We Interrupt this Transition

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Technical Difficulties, Please Stand By

Once inside the house, Sam kicked the front door closed with her foot and immediately sat Jimmy down on the couch in his living room. 

“Jimmy? What’s going on? What the hell was that?” 

Jimmy looked back up at Sam, a deer caught in the headlights. 

“I don’t know, Sam. But I think it was a mistake for me to skip breakfast.”

Sam peered through the blinds. The reporters were starting to clear, but not particularly quickly. 

Jimmy took his suit jacket off, along with his tie, and sat there, deep in thought. Too deep in thought. He was still. Silent. 

It took Sam snapping her fingers in front of Jimmy before Jimmy could even respond.

“Jimmy, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?” 

Jimmy frowned. “I don’t know. I’m… having technical difficulties.”

“Do you smell burnt toast?” 

“No…” said Jimmy. Then a pause. “Should I be?” 

Sam bit her lip and furrowed her brow. 

“I’m going to get you some coffee. Wait right there.” 

Sam dashed into the kitchen, taking out her phone, while she loaded the coffee pod. She dialed Sheri while she waited for the coffee to brew. 

“Hey, Sam,” Sheri answered. “Is everything alright?” 

“Sheri, how quickly can you get to Jimmy’s house?”

“What’s the address? Hold on, let me get a pen and paper.”

Sam quickly relayed the address, her voice cracking at one point. 

“Sam, what’s wrong? What happened?”

“It’s Jimmy,” Sam said. “I think he’s had a mental breakdown.”

“A mental breakdown?” 

“We were fielding questions from a reporter, and then Jimmy went on this weird spiel about how his brain didn’t work like a man’s brain, and then this reporter asked Jimmy if he was transgender, and of course he said no, and then he started to get this weird look in his eyes and he’s been… I’d say almost semi-catatonic since.” 

“What?”

“Hold on,” said Sam, and then called into the living room. 

“Jimmy!”

“...yeah, Sam?”

“How are you feeling?”

“...fine?”

“Are you still feeling weird?”

“...maybe? Am I having a mental crisis? Is this what a mental crisis feels like? What do you do for a crisis? It’s ice for swelling, heat for muscle soreness. What do you do for a crisis? Do you think I should lie down?”

“I think that would be a very good idea, Jimmy.”  

“...okay.” 

Sam turned her attention back to Sheri on the phone. 

“Yeah, he’s… not doing well.”

“I see,” Sheri said. “Right. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Have you and Jimmy had breakfast yet?” 

“No. I’m making him coffee now.” 

“Give him a banana or a protein bar or something. Do you have food in the house? I can pick up food. If Jimmy wants to invite some other friends over, that might be a good thing too.” 

“Right. We have food. So you’re coming?”

“As soon as I can.”

Sam started to tear up a little, despite herself. 

“Sheri, is Jimmy going to be okay? I’m scared.” 

“I don’t know, Sam. Until I get there, just, please, stand by him. Let him know he’s not alone and that help is coming.” Sheri paused. “We should at least let Daria and Erin know what’s going on. Actually, you know what? You stay with Jimmy, I’ll call them from the car.”

“Alright. I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Sam hung up the phone, grabbed a banana, and headed into the living room with the coffee. Jimmy was already lying on the couch, curled into a little ball, so Sam immediately placed the coffee and the banana on the coffee table, and sat down next to Jimmy and held him.

“Sam?”

“Yeah, Jimmy?”

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for pushing this project on you. I never should have… I just… I’m so stupid. I’m so, so, stupid.”

“Yeah, well…” said Sam, reassuringly. “That’s alright. We work in television. It’s an incredibly stupid industry.”

Jimmy had to laugh. 

***

Sheri grabbed her purse, slipped on a nice dress, and put on some sandals - no time for the full makeup press today. She headed to her car.

“Garden Auto,” she said to the hands-free car interface, “Call Daria Bryant.” 

