The following story is a work of fiction and does not represent any living person. The story contains sex between two consenting adult men. If you are a minor, or it is illegal in your area to read the following story, please leave now. The author retains all rights to the story. Please do not reproduce without prior consent.
Thanks to everyone who sent comments. More are always welcome at mr_e08@hotmail.com.
And a big thanks to Lisa for editing this chapter.
Enjoy,
Ethan.
------------- Chapter 25 -------------
*** JORDAN ***
She has to be wrong. This makes no sense. He was okay. He was getting better. He was fine. He was ... I sink deeper into my chair. "I don't understand ... I thought he was okay."
The last time I spoke with my father was Christmas day. We had that huge fight and I stormed out of his house. I haven't spoken to him since. I had thought about him in recent weeks, wondering if I should call. My mom said I should. But I didn't. I kept going back to our last conversation. He made it clear he doesn't like gay people, so why should I bother I thought. I didn't think he would even care to hear from me. The last news we got about him was from my aunt. She called a few weeks ago. She said everything was okay, everything was normal.
"It seems to have happened suddenly," my mom says to me.
"What did Aunt Beth say exactly?"
"She said he called her in the middle of the night, saying he wasn't feel well. She went over right away. When she got there she found him lying on the floor. He wasn't breathing. She called an ambulance, but it was too late ... How are you feeling? Are you okay?" she asks touching my arm.
"Yeah, I'm just ... surprised." I don't know how to express myself. I feel a range of emotions. I wasn't really close to him. He wasn't part of my life anymore. In many ways I feel like I lost him a long time ago when he walked out the door. But still, he was my father. Part of me does feel sad. Now I'll never get the chance to fix our relationship.
"You should go see him."
Should I? I don't know if I can. I feel guilty. The way I left last time ... But I never will get another chance. This is it. This is my last one.
"Aren't you going to come with me?"
She looks hesitant. "I don't think it's a good idea. You know your dad's family already doesn't like me. I don't want to make things worse or cause them more stress."
"But don't you want to see him? You did love him at one point in time."
"I do want to see him. I did love him, and regardless of whatever happened, I do care about him still. He's the father of my child."
"Come with me then. I can't do this alone. Please. For me," I say taking her hands into mine.
She still looks hesitant, but she says yes. "Pack your stuff. We should leave right away. Let's aim for within the hour. I'll call work to see how much time I can get off."
"Okay."
I run upstairs to quickly pack my stuff and take a shower. As I grab my things I recall my last conversation with my dad.
"I'm going home," I yelled at him.
"This is your home," he responded.
"This will never be my home." I was so angry.
"Jordan, I said I am sorry. I don't know what more you want from me."
"I don't want anything from you, not now or ever. I've lived most of my life without you and I am totally fine living the rest without you as well."
"Fine, be irrational, you're just like your mother."
"I AM just like my mother and you know what, I am proud of that. Thank God I didn't turn out anything like you."
That was the last thing I said to my dad. `Thank God I didn't turn out anything like you'. Those were the last words he heard from his son. The thought makes me feel awful inside.
"Jordan? You ready?" my mom calls from downstairs.
"Yeah, I'll be down in a second."
My mom called my aunt to tell her we were coming. My aunt said we could stay at her place, but my mom thought it would be better to stay at a hotel. She's driving so I can find one on our way there. During the car ride I text Aiden. It's late at night in Australia so I don't expect him to message me back anytime soon. I also message Brody. He responds right away offering his condolences. As soon as I think of Brody, the thought of Noah comes to my mind as well. He is the only person, besides my mom, who knows how torn I feel right now. I could use his support. But I shouldn't. He's not part of my life anymore.
"I still don't fully believe it," I say to my mom. I still don't. The thought just seems ludicrous.
"It does seem unreal," she says to me.
"The idea of him not being here anymore ... my brain just doesn't seem to understand that."
"It takes time."
"I always thought that maybe one day ... somehow ... he would ..." I don't even know how to finish the sentence. But my mom knows what I mean.
"He did care for you," she says.
"It's hard to believe you."
"I know, but it's the truth."
We arrive in town early afternoon and check into a hotel. My mom stays there while I go to the hospital. She figures it is probably best to go when the entire family isn't there. I agree with her.
The hospital is only a few minutes away by foot. Once there, I go and find my family.
