Chapter 2 - we meet Jordan, the non-binary twin and learn about their life (romantic and otherwise)
——-
Jordan walked around the jobsite, looking for the electrical subcontractor. They were getting tired of this, to be honest. Every day, they’d find him placing bets on his phone while his guys were busy bullshitting or jerking off or doing anything but what they were paid to do - which was wire the fifth floor.

If they had their way, the guy and his crew would’ve been out the door three days ago, but…

“Look, Jordan,” the architect said, laughing. “I get that you want them doing their job but, if they don’t work, they don’t get paid, so they’ll do it.”

Jordan took a deep breath. You’re the low man on the pile, they thought. “Except they aren’t. Mike is always on his phone betting…”

More laughter. “And losing. All day yesterday, I heard him talking about how he’d like to kill the guy who came up with half points,” then, imitating his rasp, ‘the fucking half points, they’re fucking killing me…’

Jordan laughed, in spite of themself, “You’d think he’d wanna get paid, so he could lose some more.” None of the betting sites took credit cards. If they did, Mike’d be dead.

The architect looked at them. “Jordan,” he smiled, “I like you. Everyone likes you and we’re all impressed with your vigilance.”

They held their breath for the inevitable ‘but.’ No compliment came without one. ‘You work harder than anyone else on the team, but we’re starting Nia this week.’ ‘I like you but not that way.’ ‘If I had my way, you’d be on the crew with me, but you know how your mother feels.’ They sighed, “But?”

He smiled. “It’s a compliment.” Then, a pause, “however, you can’t pick every fight. The project will get done on time and on-budget. My rep is on the line and I’m not sacrificing it. And the electric will get done on five on-time and on-budget. Everyone knows you’re on it. You just don’t need to be so ‘on it.’”

“But he’s...”

Grinning, “See, you said but. I didn’t say but. But he’s what?”

They thought about their father. The way that he would never have let a sub pull this kind of shit. How he would have been in the guy’s face until he did the work, telling him, ‘keep this shit up and you won’t work around here again.’ On the other hand, this was a 35 story building, not a strip mall. And they were new around here. And dad told them when they started, ‘your job is to keep your eyes open and your mouth shut. When the boss wants to hear from you, he’ll ask. He didn’t ask? Take the hint.’ “But nothing. I’ll tone it down,” they tried not to grumble.

The architect looked at them. “I like you and you have a real future. Try not to have a heart attack first.”

They walked around, checking on the progress in the building and watching one of the workers frame an interior wall. They always liked framing, especially wood. There was something meditative - not that they’d say that out loud; maybe Emily could get away with talking about meditation in California, not here - about measuring, cutting and putting it up and then do it again. The repetitiveness calmed them. If they had their way, they’d be doing it now but they remembered Dwight, Dad’s foreman - ‘be the guy who showers before work, not after.’

They caught two of the guys talking in Spanish, one mumbling ‘tortillera,’ while the other one looked at him like he was crazy. Whatever, they thought. I don’t know what you said but I know that, in five years, I'll be running projects like this and you'll still be carrying buckets of nails.

------

9:00. Time to call Emily. They used to call right after work, until she pointed out that it was a three hour time difference and ‘I can’t take too many personal calls because the bitch next to me always complains.’ The problem was that Jordan was usually a couple of drinks in by the time they remembered to call, and they owed her not being shitfaced, at a minimum.

Emily picked up the phone. “Hi, this is Emily Berrigan,” she said, brightly.

“This is Jordan Nehlen,” they teased. “Is this a bad time?”

“It’s never a bad time for you. Besides, I’m stuck in traffic,” she laughed, then cursed the driver in front of her. “How’s it going?”

“It’s good, it’s good. I’ve been mad busy at work and they’re driving me crazy.”

“Who is,” followed by ‘don’t ride up the shoulder, asshole!’

They took a deep breath. They never knew what or how she would respond to anything involving construction. Not that she didn’t care and wanted to know, but they could hear it in her voice if it got too close. “Oh, every day I come in and I find my guys jerking off or whatever, and I was told not be ‘so intense.’”

A laugh. “You intense? I am flying there today to tell them...that they have no idea how intense you actually are.”

“Ha ha. Very funny.” They hadn’t seen her, not in per\son, since she was thrown out and left for California six years ago. They felt guilty but, up until this year, it just wasn’t doable. There had been that one soccer tournament in San Francisco but Emmy couldn’t make it up there. Besides, they wanted to see her without distraction. Maybe this year. “It’s just…”

A pause and they wondered what was next. “How big is this building?”

“I told you, thirty-five stories,” wondering where this was going.

“And this company does work all over the country, right?”

Dubiously, “Um, yeah. Where are you going with this, Ems?”

“So, this is a national company building a really tall building. Maybe, they know something,” upspeak at the end. They smiled to themself at the way she had become a total California girl, upspeaking and using ‘hella’ instead of ‘mad’ or ‘crazy.’

“It’s just...they...and...shut up!” They laughed.

“I didn’t say anything, Jor,” she laughed, her little trill.

“Yeah, well, anyway, what’s new?”

A pause, “I saw Uncle Rob and Aunt Jeannie.”

That knocked at least one drink out of them. “Uncle Rob? And Aunt Jeannie? As in,” and they stopped.

“Yes, them.”

“Where?” They looked at the TV, at the commercial for ‘your local Ford dealer.’ To be honest, it was time to replace the truck, it needed a new transmission and brakes and they had neither time nor the inclination to do either. But, they had restored it themselves with their father when they were 14 and it reminded them of then. Before everything.

“At work. Last Friday.”

“What were they doing at a law firm there?”

“I was covering a shift at the restaurant.” ‘Jesus, can you pay attention to your lane?’ They pictured Emmy behind the wheel, giving a finger to someone and then feeling guilty about it, the way she always did.

Jordan sighed. “I thought you said that you were done with that.”

“I am,” she responded. “Maya asked me to cover…”

They thought about their sister, the way she always wanted to please everyone, even as they didn’t give a damn about her. They remembered the parking lot at school, Emmy in tears because of what those bitches, her so-called friends, had said to her. “You don’t have to say yes to everyone, Ems.”

“She’s my friend. And Fridays mean money. That I need.”

They knew why. They had checked and insurance covered it, but they also knew that no hospital ever sent you home without some other bill. “Right. Yeah. How close?”

“Almost there,” she said brightly. They pictured her in her work clothes, the dresses they imagined she wore like she was making up for lost time.

“Anyway, Uncle Rob and Aunt Jeannie. What happened? Did it go OK?” They tensed up, thinking of how Uncle Pete and his bitch of a wife would have made a scene. How they wanted to punch them every time someone snickered and then dead named her at a holiday, not that anyone talked about her much at all anymore.

“They were amazing.”

That was not a possible answer. “Really? For real?”

“Yeah. I was like ‘ohmigosh,’” and she went off describing how ‘they called me by my name every time’ and ‘even Uncle Rob was totally cool with it,’ and they pictured her, her hair in a ponytail, like one of those cute low-maintenance girls they should go for, but never did.

They smiled, wondering if this was somehow going to get her back home, even for a visit. “Cool. That’s great, Ems. You don’t think….”

Before they could finish, Emily’s voice grew harsh. “No!” Then, an apology. “Sorry…”

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“I know,” and they pictured her sad face, her big blue eyes. “But, no, Jeannie is totally on board. We didn’t even talk about,” and a pause, “that, other than Rob being on his own and stuff.”

They felt suddenly protective towards her, their little (by five minutes) sister. They had tried to apologize once and she laughed, ‘all kids are assholes, Jor. What matters is now. Let’s not go there.’ “Cool.”

-----
Jordan was leaving work when, “Hey Jordan,” they heard one of the other project managers say, “we're going to Buckley's after work. You in?”

“Nah,” they said. “I have a softball game.” They thought about their mother, how she'd tell them, ‘go out with the people from work. It's not what you know, it's who you know.’ They had gone out with them the other day and besides there were women at the game who knew people too. “I'm in next time.”

Work ended and they went to the bathroom to change, stripping off today's khakis and button down. They looked at themself in the mirror. Grandma Linda always called them a ‘full Nehlen,’ like a slur. Except they were grateful that they had inherited that weird combination of dad's bulk and Grandma Dori’s small chest, barely a B, which on their frame looked like nothing much at all. They laughed, thinking about how Emily would kill to have a chest like Mom and Stef, even though as far as they could tell, she looked pretty good. You'd never know that she was ever anything but what she had always been.

They carefully folded their clothes and put them in the equipment bag, then took out the uniform. They put on the sports bra first, glad that it minimized what little they had, then the jersey and finally the pants, making sure to tuck everything in and that everything was straight. Their father used to say, ‘someone with a sloppy uniform is someone who doesn’t care on the field.’

They drove to the game and walked over to the field, bat bag over their shoulder. “Jordan,” they heard Veronica shout.

“Hey, Ronnie.” They had met Ronnie when they first moved to Indianapolis. Ronnie had been dating someone Jordan knew from college. That relationship failed spectacularly, with dueling restraining orders, but she and they had remained friends. “What’s up?” Ronnie, to test them, threw a ball at them, which she caught barehanded.

“You always have fast reflexes. Not as fast as mine but fast,” Ronnie grinned. “Kayla can’t make it today. Work shit.”

“Fuck,” Jordan groaned. “What are we going to do for a third baseman?”

Ronnie looked at her. “You.” Normally, Jordan played second, turning a double play and nailing the runner at home being their two favorite things.

“Ah, come on…”

“Ah, come on nothing. OK,” other Kayla, so named since she was the second one to join, “can cover second but she doesn’t have your arm for third.”

Jordan looked at her, and laughed. “If you’re trying to get me into bed, ain’t happening.”

Ronnie looked at them. “If I get to the point where I’m fucking your ass, and make no mistake it would be me fucking you, just shoot me.”

A running joke. “I won’t. Know why? Because I’ll have shot myself first, superdyke.” When they called each other that, Kayla the first would lose her shit, bitching about solidarity or something. Jordan looked over at the other team, at a girl, brown ponytail and a killer ass stretching. They looked at Ronnie and tilted their head.

“Nice,” was all Ronnie offered. “You want her? I won’t block.”

“We sure…” Jordan had their fill of experimenters in college, girls testing the waters before marrying some investment banker. Whatever, they’d think, just know that you got my sloppy seconds.

“I saw her at Henry’s,” one of the last remaining lesbian bars in the city. Jordan figured that they were supposed to be happy that they could be public, but they wouldn’t mind more places where straight boys and girls weren’t staring at them when they kissed someone.

“Cool,” they said, staring while the girl sat down and did stretches.

A ball rolled towards Jordan, and they rolled it up onto their foot, then started juggling it. They missed the thrill of playing in college, the cheers of the crowd. Well, the 1000 or so people that showed up at most games. They were doing tricks, juggling it higher and higher when the girl looked at them and winked, causing them to drop it.

The game began, Jordan crouched, hands on knees. They hated playing third. They had played second since middle school, liking the way that you had to go either way when the ball was hit, depending on the situation. Third, you went to your left. That was it.

--

Fourth inning, one out, runner on third. The batter hit a line drive to Jordan’s left. They backhanded it, touched the base before the runner could get back and threw out the runner at first by two steps. “Now, that’s a lesbian league play,” someone said, to everyone’s laughter. ‘Lesbian league’ having been adopted as a term of praise a couple of games ago, after some meatheads on a field next to theirs had used in a manner that they couldn’t decide was insulting or not. They flicked the ball to the ump and jogged off, to see the girl from before smiling at them.

The game ended, Jordan’s team having won. Both teams were around the cooler when the girl came over. “Hi.”

Jordan’s eyes walked up and down her. “Hi, I’m Jordan. You want a beer?”

“Kira,” and she stuck out her hand, Jordan enveloping her soft skin with theirs, suddenly aware of the callouses they had developed over the years. “Do they have White Claw in there?” Jordan smiled. Of course, she wanted a White Claw. Girls like her didn’t drink beer, not that they minded.

Kira took the White Claw, “That was an incredible play in the fourth.”

Jordan smiled and ran their hand through their buzz cut, aware that Kira was watching their every move. “Thanks. I was impressed with how you ran out that single in the sixth.”

Kira laughed. They would’ve said it sounded like birds chirping, except that they could hear her old teammates laughing their asses off at that, making fun of their fondness for femme girls. “Sure. I watched you with the softball before. Do you play soccer?”

“Yup. Well, I did. Four-year starter at Purdue at center midfielder. What about you?”

“I’m a senior at Butler. I’m majoring in economics, with a minor in theater.” She ran her hand through her hair and Jordan watched her shirt ride up ever so slightly, showing just a little strip of stomach, flat and pale.

“That’s quite a combination. Do you plan to tell people the marginal cost of Shakespeare?”

Kira smiled. “Well, that’s the first time I’ve heard that particular one. What about you?”

“I’m a construction manager. I’m working on a new building on Washington.”

Kira smiled and looked her up and down. “That sounds interesting. How did you get into that?”

Jordan smiled back. “That is too long a story for after a softball game. How about you let me take you to dinner and give you the whole story?”

Kira grinned, showing her teeth, small, perfect and white. “How can I refuse such a subtle invitation? Sure,” and then she took out her phone and shared her contact information. “Call me. We’ll set a date,” and she walked off, Jordan’s eyes never leaving her perfect peach shaped ass.

--

Thursday night. Mastrangelo’s.

Jordan sat at the bar, drinking a beer and waiting for Kira. They had worn their blue button-down shirt, having taken an extra today, rather than try and clean site dust off of themselves. The change had not gone unnoticed, the guys busting their chops and the secretary in the trailer looking creeped out. Whatever, bitch, they thought, get over yourself.

They had offered to pick her up, but she had demurred, saying that she’d take her own car. Stef and Emily had both told them in the past not to take it personally, that, “she just wants to be sure that, if it doesn’t work out, she’s not stuck going home with you.”

They were staring at the TV over the bar, when they felt a tap. “Hi.”

They turned to face Kira, who was wearing white jeans and a blue tank top with lace around the top (a camisole, they remembered, hearing Mom’s voice, ‘it’s a camisole, Molly, I swear.’ That being the first and last time they wore one, Mom having once again declared them ‘hopeless.’) “Hey, how’s it going?”

Kira leaned in and kissed them on the cheek. “This place looks great. I’ve never been here.”

“They have great veal parmigiana,” which got a look. “I mean, unless you don’t eat veal. Then, they have other choices.”

Kira smiled, showing her top teeth, those beautiful little white teeth. “I don’t. Not for ethical reasons, I just don’t like it that much.” Then, Jordan thought, why did you give me that look?

“OK. Well, everything I’ve had here is pretty good. Can I get you a drink?”

“Sure. Barolo, if they have it.”

Jordan took out their wallet, and held up a $20 bill between their fingers. The bartender came over, eyes going between Jordan and Kira. Whatever, dude. “A glass of Barolo, please.”

The bartender took the $20 and walked away. Kira looking annoyed. Jordan laughed to themself. Femmes always took it personally, like they were being judged. I've been judged my whole life, they thought, and guess what? He's taking my drink order, not the other way around. The bartender brought back the drink and set it down, walking away quickly. “Do you want to drink that here or at the table?”

Kira took a sip and Jordan could see the lip print on the glass. “Let's go to the table,” she said, looking back at the bartender with disdain. They wanted to tell her to ignore him but that would only point out what was obvious and would ruin the night. They sat down, Kira on the inside, and she smiled, looking at them, her hazel eyes twinkling, “So, construction manager, what does that mean?”

“I coordinate between the architects and the contractors and workers, make sure everyone does their job,” and then they paused, wondering how deep to go into it. “Like there's a budget and a time frame,” and they thought about the other day, “and I want to make sure that no one is slacking off.”

She smiled, “So you're the tough guy, huh?”

Was she flirting with me, Jordan thought. “I'm the tough guy,” they said, smiling the easy smile their ex told them made them seem nice. Seem.

“Should I be scared?”

Jordan looked at her, her cute ears with the flower earrings. “Definitely. You should definitely be scared.”

Still smiling. “I don't think so. How did you get into construction management?”

“My family runs a construction company back home. I always liked going out with my dad on-site and, when I was being recruited, I saw that Purdue had a program and there you are.”

“Where's home?”

“DeKalb, Illinois. About 60 miles west of Chicago.”

“How come you didn't go back after graduation?”

Jordan groaned inwardly, hating this question, hating that they didn't have a good answer, even as they had worked on the lie for years. “Two reasons. One, I think that it's good to work for someone else for a while. I had a professor who said that businesses do much better when the next generation works for someone else first, you know, learn new things, learn what it's like to report to someone who you don't see for dinner every week.” The lie seemed to be working and they continued, “and, second, the business is big enough for the current generation, my dad and his brothers, but maybe not the next,” leaving off how Uncle Pete's sons had their own crews, Kevin getting one two years after he dropped out of NIU. “Besides, if I was there, I wouldn't be here.”

“Does that line usually work?” Kira laughed.

Jordan smiled, “You tell me.”

Kira touched their hand, as a woman nearby rolled her eyes, “I'll let you know.”

Not letting go, “So, theater and econ major, how did you get into that?”

“Two reasons, I have them too. First, I love acting but it's not exactly an easy way to earn a living…”

“I know. My sister's an actress, or trying to be.” They owed Emily a call. She had left a message the other day, which she never did, but she didn't sound like it was a problem.

“You have a sister? Older or younger?”

“Actually, Em's my twin, although I’m older,” which got a smile. “I mean, I have an older sister, Stephanie, too…”

Kira’s eyes widened. “You have a twin? Identical or fraternal?”

Jordan smiled. Em's fraternal, in the truest sense. “Fraternal. We look nothing alike, to answer the next question,” they laughed.

“You have two sisters though. That's so cool. I just have a brother and we are not close at all. Are you all? All of my friends are so close to their sisters.”

“Emily and Stef are incredibly close. Me, we've definitely become closer.”

Kira looked at them. “What do you mean?”

Shit. Now, you sound like an asshole. “It's not anything. We were just incredibly different growing up, I played sports, she didn't. She was into,” and they smiled, thinking about that first time, when they came into Stef's room and saw Em in the dress, “makeup and clothes and theater and stuff.” Oh and my mom hated me and my dad hated Chris. “I think, when we weren’t on top of each other, we came to like each other a lot more.”

That seemed to placate her. “And Stef's like that?”

They laughed. “Stef is into clothes and makeup but she's definitely a much bigger bitch than Em.”

Kira laughed, “That's not nice!”

“Oh, she would proudly tell you that. She was a cheerleader and all that, but she's tough. Like she and my grandma can't stand each other and my dad says it's because they're too alike.”

“So, you have a cheerleader, an actress and a jock? Boy, your poor dad didn't know what hit him, did he?”

And...let's not go there. “What's second?”

“What's second what?”

“You said there were two reasons for theater and economics. What's second?”

Kira laughed. “My dad wouldn't pay for just theater. He says uneducated actresses are boring and he wouldn't pay for me to be boring.”

Jordan rubbed the top of her hand, ignoring the sighs of the woman next to her. “You don't seem boring to me...must be the economics major.”

“You've found out my secret,” and she slowly moved her hand away. “What’s left?”

Jordan was amused at Kira’s forwardness, the way she toyed with them. “I imagine there are some secrets left.”

----------

Jordan and Kira lay in bed, in the afterglow. “So…” Kira said, naked and grinning.

“So.”

“Look at you, all smug. Pretty proud of yourself, huh?”

Jordan laughed. “You are a tough one, aren’t you?” They ran their hand down Kira’s side, reveling in the curves and the smoothness, so opposite their own bulk.

“Am I not supposed to be?” She rolled over into the sheet.

“You can be whatever you want to be,” they said looking into her eyes.

“I think I'd have to be, to keep up with you,” and she ran her finger down Jordan's chest, tracing circles around their right nipple.

They smiled. “You think you can keep up with me?”

Kira smiled lasciviously. “I would be very happy,” and she drew out ‘very,’ “to try.”

Jordan ran their fingers on her collarbone. “Really?” They hoped that didn't sound too needy.

“Mmm hmmm,” and she kissed them. “So, how do I introduce you to people?”

“This is Jordan?” Then it hit them. After all these years, they didn’t know how to play these kinds of games. They remembered back to Megan in high school, the way she kept them guessing.

Kira kept smiling and running her finger around the nipple, which was driving them crazy. “No, I know that. I mean, what do people call you?”

Just ask, they thought. And then they thought, ‘shut up. She’s cute, funny and gives great head. If she needs to do this, let her.’ “Jordan,” they teased. “Emmy calls me Jordy when she wants to tease me.”

“Jordy? I like that,” she smiled and kept playing with their nipple. “I meant, what’s your pronoun? What do you prefer?”

Jordan hated this question. They wanted to tell her to fuck off, that it didn’t matter, except that it did. And if it didn’t matter to someone, there’d be some other reason - thick ankles, clingy personality, something, that would make it worse. “They, I guess. I mean I’m non-binary, although I don’t actually care about pronouns.”

“Really?” Kira sat up.

“Really,” they smiled. “I’m me. I’ve been called enough shit in my life,” by my own family, for one. “Call me whatever you want.” I know who I am.

Kira smiled and ran her finger on Jordan’s chest. “OK, Jordy. So, are you trans? Not that I care.”

Which is why you asked. Jordan smiled, thinking ‘only one of those to a family.’ “Nope. No interest. This is me.”

“Did you ever think about it?”

They smiled. “Do you always cut to the chase like this?” Before she could answer, “I thought about it a little,” a lot, “when I was younger. I mean, I totally hung out with the guys, but around middle school, I stopped,” remembering that sleepover but then Coach Lynch, their soccer coach and the way she showed them how you could be tough. “Besides, the side effects suck, I hear. My friend did it and he got fat and started going bald and shit. If it’s what you want, go for it but, nope, not for me, thanks.”

Kira smiled. “Good,” and she rolled over.

Jordan looked at her back. What’s your deal, they wanted to ask. Baby dyke coming out or bored straight girl, experimenting? Then, they stopped. Why the fuck do you care, they wondered. You like her and she seems to like you. Asking, the way you always ask, will only fuck things up. Let it go.

----
They were driving home for the weekend. It was the last place they wanted to be, home having become exponentially more uncomfortable but it was Grandpa’s birthday and Uncle Pete had somehow managed to get a suite at Wrigley. And Grandpa wasn’t getting younger and the Padres were in and they wanted to see Tatis, see if he was everything they said.

“You can crash here,” Stef had offered. Stef and her boyfriend lived in Lincoln Park. Well, their stuff mostly, Stef spending all of her time at the firm and Jared at the bank.

“Jared won’t mind?”

Stef sighed. “I told you, Jordan. He likes you.”

“You’re not just saying that, are you?” All these years later, they still didn’t fully trust Stef, remembering the way that she always criticized their clothes and their video games (‘oh god, you’re hopeless,’ being her favorite.)

“Yes, yes, I am. Which is why I invited you.”

“Ha ha. I should probably go home though.”

“Why?”

“I dunno.”

‘You know. You know that you don’t like it there and you’ll have to drive seventy miles and the highway will be a mess. Just stay with us.”

“OK.”

“Oh yeah, we’re having dinner with them the night before. Mom convinced him to get a room at the Palmer House. A romantic weekend.”

Jordan groaned “Don’t make me think about that.”

“They’re doing all kinds of weird shit. Mom told me.”

“Really?”

She laughed. “Ew, gross. No. Oh god, I don’t even want to think about that.”

“You’re sure you’re OK with me?”

Stef laughed. “With you? No. With you crashing here? Yes,” which led to a conversation about work.

----
Friday night. If Jordan timed it right, they’d be in Chicago by 8 (‘which is fine, reservation’s at 8:30,’ Stef said, ‘not like I can get out before then) and at the restaurant by 8:15.

Jordan timed it right. But I-90 didn’t cooperate. 24 miles took one hour. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck,’ they thought, dreading the inevitable. At 8:45, they walked into the restaurant, apologizing profusely and explaining the problems.

“If you had left more time, you wouldn’t have this issue,” their mother said, by way of greeting. “You know it’s a mess there.”

“Hi to you too, mom,” they said, feeling her eyes burn a hole in them, specifically their shoes. “I left Indy at 5.”

Their dad turned to their mom. “That’s plenty of time, Laura.”

With barely disguised scorn and a look at Stef, “Thank you for your support, Doug. I appreciate it. It’s Friday. They,” the word choked out, “could have left sooner.”

Their father, looking at them, “Champ,” his name for them since childhood, “is the low man...person,” followed by a ‘heh heh’ “on the totem pole. First one in, last one out, right, champ?”

Jordan looked at Stef, who smiled and shrugged. “Yup. Anyway, I’m excited for the game tomorrow. How did Uncle Pete score a suite?”

A look exchanged between their parents, followed by their dad’s, “You know Pete,” and a brief mirthless ‘heh heh.’ “Anyway, this kid Tatis looks like he’s all that and a bag of chips.”

Jordan smiled. “I can’t wait. Should be a good game,” if you eliminated Uncle Pete and his wife. And Uncle Kevin and his.

Jordan’s mother looked at them. “Is that what you wear to work?” A pair of khakis and a button down shirt that they hadn’t had time to change.

“Um, yeah. What would you expect me to wear?” A conversation as old as time, or Jordan.

“Look at how your sister is dressed.” Stef was in a black pants suit with a white satiny looking top, which she wore effortlessly like everything else she wore.

Stef, rolling her eyes, “I work in a law firm, not on a job site, ma.”

“Are you the only,” they could see the wheels spinning in her head. They had had this fight for years, Jordan having thought it was over.

Jordan tested her. “Assistant construction manager? No, there are three of us.”

“Don’t be cute,” she snapped.

“I can manage that.”

Stef chimed in. “Jesus, are you going to do this all weekend? Because I’ll leave and skip the game tomorrow.”

Then, their father. “How are things going with your crew?”

“Good,” they said, “really good.” Other than with the electrical guy who spent all day complaining about how the Bulls ‘fucked him but good.’

“You still having problems with your electrical guy?” They had brought this up with him once, which led to the conversation with the architect.

“Nah,” they lied. “We have it under control now.”

“Because you can’t let them walk all over you. We fired one last week for being lazy.”

A sigh. “I know. I said that I have it under control.”

“Because I don’t give a…,” which led to a look from their mother, “I don’t care if you’re having problems with your wife or your girlfriend or whatever, my site, you’re on the clock. Right?”

“Uh huh,” they said, taking a roll and buttering it, their mother’s eyes following the roll from basket to plate to Jordan’s mouth. “I know.”

“The way you move ahead is by not taking shit, right?”

Their mother began twisting her napkin in her hands. “We all know, Doug. No one takes shit.”

“Thank you Laura.” They looked at Stef, silently asking ‘why’ and getting no good answer. “Champ gets it.”

Jordan looked at Stef. “So, how’s work?” She had been assigned to a big merger, which she had told them ‘means I get to sit in a conference room until 12 AM collating papers. Glad I made law review.’

Stef smiled. “Hella busy,” which made them both laugh, thinking of Emmy.

Their mother looked at them. “What’s so funny?”

“Inside joke, ma. A meme.” That would shut her up. Since they were kids, their mother hated memes (‘in my day, you had to write jokes and they were funny.’) “Jordan,” emphasizing the name, “sent it to me.”
---
Back at Stef’s. She took off her shoes, boots with a low heel, ““You OK?”

Jordan took off their shoes, dropping them next to Stef’s, still amazed at the size difference. Not making eye contact. “Yeah, fine.”

Stef looked at them. “Don’t let them…”

Jordan, brusquely, as they headed to the couch. “I don’t...sorry,” they said as they sat down. “I didn’t mean that the way that came out.”

Stef sat down next to them and rubbed their right shoulder. “I know. It’s not the worst thing to talk about stuff.”

And it’s not the best either. “Nothing to say, Stef. It is what it is.”

Stef laughed a little. “Yeah. By the way, I counted. Three times, only two angry.” The number of times either of them called them ‘Jordan.’ “They’re getting better.”

Jordan sighed, “Can we not?”

“Of course,” presumably thinking about tomorrow. “What else is going on?” Jordan hesitated and Stef pounced. “Who is she?”

Jordan looked at the wall. “She who?”

Stef laughed. “You are the worst liar ever. You’re not looking at me.” They had been told by everyone that they knew when they were lying because of that. “Who is she?”

Jordan paused. “You can’t say anything to them.’

Stef laughed. “Like I would do that. Why would I ever do that?”

“Fine,” Jordan sighed. “Her name is Kira. I met her at softball. She’s a senior at Butler.”

Stef looked at them. “Please tell me she’s not high maintenance.”

Looking at the floor, but smiling. “Shut up.”

“Just say it and I will,” and she poked them in the side.

“Fucking weirdo,” and they poked back, making sure not to do it too hard.

“You’re the one with the problem. You’re a glutton for punishment,” she laughed, whacking them on the back of the head.

“How so? How am I a glutton for punishment?”

Scoffing. “Oh please, I had a long day and I don’t have time to explain each and every instance of your gluttony,” and she headed to the bedroom. Jordan stood up to follow her, then stopped as the door closed. From inside, “You are and you know you are.”

“I’m not but she’s not...high maintenance.” They didn’t think she was. “She seems normal.”

“Just be cool this time,” Stef said, as she came out in a faded Michigan t-shirt, the letters cracking from repeated washings, and shorts. “Be cool and let it work itself out.”

“You and Em. God,” and they went for their backpack, to get their toothbrush and their change of clothes.

She laughed. “We know what’s best for you.”

Someone should, they thought.

-------------------
“You’d think so,”Jared said, as they walked down the steps from the El, in response to a comment from Jordan about how cool it would be to live in one of the buildings where you could see the game from the roof. “But my friend Alex does and he says some asshole beating a drum for nine innings while you’re trying to get laid kinda sucks.”

“Thanks for that image, Jar. I needed that,” Stef laughed. Stef was wearing her Cubs t-shirt and jeans, just like Jordan, but somehow Jordan knew that they’d be found lacking. “Hopefully, we get a good game.”

Jordan stared up at the ‘Wrigley Field, Home of Chicago Cubs’ sign, remembering the first time that Dad had taken them, alone, as a reward for a good game. The way that he took their hand as they crossed Addison, Dad talking about ‘Ernie,’ ‘Hawk’ and ‘Ryno,’ the players from his childhood. And the way that he fed them ice cream and popcorn, telling them with a wink ‘this is between us, Champ.’ Champ. They were still ‘Champ’ to him, they guessed. “We should,” they said, as they walked to the suites’ entrance, Stef holding the tickets in her bag. “I mean, should we get something to eat,” they asked as they passed the concessions.

Stef laughed. “Nah, they took us to a suite when I was a summer associate. They have better food and an open bar.” Jordan assumed that somehow Uncle Pete would cheap out, that he’d have a cooler of Old Style and some chips and that they’d end up going out for food, but they couldn’t say that, not in front of Jared.

They got to the suite and they saw Grandpa Peter sitting in a chair, staring out at the field, the emerald green of the field and the ivy covered walls. Normally, they hated the way that Northside dorks would rhapsodize about the wonder of it, but they still had to admit it was pretty cool. Stef walked over first and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Happy birthday, Grandpa.”

“Steffie,” he smiled. “They let you out of your cell?”

“I’ll go in tomorrow, Grandpa,” she laughed. Grandma Dori came over, with a plate of vegetables. “Hey, grandma,” and each offered the other a perfunctory kiss. Hopefully, they’d each be distracted by someone else for the rest of the day. Jared rolled his eyes at them and then offered his hand. “Happy birthday, sir.”

“Jared. Glad you could make it,” and he looked through him.

Jordan leaned in and gave him an uncertain hug. “Happy birthday, Grandpa. I would’ve brought you something except you can’t bring in anything.”

Grandma Dori looked at them, and they felt bare before the world, “He doesn’t need anything.”

Grandpa looked at them and rolled his eyes. “Hey there. How’s Indianapolis treating you?”

“It’s good,” they nodded. “Work is good.”

Grandpa looked at them. “It’s not supposed to be good. It’s work. You’re the first one there every day?”

Jordan pasted on a smile. “Just me and the security guard.”

He looked at them. “Good. You want a beer? They have it on tap.”

“Sure. You want another?” He smiled and held up a half-empty glass with a smirk. Dismissed.

They walked over to the bar where cousin Kevin was drawing a beer, his latest girlfriend they assumed, blonde and trashy like those who came before her, looking at her phone. “Hey Kev,” and they offered their hand.

“Hey,” pause, “Jordan. You drove up from Indy for this?”

Jordan looked at him. “It’s his birthday. And I wanted to see Tatis.”

Kevin handed them a beer and, with a nod, “Jordan, this is my girlfriend Kylee,” of course she was. “Kylee, this is my cousin Jordan.”

Jordan offered their hand and was given a dead fish in response. A dead fish accompanied by a withering appraisal. Whatever, you skank, they thought, as they talked to Kevin about work and the Cubs.

“Still an assistant manager?” Uncle Pete laughed, interjecting himself.

Jordan smiled, thinking ‘yeah, on a thirty-five story building. How’s that strip mall?’ “Hey, Uncle Pete.”

“Because we have Kevin here managing ten guys on a project.”

Jordan smirked. “That’s great, Kev.” And you get to deal with their bullshit. “I’m managing twenty on mine. A thirty-five story building’s like that.”

“Yeah,” Uncle Pete interjected before Kevin could, “but you’re still an assistant. We trust Kev with decision making,” which made Kylee put her arm around his waist. He’s fucking you, Jordan thought, not marrying you, you dumb bitch.

“They’re a year out of school, Petey,” they heard Uncle Rob. “And they’re doing it on their own.” Then, Rob turned to them. “Hey, Jordan,” offering a bro hug.

“Yeah, well, maybe they,” eye roll, “are like some other people who can’t handle the heat.”

Jordan looked at Rob, who just snickered. “Hey, Uncle Rob. How’s everything?” They noticed the ‘RJN Construction and Engineering’ polo shirt. “How’s business?”

He gave them a half smile. “It’s been great. Busier than ever, all over the country. How’s Indianapolis? A friend of mine from college drove past, said your building is coming along nicely.” Uncle Pete and Kevin walked off to talk to some of the other cousins. As they walked away, “Ignore them. We’re proud of you, for what it’s worth.”

Jordan looked at him and smiled. “Thanks.” Someone should be, they thought. They wondered whether they were supposed to say anything, whether Emmy would want them to.

Aunt Jeannie came over and gave them a kiss. “Hey, Jordan.” They exchanged pleasantries and were talking about their son Liam, who ‘had plans’, when Aunt Julie came over.

“Molly,” she fake smiled, using their old name, the one she had stopped using in college. “How are you?”

“It’s Jordan now,” they sighed, having been through this with her on every holiday. “I changed it, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right. Dori told me that. Said you’re non-binary now. How brave of you.”

Jeannie and Rob just looked at her, and Jordan offered, “Yeah, thanks.”

“Are you seeing anyone?”

Rob, “Well, they see you right now, Julie.”

“Very funny, Robby,” which made him wince. “I just wonder if she, sorry they, find it hard, given their situation.”

Actually, I spent Thursday night fucking someone silly, they thought. “It isn’t, Aunt Julie. Anyway, excuse me, I think I’m going to get something to eat,” as they saw a big tray of Italian beef sandwiches wheeled in.

They were taking one when their mother came over. “Hello.”

“Oh, hey, ma.” They watched as their mom watched them take a bite, hoping nothing was dripping on them.

“How’s everything?” Mom said, as she took a turkey sandwich, throwing one piece of bread into the garbage.

Since last night? “It’s good.” Kira wasn’t a topic of conversation, not yet if ever.

“Work is good?”

They looked at her and sighed. “I told you yesterday that it’s good, very busy.”

“Your father thinks I should apologize for yelling at you yesterday for being late.”

And you don’t. “It’s no big deal. You were hungry,” they offered.

“Well, he thinks I should. Anyway, try and have a good time today,” and she looked around the room, taking in the various Nehlens. Jordan decided that was the apology.

Jordan shrugged. “I’m excited for the game,” and their mother walked off to talk to Rob and Jeannie.

---

Fourth inning, Bote got taken out at second by the runner, blowing the double play and leaving the Padres with runners on first and third. “Ah, damn,” Jordan grumbled. They were sitting in the outside seats. It was a beautiful day. Why come to a game to sit inside, they thought. Cousin Mikey sat next to her. “That sucks.”

Mikey, Stef’s age, not looking at them. “Yeah.”

“How’s everything Mike?”

Now intently watching as the pitching coach came to the mound to talk to the pitcher. “Fine.”

“How’s work?”

Expecting one word and getting. “It’s busy.” Wow, two words, then, “we’re mad busy. Working on a project in Schaumburg. Total gut renovation of an office park. I have forty guys on it.”

They nodded, surprised that the guy who spent every holiday ‘going for walks’ and coming back reeking of weed, like he didn’t know how to vape, could do that. “That’s great. I’m managing…”

He looked back at the suite, where he saw his father waving him in. “Yeah, I’m getting called in. Grandpa must want something,” and then he got up, leaving them sitting there.

Fuck him, they thought. They decided to walk in. They had as much a right to be there as anyone. They walked in backwards, not wanting to miss Tatis’ at bat.

They walked in to find everyone standing around Grandpa, while he sat. “Goddammit,” he yelled, as Tatis knocked one out, flipping his bat in the air. “Goddamn showboat.”

Uncle Kevin. “Fucking bullshit.”

Uncle Pete. “Too bad you can’t brush anyone back anymore.” Turning to Cousin Kevin. “It used to be that the next guy would get nailed in the side. Bob Gibson,” and they were shocked to hear his name mentioned without spitting, “would have this guy,” and they saw the batter walk up, “in the dirt by now.”

Jordan chimed in. “What’s the big deal? He hit one out. That’s his move.”

Dad stared at them. “We’ve discussed this, Champ,” which got a smirk. Well, fuck you, I had a four-year soccer scholarship to a Big Ten school, you losers. “Act like you’ve been there before. Or deal with the consequences.”

“I just…”

Before they could finish the sentence, Grandpa stared at them. “I was talking to my men, not you,” followed by a glare at their father. Smirks from everyone except Dad, who stared at the floor, and Uncle Rob, who rolled his eyes.

Fuck you, you old asshole, they thought, then felt guilty about it, their father’s standard ‘he’s an old man’ ringing in their ears. They walked over to where Mom was deep in conversation with Aunt Julie and Aunt Karen. They stood at the periphery, listening to a conversation about Mom’s office, about managing ‘millennials and Gen Z,’ and their sense of entitlement.

“That’s not fair,” they offered. “Maybe we’re not entitled. Maybe you all just took too much abuse and are mad because we won’t.”

Julie looked at them. “Excuse me?”

“I just think that…”

“Jordan,” there was the first one, “we weren’t talking to you,” their mother said.

“I don’t think I’m entitled. I work hard.”

Karen, “As opposed to the rest of us, Molly? We sit on our butts and eat bon-bons?”

Gritted teeth. “My name is Jordan, Aunt Karen. Not Molly.”

“Jordan,” their mother snapped, offering the second one.

“Whatever. As your mother said, we weren’t speaking about you or to you. I’m surprised you’d deign to speak to us at all.”

And I’m surprised you know the word ‘deign,’ they thought, as they went outside.

---

By the fifth inning, Jordan left the suite to go for a walk, not that anyone noticed.

They were walking along, looking at pictures and occasionally looking up at the game on one of the TVs, when they heard, “Hey, Jordan.”

Jared, beer bottle in hand. “Hey, Jared. What’s up?”

“Why the fuck did you come?”

They knew Stef was lying, that he didn’t want them in the apartment. They felt their hands clinch. “If you didn’t want me, you should have just said so. I won’t do it again.”

Jared stuck out his hand. “I didn’t mean it that way, Jordan. Sorry. It came out wrong.”

They stood there open mouthed, knowing that the Nehlens inside would mock him if they heard that. “Yeah, well, what did you mean?” Trying not to sound hostile.

“Seriously, why the fuck would you ever voluntarily come for this?”

Jordan looked at him, as he took off his cap and ran his hand through his brown hair. Staring at the TV, as the Padres ran the squeeze unsuccessfully, the runner tagged out at third, “Why did you?”

He laughed. “I didn’t have a say in the matter. So, why?”

“It’s Grandpa’s birthday.” Offered half-heartedly.

He took a pull of his beer and swallowed. “Send a card next time,” he laughed. “The old fuck doesn’t appreciate it regardless.”

Jordan was offended for their grandfather, though God only knew why. “Yeah, well…I wanted to see a game from a suite.”

He took another drink, “Next time, ask me. The bank lets us use them from time to time.” They watched as the Cubs closed out the inning. “I should get back, before Kylee asks Stef again if she wants to get high.” He started walking away, saying, “next on the pole, Kylee,” which made them laugh.

They spent the sixth wandering the stadium, stopping to watch the game from time to time.

By the seventh, they had decided. They’d stay for the stretch and ‘let’s root, root, root for the Cubbies.’ They texted Stef, ‘I’m out.’

‘See you back at the apartment’

Jordan stared at the field as the Padres ran out for the bottom of the inning. ‘Nah. Headin back home. Had enough’

‘Come on stay. Jager bombs on me’ followed by the woozy face emoji.

‘Nah. I wanna go back I think. Thx for lettin me crash and thx 2 Jared’

‘Are u sure’

‘Yeah’

They made it south of Gary before Dad called. To ask them the name of his old foreman.

Emily Berrigan is a 23 year old transwoman. At 17, she was thrown out by her parents. She hasn't seen her twin Jordan in person in six years, as a result. Her older sister, Stephanie, is engaged. Will sparks fly?

In Chapter 1, we met Emily. In Chapter 2, her (non-binary) twin Jordan. Now, we meet Stephanie, their cishet older sister and the bride-to-be
-----------

Stephanie looked at her phone as she walked out of her office onto Lake Street. 8:30, an early night. Too early for the firm to cover her Uber, but too late to take the train. Every time she’d say that she was going to, Jared would tell her not to, that he’d cover it. Not that she’d take him up on it. She made more money than she ever thought she would and, even with her student loans, she could cover a $15 cab once in a while. She was standing out front when she heard, “Hey, Stef.”

“Oh, hey, Mike,” she said, as she turned to the voice. Mike, a friend from Michigan who was working for an asset management company in the building. “What’s going on? How’s Ariana?” His girlfriend as of the last time they’d seen him.

He laughed. “That’s over.”

“Sorry.”

“I’m not. Early night?” He laughed slightly.

“Yeah, half day.” They looked out at the Chicago River, dark other than the lights on the bridges barely illuminating it. “I hear that’s nice during the day.”

“Wouldn’t know,” he laughed. “You headed home? Wanna split a cab?”

“Sure.” This wasn’t the first time they had gone home together. He was the perfect cab mate, he talked if you did, but otherwise didn’t feel the need to fill the silence. They got a cab and he climbed in first. “Any plans for the weekend?”

Mike shrugged. “Maybe a party in Lakeview. Friend of a friend. You?”

“Jared’s cousin got engaged. We have the party out in Northbrook.”

“Lucky you,” he said. “Weekend with the in-laws.”

“They’re not my in-laws,” she laughed. They’ll be eventually, she thought, not that she was in a rush. She and Jared were fine the way they were, living together. Besides, they both worked crazy hours, so it wasn’t like a ring would change anything, not that mom and dad saw it that way.

“Yeah, OK, sure.” And he went back to staring out the window, which was fine by her.

Her phone buzzed. Mom. At least, she had finally learned not to call during work hours, before 8:00 PM. She was an administrator for a law firm, you’d think she’d get it, except it wasn’t a real firm. They did closings and wills and some litigation, with an office in a house in Dekalb. She had shown mom and dad her office once and they couldn’t stop talking about the view. She stared at the phone and sighed. “I’m in a cab with Mike, I’ll call you back. I promise,” and she hung up.

Mike laughed without looking at her. “How’s your mom?”

“Annoying,” she laughed. “Yours?”

“In New Jersey, thank god.”

And then the conversation stopped again, until they pulled up to her place. “I’ve got this,” he said, taking out his wallet.

She grimaced. “No, I said we’d split.”

He looked at her and then the cabbie. “You both should invest. There, now, I can expense it. Next time, you pay, Stef,” he said, as he put away his wallet. “Say hi to Jared for me,” he said, as he walked away.

She looked at her phone. If she went upstairs and Jared was there, he’d roll his eyes during the call, which was irritating. But the day had been long enough. If she called her from down here, she’d wouldn’t be upstairs for another half an hour.

Two minutes later, she was upstairs, no Jared, which was good. She put her shoes by the door, joining the pile there, and then pulled her bra out of her sleeve. She sniffed it and hung it on the door of the bedroom, so she could wear it another day.

She put the phone on speaker and called. Second ring, “Hey, Steffie.”

“Hey, ma.”

“How’s Mike?” Her dad had met Mike once in Ann Arbor and said his hands were too soft. Her mom said that the goal was to not have hands like sandpaper (‘not everyone likes callouses, Doug.’)

“He’s fine. Hands are still baby soft, I think he moisturizes them.”

“Funny, sweetie,” she laughed. “How’s Jared? Hi Jared.”

“He’s not here. They probably went out after work.” Jared was a utilities trader, and one of things they did was go out drinking, not that Jared was a drinker. She’d never seen him have more than two, and he usually left part of the second.

“You don’t know where he is?”

“I trust him, ma.”

“I didn’t say that.” No, you just suggest it every time I don’t say that I have an ankle bracelet on him. “I trust your father, but I still know where he is.”

“Yeah, so, what's up?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to see how you were doing. Randy,” her boss, “asked how you were doing.”

I went deep into debt so I could put together deal packages. “I'm good. Say hi.”

“Grandma and Grandpa were glad you came to the game.”

Drily, “Somehow I doubt that.”

Her mom laughed. “Well, I was happy you came. You know that I can't stand the rest of them.”

Stef laid back on the bed and looked at the ceiling. She knew this already and her mom knew she knew this. But, if she was complaining about them, she wasn't nagging her and she could basically tune her out, offering token ‘uh huhs.’

Until it came to, “I don't like how your sister looks.”

It took her a second. Emmy was her sister. “What's wrong? They looked good to me.” She could hear her wince. “What?” Jordan, she was talking about Jordan.

“I understand that she, they is, are a lesbian and I'm perfectly fine with that,” which is why you always mention it, “but she looks horrible. That haircut, for one.”

She sighed. “I'm not doing this again. Can we go back to complaining about Grandma and them?”

“I'm concerned.”

Another sigh. “About? They seem fine to me.” She almost mentioned the new girl, but Jordan would rightfully kill her.

“You and your father seem to think that.” Good, now we could segue into Dad, she thought. She put the phone on her dresser as she got undressed, throwing her shirt into the cleaning pile and hanging up her suit, her mother keeping up a steady stream of patter.

She put on one of Jared's old t-shirts, “so why doesn't he do what Uncle Rob did and go out on his own?” Uncle Rob was the youngest of Dad’s three brothers, Dad being second youngest. From the whispered grumbling, he was doing really well.

“We don't have that luxury right now, Stephanie,” she said flatly. “As much as I'd like that.”

“You're not paying for school. Jordan and I are self-supporting,” you won't even say her name, not for six years, “why not now?”

“We don't have Rob’s connections. Some of us didn't get to leave home for college, you know.” Rob, alone among the four Nehlen brothers, had gone away to college, Notre Dame, no less, a fact that always bothered Dad.

She gave the phone the finger. “I just meant that he's miserable, you're not happy…”

“I didn't call for advice,” she huffed.

Eyes rolling, “You called me.”

“To see how you were.” No one could turn on a dime like mom.

“Ok, ma. Sorry.” Like listening to mom and grandma Linda. She heard the lock turn. “Jared just came home. Let me sniff him for perfume.”

“Very funny, Stef. I love you.”

“I love you too. Dad too.”

Jared walked in, untying his tie and carefully putting his shoes by the door. She took him in. 6’2”, 195, brown hair, blue eyes. Not someone everyone would turn around for, but good looking enough and, more importantly, good where it counted. He came over and kissed her on the lips. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey, sweetie,” she said. “How was your day?”

“Good, I guess,” he said, as he walked into the bedroom.

“That didn't sound promising.” She watched as he unbuttoned his shirt and threw it on the dry cleaning pile. She went and put it in the cleaning bag.

“Market went crazy. We had a down day... Nothing unusual.”

“It'll be up tomorrow.”

“Probably,” he laughed. “But all that matters is today, you know how it goes. How was your day?” A question dad never asked.

“Another day in paradise. Today, I put together resolutions. I know, I know. Ma’nishtana.” Jared had taught her that the first time she met his family. From Passover - ‘why is this night different from all other nights?’ She didn’t meet them then but it was the all purpose Gauss family response. “Mike says hi.”

“How’s Mike and what’s her name?” He laughed. “I know I should know it.”

“Doesn’t matter. She’s” and she jerked her thumb behind her. “We should just call them Bic lighters.”

He laughed. “Street umbrellas.”

She thought for a second. “Carnival goldfish. Small, cute, and dead before they hit the bowl. Mike’ll like that. Anyway, you hungry?” She wasn’t but felt compelled to ask, to be the good girlfriend.

“We ate shit at the bar,” he said. “Sorry.”

“No biggie. I wasn’t really that hungry anyway. I’ll eat some cheese and crackers or something. When’s the thing on Saturday?”

“You don’t know?” He picked up last night’s t-shirt off the bed, sniffed it and put it on.

And so it began. She was supposed to be the keeper of the calendar, buyer of food and cleaner of clothes. She didn’t sign on for this, it wasn’t going to happen. Then, this really isn’t a big deal, she thought. And I have a phone, where his aunt sent the invite. She looked at it. “2:00. How long do we have to stay?”

He looked at her. “Do we have plans or something?”

And she felt herself tense. “No. I just wanted to try that new place, the Mexican one.”

He came over and kissed her again. “We don’t have to stay that long, if you don’t want. Couple of hours. Come on, it’s Nicki, you like her.” She did. She was one of those funny, low maintenance Jewish girls, not like the ones from Long Island from freshman year. Always good for comments about her various relatives, and she liked her fiance. “Besides, I don’t want to listen to everyone ask us either.”

Yeah, she thought. Try being the girl. “Whatever. We’ll stay as long as we stay,” three hours, at least, she knew.

He laughed. “That’s the spirit!”

----
Saturday afternoon.

Stephanie stood in front of the mirror, playing with her dress; having chosen her powder blue one with the little flowers. She made minute adjustments to the hem, which fell a couple of inches above her knee. Cute, but not something that would draw attention. Today was about Nicki and, besides, the last thing she needed was his aunts saying something. They already had enough ideas - wrong ones, but ideas nonetheless - about her, they didn’t need ammunition. She went into the living room, where Jared was mindlessly watching TV. She picked up her purse, “Ready?”

“You look amazing, honey,” he said, grinning (‘we broke him in for you,’ his sisters joked).

“Thank you,” she said, as he stood up, and she adjusted his shirt, blousing it out from his pants.

Forty-five minutes later, they were driving through Northbrook, where his aunt lived. And his parents. And his grandparents, not that she was one to talk. She watched as the houses went past. Not that it looked all that different from Dekalb, her hometown, it was Illinois, it was flat, but still she looked. When she started at U of M, she remembered listening to the girls from here and Scarsdale and Bloomfield Hills, about their new cars and the trips and talking about ‘where they applied to college.’ Michigan was her one out of state school.

“Let’s do this,” she said, swinging her legs out from the car, not that anyone was watching. She remembered that first trip out to California, the way Emmy did it naturally, like she had been born to it and smiled to herself.

They walked in, and were greeted by Jared’s oldest sister, Jamie. “Hey, sweetie,” she said, giving Stephanie a kiss. “How’s everything? How’s McDermott these days?” Jamie was in-house for Jones Lang LaSalle, having, ‘gotten out of firm life as fast as possible.’

“Sucks,” she laughed, shrugging.

“Do your time and you’ll get out. Besides, just bank the cash. Let this one,” and she poked Jared, “pay for shit.”

Jared promptly rolled his eyes and ignored her, and they began walking through, greeting everyone. They found his grandmother leaning against the fireplace, ignoring one of his cousins. Stephanie took her in, all 5’3” and 140 lbs of her, in a beautiful blue blouse and white linen pants, and she thought back to the Cubs game with her grandparents. “Hey, Grandma,” Jared said, giving her a kiss. “What’s up?”

“Charles is annoying, but you knew that,” she laughed. “How are you two?” Turning to Stephanie, “How’s work? Do they still have you locked up doing garbage work?” Before Stephanie could answer, “more importantly, are the male,” the word dripping, “associates doing the same thing?”

“Yes, Gloria, they treat us all the same. Like dogs,” remembering her dad’s favorite Vince Lombardi quote.

She grinned, then her eyes narrowed. “Don’t let them. We all worked too hard for that.” Before she had met her the first time, Jared told her to expect this (‘grandma was like hardcore feminist, surprised she didn’t kill my dad.’), but still she was surprised.

“I know, Gloria.” The first time she met her, she called her ‘Dr. Gauss,’ since she was a sociology professor at UIC, which got a smile and a nod to Jared, and ‘call me Gloria.’ “I'm doing the best I can.”

“Good,” then looking at Jared, “go find your mother. She was looking for you.”

Stephanie walked through the house, looking at the art on the walls, the books on the shelves. She remembered the first time she came here and the way that his aunt Michelle had tried to explain the art to her in front of everyone.

---
“I can see the influence of Rothko,” Stef had said, to everyone's shock, and Jamie's amusement, “but it's really got more of a,” yard sale, “Robert Motherwell feeling,” you pretentious bitch. Yes, the little Catholic hick from Dekalb knows about art. Not that her family owned any or went to museums, that being reserved for school trips.

“They bought that shit at some charity auction,” Jared had laughed in the car on the way back, while she vented. “And that was only to show off. I guarantee you that they haven't been in the Art Institute in twenty years at least.”
---
Stef wandered through the house, saying hi to his various relatives, feeling their eyes burn a hole through her.

She wandered into the kitchen, where his aunt was busy directing the caterers. “Hey, Michelle.”

“Oh, hello, Stephanie,” she said, then telling a waitress to take the spanakopita out to the patio (‘look for a gray haired man in a sweater,’ her father, ‘first.’) “I'm sorry, I'm a little crazy as you can imagine.”

Stef smiled. “I just came in to say mazel tov.” Jared taught her the pronunciation before his cousin's bat mitzvah.

“Thank you,” and she gave her a kiss, while mentally deconstructing her. I made law review, she thought. You were selling makeup at Neiman’s when you met Dan. Just saying. At least, she was spared the inevitable ‘what about you two,’ Michelle having made her feelings clear.

Eventually, she found Nicki, in her pink sleeveless dress, surrounded by her friends. “Hey, Nicki,” she said, grinning. “Congratulations.”

She gave her a big hug. “I'm so glad you're here,” seeming sincere.

Stef laughed. “Lemme see.”

Nicki thrust her hand out dramatically. “If you insist.”

Stef looked at it. Probably two and half carats, square cut. “Very nice. Good job, Jake,” she said, kissing Nicki's fiance on the cheek.

Jake looked at Jared. “I have a guy,” he joked. “He'll hook you up.”

Jared gripped Stef's hand. They had discussed it, sort of, agreeing that it would happen. Eventually. Jared looked at him. “But you're taken, Jake.”

Nicki smiled, her easy smile, “That's right,” and she put her arm around his waist, “he is. Besides, you two would be terrible together. Jared could not deal with your neatness.” She turned to her friends. “Jake is an absolute neat freak.”

Stef watched them with detachment. Even after all these years, they were a foreign country to her, the way they joked and congratulated each other on successes and made efforts to see each other besides holidays. Not that her family wasn't supportive, she remembered the way Aunt Jackie made sure to send her care packages throughout college and law school, but this was something else. “Jews talk,” was all Jackie said.

Eventually, Nicki's dad stood next to her, his arm around her, holding his glass of champagne aloft. He thanked everyone and said, “I just want to say,” and his voice caught, “how happy I am that Nicki and Jake have found each other and how happy we are to have him in the family.” Nope, dad wouldn't say that, not that he disliked Jared. “And it seems like just yesterday, we were bringing Nicki home from the hospital.”

Nicki, “Daddy,” drawing it out. “You're embarrassing me,” as she ate it up.

He grinned, pulling her closer, “Just wait until the wedding.” Words never uttered in Nehlen land. She tried to remember Cat's wedding, if Uncle Kevin even said anything. He just showed his love in a new kitchen when she and Matt bought a house.
--
“Did you have a good time?” Jared asked, as she buckled her seatbelt after the party. Unlike her family, no one was drunk.

Jared always asked that whenever they saw his extended family, she realized. Trust me, she wanted to say, if I didn’t, you’d know. Then again, she never asked that in reverse, knowing the answer. He hated her family. Well, hate was harsh. But she noticed the way he’d always find a reason to go to the bathroom or offer to wash dishes (‘I don’t mind helping’), a fact that did not go unremarked on, not that she blamed him. “I did,” she smiled. “You don’t always need to ask. I like your family."

“They like you too.”

She laughed. “They should. I’m extremely likable.” Jared started driving, and she stared out the window. She watched a kid wash his new Jeep, lovingly cleaning the tires with a brush. Not that she got a new car or even expected one (‘getting your driver’s license means you’re first learning to drive,’ her dad joked. ‘A new car may as well as be a loaded gun’), even though Jordan got the truck when they turned sixteen.

Jared pulled into the lot of what looked like a junior high school. “Something wrong with the car?” Her father’s daughter, she could tell when she was driving if something was off, but she wasn’t, thank God, him, able to diagnose it from the passenger side. Let Jordan do that, she’d laugh to herself.

Jared looked around nervously. “Nah, this is my old junior high school.”

She wanted to get back to the apartment, to go to dinner, not go on a trip down memory lane. “OK?” Trying to hide her frustration.

“Can we walk around a little bit?”

“You know, we’ve been here how many times and you’ve never shown me this.”

“Well, I want to now, OK?” His eyes darted around.

Sighing, she unbuckled her seat bet. She got out of the car and looked around at the nondescript 1970s squat brick structure and wondered. He wasn’t breaking up with her, that much was clear. If you are, she thought, you could’ve saved me the trip. Besides, she was out of his league, he’d joke. And she was, except she had dated enough guys in her league to know that they were assholes. Jared was like dad in that way, he appreciated what he had. She smoothed her skirt and laughed. “You wanna go down memory lane, babe, fine.”

They walked around the building and she pictured seventh grade Jared, all curly mop and braces, walking in with his weird friend Alex. Twice a year, they’d go to dinner with him - he was an oncology fellow at Rush and barely had time to breathe. He wasn’t a bad guy and was impressed that she had ‘done that research project in high school’ (finalist in Intel, thanks), but still he’d look at her like he was waiting for her to mock him, like there were two football players waiting outside to kick his ass. She'd laugh to herself, thinking that we wouldn't have noticed you enough to care about you, much less beat you up.

He went out back to the football field and stood at the bleachers. “You know this is where I kissed my first girl. Kayla Gelb.”

“Cool.” She remembered her first time, Tommy Robredo at Kate’s ‘boy-girl party’ in sixth grade. She could still taste the drool on her lips.

And then - he dropped to one knee and reached into his pocket. “And I want it to be where I kiss my last girl,” and he grinned, looking right at her. “Stephanie Nehlen, will you marry me,” and he opened the box. Inside was a ring, emerald cut, at least three carats. She felt herself tearing up, dammit. This wasn't in the plan, the bastard. She nodded, unable to speak. “Is that a yes?”

She threw her arms around him and kissed him, hard. “Yes,” she coughed out. “Yes, yes, yes,” and they kissed again. “Yes.”

“You’ve made me the happiest man in the world. And I’m going to make you the happiest woman.”

She wiped her tears. “You better.”

She could see tears in the corners of his eyes. “I will. I promise,” and he slipped the ring on her finger. “Do you like it?”

“It’s gorgeous,” and she stared down at it. She was never one of those girls, except now she was.

“It’s my grandma’s,” he said proudly.

“I hope she doesn’t realize it’s missing,” she joked.

He laughed. “Oh shit, don't wear it around her. No, she gave it to me when I told her I was proposing to you.”

“You told her? Wow, she’s good. She didn’t let on or anything today.” All they talked about was work - and how she thought Nicki was selling herself short.

“Nah, she’s good. That’s why I hated playing cards with her when I was a kid. You really like it?”

“Yes, it’s gorgeous. I can’t wait to tell everyone.” She took out her phone and snapped a picture of her hand. She started typing and then hit send.

Two seconds later, “Hi, mom. Yes, he did. No, I just kept the ring. I know it’s beautiful. It’s his grandma’s. Please don’t go there, mom. I dunno, he just proposed like five minutes ago,” then, “hi dad. Yes, I said yes. I know you do. I love you too. I can’t wait to see you guys either. Love you.” Jared stood there laughing at her and she gave him the finger.

“They’re excited?”

“Yes,” she laughed. “Very.”

“What don’t you know?”

“Where we’re getting married. When. That kind of stuff.”

“Wherever you want. Whenever.”

“No,” she said, resolving not to be one of those brides, “we decide together.”

Jared laughed, “Sure.”

“I'm serious,” she said, poking him. “We do this together.”

“Sure, right,” he kept laughing, as she kept tickling him. “I'll pick a place, you'll say no. You'll pick a place, I'll say no and then you'll win,” he said, tickling her back. “I'm not stupid.”

She squirmed, giggling. “Yes, you are.”

More kissing her with big wet smacking noises. “I'm not, I know how this is going to work.”

She pulled away, feeling flush, out of breath and weirdly alive, “You're not leaving me to do this with her.”

He kissed her, seriously this time. “I won't. It's you and me.”

You and me, she thought. Damn.

---
Across the country, a phone pinged. What appeared was a picture of a left hand, on the ring finger of which sat a huge ring.

“OMG,” appeared on screen, then the phone rang. “Oh my God!!! Is that what I think it is?”

Stef smiled, Emmy, her little sister, was the human emoji, all smiles and hearts. “Mmm hmm, Emmy.”

The enthusiasm bubbled up. “I am so so so happy for you guys. That is so so so amazing.” She pictured her, her ponytail bobbing while she bounced in her seat. “Are you excited?”

“No, I said yes because I'm apathetic.”

“Shut UP!”

“Yes, I'm excited,” she laughed. “So you're going to be a bridesmaid…” She remembered how excited, nervous Emmy was that first time she put on Jordan's junior bridesmaid's dress, the way she kept turning this way and that. How cute she looked when she put on lip gloss and blush. The way that Jordan caught them and said only, “I thought mom said no makeup until you’re 15,” and walked out.

“Oh my gosh, for real?”

“Of course, for real. You're my sister,” she laughed. “It's you and Jamie and Brooke,” Jared's younger sister, in her first year at film school at USC, she and Emmy both in LA; she made a note to tell Jared to have them meet finally, “and Arden,” her best friend from college, “will be maid of honor.” Realizing how that sounded, “That doesn't bother you, right?”

Emmy, laughing, “Please, no, Steffie. It should totally be Arden. She's like your sister too.”

“You sure?”

Teasing, “So long as you didn't tell her first.”

Steffie looked at Jared, who was driving and grinning, “Of course not,” she lied, sort of. She had texted Arden, who was probably doing rounds at the hospital, but she hadn't heard back, so Emmy was the first to congratulate her. And it wasn't a competition. Arden was Arden and Emmy was Emmy. Two sides of the coin. “Of course not, you're my little sister. Anyway, we're on the way back from Nicki’s thing, so I'll call you later.”

“Emily's excited, I take it,” Jared laughed.

