Inside his shop, he fixed a smile on his face and served every customer, including Deb and June who came by to pay their respects to him after his ‘festival ordeal’, like he had died. He tried his best not to think about the letters in his drawer.
‘I’m looking for a book on gender,’ a woman said, not quite meeting his eye.
‘Sure. We have a lot in stock. Can I ask what it is you’re looking for?’
The woman, who he didn’t recognise, looked around the shop. She’d chosen a moment of quietness, of serenity after a rush of people. Quinn had spotted her earlier, lingering at the shelves, waiting for the right time.
‘It’s my daughter. Well, son.’ She winced, and Quinn wanted to tell her it was okay. ‘Um… sorry.’
‘Don’t apologise,’ Quinn said. He encountered people like this often. Parents wanting the best for their child, even when they weren’t sure what was happening themselves. ‘Your son?’
‘This will sound awful,’ the woman said, stepping closer to Quinn. ‘She’s a teenager.He’sa teenager. He’s always felt like something was different. When he was a kid, he’d hate me putting him in dresses or feminine clothes. I thought it was just a phase, you know? Anyway, he’s asked me to refer to him as he and him, and he thinks … he thinks he’s trans.’
Her eyes met Quinn’s, and he smiled, hoping he reassured her.
‘I’m going to recommend a book targeted at teens, but it might be worth you reading it, too,’ Quinn said, motioning for the mother to follow him. ‘Do you mind me saying something?’
‘No, of course not,’ the mother said, though she sounded like she wished for anything but.
‘Talk to him,’ Quinn said. ‘Don’t tread around it like it is something secretive.’
‘But I don’t know what to say.’
‘And that’s absolutely fine,’ Quinn said, coming to the section of his shelves labelled ‘gender and identity’. ‘The main thing is that you are there for him to speak to, and you help him figure things out. He’ll need someone he can trust right now.’
The mother nodded, taking a deep breath. ‘I feel like I’m doing everything wrong.’
‘You’re not,’ Quinn said. ‘What’s important is you speak to him. Don’t worry about making mistakes. Just make sure that when he corrects you, you learn from it. Don’t see it as something to be angry about. Don’t take his own anger, if there is any, personally. Instead, open, honest, healthy communication is needed right now.’
She looked at the shelves of books, her mouth dropping open at the vast array of titles.
‘Here.’ Quinn handed her a copy ofWhat’s the T?‘Juno Dawson. She’s very knowledgeable about the subject. Then this one,Gender Euphoria. Shared stories from trans, non-binary and other queer writers on their own experiences.’
The woman took the book, inspecting the covers with a mild sense of fascination.
‘Often, we overlook how the parents might feel,’ Quinn said. ‘So, two things. We offer a support group on Wednesday evenings. It’s not run by me, but it’s run by an LGBTQ+ charity in the local community hub. If you want me to, I can put your name forward to join. Your son is, of course, more than welcome to join, too.’
‘Yes, please.’
‘And then this book.’ Quinn reached for a book on the top shelf, hardbacked. He handed it over to her. ‘Have a look. It’s for parents and how they can help their children through this process.’
‘I’ll take them,’ the woman said, glancing at the blurb. ‘Anything you can recommend, I’ll take.’
‘Okay, if you’re sure,’ Quinn said. ‘Also, if you or your son ever want to come in for a chat, or just somewhere to be, then please do so. We have a place where you can sit and chat, without fear of judgement. Like I say, I’m no medical professional. I’m not qualified to offer any sort of therapy or advice. But I am here to sell books on the topic, to be a place for people to come to, and a person you can talk to about anything.’
The woman looked like she wanted to cry as she handed the books over to Quinn at the till. As she took the bag, she placed a hand on his arm.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Honestly.’
As she left, Quinn sighed. It was moments like these when he feared the loss of his shop. Here in Hay, he was the only place people could come to without fearing what the person they were talking to might think. He wanted to help people, craved helping people. He might not be a doctor, a psychologist, or the owner of a charity with valuable resources, but if he could help in other ways, that was a purposeful day to Quinn.
Losing that ability to be there for others was a hard prospect to face.
As he re-ordered copies of the books he’d sold, he rested his head against the nearest bookshelf. Harold was not only taking this away from him, but from everyone else that wanted advice, education, and a good queer read.
‘Busy day?’ Ivy strolled into Kings & Queens wearing a bright pink raincoat and fluffy earmuffs. She took off her gloves, still wearing her plentiful rings, and leaned against the counter.
‘I was just about to close,’ Quinn said, checking the time. ‘It’s been busy, but I think most people are enjoying the snow or staying indoors.’
