Page 61 of Monumental

“Oh, that… Okay, so…” shit, Cathy’s recovery time is way longer than usual. I kind of feel bad for the gal. In an act of mercy, I grab Cody’s hand and hold our intertwined hands outin front of her. It takes her a few seconds to register the two gold bands adorning our ring fingers. She blinks rapidly a couple of times and then her expression changes when she realizes that she’s just struck gold. Big time.

“Congratulations!” She beams. “When did this happen, you guys?”

“A month ago, back home in Lancaster,” Cody says.Back home.It does something to me every time that Cody refers to my parents’ place asback home.I love that for him. So much. Because Cody, who was rootless most of his life, has so many homes now. Our small house in Burlington, my parents’, and his dad and Lydia’s place in Idaho Falls, where we go every summer and alternate holidays with my parents.

“That’s just wonderful!” she nearly squeals, her auburn bob living up to its name and just bobbing away. “What a year, Cody. Top-ranking goalie in the League, a Stanley Cup winner,andnewly married. So, what does the future hold for the NHL’s most famous couple?”

“Good things,” Cody tips his chin, smiling.

“Yeah, only good things,” I chime in, squeezing his hand tighter. Cathy nods eagerly as she eyes Riley out of the corner of her eye. Yeah, Riley—the traitor—followed Cody to the Hawks and now I’ll never hear the end of it. Him beating my ass in the finals. How Snickers rule over Reese’s forever and ever. When everyone knows it’s the greatest lie ever told, and that Katie and their twin boys rule his sad, submissive ass.

“And there you have it, folks!” Cathy purrs. “Only good things ahead for Luke…?” She looks at me questioningly.

“Still Carrington,” I chuckle.

“Luke Carrington and Cody…?” Cathy sure knows how to draw it out for the fans. Her groomed brow rises in Cody’s direction. Someone bring in the damn drums.

“Carrington!” Cody blurts, laughing. “I’m a Carrington, now, too.”

“You sure are, beautiful,” I say, my voice turning all raspy and mellow at the same time.

“Well, if that doesn’t make you believe in true love, I don’t know what does. Now, back to you, Ken, with the latest…” Cathy drones on, dabbing at her eyes, and I’m not even sure at this point if she’s faking it. It doesn’t matter. Cody and I are the real deal.

Mr. and Mr. Carrington. Suburban gay couple extraordinaire with a borderline obese bulldog and dreams of our own hockey roster of mini-Lukes and mini-Codys one day. Well, maybe not an entire roster. We can always borrow some of the kids from our yearly hockey summer camp,Monumental.It’s a charity that we started a year ago. Most of our commercial earnings go toward the camp. It’s a safe place for queer kids who want to play hockey in an inclusive and tolerant environment. Next year, we’ll expand it to include kids from underprivileged families too. Give them a break. A few weeks a year where they don’t have to worry about anything. But it made sense to start with queer kids. We thought we might as well give something back to a community that we both proudly belong to.

Because that’s who we are, Cody and I. Out pro-hockey players slaying it like nobody’s business. Loud and proud. Ace. Husbands. Sons and brothers. Uncles. There are many labels that fit, but the one that fits the best is happy. So fucking happy. Because, at the end of the day, we’re just two guys who get to play the game that we love, loving each other freely and wholeheartedly while doing so. Living life the way we choose. The way that makes sense to us. And it doesn’t get any better than that.

The end.