Licorice 20
Author: sunsetsinthewes
Challenge: Licorice 20. The cheese stands alone
Extra: Sprinkles, fresh fruit: blueberries, fresh fruit: pineapple
Word Count: 4,020
Rating: G
Story: Polyfaceted; the title of this story is Faithfully Yours.
Summary: Three separate events in Owen’s life, spanning just over fifteen years, in which he struggles to balance his faith with his personal life.
Notes: This takes place in 1979, 1986, and 1997. Owen is an extremely legitimate minor character, known for being one of Eva and Adamo’s adoptive fathers. All of this takes place well before that, though.
***
South Carolina 1979
Owen is fifteen-and-a-half when he smuggles the family phonebook into his room. Wesley’s gone for the afternoon, at some practice or study group or something, thank God, and he has the entire second floor to himself for a few hours. He doesn’t have the nerve to write the number down, and instead repeatedly chants it to himself until he’s sure he has it memorized.
These days, with only Wesley and Jennifer still living at home, it’s much easier for Owen to creep through the house unnoticed. His father spends most of his time at the hospital and Jennifer’s barely come downstairs ever since Mary moved out and left her the attic bedroom. He thinks his mother is at some church fundraiser or something, but he’s cautious enough to make the effort to stretch the phone cord across the kitchen and make the call from inside the pantry.
The woman who answers reminds him of his grandmother and for a moment, Owen almost loses his nerve and hangs up. It’s only the thought of his friends’ earlier mocking that forces him to barge ahead, and by the end of a mostly painless conversation, he has an appointment to see Father Kenneth that coming Saturday.
It doesn’t take much to convince Mary to give him a ride to Chesterberg, even if it is on the other side of the county. She’s always been indulgent with Owen, not that that’s why she’s his favorite sister, and after her offers to pay for gas, she agrees. It nearly drains his entire allowance savings, paying for Mary to drive all the way from the college only to cart him around and then return, but it’s worth it. Especially when she buys his flimsy excuse about researching an article for the school paper.
St. Anthony’s is a small church, located off Main Street. Owen notes that it’s smaller than St. Seraphina and in a slightly worst state of disrepair-- it probably has a smaller congregation and as the last thing he wants is to run into someone he knows, he’s pleased. He has an easy time finding the office and after a quick exchange with the secretary, he’s ushered through a door and introductions are made.
“Father Kenneth?” Owen asks, striding forward and holding out a hand. He’s determined to tackle this head on, even if his knees are shaking. “I’m Owen Caddell. I-I called a few days ago? About making an appointment to talk to you?”
Father Kenneth is an older man, not quite elderly, but not far from it. Hearing this, he firmly grasps Owen’s hand and peers over the rim of his glasses. “You’re Mr. Caddell? I was expecting someone older.”
Owen flushes. “I’ll be sixteen in a few months.”
“Hmm.” Father Kenneth drops his hand, motioning to the seat across his desk and dismissing the secretary. Once the door closes, he wastes no time. “It’s nice to see a young man like yourself taking such an active interest in his faith. That’s rare among young people these days, don’t you agree? Most seem content to just leave religion until they’ve grown up and settled down.” He doesn’t pause, ignoring any half-formed replies. “What can I do for you? I can’t say I’ve seen you at Mass. Thinking of converting?”
“What? Oh, um, no. My family goes to St. Seraphina. I was christened there. As a baby, I mean. I’ve been Catholic all my life. I mean--” Owen mentally curses himself for getting so flustered. “I just, um. I wanted to talk to someone who doesn’t know me. I hope it’s okay, since I don’t attend--”
“No, no, that’s fine.” Father Kenneth waves a hand, dismissing his concerns. “A member of the flock is a member of the flock, no matter where he worships. How may I help?”
Owen’s heart begins to pound. This is it, no turning back. “Um, I think I need help. There’s some stuff... I need help. I-I’m trying to be a good Catholic, do the right thing, but there’s some... stuff.”
“I see.” Father Kenneth leans in. “If you’d like to make a confession, son, we can take this into the sanctuary.”
“No!” Owen says quickly. “No, I haven’t done anything yet. Just some thoughts and stuff like that. I-I just want to know how to be good. How to do what God wants me to do. I mean, I know what the Bible says about this, but then I remember that if God made me in his own image, he must have done this on purpose, and maybe I’m supposed to be like this. I just...” He raises his head, blinking back tears. “I just don’t know.”
“Son?” The priests voice is gentle, soft and soothing. “What is it we’re talking about here?”
“IthinkImightbegay,” Owen spits out, whispering. There’s no response to this and for a moment, he thinks that maybe he wasn’t loud enough to be heard. Terrified of having to say it again, having to repeat this horrible thought he’s only ever muttered to himself in the dark of night, he glances up and catches sight of the hard look in the Father’s eyes.
