Page 41

Thirty-Nine

Isaac

“ I ’ll be on a plane first thing tomorrow morning,” I mumble groggily into the phone.

“Are you sure?” Lola asks with concern. “You’ve been through a lot, Isaac.”

I let out a sigh as I stare out the window. Adam is in the driver’s seat next to me, and I can’t help but agree with Lola here. I have been through a lot. This month has been pure insanity, but I made a promise to Jensen. I told him I’d keep going.

Not to mention, I need to be on the stage again. What others don’t understand is that performing isn’t work to me. It’s cathartic. It’s when my mind gets a break from all the noise, chaos and pain. It doesn’t hurt onstage.

“Well, maybe you should consider getting some support of your own,” she says, and I love her for saying that. The motherly concern coming from such a badass is the most wholesome thing I’ve ever heard.

Choosing not to mock her for it, I simply nod. “I will. You’re absolutely right.”

She gives a haughty chuckle. “I know I am.”

“See you tomorrow, Lo.”

“See you tomorrow, Isaac.”

After hanging up the phone, I’m suddenly alone with my brother, Adam. The brother I haven’t seen for eleven years, other than the dramatic moment yesterday morning in the waiting room nearly twenty-four hours ago.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

I shrug. “Yeah. Everything is fine. I’ll get there in time to run through the set list before the show. I missed some local news spot and the official dress rehearsal, but that’s the least of my worries.”

He nods as he drives. I can see the tension in his posture and expression. I’m sure there’s a lot he wants to say to me, and honestly, there’s a lot I want to say to him too, but I’m just so fucking tired.

I hardly slept all night. I was lucky the nurses let me stay the night with Jensen in his room. Most of the time, they kick you out after visiting hours, but after the show Mr. Miles put on, waving around his badge and threatening a discrimination lawsuit, they didn’t say a word to me.

It’s morning now, and I am in desperate need of a shower and some real food, not the vending machine bullshit I survived on yesterday.

When Adam pulls up to my mother’s house, I notice the other cars in the drive. He puts the car into park but doesn’t move to get out. Instead, he turns to face me.

“You’ve been through a lot, so I won’t burden you with anything now, but I just want to take a moment to say…”

He pauses and I watch as his eyes fill with tears. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

My mouth lifts with a crooked smirk. “Thanks, Adam, but?—”

“You know I’m not talking about your career, right?”

I freeze, staring at him across the center console of the car. I’m cried out and talked out and just so sick of all the goddamn feelings, but hearing my older brother, the one I looked up to my whole life, tell me he’s proud of me…

It cuts deep. It’s been a long road for both of us to get here, one I’m sure we’ll discuss more in time—now that we have time.

Without a word, I lean over and pull him into a tight hug. “Thank you, Adam.”

“It doesn’t matter how much anyone missed you. It doesn’t matter who it hurt when you left. You understand that, right? You did the right thing, Isaac.”

Tearfully, I nod against his shoulder.

“You’re the best. The rest of us are a fucking mess, but you…you’re the good one.”

I didn’t know I had any tears left. But I cry them into Adam’s embrace, anyway. Adam was the hardest person to walk away from, not because I missed him but because I saw the path he was headed down, and it felt like I was losing him. In a way, I think I left so I didn’t have to watch my closest brother turn into our father.

Instead of me losing him, he lost me.

Then, to see him fight for me yesterday was the second biggest relief of the day. Adam grew into the man I knew he could be instead of the man I was afraid he’d become. He grew into the father I always needed.

“We should get inside,” he says, eventually pulling away. “Mom made breakfast, and I’m sure you’re starved.”

The word breakfast has my stomach growling audibly.

“Shower first. Then breakfast,” I reply with a smile.

He nods before we both climb out of the car.

I stand under the hot water for what feels like hours. I needed this. If I could wash away the last forty-eight hours, I would.

When I come downstairs after my shower, wearing the clean clothes Adam brought over for me, I’m greeted by all of my brothers in one room. They’re sitting around the table, chatting like it’s just a regular Tuesday morning. It feels like sliding the last puzzle piece into the puzzle.

“Hey, baby,” my mother says as she stands from the table with her coffee cup in hand. “You hungry?”

“Starving,” I reply.

Adam grabs me a plate and my brothers rush to fill it with eggs and bacon and biscuits and pancakes. I grin softly at them as I take the plate. “Thanks, guys.”

“Here,” Adam says, pulling out the chair next to him. “I saved you a seat.”

We stare at each other before I sit down next to him. Luke is across from me, watching me like the protector he is. Caleb tries to act natural, picking food off his plate. And my mother is at the head of the table to my left. She looks content and I don’t take that for granted for a moment.

