Two Roads Back Together

By Shay D. Potter

In the fall of 2010, the repeal of Don't Ask, Don't Tell captured the nation's attention.

Life just got more complicated for Shy Cole, a non-binary military officer struggling with their identity and budding attraction to their supervisor. Their mother, Evelyn Cole, and the world around them expect them to live conservatively, even at the expense of their own happiness. Until the repeal of the Don't Ask, Don't Tell policy, Shy could lead such a life, but now their identity and military career are in jeopardy. Shy can't help but wonder, did they make the right choice for themself?

Evelyn Cole is surprised by how much the DADT policy will impact her life in the coming months. Once Evelyn discovers the truth about Shy, she must re-examine her perception of the past and present. As a result, she questions everything, including her faith and role as a mother.

The decision Shy and Evelyn face will either reunite them as parent and child or separate them once and for all.

Set against the backdrop of a contemporary neighborhood in Los Angeles and a military base in Southeastern Arizona, Shay Potter's debut novel thoughtfully examines acceptance, love, and camaraderie with beautiful, lyrical prose. Two Roads Back Together chronicles a journey of self-discovery and explores family relationships, challenges, and deeply ingrained fears. Perhaps most importantly, it shows we can rise above the limitations we place on ourselves and others.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Be Better Media LLC
• Release date: Aug 30, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201258726

Book preview

PART ONE

Chapter 1

Every one and every thing had a place. She led a neat and orderly way of life, even down to the tucked and frayed edges, delicately smoothed away from plain sight—Ms. Evelyn Cole could not imagine living any other way.

The proud woman sat comfortably amidst friends in the dimly lit space of her favorite room of her cozy condo. Above the city fringe, this was her oasis. The dazzling ceiling-to-floor windows gave Evelyn a panoramic view of her neighbors enjoying the park pond across the street. She watched as bicyclists rolled on the bike path past the tall palm trees. Elderly and middle-aged couples walked hand-in-hand in the brisk air. Joggers passed by, delighted by the gaggle of ducks swimming in the water and soft, rolling hills ahead of their running route. 

As she surveyed her little kingdom, Evelyn was content. The TV was playing at low volume level in the background while the group of five graceful women ate soft cookies and treats, the genteel company enjoying a light refreshment in her cozy space. They were flipping through the Macy’s Department Store catalog, talking excitedly over the 2010 Fall Collection. Evelyn glanced around at the simple yet elegant furnishings. She had created her own world with filters she controlled. Out in the world, it was normal these days for people to talk about things that were only spoken of in whispers years ago, and to not bat an eye about them. Even women, now, talked about things that would make an old-school Madame blush. But here, in Evelyn’s insulated world, she was safe from all that she chose to ignore, even the unpleasantries of life. In her youth she’d been sheltered by conservative parents who wished to raise a well-cultured, little black girl capable of freely playing, always dressed impeccably in well-made little dresses and black patent leather shoes, and able to frolic as wide and long as a child would like. Little Evelyn would dance, and skip, and hop along the narrow streets in South Brooklyn, but the burden of duty never reached her. But times had changed. And there were days like today when Evelyn yearned to return to that precious world, if only for a brief second, just to feel the unharnessed wind of joy beneath her again.

Evelyn, now in her early 60s, took a sip of her jasmine tea and glanced fondly around the room overlooking the hills of west Los Angeles. The ladies present all admired the stylish dress of the 1960s greats: Diana Ross, Diahann Carroll, even the posh Jacqueline Kennedy. They often rummaged through fresh, glossy magazines of Nordstrom’s, Macy’s, and, on special occasions, Fifth Avenue, always searching for the latest dresses, shoes, handbags, and coats. It was a quiet, appropriate activity for a group of God-fearing church women to engage in. Sundays, after all, were a day for the Lord and required one to look one’s best. And if the women also enjoyed a delightful, harmless sartorial competition at the same time, why, surely the Lord wouldn’t mind.

These women came from backgrounds like Evelyn’s, though the senior church matriarch, Mrs. Geraldine Mae Robinson, was from the sticks of the Louisiana Delta. Mrs. Robinson had a bit of a fancy southern drawl which Evelyn adored; she thought it made the elder that much more regal and debonaire and enjoyed hearing this godly woman lead the Wednesday Bible study. Mrs. Robinson took delight in her appointed role and held on to it with a fierce determination which Evelyn admired. She often hosted these get-togethers and relegated herself to tending to the needs of the older members, passing out refreshments and refilling teacups. But she didn’t mind. Evelyn was used to pleasing others, and she did it well. And though she played second to Mrs. Robinson, she didn’t mind, and instead watched with awe this faithful and trusted woman in the church as she taught from the Good Book. Geraldine Mae was the perfect example of the modern Christian woman. She also had a son who was a drummer at the church. He was handsome and very respectful, at least the few times Evelyn had met him. She had hinted more than once that Keisha should get to know him better, but her daughter continued to ignore Evelyn’s playful nudges. Evelyn sighed. She could only hope her daughter would eventually find a young beau as sweet as that nice church boy.