“Calling Lane Bryant, Plus Size Clothing For Women,” the car unhelpfully chirped. 

Sheri sighed, pressed the button on her steering wheel to hang up, then pulled over and chose Daria’s name from the list herself. Once it started dialing, Sheri got back onto the road. 

“Hey Sheri,” said Daria. “This isn’t a good time.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what I’m calling about. Jimmy’s having some sort of a mental breakdown.” 

“Yeah, I’m well aware,” said Daria, exhausted. 

“You are?”

“One of the reporters was broadcasting live on the Internet. Now my phone’s ringing off the hook, and there’s a van from MTZ outside the offices right now waiting for an official statement. Christopher’s breathing over my shoulder worried about liability if it turns out we broke our director.” 

Sheri could hear Roen in the background - Daria must have the phone on speaker. 

“She doesn’t mean that literally,” said the lawyer. “I assure you that I am not invading Ms. Bryant’s personal space, nor breathing in any untoward way.” 

Daria sighed audibly into the phone. 

“Look, I’ll be there as soon as I can, but right now I need to hold down the fort and keep the press off Jimmy and Sam’s back. Seriously, as soon as it calms down, I’m going over to Jimmy’s place to try to figure out what the hell happened, but for right now I’m trying to come up with what the hell to say to the press.” 

Sheri thought.

“I don’t suppose you could tell them that Jimmy got Montezuma’s revenge while doing location scouting in Mexico, and he really had to run to the bathroom?”

“Ha ha, no,” said Daria. Then a moment of silence. “Wait, do you think that would actually work?”

“We would have to couch it as speculation,” said Roen. “Not a statement of fact. As in ‘We suspect that Mr. Howard contracted food poisoning during location scouting. It is possible to attribute his answers and disorientation to a high fever, and his sudden departure might be due to urgent illness related business he had to attend to.’” 

“That… could actually work,” said Daria. 

“I was going to ask Pranav to head over anyway,” said Sheri. “Maybe we could ask him to show up in his lab coat and with a doctor’s bag? Really sell it?” 

“For all I know, he actually does have the runs, so yeah, call Pranav,” said Sheri. “I’ll call Erin, tell her to get down there as well. Once I’m done putting out the fires here, we’ll all meet at Jimmy’s place - we might as well get the whole team there together to figure out our next move.”

***

Over the next twenty minutes, Sam just started talking to Jimmy about anything but work, told him that Sheri and a few others were coming over, and eventually, Jimmy started calming down. He was sitting upright again, though periodically shaking a little bit. 

By the time that Sheri arrived, most of the reporters had cleared out, but not all of them, so Sheri sensibly pulled into the driveway and headed to the backyard, and knocked on the kitchen’s double-doors. Jimmy tried to get up, but Sam insisted that he stay right where he was and met Sheri in the kitchen. 

Hugs were exchanged, and then Sheri got straight to business. 

“Sam, how are you holding up?”

Sam laughed, darkly. “Better than Jimmy. But not by much.” 

“I can see that,” said Sheri. “Pranav, Erin, and Julia are headed over right now. Daria would be here but she’s dealing with the fallout from the press.” 

Sam sat down on one of the kitchen chairs, and hung her head.

“Oh god, the press. I don’t even want to think about that.”

“Then don’t. Daria’s running interference for right now, so you don’t have to worry about that. Tell you what, Sam, take a moment for yourself, too. Maybe make some breakfast, like a real breakfast? I can talk to Jimmy for a while, see what’s up?”

“Could you?” Sam pleaded. “Jimmy’s usually such a… such a rock, you know? And now it’s like… a complete collapse.” 

Sheri nodded, sadly. 

“That… can happen. When someone feels like… they have to be strong, and then the strength fails them, they kind of crumble all at once. The stone wall versus the tree that bends and gives in the wind.”

“Yeah, well, I’m trying to bend with this one, but I feel a little uprooted, you know?” 

“Need a hug?” asked Sheri.

