Chapter 13

THIRTEEN

The date had to wait until the end of the week. Early didn’t mind. The Hawthorne Community Arts Center was as busy as it had ever been between all the admin work that needed to be done for the new and upcoming classes and the big fundraiser. For an event as massive as the one Martin Flint wanted to benefit CADD, they certainly hadn’t given everyone much time to organize it and pull it off. The entire thing was set to take place a week from Friday, which meant Hawthorne House was buzzing.

“It’s probably a good thing,” Early told Rebecca as the two of them worked on collating and binding the brochures of the arts center’s class offerings that would be on display during the event. “This way, I don’t have three spare seconds to worry about the date .”

They said “The Date” as if it were more important than the fundraising event itself, because in their mind, it absolutely was.

“You’re going to be fine,” Rebecca reassured them, laughing as she did, her eyes shining with excitement. “I’m just so glad that you and Rhys are finally getting together after all this time.”

Early gave her a flat look, since they’d confided everything to Rebecca so far. Everything .

“Okay, getting together again , for real,” Rebecca qualified. “I don’t think that first time counted.”

“It definitely counted,” Early said in a quiet voice, not looking at her. The one thing they hadn’t confessed to Rebecca was that that first time had been the first time.

“What’s this about a date?” Blaine asked as he wandered into the office with a box of what looked like candleholders for centerpiece arrangements. “Has some lucky man, woman, person snatched up our Early before I could have a go?”

Early blushed and laughed at Blaine’s cheeky question. Of all the Hawthorne cousins, he might have been the biggest drama queen.

“You’re too late,” Rebecca told him, taking the box from him and setting it aside. “Rhys has already made a claim.”

“Ooh? Rhys? You go, girl!” Blaine gave Early a high five, then rushed immediately into, “So when are you going out? Do you know where he’s taking you? Do you know what you’re going to wear? What look or persona are you going for? Obviously, you’ve got the full range to choose from.” He swept his eyes over Early’s body like he liked what he saw. “I think you should go for bold and forward. Send the message that you’re ready for anything.” He wiggled his eyebrows. Then his expression turned alarmed. “That is, if that’s what you’re up for. Are you Ace? You’re not Ace, are you?”

“Blaine! For God’s sake,” Rebecca laughed. “Let Early breathe.”

“I…I don’t know what I’m going to wear,” Early said, seeds of panic starting to sprout in him. “I don’t know where we’re going. I don’t know what I want to happen that night. I don’t know anything at all anymore.”

“Don’t worry, we’ve got your back,” Rebecca said. “And don’t listen to Blaine. His dating life is a train wreck, so he’s not exactly the best person to listen to for advice.”

“At this point, I’ll listen to anyone,” Early said.

They were lucky that a courier arrived before Blaine could say anything else that would send them into a panic and that they all had too much work to do to continue the conversation.

But by the time Friday rolled around and Early was faced with half a wardrobe of clothing spread over the bed in their borrowed flat, they wished they’d kept Blaine around to tell them what to wear.

It wasn’t just the date that had them uncertain about everything. The battle with their parents last weekend had taken a lot out of them. They’d gone back to wearing some of their old clothes during the week. Old, masculine clothes. They hadn’t felt right, so they’d slowly added different pieces that they’d taken from the clothes room to their look throughout the week. They’d worn the heels that they liked so much one day, then switched back to trainers the next, and then on to a sensible pair of flats that were surprisingly uncomfortable after that.

A knock on the door shook them out of their raging indecision and sent them fleeing the bedroom to answer it. They were incredibly relieved to find Rebecca standing on the other side of the door with a big wad of fabric behind her back.

“I have intelligence for you,” she said, eyes bright, walking into the flat.

“I could use all the intelligence I can get right now,” Early breathed out, following her across the main room and into the bedroom.

Rebecca stopped next to the bed full of clothes and turned to them. “I found out where Rhys is taking you tonight.”

“Oh? Where?”

Rebecca brought the ball of fabric out from behind her back and shook it open to reveal the sparkly gown they’d noticed their first time in the clothes room, the one that had belonged to Raina.

“He’s taking you to The Chameleon Club in London for one of their fancy dinner and dancing nights,” she said triumphantly.

Early gaped at the dress, then up at Rebecca. “You want me to go into London wearing a ballgown?”

“It’s not a ballgown,” Rebecca insisted, setting the dress aside, then hurrying Early through undressing so they could put the dress on. “It’s a cocktail dress.”

“It’s still a dress,” Early said, playing along and shrugging out of the robe they’d been wearing.

