“I don’t know what to wear,” I muse as I look through my stuff. Mell is leaning against my door frame with his arms crossed as he looks at me with a raised eyebrow. The bruise around his nose and under one eye is worse today and he looks worn out. “Do I go in boy mode or wear something more feminine?” 

Mell chuckles. “I think you should wear what you’re most comfortable in,” He says, shrugging, “Ma will love you no matter what you wear.”

“What about your dad?” I ask nervously.

Mell rolls his eyes. “Dad might not even be home, he’s always either working or fishing with his friends.” He sounds bitter about this. “Leaves Ma lonely at home so often.”

“What does your dad do?” I ask as I take out a black velvet dress I bought on impulse that I haven’t worn yet. I hold it up to myself in the mirror and frown.

“Dad’s a mechanic,” Mell says with an air of disinterest in the conversation, “He overworks himself too much. That dress is beautiful, you should wear it.” He sounds much more interested in the dress than the topic of his father.

I take the dress and a new pair of tucking panties I bought just for the dress and go to my bathroom to change. Mell follows along but I stop him outside the bathroom. “Uh-uh,” I say.

“I’ve seen you naked,” Mell says with a chuckle. 

“I wasn’t ready. I’m still not ready, I think,” I say uncomfortably. Mell looks sad. “I’m sorry, it’s just this damn dysphoria.” I know it’s not fair to him because I’ve seen him naked as well so it feels imbalanced but I’m just not ready yet.

Mell smiles softly with that sad expression still on his face and leans in to kiss me. I kiss him back, almost getting lost in it before he holds my waist and retreats back. “It’s okay,” He says softly, “Whenever you’re ready I’ll be here.”

“Thanks,” I say quietly, and close the door after giving him one more kiss on the lower part of his jaw.

Mell’s childhood home is a half hour drive from where I live in Congress Heights. It’s a red brick row home in a decent area of the city with a small yard out front behind a fence and gate. Mell parks on the street since there’s no off-street parking, pulling off a flawless parallel parking job on the first try.  

He opens the passenger side door for me and I slide out, smoothing the velvet dress down nervously. “I’m worried your parents won’t like me,” I say anxiously.

Mell kisses me on the cheek. “They will,” He promises me. He opens the gate for the two of us and we walk up the front porch. Mell knocks on the door.

“Welcome in!” Mrs. O’Malley chirps excitedly as she opens the door to greet us. She smiles so warmly at me that all my anxieties surrounding meeting her and possibly Mr. O’Malley fade away almost immediately. 

Mell has his arm around my waist, his hand resting comfortably on my left hip, further making me feel more comfortable in this situation. He knows how nervous I am to do this.

“Thank you so much,” I say quietly, unable to help but smile back at her as I enter the house.

“You must be Lanie,” Mrs. O’Malley says eagerly, “I’m Siobhan. Wonderful to meet you.” I find her Irish accent very soothing. She’s maybe 5’8 or so, with rich auburn hair that flows down her back and around her shoulders, stopping around her waist. It’s a little darker than Mell’s hair. I hope to have my hair as long as hers one day. 

I nod, bowing slightly to her as I take my shoes off at the entryway. “It’s nice to meet you,” I say honestly. I look around me and take in the interior of the house. There’s a lot of stuff everywhere but it all fits together well and doesn’t seem cluttered. It gives off an air of comfortable and cozy maximalism. “This is a lovely home.” 

Mell breathes a sigh of relief and I look at him with a questioning glance. He laughs awkwardly. “Your apartment and room are so… sterile, I thought maybe you’d be overwhelmed by this.” His mother chuckles.

“No, I like it,” I say insistently, my face growing hot, “Just because my style is different doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate this.”

Siobhan lightly smacks Mell. “Don’t be so rude to our guest now, Michael,” She scolds him, “You’re not allowed make the lass uncomfortable in my home now, y’hear?” 

“Yes, Ma,” Mell says with a cheeky grin. 

