Date: Tue, 04 Feb 2003 14:47:13 -0500 From: bccccand@netscape.net Subject: Metropolitan Romance-1 Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to real people or events is coincidental. It contains descriptions of sex between adult men. If you are offended by this type of material, or if you are forbidden by law to read it, please exit the story now. E-mail comments are gratefully accepted. Metropolitan Romance Prologue As I stood in the pulpit looking out over an empty sanctuary, I began to reflect on all the changes that had happened in the last year. Who could have foreseen my becoming the pastor of the Metropolitan Community Church I had now agreed to serve. So many losses and so much pain left me unsure as to whether I even wanted to go on with life. A year ago, I was married with two growing sons and a career as a minister in a mainstream denomination. But a drunk driver took all that away from me. My only consolation was that death had been quick and my family hadn't suffered. I suffered in my grief, not knowing what to do next. Well meaning friends tried to help, but there was little consolation. I could not find the heart to continue with my ministry. If I was going to move forward, the only way was to make radical changes in my life. Then one day, fate stepped in. While reading one of many previously unopened newspapers, I saw an announcement that the Metropolitan Church needed a pastor. One of the facts about myself that very few people knew was that I am at least bi-sexual. From an early age I was aware that I was attracted to other guys. Maybe if I had grown up in this more "informed" age I would have found the courage to act on what was an obvious attraction to me. But I kept my secret thoughts and desires well hidden, brought out only for my masturbatory fantasies. I found myself picking out guys that interested me, but I never got up the nerve to do anything about it. Except for one time. I screwed up the courage to approach a friend who had become the object of my lust. I knew that I loved him and that I was probably in love with him. I was concerned that if I told him, it might ruin our friendship. Finally, I could hold it in no longer. My friend compassionately listened and even accepted my sexuality without reproach. He was unfortunately very straight. Had he been interested or perhaps even curious, my life might have taken quite a different path. While I was unlucky in love when it came to other guys, I found that I did have an attraction to girls as well. And since that track was easier to follow, I found myself pursuing a life that, while meaningful in its own way, left me wondering what could have been. When I consider Frost's poem, "The Road Less Traveled," I can't help but muse what life would have been like had I taken the other "road." Now my life had been derailed. I didn't feel like I was on any "road" at all. Applying for the position at a church that ministered directly to gays and lesbians didn't necessarily guarantee a whole new direction, but it did feel more honest somehow. I was sure that many of my friends wouldn't understand, but I also felt like I had nothing to lose. So I applied, and was a little shocked when I got the job. Here I stood getting ready to start a whole new life. I could only wonder where this "road" would take me. Chapter 1 Sitting at my desk, reflecting on yesterday's entry into a new church, I was reminded that wherever there are people, there would always be politics. Although the people clamoring for my attention had a different lifestyle, there were the same power plays and jockeying for prominence that is found anywhere. It was a fact that should be obvious. The only real difference between the people of this congregation and those of other congregations I had served is that these people most often were not welcome in those congregations. The intercom feature of my phone broke my Monday morning reverie. My secretary, a trans-gendered individual, who today had shown up in meticulously tailored suit and pumps, shook me out of my contemplations with a bit too shrill voice. "Rev. Williams, there's a Carol Langley on line one." "Loren, please call me Steve. I want us to be informal in the office," I pleaded. "Whatever you say Rev. Williams. This person is insistent that she talk to you," Loren petulantly responded. All right, so I'll fight that battle another time. "This is Steve Williams. How may I help you?" "Oh Rev. Williams, I hope you can help. It's about my brother Eric. He's a science teacher at Sommerset and he's in terrible trouble." Her voice sounded desperate. Sommerset was a suburban school district where all those parents hoping to avoid minorities had fled to recreate the white America they remembered when they were in school. "Carol, . Is that your name again?" "Yes. I'm sorry. My name is Carol Langley. I'm calling for my brother, Eric Andrews. And he really does need your help." "How may I be of help?" "My brother is gay. That's why I'm calling you. As I said, he's a