Fear of Flying

23. Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Three

Drew

Drew tried not to fidget with his legal pad or his pen, but he couldn’t stop himself from the slight and hopefully imperceptible twist of his chair in the conference room at Vanderwall, Stockton, and Peters as they waited for Mr. Davidson to arrive. However, given how perceptive the other Mr. Davidson seemed to be, watching Drew quietly from where he sat in the next chair over, Drew wouldn’t be surprised if he’d started timing the minuscule twists. They were slightly rhythmic, maybe once every few seconds?

Dammit, he needed to stop. This wasn’t him. Absolutely, one hundred percent not him. He hadn’t been nervous in front of clients since his second year in practice. He should have come into work yesterday—having most of Wednesday and all of Thursday alone with his thoughts had been far too much time.

Mr. Davidson turned his head and gave Drew a smile, almost as if he had been timing his chair twisting. That, or he was hinting at something else. And Drew hoped desperately it wasn’t the fact that ever since he’d come home, it was as though—god, as ridiculous as it sounded—it was as though he was having trouble... shoving the gay back in the closet.

Before, it’d been a mask that was so easy to slip on and wear throughout the day. Actually, he wasn’t sure he’d ever taken it off, not really. Not until Zach. There hadn’t ever really been a reason to. Maybe occasionally, when he was at his parents’ house, but not always—it was usually easier to not remind anyone of the issue. Even at home, even alone, it was only every once in a while would he let himself explore what it meant to be... himself.

Drew clenched his jaw tight and did his best to push the thoughts from his mind. He was at work, for fuck’s sake. What was wrong with him? Yet his mind instantaneously jumped to a ridiculously sharp image of a gorgeous man with dark hair and amazing blue eyes. God, he couldn’t think of him. He needed to focus on work.

“Someone special on your mind, son?”

His pen clattered to the table. He hadn’t even realized he was still holding it. “What? Huh? No.”

“Ahh, don’t worry. You’re fine. It’s not like I’m going to tattle on you to your boss,” teased the other Mr. Davidson—Rich, he’d said to call him. “Sorry about Daniel, always running late.”

“It’s okay—”

“Ahh-ah, wait!” Rich interrupted, a decisive finger in the air. “I’m not supposed to apologize for him anymore, especially not after we’re done here today. Just don’t tell my therapist I slipped up.” Rich leaned in a little and winked conspiratorially.

“Heh.” Drew aimed for a casual chuckle of agreement. “I won’t,” he assured Rich.

“You know...” Rich started, letting out a sigh and examining the thick gold wedding band he was still wearing on his left ring finger. He twisted it using the thumb and forefinger of his opposite hand—regretfully or thoughtfully, Drew wasn’t sure—and he seemed to take another moment, maybe to search for just the right words. “I still love him. That’s probably no secret. Hah. I think my foolish heart will love him forever. ”

He paused for a long moment, and all Drew could do was nod, hoping his client would catch his movement.

“I told him I wouldn’t contest things. I just want the dog.”

“Wh-what went wrong?”

Rich let out a humorless laugh. “I’ve seen your record—this ain’t your first rodeo, son. What do you think always happens? I imagine it’s divided into two categories: It wasn’t what I thought or We grew apart . I think maybe for us, it was a bit of both.”

“Heh, yeah, that’s more or less how it goes.” Drew was desperate to ask if that meant true love wasn’t real, but Rich was his client, a client whom he’d known for all of twenty minutes, most of which had been spent in silence. Just because Rich was gay didn’t mean that he had all the answers Drew was looking for.

“Ah, kid,” Rich said sympathetically, clapping a hand on Drew’s shoulder, “don’t let this jade you. Don’t let this job jade you. There’s still magic in love. Even though it’s ending like this, I still wouldn’t change a thing. The love I got for nearly ten years was worth this pain. It fucking hurts like hell, but I’d still do it all over again.”

“Y-you would?”

“In a damn heartbeat. Daniel was the love of my life. Hell, he is the love of my life. Maybe I’m not his, I dunno. But I don’t regret the love he gave me for the time we had together.”

