by Anne Key
“I don’t know what to do! I don’t know how to do all this! Momma would be so mad at me….” God, she needed someone to help her, to tell her how to do this.
“You’re wrong, Sammy. Your momma would be so proud of you. You’ve been doing so well. You have great friends, you have Eli…. I think she’d be thrilled you are living somewhere that you can just be you and people are accepted for who they are. She couldn’t have that where she was, and especially not in her career.”
“I swear to God, if you tell me Momma was gay too, I’m going to hang myself in the bathroom. I have had enough. I am tired, Daddy. I want things to be the truth.”
“Well, if you want the truth, then I guess I better start rounding up your belts. Also, you should know that the showerhead probably won’t hold your weight. It’s been there at least since the eighties.”
“The girl at my school that did it used her shoelaces and the doorknob. Wait. Momma too?”
“Okay, well sneakers are now banned in this house.” Daddy nodded, and she shook her head. “She and your Aunt Fran—”
“No.” This wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all. “What’s wrong with me, Daddy? Everyone lies to me, and then I feel like everyone thinks I’m stupid.” God, everyone on earth was gay or trans or something but her, and she liked a guy that had been born a girl.
Why didn’t you tell me, Momma? Why didn’t someone say? I love Aunt Franny! I love you! I wanted you to be happy and…. Is this why you died? Did it break your heart?
Oh God. Oh God, she couldn’t breathe. Oh God. Momma, help me.
“Hey. Hey, relax.” Daddy held her, rocked her so careful, until she remembered how to breathe again. Then he shifted and was trying to catch her eye. “Let’s back up, Sammy. Do you think Eli was lying to you? Do you feel lied to?”
“I think he was scared, but he knew he was lying. He even apologized for not telling me sooner.”
“So, you’re upset that he lied. That’s fair. So, you have to talk to him about that, tell him how you feel, decide if you want to forgive him. That’s simple, right? Then you can at least be friends. But what about the rest of it? It doesn’t make sense to you that he was born a girl but feels like and wants to be a boy? That he is a boy? Does it really have to make sense, if it’s the truth? I mean, do you have to get it, or just accept it?”
“I guess I just have to accept it.” It didn’t matter what she felt, one way or the other—not about Daddy, not about Momma, and not about Eli. “I just need to do my homework and whatever. It’s been a long day.”
“Now, hang on. I see what you’re doing there. You say ‘homework’ and you think that’s going to make your daddy leave you alone, right? Well, okay. I hear you, but I have one more thing to say. Or two. It might be two.”
Daddy stood up and put a little space between them. “If you’re friends with Eli, and you accept him for who he is, then the only thing left is to figure out how you feel about him. I can’t help there, but I’ll support you. Okay? I’m in your corner, sweetheart.”
He stepped toward the door. “And you’re going to those tryouts tomorrow. If it’s horrible, I will take full responsibility. Oh wait—third thing. I love you.” Daddy left, closing the door quietly behind him.
She shook her head and just kicked off her shoes and buried herself in her covers. She wasn’t going anywhere. She was going to sleep for days, and there wasn’t anything anyone could do about it.
If there was a God, she’d have a terrible fever in the morning and it wouldn’t matter, one way or the other.
Chapter 17
SAMMY DIDN’T go to the tryouts. She didn’t get out of bed—not Monday and not Tuesday, either. She slept.
She didn’t know what to do, and it felt like something in her brain, something deep and primal and basic, had broken, letting her escape, in dreams, from all the fear and worry and panic. She stripped off her jeans and sweater at some point and found something soft to wear. Once or twice she rolled over and found a bottle of Dr Pepper waiting there, but that was all she did for two days.
She slept. Hard.
But at some point, after dark on Tuesday night—at least, she thought it was still Tuesday—Sammy heard voices. At first they were distant, like down in the front room or something, but then they got closer, coming down the hall. Sammy pulled the comforter over her head. She really wasn’t up for visitors.
“I made up the spare room, end of the hall, there. Sorry about the mess. I’m still working on that room. I thought eventually I’d give it to Sammy because it’s got its own bathroom and everything. Don’t use it, though. It’s gross. Use Sammy’s out here in the hall.”
