Chapter 10

Glenn parked at The Palace diner and Carla parked nearby. They headed inside and occupied a booth.

“Marcus seems like a nice boy,” Sierra remarked.

“I like him a lot,” Jackie replied. “He’s kind and he listens to what I say. Carla -- I know it’s a lot to ask but can you get an extra ticket to the Melonheads concert? Marcus likes them, too, and I’d like to invite him to come with us ... if that’s okay.”

“If Carla can score tickets, of course you may invite him,” Sierra replied.

A server approached to take their orders. “Large extra thick chocolate malt,” Glenn ordered.

“I’ll have the same,” Jackie added.

“Vanilla shake,” said Carla, “medium, please.”

Their server looked toward Sierra. “Large hot fudge sundae with whipped cream and a cherry.”

“Coming up.” The server turned and left, then returned with water glasses, napkins and spoons.

“Carla is co-founder of a support group for LGBT families,” Glenn remarked.

“Yes,” Carla replied. “You might want to join. Dues are ten dollars a month or a hundred for a year. We use the money to support our online resources as well as our community outreach programs. On line we have professional referrals, community news, a blog and a discussion forum. We also have a legal fund.”

“Sounds worthwhile,” Glenn replied.

“Jackie, I’d like to post your composition on our site. I think it might be inspirational for other kids facing what you are.”

“Sure, Carla. I’ll get a copy to you.”

“By the way, could I get a copy of that counseling flyer?” Carla asked, “I’d like to check them out. I’d like to see if they are running a conversion therapy program under the guise of counseling.”

Their server brought their orders. “Anything else, folks?”

Carla looked around the table. “Just the check, I guess,” she said.

“Very well.”

“What’s conversion therapy?” Jackie asked.

“It’s based on the discredited notion that we are all born straight and with gender identities matching our anatomies; and, that we become gay, trans or both from corrupting influences. This belief remains popular in some conservative faiths. They believe that these corrupting influences can be reversed through various so-called therapies and that we can be cured from being gay or trans.”

“I’ve been like this as far back as I remember,” Jackie said. “I don’t want to be cured.”

“Me, too. The scientific view is that what causes us to be gay or straight, or trans or not, is complex and not fully understood. Genetics are a factor, as are environment and maybe even pre-natal events. What is in general agreement is that once our orientation and gender identities are cemented they’re locked in. This happens around your age, Jackie, and you can’t be cured of being trans any more than you can be cured of having blue eyes.”

“What can you do about it?” Glenn asked.

“Evidence is strong that these therapies are worse than worthless,” Carla replied. “They do far more damage than good and the suicide rate is higher for those who have completed the programs than for those who haven’t. This is so compelling that conversion therapy has been banned in this state. We have volunteers, mainly gays in their mid-teens, who have been trained to infiltrate these groups and collect evidence. If what they’re doing meets the definition of illegal conversion therapy, we go to the authorities. We have shut down three or four such operations since it was outlawed.”

“Wow,” Sierra said, “I’m impressed. You are doing good work.”

Jackie sucked dry her malt. “That was good,” she said and pressed her hand to her belly. “It also was big. I think my stomach is bulging out.”

“I haven’t had a sundae like that in years,” Sierra added. “Carla, thanks for treating us.”

Carla put bills on the table to cover the check and tip. She closed her purse. “It’s the least I can do. I love reconnecting with my cousin and getting to know Jackie better. If there’s anything I can do to help, don’t hesitate. This is a block I’ve been around before.”

“If we’re done here,” Glenn said as he stood and stretched.

“I’ll get that flyer,” Jackie said as they headed to the parking lot.

Glenn sat on the sofa in the apartment over the shop with his tablet on his lap. Sierra stepped in. “What a day,” she exclaimed as she sat beside him. “I’m ready for a stiff one.”

“Drink?” Glenn asked.

“Among others.” She stood and put ice into a pair of rocks glasses.

“What are you planning on pouring? The best of your best?”

“I’m thinking the best of my pretty good.”

“I think tonight calls for best of the best.”

“I’m not sure that Jackie’s reading, good as it was, rises to that level.”

“The night’s still young.”

Sierra regarded him for a long moment. “You have something up your sleeve,” she said.

