Work Text:
SUBJECT: God, gays, and the Texas Rangers
Dear Captain Nash,
I know this email is kind of out of the blue, but I didn’t know who else to reach out to. I’m not even sure how to start this email. One time Buck and I signed up for this pen pal program, but the kid in Maine I was writing with gave up after two rounds of letters. It was during my ancient Egypt phase and I think I scared him off with my questions about mummies. Buck told me I was too cool for him anyway.
Believe it or not I’m not writing to tell you about mummies or my failed pen pal from four years ago. I actually was hoping to ask you a couple of questions about God? (Or maybe G-d? I had a teacher in third grade who always wrote it like that. I never knew why. I don’t think it’s a catholic thing so I’m going to stick with God.)
Nearly everyone here talks about God. Or religion at least. I never noticed it in LA. People were religious, but no one ever told me they were going to pray for me. I think they mean it as a compliment, but it sort of makes my skin itch when they say it. Especially when they’re the same people who say weird things about – well – about all of you.
Not by name! Nobody in El Paso is openly talking badly about the 118 (my dad excluded, grandma certainly talks about him when she thinks I can’t hear.), but they do say things that hit sort of close to home. That’s why I’m emailing in the first place. At church this morning the priest said something really weird.
He was talking about sins and he went on a long rant about gay people. It’s not anything I haven’t heard before, I’m a teenager who plays video games with other teens. Homophobia isn’t a new concept. I know what he was saying is wrong, I’m not emailing to ask if God hates gays. I know he doesn’t even if El Paso hasn’t gotten the memo yet.
It’s just when it happened today all I could picture was Dad. A few weeks ago, one of the little old ladies at church mentioned that my grandparents have sat in the same pew since before my Dad and Tías were born. At first it really annoyed me, knowing that I was sitting in the same spot he would have sat in. It’s like his presence was all over the pew. Today, though, all I could think about was what it must have felt like. My dad at fourteen sitting in church listening to some man in a robe tell him that gays were going to burn in hell.
Did he look over at my grandparents expecting them to protest, and instead just see the indifference on their face? Did he feel the bile rise in his throat the same way I did? I know he wouldn’t say anything. He never does when he’s hurting, but I know it would hurt him. It hurt me too, but I know it’s not the same.
I think he’s gay. I think I’ve thought that for a long time. Kids at school used to think I had two dads. Which I guess in a way I kind of do, but not in the way they thought. I see the way Dad looks at Buck. It’s a way he never looked at a woman, not even my mom (or the weird freaky doppelganger mom.) For a guy who is so closed off sometimes it’s amazing how open that look he has is.
I’m still so mad at him, at all of the selfish decisions he made that wrecked the good thing we had going – but then I see his baby photo on the mantle or I hear a priest tell me he’s going to burn in hell and it all goes away. I don’t know how to merge those two Dads in my head. The one who hurt me and the one who wears his own hurt so plainly on his face. How can they be the same, but also miles apart?
I asked Abuelo about what the priest said today, and you know what he said? He just laughed and said, “I only go to church so god answers my prayers during baseball season.” He wakes me up at ass o’clock in the morning and makes me sit through that bullshit just so the Texas Rangers can have a good season?
Anyway that was a lot of build up for these questions I mentioned, but I don’t think they would have made sense without all the preamble. I’ve got three big ones, but I’m also welcome to any insight on the things I’ve mentioned in the beginning part of this email.
Why do you go to church?
How do you trust that God forgives you?
Do you think Dad knows he’s not going to hell?
I’d love some answers when you get the chance, but I know you’re busy saving the greater metropolitan area. Give Buck and Dad my love, but also please don’t tell them I sent you this email. Maybe just give them an extra dinner roll or put extra whipped cream on Buck’s dessert.
Yours in Catholicism I guess,
Christopher
SUBJECT: RE: God, Gays and the Texas Rangers
Hi Christopher,
I never had a pen pal growing up, but I always wanted one. I liked the idea of someone getting to know me on completely my own terms. They wouldn’t judge what I looked like or how I spoke, just my words on paper. Obviously you’re not a stranger, but I’m still glad you reached out to me.
I think I’m going to start with your questions and then I’ll tell you some of my larger thoughts at the end if that’s alright with you. I must say, while I consider myself to be a religious person, I’m no theologian. So if your questions get any harder I might have to start studying.
I go to church for a lot of reasons. Some of it is out of habit. When I go into a church it feels a bit like a homecoming. Not in the same way it feels going home to Athena or to the firehouse, but there’s still a sense of familiarity. Whether I'm in LA or Minnesota churches all have things in common. The confessional, the candles, the stained glass windows (I’m a sucker for the stained glass).
More than that it’s about being closer to God, (not writing God is something some Jewish people do by the way, though I must repeat I am not a theologian so I don’t know much on the subject.) There are two places I can get close to God: churches and burning buildings. Given my track record, I’m sure you can imagine which I prefer.
I don’t go there to be lectured, and I sure as hell don’t go to support the Rangers. (By the way, the next time you’re home, you and I are going to watch a Twins game on TV. The whole of the 118 has a lot of reservations about you being in Texas, but I think I’m most perturbed by you being taken care of by Rangers fans.)
I’m not entirely sure if I fully trust that God forgives me. I’ve done a lot of things that I won’t ever fully forgive myself for. There’s a part of me that will always and forever feel guilty for the things I’ve done. Who's to say that God doesn’t forgive me either?
Athena forgives me though, and so does Buck and the rest of the 118. So maybe that’s enough. How different is God from my family? I love them both, and they both love me. Faith and family are closely intertwined for me.
So to answer: I don’t know. I’ll never fully know, but that’s the point of faith and hope. I hope God forgives me, and I hope I keep waking up most days feeling like I forgive myself.
Forgiveness isn’t easy. Trust me, when I say that I know. I know your father hurt you deeply. I know you’re living with that hurt every single day, but can I tell you a secret? He’s hurting worse. You’re his heart Christopher, and I don’t know how much you know about biology, but the human heart doesn’t work super well when it’s 800 miles away.
I’m not telling you to forgive him, even though I think God does. No one is asking you to be God, but I am asking you to trust the part of you that cares about your father.
I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said about the two versions of your father. I know it’s not the same but I feel that about myself. I don’t always understand how the man I look at in the mirror is both the one who killed one family and brought together another one. Sometimes Buck looks at me and calls me Pops and I can’t picture what he sees in me. Sometimes I’m still the guy who is high out of his mind and spiraling out of control even though I’m sober. Sometimes I’m not Captain Robert Nash, I'm just a drug addict in an empty apartment.
There’s a million versions of your dad in the same way there’s a million versions of you and me. I know it’s hard to combine them, but the Eddie Diaz who messed up doesn’t exist without the Eddie Diaz in that photo on the mantle. In some ways your dad is still the kid in the pews listening to someone use God’s name to preach hate. He’s made up of those moments and a million others — good and bad.
Your last question has stumped me if I’m being honest. I know he doesn’t think that Hen, Karen and Buck are going to hell. Your Dad would go to the ends of the earth for the people he loves. He’d fight God himself if it meant the people he loved were taken care of. What he thinks of himself is another matter entirely.
I don’t think it’s my place to comment on your dad’s sexuality, but I do think you’re right in saying that he and Buck have a connection that’s different from anybody else. If your dad’s guilt is the thing keeping him from acting on that then I truly hope he overcomes it. Your dad deserves good things. I think we can both agree on that.
I know you don’t have to hear it from me, but I hope you know that that priest is completely and totally full of it. He’s a disgrace to the name of Jesus, and frankly I’m not entirely impressed with your grandparents attending a church like that.
I made your Dad’s favorite meal tonight, and pie for dessert for Buck. That boy would eat a whole can of whipped cream if I let him. Speaking of Buck, I know Buck misses you terribly. He’s always talking about you. Which would be annoying if it didn’t distract him from talking about Tommy.
