Derek rose from the chair. “Your son loves you—and his father. He just wants you to love him, too… for who he is. And he is an amazing young man. I, for one, feel greatly blessed to have him in my life.” He gazed at the woman with sympathy. “When you find your way past all these rules and regulations created by man and not God… your son is just a phone call away, waiting for you to accept him for the wonderful person God created him to be.”
. . .
Patrick didn’t know what Derek had said to his mom, but after his stuff was packed and they carried it up to the kitchen, he sensed a change in her. She continued to sit quietly at the table, but something was different.
“What did you say to her?” Patrick asked as they carried a batch of his belongings to the car.
Derek smiled and shrugged. “I just assured her you were okay and that we weren’t deviants.”
“That’s all you said?”
“Maybe a little more.” Derek chuckled as he headed back to the house.
They got the rest of his stuff in one more trip to the car. When Patrick glanced back at the house, his mom was standing in the open front door.
“I’ll be right back,” Patrick murmured and walked across the lawn to the porch stoop. “I think that’s everything.”
His mom stared at him with tears in her eyes.
Patrick swallowed thickly. “I know you don’t think so,” he whispered. “but I’m in a good place, with good people. You don’t have to worry about me.” When she just looked at him, he sighed. “I have to go. Bye, mom.” He turned away as tears stung his eyes and a tightness squeezed his heart.
“I love you, Patrick,” his mom whispered with a tremor.
He turned back around, his vision blurred.
“Nothing could make me stop loving you.” Her chin trembled. “Please take care of yourself.”
Patrick walked back to his mom and hugged her. “I love you, too, mom.” He held her tight, fighting back sobs. “I love dad, too… but I can’t be here with him anymore.”
“I know.”
Patrick drew back. “You can call me if you want. That would be okay.”
A wavering smile touched her face. “I will.”
Patrick hugged her again. “If you ever need me, just call.”
Wiping tears from his face, he walked back to the car and climbed in.
Derek smiled and started the engine.
Patrick shook his head, his heart swelling. “If you’re trying to make me fall in love with you…” He looked at Derek as a smile formed, then leaned over and kissed him softly on the lips. “It’s working.”
. . .
Brian didn’t call by the time his birthday rolled around. Patrick went back and forth about whether he should just show up at the party, his nerves grinding his guts to shreds.
“You know you want to go,” Derek said. “Just go. Talk to him. If he refuses to talk to you, at least you made the effort.”
“Yeah.” Patrick sighed, feeling shaky inside. “I-I guess you’re right.”
Derek walked him outside to the car and leaned against the Trans Am. “All anyone can do is try. You can’t force the other person to make an effort as well. But it will do Brian good to know you still care about him, even if he doesn’t respond to it just yet.”
Patrick played with the front of Derek’s shirt, his eyes down. “I got myself a wise man.” He looked up and smiled. “How did I get so lucky?”
Derek shrugged. “I think I’m the lucky one.” He kissed his forehead.
A small, pleasant shiver raced through Patrick. He longed to give in to Derek’s full affection—kissing and hugging—but remained in the process of rooting out the fears and anxieties that bound him. They were almost gone; he could feel it. But sometimes, when he started to get close to Derek, they flared up again. He adored Derek for his patience and understanding—that alone aided his recovery.