The two of them had a moment when Rebecca saw the black silk and lace panties they were wearing, but she kept her mouth shut about them. Her eyes said volumes, though. Early pretended there was nothing unusual about their choice of undergarments as they shimmied into the tight-fitting dress.

The dress fit perfectly. It had to be some sort of divine intervention. Rebecca zipped it up and the fabric melded around Early’s lithe body.

“I don’t know,” Early said breathlessly as they studied themself in the mirror, turning this way and that. “It’s a huge step. What if Rhys is embarrassed by me?”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Rebecca said. “My brother adores you for who you are. This,” she gestured to the dress, “is who you are.”

“This belonged to Raina, didn’t it?” Early asked. “He’ll shout at me for wearing her things again.”

Rebecca shook her head and returned to the bed to pick through the shoes Early had selected from the clothes room, searching for a pair to match the outfit. “You’re the one who told me those were extenuating circumstances,” she said. “He’s in a much better mood tonight. I saw him earlier and I can confirm that.”

Early wasn’t sure. They weren’t sure about anything. Wearing a dress in public was high on the list of things they were unsure about.

At the same time, they felt a deep sense that they had to at least try if they were ever going to discover whether it was right for them or not.

Half an hour later, they were dressed for The Chameleon Club, with heels, their hair done up by Rebecca in what they could only describe as a fancy-messy style, wearing a touch of make-up, which was a first for them, heading downstairs to the family entrance, where Rhys had texted he was waiting.

Everything seemed to tighten into the moment that Rhys turned and saw them coming. Fear and hope and every other emotion they’d ever felt hit Early as they waited for Rhys’s reaction. His face was too stunned to hint at what he was thinking at first.

Then he burst into a smile that had their body warming from the inside out.

“You look incredible,” Rhys said, stepping forward to take their hand.

Early was shaking and didn’t know if Rhys would kiss their hand, tug them outside to where the family cars were parked, or shake their hand in congratulations. They were surprised when Rhys lifted their hand, guiding them in a spin like a ballerina so he could get a look at all of them.

“That dress suits you perfectly,” Rhys said, joy in his voice instead of anger.

“Thanks,” Early said shyly, their head still spinning even though they were back to standing in one place. “I…I think it belonged to Raina. I hope you don’t mind.”

Rhys’s smile turned wistful, like he knew exactly why Early was asking. “I don’t mind at all. Let’s get going.”

Early turned briefly back to Rebecca as they followed Rhys outside. Rebecca gave them the thumbs up. It felt like an auspicious start to what was turning more and more into the most important night of Early’s life.

The ride into London felt like it took forever, and for more reasons than Friday evening traffic. Early didn’t know what to say, what sort of conversation they should be trying for on a night as important as the one they and Rhys had started off on. Fortunately, Rhys was prepared. They talked about the arts center and how everything was going with the new and prospective classes. It was a subject Early knew a lot about and could hold their own talking about for an hour.

The ride in was one thing. Once they actually reached The Chameleon Club, Early was completely speechless.

“I’ve only ever read about clubs like this in Victorian novels,” they said breathlessly once they’d passed the security checkpoint and walked into the amazing, marble foyer.

“The Chameleon Club has been around that long,” Rhys said, taking their hand and gently leading them on. “It was founded in the eighteen-thirties as the social club for The Brotherhood.”

“The Brotherhood existed back then?” Early asked, dragging their eyes away from the painted ceilings and honey-colored marble walls as they stepped up a few stairs and headed down a long, chandelier-lit corridor.

“It’s existed as an organization for gay men for longer than anyone is really certain about. They’ve always looked out for and supported its members,” Rhys said. “In the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, that involved a lot of legal help. In the eighties and nineties, they were instrumental in caring for anyone with HIV/AIDS and in lobbying for more care and protection for those who suffered.”

Early hummed, impressed, even though they thought Rhys was babbling a little to fill the nervous space between them. Their thoughts shot off in a different direction entirely as they turned a corner into an enormous ballroom that was set up like a banquet hall. The tables were all large and seated at least ten people, and wait staff circulated throughout the room like a restaurant. An empty space of floor stood at the far end of the room, and an actual orchestra, albeit a small one, was set up on a dais beyond that, playing light music.

The one terrifying thing about the scene was the sheer volume of people. For about three seconds, they worried people would stare at them and turn up their noses at the way they were dressed. They hated crowds in general, when they were dressed in what the world thought was a gender-appropriate way, but this was something else.

