“It’s fine.” Vic crossed their arms and leaned against the counter. “I was born female, which means I was evaluated at seventeen like every other woman. It doesn’t matter that I’ve always known I’m male. Not to the government and especially not when you have two working ovaries.”
“God, that sucks,” I said, and meant it.
“You’re telling me.” Vic let out a sound of derision. “If I wasn’t fertile, I would have been allowed to transition years ago, but since I am, I have to get through this before I can even think about taking hormones.”
“Wow. I never thought about it,” I said, even though it made perfect sense. The government wouldn’t let anyone who was fertile off the hook. It didn’t matter how much it affected them mentally.
“No one ever does,” Vic grumbled.
I shook myself, my cheeks hot with humiliation. “Oh, my God. I just did the exact same thing to you that everyone has been doing to me for years. Disregarded your circumstances. It always pisses me off, and I don’t want to be like that. I’m so sorry.”
Vic tilted their head, their eyes narrowed as if trying to work out if I wasbeing genuine, then finally smiled. “Apology accepted. Thanks.”
There was an awkward pause. “I mean it.” I laughed. “I’m going to do the totally hetero-normative thing and tell you my best friend is gay, which I know is awful and cliché, but it also happens to be true. I’m a supporter of the queer community, and I don’t want to ever come across as someone who isn’t.”
“I think what’s really cliché here is that you have a gay best friend,” Vic said, their eyes sparkling. “Is this a 1990s rom-com?”
“God, I wish,” I replied. “At least then I would know there was some kind of sappy happy ending to all this.”
They exhaled slowly, their mood sobering. “Yeah. That would be nice.”
“It would,” I murmured, letting out a sigh that matched Vic’s.
Minder Jane came into the kitchen just then, and seeing us doing nothing, put her hands on her hips. “Am I going to have to add yet another note to your file, Miss Murphy?”
“Nope.” I swallowed my sassy remark and waved to the immaculate kitchen. “We’re actually done here.”
Jane narrowed her eyes and looked around, and apparently not finding anything out of place, huffed. “Well, I’m sure the ladies in the dining room would appreciate your help since you’re all finished.”
I forced my smile to stretch wider even though it hurt. “I’d be happy to help.”
Like she was considering spitting on me, Jane pursed her lips. “I don’t appreciate the sarcasm, Miss Murphy.”
“I’m being totally genuine,” I replied, my words sugary sweet.
Jane said nothing but didn’t look convinced. Oh, well.
Vic eyed me as we headed into the dining room. “Man, she hates you.”
“I have that effect on people in the Department of Fertility.”
“You’re not alone in that,” Vic said. “Although, I don’t even have to open my mouth for people to hate me. One look is allthey need.”
I believed them.
Two days after arriving, and there was still no WIFI – and no word if or when it would be available – but Sergeant Collins made an announcement on our third morning that phones had finally been fixed. Just in time for me to call Trevor. People started reporting for their scheduled times right away, and even though we’d been told all calls would be monitored, no one was quite prepared for what that meant. I’d expected to be in a room with a soldier or maybe even Hilary listening, to maybe have the conversation recorded, but even that small amount of privacy was not on the list of the Department of Fertility’s priorities.
The calls were made on speaker phone at the front desk where everyone nearby could hear every word of the conversation, while a soldier stood beside you. He started by laying out the rules to both parties, then listened to everything that was said and put a stop to any questionable topic. It was as invasive as the procedures we were forced to undergo, but just like everything else about this program, we had literally no choice in the matter.
When it was my turn to call Trevor, I excitedly reported to the front desk with plenty of time to spare since I didn’t want to be late. Another woman was already there, her face streaked with tears as she listened to a little girl talk while the soldier stared her down.
“One minute, Mrs. Tipton,” he barked.
The woman’s eyes widened, and in a hurried voice she said, “Rose, honey, I’m going to have to go in a minute. I love you. Remember that, okay?”
“I love you, Mommy,” was the response. “And I promise I’ll be good for Daddy.”
“Good girl. Now, put Daddy back on so I can say goodbye to him.” The woman swallowed as she waited for her daughter to hand the phone over.
