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The pressure in Ivan’s chest eased a little, even though he knew he wasn’t out of the woods yet. “Stay with me. Let’s figure this out. We are a family. Let’s use your skills to go on the offensive. You’ve got a large following, and there’s no one better to tell your story—our stories—than you.”
Rory straightened in his seat. “What are you suggesting?”
Ivan laughed. “Fuck if I know. Brand management is your area of expertise, so manage it.”
“Ivan, you’re people, not a brand.”
“I would think the approach is similar, but we don’t need to get too far into the weeds right now. We need to sit down and discuss this with everyone else.”
“If they want me to go, I will.”
“They won’t.” Ivan had witnessed firsthand how much everyone cared about Rory.
Rory lifted his hand and kissed it, catching Ivan by surprise. “If they do, it won’t be the end of us.”
“Hell no, it won’t.”
They made it back to the ranch without Ivan spotting news vans in the rearview mirror. For all he knew, Hope was still pelting them with water balloons. The memory made Ivan smile, even with so much uncertainty hovering over them like angry storm clouds.
“I want to give my mom a call and warn her about what could come her way. You might want to do the same for Nick and your father.”
Rory exhaled a long sigh. “I doubt my dad will take my call, and Nick is going to be pissed. He gave me two simple tasks any idiot should be able to follow—lie low and stay out of trouble. I failed epically.”
“Nick won’t be mad at you, even if he’s annoyed by the circumstance. And as far as your dad goes, all you can do is try. It’s his problem if he refuses to hear you out.”
Rory squeezed his hand. “You’re right.”
When they got back to the old homestead, Ivan and Rory parted ways in the living room with a kiss. Rory retreated to his old room, and Ivan went upstairs. Both of them needed some privacy for the conversations they wanted to have.
Mary Gallagher answered on the second ring, her cheerful voice a balm to Ivan’s soul. “Hello, Ivan. This is a pleasant surprise.”
“Hi, Mama.”
“What’s wrong?” Just two words from him, and her tone went from cheerful church lady to mama bear.
It eased the tension in Ivan’s chest a little and made it easier for him to tell her about recent events. He hated to dredge up reminders of the incident that had driven a wedge between them. Worse, he didn’t want to instigate a conversation they should’ve had years ago when they’d mended their relationship. Instead of getting everything out in the open as he had with Innes, Ivan had taken a bury-it-in-the-past approach with his mother. But nothing stayed buried. Ever. Problems just grew bigger the longer they went ignored and became festering wounds on the soul. Bitterness was always bubbling just beneath the surface, looking for any opening to ooze out and taint even the best moments. The fresh slate Ivan had envisioned wasn’t as squeaky clean as he forced himself to believe. He was asking Rory to take a leap of faith and stay with him. That meant Ivan had to be the best version of himself if they were to have a real chance. And he wanted that more than anything.
So Ivan didn’t bother denying there was something wrong; he just dove in, starting with the most recent events and working his way backward. The words stumbled off his tongue at first, but then they sprang from his mouth as if his very existence depended on them arriving at their destination. And just maybe it did. Until Rory had arrived, Ivan thought he was doing pretty good. Sure, his love life was nonexistent, but it hadn’t seemed to matter until that little spark plug lit up his soul like the Fourth of July.
He talked until his voice grew hoarse, only pausing when his mother said, “Darling, take a breath. I’m not going anywhere.” Ivan took a few deep breaths. Then he continued his cleansing, not stopping until he reached thirteen-year-old Ivan, who’d bawled his eyes out in the shower and begged God to change him. By then, both of them were crying. Ivan knew it would be hard for his mom to hear how much he’d hated himself. It seemed necessary to make her understand how his shame and self-hatred had been brewing and festering until it exploded.
“I took that bat to my figurative self just as much as I did to that bully’s car after he’d made my life and Curt’s a living hell,” Ivan said.
A broken sob came through their phone connection, and Ivan closed his eyes as he waited for his mother to say something more than encouragement to breathe. The only sounds he heard for several moments were her sniffling attempts to pull herself together. The pain was more than he could bear, and it drove Ivan to his feet where he paced the length of his bedroom.
“I’m sorry,” they said at the same time.
Ivan jerked to a stop, his heart pounding in his chest. “Why are you sorry, Mama?”
“I should’ve realized that our silence about the things Pastor Vance said came across as acceptance or even approval. Your father and I never felt that way about homosexuality. We didn’t understand it, but hate and fear didn’t consume our hearts and minds. I didn’t realize you were gay, Ivan. It just never occurred to me. I didn’t know anyone who was gay, or at least I wasn’t aware if I did. I just thought you were studious, dedicated to football and farming, and maybe a little…”
“Ugly?”
Mary gasped. “No. You’ve never been ugly a single day in your life. You were a tad uncomfortable in your own skin, but I just thought that was typical teenage angst. I didn’t know that you hated something about yourself that neither you nor God could, or even should, change. No one should ever feel that way, and I’m so sorry I wasn’t smarter. At a minimum, your father and I should’ve countered what the pastor said with messages of acceptance. But really, we should’ve left the church altogether. Not all congregations act that way. My new church hangs a Pride flag outside all year long. I regret not leaving Pastor Vance’s church sooner, especially considering how they treated Innes, your father, and myself after it came out that you were gay. I’ve forgiven the ignorant things people have said to me, but you best believe I haven’t forgotten a single word. If reporters want to harass me, they’ll get the sound bites I should’ve given them years ago. I’ll tell them where they can shove my Pride flag. Once they realize there’s no drama to capture on film, they’ll leave me alone. And if I can find a sympathetic journalist, I might just grant them an interview. Maybe another parent can learn from my mistakes.”
“Wow,” Ivan said, unsure of what else to say. Then he realized it was an excellent opportunity to express his apologies too. “I’m sorry too because I regret not telling you and Dad that I was gay. You shouldn’t have found out that way. I hate how the community treated you afterward. I’m sorry for the hurt I caused you.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Mary said.
