December 24, 2023: 

 

The sound of children breathing was fascinatingly different from the sound of an adult breathing, and it became much more apparent in moments when every adult in the room was either shocked into silence or remained silent as a courtesy to those who were shocked.

Perhaps unwisely, I was shocked. 

“I-I'm sorry?” Annabeth asked her ten year old. Hinata was slowly shrinking inward, like a little black hole existed within and was pulling the frightened thing into it.

“I-I wanna—” Hinata looked around the spinning room for an anchor, but even Megumi looked taken for surprise “—I wanna be a girl, like Mama.”

The first one to break the silence was from outside the family: “Oh, shit!” Rose Johnson gasped, in something of a half-whisper.

It was a fitting choice of words.

Michael squeezed my hand even harder as my body tensed up. Hinata was trans? And knew it? At such a young age? Well, no, yes, of course—Megumi knew she was trans at Hinata's age, too. Hell, she had socially transitioned at twelve! The figurative weight of the threads unraveling before me had my knees literally buckling. I couldn’t help myself from whispering, “Oh, God.”

Megumi turned to me, eyes-wide and full of fear and confusion. I would have been at a loss for what to say in her shoes, as well.

Annabeth eventually stood up and made a mad dash for the lavatory.

“Oh, fuck!” I gasped as flatly as I could muster in the moment, immediately giving chase through the ivory halls of Megumi's house. The hostess herself stayed with the kid and Michael’s thumb gently brushed against my hand as I pulled away from his, like he was telling me that everything was going to be all right.

By the time I caught up with my haggard elder sister, she was vomiting into the toilet, the door not even closed. For her dignity, I closed and locked the door behind me and then crouched by her side, “Beth, are you—?”

Another torrent of vomit escaped my sister, answering my question.

It was surreal being on the other side of the toilet bowl this time.

Settling on her behind, the gasping lawyer tried to catch her breath as the panic was setting in, “F-fuck, oh god, what have I—”

I immediately leaned in to nip this in the bud: “You didn’t do anything, Beth—Hinata is just born this—”

“—I-I shouldn’t have ran, I mean!” Beth cut me off, voice shredded by it all, “God, Hinata’s going to think that I—”

Beth’s eyes took on the familiar strained, reddening look I had seen her have each time we had seen one another since our recent reunion, “What do you mean?”

The lawyer began to bawl into her hands, no doubt smearing her mascara over her cheeks. Given the angle we were at, I could do little more than grab her by the arm, “Beth, please don’t—”

“—mrate!”

“Huh?”

“I’m late!” Beth fired back, unveiling a fierce look from behind her hands, “I’m—oh, God, I’m pregnant again!”

“Oh, fuck!”

She was going to have some guy’s kid—Trevor WhatsHisName—just as her daughter was coming out as trans? What kind of sitcom was this?

“God, I’m so, so fucked!!”

“I mean, you could always get a—”

Beth’s glare could have killed, “No. I-I want this, but—fucking fuck!”

“What, Beth? What?!”

My sister melted into the human equivalent of a puddle as she sobbed, words barely intelligible. I had to hold her hands back from hitting her head. Finally, she lifted her head up and said: “I’ve been cheating on Trevor.”

I blinked, “Wait, what?” Oh God, oh FUCK—

“—I’ve been sleeping with Megumi again.”

Somehow, my gut found a way to make this about me, churning like rusted gears as I put all the pieces together, “Oh. Wow.”

Beth looked at me like she wasn’t able to tell if I was being judgemental or not—it was an awful look.

“N-no, I mean—Hinata’s going to have another sibling from the same parents. I’m just a little—it’s just kind of funny, I mean.”

Beth’s facial expression did not change.

“I-I don’t—you know? I mean, I don’t mean it in a bad way—Jesus, Beth, you know that I don’t have a problem with this!” I sent the part of my brain that couldn't believe that Megumi had just cucked a second cis man to the principal's office.

Beth quivered, accepting my explanation, and then rested her eyes in her palms yet again.

“I…guess you’re going to have to have some really awkward conversations, then?”

Nada.

“I mean, I’m—I’ll be there. For you. With you. Whatever, you know?”

Beth picked her head up to give me a look I couldn’t quite read.

“I—I kinda got a lot of time to make up, I mean? Like, for the five years I ghosted everyone?”

A faint smile, like a gift of reprieve from the anxiety gods.

Grabbing a piece of the toilet paper hanging to the left of her head, “I guess you’re going to get what you want, then, Candace.” Annabeth blew into the paper, loudly.

“Huh?”

Tossing the paper into the toilet and then holding out her hands so that I could help lift her back to her feet, Beth wobbled over a foot or so to take a look in the mirror, “Oh, God,” her voice warbled, “Be a good little sister and fetch me my purse. I gotta redo my makeup.”

Somehow, as I shook my head side-to-side and rolled my eyes while I left the bathroom, I felt a little better about everything.

 

***

 

December 24, 2023: 

 

“Hi, yes, hello! Sorry about that everyone, I’m doing much better,” Beth took the tone that I imagined she might take if she were addressing an entire room of her colleagues. 

The children had all elected to go off to Hinata’s room to play, or whatever a bunch of ten year olds did these days.

Power walking over to Megumi, Beth never took the bewildered woman by the hand and led her to the master bedroom for—presumably—a talk.

I elected to be a nosy bitch and followed the girls. Michael—ever the gentleman—did not even need to take my signal. Smoothly moving into action, the poor man turned on the teacher's charm and distracted the other adults.

Walking as quietly as possible through the hallways of the large house, I eventually caught the sound of two women speaking and approached the bedroom, pressing my ear against the door, like a child trying to determine what her parents were wrapping for her Christmas presents.

“I’m sorry that I ran away like that. Did you have any idea that—?”

“No! I mean, I don’t know? Hinata’s always been so—like, I figured it wouldn’t be surprising if he was, but—”

“—it’s still surprising the first time you hear it?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess it shouldn’t be a surprise to me, either. I’ve got a way of attracting people like you three.”

Megumi paused, probably to roll her eyes, “Yeah, that’s one word for it. Oh god, like—obviously this is okay with me, but how are you—I mean, if this is really happening, I think that we should have a doctor—”

“—yeah, no, of course, Megu. I’d never—Jesus, I’m crying again—I’d never keep her from—fuck, why am I—”

“O-okay, that’s good, then! I think the specialist that my parents took me to is retired, but I can look up—oh, wow, me, too now—I think we can get Hinata seen and—what is it?”

“I’m pregnant.”

A pause.

“No, no, it’s not—oh gawd, Megumi, it’s not his—I mean, I haven’t been with anyone lately except—”

“—what the fuck? Are you saying that we did this again?”

“I mean, yeah. Basically.”

“Jesus Christ, Bethy!”

“Appropriate, given the time of year.”

“I—I just, well, I mean—I’m happy? I think?”

“It’s a lot to take in, I know. I still—I mean, I was ignoring it the last couple of days, but—”

“—you’re far along enough to be vomiting, apparently.”

“Yeah.”

“I—will Trevor be—?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Why not?”

“I’m leaving him.”

“Oh. I mean, I guess—”

“Megumi?”

“What’s with that look?”

“Will you marry me?”

“Oh, FUCK!” I gasped, a little less gaspy and a little more outright just yelping.

A pair of steps approached the door from within the room and I knew even before it opened how well and truly fucked I was, “Well, what do we have here?”

“Uh…hi, girls.”

“Old habits die hard, I see,” Megumi scorned, “Just get into here.”

An arm tug and an “Ack” later, I was inside of the bedroom, stumbling over to the bed to sit. I felt like a voyeur, intruding on a yuri scene unfolding before me. 

Megumi turned back to Beth, “Are you—?”

“—yes, I am. There’s just—I know that I’ve been stupid—I know that everything I’ve been doing for all these years has been—” Beth paced around in what seemed like circles—or at least as much as she could in a bedroom, “—Megumi, I just can’t anymore. I’ve been acting so fucking stupid all this time and today has just been too stupid to not realize how stupid I’ve been acting, you know?”

“‘Stupid’?” Megumi replied, not so much asking a question as pointing out a fact.

“Yeah, exactly.”

Megumi took a moment, shot a look back to me on the bed, and then sighed, “Are you really sure this is what you want?”

“I’ve known for sure for twenty years, Megu. I just—if she can turn her life around, why can’t I? Why do I need to keep torturing myself?”

I had not expected to literally be pointed at, but it was perhaps the first time in my life that it had ever been flattering to be pointed at, nonetheless. 

Megumi looked defeated, “Hinata will love this.”

“I’m not sure if she’ll like having to be a big sister,” Beth mused, turning to me with a devilish grin, “It can be a bit annoying having a little sibling following you around all the time.”

The surrealness of what was unfolding before me wasn’t left on me, but I couldn’t help but flip Beth off, “Listen, I really shouldn’t be here, so I’ll leave you two to it.”

“What, don’t want to watch me make out with your sister for old time’s sake?”

Covering my ears, I began humming Christmas songs as loudly as I could while making my much needed escape from the room and nearly slammed the door behind me with a backwards kick.

Once back in the kitchen, I found Michael playing Houdini with a cupcake that was soon followed by a swig of punch while the other adults mingled in the living and dining rooms. Tapping Michael on his right shoulder, I ducked around to his left as he turned to his right, and wrapped my arms around him.

“Is everything okay?” The amusement in his voice was like a warm blanket in the middle of the night.

“Everything’s perfect, Mikey,” and by the time I had laid my head on his back, everything truly was.

 

***

 

December 24, 2023: 

 

Hours passed and as darkness fell on the perpetually dark Washington State, only myself, Michael, Beth, Megumi and Hinata remained. The living room was a warzone of wrapping paper and plates of half-eaten food and half-consumed red plastic cups. Megumi and Beth seemed almost to hurry the guests out before they could even lend a hand with cleaning the place up. Now, the five of us remained on couches and arm chairs, awkwardly staring at one another.

“Am I in trouble?” Little Hinata asked, breaking the armistice. 

“What? No, why would you think that?” Megumi asked, perhaps already knowing the answer. She looked like she was itching to get out of her formal wear.

“Because Mom ran when I…you know? Said…I wanted to be a girl.” She looked so tiny on the couch

Annabeth gave Megumi a quick look, “That wasn’t your fault, honey. Mommy’s just a little sick, is all.”

Hinata had the face of a professional poker player.

“What Mommy means is—” Megumi nudged Beth along with a look of her own.

“—I’m going to—I mean, you’re going to be a big sister, Hinata.”

Hinata blinked, stunned into silence.

Michael—hearing the news for the first time, too—shifted next to me on the couch, and turned back to me for my reaction.

It was refreshing to be able to wear a smug little smile in a moment like this.

“Oh,” Hinata finally replied, “Umm…what’s—wait, do I get to be a—?”

“—If you want to, yes,” Beth nodded with as enthusiastic a cadence as she could, perhaps a little desperate to make sure that Hinata didn’t hate herself.  

“B-but, I mean—it’s okay, right? To be like Mama?”

“I mean, are you sure?” Megumi asked, her eyes strained and her face tight. I couldn’t detect her breathing at all.

Hinata glanced at Michael, who looked a little taken aback, “No offense, but I’d rather look like Mama when I grow up.”

“None take, kiddo,” Michael replied, holding up his hands with palms out and a funny little facial expression of concession.

“How long have you known that you wanted to be a girl?” Beth asked, trying to figure out what a comfortable position in her arm chair was.

Hinata shrugged, “I dunno. A long time?”

The poor kid spent all her time with Alyssa and her other friends, of course she probably felt like she already was just one of the girls. 

“Well Hinata, Mama and I were talking and—well, we’d like to take you to what’s called a gender specialist. They can help you with, you know—” Beth waved an arm up and down in her daughter’s general direction, “—and get the ball rolling on things.” Beth and Megumi traded a thousand little looks between them that reminded me much of the days when I was Hinata’s age and they were looking after me. Even two decades later, I still couldn’t understand those little secrets locked away behind their own—literal—love language. 

Hinata’s nod came cautious, but elated, “So I don’t have to—” Another look at Michael, who very much held his palms up and out again “—uh…look like a boy when I grow up?”

The kid was kind of smart for a ten year old.

“Exactly, honey. When I was your age, my parents were doing the same thing for me, too.”

“Grandma and Grandpa aren’t going to be weird about it?”

“Oh, definitely not, Hinata.”

That seemed to give the poor kid some relief.

Now that I thought about it, had she ever even met her other grandparents? With the recent…death in the family…I wondered if Hinata even ever knew her grandmother, even if just a bit?

God, I hope Mom hadn’t said something awful and racist to her, if she had. God knows the old man would have.

As the air settled, Hinata curiously developed a facial expression I had yet to see her with: a smile, “It’s okay, right?”

“Very!” 

“Oh, for sure!”

“One hundred percent!”

“Of course, sweetie!”

Hinata marinated in the affirmation, hands gripping her knees through her fading jeans. 

I wasn’t sure if I should do it, but part of me felt like it might be helpful if Hinata knew: “You know, Hinata, I’m like your Mama, too!” I could immediately feel all the eyes in the room turn to me, peering into my very soul.

“You are?”

“Oh, um, yes, I am. I used to be a—I mean, I became a girl when I was nineteen—just before you were born, I mean.” The admission felt odd and strange, but I wasn’t sure how else to frame it, like, at all. It felt almost like a lifetime ago, and yet it had only been ten years for me. Megumi had over twice as much time under her belt—to say nothing of knowing that she was trans since she was a kid. I could only wonder what the hell her perspective on the matter was.

