Love's Hope (Love Grows in Honest Places Book 2), page 1
LOVE’S HOPE
Love Grows in Honest Places
— Book 2 —
Damien Benoit-Ledoux
www.damienledoux.com
Purple Spekter™ Press
Copyright © 2019 Damien Benoit-Ledoux
Purple Spekter LLP Press
All rights reserved. No part of this may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior consent of the Author, except for brief quotes used in reviews.
KDP Paperback ISBN-13: 9781080198054
Kindle ASIN: B07TJBC34Y
WORK OF FICTION
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
EDITIONS
Paperback
• 1.0 | September 3, 2019
Kindle
• 1.0 | September 3, 2019
Dedication
This book is dedicated to all LGBTQ youth and young adults everywhere who have struggled to love themselves, or struggle to love themselves today.
Table of Contents
LOVE’S HOPE
Dedication
Table of Contents
Acknowledgements
Author’s Notes
1 | Another Day at Benedictine High
2 | Dodgeball Fracas
3 | Anathema
4 | Annoyingly Single
5 | The Java Grind
6 | Twitterpated
7 | It's Impossible
8 | Taking the Leap
9 | His First Gay Days
10 | The Slowness of Time
11 | Truth Among Friends
12 | The First Date
13 | Distracted
14 | Hanky-Panky
15 | The Second Date
16 | Touch Choices
17 | Man-date
18 | The Wrath of God
19 | Worth the Risk
20 | The Day After
21 | Don't Let the Haters Win
22 | Homecoming
23 | Heaven's Fury Descendeth
24 | Apocalypse
25 | Back to Square One
26 | End Game
27 | Second Chances
28 | The Start of Something New
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Acknowledgements
My husband and handsome hero Tim, for his constant encouragement and willingness to share in this part of my life. I truly appreciate your support as I jockey between our lives, work, and several novels. I love you, through all of time and space…
Editor/Proofreader
Angela Walker
Beta Readers
My team of beta readers who pre-read the novel and provided feedback and suggestions to strengthen the story. Thank you.
• Jim Adcock
• Victor Freeman
• Kaitlyn Luft
• David Pruette
• Bob Silverstein
• Jay Wong
• Anonymousw
Special Thanks
To fellow author April Wilson, who helped me understand the romance genre and set me on the right path to write the story on my heart.
Author’s Notes
Online Bonus Content
Explore the amazing world of the Love Grows in Honest Places series and discover the people, places, and elements that went into the creation of the novel series. Visit the Love Grows in Honest Places Wiki at World Anvil today! (Hint: This website views best on an iPad or similar tablet, a laptop browser, or a desktop browser.)
worldanvil.com/w/love-grows-in-honest-places-damientronus
On Findeing Typohs?
If you found a typo, please let me know. Despite the many editing passes and multiple sets of eyes, typos, like nasty gremlins, creep into the text. It’s extremely frustrating but with your help, we can eliminate all typos, everywhere—or at least in my novels. Use the contact form at the link below to submit a typo or other textual error. Thank you so much for helping me improve my stories!
damienledoux.com/typohunters/
1 | Another Day at
Benedictine High
Brett Kinkade
Sister Scholastica’s obnoxious habit of pontificating about the importance of proper grammar in today’s world found its way into the morning’s writing lesson. Today’s lecture-turned-tongue-lashing was about the Oxford comma and its significance in the written word.
Brett Kinkade sighed and stared at the withered face of the strict nun who ruled Benedictine Catholic High School’s English and Literature Department with an iron crucifix. She was old.
No, she was ancient.
His gaze shifted to the left and caught the eyes of Priya Ramesh, one of his two best friends. The desks were arranged in a circle, so Brett and Priya usually sat across from each other to make class more enjoyable. She winked at him and mouthed something.
Dammit, you know I can't read lips, he thought. He discreetly shrugged and she rolled her eyes at him.
“Something amusing, Mister Kinkade?” Skully asked, her eyes boring through his soul. Skully was the inappropriate nickname for Sr. Scholastica. She didn’t miss a trick in her classroom, and she expected her students to focus and be attentive.
“No, Sister. Sorry.”
The bell rang, startling him. Nobody moved since they knew better, especially in Skully’s class. “Let's try to do better, people. Your next assignments are due one week from today,” she announced in her usual drawl. “Class dismissed.”
Brett groaned with his peers and shoved his English textbook and notebook into his backpack. He stood, moved with the herd through the open door, and waited in the hall for Priya. The brightly lit hallway with nearly century-old, dark-stained wainscoting came alive with students changing classes, laughing and joking with one another, or complaining about what recently happened. Several student couples held hands as they walked down the hallway, and Brett felt envious watching the guys as they doted over their coquettish girls. I want someone special like they have…but none of the girls here excite me in that way. I wish I knew why.
