“I wonder if she’ll become an activist for LGBT causes now,” Liz said, and Kitty laughed.
“That isn’t how she sees herself at all, or how she sees him. She definitely thinks of him as a guy, and she’s into the whole chivalry thing. Well, it does sound like his firsthand knowledge of women’s bodies is a bonus with sex.”
“Ugh.” Liz put up a hand, her palm to Kitty, and Kitty laughed again.
“You’re such a prude.”
“I’m not a prude,” Liz said. “Good for them. But I don’t need to hear about it.”
“Then why are you asking me all these questions?”
LYDIA’S TEXT ARRIVED in midmorning the next day, sent as a group message to Jane, Liz, Mary, and Kitty: Were coming back tonite having a party can u guys get some alcohol Another text followed: At our place around 9
And then a third: No champagne too sugary but tequila/hard cider not the cheap kinds An explosion of sororal texts ensued.
From Kitty: Congrats!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
From Jane: I wish I could be there, congratulations!
From Mary: Are you enjoying being a lesbian?
From Liz: I think it’s important for you to reach out to M & D
From Kitty: Their acting bonkers
From Liz: Also tell Ham I look forward to having him as a brother in law From Mary: “Brother” in law
From Lydia: Mary trust me ham is more masculine than 99% of dudes out there
From Lydia: M & D can think whatever they want From Lydia: We use a 9 inch dildo Mary u should try it some time maybe u wouldn’t be so fucking grumpy From Lydia: Isn’t it funny I’m the youngest but the 1st to get married???
THE REMARKS THAT had previously echoed in Liz’s head—I’m in love with you, I can’t stop thinking about you—had been replaced. As she stood in the shower rinsing shampoo from her hair, as she ate a turkey sandwich, as she drove to Hyde Park Wine & Spirits and compliantly purchased noncheap tequila and hard cider, and then to Joseph-Beth Booksellers, where she acquired a paperback titled Transgender 101: A Simple Guide to a Complex Issue, the line that echoed instead was I’m sure you’ve heard from my brother about him and Caroline. Driving along Edwards Road, she thought, I’m sure you’ve heard from my brother about him and Caroline. I’m sure you’ve heard from my brother about him and Caroline. I’m sure you’ve heard from my brother about him and Caroline.
Back in her room, Liz looked online and found the location and meeting times of a support group for family members of transgender individuals. She then found the names of three family therapists, copied down the information by hand, folded the piece of paper, inserted it into an envelope on which she wrote Mom & Dad, and attached the envelope to Transgender 101 with a rubber band. Finally, when she could think of no other gestures to convince herself she was a dutiful daughter and sister, Liz booked a ticket on a flight to New York for the following morning.
LYDIA WORE A short yellow sundress and flats, and she did seem filled with a newlywed bliss Liz had never really believed existed. By way of greeting, the bride held out her left hand to Kitty and Liz (Mary had decided not to attend the party), and an enormous emerald-cut diamond ring atop a diamond-encrusted wedding band caught the light. “We got them at Tiffany’s on the Magnificent Mile,” Lydia said. “They cost twenty thousand dollars altogether.”
“They’re pretty,” Liz said.
“Did Ham pay in cash?” Kitty asked.
Ham approached then, and though Liz detected in him an underlying wariness as they both leaned in to hug, he, too, seemed genuinely happy. “Congratulations,” Liz said. “Welcome to the family.”
“I realize this didn’t play out in the ideal way,” Ham said. “But I hope you know, Liz and Kitty, that I intend to honor and care for your sister.”
His earnestness was both touching and embarrassing; also, Liz was aware of scrutinizing his goatee in a way she hadn’t in the past. She murmured, “Of course.”
“I plan to keep trying with your parents,” he said. “I think it’s best to let them have some space for now, but I’m not giving up.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Liz said, and then a tall, red-haired woman she’d never met embraced Ham and, in doing so, interrupted the conversation.
About three dozen other guests—visibly athletic men and women in their twenties, thirties, and forties, plus a smattering of preppy young women who were childhood friends of Lydia’s—milled about. Ham’s house was a narrow and immaculate five-story dwelling in Mount Adams with a granite-filled kitchen and a roof deck. Setting her tequila and cider on the dining room table, where a bar had been assembled—there were, in fact, some bottles of champagne, one of which Liz poured from for herself—Liz was accosted by Jenny Teetelbaum, Lydia’s best friend from Seven Hills. At a normal volume, Jenny said, “Isn’t it crazy about Ham? I would never have guessed.” In the hope of setting an example, Liz lowered her own voice. “I’m excited for them,” she said.