Not Like Other Girls, Part 8

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Emily Berrigan is a 23 year old transwoman, who hasn't seen her twin Jordan in six years. Not since she told her parents the truth about herself and they threw her out. Her older sister is getting married and wants Emily there - as a bridesmaid. Will sparks fly?
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In this chapter, Jordan meets Kira's parents, and Kira gets to spend Thanksgiving with Jordan's family. Please let me know if there's interest in my continuing the story.
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“Please tell me you won’t do it again,” Kira said, as Jordan merged onto I-65, headed to their parents for Thanksgiving.

Jordan resolved not to sigh again. ‘It’ meant a repeat of the disastrous first meeting they had had with Kira’s parents two weeks ago.
----

Jordan walked into the restaurant, and saw Kira sitting at a table in the blue dress with the floral print they loved her in. Next to her sat a woman, an older, gaunt Kira, and a man with Kira’s eyes - and a scowl. Kira stood up and kissed their cheek, the man grimacing. “Hey pookie.”

What do I say here, they thought. Do I use ‘sweetie’ or ‘Kira?’ “Hey, sweetie,” and the woman gave a small cryptic smile. They stuck out their hand. “Hi, I’m Jordan Nehlen, it’s very nice to meet both of you.”

The woman looked at Jordan’s hand and then shook lightly, her manicured fingers in sharp contrast to Jordan’s slabs of meat. “Diane Harper.”

The man gripped tightly, then loosened his grip, clearly unsure. “Mitch Harper. Kira’s told us all about you,” an accusation offered.

Jordan smiled, trying to remember what Em told them to do (‘no teeth, and looser than that’). “She’s told me everything about you too.” Then, they cursed themself for saying that. “I mean, just how much she loves you guys.” Kira gave a little smile and a head shake. “Um, yeah, I’ve never been here. This looks great.” They had stared at the menu before walking in, resolving to order something that didn’t drip.

Kira’s mother threw her a lifeline. “Kiki, sorry Kira,” and she gave a little grin that reminded Jordan of their mother, “tells us you played soccer at Purdue.”

“Yeah, I mean yes.”

Kira jumped in. “They’re being modest. They started all four years.”

Her mother nodded, “That’s very impressive.”

“And they got a scholarship.”

Her father gave a slight smile. “That must’ve made your parents happy.”

Jordan laughed a little. “Yeah, I don’t think they minded not writing tuition checks.”

The man stopped smiling. “What position?”

“Center midfielder, sir.”

“What does that mean in English?” Feeling his daughter’s glare, he softened. “When the kids played, they mostly just seemed to swarm the ball.”

“Are you a basketball fan, sir?” They knew he was, specifically Indiana University, Purdue’s archrival. Not that he went there. Her father said, ‘mmm hmmm,’ and they continued, “it’s sort of like a point guard. Pass the ball, set up the offense, that sort of thing.”

“So, no scoring,” met with a hissed ‘daddy.’ “What? I’m asking a question.”

Jordan played with their napkin in their lap. “No, but I made sure everyone else scored. My dad used to call it being ‘Smart. Keith Smart.’” This was a lie, although they liked the turn of phrase. Their father never mentioned IU basketball, except to talk about players from Chicago. Jordan had spent lunch Googling IU basketball of the 1980s, specifically point guards. “Kira said you're a CFO of an insurance company.”

“And she tells me that you work in construction.”

“Daddy,” Kira hissed, nudging Jordan's leg under the table. “They are a project manager, not a laborer.”

“Mitch,” her mother groaned. “So, Jordan, what does a project manager do?”

“I'm responsible for supervising the workers and the sub...contractors on my floors to make sure work is completed correctly, on-time and on-budget, and for acting as liaison between them and the architect and the developer.” They smiled, happy for a minute to be in their element.

“That sounds like a lot of responsibilities,” the mom said. “And you're only 23.”

“I know. Jordan took me to the site once and they told me how important they were.”

Her father’s face didn't move at all. “Why would they give a 23 year old that much responsibility?”

“Umm, sir?”

“I wouldn't give someone fresh out of college that much responsibility. Why would they? Should I be worrying that a building I'm in will collapse?”

“There is the architect and the building inspector, sir, so I think you're safe, heh heh,” they tried to joke, “plus I interned for two summers and my family is in the business…”

“That's right, Kiki told me that. You're from outside of Chicago, right?”

Unsure where this was leading, “Yessir, Dekalb. It's about 60 miles west of the loop.”

“I know where it is,” which got a glare from Kira.

“I'm sorry. Most people don't.”

“I do,” which led to an exasperated ‘Mitch’ from her mother. He smiled, “So we've established I'm more geographically aware than most people. Why are you here instead of there?”

“I came to really like Indiana when I was in college.”

Now the smile was gone. “You don't like Illinois? Your family?”

Feeling nervous, “I like my family.”

“So much so that you moved four hours away from them.”

Kira looked at him. “Last time I checked, Grandma and Grandpa were in Omaha, dad.”

“Not the same, Kiki. And I didn't have a family business to step into.”

“There were plenty of things you could have done there, Mitch,” then, turning to Jordan, “why didn't you go into your family business?”

Because they're misogynistic assholes who would only want me in the trailer. “Well, it's my grandfather, my dad and his three brothers and the pie is only so big…”

Her father. “So you have no ambition to grow the pie? That's terrific.”

“I do, sir.”

“You just said that you didn't.”

Kira, “That's not what they said.”

“What does ‘the pie is only so big’ mean to you?”

Jordan, interrupting. “I was trying to say that the family business is mostly strip malls and industrial parks, one and two story buildings, and here I'm on a 35 story building, and so I'm learning a whole new skill set that I can hopefully use to become bigger and better.” Jordan turned to Kira’s mother, “Kira told me that you're a school psychologist in a middle school. What's that like?”

Kira's mother smiled and rolled her eyes. “Stressful.”

“How come?”

“Mom says middle schoolers are the hardest of all,” Kira laughed.

Jordan remembered middle school, the way John Harper and his friends suddenly ignored them, that bitch Kayla and her friends, “I could see that,” Jordan smiled, trying to show only their top teeth.

“What was your issue with middle school?” Kira’s father said.

Jordan, suddenly feeling sweaty and clammy simultaneously. “I don't know. I just remember the way middle school was is all.” They looked at Kira, whose face evinced sympathy, or was it pity?

