“Still doing okay?” June asks.

“Yeah, I think so,” I say. “I’m cautiously optimistic about Mom. Besides, I don’t know how she could be anywhere near as awful as my dad and brother combined.”

“Always look on the bright side of life,” June sings.

I had arranged to meet my mom before I had to go teach lessons. We’d agreed on a coffeeshop near Sam’s bar and not too far from the music store. I met June at Sam’s and she insisted on walking over with me for moral support. Before she left this morning, Anya had offered to postpone work for a client to come along, but I told her I’d be okay and June promised to take care of me.

There’s a gust of wind and I pull my jacket close. This morning I put on Anya’s sweater from yesterday and it’s cozy and smells like her, but the wind does cut through. The promise of winter is in the air and I’m glad I paired some tights with my skirt.

I purposefully timed things to arrive a little before my mom. Knowing her, she’ll probably be a few minutes later than our agreed time. June and I order drinks and I get a cinnamon roll and we sit down at a table. I carefully lean my bass against the wall and June puts a backpack with a change of clothes next to my bass. As expected, Mom doesn’t show at the appointed time, but a few minutes later she texts me that she’s almost here.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” says June. “I think I’ll pop next door and check out that cute little shop. See if there’s anything that says, ‘Lark’s birthday present’ on it.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I protest.

“I know!” she says with a smile. “Text me if you need backup.” She stands up and gives me a hug and leaves, passing my mom on the way out.

“Hi, honey!” Mom says, walking over to my table. I try to read her emotions as she approaches. I’m not getting anything as clearly as yesterday, maybe because emotions aren’t as strong today, but I think I pick up something like my own cautious hope and maybe some curiosity too.

“I’m going to get some coffee, but I’ll leave my things here,” she says, taking off her jacket and setting a gift bag on the chair that June vacated. She’s back soon with a coffee.

There’s a moment of awkward silence.

“Thank you letting me see you,” Mom says. “Yesterday was awful and I wouldn’t have blamed you at all if you wanted nothing to do with any of us. I’m so sorry.”

“It hurt a lot,” I say. “I don’t think I’m mad at you, though. Especially not compared to how absolutely pissed I am with Dad and Jake.”

“You have every right to be angry, even at me. Believe me, if I’d known how things were going to go, I would have done everything in my power to change it. After you left, I completely lost it on your dad. And then I thought for a long time. Then I called my hairstylist because she’s a lesbian and I talked to her for a while. Then I texted you.”

I’m trying to figure out how to respond to this, but Mom is still going.

“I want to be on your side, honey, but I still have a lot to learn, and I know I haven’t been the mom you needed.”

“You didn’t know, Mom,” I say.

“But I should have! Your dad was going on about you being a man who wants to be a woman, but when I talked to Jackie—that’s my hairstylist and her partner isn’t a man or a woman but she says that doesn’t make her not a lesbian and I don’t understand how that works, but she does a wonderful job with my hair—she told me that was backwards because you are a woman and everybody was just wrong about you being a man, and then things kind of clicked for me. When you were little, you told me that you wanted to grow up to be a pretty mommy like me.”

“I did?”

“You did! When I was pregnant with your brother, you’d walk around with a plushie stuffed inside your shirt and say you were pregnant too, and then take it out and say you were a mommy now. Kids say and do all kinds of goofy things—the neighbors’ little girl says she wants to grow up to be Batman or a tree—so I don’t know if that was proof of anything, but I should have been a little more understanding later on.”

“I don’t blame you, Mom! I never said anything. I didn’t figure it out!”

“Your dad and I could have made it so you had space to figure out it, but instead we made sure you didn’t. I let your dad set the tone for how we handled some things and that was wrong of me because he was wrong. I might not know the difference between LGBT and a BLT, but even I knew something was up when I was cleaning your room and found some girl’s clothes in your closet.”

“In my defense, my friend Jess forgot those one time when she was over.”

“Is this the Jess who had a thing for you in high school? Why was she taking off her clothes in your room?! And you were wearing them, weren’t you?”

“OMG, Mom, she didn’t have a crush on me, she’s gay! And she wasn’t taking off her clothes; she brought them over and made me put them on because of a stupid joke bet we made on a math test.”

“Did she suggest the bet?”

“Yeah.”

“And it was about who got the better test score?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And what happened if you won?”

“I don’t remember for sure. Maybe she was going to take me to Dairy Queen or something?”