"Jordan," my Aunt Beth says taking me into her arms.
"Hi."
"I'm so glad you're here," she says crying. "I'm so sorry."
"It's okay," I say patting her back. "There is nothing you could have done."
She feels torn for not getting to my dad's house sooner. She doesn't live that close, about half an hour away in the next town. It wasn't her fault. I notice my uncles move closer towards me. I've always had a rather rocky relationship with them. I never spoke to any of them growing up. I didn't like them because they didn't like my mom. But the few times I've seen them they've always been nice, except for one. I got to know them a bit more when I spent a month here last summer with my dad. But they were just like him, with the same small-town mentality.
"Hi, Jordan," one of them says to me.
"Hi. How are you?"
"I'm okay. How are you doing, son?"
"I'm okay," I say. "Where are they keeping him?"
"He's in the room over there," one of them says pointing to the room on the left.
"Would you like to see him?" my aunt asks.
"Yes," I say.
"I'll come with you," she says.
"Thank you." I'm glad she joins me. I don't want to do this alone.
We walk into the room. When I see my dad I take a step back. I place a hand on my chest to steady myself. I'm not prepared for what I see in front of me. His skin is so pale. He doesn't look like the person I once knew. Seeing him makes it real. He is gone.
"Can I have a moment alone?" I ask my aunt.
"Sure. I'll just be outside. Let me know if you need anything."
I nod slightly. I move closer to him. I take my fingers and touch his hand. His skin is cold.
"Hi, Dad," I say in a low voice. "I came to see you. And ... and to say ..." It is getting harder to breathe. "Don't go ... Please. Please wake up." I can't help but cry.
I stand there for a few seconds staring at him. This is too hard. I walk back outside and join my aunt. She says there are people I need to speak to about donating organs, and funeral arrangements, and a bunch of things. I tell her to ask my uncles to take care of it. I'm in no mind to make any decisions right now.
I go and sit down in the room with all my family members. Several of them come up to me to offer their condolences. One of my cousins asks where my mom is. But before I can answer another uncle, the rude one, jumps in. "She's probably at home backing a cake to celebrate right now."
I jump out of my seat. "Fuck you," I say rather loudly. I know I should be polite, but screw it.
"Jordan," my aunt says, "calm down. And you," she says pointing to my uncle, "apologize."
"Why? It's the truth," he says. "I'm surprised he even bothered showing up. Never cared about his dad when he was alive. Now he's here to pretend like he cared."
"I never cared? Who the hell do you think you are judging me? Why don't you go ask him," I say pointing towards where my dad's body is, "why he never cared? Why don't you ask him why he never showed up? Or better yet, why don't you tell me why you didn't care? How often did you call, or check up on me? You're my uncle, after all. Some uncle you turned out to be. And you blame my mom. Go judge yourself first."
"Jordan, please," my aunt says. "This isn't the time or place."
I start to walk away. I can't be here right now, or I might just punch someone. But before I can leave my other uncle walks into the room.
"The funeral arrangements have been finalized. The funeral home will pick up the body tomorrow morning. We'll have the funeral a day later, on Tuesday."
The decision was made to bury my dad in the same city where my mom and I live. He grew up there, and both of my grandparents are buried there too. He will be buried next to them.
—
I leave the hospital soon after. I can't be there. I feel like I can't breathe. I need to calm down. I decide to go for a long walk before returning to the hotel. I reach into my pocket and turn on my phone. I turned it off when I got to the hospital. I notice Aiden has messaged me back. He tells me to give him a call when I get the chance.
"Hey!" he says picking up the phone.
"Hey, Aiden."
"I'm so sorry to hear about your dad."
"Thanks." I have very little energy in my voice. I sound deflated.
"How are you doing?"
"I'm okay. It's a lot to take in ..."
"Yeah. Was he getting sick again?"
"No. Everything seemed okay. It just happened suddenly."
"How is your mom doing?"
"She's okay. She's a strong woman."
"Is there anything I can do to help?" he asks.
"No, we're fine. But thanks for offering."
"When is the funeral?"
"Two days from now."
"That's fast," he says.
"Yeah. It's better that way I think."
"Are you sure you're okay, buddy? I know you had a rocky relationship with your dad."
"I'll be fine, Aiden. It'll take some time, but I'll be okay."
