My hot tears streamed down my chilled cheeks. Not even the late fall cold could cool the burning hurt within that spilled out from me.

Disclaimer: This is fiction. All the characters and events portrayed here are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely accidental and unintentional. I as the author reserves all rights. Hey Everyone I did get this finished but at the last minute. I'm afraid that is pretty much unedited or proofread, but here it is! Happy Thanksgiving Enjoy!

My hot tears streamed down my chilled cheeks. Not even the late fall cold could cool the burning hurt within that spilled out from me. The thick cover of fallen leaves rustled underfoot stole the sounds of my footfalls as I blindly stumbled along.

I hadn’t meant for my emotions to go running away with me, but everything was just going so wrong. I didn’t know what to do and everything I did turned out so horrible they only made things worse.

Every Thanksgiving my family makes the trip to the country to our grandparents. A real oddity these days, but both sets, maternal and fraternal, lived right next to each other. That was how my mom and dad met. You know the whole childhood sweethearts thing.

Okay, maybe not as next door as most people think of it, because they were really in the country. There was a mile or more between their homes and my two brothers and I was often told of how mom and dad was running back and forth between them. They use to be farms, but as my grandparents got older, they rented out the fields to others.

Long time friends and neighbors, my grandparents traded off which of their homes would host for the holidays. When Grandma Smith died, my Grandpa and Grandma Jones insisted, Grandpa Smith and the rest of the family spend the holidays with them.

It was always this huge thing with hordes of Aunts, Uncles, and all their wives, husbands and kids. The air was filled with chaos and excitement. Typically, the men folk would adjourn to the great room to watch TV, while the women would gather in the kitchen and dining room for cooking and gossiping.

Now my brothers and male cousins were as rowdy a bunch as any and worse than most. They stayed as far away from anyone who knew the word, NO, as they could, but once the Game came on would cluster around the TV with my Dad and Uncles.

None of that appealed to me so I helped with the chopping, peeling and other mindless chores in the kitchen. Minding the younger kids never bothered me so I also kept an eye on them while enjoying the fringe benefits of helping cook. There was always bowls and spatulas with cake or cookie batter dripping from them that needed a good licking before going to the sink to be washed.

This year was different. Like it or not I was ordered to the other end of the house. Already this year had been a tough one for me. I’d been caught red handed wearing some of my mom’s things, but other than wanting to die from embarrassment no one said anything. I wasn’t punished either. Well not from my parents anyways.

My brothers were entirely another story. They were the reason why I’d been discovered to start with. Any privacy with those two around was a complete impossibility, but I couldn’t help myself and took the chance anyways. In return, I was mercilessly teased which didn’t help matters at all.

The one attempt I did make to try to explain to my folks what I was feeling was another failure. Again I wasn’t punished but was told calmly that I was just going though a phase and once I matured more I would grow out of it. That was not what I wanted to hear, but I understood what it all meant. No one was going to help me and I was left to deal with my unusual desires all by myself, just absolutely peachy keen!

So I found myself sitting with my dad and the rest of the males of the family while they slowly filled the room with cigar and pipe smoke. Miserable, I curled myself into a tight ball nearest the largest draft of fresh air I could find. Although they tried to make me feel welcome, their joking and rough humor made me feel even more out of place.

Finally unable to take it anymore, I muttered something about getting some air and left heading for the old fashioned styled porch that nearly wrapped around the whole house. I’d no sooner taken a deep breath of the chilly fall air, when I spied my brothers and a gaggle of cousins hiding out around the corner no doubt doing something forbidden. Hearing their snickers, and rude laughs, I knew they’d blabbed my secret.

Unthinking my feet threw me off the steps and I landed on the hard frozen ground running. Even as I ran, their cruel laughter cut at me. Burning, my lungs begged me to stop, but I couldn’t. Somehow I had to escape the shame, hurts and my impossible wants and needs.

Unseen under the thick coverage of autumn leaves a root caught my foot and I fell sprawling onto the musty ground. Breathing hard, it seemed even colder now and the heavy overcast above drifted lower. Every tear on my face bit and stung in the chilling breeze and yet still I cried. I cried for all the desires I felt and didn’t understand. I cried for the fuzzy hair growing on my chin and my changing voice. I cried for the softness and breasts that I wasn’t growing. I cried for wrongness of it all beneath the bare trees and the whispering wind.

The terrible hot tears fell and fell, but even I couldn’t weep forever. At last I stopped, and all that was left was a numb and empty shell like feeling. The cold that I’d ignored for so long caused me to shiver as I wiped at my icy face.

Shakily, I pull myself up, looking for the way back. I found my panicked trail hidden by the carpet of soft dead leaves. Starting to feel a little frightened, I hugged myself as my breath frosted in front of me.

Not entirely sure which way to go, I began to walk. When I saw the first snowflake falling I simply stopped and stared at it. Spiraling down from the low overcastted sky more soon followed it. Falling thickly, the white veil turned my uncertainty into full blown fear.

