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Ellie is cutting up fruit with a kind of ruthless efficiency that reminds Zoey of their mother. Perhaps it’s something you get from medical school. Liz cuts up fruit like she’s giving a cooking demo on a morning show, all chatting and unnecessary explanations. Zoey’s never seen herself cut up fruit, but she’d guess she looks like Liz.
Ellie has invited Zoey over for lunch. So far Vic and Isobel - who, at four years old, has declared she is too grown up to be called Izzy - have not made an appearance, though Ellie has promised they will. The menu - grilled cheese, tomato soup from a can, and cut fruit wouldn’t impress Martha Stewart, but it makes Zoey think of long afternoons from her childhood.
Zoey’s been telling a meandering story about Charlie’s run for DC city council. “Charlie is grateful to dad for all of his help, but he has his own ideas.” Charlie grew up in DC. There’s a credibility that comes from that which dad, with all his New Hampshire pride, should understand.
“Mmhm,” says Ellie, now buttering bread for grilled cheese. But she doesn’t say maybe you should talk to Liz, which is good enough for Zoey.
The fact that her husband and her father love each other so much is a source of joy and annoyance and mystery to Zoey, often all at the same time. It’s sometimes a little hard to talk to Charlie about her father. Ellie doesn’t seem to be focusing on her enough to really talk about dad, so Zoey talks about the campaign volunteers. Most of them are either eager college kids or retirees with too much time on their hands. One is Josh Lyman. Ellie put the sandwiches on the griddle and the soup in a pot.
She notices that, temporarily relieved of tasks, Ellie is twisting a tea towel in her hands. She’s almost literally wringing her hands, which Zoey has never seen anyone do before. Just then her sister turns to her.
“Zoey, I have to talk to you,” she says with resolve.
“Okay.” Zoey tries to look encouraging. Knowing Ellie this could be anything.
“I never - “ Ellie’s hand is shaking slightly as she reaches to flip a grilled cheese sandwich. “I never liked men. I liked women.”
“Are you getting divorced?” Zoey asks the first thing that comes into her mind.
“No!” Ellie yelps, and it’s probably a testament to her medical training that no sandwiches are lost. “I never liked men, but when I met Vic I was really drawn to Vic, which surprised me. We spent more time together, and eventually Vic told me - Zoey have you ever heard of transgender people?”
“Yes” says Zoey, sounding more confident than she feels. She’s seen Boys Don’t Cry and TransAmerica.
“Vic has always been a woman on the inside. She wasn’t ready to tell many people yet, but she felt like she had to tell me when we got together.” Ellie is putting an unnecessary amount of attention on stirring the tomato soup which is already perfectly combined. “I was fine - happy, actually, that she was a woman after all. It was fine that she wasn’t ready to tell people because I wasn’t ready to tell people either. But now she is ready.”
She looks defiantly at Zoey like Zoey is going to try to dissuade her or argue with her.
“Are you ready, Ellie?”
“I am. I’m scared, but I am. It’s so hard for me to say - anything. I just want us to be able to live our lives without inviting scrutiny. But she’s so happy. We’ve been buying her new clothes and makeup. She was too scared to go herself at first, but then she got so fed up with me picking the wrong nail polish colors.”
Ellie’s always been hopeless with nail polish. “I’ll take her shopping. Or better yet - Deanna will.” Deanna can identify which colors will look good one anyone. It’s like a superpower. “Remember how she picked all the flowers for my wedding?”
Ellie smiles tremulously. She clearly appreciates the support, but the nail polish obviously isn’t her primary concern here. “We’ll be telling everyone else in the family soon. Before Thanksgiving or else we’ll just have to skip Thanksgiving, which I’m not opposed to. But it would probably be best to get it over with.”
Here’s Ellie’s real worry.
“Did dad ever tell you about Marina the Monk?” Zoey asks.
Ellie shakes her head.
“Marina the Monk lived in the early middle ages, I think. Her father went to live in a monastery and she followed him, changed her name to Marinos and lived as a monk - as a man.” Zoey tries to remember the details. “A woman nearby accused Marinos of fathering her baby, which was obviously impossible, but she raised the baby anyone. Or maybe he? Anyway, no one found out the secret until Marinos died and he’s a saint now! Dad thought that was a great story.”
“I think there’s a pretty big difference between a medieval saint and my spouse,” says Ellie drily.
Zoey would never say this to Ellie, but sometimes she can be defeatist about their father.
But, intentionally or not, Zoey has been imitating him, telling stories about obscure historical figures instead of responding to what Ellie is really saying.
“I’m happy for you and for - Vic,” she tries. “Charlie will be too. We’ll help with mom and dad if we can.”
Before Ellie can respond, Isobel dashes in, babbling something about soup. Ellie scoops her up before she can reach the stove.
Vic trails after looking sheepish. “Sorry, Connect Four is only so interesting compared to the lure of lunch.”
Zoey really looks at Vic. She - she, she reminds herself, is wearing an androgynous top. Her hair has grown out a little and her nails are painted lavender. It's not a bad color, but she bets Deanna could do better. “I’ve always wanted more sisters,”Zoey says. That’s true. Brothers-in-law have seemed like a bad deal since Liz got married. Vic smiles back, and it’s like they are meeting for the very first time.