teacher and a very good one. He has always been well regarded and his students love him." "So what is the problem, Carol?" "The school board has learned that he is gay. I think the parents of a student who was failing Eric's class found out about his sexuality and they are making a fuss with the school board to try and get him fired." "Surely in this day and age a teacher can't be fired for being gay." "I don't know what they have planned, but the school board is going to discuss Eric's situation at tonight's meeting." "What exactly do you want me to do, Carol?" "I was hoping that you would speak to the board, as sort of an advocate or something. You know, why a teacher's sexuality should not be an issue. Would you do that for me, for Eric? Please!" "I'm not exactly sure what my voice will add, but I am willing to try. Where and when is the meeting being held," I asked, wondering what I was getting into now. "It's at the Town Hall at 8:00 tonight. Oh thank you, thank you Rev. Williams." "I'm not making any promises. I don't really have any clout with the Sommerset School Board. But your brother should have some support. Will you be there?" "Yes, I'll be there. See you tonight. And thank you again." "You're welcome. See you tonight." I hung up the phone and immediately speculated on what I'd agreed to do. I'd only been in this job two days. I was hardly an expert in these cases. "Loren, I need to speak with you." My secretary fortunately knew our congregation a little better than I, so Loren directed me to a lawyer sympathetic to the cause. He told me that although they could not fire a teacher solely on the grounds of his sexuality, there were all kinds of ways around that, some of which are even legal. What they would want to avoid is a lot of negative publicity about their school. Someone in my position might be a potential public relations threat they would want to mollify. So, armed with limited knowledge and even less experience in these things, I found myself at the Sommerset School Board meeting that very night. "Will the meeting please come to order," barked a middle- aged woman slightly overdressed for the proceedings. And the circus was on. Not that I was surprised by the homophobic ranting and railing, but at the pure absence of any enlightenment at all. There were a few students who bravely spoke, in obvious defiance of their parents' wishes. I could tell by the way the students looked at one man in particular, that he must be Eric Andrews, the teacher about whom this meeting was being held. He struck me as a rather typical teacher. Looked like he could use more sun. But maybe he was just pale because of what's transpiring. He appeared to be in his early thirties. He was definitely an intelligent looking guy and undeniably attractive. His blond hair was cut conservatively, and his angular, expressive face was set off by two of the biggest, saddest eyes I had ever seen. It was hard to determine his physique since he was sitting down and wearing that tweed coat. I realized that I had been staring at him for too long and hoped no one had noticed. I finally decided that if my presence was going to have any significance, it was time to speak. "Madame President, if I may address the board." "And who are you and what is your purpose in being here tonight?" "I am Rev. Steve Williams of the Metropolitan Community Church. I am here because a teacher is being maligned for something that has nothing to do with his qualifications for being a teacher. With the exception of his students' affirmations, I have heard nothing of any substance mentioned about his ability to teach. Are his students' test scores below par? Is he unable to relate with other teachers? Have their been any negative evaluations or reprimands placed in his file? Surely there have been no charges filed against this man. And yet you speak as if you don't understand that you are on the verge of losing one of the most important assets of any school - a dedicated teacher. The fact that he doesn't walk out of this room and away from this environment says to me that he has more commitment to his students than most of the people who are only concerned about a particular person's private life. I have been a minister for over twenty years. One thing I have learned is that if my values won't stand on their own - if they have to be legislated or forced down someone's throat - then I need to take a closer look at those values, or at least at how I am expressing them. I believe our children are in need of guidance when it comes to sex. But I have heard nothing here tonight that will address teen promiscuity, unwanted pregnancies or std's. A science teacher who has the respect of his students is a tool you should be using to fight these problems. Instead you fight with the teacher over something that he has held as private and personal. Whatever action you take tonight will most definitely send a signal about values. I hope it will be about values that really mean something to the future of these