I don’t know if Buck told you, but they broke up. Chris—if I’m keeping your secret about these emails I’m going to trust you with mine. I cannot stand Tommy Kinard. Maybe it’s because I view Buck as a son or maybe it’s because he thought Chim was the Chinese delivery guy when he first met him, but I’m so glad he’s out of Buck’s life. (This stays between you and me.)
I’m not sure if I answered your questions perfectly kiddo, but I hope it helped some. I hope you know that you can reach out to me at any time.
Yours in (hopefully) hatred of the Texas Rangers,
Bobby Nash
SUBJECT: Tommy Kinard pls get your filler dissolved
Dear Bobby,
Oh my god, thank god Buck is done dating that old weirdo!!! Not the racism allegations too, ugly AND problematic… pick a struggle.
Attachment: Ding Dong the Witch is Dead from the Wizard of Oz
We’ll talk more about Catholic guilt later, but for now I have to leave a five star review for an etsy witch!
Yours in Tommy Kinard Hatred,
Chris
SUBJECT: RE: Tommy Kinard pls get your filler dissolved
Chris-
Just so you know I made May translate most of your last email for me.
Talk soon!
Bobby
TO:
SUBJECT: Dear God it’s me Eddie [DRAFT]
Dear God,
Or Jesus? Or the holy ghost? I’m a catholic dropout so you’re going to go easy on me, the holy trinity always went a little over my head. I pray though. I know you know I pray. Or at least I hope you hear it. Sometimes I think you don’t hear me. Like when I lose someone on a call. Or when Chris left. If you heard me then, it sure didn’t feel like it. I know you sure as hell didn’t hear me for three minutes and seventeen seconds that day I lost Buck.
I know you do listen though. You listened when I asked for a sign with Shannon. You were an asshole for that one, do you know that? I wanted a rainstorm or a smoke signal. I didn’t ask you to kill my wife. Ex-wife. Whatever.
If you’re anything like what my parents say, you care about that kind of thing. Marriage and all of that. The sanctity of marriage was talked about a lot in the Diaz household. Is that why you killed her? You think it’s better for me to be a widower than be divorced? You think my kid is better without a mom? All so I can uphold our union in your name?
I hate you sometimes. I really do. I hate the way people use your name to make others feel small. I hate how guilty you make me feel. And you know what I hate most of all? I hate that the only times I actually properly feel like myself are the times where you say it’s wrong.
Frank asked me to write a letter to someone, but all of the paper is in Christopher’s room and I can’t go in there without having a panic attack. So email it is. I think Frank wanted me to write to Christopher or my mother or Buck, but for some reason I can only seem to type these words out to you. Maybe it’s because I’m so angry.
I’m really good at anger. Stupidly good at it actually, especially when it comes to you. You know what I hate most? It's that I’m going to write this useless email I can’t send and then I’m going to feel the shame all over again. I’m going to sign this email and I’m going to say some hail marys and I’m going to hold my Saint Christopher medallion and I’m not going to feel any fucking better.
So fuck you, and also with your spirit.
Eddie Diaz
TO: [email protected] [message to self]
SUBJECT: Don’t forget!!
Groceries:
Loft:
Flour!!!!
Sugar
Cinnamon
The house:
Oat milk
Eddie’s weird cereal bar
Guava juice
Eggs
Chicken thighs
Thyme
(Make sure to hide Guava juice behind oat milk so Eddie doesn’t see it. He can’t know I put juice in his seltzer so he’ll drink it!!)
SUBJECT: Tsunamis and animal handling
Dear Bobby,
This week we talked about Noah’s ark, of all things. I think it's because it rained most of this week. Maybe Father Moreland thought he was being timely. I think maybe that’s the thing that annoys me the most about church. How last week they can tell me most of my family in LA is going to hell and then the week after he’s preaching about zoo animals.
If I’m honest I zoned out for most of it. I didn’t want to think about what would happen if he started using the animals in pairs as a metaphor for heterosexuality. You were around for Buck’s gay research spiral so I know you know that some of the animals on that ark had pretty high rates of homosexuality. I don’t think Abuelo would be impressed if I started talking about gay lions.
I hate the Noah’s Ark story. I always have, even before the tsunami. Though don’t get me wrong, I also hate all of the flooding talk, but it’s the premise that really bothers me.
God is so mad at everybody on earth that he just starts over? Only one guy and his family are deemed worthy of saving? What about the babies?!
Actually speaking of that, what the hell is up with babies being born sinful? That one just isn’t going to ever sit right with me.
Anyway, back to it. So all of these people are apparently so awful that God just needs to flood the earth. Which if you’re God and you have infinite powers can’t you just snap your fingers and kill them? Why make them all drown? I don’t think there's anything scarier on this earth than watching the land around you disappear, and God just did that to everyone except Noah and his little zoo. Do you think all those people prayed to God not knowing he was the one who drowned them?
When Buck and I were on that fire truck, he worked really hard to keep me from seeing the worst of it, but I still saw a lot more than I wanted to. Was there some little boy and his dad sitting on a biblical fire truck waiting for the rain to wash them away? Did they play I spy like we did? Why did God let them die, but let Buck and I get out alive? It’s all so stupid and confusing.
I bet the Ark didn’t even follow best practice for animal care. Buck would have been on their case about that if he were there. Everyone else would be standing around waiting for the water levels to fall and Buck would be making sure the polar bears were kept in optimal conditions.
It’s so weird because no one has ever been able to really explain just what humanity did that pissed god off so badly. I mean Dad cheated on a nun with a zombie version of my mom, and it didn’t even sprinkle. What the hell did the babies do that was worse than that?
I know you want me to forgive Dad. Even if you’re being really nice about it and not saying it explicitly. Maybe I will someday, but I think the best I can do for now is promise that I won’t flood the earth.
You and I have never really talked about the tsunami. You and Dad were together, right? I know it triggered a pretty big fight between you and Buck. Hell, between Buck and the whole of the 118 really. I hated that time. I was waking up from nightmares every night, and dad wasn’t sleeping either. We both just wanted Buck, but things were so broken that neither of us could ask for him.
I hope he and Dad are leaning on each other while I’m gone. They don’t do well apart. I know you can’t comment on the whole Dad is probably gay thing, but dear god are they gay for each other. I was kind of hoping that Tommy would be the catalyst for them getting together, but I guess that would be expecting too much of lego-man.
Yours in tsunami trauma,
Chris
SUBJECT: RE: Tsunamis and animal handling
Good Morning Christopher,
You were so little when the Tsunami hit, I honestly had hoped you wouldn’t remember most of it. That’s probably asking too much of the human mind, but hey I’ve always been a man of faith.
I think if I was living any other life I’d think about the tsunami often, but our lives have never slowed down enough to properly process it. I think about the aftermath often though. The look on Buck’s face when they found you, the way your dad was hurting when he and Buck fought, the way everything led back to my own selfishness.
So yes, I’d say we both share some tsunami trauma. Did your grandparents have anything to say about it? They know about the tsunami, surely they could have drawn the connection. I hate thinking that going to church is causing all of these problems for you. Have you talked to your grandparents about not going? You’re definitely of the age where you can make your own choices about how you spend your Sunday mornings.
I also think if you mentioned it to your dad he’d advocate on your behalf. I know you mentioned that he struggles to advocate for himself with your grandparents, but he’d move heaven and earth for you kid. I know you’re not exactly interested in speaking to him, but you’re a pretty good pen pal. Maybe you could send him an email? Seems like a good first step if we’re out of flooding the earth territory.
It’s funny, the things we take away from the lessons in the bible. If I’m being honest that has never been my take away when I think about that story. Though I can completely understand why you’re thinking about it that way. You’re right though, I don’t think God was being fair.
