“Come with me for a second?” She tilted her head down the hall toward a closed doorway I’d assumed was her bedroom. “There’s something I want to show you.”
Behind us, Ethan exclaimed as he found an Xbox and PlayStation hidden in the console under the TV.
With a glance back at the living room, I lowered my voice and followed her away from the main part of the house. “You can’t buy his love, you know.”
“I know,” she said. “But I didn’t know what he liked and… I guess I was trying to buy his love. Sorry.”
There it was again. The long “o” in “sorry.” Even with my eyes closed, there was no denying how things had changed.
“It’s okay, I guess. Just, in the future, run any big purchases by me? He doesn’t need dozens of video games or a giant TV or tickets in the first row of sporting events or weekends at Disney World or anything like that.”
What he needed was a father who cared about him. Or another mother. A second parent, by any name. I didn’t have to say it. My unspoken words hung in the air like icicles between us.
At the end of the hall, Christa opened a door. Her room smelled like apples, but underneath it was a scent I recognized, the smell that lingered in the T-shirt I slept with for six months after 9/11. I waited in the door while Christa walked around the bed, to a nightstand on the far side.
This room was the first one in the house that didn’t look absolutely perfect. A tangle of mussed sheets lay across the bed, reminding me of how much Brett used to fidget in his sleep. I’d forgotten.
She opened a drawer and retrieved something before returning to the doorway. “For the past eighteen years, I have slept with this next to me every night. When I’ve needed comfort or felt alone, I held this and thought of you. I may have left you physically, but you have always been in my heart. I never wanted to hurt you. Running away was something I had to do for myself, and I will always regret how much I hurt you.”
Without looking, I knew what she held: the pocket square I made the day before she left. A piece of my wedding dress, significantly more tattered than the last time I saw it. For the first time, I started to think about what I’d found in Christa, rather than what I’d lost in Brett. Something inside me broke, and I dropped onto the bed, silent tears streaming down my cheeks.
“I’ve missed you so much.” My sobs muffled the words, but she got it.
“I missed you, too. Every minute of every day.”
She offered me the square, but I waved my hand, not wanting to dirty it.
“Thanks.” I kissed her cheek and wiped my eyes with one finger.
Our eyes met, and the remaining awkwardness between us evaporated. I saw something in her face that made my heart skip a beat. So many changes, but the eyes weren’t one of them.
When I stared into Christa’s eyes, I still saw my best friend, the only person I’d ever loved romantically. Her pupils dilated. Flustered, I moistened my lips with my tongue and looked at the ground.
Ethan’s voice from the living room startled me, and I moved away, toward the door.
“Hey, Mom, come look at this backyard!”
“Be right there, honey.” To my own ears, my voice sounded thick. Wrong. Hopefully, he wouldn’t notice.
Christa ran one hand through her hair but seemed fine. Maybe she hadn’t noticed anything weird. It could’ve been stress or my imagination. She headed through the dining room. I trailed behind her, wondering what just passed between us.
∞ ♡ ∞
Christa
Wednesday night passed uneventfully, with Jess volunteering to do the dishes after dinner and me finding myself sitting cross-legged on the floor while Ethan played video games beside me. He seemed easier with me than I expected, but maybe that was because he didn’t really see me as a parental figure.
Or maybe it’s because I bought pizza for dinner and had his favorite video games on hand. Having once been a seventeen-year-old boy, I prepared pretty well for this visit. Even if on some level, I’d known I was trying to buy his love before Jess pointed it out. I’d missed a lot of birthday and Christmas presents, after all. What harm could buying him a PS4 do? And an Xbox? He seemed happy with them.
Most of Thursday morning was taken up with preparation for dinner. After going to pick up doughnuts and coffee (and one soy hot cocoa) for breakfast, I spent most of the day in the kitchen, preparing the turkey and stuffing and mashed potatoes and bread and mashed turnip. Jess popped in to help a couple of times when she got tired of watching her son play video games.
