She shivered at the thought. Half the town coming to see her Gran off wasn’t really her idea of a good time. People would ask questions. Her mother would lie. She would feel lower than dirt.
“Is it too late to go back home?” She asked meekly.
“Oh, stop that, cuz,” Laney teased. “It’ll be fine. Just ignore Mama if you need to. We’ll be right beside you the whole time.”
“And Callum, too.” Jeb nudged her arm, grinning goofily.
“And what is that supposed to mean?” Lydia questioned, her cheeks heating up.
“You know what it means. I saw you ogling him at the dinner table the other night, and smiling like a cat with a mission yesterday. You can’t lie to me.” He winked.
Oh, God...
And speaking of the devil, a red Chevy Tahoe pulled into the parking lot, right beside them, and killed the engine.
Lydia knew the sound of that motor by now. She knew exactly who was sitting in the driver’s seat and her skin began to tingle at the thought of Callum staring at her.
He probably wasn’t, but a girl could dream.
“Come on, lover girl.” Laney grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the funeral home. “Let’s go on in before Mama has a hernia.”
Ugh. Lydia rolled her eyes, but allowed her sister to lead her to the front door. However, she couldn’t help turning her head to sneak a glance at Mr. Hunky, and her stomach knotted up when their gazes connected.
He –was- looking at me.
Maybe the day wasn’t going to be entirely bad.
—————
The day was totally bad. It wasn’t really because of her mother, but more so the gut-punching reality that her grandmother was truly gone. As the pastor read her obituary and began talking about her life, the tears wouldn’t stay at bay.
It was like a dam breaking open and all the pain from over the years began to flood down her cheeks. Laney offered her tissues, but she needed a damn towel.
“...And so we say farewell to a kind, loving woman. Beulah Montgomery will be truly missed by everyone who had the privilege to meet her; her daughter, her son-in-law, her grandchildren, and her friends. Please bow your heads so we may pray.”
Bowing her head, Lydia felt her chest tighten and the ability to breathe didn’t seem possible anymore. This was really happening. Her grandmother was really gone. She would never hear that sweet laugh again or feel those gentle arms embrace her.
The one person who never questioned who she truly wanted to be was dead.
“Don’t listen to your mother, Lydia. She doesn’t understand what it’s like to be forced to pretend she’s someone else. She doesn’t understand you, baby—but I do. I’ll help you however I can, no matter what it is. I’ll always love you, no matter your choices. You are my grandchild. You are my blood.”
She began to sob. Heart-wrenching, can’t-catch-your-breath sobs. They became louder and louder as people stood from their seats and made their way to her Gran’s coffin to say goodbye. Jeb and Laney were seated on either side of her in the second row, right behind their parents, and it was almost their turn.
“Come on, Lyds.” Jeb whispered, touching her arm lightly. “It’s time.”
But as they stood up and started for the coffin, Lydia’s legs threatened to give out on her. There was no way she could do this. She couldn’t say goodbye.
“Come on, honey,” Laney whispered through her tears. “Let’s get it over with and go outside for some fresh air.”
“I can’t,” Lydia whimpered. “I really can’t. I’m not ready.”
“None of us are.” Jeb’s deep voice was gentle and full of understanding. His strong arm wrapped around her as they took another step forward, and then another. “I’ve got you, sis. Just lean on me.”
And lean she did. Jeb was a big guy. He stood a foot taller than her and he was pure muscle, which wasn’t a bad thing right at that particular moment. He kept his grip on her tight as they finally made it to the coffin.
Daring to look at her Gran, Lydia’s sadness suddenly turned into rage.
“That’s not the dress.” She whispered.
“What?” Laney asked in confusion.
“That is not the dress Gran wanted to be buried in.” Gritting her teeth, Lydia forced herself to keep her eyes on the casket. Starting a scene with her mother at a funeral would be terribly hypocritical of her. “That’s not the right dress.”
