Love's Awakening (10 page)

“Does that make you think less of me?” Celia ventured.

“No,” Oliver said in a rush. “Of course not. Dad should have transitioned long ago and met someone in the body that fit him. Her.”

Celia sighed.
Find
a
distraction.
She dared not ask about Oliver’s children, so she glanced toward Chili’s. “I did some waitressing in college. Saw lots of families. Smiling. Laughing. There were couples who didn’t talk to each other. Couples of all ages and colors. Some weren’t even couples, but mother and son, or father and son. Whatever. They sat, drank, ate, maybe said something once in a while such as: ‘Oh, it might rain tomorrow,’ or ‘You have that hair appointment tomorrow, don’t you?’ “

“I know what you mean.”

“Are these types of people happy or sad? Happy they are so comfortable with each other they don’t need to talk, or sad that they have nothing to say to each other? That their life together is nothing anymore?”

“I hate to do this, but I gotta get back to work. We’re really busy. But stay awhile. I’ll comp you another drink. Or food.”

“No, that’s okay. I have to be going too. Thanks for taking the time you did.”

They walked to Celia’s car, and Celia asked: “Do you miss your father?”

Oliver cocked his head. “You want the truth?”

“Please.”

“Sometimes I miss him. Not as much as I should.”

“It wasn’t right of him to burden you with the secret. The note.”

“That’s life,” Oliver muttered. He kicked a pebble then met Celia’s gaze. “Hey, would you like to have lunch with me and Sebastian soon? Or dinner. Or coffee. Maybe talking with him would, uh…would help you.”

Celia liked the idea of spending more time with Oliver, and he was right—maybe his friend could help. “Sebastian, huh? Okay. Starbucks this weekend? I might have to bring the baby.”

“No problem. I’ll text you later with the time and which Starbucks.”

Celia wondered if she should hold out her hand for a handshake goodbye. Or attempt a hug? She and Oliver had held up well this evening. No awkwardness, no weird exchanges. Best not to ruin that. But Celia remembered Oliver looking at her breasts, these amazed eyes, that kiss. The power of Oliver’s erection as their tongues explored each other’s mouths. Celia’s heart went
thump-thump-thump.

Oliver’s gaze was hesitant, yet alert. Indifferent too, or trying to be. Celia wet her lips.
Do
you
still
want
to
touch
my
breasts,
Oliver?
She and Oliver could have a fling. Why not? A harmless little fling. Oliver was not in love with her. Oliver barely knew her. So a harmless little—Celia’s throat closed up. What the hell was she thinking?
No
fling,
no
fling.
Celia was done with David, but that did not mean lusting after her husband’s son was okay. Never mind what might happen if David woke up. Besides, the fact was that the kiss
had
come from somewhere. Oliver must have feelings for Celia, and she would not play with them.

But the kiss. The damn kiss played games with Celia’s mind. With her heart.

“Gotta go,” Oliver said.

“Can I ask you something?”

Oliver shuffled his feet. “You probably shouldn’t.”

Celia swallowed. “Okay. Good night.” She told herself a good night kiss would be okay. On the cheek, of course. Celia leaned in, and the kiss was no more than a brush, but damn. Oliver smelled strong. Felt virile. Tasted right.

Oliver kissed Celia back, on her cheek. “Good night,” he said.

Chapter
Nine

“Hey, Dad,” Oliver said on a Thursday a few weeks later. He would meet Celia that Saturday at Starbucks; Sebastian had been unavailable the past couple of weekends.

No reply from David.

Oliver took a seat at his father’s bedside. They were alone. “My class was cancelled, so I’m celebrating by coming to see you. How’d you make it this far, huh? Damn.”

Nothing.

Oliver wriggled the fingers on his left hand. “Free as a bird!” His cast had come off a few days ago. About damn time. “Not feeling chatty, Dad? Good thing I brought my textbook.” Oliver had fifty pages to read.

Nothing.

Oliver surveyed the tubes going into his father. Pitiful. Nurses rushed past the door. Someone coding? Dying?

“I told Celia,” Oliver whispered. “That you’re transgender. I did your dirty work for you.”

Oh
, he imagined David saying.

“She took it fairly well. She, uh, she would’ve tried to understand. She might even have stayed with…she’s great, Dad. You screwed up.”