She started bouncing around in her seat, then smiled, thinking of how excited she'd be at the first dress fitting, how she’d keep staring at her reflection, how mom would joke and call her Tigger, like when she was little…”oh…”

“What?” Jared asked. “What's wrong?”

Jared knew about Emily. She had told him early on. If a guy was going to get freaked out, she wasn't going to waste time. Emmy was her sister and, if a birth certificate was a problem, so be it. “Mom…”

“Oh yeah…”

Then, “I don't care. Emily's my sister and she's going to be in the wedding,” girding for the fight.

“Works for me,” he said, then, “thanks for having Jamie and Brooke.”

“They're your sisters, of course I'm having them.”

“Your mom won't be upset that it's not Stace and Mia?” Jackie’s daughters.

“I'm not having sixteen bridesmaids. Unless it's a royal wedding, that's just tacky,” she laughed.

He rolled his eyes. “You're my princess.”

She thought about how his grandmother would lose her shit at that, how she didn't allow princess stuff in her house, how his mom joked about hiding it when she came over. She mock-removed the ring. “Pull over. Let me out.”

“Nope. Princess Stephanie, I like the sound of that,” he teased. “King Jared and Princess Stephanie, sounds good.”

“Oh fuck you,” she laughed, “more like Queen Stephanie and her consort.”

“Can I consort with you,” and he put his hand on her thigh, massaging it.

“You're cheating,” she laughed, as she squirmed. “No fair.”

He moved his hand up. “Email the no fair office. Just say yes.”

“Keep doing that,” she commanded. “Fine, you can consort with me, if you must.”

Just then, her phone rang. “Hi, Aunt Jackie,” mom’s sister, “I don't know, we've been engaged for like five minutes... No, definitely not in Dekalb... Well, let her know you agree...yeah, thanks... I'll send you a picture... We're in the car... Love you too.” to Jared, “This better stop tonight,” then, “let's see if any of them call.” Them being dad's family. Jared sighed and she continued, “Sorry, you're right,” and she stared at her finger. “Your grandpa had good taste.”

“He did. You'd hardly know it was zircon.”

She looked at him. “You know I don't care, right?” She knew what some of his family thought of her, that she was marrying him for money. Yeah, she'd think, take a look at my W-2 and then yours, and we'll see.

“I know. That's one of the reasons I love you. But it isn't. It's legit.”

She laughed, “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

---
Later that night, she was on the phone with Arden, friends since the first week of freshman year when Arden held her hair after a frat party. “Am I making a mistake?” The mistake being asking Emily to come East for the wedding.

Arden, yawning after a long shift. “No, absolutely not. She's your sister.”

“Yeah, but…”

“No buts,” Arden said. “She's your little sister. How could you not?”

Stef got up to stretch her legs, looking at the picture in the corner of the mirror, Arden, Emily and her at a football game in Ann Arbor, the first time Em went out as herself. Her face was a little more angular, the hair a little too short but the silly look, the smile was Em. “I'm afraid,” the first time she'd said that out loud.

“I get it, but if she doesn't want to, she'll let you know.”

Stef knew she wouldn't, Em was a people pleaser, no matter what. “I just don't want her to have any problems,” she sighed.

“She's a grown woman. She can handle herself, Stef.” Stef smiled, Arden the first to call her by the right pronoun.

“I know,” she exhaled. “I just worry.”

“You're a good big sister,” she placated her, “you always were,” then, “I still can't believe you're getting married.”

“Me either. Do you remember that girl senior year, what's her name?” And they went off on a girl who bragged about getting ‘her ring before spring,’ like it was the 50s or something, while Arden said, under her breath, ‘I'm gonna have an MD before an MRS.’

“Oooh,” Arden said, “maybe you can call her. Get some tips.”

“Oh, fuck you, Arden.” She was grinning from ear to ear.

“Not unless you buy me a rock like that.”

“Oh fuck no. You know how much I did for that? Put out then we’ll talk rings.”

“Nah, the bicoastal thing would never work for me. Or,” and Stef began giggling, preemptively, “the bi other thing.” In college, some Fiji asshole had tried to spread a rumor that she and Arden were lesbians, like it was a big deal. Yeah, well, it was - the disciplinary hearing got him on probation.
--
Monday morning, Stef was sitting in her office reviewing some prospectus, making sure that one set of rich people could cheat some other rich people, when her phone rang. “I’m at work, ma.”

“Hello to you too,” her mother said, faux-brightly. “So as we were discussing…”

We weren’t discussing anything, you were. I was looking at my phone. “Still at work, ma.”

“I just wanted to discuss some things with you.”

Arden’s ‘humor her’ in her ears, she moaned, “You get ten minutes. Sorry, but time is money. You know that.”

“It won’t take more than that.” Stef set the timer on her phone, mentally betting how far over she’d go.

“OK. Fine...what were we discussing?”

“Kaia…” Her cousin’s five year old daughter. The flower girl. To be. The flower girl to be. Named for the daughter of Cindy Crawford, the pride of Dekalb. Stef wondered how many Kaias were in her class.

“What about her?”

“Your grandmother’s very upset,” she sighed.

“Since when do you care about what she thinks?” She was now referred to only by the spat pronouns ‘she’ and ‘her.’

“I don’t, but she gave your father an earful and then gossiped to them.”

She looked at the clock. 9:20 seconds left. Did she miss getting on an elliptical machine? “Jesus, ma. So because they can’t keep their noses out of things, I have to have that little brat in my wedding? Besides, I don’t even know if I want a flower girl.”

“Of course, you do. We’ve covered this. You were in Rob and Jeannie’s wedding. You were adorable.”

Stef laughed, in spite of herself. “I’m cuter and was better behaved.”

A laugh, “Nonetheless, if you’re not going to have any of your cousins in the wedding, you need to give something.”

“Are any of them paying for this,” she scoffed, “because otherwise I don’t have to give anything.”

“Stephanie, don’t be like them,” her trump card. “She’s a little girl. Don’t blame her for her parents.”

“They blame me,” she said, a tinge of defensiveness in her voice. “They always have.”

“Who cares what they think?”

Stef, playing with a pen on her desk, balancing it on its point and trying to catch it before it fell. Shit. “You do. You brought it up.”

“I don’t care what they think. Your father does and I care about him, so ipso facto, I care about this…”

“Do the lawyers in your office actually say ‘ipso facto?’” She imagined the gales of laughter that would happen if someone said that here.

“Only Gerald,” the 80 year old semi-retired founding partner. “Nonetheless, that’s what marriage is...”

6:30. Was she on a glacier? “Putting up with shi,” and then she remembered how much her mother hated when she cursed, saying that ‘your sister does that,’ “stuff that neither one of you wants to placate some people neither of you can stand? Maybe, I won’t get married.”

Her mother laughed loudly. “No, it’s about caring about what your husband thinks.”

“If I say I’ll think about it - seriously think about it - can we get off the phone? I have work to do and talking about some brat being in my wedding when I’ve been engaged for two days seems counterproductive, no?”

“What did his aunt,” Michelle’s name never said, like Voldemort, “have to say?”

She sighed, remembering a Hanukkah party at Michelle and Dan’s house, Michelle repeatedly telling people how ‘they’re the first people I’ve ever met from Dekalb, I think.’ “Not going there, ma.”

“I’m sure she’s thrilled that you have his grandmother’s ring.” (‘She was following me around like I was going to take the silverware. Which is cheap junk from the outlets.’)

She held the phone to her keyboard and hit the keys. “Oh, I just checked the tickets for ‘there’. Aw, all sold out. So we’re not going. Maybe next time.” Then, she hit backspace to delete ‘drbnfkxtq.’

“I was just saying…”

Stef snapped. “Mom, I don’t care what anyone thinks - them, grandma, Jared’s family, no one. This is my wedding. We will have the wedding I want to have when I want to have it and where I want to have it with whomever I want to be in it. Period.” She hadn’t told her yet about Emily. “Understood?”

She could hear her teeth grit. “I’m not going to be lectured by you, Stephanie.”

She sighed, as the pen fell and rolled off her desk under the chair. She’d have to maneuver her chair just so to not crush it. “I’m not lecturing. And it’s not me against you,” a pause, “it’s us against them.”

A laugh. “I’m not letting you off that easily.”

She got up and moved her chair back, crushing the pen. Shit. “I’m sure you aren’t.”

“Can I tell her that Kaia will be in it?”

“Tell her that we haven’t decided if it’s a day or evening wedding,” because we’ve been engaged for TWO DAYS and they need lives, “but if it is, I will definitely consider her for the job.”

“With that, counselor,” she laughed. “I love you, have a good day.”

“Love you too, ma,” she sighed.

Twelve hours later, her boss called her into his office. “Everything OK?” she said, as she knocked.

Without looking up, he said, “I hear congratulations are in order.”

She could feel the love emanating from him. “Thanks.”

He looked up for a second and smiled. “Seriously, congrats. They tell you the secret of a good marriage is listening. It isn’t. The secret of a good marriage is not listening. Pay attention to no more than ten percent of what he says and you’ll be fine.”

She laughed. “I thought it was ‘never go to bed angry’,” something someone had said at Cat’s wedding.

He laughed. “Then, no one here would ever get married. Or sleep. Anyway, knock off for the night. Go see your betrothed,” the last word said with all due sarcasm.

---
She got on the el, making sure to turn her ring inward. She pulled out her phone and began flicking through TMZ, Twitter, anything mindless to keep herself occupied.

A message popped up. ‘Congrats,’ from Jordan. Jordan was working in Indianapolis as a construction manager, the lone sibling to go anywhere near anything resembling the family business, even if they were five hours away working for another company.

She remembered how excited Jordan used to get when Dad would take them to a job site, how much they didn’t shut up when Dad let them haul nails to the crew. She typed back, ‘wow it took you two days thx’

A middle finger emoji, followed by ‘r u married yet if not be quiet’ then ‘srsly congrats thats great I like Jared’

‘Thx He likes u 2’ then, ‘hows Kira,’ followed by heart emojis

‘Fuh Q’ followed by laughing emojis, then ‘I try 2 be nice and this is what I get’

‘Sorry couldnt resist,’ then ‘I wont say anything anymore’

‘Shes good were good its good’

‘Are we a we yet’

‘Well see,’ followed by a shrug emoji, the man one. Hmmm. ‘Were good right now later is later,’ which was pure Jordan, then ‘where r u’

‘El going home’

‘U shouldnt be on train this late’

She smiled. If you had asked her when they were kids, the idea that Jordan would not be actively trying to get her killed or at least hurt would have been unfathomable. ‘Thx Jared’

‘I care about u PITA,’ family slang for ‘pain in the ass.’ Which made ordering every trip to the Middle Eastern restaurant amusing. ‘I dont want u hurt’

‘Awww,’ then, ‘u just dont want to have to deal w them alone’

‘Duh’

‘My stop next love u say hi to Kira’

‘Love u 2’ and ‘im ignoring you’

She put away her phone and smiled.

--
They were on their way to Dekalb, the satellite radio tuned to ‘90s on 9,’ Jared, singing along to “You Get What You Give,” his fascination with oldies befuddling her. She looked out the window at the bleak expanse of I-88, the other cars, the personal injury billboards, the nothingness flying past her at 80 miles an hour. The song ended and he asked, “Are they going to be there?”

She raised her arm and watched her bangle bracelet slide, then lowered it and watched it slide back. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. She,” probably, “wouldn’t do that to us.”

“Not that I don’t love your family,” convincing, especially as his knuckles turned white on the wheel.

She laughed, “You don’t always have to say that. You know that I hate your aunt.”

“Yes,” he smiled, “but I’m nicer than you.”

She smirked. “That’s like being the world’s second tallest midget, Jar. I’m a bitch,” then, teasing, “seriously, why would you want to be married to me?”

Without looking at her, “Oh, that’s easy. You’re really hot.”

She looked down at herself. 5’7”, 36 Cs, 25 inch waist. Great legs, if you believed the stares she got on the street. “Oh. That makes sense,” she said. “You know why I’m with you?”

He laughed. “My huge dick?”

She held two fingers close together. “Mmm, nope.”

“My winning personality?” His hands now relaxed.

“If that’s winning, I’d hate to see losing.” And she turned the channel to Z-100 from New York, making Jared grimace. “Try again.”

“I have no idea,” he laughed.

“Because,” she said, leaning over to give him a kiss on the cheek, “I love you. Because you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He looked confused. “I’m serious.”

He smiled. “Oh, OK. That seems like a good reason,” and she punched him. “Hey!”

“I love you too,” then, “we had to do this, right?”

“Yes,” she groaned. “We had to. They’re my parents.”

They pulled up, mom’s car and dad’s F-350 in the driveway, her old cheerleading trampoline rusting in the backyard, Jordan’s basketball hoop, with a fresh net, like a dog waiting hopelessly by the window for its master. Jared made jazz hands, “Showtime,” and got out of the car.

Stef opened the door and looked at the pictures in the hall. Stef in her cheerleading outfit, Jordan in their basketball uniform, graduation shots, her dad with his arm around her at the football game. She remembered the family shots that used to be here, her mom wrestling Jordan into a dress, Emmy looking miserable in a shirt and tie, then everyone all cheesy grins.

“We’re here,” she yelled.

Her dad came out first, in his polo shirt and jeans. “Hey, Steffie,” he said, drawing her into him. He wasn’t tall, 5’11”, but years on site had given him first muscles, and now, as a supervisor, pure bulk. Not fat, although he could lose 15 pounds, just heft like a tugboat.

She kissed him on the cheek. “Hey, Daddy. Look,” she said, theatrically waving her hand in his face.

He smiled. “You got a manicure?”

“Very funny,” and she rolled her eyes.

He took her hand. “Look at that,” he said, smiling, then wordlessly hugging her again.

He looked at Jared, “I would’ve liked for you to ask me for her hand before you did it.” You could see the beads of sweat forming on Jared’s forehead, and her dad laughed, “because I would’ve told you that you have to take the whole thing. Daughter parts aren’t worth anything on the market.” He stuck out his hand, “Congratulations you two.” She watched her dad’s eyes just to make sure Jared shook correctly.

Her mom came out of the kitchen, and gave Jared a big hug and kiss. “Congratulations! Welcome to the family!” She watched her father and Jared both tense up, each not eyeballing the other.

Jared gave her another kiss. “Thanks, Laura.”

Her mother took her hand. “This is beautiful, Jared. This was your grandmother’s,” a look passing from her mother to her father, who slumped ever so slightly.

“Um, yeah. When I told her I wanted to propose, she told me to take it. Well, I mean she was kinda drunk at the time.” Stef tensed as another look passed between her parents and she looked at Jared, who was getting flop sweat. “Yeah, no, seriously, she really wanted Stef to have it. She said that grandpa would’ve wanted that. Anyway, I hope you know that I love Stef more than anything and would do anything to make sure she’s always happy.”

What the fuck, she thought. Where is this coming from? Her mother smiled, “I know, Jared. That’s beautiful.”

Her father smiled and looked at her. Then, “Always? Good luck to you, buddy,” which made Stef hit him in the back of the head. Chastened, sort of, “That’s your job. Keep my little girl happy,” and she’d swear she saw a tear in his eye. Then, “who wants a drink? Beer, Jared?” A test that Jared had been passing for the past year or so.

“Umm, sure,” Jared, dreading Old Style (‘my last experience with that involved me facing the bottom of a garbage can’) and breathing a sigh of relief when he brought out a Blue Moon.

“Wine, Steffie?” Her mom asked. “White?”

I don’t drink white, ma, she thought. Have you ever seen me drink white? Then, kicking herself, “Sure, sounds great.”

They sat down and talked about work for a while, then the wedding. “No,” Stef sighed, “we’re not getting married here.”

Her father, jumping in, “That’s fine, honey. Whatever you want,” he smiled, “within reason.”

“Thank you Doug,” her mother spat.

Her dad looked at her. “Laura, come on. They live in Chicago, their friends are in Chicago. It’s crazy for them to drag everyone out here.”

Her mother, staring daggers. “I appreciate the support, Doug.”

Her dad, grinning. “Oh, Linda,” her maternal grandmother, which made Stef laugh.

Her mother, softening, “You don’t have to get nasty about it,” she laughed. “We had always discussed having it here.”

“When? When did we ever discuss that?” Stef said, her tone harsher than intended. She laughed a little. “Sorry, but when?”

“When Cat got married,” her mother said.

“You mean,” she laughed, “when I was a junior in high school? I don't even remember that conversation.”

“You said it was nice,” her mother said. Cat had gotten married at the Hilton, which was fine, if you liked a hotel ballroom.

“I also thought Olive Garden was fine dining,” which made her mother smile slightly.

Jared laughed. “We could get married there. Unlimited salad! And breadsticks!”

A glare from Stef, and a ‘Jared,’ from her father, followed by ‘let me give you some advice if your dad hasn't. Stay out of wedding talk. There are only two possibilities there - worse and more worse.’

Stef, “Jared and I will decide where it's happening. Right?” Her dad looked at her, then at Jared.

“Umm, yup, Stef. You and me,” then, laughing, “mostly you probably.”

Stef, annoyed but refusing to give them the satisfaction. “You're entitled to an opinion, so long as it's mine,” she teased, poking him.

After fifteen more minutes of wedding talk, she excused herself and walked upstairs to the bathroom, conveniently ignoring the downstairs powder room. She walked down the hall, looking at the pictures, the ones from when she was little, the more personal vacation shots.

You have got to be fucking kidding, she thought, as she looked at a shot from Disney World from when she was eleven, the twins seven.

Her, mom, dad, Jordan...and a mysterious set of legs hanging over Dad’s shoulders. Jesus, she thought, really?

She went into her room and sat on the bed, looking around, the room preserved, as if in amber. Her yearbooks, her cheerleading trophies, the four National Honor Society certificates. The Intel Science Search plaque, congratulating her for being a finalist, her project focused on developing a new test for sepsis. She remembered Grandpa Frank in the hospital, with the infection that killed him, how proud Grandma Linda was about her project (‘you have greatness in you,’ she'd said, when she told her about the prize.)

Yeah, she thought, do I still?

“I thought you fell in,” she heard Jared say, as he stood in the doorway, grinning.

“Yeah, no. Sorry to leave you there.”

“It's fine. They were asking me about work,” he laughed.

“You know, they don't understand what you do,” she smiled, as he sat down next to her.

“I don't, why should they?” He grinned, “Check it out, guys, I'm in bed with a cheerleader,” his standard joke whenever they came here. Funny the first six times.

“No, you're in bed with the captain of the team,” she scolded him. “If you're going to tell your friends, at least be accurate.”

He kissed her. “You OK?”

“No, I mean I'm fine, just…”

He touched her shoulder. “She's really into this.”

“I know.”

“And it's not like Jordan's gonna be walking down the aisle.”

“They could,” she said, as she sat up, smoothing down the back of her shirt. “Don't say that.”

He sat up. “You know what I mean. Somehow, I picture Jordan being told where to show up and that's that.”

“We should get back downstairs,” she sighed.

“I was wondering if everything was ok,” her mother said, “you were up there a long time.”

“Maaa,” she moaned, the house making her regress by thirteen years, “it wasn't that long.”

Her mother looked at her. “Oh grow up, do you make that noise at work? Does she do this at home, Jared?”

Jared, eyes darting between the other three, “No, she just tells me to do stuff,” then, imitating her, “Ja-RED, I told you to pick up your socks.”

Her father laughed. “Enjoy it now. But, I know the women in this family. You’ll pay for that later.”

They ate lunch, her father asking questions about prospectuses (‘you really read all of that?’ ‘Yeah, they pay a lot for us to read’) and her mom talking about house closings.

“Do you mind if we go for a walk?” Stef asked, after they had sat for a while. “I feel like walking around the neighborhood.”

“Don't be too long. Come home before it's dark,” her mother joked.

They walked along, Stef staring silently at the houses, Jared walking along next to her. Katie's, not that she'd been inside since homecoming after freshman year of college. The Douglases, whose son had been killed in Iraq, how they stayed still a mystery.

They had turned onto one of the streets, when she saw a man and a woman walking towards them. As they got closer…

“Johnny?” Stef said. “Johnny Harper?” A boy, Emmy and Jordan's year.

The man blushed slightly, while the woman, who was clearly a teenage girl trying to look older, laughed. The man's eyes widened. “Stephanie?” Then, they hugged.

Stef took him in, and she could feel Jared adjusting his posture. “Yup. What are you doing with yourself these days?”

John, smiling. She imagined that smile was quite effective. “I'm in a training program at B of A, retail brokerage. And you?”

“I'm an associate at McDermott Will in Chicago. It's a law firm.”

Jared stuck his hand out, a grin plastered on his face. “I'm Jared Gauss, her fiance.”

As John grinned and shook his hand, Stef said. “Johnny was,” a pause, “the twins’ year.” The girl looked at the two men, then rolled her eyes at Stef. “Hi, I'm Stephanie Nehlen.”

Before the girl could say anything, John piped in, “This is my baby sister,” which got a punch.

“Lee Lee?” Stef said, “I babysat you a few times.”

The girl, 5’9”, 140, with John's blonde hair and blue green eyes, long legs sticking from beneath her dress, smiled tightly. “Liana, and I'm sorry I don't remember you.”

Stef, smiling to disarm her, “I wouldn’t expect that you would. You were about three,” and then, “I’m sorry. My parents did, do, that to me all the time. It’s like, ‘I met them once when I was little. No, I have no idea who they are.’ Anyway, you have to be a junior now.”

John put his arm around her. “She is, and she’s a cheerleader.” Turning to his sister, “Stef was a cheerleader too.” Stef looked at Jared, paused to say something, and stopped him.

Liana, looking at John, “Cool.”

“Is Coach Lynch still there?”

Liana, clearly stifling a yawn. “Nah, I think she retired.” Bitch, Stef thought. Then, she’s seventeen and talking to some woman she doesn’t know, what do you expect?

“Oh well,” Stef smiled. Then, I could outcheer you any day of the week. And that dress has the exact opposite effect you wanted it to have.

“How are Chris and Molly doing?” John said brightly.

“They’re good,” Stef said brightly, taking a second to process about whom he was talking.

“What are they up to?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She wasn’t sure what she could or couldn’t say. “Molly’s name is Jordan now. They're in Indianapolis, working as an assistant construction manager.”

John laughed, telling his sister, “Molly, sorry Jordan, was such a tomboy and always liked going to job sites with her dad.” Liana’s look all but announcing, ‘remember when I said couldn’t care less, oops, I could. “That’s great. And Chris? How’s he doing? I never see him on any of the school groups.”

“In California. Working as a legal assistant. Trying to be an actor.” Saving for a vagina, the usual.

“Well, that’s great,” Johnny said, “anyway, it’s my parent’s 25th today. We just took a break from the party. Say hi to everyone for me,” and they walked away.

After they were out of earshot, Jared laughed, “Well, that was awkward.”

Stef laughed. “You have no idea. Emmy used to have such a crush on him.”

Jared rolled his eyes. “Do you think he knew?”

Stef smiled. “Um, would you have at that age?”

“You could’ve held up a sign and I’d have missed it,” he said, kissing her. “But I got better.”

Stef kissed him back, her arms around his neck. “Sure, sure you did.”

---
On their way home, they decided to stop at Jewel, to pick up non-perishables. It was cheaper out here and besides they could load up the car. They were pushing the cart down the pasta aisle when she heard, “You know there are supermarkets closer to you.”

She turned to see Aunt Jeannie, the one aunt on her dad’s side she could tolerate. “Hey Aunt Jeannie,” and she gave her a hug.

She backed up and waved her hand toward her. “Lemme see.”

Stef swore she would never do it again after the last time, but she held her hand out. “Very nice,” then grinning, “congratulations, you two,” then, grinning devilishly, “my flower girl is getting married.”

Jared smiled, “That’s funny. So are we. Tell her congratulations.”

Jeannie, “Anyone ever told you you’re funny?”

Jared, giving her a kiss, “My mom.”

“She lied. Seriously, we are so happy.” She saw Stef’s eyes dart. “Don’t worry. They,” no need to say who, “shop at the other one. Certain people,” the words dripping with contempt, “shop here.”

Stef rolled her eyes. “Whatever. How’s Uncle Rob, Liam?” She didn’t mention her cousin Robbie, Robbie having joined the ranks of the unnamed.

“Everyone’s good. Looking at schools, you know the drill.”

“I’d be happy to take him to Michigan,” she teased.

“Ummm, are you happy to pay for it?” Notre Dame was one of Michigan’s rivals until they backed out of the series.

“Well, I mean,” and she teased Rob in absentia, “Rob’s school would be a solid - if distant - second choice school. I mean, if Illinois State rejects him.”

Jared smiled, “I’m going to go get toilet paper and water. Do you need anything else?”

Stef smiled at Jeannie. “A big ol’ thing of tampons, the largest they have, like super economy size.” He turned red. “Jeannie, do you need him to get you anything?”

Jeannie smiled. “A big package of pink razors and some flowery shaving cream. Take off the cap and sniff, just to be sure.”

“Ha ha,” he said, as he walked away.

Jeannie laughed. “Well, that was mean of you.”

“Oh, he knows I was kidding. We don’t have the space for that,” her hands resting on the bar of the cart. “What else is going on?”

Jeannie looked around, “I saw Emily.”

Stef smiled. “I know. She told me. What do you think?” Bracing herself.

Jeannie smiled. “She is an absolutely lovely young woman.”

Stef, shocked. “Really? You think so?”

Jeannie, “Absolutely. She is just so sweet, charming and polite and I’m so happy for her. We had a wonderful afternoon with her.”

Stef leaned forward in case one of them decided to brave it here. “What did Uncle Rob have to say,” and she took a deep breath.

Jeannie looked at her. “He feels the same way about her. He has business out there now and made her promise that she’d go to dinner with him.”

“Really? He’s not weirded out? You’re not?”

A glare. “Absolutely not. As far as I’m concerned, she was always Emily.” Stef let out a breath. “Although, and you absolutely cannot repeat this, she looks more like your mom than any of you.”

Stef laughed. “Oh god yeah, but they’d both lose it if they heard you. I mean, she really looks like Aunt Jackie at that age,” remembering a picture of her and mom on the beach.

“I could see that,” then Jeannie got serious, “what’s gonna happen with the wedding?”

Stef, matter of fact but tense, “She’s in it. She’s going to be a bridesmaid.”

Jeannie whistled. “Have you told your mom yet?”

“There’s nothing to tell. My wedding, my sister. How could I not have her?”

“I am behind you one hundred percent for what it’s worth but you know there’s going to be a shit storm, excuse me.”

Stef smiled tightly. “I don’t give a fuck, excuse me,” which got a laugh, “they don’t like it, they don’t have to come.”

Jeannie smiled, “I admire your courage. I question your sanity, but I admire your courage nonetheless. We will be there, assuming we don’t get disinvited with them.”

Stef smiled. “I’m going to put you at a table of normal people.”

“I’m honored.” They saw Jared coming in the distance. “He knows, right?”

Stef smiled. “Oh yeah. He couldn’t deal, he’d be gone.”

“And he’s good with it?”

“He loves her,” having spoken to her on the phone. “He says he still doesn’t know how we have the same parents.”

Jeannie laughed, “You couldn’t have two Emmys or two yous in this family.”

Jared came over, a cart full of water and toilet paper. Stef looked at him. “We don’t have space,” then, “I know it was on sale, but we don’t have space.”

Jeannie laughed. “Just so you know Stef, enjoy it now. Once you get married, he,” and she jerked her thumb back, “won’t set foot in here,” then she kissed them and went off.

Jared looked at her. “Everything good?”

She shrugged and they went to pay.

Emily Berrigan is a 23 year old transwoman, who hasn't seen her twin Jordan in six years. Not since she told her parents the truth about herself and they threw her out. Her older sister is getting married and wants Emily there - as a bridesmaid. Will sparks fly?
----
In this chapter, Emily and Duncan go on a real date, she gets an audition and sees her uncle again. Please let me know if there's interest in my continuing the story.
---
“Hey, Em,” said one of the other assistants, as they stood in the bathroom after work. “We’re headed to the Dublin. Are you interested?”

Emily smiled. “I’ll take a rain check…” It never actually rained here. Maybe they should call it an earthquake check or a mudslide check.

The other woman looked at her. “Who is he?”

“Who is who?” She looked at her reflection in the mirror, checking her teeth. She hated the way fluorescent lights made her already pale complexion look sallow.

The other woman laughed. “Oh, stop. You know who.”

Emily laughed, still checking the mirror. “You can’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t.”

She would and Emily knew she would, but, “His name’s Duncan. He’s a chef. I met him the other night.” She had met him when, in an effort to avoid opening the letter her aunt had left for her the day before they met, she had gone with one of the other waitresses and her boyfriend to a restaurant at which Duncan was a chef. She had come 2,000 miles and met a guy from the Chicago suburbs.

The other woman, married with two kids, laughed, “A chef, huh? What are you and the chef,” said with a leer she didn’t think was possible, “doing?” Emmy saw herself turn pink. “Or what have you done already?”

“We haven’t done anything. I mean, we kissed. But that’s it. And we’re going to Santa Monica. OK?”

The other woman smiled. “OK!” Then, “Santa Monica, really?”

“It’s a first date. At least if the date sucks, we have the pier and the ocean and stuff,” and she began fixing her makeup. “Do I look OK?”

The other woman smiled, “You look cute.”

“Cute?” She looked at herself, her hair down around her shoulders. The white cotton sleeveless eyelet top. She had checked her ass before. She thought she looked good, maybe even hot. But cute?

The other woman smiled, “Cute. Cute is good. Not over the top like…” The name didn’t need to be said. The daughter of one of the firm’s biggest clients had worked as a paralegal for a year, until she got bored, and was utterly useless. In exchange, she was a bitch. “You look really good, Em. Besides, he has to impress you.”

Em smiled. “We’ll see. Anyway, have a good time tonight,” she said, as she put her bag over her shoulder.

It only took her forty minutes to make the seven mile drive from Century City to Santa Monica. She pulled her robin’s egg blue Nissan Fit into a spot on the street, grateful that it was too worthless for anyone to actually steal, then got out and began walking to the Pier to meet Duncan. The woman wasn’t wrong, it was hackneyed as hell but she liked it and it was easy to find besides.

She was ten minutes early, and figured she’d walk to the end of the pier and back, when she heard, “Hey, Emily.” She saw Duncan in front of a sandwich shop, smiling. He was wearing a button down shirt that was tight in the shoulders and jeans, and black lace up shoes. He was 6’3”, 230 pounds. He wasn't fat and he wasn't a muscle head; he was just big. When she met him, she pictured him in high school, an unwilling linebacker or tight end.

“Hey, Duncan,” she said, trying to smile and not grin. “You’re early.”

He had the same awkward smile, his brown eyes somehow shining. “Old habits die hard. I’m glad that we’re able to do this.”

“Me too,” she said, feeling strands of hair in her face, and moving them away. “They give you off Wednesdays?”

He smiled. “It’s not too busy. Plus, I traded. I’m working brunch Sunday.”

She felt her face twist. Everyone hated brunch. The wait staff, because the crowds were big and rude. The chefs, because no one wanted to cook French toast and omelettes. The bartenders, because no one was ordering real drinks - and real drinks meant real tips. “Ooh, sorry.”

He laughed. “It’s fine. It’s a good trade for me,” he said, looking down at her.

She brushed some more hair from her face. “Thanks. So, what are we going to do?”

“So,” he said, “I was thinking. We can either go to one of the places here, get a drink, all that. Or we can walk along and, if, when, we get hungry, one of my friends runs the best Korean BBQ truck you’ve ever had over there.”

And she heard Marissa’s voice - ‘food truck, yecch.’ And Shaye - ‘food truck? Um, see ya.’ And she looked at Duncan and remembered the other night. “Why don’t we walk along and play it by ear? If we want to sit down, we’ll sit down. If we want Korean, we can do that. OK?”

He smiled. Even sober, he had a great smile that made his eyes light up. “Sounds like a plan. So, how do you like working in a law firm?”

And so began the inevitable first date chatter, everyone trying to feel each other out. “It’s good. I mean, I like the people I work with and the work’s easier than waiting tables...how do you like being a chef?”

He laughed. “You know what it’s like. It’s hot and noisy and everyone’s crazy.”

“Do you ever miss finance?” Please say no, she thought. Stef could keep the finance bros.

He laughed. “Not at all. Buncha assholes, excuse me,” which she found endearing, “all trying to show how tough they are. None of them would last a night in a kitchen,” he said, as they began walking along. “So, CalArts, huh?”

“Uh huh,” she said, smiling and looking down. “What about it?”

“How was it? What was it like?”

She looked up at him, and tried to keep one eye where she was walking. “I dunno. It was,” the first place where I was accepted, where I felt comfortable in my own skin, “fun. Very creative.”

“I can imagine,” he said. “So, it’s just artists and actors and dancers?”

She smiled. “Yup. Pretty much.”

“Wow,” he said, “that has to be pretty cool. Like you’re there with the people who are going to make all the shows and stuff...ok, that sounded dorky.”

She smiled, “Not at all. I mean, you don’t really think about it like that, when you’re there. It’s just...school. Classes and stuff. What’s Notre Dame like?”

“Not that,” he laughed. “Definitely not that. Like if there are creative people there, I didn’t know them.”

“Don’t say that,” she said, still looking into his eyes, “you’re creative.”

“Nah. I’m not coming up with a whole series in my head. I’m making reductions and glazes. It’s not the same.” She felt his hand touch hers and she opened it, letting his fingers entwine with hers. There was something about chef's hands that she found alluring, the burns, cuts and scar tissue rough against the skin she spent too much on to keep it soft. “Is this OK?” She nodded. “Cool.”

They kept walking and talking, so much that she didn’t pay attention to the sun setting. “So, there’s three of you?”

“Yes,” she laughed. “Still three of us. Hasn’t changed.”

“And Stef’s a lawyer. And Jordan, she’s…”

“They,” Emily said. “Jordan’s non-binary.”

“Sorry,” he said, and she looked in his eyes to try and discern what he was thinking, “they. They’re in construction management. And you’re the actress.”

She smiled, “You passed the quiz. And there’s you and Niamh. And she’s a senior at Villanova, and wants to be a doctor.”

He grinned. “You passed too,” and he leaned down to kiss her. She opened her mouth and let his tongue in.

He finished. “I’m sorry. I should’ve asked.”

She looked at him. “I opened my mouth. If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have.”

“You’re sure?”

She smiled. “I think you need to kiss me again, just so I’m sure.” This time, she felt his hands around her waist and put her arms on his neck. They kissed and she made a face. “Yup, OK. It’s definitely OK.”

He smiled, “I’ll take OK.” They kept walking. “What about your parents?”

She took a breath. I hate them. They hate me. We haven’t seen each other in six years. “I have them,” she joked.

“What do they do?”

Hate me and wish I was never born. “My dad runs a construction company with his family and my mom works as a law firm administrator.”

“Is that why you became a legal assistant?” His face open and curious, so much so that she had to stop herself.

“Nah, that’s just a coincidence. I needed a job with insurance. Matt was hiring and he’s incredibly cool about auditions.”

“Do you like it?”

“It’s a paycheck. I mean, the people are perfectly nice. When, if my acting career ever hits, I won’t keep doing it.” The wind blew her hair in her face, but she wasn’t going to put it up, not on a first date.

“I get that.”

“And your parents?” She was trying to picture Duncan telling his parents that, after four years of tuition at ND, he wanted to be a chef.

“I have two also,” he grinned.

“Very funny…”

“My dad is a lawyer at Sidley and my mom works in development for Northwestern.”

She laughed, “And neither one of you went there? Like doesn’t she get free tuition or something?” If they could’ve gotten that, that’s where they would have had to go. As it was, they all got scholarships.

He looked at her. “Thanks, dad...yeah, but my dad was like ‘I get it. You want out.”

“I mean,” and she thought about them, how they fought over every dollar, “that’s great, but still…”

He laughed. “They can afford it. You wanna ask him about me becoming a chef, that’s a whole other story.”

“I think it’s cool.”

“Thank you,” he laughed, then he looked at his phone. “Wow, it’s been two hours.”

Shit. Fuck. He’s going to want to leave. “Do you have someplace to be?”

He looked shocked. “No. Not at all. I’ve been having a really good time.”

“Me too.”

“I was just surprised at how fast the time went. Have you ever been on one of those dates that just drags?”

She smiled, “And you’re like, ‘oh just shoot me already?’” And she mimed just that.

“Yeah. Well, this isn’t one of those. Is it?”

She felt the warmth of his hand on hers. “No.”

“So, are you hungry?”

She kept smiling. “I could eat something,” then, to the silent cries of her friends, “you wanna see if your friend’s here?”

They walked back and she saw the truck, ‘Seoul Brother No. 1,’ which was kinda cheesy and she began to regret her decision. The tiger on the side did nothing for her either. He walked up. “Hey!”

A large Asian man, in a bandana and stained chef’s whites came over and stuck out his hand. “Yo, Dunc!”

Grinning, he said, “Meet Emily Berrigan. And Emily, this reprobate is,” and he gave his friend’s name, “we met in culinary school.”

She stuck out her hand and felt the calluses on his. “Hi. Nice to meet you.”

He smiled as he checked her out, which still made her feel good, even as she knew it was wrong and crass. “Well, welcome to Seoul Brother No. 1, where we’re trying to do a Korean barbecue with a Southern twist. Allow me to draw your attention…”

“She is, or was, a waitress,” Duncan said flatly.

“I want to hear the pitch. We’re paying customers,” and she tapped her foot.

They both laughed. “Fine,” Duncan’s friend said, “I’ll do mine if you do yours.”

She put on her best fake smile. “Welcome to Mariposa, is this your first time with us? Well then…,” and she did the pitch, complete with hand gestures. “So?”

“I’m convinced. You, Dunc?”

He took her hand and smiled. “I’m sold.”

Duncan’s friend did his pitch, to the hoots of Duncan and everyone in the truck, one of whom kept calling him ‘maricon,’ (then, looking at Emily, ‘I’m gay, but there’s gay and there’s this’). “How was that?”

She waved her hand side to side. “I didn’t feel it completely.”

His friend laughed, “Fucking actresses. Anyway, let me give you the marinated short rib over the collards, side of mac?”

“Sounds delicious,” she said.

“What do I get, dick?”

He looked at the guy next to him. “What’s about to spoil?”

“Your mom,” the guy said. She was amazed at the way the kitchen repeated itself in the cramped space of the truck. “Give her the bulgogi spiced catfish over the greens. Give him the short rib. They’ll split it and fatboy,” pointing at Duncan, who smirked, “will eat most of it.”

They got their food and left the truck. “Sorry about that,” he laughed.

“About what?” She balanced the drinks in her hands, while he carried the food.

“That’s just them.”

“Are you serious? Do you know how many kitchens I’ve been in? I saw a dishwasher stab a line cook once.”

His eyes widened. “Serious?”

“Oh yeah, I came in to get an order and they were yelling at each other and he stabbed, well grazed, him.”

“So what happened?”

She shrugged. “The chef told the dishwasher to keep washing dishes, made the line cook put on a finger cot and everyone went back to work.”

“What did you do?”

She laughed. “Picked up my order and went back out. No one likes cold food.”

He laughed. “You are something else, Emily,” and they sat down. She took a bite of the catfish, “Oh, wow, this is really good….try it,” and she almost picked up her fork, then stopped herself.

He took a bite, and smiled. “Not terrible.”

“Not terrible? It’s really good.”

He grinned. “I could do it better.”

She raised an eyebrow, “you could do Korean better than him?”

He looked at her, as she took a bite of the ribs. “What are you trying to say?”

Staring back, and grinning, “You know what I’m trying to say.”

She felt his foot brush hers under the table, not sure if it was inadvertent - and not caring. “Are you trying to say that just because I’m a big white kid from Chicago,” the nasal ‘a’ coming out, making her smile in spite of it, “I can’t make this better…”

“Than a Korean kid,” and she tried the mac and cheese, and purposely closed her eyes and smiled, “yep, that’s what I’m saying. I mean,” and she looked down then up, “I’m sure you could do some things better.”

He looked at her, his brown eyes shining. “I can do a lot of things better than he can.”

She felt her throat tighten and her pulse race, and then she remembered. “I’m sure,” she smiled. “I meant in the kitchen.” Very smooth, Emily, she thought.

He kept smiling. “I knew what you meant,” then he took a bite of the short rib, “fuck, this is actually pretty good,” and he reached over for the catfish. “Excuse me.”

She teased, “you take it and then you say excuse me? Wow…”

He turned a little red, which was cute. “Yeah, sorry.”

She reached over and took some greens. “Now, we’re even,” she smiled. Her hair kept blowing in her face, and now little bits of short rib were getting stuck.

He looked at her, fumbling with her hair. “Why don’t you put your hair back?”

“Huh?”

He took another bite, then a sip of his beer. “My sister always has something to tie her hair back in her bag. Don’t you?”

“I do. I just…” And he stared at her, in incomprehension. “OK,” and she put it back, thinking, ‘well, this is too soon.’

He smiled. “That’s better. I mean, unless you want sauce in your hair. Which, if you do, I make no judgments.”

She could hear her friends screaming not to do it, but still she moved over to his side of the table, smiling. “Less wind this way.”

He looked at her, then leaned in. She closed her eyes and could taste catfish and ribs and beer. She debated - hands on bench or hands on his waist? Bench is definitely first date, she thought. Not too forward, not too needy. And then she felt his hands on her waist. Waist it is, she smiled to herself.

They pulled away. “Just so you know,” she laughed. “That was definitely OK.”

“Good.” They finished eating and she began clearing up, sweeping crumbs off the table into her hands. “You know, the wind does a pretty good job of getting those.”

She smiled, as she picked up everything. “Old habits die hard.”

“Am I supposed to leave a tip then?” She liked the way his back muscles stretched across the shirt, the shirt she wanted off of him in the worst way. But, it was a first date and she needed to be honest. “Because I’m kinda short of cash.”

They walked back to the pier and walked along, looking at the tacky stores. She caught her reflection in the window of one. Aunt Jeannie was right, she did look cuter with her hair up. She wondered what everyone saw, what they were thinking.

After four hours, he walked her to her car. “You know,” she said, leaning against the door, “you didn’t have to do this.”

He smiled. “Yeah, I did. It’s too late for you to be walking around here by yourself.”

Looking up at him, “I can handle myself.” God knows, I’ve had to when no one else was willing to help.

Still smiling, “I’m sure you can. But I just wanted to be sure you were OK.”

Now, his hand was on the roof of her car. She liked the way he splayed his fingers out across the top. “Thank you,” then, “are you sure that you’ll be OK walking to yours? I can drive you…”

He smiled, leaning forward, “I think I can make it.”

Her pulse raced again, and she felt herself getting warm, wondering if she needed her levels checked again. “That’s good.”

“So I’m going to kiss you again, if that’s OK,” he laughed.

She pursed her lips to the side, and tapped her foot. “Mmm, OK,” she laughed, as she felt his hands around her waist, the calluses through her shirt.

They kissed and he pulled away. “I’d like to see you again.”

She smiled, still warm. Nope, definitely not my levels, she told herself. “I’d like that.”

“I’ll call,” he said, as he walked away. “Get home safely.”

“You too,” she said, as she got into the car, smiling to herself.
--
She walked in and Marissa looked at her. “I’m guessing it went well?”

Emmy smiled, putting her bag on the counter and taking off her shoes. “No, I spent four hours with him and it sucked.”

Marissa actually leaned forward. “And?”

“And nothing. We had a great time. I really like him,” she said, as she walked into her room to change.

Marissa followed her in. It had taken Emily a while to get used to changing in front of her, even though Marissa knew, had known since before they moved in together. Even now, Emmy would still turn around before taking off her panties. “Are you going to see him again?”

Emmy pulled up her shorts and put on her t-shirt, a faded Dodgers shirt from some long ago guy in college. She wanted to send a picture to Jordan, just to torture them. “He says he wants to. And I want to,” and she smiled.

Marissa sat on the edge of the bed. “That’s great, Em,” then looking at her, “what’s wrong?”

Emily looked at her, as she took a wipe and began removing her makeup. “You know.”

Marissa played with the stuffed bear Emily had won at that carnival in Santa Barbara, when the guy at the booth had said, ‘so easy even she can win it,’ and then winked at her. “You’re not there yet,” she said, matter of factly.

“Yeah, but before we get there, he has the right to know.” The truth of ‘why’ going unsaid.

“I guess. See how it goes next time and then you decide.” Emily thought back to his hand in hers, the way it felt so big, so right and she smiled. “You really like this guy?”

“Yeah, I think I could,” and then she described the date.

“You go there so easily,” Marissa laughed.

Emily, busted. “No I don’t.”

Marissa, “Oh please. I’ve known you how long?”

Emily, more busted. “Well, I like him regardless,” then, “how was work?” Marissa worked at an ad agency as an assistant copywriter.

“Fine,” she laughed, and then she talked about a client.

--
The next day, at 6:00 PM, her phone pinged. “Where’s my phone call? :-)” Aunt Jeannie.

“I just got off work”

“Wrong answer,” with another smiley.

“Ill call when Im in the” car emoji. “Commute is long”

“Grrr...fine.” Emily froze at the period. Was she pissed? She had no reason to be.

When she was in the car, she called her, “Hey,” then a pause, “Jeannie.”

Jeannie. “Hey, sweetie. How was it?”

“Are you upset with me?”

Jeannie, confused. “No. Why would I be?”

“You ended the text with a period.”

Jeannie, “How do you end a sentence?”

“I just thought..I don’t usually do it.”

Jeannie, silent for a second. “Neither does Liam apparently. It’s a failure of the Dekalb schools, I guess. Anyway, I didn’t call to discuss punctuation.”

“I think people don’t discuss it enough,” she said, as she pulled out of the lot, turning the wheel hand over hand to make the right turn out of the lot.

Jeannie made a buzzing noise. “Wrong answer. So how was it?”

“It was,” and she paused, wondering how much to say, what would get back, “good.”

“Good? Good isn’t good, unless that means something else.”

She paused again. Fuck it, she thought. I don’t care what they know. I don’t have to see any of them. “It was...very good.”

She could hear Jeannie leaning forward. “Very good is better.”

Emily. “It was better than very good then.” She knew that she would come to regret this conversation, that it would come back to bite her. Then, she felt the butterfly necklace Jeannie had surprised her with (‘I owe my niece a lifetime of birthday presents’) against her collarbone. “It was much better than very good.”

“That is wonderful, Emmy,” the diminutive still making her feel warm. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Really?”

A sigh. “Yes, really. I know you really don’t know me yet.” Yet? “But I only want you to be happy.”

“Thank you,” Emily said, silently cursing the stalled car in the left lane. She watched as cars slowed down to look at the stalled car. It’s a stalled car in L.A. Unless the engine block is poking out, move it along.

Jeannie laughed. “‘Thank you.’ Am I the cashier at Osco? Come again!”

“Shut up,” and she paused. Too informal? “I mean...thank you for wanting me to be happy.”

Another sigh. “This is the absolutely last time I’m saying this. You may not trust me yet, but I am not them.”

“I know,” Emily said, “you never were.” Remembering a day-after-Thanksgiving where Jeannie let her hide in the guest room to color.

“And I won’t be. Here we go - I am your aunt. You are my favorite niece. End of story.”

‘Favorite niece’ making her smile an inordinate amount. “You’re my favorite aunt.”

A laugh, “That’s not much of a title to be honest, given the competition.”

Emily, laughing. “Who am I competing against?”

“There’s more of you, but yeah, I guess it really isn’t a compliment, when you think about it.”

Emily, “Hey!”

“I’m kidding, Emmy. You always were my favorite, by a lot. Don’t tell Stephanie.”

Emily, now grinning from ear to ear despite the traffic, the homeless man weaving between the cars with his battered cardboard sign. “I won’t.” He came past her window and she shook her head, sorry she didn’t have change.

“Good. Now I told you last week. I need details. Please. Everything….well, as much of everything as you want to tell me.”

Emily, grasping at the conversation like a lifeline, “There’s not a lot of that everything...yet,” and then she described the date, happy to describe it and sad at the same time. Eventually, Uncle Rob got on to call Duncan a yo yo (‘Duncan is a company that made yo yos). Emily hung up, happy.
—-
Two days later, as she lay in bed, she got a text, “u up”

Duncan. “:-)”

“:-) r u busy”

“N”

The phone rang. “Hi,” she said, grinning from ear to ear, like a dork. She stared at a picture of her and her friends at graduation, gowns open, mortarboards at angles.

“Hi. Sorry I haven't called but I've been mad busy.”

“It's ok,” she said. “Work is crazy?”

“Yeah, one of the prep cooks quit, so I've been working crazy hours. I've wanted to call.”

She loved his openness. Six years of LA, and six years of industry wannabes, had conditioned her to expect irony and studied aloofness. “It's ok. You're calling now.” And she kicked herself some more.

“So, anyway, what are you doing Monday?”

“You don’t have to work?”

He laughed, “Nah, I have off. Slow day. They don’t need me.”

She stared at her feet. She needed a pedicure, badly. “I’m not busy. What were you thinking?”

“I dunno. A friend of mine was telling me about a cool exhibit at LACMA,” the modern art museum. In her mind, she heard Stef laughing, ‘trying to show he’s got culture.’

She rolled onto her stomach and looked at the wall, the picture of Joshua Tree she found at a crafts fair. “That sounds fun. I can meet you there. 7:00? I mean, subject to traffic on Pico,” she laughed.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“I can’t wait.” Stef, now screaming and shaking her head. Say goodnight, Stef, she thought.

--
Monday afternoon, she was sitting at work, waiting for the clock to strike 6:00, not that clocks struck anything anymore, when her phone rang.

“Emily Berrigan,” she said brightly.

“Hey Ems, it’s Shaye.” One of her two best friends from college.

“Hey, Shaye, what’s going on?” She played with her pen.

“I just heard about an open call audition for a commercial. For Axe body spray.”

Her face twisted. “Yuck.”

Shaye, laughing, “Not for you to wear, stupid. They need girls for the commercial and it says that they’re looking for girls who look high school/college.”

Emily, laughing. “We graduated, remember? I know you got pretty messed up that night but still…”

Shaye, “Ha ha, Ems. I mean, you could totally pull off college. I can’t, because I’m too,” and she laughed, “sophisticated.”

“Yeah, that’s it,” then, looking at her reflection in her screen, “you really think I could pull it off?”

“Oh, totally,” she said. “With your hair up and light makeup, you totally look 19.”

“I dunno,” she said. “Axe, though?”

“Ems, it’s your card,” her SAG-AFTRA card. “Get the job and you can work union.”

“You really think I could pull off college?” She started thinking about what she should wear to the audition. Her blue cotton dress? Maybe a t-shirt and shorts? Or was that trying too hard?

“Totally, sweetie. You could totally be the all-American college girl,” and then she laughed. “You have that Midwestern thing going.”

“I’m not sure how to take that.”

“Me either,” she laughed. “I’ll send you the call.”

“Thanks, honey. I really appreciate it. If I hear of anything requiring someone sultry and exotic, you know who I’ll call first.” Then, she hung up the phone and grinned.

“What’s up?” Matt, her boss, asked.

“My friend just called me and told me about an open call.”

He held out his hand for a high five. “That’s great! For what?”

“Oh, it’s a commercial for Axe. But, it’s union…”

He looked at her. “Em, that’s great. Who cares what it’s for? When you’re famous, they’ll show it as your first appearance on TV.”

She smiled. “Thanks, Matt.”

He smiled, looking like he wanted to touch her shoulder, but #metoo, not that it was that. “In six months, you better not be at that desk.”

Her stock response. “That’s the plan.”

“I wanna see you on Fallon talking about the great boss you had,” he laughed.

Her, “You know I can’t lie like that.”

Him, grinning. “You’re an actress who works at a law firm. You can lie. Seriously, though, that’s great. Michelle,” his wife, “will be so happy.”

“Let me get it first,” she said.

He looked around, then at her. “You will. I have a good feeling.”

“Thanks,” and she thought about how one day she'd miss his support and who could replace him and his wife.

A week later, she found herself in an office park, at some clearly abandoned telemarketing space. You could see the outlines of the removed cubicles on the floor and she could, ‘I'm sorry to bother you during dinner,’ being said ad infinitum. She had worked tele-marketing in college, fired when she wasn’t able to harass enough people into extending warranties on appliances.

She looked at the other girls. Even after six years, she still couldn't fathom the number of gorgeous blondes here. Back east, they would have men trailing them like dogs in heat, their choice of jobs. Here? They were interchangeable.

You can do this, Emily, she told herself. If all they wanted was some OnlyFans girl, they could do this without an open call. They don't want just that, they want something else. And she looked at them, in their short skirts. You don't look like college girls, she thought, you look like strippers. Emily looked down at her blue and white striped dress, the one with the short sleeves and that buttoned up the front. And her flats. After agonizing, she decided to wear her hair in a ponytail. And light makeup, a little lip gloss, some eyeliner, some blush. She had tested how young she looked by going into a liquor store and getting carded, the clerk continuously looking back and forth between her and her ID, and then handing it back with “I can't lose my license.” You can do this, she told herself. You can pull this off.

After four hours, she was called in to the casting room. Sitting there were three people in their thirties, looking somewhere between bored and suicidal. You are a college girl, she told herself. Not CalArts, but a regular school. She remembered Ann Arbor and that cute boho dress. That's you, she said to herself. She handed over her headshot, the one her Christmas bonus had paid for. One of the three looked at it and yawned. “Name?”

It's on there, she thought, then no. Affecting a slight Chicago accent, not so heavy as to grate. “Hi,” she said brightly, “I'm Emily Berrigan.”

Barely looking at her, “Where are you from?”

“Dekalb,”’she said, going wide-eyed, “Illinois. Thank you so much for seeing me,” and she shuffled ever so slightly.

“Mmm hmmm.” So much for that. “Can you read the side,” and she took it from him.

“Gosh, Johnny,” and she went wide-eyed, “you smell,” like ego mixed with misogyny, “great!”

The woman at the table wrote some stuff down, then, “we'll let you know.”

More aww-shucks, “Well, thank you…”

The woman, “we'll let you know.”

She left. We'll let you know? Why not just tell me ‘fuck off?’

She left, feeling dejected. It was a cattle call and the odds were hella against her, but they didn't even acknowledge her. She wasn't even a piece of meat. She was just a loose thread they found on their clothes. She got into the car, dreading the conversations with everyone, their hollow affirmations. She watched another girl, some pneumatic blonde, get out of her car. This Amazon bitch, in her blue minidress, walked across the parking lot like she owned it.

Ten minutes later, she was pulling onto the highway, chanting ‘you can do this’ to herself.

---
Three days later, she was at work when Ariana Grande’s ‘7 Rings’ started playing, and one of the senior attorneys walking passed glared at her. She quickly silenced her phone and looked at the screen - ‘Anonymous.’ Great. Mortified by a spam call. She ignored the phone as it vibrated across her desk. A minute letter, ‘Missed call - voicemail’ appeared on her screen. Great, she thought, not only do they waste my time on calls about the warranty on my seven year old car, they clog up my voicemail.

An hour later, she got up to go to the bathroom, taking her phone with her. As she sat down in the stall, she saw the voicemail indicator. Why the fuck not, she thought, may as well as delete it before it gets full again.

She hit ‘play- “Hi Emily, this is Rachel, from Blah Blah Blah Productions,” the people that ran the stupid audition. “I wanted to let you know that the client decided to go another way…” Fuck you. “However…” However? However? Now she paid attention. “We have another campaign that I think might be better suited for you and,” then she left her number. Emily let out a scream. “Everything OK in there?” She heard a voice say nervously.

Emily bounced out of the stall, pushing down the handle with her foot, and coming face to face with one of the female attorneys in her 30s. “I didn’t get a callback on a commercial…”

The woman stared at her as if she were trying to figure out how to defuse a bomb. An auburn haired 5’6” bomb in a green dress. “Ummm, congratulations?”

Emily, grinning from ear to ear. “Sorry. That part sucked, but then they said that they might have something better suited to me.”

The woman relaxed slightly and smiled, “That’s good?”

“Yes, sorry. You must think I’m totally nuts but I have never, ever had this happen. This doesn’t happen. None of my friends have ever had it happen but it happened.”

The woman backed up slightly. “Cool,” as her eyes looked around then up, as if she was going to escape through the drop ceiling. “I mean, that sounds really positive. Let me know how it goes…”

Emily thanked her, dancing out of the bathroom, humming to herself.
---
“So,” she said, when she met Shaye and Marissa for drinks that night, “I called her and she said that the client wanted ‘Axe girls’....” Marissa held her hands out from her already not insubstantial chest. “Exactly,” Emily continued, “and she was like, ‘you are too sweet looking to be part of that,” which got an ‘awww,’ from her friends, “shut up, I’m talking here but then she was like, ‘you don’t want to be part of that anyway, have you ever seen an Axe girl anywhere but Playboy, no you haven’t, which is kind of fucked up because she works for them but whatever….”

Marissa, rolling her hand, “Em, while we’re young…”

“I’m getting there,” she exhaled, “and then she said, ‘but we have a campaign that I think you might work for. It’s for Best Foods mayonnaise…”

Shaye, grinning, “Mayonnaise is perfect for you.”

Emily, sticking her tongue out, “Actually, she said it was because I was sophisticated and exotic...anyway, so she told me that they were looking for someone with that all American look, and she scheduled an audition.”

“Yay, Ems” everyone said, and gave her kisses and hugs. “That’s so amazing.”

Em looked down at her chest. “I still think I should…”

Marissa looked at Shaye, and then Em. “We are so not having this conversation again…”

“You weren’t in the room with all those girls,” she said, looking around the room.

Shaye rolled her eyes. “I have been in plenty of those rooms. You would look ridiculous if you got them..”

Em looked down again, she was a full B cup. “You had to see them. I think it’s costing me parts.”

“No. We are not going there. You don’t need them,” then, raising her glass, “we are celebrating you actually getting called to audition. I am so happy for you.” While Shaye was hoping for her big break, she was fetching drinks as a PA on some shitty series (‘I don’t even know what platform it’s on, but whatever.’)

Em grinned. “That’s right. We are celebrating me,” and she thrust her chest out, to giggles and eyerolls. “So, celebrate. Come on,” and she spread her arms wide. Everyone raised their glasses and then purposely ignored her.
--
“Hey,” she said, as she stood on tiptoes to kiss Duncan. “I know you.” They had agreed to meet at the Getty Center, to walk around the gardens, since they were both going to be in Century City and it was close by. She had been to the Getty a bunch of times, but it still amazed her, the way that they had carved this beautiful garden out of two ridges, facing the ocean and the San Gabriels.

He put his hands around her waist. “Do I know you?”

She was wearing her blue dress with the spaghetti straps, with a cardigan over it, sandals and her round sunglasses. Third date, a dress was OK, she decided. “Nope,” she said, “I must have been mistaken.”

Duncan grinned, “Well, whoever he is, he’s not here. So whaddya say?”

She took him in, in his t-shirt and dark blue jeans. Who, she thought, decided that he can get away with that? Then, she checked out his pecs and crotch. “I have nothing better to do,” and she took his hand. “So, how was work today?”

He had covered a lunch shift at one of the owner’s places in Century City. “Why didn’t you stop by? I could’ve hooked you up…”

“I had a brief to type and Mark was being psycho AF, and besides can you imagine what they would have said had I come in?”

He smiled, “You still should have. I would’ve liked to have seen you.”

She grinned and kissed him again. “You’re seeing me now. Did you go home after lunch?”

“Nah,” he said, “I hung around. Went to the mall, walked around. That kind of thing.”

She was telling him today. She had resolved to do it last time, but she was doing it today. He deserved to know, she had reasoned to herself, Stef telling her ‘to be careful,’ Jordy wishing her luck. He took her hand and they started walking. She never got tired of the bougainvillea, its hot pink flowers and beautiful smell. She had tried it once as perfume, but it was overpowering at such close range.

A half an hour in, after they walked the hedges, she decided it was time. If it was going to go south, let it go south while the sun was out and people could see them, but far enough from anyone so that they couldn’t hear. She took a deep breath, “I have something I need to tell you.”

He looked at her, with puppy dog eyes. “What did I do?”

She pulled her sweater around her. “You didn’t do anything.”

“I really like you, Emily,” he said, his face so open, so genuine, so not L.A.

“I really like you too, Duncan, which is why I need to do this.” She felt tears and was willing them back, unsuccessfully.

“Do you not want to see me again?” Now, he took a step back and was looking her up and down. She cursed her outfit, wanting nothing more than to hide.

“I do,” she said. “But I need to tell you something and when I do, you may not feel that way.”

“You’re married?” He smiled.

“Please let me speak,” and she felt her throat tightening. “Please.”

He took her hand. “It can’t be that bad.”

Let’s see what you say next. “It isn’t. But it is. Or it may be,” she found herself stammering and she started to cry. He hugged her, enveloped her in his bulk, and it felt like a cocoon, one she never wanted to leave. But she knew she needed to, if this had any hope of surviving. She pulled back, fingering the butterfly necklace. She took another breath. “I’m trans,” she said, opting for that over ‘assigned male at birth.’ No matter what they said at group, that was bullshit, like she went to school for it or something.

She looked into his eyes and couldn’t read anything. Some actress you are, she thought. They stood there for an eternity and he said, “Wow.”

“Wow?” She suddenly felt exposed to the world, and watched his hands, which remained flat at his sides.

“Yeah, wow.” He didn’t move.

She looked down. “I totally get it. I understand. Well, thank you for not yelling or...anyway, yeah, I’m sorry. You’re a great guy and I hope you find the woman you deserve,” and she began walking away, trying not to cry until she got to her car.

“Stop,” he said. “Where are you going?”

She turned around, staying a couple of feet back. “You said ‘wow’ and I thought…”

He, standing in place, “I didn’t say leave.”

“But you said, ‘wow.’”

He gave a sickly smile. “It’s kinda wow worthy, y’know?”

Her cardigan slipped off her shoulder and she caught him looking. “I...I’m sorry.”

He looked at her, moving a step closer. “For what?”

“I didn’t tell you,” she said, looking down.

“It’s OK,” he mumbled, not looking at her. “I mean, I get it. It’s scary, I imagine, telling people.” People milled around them, not giving them a second glance.

“It is,” and she watched an ant walk along. “Thank you. I didn’t want to lie to you.”

He walked over, so that he was fully in her space and she felt his shadow over him. “You didn’t lie to me.”

“But, we kissed and stuff.”

He watched his shadow shrug. “Uh huh.”

“And you kissed me.”

He smiled. “I did.”

“But, you thought you were…”

“Kissing Emily Berrigan. You are Emily Berrigan, right?”

She sniffled. “Um, yeah…but…”

He looked at her. “I don’t care about the past.”

“You don’t?” She felt herself sweating.

“I don’t. I told you. I really, really like you.”

He was blurry through her tears. “I really, really like you,” she said.

“Then, that’s what matters.”

She looked at him, and his face was still a blank slate. “Really? But you thought…”

“Don’t tell me what I thought,” he sounded annoyed.

“But…”

“I don’t think anything. I mean, I wasn’t expecting this…”

She looked down. “Obviously.”

He put his hand under her chin and pushed up. “Look at me, please. I like you. You like me,” and she nodded. “This doesn’t matter to me.”

She didn’t believe him. She wanted to, but didn’t. “OK.”

He took her hand and they walked silently around the gardens. “So, your parents…”

She went to cut him off. “Are not OK with me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, tightening his grip on her hand.

She shrugged. “It is what it is. I have Stef and Jordy, that’s what counts.” He paused, mouth open, like he was about to say something, then stopped. Fuck, she thought. Softly, she said, “You can ask, say, whatever, you want,” and she braced herself.

