Page 19 of Rhett

“Never mind. Ignore me.” He tries to skate again, hand still firmly on the ledge. He’s moving haltingly but still going. I keep close to him, hands to myself, but staying near in case he needs me. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Stay here with me. I’m an adult. I can manage.”

“Maybe I want to skate with you.” Which is true.

“Hi, Dad! Hi, Rhett!” Meadow skates by us, she and her friends laughing together.

“God, I love seeing her like that,” slips out.

Rhett watches me as we move around the edge of the ice. “With her friends?”

“Yeah. That and being happy. I worried when she started socially transitioning. I didn’t know how it would affect her at school and with her friends. Even before she told me she’s trans, I had an…I don’t know, parental instinct that something was different. She gravitated toward friendships with girls and small things like that. I had no idea what it meant—if anything. I know those things don’t necessarily mean anything, so I tried not to make assumptions. When she told me we were wrong about her and that she’s a girl, I…well, I hate to admit it, but it rocked my world at first. It’s not something I’d considered.”

“I think that’s understandable.”

“Yeah, but I wish I hadn’t felt that way. I didn’t know anything about being trans or having a trans child. I was confused, but more importantly I was scared for her. I wanted her to have as easy a life as possible, and I knew her truth would give her more struggles.”

“But you supported her. That’s what will help make it easier on her.”

“I hope so. I’m always afraid I’m doing something wrong.” I chuckle. “But her happiness was still the most important thing to me, so I listened, learned, and supported her.” It had been a process, going to therapy, separately and together. Talking to doctors, specialists. “As she started to socially transition—first around the family, when she chose her name and when we called hersheand she wore dresses—I saw how much her confidence grew. It made me realize she’d always been holding back before but that she wasn’t anymore.” I shake my head. “Sorry for word-vomiting. Shit. We keep apologizing back and forth. I’m not sure what made me share all that. I guess because it’s her birthday.” And maybe because I like talking to Rhett.

He slows even more, his grip on the ledge tightening. “I think it’s great. Brave.”

“So fucking brave, right? Before she was ten, she knew herself better than most adults I know.”

“You too.”

“Me too what?”

“Brave,” Rhett replies.

“All I did was love her.”

“Not everyone does that.”

No, no they don’t. “Thank you. It didn’t feel brave for me, though. Just natural to want to protect my child. Anyway, Jasmine and Kaylee were her best friends before she socially transitioned, and she was scared to tell them. We waited until the start of a new school year. I’d met with the school and talkedwith their parents. Fortunately, the girls and their parents were accepting and affirming. Honestly, I was more worried about the adults.”

“Grown folks can be terrible,” Rhett says.

“They can. We’ve been pretty lucky so far. I can’t pretend it’s always been easy. There are hateful people everywhere. There’s been some bullying and negativity, but we work through that together, and she’s got Jasmine and Kaylee.”

“You two are slow.” Meadow skates over to us. This time, she’s alone.

“We’re old. Cut us some slack,” I joke.

“Here. I’ll help you.” Meadow offers her hand to Rhett. He doesn’t take it right away, and she says, “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

But unlike with me, Rhett unfolds his arm for her. Their hands clasp together, and when she eases away from the wall, Rhett goes with her. I stop moving, watching their backs as the two of them slowly skate away, Rhett trusting her in a way he didn’t do with me. Maybe a little inspired by her fearlessness and zest for life and digging deep to find his own. When they almost slip, legs and arms flailing, and then the two of them laugh together, the sight hits me like a bolt of lightning to the chest.

I think it’s the first time I’ve ever seen Rhett Swift laugh, and I wish they were close enough so I could hear the sound.

When I get back around to the other side, I exit the ice. Easton and Archer are sitting at the table.

“I hate skating,” Easton says, making Archer chuckle.

“Look at your brother,” I tell him. “Maybe that will help.”

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