Oliver imagined David closing his eyes.
I
know.

“Anyway.” Oliver opened his textbook. “The normal distribution was discovered in 1733 by the Hugueneot refugee Abraham de Moivre as an approximation to the binomial distribution when the number of trials is large.”

Zzzzz.

Oliver retrieved another item of reading material: a letter from Celia that arrived earlier that day. “Hey, Dad. Want to help me reply to this letter?”

David’s lips were set in a thin line.

“You want me to read it to you? Okay, then.”

Oliver:

You know that many constellations don’t look similar to what they’re named after, right? (Except the dippers. A square and a handle forming a spoon, I can see that.) But Leo? Do you know that one?

“No,” Oliver said to his father. “I hadn’t. I mean, I know ‘leo’ means lion, but I didn’t know there was a Leo constellation. I looked it up online.”

It’s supposed to be a lion. It’s actually a triangle and a bent clothes hanger. Look up a picture if you don’t know what it looks like. Some people reach for explanations. They have to see something with meaning. Anyway, I’m going to see you Saturday, so I’m not writing much. Getting snail mail is nice, isn’t it though? Well, I’ll see you soon.

- Celia

“What do you think, Dad?” Oliver asked. “You always wanted us to get along.”
But
not
like
this,
I
bet.

*****

The Starbucks was lively when Celia entered, and she did not see Oliver right away. Then there Oliver was, wearing a green shirt. He stood by a window table and waved Celia over. As Celia approached, another man stood to greet her. He was bespectacled, and his black hair was closely cropped. He was lean and tanned, and stubble dotted his jaws. He was one of the most handsome men Celia had laid eyes on. “Sebastian Coventry,” he said, and extended his hand. Deep, masculine voice.

“Celia.” They shook hands.

“I’ll get our drinks,” Oliver said. “What do you want?”

“Hey, congratulations. Your cast is off.”

“Sure is!” Oliver said with a grin.

Once Oliver was gone, Sebastian proffered a Snickers bar adorned with a red ribbon. “David told me Snickers is your favorite.”

Celia could not help but smile. When she and David dated, David would bring her Snickers bars with red ribbons. So—David had cared enough to tell Sebastian. “Thank you,” Celia said. “You want half?”

A broad grin. “Brought my own. Several, actually.” He reached into his messenger bag and sprinkled ten bars of various permutations—almond, peanut butter, and such—on the table. “I remembered Snickers was your favorite because it’s my husband’s favorite, too.”

“You’re married?”

Sebastian nodded. “Matthew and I have an open marriage. We married thirty years ago, long before I accepted I was a man.”

Celia nibbled on her bar. Her routine was to eat the top chocolate layer first, then the chocolate on the sides, then the peanut and caramel layer. Last but not least, she would devour the nougat and bottom chocolate layer. “So your husband stayed with you,” she said.

“We had a rough couple of years, but we worked it out. I was forty-four when I told him and our kids. I was forty-five when I started hormones. Forty-six when I had the surgeries. So, I’ve been Sebastian for ten years.” He smiled. “Never been happier.”

“You look forty. At the most.”

Sebastian bit off a big chunk of Snickers. “I know! It’s fantastic.”

“Were your kids okay?”

“Pretty much. Matthew and I played it cool. If we didn’t make a huge deal out of it, the kids wouldn’t think it was a huge deal.”

Celia nodded. “Makes sense. It was sweet of Oliver to set this up. How did you meet him?”

“We met two years ago in class. I hit on him. He laughed and said no way, he only liked the fairer type. We clicked and became fast friends.”

Celia blinked. “Oh. So the open marriage, it goes both ways? It’s not just for your husband.”

Sebastian nodded. “Right, yeah. I tell you what. I’m lucky that Oliver’s as straight as they come. I wouldn’t trade our friendship for anything.”

“That…that’s good.”

“David talked about you a lot.”

“How did you meet him?”

“Oliver and I partnered for a complicated project on taxes. Oliver said his father was a tax attorney and could help us. And he did, a hell of a lot. I took your husband out to a thank-you lunch, and Matthew came. Oliver too.”

Celia continued eating the Snickers. She vaguely remembered David mentioning the project.

“After lunch, David told Oliver that Matthew didn’t seem gay.” Sebastian chuckled. “Whatever gay seems like. Oliver told David the whole sordid story, that Matthew was a straight man married to a transgender. Fine with me. I don’t hide I used to be a woman. My past is part of who I am.”