“I just can’t imagine not wanting you in their life.” She wasn’t expecting that, and started to tear up. “Don’t do that,” he mock-yelled.

“That was really nice. Why did you stop yourself?”

He looked down. “Because it sounds dorky. Because it’s our third date and I was afraid that you’d think it was too soon, too push…”

And she stood on tiptoes and kissed him, grateful for his dorkiness. “It doesn’t. It isn’t.”

Then, he smiled and put his hands around her waist. “Cool.” She let her cardigan drop from her shoulders and he kissed her again.

---
The next morning, her phone rang as she was deciding what to wear. “You were supposed to text me.”

Stef. Shit. She flicked through her closet, trying to decide between the cute cinnamon-colored day dress or jeans. “I know. And I’m sorry. But it was late….”

Stef. “I was worried about you.” An undercurrent of worry masked her tone of anger.

Jeans. Definitely jeans today. White jeans. And a pale green camisole. “I know. I know. And I should have. But we were…”

Stef. “Well, the important thing is you’re OK. Did you tell him?”

She slid the jeans up her legs, checking out her ass and smiling. “Yes.”

“And?” Now exasperated.

“He was...really cool about it,” she said, putting the phone on her dresser while she put on her camisole. “Hang on, I’m putting you on speaker.”

“He was cool about it?” Her now tinny voice sounded surprised. Not that it was undeserved, all things considered, remembering Kevin from junior year.

She put on eyeliner. “I mean I think he was definitely shocked at first but, yeah, he was really good.”

She heard Stef take a breath. “Are you going to,” pause, “see him again?”

Em laughed. “Yes.” Probably. He said that he’d call, make plans for the weekend. Now, she put on foundation, blotting in on with the little pad.

“I am so happy for you.” Em looked over at the birthday card Stef had sent her for first birthday out here - one little girl pulling another little girl's pigtails and ‘to the best little sister in the world’ - tucked in her mirror and smiled. “You have no idea.”

Em smiled. “I do. Thank you. Do you know how much I love you?”

“Yes,” Stef laughed, “but you can tell me anyway.”

“You are the best big sister. You know that, right?” Now she put on blush, then brushed her hair, admiring her handiwork.

“I do. And I love you too. Anyway, back to the grind. I’ll call later.”

---
Emily stood in front of the audition panel, the woman who called her, one guy in his twenties leaning forward and a guy in his forties, who looked like a lifetime of bad choices had him here. They were in a bare rehearsal room, all whitish walls, floor lamps and a dance barre along the wall. She imagined a whole room full of lissome girls trying out to be dancers, each rejected for short legs or five pounds extra.

“OK,” the woman said brightly, “you’re a waitress in a busy diner, it’s lunch time, understand?”

Emily was wearing a white long-sleeved cotton shirt, black skirt a couple of inches above the knee and flats. Not exactly diner material, but she wasn’t going to rent a uniform. She smiled knowingly. “Um, yeah, I think so.” She studied her side and then put it down.

Standing at any imaginary table, holding an imaginary pad, “OK, that’s one cheeseburger and fries, one Cobb salad and one turkey on rye with Best Foods mayo.”

She then turned around and did a sort of pirouette around an imaginary waitress coming the other way. “Stop,” said the guy in his forties, “what are you doing?”

Emily smiled. “I was just picturing another waitress coming…”

He looked at her. “Does it say anywhere that there’s another waitress coming and you’re a ballerina…”

Guy in his twenties. “Interesting choice,” he said, not quite believably. “But, how about you just walk?”

I’ve been walking since I was one, she thought. “Got it.” She went back to the imaginary table, took the imaginary order and then, ringing an imaginary bell, said, “C.B. fries, turkey whiskey down with Best Foods mayo.” I don’t know where this diner is, she thought, but I’ve never heard anyone say any of this. All that was missing was gum to crack.

Then, she repeated this for three different orders - ‘turkey club with Best Foods mayo,’ ‘ham and cheese with Best Foods mayo,’ ‘coffee, black, with Best Foods mayo.’ She’d grown up in the Midwest and had never seen this much mayo.

She finished, “Best Foods brings out the best in everything,” and she smiled and winked.

The three at the table huddled together. The woman, impassively, “we’ll let you know.”

Fuck, you brought me in here, she thought. “Thank you,” and she walked out.

She called Duncan on her way to the car. “Hey Em.” They were at the shortened name, not the pet name, phase. “How did it go?

“Eh,” she said, her shoes crunching the gravel of the parking lot. “We’ll see.”

“Are you upset?” His voice was one of concern, uncertain of how much was acceptable.

“Nah,” she said, as she pressed the key fob, the ‘boop boop’ opening the door. She threw her bag on the passenger side and plugged in the phone. “It’s an audition, you can’t really get upset.”

“I hear you,” then he laughed, “Quite frankly, you don’t really want to work in a diner. The tips are awful.”

She laughed. “Thank you. Whatever will be, y’know? When do you get off later?”

“Usual. 11 or so,” he said. “Why?”

She looked in her rear view mirror and smiled. “If you wanted to come over…”

She could hear the wheels turn. “I mean, I may be really tired…”

She touched up her lip gloss. “Oh well, if you’re going to be tired…”

“I mean, I suppose I can see how I’m feeling…”

She felt herself getting warm. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to,” she teased.

“This isn’t just a booty call, is it? Because I’m not just some piece of meat,” he huffed theatrically.

She smiled, thinking of the other night. “Yes you are.”

He paused. “Oh yeah, that’s right, I am. Never mind. Figure 11:30?”

She smiled and looked down at her legs. “I can’t wait.”

-
Fuck, she thought, as she stared at Matt’s notes for his brief. Could your handwriting suck worse? Not that she couldn’t read it but she was tired and hated bringing work home. At least he let her correct grammatical mistakes when she saw them, unlike some of the other partners. You wanna look like an idiot, she’d think, be my guest.

Not that she minded working at home. All those years in restaurants had made her a night owl, more alert at 9:00 at night than 9:00 in the morning. Plus, no one was standing over her, asking questions or talking about a date. Just her and the computer, her fingers flying across the keys, the words becoming just a collection of letters to be proofread after. She was so absorbed in her work that she didn’t hear the phone until the third ring.

“Hello,” she said, “I mean, Emily Berrigan.”

“Hi, Emily, it’s,” the woman, “from Blah Blah Blah Productions,” she said brightly.

“Um, hi. How are you?”

A laugh. “I’m fine but not as good as you.”

“Huh?”

Another laugh. “We’re calling to offer you the job…” Which made Emily let out a scream of joy. “So, I take it you’re happy…”

“Ohmigosh, ohmigosh, ohmigosh,” and she started hyperventilating. “Ohmigosh, ohmigosh, ohmigosh, that’s so amazing.”

The woman, now laughing, “OK, OK, calm down. It’s scale…”

“I don’t care, that’s so amazing. Thankyouthankyouthankyou. I thought you didn’t like me.”

“Why did you think that?”

“Well, I mean I did that move and then the other guy got annoyed and the other guy said just walk and then you just sat there…”

A laugh. “You did great, sweetie. I’ll send over contracts via email. You’ll Docusign…”

Of course, I will. “Uh huh.”

Another laugh. “Tell you what, go pour yourself a drink or pop an edible and celebrate. Everything will be in the email.”

“Thank you. Good night. Thank you,” she gushed, as she hung up. She started running in place, arms pumping, eyes closed, and turned to face Marissa.

“I heard the screaming….”

Before she could ask it was OK, “I GOT IT! I. Got. The. Commercial,” and she began jumping up and down, Marissa joining her.

“That is so amazing! I am so happy for you,” and Marissa hugged her. “This is so amazing!”

“I know! Ohmigod, a commercial. I mean, it’s regional. Because back home it’s called Hellman’s and not Best Food, but it’s a commercial….”

Marissa, grinning. “It is. And I am so proud of you.” She went to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of Two Buck Chuck from Trader Joe’s. “It’s not champagne,” she laughed.

“I don’t care. I don’t care. I don’t care. I got a commercial. I got a commercial. Wanna see me do it?”

She had heard her practicing already. “Sure,” with an indulgent smile.

“OK, go sit over there.”

Marissa, eyes rolling, sat at the kitchen counter and let Emmy do her thing. She finished and Marissa looked at her. “Excuse me, but I didn’t order this. I can’t have mayo. I have a food allergy.”

“Too bad. You’ll eat your whiskey down or whatever with Best Foods mayo and like it,” she teased. “We have Epi-Pens in the back.” Then, dancing and singing, “I got a commercial. I got a commercial.”

She texted Jordy, it was too late for Stef, “guess who got a commercial”

“gordon ramsay” followed by three tongue out emojis.

“Idiot me”

Five smiley face emojis followed by, “wut for”

“Best Foods,” making sure to capitalize it, since they were paying, “mayo”

“never heard of it”

“Wut they call hellmans here”

“Kewl im so proud of u Emmy”

“Thx”

“U r welcome call tomorrow”

“Is kira there” followed by hearts, peaches and eggplants.

“bye Emmy” followed by three tongue outs. “Kira sez kewl too”

“Thx kira” followed by more hearts. She pictured Kira lying in bed next to them, her head on their chest, while Jordy talked about the commercial and wondered what she would think. She was an actress after all and looking for work like everyone else.

----
“Hi, Rob,” Emily said, picking up her phone. “What’s going on?”

“So, I’ve got to be out there next week on the project and wanted to know what you were doing Tuesday night.”

“Um,” she paused, “let me check my calendar,” she lied. She had no plans. Tuesday night, she never had plans, it was a work night. “I’m, uh, free.”

“Good,” he said happily. “Then, we’re going to dinner.”

“You and me,” she said nervously.

He laughed. “Yes, you and me. Just you and me. Is that OK with you?”

“Sure. I mean that would be great.” Or awful, either one. “Where do you want to go?”

“I hear Duncan’s place is pretty good…” She began breathing shallow breaths. “Oh god,” he laughed, “I’m teasing you, Emily. Relax. Where would you like to go?”

She stuck her tongue out. “Is there some type of food you want?”

He laughed. “You and Jeannie, Christ. I’ll name a food, then you’ll say no and then I’ll ask you, and you’ll say I’m easy. But fine, I’ll play your game. Mexican. You mentioned really good Mexican food someplace. So that’s what I want,” then a pause, “unless you want something else.”

“Mexican sounds good,” she smiled. “Where are you staying? There’s no reason for both of us to drive there.” He gave her the address and she wrote it down, saying, “let me know that day how your day is going and we’ll plan from there. Does that work?”

Tuesday afternoon, she was at work, when her phone rang. Rob. Maybe he was busy, she thought, and wanted to reschedule. “Emily Berrigan,” she said, not thinking.

A pause, “hey Emily Berrigan, it’s Rob Nehlen.”

“Ha ha...what’s up? How’s your day going?”

“I’m running a little long…”

Putting on her best sad voice, “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Do you need….”

He stopped her. “You’re not that lucky. I was just going to ask if you could meet at the job site…”

At the words ‘job site,’ everything came flooding back, every snicker, every comment. Fuck, fuck, fuck. No, Emily, put on your big girl pants, she told herself. “Sure, no problem. What’s the address?”

You can do this, she told herself on the drive over. She put on her freshman year mix, all Katy Perry and Taylor Swift, singing along to “Shake it Off” and “Firework.” If Stef and Jordy were here, she wouldn’t hear it over the laughter, but they weren’t. By the time she got to the site, she was singing that stupid song, “Fight Song,” the one Hillary played at her rallies, knock off Taylor Swift but her favorite at 17.

And then she saw the trailer.

Fuck.

No. No fucks, Emily, she said, as she picked up her bag and swung her legs out, walking across the parking lot like she belonged, quickly enough to stop her knees from knocking. She tapped on the door. “Come in,” she heard a female voice say.

She walked in and saw a dark haired girl in her early 20s at the desk, wearing a blue sleeveless top and jeans. She remembered a long time ago and wondered if that outfit came with the trailer. The girl looked her up and down, taking in her short blue skirt and white short sleeve shirt, and she felt sweat form on her forehead. “Hi, I’m here to see Rob Nehlen.”

She looked her up and down again, clearly trying to decide, ‘side piece,’ ‘her replacement,’ ‘DOL investigator.’ “And you are?” Her apathy, palpable.

“I’m, um, Emily, Emily Berrigan, his,” pause, “niece.”

With that, the woman broke into a giant grin. “He has been waiting all day for you!” She stood up and put out her hand.

Emily shook it uncertainly, but smiled, “He’s been waiting all day for me?”

“Oh yeah,” the woman said, “he has told us all about you.”

Emily laughed nervously. “Um, do I want to know what?”

The woman laughed. “Oh all good. Just that you were his favorite niece, that you were an actress and that you just got a commercial.”

Emily was stunned, but kept her bearings. She laughed and raised an eyebrow, “Really? He said all that?” She pulled down on her skirt.

“Oh yeah,” The woman grinned. “He has been looking forward to this all day. Let me call him,” and she picked up a walkie talkie, which made Emily flinch. “Hey, Rob, she’s here,” she said, in a singsong. “You want a bottle of water?”

Emily smiled, “Nah, I’m good. So how’s the job?”

The woman raised an eyebrow. “You ever been to a construction site?”

Emily, keeping her bearings, “A couple,” she laughed. She looked around the trailer, at the dingy faux-wood walls, the mandatory workers’ comp and OSHA posters haphazardly taped up, the woman’s monitor with the invoices on the screen, the calculator with the tape next to her desk.

“Then, you know.” Stef never worked on one for a reason.

Emily sat down on the edge of the desk, the sagging black leather couch being not compatible, for myriad reasons, with her skirt. “So, he’s been all about getting Mexican. Know any place good?”

The woman laughed, “Yeah, in Boyle Heights,” which made Emily laugh. “Take him to La Cabanita on Verdugo and Ocean View. It’s pretty good and you can sit outside.”

“Thanks,” she said. “Nah, so how’s Rob as a boss?”

The woman smiled. “He’s good.”

“You’re not just saying that, are you?”

The woman moved some papers around. “I don’t get paid enough to lie,” she joked. “Very relaxed.”

Emily smiled, thinking of all of them and what they’d say. “Good. Aunt Jeannie asked for a report.”

Just then, Rob came in and gave her a hug and kiss. “Hey, Emily,” he said happily. “I’m so glad you came.”

She saw the woman hide her mouth behind her hand. “I said I would,” and she pulled on her skirt again, suddenly regretting the choice.

“Well, still. Did you offer her water?”

“Yes, Rob, I did.”

Emily, rolling her eyes at her. “She did, Uncle Rob,” the ‘uncle’ hopefully not too choked. “Thank you,” she said deliberately.

“You are very welcome, Emily,” The woman laughed.

Rob rolled his eyes. “She doesn’t work here, you do. Remember that.” Which got another eyeroll. “You wanna see the project,” he asked eagerly. Emily must have flinched because he whispered, “you don’t have to, if you don’t want.”

No, she told herself. It is a job site. Not their job site. A job site. And he wants you to. “No,” she said, smiling a little too widely, “it’s OK. I mean, I want to see what you’re doing out here.”

“You’re sure?” expectant.

“Of course,” she said. “Why else would I have driven out here?”

He grabbed her a hard hat and she remembered the first time at age 4, the picture Dad kept in his wallet of the helmet covering her eyes. She picked it up and adjusted it, trying not to mess up her hair. She grabbed her bag. “It was great meeting you,” she said, brightly.

“You too. I like your skirt and,” looking at Rob, “so will the crew,” which made him grimace and Emily smile.

They left the trailer and started walking. Rob looked at her. “Are you sure you’re OK with this? I mean…”

She looked at him. “It’s fine, Rob,” then, for levity, “I mean this is not exactly a site-friendly outfit,” and she felt the wind a little and held down her skirt, “but it’s really OK. I can walk around a job site…”

He looked at her. “You’ll let me know?”

She smiled at him. “I’ll be fine,” and he still looked concerned. “I’ll let you know.”

They started walking through and he pointed out where the offices would be, the amenities that would be installed (‘you really think the indoor rock waterfall is a thing? Really?’) and ‘how fast the guys work,’ her father’s daily complaints to the contrary making her smile. As they walked into one space, she saw one man, early 40s with a gut and two Mexican or Guatemalan laborers in their 20s, short, stocky but muscular, all covered in dust, cleaning up. “Hey guys, this is my niece Emily. Emily, this is John, my foreman,” obviously, “and Jaime and Hector, two of my best framers.”

She waved and smiled. “Hi guys, nice to meet you,” and she felt their eyes walk over her, making her feel naked.

Rob took her hand. “Mi sobrina,” he barked. “Ojos alli,” and he pointed at the wall, “no aqui. Comprende?”

The foreman rolled his eyes, “Si, entedemos, el jefe.”

Rob, laughing, “Chingate,” then, “and moving on.”

“Very nice meeting you, Emily,” the foreman said, “you certainly brightened up the day.”

Cheesy as all hell, but she smiled, “Thank you. It was very nice meeting you all. Adios,” which got smiles from everyone.

They finished walking the site and he said, “What do you think?”

She took off the hard hat and fluffed her hair. “I think,” and she paused, “it looks really, really great,” then, teasing, “if I needed office space out here, this would be the first place I would go.”

He smiled, “And you’re sure you’re OK? I know…”

“Rob, it’s totally fine…”

“Jeannie told me that I…” And he looked apologetic, embarrassed.

“I told you. It’s fine,” then, grinning, “hold on a sec,” and she put back on her hard hat.

He looked at her. “What are you doing?”

She grinned. “We should take a selfie and send it to her!”

He laughed. “Selfies. We used to take pictures of other people. Have we become more self-absorbed or do we just have better technology now?”

“Stop it. Put on your hard hat again,” which he did, semi-willingly, a bemused look on his face. She handed him her phone. “If you hold it up high, it makes you look better.”

He took the phone, laughing, “I can use all the help I can get.” He held it up high. “This good? OK, on the count of three,” and he took the picture, both of them grinning. “Not bad,” he said. “I look pretty good.”

She looked at the picture. “Me too. Good job,” and she held out her hand for a high five. “OK, gimme,” and she sent it to Jeannie.

Two seconds later, several smiley faces appeared, followed by ‘tell him to take one of you,’ then ‘see, no period’ She walked a few feet away and held her hands up in a game show hostess move, a big grin on her face, matched only by his.

They walked to the parking lot. “So I’ll drive, since I know where I am.”

They got to her car and he looked at the Fit. “Umm, no, Emmy.”

“What? What’s wrong with it?”

He laughed, “You know why it’s called a Fit? Because only a girl,” which made her smile, “can fit in it. We’re taking my SUV.”

“You don’t know how to get there,” she grinned.

He held up his phone. “This does. You do. Come on.”

They got in the truck, Emily stepping up on the doorstep, sliding in ass first and then swinging her legs in, all the while Rob staring ahead. She closed the door and put on her seat belt, then gave him directions.

They got to the restaurant, and Rob came around to the door, opening it and offering his hand. “Thanks,” she said.

He looked at her. “It’s a lot to get out of this, especially in a skirt.” She raised an eyebrow and he laughed, “you let Jeannie know I said that. She thinks I don’t pay attention.”

“Do you?” And she smoothed out her skirt.

“Not really,” he laughed, “but lie for me, OK?”

They walked into the restaurant, a standard issue California Mexican restaurant. Posters of the Pacific at Cabo, adobe walls, all beiges, browns and oranges. At least, there were no sombreros on the walls, no cheesy pictures of a zocalo, L.A. having moved beyond that long before she got here. The hostess led them to a table outside, Emmy reaching into her bag for a hair tie.

“I’ll have a Pacifico,” Rob said to the waitress.

“Horchata Tamarindo, por favor.”

Rob looked at her. “You don’t want anything stronger? You’re going to make me drink alone?”

The hormones combined with no lunch meant she’d get loopy. “I didn’t eat anything past breakfast today. If I drink now, you’ll be carrying me out.” Then, she winced. “Poor choice of words,” as the waitress tried to figure them out. “Mi tio,” she laughed.

“Por supuesto,” yawned the waitress. Emily knew that she was thinking, ‘humoring equals tips.’

“So,” Rob said, his hands on the table. She had never noticed how large and beaten up they were.

“So,” she said, taking a sip of water. “How are your projects going?” Tonight, she’d play a reporter interviewing someone for a feature story.

He smiled. “Everything is good. I’m putting a bid on something in Indianapolis.”

She smiled. “That’s where Jordy is.” So much for reporting.

“I know,” he laughed. “I saw them at a Cubs game...shit, I know you don’t want to talk about them.”

She felt bad. “We’re not. We’re talking about Jordy. And how they’re in Indianapolis.” He took a chip and pushed the basket towards her. She shook her head, the salt making her bloat, a sad fact of the cocktail, one about which one of her friends said, ‘welcome to my world,’ “I’m good.”

“Your loss,” he said, pulling the basket back. “Anyway, I know. It sounds like they’re doing great. Do they know you call them Jordy?”

“I can. Stef can. You can’t,” she laughed. “They would kill you, then me.”

He smiled. “I won’t. But, I’m putting in a bid,” and he described the project, the process and his eyes lit up.

She had never seen such excitement about it before, and it was contagious. After a few minutes, “You really enjoy what you do, don’t you?”

He smiled. “Yeah. You seem surprised.”

She looked around. “I mean…” He looked at her and she felt nervous. “What?”

“When you cut bullshit out of your life, it makes everything better. You know?”

“Um…” And she took a sip of her horchata, which was too sweet. She poured a little water in to cut the sweetness.

“Like I told you that first day, as far as I’m concerned, we got out. There’s no them. I mean, obviously there’s a them and they’re my problem, but there’s no them here and there won’t be a them here unless you want a them here, which you obviously don’t. Right?”

She laughed a little. “I don’t,” and she played with the butterfly around her neck. “But I don’t want you to feel like you have to stop yourself about anything.”

“Thanks, Emmy, but I have spent way too much time on them in my life but thank you.”

For lack of anything else, “You’re welcome,” which got a laugh.

“So, tell me about Duncan,” he grinned.

She felt herself flush. “Remember how I said you don’t have to stop yourself…”

He sipped his beer and grinned. “No take backs. So, you and this Duncan character,” the deliberately old-timey elocution making her laugh, “what’s the deal?”

She took a chip and dipped it in medium salsa. “The deal is I don’t know.”

“I may be dense. Hell, I am dense but that isn’t an ‘I don’t know face,’ Emmy.”

“OK, this is awkward,” she laughed.

He grinned. “If you think this is awkward, ask Liam what I did when he brought his girlfriend home…”

“You didn’t?” Feeling embarrassment for a cousin she hadn’t seen in six years, one who was basically a child, running around after the bigger kids, the last time that she saw him.

“I did. I did and I will.”

She sighed, playing along. “Fine. I like him. I like him a lot. But it’s early, y’know?”

“I hear you. Play it by ear, see how it goes. But, just make sure he treats you right.”

“He does,” she smiled, remembering the other night, when he gave her his sweatshirt on the beach; it swam on her, which had always been one of her dreams. “I promise you.”

“Good. You’re my favorite niece and I don’t want to hear that someone isn’t treating you right.” She looked at him, trying to read whether he was sincere. Years of acting had made her wonder about her ability to feel real emotion. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s not a nothing face, Emily.”

“It’s nothing.”

He looked at her. “Just say it.”

“I just...and I’ve loved seeing you...and….”

He put his hand on hers, and she could feel the rough patches. “Jeannie told me this would happen.”

She felt mortified. “What would happen?”

“You’d feel weird,” he said. “Don’t.”

“This isn’t weird to you?” She was dubious.

“No. It isn’t. If it’s weird for you, tell me how to make it less weird.”

If I knew that, it would be. “I just don’t want you to feel weird.”

“Emmy,” he said, looking dead at her, his blue eyes swimming, “Jeannie told you, I’ll tell you. You are my niece. That’s it. My niece. And we are glad we saw you at the restaurant, and that you let us try and be part of your life. Jeannie would kill me for saying this but she is so happy that you talk to her and I am so happy that you came out today. That’s it.” Emily started tearing up and he, exasperated, “OK, stop that. You can’t do that every time.” Still, he got up and hugged her.

“It really isn’t weird for you? At all?”

“No,” he said, flatly. “Niece. Uncle,” and then his voice caught, “if you’ll let me.”

She felt herself tear up. “Not crying,” she grinned.

“Me either,” he said. “I think it’s dust.”

“Onions,” she said, pointing at her chicken mole. “It’s the onions.”

He smiled. “OK, you know what is weird?”

“What?” She braced herself.

“How much my wife is into your dating life.”

She felt herself turn red. “OK, that,” and she half-laughed, half-choked, “is way too much information.”

He laughed. “No, it’s not like she tells me sex talk.”

“OK,” and now she wanted to hide, “I am not going there. I am not going anywhere near there. In fact, if we’re going there, leave me here and I’ll get an Uber.”

He laughed. “Don’t worry. We are not. Even if you wanted to go there, we aren’t. I will drive as far in the opposite direction as I can. I just meant that she just seems way too invested in you and,” and he sneered theatrically, “Duncan. I mean, you’d think she wants to start dating again,” he laughed.

“That’s not it,” she laughed. “She seems resigned to you,” she teased.

“Resigned? Wiseass,” he laughed. “She could do a lot worse.”

Emmy, smiling, “She could.”

They were sitting around, picking at an order of sopapillas. “So, Stef is getting married…”

She broke off a piece and mushed it around the honey and cinnamon, mostly to keep her hands busy. “Yeah, she is.”

“Jared’s a great guy,” he said, taking a bite, a little sugar getting on his shirt. She gestured and he swept it off with a little smile. “Really loves her.”

“He really does. From what I’ve heard.” Suddenly feeling cold.

“You haven’t met him?”

“I mean, on FaceTime and stuff. The last time she was here, they weren’t a couple.” And she felt sad. “But, he’s always really nice to me.”

“There’s no reason he shouldn’t be,” then, “so Jeannie says you’re coming back for the wedding.”

“Do you think that’s a bad idea?” Now, her sopapilla was inedible, mashed into oblivion.

“No,” he said. “I think it’s a great idea.”

She looked at him. “Really?”

“You’re her sister, Emily. Of course, you should come for her wedding. If it’s a money thing, I’ll pay for your ticket.”

“That’s not what I meant and it’s not necessary but thank you.”

“She’s got one sister...and Jordan...I mean, and this may sound out of date, totally wrong, but what do you call them?”

She laughed. “My twin, I guess. Keeps most people happy.”

“Yeah, well, anyway, she’s got the two of you. And Jeannie said that she said that you’re going to be in the wedding?”

“You think THAT’S a bad idea, don’t you?”

He looked at her. “Fuck them. If that’s what you’re thinking, fuck them. We will be there for you and her. And Jordan. And your parents. But you get the idea, right?”

She smiled. “Thanks, Uncle Rob,” ‘uncle’ coming back to her.

They finished their meal. They went out to the SUV. He helped her into the truck and went around. “I’ve been meaning to ask. Berrigan?”

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

He looked at her, confused. “For what?”

“Berrigan. I mean…”

He laughed. “Do you know how many times I dreamed of that? I just wondered why Berrigan.”

There was a story she wasn’t ready to tell. “Long story. Some other time.”

Teasing, “What’s Duncan’s last name?”

“I’m ignoring you,” she said, checking her teeth in the visor mirror.

“Duncan I’m ignoring you? So, I guess you’ll keep your name…”

“Am I laughing,” she said, stifling a laugh. “No, I am not. But, I am ignoring you.”

“Fine. Be that way,” and he turned away from her. “You have a middle name?”

“Yes, Claire,” and he made a face. “What? What’s wrong with Claire?”

“I dated a girl named Claire in college. Too high maintenance.”

A sense of comfort washed over her, sitting here, joking with him. “Really? High maintenance?”

“Oh, yeah. She was one of those St. Mary’s girls, one of those girls who was expecting to be married and have kids and drain the life out of some guy…”

“Wow,” she said, shaking her head. “All that from Claire, huh?”

“Yup. Jeannie wanted to name a girl Claire if we had one and I said no way.” And he checked his mirrors and put the truck in reverse.

She laughed. “You would have lost, you know that, right?”

“Well, it’s good we had Liam then.” She went to ask about Robbie and stopped herself.

They drove back to the job site and he walked her to her car. “Thanks for dinner, Uncle Rob,” and she wondered whether to hug him, whether it was too much.

He leaned over and gave her a hug and kiss. “No, thank you, Emmy.” He waited until she was in her car and tapped on the window. “Drive safe.”

She smiled. “I will, Uncle Rob.”

Emily Berrigan is a 23 year old transwoman, who hasn't seen her twin Jordan in six years. Not since she told her parents the truth about herself and they threw her out. Her older sister is getting married and wants Emily there - as a bridesmaid. Will sparks fly?
----
Jordan and Kira's relationship deepens. Emily films her commercial. Stephanie tells her mother who's going to be bridesmaid.
----

Jordan stood at the garage of the vocational school, handing over the keys to the truck. They looked at the squat beige building, the garage bays open and cleaner than any commercial garage ever would be. They remembered the RFP their father put in on that school bus depot in Aurora, how pissed he was that he didn’t get it. Well, if they had their way, they’d never have to worry about something that small.

“Well, thanks, uh, Ms.,” the word said uncertainly, “Nehlen. We really appreciate you donating your truck to us. The kids can learn a lot from old vehicles like these,” the ‘old’ a punch to the stomach.

They smiled, “My dad and I rebuilt it from the ground up, basically.”

“That’s what we’ll be doing here, too.” The shop teacher looked over at Jordan’s new, well 3-year old, Toyota pickup, Kira behind the wheel. “That’s a nice one you got there.”

“Thanks,” they laughed. “Kinda hard to drive though. You turn a key and it just starts,” to a laugh from the teacher, who told a story of an old Camaro he had, ‘fifteen minutes of pre-flight when you loaned it to someone.’ “Like, I don’t know what I’m gonna do when it’s cold and I can just go outside and get in...anyway, I’m glad it’ll be of use.”

They walked over to their new truck, and Kira lowered the window. “Can I help you,” she grinned.

They smiled, “Shove over.”

Kira, smiling, “What if I say no?” Her tone, flirtatious.

They took a deep, dramatic breath. “Oh, you’re saying no, are you,” hoping that they didn’t sound like a maniac.

Kira smiled, “You never let me drive.”

From the corner of their eye, they saw the teacher walk back into the building. “I’m an awful passenger,” they said. “You will regret this,” and they walked around to the other side, hopping into the cab.

Kira kissed them on the lips. “I’m a very good driver. You’ll see.” They looked over at the seat and regretted not paying extra for the one with the memory seat. Once Kira got out, they’d have to spend ten minutes fixing it and it would still never be right. Still, they needed to relax, and they took a breath. Kira laughed, “Oh come on. It’s like a fifteen minute drive, it’ll be fine, you baby.” They watched as Kira adjusted the mirrors again, checked behind her and pulled out of the lot.

Kira pulled into the lot at Butler, and grinned. “See, you didn’t die. Your new truck is all in one piece. What do you say?”

They smiled. “You did fine.”

Kira began poking Jordan. “I did fine? I did fine? That’s all.”

Jordan, stifling a laugh, “I don’t know what you’re doing. I’m not ticklish.” They could see people looking at them. “Come on, people are looking.”

Kira kept poking, and they watched as her shirt rode up a little. “So,” she said, continuing the poking, “tell me I was good and I’ll stop. Besides, why do you care what they think?”

Trying to maintain a semblance of control, “I don’t care. I’m concerned for you. You start assaulting people in a parking lot and people start to talk,” they laughed.

“Oh, is poor Jordan being assaulted?” She looked at the window and saw a campus cop going by on a scooter. “Should I call a cop? Yoo hoo, Mr. Officer, my big strong,” and she paused, they hadn’t said what they were yet, “Jordan is being attacked. Just say it.”

“Only because you need to get to class and I need to get to work - you did very well. OK?”

Kira pulled them in close and gave them a real kiss. “Yeah, that covers it.” She picked up her backpack and purse from the seats behind her. “I will see you later, right?” They had softball, Kira’s team playing on the field next to theirs. Roni had told them, laughing, ‘that you better keep your eyes on the field.’

“Yup. I have your glove and bat bag in the back. Have a good day at school.” Have a good day at school? Idiot.

Then, they watched as Kira walked off to class, her ponytail bouncing as she walked away, catching up with her friends. They drove to work with a smile on their face, ignoring the traffic.

--

They ate lunch with two of the other assistant managers, Dean and Lucas.

“Nah, she’s all up my ass about moving in.” Dean was bitching about his girlfriend. “I’m like, yeah, no. Know what I’m saying?”

Jordan took a bite of their sandwich. “How long have you been together?”

Dean looked at them. “Like six months?”

Lucas laughed. “You don’t know to the minute? I’m telling her.”

“Fuck off, dick,” Dean said, then turned to Jordan. “That doesn’t bother you, does it?”

“Does what bother me?” They had genuinely no clue and racked their brain.

“What we’re talking about.” He took a bite of his burger and she watched food fly out.

“No. Why would it?”

He looked at Lucas. “I just thought…”

They grinned. “That was your first problem. You thought. I don’t care if you don’t know how long you’ve been together. She will. I don’t. You chewing with your mouth open? That bothers me. Anyway, is your lease up or something, or hers?”

He looked at them. “A couple of months.”

They shrugged. “Your call.”

“Would you move in with someone after six months?” Now, they both looked at Jordan.

“I dunno. Depends.”

“On what?”

They took a breath. “If I thought she was someone I wanted to see everyday.” They knew Jordan liked girls and thought that was probably easier than if she didn't, straight women being for the trailer. “Do you wanna see her everyday?” They thought about Kira, how they weren't ready for everyday or even close to it, but how pissed they'd be if someone else was.

Dean looked at Lucas, then Jordan. “No but she's hot and I don't wanna give that up. Sorry.”

Jordan shrugged and took another bite. “Not my problem but she's gonna figure that out eventually.”

The two guys looked at each other, and Dean shrugged. “I'll figure that out then.”
--
It was after the game and Jordan and Kira were in the truck, heading back to her dorm when the phone rang. Jordan went to look and Kira said, “Eyes on the road,” then, “it says PITA. Who's that?”

They laughed, “Stef. Pick it up.”

Kira picked up and, in a bad breathy voice, “You've reached Jordan Nehlen.” Jordan went to grab it and she moved it to her other ear. “This is their assistant Kira.”

Jordan, laughing, “Come on. Give it.”

Kira, now grinning, “I've heard a lot about you... I'm a senior at Butler. Econ and theater...I know, they told me. Oh, they're driving. Should I put you on speaker?” Over Jordan's yelled, ‘I'll call you back,’ Kira put Stef on speaker, “Hey, Jor,” she laughed.

“I'll call you back.”

Laughter. “Kira, you don't mind if we talk now, do you?”

Kira, grinning. “Not at all. I won't interrupt.”

Jordan grumbled but smiled, ‘I doubt that,’ and Stef continued, “It won't be an interruption,” then, “Mom wanted me to call you.”

Jordan took a deep breath. This was never a good start to any conversation. “What did I do now?”

Stef laughed, “No, this time I'm supposed to apologize to you.”

Kira looked bemused as Jordan said, “For what?” Trying to remember if anything had happened in Chicago and coming up blank.

“Well, because I'm not having you as a bridesmaid.”

They were confused. “Yeah. Ok. And?”

Stef said, “Well, she thought I should apologize because you,” and she couldn't hold back the laughter, “aren't,” which led to uncontrollable giggles from Kira.

They laughed, “Is she fucking nuts?”

Kira, giggling. “I think you should be,” then, “Stephanie, I'm thinking orange.”

Stef, laughing, “What do you think of magenta?”

“Ooh... chartreuse!”

Jordan, “Are you two having fun?”

Stef, “That's perfect! And I'm thinking ruffles.” They stared ahead, watching traffic, glad that Stef seemingly liked Kira, not that they had planned to introduce them to each other yet. They hoped that none of this would get back to their parents, knowing that Mom would take it out on Dad. They listened as the two landed on a dress with a full skirt, a hat and a parasol, giggling the whole time. “Anyway, call me later, Jor. Love you.”

“Love you too, Stef,” and they hung up.

Kira laughed, “Why would your mother ever think you'd be a bridesmaid?”

They sighed, “I think she thinks this is a phase.”

Kira rolled her eyes. “Is she that clueless? Besides, there's Emily. From what you said, this would totally be her thing.”

“It is. It will be,” and then the lie came to them, “Jared has two sisters, so it's a symmetry thing.” They mentally patted themselves on their back.

Kira played with her phone, “That's crazy AF.”

Jordan laughed, “Yeah, that's the Nehlens. Crazy AF.”

---

On the way back from Kira’s dorm, they called Stef. “Hey, Jordy,” they said brightly. “I didn't expect you to call back so quickly.”

Jordan laughed, “She has an exam tomorrow, you know the deal.”

Teasing, “I like her.”

Drily, “I'm thrilled.”

“She seems really cool, low-key.”

“She is,” then laughing as she drove onto the highway, “and I'll try not to fuck it up.” Then, “she asked why mom cared about me doing it if Em was around.”

A pause, then an intake of breath. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

They had talked to Emily and she had said that she didn't honestly care whether Kira knew or not, that she was who she was and that she'd find out eventually if, ‘you don't screw this one up, Jordy.’ And as far she was concerned, Em was Em and if someone had a problem, they had the problem. But then again, they didn't know if they were ready for the questions. “I don't know if I'm there yet. Em’s in the wedding, right?” Girding themself for a fight on their little sister's behalf.

A sharp, “Of course, she is.” They exhaled. “How could you even ask that?”

They stared out the window, at the flat expanse of highway, running to the horizon line. They remembered the ride to West Lafayette, the emptiness, the openness. “Sorry. What did mom say when you told her?” Picturing a conflagration like those shows on Dresden that grandpa always watched. Then, silence. “Did you tell her?”

Stef, “It's my wedding. She'll deal.”

Jordan approached their exit, carefully turning the wheel, hand over hand. “What? She's just gonna show up and see Em?”

Trying to regain control, “Obviously, not. I'll tell her. She's already pissed it's not Stace and Mia. Who, by the way, both thanked me.”

Teasing, “Well, then thank you too. But, come on, it's not fair to Em.”

Deflecting, “She really seems great.”

The conversation was over and they knew that one of the good things about this was that Mom would never involve them in it, having declared them useless years ago. “You'll like her,” then stopping the pounce. “If we get there.”

“Right,” she said, drawing it out. “If. Although I guess that she could drop you.”

Jordan, pulling into the Kroger parking lot to pick up staples - eggs, milk, cereal, “That isn't happening.”

Stef, laughing, “Someone thinks very highly of themself.”

They had to laugh a little, having had no relationship until they went to college, remembering the insults and a trip to the mall, the first time that Mom and Dad had left them alone overnight. How she and Em walked around, looking at clothes and how they wondered what went wrong that Em was Em and not them. How Stef huffed that she'd let them go to GameStop if they ‘just behaved,’ like they were a little kid. “It's not bragging if you can back it up.”

“Gross,” she laughed. “Anyway, once again, I am truly sorry that you won't be a bridesmaid. Please, forgive me.”

They laughed. “What's the matter with her?”

Stef laughed. “I had too long a day. Love you Jordy.”

“Love you too. Say hi to Jared.”

---
Emily sat on the set, while the makeup artist did her face. A makeup artist was doing her face. She knew that she had to sit here quietly, speak as little as possible, but a makeup artist was doing her face - for a commercial. “You have great bone structure,” the artist said, as she applied lip gloss.

“Thanks,” Emily said. “I’ve been working on it,” she joked.

“So, this is your first commercial?” Emily nodded. “Don’t nod, I need you to stay still.”

“Sorry about that,” Emily said. “I’m never sure which is worse. Yeah, this is my first.”

“Well, good luck. The director is good, I’ve worked with her before, and some of the crew. I don’t know the cameraman or the lighting guy, but she runs a tight set.” She began applying blush to her face. “You’ve got a cute look, y’know, very approachable. If you stay out of the sun, you should have a long career.”

Emily, trying not to smile, “I hope so.”

The makeup artist took the piece of tissue paper from around her neck, then yelled, “We’re ready.”

Emily walked over to her mark. Her waitress outfit consisted of black jeans and a white cotton top, tied just above her waist and a pair of boots that no diner waitress with an interest in keeping her feet would ever wear. She knew, however, that no one was interested in her backstory for her character, or what she did with her feet after her shift. Smile, serve, say your lines, that’s what they wanted.

The director came over, copper hair down to the base of her neck, worn jeans and a white t-shirt over which she wore a green button down. “Emily, right?” She nodded. “OK, so you know what your job is,” and she gave her basic directions. Go there, look here, that sort of thing. “OK, so you’ve got it, right?”

Emily smiled, about to say, ‘I think so,’ then, “I’ve got it!”

The crew laughed. “I appreciate your enthusiasm,” the director laughed, “OK, everyone on your marks.” Emily walked over to the table where the two ‘customers’ sat, menus in hand. She called for sound, then, ‘action.’

The customers ordered, Emily moving from table to table, making sure not to pirouette, making sure to hit ‘Best Foods mayo’ just right. “Cut.” The director looked at her. “OK, that was OK, Emily, but when you’re going from table to table, can I see some motion?”

“Motion?” She had walked from table to table, like the script said.

“Yeah, motion. You’ve been in restaurants before” And she stifled a laugh and raised her eyebrows. “You’re moving from table to table, maybe do a little move like,” and she moved slightly more gracefully than Jordan would. “Can you do that?”

She smiled. “Let me take a shot.”

Take two. Back in place. They called action and she began moving between the tables, doing the little moves she had been doing since she was 17, the hip shift here, the turn there, always hitting her marks and saying her lines with a smile.

“Cut, that was great, really great,” the director said.

The cameraman looked at her. “We had a shadow in the frame,” then looking at the lighting guy, “can you make sure that doesn’t happen again?”

“Fuck you,” she heard someone mumble. “Maybe check your camera beforehand.”

The director said, “Enough.” Then, ‘do your jobs right and we won’t have this problem.’

Emily sat watching all of this. So this is a set, she thought. She had done student films but that was the difference between training camp and the real thing, looking up at a rigger who had to be at least Rob’s age, climbing up and down ladders. She wondered whether he had wanted to do something else and ended here or if he was happy.

After seven takes - missed cues, mike shadows, a noise out of frame - her feet hurt, her hair was falling in strands onto her face (‘I like it,’ the director said when the makeup artist came to fix it, ‘very realistic.’ As if hair in your food was realistic) and she wanted to punch the ‘customer’ who surreptitiously pinched her ass as she went past. But, still she smiled and did what she was told.

Take eight. She moved from table to table, doing her moves, imagining herself at her old job, the synchronicities that came when everyone knew each other. “Bring out the Best Foods and bring out the best,” she said smiling.

“Cut!” The director yelled. “OK, everyone take ten while I check this.”

Emily sat down in a chair and a PA brought her over a bottle of water with a straw. “Thanks,” she said, smiling. “I really appreciate it.”

The PA, a tall guy, all arms, legs and Adam’s apple, said, “You’re doing great.”

She smiled. “Am I? Thanks. I mean, I’m just the trained monkey out there, you guys do all the work.”

He smiled at her. “You can’t have a circus without monkeys,” which made her laugh. “I mean, you need acrobats and a ringmaster and,” he pointed at himself, “clowns too, but you definitely need your monkey.”

She smiled, “I don’t know exactly how to take that.”

He laughed, “I don’t know what it meant, so we’re even. Anyway, I’m just doing this for extra cash. I’m doing a movie, it’s kinda low budget, but it’s a bunch of us from USC and I was wondering if you’d be interested in maybe reading for it.”

She hesitated. With this, she’d finally be a real professional, paid to work. On the other hand, with this, she’d have had exactly one paying job. “I guess. I mean, what’s it about?”

He explained it. A family drama, about a family in the Inland Empire, just getting by, sort of the faces left behind in the boom. She’d be playing the middle daughter, a high school junior. Not a big part but ‘we think we may be able to get into Ignite,’ the young filmmaker’s institute at Sundance. She was fairly certain it was bullshit, her dentist thought he was getting a first look deal, but she was willing to read a script. For every five hundred pieces of shit, there had to be a ‘Tangerine.’ “So, I’ll send it over.” She gave him her acting email and told him she’d read it.

“OK,” the director said, “that’s a wrap. Great job.” She walked over to Emily. “I need your contact info in case we need to loop.” That got her real email. “And the agency will let you know when and where it’s airing.”

“Thanks,” she said brightly, which got a bemused smile and a head shake.

She took off her costume, cleaned off the makeup and walked out on air to her car, stopping to pump her first. She checked her phone - a bunch of texts (Duncan, Marissa, Shaye) and a voice mail - Jeannie or her boss, obviously. Shit, it was already 5:30, which meant Duncan would be getting ready for the dinner rush. She slid into the car, smoothing her dress under her. She turned on Spotify, Destiny’s Child, singing, ‘the clothes I'm wearing I bought it, The rock I'm rockin,' I bought it. 'Cause I depend on me,’ and bouncing in her seat.

She pulled into the parking lot of her building, dancing along to the music in her head, the woman getting her mail, laughing at her. Or with her. It didn’t matter. She went inside and kicked off her shoes. If she did her math right, if the commercial aired ten times, at standard rates, she’d have enough after taxes for the surgery. She sang, grinning, ‘the vag I’m rockin’, I bought it.’ Then, she took out her phone and listened to dictation from work.

Duncan came over after work and she met him at the door, wearing nothing but a big t-shirt and giving him a big kiss. He looked at her, “Is this Apartment 7?”

“Oooh, sorry, no,” she said, giggling. “You’re looking for the big hairy guy, right? He’s across the hall.”

“Oh yeah. That’s right. Sorry,” and he turned.

She smiled, “I mean, as long as you’re here…”

He picked her up, his hands on her ass and her arms around his neck, and walked over to the couch. “So how did it go?”

She smiled, “It was so amazing,” and she told the whole story, hands gesturing wildly as she described everyone. “And some PA asked if I wanted to read for his movie.”

Duncan looked at her. “I don’t like that, I don’t think.”

Her legs tucked under her. “Why?”

“I dunno,” he said, “I think he was just hitting on you.”

“Why, Duncan Connell, are you jealous,” she teased, as she stretched out her legs into his lap.

He turned a little red, which she liked. “No. I just wonder why he asked you.” She raised her eyebrow and crossed her arms. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant it like does he ask every actress he meets?” Now, she was staring. “OK, I mean why you?”

She looked at him. “I’m good? Might that have occurred to you?”

He knew he had stepped in it. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just,” and he started rubbing her feet, “don’t like it when other guys just start talking to you, OK? I know you’re good and, if you think he’s legit, I trust your judgment.”

She laughed a little. “Duncan, how long have you lived here? And been in the restaurant business? Everyone is in show business except,” and she booped his nose, “you. He probably figured I’d work cheap or something. Besides, the script is probably garbage besides.” He began moving his hands up her leg. “I’m not letting you off the hook that easy, mister.” He began pulling her by her legs closer to him, so that she ended up mostly in his lap. “What do you think you’re doing?” He smiled and kissed her, full on the mouth. “I’m still not happy,” she giggled as he tickled her. He put his hands under her t-shirt and start playing with her nipples. “I’m serious.”

“Uh huh, got it,” he said. “Do you want me to stop?”

She looked at him. “Just because I want a booty call does not mean I’m not upset with you.”

He began kissing her neck. “You’re the best actress I know.”

She began writhing. “How many actresses do you know?”

“Enough,” and he began pulling her shirt over her head, making her flinch, even still. “Enough to know you’re the best.”

“That's better,” she laughed. They went into the bedroom and she pulled his shirt over his head, running her finger down the strip of hair from his sternum to his belly button, then kissing his chest. He moaned and she smiled. “Does Dunky like that?” More moans. “What about this?” And she unzipped his pants, pulling them down and smiling at his erection. “Dunky definitely likes this, doesn’t he?” They stood there, both in their underwear, and she noticed how he never looked down. She closed the blinds, giggling, “We don’t want to give the neighbors a show, do we?” She turned out the lights, took off her panties and they went at it, hot and heavy, his hands all over her chest, hips and ass. After fifteen minutes, she took out the K-Y and rubbed it all over his cock, moaning, “Now!”

She should have made him wear a condom. They had told them all that, even if pregnancy wasn’t a thing, STDs were, even as she was pretty sure he was clean. But, in the moment, all she wanted was to feel him inside her. He began pumping away and whatever she had hung there limply, basically a baby’s thumb at this point, thanks to the estrogen and everything. “Ohgodohgod,” he moaned, thrusting in and out, and she gave her ‘yesyesyes’ back.

And, for the first time in a very long time, she felt...something. A stirring. Not an erection. No, those were a distant and unpleasant memory. But a feeling, a very good one. ‘Yesyesyes,’ she began screaming, ‘ohgodohgod,’ and then she gave a noise and flinched, feeling a drop of something drip from her. Then, she felt him pull out, his cum dripping from her ass.

She rolled next to him, nestling in the crook of his arm. “That was amazing,” and she kissed him.

He had a massive grin on his face. “Did you cum?” Guys always asked this. Shaye always said ‘stop asking and start trying harder.’

“Yes,” she laughed, happy to be honest for once. Then, teasing, “did you?”

He kissed her again. “Nah, I was faking it.”

“You really should quit and become an actor then.” She rolled over to put on her panties.

“Are you kicking me out or something?” He looked upset.

She was confused. “No, why?” She was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at her panties on the floor.

“Why are you getting dressed then?”

“I’m not,” she said, “I was just…”

He smiled and patted the bed. “Then, just lie down here.”

She smiled and lay down next to him, feeling his warmth against her, and she listened as he fell asleep.
---
The last place she wanted to be was downtown on a Saturday. She spent more of her life here than anyplace else and, because of this, would have to be back here tomorrow in the office. And she hated Macy’s. It was crowded, the staff was surly and they made no effort at presentation, basically assuming customers were here because they had no imagination or not enough money to shop on Michigan Avenue or whatever.

But mom liked it, remembering it from ‘when it was Marshall Field’s,’ and rhapsodizing about the way ‘the skylights used to flood the store with light.’ Stef remembered the way that they’d ride the escalators with Grandma to the top, looking at all of the floors of stuff, and then work their way back down. But then the store almost went under and people shopped on-line, and so they had to lease the top floors which meant closing off the skylight because of building codes or something.

And she felt guilty. Arden would kill to have her mom annoy the crap out of her, but the pancreatic cancer took care of that. She never wanted to say anything but Arden always joked, ‘Just ‘cause mine’s dead doesn’t make Laura less annoying.’

So, here she was, waiting for mom by the Frango counter, the last vestige of the old store she sort of remembered. Today was the day. She was telling her and she would just have to deal. Emmy was her sister and she was going to be in the wedding. That was it. If they couldn’t deal, tough shit. It was her wedding.

She was looking at her phone, when she heard, “Please tell me that’s not work.”

Stef dropped her phone in her bag. “Nah, Tik Tok. I promised that I wouldn’t do work,” when you could see me, “and I’ll keep my promise.”

Her mother looked at her. “I like that sweater.”

A green sweater that she bought at a store near work, v neck. Nothing special, but “thanks. So, was traffic OK?”

She shrugged. “The usual.” Usurping dad’s line of inquiry. “Anyway, I’m so glad you could make time for me.”

She felt a stabbing pain. “Thanks, ma,” she said, with a tight smile. “I really appreciate it.” Sorry I don’t work at some firm in the suburbs where I don’t make enough to cover my loans, much less pay rent or anything.

“I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m just glad that we’re getting some girl time together. Not that I don’t like seeing Jared too, but I like just us.”

She sighed, “Yeah, me too. Anyway, where do you want to go?” They went up to one of the five women’s floors, men and children being consigned to the first, as her mother began looking for new clothes for work, yammering on about one of the female attorneys who ‘thinks she’s better than the support staff.’

“Do you think the male attorneys think that?” Regretting the words as soon as she said them.

Her mother, holding a dress to herself, “What?”

Doubling down against her better judgment. “Do the male attorneys think they’re better than the support staff?”

Her mother. “Oh stop. That’s not what I mean. She just is particularly snobby. The other day, she just held up her coffee cup and waggled it, like her admin is her slave.”

Stef remembered mom’s old boss doing just that, occasionally barking ‘coffee’ when he was feeling courteous. And the male attorneys in their 50s who all but patted her on the head, when she told them she was doing the Intel Science Search. But keep focusing on the woman, ma. “That’s not OK for anyone to do, ma.”

Her mother was now placated, and they continued walking around the store, her mother offering her opinion on a Nehlen ‘command performance’ she had been forced to attend, savaging everyone except Aunt Jeannie. “She said that she saw you in Jewel when you came out.”

“Um, yeah. She congratulated us.” It was a month and a half ago, and she had all but forgotten, remembering only now the conversation that they had about Emily.

“She seems strange lately.”

Stef looked up to see two boys, obviously bored out of their skulls, trying to run up the down escalator. “What do you mean?”

“She’s very secretive,” then, looking at the two boys, “they’re going to get hurt. They remind me of Molly…”

“Jordan, ma. Their name is Jordan.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t do it often.”

Once is too much, she thought, but don’t go there. “Whatever. Jeannie. Maybe it’s something with Robbie.” She knew something was up but no one said anything to her and she wasn’t asking.

“No, that’s not it. It’s more like she’s trying not to say something to me.”

Stef shrugged. “Maybe it’s a business thing. Maybe something’s up and she wants to say but she can’t because of all their BS.”

Her mother smiled, happy to hear dad’s family bashed. “Maybe. It’s just she’s the only one I can tolerate. How are Brooke and Jamie?” Jared’s sisters.

She took a breath. “I’ve told you. They’re great.”

“You’re lucky.”

“So you’ve said. What happened at the dinner?” How to distract her.

And off she went, describing in detail everything that happened, Stef having learned to tune her out, like a vacuum cleaner being used in the other room. She nodded and agreed about how her aunts were all bitches.

They walked around for a while, eventually heading to the Walnut Room on the seventh floor. Stef remembered how she used to love coming here when she was little, the beauty of the walnut paneling and the crystal chandeliers, the linen napkins. After all these years, as overwrought as it was, it still somehow meant luxury to her.

The menu, on the other hand...salmon? Meatloaf? “Chicken caesar salad,” she said to the waitress, “and an unsweetened iced tea, thanks.”

As they waited for their food, her mother said, “Mia,” Stef’s cousin, “is very upset that she’s not a bridesmaid.”

Stef smiled, “Funny, because she thanked me profusely. She said that the baby is driving her nuts and that she’s so glad that she doesn’t have to go through bridesmaid stuff on top of everything. Stacy said the same thing.”

“That’s not,” and she swallowed her lips, “what Jackie told me.” Stef shrugged. “On top of which, it makes me look bad.”

Stef, taking a sip of water, then swallowing, “How?”

“Because none of the family is in the wedding. They had you and you’re having his sisters and Arden.”

Another sip. “Arden is my best friend. She was never not going to be my maid of honor. You know that, right?”

“I have nothing against her being in the wedding.” Gee thanks. “I’m not unreasonable.” You wouldn’t know. “But his sisters and none of your own family? Jackie is hurt.”

“I’ll call her. I’ll make nice.”

Her mother played with a sugar packet. “That’s not the point. I just don’t understand how you can get married and not have any of your family in the wedding.”

Stef took a breath. She knew that she was going to have the fight eventually but had hoped to eat first. Oh well, she thought, plans change. “I am.”

Her mother, now playing with her straw wrapper, “You are what?”

“Having family in the wedding. Our family.”

Her mother stared at her, then laughed. “Oh, so your sister is going to be in the wedding?”

She saw the car heading towards the cliff and debated hitting the brakes. “Yeah, she is.”

“Did you tell them they,” both words all but spat, “have to wear a dress?”

“She knows that and is excited.” Let’s see how long this takes, she thought, as she watched people running out of the way of the car.

“She? You’re calling her ‘she’ all of a sudden? Do they know that?” Her tone light, her face annoyed.

“I’m not talking about Jordan, ma. I’m talking about Emily.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

Stef, taking a sip of her iced tea. “Emily, ma. Emily is going to be a bridesmaid and she’s very excited.”

A deep breath and, through gritted teeth, “You are not going to have your brother as a bridesmaid. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Emily is not my brother. She is my sister. And she’s going to be a bridesmaid. In my wedding.”

“Absolutely not,” she said, with finality.

“Absolutely yes, ma,” she said calmly, as her heart beat quickly.

“Oh, really?” Sarcasm flowing. “Your brother is going to wear a dress in front of all our relatives? Do you really think I’m going to be humiliated in front of them like that?”

“Emily is my sister, ma. Not my brother, my sister. And she’s beautiful and no one is going to be humiliated. Do you want to see a picture of her,” and she reached for her phone.

“No,” she snapped. “I do not want to see a picture of him. He is not going to be a bridesmaid, and that’s it.”

“That’s not it,” she said, measuring her words carefully, like tiny bits of nitroglycerin, “She is. And, if someone has a problem, them, you, anyone, that’s just too bad.”

“Have you told Jared’s family that your crossdressing brother is going to be a bridesmaid? I’m sure his aunt will have a field day.”

She was done being nice. “Who the fuck cares what anyone thinks?”

“I do. You should. You know what she thinks of you. Are you trying to prove her right?”

She put her napkin on the table. “I don’t care what she thinks. Or Jackie. Or any of them. Emily is my sister. I love her, she loves me, she is the nicest, kindest girl I know - and she is a girl, ma, make no mistake - and she is going to be in my wedding. And I don’t care what anyone else thinks. If someone doesn’t like it, they don’t have to come.”

“So,” her mother said, smirking, “if I said, it’s her or me…” Stef waved. “Really?”

“I’d rather not but it’s not me making that decision.” She was amazed that she got that out. “I’m sorry if it comes to that, but this is a red line.”

“Well,” her mother said, “I have to decide my next steps as well, then. Two of us can play this game, Stephanie.”

Stef took another sip. “It’s not a game, ma. It’s my wedding. And I’m not making any choice here. Emily is more than willing to be there with you.” Maybe. They hadn’t discussed it. “But you decide. If you don’t want to be at your daughter’s wedding, I will be really, really hurt but I’ll deal.” She wasn’t ready to give the ‘but if you’re not, be prepared’ ultimatum, yet.

Her mother looked at her angrily. “You can explain that to your father, all of this. I’m not.” Stef smiled and took out her phone. “I suggest that you think before you do that.”

“Okey dokey,” she smirked, putting her phone back. “I ask you to do the same.”

The waitress came and all but dropped their food and ran. “Don’t take that tone with me,” and she crammed her fork into her chicken pot pie. She took a bite. “Well, there’s no point in eating this now,” and she dropped her fork, Stef listening to it clank on the plate.

Stef drizzled dressing on the salad, and took a bite. “This is really good. Want some?” OK, she thought, that was bitchy. “Sorry. But I’m not sorry about the rest of this.” Her mother glared. “You can,” and she took another bite, “choose what you want to do here. But Emily is going to be there, like it or not. And if you got over your BS and took the time to get to know her, you’d see how great she is.”

“I know who Christopher is,” she said, taking an angry forkful of her chicken pot pie. “He chose his path, not me.”

You didn’t find her in her room, with the bruises on her stomach from where Rob Robredo and his friends kicked her. You didn’t find her crying because her so-called friends had abandoned her. You didn’t come home from college and hear how she wished she was never born. “Mom, her name is Emily.”

“Whatever he calls himself these days, I don’t care,” and she took a bite, smiling. “What does Jared think of all this?”

“He loves her. He wonders how someone so nice has a sister like me.”

“Does he know the truth?”

She took a bite. “Yeah, he does. And, to answer the next question, he doesn’t care. He knows she’s her true self now.”

“Well, isn’t that lovely? Her true self. I’m sure your cousins will treat her as kindly.”

Stef put down her fork. “Fuck you, mom,” she hissed, and her mother glared. “It’s like you want something bad to happen to her. You’re her mom, Jesus.”

Her mother scoffed, “You’re putting words in my mouth, Stephanie. And don’t curse.”

“‘I’m sure your cousins will treat her as kindly.’ Would you care to give me an alternate explanation?”

Hissing, “Don’t you dare speak to me that way. I am still your mother.”

“You want her to get beaten? Is that really what you want?”

Now smirking, “I understand that, in your world, Chris is his true self or whatever it is you said,” bitch, “and no, I don’t want anything to happen to him, but guess what? Some people aren’t as enlightened,” the word dripping with contempt, “as you and there’s a finite amount you can do to stop them.”

“Then, they’re not invited. See, simple?”

“Then, we’re not paying for any of it. See, simple?” And she took a bite of her pot pie. “This is really good. Want some,” and she smirked.

“Congrats, mom,” Stephanie said, standing up. “You won.”

Her mother looked at her. “Meaning?”

“You drove away Emmy. You drove away Jordan. Now, you get the hat trick,” and she walked away.

Her mother got up and followed her. “Don’t you walk away from me.” Two older women watched from a nearby table, ‘there but for the grace of god go I’ written on their faces.

Stef stopped in front of their table, knowing how mortified her mother felt in front of complete strangers. “Um, yeah, I’m walking away. And to be clear, I don’t need your money for the wedding. Jared and I do just fine,” and pulling the knife from her sleeve, “his parents have already offered to help us out, no strings attached.” The two women made a show of looking at their plates, their ears perked up.

“We are not having this discussion here, Stephanie,” she said, teeth gritted to the point they should have turned to dust.

Stef took a breath and smiled, “We’re not having any discussion anywhere. My sister is going to be in my wedding.” Now, the women stopped pretending, looking with scorn at Stef’s mom. “You can make whatever decision you see fit about coming. But the decision is made.” The waitress walked past and she said, “Can I have the check please? I think we’re done,” then, looking at her mother, smiling her sweetest smile, “do you want her to box up the pot pie? I know how much you like it.” She paid the bill and left, ignoring the increasingly angry calls for her.

---
Jordan called Stef later. “Hey Jor, everything OK?” She was worried. They never called her, just texted.

“Dad’s losing his shit.” That was Jor. Right to the point.

“She’s a fucking bitch,” Stef said, as Jared walked into the other room.

Jordan laughed, “No shit, Stef. What happened, ‘coz Dad’s all like I have no idea what’s going on and I’m thinking, and you think I know?”

Stef sighed, having gone through this with Jared and Arden. “I told her Emmy was going to be in the wedding.” One word, seven syllables - fuck. “Yeah.” And then she recounted lunch in all its gory detail, Jordan stopping her at…

“She said that?” Their cousins.

“Yeah, she said that.” Stef watched the TV with the sound off, flicking from ‘Say Yes to the Dress.’

She could hear Jordan stand up, their feet hitting the floor with a thud and she hoped Kira wasn’t there. “I will fucking kill anyone who fucking says a fucking word to Emmy, much less,” and she heard their breath get short.

“Jor, calm down.”

Jordan snapped, “Calm down? That fucking bitch thinks it’s OK for those assholes to hurt Emmy and you tell me to calm down?”

Stef took a breath. “I’m as pissed as you are and Jared’s even more pissed although,” and she left off the inevitable, if sad, truth of what would happen.

Jordan laughed, “Yeah, no, that would not be good.”

“What I was going to say was I told her then they’re not invited.”

“Oh,” then, “can you do that?”

Stef sighed. “I don’t wanna, but I’m not letting her do this shit to Ems. I want her there, but I want Emmy and you there more.” Jordan made a retching sound. “Fuck you, asshole. I try and say something sweet and you go do that. Fuck you. Kira can come, not you,” she laughed.