“Wow, umm…that’s so cool…Aunt Candace,” the poor girl still seemed scared out of her wits just at the prospect of talking to me. It was an ache in my heart, but I couldn’t blame her—she barely even knew me. “You didn’t know when you were my age?”

Annabeth shifted in her seat, momentarily distracting me from my reply, “I mean, no, not really—I mean, I knew that I wanted to be a girl, but I didn’t know that it was actually possible until I met a—until I met a friend in college. She helped me get on hormones—which I guess you need not worry about for another half dozen years, anyway—but it was nice, you know? Finally knowing what I could do and—you know, getting some idea of who I could be.”

Hinata’s slow nod as she took in my story was mesmerizing to watch. As an adult, it was easy to get into the habit of thinking of kids Hinata’s age as not being all too developed and able to understand the world, but here before me—as she began opening up more—was a girl with thoughts and feelings that—while not as developed as those of an adult—were still an amazingly beautiful thing to watch. Did Beth and Megumi ever just watch Hinata and take in how lucky they were to just have a child that they could watch grow up and become their own person? Was that something that mothers were as aware of? More than those who were denied the title by their own bodies?

Tears began welling up in my eyes, so I dabbed them away as quickly as I could with tissue from my purse. The touch of Michael’s hand on my knee tugged me away from withdrawing within myself. As much as I wanted to bathe in the fires of Hell for the sin of my existence, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to. The world around me wasn’t going to just stop, just so that I could get lost in my own feelings, after all.

Hinata sat, surrounded by four adults, and seemed to be quietly processing what was happening. Finally, he turned back to me and said, “I’m glad that you and Mama told me, Aunt Candace. I’m not so scared now, I think.”

Sometimes, the straightforwardness of children was such a blessing.

Getting up from my seat next to Michael, I indulged in some selfishness and played the role of the aunt who hugs her niece.

 

***

 

December 25, 2023: 

 

“You don’t look very out-of-place for a woman suffering from amnesia, Candi.”

“I mean, it’s mostly just the latter half of the year that I don’t remember now, actually.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, it’s like, you know, been slowly coming back to me over the past, I don’t know, month?”

“Aah, well, damn, I kind of wish I had come down to bother you when you were still amnesic, then.”

“Sarah, you would do something that irritating.”

“Ain’t I a stinker?”

“I think only trans women are allowed to make Bugs Bunny references now, actually.”

“O’ cruel Queen of mine!”

It was hard not to roll my eyes at the theatrical woman as she tossed herself sideways onto her girlfriend, Ruby’s, lap, “Ruuuuuuuubyyyyyyy, Candi’s being mean to me again!!”

“Omigawd, Candi's, like, such a meanie,” Ruby replied, the tone of her voice and the look on her face betraying her amusement at the routine her girlfriend was putting on.

Ruby had really taken off in her transition since the last time I had snuck in a visit, back in the middle of February. After getting a little—well, whole fuckin’ lot—of work done, the newly minted premium doll wore her hair now long and platinum blonde. For a woman who stayed inside all day working a tech job, she’d become accustomed to putting all other souls in her field to shame by dressing to the nines in some Armani, Chanel, and so many other brands that had long since left my stratosphere of affordability. 

What with the recent lip fillers and boob job—to say nothing of a hell of a round of facial feminization surgery—the once audition failure of a woman had basically become me if I could afford nicer clothes, and I was already hot enough to be some kind of Hollywood-type, if I so had the inclination. Well okay, more like porno actress, but whatever. The young woman's complete transformation into a walking teenage wet-dream certainly explained the strained looks she gave me when we first met, two Christmas’ ago. 

Christ, even when she was checking her phone she looked like a completely different person. Was she running a side gig as an influencer? She certainly looked like some model you would see on Instagram all day. It was hard to not stare like a deranged Sapphic, sometimes. 

“Weeeeeeeeh,” Sarah moaned, keeping up her act.

“What is this really about?” I asked, idly rubbing Michael’s arm up-and-down as he sat next to me on the couch opposite his sister and dear Miss Ruby, “You’re usually not this whiny.”

“It’s a secret!”

“Don’t be petulant, Sarah, it’s unbecoming of a young lady.”

“You and your big, fancy, five dollar college words!”

“Sarah, you graduated from college, too! You are literally a psychiatrist—god help your patients!!”

“Ugh, I know, I’m just—sorry, sorry, I’m acting like a child. Ugh, can’t do that anymore.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Sarah looked up into Ruby’s eyes from her position laying on her lap. Ruby had but a smile to offer back. 

“Hey, Mom? Dad?” Sarah called out, only for both flour-covered parents to shuffle out of the kitchen.

“Yes, your majesty?” Desiree answered back calmly, “I appreciate the alone time with my husband, but how about you get your butt in here and help out a little?”

“I’m pregnant.”

The room grew silent, as if a vortex had opened up and swallowed all the sounds and air at the drop of a dime. Perhaps the concept of ‘sound’ had even been swallowed up, it was hard to process what I had just heard.

First Beth, now Sarah.

Finally, I heard a sigh—from Desiree—and turned to find the woman crossing her arms in that killer frilled pirate shirt she liked to wear, “Fine, stay on the couch. Make me a grandmother when I’m barely fifty, why don’t you.”

Scott’s reaction was decidedly less comedically stand-off-ish, “Aaaaay, my baby girl’s gonna be a momma!” It didn’t take long for him to go in for the hug, which Sarah sat up and got off the couch to meet halfway. 

As Desiree went in for her own hug, I finally noticed that Michael had been squeezing my hand since the news broke. I had been so lost in the clarity of the sounds now filling the room—voices, steps, clothes ruffling—that I hadn’t even noticed the warmth and the strength of Michael’s grip on my left hand, or the looseness of Sarah’s loose linen mini dress. Green was a good color on her, as always.

While the others exchanged hugs, Michael took my chin in his other hand and redirected my vacant gaze into his eyes, soft and compassionate as they always were. Michael was going to be an uncle, he should be celebrating and congratulating his sister right now.

With a blink, I cleared my throat, forced a smile for the occasion, and stood to beat Michael to the punch by giving Sarah the biggest, galaxy-destroying, hug that I could, “Congratulations, girly,” I whispered into her ear as I felt her rapidly beating heart through our chests. 

“Thank you so much, Candi,” Sarah whispered back with uncharacteristic softness, “I’m sorry that—”

“—think nothing of it, Sarah,” I shot back as quickly as I could, just to not hear the most painful words put out into the open air again, “This is your time. Well, you and Ruby’s.”

When Sarah pulled back from our hug, her eyes still spoke to me with the same softness and concern as her voice. 

I only hoped that she would focus on the width of my smile, rather than the sadness in my eyes.

 

***

 

December 25, 2023: 

 

“So, ladies,” with great effort, I steeled my nerves as I tactfully avoided eating what was on the plate before me, “Are you two…?”

“Getting married?” Ruby replied, lips a soft, but lustful smile, “I, like, popped the question on the spot when Sarah told me.”

“Sounds romantic.”

“I mean, like, we were in the middle of the grocery store. It was, like, totes kind of super duper embarrassin’, y'know?” Ruby's giggle of embarrassment was so damned confident, it was a bit annoying. 

“I couldn’t hold it in anymore, if you catch my drift?”

“The big news?”

“My morning sickness, actually.”

“Yikes,” I grimaced as I turned to Michael, who had the look of a man who just did not seem phased by the plot twists in his sister's stories anymore, “So, like, when shall I need to be buying a Bride’s Maid gown or whatever?”

“May, maybe? I'm busy with clients and the baby won't be due until August, anyway, so we have plenty of time to hammer out the deets, y’know?”

“Born in the same month as you and Mikey, eh?”

“And you too, Candi!” Sarah's laugh felt devoid of care, and I envied her for it. 

A horrible part of me was not looking forward to seeing her with a big baby bump in all of her wedding photos for the rest of time. An errant hand slid quietly to my belly, only to have nothing to cradle. There was an odd disconnect there. I had lived through those dreams so many times, and yet—

—Pulling my gaze up, I found nine year old twin girls with long, dark hair sitting opposite one another at the dinner table before me, one next to their daddy and another next to their Aunt Ruby. They conversed and laughed and smiled like they had not a care in this cursed world. I could almost reach out and touch—

—Desiree's standing up from the table snapped me back to reality, “All this baby talk has me needing a smoke, so if you kids don't mind, I'm going to be on the back porch for a bit.”

Scott stood from his seat at the table’s head, took his wine glass, and joined his wife out back with naught more than a gesture towards her and a wink at the rest of us. It was so strange seeing a man be so clearly in love with his wife that even just stealing a few moments alone with her on her smoke break was something he cherished. 

I could see where Michael got all that charming masculinity from: growing up watching a man practically worship his wife must have been a hell of a way to stave off the call of the patriarchy.

It finally dawned on me that I had been spacing out for at least three minutes. The dining table was alive with discussion between the others, while one hand pushed food around my plate and the other searched for the son who was not where I expected him to be. I looked back at Michael and Ruby: the girls—my girls—were gone.

“So, Candi?”

“Uh, yeah, Ruby?”

“I LOVE what you have had done.”

“I can see,” I replied without thinking, “Oh, I mean—sorry, I'm not say anything bad about your—”

“—No, no, sweetie, you're, like, totes good!” Ruby’s appearance wasn't the only thing that had transformed so dramatically. Something about the woman's entire demeanor seemed transformed. It was like she was in bimbo mode all the time.

It was as if the past two years had turned Ruby into some sort of clone of me, especially when I was playing up the sacrosine role of ditzy blonde with big tits. Had this been Sarah’s idea? Surely she was over that flirtatious crush she had on me ten years ago?

“I've been, like, thinkin’ of goin’ in for another round of lip filler, you know?”

“Same, actually. There's just something about—”

Ruby’s already plumpened, ruby red painted lips spread across her face with the most devious of smiles. Was she getting turned on by this conversation?

“—Just something about how it looks, I mean.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Ruby agreed, in that way that implied more than what was on the surface layer of the conversation.

“How’s work going?” I pivoted, praying for a less sensual conversation.

“Oh, work’s just dandy. Well, except for all the boys asking me for my Snap now, I mean,” another giggle of supreme confidence and self-importance. 

I hated how the sound of her giggled drew from me a smile surpassed only by what Michael could, “Aah, yeah, that happens to me a lot, too,” I laughed, doing my best to not be weird about it all, “Don’t be afraid of telling HR about any trouble, you hear?”

“Pfft, they’re only there for, like, the company, not protecting you.”

“Touché.”

“How’s work? Teaching anything…exciting?”

“Same old, same old. I'm just glad that I’m getting used to it again.”

“Yeah, I bet, especially with memory issues.”

“You got that right. I had to get Mikey to run me through everything again the weekend before I returned to work, then winged it as much as I could once I got to class on Monday, y'know?”

“Ugh, this is boring,” Sarah pouted, sitting up on the couch, “We girls should go shopping sometime soon.”

“Oh, for sure. I'm sure I can squeeze it in before winter break is up?”

“We have to get back to work Tuesday, so are you free Monday?”

A piranha ate away at my intestinal track, “Aah, no, sorry. It's my mom's funeral.”

“Oh gosh, I forgot. How’s that going for you, Candi?”

“I don't know, actually. I feel like I'm still in shock?”

“Yeah, that’s common, especially given how distant you two were.”

“See, you are a professional woman, Sarah!”

She just rolled her eyes, the bitch.

“Don’t be afraid to, like, let it all out, though, y'know? Girlies gotta cry, even if it's seen as a stereotype!”

My immediate response sounded too sarcastic in my head, so I merely smiled back at Ruby.

“And you, mister!” Sarah called out, pointing an accusing finger at her older brother, “Don’t forget to take care of Candi, she's too good for you!”

“How about you mind your own business, dork,” Michael shot back, wrapping his arm around me.

For that, I decided to forgive Sarah for how she was speaking to my man. “Mikey's a saint. I don't deserve him.”

“That’s not very feminist of you, Candace!”

“Sarah, I promise, Michael's amazing. I wouldn’t be alive without him!”

The thought of where my life would be had I never met Michael terrified me. I'd be in a loveless marriage with a wife I hated fucking and feeding children I resented with a job at one of my family's companies that made me want to kill myself.

I clenched Michael’s arm a little tighter, selfish as it may be.

“I'm watching you, Summers,” the silly thing even did the little thing where one pointed at their eyes with their index and middle fingers and then pointed with them at their target.

Ruby, brushing her beloved's hair while she rested her head on her lap, merely smiled like she was witness to the funniest thing in the world.

There was joy all throughout this world, but few blessings for Candace.

 

***

 

December 25, 2023:

 

The backyard of the Summers house looked a lot better this year. In years passed, it was barely maintained—just a basic mow job. This year, it looked like somebody with a lot of free time on his hands had gotten said hands on a plow or two.

Leaning against the deck's railing, Desiree put her cigarette out in an ashtray situated on the mint-painted railing and turned her head just enough to say, “Hey, Princess.”

“Hey, Des.”

“How’s the chaos inside?”

“As one would expect. Where's Scott?”

“Went around front to check on his plentiful flower pots before going in through the garage, I imagine.”

“Camellias, right? I saw them when we pulled up earlier.”

