Gay Amish 03 - A Way Home (4 page)

He’d stubbornly wanted to handle everything himself, but after he’d told Jen the truth, he’d felt better, not worse. She hadn’t told him he was stupid or a failure, or laughed at him. She’d been kind. After he’d said the words out loud, he wished he could make the clock go back so he could tell Isaac too. But he’d tell him now, as soon as he had the chance.

David rubbed his eyes and stretched his neck. Once Jen had realized he wouldn’t be able to get a flight until morning, she’d taken him to the hospital and hooked him up to machines for tests. Everything had been fine—he wasn’t dying after all. He tried to remember the word Jen had used for what he felt. Ah, yes.
Anxiety.
She said it could be a disorder sometimes.

“Flight attendants, please be seated for takeoff.”

His breath caught. Jen had said he was having panic attacks, and he couldn’t afford to have one now. He concentrated on inhaling and exhaling deeply and evenly the way she’d showed him.

“Don’t worry.” The man glanced up from his paperback. “This is the safest way to travel.”

David jerked out a nod as the plane turned and briefly came to a stop. He held his breath. Was something wrong? Why were they—

With more force than David could have imagined, the plane accelerated down the runway. It seemed impossible that they could go that fast, and a thrill zipped through him. English technology was so incredible and terrifying at the same time. Transfixed, David stared out the window, the lights of the runway whipping by as the engines flexed their muscles. Then, with a
thunk
, the whole plane lurched into the air. The airport was fading away, and he could see the ocean. He laughed out loud.

“See? It’s easy.” The man smiled not unkindly.

The plane shuddered with a sudden dip, and David bit back a yelp.

“It’s normal. Don’t worry.” The man chuckled. “Kid, if you’re gonna white-knuckle it all the way, I think you could use a drink.”

David realized he was gripping the arm rests, and a little part of him leapt up at the thought of a drink.
Just one to smooth out the bumps.
But he shook his head to himself. No drinks. He could do this on his own. Closing his eyes, he breathed in for five whole seconds, and then held it the same amount of time before exhaling slowly.

With a
ding
, the light with a little picture of a seatbelt above him went out. Someone got up and went to the bathroom, and the attendants bustled about. David stayed put with his seatbelt digging into his hips. But he smiled again as he peered out, marveling. A fluffy white carpet stretched out as far as he could see, the sun beaming. He couldn’t believe he was actually seeing the world from above the clouds. It looked so pure and fresh, like anything was possible.

“Can I get you a beverage?”

David turned to find the attendant in the aisle. She passed him a bag of pretzels.

“I think he could use a scotch,” the man beside David said with a smirk.

“Well, you are in the Executive Club section.” Her teeth gleamed. “Is that what you’d like?”

“No!” David realized he’d spoken too loudly, and cleared his throat. “Do you have Coke?”

Her smile didn’t waver. “Sure thing. Just twist that plastic knob there and put down your tray.”

He wasn’t hungry, but David forced himself to eat the salty snack. There was a TV in the seat in front of him, but he watched the clouds instead. He should try to sleep, but he felt like electricity was humming in him.

He wondered how Nathan was doing. Aaron had texted Jen that Nathan was “hanging in there,” which didn’t sound particularly good to David. It was hard to believe Isaac’s little brother had cancer.
Why would God let that happen?
It was a blasphemous thought, but he couldn’t help it.

David turned on his phone and scrolled through the few pictures he had. Most Isaac had texted him, and David went back to the very first one from the pier in San Francisco the day they’d rode the cable car and seen the sea lions. The bay was behind them, and they laughed in their new raincoats and haircuts, their shoulders pressed together.

Swallowing thickly, David stared at the image. Somehow he’d let things get messed up. He’d let himself get so lost. But he’d fix it. Even if it took a year for Isaac to forgive him, he wouldn’t give up. Not when they’d already sacrificed so much. At the thought of Mother and his sisters, David’s mouth went dry. He rested his phone on the tray table and gulped his Coke.

What would Mother say when he saw her? Would she even say a word? She’d lost one son to drugs and running wild, and he wasn’t sure she could ever forgive him for going into the world. Never mind if she found out he was gay. And Mary… He pressed his lips together. How it would break Mary’s heart to ever know that David and Isaac were together. She’d loved Isaac for so long.