"If you need anything, Jordan, please let me know."
"I will. Listen, I have to get back to the hotel. I'll talk to you later, okay?"
"Sure. Take care, man."
It was nice talking to Aiden, he cares. I don't know what to say to him exactly. I still haven't really figured out how I feel about all of this. Every moment I feel something different. There are times when I'm sad or angry, but then at times I'm okay. Sometimes I'm somewhere in the middle. There is only one person I really want to talk to. How I wish he were here by my side right now.
*** NOAH ***
Like most days, today I decide to take the kids to the park. I like taking them. It is nice to get out, get some fresh air, and enjoy the scenery. Plus, I think my brother and sister-in-law enjoy some private time together. They don't really get time to themselves because of the kids. This way I feel like I am at least contributing somewhat. They've done a lot for me; it's the least I can do.
Besides, there isn't much to do in this sleepy town. It is not big, just a few thousand people. Yesterday I spent most of the day walking all over town, handing out resumes. At night, we watched a children's movie, "Frozen", for the 10th time. My niece really likes that movie. If I hear `Let It Go' one more time ... I might just go crazy. But I had nothing else to do, so why not.
In terms of my parents, nothing has changed. My brother tried talking to my mom, and so did my sister, but she won't listen. My dad doesn't say much. He just says talk to Mom. She will only take me back if I change and agree to go to church and see a therapist. I've told my siblings to tell her repeatedly that I will not do either of those things. As each day passes, I care less and less. The pain slowly gets duller and duller. They have to take me the way I am, otherwise, I don't care if I lose them. I know I say that rather easily, and to a degree it isn't true, I do still care, and a part of me always will. But I am getting closer and closer to the idea of not having them in my life. In the meantime, I have to continue with my life. I will spend as much time with these kids as I can before heading back to school.
I'm sitting on the bench, watching the kids go up and down the slide when my phone buzzes. It is a message from Aiden. That's odd. I haven't spoken to him since I broke up with Jordan. That was more than 3 months ago.
"Hey, Noah. Hope you're well. I hope I am not intruding. I wanted to tell you that Jordan's dad died. He had a heart attack."
Holy shit. That's terrible news! I notice Aiden is still typing because of those 3 annoying dots, but I quickly text him back. "How? When? How is Jordan?" I feel so bad for him. He always had a rocky relationship with his dad. This is probably tearing him apart inside.
"Yesterday morning. I spoke to him then, and again this morning. He's quite upset. But he keeps saying he is okay. He won't really talk to me about it."
Poor guy. I feel so bad for him. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"I think there might be. I think you should call him."
Call him? I've longed to hear Jordan's voice for months now. But will a call from me be a kind gesture or a cruel reminder? "I'm not sure he would really want to hear my voice right now. I don't want to cause him more pain."
"I've thought about it a lot. I know you two didn't leave off on a good note, but he still does care about you. You two had a special connection. You understand him. I think talking to you will help."
"I'm not sure, Aiden. I don't know if he told you this, but I suggested we stay friends. He rejected the idea. He was adamant that could never happen."
"He did tell me that. He was really pissed when you suggested it. But this is different. The worst case scenario he hangs up on you, but I don't think he will. And if he is angry, he will be angry at me. I'll take responsibility for this."
Shit. What do I do? "I still care for him. I just don't want to cause him more pain, that's all."
"I'm not saying you guys will be best friends again. But I think he still could use your support. Maybe I am wrong. But something tells me I am right."
"I'll think about it."
Poor Jordan. If only I could give him a hug right now.
*** JORDAN ***
The next morning I drive back home with my mom. It's good to be back. But my solitude is quickly destroyed. The news has spread and people start to come over to pay their respects. I also start to get calls from my friends, Brody, Jenn, John ... I know they mean well, but I can't handle it. Everyone keeps asking me the same questions. What happened? I thought he was getting better? How are you? And the same advice, about how it is hard but life will go on, etc. I know they are trying to be nice, but it's too much. I step outside to the back deck. I need to be alone.
Tomorrow I'll have to say goodbye to my dad. My aunt asked if I wanted to speak at the service but I said no. What would I say? I don't have any stories of us to share. But before we bury him I have to talk to him one last time. I just don't know what to say. I feel like I could rip my hair out. I feel so alone right now. I miss Noah.