Jordan laughed. “Yeah, that’s definitely the right choice. She really hates her that much? That’s hella messed up,” which made Stef laugh, for the first time all day. “Have you told Emmy any of this?”

“Fuck no,” she said, “you know what she’ll do…”

Jordan, “Yeah,” then, laughing, “if we weren’t twins, I’d think she was adopted,” then, sighing, “Dad’s all upset though.”

“I know and I feel bad for him, but I’m not changing my mind.”

What Jordan said next surprised her. “Good. If you do, I’m not coming.”

“Huh?” She watched as people made out on ‘Below Deck,’ and wondered how much one of these cruises cost. Charter a yacht, get married there.

“You heard me. If Emmy isn’t in the wedding, I’m not coming.” She laughed and they said, “what’s so funny?”

“You. You’re so funny. You really care about her, don’t you?”

A laugh. “You wonder why I never call. Now, you know.”

“Jordan loves their sister,” she sang, “now there’s something no one ever expected.”

“Fuck you, Stef,” they laughed, then, “later.”

“I love you, Jordan,” she said.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Now, more seriously. “No, seriously, I do and thanks.”

“Love you too, you freak,” and they hung up.

Emily Berrigan is a 23 year old transwoman, who hasn't seen her twin Jordan in six years. Not since she told her parents the truth about herself and they threw her out. Her older sister is getting married and wants Emily there - as a bridesmaid. Will sparks fly?
----
Stef reconciles with her mother (sort of). Jordan tells Kira about Emily. Duncan moves away for a new job. Oh, and Emily gets The Operation.

---
Emily checked her savings account, and her eyes widened. Enough, enough, enough, she began singing to herself, I have enough. Between insurance and this, she could have the surgery and stay out of the office for a week or so.

She called insurance, just to be sure, then, satisfied, called her endocrinologist to get the name of the surgeon (‘it’s the same as the last three times,’ his assistant teased). Then, she called the surgeon (‘hi, my name is Emily Berrigan and I would like to schedule a gender confirmation consult,’ she said brightly) and made an appointment for next Tuesday. Next Tuesday, when I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel, she thought, then giggled at the metaphor.

She went to call Duncan, then paused. It's not like he didn't know, obviously he did, not that he ever touched it, but he obviously knew. But this was something else. She put down the phone.

---
“Four weeks,” she told Marissa and Shaye. “The doctor said that he can do it in four weeks, maybe sooner if he gets a cancellation.”

“That's amazing,” Marissa said, as she gave her a hug. “Emily’s finally getting a chooch,” she joked.

Shaye laughed, “Does he get cancellations? Like, I came this far but I decided, never mind?”

Emily laughed, “Shut UP! I don't know, maybe someone gets cold feet or their insurance says no or I don't know. Four weeks and I'm…” She paused, “I'm not freaking you guys out, am I?”

They both groaned, then Shaye touched her arm. “Emily, as far as we're concerned, this is cosmetic surgery for you, like Botox or something.”

Marissa smiled. “Exactly. It's like that surgery we saw on Discovery, where they tightened up that woman's vagina.” Emily remembered the two of them watching, horrified, Marissa asking whether guys were falling in. She smiled, “We're just fixing yours.” Emily teared up, touched. “Do not get all hormonal on me.”

“It's just... I can't believe it's finally here and you guys are just so,” and she started crying in gratitude.

Shaye hugged her close, then teased her about cramps.

---

“We watched the commercial online,” Aunt Jeannie said.

“And?” Emily waited expectantly.

Jeannie laughed, “You were awful. You'll probably never work again,” and Emily laughed. “You were amazing.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” then, “you really think so?”

“Yes,” she smiled, “I totally believed it. I totally believed you were a waitress. So, when we saw you in the restaurant, was that preparing for your role?”

Emily laughed and played with her hair. “Totally. An actor prepares,” she said, in a haughty tone. “Did Uncle Rob watch it? What did he think?”

Jeannie laughed. “He showed it to people. He's really proud of you.”

She felt herself tear up. “Really?”

A mock sigh. “You're not tearing up again?”

Emily laughed. “Stupid hormones,” which got a laugh, “how's Liam? How's the college search going?”

A pause. Then, “Funny you should ask. We are coming there next month to look at schools.”

Teasing, “USC is a top tier school.”

“That's what I said,” Jeannie laughed, “and the lawyer said the divorce won't take long at all. Nah, UCLA, Chapman and Pepperdine. Can we see you?”

Emily smiled, “Of course! I can't believe you'd even ask that,” then, “will Liam be ok with it?”

A confused tone, “Why wouldn't he be?”

“I just…”

“He's a very chill kid. When I told him we saw you, he just said ‘cool’ and has called you ‘she’ and ‘her’ ever since,” then, pausing, “I assume that's not an issue, that we told him.”

“No, why would it be?”

“I just, when I read about it on-line, they talked about your journey and all that…”

Emily smiled, touched. “Nah, it's cool,” then, in a lighter tone, “it would be kind of a big surprise to drop on him when he got here.” She looked down at her legs, peeking from her dress and wondered what he'd say when he actually saw her. “Seriously though, he's ok with it?”

“First, it's not for him or us or anyone to be ok with, just you, sweetie,” and Em smiled. “Second, he's not a big fan of the Nehlens either,” she laughed. “Calls them knuckle-draggers. He said he's looking forward to meeting a normal one...so I lied for you.”

Em laughed and thanked her. They talked for a while about work and Duncan and the wedding, filling a hole Em had forgotten was there. She debated telling her about the surgery, repeatedly stopping and starting, and ultimately deciding TMI.

After twenty minutes, Jeannie said, “I'll let you go. I love you.”

“I love you too. Tell Uncle Rob I love him too.”

She hung up the phone and looked at the selfie from the construction site and smiled.

Then, she called her back. “Hey, sweetie,” Aunt Jeannie said, “long time, no speak. What’s up?”

She paused. “I meant to tell you I’m, uh, having surgery next month.”

Jeannie sounded worried, “Everything OK?”

Emily paused, “Yeah, it’s the, uh, elective,” not really, not if she wanted to do more than survive, “surgery.”

“Oh,” Jeannie said, “will you be OK to go around with us?”

“Um, yeah?”

“OK. That’s great news then. When?”

Emily paused, “Four weeks.”

Jeannie, “How long is recovery time?”

Emily stammered, “They said like ten days.”

“Oh, OK. We’re coming, hang on, let me check, in six weeks, so you’ll be all healed hopefully.”

Emily looked at herself in the mirror, shocked, “I hope so. Really, this isn’t TMI?”

Jeannie laughed, “Do I want to see pictures of the surgery? No, I can’t handle blood, but other than that, no.” Then, a sigh, “one more time, Emmy. You are my niece. This is something you want, sorry, need, right?”

Emily, smiling nervously, “Yeah.”

“Then, that’s it. I mean, I’m not telling Rob everything...because men are such wusses,” she laughed. “Emmy, I am so happy and proud of you for doing this. You are an incredible young woman, and this is just one step,” then, an exasperated sigh, “you had better not be crying.”

“No,” she whimpered. “I'm not. I love you.”

“I love you too, Emmy.”

“And I want you to know how happy I am that you came into the restaurant that night and that you said something…”

“OK, stop…”

“No, I mean I can't imagine my life now without you two…”

Now, with crying, “Dammit, Emmy. It wasn't enough for you to cry, you had to make me cry too…”

“Sorry,” and she smiled, wiping away tears.

“Don't be,” she said. “We love you, Emily. Unconditionally. Now, I'm going before you cry again.”

--
Jordan and Kira were in Jordan's place, watching TV. Jordan turned off the TV. “We need to talk.”

Kira looked at them, concerned, “What's wrong? Are you ok?”

Jordan looked at her. “I'm fine.”

Kira played with her hair, pulling on a lock of it. “You're not breaking up with me, are you? Because…” And they could see her getting agitated.

Jordan looked at her. “No no no. Definitely not,” then, “although who knows what'll happen when I say what I need to say.”

Kira smiled. “You're going to jail?”

Jordan smiled, “No, not that. But, let me speak…”

“You want an open relationship? Because I don't share…”

“Two of you? One's enough, thanks,” and she hit them, “but seriously, let me just say this.” Kira smiled. God, they loved her smile, the warmth suffusing them. They hoped this wasn't it. Emmy told them they were being crazy, that there was no way that she wouldn't be cool with it, but she was there, not here. They took a deep breath. “So here goes, Emily is trans.”

Kira looked at them. “She wants to be a boy? But you said she's super-girly. Ok, well, whatever works for her. Or him.”

“No, Emmy used to be Chris,” and they laughed a little, “that sounds weird to me. Well, she really wasn’t ever Chris, as far as I’m concerned, but anyway she’s trans.”

Kira looked at them. “OK.”

They looked. “What does OK mean?”

Kira turned to face them, knees tucked under her, “It means OK. So your sister is trans. It makes no difference whatsoever to me.” Then, she looked upset. “Why did you think it would?”

Jordan tensed, “I didn't think you would. I just thought that you should, y’know, know. And now you do.”

Kira smiled. “Do you have a picture of her?”

“Why?” Jordan imagined the worst, then realized how that sounded. “Let me check my phone,” and they flicked through, landing on one of her in a green short-sleeved dress, hair down and smiling.

They held out the phone and Kira looked at Emily appraisingly. “She's really cute,” then grinning, “you look nothing alike.”

Jordan laughed, “Not at all. She takes after my mom's family.”

Kira took their hand, “Why didn't you want to tell me?”

Jordan hemmed and hawed, “I dunno. It's just, I don't know…”

Kira looked into their eyes, radiating compassion, “Were you not supposed to? You know I won't say anything, right?”

Jordan looked down, then willed themself to look into her eyes. “It's not a secret, I mean Emmy doesn't publicize it, but it's not a secret and she said it was OK…”

Kira leaned forward, hands on Jordan's knees, “Then what?”

“I like you a lot,” they blurted out.

Kira smiled, “I like you a lot too, Jor.”

Jordan felt knocked back onto their heels. “I just didn't want you to realize how screwed up,” I am, “my family is.”

Kira pulled herself into their lap. “You're not screwed up. So, your sister is trans. So what? I'm one to judge?” And she kissed them lightly on the lips.

Jordan wondered how they got so lucky and prayed that they wouldn't say anything stupid. “I guess.”

“Jor, stop,” then, “I guess that's why they don't speak with her, huh?” Jordan nodded, feeling no need to state the obvious. “That's too bad.” Another nod. “Do you not want to talk about it?”

Jordan looked at her. “I hate that they don't, but I can't do too much, y'know?”

“She's lucky to have you.”

They smiled. “Yeah, she is.”

Kira smiled and started tickling them. “Yeah, she is? You're horrible.”

Jordan, squirming. “I am. And I'm not ticklish,” they laughed.

Kira, now on top of them, “Yes, you are. And take back what you said.”

Jordan, stifling laughs. “Why?”

Kira, now climbing all over them.”It's mean.”

Jordan, now tickling her and feeling her squirm, “Actually, it's median.”

Kira, now kissing them, “You're weird.”

“And you're here. What does that say?” Their hands now under her shirt, unclasping their bra.

“I have low self-esteem,” she laughed. They were still amazed at how comfortable she was in her own skin.

“You really do,” they smiled, kissing her collarbone. And, to be clear, they thought, I'm lucky to have Em and Stef, but they weren't going to say that now.

---
Saturday morning, Stephanie sat on the Green Line, as it pulled out from Lake Street, looking out at the empty office buildings. You could stare into the windows of some of the older ones. On someone’s monitor, she could make out a picture of what looked like a man and a woman on a boat.

She should’ve been asleep, the week having been incredibly long, five fourteen hour days, or at least in bed with Jared. Except she wasn’t. She was on a train to Oak Park to see her father, at his demand or at least pleading. She thought about it and couldn’t remember the last time they had spent any time alone together, maybe a drive to Ann Arbor sophomore year, when mom had to deal with Em and Jordan. She remembered the frustrated phone calls about soccer practice, the exasperation and loathing palpable.

She stared out the window as the stations rolled past, the old station house at the Conservatory stop. Cicero, where Al Capone was from, and so on, until they pulled into Harlem station. She had always liked Oak Park, all of the Frank Lloyd Wright buildings, supposedly the most in one place anywhere in the world, all uncluttered and clean. She remembered that party when she was a summer associate, the one at the Rookery Building, the way the light flowed in. She wondered how much it would cost to rent for the wedding and then shook her head. That was for the kids of Jared’s bosses, not her and Jared.

She got off at Harlem/Lake - the end of the line - and began walking up Marion to the restaurant. She had no idea of this place was any good, she never came out here and no one she knew lived here, but it was a compromise with her father, so he didn’t have to drive through the city. She had found this place on-line and it looked good although it seemed difficult to fuck up an omelette.

As she got to the restaurant, she saw the neon sign saying ‘restaurant’ in old-time script over the awning. She wondered whether it was a legit old sign or just some affectation. The awning looked pretty beat up, so that was a good sign, she decided. She saw her dad standing there, looking around. “Hey, daddy,” she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Hey, Steffie.” Then, concerned, “Why wouldn’t you let me pick you up at the station?”

“Because,” she smiled, “it is literally over there, like a five minute walk,” and she pointed. “I was fine.”

He smiled, “I worry about you.”

“Don’t,” she said indulgently. “You wanna go in?” They walked in and were led to their table, dad always sitting with his back to the door.

They were studying the menus, when her father said, “This needs to stop, Steffie.”

She looked around the restaurant, at the other diners, laughing and talking. She almost said, ‘what,’ but that wasn’t fair. She and her mother hadn’t spoken for over two weeks. “I didn’t start it.”

He took a sip of his water, and looked around for the waitress for coffee. “That’s not what I heard…”

Reverting to 15, “That’s not true and you know it...sorry,” and she looked down, “but…”

He smiled, “What I was going to say before I was interrupted,” and she smiled, taking him in. He was definitely over 50, but the gray at his temples made him look distinguished. She remembered that weird father-daughter dance in seventh grade, how much better looking he was than the other dads, “is that she is making me miserable and I am asking you to make me less miserable.”

She sighed, “I would love to, but we’re at an impasse here, daddy.” The waitress came over and took their coffee orders, ‘just coffee’ for him, vanilla latte for her, and she continued, “What do you want me to do?”

He drank his coffee. How he could drink it black was beyond her, even now after years of drinking coffee, but he did. “You’re really going to have Chris as a bridesmaid?”

Her jaw clenched and she took a sharp breath, then exhaled. “Her name is Emily, daddy. Don’t you start with me too.”

He took a breath, and she watched his chest expand on the intake and contract on the breath out. He repeated this three times before he spoke. “Sorry. Emily.”

“Thank you.”

The waitress came and took their orders, pancakes with bacon cooked inside for him (‘can you eat that?’) and a poblano omelette for her. After the waitress walked away, he continued, “But it doesn’t change the question. You’re really going to have Emily as a bridesmaid?”

Steffie drank her latte. “Of course I am. She’s my sister. You wouldn’t be asking me if it was Jordan.”

He laughed loudly, and people looked. “Um, yeah, I would. You would have an easier time getting Kev or Petey,” her cousins, “into a dress. And they’d probably look better.” She laughed and he continued, “I know that you think of him, her, them like your sister.”

Stef stared at him. “Are you trying to get me not to talk to you too?”

“No. I mean, I am sure that you think of them like a sister. And that they think of you like a sister, I mean, like they’re your sister, but not everyone is going to be so kind.”

Stef glared at him. “That’s what she said. Do you want to see Emily get beaten up too?”

He looked at her and sharply, “No, Stephanie, I don’t. And neither your mother or I would let that happen, despite what you think. But guess what? I can’t stop anyone from being an asshole, from saying things and neither can you, despite what you think.”

She looked at him. “Then they don’t have to come. And despite what you and she think, I don’t want to hurt either one of you and I know that not having them would hurt you a lot. But it would hurt me and Emily more if she wasn’t in the wedding…”

She watched him look around the room, the way he took in all the construction details and she imagined him cataloging all the mistakes the contractor made. “Have you asked her what she thinks?”

The question threw her, but to regroup, “Excuse me?”

He looked at her. “You heard me,” and he took a sip of his coffee, “did you ask her what she thinks about it?”

She took a sip of her latte. “She’s excited.”

“I’m sure,” and he paused, “she is. That doesn’t surprise me. But did you ask her about the other stuff, about how you’re not talking to your mother?” When she said nothing, he smiled, “Why not?”

“Because,” and the waitress came with a basket of cinnamon bread. She watched him take a piece and butter it, and she debated how devoted she was to cutting out carbs, “it’s irrelevant.”

He smiled, “What did Arden have to say about it?”

“What does that have to do with anything,” pausing, “assuming I said anything?”

He laughed, “I know how stupid you and your mother think I am,” and she felt herself flush, “but I have learned some things over the years. What does Arden say about it?”

She sighed, “She thinks mom is wrong for what she said…”

He kept smiling, “Mmm, this is good bread. And?”

“And she thinks I should talk this out with her.”

He smiled, “I always thought she was smart. What about Chr...Emily?”

“She thinks she has the right to know,” and she took a piece of bread, and buttered it. “I miss bread,” she sighed, and then, “I know what Emily will do and I don’t want her to. I know neither of you wants to deal with it, but you didn’t hear how happy she sounded.” She watched his face contort. “What?”

“This,” he sighed, “is a lot for me to take in, Stephanie. I understand that you have and that’s great, but this, Jordan, all of it is a lot for me.”

Stephanie smiled, “They’re both really happy.”

He shrugged, then, “You’re really hurting your mother, you know that.”

“You weren’t there. I know you’ll take her side but she said some really nasty things to me.”

He laughed, “And you said nothing whatsoever, Dori,” her grandmother’s name.

She rolled her eyes. “No need to get nasty. And, god, that’s your mom. Jeez, you’re a terrible son,” a running family joke. “Fine, I may not have been perfect but she was just...hateful.”

“Like I said, it’s a lot to process for us, whether you like it or not. But I’m asking you, for me, to call her.”

The waitress put their food down and her father took a bite and smiled. “Try this.”

She remembered going to breakfast with her father when the twins were born. The way after he’d take her with him to the store and ask her to help him pick stuff out because ‘mom needs you to help me.’ She took a bite, “Oh, you shouldn’t have made me.”

He smiled, “Why?”

“Because now I want these and I can’t have them because of the carbs.”

He laughed, “I won’t tell anyone if you won’t. Think I can get your mom to make these for me?”

She smiled, “Good luck. Tell her I’ll call her if she does.”

He touched her hand and smiled, “That’s my girl.”

----
Emily and Duncan were lying in bed, her head resting on his shoulder. They had been rehashing the day’s events, the crabby partner who wanted Emily to work through lunch, the busboy who quit, screaming, when Emily, looking at the ceiling, said, “So I scheduled my surgery.”

He turned to look at her, concerned. “You need surgery? For what?”

She looked at the ceiling, at the little stucco stalactites hanging down, “My...surgery.”

“Oh...Oh...your surgery.” She watched as his legs clenched involuntarily.

“Sorry,” she said, snuggling up closer. “I didn’t mean to just throw it on you like that.”

He relaxed his legs a little. “You didn’t. I guess I had just stopped thinking about that,” and his legs clenched again.

She smiled. “That’s the nicest thing you could have said.”

He stared at her, confused, “Huh?”

She went to explain and then, staring at the picture of Wrigley Field on his wall, stopped. “Never mind,” and she kissed his cheek.

He rolled her towards him. “So when?”

She looked at him. “Four weeks from this past Tuesday.”

“Cool,” then grinning, “so how long before…”

She laughed. “I knew it would come to that,” because it was the question she couldn’t wait to ask the surgeon, “three months.”

He looked at her, with sad eyes, “Really? Three months?” His face was a blank mask, “That sucks.”

She grinned devilishly. “There are things we can do while we wait.”

He looked at her. “Oh really?”

“Yeah,” she said, “we can watch TV or play XBox…” He shook his head. “Duncan Connell, what sort of girl do you take me for? Do you think I’m the sort of girl...well, I never,” she harrumphed. Then, grinning, she started kissing his chest, “Maybe I should…”

He grinned and began pushing her head south, “Maybe. Who knows, you might like being that sort of girl?”

She started kissing down his chest, headed towards his groin, taking him in her mouth. She listened to him groan in pleasure, as she licked the shaft and played with his balls. Then, she felt him tense up and the cum hit her throat.

She actually didn’t mind giving head, liking the control it gave her. She looked up at him grinning, and she swallowed. She took a gulp of water from her water bottle and smiled. “So that’s the one of things we can do while we wait.”

Contentedly, he said, “Definitely more fun than XBox,” then, “are you scared?”

She stared at Wrigley Field, the picture reminding her of home, the twice a year trips to a game, trying and failing to keep score, waiting for ‘Take Me Out to the Ball Game’ so she could sing. “Not really. I mean, if there was a non-surgical way to do it, I’d do that, but I’ve been wai...you sure that this isn’t too much for you?”

He pulled her in close, and she nestled happily. “I mean, I don’t want to know all the details or probably most of them, but I can be all supportive and shit,” he grinned.

She looked at him, and ran her left hand through his hair, “The ‘and shit’ makes it work. But, to finish, no I’m not scared.” She chose her next words carefully. “I’m ready, y’know?”

He smiled and kissed her.

---
Emily sat in the coffee shop, one of those fake mid-century designs that apparently sprung up after ‘Pulp Fiction,’ most of which had become banks or hookah bars or whatever. A cup of tea and an English muffin with grape jelly sat in front of her. Across from her was the kid from the commercial, the P.A., wearing a blue pocket t-shirt and jeans. Emily had worn her blue floral print dress, not too short, and flats, her hair down.

“So, what did you think of the script?” He asked this just as she took a bite of her muffin.

She swallowed. “It was good. Very interesting. Kayla,” her character, “is really complex.”

He smiled, “That’s what we’re going for. Everyone always thinks of cheerleaders as these airheads, which they are,” and she almost interrupted him, “but the whole idea with Kayla is that she’s this Type A genius too, trying to get out. Do you understand?”

She smiled. “Vaguely.” He stared, “That was a joke. Yes, I understand her.” She almost went off on Susan Sontag and the male gaze, to give him the film school BS she was sure he spouted all the time at parties. “She’s the kid in a family with an older sister who’s making all these bad choices and these parents who should never have had kids. It’s almost like her form of rebellion is to strive to get out, but she’s got all of these countervailing forces that work against her.”

He nodded and smiled. “You’ve really got it down,” then, “have you ever done cheerleading before?”

She sighed, “Yeah.” And then she took a sip of her tea and a bite of her English muffin.

A week later, a package arrived in the mail from Stef. She read the note on top - ‘You should have had this nine years ago.’ Inside was her old cheerleading uniform, a faded ‘DHS Cheer’ t-shirt that she remembered Stef wearing whenever she practiced in the backyard and her old jacket with ‘captain’ on the top left over the black and orange old English D, and ‘Barbs Cheer’ on the back. She put on the t-shirt and a pair of shorts, and began practicing, remembering the cheers Stef had taught her when no one was home.

---
Two weeks later, Duncan came over. She met him at the door with a big hug and kiss, but felt a tension in him when he reciprocated. She pulled back and looked up, “What’s wrong?”

“I had a long day at work,” he looked over her head, and just stood there.

“Are you coming in?”

He smiled, “It was really long,” and walked in. “Where did you get that shirt?”

She was wearing the DHS Cheer shirt. “Stef sent it, to help me get in character,” and she did a couple of the old cheer moves that she remembered from the backyard. She finished and he smiled. “How was I?”

“Good, really good.”

She looked at his face, at his eyes. “What's wrong, Dunky?”

He shook his head and smiled, “It was mad busy today.”

She put her lower lip over her top one. “Poor Dunky. You want a back rub?” Without waiting, she moved behind him. “Sit down, and let Nurse Emmy give you a back rub.” She started rubbing his shoulders, “Wow, you're really tense. What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said, “But keep doing this.”

“You were just trying to get a back rub, weren't you?” Then, she kissed his neck and bit his ear.

“Excuse me,” he laughed, “I didn't say anything about that.”

“Oh well,” she teased, “I can stop. Just a back rub it is,” and she kept massaging. “You know this works better if you try and relax.”

“Sorry,” he joked. “How was work?”

“Hella busy. I had that brief to work on,” and she went off about one of the associates, who did everything at the last second and made it so she had to stay late. After five more minutes, she stopped and moved next to him. “OK, what's going on?”

“Nothing.”

She looked into his eyes. “Stop. Whatever it is, it can't be that bad.”

He looked down. “So, they offered me a sous chef job, I’ll be a real second in command…”

She grinned, “Ohmigosh, that’s so amazing. Where? Century City?” He shook his head. “Santa Monica?” He shook his head again. “Where?”

“Santa Barbara.” 90 miles and two hours away, if you were lucky.

“Oh,” and she looked at him. “Oh. I mean, of course, you’re taking it.”

He took her hand. “I don’t want to leave you.”

Her heart was in her throat, sharing space with her lunch. “You can’t not take this, Duncan. This is huge.”

“I know,” and now he looked over her shoulder. “But I hate that it’s in Santa Barbara.”

She bit her tongue to stop herself. “It’s not that far…”

He smiled and lied, “We can see each other on weekends and stuff. You can come up, I can come down.”

“Definitely,” she lied. “That’s definitely what we’ll,” won’t, “do. It’s nice up there. We can go to the wineries and stuff.” She stood up and he sat there, both feet planted on the floor. “Are you coming in?”

He looked down. “Do you want me to?”

Well, how am I supposed to chain you to the bed otherwise? “Of course I do.”

“I just thought,” and he started walking in, “that you’d be upset with me.”

“How could I be upset with you?” She willed back tears. “This is a huge deal. Would you be upset if I got a movie or a series or something?”

He kissed her. “Of course not! That’s your dream.”

She smiled, “Well, this is yours, so I’m behind you 100%. When does it start?”

He sat on the bed and took a deep breath, “Two weeks.”

And she felt like she’d been punched. “Oh.”

“I can see if I can move it back. I mean I wanna be…”

She held up her hand, and tried not to cry. “No, this is big. I will be fine. Besides,” and she tried to smile devilishly, “I need you here three months,” now an eternity “after that more.”

He laughed mirthlessly. “Yeah, that’s definitely more important.”

She smiled weakly. “You’re not backing out on me, are you?”

He laughed, “No, of course not.”

“Good,” and she buried her head in his chest, crying.

“I’m sorry, Emmy.”

From deep in his shirt, she sniffled, “No. Don’t be. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t be crying.” She looked up at him, her eyes red, “this is a big deal and you should be happy. Because I’m happy for you.”

He smiled, “I just hate that…”

She smiled and kissed him, “Don’t hate anything. You are going to become the hottest chef in Santa Barbara and then they’ll move you back here and then everything will be,” totally shitty, “great.” She kissed him again, as hard as she could, and could feel their tongues twisted together. She felt him put his hands under her shirt, as he began playing with her nipples. “Mmm, keep doing that…” And she sat in his lap and started pulling his shirt off, feeling his erection. Which made her think again. Which made her resolve to focus on anything else.

She faced away from the mirror, as he stood behind her, pumping away. For the first time in their relationship, she felt absent, like she was watching someone else.

She felt the shudder and then him pulling out. She went to the bathroom, cleaned up, then came back and curled into his waiting bulk. She fell asleep with his arm draped over her.

---
“You sure you don’t want me there?” Jared asked, as Stephanie got dressed to go to her mother.

She pulled on her jeans and white t-shirt, and walked over, kissing him on the cheek. “My big, strong man,” she teased, “I’ll be fine, baby.”

He grabbed her ass and she jumped. “I know you’ll be fine. I just meant for, y’know, moral support or whatever.”

She laughed. “It’ll be fine. Enjoy the day. Besides, you have plans,” to go to the park and then watch a baseball game at the bar, but plans nevertheless.

He smiled. “You’ll call if you need me?”

She finished putting on lip gloss and kissed him on the lips. “Yes. It’ll be fine,” she said, as she began moving her keys and wallet from one bag to another, not wanting to hear her mother’s comments again about the Louis Vuitton purse Jared’s mom had bought her in Paris for Hanukkah/Christmas, despite the fact that it was no big deal because of the exchange rate and everything.

She took the car keys off the table by the door and went down to the garage to get the car.

Ninety minutes later, and a stop at Dunkin’ Donuts for an iced coffee, she pulled up. She took a deep breath and walked in. “Anyone here?” Her mother came downstairs, and gave her a hug. “Hi, ma,” and she kissed her cheek.

“I’ve missed you.” It had been three weeks since they had last spoken.

Stef smiled, “I’ve missed you too,” then, remembering Macy’s, “but that doesn’t change things.”

Her mom smiled, “Well, I see we’ve decided to pick up where we left off…”

Stef took a deep breath and looked around the room, eyes alighting on the TV, running CNN like it was the airport. “I’m not picking up from where we left off, but I’m not playing some stupid game,” hearing her 16 year old self and cringing, “but I don’t see a point to ignoring what brought this all about in the first place.”

“Stephanie, I’m sorry that I don’t understand why you’re doing this. It’s your wedding…”

Stephanie looked at her. “You’re right, it is. It’s my wedding and Emily is going to be a bridesmaid.”

“Why would you subject,” a pause, “her to that abuse?”

Stephanie had spent the past three weeks thinking of her response, having written it out on legal pads and testing it on Jared and Arden. “Mom,” she said, “would you agree that there’s no circumstance under which I’m not having her at the wedding?” Her mother laughed. “Yes or no, would you agree?”

Her mother rolled her eyes. “Yes. I would agree.”

“And would you further agree that, given those circumstances, if the family was there, that they would have a negative reaction to her, upon seeing her?”

Her mother laughed again and, before Stef could say anything, “Yes, counselor, I would agree that they would have a ‘negative reaction,’ to put it mildly. Which is why...”

Stef held up her hand and continued, “Would you further agree that their negative reaction would not be appreciably worse whether she was in the wedding or merely a guest?”

Her mother looked at her. “No.”

Stef stopped, not having prepared for this. “No what?”

Her mother looked at her. “No, I wouldn’t agree.”

16 year old Stef, returning, “How can you say that?”

Her mom looked at her. “I can tell you’ve prepared this speech. Well, so have I.” To Stef’s open mouth, she said, “I know you think you sprang fully formed, sweetie. You didn’t. But to continue, they are going to be pieces of shit, no matter what and you know that. But, if she walks down the aisle, they are going to be even bigger pieces of shit and they are going to laugh and make comments and it won’t stop, not when you walk down the aisle, not when the priest or the rabbi or whoever is talking, they won’t stop…”

“But…”

“But nothing. Stef, you’re smarter than that and you know it and you know however bad you think they are, they can be much, much worse. And I know you care for them…”

“Her,” Stef mumbled.

“Excuse me?”

“Jordan’s them. Emily’s her.”

Her mother rolled her eyes. “Are you still a ‘her?’”

Eye roll back. “Yes.”

“Good. I need to keep track. Anyway, I know you care for her but do you really think she’s going to be OK with that? Really?”

“Yes. You don’t know her. She’s not the same person you knew. She’s tougher than that.”

Her mother looked at her. “We were all at the same holidays and I know what went on when all you kids were downstairs.”

Stef looked around. “What does Aunt Jackie have to say about this?” Her mother looked down and she took the opportunity. “What does she have to say?”

Her mother shook her head. “She thinks we’re both being ridiculous.”

Grinning triumphantly. “That means she thinks I’m right and you’re wrong!” Now, she was 14. Her mother picked up her phone off the coffee table. “What are you doing?”

“Calling Jackie,” she grinned. “You can ask her yourself.”

Stef sighed and looked at the President on CNN, answering questions in front of Marine One. “What did she say?”

Her mother moved over and patted her knee. “Well, to be fair, I’ll tell you what she said about me first. She said that I am acting like a jackass, that Chr...Emily is my...child and that this has gone on long enough…” Stef grinned and her mom continued, “but she also said that you are pigheaded…”

Stef laughed. “She called me pigheaded? Ouch.”

Her mother laughed, “Oh, it’s worse than that, sweetie. What she said was that you are your grandma Dori filtered through me and then again through law school. I think she said, exactly, ‘you’re a bitch, Dori’s a bitch and you’ve created superbitch…”

Laughing, “Oh, fuck her.”

Her mother, laughing, “Don’t curse. It’s obnoxious. She also said that you need to talk to your sister and ask her. Not tell her, ask her.”

“I don’t tell her things,” she harrumphed half-heartedly.

“I’m a younger sister,” she laughed. “Save it for someone who doesn’t know better.”

Walking into the kitchen to get a glass of water. “I’m not not having her in my wedding.”

Her mother followed her in. “I will make you a deal…”

“This isn’t a negotiation, mom,” she said, as she let the water run to get cold.

“No, it isn’t, I guess. I will make you a deal though. If you talk to...Emily, I will.”

She choked on her water. “What?”

Her mother looked at her. “If you talk to her, I’ll talk to her. If, after you really talk to her, she still wants to be in the wedding, I won’t say anything.” Stef looked at her, dubiously. “I mean it. I think, and will continue to think, that it’s a huge mistake, but it’s your mistake to make and I’ll support you in it.”

Stef tried to read her face, and found nothing. If she was lying, she was better than she gave her credit for. Tentatively, “Do you want to see a picture of her?”

Her mother, head in the refrigerator, said, “I’m not there yet.”

“Seriously?”

She stood up, wheel of brie in hand. “Stephanie, I’m willing to do this if you are. But, on my schedule, not yours.”

She took a breath. “Fine, I think you’re being ridiculous.”

Her mother, now taking crackers out of the pantry. “I’m sure you do.”

“What would you have done if Grandma Linda did this to you?”

Her mother, fanning the crackers out even though it was just the two of them, “If your uncle decided he was a girl and I decided that I wanted a hideous looking bridesmaid…”

“Emmy’s not hideous, she’s really cute…”

Cutting off a piece of brie and making a little sandwich, and then handing it to Stef, “I’m not talking about that, I’m talking about your uncle who would not be cute, but if I wanted him or some other person who wasn’t a,” pause, “traditional bridesmaid and your grandmother fought me on it, well, I don’t know what I would have done. I will be honest. I don’t know. It wasn’t an option, I had Jackie, Karen,” her best friend, “and them,” her aunts.

“Sorry.”

Her mother smiled and nodded. “Not as much as I was. Can we talk about the wedding? Have you looked anywhere yet? Places book up.”

“We’ve looked at a few places. The Botanic Garden looked nice.”

“That is very nice,” her mother said, “so you’re thinking outdoors.”

Cutting off another piece of cheese, “Maybe. I don’t know. I know I don’t want some boring hotel ballroom.”

Her mother smiled, “I’ll let you in on a secret. When it’s all said and done, you won’t remember all of that. You’ll remember your family and friends.”

---------
“Nope,” Emily said, in response to the question.

“What do you mean, ‘nope?’” Stef was driving home.

“You heard me, Stef. I don’t want to talk to her.”

Stef sighed, then laughed, “Do you know how much I did to get her to talk to you?” She looked for a parking lot to pull into, not having expected this outcome.

Emily laughed, “I’m sure, but that doesn’t mean I want to talk to her.”

Stef pulled into the parking lot at Walgreens, watching the old people go in and out, wondering if that’s what aging was. Trips to the drugstore. “Come on. Really? You’re gonna have to talk to her at the wedding.” She could hear Emily breathing. “Emmy? Are you still there?”

Another ten seconds, “Yeah. I am. I was thinking.”

She watched a mother unload one kid out of a car seat, while yelling at her other one not to run in the parking lot. “Why not? I mean, why don’t you want to talk to her?”

“She cut me off. Six years ago, she cut me off.” She could hear the anger and pain, remembering how Emily went away to school and never came back.

“She’s trying to make amends,” she lied.

Emmy’s voice got hard. “No, she isn’t and you know it. You’re forcing her to do it.”

Stef looked up through the moonroof of the car, at a plane heading to O’Hare. “But she’s willing.”

“Yeah, well, what brought this on?”

“Jeez, am I talking to Jordy?” She tried to joke.

“Jordy wouldn’t put up with this shit and neither am I. What is it she wants?”

Stef paused, “She wants me to talk to you about being a bridesmaid.”

Emmy’s voice caught. “What? What does that mean? You don’t want me?” She heard her start sniffling.

“No! Absolutely 100% not. If you’re not part of the wedding, there is no wedding, as far as I’m concerned.”

Crying, “Then what?”

Stef paused, trying to think about how to say it, then decided on bluntness. “She thinks that they are going to lose their shit when you walk down the aisle and make it a total shitshow.”

Now, the edge back, “Do you think that?”

“I don’t care.”

“I didn’t ask if you cared. Do you think that?”

Pausing, “Where did this Emmy come from?”

No laughter, just, “I asked if you think that.”

“Yeah, probably, to be honest,” she took a sip of her now watery formerly iced coffee and grimaced.

She could hear Emily think. “What do you want?”

“I told you. It’s my wedding. You and Arden and Brooke and Jamie.”

“Even if they make a total scene and ruin it? Really?”

“Do you want out?”

She floored her with, “Do you think I don’t know what those mouth-breathing trash think of me?”

She laughed, “Excuse me, there’s only room for one bitch in this family. Two, if you count mom.”

“I don’t,” she said, without affect. “But I know exactly what they think of me and I’m pretty sure of what they’ll do. But, you know what, it won’t be worse than what they did to me before.”

“For real, Emmy?” She watched as someone pushed a cart with a wheel that kept spinning in a circle. Lock the wheel, she thought.

“Yeah. I wanna do this,” then the regular Emmy poked through, “but if you tell me you don’t want them to ruin the ceremony, I won’t be part of it.”

“No,” Stef said, “absolutely no effing way. You’re in. If they start, they’re out.”

“Are you really sure?” Emmy’s sweetness returning. “I really mean it.”

“Me too, Ems. You really won’t talk to her?”

Sighing, “I really don’t want to. What’s she going to say to me?”

Pausing, “Yeah, I don’t know. Sorry I even asked.”

Emmy, “No, it’s OK. I get why you did. If you want me to, I will.”

She wished she was here, or she was there, so that she could hug her. “No. I’m not gonna force you,” knowing how awkward it would be. “What else is going on?”

A laugh, then, “ten days to V-Day.”

“Yay!” She paused, thinking about how absurd it sounded. Then again, she couldn’t wait for a training bra. “What’s up with Duncan?”

She heard Emily sigh. “I miss him already, and he’s not even gone.”

She pictured Emily on her bed, lying on her stomach, face in the pillow, the way that she always did when she was sad. “I know, sweetie. I wish I was there to hug you.”

“Thanks. This is what’s best for him, I know that.”

She watched as someone came out, balancing a case of water on top of the cart, slowly edging the cart down the ramp. Then, watching as the case fell off and split, bottles rolling away. She debated getting out to help. “It doesn’t mean you’re not entitled to hate it happening.”

“I know,” she sighed. “And he keeps trying but it’s not the same. Part of me just wants to break up with him so it’s done.”

Her heart was breaking. Emmy was in love for the first time and she was 2,000 miles away. At least when it happened to her - at 16 - she had her mother. “Can I tell you what mom told me when Brent broke up with me?”

Sighing, “Why not? I’m already in a bad mood.”

“You can’t have rainbows without rain.”

Emily laughed. “That may be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Stef laughed. “See? You feel better already! I’m going to Venmo you some money to go shopping.”

“No,” Emily laughed. “That’s silly.”

Stef put her on speaker. “I wanna. Come on. Go with Marissa and Shaye and get something,” and she started typing. “Something really cute.”

“Stef, no. Thanks but no.”

Stef stopped typing. “I’m gonna when you get snip-snip.” She winced thinking about it.

“Fine,” Emily laughed, wondering how much she would send.
---
Two days before the surgery, Emily came home and opened the door.

“Surprise!” Marissa and Shaye yelled. Hanging from the wall was a picture of Ted Allen, with the caption, ‘Emily has been chopped, she must leave the kitchen.’

She held her hands to her face, “Ohmigosh, you guys. What is this?”

Marissa came over and gave her a hug. “We can’t do this tomorrow because of the prep, so we figured we’d get you good and drunk AF tonight to celebrate.”

From the counter, she saw Marissa’s phone. “Stef?” And she started crying.

“Hey, Emmy! Sorry I can’t be there to get drunk with you, but I wanted to be here as much as I could.”

Emily smiled and hugged Shaye and Marissa. “You guys are the best!”

Shaye took her hand. “OK, Ems, so before we get too far gone, we wanted to give you our presents.”

“OK, stop, no,” she crossed her arms in front of her. “You did not.”

Shaye looked at the phone, “You were right, Stef.”

Emily smiled as she protested, “It’s not necessary.”

Stef laughed, “That’s why they’re called gifts, Ems.”

“Shut up,” she smiled, and then clapped her hands. “So what did you get me?”

Shaye handed her a small jewelry box. Emily opened it and took out a pair of earrings. Shaye smiled, “I know you’re trying to get rid of dangly things, but...oh look, Emmy is blushing,” which got a swat.

Then, Marissa handed her a bigger box. “Open it, open it.” Emily opened it and inside was a green bikini, and held it up so Stef could see. “I know how much you’ve always wanted to wear one, well now you can, I mean, if it fits right. If not, I left the receipt.”

“You guys are the best!”

From the phone, “Give her mine! Give her mine!”

Emily opened it and took out…”Oh my god, Stef,” which got a laugh from everyone. “You are disgusting.”

Stef grinned from ear to ear. “For those times when you’re between boyfriends.”

Marissa sighed, “Or when you’re not between them,” which got matching sighs from Shaye and Stef.

Stef laughed. “Do you remember when we found…” Emily stuck her fingers in her ears, closed her eyes and started singing, ‘la la la,’ then smiled, tearing up. “I love all of you.”

Shaye, “Oh god, she’s going to start crying again.”

“Shut UP!”

Marissa opened a bottle of champagne, and poured three glasses. On screen, Stef held one up. “To the best friend in the world on finally getting what she always wanted.” And they clinked glasses, then drank it down.

Stef poured another glass. “OK, my turn. To the best little sister I could have ever had, who I didn’t deserve, and of whom I am so, so, so proud and who better not be crying again…this is the beginning of the beginning.”

Several glasses and some edibles later, she passed out on her bed, wearing the bikini and a pair of denim shorts.

---
She woke up in her hospital room, still groggy from the anesthesia. She would have sworn she smelled roses and decided it must just be a mix of cleaning supplies and a brain fog.

Claire, a woman from her old support group, was sitting in a chair. “Hiya, sleepyhead.” Claire was in her 40s, about 5’11”, 175 pounds, with a strong jawline. She was wearing a blue and black bodycon dress that gave her a decent figure.

Emily yawned. “Sorry, I’m still kinda out of it.”

Claire, standing up, walked over and touched her shoulder. “Of course, you are. It’s to be expected. You are quite the popular young woman.”

Emily, woozy, “Huh?” She looked over at a table and saw two bouquets of roses, one pink, one red. “What are those?”

Claire, smiling, “They appear to be flowers.”

Emily, smiling weakly, “Ha ha. Where did they come from?”

Claire walked over and took the cards from the bouquets. “Let’s see.”

The card with the red roses read, “To the greatest girl in the world, three months,’ followed by what she assumed were eggplants and devils,’ “Love, Duncan.”

Claire looked at her and smiled as Emily hid the card behind her. “Well, that must be one interesting card.”

Then, she looked at the other card. “To our niece Emily, we could not have asked for a better niece. You are a brave, beautiful young woman and we love you. Love, Aunt Jeannie, Uncle Rob and Cousin Liam,” followed by several hearts and xxxxoooo.

Emily felt herself tearing up and Claire put her hand on her shoulder. She handed the card to her and Claire said, wistfully, “You are a very lucky girl, Emily.”

“I know.” She wiped a tear and said, “I keep crying.”

Claire smiled, “It’s to be expected, Emily,” and then went through everything she could expect, from recovery time to hormone swings. She explained dilation and what she’d need to do ‘although the nurse will explain this too.’

After an hour, she stood up and straightened her skirt. “You have my number, if you need me.”

“Thanks, Claire. You’re the best.”

Claire kissed her on the forehead. “Just make sure you do it for the next girl,” and then she picked up her purse and left.
---
Pain. What Emily felt was excruciating pain. She knew about the catheter. She knew that it would be miserable, it was surgery after all and everyone, from the websites to the group to her doctor, told her to expect pain.

She sat in bed with the hand mirror they had given her and she looked at it. It was red and raw and you could see the stitches. It wasn’t pretty - but it was hers. You couldn't tell it wasn't the real thing.

She tried to sit up and got dizzy. The nurse came in. “How are you doing today, Miss Berrigan?”

“It hurts,” and she tried to smile, then winced.

“That's to be expected. You had surgery.”

“When can I get out of bed?”

“Not today. A couple of days. The doctor will discuss it with you when he does rounds,” and she put down a cup of pills. “Take these. They’re pain medication and antibiotics.”

“Why do I need antibiotics?” Visions of her body rejecting the surgery ran through her mind.

“It’s prophylactic,” and Emily tried not to giggle, “just to be sure.” Emily nodded and took the pills.

She texted Jordan. “Hey”

“Ur awake”

“No im texting from sleep”

“How r u feelin”

“Hurts”

“That sux but u did right thing”

She smiled. “Thx I know how r u hows Kira”

“All good she sez hi and congrats”

She thought about how ridiculous that sounded. ‘Congrats on your new vagina.’ “tell her thx tell her Duncan sent roses”

“No”

“Y”

“Cuz then shell expect them”

“Ur stupid” followed by the tongue out emoji

Five Smileys. “How long again in” followed by the hospital emoji

“7 days”

“Sux can u do anything”

“Rest n recover” She also had her laptop here to do typing for work.

“Good gotta go”

Heart emojis.

Tongue out emojis.

On her last day in the hospital, one of the residents came in carrying a box. “Good morning, Emily,” Dr. Vuong said cheerily.

“Hi, Dr. Vuong. Did you bring me a present?” She joked.

The doctor, a slight Asian woman, smiled, “In a manner of speaking, you’re getting discharged today so you know what that means,” and she opened the box. Inside were four silicone dilators.

“Oh boy,” Emily smiled.

The doctor laughed. “You need to do this to keep your new vagina open.” Emily imagined she looked at takeout menus and her iPhone manual with the same enthusiasm. “OK, so please spread your legs and pay attention.”

The doctor took the smallest dilator and put it in Emily’s new vagina, and Emily winced, offering a token, ‘eep,’ then, “that hurts.”

The doctor smiled at her. “It will take time.”

“How long do I do this for? What are the other ones?” She had read about this on-line and Claire had explained it to her but her mind went blank.

“As you progress, you’ll use the bigger ones. And you’ll be doing this your whole life. You’ll start three times a day, fifteen minutes each, but, over time, you’ll do it less.”

Emily said, giggling, “What about when I have sex?”

The doctor looked at her. “Even once you start having sex, you’ll still have to do it.” Then, a sly grin, “Besides, if you think he’s going to be able to do it for fifteen minutes at a time, I suggest you calibrate your expectations.” Emily groaned. “The important thing is that you dilate, and that you find a position that works for you. If it hurts, try a different position,” then, handing her the dilator, “you try.”

Emily felt herself turn red, “What about a vibrator?”

The doctor said, “Everyone asks that. Not until you’re cleared for sex. Sorry.”

Emily shrugged and took the orange dilator and began inserting it in and out, wincing each time. “It gets better, right?”

“You get used to it.” Then, matter of factly, “I know this isn’t what you expected, I’m sure, but this is what you need to do.” And then she went into the process of douching - ‘the care and feeding of your vagina,’ Emily pictured the announcer intoning. ‘If you take care of her, she’ll take care of you.’

After she finished and was cleared, she left the hospital wearing her shortest dress and grinning from ear to ear.

Emily Berrigan is a 23 year old transwoman, who hasn't seen her twin Jordan in six years. Not since she told her parents the truth about herself and they threw her out. Her older sister is getting married and wants Emily there - as a bridesmaid. Will sparks fly?
---
Jeannie, Rob and Liam come to visit Emily, and she learns the truth about their other son. Emily faces off against her mother about the wedding and being a bridesmaid.
---
Emily came into the restaurant, and looked around. She saw Jeannie at the bar, and smiled and waved. She walked over, grinning and gave her a big hug. “Oh my gosh, it's sooo great to see you. I've missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” Jeannie gave her a big grin and looked at her. “That blouse,” a green, short-sleeved batwing with a v neck, “would look amazing with a black skirt, although the jeans work.”

“Next time.” She had actually put on a skirt this morning and then decided it might be too much to throw at Liam for the first time she had seen him in over six years. Not that the breasts and hips and makeup weren't a lot. “Where are they?”

“Rob is, surprise, surprise, on a call and Liam went to the bathroom. So,” and she took her hand, “how are you doing?”

Emily smiled, “Still a little sore, but it gets better every day…”

Jeannie gripped her hand a little tighter. “And?”

Duncan. She and Jeannie had spent an hour on the phone the day he moved up the coast. Emily shrugged, “That doesn’t get better.”

“I know, sweetie. I know how much it hurts,” and she hugged her tight. “I promise you, it’ll get better.”

“I loved him. This was for real.”

“I know. I know, honey,” and she rubbed her back. “It hurts and it stinks but I promise you, you will recover from this.”

“That's what they keep telling me,” she sighed. Just then, she looked up at a younger, taller, thinner Rob. “Liam?” She stepped back. “Oh my gosh, look at you,” which made him wince in embarrassment in front of people he didn’t know.

He shuffled uncertainly and she wondered if this had been the right idea. “Hey, Emily.”

“Wow, you’ve certainly changed since the last time I saw you,” a phrase that made her sound 50.

He laughed, “Not as much as you,” and he gave her a hug, to hissed ‘Liam’ from his mother.

Emily laughed, “It’s fine. I didn’t mean it the way...it came out.”

Liam looked down at her. “Yeah, I know. At least you didn’t say something like ‘I remember when you were in diapers.’”

“If I ever say anything like that, please shoot me. But, seriously, you got really tall.”

Jeannie laughed, “Amazing what happens between 11 and 17.”

Emily rolled her eyes, to Liam’s amusement. “I am so glad you’re here. Anyway, my friend Shaye’s sister is a sophomore at UCLA and she said that, after the school’s tour, she’ll give you the real tour.”

“Stop trying to stack the deck,” Jeannie laughed.

Just then, the host came over. “Your table is,” then, “ohmigod, Emily?”

“Nila?” Then, turning to Jeannie and Liam. “Ohmigod everyone, this is my friend Nila. We used to work together at this place in Century City when I was in college. How have you been?”

After the exchange of pleasantries and catching up and shared ‘you look amazings’, Nila took them to an outside table. “I’ll make sure you’re taken care of,” Nila winked.

“If you see a guy come in, who looks like an older, heavier him,” which made Liam laugh, “that's my uncle Rob. Send him here.”

Another wink and she walked away. Two minutes later, Rob came over. “How did we get an outside table?” Rob kissed Emily’s cheek. She looked at Liam and saw...nothing.

Emily smiled, “Perk of being in the restaurant business. So, I'm soooo happy you're here. And I was telling Liam and Aunt Jeannie, my friend Shaye’s sister goes to UCLA and said she'd give us the real tour after the official one. I mean, you…”

Liam looked at her. “You're not coming?”

Emily looked at him. “I just meant, in case you wanted it to be the three of you. I didn't want to just invite myself.”

Liam looked at her, confused. “I assumed you were coming.”

She smiled. “I am. She'll give us the real tour.”

Rob looked at her. “We didn't come all this way not to see you, Emmy.”

Emily smiled, “I said I would. I'm excited. I haven't been there in a couple of years. You'll love it. It's really nice. I mean, not as nice as SC…”

Liam and Jeannie laughed, as Rob looked at her. “You're uninvited. In fact, go home.”

Jeannie touched her shoulder. “You're not going anywhere. For once, I won't be outnumbered,” which made Emmy feel warm and loved.

The waitress came over and told them Nila offered them a tasting menu, which they gladly accepted. They went through the plans for meeting at UCLA tomorrow, and then Em said, “So, Sunday, if you guys aren't sick of me, I was hoping you'd come over to my place for brunch. I mean, I asked some of my friends, if you don't mind.”

Jeannie and Rob both smiled, and Jeannie just said, “We'd really like that,” as she touched Em’s hand under the table. “We'd really, really like that.”

The waitress came over with ‘an amuse bouche, Copper River salmon on toast.’ Emmy smiled sadly, remembering that first night with Duncan, then resolved to be happy this entire weekend. “So, UCLA, Pepperdine and Chapman…”

“Yeah,” and he took a piece of the bread that no one else in the restaurant would eat in public.

“What are you thinking?”

“I dunno. I’ll know when I see them, I guess. I mean, Pepperdine is in Malibu which is lit.”

She smiled, explaining how Malibu was beautiful but far away from everything. And how Chapman was in Orange County, which was the suburbs, finishing with, “you'll see what you like. You end up spending most of your time with your friends anyway.” He nodded and went back to chewing.

“So what's going on with the movie?” Jeannie asked.

Emily had been offered the role of the younger sister and had, much to her roommate's amusement, been practicing cheer routines with Stef via FaceTime. She talked about it being in pre-production and how they were trying to line up financing, then said, “In the meantime, they're sending me out for a call for a commercial for Carl’s Jr.”

“What's that?” Liam asked, as he took more bread.

“It’s a fast food franchise, hamburgers and stuff,” she said.

“Is it as good as In n Out?”

In n Out was a West coast hamburger chain. Everyone here had a story of a relative from back east who wanted it as soon as they got off the plane. Emily smiled, remembering a trip with Rob. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“Whether they book me for the commercial,” which made everyone laugh.

“I still want it,” Liam smiled.

Rob looked at him. “Can we eat dinner first, Bottomless Pete?”

“I didn't mean now.”

Em smiled, “Your dad is conveniently ignoring that we went last time he was in.”

“I'm not calling you anymore,” he mock-grumped, to eyerolls from her aunt and cousin.

Liam laughed. “Yeah, right. It's like all we hear about for two days after he gets back,” which made Rob flush and Emmy feel her face getting warm. “Emmy, Emmy, Emmy,” and he grinned.

Rob put his arm around her and smiled, “I like her. She doesn't cost me money.”

She looked up at him and smiled, “Oh gee, thanks. That's it?”

He kissed her cheek. “Among other things.”
--
They finished dinner, a series of small plates, Liam especially fascinated with a Korean marinated skirt steak, and Jeannie yawned, pleading jet lag. She leaned over and gave Emily a kiss and hug. “We will meet you tomorrow at 11:00. OK?”

Liam piped in, “I’m not tired.”

Rob smiled, “We are.”

Emily piped in. “We could hang out and I’ll drive him back. I mean, if you’re interested.”

He shrugged. “K.”

K? K? Still, Emily smiled, “Come on Liam, we’ll leave the old people here.” Rob gave her a hug and kiss, and handed Liam a room key.

They walked out to her car and she looked at him, “Last chance.”

He stared at her, confused. “Do you not want to hang?”

She smiled, “I totally do.”

He smiled, “Good, then get in the car.”

She watched him fold himself into her car. “Your dad won’t ever let me drive.”

He put on his seatbelt. “You’re lucky. He’s a terrible passenger. Always complains about my driving and,” he imitated hitting a brake. “It’s annoying AF.”

She laughed. “So, I’m so glad you guys came out here. Are you excited?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, I’ve only been here once and that was when I was 9.”

They talked briefly about nothing, graduation and the prom for him, the commercial for her when, looking in her side view mirror, “Let me get this out of the way. Am I freaking you out?”

He looked at her and with confusion and annoyance, “No.”

“You sure?” She cursed the driver in front of her and Liam laughed. “If you are, you are.”

He kept looking. “I’m not them, Emily. I mean, there’s a bunch of LGBT kids at school.”

“Wow,” she said, remembering gym and the parking lot and class.

He laughed, “Things have changed kinda since you were there.”

She smiled, “Well, that’s good.”

“I mean, you’d have to ask them, I guess, but I don’t care. Like, this is who you are, cool.”

She smiled, “Thanks.”

He laughed. “You’re welcome? You really like it here?”

She smiled, describing the perfect weather and the beach and the mountains.

He looked out the window. “And it’s not Dekalb.”

She sighed. “That too,” then, changing the subject, “where else are you looking?” And he went through his list, how Notre Dame, the University of Illinois and Illinois State were givens, although not his first choice. “I wanted Michigan but dad said no,” he laughed, “which is fucked up AF.”

She smiled, as she waited at a light to make a right. “Stef feels the same way in reverse. I don’t get it, to be honest. CalArts doesn’t have a rivalry with, like, USC film school or something.” He laughed and she continued, “I bet if you wanted to go to Michigan and you got in, he’d give in.”

He looked at her. “He’d give in to you, not me.”

She turned. “Excuse me?”

He looked out the window. “He always talks about you when he comes back. He likes you a lot.”

“I like him, too,” she laughed. “And your mom.”

He laughed. “OK.”

She imitated him. “OK?”

“Yeah, you like them, they like you. Cool.” She heard something unsaid in his voice, but decided to stay quiet, as she felt him out. They drove along and she put on Spotify. Ariana Grande came on. He made a face, picked up the phone and furiously typed. Suddenly, rap filled the car.

“Ugh, Pop Smoke? Seriously?”

He laughed, “You know Pop Smoke?”

She rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Um, yeah. And it doesn’t change that you think this is better than Ariana Grande.”

“It’s objectively better.”

“Don’t be one of those guys, Liam.”

“What guys?”

She smiled, “If she likes something, don’t criticize it. That gets really old really quickly, know what I’m saying?”

“My girlfriend doesn’t care,” he said.

“Uh yeah, she totally does. She’s just not saying it...yet. So, is there something you want to do? See?”

“Can we go see USC?”

She laughed, “Your dad would kill me!”

He grinned, “Come on.”

“It's all spoiled rich kids.”

He kept grinning, “I just wanna see it.”

She looked around. “You better not say anything.”

“I won't.”

“And if traffic is bad,” and she took out her phone, “we can't go because they're waiting for you to get back.”

He laughed, “they aren't, but sure.”

“If they find out, I'm dead,” she smiled.

“No, you aren't, I am,” he smiled.

She looked at him and resolved to figure it out. The traffic gods were in their favor and she somehow made it to USC in under half an hour. She pulled into a spot and smiled, “Welcome to enemy territory.”

She had been here a few times before, for parties in college, and looked around at the palm trees, the old campus buildings and the new ones made to look old. A gaggle of blondes walked past, all tall and busty and dressed for a party, and she suddenly felt aware of herself. Whatever, she thought. She watched as Liam’s head swivelled around. “Try and be a little more subtle,” she laughed. “You’re worse than Uncle Rob.”

He laughed. “No need to get nasty, Emily. Besides, they’re hot AF.”

She smiled, “Welcome to LA. The girls at UCLA are just as hot,” and she could see the wheels turning. “Seriously, Shaye’s sister is a snack.”

He looked at her. “Is ‘snack' still a thing out here?”

She looked at him and put her hands on her hips. “Yes.”

He smiled. “It still is at home. Just messing with you,” and she relaxed. “This is fucking nice,” he said, as they walked around. “I could see myself here.”

“I’m sure you could,” she laughed. “Everyone is totally gorgeous,” and she watched some frat boys walk past, looking like Abercrombie models, if those were still a thing.

“Be a little more subtle, Em,” he laughed. “I can call you ‘Em,’ right? Because Emmy sounds weird to me, like a little kid.”

She smiled, “Em is fine, Liam. Call me whatever you want. Anyway, it’s so cool to finally see you. They talk about you all the time.” He groaned and she continued, “It’s really all good, mostly. Except the Jeep.”

“Whatever, it wasn’t my fault.”

“I don’t care,” she said, “it wasn’t my car. So, I know you wanna stay and drool but we have to get up in the morning.”

They got back into the car, heading towards Westwood. “Can we go to In N Out?” She looked at him in disbelief. “What?”

“I can still taste dinner.”

“Come on…please.”

She smiled. “Since you said ‘please.’” Then, ‘Siri, find an In N Out near Westwood.’

They drove, talking about school and admission essays, each pausing at the mention of anything connected to Dekalb, Liam shutting that down with, ‘if NIU was my only choice, I’d join the Army or something.’

They walked into the restaurant and he ordered a ‘double double animal style, Large Coke, fries.’ She looked at him, all 6’3” and 170 pounds of him, and envied his metabolism. The estradiol and progesterone did a number on her, making it much harder, and she tried to remember whether she had ever been able to eat like this. She smiled and ordered an unsweetened iced tea.

He looked at her. “That’s it?”

She smiled, “I told you, I can still taste dinner. Plus, you know how they say the camera adds ten pounds?” He shrugged. “It adds twenty.” She watched him happily scarf down his burger. “Do they ever feed you,” she laughed.

He smiled, mayo at the corners of his mouth. “Ha ha, Emily. Don’t be old.”

She took a fry. “No need to get nasty, Liam. You eat like...never mind.”

“Is this about that guy?” She stared at him. “I heard mom tell dad.”

She put her face in her hands, in part to hide her smile. “How much do they talk about me?”

He grinned. “A lot.”

“Oh god,” she moaned, still smiling. “Really?”

“Yup,” and he shoved three fries in his mouth.

“Do I want to know what they say?”

Through a mouthful of fries, “Probably not,” he grinned, “it’s all good. It’s messed up AF that they just saw you that day.”

She smiled, and took a sip of her iced tea. “It totally is. I mean, obviously I’m happy about it, but it’s hella random. Like the universe meant it or something.”

He rolled his eyes. “The universe?”

She took one more fry and smiled. “Shut up.”

“If I come here, will I get all ‘the universe’ and shit?” She stuck out her tongue at him. “Sucks about that guy.”

She sighed. “Yeah.”

“Sorry.” And he looked around the restaurant.

“It is what it is,” she shrugged, then, “so what did you think of the burger?”

He smiled. “It’s good. I get why people like them. I could see eating this.”

“If you came here, you could have them all the time,” she grinned. You wouldn’t, any more than you eat anything else, but you could. “Plus, you see how hot all the girls here are.”

He smiled. “You don’t have to convince me, Em.”

They drove back to the hotel and she walked with him to the door. “I had a good time,” she said.

“Me too,” and he gave her a hug. She smiled as she walked back to the car.

----
The next morning, Em was getting dressed and called Marissa in. “So, what do you think,” she said, “this,” an apricot print dress with an Empire waist that fell a couple of inches above her knee, “or shorts and a t-shirt?” Cut off denim shorts.

Marissa looked at her. “Are you trying to pick up college guys? Because either works.”

“Ha ha. I just, which do you think? Shorts? I mean, I don’t wanna freak out Liam.”

Marissa looked at her. “You said he called you Em and gave you a hug and called you ‘she.’”

“Yeah, but I was wearing pants yesterday, and this,” and she pointed to the dress, “is not pants.”

Marissa rolled her eyes, “A blinding statement of the obvious. He thinks you’re a girl, because you are a girl. You could be wearing a football jersey and jeans and you know what you would look like? A girl wearing a football jersey and jeans,” then, “let me see.” Emily stripped off her t-shirt and shorts, no longer feeling the need to turn around. She put on the cut-offs and the t-shirt, cut tight around her chest. Marissa laughed, “Um, Ems. You could not look more girly than this, if you tried.” They stood in front of the mirror and Em laughed at how right she was, and how much she loved this outfit. “And every guy there will be following you.” Then, “You look like total jailbait, by the way. Put your hair up.” Em put her hair in a ponytail. “Oh yeah, you look like his younger sister.”

