“Still, this is all my fault.”
“No, it’s my fault. I’m the one who left. I’m the one who came back. Do you want me to go after her?”
I let out a sigh. “No. She’ll come around. Or not. It might take some time for her to wrap her mind around everything, but she’ll be back. She loves Ethan too much to walk away from me for long.”
My words were largely bravado, said as much for my own benefit as Christa’s. I wanted my mother to be okay with everything. What if she never spoke to me again? Had I made a huge mistake in telling her? In bringing Christa home in the first place?
Chapter 23
Christa
In the internet age, gossip traveled a thousand times faster than wildfire. Once our son told a couple of friends about his new mom, news of my return spread through the community faster than a meme gleefully extolling the number of divorces among “pro-family values” politicians. When Jess and I left the house together, whispers surrounded us. There was no escape. I stayed off social media, but people found Jess and Ethan, asking questions we couldn’t or wouldn’t answer. After a few days, they gave up and deleted their accounts.
Yet, when Ethan told me his football team was in the state championship, no power in the universe could’ve kept me away from the game. The high school season usually ended before Thanksgiving, but a fortunately timed early October blizzard and the Trojans’ amazing defense meant I’d get to watch my son play in his final game of high school, the State Championship, while television cameras rolled. The game might even air on ESPN 3 or 4.
“Serendipity,” I called it.
“Plain dumb luck,” Jess said. Either way, I was glad to be at the stadium.
Red and gold banners swayed in the breeze. A different high school, different home team, different state. Still, it felt like coming home again. The same smells filled the air: grass and hot dogs and, closer to the field, sweat and male bravado. Bleacher seats contained no more padding in 2019 than 1996, but Jess had brought these awesome heated pillows she kept in the back of her car. The marching band played the same old songs. If I closed my eyes, I was a high school senior again, standing right back on the sidelines, waiting to go out on the field and win the final game of my high school career and walk away a champion.
We’d lost that game, a solid 35 to 3 trouncing. Half my passes were intercepted. Hopefully, Ethan’s team would do better than the Lancaster Lions had.
Until that moment, I didn’t realize how much that legacy meant to me, how badly I wanted Ethan to follow in my footsteps or, more accurately, to do better than I had. I suddenly wanted him to win more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life. Jess and I bought foam fingers, wore red sweatshirts, and cheered at the top of our lungs when our son came running out.
The man in front of us turned around at the commotion. He wore a red baseball cap with white letters. “You Ethan Cooper’s mom?”
“We’re both his moms,” I said.
His eyes widened. The woman beside him coughed.
Beside me, Jess said, “Christa, this is Franklin Hudson. His son is the second-string quarterback.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I started to say, before being cut off.
“It just isn’t right,” Mr. Hudson said. “Two women shouldn’t be raising a child together. Nowhere in the Bible does it say that’s okay.”
“It also doesn’t say anywhere in the Bible that it’s okay to harass a couple of people at their son’s football game, just looking to have a nice time,” Jess said. “So how about you leave us alone?”
“A boy should have a mother and a father.”
“Says who?” I asked. “Which Bible verse says that?”
“Ephesians 6:2. ‘Honor your father and mother.’”
“That doesn’t say all people need to have both. What about single parents? Kids with a deceased parent?” Jess said.
“What about Luke 14:26? Any man who does not hate his father and mother cannot be my disciple?” I asked. “Does your son hate you?”
Franklin turned red but said nothing.
“When did you become such a Bible expert?” Jess whispered.
“It was the only book I had in the days after 9/11,” I said. “Took it from a hotel.”
In front of us, Franklin stood, clenching his fist. “What I don’t understand is why you two freaks are still here.”
“It’s a public stadium. Everyone is allowed to watch the game,” Jess said. “C’mon, Christa, let’s find other seats.”
He reached for her arm. “I said, you need to go. Get out of this stadium, leave us God-fearing folk in peace, or there will be consequences.”
“Are you threatening my wife?” I stood, too, moving in front of Jess and forcing Franklin to release his grip.
All around us, necks craned in our direction, our discussion far more interesting to the other parents and students than the introduction of a bunch of kids who’d been bused in from the other side of the state.
The woman beside Franklin, who had to be a second wife since she wasn’t nearly old enough to have a high-school-aged child, stood and nudged him, whispering in his ear. She tugged at his hand, but he ignored her.
“All I’m saying,” Franklin said, “is that you and your kind have no place here. Maybe you should go sit somewhere else.”
“Happy to! Where’s the ‘no bigots’ section?” Jess asked.
Second Wife’s face grew red. “Who are you calling a bigot?” She swung wildly at Jess, but I caught her wrist.
“Lucky for you, I am a fucking lady,” I said. “And I would never hit a woman, or you’d be missing teeth by now.”
Franklin stepped up onto the bleacher, looming over me. “Get your hands off my wife.” He swung at my head, but I ducked.
The movement caused me to let go of Second Wife’s wrist, and she teetered backward. Standing, I grinned at Franklin. “I’m glad you did that.”
“You think I’m scared of you?”
