Free A Younger Man by Cameron Dane

Noah viewed him as a charity case, poisoned the jitters in Noah’s belly and propelled him forward recklessly. “He’s a young man with responsibility for his younger brother and sister. I came across him when he was in a tough spot, and did what I could. But he’s clearly resourceful and will be on his feet and thriving again soon.”
    Janice continued to study Noah closely. In her green eyes, Noah could see the thirty years of friendship and knowledge they shared. Shit. He’d known the woman since they were both eleven-year-old kids.
    “What’s his name?” Janice pressed.
    “Za—” Activity at the open door to the house had Noah twisting to look over his shoulder. Oh wow.
    “Dad. Hi.” As Noah looked upon his father, the man still more blond than gray, his throat grew tight. Visible discomfort shaded his father’s face. Shaking the heartache, Noah turned to his silver-haired mother. “Mom.” He rushed to the stoop to give her a hug and kiss. “I didn’t know you were here.”
    Standing a pace behind Noah, Janice gently squeezed his arm. “It wasn’t planned.” The way she rubbed his arm, still so familiar, told Noah she would have called him to keep him in the loop if she’d had the time. “But I was happy to see Cathy and Hoyt when I opened the door a bit ago.”
    Noah’s mom hugged him in return but then pulled to stand next to Noah’s dad. “We were having brunch after church with Norman and Hilary,” Cathy shared, mentioning Noah’s old neighbors. “We decided to walk over to say hi to Matthew.”
    From the truck, Noah’s son shouted, “It’s Matt now!”
    Hoyt sent a thumbs-up Matt’s way. “Gotcha, kiddo.”
    Noah stared at his dad, who kept his focus on his grandson, and he silently told himself not to dwell on the stabbing sensation digging repeatedly into his gut. Instead, Noah put on a happy face and turned to his mother. “I know you said you just ate, but you’re welcome to join us anyway.” His gazed darted to his dad; he couldn’t help it. “You could have coffee, and we could all catch up.”
    Cathy gave Noah another fast hug and then moved toward the drive. “We’ve already been rude to leave our hosts for as long as we have. We should really get back.”
    Hardly making contact, Hoyt grabbed Noah’s hand and shook it. “Son.” His lips barely moved, and in fast strides he was at his wife’s side.
    “Bye, dear.” Cathy waved and then linked her hand in her husband’s elbow. “We’ll call you soon.”
    As Noah watched his parents walk away, it felt as if huge chunks of his very being fell off his body and crumbled into the grass at his feet. Their rejection, but particularly that of his father, scraped away a little more every day at the choice Noah had made to face his sexuality. More than that, with every frustrating, lonely day that went by, greater doubt crept in, and made Noah question if what he’d gained in his life could match the many things he’d lost, and if in the end he’d made the right choice.
    Janice rubbed Noah’s arm again. “Try not to let it hurt you. They’ll come around.”
    “I don’t know if they will.” Rust coated Noah’s words, and it hurt his throat to talk. “I think I just lucked out with you. Most everybody is more like them. Polite but,” he struggled to explain the volatile emotions roiling inside him right now, “they act as though they don’t know me anymore, like if they touch me for more than a second they’re going to catch the gayness I’m apparently carrying around like a disease. It’s like I’m a different species now or something.”
    Stepping in front of Noah, Janice gave him the eye contact his parents no longer would. “In their minds you were their straight son for forty-one years. Married and with kids too; everything they expected in their only child. Certainly they always were and are very proud of you, but you also never once threw them any real surprises in that time.” Her vocation as a