“That’s the ones,” Des reached for another cigarette from the half-smoked pack next to her ashtray, “Now that he's got his strength back, ol’ Scooter's been cleaning this place up like a charm.”

“I've noticed. The backyard looks amazing.”

Desiree lit her cigarette with that signature lighter of hers, then whipped it shut, “Yuuuuup. Didn’t even look this good before he spent half a decade in a coma. Shit…”

“It must be nice, having him around again?” What the hell was the vibe I was getting with this conversation? Desiree seemed so off.

“Yeah, it is. He's always there when I come home…now. He even comes to the store to surprise me for lunch. Like he's makin’ up for lost time, and all.”

“Are you okay, Des?”

“Huh?”

“You seem so—”

“—melancholic?”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry, Candi girl. I'm just—can I tell you something?”

“Of course, yeah.”

“Sarah was my last.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah, complications,” a long puff, “during pregnancy, y’know?”

“Fuck, yeah, no, no,  I am so, so sorry, Des, I—”

“—you don’t gotta worry about nothin’, girly. I probably wouldn't have had another one after her, anyway. I had her so soon after Michael because I was raised like that, y’know? Five siblings, all one after the other. I wanted Michael to grow up with that wild chaos, too, I guess.”

“Are you the oldest?”

“Second oldest, if you'd believe it. Older brother went and got himself killed in Desert Storm, though.”

“Shit, I'm so sorry, Des.”

“Never even met his nephew, poor bastard,” Des pulled herself off of the railing and took her ashtray with her to sit at a porch table.

Joining Des, I asked a dumb question, “Is Sarah's big news…I guess, like…hard for you?”

“Guess so,” not a lick of sarcasm, just a resigned sigh, “She doesn't need me raining on her parade like this, anyway.”

“So you're out here, in the damp, winter afternoon?”

“Yup.”

“Des, I—I mean, I get it. I do.”

“Yeah?”

“I—I'd do anything to—”

“—I know you would, Candace. It isn't on you, though. Just like it ain't on Sarah that I can't—these things just happen, girly. They're a part of life,” Des broke for a beat, to admire the expanse of her backyard. “That boy—that man is where he wants to be. If you don't trust what your heart tells you, at least trust what his heart tells him.”

Resting my head in my hands, propped up on the table, I sighed deeply, then asked without even looking up, “How did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Survive all these years, you know? Without Scott.”

With another long drag, Des gave a wry grin, “I heard his voice every single night, when I was in bed, trying to sleep. Shit, I could feel his face in the palm of my hand.”

Cautiously: “What did he say?”

Putting out her cigarette before it was even half finished, Desiree Summers stood up and gave the most shit-eating grin I had ever seen her give: “The same thing he'd say if I was having this conversation with him right now.”

I blinked, my breath caught in my chest.

“‘I love you’.”

As Desiree motioned for me to follow her back inside the house, I listened for the sound of Michael's voice, hoping to hear the same words.

As much as it hurt to hear sometimes, I wanted to hear it anyway.

 

***

 

December 26, 2023: 

 

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” Annabeth looked amazing in just about anything, even black funeral attire. The way her dress suit—skirted, but aided by comfortable black leggings—hugged her figure just right left me burning with the envy of a thousand suns. Shopping for clothes that fit at six-fucking-feet-three-fucking-inches was a nightmare come to life, after all. The much shorter woman had no idea how lucky she was.

Well, not that I didn’t enjoy being able to look down on people who were shorter than me, like May. 

“What, and have Dad call me slurs again?”

“I mean, she was your mother, too,” Beth countered, checking her hair in the mirror in Megumi’s living room. 

After helping Beth move some things out of her condo into Megumi’s house before we went to Michael's parents’ place yesterday, Beth had been glued to her fiancée like a cat with catnip. It had certainly been an interesting way to spend a Christmas morning, too. Trevor hadn’t been there—Beth had texted him not to be there while we were there helping her move—and it remained a mostly swift and silent affair. 

It was like he was a ghost who existed only between the lines.

“Hinata’s spending the day with Alyssa Johnson and her family, you know? Just run back to your place and slip something on and you and Michael can come with me and Megumi.”

“What, am I showing too much cleavage?” I asked sardonically, motioning with my hands to the way the white dress with a cherry blossom floral print excellently showed off all the debt I had accrued. 

“You are if you’re worried about Father calling you slurs,” Beth’s shrug was the sort of casual frankness I’d come to expect from her over a lifetime of dealing with her, even on her least bitchy days. 

With a roll of my eyes, “Well, I suppose white at a funeral is tacky, anyway.”

“So, you’ll come?”

“If I must,” make the girl work for it, I say, “Text me the location?” 

“Of course, Candace—and I’m sure that Father won’t try anything with so many of us there, either.”

It was hard to sound sincere, “Yeah, surely.”

“I’ll buy you dinner, if he does!”

“Yippee.”

At that, Megumi slipped into the living room, made up nicely in one of her usual outfits that would have made a tailor in 1884 proud, “Is she coming?”

“It would appear.”

“It would appear, indeed,” I grumbled, checking my nails to try and distract myself, “You two try not to get into any trouble while I’m gone, you hear? Wouldn’t want one of you to get pregnant, after all!” Grabbing my purse from the couch, I made my trek over to the coat rack and donned my coat.

“Oh don’t worry, dear, we save that for when you’re watching,” Megumi shot back, dryly.

“WHY DO YOU KEEP DOING THIS TO ME I WAS A CHILD LA LA LA I CAN’T HEAR YOU!!!”

“Toodles, dearest sister,” Beth sing-songed as I opened the front door and zoomed out, “She really does just walk right into these comebacks.”

“Literally.”

Once inside my car, I texted Michael the sudden change of plans for the day and steeled myself for an unpleasant afternoon.

 

***

 

December 26, 2023: 

 

It was much too wintery out to hold a funeral anywhere but inside, so father—or whoever he had delegated the arrangement of the details to—had rented a large enough venue for a sizable portion of the extended Woods family to attend. The venue in question had been the age-old Evangelical church in town, which was hilarious given how decidedly unreligious either of my parents truly were.

Even from a distance, I could tell that the old man looked positively miserable—not because his wife of over thirty years was dead, of course, but because it meant that he had to wine-and-dine in a setting where a degree of emotional vulnerability and response was expected of him. 

The mere sight of him filled me with Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s Requiem in D Minor, thundering at an all-consuming full volume.

I wagered that everyone who did not know the rotting fucker well—or well enough—mistook his discomfort for the social role he was expected to play for his grief. Unfortunately, The old bastard was without a doubt just put out by the necessity of shaking hands and thanking members of his family and close associates that he didn’t particularly care for.

As Annabeth and I approached him, I recognized that—save for giving up the hairline battle and opting for a fully shaved head—the monster looked none too different from the last time I had seen him: a little older, yes, but still that miserable, rotting corpse of hatred that I had always remembered him as being. 

Given his scowl, it was also quite clear that he recognized me, if only because standing next to Annabeth made it strikingly clear that there were, in fact, two of us now.

“What is he doing here, Annabeth?” Father asked through gritted teeth as he pulled the poor woman in for the socially expected hug. The monster paid whatever cost he had to pay to maintain his social appearances.

“Saying goodbye to her mother, Father,” Beth’s tongue matched Arthur Woods’ venom tit-for-tat as she whispered into the old bastard’s ear during their hug and then broke.

“If you make a scene in front of my colleagues and business associates, so help me God—”

“—if God existed you’d have gone long before Mom,” I countered, staring daggers into Arthur Woods’ eyes. It was easier to let the anger and the hate take over, then let myself become that scared little child that had feared the backside of his hand—and the burn of his cigars—for all those years.

An underrated part of what made men like Arthur Woods so upsetting was that they had some twisted, perverse modicum of respect for those who could punch back at them. My father had no verbal reply beyond a scowl and a “Hmph,” that was quickly followed up by him turning his attention to some colleague of his to leave Annabeth and I to our own devices.

“Come on,” Beth huffed, guiding me by my right arm, “Let’s go see her.”

Even with my back to him, I could not escape Mozart’s Requiem from drowning out all else.

It was a strange experience, standing over an open-casket—even stranger that the body inside was my mother, made up in makeup to give her face some color. In a way, the corpse that had once been Darcy Woods looked fake. There was an irregularity to seeing a woman who appeared in my memories only as an aloof or nagging drunk looking so at peace. It almost made me angry, that after all these years, she was now no longer able to suffer in the same plane of existence as the rest of us. 

Darcy Woods had escaped the jaws of Hell for the embrace of a slightly less awful Hell. It was somehow both upsetting and poetic.

“Surreal, isn’t it?” A voice I had not heard in nearly half a decade asked, as its owner whispered richly into my ear.

Turning to my left, I was immediately greeted by the pristinely kept face of my older cousin, Clive, “Oh, jeez! Watch where you’re—”

“Sorry, sorry, Candace, I just meant to tease,” Clive leaned back, next to his exceptionally tall plus-one: a woman with a purple-dyed undercut—and a matching dress that looked more party than funeral—stood by his side. 

Slowly but surely, a memory began to resurface and—shamefully—I shot a quick glance to the woman’s hands and then back to Clive before either could notice. 

“You’ve met my wife, Kate, before, I do believe,” Clive sounded like the smuggest motherfucker in the world as he reintroduced the woman before me. I couldn’t believe that the bastard had actually married a trans woman.

“Charmed,” Beth cut in, trying to prevent any awkwardness from surfacing.

“It’s lovely to see you again,” I added with a wave, putting my best poker face on. How the fuck did he—did living with me for a little while actually help him grow as a person?

“Same to you, Candace. Clive filled me in on your accident—” my eyes quickly shot over to Beth, who just shrugged her admission of guilt, “—I hope you’re doing okay?”

“O-oh, yeah, no, I’m good,” I lied, like one typically does, “I’ve got most of my memories back, I think. Heck of a month I’ve been having, though.”

“Goodness, I can imagine. Clive and I just got back in town from California, I’m so sorry for the loss you two must be feeling right now.”

Beth was a lot better at feigning grief than I was.

Pulling Clive aside, while leaving Beth to entertain Kate, I broke character, “You married a trans woman?”

“Who did your surgeries, by the way? I mean, they’re good, but I could have done better—?”

“Don’t change the subject, Clive,” I shot back, snippy.

“Yes, Kate’s you-know-what, now will you keep it down? She doesn’t like people knowing,” Clive’s usual smug demeanor gave way to a seriousness I wasn’t used to him being capable of, so I backed down.

“S-sorry, I’m just—I just don’t want you ruining her life, you know?”

“We’ve been together for two years, Candace, I think we’re fine.”

“Did you break up?”

“I mean, we were never serious—until we were. It’s just one of those things, you know?”

I hated how world-weary Clive sounded, “Yeah, yeah, I know—yeah. Okay, so, like, why a—?”

“Jesus Christ, do I really need to explain love to you, too, Candace?”

It was hard not to roll my eyes, “You just don’t really seem the type to—”

“I tried to learn to be better. Perhaps it stuck?”

“God, you’re difficult to talk to, you know that?”

“I’ve been told that my bedside manner is lacking before, yeah,” the smug prick grinned from ear to ear. It was hard not to return his grin with a devilish one of my own.

“Does anyone else in the family, you know, know?”

“That baby sister of mine, yeah. Her husband, too. Not sure if my folks know, though.”

“So, you’re okay with, you know, Tabby being—”

“Yes, I am. Candace, it’s been five years, I’ve had a lot of time to get used to a lot of things.”

“Right, right, right, yeah—it’s just weird, you know?”

“I mean, I haven’t seen you in five years and I’m sure you’re changed a lot more than just lip fillers, a boob job or three and facial feminization surgery.”

I hated to give it to him, but he was making a point, “Okay, okay, point taken. Just don’t ruin—just keep making her happy, then.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” the all-star surgeon preened, “Speaking of which,” Clive nodded with his head to my Michael, entertaining Megumi at the open bar, “Are you and ‘Tall, Dark & Handsome’ back together?”

“For two years now, yeah.”

“Funny how stories repeat themselves throughout history, isn’t it?”

“Oh hush, you,” rolling my eyes was more of an automatic response than anything else, “Michael and I are back together, yes. Any other questions?”

“Married?”

I could feel the acid reflux crawling up my throat, “Not at present, no.”

“Aah, gotcha. Work, then? Did you ever get a job teaching?”

“I teach English at the high school here in town, yeah.”

“The old alma mater, is it?” Clive raised his eyebrows in a show of mock surprise, “Must be surreal, teaching where you were once…taught.”

“You get used to it, but yeah. The kids are as great as you can expect—most of my colleagues, too.”

“Is Principal Sanderson still there?”

“You guessed it!”

“God, I remember how she was so hot—uh—well, enough of that. I imagine you’re enjoying life, then? Without the inheritance, I mean.”

“For a guy who professes to have matured, you sure can come across as an ass.”

“I have a reputation to uphold, don’t I?” Clive’s laugh drew a reluctant smirk from my lips, “But no, really, I’m glad. You’re doing a lot better for the world as Ms. Woods the English teacher than you ever would working for Apollo Arms or some business owned by the family.”

“Well, Ms. Queen, but yeah.”

“New last name?”

“Seemed appropriate, given—”I gestured around me “—everything I was going through, yeah.”