As the day passed, our bodies fell into old routines our minds had forgotten. We moved more and more easily around each other until we rotated in each other’s orbits much the way we did in college. Then, we’d been making Kraft Dinner together, mostly, or Chicken Helper. My cooking skills had improved considerably since I moved to the outskirts of a resort town, miles from the nearest real city, where fast-food restaurants were practically unheard of. But that was where Henny and Val had friends who gave me a job, so that’s where I landed.
We didn’t talk much while getting things ready, but as soon as the food was on the table, Ethan turned to me with the air of someone who’d been waving his hand at the teacher for twenty minutes and finally got called on to ask his question.
“So, you’ve known Mom for like twenty-five years, right?” he asked.
“I met her when she was fourteen.” I wondered where this was going. Should I point out that I’d been MIA for a huge chunk of that time? Probably not. Instead, I sipped my wine and waited.
“So, you know how old she is now?” Ethan asked. “Because she’s sworn up and down that she’s twenty-nine for at least five years now.”
A guffaw of laughter escaped me. Beside me, Jess choked on her water. Ethan kept glancing between us while we composed ourselves.
“Don’t you dare,” Jess said.
I turned to Ethan. “How old do you think I am?”
He studied my face for a minute. “Well, you wear a lot of makeup, and it’s mostly old ladies who do that, right? So you’re like fifty?”
Jess choked on a laugh, and I glared at her. “Did you put him up to that?”
“I swear I didn’t.”
“No, I’m not fifty. I am actually younger than your mother over there.”
“You shush,” Jess said.
“No way!” Ethan said at the same time.
“Yes, way. Your mother’s birthday is in August, and mine’s in December. We were born the same year. And your mother is—”
“—I know things about you, too,” Jess said, brandishing a roll threateningly at me. “Like how you only got the nerve to ask me out because you didn’t want me to date anyone else.”
“Is that more embarrassing than the time you farted while on top of the pyramid at the Homecoming game?”
“I DID NOT!” She shrieked, throwing a piece of bread at my face. “That was Clara Chen and you know it.”
Instead of answering, I lifted both hands to my mouth and made the loudest farting noise I could.
Ethan snorted and laughed so hard, he fell off his chair. Jess’s efforts to pick him up only made him laugh harder. She sighed in fake exasperation before her shoulders started shaking, too.
Hiding my own smile, I went into the kitchen to refill my wine glass and grab more rolls. This first holiday dinner together as a family of sorts was coming along better than I ever could’ve imagined. Sure, it was a bit awkward at first. But Jess and I had spent weeks video chatting, catching up, her filling me on things I needed to know like Ethan’s lactose intolerance and me reassuring Jess for the fifteen thousandth time that I wouldn’t be upset if she stayed at a hotel, but I had plenty of room, and I didn’t expect her to sleep with me.
You didn’t just run into someone you hadn’t seen in eighteen years and jump into bed with them. Especially not when one of you had changed genitalia.
Not that I’d mind if she wanted to curl up next to me. When I first left, I ached
so much to have her beside me, I couldn’t sleep. Dating wasn’t easy when you’re trans, especially while in the process. I’d had lovers since we parted, but none of them had tugged at my heart the way Jess did. Nothing would make me happier than to take her into my arms and kiss away all the pain I’d caused.
But she’d probably slap me in the face. And she’d be right to. She couldn’t possibly love me anymore. I didn’t deserve her, not after everything I put her through. Plus, marriages broke up all the time when one spouse’s body changed after they got married. Our head housekeeper’s husband left because she gained forty pounds. There was no reason to think Jess would be attracted to the person I’d become.
“Everything okay?” Jess asked from the doorway. “Need any help?”
