The next morning arrived quickly, as the alarm clock adjacent to their bed forced Maxwell to jolt awake from the sweet sleep he’d found himself in. With his left arm slightly tucked under the weight of Durango’s naked body, Max attempted to reach over to quiet the alarm. He couldn’t quite reach, but within moments, Durango’s eyes quivered open.
“Babe, would you get that?”
Durango lifted his left arm around the back of his head and fumbled his fingers until he could find the off switch to the alarm. Maxwell felt rested, but most of all, at a total peace. Once the chirp silenced, Maxwell brushed the back of his right hand against his older man’s clean-shaven cheek. He leaned in closer to smell the sweet aroma of Durango’s light perspiration, after their night full of hot steamy sex. Max stared quietly into Durango’s gaze which caught a subtle glare from the rising sun through the window.
“Happy wedding day, my love,” Durango gently whispered, running his left hand across Maxwell’s backside.
Max smiled. “Happy wedding day, babe. I am the luckiest man in the world.”
***
Within a handful of hours, the entire backyard had filled with dozens of tables and chairs, décor, and a small stage with throngs of musical equipment and instruments. Marilyn and Melanie worked dutifully the entire morning to get things set up, ordering the caterer’s staff around preparing for the perfect day. In a matter of another couple hours, guests would be arriving from different parts of the world to witness Maxwell Florian Williams wed the new man of his dreams, the one whom destiny brought his way to continue watching after him and Lily—Durango Adam Walters.
Both men finished their last-minute preparations as Josiah Baxter found his way upstairs holding a small black velvet box. Maxwell greeted him through the reflection of his full-length mirror in the corner of his walk-in closet.
Max smiled. “Mr. Baxter,” he said, turning his head. “It means so much to me that you both could be here today.”
Josiah reached his arm out and placed his hand on Maxwell’s shoulder. “You’re just like a son, and I’m so grateful we are as close as we are now. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Me too, Brogan would be so happy,” he replied, glancing back into the mirror, straightening his gold silk bowtie.
“Speaking of, where is Durango?” Josiah asked, looking around the room.
Max continued to fuss with his frenzied strands of hair that always seemed to stick out of place. “He’s down the hallway in one of the guest bedrooms,” he replied. “He should, anyway.”
“Fantastic,” Mr. Baxter stated, preparing to walk out towards the hallway. He turned around again, smiling. “I am proud of you, Maxwell.”
Nothing made Maxwell happier, well maybe the fact he was about to marry one of the few nicest guys he ever knew in his life, than the fact his relationship with Josiah and Yael grew into what it did. He never imagined in a million years speaking with them, let alone feeling like one their sons. Maxwell brushed off a small piece of lint from his burgundy dress shirt while taking another quick once-over in the mirror.
In a hushed tone, he began to talk aloud, even though nobody else was in the room. “Thank you for being such a great part of my life. And for continuing to grace me with your eternal protection.”
As he looked at his dapper style in the mirror, Max was happy with the color scheme he and Durango agreed on. Very suitably, their wedding palette consisted of burgundy, gold, and white. First, because of the obvious symbolic deep color to signify Brogan’s strong presence. Second, to display the wealth of each man’s affection for one another. And lastly white tuxedos, because of its inherent qualities of new beginnings.
***
Durango finished tucking in the bottom of his shirt into his pants, before sliding his belt through the loops and fastening it together around his waist. As his head lifted back up into the rectangular mirror which attached to a long dresser, he felt the presence of someone approaching from behind, making themselves apparent through the mirror. There behind him, Josiah Baxter stood holding out the small black velvet box.
“This is for you, Durango,” Josiah affirmed, handing it to Durango.
Durango turned around to reach for it with a look of confusion. “Well thank you, sir.”
“I wanted you to have these,” Mr. Baxter continued. “Go ahead, open it up.”
As instructed, Durango lifted the lid on the box, listening to small creak it made as the hinges rubbed against each other. It was apparent this must have had some age to it. The bedroom light glistened into the shine of two gold star shaped cufflinks. Since he’d joined Maxwell back in January, leaping into the Jewish faith, he recognized they were actually formed into the Star of David.
Durango admired them, noting how beautiful they were. He knew that marrying into a small fortune would bring some shiny objects into his world for what would pretty much be the first time in his life, but he never imagined the first of his collection wouldn’t be from Maxwell.
“They’re so shiny, sir,” he said. “Thank you so much.”
Josiah grinned from cheek to cheek. “My son gave me these for Father’s Day, the first year he graduated medical school,” he said. “I’ve had them for many years,” he added, scratching at his temple. “But when Yael and I found out the very thing keeping you alive,” Josiah paused, appearing to keep from crying—and obviously failing.
Mr. Baxter started back up, “is the first gift he gave back to the world upon his exit,” he paused, wiping away the rush of tears from under his tired eyes. “And that man—you—were about to marry the man whom he first married,” pausing again, to take a breath. “I felt like I was about to get a piece of my son back.”
“Awww, Mr. Baxter,” Durango placed the box on top of the dresser, so he could console Brogan’s father. “That is such a nice thing to say,” he replied. “I will take great care of these, Mr. Baxter.”
“Dad,” Josiah replied quickly. “You can call me Dad if you’d like,” he said, drying his eyes with a handkerchief in his grasp. “I consider Maxwell just like a son, and you are certainly considered no less.”
Josiah stepped over to sit at the edge of the guest bed. Durango turned back around, taking the box with his left hand. “Alright… Dad,” he paused, thinking of how sentimental this was to him, provided that neither of his parents had been gone for many years. “Would you like to do the honors?” he offered, propping up his left arm and passing the cufflinks from his right hand to Josiah.
Mr. Baxter’s face lit up. “Thank you, I shall,” he replied, taking the shimmery gold tokens and affixed them to end both of Durango’s sleeves.
Durango returned to the mirror where his white tuxedo jacket hung freely from the door hook of an adjacent closet. While Durango licked his fingers and ran it through his salt and peppered tresses, Josiah Baxter stood from the bed and retrieved the final piece to Durango’s suit from the hanger. He carefully shoved his arms into their respective holes while pulling the jacket over his shoulders, affixing the buttons. He adjusted his golden bowtie and smiled jovially at his reflection in the mirror.
“Well,” he said, looking back at Mr. Baxter. “Let’s get this show on the road, eh?”