Chapter Five
Rory
Saturday, April 18/Sunday, April 19
RORY ARRIVED AT his apartment the evening after a day at Jo?o’s barbecue.
“Mina, I’m home,” he called out.
The little cat rushed in and leaped to his shoulder. He scratched her under the chin.
Rory walked into his kitchen and filled Mina’s self-watering and food bowls. He placed the leftovers Jo?o gave him in the fridge. There was enough to last him a week.
As he put the food away, the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Rory, it’s Bernard.”
“Hey, Bernard. What’s up?”
“Well, I’m taking Ginger to Edgewater Park tomorrow and was wondering if you’d like to join us. We could make a day of it. Take a nice walk around the park and have lunch. It’ll be great.”
“Oh, I can’t do it all day. I can meet you there for lunch though. I have mass at eight in the morning, and then I have lunch with my family, but I might be able to leave lunch early.”
“I understand.” There was a hint of disappointment in Bernard’s voice. “Maybe another time?”
“No, we can,” Rory said. “I can meet you at the park around noon. Then we’ll have the rest of the day to hang out.”
“Oh, that sounds great then.”
“Do you need me to bring anything?”
“No, I’ll bring a small cooler with drinks, sandwiches, and some chips. It’ll be fine.”
“Okay, see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow.”
I’m so happy we reunited. It will be great to have my best friend back. I want to be friends again.
Six years apart, and he and Bernard jumped back into their friendship. They were hanging out, laughing, and having a great time. His feelings came back.
He remembered their conversation about Bernard coming out. Rory found men attractive. Or he thought he did. He never had anyone he could talk to about it. Bernard would understand, but how would it affect their friendship? He found Bernard attractive. He couldn’t tell him; he had to figure this out himself.
As he sat there contemplating, the phone rang.
“Hello, Rory.” His mother’s stern voice carried through.
“Hello, Mother.”
“Where were you tonight?”
“I’m sorry, Mother, I was at Mr. Silva’s barbecue this evening. I lost track of time.”
“You missed Saturday evening service.”
“I’m sorry, Mother, I won’t let it happen again.”
“Good, we will see you at service tomorrow and then for lunch.”
“I’m meeting a friend for lunch and a walk in the park tomorrow after services,” Rory said.
“Oh, really? Sounds nice.” His mother’s voice turned sweet. “What’s her name? Do we know her?”
“It’s Bernard Silva.”
Rory waited with bated breath. His mother and father hadn’t spoken to or about Bernard since he came out. It took Bernard a year to reconnect with Rory after coming out. The last time he spoke to Bernard was six years ago, when he pushed Bernard away. He blamed it on grad school, but that wasn’t the whole truth. He couldn’t tell Bernard why.
“You’re spending time with that Silva boy?”
That Silva boy? He has a name.
Rory decided it was better to keep his thoughts to himself. His mother’s wrath was nothing to tempt.
“Bernard and I have been friends for years. We reconnected at Mr. Silva’s barbecue and he asked if I wanted to hang out.”
“That Silva boy is going to fill your head with some nonsense.”
“Mother, he’s not going to fill my head with nonsense. We’re friends. That’s all. I need more friends. I don’t have many.”
“You have the church. That’s all you need,” she said.
“Mother–”
“Don’t you ‘Mother’ me,” she snapped. “His younger brother, Emilio, is a fine young man. He attends Saint Catherine’s Catholic Church every Sunday, has a beautiful wife, and lovely children. He’s a proper man. But you will not spend time alone with Bernard, do you understand me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
He stood at the table. His mother denied him the pleasures of a friendship outside the church. What was he going to tell Bernard?
I better call him now, before it’s too late.
“Hello?” came Bernard’s voice.
“Hey, Bernard. I’m sorry. Something came up and I’m not going to make it tomorrow.”
“It’s okay. I understand. It was last-minute,” Bernard said. “What about next Saturday?”
I can’t keep avoiding him. It’s not fair to him. He hasn’t done anything wrong. I can go and not tell my mother. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt, right?
“Yes, next Saturday works great. We can meet at ten? Then make a day of it.”
“I’m looking forward to it. I’ll see you next Saturday.”
Rory hung up. His heart sank. He’d let his friend down.
