[- Insights -]

Jen and I went back to the condo to hang out for a couple of hours. My goal was to keep her from being stressed about her mom being in surgery—which sitting in the waiting room was a constant reminder—and to keep us away from Gary, at least for a little while. Before we left the parking lot, I’d gotten a text from Sara that added to my stresses of the day.

Sara: We really need to talk.

I didn’t answer her, which I know wasn’t the right thing to do, but I didn’t want to have a text conversation about standing up to Gary or for her to tell me again this was going to be the norm if I were to continue being with her. I was worried she’d suggest we end this relationship, which I knew was ‘worst case’ thinking, but I couldn’t help but go there. Even thinking that made me anxious.

I understood what came with some of this hate directed at her, though certainly not to the level she’d had to live with or how she processed her own personal sanity and safety. Regardless, I wasn’t going to be denied being with her for some opinion by someone I didn’t give a shit about. Did she not understand I knew who she was and believed in her?

“Are you okay?”

“Yup… I’m good,” I said with as much cheer as I could muster after being startled by the question since we’d been sitting quietly in the living room.

“Gary just texted me, said things are going well, and whoever told him that said Mom’s doing really well so far,” Jen said. “I texted Sara to see if she’d heard anything, and she said she heard the same thing. She asked me how you were doing.”

I’d seen her looking at her phone, but hadn’t realized she was reading a text. I looked at my phone for the time, 10:38 AM, and I wondered just how far they were into the surgery. If Sara was right and it was a twelve-hour surgery, Denise wouldn’t be done until 7PM or later tonight. Augh…

“You want to chill another hour here, maybe get some lunch, and then stop in at the hospital?” I asked.

“Sure… Are you going to text Sara?” she asked.

“I will,” I replied with a raised brow. “We’re fine, kiddo…”

“Why would she ask me if you were alright? You’re not talking to her or something?”

“She knows you’d tell her the truth, and if she asked me, I might downplay being worried. We’re talking… Come on, really?”

“You’re worried?”

“A little… I don’t want anything bad to happen to your mom, and I want her to be on her way to a healthy life after all this,” I stated.

“Sara told me the doctor doing the surgery is really good. I think that’s why I’m not freaking out more about all this,” she said, pulling her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs in a hug, and setting her chin on her knees to watch me from the couch.

What I’d give to be that damn flexible!

“I think your mom knew what she was getting by going with Doctor Jenkins. Sara told me he’s the best neurosurgeon around, so I’ve got high hopes.”

Jen looked to be formulating a question and I tilted my head in mock curiosity, which gave her the opening she was looking for to ask, “Did you worry about what you were getting into when you started to date Sara?”

Fucking Gary… Guy spews his crap, and now Jen’s worried about Sara and me? Grrr…

“Honestly, no… It’s weird, but I only ever saw her as a very attractive woman with a positive vibe, so the idea she was Trans was a bit of a shock and didn’t really matter once I got to really know her.”

“Really? Vibe? That word is so old, you know that, right?”

I couldn’t help but laugh, “I know, give your dad some slack, huh? Anyway, I didn’t see any ‘Trans’ vibe because there wasn’t anything to see but Sara. Pretty sure Gary missed it too, at least for a few seconds…”

“I’m not liking him very much right now… He’ll be hard to be around once mom is better.”

“Yeah, some of his ugly underbelly is shining through, I’ll give you that.”

“So… Like, you really like Sara, huh? I told you she wasn’t all complex and whatever.”

“I’m pretty sure all women, including those who are sixteen and well on their way to womanhood, are complex,” I said, chuckling after that nugget. “I told you we’ve used the ‘L’ word with each other. She has fit into my life easily and opened my eyes to what being happy can be like. I appreciate you accepting her.”

“I like her too, you know,” she complained.

“I know, I know…”

“You don’t have any ‘Trans’ concerns?” she asked all conspiratorially.

“No, but I’d never claim to understand all there is to know. Sara said everyone’s journey is different, so how she’s managed might be different from your friend…,” I was saying but couldn’t remember the girl's name and paused to get clued in on the name.

“Trinity…”

“Yeah, from Trinity’s transition. I know the president-elect’s rhetoric isn’t going to help Sara or Trinity. I think Sara worries about the effects of her being Trans spilling onto you and me. I could have done more research on what she’s gone through and how I can support her better. Then again, I’d probably have screwed that up by overthinking it. I have to admit it’s been a lot easier being me with her, the true me, and we’re learning as we go how we complement each other.”

Jen giggled at me before saying, “You do overthink stuff.”

“I’m working on that,” I complained. “Anyway, there are too many people like Gary out there right now. Ignorant people who can’t string two reasonable thoughts together without help. I hate that, and I hate that Sara gets crap from everywhere and there are very few places she can let her guard down and just be herself. That’s hard for me to accept, which is why I felt like I needed to say something when Gary was being an ass earlier.”

“He made me so mad I wanted to hit ‘em,” she replied, throwing a couple punches at nothing and then resuming her balled-up position.

“We’re not going to be beating on anyone,” I began saying, but Jen cut in.

“Oh, like you weren’t thinking about hitting Gary this morning?”

She was smiling at me, and I knew it would be impossible to lie.

