Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“Well, you said it without the part about wanting us to be together, so the context was a bit unclear.”
“Oh.”
Of course he wanted to be with Bram. Bram loved him.
But Bram was currently looking at him like he had still failed to supply critical information.
“Where’d you get the couch?”
“I found it at that weird antique store off Main Street. On a tip from Mrs. Lundy.”
Zachary nodded. It was a nice couch. Not his style, but it suited Bram with its soft neutrals and deep cushions.
“Um, so, if the plan is that you’re going to try and quit your job once you have a, uh, a savings plan in place, can I show you something?” Bram asked.
“Sure.”
Bram took out his phone and opened Instagram.
“I thought you didn’t have an Instagram?”
“I don’t. I just looked up some stuff. Oh, here. Okay. There’s this whole hashtag for independent architects and they post what they’re working on. I thought you might want to check it out. Some of the designs they post gain visibility and get commissioned to be built.”
Zachary pshawed. It was cute when amateurs and students shared their work, but you didn’t get structures built through Instagram.
“I know it’s not your usual thing,” Bram allowed. “But official channels aren’t always the only way to effect change. You’re used to having the firm as your liaison between design and execution, but that’s not the only way it works. Not anymore. Here, look.”
He scrolled through and tapped on a post. “This design was just constructed in Philadelphia. It’s a low-income apartment complex with an exterior that looks like a larger version of the surrounding houses and has a communal courtyard and garden in the center that all the apartments look into.”
Zachary peered at the design. It was cheeky and clever, the turn-of-the-century West Philadelphia duplex style scaled up to look like a world for giants. It was set back from the sidewalk so it wouldn’t shade out the houses around it, and to encourage socializing in front of the building. The courtyard had zones of privacy due to the layout of hedges and benches, allowing it to function as a communal space while giving individuals a sense of ownership over the space.
It was truly lovely.
“This got built by posting it on Instagram?”
“Well, I think she posted it on Instagram because that’s what her account is about, and found a community of people doing this kind of work and also looking for it.”
“And you looked at this for me?”
“Yeah, of course for you. I want you to be able to keep designing your amazing buildings and I wanted to show you that working at a firm isn’t the only way you can do that.”
Zachary’s mind was spinning. He’d never considered that he could do the work he loved outside the official capacity of a firm. Once, he would have dismissed the notion out of hand because he needed the structure and predictability that a firm provided.
Recently, though, he’d realized that he didn’t have quite the same feelings he once did. More and more often, he’d been deviating from the structure he created for himself and it had been fine. More and more often, he’d thought about the future and felt curious about uncertainty rather than terrified. And when he traced it back to see when it had started...?
It had started with Bram. Lovely, sweet, kind, freewheeling Bram, who’d asked him to take twenty minutes off in the middle of the day to see the Purcells’ surprise at their prank. Who’d pushed him gently and supportively to meet his family, even when he didn’t know what was going on.
Who was always there, as strong and steady as a tree, showing Zachary over and over that no matter what changed or went wrong, he would still be there. Now, Zachary thought, he could weather outside uncertainty because at the end of the day he’d come home to Bram.
Bram started to say something but stopped when he looked at Zachary.
Zachary looked directly into his eyes. “I love you,” he said, as firmly and clearly as he could.
Bram blinked and then his eyes filled with tears. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, I—”
But Bram had grabbed him and clutched him like a teddy bear before he could explain his reasons.
He guessed maybe Bram already knew them anyway.
Zachary Glass had worshipped his sister. Her intelligence, her independence, her creativity, her take-no-shit attitude, her insistence on authenticity. In fact, Bram reminded him of her. He found himself thinking, as he nuzzled into Bram’s strong shoulder, that wherever she was or wasn’t, Sarah would approve of Bram. He thought she’d approve of his recent choice too—to take the path of creative freedom rather than one of banal safety. Maybe he even had enough of her take-no-shit attitude to thrive on that path.
But one thing he knew: he would not have to walk down it alone.