Divine Intervention - 2. Bottled Up Hurt

Fall 1988

After leaving the church, Joe drove to his walk-up apartment where he lived since his wife, Valentina, told him to leave. It had been a surprise when he arrived home one night and there were his suitcases in the living room. His wife had packed his clothes that day and said it was time for him to move out and move on with his life. They had married right out of high school and were as happy as he thought married couples were supposed to be. They had a routine. Sunday was for church and then lunch with Valentna's parents. The entire afternoon was spent at their home. Valentina's brothers, their wives and children were always there. The house was filled with people, laughter, and the men enjoyed a few beers in the living room while the women gossiped in the kitchen. They were working class folks. There were no pretentions about how hard life was. Valentina's dad was a cop as were two of her brothers. They would joke it was the family business. Another brother was a defector and became a fireman. They were all big brute Irish guys. Joe, being Scottish, was seen as an outsider. Plus, he worked with his hands doing carpentry. They didn’t look down on him but rather thought that he didn’t have the smarts to either be a cop or a fireman. They indulged him and he felt the slight every week. He didn’t want to be indulged. He wanted to be treated as an equal.

Valentina's brothers had all married and had two kids each. Joe knew that if one of the wives got pregnant with a third kid the other two brothers would knock up their wives also. It was always an unspoken competition among them. They were always trying to one-up each other. But the reality was they couldn’t afford to have more kids so Joe wondered how they kept their wives from getting pregnant. Hell, maybe they weren’t having sex. That was something Joe could relate to. He and Valentina had not had sex in months. The last time he tried, Joe ended up on the sofa for the night. He had been so hard and needy and thought they could make it happen. They had gone out to dinner on Friday night which was the norm for them. Italian. They always ate Italian on Friday night. Joe ordered a bottle of wine. Business had been good and he decided to celebrate. He had signed a contract that day for a big job that would pay him lots of money. Valentina lightly sipped her wine. Joe encouraged her to drink up. The more she refused the more he imbibed. Luckily, the restaurant was within walking distance of their apartment because he was too drunk to drive. They walked home with Valentina supporting Joe when he would lean too far to the left or to the right. He would laugh and say it was a wonderful evening. He would also lean over and kiss her on the lips. She would push him away and say they shouldn’t do that in public. He told her what he wanted to do to her in private. She turned scarlet red.

Valentina did not like sex, or more specifically, she did not like sex with Joe. She called him a sex maniac because unlike the rest of their life together he had needs that didn’t fit a fixed time schedule. On some days, he would arrive home from work, walk into the kitchen in his filthy work clothes, drop his pants, pull out his cock and try to fuck Valentina while she was pushed back against the kitchen cabinet. She would beat on his chest and tell him to stop. She would resist at first and then her hips would start rocking and she would moan and tell him that he was ripping her apart. He kept up his assault, as she called it. Finally, he would deposit a man’s load into her and smirk when he pulled his cock out and thank her for a hot fuck. She hated that word. She hated what it meant. She would flee to the bathroom and Joe could hear the water running in the tub. He knew it meant another night when he would eat alone at the kitchen table.

After arriving home from dinner Joe was amorous and needed to feel loved. He tried to kiss Valentina. He felt her small breasts. He tried to lift her skirt and she pushed his hand away. He kept telling her that he loved her and needed her. She called him a pervert, ran into the bedroom, closed the door and then locked it. Joe knew he could easily break through the door but also knew that Valentina would be so angry he wouldn’t get any. He passed out on the sofa, his turgid cock straining his pants. When he awoke Saturday morning, he noted that the apartment was quiet. Valentina wasn’t there. He bathed and then fixed himself breakfast. Maybe she went shopping or maybe she had an appointment and he forgot. Maybe she had to go to her mother’s house and he dismissed the idea at the time. He knew that he was lying to himself. He knew that she had left him alone because she could not stand being with him. She knew his deep dark secret and didn’t want to carry the baby of a homosexual. God, he hated that word.

He thought it ironic that he was gay but was able to have sex with his wife. He was more than capable. Sometimes he wished that his cock would go limp with her. But it didn’t. The more he tried to prove to himself that he was normal the more intent he became in fathering a child. He wanted a kid to prove to Valentina, her parents and brothers that he was a normal, red blooded guy just like them. He didn’t make love to his wife, he was trying to breed her. He felt incomplete as a man without a little boy or two. Hell, with the contract he just signed they could afford three children. Ha! Let the Irish bastards keep up with him. He would sire a half dozen, struggle to pay the bills if he had to, just to outshine his in-laws.

