Tommy sat at the kitchen table at his sister’s house, surrounded by six women; seven if you count his baby niece Deedee, who was tugging on her uncle’s sleeve.
Please excuse the following descriptors of masculine pronouns, nouns, along with Tommy’s given name. Lainey and April and Diane had only just learned about Tommy’s secret. They closed the store early; if ever there was a family emergency, this was it.
Michelle, Diane’s wife, met the girls at the house after closing her gallery early. She finally sold her first painting (all of her other work had been done before she transitioned from her male self to Michelle). The painting was a spectacular acrylic of two sisters holding hands. The sale brought in more than enough to close early, but she would have left early even if she hadn’t sold anything.
She was new to the “grandmother” business, having been a father and grandfather for fifty of her fifty-two years, and the grandchild she saw most was really an adoptee; the daughter of her wife’s two friends, Lainey and April. But Diane needed her support and wisdom, since Michelle had gone through her own experience of family crisis when her older daughter Barbara rejected her younger daughter Charlie, whose partner Beth was a post-op girl, as if that should have made a difference. But Michelle was first and foremost a caring and insightful parent, and she would provide Tommy with her own perspective.

“There’s four bedrooms, and only two are being used by April and me and Deedee.”
Terri and Joey were still recovering financially from their own setbacks, but they still lived with April and Lainey more because of their friendship and the continued healing they received from their friends and new-found faith in God. And the two girls were married less than a year, making them newlyweds.
“So you must come live with us,” Lainey said. Lainey had never really had been given a chance to be a big brother to Tommy when she lived at home, so she quite understandably and deservedly relished the idea of being a big sister.

Everyone in the room apart from Deedee of course had experienced the same ostracism that Tommy feared, and all of them were prepared to walk with him through his conflict.
Michelle stood over the boy, her hands firmly on his shoulders. What she said next almost sounded like fatherly advice, but really while she had been a good father to her own daughters growing up, it was by being a supportive and loving parent. The fact that she was wearing cream-colored slacks and a mauve sleeveless top also belied any perception or hint of her former male self.
“I’m sorry to say, but the one good thing in all of this is probably going to be the most painful. Since they disavowed Lainey for daring to assert her own self, your mom and dad will likely treat you the same way. They probably won’t resist when you explain why you want to move over here.” Her words sounded harsh, but she massaged Tommy’s shoulders as she began to weep softly for this poor boy.
Diane stood up and walked over to Tommy. She had noticed he hadn’t eaten a thing during dinner; she noted that he didn’t look at all healthy. She wondered if he had an ulcer (he did) and he looked as if he had lost a considerable amount of weight recently.
She kissed Michelle on the cheek softly and took Tommy’s hands in her own, gently urging him to stand up. Not to be crude, but you may remember being so sick that the only thing that helped was to throw up; vomiting out whatever made you sick. It felt horrible, but keeping it in felt so much worse. Tommy had been crying almost non-stop from the time they arrived at the house until dinner; almost three hours. But he still needed desperately to get some things out, which would be coaxed out gently by the firm hug that Diane gave him. She kissed him repeatedly, evoking painful tears which came in cascades down his already tear-stained cheeks to mix with the loving tears of someone he had only just met.

You probably know someone like Diane. A word or a gesture that would seem almost meaningless from someone else coming from Diane would provide the permission you didn’t even know you had sought to talk; to cry; to confess…
She patted the boy repeatedly on the back as years of shame and guilt flowed like a torrent of water through a broken dam. And while he obviously hadn’t changed physically, his true self slowly began to emerge; the frightened girl they had only met just hours before.
“Taryn, honey, it’s okay. I know it hurts, sweetheart. It’s okay, you can let go.” She rubbed the newly-transformed girl’s neck; much like your mother might have done when you came home after being hurt by a bully or if your friends had said unkind words.
Lainey stood up by her sister, which would have appeared almost ludicrous, because her “little” sister stood almost a head taller than her and was not at all dressed as the sister she actually was.
Taryn looked at Lainey with almost pleading eyes and said haltingly through her sobs,
“Why did you go away, why did you leave me?”
Lainey grabbed Taryn’s hand, thinking back to that fateful day; a day that changed each sister’s life forever, although neither had any control over what happened, both before and after Lainey’s abrupt departure.

