I Keep Messing Up
Calling one of his moms
Dr. Wolski.
“It’s Kathleen, here, Angel,”
she says. His other mom,
Dorothy, nods.
“Trust me, she gets enough of
that at school—she’d be
insufferable if we
kept it up at home!”
We laugh and talk
through dinner and into the night.
Turns out Dorothy is an administrator
at the hospital—and she’s on something
called an ethics panel.
“Angel has an ethical dilemma,”
Marcus says, grabbing another
homemade cookie off the plate.
“Tell them about Brendan.”
So I tell ’em about the broken window
and blue envelopes,
and I’m trying not to get worked up
but it’s hard.
“You should absolutely
call the authorities,” Dorothy
says. And she takes a sip of wine.
Kathleen shakes her head.
“I couldn’t disagree more.”
“Why?” Dorothy asks.
“For one thing, the money he
sends is a clear sign of remorse—
he is paying his debt.
“For another, Angel doesn’t know
why he broke the window—that
should inform any decision she
makes.” Kathleen says to me,
“You should try to find out.”
Dorothy doesn’t like that.
“The reason doesn’t matter—
actions have consequences.”
And they’re off into
a philosophical argument
about crime and the meaning
of punishment.
Disagreeing but not fighting.
It’s interesting to hear and
I’m trying to follow them
but it’s getting late and
I accidentally yawn.
Marcus takes my hand.
“Now we’ve done it,”
he pretends to whisper.
“They’ll be up
half the night debating …
Let’s go.”
They stop
long enough
to walk us
to the door.
“It was wonderful to meet you,”
Dorothy says. Kathleen smiles.
“See you in class.”
And on the way home
even though I don’t
mention religion
I’m thanking God.
You think meeting
your boyfriend’s parents
for the first time
is nerve-racking?
Girl, you just try doing it trans.