prompt: Write about a character who visits their hometown for the holidays and reconnects with a former love interest.
available at Reedsy
It was the first time in ages I’d returned; eight years, one month, and five days. Not that I was keeping count, but the exact date I’d left was seared into my memory. When I was released from the hospital in the city, I stayed rather than go back to my former home.
The fir tree in front of city hall — the one that was lit up every year for Christmas — had grown. The lights were gaudier than they used to be; bright pinks, cyan, chartreuse, and an aggressive shade of orange that somehow clashed with everything else.
They’d added Chanukah and Kwanza decorations. Someone had printed a “Happy Festivus” sign and affixed it to the empty signpost that had stood in the middle of the lawn for some unknown reason since I was a child.
I thought I’d feel fear, or maybe revulsion at seeing the town again, but I felt…empty. Maybe a few years in the city, learning to live and navigate the hazards as a woman had inured me to the danger I used to feel in this town.
I decided I’d spent enough time gawking at the hideous light display and drove the rental to the hotel. It sat on what used to be the Baxter’s corn field. The parking lot at the rear of the hotel gave me a clear line of sight to where their house used to be. It was paved over and replaced with a mini mall. The sporting goods store stood where the barn used to be.
The room I was given faced out the back side to the shopping center. I could still see the barn in my mind — every warped board and peel of paint. I remembered him hoisting me up to the hayloft atop a bale of hay. Probably not safe, but fun.
I remembered him sneaking his dad’s cigarettes. We’d gotten sick after sharing one of them. I remembered him — I remembered him.
I pulled the curtains shut tight and lay on the bed where I cried myself to sleep. At some point in the middle of the night, I showered and went to bed proper. I still woke before dawn.
Dot’s Cafe had been updated. It had been unchanged for my whole life before I left, so the difference was jarring. Dot was still there, seated in her reserved booth she occupied when she was in. Even though her name was on the place, she hadn’t owned it for at least twenty years, but she was treated as royalty.
She had to be close to a hundred. The deepened wrinkles, thinned hair, and paled complexion hurt me to see. Dot was still sharp of eye and mind, though.
Dot waved me over the minute I walked in, stared straight into my eyes, and said, “You were that Williams boy. Greg, right?”
I wasn’t going to jump on a little old lady for deadnaming me, especially since she hadn’t seen me since before I transitioned. “I’m Grace now. It’s good to see you, Dot.”
She laughed. “You look righter as Grace than Greg. You never did fit in your skin but now you do.”
“Thank you, Dot. That’s very kind of you.”
“Ah, nonsense.” She waved a hand. “You should go and get your breakfast, young lady.”
I found a booth away from the door and sat down. A menu appeared from over my shoulder as the waitress approached. She stared for a moment. I knew the look. I’d seen it time and again early in my transition. It was a look that said, “you almost look like what I expect, but not quite.” I also caught sight of the ally pin.
I cleared my throat as I took the menu.
“I-I’m so sorry, Grace,” she said. “I overheard Dot, but how could she tell? You look so different.”
Her voice sent a chill down my spine. I’d been so wrapped in my own head that I didn’t recognize her at first. “Sophie?”
“Yeah.” She seemed to shrink. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m a different person now,” I said. “Maybe you are, too?”
She nodded. “I hope so.” She wiped her tears with the back of her hand and gave a half-hearted laugh. “What can I get you?”
When I’d finished my breakfast, Sophie returned with the check and asked, “Are you going to see Jason today?”
I nodded. “That’s the only reason I’m here.”
“Would it be okay…I mean…can I…?”
I took her hand in mine. “Would you like to join me?” I asked. “I honestly don’t know if I can face him alone.”
Sophie sniffled and nodded. “You going now?”
“Yeah.”
“Give me five minutes.”
She went in the back and came back minus the apron in just a couple minutes. Judging by the yelling, it wasn’t appreciated, but Dot settled it with a single “tut.”
Sophie rode in the rental with me. She was quiet at first, but I could tell she had something to say.
“I…I was terrible to you and Jason.”
