Chapter Fifteen

Jimmy

 

Cole and I arrived at Agenda bright and early on Jimmymas morning. The last day and a half had gone by in a whirlwind of sex and preparation for the big event at Agenda. I couldn’t believe it was already my birthday; it felt like only a few hours ago that we’d reconciled.

I hadn’t thought I’d feel any different when I hit twenty-one, but a weight had lifted off my shoulders. It had less to do with my birthday than it did with the people I would be spending my the day with, but I had officially entered a new phase of my life. This was my era of adulthood, and I was diving into it with the best company anyone could imagine.

The ground was coated with snow, but the sky was blue and the sun was shining upon us. Colorful banners and posters papered the exterior of the coffeehouse with the offer of free hospitality, free food, and free hot drinks.

My name was written everywhere. I’d never been so sheepish and charmed at the same time. I had spent every one of my birthdays wanting something like this, dreaming of it so hard it hurt.

Inside Agenda, all the tables had been pushed aside, and there were sleeping bags all over the floor. Last night, Seth and Zane had opened the coffee shop as a shelter for the LGBTQIA+ community. It was heart-wrenching to see how many people had shown up — the place was packed — and especially how many were younger than me and Cole. I wasn’t nearly as alone as I thought, and I was still luckier than a lot of these people.

Seth was busy making hot cocoa behind the counter, but Zane came to greet us as soon as we walked in.

“Aw, you’re not wearing your costume!” he said with an exaggerated pout.

“Never again,” I said. “It’s going straight back to the costume store tomorrow.”

“But-” said Cole with a cheeky smile. “I do have something to remember St. Jimmy by.”

“Cole…” What was he planning?

“Merry Jimmymas,” said Cole. He took a folded up piece of paper out of his pocket and taped it to the espresso machine. I looked at it, aghast. It was the photo Talal had taken of Cole on my lap that first day he’d come to bring me my coffee at MerryMart. I looked awful — for one thing, red was not my color, and that suit didn’t flatter anyone. But my smile was genuine Jimmy, not phony Santa. I was looking at Cole with unbridled affection. I guess I’d never really been as over him as I thought I was.

“Merry Jimmymas,” said Zane with a smirk.

“Did you have to put that photo up?” I teased Cole.

“I can take it down if you’re really uncomfortable with it.”

“No,” I said. “It’s fine.” It was kind of cute.

“Guys, this is Jimmy,” Zane introduced me to the room. “It’s his birthday today.”

“That must suck,” winced a kid who couldn’t have been older than twelve.

“Jimmy, this is Tamara,” said Zane.

“Hello,” the kid said shyly to me. Then she turned back to Zane. “Can I please have another hot cocoa?”

“Sure thing,” said Zane. “Do you want me to get Seth to give you extra marshmallows?”

She nodded fervently. The excitement in her eyes just about broke my heart.

“Talk to you later,” Zane called over his shoulder to me as he led Tamara away.

When Seth and Zane opened up Agenda on Christmas Eve, they knew what clientele they’d be getting. I had prepared myself for it as well, but the haunted eyes were still a lot to handle. I’d never felt so in control of my own life — and I was only a couple of years older than some of these beaten down kids. This wasn’t a fair world. I was glad we had the chance to make it a little fairer.

I huddled in the corner with Cole at first, awkward about interacting with strangers, but it didn’t take long until he started talking to the guests as well. He used that classic Cole charm to make them smile, and after a while, I was smiling and joking with them too. Maya, Topher, and Dean arrived together in a group half an hour after we did.

When Seth brought out a large box of colorfully wrapped presents that had been donated by Agenda’s patrons, everyone cheered.

“Everyone can take one gift,” he explained. “And if you don’t like what you get, feel free to trade amongst yourself.”

There was enough in the box that everyone ended up getting two, and there were still a few more presents left.

I’d never been into the spirit of gift-giving. In my household, gifts were an excuse to judge each other’s taste. But this was totally different. Even though most of the gifts were small and cheap — socks, food, cute trinkets — everyone was genuinely thankful for what they got. The room filled with laughter and happy voices.

And I was among them. I was happier than I’d ever been. I had amazing friends. I had a wonderful boyfriend. Life was good. There was a lot still to think about (my job, for example), but for now, I could sink into this moment and enjoy myself.