Things had been going so well, I couldn’t let these melancholy thoughts spoil an otherwise perfect evening. With luck, Jess and I could one day be friends again. That was all I had a right to ask for. I didn’t even know if she was seeing anyone, and it wasn’t my place to ask. She might guess I had feelings for her, and she’d get all flustered because she didn’t return them. She’d pull back. Then she’d take Ethan back to Boston and I wouldn’t see them again unless I sued for custody. I couldn’t let that happen.
I ignored her first question and answered the second. “I was planning to dish up dessert in here, but I don’t have enough hands to carry everything. If you don’t mind grabbing the non-dairy whipped topping from the fridge while I cut the pie, we can both carry it into the dining room.”
“Non-dairy? I can’t believe you remembered.” She popped onto her toes and kissed my cheek on her way to the fridge. My face burned, and I turned my attention to the pie so she couldn’t see how that tiny contact got me so flustered.
“Of course I remembered. He’s my son.”
Jess rooted around in the fridge for a minute before returning to the counter with the fake whipped cream and an unopened bottle of wine. I pointed her at the corkscrew.
“Still, it takes time to learn these things and to remember. You have to want to make the effort.” She paused, studying me. “I’ve seen the way you talk to Ethan, the way you engage him. The little things you did around here to make him feel comfortable, like buying his favorite cereal. I think you’re going to make a wonderful parent.”
Tears blurred my vision at that point. I wanted to drop the pie plates and throw my arms around her, but now wasn’t the time. Appreciating my concern for Ethan didn’t equal total forgiveness. Instead, I did the only thing that made sense. With a plate in each hand, I carried the pies back into the dining room, making sure the piece with the most whipped topping went to Ethan.
∞ ♡ ∞
Jess
After dessert, I leaned back in my chair, patting my stomach. “That was amazing. Best meal I’ve had in ages.”
Christa wiped her mouth with her napkin. “Thank you. I haven’t had a real Thanksgiving feast like this in almost twenty years.”
Too late, she realized what she said. She flushed, dropping her hands into her lap. Not knowing what else to do, I pushed my chair back and started clearing dishes. Christa touched my wrist to stop me.
“Please don’t,” she said. “I’m sorry. Let’s just enjoy the evening.”
A knock on the front door intruded on my intended reply. “You expecting someone?”
“Who would randomly show up on Thanksgiving?” Ethan asked.
“It’s not Thanksgiving in Canada,” I reminded him. “It’s just Thursday. No one knows I’m American, so even if they remembered the holiday, it wouldn’t occur to them that I might be celebrating.”
“Oh, right.” The doorbell rang once, twice. Ethan stood. “Want me to get it?”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll get it.”
He hovered over his chair, while Christa went to the door. The bell rang again.
“What are you doing?” I asked. Whoever was out there, they wanted in badly. I wondered if I should grab the emergency medical stuff out of my bag.
“Sounds important, don’t it?” Ethan said.
“Doesn’t it,” I corrected automatically.
He was right, though, that people who showed up at eight o’clock at night unannounced and rang the doorbell five times usually had something important to say. Probably something I didn’t want him to witness.
“If you’re done eating, take our plates into the kitchen and rinse them off.”
He huffed as he went. I strained my ears to hear the conversation when the door opened. Christa’s low murmur evaporated into the air between the front hall and the dining nook, but the response of the person on the porch rang crystal clear.
“Good evening,” a female voice said. “I’m Christina McCall. Tina. I think you’ve heard of me?”
Chapter 17
Christa
Christina McCall stood on my doorstep. How? Why?
My entire new life flashed before my eyes. A peek over my shoulder into the dining room at Jess’s gaping mouth told me she had heard this woman’s declaration.
I stepped toward the porch to continue the conversation privately. “Can we please just—?”
“No, I don’t think we can,” the woman said. She raised her voice, pitching it over my shoulder, “Actually, Christa, I was hoping I could come in and talk to you. Don’t your friends deserve to know who you are and what you’ve been doing?”
