5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Adam

H ad I opened the Twitch chat several times over the last few days? Yes. Had there been any new messages from Locke? No. Which was fine, I hadn't been expecting any. Not really. I'd missed his lives and had been trying to catch up on watching the VoDs, which meant I couldn't pop into the chatbox and wave or anything, since it was locked in as part of the video.

One of the other Freedom Trail guides had called out sick, so I had to cover for them. On top of working extra days, my parents decided to surprise me with a visit. I loved my parents, but they could be a lot sometimes. Since it was a three and a half hour trip from the suburbs of Stamford, Connecticut where they lived, and where I grew up, it meant they would stay in town for the night and expected me to entertain them.

They hadn't been up here since I'd moved in with Kris, and I was bracing myself for the onslaught of comments as I showed them in. At least I'd gotten a twenty-minute warning about their arrival, so I was able to make sure I didn't have any toys out or anything else I wouldn't want them to see.

The buzzer sounded, and I drew in a deep breath before opening the door. My mother had her brunette hair half up and half down, hanging in loose curls. There wasn't a hint of gray, but I didn't know if it was genetic or if she was super stealth about getting it colored. She had a few more wrinkles in her face than she used to, but her hair was the same.

My father's blond hair had receded so far, his head looked like an archipelago; short buzzed hair in a crescent around a big, bald bay. Luckily, since I wasn't on testosterone, I probably wouldn't inherit his balding traits. Thank God. At one point, before I came out, I had been fed up with my hair, not understanding why it bothered me so much, and I shaved it all off. My head was not made for baldness. Now, I kept it short, but with enough length to offset the roundness of my face.

My mom reached out and pulled me into a hug. "Hi, sweetie. I'm so happy to see you. Can you get me a drink? It was quite a hike up here."

Ugh. It was starting already. The ‘ hike ' consisted of a few steps to the front door of the building and one flight of stairs to the second floor. At forty-six, my mom was in decent shape and didn't seem to be out of breath from the climb, but it was her passive-aggressive way.

"Sure, Ma." When she released me, I went to the kitchen to get her a glass of water. Unfortunately, I didn't have any sparkling water on hand, because it was super gross, but it was her preference. She grimaced when I handed her the flat water, and she reluctantly took a sip.

My dad walked into the small living room, which thankfully was clean, but then it was hardly ever used. There was only room for the old floral loveseat and a single chair. "Hmm," was his only comment as he assessed it.

"This apartment seems cozier than your last one," my mother commented in an overly polite tone.

I sighed internally before sitting down on the couch. "Yes, it's a little smaller, but it's in the neighborhood I wanted to be in, and I can afford it. So it's a win-win."

Eyeing the wicker chair, my dad sat gingerly on it. "Yes, well, you know if you were teaching instead of walking around in costume all day, you'd have your own place, and it wouldn't be a shoebox."

Deep breath in, and release. "I like my job, Dad. It makes me happy. Doesn't that count?"

A not-so-reassuring pat on my leg came from my mother as she sat beside me. "Of course, it counts, sweetie."

It was always sweetie , never my name. They had been accepting when I came out to them but still struggled to get the name right. Twenty years of habit were hard to break, I got that. Instead they had taken to avoiding any name at all out of not wanting to say the wrong one. Which was fine, most of the time.

Her hand pulled away from me and she folded them in her lap. "It's only…well, we thought it was a temporary thing. It was fine while you were in college, but now you have to make a living."

"I manage just fine," I mumbled as I leaned back, my head falling against the couch.

"You know? I have some contacts at a few schools in the area. I could put in a word for you and get you set up as an intern, or maybe even start your student teaching."

My father was a humanities professor who focused on art and culture throughout history. His passion for it was part of what sparked my love of history and why I pursued my degree. Following in his footsteps had once been all I wanted, but things changed after years of schooling. I wasn't ready to be in academia yet. "Thanks, Dad. I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm not interested."

He pressed his lips into a flat line, which at least kept him from continuing this line of thought. My mother stood and brushed off her slacks as if there was dust on them. "Well, we need to go check in at our hotel. Why don't you come with us, since you don't have a car, and then we can go out to dinner?"

Nope, no car. Another dig at how I lived my life. At least having a small apartment meant there was no way they could stay with me, which was a huge relief. Still, I was expected to drop everything for them. They didn't even bother to ask if I had plans. I didn't. Not aside from checking my inbox on Twitch, but they didn't know that. Still…I was happy to take them up on a meal I didn't have to pay for. "Sure, sounds good."

"Why don't you change into something nice?" My mom asked as she looked over my favorite hoodie and jeans.

"Right. I'll be out in a few minutes. There's beer in the fridge, help yourself."

In my room, I let my head fall against the door. I was twenty-four years old, and five minutes with my parents had me feeling like a kid all over again. After a moment, I pulled myself together and pulled a navy knit sweater out of my closet.

