes, I want this one of Noah and me. No-one else can have it, I don’t care what it costs. Also, don’t let the gallery people know you are buying it for me. I don’t trust that woman in charge at all.” I said to Dad.

“Consider it done.” Dad walked off in search of someone to help him.

The third photo was in full color but not bright and bold, kind of flat and moody. It’s me in my tuxedo from our wedding but with the background all fuzzy so you couldn’t really make it out. I was sitting in a chair at an angle almost in the pose of the statue of David with my head turned toward the camera, although I looked happy; my face was pensive. The picture is titled, “My Wisdom.” Fuck I love this man. I’m still gonna make him pay, but God, I love him.

The fourth photo, I took a deep breath, this is the one that’s forcing him to sleep with the dogs. It’s a beautiful picture, but it’s of me on display. The photo is in a soft, rose-colored hue and taken from above. I’m asleep on my front in our bed, my head is on the pillow and facing, left. My arms are settled above my head but under the pillow. I have my left leg cocked up at my hip and my right one dead straight. The sheets, which are satin and show their slick shininess in the photo, is strategically placed around my waist. I know I’m naked under there. I. Will. Kill. Him. The picture is titled, “My Desire, My Passion.” Son of a bitch.

Dad, Papi, Mom, and Lee took that moment to walk up to me. Dad put his hand on my shoulder, “You can relax, sort of. The instruction for this series is they are not to be sold. Except for the first one “My Confidence,” which can be bought as a print copy, no copyright or digital negative come with it. This series has been displayed to showcase what he can do. Apparently, some artists do it to try and drum up business. It was smart of Liam to do this.”

“Uh-huh! I suppose. People keep staring at me looking at my own pictures. It feels narcissistic. But I haven’t seen any of these before.” I chortled.

“It’s Liam’s way of sharing you with the world. Showing how proud he is to be with you. Take it as a compliment. He loves you.”

“I know, I will. Have you read the titles, how am I supposed to stay mad at him. All I want to do is… Well, I’m not sharing that with you. But you know where I’m coming from.” I said with a quick laugh.

“Um… yeah I do,” Dad said uncomfortably. I heard Papi, giggle behind us.

The next photo the fifth one is from when we went hiking and camped for the night. We had made it to the top of a mountain, and I was being an idiot pretending to be Rocky at the top of the stairs, but it was on a ledge. The ridge overlooked a river below, it was serene and beautiful with the sunset in front of me, and my back to the camera with my arms punched up into the air. Titled, “My Spirit.”

The sixth photo, it was another huge one six feet by four feet again. This time it was in full color, it was an action shot of me batting at one of our baseball games for school. The ball was stopped mid-air, and I was swinging the bat just inches from the ball. It was bright, the colors bold, it was good enough to be a professional sports shot. My husband, there is no end to his talent. God, I’m proud of him. The title, “My Love.”

The last and final picture was only two foot by two foot, a simple portrait photo of me laughing, at God, knows what. The title: “My Everything.” Then underneath the dedication said, “For my Husband. I love you.” Well, that did it. My eyes were full of tears, my vision blurry. I quickly tried to wipe them away. Liam’s arm wrapped around the front of my waist and he kissed my neck, “Do I still have to sleep with our furbabies?” He whispered in my ear.

I shook my head “No,” and sniffled. Liam turned me in his arm bringing me flush against him, face to face. He wiped my tears away, with my love smile on his face. “I’m so very proud of you Liam,” I put my hands either side of his face and gave him a quick, gentle kiss. “How are you holding up, Baby?”

He smiled cheekily, “She tried to bulldoze me, but I knocked it on the head early.” Liam took hold of my hand in his and brought me to where our family had gathered. “Hey Momma, what do you think?” he said giving her his glass of champagne.

“I think my son, has more talent than he ever let on,” Mom said with a big grin on her face, and tears in her eyes. Papi put his arm around her and pulled her in for a hug. “You’re Dad, he would be so proud right now, bragging to anyone who would listen,”

Liam chuckled, “Yes he would, embarrassingly so,” and we all chuckled, “there are some people I want Will to meet, Lee I’d like you to come. It’s two gentlemen and their husband and wife that run different LGBT programs for kids in this city. Dad, Papi, Mom if you want to join us.”

“You kids go on ahead, I’d like to take another look around,” Dad told us with a warm smile.

Liam took Lee with his other hand and showed us to where the two couples were talking amongst themselves. As we approached they separated and made room for us three to join them.

“Mr. and Mrs. Davenport, Mr. Schneider, Mr. Cohen, I’d like to introduce you to, my husband Will Blundell-Sands and our little brother, Lee Blundell-Sunderland.” Both couples smiled genuinely and shook my hand as well as Lee’s. Mrs. Davenport seemed smitten by Lee, “Wow, Lee aren’t you handsome. Why don’t you come with me and show me that beautiful series of your brother and you can tell me all about yourself.” Liam looked a little concerned as they walked away.

“Don’t worry Liam, Shiela will take perfect care of him. Our son was a lot like your Lee, so I think the only danger he’s in is a dry, hoarse throat answering all her questions.” Mr. Davenport chuckled.

“Your son?” I asked gently.