“Do I ever…” said Sam. 

They hugged it out, then Sheri started to take charge. 

“So, Sam, start cooking some… whatever you have for breakfast. Try to be creative, get your mind off of Jimmy. I’m going to go into the living room, talk to him one on one for a bit. The others will be here shortly. Ask them to help you when they get here.” 

Sam nodded. 

“Sheri?”

“Yes?”

“If Jimmy needs me…”

“If Jimmy needs you, you’re right here.”

And with that, Sheri headed into the living room, and came face to face with Jimmy. 

“Hey, Jimmy. How are you holding up?” 

Jimmy covered his face in shame. 

“That bad, hunh?” said Sheri. 

Jimmy nodded. 

“It wouldn’t happen to be Montezuma’s Revenge, would it?”

Jimmy laughed a little, then shook his head. 

“No. I almost wish it was.” 

Sheri reached over and put a hand on Jimmy’s shoulder.

“Well, good news. I’m putting on my psychologist hat now. You’re not my friend, you’re my patient for the moment. So anything you say to me now, I will not repeat to anyone else. I’ll keep it with the strictest professional confidence. Do you want to go to another room, where there’s more privacy, maybe?”

Jimmy sighed. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I think that would be a good idea.” 

***

Jimmy and Sheri headed into Jimmy’s bedroom, where Jimmy turned on the overhead lights. Sheri turned on one of the lamps on Jimmy’s nightstand, and turned off the bright overhead lights. 

“Might help you relax more,” she explained. Sheri grabbed a small chair from Jimmy’s vanity, and sat. 

“You can lie down if you want, Jimmy,” she said, as she grabbed one of those little yellow notepads she always kept with her. 

Jimmy didn’t lie down, but headed to the bed, and positioned the pillows behind his back so that he could sit up. 

“Oh god,” said Jimmy. “I remember the notepads. You always bring out a new one when you start a new patient.”

“Yep. Congratulations, new patient,” said Sheri. “So, could you go ahead and tell me what happened this morning? Take your time. Own words. It’s me, you know I’m not going to judge.” 

“It’d be okay, if you did,” said Jimmy. “I’ve been incredibly stupid.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I just am. Like, why did I just keep my mouth running? I should have just left it at the first answer. I thought it was a very clever answer. I thought I explained it well.” 

“Would a stupid person come up with a clever answer?”

“A smart person would know to shut up after that.”

“So, what happened?”

Jimmy sighed deeply.

“This reporter asked me how I viewed gender roles or something. I don’t remember the exact question. And I… like, I answered honestly. I think they’re stupid. I’ve always thought they’re stupid. Arbitrary. And I just started speaking off the top of my head, and everyone started looking at me like I was a Martian or something. Like I was growing antennae as they watched.”

“What did you say?”

“Well, I was talking about how… sometimes I feel like that sometimes I think my brain would have an easier time if I had to deal with women’s problems than with men’s problems, despite the fact that A) men objectively have easier problems, and B) I’m a man, so how would I even know what the hell I’m talking about? And of course they looked at me like I said something insane, because I did.”

“Mmm,” said Sheri, letting Jimmy continue. 

“Then I started rambling about stoicism and dating and… I don’t know, I started stream-of-consciousness rambling, and started getting nervous for some reason and… tried to make it relatable, tried to charm them…”

“You tried to blow smoke up their ass?” 

“In a sense, yeah. And they weren’t buying it. And then one of them asked if I considered myself to be transgender, and I said, ‘no, of course not’, because, like I would know if I’m transgender, right? Like you just, know, and then I thought, wait a minute, what if I was trans and I didn’t even know it? Like… you said you didn’t know until your forties. And I got so… so… fucking scared.” 

“Why would that scare you?” 

