Date: Wed, 19 Feb 2003 23:30:49 -0500
From: bccccand@netscape.net
Subject: Metropolitan Romance-4

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 this
type of material offends you, or if you are forbidden by law
to read it, please exit the story now.  E-mail comments are
gratefully accepted.

  Metropolitan Romance-4

  The next Monday night, both Mrs. Carlisle and her son
Brad came to the church. We have a meeting for the parents
and friends and a general support group for the youth that
meet at the same time. That way, if parents and youth come
together, there is something specific for both. The adult
group was an established support group with experienced
leaders. I knew Mrs. Carlisle was in good hands. I attended
the youth support group. I was more concerned about Brad at
this point. I often left the youth alone with a youth
counselor, Sarah, who is excellent. I though she might need
some backup for some of the issues Brad could raise.
  "Welcome Rev. Williams. We are glad you could join us
tonight,"
  Sarah enthusiastically welcomed everyone who attended.
Brad was already there, but was sitting as far away as
possible. Sarah went around the room inviting each person to
share as much about themselves as they wished as an
introduction. Brad gave his name and nothing more. Sarah
gave me an inquiring look, but I raised my eyebrows and
added nothing. The meeting went along as usual, with each
youth telling or retelling their story. One young man was
recounting how he had been abused by a stepfather. I knew a
little of the history and the stepfather was a true piece of
work. While he was in mid-sentence, Brad interrupted.
  "That's nothing. My old man shot the preacher."
  That brought everything to a halt. The whole group looked
first at Brad and then turned to me. I assumed that meant I
was supposed to say something.
  "Bob Carlisle was the man who shot me. He is currently in
jail awaiting trial."
  "I hope he rots in Hell," Brad shouted.
  If I wanted Brad to let things out, I was getting my
wish. I only hoped the group could hold it together. Most
everyone was now glaring at Brad.
  "Brad gave you his opinion of his desires for his fathers
eternal condition. As you may be painfully aware, there are
injuries that do not heal as quickly as a gunshot wound.
Brad has plenty of reasons for being angry with his father,"
I offered to the group.
  Recognition began to show on the faces of the people
assembled in that room. The young man who was interrupted
stood up and went over to Brad.
  "It really sucks having an asshole for a father."
  With this, Brad began to sob. Sarah was instantly by his
side as well, encouraging him to express his grief and his
rage. It was obvious from their expressions that the group
was now in full rescue mode. It never failed to amaze me how
the human spirit could continue to respond to so much pain.
Every person in the group had their own wounds, their own
hurts, but they would rise above it to help someone out of
the abyss of a destructive family. I went to my office to
have a little time alone. A lot of things had happened in
one short hour. I was surprised to find Eric sitting in my
office.
  "Is the boy going to be all right," Eric asked.
  I must have had a puzzled look on my face.
  "I was eavesdropping. I know I shouldn't have. I came
looking for you. Someone told me you would be in that room.
When I went to the door, I could hear the conversation. I
should have walked away, but I stood there for the longest
while. When the boy began to cry, I came here. I'm sorry.
  "It's not a problem. The meetings are confidential, but I
trust you. We may need to consider come soundproofing
though. I can imagine some unhealthy situations that could
arise out of overheard discussions."
  "You're not mad at me?"
  "No. No, I'm not mad at you. What brings you here
tonight?"
  "I wanted to talk to you. But I can see this is a bad
time. I don't know what I was thinking."
  "Eric, this isn't a bad time at all. My presence isn't
needed in the group. In fact, they will do better now
without me. I don't really share their experience. It makes
me somewhat of an outsider, to tell the truth. Sarah, the
counselor will do fine. What did you want to talk about with
me?"
  "I wanted to talk about us."
  "That's my favorite topic."
  "How can you be so patient with me? I keep leading you
on, then pushing you away. I would think you'd give up on
me," Eric said while memorizing the weave of the carpet.
  "Eric? Eric, look at me. I understand why this isn't easy
for you. To a point, it's you hesitation that has made my
feelings more clear. I know I want to be with you and I'm
willing to wait until you know what you want to do. Is that
so hard to accept?"
  "The only other person who has been that patient with me,
that has cared that much for me, is my sister, Carol. I
think I had become resigned to the fact that she would be
the only one."
  "That puts me in some pretty good company. Remember, I've
already encountered you big sister's protective side. I was
going to attend that school board meeting or I knew there
would be Hell to pay."
  Eric smiled for the first time that evening. I suspect we
both spent a few moments reliving the school board meeting
and some times after that. I crossed the room that had been
separating us and knelt in front of him.
  "Eric, I love you. I know it with all my heart. And as
long as there is chance you might love me in return, even
someday, then I will be here. There is no where else I want
to be."
  "Can you come home with me?"
  I didn't dare assume what this request meant. I also knew
I wouldn't say no. We had to take two cars because neither
one of us wanted to leave a car at the church. I would
rather have been with him. It seemed a bad time to be apart.
But we were at his house before long. I wanted to recreate
some of the moment so I walked to him, put my arms around
him, and held him tightly. It felt so right to have him in
my arms. I so wanted this to work. He lifted his head from
my shoulder where it had been resting. He brought his face
to mine and gently kissed me. My heart wanted to beat right
out of my chest. Soon our kissing became more passionate. My
mind was losing control of the situation and my body was
taking the lead. Then, as suddenly as we had started, Eric
stopped. With tears in his eyes he pleadingly gazed into
mine.