The Bible study had concluded and now the ladies snacked and chatted about family mishaps, children and grandchildren, and other small talk. This feminine space was a place to just enjoy the company of other like-minded, faithful women. But the TV suddenly flashed with a bright red banner proclaiming BREAKING NEWS, which caught several eyes and hushed the group. Evelyn, turn it up, dear, Mrs. Robinson directed as Evelyn reached for the remote.

The lead anchor stared solemnly at the camera, shoulders back and voice ringing clearly. … which begs the question: should the military allow gays to serve openly? The ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ policy has been in effect since 1993, when it was enacted by the Clinton Administration. Liberal blue dogs and military traditionalists were largely on the same page, and the issue has largely been non-existent until President Obama took office. Now, Congress will add ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ to a growing list of major policies it will review this term. Stay tuned after the break to hear our guest, Olympia Snowe, tell us why she disagrees with overturning the 16-year policy. The Republican candidate from Maine is a pro-DADT supporter who claims repealing DADT would weaken our Army. We’ll find out what she has to say when we return.

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A FLOOD OF SOFT light filled the small corner of the living room where Shy settled into the pillowy cradle of their favorite recliner. They loved this room and how it was peacefully situated to overlook the southeastern Arizona skyline of jagged, snow-capped mountains in the distance, a view which often held their gaze. Inside the room, books sat snug within the floor-to-ceiling built-in bookcase. There were hundreds of short and long titles filling the off-white shelves, mostly Greek mythology and social theory, ranging from both famous and obscure Black poets to weighty academic tomes.

Shy delightedly disappeared into their evening read, one with a philosophical message, as they reached out for their glass of spiced rum and coke, their eyes never leaving the page; but the glass was nearly empty. The TV played unnoticed in the background.

Shy marked their place with a post-it note, one filled with tiny scribbling to remind them of their upcoming therapy session, then got up for a refill. As they returned to the chair, they noticed the news banner on TV. It was the jumble-coded letters that broke through Shy’s usual stoic and stiff facade: the DADT Repeal Act was now on the Congress floor for debate. 

Change was blowing in. Or was it? Shy was well aware that Don’t Ask Don’t Tell allowed gay servicemembers to serve in the military as long as they buttoned up their lifestyle; no one would ask if you were gay, but you weren’t supposed to talk about it either. Well, in theory, that is. Instead, Shy saw first-hand that gay people in the ranks were being hunted out and driven into the light, only to be publicly humiliated and willfully removed from service. This time, would the leaders and the Nation get it right? 

Olympia Snowe, a Republican currently running for Senate, was expressing her dissenting views with the Administration’s choice to get rid of DADT. …And we must protect our military members at all costs. We did not design the military to be a social experiment, and I am telling my constituents I will do everything within my power to preserve our traditions. Shy had clearly missed most of the Senator’s talking points, but now they turned the volume up.

The CNN anchor thanked the Senator and then segued. Our next guest is an advocate for protecting the existing Don’t Ask Don’t Tell policy and is also against the repeal. She is the president of Mothers for Our Troops, a nonprofit organization whose mission is to serve care packages to deployed troops in Afghanistan and Iraq. Mariam L. Josey, we are happy to have you as a guest today. What is your position on Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, and why do you feel the repeal is a bad idea?

Mariam, a middle-aged white woman with a midwestern accent, smiled as she spoke. "Well, Katie, I come from a family steeped in the long line of military tradition. My great-grandfather served and so did my mother, who was a front-line nurse in World War II. The military is in my bloodline. I now have three sons who proudly serve; two are in the Army and one is in the Marines. My boys keep me well informed about what they are experiencing and I feel it is only right to use my platform to ensure their voices also get heard during this time. 

The very nature of war makes building camaraderie with your battle buddy critical for survival — that trust has to be unbreakable. The lifting of this policy is dangerous to that trust. Studies have found that less than one percent of the force identifies as gay. You mean to tell me we are going to overthrow trust, good order, and tradition for a minuscule fraction of our military because of a chosen lifestyle? People should not feel compelled to accept being uncomfortable, especially if it goes against their faith.