“Because… I couldn’t dismiss the idea out of hand. Like, I couldn’t like… like I thought I’d know if I was trans, and then I found myself thinking, wait, do I really know if I’m not trans? And now I’m like, well, wait, if I wasn’t trans, I’d for sure know I wasn’t trans. And there I am, like, wondering what the hell is going on in my own mind, and I wasn’t sure if I was doubting myself because maybe there’s something there, or maybe it was because I’m hanging around so many trans women? You, and Daria, and Erin, and… am I just picking up the flavor of your transness… like a mushroom in a beef stew?”

Despite her professionalism, Sheri snickered. 

“Sorry. Well, I can tell you - the mushroom-stew theory of rapid onset gender dysphoria has been fully debunked. You don’t pick up being trans via osmosis. Nor is transness a social contagion, nor can you be peer pressured into it. Nor can you get it by sitting on a toilet seat after a trans woman has used it.”

“Well, that’s one less thing to worry about,” said Jimmy. 

“Let me ask you something, Jimmy,” said Sheri, “You remember back when we first met, you said that… you said ‘Woman Up!’ was Sam’s idea. Did… did Sam really come up with the idea, or did you?”

Jimmy took a deep breath.

“No, it was Sam’s idea. But… I think I’ve been egging her on every step of the way. Even when she wanted to stop, I convinced her to keep going. What I should have said - what I should have done was tell her it was too stupid, and then found another stupid idea. But I got… so excited about the trans reality show, like, as a joke at first, yeah, to see how far we could go over the boundaries of good taste, but then, it became serious, and I was like… I couldn’t let it go. I told myself it was because people were depending on me - that Erin needed her big break, Sam needed a hit, Daria needed to show people what it was like to be trans, Pranav needed redemption, you - and you’ll forgive me for saying this - you needed a friend or two.”

“I did. I do. And thank you, by the way. But… Jimmy, why did you want to be a part of this? What made you so gung ho about the idea?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Jimmy…” 

“No, I mean… just give me a second to get my thoughts in order.” 

Jimmy sighed, fidgeting nervously on the bed. 

“I think I wanted to see if it could be done. If… you could take a normal guy, and pay them to become a woman, was it… was it possible?”

“If it was possible, what would that mean?”

“Well… it’d mean, well, anyone could do it. Anyone who just, maybe wanted to try it out. They wouldn’t have to be trans to be a woman, they’d just… it’d just be a thing. A normal thing.” 

“And you think being a trans woman isn’t normal?” 

“No, I mean, you, and Erin, and Daria, and… all the people I’ve met and… they’re all normal people, it’s just…”

“Let me rephrase, then. If you were a trans woman, would you think of yourself as normal?” 

“I can’t be trans,” said Jimmy. “I’m a game show host. Who ever heard of a trans game show host?”

Sheri got up from the chair, headed over to the far side of the bed, and grabbed a throw pillow. She then walked over to Jimmy’s side of the bed, and hit him with it. 

“Hey! What was that for?”

“Erin. Erin is a trans game show host. A trans game show host that you hired specifically to host your game show.” 

Sheri sat back down on the chair, and sighed deeply. 

“Jimmy, I get you’re vulnerable right now, but don’t bullshit yourself when you know damn well that’s not the point. You do it again and you get another pummeling.” 

“Is pillow pummeling an approved treatment by the APA?”

“It’s a form of percussive therapy. Now - back to the question. If you, Jimmy, if you turned out to be trans, would you consider yourself not normal?”

Jimmy frowned, and brought his knees to his chest. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I would. Sorry. I know I shouldn’t.”

“Forget what you should think, we’re not talking about ‘should.’ There is no ‘should’ here. There are no expectations. There is no script here, Jimmy. You can’t get your line wrong, or miss your cue, or step over your mark. You don’t have to keep up the act. Not here, not now.”

“That's all I know. All I’ve ever known,” said Jimmy. “Even way back in school, I knew I had to keep up the act to just keep from being picked on. And then when I started working, I was just so good at it, at being… Jimmy Howard, that Jamie Horowitz sort of… disappeared.”

Sheri nodded, scooted the chair closer to the bed, and once again, put her hand on Jimmy’s shoulder.  

