“Jesus, they sure do know how to fuck you up, don’t they?” Charlie said, coming up beside Noah and placing a solid hand on his back.
“Yeah…it was the last night I was there, and my dad sat me down at the table, used both my name and my pronouns for the first time in a single sitting...as he told me that regardless of my gender, they still expected me to find a woman to settle down with before the holidays.”
The exact words he’d used were “You know we expect so much better from you. You need to grow up and stop disappointing your mother.” Noah had sat at his childhood dining room table, surrounded by family portraits, sports trophies, and yearbook photos with his dead name displayed for all to see, and taken it. His mom had made his favorite food from high school, tuna noodle casserole, which Noah hadn’t actually liked in years. As his father spouted off about respectability and family values, Noah had wondered if he’d actually ever liked the stodgy dish. Maybe, just like most things in his life, from his job to the city he lived in to the way he styled his hair, it was just another thing his parents had told him to like, and he hadn’t seen much use in fighting it.
“That feels pretty manipulative,” Charlie said, popping a handful of sunflower seeds into his mouth before offering the beat-up bag to Noah.
“You know, even after eight years of softball, I never really developed a taste for those.”
That was yet another thing Noah had done willingly, and yet somehow completely against his will. He had wanted to swim, but his brother, Braxton, had chosen T-ball as his sport of the moment, and his mom had wanted Noah to learn a similar sport so he could help coach and train Braxton. Of course, Braxton had dropped T-ball by the end of the season, just like he dropped almost everything. His mom had been able to recruit a few of thesoftball moms to the Rotary Club, so Noah hadn’t been allowed to quit playing until college.
Charlie snorted and spat a few seeds off the side of the path, nudging Princess with the toe of his boot when she tried to shove her entire face in Gordon’s butt. When that proved ineffective, he yanked on her leash, and they set off at a steady walk down the path.
“I forgot you were a softball kid. How very queer of you.”
Noah shook his head. “I wish it was like that, but it was just something my mom wanted me to do. Just like she wanted me to meet a nice boy, and now thatI’mthe nice boy, I’m supposed to meet a nice girl and settle down.”
It was all so ridiculous. Like the only thing that had changed in the past ten years was the gender marker on his license. He’d been in five different steady relationships, and none of them had felt right, regardless of gender.
Those people weren’t right for you. If you’d just let me set you up with some of the nice women at the country club, we’d be over and done with this by now.
“Oh god,” Charlie said, spitting again. “So, they’re finally willing to accept that you’re trans so long as you’re straight?”
“That seems to be the newest development, yes.”
Gordon gave a low, disapproving rumble, and Noah reached down and patted his flank. He really was the bestest boy, it was just too bad Noah’s apartment building didn’t allow dogs as big as Gordy.
“Now, I know there’s no way you’re letting that affect your relationship potential with Aspen, because then I’d have to let Princess here teach you a lesson,” Charlie said.
Princess stared up at Noah, her small body trembling despite the relatively warm weather.
“The fact that they want me to date a nice girl, and Aspen’s not a girl? No, that has nothing to do with it,” Noah said,adjusting his grip on the leash as they approached the grassy knoll they’d seen deer in the previous weekend. Gordon was nowhere near as nimble as he used to be, but he would do his damnedest to charge at a deer.
“I might need you to explain this to me like I’m bad with emotions, because… I am,” Charlie said, spitting the rest of his mouthful of shells out, before reaching for the bag again. His scarred and calloused hands handled the bag with surprising care, like he was afraid of losing even a single seed.
“You’re not bad with–”
“No, I am, and that’s alright. That’s why I have you to make me better,” he said, with a wide grin.
Noah bumped his shoulder against Charlie’s meaty upper arm. He was at least half a head taller and much bulkier than Noah. After graduating from high school and leaving the foster care system, Charlie worked a series of construction jobs before becoming a bartender at one of the lesser-known gay bars in town. That’s where Noah had met him, on one of the rare evenings he went out drinking without Aspen.
“I don’t think I make you better. I think I just bring out your more empathetic side,” Noah said seriously, and Charlie turned to face him.
Princess began inspecting Gordon’s butt again, but Charlie ignored her.
“You’re deflecting, which is one of those emotional intelligence words you taught me, because you absolutely challenge me to be a better person.”
Noah looked down at the dirt path, but Charlie snagged his chin and turned his face up.
“Come on, peanut, talk to me,” he said, pulling out the nickname he’d given Noah that first night at the bar when he’d been so enthralled in their conversation, he’d eaten an entire bowl of bar peanuts by accident.
“I know you want to,” Charlie pressed. “Your jaw has been ticking since you got here.”
God, did everyone know his embarrassing habits? Growing up, his mom hated that Noah bit his nails when he was anxious or overwhelmed. She’d tried painting on the disgusting nail polish, taking away his allowance, and publicly shaming him in front of his friends. It had taken Braxton's second suspension from middle school for Noah to break the habit. He’d been sitting with his mom on the tiny school benches, waiting for Braxton to collect his things, and he’d gone to bite his nails, and she’d stared at him with tears in her eyes and told him she couldn’t deal with any more disappointments in the family. Her words had run through his head for the next several weeks anytime he went to bite his nails, and eventually he’d stopped biting them.
So, now, instead of biting his nails, he gnashed his teeth, a habit his dentist pointed out at every appointment. Maybe if his dentist told Noah how disappointed she was in him, he’d find a new habit.
“I’ve spent my whole life trying to live up to her expectations, checking every box and jumping through every hoop they put in front of me. Meanwhile, Braxton does the bare minimum, or even less than that, and he’s still my mom’s sweet baby boy. I’m the one who needs to shape up and get in line, so I stop embarrassing her,” Noah said, and Charlie moved his hand around to rest on the back of Noah’s neck. “And none of this is new, of course, but it was like all at once, I realized I just…don’t want to do it anymore.”