“Okay, that was the heat of the moment, and I need to do better to show Sara I trust in who she is, and besides, there are other ways to go about waking people up to accepting someone who is Trans. Oh, that giant of a security guard seemed to have the right amount of Umph! to slow Gary’s roll, huh?”

“Did you see his arms?! Like… Like bigger than my thighs,” she giggled, eyes wide.

“Yeah, he scared me too, and he wasn’t even talking to me. I do like that he stepped in when Gary had gone off the rails. I’ll have to ask Sara about him; he seemed to know her, so maybe he was looking out for her.”

“If you do, can you see if he’s single?” She asked with a straight face, but when I looked shocked, the giggles couldn’t be held back.

“Hahaha… Not funny, kiddo.”

We sat there in silence for a few minutes, and my curiosity got the better of me.

“Say, what’s with your mom’s attitude lately? Have you been working on her, because the other night was a bit different than I’m used to from her?”

I’d asked that because I was truly interested in what she could tell me about Denise’s attitude of late. I watched her think quietly for a few seconds, maybe considering how she was going to reply.

“Mom knows…”

“Yeah, I know she’s known Sara was Trans for a while,” I stated, maybe sounding a little confused.

“No… I mean, yes, she’s known that, but, ugh… K, this brain thing has changed her, and she knows it. Like, IDK, she… She realizes she’s said things she shouldn’t have, like Tourette’ or whatever that outburst disease is,” she said quietly.

“Did she tell you that?” I asked, surprised.

“Ahhh, we do talk, Dad…,” she replied, sounding like I was an idiot for not realizing that. “Yeah, she said something about being rude to you about Sara and not liking that she’d done that... I think it was hard for her to admit.”

That was a surprise to hear, but it did make me feel a little better hearing that—that the woman I’d loved and invested all those years with wasn’t as heartless as I’d feared.

“Do you think Gary fed any of that hate?” I asked.

“IDK for sure, but yeah, probs… They don’t talk a lot about you when I’m around, and I’ve tried to listen in or catch them, but they’re pretty private about stuff concerning you,” she offered.

Guess Denise held to our agreement to not badmouth each other in front of Jen after all.

[- Avoidance -]

We returned to the hospital after lunch and were there just after 3PM when a nurse came out to tell us they had swapped surgical teams, though Dr. Jenkins was still in there and would be until the procedure was complete. By all accounts Denise was doing really well; all her vitals were well within normal ranges, and the nurse passed on that Dr. Jenkins thought they were about two-thirds complete.

As long as everything was looking good, I didn’t care how long this was going to take.

After the update, Gary walked out of the waiting area. He’d said nothing to us in the nearly two hours we’d been sitting there since grabbing lunch and returning. I would make my point about his behavior concerning Sara another time, without Jen around, and I hoped he modified his stupidity going forward—at least around me, Jen, Denise, and more importantly, Sara.

“Sara just texted me; she’s heading to the cafeteria,” Jen said, nudging me from zoning out on the TV and the back-to-back episodes of Family Feud playing on whatever channel it was on.

“Let’s go see her… My butt's sore from just sitting around, and I don’t think I can take another episode of this show.”

We arrived at the cafeteria a few seconds before Sara, and since we could see her coming down the hall, we waited for her to join us at the entrance. After quick pleasantries, Sara asked Jen if she could speak to me for a second alone. Jen stuck out her hand, and I graced it with a twenty and told her we’d be right in and to get whatever she wanted.

Out of earshot, Sara wasted no time getting to the point of wanting to be alone with me. I was bracing for the worst.

“Don’t do that to me, not acknowledging my wanting to speak to you about the whole Gary thing,” she said, looking hurt and unhappy with me.

“I’m sorry… You’re right. I should have at least said we’d talk tonight at home, but I feel like I know what you’re going to say. That being with you brings out the stupid in people, and it’s going to spill onto me or Jen, right?” I said softly as someone walked out of the cafeteria and away from where we were standing.

She shook her head at me before saying, “I started this journey at fourteen, though I knew way before that I was Trans and needed to right my life with what was going on in my head and I felt in my heart. Now I’m thirty-three, and I have a lot of life experiences dealing with this crap, pretty much on a daily basis. Don’t you think I know a thing or two about how my life affects people adversely?”

I touched her shoulder and really focused in on her eyes. I could see she was tearing up, and as much as I wanted to give in, I was about to double down on my position. As much as what she was saying mattered to her, not having her in my life mattered more to me.

“Do you really want to end this?” I asked softly.

“Of course not,” she said as her chin dropped, “But I don’t want you or Jenny having to deal with this shit, Brad. I can’t live with that; it kills me that I’m hurting you, both of you...”

“How do we move forward with respect to our mutual wants to be together knowing we’re going to have to contend with ‘shit’ because the occasional asshat doesn’t like that you’re who you are? And honestly, let me say again none of what others think about you matters to me. You and Jenny are all that matter, okay?” I asked, lifting her chin slowly, stepping in to hug her, and getting a weak hug in return. “By the way, I’m glad to hear you’re not ready to find the exit. Even if you were, I’ve got to warn you I’m not going to let you get away easily, God damn it…”

There was a momentary chuckle, but then a burying of her face into my chest.

“I’m sorry…”

“You’ve got…,” I didn’t get to finish my thought.

