by M. E. Parker
I looked up at my father. His face was red. I could tell he was trying to get ahold of his anger. “Son, if you’ll just listen. I don’t think you’re wrong. I think you’re having urges—it’s lust. You can … If you pray … The scripture is clear, son. Homosexuality is wrong. But you don’t have to give in to temptation, you can pray. I’ll pray with you right now.”
“I’ve heard enough!” I was startled by my mother’s voice and I turned around. I hadn’t even heard her come in. I didn’t know how long she’d been standing there. She was holding a bag of groceries that she dropped on the floor. I looked up at her. Anger flared in her blue eyes. “Charlie. Tell him the truth. Tell him what this is really about.”
My father looked up at her. “I’m telling him the truth. The Bible is clear on this, Elizabeth. We’ve talked about this.”
She stormed into the living room. “Don’t give me that shit. Don’t hide behind your precious Bible. It says all kinds of crazy shit in that book you cherish so much. We don’t believe it all, do we Charlie? The Bible says not to eat pork or shellfish. But you sure as hell wolfed down that pork tenderloin I made for dinner last night. We stop at Red Lobster to get your shrimp platter every time we drive through Asheville. It says a woman must keep her head covered in church, that a woman can’t teach in church, that a woman must obey her husband. But we don’t believe any of that, do we, Charlie? This isn’t about the Bible. This is about you. You can’t face it. Things are different now.”
I was shocked by my mother’s reaction. “Elizabeth! I’ll not have you talking like that in this house,” my father’s voice boomed. I didn’t want to sit and listen to them argue. I wanted to get out of there. I didn’t want to listen anymore.
I jumped up from the couch and ran out the front door and around the side of the house. I stopped beside the living room window. I heard my mom calling for me from the front porch. I felt like a child. I knew I should go back inside and face them, but I’d never heard them argue like that. I hadn’t expected that to happen. I stood there quietly.
“Chance,” my mother called out again. I couldn’t answer. I slid down the side of the house and fell on the ground. I heard the door slam. I could hear my mother screaming at my father. “How could you? How could you tell our son all of that garbage? He was only sixteen. He was confused. Five years, he’s probably lived with shame all of those years because of your hateful words. I don’t know if I can forgive you for this. You’re going to fix this, Charlie. He’s not Robbie. It’s not 1985. You need to pray. Do whatever it is you need to do. Because if you can’t fix this, we’re through.”
“Elizabeth, come back here. Where are you going?”
“To pack a bag.”
“Where do you think you’re going?” my father yelled.
“To Julie’s. You know what you have to do if you want me to come home.”
I stood up and wiped the grass off the knees of my jeans. I should have gone in to confront them. I felt overwhelmed. I needed to think. I wasn’t sure what had just happened. My father’s reaction hadn’t surprised me, but my mother’s was a whole different story. I expected her to cry. I expected her to be supportive. But what I hadn’t expected was her rage directed towards my father. It was unsettling. I loved how fiercely she’d defended me, but it didn’t make me happy to hear my parents fight like that.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Andy
“Andy, honey, stop pacing. Come sit down,” my mother said as I paced back and forth in the kitchen. I looked at my watch and let out a breath, running my fingers through my hair. I walked over and sat down with her at the kitchen table. She pushed a glass of lemonade in front of me. “Drink,” she said.
I slid my fingers up and down the cool glass. “I’m just worried about him.”
I looked at her and she was smiling. “I always knew y’all loved each other. It was obvious from the time you were little boys.”
I rolled my eyes. “Mom. Stop. How can you be so calm? You know how Pastor Wyrick is. This is hard for Chance. I can’t stand the thought of him listening to one of his sermons on the evils of homosexuality.”
She reached over and squeezed my hand. “Liz won’t let that happen. And give Chance some credit; if he decided he was ready to do this, he’ll stand up to Charlie. There are things I can’t share with you, but he’ll come around. You have to trust me.”
