The Crow of Connemara by Stephen Leigh

sec?” Tommy led Colin away from the crowd, into the shade of the tree where he’d seen the crows.
    â€œAre you thinking of heading back to Seattle soon?” Tommy asked him. “I know you have that dissertation to write . . .”
    Colin lifted his hand, stopping Tommy in mid-sentence. “Jen hasn’t said anything to you?”
    Tommy looked puzzled, shaking his head. “No. Why?”
    Colin took a breath, then launched into what he’d told Jen: leaving school, how he wanted to return to his musical career, how he planned to go to Ireland. Talking to Tommy, who looked so much like their father, was like talking to a younger version of his father, one who, to his credit, listened patiently rather than angrily.
    â€œOkay,” Tommy said when Colin finished. “That’s absolutely not what I expected to hear. You really want to go to Ireland?”
    â€œYeah. As soon as I can. I need to get a visa first, so I can stay there for a few years. But as soon as that happens . . .”
    Tommy nodded. “I won’t try to talk you out of it, Colin. I know you and Dad . . . well, I know what Dad thought, but I also know that sometimes you have to follow your own heart, no matter what others think. I want to make you an offer, though. An alternative, if you like.”
    That sounded more like their father. Colin frowned. “Yeah, what’s that?”
    â€œStay here in Chicago—for the rest of the year, anyway. Help me. Be part of my campaign staff. I’m going to need all the support I can get.”
    Colin was shaking his head as soon as he heard “campaign staff.”
    â€œWhat are you talking about? You don’t need my help, and that’s not the kind of job that I’m suited for anyway. Besides, Harris says you’re a shoo-in.”
    Tommy shook his head. “That’s what Carl wants everyone to believe, and it’s what he wants to believe himself. But even he’s worried about a candidate who’s single and in his mid-30s.”
    â€œOkay, so you’re not married. So what?”
    â€œThings have changed a lot over the years, and are continuing to change, but how many politicians do you know who are openly gay?”
    Colin blinked, processing what Tommy had just said. “Gay? You mean...?”
    Tommy nodded. “Yeah. That’s what I mean. I guess we both had things we weren’t saying to each other. Come on, Colin; you mean you never suspected that? Haven’t you ever wondered why I was never dating anyone, why I never brought anyone home for Sunday dinners?”
    â€œIn high school and college, you did. I distinctly remember a couple girls.”
    â€œYeah. I did back then. First because I was in denial, then because I was using a few friends as beards so no one else, especially Mom and Dad, would suspect. But since then . . . well, if I haven’t been open about it, I also haven’t exactly been keeping it a secret.”
    â€œWow.” Colin didn’t know what to say. All the air had gone from his lungs. As Tommy watched him, he took a breath, starting to speak, then shaking his head. “Mom and Dad? Jen? Do they . . .”
    Tommy shrugged. “With Mom and Dad, it’s always been ‘don’t ask, don’t tell.’ They both stopped interrogating me about whether I was seeing anyone four or five years ago—that way they didn’t have to be confronted with the truth, and I didn’t have to lie. I think we were all happier that way. Jen knows; I think she suspected it even before I did, or before I was willing to admit it. Aunt Patty and Rebecca, too, of course—I told them a while ago. I’d’ve told you, but you had your own issues with Mom and Dad and were heading off to Seattle, and afterward it didn’t seem like something to say in a phone call. And since you’ve come back . . .” He