I’m not sure how your priest wrapped up the story (and by your own admission I don’t think you do either), but for me the point of the story has always been that he was wrong. God made a choice that Noah could understand but not agree with.
Then they came together and God promised to never do it again, and you know how he made that promise? A rainbow.
Hell of a metaphor, huh?
I don’t know why God kept you and Buck safe that day, and let others die. I don’t know why God let me live all the times he has. I don’t even know if God has the power or the interest to make those individual decisions. All I know is that I’m thankful that I’m alive, and I’m thankful you two are too.
Have you ever heard the story of the man in the flood? I won’t tell the story perfectly, but it goes a little something like this.
A man heard a news report that the river was overflowing and going to flood the town. Everyone was told to evacuate. The man stays seated in his chair, he’s religious and prays every single day. He believes God will save him.
Still the waters rose. A man in a rowboat came to the house and shouted, “Sir, our town is flooding. Get in and I’ll take you to safety.” The man shook his head. He responded, “I’m a pious man. I pray and God loves me. I know he will save me.” So the man in the rowboat left.
The waters continued to rise. Finally a helicopter came and the pilot shouted for him to climb the ladder he dropped. Still the man shook his head. He was a religious man –God loved him– he, and he alone, would save him.
Well Christopher, you’ve been around enough emergencies to know what happens next. The man died. So there he stood at the gates of heaven, and he asked for an audience with God. He said “Holy Father, I pray to you every day. I am devoted to you. I thought you loved me. Why did you let me die?”
God looked at him and said, “I sent you a news report, a man in a rowboat, and a helicopter. What the hell are you doing here?”
That’s my incredibly long winded way of saying: keep looking for signs, and if you let him, God will help you keep your head above water.
Talk soon,
Bobby
TO:
SUBJECT: Per my last email [DRAFT]
Dear God,
It’s me again. Not sure if you were expecting another correspondence from me after our last one. Thanks for not responding by the way. I thought I got enough of that from my wife back in the day and now my son, but nice to know I can even get the man upstairs to ignore me.
At least with Chris I can pretend he’s busy with homework or video games, but you’re supposed to be omnipresent, motherfucker.
I don’t have to tell you this, but we put out a huge fire today. Student housing. Thankfully there weren’t too many people there because of the school break. Was that your doing? Needed a little holy fire, but couldn’t stomach taking too many lives? You just had to punish some seventeen year old for using a candle and then taking a nap, didn’t you?
Don’t worry Bobby reamed her out pretty badly. You know how he gets about fire safety especially when it hits so close to home like this.
I mean I get it. It was a huge fire. One of the biggest I’ve seen since being here. We’re lucky the sprinklers worked or it would have taken out the whole block. Being inside felt like stepping into an apocalypse movie. Sure it’s nothing I haven’t seen before, but it’s still jarring every time. The way flame can transform everything in a matter of moments.
Despite the size and the shitty infrastructure, guess what? Not a single loss of life. I bet you’re taking credit for that one aren’t you? Feeling all high and mighty because the fire you let happen didn’t kill anyone. God is good. I’m sure that’s what Pepa will say when I mention it. I’m sure all the people watching the news were praising your name.
I know better than that. Nobody died in that fire because Buck risked his life to save a girl trapped on the third floor. He was right behind me and he heard her scream and he just ran right back in. I would have ran after him if I didn’t have a person slung over my shoulder.
Just like always, Buck was the hero. Not almighty God, just a man with a savior complex and a lack of self preservation. He’s the reason there was no loss of life. Not you – him. Buck, it’s always Buck.
Every good thing is Buck.
Have I ever told you why I really became a firefighter? When people ask, I mention the camaraderie, and how I missed having a team after leaving the army. If you really pushed me I’d probably mention the health insurance and the benefits. Maybe I’d even mention that the only thing I’ve ever properly been good at is helping people.
None of that is why I’m a firefighter. Not really. No, instead, that honor belongs to you. I’m sure you’re racking your brain for when you sent me that sign. I mean you tend to ignore me, so surely you’d remember sending me a sign like that. The truth is you didn’t send me a sign and that’s why. I needed a sign. I always need a sign.
My wife had left me and I was suffocating in El Paso, and I needed a sign and nothing came. Dead air, radio silence, zip. I thought you might answer all the prayers I’d been sending you. I read the bible and I went to church even though I was out of my mind with fear all of the time. Still nothing ever came of it.
Then I remembered Moses. “There the angel of the lord appeared to him in flames of fire from within a bush.” He found you in fire. He ran toward the flame, and you spoke to him. I had spent my whole life running from things and Moses had run toward the burning bush.
That’s when I knew what I needed to do. I needed to go toward the fire and find you. LAFD was the best in the nation, and Shannon was there along with Tia and Abuela. Better yet, my parents weren’t there. All the puzzle pieces clicked into place. You still weren’t speaking to me, but I thought I had figured out how to make you talk.
It didn’t work. Of course it didn’t. When has anything ever truly worked for me? At first I didn’t understand why it wouldn’t work, but I think I finally figured it out. Because you know who I do see in every fire I’ve ever ran to with the 118? Buck.
Always Buck.
At first I thought it was just because we were partners. Of course I feel Buck’s presence in fires. Most of the time he’s only a few feet away from me. It only made sense that I would cling to the safest thing around while in a dangerous situation.
Then one day I picked up a shift Buck wasn’t on. It was a simple call looking back. A small house fire. The shift lead sent me upstairs to grab the daughter hiding under her bed. I was only in the house for five minutes, but Buck was somehow with me the entire time.
I saw his curls in the licks of the flame. Heard his laugh in the crackle of the fire. His eyes blinked at me through the thick smoke. Moses looked into a burning bush and saw you, and every time I look into the flames, I see Buck.
So that’s why you won’t talk to me, because I can’t properly worship at your altar. When I look for God I find Buck at every corner. You didn’t save that girl today, Buck did. You didn’t save Christopher in that tsunami, Buck did. The shooting, my mental breakdown, my son leaving, everything – it’s Buck that saves me. It’s always going to be Buck.
So why do I still want you so badly? Why am I still begging for your salvation?
I don’t know why I’m asking you these questions because you never fucking respond, but here I am sitting on my couch in my empty house begging you to talk to me.
Fuck you.
Eddie Diaz
SUBJECT: Order confirmation
Thanks for ordering from Lady’s Cafe! We hope to see you again soon!
Order Details:
1x Lg. Blueberry Latte w/ Oat Milk
1x Caramel Macchiato
2x Bagel Sandwiches
SUBJECT: Please fill these out.
Hi Dad,
Can you fill out these forms for a club I’m joining?
[link]
[link]
[link]
Thanks.
Christopher
SUBJECT: RE: Please fill these out.
Mijo,
The forms are attached, but the middle one was a link to an Am I Gay Quiz???? I’m assuming you sent the wrong thing.
Love you!
Dad
SUBJECT: RE: RE: Please fill these out.
Hm must have been the wind…
Thanks for your quick reply. I’ll send photos from club.
-Chris
SUBJECT: RE: RE: RE: Please fill these out.
If there’s anything you need to talk about I’m always here for you. Even now when we’re apart. Buck too. He might be better depending on what you need to talk about.
I love you!
Dad
SUBJECT: RE: RE: RE: RE: Please fill these out.
The quiz wasn’t for me. I remain a #ally. I was just sending it to someone who really needed it. Must have gotten my links confused lol.
Tell Buck I said hi.
Chris
TO:
SUBJECT: RE: Per my last email [DRAFT]
Real fucking funny. I ask you to talk to me and you send Buck to my door with breakfast, and Chris emails me an Am I Gay Quiz within twenty minutes.
This is the time you’ve decided to be prompt?
Once again fuck you.
Eddie Diaz
SUBJECT: FWD: Refer and save!
Hey Eddie!
