Jessie & Elizabeth (abandoned)

14. Some Heroes Wear Rainbow Capes [Part 3]

Manon and Ari were in awe of their mother. She wasn't used to it — I could see it in the way she blinked down at them in surprise while they hugged her, shouting excitedly. Ari had dug up the roll of tape from her jeans pocket and stuck the flag to her mother, singing some pronoun song I'd never heard before. Elizabeth laughed, a little cautiously, biting her lip as she looked at her kids, suddenly more vulnerable than I'd ever seen her.

I felt like shit. Worse than shit. Cow manure. Mass-production cow manure. Or organic. Whichever smelled worse.

Every time I'd assumed some bad thing about her, she'd proved me wrong. Every single time.

And still, I'd been afraid she wouldn't be in my corner.

As soon as the kids had digested the whole event, she sent them to the living room to watch a movie. She leaned against the kitchen counter, her hair a little electrically charged due to the flag still hugging her body, blowing into the hot cup of tea in her hands. She winced. "You were afraid I'd be like her?" she asked, referring to when she came to ask me to work for her. "Do I look that repressed?"

I managed a small smile. "No. Especially not like this."

A grin tugged at the corner of her mouth, and her eyes sparked to life. "I definitely make it work, don't I? Maybe I missed my call. I could be a good lesbian, I think. Women are much more beautiful anyway. And it would certainly make relationships a whole lot easier."

I had planned to say something about homophobes coming in all shapes, colors, and sizes, only I was temporarily dumbfounded by the image she'd just planted in my mind. Oh, boy. Don't think about how beautiful the straight girl is. Don't don't don't. My treacherous stomach did a backflip— it'd always been much more athletic than the rest of me.

The grin vanished. "Oh. Am I not supposed to joke about that?" She tugged at the flag self-consciously, as if debating if she should take it off.

"No! No, that's fine. It's just—" There was a lump in my throat, but my hands were shaking too violently to take a sip of my tea. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Elizabeth." Damn it. For the second time that day, I was tearing up, staring at the ceiling to try to keep it in.

"For what?"

I looked down again. She seemed confused, searching my face for who knows what. "Causing all this trouble," I said. "I didn't mean to. And this afternoon, I shouldn't have gone off on you like that. You were just trying to be nice."

She frowned, one finger trailing the handle of her mug. "Help me here. Are you apologizing because one of the neighbors is a shitty person?" Well. When you put it like that... "Look. I hired you. I knew what all these white snobs were going to think when I did. I suspected it might have some consequences. But that's on them, not on you. So, don't apologize. You deserve better than that."

Oh no. I hid my face in my hands, embarrassed that I was crying in front of her, sobbing like some toddler who wasn't allowed to have candy. She was so nice. So good. How could I ever have doubted her? Me and my stupid prejudices. "I'm sorry," I managed to say, wiping my cheeks dry with my sleeve. "Sorry. It's just... that's so sweet."

She chuckled, handing me a kitchen towel. "I think it's what TikTok calls 'the bare minimum'."

I looked at her, a smile breaking free as she looked back, finally acknowledging our shared rampages through the app. "Nah, it's definitely more." Suddenly, I felt calmer, all warm inside, and I wished it would've been normal for us to hug. "You do realize she's going to tell people you're gay now, don't you?"

She snorted. "Good. Let her. They already think I'm a slut, so this can be the icing on the cake." A frown. "Maybe it'll keep the men away instead of attracting them like bees to honey."