Date: Tue, 04 Feb 2003 14:47:13 -0500
From: bccccand@netscape.net
Subject: Metropolitan Romance-1

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction, and any
resemblance to real people or events is coincidental.  It
contains descriptions of sex between adult men.  If you are
offended by this type of material, or if you are forbidden
by law to read it, please exit the story now.  E-mail
comments are gratefully accepted.

Metropolitan Romance

  Prologue

  As I stood in the pulpit looking out over an empty
sanctuary, I began to reflect on all the changes that had
happened in the last year. Who could have foreseen my
becoming the pastor of the Metropolitan Community Church I
had now agreed to serve. So many losses and so much pain
left me unsure as to whether I even wanted to go on with
life. A year ago, I was married with two growing sons and a
career as a minister in a mainstream denomination. But a
drunk driver took all that away from me. My only consolation
was that death had been quick and my family hadn't suffered.
I suffered in my grief, not knowing what to do next. Well
meaning friends tried to help, but there was little
consolation. I could not find the heart to continue with my
ministry. If I was going to move forward, the only way was
to make radical changes in my life.
  Then one day, fate stepped in. While reading one of many
previously unopened newspapers, I saw an announcement that
the Metropolitan Church needed a pastor. One of the facts
about myself that very few people knew was that I am at
least bi-sexual. From an early age I was aware that I was
attracted to other guys. Maybe if I had grown up in this
more "informed" age I would have found the courage to act on
what was an obvious attraction to me. But I kept my secret
thoughts and desires well hidden, brought out only for my
masturbatory fantasies. I found myself picking out guys that
interested me, but I never got up the nerve to do anything
about it. Except for one time. I screwed up the courage to
approach a friend who had become the object of my lust. I
knew that I loved him and that I was probably in love with
him. I was concerned that if I told him, it might ruin our
friendship. Finally, I could hold it in no longer. My friend
compassionately listened and even accepted my sexuality
without reproach. He was unfortunately very straight. Had he
been interested or perhaps even curious, my life might have
taken quite a different path.
  While I was unlucky in love when it came to other guys, I
found that I did have an attraction to girls as well. And
since that track was easier to follow, I found myself
pursuing a life that, while meaningful in its own way, left
me wondering what could have been. When I consider Frost's
poem, "The Road Less Traveled," I can't help but muse what
life would have been like had I taken the other "road." Now
my life had been derailed. I didn't feel like I was on any
"road" at all. Applying for the position at a church that
ministered directly to gays and lesbians didn't necessarily
guarantee a whole new direction, but it did feel more honest
somehow. I was sure that many of my friends wouldn't
understand, but I also felt like I had nothing to lose. So I
applied, and was a little shocked when I got the job. Here I
stood getting ready to start a whole new life. I could only
wonder where this "road" would take me.

