A Fine Bromance

by Christopher Hawthorne Moss

  Thinking his uncle’s reaction was a bit odd, Robby nevertheless reassured him that so far the items were being returned to their homes.

  A doctor came in a short time later and explained to his mother and uncle that Mrs. Beaumont was going to be admitted to the hospital for at least one night to monitor her brain health. He explained the CT scans were clear, but he felt she needed to be watched.

  “How is she taking it? Being admitted to the hospital, I mean?”

  The doctor looked at Robby and answered his question. “She is impatient, of course, and annoyed. Maybe if you could go see her in her new room in the observation unit and find out if she needs anything from home or anyone called….”

  Robby was ready to go see her immediately but had to wait until he got the go-ahead that Ivy was in her room. His mother told him, “I have a lot of things to do today. Can you and Roger handle it?”

  Robby was annoyed that his mother would bail at a time like this. He reluctantly agreed. She gathered up her purse and coat and took off out the door of the waiting room.

  Turning to his uncle, he asked, “I suppose you have things to do too?”

  Uncle Roger looked harried. “Yes, but I’ll go see her when she’s in her room.” He seemed irritated and didn’t speak to Robby again.

  Robby and Roger made their way to the fifth floor of the hospital wing. Aunt Ivy was in a bed in a single room across from the nurses’ station. He found her fuming. “The CT scan was clear. I don’t know why they have to keep me here. I’m sorry I suggested we come.”

  Uncle Roger was fawning and condescending. “Now, Ivy, you know they just want to keep you overnight to make sure you’re fine.”

  “But what about Mr. Duck? He’s all alone. Who will feed him?”

  Robby hurried to reassure her. “I’ll go to your house and look after him. I can straighten up for you while I’m there.”

  Ivy looked at him gratefully. “Look for those plates too, while you’re at it. And can you stay there overnight? Mr. Duck isn’t used to being left alone in the dark.”

  “Now, Ivy,” Uncle Roger began.

  “I’ll sleep on the couch,” Robby interrupted. “It’s no trouble at all.” He thought about his fight with Claire and the tension with their mother and was just as happy to be out of their house.

  “You’re such a good boy, Robby.”

  His uncle Roger stayed only a short time after, making a big deal of whether Ivy had all she needed and vexing the nurses. When a respiratory technician came in to test Ivy’s blood oxygen, Roger asked him if she needed a respirator. The young Asian man reassured him that she was breathing fine on her own, and when Roger querulously demanded to know what would happen if that changed, the man told him he would be in regularly to check and that the nurses would tell him if he needed to come back right away.

  “Well, can I give you a lift to Ivy’s house or anywhere?” Roger asked Robby when the technician left.

  Robby looked at Ivy, who told him, “Yes, it’s a long way back there, and I don’t want you to have to find a ride later. You go on home. You can call me and check in if you need to.”

  Reluctantly he accepted his uncle’s offer. After reassuring himself and Ivy that everyone, including Mr. Duck, would have everything they needed, Robby followed his uncle to the parking garage to get into Roger’s SUV. Roger quickly moved a box from the passenger seat, putting it as far back in the SUV as he could.

  As they drove toward Ivy’s house, Roger quizzed him about what had been going on with Ivy. He seemed surprised and chewed on his lower lip as he listened.

  At Ivy’s house Robby let himself in with his key, glad to discover both the front and back doors were locked from their rush to head to the hospital. He found Mr. Duck in Ivy’s bedroom on the coverlet on her bed. He sat and stroked the big orange cat on his throat and scratched his ears. “You aren’t the one taking all these things, are you?” he asked. The cat gave him an offended look, got up, and jumped off the bed, running out the bedroom door to hiding spots unknown.

  Chapter 7

  THE WHOLE family gathered at Aunt Ivy’s house for Thanksgiving. She had come back from the hospital on the previous Monday, and it was driving her crazy how solicitous everybody was toward her welfare. She kept insisting that the CT scans and other tests came back well within healthy ranges. No one had anything to worry about. She was sure she would be around for another twenty years.

  One precocious great-grandnephew piped up, “But Aunt Ivy, you would be over a hundred then!”

