His eyes narrowed as his blood began to boil. All Jeb could do was tighten his fingers around the steering wheel. God help him, he’d bust Devin’s mouth if he wasn’t careful with his words.
“I’m not a bad guy, McIntosh. Some people in this town say I’m quite the catch. Your sister may not have seen it, but other people do.”
What people had he been talking to, exactly? Devin was anything but a ‘catch’. The only thing he was, truly, was a self-absorbed asshole. All he thought about was himself, just like the rest of his family. Jeb was honestly surprised that Mr. Rose considered him to be an asset to anything because nothing mattered to the Roses aside from family and money.
Just keep your mouth shut. He reminded himself. No matter how badly he wanted to inform Devin that his sister was smart enough not to make a bad mistake by dating the likes of him, he put the truck into gear instead.
The quicker this delivery was over, the better.
Devin didn’t say much else on the way to the country club. Jeb did all of the work—no surprise—and after receiving the payment and quite a generous tip from Mr. Miller he got back into the cab with home on his mind.
Almost there.
“I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever get done.”
“I might have been finished sooner had I had some help.” Jeb muttered, eyes on the road.
“Now you’re just whining.”
Some of us don’t get to jerk off in the truck. Jeb thought, but he bit his tongue. Ignore him. I’m rubber, he’s glue.
However, Devin gave him no choice when he brought up Lydia again.
“So your cousin, man,” He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “She’s real cute.”
“Yeah, she’s cute.”
“How the hell did Reynolds snag a piece like that?”
Holy fuck, he doesn’t know when to shut up. Hearing Lydia being referred to as ‘a piece’ made animalistic rage claw its way to the surface and Jeb began to imagine beating Devin into a bloody pulp.
Again.
“You really messed up my game that night, McIntosh. I was getting somewhere when you showed up.”
“The hell you were.”
“I was.” Devin replied angrily. “She would have seen things my way—eventually. They always do.”
Something about that statement made Jeb’s blood boil. He didn’t have a good feeling about Devin’s ‘persuasion’.
“Well, it sucks for you. She’s taken.”
“By Callum. That’s not saying much.” Devin scoffed. “He doesn’t have the money I do.”
“Maybe not all girls are into money.”
“All girls are into money,” Devin promised, grinning. “Your sister was into my money—and my dick.”
They were barely in the parking lot when the last part left his mouth and Jeb slammed on the brakes purposefully. Devin launched forward and smacked his face against the dashboard, howling in pain. He quickly covered his nose and blood gushed between his fingertips.
“You fucking idiot!”
“Get out.” Jeb commanded, glaring at him. “Get the fuck out of my truck.”
“It’s not your truck, you dumbass! It’s my father’s. Did you suddenly forget who you work for? Huh? You are fired, ya hear me? Fired!”
Unbuckling his seatbelt, Jeb lunged at him.
He didn’t remember a damn thing after that first punch.
———————————-
Lydia
“Okay, so now we’re only left with packages for kids in Prairie Town. Let’s get them boxed up and ready to go.” Tula instructed as she clung to her yellow notepad and grinned. “This year is going to be the most successful yet!”
They had been working non-stop for almost two weeks preparing and shipping boxes for Tula’s annual charity, Giftapalooza: a program that helped gift children in need during the holidays. Lydia had never seen so much kindness, all from Tula’s, or rather Carmen Laroque’s—fans.
Toys, games, clothes, food, movies, and books had been scattered everywhere and the organization process had been insane, but Callum, Laney, and Jeb had come to help out as often as they could and Lydia was grateful for that. She knew Tula was as well.
“I think we should start with the smallest sizes first.” Lydia said, glancing back and forth between two piles of coats. “It might be easier to work our way up.”
It was one of the most wonderful things she’d ever witnessed. Not only did Tula arrange for children to get what they wanted for Christmas, but she was providing basic needs, too.
“I can do that.” Callum nodded. “So we’ll start with toddler stuff?”
