by K. Z. Snow
2. He was a collector; I just didn’t know it.
3. He bought it for someone else
4. It actually belonged to someone else, who brought it to the cabin
5. Dicked if I know
D. His Death
1. Murder
a. By another lover—jealous, possessive, violent—who was with him at the cabin
b. By a homophobe like Dumbass Dale
2. Suicide
3. Accident
4. Dicked if I know
E. Love (ditto these for Evan, maybe)
1. Frank didn’t really love me/us
2. Frank loved me/us fully and truly
3. Frank wasn’t capable of romantic love; he still loved the Church, even though it had rejected him
4. Frank loved me/us the best he knew how
“All truth is simple—is that not doubly a lie?”
I’d underlined the only conclusions I could draw based on what I knew and added a quote by Nietzsche. There was nothing simple about the truth… or about the process of unearthing it. I doubted I’d find further closure unless I provided my own. And it would have to come from within.
WHEN Evan picked me up late that afternoon, he informed me we’d be going to St. Jerry’s after stopping at his house. He had to shower, put on clean clothes, and check his e-mail.
We had to shower. Evan said he wanted to make up for neglecting me that morning.
From the moment his hand wrapped around my wrist and he drew me, not pulled me, into the stall, I knew this coupling would be different. I knew we’d be making love.
We stood beneath the streaming water without saying a word and simply gazed at each other. How earnest he looked as he studied my face, his fingers inching over my eyebrows and cheekbones and lips. I slowly caressed his chest, the tight curve of ribs and muscle that led to his back, the smooth slope of his loins. We moved in closer as our excitement mounted. But we wouldn’t rush this.
I knew I would forever remember our gentle, darting kisses and the slick hardness of our bodies as we fit them together, pressing close, sliding a little against each other. We let the water become a partner in our lovemaking.
Evan worked down the length of me, kissing and stroking, and I did the same to him. Then we came together again, holding each other tightly and kissing deeply and conveying messages that didn’t require words.
Without realizing it, I was like a kid filling his pockets with things he found special—broken toys and pencil stubs, rocks and candy wrappers. Things other people wouldn’t even notice, much less save and cherish. Only it was bits of Evan that became my treasures: the smooth gleam of his shoulders, the sensual drip of water from the tip of his nose and cock, the glisten of droplets within his coal-black pubic hair. And all those careful movements of his large, rough hands and broad, tender mouth.
Time slid around us like a slipstream, as if we were fixed points. Each of us knelt and sucked the other to climax. I would always treasure that, too, how exquisitely at home my cock felt on the soft-firm bed of his tongue.
When it was over—and it was over quickly once we got to our hard-ons—we stood and again drew together. Arms at sides and fingers loosely interlinked, heads bowed into the crook of each other’s neck, we let the water wash over us. Finally, after days of talking, it hadn’t been necessary to speak.
That eloquent silence would become a cherished part of my relationship with Evan. I knew it beyond a doubt. And that meant I knew we’d have a relationship… if we had the courage to follow through.
Maybe it’ll pass.
Uh-uh, not anytime soon. And I think Evan knew it.
He became more preoccupied as we toweled off and got dressed.
“Are you going to check your e-mail now?” I asked gently.
“Yeah.” His brow was furrowed.
“Do you want me there with you?”
He turned up his eyes to my face as he pulled the hem of his sweatshirt over his hips. “Yes.”
We crossed over to the other side of the house, where a large room served as Evan’s office. A high-end exercise machine stood in one corner.
“You’ve been cheating,” I said.
“I beg your pardon?”
I motioned toward the apparatus. “Here I thought you got that physique from felling timber.”
That prompted a faint but typical, and increasingly endearing, Evan-blush. “Hey, I’m thirty-seven. I need all the help I can get.”
I rolled a chair up to the computer desk as Evan brought up his Gmail account. There it was, third from the top: a message from Travis Burton.
Evan was trembling enough to have trouble clicking. But he managed, and the message popped onto the screen.
Hi, Mr. McAllister!
It was really nice to hear from you. You don’t need to be excused for anything.
I won’t beat around the bush.
Yes, Scott was gay.
He didn’t tell you because he felt you had plenty of other issues to deal with, and he didn’t want to burden you by giving you more to worry about. That’s all there was to it. He worshipped you. Don’t doubt that for a minute. I know he would’ve told you sooner than later but he never got the chance.
Trust me, he was happy. I know because I shared his happiness. You can’t believe how much I miss him. Well, you probably can. It’s like a dull ache that won’t go away. I even feel it in my stomach sometimes.
My only comfort is that the last words we spoke to each other were “I love you.” He took that with him. And I have it with me. We knew joy.
Let’s get together the next time I’m home, OK? In the meantime, write whenever you feel like it.
Take care,
Travis Burton
Evan pulled his lips between his teeth as he stared at the monitor.
My eyes felt misty.
“He was in love,” Evan finally whispered.
“There’s nothing better,” I said. “Except having a son who worships you.”
Now it was my turn to hold him while he cried. Another honor. And one more treasure to add to my filling pockets.