I finally found my referral code for that headset brand Denny and Chris like. If you use it we both get 20% off our next purchase. Hen mentioned you wanted to send Chris something so I figured this might help!
See you at wine night tomorrow!
Karen
P.S. Please bring the weird blueberry wine you and Buck found at the farmers market again!!
SUBJECT: RE:FWD: Refer and save!
Karen,
You’re a lifesaver.
See you tomorrow!
Eddie
P.S. I know you only keep me around for the farmers market wine. They did a small batch of pomegranate wine that I bought so I’ll bring that too.
SUBJECT: Hi!!!!!!!111!!!!
BUck!
I have to do my therapy!!! I’m with the girls. No Karen–I’m not going to spell girls with a U and a Z that’s weird. Buck will think I’m lame. Oh shit does email have voice to text? Wait, how do I stop it? Karen help. Oh–OK.
Anyway Buck!!! How are you!??? I miss you!!!! I hope your face is good! Well I know it’s good it's always soooooooo good. But you bumped it against that tree today. Hen says you should put ice on it if you need!
Love you bye!1
Your BEST friedn,
Eddie
SUBJECT: RE: Hi!!!!!!!111!!!!
Eds,
Why are you emailing me? We were just texting like ten minutes ago. Is everything alright? Should I call?
Your Best Friend,
Buck
SUBJECT: RE: RE: Hi!!!!!!!111!!!!
Nooooooooo. Buck I’m doing my therapy. I have to send emails or Frank looks at me all mean. Normally I send my emails to God but he told me to talk to you instead I think??? So you get my email!! It’s different from text ing because it’s therapyyyyyy!
Did you know they made a song about us! Karen showed me tonight, the little lesbian boy geniuses made it. It’s called True Blue and they wrote it about uS! Isn’t that so nice of them. I love lesbians!!!!
Karen just said something sooooo funny. I wish you were here. Oh wait why aren’t you here? Come here please plesse please please!!!
Eddie!!!
SUBJECT: RE: RE: RE: Hi!!!!!!!111!!!!
Already in the car Eds. Can you drink some water for me before I get there?
See you soon,
Buck
SUBJECT: RE: RE: RE: RE: Hi!!!!!!!111!!!! [DRAFT]
water for now, because you asked. But juice soon I think
SUBJECT: Order Confirmation & Shipping Info
Hi Buck!
Thank you for purchasing Boygenius - The Record LP.
[clink this link to track your package]
SUBJECT: [blank]
Dear Bobby,
Did you know my dad has an uncle? Neither did I! Tía Sophia mentioned him accidentally during dinner the other night, and the room went silent. Grandma was so upset I’ve never seen her like that before. When I tried to ask about him she totally shut me down. Then she told me that he died, which is extra weird because we talk about dead people all the time.
I asked why I’ve never seen him on the ofrenda and she just ignored me and left the table. I tried to ask Sophia, but she told me I should ask my dad. I don’t know what dad can say that Tía can’t, but I think I’m going to email him about it. I like talking to you through email. It’s so much easier than calling my dad. Emailing gives me the time to think about what I’m saying.
If he mentions anything to you about it, would you tell me?
Remind me to tell you about the article I read about queerness in greek mythology after this all blows over.
Yours in confusing family secrets?
Chris
SUBJECT: RE: [blank]
Chris-
I'll call him. Let me know if you need anything kiddo.
Bobby
SUBJECT: No more secrets please.
Hi Dad,
Remember when we got really into dungeons and dragons one summer, and Buck kept trying to cast zone of truth every five minutes even though that’s not how that spell works? Well I’m casting zone of truth. It’s a charisma save, and you have an automatic disadvantage on those.
Tía Sophia mentioned an old Christmas memory at dinner last night and she brought up a family member I didn’t know we had. How come you didn’t tell me? Grandma says that he died, but I don’t understand why I never heard about him.
Don’t lie because if you do I’ll make you roll a death save with disadvantage, and you know how hard Buck cried when you almost died during a boss fight.
Look forward to hearing from you.
Christopher Diaz
High Paladin
P.S. I REALLY want to make a joke about me and Buck both having mystery dead family members, but I know Buck reads over your shoulder sometimes and it’s 50/50 on if he’d laugh or cry.
SUBJECT: RE No more secrets please.
Mijo,
No one died. I’m really sorry your grandmother said that, and I’m more sorry we’re having this conversation over email. (Seriously Chris, I know you think I’m old but I know how to text and facetime.) Your grandmother’s sibling transitioned when I was twelve. Her name is Louise and she lives in Austin as far as I know. Your grandmother didn’t react to the news very well, and said some things that weren’t okay. Your great aunt used to send letters to the house during the holidays, but that stopped a couple of years before you were born. Your grandmother told me I was forbidden from contacting her, and your Tías were too young to understand. I really think Sophia thinks she’s dead.
We were very close before she transitioned, and it’s not the easiest thing to talk about. You’re right though, it wasn’t fair for you to be kept in the dark about it.
I could tell you some stories about her, if you want? Just don’t bring it up to your grandmother. I don’t want her to take out her complicated feelings on you.
I love you!
Dad
P.S. Buck says the joke would have landed.
SUBJECT: RE: RE:No more secrets please.
Dad-
Stories would be nice. I’m really sorry. Grandma and Abuelo can be really close minded sometimes.
Love you,
Christopher
P.S.
I think you should start listening to Chappell Roan. I think you’d like her music.
SUBJECT: Louise
Mijo,
One year, when I was nine, she let me stay at her house for the whole summer. It was the best three months of my entire childhood. She had a pool, and she let me stay up past my bedtime and we never went to church. It was like heaven. Maybe better than heaven.
The best way I can describe it is she was like my Buck. Complete unconditional love without all of the baggage of being my actual parent. I just got to be a kid with her. I didn’t have to worry about being the man of the house or worry about what was going on with my baby sisters. I just got to be Eddie.
At the time she was still presenting as a man, and it was sort of freeing to see someone not be so worried about the rules of masculinity. Obviously it’s different, but I didn’t know that then.
She used to paint my nails. She was so proud of how patient I could be when she painted them. She had the prettiest shade of light blue. Almost grey, but still blue. I was obsessed with it. I wore it on my nails the whole time I was there. Any time there was a chip I’d beg her to repaint them. She always did without fail, never complaining.
That’s the kind of person she was–patient. I can’t imagine how she was so wonderful with how much I know she must have been hurting. Especially the things I know that our family was saying about her – both behind her back and to her face.
She was the absolute best aunt ever. (DON’T TELL TÍA PEPA I SAID THAT).
I miss her a lot. I know I promised I’d get better about talking about people I miss, but it’s so hard. I know you’re spending a lot of time with your Abuelo and I know you love him and I don’t ever want that to change, but we didn’t always get along. He wanted me to “be a man,” and I know I’m never going to be the son he pictured.
He was really upset. When I came home that summer with my nails painted, he made me scrub it off with hot water in the sink.
I hope it’s different for you, but if it ever isn’t just say the word. You deserve to live in a world without worrying about my old man’s worldview. You’re perfect just the way you are mijo.
Love always,
Dad
P.S. Buck wants to play Stardew Valley tonight, please don’t let him romance Shane again. I hate that guy.
SUBJECT: RE: Louise
Dad,
It’s embarrassing that you’re jealous of a fictional character. You know Buck likes fixer-uppers, and has objectively bad taste in men.
Thank you for telling me about her. I’m sorry you have been apart for so long. I can’t imagine never talking with Buck again. I bet the nail polish looked really nice on you.
I’ll call Buck soon and we can play. Maybe you can be on the call too?
Love you,
Chris
SUBJECT: Nail polish and Fathers
Dear Bobby,
Dad and I talked. Properly. Well partially over email and then a little bit while Buck and I played video games, but it’s progress. An olive branch if you will.
