My Journey Home To You

By Gerald Lopez

Life can be a journey with many twists and turns. Little does Connor Kramer know that what starts off as an ordinary day in his life will be anything but the usual. A surprise encounter with his old secret crush Scott Burke will change his life in ways he never could’ve imagined.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gerald Lopez
• Release date: Oct 3, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463891636

Gerald Lopez

Gerald was called to write at various times in his life. When he was young, the writing consisted of plays and short stories. Then he explored the fine arts and literature, earning a bachelor’s degree in the latter while minoring in art history. In his studies he was fascinated by and enjoyed analyzing characters, their personalities and motivations. To him it’s always been the characters who make a story special. Once again writing has taken hold of him. In the past it was just an amusement, but now—for Gerald—writing is a passion to live, eat, and breathe.

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Copyright © 2019 by Gerald Lopez

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Wherever possible, the syntax and spelling in this book follows guidelines set forth in The Chicago Manual of Style, 14th Edition, and in the Merriam-Webster online dictionary.

Cover Art Copyright © 2019 by Gerald Lopez

Acknowledgments

My special thanks go to the following:

To John for his helpful comments and suggestions.

To my Beta readers, for their comments, and often extremely helpful suggestions.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Contact the author

About the author

Other books by Gerald Lopez

My Journey Home

To You

Gerald Lopez

Chapter 1

Radio Daze

WHILE HE LISTENED to an interview on the radio, Scott Burke towel dried his hair after having taken a shower.

You’re doing good there, buddy, keep it up, he said to an empty room.

He spoke to the radio as if his old chum from high school could actually hear him. It was absurd but made him chuckle as he returned the used, damp towel to the bathroom then went back to his bedroom and dressed. Hearing Connor’s voice on the radio had come as a shock to him. And the message he was sharing with the audience was an important one. The radio station wasn’t far from Scott’s house—it was right on the old downtown square. His decision to go there was made in haste so that he wouldn’t have time to back out. Not much thought had gone into what he picked to wear—just tan shorts, a light blue polo shirt, and slip-on shoes sans socks. Casual was what was called for in this instance. To try to do anything more formal or deliberately planned would bring out the coward in him and he wouldn’t go—and Connor would never even know he’d heard him on the radio. After brushing his neatly cut, golden brown hair in the mirror, Scott grabbed his truck keys off the dresser, put his wallet in his back pocket, and a handkerchief in his front pocket along with his phone, then headed out.

The closer Scott got to the radio station the faster his heart beat, so he focused completely on what Connor was saying in the radio interview. When Scott drove past the historic district Connor was telling the radio host interviewing him about how the LGBTQ community was just like everyone else. They could be someone’s brother, sister, or neighbor. Most of the time the only thing that set them apart was that they loved members of their same sex. But there was nothing to keep them from serving on church boards or school boards. They should be vetted just like anyone else would be—no more and no less.

Amen, to that, Connor.

Scott felt so proud of his friend that was now an up-and-coming playwright. Friend—he’d always thought of Connor as a friend, although they’d never really spent time together. Funny that, Scott thought.

The palm trees in the square came into view as did the brown brick buildings of the old downtown. Scott found a place to park then took his keys out of the ignition and sat a while. He felt paralyzed for a moment as fear entered his body.

What am I doing here? he thought. There’s no reason Connor should remember me. We’re both in our thirties now and high school was such a long time ago. And if I walk up to him after he’s done this whole radio thing about the LGBTQ community then people will talk.

At his age the fact he still cared what people thought made him shudder and feel slightly ashamed. His attention turned to the radio broadcast again as it was ending and Connor was giving his final thoughts.

Jesus loves us. For too long people have tried to separate gay men from not only the Christian church but from having a real, loving relationship with our savior Jesus Christ. As gay men too many of us have let our own inner shame and disgust put up barriers between us and him. And all Jesus wants to do is love us.

Is it all really that simple? the radio host said. Can any love really be that uncomplicated?

Sometimes I think we mere humans just complicate things, Connor said.

You couldn’t be more right, Connor, Scott said. He turned off the radio, opened the door, then walked across the street and waited nervously outside the radio station for Connor to appear.

Scott didn’t have long to wait. Soon a happy and smiling Connor walked out of the four-story building. He was dressed in similar fashion to Scott only his shorts were red and blue plaid and his polo shirt red. His shoes of preference were also slip-ons.

Hey, there, Scott said. Nice of you to dress up for that interview.

Connor stopped and turned. His smile grew even wider as he walked toward Scott then spoke.