Priya sidled up to him. “We seriously need to enroll you in a lipreading class.”
Leaving his thoughts, he ran a hand through his brown, spiky hair and smiled. “No kidding, I feel like I'm the only one who can't read lips. What did you ask me?”
“I asked if you were going to Samantha’s party tonight.”
“Oh, that. I dunno.” I’ve narrowly escaped her sexual advances in the past, so do I really want to be in her crosshairs again? The kind of connection I want isn’t with Samantha Briggs…
“Come on, you have to,” Priya pleaded.
“Do I?” he sarcastically asked.
She tilted her head and frowned at him. “Would I steer you wrong after all these years? Besides, Jameson will be there.”
Well, that changes things. Samantha likes Jameson way more than me. Brett smiled. “Of course not. I'll be there.”
Brett met the brown-eyed Priya at class orientation before freshman year and they became fast friends. She was funny, feisty, and outspoken. Though raised Catholic, her family often celebrated some of the traditional Indian holidays, such as Diwali. As such, she often challenged the patriarchal theology of the conservative Catholic faculty at their high school. Brett loved watching the Benedictine nuns, monks, priests, and lay faculty become flustered at her refusal to accept Catholic Church doctrine, being as it was expected of Benedictine High students.
“Great. Maybe Diego can pick us up and we can ride together,” Priya said, smiling. Her long brown hair was braided in a pony tail and hung over her left shoulder.
“That would be awesome,” Brett said, nodding.
“Come on, I'll walk you to your locker. You've got theology with Bennyboy next, right?”
“Yup.”
Bennyboy was the unofficial nickname for Father Benedict, the theology and ethics teacher at their private, Catholic high school in Loudonville, New York.
“Better tuck in your shirttails, or you’ll get reprimanded.”
He reached around with his right hand and felt the bare skin of his lower back, confirming his uniform polo shirt had become untucked. He pulled it down. “Thanks, the last thing I need is another damn demerit.” The long-standing merit system at Benedictine Catholic High School was designed to reward and promote exemplary work and good behavior. Students who maintained or earned merit points would be officially recognized at the end of the school year. At the same time, demerits, or the subtraction of merit points, could limit a student’s freedoms or permissions during the school day. They could also lead to community service or detention.
“I need to go to the bathroom before my next class. I’ll see you at lunch, okay?”
Priya winked at him. “See ya, Brett.” She turned and pushed her way through the busy hallway.
At his locker, Brett replaced the social studies and English texts he pulled from his backpack with his theology and science books. Minutes later, when he finished using the urinal, he set his ba ckpack on the floor and re-tucked his uniform polo shirt. Then he washed his hands and fixed his hair in the mirror, smiling at his handsome face.
“Lookin’ good, Kinkade,” Jameson Argyle said, entering the restroom. The hinges squeaked and the hydraulic door closer hissed.
“Thanks, Jameson,” Brett replied with a smile. Jameson was the favored, dreamy, star football player everyone wanted to be. He was smart, handsome, muscular, and popular with the cheerleaders and the subject of salacious school gossip regarding his healthy sex life with the ladies. Though Jameson never bragged about his sexual conquests, his teammates overzealously bolstered his reputation as a ladies’ man. Brett always held an unusual fascination with Jameson, but he didn’t understand why.
Jameson pointed at Brett’s reflection in the mirror. “I wish I had your spiky hair, but God cursed me with this curly mop.”
Brett grinned. “You know the ladies love it,” he said, winking at Jameson’s reflection.
Jameson waved his hand dismissively and walked to an empty urinal. “That’s what they tell me.”
“So, you’re going tonight?” Brett asked softly.
Jameson nodded and unzipped his trousers. “Yeah, no game tomorrow. I’m looking forward to relaxing and having a good time. What about you?”
Brett nodded. ”I’m in.”
“Then it’ll be a great time. See you later.” The football star lowered his head and focused on his business at the urinal.
Brett glanced at himself one more time, then exited the restroom and went to theology class.
❖
“You must remember, class, that the Church’s teachings are based in Sacred Scripture and its living Traditions. Scripture presents homosexual acts as acts of grave depravity and Tradition has always declared that homosexual acts are intrinsically disordered because they are contrary to the natural law.”
“Why?” Annabelle St. Hilare shot back, refusing to back down from her position against the Church’s teachings on homosexuality.
Brett observed the heated exchange with amusement, as did most of his peers. But for him, it seemed more important—even strangely personal—than her other objections to the Church’s teachings.
Fr. Benedict didn’t flinch. “The homosexual act is closed to the gift of life. Remember what we learned at the beginning of the semester, Annabelle. What are the two primary reasons for the sexual act?”
“Procreation and the unity of the marred couple,” Annabelle replied, intoning her answer like a drone.