Before I put it on, I cut two strips of TransTape, rounding the corners, and grabbed a couple of bandages. In my work uniform, there were enough layers to bind everything naturally, and after work when I wore my hoodie, I was comfortable enough without using anything. Luckily, I had a small chest, so it wasn't a lot to cover up, but if I wore anything that hugged my form more, I preferred using TransTape to flatten instead of wearing a binder. It could be worn for days at a time, even in the shower, instead of having to be aware of how many hours I'd been binding, since it could be dangerous to wear the constricting garments for too long.

Protecting my nipples with the bandages first, I then used the flesh-colored tape, stretching it from the center and moving out. It had taken some time to get the hang of it to give me just the right amount of shape to look like pecs, but now it was automatic. I could apply the strips quickly and easily.

Looking in the mirror, I smiled at the shape it gave me. I liked my body, in general. I didn't have a lot of dysphoria when it came to my curves or my chest, but I loved my profile when my chest was flat. It made me feel more confident and comfortable.

I changed my jeans for a nicer pair and pulled the sweater on. Smoothing my hands down my front, I looked and felt good. Wishing I was meeting a guy who would be feeling me up and running his hands over me… Sadly, that was not in the forecast for the night. Instead, I would sit with my parents for a few hours, enduring a meal and counting down the minutes until they would drop me off and return to their hotel. At least I looked good, though.

Dinner was a lot of what I was used to. Well meaning yet somehow backhanded support. As an only child, I had heard their expectations my entire life. They were liberal enough to be supportive of me being trans and gay, but they still had a vision for my future. One which was nowhere near where I currently was in life.

Between dinner and dessert came the question I knew was coming. As far as my parents were concerned, no matter how I identified or who I was with, my life should look like theirs. College, Career, and—

"So, sweetie, are you seeing anyone?"

—Marriage. Sigh. It always ended this way. It wasn't that I didn't want to have a committed partner. I loved the idea of having that one person who knew every part of you and was there as your support and cheerleader, but damn, I wanted to get there in my own time.

But if they could bring it up, then I could be open and honest about it. I leaned forward and rested my head on my hands. "Well, Ma, I've actually seen a lot of men."

My father looked down his nose at me. "You're being safe?"

"Of course! I may fool around, but I'm not a fool." I cocked my head and smirked. My mom had bought me internal condoms as soon as I hit puberty, telling me to take charge and never trust a partner to take care of you. I may have been horrified the first time I opened one, but I had taken her words to heart.

My mom waved her hand, used to my bluntness. "Sexual protection is one thing, but you have more to worry about than other guys. We have concerns."

She wasn't wrong. There was more to be aware of, more risks, and of course, the fear of backlash of someone finding a body they weren't expecting. It was a fear that lived beneath the surface, but I refused to let it stop me from living and having fun.

I reached across the table and grabbed her hand. "No one knows that more than me, but I know what I'm doing. And I'm not saying I won't settle down, I just haven't found someone I've wanted to with yet. Can't I simply enjoy being young for a while?"

"Yes, of course. Your generation moves at a different pace than we did, and I suppose that's not a…terrible thing."

I arched my brow at my mom's reluctant acceptance. "How charitable of you."

"How about dessert?" Dad coming in with the rescue, like usual.

"Dessert sounds great," my mom and I said in tandem, and we shared a smile. There wasn't much a good cheesecake couldn't fix.

Or a good fuck, but that was a problem for another night.

As my parents dropped me off, my mom asked about breakfast. I'd never been more grateful to have to cover a shift. "Sorry, Ma. I've gotta work tomorrow, but I should be home in the evening if you want to plan for dinner again."

Crossing my fingers, I hoped she didn't take the bait I threw out so I didn't look too eager to miss another fun meal with them.

She frowned and patted my cheek. "We'll need to head home. It's such a long drive, after all. I really wish you were closer to us. I'm sure you could find another silly job back home."

Deep breath….and release. "I like my silly job, Ma. It's like history brought to life. As far as wishing I was teaching, I am. I teach people about the history of Boston every single day. I love sharing about Boston, my home, and I love it here. I'm happy , Ma, really."

"Oh, sweetie. You know that's what I want for you. A mother is allowed to miss her only son, isn't she?"

I couldn't help but chuckle at her dramatics. She really knew how to work the guilt. "Yes, and I miss you, too. I'm glad you came up for a visit."

She gently swatted my arm. "See, was that so hard?"

She gave me a smothering hug and a kiss on the cheek, which surely left lipstick behind. After she unglued herself from me, my dad squeezed my shoulder. "You will ask for help if you need it? Whether it's putting in a good word or if you need a little financial assistance, we're here for you."

I nodded. "I will, I promise, and thank you."

The taillights of their Lexus sedan were a beautiful sight to see. When I was back in my apartment, I felt like I'd spent days with my parents instead of a few hours. I whipped my sweater off and collapsed shirtless onto my bed. I loved them, but fuck, they were exhausting. What I really needed was a stiff drink, but we didn't have any hard liquor in the apartment, so I would have to settle for a beer.

