21. Chapter 21
Chapter twenty-one
Ray
W e pull up to my childhood home a little before suppertime and find street parking nearby. As soon as I step inside, my youngest brother gloms onto me, hugging me tight before I can fully cross the threshold. I’m buzzing with nerves over what I came here to do.
I need to come out. And no matter how certain I am that my family will love me regardless, I can’t shake the lingering what-ifs that have kept me silent for years. What if they don’t want another son? What if I have to watch them grieve a version of me that only ever existed in their heads?
I keep thinking of how open Jordie is with their parents. Remembering how deeply weird it was to sit at a family dinner knowing that Jordie’s parents and siblings know something so personal about me that my own don’t.
“Missed you, baby sister.” Luke rocks me side to side, mashing my chest against his gym-honed pecs uncomfortably. I squirm away, my insides equally twisted up at the familiar wrongness of the nickname.
Jordie stands awkwardly behind me waiting for an introduction, but they notice my discomfort and place a supportive hand on my shoulder.
“Missed you too.” I’m kicking myself for not wearing my binder. I debated whether to just rip off the bandaid by showing up flat-chested, but in the end opted for comfort during the hours of driving. So I took it off about an hour into the drive and just wore my baggy hoodie in the car.
Now I regret not putting it back on before walking through the door because the hug makes me hyperaware of the things I don’t like about my body. I disentangle myself from Luke and drag Jordie between us. “This is my partner, Jordie.”
“Hi.” Jordie waves, artificially cheerful in a way I’m not used to seeing them. I don’t love the painfully brittle fake smile, but their big grin deflects from my discomfort, so I appreciate it.
I texted to let the rents know we were close. Dad texted back that he’s just getting on the bus home from work, so he’ll be home soon. Mom is probably in the kitchen judging from the delicious aroma of dinner wafting down the hallway. This is the perfect time to tell Luke who I am and that I’d rather he not call me his sister. Except my tongue gets tangled on the words and he’s smiling at my joyfriend. I don’t want to spoil the moment.
“Ah, yes, the famous study buddy you kept being so dodgy about. How did you trick them into coming home with you?” Luke play-punches my arm. The big goofball might call me his sister at every opportunity, but he treats me like our older brothers treat him. This same rough and tumble act has made me feel included, even at my most dysphoric.
“Hey!” I pout theatrically.
“What? Iel est bandant.” Luke fans himself playfully. And I can’t express how much I appreciate him using neutral language to the extent possible. We’ve all been practicing for Ed, even before I told my brothers about my own nonbinary partner.
“Don’t be rude; Jordie is still learning French.” I elbow Luke and Jordie looks flustered.
“Aw, but they are learning? For you? That’s sweet, sis. C’est adorable.”
I flush. “No, not for me. And quit it. He’s just saying you’re cute.” I turn toward Jordie, feeling weirdly protective of them.
The sis nickname rolls off my back harder than before I got used to being gendered correctly by my friends at university. I need to tell Luke that I’m trans on this visit because the nicknames are beyond old. They bother me more now, after being around people who use my chosen name and correct pronouns without question.
“I’m saying you’re a hottie and sis needs to lock that down.” Luke winks playfully at my partner. His charming dimples are on display. He’s such a pest.
Jordie bites their lip and glances at me, like they’re checking how to respond. Ah. Yeah. because there it is again. You’d think after twenty-one years of being my big brother, Luke, could come up with a better nickname for me. Ugh.
The need to just blurt it out and ask him to call me Ray, or even bro, wars with all my angsty what-ifs. Standing here, I still only have a vague grand plan about how to tell my family who I am. I subtly shake my head for them to leave the gender stuff alone for now. Jordie lifts one brow at me, wordlessly asking if I’m sure, but not pushing me before I’m ready. I grab their hand and squeeze, warmed to my toes at their willingness to stand up for me. And a little besotted with how nice it is to be so in sync with another person that we can communicate volumes with a glance.
“Okay, so I guess I need to practice my French some more. You guys talk fast,” Jordie says with a self-deprecating chuckle.
