So here they stood.
Face to face.
Glare to glare.
The issue within his little family of five was the fact no one was brave enough to stand up to the McIntosh Matriarch. While his father sometimes took a stand against her, like when they realized Lydia would in fact return home and he wouldn’t have it any other way, he didn’t always put up a good fight when it came to the foundation that kept their family together.
There was a saying in the McIntosh household. Jeb could remember hearing his father say it a hundred times when he was a little boy.
“Blood is thicker than water and I’d shed every ounce of it if it meant saving your life.”
It was a saying their mother miraculously forgot when Lydia expressed her desire to become a girl.
But Jeb never forgot it. He begged his parents to let him go to Vermont to be with her. Of course they said no, but the fact still remained that he’d wanted to go and cried himself to sleep for a month straight after her departure.
It didn’t matter what parts Lydia wanted to have in her pants. What mattered was the amazing, beautiful personality she possessed and the heart of gold she represented every single day. She was involved in so many charity projects throughout her adolescence. He could remember the pictures she’d send through email; the newspaper clippings he’d get from the postman.
Lydia went above and beyond to help people have better lives.
Why couldn’t their mom just let her live the one of her choosing?
“When he finally decides to get up, tell Jonathan we’ll be having an important meeting at noon. It’s with Gran’s attorney.” Her voice quivered, but she didn’t seem very affected by anything he’d said. Maybe it was for the best; fighting with his mom while hungover didn’t sound like a good time.
I hate when she uses that name. He thought, Lydia wouldn’t appreciate it either. Jonathan McIntosh died years before. There wasn’t any reason to use that name anymore.
“Gran’s lawyer, huh?” He nodded, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I can do that.”
“Good. Oh, and let Laney know there are some flowers on the kitchen table. They’re from Devin.” With that, Mrs. McIntosh picked her purse up off the coffee table and headed towards the front door.
He didn’t wait around for her to disappear. Instead, Jeb hurried up the stairs and lifted his hand to knock on Laney’s door when it suddenly flew open and she nearly knocked him down.
“Whoa.”
“Shit. Jeb. I’m sorry.” She had tears in her eyes, but before he had a chance to ask, she was already hurrying down the hallway, slamming the door shut to their father’s makeshift office.
“What the hell...?” He glanced into the bedroom and saw Lydia sitting on the floor in nothing but a towel. Concerned-Brother mode kicked into full gear as his long legs carried him to her side and he crouched in front of her. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“Oh my god, Jeb. Not right now,” she pleaded.
Wiping at her eyes, Lydia turned her head as far away from him as she could. He’d seen that before; she was ashamed to cry in front of him, which he’d never understood. As her brother, how was he supposed to comfort her if she wouldn’t let him?
“None of that now.” He gripped her chin gently and forced her teary eyes to meet his. “What’s the matter? Did you and Laney have a fight?”
“Not entirely.” Lydia rolled her eyes. “Kind of, but not really.”
Arching an eyebrow, he smirked. “Really or not really, there is no kind of.” He mocked in his best Yoda voice—which probably wasn’t all that great.
When she laughed softly, he knew he was on the right track.
“What happened, Lyds?”
“She’s upset I’m leaving today.”
“Ah.” He knew the feeling. He was upset about that, too. “Is that all?”
“No.” She sulked, biting at her quivering bottom lip. “She made me feel like crap...for everything, you know? For leaving in the first place.”
“We were young when you left, Lyds. I mean, we tried to understand you were doing it to become a happier person—that’s what Dad said, but it was hard. We missed having you here. Sometimes I think it hurt her more than it could ever hurt me.”
“I never meant to hurt either of you!” She sobbed. “I was so selfish, wasn’t I? A horrible, terrible sister...”
“Now, now.” He gathered her in his arms, hugging her close. The scent of her freshly cleaned hair tickled at his nostrils as he closed his eyes. He had missed her more than she’d ever know, and letting her leave again seemed so stupid. But how could he make her stay? She wasn’t happy in Prairie Town. “It’s okay, Sis. You’re not selfish for wanting happiness.”
“I hate that I was born in the wrong body.” Lydia confessed, her voice muffled against his chest. “It wasn’t fair!”
“No, it wasn’t. But look at you now, huh?” He pulled away, gripping her shoulders gently. “You’re such a beautiful person, Lydia. You always have been. I can tell you’re happy now and that’s all I ever wanted for you. Laney will get over it, you know? She’s just sad you’re leaving so soon. We all are.”
“Not Mama.”
“No, not Mama. But she doesn’t count when it comes to this.”
“She doesn’t?” Lydia blinked.
“As far as I’m concerned, she doesn’t.”
“But...”—she tilted her head and wrinkled her nose—“she’s our mother, Jeb. How can you say that?”
He shrugged his large shoulders.
“Because she doesn’t treat us equally, Lydia. And I’m tired of that. It ain’t right.”
“Yes, but she adores you and Laney. I can handle what she throws at me, but I don’t want her to get upset with you. Don’t feel that way because of me, Jeb. Please.”
“And how is that fair?” He stood from the floor and offered a hand to her. “I know she’s the reason you won’t stick around town. Well, one of the reasons.”
