Quick author note: the first few chapters got such a good response that I'm changing my posting schedule - new chapters will be posted every other week! Thanks to everyone who's read so far!

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It was ten minutes before Aspen convinced their suddenly uncooperative limbs to wobble them downstairs.

The breakup must have been written all over their face because Becks put down her phone and enfolded them in a tight hug. “Oh, Aspen. I’m so sorry.”

Aspen rested their chin on top of Becks’ head, which Becks usually hated. It was a measure of her concern that she confined her reaction to a small annoyed grunt.

“You knew this would happen, though,” Aspen mumbled miserably.

“I didn’t.”

Aspen snorted.

“I mean, I’m not surprised, but I hoped it wouldn’t go down like this and I’m really sorry he hurt you.” At Aspen’s squeeze, Becks let go and retreated to a comfortable distance for eye contact. “Also, you’re too tall.”

Aspen sighed and flopped into a kitchen chair. “Where’s Mum?”

“She went to go pick up Uncle Robert and Uncle John from the ferry terminal.”

“Mm. When’s Rachel getting in?”

Becks raised an eyebrow but played along. “Her flight got delayed. It looks like she might miss part of the visitation.”

Aspen stared at their sister blankly as they wracked their brain for more ways to deflect and came up empty.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Becks asked softly.

“Maybe? Except I honestly don’t know how I feel about it.” Aspen sighed gustily. “You know I hate my job, and that things with William weren’t great. I’ve been miserable for a long time and couldn’t deal with it because of how trapped I was. And now everything I’ve ever wanted has just been, like, handed to me on a silver platter! Free house! Dream job! No more living in a postage stamp in a city I hate! No more being shackled to a man who objectively sucks!

“Except it only happened because Aunt Marcy is dead, which is fucked.” Aspen sniffled miserably. “And not walking away from what she’s giving me cost me my relationship. And yeah, it was broken, but now I don’t even have that anymore.”

“Oh, siblet.” Becks sat down next to them and placed a hand on their shoulder. “That’s a lot, and I’m sorry. But you’re not alone.”

Aspen inhaled shakily, hating how close Becks’ kindness had them to falling apart again. “Except I sort of am? I’ll be starting over. And I don’t know anyone out here.”

Becks shrugged. “You needed a fresh start anyway. And you know that Rachel and I are only a video call away.”

“I know. And thank you. I just.” This time Aspen couldn’t prevent the tears from bubbling up. “I keep wishing I could talk to Aunt Marcy about it.”

Becks scooted closer and lay her head on their shoulder. “I know,” she sniffed. “Me too.”

Aspen had to admit that it felt much nicer to cry with Becks – who cried along with them – than it had with William.

Quite a while later, when they were both cried out, Aspen glanced at the clock and grimaced, realizing that they still looked like they’d been dragged face-down out of bed and their mum would be back shortly. “I should go get cleaned up before Mum and the uncles get here.”

“Are you sure? I’ll keep Mum off your back if you want to go back to bed.”

“No, I’m fine,” they lied.

Becks gave them a flat look that said they weren’t fooling anyone.

Aspen rolled their eyes. “Okay, I’m not, but having Mum fuss at me would be worse, and I don’t think I could deal with that right now.”

Becks nodded understandingly. “Then go, and I’ll keep her occupied until you’re ready.”

Aspen gave Becks one last quick squeeze. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“I know,” she chuckled.

✯ ✯ ✯

Despite emerging from that conversation looking like a feverish maniac, Aspen managed to erase all the obvious signs of their emotional turmoil after getting cleaned up, though they ended up with a smokier eye than intended after breaking down again halfway through applying their makeup. True to her word, Becks successfully ran interference with their mum – who Aspen could tell wanted to fuss over them as soon as she walked in the door – until it was time for them all to head to the funeral home.

After two days of preparation, it still felt decidedly surreal when the family descended en masse at the funeral home for the visitation – their aunts, uncles, and cousins (half of whom had their own partners in tow) made quite the crowd. Overwhelmed by the loud babble of multiple conversations, Aspen ducked out to the washroom not long after the initial round of too-loud greetings and hugs for a moment of quiet.

When Aspen’s conscience forced them out of hiding, they had just walked around the corner when they heard Uncle Robert ask “Rebecca” where “her brother went”. Uncle Robert’s gaze shifted, and Aspen froze as there was a moment of horrible eye contact that made retreat back to the washroom impossible.

“DAD!” The response from Megan, their oldest cousin, was almost instantaneous.