Kira's mother jumped in. “Mitch. I know you don't listen to me,” and she smiled slightly, “but middle school is very challenging for all kids, especially girls, with puberty and all. Plus I'm sure Jordan had extra challenges…”

“Mom! God,” Kira snapped.
---
That was the highlight of the dinner, as far as Jordan could determine. They had been planning to go to the Pacers game, before Kira had sprung dinner on them. If they had gone to the Pacers game, they'd have met Kira after and none of what happened would have. The discussion about politics (Stef’s ‘I don't care if he brings up Q Anon shit. I don't care if he's actually Q, Jor…’) wouldn't have happened. They remembered the butter stain smack in the middle of their shirt. Butter. They had specifically ordered food without sauce and...butter did it and, without looking, Jordan gripped the wheel.

“Jor?” Kira’s voice snapped them out of it. “Everything OK?”

“Huh? Yeah,” and they released their grip on the wheel. “Yeah.”

“You looked like you were going to snap the wheel.”

Eyes still on the road, “I’m nervous.”

Kira laughed, “I’m the one who’s supposed to be nervous. This is your family.”

Exactly why I’m nervous, Jordan thought. “I just don’t want…”

Kira held up her hand. “I told you. We’re done with that. It happened.” It had led to ten tense days between them, where Kira never stayed over. “You just said it won’t happen again, so what are you nervous about?”

“My family’s fucked up.”

“Everyone’s family is fucked up, Jor.” Out of the corner of their eye, they watched Kira smooth out imaginary wrinkles in her dress.

“Yeah, mine is especially fucked up.”

“Stef isn’t fucked up.”

Jordan laughed, “Nah, she’s just a bitch.”

A laughing, “That’s awful. I love your sister. I can’t wait to meet her and Jared.”

Jordan relaxed a little. “She can’t wait either. I think she’s more excited to see you than me.”

“I doubt that.”

“The rest of them…”

“Just treat them like my dad. If someone’s being an asshole, let them be an asshole, Jor.”

This was not the first time she had said that since everything happened, as if they weren’t capable of controlling themself. They felt their pulse start quickening and focused on the road, telling themself silently, over and over, that she meant well. “I will.”

Kira smiled, “Just try.” Thanks for the vote of confidence, they thought.
---
Three hours, as they pulled into the driveway, Jordan took a deep breath. It was time. They knew it was time. They had been together six, almost seven, months. They loved her. She loved them, having said it first. And Mom had been on them to do this, not that she'd ever come to Indianapolis. No, they had to come here. For Thanksgiving. “Don’t be nervous.”

Kira touched their leg. “I'm excited, pookie. Are you excited?”

“Uh huh,” wondering what awaited them. At least, it was Wednesday. Only their parents and Stef and Jared, who wouldn't be in until later, Stef pleading ‘work and I can only handle so much.’

Kira smiled, “That doesn't sound excited to me.”

Jordan looked at the house. Same as it ever was. “I'm something…”

Kira kissed them. “I'm excited to meet them.” Yeah, they thought, let's see on Friday how you feel. Kira got out of the car and straightened her dress, a red dress with a print of butterflies (‘my spirit animal,’ Em said when Kira showed it to her) that was a couple of inches above her knees. She picked up a gift wrapped box from the seat.

“You look amazing.”

“Thank you,” she smiled. “So do you,” the committee of three having decided on a blue and white shirt for them, without their input.

They walked up and Jordan put their hand on the door. “Last chance.”

“Oh stop it, pookie.”

Jordan opened the door. “Hello?”

Their mother came in from the kitchen and gave them a hug. Her eyes flicked up and down Kira. “You must be Kira. It's so nice to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you.”

Kira smiled, taking in the woman in jeans and a blouse. “It's great to finally meet you too.” She looked around, “This is a beautiful home.”

A small smile. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for having me,” then, holding out the box, “this is for you.”

Their mom took the box. “Well, this is a nice surprise,” a glance at Jordan. With a fingernail under one edge, she quickly opened it without tearing the wrapping. Apparently, it was a bowl, all swoopy and modern. “This is lovely. Thank you,” and she kissed her on the cheek. “Let me give you the tour.”

They began walking through the house, Jordan unsure what to do with their hands until Kira took it. Jordan felt warmth as she intertwined her fingers with theirs. They watched Kira taking in all of the pictures on the wall, as their mother droned on. “This is Jordan’s room,” no hiccup on Jordan for once.

Kira walked around, looking at the trophies. “This is a lot of trophies, pookie.” Their mother flinched. “MVP, 2014. Toughest player, there’s a shock,” which got a laugh from their mother, “Did you ever not win a trophy?”

Jordan smiled. “I lost out on sportsmanship.”

Kira widened her eyes. “You? No!”

“Ha ha. Shut up.”

Their mother smiled. “Let’s continue the tour before some more of that Nehlen sportsmanship,” which got a look from Kira, “comes out.” They walked down the halls, Kira still looking at everything, and, “this is Stephanie’s room.”

Kira looked at it and smiled. “Yeah, this is Stef’s room.”

Their mother looked at them and then Kira, “I didn’t think you two had met.”

Kira smiling and looking at the Science Search award, “We haven’t. Just by phone. But you can get a real sense of someone by their voice. It’s an exercise they taught us in class.”

“Excuse me?” Jordan tensed up at their mother’s question. “An exercise? What class?”

“Kira’s a drama major…”

“Oh,” and she tensed.

“And an economics major,” Jordan offered, to Kira’s glare.

Kira, ignoring them both, “The point of the exercise is to encourage listening. That your ears tell you more than your eyes. Anyway, even if I didn’t see her name on the award, I would know this was her room because of what she chose to put up and stuff.”

Ignoring that, their mother continued down the hall, “You’ll be staying in here.” Emily’s old room. Not that you’d know, the walls and shelves having been stripped bare.

“Mom, you know we stay together in Indianapolis,” Jordan joked.

“And in Indianapolis, you do what you want. I imagine Kira’s parents would prefer this.”

Kira looked at Jordan and smiled, “This is fine, pookie.”

Their mother looked straight ahead, and said, “Why don’t we go downstairs and get something to drink? Are you hungry?”

Jordan looked at Kira, who kept smiling. “Um, we ate before we left, unless you are.”

Kira just offered. “I’m fine. But I could use a glass of water or something. Jordan’s very particular about people drinking in their car.”

Their mother rolled her eyes. “Like father...Mr. Nehlen is the same way.” Then turning to Jordan and pasting on a smile, “You know when you’re not there, we open a big bag of chips and a bottle of Coke in the car and drive around looking for bumps.”

“Mmm hmmm. That’s why I keep these with me,” and they held up their car keys.

“You can have something else. We have pop, wine, whatever you want.”

