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His face breaks into a huge grin, and he rushes over. “Hi!” He appraises my outfit. “You look so pretty.”
Dear gods, I might die. My heart melts right there. “Thank you so much, sweetie!” Take that, you nasty witches! “What’s your name?”
“My name’s Benji and my pronouns are he/him.”
I press my hands to my heart. This child is too precious. “Hi Benji. It’s very nice to meet you. I’m Stef, and my pronouns today are they/them.”
That doesn’t even faze him. He just accepts it and thrusts his hands out at me, palms down. “I painted my nails.” His chubby cheeks flush, and he shrugs. “Well, my sister painted them for me. I’m not so good at it yet.”
I kneel so we’re closer in height. “Oh, I love the color. Purple is one of my favorites. And your sister did a great job painting them!”
His cherubic face lights up, and I blink away the prickling in my eyes. “Thanks. She did them this morning.” He gets quiet, and his face loses its joy. “I don’t like to paint them when I’m going to school. Some kids make fun of me.”
I nod. “I know what that’s like. Kids can be really mean. And it hurts, doesn’t it?”
He scuffs his shoe on the flagstone floor. “Yeah. They say it’s only for girls.”
I snort. “I’m told thata lot. But you know what? Nail polish and hairstyles and clothes don’t have a gender. They’re for whoever likes them. Right?“ He nods again, this time a bit more enthusiastically. “Everyone should be allowed to express themselves however they want. And I’m really proud of you for not letting other people ruin something you love. That purple is fabulous on you!” His grin is back in full force.
A couple hovers nearby, and I glance up at them. They’re probably five-ish years older than me and are with a young girl who looks about eleven or twelve. The woman smiles, wiping her eyes with a tissue, obviously trying to control her emotions. I turn to Benji. “It’s okay to wear your nail polish sometimes and not others. Today I felt like wearing my favorite skirt, so I did. But when I’m working, I wear pants because some people might not understand. It’s about making sure we’re comfortable and safe. And I bet your mom and dad and sister could help you figure out when it’s a good time to wear polish and when it might be a good idea to wait.”
The boy glances over his shoulder at his family, then at me, nodding. “Dad says I can wear nail polish to school or church or baseball if I want because we have rights in this country and bigots can go to hell.”
I throw my head back and laugh, glancing at Benji’s parents. His mom is covering her eyes and shaking her head, but his dad is grinning proudly. “Your dad is absolutely right. It sounds like you have a great family who loves you.”
“Yup. And I love them.”
I want to scoop this little man up in my arms and hug him tightly. I settle for squeezing his hand. “Thank you for showing me your nail polish.”
He beams. “You’re welcome. I knew you’d love it.”
The family crosses the room, stopping behind Benji. I extend my hand as I push to my feet. “Hi. I’m Stef. I hope you don’t mind that I was chatting with your son.”
The dad takes my hand and gives it a firm but friendly shake. “Not at all. I’m Robbie. Nice to meet you, Stef. This is my wife Rachel, and my daughter Meghan, and you met Ben.” He puts his hand on Benji’s shoulder and squeezes.
Benji rolls his eyes and grins up at his dad. “Benji, dad. I like Benji now.”
“Sorry. Benji.”
Rachel wipes her eyes again, smiling shakily. “Thank you. He was feeling nervous about wearing his nail polish today after some kids teased him at school. I can tell you’ve made him feel great about it though, and…” Her eyes shimmer with tears. “Can I hug you?”
“Of course!” I open my arms, and she throws herself at me, squeezing tightly. I hold on until I feel her ease back. “Thank you so much. You might’ve done more for his self-esteem than anything we’ve been able to do.”
“He’s so sweet. Just be supportive and let him lead. But use good judgment. I think you’re already doing that, though.”
Rachel steps away and takes Benji’s hand. “Alright, you ready to go get ice cream?”
Benji nods and waves at me. “See you Stef! Nice to meet you!”
“Nice to meet you too, Benji. Enjoy your ice cream!” Blinking, I try to fight back the tears that’ll ruin my makeup.
Strong arms pull me close. “I am so damned proud of you right now.” Blake’s words are heavy with emotion and it’s more than my soft marshmallow heart can take. “You are so fucking amazing, Stef.”
Two fat tears roll down my cheeks, and I sniff into his shoulder, melting against him. Yes, my family loves and embraces me. And I have amazing friends who accept me exactly as I am. But romantically? Yeah, that’s been a big no. For Blake to say that he’s proud of me and I’m amazing is… well, it’s epic. It’s everything. “Thank you. You don’t know what it means to hear you say that.” I cling to him, squeezing harder than is probably comfortable, but he doesn’t complain. He holds me tightly, making me feel safe and cherished, and lets me have this moment. Eventually, I back off a bit so he can breathe. “Benji is amazing. I probably would have had an easier time in school if I’d been as smart as he is.”
Blake brushes the tears from my face and presses his lips to mine in a slow, chaste kiss so full of sweetness it threatens to bring on the waterworks again. “But then you wouldn’t be here now to be a role model and give him such brilliant advice.” He kisses my forehead and takes my hand. “How about we finish the next room, then go find a cafe and get something chocolaty and decadent?”
I inhale deeply, centering myself, putting all my quickly growing feelings into a smile that’s just for him. “That sounds wonderful, and I know just the place.”
