“Give him, O Lord, your peace and let your eternal light shine upon him," the reverend starts.
Dex’s shoulders rise, and I put my hands on him to comfort him. Ian sends me a side glance that I ignore. They can think what they want; I’m here for my friend. I leave my hand on Dex until he has to get up to deliver the eulogy.
As Dex takes center stage next to his father’s picture, Ryan leans around me to speak to Ian. “Has he talked to you at all?”
Ian shakes his head.
“Not even a good morning?” Ryan insists.
“Not a word. To Virge?” Ian whispers.
Ryan shakes his head. “No. Nor Asher or Emma.”
“Should we be worried?”
“Well,” I hesitate, “he talked to me this morning,”.
Ryan and Ian raise their eyebrows at me. I shrug it off, looking for Dex. I won’t explain what Dex and I have. Mainly because I’m not sure myself. We shared a lot in the few weeks of our “arrangement.” I also feel it’s none of their business. They should be reassured that he’s actually talking.
I focus on Dex standing behind the podium. He seems nervous. He blinks a few times and walks a few steps to stand behind his father’s casket, a trembling hand holding his paper. He looks weary, but a coy smile forms on his lips when he looks in our direction. His eyes find mine, and I wink to encourage him. The corner of his mouth curls up, and he finally speaks, his deep voice full of confidence.
* * *
“Dear friends and family. It’s with a heavy heart I stand before you to speak about my father. I was humbled to learn how many lives he changed, and on behalf of the whole Crawford family, I would like to thank you all for being by our side in such a difficult time. Johanan Livingston Crawford the Third was my hero. There’s nobody in the world I will ever admire more. I could have made a list of all the things I loved about my father, but we all have a life to get back to, even if for many of us, the life that awaits will never be the same.
“I believe the main reason my father was so loved is because he made each of us better, or at least he tried to. He was never afraid to tell us when we were behaving wrongly and was always ready to guide us if he thought we were on a bad path. It happened to me twenty years ago, when I shared with him one of my biggest secrets. He could have never talked to me again, but instead, he took my hand and showed me the way to forgive myself. That’s who John was—a forgiver.
“He was also an understanding man who loved unconditionally. His love for me and my siblings, Clay and Emma, my nephew Asher, but also for Ian and Virginia was all that mattered. Whoever we decided to be, he loved us fiercely, and his door was always open for whatever we might need.
“Of course, being a judge, he preferred to stay impartial to our quarrels, but the punishment was always relative to the crime we’d committed.
“We’re all deeply saddened that he left us so soon, but we promise we’ll honor his memory every day. He’ll be missed by all, but mostly by his wife, Ellen, who stood by him the last twenty-three years of his life, giving him more love than my father had ever received. I know my stepmother will miss her best friend, but I’ll miss mine as well because, in a way, my father was more to me than I ever told him.”
* * *
Dex leaves the room not caring about what is expected of him. Ian and Virginia are crying, and the church stays silent a few more seconds. I don’t think twice before walking out after Dex, climbing over Ian and Jules. I find him in the corridor, looking through the window, obviously lost in his thoughts. I stand behind him without saying a word, close enough that he can feel my presence but not so close that he can’t move. He steps back and leans on me, and fuck, it feels good. I rest my chin on his shoulder and follow his gaze outside, watching nothing and everything my eyes can focus on. I let him be, knowing he’s looking for a sense of peace he might never find.
Our moment is interrupted by heels slapping against the stone church floor. Dex stiffens right away but doesn’t move.
“Dextyn!” a woman says from the other side of the corridor. I turn to see his mother flying toward us like a hummingbird high on sugar. “Dextyn! Look at me!”
She waits, but Dex doesn’t move. I feel the belligerence in his body, but I can’t let him go to war alone, not today. I step in front of Dex to protect him.
“How could you not mention me in your speech?” she says with an expression that could have been mistaken for pained if it weren’t for the obvious disgust and scorn.
“Mrs. Washington,” I interrupt, “I don’t think this is the place or time—”
She snorts. “And you are?”
“Luke Gritt, a friend of your son.” I smile.
“I see you have friends in low places these days, son. The worthless Porters weren’t enough? What a shame. You could have been so much more.”
I send her a stern look but don’t answer her.
“Are you gay?” she spits in my direction. “You don’t look gay!”
“Mother…” Dex warns behind me.
I raise my hand to stop him and wrap my arm around her shoulder, forcing her toward the exit. “Mrs. Washington, I’m sorry if by forgetting my rainbow flag at home, I offended you. As I was saying, I’m a friend of your son, and he needs some time by himself right now. I think it will be better for you to walk away.”
I'm extra polite. This isn’t the first time I’ve faced homophobia or homo-ignorance. My Bulgarian grandmother used to say you can’t catch monkeys with noise and that’s all Dex’s mother is—the forgotten old monkey of this circus. We don’t need to feed her hatred. It’s better to let her starve.
Once outside, I find Clay and deliver his mother to him. His exasperated look makes me like him a little more, but not enough to want to share a beer with the guy. As I step away to return to Dex, I see him standing in the door, his attention on me with a soft expression on his face. Having him look at me this way hurts, because I know I can’t trust his emotions when he’s grieving. I’m extremely flattered that I’m the only person he’s talked to in the last few days, but I’m also not stupid enough to believe it means more than it does. The best way to be close to him right now is by not letting my feelings take over, but it hasn’t been easy to love him from afar—or like him from so close.
I learned a long time ago to never run twice to what broke you, or what has the potential to. Dex has the potential to break me a thousand times, especially when he’s all broken himself and needs someone to hold on to. But despite that, I can’t stop thinking about a future for us. I can’t totally let him go, but neither can I waste my time chasing castles in the sky. I’m stuck in a world of possibilities with what should happen, could happen, might happen, and what really is.
So as I’ve done for the last week or so, I swallow my pride, bottle my feelings, put my friend's cap on, and amble toward him, ignoring the supplications of my heart. Because even if I can’t be the love of his life, I can’t bring myself to walk away from mine.
16
Dex