“Diet Coke would be great, please. Can I help you with anything, Mrs. Nehlen?” Kira offered.

Taken aback, “Thank you but it’s not necessary. Go sit. I’ll bring everything in.”

Jordan and Kira went to the living room. “Sorry,” Jordan mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.”

Their mother came in with two glasses of Diet Coke and a beer for Jordan. “Thanks ma.”

“Are you sure you don’t want something else, Kira?” Eyes flicking over the hem of Kira’s skirt and landing on her shoes.

“Really, I’m fine. Maybe I’ll have something more later. So, Jordan tells me you work as an administrator for a law firm. What’s that like?”

“Very, very busy. Stef doesn’t seem to think so, though. But most lawyers don’t.”

“Mom, Stef knows you work hard. She just works mad crazy hours.”

Their mom smiled, “It’s amazing how protective Jordan has become of her, their, sorry, sister. You would never have known that growing up. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“A brother. Jeremy. He’s 24.”

“Oh. What does he do for work?”

“Something with crypto.”

“What does something with crypto mean?”

Kira smiled. “Mining it. For a company in Florida. He sets up servers, I think.”

“Why didn’t you just say that?”

“Umm, because, to be honest, I don’t actually understand it fully. But my dad says he’s doing well at it.”

“Don’t you know?” She smiled at Jordan, “Jordan and Stephanie keep in touch. Don’t you?”

Kira kept smiling, “We do,” she lied. “I think it’s more like how Jordan and their father talk at a different level to each other.”

“Is your father in crypto then?” She took a sip, gulp, of her wine.

“No, he’s a CFO of an insurance company in Evansville.”

“Oh. Does your mother work?”

“Yes. She’s a school psychologist in a middle school.”

That got a genuine laugh. “God bless her. That’s certainly fertile ground for a psychologist, I would imagine. I remember the kids in middle school. Steffie was fine. Jordan had challenges…”

Jordan looked up at the ceiling. “Ma.”

“I don’t think that’s any surprise.”

“I was a mess, yup. There. Is everyone happy?”

Kira touched their knee and rubbed it. “Pookie, relax. We all know you’re the picture of mental health now.” Then, Kira leaned over and kissed them on the cheek. Jordan grinned and their mother grimaced which she then turned into a false smile.

“You know what, Kira? Now that I think about it, I could use some help.” Jordan shrugged and mouthed, ‘I don’t know’ as Kira got up.

---
An hour later, the door opened. “Hello?”

Jordan stood up. “Hey, Dad,” as they watched their father remove his dusty work shoes, it had been long decided that they were not allowed past the front door.

“Hey, champ!” And he gave them a half hug. “How was the drive up?”

“Not bad. Usual traffic.”

“How’s work?”

“Good. Busy,” before he could ask, “On time and on budget.”

“That’s what it’s supposed to be. You’re staying on top of your subs, right?”

A groaned, “Yes.”

“Because they will fu..scr..cheat you,” as he looked at Kira, “every chance they get.”

Jordan looked at Kira, who gave a minute push of her hand down, “I know. I keep on them,” they lied. Not that they didn’t, just not the way he would.

“Where’s your mom?” Just then, Jordan’s mom came out, carrying a tray of cheese and crackers. “Hey, honey,” and he gave her a kiss.

“Hello to you too. I see you’ve met Kira...”

Their dad broke into a grin. “Sorry about the shop talk. Doug Nehlen,” and he gave her a kiss and hug, which made their mother stiffen, “it is great to finally meet you. The champ has told me all about you.”

Kira laughed, and hooked her arm in theirs, “Oh, champ did, did they?” Jordan felt themself turn red. “They’ve told me everything about you,” and she pushed her hair behind her ear. “Everything they learned they learned from you.”

Bingo. His chest puffed out. “They learned everything they know. They didn’t learn everything I know.” Jordan thought they could hear their mother’s eyes roll.

“Kira was telling us how she could tell it was Steffie’s room just from talking to her,” she sneered.

Doug looked at their mom and then Kira. “You can tell a room from just talking to her?”

“Apparently, you learn more from listening than seeing or something.”

Doug laughed, “Then, my family is incredibly uneducated.” Which got a hissed ‘Doug’ and a look between Jordan and Kira. “Well, anyway, it’s great to finally meet you.”

Kira smiled sweetly. “You too, Mr. Nehlen. I was telling Mrs. Nehlen how much I appreciated you having me.”

Their father laughed. “It’s Doug. You’ll meet Mr. Nehlen tomorrow,” as his wife stood mute, fists clenching. “Hey champ, you wanna get in a little one-on-one before Stef and Jared get here?”

Kira gave a minute nod of her head. “That OK, sweetie?”

“Of course, pookie,” and a subtle glance back at Jordan’s mom.

Doug grinned. “Oh, pookie,” he sang. “Ready to lose?”

Jordan grinned. “I thought I was playing you. My sneakers are in the truck,” they said, as their father slipped on his Nikes.

Jordan stood on the driveway, waiting for their father and dribbling one of the six basketballs that were in the garage. “Ready, old man?” Out of the corner of their eye, they saw Kira and their mother standing on the steps, smirking.

Their father laughed. “Shoot for who gets the ball first?”

Jordan laughed. “You can go first, age before...talent,” and they tossed the ball to him. He started dribbling and Jordan blocked him, following his every move. To make up for his five inch height advantage, Jordan began bumping him.

He smiled. “You still can’t resist fouling me.”

Jordan rolled their eyes. “I don’t see any blood.” Kira rolled her eyes. “Come on. I know you’re getting old and fat, but you can do better than this.” He tried to move around them and they anticipated his every move.

“Not bad,” he said, “but not good either,” and he made a quick crossover and went for a jumper.

“Clang,” Jordan yelled, as the ball rimmed out and they grabbed the rebound. “You always were good with bricks.” They dribbled to the top of the key and began taunting, “So which way should I go? I’ll let you pick.”

“Talk is cheap, Jordan,” he said, with an edge in his voice. “I don’t need to choose.”

“Well, then,” and they made a quick move around him, taking a short jumper that went through, “Whoosh. Boom goes the dynamite,” a phrase from childhood that they remembered fondly from driveway games. Kira and their mother both stood on the steps, laughing.

Their father grabbed the ball and glared. “You got one. Congratulations.”

“Come on, come on,” Jordan started saying rapidly. “What did you always say? Less talking, more…” He made a move to the hoop, bumping them in the chest. They didn’t have much up top but they felt a stinging pain, as did their mother and Kira, who both winced. They wouldn’t show him that, though. Instead, they made a move to steal the ball and…

He ran right past them. “Come on, Jordan. Play angry, play stupid. Still can’t control it, can you?”

