Gay Amish 03 - A Way Home

“Do I look okay?”

As Isaac glanced at Aaron, he stepped in a pile of slush that soaked straight through his sneaker. It was the end of April, but the vestiges of winter still clung to northern Minnesota, and melting snowbanks dotted the hospital parking lot. Aaron stopped and smoothed a hand down his jacket. It was a nice raincoat—the color of red wine, fitted with buttons down the front—but they both knew it didn’t matter.

Still, Isaac nodded. “You look great.”

Aaron tried to smile. “Thanks.” He pushed back a lock of blond hair that had crept over his forehead, and pushed a button to lock the doors on the salt-stained sedan he’d rented at the airport.

The truth was that Aaron could be wearing his fanciest suit, but the only way to please their parents was if he donned plain clothes again—clothes that followed the rules of the
Ordnung
down to the very last detail. Isaac wasn’t wearing Amish clothes either, and he realized it would be the first time his parents would see him in English jeans and a hoodie. His green raincoat was thin, and he shivered, wishing he had gloves.

Maybe he should have changed into his Amish clothes after all. Mother and Father would hate to see him like this, but he’d wanted to…what? Make a statement, he supposed. But what was he really saying? Was it brave to spit in his parents’ faces and turn his back on his heritage? Or cruel?

Isaac tugged at his sleeves and scuffed his rubber toe across the wet concrete. Driving from Minneapolis had taken longer than he’d expected, and it would be dark soon. If he asked Aaron to go back to June’s now so he could change, the nurses might not even let him see Nathan by the time they returned.

They stood by the car, breath clouding the damp, wintry air, and stared at the gray and beige concrete block that was the hospital. The glass doors of the emergency room
swished
open and shut as a nurse in blue scrubs came out. She lit a cigarette as she walked away from the door, joining a man in a wheelchair with a metal pole holding a plastic bag towering over him. The nurse exhaled a cloud of smoke and rubbed her arms.

“I guess we should go inside.” Aaron stared at the doors with hunched shoulders.

“Yeah.”

Neither of them moved. They’d been so desperate to get to Minnesota after the nurse had called. Mother and Father refused to come on the line, and she could only tell them so much. Nathan had cancer. He probably needed some kind of transplant. Could they be tested?

Now, standing in the slushy parking lot of the hospital under a gray slate sky, Isaac felt just as far away as he had in San Francisco.
Nathan has cancer.
The terror that his brother would die before Isaac could see him again had driven him here as though he were a horse kicked by a merciless rider. Not being able to speak to Nathan or their parents had been torture.

Yet now that he and Aaron had arrived, Isaac’s stomach churned. A vision of blood soaking into the fresh white snow filled his mind, and David’s voice echoed.

“I must repent or my mother will die. Everyone I love will pay for my sins. You need to stay far away from me.”

Isaac swallowed hard over a swell of emotion. They’d come so far together, but somehow not far enough. David hadn’t answered his calls and texts about Nathan. Why hadn’t he? The ache to have David by his side burned hollowly in Isaac’s chest. Isaac had been so afraid not to come back to Minnesota straight away, and now he couldn’t face actually going inside. He itched to clutch David’s hand and feel his warm, solid strength.

“David’s coming tomorrow.”

Isaac blinked at his brother, his pulse jumping.
Was I talking out loud?
“What?”

Aaron held up his phone. “Jen’s taking him to the airport first thing. The redeye was booked, but he’ll be in Minneapolis by early afternoon.”

The surge of sweet relief was tempered by dark tendrils of disappointment and hurt. He wished he could scrub his brain and erase the image of David in that place. The image of Clark touching him.
Kissing
him. Kissing
his
David! Isaac’s mind whirled uselessly. “Oh.”

Aaron’s eyebrows shot up. “
Oh
? That’s it? Okay, tell me what happened. I know you don’t want to, but before we go in there and deal with all…
that
, we need to deal with this. Spill it. What did you guys fight about?”