I pick up my phone and go to the contacts list. I scroll down to the 'N' section. I look at his name. I sit there with the phone in my hands thinking. Should I do it? Would he even answer?
I almost jump when the phone starts to ring. I don't believe my eyes at first. That can't be right. I look at the display again. It's Noah.
"Hello?" I say answering it.
"Hi, Jordan," he says in a mellow voice.
It's him. My heart starts beating faster. "Noah ..." I'm at a loss for words.
"I heard about your father. I'm so sorry, Jordan."
"Thanks," is all I can muster.
"I thought I would call to see how you're doing. I'm sorry if I overstepped any boundaries. I don't want to upset you further. I'll hang up if you wish."
He called to check on me. The gesture actually makes me feel a bit better. Hearing his voice gives me comfort. "You don't have to apologize. I'm glad to hear your voice. It's been a really long time."
"It has. How are you doing?"
"I'm okay. How are you?"
"I'm fine. But I'm more concerned about you."
"It's been a rough few days ... but I'll pull through." I want to tell him everything, but I feel there is a wall between us still. I don't know how to break it down.
"I know it's not the same between us anymore ... but if you want you can still talk to me. I am still the same guy, and I'm here for you if you need my help."
I desperately want to talk to him, yet something inside of me is telling me I shouldn't. Talking to him won't change anything. "Thank you, Noah, I appreciate that. It means a lot. But I honestly am okay."
"You're still angry with me."
His words surprise me. "I'm not angry. It's just, it's been a long time."
"I understand. I'll let you go then. But before I do, I just want to say one thing. You're an amazing son. I know you don't think so right now. You're probably beating yourself up because of the way things ended with your dad. You probably hate yourself for not spending more time with him, for leaving on Christmas day. For what you said to him. But you have nothing to be sorry for. You are an amazing man, with one of the biggest hearts I have ever seen. Any father would be proud to see just how far you've come, how many obstacles you've jumped over on your own. You went to him even though he left you. You put aside your pride to spend so much time with him during the summer. You have nothing to regret. Nothing. You did all you could. Again, if you need anything Jordan please let me know. I truly do hope you're okay."
He stills gets me. After all this time nothing has actually changed. He is still the same guy; I was wrong. "Do you know what the last thing I said to my dad was? `Thank God I didn't turn out anything like you.' That's what I yelled at him before I shut the door on his face and walked out of his life. What kind of son says that to his dad? Those were my last words. The last words he ever heard from me. And I can't take them back."
"You were angry. I'm sure he knew you didn't mean them."
"But I did," I say with tears rolling down my face. "I did. That's the worst part. I'm glad I didn't turn out like him. All my life I wanted him to be there for me, I wanted him to care, to show he loved me. But he never was and he never did. Every single time he disappointed me. And now ... now he's leaving me for good. And I'll never get the opportunity to make it right. I'll never have the chance to have my father. Tomorrow I have to say goodbye to him for good ... but I don't know how. How do I say goodbye to a man I barely knew, a man who disappointed me all my life?"
"Speak from your heart, and tell him the truth. Tell him how you feel."
"Tell him he was a lousy father?"
"Yes. And tell him that regardless, you still loved him."
"I'm not sure I did."
"Jordan, we both know you loved him. I know it's not the same kind of love you feel for your mom, or ... at one time you did for me ... but a different one. Even though he treated you and your mom so poorly, and even though he wasn't there for you when you needed him, you still loved him. Sure, you were angry with him, and that was completely justified, but you still tried, you still went to him. I know in my heart from what I've seen from you that your heart is pure. Like I said, you are a good son, no, a fantastic son, one anyone would be proud to have."
"How is that after all this time apart, you still get me? You understand me better than I understand myself."
"It isn't something one forgets," he says. "Something I don't want to forget."
Indeed it is not. "Thank you. You're a good guy Noah."
"You're not too bad yourself," he says. I can hear the smile in his voice.
"I've been told I'm fantastic, actually."
"Really? I wouldn't trust whoever said that. They were probably on drugs."
"Probably ..." I don't want to let him go. Talking to him gives me some peace after so many days of hardship. "So, what have you been up to all these days? Are you still with your parents?"
"I am still out West. I haven't been doing much. I'm looking for a summer job, that's about it right now. What about you?"
