by Peg Kerr
“Luiz, tell Carl I’m not coming in again today. Sick again.”
“I’ll tell him,” Luiz said doubtfully. “But you better know, Elias, he was real pissed yesterday that you didn’t show up. You gonna catch it in the neck if you don’t come in today.”
“What, I take a lousy vacation day and then get sick two more days and now my job’s in trouble?”
Luiz lowered his voice. “Rick was right, man. They’re looking for excuses to fire us. I’m hunting around for a new job already, are you?”
“Well, maybe they’re not going to fire me. Maybe I’ll quit first.”
“Elias! I can’t tell Carl—”
“No,” Elias said, cutting him off. He felt utterly weary. “Don’t tell him anything. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”
Elias placed another call after that, setting an appointment with his doctor the next day. That should keep Patty off my back for a little while at least.
He made himself a couple of pieces of toast and ate them and went back to bed, but around noon he felt better, and so he decided to get dressed and go to the hospital.
As Elias approached Sean’s room, he heard voices talking. He poked his head around the door and saw Bill sitting in the chair beside Sean’s bed. Sean saw Elias and waved him in. He and Elias exchanged a kiss, and Elias took up his favorite leaning post against the window. “Hi,” he said to Bill self-consciously.
“Elias,” Bill said, nodding easily, with a hint of a smile.
“They don’t come right out and say it, of course,” Sean continued. “But I think it’s confusing for them. Their big hang-up when I entered the seminary was that they’d never have grandkids, although they would have rather died than said it. But after they worked it all out and said, okay we’ll support you, I left and said I wasn’t going to take the final vows after all.”
“So they couldn’t say, ‘my son, the priest,’ ” Bill observed, amused. “But they still wouldn’t get the grandkids, either.”
Sean laughed, but with a bitter edge. “A disappointment to them either way.”
“Hmm.” Bill considered for a moment and then smiled with a satirical glint in his eye. “You were kind of fooling yourself from the beginning, you know.”
Sean snorted. “I know that. But I wised up. Why do you think I quit?”
Bill shook his head. “I’m not talking about kidding yourself you’re heterosexual and then quitting once you found out you’re gay. You quit because you discovered you had to pay a price. And you didn’t like that at all.”
Sean’s eyebrows drew down in irritation. “What are you talking about?”
“Look, you told me you thought you were meant to be a priest because you weren’t attracted to women, right?”
“Yeah. So?”
Bill shrugged. “How do you think heterosexuals become priests? They know that to be celibate, to make the commitment the church requires, they have to give something up. You thought you were getting off scot-free. And when you discovered you were wrong, that the fiddler did in fact have to be paid, you decided you didn’t want any part of it.”
Sean looked shocked and then angry.
“Well,” Bill said, his voice gentle, “soon you may be called to give something up, my friend, like it or not.”
“Give up what?”
“You already know. Don’t you?”
The room was silent for a moment, and Elias held his breath.
“My life, I suppose,” Sean said finally, his voice cracked and hoarse.
There. He had said it.
Bill nodded. “And if it comes to that, then maybe the time has come to decide where your true commitment lies.”
Sean’s face contorted for a moment. “Why did you quit, then? You said you were going to stay!”
“I did stay.” Bill sighed. “I went all the way to the end of seminary and took the vows. And then two years after I started with my first parish, I was approached by a couple who asked me to bless their union.” He raised an eyebrow. “Two men. I agreed to perform a commitment ceremony. The bishop got wind of it and ordered me not to do it.” He shrugged, but Elias sensed his casualness was a hard-won facade. “I suppose it could have been worked out, if I hadn’t said, uh, certain things. But in the end, it was a conflict of principles, and I decided I couldn’t knuckle under. So I petitioned to be released from my vows.”
“I’m sorry, Bill,” Sean said. “That must have been hard.”
“It was. But I still have a ministry, with MCC.”
There was a clattering noise at the door. Bill looked over and frowned.
“What is it?” Sean asked.
