No Strings Attached

Jon felt her eyes on him. His throat tightened as the vaguely familiar man stepped forward. If only it were that simple. If only he were man enough...

"Thank you all for coming today. Some of you know me, know my personal struggles. For others, I may look vaguely familiar. That is part of the curse I have born my whole life. Being the son of a great man is never easy. Being the gay son of the greatest Marine general of a generation was and is the only life I have ever known."

Hands reached from behind the man, feminine ones on each shoulder. Steve turned and looked at each of the women, smiling.

"It was never easy. I think I always knew I was different. And no matter how hard I tried to be the son that my father wanted, it was never enough."

He paused and looked down at his shoes before continuing, "By the time I hit puberty, I knew. I knew that I was not attracted to girls like the other boys. I was blessed and cursed to come of age in a time when there was an active homosexual movement. At least, I had a word, something that described how I felt for the first time."

"But still, I pretended. I tried to deny who and what I was. To please my father mostly, but also moving from place to place like we did, living on one military base after another, there were not the opportunities to network with others like me. At times I thought I was the only one. The only gay kid around."

"Then, we moved here. The first people I met at my new school was this flaming queen and her studious best friend." He turned and held out his hands to the women, "And for the first time in my life, I felt accepted. That I was free to be me. At least around them."

"I don't know what might have happened to that fucked up kid. Oops, sorry, Mandy. I forgot about the kids." He looked out at the audience, "Sorry, kids. I'm sure many of you have heard that word before. You know I should not have used it. At least not here. I apologize."

Hope's teacher smiled and winked at her children as the man continued, "I don't know what would have happened to that messed up kid if it weren't for the two of you. You both have always been my anchor. My rocks. The only people I felt safe being me around. You were my best friends, and you still are."

"You were there by my side. You, especially Sarah, encouraged me to face myself, my fears, and my father. When I finally found the courage to come out to my parents, it was the two of you who were there for me, shoulders to cry on."

"That song says love is all you need. But there is something else, something we need alongside that love, maybe it is part of it, and maybe it is different. But love without acceptance is meaningless."

"I know that. I have spent all my adult life coming to terms with the words, 'you are still my son, and I will always love you, but I can't accept what you are.' I can't tell you the damage those words did. But, my girls know."

Tears spilled over the man's eyes and down his cheek as he addressed Sarah, "So, it is unconscionable what I put you through, sweetheart. I, of all people, should have understood how important that acceptance was when you came out as transgender."

"But I was selfish and as small-minded as my father. All I could think about was me - how I was losing my lover, my husband, how everything would change now. I am sorry. You deserved so much better. So much more than I gave you. Nothing I say now can make up for the hurt I caused you then. All I can promise is that I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make that up to you."

"You are the person I love. Your laughter. Your joie de vivre. Your smile. The way you always see the good in people, even me. It is your soul, your spirit that I love. It was not easy for me to understand that, to get to the point that I realized your body is just a container for that. And it does not matter. Yes, in this case, my eternal love, whether you are called Marcus or Sarah, does not matter. I love the person you are inside."

Jon's throat tightened at those words. The idea that a physical body did not matter, that love was more important than all that, struck to his very core. If only that were true.

***

Alicia felt those words like a hot knife cutting through butter. Never had she heard it better put into words. That was precisely how she felt about Jon. If only she could find some way of making him believe it.

Steve turned slowly to Mandy. "You have always been there for me. For us. Our best friend. But not until this past couple of years have I understood what that meant. The way that you fit perfectly between us. How you could see both sides without ever taking one. You were always just there."

"And I took that for granted too. I discounted the value of that friendship, simply because, for me, it was not sexual. But, sweetheart, as wonderful as it is and can be, there is more to life and love than mere sex. You showed me that too. And in the process brought us all closer. That too is love."

"Sarah and I are not complete without you. And this baby is just a physical representation of that. We will always be eternally thankful to you for being a part of our life. An equal part."

Steve took their hands and brought them to his lips, first kissing the back of Sarah's hand and then Mandy's.

"My girls. You complete me. You bring me peace. You comfort me. You challenge me to be a better man. I love you both the same and differently. And I know in my heart now that what we share, as unique, as different, as unfathomable as it is to this world, is, at its core, love. Deep and abiding love."

"Thank you both by sticking with me. For teaching me what love really is. For never giving up on me even when I pushed you away. Thank you for loving me."

Was that what it took? Was it as simple as not giving up? As loving him, being there, and showing Jon that she was not going anywhere?

And if it was, did she have that strength? Could she withstand more rejection like that night in the desert? Could she find it inside herself to try again?

Catching a glimpse of his damaged hand wrapped about their daughter's shoulder, Alicia knew it was not a choice. She had no other option. As Steve said, they belonged together. Why else would Jon have been saved? Why else could she never move on, never be interested in another man?

And Hope? She needed them both. But not battling and insecure, she needed them whole and united. If this world was to become a better place, if humanity was to evolve, stop sending boys and men like Jon off to be nothing more than cannon fodder for the greed and hubris of others, then that woman was right. We needed to recognize that love was the power that bound us all together.

The love of a mother for her child. The love of a woman for a man. Or a man for a man. A woman for a woman. Or any combination of that. Love was love. How and with whom we shared that was no one's business except our own and our partners.

That was the world she wanted to leave for Hope. A world where her daughter, where everyone was free to love who they wanted. And in this case, that began by modeling what love was. By finding the power within herself to take that risk.

Alicia reached over. She placed her hand over Jon's badly damaged one. He looked up at her, and she wanted, or perhaps needed, to believe that he understood. That he was trying to meet her halfway.