Chapter Ten
“YOU still don’t know how long you’ll be staying in Prism Falls?” Evan asked as we drove back to town.
“Well, I did set a budget for myself, so I can’t be at the inn for more than a week. It isn’t super-expensive, but it ain’t cheap either. Especially when you throw in the cost of eating out.”
Evan slowly nodded. “You also have a life to get back to.”
I pulled down my mouth to minimize this point. “Superficial socializing. That’s about it. I told you, my family is scattered all over the country, so they’re not in the Twin Cities. And I can work anywhere.” I gave him a pointed glance. “I obviously don’t have a boyfriend waiting for me.”
“Nobody who’s even, you know, sort of becoming one?” he asked with strenuous nonchalance.
I held in a smile. “Nope. Nobody.”
Evan cleared his throat.
Please let him say it.
“If you wanted to hang around for a while, to write or whatever, you could always stay at my place. I have plenty of room. No strings attached, of course.”
I held my bliss in check, because I didn’t want Evan thinking I was either a freeloader or a sex hound. “That’s very generous of you,” I said sincerely, “but I don’t want to impose.” I truly didn’t.
Evan shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind. We get along pretty well.”
“Like a round peg in a round hole, right?”
He blushed. “That’s not what I meant.”
“No?”
Although he was still embarrassed, he smiled grudgingly. “Well, maybe a little. It isn’t just about the sex, though. And don’t make me tell you again that I like you.”
As I regarded him, I got the weirdest feeling inside. It seemed as if my organs were rearranging themselves. I knew damned well what that meant. He wasn’t just getting to me, he’d gotten to me. I’d passed th
e point of no return.
“Minneapolis is only three hours away,” I said. “You realize that, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I realize that.” Warily, Evan glanced at me. “What’s your point?”
“Just that… if we’d like to keep seeing each other, even after I go back, I wouldn’t mind driving in for a long weekend once or twice a month.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Evan was quiet for a couple of seconds. “I think I’d like that.”
What I didn’t tell him, because it was far too soon, was that I’d been feeling disenchanted with life in the city. I’d been weighing the advantages and disadvantages of moving to a small town or rural area. The only thing that had given me pause was the likely dearth of single gay men. I was more than willing to give up the bar and party scene, but I sure as hell didn’t want to forgo sex.
We parked in the large lot behind St. Jerome’s and entered through a side door for which Evan had a key. Lights burned in the rectory next door and quilted the surrounding snow with golden patches. They made the white clapboard house look cozy and inviting.
I imagined Leo Felsicker sitting in an overstuffed chair in a small library, a halo of light from an old, bridge-arm floor lamp illuminating the open book he held in his lap. I imagined him slipping off his reading glasses and gazing into the room’s dark middle distance as he thought about Frank. If only, my friend, your vocation had come first…. And I imagined Frank hovering behind the chair, a bemused, benign presence. My vocation and my private life shouldn’t have been mutually exclusive, Lee. I never harmed anybody. Don’t you think the Creator has more important things to be concerned about than what men do with their penises?
Evan stopped inside the door and turned to me. The vestibule of the side entry was small, cool, and dim. “Seems to me,” he said, “you shouldn’t commit to regular visits until we spend more time together.”
I read his subtext as until you stay with me for a while. “True. And vice versa.”
“When do you want to bring over your things? Or do you want to discuss it later?”
“Later,” I said, trying to make out his face. I could easily see the wide span of his shoulders. “Do you think we’ll go to hell if we kiss each other here?”
“No.”
Since we were in agreement, we kissed. It certainly helped kill the chill.
Standing there in the church-scented stillness, we seemed swaddled in our own nervous excitement and tentative hope. Maybe we were really onto something here. Maybe it would work out better than either of us could have imagined.
We deserved at least a thread of hope.
“Well, come on,” Evan said. “We have a floor to clean.”
“We?”
I thought I saw him smile. “I won’t tolerate slackers.”
We entered the church proper and walked down the ambulatory that ran past St. Jerome. The old fart didn’t look quite so dour this evening. I glanced at the left bank of votives and noticed my candle was still burning. Its small flame flickered when we passed, as if Frank were greeting us.
A blessing would be nice, if you can manage it.
“Steven! Welcome back!”
Startled, I pulled up short and looked to the right. Peg stood with her hands on her hips, beaming at me. Her coworker, whose name, Evan had told me, was Jocelyn, waved. I waved back.
“Mind if I go talk to her?” I asked Evan.
“No, not at all.” He clapped me on the shoulder and lowered his voice. “Every girl’s crazy ’bout a sharp-dressed man. Especially one with a nice ass.” He gave me an encouraging pat, then a wink. “Watch your back, Hot Stuff.”
Well, I thought, isn’t he in a good mood? It put me in an even better mood. I was almost willing to help him clean the floor.
Hands in pockets, I sauntered to the middle of the church and met Peg at the center aisle. Jocelyn disappeared into the far reaches of the Virgin Mary ambulatory. Maybe she’d gone into the sacristy, the room behind the altar area. Peg and I took a seat.
“I’m so glad to see you and Evan striking up a friendship,” she said with genuine pleasure. Her blue gaze twinkled over my face.