  "I do love you, Steve. Help me learn how to trust you. I
want to be able to give myself to you and not hold back
anymore. Can you wait for me while I learn to trust?"
  "For the rest of my life, Eric. For the rest of my life."
  He then led me by the hand, up the stairs to his bedroom.
I hoped against all hope that soon it would be our bedroom.
But if he were going to develop trust, I would have to go
slowly. I didn't mind letting him lead. It wasn't actually
very late, but I was emotionally drained, and I suspected he
was as well. Without words, we both undressed. It felt sort
of like a Charlie Chaplin routine, where I matched him piece
for piece as each article of clothing was removed. It may
have been taking the idea of letting him lead too literally,
but I wasn't going to take any risks at this point. As if it
had been choreographed, we both got into bed from opposite
sides. He had stripped all the way, so naturally I had also.
We came together in the center of the bed and melted into
one another. It couldn't have felt more perfect. The
intertwining of our arms, our legs, our lips, transformed us
from two men into one. Gently kissing and stroking, we
surprisingly seemed more peaceful than aroused. The intimacy
of the moment was far more important than sexual
gratification. Soon, we drifted off to sleep, still holding
on to one another.
  We were in almost the same position when the alarm
sounded. I would have given anything to have been able to
pulverize that interruption to our time together. I was
ready to call the office and cancel absolutely anything on
my agenda. Eric, I knew, would want to report to his
teaching. We both were now awake and smiling at each other.
That was definitely a good sign. If the morning had brought
regrets, I would have been crushed.
  He kissed me again and went to take a shower. He said I
could stay in bed while he got ready for school. I took the
opportunity, however, to fix him breakfast. I was in the
kitchen, wearing a borrowed robe when he came up behind me
and put his arms around my waist, kissing my neck.
  "You didn't have to make me breakfast. I usually grab a
bagel or something."
  "I wanted to do something for you. You have done so much
for me while I was recuperating."
  "Well, thank you. It is nice for a change."
  The morning routine concluded as the picture of
domesticity, including a kiss as he walked out the door. I
could get used to this in a hurry. I had to get dressed in
the same clothes form the day before, so I went home to
shower and prepare for the day.
  Later that morning, I was sitting in my office, when
Loren announced that there was a phone call.
  "Good morning, this is Steve Williams."
  "Is this the Steve Williams I held all night in my arms,
sleeping in my bed."
  "If this is an obscene phone call, don't stop."
  "You fool, I was trying to be romantic."
  "And I thought you called for some phone sex."
  "I'm in the teachers' lounge for God's sake," he
snickered.
  "I love you, Eric Andrews."
  "And I love you, Steve Williams."
  "I'm glad you called. I was missing you."
  I had to pray I wasn't pressing to hard.
  "That's why I called. I miss you too. Can we get together
again tonight?"
  Hallelujah!
  "Nothing could keep me away. What time do you want me to
be there."
  "I usually get home by 4:30."
  "That's when I'll be there."
  "I love you, Steve."
  "I love you, Eric."
  "See you later."
  "Until then."
  From that point on, the day dragged by unmercifully. I
made some hospital visitations and was at Eric's house by
4:15. He pulled into the driveway shortly after I arrived. I
was sure that the waiting all day had only heightened the
anticipation for me. I saw the same eagerness on Eric's face
as well. Nothing could ever feel as right as when we were
once again in each other's arms. One of the ironies about
developing trust in a relationship is that you really don't
know for sure if you have it until it is tested. I was
hoping we wouldn't have a test of our trust for sometime.
  Eric had a routine upon coming home, which was no
surprise. I helped him begin watering flowerbeds and picking
up debris that seems to collect from nowhere. We then moved
inside to begin dinner. He went through his mail while I
looked through the photos on his desk.
  There were pictures of him and Carol at many different
ages. These two siblings appeared to have always been close.
There were no pictures of his parents, which I assumed was
significant. There were more recent photos, especially of
his nephew, Jared. The young man was obviously quite the
athlete.
  "Learn anything about me from my photo collection," Eric
inquired.
  "You are definitely close to your sister and I'm betting
you always have been. No pictures of your parents. You have
never talked about your parents, so I'm guessing that's not
a happy story. You are also very fond of Carol's son Jared.
Did I miss anything?"
  "It's going to be difficult keeping any secrets from you
I can tell."
  "Oh this sounds interesting. How many `secrets' do you
have?"
  "If I tell you, they won't be secrets anymore."
  The grin on his face was reassuring. We were bordering on
some serious territory in a relationship here. That he could
take it light-heartedly was a good sign. We ate dinner and
set about with our personal agenda. He had to grade tests
and I used the time to work on a sermon. Everything felt so
comfortable as we went through our mundane tasks. An outside
observer might have presumed we had been a couple for a long
time. We both stopped working in time to watch the news. We
sat on the sofa holding each other. When the news was over,
Eric stood and took me by the hand. In a repeat of last
night, he led me up the stairs to his bedroom. With less
tension than the previous time, we both got ready for bed.