As the morning went on, more and more visitors showed up at Agenda — these were the queer folk who weren’t homeless, but if not for today, they would be alone. Just like me. An orphan’s Christmas indeed. I had invited Talal and his son along, but he’d told me they were spending a quiet day at home on the 25th, so I wasn’t surprised when they never showed. Now that work at MerryMart was over, I made up my mind that I would try and stay in touch to Talal. He didn’t have many friends either.

I saw my own pain reflected in the faces of people at Agenda today, but there were smiles too — more than I thought possible, and plenty were coming from me.

This was a room full of people who wanted to be there for each other. We were all outsiders in one way or another. But in here, we were safe, warm, and accepted. The room was full of love, and it was enough to make my heart burst. Was this what regular people experienced every Christmas? Had my parents felt this way, except for me being in the way?

I supposed that was the difference. Nobody was in the way here, because nobody’s identity was wrong here. You could be lesbian, gay, bi, trans, ace, anything you wanted to be here. As long as you weren’t a bigot.

“You look lost in thought,” said Cole. He took a seat next to me where I was staring out at the room and passed me a drink. “Surprise.”

“A hot drink?” I raised my eyebrows. “You’re a barista. That’s not a surprise.”

“Is too,” he said. “I have perfected the gingerbread latte.”

I took a tentative sip. It was surprisingly good, better than the drink I’d pined over down the road from this place, and on par with the latte I’d had on my first date with Cole. I took a sip and was transported with nostalgia.

“It’s good.”

“Okay, I lied,” he said. “I just bought some gingerbread syrup. It took no work at all to perfect.”

I laughed and kissed him. “Well, I appreciate it anyway. There’s something I need to confess, too.”

“What?” He looked suddenly alarmed.

“When you told me you were falling in love with me two days ago, I didn’t say anything.” My heart was pounding, and my voice came out hoarser than I anticipated. “That’s because I’m not falling in love with you, Cole. I’m in love with you already.” By the time I’d finished talking, my face was on fire. I couldn’t believe I’d said that. Put everything on the line like that. My emotions were supposed to be a closely guarded secret, but I couldn’t keep this to myself anymore. I was so full of love I was about to burst.

I met Cole’s eyes tentatively. His expression was so tender he looked like he might melt.

“Thank God,” he said. “I didn’t want to come on too strong- But… Same.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He grinned and cupped my chin with his forefingers, pulling me in gently for a kiss that quickly swelled to passionate heights. Our mouths ebbed and flowed like the ocean, pushing into each other and pulling away only to crash closer again, unable to stay apart.

“Gay!” Dean yelled across the room at us.

“Gaaay!” Topher yelled after him.

Everyone was laughing, and there was a gingerbread latte in my hand, the air smelled like peppermint and cinnamon, and tinsel glittered on the walls, just like Christmas.

But this wasn’t Christmas. It was Jimmymas, and all that glitter was rainbow colored. I wasn’t surrounded by a judgemental family, and even though we had a wide smorgasbord of free food out for everyone, I wasn’t forced to politely eat fruitcake.

I was surrounded by my new found family, and I was sipping a gingerbread latte.

Outside, it had clouded over, and it was starting to rain, but in here, I was cozy, warm, safe, and loved. I had never known there were so many types of love before, but I was feeling them all. Love for my community. Love for my friends — who were becoming my family. And, of course, love for Cole.

I cleared my throat. “Hey, everyone!”

“What are you doing, Jimmy?” asked Cole.

“I’m not sure.” I grinned, knowing I was blushing wildly. “I’m not much of a musician, but I like to play guitar. And considering how many Christmas carols there are out there for cis, straight people, and how they’re all terrible-”

The room cheered.

“-I thought I’d make a terrible Christmas carol for all of us queers,” I finished.

“You’re gonna perform?” asked Cole. “But you hate playing in front of people.”

“I made up this song in fifteen minutes while you were in the shower last night,” I told him. “If I don’t take it seriously, how can I go wrong?”

“I’m proud of you,” said Cole.

My mouth had gone dry, but it was time to face my fears. I’d been forced to play the violin for too many Christmases. Now I was choosing to play guitar.

Zane brought me my guitar from where I had been storing it in his van, and I surveyed the audience. The room was packed, and everyone was looking at me. From smiling strangers to my very own cheering friends.

And standing right next to me was my boyfriend. Cole. The man I loved. I strummed the guitar.

“It’s called Jolly Gay Holiday.”