“Only my arm.”

“You’re up to something. I can tell from that twinkle in your eye. All right, best of the best.”

She handed him a glass. He swirled its contents and inhaled its aroma. Sierra sat beside him and he put his hand on her knee. “I’ll let the ice mellow it for a bit.”

“Not too long. It’s overproof but not cask strength.”

“By the way, do you remember what Jackie called me in her composition?”

“No. What?”

“She said I was her stepdad-to-be.”

“I must have missed that. It sounds so like her. She can let fantasy cloud reality.”

“You think that’s fantasy?”

“Wishful thinking, then. I know she loves you -- as much as any girl could love her biological dad.”

“I think we should make it official. You know I hate disappointing her.” With that he stood, faced her, dropped to one knee and took her hand into his. “Sierra Poole, will you marry me?”

Her jaw dropped and she placed her hand on her chest. “Oh, my God. Yes! In an instant, in a heartbeat, in a flash, yes!” She stood and they embraced and kissed. “I knew we were headed this way but not this soon.”

“I knew we were headed this way, too. Why put off the inevitable?”

“Why indeed?”

He picked up his glass. “So, now is tonight worthy of the best of the best?”

“It’s worthy of better than the best ... but this is the best I have.” They clinked rims and sipped from their glasses.

“Mmm,” Glenn said, “this is so smooth and mellow -- I barely feel it going down.”

“We need to tell Jackie. Jackie!” she called.

“She’s probably listening to music and can’t hear you.”

Sierra went into Jackie’s room and returned with her. She wore an oversized tee shirt. “What?” Jackie asked.

“Tell her, Glenn.”

“I just asked your mom to marry me.”

“And I just said yes.”

Jackie ran to Glenn and hugged him. He kissed the top of her head. “This means you’ll be my stepdad for real.”

“Once we’re married I intend to ask a judge to let me adopt you so I can be your legal father. Would you like that?”

She hugged him again. “Very much. Can I call you Dad?”

“Let’s wait for it to be official.”

“Hey,” Sierra said, “what am I? Chopped liver?”

Jackie ran to her and hugged her. “I love you, Mom. I’m so happy.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart. Now it’s lights out in ten minutes.”

“Okay, but I don’t think I can get to sleep. Good night.”

“Good night,” Glenn said.

Jackie headed back into her room. “I’ll admit to being a little jealous, Glenn. I know you’re what she needs. You’re a role model, a man who demonstrates care for his partner and for her. I didn’t have that. I love my parents and they love me. They were good providers, but neither were very demonstrative. My father was rather aloof. I think he wanted a boy. If I had had the kind of role model you are for Jackie, maybe I wouldn’t have made the mistakes I made. What am I talking about? What kind of relationship will she have?”

“Exactly the kind she wants to have,” Glenn replied. “Look at Carla. She’s in a stable and loving relationship with Wendy. Jackie will find someone who’ll accept her and love her for what she is. Someone like Marcus.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“We need to go shopping for a ring,” he said.

“No, Glenn. I don’t want an engagement ring. With money as tight as it is ... The last time one of the machines in the shop broke down it was a four-figure repair bill. I’d look at it on my finger and think, that’s the repair bill right there.”

“It’s my money -- I can afford it.”

“Once we’re married it’ll be our money. This is a community property state.”

“And, it’ll be our shop.”

“The shop can take care of itself,” she replied. “There’s no need for you to subsidize it. But look around here ... the dishwasher is shot, the range is shot ... The cabinets and counter tops are out of the thirties, the floor is wearing out. There’s a lot of deferred maintenance here.”

“Are you saying you don’t think I’ll contribute my share?” he asked.

“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying with everything that needs doing, I can’t in good conscience wear a fortune on my finger. Glenn -- you haven’t seen what the other apartments look like. They look like this. There’s deferred maintenance there, too. I can’t rent them for top dollar -- the studio brings in four hundred a month and the single bedroom eight hundred.”

“I can’t believe we’ve been engaged for twenty minutes and we’re already arguing about money. A ring doesn’t have to cost four figures.”

“I’d rather wear no ring than a cheap one,” she retorted. She smiled and shrugged. “It’s how I am. I can forego something altogether but I won’t compromise.”