They lived in silent combat for several months after that night. Joe slept on the couch since they only had one bedroom. They both were depressed and it showed on a Sunday when Valentina’s brothers asked him what the hell was going on. They said he looked miserable and so did their sister. Joe told them it was a small problem and they would get it resolved. They told him he needed to man up. One of the brothers grabbed his crotch when that was said. They all laughed; except Joe. He came home that Monday and Valentina had packed his bags. When she told Joe to leave, all three brothers walked out of the bedroom where they had been waiting. They glared at him. Joe knew that she had told them. This was a set-up and Joe recognized he had no choice. He picked up his bags and walked down the steps of the apartment and placed them in the foyer. Joe went to the garage on the next block where he kept his truck, drove back to the apartment, picked up the bags and never looked back. One of Valentina’s brothers found him one day, handed over the divorce papers, smirked and grabbed his crotch as he walked off.

Joe moved into a studio apartment. His work continued to expand and he found that he had very little time for a social life. On weekends he started to explore the gay world of Philadelphia. He hadn’t known when he rented the apartment that he was in the middle of a gay neighborhood. All he had to do was to step outside and he saw gay men everywhere. He considered that it was a gift given to him. In his exploration of the neighborhood he discovered a coffee shop down the street from his apartment. On Saturday mornings, he would go there for breakfast. He would sit for hours drinking coffee, reading the newspaper, and looking at the patrons who would come and go. Sometimes he would read the “Philadelphia Inquirer” through twice while he watched men. He would catch the eye of a good looking man but then wouldn’t know how to proceed. He was shy and unsure of himself. It took an assertive man one morning to make a move on him before he shared his bed. Afterwards, he thought he was in love. He lay in bed holding and kissing the man. He felt complete. The simple act of coupling left him vulnerable to the emotional roller coaster that became his life. He equated sex with love and didn’t understand why other men didn’t see life the same way. It took a few months before he had hardened his heart to the emotional toll that resulted from another erogenous encounter that ended with the man thanking him for the fuck and then walking out. He realized that he wasn’t cut from the same cloth as those who were just out for a physical release. He needed someone who also knit the physical with the emotional. Joe wanted a partner. Someone to be with every day for life.

Joe thought he found that someone in Bob. Joe and Bob had been dating for two months when Bob lowered the boom. Bob told Joe that he was too possessive and he wanted to date around and see who else was available. Joe had been thinking that they would get an apartment together and set up housekeeping. Joe had made a mental commitment to the relationship and saw them together for the rest of their lives. Such was Joe’s view of how the world functioned.

After Bob’s startling denouement, Joe decided he needed a break from dating. He was laser focused on his work and was even more successful. He was making enough money that he could buy a house, furnish it, buy a new work truck and take a vacation any time he wanted. He did none of those things. He put the money into a savings account and thought that someday when he needed a life change, he would have the money to make it happen. Joe also put his heart into a bank vault that he swore he wouldn’t open and make available to anyone again. He couldn’t stand the sexual transactions that left his bereft and incomplete.

When he met Thomas he had totally retrenched and wasn’t interested in dating anyone. Much less a priest. He didn’t know then that when Thomas saw something or someone he wanted, that he was persistent until he got what he wanted. They each carried a lot of hurt and were looking for the same salve.

Thomas had grown up in the low country of South Carolina. His father’s family were transplants; meaning that they did not trace the family line back to the founding of the colony. The family had settled on John’s Island after the ‘late unpleasantness’. His great-great grandfather had settled in the area after the war rather than return to the harsh existence in Maine. He actually wasn’t a carpetbagger as he didn’t have the money but rather was a hard working man who built his small fortune from setting up a seafood distribution system for the fishermen. His business acumen paid off and the family settled in. His grandfather added to the fortune. The family was respected but never included in Charleston society. Thomas’ grandfather had married a local beauty who was of Charleston proper. She moved herself and many family possessions to the plantation that Thomas’ grandfather had purchased. He had restored the home, filled it with priceless southern furniture and married a local woman thinking that would buy him a place in society. He was wrong. It was after Thomas’ parents married that the family was invited to the inner circle society events. Thomas was even invited to the St. Cecelia Ball each year. That was something his grandfather had striven for but had not achieved success in that pursuit. At last, the family had made it into society.