Bill walked over to the door and came back carrying a dinner tray. He lifted the steel plate warmer, and Sean leaned forward warily and stared at the nondescript piece of... something underneath. Meatloaf, possibly—although Elias wouldn’t have bet on it—along with cooked carrots and some discouraged-looking mashed potatoes. “Ick,” said Sean dubiously.
“Did they do this at lunch, too?” Bill demanded.
“Do what?”
“Leave your meal on the floor just inside the door, instead of bringing it in and setting it up for you?”
He put the meal down on Sean’s bedside table. “How in blazes do they think you’re supposed to go over and get it if you’re tethered to an IV?”
Sean looked stunned. “I—don’t know. I was asleep, and when I woke up, my dad was setting the lunch tray down in front of me.”
Bill pressed his lips together. “Excuse me for a moment.” He stalked out of the room without another word.
Sean looked down at his dinner, appalled. “Are they afraid to come in? Is that it?”
“I don’t know,” Elias said. He could hear Bill’s voice, raised out in the hall, although he couldn’t make out the words.
“My god.” Sean pushed the plate away with a look of revulsion.
Elias pulled it back. “Well, don’t let that stop you from eating it,” he said gently. “You came here to gain weight, right? So eat.” He reached for Sean’s bread and buttered it for him. “Come on.”
Reluctantly, Sean picked up his fork and took a bite. He paused in mid-chew, grimacing, and then, with the air of a man steeling himself for an ordeal, took a second bite. “So how did work go today?”
Elias hesitated, wondering how to answer without actually explaining that he didn’t go in. “I don’t like the new manager very much. And I don’t think he likes me.”
“Why?”
Elias shrugged. “Rick said ... transitions can sometimes be tricky when chains buy stores and bring in new managers.”
“I suppose so. I have a hard time believing you can’t get along with anybody, though.”
Elias didn’t say anything for a moment, and Sean lowered his fork again, looking alarmed. “What is it?”
A number of answers flitted through his mind, most of them lies or evasions. “Sean,” he said slowly,
“when you started feeling you were getting sick, you didn’t say anything to me about it.”
“Do you think you might have AIDS?” Sean said, suddenly going white to the lips.
“I don’t know! That’s the truth, I swear it is.” He watched Sean’s face anxiously until he nodded.
“Okay. I believe you.” Sean looked at his dinner plate with loathing and forced himself to take another bite. “Well, what is it, then?”
Would it be right to tell him ? Aren’t there silences that are kinder than the truth?
“Well, if I had some bad news to tell you ... hypothetically speaking ... or if I do get some bad news in the future, would you want me to tell you?”
To his credit, Sean thought about it for several minutes before answering. “I understand you don’t want to upset me. That’s the way I felt about telling you. Maybe I didn’t trust you enough. But sharing hard things together—that’s what partners do, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know,” Elias said with a lump in his throat. Is that what we are? P
artners?
“If you don’t tell me something’s bothering you, maybe it means you’ve given up on me already. You know—you’ve already written me off as someone who can’t... can’t be there to help you face something hard.”
“I haven’t given up on you, Sean.” Elias leaned down and hugged him fiercely. “I’m never going to give up on you.”
“Then tell me. I want you to. Or tell me at least as much as you can.”
Elias took a deep breath. “I think I may lose my job soon.”
“I see.” Sean nodded slowly. “But you can find another one, can’t you?”
How can I if I’m getting sick? But he couldn’t say that. Not yet. He tried to smile reassuringly.
“Thank you for telling me, Elias.” Sean reached out and squeezed Elias’s hand with pitifully bony fingers.
Sean fell asleep soon afterward, still holding Elias’s hand. It was strange how quickly he fell asleep now, as if the mere effort of holding a conversation were enough to wear him out. With infinite gentleness, Elias withdrew his fingers and brushed a tendril of Sean’s hair out of his eyes. He’d have to see to it that Sean got a shampoo tomorrow. Maybe he could give him a haircut.