  Chapter 1

  Sitting at my desk, reflecting on yesterday's entry into
a new church, I was reminded that wherever there are people,
there would always be politics. Although the people
clamoring for my attention had a different lifestyle, there
were the same power plays and jockeying for prominence that
is found anywhere. It was a fact that should be obvious. The
only real difference between the people of this congregation
and those of other congregations I had served is that these
people most often were not welcome in those congregations.
The intercom feature of my phone broke my Monday morning
reverie. My secretary, a trans-gendered individual, who
today had shown up in meticulously tailored suit and pumps,
shook me out of my contemplations with a bit too shrill
voice.
  "Rev. Williams, there's a Carol Langley on line one."
  "Loren, please call me Steve. I want us to be informal in
the office," I pleaded.
  "Whatever you say Rev. Williams. This person is insistent
that she talk to you," Loren petulantly responded.
  All right, so I'll fight that battle another time.
  "This is Steve Williams. How may I help you?"
  "Oh Rev. Williams, I hope you can help. It's about my
brother Eric. He's a science teacher at Sommerset and he's
in terrible trouble."
  Her voice sounded desperate. Sommerset was a suburban
school district where all those parents hoping to avoid
minorities had fled to recreate the white America they
remembered when they were in school.
  "Carol, . Is that your name again?"
  "Yes. I'm sorry. My name is Carol Langley. I'm calling
for my brother, Eric Andrews. And he really does need your
help."
  "How may I be of help?"
  "My brother is gay. That's why I'm calling you. As I
said, he's a teacher and a very good one. He has always been
well regarded and his students love him."
  "So what is the problem, Carol?"
  "The school board has learned that he is gay. I think the
parents of a student who was failing Eric's class found out
about his sexuality and they are making a fuss with the
school board to try and get him fired."
  "Surely in this day and age a teacher can't be fired for
being gay."
  "I don't know what they have planned, but the school
board is going to discuss Eric's situation at tonight's
meeting."
  "What exactly do you want me to do, Carol?"
  "I was hoping that you would speak to the board, as sort
of an advocate or something. You know, why a teacher's
sexuality should not be an issue. Would you do that for me,
for Eric? Please!"
  "I'm not exactly sure what my voice will add, but I am
willing to try. Where and when is the meeting being held," I
asked, wondering what I was getting into now.
  "It's at the Town Hall at 8:00 tonight. Oh thank you,
thank you Rev. Williams."
  "I'm not making any promises. I don't really have any
clout with the Sommerset School Board. But your brother
should have some support. Will you be there?"
  "Yes, I'll be there. See you tonight. And thank you
again."
  "You're welcome. See you tonight."
  I hung up the phone and immediately speculated on what
I'd agreed to do. I'd only been in this job two days. I was
hardly an expert in these cases.
  "Loren, I need to speak with you."
  My secretary fortunately knew our congregation a little
better than I, so Loren directed me to a lawyer sympathetic
to the cause. He told me that although they could not fire a
teacher solely on the grounds of his sexuality, there were
all kinds of ways around that, some of which are even legal.
What they would want to avoid is a lot of negative publicity
about their school. Someone in my position might be a
potential public relations threat they would want to
mollify. So, armed with limited knowledge and even less
experience in these things, I found myself at the Sommerset
School Board meeting that very night.