He got into bed and read his Bible. He read the story of Sodom and Gomorrah. How Lot attempted to save the angels. He’d been taught it was a cautionary tale against sodomy and homosexuality.
I don’t see it the way the church taught it. This story is about greed and hatred. Is homosexuality actually a sin?
Rory knew there were more passages, but he didn’t care to read them again right now. Pressing the Bible against his heart, he prayed for strength against the temptations of the flesh.
I must resist these urges. I must resist these urges. He let the phrase play over in his head like a mantra.
*
THE NEXT MORNING at mass, Rory found himself sandwiched between his mother and father in the pews. His younger brother, Duncan, sat on the other side of their father with his wife, Catherine, and their four-year-old daughter, Penelope. The pews weren’t comfortable for a man of Rory’s size. While his father was taller than him, Rory had more bulk. His dad’s family had always been large, but Rory was at the extreme end of the family.
Everyone around was dressed in their best suits and dresses. Pearls and watches adorned their bodies. They all attempted to one-up one another. His mother was no different, but his father had worn the same suit for twenty years.
Rory went through the motions of the service. Sit, kneel, stand, sing, repeat. He didn’t follow the service. His mind wandered to Bernard. How wonderful it was to spend time with him. Bernard never judged him. Bernard joked with him and cared about him. He had invited him to the park with his dog to hang out. He cared about Bernard and there was no reason they couldn’t be friends.
At the end of the service, Rory’s mother walked over to a couple two pews behind them.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins. So lovely to see you again,” his mother said.
“Hello, Mrs. Sinclair, it’s a pleasure to see you too. How’s your family?” The woman had a thick Southern accent. Rory had heard this accent on television but hadn’t heard anyone talk like this. She was lean and wore a full-length flowery dress.
“They are well, thank you,” his mother said.
“You remember my husband, Andrew.”
Andrew was lean and muscular. His black handlebar mustache shimmered with oil. His hair was slicked back with a large amount of grease. A single strand stuck out to the side.
“Yes, of course. Nice to see you, Andrew,” his mother said. “And you remember my husband, Ronan.”
Andrew and Rory’s father shook hands. They shifted their feet. This meeting wasn’t accidental.
“You remember my son, Rory.” His mother moved Rory in front of her with surprising strength.
“Maeve, what are you doing?” his father cut in.
Rory’s dad was built strong and muscular. A few inches over six feet tall, he intimidated most men, but not his wife. She was the polar opposite. Short and petite, but a fire burned inside her. When she wanted something, she got it.
“Nothing, Ronan. I just want to make sure everyone is acquainted, that’s all,” she insisted.
“Hello, Rory.” Mrs. Jenkins held out her hand. “It’s nice to see you again.”
He shook hands and made eye contact, as his parents taught him. “It’s nice to see you as well, Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins.”
“The pleasure is all ours, Rory. Such a fine young man,” Mrs. Jenkins said.
Rory held in a sigh. He was thirty-five and his mother talked about him like he was still a teenager. He continued to be the good son he was raised to be. No questions, do as your parents ask, no matter how old you get. That’s what a well-behaved son does.
“Isn’t he though,” his mother said.
They continued to talk. Rory, his father, and Mr. Jenkins moved aside, so the women could talk. Rory shifted his feet. His stomach twisted into knots. His mother only talked to another woman this long if she knew she had a daughter she could set him up with. His mother planned this interaction. She’d find the right words to draw out their daughter.
“And of course, Duncan and his wife have a beautiful little girl. She’s just the sweetest thing. I hope Rory gives us grandchildren someday.”
“Oh, that reminds me.” Mrs. Jenkins turned. “Missy, come meet the Sinclairs.”
A young woman glided over to stand next to her. She had fair skin, silvery-blonde hair, a row of freckles across her button nose, and a build similar to Mrs. Jenkins.
“This is my daughter, Missy.”
How did mentioning grandchildren remind her of her daughter?
“It’s a pleasure to meet you all.” Missy shook hands with everyone. When she got to Rory, her hand lingered for a few extra moments as she gazed into his eyes. She smiled and batted her eyelashes. He felt nothing.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Rory said.
“What a lovely young lady,” his mother said, “and so polite.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Missy said.
“So, is your husband or boyfriend here?” his mother asked.
“Oh, I don’t have a beau, ma’am. I’m a proper lady waiting for a proper gentleman.”
