Dave's Longing

          “Mark, one day you and I will be married in this very Gazebo under this very Oak tree in the back yard behind the Great House on the Rambling Acres Horse Ranch.”
         “You’re such a sappy romantic, Parks,” Mark said. “Gay Marriage isn’t even legal. Besides, your father might have destroyed the Gzebo by the time Gays can marry.”
         “Maybe, but knowing my dad, I doubt it. He loves the Gazebo, and it will even better, you’s see. It’ll be enclosed except for the screened in back wall. Ivy will climb up redwood pillars—and under-floor heating beneath the carpeted deck floor will keep it snug during the winter months. And besides, if it’s in the spring or summer, we won’t need heat, and pastor will stand behind a podium, right over here, in front of the screen, and red and white roses on thorny vines will climb up the screen behind him. and we will exchange forever vows. I promise, Dave said, and leaned in to kiss him.


Mark!” Dave called, as he jumped up from the sofa and stood dazed, surveying his surroundings. Within a few seconds, he realized that this was his suite in the hotel, several blocks East of the Smithsonian, neither Mark nor his father was there, even Mark's father had gone home. They would be on their way back to New York City by now. He hadn’t had this dream in almost a year. No, that wasn’t quite true, but tonight’s dream had been so vivid, especially the way it had ended. He and Mark had been standing in the Gazebo, but rather than lovesick teenagers, they had been grown men, it had been winter, and they'd exchanged vows in front family and friends. Everyone had been there, even Sonny and his wife, Jeanne, and yet, he hadn't known Sonny, at that time, and the kids hadn't ever been thought of yet. And the Gazebo had looked just he had described it to Mark on his birthday all years ago. He sighed.
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