“Don’t you worry, I’ll be comfortable enough. Thank you, Seth.”
“I’ll give you some time to get settled. Are you hungry?”
“No, thank you. I grabbed a salad before the cab ride.”
“Wine?”
“Now that would be nice.”
“Back in a bit.”
She heard a rap on her door and then the light from the hallway filled the room. “Oh girl, what are you doing? You’re fixin’ to make yourself sick.”
She sat up, eyes wide. “Aunt Franny.”
She couldn’t believe it, but the smell was right, the hug was right, the low laugh that was always present when Frances saw her was right.
“Your daddy tells me you’ve been in this bed for two days.” She reached past Sammy, still hugging her, and flipped on the little lamp on the nightstand.
“I’m sick.”
“You’re full of shit.”
“Aunt Franny!” Sammy stared, taking Frances in. She looked tired, super skinny, and her dark hair was all gray at the temples, making her look old—like maybe even fifty. “You need to do your roots.”
“Okay, Jennifer Junior.”
Sammy rolled her eyes, but hearing Aunt Franny call her her momma’s name felt good.
Aunt Franny got up and pulled the comforter off Sammy’s bed, giving it a shake. “I did not fly up here to talk about my roots. And it sure as hell wasn’t for the weather. Get up.”
“I’m tired.”
“Yes. That’s what I hear. Go shower, put on something clean, and please brush your teeth.”
“I don’t want….”
“Does it sound like I give two shits about what you want, right now? Get your ass moving, and don’t sass me. I don’t know what they’re teaching you up here, but I am still your Aunt Franny. Move, young lady. Now!”
“God.” She did, though. She stomped into the bathroom and got in the shower, the hot water stinging but feeling good. She got dressed in her favorite schlubby clothes and her pink monster slippers and went downstairs.
“I can’t get you out of bed for two days, but Franny shows up, and half an hour later you’re up and showered showing your pretty face.” Daddy gave her a hug. “I’m doing something wrong.”
“You’re new at this. I was around at the beginning.” Franny sat on the sofa with a wineglass and a serious expression on her face. “Come here and sit, child. We’re fixin’ to have a prayer meeting.”
“No. No, you don’t get to yell at me. I haven’t been mean; I haven’t been a bitch or anything. You lied to me my whole life. You don’t get to yell at me ever again.”
Franny snorted. “Shit, I love you. I’ll fuss at you when you need it. It’s my job. Sit down.”
Sammy looked to Daddy, who shrugged. “She did fly all the way out to see you, sweetheart.”
“I did. Jesus, Seth, she’s not a fragile violet. Samantha Danielle Moore, sit your ass down, please.”
She sighed and sat, curling up in her daddy’s recliner. “Sitting.”
“I’m impressed.”
God, Franny could make her laugh, even when she didn’t want to.
Daddy picked up his wine. He didn’t look much better than Aunt Franny if she were honest. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, and his hair was kind of everywhere. “Sammy is very upset with all of u
s—you, me, Jennifer, her boyfriend Eli—because she feels we’ve been lying to her for a long time. Which, to be fair, we kind of have.”
“People lie, and I’ll be honest, you lie to the people you love the most because they’re the ones you want to still love you.”
“You’re not supposed to…,” Sammy started, and Aunt Franny shook her head.
“That doesn’t matter, and we both know it. Your momma lied to you because she wanted you to have a perfect life like she didn’t, and look where it landed us. I didn’t get to see her except for work and when you spent the night at Lacey’s. I had to pretend like you weren’t mine to raise as my own, had to watch you leave and act like it didn’t matter. She worked herself into an early grave, and you? Well, Sammy-girl? You got fucked.”
“I didn’t ask….” Surely, all this wasn’t her fault.
“No. No, you didn’t. You’re a kid, and kids get steamrolled by all the weight of what their folks didn’t get growing up. Your momma didn’t have normal, so she was going to make sure you had crazy normal that was all built on lies. Now, you have to deal with that. Just like I have to deal with the fact that I contributed to that, and so does your daddy.”