young people. Thank you for your attention." Now as a preacher I was used to talking without any immediate response. The room was however deathly still. I had no idea whether I had helped the cause or made a bunch of pseudo rednecks angry. Not another person rose to speak. Finally the president called for a vote. I wasn't sure what exactly they were voting on and I'm not convinced they did either. The vote ended up being five to three, and from the cheers from the students and the relieved look on the science teacher's face, it was obviously in his favor. "Rev. William, Rev. Williams," a woman's voice called over the crowd. The woman who had been sitting next to the science teacher started walking toward me. She had to be his sister Carol. "I am ever so glad you could come. I'm sure you made the difference. How can I ever thank you?" She shook my hand like she was pumping an old-fashioned well. "I hope that the board would have been smart enough to have made the right decision anyway. But I'm glad to have been here for you and your brother." "Please come over here. I want you to meet Eric." She dragged me across the room to where some rather boisterous students were congratulating what was obviously a well-liked teacher. "Eric, this is the minister I was telling you about. I told you he would come. Rev. Williams, this is my brother, Eric Andrews. Eric, this is Rev. Williams." "Steve. Please call me Steve" I stretched out my hand and he grasped it. "Thank you for coming Steve. I've never even been to your church. I do appreciate what you did here tonight." I began to realize that I hadn't let go of his hand yet. My eyes seem locked with his. Awkwardly I took back my hand and began stammering some kind of diversion. "That's all right Eric. Glad that I could be of help. Your sister called and seemed quite upset. I figured my coming tonight was the least I could do." Surely no one noticed how flustered I'd become. What was happening to me? I'd found other guys attractive before without making a fool out of myself. Why now? I wasn't some lovesick teenager. I was forty-seven. Maybe I wasn't really ready to go down this road after all. I didn't even know this man and already I could see him figuring into my fantasies. I had to get a grip. I'm too old for him anyway. I was painfully aware how important age was in this equation, and I was quickly becoming an old man in most circles. Add to that, I never considered myself attractive. A kind heart and a winning personality might take me far as a minister, but they didn't do much for me when it came to catching another man's eye. No. Impressing a man on first sight was not going to be my strength. I don't know how long I had been obsessing over all this when I was finally dragged back to the present. "What," I sheepishly replied. "I said, we are all going to get a cup of coffee. Would you like to come with us," Eric asked? "Sure. I'd be glad to." So we all took off to a nearby diner. Eric and his sister Carol were there as well as several people who appeared to be colleagues that I hadn't noticed at the meeting. Spirits were high and Eric seemed much more relaxed. There was real warmth between him and the people gathered. I silently wondered why none of these friends had spoken up at the meeting. As if in response to my unasked question I overheard- "You know we would have said something tonight if we thought it would have done any good," one younger woman stated. "I understand," Eric replied. Eric was letting them off the hook. That's his business I guess, but it did seem that some of this support they were giving him now would have been nice when it really was needed. But there I go again - being judgmental. It really was none of my business anyhow. I played the role I was asked to play and I certainly didn't regret it. So why did it matter. I must have spaced out again because I suddenly realized that Eric was speaking to me. "Do you do that often? Go off in your own world I mean." "Oh, it is a bad habit I seem to have. I guess I get lost in my own thoughts some times" Was I blushing? Surely not at my age. Why was I reacting like this? "I know how that is. My friends are always telling me I get wrapped up inside my head from time to time. I really do want to thank you for coming tonight. I'd been warned that the board was actually stacked against me five to three. You must have changed a couple of people's minds." "I can't take credit for that. Your students were surprisingly articulate. I was very impressed." "I would like to believe that the board really listened to the students, but I know better. No. You were what made it happen. I don't know whether you appealed to their reason or if they were afraid that you were the kind of person who could make a big stink about this issue. You got their attention somehow. I sincerely thank you. Is there some way I can show my appreciation?" "Uh-" It was amazing that I make my living through public speaking. On the other hand, you never have to wonder when speaking to