Author's note: Here it is, my first story here, originally started as a New Year's Contest entry, but as the story played out, I felt I'd be truncating it too much to get it to 5,000 words. Thanks for the encouragement and inspiration, getting me to move from reader to writer!
'Til You Make It
By Marissa Lynn
September 17
"Dammit! I can feel it right there, but, crap. Something's not right. I'm not right."
"Brian, look. Just take a break. You can get this. I keep telling you you're good. I'm not just blowing smoke up your- crap!," Nathan frustratedly realized mayo dripped from his sandwich onto his blue polo shirt while animatedly encouraging his friend. "Why'd I even buy this thing? It looks terrible on me?" he thought.
"It's just, I could really use this. It would be a huge break for me," Brian said.
"I know, I know. Look, this guy doesn't know what he's doing, either."
"No, you're doing fine, really," Brian said.
"Not me, I'm not the guy. This guy," Nathan said, pointing to the script pages. "I write, remember. It seems like this Colin doesn't know what he's doing. He's close enough to it that he feels like he does, but he's not there yet. And he knows it."
"So, he's covering it up. False bravado."
"More faking it 'til he makes it, but, yeah, you're in the ballpark."
"Dude! You're a lifesaver! That's it. I needed to pull back on him. Give me five minutes to look this over again, but then read it again with me?"
"Sure, sure. Glad to help you out, man," Nathan said with a smile that Brian returned, saying, "You're the best."
"I'm not, really," Nathan, adjusting his browline glasses, thought to himself. "But, you know, fake it 'til you make it, right?"
As Brian reread the script pages, he began to feel a growing confidence that he could nail the audition. An A24 movie. He might have a shot at this, thanks to Nathan.
"Always there for me and kinda attractive, dammit. You and Nathan couldn't, because you can't- stop it Brian. The script," his mind told him as he shoved those thoughts went back of his head, focusing on the character he wanted to play instead of the man he couldn't be.
December 31
"That really paid off. I have a real chance at this," Brian said, looking back to that day which led to the good audition and that callback last month that went just as well. "Nathan just gets me. We've known each other for a while, but even early on, it felt like we grew up together."
"Seems like a nice guy. He single?" Emma joked, knowing Nathan and his roommate, Jessica, the tall blonde, from their visits here to The Westby, a bar around the corner from Brian's apartment, as she got his beer.
"Last time I checked," he quipped.
"He cute?"
"Yeah, I suppose so," he said, trailing off the last word.
Emma looked at him with what could only be described as an empathetic smirk.
"What?" Brian asked.
Emma handed over the beer, "Look. I don't want to speak out of turn here, b-"
"But it's part of your charm," Brian said, returning the smirk.
"Touché," she replied. "But look, he's been a really nice guy every time he's been here. He's certainly attractive enough and he seems to like you. That's not a bad thing."
"No, but how would you know? He's never said anything to me," Brian said, his own brain telling him, "You've never said anything to Nate, either."
"Look, I can't do everything," Emma said, looking at him seriously in the quiet, pre-rush bar. "If I were a better actor, I'd be in your spot, but I'm really good at making drinks and I'm really good at reading people. And I'm telling you, that man's in love with you. The way he talks when you're not in the room, he sounds like me when I had a crush on Mike Lowenstein in high school."
"But did you do anything about it?"
"I did eventually and we dated for a while, but it didn't work out."
"And why's that?"
"Because he had an eye for Allison Gaffney in AP History, that's why. It's just as well, though. I dated his sister Claire in college. Much better deal all the way around."
Brian chuckled, saying, "Well, as long as it all worked out." He sipped at his beer before adding, "I just. I don't think that I can be the man he wants, you know?"
Emma wiped the bar clean. Setting the towel down, she put her hand reassuringly on his left arm.
"Look, whatever's inside your head right now, you're a good person. So's he. And from talking to him and seeing your face now, it's clear you both like each other. Whether you do something about it, that's up to you. You have to be comfortable with yourself enough to do it. But trust me, Brian Helton, no matter what, you could be what he'd love you to be."
"Maybe. Maybe you're right," Brian said, not fully believing it, but still, there was that glimmer of hope in there, that maybe that door could open.
"Not a bad idea for the New Year," he thought to himself. "Maybe trust yourself, trust him. Maybe Nate could love you for who you are, or at least until you get yourself there. Fake it 'til you make it."
Brian finished his beer, giving an extra tip for it since, technically, the place wasn't open for another 15 minutes. As he got up to leave, he said, "By the way, I know you're single and I know enough to know Jess might be your type. And she's single and queer." Upon seeing her surprised expression at the last part, he said, "Guess you don't know everything."
She flipped him off as they both laughed, wishing each other a happy new year. Brian stepped outside to walk to his apartment to get ready. He and Nate were going to hang out since neither one of them had any place else to be.
Meanwhile, Nathan was sitting in his living room, headphones on, playing Supertramp's Breakfast in America, odd juxtaposition for finishing a freelance piece about some upcoming hyperpop band, Nora Neon, for the local alternative weekly. It wasn't ideal, but his writing skills and flexibility kept enough money coming in between the articles, the transcription and bio work and even the occasional TV script co-write. Sure, a steady gig would be better, maybe even get the time to finish one of the screenplay ideas he'd started. But lately? It's been busy time.
Nathan had a tendency to zero in, especially when this close to getting an article finished. So there was a state of complete unawareness that Jess was trying to get Nathan's attention. He looked up and saw her mouthing, "Hey! Hey!" and gesturing.
Hitting the mute button and sliding the headphones up, Nathan looked at her as she said, "Welcome back to Earth."
"Sorry, I've almost got this finished and I want to get it sent to Jamal before I get myself ready to head over to Brian's."
"You know, you're still welcome to come with me to Gina's. Bring him over, you two would be welcome there."
Nathan's brain wasn't so engrossed in finishing work that he didn't catch that last part. "You two?"
"You know what I mean, although, now that you mention it."
Nathan rolled his eyes, saying, "Don't start, Jess."
"Look, I know he's a good friend, but you and I both know you wish it were more than that," she said."And I don't know for sure, but it really seems like he'd be up for it. I mean, how long has it been since he dated anyone? A year since, what was her name?"
"Holly, she was on the crew of that cable comedy, god, the one about the talent agency? 'Wanted', was it?"
"Yeah, her. She kinda sucked, not as bad as the show did. Not that it was Brian's fault."
"No, he was great. I wish he'd get to do comedy more," Nathan said.
Jess, looking like a sparkly '90s alternarock chick, even the choker looked glittery, grabbed her coat and sat down. "I can see that look. I know that look," she thought.
"I know you mean well, Jess, but it couldn't work out for, you know, reasons. I just want to finish this and head over to Brian's and chill. I just want to end this year relaxed and not overthinking, not thinking about anything really."
A sad look came across Jess' face, but she didn't push the topic. Switching gears, she asked, "I hesitate to ask, but you're wearing that?," gesturing at the infernal polo shirt/jeans combo. "I mean, you do have nicer things than that in your closet."
"I don't have the time. By the time I finish this," Nathan said gesturing at the laptop."I'll be easier to just head over there as I am right now."
"As you are? Okay, fine," Jess said, checking her phone. "Look, my ride's going to be here soon, so I need to head outside. I hope you have a good time. If you change your mind, just text me, okay?"
"And seriously," she said, looking intently at Nathan, "Maybe give Brian some credit. And give yourself some, too. Love ya'. Happy New Year." Giving him a peck on the cheek, she headed outside.
Slipping the headphones back on, Nathan went back to his writing, a bit on autopilot as Jess' words echoed in his head.
Maybe he should give Brian some credit."Give myself credit? I'm trying. I'm trying," Nathan thought.
It turned out that Nathan's piece on Nora Neon didn't need much more to finish and he got to Brian's on time.
"Hey, dude. I've got just about everything set up, even something for the midnight toast," Brian said as he opened his refrigerator, peering inside and looking to take something out. "All I need to do is do a little more work on the -crap, I thought I had the cheese I needed, but it's not here. Dammit."
Brian closed the fridge door, looking Nathan's way. "I gotta go to the market. Be back in a few," he said, jogging towards the door.
"He's always got it together," Nathan thought to himself. "Well, almost always. You know, maybe I need to be that, or something like that. Give myself some credit. New Year's Resolution: Be my best self. Fake it 'til I make it. I can do this, right?"
The television was a distraction until Nathan felt the warmth of the room, the sound fading as he started to doze in the recliner.
"Crap! Crap! Crap!"
The sounds of the slammed door and Brian's expletives woke Nathan, who looked to see Brian with slush and muck all over him.
"What the hell happened?"
"I was by the park. Some jerk on an E-bike wasn't watching where he was going. Damn near hit me. I tried to get out of the way and slipped into a pile of snow. Then, right after I get up to get off the street, I slip on some mud and landed right in it. Dammit."
"I'm sorry, man. Here, let me take that bag with the cheese, so you can clean up," Nathan said, heading for the kitchen.
"Thanks, dude. I'm going to have this jacket dry cleaned now and, ugh. Not going to let that guy ruin my night."
"Good. I'm just glad you're okay. I'd hate for something bad to happen to you. That would suck. Seriously," Nathan said.
"No kidding, Sherlock," Brian teased, taking off his sweater.
"I'm serious, I just, never mind. I'll start getting stuff on the table. Get yourself cleaned up," Nathan said.
As Brian took a quick shower, his thoughts honed in on Nathan's expression when he said that. He hadn't had someone give him that look since college, since Haley. Another theater major. Haley Nielsen. The perfect girl or close enough to it, but then they drifted and she moved to L.A. to pursue her career there and he stayed here and that was it.Things happen and it was for the best. He couldn't have been the guy for her long-term anyway.
"But is Emma right? I mean, I could be misreading that look," Brian thought as he was pelted with the hot water. "But damn, I know that one well. And is it me, or is he looking softer, cuter and, stop it, Brian."
He shut off the hot water first, just long enough for the cold water to hit him for a few seconds.
Meanwhile, Nathan kept telling himself it was nothing major, that Brian wasn't injured, that it was just dirty clothes. But even for a flicker, that thought really hit him.
"I couldn't take Brian not being in my life. I mean losing a friend, but, no, Jess was right. It's deeper than that. But how can I tell him? It would just mess everything up. It's just a stupid fantasy on my part anyway. There's no way he'd," Nathan's thoughts interrupted by the realization of tears running down. "Grab a napkin. Don't let him see you like this. Get it together N-"
"And we're back," Brian said as he returned to the living room, using the mock announcer voice he still had from his improv classes.
"Ha! And exceedingly well-dressed I see. Guess ZZ Top was right. 'Every girl crazy 'bout a sharp-dressed man,'" Nathan teased.
"Smartass," Brian replied. "We're not going out anyway, so what's wrong with a NYU t-shirt and sweatpants?"
"Not a thing, Mr. Met Gala. Here's your plate," Nathan said, handing him some of the assortment of meat, cheese and fruit.
Nathan grabbed a plate and the two started talking. Brian was expecting to hear if he got the part in the next week. Nathan had a couple of assignments ahead, a story about a new vegan doughnut shop and a bio for an Americana band out of Iowa.
They fell into a conversational rhythm like they so often did. So easy, even ignoring the growing elephant in the room as they did it.
Then Brian said, "You know something, though? I'd love to act in something that you wrote."
"But I don't have anything. You know that," Nathan replied. "I have ideas written down. I've started some things, but I just don't have the time, especially lately. I've had a lot on my plate."
"True, but is it also possible that you're a little afraid of it? I read the stuff you wrote in college, like that play about the family in Nebraska, remember? It was good."
"Afraid, what the hell, Brian? I like what I do. Sure, I'd love to be able to write a movie, but I can't spend time pining for some fantasy."
"It doesn't have to be," Brian said. "Look, I've been so in my own head this last year with things picking up. And you've helped me so much with that. I know I've got this shoot, but after that, maybe it's time I returned the favor. I could brainstorm with you. Do some errand stuff or whatever when I'm around."
"That's sweet of you, but I couldn't ask you to-"
"You didn't ask. I'm offering. It's the least I can do. You're a good friend. No, a great friend. You deserve good things."
Nathan blushed. The silence in the room suddenly felt as deafening as the music on the headphones earlier. No, louder than that.
"Is it me, or has the vibe in the room changed?" Nathan asked.
Telling himself not to overthink something for once in his life, Brian said, "Maybe? Look. (Deep breath, you've got this, Brian) Nate, you've been there for me, as a friend, but you've been there for me more than anyone ever has, outside of my family. Not even any of my girlfriends."
Nathan sat in stunned silence at where this was going.
Brian continued, "Look, this is so hard. I kept telling myself that I can't, that I shouldn't. But, dammit, Nate. I love you. Not just as a friend, but-"
"What are you saying? Are you actually telling me-"
"Yes. Nate. I love you. Like, I want us to be there for each other, not just for reading scripts and stuff like that, but, God, I don't know, everything."
Nathan was stunned. "All this time, this was supposed to be a one-way street. But Brian's barreling from the other way and he likes me. He actually, no, this can't be real. He's drunk, no, wait, we haven't been drinking alcohol. This is happening," Nathan thought.
"Well say something, Nate. I just spilled my guts here. I've never had feelings for someone like you. Say something. Please?"
"I-i-i. I don't know what to say. Brian."
The words stopped, but Nathan's expression kept them going. Brian could see he wasn't alone in this. He put his hand up to Nathan's face, wiped away a tear, then came closer. He started to kiss Nathan, who responded in kind. All that pent-up emotion, all these months, the valve open, finally rele-
"Wait,no. Stop," Nathan said, pulling away. "This is wrong. I can't."
"What? I thought. I mean, you kissed me ba-"
"No, I can't. We can't. Sorry, Brian. I-I've gotta go. Sorry, sorry," Nathan said, grabbing a coat and sprinting out the door.
"Wait, no. Nate. Can't we talk about this? Nate, please stay. Nate!"
Brian started to chase after Nate, down the hall, but Nate had a head start. Then he realized he was in a T-shirt, sweatpants and no shoes. He slowly turned back to his apartment, practically zombie walked to his bed, sat down, put his head in his hands and started crying. All he could say to himself was, "You blew it. You were right. You shouldn't try to be the guy. You idiot. You blew it. Happy Effing New Year."
By the time Jess got home, she could hear the cries and curses through Nathan's bedroom door.
"Hey, did something happen? Is everything okay? Are you okay?"
"I screwed everything up. He kissed me and I screwed everything up," Nathan got out through choked out sobs.
"Oh, dear. How could you sc-"
"He told me he loved me. Then he kissed me and I kissed him back, but then I f-f-f-reeaked out and I ran and I don't know how, but I wound up back here and-"
Nathan dissolved into wordless crying as Jess just held on. "Just let it out. You'll be okay."
"I really hope so. God, I hope so," Jess thought.
January 1
Brian had finally fallen asleep, but only fitfully. He just kept replaying it over and over. He'd clearly misread Nathan. Or had he? He knew Nathan well enough to know that he- or maybe he didn't know. Or maybe Nathan has something else going on. Maybe he wasn't ready. Damn.
Nathan, meanwhile, finally calmed down enough to sleep. The butt ugly polo and jeans were dropped to the side. Whatever time it was, it was time for bed and they both crashed into a deep, long sleep in their respective bedrooms.
Around 6:30 that night, the sound of a buzzing cell phone rousted Brian from his self-flagellation. It was his agent.
He answered, "Phil, what's up?"
"Brian, I am talking to the new Detective Colin Lowery, the best part in 'Lead Time.'"
"I got the part? Holy shit!"
"You got the part. I'm at the Westby. Come on down, I'll buy you a beer."
"Yeah, sure. Great! I'll see you in a few minutes."
Brian went to the bathroom, turned on some cold water and splashed his face. He wanted to run out and the street, pumping his fists and do a happy dance, but Nathan, damn.
"Come on Brian, this is good news and you're an actor. Act happy, buddy," he said to the mirror, before making his way there.
Phil Turner waited, remembering Brian as a talented guy, even with the self-doubt. He'd worked for more neurotic actors, and he'd always felt that it was only a matter of time before things clicked for Brian.
Brian spotted him, making his way to the chair across the table as Phil motioned to the server for two rounds.
"Congratulations. I knew something like this would happen," Phil said.
"Thanks, man. Whew," Brian said. It's a relief. I felt good about what I did with it, but you never know. How much did they like it? Will they get a bigger name?"
"This time, you're the bigger name," Phil said. "So, let's talk shop about this a bit."
The two started to talk about details, about how he'd be getting the full script, watermarked for him, delivered in a few days. There were some moving parts to put into place yet.
Phil started to talk about those parts when he got a good look at Brian and realized something was off. He said, "You just got the part. THE part. What's wrong?"
"What do you mean? No, I'm good. This is freaking huge for me, thank you. I mean, it's awesome."
"Come on, Brian. You're a damn good actor, but you're not THAT good. You have something else on your mind."
"Yeah, Phil. I guess I do. Can you give me a minute?"
Phil stood up and gave Brian a pat on the back. "Buddy, take all the time you need. The rehearsals start a month from now, so we have time to talk about more details. Go. Do what you need to do."
"Thanks man, you're the best," Brian said as he pulled out his phone to call Nate.
"That's what you pay me for, Helton. That's what you pay me for," a smiling Phil said with a wave as he left.
Brian was surprised to hear Jess answer him.
"Hey, is, um, Nathan there?"
"Busy right now," she said. "What can I do for you?"
"Um, well, I really need to talk to him. Would it be okay if I came over?"
Jess looked over at Nathan, mouthing the words. Hesitantly at first, then emphatically, Nathan nodded yes, before putting up a hand in a "Stop!" motion
Nathan grabbed a nearby pen and paper, holding up the paper to Jess revealing the words "Give me an hour."
"Brian, can you wait an hour?"
"Sure. He can take all the time he needs," Brian said.
"Great, see you then," Jess said warmly.
"All the time he needs, the longest 60 minutes of my life," Brian thought as he nursed a beer the whole time, not even getting a reassuring look from the bar, as Emma had the day off.
Looking for what felt like the hundredth time at his phone. 56 minutes. No, 57. Good enough. I can't wait any longer. He walked to the subway, scared of what was going to happen, still doubting he could be the man Nate needed.
Jess heard the knock on the door, looked through the keyhole to see Brian. The keyhole view didn't show what she saw when she opened. He looked like hell.
"Thanks, Jess. I, uh, is Nathan here?"
She reassuringly waved him in, inviting him to have a seat. "Can I get you anything? Water? Tea?"
Brian said, "Water would be fine, thanks. Nathan?"
Jess smiled, "Nathan's not here for a bit, but, they left this for you," as she handed him an envelope.
More confused than before, he looked up at her.
"Trust me, you're going to want to read this. I'm going to go out for a little while to give you some privacy. Just promise me one thing," she said.
"What's that?"
As she made her way to the door, not knowing herself how this would play out, she gave him a look of reassurance, telling him, "Be nice," Her look became tinged with "If you hurt my friend, I will end you" vibes, as she added for emphasis. "Be. Nice."
"I will," Brian replied, taking a couple deep breaths as the door closed behind her. "Okay, let's see how badly you screwed this up, Brian," he said, opening the envelope and pulling out the folded paper inside.
He began to read, hearing Nathan's voice in his head upon seeing his words written out.
"Brian, I feel terrible about last night. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. Running away was a bad thing to do, but it was the only thing in my head at that moment. Fight or flight? Flight. Terrible. You deserve better."
"I know, I know," the note continued. "I should be telling you this directly, but the truth is, I'm still scared. Really scared. And when I get scared, it's easier to put down what I have to say on paper. I've been that way since grade school. Besides, that's what I do. I write."
Brian sighed, but kept reading.
"Again, I'm so sorry about last night. You did nothing wrong. When you kissed me, I was shocked. In a good way. Truth is, I've had feelings for you for a long time, but I never had any indication you felt the same way. I was kind of convinced you didn't. I didn't want to screw up what we had, you know?"
Before the words "But why?" could escape Brian's lips, he read the next paragraph. "But then it hit me. You don't know. I panicked. I couldn't be that guy. I can't be him, because I'm trans. I've been seeing a therapist and everything. I can't be Nathan, because I need to be Nicole. I am Nicole. You didn't know it, but that's who you were kissing."
"Wow," was all Brian could say. It wasn't anything he saw coming, but, but something about it fit. Nathan had been acting like his usual self lately, but that's it, it felt like acting, like he was playing at being Nathan. His anguish and confusion began to give way to feeling for his friend, for what he, no, she had been going through. He picked the note up again.
"I haven't come out to many people. Jess knows and I suspect Emma does, but that's it. I've been so scared to tell you. I mean, instinctively, I know you're not a jerk, so I can't see you being a transphobe, but there's still a small chance. There's this girl in my support group, let's call her 'Lily.' She had an older sister that was her best friend for years until she came out to her. She flipped, which Lily never saw coming. She still doesn't know if they can repair the damage."
"So, I have faith in you, but I hope you can understand my fear. Plus, I've been thinking of you as more than a friend, so I feared that rejection."
"But, here's the thing," she continued. "If you don't see me as girlfriend material, I can live with that, as long as I don't lose you as a friend. I understand if you're freaked out or you need time. This was totally not the way I wanted to come out to you, believe me, but it's what happened. I hate that I can't go back and change it. Just know this, I will always care about you as a friend and, if you feel about Nicole as you did Nate, I definitely care about you that way,"
"Holy crap," Brian muttered, "Holy crap."
He paused for what felt like another hour, trying to absorb all this, before going back to the note.
"No rush," Nicole wrote. "But just know, if you still want me in your life, I'll be there for you no matter wh-"
Brian heard a thump from behind the closed door to Nath-Nicole's bedroom, then an anguished voice crying out, "Shit! Stupid phone!"
As he saw the words, "Love, Nicole" on the note not seeing the "P.S. -- I'm so damn sorry. Forgive me" below.
He stood up and spoke, "Nicole? You can come out now, um, so to speak."
Nicole's bedroom door slowly opened. She tentatively stepped out, her auburn hair having been styled into something workably feminine by Jess. Her makeup skills weren't what she wanted, but way better than when she started ("All praise YouTube tutorials", she thought to herself). She wore a women's Nirvana tee, jeans and low-heeled boots. Biting her lip nervously, she said, "Brian?"
"Nicole. Okay, Nicole," he nodded. "Nice T-shirt."
"Yeah, I can even name more than three songs by them," she chuckled.
"Smartass."
"I get that way when I'm nervous."
"I get that. I am, too. But maybe there's no need to be," Brian said, motioning her to the couch. "We can talk about this, now that it's in the open and all."
"Again, I'm so, so sorry about last night, I just-"
"It's okay, I think," Brian said as he took Nicole's hand, not even noticing the blue polish on her nails as he looked in her eyes. "I mean, yeah. I've been beating myself up all day. It hurt. It really hurt but I get it, I think. You were scared. I ducked my feelings for you for a long time because I was scared. I kept thinking, 'I can't be the guy for you because I can't be gay,' until I finally realized, 'Screw it. So what if I were?' I was scared. You were scared. And, seeing you right now, I think I'm bi anyway, so I was twisting myself into knots for nothing. Maybe we were both twisting ourselves into knots for nothing. We might be okay."
"We?"
"Absolutely," Brian said as Nicole could see him tearing up. "Look, I already knew I loved you, but today, I got the best news of my life and I was miserable because I couldn't celebrate it with the guy, no, the woman, who got me there. It just felt wrong."
"So you're saying you're good with me, with this," she said, gesturing at herself before the light bulb went off over her head. "Ohmigawd! Holy crap! You got the part!"
Nicole instinctively moved over to hug him, embracing him as she continued, "I'm so proud of you! I said you could nail it!"
"Thanks, you helped me so much. You unlocked that part for me, kind of like you unlocked other things. I mean, today's been a lot. This is new for me, but, you're still you, so to speak. I mean, geez, I thought I was an actor, but you've been pretending to be a guy all this time."
Nicole, tearing up, said, "You're right. For a long time, even into this year, I almost believed it, but I'm retiring.I don't know about you, but I could go for a drink right now."
"Me, too," Brian said, "We have a lot to catch up on."
"Indeed, we do," Nicole said as she went to make the drinks, feeling hope as the last vestiges of last night's panic slipped away. For the first time since last night, no, longer than that -- months? years?, she felt like she could breathe a little.
She brought the drinks and some snack mix. The two nibbled the snacks as they sipped their beverages, talking for a while, answering each other's questions. Nicole told Brian about how she planned her dressing when he was on shoots or auditions, so there was no chance of him stopping by. Some of her "work stuff" was actually therapy sessions and support group meetings. He told her that he couldn't remember when he first had feelings for her, but that they were cemented when she helped him with that read for "Lead Time" a few months ago.
They'd gradually sat closer to each other until they touched, an awkward silence threatening to creep in. Nicole looked at Brian, asking him "You did say, 'We' earlier. Did you really mean that?"
Brian said, "I told you already and I'll tell you as many times as I have to. Yes, I mean it."
Nicole leaned in towards him, raised her left eyebrow, saying, "That kiss from last night? How about picking up where we left off, then?"
Brian's widening grin gave her the only answer she needed.
January 2
Brian stirred again, opening his eyes to see the pattern the sun made on the opposite wall through the partially opened window shades. The extra bit of sleep, after Nicole got up, did wonders.
He could hear Nicole in the living room, then saw her through the open bedroom door.
"Hey, beautiful. How'd it go?" he asked.
"Well, you've met my parents. I mean, I expected Mom to concern troll me about it, but she started talking about her new daughter. Then she had a feeling this is what was bothering me. I told her, 'Well you could have told me!' She said, 'Sweetie, that's something you had to figure out for yourself. Gah!" Nicole said.
"She's probably right."
"Yeah, but I could have used a little help cracking the egg. She knows about us, too."
"She does? Probably fine with that, knowing her. And your dad?"
"He didn't surprise me like mom did. He was quiet, but nice. I know he has my back, but, you know, if you ever get cast to play someone named Mr. Stoic, you can shadow him for a week. Oh, by the way, I got you a bagel, poppy seed with salmon cream cheese, right? I think they used Nova."
As she held up the bag, he took in what he was seeing. She was in a gold V-neck sweater, her hair framing her face well. The makeup applied with less nerves. Hoop earrings and --
"Wait, those glasses are new?"
"Nothing gets by you, Mr. Movie Detective," she quipped. "Tortoise shell cats-eyes. Turns out they were delivered to the wrong apartment. The guy who lives in 4-D got back this morning and brought them to me. It makes a bigger difference than I thought, not wearing 'his' glasses anymore. They look good for the pictures."
"Oh?"
She said, "I thought about it after the last couple days and, you know, you and my parents were the ones I was most worried about coming out to. I just wanted to pull off the bandage, so, well..."
She showed her phone to Brian, who saw the new profile picture, shot outside the bagel shop, and the name below it -- "Nicole Cafferty."
"How's the response been?"
"Well, it's still early, but it seems to be pretty positive so far. I guess I've got a pretty good group of friends. I'd hoped so, but you never know," she said as she sat at the foot of the bed.
The thought hit his mind. If she can be out, so could he. It took long enough, but I'm ready. I can do this, but I can't just make this call unilaterally.
He asked her, "So, when do we let them know about us? No rush, but I'm ready whenever you are."
"I think they're well ahead of us," Nicole said with a smile. She turned her phone so he could scroll the comments on the post -- "About damn time! Jeebus!" , "So that's what it was! So happy for you!", "You go, girl!", but then, "How'd your boyfriend take it?", "I bet Brian's proud of you. He'd better be. If he's not, I'll set him straight on how to treat you", and then, "So, when are you two making it Facebook Official? We have a pool" (said with a wink).
"Oh, geez, Emma," Brian said in mock distress. "I really thought I was hiding it. Guess I'm not as good an actor as I thought."
"Oh, you're a damn good actor, honey," Nicole replied as she lay down on the bed beside him, looking straight into his eyes. "It's just that deep down, you didn't believe the material. But luckily, that project's been shelved. Permanently."
"Thank God. I've got enough on my plate," Brian said, looking attentively at her. This friend he could always count on, yet always wondering if there could be more to it (and afraid of that very possibility). And here it was. Here she was, clearly with her mask off. His, too. The fear gone. Fake it? No, he'd made it. They both had.
He continued, "I know everybody's been ahead of us, but I think we're catching up. And, well-"
"Oh, you read my mind," Nicole said, kissing him with intent and purpose, as he responded likewise. "Catching up is going to be a lot of fun."
Her phone slipped off the side of the bed, its fall cushioned by "his" jeans and "Nathan's" godawful polo shirt, one she'd never need again.
Making it Facebook Official could wait. So could the world.
A welcoming gathering spot, The Midnight Hour is a place where love can be found, lost and maybe even found again.
At The Midnight Hour
By Marissa Lynn
This would have been a "You may wonder how I wound up here" needle scratch moment, but Ethan Hammond knew exactly how he came to be sitting in The Midnight Hour, sipping on a bourbon cocktail that somehow tasted of chocolate even though there wasn't any in it.
This was the scene of the crime -- where it all started and where it all went completely sideways.
"Hey, Ethan. Want another one?" Holly, the bartender in the blunt blonde bob with streaks of pink, asked. She ran the place, dispensing drinks and acting as a sort of lesbian den mother to the customers.
"Sure, why not?"
"It's not as if I have anything better to do than be drinking alone right now."
Some time ago...
"That was a good session, don't you think?"
"It was, Neil. It was. If Jack gets the sound as right as I think he does, the EP should turn out great," Ethan said.
"Exactly. Now, I think we need a place to celebrate. I haven't lived here very long, but a friend of mine told me - there it is!"
Neil Murray motioned to the opposite corner of the intersection to the bar in question. And that's how Ethan, straight guitarist and songwriter wound up in a beloved queer bar with his unquestionably gay and even more unquestionably talented bass player, Neil.
"What can I get you folks?" Holly, in the same bob, but blue, asked.
Ethan was about to say "a beer", but Neil beat him to the punch. "Whaddya got?"
"Tell you what, why don't I surprise you? Just tell me your favorite liquor."
Ethan answered "bourbon" while Neil chimed in with "gin."
"Perfect. Back in a few."
Ethan and Neil started talking, the latter more hopeful of the prospects for what they'd recorded. Ethan felt good about the songs he'd come up with and the band was fine, it was finding the audience that was the question.
"Here you go. Hope you like," Holly said.
"Ooh, kinda savory, I like it," Neil said while Ethan affirmed his approval for the cocktail he'd soon become familiar with.
The two picked up their conversation about the EP and how Ethan needed to pick a title. Neil couldn't help but pick up on the bar's vibe.
"I have to say, Greg was right about this place. Seems like it has a little bit of everything and everyone and if this is any indication, the drink program's got to be great."
Ethan nodded. It wasn't a place he would have sought out, but he didn't feel uncomfortable like he'd have thought. As he visually surveyed the place, he caught sight of a table with three women who weren't unattractive, careful not to linger.
Considering this place, they could very well be lesbian. Maybe even the three of them were in what do they call it? A polycule? No shade on consenting adults doing consenting adult things, but he thought Polycule sounded like the name of a math rock band.
When he looked back, he saw the woman at the end of the table looking at him and, oh boy. Golden brown hair, her look put together well and- "Is she smiling at me?"
"Come on, Ethan. Don't be creepy."
But every time he looked over, it seemed she was looking back at him, before they'd engage in an unplanned race to see who could look away the fastest.
"You should go introduce yourself," Neil said.
"What? No. I mean, this isn't that kind of bar."
"Is it? I mean, bi people exist, trans people exist and, ahem, so do straight friends who hang out with their gay bandmates. By the way, I've seen that look on your face before -- Megan Zimmerman, sophomore year."
"We dated until senior year when she dumped me for the captain of the basketball team."
"And then Cindy Tucker a couple years ago."
"Yes, and nine months later, she came out of the closet. She says "Hi," by the way. But I'm in no mood to go 0-for-3, okay?"
"Fine, suit yourself, Mr. Lone Wolf."
Before Ethan could respond, he felt a tap on his shoulder, he turned to see the woman from the table looking right at him.
"Hi, I'm Chloe."
Chloe
If she weren't with good friends, she'd have felt like the third wheel, although she could have lived without the talk turning to her dating life.
"Chloe, what's it been, almost a year?" Tessa asked.
"Maybe, but I'm busy with my job and I have my friends at home and I have my cats. I don't need a man."
"Well, you could try dating a woman again?" Rachel said.
"I tried that with you, remember?" Chloe said, thinking back to when they'd been together earlier in their transitions. They'd ended as friends with the realization that, unlike Rachel, she wasn't attracted to women that way.
"Yes, you did. Thank you for being straight, by the way," Rachel said as she lovingly put her hand on Tessa's arm. "Ooh, Chloe. The guy at your 12 o'clock."
She looked and saw a dark-haired guy in the brown jacket (simple, but effective) with his friend. Or boyfriend, probably. He looked their way and, oh God, he's very cute. She smiled.
"Too awkward. Look away."
The furtive glancefest continued between them before Tessa said, "Oh, come on. Are you going to do this all night? At least talk to Hottie McHotface over there."
Chloe, knowing these two were going to keep bugging her about it, got up and made her way to the bar.
"Come on, Chloe. Don't flub the introduction."
"Hi, I'm Chloe."
"Smooth."
Ethan
That look Neil mentioned? He was feeling that inside with Chloe, warmth to an unfamiliar degree. While he hadn't lacked confidence when it came to women, she had him feeling a little out of his league.
That didn't matter, as they fell into a groove talking as Neil made himself scarce, eventually going over to Rachel and Tessa.
Chloe had to eventually wrap things up, as she had work tomorrow at the place where she did graphic design. "I'd like to continue this conversation on an actual date, if you'd like."
"I'd like that a lot, Chloe. You pick the time and place."
She unleashed a smile at him that, damn. He got why women were annoyed getting told to smile more. But when one like this came naturally and earned, he was smitten.
Chloe's choice was a simple one, an izakaya not far away. Perfect for sharing and quiet enough to enjoy each other's company.
He suggested getting dessert nearby. Her expression changed slightly before she countered with a suggestion to go to The Midnight Hour.
They wound up there with some off-menu booze-free hot chocolate, a recipe Holly got from her partner, Tina.
"This is really good," Ethan said. "But I have a feeling that's not why we're here."