The snow devoured the already dim light turning the dim afternoon into murky evening and I knew I was in real trouble. Wishing, I’d grabbed a jacket before my mad run, I shivered brushing off the snow from my sweater. I was afraid I was utterly and truly lost. As serious as that was, I had the silly concern over ruining everyone else’s Thanksgiving, even that of my no-good so-and-so brothers.

The frozen stuff quickly carpeted the leaves in white and my footsteps were making that crunching, squeaking sound.

“Well Hello! What are you doing out here on a night like this?” a voice said surprisingly close.

Looking around startled I saw a woman walking towards me. Relief warmed me. “It’s not night yet.” I replied trying to keep my teeth from chattering.

She unlike me was dressed for the weather with a heavy jacket with a thick sweater underneath. “What were you thinking child? You must be freezing. Your parents must be so worried. Where are they?”

“The Jones are my grandparents. We’re visiting for the Holidays,” I chattered, shivering with the cold.

Taking off her own warm coat she put it around me. “Here, I’m dressed for this. I know them. Their place isn’t far. We’ll be able to make it easy.

I did notice she started leading me in a different direction from the one I’d been heading. “Thank you,” I muttered grateful for the warmth and protection from the cold wind as I shoved my ice cold hands into the deep warm pockets. Inside one, I felt paper or something, so I carefully snuggle my hand against the warmest part of the deep pockets. I didn’t want to ruin anything, but my chilled appendages loved the cozy respite.

Guiding me by the shoulder she smiled at me through the falling snow. “I grew up in these parts and you have to keep an eye on the weather before rushing out. Now dear, let’s come on and get you home.”

It was like walking in another world, one that faded into an all consuming white. However my guide had no problems finding her way. Cheerful she pointed out animals foraging for food or some unusual plant.

Despite myself and my fears, I found that comforting. By the time the lights of my Grandparents house glowed softy in the falling snow, my mood had improved.

Part of me didn’t want this to end. Although she hadn’t said so, I thought she’d simply accepted me as me. With so much going wrong in my life, that was a priceless gift.

Thinking about how far we’d come I looked behind us, and my thoughts froze. There was only one set of tracks; just mine, only mine. Not so much as a footprint from my companion.

With the wane light and the cold, I hadn’t been able to see her face clearly but now in the light from my grandparents’ house time slowed.

It was a face of a young woman. However her eyes were much more familiar. They had a warmth and had a depth to them that spoke of wisdom. The same eyes that had for years had watched me grow up and I’d seen before if only in old photographs.

“Grandma Smith?” I whispered in complete disbelief.

She turned to me nodding with a smile.

“B-but, but you’re d-di-died.” I stuttered trying not to panic.

Carefully she nodded again as if not to startle me anymore than I was already.

“Are y-you a ghost?” I stammered out.

“I’m afraid so, dear.” Grandma said softly.

Part of me wanted to run to that light shining though the falling snow where it was warm, toasty, and without such things like ghosts. But another desired nothing more to throw myself into those arms because I’d missed her so much. From the time I’d been nothing but a baby I’d called her Nan Nan that was short for Nanny from the time she used to baby-sit me. Of all of my family she’d always reached out to me, somehow understanding even before I did that I was different.

Something broke inside of me. “Nan Nan,” I whispered feeling as brittle as the snow drifting to the ground around us. “It hurts so much.”

My grandmother simply held me. “I know dear. I know.”

Her hug somehow made my pain fade enough so I could begin to think again. “Err.. Nan Nan if you’re a ghost, how come I can touch you?” I asked.

She brushed snow from my hair. “Love hon. Don’t you know nothing is more powerful? It can do the impossible. Like tonight, when I felt you out here all alone needing me so very badly.”

A lump welled up in my throat, “Can you help me?” I could only whisper.

Nan Nan squeezed me tight. “I’ll do what I can dear, but I don’t have a magic wand that I can wave and make everything right. However I can tell you running away isn’t the answer.”

“I know.” Hiding in the warmth of her arms, I replied softy.

Lifting my chin to see into my eyes, she said, “You need to go back inside. I know your brothers are a pair of ruffians. They always have been, but your parents do love you. They just don’t want to deal with this because it is something they don’t understand.”

Hopeless tears welled up again within me despite my frozen numbness, “But what can I do?” I almost wailed.

“Hush that now. We have a secret weapon.” She smiled.

“We do?” I asked confused. “What is it?”

Her hands turned me towards where my family waited. “You’ll find out soon enough. Now back inside with you now.”

I let her push me for a few steps before I stopped. “Nan Nan I love you.” I said hugging her tight.

The gloomy reflected light glistened in her eyes. “I love you too, but now I have to go. Tell that old fool that I love him and always will.”

Slowly before my eyes she faded away into the falling snow as yet somehow I found more tears to cry anyways.

My feet had no more touched the steps before I heard my cousins bark out, “Here he is!”

Inside I saw some dressing warmly presumably to go looking for me, while others looked worried or upset. My Dad and Mom arrowed though the crowd and their stern expressions assured me I was in trouble. I knew I was in for a scolding or worse. However, with all the emotional storms I’d suffered, I just couldn‘t feel much of anything.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry anyone. Just had to get away for a little while,” I apologized as best as I could.