This went until Jordan won 11-9, the taunts and bumps getting more intense. They finished and their father said, “Good game,” offering his hand, and then, “I guess they went inside or something.” Jordan shrugged and they went in.

Their mother was on the couch. “Where’s Kira?”

Their mother looked at them, and said, with an edge, “She went upstairs to unpack. Go help her.”

“Huh?” Seeing the eyeroll and then the withering stare, they went upstairs to find Kira in Em’s old room. “Decided to unpack?” No response. “What?” Still no response. “Seriously, what?”

“What was that out there?”

“What was what?” Jordan was confused.

“Seriously? You’re seriously asking that?”

“We were playing basketball?” Kira stood there. “Tell me what I did.”

“This,” and she began bumping them and smacking their hand, “is basketball?”

Jordan laughed, “Are you trying to foul me?”

Kira looked at them. “And the nastiness?”

“It’s just trash talk. You’ve seen me play softball.”

Kira shook her head. “I wish I had filmed you.”

Jordan looked out the window. “I really don’t get it.”

“You two get violent with each other,” and she hung up her dress and Jordan thought of Emily, how she should be here doing that.

“No, we don’t. It’s just how we play.”

“It’s weird.”

“It’s us.”

Kira came over. “Jordan, we talked about this, please tell me we’re not going to be doing this all weekend.”

Jordan stared at the bare walls, and wondered what ‘this’ was. They opened their mouth to ask and stopped. No good could come of this. “I won’t.” They figured they could ask Stef later what she meant. “We really were just playing.”

Kira smiled. “Promise...champ?”

“Ha ha.”

“I like it,” she said, poking them, “My pookie champ. No, championship pookie. You're the pookiest pookie. Ronnie will love that.”

Jordan began poking back. “Not funny.”

Kira, poking harder, “It’s not supposed to be funny, pookiest.”

Jordan, “I’m not laughing.”

“That’s good,” Kira said, grabbing their waist, “because I’m not joking.” Then, “do you really promise?”

Jordan sighed, “Yes,” again resolving to figure out what they did wrong. “I’m sorry if we bothered you.” From downstairs, they heard a muffled, ‘you can’t bang into her like that,’ and ‘you need to stop, she likes this girl,’ and they winced. Jordan sat on the bed.

Kira plopped down next to them. “So this was Em’s room?”

Jordan sighed. “Don’t let them hear you.” Kira shook her head. “I told you we were fucked up.”

“They’re fucked up. Not you and Stef.”

Jordan smiled. “Really?”

“I’m actually being serious, pook. Your mom kept starting and stopping saying something.”

“About?”

Kira got up, picked up her underwear out of her bag, looked at the dresser and put them back in the bag. “I don't know, but it was mad weird.”

“It'll get better,” they offered, unsure of how.
---
The next afternoon, Kira stood before Jordan, in a green cowl neck sweater, white tiered maxi-skirt and ballet flats. She had applied light makeup and was wearing her hair down, after having played with it for fifteen minutes. “I look OK, right?” She was trying to cover her nerves. Trying.

Jordan, dressed in black pants and a blue striped shirt. “You look beautiful.”

“I’m gonna go ask Stef.”

Jordan laughed. “So, why did you ask me?”

Jordan put her hands around their waist, “Because if you said I didn’t, I’d know it was really bad,” and she booped them on the nose.
---
They drove with Stef and Jared to Uncle Kevin and Aunt Julie’s, Stef giving Kira the rundown on everyone, their kids and their peculiarities.

They got to the house and Jordan handed her the cakes he had been holding. Jared looked at Kira, smiling and said, “Showtime.”

Stef looked at him and laughed, “Let her form her own opinion.” Jordan noticed a glance pass between Kira and Jared, and they felt their blood pressure rise.

Jordan looked at Stef who shrugged slightly, then took Kira’s hand. “It won’t be that bad.”

Kira smiled, “I’m sure it will be fine.” One of us should be, thought Jordan.

They rang the doorbell, Aunt Julie getting upset whenever anyone walked in unannounced. She came to the door. “Hey, Aunt Julie, Happy Thanksgiving,” she said, handing her the cakes. “From Benninson’s, in Evanston.”

Julie put them on the hall table, and gave her a hug. “Congratulations,” and then took her hand. “Very nice, Jared,” she smiled.

He gave her a kiss. “Thanks.”

Then, Julie turned to Jordan and Kira. “Happy Thanksgiving,” pausing on the name and then deciding on no name at all, as she hugged them.

“Hey Aunt Julie, this is my girlfriend Kira. Kira, this is my aunt Julie Nehlen.”

Julie gave Stef a quick glance that she thought went unnoticed. “Well, it’s very nice to meet you Kira.” She made no move to exchange physical pleasantries.

Kira smiled nervously and stammered, “It’s nice to meet you too. Thank you for having me. You have a beautiful home.”

A lupine smile. “Well, aren’t you polite? Everyone is in the living room.”

The four walked into the living room. Grandpa Pete sat in Uncle Kevin’s chair, the remote next to him. Not that the TV would be on anything but football. “Hey, Grandpa,” Jordan said. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Happy Thanksgiving,” eyes on the TV.

“This is my girlfriend Kira Harper. This is my Grandpa Peter.”

Their grandfather looked at her and gave a smile. “Very nice to meet you.” Jordan imagined what he was thinking and then stopped. “How’s work?”

“Busy. The ironworkers are almost done.”

“Good. You still under budget?” Jordan was surprised he remembered, and said, ‘yessir.’ “Good. That’s what the client remembers. On time and under budget. Do that and you’ll be fine. Don’t and you’re dragging buckets of nails around.”

Just then, Uncle Rob came over. “Hey, Jordan,” and he offered a smile and a hug.

“Hey Uncle Rob. How’s everything going?”

“Great, terrific,” then, grinning, “since Jordan has no manners, I’m Rob Nehlen.”

Kira laughed, “They’re a work in progress,” Grandpa wincing on ‘they.’ “Kira Harper. I have heard so much about you.”

“All lies. I hear you’re an actress.”

Uncle Kevin came over, all false bonhomie. “Where did you hear that,” then, “I’m Kevin Nehlen. Welcome to my,” a glance offered at his brother, “house.”

Kira smiled. “Um, thank you for having me. I told your wife it’s a beautiful house.”

“Thanks. I did a lot of the work myself.”

“Well, it’s terrific. I like the skylights. Makes the room bright.”