“I suppose the way that things went down at that Christmas half a dozen years ago must have made things awkward, yeah. God, was that really six years ago already?”

“Shoot, yeah, I guess?” There was a strange disconnect to it all. Two days earlier had technically been the sixth anniversary of my coming out as gay at the family gathering. The world—hell, my life—changed so much since then.

Had I, too, changed? I hoped to whatever force drove this fucked existence that I had, at least. As awful as I treated him, I still believed that Michael deserved better.

“Attention everyone,” a voice called out, “We’ll be beginning the service in just a moment, so if you’ll all take your seats.”

Staring across the crowd of mostly much shorter people like one radio tower to another, Michael smiled softly at me. Whatever today was going to bring, I knew that at least I could have him there to squeeze his hand blue.

 

***

 

December 26, 2023: 

 

The ceremony had only not been dry because of the free booze being served—something Mother would have no doubt been a fan of. Few tears had been shed for Darcy Woods, save for the friends she had so often referred to as ‘The Girls’ when going out for a bit of fun. Arthur Woods played up his grief, leaving the role of eulogist to Annabeth. Her speech had been perfunctory, giving praise to our mother where she did not deserve it, simply because it provided the class she belonged to a palatable social gathering.

That’s really all funerals were, in the world of the high-class and powerful elites of western Washington: an excuse for the bourgeoisie to gather and drink themselves into stupor amid their own masturbation. 

Hunched over and sneaking a shot from the open bar, I turned to find an unfamiliar woman joining me on my right. Clad in all black herself, the woman—hair a golden bun—lowered her sunglasses just enough to make eye contact with me.

“Can I help you, miss?”

“Annabeth Woods, right? We’ve met a few times before at your father's work place?”

“Candace, actually,” I corrected, turning to give the woman a clearer look at all the little things that set me apart from my sister, like the giant, obviously fake breasts, for example.

The woman's surgically enhanced face took a new shade of embarrassment, “Oh, you look so much like someone else, I apologize—”

“—I’m her younger sister,” it felt good to say, even if there was still a nagging part of my brain that wanted to call me a liar. Sarcastically, I stood up right, “Hard to tell with the height, I know.” 

“O-oh, then you’re—oh, my god?!”

Blinking, I felt the first waves of a stomach ache coming on, “Yes?”

The woman recomposed herself, holding her tongue, “My apologies, I know it’s impolite to say that sort of thing. What I mean is, I’m Mary Holiday, your father’s secretary at Apollo Arms.”

Now that was a surprise, “Oh? Umm…hi? Are you looking for Arthur? He’s over—”

“—No, no, I was hoping to speak to your sister, but you’ll do just fine: I’m here to tell you that—” the woman had already appeared to be a ghastly pale, but with each new syllable came a new shade even less healthy-looking, “—I don’t believe that your mother’s death was an accident.”

My blood ran cold, “What?” Sweat suddenly seeped out of nearly every inch of my skin.

The woman pointed down with her eyes, “Notice anything?”

Taking a closer look—even if the very process of lowering my line of sight felt like slowly stabbing my eyes with butcher knives—I noticed something very odd about her body through the heavy coat she wore. Beyond just the beautifully large, fake breasts that put mine to shame, it was clear that they were resting on something. After a beat, I finally realized exactly what I was seeing: “Oh, fuck.”

The 4th movement of Ludwig van Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 exploded into my ears, an all-encompassing, blaring torrent of water crashing down on me, washing me up on the shores of a siege by water. Thousands of soldiers leapt from their water craft into the shallows of the beach and stomped up the shore amidst the ratata-ing of their rifles and the cannon fire of both sides, determined to stop the other from advancing. Caught amid the battlefield, I felt my knees give out beneath me and sending me crashing right into the sand, fingers in ears, and eyes shut tightly, lest I see one more teenager—like those I so loved teaching—blown to smithereens or sent crashing onto the sandy shores of the enemy territory with bullet holes renovating their skulls. The red of blood dyed my vision until all I could do was scream as the enemy combatants all swamped in on me, each bearing the face of the man I despised—and yes, feared—Arthur Woods.

“I’m sorry, Candace,” Mary whimpered, suddenly overtaken with emotion, “I didn’t think—when I told him I was—I’m so, so sorry, Candace. Please, you have to know that I—”

Mary’s tight grasp on my right hand was the only thing grounding me back in reality. The old man had knocked up his secretary and killed his wife. There was only one last piece of the puzzle to confirm what anyone could have pieced together: “Is it a—?”

“—Yes, it is,” Mary’s voice was thin and shredded, as if her voice had been scraped across a country road in the summer. 

“That motherfucker,” my words filtered through what was a horrible, guttural noise. I looked at Beth from across the room: she was distracted by Megumi, Michael, Clive, Kate, Tabby and Jace. Perhaps it was for the better.

The old bastard was busy talking to colleagues, his back turned to me. His disgust of me was Mary's salvation.

I ordered another shot from the oblivious bartender and downed it before breaking the silence between myself and my father’s mistress, “Do you have any proof?”

“That he—? No, not—I overheard some things, but I never expected Arthur to—oh god, I am so, so sorry.”

“D-don’t worry about it,” I wasn’t even sure if it was the right thing to say or how I truly felt, but I needed the bitch to stop babbling, “Arthur Woods is a grown man who can make his own—god fucking damn, that son of a bitch!”

Cast aside the failed son, then be rewarded with a second? 

Evil truly was rewarded in this world. The innocent and the victimized were always punished while those who ruined the lives of others—down to their very souls—fattened on their stolen riches. 

 

***

 

December 26, 2023: 

 

“Jesus Christ, I’m ordering in,” Megumi groaned as the rest of us crashed on her living room furniture. 

“A-are you sure about this, Miss Holiday?”

“Mary, Beth, as I've continually told you to call me” the beleaguered woman chided with the sort of playfulness that betrayed the strained look of heightened alert in her eyes, “Thank you for inviting me over. Are you sure that your father doesn’t know that I’m here?”

“Unless he’s got a private investigator following you, I doubt it. Dad’s never even visited my condo, let alone Megumi’s house.”

“Our house,” Megumi corrected from the kitchen.

Beth offered us a little smile at her fiancée’s annoyed scolding, “Yes, our house. That being said, Ms. Holiday—”

“—Mary, please—”

“—Mary—I just—I just wanted to confirm with you, you and my father—”

“—yes, we have.”

Silence filled the room. Angered continued to broil away in my belly as it began to settle in that this poor girl was even younger than me. “H-how old—remind me how old you are again, Mary?”

“Twenty-one?”

“Jesus Christ,” it was hard to hide just how much rage filled my veins, “That monster coerced a twenty-one year old—that he employed—into a fucking affair?!”

Mary’s shoulders dropped with him just as much as her face.

“It’s not your fault,” Beth quickly added, peeling what layers she could afford to peel off of her as her body temperature rose, “Jesus, I’m so sorry, Mary. We’ve spoken so many times whenever I had to stop by his office, but—I’m sorry, I’m getting off track. How far along…?”

“Twenty-five weeks,” the shame she felt only drove me madder, but I kept the vitriol to myself. This girl deserved better than to be another one of Arthur Woods’ victims. 

“Did he ever force himself on you?” Beth asked, the voice of an exacting lawyer suddenly taking over. “I don’t mean to be rude, but you’ve obviously had some work done.”

Marry remained silent for a moment, before nodding, “Y-yes,” the girl gestured all over herself, “Mister Wo—I mean, Arthur Woods—all of the executives at Apollo Arms ‘offer’ these kinds of surgeries to the women who work there. I was under the impression that I would receive a raise, and I did, but it wasn't enough to just quit and I—” a beat passed, the hollowed out woman getting lost in a thousand yard stare none could match. “He was so charming at the beginning.”

“Goddamned bastard,” I spat, feeling my body spasm around the room as the mounting rage escaped my heart, “Beth, can’t we do something? Sue? Call the cops?”

“He’s got an army of lawyers, but I’ll fight him tooth-and-nail to protect Mary and the baby, if I have to.”

“Do you have some place you can stay? That he doesn’t know about?” First order of business: protect the vulnerable party.

“Aah, no. I—I don’t have any family.”

No wonder he hired her: he could isolate her from anyone who would tell her that an affair with such a wealthy and powerful man was dangerous.

“You can stay at my condo, then. Nobody else will be there and it’ll be a while before I have the time to sell it.”

“A-are you sure, Annabeth?”

“Yes, don’t worry about it, Miss Holiday—”

“—Mary, please.”

“Yes, right, Mary: you have nothing to worry about. Don’t worry about my fee, either. You’re—I won’t be failing a second younger sibling, let alone his mother.”

There was no denying the determination that somehow layered beneath the sadness in Annabeth’s exacting, clipped voice. I was starstruck by her in ways that felt so nostalgic. It had never occurred to me that she harbored guilt for whatever transpired during our childhood. At the same time, her defiant glare made the reality of the situation all the more real to me: I was going to be a big sister.

Holy fuck, I was going to be a big sister!

 

***

 

December 27, 2023: 

 

“How’re things going with, uh, you know, the whole Mary Situation?” Michael’s voice carried the question before I had even finished turning the corner into the kitchen of our godawful apartment, tapping away on my phone. He was only in his boxers and a black tanktop, strategically cut to show off his guns. Watching him stir over a hot stove never got old—thank god my cooking sucked.

“It’s going,” I mustered, “Megumi says that Beth’s going over every detail with Mary to build their case before pressing charges.”

“I hope the stress isn't too much for her.”

“You mean with the whole ‘pregnant woman helping other pregnant woman’ thing?”

With an exaggerated nod, “Well, yeah?”

“I mean, it couldn't be any worse than when she was with her ex-husband, that piece of shit.”

“True, yeah. I imagine that having Megumi at her side now will probably help reduce a lot of her stress, too.”

“Megumi was talking like she was waiting on Beth's every beck-and-call, yeah. My sister might just be the only workaholic alive who could survive this whole situation while pregnant.”

Michael's slow, casual chuckle at that truly wrapped around me like a warm blanket.

“Jeez, winter break has been weird so far,” my arms saw fit to wrap themselves around Michael’s neck, “What say you and I just sleep in the rest of the day?”

“Candi, it’s ten in the morning,” and yet you were still smiling, you big lunk.

“Okay, you can take these big guns of yours and use my holes to polish your pole for a bit, first! Hey, don’t roll your eyes at me, mister!”

“What say we go to the zoo lights tonight? We haven’t gone yet this year.”

“Aah! To think, a man would deny the advances of a lady caller!! By ‘tonight’ do you mean ‘four in the afternoon’?” 

“Hey, s’not my fault Washington has, like, two hours of murky sunlight a day this time of year!”

“Pfft, you fuckin’ dork. Sounds good to me, but first I gotta see about a blow job.”

“Good grief.”

 

***

 

December 27, 2023: 

 

“I mean, listen, all I'm sayin’ is that it's insulting to me as a woman who has had a lot of work done to see secretaries and shit getting maybe-sorta-coerced into basically becoming bimbofication story characters. Am I crazy?”

“I mean, you’re not wrong, but—”

“—Yeah, yeah, I know—I'm making it all about me! But, still!! Holy shit, did you see her? Mary looks like she could fix her bra strap on a sweaty-hot day and the slightest little jiggle would make ten million of the most nearby cocks jizz rivers of jizz to jizzing jizz-jizz that a bajizzion people keel over and DIE!!!”

“I mean, my eyes are typically preoccupied gazing upon my gorgeous girlfriend.”

“Ugh, please! Flattery shall get you nowhere, Mikey.”

“It’s gotten me waking up next to the most stunning woman in the world everyday, has it not?”

“Oh, so now you want sex!”

“I wouldn't think of doing it at the zoo, Candi. What will the animals say?”

“Pfft, fuckin’ meathead!”

“Hey, I can show you some meat head when we get home—”

“Omigawd, you horndog!”

“Okay, okay, maybe we should tone it down, there are still families here.”

“Yeah, ack, you're right,” I conceded.

It didn't stop Michael from giving my ass one last squeeze, though. My panties grew just the slightest bit more wet up front.

Each year, for the winter season, the local zoo in Tacoma did a neat little Christmas light display all around the zoo. One year in the 1990s, the zoo even had a knock-off wooden Godzilla display that lit up. Even twenty-five years later I could still recall how much it terrified me. I never found out what happened to the display after that one year, but I hoped that it survived somewhere to this day.

With the sun setting and Washington weather what it was, I made sure to layer up in leggings, a cute pink shirtdress I had gambled on fitting when I bought it off of a shady website a few months ago, and the warmest coat I owned. I nevertheless still felt the crisp chill of the winter night and at the back of my mind prayed that my nipples were not visible through the fabric.

Michael—with all of his testosterone—seemed unperplexed in his jeans, tee shirt, hoodie and that denim jacket he wore so often. A little ‘furnace body’ still wasn’t enough to make me ever consider going back on testosterone, though. 

“I always wonder how the animals react to all these lights,” Michael mused aloud, holding me tight. His hand was playing footsy with traveling down a little lower than just the small of my back.

“I'm pretty sure a lot of them just hide.”

“Yeah, true. Still, it's gotta be weird.”

“Like getting spied on while you're trying to sleep?”

“Oh, yeah, for sure. Oh jeez, now that I think about it, I hope I never wake up in the middle of the night with someone standing over me, about to stab me.”

“I mean, we live in Gravelly Lake—there's either an urban legend or recorded, factual cases for everything.”