“I need Aspen’s help carrying in that big flower arrangement from the car,” someone else loudly proclaimed from the opposite corner of the room. Aspen looked to see their youngest cousin, Deanna – whom they had last seen as a long-haired sulky teenage girl, freshly rocking short blue hair, with baby queer” written over every inch of her.

“Oh, uh. Sure,” Aspen stammered. “Excuse me.”

Gratefully, they followed Deanna out to the entryway, where their cousin flopped bonelessly into one of the overstuffed armchairs closest to the entrance. “Ryan already carried it in, actually,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. “I just wanted to get you away from Uncle Robert so the cousins could yell at him without making it weirder for you.”

“Thanks, Deanna,” Aspen said weakly.

“Dee.”

Dee very clearly Did Not Want To Talk About It, a feeling Aspen could definitely understand. “Dee.”

Dee nodded, then very solemnly asked an unexpected question. “Do you want to see pictures of our new class snake?”

“Uh, of course I do. What kind of question is that?”

Dee spent the next several minutes showing Aspen pictures and telling them about how her biology teacher had agreed to adopt a corn snake from a friend moving to a place with a strict no-pets policy, only to find out that her husband was terrified of snakes - which is how he’d become a classroom snake. Dee gleefully informed Aspen that she’d won the contest to name him – Cuddles – and that she hadn’t gotten to feed him yet (frozen mice) but had gotten to hold him several times.

Afterwards, when Aspen re-entered the room, mum was with the aunts and uncles in a cluster by the coffin.

Megan came over, looking apologetic. “Sorry about Dad,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“It’s okay,” Aspen stammered.

“I mean, it’s not,” her younger brother Aiden said grimly (or was it Tyler? Aspen didn’t see them often enough to know the tricks for telling the identical twins apart). “And you shouldn’t have to say that it is.”

“We’ll keep yelling at him until he gets it right,” the other identical twin added.

“Honestly, it’s kind of embarrassing,” Megan added. “Like, our dads are gay, so he should really know better.”

Aspen laughed uncomfortably. “Thank you.”

Dee’s mother, Aunt Marg, called for her, and Dee trotted over obligingly, giving Aspen the opening they’d been hoping for.

“Pronoun check?” Aspen asked in a low voice, nodding over at their young cousin.

“Ryan says she/her?” Megan shrugged, the question adding an implied ‘for now’.

“Cool. Thanks.”

The visitation opened up to the public half an hour later, which is when things got really crazy - it seemed like half of the town filed through to offer their condolences. (Unsurprisingly, as town witch, Aunt Marcy’s absence was apparently being keenly felt.) As overwhelming as the throng of well-wishers was, it at least made it easy for Aspen to avoid their mother – who kept watching them with a worried expression when she thought they weren’t looking.

When it was finally over, Aspen was slightly horrified when their hopes of being able to have some time to themself were dashed by their mother inviting the entire family over to the rental for pizza. Upon arrival, they were immediately ambushed by Uncle Robert, whose apology for the earlier misgendering was accompanied with an uncomfortable amount of self-flagellation. As brief as it was, the conversation made Aspen want to peel off their skin, and they were beyond grateful when Becks and Rachel – who had arrived toward the end of the visitation - came to their rescue by ‘stealing’ them to go pick up pizzas. “You are a literal angel,” they muttered to Becks. “I owe you big time.”

“Belated repayment for you keeping Aunt Marg off my back about not having a boyfriend all those years,” Becks laughed.

After dinner, when the older relatives started exchanging nostalgic stories about events far before their time, Aspen used cleaning up as an excuse to duck out of the conversation, figuring they could sneak away to their room once the detritus of the meal was cleared away. However, when they went upstairs, they were surprised to see their room bustling with unexpected activity.

“Excuse me,” Ryan, Dee’s older brother, said, squeezing past them with the enormous TV from downstairs.

Right behind him were Aiden and Tyler, arms full of off-brand convenience store chips and two-liters of pop. And inside the room, Rachel and Becks were overseeing the construction of a pillow fort using what looked to be every cushion in the house.

“What’s going on here?”

Becks grinned, looking very pleased with herself. “I mean, tell me if I’m wrong and we’ll go away, but you were going to come up here and sulk by yourself, when what you really need right now is to be around people.”

Aspen blinked, then laughed sheepishly. “I feel both seen and called out. But no, you’re not wrong.”

“Of course I’m not! Now. What movie are we going to watch?”

After a minimum of bickering (Aspen called dibs on the movie choice because it was their room), they settled in to watch their favorite Ghibli movie.

“This is much nicer than sulking by yourself, is it?” Becks asked smugly during a pause in the movie.

