“I’m glad you’ll have company.”
Kelly turned away from Alice and Daisy. “I’m not so sure it’s the company I’ll enjoy,” she said as she walked, the dogs falling into step beside her. “It will just be nice to be someplace where no one knows me. That’s the only way I can start again.”
CHAPTER 50
Ellie’s eyes were swollen when she arrived at High Tide just after one. This told Joan and Alice that Ellie had, as promised, told the Kilcullen family the night before—and that it hadn’t, as she had anticipated, gone well. As soon as Ellie sat down, Joan reached across the table and squeezed her hand. Ellie dabbed at her eyes with a used tissue she took from the pocket of her jeans. “I’ve cried all night,” she said. “I didn’t think I had any left.”
“What can you tell us?” asked Joan.
“Let’s see,” said Ellie, slipping the white cloth napkin from underneath her fork and knife and spreading it over her lap. “My mother started crying, something she hasn’t done since her mother died fourteen years ago. My father started swearing, something he does only when extremely agitated or upset. And my brothers started lecturing me on the sin of homosexuality, insisting I repent.”
“Oh God,” said Alice. “Was Chris with you?”
Ellie smiled briefly. “Yes—but he looked a bit shell-shocked and didn’t talk much until we were back in the car. We were there only an hour, but it seemed much longer. They gave me the full benefit of their Catholic school educations, beginning with the Garden of Eden and ending with the one-man-one-woman argument.”
“It was as you expected,” said Joan.
Ellie took a sip from her water glass. “Worse, I think. While I suspected it was going to be a difficult conversation, I was still hopeful that because they love me they would support me.” Ellie shook her head. “They weren’t even able to forgive me last night.”
“Maybe that’s coming,” said Alice. “You know how it can be when you get unexpected news. Sometimes it takes a while for it to sink in.”
“Maybe,” said Ellie. “But my father wouldn’t even hug me when we left.”
Joan said, “Oh boy.”
“Yes,” said Ellie. “That was the most hurtful part of the evening.” She used her napkin to dry her eyes. “But hey, I want to hear about your first day of class on Monday. You e-mailed us that it went well, but I need the details.”
Joan held her hands, palms out, up in front of her chest. “It was incredible,” she said. “And I do want to tell you all about it. But I want to talk about you today.”
“I agree,” said Alice.
Ellie inhaled deeply and sat back in her chair. “I don’t know what to tell you. It was the classic ‘homosexuality is a sin’ argument. The Pope may be softening, but my parents and my brothers are definitely not.”
“What do they propose you do?” asked Joan.
“Fight it. They want me to fight it. And if I can’t beat it—their words—then I should continue to hide it. They think a Christian counselor can help.”
“So they think that someone can talk you out of being a lesbian?” asked Joan.
“Yes,” said Ellie. “The right counselor will straighten me out, according to my father. I don’t know how to reason with this personality type. He’s like that clerk in Kentucky who refused to marry same sex couples, in the name of God. What I want to ask Kim Davis, and everyone just like her, is this: What are the first two commandments? If she’s the Christian she professes to be, she knows that the answer to that question is that we should love God, number one, and that we should love our neighbors as ourselves, number two. As ourselves, period. If my dad, mom, and brothers are Christians, then they should love me, no matter who I am.”
“Amen to that, sister,” said Joan.
“And when it comes to a discussion about genetics, my father would rather close his eyes and plug his ears with his index fingers than listen to my thoughts about being born this way. He thinks it’s a choice—a perverted, dirty, unnatural choice.”
“Who would choose it?” asked Alice. “Did you hit him with that argument? Who would choose societal ostracism, criticism, mockery, verbal and physical attack? Who chooses this?”
Joan looked at Alice. “Someone’s been doing her homework.”
“I have been doing some research online,” said Alice. “I think I sometimes don’t understand things that I don’t have enough information about. Ellie, if I ever gave you the impression that I didn’t support you, I’m sorry. Linda, too, has shed some light on the topic for me. This year, there is a young woman on their dormitory floor who used to be a man.”
“Ellie isn’t transgender, Alice,” said Joan. “She’s gay. Different issue altogether.”
“I know that,” said Alice. “I’ve been exploring all kinds of sexuality issues. It’s fascinating actually.”
Ellie looked at Alice, wondering if she was joking. Seeing Alice was not, Ellie said, “What’s fascinating to you?” The server took their orders and refilled their water glasses. Ellie waited until he was gone before she continued her thought. “What have you discovered, Alice?”
“The biggest surprise to me is that sexuality is not black and white the way I thought it was. It’s more of a spectrum. So, there are hetero people, of course, who are attracted to other hetero people—but those attractions run the gamut from urgent to mild. We all know those men who seek female companionship for just one reason. But then there are the men who treat women as equals, whose testosterone levels aren’t through the roof, who think about sex every fifteen minutes instead of every fifteen seconds.” Joan smiled at her friend. “It’s a serious issue,” said Alice. “If a couple’s sex drives and expectations around sexual relations aren’t aligned, it can be a battle. But, I stray from the point I was trying to make—and that is this: There are straight people, and bisexual people, and transgender people, and people who fall into other categories that have not yet been named. And who’s to say what’s normal? Who’s to say what is right and what is wrong?”