“Hey, you two alright?” Jen asked from behind us.

I looked to her, Sara not moving in my arms, and said, “Yeah, we’re fine… Just need a second; be right there, kiddo, get us a table.”

“Sara?” She asked softly, now coming over to put a hand on her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m apologizing for ignoring Sara; she’d texted me, and I was putting off saying anything because I didn’t want her trying to keep me from talking to Gary,” I replied.

“I could hit him; there’d be less jail time,” Jen said, hugging us both and trying to make light of the situation.

“Thanks, but please don’t,” Sara said, getting her hands to her face and clearing away her tears.

She was trying to smile, but it was obvious she was hurting.

“What did you do, Dad?”

“I just told you I was stupid and ignored her text because we need to talk this out, not text it,” I replied.

“All of this is because of Gary?” Jen asked.

I nodded.

“That’s crap! Sara, we don’t give a damn about him,” she said with more force than I expected. She looked to know what I was going to say next and got that out before I could speak, “Yeah, I know—language, but he’s a frick’n tool, and I’m done with his crap, Dad!”

That’s my kid… So, much like her mother—headstrong, passionate, and not to be denied. I could use an injection of that energy and attitude about now.

[---]

“She’s out of surgery and being moved to the ICU,” Doctor Jenkins began saying, but saw something on Jen’s face and spoke directly to her, “Everything is fine; she’ll be there for the next couple of days because she’s been through a lot and needs close monitoring as she begins healing. If her vitals hold through the night, I’ll allow immediate family to see her briefly, but she’ll probably not regain consciousness for at least twenty-four hours.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Gary said. “You were able to remove the tumor, right?”

Doctor Jenkins looked tired to me, and I’m not sure he felt he could say what he needed to say in front of Jenny to answer that question.

“Yes, but it did look a little worse than I’d thought once we began. We believe we got everything but won’t know until we get some imaging later. The craniectomy performed allows us access to go back in, but we’ve got to wait for the swelling to subside. I’m hopeful we’ve removed the entire tumor, but she’ll need the chemo and radiation to make sure none of the surrounding tissue has been compromised. If the imaging looks good, we’ll get her buttoned up and move on to the next phase of treatment,” Jenkins answered.

“Thank you, doctor,” I said, hugging Jenny, because she looked to be on the edge of losing it.

“Yeah, thank you,” Gary added.

“Mr. Lamb, I’d like a moment,” Jenkins said and began walking away from Jenny and me with Gary in tow.

“Hey… Nothing about what he said was bad, alright… The worst part of this is over for now. Your mom is going to fight this, so we can’t lose hope, right?” I asked Jen.

“I… I get it; I don’t see… Like, how any of that was good news. Does she…,” the tears began flowing and she was hugging me tighter while sobbing quietly.

“Okay, okay… Easy now… It’s a process…” I was saying, but I saw the doctor leaving and Gary looking at me. “Here, sit… I’ll be right back; let me talk with Gary for a second.”

“I want to know what… What…,” she couldn’t finish and sat, her face resting in her hands.

“I know, and I’ll tell you straight up what he tells me, alright?”

At just above a whisper she said, “Please, Dad…”

[- F’ Off -]

“What did Jenkins want?”

Gary stared at me for a few seconds before answering, “He wanted to warn me that she could have significant problems if the swelling worsens overnight. The big fear right now is infection, since they haven’t put the piece of skull they removed back. He mentioned the swelling can lead to her having troubles ranging from dizziness to speaking to memory loss. She’s a long way from being out of the woods, basically.”

“Shit… Is there anything you need?” I asked.

“No… Knowing Jenny’s being taken care of is about all you can do for me, for Denise,” he said, looking like he was trying to decide if there was anything more he wanted to say.

“I’ve got Jen; don’t worry.”

“Yeah, okay… Thanks… Look, I don’t want to get into this with you any more than to say I’d appreciate your friend staying away from Denise.”

I bristled but was prepared to lay into him if he went any further.

When he didn’t, I nodded and replied, “She works here, but I’ll pass on the request.”

“Cool… I just want to focus on Denise getting the care she deserves and to get better.”

“It’s all anyone wants,” I stated.

“Good, I don’t want to have to file a complaint with the administration or feel like this place isn’t doing all it can for Denise because your friend is poisoning people…,” he was beginning to ramble down a road I wasn’t interested in going down with him, so I jumped in.

“You’re a real dick, you know that? I’m not sure why you’re being such an ass about Sara, but I’m done letting you shit on her. Your focus should be on Denise, not some MAGA talking point from the idiot about to take office. If you want a fight, I’ll give you one, and it’ll start by pulling that spousal support I’m supplying every month. It was never court mandated, and I was being generous by even offering it… See what that does to your household and paying for the care Denise is going to need after getting out of here. Your attitude is going to fuck with Jen, and when Denise realizes it, you’re screwed because she’ll choose Jen over you any day. Keep pushing and you’re going to get fucked,” I challenged.

I took a quick glance over at Jen and could see she was watching us. She shrugged back at me, and I held up a finger to say I’d be just a minute more. I knew she couldn’t hear us talking quietly but figured she could tell we weren’t going to hug after this impromptu chat either.

“Do what you need to do… You’re only hurting Denise and Jenny by continuing this farce with that guy you’re seeing,” Gary said with a sneer.

