“You look tired,” he said.
Scratch that. Fuck his entire face. “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t tell each other that.”
He shrugged. “I told you to never tell me that. You’re a baby still. Down a Red Bull and you’ll be right as rain. If I tried that, I’d have heartburn for the rest of the day and still look like shit.”
“You’re very pretty,” I said dutifully. And he was. People tended to see him for Helena rather than Sandy, but those people were blind and stupid and didn’t deserve him.
“Thank you,” he said. “You still look tired.”
“Bitch.”
“Truth hurts, I know.” He stared at me over his coffee mug. “Everything all—”
“I swear to god, if you ask me if I’m all right, I’m going to fucking scream.” I sat back in the chair so I wouldn’t reach out and dump my coffee on his head.
“Fair,” he allowed. “It was late when I went to bed. Your light was still on.”
“After you let Darren out?”
He ignored me. “I know how you can get sometimes. And it’s okay to be nervous. It’s a pretty big deal, what you’re going to be doing. I’m proud of you for it. It takes more compassion than I will ever have.”
“Ugh,” I said, pressing my palms against my eyes. “Why do you have to be vomiting your feelings on me at seven in the morning? And on a Monday, no less.”
“Because I need to catch up for the last couple of weeks,” Sandy said. “And Nana told me she saw Kori more than Corey while we were gone.”
I didn’t need to have it spelled out for me. I knew what she meant. Being trans wasn’t a big deal to anyone I knew. If anyone was ever uncomfortable with it, I’d learned early they weren’t worth my time. I didn’t need shit from people who couldn’t see me for who I was, even when I was at my most confused. Bigenderism was almost predictable for me. I knew when something was happening, when I felt different. My thoughts didn’t change. My brain was the same. It was just a filter through which I saw the world and wanted the world to see me. “It’s nothing,” I said, ready for this conversation to be over.
“Okay,” Sandy said, thankfully not pushing. He was good like that. “But if it ever is something, just let me know, and we’ll do whatever you need. Pillow forts, getting in the car and driving away for a weekend, a sleepover with all of us and watching terrible TV, anything. Things might have changed a little, but that doesn’t mean we can’t do all the things we normally do.”
“Uh-huh. When are you and Darren getting married?”
Sandy rolled his eyes. “Never. I don’t believe in the institution of marriage. Paul and Vince are lovely and I’m so happy for them, but it isn’t for me.”
I snorted. “Right. I’ll remember that when you’re crying in front of all of us while vowing your eternal love to Darren.”
“Nah. I don’t know that we need to be married for that. Darren knows how I feel about him, and I know he cares about me.”
“You’ve actually thought about this.”
“Sometimes,” he admitted. Then his eyes narrowed, a little bit of Helena coming forward. “And if you ever speak of this to anyone, I will gut you where you stand.”
An empty threat. Effective, but empty. “Cross my heart, hope to die.”
“A billion needles in your eye,” he agreed. Then, “We talked about it a little after Paul and Vince. I don’t think it’s for us, and he’s on the same page. We’re committed, so what does it matter? It’s a piece of paper. We don’t need it to validate us.”
“Maybe a little more than that,” I said, amused. “And I’m pretty sure there are thousands of couples who would disagree with you.”
“And that’s their right,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “But it’s not something we need. It’s awesome how so many queer couples can get married now. It was a hard-won fight. But all happy endings don’t need to end in marriage. I love him. He loves me. That’s enough.” He paused, considering. “For now.”
I laughed. “You’re so full of shit.”
His grin was razor-sharp. “Always, baby doll.”
I opened my mouth to make fun of him some more but was interrupted by a bloviating idiot blaring from the radio. “Jesus. I still don’t know why they give him the time of day. Fuck him, seriously.”
Sandy shook his head. “It’s all show. Loud noise
s and bright flashing lights. Almost like a drag queen, but without any of the charm. At least he’s got a wig.” He stood from his chair. “Pay him no mind. We’ve had almost eight years of an awesome black man in charge. There’s no way the people of this country will allow someone like this idiot to become the next president. I have more faith in us than that. Not much, but at least a little. You’ll see. Everything will be fine. Now finish up so we can get on the road.”