a hundred people, if someone just came on to you. "I mean I cook a pretty mean lasagna if you would be interested in dinner sometime." OK, that seemed pretty direct. "Yes, that would be great," I finally muttered out. "I imagine Saturday nights aren't good for you, what with Sunday mornings and all. Would a Friday night work out? "Ah, yes. Friday nights are great for me. I'd love to" Did I say "love?" It must be very obvious I don't get out much. Besides, he merely wants to say thanks. He probably feels he owes me something, since he's not a member of my church and all. Don't go getting your hopes up Steve. You're a novice in this game. Don't make a fool out of yourself so soon. "Would this Friday be open? I don't like putting things off if I don't have to." Oh my God. This Friday? What do I say? Do I have anything planned for this Friday? Do I care? Oh god help me! "This Friday sound great. What time and where do you live? I somehow registered the time and place even though my heart was in my throat. I really am too old for this. I haven't been on a date since I was twenty. I made it home and then through the week, although I remembered very little of it. Everything was a blur, as I could only seem to concentrate on my upcoming dinner date. No. It wasn't really a date; it was just a thank you dinner. Then why was I worried about what to wear? On the drive to Eric's house I considered turning around and going home at least three times. Somehow I found the courage to actually pull up in front of his house. It was an old Victorian with all the carved trimming and a front porch that went half way around the house. The yard was carefully groomed. This man takes good care of the place. I wondered how much he had to pay for something like this. It's in an old neighborhood, but all the houses seemed to be in good condition. What am I now, a real estate agent? Or am I only stalling? Well, here goes nothing. As I walked up the steps, Eric met me at the door. Could he be as nervous as I am? Certainly not. I'm sure he's had a lot more experience at this than I have. He couldn't have any less. "Steve, you're right on time. Did you have any trouble finding the place?" "No, your directions were perfect. Besides I grew up in this town, so I pretty well know my way around. I haven't ever been in this neighborhood as far as I can remember." "I enjoy the area. Most people stay primarily to themselves. Every once in a while, somebody will make homemade ice cream in the summer, and we'll all gather round. All in all, a good group of neighbors." "I used to make a lot of homemade ice cream. It's actually one of my specialties." "Next time the neighbors get together I'll have to call you so you can whip up a freezer full." Did he say next time? Oh God, tell me that means he might like to have a relationship. Don't get ahead of yourself, Steve. This is just dinner. Don't force anything. Let whatever happens, happen. "Come on in. Dinner is about ready. I could take you on a tour of the house if you're interested." "Most definitely. I love old houses. My wife and I used to watch HGTV all the time." Did I already mention my wife? I hadn't been there five minutes. Maybe I'm not cut out for this kind of thing. "I really like some of the episode of `This Old House.' Give me a man with power tools." Whew. He rescued me out of that one. I wonder what kind of "power tools" he means? "Did you buy the house like this, or have you had to do much work on it? "Oh no, it was a broken down eyesore when I bought it. My brother-in-law said I was crazy to take on a project like this. But it's been a labor of love. I've worked on it now for ten years this summer. I think the neighbors were so grateful to have somebody fixing up the place that they didn't mind having a queer on the block. All the women wanted to help me decorate and some of the men have even pitched in and helped on some of the bigger projects. Reshingling that steep roof was a real bitch. Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to swear." "Trust me, that's not a problem. My sons used to rib me about my foul mouth all the time." Shit! First I mentioned my wife and now I mention the boys. Why don't I sabotage this thing from the beginning? "I get kind of carried away talking about the house. It's been a real passion of mine for quite awhile now." "It's something to be proud of, that's for sure." After a definitely a shaky start, the tour began. The house was truly a work of art. This man certainly knew what he was doing. The craftsmanship and the details were incredible. The woodwork alone must have been a Herculean task. "I don't suppose the woodwork came finished." "There had to have been at least eight coats of paint on every piece of wood. I had to find someone to do millwork, because much of the banister was missing." "Did you refinish the hardwood floors yourself?" "Yea. I became quite adept with a drum sander before all three stories were done." "You even refinished the third floor?" "My sister claims I'm