“Oh.” Father Kenneth straightens, leaning back in his chair. Gone is the kind, old uncle-figure, replaced by a cold, distant Servant of God. “Well.” He coughs. “This is serious. Serious indeed. You understand what sort of corrupt deviance you’re toying with, don’t you?”
Miserable, Owen merely nods.
“Good. Have you prayed for forgiveness? Asked the Lord to... cure this affliction?”
“Yes.”
“This is a very serious matter, not something to ignore until later,” Father Kenneth scolds as if he hadn’t heard. “Once you go down that road, it’s impossible to come back to the grace of the Lord. One momentary lapse in diligence and you may find yourself beyond help or recovery. Have you made a full confession?”
“No,” Owen admits, unable to raise his eyes. “I was- I was frightened. I thought if I prayed, asked for forgiveness-- I haven’t acted on anything. Maybe, if they were only thoughts, then God--”
“Immoral fantasies are no less immoral than actions,” Father Kenneth sternly informs him. “You must confess before you can begin to seek absolution.”
Owen bites his lip, hesitating. “If- if it’s unholy, Father, why would God make me feel like this?” He’s on the verge of crying, fighting it with every drop of self-control that he can muster. “Why would He let this happen?”
“God may test and tax us, but he will never give us more than we can handle. Faith is strengthened through trials, Mr. Caddell. You must always remember your faith and devotion.” Father Kenneth stands. “Come along. Until you confess and ask for forgiveness, you will never be free from damnation.”
Owen nods, slowly rising to follow. He inconspicuously swipes away a tear or two, mumbling, “And then?”
“And then?” Father Kenneth repeats. “And then you will devote yourself to prayer and holy pursuits. In the meantime, I’m sure we can find a suitable and discreet rehabilitation program for you to join. Diligence and devotion will pave your way to a virtuous life. Mark my words, boy, we’ll rid you of this no matter what it takes.”
When Owen finally rejoins Mary in front of Chesterberg’s town hall, nearly two hours have passed. His eyes are bloodshot, complexion blotchy, and his breath is coming in shallow shudders. Thankfully, his sister ignores this, and drives him home in blissful silence.
***
Massachusetts 1986
In his junior year of college, Owen proposes to Elizabeth. They’ve been dating since they were sixteen, best friends for over a decade prior to that, so it comes as no surprise to their family or friends. If anything, everyone is impatient that they waited so long.
Their relationship has its problems, he knows this. If anything, they probably have more problems than most couples, especially when it comes to intimacy. But Elizabeth is his best friend, the only person to know him nearly as well as he does, and he loves her deeply, as best as he can.
After nearly a month of counseling with Father Kenneth, around the time that the shadow of rehabilitation camp began to loom over his head, Owen deserted the effort and never looked back. If prayer and therapy sessions weren’t enough, then he would just have to accept his flaws and try to live his life as normal as possible despite them. Having a girlfriend and proposing marriage was what normal boys did and who would make a better wife than Elizabeth?
They set the date for after graduation, and the next two years fly by in a haze of classes, finals, and wedding planning. At the beginning of his last semester, Owen receives an offer for a paid internship from a prominent paper in Massachusetts. It’s grunt work and no better than a gopher position, but it’s unexpected and an incredible opportunity for advancement. Together, he and Elizabeth begin to plan a cross-country move and he gratefully finds himself too busy to even think a virtuous thought, let alone a deviant one.
They graduate without any complications and Elizabeth’s status as valedictorian is no less than anyone expects. That summer, they separate, Owen heading directly for Boston to arrange for an apartment while Elizabeth remains in South Carolina to continue planning the wedding. It’s the first time Owen’s been entirely alone, and despite running himself ragged as he juggles an upcoming move and a new job, the freedom he’s suddenly faced with is an overwhelming temptation.
Two weeks before the wedding, the night before Owen is due to return home, he can no longer handle the tension. He leaves the apartment without turning off the television or lights, desperate to escape the stifling and enclosed atmosphere for some fresh air. The walk doesn’t calm his hyperventilating, not that he actually expected it to, and before he knows it, his aimless wandering has led him into a neighborhood cathedral and directly into a front pew.
It couldn’t hurt, he decides, even if he had consciously decided to never personally acknowledge those urges he could never escape. And if there was ever a time he needed prayer, it would be now.
Father William is a priest Owen has had very little contact with. He usually performs the weekday morning Mass, exiled to a mostly administrative position with very little direct contact with the congregation. He was a nice man, mild-mannered and compassionate, but quiet enough to unnerve most members of the church.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, quickly backing away. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I didn’t think anyone was here. Excuse me.”
“No,” Owen says, half-rising and outstretching a hand to stop him. He’s surprised to hear himself say it, but immediately realizes it’s what he’s wanted this whole time. “Don’t go. Please?”