“Really?” And she put this aside for the movie, to suggest to whoever was doing costumes, if anyone.

“Totally. Try on the dress.” Em put on the dress. “Oh yeah, this. Def.”

Em looked at herself, then let her hair down. “Def.” Then, looking in her closet, “Slides or espadrilles?”

Marissa smiled, “It’s so cute how much you want to impress them.”

Em saw herself turn red. “I just want to look good.”

Marissa smiled, “Uh huh. Yeah. Sure,” then, “espadrilles, you’ll be walking too much.”

---
At 11:00 AM, Emily stood in front of the alumni center, waiting. She was wearing her round sunglasses. She saw a guy walking up, light-skinned African American, 6’2”, his pecs pulling at his t-shirt, smiling. She lowered her sunglasses just in time to see him fall into the arms of his boyfriend.

She was looking around, when Jeannie came up. “I love it. You look adorable.”

“Hey, Jeannie,” she said, giving her a kiss. “Good morning.”

“Good morning. Seriously, you look terrific.”

“Thanks,” she smiled. “He is a really good kid.”

“Thanks, sweetie. We tried.”

“You succeeded. We had a great time at In n Out, I think.”

Jeannie checked her makeup. “You did. He told me. If he comes out here, I’ll be really happy to know that he has someone looking out for him.”

Emily felt herself smile. “You know I would,” then, “he wasn’t freaked out by me, was he?”

Jeannie looked at her. “Would you stop it already? No, he wasn’t.”

“Would he say something if he was?”

“No, he’s a boy, he doesn’t talk about anything, much less feelings. But, all he said was ‘Em’s cool,’ and ‘she’s fun,’ and that. He’s not like the rest of them. He likes you. Like we like you, well, we love you,” and Em smiled, “But he will love you. You, Emily.” Then, “Thank you for having us for brunch on Sunday. It means a lot to us.”

Emily smiled, “It means a lot to me too. You’re my family,” a phrase she had never said out loud, but meant. “I want all the important people in my life to know each other,” which led Jeannie to hug her and tell her they loved her.

Emily felt herself getting emotional. “No fair. You know I cry,” she smiled. She turned to see them walking up, the same rolling gait, each slightly dragging his left foot. She was amazed at how alike they were.

Rob came over and gave her a kiss. “Good morning Emmy,” then, grinning, “did Liam behave himself?”

Em, grinning, “No, he was awful.”

“Good. Did she?”

Liam, smiling, “She was OK.”

“OK? OK? Just for that, he really was terrible. In fact, make sure he doesn’t go to school anywhere near here.”
-------------

They walked around campus, the guide walking backwards, telling everyone about the buildings and the classes, the sports and the Greek system. She saw three girls in sorority shirts walk past. She would never have fit in here, CalArts was the right place, but still she wondered what life could have been.

She watched Jeannie’s head turn as a guy walked past. “He’s maybe twenty, Jeannie,” she whispered.

Jeannie whispered back, “They didn’t have 20 year olds like that when I was 20.”

Emily watched as Liam and Rosie, a girl they had met while waiting for the tour, walked as close together as the situation would allow, each trying to avoid being seen with their parents. She debated going over and playing the younger sister but decided to leave them be. She pictured Jordan making a move, Rosie being exactly their type, and smiled. The tour finished and everyone dispersed. They were standing in front of the alumni center when she heard, “Ems!” She turned to see the 5’10” half-Asian girl, with shoulder-length dark hair in a UCLA t-shirt and shorts walking towards them.

“Anaia,” she said, giving her a kiss. “Everyone, this is Anaia, Shaye’s sister.” She introduced everyone, and watched Liam unsubtly take in Anaia, who reciprocated.

Jeannie smiled, “Thank you for doing this.”

Anaia hugged Emily, “I would do anything for Ems. She’s the best.”

Rob laughed, “Yes, she is,” then, “are you an actress too?”

Anaia laughed, “Oh god no. That’s for Ems and Shaye. I’m an architectural studies major. Well, going to be. It starts next year.”

Rob grinned, and puffed out his chest to Jeannie’s amusement. “Really? I’m in construction and engineering.”

Anaia smiled. “Well, maybe I should be giving you the tour,” and she winked at Liam, who grinned like an idiot. “What are you thinking about?”

Liam smiled, “I dunno. I was thinking maybe finance.”

Anaia started walking. “I have a bunch of friends in the business school, if you want to talk to them.”

Still grinning, “cool.” And Anaia began the tour, talking about classes and dorms (‘you definitely don’t want Dykstra, although as a first year, you’re screwed no matter what’) and parties (‘although no one here ever drinks underage,’ to Rob and Jeannie’s laughs.) Halfway through the tour, she said, “Oh by the way, my friends are having a party tonight, if you’re interested.”

Jeannie looked at Emily, “Did you plan this, Emmy?”

“No, I totally didn’t.”

Liam, trying not to sound like a kid. “Can I? I mean, that sounds cool,” which got a smile from Anaia.

Rob looked at her. “If Emmy goes, you can.”

Liam beseeched her with his eyes, and she said, “You know, I have a busy schedule,” then, “OK, fine, I’ll go. What’s the dress code here?” Remembering USC, everyone looking like they were going clubbing.

“Totally cazh,” Anaia said, “Jeans, skirt, whatever.”

Emily remembered her last college party, making out with some guy at Cal State, whose name she couldn’t remember.

---
They finished the tour, and Rob and Liam left to walk around the campus and Westwood, while Jeannie and Emily headed to the Grove, a collection of shops. “They don’t mind that we came here, do they?”

Jeannie smiled. “They will be fine. Besides, I needed some girl time with you,” which made Emily grin. She remembered how her mom, aunt Jackie, Stef and her cousins used to go into Chicago, coming back laden with bags and inside jokes. “So, how’re Stef and Jordan?”

Em smiled, “They're doing great. I think Jordan and Kira are getting serious. I mean, she's always there when I call.” Jordan had told her that they didn't care who knew, which meant it was real.

Jeannie looked in the window of Aritzia, “That's terrific. Do you like her?”

“She's really nice and they really seem to love her. They don't even say anything when I tease them.”

Laughing, “That's serious,” then, “has she met anyone yet?”

Em and Jeannie had come to an unspoken understanding. Don't discuss anyone there in anything but vague terms, and then only to complain about them. “I don't think it's that serious yet,” she laughed. “Maybe if someone went to Indianapolis or something.” In other words, no time soon.

“And Steffie?” They walked into the store.

“She's good. I think they're about ready to choose a place. She wants the botanic garden, which looks really pretty.”

“We went to an alumni fundraiser there. I told Rob that's where my next wedding would be.”

She laughed. “What did he say?” She looked at a pale green dress, a tiered babydoll dress with a V neckline, that tied at the neck with cute details at the collar and hem.

“He asked if he was invited. That's cute.”

She held it to herself. “You think?”

“Definitely. You want to try it on?”

She paused. It was cute, but she could find it for less and wasn't sure where she would wear it. But, on the other hand, she was just trying it on. She went to find a dressing room, tried it on and looked in the mirror. She came out, “No, right?”

Jeannie shook her head. “Yeah, no. I can't put my finger on it, but just…”

“I know.” She went back to change. They kept looking around, eventually leaving the store and just walking around the Grove.

---
“I don't think I've ever met her,” Em said, as they discussed Jeannie’s sister-in-law, who had apparently told her mother off about something she had said regarding her daughter.

“You didn't miss much,” she sighed.

“I mean, no offense,” and she looked in the window of Vince, at a cute t-shirt dress, pale pink, “but your mom did tell her that she should not let her daughter dress the way she did. That's kinda, y’know…”

“Oh, absolutely and I told her that, and it was like my childhood all over again but Melanie is making him,” her brother, “absolutely miserable over this and it's killing him.”

Em smiled, “Did you ever like her?”

“She's not bad…”

A slight wind blew and she held her hem down. Her hair blew in her face and Jeannie took a hair tie out of her bag and reached over to put Em’s hair back. Em smiled. “But?”

“He's my baby brother,” she said. “I just think she's mean to him.”

She smiled, thinking of Stef and Jordan. “Well, how bad was what your niece wanted to wear?”

She laughed. “Awful. It was this tight top and she inherited her mother's chest and her mother's inability to buy a bra that fits.”

Em laughed. “Ouch! That bad?”

“Have you ever seen one of those old ladies with her boobs at her stomach? She started as my niece.”

“You are so mean!” She giggled at the mental picture, remembering a former coworker, who everyone used to call her Deedee behind her back, because she was so huge. They began talking about work, about one of the other admins who made comments every time she left for an audition. “I mean, it's like I take work home with me and it gets done and no one else seems to care.”

“She's jealous of you but just make sure your office manager knows that you're doing it. You have to be a self-promoter. If you aren't, no one else will be. Rob taught me that.”

She smiled. “I know. He's always telling me to be my own biggest cheerleader. He's been great.”

She laughed, “I will never tell him that and ask you to do the same.”

--

They were walking past Nordstrom and Jeannie said that she needed makeup. Jeannie picked up a lipstick and asked her opinion. Em smiled and Jeannie looked at her, “You look happy.”

She thought about her mom and Stef, Aunt Jackie and her cousins. “I'm just having a really, really good time.”

Jeannie smiled, “Me too.”

They went out to get coffee, sitting at an outdoor cafe. “I'm having a really great time,” Emily said.

Jeannie looked at her. “Me too. It's not like Liam is interested in spending time with me.”

She smiled and thought of Stef and their mother. “I'm serious. This has been really, really fun and I hope you'll do it with me again.”

Jeannie put her hand on Emily’s. “I will do this with you as much and as long as you're willing to do it with me. You know you don’t need to ask, right?”

Emily, looking into her eyes. “I know. I just don't want to push my luck…”

Jeannie hugged her, “You have no luck to push. We are a family. You, me, Rob,” then pausing, “and Liam. You're stuck with us now.”

Emily smiled softly. “I want to be stuck. I'm glad we're stuck.”

“That's enough of that,” Jeannie said. “You'll keep an eye on Liam tonight, right? He's a good, smart kid but his judgment is sometimes, and when a girl is involved…”

Emily looked at her, “He keeps talking about a girlfriend. What's up with that?”

Jeannie took a sip of her iced coffee. “Nothing. She's a junior and really clingy.”

“Oh God,” she said, remembering her first year self, hormones out of whack. “One of those.”

“Oh yeah,” she laughed, “and she has this awful voice,” and she imitated a high, nasal voice that made people turn. “She thinks it's a relationship…”

Emily laughed. “Got it. Anyway, I'll make sure he doesn't get too stupid.”

“That's all we ask, Emmy. Be his big sister,” which made Em grin from ear to ear.

Then, she got serious. “Speaking of which.”

“I'm not there yet.”

“Emmy, we've talked about this.”

“I know, but I’m not ready.” She intently studied her hem.

“You know that, no matter what, Stef and I will be there for you.”

“I know, but I don't think you know what she said.”

“I'm not excusing anything she said. It's inexcusable. You're her daughter and a wonderful person and you don't just turn your back on your child, no matter what,” and a look came over her face.

Emmy said, in a small voice, “we can stop if you want,” then gave her a hug. “You know that you and Rob mean everything to me.”

She smiled and gave her a kiss. “And you mean everything to us.”

----
“I can drive,” Emily said, as they left the restaurant.

Uncle Rob looked at her. “Take an Uber.”

“I don’t plan on drinking.”

He looked at her, his face serious. “People don’t plan on doing anything stupid, Emmy, but they do. Take an Uber. I’ll pay.”

“I’m just…”

He put his hands on her shoulders, and she felt the weight of his hands. “This isn’t a discussion. Uber or you’re not going.”

“Fine,” she said, smiling. “We’ll take an Uber. I hear you’re an excellent tipper.”

He grinned, “Wiseass,” then, “I’m not OK with this outfit.” Emily was wearing her slip dress, the mini that she bought just before the surgery.

She looked at Jeannie, who said, “Rob, it's fine. It's what they're wearing these days. Besides, Emmy is 23, not 17.”

He grumbled, told them not to be too late, and stuck his hand out. Emily handed him her keys, the plan being for Liam to crash at her place and him to drive her car back for brunch the next day.

Liam looked at him and rolled his eyes, his backpack slung over his shoulder. When they were out of earshot, Liam apologized, “That's just how he is.”

Remembering her own teen years, well Stef’s, she smiled, “He means well.”

“Whatever.”

She smiled. “Whatever,” she imitated. “This is gonna be lit.”

“Thanks for doing this.”

“You don't have to thank me. It's fun.”

“It's not gonna be boring for you, a college party?”

She theatrically put her foot down. “I'm only 23!” He grinned. “Jerk,” she grinned.

—
The party was a success, Liam having fooled around with a girl, a blonde with a cute little nose and pale blue eyes. And misshapen boobs in a top that left them hanging out. Anaia had smiled and tilted her head towards Liam, “He’s a great guy. And she is a total ditz, so they should work out.”

At 1:30, she tapped Liam on the shoulder. “Sorry, Liam, but we have to get back. We need to be up in the morning.”

He looked at her, and she could see his eyes lightly floating in a mix of beer and tequila. He looked at the girl, “Sorry, Kira, but y’know…” Em smiled at the name, thinking of Jordan, how they would be egging Liam on.

Kira smiled, “Well, if you end up coming here, look me up,” and she gave him her Insta and Snap information. Then, she kissed him again.

They walked out. “Go Liam,” she laughed, offering her hand for a high five.

He high-fived her back. “You and that guy didn’t look too bad either,” he slurred.

She smiled, “How drunk are you?”

He smiled. “I’m buzzed, not fucked up.” He walked a little. “OK, I’m kinda close to fucked up.”

She looked at him. “You gonna puke? Because we can wait to call the Uber.”

“Nah, I’m not that fucked up. Thanks for doing this, Em.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” and she felt a late night breeze blow her dress. “I had a lot of fun,” and, to his grin, “not just that, you jerk.”

“You’re not going to tell mom and dad about this, are you?”

“I’m pretty sure they know people drink at college parties.”

“Come on,” he groaned.

“No, of course not. It’s you and me, right?”

He smiled, “You’d be a really cool older sister, you know that?”

She laughed, “You’re way closer to fucked up than you think.”

He looked at her. “No, I mean it. You would be.”

“Thanks. I always wanted a younger brother or sister.”

The Uber came and he got in the car, and Liam rested his head on the window. “He’s not going to throw up, is he?” The driver looked concerned.

“He should be OK. I’ll keep an eye on him.” With that, she could see Liam’s eyes close.

They got back to Emily’s place and walked up the stairs. “You’re the best, Ems,” he slurred.

“Uh huh.”

“Now, I know why they love you so much,” which threw her for a loop.

“I love them too,” she said.

“Nah, I mean it. They love you like they love me.”

She was lost for a second, then chalked it up to alcohol. “Not quite,” she said. “But, thanks.”

“Nah, I mean it,” he said. “They do.”

“You’re their son. I’m just their niece.”

“Stef's just their niece,” he smiled. “I told you. He talks about you all the time.”

She smiled, then, “Does that bother you or something?”

“Not at all. It's been shitty the past couple of years.”

“Why?”

“You know why. Robbie.”

“What's up with Robbie?”

“You don't know? Really?” He looked sobered up for a second.

“No.”

“Mom didn't tell you? Dad?”

“No. What? What's up with Robbie?”

He looked around. “You can't tell anyone. Not Stef. Not Jordan. No one.”

She steeled herself. “Of course.”

“He's schizophrenic. And it's bad.”

“What does that mean? I mean, like what does he do?”

“It's like he has these delusions, they call them. Like he's all paranoid, that we're trying to kill him. And he sees shit. And he attacked mom…”

She felt like she had been punched in the stomach, all the air coming out of her. “Fuck. Was she...ok?”

“I mean, I tackled him before he could do any real physical damage…”

She hugged him without thinking. “Ohmigod.”

He hugged her back, and he started talking, in a choked voice, about how everyone told them that was unusual for schizophrenics and it was only one time but he knew what he saw. Then, how Robbie would disappear sometimes.

She felt herself starting to cry. “I didn't know.”

“I know. And I hate it. I hate that he doesn't always take his medicine. And I hate the way he disappears. And I hate when he comes back,” and she felt his body tense.

“It's ok, Liam, I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere.”

“And I hate him.”

“You don't hate him. You hate the disease.”

He pulled back, his eyes red. “I hate what he does to them. And I hate that I hate him. He wasn't always like this and I went to a support group and they tell you it's ok to be angry but then they tell you shit like it's not their fault, which means it's my fault.” Then, he moved back to her, offering himself for a hug.

“It's not your fault.” She hugged him tight. “You don't have to apologize to me for anything, I get it. Believe me.”

“And I hate that he's like this ghost that haunts us, that he took away our family…”

“He didn't... I mean, they love you as much as they did before...I mean...you know what, I'm gonna shut up,” which made him smile.

He looked at her. “Can I tell you something?” She nodded. “Sometimes, I wish he would just die.” Before she could speak, “because then we'd be done. We could have a funeral and grieve and be done. Now it's like he keeps dying and coming back and dying and coming back, y’know?”

She touched his leg. “You poor thing. How long have you been feeling like this?”

“Since I realized he wasn't getting better.”

“I feel horrible. You know that whenever you want to yell or complain or just talk, I'm here, right?” He smiled and hugged her. “You're a good hugger. Girls like that.”

He pulled back. “This is gonna sound weak, but I'm glad mom and dad saw you that day. You've made them really happy.”

“They make me happy.”

“No, I mean it. Since they've been seeing you, talking to you, they've been really happy. It's like they have a daughter.”

She was floored. “Huh?”

He smiled, “That's what I meant before. I think you're like a daughter to them. They're really proud of you.”

“For what?”

He laughed. “Umm, the way you've made this whole life for yourself out here? Dad's like mad impressed. I heard him tell Uncle Doug.” He looked at her. “Fuck, I'm sorry.”

“What? How?”

“Shit. Never mind.”

“No,” she said, taking breaths to calm herself. “No take backs,” a phrase she hadn't used in forever.

“He meant it mad positively…”

“Liam, just tell me. I'm not gonna get pissed,” at you. Probably.

“So we were at this thing at Uncle Kevin’s,” the name sneered, which made her smile a little. “And Mom and Dad were talking to Uncle Doug and Aunt Laura, and they were talking about the wedding and Mom told her she was being ridiculous, and that she would be proud to have a daughter like you…”

“She said that? For real?”

“Umm, she loves you more than me,” he laughed.

“No she doesn't.”

“She likes you better. Like she waits for your calls and she wouldn't shut up about today. Like she had a perfect day with you. Anyway, so she was telling Aunt Laura how good and kind and sweet you were, and how she needed to wake up and realize that. And Dad told yours that you made this whole life for yourself, with a job and friends and shit, and that they should realize how good they had it with you and Jordan and Stef, ‘cuz it could be much worse…”

“Jeez. What did they say?”

“They saw me listening. So I left mad quick,” he laughed. “Sorry.”

She laughed. “No worries. What did the rest of them have to say?”

“They were too busy getting pissed at each other,” he laughed. “But anyway, Mom and Dad love you for real.”

“I love them too. I wish they were mine. Hella fucked up, right?”

“Nah, they're ok. Anyway, could I ask you something? You don't have to answer, if you don't want.”

She took a breath. “Yeah. What?”

“How did you know about y’know?”

She smiled. “I just did. It's like, how did you know you were a boy? You just did, right?” He nodded. “It's like, from when I was little, I knew I was a girl, that I liked girl stuff. Like I looked at Stef and... everyone else and I knew I was supposed to be them. And when I was with...guys, it was like, and this is weird, I was in a foreign country and I couldn't speak the language and I knew that I could live there the rest of my life and I never would. And I knew that if I kept trying, I would die eventually. Sorry, that's TMI, right?”

He looked at her. “No. I mean it sucks that some people don't get that. Like, who fucking cares if you,” and he clenched his legs.

“It's not contagious, Liam,” she laughed.

“Fuck you,” he grinned, then, “how bad were they about it?”

She looked down. “Bad. Really bad.”

“That's bullshit. I don't get it.” She shrugged. “I'm serious. You're, I mean you'd be, a really good sister…”

She smiled, “Thanks, Liam. I’d like a brother like you. You know, if you come here, I'm here for you. And if you don't, I'm still here for you.”

He smiled, “I know. You gonna ever talk to them again?”

“Stef wants me to. And your mom.”

“You gonna?”

“I don't know. I mean, I know I can't just show up at the wedding, but I don't know what she’ll say. Or me. I mean, I told your mom the shit she said to me.”

He looked at her. “Whatever she says, I'm here for you.”

“Thanks, Liam. That means a lot to me,” and he just smiled, then passed out. She went into the closet and put a blanket over him.

---
11:30 the next morning, Emily and Marissa came back from Vonn’s, carrying bags. She found Liam sitting up on the couch, a bottle of water in front of him. “Yo, you went to the store? Why didn’t you wake me? I would’ve come and helped.”

Emily laughed, “You needed to sleep it off.”

“I wasn’t that fucked up.”

Marissa laughed. “For someone who wasn’t that fucked up, you were snoring pretty hard,” which made him turn red.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

Emily smiled. “It’s cool. Put on some shoes and help us with the bags.”

They walked downstairs, Liam blinking in the sun. “Damn, that sun is bright,” which got laughs.

“You gonna be OK?”

He laughed, “Yeah. I’ll get some more water in me. I’ll be fine by the time they get here.” Marissa smiled and held back.

“So, you had a good time last night, right?”

He smiled, “I said I did.”

They walked up to the apartment, Liam taking bags from her. “You remember the conversation after we got back?”

He looked at her, hurt in his eyes. “Yeah, I remember.”

“If you don’t wanna talk about it again…”

He looked at her. “Nah, it’s not that. I have nothing else to say about him.”

“K. If you want to.”

He smiled, “If I do, I know I can. But I don’t.”

“OK.” She started to ask if he remembered the rest and stopped.

Marissa came over and sniffed. “You smell like stale beer. Go shower.”

He looked at her and smiled. “Do I know you?”

She stuck out her hand and smiled, “Hi, I’m Marissa, Em’s roommate. You must be Liam. You smell like shit. Go shower before your mom gets here and yells at you and Em.” He laughed, picked up his bag and went to the bathroom. “How much did he drink?”

---
Brunch was a success.

Anaia was the last to leave. “Thanks, Mr. Nehlen. I’ll get you my resume.” Rob had offered to put out feelers for summer internships for her.

“It’s Rob, Mr. Nehlen is,” a sigh, “my father,” which got snickers from Liam and Emily, “and I make no promises, but I’ll do what I can.”

“Well, I appreciate it. Thanks again, Ems,” she said, giving her a kiss.

Marissa smiled. “Let’s start cleaning up.”

Jeannie looked at her. “We’ve got this, Marissa.”

Marissa looked at Em, who shrugged. “Are you sure?”

Jeannie smiled. “I’m sure,” her tone, kind but firm. “Go enjoy the rest of the day. When you get back, you won’t even know we were here.” She gave her a kiss, then looked at Liam and Rob, “Go take a walk, you two.”

Rob looked at Liam, “We’re being dismissed.”

They walked out the door and Emily gave a little smile. “Am I in trouble?”

Jeannie laughed, “No, but we need to talk. First, your friends were wonderful,” and she described how much she liked each of them.

“I know. I’m really lucky to have them,” Em said, surveying the room and deciding where to start.

“They’re lucky to have you,” then, “I’ve been thinking all night.”

“Uh oh.”

Jeannie looked at her, “Don’t say it,” the Nehlen family ‘joke’ about thinking. “You need to call her.”

“I know, but I’m afraid of what will happen.”

Jeannie stared at her. “Nothing will happen.”

“You don’t know that,” Em said, as she rinsed a plate in the sink.

“I do,” Jeannie said, scraping old fruit from a plate into the garbage.

“That goes into compost,” Em said, pointing to a bin, “But how can you say that? How do you know that?”

“Because,” she said, dumping a half full mimosa into the sink, “what can she do to you?”

Em stopped. “I’ve spent six years finally not feeling like shit.”

“She can’t make you feel like shit anymore, Emmy,” which got an eyebrow raise. “I mean it.”

“Wanna bet?” And she scraped some egg leavings into the compost bin, and threw some napkins into the trash. “She’s a major bitch.”

Jeannie gave a half-smile. “I’ve known her longer than you. But, she can’t. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because,” she said, reaching over and turning off the sink, “you have me and Rob now. And we’re not going anywhere. We love you unconditionally.”

And Emily felt the tears welling up. “I love you too. I wish you were my mom,” and she put her hand over mouth.

And Jeannie enveloped her in a hug. “Emmy, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I only wish I had a daughter as good as you. And I will be your surrogate mom, if that’s OK,” and Emmy nodded, wiping tears and snot onto her, mumbling ‘sorry.’ “But, she is your mother, for better or worse, and you need to do this. You’re a grown woman. A beautiful, strong woman and beautiful, strong women don’t hide from their moms,” pausing and smiling, “usually.”

Emily pulled back, “What happens when she says everything she said about me again? Or worse?” She imagined the venom spilling over her.

“Then, you will call me and I will tell you that everything she said was awful and wrong and then I will call her and tell her the same thing. I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again.”

“Yeah, Liam told me you told her off.”

Sorting out forks to put them in the dishwasher. “He heard us, huh?”

“Yup.”

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you that I told her that I had seen you.”

Em looked at her. “It’s fine. I wouldn’t expect you not to. That’s not fair,” then, “what did she say?”

“It doesn’t matter, Emmy.”

“It kinda does.”

“As bad as you think she was, she was.”

She debated asking what that meant, and decided not to. “Well, thanks for saying what you said about me,” and she stared at her feet.

“I meant it. We both did. I told you. Unconditional.”

“Thanks. I feel the same,” then, “what did he have to say?”

“He wasn’t going to start, not with all of them there.”

Emily went to her bag and took out her phone. “What’s her number?”

Jeannie stopped bagging garbage. “What?”

“Her number. I’ll call her now.”

“I, uh…”

She took a deep breath and looked her dead in the eyes. “If I don’t do it now, I won’t ever do it.”

“I’ll go outside,” Jeannie said.

“I need you here. Please.”

“I think that…”

Emily looked at her, tears forming. “Please, Aunt Jeannie. I won’t tell her you’re here but I’m afraid and I need you. Please.”

She sighed and gave her the number. The phone rang and she prayed for voicemail.

God was absent. “Hello?”

A deep breath. “Hello,” and she started to say ‘mom’ and stopped. “It’s Emily.”

A silence, then, “oh.”

“Stef asked me to call you and so I am.”

“So you are. How are you?”

Emily looked at Jeannie, who mouthed, ‘you can do this,’ “I’m great. Really, really great.”

“Oh.” That’s it, you bitch, she thought? “That’s good.”

She took a deep breath and, in her nicest voice, “And you? How are you?”

“We’re fine.” She pictured her pacing around the kitchen.

Emily took a deep breath. “You know what? You don’t care about me, so let’s just be real. You don’t want me in the wedding. Stef does and I want to be in the wedding. So I am.” Jeannie’s jaw dropped and then she grinned.

A pause, then ice, “Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah. I know that you don’t care at all about me. Six years ago, you made that very clear. And it took a long time but I realized that I don’t care about you or what you think about me. So, I don’t care what you or anyone else thinks. Stef is my sister. She wants me there - as a bridesmaid.”

“Is that so, Chris?”

“My name is Emily.”

“Your name is Christopher. You can call yourself whatever you want, but you’re Christopher and, guess what, that’s what everyone will see.”

“Not everyone.”

A sneered, “Oh, that’s right. Stephanie and Molly, sorry Jordan, and your aunt and uncle go along with this too. Well, they’ll be in a small minority.”

“Jared’s family does too.”

A derisive laugh. “Do you really believe that? Really?”

Emily wanted to cry, and then took a deep breath. “I don’t care what anyone else thinks. The people who care about me know who I am. Everyone else can go to hell.” Jeannie came over and rubbed her shoulders. “That includes you. Why did you even want to talk to me? So, you can tell me again what kind of freak I am? How you want nothing to do with me? Well, guess what, I don’t care about you either. I never wished you dead like you wanted me dead.”

“What a nice speech. Do you plan to give that toast at the wedding?”

She went to hang up and then stopped, “Some of us know how to behave, Laura,” which made Jeannie wince.

“Look at you, all grown up. Well, if you were an actual adult, you’d care about not ruining your sister’s wedding.”

“I’m not going to ruin it.”

“Oh really? When they start laughing at you when you come down the aisle in a dress and Jared’s family starts looking at them, and everyone starts whispering and pointing, you don’t think that’s going to ruin it? How stupid are you?”

She felt nauseous, all the self-loathing coming back and then she imagined throwing everything into the lake. “Is that your best?”

“Excuse me?”

“I asked if that was your best. Because if it is, you’re not nearly the bitch you think you are. Because, guess what, Jared knows about me. And his sisters. And I’m pretty sure his mom and dad. You know why? Because I know who I am. And I don’t need you. I needed you once and you told me to die and I didn’t die. And once I didn’t die, I realized that no one could hurt me like you hurt me. And now you can’t even do that. If people want to be assholes, they can be assholes if they want. I don’t care. I have a job and friends and a life here and I made it all by myself.” Jeannie silently cheered. “Just like Jordan and Stef are making it by themselves. Because we don’t need you or any of them. So, guess what? I’m going to be there. In a dress and heels and makeup. Because that’s who I am.”

“Are you through?”

“Why? Do you have something you want to say?”

“Like your sister, you’re big on speeches. So, now, it’s my turn. You chose to live your life the way you chose to live it. I think it’s a suicide mission, but your grandfather used to say that, if someone wants to kill themselves, don’t get in the way. And you have no idea how thrilled I am to hear that you’ve made a little life for yourself out there. I guess it’s good that you live there and not here, so that hopefully you won’t end up beaten up in an alley somewhere. Because, despite what you think, I never wanted you dead. Whatever you are, you’re my child. And I don’t want you to die, whether by your own hand or someone else’s. And you may walk around in a dress like you did when you were here, and yes I knew that you and Stef used to play dress up, it was fairly obvious, pathetic but obvious, and people may even call you ‘she’ and ‘her,’ but pronouns don’t make you a woman. Biology does. And I’m sorry that the genetic dice came up snake eyes, as far as you’re concerned, but they did. And a lot more people feel the way I do than you and your sisters, or whatever it is Jordan is these days. And I understand that you and your sister think you can bulldoze your way past everyone, but guess what buttercup? You can’t. And if you actually cared about Stephanie, you’d realize that and you’d stay away from here. We’ll Zoom the wedding for you.”

Emily started crying, then hyperventilating. “Goddamit,” she screamed and she threw the phone down and ran into her room, crying. She could hear the laughter from the phone. Jeannie came in, “I’m sorry, Emily.”

Into her pillow, “I knew it. I knew it. I knew it. And you knew it. And Stef knew it. And you all told me to call her. Thank you very much.” She wanted to tell her to fuck off and get out, but then she’d be all alone again. “I’m sorry.”

Jeannie rolled her over, so she was staring at the ceiling. “Do not apologize, Emily Claire. You did nothing wrong. I don’t know what she said, but she is a fucking bitch.” The phone rang. “It’s her. I’m going to give her…”

Emily stuck her hand out. “Gimme.” She picked it up. “Yeah?”

“I wasn’t finished.”

“I was.”

“I wasn’t.”

Emily took a deep breath. “You’re finished. I’m finished with you. If I ever thought about not coming, I’m coming now. And I’m going to wear my prettiest dress and my highest heels. And makeup. All of it. And you know what? I hope I make you sick. I hope you get sick and throw up and embarrass yourself in front of Jared’s family. And you know what? They won’t care. You know why? Because they don’t care about you. You think about them all the time and you think that they think about you, but they don’t. Except maybe they look at Stef and ask how someone so smart and beautiful and successful could come from backwards trash like you. But they probably don’t, because that would require them to care about you enough to think about you. Which is something I have in common with them.” She saw Jeannie smiling and shaking her head. “So, I’ll see you and Doug at the wedding. You’ll recognize me. I’ll be the one in the cute slip dress.” She hung up the phone, and looked at herself in the mirror. Face flushed and hair askew. “I fucked up, didn’t I?”

“I have never been so proud of anyone in my life,” Jeannie said.

“Huh?”

“You stood up for yourself. You told her off. Would I have called her backwards trash? No, that’s for the rest of them,” which made Emily laugh, “but the rest of it? Good for you.”

“She’s going to make life miserable for you and Stef.”

She smiled. “Your sister and I can handle ourselves, Emmy. And I know your sister. She is a bitch. She’s getting an earful from her right now and she’s giving two back.”

“I wasn’t too much of a bitch?”

She laughed. “Sometimes, you have to be a bitch, Emily.” Then, she gave her a hug and kiss.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I mean yes.”

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

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

“And they got a scholarship.”

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

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

The man stopped smiling. “What position?”

“Center midfielder, sir.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Umm, sir?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I'm sorry. Most people don't.”

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

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

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

Feeling nervous, “I like my family.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I do, sir.”

“You just said that you didn't.”

Kira, “That's not what they said.”

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

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

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

“How come?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My family’s fucked up.”

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

“Yeah, mine is especially fucked up.”

“Stef isn’t fucked up.”

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

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

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

“I doubt that.”

“The rest of them…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You look amazing.”

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

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

“Oh stop it, pookie.”

Jordan opened the door. “Hello?”

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

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

A small smile. “Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

Jordan smiled. “I lost out on sportsmanship.”

Kira widened her eyes. “You? No!”

“Ha ha. Shut up.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Kira’s a drama major…”

“Oh,” and she tensed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A brother. Jeremy. He’s 24.”

“Oh. What does he do for work?”

“Something with crypto.”

“What does something with crypto mean?”

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

“Why didn’t you just say that?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh. Does your mother work?”

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

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

Jordan looked up at the ceiling. “Ma.”

“I don’t think that’s any surprise.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not bad. Usual traffic.”

“How’s work?”

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

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

A groaned, “Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What was that out there?”

“What was what?” Jordan was confused.

“Seriously? You’re seriously asking that?”

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

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

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

Kira looked at them. “And the nastiness?”

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s weird.”

“It’s us.”

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

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

Kira smiled. “Promise...champ?”

“Ha ha.”

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

Jordan began poking back. “Not funny.”

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

Jordan, “I’m not laughing.”

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

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

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

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

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

Jordan smiled. “Really?”

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

“About?”

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

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

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

“I’m gonna go ask Stef.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He gave her a kiss. “Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Happy Thanksgiving,” eyes on the TV.

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

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

“Busy. The ironworkers are almost done.”

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

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

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

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

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

“All lies. I hear you’re an actress.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh huh.”

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

Jordan looked at him. “From who?”

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

“Wow. Seriously?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Work and stuff,” Jordan said.

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

Dad tensed, “From who?”

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

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

“Hey Em. Happy Thanksgiving!”

“Hey, Jordy. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

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

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

Em, confused. “For what?”

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

Em, amused. “When?”

“When we were kids.”

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

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

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

“Thanks.”

“How’s Keek doing?”

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

“Oh, fuck that. And him?”

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

A sighed, “Yeah, well…”

“I didn’t mean…”

“And I didn’t take it that way….”

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

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

A laugh. “So, food poisoning.”

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

“I bet if you try really hard…”

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

“Yeah.”

“So, please be extra nice to her.”

“When am I not nice to her?”

A sighed, “You know what I mean.”

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

“I love you Jordy. Just try, K?”

“I love you, too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stef laughed. “Who are the victims?”

Kira, laughing, “You two are mean.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh…”

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

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

Stef laughed. “Did you?”

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

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

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

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

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

“That good, huh?”

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

“I know. I just…”

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

“We were just talking.”

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

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

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

“Happy Thanksgiving.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jordan, “I know.”

“Do not let them get to you.”

Jordan, sighing, “I won’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

Jordan, smiling, “Just you what?”

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

“Only you?”

“Yup, just me.”

“What about me?”

“More than them, not as much as me.”

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

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

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

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

Kira, “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That's enough!”

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

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

“Pussy,” he snickered.

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

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

“Leave me alone,” she snapped.

“What are you doing?”

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

“Come on, why?”

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

Without looking, “Go away.”

“Jordan.”

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

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

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

“You are not a piece of garbage.”

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

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

“Yeah, he does. Did you see him?”

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

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

“For what?”

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

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

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

“Jordan, stop. Please.”

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

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

They took a deep breath. “Go ahead.”

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

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

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

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

“Jordan, stop!”

“Just leave me alone.”

“No! Don't you get it?”

They turned around, “Get what?”

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

“I won what?”

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

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

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

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

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

“No, he isn't.”

“He is.”

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

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

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

“No, she isn't.”

“Umm, did you miss what happened?”

“She's pissed, no doubt about it.”

“I'm glad you think it's funny.”

“She's in a car with Stef.”

“And?”

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

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

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

“I know.

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

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

“I'd rather wait here with you.”

“You don't have to.”

“I want to. ”

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

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

“Get in.”

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

In a quiet voice, “I know.”

“Excuse me?”

“I'm an asshole.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She told us.”

“You spoke to her?”

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

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

“And?”

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

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

“That's what matters, I guess.”

“You guess?”

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

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

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

“How to get back to your aunt's.”

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

“What?”

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

“Your family is there.”

“Who matters is here.”

A smile, “That's a little much.”

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

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

“I'm going to be embarrassed.”

“No you won't.”

“You saw how they were.”

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

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

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

Jordan, embarrassed, “Hey, Liam.”

He smiled, “You made me look bad.”

“How?”

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

“How fucked up is it in there?”

“The usual.”

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

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

“You pick a school yet?”

Liam smiled. “I liked UCLA.”

Kira, grinning, “We heard.”

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

Kira, smiling again, “It is.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s her problem?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I really love her too.”

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

“I know. I know. I’m trying.”

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

“We?”

“Yeah, we. You, me and Emmy.”

“I’ll figure it out myself.”

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

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

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

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

“Duh.”

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

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

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

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

“They won’t mind that we’re there?”

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

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

---

Emily Berrigan is a 23 year old transwoman, who hasn't seen her twin Jordan in six years. Not since she told her parents the truth about herself and they threw her out. Her older sister is getting married and wants Emily there - as a bridesmaid. Will sparks fly?
----
Dinner time! Do sparks fly? Oh, yeah, they do. But will a phoenix rise from the ashes?

----
Emily watched as Jared walked quickly to keep up with her mother, who was all but running away. She looked at Jordan and Kira, “I should've said no. I'm sorry.” A wind blew and she held down her skirt.

Kira let go of Jordan’s hand and took hers, “You didn't do…”

“It's uncomfortable for everyone. You didn't need that.”

Jordan shrugged, “She makes me feel like shit just fine without you there.”

Kira smiled, “We're working on comforting, it takes time.”

“I'm serious. If you weren't here, she'd have said something about my hair or my clothes or whatever.”

Emily looked away. “Maybe I should just go back to the hotel. Tell Stef I felt sick.”

Jordan stopped on the sidewalk, “Like hell you are, Ems.”

“Jordy…”

“Don't Jordy me. After six years, do you really care what she thinks? Really?”

“I just don't want to ruin dinner for everyone.”

Jordan laughed, “Do you really actually think that Stef won't lose her shit more if you skip out on her dinner? Are you that stupid?”

Kira glared, “Jordan.”

Emily held up her palm, “I know where you're going with this, Jor, but I can deal with her. I don't think I can deal with her.”

Jordan grabbed her upper arms. “Who paid your tuition?”

“Me? But…”

“Who's paid your rent for six years?”

“That's not…”

“Who's bought her car? Her clothes,” then, snickering, “her vagina?”

This made Emily and Kira giggle. “You're stupid.”

“I'm serious. You did it, Emmy. Not with anyone's help. You. And you'll keep doing it on your own. So why do you care what she has to say?”

“It fucking hurts.”

Jordan said tenderly, “I know how she can hurt you, believe me. But I know who you are too. I'm proud of you.”

Emily smiled, “That's so nice.”

Jordan laughed, “Don't get too used to it but I told you at the airport, we're all here for you.”

“I still think…”

“Remember Coach Wallace? Don't think. Just play.”

“I dunno.”

Kira looked at her. “Whatever happens, we're here, Ems.”

“I love you guys,” then watching the quickly retreating forms of her mother and brother-in-law to be, “we should catch up.”

They caught up with them at the restaurant, and the waitress took them to the table, each of Laura and Emily pointedly avoiding eye contact with the other, Emily taking pleasure at her mother’s grimace when Jared held out her chair for her. The air was thick with silence until Stephanie and her father arrived three minutes later, their own silence somehow more freighted.

Stephanie sat down next to Emily, who looked at her, only to be returned a look that stopped her from opening her mouth. She smiled at the waitress and then at the table, “So, what are we drinking to celebrate me?”

“Vodka gimlet,” her mother said, pasting on another grimace masquerading as politesse, “please.”

Everyone else ordered in varying degrees of strength, from wine for Emily and Kira to a bourbon (‘straight, no rocks, no fruit’) for Doug. Jared started to speak, and Jordan held up their hand. “I’m glad everyone is finally together.” To their father’s muttered ‘champ,’ they smiled, “No seriously, I am. I haven’t seen my sister for six years, and she’s never met Jared or Kira in person before.”

Doug looked at Stef, “You all met each other on Thursday was my understanding.”

Stef ignored him and smiled, “Jordan, that was beautiful. Kira, I think you’re a civilizing influence on them,” putting a slight spin on the word ‘them.’

Kira laughed, “They’re a work in progress.”

Laura smiled, “Good luck. I’ve been progressing with Doug for over 30 years.”

Jared laughed, “You’re so lucky, Stef,” and he put his arm around her, “I’m complete.”

Doug laughed, “Then you get married and you’re finished.” He looked at Jordan, “I’m glad you got what you wanted, Champ.”

Emily looked at the table. “I’m so glad I got to finally meet Jared and Kira,” and she sang Kira’s name while smiling at Jordan..

Staring intently at her menu, Laura said, “That’s so nice. Everyone is glad.”

“Mom,” Stef put her hand on the menu and looked at her.

“What? You’re all glad. That’s wonderful. Someone should be glad.”

Emily stared at the menu, deciding on what to eat and whether to run, when the waitress came over and introduced herself (‘hi, I’m…. Welcome to…’) and began reciting specials, landing on a tuna that sounded interesting.

When she finished, Emily looked at her and smiled. “Thursday?” The waitress smiled knowingly and shrugged. Emily thanked her and said, “Give us a minute.”

“Why did you send her away?” Doug said. “I know what I want. And what does Thursday mean?”

Emily smiled, “I asked her when the fish was delivered. Which means it’s four days old, which is not in and of itself terrible, but figured you’d all want to know.”

Stef smiled, “Em waited tables for six years. To pay her way through school.”

Laura, looking at the wall above Emily’s head, acidly said, “How interesting.”

Doug, not making eye contact with anyone, “I wasn’t planning on fish, but good to know.”

Stef smiled, “Do your opening, Emmy.”

Emily turned red, “No. We’re in public.”

Jared looked at her. “Aren’t you an actress? Don’t you perform in public as a job?”

Emily smiled. “This is different.”

“Come on,” and she did her pitch, complete with hand gestures, finishing just as the waitress returned. The waitress laughed and applauded. “Nice.”

Emily wanted to crawl under the table. “Oh god…”

The waitress laughed and started taking orders. When Jordan ordered a pork loin dish, the waitress looked at them, “You might want to consider…”

“Why?”

Emily smiled, “Trust her. Order something else.”

Doug smiled at the waitress and ordered. “Is there some secret code for this?”

The waitress smiled at him, and Laura glared. “You’re fine,” she said. “It’s one of my favorites.”

Taking Emily’s order last, she smiled, “Any allergies? Dealer’s choice?”

“Nope. Dealer’s choice works for me. Thanks.” Laura glared at the two women and the waitress rolled her eyes at Emily.

After the waitress left, Kira looked at her. “Dealer’s choice?”

Emily smiled, “I’m letting her pick for me.”

“She’s just going to pick the most expensive thing,” her mother said.

Emily looked at her. “No, she isn’t.”

Laura laughed, “That’s your problem, not mine. I know how much legal assistants make.”

Emily glared at her, then smiled and shook her head, taking a deep breath. “OK. I’ll be fine.”

Stef looked at them. “Don’t worry about it. I’m paying.”

Doug looked at her. “It’s your birthday. Don’t be ridiculous.”

Jared smiled, “I have this, don’t worry,” then, “You’re not gonna get like caviar wrapped in gold, right, Moji?”

The waitress came over with a ’bruschetta and crostini with a bacon and fig jam.’ “We didn’t order these,” her father said.

The waitress winked at Emily, “Compliments of the house, sir.” Emily smiled in return.

Laura smiled sweetly, “Thank you.”

Doug turned to Emily. “Do you get this everywhere?”

Emily laughed. “If I know the people there, sometimes, usually.”

“Huh,” and he took a bite of the crostini. “Glad you’re here then,” which saw Laura stand up and excuse herself.

—
Stef followed her to the bathroom. “What is the matter with you?”

“Really, Stephanie? What is the matter with me? Oh, I don’t know,” and she looked under the stalls to make sure no one was there. “Your brother is here and you don’t tell me. Then, you don’t tell me he’s coming to dinner or that he’s showing up in a dress.”

“First of all, Emily is my sister. Second, I didn’t realize that, on my birthday, I had to clear who came with you. Third, she’s wearing a skirt, not a dress.”

“Oh, a skirt. Never mind. I apologize.”

“Ha ha. Regardless, you’re not even giving her a chance.”

“You don’t have to clear anything with me? I don’t have to give anyone a chance.”

“I don’t understand why…”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you, Jordan or anyone else, Stephanie.”

“I wish you would. She’s incredibly sweet and talented and…”

“I don’t care, Stephanie. I will suffer through this dinner - for you - but that’s it. And we’re not done.”

“So dad told me,” she said drily.

She watched as her mother checked her face, staring at the beginnings of crows’ feet around her eyes, at the roots that were about two weeks from a touch-up. She washed her hands and went back to the table.

Jordan looked at Stef, who looked like she’d gone three rounds in five minutes. Stef gave a minute shake of her head and sat down, “Did you save us any?”

“One more minute and your dad and Jordan were going to eat them all,” Kira laughed. “But I saved you some.”

“I’ll pass,” her mother said, then sweetly, “You may as well apply the bacon to my waist. Stef, are you going to eat them? I mean, you were talking about dress fittings…”

Emily winced and then smiled. “I think she was talking about the dresses we were looking at yesterday, not fittings. And it was bridesmaids’ dresses, not a wedding dress.”

Laura kept looking at Stephanie, who said, through gritted teeth, “Your concern is appreciated, mom,” and then took a bite, “seriously, you don’t know what you’re missing.”

Emily took a bite and Laura smiled, “Oh, I can’t believe you’re eating that. Doesn’t the camera add ten pounds?”

“One crostini won’t kill me. Stephanie’s taking me to her gym tomorrow for a hip hop dance class.”

“Even still, I would watch out.”

“Mom,” Stephanie snapped.

“You wanted me to hear about…her and I was just asking,” and she smiled. Jordan reached under the table and squeezed Kira’s hand.

Emily kept smiling. “I appreciate your concern. Thank you.”

“You can’t afford to eat too much. I imagine there aren’t as many roles for people like you, no?”

Emily felt her stomach burble and her pulse race. Do not let her do this, she told herself. You are a strong woman and Stef loves you and Jordan loves you and Uncle Rob and Aunt Jeannie and Liam love you. You are not seventeen. She has no control over you. “There aren’t many roles for many people. It’s a tough business.”

“Still, don’t you think that you especially can’t afford…”

“Mom, enough,” Jordan snapped.

“Excuse me, Jordan?”

“You made your point, now stop it.”

Laura kept smiling, her mouth a rictus of anger. “Jordan, this is neither the time nor the place for your outbursts. No one wants a repeat of Stacy’s wedding.”

Jordan started to speak and Emily held her hand up. She turned to Kira, “What she’s referring to is Jordan was a junior bridesmaid and had to wear this pink dress and…” She and Stef started to giggle.

Kira looked at Jordan, “I am trying to imagine you in pink anything.”

Grumbling, but smiling, “Don’t try,” followed by, “I was thirteen.”

Stef laughed, “It was hilarious. I had to take them for the fitting. It was like wrestling a bear into a dress.”

Their father smiled, “That was not one of your aunt’s better ideas,” which got a hissed ‘thank you, Doug.”

“Anyway,” Emily continued, “the day of the rehearsal dinner, she puts Jordan in this dress that’s like for a 10 year old…”

“Which,” Stef laughed, “they could’ve avoided if they would have just gone shopping with us…”

Emily continued, “And they’re all pouty because they had to miss one soccer practice and they threw this total fit which made Aunt Jackie apoplectic…”

Jordan smiled, “It was a Friday practice, those were the most fun…”

Kira laughed, “I’ve changed my mind. Jordan should be in the wedding. Pink taffeta, total 80s retro theme…”

Stone-faced, Laura looked at the table, “The point of my story is that I don’t want any outbursts. I’m glad you all found it funny but I was mortified in front of my in-laws.” She turned to Stephanie, “Imagine your child,” the last word dripping with contempt, “made a scene in front of his aunt.”

Jared looked at Stephanie, then Laura, then Stephanie, “Do I want to know what this is about?”

Stephanie mentally kicked her mother under the table. “Michelle. My mother is referring to Michelle.”

Jared laughed, “Michelle can think whatever she wants. No one listens to her anyway.”

“See, ma? If my imaginary child throws a tantrum, we won’t be talking about it in ten years.” Then, smiling, “Jordan, promise me you won’t throw a tantrum at my wedding or my rehearsal dinner.”

“Can I get sloppy drunk and sentimental like Aunt Mo?”

“With or without racism?” Emmy chimed in.

Laura turned to Kira and Jared, “You’d never know that they fought like animals as children. I remember Stephanie calling Jordan ‘a wild animal’ and Jordan asking why Elly,” delivered with a smirk, “was such a sissy. Sissy Chrissy, that’s what they used to call him…”

Emily tried not to break. She counted to three, then ten. She pictured herself on a beach, the ocean lapping at her toes and warm tropical breezes blowing through her hair. She counted to ten again. She cannot break you, she will not break you. She smiled, “Yes, Jordan did. But some of us grow up and learn from our mistakes.”

Laura sneered, then smiled, “I was just pointing out how nice it is that everyone gets along sooo well now.”

Jared looked at the table. “Yeah, everyone fights. My friends used to say that with Jamie and me it wasn’t if we were going to kill each other, but when and how. My friend Alex used to say it was like Clue. Jared killed Jamie in the basement with a lead pipe. Anyway, so Kira,” and the two smiled at each other, “tell me where you ate in London. I’m going to be around Canary Wharf.”

“Oh yeah, we met my dad there after a meeting. There’s a tapas place, Iberica, that’s pretty good. And there’s always steak at Gaucho, but that’s mad expensive.”

Jared laughed, “On the company. Money is no object.”

Doug smiled, “Are you in the market for a facilities supervisor? Money is the object, the subject…”

“No one wants to hear about the company,” Laura laughed, as he looked at her.

“I can't wait to hear about the trip,” Emily bubbled. “That's on my list.”

“I'm gonna be there on business, Em. I could be anywhere.”

“Don't tell me that. Tell me how you're going to see everything.”

Kira took out her phone and began flicking through pictures, Emily leaning over and looking at all the tourist attractions. Unless she had guests, she wouldn't be caught dead in Hollywood or on a studio tour, but now she was oohing and aahing over Windsor Castle and Big Ben. “I'm jealous. One day though…”

The waitress came over and put everyone's dish in front of them, finishing with Emily. “Here we go. Moroccan spiced lamb over braised carrots, parsnips and couscous.”

Jordan groaned, “I missed that?”

Emily pushed her plate towards them. “Take a piece. There's no way I'm going to eat it all.”

Everyone took a small piece - except her mother. “I'm fine with what I have, thank you.”

“Seriously, honey, you should try…”

“I'm fine with what I have, Doug.”

Emily began chewing, “Oh, this is really good. Duncan took me spice shopping in the Persian supermarket, but…”

“You OK, Emmy?” Stef asked.

“I'm fine, yeah. Anyway, I tried cooking like this. Someone has to wait tables,” followed by a small laugh.

Jordan said, “Emmy and Duncan used to date,” and immediately regretted it when they saw their parents’ faces. “Anyway, I'm gonna eat my chicken.”

Their mother smiled, “You had a boyfriend? What happened?”

As the pit grew in her stomach and began burning, “He got a job as a sous chef in Santa Barbara.”

“Is that far?”

“About 90 miles.”

“I guess it just wasn't meant to be. Are you sure he moved to Santa Barbara?”

“Mom, enough,” Stef said.

“Yes, I'm sure.”

“Because one of the assistants at work had a boyfriend claim to move and then she apparently saw him in a bar.”

“He moved.”

“Mom, what's the point of this story?”

She smiled sweetly, “I'm just curious.” Emily stared at her plate, and mumbled something. “Did you say something?”

“I shouldn't…” Then, she stood up and took her jacket.

“Where are you going? We haven't finished,” her mother said.

“This was a mistake, a big mistake,” and then looking at Jared, “Sorry, I mean thank you for doing all this and it was great to meet you and you too Kira, but I think I'm gonna see if I can catch a flight tonight if I can change my ticket…”

Stef got up, “Emmy, stop.”

“No, really, I'm just…I need…” And she began crying and then ran out.

Stef threw down her napkin and went to get up. “Oh, just stop,” her mother said, “it's a performance, it's always a performance.”

Stef went to put on her jacket and her father stood up quickly. “Sit down.”

“Excuse me, dad?”

He looked at her. “Sit down. I will take care of this.”

Stef stood up. “You wanna finish the job, is that it?”

He looked at her. “Have I ever raised a finger to any of you? Exactly. So sit down.”

“Doug, where…” His back quickly disappeared from view.

He caught up to Emily. “Wait!”

She turned to him, eyes red, “Fuck you! Leave me alone!”

He went for her arm, when he heard the unmistakable ‘whoop whoop’ of a police siren, then, “sir, back away” through a speaker.

A female police officer got out of the car. “I'm going to have to ask you to step back.”

“This is my kid,” he protested.

“Sir,” and she put her hand on what Emily assumed was a Taser, “back up.”

Shoulders slumping, “Yes, ma’am.”

The officer looked at Emily, “Is this your father, miss?”

She started to say ‘biological’ but something in his posture made her just say, “yes.”

“Do you want him to leave you alone?”

“Please,” he said, “please, we need to talk.”

“I…”

The officer walked over to him, “ID, please.”

“Huh?”

“ID, sir, I'm going to run a check, then I'm taking down your information - and hers. If anything happens, I want to make sure you can be found.”

He stared at her. “Do you think?”

“Sir, ID. And then I'm going to follow you to a public place that you will not leave.” She turned to Emily and, in a softer tone, “you don't have to do this, if you don't want.”

“I know. Can I give you my cell just in case?” The officer took out hers and texted her, pointedly saying, “you text me if there are any issues and when you're done so I know you're safe.”

After he was handed back his ID, he looked at Emmy, “Can we sit in that hotel over there?” She shrugged and they began walking, the patrol car rolling slowly behind them. “I feel like a criminal,” and she shrugged again.

They walked into the lobby and found a couch. He looked at the coffee bar. “You want anything?”

“No.”

“OK.” In that ‘ok’ was every ‘dammit, Chris,’ and ‘stop running away from the ball, Chris.’

They sat in silence, until Emily looked at him. “I really want to be alone..”

“Rob and Jeannie showed me your commercial. You were very convincing.”

“Six years of waiting tables will do that.”

“That’s a tough job. A lot of time on your feet.”

In heels, she thought. “Yup.”

“It’s like construction like that, I guess.”

“I suppose. I’ve been to Uncle Rob’s site back home. Not a lot of similarities.”

“Oh,” and she couldn’t tell if he was hurt or curious, landing on hurt. “Oh. How is it?”

“It’s good. I mean, it’s an office building. A nice one.”

“Rob does good work, I hear.”

“He’s building one in Northbrook, he told me. You should go over.”

“Maybe,” then, after discussions of traffic and weather, “Emily, this is awkward for both of us. Can we try having a conversation?”

Never before seen vulnerability. “Um, OK.”

“I don’t know what to say here.”

“Me either.”

“Stephanie told me that you worked the whole time in college.”

Yeah, I didn’t have anyone supporting me. Know why? “I kinda had to.”

“I did too. I hated it.”

“I didn’t mind. I met a lot of nice people.”

“I had your grandfather and uncles…”

“Uh huh.”

“Yeah, well, I’m impressed. It takes a lot to do that. Paralegal?”

“For now. Until my acting takes off.”

“I would’ve figured you'd do anything else,” he joked.

Stone faced, “I get good insurance and my boss is great about auditions.”

He looked at her feet. “That's good. The movie sounds interesting.” She stared at the wall, watching the shadows fall over it. “Anyway, so Stef sent you her cheer stuff.”

“Uh huh.”

“Maybe get a role where you play three bridesmaids and a homecoming queen. I could use the space.” She laughed a little. “Look, I’m at a loss here.”

That makes two of us. “Why?”

“Because this is new to me.”

“It’s who I am. It’s who I always was.” She had practiced this in her head. “Whether you and she care to acknowledge that, it’s fact.”

“We’re not talking about her…”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I talk about her enough. She talks about her enough. I’m talking about me.”

“Oh…”

“Are you going to be like them or are you going to let me talk?”

She laughed a little. “Talk. I’m listening.” Silence. “This is where you talk.”

“I’m thinking.” She groaned and he said, “it’s a stupid joke, I hate it too.” Then, “Why did you come tonight?”

“Go to hell,” and she stood up.

“That's not what I meant. I just meant, I don't know…”

“Because I love Stephanie and Jared. Because she’s my sister and she would do anything for me and I would do anything for her..and him. Just because you threw me out on the street doesn't mean I'm not going to see them. If the cost of that is you and her, I'll pay. That good enough for you?” He laughed. “What?”

“Everyone told me you were sweet. I feel cheated. Seriously though, I don’t get it.”

“I told you. I am who I am. I haven’t seen Jordan in six years because of you. I barely get to see Stef, except when she comes to me…” Silence. Dead air. “Well?”

“I dunno.”

“What don't you know?”

“I...all of you... This is a lot, you're... And Jordan…”

“We are who we are. It’s not hard to understand.”

“It is. Whether you and Stef and Jordan think it isn’t, it is. We barely had gay when…”

“I don’t want to hear about that. Sorry but tell me why I should care.” She heard a sigh. “I’m not trying to be mean…”

A laugh, “You and Steffie say that. I’d hate to see both of you try…”

“We always existed. We just weren’t allowed to be ourselves. Not without getting beaten or killed. Sorry, if that’s too hard for you to accept.”

“I’m sorry…”

Taken aback, she sat down. “Excuse me?”

“I’m sorry. I failed you as a father.”

She was dumbfounded that he even offered that. “It’s not about you.”

“Huh?”

“It’s not about you. It was never about you. Everyone always thinks it’s about them. It isn’t.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Even if you had been a good father,” and she heard him take a deep breath. Good, she thought, as she continued, “it had nothing to do with you. I knew what I felt long before I ever felt anything about you. Nothing you were going to do was going to change that.”

“Oh.”

Oh? Oh? She looked at herself in the mirror, playing with her hair. “Honestly, whether you and she had treated me like you cared about me wouldn’t have changed how I felt.”

“Jeez, Chris.”

She almost left but wouldn’t give him the satisfaction or Stef the ensuing grief. “Emily.”

“Sorry,” and he almost sounded like he meant it. “Emily. It slipped out. I’m sorry.”

“Uh huh.”

“Apparently, I’m the only one in this family who doesn’t know just the right thing to say to hurt people. But, anyway, whether it’s about me, whether you would be this no matter what, I feel like I failed you...”

“Again…”

“Be quiet. I’m speaking now. I failed you. I let people treat you like sh...garbage,” and she was touched by the way he didn’t want to curse, “and I shouldn’t have. I tried to teach you to stand up for yourself, and I still don’t think it’s a bad idea for you to do that…”

“I do…”

“Good. But I let too many people, people I could’ve stopped, treat you like that because I was...it doesn’t matter. I did it and I shouldn’t have. So, whether I could have been a good father and you would still be what, sorry who, you are, I could’ve done a lot better. Sorry.”

She started to cry. “Emily?”

“You surprised me.”

A small laugh. “That’s two of us.”

“Now what?”

“If you come to the wedding, I’ll do my best to stop a shit storm. I can’t make any promises.”

“I don’t expect any. I appreciate that though.” Then, taking a breath, “what about her?”

He took a deep breath. “I…I…”

“Why does she hate me?”

He looked at her and unconvincingly, “She doesn't…”

She felt tears well up. “She does. You do. I don't care if you do but…”

She began sobbing and he hugged her. She couldn't remember him ever doing that. “I don't.”

“You do.”

“I don't. I'm sorry that you think I do, but I don't. You know what Rob says? About the default setting?” She nodded into his shoulder. “I grew up in asshole ground zero and all I knew was what I knew and then you…”

She pulled back, “That's not an excuse…”

He smiled, “One day, one woman in this family will let me finish a sentence. Anyway, I was embarrassed in front of them and instead of fighting them, I blamed myself and you. And I was wrong, and I'm sorry for that.” She stared blankly, trying to read him. “Anything?”

“I… I…”

“Yeah…”

“You know how many times I wished I could wake up and be Jordan, make you proud?”

She saw him tear up. “You were you. You were good at what you were good at and I should've been good with that.” He looked at her. “Ever since you were little, Grandma Dori would make digs about how you looked like her. You look like her, you sound like her…”

“Is that why she hates me so much?”

He looked down. “I never asked.”

She looked at him. “Why are you here?”

“Huh?”

“Why did you follow me?”

He took a breath. “You know that Rob and Jeannie love you, you know that, right?” She couldn’t get a read on his voice. Was he upset?

She fingered the butterfly necklace. “I love them too. They’ve been really good to me.”

“And Stef and Jordan…”

“You haven't answered me.”

“Emily, I don't know. All I know is that you were hurt and your sister was hurt and…Ok, what do I call Jordan?”

“I usually just say twin.”

“That sounds stupid,” he laughed. She shrugged. “I fucking hate Kev and Pete.”

“Sorry to hear that, but I'm confused.”

He took a breath. “I never expected the three of you to be in a room together as adults, but somehow you really seem to care about each other. And, when you ran out, I saw that falling apart and I didn't want to be responsible for more fucked-up Nehlens.”

“It's not you, it's her.”

“Emily, as far as I'm concerned, I'll stay away if it means you can see them more than once every six years.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, wow. What do you want to do here?”

“Dinner is probably cold. And I'm not really hungry.”

“Will you sit with me at Weiner’s Circle while I get a dog?”

“You really want that?”

“Yeah.”

And they sat, Emily watching him eat a Chicago dog while she sipped her iced tea, watching the people walk past.

—
A month later and Stef still hadn't spoken with her mother.

She was at Jared’s parents for a bris, his cousin Melissa having just had a boy. She was standing in the kitchen with her soon to be mother-in-law, and Jared's sister Jamie. Jamie looked at her mother, “All I'm saying is Stef's right not to ever speak to her again.”

Her mother looked at them. “I am, let's be clear, not defending what she did to your sister, she was unequivocally wrong but it's clearly bothering you.”

Stef was still not 100% used to the way his family addressed problems, talking, talking, talking instead of seething quietly. “It is but I can't. She made Em cry and then laughed about it. I can't forgive her.”