"You're partially right, but I want to be on friendly turf when I tell you."
"Tell me what?"
"I like you a lot, Ethan, but if we're going to go farther, you need to know. I'm transgender."
"I, wow. I had no idea."
"It's true. I wanted to get to know you better, so that I could get a feeling I could trust you."
"I mean, you can. I wasn't expecting you to tell me this."
"Look, I understand if this is a dealbreaker for you."
"I didn't say that. It's just that I wasn't expecting it. Let's get another round and talk about it."
Chloe nervously agreed, not knowing where this was going, but trusting her instincts. Her fears were soon eased.
"I can't say you didn't surprise me. But, truth is, ever since we met, I've only seen you as a woman. I guess that "trans" is just another adjective for you, like gorgeous, kind --"
"Normally, I'd ask you to go on, but-"
"But, what?"
Chloe leaned in. As far as first kisses go, it was an all-timer for Ethan. If he'd been 99.5 percent taken with her after their meeting, the kiss took care of the rest.
Chloe
"That went better than I thought, but exactly how I hoped."
She was glad her intuition hadn't turned to crap. Objectively, there'd been nothing wrong with her partners for a while, since her early days as herself, at least. But Ethan seemed really solid.
His second date was a bit of a cheat, as it was seeing him play at a club. His enthusiasm about his music had charmed her, even if he seemed down about its prospects. It turned out he and his band were good, playing sort of a catchy form of indie. If the crowd was a little small, they weren't immune to its charms.
While grabbing a quick bite afterwards, they mutually agreed on their next date -- a picnic lunch at Hubbard Park since it was supposed to be an unseasonably warm day.
As they took care of the food and wine, she couldn't help but wonder why they clicked. Sure, he checked off a lot of boxes, but it was something undefinable beyond that. She remembered from an old class, the judge who'd defined obscenity as "I'll know it when I see it."
"Maybe it's true of love, too."
Ethan interrupted her thoughts. "You know, I love Midnight Hour, but would you like to come back to my place first?"
"Very, very much."
They never made it to the bar.
That day? It wasn't perfect. He was new to being with a woman like her and they were new to each other. But their enthusiasm made up for a lot and they soon figured out how to work within their desires and boundaries.
Having lunch with Rachel one day, she said, "Thanks for making me introduce myself to, what did you call him, 'Hottie McHotface'?"
"You did it yourself, girl. And that good, eh?"
"Totally. It's like he's like the best friend I've ever had and then the sex."
"Do tell."
"I could tell it was new to him, but he hit that sweet spot between being eager and too eager, like he was willing to explore with me rather than show off what he thought he learned from porn. And he's a quick learner, too. He does this thing with his-"
"Ladies, are you ready to order?"
"Um, yes, sure. I'll have the shrimp salad."
The blush fading, Chloe thought, "It really is great. I just hope we can take it to the next level."
Ethan
Dating a trans woman isn't any different than dating any other woman? "Yes and no," he thought.
Ethan couldn't claim familiarity with the topic that he had no first-hand experience with until recently. He just knew that Chloe was someone he liked, more than he had before. She had a different life experience and body, but he just tried to treat her how he'd want to be treated in that situation, which is to say he followed her lead.
And forget any differences she might have from a cis woman, she was just the best girlfriend he'd had. Any hangups he might have had were wiped away quickly by just how in tune they became.
There was just one problem. His dad had been out of the picture for years, but he was a textbook jackass, including fact-free opinions on LGBTQ people that he could state with all the bluster you'd expect. His mom finally stopped putting up with it, but she had a habit of staying quiet about such things after kicking him out.
His brother Chase, who'd just as well have been named Dad Jr., a 6'9" package of ignorance and mansplaining whose charm kept as well as an unrefrigerated milk truck abandoned in a Louisiana bayou for a month.
He was someone Ethan just grew to avoid. Any time he tried to speak up about Chase, Mom would just say, "Well, he's your brother." Even now, she tried to insist the opinionated behemoth was different than he used to be. Ethan wasn't that gullible.
And then there's the rest of the family, God. Ethan knew he needed to come out, as silly as it sounded to him. "Mom, I'm straight and this is my girlfriend." But how?
He knew Chloe was starting to get that itch. There were pictures of them he treasured, that he kept on his phone. But he told her, "These are for us." He hated doing it and he hated how he could see how she felt about it. But she didn't grow up with his family and...sigh.
And his music. He loved the creative outlet, but it felt like he was getting thwarted at every turn. Yes, the "Songs For Now" E.P. was coming out, but things weren't good at the label. It looked like, at best, he'd be getting dumped and, at worst, the label would go under. He knew Neil, who'd started dating Greg, would stick with him, but the other guys?
"I bet I can get a promotion soon. Maybe I'm better off just quitting this crap. Time to grow up, probably."
But Chloe first. Have to make it official. After the show.
"Who's texting me? Shit. Not now."
Chloe
"Okay, what's wrong?" Holly asked as she handed Chloe a mocktail.
"Nothing, really."
"Come on, now. I can see it. Trouble with Ethan?"
"No. I mean, maybe. It's been great, really great."
"But-"
"He hasn't told his family yet, which, he doesn't talk about them much, but I gather it wasn't the best. But it's like he's hiding us. You notice he hasn't officially said he's dating me on social media even with pics from here and all."
"I'm the first woman Tina's ever been with and it took her time to admit her sexuality, which having been there myself, I wanted to give her time. But I did start to get impatient."
"But she did and look at you two, now. I just don't know that Ethan will get there. He's making me feel like I did years ago. The first two guys I dated wanted me on the down low. When I started to put my foot down with the second one, he got angry and it ended with him calling me a cheap lay and storming off."
"That's not Ethan, is it?"
"No, but I hate it even more that he's giving me flashbacks, even though he doesn't mean to."
"Sounds like you need to talk this out. Tina and I did. It wasn't easy and it might not be with him. But if he's worth it, he'll understand."
"Maybe," Chloe sighed as she put down her finished drink and paid Holly.
As she walked back home to finish some remote work, a flier on a light pole caught her eye-- "Live at The Store Tonight (Friday): Ethan Hammond."
"Sonofabitch."
Chloe had no idea why he didn't tell her he was playing tonight, so she sat in the back, disguising herself further with an old baseball cap.
It was another good set, about 45 minutes worth, not that she noticed as she seethed more.
Afterwards, she saw Ethan at the merch table talking to a middle-aged woman and the bouncer at the club. She approached, "Hi, Ethan."
He was too busy being stunned to fully read the look on her face.
"Oh, um, hi. Mom, Chase, this is Chloe. She's a friend of mine from the neighborhood where I live."
"Nice to meet you, Chloe."
"Likewise. Ethan, I didn't know you were playing tonight."
"It was a surprise show."
"Oh, cool, You guys sounded good. Catch you later," she said, trying to sound enthusiastic, but not caring that she didn't. She walked out quickly, lest she see his face.
Ethan wanted to chase after her, but he'd already let Neil go off with Greg because they had late dinner plans. So, he had to stay with the merch. Plus, Mom and Chase ("What the hell is he doing here?") were lingering. The table was now a prison cell until he could get them to leave.
It took what felt like days, but he got them out of there, promising to meet up with them tomorrow. He took the merch back to his apartment and decided to try the Midnight Hour first.
Upon entering, he saw her with Rachel and Tessa, none of them looking happy.
"Excuse me, Chloe. Can we talk?"
"Yeah, I think we need to."
As they found a secluded corner spot, she lit into him with a fury that belied her lack of volume.
"What the hell was tonight about? You don't tell me you're playing and then you call me 'your friend'? What is wrong with you? I open myself up to you and you treat me like I'm some plaything."
"That's not true. I didn't tell you because I found out Mom was coming. I didn't even know about Chase."
"So, you're that ashamed of me?!?!?"
"No, that's not it, at all. Look, I've told you. I know I need to come out to them, but it has to be the right time. And tonight wasn't the right time."
"Coming out? I'm a woman. Dating me doesn't make you gay."
"I know that and you know that, but my family? They aren't going to see it what way and, again, tonight wasn't right-"
"I'd say that's true, but you know what, Ethan? You opened my eyes tonight. There's never going to be a right time."
"Look, I didn't want them there, either, even though it's probably one of my last shows. I need to be in the real world. The music's not happening."
"You're giving up on that? I can't believe you, Ethan. I thought you were special. I loved the way you made me feel, but you know what? You're just a coward. You're giving up on what you love. The music and me."
"That's a cheap shot. I'm not, God. I love you!"
"No, you don't. I'm just one of your 'friends.' You've made that clear. I think you should leave."
"But-"
"Get the hell out!"
Ethan
"They won't mind if I just stay here in bed with my head covered all day."
But knowing his family, Ethan resignedly didn't really feel like having them here, even with Chase being weirdly un-Chaselike last night. He got up to meet them at the hotel restaurant for brunch and whatever else they had planned.
He'd wanted to stay last night, to convince Chloe, but he saw it in her face. He'd blown it.
He was completely on autopilot, hoping they wouldn't see how crushed he was. 0-for-3. Three strikes. I'm done.
Still, he managed to have a presentable face when he met them. He was absentmindedly poking at a stack of blueberry pancakes, when Sharon spoke up.
"Ethan, what's wrong?"
"Nothing. Why?"
"Something obviously is. You haven't been the same since you saw Chloe last night. You seem to like her as more than a friend. She doesn't feel the same?"
Ethan took a deep breath. "No, it's not like that at all. I mean, I do like her, I love her actually. And she feels, felt, the same."
"But you called her a friend last night. Why would you-"
"Because I was afraid of how you'd react if you knew."
"But she seemed like a lovely young woman."
"She is. A lovely young, transgender woman."
"Oh. Oh."
"Yeah. We met at this bar and it was the best connection I've ever had.Nobody I've ever been with has made me feel like she has and I think I was doing the same for her, but I was too worried about what you and the rest of the family thought and I didn't tell you in time. I screwed it all up."
"Oh, Ethan."
"There's my resolution for the new year. To not be a complete idiot. Too late for her."
"How could you ever think that about us?"
"I remember how Dad used to talk and you never contradicted him. Even though you had the good sense to kick his ass out, you never really did counter him. And don't even get me started on him. I'm sure he's ready to fill in for Dad," Ethan said, motioning to Chase.
Silent to this point, his big brother said, "We really haven't talked lately."
"There's a reason for that. And?"
Chase sighed, "I said some awful crap in the past, but the last few years have shown me I was wrong about a lot of things. I'm sorry I didn't speak out more, that I didn't reach out to you. Look, I don't understand, but I'm not Chloe and I'm not you, so it's none of my business. Wait, that's not entirely true, seeing you like this is."
"You're not going to spew insults about her and me?"
"No, if I were going to, I'd be ten years younger and I already would have. Look, man. It's clear you love this Chloe. Maybe you can talk to her-"
"I tried and failed, but thank you. I guess if I ever meet a new best girlfriend I've ever had and she happens to be trans, I've got it covered."
"Like that's going to happen."
Back to the present
Ethan polished off his second drink, left cash on the bar and got up to leave.
Holly said,"Hope to see you again."
"I'd like that,but it's probably not a good idea. This is Chloe's place and she doesn't want me around," Ethan said, pulling out an extra 10 bucks and putting it on the bar. "Thanks for everything, though."
Chloe
It was going to be a drown your sorrows kind of night. She thought that it would be better with Rachel and Tessa than alone.
She put down some food for Pancho and Lefty, then took a look at herself in the mirror. Her ensemble, the makeup with the heavier eyeliner than usual, didn't say "Screw you, Ethan" so much as it said "Well, this beats eating a pint of gelato solo."
She still couldn't believe she'd let him get so close, after all this time getting a good read on people. Everything about him said he was special, but it turned out to be garbage.
She was almost at The Midnight Hour, turning the corner when she almost ran into a beefy guy who looked like he played for the Knicks.
"Ethan's brother?"
"Chloe, if you have a few minutes, can we talk?"
A few minutes (and more) later
Ethan checked his email, finding one from Derek Patterson, who owned the studio where Songs For Now was recorded. He skimmed through it, snatches of it registering -- "Played the EP to show off the sound we got," "band loved it," "manager wants to contact you for name clients," "write songs with/for them," "thinks you deserve a label deal."
"You have got to be kidding me!" he said, his celebration cut short as he realized that, as with his realization of his family's acceptance, it was too late for him, for them.
His phone buzzed. "What does Chase want now?"
"Ethan, there's something I need to talk to you about. I'm at a bar called McGillicuddy's. You know it, right?"
"Yeah, but I just need to get some sleep."
"It's really important, okay? It's something I haven't told Mom yet."
"Okay, fine. Give me 20 minutes."
"Great, see you then."
Ethan got to the Irish bar, only to see Chase standing outside.
"Hey, man," Chase said. "It's a little too crowded in there. Let's walk instead."
"So, what's the problem, Chase?"
"It's a little difficult for me to say. I need to get the words right."
Chase didn't need to stall for long, as they were only a block away from The Midnight Hour to begin with.
"Oh, no. What are you trying to pull? I'm not going in there again."
"Maybe you should."
"No, I'm not going to go into a place where she hates-Chloe?"
"Hey, Ethan. I hear you told your family about us after all."
"Too late. I told you I needed the right time. I don't know that you dumping me was it, but here we are. Sorry it's too late for us."
"Maybe it's not too late. Look, I get being in a relationship with someone like me is new and your brother filled me more on what your father was like and what he was like. I'm sorry I didn't trust you to do the right thing."
"I'm the one who should be apologizing. You deserved someone who's open about the joy you give them. One thing, though, I was never ashamed of you. I was ashamed of myself. I hated that I was hiding it, hated that what happened to me when I was a kid screw everything up. I love you, Chloe. I always will."
"I love you, too, but you're still giving up on-"
"That was just frustration, which I would have-look, I got some really good news on that. Here, hold on."
She took Ethan's phone. "Oh wow. They just played the arena! And a new deal? I'm so happy for you!
"We'll see. Some things have to happen first. None of it might happen, but maybe it's the universe telling me to listen to the most beautiful woman I've ever known who was also kind enough to keep at me not to give up."
That familiar tingle grew into a loud buzz in Chloe's said. She tucked her hair behind her left ear, asking,"So, about us? I think we're worth another shot."
"Beautiful AND wise. Yes, we're worth it," Ethan replied before they enveloped each other in a warm, kiss-heavy embrace.
Having given them distance, Chase said, "You two take care of each other. And don't screw this up. You've got a keeper there."
"I won't," Chloe said.
Chase shook his head, smiled and said, "I was talking to him."
"He's right," Ethan said. "Say, what do you say we go inside and give them the good news?"
"Um, I think they're aware," motioning inside so he could see Rachel, Tessa, Neil, Greg, Holly and Tina, all smiling and waving.
Holly had put two tables together in the back, so they could all sit together. Chase even joined in ("Who is this guy and what has he done with my brother?").
He and Chloe both thanked Chase for his intervention, which she could tell still surprised Ethan.
They also thanked Neil for dragging him to Midnight Hour that night.
"Guess you liked more than the vibe, eh, Mr. Lone Wolf," he replied with a wink.
The spirits were good. There were promises to be there tomorrow for New Year's Eve. Ethan shared the good news that his music might start paying off, to which Holly said, "I'd say I hope you won't get too big to play here, but I'd be lying."
"You're adding live music?"
"Indeed, I am. Tina's been suggesting it for a while."
"If it works out, I'd be glad to, any time."
Chloe gave him a playful elbow to the ribs when he asked if she knew the name of a good graphic designer to do album artwork.
He also took his share of deserved needling.
"Well, I'm glad Hottie McHotface finally pulled his head out of his butt," Tessa finally said.
Ethan didn't have a background in comedy, but he executed a perfect spit take as Chase burst out laughing.
"Oh, God. I'm never living that one down am I?"
"No, little brother, you are definitely not."
"Definitely," Neil added, as Ethan would find out months later when he found bumper stickers with the nickname on it all over his guitar case at the apartment after he and Chloe moved in together.
"I should go tell Guillermo to take over so I can be off duty for a bit," Holly said.
"Bathroom break," Ethan said, excusing himself. Chloe didn't see him, but he paused to say something to Holly at the bar. Chase and Neil did see, but had no idea what made Holly smile.
When he got back to the table, Holly was there. He gave a little finger signal to her as he told Chloe, "I love you so much and I'm never going to screw this up again. Promise," and gave her a kiss.
"That's as good a New Year's resolution as any," she said as she kissed him back.
This drew a reaction from the table, of course, except from Holly, who was surreptitiously taking pictures of it with her phone.
A short time later, Ethan handed Holly his phone, asking, "Say, can you take a pic of Chloe and I?"
"I'd love to."
The pair moved in closer together, with huge smiles as they made contact, the loud buzzing they both felt amplified.
Ethan looked at the pics on his phone, finding one in focus that was perfect. That smile from the first date that hit him square in the heart, his expression looking like he felt that night.
He showed Chloe, "So, what do you think of this for the first photo of us as an official couple to the world?"
Chloe, her sense of trust restored, flashed back -- to their meeting at a bar, of all places, the chemistry that had been so obvious, the relief that the openness she deserved, that he did, too, was now in place.
"Took you long enough. I love it," she said.
"Well there's one or two others," Ethan said as he opened them -- one of the kiss and one right after where they clearly looked as deeply in love as they were.
"All of the above," she said with a look of gleeful determination, adding with a stop sign motion before leaning in to kiss Ethan again, "No cameras this time. This one's for us."
Catching Up
By Marissa Lynn
"Come on Mitch, stop squirming."
"I can't believe I let you talk me into this."
"Oh stop whining, Mitch. You can't be having that bad of a time. And remember it's for the views, right?" Cassie asked as she applied the eyeliner along his left lower lash line.
"Besides, it's what we do for our art and sometimes, we suffer for our art, right? It's for the Dynamic Four, after all," Todd said
"Easy for you to say, Todd," Mitch said. "This is like a day ending in 'y' for you. I mean, remember Monday's shoot?"
"Yes, but I was dressed as She-Hulk, remember? Not the same."
"Technically, She-Hulk: Attorney at Law and I seem to remember you being rather particular about which skirt you were going to use," Mitch replied.
"Well, she is an attorney and she has to look professional and chic, not cheap and fabulous. Besides that's cosplay. And this, this is Miranda's debut," Todd said
"Ugh, still cosplay, remember?" Mitch grumbled.
"Indeed. You close, Cass?"
"Just about. Okay, just a little gloss and...there we go. Got it."
"Great, now let me go get the wig," Todd said, signaling to Chris to be ready to shoot his return to the room. As he gave him the cue, he walked into the room with one in a brunette, wavy bob. "You'd better be careful with this,'Miranda.' Just because I got a good deal on this one doesn't mean I want it damaged."
"Sure thing, your highness," Mitch quipped, even though he thought, "What cosplay is that for, anyway?"
With the cap already in place, Todd put the wig on his friend's head, making sure everything was secure in the front. For this video to work, Mitch needed to look good and not like they'd put some random whatever on his head.
"Now, we have everything put together. We kept it simple for Miranda. Right, Chris?"
"Exactly. We wanted to keep it simple with the black A-line skirt with the white top. That let us have the accessories stand out with this colorful boho necklace and matching earrings and, as you'll soon see, the clutch."
"Now. We are ready to let Miranda see her look. Are you ready for the big reveal, girl?"
Steeling himself, Mitch said, "Bring it on, buddy." He closed his eyes as Todd spun his chair around. Cassie pulled the throw they'd used as a cover away from the mirror with a flourish.
Mitch opened his eyes and saw a face staring back at him that was actually kind of cute. He worried this whole time that Todd and Cassie were going to make him look overdone, like a drag performer. Nothing wrong with drag, but it wouldn't look right for the rest of the video shoot they had planned. This looked real.
"Wow," was all Mitch could get out. But in his head, he said. "I look real. Real. Really real, like, oh. Oh."
Weeks later...
The Dynamic Four channel was picking up subscribers. It had started with Todd and Mitch, but they added their friends simply to keep from spreading themselves too thin with the reaction videos, the ones where they tried things, the cosplay, the absurdism (like ending Miranda's debut by having them go out to a chain restaurant by the mall for dinner, only to have Chris show up in a bear suit).
The four were making plans for two days from now, where Kevin, a new addition behind the scenes with filming, props and such would join the team for a challenge video. This time, the four would be trying not just one, but three hot wings each coated in Big Nuke hot sauce from that show.
"I heard it tastes like pure gasoline," Chris said.
Picking up on the riff, Cassie said, "60 percent of the time, it works every time," before Mitch said, "It smells like Bigfoot's di-oh, um, hi mom!"
"Sorry to interrupt you guys, but just to let you know, Mitch, I left some money for you on the kitchen counter for pizza tonight," Brandy said. "My treat, since I know you've all been working really hard on your channel and because I'm meeting a friend from college, you remember Callie Wu, right dear? Anyway, y'all have a good night and good luck tomorrow. You're going to need it."
In unison, all five said in a sing-song voice, "Thanks, Miss Harper," making her laugh as she left.
"Actually, I have to take a rain check on the pizza, everybody," Kevin said. "There's some rom-com on tonight and Marisol wanted to watch it with me and--"
"D'awwww," Cassie said. "Go. Enjoy. Thanks for the help. It should go well tomorrow.
"Yeah. Thanks, man," Mitch said.
The remaining four pretty much had everything finished, so Mitch called in for the pizzas-- one pepperoni and one veggie special, with him making sure to order from the place that didn't put broccoli on it because, as he thought, "Why? Why would you put broccoli on a pizza? Who hurt you?"
As they ate, Todd seemed a little quieter than usual.
"Hey, what's up, man? A little worried about what Thursday's going to do to your digestive system?" Mitch asked.
"Ha! I'm thinking it'll be Chris. Remember the vindaloo?"
"Don't remind me," Chris laughed. "But I've been building up a tolerance since then,"
"But no, I'm fine, but, uh, there is something I need to talk to you guys about. There's something I've been wanting to change about the show for a while and I think it's time," Todd said.
"Let me guess. Twitch streams? Don't you think you should have run it by us before?" Mitch asked.
"Not a bad idea, but no. And normally, yes, but this is, well, it's more personal. I've really enjoyed the cosplay videos," he said.
"As you should," Cassie said. "You're better at makeup than I am, for one."
"Heh. Yeah, about that. The thing is, as much as I love it, it goes deeper than that. It's just that I've felt more comfortable femmed up for a long time. The Todd stuff feels like the actual cosplay. I've been seeing a counselor and the truth is, I'm transgender. And I'm going to be transitioning. I start HRT next week."
"Woah, I guess I can't say I'm surprised. I mean, it does seem like you've enjoyed the things we've done where you're not dressed as Todd, like Brooklyn Barbie, more," Chris said.
"This is my not surprised face," Cassie said.
"How'd you know? I thought-"
"Oh, a lot of little things, not just the makeup part, either," Casssie replied.
Todd nodded, then said. "So, at some point soon, I'll be appearing as Alyssa, in real life first, then the channel. I hope you understand. This is something I need to do for my own well being. If you don't want to be part of the show, I-"
"Come on, Alyssa," Cassie said. "We're the Dynamic Four. Just because you're going to look different and everything, that won't change. What kind of jerk would I be to quit because you came out?"
Chris nodded in agreement
"Same here," Mitch said, "But, you know, Alyssa. If I'd known about this, I'd have ordered you a salad."
"Jerk!" she replied, whipping a charred pepperoni cup from her slice at his head as they both laughed.
As they continued to eat and ask more questions about Alyssa came to terms with her identity and about when and how she wanted to make the reveal publicly, Mitch felt something, becoming uncomfortable as he realized what it was. The words sped into his brain. "Am I envious of her? Oh, God. I think I am."
Things moved forward quickly. Alyssa's onscreen wardrobe was quickly less Todd-like. Plus, the realization came that between their socials and for her in public, the changes were becoming rather noticeable.
The video -- "Dynamic Four's Newest Member" -- drew an uptick in views and response was more positive than not. Sure, there were the faux edgelords repeating the same hacky attack helicopter jokes and groomer lies, but they were outnumbered. Alyssa mostly avoided the comments, but she was heartened that the four had cultivated a fanbase where the terrible people were outnumbered.
Her family had been pretty cool with her for the most part (and the ones that hadn't been weren't really well liked by the other relatives anyway).
And the rest of the Four had great. Chris (who survived the Hot Nuke) still had funny ideas, never missing a beat. Cassie treated her like they'd been besties since high school, even trying to encourage her to double date. And Mitch was still, well, Mitch, ever the steady glue (which is why she liked him and wanted to start the channel together). He was almost exactly like he'd been before. Almost. While he was the same with the channel work, he seemed quieter when they hung out. He never expressed anything against her transition, but something was off.
"I hope he isn't thinking of leaving me, because that would hurt. Leaving the channel. That's it. The channel," she thought.
Alyssa wasn't the only one to notice that Mitch hadn't been quite himself lately. His mother, Brandy, had seen him bloom in a lot of ways since she and his father had divorced. It hadn't hurt that she got the house, which turned out to be the perfect size for the setup he and Alyssa needed when they started the channel.
Rod was a dutiful enough father, but living on the other side of the country made it much more difficult for him to pester his son about not being a jock.
In the last year, she'd begun to have suspicions that maybe Mitch was gay. She wouldn't have been surprised if he'd started dating Alyssa when she was Todd. But, still, maybe gay or something else. She'd learned some things, but didn't let Mitch know that she knew. Her instinct told her not to push, so she just tried to make sure things were always welcoming. But it was really difficult waiting for her child to decide that it was time for whatever walls they had to come down.
Mitch was doing some final editing on the channel's year-end videos, basically its version of clip shows. They'd shot them earlier in December and he was putting the final touches on them so they'd be ready to upload daily the last week of the month.
It was good to have time alone because it allowed some all-too-rare time to think. Mitch couldn't help but notice how Alyssa was really coming into her own since she'd come out. She'd been really good before. Todd was, in a lot of ways who he wished he was -- more fearless, quick on his feet, full of ideas, just likable. He always felt like the mid version, like if you ordered Todd off Wish.
Now? Seeing Alyssa seem even more alive, "I'm Alyssa off Wish," the nameless young woman said, completing the thought aloud. "I don't even have a name for myself. Melinda was Cassie's idea, meant as a joke. I need a name for me, but I can't pick one. How pathetic is that?"
For her, seeing Alyssa's gender explorations had awakened what had been dormant in her since Dad was still in the house. And she was thrilled for Alyssa coming out and living her best life, but she was starting to feel left behind.
It also hadn't helped that, concurrently, she'd also started to crush pretty hard on Alyssa. But Alyssa preferred guys and the girl knew she couldn't be a guy much longer. Not to mention it would screw things up, both for the groove they were in as friends and for the channel.
Between the sinking feeling that she'd also need to come out and that crush, she felt so much more awkward around Alyssa.
"And how do I tell Mom?" the nameless girl thought. "She's awesome, but, still, I've been her only child, her son. I have that stash of clothes, but it's not like I've been able to let her see me. It took a long time for me to stop fearing seeing myself."
She finally finished the videos. She lined them up in order so it would only take seconds for her to upload one per day.
And with that out of the way, she started to search baby names the year she was born. Maybe something would jump out. Something had to, right?
New Year's Eve
The Four were set to get together to end the year at Alyssa's place. She picked up her phone and texted Mitch to see when he'd get his cute self there.
"Cute? I mean, he is, but I can't think of him that way, especially when the channel's going so well," Alyssa said to herself. "It wasn't like we have a no-dating rule, it's just that two of us have been single the whole time and Chris and Cassie have their own partners. And I have ideas for solo videos for Mitch, which he's always been reluctant to do. How would that look if we start dating and I say, 'Hey, let's give my boyfriend a solo spotlight?' Dammit Alyssa, just text him and leave the rest for now."
A few miles away, a cellphone buzzed, picked up by a mentally tired hand.
"Hey, Mitch. When r u coming?"
"Don't know. Might skip. Not feeling well."
"U sure?"
"Think so. Need rest."
"Bummer. We'll miss you."
"Sorry, catch up tomorrow?"
"Okay. Get better."
"Thanks. Have fun."
Audrey shut off her cell phone. She felt fine. It's just, she didn't want to be around people right now.
"Mitch. I'm starting to dislike that name. I wish I could tell her that it's Audrey now," she thought.
There'd been a list, she crossed most of them off. When she was down to a few, she waited until she was alone, went to the bathroom, looked in the mirror and said, "Hi, I'm --" with each name. When she hit Audrey, she knew.
But she needed to get out of the house for a while. She traded her T-shirt for a hoodie, then made her way towards the door.
"Hey, kiddo. You going over to Alyssa's?" Brandy asked.
"Not yet, "Audrey said. "I just need to go for a walk and think."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Audrey said, a little more forcefully than she'd intended, hoping her mom didn't notice. "Nothing major. You know, sometimes I like to go to the beach, it helps take away the clutter in my head."
Brandy sighed, "Okay, just don't take too long, okay?"
"I won't, Mom," Audrey said, giving her mom a loving wave as she got to the door.
"Stay safe," Brandy said.
"You stay safe, too, Mom."
Nobody else was due to arrive for a while yet and her roommate Grace was with her family, Alyssa thought back to that text exchange. This wasn't like Mitch.
"Eh, screw it. I'm going to check up on him," she thought.
"Hey, Brandy. I thought I'd come check up on Mitch. Is he okay?"
"Yeah, sure he is. What do you mean?"
"Well, I texted him a while ago to see what time he was coming over and he said he was feeling a little sick and couldn't make it."
"That can't be. He would have told me. He's fine. Physically, at least," Brandy sighed. "Alyssa, you're a good friend to him. I'm concerned. He's been off for a while. Like, he's here and still does all the right things, but it's like something's bothering him, but he can't tell me."
"I thought I was the only one. Something's been off with him, since, well, ever since I came out to him, like he was a pod person from that old movie. I he doesn't do anything, because, because I don't think I could bear it if he-"
"No, no, Alyssa. I don't think it's anything drastic," Brandy said, noting the concern in Alyssa's face. "He said he wanted to walk and think. I bet you remember where."
Alyssa knew exactly where. The beach, probably the pier next to that seafood shack, Captain Ron's. He'd gone there since his mom felt he was old enough to go there safely on his own.
"I do, Brandy. I'll go down there and find him to see what's up. You're a good Mom, you know. He'll drop his guard around you soon enough," Alyssa said.
"And you're a great friend, Alyssa. Mitch is lucky to have you in his life. Really lucky," Brandy said.
Audrey had indeed wound up at the pier, nibbling on some fries and tartar sauce from Captain Ron's as she looked out the ocean coming in.
This was her place. She used to love hanging out on the beach with Mom and Dad, then just Mom. But her mind was very much on the present.
She was past asking herself why this happened to her. There was no "why" to it. She just was trans, as Alyssa was, too. And she knew what she needed to do. She just didn't know how.
The weather had started to turn, which helped make sure the seagulls weren't interested in stealing a fry or two. She looked and saw some clouds coming in. Realizing she wouldn't make it home before it started, she made her way up to the park across the street from Beach Drive.
She made it under a covered picnic shelter just before the rains started. "There's no one else here. Perfect," she thought. She sat on the top of the wooden picnic table then scootched herself into position, laid back, pulled the top of the hood over the top of eyes and listened to the rain hit the ceiling.
Now there was nothing but the sounds of steady rain pelting the roof and what was going through her brain.
Tomorrow's the first day of a New Year, as good a time to commit to seeing this through. "All those New Year's resolutions people don't follow up on, that can't be me," she thought. "It's time to get serious about being who I really am and maybe tell Alyssa I love- No, Audrey. One thing at a time. One thing at a time. Just be you."
She closed her eyes and, with that falling rain sound, she began to zone out, in a state awake, but unaware.
A few minutes later, sensing something or someone, Audrey opened her eyes and saw a woman, lifted the edge of the hoodie above her eyes and realized it was one very soaked and concerned-looking Alyssa.
"Look at this. It's a miracle. First he was too sick and now he's cured. Praise the Gods!," she said.
"Sorry, Alyssa. I just needed some time alone," Audrey said.
"Well, you could have just said that and I'd have understood. But, no, you keep it to yourself, like you've been doing for months. I've noticed it. Your mom's noticed it. If I asked Cassie and Chris, I'd bet they have, too. Kevin, even!"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Audrey said unconvincingly.
"Come on, Mitch. We've known each other for how long? You don't expect me to buy that," Alyssa said, pausing for a moment. "Your mom's known you longer than that. If you can't trust us, who else are you supposed to trust? We're as safe a space as you can get."
"I know. It's just-"
"Mitch. You frustrate me so much. You know I was going to pitch you on doing some solo videos on the channel tonight. But now.."
"It's just as well."
"Why would you say that?" a surprised Alyssa asked.
"I can, but, I can't do more Mitch stuff."
"Why? You'd be great at that. The channel views-"
"It's not that I can't do the content. It's that, God, why is this so hard?"
"What is? Mitch, you can tell me."
Audrey hung her head and almost inaudibly said, "Because I'm not Mitch."
"What did you say?"
"Aaarrrgh! I can't be Mitch, because I'm trans, too!"
Alyssa was taken aback. "You're kidding!"
"Do I look like I'm kidding? Jeez! You said you and mom and everybody else in the world noticed something was up with me!"
"Sorry, I,I wasn't expecting this. I mean, I'm sorry. But you never," Alyssa said. "When we did the Making Up Mitch video, you looked like we'd asked Cam Murphy, the quarterback our senior year whose vocabulary was at least 50 percent 'bro' or 'dude', to do it."
"No, it wasn't that type of discomfort," Audrey said. "I was afraid, afraid everybody would know, that they'd see it wasn't a bit. You and Cassie did too good of a job on me. That was the first time I saw me, Audrey. It was my true self looking back at me. Alyssa, I've never been so scared in my life."
"Oh, no. I didn't mean to."
"No, it's okay. If it hadn't been then, it would have something else, and sooner rather than later. Besides, we sometimes have to suffer for our art, right?"
"You looked so awkward trying to walk in those heels."
"Faked it. I mean, those weren't the most practical pair, but I have a better walk than that."
"So, Audrey, does this mean we have to get ready for the 'Dynamic Four's Next Member' sequel? It'll be the first Audrey video, whenever you're ready."
"Okay. I think I can do that, but I probably should tell Mom first."
"You think?"
