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Grant has never been the biggest fan of going to church. Dressing up and sitting still, listening to some old guy talk for an hour and then getting dragged around by his parents talking to their church friends. It was all just… it sucked. Today is probably going to be the worst of all Sunday mornings. Though he already knew what was going to happen, his dad telling him what to say and how this all will work, Grant still feels bad.
Standing in the bathroom, fumbling to tie his tie, Carol walks past the open door slipping into her heels. Seeing how much trouble Grant is having she walks into the bathroom.
“Sweetie here,” she takes the blue tie in her hands,”lemme help you.”
“Thanks mom.” Grant’s stares at Carol’s hands as she fixes his tie for him. Once she’s finished she brings her hands up to Grant’s face, cupping his cheeks.
“Look at you, so handsome.” Grant scrunches up his nose and reluctantly accepts the kiss Carol presses to his head. “Are you excited about today?”
“I- I’m a little nervous actually.” Grant fiddles with his bracelet, safely hidden underneath the sleeve of his dress shirt. “What if I mess up?”
“Grant, you can't mess up being confirmed.” Carol laughs, pulling her hands away from Grant’s face. “You have nothing to be nervous about sweetie.”
“Yeah… I guess you’re right.” Grant glances at himself in the mirror, not looking like himself.
“I’ll be ready in a little bit.”
Carol took that as her cue to leave, giving Grant a reassuring smile as she slips out of the bathroom. Closing the door after Carol has left, Grant goes back to looking at himself. Was it that obvious? Sure he had long hair but it wasn’t that long. Grabbing one of Carol’s hair ties he pulls his hair back into a low ponytail, leaving only his bangs dangling on his forehead. That was a little better but Grant still felt wrong. Felt like the bishop would know immediately, having some weird Godly powers and not confirm him. His dad will ask the bishop why and he'll tell him. Then his dad will hate him and-
“Grant! You almost done in there bud?” The voice of his father interrupts his thoughts.
“Um, yeah just give me a minute.” Taking one last look at himself, Grant decides to ditch his earrings. There, now he looks okay. Looks like a normal catholic boy who’s definitely not terrified to be confirmed.
Head leaning against the window of the odyssey, staring at the buildings zooming past him, Grant closes his eyes. Listening to his parents talk, the smell of coffee filling the white van. Dread fills Grant as the van follows the familiar path to their church. Same church his parents were confirmed in, had his grandpa’s funeral in, got married in, had him baptised in. Grant’s pretty sure this fucking church is going to haunt him his whole life. Peeking open his eyes, Grant looks down at his hands. He hadn’t realized he was playing with his bracelet. It’s still a miracle that his pastor believed him when he told him that it was rainbow themed to show how God gifted the rainbow to his children. As they pull into the parking lot of the church, the stained glass mural of the Virgin Mary looking down on him, Grant feels some comfort seeing that his aunt Casey was there already. Casey was much more easy to talk to. Less scary than his mom or dad at least. Plus, she has a “friend”, Janice, who's been her “roommate” for 20 plus years. It was safe to say that she was cool. Last to exit the car and enter the church, Grant quietly follows his parents. Smiling to their church friends and lying about how he’s excited to be confirmed. Another lie he’s told to himself and God. The aisle between the pews feels claustrophobic as they walk to where Casey is waiting for them. They sit closer to the altar, so Grant won’t have to walk that far to meet the bishop. Casey sits up when she notices her brother and his family. Giving a polite hug to Carol, charlie-horsing Darryl in the arm, she scoops Grant up in a bear hug. After feeling like his ribs will break, Grant is finally returned to solid ground. Casey tussles his bangs as she goes to follow Darryl and Carol into the pew. Grant sits down next to her, for once on the outside of the pew.
“Lookin snazzy shoots.” Grant cringes at the nickname as Casey flicks his earlobe. “I’m missing the earrings though.”
“Ow.” Grant feigns being in pain as he rubs his ear. When her question registers Grant’s mood drops back to how it was before. “I just didn’t feel like wearing them today.”
“Aw why not? We could’ve matched.” Casey pulls her hair away from her ear and shows Grant her tiny blue stud earrings. They are very similar to the ones Grant normally wears.
“It uh- didn’t feel like it went well with the fit ya know.” A lie. They looked great, matched his tie and everything. Casey notices something is… off with her favorite (and only) nephew. Instead of pressing more, she leans on Grant lightly.
“No wait. Not right now aunt Casey.” Grant knew the drill by now.
“Grant I can't stop it.” She says through a yawn as she begins to lean more of her weight on Grant. “When the sleepiness hits there’s nothing I can do but fall asleep.”