The dress her Gran wanted to be buried in was a beautiful deep purple. It had ruffles on the sleeves and a pretty flower in the center. She loved that dress. She wore it everywhere. The offensive cream-colored atrocity currently adorning her body would have her rolling in her grave—and she wasn’t even in it yet!
“Easy, Lyds.” Jeb rubbed her back in a comforting manner, whispering low enough for only her to hear. “Let’s just go outside.”
“She changed the fucking dress.” Lydia bit the words out, tears blurring her vision. “She had no right...”
“Shh, keep your voice down.” Laney pleaded, fanning her face with her hand. As if that was going to help the fire of hate growing inside her at the moment. “Let’s just get out of here.”
Torn between being angry and heartbroken, Lydia reached a trembling hand out to touch her grandmother’s stiff cold one.
She could remember how it felt to hold her hand before she died, the way her body temperature kept dropping.
And I couldn’t do anything about it.
Swallowing hard, Lydia closed her eyes.
“I love you, Gran.” She whispered. “Thank you for loving me no matter what.”
Laney and Jeb whispered their goodbyes as well, and with the sense of her mother’s eyes on her back, Lydia exited the room with them.
They couldn’t get outside fast enough. The anger was back, tenfold, and all she wanted to do was scream.
Or punch her mother in the face.
“I can’t believe she did that!” She cried, running a hand through her hair as she paced back and forth in the parking lot. “That bitch.”
“Keep your voice down.” Jeb pleaded, glancing around nervously. “There are a lot of people here.”
“I don’t care,” she laughed hysterically. Uh oh. The laughter was never a good sign. The laughter meant her mind had gone straight from upset to pissed. “Let them hear. They deserve to know what a spiteful, evil monster she is.”
“Lydia, please.” Laney reached for her, but Lydia jerked away.
“No. Just don’t.” She sniffed, uncaring of how terrible her makeup probably looked by now. Putting on mascara for a funeral was a lost cause anyway. “Leave me alone.”
“Is everything okay?” Callum asked as he appeared by her side.
Turning to look the other way, she did her best to fix her makeup. Laney, who happened to have weird Lydia-senses, moved closer to try and help.
“You look fine.” She whispered, smiling in spite of her tears. “Seriously.”
“Just some high tensions right now.” Jeb lied, patting his friend on the shoulder. “Thanks for coming, Cal. It means a lot to all of us.”
“Of course. It was my pleasure to do so. Are you okay, Lydia?”
Hearing her name roll off his tongue in that deep, sexy southern drawl made all her anger temporarily disappear. Sucking in a deep breath, she turned around to face him and smiled a genuine smile.
“I will be. Thank you for asking, Callum.”
“I know it’s hard to lose somebody you really love.” He seemed sincere as he took her hand into his, which totally took her by surprise, and then rested his other hand atop hers. “If you ever need to talk, I’m here, okay? Any friend of Jeb’s is a friend of mine—or cousin in this case.”
She blinked.
“So any cousin of mine is a cousin of yours?” Jeb snickered.
Callum’s neck turned red as he glared at his friend, but it was obvious he realized his mistake as he quickly dropped Lydia’s hand and began rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
That was the single most amazing five seconds of her life; feeling his hands around hers.
“What I meant was, well...”
“It’s okay, Callum.” She laughed. “Truly, it is. I knew what you meant.”
“Thank God.” His smile widened and her heart stopped. Damn, he needed to stop doing that. “I honestly don’t usually make an ass of myself like this, but pretty ladies make me get all tongue-tied and what not.”
Oh Lord, just take me now. Her heart couldn’t take it. He thought she was pretty?
“I hardly think the parking lot of a funeral home is a place to be wooing a lady.” Jeb elbowed him, snorting.
She shot a glare in her brother’s direction and he knew she meant business. He cleared his throat and raked his fingers through his hair.
“I wasn’t trying to...no wait just a minute...” Callum became flustered and she thought it was adorable. His face was so expressive.
And he smells wonderful.
“I’m hungry.” Laney announced, hooking her arm through Lydia’s. “Why don’t we go get some food, y’all?”