Father William nods and sinks down beside him. He waits for the end of the prayers, calm and silent. It’s probably his willingness to patiently listen that makes Owen like him so much.
“I think I’m making a mistake,” Owen finally says, breaking the silence and burying his face into his hands. “I’m so confused.” There’s no reply, but there is a sense of easy acceptance that makes him continue. “I’m new to this church. To this part of the country. I’ve been working so much, I haven’t had time to meet anyone. I don’t know who else to talk to, you see.”
“I have two ears and one mouth,” Father William tells him. “I like to think I use them to their corresponding ratio.”
Owen smiles despite himself. “If you’re sure.” He sighs, leaning back against the pew and eying the crucifix hanging over the altar. “I’m getting married in a couple weeks. She’s a great girl, I couldn’t ask for a better wife.”
“Congratulations.” Father William’s gaze fixates on one of the elaborate stained glass windows. “Though I get the feeling you feel otherwise.”
“I love her,” Owen insists. “More than anyone. She’s my best friend. We’ve been through everything together, no one knows me like she does. I’d be lost without her. I love her, I really do.”
“But you’re not in love with the young woman?”
He sighs. “No. I don’t think so. I’m not sure.”
Father William makes a noncommittal sound, lightly chewing on his lower lip. After a pause, he replies, “Then it would seem like marriage isn’t in the cards for the both of you.”
“No! It has to be.” There’s a note of rising panic in his voice and Owen turns to face the priest. He swallows, trying to calm himself before continuing. “I have to get married. I have to.”
Even though he hasn’t admitted anything, even though the exact words haven’t entered his mind in years, let alone passed his lips, there’s a look in Father William’s eyes that seems to insinuate he knows everything. “Then it seems you’re left with no alternative. If you’re set on... then yes. I think you have your answer.”
Owen looks away, miserable. “I’m afraid. I’m so terrified, Father.”
“I know.” Father William reaches across the gap between them, grasping his hand and gently squeezing. “But you’re not alone. Trust in the Lord to protect you. If you love this woman as much as you say, you’ll do right by her. No matter what that means, I know you’ll take care to look after her. You’re a good man. Focus on being a good husband and before long, it’ll be as natural as breathing to you.”
He sure doesn’t feel like a good man. But Father William is right-- he has no other option than to go through with the wedding, and he does love Elizabeth. No one could care for her like Owen does, doubts or no doubts.
***
New York 1997
Less than one year after his father’s death, Elizabeth approaches him with the very thing he’s been fearing the most-- she’s two months late and has had one positive pregnancy test. They’ve never really discussed children, though he thinks they’ve always known it would never be a possibility. It’s not that Owen doesn’t want kids-- he loves the idea and regrets the loss of the opportunity almost as keenly as one might regret a tangible loss. But after following six years of strict abstinence with one disastrous wedding night and ten years of failed sexual encounters, it’s obvious that children are not for them.
He continues to try, of course. Every so often, he forces himself to do his duty as a husband, to prove to himself that he is normal and can live the life he’s supposed to. More often than not, things are over before they can begin, and on the few occasions that he can finish, the guilt of imagining anyone other than his sweet Elizabeth sickens him until he’s unable to even attempt. It’s after one of these rare successful interludes that she breaks the news. Owen’s first thought is of Billy, the new coworker whose image he relied on to get as far as he did. His second is that their mockery of a family is no place for a child.
It turns out to be a false alarm, thankfully. But even with no immediate threat to the status quo, Owen can sense a change. He’s obsessed with his realization that their marriage is a sham, obsessed with how calm his acceptance is. An entire decade of their lives has been wasted on some failed experiment; a decade of lies, pain, and fruitless exercises, just to prove something that’s never been true.
It’s time to open his eyes to the fact that he hasn’t escaped his sins. He’s only dragged Elizabeth into them.
To Owen’s surprise, she’s the first to mention divorce. He immediately dismisses the thought-- they are devout Catholics after all-- but her kind, caring, and compassionate way of pressing the issue brings him around. They love each other of course, they always have and always will. They are each other’s best friends, closer to one another than anyone else can be. Nothing can come between them, not even a divorce, and it’s this fact that finally causes him to cave. She deserves a family that’s not a lie and if he can’t provide that for her, Owen can’t allow himself to keep her from finding something real.
The divorce process is painless and amicable. They remain as close as ever-- maybe even more so-- and Owen is surprised to be happier for Elizabeth and her freedom than he’s ever been before. When she sits him down over a homemade dinner and implores him to stop lying, to give in and stop fighting himself, over half a lifetime of misery comes pouring out. She holds him until his sobs die down, rocking him and murmuring words of comfort. That’s when Owen knows his days of denial are over and that there’s no going back.