  Present were Aunt Ivy, of course, and Robby, his sister, and mother. Uncle Roger was there, though he had divorced his wife some time before, and she and her kids, a couple of them his too, were back east. Aunt Norma had driven from Portland, Oregon, with her husband, Stephen, and their five kids: the precocious nephew, Micah; the twins, May and Marie; their sister, Toni; and the littlest boy, Craig. One of Aunt Ivy’s former fellow teachers from the high school, Sister Mary Elizabeth O’Keefe, was a yearly fixture, and a bag boy from the supermarket, a developmentally delayed adult named Otis, was at dinner for the seventh time.

  Micah announced at one point, “That’s fourteen people! So you think we have enough pumpkin pie?” which won him a round of laughter, except for Otis, who worried and offered to go to the supermarket for another.

  The meal was potluck but orchestrated. The turkey, all twenty-five pounds of it, came out of Ivy’s oven golden brown and steaming. Sister Mary Elizabeth made the stuffing, though apparently she and Ivy had a tiff about whether to use Rachel Ray’s recipe, which had the stuffing cooked outside the bird and only vegetables inside. Ivy said this was nonsense, that the stuffing lent its aroma to the bird and the bird to the stuffing. “That woman needs to stick to her Italian rock musician and leave us poor folks to our own traditions.”

  There were mashed potatoes and gravy, green bean casserole, yams with tiny marshmallows, cranberry sauce, rolls supplied by Otis, wine supplied by Aunt Norma and her family, and the pies Robby and Claire’s mother had bought. There were “relishes”: sweet pickles, black olives, and someone actually found sliced cinnamon apples.

  Sister Mary Elizabeth supplied a short standard Catholic grace, which Uncle Stephen finished with “Rub a dub dub, thanks for the grub, yay God” as he did every year.

  There was a children’s table—a card table set up to the side of the dining room table—where only Norma’s and Stephen’s kids had to sit. Thankfully Robby and Claire were allowed to sit with the adults, and as a result, they were offered wine. Robby declined, and he soon wished Claire had done the same.

  Sometime during the second helpings, Claire started to giggle. She finally blurted out, “Robby’s got a girlfriend!”

  He looked up at her, startled. “I do?”

  Claire giggled some more, then said in a stage whisper, “Her name is Andrea, but she goes by Andy.”

  His face grew red with irritation. He glanced around the table to see all the adults looking at him with eyebrows raised and questions in their eyes.

  All except for Aunt Ivy. She spoke up. “Silly girl. Andy’s not a girl. He’s a boy!” She looked at the others, smiling. “I met him. Robby brought him over when he brought the pies. Very nice boy. Claire, are you mixing up some other girl’s name?”

  Claire inserted into the confusion, “But Andy is a girl. She just pretends she’s a boy.”

  Aunt Norma said, “Now why would she do that, Claire?”

  Uncle Stephen joked, “Maybe she wants to be one.”

  Robby stared daggers at Claire, but then he glanced at his mother, who sat looking confused.

  “I thought Andy was the new boy in town? Isn’t he?” their mother asked.

  “She’s a trannie,” shared Claire. “She had an operation to remove her uterus and breasts.” Claire stumbled over the S’s in “uterus” and “breasts.”

  Robby had a mouthful of stuffing and gravy, so he wasn’t easy to understand when he protested Claire’s sharing An
dy’s private business. He shook his head but didn’t correct her about the timing of Andy’s top surgery.

  Micah had gotten up from the children’s table and stood by his father. “Why would she do that, Dad?” He looked at his mother. “What’s a trannie?”

  Robby stood up at that point, throwing his napkin onto his plate. “Claire, that’s enough!” he snapped.

  Their mother looked from son to daughter and back. “Claire, are you saying that Andy is having a sex change?”

  Stephen got up and grabbed Micah’s arm to lead him out of the dining room.

  Aunt Ivy cleared her throat and sat with her fists clenched. She said in a clear, hard voice, “Be quiet, everyone. This is our family Thanksgiving dinner, and we are going to eat it with peace and understanding, just as the Sister’s prayer said. Andy is his own person, and what he does is his business. ‘Judge not that ye be not judged’ is what scripture says.”

