Bad Ideas (First & Forever 4)

Pretty soon, he was clutching several plants in his arms. I went and found a metal wagon, which was the nursery’s equivalent of a shopping cart, then loaded up his treasures and followed him around with it.

Once he finally finished with the houseplants, we made our way through the rest of the nursery. More delicate plants were clustered into four long greenhouses, and there appeared to be no rhyme or reason to the way they were grouped together. Behind the greenhouses were larger bushes and shrubs, more or less in rows, and off in the distance were trees in enormous pots. He wanted to look at everything.

At one point, Theo came up to me and gave me a hug. I smiled at him and asked, “What was that for?”

“You’re being so patient, even though you have to be bored out of your mind.”

“I’m not bored at all,” I told him, as I nuzzled his hair. “I get to watch you be happy, and I’m sharing something you love with you. That’s all really good stuff.”

He leaned back far enough to see my face. “What’s something you love? I want to be a part of it.”

“How do you feel about sports?”

“I never really gave them much thought, to be honest. What’s your favorite?”

“Football. I used to play in high school and thought maybe there’d be a future in it for me. That didn’t work out, but I’ve held on to my love of the game,” I said. “It’s also something I share with Seth and Eden, so that makes it special to me.”

“Which team do you root for?”

“The Forty-Niners. I always liked them, now more than ever since they’re the home team.”

“I don’t know much about football. Will you teach me?”

“Of course.”

He smiled at me, and we started walking again, holding hands while I pulled the metal wagon behind us. After a while, he asked, “What did you do before you became a nurse?”

“I worked in fast food all throughout high school. My family didn’t have a lot of money, so I tried to pitch in. Later on, I started working construction. The pay was better, but I always felt like something was missing. Eventually, I started taking evening classes at the local community college and realized I wanted to be a nurse. It wasn’t an easy decision, though.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I grew up with a father who had very definite opinions about what men should and shouldn’t do. Construction? Great. Nursing? Not so much.”

“What’s wrong with nursing?”

“Nothing,” I said, “but my dad is really old-school. According to his outdated way of thinking, nursing is a job for women. He still hasn’t told his friends what I do for a living, as if it’s shameful somehow.”

“That’s ridiculous! It’s such an important job, and you’re great at it.”

“It is what it is. He’s never going to change, so all I can do is live my life and try not to let his opinions get to me.”

Theo asked, “Does he know you’re gay?”

“Yeah, and he was pissed when I came out. Then Seth did, too, a few years later. My dad said he didn’t know what he’d done wrong for God to curse him with two gay sons.”

“I’m sorry. That must have been painful.”

I shrugged. “It was. But, whatever. It’s easier now that I’m not living in the same city as him. I used to feel obligated to go see him and my mom every week, and there was just this constant undercurrent of disapproval. It would eat away at me.”

“I already know you’re not going home for Christmas, since I’ve seen your work schedule,” he said. “Now I understand why.”

“This is home now, but yeah, I’m not going back for a visit at the holidays. I’m sending a nice gift basket, and we’ll do a video call. That has to be enough. I feel guilty, but at the same time I’m relieved I don’t have to spend the holiday being treated like a failure and a huge disappointment.”

“Is your mom like that, too?”

“All she ever does is agree with my dad, so pretty much.”

“It breaks my heart. You’re such an amazing person, Casey. I wish your parents realized how special you are.”

“I shouldn’t complain,” I muttered. “I know I had it easy, compared to a lot of people.”

“You’re not complaining, and just because others have it harder, that doesn’t invalidate your experience.”

“I know you’re right, but still.”

We’d reached a rustic bench, nestled between a bunch of potted shrubs with small, red leaves. He took a seat, and when I joined him, he asked, “Do you want to hear about my parents? I should warn you, it’s not a happy story.”

“Only if you can tell me about it without causing yourself pain.”

“It’s not like when I lost Freddie. I can talk about this.” He slid closer, and when I put my arm around his shoulders, he leaned into me. After a pause, he said, “Our parents died when we were four. Our dad had just bought himself a used sports car, a 1980s-era Corvette, and he decided to take Mom out for a joy ride.” He paused again before saying, “According to the police report, he was traveling at about ninety miles an hour on a country road when he lost control of the car and rolled it. They were both killed instantly. He was twenty-seven, and she was twenty-four.”