One month later, one long, difficult, soul-searching month later, Owen enters St. Peter’s confessional and manages to greet his confessor without a waver in his voice. After the preliminary rituals, he falls silent.
“My son?” The Father is hidden and faceless, but his voice brings about the image of a young man, possibly even younger than Owen. “Did you wish to continue?”
“I--” Owen chokes, emotion thick in his throat. “I don’t even live New York, you know. I live in Connecticut. I drove all this way just so a stranger would-- I don’t know how to begin. So many years living a lie... I don’t know how to stop and start over again..”
“I find that when you start at the beginning, the rest of the tale is sure to follow.”
Owen bitterly chuckles and takes a deep breath. “The beginning. God, I think that was before I was even born. I don’t know anymore...” He imagines Elizabeth standing beside him, guiding him with the unwavering support she’s always shown. “I’m in the middle of a divorce. My wife-- my ex-wife-- cleared out the last of her belongings today. She’s really gone now, every trace of her.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Losing someone is always painful.”
“Not this time.” Owen flushes with shame. “This was easy. I’m happy for her. I’m happy that she’s moved on and started her own life. I know I should grieve over the loss of the marriage, but I can’t. I feel... weightless.”
“Hmm.” There’s a pause followed by the sound of shuffling. “I know the official stance of the Church regarding divorce isn’t--”
“That’s not it. I mean, I’m concerned about that, but it’s not the problem.” He swears he can hear Elizabeth’s voice in his ear, urging him onward. “The marriage didn’t work. It wasn’t right to force something so important, like it was a joke. So we’re divorcing because I--” He swallows. “I’m gay.” His heart is pounding, blood rushing in his ears. He’s been officially out for a month now, though only a handful of people know. It’s still such a new thing, voicing what’s been inside him as long as he can remember, and the rush of terror has yet to subside.
“Oh, my--” There’s so much feeling packed into those two words, so much gentleness and aching sympathy. “Is that why you’ve come here today?”
“Yes,” Owen admits. He hates himself for letting the urge to cry take over. “Yes. I’ve tried to change-- I’ve tried to be who I’m supposed to be-- if I wasn’t so weak, maybe... I don’t know what to do. Please, I don’t know what to do anymore. I want to be a good man. I want to be the man God wants me to be. But I can’t and I can’t keep lying. It was killing me, actually killing me from the inside out, but I want-- I want to do the right thing.” He cuts off, dropping his head into his hands as the tears begin to flow freely.
“Please,” the priest interrupts. “Please, no more of that. I can’t listen to such hogwash.”
“I--” He’s surprised to hear this, never once thinking that he’d be immediately condemned and abandoned. “I’m sorry, I--”
The priest is forceful as he continues, “You’re wrong. There’s no way to sugarcoat it or sidestep around it and I apologize, but I refuse to. You want to be the man you’re supposed to be? The man that God means for you to be? Well, you are.”
“I-- I don’t--”
“Oh, I know. it’s an unpopular opinion in the Church. It goes against the official teachings and perhaps I’m the one in the wrong for disregarding that. But the world is changing and it would be foolish for the Church to not join it.” There’s a hint of a shadow leaning toward the window, and the priest’s voice lowers. “God has made you to love. He’s made you to care for your fellow man in his name. God and his word may be infallible, but fallible man is the one deciphering them. To think that who you are-- who the Lord has created you to be-- is inherently sinful and wrong is an idea that I can’t abide.”
Owen is stunned. For a minute or more, his mind is blank and his heart seems to stop. Eventually, he manages, “Do you mean that?”
“Yes,” the Father insists. “I mean every word. You’re serving the Lord when you’re true to yourself. No merciful and loving deity-- as we know God to be-- would damn his children for loving. Hate is not part of His plan.” He hesitates. “If I’m in the minority for my views, I don’t expect that will always be so.”
He’s crying still, possibly even harder than before, but the sudden loosening of tension in his chest borders on blissful. “I-I don’t know that I can believe that. A lifetime of knowing one thing--”
“Then you try. Be open with yourself and your loved ones, and try. Being homosexual and devout do not have to be conflicting concepts.” The priest’s voice softens. “For my sake-- for your sake-- try.”
“Thank you,” Owen whispers. “I can’t-- thank you.” He’s suddenly reminded of all those years ago, when a young, terrified boy sat before another man of God and had his greatest fears confirmed. He knows, rationally, that this man is right, knows that these are the doubts he’s had all along, but part of him resists. Maybe, in time... “I promise. I’ll try.”
“That’s all anyone can ask. You owe it to yourself.”
As Owen steps out onto the sidewalk and heads for the parking garage, he remembers the carefree and excited expression on Elizabeth’s face as she told him about how a strange man flirted with her in the grocery line. And he decides, then and there, that he wants that.
That he’ll have it, no matter how difficult the journey.