“Pfft, you mean like that cicada man that's supposedly been haunting the town for decades?”

“Hey, it ain't my fault he's apparently been at the scene of so many murders and disappearances! There were entire parts of the town we avoided visiting when I was growing up!” 

Michael just rolled his eyes—as best as I could tell in the dark, that is—and continued walking beside me as we approached the penguin exhibit. The cute little buggers were all huddled together in the back, keeping warm. 

An uneasy sense of Déjà vu ran like a cool liquid down my spine, but I pushed it to the back of my mind and leaned against Michael to bask in his warmth.

Just like a penguin.

“Aunt Candi?!” Called out a pleasantly familiar voice. Leaning forward and to our right, I spotted Hinata and her mothers at the other end of the penguin exhibit. 

“Well, look who it is!” I called back, bringing out my most child-friendly voice.

Hinata was already in transit, running with her little legs over to me and Michael with excitement that—while uncharacteristic—was quite welcomed. 

“Fancy meeting you three and forthcoming here!” I beamed, crouching down to meet Hinata on her level.

“Haha, very funny, Candace,” Beth's monotonous droll was of undeterminable authenticity. 

“If we had known that you two were going to be here we would have coordinated with you!”

“No worries, Meg. Mikey and I are just here as a spur of the moment thing. Besides, I’m sure you three probably want some time together, yeah?”

Megumi and Beth blushed in that way adults do when they're still too shy about a relationship. It was cute, really. Those two had been so intertwined in my mind for the past twenty years that there was still a bit of a disconnect in finally seeing them actually together—no more of the bullshit that our parents thrust on Annabeth keeping her from just being with who she wanted to be with. It wouldn’t be until I was fifty years old that those two would be together longer than they were living in that hellish period of uncertainty.  

“Enjoying the lights, Hinata?” Michael asked, that familiar fatherly tone in his voice.

I swallowed how much it hurt to hear him speak that way, holding on to sanity for dear life.

“Yeah! I hope the penguins are okay, though. It must be very hard to sleep with people walking around and talking so much.” Upon closer inspection, I wasn’t quite sure that Hinata was wearing clothing from the boy’s section.

“Well then, perhaps we should relocate this conversation?”

A few moments later, our little surprise encounter had situated itself around a free bench away from any animal exhibits. Megumi had managed to trick Beth into sitting down by asking her to sit down with her as if she were the one who needed to rest.

It was hard not to be jealous of their shenanigans. 

“How're you doing, anyway?” I asked my sister, right hand kept warm by her future wife's grasp. There were already rings on their fingers.

“I'm fine, really.”

“She spent all morning working on Mary's case, so I convinced her to take a break and spend some time with her understanding and loving wife and their beautiful little girl,” Megumi corrected, shining light on Annabeth's omission. 

“Since when does ten make me ‘little’?” Hinata interjected, voice somewhere between sass and literalness.

“I'm fine! Also, see? I'm resting, by being here, with you and Hinata! Aren't I a good girl?” We were apparently just going to ignore Hinata's question.

“You’re the best girl!” It felt like I was watching something play out that the cosmos should not have allowed for me to, but I elected to politely remain silent and unmoving, just in case I embarrassed them—or myself—by inching back.

“Oh, right!” Megumi snapped back to attention, “Beth and I made a decision.”

Michael and I tilted our heads in unified confusion.

“Megumi and I are getting married on Sunday.”

“Woah, what?!” I nearly shouted, “New Year’s Eve?!”

"We don't want to end the year unwed, so we're getting married. It won't be a fancy thing, just at the house, but we'd like you two to be there.”

“Oh gawd, of course!” A decade of queer and feminine mannerisms kicked into overdrive as I bent over to give both women hugs, “Holy moly, I’ve got nothing to wear! Mikey, let’s go up to Seattle tomorrow! I gotta get something nice!”

“Honestly, you could just wear sweats or pajamas or whatever if you want,” Megumi remarked casually.

“As if either of you are going to be in sweats! Or pajamas! Or whatever!!” 

Annabeth looked like she had given up without a fight on the subject of clothing for the wedding affair, “Wear whatever you like, then—just don’t outdress us. Especially me.”

“Oh, now I’m totally going to outdress you!”

“Jesus, you’ve always been like this, Candace. Spoiled little princess!” 

“Don’t you roll your eyes on me, sister dearest! I spent nineteen years in the most drab clothes imaginable, I still have a lot of time to make up on!” If I looked half as satisfied with myself as I sounded then I probably sounded like a cartoon character, but it was hard to ignore how much fun I was having.

“Please, you’re as bad as you were when you were nine, Candace.”

“What are you talking about?”

Megumi interjected before Beth could retort, “You really don’t remember? You used to dress up with us all the time when your parents weren’t around.”

A piercing ringing ripped across and then through my brain, as if a blade was dicing it into a thousand little cubes, “Wh-what are you talking about?”

“Do you really not remember? I figured the whole crossdressing thing you were doing in college was because you—well, whatever,” Beth continually left her explanations unfinished and it was maddening.

My legs grew weak and began to buckle, but Michael swiftly snapped into action and held me upright until I could be squeezed onto the bench between the girls.

“Candace, are you—? H-have you eaten anything since breakfast?” Michael asked, bending over to hold my face steady.

It was hard to parse what all the voices around me were saying, “H-huh? I’m—I’m fine, everyone!”

It was a lie, of course. My brain felt as if it was tearing itself open from the inside out and my waist felt like it was being squeezed inward by a giant’s hand.

Pictures of a nine year old girl in a pink dress, looking at herself in the mirror skipped frames through my mind. I could remember Annabeth and Megumi’s hushed whispers mixed between their words of encouragement for the girl. The girl turned around Annabeth’s childhood room at the dreary Cassadine Castle, but never once did I see Annabeth’s little brother—no, wait—

—Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, WAIT! The girl in the dress! The girl in the dress!! Annabeth and Megumi were calling her—

—Princess Candi!!

The character I had made up for my stories?! But who—? I mean, I—oh, god?!

“I knew I was a girl when I was nine?!” The girls’ hands rubbed my back while Michael held my hands and looked into my eyes, trying desperately to get me to focus on him. 

“Candace, can you hear me?”

“Y-yes, Mikey?”

“Candace, do you know where you are?”

“Zoolights. December 27. It’s a Wednesday, if I remember correctly.”

Don’t feel anything, don’t let the emotions—just fucking stop hyperventilating, goddamn it!! Stupid fucking faggot!! You’re having a fucking panic attack in front of a ten year old, for fuck’s sake!!! 

With all my strength, I slowed my breathing and squeezed Michael’s hands, just to remind myself of the present I was living in, “I’m fine, really!” For some reason, my legs were already standing me up off of the bench, “Come on, I don’t want to make a scene. Besides, we still got more lights to see!”

With a little oomph, I managed to break away from Michael’s grasp and took several steps away from the group. My legs felt like jelly, but I managed to hold myself upright, “I’m completely fine, I promise! Come on, we got a ten year old who I’m positive wants to see some more of these gorgeous light displays! Right, Hinata?”

The poor girl was back to that championship-winning poker face from before her coming out. The brilliant, shining star had been snuffed out, entirely because of me and my goddamned panic attack. 

I pushed a horrible, intrusive thought of self-harm with my car keys from my mind.

“How about you four go on ahead, I have to run to the lady’s room first!” The cheeriness was a lie that I knew neither Michael, Annabeth, nor Megumi would fall for, but I couldn’t bring myself to break in front of Hinata again. Speedwalking to the nearest restroom, I hurried into an empty stall, bent over, and initiated another purge. Little of significance came up. 

“Candace, are you in here?” Annabeth had followed me into the restroom, that fucking bitch. 

Slamming my fist down on the toilet seat, I stood up, straightened my outfit, and exited the stall only to be met with my red and puffy-faced older sister, nearly on the verge of tears.  

Slowly walking over to the sink to wash my hands, I finally said, “Don’t worry, nothing came up. I haven’t eaten enough today.”

Annabeth didn’t say anything—she did not have to.

Her embrace from behind said it all.

 

***

 

December 28, 2023:

 

They say that you can't outrun your demons, but I had never met a demon I couldn't hide from at the bottom of a bottle—or riding the cock of a man. 

Unfortunately, Michael wasn't in the mood for a ride and I didn't have the courage to jump back into a bottle, so I settled for running on a treadmill. 

Perhaps not the wisest decision for a woman trying to run from something, but I enjoyed the runner's high I had developed over the past hour of running. 

Running with breasts the size of cantaloupes was something I learned how to deal with since I got them. Lots of sports bras! I still enjoyed how my implants looked, but I was ready to go up a few sizes. The bigger my breasts, the better they looked on my ugly, wide, mannish chest. Unfortunately, that would have to wait until after my bottom surgery this coming summer. Sure, nobody saw a man when they looked at me, and perhaps they never had. I didn't care what others thought, though, because I understood a truth about myself that no man lusting after me in this gym did.

Where in the fuck was all this even coming from, anyway? I am supposed to be doing better! I was doing so much better before—just because everyone around me is off getting pre—

—a beautiful red-headed woman—Lilah, if I remembered our previous smalltalk properly—got on the treadmill next to me, tearing me from my thoughts. While slim, she had impressive biceps that looked like she could knock a guy out with a single punch. She wore a tank top that exposed her shoulders, thanks to her hair being tied up, and it felt like a challenge—from some cruel arbiter of fate—to me to not watch the grace with which she set the speed on the treadmill and began running. It was a grace born of her theater training, training that gave her smaller, less broad frame an irresistible beauty.  

I did my best to not stare, but her soft pink lips on that fair skin of hers were beyond enchanting. Being able to see the gorgeous women in the mirrors in front of us did not make it easier for either of us to not sneak a glance or to not stare. I hated myself for desiring her, for wanting to ruin my relationship with Michael just to fulfill a frivolous desire to harm myself by cheating on him.

So, I ran harder.  

And harder.

And harder.

Finally, a hand from my right slapped the emergency stop button on my treadmill and before I knew it, I was slowing to a stop.

“Huh?”

“Girl, you looked like you were about to pass out. Are you okay?”

I hadn’t noticed until Lilah had said it, but my breathing sounded like it was being weighed down by an anvil. The Candace panting in the reflection of the mirror before me was concerningly red. She was even—I had grabbed my water bottle and begun chugging it.

Emptying the cheap plastic, I turned back to Lilah, still lost for breath. 

“You good, girl? Lilah's voice was a husky velvet that enchanted like a night club songstress singing to the boys in uniform on their last night before shipping out to the frontlines. 

“Y-yeah, sorry?”

“Maybe it's time to call it a day?”

“Yeah, p-probably?”

“Do you need any help walking to the locker room or—?”

“N-nah, I'll drive home and shower there. Thanks!”

I wobbled off of my treadmill, but Lilah didn't seem convinced and followed after me. So much for either of us wiping down the treadmills. 

“Something got you running from some demons?”

“I've had a hell of a week, actually, and it ain't over yet.”

“Oh, wow. Do you need an ear?”

“Huh?”

“Like, someone to talk to about it? I know this café, just a little further down Main Street?”

“Oh, umm, that'd be nice?”

“Cool! How's about I meet you there in an hour? An hour and a half?”

“Uh, sure, Lilah?”

“Awesome, see you then, Candi!”

Had…Lilah just asked me out?

 

***

 

December 28, 2023:

 

Tucked away in a small strip with a household appliance repair shop to its left and a leather repair shop to its right—with two other suites unfilled at present—was a small café named Armand's. The building itself was ancient—seemingly having gone to school with any number of people from the Carter administration—and showed it by the way the paint was chipping off of the long-browning white building. Every single door in the strip required a little bit of elbow grease to pry open, but despite all of the unpleasantries, Armand had managed to spruce up the inside of his little enterprise as much as possible for someone only able to afford to pay the rent for such an ill-kept strip mall. At the very least, it was atmospheric. 

Dressed to impress, I found Lilah—herself in a nice, oversized lavender sweater and black leggings—tucked away in a little corner in the back, drinking something in a medium-sized disposable hot drink container thing—good lord, I couldn’t even formulate the right word for it, I was so anxious. Spotted before I could even move forward, Lilah waved me over to her table as she placed her phone down. Not sure what I was doing, I made my way to the exuberantly grinning woman’s table and stiffly sat down.

“I'm glad you could make it, Candi!” Lilah's smile radiated like the first sunny day of spring. 

I hated it.

“No problem at all, it's nice to get to talk to you when I'm not covered in sweat for once!”

“Girl, same!”

It was nice to share a laugh with a beautiful woman, even if I hated myself for what I was thinking.

“Come here often?”

“Oh, yeah. It's better than heading to some silly chain place and overpaying, y'know?”

“Yeah, for sure. I love the atmosphere here!”

“Chalk one up to visiting a café run by a queer man.”

Following Lilah's line of sight, I noticed a Progress flag—that I had somehow missed when walking in—proudly displayed. Did that mean that Lilah was at least an ally? Or that she was also queer?

“Oh, that’s a lovely surprise,” I softballed, trying not to sound too excited.

“Do you pitch or catch?” Lilah asked, an amused look on her face

“What?!” I nearly choked on my own spit, “I'm sorry?”

“I notice, you know?”

“Huh?” Words were failing me. Was this really happening?

“Candi, come on! It's okay, you know, if you like softball—literally or figuratively.”