“Hey, I don’t try to scare off your dates, Luke.” I pout at him. Technically true, even if both of our other brothers could argue that point.
“It’s going to take more than your brother hitting on me to scare me off.” Jordie winks at me.
“Perks of not dating anyone.” Luke cackles.
I stick my tongue out at him and pointedly loop my elbow through Jordie’s.
“Come on, Jords, let’s go find Mom to say hi. We can talk slower if you want to practice your French more while you’re here.” I shove past my annoying brother, dragging my suitcase and my joyfriend behind me. Jordie grabs their bag and follows. The hall isn’t really wide enough for us to maneuver our bags like that, so they untangle their arm from mine.
They give my hand a reassuring squeeze, reminding me that whatever happens when I decide to spill the boy beans, they will be here for me. I need that unfailing support more than I thought I would. Before I get more than five steps toward the living room looking for Mom, an unearthly shrieking from around the corner startles me.
“What the heck is that?” I whirl toward Luke.
Luke laughs. “ That is Socks. AKA destroyer of dude fingers. AKA defender of all feminine virtue. AKA hell-spawned man-hating demon from the abyss.”
From Luke’s description and the loud whistling that comes next, I’m half convinced Mom somehow got a sentient teapot or something.
Just then, the front door opens and Dad lets himself in, setting aside his work bag and removing his jacket and gloves. “Hey! You made it. Give your old man a hug.”
Dad brushes past Luke and pulls me into a hug that reminds me of home more viscerally than walking through the front door did. This is what I’ve been missing at school. Knowing I will always have a safe place to land and unconditional love. This is what I’m scared shitless of losing when I tell my family my truth. I cling hard when Dad’s grip loosens like he might step back. I’m not ready to let go. He takes my cue and hugs me harder.
“It’s good to have you home, kiddo,” Dad murmurs to me, patting my back. He holds me as I do my best to banish my doubts and fears that this might be the last time he hugs me before I upend my whole life. “Everything alright?”
He holds me at arm’s length and scrutinizes me with a concerned expression. I can’t make myself tell him.
“Yeah, tired from the drive. But I’m glad to be home.” I give him a wan smile.
Dad nods his acceptance, even though I know he can tell something is up. He turns to Jordie, giving me space to come to him with whatever is on my mind when I’m ready. I want to be ready. I’m beyond ready to be out about my gender. It’s just the actual words I’m not quite ready to say.
“This must be the famous Jordie? Welcome! It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Dad hauls them into a bear hug as if they’re already part of the family. Typical Dad, this is how he’s greeted all my dates, regardless of gender, since I was a teenager.
“Nice to meet you,” Jordie agrees. They tense at first, but then relax into Dad’s hug. “I’ve heard so much about you all.”
“Well, we’ll get better acquainted over dinner. I put a roast in the slow cooker this morning. There should be plenty for everyone, no new food restrictions, right? Or any other big changes we should know about?”
“None,” I say. It’s on the tip of my tongue to protest that I’d have told them about any major changes but he’s looking at my short hair, so I guess that was a subtle dig about not telling them I wanted a new style.
“Alright then. Your mom is probably in the den with her new baby if you want to say hello.”
I pout. “But I thought I was the baby of the family forever.”
“Yeah, well, so did I for three blissful years. That’s the breaks, sis.” Luke slugs my shoulder playfully, crowding closer to us.
“So, this Socks is my replacement?” I complain.
“Yep, empty nest,” Luke jokes. “We keep telling her it’s not meant to be literal, but you know how she gets.” My brother ruffles my short hair. “This is still so weird. It’s going to take some getting used to until you grow it back out.”
I swallow down the retort that I have no intention of growing my hair back out and stick my tongue out at him again. Dad kisses my cheek and takes my suitcase from me. “I’ll go put this up in your room. Go say hi to your mother and her new emotional support parrot.”
“Pft, sure. As in, the parrot needs her for emotional support,” Luke says.