My spirits rose higher. “Yeah, we really hit it off.”
“Are you single too?”
“Yup.”
Peg cast a quick glance toward the back of the church. Curious, I did the same. Evan, who seemed to have been surreptitiously watching us, flashed us a self-conscious smile and immediately headed toward a door just inside the front vestibule, behind the last row of pews.
“Have you known him long?” I asked.
Peg flapped a hand. “Oh, God, since he was born! I used to powder his butt when he was a baby.”
I coughed, felt my face heat up. I took way more time than was necessary to put my left arm over the back of the pew, cross my legs, and find a place on my thigh to rest my right hand. In the distance at my back, I heard muffled thuds.
“Steven?”
“Hm?”
“I truly hope the two of you spend more time together. He’s a wonderful man, and he deserves a special friend.”
It seemed there was subtext to Peg’s words. Since I couldn’t be sure, I didn’t respond.
She kept watching me in a very unnerving way, as if she had access to my thoughts. “I’m not going to ask what brought you here,” she said quietly, “but I had a good idea as soon as you said you’d come from Minneapolis. When Father Felsicker told me Frank Connor had died—he’s planning a memorial Mass, by the way—I had more than just an idea.”
Nodding, I looked down at my lap and licked my lips. What exactly was she getting at?
“Please don’t think I’m trying to butt into your business. I just want you to know….”
When Peg paused, I looked up at her. I could feel the pulse in my neck.
Her voice softened to a murmur. “It would be great if you and Evan became close. He’s my nephew, you know. Through marriage.”
My eyes widened.
“I adore that boy,” Peg said. “You’ll not find a person with a bigger heart anywhere. He deserves some happiness in his life.”
I found my voice, because I had to. “I think you might be right.” Now I knew what all her delicacy had been about. Damned if she wasn’t playing matchmaker! I could hardly believe it, but there was no other explanation.
“If you’ll be in town for a while, I’d love to have the two of you over for dinner.”
“I’d like that.”
“Good. We’ll set something up before you leave tonight.”
The drone of the floor machine echoed through the church. Reflexively, I turned. Evan moved up the far aisle. A black curl had fallen over his forehead. The thick waves he’d so carefully combed back had softened and begun to shade the tops of his ears. His rolled-up sleeves exposed his forearms, their muscles and tendons flexing into prominence as he guided his oversized lady across their dance floor. Even from where I sat, the sight of him tugged at me.
I don’t know what kind of look I had on my face, but I caught Peg watching me with the faintest smile of pleasure. She definitely knew what was going on between Evan and me. And she heartily approved.
Peg took my hand, startling me yet again. She looked into my eyes. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am about what happened to Frank. And I don’t just mean that horrible accident.”
Another shock. “You knew about…?”
She nodded. “We got to be pals maybe two years before he left. That’s how I knew he was moving to the Twin Cities.”
“And why he was moving?”
“Yes,” she said gently. “And why. He didn’t come out and actually tell me the reason—he was too classy to blab about his personal business, a very discreet man—but I knew the score. I figured it out based on the conversations we’d had.”
“Did you tell anybody else?” I was thinking of Evan, of course. He’d told me he hadn’t known anything for sure. He’d only guessed Frank
had left the priesthood.
“No,” Peg said. “Not a soul. Not even my husband. It wasn’t my place to spread it around.”
I didn’t get why Frank would confide in her. “What kind of conversations did you have, exactly?”
“Well, they started when I went to see him about a dear friend’s daughter. She wanted very much to marry her partner and adopt a child, but it was tearing the family apart. I talked to Frank about it.”
“Uh… what was different about the daughter’s partner?” I asked, trying to keep up. I didn’t want to misinterpret anything.
“She was female,” Peg said.
“Oh. Yeah, that would upset some people.”
“Anyway, since my friend’s family was pretty religious, I went to Frank with their problem. I just wanted to get a clergyman’s take on it. He spoke some of the wisest words I’ve ever heard. I’ll tell you, it took real guts and integrity for a priest to say those things. Even a gay priest—which, by the way, I didn’t know he was at the time.”
It jarred me a little to hear her speak the phrase gay priest, but I lowered my eyes this time instead of widening them. “What was it he said?”
“Basically, that love is never wrong, no matter who it’s between. Then he said that people keep losing sight of the fact we’re members of but one species on one small planet, and God has bigger things to worry about than what human beings are doing with certain parts of their anatomies.”
I snorted out a laugh. Yeah, I’d heard the mantra, except in a slightly cruder form. In fact, it had just come to me as I’d walked past the rectory.
Although I had a strong urge to look at Evan—I wasn’t sure why—I refrained. I didn’t mind Peg knowing I liked her nephew, but I didn’t want her thinking I was balls-out lecherous and only interested in one thing.
“So,” I said, “about Evan….” He’d never told me Peg was his aunt, much less that she knew about his orientation. “When did you know?”
“Oh, I’ve suspected for nearly twenty years,” Peg said offhandedly. “I finally just asked him.”
“No kidding.” I grinned. “How’d he respond?”
