I’d been a better man, for a little while. That version of me hadn’t just worn his heart on his sleeve; he’d torn it out and handed it over to the only person who he could trust. Then he’d fucked up and left it behind.
So that’s who I had to be: Heartless.
I rose to my full commanding height, and flashed my arrogant smirk. Inside I was dying, but I would fake it. What choice did I have?
Grace
“So that’s why I have to quit,” I told Mallory.
As soon as Ruby agreed to live with me, I’d started foster parent training, told the social worker team, searched for new housing … and procrastinated the final task: quit teaching yoga. I couldn’t work full time at the hospital plus nights and weekends at the studio and be responsible for Ruby.
This was the right move … but I didn’t want to say goodbye to Mallory.
To soften the blow I’d made her vegan enchiladas, waited until after the Friday yoga class cleared out, and lit a scented candle in the studio lounge in hopes the sage scent would add a welcome warmth to the cold January night. All day, the weather hovered on the cusp of freezing rain, hail and snow, a delightful oddity that meteorologists call “wintry mix” to make it sound more pleasant than “slush freezes your toes and ice pelts your face.”
I’d forced myself not to check the forecast in San Francisco. Instead, I sat with Mallory and recapped my conversations with Jean and Ruby.
“Holy shit, Grace,” Mallory said, her blue eyes welling with tears as hail slammed against against the window. I tugged my Vermont hoodie tighter, as if it could protect me from the storm, and braced myself for her disappointment.
She flashed me a giant smile. “You’re going to be a mom, this is incredible!”
Relief coursed through me, followed by confused dismay. “You’re not mad I’m quitting?”
“Of course not! How could I be mad that you’re finally getting what you’ve always wanted? Plus I always assumed you’d put a bun in my oven, and this way won’t wreck my ladybits.” She beamed as the front door downstairs rattled, likely caught in the wind.
“But we won’t work together anymore, I thought —”
“You think that without the studio we won’t hang out any more?” Mallory took my hand, and when my lip wobbled she said, “You’re my best friend, Gracie. Nothing can change that.”
I shook my head in disbelief. I wasn’t her best friend. I would never be her best friend. “But Kate —”
“You and Kate are sisters to me, you know?” Then her mouth quirked into a soft smile. “If you’re going to be Ruby’s mom, that makes me an aunt. I’m gonna spoil the shit out of her. Ponies for everyone!”
She mimicked Oprah's hand gestures, yelling, ‘You get a pony, you get a pony!” then pulled me into an enthusiastic hug, and I sobbed in relief. The social workers had a similar reaction, offering character references and clothing hand-me-downs and neighborhood suggestions. I’d worried that people would judge a transgender woman becoming a single mom, but so far the response had been positive.
“But you don’t have to quit, we can be flexible. Ruby can hang out with me while you teach, we can meet in your new house after her bedtime. Or you could work from home on the admin stuff.”
My heart pounded and I released the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
“I wonder what my parents will want to be called,” Mallory said, dropping into one of her daydreams. “Mom will want something traditional like Grandma, except Jean is already Grandma. Oh god, I hope Dad picks Papa, not something awkward like Big Daddy …”
It was hard to focus over the pounding. Maybe that wasn’t my heart. Was somebody at the front door? Who would be out in this storm?
We both sighed in annoyance at the racket. I said, “Maybe the class schedule box outside is empty, I’ll run down refills and give one to whoever is there.”
Mallory searched the kitchenette, swearing she’d stashed some champagne behind her Triscuits collection. I grabbed a stack of brochures and hopped down the stairs two at a time, joy adding to the bounce in my steps.
I wasn’t losing Mallory.
I was her best friend.
I didn’t need to quit.
Ruby would have an aunt.
From the bottom step, I looked through the glass window and froze.
A lean man paced in front of the door with his phone lifted to his ear. His hood blocked the sleet, but even seeing his shadow from behind, I recognized the breadth of his shoulders and the narrowness of his hips.
As he turned, time twisted into the past. His pacing stopped as he took me in, scanning my face uncertainly, then stepping closer until his breath fogged the glass. He pushed down the hood to reveal a face I’d recognize anywhere, a face as familiar as my own.
Through the glass door, I read his lips as he said into his phone, “I found her.”
Alex
The elevator rose too fast to the executive floor, where my future hung in the balance. Each step felt like walking to the gallows.
I pulled my cell phone from my suit jacket and scrolled through my messages with Nick. He was filming in Croatia now, so we’d texted earlier in the day.
Me
Today’s the day. The moment of truth, whether I get the 🪓
Nick
Did you just use an emoji??
Me