Snickers I knew had to come from my brothers and cousins as they waited for me to ‘get it’ came from behind me.

From across the room I saw his eyes widen with surprise, but then something passed between us I couldn’t identify, my Grandpa Smith. Like the Red Sea parting the family made way for him as he crossed the large crowded living room.

“Mark,” Grandpa Smith said to my Dad. “Might I suggest you save this for later? I’m sure everyone’s hungry and it’s past time to eat. However do you mind if I had a short talk with him while everyone is getting seated? I’m not trying to butt in. He is your son after all, but I want to talk to him.”

My Dad nodded his acceptance, as Grandpa Jones jovially herded everyone to the dinning room joking that all had better get to the table or he might not leave any food for them.

One of Grandpa Smith’s large work harden hands gently guided me away from the noisy flock of family. He wasn’t a big man, but had always been larger than life to me.

We stepped outside onto the porch daring the cold for privacy. The outside lights shone off the still heavily falling snow showing no signs of letting up.

Gently he stated more than asked. “You saw her didn’t you?”

Silently I nodded. Grandpa Smith had always seemed stern and unbreakable to me, but now there was a fragility to him that hadn’t been there before. Not since Nan Nan had died.

Sighing, the old man said softly, “I see her too sometimes. Just from the corner of my eye, standing there looking just like she did all those years ago when I married her.”

I could only nod again. My whole life I’d seen him as stern and unbreakable, but somehow the perfect match for my warm and quicksilver Nan Nan.

“How did you know?” I asked just as softy.

It had to be my imagination as his voice turned husky, because I couldn’t imagine him crying. “That jacket. That’s the one she was wearing when she died.”

I held his so much larger hand in mine willing, hoping to comfort his pain.

“It was just over a year ago that she passed.” He said. “Emma always loved this place because of the orchards and groves. She was out gathering pecans, when she had the stroke.”

His voice trailed off, but he took a deep breath. “I got help as soon as I could but it too late. I just couldn’t deal with having the clothes she’d been wearing at the house. I guess I thought if I couldn’t see them that maybe she was still out there somewhere. I threw them all away.”

Now I was confused, “How Grandpa? I was lost out there in the snow but she found me. I didn’t recognize her at first and she gave the jacket to me. She even touched me, but how could she do that if she’s a ghost?

His craggy face smiled wryly and sad. “Can’t really say. Your Grandma had a habit of doing the impossible.” The sad smile faded. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised she’s still at it even after …” His gruff voice trailed off.

I squeezed his hands as my own grief well up again. “I miss her too. She said to tell you that she loved you and always would.”

Tears tracked down his cheeks as I threw away others expectations and hugged him for all I was worth.

We stood there in the cold and silence for I don’t know how long.

Grandpa Smith sighed, “We better get inside. You’ve been out here in the chill long enough.”

I nodded but still didn’t want to face the others inside eating the feast. Shoving my cold hands back into the warm pockets my hand hit that paper again as we stepped back inside. Curious, I pulled it out finding a letter addressed to Grandpa.

Despite being back in the warmth, I found my voice frozen. I could only numbly point it towards him.

His eyes opened wide and his thick chest heaved with feelings. Shaking his rough hands took and opened it. Emotions flickered across his face as he read the message words wrote spoken across a gulf of time.

Grandpa’s iron gray head hung low as it fell from his grasp.

Well old fool here we are again. Just how many of these things have we written over the years? Seems like every time we get into a fight, one or the other is off writing a note to explain and apologize. This time is a little different since we haven’t had the argument yet, but I know it’s coming.

The old broad
Emma

Silently I passed it back to him.

He raised his head looking into my eyes. “Has it been that bad? I heard about your talk with your Dad and Mom, and how you were pretending to be a girl. I also saw how miserable you were earlier before you run off.”

I could hear the noise as everyone settling down to the table. “Yes,” I said softly. “I don’t know what to do, but I wasn’t pretending. It’s this that’s pretending.” I said as anguish colored my voice despite the love I had for my grandpa.

Like a steam engine of old he huffed and sighed. “Wouldn’t you know it that she had to have the last word even after she’s passed on. Looks like I’ve been given my marching orders. I’ll help where I can, but I hope you realize that no matter what we do it’s going to be hard on you.”

A small glimmer of hope blossomed within me. For the first time in a very long time a true smile grew on my face.

Amid shouts of hurry up from the dinning room he smiled back. “Let’s go eat Miss Jones” Grandpa said taking my borrowed jacket.

“What should we do about her jacket? Do you think she is watching us now?” Looking up I asked.

A sideways glance showed my brothers suspicious expression at my happiness as we entered.

“Under the circumstances if it doesn’t up and disappear, I think it’s a gift.” Grandpa paused and I saw brief sadness flash across his face. Then he smiled, “I know she is.”

Despite that room full of family in that moment we somehow shared something just between the two of us. Still smiling I felt like singing. “Me too, Grandpa, me too.

As we sat bowing our heads for Grandpa Jones giving the blessing, I said one of my own. One with all of my heart because of a gift, I wasn’t alone in my fight to simply be me. Amen!