Chapter 25 November 6th 2025

“When I was a kid, my Dad drove us over here to the Mall sometimes on weekends,” Whit said to Grace as they passed the welcome to Carbondale sign.

Grace rolled her eyes, “Sarah, are you gonna tell me a ‘back in my day’ story?” Whit knew what she was doing, every time she called him Sarah a little hit of dopamine was released.

Whit frowned, “You just can’t understand, You’ve grown up in a world where everything is just a click away. We had to go out and find the world.”

They looked over at the Mall, looking sadder than it ever had. The Ross at the far end was bustling but the Mall itself had only a few cars. “Wow, it’s so hard to believe.”

“Can I have my donut now?” Grace asked in a fake childish voice.

Whit nodded, remembering that she negotiated for an iced coffee and vanilla cream donut. He pulled off into the dunkin donut across the street.

They had 30 minutes until the meeting, and sat down at a booth with their donuts and coffee. “I really shouldn’t be drinking this,” Whit said as he took a sip.

Grace took a bite of her donut, “Yeah me neither, oh well.” She took a sip of coffee. “I hate malls. My parents took me to the big one in St. Louis a few times as a kid. They bought me lame school clothes, it sucked.”

Whit laughed, “I’m telling you if you were alive in 1988 you would have loved the mall.”

Grace rolled her eyes, “I doubt it.”

Whit tilted his head and looked at the building across the highway. His eyes drifted far away. “It was a few days before my tenth birthday. My parents took me over there to the Mall. I’d just started this little collection of miniatures. I had a few little glass bottles, some collectable thimbles, and my Mom gave me a little mini cabinet thing to keep them in. We went through Waldenbooks, I looked at comic books. We walked through KB Toys. We threw pennies in the fountain. Then the real surprise. We went to Sears and rode the escalator and..”

“I’ve rode an escalator,” Grace said with a laugh.

“Yeah, well… Anyway, we were walking through the jewelry section and I was looking at all the sparkling stuff, and there was this cabinet of little pewter miniatures. See Mom and Dad, they were just window shoppers, we hardly ever bought anything, but I said, ‘One of those would be great for my collection. They said I could pick one out. I was so surprised.”

“What did you pick out?”

“A unicorn, my Dad was so annoyed,” Whit chuckled.

Grace laughed despite herself, “Oh my God Sarah, that is so sweet.”

Whit grimaced and looked at the older couple having coffee. They were around the same age as Lucy and him. They didn’t seem to notice that the young woman called him Sarah. They sat across from each other, both engrossed in their phones. Lucy would be on her phone if she were here.

Lucy had taken the whole thing surprisingly well. There was no more sneaking around and inventing stories. He explained that he was taking Grace to a group therapy meeting.

“You mean she is taking you to a group therapy session,” she said with a knowing grin. Still he knew his wife. She was annoyed. They spent the last night studying for the GED, and tonight they were going to Carbondale. She was feeling left out. They invited her, but Lucy wasn’t interested.

Whit looked over at his destination, “You’ve never really been here?” he asked and parked the Jeep against the curb.

“No, my friend drove me over here to Planned Parenthood where she got estrogen. We drove by this place but we didn’t go in,” Grace said as they crossed the street.

Whit and Grace walked into the Southern Illinois Pride Center. A converted storefront on the square. The glass windows were covered in large rainbow vinyl wraps.

Inside, the space was brighter and more colorful than Whit imagined. Every wall was splashed with colors, a wide variety of flags hung around the room. Near the door a bulletin board was plastered with flyers, HIV testing, drag show, community rummage sale, housing, even a local furry group.

A reception desk was only a few more steps in with welcome written on the front in rainbow letters. A woman with short gray hair looked up from behind the desk.

“Hey. Welcome, you folks here for the group meeting?”

Whit froze up, “Umm.”

“The trans group meeting is tonight?” Grace asked.

“That’s right, is this your first time here?” the lady asked.

“Yes,” Whit blurted out.

“Great, could you just sign our guestbook, if you have an email address you’d like to give we can stay in touch,” she said.

Whit tried to control his shaky hand as he wrote out his name and email. Grace chuckled, and took the pen.

“Right down the hall in the main room,” the woman pointed.

They followed a short hallway toward a multipurpose room where the sound of quiet conversation spilled out into the hall.

Whit paused at the doorway.

Inside, about eight people sat in a loose circle of folding chairs. Some were talking, some were scrolling on their phones. A young person with bright blue hair waved them in.

“Come on in,” they said.

Whit hesitated.

Grace nudged him gently with her elbow.

“You drove all the way here,” she whispered.

Whit took a breath and stepped inside. Several folding tables were pushed against the wall to make room for the circle of chairs. The walls themselves were filled with shelves of board games and art supplies.

The blue haired person stood up and greeted them, “Hey I’m Jax, welcome, there's a couple of empty chairs, we are about to start.”

Whit nodded and they took a chair, Grace tapped him on the shoulder and leaned close, “Hey, I’m actually nervous, I’m just hiding it better than you.” Whit smiled despite himself.

Jax sat down, “Good evening everyone, we have a few new faces tonight. Welcome!” they said in a bright and cheery tone.

“We’ll start off with introductions, say the name you’d like us to use here tonight, your pronouns, and if you can, why you’re with us. My name is Jax, they/them, and I’m the group coordinator here at Pride Center. I'm working towards becoming a licensed clinical social worker as a student at SIU.”

Jax nodded to the person beside them and introductions began to move around the circle. A few people spoke quickly.