  As a rule, I'm a night owl, so this was early for me to
be going to bed. The chance of being with Eric of course
outweighed any need to stay up later. We gently moved into
the same position as before. Kissing, stroking and nibbling
were all we did until finally he rested his head on my
chest. Gradually, his breathing became regular and I knew he
was asleep. There was no way I was going to be able to fall
asleep that early, but I found that I enjoyed holding him,
watching him sleep.
  The next morning was similar to the first, only this time
I toasted his bagel and poured his juice. Neither one of us
was a coffee drinker. I had packed an overnight bag and left
it in the car. I didn't want to seem too presumptuous, but I
didn't want to be unprepared, either.
  This became our routine for the week. By Friday, I had
decided that things needed a little nudge. Fridays were
usually my day off, but since up until now I hadn't had a
personal life, I often worked that day as well. This Friday
I was on a mission. Eric had given me a key to his house. It
would look bad if I somehow locked myself out one of these
mornings. I made a trip to the grocery store to have the
required elements on hand to prepare dinner. I went to a
candle shop for ambience enhancers. Then it was on to Eric's
to set my plan in motion.
  By the time he came home from teaching, the beef
stroganoff was ready for the last steps. Eric knew something
was up the minute he entered the house. His suspicions
aside, I met him with a passionate embrace he didn't resist.
I began to wonder if it was going to happen right there in
the entry way and all my preparations were unneeded. Finally
we let go of the almost desperate grip we had on each other.
I opened the bottle of wine I had set out and poured us each
a glass in the crystal goblets I found in the china cabinet.
He was impressed that I had found a tablecloth and all the
accessories to set a somewhat formal dining room. I
acquiesced to him helping with the finishing touches for
dinner. I did enjoy his company in the kitchen
  After the candlelit meal, we moved to the family room,
where we sat together on the comfortable sofa. I began to
massage his feet that were resting in my lap. I'm sure he
understood where I was headed, but he still did not resist.
After conversing about his day, I suggested he take a shower
to help him relax. Meanwhile, I set out and lit candles
around the bedroom, put on a CD, poured some more wine, and
then slipped naked into the bed. He came out of the bathroom
in his dowdy terrycloth robe. Replacing that was definitely
a first on the gift list for some occasion soon. He gave me
a big grin and shucked the robe, slipping in between the
sheets.
  "Somebody has been working on this plan for a long time."
  "Since the first time I saw you," I whispered, moving
closer to him.
  We embraced in much the same way we had every night that
week. Gently, I edged my left leg between his. He pulled me
over onto him and held me even tighter. While out tongues
danced in first his mouth an then in mine, my hands became
bolder in their exploration of his body. I watched for any
expression of hesitation. Seeing none, I ran my hand between
his legs and quickly found the object of my recent
fantasies. He took in a rasping breath, literally taking the
air from my lungs. The need for fresh air finally forced us
to break off our kiss. Eric's eyes were clenched shut but he
still gave no indication that he wanted me to stop.
  "Eric, I love you. Are you ready for this? Please look
into my eyes."
  Slowly his eyes opened and the windows to his soul
displayed fear and apprehension. My body ached with
anticipation, but reluctantly I brought both hands to cradle
his face.
  "Eric, you have nothing to be afraid of with me. We
aren't going to do anything you don't want to do."
  "But I do want it, Steve. I don't know what's wrong."
  "Tell me what you are feeling, Eric. What is it you
fear?"
  "I'm afraid you'll leave me."
  "You're afraid that if we have sex, I'll leave you?"
  "I'm afraid that you're going to meet a man at the church
who is better looking than I am --- a man who shares your
faith."
  "You're still worried about the faith thing?"
  "The faith thing! For a minister I assume that's a pretty
big deal."
  "My faith is a pretty big deal, but yours isn't. Don't
you see? I'm not looking for some spiritual twin. I'm
intrigued by the challenge of your intellect. In high school
I was a scientist. I appreciate the scientific method. If I
weren't convinced this could work, I wouldn't be here now,
doing this. I don't want a one-night stand. I want to spend
the rest of my life with you, Eric."
  "Oh Steve."
  Still mostly on top of him, I pressed my lips to his
hard. I ground my body into his. He responded by moaning
into my mouth. This time he was going to have to stop me.
But he didn't. Our bodies thrashed at each other with raw
lust. We were desperately stoking each other's manhood,
until finally, sweet release. Such peace, such contentment
as I lay there holding him in my arms. With one more gaze
into each other's eyes, we smiled and I knew I was where I
belonged
  The next morning, I awoke before he did. As I watched him
sleep, I gave thanks for the chance to be here with him like
this. His mouth was slightly open and he had drooled on his
pillow. I would never have thought that someone drooling
could be so attractive. But he was. Slowly, his eyes
fluttered open and he smiled.
  "It really wasn't a dream," he mumbled.
  "More like a dream come true."
  "Are you always this romantic first thing in the
morning?"
  "Only when I'm very, very happy."
  We cuddled for a while, but an urgent need to empty the
bladder got us both out of bed. I followed him downstairs to
the kitchen where we combined our efforts for a light
breakfast. Sitting together at the table, it seemed so
natural.
  "Do you believe me now, Eric, that I'm not going
anywhere?"
  "I know you're still here, I'm just can't convince myself
why you want to stay."
  "This is one of the greatest mornings of my life. My
world was shattered when I lost my family, but you have
given me new reason to live. Your love has healed me, Eric."