I had no idea what she was talking about, but I knew if she couldn’t tell me, it was because Chance’s mom had told her something in confidence. It wouldn’t matter how many times I asked, my mother would never betray Lizzy Wyrick. I sighed.
Mom sat back in her chair and sighed. “I can’t believe both of you ended up hiking up to Black Bear on Thanksgiving. What are the chances? It must’ve been fate.”
I shook my head. I hadn’t told her the whole story, of course. She would’ve freaked out if she knew I almost fell in the river. When I told her Chance and I were together, she hugged me like I’d just won the lottery. I was glad that she was happy for us, but I couldn’t stop worrying that Chance would change his mind after he talked to his father. I couldn’t get Chance’s words out of my head, “What if he’s right?” It broke my heart to think that any part of Chance believed his father’s warped sense of morality.
“You know, your father would be so happy for you two. We talked about it. He could see it even back then.”
I nodded and squeezed her hand. “I know. Chance and I talked about it. I told him I thought Dad would be happy for us.”
Mom stood up. “Maybe I’ll start some lunch. Chance will be hungry when he gets here. Unless he eats at home. Do you think he’ll have lunch over there?”
I sighed again. “Mom. Stop. Quit acting like you’re not nervous. You’re just making me more nervous.”
“So, should I make lunch or not? I’m not even sure what I have.” She opened the refrigerator.
“Mom. Just sit down,” I said, before I heard a knock at the door. I jumped up and looked down at my watch. It hadn’t even been thirty minutes.
Before I could make it to the front door, Lizzy had opened it and was dragging a small suitcase on wheels behind her. Her eyes were red and puffy. “I’m moving in until Charlie gets his head out of his ass.” She looked up at us in the kitchen. “Where’s Chance?”
“What do you mean? I thought he was with you,” I asked feeling a wave of panic come over me.
She let go of her suitcase and ran over and pulled me into a tight hug. “Oh Andy, I messed up. I was just so mad at Charlie. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did. You’re together—you and Chance—you’re together, aren’t you?”
I couldn’t answer her. “Where is he? What happened? Where’d he go?”
She buried her face in her hands. “I don’t know. I was arguing with Charlie and he ran out. I thought he’d come here.”
I ran to the front door and looked for Chance’s truck. It was still in the driveway. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and texted him. Where are you? Are you okay?
I looked over at my mother. She had her arm wrapped around Lizzy. Lizzy looked up at me. “Can you find him, Andy? Where could he be?”
I had no idea. “I just texted him. Give him a second to text me back.”
“Oh god, I need a glass of wine,” she said.
My mother went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle. She poured each of us a glass, emptying the bottle. Lizzy looked up at me. “Andy, do you remember the code to our garage?”
I furrowed my brow. “I think so.”
“Would you be a dear and run over? There’s a case of wine just inside on the left.”
I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “Yes ma’am.”
As I ran out the door, I tried to think about where Chance could be. I imagined that Chance’s father reacted exactly how we thought he would, but I was surprised at Lizzy’s reaction and it made me wonder what had happened.
As soon as I got back with the wine, I checked my phone. Chanc
e still hadn’t answered. I was trying to figure out where he would have gone on foot. It was possible that he’d walk into town. I shook my head and stared at my phone.
“I’m gonna go look for him,” I said, shoving it back into my pocket.
Lizzy walked over and hugged me again. “Find him and tell him I’m sorry.” I nodded, wondering what she had to be sorry about. I took off out the front door, but as soon as my feet hit the front porch, I froze. What am I doing? If he wants you to find him, he’ll text. I sat down on the porch swing and pulled my phone out of my pocket. Still nothing. Taking a deep breath, I looked up to the sky. It was a beautiful day. The trees were still bare, but there were signs that spring was around the corner. The jonquils next to the mailbox were blooming.
I sighed and wrestled with my thoughts. Go after him. Don’t be a coward. What’s the worst that could happen? His father could have gotten to him. He could regret coming out. He could change his mind. He could decide he doesn’t want me anymore. He could decide I’m not worth it. Oh god, maybe he doesn’t want to face me. Maybe he’s afraid to tell me the truth. I pulled out my phone. Still nothing.