Hoisting herself up, Lydia pushed her wet hair out of her face and released a low breath. She was thinking, hard, and he hoped she would take everything he had to say into consideration. He didn’t want her to leave.
“I just don’t know, Jebby. There are a lot of reasons I can’t stick around this place. I don’t think they’re ready for me.”
“Then we’ll make them ready. Give them a chance to get to know the real you, Lyds. You’ve been gone for so long. Jonathan McIntosh may be dead and gone, but Lydia McIntosh is alive and well. Would you really deny the prestigious city of Prairie Town the opportunity to get to know you?”
That last part earned him a roll of her eyes, but he didn’t miss the hint of a smile playing at her lips.
“Prestigious.” She snickered. “This place is hardly prestigious.”
“You’re right. It’s a crap town with nothing to do hardly, but...”
“But what?”
“Callum.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“Callum?” She echoed, her voice growing softer.
Ah ha. I knew it. Grinning broadly, he crossed his arms over his broad chest and nodded confidently.
“Don’t you maybe want to see where that goes?” He asked curiously.
“Nowhere. It’ll go nowhere, Jebson, and don’t you even think about trying to play some stupid cupid game.”
“Who said anything about me playing a stupid cupid game, huh?” He threw his hands up in defense. “I ain’t even havin’ to do anything about it—he’s the one who has the hots for you.”
“W-what?” Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head.
“You heard me—he likes you. A lot. I think there’s some potential there. Wouldn’t it be a shame for you to leave before he had a chance to get to know you better?”
“Oh, now you’re just being stupid.” Lydia rolled her eyes and turned away from him, grabbing for whatever outfit she was planning to wear. It only occurred to him just then that she was still wearing the towel
. “There’s no way in hell Callum would ever truly like me. He doesn’t even know me. He doesn’t know my past. Besides...”
“Besides what?”
“Mama made it very clear I am to stay away from him. Apparently she’s afraid I’ll rub off on him or something. Heaven forbid.”
Fuck Mama. He wanted to say. Oh, he wanted to say it so badly. But he refrained...for now.
“Plus, I don’t want to set myself up for that sort of rejection. Just because I didn’t want to be a man doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with a man. It’s intimidating and it’s not easy either. How do I work it into the conversation? ‘Oh hi, my name is Lydia and I used to have a dick. Want to get coffee sometime?’” She snorted in disgust. “It doesn’t work like that.”
“No, it doesn’t, but—”
“I don’t want to get hurt like that, Jeb. I’ve never dated before. Ever. Other girls don’t have this issue. They’ve all had their first kisses by now and I’ve been shying away from the simplest form of human interaction since the day I was born. And you know why, right? Because of this.” She motioned to herself. “I don’t know how to tell a man the truth...even though the truth shouldn’t matter. This is me now. This has always been me. I’ve always been Lydia.”
“I know, but—”
“And it’s just really terrifying, okay? Callum is from here and people here just don’t get it. I’d have better luck with a guy in California or Vermont, but I don’t know that I’ll ever be ready for it. So no stupid cupid. It’s better if I leave before anything has the chance to happen.”
“Oh my god, Lydia. Just shut up already.” He groaned, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “Callum already knows the truth.”
The dress in her grasp fell to the floor and her jaw followed close behind. The silence surrounding them was both unnerving and totally expected.
“He does?” She squeaked, paling.
“Yeah.” Jeb nodded, raking his fingers through his hair. “And before you freak out—”
“Oh my god, he knows.” She gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “Oh, God! I have to leave. I need to go...like now. You told him, didn’t you? How could you? Ugh. Never mind! Where’s my suitcase?”
“Oh, no ya don’t.” He practically flew to the closet, pressing his body against it to prevent her from opening it. “And I didn’t tell him, by the way. You did. While you were drunk.”
“Jebson!” She stomped her foot. “Move. I have to go. He’s going to tell everybody and that’s only going to make it worse. I can’t believe I said that to him. I’ll never drink again—God, you just don’t even understand! I need to go.”
“No, you don’t.” He smiled at her warmly, shaking his head. “Seriously, Lyds. You’re freaking out for nothing, Sis.”
“But he knows...” She stared at him, her eyes big and watery. God, he hoped she wouldn’t cry again. He really couldn’t take it.
“Yeah, he does,” he agreed. “But he’s not taking it the way you think he is.”
“He’s not?”
“No. In fact, he handled it a lot better than Dad did back in the day. He’s a very modern kind of guy. You judged him too quickly.”
“Oh, shit.” Lydia cupped her cheeks and turned away from him, opting for pacing back and forth. “I don’t know...I don’t think I’m okay with this.”
“Can’t you be okay with it? Please? Just give this a chance. Give Prairie Town a chance.”
Give your family a chance.
She turned to peer at him again and a small part of him was hopeful she’d agree. He needed her to stay. Losing her again wasn’t an option.
“Please, Lydia.” He repeated quietly.
“I’m sorry. I can’t.” She whirled around and ran to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
His heart cracked right down the middle upon the realization that nothing would ever convince her to stay right where she belonged.
He needed a damn miracle.