***
Challenge: Licorice 20. The cheese stands alone
Extra: Sprinkles, fresh fruit: blueberries, fresh fruit: pineapple
Word Count: 4,020
Rating: G
Story: Polyfaceted; the title of this story is Faithfully Yours.
Summary: Three separate events in Owen’s life, spanning just over fifteen years, in which he struggles to balance his faith with his personal life.
Notes: This takes place in 1979, 1986, and 1997. Owen is an extremely legitimate minor character, known for being one of Eva and Adamo’s adoptive fathers. All of this takes place well before that, though.
***
South Carolina 1979
Owen is fifteen-and-a-half when he smuggles the family phonebook into his room. Wesley’s gone for the afternoon, at some practice or study group or something, thank God, and he has the entire second floor to himself for a few hours. He doesn’t have the nerve to write the number down, and instead repeatedly chants it to himself until he’s sure he has it memorized.
These days, with only Wesley and Jennifer still living at home, it’s much easier for Owen to creep through the house unnoticed. His father spends most of his time at the hospital and Jennifer’s barely come downstairs ever since Mary moved out and left her the attic bedroom. He thinks his mother is at some church fundraiser or something, but he’s cautious enough to make the effort to stretch the phone cord across the kitchen and make the call from inside the pantry.
The woman who answers reminds him of his grandmother and for a moment, Owen almost loses his nerve and hangs up. It’s only the thought of his friends’ earlier mocking that forces him to barge ahead, and by the end of a mostly painless conversation, he has an appointment to see Father Kenneth that coming Saturday.
It doesn’t take much to convince Mary to give him a ride to Chesterberg, even if it is on the other side of the county. She’s always been indulgent with Owen, not that that’s why she’s his favorite sister, and after her offers to pay for gas, she agrees. It nearly drains his entire allowance savings, paying for Mary to drive all the way from the college only to cart him around and then return, but it’s worth it. Especially when she buys his flimsy excuse about researching an article for the school paper.
St. Anthony’s is a small church, located off Main Street. Owen notes that it’s smaller than St. Seraphina and in a slightly worst state of disrepair-- it probably has a smaller congregation and as the last thing he wants is to run into someone he knows, he’s pleased. He has an easy time finding the office and after a quick exchange with the secretary, he’s ushered through a door and introductions are made.
“Father Kenneth?” Owen asks, striding forward and holding out a hand. He’s determined to tackle this head on, even if his knees are shaking. “I’m Owen Caddell. I-I called a few days ago? About making an appointment to talk to you?”
Father Kenneth is an older man, not quite elderly, but not far from it. Hearing this, he firmly grasps Owen’s hand and peers over the rim of his glasses. “You’re Mr. Caddell? I was expecting someone older.”
Owen flushes. “I’ll be sixteen in a few months.”
“Hmm.” Father Kenneth drops his hand, motioning to the seat across his desk and dismissing the secretary. Once the door closes, he wastes no time. “It’s nice to see a young man like yourself taking such an active interest in his faith. That’s rare among young people these days, don’t you agree? Most seem content to just leave religion until they’ve grown up and settled down.” He doesn’t pause, ignoring any half-formed replies. “What can I do for you? I can’t say I’ve seen you at Mass. Thinking of converting?”
“What? Oh, um, no. My family goes to St. Seraphina. I was christened there. As a baby, I mean. I’ve been Catholic all my life. I mean--” Owen mentally curses himself for getting so flustered. “I just, um. I wanted to talk to someone who doesn’t know me. I hope it’s okay, since I don’t attend--”
“No, no, that’s fine.” Father Kenneth waves a hand, dismissing his concerns. “A member of the flock is a member of the flock, no matter where he worships. How may I help?”
Owen’s heart begins to pound. This is it, no turning back. “Um, I think I need help. There’s some stuff... I need help. I-I’m trying to be a good Catholic, do the right thing, but there’s some... stuff.”
“I see.” Father Kenneth leans in. “If you’d like to make a confession, son, we can take this into the sanctuary.”
“No!” Owen says quickly. “No, I haven’t done anything yet. Just some thoughts and stuff like that. I-I just want to know how to be good. How to do what God wants me to do. I mean, I know what the Bible says about this, but then I remember that if God made me in his own image, he must have done this on purpose, and maybe I’m supposed to be like this. I just...” He raises his head, blinking back tears. “I just don’t know.”
“Son?” The priests voice is gentle, soft and soothing. “What is it we’re talking about here?”
“IthinkImightbegay,” Owen spits out, whispering. There’s no response to this and for a moment, he thinks that maybe he wasn’t loud enough to be heard. Terrified of having to say it again, having to repeat this horrible thought he’s only ever muttered to himself in the dark of night, he glances up and catches sight of the hard look in the Father’s eyes.