  "I don't deserve you."
  "Why do you feel that way? Who has told you something
like that?"
  I saw a wave of great pain sweep across his face. He
almost drew himself into an invisible shell.
  "Who was it, Eric?"
  "It was my father. After I came out to my parents - it
was over Christmas break, my first year of college - I was
leaving to go back to school. They hadn't taken it very
well. My father shouted obscenities and my mother cried.
They didn't actually kick me out; they simply made it clear
I wasn't welcome there. Not as long as I `chose' to be `that
way,' anyhow. I packed my bags and was headed for the car.
My father came out onto the porch. As a parting gesture he
shouted that no decent man would have me, not even a queer
one."
  I reached across the table and took both of his hands in
mine
  " I cried all the way back to the dorm. I never went home
again. Carol had already moved out, of course. She tried to
patch things up between us, but my father wouldn't have it.
Two years later, my mother died. I went to the funeral, but
at the graveside - as everyone was leaving - my father
screamed at me, `YOU put her in this grave.' Carol rushed me
out of there. That must have been the last straw for her,
because neither one of us ever spoke to him again. Almost
three years to the day, he died of a heart attack. A
neighbor called Carol to tell her. There was only a
graveside service for him. He had run off any friends he
had. Carol went to the service. I couldn't go to that place
again. I've never even visited their graves since."
  "Your father was wrong, you know that."
  He looked up at me without comprehending.
  "He was wrong about the fact the you chose your
sexuality. He was wrong that you had anything to do with
your mother's death. And he was wrong when he said you
wouldn't find someone to love you."
  I came around the table and put my arms around him. He
wasn't crying; merely resting his head on my shoulder.
Softly, he began almost shuddering in my ear.
  "My father was an asshole. He was an ignorant, mean-
spirited bigot."
  "And I, for one, am not going to take seriously the
opinions of an ignorant, mean-spirited, bigoted asshole."
  "I'm not going to either anymore. Steve, will you do
something for me?"
  "You name it, lover."
  "I usually go to Carol's house for dinner on Sunday. Will
you go with me tomorrow?"
  "I would be honored."
  We spent the rest of the day doing small chores around
the house. Every now and then, we would stop to hold each
other. As the day drew to an end, the question of the
night's arrangements seemed to loom before us.
  "Steve, I imagine that you need to be at your apartment
tonight. I'm sure it would make getting ready for church in
the morning a lot easier. Would you want me to spend the
night at your apartment?"
  I was amazed that he was willing to risk that quickly.
  "Oh, most definitely. There is nothing I want more."
  "I'm still not ready to attend church with you yet, is
that all right?
  "It is not a problem."
  We finished up a few things around his place and headed
to my apartment. He moved the things he had brought with him
into my bedroom.  As I watched him meticulously set out his
toiletries, he caught my amusement in the reflection in the
mirror.
  "Are you laughing at me," he said with a slight grin.
  "I love watching you," I hedged.
  "You think I'm being anal about my toothbrush."
  "Speaking of anal."
  He turned and walked solely to me. His eyes were almost
smoldering. He kissed me passionately and began moving me
backwards into the bedroom. Then he started unbuttoning my
shirt. By the time we reached the bed, my shirt was off and
my pants were unfastened He pushed me back onto the bed and
continued to undress me. If this was a sign of a new, take-
charge Eric, I was going to like this. I considered
mentioning my lack of experience in this area, but decided
against it. I didn't want to break the mood. I needn't have
worried. Almost agonizingly slowly, he prepared me for my
first time to really know what it means to make love with a
man. That night, as our bodies bonded together, our souls
were knit into one. If I had any reservations before, they
evaporated as we became one. With him inside me, I knew that
I was whole again.

  ********

  Meeting someone's family is often a daunting endeavor.
It's like picking up a book in the middle of the action. All
the history, all the dynamics were at work and I was a
spectator. The bond between Eric and his sister Carol was
obvious. She seemed pleased that I was there. If I had to
guess, she was proud that she was partly responsible for
getting us together. There was also a great deal of
affection between Eric and his nephew, Jared. Jared eyed me
suspiciously. I later learned that I was the first man Eric
had ever brought to the family dinner. It may have been the
first time Jared had actually been confronted with his
uncle's homosexuality. But the real challenge was Paul,
Eric's brother-in-law. Paul Langley was a handsome man, in a
rugged sort of way. He was friendly enough on the surface,
but I sensed hostility. It may have been paranoia, but I
would swear that I caught him glaring at me when I
unexpectedly noticed him watching me.
  The meal was good and the conversation stayed light.
Jared seemed to grow nervous and the dinner progressed. Just
before we were ready to leave, Jared managed to trap me in
the hallway on my way back from the bathroom.
  "Rev. Williams, can I talk to you a minute?"
  My early warning system went on alert. The clandestine
nature of the conversation told me the dynamics of the
Langley household was going to get wrenched up a notch.
  "What can I do for you, Jared?"
  "I really need to talk to you about something serious,
but I can't do it here. Could I talk to you at the church?"
  "I'm sure we could work out something. What time is good
for you?"
  "How about tomorrow after school?"
  "That works for me."
  "Oh, and could we keep this between the two of us, not
even uncle Eric?"
  "Sure, that's no problem."
