The ride home from the fireworks would be a short one, but time went on lazily. The colors of the night were still filling my memory, washing over my vision as I watched Sana sleeping. His head was on my chest as I held him in the car. He was tired now, and had fallen asleep against me just before the finale of the fireworks. He was so spent, that he didn't wake in the enormous noise of it. I'd carried him slowly and carefully up the stairs from the beach to the beach front afterwards, with Natsuko following behind with his wheelchair.

My plan was to take him to bed right when we got home. I'd dress him in a nightgown, nothing too difficult to put on. I'd brush his hair, and then gently tuck him in. I was thinking this, when my mom's cellphone rang, making me jump.

"Oh, oh, mom. Sana's sleeping. Here, I'll get it." Natsuko fumbled in the front seat for our mom's phone. She dug into her purse, finding it quickly. I opened my mouth to say that it'd be next to impossible to wake him right now, but she answered the phone just as fast.

She waited for a bit, listening to someone on the phone. In the mirror, I could see her face as she did. She started trying not to laugh, her hand going to her mouth.

"What?" I asked, quietly. It was obviously funny, what she was listening to.

"It's papa!" She whispered loudly, turning to me. My eyes widened, a twinge going up in my stomach, unexpected. My mom glanced at her and then back at the road. "Okay, okay. It's fine. Everything's fine. We were at the fireworks festival. We're coming back now."

"Ohh. Did he think something was wrong?" My mom asked, stopping at a stoplight.

"Yeah, he did. He thought we might be at the hospital, because no one was home. He asked if Sana is alright. He came home about an hour ago."

That made me pause. My hand smoothed down nothing on Sana's front, nervous. Jittery.

My mom made a tsking noise. "Ohh. No, no, we're fine. I'm sorry we made him worry. He's early, though. He wasn't supposed to come until tomorrow. If I'd have known, I'd have left a note."

I started to speak, but hesitated. "I'm glad he was-" No, that wasn't right. I swallowed a bit, thinking of my words. "I'm thankful he was worried about Sana. That means a lot to me."

"Of course he would be," my mom assured. "Oh, it makes so much sense. Where else would we be? Of course he'd come to that conclusion."

Natsuko was quiet again, listening to him talk on the phone. "You have some Red Lobster? Typical. There's leftovers in the fridge from dinner, though. Do you have cheese biscuits?"

I realized my hand was smoothing down Sana's styled bangs over and over. I stopped this, but decided to keep going. The festival was over anyway. I'd be taking down his hair pretty soon, and it soothed me to touch him. It probably was making him sleep better, too.

"Okay, good. Well, I can't talk now. Mom, Tetsu, and Sana will be home in about ten minutes. They're dropping me off at my house first... No, I can't stay over. What is it...? A wild west movie on TV? You do like those, don't you? No, I can't stay over and watch it. Ah, well... No, everyone's pretty tired. Maybe you and mom can watch it together. She misses you, you know."

He sounded so normal from what she was saying. Not at all like what I'd been thinking in my head. It made me a little ashamed. Him liking wild west movies, Red Lobster and cheese biscuits. He was my same old papa.

"Okay. Yeah, you watch it with her. Spend some time with her. She'll like it. Yeah. Okay, good night. See you soon. Bye bye."

She hung up and put the phone back in our mom's purse. Silence filled the car for a bit.

Silence filled my body, too. This familiarity of him. He didn't sound mad or upset. He was doing what he usually did, probably at the kitchen table now, eating Red Lobster and missing us. He'd just gotten off a long plane flight, and probably had stories to tell us. He'd complain for a long time about the airport and the uncomfortableness of the plane seat due to his larger frame. Typical papa things. He might have gifts for us.

He could be so kind. It struck me, this difference. He could be kind, but inside there was something there that I feared. Over the past couple of days, I'd been thinking about this, ever since I'd had that revelation when I'd been speaking to Natsuko on the phone.

Those nights when I was kid, when I'd heard him arguing gently with my mom about me. Seeing his uncomfortable face when I was dressed as Aurelia.

I paused, my eyes going wide.

We were rounding in on Natsuko's street. My hand left Sana's bangs, and found my thigh. It touched the cotton of the yukata I was wearing. My mouth parted. Before I could do anything else, panic set in, and I yelped like a dog who'd suddenly been struck.

