Luna (25 page)

Dad’s head spun my way. “You lied to me! You told me he wasn’t gay.” He pointed an accusatory finger. “I asked you point blank and you lied to me.”

“Why does this always come back on me?” I shouted. “First Aly, now you —”

“What did Aly say?” Luna interrupted, looking hopeful.

I blanched. “Nothing. Forget it.”

Luna blinked a couple of times and blew out a breath. “Leave Re out of this,” she said to Dad. “It has nothing to do with her.”

Pressing a hand against her chest, she added, “This is about me, Dad. Me.”

Dad’s face registered ... what? Denial? Revulsion? “What. Are. You.” His tone of voice made me shrink in fear.

Luna swallowed hard. “Like I said, I’m a transsexual. TS, if you prefer. I was supposed to be a girl, and I am, but I was born in the wrong body. Think of it as a birth anomaly.”

“A
what
?” Dad shrilled.

“Nothing,” Luna mumbled. She picked up her doughnut and raised it to her mouth. Her hands trembled as she bit into it. She chewed and chewed and chewed. A tiny glob of lemon stuck to her upper lip.

Dad morphed. Into what, I don’t know. His face, his body, they seemed to grow, contort. Mom’s cell rang. She grabbed for it. “No, Andy, that won’t work. There’s no wheelchair accessibility at the Burnham-Grant.” She stood and marched off toward her bedroom.

She actually left. Was she blind? Deaf?

“Mom!” I called.

Luna said to me, “Please pass the napkins.”

I lifted the napkin holder and handed it across the table to her. She forced a thin smile. “Thanks.”

Dad’s lips receded over his teeth like a snarling dog. “You’re sick,” he hissed. “You are sick.”

Luna set down her doughnut and wiped her fingertips. She scooted back her chair and replied calmly, “I’m going out now. I have an appointment with a manicurist.”

I said quickly, “Would you like me to come?”

Luna met my eyes. The answer: Would I ever.

I braced the table to stand, but Dad blasted me with, “Where do you think
you’re
going? Sit down!” He shot to his feet and thundered past Luna, who was moving toward the foyer, extracting her car keys from her purse. Dad impaled himself against the front door. “You’re not leaving this house dressed like that. You look like a ...a clown. Go downstairs and change.”

Luna’s spine fused. “No. This is who I am. This is how I choose to live the rest of my life.”

“Not in my house you don’t. Not if I can help it.” Dad’s fingers clenched in a fist and he drew back his arm.

I toppled my chair, racing to throw myself between them. I heard myself screaming, “No, Dad, don’t! Stop it.”

Dad spread out his left hand and thrust it at me. Though his hand never made contact, the force hit my chest like a brick wall. I gasped for breath. “Stay where you are, Regan. This is between Liam and me.”

“It’s Luna,” she said.

Dad’s fist balled tighter. Hard, white-knuckled. His elbow extended farther back, arm vibrating.

I couldn’t move; couldn’t speak. I was frozen in time and space. I imagined the crushing blow to Luna’s face, lethal in its intent, in its execution. Dad was big, strong. And more angry than I remembered him ever being.

Luna held her head high, waiting. Almost daring him to do it. Seconds ticked away. Years.

Then, slowly, Dad released his fist.

My lungs collapsed.

Luna reached around him for the door knob. “Excuse me,” she said.

Right in her ear, Dad said, “If you walk out that door, don’t bother coming back.”

“Dad!” My voice was raspy.

Luna poised for a long moment, her hand on the knob. She stared straight ahead into the solid wood, into the nothingness.

Please, God, I prayed. Make this not be happening.

Dad said, “I mean it, Liam.”

Luna’s arm fell to her side. Every bone in her body seemed to disintegrate as her shoulders slumped. She said, “I realize I’ve been a big disappointment to you, Dad. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the son you wanted. I’m sorry.” Wrapping her arms protectively around herself, she plodded through the living room toward the basement stairs. Defeat hung in the air like nuclear waste.

“I hate you,” I spat at Dad. “I hate you!” Pivoting, I stalked down the hall to the master bedroom, where Mom was still on the phone. Still!

“Hang up,” I commanded her.

Her eyes flickered over me.

“Hang. Up.” The venom in my voice startled even me.

“Andy, I have to go,” Mom chirruped. “I’ll call you right back. Try that conference center in The Springs, okay?” She disconnected. Sighing wearily, she asked, “What?”