“Yes, unfortunately, he’s no longer with us. He was a spirited boy and a zest for life. But there wasn’t as much support for gay kids back then. He didn’t handle it well, never let on he was struggling to cope. But… instead of letting grief take over, we started our foundation, with Roger here, Shiela’s brother – Mr. Cohen – and we run different programs throughout the city. Trying to make sure it doesn’t happen to another family.” Mr. Davenport said.

“I’m very sorry, your family had to go through that,” I said sympathetically.

“Thank you, son, that’s sweet of you. Liam here tells me you boys are thinking of doing something like it back in Kentucky.” Mr. Davenport stated.

“We’ve talked about it yes, we have close friends we consider family, they run a shelter for LGBT kids as well as a youth center. It’s open to all kids though, they would never turn anyone away,” I said, “Lee our brother was rescued from a very abusive family, and we have another back home Patrick who was from an abusive foster family, but he now is the adopted son of our Uncle Ian. As well as Beau who walked in off of the street after his family turned their back on him for being gay. He made it to Kentucky from Arkansas looking for his Uncle, who happened to be one of our Coaches at school,” I laughed “He lives with them now.”

“Sounds like you boys already have your hands in the pie so to speak.” Mr. Shneider said.

“I guess so,” I looked at Liam, and he was smiling at me with such affection.

“Have you boys thought about any type of programs you’d like to support?” Mr. Cohen asked.

“Yes, actually we have a few in mind. The system is broken, the government tries, but it’s a band-aid on a bullet wound. Our ideas are a little more long-term solutions or a way to gain practical skills for the kids. Like running SAT prep courses, they are expensive, and a kid in the foster system or a shelter could never afford it. We’d like to find the money to support the salary of a person to teach it at all the shelters throughout the Lexington area and beyond if possible. Give them some extra help, the government helps them once they get into college we’d like to help them actually get into college.”

“That’s an idea,” Mr. Cohen said, he seemed impressed.

“He has more,” Liam said nudging my shoulder, to continue.

“Please, tell us more,” Mr. Davenport asked genuinely interested.

“Well, my next idea was inspired by our brother Lee. We were all talking about what to do in college, he’d never even considered college with his family background. Then he was at the shelter before he was adopted into our family. But he wants to be a florist. All I could think was I’d buy a damn florist shop so he could work there and learn until he could take over. And then the thought came to me about the other kids in the shelter. They don’t really have money or skills for the workforce. If we were to invest in some profitable small businesses around town like cafés, a hairdresser and such maybe something clerical for the foundation. The kids could earn money, learn practical skills then find jobs to help them through school and college. There’s also the aspect of building confidence and self-esteem. The jobs we’d provide would be relatively short term maybe three to six months or so, until they could find a job elsewhere with the skills they acquire and a reference from the business. With that and one from the Foundation, it should knock them to the head of the line of candidates for jobs offered to kids our age. Then we would hire another kid from the shelter or foster system that wanted to learn and earn money. That’s a general idea anyway, there would be a lot of research to make it doable. The net profits from those businesses could form the budgets for other programs as well as any donations we can drum up,” I panted, “my apologies I get long winded when I get an idea.”

“They’re real-world solutions for some of the problems these kids face. I think it’s a useful business model for a Foundation, having it support itself as well as take in donations. What are you going to study in college?”

“I’d like to study business and marketing, specifically non-profit,” I answered. Liam squeezed my hand, and I quickly smiled at him. He had a proud expression on his face.

“You already know what you want to call your Foundation don’t you?” Mr. Davenport grinned cheekily.

I could feel my cheeks warm up, “Yes sir, it would be named after the three of us. Liam, Lee and me. Our last names melded together somehow.”

“Tell you what boys, why don’t you come down to my office tomorrow with your family around ten in the morning. We’ll take you through some of the programs we run here in town, show you around one of the shelters here.” Mr. Davenport handed Liam his card.

“Thank you, sir, we’d appreciate you giving us your time,” Liam said taking the card.

“We are all in this together to make it a better place for these kids. Their life is hard enough.” Mr. Davenport finished.

We politely said goodbye and made our way back to Mom, Papi and Dad. They were talking with Lee and Shiela Davenport. “Hello again boys,” Mrs. Davenport said, “I was just telling your parents how impressed my husband is with you.”

“Thank you Maam, your husband has graciously offered to show us around your Foundation and programs at a shelter tomorrow,” Liam said.

“Congratulations, they don’t give their time easily you must have impressed them. I better get back so I can have them talk my ear off about how wonderful you boys are,” she turned to Lee and hugged him, “you have my email address, I expect regular updates of how you're doing in school and your life.” She patted his shoulder, smiled and went on her way. Lee looked happy.

“Seems like things are winding dow…” I was cut off.

“Liam! Darling!” Every piece of my skin crawled at that women’s voice, “Come into the office, so we can sort the night's offerings.” And she turned to walk toward the office.

Liam released my hand and grabbed Dad’s elbow dragging him along, “You are so coming with.”

“And who is this gentleman?” we heard her shrill voice ask.

Followed by Liam’s stern, deep voice, “My accountant,”

Dad looked back seeking rescue, all he found were four unsupportive waves in farewell. We took a look around at Liam’s other work, wow if baseball doesn’t work out for him. This would surely be what’s next for him. I overheard people talking positively about his photo’s, not that I understood any of the gobbly gook they were spouting. But they seemed genuinely impressed by his work. I can’t wait to see where this takes him.