Next Time I Fall

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

It’s not a date.

Steve examined his reflection in the bathroom mirror. One thing he’d always cared about was his appearance. He understood vanity was a sin, and he had to walk a fine line. God wanted us to take care of ourselves physically, to be good stewards of our health and appearance. And as a pastor, a representative of both the church and of Jesus, he had to be conscious of the importance of looking respectable.

At least those were Steve’s justifications. But since puberty, if not before, he’d been perhaps a little more focused on things that most other guys weren’t—things like dressing fashionably, keeping his hair just so, taking care of his skin and teeth. In high school, he got a job and bought his own clothes. He often didn’t have the money to buy the expensive name brands, but he figured out how to improvise. He discovered thrift stores and resale shops and learned how to look for really nice things he could acquire cheaply in order to build an enviable wardrobe.

His job as a pastor usually allowed him to dress nice. On many occasions he had to wear formal, conservative attire, but even then he knew how to pull it off so he didn’t look like a poor boy playing dress-up in a cheap suit.

For the most part, his family didn’t understand him. None of his older brothers even owned a suit, and his dad, a mechanic, didn’t know the difference between premium cotton and burlap. His mother, ever aware of the specialness of her son, believed his affinity for fashion to be part of his unique makeup as a young man of divine selection. He’d been chosen by God for the ministry, in her view, and that’s why he was different. That’s why he had a more sensitive heart, a softer demeanor, a more refined presence than the other men in her life.

Sometimes this uniqueness rubbed people the wrong way. Sometimes it even annoyed people within the church. Often the male church leaders were of the opinion that boys should be raised as protectors and defenders of their property, family, and country. They believed in clearly defined, traditional gender roles. Boys needed to be taught to toughen up. That’s how they learned to lead.

That’s probably why Steve had worked so hard to present himself as masculine. He’d started working out back in high school in order to develop physical strength. Though he wasn’t gifted in competitive team sports, he found ways to participate in non-contact athletic endeavors. He’d been in track and played tennis, and he jogged or worked out every day.

He wasn’t mechanically inclined either, but he forced himself to learn from his dad the basics of auto repair—how to change a tire, jump-start a battery, change the spark plugs. He’d even changed his own oil on occasion. And he took a woodshop class in high school in order to learn the basics of how to handle tools.

But in his heart of hearts, he just wasn’t the same kind of man as his dad. By nature, he wasn’t competitive. He wasn’t the classic hunter-gatherer who liked to fish and kill deer. He didn’t enjoy watching or playing football. He liked playing the piano. He liked fashion. He loved musicals and show tunes. Steve’s favorite class in high school had been drama. He’d even starred in one of the school plays, The Sound of Music, playing the male lead, von Trapp.

As he stood there in front of the mirror examining his reflection, he felt much more like his true self than he was with Pastor Mathers. He opened the medicine cabinet and removed a bottle of cologne. He dabbed some on his wrists, then applied some to his neck.

But why? Why was he so obsessed with his appearance? Why did it matter that he smell so good? It wasn’t a date. He was going to dinner with another man. That was all. They were friends who shared a love of dogs and unsweetened iced tea. Period.

But Sunday night, it was Eric who had smelled so good. Steve could still remember the spicy scent of his cologne. And there was something inexplicably soothing about the man’s voice. Steve could’ve listened to him talk the whole night. His dark brown eyes, when he looked right at Steve, seemed to penetrate Steve’s soul.

Why did he feel this way? Why were the butterflies fluttering within him even worse than they did before a sermon? Why’d he feel so excited, so tingly?

The answer lay just beneath the surface. Steve actually knew the answer but couldn’t acknowledge it. He didn’t want to acknowledge it because he didn’t want it to be true. Yet he also couldn’t dismiss his feelings entirely. He couldn’t pick up his phone and cancel even though that’s what he should do. He should cancel because just being near this other man subjected Steve to feelings and temptations that were oh so dangerous. These temptations, were he to surrender to them, could destroy him. They could ruin his life.

“This is ridiculous.” He shook his head. “Eric is my friend, and we’re going to dinner. That’s all. Nothing more.” He straightened his posture and squared his shoulders as he stared himself in the eye. “Whether you like it or not!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Wait, you’re going out with that preacher guy?”

Eric held the phone out two feet from his ear and could hear Kathleen clearly even without putting it on speaker.

“Honey, you just spent the last two years pining for a young guy who had no interest or ability in committing…or even returning your love!”

“It’s just dinner—”

“Say for a second this Scott guy—”

“Steve.”

“Steve, whatever. Say for a second this Steve guy really is interested in you, how’s he going to deal with the fact that he’s part of a religion that considers you to be an abomination?”

“I don’t even know if that’s true. I don’t know exactly what they believe. I was looking on the Internet this morning, and there are some very positive, gay-affirming Baptist organizations. Not all of them are haters, ya know.”

“Sweetie, you’re in Cuttlerville! Trust me, that Baptist church is not one of those enlightened, liberal-minded groups. They’re the same ones who protested the anti-discrimination clause being added to the city’s bylaws. They’re the same ones who endorsed the anti-gay, so-called religious freedom laws. They aren’t champions of gay rights!”

Eric sighed and slid onto one of the kitchen barstools. “It’s just dinner, and I promise, I’ll talk to him about it. If he says he believes gay people are an abomination, I’ll kick him to the curb.”

“And what if he doesn’t? What if he’s one of those closet cases who wants to have it both ways? What if he says to you he loves gays but then goes back to his church and preaches you’re all going to burn in hell?”

He reached up to rub his temple. “Kathleen, you’re making my head hurt.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt, baby.”

“Look, I’m not gonna let that happen. I can’t explain it, but there’s just something about him. Yeah, I know he’s the same age as Max, but Steve is different. He has such a kind heart. He loves animals. He likes my iced tea.”

Kathleen burst into laughter. “Your iced tea? Please!”

“Seriously, I just sense something about him that’s different than anything I’ve ever encountered. I think he’s genuine, and at the very least, I think we can be friends.”

“And you can sit around sipping tea and petting your dogs while he reads from the Bible.”

“Hon, I have to go. I have to get ready.”

“Eric, wait! Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad.” Actually, he was kind of pissed. He was annoyed his best friend was lecturing him rather than reassuring him when he was already anxious. Wasn’t she the one who’d encouraged him in the first place, when she’d seen him talking to Steve Sunday morning?

“I love you, and I can’t help try to protect you. Of course I support you, no matter what you do. I hope you have a wonderful time on your date tonight.”

“Not a date.”

“Your dinner with another man …whom you’re attracted to…and think is special, unlike anyone you’ve ever encountered.”

“Now you’re mocking me.”

“No, I mean it. I do support you. But I love you enough to always tell you the truth, to say what I’m really thinking.”

Sometimes that doesn’t seem the best policy. Sometimes it’s best to just keep your negative opinions to yourself.

“I know, and I love you too. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Have fun, baby. I love you! I really do.”