Ever since I learned about my estranged great aunt, I’ve been seeing Dad a lot more in the house. I had my grandmother pull out an old photo album and it’s suddenly like my dad is haunting the place.
There’s this one photo of him from when he was in third grade. He’s got a missing tooth and he must have just had a growth spurt because his pants are a little too short for him. His head is cocked to the side and he’s smiling. It’s the first time I’ve ever looked at him and thought he looked like me.
No one has ever told me I look like dad, which is fair because I don’t. Everybody who knew Mom thinks I look like her and everyone who doesn’t thinks I look like Buck.
This picture though–I can finally see it. The way he’s smiling and the way his hair flops in his face, it’s practically identical to the picture Buck and Dad took of me at the zoo when I was that age.
I think if you had asked me a couple of weeks ago it would have really pissed me off how much I look like Dad. Honestly, I probably would have been so angry that I wouldn’t have even noticed how much we look alike. I’m not as angry any more now, at least not the same way I was.
When Dad and I were talking, he mentioned that my Abuelo made him scrub all of the nail polish he wore with hot water. I can picture him there every time I walk past the sink. I’m not sure if you’ve ever worn nail polish, but it’s a killer to get off.
Jee-Yun went through a huge nail painting phase last year, and you have to use a special remover to get it off or let it crack off itself. One time we didn’t have any remover at the house and I tried to wash it off for like thirty minutes and it chipped but never came all the way off.
All I can picture is him, still probably too little to properly stand above the kitchen sink, scrubbing his nails. I’ve washed my hands in that sink and the water gets HOT. I know Abuelo would have turned it to the hottest setting. He’s always been like that with Dad, forcing him to show how tough he is.
I can picture him using a sponge or maybe one of those coarse cleaning brushes and just scraping at his nails to get the polish off. I can imagine him holding back his tears just like I used to do. Except I did it so my father didn’t feel sad; he did it so his father didn’t feel angry.
Dad says he doesn’t believe in curses, but I know it’s just because he worked so hard to break them. He bottled up all of his anger and pain in the hopes he wouldn’t pass it on to me like his father had passed it on to him.
He worked so hard to put out the wildfire of rage that runs in our families blood, but you know fires. Sometimes you just have to let them burn. Sometimes you have to save everything you can around the fire even if it means the original thing is going to collapse. Save the apartment building next door, but not the restaurant on fire; save your son, but not yourself.
That’s what dad did. I think I understand that now.
The problem is is that I’m still fucking angry. The rage still lives in my blood. I’m still mad at him, at Abuelo, and mostly at myself.
This email is already a little all over the place, but hopefully you’ll forgive one more tangent. The Rangers have lost the last four games they’ve played. Maybe God is angry with Abuelo too. Maybe he’ll send a flood to Texas soon. Let’s just hope I’m ready to be back in LA by then.
Yours in firefighting (though mine’s the metaphorical kind),
Chris
SUBJECT: RE: Nail Polish and Fathers
Chris,
Baseball and fire metaphors, you're really starting to speak my language here, kid. Anger is such an easy emotion isn’t it? It’s so much easier to be angry than to be sad or grieving or guilty.
Forgive me if this is a leap, but I think that’s what’s happening here. You’re angry because it’s easier than feeling grief. You miss your mom, you’re always going to miss your mom. That’s never going to change, and it’s a lot easier to feel angry about it than accept that you’re never going to stop missing her.
That anger is normal–valid even, but you can’t live in it forever. You’ll burn out. You’re right that sometimes the only thing we can do is let the building collapse, but those aren’t the only kind of fires we put out. A lot of times we do save the building.
I know you’ve spent most of your life in LA so you know a thing or two about wildfires, but did you know that sometimes the fire is the best thing for the environment? Sometimes we have to burn everything down to start anew. The land has been doing that on its own for ages.
The only problem is humans built houses and hospitals and outlet malls, and nature still wants to start over occasionally. I think that’s what happened to your dad. Nature decided it needed a change where your dad had built his life. I don’t think it’s his fault he was in the fire zone.
Sometimes we build things on an unsteady foundation without even realizing. I built a family as an addict and I shouldn’t have been surprised when it collapsed around me. Things have to break Christopher. That’s life.
What’s important is that you can’t give up on trying to rebuild them. Nature comes back after wildfires, buildings get rebuilt after collapses, and people get back up after falling down. Rome wasn’t built in a day, but it was built brick by brick.
No one said it’s going to be easy to forgive your dad, but I’m proud of you for continuing to try.
I know I mentioned this before, but you don’t get your dad today without that little boy washing nail polish off at the sink. That kid lives in him to this day. It’s not your job to fix him or heal what’s broken, but maybe the mystery that is Eddie Diaz will become a little less confusing for you.
Yours in metaphors,
Bobby
P.S. The Rangers SUCK.
SUBJECT: FWD: Order confirmation
Hi Dad,
Keep an eye out for this package. Should be there tomorrow. I hope the color is similar enough to the one you remember. This one reminded me of Buck’s eyes.
Talk soon,
Chris
P.S. Threw in some nail polish remover too!
[click to load more]
SUBJECT: Reaching Out
Hello,
I’m not really sure how to start this. I’ve rewritten this email a million times and nothing ever sounds right, so I’m just going to type this all out and hit send. So if you see any grammar mistakes or anything, blame it on that (or the Texas public school system).
I hope this is your email. Buck found it after doing like an hour of googling. Buck is my best friend and partner. We’re firefighters in LA. I’m not sure if you knew that. I’m not even sure if you know that I was in the army or that I had a son named Christopher.
That’s why I’m emailing you actually, because of my son. He’s fourteen and he’s the greatest kid in the world. To make an incredibly long story short his mom is dead and he and I had a fight so he’s staying with Mom and Dad for the summer. (Not my idea).
Anyway, he's in Texas and Sophia mentioned you. Not in a bad way, just mentioned a memory and you were in it. I’ll spare you the details, but you know my parents and you can guess how it all went down. Christopher asked about you, and I told him.
I told him some stories about you, about the summer you let me stay with you. I talked about how much I loved you, and about how free I was there. I told him about how you would paint my nails, and I told him about how angry my father had been that day he saw them.
The hardest part was telling them how long it’s been since I’ve seen you, how much I miss you. How much shame I have because I never reached out. Partly because I never knew where you were, but also because I don’t even know what I’d say.
Christopher has spent most of his life in LA surrounded by an accepting community, he just doesn’t understand what it was like for me in El Paso. So I know that means that I don’t fully understand what it was like for you there.
Except in some ways I do think I know what it was like for you. Not the same, but similar. I still feel the way my chest felt too tight in church, the weight of my father’s expectations on my shoulders, and the butterflies that turned to knots when I found myself looking at a boy for too long.
Sometimes I close my eyes and I’m twelve years old again and you and mom are screaming at each other and I know in my heart that I’m never going to see you again. Did you know that whole year every night before bed I prayed that god wouldn’t send you to hell?
I never prayed for you to be different or to change your mind about who you were, even though I know that’s what Mom was doing. I just would sit down each night and tell God about how much I loved you, how much goodness you brought to the world. Every night before I fell asleep I’d tell him that heaven wasn’t worth it if people like you weren’t there.
Then the next year, my friend and I told our moms we were seeing the Chronicles of Narnia but we really snuck into Brokeback Mountain, and my whole life turned upside down. I stopped going to confession because I couldn’t face what I would have to stay, and I stopped asking God to send you to heaven, because I knew I wasn’t making it there anyways.
I’m gay. I’ve never said that to anyone before–out loud or on paper–but I figured you deserved to know first.
I’m sorry to dump all of this on you. I know it’s been more than twenty years, and I know you probably associate me with a lot of pain. I just sort of hope that there’s a world where we could talk or see each other again, but the ball is fully in your court.