“Yes. Just let me grab the list of recipients,”—which had once been a mile long—“and we can try to keep siblings together.”
“Good call.” He kissed her temple and turned to head for the post office boxes they’d be using.
Each child would receive winter clothes, a new outfit, a game, a book, a movie, and the gifts they’d asked Santa for. The only thing that made the deal even sweeter was the fact each family would receive a full-course meal for Christmas Day.
It was a beautiful organization, Lydia decided. Tula was someone who could afford to make such miracles happen and she was proud to be involved, even if it meant sorting through thousands—and she did mean thousands—of items just to customize them for their new homes.
“Okay, so the first coat is going to go to Jamie Spencer.” She announced, eyeing the form. “She needs 0-8 months. Do we have one of those?”
“Are you kidding, babe?” Callum rummaged through the coats and pulled out a tiny leopard-print coat, grinning. “We’ve got everything.”
“Oh, good. That’s good!” She returned his grin. “Protocol calls for sending diapers with hers. It’ll help her parents out.”
“Got it. I’m on it.” Callum carefully stepped over a stack of books and grabbed a pack of diapers. “Anything else from over here?” He asked in reference to the horde of baby items they had.
“Oh shoot, just give her one of everything. I’m sure her mom may need it in the long run.” She was fairly sure she knew little Jamie’s mother. Kelly Jones-Spencer. The name sounded very familiar to her.
“Surely to goodness Tula won’t get upset if we send out all the supplies. It’ll help us clean out the inventory, too. What toy did she ask Santa for?”
“Um,” Lydia’s eyes scanned the form and her heart nearly exploded. “It says that her mother is requesting a crib for her.”
Some of the submissions from families in need had been very difficult to read. While most of the applicants for Tula’s program were from across the nation—and even across the world—it was the local families that got to her the most. So many people in Prairie Town were in need and Lydia wanted to help all of them.
With Tula’s help, she could.
“We don’t have a crib, do we?” She questioned, glancing around. Her heart sank.
“No, babe.” Callum shook his head. “That wasn’t one of the things anybody sent.”
“Damn it.”
Just as she was becoming discouraged and the Christmas cheer she’d been feeling began to fade, Callum wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips to the side of her neck.
“I’ll buy her one.”
Lord help her, if it was possible to fall more in love with him, she did right then and there. Never had a more perfect man existed. Callum possessed a heart of gold, and somehow, by the grace of God, she’d won it.
“You will? Are you sure? They’re not cheap...”
“It doesn’t matter the price.” He murmured, his lips still lightly resting against her skin. “That little girl needs a crib and we’ll make sure she has one. I’ll go get it right now.”
“Are you serious?” She turned in his arms, gazing into his beautiful eyes as her knees began to weaken. “You’re really going to buy it?”
“Lydia, I’ve never said anything I don’t mean.” He promised, resting his forehea
d against hers. “There’s no way I can enjoy Christmas knowing there’s a kid out there without a crib. This is within my capability and I want to make it happen. Think you can handle the packages until I get back?”
“Of course I can. Are you sure you don’t need me to go with you though?”
“No, I got this.” He pecked her lips once, twice. “I love you.”
“I love you.” She sighed, pulling away reluctantly. “Hurry back, okay?”
“I will.” He winked.
Refocusing on the task at hand, she finished putting items into the box for little Jamie Spencer and started humming one of her favorite Christmas songs.
This Christmas would be the best she’d ever experienced, but it would also be sad. She missed her grandmother so, so much.
I know you did it for a reason, Gran. She smiled to herself, holding up a small pink sweater. It was just the perfect size for a baby girl.
Was it possible, truly possible, for someone like her to have baby fever? It was something she’d been ignoring for well over a month. Her hormones—damn them—had been going haywire and while she wished she could blame Callum’s wonderfulness for it all, that wasn’t the truth.