“Omigawd, is it that obvious?” Embarrassment was undoubtedly pouring like a red lava into the pores on my cheeks.

Lilah gave my seated body a coy once over with her very interested eyes, “I'm definitely not complaining.”

“Lilah, I'm sorry, I just—I mean, you’re a very attractive woman, I hope—okay, like, I know you don't mind what I was doing, but still—”

“Are you inexperienced with women?” The redhead asked, curiosity not tampering her barely disguised interest.

Normally, it didn't bother me when women looked at me like that, but now—

“—apologies, if I'm being too forward, Candace,” Lilah returned to stirring her drink with her straw, but her eyes showed no sign of surrender. 

This was so awkward, “N-no, you’re fine! It's me, I'm—I'm just going through so much lately.”

“Yeah, you looked like you were going to break the sound barrier back there.”

“I mean, I couldn't even hear you talking to me, so perhaps I had?”

“Perhaps. So, what fire has been lit underneath you?”

Why was I even doing this? “My sister's getting married on Sunday.”

“Mazel tov?”

“I guess, yeah. I mean, I've been trying to get her to marry her girlfriend for a decade at this point.” Why was I doing this?

Lilah raised an eye, “Do I sense that this runs in the family?”

“More than you know. Anyway, I'm just—she's pregnant again, too. It's a lot.” Why? Why? Why? Why?!

Lilah had an air of seriousness to her emerald eyes now, “You can't have kids, can you?”

“No, I can't,” Don’t cry, don’t weep, don’t show weakness, don’t—

“I—I'm sorry. That really sucks.”

“I've known my entire life and I still haven't—it’s whatever,” tears were flowing freely now. It was a relief, I would not cheat on Michael, now. As much as I wanted to self-sabotage, I wanted to stop myself. I wanted to just fucking let go and—

“—Candace, are you okay?”

Doubling over, clutching my head, a chaotic symphony from Hell roared in my mind. Sounds, voices, slammed doors and broken bottles of glass pierced through my brain like a rusted dagger. Struggling to my feet, I forced a smile, “Yeah, fine, just g-gotta g-get home and lie d-down.”

“Maybe I should drive y—”

“No, no, I'm good—I'm—thank you, Lilah. For the talk.”

“I'm not sure you should be alone—”

“—My boyfriend should be home right now, it's fine!”

Lilah's face loosened up into a look of surprise. The news had to have been a shock to her, given how I had been looking at her. That was good, though! Ruin the acquaintanceship! Don’t make it easy to just flirt with some other girl behind Michael’s back, just to have a new excuse to hate yourself a little more and ruin your relationship with him!!

Unable to face Lilah and her look of concern any longer, I sped out the entrance before I could hear a reply.

As I drove home, one hand on the wheel and the other clutching my temple and forehead, I couldn't stop hearing Johann Pachelbel's Canon.

 

***

 

December 28, 2023:

 

Michael was asleep on the couch when I returned home, sleeping. It didn't take long for me to give in to my selfishness and take off my shoes and coat to join him on the couch and hold him.

“Candi?” Michael asked, stirring at my touch.

Wrapping my arms around his broad torso, I shushed my body, pressed my substantial chest into him, closed my eyes and just tried to bathe in his musk.

I wanted to forget about everything again and return to those first few days of my amnesia, when I was falling in love with Michael all over again. Surely the third time would be the charm?

Michael gently wrapped his arms around me, stood and lifted me off of the couch, and then carried me to our bed, where he gently lowered me atop our comforter and then joined me on the bed.

Through barely opened eyes, I could see Michael just watching me, that usual look of awe on his face.

I didn't deserve to be looked at that way—

—even if I was the most beautiful woman to ever exist.

As Michael brushed my hair with that large, soft left hand of his, I drifted off to sleep—

—and heard the laughter of children.

 

***

 

December 29, 2023:

 

I had never visited Beth’s condo before. Situated on the water in downtown Tacoma, the place was near the top of a large skyscraper with an impressive view of the water and port. Even large freighters were visible in the distance, only partially blending in with the general gray colors of the state. The gray afternoon skies of Washington winter set the mood as I overlooked the busy city before me through a ceiling-reaching window.

“I hope that green tea is okay, it’s all your sister had on hand,” Mary whispered, shades of shyness permeating her voice and body language.

Turning back part way to accept the mug—World’s Other Best Mom printed on the side in crayon-esque font—I gave the young woman a smile, “Of course, thank you, Miss Holi—”

“—Mary, please.”

“Yes, right, Mary—thank you, Mary. I hope that I wasn’t disturbing you?” Numerous blankets had been draped and bunched up all over the couch and judging by the coffee table, Mary had been living mostly in front of the television, trying to keep her mind off of everything.

“Oh, not at all. It’s actually nice to have someone over who doesn’t need to help me go over my defense,” Mary placed a hand on her pronounced baby bump—an oversized shirt draped over it—and sipped her hot chocolate. 

I did my best not to stare.

“Although, I must confess, your formal wear did make me wonder if perhaps you were here on business.”

Employing a soft grin in the wake of the young woman’s casual flirtation—gawd, I hope that’s what it was—I held my tea in and did a quick glance down at the pink, three-piece dress suit I had decided to wear, “Oh, well, I just felt like making a better second impression than I did first.”

“Candace, that black number you wore at the funeral was to die for. You looked amazing! Better than me, even!!”

“Oh gosh, you flatter me, Mary!! You looked amazing, too!”

“Ugh, I looked almost as bad as I do now!”

“Girl, please, you’re having a hell of a weird life, you’re fine. Even now you look comfy and cute!”

“Oh gosh, Candace, don’t make me blush! Thank you for coming by, though, I appreciate it!”

“No, no, you’re perfectly fine, dear! I know you said that you didn’t have family the other day, but do you have any friends?”

“It's hard to make and keep friends when you work as much as I did,” it was a soft reply, with a hint of bitterness. The way that Mary spoke was like a woman just now coming to terms with how much her life had been a lie. It was horrible.

It reminded me a lot of how I felt, after I had broken up with Michael six years ago.

“Understandable. I was afraid of that, which is why I wanted to visit!” When I let my eyes drift to her belly, I did my best not to grimace, “We're going to be family now, after all.”

Mary took a beat to clear her throat—I could see all the thoughts racing through her head, “I suppose in a way, yes, we are.”

It was hard not to notice how frazzled her blonde hair was. The poor woman looked—it was finally beginning to hit me that she was tall for a cis woman, just two or three inches shorter than me—like she was barely sleeping and it made me only want to take care of her more. 

My legs decided to move on their own. Pacing into the kitchen on my stilettos, I began checking through the cupboards.

“Candace?”

“Go sit on the couch, dear, I'm going to make us dinner.”

“Wait, are you—I can help?”

“No, no, none of that. You take the two of you and enjoy some television, I'm going to whip us up some—” children's snacks filled the first cupboard I opened that wasn't just coffee filters “—thing, surely.” 

Finally, I stumbled upon some pasta in a cupboard behind a bag of flour. Darting over to the refrigerator, I spotted a bag of frozen meatballs, before rechecking for sauce.

Surely I could muster dinner for two?

 

***

 

December 29, 2023: 

 

Michael always insisted that I allowed him to make dinner. I knew that I wasn't exactly the best chef in the world, but surely I was not this bad?

Poor Mary—what a saint—was far too polite to broach the utterly awful, gummy nature of the noodles. The meatballs were still cold when bitten into.

Decades of eating disorders were coming back to bite me in the ass, yet again.

“I can't have you eating this shit,” I sighed, withdrawing the plate I had only just sat in front of Mary a moment earlier. The poor girl made a small show of pulling the plate back out of the kindness of her own heart, but I knew better and pulled a little harder to retrieve the plate. The girl dutifully surrendered the plate at my insistence. 

After dumping the mangled meal into the trash, I turned to Mary and put on my best smile, “There's a great little local pizza place near here, I'll order us something.”

The poor girl didn't argue.

After three minutes of fighting with a testy mobile site to place my order—was it healthy for a pregnant woman to eat pizza?—I placed my phone face down and decided to fill the awkward silence with the reason that I had come here: to get to know my little sibling's mother better.

It was still a surreal, disorienting experience. Suddenly, I was right back where I was twenty days earlier: feeling like a teenager teaching teenagers.

“So, Mary! Have you lived in Washington long? Born here?”

“Born here, yeah?” The poor pajama-wearing girl nodded, fidgeting in her seat at the dining table. “North Bend, actually.”

“Woah, the place they shot Twin Peaks?”

Mary's blue eyes came alive at that, “Oh, yes! You've seen it?”

“Only about twenty times! I adore Lynch's work!”

“Oh, wow?!”

“What did you think that I—oh, it’s the whole pink Barbie thing, isn't it?”

“I mean, I know that it isn't fair to judge a book on its covers, but—I'm sorry, I sound like a rube.”

“I get it, really. I just like looking this way,” it was one of the few things that made me feel alive, “Beth showed me Legally Blonde a ton as a kid.”

“That must have been, uh, I don't know? Confusing?”

Furrowing my brow, I tried to piece together a memory, “I…” me, in that dorky pink princess dress, begging Beth and Megumi to let me watch girl movies with them, “...I, how do I say this, I knew, I think?”

Mary blinked, holding out for elaboration.

“I…I didn't know what being trans was, but I knew that I was a girl, if that makes sense?”

Mary shrugged in that way that cisgender people shrugged when they were trying to be polite to a trans woman.

“I—basically? I hated not being able to be me, full time.”

Mozart’s Don Giovanni, K.527: Overture screamed over a series of black and white photographs shuttering through my mind. From what little I could make out from the flickering images, Beth and Megumi were trying to force me out of my dress before Mom or Dad could find me. Dozens of times.

Arthur Woods tearing the dress from my body and beating me bloody and purple followed as a series of crude crayon drawings.

I spared Mary the knowledge of those events.

“That sounds rough, Candace. Not being able to be who you want to be? Who you really are? I'm twenty-one and I still don't know who I am. I see you and—god, I'm jealous of how put-together you are.”

I almost wanted to laugh, “Tens of thousands of dollars in debt will go a long way to making you look put together, but honestly? It's still a struggle, everyday. I have so much now—Michael, my students, this incredible body and—I feel like I'm struggling to keep it together.”

Mary took a beat to soak it all in. Finally, “I think that I'm still jealous of you, though.”

“I mean, hey, after all this, I'm sure you could figure out what you want to do with your life, besides being a mother. God knows doors will just burst right open for you with breasts like those.”

Mary blushed deeply, “Oh, gosh, I'm—yes, I suppose so.”

“Uh, unless you want them removed, I mean?!” I had really stepped in it, now.

“N-no, I mean—I think that I'll keep them,” lifting the line of her sight just a little, the bashful woman blushed even redder.

Following her line of sight, I realized what she was looking at, “Oh…”

“I don't mean anything weird about it, Candace. It’s just, you wear them so confidently that I—I don't want to think of a woman's body like there's any one right way to be a woman, you know?”

Scrambling to recover, “Oh! Yes, of course, I definitely agree! I just don’t want you to feel—omigawd, I sound like a dumb bitch!”

“No, no, you're fine, Candace. I get what you mean, I think. You're afraid that they will be reminders for me, aren't you?”

It was difficult not to feel like a freak, anyway, “I mean, yeah. My dad—” a sudden pause as I collected myself “—Arthur Woods basically turned you into his own, personal blow-up doll, didn't he?”

“True, y-yes, he d-did,” I'd done it now! The pregnant woman was choking back tears!! “Still, I don't want to think of my body that way—no matter how it looks.”

“That’s stronger than me,” I half-whispered, “I knew exactly what my dad wanted for my body and I ran straight from it.”

“That’s different, Candace!” Mary adjusted her seating to take my hands in hers, “Arthur Woods wanted you in a body and gender that you hated. For me, he just wanted a whore he could fuck between meetings. Okay, maybe that's not eloquent or whatever, but what I mean is—I think that we have a lot more in common that is good and meaningful than not!”

It was heartening to see this terrified, traumatized woman coming to life before me. In the few days that I had known her, seeing her as more than just the sex victim of my father was the greatest gift our acquaintanceship had given me.

I wanted to learn more about who this woman was—and with luck, she would be learning more about who she was, too.

 

***

 

December 29, 2023: 

 

The pizza was greasy. I should have known the pizza would be greasy. A little voice in the back of my head whispered that I needed to purge the second I left the condo. 

I tried to ignore it.

“So tell me, Candace, what does a high school English teacher do for fun? Grade papers? Send students to detention?”

“The gym, mostly. I’m in pretty serious debt from, uh, you know, transitioning?”

“Ooh, yeah, I can see how that might be. Anything else?”

“Video games or just watching a streaming service with the boyfriend when we’re not running errands. He took me to a football game up in Seattle once, I think?”

“Oh god, the traffic is awful whenever there’s a game.”

“Yeah, that’s why we took the train.”

“Fair, fair. What got you interested in teaching English?”

“I feel like I’m just talking about myself here, dear, sorry—but, uh, like, I’ve always liked reading and writing, so it was a little bit of that and a little bit of wanting to put something good out there into the world, you know?”

“I’ve…gathered from all those lunches that Annabeth took me to that you two had a difficult childhood, so I have to say, I think it’s really, really cool—lovely!—that you decided to become a teacher. I dropped out when I was a junior in high school, but looking back, goodness, I wish I could just go back and do it all over again, you know?”

