But even beyond this moment, Kurt was dealing with other, unresolved problems. His world had been rocked when Samuel came out, and now again with Kenneth’s resigning his membership in the church. Maybe somewhere he still held onto the idea that if he was a good father, a good masculine role model, his sons would all turn out heterosexual and perfect, in his own mold. They wouldn’t “choose” the wrong path. But now two of his sons had, in completely different ways. And I was threatening to choose my own wrong path, at least the way Kurt saw it.
Beneath the anger was sheer terror, I thought. If I had the time and the energy, I would have tried to reassure him that my staying overnight here didn’t mean I was leaving him or the church. It just meant I was changing the terms of my allegiance. A woman promised in the temple to obey her husband as he obeyed God. And in my book, this was where Kurt had stopped obeying the God of love. If only I could get him to see it.
“I’m not going home right now,” I said firmly. “This is where I’m supposed to be.”
Kurt let out a sigh, like a punctured balloon. “Well, then, I have to do what I know is right,” he said. He moved around the truck and climbed in the driver’s side, looking across at me through the passenger side window, as if hoping I was still considering getting in.
That was when I remembered that I hadn’t ever taken my overnight bag out of the truck. I climbed in and got it.
“I’ll need this,” I said, feeling terrible that this would be the last thing I said to him. When I had closed the door, Kurt started the engine. I stepped away from the truck.
Then he put his head on the steering wheel and turned the engine off. He climbed out of the truck and walked over to me.
I had a beautiful moment of relief, believing that he had decided to stay with me, after all, that our relationship mattered more than the new policy and his loyalty to the church.
But that wasn’t it at all.
“The gate,” he said.
I shuddered as I realized what he meant.
“I have to ask Stephen to open it for me.”
I tried to think of something I could say that would heal the wound we’d both opened in our marriage. “I love you, Kurt.”
He looked up at me and I had never seen his face so ragged. He looked a decade older than he had this morning. I worried about him alone in our house. Kurt hated being alone far more than I did.
“Call me if you want me to come get you. Any time, day or night,” he said. He put out a hand as if he was going to offer me a hug, and then pulled it back. I couldn’t tell if that was because he was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to leave if he touched me or if he thought I didn’t deserve his touch in my rebellion.
He walked inside the house and Nephi came out a few moments later, clutching a key and running down the driveway toward the gate as if he’d much rather be outside on a summer night anyway. Kurt and Stephen came down the steps after him, and Stephen followed Kurt to the door of the truck.
“I hope to see you again soon, Kurt. I believe you’re a good man,” Stephen said graciously, offering his hand.
Kurt very pointedly did not take it, and climbed into the driver’s seat. I heard the truck start and listened to it rumble down the driveway as long as I could still hear it.
After that, I was too tired to make polite conversation and went up to the bunk bedroom, though it was only nine, and changed into pajamas for the night. As I lay there on the bottom bunk, trying to sleep, I thought about Talitha, who had lost her cat and might be heartbroken for a long time about it. I thought about Samuel, who’d had a similarly soft heart, not only for animals, but for everyone.
Samuel was always the child you could count on to be kind to the new kid, the odd one out, the kid who was being teased or bullied. He circled around them and made them stronger just by being who he was. I missed him more than I missed any of my other sons, though it felt wrong for a mother to admit that. At this moment I wanted to talk to my youngest, dearest son more than I ever had before.
But he needed to be focused on spiritual work, not his parents’ squabbles. A mission was supposed to be a respite from the problems of the real world, from grades in college, from working a job, from the pressure to date and marry. If it was going as well as he said, it might be a rude awakening when he got home and had to face what he was missing as a gay man in a church that had made heterosexuality divine and eternal.
I loved Samuel so much, and I wasn’t going to be able to do anything to help him then, not with the new policy in place. He would have to make his own choices, either to leave the church and make his own path as a gay man or to stay and try to make compromises.
But what kind of compromises could I accept? If Samuel tried to marry a woman as I had tried to marry Ben, what would I say? Could I stand by and let that happen without warning her about the consequences?