But just as they were close to imploding with anxiety, someone laughed loudly off to one side, and when they turned, they saw the most beautiful person in a drop-dead gorgeous dress with a scruffy beard and mustache. They looked perfectly comfortable just the way they were, as if what they were wearing and how they presented themself was the most normal thing in the world.

“You okay?” Rhys asked, squeezing their hand tighter.

“Yeah,” Early said breathlessly, not sure if that was a lie or not.

“Well if it isn’t Rhys Hawthorne and the intrepid Early Stevens,” a wizened voice called to them from one of the tables.

Early turned to find Benjamin Hollis, one of the wily old members of The Brotherhood who had swooped in at the last minute that summer to save Hawthorne House from Willoughby Entertainment, waving at them. George Plimpton, one of Hawthorne House’s other saviors was sitting with him.

“By Jove, it is them,” George said, pushing back his chair and standing with the shaky elegance of an elderly man who refused to admit his age. “Come and join us, you two. We were just telling this lot about our adventures at Hawthorne House.”

There were four other people at the table, all of whom seemed eager and interested as they glanced Early and Rhys’s way. There wasn’t a drop of judgment in any of their eyes, only a happy appreciation of their presence.

“Do you mind?” Rhys asked, leaning closer and murmuring in Early’s ear. “They don’t really have private tables at events like this, but we could find a quieter group if you want.”

“No, this is fine,” Early said, smiling, their heart racing and their head feeling a little light at the magic of everything around them. “I remember Mr. Hollis and Mr. Plimpton well.”

“Call me Benny,” Benny said, standing as well and taking Early’s hand in greeting to kiss it.

“And I’m just George,” George added, greeting Early similarly.

“George here tells us that your family had an amazing victory over Willoughby Entertainment,” one of the gentlemen at the table said. “A real David and Goliath moment.”

“It was hair-raising,” Rhys said as he guided Early into a seat, then pushed it in for them.

Early was so overwhelmed by the majesty of the room, the ease of the conversation, and the feeling that they had somehow found themself in the perfect place for them that they could barely catch their breath, let alone participate in the conversation around the table. They ordered from a gilt menu when a server came around, then sipped amazingly good wine, though not too much, since the last thing they wanted was to be tipsy for the magical night, and just watched as the evening unfolded.

It wasn’t very date-like to sit at a table with a bunch of older gentlemen, discussing corporate greed and the triumph of the little man, though the Hawthorne family were hardly little men in Early’s eyes, but it was also somehow perfect. For maybe the first time in their entire life, Early felt like they were somewhere they actually belonged, somewhere that it didn’t matter which pronouns they used or how they dressed or grew their hair. They were simply accepted, just as they were.

“Care to dance?” Rhys asked after dessert was served, as the orchestra switched from playing classical music to tunes of the mid-twentieth century that had been composed specifically for people to dance to.

“I don’t really know how,” Early admitted sheepishly.

“Go on,” George elbowed them. “It appears as though you have an eager teacher.” He winked at Rhys.

Early blushed so hard they thought they must look like one of the beets that had been in the amazing salad they’d eaten earlier. They let Rhys help them stand, then escort them to the dance floor, which was quickly filling up with couples of every description.

“How are you managing?” Rhys asked as he slipped his arms around Early in a dance hold. “I debated whether to bring you here because the club can be a little overwhelming.”

“I’m glad you did,” Early replied, their hand trembling a little as it rested on Rhys’s broad shoulder. “I mean, it is completely overwhelming, but it’s also sort of perfect.”

Rhys laughed. “That’s The Brotherhood for you.”

Early smiled. It felt so easy to do. It felt easy to be happy and to just let themself enjoy what was right in front of them without worrying what people thought or if they would attack them in some way.

And it didn’t hurt that Rhys was an excellent dancer. When the orchestra switched from playing a slow song to a faster one, he coached Early through a few simple steps of what must have been swing dancing. Early was terrible at it, but it didn’t seem to matter. Not even the couples on the dance floor who were obviously expert dancers—and they were pretty certain they saw at least one cast member from that super popular ballroom dancing competition show blending in with the others—looked at them with anything other than friendly encouragement.

They were just getting the hang of some of the steps and Rhys had just spun them into a tight embrace as one of the songs ended. Instead of jumping right into the next one, Rhys continued to hold them there. His expression shifted slowly from happiness to something troubled.

Early swallowed hard, wondering if they’d just been buttered up so Rhys could bring the ax down on them when they weren’t expecting it.

“Let’s go find someplace quiet so we can talk,” Rhys said, seeming to confirm those suspicions.