“Oh, I definitely get what you mean. I mean, I wouldn’t want to be stuck as a minor again, but sometimes being able to enjoy a life where I wasn’t on the edge all the time would be, you know, nice.”

Mary was surprisingly easy to talk to. It was impossible not to sense the gulf in our ages—eight  years and a near decade of different experiences had placed us in two very different places in our lives, but talking to her was a new experience that I did not know how to put into words. It was a different experience from my relationship with my students, who she was older than, anyway, and not quite like my experience with May, because—despite her being a few years my junior—she was a colleague and peer. The growing confidence in Mary’s voice as the hours passed was unmistakable and it made the entire afternoon much more rewarding—and better yet, made me look forward to a future with her in my life much more. 

It was impossible not to steal glances at Mary’s belly: it was what was bonding us together, even if it was a fact that remained unspoken. With Beth and Megumi expecting, it was nice to think that the two children would have each other to grow up with.

How the hell were we going to explain how one of them was the other’s uncle or aunt, though?

While I was lost in thought, Mary had stolen a moment to appreciatively rub her stomach. Judging by the gentleness of her wrist and the softness of her eyes, Mary was finding some degree of peace in her forthcoming motherhood.

I felt like a horrible monster for feeling such consuming and terrible jealousy of the younger woman, despite the nightmare she had to survive to get where she was now. It was hard to put into words, but as Jesus bleibet meine Freude grew to a crescendo from the background to the foreground of my mind, I felt the full extent of my envy for—

“—I never really thought I’d be in this position, you know?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Pregnant, I mean.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t know if you—if transgender women—can imagine what it’s like, but it’s this—I don’t know, feeling of things clicking into place? Well, for whatever type of woman I am, I mean. God, what type of woman am I even, besides being okay with—happy to be!!—pregnant? After I left my—after I ran away from home, I never thought I’d have a future, you know? I had never even the slightest idea of what I wanted to do with my life, outside of maybe becoming a screenwriter or something, but how the hell was I going to do that and be able to support myself? But then I learned I was pregnant, and—I don’t even know how to put it, Candace. I hate how I got here, but this child—this child is removed from that, you know?”

As my eyes watered, I took a deep breath in, suffering the sound of mucus in my nose. Mary and I shared a simultaneous giggle.

“Given how I plan to be a part of their life—if you let me, I mean—yeah, I do,” taking Mary’s hands—which she graciously let poke out from the blanket wrapped around her—I squeezed her hands—so rough for their young age—and leaned slightly towards her as we sat on the couch, “I wouldn’t want them—I wouldn’t want to think of this child as some sort of reminder of my father. He’s a horrible man, and when Annabeth manages to get the two of you safely away from him, I just want you to know that we’ll all be here to make sure you don’t ever need to think about him again. When you walked into that funeral hall, you didn’t just escape Arthur Woods, you gained an entire family, I promise you that.”

Tightening her grip on my hands, Mary sobbed openly and loudly.

And this time, I had made the pregnant woman weep for the right reason.

 

***

 

December 31, 2023: 

 

“Did you remember the gift?”

“You mean the very expensive wine you bought?”

“Yes, that.”

“I remembered it, Candace. It’s in the bag on the floor behind my seat.”

“Okay, okay, good—you don’t think it’s too much, do you?”

“I mean, it’s your money.”

“No, no, I mean, like, bringing $300 wine to their house—omigawd, Beth isn’t going to be able to drink any of it, is she?!”

“Probably not.”

“Shit, fuck, I hope it’s—well, nobody’s going to look at me weird for not bringing something a pregnant woman can drink, right?”

“Something tells me Megumi’s probably already thought of an alternative.”

“Okay, okay, good! So, like, we’ll just not make a big deal out of it when we get there—oh my fucking gawd, it’s not going to get ruined from rolling around on the floor, is it—?”

“—You don’t have to worry, I put it in a—and there you go, reaching back to grab it. Everyone’s going to be just fine, Candace.”

“Okay, okay, right, yeah, you’re right, Mikey. Sorry, sorry, I’m just nerv—you don’t think I’m showing too much titty, do you?”

“You’re asking the wrong man about you showin’ too much titty, bimbo.”

“Ugh, you meathead! Get your mind out of the gutter!! But seriously, Annabeth said not to show her up and—oh my god, my tits are bigger than hers, I’m automatically showing her up!!”

“Is this the sort of thing sisters worry about?”

“I wouldn’t know!”

“Bold of you to assume I’m not dating a woman.”

“Ugh, stop trying to be so damned charming all the time!”

“No.”

“Argh!! Michael, how am I supposed to have a panic attack if you’re always being so great to me?”

“How, indeed.”

“Fucking-A, Michael!”

“You want me to fuck your ass? At least wait until we get home, sheesh!!”

“Argh!! Whatever!!”

“Are you doing okay?”

“No.”

“Oh, she tells the truth today! Why not?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you sure?”

“Kinda.”

“Candace?”

“Yes, Daddy?”

“Don’t try to turn me on while I’m driving—also, why are you not feeling well?”

“I—I am, I am, it’s just—I don’t know,” a prolonged sigh escaped me, “I’m just jealous, I guess?”

“Of the girls?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’m glad you finally said it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Not to condescend, dear, but I do have to read people for a living.”

“We both do!”

“Precisely. Now, riddle me this, why is a woman jealous on the day of her older sister’s wedding?”

“Because she should’ve been—actually, no, Beth and Megumi should’ve gotten married over ten years ago, anyway, when Washington legalized same-sex marriage.”

“Candace.”

“Okay, okay, fine, I want to marry you! There, you happy?”

“Always, when it’s your voice I’m hearing.”

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck all the way off, Coach Summers.”

“Kinky—but don’t change the subject. Do you want to get married—whoops, almost ran a stop sign—where was I? Oh, right! Do you want to get married while we’re at their house, too?”

“And steal their thunder?”

“We can pretend that I came up with the idea on the spot and you had no idea. How’s that sound?”

“I don’t wanna get married during the winter, though!”

“With the way you’ve been hitting the tanning beds the past two weeks, I shouldn’t be surprised.” 

“Besides! It’s their day! And on their anniversary, who’s going to watch the kids if it’s also our anniversary?”

“You’ve put some thought into this, I see?”

“A little,” I lied. I had fantasized about watching the kids on all of Beth and Megumi's anniversaries until they were all grown up. Each year as they grew up, the fantasies looked a little different. One year, when the new baby would be six or seven, we’d take them to one of those indoor amusement parks with the big ball pits and stuff. To dream of such mundane adventures was my right, as the Cool Bisexual Aunt, was it not?

“Okay, then. When would you like to get married?”

“What kind of proposal is that?! You’re not even down on one knee!!”

“I’m driving—and this isn’t dodgeball, so don’t dodge the question: when would you like to get married?”

“Ugh, you big bastard. I don’t know—actually, I mean—like you said, tan, right?”

“Huh?”

“Let’s do it this June, before I go in for bottom surgery.”

“June Bride, eh?”

“I mean, yeah, I think the myth goes that we gotta do it between the first and the twentieth, right?”

“Don’t get superstitious on me now, Queen. The last day of school this year is June 19.”

“Down to the wire?”

“Down to the wire—really down. You sure you want to do it on the twentieth, then?”

“Yeah, let’s do it. We can start looking into details tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Omigawd, Annabeth is going to be SO mad that I’m going to have a wedding-wedding and she isn’t!”

“Good grief, don’t make everything a competition.”

“‘Fraid that ain’t possible, Summers. You’re marrying a Woods girl.”

“Yeah, a Woods girl who doesn’t have the inheritance money to pay for A Very Big Wedding.”

“Damn, maybe I don’t need hormones or bottom surgery to kill my boners for good, hearing you speak.”

“Whore moans.”

I laughed myself to tears for the rest of the ride to Beth and Megumi's house.

 

***

 

December 31, 2023: 

 

With a gay little ring of the doorbell, Michael and I were greeted by little Hinata, ever so bashful, in a lavender dress. That she had not had a haircut in quite some time was playing into her recent coming out quite well.

“Omigawsh, hello there, sweetie!” It was automatic, like a reflex learned from somewhere and somewhen I knew not, “That dress looks so cute on you!”

Hinata replied first with a blush and a little wiggle as she held onto the door handle before saying, “Thank you, Aunt Candi,” in a soft voice, as if she was in no way sure what she was supposed to say.

“Of course, girly,” who was this woman with golden locks that so easily and lovingly hugged her niece as if she had a lifetime of experience being maternal in the way that women were expected to be?

Breaking the hug so that Hinata could let us inside, I took Michael's hand in mine and squeezed it for strength. A soreness in my chest ached, like when one has a bruise somewhere that one does not remember hitting. 

It had snowed that morning and my bones ached from the chill, just like my heart.

Annabeth and Megumi's house had fewer people in it than a week ago, but still seemed bustling with energy. The Johnson Family—Rose, who I assumed was being shoulder rubbed for stress relief by her wife, Jessica, and little Alyssa—aided two people that I had not seen in nearly fifteen years in decorating the place: Lisa and Jim Burmen.

Megumi's fifty-something parents were just as packed full of joy as I remembered them. Bouncing around the living room, rearranging furniture and decorations as steadfastly as possible, it was uplifting to see their exuberance for their daughter's big day. 

An awful part of me wondered if Lisa and Jim assumed that their daughter would never get married, let alone give them grandchildren.

And here she was, giving them two!

“Well, who's this you found, Hinata?” Lisa asked, approaching slowly as she juggled talking to Hinata and processing the fact that she was laying eyes on a woman most would describe as ‘pornographic’.

“This is Aunt Candi and Uncle Michael, Grandma,” Hinata's voice was so matter-of-fact about it that I felt a resounding pang through my heart. I was glad that she was anything but withdrawn after my embarrassing breakdown at the zoo the other day. To hear the triumphant smile of a child in the tone of her voice churned in me like a quiet whisper of jealousy—Annabeth and Megumi were so, so lucky.

Lisa and Jim both stopped mid-walk and mid-hanging a decoration, eyes bulging. Jim—neck at an awkward angle—whispered something I could not quite discern.

“Oh, my lord,” Lisa looked amazing for her age, although it was a bit awkward being gawked at while she wore such an unguarded look of shock.

“Uh, hi, yes, we've met before,” with my nerves running wild, I brushed down and straightened out my already very flawless pink Bride’s Maid dress, “I've changed a little bit since we last saw one another. I'm Annabeth’s…sister.”

Poor Lisa cleared her throat and nervously played with the dark ponytail she kept over her left shoulder, “Oh, umm, yes, Megumi told us you were—but, well, she didn't tell us you were a—”

“—Adult Performer!” Jim finished, shamelessly saying the quiet part out loud. 

“James!” The scandalized woman admonished her husband in a tone that sounded like it was not her first time doing so. It was funny how just saying someone's name a certain way could imply so many different meanings.

Returning to hanging a party decoration of some sort, Jim turned up the flamboyant sass, “Hey, you thought it too, girlfriend!”

“I'm actually a high school English teacher—only a high school English teacher.”

“Oh, right, of course, dear!” It was nice to know the issue wasn't that I was a woman now, but rather that I was ‘apparently’ a porn actress?

Lisa's lingering glances did little to convince me that she was opposed to the idea of me making money in that field, though. 

“What’s an ‘adult performer’?”

Every eye in the room locked in on Hinata immediately, “Ask when you're older, sweetie” I giggled nervously, scooting the girl off to go play with Alyssa.

Neither Megumi nor my dear elder sister were to be found, so I joined Lisa in hanging tasteful decorations while Michael helped Jim finish moving a couch.

“So, uh, how have things been for you, Candace?”

The nervousness that Lisa spoke with straddled an important line between being awkward for me and being kind of cute. I suspect that if her attraction wasn't so apparent, it would have been the former. Pinning my end of the string to the wall, I replied tactfully: “Oh, not much has changed since we last saw one another.” A little shake of my chest sent the older woman blushing.

“Oh, I, uh, I mean—I see…”

“Lisa, I was joking,” it was so surreal—and intoxicating—having this kind of influence over someone older than me, “I've been through a lot. I don't know how I'm still in one piece.”

“Even got some new pieces, yeah?” Jim shouted from across the room.

Megumi’s mother threw an unopened bag of rose petals at the man she called her husband, smacking him right in his freshly shaven head. It was a good look, paired with that salt-and-pepper beard of his.

“Technically true,” I whispered to Lisa, just to give her the benefit of a giggle between girls while not rewarding Jim's bad behavior.

“You realize that I am her boyfriend, right?” I could hear Michael reminding Jim in the distance. 

“Aah, right, yeah…” Mr. Burmen got the message loud-and-queer, in the face of the insurmountable mountain. 

“Speaking of which, where are the ladies of the hour?” I asked Lisa as we finished hanging the decoration.

“Megumi’s in Hinata’s room and your sister should be in their room, I believe?”

“Not seeing the bride before the wedding? How traditional.”

“It’s probably the most traditional thing that’s going to happen today,” Lisa’s laugh was infectious, “Lest you can think of any other way to rusticate the place up.”

A tiny cluster, deep in the back of my mind, had been formulating insanity ever since I had learned of the girls’ impending nuptials, “Oh, I’m sure I can think of something. Excuse me while I go bug my sister?”

“I should probably go and check on Megumi, myself.”