“Oh.” Father Kenneth straightens, leaning back in his chair. Gone is the kind, old uncle-figure, replaced by a cold, distant Servant of God. “Well.” He coughs. “This is serious. Serious indeed. You understand what sort of corrupt deviance you’re toying with, don’t you?”
Miserable, Owen merely nods.
“Good. Have you prayed for forgiveness? Asked the Lord to... cure this affliction?”
“Yes.”
“This is a very serious matter, not something to ignore until later,” Father Kenneth scolds as if he hadn’t heard. “Once you go down that road, it’s impossible to come back to the grace of the Lord. One momentary lapse in diligence and you may find yourself beyond help or recovery. Have you made a full confession?”
“No,” Owen admits, unable to raise his eyes. “I was- I was frightened. I thought if I prayed, asked for forgiveness-- I haven’t acted on anything. Maybe, if they were only thoughts, then God--”
“Immoral fantasies are no less immoral than actions,” Father Kenneth sternly informs him. “You must confess before you can begin to seek absolution.”
Owen bites his lip, hesitating. “If- if it’s unholy, Father, why would God make me feel like this?” He’s on the verge of crying, fighting it with every drop of self-control that he can muster. “Why would He let this happen?”
“God may test and tax us, but he will never give us more than we can handle. Faith is strengthened through trials, Mr. Caddell. You must always remember your faith and devotion.” Father Kenneth stands. “Come along. Until you confess and ask for forgiveness, you will never be free from damnation.”
Owen nods, slowly rising to follow. He inconspicuously swipes away a tear or two, mumbling, “And then?”
“And then?” Father Kenneth repeats. “And then you will devote yourself to prayer and holy pursuits. In the meantime, I’m sure we can find a suitable and discreet rehabilitation program for you to join. Diligence and devotion will pave your way to a virtuous life. Mark my words, boy, we’ll rid you of this no matter what it takes.”
When Owen finally rejoins Mary in front of Chesterberg’s town hall, nearly two hours have passed. His eyes are bloodshot, complexion blotchy, and his breath is coming in shallow shudders. Thankfully, his sister ignores this, and drives him home in blissful silence.
***
Massachusetts 1986
In his junior year of college, Owen proposes to Elizabeth. They’ve been dating since they were sixteen, best friends for over a decade prior to that, so it comes as no surprise to their family or friends. If anything, everyone is impatient that they waited so long.
Their relationship has its problems, he knows this. If anything, they probably have more problems than most couples, especially when it comes to intimacy. But Elizabeth is his best friend, the only person to know him nearly as well as he does, and he loves her deeply, as best as he can.
After nearly a month of counseling with Father Kenneth, around the time that the shadow of rehabilitation camp began to loom over his head, Owen deserted the effort and never looked back. If prayer and therapy sessions weren’t enough, then he would just have to accept his flaws and try to live his life as normal as possible despite them. Having a girlfriend and proposing marriage was what normal boys did and who would make a better wife than Elizabeth?
They set the date for after graduation, and the next two years fly by in a haze of classes, finals, and wedding planning. At the beginning of his last semester, Owen receives an offer for a paid internship from a prominent paper in Massachusetts. It’s grunt work and no better than a gopher position, but it’s unexpected and an incredible opportunity for advancement. Together, he and Elizabeth begin to plan a cross-country move and he gratefully finds himself too busy to even think a virtuous thought, let alone a deviant one.
They graduate without any complications and Elizabeth’s status as valedictorian is no less than anyone expects. That summer, they separate, Owen heading directly for Boston to arrange for an apartment while Elizabeth remains in South Carolina to continue planning the wedding. It’s the first time Owen’s been entirely alone, and despite running himself ragged as he juggles an upcoming move and a new job, the freedom he’s suddenly faced with is an overwhelming temptation.
Two weeks before the wedding, the night before Owen is due to return home, he can no longer handle the tension. He leaves the apartment without turning off the television or lights, desperate to escape the stifling and enclosed atmosphere for some fresh air. The walk doesn’t calm his hyperventilating, not that he actually expected it to, and before he knows it, his aimless wandering has led him into a neighborhood cathedral and directly into a front pew.
It couldn’t hurt, he decides, even if he had consciously decided to never personally acknowledge those urges he could never escape. And if there was ever a time he needed prayer, it would be now.
Father William is a priest Owen has had very little contact with. He usually performs the weekday morning Mass, exiled to a mostly administrative position with very little direct contact with the congregation. He was a nice man, mild-mannered and compassionate, but quiet enough to unnerve most members of the church.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, quickly backing away. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I didn’t think anyone was here. Excuse me.”
“No,” Owen says, half-rising and outstretching a hand to stop him. He’s surprised to hear himself say it, but immediately realizes it’s what he’s wanted this whole time. “Don’t go. Please?”
