Adore (On My Knees Duet 2)

“It’s good for me.”

His lips press against mine. “I love you. You can handle this.”

My heart pounds as he pushes the stairwell doorway open for me. He holds it, and I step out—and almost pass out. I thought I was pretty steady, but my knees nearly buckle. Vance is by me, and he’s got his arm around me. He holds me against him as I look around the pastor’s suite through eyes that smear and sparkle.

I’m so overwhelmed, I start to do my breathing thing, and Vance turns me away from the crowd.

“I didn’t know about this,” he says. “Fuck. I think it’s good, though. You okay?”

I nod, and we turn slowly back around.

I spot Pearl in front, holding a microphone. “I’m sorry, PL. Are we too much?”

The room laughs. “Listen, this is a little bit unorthodox. I know,” she says. “And we debated if it might not be a great idea.”

That makes me laugh. “So do it, right?”

She grins. “So do it. C’mon, breathe, PL.” I breathe, and Pearl wipes her eyes. “This is kind of like that show Love It or Leave It—Evermore edition. And you know we’re gonna love you, right, PL?”

Vance’s grip on my waist tightens.

Someone else steps forward. It’s Casey Blevins from the board of elders. Pearl passes the mic to her. “I’m so glad to see you well, Luke. We’ve discussed this, and the board would be most pleased if you would stay on in your role. You can carry on as usual from now forward, if you’d like to. But we’d like to offer—maybe encourage,” she says, and it looks like her eyes move to Vance then— “you to take a week or two away. Take some time and give yourself time to heal.”

I don’t really mean to speak aloud. I meet her eyes as I half whisper, “Everyone?”

She smiles. “We elders aren’t always sure how to interpret theology. Sometimes we may even get a little too caught up in matters of rightness and wrongness. But we support you. It’s a common ground.”

I wipe my eyes. A lot of tears are running down my cheeks. Vance wipes some for me.

“Vance,” Casey adds, “we’re honored by your work here, and we look forward to getting to know you more. Okay—” she smiles— “with no further ado, let’s get the Get Well Party started.”

It’s a weird experience, to put it mildly. People I’ve known for years, and know well, coming up and hugging me and introducing themselves to Vance. The back pats, arm squeezes, and kind words roll over both of us like waves at high tide. After more than an hour of non-stop talking, joking, and greeting, my stomach feels hollow, my legs a little bit unsteady. Pearl gets my office chair and parks me by the cake.

Vance sits by me as we talk to donors, elders, church staff, and some of the members who serve in layman’s roles.

The only elder I don’t see is Howard Lindley. I ask Pearl, and she says, “Later.” I look at my phone a little while later and see a text from her. Howard left the board. But not the church. He said he emailed you.

I read the email in my en suite office bathroom when Vance and I sneak off to get a moment.

Pastor Luke,

I congratulate you on your improving health and on your ability to foster such a loyal group of elders. I will no longer be one of them, but I will remain a proud member of Evermore United Church. As you know, I’m one of those with theological uncertainties. I wish you and your artist friend nothing but gladness nonetheless.

Sincerely,

H. LindleyI laugh. “Wow. That guy’s the most anti-rainbow-flag-flying member of the entire board.”

“Was.” Vance winks.

“That’s crazy. It’s a decently nice letter.” I shake my head and pull Vance against me. “How’d I get so freaking lucky with this?”

He grins. “Did you just say freaking?”

I whisper against his cheek. “I’m allowed to say freaking.”

“Freaking Luke.”

We kiss until we’re breathless—okay, more just I am—and then lean against my desk together, looking out over the campus.

“Do you think the church at large knows about this—that the elders want you to stay?”

I shake my head. “Pearl told me earlier that only senior staff and other leadership got the memo about tonight. Only those who could be supportive were supposed to come. She invited 130 and said there were 106 who came. And no angry emails.”

“If there are, I hope someone who’s not you will get them.”

I nod. “Ansley.”

“What do you think about what they said?” Vance asks. “Do you want to take some time off?”

“If you do.”

“Do you want to?”

“I don’t know. I feel like if I do, people—like church members—might see it as me stepping aside. But maybe that’s a good thing. I could see how they react. If a lot of them don’t want a gay church leader, I’m not sure I want to be theirs.”