Beginner's Guide to Gold Digging: Chapter 23

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A Beginner's Guide to Catfishing by Helena Stacy

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A Beginner's Guide to Convalescence (Part II)

3 Days Later

Lily

We drove with the ocean to our right as we headed back from my checkup. The doctor said my vagina was healing very nicely, and faster than expected. If I was lucky, I’d be able to get some proper use out of it before the end of August. The wind blew over us as Cris drove us through the gorgeous Cape Cod landscape. We both wore sunglasses, and I wrapped a scarf over my hair to prevent it from getting tossed around too much. I’d decided to keep straightening it for the time being, at least until it grew out long enough that it was past my shoulders when curly. And hey, it made me feel cute, even if I did love my curls. And even if Cris kept flinching whenever I laughed at the obvious pun and then pretending like he hadn’t. We really needed to talk about that at some point; there was clearly something bothering him. 

In fairness, it seemed like there were several things bothering him. The good news was we had all weekend to talk about it.

“You still good to stay at the beach house this weekend?” Cris asked.

“Hell yeah,” I said. “Just as long as we won’t get in trouble. I mean, isn’t it technically squatting now that you’re cut off?”

“Yes, but also my dad isn’t gonna find out and probably won’t care if he does,” Cris said. “Besides, don’t act like the risk of getting caught doesn’t get your motor running a bit.”

“Pfft, someone’s angling for a blowjob, I see.”

“Maybe,” he said with that beautifully punchable grin. 

“Well, I suppose this is why you force-femmed and converted me, after all.”

He grunted. 

My forehead wrinkled. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Fuck’s sake, Winfield. Honesty- we’re honest with each other now!”

Cris sighed. But he acquiesced, and I loved him for that. We weren’t perfect, and we were still learning the ropes of this whole ‘direct communication thing’ in the wake of spending the first few months of our courtship keeping everything bottled up, but he was trying, and he always came clean when I poked him on it. “Okay, uh… I know this is probably silly, but sometimes when you make that joke, it makes me a little uncomfortable? Like, kinda guilty?”

“Guilty? Cris, you didn’t actually convert me. It’s just a joke.”

“I know it’s just a joke, I do,” he sighed again. “But… Look, I spent a really long time doing everything I could not to be… That kinda guy? You know, the kind who meets a lesbian and takes it as a challenge? Like, the whole thing with Julia… It fucked with my head, I guess. And it was years ago, so it’s stupid that I’m still hung up on it, but I am, and I’m just worried that… That I am that guy. That being with you makes me that guy. And again, it’s stupid, and it’s asinine, and it’s self-obsessed, but it’s… Fuck. It’s how I feel.”

I pursed my lips, put my hand on his shoulder. Oh, Cris. My sweet, considerate, honorable douchebag. “Cris. You are not that guy. I promise you. Yes, you were the one who helped me realize I like dudes, but that’s mostly because you went out of your way not to act like you were fixing me. You treated me like a person and you got to know me and you made me feel good about myself. You were my friend before you were anything else, and a damn good friend who respected me and met me where I was and just generally was a great hangout. And like, yeah, maybe if I’d never met you I wouldn’t have figured it out, but it could’ve been some other guy. There are other good ones in the world besides you, ya know. Hell, it could’ve been a girl: I could’ve dated a bi girl and one day she points out a hot guy when we’re in public and I find myself agreeing way too enthusiastically for my liking, prompting some serious introspection. It didn’t have to be you. But I’m very, very glad it was you.”

Those hunky shoulders of his un-tensed, much to my delight. “Thank you. I really needed to hear that.”

“Look, if it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll stop making the joke-”

“No, if I don’t have to filter myself around you, then you shouldn’t have to filter yourself around me. I just need to get over this weird fucking baggage I have and… Dammit, do I need therapy or something?”

“You said it, not me,” I laughed. “But also, yeah, probably. You, uh, maybe wanna do a joint session with me and mine? We can talk all this out, chart a course to meet in the middle?”

“That sounds nice,” he smiled. 

“Good,” I said. “I’ll set it up on Monday, hopefully get it cleared for my next session.”

“Cool. Can I ask you something, though?”

