by Cameron Dane
Rodrigo immediately wrapped her up tight. “Hey.” Kisses peppered the top of Abby’s head. “What’s this about, Bit?”
Looking up at his handsome, loving face, Abby rested her chin on Rodrigo’s chest and said, “Something very good.”
* * *
Two hours later, in the passenger seat of Rodrigo’s truck, Abby’s cheeks were starting to hurt from all the smiling she couldn’t control. She slapped her hand against her leg and shook her head at Rodrigo. “I still can’t believe she not only came to see me but wants us all to know her and the family.” Her giddiness all morning proved how much she’d been secretly aching for a connection to her past. “I never let myself believe that would happen in a million years.”
Rodrigo took his hand off the wheel to rub her leg. “It’s nice. People are surprising us left and right today.”
“That’s an understatement.” From her position, Abby studied Rodrigo’s starkly handsome profile and tried to control the uptick in her heart. “Plus, as an additional bonus, you finally figured out what you inherited from your father.”
That got Rodrigo’s attention off the road for a moment and swinging her way. “What are you talking about?” His voice rose comically high.
“Your know-it-all stubbornness.” Abby laughed at the way Rodrigo immediately glared at her. “I swear, Rodrigo, as you were standing there this morning silently facing off, your face could have been his. The jutting chins and stances were identical.”
“If you say so.” Rodrigo put his attention back on his driving. His hand stayed on her thigh, though, and his voice dropped as he curled his fingers inward. “I’ve stared at myself in the mirror a hundred times since I met Henry, and I don’t see anything that matches.”
Abby lifted his fingers and brushed the rough knuckles with her lips, loving the strength in this man that went well beyond his muscles and strong hands. “It goes beyond the physical.” Resting her head against the seat, she let herself slip back to the showdown between Rodrigo and Henry. “I wish I’d had a video camera with me this morning. You would have recognized yourself in him in a heartbeat.”
Rodrigo’s jaw moved visibly. “I don’t mind hearing that so much today.” He took his hand back and curled it around the wheel. “Six months ago, it might have been different.”
The catch in Rodrigo’s voice reached inside Abby and stole what little was left of her protected heart. “I’m happy for you. I think you’re going to end up with a really strong relationship with your father.”
“We’ll get your answers for you, Bit.” Rodrigo took his attention off the road once again and let her see a burn of determination in his eyes, one that matched his tone. “I promise you we will.”
“I know.”
Abby rolled her head away to look out the window at the houses and businesses they passed. Talking about Rodrigo’s father drew thoughts of Lorene’s visit to the surface again, and the tumult of emotions she’d dragged out of Abby just by reminding her she could renew her commitment to her faith if she would just let herself believe and do it. The problem was, thinking about God always conjured the emotional connection Abby’s parents had to the church and the sense of community they’d gained by rejoicing together every Sunday. A bone-deep part of Abby still pined for such a place, yet that desire constantly butted heads with the fact that she had her own independent mind, thoughts, and beliefs. A very big piece of her remained fearful that she could no longer fit into an environment that fostered groups of people who came together because they all thought the same way.
Maybe I’m being greedy. After all, Abby already had the two most incredible guys in the world in Rodrigo and Braden, and now she even had Lorene making an effort to accept her too. Maybe I’m not supposed to have everything I want.
Suddenly, Abby shot up straight and grabbed the door’s handle. “Pull over the car.” The signage in front of the white building with the wraparound porch had felt like it reached out from the side of the road and dragged Abby’s eyes right to it. Abby pointed and could already feel herself perspiring. “Do you mind if we go in there for a few minutes?”
Rodrigo backed up the truck. “Bit, we can go wherever the hell you’d like.”
With that, Rodrigo pulled into the parking lot of Coleman’s Episcopal church.
* * *
“Thanks for coming, man.” Braden thumped Ben on the back as he gave him a bear hug. “I appreciate your sparing me a few hours of your time.” He led Ben to a picnic table behind the police station where they could have some privacy.