“What?” I repeated. “Mom. Clue in. Do you know what’s happening here?”

Her eyes fell to the phone in her hand. “I don’t have time for this. Not today.” She lifted the cell to her ear.

I walked over and snatched it out of her hand. I threw it across the room, where it cracked the wall.

“Regan!”

“Mom!” I practically yelled in her face. “Why did you leave? Liam is transitioning. Do you understand what that means?” Of course she didn’t understand. “She’s changing her sex.”

She blinked about a dozen times in rapid succession. “Why does he have to do this now,” she said. “I can’t deal with this today. I’ve got a wedding with no reception hall and a caterer under investigation by the health department —”

“Shut up.”

Mom’s jaw went slack. “What did you say?”

“I said, shut up. Listen to me, for once. Liam needs you. Luna needs you.” We all need you, I didn’t say. We always have.

“Luna.” Mom clucked her tongue. “Where did he get such a name?”

I couldn’t believe what she did next. She walked across the room and retrieved the phone off the floor. She began to punch in numbers.

“Mom, for God’s sake —”

“I can’t handle this, Re!” she screamed, sounding on the verge of hysteria. “I can’t handle it today.”

“I couldn’t handle that,” Mom says. “Poor Carol. I don’t know what I’d do if Jack ever left me. I’d never be able to take my college classes and manage a house and raise two kids on my own. And she has four.” Mom shakes her head. “Poor Carol.”

She’s talking to our next door neighbor, Mrs. Camacho. They’re sitting on lounge chairs in our backyard, supervising us kids, me and Katie and Liam, as we splash around in the kiddie pool. Katie calls out, “Watch this, Mommy.” She clambers over the edge of the plastic. Standing in place, she winds up, then leaps in, sploshing water over us.

“That’s nice, honey,” Mrs. Camacho says. She continues her conversation with Mom. “He emptied their joint savings account, too.”

“He didn’t!” Mom’s eyes narrow. “That bastard.”

Liam calls, “Mommy, watch me.” He imitates Katie, only making a bigger splash, and almost drowning me. But I don’t care; it’s fun. We all giggle.

Mom says, “He could’ve at least taken the kids.”

Mrs. Camacho laughs. They both do.

Katie stands up and yanks on the rear end of her swimsuit — again. She high-steps out of the pool and runs across the grass. “This is too itchy, Mommy.” She tugs the elastic lace around her leg, stretching it out.

“Oh, come here. I knew the lace on these legs felt too stiff and stickery.” Mrs. Camacho tells Mom, “She just had to have this Hello Kitty swimsuit.”

Liam asks me, “Can you do this?” He skims like a salamander along the bottom around the perimeter of the pool. I copy him. When we’ve come full circle, we see Katie skipping back.

She’s naked.

I stand up. “Can I take mine off too, Mommy?”

Mom waggles a limp wrist. “Go ahead.”

I strip as Katie jumps back in.

Liam pretends to tread water, but I know he’s really sitting on the bottom. He can’t swim yet. He looks at Katie, then me. I show Katie how to be a salamander and we skittle around the pool. A movement makes me look up. Liam’s trunks are around his ankles and he’s kicking them off. For a minute he just stands there in the water, looking at himself.

Katie points to him and giggles. I giggle, too.

Liam grabs his penis and starts to pull. “Take it off,” he says, almost in a whisper. He sloshes toward Katie and repeats, “Take it off.”

“Okay.” She gets up.

I hear Mrs. Camacho ask, “What is he doing?”

“Liam!” Mom shrieks. “Get out of there.” Her shrill voice makes us all wither in fear. Mom races across the lawn. She grabs Liam’s hand and jerks him out of the pool.

“Take it off,” Liam says to her.

“Take what off? Where are your trunks?”

“Mommy, take it off.” Liam pulls at himself again.

“Stop that.” Mom slaps his hand away. “That’s nasty.” She retrieves his swim trunks from the lawn and shakes them out. Liam backs away from her. “No,” he whines. “I want it off. Take it off, take it off, take it off.” He starts slapping at his penis and stamping his feet, throwing a fit.

Katie and I huddle at the far side of the pool.

“You stop that, young man. You stop it right now!” Mom orders.

“No!” Liam shouts. “No, I’m not a young man.” He’s acting like a baby and it makes me and Katie snicker behind our hands.

