Page 58 of Smoky Mountain Dreams
Christopher kept his eyes on the TV but he continuedtalking, and Jesse kept hiseyes on Christopherbecause something in his gut was telling him this was important and that heneeded to pay attention now. Christopher couldn’t be invisible—not to him.
“My stepdad…well, he’s a Baptist preacher. So, yeah,sometimes just disappearing off everyone’s radar was a blessing.”
“Was it tough to come out?”
“I feel like I’m still coming out because they don’t see itas me being gay. They see it as me being a sinner. It’s like they don’t evenbelieve me, you know? It’s hard to explain. But it’s like being gay doesn’texist for them, just sin does. And I’m a stubborn sinner.”
“My sister-in-law is like that. Ronnie—Marcy’s older sister.Real Bible thumper. It’s a problem.”
“I’m sorry. Has she always been that way? Or just since yourwife…”
Jesse was warmed by Christopher’s reluctance to mentionMarcy’s accident ever since that first night at the Mexican place. It was sweetthat he didn’t want to hurt him. “It started before, but there’s no doubt thatthe accident exacerbated the problem. It gave her a reason to really dig indeep with what she believes.”
“Grief does troubling things.”
“Grief’s no excuse for acting like a—” Jesse stoppedhimself. “Sorry. Ronnie’s my Achilles heel. Nothing pisses me off more thanher.”
“I hear you. That’s my stepdad for me.” Christopher sighed. “Ican’t do anything right when it comes to him, and finding forgiveness for whathe’s put me through is going to be a tough nut to crack.”
Jesse leaned forward and nudged his knee against Christopher’s,which brought a soft smile to Christopher’s face. “So, your folks are inKnoxville still?”
“Yeah. I haven’t seen my dad in years, though. We don’ttalk. When it comes to my folks, like I said, it’s better to be off theirradar.”
Jesse nodded and took a sip of wine, watching Christophergulp some of his. He slid his arm along the back of the sofa and touchedChristopher’s shoulder.
Christopher turned his head and smiled. He reached up,sliding his fingers over Jesse’s knuckles before dropping his hand again.
“If it’s not too personal…what happened if you were on theirradar?” Jesse asked, stroking gently against Christopher’s shoulder with hisfingertips.
Christopher’s lips twisted in a smirk. “Hell happened.”
The noise was involuntary and so was the rougher grip ofJesse’s fingers. To think of anyone hurting Christopher…
Christopher smiled and shook his head. “Don’t worry. Theydidn’t beat me or anything.”
“Some things are just as bad as a beating.”
“Yeah. I guess. Being told you’re filthy and will burn inthe fires of hell, constantly bombarded by dinner table prayers calling for thecure of your ‘sickness,’ being exhorted to turn my back on the various eviltemptations of Satan, and to seek satisfaction only in Christ when all I wantedwas to be left alone long enough to figure out what it meant that I had a crushon my biology lab partner and that he’d actually kissed me? I guess it’s notunfair to say it was pure hell.”
Jesse sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“Well, from what you told me the other night, it sounds likeyou didn’t have it easy either. It’s gotta change. Next generation, maybe.Hopefully they’ll be accepted and loved for who they are.”
Almost on cue there was a yell and a thud, then a doorupstairs banged open and shut, and two sets of feet thumped down the stairs.Will and Frankie-Jones almost tumbled into the living room in their pajamas,waving pool noodles like swords and using bed pillows as shields. Christophergrinned as the boys fought each other in front of the television, shouts andlaughter punctuated with whaps of the noodles.
“Boys, I thought you were making forts!” Jesse shouted overthe new chaos.
“We were attacked!” Will shouted.
“By each other!” Frankie-Jones added, his pretty impressiveafro shaking with the seismic vibration of a noodle being whapped across hisface.
“I can see that.” Jesse raised his hands. “Let’s bring itdown a notch before you break something.”
Will wiped a hand across his sweaty face and then stoppedshort, noticing Christopher for the first time. “Oh, hey. Mister…um, I forgotyour name?”
“Christopher. Just call me Christopher.”
“This is Frankie-Jones,” Will said, slapping his blue noodleagainst Frankie-Jones’s arm. “He’s nine.”
