July 31, 1968
"What…why?" Tim stammered.
Shelagh felt so uncomfortable. Her heart was pounding and her stomach was in knots. It was a horribly impertinent personal question, but as soon as she saw, something just clicked. It had not ever been in her mind to wonder about Tim and Mike but suddenly it all made sense.
Tim and Mike lived in a house together, which was not unusual at all for boys their age. Men, really. But the way they lived together, cooking meals and raising rabbits and being so in tune with each other, Shelagh thought it was so obvious now that she thought of it.
"The bed," she explained nervously. "You said this is your room, and your desk and drawings are here, but no one's slept in this bed in a long time. Possibly ever."
"How do you know?" he asked. His face was pale and frightened, and Shelagh wanted to comfort him but she did not quite know how yet.
"When I moved into your father's house and he showed me to the guest room, the bed looked just like this one. He told me it hadn't been touched since it was first made up when he moved in. The sheets were stiff and there was a layer of dust on the duvet. Just like here," she told him.
Tim looked as though he was about to cry. He slunk down in the chair at his desk beside his drawings. "Shelagh…" he whispered.
She noticed that he had not answered her question, but she would not force him to say it. "I don't know how many people know, but I know Patrick doesn't. I think he'd have told me if he did."
"Dad doesn't know," Tim said, harshly.
"Don't you think he should?" she offered gently.
He looked up at her sharply. "Yes, sure, let me just tell my dad that I'm a poofter!" he snarled.
"I don't think that kind of language is necessary," she admonished softly. "But I don't think that anyone who loves you is going to be upset to know the truth about you and Mike."
Tim looked up at her curiously. "You're not upset I'm going to hell for my sins?"
"I think I'm the last person to have anything to say about the sin of loving someone that the Church tells you not to. And the same is true for your father."
Tears welled up in his eyes, and he tried to blink them away. "That's what Mike said," he replied. His voice cracked.
"Oh Tim." Shelagh stood up and went to where he sat and took him in her arms, holding him close. When he sat, he was nearly as tall as she was while standing. Certainly not the little boy she'd held a decade ago. "I know it's not been very long since I've been a part of your life again, but I do want to be. I'm sure you didn't plan on telling me this way, with me finding out like this, but I think it's important to be honest about who we are. I learned that lesson very recently, unfortunately."
Tim wrapped his lanky arms around her and hugged her tight. He was shaking with sobs, burying his face in her dress. "I'm sorry."
"Shh, no, don't be sorry, sweetheart," Shelagh comforted. She stroked his hair and leaned down to give him a gentle kiss on the top of his head. "There's nothing to be sorry for, Timothy. Everything's going to be alright."
He calmed down and pulled away a minute or so later, wiping his eyes and scrubbing his face with his hands. Shelagh brushed his hair from his face again.
"Why don't we have that cup of tea now, hmm? I think we've got a bit more to talk about," she suggested.
Tim nodded, sniffing back any lingering tears.
Shelagh held his hand and led him back down the hall to the kitchen. It all felt very much like when he was a boy, now. Only everything was so very different. She was no longer a nun, and he was no longer a boy. She was not Sister Bernadette comforting a grieving child. No, now she was Shelagh helping a man come to terms with the truth of his life.
In one hand she had her recipe books with all its marked pages. Perhaps after they talked, it would be helpful for them to go back to that, the purpose for her visit. Some normalcy, something to get his mind off his troubles. At least, she hoped they could.
Tim let go of her hand to make the tea. The kettle was ready, though thankfully they'd not left it for too long. For all the drama they'd just experienced, they had not actually been in the bedroom for long. He was quiet as he steeped the tea and got the mugs out for them both. Shelagh took her usual place at the kitchen table and waited quietly, watching him as he did the task he'd done a million times before.
Eventually, he came to sit with her and put one of the mugs in front of her. She thanked him quietly and waited for him to begin. It was not the same, of course, and Shelagh knew it was not the same, but she felt this situation was quite close to what she had experienced in going to Sister Julienne and finally confessing her feelings for Patrick and her need to leave the Order because of it. Tim's situation was not really like that, but it was the best thing Shelagh had to compare it to. And because of that, because she learned so much from Sister Julienne's warmth and kindness and serene understanding and patience, Shelagh waited for Tim to speak first.
"Mike and I are in love," he finally confessed. He spoke quietly, keeping his eyes focused on his tea while he said the words before looking to Shelagh for her reaction.
Shelagh smiled. Perhaps that surprised Timothy. But she smiled. She couldn't not smile.
"Why are you smiling?" he asked. It was almost a demand, but Shelagh did not begrudge him for it.
"It's been very recent for me, but I've come to know what a beautiful gift it is to love and be loved in return," she told him. And it was true. It had been only about a month since she and Patrick had been together properly, but it was years and years in the making.