This was the opening his mother needed. She wasted no time and swooped in.
“We must have you over for lunch. We have Sunday lunch every week after morning services. Why don’t you join us sometime?”
“That sounds absolutely charming,” Mrs. Jenkins said. Mr. Jenkins and his father exchanged knowing glances. Rory stood there, unable to speak.
“Wonderful. We will keep in touch.” The two women exchanged numbers and parted ways.
“Let’s head to lunch, shall we?” his mother asked with a satisfied smile.
*
THE FAMILY SAT around the dining table his brother built for their parents for their thirtieth wedding anniversary. Duncan never failed to show how much more skilled he was than Rory. A skill his parents praised. His mother frowned at Rory’s insistence on knitting and baking.
Rory pushed food around his plate. His family talked around him while he stared at his uneaten food. He’d disappointed Bernard. Bernard wanted to be friends, and because he was gay, his mother refused to let him see his best friend. It’d been too long. Why couldn’t they pick up like they did when Bernard came back to him after coming out? He owed it to Bernard.
“So, what do you think, Rory?” his mother said.
“Huh, what do I think about what?”
His mother sighed. “About Missy.”
“I don’t really know her,” Rory said.
“Well, you’ll get to know her when we have them over for lunch,” she said.
“Mother, why do you insist on me meeting a girl and getting married?”
“Because you are over thirty and should have been married by now.”
Rory continued to dwell in his thoughts. Where he could be himself, explore his own needs and wants, and not placate his mother’s every wish. The hint of desire he had for men. Something he fought against.
His mother chose his friends, his dates, his everything. His apartment and his career were the two things he chose for himself, and she did not approve of either. She believed he should have a stable job and own a home by now.
“Rory, let’s go for a walk after lunch. Clear our heads and talk man to man,” his father said.
Rory was taken aback. His father hadn’t asked him to go for an afternoon walk before. His walks were his father’s time to reflect and decompress.
“Yes, sir,” Rory said.
Rory and his father put on light jackets and headed out of the house.
“We’ll be back in a little bit,” his father said.
Rory and his father walked in silence down the street. Every house was a clone of the one before. White houses, manicured lawns, trimmed hedges, and little white fences stood in a neat row. The sidewalks were clean of debris. The trees along the path were equal distance, surrounded by iron, and trimmed to match. The neighborhood was out of The Stepford Wives.
A wrought iron fence surrounded the park. The gate closed and locked. The park was only accessible to residents of the neighborhood. It covered an entire block. Benches and grills surrounded a small duck pond. Swings, sandboxes, jungle gyms, and seesaws covered a corner of the park. Basketball courts, a tennis court, and a small grassy area filled the remainder of the space.
His father sat on a bench facing the pond. He motioned for Rory to join him. The sun reflected off the clear water.
“Thank you for inviting me, Father,” Rory broke the silence.
“Just call me Dad,” he said, “your mother isn’t here.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“So, you reunited with Bernard.” It wasn’t a question.
“Mother must have told you.”
“She did.”
“Yes, and I want to hang out with him again. He was my best friend for so many years. We had a few ups and downs, but that’s the past.”
His father looked at him for a moment. “Your mother does not approve of him.”
“I know, but I’m a grown man. I should be able to make that choice myself.” His voice was defiant. He’d never spoken to his father like this. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong.” Rory lowered his head.
“You have every right to be upset,” his father said.
“I do?”
“Of course. You were told to stay away from your best friend. The one friend who no matter what, you’ve stood by. Someone I know would stand by you no matter what. I’ve never seen you so determined to hold on to a friend. You shouldn’t have to make that choice again.”
Again? His father knew he’d distanced himself from Bernard, but he never told him why. He didn’t want to make the choice. He cared about Bernard and wanted him back in his life. No matter what the cost.
“But Mother said—”
“As you said. You are your own man. You make your own decisions. That decision is between you and Bernard. No one else should make that choice for you, including me or your mother.”
Rory nodded; a lump stuck in his throat.
His father leaned over and hugged him. “No matter what happens, remember I will always love you, Rory.”
Does he know my feelings for Bernard? Would he approve? Or am I reading into this too much?
They returned to the house. Rory’s mother insisted he take leftovers.
“It’s still early. Maybe you need another walk to clear your head.” His father winked. His mother appeared oblivious to their exchange.