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I shouldn’t be still like this. I should be jumping for joy because if anyone in this town would ever understand me, it’d be this man.
He’s passing but also proud enough to put on display who he is and what’s important to him.
My moms offered to get me a trans flag, but I always said no because the concept of passing was all-consuming. If someone saw, then I’d suddenly be outed.
“Are you supportive?” I ask.
He looks me up and down and then at the little pink, blue, and white flag. “That’s an interesting way of asking, but yes, I am trans.”
“I’m trans too,” I blurt out before my hand flies to my mouth.
The same realization I had a moment ago dawns on him, but then a tender smile plays on his lips. His shoulders relax.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I cuss, feeling panic start to take over. I frantically look over the shop like someone could have snuck in without me noticing. “I can’t believe I just said that.”
A hand lands on the side of my shoulder, gripping it tightly enough to pull my attention away from the door but not enough to cause any pain.
“Breathe.”
I take a deep breath while the man eyes the door before looking back at me.
“Sorry.”
“You have no reason to apologize.” He rubs his hand again over his bald head. “Was that your first time telling someone?”
His question doesn’t come off as judgmental.
“Yeah,” I answer honestly.
Then I tell him everything I can think of and about why I’m here.
After taking a breath again, my shoulders feel loose, like a literal weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I didn’t realize the amount of strain that lying to everyone here has put on my body.
“I’m sorry you had to go through all of this so young,” he says. “Would you like to take a seat?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m good now.”
The shopkeeper looks over the shop again. “If you ever need to talk, my shop is always open.”
A well of emotions start to prick my eyes. “Thank you.”
“You know, I didn’t get to transition until college, and let’s say I definitely had some run-ins with bullies.”
I instinctively look at his leg, which was limping before. “Is that why…”
“Yes, but joke’s on them because they just got uglier with age, and I landed the most beautiful girl—my wife, Isla.”
A euphoric feeling washes over me like my body didn’t realize I could have both. I could be proud of who I am and find someone that loves me.
“Thank you,” I say simply.
“Anytime.” He walks me over to the door. “Are you sure you are okay?”
I wipe the little mist around my eyes. “Yeah, I am.” I stand there awkwardly for a second. This is when I’d leave, but I don’t. “What’s your name?”
“Well, most people call me Mr. Grimes.” He lets out a chuckle. “But my friends call me Adrien. I’ll answer to either.”
With that, I walk out of the flower shop and back into the heat.