"Ah- Te-chan?!" My mom gasped. I saw her eyes in the mirror, searching me.

"What was that?" Natsuko asked, swinging back to look at me.

My mouth went dumb. "Uh- uh... I can't..." My hand rushed over my clothed thigh more times, unsure what to do. "Papa doesn't know I like to dress like this! I'm wearing a kimono! My hair- my hair- I can't walk inside our house like this!"

"Oh no," my mom gasped. "You're right!"

"What? Tell papa you were dancing at the festival. Professionally. He won't be able to tell the difference." Natsuko had her head on straight, but our papa was smart, and would ask further questions.

My mom made a series of disagreeing sounds in her throat. "I would have told him about that. He can't know just yet. This is Tetsu's decision."

"I know that. Tetsu and I talked about that a long time ago. Hmm..." She paused for a second. "You're right, though. This would make it so that he can't tell papa when he wants to. What should we do?"

I had no idea. My hand traveled to Sana's belly, staying there. It was the most comforting thing I could do. Holding him tightly, it was calming me a little.

"I know what we can do," my mom said, slowing down now in front of Natsuko's house.

"What is it? We'd better do it fast, then, whatever it is." Natsuko made to open the car door.

To my surprise, my mom opened hers, too. She got out.

"Huh, what are you doing? Are you coming in?" Natsuko asked, opening hers.

"We all are," my mom said, startling me by opening the car door by my feet, initiating the beginning routine of getting Sana and I out of the car.

"We are?" I asked, my face not able to hide my wonder.

"You want to use the bathroom or something?" Natsuko asked, going along with the routine. Quicker than I could process this, she was at the trunk to get Sana's wheelchair out.

"No," my mom said. I started adjusting myself, preparing to wake Sana up. "We're coming inside so Te-chan can change into some of Haru's clothes."

I paused, my jaw dropping open.

"That's brilliant," Natsuko said from the direction of the open trunk. The clattering of Sana's wheelchair being brought out answered us. My mom was nodding in knowing way. She knew she was a genius.

Suddenly, I had the feeling of a little child wanting to hide behind his mom's legs. Scared, but there was a feeling of safety. Knowing she'd protect me, no matter what happened. Clinging to her, because she'd take care of any threat... Even if that threat was my own papa. She was taking care of me now, coming up with the perfect solution. It seemed so easy.

Still, as I gently shook Sana awake, guilt overcame my heart. His eyes opened lazily, and I smiled for him as turmoil went into my belly. Thinking about my papa's caring face, his desperation as he'd held Sana trying to get him some help in what seemed so long ago now. His standing up for me when I'd started crying, demanding water for me when I couldn't ask for it myself. Him demanding over and over that we get Sana the proper help he needed by transferring him to the hospital of his choice. Him saying he was proud of me for wanting to marry Sana, and telling me I needed to marry him as soon as possible in order to protect him.

My papa was absolutely accepting and loving of my relationship with Sana. He loved Sana. There was never a question or pressuring me to get married to a woman. My whole life, he hadn't questioned that I preferred to date men. I was attracted to women, but I only had romantic feelings for men. I never even had to explain that to him. He accepted it. So, why was he so strange about my wearing women's clothing? What was the difference? Did it go beyond a awkwardness about queerness in general, meaning something else? What did he really think? And as much as I wanted to ask that, his awkwardness about it made it seem impossible.

It was almost frustrating. Putting it in that perspective, it changed a lot in meaning, but it made it even more impossible to determine. The logic wasn't there for me. There was something missing that I couldn't figure out. Some puzzle piece lost, that made the picture incomplete. If he didn't care that I was bisexual, then why would he care that I'm non-binary? If I said I was non-binary, would it change his opinion about my dressing in women's clothes to perform? But, I hadn't always known I was non-binary. I hadn't figured out those were my feelings until I was a teenager, and even then, I hadn't had the words for it. My dressing that way for dance hadn't always been about being non-binary.

As I settled Sana into his wheelchair and made sure he was okay, my thinking shifted. Making me uncertain, and awkward myself. As we went up Natsuko's long driveway, listening to the sounds of the late August night, my perspective changed and I saw it in a different light. The puzzle piece I'd been missing was coming into focus, and it was the strangest thing I'd ever thought.