“Shut up,” Aspen grumbled. “Or I’ll hit you with a pillow.”

Becks just laughed.

The cousins dispersed to their various accommodations after the first movie was over. Rachel and Becks bullied Aspen into their pajamas before selecting a second movie – one of Becks’ favorite nostalgia romcoms. Exhausted by the day’s emotional turmoil, Aspen fell asleep halfway through.

✯ ✯ ✯

Aspen woke up the next morning to a text novel from William that had been sent at 3:00AM his time. “Gross,” they muttered, not bothering to read it before deleting the conversation and blocking his number.

The funeral was exactly as terrible as Aspen had expected. The previous evening’s conviviality was gone, replaced by red-eyed misery from everyone in the family. In deference to Aunt Marcy’s profession, the service was ostensibly non-religious (which meant secular Christian). However, the rest of the family being Catholic (at least culturally speaking – Aspen had quit attending church when Becks came out as gay) was probably to blame for the inclusion of a violin quartet, the saddest of all musical groupings, and a heartbreakingly poignant rendition of Schubert’s Ave Maria.

Between the occasion and the music, Aspen sobbed through the entire service and looked like such a wreck afterward that they were glad that attendance had been limited by the small size of the venue. When it was over, most of the family drifted back to rental for one final evening together before traveling home.

Aspen was washing dishes in the kitchen – locals had kept showing up throughout the afternoon with food – when mum and Becks came to “help”, effectively cornering them.

“What happens next?” Becks asked as she rooted through the drawers for dish towels. “Why do rentals always put the basic stuff in weird places?”

Aspen wrinkled their nose in confusion. “Next? And I think I saw them in the drawer under the oven.”

Becks flashed a thumbs up, pulled out a towel, and started drying.

Meanwhile, their mum was scraping leftover food into cheap containers someone had picked up at the store. “Next with the big move,” she said.

Aspen sighed and bent over the dishes a bit more than necessary, letting their long hair flop in front of their face. “Fuck, I don’t know. I still have to quit my job, which means giving notice after I get back, I guess. And I don’t even know what to do about my stuff, or where to stay until then. Two weeks in a hotel would be outrageously expensive, but I don’t know anyone local that could put me up that long.”

“Fuck your job,” Becks snorted. “You don’t owe them anything.”

Surprisingly, Mum nodded in agreement even as she gave Becks a small disapproving glance for the swearing. “The notice is only if you want a good reference for your next job, which you don’t need. And it certainly sounds like they haven’t done anything to earn your loyalty.”

“Exactly. They suck. They’re not even giving you paid leave.”

“Technically there’s no such thing as mandated bereavement leave for aunts,” Aspen corrected automatically.

“Who cares? They still suck. Tell those fuckwits you quit tomorrow effective immediately and let them twist in the wind. Your boss definitely deserves it.”

“You should probably word it a bit more professionally than that,” Mum said. “But I agree with your sister.”

Aspen felt something unknot in their chest as they looked for flaws with that plan and couldn’t find any. “That… makes a lot of sense. And solves a lot of problems. But.” They scrubbed at some caked-on lasagna a bit harder than necessary. “What about William? And my stuff?”

“Not having second thoughts, are we?” Mum asked archly.

“Hardly. But.” Aspen blew out a sigh of frustration between pursed lips. “He said I ‘owed’ him an in-person ‘discussion’ about breaking up. There’s no way he won’t make a scene, or, like, force me to ‘debate’ him about my mental health.” Becks and mum exchanged a speaking glance, and Aspen resisted the urge to flick dishwater at the two of them. “You’ve been talking about me behind my back again,” they whined.

“Only because you insist on trying to solve all your problems by yourself,” Mum said, unphased by Aspen’s glare.

Becks shrugged. “Aunt Marcy’s house is fully furnished, for white Boomer values of ‘furnished’ – no offense, Mum.”

“None taken,” she said wryly.

“So you just need to get your clothes, witch stuff, and computer, yeah? Rachel and I could come out with you. Let us deal with William while you get yourself sorted.”

“Oh my god, that would be amazing,” Aspen stammered. “And Rachel’s okay with it?”

“Okay with it?” Becks laughed. “It was her idea! She wants to punch William in his stupid smug face, and I had to be the grown-up and remind her that backpfeifengesicht is not a legal defense.

Aspen pulled Becks into a hug, ignoring her protests about their wet, soapy hands. “You’re the best sister ever.”

“Meaningless in a sample size of one. I’m also your worst sister.”

Aspen relented and released her from the hug, grinning when Becks immediately retreated to stand next to their mother on the other side of the kitchen island.