Kevin smiled, then smirked at Jordan. “How’s assistant managing treating you?”

Jordan grimaced, then smiled. “I was telling Grandpa that the ironworkers are almost done. You know that’s a big deal on a 35 story building. That, the plumbing. It’s a whole other thing from a one or two story project.”

Rob gave a laugh, while Kevin glared and Kira moved over to Stef. “Must be nice. Clock your 9 to 5. Get your paycheck, and not have to worry about anything but your corner. Anyway, there’s beer on the porch, if you’re interested.” And he walked away.

Rob looked at him, then them. “He’s an asshole.”

“Uh huh.”

“Seriously. I’ve heard about how well you’re doing.”

Jordan looked at him. “From who?”

He smiled conspiratorially. “Your architect is friends with my college roommate. He says you’re someone he’d trust running a project.”

“Wow. Seriously?”

Rob, smiling, “Uh huh,” then, “way to tell Kev to go fuck himself.”

Jordan, somewhere between proud and ashamed, “Thanks,” then, in a lower voice, “Em says your building is amazing.”

A smiled, “I like it. She’s really great. She and Liam had a great time together.”

Jordan sadly, “I heard. I mean, that’s great. Did he decide what he’s doing yet?” He watched as Liam stood bored next to Mikey and PJ, Uncle Pete’s son.

Rob laughed, “We’re still waiting on a few acceptances, but Em definitely tried to sway him with that party.”

Jordan laughed, as Kira stood next to Stef talking to Cat. “I heard.”

Just then, their father came over, “Hey guys, whatcha talking about?”

“Work and stuff,” Jordan said.

Uncle Rob smiled, “I was telling Jordan that I've heard that they're doing a great job.”

Dad tensed, “From who?”

Rob shook his head, “Not that it matters, the architect is friends with Bryan.” Blank stare. “My roommate. For three years. Dated Laura's friend.”

“Oh.”

“Well, anyway, he said he'd trust Jordan running a project. And he does big stuff.”

A fake smile, then, “Sh... They learned from the best. Right, champ?”

“Yeah, right. I’m gonna go get a beer.”

They stood on the porch. An hour or so from now, after everyone had said their ‘hellos’ and got a couple in them, it would be time for touch football. Touch. If someone slamming you as hard as they could constituted ‘touch.’ Not that they didn’t give as good as they got, but they remembered Emily hiding...and how embarrassed they were about that. They walked into the yard and took out their phone and dialed.

“Hey Em. Happy Thanksgiving!”

“Hey, Jordy. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

A laugh. “I can hear it in your voice. What’s wrong?”

“Eh, we’re at Uncle Kevin and Aunt Julie.” They looked inside and saw Kira and Stef talking to Cat and Kelly. “I’m sorry…”

Em, confused. “For what?”

“I dunno. I was thinking about the football games and the stuff I said…”

Em, amused. “When?”

“When we were kids.”

A laugh, “When we were what eight? Seriously?”

“I dunno. I acted like an asshole and I’m sorry…”

A laugh. “Come on,” then, “sorry. I appreciate it, Jordy. I do. Even if you didn’t know any better, it’s the thought that counts.”

“Thanks.”

“How’s Keek doing?”

They gave a little laugh. “Umm, she is being a bitch to her.”

“Oh, fuck that. And him?”

“He’s fine, I guess. I mean, I’m glad she’s gotten to meet Stef and Jared in person. I wish you were here.”

A sighed, “Yeah, well…”

“I didn’t mean…”

“And I didn’t take it that way….”

Jordan watched as Kaia and the other kids put on their shoes, which meant that they’d be outside soon enough. “What are you doing today?”

“One of my friends from acting class is having Thanksgiving. I’m in the middle of cooking.”

A laugh. “So, food poisoning.”

An indignant, “Hey, I can cook...I mean I’m making a side dish. Well, mashed sweet potatoes. You can’t really fuck those up.”

“I bet if you try really hard…”

She laughed. “Keek is really nervous about this. She told me.”

“Yeah.”

“So, please be extra nice to her.”

“When am I not nice to her?”

A sighed, “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah. Oh shit, Aunt Julie is opening the door for Kaia and them.”

“I love you Jordy. Just try, K?”

“I love you, too.”

They hung up and went back inside. “Hey, sweetie,” they said, putting their arm around Kira’s waist, while Aunt Julie winced and Aunt Jeannie smiled.

Kira, “Hey, pook.” Another wince. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. I was just outside. Call from work,” they lied.

Kira smiled, “Jordan gets constant calls. It’s kinda annoying, but with responsibility comes phone calls.”

With that, Aunt Julie walked off, Jeannie giving her a wink. Stef smiled, “Way to go, Ki,” then, turning, “how’s Em?”

Jordan, taking a sip of beer, “How did you know?”

Stef rolled her eyes. “You have the world’s worst poker face, Jordy,” which made Kira giggle.

Jordan looked down, then up. “She’s good. Says hi. She’s cooking.”

Stef laughed. “Who are the victims?”

Kira, laughing, “You two are mean.”

“Ummm, sweetie, she fucked up those slice and bake cookies.”

Stef smiled, “I didn’t know you could both undercook and burn cookies, but Em could. Jordy got sick.”

Kira looked up. “Oh, poor Jordy. Do you want Nurse Kira to take care of you?”

Stef mock-retched. “A little much, Ki…”

Kira, looking at Jordan who felt their face flush, “Not until they turn purple,” then, “I’m just teasing you. Besides, if she got you sick, my nursing would kill you.”

Jordan, attempting to steer the conversation on course, “How are you doing?”

Kira, looking at Stef, “Well, they’re definitely something alright.”

“I told you,” they said, as they felt themselves get anxious. They took a breath, silently talking themselves down.

“They’re fine, pook. I love Rob and Jeannie.”

Stef smiled, “They’re the most normal. Not that that isn’t being the world’s second tallest midget.”

Jared came over. “Well, it’s officially Thanskgiving. Mikey and Trev asked if I wanted to ‘take a walk’ with them.” Kira looked at him. “Go outside and get high.”

“Oh…”

He laughed, “Every year, they ask. Every year I say I’m good. The Parade, the Cowboys and them. That’s Thanksgiving to me.”

Kira laughed, “Jeremy wouldn’t let me come when I was younger but then expected me not to rat them out.”

Stef laughed. “Did you?”

“I wouldn’t, but I held it over them all night, which is much more fun.”

Out of the corner of their eye, they saw Dad and everyone around Grandpa. “Wonder what they’re talking about.”