When Buck was looking you up he said he thinks you live in Santa Barbara now, honestly I thought you still lived in Austin, but if you are that close I’d love to visit. Hell, I’d fly to Austin or anywhere really, if you wanted me to.
Assuming you get this email and you read this far thank you. Thank you for reading this. Thank you for caring about me more than anyone ever did when I was young. Thank you for painting my nails. Most of all thank you for existing.
Yours,
Eddie Diaz
P.S. I’ve attached some pictures of me, Chris, and Buck if you’re interested.
SUBJECT: RE: Reaching out
My darling nephew,
I’m much too old to be emailing, but I’ll make the exception just this once for you. Next time you want to say sweet things to me we’ll do it over the phone, I miss that laugh of yours. Christopher is a beautiful boy, I’ll have to meet him in person when he comes back and you both come to Santa Barbara.
If you’re so sure God is going to make you suffer in the afterlife, I’m not sure why you’ve spent all this time suffering in your mortal life too. Let God send me to hell, if it’s for all the reasons I’ve been told I’m going, then at least I know I won’t be short of good company.
You deserve to be happy, even God can’t argue against that Eddie.
Call me soon,
Louise
TO:
SUBJECT: I’m listening [Draft]
Dear God,
I think this might be the last email I send to you. Or by send, I mean type out and keep in my drafts. I think maybe you’re not the person I need to be talking to anymore. Maybe this is why Frank suggested I write to Chris or Buck. Still I’ve got a couple more things to say if you don’t mind.
The first time Abuela did the sign of the cross after I returned from falling out of the sky she pointed right at the wound in my shoulder. I don’t even think she realized she was doing it. Just trying to keep me safe the way she always had. She couldn’t have known that each motion of her hand felt like tying the noose around my neck tighter.
Then I got shot again and suddenly my shoulders were the arms of the cross. I spent ages waiting for the bullets that were sure to come for my head and my stomach. Me and Jesus. Him strung up on the cross and me bleeding out on the pavement somewhere.
Except this time Buck wouldn’t save me and I wouldn’t be strong enough to save myself. I would die for no one's sins except for my own and my parents would bury me with some psalm on my tombstone, an American flag on my coffin, and four bullets in the shape of the cross on my body.
Then the other night I dreamt. I don’t do that often, dream I mean. Nightmares sure, but dreams often allude me. I dreamt of Buck. Of him kissing me. Completely PG I promise father, but I dreamt of him kissing me. Once on each shoulder, then on my stomach then finally on my forehead.
Not bullet wounds, just the ghost of Buck’s lips on my skin.
Judas kissed Jesus before betraying him. Did Jesus think about Judas’s lips on the cross? Did he take his last breaths thinking about the few breaths he shared with Judas?
I ask because I know I would. If Buck kissed me and then sent me to my death, I’d be content to die knowing how his lips tasted.
Of course, I am not Jesus and Buck is not Judas, and I will not die on the cross. I don’t think I’ll die from a bullet either, but I worry I might die without telling Buck that I love him.
I do love him, you know that. I’m sure you’ve known longer than I have. I think everyone has known longer than I have. Karen gives me knowing looks, Bobby stares with a little too much pity, Chimney drops sly comments and Chris keeps sending me gay music recommendations and quizzes.
When I look around at my life at all the things I hold dearest I can’t help but notice they’re all the things I was taught to repent. A child conceived out of wedlock, a family made up of sinners and nonbelievers, and the greatest love I’ve ever known being another man. The happiness I prayed for made up of so called sins.
If you want to send me to hell, that’s fine. I ran into fires looking for you and you never let me burn. Maybe you’ll do the same with hellfire.
Amen,
Eddie Diaz
SUBJECT: Something to tell you
Mijo,
I know this is an odd thing to share over email, but I’m not sure I’d be able to say it on a call. I know I promised no more secrets, but I’ve got one last big one. Before you get upset you have to understand that this wasn’t something I properly realized or was able to accept until very recently.
I’m gay.
For a very long time I loved going to church. I loved the sense of community and the rituals. More than anything I loved God. I loved being close to him, and knowing that he was keeping us safe. As a boy I was expected to be the man of the house, and God gave me comfort that he could help me if I ever failed.
Except I did fail, and I just kept failing. I was never a man enough for my parents. I never fit in in my own skin. I was broken.
I just wanted to be normal.
I know you probably already knew (the Am I Gay Quiz and the Chappell Roan songs weren’t exactly slick, kid), but I felt like I had to tell you. You’re the kindest, most accepting person I know so please don’t think I’m worried about that, but if this changes anything or you have any questions please let me know.
I love you so much,
Dad
SUBJECT: Don’t worry I’m a #ally
Dad,
I do have some questions, but I just wanted to say that I’m really proud of you. Hope you don’t mind but I’ve organized my questions into a list.
-
Do other people know? I don’t want to out you but also I kind of want to talk to the LA fam about it.
-
Does Buck know? If so, have you guys kissed yet?
-
If yes to the last question, did you know you can get married at the zoo? (It’s probably expensive, but can you put a number on true love???)
-
Are you going to tell Abuelo and Grandma? If I’m being honest, I’m a little worried about what their reaction will be.
Do you remember when you almost died in a well and still came to my show and tell? I was so obsessed with your silver star, and I really wanted to impress my classmates. I think you could tell in that moment how proud I was of you, even if I’m not great at saying it.
I’m proud of you when you run into burning buildings, and when you save lives. I’m proud when I think about you in Afghanistan. I’m proud that you let Mom back into my life even though now I can see how much that hurt you, and I’m proud of you for keeping me together when she left again. I’m proud that you grew up in this house being gay and still managed to survive.
More than anything I’m proud of you for accepting this part of you. I’m proud of you for telling me, and for overcoming a long battle with yourself to do it.
One day, I’m going to come home and we’re going to watch every gay movie ever made and I’m going to make fun of your big dumb crush on Buck, and I’ll tell you to your face how proud I am. For now, I’m in El Paso and you’re in LA, so this email will just have to do.
Love you,
Chris
P.S. The quizzes and the song recommendations were NOT meant to be subtle. I was doing subtle things for the last five years and it didn't work. You’re dense as hell, Dad.
SUBJECT: RE: Don’t worry I’m an #ally
Mijo,
I haven’t told anyone besides you, my Aunt Louise and God. I’m planning on doing it soon, I'm just not sure how. Buck is next on my list. He’s coming over in twenty minutes. I didn’t know people could get married at the zoo, but I do know that I am not currently planning for or saving for a wedding. You really did throw subtlety out of the window, huh?
I’m not sure if I’m going to tell your grandparents. I think you and I both know that the reaction wouldn’t be a great one. Maybe when you’re ready to be back in LA I’ll tell them. I don’t want them to take out their anger on you, instead of me.
Thank you for your kindness. I know you’re proud of me, but I’ve never been prouder than knowing I raised a kid as amazing as you.
Dad
P.S. For real though I have no idea how to tell anyone. Buck is showing up in 20, wait shit now 15 minutes, and my only plan is to just try not to throw up.
SUBJECT: RE: RE: Don’t worry I’m an #ally
Well email is always an option, right?
Except Buck–you should kiss him on the mouth.
SUBJECT: RE: RE: RE: Don’t worry I’m an #ally
You’re a genius. Not the kissing on the mouth thing. Well maybe. No wait, definitely not. The email thing.
TO: A-Shift Mailing List
SUBJECT: FYI
Good Afternoon,
I just wanted to inform you all that I am gay.
I trust you all with my life everyday and you trust me with yours so I didn't want to keep this secret.
In an effort to not have a full scale mental breakdown, I will being turning my phone off for the next 48 hours. If I don't show up for shift on Thursday please assume I've died of embarrassment, a copy of my will can be found on file in Bobby's office.
Also please feel free to forward this to anyone you deem worthy of knowing. I'd prefer to literally never come out again.
