Chapter 19: Mutual Respect

Johnny carried his husband up the hayloft ladder over one shoulder, which was not dignified.

Nobody on the porch said a word.

He set him down in the straw by the open loft door and shut the hatch with his boot.

The yard noise dropped to a hum.

He stood there with his chest heaving.

Daniel looked up at him from the straw, with his shirt untucked and his hair full of dust.

Johnny had planned a speech.

He had planned it for six days, in the trench, with the spade.

All of it went out of his head.

"Sit up," he said.

Daniel sat up.

"I have one condition."

"Name it."

"You don't pay me." Johnny dragged a hand through his hair.

"Not with shares, or the company, or a car, or anything with your name on it. Not to stay, and not to say sorry."

"Johnny..."

"I'm not done." His voice cracked and he let it.

"Our grandmothers arranged this. I came because they asked."

He breathed.

"I thought, I can do a month of a lonely rich man who needs lifting in and out of a bath."

Daniel flinched.

"I stayed for something else. I want you to know what."

"What?"

"It was a Tuesday. You watered the tomato and stood there with your thumb dirty, counting to three. I thought, oh. He's going to try."

He swallowed.

"So here's the condition. Mutual respect. I don't want your money or your power."

He met Daniel's eyes.

"I don't want to be the man you're grateful to. I want to be the man you ask, and who asks you back, and who you can tell no."

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