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CHAPTER ONE
Ethan – Now
“HONEY, DO YOUreally think this is a good idea?” his mother asked, a deep frown between her dark auburn brows. Although after having parented her eldest son for the past nineteen years, three months and eight days, she had to have known asking again was fruitless.
One hand firmly planted on the worn steering wheel of his silver 2005 Honda Civic, Ethan took a deep breath and answered his mom for the twentieth time since he, the day after graduation, had announced that he was gonna go look for Matty.
Sitting around the dinner table, Dan and Belinda Bishop had looked at their son with a concerned but not that surprised look on their kind, weather-beaten faces when he’d broken the news. That he couldn’t stand it any longer, not knowing where Matty was. Not knowing if he was okay. It was the not knowing that was the worst. And they, as they had with everything else in life thrown their way, had taken a deep breath and nodded in acceptance. They’d tried to show understanding even though Ethan knew that it wasn’t easy for this West Texan couple to let him leave. They preferred to keep their children close, so he tried to be gentle when he reminded her now.
“Mom, we’ve already been over this…” Ethan’s sea-green eyes met her equally green ones in a silent plea.Please, Mom. I need to do this. I miss him. Every day, I miss him.
Brushing a stray auburn lock of hair away from his ear where it had escaped his faded Texas Rangers ball cap, her face softened, and she almost looked her age; the wear and tear gone briefly from her face. The same face that had radiated so much pride at him from the bleachers during countless Little League games under the blazing Texas sun. He’d stopped playing at the age of twelve because Matty was no longer able to play following a complicated arm fracture. Baseball had always been their thing, his and Matty’s. But there’d been no point in playing after Matty got hurt.
Ethan had started running track instead all the way through junior high and high school and what he got in return was a lean, muscular figure. Working at the neighboring farm had provided the additional layers of muscle. It was the kind of physique you could never get from working out at a gym or from paying a personal trainer an obscene amount of money. It could only come from a combination of favorable genetics, hard physical labor, and dedication. He was always taken for older than he actually was. Ethan didn’t mind, though. In a way he felt older than his peers, often being the man in the Bishop home when his dad was away working at different construction sites in Austin, Dallas or further down south weeks, sometimes months, at a time.
“I know you miss him, sweetheart, but it’s an awful long way to travel all by yourself. I wish you’d wait ‘til next year when Ryder graduates. Then you could go together.” His mom nodded at the hand-drawn map and the blank postcard lying across the passenger seat, a concerned look in her eyes. “It’s not like you know where he is, hon. Not for sure.”
Ethan had always been the spitting image of this kind, strong woman. So much so that his dad had often joked that the mailman must have paid one too many visits to the Bishop household when he was away working for longer periods at a time. His mom would laugh while she swatted at her husband’s balding head playfully. Yeah, there’d never been any doubt in Ethan’s heart that his parents were crazy about each other. If he was lucky enough, it was the kind of relationship he hoped to have himself one day. A real partner. Someone who not only got him, but stood by him, too, and knew when to push and when to not.
Drumming his left hand impatiently against his jean clad thigh, he tried to hide the annoyed hint in his voice.
“I need to do this, Mom. I can’t not know. It’s eating at me. It’s been eating at me for three years now. You know that. I can’t wait another year. Besides, Ryder’s got other plans.” He bit his lower lip, failing to bite back the tremble in his voice. His younger brother was heading for a football scholarship. They all knew that. Ryder had a God given talent which was going to be his ticket out of Eden. At least one of the four brothers had that golden ticket to a future outside of West Texas within their grasp.
“I know it has been troubling you, sweetheart. We’ve all been worried about Matty. But don’t you think that the police would have found him by now…”
He interrupted her with ahmpff,raising his voice an octave.
“Jesus, Mom! Do you really think that they’ve been looking that hard for him? A run-away teen? After what happened that night? I’m just grateful his sad excuse of a father hasn’t started looking for him in earnest yet. No one’s gonna look for Matty except me, Mom. No one.” Whenever he got upset or excited, his Texan drawl rose to the surface and provided his voice with a melodic twang. Ethan hated that. It reminded him that he was stuck in the Lone Star State, that his escape was temporary. That there was an expiration date to his road trip. When he found Matty and made sure that he was okay, Ethan would have to head back home. He had responsibilities. People who relied on him. A family he’d helped provide for since a young age.
“Don’t you talk to me in that voice, young man.” His mom planted her small hand on her left hip, which was broad and curvy from bearing four children and perhaps one too many BBQ Sundays. At 5’4”, she was the shorty in the family, as her husband would put it teasingly while squeezing her shoulder affectionately. In a family of giants, Ethan and his siblings had taken after their father with his 6’2” height, and at the age of seventeen Ethan had finally outgrown his dad by an inch, much to Dan Bishop’s eternal regret. “And don’t take the good Lord’s name in vain,” she concluded her chastising.