“When we’re done here, I’ll buy your plane tickets back,” Mum said, continuing quickly before Aspen could speak. “It’s insurance money. So shut up and take it. Also, there’s an email from the lawyer I forwarded to you with the forms you need to register with the BC College of Witches and transfer Marcy’s practice. You should fill them out tonight so we can mail them tomorrow – we can pay for expedited processing, but it will still take thirty days to process before you can start getting paid.”

“Seems like the two of you got everything figured out.” Aspen’s eyes prickled as they remembered exactly why they were making this cross-country move in the first place. “Too bad I’m too big a screw-up to fix my own life.”

Aspen’s mother laid a gentle hand on their shoulder. “No one is an island, sweetheart.”

“Yeah,” Becks said, shooting them a look that clearly said 'don’t be any dumber than you have to be'.

Aspen forced a smile and allowed the conversation to shift to logistics but couldn’t shake the feeling that they wouldn’t have needed this much help if they hadn’t been such a failure in the first place.

✯ ✯ ✯

Angelo was furious about Aspen’s resignation and sent more than a dozen alternately begging and threatening texts before Aspen finally blocked his number, then wiped their history and personal files from the laptop before having it shipped back to HexaTech’s IT department.
Meanwhile, Mum and Becks had helped them find a reputable cross-country mover. The total cost of a last-minute Toronto-to-Vancouver Island move had given Aspen a small anxiety attack, but their anxiety was mostly alleviated when mum had shown them how much Aunt Marcy’s life insurance policy covered for final expenses and “related costs”.

Friday morning, Becks, Aspen, and Rachel flew back to Toronto.

On the plane, Becks ordered Aspen to sign into their social media on her laptop. “I’m not going to post anything embarrassing, and I’ll make sure your login isn’t saved,” she explained. “I just want to ask your friends for help since you won’t.”

Since asking for help would have required telling everyone about the complete and total upheaval of their life circumstances - the idea of which Aspen found profoundly exhausting - they did as Becks asked, and pretended not to notice when Becks closed a message from William. After a few minutes of scrolling through their friends list and identifying the Toronto friends likely to want to help – which was a depressing reminder of how few friends they had in the city – they spent the rest of the flight trying to stave off their anxiety by watching garbage 2000s romcoms.

Their heart was in their throat from the moment they touched down at Pearson, the prospect of a final in-person confrontation with William seeming both inevitable and completely overwhelming. When their rideshare pulled into a visitor spot outside of their apartment building, Aspen’s anxiety ratcheted up into full-blown panic.

“I can’t do this,” they gasped as soon as the car had pulled away, leaving the three of them on the curb with their baggage. “I thought I could see him, but I can’t. I can’t.” To their horror and embarrassment, they started gasping for air as their legs began to shake uncontrollably. “I know he’s wrong, I know I’m making the right decision. But he’ll make me feel so stupid. He always does.”

Becks took one look at their face and immediately pulled them over to sit on a concrete planter a few feet away. After a very brief whispered conference with Rachel, Becks took their keys and their unlocked phone, in case William wasn’t there and she needed to call him. “Leave it to me,” Becks said grimly.

Aspen nodded gratefully and let Rachel escort them across the street to the locally-owned coffee shop, where they got a terrible vegan muffin and a pretty decent latte. Once they had their orders, they settled down at a table in the back of the café. Aspen nibbled at the too-dry bran muffin and tried to will their legs to stop shaking. “I’m sorry for being terrible company.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Rachel said firmly. “Becks went instead of me because I wouldn’t promise not to punch him.”
Aspen chuckled at that. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, but I would like to see it,” they admitted.

Rachel scooted her chair around the small table to be closer to Aspen and started showing off pictures of Harley and Ivy, sharing the amusing anecdotes that often accompanied living with two large and very active dogs. Aspen was feeling a bit calmer when Rachel’s phone rang with a call from Becks.

She refused to give any details about her interaction with William, saying only, “he’s promised not to be there tomorrow after 9.”

✯ ✯ ✯

The next morning, they checked out of their hotel and walked over to the apartment building. Aspen was profoundly relieved not to encounter William on their way in, noting with distant amusement that Rachel looked disappointed.

The single red rose and handwritten note on the kitchen counter were still an unwelcome surprise.

Becks furiously tore the note into tiny pieces before Aspen could read it and threw both the pieces and the rose into the compost, muttering about William playing ‘fast and loose’ with what they’d agreed to.

“I mean, he is a lawyer,” Aspen said with a rueful shrug.

“You should have let me punch him,” Rachel said.