A little voice reminded him that Isaac was gay, and that even if he’d never met David, he wouldn’t have loved Mary back.
But if he hadn’t met me, he might have married her all the same. He might never have left.
The thought sent icy dread washing over him. For either he or Isaac to have stayed and marry a woman would have made for a life of hollow misery.

At least Anna knew and didn’t condemn him. She would be his ally in Zebulon, of that he was confident. Anna wasn’t made for the Amish life. It would never fit her properly, or more accurately, she would never fit it. Of course Mother and Bishop Yoder would disagree strongly. He could just imagine Deacon Stoltzfus’s glower.

With a violent shudder, the plane dipped as if it was a buggy bumping over a pothole. David tensed, his eyes darting left and right. His seatmate didn’t seem the slightest bit concerned, and was watching a movie on his tablet with headphones in his ears.

“Just a bit of turbulence,” the attendant said, appearing in the aisle. She held out a small package of cookies and winked. “Here. Have a little treat. You’ll feel better.”

Normally he just nodded and smiled when he didn’t understand. But this time he asked, “What does that mean?”

“Turbulence? It’s to do with the air streams outside. Every so often we’ll rattle around a bit, but it’s nothing to worry about. Happens on just about every flight. We’ll be fine.”

As the plane flew on, jolting every so often, David rolled the new word around in his mind.
Turbulence
. He still tensed every time the plane shook, but after a while he was able to eat the cookies, savoring the chocolate chips. He stared at the laughing picture from the pier, wishing he could press a button like on a remote control so everything went fast until he was back with Isaac again and they were laughing once more.

#

Towing June’s little purple suitcase, David scanned the crowd. His fellow passengers surged through the glass doors, and he kept walking as he searched the hundreds of people waiting. He heart swelled as he spotted June’s familiar smile, her arm raised in a beckoning wave.

The lines around her eyes crinkled as they met in the crowd. “Hey, stranger.” She wrapped her arms around him, and David breathed in oranges. She leaned back. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

They wove their way through the endless people and rolling carts of baggage, finally escaping to a concrete parking garage with many levels. June muttered, “D-twelve” to herself, and led the way to the truck. It felt somehow like an old friend, and David was happy to climb in.

“Are you hungry? I hear they don’t really feed you on planes these days. We can stop at a roadside place once we get away from the city.”

“I don’t know if I can eat. I need to get to Isaac. Have you heard anything about Nathan?”

June reversed out of the parking spot. “I’ll tell you everything I know on the way. And you’re eating. Knowing you I bet you didn’t sleep a wink, so you’re getting a good lunch.”

David had to smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

As they exited onto the highway going north, June filled him in. David went cold all over at the news of Nathan’s chances if neither Isaac or Aaron were a match. “How are Isaac and Aaron?”

“They’re hanging in there.”

Hanging in there.
It was apparently the English term for when things were terrible and there was nothing else to do but keep going and hope it got better.

June pulled into the right lane. “There’s a place up here with all-day breakfast. Sound good? Sometimes breakfast is just what you need for lunch.”

Before long they were settled in a booth by the window facing the parking lot. Cars zipped by on the highway in the distance. Even though he hadn’t thought he could eat, David’s stomach growled at the smell of grease and toast. He had a coffee, and inhaled the bitter scent.

After they ordered, June went to the bathroom, and David listened to the chatter and
clinks
of the restaurant, the music echoing from above and the indistinct hum of conversation buzzing all around as waitresses strode down the aisles carrying large plates. Aside from visiting Gary, David hadn’t been to many restaurants. Jen and Aaron had taken them to a Japanese place that had rolls of sushi and other strange, fishy dishes that came by in little boats. It had practically been like having dinner on another planet. He’d liked the salty soy sauce, but the other flavors had been confusing.

Of course he’d never tried sushi again after that one time. David made a deal with himself that instead of his usual peanut butter sandwich, he’d get Japanese food for lunch one day when they got back to San Francisco. His stomach soured as he wondered when that would be. He hadn’t imagined coming back to Minnesota so soon.