“Is he asleep?” a voice whispered. Elias looked up to see Bill standing in the doorway. He nodded and went out into the hallway to join him.
“I’ll leave now then,” Bill said, his voice low. “Tell Sean I, um, had some words with the staff. I hope you won’t have any more nonsense about the way his meals are served.” He glanced back into the room, and the same introspective expression flitted across his face.
“I think I know what you gave up to become a priest,” Elias said impulsively. Bill looked at him, raising an eyebrow, and Elias blushed. “It’s that obvious, is it?” A crease appeared between his eyebrows. “It’s not—I mean, I don’t want you to think I’m any kind of threat—”
“I know that. I’m just sorry that you can’t... Now that you’re no longer a priest, I mean—”
“Oh, I am in my own way, I suppose. And I think Sean’s in pretty good hands with you.”
It took three more days for Carl to get around to firing him. It took three more weeks to get the project he had planned with Rick set up with all their friends.
It took five weeks for the doctor to confirm that Elias had AIDS.
The night he found out, Elias went up to Sean’s room at the hospital, came directly over, and wrapped his arms around him.
“Hey ... hey, Elias. What’s happening?” Sean said, pulling back a little and smiling sleepily up at him. Elias shrugged, struggled to find something to say past the obstruction in his throat. “I... just miss holding you.”
“Here, lower the bed rail.”
Elias did and then gingerly lay down next to Sean. Painfully, Sean shifted over to give him room. They lay together, their arms intertwined, for a long time, not saying anything.
“Elias?” Sean said finally as the room began growing dark.
“Hmm?”
“What would you think of... urn, getting married, I suppose. Having some kind of partnering ceremony, for you and me?”
“What?” Surprised, Elias raised his head and peered to see Sean’s face in the darkness.
“Ever since Bill mentioned performing one, I’ve been thinking about it. And about commitment.” Sean sighed, shifting his head on the pillow. “This is going to sound corny, but you know, I realized I’ve studied a bunch of different things, had all sorts of careers. All kinds of friends, tricks, lovers. But I’d never really settled down to anything. Until I met you. I feel bound to you in a way I’ve never been to anyone else before. And there’s a part of me that wants to let the world know that. While I still have time.” He paused. “Do you understand?”
Elias twisted a fold of Sean’s hospital gown between his fingers. “I do.”
Sean cleared his throat. “And I’ve been thinking about my parents. Wondering what’s going to happen to them after I die.”
Elias made a movement of protest, and Sean held up his hand. “Wait a minute,” he said. “Hear me out.” He shifted again, with a soft noise of pain. “And then there’s you, with no parents at all. What will happen if you get sick, too? Who’s gonna look after you?”
Elias ducked his head, hoping Sean couldn’t read the expression in his eyes. “I can think of a number of our friends who’d be pissed to hear you imply I couldn’t count on them. You said being gay means we choose our own families.”
“Right. That’s what I’m asking you to do, to choose to make a family with me. That way, my parents would be your parents, too, and you can be a son to them when I’m gone.”
He paused, giving Elias an opportunity to reply, but Elias didn’t trust the reliability of his voice and remained silent.
Sean cleared his throat. “On the other hand, who knows? Maybe this drug’ll work and they’ll discover a cure for AIDS. We can go to Bloomingdale’s and pick out matching towels together and live happily ever after.”
“I don’t want to wear a white dress.”
“So you don’t have to wear a white dress. Or even throw a bouquet. Will you at least consider it?”
His voice became serious. “It would mean a lot to me.”
“I think... it would mean a lot to me, too.” Elias pondered. “We could get matching rings.”
“Hey, we could.” Sean’s voice sounded pleased. “I know someone who makes rings, using Irish designs. Let me take care of getting those.”
“All right, then.” Elias tightened his arm around Sean, carefully. “I accept your proposal.”
“Thanks, Elias.”
“And we’ll ask Bill to do the ceremony?”
