See Dot Smile

Lying for Love

Marcus was home schooled through middle school, so when he materialized in the hallways in ninth grade, no one really knew what to make of him. He was and always has been painfully shy, quiet, introverted, special. 

When some of Marcus' teachers noted his behavior at school and suggested that he be evaluated, his father refused, saying it was just an opportunity for the school to shine a light on everything that is wrong with Marcus and exploit it.

Tom says it's because Marcus's dad is afraid. That if Marcus finds his voice, the light will really be shined on him and what a monster he is.

Whether an evaluation would find anything 'wrong' with Marcus is irrelevant, because we all love him. Just as he is.

And Tom would move the sun and moon for him. 

* * * * * 

Marcus and I have something in common. We can't lie to our parents.

My reasons for wanting to be truthful have less to do with fear of my parents' wrath than fear of losing their trust and all the privileges that come with it. This is why I decide to tell them precisely what I plan to do for Tom and Marcus, without giving them specifics on what Tom and Marcus will be doing for each other in our basement for two hours while they're at church.

They listen considerately to my plan, including the part that involves lying point blank to Marcus's dad about where I'm taking him. They make like they're mulling it over. Exchange a look that's not so much 'where did we go wrong?' as 'who are you and what did you do with our boring daughter?', and ultimately concede, with the understanding that if either Marcus or Tom's parents ask them about the arrangement, they will not lie on anyone's behalf.

I consider this an acceptable risk to take in the name of true love.

Now I have to lie to Marcus, which is hard. He feels safe with me, and I'm praying my decision to mislead him and undermine his father doesn't send him running from me. Or from Tom.

Bud and I meet for breakfast on Saturday to execute phase one of the plan. I text Marcus from Bud's phone the following coded message:

Bud: Hi Marcus. It's Dorothea. I haven't seen you at school. Did you still want to come to church with me this weekend? Service starts at 10am. I know you'll want to ask your parents. Let me know.  🐺⛪☀️ I hope you're okay. Blessed be.

Okay, I'm cringing at the last part. It was Bud's idea, and I guess it isn't terrible. We gorge ourselves on pancakes while we wait for Marcus to respond. It takes forty-five minutes.

Marcus: Yes. Please pick me up on Sunday. What time?

Bud: 9:30.

Marcus: Okay. See you then.

Bud: Praise Jesus.

I smack Bud's hand and tell him he's not allowed to send DGLS text messages anymore.

* * * * *

While lying to Marcus feels icky, lying to his criminally overbearing father is a piece of cake. I assume Marcus got his sweet face and disposition from his mother because his dad is a walking dog turd of a human being. He's all curt and perfunctory with me, and I just beam back at him like I've been hand delivered by angels to carry his youngest son to the promised land, where gay people don't exist.

His dad wants him home no later than noon, and he wants a copy of the church bulletin as proof Marcus was really there.

This will not be a problem because Bud is going to church this morning.

I tell him he can just run in, grab a bulletin and bail, but he wants to go. He says he's never been to church and wants to see where Joshua and I grew up and fell in love.

When I remind him only one of us fell, he smiles widely at me and says, "Bullshit."

I'm really starting to like Bud. A lot.

I've always secretly thought Marcus was a genius. His ability to play along with my epic dishonesty campaign is amazing. He doesn't flinch when he sees that 'Dorothea' from 'unknown number' is me, which tells me he figured it out right away. He also doesn't question the direction we're going for the entire ride to 'church'. Still, when we pull into my driveway, I start preparing myself. He might freak out. And if he does, it's okay. 

Time to come clean.

"He's here?" he asks, looking out the window toward my house.

My mouth hangs open as I reconfigure the sentence that almost came out into a new one. "I'm sorry I lied," I say. "I didn't know how else to get you here."

He turns to face me. He's glowing. "Thank you," he says. "Can I see him?"

"Yeah. Yes," I stammer. "I'll take you."

I really thought I would be the sturdy one in this situation and Marcus would be the nervous wreck. But he's the picture of Zen, as I fluster over the faulty latch of the walkout door. I lead him through the laundry room and into the living area where Tom is waiting on the couch. The card castle he was building topples over the second Marcus enters the room.

"Hi," Tom says, breathily. He stands up, wrings his hands, runs them through his dark hair, then in and out of his pockets.

Marcus moves closer, and Tom starts talking. Fast. "If this is too scary, it's okay. Dot can take you home or she can take you to church so you're not lying. I want you to feel safe. I didn't know what else to do and Dot said she would--"

Marcus stops Tom's mouth with a kiss, and I cover my own to disguise an involuntary gasp. 

In all the years they've be dating in secret, I've never seen them kiss. I don't think anyone has. It's beautiful and I can't look away. I'm afraid if I stop seeing the kiss, it will end, and I never want it to end for them.

I open my mouth to tell them I'm leaving and catch a glimpse of bare skin as Marcus lifts the hem of Tom's shirt. As far as they're concerned, I'm already gone. I turn silently and tiptoe my way outside, closing the door behind me and inhaling a slow, deep breath of January air.

I wipe a stream of tears from my cheek and feel a buzz in my back pocket.

Bud: I'm going crazy. Did everything go okay?

Dot: Perfect.

Bud: Wow. You're an amazing friend.

Dot: I'm okay.

Bud: You suck at taking compliments.

Dot: LOL. How's church?

Bud: I like it. I like all the singing.

Dot: Me too. What's happening now?

Bud: The bald guy is talking. Going on minute 20 without breathing.

Dot: Ha! That's the sermon. That's when Joshua and I would sneak down to the basement and hide in the closet together.

Bud: Sounds nice.

Dot: It was.

Bud: What are you going to do now?

Dot: Sit in my car.

Bud: Want company?

Dot: I do.

Bud: On my way. I'll pick up coffee. Cream and two sugars?

Dot: 😊Yes please.            

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