“Sure!”

“You keep making the joke, but… Do you want it to be true?”

“I… Hm,” I trailed off. “I like the idea of giving up control. And I like it when you tell me what to do. I think that’s part of it.”

“Ohhhh,” Cris said, eyebrows shooting up. Behind the glasses, I could see him switching into horny-mode. “I think I understand now. This is definitely something we can talk about.”

“I look forward to it,” I grinned back. Yeah, he was getting a blowjob tonight. Not that he wasn’t getting those frequently, because it turned out I really like giving head, but still. He deserved a treat. 

We parked in front of the beach house, Cris handing me the keys while he got our weekend bags out of the trunk. I officially now required a full roll-away bag even for short trips, just to contain all my makeup and skincare products in addition to my clothes, and I was proud of myself for that. Taking pride in my appearance, wanting to look a certain way, it wasn’t anything to be ashamed of. No matter what Olivia had taught me, or what I had taught myself. 

I stuck the key in the front door to find… It was unlocked. 

I blinked. 

Okay, there was a chance Lydia had come down here at some point, or that Cris had just forgotten to lock it when we’d last been here. But there was also a chance…

“Hey, Cris,” I said.

“Yeah, angel?”

“Put the bags down for a second. We’re gonna need to do a sweep of the house,” I said, twisting the doorknob. 

“Shit,” he grimaced as my implication sunk in. 

“It could be nothing.”

“It could also be a burglar,” he said. “Stay behind me. You got your switchblade on you?”

I retrieved it and clicked it open. I’d gotten it after the whole industrial sabotage incident, and started carrying it and a can of mace in my Kate Spade whenever I went out. It was a necessary precaution. And it had a pink handle! “Girl’s best friend, present and accounted for.”

“God, you’re hot,” Cris said in a fleeting, dreamy tone before getting his game-face on. He switched into macho-protective mode very quickly, and given the situation, I more than welcomed it. He knew I could take care of myself… But he was also bigger than me and hadn’t had a major operation a month erstwhile that he was still recovering from. 

He gently pushed open the door, fists balled and at the ready, while I followed close behind with my knife. Quietly, we prowled through the front hallway, heading towards the living room for our sweep of the first floor…

Where we found Preston, sitting on the couch with a haunted look on his face as he stared at a pink dress splayed out on the coffee table in front of him. 

The Kill Bill music started playing in my head while we all stared each other down, Cris’ fists lowering but his posture shifting towards abject confusion. I retracted the blade and put it back in my purse while looking at Preston through narrow eyes and with a wide-open jaw. Pres, for his (?) part, simply looked stunned. 

One of us needed to talk first. Say anything. Do anything. 

Guess it was gonna have to be me. How far I’d come. “That’s a very pretty dress, Preston. You gonna try it on?”

“I… I… No,” the blonde said, eyes wide and fists gathered.

“Then what are you doing with it?”

“It’s a… It’s a gift. For you. A peace-offering.”

“It’s not really my size,” I pointed out. “Not nearly enough room up front or in the back. Looks like it’d fit you perfectly though.”

Preston blinked again. 

Then he turned around and made a bee-line for the sliding-glass backdoor. 

Cris was able to catch up to him, grabbing him before he could pull the door open. 

“Let go of me!”

“Not until you explain what you’re doing here!” Cris said. 

“You first!”

“I was driving the woman I love back from an important check-up! We decided to spend the night here because we have a special attachment to this place. It’s where we were first sexually intimate!”

“Babe, he does not need to know that part,” I winced. 

“Now tell me what you’re doing here,” Cris said, holding Preston in an arm-lock. 

“I… I’ve been staying here. I’ve been… Been squatting here.”

“I thought you were staying with Josh?”

“I lied,” Preston whined. 

Cris let go of Pres, but kept him backed up against the glass sliding door that led out to the beach. “Why?”

“I still haven’t talked to Josh in over a year. I’m… Too ashamed.”

“Why are you ashamed?” 

Preston clammed up again, bunching his eyes shut and his fists together. 

“Does your shame have anything to do with that dress?” I asked gently. 

A low grunt sounded behind his closed lips. 

