“You mean I’m gay?”Jem turned to Tean.“Does he mean I’m gay?”
Tean’s mouth tightened.Then he nodded.
“Well, yeah,” Jem said.“I mean, I introduced you to my boyfriend.”
“That’s not a helpful way of thinking about it,” Gerald said.“I’m this.I’m that.It’s a label.It puts you in a box.You’re a child of God, son.You’re more than the temptations you struggle with.”He leaned back like he’d made a point and said, “That’s one of the things we’ll work on, learning how to talk about these struggles more productively.We call it reframing.You don’t say, ‘I’m gay.’You say, ‘I struggle with same-sex attraction.’That puts you on the Lord’s side, because you’re struggling, and He is a faithful helper.”
“Uh huh,” Jem said.And he looked at Tean again, then back at Brigitte and Gerald.“I’m kind of confused.I already know I’m gay.It’s not a problem.Not to get too into it, but Ilikebeing gay.Like, it’s kind of my thing.”
“Jem,” Tean said softly.But then he stopped and turned his face down.
“What am I missing?”Jem said.“What’s going on?”
“We want to be a family,” Brigitte said.The words had a metallic brightness, and she didn’t quite look at anybody; she seemed to be studying a breadbasket.“A forever family.And that means keeping the commandments.”
“Okay, well, I’m not Mormon, so that doesn’t really apply.”
“Gerald has helped a lot of young men,” Brigitte said.“It’s one of his spiritual gifts.He heals them of these urges.They go on to live happy, normal, healthy lives.”
“I have a happy, normal, healthy life.I mean, not if we’re going to get into the cholesterol stuff, not if you get Tean going about how many sausage-egg-and-cheese biscuits I can eat in one sitting.”But no one laughed.Brigitte was still staring at the breadbasket.Tean was fixed on his napkin.Gerald, still leaning back in his seat, was giving him a frown like he was a nice guy in a bad spot, like he was a dad who had to be tough and stern but he didn’t always like it.“I’m sorry,” Jem said, “but what the fuck is going on?”
“Excuse me,” Gerald said stiffly, “but I find that kind of language offensive.Now, I work with a select group of young men.I’m inviting you to let me help you experience the healing power of Christ’s Atonement.”Gerald leaned forward, and his voice softened.“You don’t have to live this half-life.You don’t have to be a victim of your addictions and desires.”
“He’s not addicted to anything,” Tean said.Jem had to glance over, because he barely recognized Tean’s voice.Tean gripped his napkin so tightly it looked like he was trying to tear it in half.“He doesn’t need any help.He doesn’t need to be cured.There are decades’ worth of research on the ineffectiveness—thecounter-effectiveness—of conversion therapy.It’s barbaric.It’s cruel.And it doesn’t work.”
“There is no one who hates God’s work,” Gerald said with a dark glance at him, “as much as someone who once was blessed with the light of Christ and then denied the Holy Ghost.”
“Hey,” Jem said, “you don’t get to talk to him like that.”
“Jeremiah—” Brigitte said.
“How are we doing?”The waiter began refolding Maeve’s napkin, which had fallen onto her chair.“Are we ready to order?”
“We’re changing the subject now,” Jem said, voice low.
“The whole point is to help you,” Gerald said as though he hadn’t heard him.“But first, son, you have to help yourself.”
“I’m not your son.”
“Jem,” Tean whispered.His hand wrapped around Jem’s wrist.“Let’s go.”
The waiter had frozen mid-fold and was staring at them.
Jem shoved his chair back and headed for the lobby.Tean was a step behind him; Jem was vaguely aware of the doc murmuring something, but even though Jem could hear the words, he couldn’t understand them.Everything was tight.Everything was hot, closing in, crushing him.When he finally cleared the restaurant and reached the lobby’s high ceiling and cooler temperature, he took a deep breath.Then another.
A moment later, Tean was standing next to him.Worried eyes peered out at him from behind the dark glasses.
“I’m fine,” Jem said, working to loosen his collar.He laughed.It had a falling-down-the-stairs quality.And then he wasn’t laughing, and a second ticked, and another, and then more.Finally, he said in as normal a voice as he could manage, “God, that was fucked up, wasn’t it?”
The dark eyes looked even more worried.
“Jeremiah!”Brigitte emerged from the restaurant at a trot, probably as close to a run as she could manage in the heels.She glanced around the lobby, and her gaze settled on them.“Jeremiah, wait!”
Jem tried not to groan.Tean’s hand slipped into his, and he clamped down on it.
When Brigitte reached them, she said, “Jeremiah, I’m so sorry.That was Gerald’s idea; he insisted.I don’t care if you’re gay.I really don’t.”
Tean shifted his weight, but the doc didn’t say anything.
