Off Base (Out of Uniform 1)

“Stop meddling, Edith,” Zack’s father said to her. “Man probably doesn’t want something long-distance. Young guy like Zack, he needs to meet some of the young women we saw at church today. We picked up a brochure for you and put you on their mailing list—”

“You did what?” Zack blinked. “I don’t want to be on some church’s mailing list.”

“Now, honey, it’s past time you found a church family close to base,” his mother soothed. “And your father’s right, there were so many nice girls your age there.”

If Zack ever found the inside of a church again, it certainly wouldn’t be the sort his parents would approve of. I’m never going back to your denomination. Never going to listen to another hate-filled sermon. The words were right there in Zack’s mouth, but his father spoke first.

“Maybe the friend who just left knows some suitable girls he can introduce you to,” his dad said gruffly. “Looks like the sort of man who’s never short female company.”

Zack had to laugh at that. “I doubt that. He’s a widower.”

“Oh that poor man.” His mother’s eyes went liquid and soft. “What happened to his wife?”

Zack took a deep breath. He was done lying about his friends. “Husband died.”

“Husband?” His mother made a face like she’d gotten a mouth full of soap.

“Another queer?” His father’s face turned mottled red. “Son, what are you doing? Associating with degenerates—”

Zack had to laugh at that. “Lieutenant Floros has a whole lot of medals that would disagree with that. Ryan too. They’ve both commanded SEAL teams in combat zones—”

“I don’t care if the liberal-loving president himself gave them medals, I don’t want them around my son. Husband. That’s unnatural.” Sweat beaded up along his father’s thinning hairline.

“Zack. Come home for the holidays. Let Pastor Wooten talk to you.” His mother reached for his hand.

“I don’t need to talk.”

“Son. Don’t you get it? You keep associating with those...homosexuals, people are going to make assumptions—”

“They’d be right.” Zack’s voice was little more than air warming his suddenly frozen lips.

“What did you say?” His mother clutched her neck. “Oh, Zack, don’t joke.”

“I said they’d be right. About me.” He’d expected to feel nauseated, but now that he’d finally gotten the words out, relief flooded his senses.

“No. No son of mine is a goddamned homosexual.” His father’s face had gone from red to purple as he let loose a rare curse.

“This one is.” Relief was funny stuff, made his voice steadier, his muscles firmer.

“We’re going to get you help.” Tears streamed down his mother’s face. “I’ve heard of places that can...make you right again. I’m going to call Pastor Wooten right now and—” She dug around in her purse for her phone.

“Stop. I don’t need help.” Zack’s own eyes burned.

“Of course you do. We got Danny help for his...afflictions, and we’ll do the same for you.” She wiped her eyes, voice more determined now. “I only wish you would have told us sooner—”

“Mom. Danny’s an addict. It’s not the same thing. At all. I was born this way—”

“Don’t you understand how hard life will be for you? That...lifestyle isn’t for you. You need a wife. A helpmate, someone like Leslie who gets what a military man needs. A home. A family. Children.” His mother’s voice broke on the word children. Part of Zack broke along with her.

“Plenty of gay people have kids. They make happy homes.”

“Don’t you talk like that.” His father grabbed for his hand. “You’re a good person. You were born into the church. You’ve been saved. God wants you to make the right choice, and we’re going to help you do that.”

“There are plenty of people in the world who think God loves me exactly like this.” Zack pulled his hand away, unable to stomach the tremor in his father’s grip.

“And they’re wrong. This is not the path of a righteous man. Or a SEAL. I don’t care about those other men—my son isn’t choosing that path.” His father’s eyes narrowed. He pulled out his Bible. “God says—”

“I think you should leave now.” All of a sudden, Zack was tired. Bone-crushingly, soul-numbingly tired. He couldn’t deal with this anymore, couldn’t cope with prayers and help and pleas that were going nowhere.

“Leave?” His mother’s voice cracked. “We can’t leave you like this. You need help.”

“You need to see God’s wisdom,” his father added. “We’ll pray together—”

“I want you to go.” Zack managed to sound firm this time. Resolute. “I’m not praying for change. I like me. A lot.”

“You don’t mean that.” His father took his mother’s elbow, shouldering her bag for her. “You’ll see the error—”

“I won’t.” Zack met his father’s eyes, trying to match his depth of conviction.

“I’ll pray for you. Every day.” His mother pressed a damp kiss to his forehead before following his father out of the room.

Fuck. He’d done it. He’d really done it. He squished his eyes shut. He was not going to cry over this. He lay there, heart pounding, eyes shut, mind racing, for what felt like hours.