compulsive about things like that. I can't let something go undone." The tour proved that the interior of the house was more impressive than the exterior. This place ought to be written up in a magazine or something. There was a huge living room or parlor, an enormous dining room, a large kitchen that had been modernized with all the conveniences, a downstairs half- bath and a room that went across the whole back of the house that was being used as a family room. The living room and dining room both had large brick fireplaces with carved mantles. A curving staircase led upstairs to four very large bedrooms. The master bedroom had a bathroom/dressing room suite. Another staircase led up to a third floor ballroom complete with bar. "Do you do a lot of entertaining? This house could be party central." "I've been so busy remodeling I haven't had time to do much socializing. It's been kind of a all-consuming project." "I can imagine it has. This is absolutely incredible." The tour ended with us back in the kitchen. He seemed to have everything under control. This was one organized man. I started to feel awkward again, not knowing quite what to say. "Is there anything I can do to help? "You could pour the drinks. I have water, iced tea, or there is wine if you do that sort of thing." "Oh wine, most definitely." He directed me to a wine rack where I picked out a merlot that looked familiar. The corkscrew was right at hand, of course. I was pouring two glasses of wine when he started bringing out the food. He'd even prepared an antipasto plate. The food was delicious, not surprisingly. I wondered if there is anything this man didn't do well? Conversation through dinner became smoother as we found that we had similar tastes in music and literature. We even touched on politics without getting in trouble. I eventually realized that we had been talking and eating for over two hours. I can't remember when I had had a more enjoyable meal. He refused to let me help with clearing the dishes. Said his mother always contended that company was to be enjoyed, not worked. As the evening drew to a close I frantically realized that I hadn't thought through an exit plan. How do you end an evening like this? What are his expectations now? So far it hadn't mattered whether or not it was a date or just dinner. But now- Damn! Do I offer to reciprocate the dinner? Do you kiss on the first date? Part of me wanted to wave goodbye and make a mad dash out the door. Another part of me wanted to drag him to the floor and get naked. Eric fortunately picked up the slack. "I'm very glad you were able to come tonight. I am extremely grateful for your help with the school board. A friend of mine who is in on all the scoop was convinced that the decision to fire me one way or another had already been made. I do believe you were responsible for stemming the tide. I suppose I could have found another teaching position somewhere else, but I enjoy teaching these kids." "There was absolutely no reason for you to have to go anywhere else. But I'm sure I can't take that much credit." "My friend in the know thinks they were afraid of you because you have a lengthy history in `traditional' religion." "What they don't know is that I have never been `traditional.' When people got to know me, they would often say, `I can't believe you are a minister.'" We both chuckled over that and then found ourselves once again in an uneasy silence. I knew I had to do something, even if I made a fool out of myself. I was not going to look back on tonight like I had on so many other times in my life, and regret what I didn't do. "I would like to see you again. Would you be interested in getting together? You wouldn't have to cook." "Yes, I would like to do that." "How about we go out to eat and then to a movie. I'm kind of a movie freak and would be up to seeing about anything." "That sounds good to me." "I have next Friday open. Would that work for you? I could call you later in the week. "Next Friday sounds fine." I stood there wondering whether I should kiss him, hug him or shake his hand. Once again he filled the void by grasping my hand with both of his and thanking me for my support. I finally backed out the door and out to my car. As I drove away, I discovered that I had been hardly breathing; I was so tense. Shit. What do I do now? I didn't have to worry about a lot of time on my hands to sit around and fret. Things at the church really started hopping. The sponsors for the Monday night PFLAG group quit. Seems they were mad about something. I'd have to work things out with them later. One young man struggling with AIDS went back into the hospital. A distraught teenage boy came to my office. His parents kicked him out of the house when he came out to them. Through all of this, Loren proved a lifesaver at keeping me focused on the problems at hand. At first I thought Loren didn't like me. There was definitely a group in the church who didn't trust the new "bisexual" minister. I realize playing for both teams hinders