Cris, in a show of good faith, backed up and held his palms flat in front of him. 

“Did you buy that dress for yourself?”

Preston shook his head. Her head? No, no, best not to assume anything. 

I walked over and held it up, running my hands over the soft fabric. It was frilly and poofy, almost like a cotillion gown. Something like Karen might wear to a formal event, though long enough to accommodate Preston’s comparatively taller, lankier frame. So probably not stolen from his mom. He and Claudia were about the same height, around five foot nine, so he could have gotten this from her, but this wasn’t Claudia’s style at all: it wasn’t slutty enough (a descriptor I applied with immense affection). 

I walked over and held the dress over Preston. “Well, if it helps, I think this would look beautiful on you, Pres.”

Preston gulped, cheeks burning bright red. 

I continued, “Is there anything else you might want to be called instead of Preston? Something that doesn’t feel like you’re getting stabbed in the soul every time you hear it?”

He nodded. 

“What?”

“L-Lavender,” she said. “He used to… Used to call me Lavender.”

“Who did?”

“The person who gave me that dress.”

Suddenly, it was starting to make sense. And Cris apparently agreed with my unuttered sentiment. “Josh?”

“No. No, not Josh. Someone else. I never mentioned him because… I didn’t want to have to explain. To… Well, you get the idea.”

“I think I do, yeah,” I said. 

“Pr… Lavender,” Cris said, saying the name out loud to make sure it sounded right on his tongue. His posture softened, relaxed. Like he finally knew what the puzzle he was trying to solve was supposed to look like. “Are you trans?”

“No!” Lavender snapped. 

The lady doth in fact protest too much. Oh God, this was gonna give me flashbacks. 

“Okay,” I replied with a casual shrug. “Whatever you say, lady.”

Preston balked. “I-”

“You seem very comfortable in your gender identity, after all,” I continued. “Lavender Winfield. It’s a nice name. Shame you don’t wanna use it. Girly girl.”

“I never said that!” Lavender said. “It’s just… It’s all so complicated.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know how to be a girl!”

“There’s no right way to be a girl, missy,” I said. “But if you want, I could show you a few things that work for me.”

Lavender grimaced, closed her eyes tight again, but then nodded shallowly. 

“Cool,” I said. “Cris, why don’t you go into town, grab us some food to cook up tonight while I give Lavender a makeover?”

“You sure you can handle all this, Lily?” he said. 

“Don’t worry, my love,” I said, “I’m in familiar territory right now.”

He kissed my cheek, then said, “Okay. I’ll head to the grocery store. Be back in thirty.”

“We’ll be waiting,” I said, “Your fiance and your little sister both.”

Lavender just whined. 

I checked out his butt while he left. God, I never got tired of doing that. Then, once he closed the door behind him, I turned back to Lavender. “Okay, brosephine. Strip.”

“What?!”

“Put on the dress, then I’ll help with your makeup. Then we’re gonna have a long talk about all this. Understand?”

“I- I-”

“You said you wanted to make it up to me, for being an asshole when we first met,” I pointed out. “This is how it starts.”

She exhaled. “Okay. Okay, fine.”

I turned my back while Lavender got dressed, and when I saw her… I saw HER. Yeah, yeah this was definitely an egg. She looked so damn relieved and joyous, even with all her coltish trepidation. Like a mask that had been glued to her face was finally off of her, and her skin could truly breathe for the first time in months. 

Once my makeup was secured, I started blending foundation over Lavender’s face. She did have a healthy tan about her now, unlike when we first met back in June, so it wasn’t a completely imperfect match. Not perfect, but still- it was a start. 

“So, why don’t you tell me about this guy who gave you this dress, who named you Lavender,” I said, holding her face steady. 

“He didn’t name me Lavender,” she whispered. “I named myself that. He said I… He said if we were gonna… That I needed a girl name. And lavender is my favorite flower.”

“I get that. Mine are lilies,” I smiled. “How did you two meet?”

“We met… We met through Crispin.”

I furrowed my brow. “Uh… Beg pardon?”

“It’s… Please don’t tell Cris about this, he’ll kill him.”

“Kill who?”

“Chuck,” she said, mostly to herself. 