"Nothing much, well, before all this happened. I'm working at a restaurant, trying to make some money. Otherwise, the most exciting part of my summer, I built a deck." I don't tell him about Brody. I don't think it's appropriate.
"I didn't know you were a builder."
"Neither did I! I just needed a project to distract me ..." Crap, can't say distract me from him. " ... I mean, I always wanted to try and so I did it. It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. I'm standing on it right now. It turned out quite well I think."
"That's awesome. I'm probably the worst handyman ever."
"I'm sure you're not that bad. You built that room for me." Again I say too much. I regret those words as soon as they come out of my mouth.
"I moved a sofa, put up a curtain, and inflated a bed. I don't think that counts as building," he says laughing. It's good he isn't taking this seriously.
"True."
"Oh, I almost forgot," he says. "You won't believe who I ran into while I was still at school."
"Who?" He better not say Sebastian.
"Jacob."
"I'm sorry, who?"
"That was my reaction too! Jacob from our English class."
"Ooh. Of course ..."
"You have no idea who I'm talking about, do you?" Noah asks.
"Not a clue."
"Zit face."
"Oh! His name is Jacob?"
"Yes!"
"I had no idea."
"Neither did I," he says. "And he didn't have any zits anymore. His face was clean. I didn't recognize him at all. He looked like a completely different person. He's quite cute."
"Really? Wow, I'm curious to see what he looks like. Did you take a picture?"
"Of course I didn't take a picture! I'm not a creepy stalker."
"Well, you say that," I say with a laugh.
"And actually there is more. Turns out he is gay and has a boyfriend."
"Oh, I didn't know that. Good for him."
"And he had the hots for you."
"Really? He told you all this?"
"Well, he implied it. He said he wished he had worked with you."
"Hey, that could be because I'm an awesome guy," I say. "No, a fantastic guy, or so I've been told."
"You're not going to let that go are you?" he asks laughing.
"Nope."
"Well, I'll reserve judgement then."
"Managed to get you didn't I?" Just as the words escape my mouth I realize I shouldn't have said them.
"You did," he says, the playfulness gone from his voice.
And the conversation seems to stop there. Neither of us says anything.
"Thank you," I say after a few seconds.
"For what?"
"For calling. For distracting me for a while. It was good to hear from you."
"It was good to hear from you too."
I know I shouldn't say this, but I have to. "It would be nice if you were here. I've really miss —"
A voice cuts me off. "Hey Jordan." I turn around to see Brody. He came to see me.
I wave to him.
"Hey, Noah, sorry, I have to go. But thank you for calling," I say.
"No worries. Please call if you need anything," Noah says.
"I will. Take care."
"You too. Bye, Jordan."
I was going to say I missed him. But what I really should have said is he was wrong earlier. I still feel that same love for him to this day. It's not gone.
*** NOAH ***
I sit with my phone in my hands, staring into space for a long time. Frozen like a rock, unaware of my surroundings. I can still hear the sound of his voice in my ears, that deep, soft, reassuring voice. The voice I fell in love with. The voice I still am in love with. That hasn't change. Rather, somehow, I feel it has even grown stronger than before. What I wouldn't do to just hold him right now, to give him a hug, and just tell him everything is going to be okay. He deserves to know he is loved, and I hope one day, perhaps with a new boyfriend he can find that. Perhaps then I won't feel so guilty for leaving him.
It is funny how I was trying to convince Jordan that his father was proud of him, that he was a good son. Yet my own father isn't proud of me. I've done so much for my family but I turned into a disappointment. The irony.
I decide to call Jenn; she messaged me earlier in the day.
"Hey, Noah."
"Hi, Jenn."
"Did you see my message about Jordan's dad?"
"I did. I actually just spoke with Jordan."
"You called him?" she asks surprised.
"Yeah. Aiden actually asked me to."
"Really? Why?"
"He messaged me earlier. He thought I could help."
"Did Aiden say anything else?"
"Um, no, that was it."
"Okay. So how did Jordan react when he heard your voice?"
"He was surprised. He didn't say much at first. I thought he wasn't going to talk at all. But then we started talking ... and before I knew it ... it was like old times again. I think I was able to get through to him. It felt like it used to be. For a moment it was like we never fought."
