Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 65376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
The nurse comes in then, interrupting us. She checks the spot under the bandage at my neck, the one at my groin, then gets my other vitals while Vance disappears into the bathroom. She helps me into the chair—using that nurse magic where they know how to help you move with minimal energy.
“How do you feel, young man?” Her kindly grandma eyes are on mine.
I feel honest. “Not so young.”
“You’ll be old one day, and that will seem a silly sentiment.”
My eyes ache. I will be old. I want to be old with Vance.
She leaves with a few kind words, and Vance comes out.
“What did the nurse say?”
“All good—with my body, anyway. When I left the hospital, they said walk a lot.”
He helps me up. “Let’s walk, then.”
* * *
VANCE
We walk out into an empty house. There’s a note from Pearl on the counter beside a plate piled high with pancakes and covered with tinfoil.
Arman and I will be back to check on you boys soon. She drew an arrow pointing at the plate. Pancakes!!
“You boys.” I grin. “Do you think she knew, Luke?”
He smiles. “Oh, I know she did. I was doctoring the footage of me coming through your atrium and out into the garden. But a few times when I went to do it, someone else had.”
“She’s a good friend. Really cares about you.”
“I care about her, too.” Luke reaches for my jaw and strokes it. “Tell you something. Not to make you feel bad. She kind of planned the Spain thing when we were up in Ottawa…and said I couldn’t go…mostly so I could figure out this with you.”
“Damn. You said you couldn’t go?”
He shoves me. “I was only going to officiate. Only four of their friends went.”
“I guess that’s better.” I kiss his head. Then I let my gaze run down his body. “How’re you feeling, Sky? You really okay?”
“Yeah.”
We eat our pancakes on the couch, and he looks tired.
“What happened? You just got sicker and…”
He stares out at the wall in front of us. Swallows and shuts his eyes. And he says, “I don’t want to tell you.”
“So you won’t. Unless you change your mind.”
He takes my hand and tugs me so I’m lying up against him. “How did I get lucky like this?”
I kiss his head. “Why don’t you sleep on it? See if the answer comes to you in dreams.”
I pull a blanket over us, and there we sleep.
30
Luke
The Board of Elders meeting is scheduled three nights after I found out about the video’s existence. Early in the day, before the meeting, I issue a statement about the video. I do it that way on purpose, so the board can see, before our meeting, that I’m doing this part—the personal part of all this—my way. If they don’t like that, they can ask me to go.
“There is a video of myself and another man circulating online and in tabloids. It was filmed through the curtains of a sick bay in an ER, where I was being treated for a serious health issue. The man shown comforting me is my partner. While I would, like everyone, prefer my private life stay private, I realize it often will not. I am a public figure with a very public ministry. I’ve long understood a consequence of that is scrutiny and commentary. I’m a minister, and I am gay. To me, these two facts are compatible. I avoided coming out for too long due to fear and shame. Not the fear that God did not make me in His likeness, but that others may condemn or disassociate with me. I am thankful for this video, because it helped me be more honest about my truths. I appreciate the support of loved ones during this time. I appreciate the patience of my partner. I appreciate your kindness and your understanding in the future, as I work through the challenges and enjoy the pleasures that I know will come with being out. Sincerely, Luke McDowell”
Vance and I have been fake jousting with the Star Wars light sabers—and with our own—for the last two days. I’m stronger. Not too weak to stand and speak, no longer dizzy. But…it’s new, this feeling—being out. I feel like a turtle with no shell.
“It should get easier,” Vance tells me. “You know that, though.”
I nod, and squeeze his hand.
It’s 4:40 PM, and he’s driving the Tesla. He park in the garage and we get out together. Vance takes my hand.
“Do you like this?” he asks. “You want me to let go?”
“Don’t let go.”
“I wish I could go in there with you.”
“I wish you could too. But it’ll be okay.”
We make the trek toward my office together. His thumb strokes the top of my hand as we pass his atrium and head up the stairs. I have to stop and rest, and Vance looks worried. “Maybe we should have taken the elevator.”