True Blessings

Chapter Two

Christie watched Sammy walking in front of her – staying well ahead so others would not think they were together.

Her heart hurt as she thought of the days he had run to her, shouting, "Gampa, Gampa!" She would stoop, her arms open, and he would rush into them. She'd clamp her arms tight around him as he pressed his face to her chest.

"I love you, Gampa," he would say.

The potential of losing her grandchildren's love had been in her thoughts when deciding to face her dysphoria. She knew coming out wouldn't sit well with Arnold and Jennifer. She knew the asshole who raised them.

In the mall, she wanted to hug Sammy when she found him with his friends, but knew he would refuse the hug. That hurt, as did his comments she'd overheard. She forced the anger away, knowing he was repeating Arnold's words.

She wiped at tears and sniffled.

Members of a charity group were set up outside the entrance to the mall and eyed Christie and Sammy hopefully, then angrily as Christie just glared while passing.

"A little kindness for the poor?" one asked.

Christie paused. "I give to organizations open and accepting of the LGBTQ-plus community, not those like yours."

The masculine voice caused the man to glance at his woman partner, surprise written on his face.

"We give to all who need help," the woman said.

"Yeah?" Christie said with a laugh. "You have a poor history doing so, and still will not accept married gays into your religion. My money goes places I know openly support my community, such as the Northwood Community Church. Not yours."

"You need to find Jesus in your life, Sir," the woman said, harshly. "Find Him then you'll understand the error of your lifestyle!"

Christie was about to continue to the car but stopped.

"Really?" she asked, cocking her head aside as she looked into the woman's eyes. "How much of the Bible have you read? How much of Jesus's word?" She laughed. "I'm an atheist, but I often think I read more of the Bible than you supposed Christians!"

"How can you know anything of the Bible if you're an atheist?" the woman demanded.

Christie laughed again. "I was raised a Christian, but I lost faith in my teen years when I began to question how people could claim to know and love Christ yet act opposite his teachings."

She wagged her finger at the woman. "You need to find Jesus."

"Don't argue," the man warned his partner. "It's useless. You might as well talk to the wall!"

"Yes," Christie said, turning her head to him. "That's how I feel at the moment.

"Bright blessings and have a cool Yule," she said before turning for the parking lot.

Sammy watched the confrontation nervously, remembering other confrontations between his grandpa and religious people seeking donations during the holidays.

"Do you really read the Bible, Grampa?" Sammy asked as they walked through the parking lot.

The lot was filled now, and many cars stood idle, the drivers waiting for someone to leave. Several eyed her and Sammy, and she heard transmissions being put into drive. Although she was certain they wanted her space, she still felt nervous. Lonely parking lots had seen too many transgender women's lives end.

She reached into her purse and removed her keys, selecting one longer than the rest. It didn't open anything, but the serrated edge would hurt.

"Yes, I do, Sammy," she answered.

"Why? You don't believe in God. Dad says you always like arguing with religious people."

They were nearing Christie's car with two vehicles following. Christie pursed her lips. Years ago, she would have continued past her car to the convenience store then watched as the drivers angrily raced back toward the entrance to wait again.

She was embarrassed thinking how much an asshole he had been.

"I still do," she said. "But I find it entertaining throwing words from their religious book in their faces. Most haven't read beyond the verses preached by their leaders, who only cherry-pick the Bible to justify condemning my community and other marginalized people."

They arrived at the car and Christie tapped her key fob, unlocking the doors and turning on the dome light. She glanced into the rear-passenger window to ensure no one hid there then opened the door.

Sitting in the driver's seat, she reached for her seat belt and pulled it to the catch before starting the engine.

"I once was an angry atheist, Sammy. I believed religious people were trying to force their beliefs on me. I had gay and lesbian friends. I saw the hatred they received from Christians thinking they were doing right by their god, hate as bad a friend in school faced because he was black. We shared a locker in junior high and, one day, I went to get books from it and found the N word written all over the front with Magic Marker."

"Who did it?"

"Don't know," Christie said.

She backed from the space, turned the steering wheel left and put the car in drive, watching in the rearview as the first car that followed them sped into the space.

"Why do you read the Bible now? Did this . . . gender thing start you questioning?"

"No, Sammy. After I came out, I met religious, transgender people not interested in changing me. People more interested in helping me accept and deal with my gender dysphoria then pushing religion. The more time I spent with them, the more I realized I need to be as accepting of their beliefs as I want people accepting me."

Sammy stared out the front window.

"I still don't understand you, Grampa."

Christie turned into the lane that led to the traffic lights on Fort Street. She turned on her left-turn blinker and stopped behind another car already waiting.

"I know, Sammy," she said. "But I don't want you hating me."

"I don't, Grampa."

Christie didn't reply, only asking, "Are you hungry yet?"

"A little."

"Where do you want to eat?"

"Pizza?"

Christie smiled. "Okay."

As the left-turn arrow blinked on, Christie follow the car in front onto Fort Street, thinking how the conversation she had just had with Sammy was probably the longest she'd had with him since coming out.