Light in the Dark Night

by Bree Cariad

  Perhaps after the holidays he should get some therapy. This had to be some psychological thing where he found a man who loved so utterly freely and thought himself attracted in return. It would probably go away. If he could stay away. Which he couldn’t.

  They told the kids about the makeovers early and they were excited. Everyone had a distinct look they wanted and, as usual, Siobhan pulled it off. Except for their holiday staff, the rest of Brecker Security was on vacation so Siobhan accompanied Brecker to the shelter on Christmas Eve to see the results of the fun.

  The classroom and the stairs were both set up for photos and as they walked in, they spotted four of the girls getting their photos taken. They looked beautiful. And so utterly happy it made Brecker joyful just to look at them.

  But it wasn’t just the youth. He looked around at the photographers and support staff. They had that glow he associated with the place. How could anyone not be happy once they’d spent time with Jonathon, Rolf, and those amazing teenagers?

  “Brecker.” He turned and startled as Aiden walked toward him. He looked taller and his hair was cut a little and straightened. No longer androgynous, Aiden looked like the boy he was.

  “You look amazing. How do you feel?” Brecker asked after giving him a hug.

  “Great.” Aiden beamed. “This has been fun. I was one of the first ones they took pictures of. But I wanted to stay in my outfit until….” His cheeks turned pink and Brecker knew he had been about to say “Until you got here.”

  “Well, you look fantastic, Aiden. I’ll want a copy of that picture.” From the look on Aiden’s face, it looked like he’d just offered him Disney World.

  “I’ll tell them.” He rushed off and Brecker chuckled.

  He turned to Siobhan only to find her watching him with a small smile on her lips. “What?”

  “Are you the only one who doesn’t see it?” she asked in a wry tone. “That kid adores you and you adore him. Do I need to show you what two plus two means?”

  Uncomfortable, he shrugged. “Not talking about that.”

  Familiar with his moods, she changed the subject. “I wonder where Jonathon is.”

  They walked around the downstairs, trying to make sure and not get in the way of any of the photoshoots, but couldn’t find him. When they reached the kitchen, Brecker was glad to see Rolf. “Hey, where’s our fearless leader?” he teased. He saw Rolf’s expression and the joy of the holiday crashed. “What happened?”

  Rolf was gripping the countertop and while his face was stiff, it was the pain in his eyes that told him something was really wrong. “He’s in his rooms. He won’t come out. Maybe… maybe you can assure him this wasn’t his fault. Because he’s blaming himself.”

  “About what?” Brecker asked, leaning forward and lowering his voice.

  “He just found out his father died and he wasn’t there when it happened.”

  Brecker stood up and closed his eyes. Yes, Jonathon would blame himself. It wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t save everyone. But he thought he could.

  “He wants it kept quiet until after Christmas so the kids can have a joyous day. But I don’t know if he’s going to hold up, Brecker. He’s been doing okay since the shooting and he’s been seeing Tanner along with the kids, but this is one stress too much.” Rolf shook his head.

  Brecker reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll try. Where’s his room?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jonathon stared out the window. In front of him was a scene he’d loved ever since he first saw it. A wide expanse of ground, currently bathed in white, and tall trees just a hundred feet away. But he saw none of it. All he saw were the words written on the card.

  Your dad died four months ago. Why didn’t you come to the funeral?

  A sob tried to burst through his throat but he fought it down. He knew his mother wasn’t trying to be hurtful on purpose. But she was the only one who would have told him and she didn’t. No call. No letter. Nothing. Until her scheduled card sending came up.

  A soft knock on his doorway had him standing straight up and clearing his throat. “I’ll be out in a bit, Rolf.”

  “It’s not Rolf.”

  Surprised, he turned and looked at Brecker as he stepped in the room and closed the door softly behind him. Compassion was on his face and Jonathon sighed. “Rolf told you.”

  “He said you were having a bit of a rough time.”