“Your brother is not wrong.” Dad rolls his eyes. “My new demon overlord seems to think that she has dibs on Alice, particularly her shoulders.”
“Socks hates all men. So, you’re in luck anyway. Bet she won’t savage your poor fingers.” Luke waggles several bandaid-wrapped fingers at me.
“I have failed you as a father if you don’t realize that any self-respecting demon lord requires regular sacrifices,” Dad says. He’s such a dork. But Jordie is smiling, so I can’t be too put out by my family’s over-the-top ridiculousness.
“Yeah, blood sacrifices.” Luke sulks. He folds his arms across his chest, presumably in a much belated attempt to protect his bandaged fingers.
“Here, I’ll bring your bag upstairs too, Jordie. Are you kids bunking together? Alice made up the cot in your old room, but if you each want your own, we have plenty of space.”
Jordie looks at me and arches a brow, like, is this a trick question? I smile. “Put everything in my room, please.”
“Sure.” Dad hesitates, takes in how close Jordie is standing to me, and adds. “Don’t know if you need them, but there are condoms and lube by the sink, like always. It’s a fresh box, no questions asked.”
“Dad!” I groan. Luke cackles.
Jordie snorts. “Thanks, Mr. Gagnon.”
“What? None of my business what you use them for. I hear they make excellent balloon animals.” Dad winks.
Just then, Mom sweeps into the entryway, a lemon-yellow parrot perched on her shoulder, nestled into Mom’s long hair like she’s wearing it.
“ Dad! ” I repeat, more vociferously. As if that ever stopped him from delighting in inflicting maximal embarrassment.
“I mean, I’m clearly no expert considering there are four of you kids.” Dad fires his parting shot. He hefts both mine and Jordie’s bags up the stairs with a grunt of effort.
“I should have packed bricks. Just for that, I’m going to sacrifice you to the feathered overlord,” I call after him.
“Don’t be silly—Socks, sovereign of the seven hell, is perfectly happy with offerings of fruit and jewels to beak at. Come here, my darling girl. I’ve missed having another lady in the house. Socks is going to love you!” Mom says.
Mom opens her arms to hug me. I go to her, heedless of the sharp beak that apparently won’t touch me and sharper words that hurt all the more because they make me feel invisible. Like a caricature of myself with these people I love.
It’s as if I’m interacting with them behind a sheet of thick plastic and they can’t see the real me at all. It hurts so much more now, after experiencing acceptance. Jordie and their friends gave me a taste of what it’s like to exist without the stifling role I got cast in at birth and can’t seem to stop playing.
I’m on the verge of tears at what should be a happy homecoming, because my family will always see me as a girl. And even a tiny bundle of feathers needs to rub in that inescapable reality. I feel foolish for even thinking I’d somehow discover the courage to say something—finally just tell them. My heart sinks and I wish my mom could hug away all my fears and make this okay the way she’s always tried to make all my hurts better.
I want to lock away all these feelings that have gotten so much stronger since Jordie helped me find the strength to let them out. It hurts for the people I love most to be so confidently wrong about something so fundamental to who I am, but I don’t know how to fix it. Hot tears sting my eyelids and I fight to hold them back.
“OW!” I jerk away from Mom. The sudden sharp sting feels like getting my ear pierced. A burning shock followed by angry flapping and squawking.
“No bites!” Socks squeaks in a high-pitched voice.
“Socks, what’s gotten into you?” Mom pulls back, giving me a strange look as the startled pain melts into relieved hilarity.
I burst out in raucous laughter, even as I rub my ear, checking for blood. Luke wasn’t joking about that beak hurting. All my fears and angst, and I’m going to let a tiny ball of feathers out me to my family.
Mom’s parrot somehow sees me. Knows that I’m a boy. I can’t help myself; I laugh until my stomach aches and Jordie is rubbing my back, a knowing smile on their face. Mom and Luke are looking at me like I’ve well and truly lost the plot.
“You okay?” Luke asks.
“Huh, she usually only bites men. I could have sworn the rescue was clear about that. They must have been mistaken.” Mom is studying my face intently, tilting my chin to examine my ear. “You aren’t bleeding.”
