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Real-estate queens

After eight years of running their own business, spouses Constance Cervone, 47, and Janet Deegan, 49, have figured out the secret to success: ground rules. The Jamaica Plain couple, who manage a real-estate outfit for Coldwell Banker Residential Brokerage, always close up shop by 9 p.m. They spend one day a week apart to maintain some space in the relationship. And they never, ever bring business into the bedroom — not a phone call, not an e-mail. Not even a conversation about the next day’s tasks. As Cervone puts it, "The bedroom is sacred ground."

Such guidelines have helped them survive the occasional managerial clash — a vital precaution, since, as Deegan explains, "We are both control freaks and strong personalities." But what has kept the two together for more than a decade is pure chemistry, an attraction that sparked the moment they met. Back in 1990, when they were two single brokers, Deegan walked into the real-estate office where Cervone worked. Her head down, huddled over her desk, Cervone took an instant liking to the sound of Deegan’s voice. It seemed so strong, so sultry and inviting. "Something about [Janet’s] essence felt like it struck my heart," Cervone remembers. When she looked up and saw Deegan, she says, "The earth moved."

Deegan, for her part, felt similarly drawn to Cervone’s verve, her passion and spirit fitting for a woman of Italian descent. The day would mark the start of a lengthy, two-year courtship. In 1992, the couple finally went on their first date and attended the annual Gay Pride Parade, where they danced the route, stuck to each other’s hips. Says Cervone, "The magic had started." At the time, Deegan had just joined Cervone’s JP real-estate firm, and the two were stationed in back-to-back chairs in the small Centre Street office. The energy between them was palpable. The two hadn’t even exchanged a kiss yet, says Cervone, "and people would come over and say, ‘What is going on here? It’s so intense.’"

"It was unrequited love," Deegan says.

"It was chemistry," Cervone adds.

On June 13, the couple will celebrate their 12-year anniversary, which is when they originally intended to get hitched. But on May 14, three days before gay marriage became legal in the Bay State, they decided they couldn’t wait. They had purchased wedding rings and written their vows. So over the next three days, they found a caterer, ordered dishes, bought champagne, hired musicians, and sent as many as 65 invitations to a spontaneous May 17 wedding. On that day, they applied for a marriage license at Boston City Hall, and received a waiver of the state’s mandatory three-day waiting period. They held their nuptials that afternoon.

With all the hype surrounding the state’s first gay weddings, the reality of their own marriage hasn’t quite hit them yet. Still, they credit their new legal status for some changes between them. Deegan, for instance, has noticed that she’s "tried to be more open-hearted with Connie" over the past week. "If getting married did that," she says, "that’s great."

Cervone, too, sees herself as a new woman. "I’ve felt more relaxed, more at ease." She then adds, "We feel incredibly grateful to be alive in this time and in this place."

Full-fledged citizens

It wasn’t so long ago that Cambridge newlyweds Chuck Colbert and Troy Golladay had their share of heated arguments about same-sex marriage. For one thing, Golladay, 36, a marketing manager for Hallmark Cards, didn’t quite believe that gay men and lesbians would be allowed to marry. For another, he didn’t quite believe that civil marriage — as "American" as apple pie and baseball — represented a step forward for the gay community.

"It was a bumpy road for us to decide to get married," he says. "There was a time when I told Chuck, ‘Sure,’ yet I was thinking, ‘It’ll never happen.’"

Eventually, of course, Golladay came to see the error of his ways. He recognized how unfair and discriminatory it was for him and Colbert, a 49-year-old freelance writer, to be forced to pay for separate health plans and file separate tax returns. He saw how important civil-marriage benefits can be for a secure family life. At first, Colbert explains, "He thought I was out of my mind." In the end, Golladay realized that he was.

So last Thursday, the couple made their union official. They picked up their marriage license at Cambridge City Hall that morning, and proceeded to the Sullivan Chamber, where City Clerk Margaret Drury performed the nuptials. Golladay’s mother flew in from Arizona and Colbert’s came from Pennsylvania to witness the occasion. By the time the men had exchanged vows, rings, and a kiss, they were choking back tears. Says Colbert, "To feel affirmed and to have the death knell of discrimination lifted, it was quite a moment."

Their May 20 wedding marked the culmination of five years together. They met on Patriots’ Day in 1999, while watching the Boston Marathon. Two days later, Golladay sent Colbert flowers in honor of his birthday. "That’s when I knew," Colbert says. He didn’t doubt his instinct even when their first date ended in minor disaster. After rollerblading along Memorial Drive, Golladay developed such a bad case of blisters that he had to visit his doctor. "I had to run and get Epsom salts and all this stuff for his feet," Colbert recalls. It was a memorable day, to say the least.

At the time, Golladay had yet to come out as a gay man to his family. But the more he got to know Colbert, the more he yearned to tell his relatives about him. Within months, he flew to Arizona to break the news about his homosexuality — and his new love. His family, members of the Mormon Church, didn’t hesitate to embrace the relationship. As Golladay fondly remembers, "I had one aunt in particular who said, ‘I’m glad someone in this family is having sex.’"

Because most of their relatives could not attend the May 20 nuptials, the couple is now planning an October wedding reception at the Museum of Fine Arts. The gala affair will feature a ceremony blending Golladay’s Mormon and Colbert’s Catholic traditions, as well as a dinner party. "It’ll be a dramatic occasion," Colbert promises.

In the meantime, the two are basking in the drama of the first full week of gay marriages in Massachusetts. For the first time, they feel as though they are insiders, part of the club, protected by the law. It’s a great feeling to have.

"In-deed," Colbert says, "it feels good to finally be a Massachusetts citizen!"

Kristen Lombardi can be reached at klombardi[a]phx.com