Chapter Text
So, here’s the thing: Lou might just be trans, and Bob has no idea how to deal with that. Like, loving his kid no matter what, he can do that, right? It’s as easy as breathing, easier, because he has trouble breathing when he goes up stairs too fast but he can’t imagine not loving his kids, can’t imagine what the equivalent of going up stairs too fast would be for that. So he’s got that in the bag but, but this, this is- this is bigger than that and it’s not about him, it’s about Lou and what (he? she?) needs, and Bob is bad at this emotional needs stuff at the best of times.
He calls Marshmallow, and is grateful when she agrees to meet up with him to talk. If anyone can help him, it’s someone who’s gone through the same kind of things.
“I think my kid might be trans,” he blurts out, as soon as he’s sure they’re somewhere private.
“Which one?” Marshmallow asks, and it’s an innocent enough question but the way she asks it- suddenly he’s rethinking all of his kids, has he missed something? He shakes his head. He’ll deal with that later.
“It’s Lou- you’ve seen her lately, right? The haircut and the clothes and the name…”
Marshmallow nods and hums an affirmative. “You know that doesn’t have to mean anything, don’t you? Some girls just like to look like boys. Is there something else?”
So he tells her about the farmer’s market. About the way Lou had stiffened at his side and refused to look at him when the guy had called (her? him?) his son. This gets him another nod.
“That does sound like something to me,” she says gently. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because…” Bob rubs at his neck. “Because I don’t know what to do. This is so far beyond anything I could have prepared for and I- I don’t wanna mess it up and end up breaking my kid’s heart like those parents you hear about. I, I guess I was just wondering if you could help me. Tell me what I'm supposed to do.”
The look she gives him when he says this makes his knees melt, and then she starts talking. He listens, tries to understand. He wants to do this right.
“The most important thing,” she finally says, “is that you accept him, no matter what.”
“That’s the most important thing? Not loving h- him?”
She shakes her head. “No, baby. You can love someone without accepting them for who they genuinely are. You can patronize him, or treat it like a phase and wait for him to grow out of it, or you can ignore it, and still love him. What he needs is to know that you’re gonna let him take the lead on his own identity.”
That makes sense. He thinks. And Bob can definitely do that. He’d been prepared to accept Louise even when she was going to grow up to be a master assassin wanted in eighteen countries and destined to die in a fiery explosion when interpol caught up to her and she decided they wouldn’t take her alive. Compared to that, accepting that Lou is his son sounds like a cakewalk.
“I think I can do that,” he says.
“I know you can.” She gives him another of those knee-melting looks. “You’re doing good so far. Givin’ him space to figure himself out and lettin’ him know you’re there when he’s ready. That’s good.”
“You think?”
“You’re gonna be fine, Bob.”
“Thanks, Marshmallow.”