“So, let’s go back to the question that started this whole mess. The big one. The one that sent you spiraling.”

Jimmy looked into Sheri’s eyes.

“Do you consider yourself transgender? Or, because it’s practically the same thing, do you think you would be happier if you were a woman?” 

Jimmy didn’t answer right away. He sat there, thinking it over in his head. 

“God. Now that is the million dollar question, isn’t it? Can I phone a friend?”

“Sure,” said Sheri, and made a little telephone with her hand, and put it playfully to her ear. “We’ve got your friend Sheri on the line. You’ve got thirty seconds, go.” 

Jimmy laughed, and held up his own thumb-and-pinkie phone. 

“Sheri, I’m on ‘Who Wants to Have An Existential Crisis?’, and I’m facing the final question. Would I be happier if I was a woman?”

“Ooh, jeez, I don’t know… that’s a hard one.” said Sheri. “What are the choices?”

“Uh, A) Yes, and B) No.”

“So you’ve already used your 50/50, hunh?” 

“Fraid so.” 

“Well, I can’t tell you what the answer is. But… here’s what I think. I think if the answer was a clear no, the question would be a lot easier for you to answer.”

“Yeah, I think so too, Sheri. Thanks.”

“Good luck, Jimmy. Click,” she said, hanging up the mock phone. 

Jimmy leaned back and sighed, finally relaxed. 

“I’m remembering something I read,” he said. “About how cisgender men don’t think about what it would be like to be women. Not often. Not really. Like, maybe idly. But not… like, super frequently. And I’ve been thinking a lot about what it would be like to be a woman. I thought it was because I was doing research for the show. Hell, maybe I was doing research for the show because it gave me an excuse to think about myself as a woman without feeling like it was wrong for me to do so.”

“Did your thoughts about being a woman start with this project?” 

“I think you’ve already figured out the answer to that one, Sheri. You know I’ve got unrequited feelings for Sam, and I often thought to myself that we’d be perfect for each other, if only I was a lesbian.”

Jimmy thought back to his childhood. 

“I had a lot of crushes on lesbians, actually. My first celebrity crush as a child was on Ellen DeGeneres, for crying out loud. When I started asking women out, I got told ‘Sorry, I’m a lesbian’ a lot. Which I thought - oh, they’re just trying to let me down easy. But no, they did want to hang out with me. One time when I crashed a sorority party, I hit on this girl and got rejected and invited to watch ‘Xena: Warrior Princess’ with her and her girlfriend. Even Larissa - the only woman I ever had a real long-term relationship with - was bisexual. Is that a trans thing?” 

“That’s kind of a trans thing,” admitted Sheri. “Not universal, of course. Of course, we’re getting a little off topic.”

Jimmy put his face in his hands and slowly dragged them across his face, stretching out his skin in a slow burn.  

“Yeah, yeah. I know. I need to answer the question. Am I a trans woman?” 

Sheri offered her hand in support, and Jimmy took it. 

“And I think I am,” said Jimmy. “Final answer.” 

***

By this time, Erin and Julia had arrived, and they were helping Sam with breakfast. Julia was cutting up some peppers, and Erin was digging around in their pantry for some good spices. She emerged from the pantry with some paprika and some garlic salt.

“Jimmy really keeps his pantry well stocked, doesn’t he?” Erin pointed out. 

“He does. He likes to cook. You remember when we had the  girls' night out. Next morning, I was too hung over to think, he even went so far as to make me beans on toast with an egg for breakfast. It was very sweet,” said Sam, flipping over the last of the scrambled eggs. She placed them carefully on a plate, then put a couple of paper towels over them to keep them warm until Jimmy got back. 

Julia immediately took over the skillet from Sam, frying up the peppers, some onion, and some ham chunks.

Erin put the spices down on the table. 

“Sam, you can sit down if you want to. Julia and I have it from here.” 

Julia pointed to the coffee machine. 