"But it's different for you," Tim remarked somewhat bitterly. "You just had to stop being a nun and you could be with Dad and it wasn't illegal and you can get married."
Shelagh positively ached for Tim. He was entirely right. It wasn't fair that she and Patrick should have suffered and then been granted the ability to make it right. Tim and Mike did not have that luxury. Not by a long shot. "I know that you know that things haven't been easy for your father and me, but I wish there were a solution for you like there was for us. Really, I do."
"Thanks," he said softly. But his face was hard. He took another sip of his tea.
"Timothy, why haven't you told your father?"
He did not answer right away. Perhaps he was searching for a way to explain. Perhaps he did not quite know the answer at all. But he did finally say, "I didn't want to disappoint him."
"Oh you could never disappoint him," Shelagh countered.
Tim shook his head. "I'll never get married or have children. I'm all he has, Shelagh, and he'll never get to have a wedding for me and he'll never have grandchildren. Isn't that what every parent wants? And I can't give him any of that. I thought I could try, but I can't."
She did not press him further on that point. The very thought of him trying to deny himself, to force himself to find some poor girl to marry just so that he could give Patrick a wedding to celebrate and force himself to have children with her just so that Patrick could be a grandfather, that was unthinkable. She could not fathom how difficult this all must have been for Tim. "But to keep a secret like that from him must have been so hard," she sympathized.
He nodded. "He and I are so close and it's the only thing I've ever not told him."
"A rather big thing to not tell him," she said.
"Yeah." Tim took another sip of tea. "And I feel bad for Mike, too. Dad thinks he's just my housemate. He's nice to him and treats him well, but…Mike's more than just my housemate."
Tim's words from so many weeks ago rang in her ears, when he had accused her of just being Patrick's housemate because they slept in separate beds. Had this been what he'd been alluding to? Because Mike and Tim were decidedly not just housemates. Shelagh was rather certain that they were just as in love and committed to each other as she and Patrick were. "You need to tell him, Timothy," Shelagh said. "Mike deserves to be treated like a proper member of the family as he is, and your father deserves to know the truth."
"But what will he say? Shelagh, I can't just tell him," Tim replied worriedly.
"You can," she assured him. Though really, she did not know. How would Patrick react? He was a progressive sort of person, she thought. Understanding of those around him and not judgmental of those who were different. At least that was how Shelagh had always seen him. But homosexuality was not an issue they'd encountered together. She knew the view of the Church on such things, of course, though that was a view she herself did not share; since leaving the Order, Shelagh had found herself free to make up her own mind unhindered by doctrine that was dictated to her. And here and now, the young man she loved like her own child had confessed to her that he was in love with another young man who loved him in return. And whatever ideas she had about procreation and laws of nature and sacraments of marriage were irrelevant in the fact of Timothy's life and her deep desire for his happiness. Mike was a nice lad, and if they were in love and they were happy, Shelagh wanted only the best for them. In her heart of hearts, she had to believe that Patrick would feel the same. He was the man she loved, and she had to believe that he would agree. But what if he didn't? There was every chance that this was not something he would tolerate. Men could be like that. Particularly a man with only one son.
"Shelagh?"
She was interrupted from her thoughts by Tim's voice. "Yes?"
"Are you…I mean, is this all…alright? With you, I mean?"
Shelagh reached over and took his hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. She told him precisely what she'd just had in her mind a moment before. "I only want you to be happy, Timothy. I know I'm not your mother and I know I'm not married to your father yet, but I love you very much as if you were my very own, and all I want is for you to be safe and happy and loved. And are you?"
"Yes," he answered, smiling for the first time since this all began.
"Then that's all that matters," she assured him.
"Thanks," Tim said softly. He took his hand back from her and reached over to where her recipe book was sitting. "Why don't we go over some of these?"
"Oh yes, thank you. You're a much better cook than I am, and I really want to learn," she told him earnestly.
And then they settled in to their task. Shelagh brought a notebook to take down everything Tim said in answer to her questions. He was patient with her, warm and intelligent and making little jokes here and there as he patiently went through each and every little detail she asked him about.
A bit later, Mike came home for the day. Tim told Shelagh softly that he'd talk to Mike about what they'd discussed earlier. Shelagh only nodded approvingly. She now very much wanted to get to know Mike better, knowing now that he was as important to Tim as Patrick was to her.
But all of that would come in time, she knew. Everything was still so new for her. And even though she had lost out on ten years with Patrick and Timothy, she was here now. She would always be a part of their lives from now on. And it would take some time to find their way to becoming a family and learning everything about each other, but it would come. She had no doubt that it would all come in time. Somehow, they would find their way.