I blanched, heart freezing mid-beat as the revelation pulverized my thought process. “Sorry, Chuck who nearly assaulted me at that party last month? Chuck the probable emu-poacher and industrial saboteur? That Chuck?”

She nodded very slightly. 

“So he’s just a full-on chaser, then?”

“Yeah,” she said, still whispering. 

“And he… Sorry, how old were you when the two of you-”

“You really don’t wanna know the answer to that question,” Lavender said with a nihilistic laugh, the kind that comes vibrating up from the deepest depths of the abyss after staring into it for days on end. Yeah, this was definitely giving me flashbacks.

“I really do, Lavender, I really fucking do,” I said, angrily coating her eyelashes with mascara. “Because if he’s a groomer on top of everything else-”

“He’s not a groomer!” Lavender said. “We met when I was sixteen- that’s perfectly within the age of consent in Massachusetts.”

“When you were sixteen, Cris would have been twenty-four. He and Chuck are the same age, Lavender.”

“That’s not illegal!”

“It doesn’t make it okay!” I said, holding her face steady with my free hand. “If Cris and I had met when I was sixteen and he was twenty-two, it would have been weird. Maybe not ‘Cris goes to jail’ weird, but still weird. “Are you two still-”

“No!” Lavender said. “We haven’t in over a year. It’s the real reason I moved back home- I thought if I did, and maybe I tried being me, then Chuck… Then he wouldn’t marry the girl he’s with, and he’d have… He’d have picked me instead. But when I got there, and I poured my heart out to him, he acted like he had no idea what I was talking about. Like I’d never been Lavender in the first place. Like he’d never given me this dress.”

Oh, this poor, stupid girl, I thought with a pitying grimace and a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry he did that to you.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I did what I did to you.”

“Thank you,” I echoed. “Look, you have to know that Chuck is bad news-”

“After what he did on the Fourth, trust me, I see that clearly now,” Lavender said. “He… He uses people. He takes what he wants from them and throws them away, and when you try to fight back, he just… Stampedes right over you. No wonder he and Olivia get along so well.”

“Is he the person who introduced you to Olivia?” I asked, dabbing her cheeks with blush. 

Lavender nodded. “Chuck brought me to his country club once. Didn’t let me… Made me go as Preston, told me there was someone he wanted me to meet. And there she was. God, she… She saw right through me. Maybe Chuck told her about me in advance, but either way, she glommed onto me real quick and wouldn’t let go. This was before Chuck started trying to convince me he didn’t know anything about this side of me- just said there was another polo player he wanted me to meet, thought we would have a lot to talk about. I think he was just… Just getting bored of me, so he wanted to pawn me off onto his friend.”

“Fucking chasers,” I growled. 

“But Olivia’s a girl.”

“Doesn’t mean she’s not a chaser, trust me,” I said. “She spent two years trying to force me into this butch lesbian fucktoy role, and I was so convinced that it was the best I’d ever get that I let her do it. You don’t have to answer this part, but did she ever… Did she ever ask you to use your-”

“Yes,” Lavender said. 

“And were you in any remote way comfortable with that?”

“I cried the whole time,” she said, hands trembling. “And she… She mocked me for it.”

“Guess we have a lot in common, then,” I said, putting down the makeup and giving her a big hug. Her hands slowly relaxed, and she hugged me back. “You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay. I promise. And just so you know, you can just… Be a girl, if that’s what you want.”

“I’m not worthy,” she said. 

“Oh fuck that,” I said. “Nobody’s worthy or not worthy. You’re just you.”

“What if I’m not? What if I’m the exception to the rule and I’m really not worthy. What if I’m too far gone?”

“Then start walking it back,” I said simply. “Fix yourself. If you don’t like who you are, just… Be someone else.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“Trust me, it’s not simple. It’s hard work. But it’s worth it. I was so damn miserable for so long, thought I was stuck being this person I didn’t wanna be.”

“What changed?”

“I met your brother,” I said with a slight smile. “We got off to a rocky start, but after a while, I realized that he wanted to be with me no matter who I was. That he saw all of me and accepted even the parts I didn’t like. That he would give me the space to become the person I wanted to be.”

