True Blessings

Chapter Six

Alone, Christie didn't set a table but filled a dish with her meal, grabbed the necessary utensils, then sat to eat. Sometimes she'd sit in her recliner to watch the news or, during warmer weather, sit outside.

But she now set the table – not formally, as she would for the holidays, but plates, fork, spoon and knife and cloth napkins.

She was happy Alice's mother had agreed to let her stay for dinner. Her influence on Sammy was wonderful.

She went to the basement to move laundry from the washer to the dryer and, as she did, overheard them talking. The divider between the two sides of the basement wasn't insulated and, although they tried to speak quietly, she could hear them talking about her. Using female pronouns as they talked, correcting each other when they slipped and used male ones.

She wiped a tear streaming down her cheek then placed a blouse in the dryer.

While worried for those in Texas affected by the disaster there, she felt the incident a blessing. As Elenore had said, it was giving Sammy time away from his father's transphobia and a chance for Alice to help him think.

As she put pants in the dryer, she chuckled. Tammy would be insisting God made this happen – the loving little jabs meant as poke-backs, retaliation for Christie's angry atheism.

"Yes, Tammy," she said as she closed the dryer door and started the machine. "I was a fool – an asshole."

She wipe another tear. "But I wonder how you'd feel about me now?"

She often asked the question, and usually Elenore or Janet would admonish her not to think anything. She didn't know and never would.

"Don't ruin thirty years of memories with worries Tammy may not have accepted you," Janet would say.

She was right, but Christie couldn't help the thought sometimes.

She opened the door to the entertainment room and paused at the foot of the stairs.

"Dinner will be ready soon. I'm putting the pasta on the stove now."

"Okay, Grandpa," Sammy said.

In the kitchen, Christie pulled a large pot from a cabinet and set it in the sink, turning the water on and positioning it over the pot. As it filled, she pulled a pound of fusilli from another cabinet and opened the box.

She was setting it on the stove when her phone rang. Looking, she saw the caller was Arnold.

"Hello, Son," she answered. "How was your trip?"

"Some turbulence but we arrived early this morning. I have a few moments after chow and thought I'd give Sammy a call, but he's not answering."

"He might have left his phone in the bedroom. He's entertaining a friend."

She imagined the scrunch of Arnold's brow as he asked, "Who?"

"A pretty young lady named Alice."

Now there was a hint of a smile, "Ah! Okay. He likes her."

"Yes, I noticed. And she seems a delightful girl.

"Let me call him."

She opened the basement door.

"Sammy, did you leave your phone upstairs? Your father is on my phone and says you're not answering!"

Sammy bolted up the stairs, taking two steps at a time.

"I did! I didn't think Dad would be calling till later tonight."

She handed him the phone and he took it.

"I'm sorry, Dad. My phone is in the bedroom, charging."

"That's okay, Son. How are things going?"

"Good."

"No issues with Dad?"

Sammy returned to the basement, closing the door behind him.

"No. She and I talked last night and I did some reading online about her gender dysphoria."

"She? Her? Sammy, I hope you aren't falling for his bullshit."

Sammy took a deep breath, looking at Alice, who looked at him curious when a frown crossed his face.

"Dad, I have to live with her while you're gone and, if I need to address Grampa as a woman to make the time go okay, I'm going to. It's made her happy already."

Alice held a thumb up with that comment and smiled at him.

"Do you have an idea how long you're going to be there?" he asked.

"As of now, it appears we will be here three weeks."

Sammy grimaced – that was too close to Christmas.

"I hope it's sooner, Dad."

Someone spoke to Arnold, who paused to answer, then he returned to the conversation.

"Okay, Son. I have to get moving. Several schoolbuses full of people just arrived and I need to help get them clothing and shelter. Tell Dad I sent him an email with a copy of my permission for you to take the bus to his house and for him to pick you up. He'll need to print it and bring it to school tomorrow."

"I will, Dad."

"Love you, Son. Be good – but don't let Dad brainwash you about his condition."

"I won't, Dad. Love you back!"

He pouted as he ended the call.

"He doesn't like you accepting your grampa?" Alice asked.

"No," he said with a shake of his head. "I don't know, Alice. I liked how happy Grampa was last night when I hugged him . . . her, and I liked the smile on her face this morning when I said I had read about gender dysphoria. I remember hugging Grampa all the time and it was great, except . . . I don't know.

"Since Grampa came out, family get-together with Grandpa were no longer fun because of how Dad and Mom felt about Grandpa. I wonder whether Dad read those links Grampa sent to us, or if he ignored them? May if he had read them, he'd think different like I am?"

The basement door opened, then, and Christie called out, "Dinner!"

"On our way," Sammy said.

Alice put her hand on his shoulder. "It'll work out okay, Sammy."

He touched her hand, feeling his heart start to beat faster. "I hope so, Alice," he said, looking into her eyes.

He turned for the stairs, but Alice grabbed his hand.

"Hey . . . "

He turned to her just as she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him.

Now his heart was out of control.