feelings of loyalty. However, I didn't choose how I am any more than anyone else did. Loren seemed to be warming up to me, though. I was definitely grateful, because Loren was quickly becoming indispensable. Finally, it was Thursday, and I knew I needed to call Eric. Of course I wanted to talk to him, but I couldn't get rid of the nagging fear that I was setting myself up for a big rejection. Being thankful for my help with the school board was a lot different from wanting to explore a relationship. I realized that I had already gotten my hopes up that something would work out between us-maybe even something special. Oh God, how do I get myself into these things. ********** He stopped grading papers to answer the phone, irritated at the interruption. "Hello, this is Eric." "Hey brother, how's it going?" "Hey, sis. I was trying to get caught up on my grading. All that hassle with the school board put me behind schedule." "You are so anal. I bet grades aren't due for a long time." "Ha, ha, ha. Just because I like getting things done in a timely manner." "Speaking of a timely matter, have you talked with that nice minister?" "You mean Steve? No. I haven't. Not that it's any of your business." "Somebody has to watch out for you or you'll stay cooped up in that house grading papers all your life." "I know, sis. He is a nice guy, but I don't know if I'm ready for a relationship right now. I enjoy my teaching and my house. I don't know if I want any complications at the present." "Those `complications' are what life is all about. Can you honestly tell me you don't want a relationship?" "It's not that easy. The rules for gay relationships aren't the same." "Eric, I don't pretend to understand what you go through. But I don't want to see you unhappy." "I know, sis, and I appreciate your concern." "I love you. You know that don't you?" "Yes, I know that. And I love you too, Carol. But I have to take these things at my own speed." "Just as long as you realize that standing still isn't a speed." "OK, OK. I get the point. How's my favorite nephew doing?" "Nice change of subject. Jared is doing fine. He's going out for track. He's going to run the low hurdles." "Just like his dad." "Paul ran the hurdles in high school and college." "Jared's a chip off the old block, isn't he?" "I worry sometimes that he tries too hard to impress his father. Neither one of them listens to me. Just like you. Men! Sometimes I wish I wasn't surrounded by men." "Don't give me that. You love it. You wouldn't have it any other way." "I keep hoping Jared will bring home some nice girl that might possibly side with me once in a while." "I thought he was dating a cheerleader." "They broke up. Nothing ever gets very serious with him." "Sis, he's just playing the field. He'll be fine." "I know. A mother worries, that's all." "Well this teacher needs to get back to work." "I'll talk to you later, Eric." He no longer got back to grading tests when the phone rang again. "Yes," he said with some irritation. "Hello. Is this Eric?" "Yes." "Ah, this is Steve, Steve Williams, the minister." "Oh, hi Steve." "If this is a bad time to call, I can call back later." "No, No. I'm in the middle of grading tests. My sister called a few minutes ago. I thought it was her again, razzing me about something else." "Sibling pestering never actually goes away, does it?" "We're actually pretty close. It does give her the feeling she can nose into my personal life when ever she wants to, however." "Well - we had talked about possibly getting together, but if this weekend is bad -" "No. I do need a break, I suppose. What did you have in mind?" "I wondered if you would be interested in maybe going to a movie tomorrow. Perhaps we could get something to eat before or after the show?" "Sure, that sounds great. Did you have a particular movie in mind?" "Have you seen `Freida?' Several of the people here at church recommend it." "I haven't seen it. In fact I haven't seen many movies lately. Sounds good to me." "We could either go to an earlier show and get something to eat after, or the other way around." "If it doesn't matter to you, I would rather eat after. Then we don't have to rush or worry about being late to the show." "You like being places on time, don't you?" "My sister says I'm anal. In fact she just said that a few minutes ago." "Nothing wrong in being punctual. The first show is at 7:00. How about I pick you up at 6:15?" "Sounds great. See you then." I certainly hope this works. Eric seems like such a nice guy. I wonder how `anal' he really is? Good grief, Steve. Don't get ahead of yourself or anything. You have no idea if he is even slightly attracted to you. You are older than him. I hate it when I talk to myself like this. Especially when I seem to be losing the argument. Oh well. Tomorrow will tell me more about what Eric might be interested in pursuing. I wish I didn't have such high expectations. What can I say? Fools never learn. ********** Friday night finally arrived. Did I worry this much about