Autumn Anecdotes

Thanks (Pt. 1)

You: okay, but what if they freak out or kick me out or disown me

Julian: Then you can always  have Thanksgiving with us. My parents would be so happy to have you. I'm pretty sure I heard my mom call you"the son she never had" like I wasn't right there.

You: your mom's the best, I'll let you know

Julian: Keep my updated, my love.

I want to respond to the last message, but the stoplight turned green and I had to continue on the ride to my parent's house. My old car sputtered and shook as the ride continued, my luggage clattered in the back. Sure, the car was on it's last leg, but I liked the old gal.

I rounded the corner, entering the small neighborhood I grew up in. Everything was the same, though I'd just been away at college for a few months.

I pull in to the two story blue house and the gravel crunches beneath the wheels. I take a deep breath as my mom charges out the front door and right to my car, ripping the car door open to wrap me in a hug.

"Oh, my sweet darling girl, how have you been? You're so skinny, have you been eating well? Do you have a boyfriend? Your dad will get your bags, come in, come in."

Words were racing out of her mouth at a million miles per hour. Before I could comprehend what she'd said, she was practically dragging me inside.

"Jacklyn's home!" my mom shouted into the house.

We entered the living room and there sat my sisters and my grandparents.

Estelle, the eldest of us rushed to greet me first.

"Ahhh! Jackie! I haven't seen you in forever!"

She jumped up and down, crushing me in her grasp.

My younger sister, Belle, who was still in her junior year of high school stood up, much less enthusiastically, but happy none the less, and gave me a far more bearable hug. 

"Hey, Jax," she said, having full knowledge that Jacklyn or Jackie made my head itch.

"Why did you cut your hair?" my grandmother asked in her thick french accent, clearly annoyed, "It makes you look like a boy."

A part of me felt happy that she thought I looked like a boy, the other half was hurt that she still believes me to be a girl.

"Honey, did you wear that cute dress I sent you?" my mother questioned, "All you ever wear now days is baggy hoodies, you have a lovely body, you should show it off."

My father entered the room, dragging my luggage behind him.

"Any boyfriends I have to kill?" he laughed, dropping my bags by the door and wrapping me in a bear hug.

"Actually..."

"Oh my goshhhhhh!" Estelle screeched excitedly, "Who?!"

"Um, his name is Julian, he's just the sweetest and he's a botany major."

"Aw, well, you can tell us more over dinner," my mom said, untying her turkey print apron, "Go bring your things up to your old bedroom. Dinner will be ready in five."

I brought my suitcase up the stairs, the weight slamming against each step. I reach the top and made an immediate right. Estelle's bags were in the room, I guessed we were rooming together.

I put my suitcase on my old bed and began unpacking my clothes into the empty drawers, making sure to tuck my binder into the bottom so Estelle wouldn't find it on accident.

I rush down stairs, taking a place near the center of the dining room table. My mom puts the fish, rice, and asparagus on the table.

"Eat up, we have a long day of cooking tomorrow," mom said, sing songedly.

She's always so chipper, I don't know how she does it.

"So, Jackie," Estelle says, teasingly, "Tell us about your boooyfrieeend."

"Well, we met in our creative writing elective," I tell them, "And he lives a couple hours from here."

"And?" Belle asked.

"And he wants to open up his own flower shop."

"Flower shop?" my grandmother grunted, "Are you sure he isn't gay?"

I panic for a second. Of course he's gay. He and I are gay. That's why we're dating. But they don't know I'm trans. They don't know I'm a guy. I can't tell them he is or I am or anything I want to tell them.

All I say is "Haha, anyway, pass me the rice."

Make sure to vote if you enjoyed and come back next week for part two!