“Good enough…”

“Good luck getting a signature on any change other than the one you’re pushing through on custody. Had I been there the other night, I wouldn’t have let Denise sign that shit.”

“Don’t you mean if you weren’t drunk and the cops hadn’t removed you from the house? Hmm, want to bet there’s a police report somewhere I can get a hold of that would help show a pattern of alcohol abuse and run-ins with the police? You think that’s going to play well for you in the future?”

“Fuck you, Brad.”

“Right back at you, Gary,” I replied and walked away.

[---]

“What did Gary say?”

“The next twenty-four hours would be critical, just like the doctor told us. Sounds like the rehab she’ll need will be a key component to her recovery,” I said, though I barely knew any of that last tidbit because Sara had shared that with me and only mentioned it because Gary and I’d obviously had said more to each other.

“You two weren’t arguing?” Jen asked.

“We were stating our positions.”

“So, that’s a yes then…”

“I don’t understand his deep-seated hate, and that makes it tough to reason with him. I think we level set our expectations moving forward,” I replied.

We got home just after 7PM, and Sara was quick to plate up her take on a ‘Chopped Salad’. Basically she’d taken some romaine lettuce and thrown in every vegetable we had in the refrigerator, some olives, cheeses cut into strips, lunch meat, and some chicken breast she’d cooked. We each got to apply our own dressing, and judging by how quiet we all were around the table, we’d succumbed to being emotionally drained / tired and hungry. It wasn’t that we were bad company, just spent after a long day of being at the hospital.

After dinner, Jen and I cleaned up as Sara watched from a barstool at the kitchen island.

“No more issues with Gary?” she asked.

When I didn’t immediately reply, Jen said, “He’s an ass…”

I gave her ‘the look,’ and I got a shrug in reply.

“So, yes, he was a problem?” Sara asked.

“He continues to be an ass, but we parted ways with an understanding of what we expected from each other moving forward,” I replied.

“Which is what?” Sara asked.

“We’d both f-off and stay focused on Denise’s care and her getting better.”

“Good grief…,” Sara complained.

[- Positions -]

After we were in bed, which happened after we’d both showered individually, Sara seemed unusually quiet.

“You okay?” I kissed the top of her head as she was snuggled next to me.

“What really happened with Gary?” she asked.

“He said he didn’t want you around Denise and said he didn’t want you poisoning any of the staff caring for her. I couldn’t say that in front of Jen… Sorry.”

“Poisoning? He’s lost his damn mind…”

“I know, I know…”

“He, like, threatened to go to the administration or something? That wouldn’t surprise me if he did,” she said, asking while locking eyes with me.

“He mentioned he’d do that if he sensed any weirdness from those caring for Denise,” I replied. “I threatened to pull the spousal support if he keeps this shit up, though. It sounds like Denise is in for a battle, and that’ll cost him. I don’t want to screw up anything for her care-wise or recovering, but I’m not going to support this idiot’s attitude if he refuses to back off.”

We lay there silently for a few minutes, and I couldn’t take the silence.

“I bring my share of drama to this relationship,” I said, hugging her.

“You do, but it’s not the same kind as I’m bringing; not to mention, without my issue, none of his craziness you’re experiencing from Gary or others would be happening.”

“What’s most important here, though? Us, right?”

“Yes, we’re trying to figure it out, but change is on the horizon, and it’s not going to be pleasant for anyone who’s Trans or supports someone who’s is. I heard something about passports today that could be a problem. Mine expires in two years—right in the middle of his term, and he’s already threatening changes that are binary based. They could pull my original birth certificate, which has been corrected, but that would prevent me from getting my passport as who I am now. There’s only so much legal support I can fall back on before I’ll get swept away…”

“No one is going to sweep you away; they can’t; you’ve always existed, and they can’t change that… Not that they won’t try, but that guy’s got an expiration date.”

She was studying me, “Did you forget about his ‘peaceful’ transfer of power the last time he appointed himself as this country's savior?”

[- Prognosis -]

Sunday morning we arrived at the hospital, and after nearly two hours of waiting, Jenny was allowed, with Gary, to stand outside Denise’s room and look in on her. I felt cheated that I couldn’t go with her for support, and when she finally returned to the hallway I was standing in, she about knocked me over when she rushed to get in my arms.

“It’s… It’s so bad… She looks white, like…,” she began sobbing even harder and stopped speaking.

I held her and watched Gary standing nearby, wondering what his problem was.

“Easy… This is to be expected, right? Sara said she was going to need time to heal, kiddo…,” I said softly.

“Naanot… riiight… Daaadd,” she sobbed into my chest.

“I know… We need to stay strong…”

“Her hair… It’s… gone…. And there’s like… I can’t do this,” she said and shuddered in my arms through another bout of sobs. “Home… I… Can we go?”

“Let me talk to Gary real quick…”

I left her standing near a water fountain and made my way to Gray. He didn’t look to be his usual smug self, which I needed after trying to calm Jen down.

“Sounds like that wasn’t a good thing for her to see,” I said.

“Yeah, probably not… Jenkins said she had a seizure last night, some heart arrhythmia, and the MRI they did last night shows there’s a small amount of the tumor still there.”

“Do they want to go back in?”

