Jessie & Elizabeth (abandoned)

16. As Gay as It Gets [Part 2]

Then, Ari nodded. "He called me a girl," she said, the thing both of us had been preparing for, discussing it in the car in low tones. My heart ached for her, and I wanted nothing more than wrap her in my arms and crush her between her mom and me, reassuring her everything would be okay. Instead, I paid a little more attention to the hand next to mine, letting it calm me down.

"Would you..." I said, weighing each word carefully, "like it more if people didn't call you that? Maybe you'd like to be called something else?"

She wrapped her arms around herself, seemingly attempting to touch her own fingers behind her back. "I don't know," she said. "I don't think I feel like a girl. But I don't want to be a boy either. Boys are dumb." She wobbled, almost toppling backward, then steadied herself. "I'm just a person, I think. Like a human being. Is that okay?"

She was looking at her mom when she asked, and almost immediately, Elizabeth gasped, jumping up to rush towards her child, enveloping her in her arms as she plopped down in the chair. "Of course, that's okay," she mumbled, brushing the hair from Ari's forehead and pressing a lingering kiss on the cleared space, her eyes closed, "of course that's okay, love. You can be anything and anyone." Ari snuggled into her, burying her face in her chest, crawling as close as possible, and this, this was such a moment you knew they loved each other, to the moon and back, and weirdly, or maybe not, it was also the moment I realized my feelings weren't just feelings — I was so completely in love, and not only with Elizabeth but with this family, and I wanted nothing more than get up and join them and be more than just the nanny — be Mom J., if that was possible.

"I love you, mom."

Elizabeth drew in a breath, turning her eyes towards the ceiling. They were glistening with tears, tears she swallowed down, showering Ari with more kisses. "I love you too, Ari. So, so much."

Ari came up, grinning wildly, her cheeks red and her hair a tangled mess. "Jessie," she said, climbing down from her mother's lap and sprinting towards mine, practically leaping onto me like a frog into the water — it kind of hurt, though the gesture was so sweet I didn't mind, "I love you too. And I think I want to have different pronouns."

I pulled her close, basking in her familiar scent, something I liked to call forest and mischief, and I didn't know if I wanted to cry or laugh, so I did both. "I love you too, kid," I managed to say, then let her go. She stood before us, proudly as always, with that familiar glint in her blue eyes. "So, had any pronouns in mind?"

The smile that appeared could've powered the whole city. "I think... they/them," they said, and the smile slipped away as they bit their lip, fidgeting in place, as if waiting for some reaction.

"That's cool," I said, and I looked at Elizabeth, who was wiping a tear from her cheek. "You're lucky, Liz. They're such an amazing kid."

Elizabeth laughed, a bit breathlessly. "Yes, they are."

Ari beamed. A big grin showed us white teeth, lips stretched so far I wouldn't be surprised if it hurt. "Can I go tell Ellen?" they said.

"Yeah, go ahead," I said, knowing this wasn't the right time to interrogate them about the drawing. Immediately, they ran off, and Elizabeth came apart. I didn't really think about it — I just got up, settling myself beside her, and I wasn't sure if it was me who approached her or the other way around, but she was in my arms now, clinging to me like we were somewhere adrift. And even though she was crying, with loud, desperate sniffs, creating wet spots in my t-shirt, she was so soft and so close, and I couldn't believe she just let me hold her like this.

That she trusted me like this.

"Hey," I said quietly, allowing myself to draw circles on her back, "it's okay. Ari will be fine. They're tough. They won't let anyone mess with them."

There was a gasp for air, and she retracted, dark, wet eyes searching for mine, her lips trembling. "Yes," she said, her voice steadier than expected, "they'll be fine. Because of you. You helped her — them," she corrected herself, flinching as if the mistake pained her physically, "I never... — I'm such a bad mother."

"Liz," I said, closing my hand around her arm. She was so warm, her leg still pressed against mine, and I just hated that that was the way she saw herself when I knew she did her best. Always. Even if it didn't always seem like it. "You are not a bad mother. You did exactly what you should've done in this situation. And everyone's going to need some time to get used to the new pronouns. What matters is that you try."

"How are you always so nice?"

I gave her a smile. "Just how I was made, I guess." I tilted my head. "I can be mean, though. I think."

There was a breathtaking smile on her face, shining through the tears, and my heart clenched — damn, I wanted so much to be able to kiss her. "No, you can't," she said, "at least not intentionally." A slight hesitation, and then she added: "It's one of the things I like about you."

Everything stopped. I couldn't breathe, frozen in place, my gaze flickering to her mouth, lipgloss long gone after all the events of today. We were huddled together in that armchair, really just meant for one person, and my stomach outdid itself with new tricks I couldn't even name. She was so incredibly beautiful, with her long lashes fluttering like this and her hair tickling my neck, and I had to break this — I had to, I couldn't let myself do something stupid like asking if it was okay to kiss her senseless, because it wouldn't be, and I was just Jessie, the nanny.

"As much as I don't need to share my every thought with you," she said, and I dared to look up, maybe a little too hopeful. "I want you to know that I've been..." a deep breath, "going to therapy." She brushed her hair over her shoulder, slowly and deliberately. "I figured that it might help me. To tell Manon the truth, but also... with other things."

I could cry. I really could. And maybe I did. Just maybe. "That's really great," I managed to say, even if the words nearly got stuck in my throat. "The kids are so lucky to have you."

She inclined her head, not quite agreeing but not disagreeing either. Her eyes focused on her hands, lying open in her lap, and I stared at the place where our thighs were pressed together, wondering when it'd become acceptable to her to be in each other's space like this. "Yes, well," she said, "it's not like I would've been able to handle this without you. I just know that... that I want all three of them to know I love them," she turned away from me, expression hidden behind a curtain of honey-colored hair. "My own parents, they— they probably hate me. And I don't blame them. I never want my kids to feel that way, though. So, I've always... said the words." Then, she looked back again, something troubled in the brown of her eyes. "You, however... you make it seem so easy. Everything you do for them screams affection, and you get paid to do it."

This time, I had to take her hand. I just had to. Her calloused palm was warm in mine. She looked down at them, and my heart raced, my brain shouting that it was stupid to do this, stupid to stroke the back of her hand with my thumb — but she didn't respond, just kept looking like it was something she'd never seen before. "You know," I said, "everything you do for them screams affection too. It's just that you're a little harder to read, so it's not that obvious for someone who doesn't know you well." So now I was claiming I knew her well. Great. Time for the next topic before she could say anything about it. "Like, at first, I had no idea why you would want Manon to believe Connery's lies about you. But now... I get it. Even if I don't agree with it."

She let out a shaky breath, shuddering. "I wish I wouldn't have to tell her. I don't want her to know he deliberately chose to tear our family apart. It's going to break her, Jessie."

There was a sob, only it didn't come from her, or from me, for that matter — I felt Elizabeth freeze, and I did too, my heart sinking to the bottom of my stomach.

Right in the door opening, a girl with thin blonde hair stood with her arms hanging down the sides of her body in defeat, her eyes wide open.

"Manon," I said, and then she turned around and ran.