“You changed for him?”

“No, I changed for me,” I said gently. “He was more like… A catalyst. And I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess that you thought Chuck or Olivia might be that person for you?”

“No,” Lavender said. “They always wanted me to be someone else.”

“And who do you want to be?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered. 

“It’s okay. You’ve got all the time in the world. Just let yourself try things. Okay?”

“Okay,” she sobbed. 

“That said, while I appreciate a good cry, I did just spend a lotta time working on your makeup-”

“Sorry, sorry,” she said, reaching for the tissues on the coffee table and dabbing at her watering eyes. 

“It’s okay,” I said, bringing her in for another hug. “It’s okay.”

Crispin

I came home with a bag full of steak, cheese, onions, bell peppers, eggs, and submarine rolls. Maybe it wasn’t technically my home, but it always felt like it. And with Lily… It felt even more like this was my true home. God, I wish we could spend every day here. The two hour commute into the city was way too high an asking price, and the winters on the Cape were brutal, but still. It was nice here. I felt at home at Lily’s place too, though. So maybe it was just her. 

I opened the door, where I found my future wife waiting for me in the kitchen… Alongside my youngest sister. Holy shit, it was like looking at an old photograph of Karen, from when she and my dad first met. Taller, skinnier, shorter-haired, but still. 

“Hey, angel,” I said to Lily. Then, to Lavender, I said, “Hey, sis.”

Lavender hugged me. “Hey.”

Over her shoulder, I mouthed to Lily, ‘Thank you.’ Lily, for her part, gave me a thumbs up and a goofy smile.

“So,” I said, “I got us stuff to make cheesesteaks-”

“Is it because I’m cheesecake?” Lily said. 

I groaned. “Head to reach for that one, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“Anyway, I’m gonna chop up the steak. Lily, do you mind prepping the veggies?”

“Not one bit,” she said. God, she was over the moon… And it looked slightly forced. Lavender, meanwhile, radiated nervousness. “Lavender, can you be a dear and prepare the cast iron skillet for us? Just needs to be oiled and seasoned. And then after that, could you-”

“What did you ladies talk about while I was gone?” I asked. You ever had an itch you know you shouldn’t scratch, but also can’t stop yourself from reaching for it?

“Uh… You know, girl stuff-”

“I was talking to my sister.”

Lavender reached into the cupboard and retrieved the skillet. “I don’t know if I should tell you.”

I groaned again. Goddammit. No, no, fuck this. Fuck bottling things up. Fuck being a family that doesn’t talk about things! I’d done that for literal decades and all it got me was a festering pool of resentment towards the bulk of my immediate relations. Unlearning all that shit was probably gonna require years of therapy. So I went ahead and clawed at the itch, because sometimes… Sometimes you just really need to scratch. “Lavender. Lily and I recently discovered this thing called being honest with each other. It works wonders. Now, if you could please-”

“I lost my virginity to Chuck when I was sixteen and he was twenty-four,” Lavender spat out. “He caught me trying on Mom’s clothes, and he held it over my head and we started hanging out and he… He was so sweet except for when he wasn’t and he and I kept… And every time I thought it meant that he loved me and he… He…”

I was holding a cleaver while she spoke. I didn’t let it go as I marched towards the front door, a volcano going off inside me. “Excuse me a minute, I have a homicide to commit”. 

Lily jumped in between me and the door. “Babe. No.”

“He’s a monster!”

“I agree.”

“I’m gonna kill him!”

“No, you’re not!”

“Why not?! He hurt you! He hurt my sister for years!”

“Because then you’ll go to jail and probably so will I!” Lily pointed out. “Be it for not stopping you or because one half of the probable saboteurs aren’t caught and I’m left holding the bag for criminal negligence.”

The rage swelling inside my mind and soul and body cooled… Slightly. Very slightly. Enough for me to lower the knife. “Right,” I said, breathing haggardly. 

“Also, you’re making your sister cry,” Lily pointed over my shoulder. 

Lavender was in fact weeping. Fuck. 

I put the knife back on the counter and hugged her again. “I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” she said. 