Mom grips Liam’s arm and hauls him toward the sliding glass doors. “You go to your room. Don’t come out until you can behave yourself.” She drags him inside the house.

“Are you girls okay?” Mrs. Camacho squats beside us. We both nod.

“It isn’t nice to touch each other down there,” she says softly. “Do you understand?”

I nod hard.

Katie says, “He made me do it.”

“No, he didn’t.” I frown at her.

Mom comes back outside. She exhales audibly and says to Mrs. Camacho, “I figured I was due. He’s been such an easy child, so much easier than Regan. Jack keeps saying, ‘Any day now, he’s going to turn on the testosterone.’” She rolls her eyes. “I guess he chose today.”

Mrs. Camacho smiles. “Boys. I’m glad I don’t have any.”

They resume their seats; pick up their conversation.

Katie says, “Let’s play Samantha dolls.”

“No.” I salamander off. I’m mad at Katie now. She’s a liar.

The phone rings in the house and Mom pushes up off her lounger. I hear the sliding screen open and close. A second later the air explodes with Mom’s scream. “What have you done? Oh my God. Put that knife down.” She appears behind the screen, clutching Liam in her arms. “Connie, I need to run Liam over to the emergency clinic.”

Mrs. Camacho rushes across the yard. “What happened?”

“He cut his... his leg. Will you watch Regan?”

“Of course. You want me to call Jack?”

“No,” Mom replies quickly. “No, I can handle it. He doesn’t need to know.” Mom says something else, but all I see is the blood running down her leg.

She knew. I stood in Mom’s doorway, staring at her back as she paced around the room with her cell suctioned to her ear. She’d always known.

Why hadn’t she helped him? Been there for him? Why hadn’t Mom acknowledged Liam’s difference? She could’ve made his life so much easier. She could’ve raised him as a girl. Why didn’t she?

Dad. Of course.

He didn’t know. She should’ve told Dad. All these years he’d tortured Liam with the sports, the sports. His unrealistic expectations. He’d made Liam feel like a failure, feel inadequate as a son.

Which made Dad feel inadequate as a father.

Mom could’ve given Dad time to come to terms with it, accept Liam for who, and what, he was.

Another memory resurfaced, along with a question. After that time Liam stole Mom’s pills to commit suicide and I’d flushed them down the toilet, why hadn’t Mom interrogated us? Gone crazy? Asked where all her pills went?

Unless she knew.

Unless she left them out on purpose. She had a purpose. She gave Liam easy access. “Here, Liam,” I could hear her thinking. “Help yourself. Something to help you sleep. Something to ease the pain.”

Slowly, numbly, I backed out of her room.

My God. My mother was a monster.

Chapter 25

I
didn’t tell Luna. I didn’t want to discuss it. I didn’t want to confirm it. Luna had been through enough today. It was her birthday. She’d removed the wig, but was still dressed in the skirt and sweater, clicking away on her laptop, coding her game, or whatever she was doing. She was back in her element. Back in her world of make-believe.

I didn’t want to leave her alone — not today. Not like this. I wouldn’t. Settling on the sofa, I grabbed the remote control and switched on the TV, surfing for an all-night movie marathon.

“Don’t you have a date tonight?”

Her voice made me jump. I thought she was totally spaced.

“Maybe you should start getting ready. It’ll take you that long to do your hair.”

I sneered at her. “I think I’ll stay home and rag on you.”

Luna swiveled all the way around on her desk chair. “You don’t have to baby-sit me, Re,” she said.

“I’m not.” My face flared.

“Yes, you are. Are you still punishing me for losing you your job?”

I threw the remote at her. She caught it midair. “Wow,” I said. “You should go out for baseball.”

She didn’t crack a smile. “You’re doing it again. You’re very good at it, you know.”

“What?”

“Making people feel guilty.”

I let out a little huff. She should talk.

“I’m all right,” she said, tossing the remote back to me. “Stop worrying about me. Don’t you dare cancel your date with Chris because of me. I’ll be really, really upset if you do.” She pouted, poufing out her lips.

The lights flickered. Luna and I whipped our heads around in unison. The creaking on the stairs announced the last person I ever expected to see here again.

“Hey.” Aly stood on the landing. She looked ... determined?

“Hi.” Luna shot to her feet. “Hi, Aly.”

Aly’s eyes darted up and down Luna’s body. “Happy birthday,” she said, her wavering voice betraying her confidence. “Hi, Re.” Aly smiled in my direction.