  "Will the meeting please come to order," barked a middle-
aged woman slightly overdressed for the proceedings. And the
circus was on. Not that I was surprised by the homophobic
ranting and railing, but at the pure absence of any
enlightenment at all. There were a few students who bravely
spoke, in obvious defiance of their parents' wishes.
  I could tell by the way the students looked at one man in
particular, that he must be Eric Andrews, the teacher about
whom this meeting was being held. He struck me as a rather
typical teacher. Looked like he could use more sun. But
maybe he was just pale because of what's transpiring. He
appeared to be in his early thirties. He was definitely an
intelligent looking guy and undeniably attractive. His blond
hair was cut conservatively, and his angular, expressive
face was set off by two of the biggest, saddest eyes I had
ever seen. It was hard to determine his physique since he
was sitting down and wearing that tweed coat. I realized
that I had been staring at him for too long and hoped no one
had noticed.
  I finally decided that if my presence was going to have
any significance, it was time to speak.
  "Madame President, if I may address the board."
  "And who are you and what is your purpose in being here
tonight?"
  "I am Rev. Steve Williams of the Metropolitan Community
Church. I am here because a teacher is being maligned for
something that has nothing to do with his qualifications for
being a teacher. With the exception of his students'
affirmations, I have heard nothing of any substance
mentioned about his ability to teach. Are his students' test
scores below par? Is he unable to relate with other
teachers? Have their been any negative evaluations or
reprimands placed in his file? Surely there have been no
charges filed against this man. And yet you speak as if you
don't understand that you are on the verge of losing one of
the most important assets of any school - a dedicated
teacher. The fact that he doesn't walk out of this room and
away from this environment says to me that he has more
commitment to his students than most of the people who are
only concerned about a particular person's private life. I
have been a minister for over twenty years. One thing I have
learned is that if my values won't stand on their own - if
they have to be legislated or forced down someone's throat -
then I need to take a closer look at those values, or at
least at how I am expressing them. I believe our children
are in need of guidance when it comes to sex. But I have
heard nothing here tonight that will address teen
promiscuity, unwanted pregnancies or std's. A science
teacher who has the respect of his students is a tool you
should be using to fight these problems. Instead you fight
with the teacher over something that he has held as private
and personal. Whatever action you take tonight will most
definitely send a signal about values. I hope it will be
about values that really mean something to the future of
these young people. Thank you for your attention."
  Now as a preacher I was used to talking without any
immediate response. The room was however deathly still. I
had no idea whether I had helped the cause or made a bunch
of pseudo rednecks angry. Not another person rose to speak.
Finally the president called for a vote. I wasn't sure what
exactly they were voting on and I'm not convinced they did
either. The vote ended up being five to three, and from the
cheers from the students and the relieved look on the
science teacher's face, it was obviously in his favor.
  "Rev. William, Rev. Williams," a woman's voice called
over the crowd.
  The woman who had been sitting next to the science
teacher started walking toward me. She had to be his sister
Carol.
  "I am ever so glad you could come. I'm sure you made the
difference. How can I ever thank you?"
  She shook my hand like she was pumping an old-fashioned
well.
  "I hope that the board would have been smart enough to
have made the right decision anyway. But I'm glad to have
been here for you and your brother."
  "Please come over here. I want you to meet Eric."
  She dragged me across the room to where some rather
boisterous students were congratulating what was obviously a
well-liked teacher.
  "Eric, this is the minister I was telling you about. I
told you he would come. Rev. Williams, this is my brother,
Eric Andrews. Eric, this is Rev. Williams."
  "Steve. Please call me Steve" I stretched out my hand and
he grasped it.
  "Thank you for coming Steve. I've never even been to your
church. I do appreciate what you did here tonight."
  I began to realize that I hadn't let go of his hand yet.
My eyes seem locked with his. Awkwardly I took back my hand
and began stammering some kind of diversion.
  "That's all right Eric. Glad that I could be of help.
Your sister called and seemed quite upset. I figured my
coming tonight was the least I could do."
  Surely no one noticed how flustered I'd become. What was
happening to me? I'd found other guys attractive before
without making a fool out of myself. Why now? I wasn't some
lovesick teenager. I was forty-seven. Maybe I wasn't really
ready to go down this road after all. I didn't even know
this man and already I could see him figuring into my
fantasies. I had to get a grip. I'm too old for him anyway.
I was painfully aware how important age was in this
equation, and I was quickly becoming an old man in most
circles. Add to that, I never considered myself attractive.
A kind heart and a winning personality might take me far as
a minister, but they didn't do much for me when it came to
catching another man's eye. No. Impressing a man on first
sight was not going to be my strength. I don't know how long
I had been obsessing over all this when I was finally
dragged back to the present.
  "What," I sheepishly replied.
