The Right Thing Easy

by Laina Villeneuve

  I wished that I’d been able to just walk out of my office when I’d told Candy that my current life didn’t include her. Instead I had let her fan the flames of all my insecurities. I rewound my life, playing out the scenario of coming home from the college early to wrap Hope in my arms. We would have laughed at Candy’s attempt to win back a heart that already belonged to Hope. Instead of shielding the garden of our love from the storm of my ex, I had opened it up to the full gale, my doubts pelting like hail what I thought I was so carefully cultivating. I was too scared to survey the damage and see if there was anything worth salvaging.

  I should have asked Candy to leave Chummy. I missed her soft fur and her absolute loyalty, even when I was an idiot. Hearing Gabe’s boots on the drive, I regretted not scuttling up to my place to think in private. I hadn’t necessarily wanted to be alone, but I didn’t really want to talk either.

  He grabbed the feed wheelbarrow and started loading it up without a word.

  “Were you at the club last night?”

  “Yeah,” he answered without emotion. “I don’t envy you this mess.”

  “She talked about me, then?”

  “She never mentioned you by name, but there aren’t too many new female professors up at the college this year. I hear you’d already outed yourself, though.”

  “Good timing,” I agreed, feeling vastly more tired knowing that Candy had been talking at the bar about my future. Irony came in and sat next to me, asking if Candy’s nonapologetic, in-your-face approach of announcing our relationship was still one of the things I loved about her.

  “Must be nice to be you, all these pretty ladies to choose from.”

  “Shut up,” I groused, not in the mood to be teased.

  “Is it like she says, that you’re leaving at the end of the semester?”

  Because he’d teased me, I let the question sit between us long enough he had to figure my answer was yes. I was more touched than I could express when I saw the openness of his expression move to disappointment and had to come clean. “No. I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to be in that back house so long, your parents are going to regret the day you let me rent it.”

  Relief poured over his face. “That means you and Hope…”

  “I don’t know,” I said quickly and honestly. “I put a lot on the table that I can’t take back.”

  “See, that’s the advantage of being a guy. When you don’t say anything, there’s nothing to regret.”

  “That’s not completely true. You’re the one who said that she’s as likely to leave the church as I am to go straight.”

  “Hey, now. That’s not fair. I didn’t know she was gay back then.”

  “That makes a difference?”

  “Of course it does.”

  “How does that change anything?”

  He ran his hand around the back of his neck, scratching at his short hair. “Nope. I got nothing.”

  “Seriously? You think you can take back something I’ve been hung up on for months just like that?” Maybe it was that he’d known Hope longer than I had, but his opinion mattered to me.

  “It’s just a feeling I have. The two of you just make sense together. The one who just left? I can see you’ve got rodeo in common, but you don’t match.”

  I studied him. “That’s what your mother said, isn’t it? Y’all’ve been spying on me?”

  He shrugged defensively. “I told you guys don’t talk, but you keep asking me questions. Mom says you and Hope match. She also said to remind you of how you sometimes hold on too long.”

  “Lifelong problem of mine,” I grumbled, recalling the story from my youth, again realizing that if I had let go of the branch at the right time, I wouldn’t have been left dangling above the rocks that stung when I landed on them.

  “She said you’re to come to supper.”

  “Is there going to be a serving of advice?”

  “You could tell her you’re allergic.”

  I laughed at that, finally. It was good to be reminded that I had a beautiful support system in Gabe and his family. No matter what happened, they’d be there to catch me, comfort me when I fell, as I was sure to do.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Hope sat between Halley and Harrison, family stretched out on both sides of them. Hyrum sat down the row on the other side of Halley, his wife in between, fussing with the bonnet that refused to stay on her infant daughter’s head. Harrison’s carrot-topped three-year-old son sat quietly next to him, both his spirit and image with his dad’s round face and cleft chin. Harrison’s wife generously shared their baby with Hope and Halley. The two stroked the three-month-old’s soft auburn hair and marveled at her tiny fingers as Hope held her. They looked like a family unit. So much bound them together, and she longed to belong to them fully.

  With the distraction of her perfect little nieces and nephew, she didn’t feel the scrutiny she’d sensed or perhaps imagined the last time she’d attended church with Halley and her father. He sat up on the stand, intent on the service, and Hope knew that he was grateful to have his entire family in attendance. His sons had traveled north from Chico and Sacramento to honor their parents’ wedding anniversary, a date that had lost none of its significance after their mother passed.

  She was so absorbed in thinking about her parents’ marriage from the new angle provided by Mrs. Wheeler that the trays carrying the sacrament surprised her. Halley raised her eyebrows in question when Hope didn’t reach for the handle. Knowing that in the church’s teaching, she was not worthy of the sacrament, she shifted her gaze to Harrison. Barely missing a beat, he took the tray from Halley.

  The sacrament continued. When the water tray followed, Harrison’s hand was faster, and Hope absorbed that she had not for a moment thought about what others would think if they saw her skip the sacrament. Abstaining felt as right to her as sitting arm to arm with her siblings did, and nothing else mattered.