  We arranged the details for our upcoming conversation. I
was intensely curious, but I've learned to not try too hard
to second-guess what a person wants to discuss. Besides,
Eric wanted me to come back to his house that night, so I
had plenty of things to occupy my mind. Once we passed the
last hurdle, Eric was pressing the relationship full steam
ahead. I had no complaints.
  The next day was filled with the minutia that makes up a
Monday in a church office. Loren was still on cloud nine in
regards to Larry. That kept Loren out of my personal affairs
for the moment. I was a little surprised, then, when Jared
poked his head in my door.
  "There was no one out here, so I decided to see if you
were ready for me."
  "Come in, Jared. Loren, the church secretary left early
today."
  Jared walked into my office and timidly took a seat. I
decided to wait and let him begin talking. I wanted him to
have ownership of this conversation.
  "I know uncle Eric is gay. He's never said anything about
it, but my mother told me a few years ago."
  He paused and looked at the floor. Not knowing where this
was headed, I decided to wait and let him set the course.
Most people don't like silence, and even the reluctant to
talk will say something to fill the void.
  "Since you're the minister here, at this church, I
assumed, I mean I guessed, that you were - ah - gay, too."
  He looked up at me with all the insecurity of his sixteen
years. I knew I wanted to be honest with him. The question
is exactly how much information does one share?
  "Your uncle and I are in a relationship at this time. I
think it is safe to say that we both hope that it will
develop into something special for the two of us."
  "I think I'm gay, too," he spurted out in a rush.
  "I take it that's what you wanted to talk about with me?"
  "Yes."
  Now that the initial confession was passed, he was
slowing down on the need to press forward with the
conversation.
  "What does that mean to you?"
  "It means I like guys and not girls. I like looking at
guys and thinking about guys - sexually."
  "You've come to the right place. Metropolitan Church is a
place where people can ask questions about their sexuality
without condemnation. I'm sure you have a lot of questions.
Do you fell comfortable talking to me about these things? I
could arrange for you to talk with someone your own age if
you prefer."
  "No. I want to talk with you, at least for now. I've
thought about talking to uncle Eric a couple of times, but I
always chickened out."
  "I believe you could trust your uncle if you ever decided
to confide in him."
  "It's just that he and mom are so close. It would be like
asking him to keep a secret from her."
  "Let's cross that bridge when we come to it. Would you
say that you are sure you are gay or is there any
uncertainty there?"
  "I'm pretty sure I'm gay. I mean, girls don't do it for
me. When I ja - ah - get off, I only think about guys."
  "Is there something about being gay that troubles you the
most?"
  He virtually went pale on the spot. It was not surprising
that this was difficult for him. I feared, though, that
there was something more than the usual adolescent situation
here.
  "It's my dad."
  My impressions from yesterday came flooding back to me. I
hadn't said anything to Eric because I didn't want to get
involved in family dynamics with no more than an impression.
I realized I was now in the middle of it whether I wanted to
be or not.
  "How do you think your dad will react to your being gay?"
  "I know how he will react."
  Silence filled the room as this now very troubled young
man was facing a dark demon. I still had no clue as to
whether or not he was only being paranoid. He was definitely
intelligent, but intelligence isn't a safeguard from over-
dramatizing a problem.
  "My father hates gays," he finally whispered.
  I work at not over reacting to something a person says to
me in situations like this, but the implications were
overwhelming.
  "He knows your uncle is gay, doesn't he?"
  "Oh, yeah. You wouldn't believe the things he says about
gays."
  I was perplexed and getting more so by the minute.
  "What does your mother do about that?"
  "He never says anything in front of her. He knows she
wouldn't stand for it. No. It's when it's just the two of
us. `Man-to-man,' as he calls it. He doesn't like uncle Eric
at all. I could see him looking at you, too, yesterday. I
don't think he likes you, either."
  I was beginning to see the powder keg this young man was
trying to keep from igniting.
  "That puts you in an awkward spot."
  "In the past, I went along with it. I was afraid to say
anything."
  He was obviously feeling guilty over his collusion with
his father's homophobia.
  "You did the right thing; not saying anything back to
your father. We should all stand up for what we believe, but
there is wisdom in picking the best times to do that."
  "I felt like I have betrayed uncle Eric."
  "Your uncle Eric would not want you to take any crap from
your father on account of him. You've done nothing wrong.
I'm glad you have come to me. What you do now will have an
impact on your whole family."
  I almost dreaded bringing up that last part. I didn't
want to lay any responsibility on him, but I was sure he was
already there.
  "Your coming to dinner is kind of what got me to
thinking."
  So I wasn't wrong in thinking it felt like a minefield at
dinner.
  "How so?"
  "For one, the next time dad and I are alone, I can
imagine what he is going to say. For another, when I saw you
and uncle Eric together, I realized I wanted a relationship,
too. And I don't mean only for the sex."
  "And you can't pursue a relationship for fear of being
caught."
  The dilemma filled the room as we both considered what
had been said.
  "There's a kid at school. We have some classes together.
Every once in a while, I catch him looking at me, and when I
do, he smiles at me. It makes me feel kind of tingly
inside."
  "You think you might really like him?"
  "Yea, he's real smart. And he's good-looking, too."
  "Have you two gone anywhere or spent any time together?"
  "I haven't dared. If dad ever saw him, he'd know he was
gay."
