***

“Remember your promise to me, Gavin. A good man keeps his word. It’s not good for him when he gets agitated. It takes days to recover sometimes, and—”

“Do you really think I would purposely hurt my own father?” Is that the way she saw him?

“That’s not what I’m saying, but the truth is, you’ve hurt him before. You’ve hurt both of us. You’ve hurt yourself.”

It always came back to that. And how in the hell did his sexuality affect them? It was his life, and it made the distance between them grow even more that his mom would rather he live a lie his whole life than “hurt” them by being true to himself.

“Maybe you don’t see it like that. You may think you’re a homosexual, but that’s the devil’s—”

“That’s enough!” Gavin paced away from her before he said something he couldn’t take back. “I know you don’t understand, and I know you were raised to believe certain things, but don’t tell me I don’t know who I am. Don’t tell me that I’ve hurt you both by being me.”

His mom shook her head. “Gavin…I…we just worry about you so much.”

He sighed, walked over and kissed her cheek. “I know, Mom. I’m going to get in there. You go get your hair done and then come back. We’ll be here, and Dad will be okay. I promise.”

He left his mom to go on her way. Gavin made his way to the locked ward where they kept dementia patients. He checked in at the font desk, trying to hold back that anger surging through him. “How’s he doing today?” Gavin asked, probably stalling.

“It’s been a pretty good day. Nothing out of the ordinary as far as confusion or outbursts. I’m sure he’ll be so happy to see you.”

Would he? If he was in his right mind and remembered who Gavin was, would he be happy? The knots in his gut tightened. It was a unique feeling, going to see his father in a nursing home, and not one he enjoyed. Ridiculous as it was, he always saw his dad as this invincible being. His parents were old-fashioned. His dad was always the one to take care of the family.

They stuck to their gender roles. If there was a problem, it was up to his dad to fix it, and now here he was, wasting away in a nursing home, and he couldn’t fix it. None of them could.

“You’re welcome to go in, Mr. Davis.”

“Thank you,” Gavin replied to the woman behind the desk. When he got to his father’s room, the door was closed. He knocked softly on it before slipping it partway open. “Dad? It’s Gavin.”

“Who?”

Gavin’s heart dropped. “Gavin.” He stepped inside. “Do you remember who I am?”

An unfamiliar anger flashed in his dad’s eyes. “Of course I know who you are. I’m not an idiot.” He shook his head. “I apologize. I’m going crazy being locked in this room.”

Gavin’s eyes scanned the small, sterile-looking room. Yeah, he could get that. “Do you want to go for a walk?” His mom told him they had a garden out back where he could take his dad out to walk if he wanted.

“Could we do that?” Finally there was a familiar light in his father’s eyes. They’d been so close when Gavin was young. Then, after they discovered he was gay, the pain in his dad’s eyes always kept Gavin at bay. When he decided to pretend he wasn’t who he really was, things were better again. That’s the man who looked at him now. The one who was proud of him, and damned if Gavin didn’t like that look. He wanted his parents proud of who he was regardless of who he felt attracted to.

“Absolutely. Come on.” Gavin helped his dad out of the chair. He linked his right arm through his father’s left one and slowly led him toward the door. After checking him out, he went for the gardens were they could walk.

“The air feels good, doesn’t it?” The sun burned bright, but they were lucky to have a slight wind. Summer had always been his favorite time of year.

“It does. Reminds me of fishing with you.”

Gavin’s head whipped his dad’s way at that. He would never get used to this—lucid moments followed by confusion. It was this constant fear every time he saw his father, not knowing what to expect. But this…the memories were something he hadn’t brought up before.

“We used to have a lot of fun, didn’t we?” Gavin asked.

“We did.” His father squeezed his arm. “Our boy. Your mother and I always wanted you so much. We were so proud of you—being in the church band, college, your job. I…” he shook his head. “We had our hard times when we worried about you so much. It about broke your mom…those things…those thoughts you used to have.” Gavin’s eyes fell closed and he let out a deep breath. Don’t do this, Dad. Don’t go there.