Steph checked her phone. Her discussion on the LGBTQA forum continued but still nobody could come up with the simple solution she needed. Apparently someone in a similar position to herself did not exist. But they must exist, so she continued to monitor the responses to her post, and she replied politely to anything well-meaning but way off base. Some came close, but she wished they’d stop telling her to go to the local group. There were six members, only one transperson, who attended on a good day. She sighed and left her phone on the side. Swearing to herself, she ran the hot water into the bowl, letting it agitate the washing up liquid.
Her mother, thank God, had a date. Nick and her mother glared at each other whenever they were in the same room.
She turned on the radio for company and sang along to “Perfect” by Pink.
Up in her room, Ellie performed a complicated filming procedure that meant nobody could even sneeze close to the door. It was another thank the Lord moment for Steph. Whilst they got along most of the time when they both suffered from PMS, like now, they were better off apart.
Steph eased her hands into the piping hot water, and wiped the first plate. “Pretty, pretty please...” she sang loudly and out of tune.
[Warning: The YouTube Video below isn't the radio edit]
Luke had spent the day trying to blow up the shed at the bottom of the garden. He now slumbered peacefully, full of dinner, in his bed. Yet again Steph thanked the almighty. No matter what she’d asked him to do today she’d been ignored. He’d done his own thing and buggered anyone else. She couldn’t have faced one more no.
“Don’t you ever feel...” She forgot about the radio edit and inserted the f word. Steph shuggled a glass and put it on the draining rack.
Jake... well Jake she was ready to bury and hold a funeral service over. He’d finally decided he should stay out of his mother’s way as whenever she spotted him she asked him to take the rubbish out. He should have done it yesterday. There was no way Steph was doing it for him this time. Well at least not until it started stinking and buzzing with flies.
Yick. Steph hated mashed potato pans. They were the worst thing to wash – ever. The radio had moved on to a song she didn’t know.
Nick she prayed for. She wasn’t usually a religious woman but tonight she she’d offer herself up on any available altar. For the first time Nick had left the house as a woman. A woman they still hadn’t given Steph a name for. A woman that had spent a fortune on makeup, clothes and shoes whilst Steph stood barefaced in an ill fitting bra and wearing secondhand clothes. Her shoes were nine years old. But she told herself the other woman needed to feel good, and that this meeting needed to be just right for Nick.
She put another plate in the draining rack.
The door opened. Her heart leapt so much she thought it might fall out of the chest cavity. She knew she’d been on edge but she hadn’t realised how much. “Mum?” No response. “Nick?” No response. Neither of them were due home yet.
She turned off the radio.
“Nick?” Still no response.
Ellie came into the kitchen. “Dad’s in the bathroom. I think she’s upset.” She picked up a tea towel. “I’ll finish the dishes.”
An offer from her teenager to do the dishes froze Steph for a moment before adrenaline kicked in and she became a superhero out to save her man… woman… whatever she found in their bathroom. She threw the dish cloth in the water, left the kitchen and ran up the stairs. She knocked on the bathroom door. “Nick?”
“I didn’t go. Well I did... but I didn’t go in there.” Nick’s voice cracked and it was all male. “God – I saw them.” When Nick was all woman, it moved a fifth of an octave higher. “Leave me alone.”
"Best Possible Taste" is very loosely based on real life events.