  That was an understatement. Rolf had been there the day Jonathon came back from telling his folks. He knew everything and just how this would affect him.

  “My dad died,” he said in a husky voice.

  “Were you close?” Brecker asked in a gentle voice as he reached him.

  “No. We weren’t enemies, but my parents had a hard time with the fact I’m gay.” He closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the shock on their faces the day he told them. “Their preacher told them it was evil and of the devil and yet their son was gay and a man of God. They tried but could never quite come to peace with the idea. I wrote them monthly but only heard from them on my birthday or at Christmas.”

  Brecker put a hand on his arm and gently moved him over to the end of the bed. “Sit down, Jonathon. You look like you’re practically ready to fall down.”

  With a sob of a laugh, Jonathon sat and leaned his elbows on his knees. “Ever since we started on the house four years ago, I kept saying ‘As soon as I have a few days, I need to go visit my folks.’ But there always seemed something to do. Money to raise and building to do and taking care of these kids.” His voice broke and he took a couple seconds to breathe. “Mom and Dad sold the farm when they knew I wasn’t going to come home and run it. They moved into a retirement condo a decade ago. Dad’s been gone for four months. Four months,” he said, anguish coming out in his voice.

  “I’m guessing nobody saw fit to tell you,” Brecker said with a sigh and sat down next to him.

  “Everyone else in the family wrote me off as a sinner. Only Mom and Dad kept contact. And usually it was Dad.” His eyes stinging, he buried his face in his palms. “Why didn’t I go see him, Brecker? Why?” Unable to hold them back, a sob broke through. Brecker put an arm around his shoulders and he grasped onto the comfort and cried on his shoulder.

  Brecker rubbed his shoulders and back as he cried. He never shushed him or tried to get him to man up, which he appreciated. “Your parents went to church regularly?” he asked once Jonathon calmed down a little.

  “Every Sunday. They loved God.” Or more the limited God their preacher convinced them of.

  “Then I think your father would understand,” Brecker mused. “He had to know how hard your job was. They knew of the shelter?”

  “Oh yes. My letters were full of information.” He hiccupped. “At least he knew it was finished before he died. I hope he’s at least proud of that.” Growing up, that was all Jonathon wanted. For his dad to be proud of him. That being himself had put a wedge in that goal had always been a hard thing to swallow.

  For a long while, they sat in silence with Jonathon leaned against Brecker’s chest. It was the most comfort he’d allowed himself in a long time.

  “Tell me about your dad,” Brecker said. “The man you knew before you came out to them.”

  Nobody had asked that before.

  Considering it, Jonathon drew back and leaned on his knees again. “Dad was a good man. A hard working man. He inherited the farm from his father and worked the land since he was a tot. He also had a great sense of humor. When I was a kid, he understood me. Or at least I thought he did. When I would do something very… boyish and annoy Mom, he’d just say ‘Leave him alone, Cami. He’s just being a boy.’”

  Like the time he figured he could walk the fence poles. A chuckle came out of nowhere and made him smile. “One day I was walking the top pole of one of our fences. I slipped and fell and cracked my tailbone. Mom went ballistic. She read me the riot act for days. Dad came in one night after she left me alone and sat down. He didn’t
lecture me or remind me to watch out. Instead, he winked and said, ‘Practice landing better.’”

  Brecker snorted and Jonathon grinned. “Yeah. When I was in trouble, I wasn’t allowed any goodies. Mom always made me pay for things much longer than Dad ever would. They caught me coming in late one night in my teens. I went out with friends and was the designated driver. Mom grounded me for two weeks. Two days into the grounding, Dad started sneaking in cookies and muffins on the sly. He was a good man.” His voice cracked and more tears trickled down his cheeks. “I never got to say goodbye.” That ache was killing him. “I don’t know what he died of, how he died, or anything. All Mom wrote was ‘Your dad died four months ago. Why didn’t you come to the funeral?’”

  “Ouch,” Brecker said. “How would you have known?”

