Chapter 1: Harrold Mason
Heather flipped through the channels, putting a few seconds or two of attention to each, before moving on. She’d already cycled once and began a second pass hoping that some change in programming might grab her. The blips of audio and flash of images filled the living room where she sat next to her dad - unbothered by the teen’s bored search. He’d settled comfortably into a detective novel; wrapped in his own world that didn’t need to be cycled through. Glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, his eyes scanned each page at lightning speed, the flipping of pages almost as quick as Heather’s clicking. The dirty blonde blew a sigh and fell back against the couch with a soft thump. She’d settled on some ocean documentary; the narrator’s voice dispensing information about some fish or another. Heather turned her head to Harry.
“Dad, can I ask you something?”
Harry made a small sound. Something like a yes.
“Dad.” Heather knew he wasn’t actually listening with that response, “Ques-tion.”
She split the word apart slowly and a bit louder than before. Harry blinked a few times, looking up and taking off his glasses, before addressing her.
“Oh- sorry,” he said, “What’s the question?”
Heather toyed with the hem of her hoodie - oversized for comfortable weekend wear; her usual white vest stashed away for now - picking at some stray threads.
“I know it’s not super polite to ask about old stuff like, about you, from like a long time ago and stuff but,” she fumbled a bit but Harry didn’t mind, “is it okay if I do?”
Harry rubbed an eye; vision adjusting from having worn his readers. He’d talked to Heather about himself before. He’d needed to - there were just certain things you couldn’t keep from your kids - so she knew his story (somewhat). Talked about him and Jodie and shown her pictures of when they were in college. He’d never had the heart to get rid of those, even if on some days he hated the face he saw there, softer, different, yet still his. He smiled a bit at Heather.
“Sure, hon,” he allowed, “what’d you wanna ask?”
Heather looked Harry in the eye then, firm and sure once more.
“Why ‘Harrold’?”
“Huh-?”
“‘Harrold’ - I mean, who’s even called ‘Harrold’? You could have picked any name you wanted right? Why not something cool or like, I don’t know, a little less weird?”
Harry’s brows scrunched together as he held in a laugh, head shaking back and forth with mock disappointment.
“Oh, Heather, my sweet, silly daughter…” he said.
The blonde teen’s lips pulled tight and her arms crossed carefully. Harry’s demeanor was setting up for something really stupid and she could feel it.
“As I started my journey,” he began, tone dramatic, “I knew things about me would change… Things would happen to my body that I had always wanted. I would feel closer to who I really was… I would become me! It was absolutely amazing.”
The content of the drama caught Heather off-guard and her body language softened; easing a little and listening to Harry’s words. His gentle smile further disarmed her as he put his book down and slowly began to roll up his cardigan sleeve. Underneath, a healthy coat of dark hair topped the man’s skin. He passed his other hand over it; announcing his revelation clearly.
“Heather, I became Harry .”
The pun took a moment to set in. Heather locked eyes with her father, lips pulled into a grimace, and groaned loudly; head tilting back.
“Come on , Dad, are you for real?!”
Harry couldn’t contain himself and burst into laughter, his own head tilting back but with pure glee. Heather put her face in her hands to contain her laughter and the room filled with the Mason’s amusement. Harry could never let go of a good opportunity for a pun and, admittedly, his name hadn’t been chosen for this but he’d always kept the thought in mind… After a few beats, the pair’s laughing died down, a few chuckles rising now and again.
“That’s not the real reason though, no.” he finally admitted, “But, you know your old man can’t help but commit to a great pun.”
Heather’s eyes rolled, shifting focus back to the TV, waving her hand at Harry as if to push away the comment. A turtle lazily floated in the water on screen.
“Okay, Dad, why don’t you get back to reading now?”
Harry smirked, leaning further into the couch and crossing his legs, picked up his book and settled his glasses on his nose once more. He peered up at Heather - whose attention was to the TV - though heard her mumble under her breath.
“Harry…hairy…ugh.”
Another chuckled left Harry’s lips and when Heather shot him a look, he retreated into his novel with a smile.
Chapter 1 End.