Drew’s heart was rending inside his chest, twisting too far this way and that. He couldn’t think about this now, couldn’t feel it now. He needed to force the mask back on. This was too risky.

To distract himself, he tapped his phone to check the time, even though there was a prominent clock just opposite them on the wall, and Milo’s large head and soulful eyes greeted him. He’d gone to visit him yesterday and been that much closer to taking him home. But his work schedule wasn’t fair to Milo .

“Even if he takes the dog?” Drew blurted out, throwing in a weak chuckle at the end so he could maybe pass it off as an attempt at levity.

“Ah, if he takes the dog, fuck ’im—we’re going to court!” Rich cried animatedly, though his wink and the shrug of his shoulders told Drew there was no truth in his threat. Drew suspected Rich might let Daniel have the dog too, if he knew Daniel really wanted it.

When Daniel finally did arrive a few minutes later, Drew found himself feeling even more unmoored, his mind wrestling with the whole idea of gay marriage and what it meant and could mean and should mean. He just didn’t know. Had the whole fight for equality even been worth it when it seemed like most marriages—gay or straight—ended up in divorce?

And how the hell were you even supposed to know what love was when you’d never experienced it before?

The question plagued him throughout the entirety of the Davidsons’ settlement conference. It was still running around in circles in his mind later in the afternoon during the almost ninety-minute-long drive out to his parents’ ranch southwest of Dallas. Every song on the radio was trying to confuse him or taunt him or depress him.

“Yes, I wanna know what love is too, Foreigner,” Drew grumbled at the radio before turning it off and traveling in silence.

Of course, the quiet was too quiet, and his mind started to replay every second of every hour that had passed since he’d first met Zach. Again. His heart ached, and for days now, it’d been an ebb and flow between sharp, immediate pain and a heavy numbness settled deep in his chest. Despite the pain they caused, he was grateful for the images—they were vivid and real and let him experience things all over again, even though he was really only chasing the echoes of Zach’s touch against his skin .

Desperate for distraction, he lowered his window and let the wind whip at him, the air brisk against his skin. The noise and the feel of the wind rushing past helped occupy his senses. The rest of the drive was on a two-lane highway with little traffic, and he held his arm straight out, feeling the pressure of the wind against it. Then he raised his hand, making waves as he marveled at the strength of the air when his hand cut through it and how just a little bend or shift in the way he held his arm created enough change for the force of the air to whip it back.

The chill had finally built up enough for the cold to start pricking at his fingers, but he kept his hand out still, the biting cold a good distraction from all the thoughts and feelings running endlessly through his mind. Finally, he was forced to pull his arm in, but he left the window open for a while longer, not wanting to hear the muted silence rolling it up would bring just yet.

Drew spent the rest of the drive with some rock station blasting and the window down, hoping to keep his mind occupied enough that he wouldn’t show up at his parents’ door with a melancholy vibe or his eyes red from trying not to cry. Would his mom be able to tell it was heartbreak? Could she even guess?

I don’t see why it’s a big deal. It’s a middle school dance, and you’re going to go with Susie Miller. She’s a nice girl. Maybe you’ll have a nice time.

I just don’t really want to go to a dance, Mom. I don’t even like dancing, and I don’t want Susie to think that I like her when I’m—

You’re not that gay, Andrew!

Y-you’re right, Mom. It’s—it’s fine. I’ll go to the dance with Susie.

Ah, that’s my boy! And who knows, maybe you’ll have such a nice time that you’ll want to go steady with her.

Yeah . . . yeah, maybe, Mom .

The familiar, dull ache settled back into his chest, the one that worked as kind of a shield to protect his heart from every casual and caring denial of who he was. She meant well. She was just worried. Feared for his safety. Wanted him to be happy.

Wanted him to be straight. Because it would be easier that way. Safer.

It almost fit—that shield. And Drew suspected that his heart would always be just a little too big for it now, broken and settled into this new shape.

He did the best he could to hide it and swallow it down, all of it, throughout catching up with Brian and Sherri and meeting his new niece, Madison. He managed to make it through dinner, smiling and laughing along with everyone. And it seemed like he was doing a fantastic job of not letting it show on his face, the sharp stabs of pain he felt inside—a newer kind of pain but already familiar, and terribly reminiscent of how it’d felt during Brian’s wedding.