  “I wouldn’t. And she has to know that.” He pushed his hair back and groaned. “Actually, no she doesn’t. Mom struggled a lot more openly with my being gay and a man of God. A couple times in the past she tried to catch me by saying something she was sure the Lord would have told me if I was truly in His service. I don’t know if she thinks I delude myself or if she thinks I’m running some sort of racket.”

  Brecker put an arm around him again. “Look. You’re probably not ready to hear this. But your mother is wrong.” Jonathon startled at the vehemence in his voice and turned to look at him. Stern green eyes blazed at him. “You’re a man of God, Jonathon. I felt it the first day I saw this place. There’s so much love in you that sometimes it feels like standing next to the sun. And what you’ve done for these kids? It’s nothing short of a miracle. If she refuses to see that, she’s missing out on an amazing man. I feel sorry for her because she has closed herself off from being near you.

  “You,” he repeated, placing a hand on Jonathon’s chest, “are one of the most amazing men I’ve ever met. I don’t know if you’re even aware of the power you yield. In fact, I’m pretty sure you aren’t.”

  “I’m not powerful,” Jonathon said with a shake of his head. “The Lord is and He acts through me.”

  “Which makes you a very powerful man,” Brecker reiterated. “It’s good you look at it that way. Because I doubt you’ll ever abuse it. You aren’t after the power. All you want to do is share the love you feel and believe me, everyone who meets you feels it. If she can’t, then she’s blocked herself to it and never will. Which means she can’t feel that kind of love and it probably terrifies her.”

  Jonathon, well versed in psychology, picked up the thread easily. “And if you meet someone who scares you because they’re outside of your insecure belief system, you do your best to drag them down to your level so they don’t shake your world. I know. I’ve been through this before with Rolf,” he said with a snort. “For two years, I’d find notes in my pants, in my shaving kit, in my bed, and they all said the same thing. The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.”

  He looked up at the framed calligraphy on the opposite wall. “My dad sent me that for my birthday last year. My final gift from him. I always loved Psalms. I knew them by heart by the time I was ten. But the Twenty-Third Psalm has always been my favorite.”

  Brecker stared at it with him. “I think your dad knew,” he murmured. “Or at least understood where you were coming from. If your mom was so against it, he might not have been able to come out and say it. But from what you’ve said, he’s been the one who has kept in touch for the most part, right?”

  “Yeah. This card is the first thing I’ve gotten from Mom in years.”

  “He might not have said anything,” Brecker said, “but he was still the dad you knew. The father who snuck goodies into you when you were grounded. He couldn’t say much then, but his deeds showed you how much he loved you. I think that gift shows how much he still loved you and knew you were doing the right thing.” He squeezed Jonathon’s shoulder and Jonathon sniffled. He hoped Brecker was right. “The man who understood you and knew you, would not expect you to leave the Lord’s children to attend his funeral, especially when you didn’t know he died. Now that he’s without a human body to keep him tied to human thought, don’t you think he fully understands you?” he pressed. “That he knows with absolute surety that you are the Lord’s man. I bet he’s so proud of you he could burst.”

  In that moment, love the Lord had probably been trying to send him, but he’d blocked because of his pain, filled the room. It surrounded him and filled him up and as he burst into tears, he knew Brecker was right. Because along with the still small voice which whispered, You are Mine and I love you, was another voice he knew as well as his own. That of his father.

  “You’ve done good, son. Keep it up.”

  It felt like the entire room lit up with so much love it was hard to grasp. It filled every crevice and atom and he bathed in it. When the love settled a little and he opened his eyes, he saw tears on Brecker’s cheeks as well. “You okay?” he asked, his voice husky.

  Brecker turned to him, his eyes wide. “Do you feel that every day?”