Sighing, Isaac jammed his hands in his coat pockets. His face flushed, and he wasn’t sure if it was with anger or embarrassment. “He kissed someone else,” Isaac mumbled. He hated even saying the ugly words.

“
What
?” Aaron’s jaw opened and closed. “Are you serious? Of course you’re serious—forget I said that. What happened?”

Isaac kept his gaze on a scattering of rock salt. “I saw them kissing at the dance club. David didn’t think I’d be there, but I got a fake ID. I was going to surprise him.” He laughed hollowly. “Didn’t turn out how I expected.”

“I… Wow. I really can’t believe this. It doesn’t seem like David at all. He’s so in love with you. I mean, when he looks at you little cartoon hearts spring out of his eyes.”

“Really? You think so?” Isaac blinked rapidly to fight impending tears, and breathed carefully. “Then why? I guess Clark has something I don’t,” he muttered.

“
Clark
?” Isaac nodded, and Aaron pressed his lips together. “I can’t believe this. I’m going to kill him. Both of them! What did David say?”

“He said Clark kissed him like I saw, and that he tried to get away from him, but Clark followed. I saw them go into the bathroom together. David says nothing happened. ” Isaac inhaled through the wave of nausea. “But I know what people do in there.”

Aaron’s gaze narrowed. “Wait—David says nothing really happened?”

“I want to believe him, but…I can’t get it out of my head, seeing them together. It makes me so angry and…sick. Sick to my stomach. I should have known. I heard Clark say that he was going to get David into bed the first night we met him.”

Jaw clenched, Aaron shook his head. “Well, that I can certainly believe. I love Clark, but he can be a selfish ass sometimes. But David? I don’t know. He’s never struck me as a liar, Isaac.”

“But we lied to our families and everyone we knew for months. We’re
still
lying to them.” He jabbed his finger toward the hospital. “I’m going to go in there and
lie
. Because it’s bad enough I betrayed God and my community by leaving. But if they found out who I really am? It would be over for good. No visiting. No letters. Nothing.”

Aaron sighed. “Isaac, when was the last time you got a letter? The only way they’ll ever let you back in their lives is if you repent your evil, worldly ways, come home, and join the church. Whether or not they know you’re gay won’t really matter in the end. Yes, you’re right—if they find out, they’ll turn away from you. Right now you’re not shunned like I am, but you’ll never have a real relationship with them. Not unless you go back and do everything they want. Give up everything you have. Everything you
are
.”

It was all true, but Isaac still shook his head. “I can’t tell them the truth. They can’t ever know.”

“I’m not suggesting you should march in there and come out.” Aaron took Isaac’s shoulders gently. “Just that you should think about how far you’re willing to go to keep that shred of hope alive. How much of yourself you’re willing to give up, and for what? Maybe a letter or two a year if you’re lucky?”

“It’s better than nothing,” Isaac whispered.

Aaron smiled sadly. “Maybe. And yes, you’re right that you and David have lied about who you are, and the truth of your relationship. But don’t hold that against him now. It’s not fair. Hear him out. Has he ever lied to you before?”

“No. I don’t know. I don’t think so. How am I supposed to know?” That was what dug into him the most with sharp, angry edges—that he wasn’t sure of anything now. Had David lied to him in the past? Isaac’s heart said no, but maybe he was fooling himself?

“I know you’re hurt and angry, and you have every right to be. Just don’t make any big decisions right now. Whatever happens in the end, I support you, but don’t give up on your relationship with David without really talking with him. He’s a good person. You both are. You can work through this. I know you can.”

He nodded. Part of him wanted to tell Aaron that David had apparently been lying about drinking as well, but the words wouldn’t come. He didn’t have a clue what to think about that. About any of it. He wanted so desperately to believe David had never wanted anything to happen with Clark, but he didn’t want to be…what was the word Chris had used?
A chump.
It was as though Isaac’s feeling were a big pot of stew inside him, stirring and stirring and stirring. It wouldn’t be long until it all overflowed.

