Two weeks passed, and my life, such as it was, returned to some kind of normal. I emailed Trevor a bunch of notes I had on government. I sent him links that I thought he should check out. I even went so far as to send him a practice test and I cc’d his mom as well. (I’m sure he loved that one, but whatever.)
I did all the things that I thought I needed to do, or at least the things I thought I should do. Trevor Lewis might have hurt me, but that didn’t mean I had to let him know it. It was bad enough that I’d gone to his house. Even now, my cheeks burned when I thought of how his mom had looked at me when I came running out of his room, trying to keep from crying.
She’d taken one look at me and threw her arms around me like I was hers. She’d stroked my hair and told me that I needed to go slow with Trevor. He had issues to work through. His brain injury. His seizure. It was a lot, and he hurt people without meaning to.
After a few moments I pulled away, and I told her that everyone had stuff to deal with. Everyone had scars that didn’t show.
She’d asked me if I was going to keep working with him, and I said that I didn’t think so. I was being honest, and I could tell it wasn’t the answer she’d hoped to hear.
That was the last time I saw Mrs. Lewis.
A few days ago, I’d gotten an email from Trevor, but it was obviously an accident since there wasn’t anything in it. No “hello,” no “hey, I miss you, how are things?” There was nothing. And yet I couldn’t help but wonder, had he been thinking of me? Did I care? Stupid question, that, because I cared a lot. Pathetic, I know.
When I was alone at night, huddled beneath the covers, I cared a whole lot. I’d cried so many tears over the past few weeks that I swear my tear ducts were in danger of malfunctioning. I mean, if that was possible.
Trevor had pretty much broken my heart, and my dad had definitely broken my faith, but at least he and I were working on it. Not that it was a slam dunk or anything. Not even close. There’d been days when I couldn’t even look at him because of all the things I didn’t understand. Like, how could he love my mother and have feelings for someone else? It didn’t matter that it was a guy. What mattered was that he’d made a commitment to my mom. A promise. And he’d broken it.
He’d broken it, and he’d been dishonest about the whole thing. That right there had me all kinds of twisted up inside. To me, honesty equals love and respect. So what did that say about my father? What did that say about our family?
I know that love is love. I truly believe that. I also know that I can go to church and believe in a God who understands that. It’s my God and my faith. I mean, how could a God pick and choose who he loves? How does that even make sense?
Sure, my father being gay was a shock. How could it not be? He’s married to my mother. But it’s not the gay thing that makes me angry. And maybe it doesn’t make sense, but I still can’t forgive him for allowing himself to have those kinds of feelings for someone other than my mom.
Right or wrong, that’s what was inside me. That’s what makes things so hard.
He told me everything. How he’d been in love with Kirk Davies since college. How he’d always thought he was different but hadn’t realized it was because he was gay until he met Kirk. He’d just thought he wasn’t into girls or that he hadn’t met the right one yet.
He even told me of the night he’d shared his realization with his parents. Of how his father had beaten him so badly that he’d ended up in the hospital with his jaw wired shut. (I don’t remember my grandparents because they died in a car crash when I was three.)
My dad had lived a lie his whole life because he thought it was what he had to do in order to survive. He wanted to lead a parish. He loved God, and he wanted to help people. To counsel them and be there for his community. But how could he do that if he was outed?
He told me that he loved Mom. Like really loved her. But that there were all kinds of love, and it was different from what he felt for Kirk. It didn’t lessen it or anything, but it wasn’t what she deserved. And still he struggled with the thought of destroying our family, because he loved me and my brother more than life.
He was at a crossroads and wasn’t sure where to turn or what path to take, and I guess I wasn’t much help. Some nights I screamed at him for destroying everything that I loved. And other nights, we talked like real adults. He was honest with me, and I was honest with him.
It didn’t mean that things were fixed. In fact, they were far from it, and it was only going to get worse. But what it did mean was that his honesty was the first step toward healing, and I hoped, it would be enough.
I guess only time would tell.
Just last night, he’d asked me my thoughts on his sermon today. I knew that he was planning on putting himself out there and that it was going to be the hardest thing he’d ever done. I might only be seventeen years old, so, you know, my opinion wasn’t exactly worldly or anything, but I told him that I thought living a lie (which is basically what I’d done for the entire year) was kind of cowardly. And that being honest was the bravest thing a person could be.