Forcing myself to get up, I didn't bother throwing anything on, and walked to the kitchen. Kris came out of her room, saw my expression, and immediately grabbed two beers out of the fridge. She didn't blink twice at my bare chest or the adhesive strips on it. That was one of the nice things about having an older queer woman as a roomie. She knew I was trans and didn't care. It helped to know that she wasn't bothered by seeing hygiene supplies in the bathroom, too. Kris made me feel comfortable and didn't give two shits if I walked around topless. Sometimes, it just felt really nice not to wear a shirt. I felt my most manly without a top on.

"What happened? You look like you've been hit by a truck." She popped the cap off a bottle and handed it to me.

"No, just parents. No offense. I know you're a mom, but I seriously doubt you're like my mom."

Kris tapped her bottle to mine. "None taken. Mine were pretty awful, so I did everything I could not to be like that to my kids, though I'm sure I screwed up plenty with them. Just in different ways. It's the circle of life. Each generation screws up their kids in new ways, and the next generation over-corrects."

It reminded me of the song from Falsettos about hating their parents. Maybe one day I would be bothered less by them. The distance helped…a lot.

"You are a wise and wonderful woman, Kris. I'm sure you didn't do too bad with yours."

"I can only hope," she said with a shrug.

We both chugged our drinks, and the hoppy, citrus flavor helped smooth the edges of my parental stress.

Wanting a change in subject, I wiggled my brows and asked, "How's Neve doing? You work up the nerve to ask her out yet?"

Kris sighed heavily. "Neve is…incredible, but no. I haven't. It's been a long time since I've been with a woman, before I had kids. They were my focus for over twenty years, and now I'm on my own again. I kind of forgot how to do all of this. I'm as intimidated by Neve as much as I admire her. We're friends, which is probably how it will stay for now."

"You never know unless you give it a try. Besides, there's a lot to be said for discovering things together." I winked.

"Maybe I'll get there…someday. Oh! That reminds me. Neve mentioned someone was looking for you the other night. I meant to tell you, but our paths hadn't crossed."

My heart jumped at that. Was that good or bad? There were any number of ways this could go, but I had this weird flutter that made me want to hope it was a cute boy searching for me, ready to blow my mind and sweep me off my feet.

"Who was it?"

"Well, you know Neve, she's very serious about privacy and protection, so she wouldn't tell me anything else, but she said I could give you a head's up, in case there was anyone you were worried about. There's not, is there?"

I scratched my head. "No, I don't think so. I can't think of anything. The only people that know me at Randy's are the people at Randy's."

Kris pointed her beer at me. "What about that cutie I saw you talking to a few days ago?"

"Cutie? When?"

"You know, when you had your computer stuff there?"

The only person I remembered talking to that night that the Randy staff wouldn't know was… "Holy shit!" My heart started racing. Was it possible that he had come back to the diner and asked about me? What did that even mean?

"What? Who was it?" Kris' eyes rounded at my excitement.

"Only like my ultimate celebrity crush. He's my free pass."

"Free pass? What do you mean?"

"Like when you're married or in a monogamous relationship and you happen to run into your celebrity crush, you get a free pass to do whatever you want with them, and your partner can't be mad about it."

"Well, Adam, does a free pass still work if you aren't even married? Couldn't you do whatever you wanted with them and there's no one to be mad about it?"

Was it possible? I mean I liked talking to him and really wished I could do more of that, but would it be possible to explore something with Locke? "You know what? You might be right. I just don't want to end up in some crazy-ex, fanboy-stalker file somewhere."

"Well, if you want my advice: don't." Kris threw back the rest of her beer, rinsed the bottle, and added it to our recycling can.

"Don't what?" I asked and did the same with my bottle.

"Don't become a crazy-ex, fanboy-stalker."

I bobbed my head. "Such words of wisdom, but you know what? I think I can work with that. Goodnight, Kris. Thanks for the beer."

"Night, Adam."

My mind was swirling as I returned to my room. Was it really Locke who had come looking for me? If so, what was he hoping for? A friend? Something more? I would be completely happy to build a friendship with Locke. I found him attractive, sure, but I admired him for far more than that, and if being his friend meant I got to spend time with him, I would take it.

Though, I was only partially joking about him being my free pass, because he was hella hot, too. I wouldn't say no if more was on the table, but I really didn't want to be that person who pushed past boundaries. I had no right to reach out to Locke, even if it was him that had sought me out first. He was a celebrity, and undoubtedly had to constantly dodge and deflect unwanted advances, and I refused to be that guy. Didn't mean I couldn't think about it, or about him.

Pulling up the Whisper chat, I read back through the few messages over and over, trying to decipher if there were any undertones to it, but I couldn't. It felt curious and playful, and maybe that was all it was. At this point, I didn't know if there was any way to move forward unless he reached out to me again.