If Audrey had a charred pepperoni cup, she'd have nailed Alyssa with the head shot. "It's going to be a shock," she said. "I mean, I look like this. I always look like this."
"Loose fitting shirts, because you don't like seeing your body, right? I know that feeling. Remember how I used to dress until we started the Dynamic Two?"
"Yeah, but then you sprinted past me when Alyssa started to emerge."
Alyssa said, "It's not a race, you know. You're going your own pace," before raising an eyebrow and saying, "That said, why don't we start catching you up, let your mom meet the real you? She probably knows. Moms usually do. I mean, my mom knew. And my parents had seen me dress as at least three different Harley Quinns when I came out, but your Mom just needs to see one Audrey Harper. Come on, girl. We have to get you ready for your debut."
It didn't take long for Alyssa to call Cassie and over as an on-the-fly trained makeover specialist. And she had just the wig in mind, one she hadn't used for the channel yet, but it was a reddish brown that would look perfect on Audrey.
As Alyssa reached for the keys to start her car, Audrey said, "Whew. At least I didn't tell you I had a crush on y-," suddenly realizing she said it out loud instead of thinking it. "Shit.".
"Did I just hear what I think you said?"
Audrey tried to keep it together, "I guess I did. I've been thinking about it ever since you started to explore your gender, especially seeing you take off emotionally as Alyssa. I hope I didn't just make it all awkward and messed up. Really, it's okay if you don't feel the same way towards me."
Alyssa, after a pause, said, "Well, damn. You just moved up the timetable on my New Year's Resolution."
"What's that?" Audrey asked.
"To tell you I love you."
As far as first kisses go, Alyssa and Audrey had no complaints. Nor did they with the second or third. The rest would have to wait. They had a coming out to make happen.
Audrey had texted Brandy, letting her know she was with Alyssa and that they'd stop back by the house a bit later.
Alyssa knocked on the door with Audrey out of view. "Hi, Brandy. We're back. Can I come in? Mitch should be here in a minute."
As Alyssa stepped in to follow Audrey's mom, she stopped, looked at her new girlfriend and mouthed "Mitch. Ewww" and winked.
As Brandy went into the kitchen, the front door opened. Screening Brandy's view, Alyssa motioned Audrey in, then let her pass, whispering, "Good luck. I'll be right here if you need me."
Audrey, in a long red, pleated skirt, black top, the shoulder-length hair and suitable makeup, slowly stepped into her mother's view.
"Mom, I know you've been worried about me and, well, I have something to tell you."
Brandy sized up her daughter and said, "First, I love you. Second, you're beautiful. Third, I have one question -- 'Is this part-time or permanent?'"
"Permanent," Audrey said.
"Great. Now, why don't you and Alyssa stay here and invite your friends over to celebrate New Year's Eve here? I picked up some things while you were gone."
"That's it?!?!?!?"
"What do you mean?"
"Your only son comes and tells you she's actually your daughter and you're planning Hors d'oeuvres? Why aren't you y-" Audrey said.
"Look, kiddo. If you want me to pretend to be surprised, I can. I figured that it had something to do with your sexuality, gender or both. By the way, you don't have to hide your things anymore. We can clear out closet space for them and everything else you'll need."
"I don't know what to say."
Brandy came over and gave Audrey the hug she'd dreamed of getting from her mom. "I love you, look, I can't just call you sweetie or kiddo all the time. What's my daughter's name?"
"Audrey. It's Audrey. I don't have a middle name yet."
"Does Diane work? Your father and I would have named you after my mother if we'd known you were a girl."
"Audrey Diane Harper. I, I like that. But Dad-"
"Don't worry about your father. He may be clueless sometimes, but he won't get this wrong. You know, when I woke up, I really did have a feeling that you might have something important to tell me today. Oh and Alyssa, you can come back in."
"Cool. By the way I heard you, everybody's on on their way."
"Great, guess I'd better get the rest ready."
"We can help," Audrey said as she and Alyssa locked hands."Actually, Mom. It's two things I needed to tell you."
Brandy smiled and said, "Audrey, I thought you two were going to be the first thing."
With that, Audrey and Alyssa blushed simultaneously.
"Come on, you two," Brandy said. "We have a new year to get ready for."
Clothes are just clothes, right? It's all just a joke, right? For Miles Carlson? Maybe. Maybe not.
Late Christmas
By Marissa Lynn
As far as conventions go, this one was going well, at least Miles thought so. He picked up some cool finds and was getting compliments on his costume.
For something different, he was dressed as Asuka from one of his favorite anime series, "Sun Runner."
His oldest sister, Andrea, who was somewhere around here dressed as Ellen Ripley, helped a bit with the costume, but he'd done his own makeup after practicing at home. A guy needs to be able to do things for himself, right?
It wasn't the best cosplay there, but he'd gotten his share of compliments. As the day was winding down, he found himself near a beverage concession, oblivious to a not unattractive Han Solo behind him.
"Nice Asuka, kid."
Miles turned around, "Kid? You look like you're the same age I am." ("Why is my voice higher?")
"Probably, but the point still stands."
"Thanks, I wanted to get it right. You carry Solo well."
"Well, it's not like it's as involved as your costume."
"No, but you seem to have the attitude for it."
"I do try. I'm not a scoundrel in real life, Princess, but I could play one on TV."
"Princess? I think you might be overestimating your chances."
"Never tell me the odds."
Minutes later, Miles and Han had found what passed for a more secluded area, the conversation having grown more flirtatious.
"Well, I am supposed to have a roguish quality," Han said.
"I don't know if I'd go that far."
"Oof."
"But you still have a certain charm," Miles said, moving forward to kiss him. ("This is nice")
"Ah-ahem," came a nearby voice.
"Oh, um, hi, Andrea."
"Look, sis. Sorry to break things up, but you know Mom and Dad if we show up too late. Cody's on his way to the car."
"I'm so sorry, I've got to go, um-"
"Han is good enough. Safe travels, Princess."
Andrea tried to give Miles the third degree before they met up with Cody, Miles' twin brother who'd stuck with jeans and a Daredevil T-shirt.
"What was that about? You were kissing a guy?
"Well, it felt like it was in character."
"They aren't even in the same franchise. How would they even meet?"
"It was just a little fun. It didn't mean anything."
"Fine, just fix your lipstick. You don't want that grief from Mom and Dad."
"What grief? I'd probably get a second 'Stay Safe' talk."
"Especially if they knew you were kissing a-"
"Look, I kissed a boy, but in character. I'm still straight, okay?"
Andrea wanted to say more, but thought better of it, waving at Cody as she approached and Miles redid his lipstick.
The Present Day
"Okay, I think we've given people enough last minute shopping," Erica Davis said. "Lock the doors and be ready to let the stragglers out."
"Got it," Luke said. "You check to make sure nothing's out of place, Miles?"
"Already working on it," he said, giving the vinyl section a once-over. He glanced to make sure nothing was obviously in the wrong section, as tempting as it had been yesterday to leave that Kid Rock album in the Comedy section.
He paused to straighten out a Florence & The Machine album, thinking, "I really like that dress, it wouldn't look good on me, though. And even though I haven't got it cut in a while, my hair isn't nearly long eno-"
"Hey there, Carlson. What's on your mind, besides not getting us out of here?" Mikayla said.
"Um, nothing."
"I just cashed out my last customer. Let me help you."
Mikayla Hinrichs was, along with Luke Castino, Miles' two best friends at The Orchard, the music store Erica owned where they all worked. Mikayla was tall, dark-haired and beautiful in that effortless way. She could have been one of those Queen Bee types in high school, if their grade school equivalents hadn't taught her in her awkward years that life's too short to be a jerk.
If you looked up the word "amiable" in the dictionary, you'd see the definition of the word "amiable", which certainly fit Luke, a guy with brown hair that got wavy when he didn't cut it for a while. He and Miles enjoyed gaming together, but he didn't know how much his friend enjoyed the cosplay. Miles thought it would overplay the joke if he did.
"Hey! How about this outfit?" Mikayla asked, holding up the cover of some recent pop record. "Think I could pull it off?"
Miles pondered. "Oh, yeah. Maybe a different belt, but totally. More than I could."
"Oh, really?"
"I mean, for one thing, I'm not in high school anymore. For another, I don't have the legs for it. And third, I'm a guy, remember?"
"Clothes are clothes, Carlson. You know that right?"
"I do, but come on, me as a woman? That's hilarious."
Mikayla nodded politely, moving on to the CD section, figuring it was better to do that than to push the matter, or ask Miles what ladies section he got his jeans from.
Satisfied that things were taken care of, Miles, Mikala and Luke made their way to leave. "Alright, you three, great job today," Erica said. "Now, I want you to enjoy the rest of the day and the holiday tomorrow. Don't even think about this place. Until you get back on Tuesday, that is."
On their way through the parking lot, they discussed their holiday plans with their respective families, although Miles was lying about his. He was going to beg off from going home. He loved his family, but they could be a lot this time of year. He got in his car first, wishing them a great day off.
"Well, Mikayla. Hope you have a good one, too. Going to your boyfriend's place, too?"
"No, Tevin and I figured it was best to do New Year's with them. At least you don't have that problem."
"Not now, anyway. Maybe next year."
"You know, maybe your problem is that you're too picky."
"It's not being picky. It's being selective."
"Okay, fine. It's just you deserve a little happiness, you know. Have a good one!"
Miles dragged himself, scraggly-haired, but otherwise immaculately groomed, to his apartment. He had the place to himself as Heather, his new roommate, was out of town. He followed through on his plans for a quiet night -- dinner of ramyun from H-Mart doctored up with egg and leftover rotisserie chicken and absentmindedly watching TV and occasionally looking at the internet on his phone.
"This is the glamorous life," he laughed to himself as he finished a Sapporo to wash down the last of the ramen, "Hashtag goals."
He fell asleep in the chair, phone plugged in, the tab open to Googling "LGBTQ therapists in my area" because that would be funny, if, you know, right?
Christmas
"I suppose I should get dressed at some point," Miles thought.
He'd successfully feigned being under the weather, so he had the day to himself. Still, spending the day in shorts and a Sun Runner T-shirt seemed a little lazy, even if the highlight of the day was probably going to be a little gaming.
As a matter of fact, not a bad idea, fire-up one of his favorite first-person shooters and play as Shira. She had the most accumulated gear and was a fun character to play.
Absent-mindedly, he made himself a sandwich. He took a bite, realizing his mistake. "Girl, you forgot the mustard," he joked.
Coming back with the condiment, he took the corner a little too sharply, starting to trip over the couch. As he tried to steady himself, he lost grip on the jar, which proceeded to hit the floor. Broken glass and mustard splattered all over the sweater and jeans he intended to wear.
"Shit! Now I need to do laundry. Forget it, it's Christmas. I can do it tomorrow night, since I still have something for work."
As Miles cleaned up the mustard and made sure the glass was picked up, he thought, "No reason not to get dressed anyway."
Much of what he had wasn't practical for hanging out, but there was that Peggy Carter costume. That could work, maybe pair it with the Jean Grey wig.
It wasn't his first choice of outfit, but it didn't take long and Miles had the look done, from the smart skirt to the sharp hat and the red matte lip. "Get yourself a man who can do this," he quipped as he looked in the mirror.
He fielded a few phone calls ("Yes, Mom. I've got chicken noodle soup") and texts from family, then he got bored with the video games.
His thoughts turned to the very family he was avoiding. His parents, Elizabeth and Eddie, were pretty standup, roll with it types -- Mom, an American history teacher, Dad, working in banking. Andrea, ever patient, went into social work. Kristen felt like a female version of him, only a lot freer. Cody? He could never get a read on his fraternal twin. They always got along well enough. It's not like he was a stereotypical jock. He ran cross country and track, but was more interested in his music and with the travel that entailed, they didn't talk much these days.
"And here I am, the square peg in the round hole."
He couldn't have Cody's goatee, the hair removal took care of that.
"And what's the problem with caring about grooming?"
I mean, sure, the lack of facial hair made the costumes easier to pull off, the better to get in character. Clothes are clothes, right? And so are skin care products and shampoos. The ones with the pretty packaging work and smell better. No big deal.
Why be close-minded?
It's why he volunteered when he could at the local LGBTQ center and helped out at Pride last summer. They were pretty much all friendly and relatable, especially Tonya, the woman running the trans group's booth.
"She even said if I had questions, I could just ask. I didn't, but it was nice of her to offer and it was almost like hanging out at a chill family gathering."
Later that week
"Miles, can you step into my office for a second?"
"Sure, Erica. What's up?"
"Look, you have some paid vacation days left. You know they don't carry over, right?"
"I don't have a problem with that."
"Well, I do. Miles, you're doing great work. But I can tell you need a little more time off, whether you admit it or not. So, I'm ordering you to take from the rest of today until next week off. I've got your shifts covered."
Miles started to protest, but thought better of it. As he went to go to the back room to clock out and grab his coat, he saw his younger sister, Kristen.
"Hey, Miley! I'm just here to get something for Dad for his birthday. Your buddy Luke has graciously offered to help me find it," she said.
"Cool. Erica just ordered me on vacation the rest of the week, so I'm off the clock."
"Perfect timing! Mom and Dad have been saying that they want you there for New Year's Eve, since you missed Christmas. Congratulations on your miraculous recovery, by the way."
"Ugh. I'm not getting out of this, am I?"
"Nope. I believe Andrea and Cody are under orders to kidnap you."
"Fine, it's not that I don't love you all. I just need some time to be myself, I mean, for myself. I'll be there. You can call off the Carlson family extraction team. See you then."
"Good luck, Miles. Maybe it'll go better than you think," Luke said.
"Maybe. Catch you later."
One day alone with his thoughts was one thing, but Miles really didn't need four more. He only needed to do laundry once, which it's not like he could wear the Carter-Grey outfit all week. He'd need more clothes like that. Isabella, the roommate he'd had before would have gone shopping, offered him tips. Maybe Heather could-
"Don't be silly, Miles."
Sleep became harder to come by as he got closer to being back home. His schedule hadn't been any worse than normal, but he felt like he'd been asked to run a marathon backwards.
New Year's Eve
"Hey, Miles! What's up?"
"Unnnnh. Heather? You're early."
"And you're wearing a skirt. Nice choice. Might want to clean the mascara off a bit better though," she said before going into her room and closing the door to change.
"Oh, um, it's just something for fun. I do cosplay sometimes."
"God, could this be any more awkward?" Miles thought.
"Oh hey, sis. And you must be Miles."
"Is that...Han?"
"Yeah, um. Hi," he said, sitting up, straightening out the skirt and reflexively crossing his legs.
"The people we were hanging out with had a sudden change of plans, so I thought I'd let my sister drop off a few things. I'm Ian, by the way."
"Hey. Yeah. This is embarrassing.'
"It shouldn't be. I mean, it's not like it's the wrong color on you or anything," Ian said, pausing before adding in a quieter voice. "You chose well, Asuka."
"Oh, God. You remember."
"Well, it's hard to forget a pretty princess, especially when that's not something that happens to me every convention. Or any other one, for that matter."
"And you knew that I was-"
"I suspected it, but I didn't mind. It wasn't a deal breaker, since someone's gender doesn't matter when I'm attracted to them. Honestly, I thought you were farther along than this, given how natural you were at it."
"Yeah, um well, it's just for fun or was just for fun. I don't know anymore."
"That's okay. Sometimes, it takes people time to figure things out for themselves or get to the point where they accept the answers. We're all different. You'll get there."
A more casually dressed Heather emerged with an overnight bag. She said, "I see you've met my brother. Don't worry, I won't try to set you up, he's not single. You're welcome to join us."
"Actually, I'm going to my parents' place, since I missed Christmas."
"Cool. Well, we're off. And Miles, if you need any tips or you want to go shopping, I'm in!"
As she walked out the door. Miles heard a flush, followed by the sound of water from the faucet.
Ian emerged from the restroom as Miles stood up.
"It was great meeting you. Again," he said.
"Heather was right. She does have a cool roommate," Ian said as he turned the handshake into a hug, quietly adding, "Don't sweat the other stuff too much. The answers will be there when you're ready."
As he pulled away, walking towards the door, he said, "As someone wise I knew once said, 'Do or do not, there is no try.'"
Miles rolled his eyes and started laughing. "Real original, Pan Solo."
"Ha! Well played, Princess. Guess that's canon now. Later!"
Miles got ready to meet the family. The skirt was out, too impractical for this weather and, because, um, reasons.
He settled on clean jeans and a brown sweater from the same section of the store ("The neckline feels less restrictive. It's a comfort thing," he'd reasoned at the time).
Playing music at a higher volume than usual and lip-synching along to the likes of Caroline Polachek kept Miles occupied enough on the drive to keep any other thoughts at bay.
Upon arrival, Miles was hit with small talk, food and greetings from the family and his parents' cats, Simba and Luna. He was relaxed, to a point, when Elizabeth said, "Alright, we've postponed your Christmas long enough. Let's get to the presents, handing her husband the first one.
Eddie spoke first. "Well, Miles. I just want to say that it's very good what you're doing for yourself."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I'm very proud of you and, well, here."
Miles opened the box, revealing its contents to be a luxurious bathrobe in pastel pink.
"Uh, thanks, Dad. It's very nice."
"My turn," Cody said. "I feel bad we haven't talked as much lately. But you've always supported my music, which I hope you'll do when it comes time to make the Employee's Picks section. Seriously, though, I've always been glad to have you as a sibling and glad we weren't identical,so we didn't get forced to dress alike." As Miles opened the box, Cody added. "Speaking of which..."
Miles pulled out a nice floral pattern dress, eking out a pleasant, but quiet "Thanks, Cody."
"What the hell's happening here?"
Kristen couldn't wait. "Here, Miley! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! figured you were overdue."
Miles, in a mix of confusion, discomfort and anticipation, tore off the paper to reveal an eyeshadow kit with a Sephora gift card attached.
"Thanks, sis"
"Breathe. Just breathe. It's just a joke, right. Unless it's not. It's not. Shit. Breathe."
Before Andrea could go next, Simba came sprinting into the living room, deciding now was a good time to try scaling the Christmas tree, which went down in Cody's direction, startling him into spilling cocoa on to himself.
Simba had somehow snagged one of the presents on its collar and took off for the kitchen. The closest to him, Miles got up and gave chase. As he was about to corner the felonious feline, he hit a spot where an ice cube had melted and began to slip. He tried to break his fall, but slipped backwards.
He landed in a seated position, having landed against the bottom cupboards with enough to tip a large bowl over on top of him, a bowl that hadn't been empty as it contained a frosting Elizabeth was making.
Miles was more stunned than hurt, as he couldn't see. The bowl was now an oversized hat, its contents all over him.
Cody arrived next: "Miles! You okay?"
As the others followed, they were greeted by the vision of Miles, removing the bowl from his head, dissolving into uncontrollable laughter. Elizabeth's unfinished strawberry-coconut frosting was everywhere, including covering him from his head down in pink goo.
When Miles was finally able to stop laughing, the words came out: "Yeah. I'm fine. I get it, universe. You got pink all over me. You win. I'm a woman," she said before laughing even more.
Cody and Eddie helped her up and got her to a chair at the kitchen table. Andrea brought over a towel.
"Got it!" Eddie said from the living room, having gotten a hold of Simba long enough to get the present (a necklace) away from him.
Kristen spoke up. "You serious? You're not just saying that? You're out?"
The weight of what Miles had said hit her as hard as the relief. "Yeah, I did. HoIy shit. I can't believe it took me making myself a dessert to crack my egg, but here we are."
Cody said, "I thought she already was. Wasn't that the point of all this? Oh, no. I'm sorry, sis."
Miles said, "It's okay, Cody. No, I wasn't out. I mean, I was thrilled with the presents, but it was kind of scary. I know I've passed all this stuff off as a joke, but..."
"Oh, Miley. I'd hug you, but, you know. Oh, who cares?" Kristen said as she leaned in to hug her recently pink and sticky sister.
"Love you, Kristen. Just one thing. I can't lie. It felt nice when you called me Miley, but, for the record, it's Milla."
Andrea flashed back to another convention costume her sister wore, asking, "Are you sure it's not Alice?"
"That's the character. I'm me," Milla said, not even thinking to add "just joking" anymore.
Elizabeth said, "Well since my daughter teamed up with Simba, I have to come up with something else for the cake. I'll clean up here and get started on that. Andrea and Kristen? Why don't you take Milla upstairs and get her fixed up? The rest of the presents should help with her look. And, by the way Milla, there are a couple gift certificates to help you augment and if you don't mind your mother tagging along..."
"I think I'd like that, Mom."
"Right," Elizabeth smiled. "Now, go on and get ready. Oh, and just to be sure, pronouns?"
"She/her, thanks."
"I just said that out loud. It feels right, but what is my life?"
Before they started, Andrea took Milla aside. "Say, my girlfriend and I have talked about you. She said there might be a time you'd need this and I think it's now."
Milla read the card, which said,"Dana McCray, LGBTQ-friendly, Specialty: Gender Issues" with a number.
"By the way, Tonya says Dr. McCray is really good."
"Tonya? That Tonya?"
"Yes, that Tonya. The only reason you didn't know is because you've been keeping more to yourself these last few months."
All things considered, it didn't take long, once Milla showered off the goo. Thanks to Andrea, the sizing was right. The dress proved to be a flattering choice, especially with the breast forms, paired with stylishly comfortable flats. Milla did her own makeup, stopped only a couple times by Kristen to keep her from veering into overdone cosplay.
"Get yourself a girl who can do this," Milla thought.
Kristen and Cody had cleaned up by the time Milla had finished, so there were lots of photos to be taken -- the twins, Milla with her sisters, with the cats, the whole family together.
"Oh, I should text Mikayla and Luke."
Milla messaged Mikayla first, sending her a photo of herself with Andrea and Kristen.
"Hey, do me a favor, please. Update your contacts. Change "Miles" to Milla."
"OMG! You're joking, right?"
"No. Not this time."
"Milla! About f-ing time!"
"Thanks!"
"Girl, we have to catch up. But I suspect you're busy with fam. Talk soon. Happy for you. Congrats!!! And updated, Milla!"
The doorbell rang. "I've got that!" Kristen said.
Milla turned her attention back to her phone, about to text --"Luke?!?!?"
"Hey. It turned out my plans for tonight fell through and your sister said I could come over, if that's cool with you?"
"Yeah. I guess so, but-"
"Great. I haven't seen all your cosplays, but this one's new."
"Actually, I'm not-"
"Wait. I've got it. You're dressed as Milla. And it's not a costume."
"Oh, you jerk! How'd you know?"
"Kristen texted me, remember? She thought it would be good to give me a heads up. By the way, I got you something. Sorry I wasn't able to wrap it."
She opened the box, revealing three pairs of large hoop earrings.
He said, "I know you don't have your ears pierced yet, but you will. Your game characters always had them."
"Thanks that's really sweet of you ("How'd he notice?")
By this point, the two had the room to themselves. Truth be told, Milla was glad to have a friend with her, too, even though the atmosphere in the room felt different.
"Are you okay with this? I mean, isn't this a little weird to you?"
"Not really. I mean, you finally being out is a new wrinkle, but it's not weird. I mean, clothes are clothes and all, but come on, I mean, if I suspected, anyone could."
"But I always said I was a guy."
"You did and I respected that. All of us at the Orchard have, because it was up to you to tell us different. But there were signs. When was the last time you cosplayed as a guy? And the games. You always choose a girl fighter."
"But-"
"Come on, when we played Madden, you always had a created player on your team named 'Ima Girl.'"
"That was just a joke."
"Some jokes have some truth to them, like they're jokes, but not really? And besides, you were 'just joking' a lot. Like, a lot."
Milla sighed, "I suppose I was. I figured if I kept saying it, it was true, that I could convince myself it was. I did. For a while."
With that, the dam burst. Shields down for the first time in forever, tears flowed. Unsure at first, Luke moved over and sat next to Milla to comfort her. She instinctively moved into an embrace, crying into his arms.
Calming down, she pulled away, saying, "Sorry."
"No need to be. I've never had issues with my gender, but I imagine if I did and I'd kept it to myself, that would be pretty tough."
"It's not if you ignore it enough, but it's hitting me how much of a weight I was carrying. God, I must look like a rabid trash panda now."
"No, you still look good, but you might want to do a little touchup."
"Yeah. I can fix that up."
As she repaired her makeup, Elizabeth came in. "Are you okay, Milla?"
"Yes, Mom. I am."
"Okay, just checking. We're going to have some snacks ready soon when you and your...friend are ready to join us," Elizabeth said, giving Luke a look.
Focused on makeup repair, Milla missed her mom's tone, saying, "Great! We'll be out soon." A short time later, she was pleased.
She turned around. "There. What do you think?"
"Well, you looked beautiful before, but you do clean up nicely."
"I so wasn't. My eyes were a mess and-"
"Not that. Before. Look, maybe you're not the only one who took a while to realize things. It's just, I've always liked hanging out with you and maybe we can go out to dinner or something."
"Are you sure you want to do that? People might think we're dating. Haha."
"Yes. And?"
"You're serious?
"Why wouldn't I be? We've enjoyed hanging out before, Milla. Why couldn't we do it on a date?"
"But I've only been a woman for less than a day."
"You've only been OUT as a woman for less than a day. Not that it mattered. I was preparing myself to ask Miles out. But I don't have to now. And besides, I thought you were going to cut back on 'just joking.'"
Milla smiled, sighed in relief and said, "Point taken. I think I'd very much like the idea of dating you, Luke. There's just one way to make sure."
"What's that?"
She stepped forward to kiss him on his left cheek as he instinctively thought she was going to kiss him on the right, meeting in the middle in a lingering, happy accident.
Looking quite relieved himself, Luke said, "You seem pretty convinced."
"I am, of a lot of things. I mean, after all, you're not picky, you're selective."
"I am, but how'd you- Mikayla told you?"
"Girls talk," Milla winked. "Look, what do you say we join my family before they start talking."
"They probably are already. I'm good with that. You?"
"Definitely. And I'm serious."
As they made their way to join the others, she smiled to herself. "I kissed a guy. I'm still straight, just not in the way I thought."
The rest of the day was a blur of good spirits. Elizabeth salvaged the cake with some candied pineapple to go with the coconut. Tanya arrived later, of course wanting details from Milla, and teasingly calling her Little Miss Humpty Dumpty before reassuring her about Dr. McCray.
The whole time, Milla had been so caught up that she hadn't realized that she didn't need to remind herself to breathe.
It was indeed clear to the rest of the family that Milla and Luke were well on their way to becoming an item, given the hand-holding and her putting his head on his shoulder as they watched one of the New Year's Eve shows.
She resolved to learn how to put better costumes together, because soon enough, she'd have to adjust them to the physical changes. But that was a small part of the big picture. She was going to make this her truest, best year yet.
No joke.
Julia's known only to herself, as Steven to the rest of the world. Through circumstances out of her control, she becomes neither. Can she make things right? Can she get back home?
Like It's Your Last
By Marissa Lynn
2023 had not been a year full of highlights for Steven Kelly.
Not when the biggest moment was the breakup of his five-year relationship. They'd been drifting for a while. Ultimately, Kara had reached a point where she couldn't handle his dressing, not the fact that he did it, but the increasing frequency.
As he walked to grab a late lunch, he thought, "It's like she wasn't angry, but, what, supportive? She looked right at me and said, 'Truth is, I'm not a lesbian and, to be honest, neither are you.'
"What was that supposed to mean?"
As Steven reached the place, he saw an older man with a gray beard outside. He looked lost.
"Excuse me, sir. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Thank you for asking. It's just today's a tough day. It's full of reminders. But I'll be okay."
"Alright, good luck," Steven said, but as he grabbed the door handle, he looked back and said, "Say, how about I buy you lunch? At least you won't be hungry."
The man weighed his options, but seeing Steven's kind face, he said, "That sounds good, actually. Thank you."
The two sat down and as Steven enjoyed his French dip and the man, who'd introduced himself as Bradley, took bites of his tuna melt, they conversed about the ongoing trials in Manhattan and the sorry state of the Jets.
Steven finally bit the bullet. "I'm sorry for those memories, Bradley. I know it's not much, but I wish things hadn't happened to you."
"I do, too," Bradley paused. "21 years ago today, I lost the love of my life. She was special. Beyond special, really. And just like that-"
He started crying and couldn't finish the thought.
"I'm sorry for bringing it up."
"Don't be. What happened isn't your fault. You're a kind person offering a nice meal to a lonely man. At the risk of changing the subject, what's your story?"
"There really isn't one," Steven said as he relayed the short version -- that he had a good job and a reasonably nice life, that none of his relationships had worked out (omitting that Julia's appearances were always at least a factor).
"It still sounds like you wish different things had happened for you."
"Maybe when I was younger, but there's a time and place for that and it's not when you're in your 30s."
"Hmm, maybe, maybe not," Bradley said as he finished his tea. "It's probably time I make my way home.
"Not a bad idea, a good idea to get home before the booze flow gets heavier and people get obnoxious."
As they stepped outside, Bradley said, "Thank you very much, Steven. I appreciated this, especially today."
"It wasn't that big a deal. I just thought you could use a friendly face for a bit. Say, can I call a ride for you?"
"No need. I live within walking distance." Bradley put his hand on Steven's shoulder. "You showed kindness to someone you didn't know today. You're a good person. Take care and be well."
Steven wasn't prone to pray much these days, but he offered one to any deity who might be listening to give Bradley some comfort for the coming year.
Later that evening, it wasn't Steven walking through the apartment, but Julia. She always let her exes think she wanted to be called Steph, a defense measure against letting them know who she really was. It worked, until Kara.
Julia had put herself together well, dressed perfectly for a New Year's Eve party. A party of one, which was just as well, since dysphoria-tinted glasses had her finding flaws in her face, her body, which wouldn't hold up to scrutiny.
By 11:00, she'd consumed a good deal of the wine. Fully self-medicated, she thought back to her father, a good man who passed away 10 years ago from cancer. They didn't catch it in time because he was reluctant to go to doctors. He was always a good man who Julia was always too afraid to tell who she was. She thought it would be one too many burdens for him as a single widower. She couldn't do it to him after he lost Mom.
"If only she were still here. I mean, I know what I should do. It's an easy resolution. Start living as Julia in 2024. But we both know resolutions always fail, right, Thanos?" as she gave scritches to her cat, ironically named because of his tiny size when she adopted him.
"Resolutions always fail," she repeated, falling into a deep sleep before the countdown.
December 31, 2002 (Day 1)
"Hey, beautiful."
"Unnnh, hey."
"You going to get up?
"Unnnnnh, do I have to?
"Ordinarily, no. But you did ask me to wake you up."
"Okay, fine," she said, while wondering, "Who is this guy?"
"I'll heat you up something for breakfast before while you shower, okay?" as he lovingly caressed her shoulder.
She didn't know who he was, who she was, but it felt nice, comfortable. As she went to shower, she could see that she was trans, not Julia, but somebody, shorter and more athletic, her hair cut into a chic blonde bob.
The shower felt good, soothing. Now, she needed to answer the 5 W's -- Who, What, When, Where, Why?
After toweling off, she went into the bedroom, opening drawers until she found clean panties and shorts. Spotting a nicely folded Phillies T-shirt, she pulled it over her head. Seeing a pair of women's jeans next to the bed, she found an ID. She had her first Who -- Katherine Anne Tanner, the woman with a blonde bob, born October 31, 1980.
Wait, 1980? There's no way that woman in the bathroom mirror was 43.
As Julia took Katherine into the living room. This cute guy (cute, definitely cute) said, "Not much longer!"
She took stock of her surroundings -- a computer that looked like a museum piece, the TV wasn't new, then she spied a Daily News on the coffee table. The headline cried "Murder Most Foul", she looked at the date.
"Holy shit, 21 years ago."
"Kate, breakfast is ready!"
She entered the kitchen, sat at the table. This guy looked athletic, not in a camped out at the gym way, but more in a "always on the go" way.
"Here you go, one omelette with spinach, goat cheese and mushroom. With toast."
She savored the first bite (cute and he can cook) as he was getting ready.
"Since I have the day off from the office, I'm going to hang out with Ryan at the lab for a while. He should be here any minute."
Cue Ryan knocking on the door. "Hey Elliott! You ready?"
"On my way," Elliott said, bending down to kiss Kate and said, "See you at 7. West 4th Street Stop, right?"
"You got it," she smiled, readying herself for a day of recon, a lot more Ws to fill in.
She got dressed enough to be able to go outside. Makeup could wait. She had to see where she was. Okay, clearly her parents or Elliott's parents, maybe both, had some money. This wasn't a palace, but it wasn't a cramped studio apartment.
By 5 or so, she knew more things, like the fact she, well, Kate, was a sociology major. It was fine to get ready, finding the right cute sweater. She wasn't used to doing makeup for someone else's face, but she managed. She arrived in the West Village early.
Elliott got there about 15 minutes later. She smiled, asking "How'd it go?"
Pop! Pop! She felt a huge pain in her chest, going down immediately against the chain link. She heard Elliott screaming her name, she felt the warmth of, is that blood? Then it all went black.
December 31, 2002 (Day 2)
"Hey, beautiful."
"Unnnh, hey."
Kate was immediately awake.
"I was just shot. Am I dead? Dreaming?"
She waited until Ryan and Elliott left, then went over everything again, seeing if she missed something. A bill popped out, addressed to Elliott Bradley. Bradley. Oh shit.
She hadn't put together that her cute boyfriend and the sad man at the restaurant were the same person. Bradley looked much older than his mid '40s, with the gray hair and long beard. His eyes. Well, she'd been shot to death. No wonder.
Elliott on the other hand had that "Going Places" look about him. He was kind, smart and so open. It was clear he wanted her to be part of where he went.
"I have to stop this. Okay, we can't meet at West 4th. But where, I'll call him and have him meet me at, the Spring Street stop. We can find a place on Kenmare or Delancey. Perfect."
As they walked down Lafayette to Kenmare, this time, she didn't even hear the shot.
December 31, 2002 (Day 3)
"Hey, beautiful."
"Hey, handsome."
Still at a loss, Kate knew that for some reason, this day kept resetting. And she knew leaving the apartment wasn't safe.
"I'm going to hang out with Ryan at the lab for a while."
"Do you have to? We've both been busy and I'd love to have a day that's just us alone."
