Page 23

chapter twenty-two

Once the chapel is empty and only Darren and I remain, I take his hand. “Would you come out back with me?” His breath hitches, and I know he’s probably shocked, because we both know what’s out there. An unused playground, since we don’t have any children in the congregation anymore, a large field, and just past the trees in the distance, my parents’ final resting place.

“Yeah,” he breathed, looking so dang proud of me I almost can’t stand it. “Of course.”

As we journey outside, we pass the overgrown playground, then make our way toward the tree line. It’s just past the field where Tatum and Scotty recently erected their bonfire. Standing beside the halfheartedly assembled bonfire, Meadows is roasting what appears to be a large hog. Well, it's orange like a hog, at least, and it's pretty plump. The scent doesn’t make me think we’ve been successful in making bacon great again, but that’s okay.

“Thank God,” Darren says with a smile.

Past the trees, there’s an old chain-link fence. Opening the gate, I usher him in, and then we make it toward the back. Above us, there’s a canopy of trees, and little light beams filter in through the gaps, giving this place a magical feel.

I spot my father’s grave marker first and quickly look away. The air feels a lot thicker now, and I’m having trouble catching my breath. All these years later, and just the sight of his name in stone is enough to send me back to that night. Darren places his hand on my back, guiding me to my mother. We kneel next to each other, my hand finding his.

With the hand not holding his, I run my fingers through the patch of grass that grows above my mother. She loved me in her own way, I think. She never said the words, but there was always a sparkle in her eye when I entered a room. I like to think in some alternative universe, there’s a version of us that broke free from the rigid confines of evangelism. That somewhere, there’s another Miles Brooks who never lost his way. Who never had his future stolen from him before it even started. A happy, unbroken man who loves with his whole heart, just the way God made him.

I think I’d like to meet him one day.

“Hey, Mom,” I whisper, raking my fingers through the grass. “I’m sorry it’s been so long. I don’t have an excuse other than I can’t stand being out here.” I give my father’s grave a quick glance, and it suddenly feels like my chest is caving in.

William Brooks, it says, and underneath, Beloved father. That’s not true at all though. I have no love for my father. My heart didn’t hurt when he died. It felt like someone had lifted weight off my shoulders.

“I almost left,” I whisper, and whether the words are meant for my father, Darren, or God himself, I’m not entirely sure. “After Dad died, I packed a bag, and I took the money I had saved from my part-time job at the Pick-n-Save. I didn’t know where I was going, but I knew if I didn’t leave then, I never would, and this would be my life. Hiding myself away. Marinating in my trauma. I had a chance to leave, and I didn’t take it.”

He squeezes my hand. “Why didn’t you?”

I startle, because in my head, I’ve been talking to my mother. For a moment, I forgot Dare was beside me, and I curse myself, because he’s the reason I chose this life. He’s every reason. “You came to check on me. I was putting my bag in the car, and you ran up and threw yourself into my arms, telling me I was going to be okay.” My breath hitches. “I think I knew you were like me. Or at least that you were a little too sassy for your own good. Especially for Tallulah, Texas. I couldn’t leave you, because if I left, you would have been all alone, and I knew how hard it was going to be for you.”

“Oh, Miles. I’m sorry. You could have been free. You could have lived the life you always wanted.”

I shake my head decidedly. “I have zero regrets, Dare. Zero. I wouldn’t do a single thing differently, because knowing you—loving you—has been worth it.” I turn and glare at my father’s grave. “I’m gay. Trying to beat it out of me didn’t work. Trying to rape it out of me didn’t work. Being shoved into a role I never asked for didn’t work. I was born gay. I’ll die gay. You broke me, but I’m still here. I’m done trying to preserve your image. This church is going to be my legacy. I’m going to preach the things I believe in. I’m going to do everything I can to make this church a sanctuary for everyone.” I lean forward, almost expecting him to crawl out of the grave and lunge for me. “And you can rot in Hell.”

“Jesus,” Dare whispers, and when I look at him, he’s got this look of absolute amazement in his eyes.

“Do you think Meadows can get his hands on a backhoe?” I ask, but he just raises a questioning eyebrow at me. “I want him gone. I don’t care where he ends up, I just need him gone. It feels like his hatred is tainting the air, and I want this to be a place of peace.”

He nods. “I can have him handle it tonight.” He chews his cheek, wanting to say more, but he’s censoring himself.

“What?”

“What about . . . her ?”

Whatever bravado I may have felt dies with the question, and I have to close my eyes. I knew I’d have to face her. Darren knows she’s buried here. It still feels like a sucker punch. “I don’t know if I can go back there,” I admit, feeling like that same little boy, crying out to God, pleading for it to stop.