“wHY today-“ Before Grant knows it he’s being squished by the full weight of his aunt. Giggling and trying to push her off, Casey begins to make loud snoring noises, attracting the attention of some of the people in the nearby pews. “Aunt Casey you have to wake up.”
“ Can’t… too tired. ” Casey whispers between her snores. Eventually Grant gives her one hardy shove that magically wakes her up. “Huh? What happened? Did I fall asleep in church again? Lord, this is embarrassing.”
“ You’re embarrassing!” Grant gives her another, more playful shove as he rolls his eyes, still giggling softly.
“See, now there’s my shoots.” She pinches his cheek, shaking his head. Pushing her hand away, the nerves gone for the moment, Grant just groans.
“Do you have to call me that? I hate that story.” He pouts, now leaning his weight on her, giving Casey the perfect opportunity to put him in and headlock and give him a noogie.
“Blame your old man for that one, shoots.” Wriggling free from his aunt’s grasp, Grant goes right back to leaning on her.
“You’re telling me.” He mumbles softly. Hearing the chatter of the other church goers, Grant turns his head towards the altar. There was bishop Lawerence, looking to Lynn, the organ player. Standing with everyone else, Grant quietly pretends to sing along to the hymn that begins to play.
The dread comes back as the bishop asks everyone to be seated. As the bishop begins to start today’s sermon, Grant checks out. Grant’s head was a place he disappeared to a lot. Tuning into his thoughts whenever he needed to. Sitting on the bench during soccer, his dad arguing why he should be playing to Darnell. In his room, playing pubg, pretending like he isn’t bothered by the slurs being casually used by his teammates. The cafeteria at school, picking at his mashed potatoes while the twins occupy each other and as Teej and Nick talk about some band he didn’t listen to. Turning up the volume on the tv when he can hear his parents bickering about God knows what again in the kitchen. His mind was a place that’s familiar, full of stories and plans for his future. A place somewhere better. His mind still wasn’t completely fine either though. From the constant guilt of wanting more when he already has so much. The guilt of keeping things hidden from his parents, the fear of being known by them being more painful than the guilt itself. The bishop asks everyone to join him in prayer, Grant coming back just in time to repeat the words he learned at four. Now he has to pray to God himself, then he’s pretty sure he’s
supposed to get confirmed after that.
Dear God,
Big day I guess. I guess thank you for letting me have such a good life? It’s also kinda shitty but I don’t blame you for that. You don’t control people, free will to all men and what not. Guess I’m just scared. I think you’re probably cool with the whole gay thing but I know a lot of people who like you, a lot of people here, don’t. That’s some scary shit to deal with dude. Dude like in a general saying way, I’m not sure what you are. I really don’t want to get confirmed. I know it’s important but I’m not sure about this whole religion thing. At least being this religious? It’s culty to me but… I don’t know. All this is so scary. You probably have more important prayers to answer so I’ll stop now but… why did you make me this way? Why couldn’t I have just been normal? Life would be so much easier God.
Amen.
The praying ends and the bishop begins to speak. Talk about him. It was time but Grant didn’t want it to be. His dad slides past the others sitting as Grant gets up from the pew as well. The eyes on him made him want to shrivel up and die. A warm, large hand brings him back to the room as him and his father walk up to the altar. Standing before the bishop, a forced smile on his face, Grant does everything to not disappear. Being present for this was important. As the bishop begins to speak about the importance of confirmation, how he shall become a man in the eyes of God, how the gift of the Holy Spirit he received against his will as an infant will now be stronger. That he shall resist the temptation of the Devil and sin better now. Grant can’t help feel like he’s sinning right now. That him just being here, existing in this moment, in this church as himself is a sin. The bishop rests his hand on Grant’s shoulder. Dipping his wrinkled fingers in the oil of Chrism, the smell is what hits Grant first as the bishop raises his hand to his forehead. The oil smells of dried flowers and perfume, it reminds him of how his grandma smells.
“Grant Ambrose Frank Wilson,” Hearing his confirmation name for the first time aloud by someone other than him is jarring. A cross is drawn on his forehead, the sweet smelling oil dripping down his face. “be sealed with the gift of the Holy Spirit.”
“Amen.” As Grant speaks the oil dribbles into his mouth slightly. Grant doesn’t remember if he’s supposed to close his eyes but he keeps them pressed right anyway. Lying to the bishop's face felt less wrong if he couldn’t see him.
“Peace be with you.” The bishop removes his hand. Opening his eyes, Grant glances over to his dad. He’s never seen him look more proud. Nothing Grant has ever done has made his dad look at him like he is right now.
“And with your spirit.” Tears prick at his eyes as he hopes desperately that everyone takes this as him being overwhelmed by the Holy Spirit. The bishop smiles at Grant and Darry as they walk back to their pew.
