Page 22 of Flogging Faith
Bex could see that. “That sounds like it would be a real boon for students who are struggling. It’s amazing your work does that—that you do that.”
“Thank you.” Faith blushed. “I helped develop the program; it’s one of our most popular ones. We have students coming from all over state, and sometimes from out of state as well. You’re new to our Montana, right?”
“I am,” said Bex. “Been here about six months, but stuck to the big cities, so it hasn’t been too bad for me.”
“The big cities are usually okay on general queer rights,” said Faith, “but gender identity…” She paused. “We had a lot of complaints about the trans and nonbinary specialist sessions at work. Montana’s one of the only states to completely ban drag queens from reading in libraries. And two years ago, the governor tried to ban all gender-affirming care for minors, and it was only halted because the District Court put a stop to it.” She took a shuddery breath, and Bex scooted over to give her a hug.
“It’s shit,” she said. “In the UK, they’ve currently got a complete ban on puberty blockers for minors in place, and in our queer communities, we’ve seen the impact the ban is having. There are trans children who’ll never get to grow up, never get to live full lives as their true selves because they can’t bear their current existence.” Bex’s eyes filled with tears and she angrily dashed them away. “Fuck. Thank you for creating a safe space for those kids; that’s everything.”
Faith nodded. “It’s one of the reasons why I was okay with coming here. When I spoke to Mandi about visiting, she talked about Tay. Knowing that Rawhide Ranch is fully inclusive means everything. It means we can be ourselves and be safe. That’s not a gift everyone has. I do miss being able to work with clay though. I usually do some work every day.”
“You said there were two main reasons why pottery.”
“Yes, the other is that my brain quiets when I’m working. I stop worrying about life and my day-to day-stuff, because I have to focus on what I’m making or the wheel will destroy it. My brain quieting isn’t something that happens all that often, so I value it when it does.” She shot a look up at Bex. “Flogging does that too. I really love that.”
Bex leaned down and kissed her. “I can see how that would be amazing. Anything you want to know about me?”
“So what brought you to the US?” asked Faith.
Bex had been expecting the question but hadn’t really considered what she’d say when the subject was broached. At work, she usually muttered something about a love for travel, but she didn’t want to use an answer she knew by rote with Faith—especially when it wasn’t strictly true.
“My dad died last year,” she said, her voice completely level. She didn’t need sympathy, but braced herself for it, just in case it was offered.
CHAPTER 15
Oh shit. Faith knew there were very strict rules about how you were supposed to respond when someone said a parent had died, but when she looked at Bex, Bex looked like she didn’t really want to talk about it.
Even though Bex was opening up, Faith could feel something coming up between them.
She decided to be honest. “Look, death is shit, but I never really understand if me telling you something you already know helps at all. So, I’m sorry for your pain. Is that okay to say?”
Bex smiled and huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, that is definitely okay to say, pickle. And I know what you mean. It always feels like people are being sympathetic to ease their own guilty consciences—or maybe that’s just my family.”
“Ah,” said Faith.
“Yeah. Dad died and all of sudden they started coming out of the woodwork, keen to help me sort through all of his stuff when they couldn’t be arsed to come and visit him in the two years leading up to it. It had all been on my shoulders, not—” she added fervently, “that I ever begrudged him that. It had always just been me and Dad, and I wasn’t going to let him down.” There was a pause, as if Bex was working out what to say next. “I mean, they’re family, and everyone kept telling me that I needed to be more understanding. Only they hadn’t been there. They hadn’t given a crap about Dad when he was alive, so why would he give a crap about them in death?” Her face set, hard, as if she was bracing herself for criticism. “So I dealt with all the legal stuff, pointed out that no they weren’t entitled to anything just because they were blood relatives, and then I left.”
Bex looked haunted.
“That must have been difficult.”
“I mean, yes and no. Dad had always been home for me. When he wasn’t there anymore, it was harder to stay. It felt wrong without him. But I sold the place, because it would have felt more wrong seeing them there, when they’d never bothered visiting whilst he was alive.” She swallowed and forced a smile. “You’re getting all the emotion from me today.”
“Is that okay?” asked Faith. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.” These were big emotional feelings and she didn’t know how best to support Bex. Usually that would have sent her into a bit of a spiral, but with Bex, she knew all she had to do was ask. “What do you need?”
Bex looked startled at the questions. “It’s weird, but somehow I’m okay talking about it with you—more so than even with my best friend. And as for need? Well, I could do with a hug?”
Faith was more than happy to oblige with that. It turned out that the two of them slot together perfectly, as if they’d been made to fit next to each other. She shifted so that she leant back against the trunk of the tree whose shade they sat in and lifted her arm.
Bex scooted over and snuggled up to her, her head fitting in the hollow below her chin.
Comfortable silence ensued.
Too often, silence felt weighted, like there was something she was supposed to be doing that she’d missed, but that wasn’t the case with Bex. With Bex, silence was just that, silence.
Her gaze fell upon a bag packed into the picnic basket, and she reached over to grab it. “What’s this?”
Bex turned her head to look. “I’m not sure. Tay must have put it in there.”