  "What do you want to do, Jared?"
  "I want to be able to ask him out, but to do that, I
probably need to come out to my parents."
  We both weighed the ramifications of his last statement.
Every path seemed ripe with danger.
  "Could you tell your mother first, and enlist her help in
telling your father?"
  "She's not going to believe that my father is like that.
She doesn't see that side of him. He's very careful."
  "Since you've come this far, and want to tell your
parents, what would you think of involving your uncle Eric?
It's going to affect him anyhow. He might be able to help.
He knows your parents better than I do."
  "I guess we could tell him."
  We then worked out a plan for the three of us to meet. I
wanted him to tell Eric, so I wasn't going to explain what
the meeting was about in advance. We used an upcoming
science fair as an excuse for the three of getting together
on Saturday. I hated keeping secrets from Eric, but this was
one aspect of the ministry he would have to accept. I hoped
it wasn't asking too much.
  Saturday arrived and Jared joined us at Eric's house. I
think he realized that I had spent the night. He gave me a
wicked grin. This kid had personality plus. I began the
discussion.
  "Eric, Jared and I talked on Monday, and we both felt
that you should be involved before we could go any further.
I'm going to turn it over to him now."
  "Uncle Eric, I know that you are gay. I knew it before
all that mess with the school board. I asked mom one time,
and she told me."
  "That's all right, Jared. I never intended to hide it
from you. I wasn't sure when it was a good time to talk with
you about something like that."
  "It's OK. I know it's not something that's easy to tell."
  They looked into each other's eyes. It was as if they
were seeing each other as adults for the first time.
Recognition swept over Eric's face.
  "You're gay, aren't you?"
  "Yes, uncle Eric, I am."
  Eric began to smile. He was connecting with his nephew in
a whole new way. It was as if he had kept some distance in
the past, and now the barriers were down.
  "You've grown up into a fine young man, Jared. I have to
admit, when your mother worried about your not having a
girlfriend, I passed it off as your playing the field."
  "You never guessed I was playing for your team?"
  "Somebody's been on the Internet, haven't they," I
interjected.
  "I have done some surfing on the subject," Jared
responded.
  "Only the academic listings, I'm sure," Eric added.
  "There really is some weird sh - stuff out there," Jared
said catching himself in the nick of time.
  "Be careful, Jared. There are certified nuts out there
and some of them are dangerous."
  "I'll be careful uncle Eric. I promise."
  "I'm honored that you wanted to confide in me, Jared. Am
I to assume that your parents don't know about this?"
  "Yea, and that's why we're here. Rev. Williams -"
  "Jared, why don't you call me Steve."
  "OK, Steve and I were talking about how to tell my
parents, and he thought it would be a good idea to bring you
in on it."
  "I'd be glad to help."
  "Eric, this gets kind of complicated. There are some
problems you need to hear," I added.
  Eric and I attempted to communicate without talking. Our
relationship was young to have any experience at this, but I
was able to flash a warning that there was more involved
than he realized.
  "Uncle Eric, there's something you don't know, that I've
known for quite a while. I never wanted to be the one to
tell you, either."
  "Go ahead, Jared. I won't hold it against you merely
because you were the bearer of bad news."
  "My father hates gays."
  Eric quickly turned away. The expression was not one of
shock as I might have suspected. The hurt was definitely
there, however. I ventured a guess.
  "This isn't a surprise to you, is it Eric?"
  "No. Carol and Paul were dating when I came out to my
parents. Steve knows the story, Jared, but let's say for now
that it wasn't pretty. Carol was always supportive. I
couldn't have asked for anyone better in my corner than my
sister. Paul never let on that he wasn't supportive; it was
a feeling I had. He said all the right things, but I was
never convinced of his sincerity. As time went on, I assumed
I must have been wrong."
  "You weren't wrong, uncle Eric. He thinks all gays are
disgusting. And he doesn't use the word gay when mom's not
around."
  You could almost see the wheels turning in Eric's head as
he digested this information. I knew he would catch on
quickly, but he got to the point even sooner than I
expected.
  "If you come out to your parents, then your father's
reaction is going to give away years of deception."
  "I think you hit the nail on the head," I agreed.
  "So have you two come up with any plans?" Eric asked both
Jared and me.
  "Steve said we should include you," Jared said to Eric.
  "Given the potential implications here, I not only
thought you should be in on the plan, I hoped you might be
able to help. You know Jared's parents as well as anyone, I
presume."
  "We could hope that Paul would continue trying to fool
Carol and not react badly," Eric suggested.
  "But he knows that I know," Jared countered.
  "It's one thing for his wife's brother to be gay, it's a
whole other thing for his son to be gay," I said.
  "I think he'll go ballistic," Jared added with obvious
pessimism.
  "I think we need to be prepared for several
contingencies. Jared, how soon do you feel you have to tell
them," I asked.
  "I don't want to wait. I'm tired of living a lie. If my
father can't deal with it, then to hell with him."
  Jared began to cry. As Eric comforted him, I reflected on
how intense this had to be for both of them. I felt
inadequate to the task of helping them with this problem. I
knew I could be there for them, but I didn't have any
answers. Eric was consoling Jared as only one who had been
there could do.
  "Jared, Steve and I will support you in any way we can.
If things get too bad, you can stay here."