I stood up and braced my hands on the porch railing. I may as well get it over with. I can’t just sit and wait to hear from him. I looked up and down the street. I wasn’t even sure that I’d be able to find him. I guessed he could have taken a walk, but I had no idea which direction he’d go. Then it hit me. I’m so stupid. I jumped over the porch railing into the grass and took off around the back of the house.
My heart began to pound as soon as the treehouse came into view. I stopped, wondering if I should bother him. If he wanted me with him, he would have texted me, I thought as I walked through the backyard. As soon as I reached the treehouse, I made my way up the ladder. I knew if I stopped to think about it too much, I’d chicken out. My arms and legs shook as I climbed slowly up each rung. As soon as I was high enough to peer inside, I saw him.
He was sitting down, with his legs crossed in front of him. His hands were flat against the wooden floor. His head was back as if he were staring at the ceiling, but his eyes were closed. He must not have heard me climb up. I studied him for a second. God he was beautiful. A dark stubble covered his jaw line. His hair was a mess. His dark lashes rested on his cheeks. I finally managed to clear my throat. I didn’t want to startle him.
He looked up at me with a sad smile. “Hey.”
I smiled at him nervously. “Hey. Did you run away from home?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m pathetic. That totally didn’t go how I imagined. I just needed some time to think.”
I swallowed. “I’ll leave you alone. Your mom was worried. I’ll tell her I couldn’t find you.”
He shook his head. “No, come up. I just couldn’t see her yet.”
“Are you sure?”
He scooted over. “Yeah, I want to talk to you.”
I climbed inside the treehouse. He looked sad. It broke my heart. I sat down beside him and pulled my knees up to my chest. “You okay?”
He nodded and looked over at me and another sad smile crossed his face. “Yeah. We’re not wrong.”
“No, we’re not,” I almost whispered. I was worried.
He shook his head. “I mean, I know it. For sure, now. When I decided I wanted us to be together, part of me wasn’t sure. Part of me felt like it was wrong. But I didn’t care. I didn’t care if it was wrong. I wanted to be with you anyway.”
I reached over and squeezed his hand. “Chance, tell me what happened.”
He let out a breath. “It was crazy. Mom wasn’t home when I got there and I just couldn’t wait for her, so I told Dad. He reacted just like I thought he would. Then Mom came home, and all of a sudden she was screaming at him—about how there’s all kinds of crazy stuff in the Bible, like how you can’t eat pork or shrimp, or that women have to wear a hat to church. It was like I wasn’t even in the room anymore. But as I listened, I realized my mother was right. I realized you were right. I don’t think it’s about religion for him, it’s about someone named Robbie. I don’t know, she was so mad at him. I’ve never heard them fight like that. I had to get out of there.”
I reached for him and pulled him into my arms. We just held each other quietly for a long time. I had no idea what was going on.
“Hey,” I whispered, “maybe you should talk to your mom—let her explain. She’s worried.”
He nodded and pulled away. “Can we sit here a little while longer? I just need a minute.”
“Sure,” I said, looking up at him. I wiped away a tear that had fallen from the corner of his eye.
We sat in silence for a while before he cleared his throat. “You know, it’s weird. All these years, I knew he was wrong. I mean, the things that he said to me—his views about homosexuality—they never matched up with the rest of what he taught me. But I think, somewhere deep down, I still believed him. I don’t know how many times I listened to sermons about love and kindness. But none of it mattered because, in the end, it was church and my own father who taught me to hate myself.” He started to cry. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen Chance cry. He smiled through his sadness. “You’re the reason I don’t hate myself anymore.”
Tears flowed freely down Chance’s cheeks. I felt my own tears falling as I pulled him into my arms. He sobbed on my shoulder. I felt his tears dampen my shirt. “I can’t say for sure that I believe in God. All I can tell you is, I know for sure, if He’s real, He loves us just the way He made us. And love is never wrong. And you should never hate yourself for being the way God made you.”