Bishop Lawrence goes back to preaching, beginning to wrap up the sermon. Grant wraps his arms around Casey as he slides back into his spot next to her. His crying is muffled into her chest as she returns the hug. Warmth spreads across her blouse as Grant continues to gently weep, she isn’t quite sure why he’s crying but she’s doing everything in her power to comfort Grant. Finally, finally, the service ends. Grant pulls away from Casey, wiping away his tears with his shirt sleeve. As the Wilsons get up from the pew, Casey takes Grant aside before Darryl and Carol can drag him away to show off to their church friends.
“Grant, bud, is something wrong?” Lying to his father is hard, lying to Bishop Lawrence was hard, lying to God is very impossible but he tries anyway. Looking up at his aunt, the freckles he has sprinkled across her face, her eyes full of concern and love, Grant can’t lie to her.
“Aunt Casey, can we go to Olive Garden tonight? Just us.” When Grant needs to talk to Casey they always go out for food, each place having a different connotation. Mc Donald’s was for when Grant wanted to hangout with her, Starbucks was for little problems, but Olive Garden? Olive Garden was for big problems. Grant has only asked to go to Olive Garden once before and that was after he lost the family dog. Casey reassured him that his dad didn’t hate him and that they’d find the dog soon. They never did but at least Grant got cheesecake that day.
“Oh, this is an Olive Garden sized issue?” Her voice is serious as she speaks. Grant nods, his eyes still glossy and face blotchy and red. Wrapping him up in one more hug, Casey tucks Grant underneath her arm, keeping him close to her side as she walks over to baby brother. “Darryl, hey, I was talking to Grant and he said his stomach isn’t feeling too well. I can take him home while you guys mingle.”
“Oh, Grant, you're not feeling good bud?” Darryl asks, looking concerned at Grant. At first Grant is confused by Casey's plan, but quickly he catches on. Holding his stomach and throwing a pained look on his face, Grant nods solemnly at his dad.
“Ah, you must have eaten some of the oil. Don’t worry I did the same thing when I was confirmed. Cas, you don’t have to take him home. Me and Carol can do that.”
“No, no, no. Let me take care of my nephew. You and Carol have fun talking to your church buds and I’ll take the little guy home.” Casey gives a sincere smile, which is enough to convince Darryl.
“Hmm, alrighty. Thanks Cas.” Darryl looks back to Grant who’s still acting like his stomach is upset. “Hey bud, sorry you’re not feeling great but I just want ya to know how proud I am of you.” The familiar hand of his dad tussles his hair as Grant avoids his dad’s eyes.
“T-thanks.” Is what Grant is able to mumble softly as him and Casey leave the church, strangers congratulating him as they walk by.
Once in the parking lot, Grant drops the act of being sick as he walks over to his dad's van. Digging around for a moment, Grant is able to find a sweatshirt. He jogs over to Casey’s pickup and hops in the passenger seat. After struggling to remove his tie, Grant slips into the sweatshirt, buckles up, and gives Casey the okay to drive. As per the ritual, Casey and Grant don’t speak in the car ride to the Olive Garden. Grant is deep in thought, not sure what exactly he’s going to tell Casey once they get there. Was he gonna come out for real? Or would he just tell her about how he feels about confirmation? Both? He could just make up something else, tell her about another thing that is bothering him. Twisting the strings that keep his bracelet on his wrists, he can’t look at Casey. Having left church so early, they’re pretty much the first people to get there before the lunch rush. Jumping down from the truck, Grant waits for Casey before he makes his way to the chain restaurant. Going through the motions that is Olive Garden, Casey asking for a booth seat, Grant sits nervously across from his aunt. For a little bit they talk about little things, waiting for their drinks, Casey ordering a glass of wine despite it being before noon. Taking small sips of his Mountain Dew, Grant feels Casey’s eyes on him, waiting patiently for him to speak. Letting out a deep sigh, he hides his shaking hands underneath the table, playing with the bracelet and not looking at his aunt.
“I- I’m… how do you feel about the Smiths?” Grant asks quietly, trying to gauge how Casey felt about people like him. The Smiths are a very outspoken family at their church, run a lot of the potlucks and fundraisers. They also held a lot more, conservative beliefs.
“Think they’re a bunch of bigots. Why do you ask?” Casey cocks up an eyebrow at Grant’s question. Relief fills his body at her answer. Grant shuts his eyes tight, doing his best to hype himself up.
“Aunt Casey I’m-“
“Are you two ready to order?” Grant is interrupted by their waiter. It always seems like wait staff knows the perfect time to come over and interrupt.