  "I said, we are all going to get a cup of coffee. Would
you like to come with us," Eric asked?
  "Sure. I'd be glad to."
  So we all took off to a nearby diner. Eric and his sister
Carol were there as well as several people who appeared to
be colleagues that I hadn't noticed at the meeting. Spirits
were high and Eric seemed much more relaxed. There was real
warmth between him and the people gathered. I silently
wondered why none of these friends had spoken up at the
meeting. As if in response to my unasked question I
overheard-
  "You know we would have said something tonight if we
thought it would have done any good," one younger woman
stated.
  "I understand," Eric replied.
  Eric was letting them off the hook. That's his business I
guess, but it did seem that some of this support they were
giving him now would have been nice when it really was
needed. But there I go again - being judgmental. It really
was none of my business anyhow. I played the role I was
asked to play and I certainly didn't regret it. So why did
it matter. I must have spaced out again because I suddenly
realized that Eric was speaking to me.
  "Do you do that often? Go off in your own world I mean."
  "Oh, it is a bad habit I seem to have. I guess I get lost
in my own thoughts some times"
  Was I blushing? Surely not at my age. Why was I reacting
like this?
  "I know how that is. My friends are always telling me I
get wrapped up inside my head from time to time. I really do
want to thank you for coming tonight. I'd been warned that
the board was actually stacked against me five to three. You
must have changed a couple of people's minds."
  "I can't take credit for that. Your students were
surprisingly articulate. I was very impressed."
  "I would like to believe that the board really listened
to the students, but I know better. No. You were what made
it happen. I don't know whether you appealed to their reason
or if they were afraid that you were the kind of person who
could make a big stink about this issue. You got their
attention somehow. I sincerely thank you. Is there some way
I can show my appreciation?"
  "Uh-"
  It was amazing that I make my living through public
speaking. On the other hand, you never have to wonder when
speaking to a hundred people, if someone just came on to
you.
  "I mean I cook a pretty mean lasagna if you would be
interested in dinner sometime."
  OK, that seemed pretty direct.
  "Yes, that would be great," I finally muttered out.
  "I imagine Saturday nights aren't good for you, what with
Sunday mornings and all. Would a Friday night work out?
  "Ah, yes. Friday nights are great for me. I'd love to"
  Did I say "love?" It must be very obvious I don't get out
much. Besides, he merely wants to say thanks. He probably
feels he owes me something, since he's not a member of my
church and all. Don't go getting your hopes up Steve. You're
a novice in this game. Don't make a fool out of yourself so
soon.
  "Would this Friday be open? I don't like putting things
off if I don't have to."
  Oh my God. This Friday? What do I say? Do I have anything
planned for this Friday? Do I care? Oh god help me!
  "This Friday sound great. What time and where do you
live?
  I somehow registered the time and place even though my
heart was in my throat. I really am too old for this. I
haven't been on a date since I was twenty.
  I made it home and then through the week, although I
remembered very little of it. Everything was a blur, as I
could only seem to concentrate on my upcoming dinner date.
No. It wasn't really a date; it was just a thank you dinner.
Then why was I worried about what to wear?
  On the drive to Eric's house I considered turning around
and going home at least three times. Somehow I found the
courage to actually pull up in front of his house. It was an
old Victorian with all the carved trimming and a front porch
that went half way around the house. The yard was carefully
groomed. This man takes good care of the place. I wondered
how much he had to pay for something like this. It's in an
old neighborhood, but all the houses seemed to be in good
condition. What am I now, a real estate agent? Or am I only
stalling? Well, here goes nothing. As I walked up the steps,
Eric met me at the door. Could he be as nervous as I am?
Certainly not. I'm sure he's had a lot more experience at
this than I have. He couldn't have any less.
  "Steve, you're right on time. Did you have any trouble
finding the place?"
  "No, your directions were perfect. Besides I grew up in
this town, so I pretty well know my way around. I haven't
ever been in this neighborhood as far as I can remember."
  "I enjoy the area. Most people stay primarily to
themselves. Every once in a while, somebody will make
homemade ice cream in the summer, and we'll all gather
round. All in all, a good group of neighbors."
  "I used to make a lot of homemade ice cream. It's
actually one of my specialties."
  "Next time the neighbors get together I'll have to call
you so you can whip up a freezer full."
  Did he say next time? Oh God, tell me that means he might
like to have a relationship. Don't get ahead of yourself,
Steve. This is just dinner. Don't force anything. Let
whatever happens, happen.
  "Come on in. Dinner is about ready. I could take you on a
tour of the house if you're interested."
  "Most definitely. I love old houses. My wife and I used
to watch HGTV all the time."
  Did I already mention my wife? I hadn't been there five
minutes. Maybe I'm not cut out for this kind of thing.
  "I really like some of the episode of `This Old House.'
Give me a man with power tools."
  Whew. He rescued me out of that one. I wonder what kind
of "power tools" he means?
  "Did you buy the house like this, or have you had to do
much work on it?
  "Oh no, it was a broken down eyesore when I bought it. My
brother-in-law said I was crazy to take on a project like