“That’s correct.”
“The straight married couple,” Annabelle shot back.
“That’s also correct.”
“But that doesn’t make sense.”
“Why not?”
“We have gay marriage in this country. Other countries have it, too. Hello, why can’t the ancient Church see that it’s a good thing?”
Unfazed by her flippant attitude, Fr. Benedict answered her. “The Church teaches homosexuals must be accepted with respect, compassion, and sensitivity.”
“But we can’t accept who they love or how they love?”
“Correct.”
Samantha spoke up. “Father Benedict, could you define an intrinsically disordered act?”
“Certainly, but we’ve covered this before. An intrinsically disordered act is that which is always wrong to choose.”
Elijah Glickstein shifted in his seat and raised his hand. “Wait, so you’re telling me that my gay cousin is always choosing wrong?”
“I can’t speak for his actions.”
“But isn’t that what it means? That when my cousin gets married next month, he’s ultimately choosing sin in the Church’s eyes?”
“That’s correct, Elijah. Same-sex marriage is a civil and legal matter. It is not recognized or sanctified by the Church.”
“So, what you’re sayin’ is, he’s going to hell.”
“I didn’t say that,” Fr. Benedict calmly replied.
“But you did. If he gets married and has sex with his husband, he’s committing an intrinsically disordered act that is always wrong to choose.”
“It’s a mortal sin, Elijah, and in the Church’s eyes, if he doesn’t seek out reconciliation, he could go to hell. I cannot speak to the ultimate judgement of God, but that is what the Church teaches.”
“But they’re good guys!” Elijah protested, his face full of sadness.
“I’m sure they are, Elijah. That doesn’t make them exempt from sin.”
“Catholics have way too many archaic rules,” Elijah replied, shaking his head.
Fr. Benedict smirked. “Do you eat pork?”
“Um, no.”
“Shellfish?”
“Of course not.”
“Why?”
“Duh, because I’m Jewish.”
“So, you have archaic rules, too.”
Elijah stared at Fr. Benedict and blinked, then sank in his seat. “Yeah, but at least my synagogue doesn’t preach against gay people.”
Brett smirked at Bennyboy’s candid response, but immediately frowned when he realized he wasn’t supporting Elijah, who would be at the party tonight. Annabelle sat forward, and Brett saw the fire in her eyes. This ought to be good.
“How do you know there aren’t any gay students at this school?”
”I don’t know that. Are any of you gay?”
Everyone’s heads anxiously looked around the room, but no one responded or raised their hand.
“That’s a cheap shot, Father Benedict,” Annabelle snapped. “Do you really think a gay or lesbian student would speak up now that you’ve just called them intrinsically disordered and hell bound?”
“No, and I didn’t say those things. The homosexual act is intrinsically disordered. There’s a difference.”
“Not to the person who you’re telling is screwed up,” Brett interjected. “So, what if we had a gay kid in school? Would you tell him or her they’re intrinsically disordered?”
Brett shrank down in his seat. Why did I just do that?
Still unflustered, Fr. Benedict responded. “No, of course not. He or she would be treated with the same fairness and standards his or her heterosexual classmates would receive. He or she would also be expected to conform to the moral code of conduct set forth in the Student Handbook.”
“Meaning?” Annabelle pressed.
“Meaning, that single, unmarried students of this high school are expected to remain chaste and sexually pure until marriage. That is the teaching of the Church.”
“Please,” Annabelle retorted, waving a dismissive hand.
“You disagree? What are the two primary reasons for the sexual act?”
“Procreation and the unity of the marred couple,” Annabelle replied.
“Correct. And there are no exceptions.”
Elijah scoffed. “The Church needs to wake up, Father Benedict. You can’t seriously think kids aren’t having sex at school.”
He chuckled again. “I hope they’re not having sex at school, but I’m sure some of your peers are engaging in promiscuity, which is the sin of sexual activity outside the confines of marriage. I wasn’t born yesterday.”
Annabelle sat forward and said, “But you’re teaching us irrelevant teachings that don’t make sense today. Besides, if we’re all made in God’s image, that means God has to have a little gay and lesbian in him or her.”
Fr. Benedict’s head tilted to the side and his face finally betrayed his frustration.
Brett smirked. Bingo. She got to him.
Whenever Annabelle referred to God as a woman, it sent the monks and nuns into a tizzy. The bell rang and saved them from Fr. Benedict’s wrath. He simply smiled curtly and said, “We’ll start with the next chapter tomorrow. Thank you for this engaging conversation. We can pick it back up if we need to. Class dismissed.”
Brett and his peers packed their theology texts into their backpacks and made their way out. He found himself walking next to Annabelle on the way to the cafeteria. “Nice going with Bennyboy,” he said.