“Um, just alfredo and salad please.” What little confidence Grant was able to muster left.
“Chicken parm and the chicken gnocchi please and thank you.” Casey collects their menus and hands them to the waiter who nods and leaves them to continue talking. “Anyway, what were you saying, Grant?”
“I-it doesn’t matter. Don’t worry about it.” Realizing his hair is still up, Grant quickly removes the hair tie and let’s his hair fall down. Staring intensely at his drink, the beads of condensation rolling down the glass.
“You don’t have to be afraid to tell me anything okay kiddo?” Casey reaches her hands across the table, wrapping them around Grant’s. “Anything you tell me will not make me think less of you. That’s not how family works, little guy.”
“...promise?” Grant looks away from the glass, looking into Casey’s eyes.
“I promise with everything I got.” Flashing a smile to Grant, Casey can’t help but note how small he looks. He’s always been small to her, but his spirit is small.
“I’m-” his words get momentarily caught in his throat, he squeezes Casey’s hands back,
“I’m gay aunt Casey.” Unintentionally Grant has closed his eyes out of fear. The fear grows as the silence between them becomes deafening.
“Is that all kiddo?” Casey asks, which causes Grant's eyes to fly open. Searching her face for any signs of anger or disgust, Grant can’t find any.
“What do you mean?” His voice is tiny and shaky.
“Kid, I was worried someone had hurt you. You being gay is much better than what I thought you had to say.” Confusion fills Grant’s head as he slowly pulls his hands away from Casey’s.
“You’re not upset?” Grant runs his hands through his hair, trying to process this response.
“Why would I be upset?” The way she spoke, her words are genuine.
“Cause being gay is a sin and I was just confirmed and I’ve been lying to everyone this whole time.” The words spill out of Grant. He can’t understand why Casey is being so chill about this. The guilt pricks at the back of his mind again.
“ Oh Grant . Who told you that? You can’t choose if you’re gay or straight. That’s just how you are bud.” Casey coos, watching as Grant begins to crumple in on himself, shrinking into the faux leather of the booth’s seat.
“The bible, pastor John, bishop Lawrence, pretty much everyone in church when it’s brought up. I’ve always been told that.” The tears threaten to fall again as Grant wraps his arms around himself.
“I think God wouldn’t care but so many people say that they do and- I don’t know. What if God does care? Am I going to Hell? ”
Seeing the hot tears that begin to fall down her nephew’s face, Casey gets up from her side of the booth and joins Grant in his. Holding him close, giving him as good of a hug one can give in a cramped booth.
“You’re not going to Hell. God loves you for who you are and he made you the way you are. Don’t feel scared by the things idiots say about God’s love.” Her fingers gently comb through Grant’s hair. His head is throbbing, crying always gives him headaches.
“Ya know what? I should’ve told you sooner but I’m gay too.”
“You are?” Grant has always suspected Casey as not entirely straight but hearing her say it made him calm down greatly.
“Well yeah kiddo. You thought me and Janice are just really good friends?”
“I mean, yeah?”
“We are good friends but also more than that. She really doesn’t like to put labels on things so it’s just easier to say we’re friends.” Her voice is low and soft, trying to be a source of security for Grant.
“But yeah, I’m gay too.”
“ ...how do you deal with it? ” His voice is tiny as he leans into the hug, tears still gently rolling down his face.
“There’s nothing to deal with bud.” She lets out a quiet chuckle. “There’s nothing you or anyone else can do to change it. To change you.”
“Mmh… I get what you’re saying but I still feel bad.” He mumbles. “ Still feel scared and guilty. ”
“You don’t have to feel guilty or bad. You are perfectly normal Grant. I get being scared too. But hey, if anyone bothers you I’ll kick their ass.” Casey squeezes Grant a little tighter.
“I am not above punching a middle school if they’re being a dick. And I certainly have to qualms punching a bigoted church goer.”
“T-thanks aunt Casey.” Grant manages a small laugh.
“Can… can you not tell my parents? You’re the first adult I told besides coach Darnell.”
“Of course! My lips are sealed until you’re ready to let them know.” Casey pulls away from the hug to squish Grant’s face between her hands.
“Hey, if you ever have any questions or just wanna talk about this with me, I’m here.”
“I will.” He flashes her a smile, his face red and stained with tears. Taking her thumb, Casey wipes away the remainder of his tears away.
“No more crying today alright? Rest of this Grant and aunt Casey date is gonna be laughs only.” She holds out her pinkie out to Grant.
“Pinkie Promise?”
“Pinkie promise.” Grant fills his eyes, feeling a little too old for this. Still, he hooks his pinkie around Casey’s and gives their hands a shake.