what to wear when I was a teenager? I can't believe I'm this nervous. I wonder what stupid thing I'm going to do tonight. As I drove up to Eric's house, my palms were so sweaty it was a miracle I could steer. He greeted me at the door. "I forgot to ask which theater we were going to." "'Freida' is only showing at the Crown. Of course all the metroplexes are pretty much alike. I kind of miss the big old theaters," I interjected. "I do too. I used to go every Saturday. My friends and I would sneak in our own candy. You had to get there early to sit on the front row." "We used to do that, too. We lived close enough we could walk. We spent a good part of the day getting there, watching the movie and returning home. We would act out whatever the movie was as we walked home." "Kind of a trip down memory lane," Eric grinned as he replied. Shit! Was I making myself look older with all this nostalgia? I don't have a clue what I'm doing. This night already has disaster written all over it. Why is it that the more you want to make a good impression, the goofier you look? If I could just make myself relax. We made it to the theater without another major faux pas. The movie was quite good. The fact that one of the characters was a lesbian couldn't have hurt. But now it was time for dinner. During the movie you don't have to talk. Let's see if my conversation skills and witty repartee would fail me. "I thought Caf^Â Mediterranean would be fun. Does that sound good to you, Eric?" "Sure. I haven't eaten there in quite a while." Hopefully that's not because he doesn't like it and is too polite to tell me. We arrived at the restaurant and both ordered fatouche salads. Remembering that he served wine with dinner, I suggested a bottle for the two of us. Everything seemed to be going smoothly, but I kept asking myself if he was just being nice. We laughed a lot. It didn't feel like nervous laughter. I couldn't help it; I was really getting hooked on this guy. Oh please God, please let him like me. "Steve, the movie and dinner were fantastic. I've had a wonderful evening." Does that mean he wants the evening to end? I have no idea how to take the next step. I do not want our time together to end yet. Do I dare invite him back to my apartment? Is that too forward. For Christ's sake, Steve, do something before it's too late. "We could have dessert at my apartment. I don't have anything fancy, but I do have some ice cream." He has to think about it. Oh my God I've done it now. I've ruined everything by being impatient. Why couldn't I have kept my cool? "Sure, that sounds good." Did he just say yes? Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you. We got back to my apartment, which I had thought to clean, just in case. I served us bowls of cookie dough ice cream and we sat on the couch. I felt so comfortable with him. It would be so great if he felt somewhat the same. "Eric, I've had a wonderful time tonight. I enjoy your company." Should I go on? Tell him I'm interested in pursuing more? If I don't do it, I'll kick myself again. "Eric, I like you. I want to be upfront and tell you that I think we might be able to have a relationship and I would like to explore that possibility. But I don't know if you are really interested or not. I haven't asked anybody out in a long, long time, so I don't know if I'm doing it right. Are you at all interested in going out with me?" The whole time I'd been talking, Eric had been intensely examining his shoes. My statement was followed by a long pause. This doesn't look good. I can't get up and run out the door because it's my apartment. Oh please, Eric, just answer. "Steve --- Steve, I don't know what to say. I have enjoyed this evening. You are fun to be around. But I don't know about a relationship." "It's all right, Eric, I shouldn't have pressed. There was no reason for me to assume that you were interested in anything like that." "About the school board meeting - I am grateful for what you did." "Look, Eric, about that. I was glad to be at the meeting and I'm happy if my presence in some way helped. But you don't owe me anything. I would do that for any brother in trouble. You didn't deserve that harassment. Let's just leave it at that. I've appreciated getting to know you." At this point, neither one of us quite knew what to say. After an awkward silence, I decided enough was enough. "Eric, thanks again for this evening. I'll take you home whenever you're ready." "OK" Thus ended my first date that turned out not to be a date after all. We rode to his house in silence, and after a terse goodbye, we went our separate ways. I didn't know whether I felt rejected, embarrassed or disappointed. I did know I didn't feel good. It was unrealistic to think I could hit a home run at my first turn at the plate. Especially when I'd been out of the game for so long. Relationships are difficult. How do we ever come to understand someone else. Maybe that is why so many relationships fail. It is so much work and we lay ourselves on the line, open