Saturday morning Avery awoke to the smell of bacon and eggs cooking. Mom was fixing a nice breakfast so, presumably, he would have a full stomach to make a full confession. When he went into the dining room, she put a full plate in front of him and inquired, “Can we talk after breakfast?”

He gave the only answer he felt would satisfy her, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Honey. You know ….” Her cell phone chimed. She looked at the screen and the blood went from her face. “Hello?”

A pause, then, “Speaking.”

Another pause. She sat down hard in her chair, “No!” Her voice cracked. She put her head down, her forehead in her free hand. “Yes, I’m …. Yes, I’ll …. Yes ... about a half-hour. Thank you.” She clicked her phone off and looked at Avery; her eyes were suddenly red as though she had been crying for hours. “Your dad died this morning.”

Avery felt his entire body start to go numb. Had he been standing, he would have fainted. He held tightly onto the table. “No! Mom! That can’t …. Oh, no … my daddy!” He covered his face with his hands. “God, please! My daddy! No, God.” He wanted to plead his dad’s case to God, but he didn’t know where to begin. No one had ever said to him the words, ‘Your dad died,’ and they didn’t make sense. “Mom, I can’t ....” He managed to stand up and stumble over to his mom. She also stood and placed his head on her shoulder as he began to sob. “What are we gonna do, Mom?” Avery was a kid. Mom was an adult. Surely, she had a plan. Surely, she could make this not happen! His dad had six months! It’s not fair! The doctor promised! He closed his eyes tightly and saw his dad’s smiling face, but it offered no comfort. It only made the pain nearly unbearable. “My daddy! I wanted …. I wanted to tell him …. He was …. He was….” His mom was weeping also, but she seemed to be in control. She felt she had to appear to be in control for Avery’s sake. They couldn’t both be helpless.

“Avery, your dad loved you, and he knew you loved him! You made him proud at the game last night.”

Avery recovered somewhat. “Mom, is it a mistake? Hospitals make mistakes!”

“I’m sorry, Honey, it’s no mistake. You’re going through denial. It’s the first step of grieving. Your dad died of a massive heart attack.”

“Mom, he said it would be less than six months, but I didn’t think ….”

“He didn’t know, Avery. Your dad felt like it would be quicker, but I’m sure he didn’t think it would be this quickly.”

“Mom, we can’t do without Dad!”

“Avery, we’re always going to miss him, but your dad made sure we would be OK financially. He took care of insurance and everything else. He loved us that much. He was a good husband and a good dad.”

“Oh, Mom, I’m sorry I didn’t want to play football when he wanted me to so bad!”

“But, you did play, and he was proud of you for that! Avery, at a time like this, it’s natural to have regrets. You realize that there are things you wanted to tell him; ‘I love you’ is usually first on the list. You told him last night, and many times before that verbally and in other ways. He knew you loved him by the look in your eyes when he came home. He mentioned to me that when he came in the door you always smiled and said, ‘Hey, dad’.’ He said that was his favorite time of the day. Several times he told me that he wondered what he did to deserve such a beautiful, loving child. When you love someone, they will feel it. He felt your love for him, and he loved you unconditionally in return. Still, you were so lucky to have that talk with him last night and tell him ‘I love you’ one last time.”

“You gonna call Jeff?”

“I’ll call the school. They’ll have someone break the news to him. I’m going to tell them not to let him drive. I’ll arrange for him to fly home. He’s going to feel bad that he wasn’t here.”

“What am I gonna do now?”

“Come with me to the hospital. I don’t want to leave you here by yourself.”

“I don’t want to be here by myself. I don’t want to be anywhere.”

“I know you’re confused. You don’t know what to do. The grieving process is not pleasant. You’re very young to lose your dad. Remember, it’s OK to cry. There’s no need to try to hold back the tears. Get some clothes on real quick and let’s go.”

They got into the car and headed out. This was a different world for Avery; a world without his dad. They passed a pedestrian, and Avery thought, “Why should that guy have life and my father none?” Thousands of thoughts went through his mind and it wasn’t long until the tears resumed. His mom gave him a tissue, and he dried his face and blew his nose. Yes, it’s OK to cry, but he didn’t want to walk through the halls of the hospital sobbing.

His mom seemed to read his thoughts, “People who work at the hospital see a lot of crying. Don’t worry about it.”

