“Yes,” Izzy grunted. Then sighed. “No, sorry. I fucking hate the fact that I missed so much while being inside.”
“Oh?” Sam, who worked for Justin because he actually hadn’t gotten any jobs anywhere after his second college degree—yeah, go figure that—tilted his head curiously. “Anything specific on your mind?”
“What’s that word, when you’re not like a man or a woman? That new word they use everywhere?” Izzy tugged off a half-wilted leaf and frowned at it.
“Non-binary?”
“Yes!Thank you!” Izzy felt that rush of relief for now getting the annoyance off his mind. “I fucking swear I lost like fifteen years instead of four.”
“Well, times are changing much faster these days. People have more knowledge and there’s the internet and stuff. A lot of people find themselves later in life, too. I have an aunt in San Francisco who thought she was straight until she fell in love with this woman who moved next door. My aunt was over fifty at the time.”
Izzy turned to look at Sam. “What? Really?” At Sam’s smile and nod, Izzy said, “Huh. I know gay guys and I guess lesbians too who have been in straight relationships because they’re like hiding and stuff, but that’s news to me.”
“My aunt also knows this dude who was raised as a girl until he transitioned in his sixties. All I’m saying is that times are a changin’, my friend.” Sam chuckled, slapped Izzy’s shoulder, and moved on to whatever he’d been going to do next.
For the next hour or so, Izzy continued his task, his mental jukebox playing him some Bob Dylan and his brain whirring with thoughts on how to approach this thing.
He had to be back home in time for Morales to take another look at the car, so he couldn’t go see Wyatt after work. It felt horrible, leaving things like they were, but at least it also gave him enough time to go online for some research.
Insurance fraud guy, Thomas, was happy to loan him his laptop because “the quality of food in this house has gone up since you started to work at Abbot’s, Izzy.” That was one of the things Izzy hadn’t anticipated; the fact that bringing produce home meant that his housemates might feel more positively about his presence, not that he had any problems with them really.
Still, he used a couple of hours scouring the internet on gender identity and sexuality and stuff, and learned that gender, sex, and sexuality were three separate things.
The next day, as soon as his lunch break started, he headed toward the Abbot house.
On his way, he came across Lettie and her pack who were doing some sort of obedience training thing in an open area close to the yard.
“Hey, Lettie, doggos.” He nodded politely to them, but didn’t engage the dogs. They were working, after all.
“Hey, Izzy.” Lettie smiled but didn’t take her gaze off the German shepherd that was wiggling a little bit at the sight of him.
“Do you happen to know where I might find your brother?” Izzy asked, hoping that he sounded casual about it.
“Yeah, last time I saw him he was at Dad’s work kitchen. Dad’s not home so he’s borrowing it for something.”
“Okay, thanks!”
He walked toward and around the house, where he’d been shown the professional kitchen Del shot his videos in. The night of the family dinner had ended in Justin showing him around the house and property, and Izzy loved it all. It wasn’t his style, homey as it was, or it wasn’t what he’d chosen for himself if he’d been rich, anyway.
He’d want a Spanish style house, something smaller with terracotta tiles and stuff. Those were so pretty to him for some reason.
Izzy opened the house to the studio building quietly, hoping that Wyatt was alone. He heard some sounds from the kitchen area and walked carefully to peer through the half-open door.
Wyatt’s hair was in the usual bun again. There was no eyeliner this time, and he was wearing a simple plain T-shirt under his utilitarian dark gray apron. He looked as though he were concentrating, but the way he moved wasn’t fluid, which Izzy would’ve normally expected.
He was piping a cake, carefully moving his hands and frowning when the frosting went wrong in a way Izzy couldn’t see from this distance.
“Wyatt, can we talk?” he asked quietly when he was sure he wouldn’t interrupt Wyatt’s work too badly.
Wyatt jumped and the bag of frosting fell onto the island right next to the cake. Izzy winced. At least it didn’t hit the cake, though.
“Why?” Wyatt asked, the one word sounding small somehow.
“Because I was horrible to you yesterday, and I want to make things right, okay?” Izzy walked closer slowly, as if not to startle Wyatt any more. “Please? Not for my sake, but so you’ll know I’m not—” He stopped to lick his lips, trying to find the words. “I’m not asking you to give me rope here, that’s not your job, but I wanted you to know that I’ve been in prison for four years. I went there straight and I came out of there the same way. I just don’t know all the things I should, had I been out that whole time.”
Wyatt still didn’t look at him, but he was clearly listening. His hands clutched the countertop behind him, and Izzy slowly made his way around the island as he continued to speak.
“I did some research, actually. I’ve heard the word ‘non-binary’ since I got out. I just…I guess it was a knee jerk reaction to be an asshole. I didn’t actually think you were a girl.”
