“I’m sure we’ll survive, hon.” Dad winks, then blows Mom a kiss. She blushes, and it’s in moments like these that the familiar sensation of longing builds in my chest. Because I want what Mom and Dad have. I want the intimacy, and the fondness, and the evident love between them. I want all of it. I used to believe I couldn’t have it, and that no one would want someone like me, but since I’ve transitioned, I’ve started believing that maybe I can. Maybe I deserve it, too. Maybe there’s a guy out there who wants it as much as I do. Someone with whom I can feel safe enough to fall in love. Someone who can love me back just the way I am, and not despite who I am and what I’m not. I’ll never have the body of a cis man, but I’m okay with that now. I’m as close as I’ll ever get, and that is enough. I just hope it can be enough for someone else, too.
“A penny for your thoughts,” Caleb whispers against my ear as his strong arms wrap around my shoulders from behind. I lean back against his solid comfort and look up into two pools of granite gray, smiling.
“It’s nothing. I’m just a little bummed that we can’t go for a ride later.” I’m not lying. Iwashoping Caleb and I could sneak away after dinner and drive down the coast as the sun dipped behind the vast blue ocean. I’d love to feel the wind in my new haircut and the salty air filling my lungs.
“Soon,” he drawls, then squeezes me tightly before letting me go. “I promise, Little K. Soon.”
“Asshole,” I hiss as I kick back and hit him on his shin. He just laughs.
“You’re still little,” he teases. “And you’re K. So I might be an asshole, just ask Stace, but I’m not lying, sweetheart.”
“Are you two done?” Mom looks between us, her hands planted on her hips. I look at Caleb, and he looks at me, and then we both snort, “Sorry.”
I’m not, though, not really. It feels good to laugh and fuck around and just be as carefree as I’ve always longed to be. I just hope the feeling will last once real life kicks in and I have to live in my hometown as Kayden and not as the girl people once knew me as. I’m not naïve; I know that while some of them will understand and accept me, there are those who’ll be decent enough to only whisper about me behind my back, while others will show their disapproval and disgust right to my face. I need to be prepared for that. But at least for tonight, I’m safe and loved.
Chapter Four
Caleb
Even for a Monday, we’re unusually busy. Now that we’ve finally gotten the delayed plywood shipment, we have a lot of catching up to do. Everyone’s come in today, even those who usually have Mondays off. I called around last night, and everyone agreed to work in exchange for an extra day off over the summer. I know I didn’t have to—our employees are a loyal bunch and would’ve come in anyway—but fair is fair. Once our business really took off ten years ago, we hired most of our staff locally. Our small town had been hit by a wave of unemployment after a large shipyard went out of business. The atmosphere around town was dismal, and many families were struggling to make ends meet. When we experienced our success, it was never a question for Sal and me that we wanted to hire locally. Many we already knew from school or through our parents. They weren’t exactly used to making sailboats, but they’re hard, dedicated workers. Over the years, a good chunk of our profit has gone toward extra courses for our staff, but it’s been more than worth it. Our reputation is flawless, and the product we deliver is outstanding.
“Looks good, Dev.” I wave at our oldest staff member, Devon Taylor, during my morning round. He looks up, his trademark toothpick stuck between his teeth. Devon’s oursailguy, as he prefers to call it. He knows everything there is to know about sails.
“Thanks, kid.” Devon moves the toothpick to the other side of his mouth with a grin. Devon was friends with my dad until he passed three years ago, one year before my mom. My parents were well into their forties and had given up on having kids when they had me, their ‘surprise baby.’ I miss them every day, and now Sal, Vivian, and Kayden are the closest to a family that I have.
I pat Devon’s shoulder, then carry on with my usual rounds and check in with everyone. Carol, one of our painters, tells me about her grandson’s Little League game over the weekend and how “Bobbie and his team were robbed, I tell you. And you should’ve come, Caleb.”
I laugh and give her a side hug. “Next time, Carol,” I promise. I’ve gone to a few this year already. It’s good fun, and it makes Carol happy. She lost her husband last year, and I know she gets lonely. Hell, so do I sometimes.
When I’m done, I go to check in on Kayden in the office. It’s his first day, and he told me this morning that he was going to get familiar with our website and shout if he had any questions. No shouting so far, so either he’s passed out from sheer mortification, or he’s elbows deep in damage control.
I pop my head around the door just when Kayden groans loudly into his hands.
“That bad, huh?” I grin, and he looks up. His cheeks are flushed a deep pink, and his hair is all mussed up in the front, like he’s been pulling at it. The sleeves on his sky-blue shirt are rolled up to his elbows, and the color collides with his eyes when he glares at me.Arresting.The word comes to mind out of nowhere. Kayden’s eyes are arresting; they always have been, sucking you right in.
I shake myself and smile even wider. It usually helps. I have a disarming smile, or so I’m told.
“Don’t smile at me like that,” Kayden huffs, then balls together a piece of paper and throws it in my direction.
I just manage to dodge the paper ball, then lift my hands disarmingly. “Sweetheart, please. That’s against company policy.”
Kayden snorts, but a small smile grows at the corner of his mouth. “You’re a lying liar who lies, Caleb. So’s my dad.”
I gasp in shock, clutching my chest. “Harsh!”
“It’s true. You guys told me you had a website.”
“We do,” I counter as I move inside the cramped office and around the desk. Kayden eyes me overbearingly.
“Sorry to break it to you, big guy, but you don’t. This,”—he points at the computer screen—“isnota website. It’s a travesty.”
I blink at the screen, but all my brain zeroes in on is the casually spokenbig guy.That’s what that guy,dicKmedown,called me. I’ve been online a couple of times since, but there’s been no sign of him. If I’m being honest, I’m a little bummed about that because I could’ve easily gone for round two or three. He was hot. Well, his ass was hot. That tan line. You don’t see tan lines like that often.Damn.
When I groan, Kayden mistakes the source for something else.
“You can groan all you want, Caleb, but it looks like I got here just in time.”
I lick my lips, then swallow, focusing back on the screen. Objectively speaking, Kayden’s right. It looks like crap. Like someone high onmushrooms or something made it. It’s a real eyesore, and I doubt it brings in any new business. The colors and the layout are all over the place, and it isn’t exactly intuitive or user-friendly. It bears witness to two guys growing their business with zero time to promote it online, which is true. Most of our clients over the years have come through word-of-mouth. I know we have a Facebook account, but I can’t remember the last time we posted something.