"But we-"
"Please?" If Julia's feminine charms had lay dormant. Kate's were at 100 percent, not that Elliott needed much convincing.
Before long, Elliott was taking over. Really, they were trading leads.
Hours later, she thought, "Forget cute. He's hot and he loves me," then the realization hit: "Kara was so right. I'm not a lesbian."
Hours later, Kate, fully sated, got herself a glass of water. Being a woman felt more right than she ever thought it would be. If she ever got back, she'd keep that resolution. She cracked open the blinds, seeing a dark-haired man in a black turtleneck, then nothing.
December 31, 2002 (Day 4)
"I just have to keep myself occupied. Place to place, so he can't find me," Julia thought. "No. Kate. I have to be Kate while I'm here."
It hurt that she couldn't think of a way to see her dad again, even from a distance. She missed him so much. If only she'd been able to come out to him. And to warn him about the cancer.
But what was she supposed to say? "Oh, hi there. You don't know me, but I'm a blonde trans woman who knows your son is also trans because I'm him on the inside. And, by the way, you're going to get cancer in about 10 years so for God's sake get it checked earlier? Oh, and you want some stock tips?"
No, she kept screwing up trying to fix Kate's life, even if she was starting to be able to access more of her memories, enough to get by. She couldn't screw up her own in the process, if she even could get back to it in the first place. She might be stuck here. And if she is, is that fair to Ka-
"Stop, Julia! Focus on what you can control. For now, just be Kate. Be Kate."
She moved throughout the city, eventually settling on a movie. "'The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers.' That's like, three hours long. Perfect."
Kate stepped out of the theater. Now, to take a cab far enough into Brooklyn that she could take a train home and arrive after midnight. Just make it to January 1.
So caught up in thought, Kate didn't notice that her cabbie, new to the job, had taken a wrong turn and they were on Sixth Avenue.
"Wait, are you supposed to be on-"
She spotted Elliott waiting there at the subway stop, then noticed Black Turtleneck. Before she could say anything, she saw the blood spray from Elliott's head before he crumpled to the ground.
"Stop the car!" she screamed, flinging the door open as she sprinted to him. "Elliott! No! No! No!No!" unable to to stop screaming, holding his body, trying in vain to will life back into his eyes.
December 31, 2002 (Day 5)
Her brain raced, "Elliott's the target, not me. I've been collateral damage. But if I died the first time, why was he still alive in 21 years? Did killing me accomplish the same thing? It had to have, somehow.
Or were Elliott and Bradley not the same person? No, they had to be. She couldn't unsee the resemblance now, let alone his kindness, his passion for life, everything. God. How could she be falling in love with a man when she's another person?
Kate didn't know what to think, but she had three options -- something to do with the school/lab stuff, something to do with his side job compiling data for the Carpenter Company or it's just some random sicko. She went with the lab first.
December 31, 2002 (Day 19)
This was getting old. She couldn't find any reason as to why someone wanted her boyfriend dead and it kept getting Elliott and/or herself killed.
The school lab was a dead end. It only succeeded in her getting into a few arguments with Elliott. He even broke up with her four days ago, or was it five? It was all becoming a blur.
She also got arrested twice, which absolutely sucked.
Then there were the days' inevitable outcomes, the trauma of knowing you'll likely die, along with the man you love. And you can't stop it. Not to mention the times she wasn't killed right away really hurt. This isn't what "live every day like it's your last" is supposed to mean.
Likewise, Elliott's job was part-time and just data accumulation and storage. Dead end. Then how do you stop a random creep?
"I need a break," she said, going on a walk. Somewhere near Union Square, she saw Black Turtleneck, who didn't see her. She followed at a discreet distance until she saw him enter an abandoned walk-up farther east.
She quietly entered. She looked in the basement for something to use as a weapon, finding something. She crept up to the fifth floor, hearing sounds from the apartment closest to stairs.
Pondering her best option, she saw the door opened to the left and he'd be looking towards the stairs.
It was risky, but what's the worst-case scenario? She gets killed again?
He opened the door on time to tail his target, never hearing Kate behind him. Julia channeling denial into baseball paid off, even if it wasn't a textbook swing with Black Turtleneck's height advantage. Lucky shot it may have been, but she only needed one. But too many movies, have to do it. Double tap. Done.
She found a duffle bag, putting the pipe, which now had a date with the Hudson River, in with the clothes. With stocking cap and scarf on, she left to meet Elliott.
Later that night, in bed next to him, the adrenaline having worn off she was traumatized. She went into sociology to help people, but she killed someone. "How am I supposed to go into therapy for this?"
But she did it to save Elliott and they were both sa-THUMP-- a figure entered and made their quickly to the bedroom.
"Kurt?"
"If I want things done, I guess I have to do it myself," said the man, who fired six shots. Kate only heard one.
December 31, 2002 (Day 20)
Kurt Oliver? Elliott's boss at Carpenter? But why?
At least here, she had an idea. She had a friend, Callie Thompson, who was a senior going into forensic accounting.
Taking out a new flash drive, she turned on Elliott's computer and looked for his Carpenter files. It took a while and she couldn't open them, but she had them.
"Callie, I need a big favor," she said, walking into Callie's room. "I think Elliott's stumbled across something bad and doesn't know it. Can you look at this for me?"
"I don't know if I can, because-"
"Please. I don't know where else to go."
"Okay, fine. Just lock the door please," Callie said, making quick work of the encryption. But finding something here won't be easy.
An hour later, Kate was startled by Callie yelling, "Holy shit!"
Callie explained as best she could. "It wasn't something Elliott would have reason to look for. This is above my pay grade, but this is beyond white collar and I'd bet Elliott's boss isn't at the top of the chain. For one thing, he had to have had this in there by mistake or he must be the stupidest person on the face of the Earth. You'd need to be able to get it off him wherever he has it, to be sure though."
Sadly, Kate realized she couldn't save Elliott tonight, but now she knew what she was looking for and where to look.
December 31 (Day 29)
Kate hated it, but she couldn't bear to be near Elliott, not being able to know him more because of the time crunch, the inevitable doom each night. She truly felt the pain he still had 21 years from now, reliving it every day.
But she had a job to do. Two days of staking out Kurt Oliver's place and six more worth of a crash course from Callie and she knew the window she had to work with and how to use it. She hoped.
"Shit! Nothing! This can't be right," Kate fumed. There was nothing on his computer, but he had to be arrogant enough to keep something somewhere.
No, nothing. She looked up in frustration, wandering around. When she looked in the bathroom, she saw a corner of the ceiling in the bathroom where the color was whiter. She got a chair, stood and pressed at and realized it concealed a small compartment just big enough to hide -- "There it is! An external hard drive."
Kate looked at her watch, "Dammit, the time. I have to put it back. But tomorrow, tomorrow's the day."
December 31, 2002 (Day 34)
It took more time than that, first to get a delivery uniform, to better cover her entry into Oliver's place. It was a quick trip to her parents place to drop the car back off and a brisk walk to the nearest LIRR station.
Once she got out of Penn Station, she pulled out a burner cell to reach an FBI agent named Roger Holliday (a man whose name it took three more days of getting shot to death, twice seeing Elliott go first, to find).
At first, he didn't seem interested until she rattled off a list of names, including one she and Bradley had talked about in a very different context in 2023.
She let him know exactly where he could find the external hard drive --in one of the farthest corners of a very specific library at NYU.
Having ditched the hoodie and delivery uniform in some dumpster along the way, she was a nondescript woman biding her time at a restaurant near the Carpenter Building when--
"Katie, so good to see you!"
"Mom?"
"Happy new year," Susan Tanner said, sitting down. "This is a nice surprise. How are you?"
"Um, fine. Kind of busy."
"I can imagine. You and Elliott are always doing something. I'm so glad you two found each other."
"Me, too," Kate said, as she made furtive glances at the building where Oliver worked. She kept doing so while doing her best to follow her conversation with Susan. She could tell she had a good heart, more outgoing, but otherwise a lot like Julia remembered of her mother.
As their talk wound down, Susan said, "You seem distracted. Are you okay, Kate?"
"Definitely. I couldn't be better."
"My dear, you are a wonderful daughter capable of so many things, but one thing you are not good at is lying."
"I've just been thinking about how good my life's been and how precious it is. I've been thinking about how I got here. You held strong until Dad came around on me," Kate said, looking directly at Susan. "Mom, when I told you I was really a girl, you believed me. You saw me. I'll always be grateful you did. You saved my life."
"Why wouldn't I believe you? It's my job, no, my honor to be a loving parent, as it was to be to your brother and sister. But I am glad you're with us among the living," Susan said, giving her watch a look. "Oh, dear. I should get going. I'm supposed to meet your father in less than an hour and I don't want to be late."
"Go, Mom. I'll call you later this week. Maybe Elliott and I could come over for dinner?"
"Great, I'll even make you and your father's favorite. It is perfect weather for meatloaf, after all. Happy New Year," Susan said, leaving money for the bill and kissing her daughter on the cheek as she left.
As she fished out money for the tip, Kate started to see vehicles with flashing lights pull up to the building. NYPD and judging from the vests on the first two guys out of a van-- FBI.
"Oh, please, oh please," she thought, making her away outside, joining a small, but growing group of onlookers across the street.
After the longest 30 minutes of her life, well, this one, she saw two agents escorting Oliver out, looking ashen and having no idea what hit him.
"Got you, you son of a bitch."
Farther down the street, a man in a black turtleneck and brown coat watched impassively. He saw the man who was supposed to give him his additional payment being put into the back of a police car. He had half the money, not bad for a job he wouldn't be able to carry out.
He turned and walked away, deciding to get some soup dumplings before leaving town. Seeing a parking spot off at Canal Street, he decided to walk the rest of the way.
"Binky! My dog! Binky!"
Black Turtleneck saw the little dog sprint past him towards Canal Street. He instinctively chased after it. He didn't notice the box between two cars that caused him to tumble off-balance towards the street as Binky changed direction back to the sidewalk right to a helpful samaritan who snagged her leash. What he did notice, and it would be the last thing he ever did, was the oncoming MTA bus that was about to run him over.
"Elliott, there you are," Kate said, rushing up to greet him at the West 4th Street stop. She kissed him, looking around and seeing nothing, she did it again, even more passionately.
"Say, Kate. I'm a bit hungry. Let's go across the street and I'll grab a couple slices from Joe's. Sound good?"
"Perfect," she said. Still looking, still seeing nothing but revelers, couples, a stray tourist or thirty going about their business. No Black Turtleneck.
"Let's go over there to eat," she said, motioning across the street to Father Demo Square.
Elliott replied, "Exactly what I was thinking," sprinting across ahead of her because he spied open spots on the nearest bench.
"Easy there, Maurice Greene," she laughed as she caught up to him at the bench. Taking a bite of the pizza, she said, "Mmm. So good. This all is."
"Couldn't agree more," he said as they finished their pizza silently enjoying each others company, holding each others free hands, Kate putting her head on his shoulder.
"You know, I was going to wait until we got home, but this feels as good a time as any," as he pulled his hand away from Kate's.
"Elliott, what are you doing?"
"Kate, you'll see. You know, these two years have been the best of my life. You are beyond special. I love you for who you've been, who you are and who you're going to be. I want to be with you the rest of my life and-"
"Oh my, God, Elliott!" she cried, seeing him open up the case. "Yes! The answer is 'Yes'!"
The two kissed again for what felt like forever. Feeling safe for the first time in months, looking at the ring on her finger, Kate kissed him again.
January 1, 2024
"Mmmmmmmmm," Julia murmured as she stretched in the cocooned warmth underneath her blankets. "This feels so good, I could just stay here all day."
She shifted onto her right side, embracing a pillow.
An itch on her left breast, she scratched it. Breast.
"What the hell?"
Julia brushed hair away from her eyes. "I don't have long hair ("Yes, you do"). And it's brunette?
She sat up, pushed herself off the bed and made her way to the mirror on her bedroom wall. It wasn't Kate in the mirror. Julia could see Steven there, but softer, the hair not just longer, but fuller. She stepped back, seeing not just the breasts ("C cup, just like my first roommate at college"), but hips, like actual curves.
"Oh. My. God. Wait, I need to get my phone." Sitting on the bed again, she turned it on as a purring Bucky went back and forth nuzzling her shins.
"Where are they? Please be out there somewhere." Searching and, here's something, an article. "NYU Professor Celebrates 15 Years."
She thumbed through the story seeing the details -- "student with aspirations of becoming inventor", "girlfriend Kate inspired him to teach instead", "Kate Bradley, director of center for at-risk LGBTQ youth", "live on the Upper West side with their two children, Alex (17) and Julia (15)."
"They made it. I'm so glad that Elliott's happy. And I didn't screw up things for Kate! And, naming a girl Julia, did she know that I was there?" she said, crying in relief as the door opened.
"Hey, Darling."
"Hey yourself, Gorgeous," she said, wiping away tears and getting up to greet Zach ("How do I know his name?").
She gave him a loving kiss.
"If I'm going to get a reception that like that, I clearly need to shop more often," Zach quipped. "By the way, I talked to your parents. They'll be here with Jay around 4:00."
"Great," Julia said, looking around the living room. Pictures on the mantle -- on trips with Zach, who she met at a work conference ten years ago. She was smitten quickly and so was he. He didn't flinch when it came time for the "There's something I need to tell you" talk.
Then the pics of their wedding three years later-- Dad walking her down the aisle, her and Jay, her stepbrother, as kids and at McCarren Park last year.
"How is Dad still here? And who's Karen? Karen, she and Dad met at a parents support group while Jay and I were in the trans support group. She must have gotten Dad to the doctor earlier."
The gaps in her memory began to fill, beginning to take over what she recalled of Steven's old life, at least since 2002.
While she could remember to, she looked up Kurt Oliver and found that he'd flipped in the case, only to "mysteriously disappear" when he broke witness protection to try to see his ailing mother. A lot of the names she told Holliday about went down for it, all the key ones, including combover guy.
Later, she'd have no idea why she searched for a story on a loving couple named Elliott and Kate Bradley, the professor and the tireless LGBTQ advocate. But while she still remembered, she resolved to show them gratitude for her life.
She gave Zach a look with love and desire turned up to ten. "You know, if they're going to be here at 4, we have plenty of time to-"
"Julia, you read my mind."
She followed him into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.
Epilogue, December 31, 2002
Waiting for his son to come back from the restroom so they could order, he heard voices around the corner.
"Mom, when I told you I was really a girl, you believed me. You saw me. I'll always be grateful you did. You saved my life."
"Why wouldn't I believe you? It's my job, no, my honor..."
He looked up from the menu to see his 12-year-old son sitting down. "So, kid, what would you like?"
"Dad, there's something I need to tell you."
He now knew what to say. The words came out of George Kelly's mouth as he held his child's tensely-clasped hands. "Whatever it is, I love you, see you and believe you, okay?"
Reassured, Steven said, "Dad. I'm a girl."
Author's Note: My muse took me to a heavier place here, but it's a story of survival and, ultimately, hope.
One Last Hail Mary
By Marissa Lynn
Even with nobody sitting next to him, it was impossible for Mark Tyler to twist his body into a position to sleep.
Buses like this weren't made for sleeping anyway, but how he wound up on it wasn't helping. Anybody looking in his direction would have seen a thin young man of average height. A stocking cap, more for cushion than warmth, covered up a fresh, severely short hair cut.
What they wouldn't have seen was how much that hair hurt him, almost as much as the bruises and that cut as they were hidden by a nondescript forest green sweatshirt.
Maybe, if they were paying attention, they'd have seen his eyes, how they made him look older than his 20 years, carrying the weight of the pain, inflicted in more than one direction.
Then they'd have seen those eyes close, as he drifted into sleep, not a deep sleep, but in chunks, 30 minutes here, an hour there, as he traveled to an uncertain fate, one that he felt as responsible for as anyone.
Mark's efforts to sleep further became fruitless at some point after it became daylight. He stared out at the blur of passing trees, the exits and their truck stops and fast food joints. The last thing he wanted was to be on this bus. And not just being on the bus, but going where he was.
The last person he wanted to see was Michelle, not for his sake, but hers. But desperate times call for desperate measures and he had nowhere else to turn. He closed his eyes again, not because he could sleep, but because he had zero desire to see the world right now, a world where resolutions were for fools.
Eventually, the bus pulled into the station at his destination. He opted to save his money. From his handwritten directions, he figured it was only a couple miles. Pulling two wheeled suitcases, one with each hand, he walked to the corner and waited for the light, hoping against hope that he wasn't wasting his time on a pointless Hail Mary.
"Hey, babe. You about finished?" Michelle asked Wendy. "We need to pick up a few things for tomorrow night so we can stay at home during the day, since it looks like the weather's looking lousy."
Wendy Thompson brushed back her curly blonde hair, looking back through her round glasses at Michelle. "Just about. Just a few more things to do with that new trattoria opening in the spring. You know, Dad. Got to have those T's dotted and I's crossed," she said with a wink.
She'd crossed paths with this beautiful brunette who was working at the local organization helping LGBTQ youth. She was there for a local restaurant group to hammer out the details on some charitable work, including an employment program.
There was no coming out as Michelle's identity was naturally there as part of her advocacy work. Even with what she'd been through, she was one of the kindest people she'd ever met. They hit it off and after six months of dating, they moved in together.
Michelle was a client of the center first, having run away from home before she could finish her senior year. They helped set her up to finish high school, then start college classes as she worked.
Her job wasn't just a needed paycheck, it was paying it forward. She'd come a long away, her therapist had helped her a lot with the trauma and PTSD that living under the Tyler roof had caused. She couldn't wait to get rid of her last name soon, going with Gorman, the last name of a kindly aunt who was the one person in her family who showed the slightest bit of affirmation to her, at least until her husband picked her up from work, lost control with a blown tire, crossed the center line and got crushed by a semi.
Her "parents" had rather rigid views on gender, a kind of piety without setting foot in a church. She quickly knew she couldn't trust them, fighting a losing battle to hide herself. They taught her not to expect any better from them, but what really stung was when her younger brother turned on her when she was in high school. Even three years younger, he'd hit his growth spurt early. They'd been each other's rock, but he started to parrot his father in unfortunate ways. He was mostly verbal with her, starting to pepper his act with more slurs. Then that summer before she left, it got worse.
One day, after he'd been gone for a week, he was the worst he'd been. She had enough and pushed back. She can still close her eyes and picture his face as he knocked her to the ground with one punch.
She was too shocked to cry at first, seeing his expression change almost to panic as he ran off. Of all the things that went on in that house, it was Mark who was the final straw. They stayed away from each other, which helped her plan her escape.
It turned out the walk was closer to three miles, but Mark finally arrived at the apartments where his sister lived. He found her door, took several deep breaths made difficult by the pain in his right side, and pressed the buzzer.
It was Wendy who looked through the eyehole first, not recognizing this kid standing outside their apartment, looking like hell. "Michelle, any idea who this is?" she whispered.
Michelle looked and said, "You have got to be kidding me."
She opened the door, staring at the brother who'd betrayed her. She turned to her girlfriend to say, "I've got this, Wendy," before looking at Mark with almost pure venom.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"Sorry, Michelle. I know I'm about the last person you wanted to see, but-"
"You're damn right. Did the birth canal and the sperm donor send you here to 'teach me a lesson'?"
"What? No. Mom and Dad-"
"I don't care. You can call them that, but they no longer exist to me and neither do you. You hurt me and you damn well enjoyed it. Forget you ever found me and if I see you here again, I will call the cops on you."
"But, but, Sis."
"Don't you call me that! Don't you dare call me that!"
And with that, Michelle slammed the door, locked it and stormed past Wendy to their bedroom.
Mark hung his head. This went as poorly as he feared. He thought better of knocking again. "Sorry, Michelle. I-I deserve that," he said as he turned to leave the building, having no idea where he was going to go next and, frankly, not caring in the slightest.
Remembering a park nearby, he made his way there slowly. Finding an out of the way bench, he sat down, memories he'd tried to push back, now with nothing to stop them.
He'd always looked up to Daniel when they were young and didn't understand why Mom and Dad picked on him. Then they got meaner and nastier. He didn't get why, even though at some point he knew Daniel was different.
Over time, Daniel swore him to secrecy that he was a girl. That he could call him "Dani", but it would be their secret, that Mom and Dad would think it was "Danny."
So, he looked up to his sister. They looked out for each other as much as they could, treasuring the moments like their parents being out of the house on hunting trips or meeting with their pals who ranted about immigrants, communism (as if they knew what it was), not to mention the evil of "homosexuals" and "transgenders." No parents being around was Safe Time.
Over time, Mark couldn't put his finger on why, but he related more to Dani. Even as awful as Mom and Dad were, she still kept her true self, even as she hid it.
During one weekend while Aaron and Eve, as Dani had taken to calling them, were at a "patriot retreat," as they called it. She let Mark in on a new secret, that she was Michelle. He vowed to keep her name under lock and key. As she hung around the house in the one dress she'd been able to keep hidden, Mark envied how happy she looked in those stolen moments, instinctively feeling she would do great once she got out of this hellhole.
"She's a girl. Maybe I could be, too. Maybe. I wish," Mark realized. She wanted to tell Michelle badly, so that she'd have a secret to protect, too.
But for this girl who didn't have a name yet, this was too fresh, too raw, too frightening. She saw what they did to Michelle. If they knew she was the same? God.
As much as she tried to bury it, it stayed under the surface, but close. She panicked, figuring that her parents, Dad especially, would figure it out.
She started to be rude to Michelle, which seemed to win his approval, that she was going to be "a real man." She felt progressively more awful, trapped between the desire for safety from Dad and the pain at hurting her sister, all mixed in at her own growing self-loathing at being trans.
It was a vicious up-and-down cycle until the one day she slipped and Paige got too close to surfacing.
Dad was griping about some trans rights ordinance somewhere, blathering about "that freak Daniel" and how "someone needs to do something about these perverts."
Angry at his vile hatred, Paige snapped. "What if I was like her?"
"What the hell did you say?"
"You heard me. There's nothing wrong with her being who she i-"
Aaron cut her off with one blow to her solar plexus.
"You'd better not be like that, that thing, Mark. You're a man. God made you a man, not an it. You will not be a sick thing."
As Paige tried to get her breath back, Aaron stormed off to make a phone call. When he returned, he said, "Pack some clothes. A friend of mine is picking you up. You need to be reminded how to be normal, you little perv."
It was one of Dad's buddies, some guy named Roger, who they'd almost sent Michelle to. The week was hell. Sleep deprivation, every slur in the book and pain, inflicted by someone who had the training to do it without leaving marks.
When she was back home, she was tired and confused, a torture survivor with no one to tell and no outlet for her anger, until she saw Michelle.
"This is her fault. If she was normal, I'd be okay. Mom and Dad would stop this. Dammit, Daniel needs to stop," she thought.
She barely remembered anything that happened until she realized she was standing over Michelle. The look of utter pain and shock on her sister's face snapped her out of it. She couldn't believe she'd actually-, she fled to her room and laid down on the bed. Putting her pillow over her head turned out to a pointless gesture, since her sobs were silent.
She couldn't bring herself to be near Michelle after that. It wasn't that much longer that she got out, Aaron and Eve only paying lip service to finding her.
Paige's true self never went away, as her sense of survival as well as spite towards her parents kept her near. Normally, her not being a jock would have been another sticking point, but she had picked up the guitar.
Aaron found that was a "manly enough" pursuit for "Mark." Paige even got him to go for longer hair, pointing out all the guys on his album covers who had it, especially since she reluctantly let facial hair grow.
It was all good until her true self wanted to be above the surface, to be, like Michelle hopefully was wherever she was. And, then..
"Stop it Paige, don't think about that," she thought in the present. The exhaustion began to kick in and she crashed right there in the park. Eventually, a voice woke her up.
"Hey, you okay, kid?"
It was a park cop.
"Look, you can't sleep here. You got some place to go?"
"Um-"
"I'll take that as a no. There's a shelter a couple blocks from here that I might be able to get you into. Come on, get up. What's your name?"
"Pa-Mark. It's Mark."
"Alright, come on, Mark, get going."
Luckily, the officer, Paige never caught his name, knew the lady at the shelter and before she knew it, she had a small bed. It wasn't great, but today, it felt like the Ritz Carlton and the food they offered tasted five-star, as she realized how long it had been since she'd eaten.
That night, she had the longest uninterrupted sleep she could remember having in a while. When she woke up the next morning, she noticed the pain in her right side was worse, but she shook it off. She had one more shot.
She retrieved a pen and a notebook from one of her suitcases and started writing, but she was trying a different tactic.
"Wendy -- Michelle's told you about her terrible brother Mark. I can't deny it. Probably everything she's told you about me is true. But there's one thing she doesn't know about me: I'm trans, too. My parents found out and that's why I came here. If I had anywhere else to go, I'd have left her alone. But I don't. I don't know you, but if Michelle trusts you to be with her, that speaks well of you, so...
Paige went on to condense her version of what happened at the house, what happened to Michelle, what happened to her.
She finished, "I know Michelle hates me. I don't blame her for that, but trust me, she can never hate me more than I hate myself. I'd love to have a sisterly relationship with her, but I understand if she sticks with never seeing me again. Just let her know that I always wished I could be like her because she was strong, smart and kind, everything I'd want in an older sister. I will always look up to her. It's a new year coming up and I resolve to survive as Paige, to honor Michelle and to spite the bastards who try to destroy us. Please look after her and, if you ever think she'd be ready to hear it, tell her I'm more sorry than she'll ever know and that I love her -- Paige."
She asked at the front desk if they had an envelope, which they luckily did. She put the letter inside and wrote, "To Wendy" on the outside.
Paige knew she'd have to leave the shelter before coming back. If she left now, she'd have enough time to get to her sister's apartment, slide the note under the door and get back before the line was too long.
"It's getting tougher to do this," Paige thought it was more uncomfortable to walk than yesterday. But she made it to the apartment, held the letter so it touched her forehead and wished to whatever deity or fates could let her get through to Michelle, got it under the door, then walked away, trying to hold in her tears and failing completely.
Wendy, fresh out of the shower, was wearing the new lavender robe Michelle gave her for Christmas. As came out of the kitchen with some fresh coffee, she happened to notice an envelope sitting on the floor. "Must be a piece of mail that fell off," she thought, only to see the words "To Wendy" on an envelope from Mercy Center.
She sat down at the kitchen table, put her glasses on and started reading.
"Oh, dear God," Wendy said. A fast reader, she realized that there was so much more than what she knew about Michelle's family, more than Michelle knew. And Michelle needed to.
As she was about to call Michelle, the door opened.
"Hey, babe. I picked up everything for dinner tonight. What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost?"
"Michelle, sit down. There's more to what happened with your brother yesterday. To what happened to both of you."
"What the hell are you talking about? Did he come back here and bother you? I swear if he-"
"She."
"What?"
"It's she. Her name isn't Mark. It's Paige and she's your sister. Here," Wendy said, handing her the letter.
Michelle didn't know what to think, but she trusted Wendy, the first person who made her feel safe and protected in her life, so she started to read.
The letter brought everything back, the trauma front and center, but then she realized the trauma her brother, no sister, had gone through.
She was utterly stunned. She had no idea. She still had doubt because of how Mark had hurt her. But then she saw Mark had been hurt in ways she didn't know about. By the time she reached the end, she didn't know where she was with how she felt about her sister, but she knew she hated the people who called themselves her parents even more.
"Sigh. Okay, this is so much to take in and I don't know how to handle this, but, I think we need to find Paige first. How do we find her?"
Wendy smiled and held up the envelope. "Let me get dressed and let's go for a walk," she said.
Paige stood in a line that was longer than she hoped, but still not too bad. "Damn this hurts," she thought. She put her hand there and it felt unusually damp.
"Maybe I should sit down. I don't want to lose my place in line, but, steps. Steps right there. Just for a minute."
Paige made the steps and closed her eyes, then, nothing.
"Talking, I hear talking," Paige thought. "Where am I?"
Her eyes flickering open, she saw she was in a hospital room and is that? Wendy?
"Michelle! Honey! Your sister, she's awake!"
"Oh, dear," Wendy said, briefly touching Paige's arm. "I'm so glad you're awake. Your sister's going to be, too. She went to get something from the vending machine. I'll go get her. Oh, she read your letter and, well, I'll have to let you two talk, but she's here."
"Thanks."
"You're welcome. Now let me go get your sister."
"Michelle's here? She's actually here? But why am I here?"
A nurse came in. "How are you feeling, Paige, right?"
She nodded and said, "I'm okay, I think. What happened?"
"Well, you probably should have seen a doctor for that cut after you got mugged. It got infected, but luckily we got it in time. You're on some antibiotics and the doctor got you stitched up. Dr. Mehta will come around to see you in a bit. But, for now, take these and I'll get you some more water."
"Thank you."
Michelle entered the room, "Paige, thank God you're okay."
"Are you sure?"
Michelle winced, but said, "Yes. I am. I'm still trying to process all this. I'd be lying if I said I didn't have some anger about what you did to me, but at the same time, reading what you wrote, it reminded me who deserves that anger more than anyone -- the two people who were supposed to protect us, but who did more to hurt us than anyone else could have."
Michelle looked down at Paige's bandaged wound and instinctively touched where hers was on her left. Seeing Paige's eyes now, she saw what she saw looking into a mirror three years ago.
"Michelle, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't deserve this. I don't deserve y-"
"Stop it, Paige. You do. I might have only known you're my little sister for a matter of hours but you're still my little sister. After all that's happened, you deserve a chance. And you deserve a family."
"But-"
"But nothing. I'm your family and so's Wendy. And you're right, she is really good for me. I have one question, though."
"What's that?"
"You didn't say why you're here. I mean, I know why you're in the hospital. I guess Aaron learned to cut better than he did with me," Michelle said as she lifted her top to show the scar.
"I thought I was safe," Paige said. "We moved after you left. The property had a small building, a joke to call it a guesthouse, but it was a space I could call mine. Mom and Dad had started to spend more time with their oath-keeping friends. They were supposed to be out of the state for the whole holiday weekend. But, no, they decided to trade whatever cluster that was for spending Christmas with their 'good son.'"
"And they found you dressed as Paige."
"Worse. They found me partly dressed with Jake, a nice guy I'd met when I'd snuck out of town to a LGBTQ support group. Somehow in that town, that sea of sewage, I'd found someone who saw me for who I was. And then they come waltzing in and-"
"Oh, no," Michelle gasped again, knowing how evil their parents were.
"Yeah. Mom screamed like someone dropped a severed human lead in her lap. Dad's face went lobster red, I've never seen him that angry. He went back outside, going to the car to get his gun. I screamed at Jake to run. He managed to get out the back. Dad chased after him, but luckily he'd had a few, which turned his mediocre aim to crap. And it also meant he didn't get a good look at Jake's face."
"My, God," Wendy, who'd come in, said. "I hope he went to the cops."
Paige chuckled bitterly. "I don't know how much my older sister told you about the Good Sheriff James McDonald. Every election he runs on God, family, law and order and gets over 60 percent of the vote. He's also a very proud boy, if you get my drift."
She continued, "I tried to leave. Mom blocked the back door and said she'd tell Dad to shoot me herself. I thought he was going to anyway but instead he called the sheriff. He restrained me on a chair in the kitchen. Mom told me I was going to look like a man and cut my hair off. Dad told me to stop crying, then went to work. He said he wouldn't hit me in the face, so he hit me everywhere else. When he got tired of that, he grabbed his chef's knife, said, 'You want to be like your brother. Here you go.' He said 'brother' with this tone that showed more hate than any slur."
"I'm so sorry," Michelle said, holding tightly to her sister. Paige, shaking and apologizing profusely, let her tears flow, the dam finally burst.
After several minutes, Paige thanked her, then continued. "So, after that, he told me that he and Mom were going out of town and that I had 24 hours to be gone and if I weren't, this was a warmup. Then, for an encore, he burned every Paige thing I had that he could find, tossed my cellphone into the burn barrel, then smashed my guitar and threw it in there, too. The last thing he said was, 'You're dead to us.' He didn't know it, but it was the kindest thing he ever said to me in his miserable life."
"I packed up what I could into the two suitcases and put some stuff to eat into a bag. Pulled out your address and spare cash from where I'd managed to hide it and you know the rest. Oh, and by the way, thank you for telling them about the 'mugger who I didn't get a good look at who cut me' and thank you for letting them know my name."
"We're sisters and it's time we start looking after each other again," Michelle said.
Dr. Mehta came by not long after to give her the good news. Her tests were looking good so far and if they looked good after overnight observation, she should be able to go home tomorrow.
"Home..."
"Yes, home. You're staying with us now," Wendy said.
Things did indeed go as hoped overnight. As a nurse wheeled Paige on her way out the building, Paige told Michelle, "Sis, I need to do something about-- gesturing at "Mark's" clothes she was wearing by default.
"I'm getting you a head start on that," Wendy said. "My sister Hillary is about your size, so I asked if she had some things you could use. She'll be coming by later."
"With that size as a guide, I picked up some underwear, jewelry and things for you," Michelle added. "And I have some contacts in the theater world through my job who know my story and sometime today, you should have a wig. It's your natural color. Wait, here's a pic of it."
"Evan Rachel Wood," Paige said.
Michelle and Wendy exchanged a knowing look before Michelle said, "That's exactly what I said."
"Heh. Great minds," Paige said.
After they arrived home and settled in, Wendy said, "It's a shame that the people who were responsible for so much pain in your lives are still out here, unaccountable for the hurt they caused you two."
"That's something I still wrestle with, but at the end of the day, they're in a miserable world of their own making. They've driven away their children. It is a shame, but you know, we're free of them. That's a victory I'll take," Michelle said.
Paige nodded and thought, "A shame, indeed."
Epilogue
Paige, clad in a cute sky blue pair of pajamas, sat at Michelle's desk. It had been wonderful New Year's Eve. She could see the path forgiveness and to her true self and now that she had a real home, she resolved to get there.
She'd met Wendy's sister and parents and saw exactly where Wendy came from, what a real, loving family is. That they'd obviously welcomed Michelle had been so comforting.
She and her sister still had a lot of serious repair work to do, but with their New Year's resolutions firmly set to do that, she felt an unfamiliar feeling. Something Wendy called "hope."
Paige turned on her sister's computer, knowing exactly what she was looking for. That same day while back she went out of town to that LGBTQ center, she stopped at a library first. She looked up a number of things, finding Michelle's address, on the slim hope they could ever reconnect. She went to look up something else she'd found that day.