“Come in now out of the entryway,” Siobhan gestures to us as she begins to make her way into the house, “I’ve lunch and tea made for ye all.” She turns back to me and grins. I now see where Mell gets his smile from.

I follow after the two of them as Mell takes my hand, leading me through his childhood home. 

“How are you feeling today, Ma?” Mell asks as he pulls a chair out for me at the dining room table. I thank him and take a seat, and they take their own seats as well. “I’ve missed you at the fights.”

Siobhan sighs in frustration. “Head really hurts today but wanted to see ye all,” She admits. I frown, feeling bad for imposing when she’s not feeling well. She notices. “Don’t worry, I would cancel if I wanted to,” She reassures me with a smile.

“Should you see a doctor about this?” Mell asks, concern evident in his voice. “These headaches have been really persistent.”

“I’ve been meaning to call but keep forgetting,” Siobhan admits, “I’m fine though, lad.”

Mell doesn’t seem convinced. “I dunno,” He says slowly, “Is it just the headaches?”

“Well I’ve had dizziness and fatigue but that can happen with headaches,” Siobhan says dismissively. “I really think I’m okay. No need to worry about me. Plus yer father always has the car, how am I to get to doctor?”

“Ma, I can take you,” Mell says insistently, “Scooter and Izaak won’t mind me taking the day off to get my mother to a checkup.”

I’ve been quiet this whole time, not wanting to interrupt their conversation since it seems important. Siobhan uses this as an opportunity to end the conversation on the topic. “Listen lad, we’re boring your lass.”

My stomach flutters a bit as she calls me ‘lass’. It’s incredibly affirming to be called that by Mell’s mother. “Oh no, I’m fine–” I start, but she continues.

“How about I make the appointment and you take me just to put yer mind at ease?” She smiles warmly at her son. 

Mell’s brows wrinkle but he nods, his shoulders relaxing. “That would be good,” He says, relieved. “Thanks, Ma.”

Siobhan turns to me now, grinning. “So what about you then?” She asks, “Are you on any hormones or anything?”

My brain stalls out as she asks that and I just stare at her blankly as an uncomfortable pit forms in my stomach. I haven’t really considered hormone therapy yet since I’m still unsure what pronouns I want to go by but eventually I would like to start them. Maybe sooner than later, now that I’m thinking about it. I’d like at least a little bit of a bigger chest and a more feminine face shape. Mine is too long and oval shaped for my liking. There’s plenty of beautiful women with that face shape out there, but it just doesn’t feel right for me, personally. I know estrogen won’t change my bone structure– for that I’ll possibly need surgery– but I’ve seen a change in Lola’s facial features since she started estrogen. She’s said it’s from the fat in her face settling differently. I should talk to Lola more about this.

“Ma!” Mell hides his face with his hands as he turns bright red, “You can’t just ask someone that.”

Siobhan’s eyes go wide. “Oh! So sorry,” She apologizes quickly, “Was that rude of me?”

“Yes,” Mell says, exasperated, but I shake my head.

“Um, it’s probably best not to ask that kind of question but it’s okay,” I say sheepishly, “I’m not mad or upset and it got me thinking that maybe I do want to go on hormones soon.” My stomach growls and I feel my face heat up from embarrassment.

Mell chuckles. “Ma, I think it’s time for lunch.”

Siobhan gasps. “Lunch! Oh goodness, I’m sorry.” She stands abruptly and runs to the kitchen where she brings back a tray of sandwiches. “Kept it simple,” She explains, “Figured sandwiches were a safe bet. Let me get the tea.” She puts the sandwich tray on the table and disappears again, coming back once more with a kettle and three cups.

“These look so good, thank you,” I say with a small smile, and I mean it. Each sandwich looks like those little sandwiches one would get at a fancy tea. I don’t think ‘simple’ was the right word for her to use but I don’t say that out loud. 

“Go on then, dig in,” Siobhan says earnestly, “Don’t be shy.”

Mell reaches for a sandwich as soon as she says that and the three of us begin to eat.