In his pocket, his phone buzzed. Heart in his throat, Isaac pulled it out and read the words on the screen.

I will be there soon. I love you.

He exhaled shakily, the jagged edge of his panic dulling as warmth flowed through him. As hurt as he was, he knew David truly loved him. If that made him a chump, so be it. There was so much he wanted to say, but it would have to wait. It was better to talk in person, especially since David barely knew how to use his phone even after months.

“I guess we really should get in there.” Aaron blew out a long breath. “It’s easy to give you advice, but not so easy to take it myself. I know I shouldn’t get my hopes up. They might not even look at me, let alone talk to me. God, it’s been so long. Almost ten years now. Hard to believe, isn’t it? Seeing them again, it’s…terrifying. But exciting too.”

Isaac squeezed Aaron’s arm. “I’m here. We’ll do it together.”

On the other side of the lot, a large delivery truck rumbled away, revealing a horse and covered buggy hitched to a light post. Isaac’s heart skipped a beat as he recognized old Roy right away. He thought of dear Silver, and hoped he’d see her again soon. Looking at the buggy, it hit home—Mother and Father were really inside, and so was Nathan. His little brother was in there, lying in a bed not knowing if he’d live or die, and here Isaac was worrying about himself.

Without another word, they hurried across the lot, almost in a run by the time the glass doors
swooshed
open to admit them to whatever might wait inside.

#

Although he was used to electricity now, the florescent lights of the hospital still seemed too bright. The gray floors were the same, and as he and Aaron took the elevator to the third floor and walked down a long hallway, Isaac’s sneakers squeaked. He looked at the numbers as they passed, his heart beating harder as they got closer. A familiar dark-skinned woman in green scrubs walked out of a room and scribbled something on a chart before popping it in its plastic holder on the wall.

She glanced up and smiled brightly. “Isaac? Is that you?”

He managed a smile. “Yes. Hello. This is my brother, Aaron.”

“Hi.” Danielle extended her hand to Aaron before squeezing Isaac’s arm. “Wow. You look different.”

“I guess I do.” Isaac glanced around uneasily. “You look different too.” He waved his hand in the general direction of her belly.

“Yep.” She laughed and patted her flat stomach. “Had a little girl a few months ago. I’ll bore you with pictures later.” Her smile faded. “I’m glad you both could come.”

“How is he?” Aaron asked.

“Hanging in there. They’re testing everyone in the family to see if there’s a match, but no luck so far. If you can donate bone marrow that could help him a lot. Nathan’s sleeping, so I’m afraid you can’t talk to him right now. He had some more tests, and he’ll be out for the rest of the night, probably. We’ll get your samples to send to the lab at the Mayo for HLA typing after you say hi to your parents.”

Say hi.
She made it sound so easy. Isaac wasn’t sure what HLA meant, but didn’t bother asking. As long as it could help Nathan get better, that was all that mattered. “He’s feeling all right?”

She grimaced. “I’m not going to lie—he’s in pain. He’s doing a course of high-dose chemo and radiation. It’s tough.”

Isaac wasn’t quite sure what those things were, but before he could ask, Mother appeared in a doorway near the end of the hall, about twenty feet away. Frozen in her tracks, she stared, and Isaac choked down a sudden sob that threatened. He wanted to run to her and have her hold him the way she did in this hospital after Mrs. Lantz’s accident, when she’d been so worried for him. Was she still worried? Did she still care? Isaac’s throat went dry, and he glanced at Aaron.

“Let me…can I talk to them for a minute?” Aaron asked. “If they’ll talk to me, that is.”

Isaac nodded, and watched him walk down the rest of the hall. How strange it was to see Aaron and Mother in the same place again.

“You’ve been staying with your brother?” Danielle smiled kindly.

“Yes. In San Francisco. He left years ago.”

“How was the trip? Was that the first time you’ve flown?”