THE TRUTH OF THE SOFT GREEN LIGHT

Jeffrey loved the way the soft green light rested against Toni’s sweat-misted torso. The result of an imperfect antique vase placed near the tiny window, discarded many years before inside the campus’s old garden shed. Much like the vase, nothing about their love was perfect. But they had never let their differences get in the way of their perfectly, imperfect union.

Jeffrey ran his fingers through Toni’s thick, straight black hair, now resting along the gentle slope of Toni’s shoulders. Toni normally wore it in a tightly wound bun under a sweat soaked, wide brimmed stetson while mowing lawns during the hot summer days. Toni wasn’t specifically ashamed of the hair but more-so wanted to be one of the guys. Being a landscaper was a very masculine job and Toni wasn’t exactly “masculine”.

Toni was named after Toni Morrison. Toni’s mom was a devout fan of the writer after reading her first novel shortly after it was published in 1970. So devout that she named her first-born after her. She was, in fact, an extremely devout person. But the brunt of her devotion was reserved for her Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Even so, she was very taken with poetry, though she couldn’t read a word of it without the help of her American-born, English-speaking cousin Jose.

Jeffrey on the other hand, was the quintessential pillar of masculinity. Jeffrey had two prized possessions: the love of his mother and his thoroughly sculpted abdomen. The latter being the result of a religious regimen of weight training he would perform every morning before rugby practice. The former the result of years of careful planning and flawless execution by an overbearing dictator. But Jeffrey was simple; he just saw it as love.

“Maybe we should tell our parents,” Toni said. Jeffrey looked mortified. “But what would they think? My mom would have a heart attack!” Jeffrey responded.

“Because I’m Mexican?” Toni asked in the usual gentle tone.

It wouldn’t be the first time Toni had experienced adversity. For Toni, the subject of ethnicity had become a constant source of disappointment in the human species. Even ordering a coffee at the local diner was a struggle. “We don’t have layaway, you know,” the man said over phlegm-coated coughs. Toni was never surprised.

“No, not that—well, yes that, and—“, Jeffrey could’t bring himself to say the words. He loved Toni. He loved Toni more than his abdomen and more than rugby and even more than his mom. At least he believed he did.

“Is it because of my job?” Toni implored.

“Can’t we just enjoy the moment?” Jeffrey asked, sweeping away a long strand of blond hair that had fallen across his sunburnt face. It wasn’t really a question. Maybe he didn’t love Toni more than his mom.

Jeffrey anxiously grabbed his pants from the dusty wooden floor, sticking a foot through one of the legs. Toni sighed.

“What about your mom? Doesn’t she yearn for you to find a nice Mexican boy?” They both laughed.

“Does love mean nothing to your mom?” Toni asked. Toni was a determined person. Or maybe it was that Toni was an optimist. Or maybe it was that Toni just couldn’t imagine life without Jeffrey. Only the soft green light knew.

Jeffrey thought about it. Sure, his mom understood love. She loved martinis at sunset and morning tea in the garden and their cocker spaniel, Reginald. But he wasn’t sure she would understand his love for Toni. Apparently her love had limits. Limits that he wasn’t willing to explore.

Toni’s mom knew love too. She loved the Bible and her husband’s homemade corn tortillas and early Sunday family dinners after church. Similar to Toni, she was determined. Determined to make sure her children had the best life they could. Something far beyond the struggles she endured to make it in this country she came to adore.

The late afternoon light slowly lowered its gaze, resting now on the growing space of the plywood floor between them. Toni always loved that soft green light. Toni saw it as a beacon of hope. A hope that Toni had always deeply believed Jeffrey shared as well. But, like the light, that hope was beginning to retreat. Toni’s heart ached.

“The ‘I’ — that’s funny… I never thought about that,” Jeffrey said, poking his head through the neck of his lightly soiled white undershirt.

“Pardon?”

“The spelling of your name. You know, with an ‘i’, That how it’s spelled if you’re a girl,” Jeffrey replied.

“I guess my mom didn’t realize that when she named me,” Toni replied.

“Hmm…weird,” Jeffrey said, not giving it another thought. “Same time tomorrow?” he asked.

“Sure, that would be fine.”

***