He looks down at his hands as they twist together. “You know, there was this one philosophy class I took about sex and love, and we were having a discussion about what constitutes a family. And we got on the topic of adopting children. I got into this heated exchange with this girl who said race doesn’t matter; all that matters is if the parents love their kid. And I’ve heard this bullshit for so much of my life. People act like my feelings aren’t valid. That I should be grateful for what I’ve been given. But I just want to feel seen. I want to feel like I belong.”
There’s a moment of silence as what he admits settles between us. When he finally looks at me, his deep, earthy eyes looking sorrowful, I give him a sad smile. “I see you, Jay.”
Giving me a lopsided grin, he nods. “Thanks.”
“If I ever say anything offensive or insensitive, will you please call me out on it? I want to make sure I’m helping, not hurting.”
He looks a little stunned, but he says, “Yeah, I can do that. It would be nice if everyone had that attitude.”
“So, have you ever tried tracking down your biological parents? Or doing one of those DNA tests?”
“No, I haven’t. Honestly, I don’t know how I feel about that yet. I wrestle with a lot of feelings around this, and I’m torn. I think it’s best that I don’t make that decision before I’m totally confident in doing so.”
“Do your parents know about all of this? About your feelings?”
Jay shakes his head quickly. “No. They've always been so blatantly colorblind that for a large part of my life, I let their belief be mine. That I should be happy with the life and the friends I have. And now it’s been so long that I’ve never brought this up to them, that I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to.”
Wow. This is a whole new layer to Jay I’ve never seen. And from the way he talks, not many people have seen it, either. I know this is his moment, but I can’t help feeling special because he trusts me enough to tell me this. That he feels safe enough to tell me this. Jay has a lot of friends—some I’ve met, but I know there are many others I haven’t. The fact that he doesn’t feel like he can open up to those friends, but he can with me? Well, it fills me with pride.
“If you ever want to tell your parents, I’ll be here for you, man.”
Jay leans forward to grab his carton and sits back with a smile. “Thanks, Marco. Oh, by the way, my mom wants me to bring you over for dinner this week. She said she’s making shepherd’s pie for you.”
I groan, “You never told her I didn’t like it, did you?”
“No,” he laughs. “Maybe you shouldn’t have had two more helpings and told her it was delicious.”
“I was being polite!”
“Polite is stomaching one piece! Eating three servings and telling her it was delicious is taking it too far. You’re on your own, dude.”
Three months later, I’m packing up my room at Rebecca’s. I make my way downstairs to find Jay holding Viera as Bec and Vinny finish loading their car to take me back to base. Yet another year-long deployment awaits me.
It feels like I’ve been dragging my feet the last week or so, knowing today was imminent. The past few months have been life changing. Nothing in particular happened to me, but I feel this seismic shift in my well-being. My friendship with Jay is changing me. But am I really changing? Or has Jay just unearthed my true self? Maybe that’s it. It’s like he’s letting me shed this thick, disgusting, painful exterior, exposing the real me.
He asks me questions that take me time to think about before answering.
He lets me work through my thoughts.
He makes me laugh harder than I thought possible. Everything is funnier with him.The Officereruns we watch together. The jokes his—nowour—friends make. The mundane observations we make—all find a place to live in my memory.
When I get to the main floor, I take Viera from him and hug them both, allowing myself this last moment to enjoy our closeness. To enjoy my new self, because in a minute, I’ll have to switch back to the hardened Army sergeant that has taken up the majority of my adult life.
“Thank you again for everything, Jay.”
Breaking apart, we smile at each other, and Viera reaches for him. “Way,” she cries the name she’s given him.
“I know, honey. I promise I’ll come over real soon, okay?” She latches herself back to his chest, and I smile. We’ve spent a lot of time with Viera recently, and she’s grown attached to him. “I’ll walk you both out,” Jay says, carrying her as I carry my bag.
I can see a peek of olive green at his neck from under a white v-neck sweater, but I say nothing. It’s the basic army undershirt I left at his place when I first started leave. At first, I left it there on purpose, just in case I ever spent the night there again. I didn’t tell him I did, and he’s never brought it up, but there have been a few times I’ve caught him wearing it—always under another shirt. Always hidden.
He sets her in her car seat as Vinny buckles her in, and I give Jay one last embrace—holding onto the only home I’ve ever felt. Leaving this home, this family, this community and purpose I now have, is wretchedly painful, because for once in my life, I’m welcomed and wanted for who I really am. When Jay told me about the struggle he has with his identity, I couldn’t help feeling more connected to him. What we struggle with is different, but in a way, the same. I don’t know if he knows it, but he has slowly been letting me remember myself. What I’m really like beneath the trauma. And I hope I can be that safe place for him to find himself too.
Chapter 22
The Hearing
Cora