I agree with you, Shy couldn’t help but murmur. "People shouldn’t be forced to feel uncomfortable."

Mariam continued. "My boys and the troops they serve alongside are angry and feel this repeal will violate their human rights. I mean, who wants to worry while taking a shower if someone is looking at them with lewd intentions? I don’t want my boys put in that position. It isn’t fair. Serving our country is not a right, it’s a choice. So those who serve should get a choice in who they serve with. This is just bad, all the way around, and it will lead to many outstanding soldiers, like my boys, leaving the force in droves."

Shy stared at the TV, their posture rigid. Another loud voice to spread misinformation and fear while underrepresented voices like Shy’s remained buried in the dark caverns of truth and half-truth. Shy had grown almost calloused enough to ignore the heightening banter against gay people that pervaded the military, the jeers and jokes, the Jodie calls, and the hazing. Shy kept their head down at work. They didn’t ask, and they certainly didn’t tell. They carried an expressionless face and easy temperament most days despite slowly simmering inside. Shy’s tight grip on their feelings and thoughts did not allow that simmer to rise or to ignite into outright defensiveness or support for those few fellow soldiers who had been exposed.

Shy turned the TV volume down and resettled into their book.

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THE GAGGLE OF women stared at the TV as the breaking news segment came to a close, so silent for a moment that it almost seemed awkward. Lord, the last days are upon us now, Mrs. Hall, a confidently outspoken and opinionated woman with the air of an old Baptist Reverend, quipped as she adjusted her glasses. What is this world coming to? she begged in her slight Southern drawl.

Miss Ethel settled her bulky frame more firmly in her chair. Well, our time wasn’t all peaches and roses, either. I had an uncle who was gay.

But did he serve in the Army? Susan Brown asked.

No, Miss Ethel sighed, I don’t recall he ever did. But my point still stands, gay folks have always been around, we just talk about it more now. So where’s the ‘Breaking News’, hmm? As for the military, don’t you think gays have been serving our country throughout history? I don’t see the big deal.

How would anyone even know if someone was gay? You can’t always tell, Susan said, smoothing her floral skirt.

Mrs. Hall gave them a cutting look. Well, they call it ‘Don’t Ask Don’t Tell’ for a reason, Susan. Ain’t nobody wanna hear that mess. Lord knows I don’t. I rebuke that evil in the name of Jesus. She fanned her hand upward into the air and shook her head.

Evelyn collected the empty plates and silverware. The topic at hand tickled Evelyn’s curiosity. She couldn’t help but think about her ex-husband who also served in the Army, but she didn’t recall any conversation about gay people serving in his unit. Though, if she were wholly honest, he never spoke much of anything to do with his service to her, ever. 

She was 26 the first time she met her husband. She remembered how exciting she thought it was that he traveled all over the world. And the uniforms – like many women, Evelyn could not help but love a sharp-dressed man in uniform. That was partly what drew her to the young buck sergeant in the first place. 

Of course, he didn’t serve long in the Army. He got discharged after 24 months at Camp Casey, seated a mere heartbeat away from the Demilitarized Military Zone in South Korea. Disgruntled and ready for change, he’d come back to the States, took up a new life as a city bus driver, and caught the eye of the young, charming Evelyn Cole. 

They fell in love.

The couple settled in southern California, chasing after the enormous boom of jobs that sprouted like wild dandelions. A home, cars, fashionable clothes, and a good, stable life followed. It was predictable, and Evelyn thrived. Indeed, she found a small safe place to nestle, a place away from the noise of a world that was too fast, too jarring, too mean. 

But it didn’t last; perfect worlds never do. And the end, when it came, was an amicable parting. She had gone from ‘daughter’ to ‘wife’, without ever just being ‘woman’, and eventually that lack of self-actualization showed. Over 20 years of living in a codependent marriage with a traditional Southern Baptist man was finally enough for Evelyn. She left in order to regain her happiness and sense of self again. But as with most things in life, what we want is not always that easy to obtain; though Evelyn had begun to find happiness again, the desire for more still fluttered in her heart.

What do you think, Evelyn? Mrs. Hall interrupted Evelyn’s private thoughts. Your daughter’s in the Army, right?

Evelyn realized four sets of eyes were staring right at her. 

Yes, she is, Evelyn responded slowly, her thoughts still lingered the past, before continuing. I don’t really have any thoughts about lesb— gay people in the military. I just pray for Keisha’s protection, that’s all. She turned towards the kitchen as the women’s voices flowed and ebbed. 