Then we fall into easy conversation. No one brings up Jensen or church or Dad or anything. We mostly joke and catch up and poke fun at each other. It’s nice. So nice.

I needed this. We’ve never had the opportunity to be together like this without our father around. Just brothers.

Adam tells us that Sage wants to start trying for another baby already. Caleb makes a sex joke, and Luke immediately replies with some jab about him having the most sex since he has two spouses, and my mom winces next to me.

“You boys behave!” she says, covering her ears. “Mothers are not supposed to hear this stuff.”

We all laugh so hard my cheeks hurt. It seems wrong after what the last two days have entailed, but it feels good to smile now.

My first thought is that I want to tell Jensen about this. Eventually, I will.

Getting an idea, I pull out my phone and open the Notes app. It’s filled with lyrics and ideas, and I open a new one.

Breakfast at my mom’s, my brother bringing up threesomes.

I’ll keep a running note of everything I want to tell Jensen until I see him again. It’ll keep me occupied over the next two months. And it will always remind me of how lucky I am that I will have the opportunity to tell him.

Even after breakfast is done and we clean up the table, we still sit down together and talk. No one is in any hurry to leave this.

That is until there’s a knock at the door.

“Expecting company?” Adam asks my mom. She shakes her head.

“Not that I know of,” she replies as she stands from the table. “It’s probably one of the neighbors. I’ll get it.”

My brothers and I watch as she walks to the front door. We all glance at each other with confusion, expecting her to greet one of her church friends.

But then I hear a voice that sends chills down my spine.

“I don’t think you should be here,” my mother says gently.

“He’s my son too, Melanie. I just want to see him.”

Chairs fly from the table as my brothers bolt up in unison. I’m too frozen to move, but I hear footsteps as someone enters the house.

Then I see my father pausing at the entrance of the dining room, his eyes immediately landing on me.

All three of my brothers move to stand like guards between him and me.

“Get the fuck out,” Adam barks first.

I rise from the dining room chair, feeling helpless as I watch my brothers fume with rage at our father.

“Now,” Caleb adds.

Truett puts his hands up in surrender.

“Boys, please,” Mom pleads. “I don’t want anyone fighting today. Hasn’t your brother been through enough?”

“Then tell him to leave,” Luke says with spite.

“I’m not here to hurt anybody,” my father cries, his voice shaking as he tries to get a look at me. Caleb and Luke keep blocking his path. “I heard what happened. I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

“He’s fine,” Adam bites back. “We’re taking care of him. Now leave.”

My dad tilts his head to get a glimpse of me. There is a heaviness in my chest at seeing him again.

Caleb steps toward our dad with a look of hatred on his face. “Mom, call the police.”

Before I know it, I’m stepping forward with my hand out. “Stop.”

Everyone looks at me. And I meet their gazes with empathy. “Please. No cops or fighting. Just…let me talk to him for a minute.”

Caleb’s nostrils flare with anger and Luke’s jaw clenches, but I see Adam give me a gentle nod. My brothers would fight my wars for me if they could, probably to make up for all the times they never did, but I’m not a kid anymore. I’m a man now, and I refuse to solve every problem with fighting.

If Truett wants to talk, I’ll listen.

But I have some things to say too.

“We’ll be right outside,” Adam says with a hand on my shoulder as I nod toward him.

“If you need us, just holler,” Caleb says before placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Thanks. I’ll be fine.”

Luke gives me a silent nod before he leaves. I hear the back door close as the four of them escape to the patio, leaving my dad and me alone in the dining room.

As he stands before me, I take in his appearance. He looks nothing like I remember. Thinner. Older. Broken. Honestly, with that shaky breathing and gaunt appearance, he looks like he’s standing at death’s door. I honestly wonder how much time he has left in this condition. The past few years have been hard on him.

“Let’s go into the living room,” I say. As he walks to the other side of the house, I notice the shakiness in his steps. I had myself mentally prepared to take the brunt of his judgment and wrath, but now I see this old man can hardly stand on his own.

He has no power over me.

With a shudder in his limbs, he sits down in the old leather armchair by the fireplace and I settle onto the right side of the couch. I have no idea if I’m supposed to talk first or he is, so I sit in silence and wait.

When he looks at me, I try to define the expression on his face. It’s not anger like I expected. Then I remember that phone call he made to me a couple weeks ago. He told me he was proud of me. Nothing that I expected with him is happening and it has me feeling guarded.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice laced with concern.

“I’m fine.” There’re those two words again. The biggest lie of them all.

But it’s not like I’m about to open up to this guy.

“Is he…”

“He’s fine,” I reply. “How did you hear about it?”

My dad scrubs a hand over his face. “I got a call. They told me who it was. I’ve met him before, you know? He’s a good man.”