“You really want to get married without your parents there?”

“He can come.” Even as she said it, she knew it was ridiculous. “I mean, obviously he won't but she's all worried about them making a scene but I'm worried about her.”

Jared’s mother swallowed her lips and then exhaled her through her teeth. “Stephanie, you know I love you…:”

Stef gritted her teeth, then smiled, “No sentence that begins that way is ever good.”

“I know you’re upset. I’m upset too. I can’t imagine ever cutting any of my kids out of my life for who they are…”

Jamie looked at her mother, then Stef, then at the ceiling. “Ma…”

Her mother smiled, “As I was saying before I was interrupted, I can't imagine it but you can’t never speak to her again. It’s not a way to start your life with Jared.”

“I know and I’ve actually thought about this - a lot - and the problem is either I start the fight again or I pretend that dinner never happened, and I don’t want the first, and I won’t do the second.”

Jared’s mother looked at her, “You don’t have to but you know that you’re going to have to do it at some point.”

“What am I supposed to say to her? Seriously, what?”

“Tell her how upset you are.”

“I think she’s aware,” she laughed, as did Jamie.

“Did you tell her or just scream at her?”

Stef laughed, “Not just.”

“Do you want me to call her?”

Stef laughed a little. Her mom would lose it if his mother called her about this, asked her how she was feeling. She wouldn't have to worry about not calling her, because she'd either never speak to Stef first or be in jail for killing her. “I appreciate the offer but if this is going to get done, it's going to be because of me, y’know.”

–
The next morning, she called her father, knowing that her mother was out playing pickleball with Aunt Jackie. “Hey, daddy.”

“Hey Steffie. Please tell me that you're going to end this.”

“I actually want to have a conversation with her about Emily,” which was greeted with a groan. “Thanks, that makes me feel good,” she laughed. “No, I mean an actual conversation about Emily, a dialogue, with back and forth.”

Her father was quiet for a few seconds, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I don't think we ever actually talked about it. I think she threw her out and I yelled and she yelled but we never actually had a heart to heart. I wanna hear her out.”

Another few seconds of quiet. “I want you two to talk but what do you hope to accomplish here?”

“I dunno. I'm trying not to tell her anything, just hear her out and I dunno.”

“Steffie, I don't know if that's going to work but please don't scream at her again.”

“I'm serious. Do you think she can not scream?”

“Stef, if you're actually going to listen, I'll support you, even if it makes my life miserable.”

“Thanks.”

“I spoke to Emily for a few minutes the other day.”

Stef smiled. “She told me,” remembering how disoriented yet happy her little sister was.

“I'm trying..”

“So is she.”

—
The next weekend, Stef found herself face to face with her mother. They sat at Stef’s kitchen table, Jared and her father having gone to a DePaul basketball game at Stef’s request. “Your father says that you wanted to talk to me. To me or at me?”. Stef could see the tension in her mother's neck, the vein throbbing.

Stef smiled. “To, ma.” Emily, when told that she was meeting her mother, just said, ‘You do you.’ “I wanted to talk about Emily, about everything.”

“I'm not revisiting this,” and she angrily clinked her spoon around her coffee cup.

Stef thought about the mediation class for law school, about active listening. “Not about the wedding.”

“Then what?”

“Why.”

“Why what?”

“Why you hate her so much.”

“I don’t hate him.”

“Her.”

“You could have saved me the trip if we were going to go through this again.”

Stef took a breath, “I'm trying here.”

“So am I. I truly don’t understand why you would subject yourself and…her…to this. You know it will be awful. What is that you’re trying to prove?”

“I’m not trying to prove anything. She’s my sister. You wouldn’t ask Stacy why she had Mia in her wedding.”

Her mother had a look of shock and disgust. “You’re really going to compare the two? Have you shared with Mia that you consider her the same as a transgendered person?”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“What do you mean then?”

“You know what I mean. Emily is my sister, she always was.”

Her mother took a breath, held it and then exhaled. “You really don’t think they’re going to hurt him?”

“Her. Once again, she’s a her, not a him.”

“Fine, her. They will hurt her. They always have and they always will. But you’re going to prove a point, no matter who gets hurt.”

Stef looked at her. “She is a girl. You saw her.”

“Believe it or not, there is nothing I would want more. If I could wave a magic wand and change him to her, I would in a second. I know you think I’m cruel, but I mean it, I would. But I can’t.”

“So, once again, you’d let them,” her father’s family, “rule our lives. You hate them, I hate them, but we have to give in to them so they don’t cause a scene.”

“Hurting him is not making a scene.”

“You say that like you want it to happen.”

Her mother snapped, “Absolutely not. Whatever he thinks he is, he is my child and I don’t want him hurt in the slightest. I’m glad he’s made a life for himself, I truly am, but that doesn’t change reality, no matter how much you think you can.”

Stef looked at her, “I don’t, quote, want to change reality, close quote. I want my mother and my sister to be at my wedding and I don’t want to have to choose between you.”

Her mother looked at her, “But you will.”

“I just don’t understand why you won’t even try to get to know her,” and she hated the sound of her voice. “You would really like her, you always did.”

Her mother stood up. “I am going to go for a walk. Text me when Jared tells you they’ve left the game. I’ll meet your father downstairs.”

“So, this is how it ends?”

“How what ends?” Her mother’s eyes betrayed the calm of her words.

“Us. You, me. This is going to end because you would rather give in to them, to your own bigotry, than to even try and make an effort.”

“Don’t threaten me,” her mother snarled.

Stef looked her in the eye. “I’m not threatening you but when one of the most important people in my life won’t be in the room with another of the most important people in my life because of her own bigotry or her own fear, I don’t know what else I can do. Tell Grandma and Aunt Jackie that they’re still invited but I imagine they’ll cut me off like they cut Emily off. The difference is that I’m a grown woman and I can handle it.” She handed her mother her coat. “I’ll tell Jared to tell Dad to let you know.”

“Don’t you dare give me ultimatums! I am your mother!”

Stef shrugged, “You are and I will always love you but you’re making this decision, not me.”

Her mother grabbed her coat and stormed out. When she heard the elevator open, she finally exhaled and then bawled her eyes out.
—
‘Ur still not talking to her’ Jordan texted Stephanie two weeks later.

‘he called huh’

‘Uh huh u rly told her not to come’

‘No I said wasnt choosing between her and’ Norwegian flag emoji, the two having adopted the habit, post-trip, of sending random emojis in place of Em’s name. ‘her decision not mine’

‘i know and ur right and K sez ur right but’

‘the solution is in her hands not mine’

‘well we'll be there if were still invited’ Male shrug emoji

‘Ki is not u’

Laughing emojis. ‘good idea,’ then three dots then, ‘y is dad calling me about this does he think I can make u do anything’

‘ill call him make nice’

‘thx’

‘love u Ki 2’

‘love u 2’
–

Jordan hung up the phone and made a call.

“Jordan? Is everything ok?” His cousin Mia said.

It wasn't an unreasonable question, they spoke at holidays and at birthdays, each having made the decision that mom's family belonged to Stef. “Hi, Mia. Everything’s fine except it isn't.”

“Your father got you involved? This is serious,” she laughed.

“Yeah, tell me about it. So, what's up there with this?”

“They're both pig-headed.”

Jordan laughed, “Thanks for that, Captain Obvious.”

“Your mom is all freaked out, and mine and grandma keep telling her she's being ridiculous and she gets all pissed and then she cries and whatever but still we're here. Stef?”

“She wants Emily there as a bridesmaid and so do I.”

“So do I but do you really see Kev and P.J. not making this a shit show?”

“Fuck them.”

“Don't curse, Jordan, it's obnoxious,” she said in her mother's voice, which made them both laugh, “No shit, fuck them but now what?”

“You think if we got them in a room together, we could fix it?”

“You actually care, didn't have that in bingo.”

“I'm serious. Neither one of them wants this, I know dad doesn't, Em certainly doesn't.”

“How is she?”

“Call and ask for yourself. She's good.”

“Anyway, if I had another idea, I'd offer it. You want me to see?”

“Yeah, I'd appreciate that. Thanks.”

“I'll try my best,” and they discussed their lives for the first time ever.

—
A week later, Stef found everyone in her apartment, her mother at the counter, while her aunt and grandmother sat on her couch. Everyone sat silently until her grandmother said, “Thank you for doing this, Stephanie.” Stephanie shrugged and her grandmother said, “We,” and she looked at Laura, “all appreciate it.”

“You're welcome, I guess, but I don't know why you're here unless she's going to rescind her ridiculous ultimatum.”

“MY ridiculous ultimatum?”

Her aunt held up her hand. “Stop! Laura, we've talked about this…”

Her mother rolled her eyes, then looked at Stef, “Why would you do this to yourself?”

“Ok, we're done.” She turned to her aunt and grandmother, “I’d say I'm sorry you drove here but I told you…”

Her grandmother looked at her, burning a hole through her. “Enough! Both of you! Laura, if Stephanie wants her sister there, she's going to be there. You are not going to miss her wedding. You know that, I know that, so let's stop playing games.” Stef grinned and her grandmother looked at her. “Don't think you're getting away scot-free. They are animals, Stephanie. I know it, you know it…and Emily knows it. What does she have to say?”

“She's ready to deal with them, I've told you, she's become incredibly strong since you all cut her off because she,” and she looked at her mother, who looked away, “made you.”

“That was wrong but…”

Stef put up her hand, and looked at her mother. “Are you really going to do this without causing a scene?”

Her mother looked at her. “I understand you and your aunt think that, if you fight enough, the world will bend to you…”

“I'm not asking you to bend…”

“That's not what I meant. I meant them. I know Chr…Emily is going to be there, and as a bridesmaid. Everyone, them, Jeannie, your father, has told me that. I won't cause a scene. But I really don't understand why you would put him in harm's way like that. I don't want him to get hurt, do you? Because that's going to happen. We all know that.”

“I won't let her get hurt.”

“You'll try.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means.”

“Why do you hate her so much?”

Her grandmother started, “No one…”

“I asked her…”

Her mother looked at her, “Assuming you want me, I will be there, even if…Emily is. I will not misgender him, even though I believe that he misgenders himself, but I'll respect his choice for the day. I can do that much.”

“You haven't answered me. Why do you hate her so much?”

“I will give you what you want, it's your wedding and I'll accept it but that doesn't mean that I have to like it or even approve of it. In exchange, I will ask that you respect my position.”

Stef pursed her lips and blew out. “This was a waste.”

Her aunt looked at her, “Stef, stop. She is giving you what you want. That's all you're entitled to. She doesn't have to be…agree with you. Do you want everyone there or does she have to say you're right too?”

Stef walked to her mother, “Thank you for agreeing to be there with her. I didn't want my wedding without you and dad…”

Her mother had tears in her eyes, “Me either, Steffie…”

“I just wish you'd give her a chance. You saw her, how sweet she is…”

“I will be there. I will be in pictures with him. I will not insult or mock him and, once again, I will not let anyone hurt him but that's it. That's my last, best offer.”

Stephanie looked at her aunt and grandmother, “Will you please…”

Her mother looked at her, “I love you, which is why I'm doing this, but I don't have to like it…or him.”

Stef sighed. “I think you're wrong about her, but fine.” Then, turning to the other two, “Do you agree with her?”

Her grandmother put her arms on Stef’s upper arms. “Stephanie, I don't and neither does your aunt, but enough,” then turning to Laura, “I really don't understand you but I'm glad we at least got here. So, Stef, have you looked at dresses yet?”

Stef glanced at her aunt, who mouthed, ‘give her this - for me,’ and then said, “Uh huh, I was looking at this one, it's a mermaid dress, a slip one, not a whole lot of beads or lace or any of that.” She took out her phone and showed everyone. When her mother made a face, “What?”

“Nothing.”

“You made a face! Just say what you're thinking.”

Aunt Jackie laughed, “This sounds familiar. Right, mom?”

Stef laughed, then said, “Seriously, just say something.”

“It's very pretty…”

Stef looked at her, “But…”

“It wouldn't be my choice.”

Before Stef could speak, her grandmother said, “Then, it's good you're not getting married. She is and if you asked me to choose a dress for her, I would choose one like this, when has Stef ever been lace and fluff?”

“Thanks, Grandma…hey, I think that's an insult!”

Jackie laughed, “Be grateful she didn't tell you,” and she gave a deep sigh, “‘I guess it's ultimately your choice,’ like she told me.”

Her grandmother winked, “Was I wrong?”

“Not the point, mom,” she laughed. “Let's just say it was the 80s and leave it there. Anyway, Laura, she's going to look beautiful no matter what, and you're going to cry, no matter what, so let it go.” Stef grinned widely and her aunt said, “Win with class, Stef.”
–

Emily Berrigan is a 23 year old transwoman, who hasn't seen her twin Jordan in six years. Not since she told her parents the truth about herself and they threw her out. Her older sister is getting married and wants Emily there - as a bridesmaid. Will sparks fly?
---
In this chapter, Emily films her movie. Jared brings Jordan and her to Chicago to surprise Stef for her birthday. Emily sees Jordan in person for the first time in six years. Stef and Emily go bridesmaids' dress shopping. Oh, and guess who else is coming to dinner...
------
Movie sets are a strange place, a hive of activity, the DP checking his lenses, playing with filters, grips moving equipment, setting up lights and mikes, with the director the conductor, moving people around. Off to the side sat Emily. At CalArts, they had told them that acting was waiting, waiting for your scene, waiting for the crew, just waiting. She had resolved to watch and learn, not just play with her phone, when it buzzed.

Jared. Jared? Why would he be texting her? He didn’t text, just said ‘hi’ when she was talking to Stef. She wondered what had happened and felt herself get nervous, which was the last thing she needed before she was getting on camera. He didn’t help it with the text.

‘Call me’

Call me? Call me? No one called anyone unless it was awful. Or they never saw their family and that was the only way. But Jared wasn’t family. Well, he was but he wasn’t. As she began spinning scenarios, each worse than the last...

“Places everyone,” the AD yelled. Emily got out of her chair and smoothed out her shorts, as much to distract herself from Jared's text. Call me? She found herself thinking the worst, something happened to Stef. If it was anything else, Stef would've called her. She looked up to find the grip with the mike staring at her. She took a breath and decided that she would just need to nail the scene on the first take.

In this scene, her character came home from cheerleading practice to find her mother passed out. She was wearing her hair in a ponytail and a t-shirt tied in a knot at her waist, and shorts. When she had done that in an earlier run through, the DP looked at her funny until she explained how it meant your shirt wouldn't ride up when you did moves. Which led to him giving her the creative nickname of “Cheer,” and ending every question to her with a chant of “Ready? OK?” and doing what he thought was a cheer move with his hands.

Emily got up and went to the end of the driveway of the house they rented and began walking up, a backpack slung over her shoulder. She began walking up, thinking about what her character would expect to find and she took a breath and stiffened her shoulders. Which led to:

“CUT!”

The director walked over to her. “Emily, what was that?”

“What was what?” He imitated her taking an exaggerated breath and stiffening her shoulders. “What? She knows what she’s going to find and she’s preparing herself.”

He looked at her. “No, she doesn’t. How does she know?”

Umm, she thought, her mom’s a fuckup. Of course, she knows what she’s going to find. “I just…”

“Don’t. You came home from a good practice. You got a 97 on your chem test. You’re in a great mood….”

She nodded, thinking that she could hold two competing thoughts in her head but, again, it was her first movie and he was the director. “Right.”

“OK, let’s do it again.”

Emily went back to the end of the driveway and began walking up the driveway, grinning and looking around, and waiting for the inevitable ‘CUT’ that inexplicably didn’t come in. She walked into the house and saw the actress playing her mother passed out, a tequila bottle next to her on the floor. She disgustedly hung her backpack on a hook and began picking up the empty fast food bags on the floor, channeling Stef’s disgust at their cousins.

From the couch, she heard a slurred, “hey Britnee.”

Emily sneered, “This place is a pigsty.”

A sneered, “Hi mom. How was your day?”

She walked over to the couch and picked up a half-eaten hamburger and the empty bottle. “I can guess. Did you even leave the house? The couch?”

The actress sat up slowly. “Don’t take that tone with me.”

Emily rolled her eyes, “Whatever,” and began cleaning up.

“Come on,” the actress said, switching her tone to needy, “don’t be that way. How was practice?”

As she walked to the kitchen, the camera following her, “It was fine. It was practice.”

“And your test?”

“Wow, you remembered. Let’s see if you can go two for two. What subject?”

“History?” The actress said with uncertainty.

“Chem. So close.”

“I knew you had a test,” she said apologetically. “Anyway….” Emily walked over and picked up a half full glass of liquid. “Hey!”

Emily walked to the kitchen and dumped it. “You’ve had enough.”

“That’s alcohol abuse,” the actress laughed. Emily walked back in, with a glass of water and Advil, and handed it to her wordlessly. “I’m still your mother.”

Emily gave her a silent look that hopefully said, ‘really? You couldn’t tell,’ followed by, “I got a 97. On my chem test.’

The actress got up and gave her a drunken hug. “Well, that’s great.”

Emily pulled back, “What do you want?”

“I’m proud of you. Can’t that be it?”

Emily smirked, “It could be. But it isn’t.” She felt the camera moving behind her.

The actress smiled, “Would you be willing to drive me…”

“No.”

Indignantly, “I didn’t even finish the question.”

Emily, cleaning up the coffee table so as to have something to do with her hands. “Liquor store? Dispensary? Bar? Which?”

The actress stage-slapped her across the face. “You arrogant, snotty little shit.”

“Go to hell!”

Another slap. “I don’t know who you think you are, you little bitch, but you’re part of this family, and there’s no escaping that. So, just turn around and take me…”

“Like hell I will,” which got another slap. “I can’t wait until June when I can leave this shit hole…”

The actress sneered, “The door works now.”

“CUT! Great. Let me watch this,” and he huddled with the DP.

Emily laughed. “Fuck. You got a little close there, don’t ya think?”

The actress, an older woman named Francesca, at least 35, looked at her. “Just drive me to the liquor store and we won’t have a problem,” then, “what kind of loser drinks tequila by herself?”

Emily smiled, “Seriously. I mean vodka, cheap bourbon, but tequila? I mean, were you going to make yourself a drunk-a-rita?”

They looked over at the director. Francesca smirked, “I’ve done like ten of these,” which made Emily grimace internally although she kept her face impassive, “and I always wonder if these guys know what they’re doing.”

“Have any of the directors ever become anything?” They started walking to the snack table. Calling it craft services was an overstatement.

Francesca picked up a cup and filled it with water from the cooler. “Some have done some episodic shit. Nothing major.”

Emily picked up an apple. It felt mushy and she put it back. “Here’s hoping.”

They finished shooting the scene and the director sent them to wait, while they blocked the next scene. Emily went to a corner, took out her phone and called Jared.

“Hey, Emmy,” he said, brightly.

“What's wrong?”

“Oh shit,” he laughed, “I'm so sorry.”

She was ready to strangle him. She took a breath and exhaled, “You can't do that. You know you gave me a heart attack,” she said, as she played with her ponytail.

“Sorry,” he laughed. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah, well,” she laughed, “what’s up?”

“You know how Stef’s birthday is coming up…”

“I have no idea what she wants, if that’s what you’re asking.”

He laughed, “I’m not. I know what I want to get for her.”

“Which is?”

“You.”

Emily let go of her ponytail. “Huh? What?”

“I want to fly you in for Presidents Day weekend and surprise her.”

Emily paused. Stef was not one for surprises usually. She remembered a surprise party an ex threw her. Key word - ex. But she hadn’t seen her in over a year. “I can’t afford to do that,” she said, sadly.

Jared laughed, “That’s why I would fly you in. I have a ton of miles from work. It’s basically free. And I’ll put you up at a hotel.”

“That’s hella expensive. And you know Stef is not really big on surprises…”

“I think she’ll make an exception for this. It would mean a lot to her and me.”

Emily smiled. “It would be nice to finally meet you in person.”

“So you’ll do it?”

Emily sighed and smiled. “Assuming I can swing the vacation days. Yeah. I can do that.”

“Let’s make this a big surprise,” he laughed, “Don’t tell anyone. Not Jordan. No one.”

Emily tilted her head, not that he could see. “K, why?”

“I want this to be a big surprise for her and I don’t want anything leaking out. Please?”

“You know Jordy doesn’t talk, right?”

“I know but you know that if it gets out, she’ll be more pissed than if it doesn't…”

Emily couldn’t argue with the logic. “Fine.” She watched as one of the crew came towards her. “Gotta go. Looks like we’re filming again. Love you.”

—
LAX is the world’s seventh busiest airport. On its slowest day, it is a swarming mass of people from all over the world, each with no idea of how to work a ticket kiosk or how a line works. And it was President’s Week which meant miserable parents dragging whining kids, all of whom were ‘hungry’ or ‘thirsty’ or ‘bored.’ Emily remembered a trip to Florida, Jordan bouncing off the walls while they stood in an interminable line at O’Hare, and their mom threatening to ‘go back home and leave you there.’ At least it was Thursday so most parents wouldn’t pull their kids out of school. Instead, she was left with business travelers. At least they knew how TSA worked.

Emily went to print her boarding pass at the kiosk, when it said, ‘see gate agent.’ Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She looked at the line and cursed. Why can’t it work right, she thought? Oh well, she sighed.

After fifteen minutes, she reached the counter and held out her phone. “I don’t know what happened but I tried to check in…”

The gate agent, not looking up, “You’ve been upgraded to business class.”

“Excuse me? Are you…”

The agent briefly looked up. “Emily Berrigan?”

“Yes.”

“Then, you’ve been upgraded. Aisle or window?”

“Ummm, window?” The agent smiled and handed her a printed pass like she was 80. On the other hand, seat 3C.

She boarded the flight, the big chair feeling like it was swallowing her. The flight attendant came over. “Would you like a drink, miss?”

“Water?” She was unsure of the etiquette, of what was included.

“We have other drinks,” she laughed, as she listed them. “No alcohol though until we’re airborne. And I see some ID.”

Emily smiled, “Orange juice is fine, thanks.”

A woman sat next to her. Mid 40s. Brown hair, about 15 pounds overweight, in a dark blue pantsuit. She put her bag on the seat, as she stowed her carryon. She sat down and took out papers, not making eye contact. Not that Emily cared, it beat getting hit on. The flight attendant came over and handed her orange juice, and took the woman’s order. Then, the woman went back to her papers. Emily drank her juice and looked out the window, at the planes and the workers on the tarmac, ears covered as they moved planes and luggage around, a sort of ballet.

After they took off, Emily felt butterflies in her stomach. Six years. Six years since she’d been home, six years since she had seen Chicago, seen Jordy. She was already on edge, not having told Jeannie and Rob that she was coming, having been sworn to secrecy by Jared. She hated having to lie to them when they asked what she was doing, but a promise was a promise. Not that Jeannie ever spoke to Stef except at family things, but still. And now here she was, no turning back. Not that she wanted to, wanting to surprise Stef and finally meet Jared. Then, she felt even more nervous. What if he was just being nice on the phone? What if, when he saw her, he was like all the rest of them? She didn’t want to believe he was, but she had seen enough people get thrown out or worse to not foreclose the possibility.

The plane landed and Emmy went to claim her luggage for the train ride into the city. She had looked it up, it was an hour but she remembered enough about here to know that a cab would cost so much more and wouldn’t get there faster. She walked down towards baggage claim, when Emily saw them. There, in a heavy wool coat and jeans, boots on their feet, holding a sign saying, ‘Berrigan,’ stood Jordan.

Emily began to cry and ran towards them, enveloping them in a hug and not letting go. “Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod. What are you doing here?”

“Jared wanted to surprise you too,” they grinned.

—--
Jordan looked at Emily, surprised to see her in jeans and a green puffer jacket. After all these years, they weren’t sure what they expected - skirt, dress, ball gown. They had seen enough women constantly smoothing skirts under them, making sure their legs were crossed, to know that only an idiot would fly cross-country like that. Even in jeans and a jacket, there was no mistaking it. This was their little sister, the way she always was and should have always been.

Emily's eyes were red as she smiled. “I can’t believe that you didn’t say anything.”

“I told him I wouldn’t.”

“I can’t believe you still didn’t tell me.” Even the way she spoke. Then, a big hug. “But I am soooo happy to see you,” and she kissed their cheek.

Jordan laughed, “That’s enough.”

She looked around, “Is Keek here? Where’s Keek? Please tell me that…”

Jordan rolled their eyes, “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Ems. She’s at the hotel.”

“Why? I want to meet her finally.”

Jordan began walking to baggage claim, slowing down when they realized Em was running to catch up. “You will. She thought we needed some time alone, just you and me.”

Em smiled, “That was so nice of her, but she could have come.”

“I told her that,” they laughed, “I said that neither of us was that interesting. Then, she told me we’d have the whole weekend for all of us to hang out and we should find something to talk about.”

“You look really good. I like the haircut.” Jordan had it freshly buzzed before they left and ran their hand over it.

“Thanks. Mom…” Then they stopped themselves. ‘Mom’ was not a part of this weekend.

Emily held up her hand. “I can guess. And I don’t care. I like it. A lot. You look like you.”

Jordan smiled. “So do you.”

Emily grinned. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.” Then, “what’s going on with the movie?”

With that, Emily was off. They didn’t actually care all that much. Well, they sort of did, it was their sister and they wanted her to be a star, but, to be honest, they didn’t really understand grips and DPs and any of that. They just watched movies. But, they smiled, seeing how bubbly Emily was, the way that she upspoke and played with her hair and gestured. They remembered how excited she was when she got the lead in the play in middle school, how she wouldn’t stop talking about it until their cousins mocked her mercilessly and how she ran off, only to be told by mom and dad to stand up for herself. They felt their blood pressure rise.

“Jordy? Jordy?”

“Huh?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“You had the ‘I’m gonna kill someone’ look in your eye.”

Jordan felt themself turn red. “Sorry, I was just…”

For as close as they weren’t for a good part of their childhood, they shared a common language. ‘ I can read you like a book, Jordy.’ “Whatever it was, it doesn’t matter now. Now, it’s you and me and Stef and Jared and,” with a big smile, “Kira…” The last part sang.

“Shut up.”

“You really like her, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“You really, really like her.”

Jordan looked at her. “Yeah, I really do.”

Emily smiled, “Sorry. Then I’ll stop. You love her?”

Jordan felt mortified. “Uh huh.”

“Jordy loves Kira,” she sang. Jordy began wheeling the suitcase towards the parking lot, feeling eyes on them. She's my sister, they thought, not that it should matter regardless.

They got to the truck and Emily hopped in, butt first and then swinging her legs in, looking just like their mom. They remembered how she would yell at them whenever they went somewhere. (‘can you please do it the way I told you, Molly?) And how dad would roll his eyes when Em would do it. Em looked around. “I like it,” and she pulled down the visor to check herself in the mirror. “I really like it.”

“I didn't know if…”

She looked at them. “No one has a monopoly on pickups, Jor. I don't get PTSD from them.”

They pulled onto the highway and they watched as Em looked around. She sat there silently for fifteen minutes, just staring out the window as they headed east, looking at the billboards and industrial parks, not even sighing. Just staring. “You ok, Ems?”

“It's hella weird. Being here. Marissa told me it'd be weird but I was like no. But it is.”

“I get it.”

She started to speak, “We're heading the other way,” and her voice caught and she started to cry.

“Ems, it's gonna be okay.”

Still crying, “I promised myself…”

“Ems,” and they took their right hand off the wheel, and touched hers. “I know…”

She buried her face in her hands. “I swore and I did and now and this was a stupid fucking thing to do I know better…”. Jordan saw a service plaza ahead and pulled in. “Why…”

They turned off the engine and leaned over, pulling Emmy in. They remembered the night she told them and what happened after and they hugged her even tighter. They didn't speak, just let her bawl. They could feel her body wrack with each sob.

After ten minutes, she let go. “Thanks,” she said, with a small smile.

“Emmy.” They took in their sister, eyes rimmed red. They remembered the day in ninth grade when she came home bruised and how that day began the rest of their lives.

She didn't make eye contact, instead checking herself in the mirror. “I look like hell.”

“You look beautiful. Like you.”

“Thanks.”

They watched as she fixed her eyes, the gestures fluid and they realized that she'd been doing it for six years. Six years. Six years of missed birthdays and holidays and relationships and breakups. Six years of games and trophies and plays. Six years of life on a screen and they gripped the wheel tightly. She looked at them and smiled. “Nothing else matters, Jor.”

“I know,” they said, relaxing. “I…”

She looked at them, and flatly. “Nothing else matters.”

----

Stephanie took a deep breath to gather her thoughts before she killed Jared. Thursday night. It was bad enough to go out Friday after a long day but at least she could sleep in. Thursday was a weeknight. She had work in the morning and he was dragging her to dinner. Begging her to go. She turned to him. “I don't understand you. I'm tired. We have work…”

“I just heard good things about this place.”

“And so we had to go tonight? I swear, Jar…”

He held the door open and she walked in. He better not want appetizers, she thought, I will kill him if he orders one, as they walked through the dining room.

She stopped dead in her tracks and turned to Jared. “You…” she grinned. Standing up from the table were Jordy, Kira...and Emmy. “What the actual…”

Emmy came over and gave her a big hug and started singing ‘Happy Birthday,’ finishing with a silly game show hostess move and ‘surprise!’

Jordan came over, grinning. “Happy birthday, Stef,” and they gave her a kiss.

Stef grinned and turned to Jared, “How? How did you pull this off?”

Jared looked at his nails and then blew on them, “I am good…”

“Why didn't…”

Jordan laughed, “See, Stef, the way surprises work is…”

She punched them on the arm. “Shut up,” she grinned. Then, turning to Kira, “Are they always like this?”

Kira, looking up at them, “Yes,” then, with a kiss, “happy birthday!”

“I totally wish I knew that you were coming. I would’ve taken tomorrow off,” and worked at home in the morning.

Emily, in her blue tunic dress and heels, trying to look sophisticated, “It’s fine. We can totally amuse ourselves.” Then, bouncing, “this is soooo cool. I’m sooo happy. Are you happy?”

Everyone at the table laughed and Stef said, “Yes,” then turning to Jared and kissing him, “thank you Jar. This was amazing.” Jared just smiled and looked at Kira.

The waitress brought a bottle of wine over (‘pre-ordered’) and poured glasses. “Happy Birthday, Stef,” Kira said, raising her glass, “and to everyone finally together.” They clinked glasses.

“So, how did you get your stuff into the apartment, Ems?” Emily looked confused. “I mean, your stuff. Did you check it with the coat check?”

“Ummm, I’m staying in a hotel.”

“No, you aren’t,” she said dismissively. “That’s ridiculous.”

Jordan laughed, “You didn’t invite us.”

Stef looked at them and before they could speak, Kira laughed, “So you want to sleep on your sister’s couch instead of all by ourselves in that king size bed…sorry, everyone.” Jordan turned red and mock-grumbled.

Emily looked at her. “It’s like right around the corner from you. Besides, you don’t want me on your couch all weekend. And you have to get up early tomorrow.”

“We’ll see.” She knew it was unfair but Stef slightly resented that Jared could afford to do this, that, unlike her, he didn’t have student loans. “Anyway,” and she grinned, “I am so happy that we’re all together even if,” and she looked at Jared, who grinned, “it’s a work night.”

“We won’t keep you out too late,” Kira laughed. “So, what’s going on at work?”

Stef sat at dinner, watching as Em and Kira laughed and talked about acting and graduating, Em touching Kira’s arm when she was making a point. How they giggled at some joke Jared told. She looked across at Jordan and shifted her eyes towards the two girls, and Jordan just shrugged and smiled back.

—
Dinner finished and everyone walked to the hotel, the two couples holding hands.

“Why are you smiling so much? You didn’t drink that much,” Jordan laughed, as they looked at Em.

“I’m just sooo happy to see you guys and to finally meet Jared and Kira.” Stef smiled, thinking of how Em said ‘the hormones have made me a lightweight.’

Jared laughed, “You don’t have to keep saying that.”

Ems looked at him. “Sorry, it’s just a big deal to me.”

He came over and touched her shoulder. “It’s cool. Sorry. It’s totally cool to finally meet you in person,” and Kira agreed.

Stef looked at them. “So what are you guys going to do tomorrow? You can go to Millennium Park or Michigan Avenue or there’s some cool stuff in…”

Jordan looked at her. “We’ve all from here, Stef. Remember?”

Before Stef could roll her eyes. Kira looked at them. “Don’t be an idiot, Jor. Sorry, Stef.”

Stef took her in, this little brown haired girl in her red dress. “Do you think I actually listen to them?”

Jordan, without missing a beat, “You say something?”

When they got to the hotel, they all kissed goodnight. She watched to see if Jared flinched when he kissed Emmy’s cheek. “See everyone tomorrow.”

They walked to their apartment. “You had a good time?”

Jared kissed her. “It was great.”

“You’re not just saying that?”

He stopped and turned her to him. “It was my idea, remember?”

“Still…”

“Yes, I had a great time. It was great to meet Em in person finally. She’s even better than I expected.”

“You’re not just saying that, right?”

Jared rolled his eyes. “No. She is great and so,” and he bounced around. “Are you sure the three of you are related?”

“Shut up,” she laughed. “I could say the same thing.” Except that Jamie and Jared were exactly alike, cynical and smart, with the same strange sense of humor.

“I love her. My family will love her. She’s like a human emoji or something.”

She looked at him. “You are so articulate.”

He laughed, “You have a better analogy?”

Stef paused. “That works. I’d call her California sunshine, but that works.”

Stef looked at her phone, the one she hadn’t taken out of her bag all night. Six texts, one from Arden checking on dinner, three from other friends, and then… “Fuck.”

“What?”

She held out her phone to him. He looked at it. “Oh shit.”

From her mother….’Are we still on for dinner Sunday? Let me know when and where.’

—
The hotel was a former office building, ten stories and narrow, with a lobby barely big enough to hold two small two-seat couches, a front desk and a small cubby with overpriced water and snacks.

Jordan and Kira sat on one couch, Jordan’s arm around her, people watching, blissfully invisible.

Suddenly, Jordan saw something and began laughing. They poked Kira, who tried unsuccessfully, through her own laughter, to get them to stop.

Emily indignantly said, “What?”

Before Jordan could say anything, Kira said, “Um Ems?” Emily stood before them in a skirt, tights, a sweater and boots. And a winter coat. In her hand was a hat.

“What?”

Jordan, laughing, “It's like 40 outside.”

Emily, even more irritated, “That's cold!”

Jordan smiled at his sister, always the first to want to go outside after a snowstorm. The one who their mom had to force into a winter coat. Who could spend all day ice fishing...so long as she didn't have to touch the fish. “You have been…” And they stopped themself, having long since decided that the past would stay there.

Emily looked at them and smiled, “Six years in LA, Jordy. Besides, the hormones have fucked up my body temperature.”

Kira smiled. “At least you layered. If you get warm, you can take something off. Anyway, so I found this cool place for breakfast nearby if you're hungry.”

Jordan held Kira’s hand as they walked, listening as Em and Kira picked up a conversation from last night. Something about some play and finding the center of a character or something. If they were honest, they didn't actually care about theater. They loved Kira and loved seeing her on stage but, if you quizzed them a week later, they might remember fifty percent. Still, they just walked, listening to the sound of the two women's voices melding together.

They walked past a construction site and Jordan stopped, peering through the window in the green wooden fence. “Same old Jordy,” Ems laughed.

“You two can keep talking about acting.” They watched an excavator dig a hole.

Kira stood next to them, peering through the hole. “That's a deep hole.”

Jordan smiled. “Based on the depth, this is going to be at least fifty stories. And, from the footprint, commercial not mixed use.”

Emily, from a distance, “You’ve gotten good at that.”

“Yeah,” and they moved to make space for Emily, who stayed back. “There's a certain size you need for a building this big regardless, y’know for structural reasons, but res are usually narrower because there's fewer units in the building.” They looked around. “Not sure it's right for the neighborhood.”

Emily, “You don't really get this in LA, because of earthquakes and stuff. Uncle Rob says that's fine by him. Easier to build out than up.”

Kira laughed, “Two construction experts in one family. Wow.”

Em’s face darkened slightly and then she smiled, “Just one.”

Jordan walked over and whispered in her ear and she looked at them, “I can be near a construction site, Jor. It's fine.”

“You sure? Kira didn't mean…”

“I know and it's fine and let's stop talking about it.” And she started walking towards the restaurant.

---
Ems waited at the bar for Stef, who had texted, ‘meet me at 7 so we can get some time just us :-) b4 every 1 else.’ She was grateful to be out of the cold, and resting her feet. Uncle Rob had played her that old song, ‘Nobody Walks in LA,’ which was weird and tinny, but nonetheless true.

She watched as everyone came in from work. She had wandered the Loop today, just looking in the windows and watching the people. Maybe she had been in LA too long but there was something jarring about men in suits and ties. In LA, you wore a suit one of three times - wedding, funeral or court. She watched as a man, hairline receding and 15 pounds around his middle too much, approached a woman. The woman looked him up and down and then turned away, the coldness of the gesture making her empathize until…

“Hi.”

She turned to face the man. Maybe 30, if she had to guess. Beady brown eyes. “Hi,” she said.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Really, she thought, that line? She held up her glass. “OK, that was cheesy. Let me try again.” Not waiting for encouragement. “I’m Charlie.”

“Hi,” and she made a show of turning to her wine. “I'm Emily. And I'm waiting for my family.”

He smiled, less charming than homicidal. “How about while you wait, we talk? You can do that.”

Emily nervously laughed as he moved forward, and she put her hand over the top of her glass. “Ummm.”

Now, in her space, “We’re just talking.” The bartender, a woman in her 30s, moved closer. “Can I get you a drink, sir,” the last word spat out. She looked at Emily, who gave a minute nod. Emily knew the drill. All those years in restaurants had taught her. You couldn’t tell him to move away, not without more. Instead, she poured the drink he ordered and hovered close by, watching him. When he moved closer to Emily, she moved nearby to wipe the bar. When he put his hand near Emily’s, she made a show of calling over a waitress to bring drinks to a couple leaving the bar. Eventually, the man took the hint and left, and Emily mouthed ‘thanks’ and tried to remember what she had in her wallet.

Ten minutes later, she saw Stef walk in. Stef came over and gave her a kiss, “Hey, Ems. How was your day?”

She smiled, “Good, good. Walked around.” She took in her older sister, her idol, in her black pantsuit, white shirt and boots. How she had dreamed of looking that put together. “You know.” Stef smiled. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to spend some time with my sister, before they all got here. I like this outfit.” Emily was wearing a green v neck sweater and a black skirt, with black tights and booties. “Very cute.”

Emily looked at her. “What’s up, Stef? I wanna spend time with you but we could do that tomorrow and this text was a little too much.”

Stef laughed, “That hurts, wow.”

Emily took a sip of her drink, swallowed (grateful that she never had an Adam’s Apple to speak of) and said, “Just tell me.” Stef took out her phone, scrolled and handed it to her. Emily shrugged. “So I’ll find something else to do. Me and Jordy and Kira. Or just me.”

Stef put her phone back in her purse. “I want you to come.”

Emily took a big drink. “Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think it’s a great idea.” The bartender came over and Stef ordered two vodka tonics, not asking whether Emily drank that or even wanted another before dinner.

“I do.”

“I don’t.” She looked at the vodka and moved the glass around, unwilling to drink without some food in her. “Besides, have you told her I’m here?”

Stef took a sip. “Not yet. I wouldn’t do that without asking you.”

Emily watched as a couple came in, twenties, his arm around her waist, while the woman stiffened. “Thanks for that.”

“Emmy…”

“Sorry, it’s just….”

“You know that you’ll have to at some point…”

“I was thinking at the wedding reception.”

“Emmy, no.”

“You really wanna celebrate your birthday with this? Really?”

Stef put her hand on the bar and leaned in. “We need to do this at some point. You’ll have Jordy and me there. You can do this.”

Can I, Emily wondered? Do I even want to? “You know what she said to me before.”

Stef sighed. “I…”

Emily looked at her. “It really hurt.”

Stef looked at her. “I thought you said you told her off…”

“I did,” and tears formed in her eyes, “but it doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt a lot. I know she wants nothing to do with me…”

Stef hugged her. “She will not do that. Not on my watch.”

From inside Stef’s shoulder, “You can’t stop her.”

“I’ll throw her out and never speak to her again.” She felt Stef stiffen.

She pulled back and wiped her eyes with the napkin on the bar. “Let me think about it.”

“Please?”

“This is a lot to process, Steffie.” She finished her wine.

—
Jordan, Emily and Kira were walking back from dinner to the hotel, Emily to get a change of clothes. She was dragging her feet, feeling the jet lag and the text combined. Her eyes were starting to droop. All she wanted was to lay down in bed and call Marissa to debrief, to get her opinion. But she wasn’t here for that. She was here for Stef, which meant throwing a change of clothes in a bag.

“I value your opinion,” Em said, pulling her coat around herself, while Jordan and Kira walked, coats open.

Jordan looked at her. “It’s gonna suck, no doubt.”

“So, I shouldn’t do it. That’s what I thought.”

Kira, “I dunno, Ems. It’s gonna suck no matter what. But, at least this way, it’s just the two of them and not the rest of them,” and she looked at Jordan, who gave a smile and a shrug, “and we’ll be there.”

“You guys shouldn’t have to get stuck in the middle of this,” Em said. She looked at Keek, at the way she looked at Jordy. All 5’4” of her, dark hair down below her shoulder blades, petite but with a chest. For someone who hated their mother, Jordy had a type. She made a note to ask her about her dress.

Jordan laughed, “I’d get stuck, no matter what. You really think Da..he would let me out?”

Emily, “You can call him ‘dad’ if you want. He’s your father,” which made Jordan wince and then sigh. “You don’t have to hate him on my account although,” and she laughed, “if you loved me, you would.”

Kira laughed and said, “Jordan doesn’t think much of their mother. That’s gotta be worth something.” She dropped Jordan’s hand and took Emily’s. “Em, I get how scary this is. I really do. But, you kinda have to do this.” She felt her fingers on her palm and smiled.

Em looked down. “You don’t get it. She told me what a piece of shit I was and dead named me and all that. And it hurt.”

Jordan, “Stef told me that you called her a crazy homeless bitch.”

Em, still looking down as Kira tightened her grip. “Still hurt.”

Jordan, “Em, I will kill them if they do anything.”

“Thanks.”

“I mean it.”

Emily, smiling, “I know.”

Kira, “Ems, we are here for you. And we will always be here for you.”

—
They walked towards the bridal boutique in Old Town, Emily oohing and aahing at the number of pedestrians, how people would talk about ‘how walkable’ a neighborhood in LA was and that meant maybe five or six blocks. “I love all these brownstones. They’re so cute.”

Stef laughed, “Cute and expensive.”

“Still, it’s so much fun here.”

Stef looked at her little sister, hair in a ponytail, in her jeans and sneakers, light makeup, swimming in the Harvard sweatshirt she stole from Jared this morning, looking maybe 19, maybe, the way she talked and gestured and how excited she was when she suggested looking at bridesmaids’ dresses. Stef had watched the grin come across her sister’s face and felt a pang of sadness, of regret. She remembered when Ems was eight, how she was just singing while she colored and how Grandpa Pete told her to stop ‘being so goddamned fruity,’ and how dad just stood there. How he stood there when Ems had to get stitches in the seventh grade because of what those boys in school did, the fight mom and dad had about what to do. How, for six years, there was a piece missing at every holiday.

Ems snapped her out of herself. “What’s wrong, Stef?”

“Nothing.”

Ems took a sip of coffee from the to-go cup in her hand, her lip . “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does.” Then, she grinned as she remembered dragging Jordan for the junior bridesmaid’s dress. How her mother paid her $50 to get her to take them for a fitting. And how she had to pay them $20 not to fight her. (‘you’re losing this fight, Molly. Whether to me or to mom. You may as well as make some money.’) She started laughing.

“What?” Em said.

Stef laughed. “I was remembering when I had to take Jor…”

“Ohmigosh, that was hilarious. We should totally tell Keek that story.”

She started to say something else and stopped herself, then touched her sister’s arm. “I told Arden I’d FaceTime her if we did it.”

“K. Of course.” Which led to a long discussion of how residency was killing Arden, how she barely had time to sleep and eat, much less shop (‘I trust you and Ems’). “What do Jamie and Brooke think?”

“You’ll ask Jamie tonight. We’re meeting them and Jar’s cousins for drinks.”

“Will they be OK with me?”

Stef stared at her. “Why wouldn’t they be?”

She watched her sister shrink into the sweatshirt. “I don’t want…”

Stef looked at her. “Jamie knows. And I’m pretty sure Nicki does too. Besides, they’re all super progressive and shit. Like Jamie has that ‘in this house we believe’ sign in her window.”

“I just…”

Stef gave her a serious look. “You are my sister. That’s it. Someone has a problem, they have the problem. Not you or me.”

“I just…”

“They love Jor, they love Keek, they’ll love you.”

“And Jared?”

She rolled her eyes and sighed theatrically. “The fact that he calls you ‘moji’ should be a clue, Emmy.” Jared had decided her nickname was ‘emoji,’ and was fruitlessly campaigning for everyone else to adopt it. “He still isn’t sure that we’re related.’

They walked into the boutique, the bell over the door tinkling. Stef watched as Emmy took everything in, eyes widening at the racks of silk and taffeta and sequins, at how her whole body relaxed, then her posture straightened. She looked at Em’s chest and made a note to ask how it got a half-size bigger overnight. She had been in these stores countless times and wasn't one of those brides besides, but then remembered the trip to the shop in DeKalb when she was a junior in high school, for Stacy’s wedding.

The saleswoman came over. “Hi, how can I help you today?”

Emmy all but bounced. “My sister is getting married and I'm in the wedding…”

The saleswoman smiled knowingly. “First time, huh?” Emmy blushed, which made it only more fun. “Do you go to Harvard?”

“Ohmigosh, no.”

“Did you apply there? Are you waiting to hear?”

Stef covered her mouth and laughed, then said, “She’s very superstitious about it,” which made Em roll her eyes.

“Ah, I understand, my niece was the same way,” then, “any thoughts?” Stef just grinned and pointed at Emmy, who had made a beeline to one dress.

“Ooh, I like this.” It was pale blue halter dress with a high neckline and tea length. Stef thought how Arden never liked going sleeveless (something to do with her mother) but decided she was maid of honor and so they could develop a work around if need be. Emily turned to Stef, “I’m gonna try this on. I mean, is that OK? It’s your wedding.”

Stef smiled, “Go for it, Emmy,” and she watched her little sister bounce off happily to the dressing room. Em came out in the dress and made a beeline for the three way mirror, turning this way and that, checking herself out. The saleswoman handed her a pair of heels, at least 3”, and she slid them on, and turned some more, the grin splitting her face open.

“I like this one,” Emily said.

The saleswoman winked at Stef, and said, “Emmy, right? The fun comes from trying on a bunch of different ones.”

Stef FaceTimed Arden, put her finger up to her lips and turned the camera to face Emmy. She muted it as Emmy came in and out in a variety of dresses, giggling with each one, rejecting a strapless dress after looking at her chest and grinning at a pale green dress with wide straps (‘I mean, obviously, it’s your choice’ halfheartedly offered after each one). She was in a floor length gown with a split, checking out her legs (‘does this make me look short?’), when Stef turned off the mute.

“Hey, Emmy,” said Arden, laughing. “Having fun?”

Emmy rushed over and grabbed the phone, grinning, “Ohmigosh, Arden, omigosh, omigosh,” then, looking at a grinning Stef, “how long has she been watching?”

Arden laughed, “Since the blue one with the sweetheart bodice. You look gorgeous, Emmy.” Another laugh and “do I get a vote?”

Emmy turned bright red. “Of course, of course, ohmigosh. Hang on. I’m gonna go change and then I want to talk to you…”

Stef excused herself and walked outside. Before she could speak, Arden said, “Oh my god, she is so cute.”

“Totally,” then, “I hate that it…”

Arden held up a hand to a screen. “Stop, Stef. It doesn’t matter. You know that…”

A sigh and, “I wanted her to have this, y’know. It just…”

Unspoken was tomorrow. “Stef, I know you. And I know what you want. But you can’t control that. Just enjoy the day.”

Emily came bouncing out of the store. “Hey, Arden.”

“Stef,” came the voice, “take the phone so I can see.” Stef walked back and Emmy posed, arms spread wide, to the confusion of two guys walking past. “Oh my god, the little girl from Ann Arbor is all grown up,” she teased.

“Stop,” Em laughed.

“You look amazing and congrats on the movie and commercials. Stef sent me the link. You did great.”

“Thank you thank you thank you. How’s residency?”

A laughed, “Sucks.”

“When can I see you? I mean, I can’t believe I haven’t seen you.” Arden lived in Culver City, doing her residency at UCLA.

Arden laughed, “I’ve been really busy but I definitely want to see you. I still can’t believe it…” And they talked about school and work, Stef watching as Em bubbled along. She smiled to herself at Arden who called Em ‘she’ that weekend, never slipping up again. Arden, who took the phone from Stef senior year when Em called, crying, and told her, ‘you are a special girl and one day the world will know that.’ Arden, who made sure that Stef never wavered in support (‘she needs you and you know that’).

Emily was looking in a store window, when Arden just said, “Stef.”

“I know,” and she watched a woman being dragged by a Bernese Mountain puppy across the street, through traffic. “I know. Anyway, I’ll call you later…”

—---------------------------
Kira leaned up against the headboard, flicking through the TV. They were in the room, hanging out for an hour before dinner and drinks. “There is nothing on,” eventually stopping on a home improvement show, her mother’s favorite, laughing to herself at her father’s, ‘for all the money she spends on magazines on houses, we could buy an actual house.’

“Don't pick that backsplash,” Jordan said to the TV, “once it's installed, you're gonna regret it.” Kira looked at them. “What? That's too much for behind that sink. They should choose the second one.”

They sat watching the show for a while in silence, Jordan's arm around her while she snuggled in. Jordan kept looking around, squirming slightly. “Everything ok, pook?”

“Yeah.”

“What's bothering you?”

“Nothing,” then, “this is a mistake, isn't it?”

“This what?”

“Em…”

“She will be fine. Stef says…”

“I'm just…she seems so…and…”

Kira looked at them, “She's great.”

“You really think so?”

“Yeah. I told you that. I love her.”

“I just feel like this is going to go really bad.”

Kira looked at them. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Yeah, maybe. But what's the other choice?”

Jordan looked at the ceiling. “I…just… I'm just worried.”

“Your mom won't do anything.”

Still staring at the ceiling, “You really believe that?”

Kira, looking up as well, “Not with me and Jared there. She won't embarrass herself like that. Not in front of other people.”

“You're not other people…”

She smiled, “To her, we are. I've been watching her and listening. She's afraid of being embarrassed in public. Especially in front of people she thinks have money.”

Jordan looked at her. “That's harsh. You're judging her?”

“No. And neither is Jared. But she thinks we are. You really think I judge them, care about any of that?”

Jordan, looking at the wall, “No…sorry. I mean your dad judged me,” then regretted their words immediately.

Kira turned their head to face them. “That's not about money. That's about me. You could be rich and he still would've done that.”

“I didn't mean anything… I'm just worried…for Emmy.”

Kira kissed them. “It has to happen sometime.”
—-
Emily stood in Stef’s bedroom, looking at herself in the mirror, at the black skirt and cinnamon sweater she had taken on and off three times. She sighed, “I don’t know why I’m nervous. They should be nervous, not me. Why am I nervous? I’m not.” The beads of sweat on her forehead belied her claim.

Kira sat on the bed. “You shouldn’t be. You look amazing.”

Emily smiled, “Thanks, Keek.” She looked at herself in the full length mirror and smiled. “I can do this.”

Stef came over behind her, and looked at her in the mirror. In the reflection, Stef’s two extra inches loomed disproportionately. She put her hand on her shoulder. “You can. I know you can.”

“Jordan and I know you can,” Kira said. Over the past three days, Emily had come to love her even more, not just the way that she clearly loved Jordan but her calmness and kindness, the way that she slid into ‘we.’ “You have the four of us.”

Emily looked at herself. She had learned how, had taught herself how, to be happy, to know that she deserved it as much as anyone, which made the overwhelming cloud of dread that much scarier, more pernicious. Everyone could tell you that you were strong and powerful but everyone wasn’t you. She took a deep breath and told herself that nothing mattered. She had celebrated Stef’s actual birthday with her - not them, her. No matter what happened, they couldn’t take that away from her. “I know,” she all but whispered.

Stef moved her from the mirror and looked at her. “Emily, we are here. We will always be here. I’m not trying to pick sides…”

“I don’t want you to…”

“But if I have to, I will pick you. I’m serious.”

“I wouldn’t make you….”

Stef smiled, “You couldn’t make me, Emmy,” which made Kira laugh, “but you wouldn’t have to.”

Kira coughed, “Can I say something?”

Em looked at Stef, then said, “K, sure,” with a slightly rising inflection.

Kira smiled, “She won’t do anything. Don’t take this the wrong way but I told Jor, she’d never make a scene in front of me and Jared. She doesn’t want to be embarrassed, especially ‘cuz she thinks we’re judging her. That’s her biggest fear.”

Em looked at her and Stef laughed, “What?”

Kira said, “I saw it at Thanksgiving. She wants to feel superior to them,” her in-laws, “and she figures they make scenes all the time and that’s like her biggest fear, especially in front of me and Jared, that she’ll be seen as them. I mean we’re not judging her or anything but that’s what it’s about and stuff.”

Stef whistled, “That’s cold, Keek.”

Kira turned red, “I didn’t mean it badly.”

Stef, “It’s hilarious though,” and she paused, “and pretty on point.”

Em looked at them, “I hope you’re right.”

Kira paused, “I’m pretty sure. Just treat this like an exercise. Whenever my aunt and uncle are over, I pretend it’s a play or something.”

Em smiled. “Me too. I just have to remember that they’re not them, they’re just them. Right?”

—-
The three women left the room. “I was gonna send in a search party,” Jared laughed. “You OK, Moji?”

Emily smiled at the nickname he kept trying to get everyone to adopt, his sister having told him last night, ‘just stop, this isn’t mom and dad with a dog, no one is listening,’ “I’m good,” maybe.

He kissed her cheek. “Whatever happens, we’re here.”

Jordan smiled from the couch, “I’m a free agent, for sale to the highest bidder.”

Emily looked at them. “Shut up. Like I’d want you.” Six years of not seeing each other in person had easily fallen away.

“Make it worth my while.”

Before Emily could speak, Kira piped in, “I can make it worth your while. Or definitely not worth your while.”

Jordan smiled, “I’ll keep that in mind,” and then looked at Emily.

Emily looked around, “What?”

Jordan looked at her. “What what?”

“You were looking at me,” and she almost ran back in and changed.

Jordan looked at Kira, who glared at them. “I wasn’t looking at you. I was just looking.”

“At me,” and she sat at the kitchen counter.

“I was just looking.” Stef was now glaring at them. “Seriously. You look good. Really. I mean it.”

“Really?” Jared handed her a bottle of water and she took a sip.

“Yeah, really. You look like you,” then laughing.

Stef glared and snapped, “Now what?”

“I started thinking about Johnny Harper,” which made Stef laugh and Emily turn red.

“Who’s that?” Jared asked.

Jordan looked at Stef, who said, “The guy we met when we went to my parents after we got engaged? Remember?” Jared grinned.

Kira laughed, “You have to tell me.”

“No they don’t,” Emily mumbled.

“Ems had this huge crush on him,” Jordan laughed. “Even I noticed.”

Stef grinned at Emily, then, “Kinda hard not to notice. She used to surreptitiously - barely - watch him mow our lawn with his shirt off.”

Emily was now purple. “I’m leaving,” she whimpered.

“It’s funny, Em,” Kira laughed. “Everyone had those crushes. I spent like all summer at the pool when I was 14 watching this lifeguard Paige,” and then, tapping Jordan on the head, “but I was waiting for you.” Which was greeted with a vomiting noise.

Jared stood by, smiling quietly. “This doesn’t bother you, does it?” Emily asked.

Jared laughed. “Why would it bother me?”

“I dunno…”

“Moji,” which got a groan from the room, “I don’t care if you had a crush. I mean, I saw him and he’s a little obvious for my taste…seriously though, no. Why would you think it would?”

“I just…”

“Em,” and he smiled again, “you’re Stef’s little sister. That’s it.”

She looked at him, “If it’s weird…”

He smiled, “It isn’t. Promise.”

She kissed his cheek, “Thanks, Jar.”

—
The buzzer rang. Jordan took a deep breath and exhaled. Stef straightened her shoulders. Jared and Kira looked at each other, and Emily stood up and straightened her skirt.

Two minutes later, the doorbell rang. “Happy birthday, Ste…” her mother said happily, then stopped. Emily stood mute. “Stephanie,” she snapped, then noticed everyone else. Then, she smiled. “Kira, Jordan, what a nice surprise.”

Jordan looked at her. “Jared brought us all here as a surprise for Stef’s birthday. Put us in a hotel and everything.”

Laura turned to Jared, “Well, that was very generous of you,” she said brightly, through gritted teeth. Emily still didn’t speak and Jared said, “Where’s Doug?”

Laura smiled tightly, “Oh, he’s parking the car. He’ll be up soon.”

Stef smiled brightly. “Would you like a drink, mom? Or do you want to wait until dad’s here, so we can toast to us all being together again?”

This was met with a glare and silence. “I assume you two drove?”

Kira smiled, “The other day.”

“I’d ask why you didn’t tell me you were in town, but I can guess.” She still hadn’t made eye contact with Emily. “Have you been enjoying yourselves?”

Stef smiled, “We went out with Jared’s family yesterday. They all loved Emily.”

“Dinner or just drinks?”

“Drinks,” Stef smirked. “The five of us went to dinner at the…”

“Where’s your father?” Laura interrupted. “He’ll make himself crazy looking for a spot and then make me crazy all night.”

The buzzer rang again and two minutes later, Doug walked in. “Happy birthday, sweetie.” He looked over her shoulder and stopped. “Holy shi…”

“Doug, that’s enough. This isn’t a job site. I’m sure Kira,” who smiled, “doesn’t want to hear it.”

His eyes darted from Emily to his wife and back several times. Then, he looked at Jordan and Kira and then Stef, who just smiled. Jared held up his hands in confusion. “Jesus…it’s…”

Stef smiled, “Isn’t it though?”

“So, how about that drink now? Champagne?”

Stef looked at Jared, who looked at the bottom shelf, “This should still be good. I got it at Christmas from a client.” Emily retreated to the bedroom door, where she stood against the frame. He took out seven glasses.

“There’s only six of us,” Laura said sweetly.

“For god’s sake, ma,” Jordan grumbled, to a ‘stay out of this, champ,’ from their father.

Jared looked at Stef, who mouthed ‘seven’ like a curse, and poured seven glasses. He handed one to everyone, getting a beseeching ‘please don’t’ look from his future father-in-law and an eyebrow from Kira. Jared held up his glass, “Happy birthday to the love of my life.”

“The Bears?” Jordan joked.

Doug smiled, “Never love anything that will always break your heart,” and he went to take a sip.

Stef interjected, “Hold on. And to all of us being together.”

Laura looked surprised. “We saw each other at Thanksgiving. I know it wasn’t ideal,” and she looked at Jordan and Doug, “but it was only a few months ago.” Emily took a big sip and shook her head.

“Mom, you can pretend all you want,” Stef said, “but enough’s enough. Say something.”

She smiled and looked at Emily, “And you are?”

Emily momentarily looked like she was punched, then held her butterfly necklace and took a deep breath. You, she decided, are someone seeing a school bully for the first time since graduation. She stuck out her hand, “Emily Berrigan,” which got a glare. “And you are?” The air left the room.

“Enough,” Stef snapped. “This is my birthday.”

“I guess I got the surprise,” her mother smiled. “Christopher.”

Kira and Jared looked down, as Jordan said, “Emily. Her name is Emily. She told you that. Stef told you that.”

“I am aware of the name he uses. You’ll excuse me if it takes me a while to,” and she stripped Emily bare with a glance, “adjust.”

Stef opened her mouth and Emily held up her hand. “Emily. My name is Emily. It has been Emily for the past six years. I changed it legally.”

From by the window, where he was staring out, Doug said, “Rob told me, but damn…”

“I know,” Stef said, “kinda amazing, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about and don’t care to,” Laura said. A look came over her face and she turned to Kira, “So your last semester. That’s exciting.”

Kira smiled, “It’s scary. I’ve been interviewing places. I have an interview at the Center for Performing Arts in two weeks.”

“That's terrific. Production or finance?”

Kira smiled, “Production, I guess. A lot of what they bring in is touring companies so there's not a ton of acting but it's a chance to get to know people I think.” Then, she smiled, “I'm hoping Em can introduce me to people too, since she's actually working.”

Laura's face fell impassive, “It's good to have a network of people. Apparently, that's what Doug’s brother Rob did and it seems to be working mostly.” Emily looked over at her father, who made no eye contact. “And Jared, what's new? How's work?”

“It's busy. I'm headed to London for a meeting in two weeks.”

Kira smiled, “I assume you've been before, right?”

Jared gave a sly grin, “A few. Twice for business, and then twice with the fam. Stef’s going to come next time if they let her out of her cell,” and he walked over and put his arm around her waist.

Doug looked at the room, then walked over, looking at Emily for a second. He picked up a piece of cracker and cheese from a plate and chewed. “Hey, champ, how's work?”

Jordan looked at him. “Good. The conduits are totally in and we’ve started on some interior stuff. Assuming no issues, Q2 2025.”

“They start discussing what happens next?”

“They put me on a new project, I guess.” They took a piece of meat from the plate and wondered when charcuterie became a common term.

“You guess or you know?”

Jordan looked at Stef, then Em. “We've been through this, dad. I'm on salary, not contract. They will move me to a different project but it's a year off.”

“A year comes fast, faster than you think. Be ready.”

Stef came over. “They're ready. Right, champ?”

Jordan rolled their eyes, “Shut up.”

Doug laughed, “Give me the courtesy of making fun of me behind my back, not to my face.”

Stef said, “Em, tell us about the movie.”

She had told them about the movie at dinner Thursday, but smiled. “Right, k. Anyway, it's about this single mom with her three kids, and we see the older daughter repeating her mother's mistakes with guys and stuff.”

Laura got up from the couch and pointedly walked to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator, “do you have any wine open?”

“Emmy,” and Laura winced, “was talking.”

“Hmmm. The champagne isn't agreeing with me. Is anyone else having that problem?”

Em shook her head, started to retreat into the bedroom but took three steps out. “Anyway, I play the middle daughter. Cheerleader, straight A student, real overachiever.”

Stef walked over and took Em’s hand. “I don't know how she prepared for it.” Doug gave a small laugh.

Emily gripped her hand, “I know, right? I mean, I had to use my imagination for this one.”

Stef looked at her mom. “I sent Em all of my old cheer stuff. That's why I took it that time. So she could get in character.”

Em saw her mother's nostrils flare and the veins on her neck pulse, and she continued, “Anyway, it's really interesting and it's a great way to learn screen acting…”

From the window, her father spoke, “Do you make money at it?”

Emily was shocked that he said anything, “Not much. It's an indie but if it makes a festival and gets picked up by a distributor, it can lead to bigger things. Jennifer Lawrence did a small movie, Winter’s Bone, and won an Oscar two years later.”

“Huh,” and he turned back.

“I mean, it's not likely…”

Stef looked at her, “You never know.”

