They nodded.
“Well, I’ve been doin’ a lotta thinkin’ ’bout my life, and I figured it’s about time I shared it with y’all. Like you always say, Momma, ‘the truth will set you free.’ So this is me, sharing that I… I’m gay.”
The silence that fell was so sudden, it descended with the swiftness of his daddy’s axe chopping wood. Daddy stared at him, eyes wide. Momma gaped, so still he’d have sworn she’d been turned to stone.
Momma was the first to speak. “Gay,” she repeated heavily. Then she squinted at him. “Gay, as in homosexual?”
“Yes, Momma. I’m gay.” Tommy swallowed, heart hammering.
She glanced at his daddy, whose expression hadn’t changed one jot, then back to Tommy. “I see,” she said slowly. Her hands fidgeted in her lap, and she frowned. “Well, I… I don’t rightly know what to say. This is… unexpected.” Her gaze traveled once more to his daddy, who nodded.
Tommy breathed a little easier. He hadn’t known what to expect, but this decidedly low-key reaction definitely wasn’t it. The tightness in his chest abated.
“I think you should go to bed now, son,” his daddy said suddenly, his voice low.
Tommy blinked. It wasn’t even nine fifteen.
Daddy nodded. “You sure have given us somethin’ to think about, and we can talk more ’bout this in the morning. So why don’t you go on up to your room and get some sleep, huh?”
Momma nodded in agreement.
“Okay, Daddy.” Tommy rose to his feet, legs trembling slightly, and picked up his unfinished hot chocolate. He went over to his momma and kissed her cheek. “G’night, Momma, g’night, Daddy.”
They both gave him a quick smile, and then he left the room. He climbed the wooden stairs, his head in a whirl. In his worst moments of panic prior to this, he’d imagined his parents ranting at him, getting out the family Bible and reading passages to him, maybe even wanting him to pray with them. Of course he’d always hoped they’d react calmly, but even he was amazed by this quiet… acceptance.
Tommy got ready for bed with a considerably lighter heart. He pulled the covers up around his shoulders and turned onto his side to stare out his window at the velvet night sky, strewn with stars.
It really is gonna be okay. For the first time in weeks, he fell asleep almost instantly.
The next morning Tommy awoke late and stared at the clock in surprise.Since when does Daddy let me sleepthislate?Not that he was complaining. He’d slept like a log and felt fine. Noises filtered from downstairs, the hum of low voices. Guiltily, he sprang out of bed and pulled on his jeans and sweatshirt before hurrying into the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. There was a whole list of chores that had to be done in the mornings—feed the chickens, horses, pigs, dogs, and cattle; milk the cows; collect the eggs—and Tommy was expected to help out. Holidays or not, there was a farm to run.
He came down the stairs and straight into the kitchen in search of coffee. To his surprise, the large room was empty, but there was the buzz of voices coming from the living room. The absence of his parents was suddenly clear. The living room was reserved for when there was company.
“C’mon in here, son,” his momma called out.
Tommy rapidly combed his fingers through his hair, making sure he looked respectable before pushing open the oak door—and coming to a dead stop in the doorway.
The room was full of family.
Momma and Daddy sat on the two-seater couch in front of the window. To their right on the largest of the couches sat Mary, Dan standing at her side, his daddy, Pastor Cunningham, beside him. Next to Mary were Tommy’s grandparents. The armchairs were taken by Tommy’s Uncle Ned and his cousins, Jake and Bill, both older than him.
“What…?” Any words died in Tommy’s throat when he gazed around the room at the group of people assembled, their faces set as they regarded him in stony silence. And in that moment, any optimism Tommy had been feeling packed its bags and left the building. The quietly oppressive atmosphere in the room made his heart sink fast.
This is not gonna be goodwas probably the understatement of the year.
“Tommy,” his momma began, her voice even, “your daddy and I have spent all night prayin’ an’ thinkin’ ’bout what you shared with us yesterday, an’ we feel there are some thingswe’dlike to share too.”
“Okay,” he said slowly, swallowing. His scalp prickled, and his belly quivered. The cool scrutiny of his relatives was unnerving.Why are they all here?
“Since you’ve seen fit to choose this… lifestyle and stray from the path of righteousness, we?—”
“Now hold on a minute,” Tommy butted in, his heart racing. “This isn’t a choice, Momma. This is how I am, how I was born.”
An angry buzz rippled around the room, and his throat grew tight. Mary stared at him, wide-eyed, Dan’s hand upon her shoulder, looking for all the world like he was comforting her. Beside her, his grandparents held hands, lips narrowed.
“No one isborna homosexual, Tommy,” Pastor Cunningham interjected, stepping forward. “We are all created in God’s image, and he has some pretty specific things to say on this subject.” He held aloft a Bible.
“No offense, Pastor Cunningham,” Tommy said politely, “but if you’re about to quote from Leviticus, about a man not lyin’ with a man as with a woman, then I’ll be forced to quote a little Scripture of my own.” He pointed toward his Uncle Ned. “Or areyougonna be the one to tell my uncle here that the Bible says you can’t have tattoos? Or maybe tell my momma that accordin’ to the Bible, her sister, my aunt Jeanie, should be stoned to death ’cause she’s divorced?” All the things he’d heard in those meetings came back to him in a rush.
