Chapter 43 #2
Mary scoffed and then looked away from Maggie and towards Diana, “Well I don’t expect you of all people to do anything, probably your whole lifestyle dragged these girls into this—”
“Be very careful what you say next.” Diana’s voice was low and it left no room for games.
Maggie watched Mary swallow before she said, “Well, I—”
“I think we best get home, have a sleep, and talk about this when we have had a chance to process,” Evan McAvoy said, rising from the table. He moved towards Hanna and embraced her, whispering something in her ear that Maggie was relieved to see made her smile slightly.
“You really have no issue with this?” Mary said, glaring at Diana.
“In this economy? A three-income household sounds like a good idea,” Diana said back, and she winked at Hanna.
Mary sputtered, “Of course you haven’t changed since high school.”
“Mom?” Maya’s voice was quiet and unsure, and it was the latter piece that killed Maggie.
She never wanted her baby to be unsure about where they stood, but on the other hand, Maggie was still sitting there reeling.
She and Maya were still at the table. Lily had taken Hanna to the infamous treehouse that the girls seemed to spend so much time in, and Mary and Evan had long left the dinner.
After a very meaningful look, Diana had walked off back to the house.
“Mom?” Maya said again.
“Hey bug,” Maggie said, using an old nickname to let her know they were okay, that she would never pull what Mary had pulled.
“Mom? So, are we, is this ok?” Maya said tentatively. Maggie looked at her finally.
“I uh, didn’t know, didn’t realize,” she said stupidly, trying to piece together a cohesive thought. Her baby needed her too.
“Didn’t know what? That I also date women? I told you I am pan,” Maya said incredulously. And rightfully so, Maggie thought.
And then Maggie felt the worst thing fall from her mouth.
“I guess, well, there were just boys in high school.” She hadn’t meant to say it, it was a thought that had slipped in when she shamefully remembered her relief every time Maya said pan and not gay.
Maggie was gay, always had been, had been born that way.
She also knew from her talks with Lauren that she was demisexual, which had explained so much to her, but that was beside the point.
The point at hand now was that her daughter was pan and was dating not one but two women.
“Well I am pan, so I am attracted to people,” Maya said, as if explaining the concept to a five year old. “That includes all genders, though admittedly, there are challenges with cis men.” Maggie could tell the last bit was an attempt at a joke.
Maggie wished she had laughed, but as if she couldn’t stop herself she said, “Is that it? You can’t find a good guy to date?”
“What?” Maya said, clearly shocked and to Maggie’s horror, disappointed.
Maggie was horrified because she too was disappointed in herself.
It was like all of her fears and hangups were coming out of her subconscious.
She had to make sure this was all Maya and not something else.
If this was all Maya, she would support and love her daughter through it.
But if it were something she’d done, then she couldn’t help but feel afraid for her daughter.
“Mom, I am not into women because I can’t find a ‘good man’. I am not even into Lily and Hanna because they’re women. Like I said, I’m into them because they are them.”
“I see,” Maggie said, processing. So Maya was close to or the same thing as Diana? Diana didn’t really dig labels, mainly because they’d grown up without one for her. But still Maggie needed to make sure. “Is this, did I do this to you?”
“Mom, what are you talking about?” Maya asked.
Maggie could hear the hurt and confusion in her voice.
And as they talked, Maggie hated herself for the reassurance she needed from Maya that this was all her, there was nothing wrong, just like she had to learn that being in love with Diana was all her, and there was nothing wrong.
Besides, Maya was right, all of these things had always existed; it was the vocabulary that was slow to catch up. The echoes of Mary McAvoy still floated around in her, sticking to the parts of her that were old and embedded, the parts of her she had to fight against everyday.
“I just don’t want life to be any harder for you than it has to be. People won’t understand…I don’t even know if I understand,” Maggie finally said, desperate for Maya to understand where she was coming from.
“Mom, I am a Black, queer woman in a country that loves to remind me it doesn’t care. Shouldn’t I be holding onto all the love and positivity I can? Life is too short not to. I am in love, and I am loved, really loved, how is that something to be worried about?”
Maya’s words cut into Maggie and she felt her eyes sting. Her wise and brave Maya. How had she raised such a woman?
“I just want you to be okay,” Maggie said, smiling at her daughter with pride.
“I will be, okay? I trust them, and I have you and Dad, right?”
Maggie warmed at that, seeing how sure and steady Maya was. Her daughter was loved. Her daughter would be okay.
“Yeah bug, of course you got us, we love you, I love you. I just need to process and adjust, okay?”
They finished their conversation laughing and crying with Maggie proclaiming to her daughter, “I want to be you when I grow up.” Maya laughed some more, but Maggie meant it with her whole heart.