Chapter Five
Oh, God. This wasn’t happening. Laney wasn’t holding a grudge against her for leaving; Jeb wasn’t giving her puppy dog eyes and begging her to stay; She didn’t somehow blurt out the truth to Callum while highly intoxicated.
But she did. She totally did. Why?
Staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, Lydia watched fresh tears form in her eyes. There was no way in hell she could go anywhere today with how red and puffy her eyes were getting.
“This is bullshit.” She whispered, her voice breaking. “God, you’re an idiot.”
Jeb was right though, she did tell Callum. She told him more than she ever intended to and it was all because she decided to have a few shots to numb the pain her mother always put her through.
Or maybe it was over the fact she’d lost her Gran. God, what would Gran say?
The memories from the night before came flooding back, too many of them, all at once. She gripped the edges of the counter and squeezed her eyes shut.
“You want to dance with me, Lydia?” Callum asked with that irresistible smile of his.
“I think I’ve got enough drinks in me for that.” She giggled, taking his hand as he offered it to her. “Sure, why not?”
“Why not?” Lydia recalled aloud, snorting at her own stupidity. “Oh my god.”
He was a good dancer much to her surprise. She liked the way he held her close, swaying from side to side as the tune on the jukebox kept time for them.
“You feeling a little better now?” He asked, twirling her around before pulling her close once more.
Her fingers slowly traced over his arms, admiring the muscles beneath. Her insides quivered and heated with desire—something she definitely wasn’t supposed to feel towards him.
“As good as I’m going to feel for now.” She admitted with a sigh. “I’m really going to miss her.”
“I miss my grandma, too.”
The song changed and this one was slower. Callum wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in, much to her drunken delight. She could feel every hard muscle beneath his shirt and it sent her heart into overdrive.
“I’m sorry. When did she pass away?”
“October will make eleven years.”
“Does it ever get any easier?” She gazed into his eyes, helplessly getting lost in the deep ocean of forest green. He had such beautiful eyes. “The pain, I mean.”
“Well, I don’t think that pain ever fully goes away.” Callum replied, sliding one hand down to rest against the small of her back. “When you lose somebody you care about, they take a piece of your heart with them. Your heart can heal from it and the pain may decrease a bit, but every now and then the scar from that loss will start aching and sometimes it’s unbearable.”
“I’m sorry.” She repeated. Sliding her arms around his neck, she inched closer—if it were possible—and rested her cheek against his chest. The sound of his strong heartbeat was comforting to her; if he could survive losing his grandmother, couldn’t she?
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” The rumble of his laugh felt like it tickled her skull. “It’s like my mother always said: we have to hang on to the happy times. That’s what gets us through this chaotic thing known as life.”
“Your mother sounds very wise.”
“Eh, she has her moments.” He teased.
The smell of his cologne, strong and wonderful, invaded her nostrils. She was totally at ease. The world around them, all of it, everything, seemed to vanish as he led her across the dance floor.
For the first time in her life, Lydia felt completely content and so happy.
“I like you, Lydia.” He suddenly said. “You’re a breath of fresh air in this place. You’re not like the other girls—you’re different.”
“You have no idea.” She sighed, lifting her head to peer at him.
“And I’m not saying it just to be cliché or anything,” he promised. “You really are different. The girls I’ve met around here are so...”—his eyebrows
pinched together—“not as graceful. Classy, maybe? I can’t really think of the right word, but they sure don’t act like you.”
“Well, they can’t be that bad, can they?” She smiled like an idiot.
“I’m sure they’re not ‘bad’.” He shrugged his shoulders and his hand slid down to her backside. He quickly pulled it back up. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Her heart thundered in her ears. While it was only an accident, it was the best accident she’d ever experienced.
“Anyway.” He cleared his throat. “The girls around here don’t seem to have any respect for themselves—I mean, it works the same way with some of the guys, too. They don’t value things the way I do. Maybe I was brought up differently or I might belong in another time, but...nah. That’s going to make me sound lame. Never mind.”
“No, what is it? I’m sure it won’t sound lame.”
“I just don’t like how girls throw themselves at me.”
Really? She thought. A guy who doesn’t like attention from girls?
“Don’t get me wrong, Lydia—I love sex. It feels great and I enjoy it, but I’m really tired of girls wanting to be with me for that sole purpose. It should be about more than just physical pleasure, right?”
“Um, yeah.” She nodded hesitantly. Even though she honestly didn’t have any experience in that department, which was pathetic, he didn’t need to know that. And she could totally understand what he was saying anyway. A relationship was supposed to be about more than sex. “Companionship should be an emotional and mental connection, too.”
“Exactly!” His smile broadened. “You’re beautiful, Lydia”—she blushed—“and from what I’ve gathered you’re pretty damn smart, too. And funny. You’re a lot like Jeb, but...prettier.”
She couldn’t help but to laugh, burying her face against his chest as the giggles erupted with no sign of stopping.
“Well, it’s the truth!” He insisted, laughing with her. “I reckon it’s sort of weird to look at it that way, but if Jeb put on a dress and a little makeup, I’d probably take a liking to him.”
180 Days Page 4