Hi, stranger. It’s been a while. He tried to shake Scott’s hand, but was pulled into a big hug instead. That took him by surprise.

The sudden hug had come as a surprise to Scott too even though he’d been the one to initiate it.

I’m so proud of you, buddy, Scott whispered in Connor’s ear.

If you don’t let go of me, people will talk, Connor said.

I don’t think I care, Scott said, before he’d realized what he was saying. He tried to cover for what he’d said as he let go of Connor and chuckled. Folks will just think one of us is trying to convert the other.

They’ll think I’m trying to convert you to the dark side and you’re trying to save my soul, Connor said.

Which one of us will they declare the winner? Scott said, then smiled. From what I recall, you don’t need saving. You’ve always had a healthy relationship with our Lord. Do you need converting? he chuckled, then looked down at the ground.

Not really.

You did good in there, Connor—with the interview.

Thanks, Scotty, I appreciate those kind words.

Heck, at least you recognized me, bud. I wasn’t sure you would.

You still look like the all-American boy next door, Connor said, then ran his hand through Scott’s side parted hair. And you have all your hair still too—amazing."

Scott chuckled then spoke. I also still have my own teeth—imagine that. You still have lush, thick, black hair but you’ve gone gray on the sides—nice. It makes you look distinguished.

Only we know better, right? Connor said.

Yeah, Scott said. I’ve come to treat the radio star to lunch—wherever you want.

Not that I don’t appreciate the offer, Scotty, but did you listen to the radio broadcast?

Every word of it from beginning to end. Well, I might’ve missed the first five minutes, but that was all.

"That may have been the part where they introduced me as an up-and-coming gay playwright. The gay part being significant in this very large but small-minded, central Florida town."

Guess I was wrong then, Scott said. I did catch the whole interview. I’m getting hungry and my truck’s parked right across the street.

It may not be the best thing in the world for the pastor’s son to be seen running around with an out gay man, Connor said. If you’re not gonna worry about how that will look then—

Please don’t say no, Connor. It wasn’t easy for me to come here… but here I am. This is just about having lunch together. If you want dinner too then we’ll have to go Dutch.

They both chuckled then Connor spoke.

If you think that you’re ready for any possible repercussions then lead the way, Connor said.

I’m not sure I’m ready for anything, to be honest, Scott said.

Chapter 2

Getting Reacquainted

I CAN’T BELIEVE Connor Kramer is back in town and a radio star, Scott said, when they were in his truck.

"And I can’t believe I’m sitting here next to the Scott Burke. I’m no radio star—just a writer on whom lady luck finally decided to shine."

That’s not such a bad thing, Scott said. So where we eating?

Is it true there’s a Cheesecake Factory restaurant here now?

In the beaches area. You wouldn’t recognize that part of town, there’s been so much growth. He put the key in the ignition, started his truck and backed out. But he couldn’t help looking at Connor and smiling.

Connor smiled back but was slightly confused about things. Scott, are you sure you don’t have me mixed up with some long, lost relative? We weren’t exactly friends when we were younger.

Maybe I’m starstruck, Scott said.

They were silent for a few minutes then Connor spoke.

I don’t like silence, it makes me nervous.

Really? Scott said. Why?

When I was in elementary school the teachers told my parents I was ‘abnormally’ quiet.

Hmm… I don’t remember that at all. In fact, didn’t you get in trouble for talking a few times.

You have a good memory, Scott. I did indeed get in trouble for talking too much. Your family didn’t move to town until you were in the fourth grade, the ‘too quiet thing’ was when I was in the third grade.

What the heck do people know anyway? Scott said. They should just let us be ourselves. I mean, I get that there needs to be discipline of some sort—not corporal though. But who were those people to tell your parents whether or not you were too quiet?

Connor was surprised to hear the anger in Scott’s voice.

That was a long time ago, Scotty. I’m getting to the point where I’ve been able to let go of the past. The writing has helped a lot. Somehow writing about the things that happened to me helps me move on.

That’s a good thing, right?

Oh yeah, I think so. But enough about my writing for now. He looked at Scott’s CD player and commented. What kind of music do you listen to in the car?

Scott stopped Connor from hitting the play button by gently pushing his hand away.

That’s private, Buddy. But, hey, we can always talk about your writing.

It’s a mighty fine day we’re having, don’t you think? Connor said.

They both laughed and were silent again. It gave Connor a chance to not only think but to also take a good look at Scott.