Sammy sat there, her teeth in her mouth. “That’s not fair.”
“No, ma’am.” No apologies, nothing but no ma’am.
Sometimes, she hated Franny a little. Franny, who had always been there. Franny, who’d loved her momma. God. Poor Aunt Franny. She lost Momma and her at the same time and couldn’t tell anyone at all.
“Well, that was more truth than even I needed, Franny. Shit.” Daddy cleared his throat. “Thing is, Sammy, your mom did everything she knew how to do to make sure you were happy. And I know you were. But that came at a cost to her. As I am learning, every single day, parents just do that stuff for their kids. She wouldn’t regret it, and we don’t, either. She was your mom; we respected that. But here, and now? I don’t have to pay that kind of price for you to be happy. Things are different here. Expectations are different.”
“I don’t understand. I don’t get it. I’m just trying to be good. I’m just trying so hard, and it doesn’t matter!”
“So, stop trying so hard.”
She stared at Franny like she’d grown a second head. “What?”
“You heard me. You lost your momma, your entire family came out, you’re dating a trans kid, and you moved to Yankeeland—no offense, Seth. You’re allowed to be a little psycho. It’s easier if you let it out in little spurts, though, rather than saving it for a full-blown mental breakdown.”
“Does it ever stop hurting?” she whispered, praying for yes, her heart breaking when Aunt Franny shook her head no.
“Nope. You forget, and then it comes back and surprises you, but no. It’ll hurt forever. That’s life. But soon you’ll remember the good parts, too, and laugh. That’s life too.”
“You promise?”
“I swear to God.”
“It’s true.” Daddy looked at Aunt Franny. “Like did she ever tell you about that one time in college when we’d been out late studying and we’d also been sharing this flask of—god, I don’t even remember what it was—but we came across a kid we knew on our way back to the dorms—”
“Going at it in the bushes with some girl.”
“And we stole his pants?”
“You ran them up the flagpole.”
“Hell, no! She did.” Daddy laughed. “Oh my god I spent the next month worrying someone had seen us, and we’d be thrown out.”
“Not my momma.” She couldn’t imagine, but she had to smile, if for no other reason than Daddy and Franny were laughing. “My momma never did anything weird. Ever.”
“Oh, one day, when you’re older, I have stories.” Franny winked. “Seriously, you’re a lot like her—trying to balance what you’re supposed to feel with what you actually do. Like with your boy….”
Sammy nodded, wishing Daddy would just go away. Daddy was a boy. He wouldn’t understand, but Aunt Franny might, and even if she didn’t, it wouldn’t be so hard to talk about.
Daddy nodded. “He’s a nice kid.” Aunt Franny was giving him a look. “Polite and—”
“Seth.”
“What?” Daddy looked over at Sammy and then back at Aunt Franny. “Oh! Right. Wow. Look at that time. I better get some sleep before I go to work tomorrow.” He got up.
“I love you, Daddy.” Even if he was a little clueless.
“I love you too, Sammy.” Daddy gave her a quick peck on the forehead. “If you need anything, Franny, I’m sure Sammy can find it for you. Night, ladies.” He practically jogged up the stairs.
“Your daddy is such a boy.” Aunt Franny smiled and patted the couch. “Sit closer. Tell me about Eli.”
“I like him a lot,” she whispered, then moved to the sofa, cuddling in to Franny and sighing softly. “I’m so confused and scared, Auntie. I don’t know how to like a boy like Eli.”
“It had to be a shock and a half, but I bet the poor kid was terrified you’d have kittens.”
“I think so? Maybe? He seemed pretty calm, like it was just this thing, la la la.”
“Well, he knew he was doing the right thing in telling you.”
“I guess. I don’t know how to be his girlfriend, though.” She grabbed Franny’s square, solid hand and held on tight. “I mean, what about… what about sex? What about if I really fall in love and want to marry him one day? What about babies then? What if people find out?”