Evelyn busied herself rinsing plates, not thinking about the news or the debate taking place in her safe, quiet living room. She wouldn’t create unnecessary conflict in any household, especially her own. She’d learned that lesson young. As one of the few Blacks in her neighborhood, she had learned to be amicable and grew into a polished gem of a woman. Her compliant behavior became more pronounced as a junior secretary in a highly established Brooklyn firm and solidified with her marriage to a conservative man of principle. Being polite was important, and that meant hushing up. Society and powerful men rewarded beautiful women like Evelyn, but only if they kept their mouths shut and let their beauty radiate around the room. I love your smile, Evelyn. You’re a pretty young gal, aren’t you? And as long as she simply smiled at these compliments, her career grew and her pay increased.

So really, was it worth it to cultivate an inquiring mind and a penchant for political or religious discourse? It was much safer, much easier to hold oneself back and just mute those contrarian thoughts. Besides, what good did it do to express strong or opposing views about such an explosive topic like this DADT repeal? And she didn’t have any views on this subject, none at all. Evelyn struggled to develop and embrace her own independent thoughts. After years of pretending she had none, was it any wonder when pretense became reality? And she was ok with that, with being quiet, polite, refined Evelyn Cole, who organized her life for her own comfort. 

Susan came into the kitchen, her bold navy pumps clacking across the tile, her hands stacked with dishes. In her late 30s, she had a confidence Evelyn had never known, especially at that young age. Though a new member of the church, she’d taken to the community and camaraderie with zeal, and had shown herself tonight to be thoughtful and kind. 

Do you need any help with cleaning up? I can stay if you want.

Evelyn liked Susan. She often made a point to check on Susan and be as supportive as she could. I appreciate it, but I have it. The ladies are going to take off soon, Evelyn smiled.

As if on cue, Mrs. Robinson’s voice rang out, Ladies, ladies, let us gather to close. The matriarchs quickly came together and joined hands for a closing prayer before each one gradually made their way to the foyer. Evelyn oversaw the women grabbing their coats and the mad whirlwind as they all scurried out the door. 

Thanks for coming, everyone. 

Yes, same time next week. 

Love you, too! Evelyn chimed back at the well-wishes and goodbyes as she closed and locked the door.

Evelyn sighed in contentment. It was a wonderful evening, despite the unpleasantness with the news. As she collected the last of the dishes and placed them in the dishwasher, Evelyn reached for the phone. Time to end the day in her favorite way.

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SHY'S PHONE RANG, breaking them out of their head. Mom flashed across the phone screen. Shy felt their shoulders tense as they tapped the answer button. Hey, Ma. 

"Hi, baby girl! I just wrapped up our Bible study group. Such a good lesson tonight. Mrs. Robinson knows just what the Lord wants us to hear and always feeds our spiritual needs. Oh Keisha, you have to meet her next time you come back home."

The tiny hairs on the back of Shy’s neck flared up. I wish she would stop calling me that. If it’ll make you happy, sure. Glad to hear things went well tonight. I know you always enjoy getting together with your Bible group.

Yes, we had a good time, but then again, we always do. Mom hesitated a moment. I saw the news about those changes in the military. Are you okay with everything going on? The woman I saw made some good points, talking about the loss of trust and burden this’ll place on soldiers like you.

Yeah, I was watching CNN and heard some of the anti-repeal rhetoric earlier… I’m not too bothered by it. Shy leaned back in their chair, fingers drumming on the armrest, tap-tap-tap.

But if they repeal this policy, is it going to affect you? I mean, you don’t serve with any of those homosexuals, right? Mom asked.

Gay people are already serving in the Army, Ma. It wouldn’t surprise me that there are a few in my unit. Shy said with a sigh, attempting to redirect their building impatience. Tap-tap-taptaptap.

Shy could hear their mother’s soft intake of breath on the other end of the line. You have gay people in your unit?

Probably, Ma.

"You know that they’re gay?"

I can’t ask them directly… but yeah, I’m pretty sure I know a few who are. Taptaptaptap. Taptaptaptap.

Well, I think it’s best if they keep their lifestyle discreet and out of the public’s eye. This is just so messy. Now, good people like yourself have to deal with this drama on top of everything else.

Shy sighed, but the phone buzzed, cutting off their reply. A quick glance proved it was a message from Rihannon: Re: DADT, Report to Commander, tomorrow 0700, BN HQ. 

Icy fingernails scrapped down Shy’s back, sweat beaded on their forehead.