“I know,” he nodded his head against my shoulder. “I know that now, monkey.” I hated Pastor Wyrick. I hated him for making Chance feel that way. He pulled away and began to furiously wipe the tears from his face. “God, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I should hate him right now for how he made me feel all those years, but it’s hard, you know? I think there was some small part of me that still had hope that he would accept me.”
“Nothing’s wrong with you,” I whispered. “You love your dad, there’s nothing wrong with that.”
He looked at me with watery eyes and put his hand on my cheek. “I love you.”
I felt frozen. Did he really just say those words? Did he mean them as in he’s “in love” with me? Or as in, he loves me as a friend? I couldn’t tell.
“I love you, too,” I said tentatively.
A wide smile spread across his face. “You do?”
I cleared my throat. “Of course.”
He rubbed his thumb across my cheek. “No, Andy. I love you. I’m in love with you.”
Before I could respond, he reached into the pocket of his flannel shirt. I was blown away. It was hard to focus. “Oh my god, I—”
“Hold on,” he interrupted as he held up a tiny black velvet bag with a drawstring, “I was going to wait to give you this for your birthday, but something made me grab it this morning before we left.”
I took the bag from him. My hands shook as I pulled it open. As soon as I turned it over and let it fall into my hand, I recognized the bracelet immediately—a black cord, separated by a silver bar. It was the one I had tried on in Asheville the day after Christmas. Chance and I had stopped there on our way back to Gilcrest. I examined the bracelet; there was an engraving on the bar over to one side. A+C. Just like the initials he carved in the tiny heart on the floor of the treehouse.
“Turn it over,” he said.
I did what he asked and found words engraved on the back. I love you, no matter what. I felt tears pooling in my eyes when I looked up at him. “Chance, I—I can’t believe you did this.”
“I mean it, Andy. Remember when we were kids and we made a pact? Best friends, no matter what? I fucked that up. I didn’t keep my promise. But this promise … I know I can keep. I may screw things up. You may decide you don’t want me anymore. But those words will always be true, I swear. And if you don’t feel the same way—”
>
It was my turn to interrupt him. “Oh my god, Chance. Are you crazy? Of course, I feel the same way. I love you, too. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. I can’t believe this is real. Come here.” I pulled him close and kissed him, with everything I had. He grabbed the back of my head with his hand, pulling me closer, as our mouths collided in desperation. My entire body was tingling with excitement. Part of me felt drunk—high on the emotions and feelings that coursed through me as I thought about his words.
Chance pulled away from me. “God, you make me so happy,” he whispered through a small smile. “It doesn’t even matter what happens with my father. Just knowing you feel what I feel—it makes everything easy. Come on, let’s go inside. I wanna go talk to my mom so we can get back to Gilcrest,” he said, before he pulled me closer and kissed me again.
I smiled against his lips. “Hmmm … can’t we just stay here?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t tempt me, monkey. One of these days, we’re getting naked in this treehouse.”
I sighed and pulled away. “Fine. We’ll go in.” I realized I was still clutching the bracelet that Chance had given me. “I can’t believe you got this for me,” I said as I tried to get it clasped around my wrist.
Chance pushed my hand away and clasped it for me. He held my hand and looked at it on my wrist. “It looks good on you.”
I was overwhelmed with emotion. “I think you deserve an award for best boyfriend ever.”
Chance burst out laughing. “Last night you were on the verge of breaking up with me.”
I shook my head and smiled. “That was drunk me talking. I never would have done it.”
I climbed out of the treehouse. When I made it halfway down the ladder, I looked up at him. I can’t believe how lucky I am. I can’t believe he loves me. He’s so perfect, I thought as I stared up at him. He was still sitting there. He’d pulled out his phone and was typing away. “You coming?” I asked, wondering who he was texting.
He smiled and put his phone in his pocket. “Yeah. Let’s get this shitshow over with so we can get back home.”