“David should have told me. I would have tried to understand.”

“You’re right. She should have.”

“She.”

A grin. “She. Yeah.”

“Why didn’t he tell—” Celia stopped. She swallowed, the pronoun s
he
a blister on her tongue. “Why didn’t she tell me?”

“She’d rejected herself. You’d reject her, too. Or so she thought.”

“Did David have a female name picked out?”

A shadow crossed Sebastian’s expression. “She did, actually. Karen Alice Hall.”

“Karen Alice Hall.” Celia pictured her husband as a Karen Alice—wavy blond wig, fake eyelashes, giant boobs, green shimmery dress.

“She would’ve looked good,” Sebastian said mournfully.

*****

Oliver was glad he had set up a meeting with Sebastian. Sebastian and Celia talked easily, and three was definitely not a crowd. Oliver, Celia and Sebastian chatted for an hour. Not about David, though. They talked about Oliver’s and Sebastian’s MBA program, sports and politics.

At five o’clock, Sebastian got up to meet his family for dinner. “Sebastian’s nice,” Celia said after he left.

Oliver replied with a small smile. Celia sat next to him; Sebastian had been across from them.

Celia was lovely today. Okay, hell, she was lovely every day, and Oliver had struggled the past hour not to look overlong at her. She had laughed a lot with Sebastian, and by default, with Oliver too. Her eyes shone in a way Oliver had not noticed until Celia visited him at Azizi. Celia looked at him differently these days. Oliver
existed
for her now. Before the kiss, Celia had not been interested in Oliver as a man, as anyone more than her husband’s son.

Oliver hoped he had not opened a can of worms with the kiss. Bad enough that he had to pine after Celia. He did not want Celia pining for him, too. Why did the kiss have to be so good? So incredible, so perfect?
It
means
nothing,
just
that
the
both
of
us
are
really
good
kissers.

“Hey, Oliver,” Celia said. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I forgot to tell you this. Remember what you said about cows? Their eyes? I’ve been looking at pictures of cows. You’re right, their eyes are calming.”

“Told you so,” Oliver said with a grin. “I’m never wrong.”

Celia laughed. “Me either. Never, never wrong.”

It would be so easy for Oliver to put his hand on Celia’s knee, lean over and kiss her.
Shit
. Oliver’s brain felt like a crinkly old map. Handled and folded so many times it was faded and useless. He needed to stop overthinking the situation. Needed to stop lusting after his father’s wife.

“Nothing happened at my apartment,” Oliver said. “Understand?”

Celia licked her lips. “You mean the…the thing in your kitchen?”

“It didn’t happen.”

Celia crumpled her Snickers wrapper. It had lain untouched for the past hour. “Okay,” she said slowly. “It didn’t happen.”

“Right. Didn’t happen.” An affair would wreck him and Celia, and she deserved better.

Crinkle
crinkle
crinkle
went Celia’s hand with the wrapper, and Oliver pressed his hand over Celia’s, steadying it.

“Does Sebastian have a penis?” Celia asked.

“Nah. Some FTMs do, but the surgery isn’t quite there yet, especially to retain sensation. Maybe later.”

“He…Sebastian told me the name your father chose. The female name. Karen Alice.”

Oliver turned the name over in his mouth and in his head.
Karen
Alice.
Karen
Alice.
David
Patrick
Hall
becomes
Karen
Alice
Hall.
“It’s nice,” he said at last.

“I suppose.”

Celia made no move to separate their hands, and neither did Oliver.

Chapter
Ten

Celia had nothing against parades, and as far as they went, the St. Patrick’s Day parades were tops. They were not as showy or as glittery as the Thanksgiving and Christmas parades and did not take themselves seriously. People cheered loudly for Democratic and Republican politicians alike.

The parade of doctors about two months after the car crash reminded Celia of a parade staple, the clowns who fit into tiny cars, doctor-clowns with long faces and exaggerated frowns. The grave doctor-clowns showed Celia and the rest of the family brain scan after brain scan and explained that David’s brain stem was fine—but there was no cortical activity. Nothing was happening in David’s brain. Nothing
could
happen. The doctors liked to talk, their voices low, somber and all-knowing.