this. But it's been a labor of love. I've worked on it now
for ten years this summer. I think the neighbors were so
grateful to have somebody fixing up the place that they
didn't mind having a queer on the block. All the women
wanted to help me decorate and some of the men have even
pitched in and helped on some of the bigger projects.
Reshingling that steep roof was a real bitch. Oh, I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to swear."
  "Trust me, that's not a problem. My sons used to rib me
about my foul mouth all the time."
  Shit! First I mentioned my wife and now I mention the
boys. Why don't I sabotage this thing from the beginning?
  "I get kind of carried away talking about the house. It's
been a real passion of mine for quite awhile now."
  "It's something to be proud of, that's for sure."
  After a definitely a shaky start, the tour began. The
house was truly a work of art. This man certainly knew what
he was doing. The craftsmanship and the details were
incredible. The woodwork alone must have been a Herculean
task.
  "I don't suppose the woodwork came finished."
  "There had to have been at least eight coats of paint on
every piece of wood. I had to find someone to do millwork,
because much of the banister was missing."
  "Did you refinish the hardwood floors yourself?"
  "Yea. I became quite adept with a drum sander before all
three stories were done."
  "You even refinished the third floor?"
  "My sister claims I'm compulsive about things like that.
I can't let something go undone."
  The tour proved that the interior of the house was more
impressive than the exterior. This place ought to be written
up in a magazine or something. There was a huge living room
or parlor, an enormous dining room, a large kitchen that had
been modernized with all the conveniences, a downstairs half-
bath and a room that went across the whole back of the house
that was being used as a family room. The living room and
dining room both had large brick fireplaces with carved
mantles. A curving staircase led upstairs to four very large
bedrooms. The master bedroom had a bathroom/dressing room
suite. Another staircase led up to a third floor ballroom
complete with bar.
  "Do you do a lot of entertaining? This house could be
party central."
  "I've been so busy remodeling I haven't had time to do
much socializing. It's been kind of a all-consuming
project."
  "I can imagine it has. This is absolutely incredible."
  The tour ended with us back in the kitchen. He seemed to
have everything under control. This was one organized man. I
started to feel awkward again, not knowing quite what to
say.
  "Is there anything I can do to help?
  "You could pour the drinks. I have water, iced tea, or
there is wine if you do that sort of thing."
  "Oh wine, most definitely."
  He directed me to a wine rack where I picked out a merlot
that looked familiar. The corkscrew was right at hand, of
course. I was pouring two glasses of wine when he started
bringing out the food. He'd even prepared an antipasto
plate. The food was delicious, not surprisingly. I wondered
if there is anything this man didn't do well? Conversation
through dinner became smoother as we found that we had
similar tastes in music and literature. We even touched on
politics without getting in trouble. I eventually realized
that we had been talking and eating for over two hours. I
can't remember when I had had a more enjoyable meal. He
refused to let me help with clearing the dishes. Said his
mother always contended that company was to be enjoyed, not
worked.
  As the evening drew to a close I frantically realized
that I hadn't thought through an exit plan. How do you end
an evening like this? What are his expectations now? So far
it hadn't mattered whether or not it was a date or just
dinner. But now-  Damn! Do I offer to reciprocate the
dinner? Do you kiss on the first date? Part of me wanted to
wave goodbye and make a mad dash out the door. Another part
of me wanted to drag him to the floor and get naked.  Eric
fortunately picked up the slack.
  "I'm very glad you were able to come tonight. I am
extremely grateful for your help with the school board. A
friend of mine who is in on all the scoop was convinced that
the decision to fire me one way or another had already been
made. I do believe you were responsible for stemming the
tide. I suppose I could have found another teaching position
somewhere else, but I enjoy teaching these kids."
  "There was absolutely no reason for you to have to go
anywhere else. But I'm sure I can't take that much credit."
  "My friend in the know thinks they were afraid of you
because you have a lengthy history in `traditional'
religion."
  "What they don't know is that I have never been
`traditional.' When people got to know me, they would often
say, `I can't believe you are a minister.'"
  We both chuckled over that and then found ourselves once
again in an uneasy silence. I knew I had to do something,
even if I made a fool out of myself. I was not going to look
back on tonight like I had on so many other times in my
life, and regret what I didn't do.
  "I would like to see you again. Would you be interested
in getting together? You wouldn't have to cook."
  "Yes, I would like to do that."
  "How about we go out to eat and then to a movie. I'm kind
of a movie freak and would be up to seeing about anything."
  "That sounds good to me."
  "I have next Friday open. Would that work for you? I
could call you later in the week.
  "Next Friday sounds fine."
  I stood there wondering whether I should kiss him, hug
him or shake his hand. Once again he filled the void by
grasping my hand with both of his and thanking me for my
support. I finally backed out the door and out to my car. As
I drove away, I discovered that I had been hardly breathing;
I was so tense. Shit. What do I do now?