“No,” he quickly says, like he regrets asking the question more than he’s ever regretted anything. “That’s not what I was asking. I’m sorry. I was asking if you want me to have Meadows move her too?”

I take a breath, and it almost feels like I’m already breathing a little easier. Gone? She can just be . . . gone? Forever? The look I give is a plea, begging for it to be true. Needing to finally be rid of her.

“Please,” I whisper, my voice cracked and raw. My eyes burn as I blink back tears, but one slips out anyway. “Darren, please.”

His hand cups my cheek, and then his lips press firmly to my forehead. “Consider it done.”

“Will you come with me to see her ? I’ve never been that far back in the graveyard. Not since my father made me go to her funeral. I don’t know if I can do it alone, Dare, but I think I have to get it off my chest. To finally tell her what she did to me.”

He stares into my eyes like he’s looking right into my soul. He doesn’t even have to answer. Of course he will. He’ll follow me anywhere. He would storm the gates of Hell just to burn eternally at my side.

I love him. My Dare. My Dare-bear. Somewhere along the way, the boy I knew became a man, and though I fought like hell to fight it, that man stole my heart.

The old grave is overgrown, covered in moss, her name hidden away, lost with time. It’s better this way, I think. Seeing her name hidden makes it harder to see her face. It makes it easier to guard my broken heart. I trusted her once. I thought of her as family. She let me down as badly as my family ever did, so maybe I wasn’t too far off.

Darren is staring at the piles of wooden planks and cement blocks covering her final resting place.

“That was Mal’s doing,” I tell him. “I used to get these really bad dreams.” I tighten the grip I have on his hand, because I need to feel him closer. As close as I can get him. “I kept dreaming she was coming back for me. That my daddy figured out that I wasn’t really cured, so he sent her back to try again. When I would finally wake up, Mal would be holding me, trying to soothe me, but she just reminded me of her. I didn’t want it, Dare. I didn’t want her touching me. I didn’t want either of their hands on me.”

“I know,” he says, because I’m sure he does. “I know, Miles.”

“The dreams were worse when Mal and I tried to make love. I didn’t want that either.” I sniffle, wiping my eyes. “It felt wrong. I always felt so dirty when we were done, and I’d sit in the shower, hoping the water would wash me down the drain. Take me somewhere I belonged. Somewhere I wasn’t so broken.”

“You’re putting yourself back together,” he reminds me, kissing my shoulder.

I nod, not sure how true those words feel. I think a part of me will always hurt for the life I never had, but now I’ve got a whole new life. A big, potentially beautiful life unfolding before me. Shouldn’t I be able to cling to his love and leave behind my shame? Maybe it will get easier one day. Maybe the younger, hopeful Miles Brooks I left behind can finally be redeemed.

“I asked Mal to cover her grave about a year after we were married. I had a really bad dream that she came back. That she tried to—” I close my eyes and shake my head, trying to keep my emotions in check. “Mal didn’t ask any questions. She just brought the wood out here and covered her for me, then never mentioned it again.”

“She’s a good woman.”

I nod. “She’s the best.”

He squeezes my hand. “She’s probably going to yell at me when we get home.” He’s got that same crazed look in his eyes he always gets when he wages war on Mallory. Last time I saw it was when he tossed all Mal’s casual skirts into the washing machine and poured three economy-size bottles of bleach into the inner-drum.

He can claim it was because denim skirts are an abomination to God until he’s blue in the face, we all know he just wanted to get her back for holding my hand in church earlier that morning.

“For what?”

He swallows and quickly looks away. “Believe me, you’ll find out once we get home.”

I sigh and shake my head, kneeling over her . Dare rests his hand on my shoulder and squeezes, and I place my hand on top of his and squeeze right back.

As I stare down at the wooden planks, it feels like there aren’t enough to hold her down. This woman—this demon—has haunted me all my adult life. She’s the big bad boogeyman hiding in my closet, ready to pounce. Even in death, her presence lingers. Festers. She held me back from being the man I could have been. The man I can still be with Darren at my side.

“The Lord calls us to forgive,” I whisper, keeping my voice steady by the grace of God. “But I don’t forgive you. I can’t.” I look up at Dare, trying so damn hard to hold myself together. “Sometimes, I can still feel her on me. She was wearing this nasty-smelling powder all over her, and it was gritty against my hand.” I roll the tips of my thumbs against the sides of my index fingers, and sure enough, it feels like it’s still coating my skin. “She ruined me, Dare.”

