Just Passing

20. Here Comes the Storm

The rest of the day is a blur. I'm on autopilot. I get in my car and by the time I get home I don't even remember the drive. Sitting in the driveway, I place the car in park and take the keys out of the ignition. Deep breath. Am I going to tell Tiffany about Blake's mom?

I look to my right and see Spencer standing -literally- on the windowsill. He's banging on the glass. When I open the car door and get out I can hear a muffled, "I see Daddy!"

I plaster a smile on my face and wave ecstatically. Then I tiptoe up to the window, quickly duck down, and jump up with a, "Peek-a-boo!" He bursts out laughing and jumps down to the waiting couch.

"Hurry up and get in here, the kids miss you," Tiffany shouts so I can hear her through the closed window.

I walk to the end of the driveway and open the side door. Spencer and Nora both rush at me. "Daddy, I watch Daniel!"

"Oh yeah, you watched Daniel Tiger?"

"Da!" exclaims Nora. If she's agreeing about Daniel or saying my name, I don't know, but I put my bag down and sweep her up.

"Go wash your hands. It's flu season! Did you Purell in the car?" Tiffany scolds, taking Nora out of my arms. "And we only watched one Daniel when I got home from work and had to clean up."

"Hey, no judgment. Who doesn't love Daniel? And," I roll my eyes, "of course I Purelled."

I unbutton the wrists of my shirtsleeves, folding the fabric up my forearms before washing my hands at the kitchen sink. My hands aren't even lathered when Spencer starts grabbing on my pants. "Daddy, Daddy, play with cars. I want play with cars."

"Yup, one second, bud. I gotta sing the ABCs while I wash my hands. Will you sing with me?"

"Yes! A ... B ... C," he eagerly begins to sing. My beautiful boy.

"So glad the favorite has arrived home. I need a break after the day I had," Tiffany mumbles, plopping Nora down on the livingroom rug.

I wonder if I'll still be the favorite when they find out that I'm not their real dad.

I shake the thought from my head. "You deserve a break, babe. I'll take the kids into the playroom. Maybe just pizza tonight?"

"Mmmm, how about Vietnamese?"

"Sure, whatever." I dry my hands. "Come on guys, want to race cars?"

"Up," Nora demands, and I comply.

"Want to play with cars," Spencer takes my hand in his and pulls us down the hall. "Go to playroom with Daddy."

He pulls out the box with all of his cars and trucks and loudly dumps them all out onto the rug. Nora quickly grabs one, resulting in a, "No, Nora, mine!" I remind them to share and give Nora a different truck, which she luckily accepts. We soon settle onto the rug, pushing cars, and zoom-zooming.

I wish I could just play with my kids forever. Things are so much simpler when I'm with them.

Less than an hour (and several Duplos, sticker books, and stuffed animals) later, the doorbell rings. "Delivery! I want to say hi to man." Spencer opens the playroom door and runs out to where Tiffany is setting the table.

Dinner. Bath. Bedtime books. Tiffany and I don't talk about much while going through the well-established routines. But then we're both in bed, phones out, eyes unfocused. "Tough day?" I start.

"Don't really want to talk about work."

"Yeah, me either."

"Good." She turns back to her phone.

I should just drop it. It's obvious that neither of us really want to talk. Our brains are too exhausted for anything more thought consuming than the Real Housewives of Wherever. But, how will Tiffany feel if I just dropped this bomb on the family and delay telling her? It's a lie by omission. And I know from past experiences that avoiding conflict only makes it worse.

"Actually, there is something..." My voice trails off.

She pauses her show and turns to me, lips drawn in a straight line, eyes steely. "What?"

"Well, I sort of had an interesting conversation with Blake's mother today at our conference."

That gets her attention. She sits up all the way, places her phone down, and turns to face me. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you know, I ..."

"Spit it out, Xander," she interrupts before I can finish my sentence.

So, I take a deep breath and say it all in one rush. "I let her know that I'm trans and she thinks it would be good to tell Blake, and she also thinks that if I came out I'd have the support of the superintendent because there is already an out-trans teacher at the high school."

We're in the eye of the storm. The silence stretches, but I can see turbulence brewing on the surface of her features.

"You had no right to do that," she says evenly.

"You have no right to tell me not to."

Then the clouds break and the deluge begins. "I had a really fucking shitty day at work. Josh is up my ass about project deadlines. Amelia never responds to my emails. I'm the only one on my team pulling my weight and it feels like I'm drowning. I have a massive headache and the kids have been crazy. And now this? Really, Xander? And now this? I don't have the bandwidth for this crap right now. You better be fucking right about having job security, because, so help me God. Seriously. So help me. You know? I just can't right now. You have awful timing. I just can't. Just-just go sleep on the couch and let me finish my show."

"Ok." I don't want to fight. But her reaction also isn't unexpected. "Love you," I mumble as I grab my pillow and walk to the linen closet to grab an extra blanket.

On the bright side, at least we have a very comfortable couch.