“You know, I’ve never seen anyone enjoy her bites like that,” Luke muses. “Keep your weird bird kinks to yourself, sis.”
“Enough Lucas,” Mom chides my brother, still fussing over me. “Are you alright, dear?”
“Yeah. I’m… Mom, they weren’t wrong.”
“Hm? About what?”
Luke’s eyes widen in comprehension, and he covers his mouth. “Oh, shit!” His gaze flicks between me and Jordie, then he points between us. “Toi aussi? Tu est comme ellui?”
I wobble my hand in front of me in a so-so gesture. “I’m trans too, if that’s what you mean.”
“Oh.” Mom stares at me. And I hold my breath, on the brink of shattering if she doesn’t take it well. Rejection would hurt so much more than a bird bite. I don’t want to watch the emotions playing out on my mother’s face, but I do. Searching for the confusion, anger, betrayal, or hurt. The disappointment I was so sure she’d feel. She’s just looking at me though.
“Um, dude, sorry if I made things weird with all the calling you sis.” Luke fidgets. He taps his toe on the ground and rubs at his nape. It’s like he’s running our entire interaction back and cringing as much as I did the first time. “Guess I should have guessed.” He runs a hand pointedly through his own short hair, then glances between me and Mom. “Um, are you going to say something, Mom?” He shuffles over to stand shoulder to shoulder with me, on the opposite side from Jordie.
And infuriating as my youngest brother is, I could hug him for asking the thing I’m desperate to hear and too fragile to ask. Mom shakes her head, and ice grips my heart.
“So, what do I call you now?” she asks.
“Um, your son?” I hunch my shoulders, bracing for a rejection that still doesn’t come.
Mom laughs. “Oh, of course darling, that goes without saying I meant your name.”
“Oh.” I can breathe again. The ice around my heart melts and my mom still loves me. “Ray.”
Mom gives me a funny look. “Is this why you asked me what we were going to call you if you were another boy? You’ve known that long, and you never said anything?”
“Maybe longer?” I shift from foot to foot, swaying into Jordie and taking strength from the contact. This is hard, exposing all my most vulnerable parts to my mom. Leftover adrenaline still claws at my insides. I’m somewhere between lightheaded, giddy relief and a creeping nausea for all the years of pointlessly lost time as her reaction sinks in.
I can’t put into words how isolating it has been to feel like the people I love were looking straight through me. Only seeing my painstaking projection of who I thought they wanted me to be. How terrified I was that if I showed them the real me, they’d turn their backs on me. I love my mom, but this has been a barrier between us for so long and I was the only one who seemed to notice. My eyes sting. I want her to make those years of hiding okay the way she made all my childhood scrapes and bruises better, to hug away the ache of lost time and wasted fears.
“Oh, darling, come here!” Mom reaches for me, arms open for a hug I want to dive into. Let the invisible barriers fall and figure out how to be myself with her again. If I let go of my control, I’ll fall apart knowing I have people to put my back together again. But there’s more to discuss, so I hold myself back.
“Uh, I don’t need Socks to re-pierce the other ear.” I hesitate, warding Mom off with both hands. I glance at the cute little murder beak still perched on her shoulder. Humor always helps when things are too serious like this. I got that from Dad, so Mom is used to it and takes my protest in stride.
Mom lifts Socks onto a finger and holds the bird out to the side for a one-armed hug.
“Problem solved, now come here and let me love on my baby boy.” Mom wiggles her fingers at me and I step into her. Relief flows through me. She still loves me. We can figure the rest out from there.
I melt into Mom’s embrace, and it feels so good to have the truth out in the open. Relieved tears burn behind my eyes and when I pull away, I’m fighting them back. Jordie gives me a knowing smile.
“No fair, usurping my youngest status all over again,” Luke teases, easing some of the tension as I flip him off.
“Hey, Ray, you know what this means?” Jordie nudges me playfully. Their touch grounds me, makes me feel less off kilter.
“What?” I sniffle.