One of the waitresses going by had bottles of beer on her tray, and David felt a pang for the comforting numbness alcohol had brought. He shook his head.

“No what?” June slid back into the booth and peeled the lid off a little plastic container of cream.

A lie sprang to his lips, but David didn’t speak it. Instead he swallowed it down and drew out the truth instead. “I was just thinking that I don’t need to have a drink to feel better.”

June looked up sharply from where she stirred a packet of sugar into her coffee. “I’ve never known you to be a drinker.”

“I wasn’t. I’m not. Not really. It’s…” He took a sip of coffee, steadying himself. “It’s hard to talk about this. I know that’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid. Talking about the tough stuff is something plenty people have trouble with. But you know you can tell me anything, hon.”

He nodded.
She won’t hate me.
“I’ve been having panic attacks. And I’d drink to feel better, or to try and stop them. Basically so I wouldn’t really feel anything.” The words hung between them, and David’s heart thumped.

June put her spoon on the side of her saucer. “Okay. Have you seen a doctor?”

David told her about Jen and the tests at the hospital. “I’m fine. I just need to…do this. Talk. To you. To Isaac. To everyone.”

She nodded. “How did you hurt your hands? Did you cut yourself?”

“I broke a bottle.” He fiddled with the little bandages. “It was an accident, I swear.”

“I believe you.”

“Thank you,” he whispered. He gulped his coffee. June seemed to be waiting for him to say more. “After we left, it wasn’t like I thought it would be. There were some things that were wonderful. But it was hard. Confusing. I wanted to protect Isaac the way I couldn’t with my mother and sisters. So I didn’t tell him how I was feeling.”

“Hmm. He said you and Aaron spoiled him.”

David’s heart stuttered. “He did? What else did he say?”
Did I spoil him? I only wanted him to be happy.

“We talked for a little while. It sounds like you both made mistakes, but you can get past this.”

“Isaac didn’t do anything wrong. It was all me.”

She shook her head. “Neither of you is perfect, David. Communication is a two-way street. Blaming yourself for everything that’s gone wrong isn’t the solution. And I’m not saying to blame him either. It’s not about blame. It’s about loving each other.”

The waitress appeared with plates of eggs, bacon, sausage, and waffles. David poked at his scrambled eggs. “I do love him. More than anything.”

“Of course you do.” June nodded at his plate. “Now eat something.”

David did as he was told. The salty meat was surprisingly good, and he realized how hungry he was. They didn’t speak for a few minutes as they ate. Memories flickered in his mind—working side by side with Isaac in the barn, wanting him so much it
hurt.
Taking him to the drive-in and finally kissing him, and how powerful it had felt coming with him for the first time—actually sharing in his wrong desires with someone else. Someone he loved and trusted.

Resolutely, David asked the question that churned his stomach alarmingly. “Did he tell you about Clark?”

June wiped her mouth with her napkin. “Who’s Clark?”

The restaurant was noisy, and David wished the jangle of too-loud music and murmur of conversations would stop. It was hard to think. “He’s Jen’s best friend. He was our friend too, or at least I thought so. I guess he’d…liked me for a while, but I didn’t realize. We went to one of those dance club places, and he kissed me. Isaac was going to surprise me. He saw us.”

June winced. “Did you kiss this Clark person back?”

The thought of Clark’s sweaty skin and his wet lips mashed against his own made David nauseous now. But he couldn’t deny that for a couple of heartbeats, he hadn’t pushed Clark away. “For a second. I was so shocked, and I’d been drinking, and…it felt good. Then I realized what was happening and I tried to leave, but he was hanging onto me, and he followed me into the bathroom.”

June sighed. “And one thing led to another?”

“What? No.” David sat up straighter. “No. I told him to stop. I told him I didn’t want that. And I didn’t. I don’t.”

“Oh, thank goodness.” She sat back. “You had me worried there for a moment.”

“But I let Clark kiss me.”

“He kissed you without your permission, and you stopped it. You didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“But…” David shuddered at the nausea that waved through him. “I don’t know if Isaac believes me. He saw us going into the bathroom, and he thinks I was taking Clark there. To do things.”