Page 59 of Gay for Pray
Lucy waves away my protest. “Who cares? He’s gonna have to get used to it, right? And you’re already here. Besides, this way I can ride with you guys instead of Mom and Dad.”
Dad honks, making Lucy’s point for her, and Lucy shouts thatshe’s traveling with Jude and I instead. Dad doesn’t look thrilled, but he doesn’t protest, and then he’s driving away and Jude and I are…we’re going to Sunday brunch with my parents… Holy shit.
“I guess we better get going,” Jude says.
As we head back to the car, I take his hand in mine.
Chapter Thirty-One
Jude
NEVER IN MY LIFE did I think I’d go to “Sunday brunch,” but here I am, and with a deacon of all people.
Theo’s parents sit across from us at the only slightly sticky diner table. Lucy is next to me. The second Theo and I arrived, she rushed ahead of us, then patted the seat beside her with more authority than a teenager should be allowed to possess. Placed between her and her brother, I feel like a suspect in an interrogation room, though I’m not sure if either of Theo’s parents count as the “good cop” here. They’re both watching me warily, as though I might burst into showtunes and whip out a Pride flag any second.
“I ordered blueberry waffles,” Theo’s mother says into the awkward silence. “Your favorite. But, um…” Her eyes slide to me. “I wasn’t sure…”
“We’ll share,” Theo says.
For an instant, Theo’s father’s mouth tenses as though he wants to comment on this, but he says nothing, and the topic shifts to school. Theo is a ball of tension beside me, like a tightrope strung too taut, but he loosens up a little as he describes our philosophy project in more detail than we had time for outside the church.
“It was meant as a group project, so in the end that’s what we did,” he concludes.
He looks right at his father as he says that, and my chestswells with pride. I know what it costs him to face down his dad like this. After all, that man nearly screwed up our project and our grades just to tear us away from each other during something as innocent as a homework assignment.
“What did your professor have to say about that?” Mr. Walsh says.
“We haven’t gotten our final grades yet, but she pulled us aside after class and said she was really pleased with our presentation,” Theo says.
I sneak my hand onto his thigh under the table, giving him a squeeze that I hope says, “Good job, babe.” He’s absolutely fearless in the face of his father’s tense expression, and God, it’s so sexy to watch himfinallystand up for himself. All these years of hunching and hanging his head, yet today he sits up tall and proud, his shoulders back and chin lifted. I’d tackle him right here in this diner if it wouldn’t undo all his hard work.
“Well, isn’t that wonderful?” Mrs. Walsh says. She shoots her husband a look as though seeking confirmation, then apparently decides to barrel on while he sits frozen. “It sounds like you’re doing really well this semester, Theodore.”
Theo relaxes a tick as his mother diffuses some of the tension. “I hope so,” he says. “We’ve only just reached midterms, but I’ve been working hard.”
“Of course you have,” Mrs. Walsh says fondly. “You’ve always been an excellent student.”
“Keep your grades up,” his father adds gruffly.
I take even that rumbling murmur as a positive sign. The guy is talking, and he isn’t kicking us out of the diner. In fact, as we switch to talking about the choir, the man very nearly unclenches his jaw.
“You both sing, right?” Lucy says to push the conversation that direction.
I jump in to help Theo out. “Yeah, I was in my high school’stheater club, so I’ve been singing for a while, though I’ll admit a church choir is a new experience. It’s fun learning a completely different type of music though.”
“That must be quite an…enriching experience,” Mrs. Walsh says.
Her reaction makes me worry I’ve revealed too much of my heathen ways, but I push on. “It has been, actually. I wasn’t sure what to expect when I auditioned for the liturgical choir, but it’s been a ton of fun. And man, the acrostics in that church. I mean, you heard it for yourselves, but it’s seriously incredible.”
Mrs. Walsh actually smiles, and it doesn’t even seem forced. “It’s a gorgeous building. What a privilege to perform and practice there.”
“It really is,” I say sincerely.
I shoot a look Theo’s way, not pretending not to smile as fondness wells up in my chest. If it’s a bit too much, I don’t find out because our meals arrive to interrupt the moment. Theo slides his plate of blueberry waffles between us, offering me a fork so we can share his meal. I hesitate, thinking this might be too far, but he meets my gaze and gives me a slight nod, and I’m hungry enough after sitting through Mass to dig in. We’ve already come this far. What’s a little waffle-sharing between boyfriends?
The meal stymies the conversation, but everything has gone so well this morning that I take a swing. Besides, I really want these people to understand what an incredible son and brother they’ve got.
“Speaking of the choir, I’m sure you all know this already,” I say, “but Theo’s voice is…well, it’s pretty darn amazing. I’ve never heard anything like it, and I’ve been around theater kids basically my whole life.”
