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The mornings together, just the two of them, was nice. Kind. Rita adored their routine, where Larry would help prepare breakfast and would nudge her chin with his bandaged fingers with a smile in his voice as he wished her a good day. Larry was like her, completely platonic of course, other half. If she had met him before she would have set her mind on marrying him. From old photographs she had seen the Larry Trainor of before he had been quite the handsome fellow. Add that with his kindness and his skills in the kitchen, he would have been a dream . Though, none of that would have mattered all too much considering his inclination towards men.
Not that there was anything wrong with that.
Lots of Rita’s male audience had been of similar persuasion as Larry.
And, well, Rita was quite proud of how Larry had opened up about himself.
He seemed so—
So free.
It made Rita feel like she was lagging behind. Because no matter how she felt about taking her steps forward as a new woman, there was something holding her back. Just a little. Something that made her lips pinch when she looked at Larry as he hummed under his breath and when he would shyly mention finding a certain fellow in the pictures to be handsome.
Rita looked at the back of Larry’s head as he prepared breakfast, her fingers twisting at a piece of toast from the large pile already made, sitting in the middle of the table, innocently waiting for its accompanying main dishes of eggs, the specific brand kosher turkey bacon that Larry had triumphantly found hiding between the stacks in their local grocery store, hash browns, and perfectly rounded pancakes. Rita stuffed some of the pinched bread into her mouth and chewed, fast and upset, before deciding she was going to do it. She was going to ask the question that swirled and danced and mocked her for years.
“Larry? May I ask you a question?”
Larry turned his head over his shoulder before turning right back to his meal prep. “Well, I don’t see why not.”
Rita nodded her head a few times as she gathered up her remaining courage and fought from stuffing her toast right into her mouth. She could do this. She could do this. All she had to do was open her mouth and speak. Easy as pie. She made a living off of doing so. With one last breath so opened her mouth. “How did you know… you were, um.” She licked her lips and brought her hand up to soothe at her temple. “ Attracted to men?”
She could see right away how his shoulders tensed up before, slowly, Larry eased up and continued at his task. “I. Well I. It felt like everyone always knew before I did. I didn’t say anything, or mean anything, but everyone always just knew . It was like I had a sign taped to my back that said ‘queer’ on the back and I couldn’t turn around all the way to be able to read it. My parents, schoolmates, teachers. I don’t think I realized it was true until I was a teenager and I saw some boy, older kid who the girls would talk about, and I stopped and realized ‘oh. This is it. This is what everyone’s been saying about me. They’re right. I’m a monster. ’”
“You’re not a monster. You never were, not then and not now.” Rita said, standing up to rest a hand on her friend's shoulder. His head turned to face hers and Rita felt like she could feel his smile. She hoped he was smiling. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up something so heavy over breakfast.”
“It’s okay Rita. It—it helps. To talk about it.” Larry scoffed and shook his head. “I guess Cliff had a point about therapy, huh?”
“Technically that was all the rat, but yes. I’ve found that it is quite helpful to actually speak about the past.” Rita said with a smile as she moved to grab at the plate of hash browns, golden and sitting on the side of the counter ready to be taken to the table. Larry gave a small laugh. As she placed the food on the table, she looked over her shoulder at him as he placed the turkey bacon onto a plate. “I’m so happy for you Larry.”
Larry laughed, that little self-deprecating one that always made Rita want to hit at his shoulder and let him know just how wonderful and sweet and amazing he was. A catch if Rita could ever spot one. Not for her, not romantically at the very least, but for someone . “It’s not like I have any potential prospects now, but thanks. It’s nice to finally be—myself.”
“Oh, there’s plenty of people out there. There is bound to be a completely handsome and dreamy man out there who is able to sustain radioactive poisoning and live!” Rita grinned widely at Larry and brought her hands up to cup at her cheeks to emphasize just how beautiful the thought was.
Larry paused and gave her a silent, long stare before shaking his head. “No telling if I would even like this imaginary man, even if all that was true.”
Rita pouted as she shrugged her shoulders. “Well, there is a pretty handsome ro—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence Rita Farr!” Larry raised up his hand and shook a finger as Rita laughed and waved both her hands forward as a let the past live in the past gesture that Larry only shook his head at with a light groan. “Anyways, why does all this matter all of a sudden?”
The reminder caused Rita to pause, suddenly so unsure and lost all over again. She swallowed and bit her lip. “It’s been wonderful seeing you so happy, I was just… wondering. I.” She shook her head and glanced down at her clasped hands. Her nails were styled into a perfect french manicure with stunning red tips. Rita loved her nails. “There has always been a thought, at the very back of my head, but I always pushed it back. You lie enough to yourself, you can lie to everyone around you until it feels like it isn’t a lie anymore. It’s true. That man, he is quite handsome, just like the men in the pictures who your mother always cooed about and said you would end up with by following this path. Even when you were focused right on how beautiful Ethel Singer looks and you think ‘do I want to be her or do I want…’ I don’t know. It’s silly. It’s all very, very silly!” She shook her head and rubbed at her temple.
A hand set itself on her shoulder and she let herself sag, her shoulders drooping and her face too, just a little. “Rita.” Larry said softly. So softly she almost didn’t hear him. “It’s not silly. It’s how you feel. It’s who you are .” His voice, his hand, it was so soft. Rita hated that she couldn’t love him, or someone like him, or any other excuse. She shook her head and wiped at her eye.
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s not. Maybe I just want some different attention. Rita Farr,” she mused with a sniffle, “she always wants the spotlight.”
“Hey, come on now Rita. Don’t say that.” Larry rubbed at her shoulder. “You’ll figure it out.”
“I’m a woman going into her hundredth year Larry. Shouldn’t I know by now?” It was sad, that’s what it was, sad that Rita kept coming back to that thought, that little tickle of an emotion that made her whole body feel hollow. She was already so—
But she thought of Larry, how happy she was for him as he seemed to beam with joy. Of Danny, who had greeted them all with metaphorical open arms and with a plethora of odd and beautiful and strange and wonderful people who lived so openly and happily with Danny. They were so kind and proud of themself. Danny the Street, genderqueer and as beautiful as the people who lived in them. On them. Whatever.
“I’m pushing a hundred too you know and I’ve only just fully accepted who I am. It takes time Rita. Whatever you realize or accept, it’s fine to take your time discovering yourself.” Larry gave her shoulder a squeeze and Rita sniffed one last time. “Now c’mon, breakfast is ready. No need to go starving.”
So they sat and they ate on their wonderful weekend morning together, in their little apartment, with their little quirks and secrets exposed on the table as they discussed their plans for the day. Rita dabbed at the corners of her mouth as she complimented his wonderful meal and laughed just on the edge of too loud at Larry’s jokes. It was so normal. So pleasant. She smiled at Larry, who tilted his head to the side in a way that made her know he was smiling right back.