Page 30 of Gay for Pray (Arport Sacred Sacrament University #1)

Chapter Thirty

Theodore

AS WE SIT IN a parking lot I know way too well, Jude reaches over the gearshift and takes my hand.

“We don’t have to do this, you know,” he says.

I take a steadying breath. We’re near the back of the lot, well behind the regulars who always take the front spots.

Usually I’m one of those regulars, but a lot has changed in the past few months.

Now I’m at the back of the lot, an outsider existing on the edges.

Maybe this is where I’ve always belonged.

My heart skips when I think about being pushed even farther away, but there’s no turning back now.

I’ve made up my mind, and I’m not going to run from it anymore.

“No,” I say, “I want to do this.”

“Then I’m with you,” Jude says.

I gaze into his eyes, drawing strength from his placid smile. I let myself lean over and taste his lips, and when we part, I think maybe I really can do this.

We get out of the car and head for the church at the other end of the parking lot.

We don’t hold hands, but I catch more than one churchgoer glancing our way.

As we step out of the sunlight and into the cooler shade of the church, a wave of vertigo washes over me, my worlds colliding like trains calamitously placed on the same track.

These two pieces of me were never supposed to meet, but here I am leading my boyfriend to a pew near the middle of the church where my father is a deacon.

People file into the pews. I sit close beside Jude, both of us keeping our hands in our laps, trying not to shift and fidget too much. The space around us prickles. It’s like there’s a force field pushing everyone else away. The service hasn’t even begun, and I already want to run.

“May we sit?”

I jerk my head up too quickly to find Mrs. McOwen and her husband standing at the end of our empty pew. The older couple have been coming to this church for longer than I’ve been alive. Even when Mr. McOwen had to start using a cane, they’ve never missed Sunday Mass.

I’m too startled to speak. I simply nod, and Jude and I shuffle over to make room for the couple. They sit beside us without a hint of strangeness or curiosity. In fact, it’s several minutes before Mr. McOwen reaches past me to offer his hand to Jude.

“Always nice to see a new face at Mass,” he says.

Jude shakes with a smile. “Happy to be here, sir.”

That’s the end of the interaction, but it leaves me buzzing. The simple act of being treated like anyone else in this church means more to me than the McOwens will ever know. Even though I’m… Even though I’m here with Jude, they see me as the same Theodore they’ve always known.

If only my father felt the same.

My heartrate spikes right back up as the service begins.

My father strides into the church dressed in his usual robes.

I knew this would be his service. That’s why I chose this day in particular to arrive with Jude.

It’s all or nothing. I’m putting everything out there to discover whether I still have a family or not.

Except…I do have a family. I have Jude, and I’ve met his mom a couple times now on video chat. She was nothing but warm and welcoming, and I’m planning to accompany Jude next time he flies home to see her. I’m not truly alone, no matter what happens today.

On top of that there’s Nick, who quietly discovered who drugged me at that party while Jude and I were too busy being pathetic about each other.

“Wait, him ?” I said when Jude told me the news.

“Do you know this guy?” Jude had said.

“Not really, but he’s in our philosophy class. That guy who always looks like he’s laughing.”

Jude furrowed his brows, looking confused, but waves of realization were washing over me, hitting one after the other.

“He was the damn bouncer,” I said, more to myself than Jude. “That stupid bouncer who called me a narc. He came up to me later and handed me juice. I thought he was being nice, but… God, I should have known. All I had that night was that juice. Of course it was him.”

“You were incredibly fucked up,” Jude said. “And that stuff does weird things to your brain. You can’t beat yourself up for forgetting a random guy at a packed party.”

I still feel kind of foolish when I think back on it, but Nick and Jude took the name right to the university administration.

They did it quietly, keeping me out of it to protect me.

It made it a little tougher for the school to do anything about the guy, but he still got kicked out of his fraternity and suspended by the university.

I knew Jude really wanted to catch the guy who dosed me, but I never asked Nick to do all that for me; the guy barely knows me. He simply took it upon himself to right a wrong when Jude explained what happened.

All my life, I’ve thought of family as only my blood relations, but I’m swiftly learning a much broader and more fulfilling definition of that word.

I only realize I’m jiggling my knee when Jude quietly sets his hand atop it.

I spare a glance at him, and even that brief eye contact helps steady me as the service continues.

We stand and kneel and sit and sing on cue.

Jude might not be much of a believer, but he’s spent enough time at Mass thanks to being part of the choir back at school to understand the rhythm of the service.

Even out here at a little church in a small town, the routine is basically the same.

The familiar ritual helps calm my pattering heart, so that when my father steps up to deliver the sermon, I’m only kind of sweating through my shirt.

I swear his eyes dart to me before he begins. There’s a moment of searing eye contact, his gaze locking on mine in the hush that proceeds his sermon. But whatever he might think, whatever he might want to say, he holds it back.

I don’t hear a word of that sermon, yet I can’t take my eyes off my father.

He doesn’t look my way again, but I do grasp Jude’s hand and hold it like we’re strapped into a roller coaster that’s about to plunge down the first big drop.

That sermon seems to both last forever and no time at all, mostly because I know that something is waiting for me on the other side of it.

I don’t know what it’ll be—condemnation, acceptance, hate, love—but I know I’m not leaving this church without my life changing forever.