“I know that I’m supposed to be all, ‘don’t worry about getting married one day,’ but that would be hollering down a dry well, so… I have to tell you, I’ve never had sex with a trans man, but I’ve had sex with women and—”
“But would I be gay, then?” she interrupted. God, she didn’t want to hear about Aunt Franny talking about strap-ons and stuff. She might die. Literally. Stroke out. “I mean, I don’t think I’m a lesbian.” She didn’t think so. She didn’t want to have to worry about something she’d never had to worry about before.
“Honey, just because his parts are shaped like a girl’s, that doesn’t mean his soul is. You don’t fall in love with a penis, you fall in love with a man.”
And Eli looked like a man—or a boy, anyway. Acted like one. Treated her like he was one.
Sammy’s phone buzzed in her pocket, and she squinted across the room to see the time. It was after midnight. Who would be texting her after midnight? She didn’t want to be rude and look at her phone now, but what if it was Lacey, and something awful was going on? She’d already ignored a crapton of emails.
“Oh, go ahead and look. I want another glass of wine, anyway.” Aunt Franny got up and headed for the kitchen.
“Sorry, but what if—”
miss u
Or, it could be Eli.
I miss u. So much. Because she did. Eli was good to her, and he was funny and made her feel special. I’ve been in bed til just now. Phone off and everything.
Oh wow. Sorry ur sick. Oh no! Did u miss ur audition?
yeah. :( And God knew Daddy was probably mad, but she just couldn’t. She couldn’t cope. My aunt flew in from Texas 2nite just to see me
Aunt Franny? From home? That’s cool. Can I come see you after school tomorrow? I could bring you your homework and stuff.
Please? I’d love that.
me 2. Sleep well.
Aunt Franny sat back down on the couch. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. It was Eli. I sorta shut down Sunday afternoon. It was hard.”
“I can only imagine. I remember when I came out to my best friend in high school. I was petrified.”
“Yeah? Was it bad?”
“It was hard. We didn’t stay friends, I’m afraid, but not because of me. She had drug problems. When your momma told her people about you, they turned their back on her. She never got to tell them about me.”
Sammy couldn’t imagine—either telling someone they weren’t yours anymore because of a baby or not being able to tel
l anyone about your… girlfriend? “I’m sorry. That had to hurt your feelings.”
“What hurts now is knowing we made a mistake in not talking to you. Your momma was scared of everything, and you learned to be like that from her. One day, I hope it just won’t be a thing, who people love and who they are. Your daddy assures me that’s why he lives in this godforsaken cold.”
“So far, it’s not so bad. I get to wear cute sweaters. Eli says it gets worse, though.”
“So, Eli’s been passing at school so far?”
“Yeah. He says the teachers know, and our friend, Erik, knows.” She chewed her bottom lip, making it hurt. “What do I do, Auntie? If I get into cheer squad, and the girls find out?”
“What if they do?” Franny asked.
“Well, they might be mean.” And right now, sitting in the living room with Franny, that sounded so whiny, so petty and selfish, and she didn’t want to be that girl.
“So, you stand your ground, look those bitches in the eye, and stand up for what’s right. Your momma didn’t raise you to be a coward.”
“But—”
“What would you tell those girls if they didn’t like your hair? Would you change it to make them like it better, or keep it the way you like it?”
“Can I tell you something?”
“You can tell me anything.”
Sammy sighed, trying to say what she meant in her heart. “I think, back home, I would have changed it. I wanted to do things right and be popular and have everybody like me. Here, I’m different from everybody, and my friends like me anyway, so I don’t want to. Is that weird?”
“No. That’s growing up.”
Sammy leaned on her. “Growing up is hard.”
“That’s how I remember it. But hard isn’t an excuse not to do something—you’ve done enough cheer to know that.” Aunt Franny sipped her wine and put her arm around Sammy’s shoulders. “Okay. If those mean girls don’t get to tell you how to wear your hair, then they don’t get to tell you who you’re allowed to be friends with, or who to date, what to eat, what music to listen to, or anything else. If you think about it, it’s actually easy. The pressure’s off to fit in. You don’t have to try at all.”