to so much potential hurt. So he didn't like me that way. Why should he? Just because I felt that way about him? Two people looked each other over and it wasn't going to work. Nothing more. Then why do I feel like I've missed out on something important. Could my feelings be that strong in such a short amount of time? Here I am again, wondering about what could have been. So much of my life, wondering about what could have been. ********** Back in the office next Monday morning, I must have been wearing a sign around my neck, poor miserable wretch. Everyone asked `what's wrong,' a question I avoided like the plague. The last thing I wanted to talk about this morning was my failure in the relationship department. Obviously Loren didn't take the hint and strode into my office. "Rev. Williams, what the hell is going on? Why are you moping around with your tail between your legs?" "Loren, I don't want to talk about it, OK?" "No. It's not OK. Your personal life is your business, but when you come in here like something out of the morgue, you can't expect us to overlook it. So spill it so we can get on with the day." "I'm moved by your sympathy. If you must know, Eric and I went out the other night and he told me he's not interested in a relationship. Satisfied? "You mean the science teacher from Sommerset?" "Yes, the science teacher from Sommerset." "You really liked him, didn't you?" "Yes, I did. Loren. Do you believe in love at first sight?" "Well, I can't say I've had any experience with it. But I do think that there are times when two people click, almost instantaneously." "In this case, only one person clicked. Me. I can't seem to get him out of my mind. I tell myself it's because he's the first person I've thought of in that way when since, - well, you know. But something in my heart won't let it go. I sound like some lovesick school girl who's crushed because the captain of the football team won't go out with me." "Listen, Steve. I'm the last person in the world to be giving advice on love. Hell, I'm not even sure I know what love is. People have been telling me I'm confused for as long as I can remember. But you can't let this get you down. All this self pity isn't healthy." "I don't want to wallow in it, I merely want to swim around in it for awhile. It's not the end of the world. I'm aware of that. It's that I don't like being alone. I'm not very good at it. And I guess I'm a little afraid - afraid that I'm not going to be able to find someone special in my life any time soon. Right now, Loren, I'm afraid of the future." "Steve, your whole life had been turned upside down. You have a right to be afraid. But you said in your sermon yesterday that we don't have to live in fear. Even in the midst of our darkest night, we can still have faith that the morning will come." "Since when did you start listening to my sermons?" "I have a little confession to make. Before you came here, I didn't even attend church. I've never been much of a religious person. The only reason I applied for this job was because I figured it was one place that might tolerate my idiosyncrasies. The first week you were here, I tried to be as flamboyant as I could. And you never even flinched. You didn't smirk when I came in the room. I know what people say about me. But you were never condescending. You also never tried to `fix' me. I have only felt acceptance from you." Loren then began to wipe away the tears threatening to drop. "Loren, I've never tried to fix you because I don't consider you broken. It's my commitment to accept people where they are, because I believe God accepts us for who we are." "Do you actually believe God accepts me?" "I'm sure of it, Loren. As sure of it as I can be. That's what I believe love is all about." "When I was little, my Grams used to say, `God loves you, Loren, and so do I.' After she died, I don't think anyone else has loved me since." "Your grandmother was a wise woman. What do you think she would say to you if she were here with you now?" "I don't know." "Maybe she'd say, `nice pearls.'" "She was always making me laugh." "Loren, I believe she would say, `God loves you and so do I.' I trust that those words are exactly what God wants to say to you, also. Do you remember what your grandmother's voice sounded like?" "Yes." "Then hear her voice telling you again. Hear God using her voice to tell you how wonderful Loren is and how you are loved for being exactly who you are." Loren took a handkerchief to daub at the running eye shadow. "You are good at this, you know. I came in here to cheer you up and instead, you make feel better. Thank you." "Thank you, Loren, for reminding me what is important in this life. Instead of sitting around bemoaning my sex life, or the lack there of, I need to focus on human compassion and understanding. There is too much intolerance out there to fight, for me to dwell on a date that didn't turn out the way I wanted. Let's get to work" "Right on, chief." Comments are appreciated. Email me at bccccand@netscape.net