“They can, but the swelling is keeping them from doing that. He said there’s a radiosurgery or something like that. Basically, they’d put her skull back and use a ‘Gamma Knife’ to blast what they missed?”

Gary didn’t seem sure of any of that, but I knew I could ask Sara about it.

“Did she regain consciousness?” I asked.

“Couple times… Asked to see Jenny, but was out right afterwards.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m not… I really don’t know. It sounds like the radiosurgery thing is the best option for minimizing any more damage to her,” Gary began saying, but paused because he was getting emotional. “She’s not going to be the same after this no matter what I decide.”

“I’m really sorry…,” I said and watched him turn and walk away defeated.

[- Confirmations -]

Thursday was a good day all around.

Jen had been in a better mood after she went to visit Denise at the hospital. She was allowed into the ICU for a couple of minutes to be physically by Denise’s side—rather than standing outside her room and only being able to see her through a large window. She was an emotional wreck after being able to do that but did get a chance to hold her mom’s hand and tell her she loved her. By all accounts it had been a one-sided conversation, but Denise had been able to say she loved her back, and that had certainly buoyed Jen’s spirits.

Gary had shared with me he’d approved the Gamma Knife option to further Denise’s care while Jen was in the ICU with her. We hadn’t done more than acknowledge each other’s presence to that point since our setting of ‘fuck you’ mandates Sunday. He explained that the cranioplasty to fuse her skull back in place went as expected, which I already knew, and Doctor Jenkins had put her on the schedule for the Gamma Knife procedure Saturday morning. Sara had told me the surgery wasn’t an actual surgery but actually the focusing of beams of radiation at the brain to destroy or shrink tumors.

“Is a week enough time for her to recover and be ready for that kind of thing?”

“The cranioplasty wouldn’t have happened if the swelling hadn’t decreased, and since that’s held through post-op, Jenkins doesn’t want to waste any time cleaning up what they couldn’t get the first time around,” Sara explained.

There was hope, and I got more on a call I’d received while at my office midday.

“Hey Lance… What’s the word?”

“The decree modification for Jenny’s custody was signed off by Judge Rainey today. Officially recorded by tomorrow end of day,” he replied.

“That is good news, thanks dude!”

“No problem… How’s Denise doing?”

I explained how she was doing, he asked a few questions, and I eventually spun the conversation back to the wildcard in all of this.

“So, legally I get to keep Jen since Denise is incapacitated, right?”

“That’s how it was written up, an addendum to the standard five/two split in days of custody that says the parent has to be physically / mentally capable of Jenny’s care or it defaults to the other parent. If you have any issue with Gary not accepting any of that, tell him to reach out to Wayne. Don’t waste your time trying to explain it,” Lance coached.

“Understood…”

[- News -]

Gary had pushed me, and as I was trying to recover from the shove, I saw my fist being swung at him. I’d missed, but someone was calling me… Sara?

“Brad?”

Someone had said my name while shaking me gently. Sara?

I could hear my cellphone ringing and got my hand on it, fumbled to answer it, and draped my forearm over my eyes when I got it to my ear.

“Uh?”

There was silence, and it stretched way too long. I turned my head to look at my alarm clock, and it said 3:16 AM—who was… Fuck! I looked at my phone to see who it was and saw Gary’s name.

“What’s happened?” I asked now, fully awake and beginning to sit up, throwing my legs over the side of the bed.

The silence continued…

“Is Denise alright, Gary? Just tell me,” I asked as calmly as I could.

“She’s… She’s gone… Can you let Jenny know?” Gary asked.

“Fuck… I’m so sorry… Yeah, I can… Where are you?”

“At the hospital…”

“Alright, I… Look, if there’s anything I can do… Right…,” I stammered.

“Sure… I need to make some other calls,” he replied, sounding numb, and the line went dead.

I looked at my phone, felt Sara crawling next to me, felt her hand on my shoulder, and I broke down right after telling her that Denise had passed.

[- Ache -]

It took me ten minutes to regain my composure enough to speak a full sentence. In that time Sara had just held me quietly, and I eventually was able to apologize for having lost it.

“I understand… It’s to be expected; don’t ever hide how you feel from me, okay…,” Sara had said. “If you felt nothing, I’d be worried about the man I love...”

Her saying that, of course, broke me, and I ended up sobbing some more. When I’d think about having to tell Jenny her mom had died, that’s when I really felt the depths of those cracks in my heart. After an hour of wallowing in grief and pain, I stood and headed into the bathroom, closing the door behind me so I could piss.

I exited to find Sara dressed in sweats and a baggy sweatshirt. She’d pulled her hair back with a scrunchie and came over to take my hand.

“I’ll come with you…,” she said softly.

I nodded and started for the bedroom door.

“You should put some clothes on, sweetie…”

I stopped dead in my tracks, turning to head for my closet instead of the bedroom door. Showing up to Jen’s room wearing just my boxer briefs probably wasn’t a good idea. I needed to get my shit together and quick. I tossed on sweats and a t-shirt, exited my closet, took Sara’s hand, and headed to Jen’s room.

“Jen…”

“Whaa?” She croaked.

“Gary just called…” I didn’t finish before she screamed at me in anguish as to Denise being alright.