Never in her life did she think she’d ever get the opportunity to dream of such a loving relationship. It was only natural to want a family with the man she loved, wasn’t it?
Folding the t-shirt as neatly as possible and placing it into Jamie’s box, she then began searching for items to put into her big brother Justin, age 7’s box.
“Lydia! You’ve got company!” Tula shouted from the living room.
“Agatha!” Lydia squealed, nearly killing herself as she stumbled over a mass pile of stuffed animals to exit the den. “You’re here! You’re here!”
“Of course I’m here, angel baby.” Agatha laughed, meeting her halfway down the hallway and hugging her tightly. “Ohhh, have you grown?”
“No.” Lydia laughed, pulling away to study her. “You changed your hair again?”
“I sure did.” Agatha flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder, batting her eyelashes. “Do you like it?”
“It looks great.”
“What about me? Don’t I get any love?” Benji asked with a grin, popping out from behind Agatha.
“Yes!” She almost tackled him. “I’m so glad you guys could make it for Christmas. It will truly be the best Christmas ever.”
“I hope so.” Benji murmured, kissing her cheek. “How’s Laney? Will she be here?”
Giving her friend a knowing grin, she nodded. “Yeah, she should be dropping by soon. She had to go help Mama with some last-minute Christmas shopping.”
“Probably for your humungous, expensive gift to make up for being such a bitch.” Agatha blurted unapologetically.
“Possibly.” Lydia smiled sadly. She knew that wasn’t the truth, but a girl could dream. Mrs. McIntosh barely uttered two words to her at their Thanksgiving dinner—why would Christmas be any different?
“Well, just tell me what you need help with. I’m ready to play elf.” Benji rubbed his hands together anxiously. “Just point me in the direction.”
“Back there.” Lydia pointed to the den. “Callum should be back soon. He went to buy a crib for one of our recipients. Jeb will be getting here as soon as he’s finished up at work.”
Speaking of which, she was worried about that boy. He had been acting really strange as of late. She had a feeling it had a lot to do with their mother, Devin, and the terms of her inheritance from Gran.
Was he still worried about her leaving? He didn’t need to be.
She was definitely home for good.
“So what did you get me for Christmas?” Agatha teased as she pulled Lydia into the kitchen. The scent of freshly baked apple pie attacked her nostrils and made her mouth water. “I can see Tula was very thoughtful and made me a pie.”
“You can have some soon.” Tula promised with a laugh. “I’m making some peanut butter fudge, too.”
“Fudge, too?” Agatha groaned. “I may just turn lesbian for you.”
“I am flattered. Truly.” Tula beamed, quickly stirring a wooden spoon into a skillet filled with gooey peanut butter and marshmallow crème. “Help yourself to some cookies on the counter. I’ve made plenty for the children.”
“I couldn’t possibly take from the children.” Agatha replied, shaking her head. “I think it’s wonderful what you’re doing, Tula. I read an article about it online. How many donations did you get altogether?”
“Nearly ninety thousand.” Tula replied proudly. “It’s the most we’ve ever received in donations.”
“Ninety thousand,” she whispered. “Hot damn. That is amazing.”
“Isn’t it?” Lydia beamed, feeling so light-hearted and happy. When her brother and Laney finally arrived, her world would once again be complete.
She really couldn’t wait to spend Christmas with all of them, together, for the first time.
And with Callum. Her heart fluttered.
“Lyds, your phone is ringing!” Benji shouted.
“Who is it?”
“It’s restricted.”
“They can leave a voicemail.” She decided, figuring it was probably a telemarketer. Nothing was more annoying than a telemarketer. Besides, she needed to catch up with Agatha. She and Benji were only staying for Christmas and New Years and then they would be gone again.
“Okay!” He responded. “I’ll be waiting for you guys to get in here. I have no damn idea where to start.”
“That’s all right.” Lydia laughed, grinning at Agatha. “Just hold tight and we’ll be there in a minute.”
