Page 51 of Upstate

While he’s talking, I wrap pipe threads with plumber’s tape and twist on the supply lines. “A marriage is about more than doing things around the house, though, isn’t it?”

“True enough.” Eric pauses. “You must miss your husband terribly.”

The fact that I’m installing a water heater in the basement of a house David will never even know I live in shoots me with a sharp-tipped arrow of grief. Deflecting, I say, “To be honest, doing a project like this makes me miss my dad.”

“He’s gone, too?”

I nod. “And my mom, when I was a kid. Maybe I’m cursed or something.”

Eric winces at my attempted joke. “Don’t say that, Audrey. Don’t even think it. Things happen in life, that’s all. Like the Buddhists teach, suffering is inevitable. Everything that is born will die. It’s how you appreciate the moments in between that matters.”

“I didn’t know you were a Buddhist.” I’m stripping back Romex to expose a fresh half inch of copper on the hot, neutral, and ground wires.

“I’ve done some reading about different religions. Buddhism’s the one that makes the most sense to me. Before Covid, I went to church every Sunday, but that’s always been more for the community than the cross.”

“It’s good that you’re not lonely.”

“Oh, I’ve been lonely all my life.”

Remembering what Rhonda said about his marriage ending, I ask, “How long have you been divorced?”

“Over ten years now. My wife, Sheila, she waited for our daughter to start college before she left me.” An adoring smile spreads across Eric’s face. “Brianna’s a brilliant girl. She was always interested in politics. Got herself into Georgetown with a good enough scholarship that we could afford for her to attend. My son, Bryson, joined the military after 9/11, so he moves around a lot. Once Brianna settled down with a government job, Sheila moved to Virginia to be close to her. That’s where she met her second husband. Tom’s a good guy, I guess, does some kind of analysis for the Census Bureau. Brianna’s married now, too. They bought houses in the same neighborhood so Sheila can help out whenever grandchildren come along.”

“That sounds really nice for them.”

“It is. I miss it, though, that family life. I know what people like Rhonda say about me missing out on college because we got pregnant so young, but the truth is I loved being a father.” He looks at me with misty eyes. “What was your dad’s name?”

“Larry.” Saying it clogs my throat with a sob.

Despondently keeping his distance, Eric murmurs, “It’s okay, honey. You go ahead and let it out.”

I surprise myself by crying with the abandon of a little kid who’s skinned a knee on the sidewalk. Eric sanitizes his hands and offers me a tissue. I step back and blow my nose. “Thanks.”

“I really wanted to hug you, just so you know.” Eric wipes his own damp eyes with the back of his big hand. “You got me thinking about how I haven’t hugged Brianna since I visited last Christmas.”

“She’s lucky to have you for a dad.” I give him a watery smile. “I’m lucky, too, you were here today.”

“About that.” Eric clears his throat. “I’ve been looking for an opportunity to talk to you about something.”

I tense, anticipating a problem with my homeowner’s insurance or an issue regarding the property. “What is it, Eric?”

“Well, it turns out Wren and I have more in common than we realized. I’m, uh—” He grabs hold of the word like he’s trying to get it across a goal line. “I’m gay, too.”

“Oh, okay,” I say, relieved.

Eric blows out a deep breath. “Wow, that was intense.”

“What was?”

“Coming out to you. I haven’t said that to hardly anyone before. Thanks for being so cool about it.”

“Of course.” His relief reminds me that, unlike Wren, Eric never escaped the conservative village where they both grew up. “Is that something you figured out after your divorce?”

“At some level I always knew, I guess, I just didn’t want it to be true.”

“Did your wife give you a hard time about it?”

“She doesn’t know.” He frowns. “Well, maybe she does, but I never told her, or my kids, either. All through the eighties, I was too terrified of AIDS to do anything about it, so there wasn’t anything to confess. Since then—I won’t get into it, don’t worry, I only mean to say I’ve had enough experience to be sure. I stayed in the closet because I was scared of losing my family, my community, my business. I ended up losing my family anyway. As for the rest of it, well, Wren’s helping me see I can’t waste my life being afraid. I’m fifty-five years old, Audrey. Look at the world we’re in. Thousands of people are dying every single day. If there’s the slightest chance I could be happy, I have to take it, you know what I mean?”