Page 89 of Peppermint Bark

“I didn’t give it up, it’s still part of me,” I corrected, rolling up my sweater sleeve to reveal the Jeremiah 29:11 tattoo on the inside of my wrist. She seemed genuinely shocked, which didn’t make sense because even if I hadn’t shown her ... “Elijah and I got these the summer before he left. Didn’t he show you?”

“No, he didn’t —”

The sound of the garage door interrupted. Both Mama and I froze.

Hands on my hips and chin held high, I rose and faced the door, feeling Alex’s steadfast warmth at my back, a pillar of strength against the impending invasion.

When my father stepped inside, he resembled a faded version of himself: his belly had grown rounder, his hair sparser, and his wrinkles deeper, etched in lines of righteous judgment. His cold eyes locked on my face, and his top lip curled.

I felt lightheaded, to be in this moment that I’d envisioned as a potential homecoming and know, with that single look on his face, that it was about to all go horribly wrong.

“Still haven’t come to your senses, I see, Jeremiah. Remembered who you are.” Although it had been near a decade since I’d heard it, his voice still haunted my dreams, and hearing it made dread pool in my stomach.

Although I was unsteady, I’d had eight years to prepare for this face-off. He may be in his home, I reminded myself, but I’d set him off-balance by showing up unannounced. I knew him, but he didn’t know me. I had the upper hand.

Despite his tone, I kept my voice composed, “I know exactly who I am.”

Just as I expected, Dad spat out Scripture, his voice venomous. “A woman shall not wear a man’s garment, nor shall a man put on a woman’s cloak, for whoever does these things is an abomination to the Lord your God.”

“Deuteronomy 22,” I cited calmly. Of course he started with that. I could work with that. “That verse follows, ‘You shall not see your brother’s donkey fallen and ignore them. You shall help him to lift them up again.’ You’d treat a donkey better than your own flesh and blood.”

The unexpected barb hit him and he flinched before shifting back into hardness. “Romans 1. Claiming to be wise, they became fools, dishonoring their bodies, because they exchanged the truth about God for a lie.”

That verse, which hadn’t been in his arsenal eight years ago, landed like a verbal blow to my stomach. I felt myself reel, until I felt Alex’s steady hand on my low back. I’m still here, his hand said.

But Alex didn’t know how that would look to them. Dad didn’t see me as a woman, so he’d assume we were gay … and that would bring out the verses about Sodom and Gomorrah. I stepped. away from Alex’s supportive touch to avoid making things worse

“Galatians 3: For you are all sons and daughters of God. There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”

Dad’s jaw tightened, red rising along his jaw in frustration, then he pivoted towards Mama. “You let him into our home like this, after I told him —”

“What happened to mercy?” Mama pleaded. “Think of the Prodigal Son. ‘For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is …’”

“This is not my son,” Dad spat. “No son of mine would tarnish our family’s name like this.”

The door swung again, revealing a face from my nightmares. He’d grown into his beard, more handsome than ever … but his expression still exuded malice.

“Jeremiah!” Levi exclaimed in false bravado. “I guess we were right, all those years ago, when we called you Maya,” he said, flipping my hair.

I stood my ground, tilting my head away and using the disarming tone I’d practiced in conflict resolution seminars. “Don’t touch me.”

Before Levi could reply, Alex stood in front of me, pushing me back. “You touch her again, and I’ll —”

Levi crossed his arms as my father rasped, “Who are you?”

“Her boyfriend,” Alex answered.

Oh no. No, no, no. That was fine for Mama, but not —

“Are you blind?” Levi’s surprise transformed into a sneer. “Or just stupid?”

Alex stepped forward until their chests practically touched, his voice low and dripping with venom. “You shut your fucking mouth. Nobody talks that way about the woman I love.”

The woman I … what was he talking about? Why would he say that? Did he think he was helping? That would only make things worse.

I ran my hand down his arm and tugged his hand … but he didn’t budge, eyes locked with Levi in this ridiculous pissing contest.

“Who's prettier, Dad? Jeremiah or her pretty boy?” Levi taunted.

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