We now called Vancouver home. As soon as we arrived at the border seeking permanent residency, Richard phoned his contact with the Vancouver committee that was dedicated to helping Americans, and we were met with open arms.

If I’d thought for one second we’d be alone up here, I was very wrong. There were literally tens of thousands of Americans, just the same as us. Richard basically walked right into a paying job, this time not just helping returned servicemen but also those avoiding the draft and those who wished to start new lives in Canada.

We got an apartment, and just a week or two later, I found work at a telephone company as a business analyst.

And life was good. We called home every so often and Kat had even visited us twice. She’d found herself a new man who wasn’t threatened by her brains and drive for her own career, and they’d stayed a few days with us after their honeymoon.

So yes, life was good. It was easy to forget that I’d been labeled a draft dodger.

The war in Vietnam had technically ended almost two years ago, but the truth was, for some people it would never be over. Richard still had shitty days every now and then; completely out of the blue he’d have nightmares or a movie would have helicopters or gunfire and he’d freeze up.

He was getting better. His leg was almost back to normal, and he didn’t need his cane anymore, though his limp would become more pronounced if he was tired. He wouldn’t be running any marathons, but for the most part, his life was normal.

We’d made good friends here. Our life was here now, and that was perfectly okay with me.

I beat Richard home, so I took Pixie, our three-year-old rescue dog, to the park for a walk. Then I started making dinner when I got back. He still wasn’t home, which was a little odd, so I was relieved when I heard his key in the door.

He came into the kitchen and found me chopping veggies. “Hey,” I said, leaning over for a kiss. “I was wondering where you were.”

He gave my beard a little scratch like he always did. “Have you seen the news?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No, I didn’t turn it on. I walked Pixie and thought I’d make a start on dinner.” I put the knife down and wiped my hands on the dish towel. “Why? What’s up.”

He walked over and pressed the knob on the TV. “President Carter just issued a full pardon to all draftees.”

I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right. “A what?”

“A full pardon. To anyone who fled the country or failed to register.” His smile became a grin. “You’re now free to go home whenever you want. We can go see your folks!”

My head began to swim. I could see my parents…

“Davey’s coming by,” Richard said. “He called just as I was leaving the office. He wants to say goodbye.”

Davey was a young guy who had left the States the day after his eighteenth birthday. Richard had befriended him the day he arrived, and he lived just one block over. He had dinner with us often—he knew we were a couple—and even though he hadn’t said it outright, we were sure he and his buddy John were closer than they let on. There had to be a reason why two younger guys were so comfortable hanging out with an openly gay couple.

Davey was twenty-one now and hadn’t seen his family in three years. With brown floppy hair and innocent eyes, he was a sweet kid, and he reminded me a lot of the Richard I first met in that diner all those years ago. I’d miss his smiling face.

“He’s going home?”

Richard nodded. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

“He misses his family.”

“Yeah. He really does.” Richard’s grin widened. “John’s going with him.”

“He is?”

“Yep.” Richard nodded, and there was a knowing twinge to his smile.

Then right on cue, there was a knock on our door and Richard let him in. Davey patted Pixie first, as he always did. He wore his faded jeans and an old hockey shirt, his hands shoved into his back pockets and a grin on his face. John stood back, a little quieter as he usually was, but smiling nervously.

“Richard says you’re going home,” I said.

He nodded. “Unconditional pardon,” he said. “My mom’s driving up from Idaho. I told her I was coming back, and she was already in the car coming to meet me halfway.”

That made me laugh. He’d been alone when he arrived, and he missed his family so much. “I’m happy for you.”

“Will you go back too?” he asked.

I looked at Richard and smiled. “Our lives are here now.”

Richard smiled right back at me. “Yep. We add U’s and S’s to our words now, and we just need to start watching that stick on ice game…”

“Hockey?”

“That’s it,” Richard said a wink. “Hockey. Then we’ll be true Canadians.”

Davey laughed, then he said, “I just wanted to thank you both. But Richard, you in particular. I’d hate to think what would’ve happened to me if I hadn’t met you.”

“You’re more than welcome,” Richard said. “Oh, I just want to grab something. Hold on.”

Richard disappeared and we watched him go. “You leaving right now?” I asked. “Don’t want to stay for dinner?”

“We can’t. My mom is literally already driving to meet me.”

I laughed. “Well, be safe.”

“I will, thank you. And I mean it, I’m truly grateful for both of you.”

“Anytime,” I said. “And if you ever come back this way, you make sure you come see us, okay?”

He nodded, and Richard came out holding a familiar shoebox. I knew what he was about to do. “I want you to take this,” Richard said. He opened the lid and showed him the Christmas angel ornament. “She’ll look after you like she did me. She was given to me after I left Vietnam, when I got out of the hospital. And I can’t describe it, but she’s special. Like, if you make a wish, she makes it come true.”

Davey looked from the angel to Richard, to me, and back to Richard. “For real?”

He nodded and I smiled at him. “It’s the truth. Look after her, and when you no longer need her, pass her on to someone else who needs a little help.”

“Are you sure?” Davey asked. He gave John a glance and John blushed.

“Absolutely,” Richard said. “I got my wish. Now it’s your turn.”

Davey took the box with a promise to look after it. We wished them both well and made sure Davey had our number. Richard made him promise that if he encountered any issues at the border that he’d call us right away, and with a final round of hugs, we waved them off.

Richard sighed. “They remind me of us,” he said.

“I was just thinking that.”

“Giving the angel to them was the right thing to do, right?”

“I think it was perfect. We don’t need her help anymore, but those two might need a little nudge.”

Richard slid his arms around me, rested his head on my chest, and sighed. “I hope so.” Then he pulled back. “You never did tell me what you wished for that very first Christmas.”

I laughed and gave him a kiss. “And I won’t tell you now.”

“Was it about me?”

“Of course it was.”

“I told you I didn’t make a wish,” he said with a glint in his eye.

“You told me you thanked the angel instead.”

“And that was kind of true.” He shrugged. “But I did wish for something.”

“Shhh,” I said, kissing him so he’d stop talking. “Don’t tell me or it won’t come true.”

“It already has.” He smiled serenely. “It was about you. And forever.”

I chuckled and kissed him again. “Pretty sure that’s what I wished for.”

“This Christmas, we’ll have to find a new angel for the tree.”

“New angel, new wishes.”

He made a thoughtful face. “Nah. My wish has been the same every year. I don’t see it changing any time soon.”

“Mine neither. Just you and forever. That’s all I’ll ever need.”

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