“Sam, do you want me to make you some coffee? Or how about tea?” Julia said. “Fancy a cuppa?” she continued, in an appalling approximation of an English accent.  

It was enough to get Sam to laugh a little. “Yeah,” said Sam. “Could you do me a favor and use one of the Yorkshire Gold tea bags? They’re in the top cabinet in the tin that looks like a British phone booth.” 

Julia couldn’t quite reach, so Erin stepped over and grabbed it and handed it to her wife. 

“Thank you, honey,” Julia said. 

Erin gave her a smooch on the cheek. 

“God, you two… you’re incredibly cute together, you know that?” said Sam. “The way you look out for each other. And love each other and… ugh. What am I doing to myself?” 

“You’re freaking out,” said Erin. “Because your best friend and platonic life partner is going through a crisis.” 

Julia nodded. “If you hadn’t told me you were gay, Sam, I honestly would have thought you and Jimmy were married. I mean, obviously you’re not, but your platonic friendship is really intense, you know?” 

“He’s just always been there for me. And I’ve been there for him. And we bring out the best in each other. The creativity, the… when Jimmy says I’m a genius, I kind of want to believe him, you know? And he’s so kind, and sweet, and he’ll say the most brilliant thing you’ve ever heard and the very next sentence the dumbest possible thing, and it breaks my heart because I know he’s got a thing for me and I can’t reciprocate it and now he’s completely fallen apart.”

Sam looked up, horrified.

“Oh god, what if this is all my fault? What if it’s a broken heart, and he just couldn’t take it anymore and I’ve driven him to despair because…”

“Sam, I’m gonna stop you there,” said Julia. “Jimmy’s a grown man, not a hopeless poet from the Regency period.” 

“I don’t know, Julia,” said Erin. “Defiant? Melancholy? Ooh, maybe he’s been haunted by a secret guilt this whole time? That’d be Byronic, wouldn’t it?” 

The doorbell rang. 

“I’ll get it,” Sam said, getting up. She opened the door to see Pranav there, in a lab coat and carrying a doctor’s bag.

“Hey, Sam. Daria said that Jimmy had food poisoning?” 

“Er. No. You should come in, Erin and Julia are here, Sheri’s in the bedroom talking to Jimmy. We’ll try to fill you in as best we can. We think Jimmy had a mental breakdown.” 

“Oh good,” said Pranav. 

Sam looked at Pranav oddly. 

“Well, not good, obviously. It’s just that I really didn’t want to have to ask him to check his stools for blood or ask how frequently he’s been urinating. Right,” said Pranav, stepping in, greeting Erin and Julia. 

He placed his doctor’s bag on the table with a clink, then opened it, and took out two six packs of Corona, and a bottle of Pepto Bismol - the entire contents of the bag. 

Sam, Erin, and Julia looked at Pranav. 

“Well, obviously we’re not going to need the Pepto,” explained Pranav. 

***

Back in his bedroom, Jimmy was finally coming to terms with his revelation. 

“So, what does this all mean?” asked Jimmy. “What do I do now? Like, the only other celebrities I know who transitioned publicly are Elliot Page and Caitlyn Jenner. Jenner’s an asshole, and Page is a guy.”

“There’s also Suzy-slash-Eddie Izzard,” Sheri pointed out. 

“Really?” Jimmy said. “Isn’t that the way? It’s always the ones you least suspect.” 

Sheri tilted her head and smiled. Jimmy was joking. Which meant he was starting to feel like himself again.

“Well, here’s the honest truth. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. And not until you’re ready to. Though I do recommend you tell your close friends. Support’s a huge thing.” 

“So, I don’t have to like, come up with a name, or switch my pronouns or anything?”

“Not until you’re ready to. The only thing that changed is that now you know something about yourself you didn’t when you woke up this morning.” 

“I mean, I did sort of freak out on live TV.” 

“Daria’s covering for you, for now. Consider it a tomorrow problem.”

