I was late meeting Gerry, having spent too long in the parking lot of the store that I never managed to go into to buy myself some damn socks. I didn't even realize what time it was until he rang my phone, bringing me back to the present rather than lost in the past. And in the leftover haze from stumbling across my parents I drove to the place we agreed on and found him sitting at a high top with a beer.
Now I have my own beer, partially gone as we sit in the crowded bar. Gerry has been mostly asking me questions about Washington, did I like it, what was my favorite thing to do, was Seattle cool. But as he takes a pause to take a drink I throw the attention on him.
"So how long have you and Nicole been together?"
His face instantly breaks into a smile as he smacks his lips together, his beer clinking against the table. The happiness that spills from him is nearly contagious.
"We're coming up on a year and half." He says.
"That long already?"
I remember when they first started dating. I watched through social media as she began to pop up in pictures, being tagged here and there, the frequency increasing until one day it became official. Sappy, lovesick posts followed with pictures of them kissing, holding hands, hugging, all the adventures documented in Instagram worthy pictures.
"I know." He chuckles, passing his bottle of beer between his hands. "I'm thinking about asking her to move in with me."
My thoughts are scattered, like they have been since I saw my parents. Switching between fear and what if's
and what could have been. If I had different parents, if I would be at the point Gerry is at, getting ready to ask my long standing boyfriend to move in with me. Or maybe James and I would have just had an unspoken thing where we graduated college and got a place together. Or maybe, us going to college would have been a real thing, rather than a fantasy I cooked up in my head.
"Congrats." I mumble, my eyes shifting to two guys as they follow the hostess to their table, one of them meeting my gaze.
He's a big guy, not necessarily fit but burly with a beard and a hat pulled down over his head. He looks scrappy and hard headed and he looks at me with narrowed eyes. It makes fear bloom in my stomach, like I'm wearing a sign that tells him exactly who I am and who Gerry is and panic starts to rise within me as Gerry carries on without a second thought.
"Honestly Brett, I'm the happiest I've ever been. I finally feel like I'm myself." He tells me.
I swallow down a lump, breaking eyes with the burly man as he passes our table without incident. Gerry's watching me and I wonder if he knows the thoughts that run through my mind. That I'm always on edge, waiting for people to figure out that I'm a fox. That I'm lying to them. That I'm not normal.
"That's good." I squeak out, trying to wash down my fear with a drink of beer.
He clears his throat, brown eyes meeting mine as he leans on the table to bring us closer. "Ya know a lot of people don't believe that being transgender is a thing, like your grandparents and parents and basically most of our family..." I can't help but take in his face, the stubble that lines his face and his square jaw, the way his eyebrows are a little bushy and his skin isn't soft. How he looks like a cis male even more so than he did when we were younger. I can't honestly remember what he looked like before. "But there's also a lot of people that accept me just as I am. Surrounding myself with those people hasn't necessarily filled the gap of losing some of the others but not having to pretend I'm something that I'm not is..I don't know, liberating. Or something."
And without thinking I say "but you're passing. People can't tell you're trans." My voice dropping low near the end.
What I don't say is people can tell I'm gay if I'm with James.
Gerry's face crinkles in distaste, his head shaking. "That doesn't make what I've gone through less valid."
"That's not what I meant." I defend. "But you can hide it, I can't."
He watches me for a minute, his lips pressed together and his brow knit. It's an intense stare, one that's firm and calculating and I can't hold it, dropping my eyes to my beer.
"Don't you want to be happy?" It's not anger that fills the question but sadness.
And it hits me like a wave, washing over me, draining me of my constant pretending. I do, so badly, want to be happy.
Gerry takes a drink, waiting maybe for me to say something one way or the other but I can't. And confirming it out loud will only make the fact that I'm not happy that much more real.
"Ya know..." he says, his hand scratching at his beard. "The happiest I've ever seen you is when you've been with James."
An image of James the other day flashes in my mind, his gray eyes and dark hair saying my name only to have some other guy stand beside him throwing all my hopes and dreams to the side.
"I'm pretty sure I messed that up for good. I think he has a boyfriend." It tumbles out of me before I can think about it. I probably sound bitter and jealous, which I am, but it's also my own doing which probably makes it worse.
Gerry though doesn't seem phased by anything I just said, shrugging his shoulders like we have these sorts of talks all the time. We don't, he did reach out a lot when news broke that I came out and we've kept in touch a little. But never anything serious.
"I don't know." He smiles slightly, the one side of his mouth lifting in a knowing smirk. "I've run into James a few times, he always asks about you."
I don't want to get my hopes up, I can't really. It was hard enough when we broke up, I can't do that again. But if there's a chance that James would take me back, I have to know.
"Really?" I breathe the word.
Gerry takes a drink, clearing his throat. "All I'm saying is you should talk to him before you give up."
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At some point, near the end, I'll tell you what's coming after this story.