“Now you’re officially AMAB. Assigned Male At Bird,” Jordie jokes.
Luke snorts. Mom shakes her head with a lost smile, like she doesn’t quite get the joke. I laugh harder than it merits, swept up in the cathartic torrent of relief and joy. Socks preens Mom’s ear, then ruffles her feathers out and beaks at her wings, grooming herself.
“Let’s see what your gender reveal parrot thinks about me next!” Jordie jabs a finger at Socks.
“Don’t tempt the fates,” I groan, grabbing for their arm as Socks cocks her head. The parrot fluffs up her feathers and whistles before reaching out her beak to tap Jordie’s shiny enamel pronoun ring. The tiny ball of feathers makes an adorable kissing sound. Apparently, she can be deceptively sweet when she cares to be.
“Rock on, little birdie.” Jordie is grinning. “Hey, what’s it mean when the sovereign of hell kisses your ring?”
“You are truly among her favored servants,” Luke intones, playfully bending at the waist in a bow toward Jordie. They eat up the teasing.
“The gender bird has spoken; I’m woman enough to keep my skin intact,” Jordie jokes. “Tremble before my majesty. So, Mrs. G, what do you say? Can I join you for the girl-bonding while Ray catches up with his brothers?”
“Oh, it’s Ms. Tremblay, actually.” Mom smiles at them. “But of course, dear. No sense letting a perfectly good day of pampering go to waste. I’m looking forward to getting to know you better. Ray, would you want to join us?”
“No, thanks.” I wrinkle my nose and exchange a look with Luke. “You two can enjoy that without me.”
Mom shakes her head fondly. “Four boys. Goodness. That might explain some things. Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”
I shrug self-consciously. “It seems stupid now.”
“Didn’t I always say you could tell me anything?” Mom’s eyes pinch at the corners, lips set in a trembling line, like she’s trying to hide hurt feelings.
“You did. But I know how much you loved the idea of having a daughter.” I shrug, hiding my own old hurts. They made it so clear my gender mattered to them, darn it. I was certain my folks would meet my news with disappointment, at the least.
“I did. But you know what I love more than that?” Mom lifts an elegant brow at me.
“What?” I arch a brow right back at her.
“You. And your brothers. I love you so much more than I could ever have imagined loving the idea of you.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t want to disappoint you guys.” I hug myself, wishing again that I’d worn my binder when my arms mash into too-soft flesh that I’m no longer used to. “At least, not more than I already do. I’m not smart or athletic like my brothers and I didn’t want to fail at the one way I stood out from them. See? Stupid.”
“Oh, darling boy, you could never disappoint us.” Mom cups my face in her hand, and then tips my chin up so I’ll meet her eyes. “Unless you really are making sacrifices to other demons. Because we owe very strict fealty to Socks now.”
I crack up laughing, all my tangled feelings about her reaction melting into hilarity. There’s no sense wasting more time on bitter regret over borrowed fears that turned out to be utterly unfounded.
Mom hugs me again, jostling Socks into flight. The bird shrieks a protest as she wings her way over to perch on a framed family photo and shows her displeasure by shitting on it. Luke snorts. Mom sighs.
“I suppose we’ll have to look at updating that now, won’t we?”
“Really?” I ask, startled because there’s acceptance and then there is showing she means it all the way.
“Yes. I want all my boys to always feel welcome coming home. I don’t know too much, but when you and your brother told us your new partners are nonbinary, Dad and I did some research. The parent forums all said affirming photos are important.”
“You don’t have any photos of Jordie.” I point out, deflecting from how her complete and unquestioning acceptance has me totally off kilter. Of all the ways I expected my family to react, this is beyond my wildest hopes. It doesn’t feel real, like I’m floating on air or living through a dream that’s too good to be true. Jordie squeezes their arm around my shoulders.
“Well, no.” Mom smiles at me. “That’s true, but I also don’t have any photos of all my boys looking handsome in their suits. We’ll plan something, maybe after Jackie has the baby?”