“Naturally.”
“I’m sure you understand this already,” Bill said, “but I still have to say it. I can perform a ceremony, but it won’t mean a rat’s patootie in the eyes of the law.”
“We know that,” Elias said.
“Have you thought about seeing an attorney?” Bill asked. “You need to arrange your wills, and Sean, you might want to look at the question of whether you want to consider signing some kind of power of attorney, so Elias can act for you if need be.”
Sean and Elias exchanged looks. “Okay, we’ll do that,” Sean said with a touch of impatience. “But we want to do a partnering ceremony for us, not the state.”
“And your friends and family, too, of course. Do you plan on inviting them?”
Sean looked startled. “I... hadn’t thought about it.” He looked down at the tube erupting from his chest. “I’m a little ... tied down, so to speak.”
Bill shrugged. “The hospital has a chapel we can reserve, so your friends and family can come. If you like.”
The first line from the tune “Chapel of Love” flitted absurdly through Elias’s mind, and he had to bite down the urge to laugh.
Sean grinned. “Well, we’ll see if anyone wants to come.”
There were some doubters, when Sean and Elias announced their intentions and the date. Sean’s parents “took it well,” as Sean put it, although neither Sean nor Elias missed the swift look of dismay that crossed Janet’s face when Sean broke the news.
“What is it?” Sean said, smiling dangerously at her.
Janet looked at her husband rather helplessly and then shrugged. “Nothing, it’s just...” Her words trailed off.
“We never expected you’d do something like this,” Jim offered.
“Something like what?” Sean asked with a note of challenge. Elias took his hand and pressed it warningly.
“Try to, er, get married,” said Janet. “To a man.”
“It bothers you?” Sean said, with a look that meant, It had better not. Janet sighed. “Well, it does seem strange. We’ll need to get used to the idea. But you know, when you first told us you were gay, I think one of the things that hurt us the most was the thought you’d never find someone to share your life, the way Jim and I have.” She blinked, and Elias saw the tears in her eyes. “I
’m just so glad that all our fears turned out to be for nothing.”
She smiled, and then gave herself a little shake. “Well, my goodness, I suppose I must say, um ... welcome to the family, Elias.” She came over and gave him an awkward hug, which felt at once pleasant and dreadfully embarrassing to Elias. As he pulled away from Janet’s embrace and solemnly shook Jim’s outstretched hand, he caught a look of thoughtful surprise on Sean’s face. After Sean’s parents had left and they were alone again, Sean admitted, “That went better than I thought it would.”
“Hmm. Something your mom said gives me the impression they know they really blew it with you when you came out.”
“I’d say they did,” Sean muttered, his eyes kindling at certain memories.
“Just a guess, but I think they’re glad they’re getting a second chance.”
Leo called the hospital when he got his invitation. Elias answered the phone because Sean was asleep. “Kiyoshi and me’ll be there,” Leo said.
“Good. Oh, and Sean said to tell you and any other musicians to bring instruments, so we can have music afterwards.”
“Um, does that include Nick?” Leo asked cautiously.
“We sent an invitation to him and Amy,” Elias said. “I don’t know if they’re coming or not.”
“Amy can do what she wants,” Leo said, “but I’ll make sure Nick is there. Oh, and I have a picture for you. I caught my sister and gave her the mask just before she left for Florence on a buying trip, and she had it taken in front of Michelangelo’s David.”
Elias grinned. “That’s perfect, Leo, thanks. Make sure you get it to me before Friday so I can add it to the collection.”
Sean stirred and looked over, blinking. “Who’s it?” he asked.
“Leo,” Elias whispered to him. “He says he and Kiyoshi are coming.”
“Ask about Philip.”
“Leo, Philip won’t be well enough to come, will he?”
“No, he’s still hospitalized because he’s taking an IV drug for the cryptococcosis—”
“Oh, I forgot; he’s on amphotericin, too. It’s a shame he isn’t admitted here so he could just push his IV pole down the hall.”