“But we do need to talk,” I said. “About all this. And… I gotta ask, do you know anything about Chuck and Olivia trying to destroy Lily’s company?”

“No,” Lavender said. “But it sounds like them. Like something they’d do out of spite.” 

“You’re sure?” Lily said, pulling me towards the cutting board again and giving me the knife. Probably for the best: she knew doing something with my hands helped me clear my head. “Anything at all about me or Cris, or about Kyle’s gym, or hell even emu hunting-”
“Uh… Well, he didn’t say anything about emu specifically,” Lavender said, joining me and Lily at the countertop, watching us chop meat and vegetables together. Taking notes, possibly- God, she needed to learn how to cook. “But I do remember him talking to Olivia at Mom and Dad’s anniversary party. He mentioned something about him and his dad trying to acquire some land in western Mass, so they could set up some game there. They also said the people they were trying to buy it from were being difficult.”

The tumblers in my mind slid into place mid-chop. “Western Mass, you say?”

“Yeah.”

“By any chance, this wouldn’t happen to be, oh, I don’t know, about thirty minutes north of Amherst, would it?”

“Yeah, actually. Why?”

Two Weeks Later

Lily

Another day, another drive. But the purpose behind this one wasn’t nearly as low-stakes as the last one had been. The Gutierrez Farm, the one Cris had been working with Rose and Violetta to take on as a client for their company, came into view ahead of us as the sun began to set. Golden-orange and deep reds bled over the cornfields, now re-planted and lovingly maintained by the re-hired seasonal workers. A handful of cars surrounded the property, private security teams hired to do sweeps every couple of hours to make sure the vandals weren’t gonna try again. They were from the company Trevor used to work for before he became full-time staff at Winfield Manor. Cris has called in the favor and gotten VDAC a friends-and-family discount to keep the Senoras Gutierrez safe. 

Tonight, however, most of them would be getting a well-deserved night off, save for a single SUV full of the best men and women they had on payroll.

We parked out front, and Camilla Gutierrez was waiting for us on the porch. She waved as we got out of the car. She was a beautiful woman, clad in jeans and a baggy t-shirt, radiating strength and dignity. 

I’d learned Spanish from some of the guys on my crew, so I spoke it as we approached the front door. “Good evening! Nice to finally meet you. I’m Lily.”

“Nice to meet you as well, Lily,” Camilla answered, shaking my hand and beckoning us inside. 

Her wife, Rosario, a short but sturdy woman in her early forties with hair that was more gray than black and hard-earned wrinkles from a career spent out in the sun, was preparing tortas for us in the kitchen. I introduced myself, and she hugged me before I could finish my sentence. I liked her already. 

Cris put the sixer of craft beer from Barrel House Z on the table and leaned against the counter. “I come bearing good news. The bosses signed off. Gutierrez Farms are officially one of VDAC’s priority clients for the next five years minimum.”

“Thank you so much,” Rosario said. “This has… This has been a big help.”

“Of course,” I nodded. “And you’re sure about what we’re doing tonight? We can call it off if you want-”

“Fuck that,” Camilla said. “I want that those fuckers to rot in jail for what they did.”

“Well… We can’t promise anything, but this could be a good start.”

Camilla opened a beer and raised it high. “Fingers crossed.”

I did the same. “Salud.”

“Salud,” all three trans women said. 

Once the food was prepared, we went outside and sat at a metal dinner table on the patio. We ate. We drank. We were merry. The sun outside set while we enjoyed each other’s company, Rosario telling us about how she and Camilla met while Camilla was doing a semester abroad studying agriculture at UMass Amherst. Camilla had hatched a few years into their relationship, was terrified of losing it all, but Rosario had accepted her, told her that she was the same way, and they were married only a few weeks later. 

Around 9:30, I heard a rustling in the corn-stalks. 

All of our heads jerked towards the source of the noise. 

The long neck and bizarre face of an emu poked out. 

A hand reached out as well, dragging the emu backwards into the corn by the neck. 

Vindication! 

Cris mouthed ‘go back inside’ to the ladies of the house and went towards the source of the disturbance. I grabbed my switchblade and dove in after him. 