“Hi, I’m Dani, she/her, just here to listen.”

“Tyler, he/him. Looking for support.”

Whit tried to pay attention, but the words blurred together, his heartbeat sounded louder than their words. He was coming up soon.

The next woman looked to be about his age, dressed like she had come straight from work in business casual. “Hi, I’m Sadie, she/her. My daughter came out last year. She’s fifteen and I’m trying to support her the best I can.”

Whit glanced over at Grace and saw she was turned sideways and looking down.

The older woman next to Whit looked like she was dressed for church Sunday morning, long floral dress, and hair tightly styled. “I’m Marlene, she/her. Started my transition last year at 50.”

There was an awkward pause then Whit realized he needed to speak, and had no idea what he was going to say. “I’m Darren, but most people call me Whit. I umm, oh he/him. I’m here because I’ve… I’m here to support my friend Grace.”

Grace’s look lingered a bit too long on Whit, then she said, “Hi, Grace she/her. Been transitioning for 3 years and I’m here to support my friend Whit.”

There were several chuckles around the room. Finally a quiet person in a big oversized hoodie, spoke, “Uh… Evan. they/them.”

Jax smiled and looked around the circle.

“Thank you everyone, really glad you could be here tonight. Just a reminder this is a safe space, we are here to share and listen. You never have to share more than you want to.

They leaned back and crossed their leg, then continued, “Like usual let's just start off with small wins this week, or maybe even something that just didn’t suck?”

There was another light chuckle. Then Tyler spoke out, “I finally got my name and marker changed at the DMV, it was actually pretty painless.”

Someone else talked about work going well, another person talked about being invited to their brother’s for Thanksgiving. Marlene mentioned finding some really great jeans at Good-will.

“Well Mamadani is going to be the next mayor of New York, so that’s pretty cool,” Evan said. There was agreement around the room, and the room vaguely discussed how messed up the country was, but didn’t dwell on it.

“Anyone else?” Jax asked.

Grace noticed Jax looking at her with an inviting smile, and spoke. “OK what the hell. My home was destroyed by a tornado, or something like a tornado, a couple weeks ago. Whit and his wife let me move in with them for a while because my family is insane, so that’s pretty awesome.”

There was a round of applause and Marlene patted Whit on the shoulder.

The room settled again after the last of the small wins. The energy shifted, things were about to get serious.

Jax nodded gently. “If anyone wants to share what’s been hard lately, or something you’re working through, the floor’s open.”

A pause.

Then someone across the circle started talking about work, about a supervisor who kept “forgetting” their pronouns. Another person talked about family, about not being invited to a holiday anymore. The words came slowly, uneven, but no one interrupted.

Whit barely heard most of it.

His attention kept drifting to the two women on either side of the circle.

Marlene sat upright, hands folded loosely in her lap. The long dress fit her perfectly, not in a flashy way, just comfortable. Her voice, when she had spoken earlier, had been soft but steady. There was a confidence in her, like she had already fought whatever battles had needed fighting and come out the other side of them.

She looked like she belonged here. Like she belonged anywhere.

Whit found himself thinking, She just looks normal.

Across from her sat the other woman.

Samantha.

Whit hadn’t caught her name at first, but someone had used it when they spoke to her earlier.

She sat slightly hunched, hands clasped tight together like she was holding onto something invisible. Her wig sat just a little off, the line at the front too sharp, the color not quite matching her eyebrows. When she shifted, it didn’t move quite right. Her voice, when she spoke briefly before, was deep and unsettling.

She looked tired.

Not just physically. Worn down in a way Whit recognized immediately.

Whit felt something uncomfortable twist in his stomach.

Two older trans women, but two completely different outcomes.

He glanced back at Marlene. Then back at Samantha.

How does that happen?

Was it money? Timing? Effort? Luck?

Or was it just… a coin flip.

Whit swallowed.

The conversation moved slowly around the circle, one person at a time. He barely tracked who was speaking anymore.

Then Jax looked toward Samantha.

“Samantha, do you want to share tonight?”

There was a small pause.

Samantha nodded, almost imperceptibly.

“Yeah,” she said, her voice quiet. “I guess I can.”

She didn’t look up as she spoke.

“The divorce is finalized, and I’m in my new apartment. This week I’ve just been thinking. Why did I wait so long? I waited a long time. Longer than I should have.”

A few people in the circle shifted slightly, listening.

“I told myself I’d deal with it when I retired,” she continued. “That I just needed to get through work, get through… everything else.”

She gave a small, humorless laugh.

Whit felt his chest tighten.

Samantha’s hands twisted together.

“You know, We’d been married for thirty-eight years.”

She paused.

“I..” She stopped to wipe a tear and Jax put an arm over her shoulder.

No one spoke.

“I wish I could go back, I’d…”

She shrugged slightly, like she was apologizing for it.

The room stayed still for a moment.

Whit stared at the floor.

Go back and do what?.

The question echoed in his head. Would you start earlier, would you never have done it?

He looked up again, almost without meaning to.

Marlene sat across the circle, listening, calm, present, steady.

Samantha sat a few chairs down, small, folded in on herself.

Whit felt like he was looking at two diverging roads at the same time.

They made the same decision, did the same thing.

His throat felt tight.

Is that what this is?, You either end up like her… or like her?

Whit looked down at his hands.

For the first time, the question didn’t feel abstract anymore.

It felt immediate.

And it felt like it wasn’t going to wait forever.