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Pork chops for lunch. That’s what James had insisted on, despite Marley complaining about being tired and really not wanting to cook for lunch. But he’d insisted, and so Marley obliged him. It was Father’s Day, after all. He deserved something extra. Didn’t he?
And so Marley is in the kitchen, breading pork chops and boiling noodles for macaroni and cheese, when their phone goes off on the counter next to them. “For fuck’s sake,” they mutter, haphazardly swiping to answer the call and put it on speaker with the knuckle of one of their fingers, hands already covered in raw pork. “Yep?” They say when they manage to get the call on, voice instantly shifting to a polite, open, and happy tone as opposed to the annoyed one they had when the phone began ringing.
“Hey, Marley, I can’t make it into work tomorrow. My mom has a doctors appointment and she thought my brother would be taking her, but turns out he’s not so I have to take her.” Sarah, one of Marley’s employees in the bookstore.
“Uuhhmmm, would you be able to make it in in the afternoon? If the appointment is in the morning…”
“No, it’s in the complete middle of the day, and it’ll take a while. I’d be able to work maybe two hours in the morning, and that’s it.”
“Yeah… No point in you coming in for two hours.” Marley lets out a small sigh, careful to keep their tone relaxed and kind as they speak. Sarah’s mom had been in and out of the hospital for months now, but Sarah was one of the most genuine and hardworking employees in the store. “I’ll find someone to take the shift.”
“Thanks, I’m so sorry this is happening, I promise I’m not avoiding work, I just-“
Marley laughs gently, trying to reassure the woman. “I know, I got you. Don’t worry about it.”
“Okay, thank you. I’ll see you Tuesday.”
“Yeah, no problem. See you then.”
Sarah ends the call, and Marley sighs again, heavier, as they begin running through the schedule. Who could they call in for Sarah’s shift? Maybe Mason… They’ll text him as soon as they finish cooking and see.
They put the pork chops on a pan, then slide them into the oven before checking the water to see if it was boiling. Not yet. They lean against the counter, scrolling Pinterest, content to sit in here and wait for the water to boil rather than leave the kitchen and have to talk to their father.
Unfortunately, it seems they will be doing both. Their father walks in, leaning on his cane as he glares down at Marley, who stops themself from rolling their eyes before putting their phone away. “Yeah?”
“I heard that call from the living room. I heard what that girl called you, Lucy.” He says it so accusingly, like Sarah had done something unforgiveable by calling Marley by their chosen name, and that Marley too was at fault for not correcting her.
Marley takes a deep breath, closing their eyes briefly before looking at their father. This fucking conversation again, of all things? They were not in the mood. “Yeah, Marley is my legal name. Has been for a year and a half now. You need to respect that.”
James just scoffs, his glare becoming more condescending as he stands up as straight as he can, trying to intimidate Marley. And perhaps, if Marley had been in a kinder mood, and not been so pent up, they would have dropped it, wouldn’t have pushed the confrontation. But they were not. “You cannot talk to me about respect when you don’t even respect the name I gave you at your birth. I chose that name for you, and you reject it. You don’t respect even the first things I did for you.”
“You might’ve chosen my birthname, but you don’t own me, so you don’t get to decide what I’m called. My name is Marley, not Lucy. Why can’t you respect me?” Marley is actively trying to keep their voice down, and stay at a tone he would consider proper of a “young lady” but they’re so tired of this bullshit, of this constant battle that left them dreading every weekend.
“Lucy, I am your father and as such I have a right to what your name is. I raised you and brought you up in this world, and I deserve your respect because of that, you selfish brat.” James, however, is not making the same efforts of controlling his tone, each word full of a hatred so strong and intense that it hurt worse than any hit could’ve. Marley flinches at the words accordingly, years of those same phrases slamming back into them. They swallow nervously, inhaling deeply as they try to control themself.
“You got to name me because I was a baby, and too stupid to be able to name myself. I chose Marley when I was sixteen, dad, and I waited multiple years to make sure I liked it before changing my legal name to match. I am plenty smart enough to name myself now, and deserve that autonomy. I’m not disrespecting you by changing myself, I am expressing and molding myself to be what makes me happiest.” They knew better than to argue about how disrespectful this was to them. As far as their father was concerned, they deserved no respect from him.