The minute or so it took for Rhys to take their hand and lead them away from the other dancers, through the ballroom, and out to the hall was a terrifying contrast to the joy Early had felt so far that night. They were breathing hard, even though they’d stopped dancing, when Rhys led them into what looked like a private parlor with several sets of loveseats around the room. Rhys chose one under a window that looked out into a back garden that was lit up like a holiday and sat with Early there.

“First off, stop looking like that,” Rhys said with a teasing look. “I’m not going to say anything bad or tell you off or break up with you.”

Early caught their breath. Not breaking up with someone implied they were together in the first place.

“Okay,” they said, trying to force themself to stop shaking.

Rhys took both of their hands and held them still. “I’m sorry, Early,” he said, gazing directly at them. “I wanted to say that again, with no distractions. I’m sorry that I treated you unfairly. And I mean that in every way possible. I’m sorry that I’ve spent all this time telling myself that we couldn’t be together because of our age difference and experience difference and whatever other excuse I was telling myself. I wasn’t giving you enough credit by putting those blocks up. I think I was just scared of losing something good because I’d just lost one of the best things in my life.”

“Raina,” Early said, understanding a lot more now. Their heart was racing, but in a good way.

“I can’t pretend like I actually know what I’m doing,” Rhys went on with a light laugh. “I’ve never really known what I’m doing, even though it looks that way.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing either,” Early admitted. “I definitely didn’t know what I was doing that night I got it in my head to seduce you.”

He was trying to be funny about that night, but Rhys’s face went serious.

“That was a huge mistake.”

The bottom felt like it would fall out of Early’s gut.

“Not being with you,” Rhys rushed to add, which made Early’s insides flutter. Rhys reached out to rest one hand on the side of Early’s face. “I don’t regret sleeping with you, but I do regret how it happened. We should have had a lot more communication before and during.”

Early glanced down, but Rhys’s hand stopped them from lowering their head. “I was an idiot to flaunt myself like that.”

“No, you weren’t,” Rhys insisted. When Early peeked up at him, he went on with, “You were a young, inexperienced person who wanted to learn and follow your instincts.”

“It was my first time,” Early whispered.

“I know. Now,” Rhys said. “I wish I’d known before. I would have done things differently.”

“You must hate me for not telling you,” Early said, unable to raise their voice beyond a whisper.

“I definitely don’t hate you,” Rhys said, stroking his thumb over Early’s cheek.

That small gesture was electric and nearly brought tears to Early’s eyes. “I still don’t know what I’m doing,” they confessed.

“Spoiler alert, but I don’t think anyone actually knows what they’re doing,” Rhys said with a smile. “I don’t know how to live my life without my sister.” Emotion filled his voice. “I struggle every day with her loss, with the way she was taken from us. I was in the car, you know.”

Early nodded. They did know that.

Rhys swallowed, then said, “I should have been driving that night. We’d all gone out to dinner, I’d said I would be the designated driver, but I had a few glasses of wine anyhow. Raina was still breastfeeding, so she didn’t have any, so she took the keys from me. I should have been the one that took the impact.”

Early’s eyes widened. That was new.

“You couldn’t have known,” they said, clasping a hand over Rhys’s. “No one can ever know something like that would happen.”

“I know,” Rhys nodded gravely. “And I’m dealing with that in therapy. Nick basically kicked my ass and told me to talk to my therapist more often, so I’ve started doing that.”

Early smiled, proud of him.

“I talked to her about you as well,” Rhys went on. “About how I think you’re wonderful, how I know I messed up with you, but how I want to try again. I want to see if there’s something here, something we can build on. I know there is.”

Early caught their breath. Their heart suddenly felt too full to say anything.

Rhys gazed hopefully into their eyes. “Do you think there could be something between us?” he asked.

Early blinked rapidly as their eyes stung with potential tears. Never in a million years would they have ever thought someone as wonderful as Rhys would ask them that question. All they could do to answer was to nod.

Rhys smiled. “Good.”

He leaned in, clasping a hand behind Early’s head and bringing their mouths together for a kiss. It wasn’t a sweet, chaste kiss, but it also wasn’t an overwhelming smash of mouths that might make them feel out of control. It was hot and needy, but tender and considerate at the same time.

Early’s eyes were closed so they could savor the bliss of it by the time Rhys rocked back and said, “Come on. Let’s go home.”

They opened their eyes, afraid they’d see the end of their date in Rhys’s expression. But on the contrary, the heat and excitement in Rhys’s eyes hinted that their date had only just gotten started.