Ava must have been born into my sister’s life not simply to drive her insane but also to be a constant reminder of yours truly.
She has inherited what I call the H3 gene in our family directly from me.
I tell her this.
“H3?”
“Humor plus heartbreak equals honesty,” I explain.
She finally looks up, tossing her hair over her slim shoulders.
“At least as a woman, I can’t inherit your T3.”
Ava meant this as a joke about my cancer staging, but I can see in her eyes she wants the words back as soon as they leave her mouth.
“It’s okay,” I say. “You’re just being honest.”
Sitting here in a drafty gown on an examining table, her joke hits, quite literally, a bit too close to home, especially considering my bare ass is stuck to the flimsy paper.
I wonder how much longer I will have any feeling whatsoever down south if I decide to go through with the surgery, which Ava has already insisted I should have. I walked her through the options the doctor provided as if she were Marcus Welby and not a high school girl with a secret penchant to shop at Claire’s Boutique.
Ava actually puts her phone down long enough to look me in the eye.
“Are you scared?”
I nod. “Yes.Reallyscared.” I gauge how honest to be with her. “It’s just that, for a huge part of my life, my... you know... little Teddy has defined my life as a gay man.”
“You know I’m seventeen, right?”
“Going on forty.” I roll my eyes. “Is it okay for me to talk to you like this? The only children I’ve ever really interacted with are the ones I try to frighten in the grocery store.”
“It is. It’s actually sorta sweet in a creepy way. Our family sweeps everything under the carpet.”
“You still have carpet?” I tsk. “That’s just tragic.”
Ava laughs. “Grandma hasn’t changed it since I was born. Dark brown, baby. Hides all the dirt.”
She’s funny, but I don’t laugh. Ava eyes me closely. “What’s on your mind, old man?”
“It’s just that...” my voice hitches “...I actually lost my desire to be intimate with anyone after John died. I don’t even see myself having sex with another man again. But this...” I gesture at what lies beneath my gown “...is all I have that defines me not just as a man but a gay man. Why should I bother to go on if the rest of my life is a never-ending ghost pain?”
“Maybe there is more to life than sex,” Ava suggests. “I mean, I can’t even imagine my grandmother having had sex.”
“That’s a great pep talk.”
“I’m serious,” she says. “You know, most of the time, I just want to talk to Gabe, lie on his chest when we watch TV or listen to him play his guitar. That’s sexy to me. Maybe you’ll find a man who you enjoy just being with.”
“There are no such gay men in existence.”
“Your friends,” she says. “You’re lucky, you know.” Ava smiles and continues. “There are treatments to help. I read all the material your doctor gave you, and I’ve been doing some research on my own.”
“I just feel so old, Ava.”
She shakes her head. “I know. And after all you’ve been through, that should be a blessing that makes you want to fight for your life, right?”
“When will I know if someone really loves me again?”
“You’ll know,” she says. “A reason to fight for the life you have and the love you want will slap you in the face, I guarantee it.”