Thanks,
Eddie
TO: [email protected], [email protected], [email protected] +16 more [click here to load full list]
SUBJECT: FWD: FYI
-Chim
SUBJECT: RE: FWD FYI
Honey,
It literally took you less than a minute to forward that email to everyone we know. I know we joke about you being bad a keeping secrets, but that was sort of overkill don't you think?
Maddie
SUBJECT: RE: RE: FWD FYI
Darling-
He literally asked me to send it to you all. If he hadn't, I only would have forwarded it to you… and Karen… and maybe Albert.
Also we're going to win so much money on the BuckandEddie bet.
Love you!
Chim
TO: BuckandEddie Bet Mailing List
SUBJECT: Side-bet update, cash prize tally, and reminders
Good Morning All,
In light of some recent developments on the BuckandEddie front your co-chairs of the 118 betting committee wanted to send a message. For ease of understanding everything written in plain text will be from Hen and everything written in Bold will be from Chimney. Because I'm bold and daring. Because you're abrasive. Ouch.
First and foremost for those of you who were involved in the side bet of which would come first Gay Eddie or BuckandEddie, I would like to be able to officially call this one, but we need a confirmation that BuckandEddie are not official as of yet. Anyone who can prove this would be very appreciated.
As a reminder just because side bets are won does not mean pay outs will be distributed until BuckandEddie are officially together. Our betting system will only cash out once those two idiots kiss. For those of you who don't remember, this is actually beneficial to you. Our funds are in a high yield savings account and any money invested has yielded interest so we can have the highest payout possible.
This will unfortunately require some complicated math on our part when the time comes, but that's why we're the co-chairs of the betting committee. Maybe Buck will get struck by lightning again and he can do the math for us.
Chimney no… Anyway, moving on. Once we can confirm that Buck and Eddie aren't BuckandEddie we can officially include Gay Eddie before BuckandEddie as one of the winning side bets. As a reminder the other winning side bets so far have been:
Buck coming out before Eddie.
Ana Flores not being the catalyst for BuckandEddie.
Tommy Kinard not being the catalyst for BuckandEddie. (Special shout out to Athena and Maddie for being the only people to correctly win that one).
Buck and Eddie not adopting the baby that got left at the firehouse. (I'm still mad about that one, Jee-Yun deserves a cousin.)
Lena Bosko locking them in a closet not working.
Buck crying at Eddie's Christmas present (x4) (seriously Ravi you gotta stop betting against that it's always going to happen).
Tommy and Buck breaking up before a BuckandEddie love confession.
Since our last email a couple people's selected windows have passed. We do have a three week gap policy in place so all hope is not lost. Because we believe it would be physically impossible for those idiots to keep their relationship a secret for more than three weeks. Once those three weeks pass you're more than welcome to buy back into the bet at the standard $20 entry point and select when you believe BuckandEddie will become official.
As a reminder, we do NOT interfere with the bet in any way whatsoever!!!! If you do you will be removed from the bet and we keep your money.
Another reminder I feel as though I have to say as the reigning lesbian and co-chair. Everyone has the right to come out on their own time and their experience with coming out is valid. Eddie and Buck are the exception, not the rule.
Like Hen said this has only gotten as large as it has because our friends are idiots and obliviously in love. Speaking of large, the cash prize for correctly predicting the BuckandEddie day is up to $10,129. Yes that's right people, we're up to five digits.
If you have any questions or concerns please reach out, and once again if anyone has proof that BuckandEddie aren't together yet we'd love to confirm that for the bet.
Thanks everyone,
Hen and Chimney!
TO: BuckandEddie Bet Mailing List
SUBJECT: If you're in line for BuckandEddie canon stay in line!!!!
Hi All-
Buck said today and I quote, "Eddie being gay doesn't mean he has feelings for me. Honestly it's kind of homophobic of you to even suggest that." Mind you, he was saying that to a woman in a car accident because she asked if he was single.
I've never seen a woman be more confused. I took an extra shift today to get away from Buck being a bi-disaster, if I had known Buck would be there I wouldn't have picked up the shift.
I wasn't put on this earth to suffer, I'm not catholic.
-Ravi
SUBJECT: FWD: Cake options
Hi Chris!
Mom's baker connection sent along some of the potential designs for the Gay Eddie cake. 48 hours isn't a lot of time so he wasn't able to use your suggestion of a fondant Jesus and Judas kissing, but Mom said when she told Bobby about it he laughed so hard he cried.
Also ignore the "Eddie puts the ASS in Texas," one, that's already been vetoed by both my parents. I'm personally a fan of the "another member of the ONE GAYTEEN" cake, but the pink pony club one is a close second.
Let me know ASAP so we can let the baker know.
Also Mom wants to know if you'd be cool with a fondant Buck and Eddie kissing on a cake when they go official. I said you'd be fine with it, but she told me to confirm.
Also can you please get the hell out of Texas?
Denny
SUBJECT: RE: FWD: Cake options
Hi Denny (and Hen and Karen),
I think we do one gayteen now and we can do the pink pony club one for his birthday. This is the baker that does sculpture work with rice krispies right? If so, I call dibs on the future pink cowboy hat.
I'm down for fondant Dad and Buck kissing, but I'm NOT posing with the cake when it happens.
I'll be home before Dad's birthday I promise (and probably before Dad and Buck kiss knowing them), I just need a little more time.
Chris
P.S. had the coolest idea to build the Santa Monica Pier in Minecraft. Text me when you finish your homework tonight and we can start.
SUBJECT: Photos from coming out BBQ
Hi Eddie!
I took waayyyyyy too many photos at your coming out party and didn't want to send them all through text. Making good use of the camera my dad got me for christmas! I know you're bad at taking photos and didn't want you to get FOMO from not having any pictures ;).
Also you look stupidly in love with Buck in most of these pictures jsyk. A win for gay rights, but a loss for me having to look at them.
I know I said it at the party, but I love you and I'm proud of you!
May
P.S. If you and Buck get married you'll be my step brother in law. Do you understand the power we could hold??!
SUBJECT: RE: Photos from coming out BBQ
You're really great at taking photos and really horrible at being a kind human being.
SUBJECT: RE: RE: Photos from coming out BBQ
I will venmo you $100 if you can prove you didn't change your lock-screen to that picture of Buck putting frosting on your nose.
SUBJECT: RE: RE: RE: Photos from coming out BBQ
I'm not the kind of man who can be bought, Grant. I don't have anything to prove to the likes of you.
SUBJECT: You are gay
Attached some photos from the BBQ. You gotta learn to put your lovesick eyes away, bro, they're lethal.
Please kiss him already!
May
P.S. Can we get Taco Bell tonight? I want a baja blast.
SUBJECT: RE: You are gay
I will venmo you $1000 if you don't send those photos to Eddie.
Buck
P.S. Yes please! Eddie is fixing Tía Pepa's water heater tonight so I have no plans.
SUBJECT: RE: RE: You are gay
I'm not the kind of woman who can be bought, Buckley. AND you're buying taco bell <3
May
SUBJECT: SOS
Bobby,
I need to go home now. Dad and I were facetiming while my grandparents were in the room. It was actually going kind of well and then dad scratched his nose and then they noticed his nails were painted.
Everything blew up. Grandma starting lecturing him, and Abuelo told him that men shouldn't be wearing nail polish. Grandma told Dad that he promised he wouldn't drag me down with him and now look at what he's doing.
What the fuck does that mean?
Then Dad started snapping back at them and Abuelo. God, Abuelo called him really awful things, and I started yelling. Grandma sent me to my room and I hung up on dad so he wouldn't have to keep talking to them.
I can't stay here. I knew they were very old school, but I've never actually heard anyone say some of those things out loud. I don't know how they could say that to anyone, let alone their own son.
Bobby the worst part is I'm the one who bought him that nail polish, it's all my fault. Shit.