She soon found the same two photos on the site. There, they were: Aaron and Eve Tyler, bandanas shielding the bottom halves of their faces, inside the Capitol on January 6. Dad in his confederate flag T-shirt with the mustard sauce stain, the one she knew he still had a week ago. Mom, wearing one that said "Rope. Tree. Journalist."
"They thought I didn't know where they went. Nice of them to get those matching tattoos on their hands, though," Paige, now safe from their reach, thought as she hit the send button, knowing that accountability might not have been on Aaron and Eve's list of resolutions, but they were going to get it.
Hunkered down for a winter storm, conditions change for two sisters when their brother and a friend become unexpected guests
Snowed In
By Marissa Lynn
"Oof, it's a mess out there."
"That's what the weather guy was saying a few minutes ago," Jenna said as her sister Olivia, ice crystals starting to cling to the parts of her hair sticking out from under her red beanie, came in with the first of the bags.
"Worst two word combination in the English language -- lake effect," Olivia said as she dropped the bags filled with some of the results of her shopping run.
"Moist pillow."
"Ewwwww. Point taken. Be right back."
Jenna, the oldest sibling in the Vernon family, picked up the bags, taking them to the kitchen to start unpacking.
Olivia had volunteered to make the run for food and supplies so they'd be set for the next few days. The forecast was for at least two feet of snow, with increased winds making the drifting worse even when the snowfall eased up. She didn't mind helping since Jenna, who had a good job at a law firm in the city, was kind enough to let her stay with her to offset some of her college expenses.
"Remember when Mom pulled out that old line about 'If you keep making your face, it'll freeze like that'? She wasn't kidding," Olivia said as she stepped back inside.
Removing her boots and hanging up her coat, she made her way towards Jenna who was blonde, with straighter hair, older and visibly a girl to the world -- all four of them things Olivia wished for when she was growing up.
"The new coffee's in this bag. Some Sumatran, too. We deserve some good stuff if we're going to be stuck here," she added, knowing that Jenna wanted some as much as she did.
When she returned, the curly-haired brunette had switched to a pink Western University sweatshirt and black leggings. With no need to go outside, comfort was priority No. 1.
"Here you go," Jenna said, handing Olivia a fresh cup, then sat down with one of her own. The weather was wretched, but it had the benefit of giving her a day off while her sister was still on winter break. They'd both been busy but hadn't had time to talk.
The conversation turned to Jenna's job at Preston, Wu & Associates. "You seem to be doing great there. I can't say I'm surprised. I remember all those debate team trophies and how you used to watch all the TV shows with lawyers. Mom called you a regular Jacqueline McCoy before I even got the reference," Olivia said.
"Yeah, but I wound up in civil law. Not that I wanted to go into criminal, but..."
"But what?"
"It's just, I do a good job there. I'm on track. The whole deal. But it feels so mundane sometimes, like I could do it in my sleep. I just wish I could do more, you know? I wonder why I'm here some days."
"Isn't 28 a little young for an existential midlife crisis?"
"It's not that, but do I really want to be doing this when I'm 40 or 50? I don't know. What about you? You're set to graduate soon and you haven't decided yet."
"I know, but it's a little more difficult, with my, um, history, even though they're great about it. I just don't know if I want to be on-air or behind the scenes," Olivia said. "I've worked on my voice and my appearance has come a long way. It took a while, but the hormones kicked in."
Jenna chuckled, "Oh, Lord. Remember how worried you were about your breasts after a year?"
"I swear, I was about to ask if I needed to talk to them to get them to grow like houseplants."
Both of them started laughing. As the laughter dissolved, Jenna said, "Seriously, I am proud of you. I remember when the real you started peeking out in school. You put up with a lot."
"Not everybody, just a select group lacking humanity, but yeah, there were some terrible people. Tommy was around, but I always got the feeling he was annoyed -- half on the bullies' side, only helping me out of family obligation."
"That's not exactly true."
"Is it? He and I barely talk anymore. It's like he resents the hell out of me since I came out as Olivia. And all I wanted was to just have the normal life, whatever that is-- go to school, maybe have a cute boyfriend to take me to Prom."
"I wish you had, too. But you've taken to college as much as you've taken to being Olivia. We have great neighbors like the Jacksons who think you're cool. Wait, I know that look. You're picturing someone aren't you?"
"Maybe?"
"Come on, spill."
Olivia sighed, then told her that her dream date in high school was Paul Murphy, a boy in Tommy's class. He never treated her like a freak when they crossed paths, a low bar, but he seemed like a genuine good guy and, kinda hot. Tall and naturally tousled hair that looked like perfectly styled bedhead and-
A knock on the door surprised both of them. "Who the hell would still be out by now?" Jenna asked. She got her answer, muffled by the door. "Jenna! It's Thomas. Open up, please. I'm freezing my ass off here!"
"Worst three-word combination in the English language -- 'Your brother's here," Olivia thought. But she was closest to the door, so she got up to open it to let him inside.
"Uh, thanks, "Thomas said, shaking off the snow as he had a suitcase with him. Looking at Jenna, he said, "Sorry, Dad wanted us to get to the area early for a business trip. 'You can beat the storm. It'll be easy,' he said. We were lucky to get here. No way we can make our hotel. That would be an hour away in summer."
"Us?"
A green parka-clad man made his way through the blinding snow. He called out, "Hey, glad you're home. Thanks for helping us out."
"Wait. Paul?" Olivia said.
"Oh, hey. You must be Olivia. Thomas thought you might be here," he said, as he wiped his face and got his first look at Jenna and Olivia's place. "Any port in a storm, but this sure beats the hell out of a ditch."
"I can put your bags in my room if you want," Jenna said.
"Sure, thanks," Paul said, "I guess, since I'm shorter than Thomas, I can take the couch to sleep on and he can take the recliner."
"Sounds good," Thomas said as he looked at Olivia with an expression that Paul thought was a little off.
She definitely noticed, but said, "We were about to have sandwiches -- turkey and provolone -- with chips. Mayo and/or mustard on the sandwich?"
"Mustard sounds good, Olivia," Paul said.
"Both, thanks," Thomas said.
Thomas and Paul, who'd been part of the company for six months, made some calls to let people know they were safe from storm.
Throughout the rest of the day, there was small talk, checking in on the weather and eventually a decision to watch a movie, which wound up being "Barbie" on a 3-1 vote. Thomas lost, although he had to admit he enjoyed it more than he thought he would.
All the while, Olivia and Thomas did their level best to avoid each other directly, not so much hostile as uncomfortable in the other's presence.
The topic turned to high school -- Mr. Henderson (the English teacher they all liked), the time Thomas got a technical foul against Sherman North at the conference tournament when it was Paul who dropped the F-bomb. Towards the end of the evening, Olivia, who'd had a few wines, spoke up.
"Okay, sooo, speaking of basketball. Remember how packed the gym was for that game against Wilson Tech my senior year?"
"Yeah, I came back for that one. We owed them after beating us in overtime the year before. Why?" Tommy asked.
"Welllllll, the gym was two people short that night," she said. "I'd snuck out dressed as myself and there was this cute boy who, I won't say his name, but he was on the baseball team and he had access to some keys. So, we went to one of the classrooms farthest from the gym.
"No, you're kidding!" Jenna said.
"Scouts honor, well, Webelos. I quit after that. Anyway, we made out hot and heavy to the point where he wanted to go all the way.I told him "No" but we compromised and let's just say he went home happy and I never looked at European history class the same way again."
"I'm honestly surprised. That's not like you," Jenna said.
"It was the only time I did something like that."
Thomas piped up. "Are you sure?"
Olivia's ire rose. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means that the whole time I had to keep watch on you, you just decided to go out there doing whatever you wanted, not caring if you got hurt or-"
"I wasn't going to get hurt. He knew. In fact, getting together with me as Olivia was his idea."
Paul was too uncomfortable to step in. Jenna tried. "Guys, you don't need to-"
Thomas said, "No. I was on guard duty and you didn't care. You just did whatever you wanted to. How many other times did you do something like this? Huh?"
"Just the once. I think he wanted to explore and I just needed to let myself out. It's certainly not something I made a habit of."
"It isn't?"
"Oh, that's a cheap shot, TOMMY. You were finally out of the house and I felt so stifled in high school, holding in who I am."
"Holding it in? That's funny. You were always flaunting it. Why couldn't you just be-"
"Don't you DARE say normal, Tommy. Don't you even dare!"
"What should I expect from you anyway? You don't even have enough respect to call me Thomas. Always Tommy, Tommy, Tommy like you're eight years old!"
"Oh, I'm sorry, Lord Thomas. I'm sure it must really suck to be referred to as a name you don't want to be. Not that I'd know anything about that. By the way, don't think I haven't noticed you haven't referred to me as Olivia once since you got here, just ‘Hey’ or whatever."
"I swear. You're impossible. I protected you in school from all those bullies who wanted to hurt you."
"Maybe so, but you know? When it comes to people who want to hurt me, maybe I needed protection from you!"
Thomas, open-mouthed, had no response as Olivia turned to Jenna and Paul, and said. "I'm done. Sorry, guys. Good night."
As she reached the hallway, she turned to look back at Thomas, "And by the way, the only reason you got stuck on being called Thomas is because Dad insisted on it, the same reason you're working for him instead of doing something else. When we were growing up, you never said, 'I wanna work for Dad when I grow up.' You know, I think you resent me because I'm living as who I am and you're too afraid of him to do the same."
With that, Olivia was off to bed, closing her door not with a slam, but emphatically enough to be a de facto "Do Not Disturb" sign.
That pretty much put an end to the evening. Paul took the couch. Jenna thought about knocking to check in on Olivia, but thought better of it. Tom went to the bathroom to change into a T-shirt and sweats.
Turning the faucet on, he splashed water into his face, shaking his head in anger and disappointment. The target of his emotions was the 6'2" member of dad's sales team looking back at him in the mirror.
New Year's Eve
As the day began in earnest, Thomas' light snore indicated he was the last one unawake, a function of him being the last to fall asleep. It was only sheer exhaustion that made it happen. After he went to the bathroom, he came back with a navy blue towel to drape over his eyes to shield them from the light.
At some point, he shifted over into pretending he wasn't awake, his thoughts turning to his kid sister. He didn't know which felt worse, that he'd completely blown it with her or that she was right when she ripped into him before bed.
Paul was watching some football game on low volume. Jenna made a little small talk, but was apparently engrossed in reading something.
Olivia? Outside of showering, she was staying in her room, content to read, looking at things on her computer to pass the time and generally doing whatever she could to pass the time away from Tommy's presence. The relative silence was broken by a knock on her door.
"Not now, please."
"It's Paul, can I come in?"
Somewhat reluctantly, she said. "Sure, I guess."
"Sorry about last night. If I'd known that would happen for you, I'd have suggested to him that we take our chances with the ditch."
Olivia couldn't help but chuckle in spite of herself. "It's okay. You probably had no idea of where my relationship with my brother's at. I'll always be grateful to him, but he has his own issues and I don't feel like being a target for him while he won't work them out."
Paul nodded thoughtfully, which Olivia took as the cue to continue.
"When I was young, I remember feeling out of place, like I was living outside my body. I didn't know why. Then, the music I heard then, like Taylor Swift, Pink, Jenna's old CDs like Avril Lavigne, I started to realize that I didn't just like them, but I wished I was like them. So, yeah. By the time we were in high school, I was out as gay, but I knew I'd be out as Olivia in college. But I made an easy target for the Chads."
"Those guys. And their names actually were Chad-- Chad Gabriel and Chad Landingham. Way to lean into the stereotype, asshats."
"I know, right? That lasted until Thomas got hold of them, or so I heard. I mean, the Chads barely said a word to me after. Neither did he. It felt like he resented me for it, like looking out for me was a chore."
"Thomas is a good guy, but he seems to have a habit of letting his pride get in the way. Honestly, when you and your sister come up, he talks about how Jenna's this really good lawyer who has it all together and how you've come a long way and that he won't be surprised to see you on TV one day."
"He never tells me!"
"Well, I suspect he feels badly about where you two are at, in addition to what you said last night about him. I have no idea what that would be, but maybe you woke him up. And he's right, you do seem to be thriving."
"You know, I am in a lot of ways. College has gone great. I have some really good friends. I couldn't ask for a better older sister. Mom and Dad? I don't know that they fully understood at first, but they knew they didn't have to. And once they saw this, they got it. It's all good, outside of my dating life."
"Sorry about that. I obviously don't know what it's like to be trans. I do know there's a lot of ignorant people out there, which I'd imagine makes it a good filtration system for dating. The trouble is, I suppose not many make it through that net."
"More than you'd think," Olivia said. "Sometimes they get through and it doesn't work out for other reasons, like this guy Derek. We'd still be dating if he hadn't transferred because of the med major he wanted. It's funny, you know, I had a crush on you in high school."
"You did? I had no idea. I mean, I didn't know you were Olivia then and I guess my transdar wasn't finely tuned, or even existent."
"And it was high school, so you wouldn't have made it through the net."
"Don't be so sure."
"Oh? (gulp)"
"Well, I would have then and now, but I already made it through someone else's net."
"Oh. Ohhhhh."
Paul's silent nod confirmed the commonality, "Her name's Allison. We met senior year. I was a little leery, not because of who she was, but because my previous relationship ended badly. I thought she didn't need a rebound, but we clicked. I realized that I'd been over the ex, I was just waiting for the right time."
"And when did she know you were right for her?"
"Really early, as I found out later, but I remember on one of our early dates, I asked her, 'So, where you and I are at, it feels right to me. You?' and she said, 'Maybe. Seems promising.'"
"She's lucky."
"I am, honestly. I feel like I'm punching above my weight with her. It's why I haven't- wait. Why am I talking about this? I came in here to comfort you about your brother."
"Look, I appreciate the effort," she sighed. "But it feels like he and I are at a perpetual standstill."
"I can't tell you how to handle it with him, but if I thought he really hated you, I'd tell you. Maybe give him another chance. I'd better get back out there, though. Good luck, Olivia."
"Thanks, Paul. And trust me, Allison's luckier than you think."
Around a half-hour later, Thomas rousted himself from his fake slumber and approached Jenna. "I'm sorry I was an ass last night."
"Yes, you were, but it's not me you need to apologize to."
"I know, but-"
"Look, little brother. We both know you need to and know that you're going to. She deserves it and, even though you're being a stubborn ass right now, so do you."
Thomas nodded. Tugging at his shirt nervously, he turned and went to Olivia's bedroom door. "3-2-1," and he knocked.
"What?"
Thomas opened the door and said, "Olivia, we need to talk. First-"
"He knows my name! Alert the media!"
"I deserve that, Liv. And you are the media. Or will be. Look, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. And you were right, well mostly. I don't resent you for being Olivia, not for a while. Once I started seeing you visit home from college, it was clear you couldn't have been anybody else, you know?
"But last night."
"Your little story last night brought back how scared I was for you back then. So, of course, I started lashing out and being an idiot. You didn't deserve it. But I don't resent you. And I have been unhappy with myself for living the life Dad wants for me."
"So, you're-" Olivia ran her right hand in front of herself like one of those game show women showing off a prize.
"Oh? Oh, no, no. You're not going to have another sister. And I'm not torn up about who I'm dating. Dad and Mom know. The only reason you and Jenna don't know is we haven't talked in a while."
"So, you're gay?"
"I don't know that I'd put a label on it, but yes, I'm dating someone. His name is Oscar. But that's not the life part. It's that I really don't want to be in the company. It's not that I'm bad at sales. I'm really good at it. It's just not what I want to do"
"What do you want to do, then? You never showed any other-"
"I didn't either, but over the last year, I, well, why don't I show you? Just stay in here for another 30 minutes or so, 'kay?" he said. As he reached the door, he added, "Call me 'Tommy' whenever you want. Just stay here for a bit."
When Tommy returned, all he said was. "Kitchen now, please."
She followed him. She spied a plate with two pieces of french toast, colorfully presented, not with the usual butter and syrup, on the counter.
"What's that?"
"French toast with a peanut sauce and berry compote, sort of an elevated PB&J. Oscar wants me to call it 'French Toast a la Tomás, which, no. I don't care if he is a sous chef. Try it."
"He remembered peanut butter and strawberry jelly was my favorite in grade school," she thought, before taking a taste, "Oh, wow. This is really good. I had no idea."
"Thanks, it's not perfect, I had to use frozen strawberries. Cooking's always something I've always liked and Oscar's encouraged me. I want to go to culinary school."
Olivia, covered her mouth, which was full of breakfast and comfort food sense memory, and said, "You should."
"Dad'll flip."
"Will he? Tommy, if he can handle Olivia and Oscar, then he can handle you going off to be a chef."
"Maybe, but I-"
"Hey, guys. Who's Oscar?"
Olivia and Tommy turned to see a rather curious Jenna.
The rest of New Year's day went smoothly. Jenna was even less surprised than Olivia about Oscar. When he showed them a couple pics of him, they both agreed that Tommy had good taste or, as Olivia put it --"If 'The Bear' were a Hallmark Christmas movie on Univision."
The conversation and improved spirits continued through the day. Fully expecting to make dinner, the sisters outlined what they had in mind, then let Tommy take over.
"Oh, this came out so good. That egg coddling trick with the carbonara," Jenna said, making the chef's kiss motion.
"I think it's official, big brother. You are Tomnough," Olivia joked.
"Just for that, no dessert for you," he said, giving her a playful nudge.
As it hit 11:30 or so, the four were sitting in the living room when Olivia looked around and asked, "So, what are we resolving for the new year?"
"I heard on the radio that only eight percent of people make those resolutions last for the entire year. That doesn't exactly sound like the best odds," Tommy said.
"Well, we've all bought the occasional lottery ticket," Jenna said. "And we have all four of us here as a sort of accountability circle. I'll even make it easier. I'll start."
"You're the most together of any of us. What on Earth could you have to resolve?" Tommy asked.
"Well, Olivia and I were talking yesterday about how I wasn't sure I wanted to keep doing what I'm doing at Preston & Wu. I've been reading up since and, well, the firm has progressive leadership now and they've been looking into social justice law. I'm resolving to get them interested in LGBTQ issues, to take on cases to help people. We're lucky to live in a state where people like Olivia and Tommy aren't under the threats they'd face in other states, even as privileged as they are."
"That's great, Jenna," Olivia said. "I knew I looked up to you since I can remember for a reason. (pause) Although did you have to raise the bar for me again?" before she stuck her tongue out at her, prompting laughs from the others.
"Good luck, Jenna," Paul added. "I guess I'll go next. Mine's more personal. I've been dating Allison for a while and it's been great and she's been wonderful. But recently, I'd been doubting if I were good enough for her.The more I thought about it, the more I realized that that it was the last lingering bit of my last relationship. That enabled me to finally chuck it aside and look clearly at the future. All of which to say is that, this year, I resolve to be the best husband to Allison I can be."
"Ohmigawd, congratulations!" Olivia screamed.
"Well, it hasn't happned, but I've been looking for a ring and found a nice one. When I get back home from all of this blizzard mess, I'm going to propose to her and I hope she says 'Yes.'"
"Dude! I've seen you two together. There's no way she won't," Tommy said, before teasingly. "If anything, she's probably been waiting for you to make an honest woman out of her."
"That's a little retrograde isn't it?" Paul said sternly, before shifting tone to winkingly ask, "Besides, when are you going to make an honest man out of Oscar?"
Tommy rolled his eyes, saying. "Don't give Mom any ideas." Pausing for a few seconds, he added. "We're just enjoying things as they happen right now anyway. It's a promising start. Honestly, my resolution was to make things right with Olivia, but I have a start on that in spite of how I acted yesterday. So that leaves this. I resolve to let Dad know that I'll keep saving up so I can leave the company and enroll in culinary school."
"Way to go, buddy," Paul said.
"If the french toast and carbonara are any indication, you'll kill it. How close are we to midnight?" Olivia said.
"Oh, no, Liv. If the rest of us have to do it, so do you. I didn't run extra lines at basketball practice for a month after taking care of the Chads all those years ago just for you to weasel out now. Besides, you were the one who brought resolutions up," a smiling Tommy said.
"Okay, fine. I mean, there's been a lot to think about, but there are a couple of things that came to mind. The main one, though, is that I resolve to set aside the doubt. I intend to go fully for on-camera or on-air jobs. I can always produce as a backup, but I'd be kicking myself if I didn't give it a real shot."
This surprised nobody -- "I knew it," Yes!" and "I could see this coming down Broadway," the last coming from Tommy..
"Looks like you’re raising the bar on me, Olivia. Ooh, let me get the prosecco. We've got five minutes," Jenna said.
As the clock wound down, everyone stood together, glasses raised. "10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1, Happy New Year!"
Tommy looked right at Olivia, silently saying the words, "Thank you." She pointed back at him, mouthing the words, "You, too."
New Year's Day
"The wind's dropped. I think you're getting out of here, you two," Olivia said, watching the Weather Channel, noting to herself that, no, it was a blizzard, so she's not calling it Winter Storm Elon, even though Elon bl-
"Hey, Liv! You said you wanted some pointers. How about I help you whip up a hash from this leftover beef. Spoiler alert: the secret ingredient is fish sauce."
"Great! I'll be right there!"
The results were a hit. As everyone was digging in, they heard the telltale loud noise of some kind of implement vehicle clearing snow. Looking outside the window, Jenna saw it was Trevor Jackson, who was one of their closest neighbors, steadily clearing the driveway.
As they finished, they heard the plow stop. Olivia hurried to the door, waving to try to get her neighbor's attention. He'd always been friendly to her and Jenna, but wouldn't take any money when he did something like this. Oh well, it was worth another shot.
"Hey, Trev, that was nice of you to do that, but you really should let me give you something to help pay for the fuel or-"
"No need, Olivia," he said with a smile. "Just helping a neighbor. I graduated last June, so I know you're probably not flush with cash."
"Yeah, but-"
"Don't worry about it. You're the last driveway I had, so I'm going to go have something to eat."
"Tell you what. How would you feel about some beef hash, eggs however you'd like? It came out really good."
"Well, I was going to have instant oatmeal since I didn't get to the store before the storm hit, but you drive a hard bargain."
"My sister's a lawyer, so I might have picked up a few things."
"Okay, deal." As Trevor took his boots off to avoid tracking slushy mess all over, he held up two dirty hands and asked, "Bathroom? I probably should clean these up."
"Down the hall and first door to your left after you hook right."
"Great, thanks."
As Olivia started to heat the skillet up, Trevor popped his head in and said, "Two sunny-side-up, please."
"Glad to help a neighbor," she replied. They silently smiled at each other just long enough to not be awkward before he said, "Be right back" to go wash his hands.
Tommy, seeing this, gave his sister a thumbs-up, quietly saying, "Nice", drawing a smile from her.
Paul arrived at the kitchen sink and started cleaning his plate to make sure the yolk didn't dry and stick. He looked at Olivia and said, "You know that other resolution you were thinking of? Looks like someone got through the net and might stick around."
Turning on the skillet to reheat the rest of the hash and clearing space for the eggs, her smile revealed no small amount of confidence as she replied, "Maybe. Seems promising."
For Carrie, she's often had to do just fine on her own, but rebuilding a broken family relationship and finding unexpected love may be more possible than she thinks as a new year approaches.
Still Time
By Marissa Lynn
Among the less important things Carrie Emerson inherited from her father was the ability to be able to fall asleep from the seated position on the couch.
She put her headphones on, clicked "play," closed her eyes and laid back. It had been a long day. If quiet time meant passing into a comfortable, still sleep with PJ Harvey and Ella Fitzgerald in her ear, so be it.
Dreams make no sense. There's always details wrong. The small town she grew up in had one stoplight and less than 3,000 people, but in this dream, it has a subway system. Sure. Why not?
Later on, in an old apartment where she lived with mom for a year after she and dad broke up. There she is -- Mom, wearing the wire framed glasses she wore when she was younger. She's smiling.
It's the look she had before the change -- open, happy. Out of nowhere, she speaks.
"Carrie, I love you no matter what."
Carrie later went to bed, careful not to wake Bianca and the guy she'd brought home. Snuggled underneath the blankets, she couldn't help but be weirded out. "Carrie, I love you, no matter what."
"That wasn't her. That was a stranger."
It was Sunday. No need to get up early. She'd stopped going to church once she was no longer forced to. Having Lauren Emerson use the Bible as a weapon played a part.
In her bitterest moments, Carrie would think to herself that letting humankind have access to religion was like letting a three-year-old have access to fully stocked bar and an open armory. Most of the time, she settled on figuring that it was a source of comfort for some, but she was content to figure that the universe ran itself and she was fine without peoplesplained versions for how it did.
Her parents, Lauren and Bob, had gotten together in high school, way too young. She was born two months after Mom graduated.
They'd managed well enough until Carrie was five. She remembered looking forward to her new brother arriving. Everything was great up until the last minute. Cam didn't survive.
Sometimes, she wondered what it would have been like to have had Cameron around. Would he have been a supportive kid brother? Hateful? What if he'd come to her and told her he wasn't Cam any more than she wasn't Craig?
The marriage fell apart. As easy as it would be to say Cam's death was the cause, as Carrie grew older, she realized it only hastened the inevitable.
Years later, she asked her father, "I have to be honest. I'm glad you did, but how in the hell did you get together in the first place?"
All he could offer was a rueful shake of his head. "She wasn't always like this."
Dad wasn't perfect. He'd pretty much ghosted her after the divorce, leaving her to split time between Mom and her maternal grandparents (a welcome relief, as it meant not being under the same roof as her).
Carrie knew who she was before was a teenager, but she had no one to tell. Lauren grew increasingly cold, attached more to the church than her. Sure, there were the insults, the threats to send her off to military school to teach her "how to be a man" and taking having a "gay son" as a personal affront.
You literally couldn't have an innocuous conversation with her. "We're supposed to get snow tomorrow" would get an unprompted 10-minute riff about Jesus in response.
Carrie waited until she turned 18. Luckily, she lived with her grandparents in an informed consent state.
It all hit the fan in her freshman year of college, when she started presenting as her true self. Lauren came in for a surprise visit, seeing her daughter in a nice top, an A-line skirt, the works.
"What are you even doing here?"
"You're my son. I can stop by any time I want. And I didn't raise you to be a pervert!"
"Excuse me?
"I don't know what they teach here, but you know better than to insult God. Leviticus says-"
"Oh, yes. That's why you condemn eating shrimp and barbecue. Because Leviticus is 'the law.'"
"Don't take that tone with me, young man."
"Woman. Get it right. I spent all those years living under your hateful, hypocritical standards, pretending to be someone I'm not to-
"Pretending? That's rich. Do they know they have a cross-dressing freak playing dress-up games in this dorm?"
"Trans women are welcome here, Mom, because we are women."
"I should have known. Schools like this put those evil, Marxist thoughts in your head. They recruit you for Satan."
"Do you even listen to yourself, Mom?"
"Look, Craig. I'll make it very simple for you.If you're going to turn your back on God, I'm not going to pay for it. You can renounce your sin and transfer to a school with real values or you can stay here and debase yourself, but I won't pay for it."
"I'm not going to one of your phony Bible schools."
"Have it your way. You're on your own," Lauren said, adding on her way out, "I have no son."
"You never did. You. Never. Did," Carrie said, abandoned and dissolving into tears on her bed.
"'Carrie, I love you. No matter what.' That's a lie."
*****
"Hey, Carrie. You okay?" Bianca asked, popping her head through the door.
"Yeah, fine. Good night last night?"
"It wasn't bad. I don't think I'll invite him back for an encore, but not bad."
"He didn't pass the Bianca Carrasco Test did he?"
"No, he didn't."
"That's a shame," Carrie said, thinking, "Maybe she needs to-stop it, Carrie."
*****
"Carrie, I need you to work on 'Nowhere Ranch' today. The scenes are marked down on the sheet."
"Okay, Ted. Got it"
Carrie had succeeded in spite of Lauren, who she never talked to in person again. Her mother's cruelty had the unintended effect of reuniting her with her father.
Bob had eventually remarried, slipping right into that life, leaving his child to the wolves, having no idea she was his daughter.
One of her father's sisters got a hold of him to let him know what Lauren had done, having seen her crow about abandoning Carrie in a social media post full of self-congratulatory tone and deadnaming. He knew he had to do something and though there was a long road to get Carrie's trust, the least he could do was pick up the slack for her college expenses.
At that point, she'd felt about New Year's resolutions about how she felt about religion, but now, she resolved to have a family again.
It happened. Her stepmom, Janet, had proven to be the kick in the backside her dad needed. And her new siblings had been good to her, especially her stepbrother, Rick, who, through his boyfriend Dylan, had helped get her the job at Modern Board.
Bob had proudly introduced Carrie as his "daughter in the movie business," as if she were a superstar actress. They even got to spend a week together, just the two of them, the father-daughter time she'd always wished for.
Then the universe did what it does. Four months later, Bob died of a heart attack.
Carrie focused on the task at hand. Headphones on, she was making sure the sound was in sync --the score, the effects, the dialogue. She'd heard a couple of the stars had been in to re-record some of it, but she hadn't been asked to do that sort of work yet.
As far as she could tell, it was some sort of family drama, with Charlize Theron as the mother, some sort of awards bait except the scenes she was checking on all seemed good.
One scene left to look over, in the third act. Theron and some younger woman, from one of those hit streaming shows. She couldn't place the name. Everything was in place, then the dialogue started to sink in.
Oh, god. It's a reconciliation scene. Goddammit. Of course, there's crying over some photo of them years before, a boy with a de-aged Charlize. Shit. That's where she knew the actress from.
"She even looks kind of me, except blonde instead of redhead. I didn't need this."
Carrie shoved her emotions down, something Lauren was also very good at, double checking what she was supposed to, then notifying Ted she was done.
*****
"Dinner's ready," Bianca said.
As good as the food was, Carrie was distracted and Bianca could see it.
"Carrie, what's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"I'm not buying that," Bianca said, putting her hand on Carrie's. "I'm your friend, right?"
After a sharp intake of breath, Carrie slowly exhaled and told her about the dream, that damn Charlize Theron movie and how off she felt.
"You're lucky, Bianca. You have your parents in your life. Since Dad died, I miss that and, I don't know, as angry as I am at her, part of me wishes we could reconnect. Or just to let her know I'm not dead to piss her off."
"I don't know, maybe you could give your Mom, the younger Mom from your dream, something."
"Not a bad idea. You know, I'm lucky you're in my life."
"Yeah, no problem," Bianca replied, feeling funny as she said it.
Carrie distractedly looked at the internet. She had a tab open to the website of a friend of hers, Ava, who was a longtime photographer. Clicking on the "What's New" tab, she saw various examples of her work -- celebrities, still lifes and concerts.
"Wait. Is that? No way!"
*****
"Okay, thanks for coming, everyone. See you next month," Janet Hudson said, as the assortment of people started to grab their coats and leave the room.
The one exception was Lauren Emerson, who sat there silently, her face a mixture of sadness and shame.
"Lauren, time of year on top of the usual?"
"I just. Seeing all you talk about your kids and how proud you are of them and seeing them, it reminds me of her. Yes, especially now."
"Have you thought about reaching out? You're not the same person you were eight years ago."
"I forfeited that right when I abandoned her. I didn't even know her name when I did it. Carrie. It took a while to find her. I know she's out there, living a good, happy life she deserves. She doesn't need me in it."
"Let's grab a coffee," Janet said. She remembered crossing paths with Lauren at a point where she was questioning the rabbit hole of ignorance she'd crawled into.
Lauren's increasingly lonely existence, where others had jumped as much as she'd pushed, got her to a point where she couldn't blame other people. The ugliness she saw in the mirror, the same kind she began to hear crystal clear in her pastor's sermons.
It was around that time she ran into Janet, a former member of the church. Janet had left the moment her son came out to her as gay, maternal instinct triumphing over dogma. She now went to an affirming church and helped run the PFLAG meetings. She became a sort of shepherd for Lauren, who took to seeing the humanity in those she'd so thoughtlessly condemned.
Lauren was out of that rabbit hole, as supportive of others in the group as she was unable to forgive herself, not knowing how she could make it right.
*****
Ava delivered the photo personally, even having it framed herself. She even turned down her usual rate, saying, "Carrie, I know why you want this. Consider it an early present. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas to you," Carrie said as they hugged.
As the holiday approached, Carrie steeled herself to do it, fear and anger did battle in her head, mixed in with the slightest amount of hope.
She put the headphones on, still again, falling into a nap, as the song played -- "Wanted to belong here/But something felt so wrong here/So I pray/I could breakaway."
There's the one-stoplight town subway again. At the top of the stop near the post office, she sees her mom again, only it's the ice queen she knew from high school. Lauren's lips curled into a sneer, she doesn't say a word. Instead, like she's trying to get the last out in a World Series Game 7, she winds up and slaps Carrie across the face.
Carrie awoke suddenly, shaken. That never happened in real life. As awful as Lauren had been, she'd never hit her. Her weapon was cruelty, the damage inflicted emotional, cuts, bruises and scars that lasted longer than anything physical would have.
She tried to gather herself at the bathroom sink. With her side swept red hair and eight years worth of HRT, she was reminded of another of the universe's sick little jokes. She was a dead ringer for Lauren. If they'd had a loving relationship, people would have said they looked like sisters or twins. It even threw her dad when they'd reconnected.
"I can't do this," Carrie cried to herself as she went to where she had the wrapped photo and put it into the back of her closet, covering it with a sweater she never wore. "I can't."
Bianca could tell Carrie was upset about something. She'd been lucky with her family. Given their response to her brother, Mateo, she knew she'd be safe to come out to them. She hated that Carrie couldn't do the same.
She also knew some in her extended family didn't respond well. Uncle Carlos stopped being welcome around family gatherings for years because of it, until he'd apologized to Mateo personally and backed it up by not being an ass anymore.
That didn't last long, as Carlos was killed in a car accident on his way home from his first Christmas back. Seeing how much this was hurting Carrie, the mixed messages from her dreams and knowing that any possible chance to reconcile could end at any time, an idea popped into her head.
Without telling Carrie, she took the day off, then waited for her to head off to Modern Board, having made breakfast first.
As Carrie waved at Bianca from the sidewalk, she couldn't help but think, "I really won the roommate lottery. A great friend and pretty, too."