“I would not say no to food right now.” Jeb agreed, nodding. “How about you, Cal? Hungry?”
“When am I not hungry?” He flashed another smile and met Lydia’s gaze. Her innards quivered beneath his stare, her heart pumping into overdrive. “What do ya say, Lydia? You hungry?”
Oh, I’m hungry. She nibbled her bottom lip and looked towards the funeral home. Her parents were passing through the double doors and she knew it was time to go.
“Starving.” She replied.
But was it food she was really craving?
Chapter Four
“Lyds.”
Her sister’s hushed whisper sounded monstrous in her head. The tiny pulses of pain stabbed through her temple and all she could do was whine in protest as she rolled away from her and buried her face against the pillows.
“That will teach you to play drinking games with Jeb. He’s the best in town, which isn’t really something to be proud of.”
“Go away, Laney.” She whispered, feeling around for another pillow. Once she found it, she put it over her head and sighed. Finally. Silence.
“No, I’m not going away. You’re leaving today and you promised me a girl’s day out. Just for sisters, remember?”
Crap.
“Come on, Lydia. Get up. Get up!” Laney hopped on the bed and began jumping up and down.
“Nooooo. Stop it.”
“Not until you get up. Now.”
“I’m dying. Go away.”
The hard slap against her bottom didn’t help matters. Releasing a yelp of surprise, which worsened her headache, Lydia squirmed away from her sister and scowled.
“Damn it, Laney.”
“Damn it, Laney.” Her sister mocked, laughing. “Come on. I’ve already got an outfit laid out for you. The work’s half done.”
She lifted her head, very slowly, and stared at her. “Which one?”
“The pretty burgundy halter top. I might wear that myself, now that I think about it.” Tapping a finger against her bottom lip, Laney grinned. “Can I?”
“Will you let me go back to sleep if I say yes?”
“Nope. Mama says you have to get up. You’re not allowed to sleep the day away here.”
Figures. Lydia was still upset with her mother for changing her grandmother’s dress at the last minute—hence the drinking. It was easier to forget her pain if she was under the influence. She didn’t even drink that often. Her tolerance for alcohol was pitiful. Hopefully she didn’t make a fool of herself in front of Callum...
“Sister time.” Laney whined. “Get up.”
“Fine, fine! I’m getting up.”
But it came with much difficulty. It had been a few months since her last adventure with alcohol and now her entire body wasn’t about to let her forget that little fact as she stumbled into the bathroom and shut the door.
Even a hot shower didn’t seem to help. Afterwards, she made her way out of the bathroom with a towel draped around herself and found Laney sitting on the bed, waiting impatiently.
“That may have been the shortest shower in history.” Laney grinned. “Don’t you just love hangovers?”
“No, I do not.” Lydia made her way to the wall-length mirror and gazed at her reflection. “I feel like somebody beat me with a baseball bat. Repeatedly.”
“Well, I can assure you no such thing happened.” Her sister giggled—a devious giggle that was underlined with ‘I know something you don’t know’. Lydia didn’t like it.
Turning to stare at her, clutching the towel against her breast, she lifted an eyebrow in curiosity.
Laney tapped a finger against her bottom lip and her smile broadened.
She definitely knew something.
“Okay, I give.” Lydia’s shoulders slumped. “What did I do last night and how much am I going to regret it?”
“You didn’t do anything bad!” Laney crossed two of her fingers and batted her eyelashes. “I swear to it. Jeb can vouch for me.”
“Jeb probably doesn’t remember last night either,” she scowled. “Did it involve taking my shirt off or something?”
“Nope.” Laney popped up from the bed and practically skipped to the vanity, fixing her eyeliner with a skilled swipe of her fingertip. “But you’ll be thrilled to know Callum was chasing you around like a little puppy dog.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “He was?”
“Mmmhmm.” Turning to face her again, Laney clasped her hands together and rocked back and forth on her heels. She was awfully perky—much more of a morning person than Lydia ever would be. She’d have to have at least two cups of coffee before so much as cracking a smile. “I’m telling you now, Lyds—he’s got it bad for you.”
