Part II. The Heart Knows

Lucy struggled to control the car as she navigated the freeway. Maybe I shouldn't be driving right now, she thought. But that was ridiculous; she'd only had two tiny sips of her drink. It wasn't alcohol that was confusing her, it was the conversation she'd just had, playing itself over and over again in her head.

Simon had, after all, drunk almost all of the pitcher. She'd had to drive him home. But first, they'd really talked, and many of the things he'd been keeping from her all those years had come pouring out of him at last. She heard about how he'd come to college and found that he hadn't left his problems behind in Glenoak. After months of being angry and ashamed and scared, he'd finally confided in a friend, and started talking to a local minister. Gradually, he'd found a circle of people who accepted him, and then he'd finally been able to accept himself. He'd even told her a little about boyfriends he'd had, one of whom, she realized, had been one of the fleeting friends that she met on a previous visit.

That had made her uncomfortable, she had to admit -- the thought that he might actually be doing things with other guys. Simon hadn't said anything specific, but she wondered. Her parents had always instructed that sex was a healthy and natural human impulse, but that it was meant only for a man and a woman -- a married couple, to be precise. Lucy was not so naïve that she didn't know there were many, many people in the world who felt differently. So, what about Simon? If what he said was true, if he really was gay, then he certainly would not ever be getting married. What if he was in a serious relationship – was it the same thing? It wasn't like he'd mentioned dozens of boyfriends or wild nights of debauchery. He'd always seemed too level-headed for that sort of thing. But as she guided the car onto the exit ramp, she reminded herself again of how little she really knew about him. He'd had two years to create a new existence for himself, completely separate from the family.

Perhaps she should have been stronger with him. Perhaps she should have told him that what he was doing was a sin and that he was damning himself unless he stopped. She wondered if she had squandered all the training and education that she'd worked so hard for. The first time she'd been faced with the opportunity to spiritually guide someone through a serious problem, she'd chickened out.

Pulling into the parking space in front of her motel room and shutting off the car engine, she stayed in the front seat, thinking. The truth was, she realized, that she didn't believe it herself. She didn't believe that just being gay was a terrible sin. She'd heard the pain and guilt in Simon's voice when he described his high-school years. It broke her heart to think of him scared and alone, keeping his secret, desperate to get away from his own family. It just couldn't be right for anyone to feel that way. Now that he'd finally opened up to her about his life, he'd sounded more cheerful than he ever had, and even excited about the future. He'd talked about his friends with obvious affection, and he'd mentioned that he was still going to church. How could any of that be a bad thing?

She remembered her days in high school. It had been so easy for a cute boy to walk by and drive every other thought out of her head, leaving her dazed and lovestruck; she could be happy for days and days just because someone she liked had called her up just to talk. She hadn't asked for those feelings or invited them to happen. One day she had been a little girl, unconcerned with boys except as recess pests, and the next she had been fascinated by them. If she'd been taken by surprise like that, why couldn't it have happened that way with Simon? Why would she think that he'd had more control over his feelings than she had?

It was all about love, after all. Lucy thought. She thought about her love for Jason, and tried to imagine how she would feel if she could never have acknowledged it. What if she had been forced to deny it and ignore it? What if she'd never gotten any of the happiness that he had brought into her life?

Simon was no rebel, she knew that. He was not doing this out of some twisted sense of defying Mom and Dad. He had obviously struggled with this for quite a long time and had accepted that it was the way he was meant to be. Lucy realized that despite her concerns, she knew that he was right. Whatever she had been told about gay people, it was not a choice that they made. It was something that was a part of their deepest selves, and she needed to accept it.

She got out of the car and walked to the motel room door, unlocking it with the key card. Inside, it was cool and dark, with the sleep shade pulled over the window to keep out nearly all of the daylight. The freeway was a distant drone in the background. She lay down on the crisply made bed, pressing her face onto the fresh-smelling spread.

Simon had wanted her help, and she hadn't known what to tell him. How on earth could he tell Mom and Dad? She herself had had so much trouble accepting it, was still struggling to accept it. They would be even more shocked and dismayed than she had been.

As she'd dropped him off in front of his apartment, he'd leaned in the car window and said, "Lucy, please, even if you can't tell me what to say, you've got to promise me that you'll be there when I tell them."

"I don't think I can afford to fly out here."

"Don't worry about that, I'll pay for it. I've got some money saved up." He blushed, but she didn't call him on his earlier lies about his financial situation.

"I don't know. I mean, I don't know what kind of help I would be to you anyway."

"It would help just for you to be there. Please, Luce, I just have a feeling that I'll need someone in my corner."

She heard herself reluctantly agreeing. Now, as she lay on the hotel bed with the air conditioner blasting cold air all around her, she wondered if she was crazy.