We stand after the sermon and make our way to the front of the church to receive communion.

Thankfully, my father has someone helping him distribute the communion, and I end up on that person’s side of the church.

Jude doesn’t come up at all, not being an actual member of the Catholic Church.

Then there’s a few final handshakes and announcements and the service ends.

Everyone stands to leave, Mr. and Mrs. McOwen shuffling out of the pew ahead of me and Jude.

I could run for my car. I’ve certainly made my statement. But I linger instead, saying hello to people I haven’t seen since the school semester began. Mrs. McOwen asks me about my classes, and I get to tell her all about the project Jude and I completed together in our philosophy class.

“It was actually really interesting,” Jude says. “I feel like I learned a lot from having Theo as my partner.”

Mrs. McOwen’s eyebrow raises fractionally at the nickname. No one in this entire town has ever called me Theo instead of Theodore, but Jude doesn’t seem to notice, continuing to chat with her as we stand on the steps of the church.

After a while, her husband says they need to get home before the game starts, and they wander off with waves and well wishes.

I only realize how long we talked when they go and I find the parking lot speckled with far fewer cars than before, like the last few leaves refusing to fall off the branch. Jude and I could leave as well, but…

“Theodore.”

I try to push down the flinch when my father’s voice strikes me right between the shoulder blades.

Jude and I turn to find him and the rest of my immediate family heading through the church toward us.

My father has set aside his robes for simple black slacks and a button down, while my mother and sister wear comfortable sundresses.

“And who’s this?” my father says as he stops a pace before us.

The shadows of the church drape over him like a cloak while Jude and I stand a step back in the sunlight. His face gives away nothing, not anger at finding Jude with me or joy at having his son home from school for a weekend. Nothing.

We both know he knows who Jude is, but I introduce him away. “From the choir,” I add, just to drive home that we all know what’s going on here.

Jude sticks out his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Walsh.”

Dad ignores that hand entirely, his cold gaze stuck solely on me.

“So, this is what I think it is?” he says.

I clench my teeth reflexively, bracing my whole body, but now is the time for me to stand up for myself and be brave for once in my life. I owe Jude that much after all of this. I owe myself that much.

I straighten my shoulders, drawing myself up. I can match my father for height, no matter how he’s loomed over me in other ways for my entire life.

“Yes,” I say. “It is.”

My father’s mouth thins into a hard, nearly invisible line. His eyes flicker between me and Jude, but all he says is “hm,” and then moves right past us.

Mom sweeps in to take over the situation. She does accept Jude’s handshake, but she moves on quickly to bundle me up in a crushing hug.

“It’s only been a couple months,” I say as her embrace squeezes the breath out of me.

“I can still miss my baby in a couple months.”

She peppers me with questions about school, mostly ignoring Jude, though not pushing him out of the conversation when he jumps in to add pieces to my stories. She’s polite, and after my father’s cold non-response, I’ll take polite.

A horn honks in the parking lot—my father, signaling that this reunion has ended. My mother bids us goodbye and heads off, but my sister Lucy lingers.

Jude exhales, shoulders slumping. “So was all that good or bad?”

I don’t have a simple, clear answer for him. I wish I did. It would be a lot less confusing.

“I’m…not sure,” I say. “I think it was…okay? It was a start, but it’s going to take some time.”

His smile softens. “I understand. I’m not in a rush.”

“Me neither.”

Our eyes meet, and for a moment I think we might kiss right there on the steps of the church where my father preaches, but then Lucy reminds us of her presence by loudly clearing her throat.

“I think it was good,” she says. “Dad didn’t yell or give one of his sermons, so that counts as a win, right?”

If anyone would know, it would be my younger sister, who’s endured as many of those lectures as I have.

“And what about you?” I say, bold now that I’ve gotten the hardest part of this day out of the way. “Are you going to lecture me?”

Lucy’s scoff brightens into laughter. “Are you serious?”

I shrug. “I mean…” I wave at the church, encompassing our entire childhoods.

“Theodore, I grew up with that man too,” Lucy says. “But, like, half my school is gay. Do you really think I didn’t know?”

I blink. “You knew?”

“Not for sure, but let’s say I’m not exactly shocked.”

Jude bursts into laughter, offering Lucy a high five that she readily accepts.

“Hey, that’s one,” Jude says.

“I mean, kind of,” Lucy says. “I don’t care that he’s gay, but I do still care that he’s my older brother. You really want to date that?” She jabs her thumb at me.

“He’s got his redeeming qualities,” Jude says with a sly smile.

“Ew, I don’t need to know,” Lucy says. “Anyway, are you guys coming to Sunday brunch?”

Jude looks to me. I didn’t mention brunch. I figured that wouldn’t be in the cards after the shock of me bringing Jude along to Mass.

“I thought Dad might not like it…” I dither.

Lucy waves away my protest. “Who cares? He’s gonna have to get used to it, right? And you’re already here. Besides, this way I can ride with you guys instead of Mom and Dad.”

Dad honks, making Lucy’s point for her, and Lucy shouts that she’s traveling with Jude and I instead. Dad doesn’t look thrilled, but he doesn’t protest, and then he’s driving away and Jude and I are…we’re going to Sunday brunch with my parents… Holy shit.

“I guess we better get going,” Jude says.

As we head back to the car, I take his hand in mine.