But it was much too hard listening to his mom as she gushed about things. All the things that Drew would never do.

Oh, being a grandma is the best thing that’s ever happened to me!

Dad and I just have to plan a visit—we’ll go shopping and spoil my granddaughter rotten! She might be the only grandbaby I’ll get, unless you two are planning on more?

She didn’t know she was doing it, probably. It wasn’t intentional, this complete dismissal of the idea of him ever being a father. She didn’t mean anything by it, didn’t realize. But oh god, did it cut straight through him. He hadn’t even realized until just this moment how much he wanted to be a father.

And fuck, he was thankful dinner had been cleared and dessert was finished because he couldn’t be at that table anymore. As unobtrusively as he could, he’d excused himself from the dining room to “freshen up” but headed straight for the door to the backyard instead. He managed to make it to the porch and close the door behind him before he doubled over and let out a shuddering breath, then gulped in lungfuls of the chilly night air.

Drew made his way over to the porch railing and braced himself with both hands, looking out over the expanse of still-dormant grass in his parents’ backyard. The same backyard he’d grown up in, with the old tire swing hanging from the live oak tree and the sandbox where he and his brother had spent hours and hours playing with their Tonka bulldozers and excavators.

His grip tightened around the wood railing, and he let the roughness of its weathered surface bite into his palms. He needed to remind his dad to sand this down and put a new clear coat on it.

Though he tried to stop it, his mind jumped forward in time, the backyard before him transforming into a lush, spring green a handful of years in the future. Little Madison was running around and giggling and squealing with youthful glee. Maybe she’d be lucky and have a brother or sister to play with too, like he’d had growing up. He and Brian had had cousins, but Maddie wouldn’t have any.

Drew’s heart twisted painfully, this newly imagined future that he’d never have, one he hadn’t realized how much he’d wanted until... He swallowed back against the lump in his throat. Maybe it wouldn’t have hurt this much if he hadn’t met Zach, hadn’t started hoping and dreaming that it was even remotely possible.

He heard the creak of the old screen door behind him but didn’t turn around. He wasn’t sure he could survive it if it was his mother—he needed more space, more time. A small mewling sound and someone clearing his throat gave Drew instant relief, though the tiny gurgles from Madison made his heart ache in an entirely different way .

His brother’s boots made quiet knocks against the wooden planks of the porch, his hesitant steps followed by the muted thwack of the screen door falling shut. “Uh, want—want some company?”

Drew closed his eyes and took a deep breath before pushing off the railing and turning around to see Brian holding baby Maddie. “Sure,” he said, forcing a smile.

Brian nodded his head toward the old glider bench on the far side of the porch, and they walked over to it together and sat down. Drew reached up to rub at the back of his neck. He and Brian were... they weren’t not close, but they didn’t talk all that often, maybe once a month with a few scattered texts here and there.

Brian looked at Drew hesitantly, lifting his arms just slightly and holding the bundle of baby and blankets that was Maddie and her bottle out in Drew’s direction. “I thought you might want to...”

Drew’s heart stuttered, and he gave his brother a short nod, holding his arms out and hoping Brian wouldn’t notice his shakiness and change his mind. Drew had held her earlier when he’d first arrived, and while he’d been overwhelmed with the joy of meeting her, he’d felt completely inept. This, now, as Maddie whimpered up at the new face in front of her and furrowed her little brow so fiercely, this was only the second time Drew had ever held a baby.

Brian seemed to wait a beat for them to get settled, and then, just as Maddie’s face scrunched as if she might start to wail, Brian reached over to hand Drew her bottle. Her features smoothed again and her mouth opened automatically. Drew fumbled to take the bottle but managed to both hold Maddie and get the bottle in her mouth at the same time.

“Yeah, there, you got it. You’re a natural,” Brian said, the phrase rolling off his tongue as though he said it often. He probably did, and maybe he even meant it some of the time .

