Wild Swans - Jessica Spotswood Page 0,35

school.

I cannot imagine any situation in which she’d call Abby a little bitch.

Eli zooms through the doorway and across the floor on his Heelys, his shaggy, shoulder-length red hair flying out behind him. “Where are the cookies?”

“There are more in the oven for you,” Mrs. Morris assures him.

Eli grabs two cookies off the tray and stuffs one in his mouth.

“Elijah! Be a gentleman! We have guests.”

“It’s just Claire and Ivy. They aren’t real guests.” Eli scowls and spins, his pink skirt flaring out, while Claire and I laugh. “And I told you to call me Ella! And I don’t want to be a gentleman. They don’t get to wear dresses. Ladies wear dresses. And princesses. I want to be a princess.”

“Honey, we’ve talked about this.” Mrs. Morris’s face flushes. “It’s okay to want to wear dresses and be a princess. It’s okay to want to play with makeup and dolls. That doesn’t mean you have to be a girl.”

I glance at Abby, who is literally squirming, her eyes trained on the floor.

“But I told you, Mama, I am a girl,” Eli says, and zooms off again.

Mrs. Morris starts after him, then pauses in the doorway. “I’m sorry. This is very confusing for all of us.”

There’s an awkward silence in Eli—Ella’s—wake.

“How is he doing?” I ask tentatively.

Claire snatches a chocolate-chip cookie. “She.”

“He’s a boy,” Abby insists, her shoulders stiffening. “You heard Mama. Eli likes girl things, but he’s still a boy. His therapist calls it gender-variant.”

Claire shrugs. “I don’t know, Abby. Sounds to me like she’s transgender.”

Oh Jesus. Cecil might be a college town, but the Eastern Shore is conservative, and a transgender six-year-old is not something most people are going to accept without any ugliness. I understand why Abby worries about Eli—Ella’s—safety. About her being bullied.

“He’s six!” Abby protests. “How can he know?”

“How do you know you’re a girl?” Claire asks.

“What?” Abby looks at Claire like she’s crazy. “It’s not the same. I was born this way. I’ve got girl parts.”

“God, Abby, you can say vagina,” Claire says. “It’s not a bad word.”

Abby winces. I ignore them, thinking about Ella. I mean, if she wants to be called Ella, I should call her that, right? She says she’s a girl, so we should treat her like one. Besides the pronouns, it’s not really any different from how I treat her now. She’s always liked wearing girls’ clothes and playing with the twins’ dolls. When she was a toddler, the Morrises thought it was cute, her wanting to be like her big sisters. She’s only two years younger than the twins, and Mr. and Mrs. Morris thought maybe she felt left out.

But when she started kindergarten last year, they cut her hair short and told her she couldn’t wear dresses outside the house—and Ella started acting out. Trying to hurt herself even. At the recommendation of her therapist, her parents started compromising: letting her grow out her hair and wear nail polish. But identifying as a girl is pretty new. I can see how it would take Abby’s family some time to wrap their minds around it.

“Mama’s taking him to that therapist once a week now,” Abby says softly. “And Daddy’s taking him fishing and to T-ball practice. It’s been hard. On everybody.”

“Imagine how hard it is on her. All the fishing and T-ball in the world isn’t going to make her a boy,” Claire says. “I bet she could really use her big sister’s support.”

“She is a boy. He.” Abby jumps to her feet. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to go see if Mama’s all right. I’ll catch you at the library on Thursday, Ivy.”

“Abby—” I start, standing up.

“I’m fine,” she says, blinking back tears. “I just want to check on Mama. She and Daddy have been fighting a lot this week. About Eli. Ella. God, I don’t know. Daddy gets upset when any of us say Ella or call her ‘she.’ So I know you mean well, Claire, but I can’t do this right now. Just—see yourselves out. Take some cookies.”

She rushes out of the room. It’s hard to imagine Mr. and Mrs. Morris fighting. They still hold hands in public.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Claire says.

“You need to give them a little time. They’ll come around. Even Mr. Morris, I bet.”

“I hope so. This town is so backward. People barely understand what bisexual means. Transgender is going to be a real stretch. There’s a reason more kids aren’t out at school. Do you know how many times I