I already called Buck and he's going to go check on Dad at the house, but I need to leave. God is going to flood El Paso and I'm not going to be here when it happens.
Bobby what the hell do I do?
Chris
SUBJECT: FWD: Your flight is confirmed
Chris-
Your flight leaves in eight hours, you have three hours to tell your dad you're coming home before I tell him. Just pack a suitcase and we can deal with getting the rest of your stuff later.
We're all excited to get you home, bud.
Bobby
[click to load more]
SUBJECT: Home
Dad-
You're not answering your phone, I think you probably turned it off to avoid my grandparents—which—fair enough. So you're getting this all in an email, which is weirdly fitting given our whole dynamic lately.
I've been going to church every week since I've been in Texas. One of the little old church ladies told me that our family has sat in the same pews since you all started going there.
I sat where you sat. That used to make me so angry. I felt like I was being haunted by you here. Everywhere I turned there you were. I thought maybe God was laughing at me. Then Father Moreland preached that homosexuality was a sin, and I realized that maybe God was laughing at you.
Do you remember that stomach bug I had when I was ten and I threw up like twelve times and you got so stressed you took me to the firehouse so Hen could administer fluids? I used to say that was the sickest I've ever been, but not anymore.
Now that honor goes to how I felt when Abuelo and Grandma didn't say anything to disagree with that homophobic priest. Is it like how you felt? I imagine it is.
In so many ways, I'm so exactly like you, even if I somehow got Buck's genes. (Another way god is laughing at you, by the way). I can imagine you felt sick like I did, only a million times worse.
It's funny, I'm sure when we first learned that people thought being gay was a sin, we both thought about you. God, that makes me so angry. I don't understand how anyone could look at you and not be sure God made you exactly the way you are for a reason.
Anger. It's all I've felt since I got to Texas. Angry at you. At Abuelo. At Grandma. Just so angry. I can't walk into the kitchen without seeing you at nine years old scrubbing nail polish off your nails. I can't go to bed without imagining you praying before bed as a kid. I can't breathe without thinking about you suffocating here.
I hate that you think you're going to hell. I hate that you spent years of your life hiding a part of yourself. I hate the way I can see you force your eyes away from Buck when you think you've been staring too long. I hate the way I can see your shoulders tense when Abuela does the sign of the cross across your forehead.
I hate that you gave up the end of your childhood to give me the start of mine. I hate that you gave me Buck even though you think you can't have all of him. I hate that if you had been living your authentic self, I would have never been born, and I hate that I'm thankful I was born. More than anything, I hate that I can't fix it.
Do you ever ask God for forgiveness? Do you ever ask God for my forgiveness?
I do forgive you. Mostly. I forgive the baby who was born without his father in the hospital room. I forgive the toddler who drew a smiley face on the old chess set that sits in the living room. I forgive the nine year old boy who just wanted to wear nail polish.
I forgive the twelve year old who lost his his version of Buck. I forgive the teenager who joined ballroom dancing specifically because rehearsals were on Sunday mornings. I forgive the nineteen year old who knocked up his girlfriend.
I forgive the boy, not yet a man, who ran off to Afghanistan because it was the only light he could see in the tunnel. I forgive the twenty six year old who got me the hell out of Texas even though everyone doubted him. I forgive the man who followed a woman he couldn't ever truly love in the hopes that his son could have a mother.
I forgive the man who facetimed me so I could tell him about a nature documentary I watched last weekend and ended up being forced to confront trauma he didn't deserve.
Do I forgive the man who tried to revive my dead mom in the form of a weird doppelganger? Not really, but that's not the only Dad there is. I can forgive 99% of you and that's enough for me, now.
Bobby bought me a plane ticket. (Which thank god because if he hadn't my only other plan was to call Tommy Kinard to fly me home, which ew!!). Bobby's been my guide through Catholicism during my stint in Texas. It's kind of a long story. He really loves adopting Buckleys, huh? (Buckley-Diaz in my case, but the point remains).
Bobby has been great, but I'd rather you and Buck pick me up from the airport if that's cool with you. I'll forward my flight info.
I'll text Buck to make you check your email, and I'll see you tonight.
I love you, and I forgive you,
Chris
TO:[email protected] [sent to self]
SUBJECT: Shopping List for Chris's Welcome Back Party
Decor (Party Store):
-Cowboy hats
-Minecraft napkins
Grocery Store:
-Lemonade
-Hot dogs
-Burgers
-Watermelon
-Sweet Corn (a lot!!!! Eddie loves sweet corn)
-Thank you card for Hen and Karen for taking Chris camping with them for the long weekend
UNRELATED TO CHRIS'S PARTY DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT THE SAME SENTENCE BUCK:
-sunflowers
-lube (hide in glove-box bc you will die if Eddie sees it, but also you must buy it in case sunflower & Chris is away camping plan goes well, oh my god I'm going die of embarrassment if anyone ever reads this email)
SUBJECT: Form so I can legally kiss Eddie!!!!
Cap!
Passing along my disclosure form! Thanks for not firing me and hiring Eddie all those years ago. We got close like you wanted :)
Buck
SUBJECT: Workplace Relationship Disclosure Forms
Hi Cap,
Attached is my signed copy of the Workplace Relationship Disclosure Form. Also I just received your google calendar invite for a "meeting." Just so you know, I can see that you wrote "give Eddie the shovel talk" in the meeting notes.
See you soon,
Eddie
SUBJECT: RE: Workplace Relationship Disclosure Forms
Eddie,
I was unaware of that particular google calendar feature…
TO: BuckandEddie Bet Mailing List
SUBJECT: Final Results
Good Morning Everyone,
Congratulations on making it to the end of this journey! Chim and I (Hi!!!) are here for the final results of the BuckandEddie bet. After holding Eddie at gunpoint (literally just asking Buck) we finally have the answers to all of the side bets and the official date of BuckandEddie.
To start off our side bets winners:
Chris coming home is the catalyst for BuckandEddie: Bobby, Karen, Hen, Ravi and Maddie.
BuckandEddie do not try and hide their relationship : Athena, Chim, Hen, Maddie, Josh and May.
BuckandEddie tell Bobby first: May, Athena, Karen, and Hen. (Maddie is pissed about this btw) (And a special shout out to my lovely wife Karen who managed to exactly predict that they would do it through emailing workplace disclosure forms.)
Eddie makes the first move: Ravi and Athena. Huge sweep in this category folks! Probably because these idiots were both planning on confessing their feelings at the same time. Eddie beat Buck by about thirty seconds.
And finally our big reveal! Our winner is Captain Bobby Nash. Congrats Cap don't spend it on a cruise! …Chimney please no…
Also as a bonus if Buck and Eddie had waited one more day Athena would have won so either way the money was going to the Grant-Nash household.
I'd be more mad if I didn't know that Bobby and Athena put in the most money into the bets by a landslide.
Thank you all for sticking with us on this roller coaster ride folks! If you won, be on the lookout for a venmo from @118bets.
Your co-chairs,
Hen and Chimney
TO: BuckandEddie Bet Mailing List
SUBJECT: RE: final results
So who wants to bet on who is going to propose first!?
-Chim
SUBJECT: God is dead and my dads killed him
Bobby,
Can I come live with you? I just had to watch Buck and Dad kiss in the grocery store. My forgiveness journey was all for nothing. If God is real, may he strike me down now.
What did I do to deserve this?
Seriously though I just wanted to thank you for answering my first email and helping me and Dad connect again. You were an anchor for me during a really uncertain time. I still have a lot of feelings about religion and God, but I'm glad you were there talk it through with me.
Although, as it turns out I think God was listening to me because the Rangers just had their worst season in 35 years.
Take that Abuelo.
Yours,
Chris
SUBJECT: Re: God is dead and my dads killed him
God bless the Minnesota twins! Proud of you kid.
Yours,
Bobby