 “So your best friend who, despite being a lesbian, clearly had a crush on you made a bet on a math test that meant you either had to wear girl’s clothes or she got to take you out on a date and even though you got straight A’s in math, you still lost?”

“When you put it like that, it sounds a little different than it seemed at the time, okay?”

Mom opens her mouth, then closes it and stares at me. “You know,” she says finally, “Jackie said when her partner told her they aren’t—isn’t? I don’t know how that works when it’s one person who’s a they.”

“Aren’t.”

“When her partner said they aren’t a woman, they also said they were still the same person inside. But Jackie said that she sometimes still felt like she was getting to know a new person because they were now free to be who they really were. She also said it was fun, because her partner was much happier.”

“That sounds about right. I feel like I’ve been learning new things about myself. And I am happier, even if some things have been scary and hard.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I’m looking forward to getting to know my daughter, but sweetheart, I’m just not sure how I feel about learning that she’s really clueless! At least you seem to have a knack for collecting nice girls who look out for you. Speaking of which, I really like Anya. I was going to say that I hope she took good care of you after you left yesterday, but since I think I recognize that sweater, I’m pretty sure she did.”

“Mom!”

“What? There’s years of girl talk that I missed out on with you and you better believe we’re going to make up for lost time. I don’t care if I embarrass you. That’s my job.” She grins wickedly. “Did Anya have to make a bet with you just to get in your pants?”

“Oh. My. God. Mom!” I’m sure my face is getting redder by the second. “I’m a strong, independent woman. I asked her to.”

“Good for you, honey!” Mom says with only the smallest hint of condescension in her voice, but she’s smiling proudly. “I really am sorry for making it harder for you to figure things out, but I’m so glad you did and found somebody who accepts and supports you. I’d really like a chance to meet Anya properly, but you two should figure out what you’re comfortable with.”

“Yeah, I’d like that. But just you, right? I can’t handle Dad right now.”

“Of course not! He needs to get his head on straight before you should have to put up with him. Even then, it’s still up to you.”

“Ugh, I don’t even want to talk about Dad right now, but I need to ask you anyway. What the hell is his problem? He was talking about being disappointed, but it felt more complicated than that.”

Mom takes an unusually long time before she answers. “That’s a conversation for another day. He should have a chance to explain himself, but I need to talk some sense into him first. That’s my problem to deal with and you don’t need to worry about it.”

I frown. Part of me wants some answers, but the other part just doesn’t want to think about Dad at all right now. I’m feeling a lot better about Mom now, so if she says she’ll deal with Dad, I’m happy enough to let her.

“Oh!” Mom interrupts my thoughts. “I brought your birthday present! Open it!” She hands me the gift bag that she’d brought with her. Inside are two small boxes and a plastic container with a slice of cake.

“I was sad to miss cake yesterday,” I say. “Anya got me Culver’s, but it wasn’t the same.”

“I’d be happy to make another cake that we can eat together some time. But that’s not the present; that’s just cake. Open your presents!”

I open one of the boxes and take out a delicate silver chain with two charms on it. One charm is a bird and the other is a pair of eighth notes.

“I figured it out!” Mom says, obviously pleased with herself.

“Hmm?”

“Your name—you got it from the song on that CD of violin music that Grandma Schmidt gave you. ‘The Lark in the Sky’ or something. You used to listen to that CD on repeat.”

“It’s ‘The Lark Ascending,’ but you’re right. Thanks, Mom, this is lovely!”

“You’re welcome, honey. That reminds me, though. I got some stuff from Grandma when she cleaned out her apartment before she moved, including your Great-grandpa Karl’s violin. Do you want it?”

“Maybe? I haven’t touched a violin for years. I could probably still play ‘Twinkle’ and ‘French Folk Song,’ but that’s about it. It could be fun to pick it back up, though. Don’t get rid of it anyway. Just because it’s old, doesn’t mean it’s good, but you never know.”

“Okay! Just let me know. Oh! Let me help you with that. Those clasps are tricky till you get the hang of them.” I’ve been trying unsuccessfully to get the necklace fastened behind my neck. Mom helps me put it on, then sits back down and hands me the other box.

“I just got the necklace because the present I was going to give you yesterday wasn’t going to be a good present. That’s why I was late. But this one has some history to it.”

I open the box to find a simple silver ring set with tiny amethysts. It seems familiar.

“I’m not sure how old it is. I had it appraised and it’s not particularly valuable, but Grandma Schmidt gave it to me when I left for college and she said she got it from her mom who got it from her mom. I wasn’t sure what to do with it, but now I know that it’s yours.”

