Page 31 of Vespertine

“What we had was special. I did love you, Nicky. But lifemoved on and we’re grown men now. Both of us with a defining personal historythat happened in the absence of each other.”

“And whose choice was that?”

“It was the way it had to be.”

“As God intended,” Nicky mocked.

“I wanted to make this better, but I don’t think I am. Ishould go,” Jazz said, rubbing his palms against his pants, a rare expressionof defeat on his face. When they were kids, Nicky would have kissed that lookaway. Now it just pissed him off even more.

“Sure. Run away. You’re good at that,” Nicky murmured.

Jazz turned toward the house.

Nicky slung the crowbar against the first rotten wooden stephe came across, the sound of the splintering wood satisfying his rage. Heturned to watch Jazz’s escape, calling out, “What? You’re not going to fightback? You’re not going to point out that I’m great at running away too?” Nickyswung the crowbar up to rest on his shoulder, staring at Jazz, who watchedcoolly from where he’d paused by the pool.

Jazz’s chin was lifted a little, his arms were crossed, feethip-width apart and,God, Nicky wanted to laugh.Priest or no priest, Jazz hadn’t managed to get rid of his pride. That damncollar around his neck hadn’t entirely leashed him.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right. Maybe I don’t know who you areanymore. Because I know you used to be passionate. You used to fight with mewhen I was a dick. Now you just turn away like you’re untouchable.” Nicky shookhis head, water and sweat droplets sliding down his temples. “You’re not in theconfessional now, Jazz. Why don’t you act like a human being and not a fuckingpriest?”

He turned his back on him and dug the crowbar beneath thewood of another rotten-looking step. The splinter and crack was satisfying andhe ripped at it ferociously before moving on to another and ripping it out too.He felt more than heard Jazz’s approach but he looked up when he’d finishedwith a third step. He pushed the hair out of his face and glared at Jazz.

“I’m always a priest whether I’m in the confessional or not.That’s the way priesthood works. You know that. And, believe it or not, priestsare human beings. We’re fallible and we screw up, and, yes, sometimes we can bereal wankers. I still get angry. But I’m not angry at you.”

Nicky sneered. “That’s supposed to make me feel better?Maybe I want you to be angry at me.”

“You’re making this really hard, Nicky.” Jazz put his handsin his pockets and tilted his head back, exposing the length of his neck.

“Are you praying?”

“Yes.”

Nicky rolled his eyes and pulled up another step. When hewas finished, he threw the crowbar aside and sat down on the grass. Jazz cameover and sat down next to him, close enough that Nicky could almost touch hishand. He wondered what Jazz would do if he did? If he kissed his knuckles andfingertips the way he had years ago. Or maybe he should just throttle him, rollhis smug ass down the hill, and dump him in the bay.

“All right, Nicky. Let’s try this again. I feel like you’vegot questions you want to ask me. So why don’t you? Maybe we can both put atleast some parts of our past behind us.”

Nicky scratched at his sweaty stubble. “Sure. Why not? I’llask you a few questions and you’ll give me a few answers, and poof, suddenlyeverything will be all right.” Nicky pressed his palms together and looked tothe sky. “By the blessed power of Father Jazz.”

“No, Nicky. I just thought you might want to hear it.” Jazzsounded tired.

He’d had seventeen years to think about what he’d ask Jasperif he had the chance. He may as well satisfy his curiosity now. “All right,”Nicky said, slinging his arms around his knees and glancing over at Jazz. “Howdo you make it work? The whole priest and gay thing? Does it keep you awake atnight?”

Jazz’s lips twitched into a small smile. “No. I had all thatfigured out before I went to college.”

Another thing Jazz had never shared with him at the time.Unsurprising, of course, but those wounds had never healed up right anyway. “Oh,this should be good. How’s that justification work out exactly?”

“You really want to have a theological discussion on the Bible’sstance on homosexuality, Nicky?”

“Well, if it has anything to do with why you blindsided mewith the whole ‘Thanks, Nicky, making love with you was great, but I’m gonna gobe a celibate priest now’ I’d like to know. Sure. Why not? Hit me.”

Jazz plucked a piece of grass and worked the fiber of itapart with his fingers, his eyes on the bay instead of on Nicky. “You canprobably imagine what it was like, being a Catholic kid and realizing I wasgay.”

Nicky shrugged. It’d been something he’d considered a lotback then, actually. Jazz was always devout—he’d been an altar boy for fuck’ssake. He’d wondered why Jazz had never seemed especially conflicted by theirrelationship. “It never seemed to bother you.”

“Well, it did. I knew I was gay from a very young age.” Jazz’smouth quirked on one side. “See, I met this little kid with dark brown, wavyhair and sky-blue eyes and he stole my heart.”

“Nah, it was just hormones.”

Jasper rolled his eyes. “You can guess how scared I was whenI first felt the call. For a long time I pretended nothing was happening.”