Stef looked at them. “Don’t. I don’t. Who cares? As far as I’m concerned, Thanksgiving is the four of us, Mom and Dad, maybe Uncle Rob and them.”

Jordan looked at her, amazed at how she could be that calm, that apathetic. The crowd broke up and they watched as Dad went for a drink, Scotch. If he was drinking Scotch, it was going to be a bad night. They went over, “Hey dad.”

“Hey champ,” and he put down the bottle. They saw no ice in the glass.

“That good, huh?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not your problem.”

“I know. I just…”

“I can handle myself. Don’t huddle in the corner with Stef and Jared all day.”

“We were just talking.”

“You talk to them all the time. Talk to your cousins too. You don’t see them that much.”

They make no effort, they thought. Still, they walked over to Cousin Kevin, Kira following. “Hey Kev.”

With barely covered apathy. “Oh hey...Jordan.”

“Happy Thanksgiving.”

Kevin looked around the room. “Yeah, sure, Happy Thanksgiving.” He looked Kira up and down, and they felt Kira grip their hand tightly.

Kira smiled, her best fake smile. “I’m Kira Harper, Jordan’s,” the name snapped like a weapon, “girlfriend. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Kevin smirked. “Then, it’s very nice to meet you too.” Turning to Jordan, “How’s your floor coming along?”

Jordan, feeling Kira grip their hand. “It’s going great. Thanks for asking. How’s the strip mall? It’s like a seven unit place, right?”

Kevin, the smirk disappearing, “Ten.” He turned to Kira, “I run the project.”

Kira, meeting his glare with a sweet smile, “That must be a lot of responsibility. I’m sure it’ll be great.”

Kevin, snickering, “Well, maybe someday they’ll give Jordan a second floor and she, sorry they, can understand. Anyway, I’m going to get a beer,” and he walked off, not asking if they wanted anything.

Kira looked at them. “He is an asshole.”

Jordan, “I know.”

“Do not let them get to you.”

Jordan, sighing, “I won’t.”

“You’ll be running a thirty story project and they’ll still be building fake McDonald’s.”

Jordan, inexplicably, “They do more than that.”

Kira, looking at him, “I was just trying to make a point.”

“I know,” then, “just don’t let them hear you.”

Kira softened. “Please just remember they don’t matter. Just me.”

Jordan, smiling, “Just you what?”

“Only I matter,” she brushed some imaginary lint off of herself.

“Only you?”

“Yup, just me.”

“What about me?”

“More than them, not as much as me.”

Jordan went to poke them, then stopped. “We’ll see about that.”

“OK, we’ll see that I matter and you matter less,” then, seriously, “do not let them get to you. Please. For me.”

---
An hour and a half later, everyone started heading to the yard, having put on sneakers.

Jared looked at Stef, “Oh boy,” he said.

Kira, “What?”

Stef, “The annual football game. Jared’s still not quite used to it.”

He turned to Kira and laughed, “You'll see.”

Kira, eyes narrowed, “You’re playing, pook?”

Jordan, incredulous, “Yeah, it's tradition.”

Kira turned to Stef, “Do any girls play?”

“Cat and Kelly,” she snickered, “I did until I was like 13. If you wanna play, play.”

Kira, laughing, “Not in this outfit. Are you sure you wanna play, pook?”

Jordan got annoyed, but took a breath. “It'll be fine. It's fun.”

They went outside and picked teams, Jordan ending up with Jared, Liam, Uncle Rob, Mikey and PJ. “I'll quarterback,” Uncle Rob said, laughing. “I don't have the speed I used to.” Then, he assigned positions, with Jordan as a hybrid running back/receiver.

Kaia did the coin toss, while her grandmother took her picture, and then ran off the field.

Jordan lined up against Trev, her arms hanging by her side. “Still playing, huh?” Trev sneered, contempt in his eyes.

Jordan, “As long as I can kick your ass, I'll play.”

The ball was snapped and Jordan threw a forearm shiver at Trev’s chest, so that Liam could get through. When he was taken down, their father, on the other team, looked at them and shook his head.

Trev lined up against them, “That's why you're just an assistant manager. Cheap shit.”

Kev overhead and offered, “Ass Man. You're just an ass man.”

From the corner of their eye, they could see Kira watching. “Doesn't bother your girlfriend,” which got a snarled, ‘fuck you,’ and Trev and Kev switching places. Jordan ran a 10 yard crossing pattern. The ball hit their hands as Kev threw his shoulder into their chest, knocking them to the ground. From the ground, they heard Uncle Rob, “Are you Ok, Jordan?”

A sneered, “Is baby ok” from Uncle Pete.

Jordan pulled themself up. “You fuck like that? No wonder your girlfriend dumped you.” They heard Liam laugh and Kev turn to him, “You want your ass kicked too?”

Liam looked at him, “Yeah, whatever, Kev.”

Ten minutes, and several cheap shots later, Jordan lined up. “When are you going to quit playing, Molly?” Uncle Pete. They ignored him. “You heard me Molly. When the fuck are you going to stop?” Their cousins began singing, ‘Molly, Molly,’ while Dad looked mortified. They saw Kira huddled with Stef, gesturing.

Jordan glared at him. Uncle Rob snapped the ball, and Jordan ran with him for a few steps, Pete bumping them the entire way. They stopped, took a couple of steps back and then blew past him, the ball landing comfortably in their hands for a touchdown. They spiked the ball, then ran to Uncle Pete, bumping him, “You gonna stop? You gonna stop?”

Their father came over and got between them. “I've got this, Pete.” Pulling Jordan aside, “What the hell was that?”

Jordan, their temper rising, “I scored. Isn't that the object of this game?”

“You know what the hell I'm talking about. What was that showboating?”

“Showboating? You can't handle that I beat your team.”

“That's enough!”

Jordan stood eye to eye, “Stop me. Otherwise, suckers walk.” They felt dissociated, like they were watching someone else. Someone else who was being watched by someone, Kira.

Two plays later, Trev threw a late hit at Jared, who had a bloody nose. “Fuck this. I'm out,” he said, getting up.

“Pussy,” he snickered.

Jordan, blood boiling, got in Trev's face and started pushing. Then, they saw Kira run in the house.

They ran into the house after her. They found her, tears in her eyes, furiously poking at her phone while their aunt and cousins watched, their joy at their humiliation evident. “Ki…”

“Leave me alone,” she snapped.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting an Uber. Then going to the airport. Just send my stuff to me.”

“Come on, why?”

“Why? Why?” Her laugh brittle, almost maniacal. “Did you see yourself? Hear yourself? No, obviously not. But I'm done.” Then, turning to Aunt Julie, “Can I have my coat please?” Jordan would swear that they saw a smile on their aunt's face as she gave it over.

