778. Chapter 778

Half the time that Adrian texts Maggie, it’s memes and cute dogs and selfies of him with said cute dogs.

The other quarter, it’s life updates and checking in on how she’s doing.

The last quarter, it’s asking if he can bring wayward teens he finds over to his lesbian mamas’ apartment for dinner, for coffee, for an emergency crisis.

This afternoon, his text is about a sophomore in his school.

They’re really sweet and they just transferred to my school and they’ve got this massive crush on this junior girl and I totally ship it and more to the point their parents are jerksssssssssssssssssssssssssssss so can they come over tonight and be parented by the biggest homos I know I’ll bake that batch of brownies that you know Alex will make all those sex noises for??

You sent this to me, Adrian. This isn’t Maggie’s phone, Adrian. You did that last crack about the brownies and sent it to me on purpose, didn’t you Adrian.

…. hi Alex. We on for tonight?

Bring them and your brownies. We may or may not take the brownies and the kid and let you stay out in the hallway.

Perfect, see you then!

Alex laughs to herself, wondering when, exactly, she became a mom.

She calls Maggie to let her know that they’ll have company tonight.

She watches, that night, the kid’s face – Cass, their name is – as they watch the enthusiasm and deep, unrestrained love that Maggie and Adrian bear hug with.

“They’ll be done in with that in about five hours,” Alex offers her hand out to Cass. They giggle nervously, and Alex leans in conspiratorially. “You wanna steal these brownies and run? Adrian said he’d bring the things over, and he told us he was bringing you, obviously, so I said ‘well maybe Cass and I could just grab the brownies and go, can they run fast?’ and he was like, ‘yeah, they do, they’re on our track team’, so I’m just saying, if you wanna tackle him for the brownies, I can totally take my wife.”

Alex hopes her rambling is making Cass feel less uncomfortable, less awkward and terrified; if the look on their face is any indication whenever Alex uses their pronouns, Alex is creating the effect she wanted to.

Maggie and Adrian finally stop hugging, and Adrian latches himself onto Alex next.

It’s not until halfway through the pizza and fries and garlic bread - ‘the dinner of champions’, Adrian proclaims - that Cass really starts saying anything beyond ‘pre-calculus is awesome’ and ‘my English teacher is the worst.’

Because they pay close attention when Maggie casually mentions growing up in a small town where everyone knew everyone’s business, and when Adrian mentions the last family barbeque where his mom got into a massive fight with his dad’s brother over his refusal to respect Adrian’s pronouns in the supposed name of Jesus.

“It. Was. Awesome,” Adrian concludes with satisfied hands behind his head.

“Was your dad mad at your mom, though? For yelling at his brother?” Cass asks, and Adrian shakes his head vehemently.

“No no no, that was the best part. When Dad got there, and we told him what happened, he was just pissed off that Mami got to tell off my uncle and not him. Like I said: awesome.”

“You’re really lucky. With your parents. Both sets, it looks like.”

“I know,” Adrian sobers, reaching for Alex’s wine before she lightly smacks his hand out of the way.

Cass giggles at their intimate antics, and they assess safety levels quickly. Whether anyone will be mad that they ruin the dinner party just because they need to vent; whether Adrian won’t be their friend anymore at school, or whether Alex and Maggie will regret welcoming them into their home.

They think it seems safe. The way Adrian leans across the table to squeeze Maggie’s knee. The way Alex kisses Maggie’s cheek, and Maggie kisses hers right back.

The way Adrian pretends to be grossed out, but winks at Cass happily even as he does so.

“I wish I had parents who love me like yours do,” they pipe up, and no one misses a beat.

No one tells them that ‘of course your parents love you, they’re just set in their ways’ or ‘they’ll accept you even if they don’t accept other people because you’re their kid’ or ‘why is it so important to tell them? you’ll be out of their house in a couple years anyway.’

No one says anything like that. They just turn, and nod, and wait for them to continue.

“Like, it’s frustrating. Because there’s Jesus Catholics, who are all hippy and like, love everyone for the sake of loving everyone because that’s what Jesus was all about. And there are Old Testament Catholics, who are like, ‘smite this and smite that’ and that’s my parents, and they voted for the supervillain in the White House and they don’t understand that he hates us and everything he stands for hates us, and he especially hates me, because I’m brown and I’m trans and I love women in a way he’ll never understand.”

“You mean you respect them and all that? What? Whomst?” Adrian puts his hand on his heart in faux shock, and Cass smiles like maybe everyone at this table actually, truly gets it.

Which is exactly what makes them sob.

Alex is on her feet first, pulling out her chair and shifting so she’s kneeling tall by Cass’s seat. “Okay?” she asks with outstretched arms, and Cass lets themself sink into Alex, grasping at her henley as they sob like they haven’t let themself sob in far too long.

Maggie holds Adrian’s hand and they both put their heads down, waiting, witnessing, holding space for Cass’s tears and Alex’s whispers of comfort and belief.

“I’m sorry,” Cass gasps through their tears.

“No.”

“Absolutely nothing to be sorry for.”

“You’re fine, you’re fine, you know how many times I’ve done this at this very table?”

“All three of us, really.”

“This is apparently where we all have our breakdowns. You’re in good company.”

Their soft antics get Cass to laugh. To start believing that maybe their blood family isn’t the only family they’ll ever have.

That maybe, they can make their own.

And maybe, that starts tonight.