As Bianca watched Carrie walk away, she thought, "If what's in that frame doesn't work, nothing will. Please, God let this work and let her forgive me for it if it doesn't."
*****
"Excuse me, are you Lauren Emerson?"
"And you are?"
"I'm your daughter's roommate, Bianca Carrasco.
"Daughter. She wouldn't be here unless-
"Is she okay? Has something happened?"
"She didn't call her 'he.'"
"No, no, no. She's fine. She, um, just asked me to bring you something."
"Really? Come in, please," a cautiously curious Lauren said.
Bianca came in. As Lauren went into the kitchen to get something to drink, she realized how stupid her first question was. Lauren's hair was more brown and there was a bit of gray at the temples, but she pretty much looked like a sadder version of Carrie 20 years from now. God, the irony of having the same face of someone who'd hurt you more than anybody. She thought she'd better get this over with quickly in case it went south.
"Here's your water. So, what am I supposed to have?"
Bianca excused herself to go get the picture from the trunk.
Lauren had no idea what was in the obvious frame underneath the wrapping paper, which she quickly tore away.
"What is this?" as she saw the picture of Kelly Clarkson singing, taken from the side. She'd taken Carrie to see her years ago because she got tickets from a co-worker."
"Front row, right side," Bianca said.
And there they were, Lauren, the same age Carrie was now, with a big smile on her face as her daughter was either cheering or singing along. A moment of joy when they were capable of sharing it.
Lauren started to cry. "She remembers."
"Of course, she remembers. She doesn't just remember the bad stuff. As awful as she feels, there's a part of her that remembers the other you, that wishes she could get a hug from her mom."
"She didn't ask you to drop this off, did she?" Lauren asked, getting the only response she needed from Bianca's expression.
"That's okay," she continued. "I understand why she doesn't want to see me. I appreciate your effort. Getting this for me is a nice gesture on your part. She's lucky to have a girlfriend like you."
"Oh, no, no, no. Carrie did get it. She's just afraid to- and I'm not her girlfriend."
Lauren saw the denial in Bianca's face, but said nothing. The two continued to talk, Bianca filling her in on Carrie's life, complete with photos ("She looks more like me than I ever realized"), Lauren on how she'd begun to change.
"Look, I really should get back, in case she notices, you know."
"Good idea," Lauren said. "Can we add each other as contacts? Maybe you can let me know if she's more open."
"I suppose so. I might have to make up a fake name for you, just in case."
Lauren nodded, then walked Bianca to the front door. "Thank you so much for bringing me this. It gives me a little bit of hope and it really was so sweet of her. And, Bianca, you should think about telling her how you feel. Trust me, you'll have better luck with her than her father did with me."
Bianca nodded and got to her car. The whole drive back, she worried that she overstepped her bounds, but Lauren seemed so different from Carrie's description. Had she really changed? She hoped so, for Carrie's sake and for the sake of their relationship.
"Friendship, Bianca. Friendship. Stop crushing on the straight girl."
It had been a good day at work for Lauren. Ted told her that he was going to teach her all she needed to in order to be able to work on redubs and voiceovers in the new year.
Still, she was mentally exhausted. Even the stillness didn't help, as this time, not only did her dreams have both Laurens, she also dreamt that she was on a pier. Dad was clinging to it, but no matter how much she stretched her arms out, she couldn't reach him to pull him out of the water.
Bianca was gone when she woke up. Perfect. She didn't want a loving hug right now. She needed the stillness alone. She fished around in a container she kept locked with documents and, there they were, the keys she was looking for.
She jotted a quick note -- "Bianca - Just need to get away. Don't know when I'll be back. Carrie," not even realizing she'd added "xoxo" at the end.
*****
"So, Carrie. I got the wine for later tonight. No reason we can't celebrate the start of a new year. Carrie? Carrie?"
Bianca found the note on the kitchen table. She didn't miss the "xoxo," but she also didn't miss the "don't know when I'll be back."
"Please, be okay, Carrie."
Eventually tired of worry and not having any ideas after none of their closest mutual friends had seen her, she grabbed her phone and dialed up her newest contact-- "Linda Hammersley."
Lauren wouldn't have answered, but she saw Bianca's name.
"Lauren, I'm worried about Carrie. She took off while I was gone. She left a note saying she had to be alone and she didn't know when she'd be back."
"Does she know you were here?"
"I don't think so. All I saw in her bedroom was the case she keeps her documentation and stuff locked in. It was left open. Nobody here knows where she is. I thought you might have an idea."
Memories of decades ago hit Lauren. "I do. If you can get up here, I'll text you if I'm right."
"Okay, thanks."
Carrie dragged the suitcase up the steps. She fished out the key. It fit in the lock and it turned. The universe had cut her a break.
She stepped into the old family cabin where her parents took her when they were kids, before it all turned to crap. Now, she was grateful that Lauren, in her spite, hadn't thought to change the locks.
She turned up the heat and put the food she'd need for later away, then shuffled off to the main bedroom. She plugged in her phone, which she'd set to "do not disturb." Covering herself in a blanket, she put in the earbuds, pressed "play" and let herself drift, glad there was no one in the stillness but her.
Carrie was sound enough asleep that she didn't hear Lauren enter the cabin. Not wanting to scare her daughter, she quietly set her luggage down by the kitchen table and tiptoed back outside. She then knocked and knocked.
That woke up and startled Carrie, who figured she had the place to herself. She opened the door, stunned to see a face she hadn't seen in eight years looking back at her.
"Carrie?"
"Don't you mean 'Craig'?"
"No, I know better. I'm sorry I was so wrong, so cruel."
"Yes, you were. You basically wished I was dead."
Lauren winced. She knew she hadn't, but she knew her actions led Carrie to believe that.
"I've been wanting to get in touch with you for a long time, but I was afraid and I knew you had a good life without me," Lauren said before she started to relate how she'd turned around her worldview with the help of Janet and others.
"One of the other moms I met, she told me that she had a daughter in college who came out as lesbian. She did the same thing I did, only her daughter," she said, fighting back tears. "Let's just say I was glad to find what I did when I looked you up."
"How did you even know I was here?"
"Your friend Bianca called me because she was concerned about you."
"How the hell do you know her?"
Ignoring blasphemy was one of the skills Lauren had acquired in recent years. "She brought me your Christmas present and I'm glad she did, even though it reminded me of what I gave away when I abandoned you, when I lost myself."
"She did what? I can't believe she did that without-"
"I hope you forgive her for that. You didn't just inherit a facial resemblance from me. We both can dig in and be stubborn about things. Or be afraid. She did it because she cares about you. You're lucky to have someone like her as a girlfriend."
"But she's not my girlfriend."
"Well, I saw her face when she talked about you. I know I'm not in a position to ask you to do anything, but if you don't feel the same way, be gentle with her. And if you do, and the look on your face says I might be right, give it a chance. You deserve that kind of happiness."
"Maybe? I don't know. This is all confusing. Your last words to me were 'I don't have a son' and now here you are, trying to play bisexual matchmaker."
"There's no way I can take back what I said that day, even if I was unintentionally right. I have a daughter. I'm not expecting you to forget what happened all those years. All I want is a chance at us being a mother and daughter. That concert photo that's on my living room wall right now shows there's a chance you do, too."
Hope was starting to nudge closer to anger and fear, although Carrie was still leery. "There's some truth to that, even though you have to understand that it's hard for me to trust that."
"I get that. If you need counseling with this and if you want me to join you for it, I'll pay and you pick the counselor. I know you'd need someone you trust."
Carrie nodded. "That might not be a bad idea. Look, I brought some tea with me, maybe we keep talking?"
“Good idea."
The two started to tentatively catch up. Carrie's hurt came out at times, but she noticed Lauren never tried to deflect or blame. She seemed to be taking ownership. She didn't even flinch when she told her that the one thing she wouldn't do is go to church.
Lauren looked at the clock on the kitchen wall, "Look, if we're going to be here for New Year's Eve, I'd better get to the store back in town before they close. We're going to need a few extra things. We might have some good resolutions to toast to."
"My face must be a mess now, Mom. Give me a few minutes and I'll join you."
"Sounds good, Carrie."
"She's not deadnaming me. I am not used to this."
Lauren couldn't marvel at how Carrie looked. She had blossomed despite her. She was a daughter any mother should be proud of and, as way past overdue as it was, she couldn't be prouder. She looked out the window, spotting something she thought she might see.
"Actually, I have another idea."
"What are you talking about?"
Lauren opened the door, Carrie right behind her. She pointed at Bianca's car coming up the drive.
"Look, Carrie, I can make the run to town by myself. I won't be gone long, but you and I aren't the only ones with something to talk about. And compared to us, I think what you two have to talk about is simpler."
Before her daughter could formulate a response, Lauren grabbed her shoulder reassuringly. She went to her car, giving Bianca a reassuring smile and nod before she drove off.
"Bianca? What are you doing here?"
"Just seeing that you're okay. You had me worried."
"I can't believe you took that present here without permission. That wasn't your call to make."
"Sorry, I know."
"But now she's here and acting like my mom again, or trying to. I still don't know what to think completely, but you-"
"Sorry. Ordinarily, I wouldn't do something like that. I thought it was worth a shot and if she reacted badly, at least you wouldn't be the one hearing it. It's just that, I hated seeing you like that and I knew it was breaking you up inside. I care about you. But she doesn't seem angry now and neither do you?"
"No, she isn't. This is too weird. She hurt me so much for so long, but now she seems normal?"
"I can't imagine. I was expecting her to bite my head off when I showed up at her house, but she seemed more sad than anything, like everything she'd done had hit her."
Carrie and Bianca filled each other in on what had been happening.
Relieved, Carrie said, "I know it was my call, but in this instance, I'm glad you called the audible. You're a good friend."
"Tell that to your mother. She thinks I'm more than that."
Carrie felt that funny feeling in her stomach, seeing Bianca looking gorgeous, with curly black hair, the red lip and eyeliner on point. "I know. She always pushed me to date girls in high school. I guess some things don't change much."
"That never happened to me. My parents, but I mean. I liked dating boys and like dating men, but-"
"But what?"
"There was this girl, Ana Lopez. She was my best friend in grade school, then into middle school. She had this cute short hair with the bangs swept over. I looked at her differently one summer. I wondered what it would be like if she were my first kiss and I think she wondered, too. But then she moved to Florida before we got a chance."
"You never told me this before."
"Well, it's never come up. It was years ago. She was the first girl I ever had a crush on."
"The first?"
"There's only been two. The other's, well, more recent.
Carrie gulped. "How recent?"
"For months now. I'm looking at her, actually."
Another gulp. "But how? You've only dated guys."
"Some good guys, but they had one problem. I didn't want to admit it, but they weren't you. I thought I'd work up the courage to tell you, but then it's pointless to crush on a straight girl."
"I thought so, too."
Bianca blinked rapidly. "What?"
"Look, you've been a really good friend. You've been there for me more than any of my boyfriends have. I used to look at girls in high school, for how they acted, how they dressed, for ways I could be. You remind me of the best of them, just as aspirational, inside and out."
"I'm not."
"Trust me, Bianca. You are. I realized that if you were a guy, I'd have asked you out a while ago. But like you said, useless to crush on a straight girl."
"Maybe not so useless."
"Before I came out, I was a happy little gay boy. Well, not really happy and not a boy. But you know what I mean."
"You might be gay after all."
"For you, definitely."
Even then, neither wanted to make the first move, until they both did.
"Wow," Carrie uttered before they simultaneously said, "My first kiss with a girl."
Lauren eventually returned. Bianca got up to leave.
"Now that I know Carrie's okay, I should get back-"
"Nonsense. You shouldn't have to spend tonight alone. Besides, what kind of mother would I be if I kept my daughter from her girlfriend?"
"But mom-"
"Don't 'But mom' me. I can see the looks on your faces. Plus, you both need to fix your lipstick. Let's get inside. We can make dinner together if you'd like."
Carrie looked at Bianca, seeing an embarrassed smile with encouraging eyes.
"I'd like that a lot, actually."
Carrie paused at the door, looked at Lauren and embraced her in a tear-filled hug.
Lauren didn't actually say the words, "I love you no matter what," but for the first time, on this New Year's Eve, Carrie resolved that the dream wasn't a lie.
For Madison Sander, the path home is not a straight one, nor is it always a happy one, but there's always room for friendship, family, love and hope.
Note: The CW is related to the first scene only.
The Long Route Home
By Marissa Lynn
Prologue
"You ready, Emily?"
"Yeah. I've been slowly having Cecily take a few things while he's been out. Everything else is in the trunk."
"Great. Get in. She should be waiting for us."
"Okay," Emily nodded, her blue eyes sitting above the ugly bruises. "Let's get the hell out of here."
As Madison was set to turn the key, the lights in the foyer came on, with angry yelling."You goddamn bitch!" and worse.
"Go!"
Scott came bursting out the front door. As Madison sped away. He fired two shots at her car, but missed, tossing the gun in anger as it was now empty. He quickly ran to his own car to give chase, fumbling for his keys and knowing this thing had enough horsepower to catch whatever his girlfriend's friend was driving.
And that would have been true, except for two facts -- one of which he didn't know, the other he chose to ignore.
The first is that Madison Sander's father was Hank Sander, who'd raced stock cars on the weekends when he was younger and taught her to be very handy behind the wheel. The other was that Scott Taylor was exceedingly drunk.
"You've seen his car. He's going to catch us. I never should have done this. So stupid!" Emily said.
"Trust me, Em," Madison said as she made her way through a sharp turn.
"I'm going to kill her. She won't do this again," Scott said as he approached that turn, gaining speed, too much speed. He veered over the center line, losing control, striking the protective barrier with enough force to send his car to over the edge. As it started to tumble, he went through the windshield, not having time time to register that his biggest mistake was not putting on his seat belt.
Madison and Emily hadn't seen it, meeting up with Cecilia as planned, only finding out the next day what happened. As the police report would later state, the cause of death was blunt force trauma in a one-vehicle accident where the driver was almost four times the legal limit.
It wasn't the original plan, but Emily was safe.
Some time later
"Here's to Madison," Emily said.
"Here, here!" Cecily and Kristin chipped in.
"Thanks, you guys," Madison said, as she clinked their wine glasses.
"Girl, we are so going to miss you," Kristin said.
"I know," Emily said. "Are you sure we can't change your mind?"
"I wish, but no, I'm getting transferred whether I like it or not," Madison said ruefully. For all the good feelings about where she grew up, this was the first place she'd truly felt like home.
The reality was that, for all its charms, her hometown was "Henry Jr.'s place." Here, in California, she'd thrived as Madison, eventually settling here where she met great friends, especially these three.
Emily was one of her co-workers, quite possibly the kindest person she'd ever met. Through her, she met her younger sister Cecily, who was taller, blonder and cut from the same cloth as a human being. Then there was Kristin, who she had a lot in common with. If Madison were a lesbian, she'd have been attracted to her, although given Kristin's girlfriend history, she wouldn't have been her type. Nevertheless, another great friend.
Over time, she trusted all three enough to reveal that she hadn't grown up as Madison, but kept some details private. That was Henry Jr.'s life.
Kristin spoke up, "Are you sure? I'm pretty sure I could get you on where I work. The pay not be as much, but it's a great place and pretty stable."
Madison sighed, "That's just it. The pay's too good, especially with it costing less to live there. That said, I am going to look to be able to transfer back when I get the chance."
The conversation continued, with all the memories and stories -- the costumes they wore for that Halloween show by the former boy band guy (Cecily dressed as Fiona from "Shrek") the disastrous double date Madison had with Kristin ("How did you not know he was gay and had smelly feet?") and so on.
But it became time for the gathering to end. Kristin left first so she could spend some time with her girlfriend, who worked as a fitness instructor, Cecily because she had an early conference call for work.
That left Madison and Emily.
"Well, we're all going to miss you, Maddie, especially me. You saved my life, I can't thank you enough. I wish I could repay you," Emily said.
"Seeing your face right now, Emily? That's the only repayment I need," Madison said.
Emily leaned over, embraced her and said it, "I mean it. I owe you."
Madison pulled back and looked at Emily, "You did it, because you're a strong woman who deserved a better life. And you're on your way to one. Never forget how good you are. You're the hero, Em."
Emily nodded back. With the help of her therapist and good friends, she was starting to believe it.
The two talked a little more before Emily had to leave as well, hailing a cab to the apartment she now shared with her sister.
"Good luck, girl. And stay in touch?" Emily said.
"You know it, Em."
The following morning
Madison took out the last of the things she had in her apartment, putting her suitcase and a few other important things in the trunk. She handed her keys over the apartment manager.
She took several deep breaths, looking at the building. This had been her place, her true home.
"Maybe one day, you'll be back, girl," Madison said with wistful uncertainty. "At least I hope so."
On her way out of town, she wanted one last treat, a stop at one of her favorite restaurants. She ordered her favorite-- a spicy chorizo omelette. As she sipped her coffee, she saw a familiar face come into the restaurant.
"Holy shit. It can't be," she thought.
It was John Elder, who went to her high school. He was one of those guys who was both jock and theater kid. And he didn't just do the latter to "meet chicks." He actually "worked at his craft," as they say. She saw it first hand because she, well, Henry, was in the casts, too.
"Please don't recognize me," she thought. "Oh, no. He's walking towards me. No, no, n-"
"Hi," he said. "Sorry to bother you, but could I borrow that front section?" he asked, pointing at the newspaper beside her.
"Um, sure. Here you go."
"Thanks, you okay?"
"Yeah, I just have a lot on my mind. I'm moving today because of my job."
"Well, this seems like a nice town, I'm just visiting on business, but it looks like a good place to settle down."
"It is, or was," she said. "I hate to leave it."
"That's too bad. What do you do?"
"I.T. By the way, I'm Lexi," she said, hoping to throw him off.
Before she knew it, Madison and John had roped themselves into a conversation. Here she was, talking with someone who was one of the hottest guys in her high school and he'd gotten even more attractive. And he didn't seem to recognize her.
The conversation went so well that, if she weren't moving and if he weren't her high school crush, she'd have asked for his number. But she was moving and so she made her move to leave.
"It was really nice meeting you, Lexi and if I may," John leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. "Good luck to you."
December 31, 2022
Madison looked at her face in the mirror as she applied her makeup, the preceding years having contributed to her dysphoria, the weight of regret having hung heavy.
She wished she'd taken Kristin up on that offer. As it turned out, the transfer could not have gotten worse.
Her new office was in a "right-to-work" state without protections for trans employees. It went well until, somehow, her supervisor, one Edward Corbin discovered she was trans. He was a smug man with all the charm of foot fungus, a man who took a hands-on interest in local politics. She later learned just how "hands-on" when his status as a self-loathing closet case when he was spotted at a hotel with the very anti-gay mayor.
That happened too late to help her, as Corbin had already made her life hell -- impossible requests, sabotaged work, performance reviews that went from perfect to terrible.
She documented what she could, but the company chucked her aside rather than deal with the headache, leaving her with a pittance of a severance.
Corbin's taking a flamethrower to her made it almost impossible to get a job. She had to move back home. Worse, the lack of a job forced her to detransition, because she just couldn't afford the care.
Back in her hometown, back to life as Henry, she withdrew, finally deactivating Madison's social media, leaving Emily, Cecily, Kristin and everybody else behind. All they knew was that she couldn't find work. Then she was gone. All they could do was hope that she'd somehow be okay.
She wasn't, but the last year changed things. Her sisters, Hannah and Hailey, had tried to no avail to bring Madison back.
It was Hank who did the trick. He had her come over to the house, saying he had "something important" to talk to her about.
She tried to beg off, but his tone grew stern, "Henry Michael Sander, I want you here in an hour."
Knowing the power of the invocation of the middle name, she paused her work. At least she didn't have to go into an office anymore, all the better to avoid people.
When she arrived, Hank motioned her into his office. His face showing more kindness than his voice did on the phone, he asked her to sit.
"I have to tell you that I'm proud of you in a lot of ways. You were dealt a bad hand, but you've come through with a good job where I hear they're happy with you."
"Thanks, Dad."
"But I'm not finished. See, I remember when you were young, how you were a bright happy kid until, you know. But then, when you started living as Madison, we saw our child happy again. We told you we had your back."
"I know, Dad."
"When you came back and started living as Henry. again, I thought it was because you'd explored your gender and found that living as a woman wasn't right for you. Your mom and I respected that."
"But, but that wasn't it."
"You told us it was, but it's become clear that you told us that because you wanted us to think you were happy. But that's not the case. You look more miserable now than you ever have. If we're going to have your back, we have to tell you we miss Madison."
"Dad, please. You know I can't risk it again," she said.
"Which brings me to why I wanted you to come over," Hank said. "I recently reconnected with an old college friend of mine who's moved here to take over his uncle's company. He could use someone with your IT expertise. I told him that you might be interested in the job and asked about their equality policies. He said they were top notch and that his trans daughter who heads up H.R. would kill him if they weren't."
"Are you saying what I think-"
"Yes, if you handle the interview, you've got the job. Madison can have a safe place to come back. It's something I know deep down that you've wanted. Now's your chance."
"Oh, Dad," Madison said, starting to cry as she leapt up to hug her dad. "Yes. Yes, I do. Thankyouthankyouthankyou."
Madison had indeed aced the interview. With the help of Corinne at H.R., who knew some people, she was back on HRT. She was full-time again not long after.
As the year came to an end, she was still feeling the pain of her time away, she resolved that in the new year, she wouldn't just exist, she would thrive.
December 27, 2023
The year had indeed gone well. Her endo had her on a higher dosage and her body took to it. Now, over a year later, if she didn't look like she did in her first transition, she was getting closer. She felt comfortable in her own skin, but also felt more than a twinge of regret.
She missed her California friends, but figured they'd moved on, that they'd be angry that she abandoned them. She'd always be grateful, but she thought it would be best if this were her life now.
She went to check her mail, nothing but the usual junk mail. But as she approached her apartment door, she saw a package just to the side. Picking it up, she saw a name she hadn't seen in forever on the return address -- Cecily Hilgendorf.
"Oh, my God. How did she find me?" Madison asked, tearing the package open and pulling out a letter first.
"Hey here, long time no see," Cecily wrote. "Sorry if this comes as a shock, but I've been trying to find you for a while with some sad news.
Emily passed away a year ago in an accident. She'd always wanted to reconnect with you, not just because you were a good friend, but because you saved her life that night.
I know this will be a shock, as it was to us. And it still hurts, as I suspect you're hurting now."
Madison set the letter down, and started to cry uncontrollably. "No, Em. Goddamit. No."
She didn't know how long she'd been crying, it felt like forever. She picked up the letter and began reading Cecily's words again. "But you need to know. Even though she was taken from us too soon, the years you helped give her getting away from Scott meant so much to all of us."
'You have no idea how much. Around the time you disappeared online, she started dating Greg. He is, to put it mildly, everything Scott wasn't. Their courtship was a fast one. They were married months later. She had two kids who got the best of both of them. In the red envelope, you'll see some pictures."
Madison stopped and sifted through to find the red envelope. She opened it and there were pictures of Emily, of Greg, who was undeniably handsome. "Nice catch, Em," she said sadly out of reflex. There were the two kids, the older one a brown-haired boy who looked like he was already a handful in the way boys of that age can be and a red-haired girl who was, in every way but that hair color, a spitting image of her mother. She started to cry again.
The letter continued, "That's Logan, he's six. And that's Madison, who's four."
"No, you're kidding me. No."
"Yes, she's named after you. Emily always told me that if she ever had a daughter, she was going to name her after you. As you remember, my sister was true to her word."
Madison cried again, more than the last time. This was too much.
"The last thing Emily did was save her life. A scaffolding fell. Logan was ahead of them a little further. Emily shoved Madison out of the way, but didn't have enough time to get out herself."
This was so much to take in. Her best friend in those years gone. She had kids, a family and she's gone. And naming her daughter after her? She didn't deserve that.
"The first point of all this is to let you know how grateful I am, how grateful Emily was, how grateful Greg and his family are, for the part you had in all of the good things Emily experienced. The second point is, we'd love to connect or reconnect, as the case may be. We've missed you so much and as we've been reminded, life is too short. I don't know why you disappeared, but I figure you had a good reason. Just know, you're always welcome back. Kristin says so, too. I could catch you up on her, but I'll save that as a little incentive for you. Please, stay in touch. We don't want to lose you again. Love, Cecily."
Madison was still crying when there was a knock on her door. Hannah came in, saying, "Hey, what's up, sis?"
She saw Madison, still not dressed for the day, her face red and her eyes swollen. "Oh, dear. What's the matter?"
Madison handed her the letter, only able to get out, "Remember what I told you about what happened in California?"
Hannah read the letter, crying herself while consoling her sister.
"I feel terrible. Emily's gone. She's gone and she probably thought-"
"Stop that, Maddie. If she really thought you hated her, I highly doubt she'd name her daughter after you."
"But-
"No buts about it. I don't pull rank against you as your older sister often, dear Madison, but I'm doing it now. You are going to reconnect with these people. You owe it to them and you owe it to yourself."
"You're right. I just hope they can forgive me," Madison said.
"If Cecily's any indication, I think you're in good shape," Hannah said.
Madison reactivated her old accounts, hoping that Kristin and Cecily would still be, but she went to Emily's first, scrolling past the posts of people expressing grief and loss to see what she said, looking at more photos.
Before she knew it, she heard that beeping sound. It was a PM from Kristin: "Howdy, stranger. ;) "
That cued a long talk with details, such as Kristin was getting married next year, ironically to the woman who ran that breakfast shop.
Meanwhile, Hailey, who couldn't wait to get out of her office, came over. Hannah left for a while, saying she had things to do.
Eventually, Madison was exhausted from all the emotions of the day, but Hannah returned with one more surprise.
"Madison, this is an extension of my prior rank pull," she said. "I want to make sure you follow through on this. So, I made some calls and you, me, and Hailey are cordially invited to spend New Year's at Emily's husband's place. Your friends will be there. The whole deal."
"But I can't-"
"Already taken care of, Maddie," Hannah said as she pulled three plane tickets out of her purse. "Get yourself ready tomorrow, because you're going West, young lady."
"I can't believe it. Are you serious?" Madison said, giving Hannah the second-biggest hug (behind the one to Dad) she'd ever given anyone in her whole life.
Two days later, Madison, Hailey and Hannah arrived on time, getting settle in their hotel. As much as she wanted to get a good night's sleep, Madison was too nervous thinking about tomorrow for that to happen, half-expecting to wake up back in the old house as Henry Jr.
She slept in, though. Nervously, she got ready, unsure of which outfit to go with until Hannah threw up her hands and said, "Come on, just wear the black dress already!"
They arrived outside the city at Greg's house. He came outside, greeting them warmly. As he hugged Madison, he said. "It's so great to finally meet you. Emily described you accurately."
It was clear this would be a day for hugs and tears, as Cecily and Kristin and her partner soon arrived.
There was so much to catch up on, mixed with most emotions in the book.
Greg had gone into the house, when he came out, there were two little kids in tow. "Madison, this is Logan."
"Hi!"
And this is Madison, "Hello, Madison."
"Hello, young lady. My name is Madison, too. I'm lucky to have that name."
"Mommy said Madison was a hero."
Her heart breaking inside, Madison said, "That's very sweet of your Mommy."
The two kids went back inside to get ready for Greg's parents to pick them up.
"I'm certainly not a hero, Greg. Emily overstated that," Madison told him. "I was just helping a friend in a time of need."
"I know, but you're still a good person and apparently a scary good driver," he said.
"Yeah, well, I had the advantage of having a great dad and not being drunk and blinded by rage. I'm so sorry I wasn't there for her all that time."
"I know and Emily knew," Greg said. "She was worried that you went back to your old life with your job situation and that's why you disappeared.
Madison nodded.
"She missed you a lot, but she understood, but she also never lost hope you'd be back and here you are," he said.
"But I came back too late," she said, crying.
"That's just bad luck, but, still, she was right. Cecily's thrilled, so's Kristin. And, you know, any time Aunt Madison wants to come over, you're always welcome."
"Oh, Greg. Cecily told me how great of a guy you were, but I think she undersold it," she said, giving him a hug.
"Now who's overstating things?" he said. "Come on, let's go back inside."
Madison made sure Cecily got her hug, too. "I'm so glad you got in touch with me. I'm just so sorry it was under these circumstances," she said.
"Me too," Cecily replied. "I'm sorry for what happened to you. Hannah told me all about it. I can't even imagine."
"It's not the same thing, Cecily. I wish I'd handled it better. I used to tell Emily all the time how strong was, that she deserved a better life and she got it. Now, she's gone and I screwed mine up for so long."
"Madison heal thyself," Cecily said.
"I'm working on it, but that is such an Emily thing to say."
"That's one of the nicest things anyone's ever said to me," Cecily said, tearing as she wrapped her arms around Madison.
Later in the midst everybody catching up, Kristin took Madison aside.
"Remember when I told you back then that our company was stable and a great place to work. You see, I'm in charge of hiring now and we have need for someone with your particular set of skills. We'd love to have you here," she said. After writing a number down she showed Madison, "And that's base, not counting benefits.
"Are you serious?"
"Never been more serious. We regretted letting you go the first time, Maddie. We don't want it to happen again."
Madison stepped outside to think. It was a big move, but, wow, she could actually do it. She could be back at Madison's place. "I think I might have t-"
That's when a blue sedan pulled into the driveway. The man who got out approached the house. As he got closer to the house, Madison's jaw dropped. He had a well-trimmed beard now, but...
"John?"
"Madison, so great to see you," he said.
"But what are you doing here?"
"I'm hear for New Year's Eve. Greg's my brother, stepbrother, actually. I moved to town a month ago because we went into business together," he said, before adding, "You look great, much better than you did in high school."
"Th-thanks."
"I mean, I thought you were cute then, but now?"
"Wait. You thought I was cute in high school and you didn't say anything?" she said.
"Well, I had some hangups back then, cared too much about what other people thought. I got over that crap in college," he said.
The two went back inside. With all the conversation possibilities, Madison and John gravitated towards each other, something Hailey noticed as she gave Hannah an elbow bump and subtly nodded in their direction.
Cecily came over to the pair and said, "Glad you're both here. I understand you went to high school together. This is Handsome Pete, I take it?"
Madison turned beet red, turned to John and said, "It's the nickname I gave you when I told them about a cute guy I had a crush on in high school."
He smiled and said, "Well, I guess what's good for the goose is good for the Sander."
"Dork," Madison said, giving him a playful shot to his upper arm. She looked at Cecily and said, "I take it John is how you found me?"
Before Cecily could respond, John said, "Guilty as charged. I knew that Cecily was looking for Madison and the story about how you got Emily away from that bastard Scott. But I only knew you as Lexi. It wasn't until last week when you came up in conversation that Cecily showed a pic of you with Emily that I realized. You should have seen her face when I told her. She got a hold of your parents and got your address and, well, here we are."
"Wait, you said 'Lexi.' You recognized me that day?
"Not at first, I was too busy enjoying your company, but I did eventually realize. It was your eyes, not as sad as I remember them looking in high school, but it seemed like you didn't want to be recognized. So, I played along."
"I guess we don't have to do that any more," she said.
"We certainly don't," John replied.
"Well, then, what's good for the Sander is good for the goose," she smirked.
"Madison, just for that, I'm going to have to kiss you," he replied.
She broke out into a huge smile and said, "Just for that, you have my permission."
The kiss may have only been a few seconds,but felt like hours. It was at least long enough for everyone to notice.
"Well, it looks like our sister's dating life is looking up again," Hailey said.
"I think you might be right," Hannah said, knowing that Madison hadn't dated at all since her detransition, as doing so then as a "gay man" would have sent her dysphoria off the charts.
As the day wore on, Madison realized how much she missed this place. And that was before John was in the picture. But she also had an idea.
She approached Kristin. "If you're serious about that offer, I'm in," she said. "I do have one other question. Do you have an accountancy position open? My sister Hailey has been looking for a be-"
"Look, Sander. You're a new hire. Do you think you can just try to use your connections to, sorry, I can't do this. Your other sister had the same idea and she brought a copy of Hailey's resume and I have to say it looks pretty good."
"Oh, oh. That's great," Madison said.
The good spirits continued through dinner. As it wound down, Greg mumbled an "Ahem."
Everyone looked in his direction. "After the last year, I can't pretend to know the reason for everything that's happened, but for as much as it hurts, it feels like Emily's still watching over us. She used to tell John about this friend she had who would have been perfect for him and that she always felt bad she couldn't introduce them. Well, I think she just has."
"Well, that's your cue," Kristin's fiance, Isabel, said. "Kiss her!"
And so John did with no small amount of passion.
When they finished, Madison smiled at him, saying, "You're going to kiss me because someone tells you to? I thought you didn't care what people thought."
He winked and said, "In this case, I'll make an exception."
Madison later slipped out to the patio without anyone looking, wine in hand. She resolved to never forget that wherever she lived was her place, her home. That said she couldn't wait to be back here, now probably with one of her sisters and definitely John. "Handsome? You definitely undersold that, Maddie," she thought.
She looked up at the sky, glad that it was so cloudless as to be perfect. She said, "Em, I told you that you were under no obligation to repay me anything at all, but after all this time, I think you have."
The clatter of the party felt more distant as she became lost in her thoughts. Her reverie was broken by sound of the patio door opening and her sisters moving next to her.
"You know, sis, it's getting late and your boyfriend has a spot next to him waiting," Hailey teasingly pronouncing 'boyfriend' like she was about to say they were "k-i-s-s-i-n-g in a tree."
Madison playfully elbowed her saying, "Watch it. Just because we might both be living here-" and they broke out laughing. She looked at Hannah and said,"Thank you so much for this."
"It wasn't anything I wouldn't do for either of you. Now, don't say I didn't get you anything," Hannah said, provoking more laughter.
It was Cecily's turn to poke her head out the door. "Hey, it's getting close to midnight. Ready to join us?"
Hailey and Hannah agreed and went back inside. Madison turned to follow them, seeing John waiting with a warm expression on his face. She looked back, gave one last look at that gorgeous night sky, raised her glass with the last of its wine and said, "Here's to Emily."
To The Bridge
By Marissa Lynn
Annika sat on the park bench, nursing her hot chocolate, flurries gently drifting down around her.