  I didn't have to worry about a lot of time on my hands to
sit around and fret. Things at the church really started
hopping. The sponsors for the Monday night PFLAG group quit.
Seems they were mad about something. I'd have to work things
out with them later. One young man struggling with AIDS went
back into the hospital. A distraught teenage boy came to my
office. His parents kicked him out of the house when he came
out to them. Through all of this, Loren proved a lifesaver
at keeping me focused on the problems at hand.
  At first I thought Loren didn't like me. There was
definitely a group in the church who didn't trust the new
"bisexual" minister. I realize playing for both teams
hinders feelings of loyalty. However, I didn't choose how I
am any more than anyone else did. Loren seemed to be warming
up to me, though.  I was definitely grateful, because Loren
was quickly becoming indispensable.
  Finally, it was Thursday, and I knew I needed to call
Eric. Of course I wanted to talk to him, but I couldn't get
rid of the nagging fear that I was setting myself up for a
big rejection. Being thankful for my help with the school
board was a lot different from wanting to explore a
relationship. I realized that I had already gotten my hopes
up that something would work out between us-maybe even
something special. Oh God, how do I get myself into these
things.

  **********

  He stopped grading papers to answer the phone, irritated
at the interruption.
  "Hello, this is Eric."
  "Hey brother, how's it going?"
  "Hey, sis. I was trying to get caught up on my grading.
All that hassle with the school board put me behind
schedule."
  "You are so anal. I bet grades aren't due for a long
time."
  "Ha, ha, ha. Just because I like getting things done in a
timely manner."
  "Speaking of a timely matter, have you talked with that
nice minister?"
  "You mean Steve? No. I haven't. Not that it's any of your
business."
  "Somebody has to watch out for you or you'll stay cooped
up in that house grading papers all your life."
  "I know, sis. He is a nice guy, but I don't know if I'm
ready for a relationship right now. I enjoy my teaching and
my house. I don't know if I want any complications at the
present."
  "Those `complications' are what life is all about. Can
you honestly tell me you don't want a relationship?"
  "It's not that easy. The rules for gay relationships
aren't the same."
  "Eric, I don't pretend to understand what you go through.
But I don't want to see you unhappy."
  "I know, sis, and I appreciate your concern."
  "I love you. You know that don't you?"
  "Yes, I know that. And I love you too, Carol. But I have
to take these things at my own speed."
  "Just as long as you realize that standing still isn't a
speed."
  "OK, OK. I get the point. How's my favorite nephew
doing?"
  "Nice change of subject. Jared is doing fine. He's going
out for track. He's going to run the low hurdles."
  "Just like his dad."
  "Paul ran the hurdles in high school and college."
  "Jared's a chip off the old block, isn't he?"
  "I worry sometimes that he tries too hard to impress his
father. Neither one of them listens to me. Just like you.
Men! Sometimes I wish I wasn't surrounded by men."
  "Don't give me that. You love it. You wouldn't have it
any other way."
  "I keep hoping Jared will bring home some nice girl that
might possibly side with me once in a while."
  "I thought he was dating a cheerleader."
  "They broke up. Nothing ever gets very serious with him."
  "Sis, he's just playing the field. He'll be fine."
  "I know. A mother worries, that's all."
  "Well this teacher needs to get back to work."
  "I'll talk to you later, Eric."

  He no longer got back to grading tests when the phone
rang again.

  "Yes," he said with some irritation.
  "Hello. Is this Eric?"
  "Yes."
  "Ah, this is Steve, Steve Williams, the minister."
  "Oh, hi Steve."
  "If this is a bad time to call, I can call back later."
  "No, No. I'm in the middle of grading tests. My sister
called a few minutes ago. I thought it was her again,
razzing me about something else."
  "Sibling pestering never actually goes away, does it?"
  "We're actually pretty close. It does give her the
feeling she can nose into my personal life when ever she
wants to, however."
  "Well - we had talked about possibly getting together,
but if this weekend is bad -"
  "No. I do need a break, I suppose. What did you have in
mind?"
  "I wondered if you would be interested in maybe going to
a movie tomorrow. Perhaps we could get something to eat
before or after the show?"
  "Sure, that sounds great. Did you have a particular movie
in mind?"
  "Have you seen `Freida?' Several of the people here at
church recommend it."
  "I haven't seen it. In fact I haven't seen many movies
lately. Sounds good to me."
  "We could either go to an earlier show and get something
to eat after, or the other way around."
  "If it doesn't matter to you, I would rather eat after.
Then we don't have to rush or worry about being late to the
show."
  "You like being places on time, don't you?"
  "My sister says I'm anal. In fact she just said that a
few minutes ago."
  "Nothing wrong in being punctual. The first show is at
7:00. How about I pick you up at 6:15?"
  "Sounds great. See you then."

  I certainly hope this works. Eric seems like such a nice
guy. I wonder how `anal' he really is? Good grief, Steve.
Don't get ahead of yourself or anything. You have no idea if
he is even slightly attracted to you. You are older than
him. I hate it when I talk to myself like this. Especially
when I seem to be losing the argument. Oh well. Tomorrow
will tell me more about what Eric might be interested in
pursuing. I wish I didn't have such high expectations. What
can I say? Fools never learn.