“Yeah, that would be nice.” I smile. It would be nice to have updated family photos. Mom scheduling it for after my nephew is born makes it feel less like I’m the sole reason to drag my brothers into formal wear.
“Good. We can get it scheduled for your winter break. Now, you kids must be hungry after your trip. How was the drive? I have potatoes baking, and Dad’s famous roast is in the slow cooker. Luke brought over a tarte au sucre for dessert. If you’re hungry, I can make you two some radish sandwiches or something to tide you over until supper,” Mom offers an assortment of my favorite meal options.
Jordie’s brow scrunches. “Sugar pie? Am I translating that right?”
Luke’s eyes twinkle with mischief as he says, “Yep, it’s exactly what it sounds like. Has Ray told you about the time sh—he, sorry—ate an entire tarte au sucre with his hands? It took dad half the night to scrub the filling out of his hair.”
“I have the pictures,” Mom volunteers.
Jordie rubs their hands together gleefully. “Oh? Do I get to see the embarrassing baby photos?”
“I was a toddler!” I protest. “And it’s still the best pie. Sort of like pecan, but without the nuts.”
“Makes sense that you’d like your sweets equally with and without nuts,” Luke teases me relentlessly. He’s such an infuriating pain in my ass, and I’ve missed the crap out of him.
“I do like my dates sweet as pie,” I agree, winking at Jordie.
They make a silly face at me. “I’m not that sweet. And wait, did you say radish sandwiches?” They wrinkle their nose. “Is that a thing?”
“Mhm, a delicious thing. Come try some.” I grab their hand and tug them toward the kitchen, pleased that they don’t seem too overwhelmed by my family.
“What did I miss?” Dad asks as he rejoins us in the entry hall. “Why are we standing in the hall? Come inside and get comfortable.”
Mom gives me a look. “Should I share Socks’s revelations, or do you want to do the honors?”
It’s easier to find my words now that I’ve broached the subject and Mom and Luke made their support clear. The tightness around my chest that wouldn’t let me voice the words earlier is still there, but it’s eased enough for me to speak.
I take a deep breath. Jordie puts a comforting hand on my shoulder. Mom nods her encouragement and even Luke shoots me a thumbs up.
I can do this. I swallow down my nerves. Years of putting on a smile over my dysphoria have taught me how to make a flippant joke when anxiety is like a bucket of eels wriggling in my belly.
“Oh, you didn’t miss much, just me coming out,” I say.
Dad’s brow wrinkles in confusion. “But we already know you swing both ways, dear. Unless that’s changed?” He glances between me and Jordie, as though unsure how their identity fits into the calculus of my sexuality. That’s not awkward at all.
Luke literally face palms and I almost crack up laughing at his exasperated expression. That makes it easier to keep my cool and maintain my pretense of nonchalance. “I’m a guy. Like, as in transgender. And I’m going by Ray now.”
“Oh.” Dad shakes his head, face unreadable. He asks, “So I guess the short hair is here to stay?”
“Huh?” I’m not sure how to react to him fixating on something so trivial. Part of me is indignant that he isn’t taking this seriously, but the more logical part of me knows humor is how Dad copes with even the most dire news. But this isn’t bad news.
Dad rallies. “Because, you know, plenty of men are growing out their hair these days. Nothing says you have to keep it short to be a guy.”
“Dad!” I groan. This is so typical of him, but he rarely sticks so doggedly to a bit. Still, it’s classic Dad to use ridiculous humor to defuse a tense situation. That tells me more than any heartfelt declaration that my identity won’t change how he treats me in the least.
“What? I’ve tried to convince your brothers to grow theirs out too,” Dad protests. I have no doubt he has; he started balding when I was still a toddler, but I’ve seen the pictures from when he and Mom met. His hair was longer than hers. He used to spend hours helping me try out new styles, putting my long, thick tresses into elaborate braids to keep the tangles away. I realize with incredulity that he might actually be this disappointed about my hair for its own sake.
“No dice, Dad.” I shake my head, then bite my lip, shuffling from foot to foot as residual anxiety courses through me. I need to hear him say he accepts me for who I am point blank before I can relax fully. “So, are we good?”