By the time I caught up to Cris, he had Chuck pinned down against the ground, the emu walking in circles around us. Green stocks of corn surrounded us on all sides. I texted one of the security guards who’d hidden in the barn, telling them to meet us. And to call the contact we’d found at Fish & Wildlife. 

But first, we had the fucker all to ourselves. 

Cris slammed his fist into Chuck’s face. “That’s for the Gutierrez family!” He brought down a second blow. “That’s for Lavender!” He raised his fist again. “And this for Lily-”

I caught his elbow before he could deliver the final blow. 

Cris whipped his head towards me. “Lily. Shit, I’m going overboard, aren’t I-”

“No, I just wanted to hit him myself,” I said. Then I kicked Chuck in the ribs. 

“God, you’re hot,” Cris muttered.

The piece of human garbage known as Chuck Davies groaned in pain… Only to then erupt with laughter. 

“What’s so funny, asshole?” I said. 

“You thinking I’m gonna see the inside of a jail cell is funny, you stupid tranny,” Chuck spat. “You’ve got nothing.”

“We’ve got you for trespassing and vandalism,” I said. “And emu-trafficking. Which links you to what you did to my construction project.”

“No it doesn’t.”

“How many other emu traffickers do you think there are in Massachusetts?”

Chuck’s swelling face finally flickered with panic. Gotcha, you vile motherfucker. 

“Hey, I wouldn’t worry too much,” Cris smirked. “If you give up your accomplice, you’ll probably get off easy.”

The flicker of panic turned incandescent.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Chuck said, voice quivering and lips trembling with panic. 

“Bullshit, you don’t,” I spat. 

“There’s no collaborator. It’s all-”

“It was me!” a new voice called out. And out from the corn emerged Chuck’s wife, Valentina, holding an emu on a leash. She looked even more terrified than her husband did. “It was all me. I did everything. Including sabotaging your site!”

I’d never heard a more obvious lie in my entire life. I also had no idea why she would lie about something like this.
But Chuck… Chuck said nothing. 

He said nothing as Crispin and I tried to question him, said nothing as security came and grabbed him and Valentina both, said nothing as the feds carted his wife away. 

The bastard was smiling the entire time it happened. 

15 Days Later

Crispin

“How’d the trial go?” Rose asked as we entered the elevator together at the top floor of VDAC. We’d gotten the go-ahead to resume construction on Kyle’s gym come next week, and we hadn’t heard from Chuck or Olivia in that time, but still… 

The whole thing made me sick to my stomach. 

“Valentina is getting six months at some minimum security country club prison in Worcester,” I said as the elevator doors closed. I hit the button for the ground floor; Julia was coming to pick us both up so she and Rose could have a girls’ night with Lily, Heather, and Lisa at our place. I was due to hop into a rideshare to meet Kyle, Adam, and Rachel at Bar Here, and Rob was having his weekly poker night with some of the construction workers. 

Labor Day was fast approaching. Summer was almost over. Lily would be able to start working again, and if all went well she’d be able to take penetration in another month. Lavender was safe at the beach house, teaching herself stuff like the basics of cooking and cleaning, and we went down every weekend to check on her. She still hadn’t come out to the rest of the family, though she seemed like she was working her way up to it. 

Things were good. On paper, at least, they were good. But I still felt like it wasn’t enough. Like I hadn’t done enough. 

“I wonder if it’s the same ‘jail’ where Mallory is plotting her revenge against me,” Rose grimaced, eyes dilating as she spoke of that horrible woman. 

“Quite possibly,” I said. “Have you talked to her at all-”

“If I ever see that monster again, it will be too soon,” Rose said. 

“Good answer,” I said. “Hey, there’s something I wanted to run by you-”

“We’re not doing a dual wedding for me and Kyle and you and Lily,” Rose said flatly. 

“What? Of course we’re not. Why would you-”

“Julia has been teasing me by suggesting it. God, I forgot how incorrigible she is. And she’s been so weird lately; says she’s been seeing this girl off and on but refuses to dish. And this is her we’re talking about: she loves to dish!”

“Right,” I said. “Rest assured, Lily and I are not gonna steal your wedding. We’re not setting a date until after you and Kyle have yours.”

