He remained confused five minutes later when walking along the road. Why had the first question out of Candice’s mouth been to ask how he’d felt coming out to his father? What had she expected him to say? Awkward, nervous, the usual emotions. Not once had he entertained his parents rejecting him. He didn’t need Candice or anyone to tell him what a smooth ride he had in that respect. His father would forgive him anything.
“Anything?” Candice had asked. “Murder?”
“Well, that would depend. Could be self-defence. That’s not a fair comparison.”
“Trust me. I’ve treated a few whose relatives preferred they were killers to homosexual.”
“That’s twisted.”
“Yes. Yes, it is.”
He’d had it easy despite others doubting him. Despite the occasional remark, speculation and open perplexity of the men w