  With a soft laugh, Jonathon shook his head. “I feel the Lord’s love almost constantly and sometimes wonderfully strong. But that was the same as when Rolf took me to the school chapel that one day. It’s so inhumanly powerful and so full. There’s no judgment or condescension in it. The Lord is love, Brecker. You’ve just felt it in its wonderful fullness. Or as full as we can take. I’ve always thought our human bodies probably cannot handle the full thing. When we join Him in spirit form, the love has to be….” He shook his head. “There are no words in our language to explain how wonderful it must be to stand in His presence and feel His love.”

  Brecker opened his mouth as if to speak and then shut it again. They sat in peaceful silence for some time before a knock came at the door. “Come in,” Jonathon said.

  Rolf opened the door and walked in, two mugs on a tray along with some food. “Thought you could use some sustenance.” He glanced between the two of them and raised an eyebrow. “Having spiritual moments in here?”

  Jonathon chuckled and nodded. “Yes we are. Thanks.” He picked up the mug and hummed as the hot spiced cider slid over his tongue. “How are the kids doing?”

  “Good. The shoots are done and the photographers are printing out the shots the kids like most now. Lunch is almost ready and I’m sure they would love seeing Reverend Jonathon. They’re getting kind of worried.”

  More warmth slid through him and Jonathon nodded. “Let me get cleaned up and I’ll join you. It’s a celebration day.” He stood up and Rolf reached out and grasped his shoulder.

  “You okay?”

  “I am. Brecker helped me break through my sorrow to where the Lord came in and filled me up. I’m good.” He let Rolf look into his eyes to assure him that he was okay.

  Relief filled his best friend’s face and he glanced over at Brecker. “You’re a good man to have around. Want to help me finish getting lunch ready while Jonathon dolls himself up?”

  Brecker chuckled while Jonathon rolled his eyes. “Get going,” he teased as he took his mug with him to the bathroom. “I’ll be out in a few.”

  Christmas Day dawned bright and sunny, though there were two new inches of snow on the ground. The kids were in high spirits. Their photos from the previous day’s shoot were hung up on the walls and by their beds. Each one was so incredibly beautiful, but many of them hadn’t seen it until then. They stood taller and the smiles on their faces told him that they saw their beauty finally.

  Breakfast was a noisy affair and Rolf
pulled out all the stops with Belgian waffles and whipped cream. The gift giving was a bit more sedate as they got the gifts from the gift drive the night before. That day it was all about what they were giving each other and while there weren’t a lot of presents, each one had been lovingly made and he smiled as each child opened their gift. He got a card with small notes written by each of the youth and it was something he would treasure forever. They sang, they hugged one another, and by mid-morning, the kids were all bundled up to go have a massive snowball fight in the yard.

  “Is everything ready?” Jonathon asked after they were all out.

  Rolf looked up and grinned. “Of course it is. Want to see the cake?”

  He followed Rolf into the butler’s pantry and in the corner was a large, four-layer strawberry cake. “He loves strawberries,” Rolf said. “So lunch is all about them.”

  “What are we having?” Jonathon asked.

  “Strawberry tarts, strawberry glazed chicken, and strawberry-kiwi lemonade.”

  Amused, Jonathon nodded. “I’ve been so busy with things. I know you’ve picked up this slack. How did the gift making go for it?”

  “They’ve been working on it for two weeks. I asked the kids to think about what it must be like to share a birthday with the savior and to be celebrating it with him. They asked if I had a camera they could borrow. I let them be and do their thing. And since we got custody, Aiden’s been standing taller. He seemed a little washed out this morning, but that might have to do with how excited they were yesterday. But whatever they’ve got planned, it’s all about Aiden.”

  And it was.

  “Come on,” Peril said with a laugh and dragged Aiden to sit at the head of the table. “Birthday boys sit here.” It was a small thing they did for each of the kids on their birthday and Jonathon liked that it was now a tradition he didn’t have to orchestrate.

  “I hear someone’s got a birthday,” Rolf said as he walked into the dining hall with huge platters in his hands. “And that someone likes strawberries.”