The last year went through her mind. 365 days ago, she resolved to fully take control, to live her life. It had started so well, so full of hope and possibility.
Then...yeah.
She looked over towards the bridge in the near distance. "I guess cocoa wouldn't have been the first choice for my last meal, but it is good. I can make it last a little longer. I'm not going anywhere anyway," she said quietly to no one in particular.
Earlier...
As she awoke, Annika felt so comfortable being spooned, Tony's arms around her. He wasn't a unicorn, but it turned out he was pretty darn good guy anyway.
They met when she stopped at the pizzeria where he worked. She was at an in-between stage, closer to leaving Drew behind and appearing more like herself, but not quite confident in her skills to pull it off.
But in any case, she felt something more than good customer service, especially after he came over to chat her up as she had her cheese slice and diet soda. He didn't do anything chasery, didn't even give her his phone number.
For his part, Tony came over because he was bored at first, but thought this person with the ash blonde hair was kind of cute, regardless of identity. Then it turned out they were engaging to talk to. And their name, Drew, could fit any gender.
After a couple more pizza lunches there, thanks to her job at a nearby bookstore, he asked, "I'm off tomorrow, would you like to go out? I know it's not the most original idea, but dinner and a movie? Your pick."
They wound up seeing a restored Marx Brothers movie at a revival house, as she'd always wanted to see something by them on the big screen.
The movie was early, so they went to some random bistro down the block. The dinner was good, but the conversation was even more enjoyable. They fell into an easy groove, one Annika hadn't felt with the first guy she dated.
Mark, who she'd met while still looking like a guy, seemed really nice at first, but then she realized he wasn't keen on being seen in certain places with her. She didn't have a chance to date guys before, not around Mom and Dad. But she knew enough not to settle for being a hidden secret.Then on their last date before she called it off, he started spouting off about the "trans agenda" like he was getting paid by Fox News.
Bullet dodged, especially as nice as Tony was. But still, even as andro as she'd been looking during her stops at Tonelli Pizza, she needed to tell him. And even though he showed no red flags, she wanted to make completely sure.
As they split a chocolate budino for dessert, she thought now was as good a time as any. "Tony, I just want to thank you for not being so hung-up on how I look."
"Why would I be? I really like you. You're a fantastic person."
"Woman. I mean, yes, I am a person, but I'm going to be transitioning. Like, soon," she replied.
Tony paused thoughtfully, taking it in. "I'd be less than honest if I tried to act surprised," he said. "I mean, even from the first time I saw you, I thought it might be possible. I didn't want to assume, but, you know, I just felt attracted to you, no matter who you were."
She exhaled in relief, "Whew. You didn't give me any indication you didn't, but you never know. So, I would love to go out on another date with you. Just one thing."
"Name it."
"Please don't call me Drew anymore. My parents named me Andrew and even shortening it, it doesn't feel right. I prefer Annika."
"Annika, it is, then. So, what would you like to do for a second date, Annika?"
Things moved quickly from there, a combination of how well they got along and Tony needing a new roommate after his brother, Rick, had a boyfriend to move in with.
Later, Annika reluctantly pulled herself from the spoon. Brushing her teeth, clad only in panties, she took stock of her body. It was only a few months, so she was nowhere close, but, she could see the improvement, the hints of curves, the softening in her face. That part about boob pain? Hadn't happened. Instead, they're itching like crazy.
"Morning beautiful," Tony said as he moved over her right shoulder to kiss her on the cheek.
"I'm so glad I left home. No. This is my home," she thought as she turned to kiss Tony back.
Later that day, she heard her phone buzzing. It was Lisa, her sister, the best part of growing up. The only one she still talked to.
Annika asked, "Hey, sis. What's up?," before she immediately knew something was wrong.
"It's Dad, Annika," Lisa said quietly. "We're at First General Hospital. They think Dad had a stroke. Mom's beside herself. If it was anything else, but- we need you here."
Annika was in shock. David Stevenson took reasonably good care of himself, even running the bake shop. The shop she was supposed to take over, but you have to live and breathe it. Not to mention his reminders of how Andrew needed to 'man up.' But, still, he let her go. She loved him and now- damn."
This whole time, she hadn't heard Tony asking her what was wrong. Completely on autopilot, she reached into the box in the bottom of her bedroom closet, pulling out a loose T-shirt, men's jeans and an old pair of sneakers, all "Andrew's."
"Honey. What is it?
"It's my father. Hospital. Stroke, they think, I gotta go," Annika said, hurrying to the bathroom sink so she could wash away all the traces of herself. Mom would lose it if she found out her son wasn't a son at all.
"I'll go with you, Annie. Just give me a minute."
"No!," she said more emphatically than she intended. "Sorry, it's just nobody knows besides Lisa. They don't know about me. And I can't go in there saying, 'Is dad okay? By the way, I'm a woman and this is my boyfriend."
Satisfied that she looked as much like her "twin" that she could, all traces of makeup gone, she said, "I'll let you know what's happening."
Tony embraced her tightly, but she said, "I. I need to go. I'm sorry."
There were aunts, uncles and cousins when Annika arrived, but she couldn't see her mother. Lisa made a beeline for her sister and took her aside.
"They have Dad stabilized. They say the next couple days will tell for sure, but they think he has a good chance to recover. Long-term, at least," Lisa said, before leaning in to whisper, "Sorry you have to be here like this, Annika."
"Yeah, well, it's what the Stevenson Men, do, right? We man up," she replied as the tears began flowing.
Those next 48 hours were a blur. Worries and stories. Prayers from those who still believed. Mom taking charge, as she always did. Annika remembered holding Dad's hand, talking to him and trying to will him back. He wasn't speaking, but things did improve. He was going to make it.
Annika kept up with Tony by text. He wanted badly to see her. She told him that she had to stay with family (of course Mom hadn't gotten rid of the old clothes that still fit), that now wasn't the time. She tried to force herself to play Andrew convincingly in front of everyone.
Sitting later at the computer desk in Andrew's bedroom, she got the rude awakening.
"Son, we need to talk," Maggie Stevenson said, giving Annika a stern look. "Good Oven has to reopen. The staff there can fill in, but we need someone who knows things the way your father does, like you do. He was training Carlos, but then he got an offer to have his own place upstate and it was too good. Andrew, you need to run Good Oven."
"Mom, I-I can't. I have a life I need to get back to. I have a good job," Annika said, stopping herself before she could say she had a boyfriend. "I can't do it now. Dad and I went over this. We went over this."
"I didn't like it then and I don't like it now," Maggie said. "Your father screwed up letting you slide. You might only care about yourself, but what about everybody who works at the shop? You need to stop being so selfish and be a man, Andrew. Do the right thing for once. And for God's sake, get a haircut and stop mincing around. I'm getting questions. It's embarrassing."
Crestfallen, Annika was alone with her thoughts, feeling absolutely lost. She could feel everything she'd built crumbling, nothing doing more damage than "friendly" fire, realizing she wasn't as free as she thought.
Dad built Good Oven from the ground up. She couldn't let it fail, not with everybody there. They didn't ask for this. "They shouldn't be hurt because I'm so self-absorbed. I, okay, I can do this. Until Dad comes back or we can find a replacement," Annika told herself. "But what do I tell Tony?"
"You can't be Drew again. It won't work. It will hurt you too much," Tony said in their apartment.
"You think I want to? Jesus, Tony. I have to put everything aside for this, but I can't just think about myself."
"What about us? Annika, things have been so good. I love you, but I can't watch you put yourself through this. I can't watch you destroy yourself to please other people."
"Nobody's asking you too. In fact, it's better if you don't."
"What?!?!?"
"Tony. You deserve better than me, to wait on me. I have to do this. I'm not going let you tell me I can't."
"Dammit, Annie-"
"Andrew. It has to be Andrew. Annika dated Tony. Andrew can't."
It degenerated from there -- two hurt people hurting each other and themselves. Andrew stormed out, leaving Tony alone in what used to be their apartment with nothing but himself and Annika's ghost.
Andrew settled into running Good Oven, picking up pretty quickly, trying to do as his father did. He managed to bury Annika enough that Maggie stopped giving him crap.
He tried to broach the idea of bringing one of the existing staff up to speed to take over, Mario and Lauren, especially. But Mom wasn't hearing it.
The bakery was churning out good product. The customers seemed happy. Andrew faked it, but Lisa was the only one paying attention enough to notice.
She tried to offer a shoulder to lean on, which he took advantage of at first, but eventually, he fell into a pattern -- Work, go home, stay in his bedroom alone, sleep, wake up, repeat.
Lisa felt powerless, watching her sister replaced by a zombie-eyed automaton. That light she got to see in Annika's eyes had disappeared. She was worried, but she had things on her plate, too, classes and exams.
Andrew avoided Maggie as much as he could. Like Lisa, he figured Queen Maggie wouldn't care.
But she was noticing. Andrew, even with his "differences" never caused any major trouble. But this. This Andrew, something wasn't right. Maybe she pushed him too hard. "David's getting better. He'd know what to say. I feel like I'm saving Good Oven, but losing my child," she thought.
The year was drawing to a close. Not even Christmas was drawing Andrew out of the steady spiral that was exponentially gaining speed. He never felt more fake, more detached from his own body, from the world. As he opened his last present with a plastic smile, it cemented it. This was a trap, one without an escape hatch. He was never getting out of this, unless...yes, this had to be it.
Over the next few days, he formulated his plan. Just a little shopping before then. New Year's Eve was a day off. No obligations, easy enough to slip away unnoticed. Mom had been bugging him to leave the house. Perfect.
That morning, Andrew got up early, feeling rather calm, knowing that Mom wouldn't be back for a couple hours. Out came a hidden stash -- Jeans, a cute pair of boots, a salmon-colored sweater, some make up and the one item of her old clothes she never gave up, this cute red coat.
Annika hadn't appeared in months, but she'd be the one to say goodbye. She'd written the note for Lisa, already sealed in the envelope. She'd have rather written it for someone else, but Lisa was the only one who knew her. Hopefully, she'll understand.
"Sorry, sis," she said.
She futzed around with her hair. Maggie had stopped nagging her about it, odd, but Annika was too far gone to notice. It had grown back enough that she could get it looking like a cute pixie cut.
With that, it was time. She knew where she needed to end, but there was one other goodbye to take care of first.
Meanwhile, Maggie had roped Lisa into finishing some errands with her. They stopped for a quick breakfast bite at some nice little corner spot.
"I'm worried about your brother, Lisa. Has he talked to you about anything?" Maggie asked.
"Not really, not for a while. What's wrong?"
"It's just. I don't know. I remember when Andrew was young, he used to have such a spirit about him, but then as he got older. And it seems worse now. I just. I don't know. I feel like I've failed him somehow."
"Well..."
"What, Lisa? Spit it out."
"Okay, Mom," Lisa said, setting down her bacon, egg and cheese and taking a deep breath, ready to say what she felt like she'd held on to for far too long. "Look, you and Dad always had your ideas about who Andrew should be. How to be a 'Stevenson Man.' Like you wanted Andrew to be a mini-me of Dad."
"That's not exactly-"
"Isn't it, though? Tell me that you didn't want Andrew there at Good Oven all along, taking over the family business. You forced him into it. You never gave him time to breathe. And then? Then, when Andrew finally breaks free of it all, this happens and, instead of letting Mario and Lauren take over, you guilt trip Andrew into coming back."
"But-"
"And it's not just about the business. Andrew had a life. Andrew had someone he loved and you just stripped it all away. All because you care too damn much about what other people think and too damn little about your own child. And it's destroying her. Jesus! You can't even see it! You never, ever notice how much you hurt her!"
Lisa's pent-up anger left her unable to realize that she'd just outed her sister, only registering the changed expression on Maggie's face.
"Her?"
"Dammit! She made me swear I would never tell, but you got me so upset. Screw it. Yes, her name is Annika. She left the house, left Good Oven, for a life as Annika. She had a great job, a really nice boyfriend who she gave up for you, who, by the way, is exactly the kind of guy you wish I'd bring home."
"I never knew," a shaken Maggie said. "How could I have known?" before memories hit, "Oh, God. I used to catch Andrew in my clothes. I made him stop."
"You did. You never gave her a chance. You never made things safe enough for her to tell you and Dad. So, there you go, you have two daughters. And I'm going to go check up on Annika now. You can finish this erranding yourself."
Into the doors at the Constacare Rehab Center, Annika made her way through, the workers not really paying attention. She knew the way to Dad's room, having been there so many times, encouraging him, her one source of light this whole time. Even if he likely wouldn't be the old Dave at Good Oven, he was coming back. He could communicate with a speech program on a tablet. Doctors felt he'd be able to talk soon. She felt bad she'd miss that, but things had to be done.
The tablet was set aside, but Annika didn't notice.
She stood before David and waved, that's when she realized he was asleep.
"Hi, dad. It's me. Surprise, I guess," she whispered.
"This is me, the real me. I know you always tried to make me a real man. I've tried almost all my life. I tried all these months since you've been sick and I just can't do it. It hurts too much. And there's no way out of it. Mom won't let me. Life won't let me. God, if she exists, doesn't care. I, I have to go. I have to say goodbye. I just, I just thought, you should meet the real me, to know that you have two daughters -- Lisa and Annika. That's me, Annika Louise Stevenson. I wish I could have gotten to know you, but, but maybe in another life."
She kissed the fingers of her right hand, touching his, saying, "Love you, daddy."
Annika turned and walked out the door, unaware that David had awakened and heard most of what she'd said. He thought he was dreaming it until she touched his hand, but he had no way to tell anyone. He reached as well as he could for the tablet. But then, he thought about the call button, which he began to press as urgently as he could.
Lisa arrived at the house. It was quiet. Annika might still be asleep, so she quietly went up the stairs.
Peeking into her room, she saw an empty box sitting on the bed and an envelope next to it, with the words, "Dear Lisa" written on it.
Lisa opened it.
"Oh, shit! No! Annika!"
An agitated David got the nurse to bring his tablet to him. He tried to get the message out as quickly as he could -- "Save my daughter. In danger. Save my daughter."
Nurse Perkins, one of his regulars, said, "Lisa? What's wrong."
David, with all the will he had, spoke: "No, Ann- Annika. Save. Annika. Tell Mag. Tell Lisa. Save Annika."
The nurse didn't know an Annika, but David was so emphatic, the pain in his face indicated something was wrong. She went to call Maggie Stevenson.
Lisa started frantically searching for her sister, but realized she needed to call her mother first.
"Mom! It's Annika!"
"What?"
"It's Annika. I got to the house and she wasn't there. I found a note."
Maggie's blood froze. "Note?"
"Yes! A note! She's going to hurt herself. She said I was supposed to tell you goodbye. We need to find her, and you'd better call her Annika if you find her first!"
"Oh, dear God! But how will I know how to find her?"
"Look. I've got some pics of Annika and I. I'll text them to you now. I have some ideas of where to look, I'm thinking closer to where she lived with Tony, by the river on the south side. He's the guy you'll see in some of the pics. Look, let's just find her. And remember, call her Annika!"
Lisa hung up. She sent Maggie the photos,went back to the house, got the keys to Dad's old beater where she knew they'd be and started driving to Annika's neighborhood.
Maggie's brain was partly going a million miles an hour, but maternal instinct, or maybe maternal adrenaline, had her focused. This was all such a shock, but she loved her child. Her daughter? So be it, her daughter. She had no frame of reference, so she paused to thumb through the photos. She saw a smile she hadn't seen since, what, early grade school? Her daughter, looking the exact opposite of what she'd been seeing lately, full of life instead. Annika needed that life. Maggie knew she had to make it right.
Her phone buzzed. It was the rehab facility, which sent her into new worry.
"Is something wrong with David?"
"No, not anything like that," Nurse Perkins said. He just spoke, in fact. Does the name Annika mean anything to you?"
"Where could she be? I can't call the cops, because they might make it worse," Lisa thought, racking her brain as she looked at her phone, thumbing through the pictures of the two of them when something caught her eye.
It was a day where two of them went to an exhibit about outsider music at this museum, then they went and hung out at Riverbank Park. Her and Annika, big smiles together, the bridge behind them.
She quick dialed. "Mom, you're closer to Riverbank Park than I am. Go there now! The park first before the bridge! I think that's where Annika is!"
"Oh, God. I'm two blocks away! I'll call you!"
Lisa thought, "Please still be there, girl. I know you. Please be there."
She knew she had one more call to make, dialing the number.
Maggie reached the intersection catty corner from the park. She started scanning, looking for anyone who might be her. It'd been so long since she'd told her not to dress like that, no, not time for that. She looked at her texts again, at the pictures Lisa had sent her. There it is, red long coat. Shorter hair now, but long red coat.
As she reached the park's edge, she started yelling, "Annika! Annika! Annie!, then quieter, "Please God, please don't be on that bridge. Please don't let me be too late!"
Annika was enjoying the warmth inside. The second hot chocolate steeled her nerves. "After all, I don't think anyone would deny the condemned having two cocoas instead of one," she thought, grimly chuckling to herself.
An anguished voice punctured her depressed reverie.
"Annika! Annika!"
"That has to be another Annika. Wait. Mom?"
As she turned in the direction of the voice, Maggie spotted that telltale coat. "Annika, stay there! Please! Don't move!"
Her first impulse was to think, "No, you'll spoil everything, go away" until she realized, "She's not calling me Andrew? How the hell does she know?"
"Oh, thank God, Annika," Maggie said as she sat down next to her, immediately giving her a big hug, trying to embrace some will to live back into her.
"I'm so sorry, Annika. Please stay with us. I won't let you go."
"But, how? I never t-?"
"Your sister told me today. She slipped when she was defending you. I'm so sorry and I know your dad is, too. We had no idea, but we should have."
Annika was shocked, but managed to get the words out. "I wanted to tell you, but I never could. You'd tell me 'boys don't do that', 'man up', all that stuff."
"I was wrong, Annika," Maggie said, making sure to repeat the name. "I couldn't put my finger on it. But ever since you came back, I could see something was wrong. Like it wasn't just you having to run the bakery, which I know you don't want to do. But finding this out, it's like the puzzle pieces are in place. There were signs I missed, things I thought were a phase. But it's starting to make sense now."
"It hurts so much. How can I trust you now? After all these years?
"One, I'm here, Annika. I don't want to lose you, ever. And your father? He knows. You got him to speak! He told the nurse I was supposed to save you and he knew you're Annika."
"Oh, my God. He heard me. I went to see him first, to say goodbye. I thought he was asleep."
"I guess you woke him up. You and Lisa woke us both up. Look, if you want to leave Good Oven, you have my full permission. I'm Queen Maggie, you know. And yes, I know you and your sister call me that."
"Wow, I-"
"And if you want to stay, or need to stay until you can find the job you want, I want you there as Annika, as long as you're comfortable."
"I just don't know what to say. When I was a kid, I used to dream about you and Dad-, but I never believed it could happen."
"Believe it," Maggie said, grasping Annika's arm firmly. "I want us as a family, all four of us, your father and I. You and Lisa. And honestly, I want you and I to go to counseling, because I never want us to get to this point again."
"I think I'd like that, Mom and, yeah, I think we both could really use it," Annika replied, hope outweighing despair for the first time in forever. "I'd really like th-Tony?!?!?"
She saw her sister and her ex approaching her.
Lisa sprinted ahead getting there first, "Oh, my God, Annie. Never do this again. Never!"
"I won't. I promise," Annika said, pulling back to look Lisa in the eyes. "I'm so sorry. I promise. Your kid sister's not going away. Ever."
"She'd better not," Lisa said as they resumed hugging. She looked over at Tony. She told Annika, "By the way, Tony made sure I kept all your clothes and stuff safe for you. Except he couldn't find your coat."
Lisa was now seeing in Tony's face what he'd lost over all these months and what he'd almost lost today. She turned Annika slightly so she could see that expression,too.
Even waterproof mascara can only hold up so long. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd have moved on by now," Annika asked him.
"How could I? I've missed you every day and now this, I, I never should have let you."
"I pushed you away as much as you pulled away. I didn't want you to be around me because it would have hurt me too much. I'd have reminded me of what I lost, that I couldn't be Annika anymore."
"So, I was your first step in giving up?"
She hadn't thought of it that way, "I suppose so. I mean, you didn't really fight it."
"No, I didn't," Tony replied. "But I'm going to now. I'm not leaving you easily, Annika. Or Drew. No matter what. Remember that first time you walked into Tonelli's? I didn't know either name. I just thought, 'This person is likeable and they're cute."
Trying in vain to hold back tears, she said. "Annika. It's going to be Annika."
"Damn right she is." Everyone realized at the same moment that it was Maggie who said it.
"Mom, I don't know about you, I could use a hot chocolate? You two, too?? My treat," Lisa said.
Tony and Annika nodded as Lisa motioned her mother to join her on the walk to the cart.
"You two. I like the sound of that," Annika said, kissing Tony before they hugged tightly. Between mom, Lisa and him, she was starting to feel secure in a way she hadn't had for a long time, if ever..
"Me, too. You know, I'd planned on spending tonight with my family, but if it's okay with you, I'd rather-"
"Yes, Tony, Yes. I'd like that. A lot. And I don't think they'd mind. I think we need to see Dad first. I'd say you could join us later, but I have a feeling you'd rather stay with me and, I guess it's about time my father met my boyfriend, right?"
"Sure," Tony said, holding her hand as she placed her head on his shoulder "Our cocoa's here."
Maggie and Lisa handed them the drinks. "I called your father to let him know you're okay. He told me to say he loves you."
"Oh, Dad," Annika started to cry again.
"I guess nobody will mind if the pardoned has three cocoas for a meal," she thought, her eyes, through the tears, showing a light that hadn't been there for a long time.
Maggie lovingly put a hand on her youngest daughter's shoulder. "Welcome to the Stevenson women. It looks like we're off to a good head start on the new year."
"Definitely," Annika said, as she resolved to herself that this New Year's, she would stay around to see the next year, to see her future.
Feeling her mom's and Tony's touch, seeing Lisa's warm face, knowing that Dad loved her, she knew she wouldn't be doing it alone.
She would live.
On the cusp of living authentically, Allison Szymanski hopes for one final quiet New Year's Eve with family. But the best laid plans of mice and trans women...
Treehouse
By Marissa Lynn
New Year's Eve
Allison pulled the hood of her sweatshirt over her eyes. She zipped up her jacket, glancing at the walls, grateful that the steps to the old treehouse still held.
This is where she needed to be - surrounded by childhood memories and no actual people. Her dad had done good work on it, which was no surprise since he built actual houses for a living.
It had been her own little fortress of solitude, especially after her brother Connor became more interested in baseball and, especially, pick-up basketball.
She chuckled at how, for years, she could beat him at HORSE because she was better at shooting from long range even though he was the one who got a Division II scholarship. Of course, Connor had no idea he was losing to a girl the whole time.
Nobody did. Except Gina.
Even though Allison played basketball, it was off the bench. She, or rather Alex, as she was known, could shoot threes and pass the ball well, but her slight frame, which never filled out, gave her problems defensively. That frame left out football and she couldn't hit a breaking pitch to save her life, so basketball, her favorite sport anyway, allowed her sufficient jock cover.
Not that it fooled Gina.
Not when they hung out as kids, their two-year age difference mattering less than the one with Connor, since Allison had more in common with her younger sister. It was a matter of time before Gina picked up on it.
It was here in the tree house. The longer hours of daylight in the summer gave Allison free time to read in solitude, books she would have gotten crap for reading in school. The sci-fi stuff she liked worked as cover for Alex, but the romances were solely for her.
Allison remembered that day. The temperature was perfect, with a complete lack of humidity on a Saturday. She'd found a book that was "boy meets girl, girl likes boy, boy likes girl, problems ensue, boy and girl wind up together," but the girl was like her, except, you know, actually out. At some point, she zonked out in the best sleep she'd had all week.
She woke up to see her kid sister sitting there, thumbing through the book.
"This looks good. Can I borrow it when you're finished?"
"Um, sure."
"Cool. I'm guessing this was a good find for you?"
"What do you mean?
"You like a lot of the same kind of books I do, but Rebecca seems like she'd be relatable to you?"
"Maybe?"
"It's okay if she is. And if she is, that stays with me. Hold on a second, be right back."
Allison nervously waited, not knowing what to say or how much Gina knew. She remembered when she did creative writing things in grade school, she wrote and drew about a girl named Allie. She related to her, too.
Gina popped her head into the entrance, tossing a book of her own towards where she'd been sitting. As she sat down, she handed Allison the book, "Shadowboxing For Two."
Allison looked at the back cover, seeing the character names -- Ellie and Amanda -- the synopsis and, oh, it's "Girl meets girl and complications ensue."
Gina, smiling, said, "If I'm right, we're even. If I'm not, I trust you."
"You're right. I find someone to relate to in these books, but not usually this much. Books like that are hard to find."
"I can imagine. So, Alexa? Lexi? Rebecca?"
"Allison."
"Allison. If it works for you, it works for me. And I guess you're going to be the straight girl in the family."
"That seems to be the case, not that I can do much about it for now."
"Same. I think Dad would be cool, but Mom? She doesn't like the idea of me bringing a boy home, but a girl?"
"Yeah, she'd be fine with me dating a girl? But being one? And dating boys? I have to wait 'til college. This sucks"
"It does. But we've got each others backs. Sooo, does this mean you'll back me up more on movie nights when Connor wants to watch '2 Fast 2 Die From Breaking The Laws of Physics'?"
Allison laughed, "What? As if you've never driven a $200,000 car off a 1,000-foot cliff and walked away with only bruises? Deal."
It wasn't a surprise, then, that it was Gina who joined a much quieter Allison in the colder treehouse.
"Hey. What's up, sis?"
"Thinking."
"What about?"
"That this is the last family New Year where it feels normal. By this time next year, Mom may not want me back."
"What's normal? She may not want me back, either. But Dad's on our side and he'll be here today. Connor? Who knows? But maybe we'll have chosen family."
"Maybe. I just wish. I don't know. Maybe I should have waited to until the new year start HRT. I'd have been likely to cry anyway.
"Look, we're going to have good food. And at least they'll allow you to drink."
"Like you won't be sneaking some."
"Like I already haven't?"
Allison laughed. She tucked her auburn hair back behind her ears, tying the back into a low ponytail, attempting to psych herself into butching up as much as she could. "Alright, let's do this."
*****
Gina's hiding was easier, as her girlfriend, Miranda, had other plans for the night. And she was ready for Mom to give her grief for the purple pixie cut with the side part. But the lure of pierogi, made from Babcia Szymanski's recipe, was some form of compensation.
Sure, it was a bummer that Nana was at Aunt Connie's this year. She got the distinct feeling her grandmother knew, even more than her mom did.
Allison could make do watching sports with Connor, who was recovering from a knee injury, as long as she could make herself not wince every time he referred to as "bro."
"Don't get used to that, Connor."
Things were, as Allison hoped, normal until her mother came in, wanting help from her.
"I need to pick up the rest of what we need for tonight before your father gets here. Can you help me?" Sally asked, although she wasn't really asking.
"Sure, Mom," Allison said, not really looking forward to being alone with her.
"She's going to want to talk. I can feel it."
It was a short drive to the grocery store, but Sally was going to make it as uncomfortable as possible.
"So, son." ("Bingo.")
"I know you're doing well at school, but I hope you're finding time for a social life" ("Here we go.")
"Have you found a nice young woman?" ("I AM a nice young woman.")
"Mom, I'm busy. My grades are good."
"I know, Alex, but I worry about you." ("Where is the sinkhole to swallow this SUV?")
"I'm fine, really. How's it going at the library?"
"Really well, especially since we lucked out on budget cuts."
"That's good, Mom. Focus on talking about this and please ignore me."
As Allison stepped out of the SUV, Sally, with a look that felt off, handed her a slip of paper. "If you grab these things, I'll take care of the rest."
Standing in the produce section, Allison cursed herself for not already coming out to her parents. They had enough going on, with Dad having moved out while they were supposedly "working on things."
She put the bag of beets on the scale, thinking of when she stopped caring what Sally thought. It was at the end of her senior season. It was one of the best games she'd ever played, the proverbial rim feeling as wide as the ocean, 27 points off the bench, but they'd lost by three.
She fixed her close-cropped hair in the mirror before she left the locker room, thinking to herself, "This is the last time I have a haircut like this."
Allison let her hair grow that spring, also starting to be less concerned with looking traditionally masculine. Gina, her queer girl source, helped her out with prom. Allison and Laura Lindsay served as mutual beards.
To be more accurate, Allison told herself she didn't care what Sally thought. She actually cared. A lot. That reality caused her more self-hatred than being trans ever had.
With everything on the list in her basket, she searched for Sally, finding her next to the tortilla chips.
"Thanks, Alex. Let's get going. I'm sure everyone's getting hungry."
"Just a ride home. Just keep it small talk."
As Allison, put on her seat belt, Sally asked, "When are you going to do something about your hair?" ("Well, shit.")
"My hair is fine, Mom."
"It makes you look effeminate. ("That's the damn point.")
"So?"
"Don't be so flippant. Appearance matters and it makes you look-" ("Oh screw it")
"Fruity? Queeny? Gay?"
"What's gotten into you?"
"What if I were gay, Mom? What would be so bad if I were?"
"You need to start thinking of your future, the image you present to the world has to be-"
"Funny you should say that. I've been thinking the same thing."
"What? Well, why-"
"Because, contrary to what's going through your head right now, I'm not gay."
"That's good, but-"
"I do love men, though. I've met some at college who are mouthwateringly hot, in fact."
"Why are you talking like this? So disrespectful."
"I don't know, Mom. Maybe because I'm tired. Why not have Connor help you? He can walk fine. I know why. You wanted to corner me. I mean, it's not like I can just open the door, jump out and execute a rolling stop."
"Is it wrong for me to be concerned about you? I want you do the right thing. You're my son."
"That's where you're wrong. I'm not your son. I'm your daughter."
"Don't be ridiculous. You're a young man."
"No. I'm not."
"This is just some ridiculous phase."
"Phase?!?!? I've felt this for years. If not as long as I can remember, pretty damn close. And I'm finally doing something about it."
"What are you saying?"
As Sally pulled into the driveway, Allison said, "What I'm saying is 'Say goodbye to Alex.' My name is Allison. I've already started the process."
"You can't do this. You're being irrational."
"Mom, I've never been more rational in my life. God, it feels good to finally say it. I tried to tell you years ago and you never listened!"
"You're being foolish and you need to stop this now."
"No, I don't and I won't."
"I forbid it."
"God. You just. This is why Dad left you!"
Sally stood in silence as Allison stormed in the house, heading straight for her old bedroom, starting to put things back into her overnight bag.
Gina heard her sister's angry curses, stepping into the room.
"What's wrong?"
"Mom. She just can't stop badgering me. 'Cut your hair. Be a man.' No more. I told her. She knows I'm Allison now. She knows."
"And she responded like you thought."
"To the letter. Sorry, sis. I can't be here. I thought it could hold together, but it can't. I need to get out," Allison said, giving Gina a quick hug as she left.
Connor, by now wondering what the commotion was about, was almost to the foot of the stairs when Allison got there.
"Alex, what's wrong? Mom looked all pissed and so do you."
"She didn't tell you? Okay, fine. You have two sisters, okay? I'm trans. You want to come after me for that, too?"
At first too caught off guard, he said, "No. Why would I?"
"Yeah, well, thanks. But I have to go back to my apartment. Give my love to Dad, but I can't be near Mom right now. By the way, it's Allison."
Bruce Szymanski was looking forward to getting back home. He and Sally had been making progress, Sally especially. She'd seem to realize this was the wakeup call she needed. Knock on wood, this trial separation would be over soon and he'd be back under this roof.
He opened the door, expecting to be greeted with a festive family. Instead, he got no one? He walked into the living room to find Connor and Gina talking about something that they immediately hushed up about upon seeing him.
"Great to see you two. So, where's Alex and your mother?"
Gina and Connor looked at each other, before she spoke quietly, "Dad, can you sit down? And please keep it quiet so Mom doesn't come in here. I'll take this, Connor, since I've known about this longer. Dad should probably hear it from me than Mom."
Bruce's confusion was clearly evident, but before he could ask anything, Gina spoke again.
"Look, Dad. I shouldn't be the one to tell you this, but it kind of blew up. Alex, um, isn't really Alex. She's transgender and she's known for a while. She's on hormones now. Mom was pestering her about her hair and stuff and she point blank told her. Allison let her have it."
"Allison?" Bruce's mind was racing. He suspected his middle child was gay, but how had he missed this?
"I'm surprised, too, Dad," Connor said. "I figured she liked guys, especially after she took Laura Lindsay to prom. But who you're attracted to has nothing to do with you are. If she's attracted only to men, she's straight. Or bi. Or pansexual."
Gina looked at Connor. He shrugged and said, "What? I know stuff."
"Okay, okay. Where's your sister now?"
"Probably on her way back to her apartment."
"Alright, we can't leave her alone. Let me talk to your mother first."
Bruce sighed before walking into the kitchen. So much progress and now, this. "Stay calm. This is about our daughter."
"Bruce, there you are. It's all turned to crap. Our son thinks he's-"
"She."
"What? You're not actually going to indulge this, this fantasy, are you?"
"What I'm going to do is show our daughter, our newest daughter, that I care about her. I would hope you'd do the same. Even if you don't understand, she's still your child."
"I can't. You know how is for people like that. How can I allow him to get hurt?"
Bruce shook his head. "You already took care of that. Connor, Gina and I are going after her. You're welcome to come with us."
"I. I can't."
"And here I was, about to bring up moving back in. Maybe that was a bad idea, Sal."
Bruce left the room. Connor and Gina had their jackets on, ready to go.
Sally slumped down, elbows on the kitchen table, head in hands. She was utterly alone, having no idea how she'd wound up there. She just wanted what was best for her children, for them to be safe, to be right. Alex and Bruce told her off. The looks on Connor's and Gina's faces as they left.
Sally had clearly had stepped in it and she knew it.
"I've tried to be better and this happens. Alex up and pulls this out of nowhere and throws it in my face? No, no. You went after him. You pushed him, her? God, I don't know anymore."
Without even thinking, Sally went up the stairs, pausing to look mournfully inside her middle child's old room. "Did I know you at all?" she asked before finding the second, smaller set of stairs.
She stepped into the attic, sat down and started to cry, utterly alone in this by her own hand. She had no idea how long, it was probably only minutes, that she pulled her head from her hands. Even with blurred vision, she had looked up to see a box marked "Alex" sitting across from her.
