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The hour where Rodger was home, yet Glisten was still tidying up, was always quiet and awkward- at least on Glisten’s side of things. It’s made worse by Toodles deciding to spend time cleaning her room- leaving them alone together in the living room, where Rodger was pressing tobacco into a pipe and Glisten was washing dirty dishes in the kitchen, stealing glances over the counter at the man.
“Hey, Rodger--” They start, their tongue pressing against the inside of their cheek as Rodger waves a match over the top of the pipe, his face partially hidden in the rising smoke, his only response a short hum. “--Have you ever, y’know, watched the TV glow?”
Rodger glances at the TV- set to a random sports channel in the middle of american football season, but he’s smart enough to know that isn’t what Glisten means as he looks back at him, watching him shift awkwardly and glance around the room, avoiding him as if he hadn’t started the conversation in the first place.
“Admittedly, I have not ‘watched the TV glow’,” Glisten looks at the clock, watching the hands turn, as if Rodger would simply let him leave even if his shift was over- an infuriatingly curious man he was, and Glisten had already opened the curtains and gave him a look inside. “-But, I assume you have.”
Does Rodger even know what he’s talking about? Is he running with a metaphor he doesn’t understand? He probably never even had a TV, whilst Glisten’s has been on and loud for the past decade of his life. Desperately, they try to ignore it, but the reflection in the faucet drags their gaze back to it, the ever-present glow.
“I mean- yeah, I have. I just-” They look back down, scrubbing a particularly stubborn chunk of tomato sauce out of a porcelain bowl. “-Do you get it? Like, do you understand what it means? To- watch it glow.”
He inhales again on the pipe, smoke swirling out of it in thick puffs, almost mesmerising. Glisten finds themselves distracted watching him close his eyes as he hits, watching him stamp the match out once he finishes and roll his head back slightly as his eyes open once more and he addresses Glisten once more. “There was a movie about it, I believe.”
Distinctly, like echoing drums, their heart pounds into their chest. Sweat begins to pool at their forehead but they blame it on the moisture from the sink full of dishes and soapy water. Rodger hasn’t moved to stand, but he looks at Glisten with a sense of expectation, his pipe set aside and his arms resting on his knees.
“I saw it glow when I was younger. And then, well, my parents- they didn’t like the channel that was on, so they turned it off.” They don’t think they can continue washing dishes, so they set them down gently and grip onto the edge of the counter. A truth written in metaphor is still ultimately a truth, and it still stings the same.
“Did you turn it back on?” Glisten pauses, before looking up at where Rodger was sitting before- only to find him standing, leaning against the kitchen wall about 4 feet away. A pause stretches, uncomfortable and heavy, but Glisten doesn’t think they can interrupt it. They don’t know the answer. Rodger breaks it for him, “The broadcast is still here. You can still watch.”
Their throat feels dry, smoke wafts off Rodger like perfume, and their ugly basketball shorts and oversized hoodie speaks louder than any word could. “Don’t know if I could. What if..” What if their parents were right? Teagan always said that they were in the wrong, kicking them out as they did, and that Glisten can always be themselves with Teagan. Who are they, really? Does the TV still glow for them?
“..I don’t want to be a man,” They blurt out, forgoing the metaphor and just putting it out straight. Their breath grows uneven, and they turn, facing towards Rodger with a hand still hooked on the edge of the counter as if they’ll collapse without it. “-I never have, and- all of this,” They gesture vaguely at themselves, short hair and terrible outfit to make a mock imitation of manhood- “It’s not me.”
The silence is too much. Rodger spends time thinking, Glisten knows this, but it’s particularly awful right now, where they feel they bore their heart open to him. Smoke envelops them, and there’s a weight on their back that gently cradles them. They didn’t even realize they were crying until their tears began to wet Rodger’s collared shirt, weak body crumbling into him given the chance, their still soaking hands grasping at his back.
She tries to pull away, but he is unrelenting, only applying a little bit of force to pull her back. Glisten doesn’t complain- she only wished to save his shirt from a trip to the dry-cleaner. They always were an ugly crier, trembling in his arms and coughing spit into his shoulder. It’s so hard to breathe when snot clogs her nose. It wasn’t this bad when she told Teagan. She scrambles her mind to find the difference, but there’s nothing.
It feels like an hour when Rodger lets her go, holding her upright by a hand on her left shoulder, ripping a paper towel out of the roll and gently dabbing at her face.The rough paper scratches at her cheeks lightly, but she doesn’t say anything and simply lets Rodger continue until she’s recovered just enough into shaky breathing and an uncomfortably stuffy nose.
“Glisten-” Rodger starts, crumpling up the paper and tossing it into the trash. “You are welcome to be yourself in my home. I know that I and Toodles will find you pleasantly beautiful.” Glisten laughs, but it sounds more like a sharp exhale through her mouth.
“Wait, what?!”