“Penn?”
“Bathroom,” he called. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. Long day?”
“Very. What’s new here?”
“Not much. Quiet night. Leftover pasta in the fridge if you want.”
“Thanks. What are you doing in here?”
He hesitated. “Uh … work. I just wanted a little privacy so I’m doing it in here.”
She looked at his laptop. Vaginas. A plethora of vaginas. Insides and outsides. Close-ups, glamour shots, selfies. Films of vaginas in action. Please God, Rosie prayed, let him be looking at porn.
He came out of the bathroom, looked at her looking and looked sheepish.
“Feeling randy?” she asked hopefully. “Just wanted a little alone time?”
“Vagina shopping,” he admitted.
“Oh, Penn.”
“Just … looking.”
“She’s ten. No surgeon in the world is going to cut off her penis.”
“They don’t cut it off. They more like … turn it inside out.”
“No surgeon in the world is going to turn a ten-year-old’s penis inside out.”
“Not yet, obviously. I’m just starting the research. There are some really remarkable doctors who—”
“You’re getting way, way ahead of yourself here.”
“I’m just starting the process.”
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Yes, Penn, why? She’s got another year, maybe more, she can be free of medical intervention at all. She’d have years, who knows how many, on hormone blockers if that’s the direction she and we decide to go. There are a zillion possibilities between here and vaginoplasty. What you’re doing right now makes about as much sense as shopping for a suit for Roo’s wedding.”
“It’s just … well, it’s pretty exciting, Rosie. Do you know a lot about sex-reassignment surgeries? They can make her a working vagina. It can do everything yours can. Her lovers won’t be able to tell the difference. Her gynecologist won’t even be able to tell the difference. They’re doing it on minors in other countries. We could get this done before she went to college. Talk about a fresh start. It’s some kind of miracle. You should see these sites. They—”
“You didn’t answer the question, Penn.”
“What question?”
“She’s ten. Why are you doing this now?”
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Rosie, but push has crossed right over to shove here. In between, half-assed, secretly, just socially, it’s not cutting it anymore. We have to commit. We have to go all the way. Otherwise, she’s just a guy in a dress.”
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Penn, but he cut off all his hair, put away all his girl clothes and toys, and is, as we speak, reverting to Claude with Cheerios.”
“And she hasn’t come out of her room in a week. That’s how depressed she is about it.”
“Or scared. Or confused. Or worried about disappointing us. Or worried about changing her mind. Or maybe she is depressed, but it’s not clear to me why. It could be that she’s depressed about not being all-girl. Or it could be that she’s depressed about everyone finding out, which is not the same thing. Or it could be she’s depressed because she doesn’t know who she is or who she wants to be, and she can’t stand thinking about it anymore.”
“No, I think that’s you.” Penn closed his laptop.
“But instead of trying to figure out all that might be going on, you just want to do surgery.”
“I don’t just want to do surgery. I want to look into the option of surgery. And I want to do it long before we think we need it because it’s not a minor undertaking, and that’s how seriously I’m taking this.”
Without the laptop glow, it was suddenly very dark in the room. “I get that, Penn. I do. But even thinking about this right now is part of the problem.”
“How can that be? How can doing research and having more information and thinking through complicated issues with time to spare possibly be a problem?”
“Because she’s having doubts”—Rosie held her arms out from her sides like her daughter did when she was upset—“so we have to live in the doubt place with her. She’s undecided, so we have to be undecided too. If she doesn’t know, we can’t tell her, can’t even have something in mind. These are her decisions to make.”
“How can she make this decision, Rosie?” Penn’s voice was shaking. “She’s ten. She doesn’t know what genitalia is for beyond peeing with. She can’t make decisions about sex, about the importance of sensitivity, lubrication, dilation, reproduction. She can’t consider what a sexual partner will make of what’s under her pants. We don’t even know if she’s going to be gay or straight. She can’t possibly make these decisions. As you keep saying, she’s ten. So we’re going to have to do it for her.”