Hope looked up at them. She beamed from within as her tiny hand covered theirs. Yes, a three cord strand. That was what they were. What they would grow to become was still an open-ended question, but this was the beginning.

***

Jon brought the bottle of cold beer to his mouth and drew a long swig. It was a refreshing contrast from the stifling desert heat that was reaching its zenith. He stood on the edge of the artificially green lawn looking out at the stretches of seemingly barren sand and rock.

Was there some hidden meaning in that? That was just one of the myriad of questions that he had been trying to come to terms with since the ceremony ended three beers ago.

Hope, Amy, and a handful of other children from their class were running about, playing, and laughing. Alicia had drifted into conversation with a group of women, mostly centered around the woman who had officiated this unusual ceremony.

As an outsider, he was still trying to figure the complexities of it all out. He had quickly managed to realize why Steve looked so familiar. He was a younger version of the man under whom Jon had served for most of his decade in the Marines. He knew the high standards the man had as a commander, and he could not imagine what it would have been like being his son. Especially his gay son.

Of course, he had learned earlier that Sarah was transgender. She had been born with a penis, but that never felt right. He had not known though that Steve and Sarah were married. Well, he supposed technically, Steve was married to Marcus. He shook his head, too many beers to come to terms with that one.

But it was like the woman said, did any of that matter? Love was love, right? And he had seen enough of this world to know there wasn't enough of it to go around.

The thing that he was struggling with most, though, was that moment. When Alicia had reached across and touched his hand, or what little was left of it. The way she had looked at him. He could almost feel it. Love. Real love.

Not that he was sure he even knew what the hell that was. While he was not gay, he could most definitely identify with Steve when it came to being a disappointment to your parents. He was stuck right in the middle. A perfect older brother who excelled at everything. Academics, sports, and leadership. The sweet, baby sister that was the apple of everyone's eye.

Then there was Jon. Too active. Not focused enough. Too opinionated. Always getting his good clothes dirty. Never using the right fork. Hell, it was a fork, what did it matter which one you used for what?

And he certainly did not want to think about his first marriage. Had he ever loved her? Or was it all just another rebellion against his family, the great Tyler name? Had she felt that? Was that what had driven her into the arms of his best friend? Or was he giving them too much credit? Was it nothing more than too many long deployments and lust? Did it matter? No, he had never loved his wife.

No, only with her, with Alicia, had he caught fleeting glimpses of what he believed was love. But how did someone like him know? Was it love he saw in her face this afternoon? Or was it pity? Resignation maybe? Trying to make the best of things for Hope's sake?

And it was damned sure they needed to do that. It was the least they owed that little girl. The very least she deserved was two parents who put their differences and needs aside and did what was best for her. But was that enough for him? Could he settle for that? Especially with Alicia, the woman he loved? And he was more certain now than ever that he did love her.

"Looks like you could use another one," Jon turned to see Chris holding out another bottle of beer. But then he drew it back, "Wait, you aren't driving, are you?"

Jon shook his head, "Nope, one of the things the docs say this arm ain't good enough for."

Chris nodded and passed him the other bottle. "You still thinking about letting them amputate it?"

"Yeah. I know I should, but knowing and doing are sometimes two different things." Was he talking about the surgery or other, bigger issues in his life?

His friend sighed and joined him in staring out at the desert in silence for a long moment. "There comes a time when you gotta take the risk, bro."

Was his friend talking about the amputation or those more significant issues? Did that matter? "I know I'm not supposed to say this, but fuck, I'll blame the beers. I'm scared. What if I make the wrong decision? The wrong choice?"

"Like you think you did that day?"

How had the man known? How had Chris cut to the very core of what was bothering him most? How could he ever again trust his ability to make the right choice, when his decision had cost his friends, good men, their lives?

"Man, sometimes all we can do is play the hand that life deals us. Sometimes the cards don't go our way. But life isn't a card game; we don't get to fold when we're out of money, or luck. I've had too many fucking friends fold in this game. I'm not gonna blame them. Hell, knows I've thought about folding a few times myself."

"The thing is that sometimes life does deal us a winning hand. But even then, it is up to us to decide how we're going to play it. Do we go all-in? Or do we fold our full house aces high to a pair of deuces because we're afraid of betting too much and losing?"

"You're the only one that can make that decision, dude. But for what it's worth, your old lady is over there pumping that New Age guru for information on how to make someone realize that you love them, not their appearance. What you say we take our asses over and break up the girls' club?"

Jon brought the bottle to his lips and drained it. Dutch courage, maybe? But he wanted so desperately to believe that what his friend said was true. That what he had glimpsed in her eyes was real. But Chris was right, this was the highest stakes poker game he had ever played, and the thought of losing was paralyzing.

The funny thing was the thought of winning was almost as scary. Did he still have it inside of him to be the man she needed? A real husband this time. And a father. To Hope...and to any other children they had. Hell, he was behind schedule on that one. Seven wasted years and they had at least five more to add to the brood.

Yeah, Alicia was mini-vans, half-a-dozen kids, a cat, and he definitely wanted a dog. A nice big one. Not a Saint Bernard. Wouldn't be fair with this heat. A golden retriever or collie maybe. Hell, he was planning dogs and kids already, and he had not made love to his woman in seven long years. That needed to change. And the sooner, the better.

Might as well not bother with the damned condoms this time, they hadn't worked with the no-strings shit. Besides, a new baby brother or sister could not come fast enough for Hope. Yeah, sometimes life did deal you a winning hand. But you had to have the courage to go all in. And come what may, this hand he was betting it all.