Chapter 122

He did have a different present for Justin, one that involved a signed copy of the amazingly rare Dylan Morrison memoir; but he also had a few other ideas, or he was starting to.

He checked the time—Justin would be back early; they had some decisions to make about the seating arrangements—and made more tea, because Earl Grey fortification would be necessary to sort out the tangle of musicians and friends and Justin’s extensive and elaborate Filipino family and demonic relatives who might or might not teleport in. He made coffee too, and got out some cheese and bread, because his future husband would, as usual, be hungry.

* * * *

The invitation stationery they agreed on was mostly white, but had shimmery crimson ink, and delicate music notes interwoven with flames. They’d looked at a few other designs, samples, ideas; this one had been the one. The only option. On the spot.