I glanced at Christa, who appeared saddened by this reaction, but not surprised. Of course. What on earth had I been thinking, introducing my Bible-thumping mother to my transgender spouse without preparing her for it first? I realized now how stupid I’d been, that I should’ve taken her out to brunch, to a public place where Christa couldn’t accidentally interrupt us.
Christa stepped forward and held one hand out to my mother. “I know it’s hard to accept, but I’m home. I’m here to help raise Ethan.”
Ma pulled herself to her feet, wobbling slightly. I didn’t know if it was from the alcohol, the shock, or both. Then she took two steps away from the table and slapped Christa so hard her head jerked backward. I gasped. “What could you possibly know about raising a son? What could you know ab