The last three words echoed in Drew’s head— You’re a natural —and a heavy sadness spread slowly through him and settled deep in his chest and in his gut. But when he looked down to see Maddie staring up at him with wide blue eyes, something else tugged at him too, a more intense feeling.

She looked so serious and pensive, like she was examining him and trying to figure him out while she sucked rhythmically at her bottle. He couldn’t help but smile, and a hint of laughter twitched and threatened at the corner of his mouth when he wondered if Maddie would figure him out before he figured himself out.

He wasn’t sure how long they sat and stared at each other, but it was a while before he turned his head to find Brian watching him. The warm smile on Brian’s face almost seemed a bit sad, especially with the crease of his brow and the sheen of tears in his eyes. Drew was sure he’d never seen his brother cry.

“What’s wrong?” Drew asked, glancing briefly at Maddie to make sure he still had the bottle to her mouth correctly.

Brian hitched a leg up onto the bench, shifting to face Drew a bit more, and he rested his arm along the back of the glider, which swayed gently from his movement. He shook his head slightly, as though to say nothing was wrong, but it was clear that wasn’t the whole truth.

Following Brian’s gaze out into the distance, Drew noticed the moon didn’t seem to be out tonight, at least not that he could see from the porch, but the stars shone brightly this far out in the country. And that one planet hung low and large in the sky—Mars? Jupiter? Venus?—he could never remember which.

He watched as Brian seemed to gather his thoughts, his eyes shimmering even more as a few stray tears slipped out. A feeling of anxiousness spread slowly through Drew’s chest as the silence continued, interrupted only by the sounds of Maddie’s suckling and the ever-present chorus of crickets .

Drew shifted more toward his brother, trying to hitch his leg up onto the bench too, while also managing the baby and the bottle. It wasn’t working so well, and Brian reached over wordlessly to help Drew get resituated, taking the now-empty bottle from him and showing him how to hold Maddie upright against his chest in case she needed to burp.

Brian sat back again when Drew was settled, and Drew took a moment to marvel at the size of Maddie’s tiny body. The warmth she gave off was comforting in a way he couldn’t really process, though he wondered for a second whether she might be cold.

“I’m sorry, little brother,” Brian blurted out.

Drew looked up in surprise and confusion, but Brian barreled on before Drew could ask what he was sorry for.

“I’m so sorry. This was our first time back home since moving to Portland, and dinner with Mom and Dad... God, Drew, I’m so sorry. Portland’s a far cry from Credence, Texas”—he laughed humorously, his eyes still wet—“but I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that. We’ve, uh, made a lot of friends up there, me and Sherri. College, grad school... shit, there’s a hell of a lot of world out there. I never knew anyone gay, ’cept you, and, ah, my friends back home say that’s pretty unlikely—it’s more like you were the only one I knew was gay. I didn’t realize...”

Drew sat silent when Brian trailed off, his pulse starting to race. He wasn’t sure what to say, and it seemed like Brian was working up to a bigger point anyway. They’d never... He’d never talked about this with Brian. As his mind ran through all the possible things his brother might say next, Drew noticed Maddie’s little body seemed to be growing heavier, like maybe she’d fallen asleep. At least this particular heaviness on his chest was pleasant.

“Fuck, Drew, I didn’t realize how toxic Mom and Dad were— are . Mom especially. And I never said anything.” Brian’s voice was rough with anger. He was focused on rubbing at the calluses on his hands, but then he met Drew’s gaze again. “Even tonight, I didn’t say anything. But god, I think I just didn’t realize it until everything was right in front of me like that. I should’ve protected you—I should protect you. Even from Mom. Especially from Mom.”

Drew jolted to sit up straighter, ready to protest, but he halted when he heard fussing noises coming from Maddie. He sank back a little and rubbed his hand up and down along her back—trying to soothe her, or maybe himself—as he let Brian’s words play through his head again.

“Toxic, Bri? Isn’t that... a bit harsh? She was just—she only wanted to protect me, keep me safe from ridicule and worse. You know as well as I do how bad things can be, all the hate crimes we heard about, that we still hear about.”