“Have you made any progress on finding a place yet?” Em watched as the level of the wine glass went higher as Laura poured.

“We looked at the botanic garden yesterday,” Stef said.

“Are you sure you want outdoors?”

“It's not totally outdoors. You have it in the glassed-in arboretum. It's really nice, we went there for a work thing.”

“What did you think, Jared?”

Jared took a sip of his champagne. “It's nice.”

Laura laughed, “That's all?”

“Moji and Stef did most of the talking. I stood there.”

Doug laughed, “You're finally listening. You have no opinions. She has enough for the two of you.”

“Daaaad,” Stef laughed.

Laura looked confused, “Is Moji a friend of yours? A planner? I've never heard of her.”

Jordan looked up. “Moji is Ems, Emily. Jared says she's like a human emoji, all happy, and keeps trying,” and they looked at Jared, “and failing to get us to call her that.”

“You don't mind, do you Moji?”

Emily walked over to him and touched his arm, glancing at Laura. “It's cool. I like that you gave me a nickname.”

The acid poured out. “Isn't that nice? Christopher is the human emoji.”

Emily walked over, “My name is Emily.”

She looked her up and down. “Oh. It doesn't matter. You're Moji, apparently.”

Everyone watched as the two women eyed each other, twins separated by 30 years and 2,000 miles. Each stood with her right foot slightly back, waiting for the other to speak. Emily smiled then shrugged then picked up a piece of salami and put it on a cracker. “How's work?”

“Are you talking to me?” Her mother asked.

“Yes. We haven't seen each other in six years. I figured I'd start with something easy.”

“It's fine.”

“Are you still working for Mr. Harris?”

“Yes.”

“That's great. He was always really nice. Say hi for me.”

Laura went to say something, then stopped, looking around the room. “I'm sure he'll appreciate that.”

“Emily works for a law firm too,” Jordan said.

“Good for him,” her mother said, to a hissed ‘mom’ from Stephanie, which got, “what did I say that warranted that?”

“Do you want to see what we were thinking of for dresses, mom?”

She formed an N with her mouth, then said, “ohh, we don't want to waste everyone's time with that…”

Her husband said, “Since when?” Jared, Jordan and Kira laughed.

“Another time. When is the dinner reservation again?”

Stef looked at her phone, “Half an hour.”

“Why don't we get a head start?”

Jared looked at her, “it's like a ten minute walk.”

“Maybe they'll seat us early.”

Emily looked at her father, who looked away. Fine, she thought. I haven't seen you for six years, I didn't want to see you again. Jordan looked at her and shook their head. Kira just mouthed, ‘sorry.’

—
Ten minutes later, they left. As they were leaving the apartment, Doug pulled Stephanie back and mouthed, ‘why?’ ‘What,’ she silently mouthed with a smile. His reproachful glare was met with, ‘Jared flew them in as a surprise.’

“I'm going to use the facilities,” he announced. “All of you go ahead. I'll meet you.”

Stef looked at him, then said, “You don't know where it is. I'll come with you.” Jared looked at her and then gave a quick nod.

Everyone left, Emily looking alternately angry and worried as she put on her jacket and picked up her purse to her mother's disgust. The door clicked shut and they stood in a minute of absolute silence. “What the hell were you thinking, Stephanie?”

“I told you, I didn't know they were coming. Jared decided to surprise me.”

He looked at her and jammed his hands in his pockets, “But you knew we were. When did they all show up?”

“Thursday.”

“Your mom confirmed Friday.”

Stef looked up. “I think it was earlier.”

“It was Friday. Her text interrupted a meeting with your grandfather, who made sure to tell me that you should've come to us.”

“Sorry,” then, “you were going to have to see her sometime. Would you rather it have been the wedding?”

He glared at her, “You sandbagged me.”

“I didn't sandbag anyone. I didn't realize I had to clear guest lists with you or anyone else.”

“Stephanie, come off it. This is not a guest list.”

“Either way, it's not her decision who comes or doesn't. Or yours, for that matter.”

He looked at her. “I know you think I'm an idiot…”

In a deliberately patronizing voice, the one that defused every argument since she was 13, “No, I don't.”

Maybe not every argument. “Stef.”

“Sorry. I knew that if I said something, she wouldn't come and it's not like Emmy,” and he grimaced slightly, “lives here.”

“I,” he said sharply, “would've liked some warning.”

She smiled, “Which you would've done what with?”

He sighed, “I don't know, but this is going to be a shit storm bigger than Thanksgiving.”

“You really think she'll make a scene? In public?”

He paused in thought. “I really don’t want to find out.”

“I'm sorry, daddy. You know I try and stop her…”

“Stef, I don't need you to stop her… usually, but come on. This is beyond…”

“I told you. She's really great and really happy and I know you don't like…”

He held up his hand. “Stef, don't try to change the subject. We need to catch up with them but this is not over, not by a long shot. I'm extremely pissed, no, I'm disappointed with you. This is not ok.”

She looked down. “I don't mean to hurt you, you know that.”

He zipped up his jacket and held the door open for her.
—

Emily Berrigan is a 23 year old transwoman, who hasn't seen her twin Jordan in six years. Not since she told her parents the truth about herself and they threw her out. Her older sister is getting married and wants Emily there - as a bridesmaid. Will sparks fly?
----
Emily finally confronts her mother and doesn't believe what she hears.

---
It was three months after the debacle of Stef's birthday. Emily could still taste the protein bar she had choked down late that night, when her nausea finally abated.

She was eating lunch with Claire, her friend from the support group, really her mentor, in WeHo. “I dunno,” Emily said, in response to Claire’s suggestion that she call her mother. “How can I forgive her?”

Claire gave her a stern look. “This is not about forgiveness, Emily. This is about Stef. If you want her day to be perfect, you need to take care of this.”

“What's there to talk about?”

“Have you ever asked her what she thought when you told her?”

Emily tore apart a roll into little pieces. “She kinda made it clear.”

Claire smiled. “You're an actress. Don't you create back stories or something for characters?”

Now, she was tearing the little pieces into even smaller pieces. “She's not a character. She's my mother. She threw me out.”

Claire swallowed her lips and then exhaled her through her teeth. “You know how much I love you, Emmy…”

Take a deep breath, Emily. She is not her. She loves you, and has been there with you since the beginning. If she's using that tone, there's a reason. There has to be.

Claire continued, “It took me a long, long time to come to terms with this,” Claire's mother only recently having accepted this was not ‘a phase.’ “I realized that they go through a grieving process…”

Emily counted to five. She is your friend. You stand on her shoulders. She crawled so you could run and all that. “Grieve? What is there to grieve? I'm so much happier now.”

Claire laughed, “I know you are, but I think when you're a parent, you have hopes, expectations about things. You have a son, then she announces she's your daughter. It's a lot to process, it's grieving what you thought was going to be your life, their life. She was still absolutely wrong for throwing you out and cutting you off but then you showed up at dinner and it was all upended again.”

Emily played with her hair. “What does that have to do with me talking to her?”

“I don't know. I guess I'm just thinking about it, since I did it. It made my life a lot better. I think it made her realize that I knew that she was a person just like I was, and I think that went a long way…”

“I’m afraid.”

Claire took her hand and looked at her. “You need to do this.”

—
It was the end of their weekly phone call, when Emily asked her father for her mother's number, her mother having changed it after she threw her out.

He gave it to her and then said, “Why?”

She looked at the traffic ahead, Pico a mess. “Why what?”

Her father laughed. “Why do you want it?”

I'm a glutton for punishment, she thought. “She and I need to talk, it's time.”

“You're not going to start a fight, are you?”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Your sister said the same thing.”

“And did they fight? No? Then maybe ask yourself why you keep asking.”

He laughed, “You're the nice one, remember?”

“I'm not gonna start a fight, I promise. I just, I dunno, we shouldn't leave this until the wedding. I think we’ve talked at each other enough, maybe we can try talking to each other.”

She heard her father breathe and then say, “You really think you can stay calm?”

Emily took a breath, “What does that mean?”

He laughed, “We were all at the same dinner. I heard her.”

“Yeah, well, I feel like we haven’t actually had a conversation in six years. I wanna try. Even if it fails, at least I’ll know I tried.”

“Emily, I’m behind you one hundred percent in trying, I really am, but, and you better not repeat this, you seem like you’re doing well and I don’t want her to hurt you again.”

Emily felt herself tearing up. “Thanks, but I kinda need to do this and not just for Stef and Jared’s sake.”

—
A week later, she was at work when her phone pinged. ‘I hear you want to talk to me.’

That’s why I left the message, bitch. No, don’t think ‘bitch,’ this is a conversation, with actual back and forth. ‘Yeah, I do. I think we need to.’

Three dots. Stop. Three dots. Stop. Three dots and then, ‘I agree. Are we doing this by phone or Teams?’

Huh? Teams? Does she think this is a work call? ‘You know you texted Emily, right?’

‘I know. Do you want this face to face or just a call? I think face to face is better.’

Emily felt her pulse rise. ‘OK. Sure,’ and they set a time later that night.

—
Emily sat cross-legged on her bed, her computer on her lap. She looked at herself on screen and moved the computer to her laptop desk, so that she didn’t have the double chin that shooting from below gave everyone. She turned to Marissa, “I look OK, right?” She was in the “UCLA Sister” t-shirt Liam had sent her and shorts, having rejected the camisole she had worn to work and her vintage boho top that looked really cute.

Marissa laughed, “For the fourth time, yes. Besides, it’s her and you don’t have to impress her.”

“Yeah, I know. Why am I nervous?”

Marissa shrugged. “I dunno but you shouldn’t be. What else can she do to you that she hasn’t already done?”

Emily pulled on a lock of her hair until Marissa grabbed her hand. “I know. I just…”

Marissa gave her a hug. “I’ll be in the other room, you know that.”

Emily hugged back. “You’re the best.”

She smiled, “I am,” and then she left the room.

Emily logged on to Teams and waited, half-expecting her mother not to show. Then, her mother popped up on screen. Emily studied her, her face was fuller and the hair clearly colored, her roots starting to peek out, but it was there. What everyone said about them was true. In her mother’s blank stare, she could see the wheels turning in her head. “Hello,” was all Emily could come up with.

“Hello.” Was her mother nervous or annoyed that she had to do this? She could see a vein in her neck throbbing. “How are you?”

“Good. I’m good. How’s everything,” and she almost said, ‘back home,’ but this was home, “there?”

“Good. It’s warming up finally.”

“That’s good. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about the wedding and everything.”

Her mother looked at the ceiling, then at her. “I think I’ve made my position clear, as have you.”

Crystal clear. I could see for miles around after that dinner. No, be calm, Emily. You’re here to listen, not lecture. “Can we start with the fact that we both want Stef’s day to be perfect?”

Her mother breathed in and out three times. “I think we disagree on how to accomplish that.”

Emily took a deep breath. “Yeah, probably, but we can agree that we want it to be perfect, right? For Stef?”

Her mother laughed, “What about Jared?”

Emily allowed herself a small laugh. “I think he’s taken care of,” then, seriously, “Anyway, Stef.”

“Of course, we both want it to be perfect. So, now what?”

“I dunno. I’m going to be there. I’ll do my best to keep away from you. I mean, we’ll probably be in pictures together but, even then, I’ll try to be on the other side of Stef.”

She heard a sigh. “That’s not why I don’t want you there. Well, not anymore.”

Emily stared at her mother, who looked down then at the ceiling and then at her. “Then why don’t you want me there?”

“I’m afraid for you.”

What? “Bull. What are you so afraid of?” Emily looked at the wall, and then back at the screen.

“I’m afraid that they will hurt you.”

It took her a second, and then it hit her. “You really think they’d do that at a wedding? In front of everyone?”

Her mother gave a brittle laugh. “Because that stopped them so well at holidays.”

Emily felt a chill and then her skin crawled. “Yeah, well, Jackie and them are going to be there and Jared’s family, you don’t think that’ll stop them?”

Her mother stared at her. “Do you think it will? When have they ever behaved like civilized people?”

“I…”

“There you are, in your bridesmaid dress and heels. Do you think you’re going to be able to fight them? Stef? Jordan?”

“They’d get arrested.”

“And what does that do for you, lying in the hospital? I'm actually trying to protect you.”

“I…I can’t not be there for Stef and Jared. They’re my family.”

“I know. But you and your sister, you can't control the world, despite your best efforts.”

Emily started to cry. “I hate this. I hate this, I hate this, I hate this. I hate this, I hate you, I hate this.”

She heard her mother sniffle. “So do I, Emily. I would much rather you be there than them, believe me…”

Emily sniffled, “You’d rather anyone there than them.”

“Look at me, Emily. I’m not joking. You should be there, not them, but I can’t not invite them, I can’t do that to your father. This is his last day with his little girl.”

Emily laughed, “Have you told that to Stef? That she’s his little girl?”

Her mother smiled, “Despite what she thinks, I’m not that stupid.”

“So the choice is them or me, and you’re choosing them over me again?”

She saw her mother’s chest rise and fall. “I never chose them over you. I chose your life over your death.”

“Come on. You really expect me to believe that?” Emily stared at her picture of Joshua Tree, the one from the craft fair.

“Whether you believe that, it’s true. Do you remember the football games? All those times in the basement at Kev and Julie’s? I sure do. And you know what’s worse? If I ever went to help you, told them to tell their animals to stop, those bitches would say, ‘you baby him,’ ‘he needs to be a man,’ ‘you’re making him gay.”

“Well, anyway, that’s all bullshit. Excuse me, but it is. Because, when I came back six years later, a grown woman who put herself through college and who supports herself and they weren’t even there, you mocked me and deadnamed me, just like you did on the call when Jeannie was here.”

She could see a tear in her mother’s eyes. “I don’t know why I did that. I think I saw you and everything that they ever said about you had come true. You were me and I couldn’t deal.”

“I heard you laughing as I ran out. People were looking at you.”

“Emily, I don’t know what to say here. I don’t know why I do things sometimes.”

“Because you’re a bitch. You’re a TERF bitch. Well, anyway, again, I guess I’ll see you at the wedding. So, anyway….”

“Emily, please don’t hang up.”

“Why shouldn’t I? Would you stay on if your mother did to you what you did to me?”

“Probably, but I’m an idiot that way.”

So am I, Emily thought as she moved the cursor away from the disconnect icon.

“Look, I was upset that your sister decided to surprise me in front of everyone, but that’s no excuse for what I did. I apologize.”

“Uh huh.”

“And I am truly happy for you, at what you’ve become…don’t roll your eyes, I’m serious. From what Jeannie tells me, in between calling me an idiot and ungrateful, you’re really happy. Are you?”

Emily looked at her closet, at the white summer dress, knee length with a v neck, and smiled, “Most of the time, yeah. I mean I have bad days and stuff.”

Her mother smiled, “No one is happy all the time, not without medication.”

“Uh huh.” She remembered her discussion with Claire, “You really hurt me. Maybe I could accept you telling me to move away, maybe, but that didn’t mean you had to cut off all communication and tell everyone else not to talk to me. Do you know how lonely I was here?”

Her mother was tearing up. “I was wrong. I should never have thrown you out.”

“Not that. I got over that, I had to, I had no choice but to” she lied, as she saw her mother’s face fall slightly. “I mean, at dinner. You really hurt me and it wasn’t just the deadnaming and pronouns and stuff, it was everything, Duncan, everything.”

Her mother wiped away a tear. “My therapist asked me what I was thinking.” Therapist? Emily expected a Bigfoot to walk through the room. Her mother smiled, “That is not for public consumption, I don’t need the hassles from Steffie, but yes, I am seeing a therapist.”

“Good, that’s good. I hope he or she helps you.”

“She...and yes, she does. She’s made me realize that I have two children who want nothing to do with me, and a third who’s on the fence, and that I have no one to blame but myself for that.”

“Yeah, well, anyway, where does that leave us with the wedding and stuff?”

“Emily, I really don’t know what to do.”

“I do. I’m coming and I’m going to be a bridesmaid and whatever happens, happens. I can’t let a bunch of mouth breathing assholes, excuse me,” and she saw her mother smile, “rule my life. I’d rather die on my feet, then live on my knees.”

Her mother laughed. “Is Jordan standing behind you feeding you things to say?”

Emily glared, “I’m serious. I couldn’t live with myself if I wasn’t there because of them. That would just prove them right. I’m too afraid to face them and all that garbage.”

“What if? What if I’m right about them?” Emily shrugged. “You really want to end up in the hospital?”

“Obviously, no.”

“Then what do you plan to do?”

“I’ll always make sure I’m with someone. If I’m with someone, they won’t do anything.”

Her mother gave a brittle laugh. “Again, that stopped them at holidays…”

“They’re older now?”

“That they are. They’re still the same, just bigger and meaner. So what?”

Emily started to speak, and then paused, and started again, and paused. Then she remembered, and pulled her pepper spray out of her bag. “I’ll carry this.”

Her mother laughed, “As much as I would like to see that, and as much as Jared’s aunt would really like to see that, I’m not sure that’s a solution.” Emily shrugged and her mother shrugged back. “Believe it or not, your father has said that he will not let anything happen to you.”

“I believe that. He and I have been talking, y’know.”

“I know. I’m happy. He seems happy too.”

“Really?” Even all these weeks later, she still couldn’t trust him.

“Yes, really. Is he confused? Yes. Does he understand? Not fully. Is what you did maybe his worst nightmare,” and she laughed, “yes. But he’s happy and said that he’s happy you’re happy.”

“Huh.”

“And you? You don’t feel the same way.”

“I’ve been working on it.”

“But you don't.”

“Do you want to know what I was thinking the first time I saw you?”

“I was gonna ask you that, well not that, exactly.”

“What did you want to ask me?”

Emily breathed in and out three times. “What did you think, no feel, when I told you I was a girl?”

Her mother looked up. “This is not happening.”

Emily felt her blood pressure rise. “I think it’s a reasonable question.”

“You asked me what I felt. That’s what I felt. My son, my beautiful, sweet boy is not here telling me he’s a girl. This cannot be happening. He is not telling me he wants to take hormones and become a girl.”

“I am a girl.”

“Again, you asked me. In the moment, you don’t actually think about becoming versus is. You just feel a knot in your stomach, fear, abject fear. I got my greatest wish and my worst nightmare all at once.”

“I don't understand.”

“When they told me I was pregnant with twins, with a boy and a girl, I was over the moon. Your dad would have his son and I’d have another little girl. We, you, Steffie and I, would do fun stuff like go to the ballet and bake cookies together, and dad and Jordan would go fishing and work on the truck. Everything would be perfect and then you were you and Molly was Molly…”

The deadname clanged in her ear. “Jordan and I are great.”

“Sorry, I know you are. And I know their name is Jordan. I used to go to sleep every night praying that you’d wake up you, and Jordan Jordan, but the world doesn’t work that way unfortunately. When you told me, I knew that it wouldn't make a difference because of them.”

“I am so lost.”

“Them. The Nehlens. As soon as they found out, we’d all be in for a world of trouble.”

“They're mouth breathing assholes.”

“They are, but that doesn't change reality.”

“Why does he put up with them? Why do you?”

Her mother gave another brittle laugh. “Because my job won’t, couldn’t, never would keep a roof over our heads. I hate that we need them, but we do and we used to need them a lot more. That’s why.”

“So, that’s why you cut me off? You sacrificed me for them? For a job?” Emily felt her blood pressure rise and did some breathing exercises.

“I could see how you could see it that way…”

“You could see how I could see it that way?” Breathe, Emily, breathe.

Her mother turned pale. “I mean, I understand why you do. But I really did it because I didn’t want you to get hurt. But, I don’t imagine after six years that you’d believe that and you’re probably right.”

Emily felt herself tear up. “I didn’t choose this, y’know. I know you think I did, but I didn’t.”

“I know,” and she saw her mother wipe her eyes, “When I saw you at the dinner, doing your pitch and giggling with Kira, I realized, well maybe after several sessions with Jennifer, she’s my therapist, that you were never Christopher. Chris was a role, and this is the real you.”

“It is. Long before I knew anything, I knew I was a girl.”

Her mother smiled. ““I’m going to tell you a story. You were probably two or so, and we were in that children’s store, you know the one, and you pointed at a velvet Christmas dress and said, ‘I want,’ and I held it up to you and you grinned from ear to ear and…my heart broke. I almost let you try it on but I was afraid that you or Steffie would tell your father. But, my heart broke that you couldn’t have it, you were meant to have it. And I hated that the universe or whatever screwed up and made you you and Jordan Jordan, instead of the other way around.”

“Jordan’s really happy, y’know.”

“I know. And I’m glad you three get along so well. I wish I had taken bets on it when you were kids, we wouldn’t need them anymore, but despite our best efforts, you three seem really happy. In between yelling at me, your sister sent me a picture of the three of you at dinner that Thursday and you really look like you love each other.”

“We do.”

“And when I showed that picture to Jennifer, she asked me why I couldn’t accept three happy children who love each other. She asked if I thought they loved each other.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “That’d be a no.”

Her mother laughed. “I thought you were the nice one,” she teased.

Emily allowed herself to laugh. “There are exceptions to every rule,” and then she got serious. “But when you had the chance to accept me, you didn’t. You told me to get out and never come back. And then you did it again. And again.”

“Emily, again, I apologize. I don’t blame you if you don’t want to hear it, but I mean it. I’m jealous that Jeannie gets my daughter, and that she deserves to get you.”

“I don’t want it to be a competition. I never did.”

Now, her mother looked confused. “What?”

Emily started to tear up, everything she had spent six years getting over breaching her defenses. She sobbed, “All I ever wanted was to be loved by you, the real me. You used to love me and when you stopped, it really killed me. When I got out here and I was all by myself, I cried. And when my first boyfriend broke up with me, and I got my first job, and when my roommate’s mom came to visit, it killed me. I needed you. I had Stef and Jordan and my friends, and they’re all great but they’re not you, they’re not my mother and I knew that I would never have a mother again, that the woman I thought loved me unconditionally, didn’t. And I learned to deal, but I never got over it. And now you’re here telling me again that I’m not your daughter, that I’m Jeannie’s, and I love Jeannie and Rob more than anything, and I should probably never have made this call and…”

Through eyes blurred with tears, she saw her mother crying, then hitting herself in the head. “I messed, no I fucked up, bad. I really and truly fucked up. I get my heart back and I keep fucking it up.”

“Huh?”

Her mother cried, and then wiped her eyes. “Emily, you were me. Stef came out of the womb telling me what to do. Jordan is your father. You were me. You were a people pleaser, you just wanted everyone to be happy and then this family shit all over you and I let them, and now you call me, and I thank you for that, I didn’t have the guts, I keep saying one stupid thing after another. But I never stopped loving you. I was angry, I was hurt, I was, and I’m ashamed to say this, worried about what everyone would say, and I hated that you had to leave, that I made you leave, but you were always my sweet one, my silly one, and even if you rightfully tell me to go to hell now, you’re always going to be that.”

“I am so lost right now,” Emily said.

“Emily, I don’t think you realize how much Jeannie has been beating me up. Stef too, but that’s nothing new, but Jeannie has told me how wonderful you are, how she’s not worried anymore about Liam being across the country, because his big sister will be there. And everything you've done for her with everything with Robbie…”

“I can't even imagine…”

“Don't try. And she told me about the day you spent walking around Westwood and I was jealous…”

“You know that’s all I ever wanted, right?”

“Huh?”

“Whenever you and Stef and Jackie and them would go shopping downtown, all I ever wanted to do was come with you. You’d come back laughing and sharing inside jokes, and I knew that I was supposed to be there, not at some hockey game or whatever. That I was supposed to be with you, not in some foreign country where I’d never speak the language. So, when I got to do it with Jeannie, it was amazing. I was finally where I was supposed to be.”

“Wow. I wish you could’ve been with us. I know Jordan did.” Emily sat there, unsure what to say, and her mother continued, “And Rob, don’t get me started on Rob, he thinks you walk on water.” Emily grinned, remembering their dinner last month. “And you know what he told me and your father? ‘After everything you did to her, she could’ve become bitter or angry. And she isn’t. She is the sweetest person I’ve ever met. And everyone loves her. Except you two idiots.’”

“Wow,” Emily said. “I, just, wow,” and she felt a warm feeling suffuse her.

“Emily, I don’t expect you to trust us. God knows, I wouldn’t. But I’d like to end the war.”

Emily looked at her. “What about all the horrible stuff you said to me when Jeannie was here? You know biology and pathetic and all of that? What are you trying to tell me? You never believed that? Sorry but no.”

“I was wrong. I was cruel and nasty and just plain wrong.”

“But it's what you believe. You were pretty clear, crystal clear actually.”

“It's not what I believe. Not anymore, I'm not sure that I ever really did, but I don't now certainly.”

She studied her mother. She considered herself a good actress, someone who could see the lie in someone's eyes, and she was coming up blank. Is she telling the truth, she wondered, or am I just a pathetic loser? “So why did you say it?”

“Jennifer says when I get scared or surprised, I lash out.” She didn't break eye contact.

Emily took a deep breath, started to speak, then took another deep breath. Don't just speak, that's what she does, think first. “Don't tell me what she thinks. Tell me why you did it, why you were laughing when you made me cry. Why you always laugh when you hurt me the worst.” Her mother took a deep breath and sat there, unblinking and silent. “Well? I knew you were lying.” Well, at least, I tried, she thought.

“If I made everyone hate me, I wouldn't have to hate myself so much.”

“What?”

“If everyone saw me as a horrible mother, a total bitch, I could blame them instead of putting the blame where it belongs.”

Emily sneered, “More Jennifer?”

“I deserve that. No, I realized it in the car last week, on the way home from J…my appointment. And I knew it when I talked about lashing out, but I was afraid that if I told you that I was terrible, you'd hang up for good,” and she started crying.

Do not buy into this, she's faking. You'll fall for it and then she'll laugh in your face again and you can't deal with that again. Well, you can but you don't want to, shouldn't have to, Em told herself. She watched her cry into her hands for a couple of minutes, not sure why she didn't hang up. If this was closure, why did she feel like such shit?

Her mother stopped, then looked up, eyes bright red. “Emily, you don't have to keep away from me. I promise I'll keep away from you. You've been a great sister, a great niece and I'm sure you'd be a great daughter to parents who deserve you. I want to end the war but realize that you can't start a war and then decide when to end it and asking you was absolutely unacceptable.”

Emily sighed, kicking herself, “I can’t make any promises, but I’ll try.”

Her mother smiled weakly, “That’s all we can ask.”

“You know, this doesn’t change the fact that I’m going to be at the wedding - as a bridesmaid.’

Her mother smiled. “You’re her baby sister. Of course, you’re a bridesmaid. Do I think she’s being irrational about not having Stacy and Mia, that’s it’s not tacky?”

Emily laughed a little, “Don’t even try to involve me in that.”

Her mother laughed, “Good, your sister’s your sister for life. Always remember that.”

“How’s Jackie?” Not that she cared.

“She told me not to fuck up this call. Am I fucking up?”

Emily gave a small grin. “So far, no.”

Her mother laughed again. “I guess this is a consequence of letting you spend so much time with Stef.”

Emily got serious. “I mean, I’m willing to try, really willing, but there are rules. First, I’m a girl, I mean, a woman.”

Her mother laughed. “That’s rather obvious.”

“And my name is Emily.”

“That’s a great name. It suits you. Why Emily?”

“I just liked it.”

Her mother said, “I like it, too. It’s a sunny name. Do you have a middle name?”

“Claire.” Her mother made a face. “You and Uncle Rob! What do you have against Claire?”

“Molly Ringwald’s character in the Breakfast Club was Claire and she was horrible. Also, that girl he dated was draining.”

“Well, anyway, that’s my name. Emily Claire Berrigan.”

“Berrigan?” Her mother looked confused.

“Uh huh, Berrigan.”

“How did you choose that?”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. Where did that come from?”

“You really don’t know?”

“Of course I don’t know, otherwise why would I keep on asking?”

“I was in like third grade and we had to do a genealogy project, remember? Anyway, I went to Grandma Linda, who told me about her great-great-great or maybe it was four greats grandmother, Mary Berrigan, who came here alone when she was fifteen and worked as a maid and made this whole life for herself on her own and I always thought that was really amazing,” and she saw her mother start crying, “what?”

Her mother wiped her eyes. “I bet she’d be proud of you.”

Emily looked down, “I hope so.”

Her mother smiled. “Enough of that, Stef told me you looked at bridesmaids’ dresses.”

“You really want to hear about this? Really?” Her mother rolled her hand in the air. “Anyway, I know I don’t want floor length, I wore it in a play once and it made me look really short,” which got a smile. “Anyway, I saw this pale green tea length dress, sleeveless with a sweetheart neckline and I really want that…”

Her mother kept smiling. “That would be perfect for you, but that’s not a great color for Jamie and Arden’s self-conscious about her arms, something to do with her mother. Anyway, you’ll find something that works for all of you or more likely none of you really. What does Stef think?”

“She said we could decide.” Her mother went ‘pfft,’ and she said, “What? She really said that!”

“When has Stef ever let anyone make a decision that she disagreed with?”

“Hey! She’s been amazing to me!”

“I know she has. It’s her job. Anyway, what did you think of the Botanic Garden?”

“I really liked it. All the flowers and plants and light, it felt really happy and hopeful. And that’s what a wedding should be. Happy and hopeful and full of love.”

“Oh god, I’ve missed your sunshine. That’s what my grandma used to call you, her little sunshine. You probably don’t remember her, she died when you were three, but she would poke you in the belly and you would giggle and giggle, and she called you her ‘little sunshine.’” Then, she took a breath, “What did Jared have to say?”

“He liked it.”

“Was he given a choice?”

Emily smiled, “I think so?”

“Like a North Korean election. Still, I’d like to see it before the wedding…”

Emily laughed, “Still not getting involved.”

“Coward,” her mother laughed.

“You call me a coward, I call me smart.”

“Can I ask you something, if it’s not too weird?”

Emily took a breath, “Oh boy.”

“Can I ask you to back up, so I can really see you?”

“Huh?”

“I want to see my daughter.”

“Ummm, k.” She got up and took a few steps back. “Does that work for you?”

She saw her mother stare. “Wow.”

“What?”

“I didn’t realize it but…”

Emily smiled. “Yeah, I’ve heard it too.”

“I mean Mia is Jackie, but…wow. I really screwed up, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but if we’re going to try and get past this, you need to stop saying that. If it’s gonna work, it will and if it’s not, it won’t, but we need to start fresh. Both of us.”

“Agreed. You really are a beautiful young woman.”

Emily felt herself turn red. “OK, stop.”

“Can I ask a personal question?”

Emily took a breath and sighed. “I reserve the right not to answer.”

“So I was reading online and they said that most trans women don’t usually get bigger than an AA cup without implants and you look…”

Emily felt herself turn purple. “Oh god. I cannot believe I’m having this conversation with you…”

“I’ll stop.”

“No, god knows my roommate’s mom asks her stuff and I need…well, anyway, I’m a full B cup usually, once in a while C, but usually B. And to stop the next question, these are mine, as are my hips and butt. My doctor said it’s a combination of the fact that I started hormones young, that I had low levels of testosterone and above average levels of estrogen, genetics,” and her mother smiled, “and dumb luck. And that is the last time we’re discussing this, understood?”

Her mother began laughing. “Well, there’s one rite of passage out of the way. Your mother asking you embarrassing questions about your body. Grandma Linda gave me a lecture about birth control after my first boyfriend and it involved her and Grandpa Frank,” and Emily winced. “Exactly! I thought, ‘don’t worry, I’d be too humiliated to have sex now.’”

“We are not having that discussion. Just in case you were wondering.” Her mother laughed. “I have to tell you, what you said about Duncan really, really hurt me. It was like everything I’ve ever thought was in the back of every boyfriend’s mind came to life.”

“I was an absolute bitch. I am sorry. Stef told me he was your first love and I pulled that.” Emily sighed and shrugged. “When my first boyfriend broke up with me, Grandma said, ‘you can’t have rainbows without rain.’”

Emily laughed. “Stef told me that. No offense, it’s kinda stupid.”

“It’s not kinda anything, it's stupid. I told it to her out of tradition. Plus it distracts you,” she laughed. “I don't expect anything to quickly change much, but I really do want to try. So does your father.”

“I can try. I wanna try. I really do.”

“Me too. I really am just worried about them, for you.”

“I told you that I’m coming no matter what.”

“I know you are. I wouldn’t let you not come.”

“So why do you keep talking about it?” Each woman twirled a lock of hair around her right index finger.

“Because I’m afraid. And I can’t say anything to your father, because, well, you get it. And I’m not about to have this discussion with your sister. She’s been very clear about her feelings.”

Emily laughed, “Stef? No!”

“You really are me,” she laughed. “Mostly nice, but…what’s that behind you?”

Emily turned around. “Huh?”

“The dress on the door. It’s cute.”

“The white one? Or the green one?”

“The white one. Can I see it on you?”

“Huh?”

“I want to see it, on you. Can I or is that too weird?” No weirder than the rest of this. Emily shrugged, turned off her camera, put on the dress, and turned it back on. “You look gorgeous.”

“Umm, thanks. You don’t have to keep complimenting me.”

“If I didn’t like it, you’d know,” she laughed. “But I love it. It is so you. Stef couldn’t pull it off. It’s too sweet for her.”

“Ouch!”

“I love your sister more than life itself, but she’s not exactly…”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Do you have white sandals? Kitten heels?”

“Um, yeah. That’s what I was going to wear.”

Her mother sighed. “It’s like looking in a mirror, a thirty year old mirror.” Emily shrugged. “I know, it happens. Tell me about your roommate. Jeannie says she’s wonderful.”

“Marissa. She is. We’ve lived together since sophomore year. She's in the other room.”

“So she’s your Arden?”

“Huh,” she smiled, “I guess so. I never really thought about it like that, but yeah.”

“What about being an actress?”

Emily shrugged, “What about it?”

“What’s it like?”

“I mean, I dunno. It’s a lot of rejection but I kinda like it.”

“I watched the commercial, we both did. You were very good.”

“Thanks. I waited tables for six years.”

Her mother smiled, “Is that what they call method acting?”

Emily almost laughed. “I had to support myself somehow.”

Her mother looked at her. “At least you got tips.”

“Huh?”

She smiled, “Four years, I worked at Burger King. Itchy polyester uniform, cleaning bathrooms, smelling like grease when you get home. All for $3.35 an hour, a whole $3.75 when I got a raise after six months. So spare me your sob stories.”

“Yeah, well…sorry.”

“That’s why I never would take you kids there. PTSD,” she laughed. “Anyway, what's going on with the movie?”

Emily shrugged, “They need money for post, post-production, editing, that kind of stuff, and then it has to get into festivals. We'll see. It was a good experience. What's new with you? How's work?” She figured keeping it anodyne was best, no risk of her pulling out the rug from under her.

“It's good. Gerald, Mr. Donato, is finally retiring.”

“That's good. Isn't he like 80?”

“82. His wife is making him, I'm pretty sure. What does your firm do?”

“Mostly corporate, some litigation.” I can live with this.

“Do you like it? How are the lawyers? You know how bad they can be.”

“It's good. I mean, if, when my acting hits, I'm gone, but I get good benefits and my boss is really good about auditions and stuff. Most of the lawyers are good, a couple of jerks.”

“Out of how many?”

“40.”

“The odds don't get better than that. Tell me about school.”

“I graduated with a BFA in acting last year,” not that you were there.

“You made good friends, I hear.”

“I did. I really did. They really supported me.”

“That's really wonderful,” and she wiped away a tear. “I'm so, so, so, sorry, Emily. I really am.”

“Please stop. Please. I've spent six years accepting that I didn't have you when I needed you. I can't revisit it, I don't want to either.”

“I.. I just…I mean, no I understand.”

“Thank you. We can't go backwards.”

“We can't. And it's not healthy to try.”

“More Jennifer?”

“Grandma. She says hello.”

“OK.” Her mother gave her a look. “She cut me off.”

“That was my f…”

Emily held up her hand. “It was, but it was her fault too. She didn’t need to cut me off completely. She could’ve called me, texted, emailed, anything, but she didn’t. Neither did Jackie or Stacy or Mia. They were adults, what did they have to lose? Stef and Jordan had a lot more to lose and they didn’t cut me off. So, I’m sorry if that sounds harsh, but I could’ve really, really used her. I knew that dad’s parents hated me, they made that clear early and often, but I thought your mother and Jackie loved me and they didn’t. So, I mean I’ll ask how they are because they’re your family but, honestly, I’m really, really angry at them and I can’t pretend I’m not.”

“They do love you,” her mother said softly, “please don’t blame them for me.”

“I’m blaming them for them. I mean, I’ll be perfectly nice and polite at the wedding…”

Her mother smiled, “I know you will…”

“But, again, I can’t just forgive and forget.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“Yes, good. People have to earn your respect, your forgiveness, you don’t just give that away.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me, Emily. I didn’t do anything worthy of thanks. I like Emily. She stands up for herself.”

Emily felt herself turn red. “I kinda have to.”

Her mother smiled, “Every woman has to, even if most don’t. I’m sorry you learned it harder than most of us.”

“Do you really consider me a woman? This isn’t just to make peace for the wedding?”

Her mother sighed. “Emily, yes, I do. I really have spent a lot of time on this. When I watched you, I saw a girl, a young woman. Not a man in a dress, not a man pretending, not an effeminate man, I saw a young woman. Everything - gestures, language, movement - about you is female. You're no more male than me or Steffie.”

“I…”

“Emily, again, I wish I had realized it sooner. You were always my little girl, Steffie was my daughter, but you were my little girl, my kitchen helper, my singing buddy. Can I tell you another story? You were three or four and we were in the supermarket and you were talking about pretend time at preschool, and this woman, older, probably my age now, came over and said, ‘what an imaginative little girl, were you a princess,’ and I held my breath, then you said, ‘no, my friend Lexie was. She was Sleeping Beauty and she has blonde hair like spun silk like the girl in Rumplestilskin,’ my teacher just read that to us,’ and you went on and on.”

“That poor woman…”

Her mother laughed, “Said how imaginative you were and how I should ‘never let her lose that spark.’”

“Really?”

“Yup, she called you an adorable little doll.”

“And you didn't correct her?”

“About what? You were an adorable little doll.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Maybe I knew it then too.

“Uh huh. Was there a Lexie in my class? I don’t remember her.”

Her mother smiled, “You made her up,” then, “I almost took you for a mother-daughter day and I hate that we never did.”

“We couldn't, I know that.”

“I know you and Stephanie used to dress up. I only wish I could have seen you in Stef’s dress for the dance.”

“Excuse me, what?”

Her mother rolled her eyes. “Emily, I know your sister thinks she’s smarter than me, but come on. One day, it’s downstairs and the next day it’s in her closet. Did she think I’d think she was taking a walk down memory lane?” Emily turned red, and her mother said, “What were you thinking when you did it?”

Emily looked at her mirror, then said, “it was the first time I liked my reflection.”

“I cannot apologize enough…”

Emily thought about what Claire had said. “Don't. There's no way I could've done anything. It's not like you should've let me go to school in a dress. Life was bad enough.”

Her mother started crying, “You don't need to absolve me…”

“I'm not. You did a lot wrong, really, really wrong, but I'm not stupid or suicidal. As much as I dreamed about it, I wouldn't have made it off the bus. My friend Claire taught me that.”

Her mother took a deep breath. “Do you ever…”

“No. I'm incredibly lucky that I've read female for almost five years. A lot of people I know aren't so lucky and I hate it.” Her mother sat there silently. “I know you don't understand.”

Her mother picked at her cuticles. “No one should ever have to worry about that.”

“That's not what you said on the phone.”

The color drained from her mother's face. “I…can't, won't even try to defend my behavior and please say whatever you need to say.”

“There's nothing to say. You said what you were thinking, what you were feeling.”

“Like I said, I truly don't feel that way anymore.”

“I hope so.”

Her mother exhaled. “I'm going to try and earn your trust. But I really think we need a plan for them, one that doesn't necessarily involve pepper spray.”

Emily shrugged, “They used to hurt me because I wanted them to like me, but I don't anymore, so they'll say what they'll say. No worse than I've heard right wing assholes say around Pride.”

“I'm not afraid of what they'll say, who cares, it reflects on them. I am afraid of what they'll do and no amount of talking about it is going to make that better.”

“I will never, ever be alone. Not the whole day. I'll try and always be with a guy, Liam or Rob or whoever, but I can't be afraid of them. They made the first 17 years of my life hell but I won't let them do that anymore.”

“I hope you're right.”

Me too, she thought, me too.

—
She went into Marissa's room and sat on her bed. “Well, that's done.”

“That bad?”

“No, it's just more like, I just y’know don't know if I can trust her.”

Marissa gave her a hug. “You don't have to do anything with her, not unless you want to. She has to prove she deserves you, not the other way around. So what did she say?”

Emily repeated everything, Marissa stopping her on the dress. “She really had you try it on? That's weird.”

“It gets weirder,” and she told her the supermarket story.

Marissa laughed, “So little Emily told really long stories too?”

Emily laughed, “Shut up. That's not what I meant.”

Marissa laughed, then said, “It sounds like she wants to try, that she knows she fucked up bad. You know if I thought it was bull, I'd say so.”

“What if you're wrong? I couldn't deal with that.”

“Em,” and she put her arm around her, “it's not first year anymore. You have me and Shaye and everyone, plus you know now that you can do it. She's just someone trying. If she pisses you off, you can tell her off or cut her out and you know we'll all be here for you, plus your aunt and uncle and Liam.”

“I just…”

“Seriously, Em, you can do it. Did she ask you about y’know?”

Emily laughed, “Thank God, no, I stopped that, although she did ask me about my boobs.”

Marissa's eyes widened, “No! Like what did she ask you?”

“Are they real,” Emily laughed.

“That's weird AF. Like you know mine is way too invested in my period and shit, but you ask your own daughter if she has fake tits?” And she shuddered. “Did you answer her?”

“Yup, I think she liked it when I said genetics helped. Like she gave me these or something. Anyway, I guess I don't really have a choice here, I mean if I want to avoid drama at the wedding.”

“Just remember, you control the pace, not her.”

Emily shrugged and gave her a hug, “Thanks, Riss.”

“You're welcome. Do I have hair like spun silk like in Rumplestilskin?”

Emily picked up a pillow and threw it at her.

—-
“Don’t make me regret this,” Stef said to her mother, as they approached the Botanic Garden three weeks later. Against her better judgment, she had agreed to let her parents look at the wedding venue on the day that they were choosing menus.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence,” her mother said, rolling her eyes. “I promise to behave myself,” she said, in a singsong, then, “I thought it would be at least 30 years before we’d switch roles, but you were always ahead for your age.”

“Laura,” her father laughed, “sounds familiar?”

She looked at him, “Completely different,” then she smiled. “Your father is developing Alzheimer's because he seems to remember a conversation between me and my mother around our wedding, but they're nothing alike. Besides, she wasn't rational.”

Stef looked at Jared, “Much different.”

Jared looked at her. “I'm staying out of this.”

Her father put his arm around Jared and she was shocked at the difference. Jared looked good, had gym muscles but, even with fifteen extra pounds, her father was just…bigger. “It took you how long, but you've finally learned to stay out of it,” and everyone laughed.

“So we’re looking at the menus today?” Laura asked.

“I told her to bring out the colors and table stuff as well,” even though she had already chosen hydrangeas and peonies, since the wedding was in the fall. “Believe it or not, I do value your opinion. I just wanted…”

Her mother smiled, “To do it yourself. “Jared, what is it your family always says?”

“Ma Nishtana?” From the seder, why is this night different from all other nights?

“That’s it,” and they walked in. Her mother looked around, “It really is beautiful here. It really is light and hopeful. Honestly, if Emily told me she was getting married here, it would make more sense.”

“Hey! I’m light and hopeful!” Just then, a willowy blonde woman in a blue dress came over and gave Stef an air kiss. “Hi, Stef! Jared!”

“Hi, Cara, this is my mom, Laura and my dad Doug. Guys, this is Cara, she’s the wedding manager here.”

Cara gave Stef a glance, then, “So, Stef wanted you to see what she was thinking about…” She led them through the building, “So, this is how your guests will enter, they'll see all the beautiful plants and flowers, obviously, you wouldn't be here if we didn't have these, they change depending on the season, we’ll have someone with champagne…”

Her father looked at Stef, “We’ll discuss that later.”

“It’s not that much, Mr. Nehlen.”

He held up his hand, “I’m sure. Something else, don’t worry.”

Cara looked at Stef, who shrugged, “Regardless, they’ll go to the Rose Terrace,” and she walked them through to it, her mother and father looking around, “for the ceremony.”.

“This is beautiful,” her mother said, leaning over to sniff a rose, which made Stef look at Cara and shrug. “This is gorgeous. How will it look in October though?”

Cara kept smiling. “Don’t worry. There are always roses here. Plus the leaves on the trees will have turned, which makes this ablaze with color.” Stef wondered how she was able to say that with a straight face.

“What if it rains?”

Stef looked at Cara, who said, “Well, weather happens and if it does, we’ll take everything inside to the pavilion.”

“Now,” and she walked them around, “here’s where the chairs will be set up for the ceremony, the chuppah, canopy, will be here. Imagine a trellis with flowers creeping up, and then leading to the cover. Jared, you mentioned something about using your tallit?”

Jared looked around, then said, “Uh yeah, so Doug and Laura, if you don’t mind,” which got a glare from Stef, “it’s kind of tradition in my family that everyone gets married under my grandfather’s tallis, his prayer shawl, and I’d kinda like to honor his memory that way.”

Her mother looked at him, “Even though Stef’s not Jewish? Your aunt won’t mind?” Which got a hissed, ‘ma…’

Jared smiled, “Michelle will deal or she won’t. I’m sure she’ll make snarky comments at the cocktail hour or whatever but my grandma said, when we brought that up, ‘ma nishtana’,” which got a laugh from Laura and Doug.

“And here is where the processional will start. Dad, this is where you and mom will start the walk down the aisle with Stef, everyone will turn around and ooh and aah.” Stef’s mother looked around, while her dad just gave a little smile then looked down.

“Then, you’ll stand here, the officiant will do what the officiant does, break the glass, if you’re doing that, kiss, kiss,” and Stef noticed how her father just kept looking at her with a small smile, “and then the cocktail hour will be over here. Passed hors d'oeuvres, the bar will be over here…”

Her dad smiled, “Will there be pigs in the blanket,” which got a sighed, ‘dad,’ from Stef and ‘Doug’ from Laura, then, “excuse my husband.”

“People like them,” he said.

Cara laughed, “In the entire time I’ve been in the wedding business, I can count on one hand the number of times a dad hasn’t asked that. Don’t worry, Mr. Nehlen. Stef and Jared told me that was a redline for you, I’ll make sure they come to you first,” and she winked, which got an eye roll from her mother.

“After an hour, we’ll take the guests to the McKinley Pavilion,” and she walked them into an outdoor space with a roof but no walls, and before anyone could speak, “if the weather doesn’t cooperate, there will be glass walls, so your guests can look onto the gardens and lake, but not get wet.”

Stef looked at her parents, “She’s done this before, you can tell.”

“No! Really?” Her mother said.

Cara kept smiling, “Stef, it’s a legitimate question. If it’s cold, we’ll have space heaters also. The goal is to make sure that everyone goes home happy, talking about how wonderful the wedding was,” then, “and here’s where the dance floor will be. Dad, here’s where the two of you will do the father-daughter dance,” and he just nodded, and kept looking around.

Cara took everyone to look at the menus and Doug excused himself. He walked out and stood looking at the lake. “Excuse me. Go ahead, and show her the menus, I’ll be right back.”

Stef walked out to where her father stood. “You OK, dad?”

He didn’t look at her, “Mmm hmmm.”

“Is something bothering you? Was it the champagne when guests came in? It’s not that much, we don’t have to have it.”

“Nothing’s bothering me, we’ll talk about that later,” he said, staring out.

She went over and touched his hand. “What’s wrong? Something’s wrong, You don’t like this place. I know, it’s all the flowers and stuff and you don’t want to listen…”

“I like the flowers just fine, it’s a wedding, weddings have flowers, everyone knows that.”

“Then, what is it? I’ll be nice to her the rest of the day, no matter what she does,” she laughed.

He put his arm around her and wordlessly pulled her in tight to him. After a minute, he said, still looking at the lake, “We should probably get back over there. I don’t want to be rude.”

She looked at him, “I love you, daddy.”

“I love you too,” and they walked back over to where her mother and Jared sat. Her mother looked at her father, “So they’ve chosen chicken and salmon for the entrees. Will you be OK if there’s no meat, Doug?”

“Mmm hmmm.”

“You sure,” and she gave Stef a look.

“Yup, it’s fine. It’s not the worst thing to eat less red meat, I’ve heard.”

“OK,” she said, drawing out the words. “Cara said that they’re going to bring out samples of hors d'oeuvres and desserts. You’ll like that.”

Her dad looked at Cara, “Thanks. I mean, that sounds great,” and he looked at Jared, then Stef, then Jared again.

They sampled the hors d’oeuvres, her mother being satisfied with everything except, inexplicably, a beef skewer and a middle eastern cheese ‘cigar,’ which got a “Maaa. We had a deal. Besides, it’s meat on a stick, how can you object to meat on a stick?”

“I just said I didn’t like the flavor. I can’t have an opinion. Jared, what do you think?”

“Nope, not getting in the middle of this, nope,” and he looked at Doug, who laughed.

When Cara showed the centerpieces to them, her mother said, “Hydrangeas and peonies?”

Stef looked at her, “It’s the season for them. I like the idea of something seasonal.”

“Fine…”

“What?” With that, Jared moved away. “What’s,” and she imitated her, “fine?”

“I would’ve thought you’d want roses. I mean, this place is known for its roses.”

“And there are lots of them. This is something different and see, it’s really pretty.”

“Again, fine.”

“I should not have let Emmy convince me…”

“Excuse me, what?” Her mother smiled.

“Nothing.”

“Cara,” Jared said, “can you show me where the DJ will be again?”

“Chicken,” her father said, as he followed them.

“They’re gone. Emily convinced you?”

Stef sighed, then said, “Yeah, she actually said I was being mean not letting you be involved, that you had a right to see everything.”

“Really?”

“I told you. She’s really sweet and she really hated it when you threw her out.”

“I apologized profusely.”

“I know you did. I’m just letting you know that she stood up for you.”

Her mother smiled, “So, if she hadn’t pushed, I wouldn’t be here?”

“I didn’t say that,” Stef shifted nervously, “I just…you know what? You don’t like the beef skewers, we’ll have something else.”

“If you like them, have them. I wasn’t planning on eating one of everything,” she laughed.

“Who are you and what have you done with my mother?”

“Ha ha.”

“Kidding. Anyway, we’ll see if we have them. What’s with dad and the champagne? Of all the stuff I figured would bother him…”

She looked over at everyone, Jared talking to Cara and Doug standing there quietly, “I have no idea. What did he say when you went out to him?”

Stef looked at him, “Nothing. I told him I understood if he didn’t like this place because of all the flowers, because, y’know, I figured someone would say something, and he just said weddings have flowers and kept looking at the lake. Weird.”

“I’ll ask later and let you know. He wasn’t upset in the car or anything. Let’s go rescue Cara.”

Her mother smiled, “Thank you, Cara. This is beautiful and everything looks wonderful…”

“Again, who are you and what did you do with my mother?” Everyone laughed, even Laura.

“I know that this will be a perfect day for Steffie and Jared, right, Doug?”

“Mmm hmmm,” and he looked at Stef and then out at the lake. “Yup. It will be.”

Cara gave a little laugh, “Ah, the strong silent type. Well, anyway, if you have any questions, Stef has my contact info,” and she walked away.

“OK, Doug, what’s up? You’ve been quiet since we got here.”

He smiled, “Like I’ve told Jared a hundred times, I’m not getting involved.”

“Yeah, fine, dad, but what’s up? What’s with the champagne?”

“Hey Jared, you mind going over there?”

Jared looked at Laura and Stef, who both shrugged, “Sure, no worries.”

“OK, what, dad? What’s the big secret?”

“Do we really want to give Trev and P.J. and that skank P.J. dates the chance to get drunk before the ceremony? I’m worried enough about that as is.”

“Huh?”

“You know what. They’re going to be bad enough about Emily as is, do we want to add more alcohol to this?”

“Is that what was bothering you all day, Doug?”

“OK, dad, so we won’t have champagne. Seriously though, what’s up? You didn’t even eat all of everything before we had a chance,” she teased, “Are you feeling OK? Should we take you to the hospital?”

He just took her hand and smiled weakly, “Yeah, that was it. The champagne. We’re all good,” and he gave her another hug.

Emily Berrigan is a 23 year old woman, who hasn't seen her twin in six years. Not since she told her parents the truth and they threw her out. Now her older sister is getting married and she wants Emily there...as a bridesmaid. Will sparks fly?
---
In this chapter, Emily comes to Chicago for the wedding weekend, confronts her mother's family and meets Jared's.
---
After six hours in traffic and in the air, Emily landed at O’Hare. She had tried to get a flight out of Burbank - it was closer, smaller and parking was cheaper, but she would’ve had to connect in Denver and she didn’t want to risk losing her luggage, which left an hour and a half getting to, and through, the hellscape that is LAX. She deplaned and went down to baggage claim, alternating flicking through her phone and staring at the carousel. When she took her suitcase off, she heard, “Emily!”

She saw Jeannie coming in and grinned, giving her a big hug and kiss. “Ohmigosh! You really didn't have to do this. I mean it's way early and I could've taken the train or a cab.”

“I wanted to spend some time with you, especially since the weekend is going to be crazy.”

“Yeah, but you're going to have to get Liam too…” Liam had told her he would've flown with her except he had a class that morning he couldn't skip.

“Stop. I'll spend some time with you and then get him on my way back, unless you don't want to,” she grinned.

“Please, like there's anyone else I wanted to spend time with more,” and she gave her another hug, then, “I'm not making a mistake by doing this, right?” ‘This’ being meeting her grandmother, aunt and cousins. “I mean I didn't want anything to ruin Stef's day. I want it to be perfect and I was not going to let my drama ruin her day. Hers and Jared’s, I mean.”

Jeannie laughed, “I'm sure he'd appreciate being included.”

“I'm not making a mistake, right? You don't think my mom and Stef made them do this?”

“For the tenth time, no. Stef would never do that to you and your mom’s really happy that you two are talking, that you're letting her come with you to get room gifts, she told me, and she would never sabotage that by sandbagging you. Whatever else she may be, she’s not that.”

Emily smiled. “That’s a defense.”

“You know what I meant,” she laughed. “She has her baby back and she's not giving you up.”

Emily shrugged, “Maybe. So, anyway, the velvet dress I showed you is good for the rehearsal, right?” She was meeting Jared's parents for the first time and couldn't decide what to wear.

“No. We talked about this. Come on,” and then she grinned.

“Shut up. I just want to make a good impression.”

Jeannie kept smiling. “You always make a good impression.”

“I'm just…”

“Don't be..anyway, what's going with what's-her-name?” With that, Emily started describing an ongoing argument with a co-worker.

—
Emily stood nervously in her jeans and teal sweater over white cotton button down, Nikes on her feet. This was a mistake, she knew it was a mistake and she had only compounded the mistake by telling Jeannie ‘I can handle this.’ She practiced breathing, hoping her nervousness didn't show through. Then, she thought, whatever. You didn't have them before, you won't have them after, who cares. Then, as she was going to the other hand, she saw them walk in, her grandmother, aunt and cousins and saw her grandmother grip her aunt’s arm tightly.

They all approached her and Emily broke the silence with, “Hello.”

Her cousin Stacy turned to Aunt Jackie and laughed, “Did you get pregnant again and we missed it?”

Jackie spoke first “Thank you for agreeing to meet us…”

“Yes, and for giving your mother - and hopefully the rest of us, another chance, we don't deserve it,” her grandmother interrupted. She moved to give Em a hug and she held her hand out. Her grandmother’s shoulders slumped and she said, “I understand.” Em felt her stomach drop and she cursed herself for that.

Her aunt went to open her mouth and Em looked at her, “Why did you all do it?”

Jackie looked at her, “Your mother was acting irrationally and instead of telling her to snap out of it and do the right thing, we caved. It's absolutely unacceptable but it's the truth.”

Emily felt herself tearing up, then stopped, “I really needed you guys,” and she turned to her grandmother, “especially you. I was alone and afraid and you just cut me off without anything, and I was only 17 and I wondered what I did to make you hate me so much that you couldn't even say goodbye, much less not say goodbye.”

“Emily, first, I never hated you. I never did and I never will. Like your aunt said, we caved. I not only failed as a grandmother, I failed as a mother. I should've looked at your mother and said your daughter needs you so get your head out of your behind and take care of her and, more importantly, I should've looked in the mirror and told myself the same thing. I didn't. And when I finally realized I was wrong, I was too embarrassed to call you. If you want to tell us it's too little, too late, you should, we deserve it, but I hope you won't.”

If this was victory, Emily felt awful. And she looked at the woman before her, the one that called her her ‘little star’ and who baked her cookies and whose hugs had always made Emily feel like she was before a roaring fire on a snowy day, cup of hot chocolate in hand. Emily looked at the floor, “I'll tell you what I told mom, I'll try my hardest but I make no guarantees, I can't.”

Her aunt stood next to her and rubbed her shoulder, “We know, Emily. We're glad you're willing to try,”

Mia laughed, “Your sister wouldn't.” Her grandmother, aunt and Stacy laughed.

“Hey! That's not fair! Ok, well, it's not nice,” Em laughed.

Her grandmother moved Jackie out of the way and rubbed her shoulder some more. “Emily Claire, your mother can't stand that name, for some reason, I like it,” she laughed, “I want you to know that whatever you need to get off your chest, you say it, no matter what. But I also want you to know that we are all so excited to finally have the real Emily.”

“You really mean that? If you don't, just tell me. I can't have that toxicity in my life.”

Stacy looked at her, “Emily, as far as I was concerned, you were always Emily. We cut you off because we were more concerned with not listening to your mother and that was an absolutely shitty thing to do. I’ll apologize as many times as you’ll let me.”

Emily looked at her, “Thanks but you know what? I can’t go backwards and I don’t want to. I told my mother that this will happen or it won’t, but going backwards isn’t good for me.”

Mia looked at her. “Did you tell your dad’s family that?” she laughed.

In spite of herself, Emily smiled. “And THAT is place number one that I don’t want to go,” which made everyone laugh.

Jackie looked at her. “You’re one of us. Steffie got Nehlen hair, but you’re one of us.”

“Again, do you really mean that or did my mom put you up to this?”

Before Emily could speak, her grandmother said, “You are my granddaughter. My beautiful granddaughter. That's it. When I came in before and saw you, I don't think I felt as happy since I saw you in the hospital when you were born,” then she reached into her bag and pulled out a long box and handed it to Em.

“What’s this?” She slid a nail under the wrapping, opened the box and looked at the gold butterfly necklace with small emeralds. “Ohmigosh, it’s beautiful.”

Her grandmother came over and said ‘may I,’ as she put the necklace around Em’s neck. “I get all of my granddaughters a gemstone necklace when they turn 21. Sorry I’m late.”

“Butterflies are my spirit animal, how did you know?”

Mia looked at her. “I remember babysitting you when you and Jordan were four or so. Jordan was busy tearing around our backyard and you saw a butterfly and just smiled, and looked at it until it flew away. Oh yeah, that and Steffie told us all how much you liked them.”

She hugged her grandmother without thinking. “It’s beautiful. Thank you,” and she looked at her reflection in the chrome of the espresso machine.

“Emily, I'm going to earn back your trust and your love and so is Jackie and so are your cousins.”

“I'll try my hardest too,” Emily said.

Jackie looked at her, “We do the work, not you. You just keep being you and giving me diabetes,” and she winked.

“Hey!” She looked at her reflection in the chrome of the espresso machine. Her aunt looked at her and smiled. “What?”

“That necklace really does set off your eyes,” and she touched her hair. “Yup, that settles it, you’re one of us.”

She smiled, “Am I really?” Then she kicked herself for being so open, so needy.

Jackie stood next to her. “Emily, you know I don't mince words, but I mean it. You were a little girl in my backyard, you're a grown woman now, I don't care about some mistake the county department of health made on a piece of paper.”

“Really? You really mean that?” Stand up for yourself.

“Yes,” then, “enough sentimentality. Please tell me your mother has stopped with Stacy and Mia as bridesmaids.” Her cousins groaned.

Emily laughed, grateful for the distraction, “Finally.”

Her grandmother laughed, “That's the Grandpa Frank in her. Get a bad idea in your head and ride that horse until it drops. I told her, Stef told her…”

“Stace and I told her,” Mia laughed. “Maybe you can explain why…”

“I don’t know, maybe it's the whole Jamie and Brooke thing which is stupid, but…” And everyone laughed. “I think she realizes that, two days before, nothing's changing, but,” and she shrugged.

Jackie laughed, “You're being very diplomatic.”

Emily laughed, “What else can I do?”

Then her grandmother smiled, "Thank you for Berrigan. If my father was here, he'd thank you too."

Emily smiled back. "That story always stuck with me. If she could do it, so could I." I'm doing this, she thought, right?

—--
Her grandmother, aunt and cousins left, and then her mom met her, “Jackie said it went really well.”

“I dunno. How do I know it wasn't an act?”

“It was NOT an act. If it was an act, I will never speak to any of them again and your sister….”

“I just…”

“Emily, they apologized…”

‘I feel pathetic,’ she thought to herself. ‘I know you all cut me off and didn’t have anything to do with me for six years, but please love me. “I guess. I just…”

“You’re giving them and me a second chance, that they, we better not mess up. Remember that you set the terms, not us. You’re not a little girl anymore,” which made Emily pause. “You decide. If anyone, them, me, says something, does something, tell them it’s unacceptable.”

Emily thought how she couldn’t do that, not like Stef. “Uh huh.”

“You can do it, Emily. And thank you again. It means a lot to Stef, it means a lot to me.”

“Uh huh,” she said, as she still couldn't shake the feeling that the other shoe hadn't dropped, then resolved to just enjoy the day as much as possible.

“I mean it. There's a reason you're the sweet one and Stef is the smart one,” she laughed.

“Hey, I think that's an insult!”

“It isn't. So what does her highness want us to get for everyone?”

“I dunno. Bottle of wine, some cheese and crackers and she said ‘something Chicago-specific,’ so I dunno what that means, Lemonheads or a Cubs hat?”

Her mother laughed, “Your father would buy them a six-pack of Old Style and call it a day. How about Frangos?”

Emily smiled, remembering how her grandmother always had some in the house and would let them have one before dinner. “OK,” and they walked along Michigan Avenue, looking in the windows of the stores neither could afford. “Those are pretty,” her mother said, looking at a pair of black Louboutins with a 3 inch heel.

Em still didn't trust her but decided to cast caution to the wind. “I actually bought a pair like that, not those obviously, I can't afford a sole on one of those…”

Her mother laughed, “Darn, and I was thinking that, if you could, I was going to ask if your firm was hiring. I have a pair about that high to wear Saturday, obviously in blue. I rarely wear them that high, so I hope I don't fall on my face. That's for your cousins…”

“They're still that bad?”

“Sadly, yes…”

They kept walking, just staring in the windows and talking about work and the wedding and Jared's family. “I love Jar and Jamie and all of them. They were so nice when we went for drinks…”

“Why shouldn't they be?”