  Eric searched my face for an affirmation to this promise.
  "Jared, there are people at the church who have been
through these kind of things. We aren't alone here. Staying
with your uncle would always be an option. He doesn't snore
too badly."
  The attempted humor and the implicit confession that went
with it had the desired effect on Jared. He looked up, and
in the midst of his tears, gave me a big grin.
  The decision was made to wait until Friday night for the
big revelation. Jared asked that Eric and I be with him. We
suggested he have a bag packed in case he needed to stay at
Eric's that night. All that was left was to pray for a
miracle. I was convinced it would take one to get through
this unscathed.
  With plans made, Jared left to go home. I warned him to
lay low. Sometimes when a decision has been made, an
impulsive flash can lead to an unexpected moment of truth. I
wanted him to be sure and wait until everything was in
place.
  After he was gone, Eric and I reflected over the way the
evening had gone.
  "Jared is a brave young man," Eric murmured wistfully.
  "I think he would say that he is only doing what is
inevitable."
  "But many people in his position would put off even the
inevitable."
  "Are you all right with him living here if it comes to
that? I think that is a good possibility."
  "I don't want this to affect us," he said with a question
in his voice.
  "It doesn't have to change anything if we don't let it."
  "Steve, you are going to stay tonight aren't you?"
  "Most definitely, my love. Most definitely."
  "I want you to stay every night."
  This moment was overdue. I knew that I had been thinking
about where we went next with our relationship. Giving up my
apartment and moving in with him seemed an obvious choice.
But it would be different for him. I would be invading his
space. Was he really ready for this?
  "Eric, I very much want to take our relationship to the
next level. There is nothing to keep me from living here
with you. But I want you to be sure that's what you want."
  "Oh Steve, there is nothing I want more. Are you sure you
don't mind giving up your apartment? I'm not having to give
up anything."
  "You know I love this house. The apartment has always
been a utilitarian remedy to my day-to-day needs. I love you
Eric. But I want you to know, this means commitment to me.
If I move in, I plan to stay."
  "I want this commitment. I want you to stay. I want to
live with you the rest of my life."
  With that, we moved into each other's arms in an embrace
so fierce it was a wonder that ribs weren't cracked. It was
if we were trying to squeeze out years of frustration and
longing. I think we both knew that his wasn't actually a
point of no return. If the arrangement didn't work out, I
could always find another apartment. Emotionally though,
after tonight, neither one of would be able to walk away
without leaving a broken heart behind us. The vulnerability
we shared, coupled with the revelations about Eric's family
made it feel like it was he and I against the world. It was
a bittersweet moment we would never forget.
  I began the next day moving my things to Eric's house -
our house. Eric chided me if I didn't refer to it that way.
There was no hurry. I don't believe that we thought of the
time until my lease was up as a trial period. Events to come
would make that question immaterial.
  The next morning in the office, Loren instantly knew
something was different. I hate being that transparent.
  "OK chief, something's different. Spill it."
  "Loren, not that it's any of your business, but I'm
moving in with Eric," I said trying to pout and keep the
biggest grin from breaking out on my face.
  "Congratulations, Steve. I'm happy for you. I know this
is what you wanted. And what do you mean, none of my
business? As your secretary, I need to know how to get in
contact with you."
  "Thanks, Loren. It isn't that I didn't want you to know.
Hell, I want the whole world to know. It's that it only
happened last night. We probably need some time to adjust
before everyone starts reacting to the news."
  "Well you know my lips are sealed."
  "Thanks. I've never doubted your loyalty. By the way, how
are things going with Larry?"
  "Oh - ah chief, by the way, if you need to reach me after
hours, I'm staying at Larry's."
  "Now the truth comes out. What's good for the goose is
good for the gander, or something like that."
  Loren smiled at my little gender slip.
  "Larry and I are very happy. I still have trouble
believing he really loves me. I hope he can be patient
enough to deal with my insecurities."
  "Larry is a good man, Loren. I'm sure he will give it his
all."
  "I guess a person can't ask for more than that. I offered
to tone down my wardrobe. I don't want to be an
embarrassment to him."
  "What did he say to that?"
  "He said not to change one g-damn thing."
  "Good for him. You know, the more I know about Larry, the
more I like him."
  "That makes two of us."
  We both started to giggle. I'm glad no one came into the
office. I'm sure we were quite a sight. The last several
months had brought so many significant developments for both
Loren and me. Together we had forged a friendship that was
more important that either one of us could describe. We
eventually got ourselves under control and back to work.
Several times during the day, however, we would look at each
other and begin to snicker. It was truly a wonderful day.
When Larry came to pick up Loren for lunch, he shook his
head as we both dissolved in another fit of laughter over
nothing.
  During the lunch hour, the phone rang. I don't always
answer it when Loren is gone, but for some reason, this time
I did.
  "Metropolitan Church, this is Steve."
  "Rev. Williams, this is Beverly Carlisle, Bob Carlisle's
wife."
  "Yes Beverly. What can I do for you?"
  "It's about Bob. He's in jail, you know."
  "I truthfully hadn't heard anything lately."
  "They have him on suicide watch. He's very depressed. He
didn't want me to make bail. I don't think I could bring him
home anyway, not with Brad here."
  "Beverly, what do you want me to do?"
  "I have no right to ask you to do anything."