The look on my face, the tears streaming down my face, and that I could barely look at her was the only answer I could give, and that’s how she knew her mother was gone.

The three of us were crying, hugging, and unable to speak for a long, long time…

[- Hope -]

The death of a loved one, at any time, can be a traumatic experience. When that death is the mother of your child, it raises to a level you’ve got no chance of being able to cope with gracefully or have the power to unburden your child from their grief. Add to that passing it being in the month of December, with a couple of gifts having been purchased by your child for her mother—yeah, might as well try cutting my heart out with a screwdriver.

Nothing about Christmas or New Year's going forward would ever be the same for Jenny. This time of year would forever be a reminder to her that her mom left her and God wasn’t being fair for taking her.

Denise had wanted to be cremated, so when that was possible, Gary had made that happen. There was a small memorial held on December 28th that Jen and I attended. I knew many of the people who’d been invited and got the distinct impression everyone knew I was dating Sara. The sideways glances, the looks of disdain, and even the whispers were on full display and couldn’t be missed.

Jen had noticed one woman giving me a look and had barked at her, “What’s your problem?!”

I had to drag her out of the small reception after that to keep her from railing on people who were treating us like we were screwed up. The entire ride home she’d complained about Gary and not ever wanting to see him again. She had good reason for being angry at him. Not just for sprinkling his hate amongst those attendees to the memorial, but because he’d been a pain to work with when we moved Jenny completely out of Denise’s house.

Added to those issues, he was purposely withholding items that belonged to Denise that were supposed to be passed down to her. They were mostly pieces of jewelry I’d bought Denise while we were married, and while not crazy extravagant or pricey, the sentimental value was priceless. Denise had told Jenny she’d get those few items, but they weren’t specifically called out in her will—not that either of us was allowed to see it.

When I’d confronted Gary about those couple of items Jen recalled Denise wanted her to have, he said he hadn’t found them but would keep an eye out for them. When Jenny found out he couldn’t find those pieces of jewelry, there was a long bout of screaming at him on the phone. I’d let her have that release and she’d given it to him without mercy.

He hadn’t changed his tune since Denise’s passing, and nothing either of us could do was budging him or could change that.

Jenny had thought she could go over to the house while he was at work to retrieve those items Denise had promised her last week without my knowledge. It was a failed attempt to right a wrong because he’d changed the locks. Her frustrated call to me while I was at work went on for five minutes straight, and she pretty much used every swear word out there multiple times. I let her have that moment without my usual complaint about her choices of words.

I had told her the sooner she let it go, the better off she’d be. I feared this continued picking at that scab of losing her mom was going to keep this nightmare fresh in her mind and would make it tougher for her to get over. I’d suggested her seeing someone to unload her feelings, but she refused. I hadn’t pressed, though I knew it was the right thing for her, and figured it was an idea we could loop back to later if she seemed troubled or slipped into any depressed state.

I was so worried about her it took a week for me to notice a routine had been happening right under my nose. Sara had been getting off of work earlier since Denise passed, and by the time I got home from work, she and Jen were either sitting quietly talking, laughing while watching some TikTok video, cooking together, shopping for Christmas presents online, or a few times dancing in the living room with the music loud enough I could hear it down the hall from my condo's front door!

My best friend had been quietly working behind the scenes to help ensure Jenny wasn’t going to slip off the rails. She hadn’t mentioned she was going to do that; she just did it, and I’d missed it for at least a week. There’d been no complaints about me not giving her my full attention, just her loving me enough to care about Jen as much as I did…

Finally alone and in bed together, I was intent on thanking her, though embarrassed it took so long to realize it was happening.

“You’re kind of sneaky.”

“Oh, come on! You did not taste the onions we chopped up fine and put in the spaghetti sauce,” Sara complained.

“You put onions in the sauce?” I asked, confused.

“Yeah, and there’s no way you could tell! I’m not buying it… Did Jenny tell you?”

“You know I don’t like onions… Jen knows that too.”

“Umhuh, didn’t you see her watching you during dinner?”

“No… I mean no more than usual.”

“Well, you ate onions, and they didn’t kill you,” she said with a little giggle and kissed my cheek.

“You know that’s not what I was talking about, right?”

“Oookay… What did I do?”

“You’ve been keeping an eye on Jenny,” I said, hugging her.

“You’re just noticing that?”

“No… Okay, maybe... I’ve been so wrapped up in her mental health I feel like I’ve taken you for granted,” I said a little mousey-like.

“Oh really? And how are you going to make it up to me?” She replied seductively.

“Wait,” I said as her hands began to wander around my waist. “I wanted to thank you for doing that, helping her get over… You know…”

“She’s not over anything, Brad. I’m just listening to her, trying to keep her world moving in those sixteen-year-old girl directions, know what I mean?”

“Yeah… I’m talking to her; did she say I wasn’t?” I asked worriedly.

“No… But she’s not fragile china; consider that when you’re talking to her.”

“Did I say something wrong?”

“How about an example?”

“So I did say something?”

“No, but kind of… Like, I’ve heard you ask about her seeing a counselor three times in the last five days. What’s her answer been? No, right? Slow that request down; I don’t see her wanting to do that. Look,” she said, putting a hand on my cheek, “I offered to hook her up with my counselor once; she said no, so I haven’t asked again. She knows what she needs right now, knows we’ll help her if she asks… That’s my read on her, if that helps.”