Father William nods and sinks down beside him. He waits for the end of the prayers, calm and silent. It’s probably his willingness to patiently listen that makes Owen like him so much.
“I think I’m making a mistake,” Owen finally says, breaking the silence and burying his face into his hands. “I’m so confused.” There’s no reply, but there is a sense of easy acceptance that makes him continue. “I’m new to this church. To this part of the country. I’ve been working so much, I haven’t had time to meet anyone. I don’t know who else to talk to, you see.”
“I have two ears and one mouth,” Father William tells him. “I like to think I use them to their corresponding ratio.”
Owen smiles despite himself. “If you’re sure.” He sighs, leaning back against the pew and eying the crucifix hanging over the altar. “I’m getting married in a couple weeks. She’s a great girl, I couldn’t ask for a better wife.”
“Congratulations.” Father William’s gaze fixates on one of the elaborate stained glass windows. “Though I get the feeling you feel otherwise.”
“I love her,” Owen insists. “More than anyone. She’s my best friend. We’ve been through everything together, no one knows me like she does. I’d be lost without her. I love her, I really do.”
“But you’re not in love with the young woman?”
He sighs. “No. I don’t think so. I’m not sure.”
Father William makes a noncommittal sound, lightly chewing on his lower lip. After a pause, he replies, “Then it would seem like marriage isn’t in the cards for the both of you.”
“No! It has to be.” There’s a note of rising panic in his voice and Owen turns to face the priest. He swallows, trying to calm himself before continuing. “I have to get married. I have to.”
Even though he hasn’t admitted anything, even though the exact words haven’t entered his mind in years, let alone passed his lips, there’s a look in Father William’s eyes that seems to insinuate he knows everything. “Then it seems you’re left with no alternative. If you’re set on... then yes. I think you have your answer.”
Owen looks away, miserable. “I’m afraid. I’m so terrified, Father.”
“I know.” Father William reaches across the gap between them, grasping his hand and gently squeezing. “But you’re not alone. Trust in the Lord to protect you. If you love this woman as much as you say, you’ll do right by her. No matter what that means, I know you’ll take care to look after her. You’re a good man. Focus on being a good husband and before long, it’ll be as natural as breathing to you.”
He sure doesn’t feel like a good man. But Father William is right-- he has no other option than to go through with the wedding, and he does love Elizabeth. No one could care for her like Owen does, doubts or no doubts.
***
New York 1997
Less than one year after his father’s death, Elizabeth approaches him with the very thing he’s been fearing the most-- she’s two months late and has had one positive pregnancy test. They’ve never really discussed children, though he thinks they’ve always known it would never be a possibility. It’s not that Owen doesn’t want kids-- he loves the idea and regrets the loss of the opportunity almost as keenly as one might regret a tangible loss. But after following six years of strict abstinence with one disastrous wedding night and ten years of failed sexual encounters, it’s obvious that children are not for them.
He continues to try, of course. Every so often, he forces himself to do his duty as a husband, to prove to himself that he is normal and can live the life he’s supposed to. More often than not, things are over before they can begin, and on the few occasions that he can finish, the guilt of imagining anyone other than his sweet Elizabeth sickens him until he’s unable to even attempt. It’s after one of these rare successful interludes that she breaks the news. Owen’s first thought is of Billy, the new coworker whose image he relied on to get as far as he did. His second is that their mockery of a family is no place for a child.
It turns out to be a false alarm, thankfully. But even with no immediate threat to the status quo, Owen can sense a change. He’s obsessed with his realization that their marriage is a sham, obsessed with how calm his acceptance is. An entire decade of their lives has been wasted on some failed experiment; a decade of lies, pain, and fruitless exercises, just to prove something that’s never been true.
It’s time to open his eyes to the fact that he hasn’t escaped his sins. He’s only dragged Elizabeth into them.
To Owen’s surprise, she’s the first to mention divorce. He immediately dismisses the thought-- they are devout Catholics after all-- but her kind, caring, and compassionate way of pressing the issue brings him around. They love each other of course, they always have and always will. They are each other’s best friends, closer to one another than anyone else can be. Nothing can come between them, not even a divorce, and it’s this fact that finally causes him to cave. She deserves a family that’s not a lie and if he can’t provide that for her, Owen can’t allow himself to keep her from finding something real.
The divorce process is painless and amicable. They remain as close as ever-- maybe even more so-- and Owen is surprised to be happier for Elizabeth and her freedom than he’s ever been before. When she sits him down over a homemade dinner and implores him to stop lying, to give in and stop fighting himself, over half a lifetime of misery comes pouring out. She holds him until his sobs die down, rocking him and murmuring words of comfort. That’s when Owen knows his days of denial are over and that there’s no going back.