Looking around the apartment, Aspen belatedly realized their complete lack of moving supplies. “What are we going to pack things in?” they fretted.

“Taken care of,” Becks said with a grin. “Now. Show me where you keep your coffee?”

Sure enough, it wasn’t long before Tariq showed up with two stacks of moving boxes and several rolls of packing tape. Aspen was surprised how emotional they felt when Tariq dropped everything just inside the door to sweep them up in a big hug. “You traitor! I’ll never forgive you for getting out of HexaTech before I could.”

“It had nothing to do with me! I just won the millennial lottery.”

Tariq gave Aspen a final squeeze before letting go. “Is that like the regular lottery, only someone close to you has to die for you to win it?”

“Pretty much.”

“Oof. That’s a fucking mood.” Tariq said with a grimace. “Now. What all needs doing?”

Before long, Aspen’s apartment was full of people cheerfully offering hugs and whatever assistance they could provide. Many hands made for light work, especially since all the furniture and contents of the kitchen were staying behind. Of course, it also helped that their shoebox apartment strictly limited the amount of stuff they could own.

By early afternoon, all of Aspen’s belongings were neatly packed away in boxes stacked in the tiny “eating nook” (it was too tiny to deserve to be called a dining room), neatly labeled and ready for the movers to pick up the next morning.

While Rachel was taking care of ordering the traditional thank you pizzas, Becks declared that she didn’t trust William not to sabotage Aspen’s stuff and went out in the hallway to call him – ordering him not to come back until after the movers were gone.

Aspen was almost able to allow Becks' confidence that he would stay away to convince them that everything would be fine. But that night, as the three of them were settling down to sleep, Aspen reflected they were still very glad that they weren’t spending the night here alone.

✯ ✯ ✯

To Aspen’s surprise, the movers arrived precisely on time. Becks was less surprised, reminding Aspen that their mother had paid them a lot of money.

With so few boxes, packing the truck took remarkably little time. “I gotta say, I’d hire people to do stuff for me more often if I had more money,” Aspen said as the last box was carried out. “I threw my back out when we moved into this place and spent two weeks mainlining Ibuprofen.”
Removing the apartment and mailbox keys from their key ring was surreal, especially since it left the key to the house – their house – as their only key.

William was waiting with flowers on the sidewalk next to the moving van.

Aspen turned on one heel and walked back into the building lobby, leaving Rachel and Becks to chase him off.

He was gone fifteen minutes later when they came back out to do a final inspection of the truck and sign their approval.

“Please tell me you didn’t punch him,” Aspen said to Rachel, torn between the equally desirable outcomes of William getting punched and their sister-in-law not getting sued.

“I didn’t punch him,” Rachel said, her expression suspiciously gleeful.

Becks shrugged and gave them a long-suffering look.

“Oh my god. What did you do?”

“I spilled coffee on him,” Rachel said innocently. “Entirely by accident of course.”

“That’s—you spilled hot coffee on him?” Aspen sputtered in horror. “That’s assault!”

“It was iced coffee,” Becks corrected, giving her wife a disapproving glare.

Aspen wasn’t terribly reassured. “I mean, early March in Toronto… iced coffee is almost as bad.”

“I got them to remove the ice,” Rachel replied with a frightening gleam in her eye.

“Wait.” Aspen blinked several times as they attempted to process. “You went to the coffee shop, got a non-iced iced coffee, came back, and poured it on him.”

“Spilled. Accidentally.” When Aspen glared at her, Rachel shrugged unrepentently. “I might have read up on what temperature of liquids probably wouldn’t count as assault.”

“Jesus Christ.” Aspen turned their glare on their sister. “How could you let this happen?”

“I was busy yelling at William! Also.” Becks shot her wife a look of reluctant admiration. “Rachel got him right in the crotch, so you’re welcome.”

“Thanks, babe,” Rachel murmured, leaning over to give her wife a kiss.

Aspen had to admit that William getting lukewarm coffee to the crotch after his weird stalkery behavior did make them feel a bit better. It wasn’t until they all arrived back at the airport, however, that they felt the last of the bands of constriction around their chest loosen.

“I can’t ever pay you back for this,” Aspen said, giving both Rachel and Becks a teary hug.

“I know,” Becks joked, then dodged Aspen’s mimed punch.

“Sorry,” Rachel said. “She’s the worst.”

Becks’ face grew uncharacteristically serious. “Listen. I know our family is bad at feelings, but we’d do anything for you. Okay?”

Aspen laughed shakily. “Okay.”

“Keep us updated,” Rachel said fiercely. “You can call us any time.”

“I will. I promise.”

- - - -

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