“She’s only sixteen though, and grief… I mean, if you don’t deal with it, it’ll smack you hard later in life,” I complained.

“I know that, my dad died when I was young, I told you that. Even when I thought I was cried out, I wasn’t. Losing a parent will always be there.”

“I just worry about her…”

“You don’t think she’s dealing with it?”

“I… Some of it, maybe…”

“You letting her yell at Gary—that was liberating for her. She told me she was surprised you’d let her do that, and I think it cleared a lot of crazy she’d been feeling about how he treated Denise. That was the right thing to do.”

“She never told me that…”

“She’s going to tell us different things, and I’ll loop you in one hundred percent if it’s important for you to know as her dad. I’m sure she tells you stuff I’m not privy to…”

“Like what?” I’d asked but knew that was a stupid question.

“I wouldn’t know,” she said, giggling.

“Guess that was dumb… So, are we good?”

“We could be better,” she said, getting a leg over my waist and after climbing on top of me leaned down to kiss me.

“No… I’m serious, Sara, we’re good, right?”

“We are,” she said, kissing me again and nibbling on my earlobe—which she knew drove me crazy. “And if Jenny asks to go to Aaron’s house for a New Year’s party his parents are throwing, you might want to just say yes…”

I could feel her reaching between our bodies, grabbing my…

[- New Hope -]

Me: Good morning.

Jen: Z’up?

Me: Any chance you can come to my office this afternoon?

Jen: Okay? Something wrong?

Me: No, want to run something by you?

Jen: K—hint? Can’t it wait until you get home?

Me: Involves Sara—so no.

Jen: *smiley face emoji*

I could hear Hailey talking to Jen out in the lobby and decided to save her from all the ‘I haven’t seen you in…’ and ‘I’m so sorry about your mom…’ conversations that were bound to take place. Hailey had been with the firm for years and kept this place running efficiently, but she could talk your ear off if you let her get going.

“Come on back, Jen,” I called from my office door and could see on Jen’s face I’d made the right choice saving her from Hailey.

After she’d hugged me and entered my office, grabbing a seat, I closed the door. When I got to my desk and sat, she was all smiles.

“What?” I asked.

“Yes…”

“Yes, what?”

“I think you’re going to ask me something, and I’m going to say yes…”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, you said I was here to talk about Sara, right?”

“I did… What do you think I’d want to ask you about her?” I asked, smiling.

“I’m not sure, but I’m sure if it’s what I’m thinking, I’m going to like it… So, yes!”

“Okay… I’d like to get away with her to someplace warm and was wondering if you’d be alright with Nana and Papa coming up to stay with you while we’re away.”

She looked instantly deflated.

“Not what you were expecting?” I asked.

“Yeah, no… You’re going on vacation?” She asked, sounding a bit pouty about it.

I smiled back at her.

“Wait, you’re kidding, right?”

“Well, partly… I’d need my parents here to keep an eye on you if I were on, say, a honeymoon or…,” I didn’t get to finish that sentence because she was rushing to my side of the desk, tears flowing and sobbing—though smiling ear to ear as she hugged me tight.

I waited for her to wipe her tears away with a tissue I’d supplied before asking, “So you’re good with me asking Sara to marry me?”

“God! Yes! About time, Daaaad!”

“Yeah, well, when you know, you know, I guess…”

“Mmhuh! And some people have known for a while! Geesh, Dad!”

“I never claimed to be the brightest bulb, kiddo.”

“Seriously…”

“Any chance you’d want to help me shop for a ring?”

There was a fresh round of tears, a hug so tight I thought she’d break me in two, and excited confirmation she’d love to help with that.

“When are you going to ask her?” she asked.

“New Year’s…”

“Ooo… Tomorrow?” She asked, surprised.

“Yup… New Year’s…”

She looked to be thinking about something and asked, “So, that’s like something you should do alone, yeah?”

“I wouldn’t mind it if you were around,” I said, knowing what was likely coming.

“No… That’s like a romantic thing! You need to make it special, memorable,” Jen complained.

“Okay…,” I said, hoping she’d get to the request I knew she wanted to make and help making asking Sara romantic.

“Aaron’s parents are having a New Year’s party. I… I could go so I’d be out of your hair?”

“I think we could make that happen…”

I was grabbed again, hugged, and definitely had a happy daughter in my arms.

[- Beneficiary -]

The markets were a crapshoot on any given year-end day they were open. Today was no different, and I wasn’t surprised with the rough start. What I was surprised with was the call I’d gotten right after the markets opened.

“Brad?”

“What do you want, Gary?”

“I’m looking at some paperwork on a self-directed IRA Denise has with your firm; are you still managing it?” he asked.

“I am,” I replied, suspecting the reason for the call and surprised it hadn’t come sooner.

“The statement I’m looking at for last quarter shows it’s in excess of two hundred thousand, is that right?”

“I’m not at liberty to discuss client’s accounts without their permission; I’m sure you know that.”

“Cut the crap, Brad. You know full well everything that was Denise’s transfers over to me. I’m calling to get that account transferred out from under you ‘stewardship’; don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“I’m not, and Denise’s account can’t be transferred to you because she stipulated the beneficiary through something called POD—Payable on Death. You weren’t who the money was transferred to,” I replied with a certain amount of satisfaction.