“Hey, you almost ready?”
It was Sunday, and Hailey had slept over the night before. We’d spent most of it watching Friday Night Lights on Netflix and talking about nothing besides Tim Riggins (most tragic dude ever) and the bitchy Julie (how could she break Matt’s heart?). Hales made me laugh, and we’d drank enough soda and eaten enough chips to feed a small country.
She didn’t mention Link, even though I knew they were still serious, and she sure as heck didn’t mention Trevor. She’d done what she always did; she’d just been there for me.
Today Hailey was breaking code and coming to church with me instead of sleeping in because, well, life as I knew it was about to change, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t going to hit that upward curve we all dreamed about.
“Yep, we should head over soon,” I answered. I leaned into the mirror and applied some gloss before stepping back.
“So, your mom, she knows what your dad’s gonna do?”
I nodded. “She was home with Isaac a few days ago but decided to go back to my uncle’s. She just thought this was going to be too hard for Isaac, and well, she’s pretty devastated, you know? She’s not doing very well.”
“Was she mad that you stayed here?”
“I don’t think she’s mad, but she wanted me with her. She’s confused and hurt by everything, and I think she just wishes it was all over. She’s supposed to be coming back next week, but I’m not sure that’s going to happen. And poor Isaac, he’s like this little confused puppy dog. This is going to be hard on him. Hard on everybody.”
I missed her so much. I swiped at my eyes. Don’t cry. Not today.
Hales walked up behind me, slipping her arms around my waist and staring at me in the mirror as she leaned her head on my shoulders.
“Well, I think it’s great that you’re supporting your dad the way you are. I don’t know if I could…I mean, I love my dad even if he’s the biggest grump on the planet, but if he came home and told me he was gay, I’d freak the hell out. I’d eat at least one hundred cartons of ice cream and end up in the hospital or something.”
“Um, impossible to eat one hundred cartons of ice cream. Besides, that’s a little bit of an overreaction, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know, Everly. The gay thing is worth at least eighty cartons.”
I made a face in the mirror. “Maybe seventy-five.”
She giggled but fell silent as soon as our eyes met in the mirror. “It’s going to be tough, you know that, right? Like, people are going to talk and they might say some really awful things. Not everyone is forward-thinking in this town. Heck, in this country. It’s just the way it is.”
“I know, but I’ve got you in my corner, right?”
She stood back. “Yep. You do. So, we gonna do this or what?”
I blew out a long breath. “Thanks for everything, Hales.”
“No problem. I’m the sunshine to your KC.”
Okay. “Um, what?” We were heading down the stairs.
“You know. KC and the Sunshine Band? They’re, like, older than retro so I’m not surprised that you’ve never heard of them. Your taste in music is pretty pathetic.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Yep, that’s me. The rock to your roll. The snap and crackle to your pop.”
By the time we reached her car, I was laughing, though that didn’t last long, because when we reached the church, the parking lot was packed. Like sardine packed, and I glanced at Hailey nervously as we pulled in behind my dad’s car in our family spot. I spied Mrs. Henney walking up the steps, and she hadn’t been to service in at least six months.
“Go figure, everyone’s decided they need to worship today,” I said woodenly, staring at my hands. At the chipped blue polish I’d meant to replace.
“You don’t have to do this, you know. Your dad will understand.”
I knew he would. He’d told me to stay home, but how could I? He needed me, and even though a part of me was still confused and upset, he was my dad and I loved him. All of him. Even the parts that I didn’t know all that well. The ones he’d kept secret.
“I’m going in,” I said quietly, reaching for the door.
“Okay, Captain,” Hales said. “I’m right behind you. Just don’t expect me to sing or anything, because we both know I can’t carry a tune. Like seriously. Remember in fifth grade when Mrs. Yancy told me not to sing the national anthem? Remember?”
“I remember.”
“I mean, she had no right, but she totally called it. Honestly, I love you, Everly, but I have to draw the line somewhere.”
“Noted.”
“I mean it, Everly. If things go bad in there and you decide that you want some comic relief, do not look my way. I tell a joke worse than I sing.”