“Edward, listen to your father; he only wants what’s best for you,” Eddie’s mother said.
Eddie sat on the back deck of the house. His face was red with undue shame and too many weeks of crying. He tried to tell them, but no one would listen.
“Mom…it’s not like that. I’m not who you think I am…I’m Elaine.”
“Do not use that name. I forbid it.” She said it with sternly with an almost regal air, as if she held sovereignty or magical power.
“You are our son, and the sooner you accept that, the better everyone will be. And what does Carla think about all this…what do her parents think?” Helen Esposito was more interested in image. Truth be told, Carla really didn’t care if Eddie wanted to be Elaine, since she and Eddie were best friends; never really boyfriend and girlfriend; more like best girlfriends. But Carla wasn’t the real issue.
“Either way, it’s not right and you know it,” she snapped.
Some folks might have some strong opinions about what is right and what is wrong. That wasn’t the issue here either. That was a debate best left to someone else. The issue wasn’t even that Eddie wanted to lead his life…her life actually as Elaine. The issue was how her parents’ friends and fellow church members felt. What would ‘they” think? Frankly, a lot of people really never gave it much thought or care, and more people cared less about it anyway.
So here we have a seventeen-year-old girl being rejected by her parents; not even for what they actually believed, but for what someone else might say. It really wasn’t about Elaine; their middle child, the honor student in high school, and possibly one of the kindest, most sensitive kids you’d ever want to meet; a lovely child, caring and compassionate, forced to choose between her family and her sense of self.
Mrs. Esposito glared at her daughter, seeing only a disobedient and ungrateful son.
“We’re leaving in an hour for your grandmother’s for dinner. Your father says that if you put on something decent you may accompany us. If you don’t change, he wants you to be out of the house by the time we get home” Her voice was cold and emotionless.
“What do you say, mom? How do you feel about it?”
Years of velvet tyranny had turned his mother into almost a cipher who parroted everything her husband had to say. With no opinion of her own any longer, she rose from the steps, turned and began to walk away, simply saying,
“He’s my husband.” She looked back at her once again and said, “One hour.”

The family gathered at the front door, preparing to leave. Bobby, the oldest, wore slacks, a knit polo shirt, and a windbreaker. Mr. and Mrs. Esposito both were dressed in their Sunday finery. And Tommy, the youngest, wore his favorite Phillies jersey over a red Phillies tee shirt and jeans. Tommy looked back in surprise at the couch. Elaine looked up from her crossword magazine. Her long brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, revealing opal studs in her newly pierced ear lobes. Her burgundy cowl-neck sweater covered the bruises on her neck where Bobby had hit her only hours before. She wore a long denim skirt with a tattered fringe and brown cowgirl boots.
She tried to smile bravely, for brave she was. Her apparel had sealed her fate in the familial sense and she waited to be rejected; her fears borne out by the words her father uttered just moments ago.
“You made your choice, Edward. Now you may enjoy the consequences of your foolishness. You have sown the wind, now reap the whirl wind,” Her father took scripture out of context and used it to fatally wound, rather than heal his relationship with his daughter. Born in the hills outside of Palermo, Salvatore Esposito had come to America in his teens, making his mark in business and succeeding, but at the cost of his family. He was a driven man, and he treated his family like a cruel taskmaster would treat an employee.

Tommy stood at the door, wondering why his brother would defy his father like this, but there was something inside of him that cheered for Eddie. It was as if he was the only sane one in the family. Tommy would be torn apart from his own doubts and fears, but that would come later. He watched as his father stood in front of Eddie, looming over him more like an adversary than a father, but that was exactly what he was.
”By the time we get back, you will have had enough time to pack your things and leave. If I find you in the house when we return, I will call the police and have you arrested for delinquency and trespassing. I expect you will have left, and you need to know one thing. As of this moment you are no longer my son.” Her father sought to evoke some sort of response; he wished to make his daughter cry, and he continued, this time in Italian.

“Vi sono morti per me. Spero che lei putredine nell'inferno.
You are dead to me! I hope you rot in hell!"

Elaine didn’t know what he said, but by the tone and the almost evil look on her father’s face, she knew it had to be a curse. Mr. Esposito glared at this brave sad girl once again, who sat on the couch, unable to fight back the tears her father had hoped for.

”Non accetterá² mai vi. La vostra madre non saranno mai accettare che. Ho solo due figli ora. Non ho una figlia, solo una prostituta che si la famiglia!

I will never accept you. Your mother will never accept you. I have only two sons now. I have no daughter; only a slut who dishonors the family.

He glared back at her before walking out the door, calling, “Three hours!” He stepped into the night, leaving this precious child to weep sad tears alone, scared, fearing what her future held.