One month later, one long, difficult, soul-searching month later, Owen enters St. Peter’s confessional and manages to greet his confessor without a waver in his voice. After the preliminary rituals, he falls silent.
“My son?” The Father is hidden and faceless, but his voice brings about the image of a young man, possibly even younger than Owen. “Did you wish to continue?”
“I--” Owen chokes, emotion thick in his throat. “I don’t even live New York, you know. I live in Connecticut. I drove all this way just so a stranger would-- I don’t know how to begin. So many years living a lie... I don’t know how to stop and start over again..”
“I find that when you start at the beginning, the rest of the tale is sure to follow.”
Owen bitterly chuckles and takes a deep breath. “The beginning. God, I think that was before I was even born. I don’t know anymore...” He imagines Elizabeth standing beside him, guiding him with the unwavering support she’s always shown. “I’m in the middle of a divorce. My wife-- my ex-wife-- cleared out the last of her belongings today. She’s really gone now, every trace of her.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Losing someone is always painful.”
“Not this time.” Owen flushes with shame. “This was easy. I’m happy for her. I’m happy that she’s moved on and started her own life. I know I should grieve over the loss of the marriage, but I can’t. I feel... weightless.”
“Hmm.” There’s a pause followed by the sound of shuffling. “I know the official stance of the Church regarding divorce isn’t--”
“That’s not it. I mean, I’m concerned about that, but it’s not the problem.” He swears he can hear Elizabeth’s voice in his ear, urging him onward. “The marriage didn’t work. It wasn’t right to force something so important, like it was a joke. So we’re divorcing because I--” He swallows. “I’m gay.” His heart is pounding, blood rushing in his ears. He’s been officially out for a month now, though only a handful of people know. It’s still such a new thing, voicing what’s been inside him as long as he can remember, and the rush of terror has yet to subside.
“Oh, my--” There’s so much feeling packed into those two words, so much gentleness and aching sympathy. “Is that why you’ve come here today?”
“Yes,” Owen admits. He hates himself for letting the urge to cry take over. “Yes. I’ve tried to change-- I’ve tried to be who I’m supposed to be-- if I wasn’t so weak, maybe... I don’t know what to do. Please, I don’t know what to do anymore. I want to be a good man. I want to be the man God wants me to be. But I can’t and I can’t keep lying. It was killing me, actually killing me from the inside out, but I want-- I want to do the right thing.” He cuts off, dropping his head into his hands as the tears begin to flow freely.
“Please,” the priest interrupts. “Please, no more of that. I can’t listen to such hogwash.”
“I--” He’s surprised to hear this, never once thinking that he’d be immediately condemned and abandoned. “I’m sorry, I--”
The priest is forceful as he continues, “You’re wrong. There’s no way to sugarcoat it or sidestep around it and I apologize, but I refuse to. You want to be the man you’re supposed to be? The man that God means for you to be? Well, you are.”
“I-- I don’t--”
“Oh, I know. it’s an unpopular opinion in the Church. It goes against the official teachings and perhaps I’m the one in the wrong for disregarding that. But the world is changing and it would be foolish for the Church to not join it.” There’s a hint of a shadow leaning toward the window, and the priest’s voice lowers. “God has made you to love. He’s made you to care for your fellow man in his name. God and his word may be infallible, but fallible man is the one deciphering them. To think that who you are-- who the Lord has created you to be-- is inherently sinful and wrong is an idea that I can’t abide.”
Owen is stunned. For a minute or more, his mind is blank and his heart seems to stop. Eventually, he manages, “Do you mean that?”
“Yes,” the Father insists. “I mean every word. You’re serving the Lord when you’re true to yourself. No merciful and loving deity-- as we know God to be-- would damn his children for loving. Hate is not part of His plan.” He hesitates. “If I’m in the minority for my views, I don’t expect that will always be so.”
He’s crying still, possibly even harder than before, but the sudden loosening of tension in his chest borders on blissful. “I-I don’t know that I can believe that. A lifetime of knowing one thing--”
“Then you try. Be open with yourself and your loved ones, and try. Being homosexual and devout do not have to be conflicting concepts.” The priest’s voice softens. “For my sake-- for your sake-- try.”
“Thank you,” Owen whispers. “I can’t-- thank you.” He’s suddenly reminded of all those years ago, when a young, terrified boy sat before another man of God and had his greatest fears confirmed. He knows, rationally, that this man is right, knows that these are the doubts he’s had all along, but part of him resists. Maybe, in time... “I promise. I’ll try.”
“That’s all anyone can ask. You owe it to yourself.”
As Owen steps out onto the sidewalk and heads for the parking garage, he remembers the carefree and excited expression on Elizabeth’s face as she told him about how a strange man flirted with her in the grocery line. And he decides, then and there, that he wants that.
That he’ll have it, no matter how difficult the journey.
***