Page 79 of Untouchable

"My family didn't knowI was gay until 2006,” Harp says. “When Gil found out, it was during a time when he was confused and questioning, and he knew he couldn't talk to the rest of the family about it. So out of the blue, he wrote me an email.”

He wonders how much more is appropriate to say. Something reckless tells him to lay more out there, and like a boulder rolling down a hill, Harp seems unable to fight the momentum now.

"It was a perfect storm of us needing each other. I'd just gotten through a divorce and the whole world hated me. Then I get this earnest email from my kid brother who I barely know, telling me he thinks I'm alright and he doesn't care what the family says about me and that he needs my help. I needed someone to need me. We really saved each other, I guess."

It's a sad memory but Harp is smiling. He really is proud of Gil and all he's become.

Parker cocks his head.

“You were married?”

When did I say I was married?Harp wonders suddenly. He certainly hadn't meant to bring up that piece of his life with Parker, and he scans the last few things he'd said. Oh Christ, the divorce.

"Yeah, for about ten years. My high school sweetheart. You can imagine how those things tend to turn out," Harp says. He holds up a hand to make it clear that this isn't a big deal, isn't something that's even a little interesting. "It was a lifetime ago. She's great, and we're obviously better off."

“Did you not know you were gay at first?” Parker asks.

And here it is: the familiar narrative of the poor, misguided, closeted gay boy growing up in the South who simply doesn't know any better.

Harp hates it because it's the opposite of true. He'd known exactly what he was doing to Cherry and he'd been too much of a coward, a loser, to face it.

As much as he doesn't want to talk about her or any of the stupid choices he'd made—this is a topic he hates talking about almost as much as talking about Walt—he'd stolen the first half of this poor woman's life and lost his best friend in the process, and Harp can't let Parker move forward in his understanding of Harp—with this misconception that he was ever an innocent, foolish kid.

"I didn't know I was gay for a long time, but my marriage wasn't like you're thinking," Harp says. "I did the wrong thing for her and I knew exactly what I was doing."

He stops for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to say that he's done talking about this. He's not mad at Parker—of course it's something he'd be curious about. How does a man go from a ten-year marriage with a woman to gay, out, and living alone on Blowjob Mountain?

* * *

Parker’s browfurrows as he thinks about Harp, growing up in a conservative area, knowing this truth about himself but unable to live it. It hadn’t taken long for Parker to realize his own sexuality, but there had been two painful years at the start of high school when he’d hoped he could somehow change this about himself, had been convinced this would be the nail in the coffin in terms of trying to win any affirmation from his cold parents.

He reaches across the table and puts his hand on top of Harp’s, looking at him intently.

“You don’t need to beat yourself up about it,” Parker says. “If I hadn’t grown up in someplace liberal like Colorado, I’d probably be married with kids by now.” He pulls a ridiculous face at the thought, trying to lighten the moment.

Harp pulls his hand back without thinking. His reaction is unfiltered.

"No. You wouldn't. Because you're not a piece of shit."

Parker flinches as Harp jerks back from him violently.

“You’re not a piece of shit—” Parker says. He’s overwhelmed with the need to comfort Harp, to return some of the affirmation and encouragement Harp had given him last night. “Like, yeah, it’s not great but you’re hardly the first gay person to get married to hide it—”

"It wasn't that simple. It isn't. And if you knew what it was, you wouldn't have offered to be my friend yesterday," Harp says. His voice has a hard edge, and Parker can feel the first tendrils of anxiety snaking around his heart. Harp stands, grabbing his half-eaten plate and taking it to the kitchen to clear it. Parker stands to follow him.

* * *

"Please, finish your meal,"Harp says. "I'm not trying to be dramatic. I'd just like a cigarette and fresh air for a minute. I'll come right back."

As Harp fumbles in his pockets for his cigarettes and lighter, he realizes his hands are shaking. He hadn't meant to be so honest with Parker.

His heart is pounding so hard he can barely hear himself talk and his throat feels tight.

* * *

Parker sits obediently,but as soon as the door closes behind Harp, he realizes this isn’t how he wants this conversation to go. He flings open the door, not even bothering to pull on a coat or shoes.

“Harp—” he says, and Harp turns around, looking surprised Parker had followed him. “I’m sorry if I touched a nerve or something. But, you know, you’re the kindest, most generous person I’ve ever met, and I’m glad you’re my friend, and you don’t get to decide that. Ido.”

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