He shakes his head. “You aren’t ruined.” He places his hand over my heart and smiles, touching his forehead to mine. “You’re mine, and you’re perfect.” He kisses my forehead. “I think you should see someone, baby. A therapist to help with the trauma you’re still carrying around. I want this to be a fresh start for all of us. You’ve been holding onto this hurt by yourself, but you’re not alone anymore. You never were.” His lips brush against mine, and he wipes away a tear I didn’t even realize was falling. When he pulls away, he cups both my cheeks with his hands. “I love you, Miles. Let me find someone to help you with this. Please?”

I sniffle, and when my head nods on its own, I’m just as surprised as he is. I was raised to believe God was all the therapy I’d ever need. I had it drilled into my head that His love would be a light to guide me through the dark times. That light has yet to show itself. I’ve heard stories of it though. My dad talked about God’s love all the time, how it reminded him of sparkling silver slashes that spread through his body, making his skin tingle. Ripping words in foreign tongues out of him. The Spirit speaking through him. I’ve tried to find that feeling, but after twenty years, it still feels like I’m putting on a show. Mumbling out gibberish and pretending I’m speaking in tongues, so the rest of our church didn’t realize I was a fraud. I want that light. I’ve wanted to see it all my life, and as God as my witness, when I look up at Dare, I finally can. It’s there, shining out of my boy, right at me. It isn’t silver or sparkling. It doesn’t make me want to cry out in God’s foreign tongue. It’s simple, and it’s true. Truer than anything that’s come before.

Darren Matthews is the light, and he’s absolutely blinding.

My hands feel dirty, and when I look down at them, I realize it’s not the memory of her powder clinging to my skin. It’s actual dirt. I’ve got one hand dug into the soil, clawing at earth like I’m trying to claw my way down to her . There’s a well of untapped anger inside me, and I know Darren’s right. I need to talk to someone about this. I can’t keep going the way I am. If I want to be the man he deserves, I have to work past my pain.

“Will you come with me?” I whisper. “To the therapist? I don’t want to go alone.”

He reaches down and takes my dirt-covered hand, squeezing. “You got it.”

We make our way out of the small, wooded area. The rest of the church is gone, but Mal and Meadows are still here, chatting by the fire. The pig is fully roasted, but since we have no desire to eat pure filth, he just lets the hog rest there, his skin burning and charring down to ash.

Dare leads me past them, then back into the church. The place is a ghost town, and I don’t know where he’s taking me, but I trust him with my life. I’d follow him anywhere. Through the gates of Hell, if he asked.

We walk upstairs and into the baptism chamber. I ask what’s going on, but he reaches for the tail of my shirt, untucking me. Next comes the belt, and then my slacks. When all that’s shielding me from the stained-glass depiction of Jesus is a pair of unnecessarily tight boxer-briefs—Darren’s choice—I blush, covering my package, because Jesus doesn’t want to see all that.

Darren slowly undresses, then steps into the hot tub, holding out a hand for me. Again, I take it, because I trust him.

“Miles,” he says, cupping my cheek as we stand in thigh-high water. “No one is ever going to hurt you again.” He leans closer, kissing me softly. “You’ve protected me all my life, and now I’m going to return the favor.” His hands are at my side, urging me to turn. I don’t understand what’s happening at first. Not until he lifts my hand and says, “Pinch your nose shut.” Once it’s done, he lifts my other hand to my heart, placing a palm against my back.

“Dare?”

His smile widens. “You were with me when I was baptized. I didn’t feel God or Jesus that day, but I felt you. I always feel you in my heart. Do you remember what you told me when it was over?” He places the hand not holding my back against my chest.

“Brothers in Christ. Best friends for life.”

He nods. “You’re mine. Always.” And with that, he gently pushes, and I allow my knees to go slack. His hands guide me to the water, and even though the chlorine is going to burn, I don’t close my eyes. I keep them right on Darren, giving myself to him. Washing away all the hurt and horrible things we’ve gone through to get here. When I emerge from the water, I feel more at peace than I ever have. It may be psychological, but I truly feel a weight has been lifted. I don’t feel washed completely clean, but the hurt that usually rests dormant in my heart isn’t nearly as noticeable.

I feel like I’ve been reborn.

Our lips touch, and I cup his cheek, leading him down to the water, wanting to give him what he’s just given me. Peace of mind. I don’t stop when his head goes under, I simply join him underneath, breathing my air into his mouth, moaning as his hand grips my ass.

When we rise, he almost looks like he’s glowing.

It’s because of me. Because of us.

“We have overcome,” I whisper. “Just not the way we planned.”

“I like this way better.”

“Me too, Dare-bear. Me too.”