My fist collided with his jaw, not as strong as when I played quarterback, but with plenty of force behind the throw. “I think you should be.”
His eyes fluttered shut, and he dropped to the ground.
Pandemonium broke out. Franklin’s wife started screaming and swinging her purse at both of us. Something struck me from behind. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a fist land in Jess’s stomach. She doubled over from the impact, gasping.
I flashed back to that moment in the bar, of watching Bo get beaten, hearing his nose crack against the pavement. If I lived a hundred years, I’d never forget that sound. My breath came in gasps, the world started to close in on me. I couldn’t go through that again. Spots danced at the edge of my vision. Panic threatened to close in, so I twisted and spun like an animal, trying to land a punch anywhere, on anyone who might be threatening Jess.
This couldn’t be happening. Not again. I couldn’t lose her now. I never should’ve come back.
A cup of ice dumped down my back brought me back to reality. With a growl, I turned and swung wildly at the college-aged kid standing behind me, holding an empty cup. Someone’s older brother, probably. Then I grabbed Jess’s hand and shoved to the end of the row, fighting frantically to get her out of there before things got worse.
We made it about halfway down the stairs when two police officers stepped into view. We stopped and turned, but another officer stood at the top, blocking the exit that way. On the field, whistles blew, halting the action. So much for trying to have a nice, quiet evening watching football.
Beside me, Jess squeezed my hand. “It’ll be okay,” she whispered.
“I don’t have ID,” I whispered back. “I’m still dead, remember?”
∞ ♡ ∞
Jess
There was no escaping the stadium. Christa looked around desperately, but I clutched her hand and waited to face the music. Running would only make police think we were hiding something. They’d come after us. Ethan didn’t need to witness his parents being tac
kled and tasered by police because they evaded arrest after starting a brawl in the bleachers. I hoped he hadn’t seen the fight itself from his vantage point on the field. What a stunning example I was turning out to be for my teenaged son.
Once upon a time, I worked hard to instill good values in my child. Teaching him to respect others, think for himself, use table manners. This year, apparently, I’d decided to teach him about faking your own death, illegal immigration, and brawls. Mother of the Year, that was me.
When we got to the bottom of the stands, four police officers herded everyone out of the stadium and into a corner of the parking lot created by three cop cars. We all stood, glaring at each other, while they took witness statements. I eyed each of the officers, trying to guess who might be the most sympathetic to our plight while we tried to figure out what on earth to say.
“Just tell them you forgot your ID, right?” I whispered out of the side of my mouth.
“Sure. And what’s my name?”
“Ch… oh, shit.”
It wasn’t illegal to walk around without identification, since I’d driven to the stadium and she wasn’t drinking. But giving a false name to a police officer was a crime, which we’d both learned when we started researching the legal ramifications of faking your own death. Brett Cooper had not yet been declared legally alive.
“Maybe they’ll just ask a few questions and let everyone go? We were the ones attacked, right?”
“I love your optimism, Jess, but I’m not sure what part of this evening makes you think good luck is on our side.”
“Well, the universe owes us a break, right?”
Her positive attitude was sweet yet naive. As if good things happened simply because you wanted or needed them to.
Before I could respond, a young woman in a blue uniform approached. She couldn’t have been on the force more than a year or two. “Name, please?”
“Jess Cooper.”
“You got ID, ma’am?”
“Right here.” I fished it out. She examined it with a flashlight for a long moment before returning it.
“Thank you, ma’am. And you?”
Christa swallowed. “My legal name is Brett Cooper.”
The policewoman squinted at her long hair, the T-shirt stretched across her breasts. “You don’t look like a Brett.”
“No, ma’am.” Christa lowered her voice. “I’ve completed gender reassignment but not legally changed my name.”
“That so?” We both nodded. “Do you have ID, Mr. Cooper?”
“No, I’m afraid I don’t. I wasn’t driving.”
She looked at me. “Will you vouch for your husband?”
I started to correct the noun use, but the look on Christa’s face reminded me that now wasn’t the best time for political correctness. “Yes, absolutely. I’ve known Brett Cooper since I was fourteen years old.”
“Good enough for me. As long Mrs. Cooper drives home, I have no reason to keep the two of you here. Let me see what I can do to speed things along here.” She leaned forward. “I think, under the circumstances, it’s better if the two of you disappear into the crowd. It’s clear to me that someone else started this fight.”
Relief flooded me. We started to thank her, but then another, older police officer approached, and my heart sank. He didn’t look nearly as sympathetic as the officer we’d been talking to. His lip curled when he looked Christa from head to toe.
He placed one meaty hand on the woman’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, ladies, but we’re going to have to take you both downtown.”
∞ ♡ ∞
Christa
Jess and I, along with twenty-five other parents, high school students, and family members, piled into two police vans waiting to take us downtown. No one spoke. Jess settled into the seat next to me, staring stubbornly at the ground. When I reached for her hand, she pulled away. With an inward sigh, I leaned back against the wall to look at the other parents, all of whom avoided my gaze. This wasn’t my fault. No one else would see things that way.