“Drew,” he said, waiting until Drew looked him in the eye again before he continued, “I mean toxic . You don’t react to your kid coming out of the closet by shoving him back in.”

“I’m not—” Drew cut himself off. He wanted to protest. He wanted to argue that he didn’t have to be closeted, especially not at home. But that wasn’t the truth, not really.

Four. Four people—fuck... Drew’s breath hitched, and he could feel that complicated knot of sadness growing bigger, and the twisting of his heart was more painful than ever.

Six. Six people in the world knew he was gay.

And of those, there were only two he could talk with about it—Brian and Sherri—and he’d only just learned that fact three minutes ago. Dad had always been busy with work and not really the kind of dad you talked to about stuff, not unless it was how to fix the irrigation pivot or the tractor mower. Mom—Mom had routinely shut down anything and everything even remotely about queerness. Drew knew, though, that she was just worried, terrified of losing her son as so many other mothers across the country—all over the world—lost their sons because of whom they were attracted to.

Damn near every fiber of his being fought against him saying the words, but it was like a reflex—his mom’s sentiments coming out of his mouth. “What was she supposed to have done?”

“Be proud of you. Love you. Love you .”

Drew’s chest tightened, and he tried to swallow back the emotions, but he could feel the tears burning behind his eyes and then spilling out slowly. For a few seconds, he had to focus on his breathing and the fact that his niece was still there and sleeping against his chest. He wasn’t sure what to say, but he could feel his grasp on Maddie tighten just a little, like he needed something to ground him.

Brian put a hand on Drew’s knee. He’d scooted closer, and he seemed to be waiting for Drew to look at him again. His brother’s eyes were serious—like there was a mix of deep regret and then something more that felt a whole lot like love. “Drew, Mom wasn’t the ‘love the sinner, hate the sin’ type you see too often around here, but she sure as hell didn’t tell you any different. She didn’t tell you that you were perfect and loved just how you were—how you are .”

“Bri—” his voice cracked when he tried to speak, and it was just as well that his brother wasn’t done talking.

“And seeing your face tonight when Mom talked about grandbabies—god, Drew—there’s no reason you can’t give her grandbabies too. You—you can have however many you want, with or without a partner. Whatever makes you happy. I want you to be happy, little brother.”

Drew wasn’t sure he was breathing, but he closed his eyes and focused on the way Maddie’s little body felt, warm and with a weight that seemed to carry something else with it. Trust, maybe? Love? Whatever it was that babies felt. All he knew was that this feeling was so warm and so comforting and was easier to concentrate on than everything his brother had just thrown at him.

He kept his eyes closed for a moment longer, letting the comforting feeling of Maddie’s closeness wash over him and help calm him. He wanted this. He wanted to know how this felt with his own child. He wanted everything he thought he’d never be able to have, told himself time and time again that he couldn’t have—he wanted to fall in love, get married, and have kids.

And Drew was struggling with letting the truth of it settle in his chest. It was too much all at once.

It’s not like he hadn’t known, deep down. He wasn’t na?ve. He’d met plenty of gay people living their lives without so much fear. He’d read the news, kept up with current events—especially the legislation. The evidence was all there for him to see or hear or read—that he could have a happy, fulfilling life, out and proud.

But the other evidence had always been there too. Hate crimes on the rise, bills being introduced left and right that treated LGBTQIA+ folks like second-class citizens, sometimes less than human. There was so much hate and fear and—

Brian squeezed Drew’s knee, almost as if he could tell Drew had been spiraling—hell, he probably could tell. “I’ll talk to Mom. I’ll help her see—you don’t have to do the work there.” His brother hung his head for a second and took a deep breath before looking up again. “I want you to... just be happy, Drew. Be out and proud or out and quiet or whatever you want, but... I know you. I know you’ve always had your head in the clouds, dreaming of some epic romance like Superman and Lois Lane’s.”

Drew was crying, but he chuckled through the tears. “Clark Kent and Lois Lane.”

“Drew, get off it—they’re the same man.” Brian pretended to be irritated, like they hadn’t had this argument a thousand times—that Clark Kent was the real person and Superman was just a disguise, a way to help the world so he could have a normal life.

