Who Is Lucas Ryker O'Riley?

11. JUST LISTEN

Walking up the street toward the nearest restaurant, I began to open up to mom about what had been going through my head. Not the details of my imaginations during that last leg of the trip, absolutely not, but of the thoughts and ideas I'd been sorting through about my future.

I knew I couldn't just wait until we got to our new home and not have some answer as to how my parents would introduce me to our new neighbors. I felt it would be best if we had a game plan before we arrived.

"Mom," I nervously began, as we continued to walk. "I uh, I've been doing a lot of thinking about stuff, about my life, my future."

"I knew something was going on in that head of yours. You were awfully quite the entire trip. So what you thinking, kiddo?"

"Well, back a-at the gas stop at that small country store. When I went in to get drinks and chips, the clerk was uh, he, he was staring at me as I walked up to the counter, like he was trying to figure out if-if I was a uh, a boy or a girl. By the time he spoke to me H-he had decided I was, um, well mom, h-he called me . . . 'Miss'," I managed to stammer with much embarrassment.

"You didn't correct him?"

"Well, no. Technically he's not wrong, you know? Right, mom?"

She didn't immediately answer, and I wasn't really looking for a verbal response anyway, so I continued.

"I mean, I'm still me, but, well without some major medical procedures, I don't think I am going to be able to consistently pass for a guy too much longer. Whether I want it or not, I'm not going to be able to hide it much longer. I'm basically a girl now, physically. A girl with a thingy, but still more much more girl than boy."

At anytime, mom could have jumped in to disagree with what I was saying, but she didn't. She remained silent and let me speak. I think she sensed just how difficult it was for me to get out what I was saying and her motherly instinct told her that what I needed more than anything was for her to just listen.

"Mom," I continued, "I don't know what I should do. I know what I probably need to do, but I don't know if I can. I mean, I've been playing scenarios over and over and over in my head for hours on end, and they almost all end in some kind of disaster. Some more than others. I feel like Dr Strange looking at Infinity War outcomes. Out of 14,000,605 possible outcomes, he only saw one in which they survived. The scary part is that of all the scenarios playing out in my head, all the better options have had one single thing in common."

Just then we were walking through a parking lot, approaching a fast food restaurant entrance. Right outside the door, on one side of the walkway, was a bench. Mom stopped and took a seat.

I sat down beside her.

I'll never forget the choked up look on Mom's face when she looked at me and tried to give me a brave, confident, and consoling answer, all while trying to avoid the conversation she had to know would obviously be one day coming.

"Lucas, honey," she began as she reached over and brushed hair away from my face, with her hand. "We don't have to make any life-altering decisions right now or tonight at all, for that matter. Let's let it go for tonight. We're all tired from riding all day and just need to relax. I tell you what, after we finish the hard and stressful work of moving into the new house, we can all sit down and explain your physical situation to your dad . . . and your brother. Then we can all discuss the pros and cons of either choice. That way, you can consider everything, along with our thoughts, feelings, and advice as you decide how you think you'll feel most comfortable moving forward. How does that sound to you?"

"But, mom. I don't think it can wait that long. What about the new neighbors? Won't it be better if I am introduced to them as the person they will know for years to come and not be confused by meeting a boy then having me transition later?"

"Sounds to me like you've already made your decision. Look, if that's really how you feel, let it go for tonight and we'll discuss it tomorrow."

"But, mom--"

"No buts," she told me as she stood and turned toward the restaurant door. "Let's get some food in your tummy and get you a good night's rest. I promise you we'll sort this out tomorrow."

As I reached for the door, I exhaled, nodded, replied with 'Okay, mom' and entered.

"Evening, Ladies," the young male cashier greeted us as we stepped up to the counter. "What can I get you this evening?"