Chapter Four #2
“I’ll see you at lunch,” I blurt. “Good job!” I offer him a thumbs-up like I’m his middle school teacher. What the hell? Am I going to give him a gold star sticker next?
It’s a gorgeous day, so we walk down to the Merry Mermaid for a lobster roll and some homemade lemonade.
“I missed this,” Kayden says as he stops midway and tilts his head toward the sky.
His eyes are closed, his eyelashes resting against his sun-kissed skin.
We’re nearing 85 degrees, but luckily there’s a cool breeze blowing in from the ocean.
A gush of wind plays with Kayden’s hair, and I look away as I mumble, “C’mon, or they’re gonna sell out. ”
Kayden shakes himself, then smiles at me. “How come Cynthia never makes enough? She could sell double what she does if she only made more rolls.”
“Who knows? Maybe she likes being able to shout, ‘Sold out!’”
Kayden frowns at me. “You’re weird.”
“You’re weirder,” I throw back like a five-year-old.
“Whatever,” Kayden grins, and I mumble my own whatever back at him.
Luckily, there are still rolls and lemonade left when we reach the small seaside shop.
Kayden goes straight up to Cynthia, and they hug and start talking.
Cynthia is Emily’s mom. Emily’s dad is a lobster fisherman, and together they run the Merry Mermaid on the side.
It’s nothing more than a shack, really, but it’s the best joint in town.
All throughout the summer, the deck outside facing the ocean is filled with tourists, and it’s difficult to get a spot. But it isn’t peak season yet, so we manage to get two chairs with a decent view of the cove and the old lighthouse at the end of the pier.
“Fuck, I forgot how good these are,” Kayden moans next to me, chili mayo spilling down his chin. He looks around for some napkins, so I lean in over the table, grab some, and hand him a fistful. “Thanks, man,” he mumbles, his mouth full of lobster.
“Epic,” I agree as I smile at his blissed-out face. I haven’t had a roll in ages. I don’t know why. I just usually bring my own lunch. I can’t cook for shit, but I make a decent turkey sandwich.
When Kayden has scarfed down the rest of his roll and licked his fingers clean, he leans back in his chair and sighs contentedly. “Shit, I didn’t think it’d feel this good to be home.” He tracks a seagull with his gaze as it soars across the cloudless sky.
“It’s good to have you back, K. I missed you,” I admit.
He turns and looks at me, smiling wistfully. “I missed you, too, Caleb. You’re…” He doesn’t finish the sentence, and I can only imagine what he’s thinking.
“You look good, K. Happy.”
“I am, I guess. Happy-ish, at least.” He shrugs, just a barely there movement of his shoulder, and I kind of know what he means.
There are degrees of happiness. I’m happy, too, but I could still be happier, if that even makes sense.
I don’t feel that deep-seated contentment like I knew my parents had.
The kind of feeling where you are just at complete peace with yourself, like you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.
I get it in glimpses sometimes, like when I’m driving down the coast, or like right now, sitting here with Kayden, the sun caressing my face.
“Well, it shows,” I eventually say. There are so many things I want to ask him, but I don’t know how to. I don’t want to overstep or make him feel uncomfortable.
Then, like he’s read my mind, Kayden says, “You can ask, you know? It’s okay. If I don’t want to answer, I won’t.”
Surprise flutters in my chest. I have no idea how he does that, how he sees right through me, but he’s always been able to, ever since he was a small kid. I nod because he’s right. I do want to ask him. “Was it tough? I mean, the surgery.” I gesture at his flat chest behind the fitted cotton shirt.
His jaw tightens slightly. “Yeah, it was. The recovery was pretty painful, but Mom was there, watching me like a hawk.” He chuckles quietly. “I wasn’t really allowed to stretch or lift anything for several weeks, or I’d risk pulling my incisions.”
I gaze toward the ocean, zeroing in on a small fishing boat bobbing on the waves. “Are you happy, though? With how it turned out?”
Kayden shifts next to me, and I look back at him, worried I’ve overstepped. He beams at me, his eyes so vibrant and pretty, his lips pulled into a wide smile.
“So fucking happy, Caleb. There… there are no words for how good it feels.” He rubs his chest, and mine squeezes in return, like I’m somehow connected to him.
“I’m happy for you, K.”
“Thanks.”
“So…” I pause, shifting in my seat.
“Ask me.”
“So does this mean that you’re… that you’re done, you know… Or are you gonna have more surgery?” Fuck, I officially suck at this.
“You mean bottom surgery?” His voice is neutral. I guess he’s used to answering questions like these. It must be a pain, though.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m done. I mean, I don’t look like a cis guy down there, but I’m happy with what I’ve got.” He smiles carefully. “The T made my equipment grow, so to speak, and I’m happy with the dick I have now.”
“You have a dick?!” I blurt, a little too loudly, then clasp my hand over my mouth. No one seems to notice my outburst, though, too wrapped up in their own conversations.
Kayden smiles, his cheeks on fire now. “Yeah. I have a few inches.”
“Oh, okay. Sorry, I’m such a clueless idiot.” My gaze drops to my boots. Kayden reaches for my hand and tangles our fingers together like he used to do when he was a little kid, and I’d carry him on my shoulders.
“You’re not an idiot, Caleb. It’s okay not to know stuff like that.
I think a lot of people don’t. But yeah, the testosterone made my equipment grow, and it looks like a small dick now.
” I notice the choice of words, the neutral equipment, and how he avoids the female word for his sex.
It seems deliberate. Fuck, I feel so out of my depth here.
I need to read up on stuff like this. What it means to be transgender and how to be a good friend to someone who’s trans.
I want to be that for Kayden. A good friend.
I don’t think he has many. Neither do I, if I’m being honest. Not close ones, at least. It’s basically just Sal and me. It always was.
“Thank you for telling me,” I smile, then squeeze his fingers. He brushes his thumb along my knuckles.
“Of course. Honestly, Caleb, you can ask me anything. I really don’t mind. And if there’s something I don’t want to talk about, I’ll let you know.”
Once again, it strikes me how different Kayden is. How mature, despite his age. How confident and settled in his own skin. In a way, I’m jealous. I wish I had just an ounce of his calm self-awareness. I think my relationships with other people would be a lot easier if I knew myself better.
“Good to know,” I finally say, getting up. “We should get back.”
He squints against the sun. “Yeah, I still have a disaster of epic proportions I need to deal with.”
“Ha, ha.” I pull him from his chair and against me, ruffling his hair until he squirms, squealing.
This time, people do turn and look in our direction, but I don’t care.
They can look all they want. Spending my lunch break with Kayden has left me feeling lighter and happier than I’ve been in a long time.
We walk back in silence, the afternoon sun beating down on our backs. When we reach the back entrance to the shop, Kayden turns and frowns at me, like he’s pondering something.
“What? Do I have mayo on my nose?”
“Just a little. No, I was thinking… if you come by around dinner time tonight, I’ll cook us something real quick, and then you can put up the lights while I work.
I also want to get started on an Instagram account for you guys.
I was thinking of doing a weekly feature on one of your employees.
You know, to put a face on the amazing people behind the brand. ”
I just stare at him for a few seconds.
“Caleb?”
“That’s a fucking great idea.”
“Yeah?” Excitement pools in his eyes.
“Absolutely. I love it.”
“Cool.”
“Cool,” I repeat, and Kayden shakes his head at me, mumbling something that sounds like “dork” under his breath, before he turns around and heads inside, a light spring to his step that mirrors the immense lightness in my chest.