“I just…”

Her mother looked at her. “There's no just. You are a sweet, wonderful girl, young woman, sorry…I know we said we wouldn't talk about it again and I won't but I don't think you realize how much everyone loves you and how big a mistake I made. If someone doesn't like you, there's something wrong with them.” Emily looked down and mumbled, and her mother said, “I mean it. We are proud of you, proud of the life you've made, proud that, in spite of us, you are still the same sweet person and I know you don't like talking about it, but what you've done for Jeannie, Rob and Liam…”

“Everyone keeps saying that. They've done a lot for me too.”

“Good,” then, “am I making you uncomfortable?”

“Kinda?”

“I'll stop then,” she smiled, “although I love Nicki, how she came from that witch of a mother, I will never know.” Then, she picked up a conversation they had had about her job about how one of the admins wasn't doing her job and was blaming everyone else.

“Yeah, we have one of those too, Luz. She's constantly trying to get people to talk about the lawyers but we're all like, ‘yeah, we'll pass,’ you tell her something, you may as well yell it.”

“Oh god, you probably don't remember Susan…”

“Fat Susan or Scary Susan?”

Her mother started laughing, “What?”

“Oh yeah, sorry, that's what we called them. Me and Jordy and Stevie Harris. Stef just used to say, ‘I thought fat people were supposed to be jolly.’”

Her mother kept laughing, “I had no idea. I shudder thinking about what people called me then. Anyway, it was I'm guessing Scary Susan,” and she told a story about how she said something to one of the lawyers and got someone fired.

After half an hour, her mother looked at her, “You are so much easier to shop with than Stephanie.”

“Really, why?”

Her mother smiled, “You're really asking that?”

They walked into a gourmet market and her mother put a couple of bottles of Pinot into the basket, “Everyone likes this.”

“We should see what kind of cheese we get first. Like pinot is fine with something like Brie or Grana Padano, the acidity of the wine balances out the nuttiness of the cheese. But if we go with something like Asiago or Fiore Sardo, which is harder and will probably stay better in the room, you want something fruitier like Zin or a rioja, but some people don't love fruitier wines, although I'm sure they'll appreciate it. It's not like a riesling or a Moscato, which is way too sweet…” She saw her mother staring at her. “What?”

“How do you know all that?”

“That's nothing. A good cheesemonger or sommelier could give you twenty minutes on just one. Anyway, I worked at this one place, total old school expense account place that was known for its cheese course, lots of old guys who eat cheese, young guys in LA don't, and you'd always get some guy who wanted to test what the girl knew, make me look bad, so I studied everything about everything so they couldn't.”

Her mother smiled, “Your father will be glad to know there's some of him in you. I would have just curled up into a ball.”

They finished shopping and went back to Emily's room (she was sharing with Arden) to assemble the baskets. Her mother looked at her, “I don't think I've had such a good day in a long time.”

“We just walked around.”

“Exactly. You and me. No one else, just you and me.”

Em, despite herself, felt a tear, “You really mean that?”

“I really do,” and she gave her a hug, “Jeannie told me you were a crier.”

“Stupid hormones, my mood goes all over the place sometimes.”

“Better tears than what Jackie's going through now. Did she tell you? First, hot flashes, then she's freezing, then she's hot again. Poor Uncle Mark says he needs to sleep in shorts and a parka.”

“Marissa's mom's going through it now and she's like,” and she swung her arm in a semi-circle. “Sorry.”

“Why? For what?”

“I just, I figured me, talking about it and my hormones…”

Her mother held up her hand, “Is perfectly normal. Do I think Marissa's mom would appreciate,” and she swung her arm, “probably not, but if you ever have questions or concerns or just want to complain, I'm here to listen.”

“Really?”

Her mother sighed. “You are my daughter, Emily. I'm sorry I didn't realize it sooner and I wasn't there to help when you started on hormones…”

Emily laughed, “Trust me, you're not sorry. I was a mess.”

“I dealt with your sister and Jordan, you couldn't have been worse than them,” she laughed. “Anyway, you can't make me feel uncomfortable. I'm your mother.”

Emily paused, started to speak, paused, and then said, “ Is there anything else you want to do?”

“I would love to, but I need to get back home and take care of things before tomorrow.” She gave her a kiss, “I had a wonderful day.”

“I'll see you tomorrow,” and she remembered to smile.

As she was leaving, she stopped. “I almost forgot,” and she fished around in her purse, taking out a small box.

“What's this?” Emily opened it and saw a set of pearl earrings. “Are these your grandmother's earrings?”

“Mmm hmmm. She gave them to grandma, who was the youngest girl, who gave them to me for the same reason, and now it's my turn.”

Emily started tearing up. “Oh wow, I mean, I, are you sure?”

“Of course I'm sure. You're the youngest girl, right?” Emily nodded and wiped her eyes, and her mother smiled. “Then they're yours and if you have daughters, you'll give them to the youngest one too.”

“I… I…” She took out her earrings and put them in. She went over to the mirror. “They're so pretty. I used to love when you wore them. I loved the whole tradition.”

Her mother smiled. “I know, that's why you deserve them. Will you wear them Saturday? I think grandma would really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” and then she wiped her eyes. “I know, I know, I'm a crier.”

Her mother smiled and kissed her cheek. “I love you, Emmy.”

“I love you too.”

–
That night, Stef was taking her bridal party out for dinner, but in the afternoon took Arden to a spa for massages and facials.

“Where’s everyone else?”

“Brooke and Jamie are doing stuff with Jar’s mom and Nicki and the bitch,” Stef laughed, “We need this. Look at your face,” which got a middle finger. “Em has 23 year old relaxed skin. Besides, she's getting room gifts with my mom.”

Arden looked at her, “Wow, that's, wow…”

Stef laughed, then got serious, “They're both really trying. Em won't ever say it, but she really missed my mom and my mom is thrilled she has her favorite back.”

Arden laughed, “Jealous?”

Stef scoffed, “Please, Ar, I've had her all…to…myself for the past six years. Anyway, thanks for splitting a room with her. She wouldn't let anyone pay and I know she's not making a lot.”

“Please, I love her.”

“She loves you too. You'll see her tonight.”

Arden laughed, “Not that I’m turning down a free facial and a free meal…”

“It’s going to be crazy tomorrow. Plus, I wanted everyone to hang out relaxed, because tomorrow’s going to be crazy, with everyone there. Besides, Jamie and I figured Em and Brooke should meet beforehand, without everyone there and without my parents or Jar’s trying to force some connection on them,” and, in an annoying voice, “you both live in LA, and she’s an actress and you’re in film school,” which got a laugh.

They took them first for facials, applying mud masks and then putting cucumbers on their eyes. “You know, when I was a kid and I saw people doing this on TV, I thought it was BS,” Arden said. “Like who would put mud on their face on purpose, except my cousin and he ate crayons.”

Stef laughed, “The first time my mom took me, when I was like 15 or something, I remember the woman coming at me with that little pore cleaning thing. I almost ran out.”

They talked about residency for a while,about her attending physician who was ‘a total asshole,’ and about Stef's job (‘I expect a call during the ceremony.’)

After the esthetician dug out their pores, an activity not conducive to conversation other than ‘hold still’ and ‘ow,’ they went to the plunge pool. “Fuck, that’s cold,” Stef laughed. “So anyway, I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for me, for being like my sister,”

Arden rolled her eyes. “Oh god, don't tell me that, now that you're getting married, you think you have to have feelings…”

“Shut up,” she laughed, “I'm serious.”

Arden smiled, “I know. So are you,” then, “so what's going to happen with them?” Meaning Stef’s father's family.

Stef took a deep breath, “I dunno. I'm afraid.”

Arden looked at her, “You said everyone is keeping an eye on her. You know that I will and I'm pretty sure your uncle would kill them if they even tried.”

They got out of the plunge pool, put on robes and went to get massages. “Yeah, well, it's just she's so excited and my mom's so excited and I just don't want everybody's memory to be…”

Arden looked at her. “It won't. I promise.”

“But…”

Arden said, “I know you want to make everything right, that's why I love you, but trust me, everyone's family is fucked up and everyone has stories from weddings and stuff.”

“What if my mom is right about violence?”

“She isn't. You said she's never going to be alone and she won't be. You're going to have a beautiful day with just regular embarrassing shit like my toast…”

Stef laughed, “You better not…”

“See, everything's back to normal…Mrs. Gauss. Mrs. Gauss, my mom says I can stay for dinner if you say it's ok,”

—--
That night at dinner, Brooke looked at Emily, and whispered, “I can't listen to any more law or medicine.”

“Definitely. It's like I have to listen to that at work. Can we talk about movies or TV or anything else?”

Brooke laughed, “Speaking of which, Stef said you were in a movie. Real or student?”

Emily found the distinction amusing, given that Brooke was at USC Film School, but said, “Micro-budget indie thing. I met the director when he was a PA on this commercial, he and the DP went to USC. We'll see what happens. Trying to raise money for post and all that, if I ever get called back to loop, I'll be shocked.”

“How was the shoot?”

“Eh, if nothing else, it's experience. I don't see it in wide release, if you know what I mean.”

“Bad horror or overwrought drama?”

Emily laughed. “Not that bad, but drama.”

“Jared says you're a Type A cheerleader, trying to get out of her life.” She looked at Stef, “Must've been really hard to find your character.”

Emily laughed, “Everyone keeps saying that. I did years of research beforehand. Like I said, it's experience, something for the resume maybe. What about you, what's your project?”

“I dunno. Maybe I'll do a movie about two female lawyers who can't talk about anything else… actually, I'm thinking I wanna do a thriller, female detective, that kind of thing, I have to figure out how to make a short of it.”

“That sounds really cool. Would you let me see the script?”

Brooke smiled, “Definitely. How come nobody got us together before?”

“Beats me. I'm like only fifteen minutes from you, the 101 to Alvarado and then like half a mile east,” both of them smiling at the way Californians treated the 101 and the 405 like the Tigris and Euphrates. “We're having a party in two weeks, if you're interested. Bring friends.”

—
Emily stood in front of the mirror Friday night, putting her hair up then down, remembering Stef at Stacy's rehearsal, the way they had put her hair up and Em had suggested little tendrils. After six times, she chose down. She took a look at herself in the purple velvet vintage babydoll dress and her Doc Martens and wondered if this was too casual, if she had made a mistake. Unfortunately, all she had was this, her bridesmaid’s dress and clothes to travel and hang out in. She had put back in her other earrings, figuring the pearl ones didn't really work. She went down the hall to Jordan and Kira. She knocked on the door and Kira opened it. She was wearing a black maxi dress and sandals. “You look amazing, Keek.”

“It's not too Morticia? I mean, you look really good. Also, it's not too Morticia?”

Jordan came over wearing black pants and a solid blue shirt. “I told her she looked just Morticia enough.”

Emily rolled her eyes at Kira. “You know I had hoped time had made you less stupid.”

Jordan laughed, “That was your first mistake. You should have known that was hopeless. You look really good, Emmy.”

“Thanks,” and she looked them up and down. “So do you,” then turning to Kira, “you’re really having an effect on them.” Kira laughed and Emmy continued, “Why am I nervous? None of them are going to be there.” It was just the bridal party, immediate family and out-of-town guests.

Jordan looked at her, “Don’t be. You’ll be fine. They’re actually, I dunno, normal people.”

“I don’t know what to do with that.”

“Me either. No one gets drunk, no one yells, no one fights. Honestly, it’s kinda boring,” they laughed.

Emily laughed, “We'll have plenty of not boring on Saturday, I'm sure, let's just enjoy this.”

They walked to the restaurant. “So what are they like?”

Jordan laughed, “I told you. They’re like nice, normal people. Really smart, like they’re all like Jared and Jamie, and they all talk - a lot.”

“That makes sense, I guess.”

“And they’re all super-progressive and stuff. Like they didn’t even look surprised at me.”

Kira touched their arm. “Why would they?”

Jordan flashed Emily a look. “You’ve met our family.”

Kira smiled and rubbed their shoulder, “Well, they’re wrong.”

They walked into the restaurant and saw Jared. “Jared!” Em said, giving him a kiss, “One more day…”

He gave her a kiss, then Kira. “Don't remind me, Moj,” he said, “Anyway, everyone is in the back room,” and he pointed, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

They walked to the back, and Emily took a breath to calm herself. Her mom walked over and gave each of them a kiss, “You two look beautiful and Jordan,” as she looked them up and down, “you look really good,” and turned to Kira, “you're working wonders. Come in, everyone’s in here.”

Jordan mouthed, with a smile, to Emmy, ‘is she clapped or something?’

A dark-haired woman, 5’4” in a black dress with a boat neck came over and gave Jordan a kiss on the cheek, and said, “Jordan, it's great to see you again. How's Indianapolis?”

“You too, Jen. Good, it’s good. This is my girlfriend, Kira. Kira, this is Jared’s mom, Jen,” and they exchanged kisses on the cheek.

Jen looked at Emily and smiled, “You must be the famous Emily. It's wonderful to finally get to put a face to the name.”

“Hi, Mrs. Gauss. It's so great to meet you. Thank you for having me, and mazel tov!” Jared's mother smiled and Emily said, “I said it right, right? My roommate taught me. Ok, I shouldn't have said that last part out loud.”

Jen laughed, “You said it perfectly, and I'm Jen.” She called out to the man talking to Stef, Jared and her dad, “Mark, come here.” The man walked over with Jared and shook Jordan's hand and asked about work.

He looked at Kira and Emily, and smiled. “You must be Kira, great to meet you,” and he kissed her. Then, he looked at Emily, “It's so nice to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you.”

“Uh oh.”

Everyone laughed, “No, it's all good. You're the actress, right?”

“I'm trying to be one, a working one, I mean.”

“Moji did a commercial for mayonnaise,” Jared said, “she was great.”

“Moji?”

Jamie came over and smiled, “When Em was in for Stef's birthday, Jared decided she was a human emoji, all smiles, and he tried,” and rolled her eyes at Stef, “to get us all to call her that.”

His mother laughed and looked at her husband, “Dog? Dog? Dog?”

His father laughed, “How was school today? It would be better if I had a dog.”

Emily's parents looked confused and Jared's mother smiled, “When Jared was eight, he really wanted a dog and wouldn't shut up about it until someone,” and she looked at her husband, “finally broke down.”

Em’s father, grinning at Stef, “You know how you could take the dog to the vet? In a car, a car, a car…did I mention everything you can do, I can do for you, with a car?”

Stef laughed, “You can't even not abuse me the night before my wedding…”

Emily said, “Jared just wanted a dog…”

Stef rolled her eyes, “She will always take his side, even against me.”

Jared put his arm around Stef, “That's because she's nicer than you.”

Jamie continued, “Anyway, you have to see Em’s commercial. It was very convincing, other than the mayo on everything.”

Emily smiled, “Have you ever had coffee with mayo? No, then don't judge. I'm just kidding.”

“No! Really?”

“Jamie,” Jared’s father laughed. “How do you like living in LA?”

“Umm, when it's 25 and gray here, it's 75 and sunny there. It's fun. I like it, except during fire season.”

“Fire season?” his mother said.

Emily laughed nervously, “The wildfires. They happen so much now, it may as well be a season.”

“That's awful.”

“Omigosh, yes. All those people losing their homes, I volunteered at a pop-up kitchen helping out…”

Stef laughed, “You in a kitchen? Those poor people hadn't suffered enough?”

“Shut up! Stef and Jordan have started a vicious rumor that I can't cook…besides, I helped serve.”

Mark said, “That's a wonderful thing you did. Besides, I don't know,” and he grinned, “that I've ever had the pleasure of one of your sister's gourmet meals.”

“Hey,” Stef laughed, “I can cook.” The look on her parents’ faces could charitably be called dubious. “Besides, we were making fun of Emmy, not me.”

Jared’s mother said, “I have to imagine it's very scary, with all the fires. Have they ever come close to you?”

“I've smelled smoke but thank goodness, we've never had to evacuate, but we still keep go bags ready,” then, “Anyway, I just want to tell you how much I love Jared and Jamie, they've been so great to me.”

“We love you too,” Jamie laughed.

“I really mean it. I'm so glad you'll be part of my family. Sorry if that sounds weird.”

Jared's mother smiled. “It doesn't.”

An older woman walked over with grandma, both in black knee length dresses, pearls and low heels. She said hello to Jordan and looked at Em and Kira. “You must be Kira,” and she kissed her then, “and, from the look of you, you could only be Emily.”

Emily smiled, “It's so great to meet you, Dr. Gauss, Stephanie has told me sooo much about you, that you were a professor, that's amazing, and really smart. OK, I need to stop talking so much.”

Jared's grandmother smiled at Stef and then at Emmy, “I've heard a lot about you too and it’s Gloria. How do you feel about being an actress? What are you doing to fight sexism?” Jared's father groaned, and his grandmother laughed, “I wasn't talking to you.”

“I mean, I like being an actress, it's fun, y’know, other than the rejection, but, I mean I'm not sure what I can do to fight it,” and she shrugged.

His grandmother imitated the shrug, then said, “It only changes if people fight it.”

Jamie laughed, “Welcome to the family, Em. You just got the speech that every woman in the family gets.”

Emily looked and said, “Obviously, it's totally wrong and if, when, if I get any kind of power, I'll totally fight it. Just right now, I'm just trying to get my foot in the door.”

Everyone talked for a little bit, Em’s grandmother complimenting her on her dress. “You look just like your mom did, when she was your age.”

Her mother and Jared's exchanged glances and Em said, “What?”

Jen sighed, “Time marches on…my face.”

Laura looked at her children, “I remember wearing one just like it. Then something came along and made that dress go out the window. Any ideas, Jen?”

“I have a couple, no, wait, three.” Emily felt mortified and Jen looked at her, smiling, “Don't worry, Emily, that dress is perfect, your mother and I were going down memory lane. While you've got it, flaunt it.”

A few seconds later, Brooke came over. “Hey, Em,” and she gave her a kiss, “come over here and meet everyone,” and they walked away to Arden talking to two guys.

Jen turned to Stef, grinning, “You two are sisters?” which made everyone laugh.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Stef laughed.

“Jamie told me but, my god, sorry omigosh, she's so adorable.”

“Hey! Take that back! I'm extremely adorable. Right, Jar?”

He laughed, “Um, sure, that's definitely a word for it.”

Doug looked at Mark and then moaned, “Jared, Jared, Jared,” and then his grandmother smiled, “Jared, if your grandfather were here, he would tell you to shut up and stop digging,” then she winked at Stef, “but she is a little cutie.”

His dad laughed, “Is she Mormon or something?”

Jamie laughed, “When we went to Utah, everyone smiled all the time and it drove him crazy.”

Doug smiled, “She takes after Laura’s side.”

Stef said, “My aunt Jeannie says that you couldn't have two of me or two of her in a family.”

“I like the one of you I have,” Jared said and he kissed her.

Doug laughed, “Not much of a save, Jared.”

—
In the meantime, Brooke said, “Em, this is Alex,” she said, nodding at a guy, about 5’11” with the same sallow complexion and patchy skin as Arden, “he's Jared's best man, they've been friends since forever, he's doing a fellowship in oncology, which is why,” and she grinned, “he looks like that.”

He laughed and said, “Maaa… can you tell Brookie to get out of my room? Alex and I wanna play Play Station and she's being more annoying than usual!”

The other man, a South Asian about 6’3”, 210, in a medium blue suit, pale blue shirt, no tie, smiled, “While they're on memory lane, I'm Vish Singh. Jared and I roomed together at Harvard, it's great to meet you,” and his eyes took a quiet walk over her.

“I'm Emily, Stef's sister, it's great to meet you, I think we're walking together.”

He said, “I thought he said I was walking with your sister Moji.”

Brooke groaned, “That's what Jared,” and she smiled at Emily, “and only Jared calls her. He says she's the human emoji. Ignore him.”

Vish laughed, “I spent three years ignoring him. Anyway, Stef says you live in Echo Park?”

“You know it?”

“My sister and her family are in Los Feliz, and I'm originally from Scripps Ranch,” a suburb of San Diego.

“It's nice down there. My friend is from Encinitas. What about you?”

She noticed his posture shift, his back straighten, “I'm in New York. After college, I went to McKinsey and then to a PE,” Great, she thought, a finance bro, terrific, “that's a private equity firm.”

Arden looked at her and rolled her eyes, as did Brooke. “Wow, that sounds really,” awful, horrible, “interesting. I'm just an actress.”

He took a sip of his drink, “Have I seen you in anything?” Every actor's favorite question.

“I was on an episode of,” and she named a procedural on which she had all of four lines, playing a college girl whose friend was attacked, “and a commercial for Best Foods mayo.”

“So, basically, if I watched TV with someone's grandpa, you'd be a star,” and he laughed.

She laughed, “Yup, I'm huge with the over 65 crowd. I'm going to get a drink. Brooke, can you show me where?”

They walked away, “Oh my god, is he always that big a dick? That's private equity, you know. I can't believe Jared is friends with him.”

Brooke laughed, “First off, that's way too many people at Harvard, which if you didn't know is where they went. Second, he's not the worst person once you get to know him.”

“Wow, not the worst person… That's a ringing endorsement. If I got him, who did you get?”

She laughed, “Their third roommate, Brett. He's some kind of lawyer, something in DC, woo hoo.”

—
Jordan was talking to Jared's father, their dad and some guest from out of town, an architect who had projects throughout Indiana. “So, you're using,” and the guest named a company, “for your electrical, and Mike's on your floor?”

Jordan smiled, “Yeah.”

The guest imitated a raspy voice, “Effing half points. I'm gonna kill the guy who came up with half points,” which made Jordan laugh. “Has he broken his streak and had a good night yet?”

“I told Kira,” and they took her hand, “I'm kind of in awe of his commitment to the Bulls despite never winning a single bet. I wish I could be that committed to something.”

Doug said, “You're keeping on him, right Champ? It's not your problem that…”

Kira rolled her eyes and the guest said, “Not to jump in, but he actually is good at his job, if he'd…”

Jordan interrupted him, laughing, “Stop betting, he'd be retired in two years. Dad, he's not a bad sub, just the world's worst gambler. Thank God, the websites don't take credit cards, but I have him under control.”

The guest smiled, “You're a fast learner. Next project I have with you guys, I'm going to ask for you, if that's ok.”

Kira squeezed their hand and then looked at Doug. “Yeah,” Jordan said, “I mean, thanks. I'd like to work with you too.”

“Your kid knows their stuff.” Jordan was still amazed at how everyone here just used they/them without stopping and starting, like it was nothing.

Doug put his arm around them, “I guess they do,” he smiled.
—
After dinner, Stef and Emily were talking to their grandmother. “So, Stephanie, how nervous are you?”

“Grandma, it's not like we haven't lived together already,” then, “I can't wait for it to finally be done.” This got a raised eyebrow. “I mean, yeah, of course I'm excited and I want everyone to have a great time but it's also like…”

Her grandmother laughed, “I was just playing, Steffie. I went through it once myself, and twice with your mother and aunt. Getting married is exciting, I didn’t want the weddings themselves to end, assuming the other side behaved themselves, dealing with tables and who likes who, thank goodness, I'm done with that. Emily, what about you?”

“What about me what? I'm just a bridesmaid.”

“Are you excited?”

Emily paused, unsure yet if she could trust her. Her heart said yes, her brain remembered the loneliness. Screw that, she thought. “I am, I really am. The dress is really pretty and I've never been a bridesmaid before.”

“I'm sure you'll be perfect. And your mother showed me the picture of you in the dress, you look gorgeous.” She winked at Stef, “Second only to your sister.”

Emily took a breath. “Do you mean that? For real?”.

Her grandmother put her hands on Emily's upper arms. “The outside finally matches the inside,” then, “I told you yesterday, you are, were and will always be my granddaughter. I made a…no, I was wrong, absolutely wrong, I know you don't want to go there and I understand. Just know something, you are my granddaughter and if anyone ever hurts you, they will deal with me, trust me.”

I hope I can, she thought.

—
Jordan and Kira lay in the afterglow.

“That was a lot of fun tonight,” Kira said, “Jared's parents are so much cooler than mine.”

That's because they're not yours, they thought. Then, “They are. I like that we just were, there, y’know.”

Kira leaned over. “What do you mean ‘were’?”

Jordan thought about how to answer. “Like we were just like every other couple. No one thought twice about it.”

Kira laughed, “You know we've been legal since 2015, right? Why should they treat us differently?”

“They shouldn't. I'm just…”

Kira read their mind. “They are assholes, homophobic, transphobic assholes, but guess what? Who cares? We don't have to deal with them tomorrow. We'll hang out with Jared's side or their friends or whoever.”

Jordan felt their blood pressure rise and then took a breath, “I know, it's just, I can't explain it.”

Kira looked at them, “You don't work with them. You don't live near them. You don't have to deal with them, except maybe holidays and then just ignore them. You're not him.”

Jordan remembered how their mother used to wield that like a sword against them, whenever they failed to live up to her expectations, a moving target they they always missed. “I know that, it's just…”

“It's not just anything, pookie. You're not him, you're not her, you're you,” then laughing, “Em’s her, it's funny.”

Jordan laughed, “Now that she's not in bitch mode,” for now, “you totally see it. Mia calls her little Laura,” then, “I'm worried.”

Kira sighed, “Me too, but we'll be with her and your parents and Liam and Rob and everyone. If I see her get up to go to the bathroom, I'll go with her. Or Jeannie or someone.”

“I hate that…”

Kira ran her fingers through Jordan's fresh buzz, the one even grandma said looked good. “So do I but we can stop them from doing something, we can't stop them from being something. My mom always says that.”

Jordan let out a breath through the”o” of their mouth, “I guess so.”

“I know you want to figure out an answer but there isn't one other than to watch,” then, “who's getting the most trashed?”

They resented the judgment inherent in that. Their cousins were assholes but they still felt judged. Sorry, we can't all be rich and happy like you and Jared, but we're still people, even as they knew their extended family wouldn't reciprocate. “I dunno, probably P.J. or the thot. You know what,” and they paused, choosing their words with care, landing on, “I don't care. You're right, they're them and they're gonna do what they're gonna do. It's not even worth thinking about.”

Kira nodded and smiled, “You're right,” then, “Arden's so funny, so harsh, but so funny.”

They laughed, “I like her and Stef’s college friends. Her friends from home were total stupid bitches,” remembering especially Katie, who called them, ‘him,’ like it was an insult. “I'm just glad none of them were invited,” then, “I'm so happy you're here.”

“Was there ever a chance I wouldn't be,” she teased.

Jordan played with her hair, “I thought about my options.”

She kissed their lips, “True, you could've brought Ronnie or other Kayla, I know how much you like her.”

“That's why I took you,” and they kissed her back, “I mean Ronnie would've made their heads explode, which would've been lit, but I love you and so I figured why not?”

Kira rolled her eyes. “Goodnight, Jordan,” and she kissed them again.

—--

Stef sat on Emily's bed, cross legged, in shorts and a faded Bears t-shirt. “Damn.”

Arden looked at her, “Intellectually, I mean, we knew it would happen eventually, but, yup, 24 hours from now...”

Emily looked at them, “Come on! You guys are amazing together,” then, “are you nervous?”

Stef smiled at her baby sister, her eyes shining with hope, “I'm not nervous, Ems, just more like, huh, this is really happening, like 12 hours from now, we'll all be getting ready and all that.”

Em looked at her, “Uh huh? You love Jared and he loves you, that's all that matters.”

Arden gave her a smile, “You're such a romantic, are you sure you're related? Kidding. I'm just busting on her. She knows how much I love Jared. But still, it's more like well another check off the adult list,” which made Stef laugh. “Do you think Jared's talking about this?”

Stef laughed, “Alex is probably passed out, and Vish would have to stop talking about himself…”

“Why did you put me with him then? He's awful.”

“Because Brooke called Brett, sorry,” she laughed. “He's actually not a total dick.”

Em laughed, “Brooke said he's not the worst person, you say he's not a total dick, wow,” then, “it's fine. It's not like you're setting us up. Like Ar and Alex,” and she grinned, which got a pillow thrown at her.

“Did you guys like your presents?” Stef had bought everyone bracelets with “SN & JG” and the date on a charm.

“They were great,” and Emily looked at her wrist. “I'm so excited for tomorrow.” Stef and Arden smiled at each other. “What?”

Arden laughed, “I don't know about your sister, but I'm just remembering the first time you came to Ann Arbor. It was so cute how nervous you were. What I remember is telling you not to wear the mini to that frat party, you couldn't look like a try-hard.”

Stef, imitating her younger sister, “But I look really cute!”

“I did!”

“And that guy, Brendan…”

“Brian, his name was Brian…”

Arden laughed, “Brian seemed totally fine with you in jeans, he kept checking out your ass.”

Emily remembered the sophomore who picked her up in the airport and invited them to a frat party, how nervous she was that he'd realize who she was, but he didn't and it gave her a glimmer of hope, of normality. “Stop…” She played with the collar on the big Blackhawks t-shirt Duncan had let her wear, that hung to her knees and that she stole when she visited him. It was bittersweet but she would curl up her knees under it and remember how it was.

“Teasing, Emmy,” Stef laughed, “but you were totally flirting with him all night, the way you’d smile and get all giggly. I was like, ‘I guess she's been paying attention.’”

Em gave a sly smile, “Not all night, I mean I did make out with him.”

Arden gave her a high five, then, “Oh yeah, we totally saw you.”

“Why didn't you say anything?”

Stef looked at her, “I was watching my baby sister grow up, and you were so happy, I wouldn't tease you,” then, laughing, “So how was he?”

Em laughed, “There's a reason we fell out of touch.”

Stef yawned, “I'm gonna go to my room and sleep.”

Em looked at her, “I can sleep in your room, if you want to stay here.”

Stef kissed her cheek, “I'm right through that door,” they had gotten adjoining rooms, “if I need you, you'll know.”

Em gave her a big hug. “You're the best big sister, I love you and I love Jared and I'm so, so excited for tomorrow.”

Arden looked at a Stef and winked, “I think she's more excited than you.”

“No! Shut up, Arden!”

Stef thought about playing. “I love you, Emmy. I'm excited too.”

—

Emily Berrigan is a 23 year old transwoman who hasn't seen her twin in six years. Why? Because her parents threw her out when she told them who she really was. Now, her older sister Stephanie is getting married and wants Emily there - as a bridesmaid. Will sparks fly?

Stephanie is married. Will everyone live happily after? I know it’s been a while since I posted. Don’t you hate when real life gets in the way?
——

The wedding was winding down and Emily, Stef, Jordan and Liam stood waiting. “I dunno,” Jordan said to Liam, “they said come here, so I came.”

“Your dad told me there was a big surprise,” Em said, “but he wouldn't say what.”

“Why didn't you say something?” Jordan looked annoyed.

“I assumed dad told you, sorry. Anyway, what do you think it is?”

Stef stood smiling. “Do you know something? You know something! I can't believe you know something and didn't tell me, us!”

Before Stef could answer, Uncle Rob and her father came over, her father saying, “So, I bet you're all wondering why we called you here.”

Before anyone could say anything, he continued, “Well, you all know how busy Rob has been since he got over the wall,” which made him laugh.

Rob took over. “And your dad said to himself, ‘he's doing really well, I bet I could mess that up if I really tried…’”

“So, we decided to give it a shot. We figured I was much better at actually doing real work and so I would be the guy managing projects while Rob here will do what he's always been best at, BSing people while other people actually got dirty.”

Liam looked at them, “So Uncle Doug is gonna work for you?”

Rob laughed, “No, no, no. I like my employees happy and I can't afford to have him mess that up. Seriously though, and Stef helped us figure it out, he's going to provide project management services through a joint venture agreement.”

Emily and Jordan looked at Stef. “You knew about this?” Jordan said.

“And didn't tell us?” Em added.

Stef smiled, “Attorney-client privilege. I couldn't.”

“I can't believe you. You knew this and you didn't tell us.”

Uncle Rob laughed, “Here's where you say congratulations, that's amazing, something like that.”

Em smiled, “Ohmigosh, I'm so sorry. This is so amazing. Does this mean you'll be coming out too?” She hugged both of them and heard snickering. Go home, she thought, you made your appearance, go home.

Her father smiled, “Eventually. Right now, I'm going to handle here and Wisconsin. Once I decide it's working, I'll let Rob know and then I'll come out.”

Rob rolled his eyes. “Eventually, I'll bring him out, see how his charm works in California.”

Liam looked at them, “So when are you telling them?”

Doug smiled, “We have a meeting,” the word dripping with scorn, “Monday night. I think Monday night is a perfect night fordropping bombs.”

Jordan grinned, “You know, project management in the real world is not the same as a family business. There are different expectations. Are you sure you're up for it?”

“Shut up, Jor,” Stef laughed, “it's going to be great. They got great legal advice. If they fail, they have no one to blame but themselves.” Everyone laughed. “Please film them when you tell them…or at least record it,” then, “we're all really proud and excited, you know that.”

Her dad kissed her on the head. “Thanks, Steffie. Now all of you go back to whatever. They're looking over here.”

Emily looked at him. “I am really proud of you too.”

She could her father pause for a second, willing himself not to look back. Then, he kissed her on the forehead.
—
Stephanie was finally able to sit for a few minutes, having spent her day going from table to table, she and Jared being reminded that, ‘the last time I saw you, you were four.’ Uh huh, OK, I don’t remember you but whatever, she’d think, then put on a fake smile, ‘Well, I’m so glad you made it today. Thanks for sharing our special day,’ people I will never see again.

She kicked off her shoes when Uncle Rob and Aunt Jeannie came over. “Mind if we sit?”. Stef smiled and spread her arms.

Jeannie looked at her feet, “I remember that feeling. They look really good but by the end, all you want is them off.”

Stef laughed, “Oh yeah. I’m glad I brought tennis shoes for the afterparty. Anyway, I’m so glad you were here.”

Uncle Rob laughed, “Like we would miss it, like we’d be allowed to miss it,” then, seriously, "Thank you.”

Stef smiled, “For what? I wasn’t going to invite you? Oh, you mean, for the legal work? Anything to get him away from them…”

Rob looked at her. “No, although thanks for that too. You know what.”

It took Stef a second, “No.”

“No?” Aunt Jeannie said.

“Yeah, no. I should be thanking you, so thank you.”

Rob put his hand on her shoulder. “No, Stef. Thank you. She’s who she is because of what you did for her.”

“Whatever, fine, sure, but you guys have been really amazing to her, for all of us. You got them back together.”

Rob laughed and looked over at Emmy, deep in conversation with Max, a friend of Stef’s who had taken Em to an acting class at Michigan, the first time she ever said out loud that her pronouns were ‘she’ and ‘her.’ “Nope, that’s you.”

She laughed, “Because I stopped talking to her?”

“No. Because you made her able to stand up to her.”

Stef felt herself get warm. “Fine, we should all be thanking each other and my parents should be thanking us,” she laughed. “Deal?”

“Fine,” Jeannie said. “More importantly, thank you for seating us with normal people,” Stef put them at a table with some of Jared’s parents’ friends and cousins.

“Please,” she laughed, “it was the least I could do for you.” Just then, her cousin Kevin’s girlfriend staggered past Emmy and Max. Stef could see her mouth ‘fags,’ and felt her blood boiling.

Uncle Rob looked at Stef. “Kev better put a ring on that. Prize like her is going to get snapped up if he doesn’t do something soon,” then, “asshole ground zero, you know.”

“How did we end up so normal?”

Jeannie looked at her and Rob. “If you two are normal, god help us.”
—
Emmy and Max were talking and Emmy looked at him. “So is the Disney Cruise job any good?”

Max, who had graduated from SMTD, Michigan’s theater school, was playing Lumiere on a Disney Cruise out of Orlando.

He sighed, “Well, the money is good and I’ve been all over the Caribbean. And you don’t work really except at night. It’s fine but it’s not exactly what I dreamed of.”

“Still,” Emmy said, “it pays.”

“I guess,” then a smile crossed his face, “now that no one else is here, did your mom seriously ask you about your boobs?” He knew what Emily's birth certificate originally said, Stef and Arden having told him, so that he'd keep a close eye on her when they went to class.

Emily started laughing, “I was like please tell me I’m hallucinating or I died and this is what happens.”

He kept grinning, “So?”

Emily laughed, “Max!” She paused, then laughed, “Hormones, genetics and luck. All mine.”

“And?” Now he was leering.

Now she was laughing harder. “Um, is this the first time you've ever wondered what’s in a pair of panties, Max? Anyway, snip, snip, bye bye.”

He smiled, “Good for you. I told you before, you look amazing.”

“Thanks. So do you.”

“Do you remember that guy on the Diag?” The guy in question was a frat boy, 6’3”, gorgeous and muscular, who probably would’ve killed them for looking at him.

Em smiled, “Oh yeah.”

“And you and that guy at the party? The one who swallowed your face, I heard.”

“You never kissed him,” she laughed. “You’re coming to the afterparty, right?”

“Of course.” Just then, Em’s cousin Trevor walked past and bumped her. ‘Oops, sorry,’ he snickered. “Please tell me they aren’t coming.”

“Stef would have a conniption if they did. Thankfully, they are going back under their rock now. I don’t know why they were here, except they thought they had to be. This is just the fun people. Stef says it’s a really cool place in Old Town, I’m excited.”

Just then, Arden walked over, “So what are you two talking about?”

“Well, we were talking about Emily’s lady parts at first, but then we were talking about you and Alex.”

Em laughed, “You’re right Max. They would make an absolutely adorable couple.”

“Oh, Alex, let me run my fingers through your Jewy hair.”

Arden laughed, “You need to stop hanging around him, Emmy. He’s a bad influence. He corrupted me,” memories of an SMTD party coming back to her, “and now he’s trying to corrupt you for his own immoral purposes.”

Just then, Stef came over. “What’s so funny?”

Before Em or Arden could speak, “Well, it’s not funny but the feral sexual passion between Arden and Alex. Quite frankly, when they were dancing that first dance like this,” and he took Emily and held her at arms length, “I, for one, had to drink some ice water.”

Stef looked at him and laughed, “I love you, Max. Anyway, I need Emmy and Arden to help me get out of this dress and into my afterparty dress. I’d invite you but I'm afraid that this,” and she waved her hands up and down herself, “might drive you to the other side and I'm married, y’know.”

They got into the bridal room and Emily unzipped Stef, who let the dress fall to the floor and then stepped carefully out of it. “Thanks, Ems. So you guys had a good time?”

Arden looked at her. “Yes, Mrs. Gauss, thank you for having me, Mrs. Gauss.”

Stef laughed, “Shut up. I’m serious. No drama?”

Em rolled her eyes, almost bringing up the bathroom and then stopping herself, “No more than I expected, y’know. Stupid comments here and there. It doesn’t matter, I’m hoping that’s the last time I ever see them.”

“You sure?”

Emily smiled, “I’m sure, Steffie. Anyway, where’s your other dress?” She looked around and opened up the garment bag. Inside was a white slip midi dress, and she took it out. “Am I like your lady in waiting or something?”

Stef looked at her. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Arden gave a chuckle. “What do you figure, if you wear white, people will buy you drinks or something?”

“I think it’s cute,” Emmy piped in. “Anyway, this was so much fun and it was so great to see Max and everyone.”

“I’m glad you had a good time. Seriously, there were no problems?”

Em debated what to say then decided Stef was entitled to silence, “No, I told you before. I used to let them get to me because I wanted them to like me. Now?” And she blew a raspberry.

Em began undressing, carefully hanging up her dress, then putting on a blue mini dress she had seen with her mother, and ballet flats. Stef smiled, remembering the first time Emmy wore a dress, how she stumbled in the heels for a few seconds before she took to them like a duck to water. “This looks good, right?”

Arden laughed, “Ohmigod, you really are little Laura, aren’t you?”

“Shut up! I am not.”

Just then, someone knocked on the door. “Mind if we come in?” It was her mother, grandmother and aunt. Her grandmother stopped, and looked between her daughters and Emily. “She is really your daughter, Laura.”

Arden laughed, “Told you.”

“K, stop,” Emmy said.

Laura looked Stef up and down and grinned, “I like this dress.”

Stef looked at Aunt Jackie, then smiled, “So this all stops tomorrow morning, right? I don’t know if I can handle all the compliments you’ve given me today, very confusing,” and then she kissed her mother on the cheek, “thanks, mom.”

“You’re welcome.” Then, Laura laughed, “See mom, that’s what you say.” She turned to her daughters and Arden, “Grandma Linda looked at me at my wedding and said, “I’m not sure I like your hair.’”

Jackie looked at them and winked. “I pulled a muscle holding her back. Anyway, Steffie, you looked absolutely gorgeous and this was perfect, even though,” and she smiled at her sister, “probably because you did it yourself.”

Her grandmother laughed, “That’s enough. We’ll let you finish getting ready.” She kissed both of her granddaughters, “You both looked gorgeous, you too Arden.”
—-------
As the wedding wound down, everyone was planning how to get to the afterparty back in Chicago.

“Can I go,” Liam asked.

Aunt Jeannie looked at him. “We’re not going. How do you plan to get back home?”

“I, uh,” and then he just grumbled.

Laura looked at Jeannie. “We can take him back tomorrow.” She and Doug weren’t coming to the afterparty but didn’t want to drive back after such a long day. “We’ll bring him back after breakfast.”

“Cool. Thanks Aunt Laura.”

Rob looked at him. “Where do you plan to stay?”
Jared and Alex were standing nearby. “He can crash with me,” Alex said, “since I think my roomie will be otherwise occupied,” and everyone laughed. “Sorry, Doug,” who just grinned and went ‘la la la.’

“Thanks, Alex.”

Rob looked at him. “You have a flight tomorrow, remember?” He was flying back to LA with Emily in the early afternoon.

“Grrr…fine. Thanks anyway, Alex.”

Rob winked at Jeannie, “Which is why we put your stuff in the car. Come and get it.”

Liam pumped his fist and went off to get his stuff with his father.

Emily, Stef and Arden came out. Jeannie looked at Emily, “I told Liam he could go to the afterparty. I don’t need to tell…”

Emily smiled, “Of course you don’t. I won’t let him get stupid, well, not too stupid.”

Jeannie kissed her. “Thanks, sweetie.”
—-
Jordan and Kira were standing hand in hand, waiting for the valet to pull around the truck and talking to Jared’s cousin. As the valet pulled up with the cousin's car, Jordan heard a ‘humph,’ from behind. They turned to face Aunt Karen and their cousin Kayla. “Hi, Aunt Karen. Did you have a good time?”

“First, your brother shows up in a dress and now,” and she looked down at Jordan and Kira holding hands.

“Mom,” Kayla mumbled, “stop.”

“No, I will not stop. Molly,” she sneered, “and Christopher embarrassed our family enough before and now this.”

Kira saw the vein in the side of Jordan's head pulsing and gripped their hand.

Kayla looked at them, “Sorry, Jordan.”

Jordan took a deep breath, “It's fine, Kayla,” then, “I'm sorry I haven't seen you the past couple of years. I hope it's nothing I said.”

Kayla laughed a little, and watched as Trev and P.J. stumbled out. She looked at her mother and raised her eyebrows.

“Are you two amusing yourselves? Because, Jordan, I imagine your father won't be amused Monday morning,” and she grinned.

Jordan took a deep breath, then another. “I don't follow.”

Now the grin turned evil. “I think you do. You and Christopher seem to think you can pretend to be whatever it is you think you are but, quite frankly, our family doesn't appreciate being embarrassed.” P.J. punctuated his aunt’s sentence by puking in a bush. “And that your father allowed it has made your grandfather question whether he should still be representing the company.” Kayla just mumbled, ‘Jesus, ma, you're unbelievable.’

The truck pulled up and Kira, glaring at Karen, said, “Let's just go, Jor.”

Jordan took another deep breath, then smiled. “That's really interesting, Aunt Karen. I mean, I know, for a fact, that his crews finish faster and more under budget than Uncle Kevin's or Uncle Pete's. I also know that last week, he had to go over to Bensenville and prevent Kev's framers from quitting because he's a jerk. And I know he kept that RFP open in Du Page after Uncle Pete started talking politics to the woman from the county,” and they held Kira’s hand, “and her wife. I'm also fairly sure that whatever decision was made was made the minute they saw Em and me, so nothing else that happened today really made a difference. Whatever will be, will be. My dad will land on his feet. If it was Uncle Kevin, I'm not so sure. Anyway, my truck is here, so it was great seeing you. Have a good night!”

They pulled away and Kira leaned over and kissed them, “I am so proud of you, Jor.”

Jordan exhaled and banged the steering wheel, “What a bitch! What a fucking bitch!”

“She is. But your dad is leaving…”

“That's not the point. Who the fuck does she think she is? It's not her company, she didn't do anything, it's the family's…”

“Jor, you know what? I hope your grandfather does say something and I hope, without your dad, the company goes bankrupt.”

Jordan felt their blood pressure go up and took three breaths the way the sports psychologist had taught them. “Don't say that. I don't want that.”

“Why not? After everything they've said and done?”

They resented the question, she didn't understand what it meant. “Because there's guys on the crew and women in the office and stuff who depend on the paycheck. Because whether my grandfather and all of them are assholes, those people work really hard and I don't want them to have to look for work, k?”

Kira looked down, then said, “Can I hope for a really bad accident on their way back? And your aunt really has to go to the bathroom, poop?”

Jordan laughed, “A really loose, wet one.”

“Are you twelve?”

“You started.”

“Anyway, I don't know who sold her that dress but they are not her friends. Her ass looked huge.”

Jordan laughed, “Don't blame the dress, my mom always says about her. It's just fabric. Her ass makes her ass look huge.”
—
The party was on the top floor of a three story bar in Old Town, the downstairs being open to the public. A DJ played music, and Emily worked up a sweat dancing with one of Jared’s college friends and then Brooke, Stef and Arden.
After an hour, Em wiped her forehead with a napkin and took a sip of her Moscow Mule, grateful for the flats, although her Nikes would have been better. Emily and Brooke went downstairs to get some cool air and to go to the bathroom.

They were leaving the bathroom when they heard, “Brooke?”

Brooke turned around, “Oh my god, Niamh! How are you?” She turned to Emily, “Emily, this is Niamh, she was best friends with my best friend Lily’s younger sister.”

Emily put out her hand, “Hi, I'm Emily Berrigan. I'm Brooke's, as of a few hours ago, sister-in-law. Are we sisters-in-law, or is Stef just your sister-in-law and Jared my brother-in-law? Well, anyway, my sister married her brother,” and the other two women laughed, “and it's great to meet you.”

Niamh smiled and said, ‘it's nice to meet you too,’ then, “What are you guys doing here?”

“The after party is upstairs, you can come up, have a drink. Anyway, what are you doing here?”

“It was my parents’ 30th, we went to dinner, they went home, my brother and I decided to hang out, we don't see each other, blah blah.”

Brooke nodded and said, “Where is he?”

Niamh shrugged, “I think he knows the owner from college or something.” Then, “Oh, there he is. Hey, Dunc, over here,” she waved.

Emily froze. She should have realized it. How many Niamhs could there be in Northbrook? He was wearing a blue button down shirt, tight in the shoulders, black khakis and boots.

Then, he saw her and smiled, “Of all the bars in Chicago...”.

She looked down and smiled. “Hey.”.

As Brooke was saying, ‘do you two know…’ Stef came down the stairs, “I was wondering what happ…” Then, she grinned. Fuck, Em thought, aren't you tired? Can't this be the one time you don't notice something?

Niamh grinned. “Hi, I'm Niamh Connell! You must be Stephanie! Congratulations,” then, to Duncan's hissed, ‘don't,’ “Oh, where are my manners? This is my brother, Duncan!”

Stef grinned cheesily, “This couldn't be…”

In an exaggeratedly happy voice, “Yes, it could!”

“Isn't this just such a great surprise? And on my wedding day, no less? Isn't this great, Emmy?” Emmy looked at Duncan, who looked like he wanted to burrow through the wall - after he killed his sister.

Brooke said, “Is there something here I'm missing?”

Before Em could speak, Niamh grinned, “Emily used to date my brother, when he was in LA!”
“Really? That's amazing!”

Emily, in an effort to gain some control, came up with, “Niamh is applying to med school.”

Stef, in a faux-shocked voice, “That is unbelievable! My maid of honor, Arden, is in residency!”

Brooke, now grinning too, “And Jared's best man is doing an oncology fellowship!” Traitor, Emily thought.

Niamh kept grinning, while Duncan contemplated death - hers or his, it didn't matter, “This is a really big ask, especially at your wedding, and of course you can say no, but do you think…”

Stef looked at Emily, “You could talk to Arden and Alex? Of course! I know,” and she grinned at Em, “Arden would love to talk shop.”

“And Alex would be angry if he didn't get to meet you too. Right, Stef?” Brooke added.

Niamh looked at Duncan, who kept muttering, ‘dead, you are dead,’ and said, “We don't want to bore you guys though, so we'll just go upstairs. Come up whenever.” Em had never heard ‘whenever,’ said with a leer.

The three women went upstairs, giggling. Duncan rolled his eyes, “Subtle. Very subtle.”

Em smiled softly, “I don't care about them. How have you been? How's the restaurant?”

“Busy, really busy. It's work, sleep, work sleep.” He took her hand and she felt his calluses rubbing her palm and smiled.

Em took a breath, “Are you seeing anyone?” Please say no.

“Nope,” he smiled, “You?”

“Nope. Not me either.”

“That's good. I mean, unless you want to.”

She moved closer to him and looked up at him, “Not yes, not no.”

He put his hands on her hips. “Is this ok?” She just smiled and put her hands on his shoulders.

“I've missed you,” he said.

“Me too, I mean I've missed you too.” She had almost forgotten how kind his eyes were.

“So, I'm going to kiss you, if that's ok.” She nodded and leaned in, as he opened her mouth with his tongue. Tongues intertwined, they kissed for an eternity.

When they pulled apart, she looked at him. “God, I've missed that,” then kicked herself for being so open.

“Me too,” then, “I saw your commercial.”

She couldn't imagine where, since his network TV consumption consisted of sports. “Where?”

“In the TV over the bar at lunch. You were really good. I totally believed you as a waitress.”

“Ha ha. Anyway, so how's being sous chef?”

“Like I said, busy. But I'm getting involved in all facets of the business.”

“Do you think your finance degree helps?”

“In pulling apart two angry dishwashers?” He laughed.

“Shut UP, I meant on the business side,” then, “anyway, I'm going to kiss you again…if that's ok.” He pulled her in and the world faded away, leaving only them.

They just kept staring at each other, until they heard, ‘ahem.’ Em turned around to face Arden. She glared at her. Take the hint, she hopefully said with her eyes.

She failed. “Hi, I'm Dr. Arden Winnick. I just had to come down here and tell you how great your sister is.”

Duncan looked at her. “Uh huh. That's great, thanks for talking to her.”

Emily kept staring at her, wondering where sisterhood was. Clearly not here, since she was. “Yup, Niamh is great, thank you for coming down to tell him, you don't want to be rude to her and stay too long here.”

Arden leaned on the bannister and smirked, “Aren't you going to introduce us? I know your mom raised you better than that.”

Emily sighed. “Duncan Connell, Arden Winnick, Arden, Duncan. Arden was Stef’s maid of honor and is like another sister.”

He smiled and put out his hand, “Hi, it's great to meet you. Emily always said how great you were.”

“Mmm hmmm.” Arden kept smiling.

“Is there something else?” Besides getting in my way, Emily thought.

She came over and whispered in Emily's ear, “I'll leave you alone and keep Max away.” Max wouldn't block me like that, Emily thought.

As Arden went back upstairs, Duncan looked at her, “So how did it go with your parents?” She could see him tense up and it made her smile.

“We're better now. I actually speak to them kinda regularly and everything.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, my dad actually came around first. Think he knows how fucked up his family is and didn't want that for us. And she's apparently been seeing a shrink and dealing with all this.”

“That's really good.” His eyes widened, “They're not here, are they? Or your aunt and uncle, right?”

She laughed, “Relax, don't worry. My parents are at the hotel, and my aunt and uncle are back in Dekalb. Liam and Jordan are upstairs but they, unlike some people, won't come down here.” She paused, “Why don't we move away from here, just in case?”

They found a corner and Duncan smiled, “Where were we?”

“Hmmm, I think we were discussing movies.” He shook his head. “Music?” He shook his head again. “Not sports, yuck,” she giggled. He put his hands around her waist. “My goodness, do you think I'm the sort of girl who would just kiss some random guy in a bar?”

“Yup.”

“Well, I never…Have to start sometime, though.” They kissed again, his hands on her ass. He backed her up onto the wall.

She saw a man come over and tap Duncan on the shoulder, and she felt her face flush. The man smiled, “Hey, Dunc, you can use my office if you want.”

“Thanks. Oh, Emily, this is Brendan, we went to ND together, Brendan, this is Emily, we, umm, know each other from LA.” Brendan rolled his eyes at Emily. “I mean, we were dating before I moved to Santa Barbara.”

Emily stuck out her hand. “Hi, I love this place.”

Brendan laughed, “Thank you. Why don't I show you my office? It's really my favorite place here, I hope, heh heh, you like it too,” which precipitated a punch to his arm from Duncan.

He took them to the office, and closed the door. “I'm so embarrassed,” she said.

“Why?”

“Because he saw us and he took us here and now he knows…”

Duncan kissed her. “You were saying?”

She kissed him back, hard. She could feel his hands through the fabric, as he grabbed her ass. She stuck her hands down the back of his pants, and felt his ass. Then, she moved them to the front, pausing at his zipper.

He smiled, “Are you sure?”

She grinned, “I started, remember?”

“I just thought…”

“Don’t think,” she said, never taking her eyes off his, as she unbuttoned his pants and pulled down his underwear. “Oh, look who came to visit…” She began massaging it with her hand and could feel it pulsating.

She started to drop to her knees, when Duncan stopped her. “Lay back on the desk.”

Her eyes widened, “Are you sure?”

“Do you not want to?”

She laid back on the desk and he pulled her panties down. He kissed her deeply, his hands now under her dress. She felt the calluses against her smooth skin and her body tingled. He kissed her stomach, then moved down, his tongue flicking. If she ever worried how good the surgery was, her fears were allayed.

“Now!” She commanded.

He began pumping and she felt connected to him, each of them moaning. She felt his dick twitch, and then him cum. She looked around and saw a box of tissues, gratefully taking some and handing him the box, each wiping themselves as clean as possible, Emily knowing she’d be peeing shortly.

Duncan kissed her neck and she shivered. “That was amazing. Did you cum?”

She nodded, then laughed, “Did you?” The old jokes returned.

“Nope. I faked it.”

She nodded, a grim look on her face, “That’s really too bad.”

“It is. So, was this the highlight of the day,” he laughed.

“I mean, my first time as a bridesmaid and I’m a slutty one, so yeah,” she said, as she pulled up her panties. She turned around, “How wrinkled am I?”

“Not too bad,” and he began rubbing his hands down her back. “Let me press them out.”

“Stop that!” Don’t stop that, she thought, don’t ever stop that. “If you keep doing that…” He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, well, I have to get back upstairs. Do you wanna come with me?”

“Do you want me to?”

She paused. On the one hand, she wanted to take his hand and never let go. On the other hand, everyone would know. On the other other hand, who was she kidding? They knew. “Yeah. I mean, if you want to.”

He turned a little red, “I don’t want to be embarrassed, I mean embarrass you.”

“You never embarrass me,” and she paused, “besides, I’m already mortified from before. You may as well get a free drink out of it.”

They walked upstairs, hand in hand, dreading what was to come. She was greeted by Max, who whispered in her ear, ‘nice.’ “Max, this is Duncan, we, uh, know each other from California.”

“I’ve heard,” he laughed, sticking out his hand.

“Max Basner.”

Duncan smiled, “Duncan Connell. Wait, you’re the guy who took Emily to an acting class, right?”

Emily looked at him. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“Em said it was a big deal, how nice you were to her.”

Max looked almost humbled. “It wasn’t that a big deal. I love Emmy.” Then, regaining his bearings, “And what are your intentions with our Emily?”

Duncan fumbled for an answer and then Liam and Jordan came over, laughing. Jordan looked at Max, “OK, Max. You’ve had your fun.” They stuck out their hand, “Hi, I’m Jordan.”

“Duncan. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Jordan looked at Em and then smiled, “Me too. You went to that snotty little rich kid school, right?” Liam laughed, thinking of his father.

“And you went to that cow college in the middle of nowhere? Anyway, it’s great to meet you.”

“Same.” Em marveled at how well they immediately got along.

Duncan looked at Liam, “And you’re Liam, right?”
Em laughed a little as Liam tried to make himself seem bigger. “Hey.”

“Hey. How are you liking UCLA?”

“I mean, it’s always 70 there, and it’s not 70 here.”

“True that.” Em stood back as Liam, Jordan and Duncan began discussing college football, smiling at the parts of her life merging. She wandered over to Stephanie, who was talking to one of her friends.

Stef rubbed Em’s shoulder and smiled, “So?”

Em just smiled. The friend held out her fist and Em bumped it.

“I didn't mean to leave the party for so long.”

Stef and her friend laughed, “Emmy, it's fine. It's more than fine,” then, with a sly smile, she turned to her friend, “He is so Emmy’s type.”

The friend looked at her, “You like them big, huh?”

Before Em could speak, Stef offered, “Yup, big, dark haired and light eyes. Always has, except…”

“Why is everyone in this family so fixated on that?” She turned to the friend, “Stef is talking about my alleged crush on one of our neighbors when I was a kid.”

Stef laughed, “You know the expression, ‘don't try so hard.’” She pointed at Em, “Exhibit A.” Then, she watched as Jared walked over to Duncan and them, how they were all smiling and talking. She looked at her baby sister grinning, and smiled and nodded.
—-
The party wound down a couple of hours later and Stef and Jared got an Uber back to the hotel.
“I can’t believe we’re married,” Stef laughed.

Jared smiled and took her hand. “We are, and I’m so happy we are,” and he leaned over and kissed her deeply.

“Me too,” she smiled. “It really was an amazing day, y’know.”

“Yeah.”

“I mean I was never one of those girls,” and he raised an eyebrow. “No, I mean I wanted to marry you but I was never one of those girls who dreamed about her wedding day or anything.”

He smiled, “And..”

“And,” and she kissed him, “it was perfect, amazing, everything went perfectly, no drama.”

Jared had heard about the bathroom and P.J. puking in the bushes (‘One of Stef’s cousins chucked,’ Alex said, laughing) and decided not to say anything. Em seemed fine and Stef didn’t need that today. “Yup. Not my aunt, not…anyone. Just you and me.”

You and me, Stef thought. You and me…and she smiled, and rested against Jared.
—
Emily woke up the next morning, head pounding from the long day, the alcohol and the lack of food, but still smiling from ear to ear.

She showered and put on her blue sweater, over a white t-shirt, jeans and her Nikes, ready to travel. She started to brush her hair and then decided, ‘screw it’ and pulled it into a ponytail.
She began packing her suitcase on Arden’s bed, Arden having taken the earliest flight possible (‘I was gone for three days and that’s gonna cost me’). She finished packing and went downstairs to get a quick breakfast with her parents and Liam.

“Good morning, sweetie,” her mother said, as she kissed her cheek. “When did everything wind down last night?”

“1:30 or so?”

She laughed, then, “Anything interesting happen?”

Em got nervous that someone told her. Then, she remembered that Stef was on a plane to Hawaii, and Arden got up too early, and Jordan and Keek would never. “No, just a lot of fun.”

“That's good. Are you ok from, y’know, the bathroom and everything?”

“I'll tell you what I told everyone. I'm fine. They behaved exactly as I expected and as far as I’m concerned, that’s the last time I’m gonna see them. So I don’t even wanna talk about them. Sorry.”

“Don't apologize. You have nothing to apologize for, I'm just glad you're ok. By the way, I'll say it again, you looked gorgeous.”

Emily smiled and tried not to shrug. “Thanks.”
“And you were right about my dress.” Emily had suggested a floor length A-line chiffon dress with beading at the neckline, “even Jared's witch of an aunt complimented me, and she sounded almost sincere,” she laughed.

“You really looked beautiful.”

“Thank you, and thank you again for letting us back in.”

“K, stop, I mean it. We're here now, let's just stay here or go forward. It was bad enough you all made fun of me about Jamie,” she laughed.

“I'd apologize but nah. You two were so adorable. I only wish you could've been in the wedding instead of Jordan, I know they do.”

Emily laughed, “Oh yeah,” then, “do you remember that awful dress you made them wear to the rehearsal? Did you do that on purpose because they wouldn't go shopping?”

Her mother smiled, “Not totally on purpose but could you ever see them in a cute party dress? You, yes, I'm sure you would've looked beautiful, especially in that dress you picked for Megan. ‘She says that I have great taste in clothes, that's good, right?’ What were you thinking?”

Emily smiled, remembering the mini dress, black, ladder back, with little sequins. “I don't know. Anyway…”

Just then, her dad came in and kissed her on the cheek without flinching. “Hey, Emmy, good morning. Did you have fun yesterday?”

“It was amazing. It was so much fun being in the wedding and everything…sorry if that's weird.”

He looked at her, “Why would that be weird?” Her mother excused herself to check on the table.

“I just thought…I know I said I wasn't going backwards but…”

“But, nothing. You're my, our daughter, you always were. Why wouldn't you like being a bridesmaid?”

“I just…”

He held up his hand. “One last time. I'm your father and you're my daughter. That's it. One day, when you get married, if you'll let me, I'll walk you down the aisle too,” then, laughing, “but will you please let your mother see stuff more than once? Your sister drives her nuts, which means she drives me nuts. Ok?”

She smiled, “I will…but not if she gets too annoying.”

He smiled a sly smile, “Define ‘too.’ Shhh, she's coming.”

Her mother came back and looked at them.

“What?”

“What what, honey?”

She looked at Emmy. “You're an actress? Whatever you're hiding is all over your face.”

“Nothing. Dad’s just marrying me off. I'd like a boyfriend first, if that's ok.” Her father made a growling noise then smiled.
—
Emily and Liam went through TSA and then to the gate.

She looked at him, in his blue UCLA sweatshirt and jeans, his size 13 red and white Jordan 1s making his feet look even bigger. They got coffee at Starbucks and then found a place to sit.

“Did you have a good time, Lee?”

He grinned. “ Yeah. Not as good as yours, though.”

“Shut up,” she laughed, “I’m gonna have to listen to Stef and Jordy, I thought you were on my side.”

He smiled, “I am but like you wouldn’t do the same to me?”

“That’s totally different,” she kept laughing.
Liam just smiled, “I like him. He’s cool.”

“He liked you too.”

“You two back together?”

She smiled and shrugged, “He’s still in Santa Barbara but we’ll see, y’know. You didn’t say anything to your mom, did you?”

He looked offended. “I wouldn’t do that, besides you will, I’m sure.”

Emily felt her face flush, “Shut up.”

“Everything's good with your mom and dad and them?”

Emily shrugged, thinking about the weekend. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“No one was too bad to you yesterday, were they?”

Em held up her hand, “You know what? They're the same them they always were. The difference is we don't have to deal with them, if we don't want to.”

He smiled and put his arm around her. “Think we're done with holidays now?”

“Pretty sure I'm not getting invited. Oh well…”

“Think I can get out of it?”

“Pretty sure your mom's done with them, which means your dad doesn't get a choice, not that I think he wants one, y’know.”

He laughed, “I'm sure.” He looked around. “My dad says I'm supposed to check your brakes.”

She groaned, “I told him like twice that I got them fixed.”

“I know, I told him too and he told me to check anyway.”

“If you drive, then I'm gonna have to spend like ten minutes fixing my mirrors and stuff after. Just tell him you checked them.”

He smiled, “Just let me do it and then he'll leave both of us alone.”

She laughed, “Fine.”

She took out her phone, then stopped and looked around the airport. For the first time, she was going home knowing that she could come back.