Ben eased onto the bench seating, his attention on Braden. “Hey, you call me saying you need another perspective, and I’m going to come.” He lifted a raven black brow with just the perfect arch. “Particularly since this involves your Abby and Rodrigo.”
“Ah.” Braden carefully flattened his palms against his case files. “So you came for some gossip as much as to lend me your mind.”
“I am curious to know how it’s going.” Not even a smidgen of shame or guilt leaked into Ben’s voice or showed in his gaze. “I was the one who told you to pursue a relationship like this, if you will recall, so maybe I feel like I have something invested in its success.” When Braden didn’t answer right away, Ben cocked that thick brow of his even higher. “Go ahead, man. Spill.”
A band tightened with incredible precision around Braden’s heart. He plunked his elbows on the table and buried his hands in his hair. “Christ, Ben. I don’t even know where to begin.” He chuckled at the many changes in himself. “It’s so much more than I ever thought it could be. I’m in it up to my neck already, and it’s the fucking scariest, best thing I’ve ever done in my life. It’s more than the sex, and that they both like sharing it as much as I do. I think about them all the time. I worry about them and wonder if I can keep them safe. I’m like the biggest goddamn cheerleader when one of them has good news. Every single day when I wake up, I psych myself up and promise myself that I can do this. I can keep us all together and happy and we can make this thing work, no matter the obstacles. And most of that”—he jerked his thumb as if the list were typing itself out in the air behind him—“I was doing and feeling well before we ever got into bed together.
“When I’m here at work and something horrific comes into the system, I think about them, and my blood goes cold at the thought that I could ever lose one of them. My happiness depends on their well-being. It’s terrifying and insane…and really, really good.”
A slow grin spread itself over Ben’s wide mouth. “So you love them.”
“Yeah.” Braden had felt it for a long time, but saying it aloud still evoked a sense of wonder and put a lump in his throat. “I do.”
“Good, man.” Ben clasped Braden’s forearm and gave it a hard squeeze. “That’s what you’re supposed to feel. I’m happy for you.”
“You really are, aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question. Braden could see the support shining in Ben’s eyes.
Hints of mossy green deepened Ben’s hazel gaze. “I loved you once myself. I could only want what’s best for you.”
“You’re something fucking special, Evans. You know that?”
“Stop cheerleading for me,” Ben growled. “I’m fine. Let’s get started on this case.”
“Right.” Braden handed over one of the folders. “Take a look.”
* * *
After gaining permission from a church employee, Abby now sat in one of the front pews, absorbing the peaceful silence and soft shadows created by the dimmed lighting. About only half the size of the church Abby had grown up in, this place only boasted one stained-glass window, and the altar was simple and without a lot of ornamentation.
As was his way, Rodrigo had told Abby he would be close by if she needed him, and then he took a seat on the opposite side of the aisle, giving her space and time by herself. Rodrigo probably thought she was crazy—and maybe she was—but she appreciated his willingness to accept her journey rather than ridicule or judge her. Without
her needing to say so, he understood which things to tease and torment her about and which sat too close to her heart to touch.
It’s just one of the reasons I love him.
With a quick glance to her right at the man in question, Abby smiled to herself, content and warmed by his presence.
Right then, a masculine voice with a chuckle mixed in reached Abby’s ears. “I do like to see a person full of joy in my church,” it said.
Abby looked up, and to her right found a compact, silver-haired man dressed in black with a white collar. He had a stack of books braced against one forearm and a pair of readers perched on the end of his nose.
“Oh.” A priest. Well, of course there would be one, girl. This is a church. She cycled back and couldn’t remember what he’d said. “What was that?”
“Your smile. It was joyous.” For a moment, the priest’s attention slid to Rodrigo across the way. “It doesn’t matter what put it there. A joyful heart inside these walls lifts everyone within.” He plunked his stack of books—hymnals—on the padded pew. “Do you mind if I sit?”