I try to examine the ring through the sudden tears in my eyes.

“I think I remember you wearing this,” I say.

“I wore it all the time when you were little. After your brother was born, my gyno said it wouldn’t be safe to try for any more kids. I always wanted a daughter and the ring was a painful reminder of that, so I stopped wearing it.” Mom pauses and reaches out to put her hand on mine. There’s a catch in her voice when she continues. “Oh, Lark, I’m so sorry I missed what was right in front of me!”

I sniffle. “There’s stuff that I’m sad I missed out on, and I’m sure I’ll have feelings about that that I want to talk about, but right now I’m really happy. I was afraid I’d lose you entirely.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Mom says with mock indignation, but then looks sad. “There’s a thing parents do where we have ideas about who our kids are and how they’re going to turn out. Sometimes we get too invested in our mental pictures of our kids instead of the kids who are in front of us. I’ve known for a long time that you were unhappy, but I didn’t know why, although I had lots of ideas. After you left yesterday, some of those ideas kept popping up, like maybe if you tried this or that you could still be a man and be happy too. But Jackie said it shouldn’t cost anything to just believe you and that made everything so much simpler. Unfortunately, your dad thinks his idea of you is right and that you’re wrong, but rejects that my idea of him as a stubborn jerk is at all right. Maybe believing you costs too much for him.”

Mom stares into her coffee cup and shakes her head. “I’ll keep working on him.” She brightens. “Try on the ring! I’ll get it resized if it doesn’t fit, but even though you got your height from your dad and I know you have big bass player hands, you also come from a line of sturdy Midwestern women who eat a lot of cheese, so I bet it fits.”

“Cheese is really good,” I say. Sure enough, the ring fits nicely on the index finger of my left hand.

“Perfect!” Mom exclaims. “I don’t know if the amethysts have any significance, but they go nicely with your hair. It’s a good look, you know. Yesterday, I was surprised when you came in, but I think you were going for something kind of androgynous and I don’t think it really worked for you. The thing you’ve got going today makes a lot more sense.”

I’ve always had weird feelings receiving comments and compliments about my appearance. It feels better now, but I’m not sure how to respond without awkwardness. I notice June has returned and is sitting a few tables away, so I wave her over.

“I owe a lot to my fashion consultant here,” I say. “June is Anya’s roommate and she’s helped me figure out a lot of stuff besides clothes, too. June, this is my mom.”

“Hi, Lark’s mom,” June says.

“Very good to meet you, June,” Mom responds. “I’m Brenda. Thank you for supporting my daughter.”

I sneak a glance at my phone while Mom and June exchange pleasantries and realize that I’ve lost track of time talking to Mom.

“Crap!” I say. “I gotta run or I’m going to be late for lessons.”

“Do you have time to change?” asks June, holding out the backpack.

“I can give you a ride,” says Mom. “I don’t see why you need to change, though. You look good!”

“Boymode,” I say.

Mom looks confused for a moment. “What’s…? Oh,” she says sadly. “I wish you didn’t have to do that.”

I think for a moment. “You know what? I’ll take you up on the ride, but I’m not changing. Fuck boymode.”

“That’s my girl!”

Brynstar7

I've been so touched by the response from y'all after the last few chapters. I'm really happy that my story resonates and so grateful for all the comments that you've shared. Thanks to everyone who favorites chapters and all the new readers and followers—over 300 readers!

I mostly feel like my writing should be able to stand on its own, so I haven't been talking about the process down here in the author notes, but I'm going to make an exception:

I assume that it's pretty obvious that I'm using this story to process through some of my stuff. As a result, I had originally intended Lark's parents to both be kinda terrible about her coming out,

Spoiler

even if I had planned some reconciliation down the line,

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but the reader response after Brenda's initial text messages changed my mind. Jim being awful all by himself serves the narrative purpose just fine and having Brenda be aggressively supportive actually makes for a much more interesting dynamic. Also, she turned out to be a lot of fun to write. She takes more than a little inspiration from my own mom, especially in being kind of A Lot and probably having undiagnosed ADHD, but unlike my mom, she uses her powers for good. So there's maybe some wish-fulfillment going on there, but that's okay. What else is a magical gender story for?

I've added a tip button, but want to clarify that I'm not struggling financially, so please don't tip unless you can comfortably afford it. But if you want to show your appreciation, I can turn money into coffee, which then turns into either more words or doomscrolling Twitter (it's a bit of a crap shoot).