James, at this point, has the audacity to actually fucking laugh at them. “What? Molding yourself by identifying as a they/them? You aren’t expressing anything other than your continued stupidity and sheep mindset! That non-binary bullshit doesn’t exist, and you know that damn well.”
Marley flinches again, taking another deep breath to hold back tears. “No. It is real!” They’re hiding their hands behind their back, picking at a seam on their dress in an effort to keep themselves grounded and capable of proper rebuttals. If they lost their senses and stopped being logical, they would only prove James right.
“Oh yeah? Then explain it to me.” James gives them a smug little grin, as if he knows that is how he’ll win.
“I fucking have. You refuse to understand it!”
“No no no. You don’t explain it, you just tell me it means you don’t identify as a boy or a girl, and that you consider yourself to be something other, but there isn’t anything other! Which is why your bullshit answer doesn’t hold up.” He finishes off with a smirk even prouder than when he started this, and now Marley is biting the inside of their cheek to stop the tears from overflowing.
They turn away from him, walking towards the exit from the kitchen that James isn’t blocking, only to immediately realize they can’t because there is food they’re still cooking. “It’s not bullshit.” They wipe at their eyes, to prevent the tears gathering from actually falling down their face, and take another deep, shaky breath. “It’s real, it’s my reality, even if you refuse to understand it.”
“Your reality is so fucking warped and twisted that you believe things that aren’t real. You need to figure out what the fuck the world actually is, and that you’re a fucking woman. I should send you to that fucking mental ward again-“
“The mental ward that got you investigated by CPS after you tried to send me there? Being trans isn’t a fucking mental illness that gets you sent to a fucking mental hospital, it’s one that gets treated with medicine and clothes and shit. You can’t change the mental, but you can change the fucking body.”
“You disgrace people that are actually trans, Lucy. Do you think that the people who do take medicine, who do go through surgery and everything to transition, support you? When you’re making a fucking joke out of them by pretending to be some third, nonexistent gender? You’re being fucking pathetic, and hurting the people who are actually trans.”
No. No, Marley isn’t! They’re just as valid as binary trans people, right? Every binary trans person they knew respected their pronouns and gender. On the server, online, Blackberry was trans, and he not only respected Marley but sympathized with them in some ways, right? Their gender isn’t a cruel joke. It’s not something just to fit in. It’s not.
“I am valid,” they say quietly, eyes shut tight as they take deep breaths. They don’t say it to argue against their father as much as they do to remind themself of the truth of that statement.
James laughs again, and his laugh hits their thoughts like scalding water, making everything hurt and feel wrong, feel so wrong. They felt so stupid, was their existence just fucking nonsense? Was it just pure bullshit to hurt actual trans people? Fuck, they’re disgusting, they’re so wrong, so gross and mean.
“I am valid,” they mutter quietly, hands slowly fisting and unfisting at their sides, mental fists beating back the thoughts in their head. No, they’re not trash. Their gender is real, no matter how disgusting and fake it feels right now.
“You’re not valid, not with this bullshit. You’re a woman and you need to get that through your stupid fucking head.”
Tears fall down Marley’s cheeks now, finally escaping their eyes, and they’re trembling with their anger. “I need to finish cooking. Leave, and I’ll finish, or I’ll leave the house now and you can try to pull that heavy ass pan out of the oven on your own.” Something they knew he wouldn’t be able to do, the disability that led them to living close to him and visiting his house on weekends too restricting for him to do much cooking himself. And they’d left him to do things like that on his own before.
James’ scowl deepens, knowing it’s not an empty threat, scoffing and rolling his eyes before heading back to the kitchen exit near him. “Fine, threaten your disabled father with things you know he can’t safely do so that you can get your fucking way. Selfish bitch.”
Marley doesn’t look at him as he walks back to the living room, staring at the kitchen counter as more silent tears run down their cheeks.