“Yes. I mean no, I don’t mind. Thank you. Father… Reverend…” This man’s presence threw her, jumbling her brain and tongue. “I don’t know what it’s proper to call you.”
The man’s knees cracked loudly, resonating against the walls of the church as he sat down, keeping a respectable distance between them. “Father Kurt. Or you could just call me Kurt. I’ll answer to that too.”
“I’m Abby.” She forced herself to breathe in through her nose and out through her mouth until the butterflies in her stomach settled down to rest. “Good to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you too.” With his head turned so he could see her, Kurt dangled his clasped hands between his knees. “Is there something I can help you with, Abby? Or did you just come inside for a few minutes of quiet?”
Abby opened her mouth, the words I’m fine on her tongue. Instead, they came out as, “I don’t really know why I’m here.”
Kurt dipped his gray head. “That’s okay too. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like. Although it will get louder in a few hours when we begin choir practice. Fair warning, we’re loud and passionate, but contestants on American Idol, we are not.”
“I’ve been fairly warned.” Abby found herself pushing back her shoulders and shifting in the pew to face this man. “I suppose passion is the most important component anyway.”
“Without a doubt,” he said, no hesitation in his tone.
“Do you feel that way about all the members of your congregation?” The question popped out of Abby without moving through a filter first. “Is a desire to feel God’s presence in your heart more important than what you do or who you love?”
“Hmm.” In silence, the man tipped his head back and steepled his fingers under his chin. He stayed that way for a good solid minute before making eye contact with Abby again. “That’s a broad question, Abby. I’d have trouble answering it without going on for hours or possibly even days.”
“And that’s an evasive answer.” Her mouth twisted and her gaze narrowed. “You priests are very good at that.”
“Now you’re casting a net and judging me by the actions of everyone you’ve already trapped under it.”
Abby pulled up short, her mouth agape. When she finally snapped it shut, she realized it wasn’t easy to swallow the bitter taste of crow sitting at the tip of her tongue. “You’re right,” she told the priest. “I apologize.”
“It’s all right.” Kurt’s tone held no defensiveness. “My feelings are not easily bruised.”
Father Kurt fell silent again. Casual as could be, he stretched his legs out in front of him and stuck his hands in his pockets, as if he planned to stay for a while. For Abby, his ease felt like nothing so much as an open-ended invitation to say as much or little as she wanted, and it would be all right.
“I used to go to church when I was a little girl,” Abby confessed, her voice going soft. “I loved it. Life took me away from it for a long time, but recently this thirst for a connection to something bigger than myself has grown to a point where I want to find a home for it.” Frustration slipped back in, killing the peace inside. “Only I have these two men in my life. There’s Rodrigo; that’s who you caught me smiling at over there. I have him, and I have Braden too; he’s at work right now, but he makes me smile when I look at him the same way Rodrigo does. Rodrigo and Braden have my back at all times, no matter what. I would never disrespect them for the world, but because we’re all in a relationship together, I’m not welcome where I used to go unless I’m open to guidance”—she threw her fingers up in quotes—“about how being with two men is not part of God’s best plan for me.” Abby’s blood pressure kicked right back into as high a gear as it had been when she spoke to Father Jim, and every bit of passion inside rang in her voice. “Now you tell me how in the hell is loving two people who care about me and only want the best for me not part of God’s plan? Why wouldn’t God be jumping up and down with joy for me? I’ll tell you.” She wagged her finger. “He’s caught up in the gay part where Rodrigo and Braden love each other too.”
“He as in God?” Father Kurt asked. “Or he as in this priest you spoke to?”
“I believe it’s the priest,” Abby replied, “although his thought would be that he’s speaking on God’s behalf. But I think, as long as we’re all consenting adults and not hurting each other, I don’t think God cares. Is that wrong? I don’t think it is. How can it be?”
