Theoretically Perfect (Theoretically Straight #2)

24. Theo

Friday, June 28

The Cathy’s dining room is bustling as the lunch rush peaks. A table opens up by the front door, and I hurry over with my bus pan, clearing the cups, dishes, and half-eaten vegetables away before spraying them down with my trusty bottle of sanitizer. Once everything is in order, I heft the pan up onto my shoulder, carrying it back to the bussing station and sliding it onto the cart.

“Did you see the guy on thirty-three?” Jake asks, tossing a cleaning cloth over his shoulder. “I think I’m in love.”

“You say that about almost every guy that walks in here,” I tease him, making sure the coast is clear before I check my phone. Still no message from Caleb today, but it’s still kind of early in Arizona. The regular routine of eight-hour shifts has really kept me from missing him too much while he’s been away. That, and the fact that we talk nearly every night.

God, I can’t wait till he gets back.

“Ew, you’re doing that thing again.” Jake scrunches his nose.

“What thing?”

“That thing when you look all doe-eyed while you’re thinking about Caleb. We get it. You’re in love. It’s kinda nauseating, man.”

I shove my phone back in my pocket, then spritz him with my sanitizer bottle.

“Hey!”

“Oops, my bad.”

A frazzled server pokes their head around the corner. They’ve got ketchup smeared across their shirt and desperation in their eyes. “Guys, can I get some help clearing the counter? I just got triple sat.”

“We’re on it,” I say, grabbing my pan again and heading over to the row of stools that line the counter. Jake starts at the opposite end, and we work our way to the middle, emptying drinks and stacking plates.

For only having been working at Cathy’s for a few weeks, he’s caught on quickly. It was the start of the summer when he called me, from a number I didn’t have saved, and let me know that he was leaving his parents’ house. They apparently were throwing around the idea to send him off to some conversion camp out in Utah, so he decided it was time to get out of there. His friend from school, Shauna, offered to let him crash at her place for the entire school year if he needs it. He says her parents are super chill, and she’s got a little brother that adores him.

I would have offered the same, but he seems happy to be with Shauna’s family, so helping him get this job was a way I could still feel supportive of him. There’ve been some bad days here and there, but he’s really taking it all in stride.

It makes me wonder if I would have been as strong if things hadn’t panned out for me.

“I’m full up,” Jake says, motioning to the overflowing pan beside him.

“Me too,” I say, stacking the last few dishes on top. “I’ll take these to the back if you want to finish wiping down.”

“Do you trust me with your spray bottle?” Jake asks with a sly grin.

I roll my eyes, passing it over the counter. “Be gentle. I’ve seen how trigger-happy you can get with the window cleaner.”

Jake gives me a salute. “I’ll treat her well, sir.”

I snort a laugh, grabbing the cart from a nearby station to load up the two bus pans of dishes and wheel them into the dish room. The owner’s son—Randy, the fifteen-year-old restaurant savant—takes the cart from me, not slowing down for a second as he dumps the dishes onto the wash station. I decide it's best to stay out of Randy’s way, lest he accidentally stick me in the dishwasher along with the silverware, and hurry back out into the dining room. Jake’s not where I left him at the counter, but the shiny surface tells me that our job is complete, and a clump of customers take the empty seats at the counter.

On my way back to the bus station, I spot Jake in the dining room, talking to someone at a table in the corner. Maybe he’s found another love of his life in the two minutes I’ve been gone? It’s almost time for us to go sweep the parking lot, so I make my way over, but then I catch a glimpse of reddish-brown hair and realize too late who he’s talking to.

“Look who it is, Theo,” Jake says, grabbing me by the elbow before I can sneak away. “Our favorite little missionary, home from her latest trip across the world!”

Sienna bristles at the sight of me, her hand immediately going to her ponytail as she fidgets nervously. “Hi, Theodore. Long time no see. Haven’t seen you at church lately.”

“Yeah,” I say, even though I could have gone the rest of my life without laying eyes on her again and have been happy. “I’ve been really busy with work this summer.”

Better leave it at that than get into the nitty gritty of my choice to stop going to church. Mostly, it’s because my dad is there. But if I’m being honest with myself, that’s not the only reason.