Stef came over. “I'll drive you.” Jordan looked at her and she glared at them.

“No.”

“Yeah. Your dad will lose his...mind if you pay Thanksgiving surge prices.” She turned to Jared, “keys,” and, with his free hand, the other holding a tissue to his nose, he tossed them underhand. Stef grabbed them out of the air and stopped Jordan with their hand.

The two women left, and Jordan felt everyone's eyes on them. They grabbed their coat and walked outside, humiliated. They walked four blocks to the elementary school, where they sat on a swing under the cold gray sky, the sun rapidly falling, and cried. They loved Kira and now she was gone. Gone and they would be stuck with everyone mocking them.

They heard a voice. “Jordan.” Mom. Fuck,

Without looking, “Go away.”

“Jordan.”

“I wasn't humiliated enough,” they said, turning to gave her, “you wanted to come and tell me awful I am, how I deserve this. I know. I'm a piece of garbage. You win.”

She stood in front of them. “Jordan, no.”

Jordan, looking at their feet, at the dirt on their shoes. “No what?”

“You are not a piece of garbage.”

“Yeah, I am. Everyone hates me and now Kira hates me.”

She sat in the other swing and put her hand on their shoulder. “You are not a piece of garbage. I don't think you're a piece of garbage, and neither does your father.” Ignoring what they said about everyone else.

“Yeah, he does. Did you see him?”

She laughed a little. “I don't watch.”

“Well, Kira did and now she broke up with me. And she hates me and I love her. Sorry.”

“For what?”

“I know I disgust you. Sorry I'm not what you wanted?”

“Is that what you think?” They heard a catch in their voice. “That you disgust me?”

“It's true. And I don't care.” They almost mentioned Emmy. They got up and walked away from her.

“Jordan, stop. Please.”

“Just say what you wanna say and leave me alone.”

“You want me to say what I want to say?”

They took a deep breath. “Go ahead.”

“Fine, I will. Everyone in that house, except Rob and Jeannie, is an asshole.” Jordan stared at her. “You heard me. They're miserable assholes, all hovering around your grandfather like rats waiting for crumbs, and they make everyone else miserable. And you and your father let them.”

Jordan clenched their fists and then stopped themself. “What?”

“You let them. You let them let you feel like you're worthless and you shouldn't.”

“Really? You make feel like garbage. What? You don't want people stepping on your toes? Only you can deadname me, make feel like a freak. Like I said, you won. Go back and tell them that you finished the job,” and they walked away.

“Jordan, stop!”

“Just leave me alone.”

“No! Don't you get it?”

They turned around, “Get what?”

“You don't need to play their stupid games. You won.”

“I won what?”

“You won. Did any of them get a four year scholarship? No. Did any of them get a job by themselves, a job where they're respected? No. They all work for their grandfather. You're making it yourself. You won.”

“I still don't get it.” Confused by the lack of abuse. “Isn't Dad one of them?”

She gave a small smile. “I love your father and wish he never went to work for them. That's water under the bridge, we didn’t know any better. We're stuck. But you and Stef? You're doing it by yourselves, better than any of them. Nothing they say can take that away, do you not understand that?”

“They're assholes. Sorry, I know that you hate cursing.”

She smirked. “It's acceptable under the circumstances. I don’t understand a lot of things and you and I don't always see eye to eye, but I know one thing. Your father and I are proud…”

“No, he isn't.”

“He is.”

“No. You didn't hear him when Uncle Rob told me…”

“That Bryan heard how good you are? He told me. Don't look so surprised. Let me tell you one more thing. If you ever, ever come work for the company, I will be extremely disappointed in you. Stay as far away from this as you can. Make your life with Kira or whoever someplace else.”

“It's gonna be whoever, because Kira’s gone.”

“No, she isn't.”

“Umm, did you miss what happened?”

“She's pissed, no doubt about it.”

“I'm glad you think it's funny.”

“She's in a car with Stef.”

“And?”

“Your sister can be,” and she took a breath, “very persuasive.”

Jordan allowed themself a laugh. “That's a word.”

“She's going to be angry at you, very angry.”

“I know.

“But she loves you. You love her?” Jordan nodded. “Don't be a Nehlen.”

“Uh huh. Yeah, I love her. If you wanna go back to the house, I'll be,” whatever I'm going to be, they thought.

“I'd rather wait here with you.”

“You don't have to.”

“I want to. ”

They sat there quietly for fifteen minutes and started walking back, Jordan unsure of what their next move was going to be. They were two blocks away when a horn honked. They turned to see Kira and Stef in the car, Kira driving. Stef looked at them as she got out, “Get in. Get in and don’t speak.”

They looked at Kira, “Is it ok?” Kira's eyes were rimmed red and she nodded. They watched their mom and Stef walk away. “Are you ok to drive?”

“Get in.”

They got in, uncertain, and started to apologize, when Kira put up her hand. “I'm going to talk and you're just going to listen. Can you do that?” Jordan nodded, as they buckled their seatbelt. Kira pulled away from the curb. “I love you, Jordan,” and, before they could speak, “I love Indianapolis Jordan. The sweet, funny, smart Jordan. DeKalb Jordan is an asshole. Dekalb Jordan is an insecure, nasty asshole.”

In a quiet voice, “I know.”

“Excuse me?”

“I'm an asshole.”

“Keep going,” and she made a left, not that she knew where she was.

“I don't know why I let them get to me but they do and I shouldn't but I do. And I've acted like an asshole and I don't blame you for hating me and, if you want to leave, we'll go back to the house and get your stuff and I'll drive you wherever you want and I won't talk.”

“I don't wanna leave. I love you but I'm not going to put up with this anymore.” She made a quick turn and Jordan grabbed the door handle. She laughed, “Did you just grab the door handle?”

“I told you. I'm a terrible passenger.”

She looked at them. “You need to learn that sometimes I'm gonna drive.” They nodded. “Stef says that you feel like you need to beat them, for Emmy. Because they were cruel.”

They laughed. “You do know I played D-1 soccer, right? And you saw the trophies? I like winning.”

“I'm aware but they're something else.”

“I dunno.” They watched a strip mall Dad built go past, remembering the day he took them and let them carry nails, to the amusement of the laborers who were grateful for the break, even if the 8 year old couldn't lift the bucket six inches. “I guess. I told Em I was sorry before.”

“She told us.”

“You spoke to her?”

She laughed, “Stef put the full court press on me. What was your mom doing there?”

“She was there to comfort me, I think.”