“He doesn’t even know me.” But that still didn’t keep her heart from pounding hard against her ribcage. Apparently her heart didn’t care about the logical aspects of this situation. All it seemed to care about was his smile and how gooey he made her insides. Ugh.
“But he could get to know you if you just—”
“I’m not staying, Laney.” She said a little too harshly. “I’ve got to get back to Vermont. I have a life there, you know? I can’t just abandon it.”
“Oh.” Laney’s tone changed drastically. She trudged toward the bedroom door, but stopped to gaze at her. The sadness in her eyes pierced Lydia’s heart. “I suppose it’s easier just to leave. Again. We can’t blame you for that.”
The door slammed shut, causing her to wince. It took a few seconds for her sister’s words to sink in.
Was that how Laney really felt? And Jeb? What about their father? Did they think it was easy for her to leave them?
Tears blurred her vision as she gripped the towel a little tighter.
“It’s not easy, kiddo.” She whispered, sniffling. “It’s never been easy.”
—————
Jeb
Nursing a hangover bigger than the state of Texas, he was doing his best to take it easy and avoid loud noises. The night before had been a lot of fun—just what they needed, but damn if he didn’t hate the headache that followed.
Jeb was glad to have Lydia home. He’d missed her so much. Whatever it took to keep her in Prairie Town, he’d do it. It just so happened that taking her out for pizza and a lot of alcohol had done the trick—maybe too well.
Their grandmother’s death wasn’t easy on any of them, but he knew it affected Lydia more than anyone else. She was closest to Gran and had been for many years. He couldn’t imagine what pain she felt, but it was probably a hell of a lot more than the ache he had in his chest.
Drinking made it a little easier. He thought, which also hurt to do, and sighed.
“Where is he?” Mrs. McIntosh asked as she flung the front door open and stepped inside.
Wincing, Jeb slowly turned his head to look at her. “Where’s who? Callum? He ain’t here yet.”
“No, not
Callum,” she snapped. “Your brother.”
“I don’t have a brother.” He calmly replied.
“Don’t start that with me again, Jebson Ray.” She folded her arms across her chest, glaring daggers at him. “We’ve had this talk plenty of times and you know how I feel about it. Stop enabling him. He’ll keep up this façade for as long as you allow it.”
Struggling to keep his eyes from rolling, which would also hurt, Jeb lowered his boots from the coffee table and let them hit the floor with a loud thud. He stood slowly, towering over his mother, and frowned.
“I ain’t allowing nothin’, Mama,” he replied. “He doesn’t exist—Lydia does. That’s how it’s always been and how it’s always going to be. The only person keeping up any sort of façade is you.”
Oh God. Oh shit on a brick. If ever his mother willed him to be dead, it was now. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell agape, but not a single word was uttered.
That was definitely a bad sign.
A lot of folks would probably never understand how easily Jeb transitioned along with his sister. He had accepted, long ago, that he had two sisters instead of just one. Lydia had never been a boy. She never acted like a boy, talked like a boy, or existed as a boy. She was always a girl in his eyes and he loved her in spite of the ‘sickness’ his mother claimed she had.
He was only a kid when she left for Vermont and he didn’t quite understand the technical aspect of it all, but when he was sixteen he discovered an online forum where loved ones of transgendered people could comfortably discuss what was happening to the people they cared so much about.
And he did care about his sister. He asked lots of questions and got a variety of answers. Some of the people he’d met online were angry about their sons becoming daughters or their sisters becoming brothers, but not him. He only wanted to know what he could do to help make it easier for Lydia.
And now, having her back home again, made him want to head back online once again to figure out how he could get her to stay with them. Permanently.
He knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Hell, their mother would see to that. She was the only one who didn’t accept Lydia for who she truly wanted to be—who she truly was. It wasn’t right in his eyes, but he knew good and well he couldn’t change her heart. That was something she’d have to do on her own, in her own time. He’d sincerely hoped it would be before Lydia returned, but shit happens, he supposed.
180 Days Page 3