Ellie let out a sigh. “I needed you at my parents’ house last night.”
“I would have come,” said Alice.
“And if I had known the depth of your knowledge, I would have asked you,” said Ellie. “You seem to understand what my parents will never understand. I tried the born-this-way argument because I thought they might be able to digest that. They might be able to equate homosexuality with race or gender. What I would love to tell them someday, Alice, is what you pointed out. That it really doesn’t matter. That we can love whomever we are attracted to. That there is no normal. That there is no right or wrong. That there’s only one thing that matters, and that is love.”
“Wow,” said Joan.
“So what do we do now?” asked Alice. “Now that last night has happened.”
Ellie slowly shook her head back and forth. “I don’t know,” she said. “They have the information. I guess we wait until they process it. Either they will accept me as I am, or they won’t. I’m not going back now. I’m out. If my family wants to cut me out of their lives, well, it’s been nice knowing them.”
“Is Chris doing okay?” asked Joan.
“He is better,” said Ellie. “He continues to be sad about separating after so many years together, but he is no longer angry. I think he is trying to focus on our friendship, on the fact that we will still have each other—only in a different way. I think he realizes that I am sad, too.”
“What about the boys?” asked Alice. “How are they doing? Have you started deciding things like who they will live with when they are home?”
“They, like your children, will increasingly be living away from home,” said Ellie. “But when they are in town, for a weekend or for the holidays, there will be a place for them at both houses—and we will get together as a family. There will be some weird, awkward moments, but I’m not sure those moments will be any more uncomfortable than the weird, awkward moments in a heterosexual life.”
“You are in
credibly strong, Ellie,” said Joan, stifling her rising emotion so that Ellie would not need to comfort her. “And I am tremendously proud to be your friend.”
“And I am so, so glad to have both of you as my friends,” said Ellie. “At times, I feel closer to you than I do to my family, especially right now.”
Joan added, “Your mother, father, and brothers? They will come around.”
Ellie shrugged. “I hope so,” she said. “But today, it’s not my problem; it’s theirs.”
CHAPTER 51
One of the requirements of adjunct instructors at Nutmeg Community College, outside of teaching class and correcting tests and homework assignments, was holding office hours. Since she worked part time, Joan didn’t have a designated office. Instead, for two hours after her Thursday morning class, Joan parked herself and her belongings in one of the empty offices down the hallway from her classroom. The offices were meant to be used by the adjuncts, but Joan hadn’t seen anyone there other than her students since school had started three weeks ago. It was a quiet space.
Joan hadn’t been settled more than ten minutes when she heard the door open at the end of the short hallway. “Miss Howard?”
“I’m down here,” Joan called.
A few seconds later, Devon Johnson plopped himself down in the chair next to Joan’s desk. “Hey, Devon,” said Joan, pleased with herself for knowing his name, for memorizing the names of her forty-eight students in two weeks. “How are you?”
“I’m okay, Miss Howard,” he said. “But I’m having a hard time with the homework you assigned on Tuesday.”
“Take it out,” said Joan. “Let’s have a look together.”
When Devon bent over to reach into his backpack, Joan saw a handgun in the waistline of his jeans. When he righted himself, notebook in hand, his baggy sweatshirt fell back into position, concealing the gun. Devon set the notebook down on the desk and pulled his chair closer to Joan so that they could look at his work together. “I’m not sure how to go about answering number six,” he said. “I think I have it set up right, but I keep getting the wrong answer.”
Joan sat back in her chair, putting more space between the two of them. “Before we get started,” she said, “I have to tell you that I saw your gun—and it makes me uncomfortable.”
Devon squinted his eyes, like he did in class sometimes when he was trying to remember something. And then he looked down at his side, lifted his sweatshirt, and touched the gun. “This gun, Miss Howard?” Joan nodded her head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so used to carrying it, I forget I have it.”
“Can I ask why you carry it?”
“You can ask me,” he said. “But a smart lady like you ought to know the answer.”
“For protection,” said Joan. “You carry it for protection.”
“Yes, I do.”
“What are you protecting yourself from?”
Devon sat back in his chair, sliding his hands between his closed thighs. “Let’s play a guessing game, like you do with us in class,” he said. “I’m guessing you live in Southwood or Harbortown or Long-bay. Am I right?”
“I live in Southwood.”
“I’ve been to Southwood once or twice—with all the big houses, fancy shops, and expensive restaurants. I live in Stannich—with all the abandoned mills, low-income housing, and closed storefronts.” Joan lowered her gaze from Devon’s eyes to her desk for a moment, feeling suddenly foolish for asking about his gun, before returning her attention and her eyes to his face. “I carry this gun,” said Devon, “so that, on my way from my fifteen-year-old, rusted out car that I park on the street because I have no heated, automatic door opener garage, to the small apartment I live in with my mother, my girlfriend, my daughter, and my four younger brothers, I will have an option when the drug addict on the corner wants to relieve me of the cash I get paid under the table working from two until eight in the morning as a custodian at the Starry Night Club.”
“I’m sorry . . .” Joan began.