  **********

  Friday night finally arrived. Did I worry this much about
what to wear when I was a teenager? I can't believe I'm this
nervous. I wonder what stupid thing I'm going to do tonight.
As I drove up to Eric's house, my palms were so sweaty it
was a miracle I could steer. He greeted me at the door.
  "I forgot to ask which theater we were going to."
  "'Freida' is only showing at the Crown. Of course all the
metroplexes are pretty much alike. I kind of miss the big
old theaters," I interjected.
  "I do too. I used to go every Saturday. My friends and I
would sneak in our own candy. You had to get there early to
sit on the front row."
  "We used to do that, too. We lived close enough we could
walk. We spent a good part of the day getting there,
watching the movie and returning home. We would act out
whatever the movie was as we walked home."
  "Kind of a trip down memory lane," Eric grinned as he
replied.
  Shit!
  Was I making myself look older with all this nostalgia? I
don't have a clue what I'm doing. This night already has
disaster written all over it. Why is it that the more you
want to make a good impression, the goofier you look? If I
could just make myself relax.
  We made it to the theater without another major faux pas.
The movie was quite good. The fact that one of the
characters was a lesbian couldn't have hurt. But now it was
time for dinner. During the movie you don't have to talk.
Let's see if my conversation skills and witty repartee would
fail me.
  "I thought Caf^Â Mediterranean would be fun. Does that
sound good to you, Eric?"
  "Sure. I haven't eaten there in quite a while."
  Hopefully that's not because he doesn't like it and is
too polite to tell me. We arrived at the restaurant and both
ordered fatouche salads. Remembering that he served wine
with dinner, I suggested a bottle for the two of us.
Everything seemed to be going smoothly, but I kept asking
myself if he was just being nice. We laughed a lot. It
didn't feel like nervous laughter. I couldn't help it; I was
really getting hooked on this guy. Oh please God, please let
him like me.
  "Steve, the movie and dinner were fantastic. I've had a
wonderful evening."
  Does that mean he wants the evening to end? I have no
idea how to take the next step. I do not want our time
together to end yet. Do I dare invite him back to my
apartment? Is that too forward. For Christ's sake, Steve, do
something before it's too late.
  "We could have dessert at my apartment. I don't have
anything fancy, but I do have some ice cream."
  He has to think about it. Oh my God I've done it now.
I've ruined everything by being impatient. Why couldn't I
have kept my cool?
  "Sure, that sounds good."
  Did he just say yes? Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you.
  We got back to my apartment, which I had thought to
clean, just in case. I served us bowls of cookie dough ice
cream and we sat on the couch. I felt so comfortable with
him. It would be so great if he felt somewhat the same.
  "Eric, I've had a wonderful time tonight. I enjoy your
company."
  Should I go on? Tell him I'm interested in pursuing more?
If I don't do it, I'll kick myself again.
  "Eric, I like you. I want to be upfront and tell you that
I think we might be able to have a relationship and I would
like to explore that possibility. But I don't know if you
are really interested or not. I haven't asked anybody out in
a long, long time, so I don't know if I'm doing it right.
Are you at all interested in going out with me?"
  The whole time I'd been talking, Eric had been intensely
examining his shoes. My statement was followed by a long
pause.
  This doesn't look good. I can't get up and run out the
door because it's my apartment. Oh please, Eric, just
answer.
  "Steve --- Steve, I don't know what to say. I have
enjoyed this evening. You are fun to be around. But I don't
know about a relationship."
  "It's all right, Eric, I shouldn't have pressed. There
was no reason for me to assume that you were interested in
anything like that."
  "About the school board meeting - I am grateful for what
you did."
  "Look, Eric, about that. I was glad to be at the meeting
and I'm happy if my presence in some way helped. But you
don't owe me anything. I would do that for any brother in
trouble. You didn't deserve that harassment. Let's just
leave it at that. I've appreciated getting to know you."
  At this point, neither one of us quite knew what to say.
After an awkward silence, I decided enough was enough.
  "Eric, thanks again for this evening. I'll take you home
whenever you're ready."
  "OK"

  Thus ended my first date that turned out not to be a date
after all. We rode to his house in silence, and after a
terse goodbye, we went our separate ways. I didn't know
whether I felt rejected, embarrassed or disappointed. I did
know I didn't feel good. It was unrealistic to think I could
hit a home run at my first turn at the plate. Especially
when I'd been out of the game for so long.
  Relationships are difficult. How do we ever come to
understand someone else. Maybe that is why so many
relationships fail. It is so much work and we lay ourselves
on the line, open to so much potential hurt. So he didn't
like me that way. Why should he? Just because I felt that
way about him? Two people looked each other over and it
wasn't going to work. Nothing more. Then why do I feel like
I've missed out on something important. Could my feelings be
that strong in such a short amount of time? Here I am again,
wondering about what could have been. So much of my life,
wondering about what could have been.