“Okay.” I was grinning again, and once inside the church, I tried to keep my spirits up.
“I mean, it’s not like I wouldn’t try or anything. You know, in a pinch if you, like, really needed me. I could, you know, pretend I’m in Glee and break into Gaga or Britney. Or, oooh, I know, I could sing an Adam Lambert song if you think that would help. You know, hit them over the head with the whole gay thing instead of easing them into it.”
Ah, Hales. The girl always knew how to make me smile.
“I think we’re good.”
Dad was already at his pulpit, arranging notes, his fingers shuffling them nervously. I walked up to him, and my first inclination was to give him a hug. He looked like he needed one badly.
I hesitated, and when I would have stepped back, he scooped me into his arms. He held me until the stiffness in my limbs and muscles faded.
And I let him.
I was cold, and my stomach felt pretty bad, so I could imagine what he was feeling.
“You came,” he whispered near my ear.
“Wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
He stared down at me, and I saw the new lines around his eyes, the dark circles underneath, and the magnitude of what he was going to do hit me so hard that my knees buckled.
“Hey, sweets. Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, a little shaky. “I’m good. I just…do you have to do this? I mean, can’t we…can’t you just, I don’t know, be yourself without having to make an announcement?”
He was silent for a few seconds as he glanced over my head at the people gathered behind us. “No,” he whispered. “I’ve been hiding and lying my whole life, and if I’m going to lead and counsel and be there for these people, I need to be honest about who I am. I need to show them that…”
“Love is love?”
He kissed my forehead. “Yes. Love is love. Things are going to get rough.”
“I know. That’s why I’m here.” I gazed up at him and hoped he saw what was in my heart. “No more lies. Be brave. All in.” Wow. I was starting to sound like Coach Taylor.
“You’re amazing, you know that?”
“I do,” I quipped and attempted a smile.
He paused. “Have you talked to Trevor? Is he going to be here for you?”
I shook my head, lips tight. “No. We’re still not… We’re not together.”
“Oh Everly. I’m sorry. You’re sure this has nothing to do with me?”
I heard his concern and tried to smile. “I’m sure.”
“Okay.” He glanced over my head. “Okay. It’s time.”
I smoothed the front of my dress and walked around the pulpit, bypassing the piano that I normally sat at for opening hymn. I spotted a few kids from the youth group, which I’d pretty much ditched over the last few weeks, and I gave a small wave. Two of them waved back, the Charnish twins, but the other girl, Joanne DuPonte, did the whole “I’m going to pretend I didn’t see you” thing. I had no idea if she was mad because I’d ditched youth group or had some other reason for being so high school. Whatever. I had more important things to worry about. I crossed over to where Hailey sat in the front row and squeezed in beside her. Mrs. Gentry, our treasurer, was in her usual spot, and I gave a small smile as I settled back and tried to relax. Kind of hard when every muscle in my body was tight.
My dad cleared his throat into the microphone, there was some feedback, and the entire congregation went silent. Like you could drop a pin in the choir box and everyone would have heard it. There were no crying babies or shuffling of feet. There were no whispers or giggles from the little kids. No coughs or sneezes. It was like someone had pressed the mute button.
There was nothing. There was my dad and the congregation.
Hailey’s hand found mine, and we held hands like we used to when we were little. I exhaled slowly and looked up at my dad.
His eyes were on me, those electric blue eyes that I’d loved since I could remember, vibrant and alive. He smiled, a reassuring warm smile, and I noticed the sunbeams coming in, bathing him in the light that I’d missed for so long.
He was everything that was good. Everything that was kind and compassionate. Things would be okay, wouldn’t they?
I mean how could these people not see the beauty and kindness in front of them? Why should they even care about who he loved in his private time, when it was so obvious that he loved them all?
My heart swelled, looking up at him, but when he started speaking, I didn’t hear his words. I was too caught up in the sunbeams, too hypnotized by their magic as the light moved around him like it was alive.
I thought of my mother and my heart constricted, because I knew hers was broken. I just hoped that one day she’d find someone who could love her the way that she deserved to be loved. All in and full of bravery.
It’s what all of us deserve. Pretty simple, really.
Even someone who thinks that they don’t deserve it. Someone like Trevor Lewis.