“Abby.” Father Kurt took her hand in both of his. “If you are firmly committed to these people, and if you believe God tells you your friendship is right, then you already have all the answers you require. You don’t need me or anyone else to tell you if your relationship with these men is acceptable. God has told you the truth.”
“I know, I know.” Abby had no fears or worries that her relationship with Rodrigo and Braden was wrong. Nobody would ever convince her of that. But why couldn’t anyone understand what she was seeking? “I’m stubborn, I guess,” she admitted. “And I just want someone in a collar to acknowledge, to admit, it’s okay to be what we are. I can’t open myself to guidance from someone who doesn’t. If I did, that would be the same as a piece of me telling Rodrigo and Braden that I’m not sure about us. That I’m willing to be swayed by a good enough talker. And I’m not.”
“Then why does it matter?”
“I don’t know. It just does.” Abby hated not having the answer for herself, let alone confiding it to someone else. “Maybe because I need to feel it’s worth the struggle to find my faith again. If I can’t find a place to fit where I don’t feel compromised and can be myself, if my friends aren’t all welcome as equally as I am, then maybe I need to know that now so I can move on to somewhere else.”
“That sounds like a reasonable and honorable journey to have.”
“But…” Enough with him turning this conversation all on me. “What do you believe, Father Kurt?”
The man took his time before answering. His mouth pulled, making deep brackets on his face, and his eyes held curiosity and thirst as he worked his answer out in his head, all of which made Abby respect him. Even if she didn’t end up liking his answer, she appreciated that he clearly put some personal thought into it. He didn’t just spew an answer by rote.
“You know,” Kurt finally said, “I don’t have a ménage relationship in my congregation, and I’ve never been asked to counsel one. However, I would openly accept you if you were with either this Rodrigo or Braden separately, and I would accept and welcome Rodrigo and Braden in a relationship together, so logically speaking it would be hypocritical of me to judge the three of you as fundamentally wrong.”
He put his elbow on the stack of hymnals and rested his chin in his hand, which put Abby in mind of a scholar from long ago. “I suppose ultimately it’s not the number that matters. What matters to God is your love for each other, your commitment, your respect toward one another, your bond, and
your desire to be faithful to each other in a monogamous relationship. Of course, the word monogamy makes us draw the definition of a single mate for a lifetime, but in practical application, three people could be just as committed to each other as two.”
“Would you get in trouble with your higher-ups for having this belief?” Curiosity pushed Abby to ask more questions. It was trippy as all get-out to sit with a person of such profound commitment to his faith and simply feel like she was having a conversation with him. Not a lecture, not a sermon, not a constant fear of judgment on her end, but just two people talking.
“I don’t know how others of my faith would feel,” Kurt said. “It wouldn’t change my belief, though. My mind is my own.” He smiled, and it was lopsided and wonderful. “I believe God likes it that way.”
Abby found herself grinning back. “You’re an unusual man of God, Kurt.”
“I don’t know about that.” He brushed her compliment off with a shrug but then sat up straight, his gaze deepening as he looked at her. “And I would caution you against believing this other priest you spoke to came to his belief lightly or blindly. Men and women of God have just as many internal struggles with what they are taught to believe and with what their heart quietly tells them is right as any other person does. Putting on a collar is not a magic wand. It’s not a cure-all for doubts, and it doesn’t automatically give you all the answers, no matter the few who are very outspoken on behalf of their particular religion might tell you. We’re all human, Abby.” His tone dropped, as if imparting a valuable secret. “We’re all interpreting what we believe God’s true word to be, and sometimes we make mistakes.”
“Forget unusual man of God, Father.” Abby laughed outright, amazed that she could with this person she’d just met. “You’re just an unusual man. Period.”
“I was raised by my mother and grandmother, and I have a twin sister,” Kurt shared. “I’ve also been married for twenty years and have two daughters. If I’m at all enlightened, you can thank them. They teach me lessons every day.”