  Claire looked at Ivy, all innocence. “I didn’t condemn her. I just said she was a trannie.”

  Robby left the table and went to the hall closet, where he retrieved his jacket and hat.

  Ivy caught up with him as he was shutting the front door behind him. She reached out and grasped his coat sleeve. “Robby, please. Don’t let Claire ruin your Thanksgiving. Come back and finish your dinner.”

  He looked at her, his eyes still flaming. “Ask her who she’s been spending time with and what she’s been doing. Claire is not the angel you think she is. She has some bad friends.”

  Ivy loosed her grip on his jacket, and he fled down the stairs and to the sidewalk.

  Robby walked fast, heading nowhere in particular. He kept imagining the conversation back at Ivy’s after he left. Uncle Stephen would be chastening Micah for simply asking the questions, and Aunt Norma would be telling him it was just innocent curiosity. Claire would be playing all innocent with big shocked eyes. Their mother would be asking for details. Otis would just keep eating, and Sister Mary Elizabeth would be dumb with confused horror. Aunt Ivy would eat on in stern silence. The youngest children would sit with big round scared eyes, and the twins would have their heads together whispering. But at least he didn’t have to listen to it.

  He started to wonder where he was going. He seemed to be more or less headed to his family’s apartment, but then he realized he was in front of Andy’s condo. Andy had pointed it out to Robby once when Claire dropped him off at home. He stood looking at the flats of condos all in a row. The shorter building down the row was either a resident clubhouse or pool or some other thing. He remembered which of the condos Andy had gone into and set his steps in that direction, then rang the bell when he reached the door.

  A tall, bearded man answered when he reached to knock. “May I help you?” he asked. He had short hair, a black turtleneck, and a bright red vest on over it. He wore glasses and was holding a dinner napkin in his hand.

  “I’m sorry to disturb your dinner. I’m Andy’s friend Robby. Is he here?”

  Andy appeared at his father’s elbow. “Well, of course I am. It’s Thanksgiving, after all. Why aren’t you at your Aunt Ivy’s?”

  The man stepped back and gestured for Robby to come in, which he did, nodding at Andy. “Hi, Andy. They… um… got done with their dinner, and I thought I’d come see how you were doing.”

  A large woman with dark hair and wearing a sweater and stretch pants came toward him, smiling.

  Andy hastily introduced them. “Robby, this is my mom. Mom, this is Robby, my friend from school. And this is my dad. And my brother, Gabe.”

  Mrs. Kahn beamed. “Robby, how good it is to meet you. Andy has told us all about you. Come in. Gabe, please go get another chair and another place setting. You will sit with us while we finish our dinner, won’t you?”

  Gabe was already out of the room, but when he came back in with plates and silverware, Robby saw he was a tall, possibly ten-year-old boy wearing a yarmulke. Robby realized Andy’s father was wearing one too, but Andy wasn’t. He gave Andy a questioning look, but Andy didn’t seem to notice. Then he remembered Andy saying he didn’t follow all the observances, and assumed that was why.

  Robby found himself seated next to Andy at the table. Robby respectfully declined Mrs. Kahn’s offer of food, saying he was already full. He accepted a glass of iced tea when offered but turned down the wine. He sat big-eyed while the family finished eating and just listened as Andy’s mother babbled on about how wonderful it was to see her older son had a nice friend here in the city.

  Mr. Kahn asked Robby about his family, about school, about where he lived, and smiled and nodded sagely at his answers. Gabe was quiet. He just ate and watched Robby. Andy seemed nonplussed by Robby’s appearance.

  When they’d finished eating, Mrs. Kahn suggested Andy take Robby up to his room to show him his computer while she got pie and whipped cream for them all.

  Once upstairs, Andy looked hard at Robby. “Why did you really come?”

  Robby gave him an apologetic look. “Family stuff, an argument. I got mad and walked out.”

  Andy’s eyebrows went up. “Jeez,” he said. Then he asked, “Claire?”