  Her father was speaking second. Hope quickly tuned out the first, sharing a subtle rolling of eyes with Halley when it became obvious that it was what they dubbed a travelmony, an unfocused list of details with no point, no reflection to offer insight about faith or the gospel.

  When her father rose, she unconsciously sat up straight. That one of her family’s most important days coincided with Candy coming back into Dani’s life felt like signs she should heed despite the way Mrs. Wheeler had poo-pooed her for thinking so.

  “This is a special day for me and my family,” her father began, smiling at each of his children in turn. “This year would have marked thirty-five years of marriage to my beautiful Joy. Every year when our anniversary falls, I think of Nephi’s words. In Fourth Nephi, we read, ‘And they were married, and given into marriage, and were blessed according to the multitude of the promises which the Lord had made unto them.’ When we are married in the temple, we are married for time and all eternity. The mirrors that multiply our image a countless number of times illustrate how at each stage of our life, our beloved will be there with us. Though she left me far too early, I am comforted knowing we will be reunited.”

  Hope’s gaze dropped away from her father as he put words to her fear. Her chest tightened at the prospect of hearing more about how her choices would alienate her from her family. She was thankful when his talk shifted into more general terms of how those who enter into marriage should treat each other like they would in the presence of God, with respect, love, service and kindness.

  As he illustrated some of his points with stories she had heard about their early years of marriage, Hope’s thoughts turned to the love she had for Dani that had, like her father said, deepened through acts of service, all the small things she had been happy to do for Dani when she had injured her shoulder. She cherished the kindnesses they extended to each other, like finding her book moved from the living room to her nightstand because Dani knew she liked to read a few more pages before they turned out the lights.

  She got stuck on respect. If she really resp
ected her relationship with Dani, she would share her love with Dani with her father and the rest of her family. Her inability to talk about Dani’s importance in her life devalued it. Guilt rushed through her as she realized that she had defended her instinct to drop Dani’s hand on their hike. That action, redefined by the true principle of the church, would have called for her to hold firm to Dani’s hand, projecting to all the respect she felt for her partner.

  Raising her eyes, she found her father’s already waiting for her, talking about how family is forever. “The promises from the Lord extend to our children. We raise them to follow the principles so that they may enjoy the same rewards generation after generation, the image of man and wife reflected in their children and their spouses, their children and grandchildren countless images of the source of their parents’ love.”

  Hope knew she should stay for the rest of the service, but her father’s words startled her to her feet. Unaware of what she was doing, she handed the infant back to Harrison, barely conscious of his startled look. Hyrum, too, looked concerned and reached out for her, but Halley pulled his hand back with her own, allowing Hope to leave. Her feet carried her through the building away from the chapel. Her heart ached with the knowledge that she could not mirror the image of her mother and father. If that was her father’s definition, then she could not accept his message of family being forever.

  Halfway to her car, she turned back to the church. She couldn’t leave without talking to her brothers, not when they’d driven so far. She couldn’t leave without apologizing to her father. She reentered the building, searching out a safe place.

  She wasn’t surprised when she heard her father call her name about fifteen minutes later.

  “I’m sorry,” she said as he entered the gym and crossed the room to sit next to her on the stage.

  “Don’t be sorry. I was so happy to see you here today sitting with your brothers and Halley. It means more than you know for you to join us to honor your mother.”

  They sat side by side not saying anything, Hope’s mind spinning from her father’s talk, trying to understand what direction she was meant to go. In some ways, his talk had confirmed her intuition that the church was calling her back, but the issue of respect kept on playing back into her mind.

  If she treated her love as she would in the presence of God, she would honor it by telling her family and by fighting for Dani. From that angle, she could see Candy’s coming into town as a message to stand up for what she wanted. She grew frustrated seeing two sides to everything. Telling her father about Dani on his wedding anniversary might communicate the seriousness of her love for Dani, but it could work against her, messing up the memory by equating their love with his.

  Enough dithering, she chastised herself and turned to her father. “I’m in love with someone.”

  He took her hand and nodded. “Halley’s professor?”

  That he knew constricted her throat to the point that she couldn’t talk. She nodded, bracing herself for his reaction.

  “Do you remember how often you ditched Young Women’s class and hid out here with one of your books?”

  Hope nodded again.

  “Your brother said it was because you had a crush on one of the girls, that if you were getting along, you went, but if you’d had a disagreement, you wouldn’t go to class for a while. I thought it was all normal teenage girl stuff. Your mom was already gone. What did I know?”

  “I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want to know myself,” Hope said.

  “But deep within you, you do know, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  He looked away from her out into the empty gymnasium, and Hope waited, knowing his mind had to be as conflicted as hers. “I want for you to be happy. A father wants that for his children. I’m also your spiritual leader, so I have to question myself and whether I have done everything I could to bring my family back to God. I feel confident I can answer that for your brothers and Hallelujah, but I worry that I have failed you.”