What the hell was I thinking? I should have stayed in Canada. Where I would’ve been arrested. Maybe I should’ve gotten on the damn plane in the first place. Dan would be alive; I would be dead. Jess wouldn’t be getting arrested right now.
At the station, they lined us up and took us in one at a time for fingerprints and mug shots. The officer asked if I wanted to use my one phone call, but with Jess behind me in line for booking, I hadn’t the first clue who to call. Too bad my brother was in Japan, or I could’ve asked him for help.
That would have been an interesting call. “Hey, Brad, it’s me, Brett! Guess what? I’m alive now, and I go by Christa, and I have a vagina. Also, I’m in jail. Can you come bail me out? Thanks, Bro!”
Nearly an hour after we’d climbed into the van, an officer ushered me into a holding cell filled to what appeared to be nearly double its maximum capacity. Everyone moved out of the way when I entered. Ignoring their stares, I plopped down on a bench in the corner and waited, trying to remember if anyone I’d known in college went on to law school. A few minutes later, Jess joined me. At least she wasn’t so pissed she was pretending she didn’t know me.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she said. “Sorry about before. I just… was too furious with myself to let you comfort me.”
“…with yourself?”
“I shouldn’t have lost my temper. I should have been prepared to deal with these assholes. I should’ve—”
“Shh!” I put one arm around her. She stiffened but didn’t pull away. Another parent glared at us, but I ignored her. “You couldn’t have known. I should’ve prepared you better for the way people might react. This is my fault.”
She sighed. “People are such assholes.”
“Yeah.” There didn’t seem to be anything else to say.
“Anyway, I made a call,” she said. “We should be out of here soon.”
“Thanks,” I said. “How’s Ethan?”
“The officers said all the players who weren’t picked up after the game went to the coach’s house until someone with legal authority arrived to pick them up. He should be fine. Embarrassed, but fine.”
“That’s good, but I mean, who won the game?”
Jess’s lips pressed together into a thin line. “This is your biggest concern at the moment?”
“It’s an important game, Jess.”
She sighed and shook her head in overly faked exasperation. “We did. Final score, 21-14.”
I let out a cheer that earned me some surprised looks from the crowd until I shared the score. Then the entire cell erupted, united in our victory for a brief moment until the officer came in and told us to keep it down.
“At least Ethan had a good night before he found out about us,” I said. “I’ll start thinking about how to explain to him what happened.”
“You got attacked by bigots. I defended you. End of story.” That was nowhere near the end of the story; it barely scratched the surface. Without thinking, I’d set my son up for a life of bigotry, discrimination, and being forced to defend my decisions. That wasn’t fair to him.
“Jess?” A voice called from the other side of the bars. “Jess Cooper, where are you?”
She stood and jumped to see over the crowd. “Teddy! Hold on!”
My wife pushed her way through the crowd, and I fell into her wake, murmuring “Excuse me” to each person we passed, until I found myself pressed up against the bars looking at a very tall, dark, and handsome total stranger. Even after our fight, I expected Jess to have called her mother to come get us, but this wasn’t my mother-in-law.
“You know, I’d have bet good money that if we ever found ourselves looking at each other through a set of bars, our positions would be reversed,” the man said.
The man, presumably Teddy, was all perfectly chiseled muscles and gelled black hair that clearly hadn’t been in a riot. His smile revealed the kind of perfect white teeth that made me want to punch him,
especially after I saw how Jess gazed at this schmuck like he was her knight in shining armor. I was supposed to be her knight in shining armor. Her protector.
“More likely, you’d be in here with me, and I’d be alternating between calling myself a dozen types of asshole and cussing you out.” The two of them chuckled.
Who was this guy? Had Jess been hiding a boyfriend all this time? Even when we…?
I stepped toward the bars, about to say something, but Jess beat me to the punch. “Christa, this is my partner, Teddy.”
Her partner? She was seeing someone, and she never mentioned it? I’d just been swung at, hit with a purse, had a Big Gulp poured down my back. I sported a black eye, a split lip, and what I hoped weren’t bruised ribs. None of that compared to the pain knifing through me when Jess said, “my partner” referring to someone other than me.
As if he saw my pain, the man on the other side of the bars spoke. “Oh, no. She means I’m her business partner. The two of us started the practice together a few years ago.”
Oh, right. Duh. She must’ve mentioned his name at some point. My face grew warm, and I looked at the ground.
“Teddy and I met in medical school,” Jess said. “He decided I’d been grieving long enough and needed to experience the world again, so he forced me to join his study group. We’ve been platonic best friends ever since.”
I released a breath. “Okay, sorry. Of course I’ve heard of you, Teddy. It’s just been a long night. It’s nice to meet you.”
“I can only imagine. Now, Jess, I’ve posted bail for you, and you should be out once they finish processing.”
“Thanks,” she said. “I owe you one.”
“No shit. I also called my sister to go get Ethan so your mom wouldn’t have to hear about this from me. Unfortunately, she must’ve seen it on the news, because she pulled into the parking lot as I was waiting to post bail. I had to flirt with the front desk officer a LOT to stall her… and he makes Gilbert Gottfried look like a hot, young stud.”
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