"That's good. Are you going to talk to him again?" she asks.
"I offered. I don't know if he'll call back. Even if he does, I know this is only temporary, and I don't mind. It's the least I can do for him."
"When did you speak with him? I spoke with Jordan earlier today, but he didn't mention talking to you."
"About an hour ago," I say.
"Oh, okay. I called in the morning. I'm assuming you didn't tell him that you came out?"
"No. We didn't talk for long, and it didn't seem right. The conversation was about him, not me."
"If he calls back, would you tell him?"
"I want to, but I'm not sure it'll change anything."
"You never know."
"I want to go to the funeral, to be there for him, but it's too far and I don't have the money."
"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. It's a 12 hour drive. I would if my car wasn't so crappy. But, it would probably die on me. I told Jordan, he understood. Anyway, I have to run. I'll call you later."
"Sure. Talk later."
The rest of the day I barely function. All I think about is Jordan, and how I want to give him a hug. I message Aiden to tell him I called. He thanks me and says he's sure it helped. It's good to know I was able to do something for Jordan. I know it doesn't redeem my behaviour from before, but it still is something.
I keep my phone with me at all times. I don't want to have it out of sight, just in case Jordan calls me back. I doubt he will. But still. One can hope. Eventually it rings. I almost jump off the sofa. But it's not Jordan. It's my dad.
"Hello?" I say.
"Hi, Noah."
"Hi, Dad." I haven't spoken to him since the night I came out.
"How are you, son?"
"I'm fine," I say coldly.
"I called because ... I've been thinking a lot these past few days about that night, and what you said to us, and what I said to you."
"You called me a disappointment."
"No, I said I was disappointed."
"That sounds the same to me."
"You have to understand, Noah, this is difficult for us. I raised you with certain hopes and dreams and expectations. And, when you told us, I thought all those dreams were going to shatter."
"I am still the same son you raised. I thought my happiness is what mattered."
"I know that, and it does. As I've said, I've been thinking a lot about that night and I realized I was wrong. Those dreams, those expectations aren't gone. You're still my son. I should have been more supportive. I am sorry for the way I acted."
His words catch me off-guard. I wasn't expecting them. I don't even know what to say. "Are you saying you're okay with me being gay?"
"I'll be honest, I am not fully okay with it right now, but what I am saying is, I will learn to be okay with it. It will take me time, but with your help and your patience I know I can get there. I don't want to lose you. I want you to be happy."
Wow. I'm thrown completely off balance. That is more than I ever expected from him. "And you won't pressure me to change?"
"No, I won't."
"Thank you, Dad. That means a lot to me. I know this isn't easy for you guys either. It's just this is who I am."
"I know, son, and I was a fool not to see that at first. It's just that I'm scared for you. This life isn't easy. People will judge you, or they may hurt you."
"I know that. But I am okay with it. Society has come a long way. People are more accepting now."
"I know. But there are still many people who don't accept gay people."
"Like Mom. She still hates me doesn't she?"
"She doesn't hate you, Noah."
"She said some really hurtful things. She said she wouldn't have a fag living in her house."
"Your mom is still struggling with this. Our religion says homosexuality is a sin, and she is worried about you in the afterlife. But, I've been reading a lot online, and I guess what I've learned is that our religion also says family is important. You are my son and that is all that matters. All I want for you is to be happy. What you said about being miserable, and doubting your own self-worth, that really stuck with me. I never want you to doubt your self-worth. Having you as a son has been one of the best things that has ever happened in my life. I never want you to think you're not worthy. I loved you from the moment I first held you in my hands, and I will love you until the day I die. I know your mom will see that soon too."
I am on the verge of crying. My father is not the most affectionate person. That has to be the nicest thing he has ever said to me in my entire life. "Thank you, Dad. That means a lot to me."
"I want you to come home," he says.
"What about Mom?"
"I'll deal with her."
"I can't come back if she still feels the same way," I say. "I don't want to feel ashamed of who I am because she doesn't approve. I don't want any more fights."
"It will take her time. But I think if you are here she can see you and that will help."
"I don't know, Dad. Have you talked to her about this?"
"Yes."
"And what did she say?"
"She wasn't happy. But she'll have to accept it. It's the only way we can move on as a family."
"I'll have to think about it," I say. I don't know if I can go back into that environment.