Allison wasn't bothering to pretend at her apartment, her look basically consisting of ripping off "his" clothes in disgust, then switching to a scoop neck t-shirt and loose-fitting capris before she plopped on to the bed, clutching a stuffed tiger and unleashing all the hurt she felt at the rejection she expected finally happening.
Sally saw the boxes for the others. Connor had fit the first child script, a lot like his father. Gina was Gina. She had a feeling she was lesbian or, at least, what do they call it,"queer"? She'd wanted to confront her about it, but she knew it would be pointless. At least Alex felt like someone she could salvage, someone more malleable.
She took the lid off Alex's box. It was full of newspaper clippings, report cards, a somewhat dusty compilation of the early years of his life, her life, their life.
Alex, not as good a player as Connor, but still a key part of the team. He didn't seem to smile much in the high school photos, the ones for the yearbook looked pasted on. Alex had always just said they didn't like having their picture taken.
The honor rolls, always good in the classroom. She reached the grade school report cards -- "Smart", "helpful", "rather quiet."
"Didn't use to be that way. I remember when they were younger. Alex used to dance around the house."
Towards the bottom, she came some things in Alex's handwriting (they used to love to write), drawings with colored pencils and crayon. A girl with long, curly red hair, named Allie, in different stories who flew planes, was a superhero or trying to save a kingdom.
She started reading the last one. It read:
"Allie told the dragon she was a princess.
The dragon told her, 'Your mommy said you can't be a princess. That is for other girls. Not you.'
Allie said she told her Mom.
The dragon said 'You did?'
Allie said, 'You lied. Mom said I can be a princess.'
She sit the then hit the dragon with her sword. The kingdom was safe and happy."
The words repeated in Sally's head: "I tried to tell you years ago and you never listened!"
"Oh, my God. She did."
Bruce drove as Connor sat next to him in the passenger seat. Gina filled them in on how she'd been Allison's confidant, how she'd found out.
"So she knew you liked girls, huh. I bet I knew before she did," Connor said.
"But how would you-"
"Gina, you had a bad habit of borrowing my red pens and not returning them. There was this book named after a Fiona Apple song. Shadowboxer?" It was on your desk next to the pen."
"Something like that, not Fiona, though. I suppose you knew, too, dad?"
"Not the same way, but pretty much, Gina. I knew Connor liked girls when he was young. You were kind of the same. I know you hang around a lot with that Miranda girl, too."
"So you've got that figured out, too. I can bring her by now as my girlfriend, since the cat's out of the bag and all."
"Absolutely. So, um, is your sister seeing anyone?"
"Not at the moment. She went on a few dates and I think she might have fooled around senior year of high school, but nothing serious. She wants a guy who likes women and gay men aren't that."
Bruce nodded. He knew he hadn't been vocal enough, because Allison internalized things a lot more. Just like her mother. It wasn't a new year yet, but no time like the present to follow through on a resolution to be more proactive.
"Left turn at the next light?" he asked Gina.
"Yeah. Then three blocks down, then turn right just past the corner. Apartment 1E."
"Got it. Ready to meet your sister, Connor?"
"I already have. So have you."
"Yes, but you know what I mean. I just hope she's ready for us."
"Dad, she's been waiting for this most of her life. She's ready."
Bruce finally found a place to park, next to a pickup that looked like it came out on the losing end of a police chase.
As they approached the door, Gina said, "Let me knock, okay?"
Her apartment didn't have the memories of the treehouse, but it was a place for quiet and, shit, who's knocking now?
"Allison? It's Gina. Can I come in, please?"
Sigh. "Okay, coming." She set Benedict, the tiger, down on the bed and went to the front door. She opened it and saw- "Dad?"
"Hello, Allison."
Dad was looking right at her, but no words could come out of her mouth.
"Look, sis. I feel kind of stupid standing out here," Connor said as he stuck his head in so Allison could see.
"Yeah, okay, come in."
Bruce was the last to approach. Giving her the biggest hug of his life, he said, "Allison, I love you. I'm so sorry."
That unlocked the door. As much conflict as she had with Sally, she was just as frustrated that she hadn't been able to be open with her dad.
So, there were a lot of questions and emotions, catching up on so much lost time. Even Connor realized how much he'd missed out on.
Bruce couldn't help but see how Allison was so much more alive and animated, even as rough as the day had been. His phone buzzed. He thought about ignoring it when he saw the number, but changed his mind.
"Give me a minute," he said, stepping outside the apartment. "What is it, Sal?"
"How? How's Allison?"
"Did you just call her Allison?"
"I did, Bruce. You were right. I have hurt her and not just today. I've hurt you, too. I'm sorry. Look, I need to talk to Allison, if she wants to."
"I can always ask."
"Great. I just need to text you a couple photos. Hold on. Okay?"
"Got it."
A short time later, Bruce heard the telltale pinging. They were pictures of that short story, with the words, "Please tell Allison I'm listening."
As Bruce came in, he heard Connor jokingly challenging Allison to a game of one-on-one and tension-relieving laughter.
"Allison, that was your mother. She'd like to talk to you."
She shook her head, "I can't right now. Once today was enough."
"Okay, kiddo. But it might be worth your while. Here," Bruce said, showing Allison the photos of young Allie, the princess, those words -- "Please tell Allison I'm listening."
"Oh, my God. She kept those?"
"Your mother keeps a lot of things in the attic for the three of you. Allison, I don't know how much she understands about you yet and she can be terrible at saying the words, but she's been proud of you often."
"She has a funny way of showing it, but I'll call her."
"Great. You can use my phone. Connor, Gina, what do you say we go for a walk?"
With the apartment to herself, Allison hit dial. It only rang twice.
"Oh, Allie. It's you. I was awful to you today, for a long time now. You should have been able to come out to me earlier."
"Yes, I should have been. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to think that if your mom really knew who you were, she'd hate you?"
"No, I don't. And I'm sorry. So sorry. God."
Sally was hurt, but she couldn't deny it. Her own daughter thought she hated her. She had to listen and not count how many times she said "sorry." And that was just for a start as she resolved to be the mother and the wife she should be.
The conversation continued, Allison filling her on the times she wanted to tell her, how close (like the time she'd gotten buzzed at a party at Tom DeMarco's), the frustrations, how much Gina had saved her.
"You know she's-"
"I do. I owe her some apologies, too."
"Yes, you do."
"Maybe I can do it in person. If you all want to come back, that is. Look, if it's fine with you, I don't feel like cooking tonight. We could order pizza. Your choice."
"Sicilian double pepperoni, the pepp under the cheese?"
"You got it."
Allison began to realize it had been a while since she'd eaten. "I think we can do that. It's probably best you don't cook, since we have a lot to talk about."
"We absolutely do."
"Just one thing. Allison will be there, not Alex. Are you okay with that?"
"Yes.I mean, I'd be surprised if it wasn't you."
"Okay, deal. Just give me time to get changed and get ready. Then we'll head back."
Allison had too much in her head to overthink what she was wearing to see her mother as her self for the first time. Pants, boots, a purple sweater, simple makeup, nail polish to match the sweater.
Connor called ahead so they'd get there around the same time as the pizza.
There were no hugs, at first. It was still too raw for Allison. But everyone tried to keep things from being too awkward.
Sally apologized to Gina, adding that Miranda was welcome in the future.
She also took Bruce aside, vowing that she would absolutely do what it took to have things be what they should be between the two of them.
"Today's a good start," he said with a smile.
Later, Allison came into the kitchen as Sally was starting to make hot fudge sundaes.
"You're pulling out all the childhood favorites, Mom."
"It's the least I can do."
"You don't have to try this hard."
"They're just sundaes, Allie. I know I have a lot of work to do to get your full trust."
"I know, Mom. And I appreciate that," Allison said, turning to leave, before stopping to ask the question she'd held back the longest -- "Mom, can I have a hug."
It was a good thing that Sally hadn't taken the vanilla ice cream out of the freezer yet.
One year later
She tucked her hair back behind her ears, straightened her beanie, and leaned her head back. After all this time, the treehouse was still relaxing.
Dad had moved back in during the spring and fixed it up a little. He and mom weren't in a rush to move, yet. But he figured it wouldn't hurt to have it as a selling point down the road.
She put her head back against the back wall, closing her eyes.
The quiet didn't last long..
"Hey, Gina! Knew I'd find you here!"
"Allie. Look at you!"
"I know, right?
Allison sat down next to her sister, her auburn curls now past her shoulders. Even if she'd removed the makeup, down to the last trace of copper lipstick, there's no way she'd be able to pull off Alex Mode a year later. As if her eyes wouldn't give it away.
It had been a good year. Allison went full time and got her name changed. She even went on some dates, even if none had clicked.
It turned out Miranda's family, like Sally's, was English, so they bonded over Eton mess and the like. Connor had given up basketball but he'd decided to pursue psychology, with an emphasis, inspired by his sisters, on helping LGBTQ patients.
As far as Allison and Sally went, there were hiccups. But as Sally saw Allison (and Gina, for that matter) be openly out, she realized how unfounded her fears were.
Nana, who was here today, would have given her what for if she hadn't.
Gina said, "We should go back inside soon. Connor got to pick the movie, so-"
"Let me guess, some Gerard Butler action cheesefest like 'Truck' or 'Geostorm 2'?"
"Actually, no, Allie. He wants to see 'Shadowboxing For Two.' I'm telling you, the man has layers."
"And he knows stuff. But I can still beat him in HORSE."
As the two laughed, Allison remembered something. "Ooh! There's something I want to show you! she said. A few quick finger scrolls had her where she wanted. She handed her phone to Gina.
She looked the screen and saw "'Dragons Are Real' by Sarah Marie"
"Allie, you finished it! And the name is-"
"My middle name and yours. Yep. And it's something for both of us -- trans girl meets cis girl and complications ensue."
"Guess you did a lot of research back then?"
"Sort of. I wanted my first book to honor when we found out. My next one will be hopelessly hetero. Sorry."
"Ha! I'm so happy for you, though!"
"By the way, Gina. Look at the third preview page."
"Ohhh. Awwww," Gina said.
"Dedicated to my father, a stronger knight than he ever thought.
To my brother, who shows even more layers to how wonderful he is.
To my sister, who was my first friend, my first ally and remains an all-around great human.
To Mom, thanks for listening and realizing that I could also be real and slay the dragon."
They hugged again, embracing what their new normal had become.
Gina said, "Speaking of hopelessly hetero. Miranda has a class with someone and-"
"Oh, no. Am I so hopeless that the lesbian matchmakers are trying to set me up?"
"Hush, you. Miranda swears he's a great guy and she thinks you might hit it off. The way she described him, it sounds like he's worth a shot. We can double date, so you aren't alone, if you want."
"I don't know."
"Hold on, she texted me a pic. There he is."
Allison saw the mussed hair that stayed in control, tall, hazel eyes and, oh my. She said, "Alright, it's a new year coming up. I should resolve to give this guy a shot. What's his name?"
"You can ask Miranda in the house. I think it's Paul. Paul Murphy," Gina said, before adding with a wink, "Seems promising, right?"
Life and love can yield turns, some welcome, some not. Leah, her friends and family would find that out over the years
Trust Your Gut?
By Marissa Lynn
New Year's Eve 2019
"Why am I here? I wasn't in a contest. It wasn't Halloween. I didn't finish last in my fantasy football league. Nope. I did this to my own damn self."
Jake was lost in his thoughts as Jasmine and Amy had run out of the apartment for God knows what to pull the look together.
It's neither completely fair nor accurate suggest that Jake did it to himself. For one thing, Jake was not Jake at all. To the world at large, yes. But to herself and a select few, she was Leah, a reality that, contrary to what she'd felt for most of her 30 years, was something that just was. She had no part in it happening.
She also had no part in being "blessed" growing up in a family that had pockets of safety, but mostly existed between cluelessness and hostility when it came to people like her. That included being sandwiched between two brothers, both of whom were proud jocks. Not only did she know who she was, she quite literally didn't have the space to explore it.
Schoolwork took up her time. Coupled with choir and theater, she accomplished enough to keep her parents off her back.
Not that she had any desire to go back to Cleveland. Even with her friends who never left, it had become an island in a state where the hostility to anyone who wasn't cis was growing.
She was unpleasantly surprised that it was Tim, her older brother, who she had to cut off. He'd always seemed the more thoughtful of the two, but when she pointed out the real, harmful bigotry people like him were supporting, he tried gaslighting her, claiming she was being "ugly" and "negative."
She wasn't even out yet and she'd had to cut out people she couldn't trust. Hey, ho, way to go, Ohio.
But Leah wasn't completely blameless, if blame were the right word, for why she was sitting here alone and partially dressed.
Last fall, she'd already had a couple beers on a Saturday. She'd just started to get dressed when there was a buzz on her intercom. It was Jasmine, stopping by for an unannounced visit.
They'd been friends since NYU. Leah had started in Theater, then realized she didn't have drive to pursue it full-time, especially knowing that Jake giving way to her was a possibility.
She and Jasmine clicked as friends, the deeply closeted trans girl from the west side of Cleveland and the black girl from Brooklyn who turned out to be really good at makeup even though she was lucky enough to be gorgeous without it.
Jasmine had made a career of it and was always kind enough to have "Jake" on her customer list so the hairstyling was cheaper than it should have been otherwise.
Leah went into publishing. She worked for an inclusive company. She knew of a couple trans people there. She'd seen Cole, who worked in a different department, before and after he transitioned. So, why was she still stuck as "Jake," with Jasmine coming up the elevator and having to hide her true self again?
"You can take the girl away from Memphis Avenue, but you can't take Memphis Avenue away from the girl," she sighed in frustration.
They made small talk, about their jobs, about the general state of affairs, about Marcus, some guy Jasmine met leaving work.
Leah just kept adding to the empty bottle collection in the recycle box, which didn't escape Jasmine's notice.
"Jake, you okay?"
"Of course. Why woudn't I be? Everything's peachy."
Ordinarily, Jasmine would have dropped it, but her instincts told her not to. "No, it's not. It's clear something's bothering you and has been for a while. Even back to NYU, but it's been worse for a while."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yes, I do. Look, it's okay if you don't want to talk about it. I just hate seeing you like this. And you'll always be my friend, whether you're gay or-"
"Gay? Why do you think I'm gay?"
"I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry. I can't make assumptions here. Just know I'm here whenever you need me. Just do me one favor, please?"
"What's that?"
"Maybe switch away from beer. Get you a water while I'm up?"
"Probably a good idea," Leah said, but she had enough alcohol in her system to keep her from stopping what came out of her mouth next.
"I do like men, but I'm not gay. I like them, but not as Jake."
"You mean?"
"I'm not a guy. Or I wouldn't be if I had any guts."
"Oh, girl," Jasmine said as she came in for a hug. "You have a name?"
"L-L-Leah."
"Leah," Jasmine smiled. "Let me guess. I interrupted some Me Time?"
"You kinda did," Leah said with winsome embarrassment.
"Well, would you like to change?"
"No. My wig's kinda crap. And I don't know that I feel comfortable."
"Gotcha, but let me check," Jasmine said, returning a short time later. "Not today, but I can help you with that wig if you'd like."
"Maybe, but," Leah gestured at her hair.
"Is that why you haven't been to the salon lately?" Leah shyly nodded.
"Tell you what. You let it get to where you want it and the first cut for the real you is on me. And any help with the makeup-- I'm here. Now would you like to talk, Leah?"
"You know, you can keep using that name."
So, Leah told her story. By the end, she'd agreed to let Jasmine help her with a public debut.
"This isn't what I had in mind," she thought now.
Sure, she'd started seeing a therapist and diving headfirst into looks at home. She'd slowly come out. Amy, her closest co-worker at Malone Publishing, was one of the first. Amy and Jasmine eventually became co-conspirators, pushing Leah to make her debut on New Year's Eve.
"Trust me, it's not going to be huge, just friendly faces. I wouldn't throw you to the wolves, okay?" Amy had said.
"Easy for her to say. She's not one sitting here in a tank top and short shorts."
"We're back. Didn't think that we'd send you out in that, did you?" Jasmine said as she and Amy entered with bags.
They'd settled on a festive suit look, with the pop coming from a red sequined top under the blazer and bold lip to match. The only surprise came when Jasmine brought out extensions to match Leah's chestnut hair.
"Isn't that a little much?"
"Leah, your hair is almost there. I could make it look good now, but with these, I can make it look spectacular. And I can take them out later, but you might not want me to," Jasmine winked.
When Leah finally got a look at the finished product, she breathed sigh of relief. Even with her improved makeup skills, she wasn't at Jasmine's level. Amy's outfit choice hit the right balance. She could still see the dysphoria-inducing flaws, but this was as close as she could be to seeing her future looking back at her.
"Okay, let's do this," she said.
As they approached Amy's place, where they were having the party, the host put a reassuring hand on Leah's shoulder, whispering in her ear-- "Just walk in like you own the place."
After all the buildup, Leah was surprised by how utterly normal the evening was. There were well-wishes and questions, but it didn't take long until she was just another woman there.
Chatting with some tall blonde named April while nibbling on crab puffs, she saw her looking towards the door.
"Waiting for someone?"
"Yeah, my boyfriend had some family stuff to attend to, but he said he'd be able to get here around now. There he is, I should introduce you two."
As Leah turned to her right, she saw Cole, with April, coming towards her.
"Cole, this is Leah, one of Jasmine's friends."
"I've heard about you, Leah. Cool to finally meet you."
Leah tensed up, but Cole asked April what they had to drink. As she went off to grab one, he told Leah, "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."
"This is kind of my coming out party, but thanks, I will be Leah at work at some point."
"Cool. I'm happy for you. If you have any questions, let me know. Debbie at H.R. was pretty helpful, by the way."
"Great. Thanks."
As it got closer to midnight, Jasmine spotted Leah alone.
"So, Leah, you look as relaxed as I've seen you in a while. Do you think you made the right call?"
"I really do," she said with a smile that showed in her eyes.
"Looks like you have your New Year's resolution set."
Leah got a funny look on her face, confusing Jasmine momentarily.
She opened her clutch, pulling out a bottle and handing it to Jasmine so she could read the label-- progesterone.
"You bitch, when were you going to tell me?"
"Tonight, actually."
"I'm so happy for you," Jasmine said as she hugged her, adding "Welcome to the Club. Although I guess you've been here a while. It just took until you were ready to let us know you were here."
"Sounds about right. Happy New Year, Jasmine."
"Happy New Year, Leah. You do know we have toast this, right?"
"Just you, me and Amy for now, though.
"Got it, but 2020 is going to be the Year of Leah."
Leaning in conspiratorially, Leah said, "I hope so. By the way, I'm keeping the extensions."
2020
It wasn't anyone's year.
The pandemic threw everything into flux. It was fairly easy for Leah to switch to remote work, but Jasmine was screwed, only able to get by with transcription work and the like, as well as Marcus' income.
A couple of people at her Malone offices passed. So had Mr. Hernandez, who owned the nearest corner deli and always made a great BEC. Such a nice man.
Leah had been unscathed, but others hadn't been so lucky. April was lucky enough to make it, but she'd been hospitalized for over a week, agonizing Cole, who hadn't been able to see her or care for her at first when she got home.
Working at home accelerated Leah's timeline. She'd been able to get her first cut and color for her true self a few weeks before everything shut down, one that Jasmine showed her how to tweak to look like Jake at the office.
Once Leah didn't have to go to the office,she took that as her cue. If she was spending most of her days alone, there was no sense in dressing as someone else. She got the go-ahead from H.R., so there'd be no problem returning to the office and Zoom call awkwardness would be kept to minimum.
Coming out to her family mostly went as expected. Mostly.
Mom and Dad were kind of supporting, but threw a lot of concern trolling questions, fueled by dubious sources, her way. As the year rolled on, they seemed to, if not completely understand, realize that Leah was here to stay.
If her parents were getting her name and pronouns right as the year wore on, Tim was having none of it. He chose to respond to having a trans sister as well as you'd expect someone who also ranted about masks and "the plandemic" would. Which is why she'd blocked him on social media and on her phone.
The surprise was Daniel, her younger brother. He'd been a bit, how'd teachers put it on his report cards when he was young? "Easily stimulated." He loved teasing Leah when they were younger, but eased up by high school. Still, they were hardly close.
That changed when he contacted her over Zoom that summer.
"Hi, Leah."
"He's not calling me 'Jake.' This is a good sign."
"What's up, Danny?"
"Not much," he said, before they chatted for a good 15 minutes about nothing really at all before Leah took the lead.
"You didn't call me just to b.s. When's the last time we talked? You're calling me about something. What do you really want?"
Daniel looked as vulnerable as she'd ever seen him. "Maybe I should just show you," he said, reaching to his left grabbing his phone, showing her the photo. Daniel, who looked like a blonde guy version of her. A dark-haired man with a mustache and square framed glasses with his arm around him.
"You mean to tell me you're-"
"Yes. His name's Jacob, oddly enough. And I'm as surprised as you are. We met playing softball. We started hanging out and we both felt something. He said to me one night, 'I hope this isn't weird, but I feel like kissing you.' It wasn't weird at all. We've been together since January."
"Mom and Dad know?"
"I'm sure they do. Tim showed up here unannounced last week, not wearing a mask and drunk. I told him to get the hell out. Then Jacob came of the bedroom and-"
"Oh, no."
"You know how Tim always used to boast he could take me in a fight. He was wrong. Anyway, I'm sure he couldn't wait to bother Mom and Dad about it. "
"How'd they take it?"
"You know Lianne and Ron. They haven't said a thing. It'll probably be a slow roll to acceptance like it's been with you. So, how about your dating life?"
"Non-existent."
While Leah and Danny continued to bond over the rest of the year, her circumstances hadn't changed. On the list of unfortunate things caused by the pandemic, her not being able to go out on dates after coming out? Pretty low on the list.
But for the year ahead? If the outside world improves, dating as her true self is as good a resolution as any.
It was a small gathering for New Year's Eve. The only person she didn't know was Scott, a friend of Marcus -- blonde hair, green eyes and instant attraction.
"So what do you do at Malone?"
"A little of everything. I started with children's books, but I deal with more adult fiction, mysteries, that kind of thing. What about you?"
"Architectural and interior design for businesses."
"That sounds interesting."
"It can be. Would you like to go out, just the two of us sometime?"
"I would. Very much, actually. As long as you know upfront that-"
He put his hand on her arm reassuringly, "Anything you think I need to know, I'm fine with."
"Guess I got a head start on my resolution again."
2021
If Leah had denied herself for too long, she made up for lost time with Scott.
For his part, Scott felt the same. There was a reassuring quality to their time together.
Leah surprised herself by not rushing into physical intimacy. Not that she wasn't craving it, but Scott didn't push her.
She appreciated how respectful he was and, when things finally did happen, neither had any complaints.
All things considered, they both felt as at home as they ever had.
Jasmine wasn't as lucky, as she and Marcus called it quits. It was a pandemic-fueled breakup, as their increased time together led them to realize they didn't have as much in common as they'd thought.
At least it wasn't as painful as it could have been, nor as awkward for their friends. "No bad guys here, you don't have to choose between us," as she put it.
On the other hand, Cole and April had progressed further. She'd accepted when he proposed after a candlelit dinner at home, but they were willing to wait until conditions improved so that they could have a wedding friends and family could attend.
The April ceremony left Leah a little concerned, not over anything major, but that she didn't get stuck in a hideous bridesmaid's dress.
She needn't have worried. With the only requirement to go with something in a lighter shade, Amy and Jasmine helped her find a strapless number in light pink that didn't make her look like Princess Bubble Yum.
It was a lovely wedding. Cole beamed the whole time. The more Leah got to know him, he'd turned out to be more like one of the cool, smart guys she looked up to in high school, every bit the offspring of two teachers from Westchester County.
And April was outgoing enough to make Jasmine and Amy seem as retiring as silent monks, but never came off as annoyingly perky, quite the highwire feat.
The reception went swimmingly. Leah danced with Cole, Marcus, Cole's dad (who turned out to have the best moves of any of them) and, of course, Scott.
The slow dances, her head on his shoulder, she felt as safe as she'd felt in her life. She glanced at April at one point, thinking "That could be me."
Leah was returning with a refilled drink when she saw Scott, with furrowed brows, looking at his phone.
"Honey, what's wrong?"
"I'm getting transferred. Seattle."
"Across the country? Can't you turn it down?"
"I wish I could, but they're not giving me a choice."
"But I can't leave here."
"I know. Dammit. I can't believe this."
"Did you know?"
"No. I mean, I knew there was some restructuring, but the word was it was going to be someone from Chicago."
"But things have been going so well."
"I know, I know. If there was something I could do, but there isn't. I can't just quit without another job to go to."
"Okay. We'll just have to make it work somehow. I mean, this doesn't have to be permanent."
"No, we can make it work."
"Yes, we can," Leah said as they embraced.
If only that had been the case. They'd talked all the time at first, but then one or both had work things. With no sign of anything happening to change the situation, they began to drift apart.
Scott felt especially helpless. He'd tried to find ways out of it. No luck. And he had more on his mind than his job and Leah. The longer they were apart, the more everything else weighed on him.
Adrift, Leah could do nothing. Even though her job was still mostly remote, she still had to be available for the office, something she couldn't do from the Pacific Northwest.
In the end, it was Scott who jumped first, the words "Leah, we need to talk" giving her a sinking feeling.
Leah begged off on New Year's Eve, despite her friends protests. Amy especially tried her to join them, but realized she needed to be alone.
There was nothing to celebrate. Nothing to resolve.
As she watched the countdown on CNN, she couldn't help but think so much of the last two years had been wasted. "At least I wasn't ridiculous enough to start sourdough baking," she joked bitterly as the ball dropped.
2022
Leah should have resolved to swear off dating, as Amy seemingly had.
"Maybe the right someone's out there, but I have enough going on." she told Leah.
"Same here."
"How's your family?"
"Danny's great. He and Jacob adopted a couple of rescue dogs. Mom and Dad have been really nice. They've been after me to visit, but, you know."
"My family's in Florida. I do."
"At least they cut off Tim, too. Turns out they don't much like having their daughter and youngest son being called 'pedophile groomers' very much."
"Ouch. Wanna get a bite after work?"
"Sure. The Mexican seafood place?"
"Deal."
It seemed Scott had ghosted everyone, not just Leah. He deactivated his social media accounts. It was if he'd ceased to exist. The surgical precision with which he'd done it had Leah open to dating by year's end.
She arrived at Jasmine's, seeing Amy was already there.
"Hey, gorgeous," Jasmine said.
"Hey, yourself. You two look like you have things in hand."
"We make a pretty good team, right?"
"Um, we do at that," Amy said, her expression changing. Jasmine didn't see it, but Leah certainly did.
The usual assortment filtered in, along with some new faces, including some guy who looked, dare Leah say it, cute.
"Why not? It's been long enough."
"So, how'd you wind up here..."
"Lance. Jasmine helped hook me up with an apartment here. I started work at the salon last month."
"That explains it. I'm not due to come in for a few weeks. I'm Leah, by the way."
"I guessed. Jasmine and Amy told me you'd be here."
"They did, eh?" ("I've been set up.")
It was indeed a set-up and it worked. Leah and Lance talked throughout the night, agreeing to go on a date some time in January.
Leah got a chance to corner Jasmine and Amy.
"So, Lance, a guy who looks like a younger version of Christopher Meloni, just happened to be here?"
"I'd say 'guilty,' but it looks like you two are hitting it off," Jasmine said.
"So far so good. You know, you two make a pretty good pair."
Amy and Jasmine said nothing, so Leah quickly kept the silence from being awkward.
"I'd say you two get along like an old married couple, but you haven't even dated yet"
Amy and Jasmine's eyes grew bigger as they looked away from each other as quickly as they'd glanced in their direction.
"Or have you?"
"No, um, why would we? I mean, um," Amy said.
Leah looked at her sympathetically. "But you've thought about it."
Amy sighed. "Yes, I have. I dated a couple of women in college, but I thought it was a phase. But, Jasmine, the more we've hung out together, the more I've wondered."
Jasmine said, "I had no idea." Glancing at Leah, she said, "I never told you, but even when we knew each other at NYU, I always felt queer, but I was always afraid to act on it. Expectations are a pain."
"I know. So all those years we knew each other, we were in our own closets. But maybe you don't have to be?" Leah asked.
"Maybe not. I think I'd be up for trying it and seeing how it goes, Amy, if you are."
"I am," Amy replied, taking Jasmine's hands in hers, before she looked up at Leah, "But what about you, Little Miss Single?"
"I don't know. I know most first relationships don't work out, but my gut told me it would with Scott. Maybe I need to resolve to accept that my gut's an idiot."
"That's possible, but in the meantime, Lance seems to like you."
"He does at that," Leah smiled as she looked in his direction. "I should let you two talk anyway. Here's to successfully resolving to enjoy new experiences."
2023
Leah's family came to her, starting with Danny and Jacob moving to the city, only a couple of subway stops away from her, the rescue dogs living with friends, replaced by a couple of cats.
Her parents finally came to New York, which reminded her how much she missed them.
"I can't get over how beautiful you are. Pictures are one thing, but you look so much like your Aunt Monica," Lianne said.
"She's right. She'd have been proud of you, too. You and Daniel both have her kindness," Ron added, getting emotional thinking of his sister, who'd died of leukemia before Leah was born.
Leah agreed to a return visit. It might never be safe to move back to Ohio, the way things were going, but there wasn't a place to get a Polish Boy in New York.
Lance was out of the picture at that point. They went on a few dates, but it became apparent that they were going to want to completely different things from a relationship, that he came off a little controlling.
But still, it was worth the shot and she didn't give Jasmine and Amy too much grief for it. She was too happy seeing their relationship blossom.
At the start of December, Leah realized Scott had reactivated his accounts, even though he hadn't done much besides make an Under Construction sign his cover photo.
The morning, she found a message in her inbox -- "Are you going to be at Jasmine and Amy's tonight? I'm in town and need to talk to you about something."
Leah, who'd taken Scott of her friends list when he went missing, took a deep breath and replied, "I will be. See you then."
"Great. Looking forward to it."
The mood was joyous that night. Danny and Jacob (a better holder of her old name, Leah thought) were there. Cole and April announced they were approved for adoption, so they'd be starting a family in the year ahead.
Leah also got a sneak preview when Jasmine took her aside into the bedroom to show her the ring.
"Oh my God! Yay!"
"Sssh. Sssh. Don't spoil it."
"Sorry," Leah whispered, miming zipping her lips shut as she gave Jasmine a massive hug.
When Leah returned to the party, she still didn't see Scott anywhere.
She shook her head when Amy asked her if she'd had any luck.
"I know you never got over him. Maybe he never got over you."
"But he's the one-"
"Look, all I'm saying is maybe your gut's more trustworthy than you thought," Amy said, glancing over towards the bedroom
Leah looked over, still not seeing Scott. She went back. Jasmine was gone, but there's a sandy blonde in a green dress.
"Scott?"
"It's Shannon now."
"How? Why?"
"Sorry for the surprise, for a lot of things, but the same as you. Dysphoria. Hormones."
"But you never told me."
"I know, but when we were together, I had it buried. But when I got transferred, it all came flooding back. That's why I pulled away. I knew I couldn't put the genie back in the bottle and it wasn't fair to you."
"Wasn't fair? You couldn't even bother to tell me! That's not fair!"
Shannon hung her head. "I know. I know. It's just you fell in love with a man. I couldn't be that man anymore. We were thousands of miles apart-"
"So you didn't give me a chance."
"I should have. I've regretted it every single day since. You, of all people, can understand, being like this, the dating in denial."
Leah's surprise and anger were joined by recognition. There but for the grace of God, this could have been her in her 20s.
"But Sc-Shannon, you flew all the way from Seattle to come out?"
"Not exactly. I'm moving back. I took a job here, smaller company, but higher position and better pay. Can't get reassigned. This city's where I always felt at home."
"That's great. I'm happy for you. I wish it had happened a couple years ago."
"Me, too. I just, I thought you should know and-"
"And what?"
"To let you know I'm so sorry."
"I know. Look, it hurt when you called it off and it hurts that you kept this a secret from me. But at the same time, you're right. I didn't tell anyone I dated before. And even without your coming to terms with being Shannon, being 3,000 miles apart was too much for both of us."
"Well, I'm clearly not going to be 3,000 miles away, regardless of the place I find. And I'm clearly not burying who I am anymore."
"No, you certainly are not," Leah said. Now that the surprise was wearing off, she could see just how much Shannon had changed. She didn't see it coming, but the total picture made perfect sense.
"I don't expect us to pick up our relationship, Leah. For one thing, you're straight and I'm not going back to being a man."
"I should hope Scott doesn't return. That would be a waste. Being your true self is attractive enough, but you're making the most of it."
"Thanks. I didn't know what to expect, sharp learning curve and all that, but it's like I'm not carrying that two-ton boulder anymore."
"I know exactly what you mean. And for the record, I love men, but speaking hypothetically, if the man I loved told me they couldn't live as a man anymore, I'd love them regardless."
"An exception to the rule."
"Hypothetically."
"Yes, hypothetically."
At that moment, they heard cheers from the living room.
"Oh, no! I missed Jasmine's proposal. Of course, Amy said yes!"
Shannon grinned, "Yes, she did. When Jasmine proposed to her this morning."
"What?"
"Well, they knew I was coming as Shannon and they thought we could use some privacy to talk."
"You all planned this?"
"Sort of. I resolved to be honest with you and I knew they'd make sure I stuck to it. Not that I needed much push. I was just scared you wouldn't show up."
Leah flashed back to Amy's words four years ago -- "I wouldn't throw you to the wolves, okay?"
"They make a great couple don't they? Jasmine told me you almost saw it before they did," Shannon said.
"Every once in a while, I get one right. You said 'find a place' earlier. If you need to, you can stay at my apartment to start, until you find one. We can catch up more and you know the couch is comfortable."
"Couch?"
"Don't push it, Shannon. If you want to rebuild our relationship, you're going to have to earn it."
"Fair enough," Shannon said, a hint of a smile forming at the ends of her lips.
"Should we go congratulate them?" Leah asked.
As Shannon rose to join her, Leah allowed herself a smile of her own, resolving that maybe, just maybe, her gut was worth trusting after all.