  **********

  Back in the office next Monday morning, I must have been
wearing a sign around my neck, poor miserable wretch.
Everyone asked `what's wrong,' a question I avoided like the
plague. The last thing I wanted to talk about this morning
was my failure in the relationship department. Obviously
Loren didn't take the hint and strode into my office.
  "Rev. Williams, what the hell is going on? Why are you
moping around with your tail between your legs?"
  "Loren, I don't want to talk about it, OK?"
  "No. It's not OK. Your personal life is your business,
but when you come in here like something out of the morgue,
you can't expect us to overlook it. So spill it so we can
get on with the day."
  "I'm moved by your sympathy. If you must know, Eric and I
went out the other night and he told me he's not interested
in a relationship. Satisfied?
  "You mean the science teacher from Sommerset?"
  "Yes, the science teacher from Sommerset."
  "You really liked him, didn't you?"
  "Yes, I did. Loren. Do you believe in love at first
sight?"
  "Well, I can't say I've had any experience with it. But I
do think that there are times when two people click, almost
instantaneously."
  "In this case, only one person clicked. Me. I can't seem
to get him out of my mind. I tell myself it's because he's
the first person I've thought of in that way when since, -
well, you know. But something in my heart won't let it go. I
sound like some lovesick school girl who's crushed because
the captain of the football team won't go out with me."
  "Listen, Steve. I'm the last person in the world to be
giving advice on love. Hell, I'm not even sure I know what
love is. People have been telling me I'm confused for as
long as I can remember. But you can't let this get you down.
All this self pity isn't healthy."
  "I don't want to wallow in it, I merely want to swim
around in it for awhile. It's not the end of the world. I'm
aware of that. It's that I don't like being alone. I'm not
very good at it. And I guess I'm a little afraid - afraid
that I'm not going to be able to find someone special in my
life any time soon. Right now, Loren, I'm afraid of the
future."
  "Steve, your whole life had been turned upside down. You
have a right to be afraid. But you said in your sermon
yesterday that we don't have to live in fear. Even in the
midst of our darkest night, we can still have faith that the
morning will come."
  "Since when did you start listening to my sermons?"
  "I have a little confession to make. Before you came
here, I didn't even attend church. I've never been much of a
religious person. The only reason I applied for this job was
because I figured it was one place that might tolerate my
idiosyncrasies. The first week you were here, I tried to be
as flamboyant as I could. And you never even flinched. You
didn't smirk when I came in the room. I know what people say
about me. But you were never condescending. You also never
tried to `fix' me. I have only felt acceptance from you."
  Loren then began to wipe away the tears threatening to
drop.
  "Loren, I've never tried to fix you because I don't
consider you broken. It's my commitment to accept people
where they are, because I believe God accepts us for who we
are."
  "Do you actually believe God accepts me?"
  "I'm sure of it, Loren. As sure of it as I can be. That's
what I believe love is all about."
  "When I was little, my Grams used to say, `God loves you,
Loren, and so do I.' After she died, I don't think anyone
else has loved me since."
  "Your grandmother was a wise woman. What do you think she
would say to you if she were here with you now?"
  "I don't know."
  "Maybe she'd say, `nice pearls.'"
  "She was always making me laugh."
  "Loren, I believe she would say, `God loves you and so do
I.' I trust that those words are exactly what God wants to
say to you, also. Do you remember what your grandmother's
voice sounded like?"
  "Yes."
  "Then hear her voice telling you again. Hear God using
her voice to tell you how wonderful Loren is and how you are
loved for being exactly who you are."
  Loren took a handkerchief to daub at the running eye
shadow.
  "You are good at this, you know. I came in here to cheer
you up and instead, you make feel better. Thank you."
  "Thank you, Loren, for reminding me what is important in
this life. Instead of sitting around bemoaning my sex life,
or the lack there of, I need to focus on human compassion
and understanding. There is too much intolerance out there
to fight, for me to dwell on a date that didn't turn out the
way I wanted. Let's get to work"
  "Right on, chief."

Comments are appreciated.  Email me at bccccand@netscape.net