“Much appreciated. So, what did you want to ask me about?”
“Kyle’s gym should be done in another month, at least on the construction end,” I pointed out. “And we’re investing in the Gutierrez farm as well. I was thinking. What if we set up a whole division for investing in queer-owned businesses.”

“That’s… That’s brilliant! Holy shit! God, I wish I’d thought of that- I’ve been so busy with everything I haven’t had time to think about what comes next but… Cris, that’s good!”

“Thank you,” I said. “You should pitch it to Violetta.”

“You sure you don’t wanna-”

“It shouldn’t be me,” I said immediately. “I wanna work with you on this, do some scouting and fixing and negotiating, but it shouldn’t be someone like me heading this thing up. It should be you. Violetta. Hell, Adam too once he’s got his feet a bit more wet.” 

“That’s… Honestly really cool of you, Cris,” Rose smiled as the elevator door opened. 

“Glad you approve,” I said as we walked out into the front lobby. 

“We’ll draw up the initial pitch together next week, and I’ll set up a meeting with Violetta to get her approval on it,” Rose said. “This is exciting! And Adam will be thrilled too, I’m sure!”

“Hell yeah,” I said as we made it outside and approached Julia’s car. 

By the time we got to Lily and I’s place, Heather and Lisa’s cars were already out front. I opened the front door with the girls behind me to find… That Lavender was there too. 

Lily jumped on me before I could even get into the front door. She wore a denim miniskirt that showed off the tattoo she’d recently added to her outer right thigh to celebrate going back to work: a teal-scaled mermaid with curly brown hair and her arm over her breasts and a coy smile on her face. It suited her perfectly, though I liked the other one she’d gotten a little bit better. It wasn’t a matching tramp-stamp with mine per se, but it did give us a bit of synergy I liked a lot. 

God, I couldn’t wait to fuck this girl again. 

I held her in my arms as I advanced into her house, her face burrowing into my neck. Her hair was curly again, long enough to touch her shoulders, and her red lips were begging to be ruined by my cock. Dammit, I didn’t know if I could wait another hour, let alone another month. 

I recited Le Morte D’Arthur’s opening verses in my head to try to calm my boner down as I brought my fiance over to the couch. Void was asleep in Heather’s arms, Lisa next to her and knitting what looked like a hat together with red yarn, while Lavender sat nervously on another couch with her hands bunching up the hem of her dress. 

“Ladies,” I said as I deposited Lily in her seat and kissed her temple. 

“Hey, Cris,” Heather and Lisa said simultaneously. 

“Hey, bro,” Lavender said softly. Her girl-voice still needed some work, though it was starting to get a bit better. 

“Hey,” I said. “Surprised to see you up here.”

“I invited her,” Lily said. 

“Good thinking,” I said, sitting next to Lily and holding her tight. I could bum a few minutes before I headed to the bar. Julia and Rose made their way towards us as well, pulling up chairs and sitting down. 

“It’s nice to see you, Lavender,” Rose said. “I know we’ve met a few times before, but… Well, now we’re really ourselves, so it’s a bit like meeting for the first time.”

“Thanks,” Lavender said, looking at the floor. “I’m still not sure this is me, though.”

Lily just rolled her eyes. 

“Take all the time you need, dear,” Lisa said gently, but still not looking up from her knitting. 

“There was one thing I wanted to tell you and Lily about though,” Lavender said. “My mom texted me today. She said… She said I’m invited to the big Labor Day party on Martha’s Vineyard. And that I should tell you guys about it as well.”

“Do you want to go?” I asked. 

“Not really. But I think I should,” Lavender said. “Because I know for a fact Olivia is gonna be there. And probably so will Chuck, too.”

I blinked. “Go on.”

“I know you’re pissed that neither of them are taking the heat for what they did,” Lavender said. “But if there’s some way to fix that… I want to help. If we can get one or both of them to confess in public, in front of everyone… It would be a start.”
Lily and I locked eyes, and while I can’t say exactly what was going through her head, I got the sense we were on the same wavelength here. 

Lily spoke first: “I think we can work with this.”

I spoke second: “I couldn’t agree more, angel.”