“What’s the ‘today problem’ then?” 

Sheri smiled, kindly. 

“The today problem is letting your friends, who are worried about you, know you’re going to be okay.”

“But I don’t know if I’m going to be okay,” said Jimmy, frowning.

“Then the other half of the today problem is letting your friends tell you that they’ll make sure you’re okay. C’mon. I smell something good,” said Sheri. 

“One second. I should get changed out of this stupid suit.” 

***

Sheri entered the kitchen first, and Sam immediately jumped up out of her chair. 

“Sheri! Is he alright?”

From the other room, Jimmy answered. “Hey, Sam. I’m alright now. Sheri was able to help me a lot.”

Jimmy stepped into the kitchen, now wearing sweatpants, a t-shirt, and some comfortable sneakers. Sam headed over and hugged him, eliciting a startled ‘oof!’ Soon afterwards, Erin and Julia joined in, making it a group hug, and soon Sheri too was dragged in by the group-hug gravitational well.  

From the kitchen table, Pranav gave Jimmy a dude-nod, which Jimmy returned, instinctually. 

“Hey, hey. I’m fine now. Really,” said Jimmy. He looked around. “Sam, did you make omelets?”

“Hunh,” said Sheri. “Apropos, now that I think about it.”  

“Yeah,” said Sam. “Erin and Julia helped. Want some?” 

“That’s really nice of you. Thank you,” said Jimmy. “God, I could really use some breakfast.”

“Then sit down. We made enough for everyone. With some leftovers,” said Erin. 

Sam handed Jimmy a fresh cup of coffee to replace the one in the living room which had long since gone cold. 

“Aw, Saaaam…” said Jimmy. “You’re spoiling me.” 

“I’m making you coffee, doofus,” Sam said. 

“And breakfast,” Jimmy replied. “So, uh, I kinda need to explain what happened this morning, and… just do me two favors?” 

“Sure thing,” said Erin. “What is it?”

“Can you all, just, sit down for a second, and, uh, not have any liquids in your mouth? This is the kind of news that leads to spit-takes,” Jimmy said. “Spit-takes and pratfalls.” 

Erin and Julia took a seat, as did Sheri, and the six of them were seated around the small kitchen table. 

“Well, um, I, um,” started Jimmy, who then cleared his throat. “I guess, what happened this morning is, I was… kind of confronted with asking myself a really hard question. A question about, well, why I was doing this project, why I’ve become so close with you all, why I… what I really want out of life and… well, sometimes the answers to those questions can be surprising. And uncomfortable.”

“Oh god,” said Julia, with realization. “I think I know where you’re going with this.”

“You do?” asked Jimmy. 

“Yeah. I’ve heard someone say something almost exactly like it once before.” Julia grabbed Erin’s hand. “And it’s great. It’s wonderful, even. Though I will admit, it was a lot to take in, at first.” 

“Really?” asked Erin. “When was that?” 

Julia rolled her eyes at her wife and cleared her throat, as if Erin was missing something obvious. Finally, the lightbulb in Erin’s head clicked on. 

“Oh!” said Erin. “Mazel Tov!”

“Wait,” said Sam. “Mazel what? What are we Tov-ing? I don’t understand.”

Jimmy took Sam’s hand, and held it. 

“Sam. I just realized I’m transgender. As Erin and Daria would say, my egg just hatched.”

“Oh.” said Sam, in shock. 

Pranav took out his cellphone, and made a phone call. 

“Hey, Chandra. Just leaving a message to let you know I turned out to be right about Jimmy. I guess that means you owe me dinner. Are you free this weekend?”

Everyone looked at Pranav. 

“Wait, what?” said Jimmy.

“It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out,” said Pranav. “Someone walks into my office asking me about transgender surgeries and they say they aren’t transgender themselves? Big neon flashing sign.”

“Why… didn’t you tell me?” said Jimmy.

Pranav stuck a fork into his omelet. “I thought you already knew.”
*** 

***