Jake gives me a knowing look but, thankfully, keeps his mouth shut.

“What about you, Jake? I miss seeing you in worship.”

“Oh, yeah, I don’t think you’ll be seeing me around anymore since I came out and my parents decided it was time for me to be shipped off to some pray the gay away camp out west. I got out of there fast as I could. Told them they can shove that idea right up their?—”

“Jake, can I get a hand over here?”

“Sorry, gotta run. Good to see you!”

Jake abandons me. The traitor.

“He moved out?” Sienna says, watching Jake as he leaves.

“It was a better option than what would have happened if he stayed.”

“His parents just said he was going through a rough patch,” she continues with a confused frown. “They put him on the prayer list like there was nothing more that could be done. Like he was a neighbor with the flu, not their own child who doesn’t have a place to live.”

“He’s staying with friends,” I say, not sure why I want to alleviate her guilt. “People who love him completely, no strings attached. But, hey, I’m sure the prayer thing will work out for the best.”

“That could have happened to you,” she says, her crystal blue eyes finally looking up at me. “It could have happened to you, and it would have been my fault.”

A twinge in my stomach and I have to fight the urge to comfort her.

“You’re right. I was lucky. I only lost a father, not my whole family.”

Sienna’s lip trembles, and I find myself holding back anger. What does she have to be upset about? She’s the one who blew up my life. She was the one who was so blind in her need to be a good Christian that she destroyed the relationship I had with my father, maybe forever.

And even though I know these things are true, even though the anger roiling in my gut feels more righteous than anything I’ve ever felt before, I still can’t bring myself to come down on her. The heat within me flickers and fades, replaced by a swell of pity. I let out a sigh, sinking into the booth across from Sienna.

She looks up at me, blotting away a tear that trickles down her flushed cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, Theo. I can’t—I don’t know what else to say. What else I can do.”

“There’s nothing else to be done, Sienna,” I say honestly. “And I can’t forgive you. Not right now, at least. Maybe I’ll be able to someday. But, in the meantime, there is something you can do.”

“What is it?” she asks, her voice almost pleading.

“Don’t let it happen to anyone else.”

Sienna leans forward, her brow furrowed. “What?”

“There’s going to be more,” I explain. “More people than just me and Jake that question themselves at that church. And if you plan to stay there, if you really want to make up for what you did, then you can help them. There’s a good chance they’re going to feel alone. Like their community could turn on them at the drop of a hat. They’ll need someone who’s on their side. Who can advocate for them. That could be you.”

“But I don’t—how will do that?”

“Do what you do best, Sienna. Just help people. Be kind and empathetic. Listen to them. And if they confide in you, keep that confidence. Let them know they’re not alone, and connect them with people who can help. There’re some programs over at Specter Methodist that are specifically for queer people of faith. I can send you the info.”

Sienna watches me silently, her blue eyes full and cautious, like she’s still waiting for me to bring the hammer down.

I slide out of the booth, standing at the edge of the table. “What you did was shitty, Sienna. But what’s done is done, and we can’t take things back. We can only move forward. If you really want to help, then you’ll think about what I asked.”

“Okay,” she replies, her voice a whisper.

I nod, glancing over my shoulder to where Jake is busy helping clear a large table in the center of the dining room. “I’ve got to get back to work. But… it was good to see you, Sienna.”

“You, too, Theo.”

Jake gives me an expectant look when I join him at the table.

“What?” I ask, grabbing a stack of cups and dumping them into the bus pan.

“Nothing. I just expected there to be more shouting.”

“I’m not really a shouter,” I say.

“That’s not what I heard from Caleb.”

I fling my towel at him, and he swats it away with a laugh.

The afternoon heat wraps me in a stifling embrace as I leave Cathy’s, heading for where Eileen is parked in the gravel lot behind the restaurant. My phone buzzes, and I check the group chat. Harrison is confirming the time that we’re going to meet tomorrow to drive down to Atlanta and visit Wren. They’ve been gone for almost a month now, and other than the daily pictures we get of their grotesque coursework, they’ve been too busy to do much else.

