“No.”
“Did he ever ask you out?” Sophia asked.
“No.”
“Then he never tried to manipulate you,” Nicolas said. “Your mother’s telling you what to do, not Bernard. If he hasn’t called, then he’s giving you space. He’s not trying to force something on you.”
They had a point. Bernard always gave him space. He never asked him out or tried to get him naked. Bernard wasn’t like the gays his mother warned him about. Bernard was a great man who he cared about.
They all finished up their drinks and said their goodbyes.
“Don’t be too hard on Bernard,” Sophia said. “He’s a great guy. You need to give him another chance.”
“I’ll see how I feel after a few days.”
“Don’t wait too long,” Jeff said. “Or you’ll miss your chance.”
*
THE CONVERSATION REPEATEDin his mind on the drive home. They had valid points. His mother hurt and upset Bernard. He needed to talk to him, but he didn’t know what to say.
He walked past his phone and ignored the blinking light. It could wait. He needed sleep now.
*
SATURDAY WENT BYin a blur of grocery shopping, errands, and cleaning.
Rory sat in the pew with his family on Saturday evening. His mother opted to sit next to him. She wrapped her arm around his shoulder and squeezed tight. He recoiled at her touch.
“I hope you’re doing better, dear,” she whispered in his ear. “You’re better off without that Silva boy. He hurt you and you don’t deserve to be hurt.”
The thing was, he didn’t feel Bernard hurt him. He did nothing to hurt him until his mother attempted to intervene. That’s when Bernard became upset. He could see why. His mother was controlling. She forced him to live the life she wanted, rather than the one he wanted. She’d called Bernard a fag. He still didn’t know how to approach Bernard. He needed to apologize for what he’d done, but also expected Bernard to apologize too. Bernard had insulted his mother. For all her faults, she was still his mother.
His mother met with the priest after church.
“Oh Father, that was a lovely service,” she said.
“Thank you, Maeve, I’m glad it touched you,” the Father said.
“It’s so good to feel the Lord’s spirit when you speak.”
“I’m so blessed that the words moved you, my child.”
“We must have you over for Sunday lunch one day.”
Rory cocked an eyebrow. Father Joseph was not married and had no children. She didn’t invite people who had no daughter to palm off on him over for Sunday lunch.
“That would be lovely,” Father Joseph said.
“You have a niece, right?”
Here it was. She’d found out he and Missy had no connection and didn’t want to date. Missy must have said something to her parents, and they didn’t want to come over again. There was no other explanation.
“Yes, my niece Harriet.”
“Oh, what a lovely name,” his mother gushed. “How old is she now?”
“She’s twenty-five now.”