“You’re my baby, Ray. Nothing is going to change how much I love you. Bring it in.” Dad hugs me tight, thumping my back before releasing me. “Just means Mom and Socks will have to cheat even more outrageously when we play guys versus girls on board game night.” He winks, rubbing his hands together in a parody of an evil villain monologuing.
Mom scowls and shoves playfully at Dad’s shoulder. “Careful that you don’t unleash the wrath of Socks, dear. Anyway, Jordie will be on my team, won’t you, dear? Or do we need to have a separate enby team?”
“Technically, I’d be on that team with them,” I say. The fact she knows enough to realize nonbinary people exist as something other than a category of woman light gives me the courage to share a little more of myself. My family takes it in stride.
Mom nods. “Good, that will even out the teams a little. And Jackie will be on my team.”
“And Darren’s been seeing that genderfluid paralegal, so ze can be on your team too,” Luke pipes in.
“First of all, Ed has a name, and ze makes your brother happy, so ze is always welcome at board game night. But also, rats. You realize this entirely ruins my diabolical plans for board game domination.” Dad pouts. “So much for increasing my team’s advantage by having three 2SLGBTQI+ sons. Fine, I suppose we can have a three-way.”
“Dad!” Luke and I groan. I drop my face into my hands and peek between my fingers at Jordie to gauge their reaction. They have a hand pressed delicately to their mouth to suppress a laugh, eyes twinkling with glee. At least someone thinks Dad is funny. He really is trying if he’s up to date on his government official acronyms for the queer community, at least. Even if it sounds a little weird to rattle off all the letters aloud.
“What? A three-way competition . What else would I mean?” His expression is so innocent I can almost buy that he doesn’t realize the other connotation of what he said. The man thrives on embarrassing us kids. Still, it’s nice in a way. Falling into familiar patterns of banter. Being treated the same as always and having Jordie folded into the family like they’ve always been a part of us.
“Nevermind that, dinner is almost ready. Come carve up your roast. I’m sure Jordie and Ray are hungry and tired after their drive. Step up, little demon lord.” Mom lifts Socks onto her finger, making kissy noises near her beak. “I’m just going to get her settled in her cage with her evening sacrifice.”
“All hail her unholy highness, Socks,” Luke intones.
My family is as weird as ever, but Jordie is grinning, totally unphased by them. The fact they’re all being their usual strange selves makes it easy to believe I won’t have to sacrifice my relationships with my family to be myself. The rush of relief as that sinks in hits me like a wave and leaves me lightheaded.
The unrelenting weight of their unknown reaction isn’t hanging over me anymore. For years, it’s seemed like a massive Sword of Damocles hanging over me. Where any slip on my part risked severing my connection to the people who love me if they realized I wasn’t the girl they thought I was. The big secret I’ve carried so close to my heart for so long is out in the open and everything is going to work out just fine. I still need to tell my two oldest brothers, but I’m not as worried about their reactions after how Luke and my folks responded.
I sway on my feet at the enormity of it all, and Jordie slings an arm around my shoulders to support me. The pride shining in their eyes melts my heart for them all over again. I lean in and kiss their cheek.
I can’t wait to have them alone again so we can celebrate. Not that I need an excuse. I’ve been horny as hell since starting T, so that has only amplified all the new relationship honeymoon type feelings I have about Jordie.
I’m practically floating. I feel so light as we head down the hallway to eat dinner with my family. It’s like I’ve shed the last vestiges of the old me and can truly embrace myself wholly as Ray in all areas of my life.
There is nothing holding me back anymore, all because Jordie gave me the confidence to finally let the words past my lips. I want nothing more than to kiss every inch of them, and I can’t keep the smile off my face as I watch them joke around with my family. They fit here with me.
I love how right it feels when Jordie holds my hand. They call me their boyfriend and no one bats an eye at the affection. This is the first night of a future I scarcely dared to believe I could have. My family and my truth, coexisting, both all mine.