Behind me, Jess moved toward the kitchen. I couldn’t hear what she said to Ethan but hoped he hadn’t caught our conversation. I wavered, not wanting to talk to Tina where they could hear, not knowing what else to do. Dishes clinked in the other room, the faucet started running water.
Jess, creating a sound barrier. Bless her.
The last thing I wanted to do was let this strange woman into my home, but I couldn’t risk what might happen if I slammed the door in her face. The house had other doors, and she could easily walk through any of them while I raced to turn the locks.
Holding the door open, I moved backward so she could step into the hallway.
Had I gotten to choose, it would have been difficult to find a woman more my opposite than this Other Christina. Despite standing up straight, chin held high, the top of her head didn’t even reach my shoulder. Her curves strained at the buttons of her purple blouse. Long, jet-black hair contrasted with my shoulder-length strawberry blond highlights, and I’d have killed for those high cheekbones.
A million questions flew through my mind, but only one came out. “What do you want?”
She made a sound that might have been a laugh had it held a trace of humour. “Well, to start, I’d like my life back. This is my house you’re living in, right? My name on the deed? My social insurance number on your bank accounts?”
My mouth dropped, and I stepped backward again. The wall brushed my backside. Nowhere to go.
“Ironic, isn’t it,” she said, “that I spent almost two decades living off the grid, hiding from my ex in some shitty American town, only to come back and find that, apparently, he wasn’t looking for me at all?”
It seemed prudent not to correct her definition of irony, so I remained silent.
“I’ve got no money, no job, no friends left, no family, no real prospects for the future, but you’re living it up real nicely. Turns out, you’re better at being me than I was. But I think you’ve been me long enough. I hope you’ve got an extra bed, because I’m moving in.”
“What? You can’t!”
“Of course I can. It’s my house,” she said. “The name on the deed, Christa, is mine.”
My mind raced, but if she was really who she claimed to be, my options had suddenly become very limited. Jess and Ethan didn’t know I’d stolen this woman’s identity. If she called the Mounties, they could take one look at her ID and toss me, Jess, and Ethan into the street.
Worse, I could go to jail, charged with entering the country illegally, impersonating a Canadian citizen… I didn’t even know what else. Jess and Ethan would return to Boston,
and I wouldn’t see either of them again, possibly for years. When I was released, Jess would never speak to me again.
The only thing to do was find out what this Other Christina really wanted and hope she went away. Quickly.
But I couldn’t be sure that I was looking at the real Christina McCall. Too much time had passed to say that this woman was the same person who posed for the picture on the passport I used to enter Canada. She’d dyed her naturally light-brown hair, but was the face the same?
Maybe if I sounded sure of myself, it would make me feel more confident. Desperately hoping my voice wouldn’t shake, I said the only thing I could that might help make this nightmare go away. “I’m afraid I’m going to need to see some identification. Surely, you understand.”
“Of course, Christa. After all, ID is everything these days.”
She handed me a sheaf of papers, all photocopies: a Saskatchewan driver’s license, long expired; a newer passport than the one that sat in a locked drawer in my office; a birth certificate, credit cards, school records, all kinds of stuff. All in the name of Christina McCall. Tina. Her picture, not mine. My heart pounded so forcefully, she could probably see it beating against my chest.
My mouth opened and closed as I looked from her to the papers and back, but no words came out. I couldn’t believe she’d found me. Or that she was here, now, at the worst possible time.
“You should probably shut the door. You’re letting out the warm air. Also, my bags are still on the porch, so maybe you or that boy you’re hiding from me can go fetch ’em.” I don’t know what she saw on my face, but she softened for a moment. “Don’t worry. Play nice, and we don’t need to tell the kid who I am. Call me Tina. But I’m here for a few days, at least, until I get what I need. I’m thinking about twenty thousand should be enough to start. Then we’re going to talk long-term plans.”
My mind raced. I couldn’t let her in, have her tell Jess and Ethan everything I’d done. Not now, when we were starting to build a new foundation.
Finding Tranquility Page 15