Drew bit his lip, barely hiding his smile as hope started bubbling up in his chest. He ducked his head down, resting his cheek against Maddie’s head and her impossibly soft hair. There was a soft, pleasant smell—hell if he could name whatever baby product it surely was—but it only added to that feeling of calm and comfort. Were all babies this magical to hold?

After a moment, he looked at his brother again.

Brian smiled. He’d clearly been watching Drew, heartened maybe by witnessing the moment between his daughter and his brother. But then the serious look on his face returned. “Come out or don’t, that’s your decision—and I’ll support you and love you no matter what. I’m sorry if I never made that clear before, never supported you when it really mattered.”

“It’s o—” Drew closed his eyes and took a deep breath, that light, soft smell filling his senses again. He met his brother’s gaze. “Thank you, Brian. Thanks. I love you too.”

Long moments passed, and Drew was so grateful for the comfortable, companionable silence between him and Brian. All the words had been said, really, and Drew needed time to process, to maybe let them settle, to just think about what living his own life on his own terms might look like.

It looked a hell of a lot like Zach.

Drew tried to keep his breathing slow and steady, not wanting to wake Maddie. He thought about what Brian said, about their mom, about everything, and god, there was a scary amount of grief ahead of him. And therapy too, he supposed. Lots of therapy. Maybe with his mom, too, if she was willing.

But he didn’t want to think about any of that now, so he set it aside until later. He and Brian pushed the glider gently so that it swayed back and forth, ensuring little Maddie stayed asleep on her uncle’s chest. At some point, Sherri came out to collect Maddie, but not before cupping Drew’s face and giving him a tender, caring look, then kissing him on the forehead. “Love you, little brother.”

Drew’s heart squeezed, and he could feel more tears threatening. He wasn’t quite used to all this love, especially not when he was feeling so emotionally raw already.

Sherri reappeared minutes later, sans baby, but with an open beer bottle in each hand, and she served them without a word, only a kiss for her husband and some sort of secret eye-contact code between the two of them before she went back into the house.

“She could stand to be a bit more subtle, you think?” Brian said with a grin.

Drew wasn’t sure exactly what they’d said in their secret code, but he assumed the gist of it had been “enjoy some brotherly bonding time” or something like that. Drew just chuckled noncommittally.

Brian was the first one to interrupt the evening’s cricket serenade. “So, um... do you have—I mean, is there... a someone?”

Zach.

His heart pulsed. God, he wasn’t even sure how to answer that because... did he? Thousands of little snapshots of their time together played through his mind, but that only lasted a few minutes before the piercing agony of walking out on him started to edge back in. But before it could take hold, an odd noise came from his brother’s direction, and Drew’s head snapped up.

Brian’s eyes were wide with excitement. “There is! Oh my god! There is! Tell me, tell me!” Brian cried, making the glider jerk this way and that as he shifted to face Drew. After an awkward beat, Brian backtracked a bit. “Or, um, don’t. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. Sorry, sorry.”

Drew was feeling this strange mix of emotions—at first, the threat of agony, but that was so quickly and wonderfully replaced with a tentative hope. Better than hope—a realization that yes, he really could tell someone about Zach. About the man he’d met not even a week ago and managed to fall in love with so quickly and so completely. And even the pain of what he’d done and what might be ahead for Drew wasn’t enough to quell his enthusiasm as he told his brother everything.

It was at least another hour, maybe more, before Drew had exhausted every detail about Zach that was tame enough to tell his brother. The evening at his parents’ house ended with a brief farewell to his parents, promising he’d visit again soon. And on the porch of their childhood home, while Sherri waited in the car with Maddie, Brian gave Drew a fierce and protective hug, full of so much love and... god, he didn’t even know what else. But never had he felt more accepted and more loved by someone who knew all of him.

A few minutes later, as he sat in his car at the end of the dirt road at the edge of his parents’ property, Drew unlocked his phone with a swipe, quickly navigated to Discord, and typed out a brief message to his pocket friends.

NotPeterParker If anyone’s available in about an hour, I’d really love to chat. Don’t worry, all good things, but... yeah, I wanna share some things.