"Please do, son. I'll help you in any way I can. If there is anything you need me to do, please tell me, and I will try my best."
"There is one thing," I say.
"Anything."
Well, it's worth a try.
*** JORDAN ***
How do I say goodbye? How do I sum up everything I feel in just a few words? This is the last time I will ever get the chance to talk to my dad while he is here. This is it. The room is empty; it's just the two of us. My dad's body is in the coffin. The funeral starts in an hour. Noah's words ring in my ear. Tell him the truth, speak from your heart.
"Hi, Dad, it's me, Jordan. I don't know if you can hear me, wherever you are ... but here goes." I clear my throat. "All my life, all I wanted was for you to be part of it. I'd go to games, and events, and ... my friends would be there with their dads, but you weren't ever there ... You were always away. I grew up feeling like I was missing something. There were so many times I needed you ... I needed someone to be there for me. But you never were ... I tried my best to find a place for you in my life. I came to you last summer, and again at Christmas, but you didn't try ... Perhaps I was too impatient. Perhaps my expectations were too high. But I never found what I was looking for.
"I always wondered perhaps that you didn't love me because maybe there was something wrong with me. I thought I was damaged in some way ... At first all I wanted was your approval. I was a little boy who wanted his dad to love him. It made me feel like I wasn't good enough, that I wasn't good enough to be loved ... Even now I wonder if you would be proud of me. If you would still love me if you knew your son is gay. Yes, that's right. I'm gay. I'm one of those guys who you didn't seem to like on television ... I'll never know if you would've accepted me. But it's okay. There came a point in my life when I realized I didn't need your acceptance. I'm happy with who I am. I am happy with who I turned out to be.
"The thing is, somewhere inside of me I always thought someday we'd make amends, that someday I'd get my dad back ... I wished so many times that day would come soon. Now I know it never will. Now I know the last thing I said to you was mean and cruel. But that's not what I want you to remember me by. What I want to tell you and for you to remember is this ... I forgive you. I forgive you for everything you ever did, for all the pain, for all the games and birthdays you missed ... for everything. I also forgive you for all the things you're going to miss. My graduation, my wedding, the birth of my first child ... so many things I wish you'd be able to see. Perhaps you'll get to see them from wherever you are.
"I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me for anything I ever did to hurt you. For what I said on Christmas ... For anything else. I know I can never take back the last words I said to you - the last words you heard. But I want these to be my last words instead ... I love you. As crazy as that sounds, I do. You are my father, you weren't perfect, sure, but you were still my dad. You're the only one I am ever going to get. And that's fine with me.
"I love you, Dad. I will miss you. Perhaps when we meet in heaven we can make amends and have that relationship I think both of us wanted to have. Until then, sleep well. Goodbye."
*** NOAH ***
I don't think I've ever felt so nervous. My heart is racing, my stomach is in knots. I feel queasy. Perhaps this wasn't the best idea. Perhaps I shouldn't have come. But it's too late now. There is no turning back. I'm here.
I walk along the street looking at the house numbers ... 73 ... 75 ... 77. Here it is. There is no car in the driveway. Perhaps they aren't home yet. You can do this, Noah. Breathe, buddy, breathe. I walk up to the door and knock. No answer. I knock again. He isn't home.
I sit down on the front step and wait. I never really thought I would be sitting here, waiting like this. My heart is anxious. I'm nervous as to how he will respond. Will he be happy I am here, or angry? Every time a car drives by I perk up, thinking perhaps it is him. But as the car rolls away my spirits drop. It's not him. I'm so deep in thought I don't even realize when a car pulls up into the driveway. I can't really see the driveway; it is blocked by the garage.
I can hear his voice as he gets out of the car. The same deep voice I craved to hear for so long. There is also the voice of a woman. His mom I suppose. As I hear his voice approach, my heart starts beating faster. This is it. This is the moment of truth.
I see him when he turns the corner. He is dressed in a dark suit, with a matching black tie on a white shirt. His hair is slicked and combed back, clear of his forehead. He looks as beautiful as the first time I saw him. It only takes him a second to realize someone is sitting on the front steps. He stops suddenly. His mouth freezes mid-sentence, his eyes widen. He's completely shocked.
"Noah ..."
"Hi, Jordan."
End of Chapter 25.
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