Taking one last look at the living room as it was coming together, I could not help but smile. It was a moment where I could finally forget myself. 

My sister was getting married.

 

***

 

December 31, 2023: 

 

After parting ways with Lisa, I slipped away into the depths of the house to find the master bedroom and delivered a gay little knock to disturb my sister in her hour of truth, “Knock-knock, bitch. Guess who?”

“An annoying little faggot trying to steal one of my dresses again?”

“I have no such memories,” I scolded, slipping into the master bedroom to find Beth painting herself not as a whore—that was my role—but as a woman of grace and beauty about to embark on the happiest day of her life.

“Nice makeup job.”

“Thanks, Candace. How’s everything going out there?”

“Between Mister and Missus Burmen thinking that I do porn for a living? Not bad.”

“You do realize how heavy you go on the eye shadow, don’t you? You’ve got a permanently vacant stare!”

“What, not going to judge me for all the cleavage I’m showing off instead? Besides, ‘permanently vacant’ describes my cold, black, transgender heart.”

“Women can have ridiculously large and fake-looking breasts, as a little treat. Now, help me zip up my dress?”

“Megumi must send you so many memes,” I rolled my eyes, sashaying over to my sister and patting the back of her dress in search of a zipper. It was a beautiful thing for something picked up at the last minute, “Did Megumi see this thing yet?”

“Yes, we shopped together. Very progressive of us, don’t you think, little sister?”

“Positively. Now, how the fuck does this—oh, there’s the zipper! Anyway, how’re you doing, elder sister?”

“Don’t call me ‘elder’, it makes me sound old.”

“That’s what it means, bimbo. Don’t change the subject, how go-eth your day-eth, Annabeth?”

“I’m nervous as hell, what do you think?”

“Apt. Why are you nervous?”

“What does it matter, it’s my wedding day, of course I’m nervous!”

“Because talking things through helps, bimbo. Now, why are we nervous?”

“Because I still worry that Megumi’s going to—I don’t even know why she agreed to marry me. I’ve been so horrible to her, for so, so long.”

“I imagine it has to do with the whole ‘being in love with you’ thing, Annabeth. Shot in the dark, I know.”

“Oh hush, you! But seriously, I don’t—she deserves better than me!”

“She deserves the woman she’s been in love with for twenty years, Beth. And God help me, so do you.”

“Don’t—ugh, shut up. You’re one to talk.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. Michael and I are working on it.”

“You are?”

“He wanted to pretend to pop the question after you two said your ‘I dos’ and marry me right here and now.”

“Wait, are you?”

“Don’t get too chipper on me now, Beth. No, we’re not getting married today—not least of all because it’s your two’s special day.”

“Candace, that’s so kind of you…” The vulnerability in her voice was so real, it made my heart ache a little to process it.

“It’s easier to watch the kids for your anniversary when it doesn’t coincide with mine. Besides, I want to get married in the summer.”

“Don’t you have surgery coming up?”

“Guess what we’re doing the day before?”

“Oh my gawd, Candace! How are you going to be able to celebrate?”

“No wedding cake until after the post-wedding pussy, apparently.”

“I guess you’ll be losing your virginity on your honeymoon, just like a good Christian girl ought to.”

“Hardy-har-har. Okay, I got this fucking zipper up. Now what?”

“I stand and spin around, duh.”

“‘Dress go spinny’ applies even to the cisgender among us?”

“Is that some Old English that you only learn if you’re an English major?”

“No, it’s a lame trans meme, ask your wife about it, jeez! Damn, that dress looks good on you!”

“Oh gosh, don’t make me laugh, I’m trying to not burst out of this thing.”

“Pish-posh, you look fabulous. At least you didn’t wait until you were showing a ton, right?”

“True, yes. I suppose it would have made the wedding photos a little more interesting.”

“‘And this is Mommy and Mama and you—when you were inside Mommy's tummy—on their wedding day! Just ignore your ten year old sister who is also Mommy and Mama’s love child standing between them! They were supposed to get married about the time your onee-chan was born, but Mommy was being stubborn!’”

“Don’t be a bitch, Candace.”

“Sorry.”

“Still, I’m glad that you’re here. This wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Having you back in my life—I mean, I don’t know if I could do this right now if it wasn’t for knowing that you’d be here, with me. Even if—when—Hinata came out, I don’t know if I would have been able to just let myself have this, you know? Especially after Mom—”

“—I don’t know about that, but…well…thank you. I never thought I would be here with you all again, either. After what happened six years ago, I had planned on starting over, fresh.”

“And yet, here you are, back where you started.”

“Yeah, in a lot of ways, yeah.” The mood was quieter, now. Suddenly, my insane proposal seemed less quirky and more selfish and disgusting.

Nevertheless, I asked anyway: “Beth, can I—”

“—will you be by my side, Candace?”

“Huh?”

“My Maid of Honor, you know? With Mother—I mean, to be fair, you’ve wanted to be my Maid of Honor since we were kids, it really is the only thing that makes sense.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, you talked about it all the time—especially after you learned that Megumi and I were dating.”

“I…don’t remember…?”

“I can tell.”

“Beth, please—I’m sorry, I just—”

“—just say yes, Candace. It makes sense and—honestly? It’s what I want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Candace?”

“Yes?”

“You’re literally wearing the type of dress a Maid of Honor would wear.”

Looking down, I reminded myself of what I was wearing: “Oh.”

A knock at the door disrupted us, “Megumi’s ready, ladies.” It was Rose, judging by the voice.

“We’ll be out in a moment!” Beth shot back.

I could hear footsteps walking away from the door.

So many people had come together to make today possible. It was almost overwhelming to think about all of the little decisions that we had made on the paths that we had all taken to get here. Life was so infinite and yet so oppressive at the same time that I wanted to believe that it was possible to find happiness.

Watching my sister steel her nerves before walking out into the hallway, I double-checked my makeup in her vanity mirror and followed Annabeth to face the decades she had been running from.

Hopefully, I would learn how to face my decades, too.

 

***

 

December 31, 2023:

 

It is tradition that the bride is to be walked down the aisle by their father or father-figure. There’s an undeniable misogynistic quality to the practice, but humans are not so perfect that there is not some desire for a little generic gender roleplaying. My dearest sister, Annabeth, had nobody to give her away, so it was quite a sight to see a brilliant, feminine type like her playing the role of the ‘groom’ in that sense. Did that make me the Best Man? The thought was nauseating, so I quickly abandoned it in favor of a framing that did not require the idea of me in a tuxedo. 

As Jim Burmen walked his only daughter down the makeshift aisle, I watched my sister’s back as the dainty thing straightened and her breath caught in her chest. Megumi looked stunning in her gown, an unmatched, cleanly washed white that could have blinded the sun itself. The look of joy on my old friend’s face was almost a foreign concept to me, but then—catching sight of Michael’s barely restrained look of pride as he watched me standing beside my sister—I recognized within myself the capacity for joy.

The strings of Johann Pachelbel’s Canon rang out from my very soul, drowning out much of the world surrounding me. It was the eternal theme of my soul, returning to the forefront of my mind any time the occasion called for my abject torture. 

Lisa, gripping little Hinata’s hand, sat in her seat and watched with baited breath as her daughter took her place before her love. Hinata looked like she had no idea what she was supposed to be feeling, but shades of a smile shone in between the passing seconds.

Finally, the two brides stood before their marriage officiant: their dear shared friend, Rose Johnson. Rose’s wife, Jessica, played the role of my counterpart on Megumi’s side. The woman wore her dark hair right down her back, a thickness and fullness that seemed like it would never fade. There was a look of contentment to her that made me wonder just how close Jessica was to Annabeth and Megumi. I had never met any of Beth's friends, other than Megumi, so to think that she had had two other queer friends in high school set my imagination wild with the possible stories of their friendship growing up queer throughout the 2000s.

So much for being the only transgender Maid of Honor in the house, though! 

“We’ve gathered here today to celebrate with Annabeth and Megumi the first day of their new journey together. Although for some of us, I suppose it’s a long time coming!” Rose drew the first blood of laughter, getting every adult in the room to make a little noise.

Rose followed the usual script and with it the room fell quiet as attention shifted to both of the women.

Holding Beth’s hands in hers, Megumi took the lead, “Beth, I need to thank you.”

“For what? All I’ve ever done is—”

“—make my life a real journey, is what.”

More laughter from the room.

“Annabeth, since the day we met, I’ve felt normal in ways that I never thought I would be able to. I realized that I was a girl when I wasn’t even a teenager yet! When I switched schools and had to start life all over again, you gave me a sense of balance to my life that I was scared would always be in the throes of chaos. Things were not easy for people like me in 2003, but you—life with you—even after you found out—was idyllic. Those halcyon days with you—and a certain little troublemaker—gave me the strength that I needed to survive any and everything life threw at me. I love you, Annabeth Woods, and that love has led me to exactly where I always knew I would be: by your side.” 

There wasn’t a dry eye in the house. Shooting my eyes to Michael, I felt a profound string of sadness tying us together. With his eyes red and puffy—always wearing his emotions on his sleeve—I was reminded of all the little ways I had always felt just like Megumi did, but for Michael. He was my rock, in ways I would never be able to repay. 

The idea that I could never give him enough back tore me to shreds on the inside.

“Megumi, I—” the sound of Beth’s blubbering was only steadied by Megumi leaning her forehead down and against hers. “Megumi Burmen, I don’t deserve you. I never have. All I’ve ever done is harm you and run away from how I felt about you. When we first met, I was scared.” A beat passed, one could hear heart beats without a stethoscope, “I was scared, because I felt something that I knew girls weren’t supposed to feel for other girls. Even after I learned about what kind of girl you were, it didn’t change anything for me. I mean, I was scared—for you, for us—but…I was scared, because I knew that I could never outrun this feeling. I can be a real mean bitch, Megumi. You knew that better than anyone, it was how we first bonded. But then…the more I got to know you, the more I got to know myself. I was somebody underneath all the immaturity and the abuse and neglect—and then, when I left you like I did—I was just…lost and scared, Megumi. I was scared that I would just become my father or my mother and ruin the best part of waking up every day. Except, I did, because I hurt you and I left you and that hurt me in ways I didn’t expect it to. But you keep coming back into my life, you keep being by my side and I know that I don’t deserve any of that, but—goddamn it—I love you, Megumi. I want to keep loving you and never deny that until the day I die,” a quick glance to Hinata, “Which is definitely not going to be until we’re old and gray and our children are fully grown!!”

The little dip in her head as she giggled was all I needed to know to know that Beth was overcome with a joy she never expected to feel. Through the tears and the snot, Megumi giggled back, her forehead back down, pressed against my sister’s forehead as they basked so freely in the presence of others.

“I love you, Bethy.”

“I love you, too, Megumi.”   

Rose Johnson grinned with the utmost glee as she uttered the words that sealed the deal: “To hell with the usual script! By the power invested in me by the State of Washington, you may now kiss the bride!”

Awkward as it was to watch one's sister kiss someone else—especially when serving as her Maid of Honor, instead of just sitting in the audience—I adjusted my line of sight just enough to not noticeably look away as Annabeth and Megumi—rocking beautiful white wedding gowns—did The Thing.

The audience of nine—Tabby, Jace, Clive, Kate, Michael, Alyssa, Mary, Jim and Lisa—clapped with as much gusto as they could to fill the living room with applause to match a full wedding.

As Annabeth turned and hugged me—tears of joy exploding forth through her eyes—whatever genuine joy I had for her leapt forth from my subconscious as I squeezed her back as hard as I could.

Annabeth had no father to give her away and no mother to impart wisdom to her. She had only me, and as damaged as I was, I wanted to do my best, for her.

I hated myself so much—for reasons I could not even piece into a coherent thought. Despite all the little voices in my mind telling me what a horrible monster I was, I could not stop myself from allowing my heart to admit just how much being able to be Annabeth's sister made this moment all the more worth it.

It was a terrible mix of feelings, a mix I suspected only grew more apparent the older one grew. Nevertheless, I hugged my sister tighter and tighter amidst the chorus of joy and let my fears slip from my grasp for just a moment, “Congratulations, Sis. Repay the favor next year, yeah?”

Pulling her head back, Annabeth looked me in the eyes with an amazing twinkle, and dove back in for another hug.

Sometimes, a happy event could just be a happy event.

 

***

 

January 01, 2023: 

 

Annabeth's condo was a wreck: there had been an obvious struggle. 

“Mary?!” My sister yelled, a panic in her voice just like the panic in her step as she sped through each room of the condo, leaving myself, Megumi and Michael in the living room.

There was no stopping myself from mumbling: “Omigawd…oh no…oh fuck…he didn’t?!”

I swiftly joined the others in canvassing for clues.

Nothing came up. 

The next thing I remembered, I was shivering in Michael's embrace. Annabeth and Megumi were talking to 911 over the phone.

I had no proof, but there was only one clear answer: my father had found Mary and kidnapped her. He was going to steal the baby and make him in his image.

My legs gave out beneath me as I shrieked uncontrollably, causing Michael to have to pull me up into a princess hold.

“Candace?! Candace, are you okay?”

As Michael screamed my name, the colors of the world became a devastating black-and-white. The seductive voice of the woman who had whispered in my ear all those sweet, alluring things was no longer her own, but mine. No longer were there two Candace Queens—there was but one and always had been. I could lie to myself no more, I could run from myself no more. My name was Candace Queen, and I was a—

 

TO BE CONTINUED…