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Vincent shifted uncomfortably as he stared at his feet. Do they have to keep it so hot in this office? He was no stranger to working in warm buildings with minimal AC, but the Italian summer was proving unexpectedly difficult. He was also no stranger to awkward conversations, and yet that too seemed to be going belly up today.
Ray was squinting at the words on the sticky note Vincent had handed him, as if trying to read a grocery list written in illegible handwriting. He knew Ray could read what he had written, the two of them exchanged notes almost constantly over the short course of his papacy. Oh dear perhaps he suspects. Still, it was his only chance to gain access to the information he was looking for, and he needed that information desperately.
When he and his beloved Thomas had finally come to the conclusion that there was nothing inherently sinful about potentially breaking their vows together, they had assumed that, however fumbling and inexperienced they were, they would have at least some instinct on what to do. Afterall, newlywed Catholics all over the world managed to figure it out everyday…But perhaps they had an advantage from undergoing premarital counseling, or maybe it was just easier to figure it out if you were a man and a woman. Vincent suspected it was the latter; he had, after all, provided premarital counseling to many couples, and it had apparently given him no useful insights at all.
That night when the two of them had finally summoned up the nerve to try for the first time, it had been…well, not disastrous per say, but about as far from instinctual as something could be. Neither of them had any clue what to do with their hands or what they should say or even how they should lay on the bed together. They had shyly started off laying on opposite edges of the mattress before admitting that they would need to get closer to actually do much of anything. They had eventually inched over and bridged the gap, only to restart the question of what to do next.
Vincent didn’t want to seem ungrateful for the whole experience; it was precious to him to have his beloved trust him enough to share in something so vulnerable, and he had enjoyed getting to mirror their emotional intimacy in a physical way, but he also knew that if he wanted this to be at all physically satisfying for either of them, he was going to need to expand his understanding of the topic.
But how? This wasn’t like when he was sixteen and his friends would go ask the older boys at school for advice about their girlfriends. There wasn’t anyone he could ask. He knew that apparently the Vatican was full of men doing the same, there was said to be an air of that sort of thing around here, but he wouldn’t know who those individuals were, and he wasn’t about to play a guessing game of who was or wasn’t a homsexual. Technically the papal doctor was sworn to confidentiality, but all it took was one leak and he would forever be the pope who had asked about sodomy. He had considered searching on the internet, but he figured whoever managed the Vatican wifi was even less secure than his doctor (not to mention, he was slightly afraid of what he might see if he looked up his questions on the unfiltered environment of the web.) Eventually, he had remembered Ray offering to check out novels for him at the public library of Rome if he ever got bored, and had hatched a plan.
He had gone to the library website and, being careful to never search the topic directly or click on any scandalous books, made a list of the titles that had seemed relevant. He had been relieved to find a plethora of helpful looking content: The Manual for Men Who Love Men, The Joys of Gay Sex, Holy Sex!: A Catholic Guide to Lovemaking, He had scribbled a dozen or so of them onto the sticky note that O’Malley was now scrutinizing.
“I thought…perhaps they would be good research material to prepare for…the upcoming synod meeting about homosexuality in the Church.” He lied. He hated lying. It always left him with a residual feeling of shame, like a thick blanket of smog over the soul. And besides that, he was terrible at it. From the time he was a small child no one had ever bought his fibs; people always saw through his dishonesty. Oh Lord, he prayed, forgive me for my deceit…but please also let my privacy and dignity remain intact. There was an excruciatingly long silence between his fabricated reasoning and the Monsignior’s response.
“Yes Your Holiness…I understand.” He sounded as though perhaps he understood a little too well. At the very least he sounded as though he found the explanation he had been given suspect. Was it truly that implausible that he would want further information about what homosexuals were doing before weighing in on the matter?
Oh, why had he thought it was a good idea to choose ‘homosexuality in the church’ as his cover story? Ray was likely realizing he was currently speaking to ‘homosexuality in the church.’ These last two years they had been working so well together and now he had utterly scandalized the man. Their friendship was going to become awkward at best and shattered at worst. Maybe he should have taken his chances with the internet, at least then he could have claimed that he let someone else borrow his laptop.
It saddened him to think of losing not just one of his strongest allies, but also one of the first friends he had made here. Thomas may have been the one to officially welcome him to the conclave, but Ray had been the one to see to the practical work of welcoming him, finding him a room and choir dress and toiletries. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me. Even in the first weeks, when he had not yet accepted what he had discovered about the clinic, the man had treated him with the same dignity as any other child of God. He had always staunchly followed the most vital commandment to love one another as Christ loved us.
Well, if this was the line in the sand where that love ended, Vincent supposed it was best to know now. Better to be despised for who one was than loved for who they were not. They would just have to find a way of staying professional after this all blew up.
“If it’s…information…you’re looking for,” Ray began, Vincent bracing himself for whatever he would say, “Then perhaps I’m in a unique position to help.”
A…unique position to help? Perhaps the monsignor hadn’t seen through his lie after all. He didn’t seem horrified by the implications, so perhaps he hadn’t picked up on them? No…he was still far too embarrassed looking to be blind about what was going on. Unless…No….Was he implying that he was…? Vincent certainly never would have suspected the man, but then again, he had never had a good sense of these things. His freshman roommate from seminary had ended up leaving to go work in a drag bar, and he’d been the only one surprised by the fact. But Ray continued.
“One of my cousins’ and his…partner…well, if you have questions about…all that…I’m sure he’d be willing to answer them. I could tell him I have a friend who needs…advice, and you could write to him. And if neither of us remembered to mention your name, well, I’m sure he wouldn’t question it, it’s a private topic after all.” He still wasn’t meeting Vincent’s eye, but his tone...it was practically the vocal equivalent of a conspiratorial wink!
“And he is comfortable answering any questions I might have?...for the synod that is.”
This earned him a scoff.
“Lord yes, he’s perhaps a little too comfortable sharing if you ask me! It’s not that I’m disapproving, it takes all kinds after all, but there are some things one simply doesn’t want to know about his cousin.” He shuddered.
This was more than Vincent could have prayed for. His indiscretion hadn’t cost him his friend as he had feared, but earned him help, and a potential new ally in this new endeavor. He feels a momentary shame for doubting Ray. The man had always voiced his desire for a more progressive church, always encouraged Vincent in his attempts at reform, and never let his own discomfort get in the way of his principles. Since the moment he had discovered the clinic in Geneva he had never once treated Vincent as lesser or undeserving of his position. Why would any of that change now?
“I think that would be helpful, I think I’d like to write to him if it’s not too much trouble.”
“Of course, I’ll let him know he can expect a letter in the mail soon.”
“And Ray,”
“Yes Holy Father?”
“Thank you.” He answered softly.
“It’s no trouble Your Holiness,” he replied, “But that said, would you allow me to install a VPN on your personal laptop? For private searches and all that. It’s not that I mind helping with personal projects…but perhaps some of them should stay personal.”
He flushed at the confirmation that Ray understood exactly what he was up to. But he had to agree with the sentiment, and if this ‘VPN’ thing made research a little easier, well, it was worth the embarrassment.
“That would be most appreciated, my friend.”