I tap a “like” to Harrison’s message, stowing my phone just in time to catch the shadow of the person moving from behind my car.

“Hello, Theo.”

My father stands on the passenger side of my car. He’s parked next to me, I realize, his navy sedan looking dirtier than I’ve seen it in a while.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, not wasting time with pleasantries.

I haven’t seen him in a few weeks. The last time he tried to stop by the house, Mom wouldn’t even let him inside. Nathaniel was in the kitchen, eating breakfast with his headphones on. They stood out on the porch and talked for an hour, but then he left, and Mom went straight to the guest bathroom downstairs to try and hide her bloodshot eyes. I tried to ask her about it, but she said it was nothing and that he’d be back soon.

But I knew she was lying.

“I wanted to speak with you. Would that be okay?”

I glance around, a few of my coworkers lingering in the lot between their shifts.

“Can we go someplace else?”

“Sure,” Dad says, a weak smile spreading across his face. “Anywhere you want.”

“Spookies. I’ll meet you out on the patio.”

“Okay. See you there.”

I climb into the driver’s seat, my hands shaking as I plug in my phone out of habit. A song starts up, but I don’t even register what it is. I text my mom, letting her know that Dad showed up and wants to talk. She responds immediately asking if I want her to be there, too. But I tell her I’ll be fine and that I’ll let her know when we’re done.

I think about texting Caleb, but I don’t want to worry him.

The drive over to Spookies takes only a few minutes, and I’ve already drummed up enough theoretical scenarios to make my head spin. But once I’m in the parking lot, surrounded by the familiarity of the inflatable Halloween décor, there’s nothing left to do but face my father.

He’s waiting for me on the patio, staring down at his phone. The patch of grey in his beard has doubled in size since the last time I saw him up close. He looks up as I approach, sitting up straight and stowing his phone back into the pocket of his button-down shirt. He must have come from work.

“Thank you for coming,” he says, his voice softer than I’m used to hearing. “Did you want something to drink?”

“I’d rather we get right to it,” I reply, my stomach clenched tight enough that I might be sick. “What do you want?”

Dad fidgets, moving his hands from the table to his lap and then back to the edge of the table before he speaks. “I wanted to apologize to you, Theo, for the way that I responded to you. It was wrong of me to try and make decisions for you, especially in that manner, so I wanted you to know that I’m sorry.”

“Okay.” I’m not sure I can manage anything else around the lump in my throat.

“I’ve been staying with my brother over in Gainesville while your mother and I work some things out. He’s been helping me think through how best to move forward as a family, but I needed to make sure that we spoke first, man-to-man. For me to tell you just how much I miss you, son. How much I love you.”

I swallow harshly, a tear spilling as I blink, unable to look away from my father’s face. He sounds so sincere. And as much as I’d like to deny it, I’ve missed him, too. So much. But things are different now. I’m different. I need to know that he is, too.

“Do you still think that me loving Caleb is a sin?”

“Theo, we don’t have to talk about that right now?—”

“Answer the question.”

He flinches. I’ve never seen my father look small before. He’s always been an imposing presence. But right now, as he fidgets in his chair, I can’t help but think about how small he seems.

“It’s complicated,” Dad finally says.

“It’s really not,” I reply.

“Theo, I didn’t come here to argue theology with you?—”

“How am I supposed to have a relationship with someone who thinks that my love is a sin? Who thinks that my existence is enough to damn me forever?”

“Theo, please,” Dad pleads, shaking his head. “We’re a family.”

“You don’t get to say that anymore. I have a family, Dad. A family who chose to love all of me, not just the perfect parts. Mom, Grace, Nate—their love was never conditional. My friends never stopped loving me for a second when I came out. This is a ‘you’ problem, Dad. Your love for archaic rules must outweigh the love you have for me, and if that’s the case, then I want nothing to do with you.”

I stand, my knees shaking only for a second before I ground myself and square a look at my father. He’s slouching again, his back against the chair as he watches me.

“You’ve grown.”

“I miss you, Dad,” I say because it’s the truth. “I’m also happier than I’ve ever been.”

Dad nods, his face crumpling.

I walk away before he can hear me cry.