Devon held up his hands. “Don’t be sorry,” he said. “Just don’t make assumptions. Number one, I have a constitutional right to carry this gun. And number two, the people who carry guns are not always the bad guys.”
“I know,” said Joan. “You make a very good argument for carrying a gun.”
“That’s because I’ve been asked before by people like you.”
“Who’s making assumptions now?” asked Joan.
Devon grinned at her. “You got me there, Miss Howard.”
They looked at each other for another moment, and then Joan said, “Let’s get back to the reason you’re here. The problem you are having trouble with is actually easier than it seems. You just have to turn your thinking around.”
“Kind of like we just did?”
Joan smiled at him. “Yes, Devon—just like we just did.”
OCTOBER
CHAPTER 52
“Any of your other students schooling you?” asked Alice, a smile on her face.
Joan eased a forkful of coleslaw into her mouth. “All of them,” she said, chewing. “All of them. Here’s another story.” And she told Ellie and Alice about the young woman in her late twenties who wore four-inch heels and skintight clothing to school. “Even though Devon told me to be careful about my assumptions, I continue to make them. I am trying to become more aware of when I do this, but I am nowhere close to where I want to be. So, getting back to my student—I assumed this young woman dressed this way because she needed a bunch of male attention, that she questioned her physical, emotional, and intellectual worth, and that she was one of the weaker members of our gender rather than one of the stronger.”
“Oh, this is going to be good,” said Alice.
“Turns out she used to weigh almost three hundred pounds. She lost close to two hundred of them by having extensive weight loss surgery. And she is now very proud of her new body, which she shows off by wearing tight clothing and towering footwear. She is also, by the way, the most ardent feminist in both of my classes, as well as my most perceptive student.”
“Nice,” said Ellie. “I love stories like that.”
“Yeah, it turns out I’m not as smart as I thought I was,” said Joan.
“I’m not so sure about that,” said Ellie.
“At some things, I’m clueless,” said Joan.
“It’s so nice to hear you admit that,” said Alice. Joan winked at her friend. Alice reached for her water glass and then turned her attention and her face to Ellie. “How are you doing, El? Anything new with your family?”
“You mean, speaking of support? No,” she said, “not a word.”
“Your parents still haven’t spoken to you?” asked Joan.
“Nope,” said Ellie. “They’re too busy bending the ear of the priest at St. Mary’s by the Sea.”
“How do you know that?” asked Alice.
“Because Father Matthew called this morning and told me how worried they are about me,” said Ellie. “He wants me to come in for counseling.”
“What did you tell him?” asked Joan.
“I told him I thought it was my parents and brothers who needed the counseling,” said Ellie. “But I said, if he is willing to counsel me in the presence of my new Episcopal priest, then I would certainly think about it. He told me he’d get back to me, but I don’t anticipate hearing from him anytime soon.”
“You’re going to the Episcopal church now?” asked Alice.
“Yes. It’s Diana’s church—and they not only don’t believe in burning homosexuals at the stake, they happily marry gay couples.”
“Imagine that,” said Joan, arms crossed across her chest in an expression of satisfaction rather than confrontation. “How is Diana?”
“She’s good,” said Ellie, taking a bite of her BLT. “We don’t know where this is going, but we’re trying to figure it out.”
“Do you want to be with her, El?” asked Alice.
“That’s the question, isn’t it? In some w
ays, I can’t believe I’m even thinking about getting into a relationship with someone when I am in the middle of drastically changing one that lasted more than a quarter of a century. And in other ways, it seems completely natural, like this relationship is what I’ve been looking for my whole life.”
“How does she feel?” asked Joan.
“She’s cautious,” said Ellie. “And I like that about her. She has been where I am now, so she knows that I’m going to have trouble committing to anything for a while. Both of us know our relationship has the potential to be a serious one. We are not looking for temporary satisfaction.”
“No quick roll in the hay?” asked Joan, smiling.
Alice shuddered. “I know I shouldn’t say this,” she said. “But I don’t like to picture two women having sex.”
“Oh,” said Ellie. “You’d rather picture your daughter, Linda, screwing the guy from her psych class in her twin bed in her dorm room?”
Joan laughed out loud.
“You’re right,” said Alice. “I guess I don’t like to picture anyone having sex.”
“Yeah, well, that’s because the carnal knowledge shared by two people is nobody’s business but their own, as you so eloquently pointed out, Alice,” said Ellie. “I honestly don’t understand why people get so upset about it. How does my being a lesbian have anything to do with my father’s or mother’s or brothers’ lives? How do my actions affect theirs? And what about the second commandment is confusing to people? My family goes to church every Sunday, where the first and second commandments are carved into the stone walls that support the building. Carved into the stone! This is not a subtle set of mandates. Are they ignorant, or are they hypocrites?”
“It’s easy for people to love a neighbor who’s just like them,” said Joan. “It’s a very different story when the neighbor has a different skin color or subscribes to an alternative lifestyle.”
Ellie nodded her head at Joan’s remark. “My mother loves to feed the poor at the soup kitchen,” she said. “But she’d never dream of inviting any one of them to her home for a meal.”
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