Thomas was an outstanding student. Tall, handsome and athletic. The local girls wanted to date him but it was the members of the football team who drew his attention. His parents wanted him to attend the Citadel but he decided he wanted to go to the University of the South in Sewanee, Tennessee. It was while he was a student there that he decided he was called to a vocation in the church. He had attended St. Michael’s Episcopal Church in Charleston faithfully while growing up but he was always attracted to the pomp and ceremony of the services plus the beautiful historic church that kept him going back Sunday after Sunday. His parents were disappointed that their only child had chosen a life in the church. He told them he was Episcopalian and not Catholic. He could marry when he found the right girl though Thomas knew there would never be the right girl. His mother was particularly upset wondering what would happen to the family furniture, the plantation, the family business. Thomas was somewhat cavalier with her which he regretted later in life when her will stated that everything was to be sold. He told her he chose God not the Chippendale furniture even though he loved the furnishings of the family home.

He finished his bachelor’s degree and then entered seminary. He had settled into a beautiful apartment in Sewanee which his mother had decorated. Few of the students lived in such pleasant surroundings. When he completed his degree, he was ordained as a deacon and sent to a church in Nashville. Again, his mother decorated his house using family heirlooms. He lived in an older neighborhood near the University. The city gave way to a neighborhood with quiet streets and early 20^th century houses primarily of Arts and Crafts architecture. His yard was filled with pine trees and azaleas. It looked like home, it looked settled. The rooms were filled with light that reflected off the oak and walnut furniture, the oriental rugs and oil paintings. His den had oak lawyer bookcases filled with historic tomes and his current religious books. The leather Chesterfield sofa in a deep green looked old and well tended. The house felt like he had lived in it his entire life.

Being young and athletic he oversaw the youth program at church. It was difficult for him. The young men were tempting but Thomas knew to keep his hands to himself. He couldn’t afford the emotional attachment or the scandal. Several of the young men let him know they would only be too happy to jump into bed with him. He was tempted but ultimately resisted. He continued at the church and was ordained to the priesthood. He was seen as a rising star in the church and the diocese.

It was after his ordination that he started venturing into the city life of Nashville. He discovered that Nashville was a big city but a small town. It didn’t take long before the rumors started about him being seen in the gay bars in town. He immediately went back into the closet and stayed home except when he was at church. He didn’t put himself in a position of being gossiped about. He even started dating women. Something he had not done since high school.

The call from the Bishop’s office startled him. He was told that the Bishop would like to meet with him the following week. He started to build his defense testimony regarding the rumors. He prayed. The more he thought about his defense the worse he felt. His prayers turned into pleas with God to get him through this mess. He tried to bargain that he would never have sex with a man again. It was to no avail. He had made himself so sick that he was not able to preach that Sunday. He knew that his life could not continue on this pathway. What would happen if he told the truth?

He was in a daze as he drove to the Bishop’s office. It was a pleasant enough meeting. The Bishop said he was following up with Thomas since his ordination and wanted his thoughts on where his pastoral career might take him.

“You are too talented to remain the assistant priest in a parish. Where do you see yourself in five years?”

Thomas was stupefied as he hadn’t thought about that. He assumed he would continue in the parish until the elderly rector retired and then he would move into that position.

“Let me suggest that now is a good time for you to be looking for a parish. I think, perhaps, that Tennessee is too small for you. Too backwards. Too narrow minded……”

Thomas could only look at him and wonder what he knew.

“I think the Northeast might be good for you. They seem to be more liberal minded. Either that or the west coast. It is important that you be in a place where you can be yourself. You should not have to live a lie.”

Thomas could only nod his head.

“Keep me apprised as you progress with your search. Our deployment officer will work closely with you to find a suitable parish. Do not sell yourself short. You have many gifts that parishes would love to have. But look at parishes outside of this diocese, please.”

Thomas knew that the Bishop knew. He also knew the Bishop was conflict avoidant and was giving him a pass rather than confront the reality of Thomas being gay. Thomas undertook the search process with the same rigor he used in his studies where he was a Dean’s list student. That led him to Philadelphia.