“Quick fucking with me, Brad. There’s no way I’m letting you get a payday off of her IRA because she forgot to change some form to name me,” he complained.

“It wasn’t me she named; it was Jenny. And I’ll be happy to meet you in court to argue this, though I will warn you right now—the POD-designated beneficiary prevails over any will or estate concerns.”

“Fuck you, Brad!”

I didn’t get a chance to reply before he hung up on me. Likely the last time we’d ever need to talk to one another. Asshat!

[- Blessing -]

“Brad? What are you doing here?”

“Hey Carol,” I replied as she hugged me. “I was wondering if you’ve got a minute.”

“Of course, of course,” she said and looked to the secretary in the little lobby of her office to say, “Alisa, hold my calls.”

“Yes, Mrs. Connelly… You’ve got that meeting with finance at four,” Alisa replied.

“Thank you… Brad, come in, come in,” Carol said, ushering me into her office at the Port of Boston. “What can I do for you?” she asked after closing her door.

“This’ll be quick, but… Yeah, I… Well, I’m here to say that I love your daughter and… I’m asking permission to marry Sara, to get your blessing,” I said nervously.

It was obviously not what she was expecting, but she was smiling, and after the initial shock, there were tears forming in her eyes. We hadn’t sat; we were still standing inside the door to her office, and she was quick to grab me into a hug.

“I would absolutely love you and Jenny to be permanent fixtures in Sara’s life,” she said, kissing my cheek and wiping at those tears. “Yes, yes! A hundred times over, yes!”

[- Proposal -]

As soon as we’d dropped Jen off at Aaron’s house for the New Year’s party, Sara asked, “Does she seem really nervous to you?”

“Maybe a little? I wish she’d have worn a different pair of jeans, but I guess the blown-out knees thing is still in ‘style’ these days.”

There was a giggle, followed by her saying, “It is, and complaining at her wouldn’t have been worth the effort.”

“Figured, that’s why I didn’t say anything,” I said, turning left instead of right at the main boulevard outside of Temple’s, Denise’s also, neighborhood.

“Are we going somewhere?” Sara asked.

“Yeah, quick stop on the way home; it shouldn’t take but a minute. I promise we’ll be sitting on the couch watching the Seacrest ball drop on the TV soon enough.”

Generic conversation about nothing in particular followed, and ten minutes later we were pulling into the parking lot at Café Duro.

“What are we doing here?”

“I left my credit card here this morning and asked Megan if I could swing by and get it.”

“Brad! It’s like an hour after she should have closed this place up… Couldn’t you have waited until tomorrow? She’d told me she was going to open tomorrow at the usual time.”

“I’m not going into the office tomorrow, the markets are closed…”

“Oh really? So we could sleep in?”

“Something like that,” I replied, smiling and getting out of the car.

When we were at the front door, I tried pulling it open, but it was locked. I knocked. The lights were on, but there wasn’t anyone inside that we could see. A minute of waiting, and my nerves got the better of me—I reached into my pocket, removed a key, and opened the door—much to the surprise of Sara standing there with me.

“How do you have a key?” she asked, confused.

“Meg gave it to me… Come on,” I said, holding the door open for her, but she wasn’t moving. “It’s alright, really, Megan knows we’re here.” I said, and she finally stepped inside.

I turned to lock the door behind us and guided her over to our usual table. She sat without having to be coaxed.

“Brad? We shouldn’t be in here… What’s going on? Does Megan really know we’re…”

I was moving to get down on one knee, pulling the ring box from my jacket pocket, and looked at a very stunned woman sitting in front of me, not appearing to be breathing, and totally about to lose her mind.

“I’m positive I fell in love with you the moment I first saw you, and I can’t imagine a day without you in my life,” I said and opened the ring box. “Will you marry me?”

Tackled to the floor, because I wasn’t expecting her to rush me like that, we were entwined and trying to right ourselves, to hug one another, to kiss, and wipe the joyous tears from our eyes. I heard the word ‘yes’ too many times to count, was kissed just as many, and knew nothing about my routine life would ever be the same with this amazing woman by my side.

[*-- Epilog --*]

While there was much to be celebrated after Sara had accepted my proposal, she was concerned in the days that followed. The president-elect wasn’t shy about making his craziness known to the masses. In particular, his desire to trample Trans rights and acknowledgment that someone could even be Trans. The early rhetoric and posturing by his forming cabinet had been made abundantly clear—trouble was coming.

Not that we had to worry that Massachusetts was going to flip ‘red’ any time soon, but we’d decided we were going to gum up the process of wiping out Sara’s existence by becoming officially wed before the inauguration. Did we have the ideal amount of time to plan the small service, get the paperwork lined up, purchase a beautiful dress, have an impromptu bachelor / bachelorette party, and book a small venue for a reception? Barely…

On January 18th, 2025, four months after our first meeting, Sara and I made it official. We were wished much love and prosperity by those who joined us in celebrating our union. Sara and I, along with all our allies, wished anyone out there who thought they could erase us both the best of luck. We were doing something to break the routine of ‘hate’ sweeping our country. It was just the beginning of our resistance against the ignorant…

FIN

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Rachel M. Moore