Connor didn’t think it was possible for his lifetime crush—Scott—to get better looking but he had. His jaw was more chiseled than ever and his gray-blue eyes sparkled like they always did when he smiled. And that smile—God—the smile still sent shivers through his entire body. The man just had to say the word and Connor would deny him nothing. Connor gently slapped himself on the side of the face.

Whoa, Connor, you were deep in thought there for a few minutes but what was with the slap, buddy?

Nothing—just trying to wake myself from my own stupidity.

Scott chuckled. C’mon, tell me, what was so stupid?

It’s too idiotic to say out loud.

There’s only us two, c’mon.

OK then, I’ll tell you. I was thinking about your… um… your… your great hair. I like how you always have it slightly longer on top so when you brush it to the side it sort of swoops down.

Ewww, you really are gay, Scott said, then chuckled.

Ha, ha, Connor said. Good thing I didn’t mention the rest.

What rest?

Oh no, preacher’s boy, you aren’t getting any other info till you feed me.

Then what do I get?

You’re being really bad today. I don’t remember ever seeing this side of you.

Because I’m not sure it was ever there until today.

You’re being serious, aren’t you, Scotty?

Yeah.

What brought it out in you today of all days? Connor said. What’s so special about this day?

Everything—and to almost everyone but me it’s probably just an ordinary day.

Are you including me in ‘everyone’?

Probably, Scott said.

Why?

"Because you’re too in it to see it like I do."

"It being?"

You. There was a long pause as Scott moved into another lane so he could get on the highway. Where’s all this traffic coming from?

I don’t know, Connor said. But then I’m feeling as if I haven’t got a clue about anything—like why I’m even in this car with someone I haven’t spoken to in years.

Because you’re fearless like you’ve always been and you know I wanted you to come. You’ve always been kind to people in that way.

Connor thought about what Scott had said for a moment, then spoke in a low, calm voice trying to hide his nervousness at what he was about to ask.

Scotty, what’s the ‘it’ you were talking about earlier?

Your interview on the radio, dummy. You were doing the show—it—so you didn’t really get to feel the full impact of your words. Everything you mentioned made a lot of sense in a way that seemed easy to comprehend. Yet there was so much deep and profound truth in your words. Maybe you have a prophetic gifting.

I don’t believe in those kind of labels, Connor said. If I really believed I was some sort of modern day prophet I might walk around downtown dressed in a white sheet holding a sign and saying Jesus is coming.

Sorry.

No, don’t be sorry. I’m still a Christian, even though from some of the things I’ve seen I’m not overly fond of that word. Sometimes I just say I love Jesus and try to do his will that’s all. Heck if I went around saying I was a Christian I just wouldn’t feel right cursing out someone who cuts me off while I’m driving. Or yelling at one of those phone sales people.

Scott chuckled. You do have a strange point there. And you’re as quick on your feet as ever. It reminds me of when we were Clowns for Christ and used to go to nursing homes.

Oh my God, you remember that. How do you even recall me in it?

You used to write our scripts.

But you were the one that could do all the fancy and fun acrobatics.

No one’s speaking voice ever compared to yours, Connor. You could dominate any space.

We never spoke though. You and me.

Once in a while—like when you gave stage directions. God, I am just so… so—oh forget it.

"No what were you gonna say? That I have pretty eyes that just light up a room."

You do have real purty gold specks in them there brown eyes of yours, Scott said, and chuckled. OK I’m only gonna say this one more time otherwise I’d risk sounding like a dummy. I don’t think I’ve ever been so proud of someone as I am of you right now. Feel free to call me an idiot if need be.

It’s nice to hear you say you’re proud of me. And it means more than I can say for reasons you’ll probably never know fully.

Scott gulped. He’d opened a door he wasn’t ready to go through at present, and he tried to change the subject quickly.

We’re almost right on top of The Cheesecake Factory. I hope you’re hungry.

You’re treating so I’ll definitely indulge.

They were silent again as Scott turned right to get on the exit ramp.

You were always such a great acrobat, Connor said. I was never that flexible or athletic. But I walked an hour a day—still do—and worked in the yard, so my arms were strong. People thought I was more of a weakling than I actually was."

They were in the mall parking lot where The Cheesecake Factory was located and Scott pulled into a parking space. He shut the truck off and turned to Connor. The look on his face was so serious that Connor backed away toward the door.

"Let me tell you something, Connor Kramer. You are one of—if not—the strongest, bravest and most fearless people I’ve ever met, period. I can’t speak for some of those jerks in middle school or high school, but I’ve never thought of you as a weakling, coward, or any such thing."

OK, I believe you, Connor said. "Why are you so intense—no—why am I here?