“I see you never made it to the priesthood.”
Don fought down the defensive feelings that rose up in him. It hadsounded like a challenge, though. “No. I’m no longer a member of the Catholic Church, as it happens. I attend a non-denominational church downtown. I find they’re more accepting.”
Andras’ eyebrow raised slightly. “Have a lot to accept, do you?”
Don’s lips tightened. “I’m gay.”
There was a definite smile, now. “Oh? I’m guessing you’re never short of a date on Saturday night.” Andras pulled out the chair on his side of the desk and sat down unbidden. “You know I used to think you were an angel? After we left Clarkson, I got books on all that stuff. Used to hide them under the bed so Mom wouldn’t see. You looked just like the pictures of the angels—all blond hair and pretty face, the light of God shining in those heavenly blue eyes of yours.”