“And?”

“She told me that they're proud of me. I don't think I believe her.”

“I'm proud. Stef and Jared are proud. Em’s proud.” Not mentioning their parents.

“That's what matters, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“You know what I mean. I love all of you. You still love me, right?”

An exasperated, “Yes. But this can't happen again. I know you're competitive but if there's another day like today, I'm gone.”

“I know.” They watched as Kira looked around. “Whatcha looking for?”

“How to get back to your aunt's.”

“Let's not.” They looked out the window at the empty streets, everyone already with family they guessed.

“What?”

“That's the last place I wanna go. I don't need that shit.” Kira took another quick turn and Jordan began quietly calming themself.

“Your family is there.”

“Who matters is here.”

A smile, “That's a little much.”

“I mean it. Let's just go somewhere, just the two of us. There's gotta be places open,” and they took out their phone. They found a place nearby. “Turn left up there.”

Kira stopped the car. “No. We're going back. Your mom and Stef are expecting us.”

“I'm going to be embarrassed.”

“No you won't.”

“You saw how they were.”

“But you don't care what they think, right?” A declaratory statement in the form of a question.

They did. They didn't want to listen to any of them. They knew they'd get massive piles of shit the minute they walked in. “No.”

They walked up to the house to find Liam on the phone. “Yeah, you were right. Yeah, gotta go. Uh huh, yeah, me too.” He put the phone back in his pocket.

Jordan, embarrassed, “Hey, Liam.”

He smiled, “You made me look bad.”

“How?”

“Em said you’d be back,” he grinned. “Now I owe her $10.”

“How fucked up is it in there?”

“The usual.”

They went to ask if anyone said anything, but stopped themself. “Who’s bombed already?”

“Cat, PJ’s girlfriend, Uncle Pete, grandpa….” The list recited with no affect, no surprise.

“You pick a school yet?”

Liam smiled. “I liked UCLA.”

Kira, grinning, “We heard.”

Liam, turning red, “It’s a good school.”

Kira, smiling again, “It is.”

Liam, now beet red but smiling, “Shut up. You barely know me.”

“Right, OK, sure, got it,” then turning to Jordan, “let’s go in and leave him to his studying.”

They walked in and found Jared and Stef talking to Aunt Maureen, who smirked and walked away. “You OK, Jared?”

Jared looked around the room. “I’ll survive. I think I’m done with football though.”

“Me too.” They went to get another beer. “Anyone want anything?”

They went to the porch and found Kev and Mikey by the cooler. “Excuse me,” and they grabbed two beers, reaching around Mikey.

Mikey looked at them. “Your dad was all pissed when you left.” They shrugged. “That was mad fucked up.” Another shrug. “You looked like your brother.” A deep breath and another shrug.

Kev glared at them and shrugged. “That’s all you have to say?”

Jordan just shrugged again and walked in, bumping into Grandma Dori. “Sorry.”

“I see you came back. You and your friend,” the word said with contempt, “made quite a scene.”

They looked at the woman in her late 70s, somehow shrinking in front of her. “Yeah, well, what can you do?”

“What’s her problem?”

Do not rise to the bait, they kept repeating to themselves. Do not rise to the bait. “No problem. Anyway, Happy Thanksgiving.”

They walked back to everyone, turning to Kira, “I really can’t convince you to go someplace else for dinner?”

Kira, slipping her arm into theirs, “I saw you. You’re doing great.”

“Seriously, Jor,” Stef said. “You are.” Then, turning to Kira, “Mind if I borrow Jordy for a second?”

They walked with her to a corner. Jordan looked at her. “I don’t know what you did, but thanks.”

“You’re welcome. You know she really loves you.”

“I really love her too.”

“But this shit can’t happen again,” her hands on their shoulders

“I know. I know. I’m trying.”

“I know you know. How are we going to make sure it doesn’t?”

“We?”

“Yeah, we. You, me and Emmy.”

“I’ll figure it out myself.”

“No, you won’t. You are going to listen to us.” Jordan raised their eyebrow. “You can have input,” she smiled.

“Gee, thanks. I just have to remember that they’re assholes.” Then, seriously, “What do I do about Dad though?”

“Jor, you’re you. He’s him. I’m gonna give you a relationship trick. Just nod your head and say, ‘uh huh.’”

“Do you do that with Jared?” They laughed.

“Duh.”

They looked over at Jared and Kira, talking and laughing. “Well, at least they like each other. Whaddya think they’re talking about?”

Stef shrugged. “Skiing. Country clubs. How fucked up we all are. Rich kid shit.”

They nodded and walked back over. Kira, grinning, “So tomorrow we’re going out with Stef and Jared and Jared’s cousins in Chicago.”

Jared grinned, “Me and all of my cousins go out every Friday after Thanksgiving to a bar, to decompress and shit.” Jordan looked around the room and then at Stef, who gave a small smile of slightly more comprehension.

“They won’t mind that we’re there?”

“Nah,” he laughed. “They love your sister.”

Jordan laughed, “Really. They must get really trashed.” This earned a punch in the shoulder from Stef. “Ow. Did you see that, sweetie?” Sweetie saw. Sweetie punched the other arm, saying ‘you deserve it.’ “Fine,” they smiled.

---

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Comments

Great new episode

Thank you

Anne Margarete

I Can't Give You A Kudos

joannebarbarella's picture

I would if I could and when the site is back to normal I will.

A well told story, yours to continue or wrap up.

Invariably, when we encounter interesting, likable, well rendered characters, we want to hear more of them, even into the happily-ever-after stage. But that can trap the author in a tale that becomes contrived, stale. I think there's a lot of material here on Big Closet that is “unfinished” simply because the author has told the tale they wanted, but founders in the closing.
You get to decide when you're done. Your readers will stick with you either way because you write well.

Sorry Jessica

Robertlouis's picture

Gremlins with BC have prevented me and I would presume others too from both commenting and giving kudos to this latest excellent chapter, which is just as charged, albeit in a different way, as last week’s instalment. What’s astonishing, of course, is that the mother of the twins, whose bitter denunciations of Emily have certainly not faded with time, leaps instantly to Jordan’s defence. That’s one seriously f*cked up woman. FtM seems somehow just about OK, unless it’s to do with the bizarre dynamics of a very bizarre family, but MtF is clearly beyond the pale.

But the Nehlens really put the Nea in Neanderthal. What a bunch of shits. I wonder how they vote.

☠️

Yay!

I'm so glad Stef got Kira to come back! They're such a cute couple. Another great chapter please continue. I had to remember to come back and comment because of the site issues.