Page 119 of Let the Light Shine Through

I should’ve said something. I shouldn’t have waited.

Damn it.

“Those both require a lot of time outdoors, correct? In the sun?”

Gia studies an old Nova passing by and swallows before saying, “Being aware and being terrified are two different things. I’m aware of how dangerous the sun is, but I’m not going to live my life being terrified of it.” She turns her head back toward my parents. “Even though I’m outside almost every day, I still do my best to protect myself against its rays. A soldier showing up to battle unarmed isn’t brave, they’re just stupid.”

“Well, if that doesn’t sound like a snowboarder’s motto, then I don’t know what does,” my dad says, steering us back to the topic they love to beat over my head. “How about you, Gia? Do you snowboard, too?”

Her eyes flick to mine. “Nothing like Roz here.”

An image comes to mind—that same one from before—and without looking away, I tell Gia, “I bet you’d tear up some fresh pow though.” And maybe in another life, one where I’m back to boarding, I’d actually get to see it firsthand because, as it stands now, it’s just a pipedream.

My feet start rocking under the table.

“You should take her up to the cabin once the snow sets in. You two lovebirds—”

“We’re Cardinals,” I correct my mom, and Gia snickers, dropping her gaze. I don’t know if lovebirds are real birds, but they don’t sound half as cool as Cardinals.

My mom blinks at me, her face frozen, but I don’t backtrack an inch. I’m proud to be a Cardinal, and I don’t care who knows it.

“Well, you both are welcome there anytime. Just let us know beforehand and we’ll have everything stocked and ready for you. You can make a weekend out of it. Go snowmobiling, snowboarding—”

Heat spreads up my arms, right to my neck. “I’m not saying this again, so let these words sink in…I quit snowboarding. That part of my life is over.”

She looks to my dad, and he shakes his head.

“Roswell, you’re one of the lucky ones. You could have a long, illustrious future doing something you genuinely enjoy. Not everyone can say the same. Gianna knows that better than anyone.”

I see Gia flinch out of the corner of my eye.

“Your girlfriend doesn’t let fear hold her back, so why do you?” my dad asks.

Standing suddenly, Gia says, “Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom. Or restroom. Washroom? Whatever,” before disappearing into the small gender-neutral bathroom.

I stare at the closed door for a minute, making myself cool the fuck down before facing my parents and telling them, “I used to think I was one of the lucky ones, too, because of the way I grew up, the lifestyle we had. Then I let it all go. I gave everything we had, everything I had, up. I just…gave it up.”

“Roswell—”

“And now, I have something in my life that I could never give up. That’s what makes me lucky.” There will always be more snowboarding, just like there will always be more money, more material items. There may not always be time with the woman I love though, and I consider myself the luckiest that I get to spend any of it, even the briefest of moments, with her. “I’m not letting fear hold me back. I’m just choosing to put my energy somewhere else.” I may have had a lot of opportunities handed to me because of my parents’ wealth, but I’m not sure I ever really had choices in my life’s path. It was always gonna go one way. It took an avalanche to throw me off course, then a brown-eyed, brown-haired, boxer brief-wearing ball of light to teach me about the choices I do have and how to make them for myself.

“I’m sure she’s lovely, but those genes…they’re not promising.”

This weekend I had a lot of time to think—you know, since my girlfriend never returned my phone call—and I kept coming back to the birth control thing. Any kids I’ve seen Gia around, she’s amazing with, but she told me after that first four-wheeling class that those girls were the closest she would ever get to having kids. If Gia had some kind of medical condition that kept her from getting pregnant, she wouldn’t require both birth control and condoms. Technically, she wouldn’t need either. So that means she’s purposely choosing not to have kids, and if I’ve learned anything about Gia, it’d be so that she can’t pass on a disease that has the potential to be hereditary.

“Jesus, Mom. I’m not with Gia to breed.”

Not every fear is unwarranted, but there are almost always alternate routes around it. And if Gia and I do settle down, and she decides she wants kids after all, I’ll take whichever path she chooses, whether it be fostering, adoption, surrogacy, or anything else I may not be aware of yet. Our story doesn’t have to work only one way. It just has to work.

“I’m with her because there’s literally nowhere else I’d rather be.” Not Switzerland, not Canada, not Alaska, not France, Austria, or Japan. I’ve been to them all plus dozens more and none of them, not one, compares to being next to Gia.

“Roz, son. We’re glad you’re doing better. You need to be healthy mentally as well as physically if you’re going to have a chance at qualifying. If you started training now—”

“I think it’s time you guys get going,” I say, pushing out of my chair. “Don’t expect me for dinner anytime soon.”

They look up at me, then each other, slowly getting to their feet as well.

“See yourselves out.” I point to the door leading outside, heading for the bathroom myself.