Hearing my dad talk about Jensen sends chills down my spine. “And you know about us?”

He looks up. “I heard.”

Anger brews inside me. This little dance he’s doing, traipsing around the topic he doesn’t want to face, is pissing me off.

Leaning forward, I put my elbows on my knees and glare at him. “You know why this happened, don’t you? You know what his mother did to him? She put him in fucking conversion therapy when he was just a kid. They taught him to hate himself. A local program called Eternal Harmony. You’ve heard of it, I’m sure.”

Truett fidgets in his seat, avoiding my scrutiny.

“Don’t sit there and pretend I wouldn’t have ended up in the same place,” I mutter indignantly.

His head snaps in my direction. “You seriously think I would have done that to you?”

My jaw drops. “Yes, I do. When I came out, you slapped me across the face. Remember that?”

There’s a tic in his jaw as he looks away.

“I told you I was gay, and you tried to tell me I wasn’t. You waved a Bible in my face and told me I’d go to hell. Don’t act like you are better than them.”

There’s a wild fury in his eyes as he stares back at me. “I was terrified, Isaac.”

I let out a huffing sound of shock. “ You were terrified? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Yes, I was terrified,” he argues. “I knew what you would face. I knew what the world would do to you, but I never once thought of sending you away. All this time, you’ve been mad at me for something I didn’t even do.”

I open my mouth to argue, but the words die on my lips. What’s the point? What is the point anymore of telling men like him or people like Jensen’s mom that children shouldn’t need protection from their own parents? They are the ones who are supposed to protect us, not change us.

He clears his throat as he looks away. “I had a stroke in prison,” he mumbles. My eyes widen, but I try not to show it. “I’m not telling you that for your condolences…”

“Okay…” I mutter.

“I don’t know how much longer I’ve got left, and it’s made me realize just how bad I was. How much I hurt you kids.”

“You’re realizing this now ?”

“I’d like to do something better with the time I have left,” he replies before he starts coughing. I hear the rattle in his chest. “Especially for you. I want to make it right.”

Truett’s eyes grow moist, and suddenly, I’m hit by a revelation like lightning. I see him in a totally new light. I see a man in desperation, and it makes everything make sense all at once.

“Oh my god,” I whisper. My entire childhood replays in front of me like a slow-motion reel, and it all makes perfect sense. The sound of pride in his voice when he spoke to me. The smiles he saved just for me. The way he’d bounce me on his knee while the music played. Being the baby of the family, I always sensed a hint of favoritism from everyone. But now…I realize it was mostly from him.

He quickly blinks his tears away as he stares at me. “What?”

“I think I just figured it all out.”

“Figured what out?”

“That you really loved me. Didn’t you? Maybe the most.”

He shifts in his seat, his eyes growing wet again. This time, he doesn’t bother to blink or wipe them away. I’ve never seen him cry once in my entire life.

“And if that’s true,” I continue, putting the pieces together in my mind. “Then that means…it tore you up when I left. Maybe even broke your heart. That’s when you went off the rails, wasn’t it? That’s when you started sabotaging your own life. You lost your little boy.”

He flicks a tear off his cheek as he stares at the cold and empty fireplace. Sitting in this room, I remember the night my mom set up a makeshift stage right over there. I remember standing behind the curtain, feeling like the most special kid in the entire world because my dad was cheering for me. That pride I felt when he smiled at me, shouted my name, called me his boy…that feeling never left. That feeling…created me.

“I did all of it for you, you know? My music, my career, the fame.”

He glances up, looking a little shocked.

“I just wanted to make you proud,” I say. “That was all I ever wanted. If you had just supported me. Protected me. Maybe I never would have left. And honestly, Dad, I’m not mad at you. Unlike my brothers, I don’t hate you. In fact…”

I raise my head and level my gaze in his direction. “I pity you.”

His nostrils flare as another tear slips over his cheek.

“But I can’t let you dictate my life anymore. You’ve made your bed, and now it’s time to lie in it. If this truly is the end for you, then I hope you go knowing that I don’t hate you. I’m not even mad at you.”

Choosing not to sit around and let his sadness affect me anymore, I stand from the couch and walk toward the back patio where the rest of my family is.

Before leaving, I turn back to face him.

“I know you prayed to God for me to be different. But you know, Dad, I wish you were different.”

He turns toward me, his eyes red and bloodshot, as he softly whispers, “I am proud of you, Isaac. I’m so proud of you. You were right. I always loved my boys, and when you left, it nearly killed me.”

The words wash over me like oil on water. I give him a lazy shrug as I reply, “It doesn’t matter anymore. Bye, Dad.”

With that, I leave him sitting alone and join the rest of my family, where I belong.