  "Let's not worry about that right now. You have a lot on
your hands. What would you like for me to do? Do you want me
to visit him in jail?"
  "Would you really do that?"
  "Do you think he would see me?"
  "I think he might. He feels like he has lost everything."
  "I'll go by and see him. I can't make any promises. Even
if he sees me, he may not be very receptive."
  "Oh bless you."
  "How is Brad doing?"
  "He seems to have good days and bad days. He's still
seeing a counselor and we're coming to the meetings at the
church."
  "Very good. Hang in there, Beverly. I know this is
difficult, but hold onto the hope. Sometimes it's all we
have."
  "Thank you, Rev. Williams. Thank you."
  I had no difficulty going to see Bob Carlisle, but I knew
there would be several other people who weren't fond of the
idea. I had visited people in jail before. It's an eerie
feeling hearing the door shut and lock behind you. Bob was
willing to see me. I was taken to a visitation room and a
guard brought him in and sat down several feet away from us.
No glass partition separating us. I hoped the rage that
drove him to shoot me had subsided.
  "Hello Bob."
  "Hello Rev. Williams. I'd have to say I'm surprised to
see you here."
  "Your wife called and said you were depressed, so I
came."
  "You really are a do-gooder aren't you?"
  "It's an occupational hazard."
  "Are you here to tell me I'm going to hell."
  "I don't believe you are going to hell, Bob."
  "Huh?"
  "I believe that God loves us too much to condemn anyone
to hell. God forgives you, Bob. Even more, I forgive you."
  "Is that what you are supposed to say?"
  "It's what I believe."
  "What makes you so forgiving?"
  "I've never shot anyone, but believe me, I've done plenty
of things wrong."
  "I wanted to kill you. How do you forgive that?"
  "Actually it's easier to forgive you that than if you had
tried to kill someone I love. A drunk driver killed my wife
and my two sons. Him I'm having trouble forgiving."
  "You were married?"
  "For twenty-five years."
  "But I thought you were a - "
  "There's a lot about me you don't know."
  "I've lost my wife and son. I doubt they will ever
forgive me."
  "Brad is very angry. The young often don't forgive
easily. But it was your wife who called me, remember. She is
worried about you."
  "She should cut her losses and move on."
  "Beverly strikes me as a good woman. Good people don't
walk away from their commitments."
  "Is that what you think I'm doing, walking away from my
commitments?"
  "Is that what you're doing?"
  "You mean the suicide watch."
  "That's one way of leaving your troubles behind you."
  "But that wouldn't make me much of a man."
  I decided that comment didn't need a response. I had been
driving the conversation thus far and thought a little
silence might let him take the lead.
  "I've boxed myself into a tight corner hear. What can I
do," he asked with pain written all over his face.
  "Bob, you have eliminated a number of options, but that
doesn't mean you don't have any. What's the most important
thing you want to do?"
  "I want my family to forgive me. Being in here makes me
understand how important they are. Do I have any chance at
all?"
  "Yes, you have a chance. What do you think you need to
do?"
  "I need to accept whatever sentence I get. I need to tell
my family I'm sorry, even if they don't listen."
  "They will listen. They may not accept your regret at
first, but they will hear you."
  "How do I tell them?"
  "Write them a letter. That way you can be sure of what
you say and it gives them the time and space to decide to
read it."
  "I'll do that. Oh, and Rev. Williams?"
  "Yes?"
  "I'm very glad I didn't kill you."
  "It pleases me, too."
  He gave me a smile, and I had to say it changed his whole
appearance. I left the jail, relieved to be outside the
locked doors. I was also grateful that the session with Bob
went as well as it did. I didn't know what to expect. There
was no guarantee that anything would work out for the
Carlisle family. They had a lot to deal with and Beverly and
Brad were very hurt. I wasn't convinced they would even read
the letter if he wrote it, especially not Brad. In my line
of work, I often planted the seed not knowing if it ever
took root.
  I also knew that I couldn't keep my visit a secret from
Eric, although it was tempting. I figured he wouldn't be
happy about it. He was on that other side of a person
hurting someone he loved. Yes, loved. I was really getting
to like the sound of that. Might as well go home and face
the music.
  I got home before Eric, which gave me a chance to open a
bottle of his favorite wine. I put on his favorite CD and
hoped for the best. He walked in and immediately knew I was
up to something.
  "This has guilty conscience written all over it. What did
you do?"
  So much for trying to act innocent. If he knew me this
well already, my life was going to be an open book before
long. I decided to take the plunge.
  "I went to visit Bob Carlisle in jail."
  "You what?"
  "His wife called and was worried about him. They had him
on suicide watch."
  "That would save the taxpayers a lot of time and
trouble."
  "Eric."
  "I know, I know. You're going to tell me I need to
forgive him. You probably already have forgiven him haven't
you?"
  "Eric, we forgive so that we don't have to carry around
the anger any longer."
  "I'm not through being angry."
  "I'm OK with that, but that doesn't mean I can't be
ready, does it?"
  "I suppose not."
  This issue was hardly resolved, but we had arrived at a
truce for the moment. Enough so that he let me hug him and
even returned my kiss.
  "I love you, Eric Andrews."
  "I love you, Steve Williams."
  Yes, we were going to be just fine.


  Comments are appreciated.  bccccand@netscape.net