“What an impatient boy.” Agatha sighed, running her fingers through her hair. “He’s really excited about spending Christmas here, you know.”
“I kind of figured that. How is he holding up anyway?” Lydia asked, knowing Agatha was more than aware of Benji’s attraction to her sister.
“He’s good,” Agatha nodded. “But he’s got it bad for her, sugar. He stopped going to clubs. I have to go all by myself now.” She pouted. “Oh, and I have to tell you something else.”
“What?”
“Do you remember Sandy?”
How could she forget Sandy? Sandy was one of the sweetest girls on earth. Her situation was pretty much the same as everyone else’s in Vermont; her parents had disowned her for wanting to shed the skin of a stranger to become who she truly was.
But Sandy was also different. She was so brave and optimistic, always insisting her parents would one day let her come back home and they would fall to their knees, begging for her forgiveness.
She’d never lost that hope and that’s what Lydia admired most about her. It made Lydia believe her mother could have a change of heart, too.
Sandy was a bookworm through and through—a huge fan of Carmen LaRoque and an aspiring writer. Lydia hoped that she would one day see a book about Sandy’s life on bookshelves all across America. Maybe it would be inspirational to younger trans-people. They needed hope. They needed to know everything would get better.
“Of course,” Lydia nodded. “Did she finally write a book?”
“Not quite. She went home.” Agatha replied hesitantly. Her usual smile disappeared and was replaced with a grave frown as she bowed her head and sighed.
Lydia wasn’t sure she liked that sigh very much. “She went home and...?”
“It wasn’t good. Her father kicked her out no sooner than she walked through the front door. Oh, Lydia. It was so awful. She called me bawling her eyes out, said they humiliated her in front of the whole neighborhood.”
“That’s so terrible. Is she okay?”
“I don’t know. The last I heard, she was coming back to Vermont to spend Christmas with Rae and Sapphire”—more of their trans friends—“but Benji and I had to catch our flight before she made it back.”
“I hope she’s okay.” Lydia whispered.
There were too many horror stories. Too many.
&nbs
p; It wasn’t new information for her, or any of them for that matter, what could happen to a trans-person when their family rejected them. Lydia would have been there herself had it not been for her Gran and her father.
Her life could have turned out a lot differently if she hadn’t had their support. Some trans-kids killed themselves before having a fighting chance, all because their parents wouldn’t accept them, or because bullies—like Devin Rose—got the best of them.
There were trans-people who sold their bodies just to make money for food or a place to sleep and that was a truth Lydia wish she’d never discovered.
If only she could do more to help them.
Tula came to mind then. Gazing at the back of her blonde head and listening to her hum, Lydia knew they could do more for their friends. They could do more for those lost souls, to be a beacon in the darkness.
“That’s it.” She gasped, placing a hand over her heart. “I have an idea!”
“What?” Agatha asked.
But before she had a chance to reply, Benji stormed into the room with her cellphone high in the air.
“Lydia, it’s Jeb.” The tone of his voice sent her into a frenzy of panic. “He’s been arrested.”
Chapter Nineteen
Callum
Christmas was only two days away and he knew they were going to be extremely busy delivering boxes filled with goodies to local kids. Thanks to Tula, Prairie Town would get the miracle it so desperately needed for its less fortunate families.
Callum had never known poverty—thank God, his parents had always been able to provide for him—but it didn’t mean he didn’t sympathize with people who struggled to live from paycheck to paycheck. He had always done his share in giving to charities, whether it was the Salvation Army or St. Jude’s, but to be able to be so hands-on with Tula’s project was beyond enlightening and humbling.
So many little kids wouldn’t have presents to open up on Christmas morning if it wasn’t for her. That was something he could be proud of, something he would never forget. He got to be involved. He got to help. He was making a difference.
It was all Lydia’s idea; getting together a small team of volunteers to organize the boxes. Tula normally did everything on her own, but her project had gotten bigger than she anticipated, so naturally, and adorably so, Lydia volunteered to help out.
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