queer spirited of all walks of life.
“I know you think you have a good reason for not liking Paddington—”
Paddy! He even had a “bear” name. And Paddington Bear was what everyone delighted in calling him! Aaarrgghhhh!
“—although it’s a reason you refuse to tell me.”
And it was a reason he wasn’t planning on ever telling Billy!
“But, God, Ron. He’s a nice guy. And he’s cute, so—”
Cute? Cute? So the hell what? So what if he was (hot) cute? What did that have to do with anything?
“—can’t you give him a chance? You might find you like the guy.”
Fat chance of that happening.
Fat …. How ironic he used that word.
Ron’s cell phone rang, and when he looked to see who it was, he didn’t recognize the number. He normally wouldn’t answer, but this was the very evening he’d won the presidency of the Heartland Bear Clan. What if it was a member of the club?
He answered the phone with a “Yowza,” and got a happy “Yowza” in return.
God . He recognized the voice immediately. It was Paddy Brennan.
“I just wanted to congratulate you once again,” said Ron’s new partner (and not the good kind of partner). “You deserve it.”
Why yes , Ron thought. Yes I do. Because didn’t he? Hadn’t he worked his butt off for more than five years now? Attending nearly every meeting. Arriving early to help set up. Staying late to help clean up. Volunteering for everything under the sun. Working on every fundraiser. Writing little articles for the local gay news rag about bears and their part of the greater gay community. And plain just wanting the position? Most people didn’t want the job. They just wanted to show up and drink. Heartland was his mission in life.
Billy stared at him, scratched his beard, and raised both eyebrows questioningly.
Say something.
Ron cleared his throat. “Thank you, Paddy.”
“Well, you cleared out pretty early tonight, for a change, and I didn’t really get a chance to talk to you.”
Which, of course, had been on purpose. He’d taken care of everything he’d needed to, gathered up all of Heartland’s stuff, except for the treasurer’s money box and the secretary’s notebook, and gotten Billy and a few others to discreetly help him pack it all into his car (because he hadn’t wanted Paddy’s help, hadn’t wanted so much as a moment alone, or near alone, with the man). His car for the first time—the final sign that he was now president of the Heartland Bear Clan. It seemed like he’d been helping to pack everything into Mel’s car forever. But even the thrill of that little ceremony had been shadowed by Paddy.
“I imagine we’re going to have plenty of time together over the next year,” Ron said, struggling to keep his tone neutral (since he couldn’t make it sound cheerful).
“Year? I’m shooting for us to break Mel’s record!”
Ten years? Over Ron’s dead body!
Paddy chuckled in that way Ron had thought so sexy on the infamous night they met seven months before—a night Ron had told Billy about; he just hadn’t told him Paddy’s name.
“Ten years is a long time,” Ron said instead of what he wanted to say. “I think I’m going to focus on the next year.”
“Sure,” Paddy said. “And I’ve got lots of ideas for what we can do.”
Oh joy. Just what I need. Like I haven’t been making plans of my own for several years now.
“Especially for the big Christmas party,” Paddy continued.
“ Holiday party,” Ron corrected. It had been voted by a slim majority two years ago to change the name of their biggest fundraiser and outreach event. “We want to be inclusive, remember.” He had been part of that. He knew what it was like to be left outside the cliques or the most popular circles, or even not-so-popular circles. He didn’t want anyone in the club to feel that way. The end of the year was about more than Christmas. It was Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Saint Nicholas’s Day, Solstice, and Yule. And they did have
“I know you think you have a good reason for not liking Paddington—”
Paddy! He even had a “bear” name. And Paddington Bear was what everyone delighted in calling him! Aaarrgghhhh!
“—although it’s a reason you refuse to tell me.”
And it was a reason he wasn’t planning on ever telling Billy!
“But, God, Ron. He’s a nice guy. And he’s cute, so—”
Cute? Cute? So the hell what? So what if he was (hot) cute? What did that have to do with anything?
“—can’t you give him a chance? You might find you like the guy.”
Fat chance of that happening.
Fat …. How ironic he used that word.
Ron’s cell phone rang, and when he looked to see who it was, he didn’t recognize the number. He normally wouldn’t answer, but this was the very evening he’d won the presidency of the Heartland Bear Clan. What if it was a member of the club?
He answered the phone with a “Yowza,” and got a happy “Yowza” in return.
God . He recognized the voice immediately. It was Paddy Brennan.
“I just wanted to congratulate you once again,” said Ron’s new partner (and not the good kind of partner). “You deserve it.”
Why yes , Ron thought. Yes I do. Because didn’t he? Hadn’t he worked his butt off for more than five years now? Attending nearly every meeting. Arriving early to help set up. Staying late to help clean up. Volunteering for everything under the sun. Working on every fundraiser. Writing little articles for the local gay news rag about bears and their part of the greater gay community. And plain just wanting the position? Most people didn’t want the job. They just wanted to show up and drink. Heartland was his mission in life.
Billy stared at him, scratched his beard, and raised both eyebrows questioningly.
Say something.
Ron cleared his throat. “Thank you, Paddy.”
“Well, you cleared out pretty early tonight, for a change, and I didn’t really get a chance to talk to you.”
Which, of course, had been on purpose. He’d taken care of everything he’d needed to, gathered up all of Heartland’s stuff, except for the treasurer’s money box and the secretary’s notebook, and gotten Billy and a few others to discreetly help him pack it all into his car (because he hadn’t wanted Paddy’s help, hadn’t wanted so much as a moment alone, or near alone, with the man). His car for the first time—the final sign that he was now president of the Heartland Bear Clan. It seemed like he’d been helping to pack everything into Mel’s car forever. But even the thrill of that little ceremony had been shadowed by Paddy.
“I imagine we’re going to have plenty of time together over the next year,” Ron said, struggling to keep his tone neutral (since he couldn’t make it sound cheerful).
“Year? I’m shooting for us to break Mel’s record!”
Ten years? Over Ron’s dead body!
Paddy chuckled in that way Ron had thought so sexy on the infamous night they met seven months before—a night Ron had told Billy about; he just hadn’t told him Paddy’s name.
“Ten years is a long time,” Ron said instead of what he wanted to say. “I think I’m going to focus on the next year.”
“Sure,” Paddy said. “And I’ve got lots of ideas for what we can do.”
Oh joy. Just what I need. Like I haven’t been making plans of my own for several years now.
“Especially for the big Christmas party,” Paddy continued.
“ Holiday party,” Ron corrected. It had been voted by a slim majority two years ago to change the name of their biggest fundraiser and outreach event. “We want to be inclusive, remember.” He had been part of that. He knew what it was like to be left outside the cliques or the most popular circles, or even not-so-popular circles. He didn’t want anyone in the club to feel that way. The end of the year was about more than Christmas. It was Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Saint Nicholas’s Day, Solstice, and Yule. And they did have
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