  Nodding, Robby looked around for somewhere to sit. He finally just sat on the edge of the bed. The room looked like his own, with a desk and computer, neutral-color drapes and bedspread, and nothing but boy’s things around, except for a teddy bear on the bed by the pillow.

  “Nice room,” he said.

  Andy put his hands on his hips and tilted his head. “No girl stuff, huh?”

  Robby glared. “No, of course not.”

  Andy sat down on the desk chair at the computer. “So she knows and she spilled the beans.”

  Robby looked at him earnestly and said, “I didn’t say anything to her about you one way or another.”

  “I believe you. It’s that crowd she’s hanging with now,” Andy said. He looked long at Robby and finally asked, “Don’t you have any questions?”

  Robby stared at him. “No. Why should I? It’s obvious you’re a guy, and you dress and act like a guy.”

  Andy’s face softened for a moment. “Thank you” was all he said. He looked at his knees, where he had his hands clasped. “You want to listen to some music or something?”

  Shrugging, Robby asked, “What do you have?”

  Andy turned to his computer’s monitor. “I have the whole world, right here.” He moved the mouse, which awoke the monitor, then double-clicked on an icon on the desktop. “I like oldies mostly, like early seventies, but I have stuff from all times. Even the Renaissance.”

  After getting up to look over Andy’s shoulder at the monitor, Robby scanned the list of titles on the screen. “Hey, you have Adam Lambert!”

  He highlighted the album titled Trespassing and clicked to start it playing. Soon Adam’s voice was belting out a line about a sign that said No Trespassing. Both boys joined in on singing the chorus.

  They laughed when they looked at each other, pointing their thumbs at their respective chests.

  When the song was over, Andy reached over to switch the player off. “Time for pie!” he announced.

  Robby followed Andy into the living room, where plates of pie had been set out with forks. Each slice had a mountain of whipped cream on it. Andy and Robby took seats on the couch and each accepted a plate of pie. It was obvious from the first bite that the pie was homemade, and the whipped cream too.

  Andy’s mom started to explain that the family had moved north so Andy’s dad could take a job with Microsoft.

  “He knows,” Andy interrupted.

  Mrs. Kahn looked at Andy. “He knows… about you? How does he know?” She looked challengingly at him.

  “I outed myself by accident,” Andy interrupted to save Robby explaining.

  Mrs. Kahn and her husband exchanged looks. She looked back at Robby. “I suppose that can’t be helped. I told Andy he needs to do what makes him feel comfortable. If he wants people to know, that’s fine. If not, he needs to be ready to explai
n away slips.”

  Robby looked from Mrs. Kahn to her husband and her two sons. “You are so accepting. I wish the world was more like you.”

  Mr. Kahn echoed, “Me too.”

  Gabe shrugged. “Me too. I don’t care if she’s my sister or he’s my brother. He’s a pain in the butt either way.”

  His impish smile countered the condemnatory looks from both his parents. Mrs. Kahn said, “Oh, Gabriel!”

  Sitting, eating pie, and drinking more iced tea, Robby found himself relaxing. He listened to the Kahns and their kids talk about everything, from school to music to television shows to the news. Gabe chimed in for a while, then excused himself to go listen to “tunes” on his iPod.

  Finally Robby couldn’t ignore any longer that he was going to have to go home and face the music. He got up, shook hands with Mr. and Mrs. Kahn, and went out the front door after picking up his jacket and hat. Andy followed him.

  “That was really nice,” Robby said. “Your family is great.”

  Andy smiled at him. “It was touch and go at first. Even as liberal as they are, it was hard for them to accept when I first told them. But then they joined Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays and also talked to that guy Aidan Key from Gender Odyssey. Now you’d think they invented transgenderism.”

  “Gender Odyssey?” Robby asked.

  “It’s an organization to help transgender people and their families get information and support,” Andy explained. “It’s based right here in the Seattle area. The director, Mr. Key, is a transman himself and works with school districts on policies to deal with transgender students. I got to meet him, and he helped me find some support groups for trans kids.”

  “And Gabe?”

  “You heard him. I’m a pain in the butt either way.”

  As he zipped up his jacket, Robby asked Andy, “What do they think about Smartass and all the stupid things that have happened at school?”