  Hope rested her head on her father’s shoulder. “I don’t think so. In so many ways I am living by the covenant of the church. I have put my life on hold struggling to figure out how to be true to my church and myself. Dani makes me feel alive. I have never felt such joy as I feel when I am with her and…” Hope stumbled a bit, trying to put her thoughts into words that would make sense to her father. “…even though I know my being with her creates a struggle for righteousness, I do believe I am still on a path that leads back to God.” She held his hand with both of hers, wishing she could somehow push the feelings that battled inside of her into him, so he could feel for an instant what she lived with every day.

  He took a deep breath and tipped his head to rest against the top of Hope’s. “Nephi also said, ‘Adam fell that men might be and men are that they might have joy.’ When Adam and Eve ate the fruit of the tree of knowledge, they sacrificed their perfect and peaceful existence for a life of hardship and in doing so they gave us life. We must embrace that life and live it fully. Even expelled from the garden, Adam and Eve received God’s love and blessings.”

  Hope turned and threw both of her arms around her father, assured that she had his love even if she chose the path that led her to Dani.

  He held her tight and stroked her head with his strong hands. “You will come to Sunday dinner tonight. Your brothers will want to see you again.”

  “Of course,” Hope said, surprised at the turn of the conversation.

  “And we’ll expect to meet…” His eyes met hers, and it felt like he was laying down the penultimate heart in the deck. She had only one left to collect.

  “Dani.”

  “It’s family dinner. She should be present.”

  Hope bit her lower lip, trying in vain to hold in her tears. Not pausing to think about whether it was appropriate, she prayed that Dani would accept the invitation.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  “She hasn’t called?” Gabe asked, eyeing the phone in my hand.

  “I wasn’t checking that,” I lied. “I have to reset the timer for the next victim.”

  “Mmm hmm.”

  We stood off to the side of a cluster of students who had given up their Sunday to come in and hear Candy talk about our experiences on the circuit and give a demonstration on one of the school’s broncs. Now she was walking each student through style and technique on the mechanical bucking horse, something new to the program.

  I sat thinking about how nicely it worked out that Candy could do an introduction to bareback bronc riding for me and started a list of others I knew on the circuit who might be interested in coming to campus to do a guest lecture.

  Gabe leaned against me. “Someone sure looks like she’s trying to impress you. You haven’t told her that she’s out of luck, have you?”

  “I came in early to talk to her, but there were already a bunch of students around. I’ll have to tell her after we’re all wrapped up.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah, well she’s the one who waited almost a year to say anything at all. What was she expecting?”

  “That jeans and chaps that tight would cloud your judgment?”

  “Glad you’re getting so much out of her presentation.”

  “If I didn’t already know what team she played for, I’d volunteer to be the teacher’s assistant.”

  I slugged him just as Candy looked in my direction. “Ready for the clock?” I asked, waving my cell phone. The way she smiled, I worried that she took my swatting Gabe as an implication that I was considering what she’d come to Quincy to offer. I should have pulled her aside before she started, but I didn’t know how she’d take the news, and I’d been scared to sour her on the favor she’d extended me. Chicken, maybe, but then she’d led me on for years. I could lead her on for an hour without feeling guilty about it.

  She kept catching my eye as I kept the time for each of the students. Because she’d started at a low setting, everyone was staying on the full eigh
t seconds easily. A few agreed to try out higher settings, but we quickly ran through those as folks started coming off the machine. When another flew off, I pocketed my phone and called a close to our impromptu clinic.

  In her element, Candy shook hands with my students and complimented them on their skills. They loved her. The crowd always loved Candy.

  “You ready to hit the road?” I asked casually.

  Her eyes searched mine, and her expression of hope shifted as she read the goodbye about to come. Still, she took my hand as I walked her to her truck.

  “You’re getting out of here at a good time. You won’t be driving down the canyon in the dark,” I said for something to say.

  The crunch of gravel under tires pricked my ears. Candy and I were hidden by her truck, but I could plainly make out Hope’s car over the tops of the cars in between us. She parked behind us by the round corral, and I followed her as she searched for me. Finding Gabe, she walked toward him.

  I turned back to Candy who reached out for me, wrapping me in a hug that spoke of our familiarity with each other. I squeezed her back, knowing that when I pulled away, I would be letting go for good.

  As we parted, her hand ran down my arm, clasping my fingers. “I wish your answer had been different,” she said softly with regret.

  “Pop in that old Garth Brooks song about unanswered prayers. This could be a good thing.”

  She laughed. “You’re nice not to suggest George Straight. You do look good in love. I’m an idiot for not seeing what I had. Make sure she does.” She nodded in Hope’s direction, and I blushed realizing how I’d been watching her so obviously. Candy let go of my hand and got in her truck, rolling down the window to wave as she drove out.

  Across the parking lot, Hope and Gabe stood together watching me. Students looked from me to them, milling around, confused about what to do without our regular schedule of dismissal. I took a deep breath and walked over to them.

  “Y’all did great today. Thanks for coming in. See some of you bright and early tomorrow.” I approached Hope and Gabe cautiously, wanting her appearance at the stable to be a good thing but not wanting to presume, the soundtrack of my mind providing snippets of country heartbreak songs.