“Okay,” I said, “let’s do it.”
Gabriel smiled at me and kissed my cheek. Then he pulled his phone from his pocket and said, “I’m going to call Sawyer and thank him.”
While he placed the call, I opened a door at the back of the apartment. It led to a landing that was maybe eight feet by ten and an exterior stairwell, which meant we could come and go from our apartment without cutting through the warehouse. Our apartment. I whispered, “Holy shit.”
When Gabriel joined me on the landing a few minutes later, he said, “Sawyer is thrilled. He was really worried we’d say no, and it seems like it meant a lot to be able to do this for us.” He looked around and added, “Check out this great deck! Let’s put a porch swing out here.”
“Definitely. Hey, come look at what I discovered.” I climbed up on the railing around the landing, then leaned way over to the right and said, “We have a view of the Golden Gate Bridge.”
I hopped down, and Gabriel climbed up and repeated what I’d done. Then he stepped off the railing and smiled at me as he said, “This place just gets better and better.”
I pulled him into my arms and said, “We have a home, Gabriel. A real, honest-to-goodness home.”
“It’s amazing, isn’t it? How did I get so lucky?”
“By being a kind, wonderful person with friends who adore you, that’s how.”
He kissed me before saying, “Let’s take a few photos so we can show people our fantastic new apartment, and then we should get on the road.” I started by climbing back on the railing, leaning way over, and snapping a picture of our view.
Once we’d finished taking some pictures of the apartment and warehouse, we locked up behind us, then climbed back in the moving van. Gabriel rolled down his window and snapped another picture of the front of the building, and then I asked, “All set?”
“Yup. Let’s take the 101 instead of highway five to Southern California, okay?”
I put on my seatbelt and started the engine as I asked, “Are you sure? It’ll add a little time.”
“I know, but this way I can introduce you to my mom.”
When I turned to look at him, he grinned at me, and I stammered, “Oh wow. Really?”
“It’s high time, don’t you think? I mean, we’re shacking up together, so this is the next logical step.”
“Sure. Absolutely. Um…how do you think this’ll go, exactly?”
“It’ll probably be awkward,” he said. “She’s met plenty of my friends, but never a boyfriend. I think it’s going to throw her for a loop. She knows I’m gay, but it’s one thing to think of that as an abstract concept, and another thing entirely to meet the man I’m in love with.”
“Does she know we’re coming?”
“Yeah, I called her yesterday. She’s making us lunch, so we should try to get there by noon. It’s just east of Monterey, so it should only take us about two hours.”
I asked, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“Because you look terrified right now, and I didn’t want you to have to worry about it for twenty-four hours.”
“That was a good call, actually.” I started driving, and when his phone beeped a couple of minutes later, I asked, “Is that her?”
“No, she hates texting. This message is from Tracy. He’s decided to move back to San Francisco and is asking if I know anyone who needs a roommate.” Gabriel sat up straighter and exclaimed, “I just had the best idea!”
As he sent a text, I said, “Nothing against Tracy, but you didn’t tell him he could live with us in our new apartment without bedroom walls, did you?”
“No, I had a much better idea.” When his phone beeped, he grinned and said, “My plan is coming together.” He sent a few more messages before turning to me and saying, “I just convinced Roger to rent his spare bedroom to Tracy. This is so perfect! Roger needs a project, and what could be better than bringing a sulky, ex-military hottie out of his shell? I can see them falling in love and getting married.”
“Or they could end up killing each other, since they both seem like alpha males with strong personalities who are used to being in charge.”
He thought about that before saying, “Okay, so the odds are pretty much fifty-fifty. But if it goes the way I hope it will, two people who mean a lot to me will both be happy.” I appreciated his optimism.
Shortly before noon, we pulled up in front of an apartment building in the small farming community of Martinsville. It was a plain, two-story structure with eight units on the bottom and eight on the second floor, along a narrow balcony. It was off by itself at the end of a cracked asphalt road, surrounded by fields that had once grown crops but now grew weeds.