Looking down at the steering wheel, he swallowed back the lump in his throat, mumbling a reluctant apology.
“Sorry, ma’am. I just… He’s got no one, Mom. No one except for me. Who’s gonna look for him if I don’t?” Sadness and longing tinted his deep gentle voice, giving away that Ethan was no longer a child but he wasn’t a fully grown man either. His voice didn’t carry his father’s hoarseness from a lifetime of smoking Camels straight and working construction, breathing in God knows what kind of fumes, but there was still time…
Reaching her right hand through the rolled-down car window, his mom squeezed his shoulder reassuringly while nodding her head in silent resignation. As if she knew that she wouldn’t be able to talk him out of this. Ethan had always been told that he was a stubborn child and once his mind was set on something, even a band of wild horses couldn’t keep him from it.
“You’ve got enough gas money?” She raised a brow at him, while stroking her hand up and down his left arm. He felt bad that his mom asked him this because money had always been tight around the Bishop house. Construction didn’t pay particularly well when you were an unskilled laborer like his dad, often doing odd jobs around the site that no one else wanted to do.
“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled, the tight feeling in his chest giving way to a light flutter of pride and excitement. He had been working every summer for the past three years at the Peterson farm five miles out of town, saving up every penny he could for this trip. Even though he would chip in with groceries or unexpected expenses at home, he’d still been able to put away a small sum each month. In addition to the money that he and Matty had been saving even way before that, he had sufficient funds to get him all the way to Maine and then some.Maine.Who knew if Matty was even there?
“You’re gonna call every night, you hear? I don’t wanna worry about you lying half-dead in a ditch somewhere. Or even worse, married to some smart big city guy in a shot gun wedding.” She winked at him, but he recognized the worried lilt to her voice that seeped through her calm exterior. They’d never been away from each other like this before aside from school field trips or weekend camping trips with his dad and brothers. Being a close-knit family, his mom kept her four sons close, never failing to let them know that she spent every waken moment concerned about their well-being.
Ethan’s parents had always suspected that he liked boys, so there’d been no huge coming-out-drama when at thirteen he put into words what his parents had apparently known all along. They’d told him that they may not understand the whole gay pride stuff with the rainbows and the same sex marriage, but they knew in their hearts that there was no greater love than the love they felt for their firstborn and his younger siblings.
God came second andbigots could just go to hellas his dad had put it without a hint of doubt in his voice when Ethan had been called adick-eating fagat school at the age of fifteen. To the popular Ethan, it had been a wake-up call that not everyone would be as accepting as Matty and his parents were about his newfound sexuality. Kids could be mean and in these parts of the country it wasn’t every day that a fifteen-year-oldcame out.Well, Ethan hadn’t exactly come out. Karen Miller had overheard him and Matty over lunch talking about Ethan’s latest celebrity crush, Ryan Gosling, and the rumor that Ethan Bishop was gay had spread all over Eden High by that afternoon. A lot of teen girls had had their hearts broken that day and Ethan had caught a small glimpse of what it was like to be Matty at school. To be at the bottom of the food chain.
Ethan’s dad, however, hadn’t hesitated for one second before he’d marched down to the principal’s office, dusty coveralls and all. In not so many words, he’d made it clear to Ms. Dawson that he’d take over the disciplinary part of her job description if she wasn’t fit for the task. Ethan filling out with muscles over the next nine months or so during a growth spurt had taken care of the rest. No one wanted to call a giant like Ethan Bishop adick-eating fag.At least not to his face. Ethan had decided to keep his sexuality to himself after that and soon it had become old news that Ethan Bishop wasmaybe, possibly gay.
“I promise, Mom. I’ll call every night.” He knew that he’d won the battle when she placed a soft kiss on his cheek, leaving an imprint of the peach-colored lipstick she’d always worn as long as Ethan could remember. If his mom wanted to look real fancy for a birthday party or the Fourth of July, she’d give her nails a coating of peach too. Wetting her right thumb, she brushed the smudge away with the kind of unfiltered affection you only show someone you’ve loved their entire life.
“Good. You be a good boy, now.” Tears were starting to pool at the corners of her deep green eyes as she gazed at the laundry blowing in the warm summer breeze.
“I will. I promise.” His voice came steadfast and then spilled over in a more hesitant nuance. “What about Dad?”
“Don’t you worry about your father. I’ll handle him,” she winked, swiping at a stray tear. “You just worry about finding our boy and making sure that he’s alright.”
“Mom… Please don’t cry,” he pleaded, his voice carrying a strained ring to it. “I’ll be back before you know it. Just pretend that I’m going to college or something and I’ll be home for Thanksgiving.”