“You weren’t the only one,” I said. The taunts and names and bullying we endured were a constant of my high school experience.
“I felt so guilty about it…I drank to drown the guilt. All it got me was two DUIs, a totaled car, a suspended license and a year in lockup.”
“What did you have to feel guilty about? Yeah, you called us names, but that night, even, you stood up for—”
“I should’ve called you — warned you that Stephen was coming.”
“How could you have?”
We walked through the gate. “I…got your number from your dad the day before the dance. He wanted me to ‘talk some sense into you.’”
“I’m not surprised.”
“You haven’t been here yet, have you?”
I shook my head “no” and Sophie led the way to Jason. She’d obviously been here before.
“Jason,” I said, “I miss you. Came back just to talk to you. I told you I’d transition as soon as I left home, and I did. I’m the real me now. I know we can’t get married now, but when I transitioned, I took your last name. I didn’t want to be a Williams anymore. I hope that’s okay.”
The tears rolled down my face as I knelt beside the headstone. “Jason Baxter, gone too soon. He loved with brave ferocity and was loved in equal measure.”
There were fresh flowers in the cup on the headstone, along with a faded pride flag. I let my fingers trace the letters on the stone. “I thought his parents disowned him but…this looks like an expensive headstone.”
Sophie knelt beside me and put her arm around my shoulders. “They did. There was just a little marker here with his name on a plastic card. I bought the headstone. It was the only way I knew to apologize to him.”
She broke down into sobs, and I could no longer hold back my own. We held each other until we were cried out. She kept repeating, “I’m so sorry,” into my shoulder the whole time.
I stood and helped her to her feet. “I get it, Sophie, but you were a kid…we were all kids. You can’t blame yourself for what your brother did.”
“He saw the two of you leaving Homecoming when he picked me up and started saying crazy shit. He couldn’t wait to drop me at home so he could go after you.”
I looked into her eyes and saw someone who was haunted. “You are not to blame, but I forgive you.”
“If you knew he was coming you could’ve gotten away. Maybe if I’d called the police sooner….”
“Could’ve, should’ve, would’ve…you’re not doing yourself any favors. You have to let go of the guilt. Sophie, listen. Your brother’s in prison where he belongs. I was still in the hospital at the time, but I heard your testimony helped put him there. You’ve done everything you can and more than you should.”
As we walked back to the car, I said, “That dance was the first time I wore a dress in public. I was so scared, but Jason was sweet. The jocks taking tickets didn’t want to let us in until you told them off. I think you said something about my dress being pretty, but I don’t remember for sure.”
“I said ‘He has more balls than all of you put together to show up in a pretty dress, so let them in.’ I was already feeling bad for jumping on the bandwagon to bully you two when you looked so happy together. I was jealous that it wasn’t like that for me with my boyfriends.”
“High school romance seems pretty meaningless now, though, doesn’t it?”
She laughed, the first genuine laugh I’d heard from her all day. “It does. Hey, are you in contact with your folks?”
“No. The last time Mom called was six years ago to cry about how I didn’t make any grandkids before I ‘threw away the body God gave me,’ and the last time Dad called was on my birthday four years ago. The first thing he did after saying ‘Happy Birthday’ was deadname and misgender me.
“I told him, ‘Your son, Greg, is dead. If you can’t deal with your daughter Grace as I am, then you’re dead to me, too.’ We haven’t spoken since.”
“That sucks.” Sophie leaned her head on my shoulder. “If you want, I’ll be your sister. My family shunned me after I testified against Stephen. They still won’t answer calls or texts, and anything I mail to them gets sent back. I gave up a couple years ago.”
I gave her a ride back to Dot’s and we exchanged numbers. “I’m glad I ran into you, and I’m glad you turned into the person you are,” I said.
“I’m glad you don’t hate me, and I’m glad I got to finally meet the real you,” she said. “Will you be back?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Either way, keep in touch, right?”
“Right.”
I drove back to the airport feeling a mixture of relief and sorrow at leaving. I wasn’t sure whether I’d make another homecoming trip, but at least I knew it wasn’t as dire as I’d feared.