Maybe, my papa's awkwardness about my dressing in women's clothing for dance was never about queerness. Maybe, I'd framed it that way myself. I had no real answers. I couldn't ask him myself, so all I had were my own conclusions. And, I'd framed those conclusions in queerness, because that was my viewpoint in thinking. He had an entirely different viewpoint, one that I couldn't begin to guess at, because my viewpoint was so different from his.

If my dressing in women's clothing hadn't always been about satisfying a certain need in myself, then maybe his awkwardness about it wasn't about queerness, either. It seemed so simple when I thought about it that way.

But, if it wasn't about that, where was this fear coming from? If this had been his being awkward about my being bisexual or queer, then it made sense that it would make me be fearful that he was coming after my identity. He'd be coming after my entirety of myself, something so essential in me, rejecting who I was as a person and my very being. A rejection of his own child, about something that I couldn't change. But, if this wasn't about that, then what was it about?

The fact of the matter was, I wasn't going to get any answers from thinking about it. The only way to know was to ask him, and that was so scary that it made me want to stop in my tracks and go no further.

I brought Sana into Natsuko's house, and we passed Haru by in their living room. He was at his desk on his laptop, his glasses slipping down his nose in concentration. He looked at us and got up, following us down the hall to their master bedroom without any questions.

Some thirty minutes later, we entered my parents' house. I was dressed in a plain, dark blue men's yukata. Natsuko had brought up that it seemed festive enough, matching what my mom and Sana were wearing in tone. I'd washed off my makeup and taken off my wig carefully, brushed out my hair. It was a little sweaty, having been under my wig in the heat of the August night. I was quick, because I knew Sana was tired. He gave me perspective in this. Brought me back to the present. The fact of the matter was, I had to get him home and take him to bed. This was important, too, but so was he.

We quietly went toward my and Sana's bedroom now. My mom had agreed that things would go faster if she helped me get Sana out of his yukata, and I was grateful. But, as we passed the living room, my papa saw us. I was calmer now, strangely. Something about what I had concluded at Natsuko's house had done it. It calmed me much more than I thought it would. Somehow, there was a lot less fear there, upon seeing him.

He got up, folding his evening edition newspaper and put it on his chair. It was comforting seeing him there, where he usually was. He made his way over to us. He seemed pleased. He looked at each of us in turn, and gestured for us to wait.

"I have gifts," he said.

"Okay, make it quick," my mom said, watching him go for the stairs. "Sana is very tired. We want to put him to bed."

"I will, I will. They're just small things."

We waited for a couple of minutes, and the loudness of him coming down the stairs met our ears. In moments, he was holding out small packages to us. He handed one kindly to Sana, and gave us ours. The rustling of gift paper being unwrapped was the only sound for about a minute. He watched us proudly, absolutely puffing up in contentedness for having brought us things all the way from Norway. It was touching my heart, making relief there.

But, when I unwrapped mine, perhaps a not so pleasing look was on my face. I started laughing, unable to help myself. I held out the small gift in my hand to him. "What is this thing?"

He took the small, ugly doll from me and examined it as if seeing it for the first time. He handed it back, still amused. "It's a troll," he announced, as if knowing everything there was to know about it.

"Oh?" My mom came closer to see it. "What does it do?"

"Hmm. I'm not sure. But, I heard they're often in folk stories. You like folk stories like that, so I thought it might be appropriate." He was looking at me again. I realized he was trying to get my approval.

I let air out of my nose, my lips going into my mouth a bit. I held the small doll in my hands, really giving it a good look. It wasn't so bad. And, what he'd said about my liking folk stories? A memory of myself turning around to gaze at the audience as I held my hands out in offering as if for approval from them flooded my vision. He was front row center, giving me that awkward expression. I looked at him now, as he was giving me a version of that.

This gift. He knew I liked folk stories, traditional things. He'd went out of his way to buy me this, accepting that part of me. That part of me was so linked with my dressing in women's clothes, as Aurelia. Something that I thought he was so awkward about, and disapproved of. What did this mean now?

I held out my hands, and went towards him. He wrapped his arms around me, hugging me tight.

"I'm glad you're home. Thank you for the present," I said, really meaning it. His arms had that familiar, deeply comforting weight.

"You're welcome. I'm glad you like it."

"I love it."

I really meant it. I loved his gift. More so than the doll itself, I loved that he was trying. That meant more to me than anything else in the world.