His mom gave her name at the front desk and there was no waiting. The receptionist turned around partially and called, “Anna?” A nicely dressed young lady came from a nearby office. Avery thought about his friend by that name and realized he wanted to talk to her. Now was not the time, however, because “Hospital Anna” was going to escort his mom and him through the maze of offices, paperwork, and interviews that must be maneuvered. The hospital knew that without help, a person who was already disoriented from the grief of losing a loved one would hardly be able to find their way through the complex process.

Anna offered her condolences and they began the journey. Even with Anna’s help, it was about two hours before they could go home. Avery thought the hospital put a lot of effort into making sure they got paid. The cashier seemed tense, but relaxed and smiled when she saw that she wasn’t dealing with a deadbeat. Because his dad had handled things so well, his mom would not be struggling to pay off an enormous hospital bill.

Finally, Anna told them that everything was completed. She again offered condolences and asked them if they had any questions. When Katie assured her that they had no questions, Anna said, “goodbye” and Avery’s mom thanked her and complimented her on how well she handled everything. Avery also thought she did a remarkable job. He figured that the hospital must have screened carefully to find a person suitable for this task. It was, after all, a difficult task, requiring a tactful person with a pleasant personality and a lot of patience.

When they got in the car to head home, Katie got on her phone and called Jeff’s school and told them what had happened. They would call Jeff in and tell him, and book a flight for him and send her a bill for the airfare. She clicked her phone and hung up. “Feeling better, Honey?”

“A little better, how about you, Mom?”

“I’ll make it, Honey. Do you want to call your friends?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll call in a few minutes. I’d hate to break down in the middle of a phone call. Maybe I’ll rest a little when we get home.” Actually, he wanted to wait so he could talk to his friends in private. He wasn’t concealing anything; he just liked his privacy.

They arrived at home and Avery’s mom told him, “Go rest a bit. I’m going to try to rest a little myself.”

Avery lay across his bed and thought about the last words he heard his dad utter, “my beautiful daughter”. How could he possibly know? He couldn’t know! This secret was so well concealed … well … he couldn’t know! Did Mom know? Suddenly, Avery knew why his mom was so adamant that they talk. Of course, she couldn’t know either. He smiled as he thought, “They couldn’t know … I barely know!” He realized there was a fact that he had to acknowledge; his dad knew and his mom knows. His mom would probably tell him where they got their information. Wait! He didn’t have to ask her! History! His parents gave him a computer with the requirement that they had the password! One of them looked at the “history” of his web browser. They would have found extensive searching for “sex change”, “gender change”, “male to female”, and the like. They would see the stories about cross-dressing and gender reassignment on “Big Closet”. He felt stupid. He could have easily erased those sites on his “history”. They wanted his password so they could make sure he wasn’t going to porn sites or possibly endangering himself by being careless with his personal information. He knew, of course, that there was no problem there, but as time passed he got careless. He thought that they would check things out when he first got the computer, find no problems, and see no need to continue monitoring.

Now, he realized that he may as well have announced at the dinner table, “Mom, Dad, I’m sick of trying to fit in as a boy. I’ve been researching the issue on the web and I want to get a sex-change.” He wondered why they didn’t confront him about the issue; to give him enough rope to hang himself? It didn’t matter. His mom wanted to “talk” and now he knew the subject. He was OK when he didn’t know they were onto him, but now he didn’t know if he could even face his mom. A boy wanting to be a girl was the subject of ridicule, jokes, even violence. It seemed like the idea was distasteful to everybody, and he had to explain to his mom why he was researching the issue on the web. That’s it!; A research paper for school! He was certain that she wouldn’t buy it for one second. She would look at him and say, “Really!”

Her “Really” would not be a question. It would not mean “Really? Oh, that’s what you were doing; I see!” It would mean, “Really! You can’t be thinking I’m gonna buy that!” He was trapped! He would have to say, “OK, Mom, you got me … I’m just a big thissy!” At the thought of himself saying that with a limp wrist he had to smile. Well, he either had to laugh or cry, and he was pretty sure his inventory of tears was depleted. He decided that he had to just get ready for the pain and be honest. How would he tell her? Ah! He would let her ask questions and he would answer honestly. Wait. Dammit! Yes, honestly! He would take his punishment. What? Grounded for life? Forced to go to the store in a dress? No, his mom would not submit him to humiliation. There was nothing he could do, but wait until his mom decided “talking” time was here.

Avery lay down and was able to sleep just a couple of hours. The rest of the day, He was barely functional. He would start working on something only to lose interest. Scenes of him with his dad kept coming back to his mind. Finally, he gave up, went back to bed, closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep.