Set in the same universe as "Becoming Robin," 17 year old Riley just had no direction in life. College wasn't in the cards, not for a lack of options, but for a lack of interest. "I'm just not college material" was his refrain. But he didn't want to sit home doing nothing while his two older sisters regularly attended the nearby ivy leagues.
He happened across a help wanted ad, no experience, just bring a can do attitude, and things very quickly escalated. But the job has promotional prospects, and it's a great place to work too. He just has to keep towing the line of letting everyone think he's a girl. That's not so hard. But is he even pretending, or is the experience, being a green eyed maid at the Green-Eyed Maid, opening him up to a side of himself, or herself, that she never realized was there until now?
And what about his younger sister, Avery, recently out as lesbian, and dealing with her girlfriend's parents' less than favorable reaction? Can the two young lovers navigate this complicated and for them, extremely unpolitical tragedy of comedies, or will it become a comedy of tragedies?
The Green-Eyed Maid Inn
Author's Note:
Really quick up top, if you don't know me that is totally understandable. I haven't been very active for quite a long time, and I apologize for that. I love love love this community though, and as I'm trying to get back into writing and picking up the pieces of my shattered life, I can only ask that you bear with me.
This is, unlike past work, not completed yet. I have TONS of ideas on where I want this story to go, and a fairly definite idea of how I want it to "end" so it won't be one of those "Will you ever finish this?" things I'm unfortunately known for doing in the past.
But, I've been having so much fun writing this story that I just couldn't hold back on sharing it with you all. This is a story that, in the short time I've worked on it, has made me laugh several times, and burst into tears more than once. It's very much romcom adjacent, if not the stereotypical romcom formula, but that's not to say it doesn't get a little serious at times. Anyway, I hope that you enjoy this first chapter.
I'd like to keep up a weekly posting cadence, and I'm already several chapters ahead of that goal that are ready for posting, so, fingers crossed, hey?
~ Zoë
That was all the ad said, but as a broke kid with no real idea what I wanted to do with my life, it sounded like the lifeline I needed.
My parents were generous enough to let me figure things out at least. I mean, sure, my two older sisters were both attending Harvard with one planning to go into medical, and my younger sister Avery, who was only 16 was already getting scholarship offers. I was proud of them, as were my parents, but I was closer in reality to a lot of my family. Kate and Fiona were practically unique in getting into an ivy league college.
We were Dorchester Irish, the stereotypical “Boston Irish” everyone thinks of, and there was no shame in that. But the world was changing fast. The job market was bad even for college graduates, and I was getting tired of sitting at home, not being able to afford to go out and have a social life or make friends, and college just felt like a waste of time - their time, not mine, seeing as like I said, I had no real direction or goals.
And then I ran across the help wanted ad. It was for a place cheesily named The Green Eyed Maid Inn, which I immediately clocked as being one of those historical tourist trap revolutionary/colonial era places. They’re a dime a dozen in New England.
I was half right, too. The place was a mix of colonial old world charm and modern conveniences grudgingly tacked on for guest comfort. The lobby, for example, had a very modern elevator, but the front desk was a Victorian era bar that had been repurposed. The front facade was a patchwork of original masonry and modern touch ups, and the bright green trim around the door and windows looked suspiciously new, but the floors were as much original hardwood as safety inspectors would allow, especially in the back office section, where I now sat, under the watchful gaze of a portrait of the original matron.
The Green Eyed Maid Inn was a bit unusual like that. Even dating back to its founding, they say it was a woman owned business, but looking up at the portrait, I could believe she ran a strict ship. She didn’t look unkind, exactly, but somehow her piercing green eyes and professional expression, combined with perfectly kempt black hair worn in a tight bun, and overall stature, just combined to suggest ‘Behave and I won’t have you thrown in the harbor with the tea.’
I half expected the current owner, a woman by the name of Erika Van Laderman, to be equally intimidating. I stared up from my phone occasionally at the heavy oak door to her office, wondering if she was even inside, or if I’d been forgotten about. I nearly jumped out of my skin when she spoke up next to me.
“Can I help you?” she asked, and then gave a soft laugh. “Sorry.”
“Oh no, that’s okay,” I said, quickly standing as I fumbled with the scant few papers I could cobble together for the interview. I looked up, and then up again. She at least had the stature part of her predecessor. She was wearing black heels, but even so, she had to be at least 5’9” barefoot. Me? 5’6-1/2” if I really stretched myself up. But she had a kind, friendly smile. She couldn’t have been more than 28. “I’m Riley. You’re Mrs. Van Laderman?” I asked.
“Miss, and yes,” she corrected, adding, “But call me Erika,” she said as she offered me her hand. “Good to meet you Riley.”
“I wasn’t sure what documents I’d need to bring,” I said nervously, “So I just brought everything I could think of. I know the ad said no experience necessary, but I wanted to be thorough.”
She cracked a smile at that. “I appreciate the initiative, but you can relax,” she said with a soft laugh. Rather than opening the door to her office, she sat down in the sitting room chair opposite me, so I sat back down as well. “I’ve already done a background check and reviewed your application. This is just an informal interview. I want to size you up, get to know the person behind the camera.”
I blushed a little at that. “Oh... Wow you really have been thorough huh?” I said without thinking. Thankfully this got another laugh from her.
“Let’s just say Boston Latin holds a special place in my heart, especially the newspaper staff. My great grand aunt helped modernize it, back when it was still Girls’ Latin School. I really liked your article on BLA’s cheer squad going to nationals last year.”
“Oh, thanks,” I said sheepishly, beginning to relax. “The girl in the picture, Christie is a really good friend. We actually staged that photo. It was her idea to do an action shot of them performing aerials.”
“You’ve got a keen photographic eye,” Erika said. “I wish I could hire you on as my public relations agent instead of cleaning staff. Maybe in a few months, once tourist season has calmed down a bit,” she added thoughtfully. I brightened at that.
I hadn’t really considered the thought of photography as a professional pursuit. It was just something I did because I enjoyed it.
“Right now,” she continued, “I’ve got about 30 rooms to keep up with plus the restaurant, and we’re constantly short handed on cleaning staff. It’s partly my own fault,” she admitted, surprisin me a bit that she would open up like that to a prospective employee. “I expect a lot from my staff, but that’s also why we’re a popular low key celebrity stop.”
“Really?” I asked. I probably had walked past the old Inn hundreds of times growing up, and I never once saw a limousine or a gaggle of paparazzi waiting in ambush. She nodded.
“We’re off the beaten path, but even celebrities enjoy the historic atmosphere from time to time. That’s my number one rule, by the way - never ask for an autograph while in uniform. If you see a celebrity, treat them as you would any other guest. They’ll usually make it worth your while if they feel you’re sincere,” she added with a wink.
“I can do that,” I answered honestly. “My aunt Rose is a roadie for Hearts of Harvest. She gets me and my sisters backstage to hang out with the band whenever they’re in town so I’ve met a few.”
“Don’t let Claire hear you say that, or she’ll be begging you to take her,” I heard a girl laughing and looked up to see someone who looked about 17 or 18 - my age, wearing a long black dress and white apron with her red hair under a white cap. She looked like she had stepped right out of a period documentary, or a Doctor Who special. “She’ll be BEGGING you to introduce her.”
Erika gave a soft laugh again. “I’m more of a Heedless Despair fan myself, but thanks, Emily. You just gave me the perfect idea for Claire’s birthday.” She glanced back at me with a sheepish grin. “Claire’s my niece, but she’s also a part time employee, and this is Emily McHale. Em, this is Riley. If you can sweet talk her into starting today, I’ll let you handle her on the job training.”
“Wait, what?” I said, but Emily spoke up over me.
“Really!? Oh thank GOD!” she practically squealed as she bounced over to me, grabbed both my hands, and pulled me out of my chair. “C’mon Riley, I’ll show you where you can change. We should have a temp uniform that will fit you, until we can get you some custom tailored costumes.”
“Welcome aboard,” Erika giggled as she stood. “Emily will take good care of you. If you have any questions or need help with anything, please feel free to ask any of your fellow staff or come find me. And don’t forget to put your phone on vibrate while you’re working.”
I felt like I was in a bit of a daze as I let Emily lead me by the hand down the hall. What the heck had just happened, exactly? I think I just got hired, but why did Erika just refer to me as a girl? I didn’t look that much like a girl, did I? At least, I didn’t think I did.
“What’s your shoe size?” Emily asked as she led me into a large dressing area that almost looked like it belonged to a theater troupe, if everyone dressed in dour black and white. Black dresses hung on two long racks, with a stack of neatly folded starched aprons resting nearby, and racks of black shoes lined several shelves.
“Huh?” I said. “Oh, um, 9?” I said. She stopped and looked at me, then down at my feet.
“That seems a little big, but okay,” she said.
“Oh,” I said, realizing I needed to catch up to the conversation. “I’m wearing 9 men’s sneakers. I uh, don’t remember the conversion,” I lied. It was the best I could come up with while trying to figure out the best way to handle this situation.
I mean, on the one hand, it was just a costume, plus what if Erika was only hiring girls for her cleaning staff - you know, the whole maid servant colonial period look? On the other hand ... Actually, I couldn’t think of another hand just at the moment.
“Ah, gotcha,” Emily said. “Well, let’s get you in costume and we’ll sort out the shoe situation afterwards. Don’t be fooled when you meet Claire, by the way. She has a pixie cut too. But she wears a wig because she dyes her natural hair purple.”
That got a laugh out of me. “And purple hair wasn’t exactly something you saw every day back then, huh?”
“Yeah,” Emily giggled. “I know they stopped the witch burnings like a hundred years earlier, but they’d probably make an exception for that one!”
After a few minutes, I found myself emerging from the changing room looking more or less exactly like Emily - black dress, white apron, white cap, black stockings, black shoes, and even red hair, although my eyes were green, unlike her soft blues. It felt very, very strange, like walking around in a bathrobe with nothing but underwear underneath, and the petticoats kept tickling my legs. But if I looked like a girl before, there was absolutely no mistaking me for a boy now.
“So, tip numero uno,” Emily said as she folded the right side of her apron forward, showing me the inside back. “There’s a little pocket right here for your phone. If you put it on vibrate, you’ll be able to feel it more easily. We communicate via text when no guests are looking, so usually bathrooms, the back offices, cleaning supply closets.”
“Speaking of cleaning supply closets,” I said, “Not that I’m against manual labor or I wouldn’t have applied, obviously, but um, do we at least get to use modern technology to clean?” I asked, having brief moments of dreadful visions of trying to scrub linens using icy well water and a wash tub.
Emily burst out laughing. “Oh, God yeah! No we’re not luddites. We’re not professional reenactors either. Well, most of us aren’t. My brother Nick - the curly haired boy in the monkey suit you saw at the front desk, is studying theater, does some Revolutionary war reenactments sometimes.”
“Oh that sounds neat,” I said. “I’d love to take photos at one of his reenactments some time.”
“He’s got a girlfriend, just so you know,” Emily teased. I felt my cheeks turn bright red.
“Oh no, I didn’t mean it like that!” I blurted out, causing Emily to giggle even more. “I um, don’t think about guys like that.”
Emily stopped giggling, her smile brightening. “Oh, really now?” she asked. “I’ll file that one away under ‘good to know,” she said playufully and then giggled again. “I’m just teasing. New coworker razzing. Claire did it to me, too so I’m just paying it forward. You’ll get to tease the next new hire which hopefully won’t be too long because we’re super desperate for the help.”
“Well for what it’s worth, I applied for full time. I’m not doing college right now,” I said, as we stepped onto the elevator with a pair of guests, and immediately we both went silent. Emily put on her best professional smile.
“Good morning, sir, missus,” she said in a surprisingly convincing light English accent.
“Morning,” the man said without glancing up from his phone. The slightly younger woman made eye contact with Emily and smiled back though. I had to bite down on my tongue to keep from swallowing it.
“Good morning. Busy day?” she asked.
“Oh nothing we can’t handle ma’am,” Emily said cheerfully. “I’m just taking our new girl here under my wing to show her how we do things proper at the Green Eyed Maid Inn.”
The woman, glancing at me, gave a soft giggle. “Oh my. A green eyed maid at the green eyed maid. I love it.” She hesitated, waiting for the other guest to step off the elevator at the second floor. The doors closed, and then she said, “I know you’re not supposed to drop character, but I would really love to get a selfie with you if it’s okay?”
“Oh yes, that’s not a problem,” Emily said, gently elbowing me in the ribs. “Right, Riley?” Crap. She used my name. Maybe she wouldn’t notice.
I felt my cheeks burning again, but nodded. “Yeah, it’s no problem at all ma’am,’ I said sheepishly.
The blonde haired woman spun around and backed up between us, holding up her phone and snapping a selfie. She then dug into her handbag, producing two crisp bills that she pressed into our hands. “This is for being so sweet. I can’t wait to post this,” she said brightly and stepped off the elevator.
Emily and I stared at each other for a moment, waiting until the doors closed again before we both burst out giggling.
“Was... Was that who I think it was?” Emily asked. I knew EXACTLY who that was, and the fact she didn’t recognize me was precisely what had me laughing. It was all I could do to manage a nod.
In their earliest days, Heedless Despair went out of their way to hide their “real” selves, to separate the women from the characters, and in a way they still did that, but it wasn’t as big a secret anymore.
Jessica, Kristen, Moira and Lucia had each done several magazine and podcast interviews over the years. It was a bit like what pro wrestlers called Kayfabe. Being in on the joke, as it were, as fans, didn’t break the mystique, and in a lot of ways, oddly enhanced it.
“I can’t believe she didn’t recognize me, even after you used my name,” I finally exhaled and laughed again. “But I’ve only met her a few times, when they were playing the same venues as Harvest. Maybe she didn’t remember me,” I added, hopefully.
“I wonder if Erika knows they’re back in town,” Emily giggled softly as she pushed the door open button, and we stepped out. Jessica was nowhere in sight. “I’m sure she probably does though. Anyway, let’s start with a basic bed linen change, and I’ll show you where we keep the good linens,” she teased.
“How did I do, by the way?” I asked. “I mean considering that was one celebrity I actually personally knew, I didn’t screw up too badly did I?”
Emily shook her head. “No, you did great. Honestly I was pretty shocked too. The fact we were literally just talking about them, not gonna lie, I was a little spooked,” she said, as we walked down the hall to fetch the cleaning supplies.
Because Claire was only a part time employee due to her college schedule, I actually only got to meet her late in the afternoon that first day. I would have mistaken her for a guest if not for the hair, which, while I had initially pictured as being a deep, dark purple, was actually a pretty, soft lilac color, albeit even shorter than my own.
Still, her face lit up just as much as Emily’s had when she saw me and realized I was new, gushing over how exciting it was to have someone else our ages working there. As I had already learned, the other four cleaning staff, including our staff manager, were all in their late 20s or older, although they were all a fairly friendly and very welcoming bunch, especially when Emily helpfully told them how hard I had been working.
I don’t know about all that, though. I just did what I was told as best I could, but apparently that was some kind of special talent. Maybe it’s just because us gen Z have a bit of a reputation? Claire and Emily weren’t like that, though. Sure, Emily was a smartass, and I would have been terrified of Claire just on principle if I hadn’t been directly introduced to her, and found out firsthand just how much of a sweetheart she really is. But they both worked their butts off just as much as I tried to do.
I had a vintage motorcycle, a Kawasaki Ninja that I was getting restored, but that unfortunately meant public transit for now, so I was surprised when I clocked out my first shift, to find my younger sister Avery leaning against her Turquoise ‘09 Ford Focus, like she had been waiting for me.
“Hey,” she said. “I heard you got a new job. Congrats.”
“Hey, thanks,” I said as I approached. She, a little uncharacteristically, gave me a hug, and I knew instantly something was up. “What’s wrong?”
Avery shook her head slowly. “I don’t want to talk about it here. But can I give you a ride home? Maybe we can stop off at that park we used to play at when we were little.”
“Sure,” I said, not wanting to push her.
We drove in relative silence to the city park a few blocks from our house. It was late summer still, with the fall equinox another week away, and the sun was shining, kids playing, just a typical New England afternoon. We walked past our favorite swingset, and Avery stopped. She walked over and sat down on one of the swings. Without saying anything, I followed her and sat down on the next swing over.
She curled one arm around the chain, leaning her blonde head on her arm as she trailed her sneaker through the dirt briefly, the wind occasionally tugging at her uniform skirt. Avery was the first of our family to attend private school rather than one of the public or charter schools, just another reason to be proud of her, honestly.
“It’s about Megyn,” she said. I frowned. Megyn was Avery’s best friend in the world. I knew she would’ve come right out and told me if something had happened to her, so I could only guess that something happened between them.
“Did... Did you have a fight?” I asked.
She looked at me and cracked a smile. “I wish it was that easy.” She sighed. “No, not me. Her parents and her. Rye?” she said, looking up at me again. “Megyn and I are going steady.”
I brightened for a moment. “Hey, that’s great-” I said, and then it sank in what she had said about Megyn’s parents. “Oh, shit...”
“Yeah,” Avery said, looking back at the ground again. “You’re too young to know what love is. It’s just a phase. You’ve been friends for most of your life, of course you like her,” she said, shaking her head from side to side in a mocking tilt.
“Well,” I said, “Please excuse my American, but fuck them.” Avery giggled a little at that. “The best dates I’ve ever been on were with Christie. We didn’t work out, but we’re still best friends, and I learned a lot about dating. I wish I could only ever date my best friends - I mean, assuming we clicked the way Christie and I, or you and Megyn do.”
“Thanks,” Avery said. “I knew I could talk to you about this. But, I mean I really thought herparents would be cool with it. Now though, I’m not even sure I want to tell mom and dad. I don’t know what to do, and I’m so scared I won’t get to see Megyn again.”
“That’s not for them to decide,” I said bluntly. “If it comes down to it, you and Megyn can stay with Kate or aunt Rose. I don’t think it’s going to come to that though.” My phone chose that most inopportune time to vibrate. I ignored it.
“You really think so?” she asked, looking back up at me with tears in her eyes. I got up and stepped in front of her, holding my arms out for a hug. She collapsed into me from the swing in a smooth motion, burying her face in my shoulder.
“Yeah, I really do,” I said, and squeezed her close. “If you want I’ll talk to mom and dad for you, but I think you should at least talk to mom.”
“Auntie Rose is back in town,” Avery said. “Maybe with her over, nobody’ll make a scene,” she said, and laughed a little. “Thanks, Rye. Sorry for getting mascara on your shirt,” she said wryly.
I laughed. “Hey, it’ll wash out. I need to change anyways. My new coworkers invited me out to dinner tonight, and I have no idea what I can even wear.”
“Formal or casual?” Avery asked, perking up as we started to walk back to her car together.
“Um, casual I think. They told me to leave my p-” I caught myself, “My wallet at home, their treat.” I didn’t mention that only one of my coworkers was actually our age. I also didn’t want to turn them down as they seemed insistent on welcoming me to the GEM Inn family.
“Oh, then any old thing will do,” Avery said, a playful smile crossing her lips. “I’ve got a really cute pink skirt you can borrow.”
I burst out laughing despite myself, probably not the reaction she expected based on the goofy grin she shot back at me. “I’m glad you’re feeling better,” I said, trying to cover for myself, but I really was. “Hey, why don’t you invite Megyn and we can meet up with them? I’ll tell them you’re my ride home as an excuse to introduce you.”
I hadn’t really thought that one through prior to saying it. I just wanted to give my sister and her girlfriend a chance to be together in a normal social situation. Thoughts of stories about “what a hard worker your sister is” never crossed my mind.
“Wait, seriously?” Avery said. “Like, a double date?” she grinned.
I laughed. “Oh no. I’m going stag,” I shot back dryly. “Besides I wouldn’t want to cramp your style.” In the privacy of my own thoughts, I added, ‘Although I might need to borrow that skirt, after all if I want to keep up this appearance of being the new cleaning “girl”. I sighed to myself as I slid into the passenger seat and pulled out my phone.
My heart sank so fast I’d swear I felt it bounce off the seat and back up into my chest as I looked at my messages. “Oh, shit.”
It was a text from Emily with a link to Jessica’s - Scarlet of Heedless Despair’s - personal Instagram page, and the selfie she took with us. The caption read, ‘Meeting THE cutest green eyed maid at the Green Eyed Maid Inn!’ and it had garnered 75,000 likes.
“What?” Avery asked, looking instinctively at my phone before I could close the app. She stared at the image, and then slowly looked up at me. “Um... Hey Rye? Is there something you wanna talk about?”
The Green-Eyed Maid Inn
She snorted loudly. “There’s no such thing. That whole men are from Mars, Women are from Venus is just a tired boomer stereotype to sell books. Ask away,” she said.
“You look cute in black,” Avery said as she started the car. I grunted. “No seriously! You wouldn’t catch me dead in that frumpy costume, but you actually pull it off.”
I looked over at her. She was smiling - not grinning, but genuinely smiling. “It’s not what you think,” I said. She laughed, reaching a hand over to pat my arm.
“Hey Rye, I just came out to you not five minutes ago. I’m not going to troll you for looking - and please don’t take this the wrong way, really cute as a cleaning girl.”
“Thanks,” I sighed. “It’s really not something I planned. It just sort of happened. God I hope aunt Rose doesn’t see this,” I groaned. “You know how tight Heedless and Hearts are.”
Avery nodded, and even gave me a sympathetic smile. “Maybe finding out I’m gay will soften the blow,” she said. This time she did have a playful smile. She giggled. “Sorry. Bad joke.”
“Just a little,” I said, and she started to giggle again as we pulled into the driveway of our two story Victorian. It was an old house, with plenty of proverbial skeletons though thankfully no real ones, but we were gradually able to make repairs and restorations - we being the family as a whole. Between our grandparents, aunts and uncles, and Dad. Grandpa Rory was a professional carpenter and cabinet maker, and dad an electrician, so we had plenty of expertise to go around. I just helped with the heavy lifting as needed.
“What?” I asked, a little bit of laughter in my voice too just because it’s hard not to laugh when someone else is.
“I uh,” she said, “I just want to say sorry about the crack about the pink skirt earlier. I mean I meant it, but if I’d known you were dealing with... you know, anything, I would’ve kept it to myself.” She glanced at me, waiting for my reaction. I couldn’t help it, and laughed even more despite myself.
“Oh, that,” I said and shook my head. “The worst part is, I may end up having to take you up on that offer. It’s a long, dumb story, but the super short version is that I went to apply, and found out after I was already hired, that they were only hiring women for the cleaning staff role. But Erika says I could get a huge promotion in a few months once the tourist rush is over, so... So I just kinda went with it. I wasn’t expecting to actually see anybody outside work like this.”
Avery continued to surprise me, giving me another sympathetic smile. “Just be yourself. Clothes are just the set dressing. I mean, do you think I like looking like jail bait?” she said dryly, motioning to herself. “I’d wear jeans and leggings 24/7, but the school is so, so worth it.”
“You know,” I said as I put my hand on the car door handle, looking back at her, “You’re surprisingly deep.”
“Yeah, no shit Sherlock,” Avery shot back dryly. “I may be blonde, but I’m still a straight A student and tech nerd.” She winked as she stepped out, and I followed not far behind her.
We had no sooner stepped out of the car, when a familiar yellow Camaro rolled up the street and into the driveway behind us. Aunt Rose emerged wearing a sleeveless black v-neck and tight leather pants, her strawberry auburn hair in a ponytail, and the biggest briar eating grin on her face that Avery and I had ever seen.
“Yep,” Avery said. ‘She’s seen it.” She giggled.
“Don’t tempt fate,” I groaned as we waited on the front porch for her to catch up to us.
“Hello hello!” Rose said brightly, eyeing me for just a moment.
“Hey, Rose,” I said as she and Avery exchanged a quick hug.
“Hi Auntie,” Avery added and then opened the door to step inside.
“A little birdie told me you landed a new job,” Rose said, grinning even wider, as if that were even possible. “Congrats!”
“Thanks,” I said. “Did you see Jessica’s post?” I asked, deciding to just rip the band-aid off. Despite there being millions of Jessicas, there was only the one that we mutually knew.
“I did,” she said, her grin shifting to more of a sympathetic smile. “For what it’s worth I don’t think Jess recognized you.” I nodded.
“Small miracles. It’s such a stupid situation,” I said. “Am I just making a mountain out of a mole hill?”
“Hey, the job market’s rough as hell,” Rose said. She didn’t even have half of the story, but I could already tell she understood what was going on, and possibly what was at stake. “On the other hand, if you really need money that badly I’m sure I could talk to my bosses about hiring you on.”
I shook my head. “It’s not about the money,” I said, adding, “I mean, it’s not just about the money. I’m just not college material, and I’m okay with that, but... Well it’s like you said, the job market is hell right now. I don’t just want to sit home all day doing nothing, you know? I tried doing street photography, but nobody’s buying, and I made, like, $5 on Ko-fi.”
For context, the front door opened onto a large foyer with two arched doorways, one to the left that led to a small tea room, which we had converted into a sitting room for business guests or unwelcome strangers - where ironically coffee was usually the drink of choice, and to the right a hallway leading off to the dining room and den.
The stairs, a good 2 1/2 people wide, stretched to a half landing and then up to the second floor, and next to them another archway led back toward the kitchen, with another door under the stairs and half landing that went down to the basement/laundry room.
“But we’ve got a bigger situation than that right now,” I said, lowering my voice. “I promised Av I’d talk to mom and dad about her dating someone.”
“Uh oh,” Rose said. “You don’t think they’ll approve? She asked.
I shook my head. “I think they will. But Avery’s spooked after her girlfriend’s parents had a meltdown. Her and Megyn are going steady.”
Rose’s lips pursed into an ‘o’ shape for a moment, and then she nodded. “I can promise you without a shadow of doubt that your mom will understand and support you both. But I shouldn’t say anything else. It’s one of those things that it’s not my story to tell.” She winked. I stared for a moment then laughed.
“Okay now you’ve just got me curious. I need to go change, and then I’ll come down and talk to her. I’ll see if I can get Avery to come down too.”
“I’ll fire up the espresso machine,” Rose said jokingly as she disappeared toward the kitchen, while I headed upstairs.
Even though Kate had her own apartment off campus, Mom and Dad kept her bedroom vacant, in part as a guest bedroom, but in part because I think they wanted her to always know she could come home. She did come home pretty often, only going back to her apartment to sleep, so in some ways that hadn’t really changed.Fiona still lived with us, and of course there was Avery and me. At the moment they were out though, and Dad wouldn’t be back until the weekend on business.
After changing into my favorite gray pullover hoodie I stepped back into the hallway, where Avery had just stepped out, now dressed in a pair of relaxed fit, stone wash jeans that looked like they had been through more than one acid wash, followed by a few dozen hail storms. I laughed.
“You look comfy,” I said.
“Same,” Avery giggled.
“Hey,” I said, catching her attention, “I just talked to Rose. She said Mom’s got a story that you’re going to want to hear.”
“What about?” Avery asked, giving me a puzzled, half blank stare. I shrugged.
“Dunno. I told her about you and Megyn, and she said it’s not her story to tell, but that she 100% guaranteed Mom would understand.”
Avery rolled her eyes. “I hate it when she talks like that. Like, just say what you mean,” she said, but then cracked a smile. “Thanks Rye. I just texted Megyn. No reply yet.”
I put a reassuring arm around her, and she leaned into it. It’s funny. We were never really all that close before. We weren’t the stereotypical brother and sister, or sister and sister that hated each other kind of thing, we just tended to stay in our own lanes. I was the artsy photo geek who liked to hang out at the race track on weekends, she was the techno babble robotics nerd. But I couldn’t help empathizing with her right now, with what she was going through.
“I’m going to pay you back you know,” she said as we took the back steps at the other end of the hallway. They were another half landing set of stairs that led down to the kitchen directly. “Everything, you being so sweet. I honestly didn’t expect you to be this supportive. And I want to repay that.”
I stopped on the landing and turned to face her. “Av, you don’t owe me anything. We’re family. I know we’re like night and day, but you’re still my sister, and I still love you. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
“Don’t,” Avery said, frowning. “Don’t make me fucking cry again. I just fixed my makeup.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “Sorry,” I said, as we started downstairs again. She put an arm around my waist.
“Thanks though,” she said.
“Hey, can I ask you a stupid question, now that we’re being all open and stuff?” I asked, adding, “Maybe this is just one of those girl things I can’t understand as a boy.”
She snorted loudly. “There’s no such thing. That whole men are from Mars, Women are from Venus is just a tired boomer stereotype to sell books. Ask away,” she said.
“Well, don’t get me wrong. I love to dress comfortably, and you look like you’re very, very comfortable. But you also have these wild looks with your makeup. You always look stunning.”
She genuinely beamed at me. “Awww, thank you. Yeah, I guess that can seem pretty weird huh? I dress like a hobo, but do my makeup like a movie star,” she giggled. “It’s how I like to express myself. I like to remind people that, despite being willing to get my ass elbow deep in robotics grease or geeking out over code, that I am still a girl. Plus makeup is just fun. You should let me give you a makeover sometime.”
Mom and Aunt Rose were sitting at the informal breakfast bar sipping coffee and laughing when we stepped down into the room. They both got quiet.
“I hate it when people do that,” Avery said bluntly, but grinned at the adults. “Always makes me feel like they’re talking crap behind my back.”
“Oh no,” Rose laughed. “I was just getting your mom caught up on the latest industry gossip.”
“She did say you had something you wanted to talk about though,” Mom said, pausing to sip her coffee. Avery walked over to the fridge and grabbed a can of Dr. Pepper as I leaned on the other side of the breakfast bar across from them. She slid a can of Pepsi over to me before opening hers. I didn’t even have to ask. She just knew my preference.
“Yeah, um,” Avery sighed. “It’s about Megyn and me.”
Mom, to her credit, sat patiently and listened as the whole story unraveled, how they were sitting on the sofa one day talking, got on the subject of dating, and how they both had feelings for each other.
“I know we’re young, and we probably don’t know what love is, and...” she stopped, looking at Mom, who had a wry smile on her face. “What?”
Mom looked at Rose, who put up her hands. “No way, sis. I’m staying out of it.”
Mom laughed. “You’re no help!” she said, turning back to us. “Sorry, Av sweetheart. It’s just not something I ever thought I’d be talking about with my kids. I never wanted you guys to think that I married your father for anything but love. But before I met him, I never thought I’d love any guy.”
The room got quiet for a moment as the weight of what she had just said sank in for both of us. Avery spoke up first.
“So... Like, you’re bisexual?”
“Probably closer to pan, but yeah,” Mom said. “See, I’m not from Boston originally. I know everyone thinks I’m Boston Irish like your dad, but I actually followed your aunt Rose’s footsteps.”
We both looked at Rose, who gave a wry smile now. “Let’s just say, when you told me earlier you weren’t college material,” Rose said, eyeing me, “It struck close to home. I managed to attend Harvard for about two months before I realized it just was not for me.”
“There’s a really juicy story in there,” I said, “But we’ll pry it out of you some other time.”
“Thanks for the reprieve,” Rose laughed. “But, yeah. I was living and working in Boston at a local radio station, when I got a call from my baby sister that she was in town and needed a place to stay.”
“Tell us you didn’t hitch hike?” Avery asked.
“Almost as bad,” Mom said. “I got on a Grayhound bus with the clothes on my back, $300 in cash, and a can of bear mace.”
“Oh,” Avery said. “Well at least you had the bear mace. But like, why hide it? I mean it’s not like being attracted to women and men, or, you know, being attracted to people because they’re attractive people changes how you feel about Daddy.”Mom’s smile brightened.
“Yes, exactly!” she said. “I mean in part, I also wanted a family at some point, too, but I was willing to adopt if things hadn’t worked out with your dad the way they had, and I ended up dating someone who I couldn’t physically have kids with. What matters is what’s between your ears. To me, anyway.”
“Hard. Same,” Avery said as Megyn’s custom ringtone, a line of chorus from our favorite glam rock band “Midnight Dolls” started to play. We at least had that much in common. All three of us were super fans of the angry lesbian rock diva.
She quickly answered it, and the energy in the room turned on a dime. We were definitely not going to get to hear the rest of that story tonight, what Mom moving to Boston had to do with her being pansexual or whatever. We waited in silence.
“Are you okay? Where are you?” she stopped to listen. “Stay RIGHT there. I’m coming to get you okay? I love you.”
Mom had by now already bailed off her barstool and was grabbing her purse. “I’ll drive,” she said. “Just tell me where to go.”
“Thanks Mom,” Avery said, trying to put on a brave mask, but I could hear the quiver in her voice. Part of me wondered if I should go with her, but I stayed behind with aunt Rose. We stood in silence for a moment.
“Should we follow them?” I asked finally.
“Your mom’s got this one,” Rose said. “I’m not sure we’d be much help.”
My phone beeped with a text from Avery. “Megyn’s parents threw her out,” I said out loud, barely able to contain the bile I suddenly felt welling up from deep inside.
I felt Rose’s arm wrap around me and I leaned into her. I stared in silence at the message for a long moment before I finally pulled away. “I’m going to go make sure the guest bed is made up for Megyn.”
Rose nodded. “I’ll order us some pizza,” she said.
“Crap!” I said. “I completely forgot my coworkers wanted me to go out to dinner with them tonight. I can’t. Not tonight, not with all this going on.”
“Just tell them it’s a family emergency,” Rose said reassuringly. “They don’t have to know the details. I’m sure they’ll understand.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Thanks Aunt Rose.”
We used Signal for our work chat, but it was the easiest way to let them know I couldn’t make it. ‘Sorry can’t do dinner tonight. Huge family emergency has come up.’
Their replies were variations on not to worry about it, to asking if they could do anything, but I felt too numb to answer right now, just dropping my phone in my pocket. I headed down to the basement where we kept the washer and dryer and spare bed linens and things, and just grabbed up an armful of whatever I could find.
The guest bed would get a new set of sheets and pillow cases whether it needed them or not because right now, I needed to take my mind off not projectile vomiting with rage. Besides, I needed the practice: a fact that lingered in the back of my mind despite myself and despite what was going on just now.
I met Megyn and Avery on the landing when they came in. Without a word, I gave Megyn the biggest hug I had ever given her. She leaned hard into me and put her arms around my back for a moment. I didn’t say anything because there was nothing to say. I let her go, and Avery walked with her upstairs.
I came back down to the kitchen, leaned against the counter, and I’m not ashamed to say, I cried.
“I know, Rye,” Mom said, causing me to jump. She slipped an arm around my shoulders, and I leaned into her.
“This is so messed up. Why are people like this?” I sighed.
“I wish I knew,” Mom said. “But, there’s a reason you’ve never met my mom, your grandma Eleanor.”
“Is that how... Is that why you ended up in Boston?I asked. Mom nodded. I squeezed her. “Then I’m glad I’ve never met her.”
“I kept hoping one day, she’d change her mind,” Mom said, passing me the box of tissues that she had already dug four or five out of for herself. “I wanted her to be part of your lives despite what happened, but she made her choice, and Dad stuck by it, the old bastard. I’ll talk to Megyn in a minute. I just need to compose myself first.”
“I’ll go wait for the pizza,” I said. “I made up the guest bed already, and the old sheets are in the wash.”
Mom gave me a surprised look, but cracked a small smile. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
“Just glad I can help,” I said, heading for the foyer while she started upstairs, and taking a moment to compose myself so I didn’t look like a complete wreck in front of the pizza delivery person..
The Green-Eyed Maid Inn
“Thanks,” I said. “I didn’t mean to look so...”
“Angry?” Erika supplied. I blushed. “It’s okay. I was just worried about you. Claire told me you had a family emergency the other night. Is everything okay?”
I didn’t mean to let the floodgates open the way I did, but before I could stop myself, the whole story had just kind of tumbled out - at least so far as Megyn and Avery were concerned. I wasn’t ready yet to admit that I hadn’t meant to apply to be, for lack of a better word, a maid.
Work the next couple of days definitely felt a lot more, well, like work, than that first one. I stayed quiet, went where I was needed, and tried to be polite if I saw a guest, but all things considered, I was still livid. Maybe I shouldn’t have let it get to me as much as I did, but Megyn really was like another sister. Even if Avery and I didn’t always see eye to eye, Megyn was always upbeat and open. The thought of her own parents reacting the way they did was unforgivable.
“Excuse me, Miss?” I heard a young woman say, jarring me from my thoughts. I was midway through carrying a load of sheets from a bed that I had just stripped clean for inspection, halfway down the hall. I stopped and spun around to see if she was talking to me.
“I am so sorry. I was completely in another world,” I said sheepishly. “How can I be of service?”
“Hey, sorry to be a bother,” she said in a distinctly British accent, though to my brain, English, Australian, it all jumbled together. I only knew the difference between a Galway and Belfast accent due to some of Dad’s family being first gen Irish American, and quite a few who still lived in the old country.
“No ma’am, not at all. How can I help?”” I asked again, and then looked down at the linens. I gave her a sheepish smile. “Oh, these! No I can drop these off at the linen closet shortly.” I tried, even though we weren’t professional reenactors, to avoid too much modern slang at least. Expressions like ‘real fast’ just didn’t fit the whole GEM experience.
“Thank you,” she said with a small giggle. “Actually it’s nothing big, just... I was wondering if I could get a selfie when you’ve got a minute?”
“Oh sure!” I said, and admittedly I brightened a little. This was probably the one highlight of the last couple of days. Ever since Jessica’s instagram post, it was becoming a regular request, and I was too happy to oblige honestly. And, again being honest, she was adorable: so very polite, and so sweet, and I was smitten.
“Let me just drop these off, and I can be right with you,” I said. She practically bounced with excitement, walking with me as I hurried to the nearest supply closet. She waited outside, phone in hand.
“Thanks. I didn’t even know that was allowed until I saw Jessica Townsend’s instagram post and when I found out we had been booked in the same hotel I was. Completely. Buzzing. I promise not to take too much of your time,” she quickly added as I stepped back into the hallway.
“You’re fine,” I said as I shook my head. “I was actually about to take my break anyway. Anywhere in particular you wanted to take the photo?” I asked, catching myself from nearly saying ‘snap the pic’ instead.
“Oh! Well I really, really don’t want to be a bother,” she insisted. I shook my head again.
“I promise, it’s no trouble.” I thought about it for a moment and then grinned. “Actually I know the perfect spot. Have you visited the downstairs tea room yet?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. We just checked in about ten minutes ago. I saw you go into the other room and didn’t want to interrupt, so I waited out here,” she said, a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry. That sounds awful now I say it out loud.”
“Not at all,” I tried not to giggle. “I have to warn you that the tea room is very, very green. Ms. Van Laderman, that is the original Ms. Van Laderman, had a real passion for the color. There’s an urban legend that the arsenic in the wallpaper is actually what did her in,” I explained as we walked to the elevator together. “Oh, but it’s not the same wallpaper anymore,” I quickly added. She laughed.
“Gosh I hope not! I’ve seen that stuff in documentaries about old houses sometimes being toxic because of it. I always wondered if it was a real thing, or, like you said, just a weird urban legend. I’m Shannon by the way.”
“It’s nice to meet you Ms. Shannon,” I said, causing her to crack a small giggle. “I’m Riley.”
“You are so incredibly sweet,” Shannon said. “I guess I didn’t know what to expect. Interactions with Americans have been hit or miss for me in the past - no offense of course.”
“None taken,” I said. “I’m second gen Irish myself, which if you met some of my cousins you’d think isn’t much better,” I teased, getting a genuine laugh out of her as the elevator doors opened onto the lobby. This was, I soon learned, because her best friend was Irish too. “The tea room’s right this way. I think you’ll love the spot I have in mind. I hope so, anyway.”
“I’m sure I will,” Shannon bubbled, walking beside me into the tea room, which, as mentioned, was papered with a distinct, vibrant green wallpaper. Thankfully it was just a replica printed using modern ink. I thought it looked a bit tacky myself, but with the green lace doylies on each round table, it kind of worked.
On the far side of the room stood a massive brick fireplace, with a roaring fire already going. It was mostly for show with glass doors kept closed except in the bitter dead of winter when the room really did need a bit of extra heat. Shannon squeaked a little. “Oh that’s perfect! Thank you so, so much for taking the time to pose with me, Riley,” she said excitedly, giving me a hug before raising her phone for the picture.
I was then rather shocked when she pressed a $20 bill into my hand. I wasn’t doing this for the gratuity, and even tried to give it back to her, but she insisted. After we parted ways, I left the tea room and headed into the back office area where I could take my break and look at my phone.
“Hey,” Erika called in a warm tone as I walked past the wide open door to her office. I stopped and backed up, poking my head inside. “You’re looking better,” she said and motioned for me to come sit, so I cautiously approached and took a seat in front of her desk.
“Thanks,” I said. “I didn’t mean to look so...”
“Angry?” Erika supplied. I blushed. “It’s okay. I was just worried about you. Claire told me you had a family emergency the other night. Is everything okay?”
I didn’t mean to let the floodgates open the way I did, but before I could stop myself, the whole story had just kind of tumbled out - at least so far as Megyn and Avery were concerned. I wasn’t ready yet to admit that I hadn’t meant to apply to be, for lack of a better word, a maid.
“So,” she said, almost cautiously, “Is she okay? I mean, does she, your sister’s girlfriend, need a place to stay? My partner and I have an extra guest room. It’s not much, but it’s hers if she needs it.”
“I’ll tell her you said that,” I said, brightening considerably. “Thank you. And... thanks for listening.”
Erika smiled back at me. “We have to look out for each other in the LGBTQIA+ community. It definitely wouldn’t be the first time Natalie and I opened our door for someone in trouble. How are you liking the Inn so far?” she asked, before I could dwell too much on her comment.
It hadn’t occurred to me in the moment, but on later reflection I realized she wasn’t talking strictly about Megyn when she said that we had to look out for each other.
“It feels good not just sitting at home surfing Reddit all day. I think I even lost a couple of pounds,” I laughed, causing her to giggle too. “I just stripped the linens off the bed in 304 when a guest stopped me to ask for a selfie. I hope it’s alright that I took part of my break to show her the tea room.”
“Oh yes, by all means,” Erika said cheerfully. “Please don’t ever, ever feel guilty about engaging with our guests. That’s exactly the kind of attitude I want to see. Just one thing, though,” she said, grinning at me.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Your break doesn’t start until you’re able to actually catch your breath, so don’t count it against yourself. But before I let you go, do you care if I ask which guest it was? I’m just super curious.”
“She said her name was Shannon. I didn’t catch her last name. She sounded very British, at least to my American ears. About my height, brown eyes, the most gorgeous sandy blonde hair I’ve ever seen,” I added, trying not to sound too infatuated, but, I couldn’t help it. She was a doll, and I was crushing hard. But I knew I had to put those feelings aside.
“Ahh yeah, I know exactly who you mean,” Erika said. “Thank you, Riley,” she added, not so much an afterthought, but after a long enough pause that it was clear she wasn’t talking about me just answering her question either.
“For what?” I asked as I moved to stand.
“For being such a sweetheart. I wish I had a dozen more of you. At least I have another prospective cast member to interview this afternoon, so hopefully you won’t have to work quite as hard soon. I won’t lie,” she said as she stood to follow me out, “Part of me is very tempted to make you the face of the Inn. But we’ll see how it goes first. I don’t want to pressure you into burning out or anything.”
I gave her a nervous glance as we stood in the hallway, “What would I... I mean what would the face of the Inn have to do, exactly?”
“Oh nothing much more than what you’re already doing - interacting with guests, making them feel welcome and at home,” Erika said. “Just more like a hostess, if that makes sense.”
“Oh,” I shrugged. “I can already do that.”
Erika grinned, but before she could say anything, the loud clop of heels on hardwood approaching told us that her new prospect had arrived, and a bit early it seemed.
And for the second time in two days, my heart dropped right out of my chest as I realized I knew the owner of those footsteps.
“Riley?” Christie gasped, nearly dropping her phone as she stared at us in shock.
“Hey Christie,” I said, cheeks absolutely on fire. I knew if I didn’t take the initiative and salvage this situation fast, I was going to regret it. “I don’t know if you recognize her without the cheer outfit, but this is actually my BFF from high school, Christie Chambers. Christie, Erika Van Laderman.”
“Oh my Gosh. I had no idea you were working here Rye!” she said excitedly, and to my great relief, quickly closed the distance to give me the biggest hug she had ever given me.
“I was certainly surprised when I saw the name on Christie’s application,” Erika laughed. “I thought it had to be a coincidence, so I didn’t say anything to you,” she said to me, turning back to Christie. “Riley’s already told me a little bit about you , and now that I know you’re the same Christie, I think we can honestly dispense with most of the informal interview. I do have just a few questions about your degree at BCB if I may? Just curiosities,” she added cheerfully. “My partner and I are huge theater geeks.”
“Yes ma’am,” Christie said, almost as shocked to hear that as she was to find me of all people, here, and dressed like this.
Part of me wanted to bolt straight for the employee lounge and leap out the window since we were on the bottom floor, but I convinced myself otherwise and waited in case Erika needed me to show Christie around, since the back offices could be a little bit of a maze at first.
As they talked I did pick up bits of information about Christie’s life since we graduated. I really expected her to be on a full ride scholarship to Harvard or some other fancy school, but from the sound of it, she was looking to pick up a part time job to cover expenses that scholarships just couldn’t.
Amusingly I also learned that she was attending Boston Conservatory at Berklee as a theater major. She sang in the school choir, and competed in dance competitions as part of the cheer squad, but she had never seemed interested in acting or theater.
Before long I was joined by Emily, wearing her long red hair pinned under her cap. She leaned over to me and whispered, “Why are we eavesdropping?”
I honestly just could not resist answering with one of my favorite lines from the Lord of the Rings movie adaptation, “I haven’t been dropping no eaves,” I whispered back. We both giggled quietly trying not to interrupt Erika and Christie. “That’s my best friend from high school. I’m just waiting to see if I can help whoever gets put in charge of her training.”
“Ooh gotcha,” Emily said quietly. “Well, mind if I wait with you? Kendra’s on the war path and I kind of want to stay out of her way if you know what I mean.” Kendra was one of the senior staff and the closest thing to a manager we had, although I wasn’t actually certain yet at that point, if that was an official title or not.
I frowned, and nodded toward the nearby hallway for her to follow me. We stepped away and around the corner. “What’s up with Kendra?” I asked. “Why is she upset?”
Emily shrugged her shoulders a little. “She didn’t say. She just yelled at me to make sure the third floor suite was ready and stormed off.”
“Crap,” I said under my breath. “That’s 304 isn’t it?” I asked. She nodded. “Okay, do me a big, big favor and stay here, take care of Christie?”
“Wait, where are you going?” Emily asked.
“To save you from getting chewed out because I screwed up,” I answered, sprinting down the hallway and for the back stairs. Hardly anyone ever used them according to Claire, so I knew I could reliably get back to the third floor without running into Kendra.
Thankfully the third floor was completely clear, no guests, and no Kendra, so I hurried as fast as I comfortably could without making too much noise, for the supply closet for the fresh linens, picking up a UV flashlight from beside the door as I did so.
It wasn’t part of my training yet, but I had seen Emily do it, and I was trying to save her getting yelled at again. Plus, keeping busy meant I didn’t have to think about just what in the holy hell I was going to say when I saw Christie again.
As I was sweeping the room with the UV light, I heard the door open behind me. “Emily,” I heard Kendra say softly. “Sweetie, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to take my frustrations out on you. Can you forgive me?” she asked. I turned around, and she blinked at me. “Oh. You’re not Emily. Sorry hon. It’s that red hair,” she said and laughed sheepishly.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “It was my fault the suite was a mess. I was tending to a guest and got distracted.”
Kendra, an older woman in her 30s I’d guess, with tired eyes and barely pinned back black hair, gave me another shake of her head. “It’s not your fault or hers. “My sister-in-law’s being a proper bitch and I’m just,” she stopped and sighed. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t air my dirty laundry at work.”
“I know it’s none of my business,” I said, “But if you want to talk about it, I still need to take my break so I’ve got the time to listen. I kind of legged it up the back stairs to get up here,” I added with a wry smile. She gave me a wide eyed stare for a moment and then laughed.
“Jesus Christ girl. You actually ran up those stairs? Don’t you ever do that again!” she said, shaking her head. “I’d never forgive myself if you fell down that death trap trying to please me. Goodness. Okay, you’ve earned the rest of the afternoon off just for that.”
I opened my mouth to argue, and she raised a finger. “No buts, young lady. I mean it. You’re taking the afternoon off with full pay. Say, ‘Yes Miss Kendra’,” she added playfully, almost sing-song.
“Yes Miss Kendra,” I laughed. “Oh before I forget, I think Erika just hired my friend Christie on part time. I asked Emily to stay with her and get her up to speed.”
“If she works half as hard as you dear,” Kendra said, “I’ll dance at her wedding,” she teased. “Now, go on! I’ll finish up here. You go and enjoy your afternoon.”
I was a little surprised when I came off the elevator into the lobby and found Shannon there, waiting to step on.
“Oh! Hi again Miss Riley!” she said brightly, and her face seemed to light up.
“Afternoon Ms. Shannon,” I said a little more cheerfully than I had intended, but I was feeling a lot better now after talking to Erika, getting everything off my chest, and the power jog up three flights of stairs left me a little buzzed with adrenaline too. “How are you liking the city so far?”
“My Gosh, it’s gorgeous in autumn,” she gushed. “I just,” she stopped and shook her head. “Sorry, nevermind.”
“What?” I asked.
“It’s nothing,” she said. “I just wish I could have booked a walking tour or something, you know? Just, not looking forward to spending the next five hours in my hotel room watching Netflix. Again. First world problems,” she added sheepishly.
My better judgement took a back seat entirely to my heart in that instant. I’m not even sure it was the whole ‘crushing on a cute girl’ thing either, so much as how much I completely resonated so hard with what she had said.
“Please forgive me if this sounds presumptuous, but,” I hesitated, wondering if I was about to break every rule I’d been given about interacting with guests. Her face seemed to shift from depressed to hopeful before I could even ask, so I pressed ahead. “I was just given the entire afternoon off, and I could show you a few local points of interest if you wanted?”
“Seriously?!” she squeaked. “You’d really do that?”
I nodded, slipping my phone out from its hiding spot in the underside of my apron. I flipped open the messaging app to show Shannon the group chat, where Kendra had announced that I was to take the day off, and that anyone who caught me working was to immediately march me down to costuming and make me change into my street clothes.
“I literally have nothing else to do but go home and stare at my phone until my family get home either,” I answered honestly. She gasped, covered her mouth, and laughed as she read the text.
“Oh my Gosh that’s adorable. You are adorable,” she said excitedly. “Okay, I’ll wait here while you go and get changed. Thank you, so so much. You really are just too much,” she giggled again and gave me another hug. I couldn’t help the blush that filled my cheeks as I crossed the lobby into the back office employees only area to change. That was happening a lot more lately.
In the back of my mind, I still wondered if I was making a huge mistake. She was a guest and a celebrity. This felt like I was crossing a line that I shouldn’t, but the way her face lit up when I asked if she wanted some company around the Cambridge area, I couldn’t back out now.
I just wished I could put a name and a face to the celebrity status. As it was, I was drawing complete blanks, although, that wouldn’t last for too much longer.
The Green-Eyed Maid Inn
Shannon glared at Sinead.
“I am so sorry,” I finally managed. “Now I feel bad talking how much I love your music and not even realizing I was talking to you this whole time.”
“This isn’t going to change anything is it?” Shannon asked cautiously. The whole vibe had turned on a dime, and she looked ready to bolt for the elevator.
I ended up borrowing an unopened tube - because germs - of pink lip gloss from Claire, but thankfully she had a spare to loan me. It was a total spur of the moment decision, and I guess it had to do with what Avery had told me the other night, you know? Just little small hints though, rather than turning my whole face into a canvas like she liked to.
Still, she was incredibly sweet about it and even helped me with the application since, being honest with her, I told her I didn’t normally wear makeup and never had bothered learning.
Christie for her part, never said a word either, although, as we entered the lobby together with Emily and Claire, me in my street clothes including a Harvest of Hearts concert tee that I had worn that day, and them in their uniform outfits, Christie nudged me gently.
“Hey, you’ve got my number now, dork. Call me sometime okay?”
I leaned over and gave her a quick side hug. “I will. I promise,” I said. “It was great running into you again.”
I was surprised to see that it wasn’t just Shannon waiting for me in the lobby either. She had another girl with her, about the same age as us I’d guess, although a little more fancy in clothes and even longer black hair, rocking a designer top and skirt. She was wearing sneakers though so I guessed, correctly it turned out, that she was going with us. That was kind of a relief for me. It felt less awkward going as a small group, given that neither of us had half a clue what the other was really like yet.
Another woman, older, in her early to mid 30s I’d guess, loomed large over the lobby without even trying. A giantess of a woman who easily would have dwarfed Erika, let alone me, she wore her extremely long black hair in a French braid that still left enough hair to reach the small of her back, and a black blazer with khaki slacks and black sneakers.
I only really noticed her because, when I approached the girls, I became the focus of her very undivided attention. She didn’t scowl, exactly, but she wasn’t smiling sunshine and rainbows to see me, either.
Hey, sorry that took so long. I had to borrow some lip gloss from a coworker so I don’t look completely terrible,” I said a little nervously. Shannon shook her head.
“You look great,” she said, quickly adding, “We figured you’d be at least like twenty minutes to change out of that heavy costume,” she trailed off, and then quickly motioned to her friend. “Oh hey, Riley this is my friend and band mate, Sinead. I hope you don’t mind I invited her along too? The others wanted to catch up on sleep since the plane ride was a bit rough.”
“Hey there. Nice meeting you,” Sinead said, and I knew instantly that she was from the northwest of Ireland. I smiled genuinely back at her.
“Dia dhuit,” literally ‘God be with you,’ I said in my best Galway Irish-Gaelic accent which admittedly is not easy to do in just two words, but I could tell by the way her jaw dropped that I’d passed the authenticity test. Grandma would be so proud.
“Dia is Muire duit! An bhfuil Gaeilge agat?” she asked excitedly - God and Mary are with you. And, literally translated, ‘Is Irish in you?’ but roughly meant ‘Do you speak Irish-Gaelic?’ And I did, at least, bits and pieces, which I admitted to.
“Bits and pieces,” I said with a smile. “My family is mostly stereotypical Boston Irish for better and worse, but I have a lot of extended family in Doolin, and a few that live further inland. One cousin who lives in Galway, and a couple spread out further north than that.”
Sinead burst out laughing. “Sure enough you’re one of us. You were right Shan. She is adorable.”
I blushed again. “Thanks. I think,” I said playfully, getting a giggle from the pair of them as we set out together. “I want to apologize upfront that this may not be the most interesting tour. The only reason I actually know anything about the Cambridge area is because my two older sisters were obsessed with the area growing up. I learned a lot just through osmosis.”
“Oh that’s fine,” Shannon said. “To tell the truth, I just kind of wanted to decompress anyway, and like I said not spending another damn day inside a damn hotel - even one as gorgeous as the Inn, on such a lovely day.”
“And she wanted to get to know you better,” Sinead chimed in, causing a sharp gasp from Shannon.
“Sin!” she yelped, her cheeks flushing.
“What?” Sinead giggled. “There’s no shame in it.”
Shannon sighed. “I am so sorry about my so-called friend’s blunt honesty, but she’s not wrong. It’s so bloody damned rare that I meet someone who doesn’t immediately want something from me, y’know? I had to know if it was all an act.”
“Only a little,” I admitted. “Like, we have strict rules about how we present ourselves working with guests, but, I also just really enjoy helping people. I know, I’m weird,” I trailed off for a moment and then shrugged.
“No you’re not,” Shannon said. “It’s sweet.”
“It’s rare,” Sinead added, “But not weird at all. You’re the gem of the GEM,” she teased.
Shannon groaned lightly at the wordplay, but laughed. “Nice.”
As we rounded the corner, I noticed in my peripheral vision that the giantess, and I mean that literally, not as an insult, as the woman in the black blazer had to be at least 6’6” - was picking up her pace. “Can I assume the black haired lady who looks like Paul Bunyan’s daughter is your security detail?” I asked.
They burst out laughing at that. Shannon nodded. “Yeah, that’s Nicole. Don’t let her scare you. She’s an absolute doll of a woman.”
“Little surprised you even noticed her,” Sinead laughed. “I mean yeah, she’s bloody tall, but she’s normally better about blending in than that.”
“I think it’s because she was staring daggers at me in the lobby, too,” I said. “Otherwise I probably wouldn’t have. But as long as she’s with you,” I shrugged a bit and even slowed down, giving Nicole a chance to catch back up to us as I gave the girls a brief bit of history on the area that I could remember from my sisters.
“And on your right,” I said in my best Barbie Tour Guide voice, “You’ll see a circus clown hailing a taxi because Portland isn’t the only weird city.”
“Raiméis,” Sinead said, roughly meaning nonsense or rubbish. She turned, looked, and then burst out cackling. “Oh my God you were serious.”
Shannon giggled loudly as she shook her head. “I guess even birthday clowns appreciate public transit here, hey?” she teased.
We continued around the area for a bit, making a complete circuit that landed us back outside the Inn, and I walked them back inside. Shannon surprised me with a hug.
“That was so, so much fun,” she said. “Can I assume you’re a Harvest fan?” she asked. “I mean, your top kinda gives it away, but,” she added playfully.
I laughed. “Oh, yeah. Heedless Despair, Harvest of Hearts; my sister and I are like the biggest Midnight Dolls fans to. Their music is sublime,” I said, and that made Sinead snort and start giggling. I glanced at her. “What?”
“Um, about that,” Sinead said. Shannon elbowed her hard. “Oh come on now. You can’t seriously tell me you don’t recognize Shannon McQueen?”
Shannon glared at Sinead.
“Oh, I am so sorry,” I finally managed. “Now I feel bad talking how much I love your music and not even realizing I was talking to you this whole time.”
“This isn’t going to change anything is it?” Shannon asked cautiously. The whole vibe had turned on a dime, and she looked ready to bolt for the elevator.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I said reassuringly. “I just meant... Okay,” I sighed, “So since you guys are in the industry I’ll just come right out and say it. My auntie Rose - Rose Moore, works for Harvest of Hearts. She’s their lead sound engineer, but jokingly likes to call herself just another roadie. She gets me and my sisters in to hang out with the band backstage at all their local concerts when they’re in town.”
“And?” Sinead prompted, although she was giving me a knowing grin, like she knew more than Shannon or myself did. She probably did. She reminded me a lot of my sister Avery, who just had this uncanny intuition sometimes.
“And because of that I’m not really the type of person who changes how I feel about someone just because they’re famous. But I was trying to apologize for gushing and sounding like an obsessed fan because I do get it. You get that crap all the time.”
“Atta girl,” Sinead giggled. “I knew you were one of us from the start.” She winked.
Shannon it seemed, had been actually, physically holding her breath until that moment. She exhaled, her smile returning. She looked around. “Does anyone have a pen? Marker? Something?”
“Aye, miss,” Nick spoke up from behind the counter, producing a Sharpie. I kind of wished he hadn’t because, without missing a beat, Shannon grabbed the marker, ripped the cap off, and before I could even offer her a piece of paper, she grabbed me by the hand and scrawled her phone number right onto my palm. With the damn permanent damn marker. Even Sinead looked genuinely surprised by that one.
Shannon hugged me again, and after we said our good evenings so they could head back to their rooms and get ready to head to the concert, Nicole rather than following them, strode up alongside me. She gave Nick a brief, but stern look, and he melted backwards like she had just delivered him an axe handle chop to the chest.
“Let’s talk in private,” she said more than asked.
“Sure,” I said. “We can use the employee area?” I asked, more than stated. There was absolutely no question about the power dynamic here. She was the security detail, and in a very literal sense, Shannon’s hired muscle. And Shannon had just scrawled her very personal, very private phone number on my hand - in damn permanent damn marker.
Nicole walked with me into the back office hallway. We stepped into the first room, and she pushed the door shut behind her. “I’m going to level with you, Riley, wasn’t it?” she asked. I nodded. “Riley, any day that I don’t have to clothesline someone into next Tuesday is always a good day for me.”
I cracked a small smile. “I think it’s been an amazing day so far.”
She gave me a kind of sidelong glance. I don’t think that was the response she had been expecting because after staring at me for a long moment, she cracked into a grin and started laughing pretty hard. “Wow. You really aren’t scared of me are you?” she asked. “I love it.”
“Do I need to be?” I asked. “I mean don’t get me wrong, I really do like Shannon and Sinead. They’re really fun to be around. But I don’t want to cause them any trouble-”
She held up her hand and shook her head. “As long as you keep being your honest sweet self, there’s not going to be a problem. The reason I wanted to talk in private was so I could apologize. I misjudged you, and that doesn’t happen often. But, I am sorry. You know,” she said, “Giving you the stink eye in the lobby earlier,” she translated, but I couldn’t help feeling like she was trying to say something more, without saying it outright. “It’s just, I see a lot of crazy. I guess I tend to see the worst in every situation.”
“Oh, that,” I said. “I just assumed you were doing your job, although, no offense, I did check with them that you were actually with them and not a crazy stalker.”
“And if I had been a crazy stalker?” Nicole prompted. I seemed to have piqued her curiosity, which surprised me. I shrugged.
“There’s a police station probably a minute’s walk from where I first noticed you following us. I would’ve taken them there.”
“Good girl,” Nicole beamed, putting her big hand on my shoulder for a moment and patting it twice before she turned to open the door again. Sinead was standing on the other side, fist raised as if she had just about knocked. I even saw her flinch as her hand struck air.
“Goddamit, Nicole,” Sinead sighed. “How do you do that?”
Nicole winked at me before answering, “Wrestler’s intuition,” she said. But I had heard it too. Sinead’s shoes had a distinctive squeak, especially on these floors. I was surprised Sinead hadn’t noticed it.
“Right,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, you’re not giving our girl the third degree are you?” she asked. “Because I want to get a selfie with her in costume before the week’s out and we have to move on to the next venue.”
Nicole laughed. “Nope, Just having a friendly chat,” she answered as she stepped out into the hallway, leaving the two of us.
“I’m sorry about that,” Sinead sighed. “I love her to death, but she really is a mother hen. Unfortunately she has to be.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I’m really not allowed to come back to work until my shift tomorrow, but since you’re staying here at the Inn I can pose with you any timethis week.”
Sinead laughed at that. “Thank you. I really do want a selfie, but that’s not actually why I came back down. I needed to know that you’re okay with,” she made a vague gesture with her hand toward my own. I looked down, Shannon’s number staring in bold, black, damn permanent damn marker back at me. I smiled.
“This?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Sinead said. “Look, Shannon’s not touched. I’ve known her awhile now. She’s just not in a good place right now. Please don’t judge her for being a little eccentric?”
“At first I thought it was just because she wanted to see more of the city. I know that had nothing to do with it now,” I said sheepishly.
“Not even a little. She has feelings for you, and I need to know that you’re okay with that.”
“We just met though,” I said. Sinead shrugged her shoulders.
“We’ve been on the road non stop since December. We’ve missed family birthdays, spent Christmas in a bloody airport freezing our asses off, probably gotten food poisoning more than once from questionable petrol station sushi... It gets to you. Add to it that Nicole is literally having to beat off boys left and right who think that if the Angry Lesbian rocker just meets the right guy she’ll totally swoon for them, or maybe they’ll get two girls, me and her.” She almost spat, but managed to stop herself.
I would’ve forgiven her for that one, though, even if I would have had to clean it up, Kendra’s warning be-damned. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I know it’s rough.”
“Yeah it is, but you make her smile, just being around her,” she said. “She’s been severely lacking in reasons to smile, and that means a lot. Just, If you’re not interested in her,don’t break her heart, okay? Don’t lead her on. Just tell her straight. But if you are interested, and I’m just being an overprotective bitch, you can tell me, too.” She grinned. “I won’t be offended.”
“I am interested,” I said. “I’m very interested actually. I love being around her, too. When she smiles my heart races. But I don’t know if she’s going to want to be with someone like me after she finds out the truth.”
“What?” Sinead asked. “You already have a girlfriend? Boyfriend?” I shook my head.
“No, I’m not seeing anyone,” I said.
“So what’s the trouble then?” she asked.
“I’m just dealing with... a lot right now too, trying to figure out who I am. The only thing I am sure of is that I want to be her friend, and yours if you’ll have me, and... Maybe if she really is looking for something more than just a friend, we could go out to dinner before you guys have to leave town”
“Is that a firm yes then?” Sinead asked. “Can I tell her you want to go out to dinner with her sometime this week?”
I bit my lip for a moment, but then I nodded. “I might not get this chance again. If it comes down to it, I’ll talk to her about the things I’m dealing with and let her decide if she wants to keep dating after that. If you want, you can tell her we can double date with my sister and her girlfriend. Or if you and the band want to just get together for a group hangout even, just you know, whatever she’s comfortable with is okay with me.”
Sinead grinned as she wrapped her arms around me and hugged me close. “You really are just too adorable,” she giggled. “I’ll tell her she’s got a date with an angel, and it’s her pick of venue and how much security she wants tagging along,” she teased.
“Thank you, Sinead. I’m sorry, I’m not making this easy on you.”
Sinead laughed. “You’re making this a damn sight easier than she is. I just want my best friend to be happy.”
As Sinead walked away I looked at my palm, and then pulled up my phone to add Shannon’s number to my contacts. I composed a text, deleted it, composed another one, deleted that too. I sighed and finally just wrote, ‘Hey, it’s Riley just wanted to make sure u have my number too :) Really excited to talk to u again soon.’
I hit send, and before I had even left the hotel lobby, I got a reply.
‘Was literally about to take a shower lol Riley thank you Sinead said you wanted to go out soon hows tonite?’
‘Dont you have a concert?’
‘Lol yes after that silly!’
‘O ok yeah that sounds great! Text or call me when youre ready and we can do whatever youre ok with.’ I wondered if the sparkling heart emoji was too much, but I added it anyway. The face with hearts for eyes in her response said it all. I had a date with Shannon freaking McQueen.
The Green-Eyed
Maid Inn
All three of my sisters were home when I got back to the house that eveningwhich surprised me a little, as usually Fiona and Kate stayed longer on campus with various projects that kept them busy. They didn’t even comment about me wearing lip gloss, which I unfortunately learned was color stay, meaning it wasn’t as permanent as the number scribbled on my hand, but it wasn’t just going to come off on its own easily, either. Thanks, Claire.
“Hey Rye,” my oldest sister Kate said first, as I went to the fridge for a leftover slice of pepperoni and sausage pizza. “You’re home early.”
“I should say the same,” I said. “How was school?”
“The usual boring lectures mostly,” she said as Megyn came into the room. I could hear the tank from the toilet filling - not that the bathroom was directly beside the kitchen, but that particular toilet, no matter how many plumbers we had look at it, sounded like a dying whale and was pretty hard to miss. Fortunately Megyn was used to it, being a long time family friend long before she and Avery started dating.
“Hey,” I said, glancing up. “Now that everybody’s here, I could use some advice.”
“What’s up?” Avery asked, as the conversations lulled, and Kate and Fiona looked over at me to hear what I had to ask.
“It’s kind of embarrassing,” I said. “You guys have experience with people being, you know, romantically interested in you: like aggressively interested, right?”
“Oh, you sweet summer child,” Fiona giggled softly.
“Do we ever,” Kate laughed. “Boy trouble?” she asked genuinely. I shook my head.
“Thankfully, no. But I did meet someone today. A guest at the Inn, and, well...” I trailed off for a moment and showed them my hand.
“Whoa,” Avery said.
“Now that’s true love,” Kate teased, causing me to blush.
“I like her too,” I said and sighed. “But, she’s got kind of a reputation.”
“What kind?” Fiona asked, moving closer.
I blushed even more fiercely. “The angry punk rock lesbian kind. It’s um, it’s Shannon McQueen.”
“Holy crap,” Megyn blurted out. “Are you serious?”
I couldn’t help laughing, but nodded as I explained how it all started and how despite my better judgement I ended up spending the entire afternoon with Shannon and Sinead, how despite the ‘Will kick boys in the balls for fun’ reputation she had - well deserved in at least one case, she had been just the sweetest, friendliest, most upbeat and fun person to be around, and how I ended up with her phone number temporarily tattooed on my palm.
“Permanent marker, too,” Avery burst out laughing. “Wow.”
“I’m supposed to meet up with her tonight after the concert,” I said. “We didn’t plan anything, just, she asked if I wanted to get dinner afterwards and I said yes. I don’t want to hurt her, but I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
“So, let’s back up a bit,” Fiona said. “When and why did people start treating you like a girl anyway? I know you took the job at the Inn, but, like, give us the whole timeline. Maybe we can help you figure things out?”
“That is exactly what I was hoping you’d say, Fi,” I said, and brightened a little, going back through how this all even got started, seeing the help wanted ad, being just so tired of feeling useless at home while everyone else was out having a life, how I felt kind of swept up in the whole ‘Green-Eyed Maiden at the Green-Eyed Maid Inn’ thing.
“So,” Kate said thoughtfully as she raised her mug, taking a sip of her coffee before continuing, “Basically you’re saying, you applied for a job that was hiring girls specifically, and now everyone’s treating you like a girl.”
“I didn’t realize they were only hiring women,” I said, just a little defensively.
“But you also didn’t try to get out of it either,” Fiona said, not unkindly, but observationally. I shook my head.
“No, I didn’t. I can claim all day that it’s a tough job market or that I didn’t have any other prospects, or that I’m just a pushover who can’t say no, but I know that’s not entirely true either. I’ve really enjoyed this week. My boss Erika’s even talking about promoting me to hostess, making me the literal face of the GEM.”
“So,” Fiona said, “I’m premed, not pre-psych, but I have to ask. How does that make you feel?”
“Scared at first. I thought it was going to be more work. But when she told me it just meant interacting with the guests more than I - than we, all of us, already do, it kind of sounded exciting.”
“Well,” Fiona said, “There’s your answer.”
“What?” I asked.
“You enjoy being the literal green-eyed maiden,” she said. “But more than that, think about what you just told us. You were worried the job might be more responsibility. You didn’t say ‘Oh ick I don’t want these people calling me a girl how do I get out of this help!’” She grinned.
“I mean,” Megyn spoke up, “Not to put too fine a point on it, but you’re looking kinda hot in that bubblegum gloss, Rye.”
“Thanks,” I giggled. “It’s something Avery said last night about reminding people she’s a girl through her makeup. I was feeling very unfeminine, and borrowed a tube from my coworker Claire.”
“Because you wanted to deceive Shannon?” Kate asked bluntly.
“Oh my God no,” I blurted out. “Kate, why would you even think that?”
“Well,” Avery said, “Either you’re trying to deceive her by acting like a girl even outside your duties at the GEM, or you wanted to look cute for your first not really a date but kind of with a girl you like.”
I gave her a quiet nod. “I was caught up in the moment, not really thinking, but you’re right, Av. I just wanted to look cute, but not just for her. For myself, too. Changing back to my street clothes, I felt completely, I don’t know, off kilter. I didn’t feel like me anymore. Am I really deceiving her?” I asked, and I admit, I had to fight back a sob at the thought.
“I don’t think you’re deceiving anyone but yourself,” Avery said as she smiled. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but you’ve honestly changed over the last week.”
“I have?” I asked. “How?”
“You’re more open, for one thing,” Megyn giggled. “Usually when you greet me it’s a ‘Hey Meg,’” she said in her best male grunt. “But yesterday you whole ass hugged me for the first time in years. Last night you cried with me and Avery over pizza and RomComs.”
“I feel more... I don’t know,” I sighed. “More open, just more everything. Being treated like a girl has changed how I move through life. That’s why I came to you guys tonight. So I can talk to Shannon after her concert, so I’ll know what to tell her about what I’m struggling with.”
Someone knocked on the frame of the kitchen archway. I looked up to see the Shannon McQueen I knew as the Midnight Dolls frontwoman, standing there. Her sandy blonde hair had been tortured and teased into a wild spray of waves that would make Whitesnake look tame by comparison, and she was wearing more fishnets than I’d seen outside our uncle Cam’s fishing boat, with a distressed hot pink tank top and black acid wash jeans that completed the look along with her platform black boots and signature pink glove.
“Hey,” she said. “I’m not intruding on anything am I? Because I can wait outside.”
“No, not at all,” I said as I walked over to her. “We were just talking about you actually - well, you, and me, and... life in general.”
“Hey what’s wrong? If I came on too strong, you know we don’t have to make this an actual date.”
“It’s not you,” I said. “I have to just be honest and upfront with you because I am scared to absolute death that I’m going to hurt you. I don’t know how much of a girl I really am, and if the tabloids found out you went on a date with me there’s no telling what they’d have to say.”
“Riley,” she said, looking me right in the eye as I felt her hand slip into mine, “Is that what this is about?” she asked, shaking her head. “Look, as long as you’re honest with me, you aren’t going to hurt me. I don’t give a flying weasel’s tits what the tabloids have to say.”
I heard Avery and Megyn giggling behind me at that.
“‘I’m attracted to you,” Shannon said. “My bandmates think I’m completely touched, and maybe I am, but I really don’t care what they think either. If you’re a guy, you’re the most gentle, kind, compassionate, caring guy that I’ve ever met. If you’re a girl, copy paste it,” she said, grinning. “I like you. Period.”
“I like you too,” I said. “I talked to Sinead this afternoon after you went up to your room, and she told me everything. I know life’s been rough for you, but when we got to talking, there was just this-”
“Connection,” she said. “Yeah. I felt it too. Why do you think I dropped so many hints that I wanted to meet up with you later?” she said, blushing softly now. “Although, I am sorry about your hand. That um, that was really dumb.”
I cracked a smile and laughed now, showing her the smudged marker. “I managed to smudge some of it off, so if someone sees it you won’t get weird phone calls and texts from total randos at least.”
She giggled softly, even covering her mouth politely, which with the juxtaposition of looking like that, and yet acting so polite, I admit my heart skipped a beat.
“Hey,” she said thoughtfully. “How would you like to help me really mess with the trash rags for a change?”
“Sure,” I said. “What did you have in mind?”
She held up her hand, and the sequins that spelled out her initials, ‘S. M.’ on the back of her fingerless glove sparkled in the light of the kitchen behind me. “Wear this for me tonight,at the concert?”
“But... You never take that off,” I said, stunned. “You’ve been wearing it since your first underground gig at Darcy’s.”
Shannon giggled. “Exactly. Everyone’s going to go crazy wondering if I lost it, or if it was stolen, and there in the front row is going to be a mystery ginger and if they want to come too, her sisters hanging out and cheering, before being escorted back stage between sets and at the end of the show.” She winked.
“Oh my God, you’re devious,” I laughed as she took off her glove and pulled it into place over my hand, covering up the damn permanent damn marker smudge nicely. It fit perfectly, too.
“Hey,” Avery spoke up, “I’ve got some glow in the dark pink nail polish that’s close to that shade.”
“Do we have time?” I asked Shannon, who gave me a huge grin.
“It’s not like they can start without me. Besides, Harvest of Hearts is doing their opening set. I’ve already warmed up the crowd singing a duet with Elizabeth to kick off the show. I snuck away to see if you wanted to come catch the rest.”
“You guys have fun,” Kate said. “I have to study.”
“I’ve got a date, myself,” Fiona giggled. “Just killing time until I have to get ready.”
“How did you even know where to find me?” I asked, as Megyn joined Avery heading upstairs to get ready and find the nail polish.
“Oh,” Shannon giggled again. “I kind of pulled a diva move and pulled some strings. I figured it would be more fun to surprise you.”
“I am very surprised,” I laughed, but hugged her. “But I’m really happy we had a chance to talk like this too.”
“Me too,” Shannon said, as Avery and Megyn returned, wearing matching Midnight Dolls concert tees. “Oh I love it,” Shannon giggled. “That’s from our Brats Gone Wild tour! I’ll get you guys new ones from this tour tonight,” she said, and as we walked to the front door, she pulled it open. A big white limo with tinted windows sat parked on the street in front of our house, and I could see the neighbors across the road, trying to peek out of the upstairs windows without being noticed.
“By the way, ladies,” she said, beaming as she led us down to the waiting car, the driver standing next to the invitingly open door, “Dinner is my treat tonight, wherever you want to take me. Just, please, no sushi?”
The Green-Eyed Maid Inn
I gulped. I know she said she wasn’t mad, but there were oh so many other emotions she could be feeling behind that poker face.
I caught a glimpse of both Emily and Claire standing near the back offices, and Nick was on duty at the front desk again, too. If these walls had ears, they’d probably wish they had hands instead, so they could shield themselves from the coming bloodbath.
Getting to see Harvest of Hearts backstage between sets again was a blast. We hadn’t gotten to hang out with the band since March due to their brief touring break while the members worked on projects outside their music, but you really couldn’t tell this was their first concert to kick off their “Spooktacular” tour, and it wasn’t the only venue where they’d be headlining with the Dolls, according to Nikki and Alyssa - alyssa being one of the Dolls, I should add.
Basically Harvest of Hearts, which consisted of Robin Morgan on keys, her wife Nikki on bass, Katelyn-Elizabeth Derrick on lead vocals, Allison Jones on guitar, and Jennifer Baker on drums, were a group of women in their 20s who somewhat largely followed in Heedless Despair’s footsteps, not a tribute or cover band by any means, but very much a second generation of what the legendary Ladies of goth rock had begun back in the 2000s.
From what I’d learned just hanging out with them in the past, they actually formed as a direct result of Heedless Despair being impish tricksters, too. The story goes that one Halloween Robin was backstage at their concert with her friends, having become tight with their bassist Moira through Nikki or something, Robin had written a song that they really liked, so they cajoled her into playing it live, at Heedless Despair’s own concert. Right then and there, Hearts of Harvest was born, complete with the whole vampire motif they rocked to this day.
Midnight Dolls on the other hand - Shannon McQueen, guitarist Sinead Keegan, Alyssa Walker on bass and occasionally keys, and drummer Tara James, while they shared some of their punk rock roots, were more about the music than the theatrical side. Although, knowing the origins of Hearts of Harvest, and how apparently close the Midnight Dolls had become with them, began to give me an idea what exactly I was getting into with Shannon, too.
I learned to expect the unexpected, especially after tonight. See, the Midnight Dolls loved to close out their shows by doing a cover song, but putting the Midnight Dolls twist on it, amping up the tempo, adding all kinds of overdrive. I once saw a YouTube video of them turn Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” into a punk anthem.
This one hit different though. Alyssa and Sinead left the stage and a moment later Alyssa returned, pushing a solid white digital piano on a stand that had the keyboard’s branding, “Roland” in bold black letters. That was Robin’s keyboard! Even more surprising though, the lady of the ivories herself emerged onto the stage alongside Allison.
She had some kind of keytar like none of us had ever seen before strapped to her back, all red, shaped almost like a weapon of war instead of a musical instrument, and all black keys, not that we could see the keys at first, as she and Allison were carrying a black padded stool.
Allison ran off stage as fast as her platform silver heels would let her, returning with an all black acoustic guitar, some kind of custom job because even the fretboard and fret wires were solid black, black tuning heads, etc. and her long, braided blonde hair now hanging down her back rather than over her shoulder as it had been all night.
Were... Were they joining the Dolls for the final song? They had done something like this before, but they never closed out a show together. Usually it was goofing off during intermissions, or one or two sets mid-show.
Finally Sinead emerged, carrying a cello case, and you could hear a pin drop as she opened up the case and set it up, taking her place on the padded seat. She looked over at Robin and Allison.
Robin, in her iconic wine red “vampire” dress alongside Allison in her silver costume, grinned as she swung the monstrous keytar around and into place, looking back at Tara for her cue.
“Two, three, four,” we heard Tara count softly, and Robin began to play an orchestra swell from her weapon of mass instrumental destruction, layering in different instrument patches over the top of it via the main piano keys, as Tara tapped in a soft, brushed snare in triplets, while Sinead bowed the cello masterfully.
They were playing Aerosmith’s “I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing” except it was as close to the production version as they probably could manage. They had to have been planning and practicing this for months. There was just no way this was spur-of-the-moment.
When Shannon began to sing, with Alyssa’s piano and Sinead’s cello perfectly undercutting her voice, I felt tears welling up. It was just so stunningly beautiful, completely overwhelming. I was so, so glad aunt Rose had told me this concert was being professionally filmed because I absolutely wanted copies: MP3, CD, heck I’d buy the vinyl and frame it if they pressed one at that point.
The crowd began to cheer excitedly, us among them. We had never heard Shannon singing anything like this before. Rather than the harsh vocals she was known for, her voice was very sweet, sultry, and soft, perfectly fitting the romantic subtexts of the song, at least for the first verse. As she hit the first chorus, she really started belting it, and, when she sang ‘Cause I’d miss you, baby,” she pointed her ungloved hand right down at me, a few feet from the stage in front of her, grinning.
And then it turned on a dime. The orchestra swells went dead silent, Allison’s jangling guitar muted, and Tara shouted “TWO, THREE, FOUR!”
Sinead threw the cello down into the case and leapt off the stool grabbing her electric guitar, as Allison picked up Alyssa’s bass. Alyssa shoved the piano off the stage with so much force that we actually heard it slam into something off in the wings, causing some laughter from those of us in the front row, as Alyssa took her bass from Allison’s waiting hands. Both she and Robin grinned, blew a kiss to the crowd while flashing the ‘Metal’ hand sign, and both ducked off stage as the more high octane punk cover we’d anticipated persisted.
The crowd went completely insane for it, but we did, too honestly.
As they neared the end of the third chorus heading for the outro I saw Nicole off to one side, smiling in our direction. She waved briefly, which we took as our cue that the song was almost over, and began wading through the crowd back toward her, where she quickly ushered us past security.
“I think someone grabbed my ass out there,” I laughed, too drunk on the euphoria of the moment to be upset.
“Probably,” Nicole said. “That unfortunately happens a lot. If security saw it, they’ll take care of it, but I can’t promise anything.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I’m just not used to being seen as,” I trailed off and shrugged, “You know, eye candy.”
Nicole laughed. “Serena did a hell of a job on you,” she said. Serena was Shannon’s personal makeup artist. When I lamented that I hadn’t really taken the time to really get ready since I had no idea I was even going to be here tonight, she pulled me aside and gave me a glam glow up for the ages. Shannon even invited me to be part of a photo op for Sweet Sixteen Magazine after the concert, too, but we were already being devious little trolls, so I actually didn’t mind.
“I can’t believe you do this every single night,” I said as Shannon and the others met back up with us just off-stage. I gave her a hug, and she practically collapsed into me, only lifting her head long enough to drink from her water bottle as I let my hand, wearing her glove, rest on her hip.
“I know right? My throat is so thrashed,” Shannon said. “It’s exhausting. The highs are so high, but then the lows are just as low sometimes.” She paused for another drink as Robin and Nikki came up to join us.
“Good news,” Robin said, trying her best not to laugh based on the huge grin, “The piano’s okay. I think you gave Rose a heart attack though,” she teased, laughing now.
“I am SO sorry about that,” Alyssa giggled despite herself. “I wasn’t actually trying to trash your keyboard I promise.”
Robin laughed.”Nah it’s cool,” she said warmly. “I really want to thank you guys for helping me even set all this up.”
“I was glad to do it,” Shannon said, grinning. “I feel a little guilty having Riley here for it though since that part was completely unplanned.”
“Hey,” Nikki said, “Don’t feel too bad. Remember what I told you about when I met Robin. Like, from the moment I laid eyes on her, all I could think was how much I wanted to make out with her.”
“I’m just glad you restrained yourself initially,” Robin teased her back. “I would’ve run like a rabbit.”
“You did, as I recall,” Allison said playfully as she joined us.
“Okay,” Avery said, “But I have to ask, what the Hell was that keytar you were playing? It looked like you had something custom-built for you or something?”
Robin grinned. “Nope. It’s a prototype Roland’s working on. Sometimes being a Roland artist has its perks,” she giggled, but paused when Shannon swore, looking over at us concerned.
‘Shit!” Shannon had said, looking over my shoulder. It wasn’t the softened ‘shite’ or even a harsh ‘damn’. It was genuine, raw shock and anger.
I turned around to see an older guy with a camera. He didn’t strike me as particularly sleezy or anything, but had the camera up and was snapping away, getting at least a dozen photos of me and Shannon embracing.
“Nicole!” she shouted, probably so that he would hear her, too.
“On it,” Nicole said, stepping between us so that her frame would block any further intrusion from the shutterbug as we made our escape into a side corridor.
“This way,” I gestured as we came to another four way. “It loops back around, but we can get to your dressing room and bail if we need to,” I explained, suddenly very glad I’d spent a lot of time back here with the Hearts members, courtesy of my aunt Rose in the past.
“Perfect,” Shannon said and squeezed my hand tighter as she followed, letting me lead us through the area. It wasn’t very crowded, mostly just stage crew, security, and employees.
“Was that guy a stalker or something?” I asked.
“I wish it was that easy, then I could just get a restraining order, but he’s got a press pass, and corridors are technically public. His name’s Raymond Max. He’s a freelance tabloid journo. He has a talent for publishing unflattering celebrity photos is all. I swear to God if he makes you look bad I’m going to shove that camera where the bloody sun doesn’t bloody shine.”
“Oh,” I said. ‘He’s one of THOSE types. On behalf of photographers everywhere with even a shred of integrity, I’m sorry.”
“Wait, you’re a photographer?” Shannon asked as we entered her dressing room. The band had already gathered there, safely away from prying photography lenses.
“You know what we do to photographers right?” Tara said as she stood up, looking at me with her drumsticks clenched.
“Whoa, hey now!” I said, putting my hands up defensively. Tara burst out laughing. “I’m not that kind of photographer!”
“Relax Rye. I’m just razzing you girl,” she giggled, but walked over and hugged me anyway, while Shannon flopped onto one of the provided sofas.
“Sorry,” I laughed as I returned her hug. “I’m just on edge. You guys might be used to all this excitement but this is a whole new world for me. Even hanging out with Nikki and the others has never been half this interesting.”
“Sorry about that,” Shannon said as she looked over at me, and then leaned forward to take off her boots. It was only then that I realized Alyssa, Sinead, and Tara were in various states of undress as well, milling about, changing, Sinead was in the middle of plucking bobby pins out of her hair, which were holding it in two massive bulbous buns on either side of her head.
“It’s okay,” I said. “If you want I can wait outside-” and the door opened behind me, as Avery and Megyn slipped inside, followed by Nicole a moment later.
“You’re golden,” Alyssa said, flashing me a smile even as she unintentionally flashed her breasts at us. “Fuuuuck these fucking corsets why do I do this to myself,” she said, throwing the clothing hard against the wall as if it had insulted her mother, and pulling a sports bra over her head.
“Because you look ravishing in them,” Shannon said playfully as she began to undress. I politely glanced away as Shannon pulled off her top, leaving just her fishnet undershirt and a strapless bra visible.
“Ah, crap!” Shannon bellowed and quickly began getting dressed again. “I got so flustered with that stupid togger I forgot I have an actual photo op I hae to do for Sweet 16 before we can go.” She sighed.
Nicole spoke up. “I told Felicia you might not be feeling up to it. She asked if you wanted to do it tomorrow instead so I told her I’d ask.”
Shannon stood next to me with her tank top in hand. “I don’t suppose you’d feel up for doing this again tomorrow night would you?” she asked as she squeezed my hand. “Or I can do it solo mio. Max is going to do all he can to get us on every rag that will take his snaps as it is so it’s okay if you’re not interested.”
“If I’m going to be a famous rock star’s girlfriend,” I said, “I at least want a legit magazine to have one good photo of us together. Let’s do it. Whenever you’re ready though,” I added. She threw her arms around my neck and kissed me.
“You are the best,” she said. I blushed again, more deeply this time, and I felt my pulse raise, even as she went back to changing from Shannon McQueen to just plain Shannon.
Nicole nodded and stepped out again, only to have another woman, someone I hadn’t met yet, take her place. She was taller than me, but not as tall as Erika, let alone Nicole, and she had sandy blonde hair, a lot like Shannon’s.
“I gave Mr. Max an earful,” she said, in an accent not dissimilar from Shannon’s. “I doubt it’s going to do any good though. You’re a grown woman now, and I’m afraid I can’t play the teen idol card anymore,” she sighed, giving me the side eye.
“Oh!” Shannon said, “Just a sec Mum!”
Sinead, who was already changed and just cleaning off her makeup, walked over to us. “Since Shannon’s a little preoccupied, Victoria McQueen, Riley Sullivan. Riley, this is our tour manager, den mum, and, you know, Shannon’s actual mum.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Riley,” she said, turning on the charm as she offered me her hand.
“Likewise ma’am,” I said as I shook it nervously.
“When Nicole told me a local girl had stolen Shannon’s heart I thought she was joking.”
“Mother!” Shannon yelped. “PLEASE don’t embarrass me?” She pouted cutely as she pulled on a Harvest of Hearts tee from the same run as mine, just with the band in slightly different positions.
We both laughed. “It’s nice to know some things are universal. I only have one good story about my mom, and it’s not even an embarrassing one. Meanwhile she’s got, like, my entire life’s worth.”
“Oh, and I have so, so many too!” Victoria said, flashing an evil smile for just a moment. “I shall have to meet your mother for tea sometime so we can swap them.”
Shannon and I both groaned at that.
Before we left, Serena was kind enough to un-glam me and give me a natural makeover along with a few handy tips, since I’d asked her for them. I didn’t want to be a makeup artist like Serena or even my sister Avery, but I didn’t want to be a makeup Picasso, either.
As we were leaving the theater, I started to pull off the glove Shannon had given me. “Before I forget to give this back to you,” I said, but she wrapped both hands around mine, tugging it back into place.
“No, you keep it,” she said. “I mean you don’t have to wear it. But I really want you to have it.” She smiled at me. I leaned over and gave her a soft peck.
“Thank you,” I said, causing her to blush for a change.
We - that is Avery, Megyn and I, decided to take Shannon out for burgers for our first date, but not the usual fast trash. Sinead had already told me, and Shannon all but confirmed it, that they were recovering from food poisoning, so instead we took her to a little diner off the beatemn path, and then back to our house for a movie while we continued to get to know each other.
Shannon had all kinds of stories from being on tour, and some of them were truly and legitimately horrifying, but most of them were interesting or funny. Poor Nicole fell asleep in my dad’s arm chair, as the four of us sat up until at least 2 a.m. talking and watching movies - and yes, ‘Armageddon’ was absolutely one of them.
We had dozed off at some point after that, and I jolted awake to my phone buzzing with new messages. Shannon was sleeping soundly, snuggled close to me on the sofa, and at some point in the night someone had draped a blanket over us.
I carefully picked up my phone to check the time. It was half past 9. I didn’t need to be at work until 10, but this was going to cut it close if I didn’t start getting ready to go soon.
“Mmm,” Shannon said. She slowly opened her eyes to look at me. “Oh, God, what time is it?” she asked.
9:31,” Nicole answered, making us both jump. For a big lady, she could sneak like a cat. She was holding a steaming mug of coffee, watching us from the doorway with an amused grin. “I already checked in with Victoria and let her know I’m with you. I want to thank you for not running off while I was momentarily lapsed in my duties, though,” she said, uncharacteristically professionally, at least from what little I’d known of her so far.
“I would never,” Shannon said, and then laughed, “Okay, I would never on purpose.” She turned back to me. “I am so sorry. I swear I’m not normally this clingy,” she sighed as she sat up.
“It’s okay. You’re okay,” I said. “Last night was the most magical night of my life.”
“That was pretty hard to top,” Shannon said and nodded. “I have a rehearsal at 11 so I guess I should get back to the hotel and change, but I have to ask you something. I need you to be brutally honest with me, okay?” she asked. I nodded.
“Of course,” I said.
“Was that, was last night a one time thing?” she asked. I blinked back at her.
“What?”
“Tell me,” Shannon said. “Was last night a one time thing for you, or did you really mean it when you said you wanted to be my girlfriend?”
“Of course I meant it,” I said. “Shannon, I have never met anyone like you before. You’re intelligent, funny, just being around you makes me smile and my heart race. I would really like to see you again - if not this week then the next time you’re in town.”
She squealed, and threw her arms around my neck. We shared another soft, brief kiss, and then one more for good measure, before she lay her head on my shoulder. “You really are just too adorable, Riley Sullivan,” she cooed. “I want to see you again, too. I just had to know for sure that I didn’t scare you off, or that you weren’t just caught up in the moment, you know?” She lifted her head. “And before you say some smart assed thing like ‘I’m still here aren’t I?’ I’ll remind you that I’m a guest in your house.” She grinned.
I laughed at that.
“That line did cross my mind, but I kept it to myself for exactly that reason,” I said, and she giggled again as she stood, pulling me to my feet.
“Come on,” she said. “If I remember correctly, you have work today. I’ll walk you there.”
When we walked into the lobby, still holding hands from the trip, Erika was waiting for me. Shannon looked up at her. “Please don’t be mad at her,” she said, and then planted a quick peck on my cheek before she headed for the elevator with Nicole.
“I’m not mad,” Erika said. “I just want to hear the whole story from your perspective, and why at 5 o’clock last night Victoria McQueen was calling me begging for the address of ‘that sweet Riley girl you have on staff’,” she said. She wasn’t betraying whatever feelings she had about the situation, for better or for worse.
I gulped. I know she said she wasn’t mad, but there were oh so many other emotions she could be feeling behind that poker face.
I caught a glimpse of both Emily and Claire standing near the back offices, and Nick was on duty at the front desk again, too. If these walls had ears, they’d probably wish they had hands instead, so they could shield themselves from the coming bloodbath.
I told her the honest truth, all of it, how Shannon and I really had met innocently, how I only offered to give her a tour of the area because she seemed starved for a real human connection, but also how I felt the same way, that we just shared a genuine connection that I didn’t want to ignore in case I lost the chance forever to know if there was any ‘there’ there.
I did apologize though, for breaking her rules about getting too personal with guests, and I promised it wouldn’t happen again if I still had a job. That was probably not the best word choice on my part because both Emily and Claire stormed up to us at that.
“You can’t fire her,” Nick spoke up from behind the counter before either of them could say anything. “If you do, I’ll resign too.”
“Same,” Emily said.
“Me too,” Claire chimed in, despite being Erika’s niece - or maybe because of it. “She made a mistake, but she did it for a damn good reason.”
Erika looked at her gathered staff. “Before you all decide to revolt and quit in mass protest, I’m not going to fire Riley.” She turned back to me, and a big grin began to cross her lips. “I’m going to promote her.”
“What,” was all I could manage, staring up at her.
“Riley, sweetheart,” Erika said, “Yes, you made a mistake, but you didn’t just own up to it, you apologized, and you explained precisely why you did it. You take responsibility, and you take your duties seriously.”
I let out the breath I’d been holding as Emily and Claire both excitedly hugged me. “Congrats!” they practically said in unison.
“What’s more,” Erika continued, “I have a report from Kendra and Emily that you tried to cover for Emily yesterday, going above and beyond to help out, which is how you ended up with the afternoon free in the first place. I told you yesterday I was thinking about making you the face of the Green-Eyed Maid Inn, and you’ve just proven exactly why I should. It’s going to mean additional duties, but I believe you’re up for it.”
I stared blankly at her for several seconds before I threw caution to the wind and did the one thing no employee should ever do. I hugged my boss. She let out a stunned laugh as she hugged me back.
“Even if I was mad,” she said, “I wouldn’t let you go. I told you before, we have to look out for each other in the LGBTQIA+ community. The worst I would do to you is put you under direct supervision under Kendra or Lacey for a couple of months,” she teased.
“Thank you, Erika,” I said. “I was so not expecting a promotion, but thank you for not being mad either.”
Erika shook her head. “Victoria and I had an interesting little talk over exactly why she wanted your home address so badly. I heard the story from her, and presumably Shannon’s perspective. I just wanted to hear your side of the story before I decided if I needed to put you under supervision, or give you more freedom. Now, please hurry and get changed? Some college students completely trashed 102, and it’s an all hands cleanup. I don’t want your street clothes getting ruined, but at least your costumes are a business write-off. And, I’ll be helping, too.”
“Oh, jeez,” I said. “Is it that bad?”
Emily spoke up. “It’s so bad Kendra and Lacey both went out to get us some PPE to wear. And the idiots responsible are banned for life.”
I groaned, but nodded, and practically ran to change. I was still wearing yesterday’s street clothes, which now included one pink fingerless glove with the sequined initials “S. M.’ on the back. I placed it carefully with my things where I knew it would be safe and changed into my uniform, washing away my makeup which, thankfully, did not include color stay bubblegum pink lip gloss thanks to Serena the night before, so it all came off rather easily.
I was happy to see Sinead, Alyssa, and Tara waiting in the lobby with Shannon when I came back out, and waved them over. “We have an all hands on deck mess in 102 to deal with,” I said, “But until Kendra and Lacey get back with the PPE that we’ll need to tackle it, I believe I owe you a selfie, Miss Sinead,” I said in my best Green-Eyed Maiden tone of voice.
“Oh, why thank you, Miss Riley,” Sinead giggled softly. “Would it trouble your lovely fellow maids if I could make it a group photo with them too, since you’re all waiting for someone anyway.”
I grinned over at Claire and Emily who were standing by the counter talking to Nick. Christie was just coming into the lobby, but looked from me to Erika to Emily and Claire, and then raced over to join the latter. “I think I can arrange that.”
“For what it’s worth,” Alyssa said solemnly, “102 wasn’t us. We’re all on the 3rd floor.”
“Oh we know who it was,” I said, giving her a reassuring smile as we walked over to the counter. “They’ve been banned for life, but you lot might just be the new guests of honor. I just got a promotion to Hostess,” I said and winked, smiling wide as we posed for the photo op.
“Congratulations!” Shannon said excitedly as she took the photo using Sinead’s phone. “I am so proud of you.”
“Thank you,” I said, and gave her hand a discreet squeeze as she came closer to get in the next pic. “Things are definitely going to be a lot more interesting around here from now on.”
The Green-Eyed Maid Inn
“That’s what Avery keeps telling me, but,” she threw a hand out and gestured wildly at the air. “All evidence to the contrary. I’m homeless, half my family hates me for existing, they hate my gramma for not taking a side, they hate each other for not voting ‘the right way’. Maybe it’s not my fault but I am the match that started the forest fire.”
Dad took the whole thing incredibly well,, far better than I could have hoped. Literally just going about his day like nothing unusual was going on and then said in passing, “By the way Rye, Congrats on the Hostessin promotion.” I didn’t even know he knew I’d gotten promoted. “Your Grandpa Rory said to tell you we’re all proud of you, and Grandma June says you look adorable,” he’d added. And that was how I sort of came out to my entire family, apparently - entirely by accident.
I soon found out that my sister Fiona had a friend who was like me, too, and, not to say I had a solid idea of who it might be, I really wasn’t expecting it to be her best friend from high school, Marilyn Swanson either. Head cheerleader, actual prom queen and homecoming queen, Marilyn was the all american girl next door who just so happened to be drop dead gorgeous, and had even taken on professional modeling to absolutely no one’s surprise.
What did surprise me though, was that she even had the time to meet with me. Not only that, but after Fiona told her about me, she had called me up and we talked for probably four hours straight before she dropped everything to come and visit.
She claimed it was just because she wanted to see Boston again, but she showed up with an actual briefcase full of information for me, resources, therapists she ‘personally trusted’ to use her words. She had really gone all out, and it honestly blew me away.
When I asked her why she had done all this for me, she said simply “Because it’s what someone else did for me, and I wanted to pay it forward - especially for my best friend’s sister.” I didn’t realize just how soon I would get to pay it forward, myself, just, not in the same way exactly.
It had been about two weeks since Shannon and I had started dating. I just snuck up to see her on a quick trip toNewport with my dad because I had never been to Rhode Island, and did not feel comfortable traveling alone as a newly out of the closet transgirl. Luckily he not only had the time, but was actually excited that I had asked him. He had just finished a big contract job there a couple of weeks ago and lamented not getting to see much of the city proper, so we made a day of it before I met up with Shannon later that day.
We had just gotten back, and I was carrying my small backpack and suitcase from the cab to the house when I saw Megyn sitting on the front porch swing.
Now, it wasn’t like Avery and Megyn were joined at the hip or anything, but it still struck me as odd for some reason. I put my suitcase down by the door and walked over to sit beside her. Dad picked it up and brought it inside for me as I let a moment of silence pass before saying something.
“Penny for your thoughts?” I said. She blinked, like she hadn’t even heard me come up and sit down.
“Oh,” she said somberly. “Hi Rye.” She leaned into me and I put an arm around her. “Sorry. Just... Trying to figure things out.”
“Like what?” I asked. She shook her head.
“I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’ll just start crying again,” she sighed. “You guys have all been so incredible through all this, and poor Avery, she’s just been an absolute rock. But I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”
Despite her best efforts she started to cry anyway. I hugged her close letting her put her head on my shoulder and slowly rocked the big bench swing a little without saying a word.
“My whole fucking family is at each others’ throats now. My aunt Kendra and uncle Johnny don’t want anything to do with Mom now, understandably, but then Grandma Stacey is trying to play devil’s advocate and pissing everybody off in the process, my uncle Derrick is saying nasty shit about “the gays” on Facebook and it’s just...” she trailed off into quiet sobs. “I’ve torn my family apart.”
“Whoa,” I said, “Hey. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“That’s what Avery keeps telling me, but,” she threw a hand out and gestured wildly at the air. “All evidence to the contrary. I’m homeless, half my family hates me for fucking existing, they hate my gramma for not taking a side, they hate each other for not voting ‘the right way’. Maybe it’s not my fault but I am the match that started the forest fire.”
We sat in silence for awhile longer. Mom came outside to join us, sitting opposite me on Megyn’s other side. She wordlessly placed a cup of hot tea, chamomile by the smell, into Megyn’s unresisting hands.
“You know,” I said, “You are wrong about one thing.”
“What’s that?” Megyn asked, sniffled, and then took a sip of her tea.
“You’re not homeless. Whatever else is going on, whatever happens with your life, your family, or between you and Avery, you will always, always have a home here. Friends are the family you get to choose.”
“Really?” she asked and sniffed again, looking up at Mom for confirmation. She nodded, putting her arms around Megyn now.
Honey, of course you do. You’ve been as much a part of our lives as any of my other daughters. You’re a Sullivan in spirit if not in name, and you always will be.”
“Thank you,” Megyn said, trying to wipe at her eyes, but she might as well have tried to stop Niagara Falls. Sometimes you just have to go with the flow and let the tears drop.
“I’m not okay,” she said, “and I know that. I’m... I need...” she trailed off, and then silently reached into the pocket of her jeans. She took out a brand new razor blade, still in the blister pack, and handed it to Mom.
Mom hugged her even tighter. “There’s always another way, baby girl,” Mom said. “I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but I promise it will get better. We’ll get you whatever help you need.”
I was already on my phone, texting Dad. He was the only one I could think of in that moment, partly because of our recent trip, and I asked if he had the suicide prevention hotline for Megyn.
I really hurt for her. I’d been living this amazing, charmed life for the past two weeks, getting to hang out with celebrities, albeit while dressed like a Charles Dickens character half the time, going to concerts every weekend - since Midnight Dolls were trying to stay close to the area until their big Halloween concert in Salem next month. And Megyn had been slowly falling apart.
Whatever it took, whatever I had to do to help her, I didn’t care, I’d do it. Right now, that just meant making a connection with a counselor for her, but there was a little more that I could do, it turned out.
Maybe it was serendipity, maybe it was fate, or karma, or whatever, but after working with the suicide prevention people, Megyn agreed to see a therapist, and her new therapist was actually in the same building, same floor, and I cannot stress just how wild this coincidence was, the same time slot as my first therapy session with Dr. Logan.
She was coming to see Dr. Kalm, which, if that wasn’t just the best name for a therapist ever, I didn’t know what was.
“You okay?” I asked her as we got off the elevator and stepped into a hallway that felt more like a hotel than a clinician’s office. Soft stained oak paneling and a thin burgundy rug immediately put us both in mind of one of those ritzy hotels - nothing like the old Inn, but a modern upscale place, like a Hilton.
“Just nervous,” Megyn sighed. “God I wish Avery was here.”
“She almost skipped school,” I laughed. Megyn nodded.
“I know. I had to talk her out of it twice. She has a huge Calc II exam and she’s been looking forward to that lecture on ReactJS for a month. I couldn’t do that to her,” she said. I hugged her.
“It’s going to be okay. I’ll cancel my appointment if I have to so I can go with you.”
“What?” she looked at me. “Riley, no way. If you cancel with Dr. Logan I will personally dip your hand in warm water every night for the next six months while you sleep.”
We heard an older woman, probably in her mid-30s, burst out laughing at that. We looked up to see a smiling red haired lady watching us from the nearby hallway, leaning casually against the corner. She gave us a friendly wave.
“That sounds like a serious threat. You’d better do what she says,” the woman said, grinning.
“She’ll do it, too,” I laughed. “My sisterAvery says she played for keeps when they used to play truth or dare.”
The woman giggled. “Would one of you happen to be Riley Sullivan?” she asked. “Or Megyn Coldwell?”
“That’s us,” we said in unison. “I’m Riley, and this is Megyn,” I added.
“It’s great to meet you both,” she said. “I’m Stephanie Logan. My colleague Beth Anne Kalm, had a... bit of a minor emergency so she’s running late, and asked me if I could meet with you, as well, Megyn. I know you’re here for very, very different reasons so our one on ones will be private, but I understand the two of you are friends?” she asked.
We nodded. “Like sisters,” Megyn said, smiling at me briefly. “And... Well, Riley’s the one who found me, stopped me from...” she trailed off. I hugged her tight.
“Let’s step into my office and talk for a bit,” Stephanie said, giving Megyn a warm, soft smile. I tried to give her my best understanding smile back. I had already told Megyn I’d cancel if I had to, and I think Stephanie even heard me say as much, although that ended up not being necessary.
By the time it was time for our one on one portions, Dr. Kalm, Beth Anne, was back in the office and apologizing profusely for the trouble her car tire had caused. Apparently it had suffered ‘an explosive disassembly event’ on the interstate. Thankfully no one was hurt, but she single handedly had stopped two lanes of traffic for a good 10 minutes while a couple of good samaritans helped her get her car over to the shoulder.
“Quite an eventful start, huh?” Stephanie said as we sat back down in her office again, while Beth took Megyn to hers.
I hadn’t actually taken in the office until now, so focused on Megyn, or Stephanie, or the session in general, and I admit I was kind of relieved not to see a single stereotypical Sigmund Freud couch in sight. I thought the Harvest of Hearts poster on the wall was a bit much at first, until I realized - it had the band’s actual autographs on it.
She followed my gaze, grinning. “You’re a fan, too?” she asked.
I laughed. “Oh my Gosh yeah, my aunt Rose works with them so we get to hang out backstage when they’re in Boston or the surrounding area. I was just surprised you are - no offense.”
“None taken,” Stephanie giggled. “We’re actually from the same hometown, Alpine Springs,” she said. “It’s pretty much the polar opposite of Boston,” she laughed. “Everything’s all spread out, but they have the cutest little covered bridge leading into town. Ah, anyway, you’re not here to talk about me,” she teased.
We talked for what felt like both only a few minutes, but also several hours. In reality it had only really been about 45 minutes. Mostly I talked. Stephanie listened. I rambled about life at the Inn, Stephanie asked me about high school, if I ever consciously felt like I was really a girl, and that was the thing that confused me the most.
“It never occurred to me, until after it happened,” I’d said. “It’s like, this subtle little switch in my brain got flipped. It wasn’t a “Yes I’m the girliest girl who ever girled” kind of thing,” I said and paused while she fought back a giggle. “More like... Yeah, this feels right. Especially the first time I went out with Shannon and Sinead that afternoon. I wasn’t like, playing the role of a cleaning girl anymore. I was just being me, but I was still Riley Denise, you know?”
“It was sort of an ‘a ha’ moment, huh?” Stephanie asked. I nodded.
“Things moved pretty fast after that with Shannon. We started dating that night, the infamous pink glove photo,” I said, and she nodded in understanding. She’d definitely seen it, though whether naturally or as part of case research preparing to meet with me, I wasn’t sure.
I hated to admit it, but it was such a great photo of us too. We were turned slightly to the side and Shannon had her arms around me, exhausted, and you could see the water bottle in her hand so it almost looked like she was just catching her breath while talking to a really close friend, except for the fact that my gloved hand was resting on her hip.
The other photos were of us looking panicked, trying to get away, which only fueled the fiery speculation. There was also the Sweet Sixteen photo op that consisted more or less of Shannon and I standing together in front of a ‘Sweet Sixteen’ branded white cardboard thing. I was listed in the photo caption as ‘Mystery Ginger’ wich I admit, I got a kick out of when I found out.
“A lot of transgirls like to get on HRT before they ever think about socially transitioning,” Stephanie said, “But some do it the other way around, and, some never get on HRT. Is that something you’ve thought about?”
“A lot,” I said. “I’ve been trying to research it online in prep for meeting with you, and I’m super lucky my sister Fiona’s friend who’s also trans has been there to help me talk through some of it. For some girls it’s like, there’s no question, it’s what they want. I’m still not sure yet, but I also don’t want to shut the door on it either, you know?”
“I do,” Stephanie said. “Uncertainty is understandable. You would actually be surprised to find out how many people get on HRT and then, a couple of months in, as they realize their libido disappears and they can’t get an erection anymore, it might not actually be what they wanted after all.”
“Really? I think I’d rather that than the current alternative of wearing very, very baggy jeans,” I said, and finally managed to break her professional composure, if only for a moment, as she brought up her hand to giggle politely the way Shannon sometimes did.
“Would you like to do a 2 month trial and see how it goes? The effects up until that point are reversible. After that, at around 3 months, you’ll start to notice breast growth, and by six months things start to get even more permanent.”
“I didn’t know that was even an option,” I said. “Yeah. That would be incredible. There’s just one thing,” I said. She wrote something down and then showed it to me. It was just a big stick figure happy face. I laughed out loud.
“Sorry,” she said. “Everyone expects their therapist to always be writing things down, but sometimes I just do it for the look of the thing. What was your one thing?” she asked.
“Oh,” I said, still giggling. “Well I already mentioned I’m dating Shannon. We’re keeping it low key right now. We’ve done one photo op together for Sweet Sixteen Magazine, but as far as the internet is concerned, I’m ‘the mystery ginger’ or ‘Glammed up Willow Rosenberg’. But what if people, you know, do figure out who I am?”
“You’re worried about a very, very public transition,” Stephanie said more than asked, and I nodded firmly. “Then I’ll be right here by your side to help you through it. You could always wear shapewear in the interim,” she added. “Push up padded bras and butt lifting panties that add the illusion of being more there than there is. That way if you decide you want to keep going with transition, your body will naturally fill out into that shape. And if you decide not to, then you have the option of increasing or decreasing your feminine appearance physically whenever you want.”
“That almost feels deceptive,” I said, frowning. Stephanie nodded.
“Yeah, that’s totally understandable. But, think about it this way. Are your lips naturally that pink?” she asked. I shook my head. “It’s my favorite shade of lip gloss, my friend Claire introduced me to.”
“And my eyes aren’t this smokey,” Stephanie grinned. “I know it’s not a perfect analogy, but, it’s a little similar. People assigned female at birth enhance their appearance through all kinds of clothing, makeup, even the way they talk can change depending on their situation. I had to learn to lower my voice when dealing with male colleagues to be taken more seriously before I partnered with Dr. Kalm here.”
“Wow, really?”I asked. She nodded.
“It isn’t deception, I don’t think, so much as just augmenting , doing what you have to do to navigate social situations in a way that represents your truest self.”
“That makes a lot of sense,” I said. “Thank you so much Stephanie. I’m really excited to move forward with this now.”
“I’m so glad I could help,” Stephanie said, beaming.
I stepped out of her office with a letter and an appointment to have bloodwork done, but I had plenty of time to wait for Megyn, who was still talking with Elizabeth - understandably, honestly.
I sat down in the waiting area, snapped a picture of the letter, and sent it to the GEM’s work group chat. ‘I got a letter’
‘Hope it wasnt from ur dead wife mary ;)’ Kendra, of all people, responded. I nearly belted out laughing when I saw that. I adored all things horror, and of course that included the classics like Silent Hill 2. I just didn’t expect that from Kendra.
‘Omg u literally made me laugh out loud and im still in drs office lmao kendra! Na im getting hrt started this afternoon just waiting for megyn now shes meeting with her therapist still so ill be a tiny bit late to work.’
‘Congrats! Don’t worry about being late just take care of Megyn,’ Erika replied, and after a moment another message popped up, this time a private chat from her.
‘Hey do you need a lift? I know your bike is still dead.’
‘Lol yes riding public transit as a girl is way different even just little changes like wearing makeup and nail polish have totally changed how ppl treat me thank you,’ I actually typed out, rather than my usual shorthand. I wanted to emphasize how much I appreciated the offer, and gave her the address.
‘Hey np I need to pick Evie up from the airport anyway so you’ll finally get to meet her!’
I looked up as Megyn came into the waiting area, and stood up to give her a hug. She smiled a little.
“I’m okay,” she said. “Beth wants me to try Sertraline, and if that doesn’t work she’s got some other ADs I can try instead. We’re going to get through this,” she said. I nodded.
“Erika’s going to swing by and pick us up since she has to pick up her fiancé at the airport anyway.”
“Yay,” Megyn said, giving me a genuinely excited smile as we stepped onto the elevator. “I finally get to meet the infamous Matron,” she teased. “Maybe I’ll ask her for a part time job so I can make some extra spending money. Not that I need money exactly, between you guys and Avery, but it’d be nice to be able to do something nice for her.” As the doors opened, she sang softly, “Don’t it always seem to go, you never know what you got till it’s gone?”
I hugged her tight for a moment, but she put her head on my shoulder and smiled again. “I’m okay. I think it’s called gallows humor,” she said.
“You have an amazing voice, Meg,” I said as we walked outside to wait for Erika. She actually blushed.
“You’ve never heard me sing before?” she asked, and I shook my head, so she sang a few more bars. A couple of tourists who were walking down the street stopped to listen. “I want to be a singer songwriter like Joni Mitchell someday,” she said and shrugged.
“You should go for it,” I said. “Put what you’re experiencing, your anger, heartache, even the love of the family into your lyrics,” I said reassuringly. She smiled thoughtfully.
“You really think so?” she asked. “Beth-Ann does want me to try and find a hobby, something I can pour my heart into and distract me from what’s going on.”
“I think my Grandma’s old guitar is up in our attic. I’ll dig it out for you when we get home.”
“Rye, you’re the best,” Megyn said as Erika’s British racing green BMW pulled up. She honked once and waved at us. I couldn’t help laughing.
“Van Laderman women do love their green,” I said playfully, getting a giggle out of Megyn as we hopped in the back.
First of all, Riley, writing in the first person, is inherently limited. She even flat out states that she hasn’t been paying attention to what’s been happening as Megyn’s been falling apart behind the scenes. That’s why she’s so desperate in the therapist’s office to get Megyn whatever help she needs. She feels terribly, painfully guilty.
As some of you know, this isn’t the first time I’ve eexplored this topic. The first time was in the Becoming Robin main series, through the character Crystal, and what her death did to the people who knew her, Natalie and Rachel, and how it even affected Robin, who never met her.
This time, I wanted to explore what if someone was able to get there in time, to say the right thing, and to get them the help they needed. It’s catharsis for me because, again, if you know me, you know that I never got that chance with the friend that I lost. It’s been almost 27 years now, but I still miss her dearly and wish that I or anyone else could have done something, anything to ease the pain she was feeling.
So if this chapter felt like a sudden emotional turn, that was intentional. If you feel like the payoff that their therapy sessions being coincidentally timd feels forced, well, that’s because they were. Riley calls it karma or serendipity. I call it an author’s prerogative. :D
In any case, I just hope that it doesn’t detract too much from your enjoyment of the story as a reader - because I am, at the end of the day, an entertainer trying to tell an enjoyable story. I just hope you’ll forgive me a little self indulgence from time to time, too.
All my love,
- Zoë
PS: if Stephanie seems familiar, it’s because she appeared in Everything’s Sunny, and, she’s the daughter of Cheryl Logan, Robin’s endocrinologist. I loved the character too much to let her languish in a series that I am never going to touch again. She’s a lovable goofball, and one of my all time favorite supporting characters (as evidenced by her drawing a big smiley face on her notepad!)
The Green-Eyed Maid Inn
“No comment,” I said before setting my cup down again. “On the record, anyway.”
She cracked a smile. “Off the record?” she asked.
After another couple of weeks I had all but forgotten about the ‘mystery girl’ situation Shannon and I had set up at the first concert. We talked almost every night on the phone, and she told me what she and the band were up to, but it felt ‘normal’ to me, I guess because I was in on the ‘mystery’ as it were.
All her fans knew was that suddenly one night, she did one song with her signature monogrammed pink glove, and then in her next set it was gone, and backstage photos leaked by one Raymond Max revealed Shannon’s arms around a girl with a short red pixie cut, wearing her glove instead.
But for me, life went on as normal. Even my ‘new’ duties as Hostess only took up a very small portion of my time, probably because I still dressed like any other member of cleaning staff, although people sought me out a lot more for selfies, due in no small part to my fellow maids who would gleefully point me out to guests - better me than them, it seemed.
I didn’t mind, as I’ve said before. I reveled in the role, being able to give out little nuggets of information I’d learned about Cambridge history as it related to the Inn.
So, you can imagine my surprise when, as I was leaving work one mild autumn afternoon about a month later, a young woman in her late 20s approached me. She was carrying a really nice camera, I noted - because I’m a photography geek myself, and when someone walks up to you carrying camera gear that’s worth more than your motorcycle, you tend to notice.
“Hey there,” she said in a suspiciously friendly tone.
“Hey,” I said, pretending innocence. “Sweet glass.”
“What?” she said, completely caught off guard.
I grinned and nodded toward her camera. “1DX with a nifty 50 1.2 L,” I said. She blinked at me and then laughed. “I’ve got an older first gen 6D at home myself, but I’ve only shot on a 1.2 lens once for a school project. It was magical though, getting to crank the ISO down and open up the aperture all the way.”
“Well this is not how I expected this to go,” she said. “What’s funny? I normally shoot on a 5D Mark 2, but my roommate let me borrow the big dog so I could try out low light shooting this evening. I’m Valerie,” she said and offered her hand. “I’m a freelance contractor for Vogue. Are you Riley?”
I stopped midway through retracting my hand after shaking hers. “Yes?” I answered cautiously. She put up her hands and giggled.
“It’s okay, I’m not going to cause trouble. I just want to talk, if that’s alright?”
“Yeah, okay,” I said. “Come on inside. Can I get you some tea or coffee? We have espresso, cappuccino, even PSL,” I said, showing her to the tea room.
“Oh, can I try the GEM’s PSL?” she asked. “I’ve heard it’s the best in the city!”
I laughed. “Evan will be glad to hear you say that,” I said. Evan was our resident coffee expert, although he mainly focused on running a clean kitchen for the hotel guests. I had only interacted with him a handful of times, but he always came across as a very down to earth, humble guy, so I liked him a lot.
After getting our coffee - because there was no way, in costume or not, that I was going to make someone else carry it to our table after ordering, I sat down with Valerie.
“So, Valerie from Vogue,” I said, causing her to snicker snort behind her cup as she tried to sip her coffee. I giggled. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. What was it you wanted to talk about?” I had a very good idea already, but, I didn’t want to lead the conversation especially if it turned out I was wrong.
“Fans of the Midnight Dolls have been speculating for the last month over who the mysterious redhead was in that now infamous Raymond Max photo. Her publicist and bandmates are staying tight lipped,” she said. “I was wondering if you had any comment?”
“No comment,” I said before setting my cup down again. “On the record, anyway.”
She cracked a smile. “Off the record?” she asked.
“Off the record, you found me,” I said. “I don’t know how, but you’re the first person that’s figured out who I am - and, yes, we’re dating.”
“I’m a little surprised no one else has figured it out yet myself,” Valerie said honestly. “I actually realized I had seen you before, several times actually, but most prominently in Shannon and Sinead’s instagram posts.”
“It’s the uniforms,” I said. “Honestly sometimes even my manager Kendra gets me and Emily mixed up, if Emily has her red hair in a bun under her cap.”
Valerie laughed softly. “Touche,” she said. A comfortable silence fell over the both of us for a moment.
“So what happens now?” I asked. She had already broken down her camera and put it in her bag, and she didn’t even have her phone in reach. It was just the two of us and our coffee, and, I realized later, something of a mutual respect for each other as photo geeks, too. She looked down at her cup thoughtfully.
“Well,” she said, “That’s up to you. I told my editors I was going to look into a hunch I had about who the mystery girl was. I didn’t tell them I had a solid lead or anything. If you want I’ll just say I couldn’t find anything after all, and that’ll be the end of it.”
“I appreciate that,” I said. “I don’t want to be famous, especially if it’s just for dating someone who is. I really do have feelings for Shannon, though.” I thought for a moment, and then smiled at her. “Let me text her really fast and see what she thinks.”
I pulled out my phone and fired off a text. A moment later, she was calling me.
“Hey you!” she said brightly.
“Hey, I figured you’d be in rehearsals so I didn’t want to disturb you,” I said. “Would it be okay if I put you on speaker?”
“Oh yeah that’s fine,” she said, and I hit the speaker button, setting my phone down. “We’re taking 10 while the engineers chase down some wicked bad ground loop issue. They’ve checked the leads, the boards and the PA,, and now they’re discussing if they need to bring in a dedicated generator and run extension cords.”
“Oh gosh,” I laughed. “I’m in the tea room with a photographer from Vogue,” I said.
“Shit,” Shannon’s tone shifted. “It’s not Max again is it? Did someone rat you out? I’ll kill them if they did.”
I laughed again. “No, nobody said anything. She’s even willing to keep everything a secret if I tell her to. I wanted to ask your permission to do an interview with her though. I was thinking she could publish it under the terms that for now, I could remain anonymous, you know?”
“Oh that’s a grand idea,” Shannon said. “But, babe, you don’t have to ask my permission for that, you know that!” She giggled. “That’s so sweet that you thought of me though. But really, I’m just worried about you, especially this weekend.”
“Wait, what’s this weekend?” I asked, starting to panic that I might have forgotten something. Shannon giggled.
“We got invited to a movie premiere because some of our music is being used in the soundtrack. I thought I told you about it?” she asked.
“Oh you did,” I said. “I just wasn’t sure what that had to do with me and talking to Valerie here.”
“Well,” Shannon said, “I’ve been thinking about it, and I was wondering if... maybe you’d consider coming up to NYC to walk the red carpet with me? You don’t have to of course, and I won’t lie, it’s a full fancy dress riding up your ass stumbling around in uncomfortable stiletto heels all night affair so you so do not have to say-”
“Yes,” I answered, even as she said it. She giggled again.
“Really?!”
“Yes,” I repeated and giggled. “Really. I’d love to!”
“Oh my gosh, thank you so much Riley,” she bubbled happily. “Can you make it up here earlier than Friday to try on evening gowns, or do I need to pull a diva and have Serena come to you?” she asked. Poor Valerie was just sitting there politely, clearly trying not to giggle as she unintentionally eavesdropped. I was the one who put Shannon on speaker after all.
“I’ll have to talk to Erika. I’ll text you in a minute after I find out more?”
“Sounds great,” Shannon said. “Either way this is going to be so much more fun with you here! I love you, Rye.”
I looked up at Valerie after we hung up. “I am so sorry about that. She’s always doing something like that to surprise me.”
Valerie shook her head slightly. “It’s totally fine. Did you decide what you want to do?” she asked.
“About Vogue?” I asked and then nodded. “Yeah. I know I was just talking about being anonymous, but I don’t think that’s going to be an option. I just have to accept that being in a relationship with Shannon means people are going to want to know more about me.”
“Oh, oh that’s so good,” Valerie said as she quickly dug a pen and a small notepad out of her camera bag. “Mind if I use that?”
“Of course,” I said. “Forget off the record or anonymous. I’m giving you the exclusive scoop on Riley Denise Sullivan.”
Riley Denise Sullivan wasn’t what was on my driver’s license, but there was a Riley D on there, and when I told Mom I was thinking about changing it to Denise, she wholeheartedly approved. It wasn’t something I was in a hurry to change yet, while I saw how I did on the hormonal cocktail sashaying through my veins, but I had been considering it more and more strongly. It was definitely something I needed to talk to Stephanie about at our next meeting, but, more and more I found myself examining my past through the lens of being transgender, and seeing things that just, well, lined up differently in retrospect.
I know I had told Stephanie I wasn’t the girliest girl who ever girled, but in a weird way, I sort of was, at least, when I let my guard down. My sister Avery calls it masking, and she’s really good at it. It’s something people with autism did - according to her, again, and, for the longest time I think I did too.
For example, back in high school when I was on yearbook staff I’d often be the only “guy” in a room, or even a dark room, full of girls. But for me, and for them, we were just hanging out, developing photos, occasionally gossiping about their boyfriends. When I stopped pretending to be a guy and just acted like me, I was a lot happier, and so were the people around me, it seemed.
I think it’s part of why Christie and I never worked out, either. We had so much fun together, but we always felt more like friends, or even sisters, than romantic partners. We only kissed once, and that was just for show because we had been dating for two months at that point and people were beginning to ask questions.
Of course, I never told Valerie any of THAT. I told her about me, my life, about how I was just coming to terms with being gay when Shannon walked into my life, but I also let slip how our first date consisted of us falling asleep on the couch watching Netflix rather than anything risqué.
Valerie scribbled everything down so fast, like a woman possessed. I even let her take several photos of me, including one that kind of echoed the selfie I’d taken with Shannon by the fireplace before, just, obviously without Shannon, and without me being in uniform.
We parted with the understanding that Vogue would get to post the news article on Thursday ahead of the red carpet event, and announce that I’d be attending the showing of “Life’s a Highway” with the band. I even hinted that I’d heard through the grapevine that one of the other band members might be showing up with some arm candy of her own, too, but didn’t give any details since I wasn’t 100% sure Alyssa’s new boyfriend could fly in in time. And of course everyone knew Sinead was dating Shawn Teegan, one of the movie’s minor stars.
I found Erika’s door wide open so I stood in the doorway and peeked inside. She was on a call, but grinned as she waved me inside. She held up one finger as if to say ‘Just one more second’
“I’m looking forward to it. I promise you’re going to absolutely love your stay. Yes, actually, she just walked into my office,” she said, grinning over at me. “I don’t think wild horses could keep her away, but I’ll let her know. Thank you Melissa.”
She put the phone down and then exhaled. “I love that woman to death, but my God, she can talk. That was Melissa Winters. You probably have no idea who she is,” she asked more than stated.
“My sister Fi’s friend Marylin is actually one of Winters Inc’s top models,” I giggled out. Erika looked surprised and laughed.
“Goodness, it really is a small world isn’t it? Then I don’t have to tell you how incredible it is that she’s personally asked us to host several of her talent next week.”
“That’s amazing,” I said, excited for Erika. But that just begged one question. “What... Why was she asking specifically about me?”
Erika giggled softly. “Oh, don’t panic sweetheart. She told me several of her girls were just really looking forward to meeting the new hostess. That’s all.”
“Oh, good,” I said, relaxing.
“Now, what can I do for you?” she asked.
“I hate to ask, because you were already giving me Friday off so I could get my bike, but Shannon just spur of the moment invited me to the red carpet premiere for “Life’s a Highway” up in NYC, and asked if I could get away a day early so we could shop evening gowns.”
Erika’s smile widened. “Really? Oh Riley, I’m so happy for you,” she said. “I’ll make you a deal. If you can pull a double shift Monday - as a hostess I mean, not spending 12 hours cleaning!” she laughed softly. “If you can do me that big favor I’ll give you the rest of this week off.”
I nearly swallowed my gum, although granted, I had been trying not to chew it since Valerie approached me earlier so it was kind of lingering around anyway, and I had just been too polite to spit it out somewhere. “Yes, of course!” I said brightly.
“To tell you the truth, I wanted to try and bribe you into taking the double shift Monday anyway. Not just the Winters Inc models, but several other guests reservations are coming filled, while this week we’ve just got walk-ins. Leafer season is upon us, ” she teased.
“I’ll brush up on my Cambridge history this weekend,” I giggled as I stood. “Thanks again Erika. You are an absolute angel.”
“See if you still feel that way Monday night,” she laughed.
‘Erika gave me the WHOLE WEEK OFF,’ I texted to Shannon.
‘Yay!!!’ she texted back. ‘LMK when u leave so Nicole can meet u at the train station k?’
‘Will do was thinking of taking the accelli. Thats prob 3-4 hours so prob 9pm?’
‘Tonight? Omg u dont have to rush’
‘I know but Ive never been to NYC. It’s a street snapper’s paradise.’
‘A what?’
I giggled. I’d have to explain it to her later because texting was just too complicated. I dropped my phone into my messenger bag for now and walked to the corner to wait for my bus.
Appropriately enough a couple of street buskers were set up close by, playing “Life’s a Highway”. The girl, rocking a boho look with a suede fringe jacket and extremely long brown hair, was singing while playing a big acoustic guitar, and the guy sitting next to her had a four string bass, but it was an acoustic too. I couldn’t help it and stopped to listen, fascinated.
When they finished the song I dropped a $10 bill in their tip jar.
“Thank you so much!” she said brightly.
“Just wish I’d brought my camera,” I said, after snapping a pic of them with my phone camera. It just wasn’t the same. “You going to see the movie?” I asked.
“Oh yeah,” the guy said giving me two thumbs up. “I heard Shawn Teegan is really funny.”
“Yeah,” the girl nodded, “We’re not usually movie theater types, but that’s one date night we’re making an exception day 1.”
My bus pulled up before we could talk any more, plus I didn’t want to distract them from making more money as a fresh group had just gotten off the bus, stopping to hear them play, so I quietly slipped away and hopped inside to head home.
Author's Note
So uh, I accidentally posted chapter 9 as chapter 8 header. If you're reading this, no worries obviously, but, I apologize for any confusion this may have caused earlier! It's been one of THOSE weeks with the ice storm, and, well, check my author's note at the end for more details on why I'm a little bit scattered right now haha.>
I spotted Nicole dressed in a white faux fur coat and leaning against a wall, hands buried in her pockets as she stared ahead, watching people come and go. At first I wasn’t sure if she had seen me, but as soon as I managed to weave my way through the press of people eager to board that rarest of actual on time trains, she pushed off from the wall to approach, giving me a big smile.
“Damn girl,” she said. “You clean up nice. I almost didn’t recognize you.”
I couldn’t help the blush that filled my cheeks as I approached her and giggled. “Thanks,” I said. “My birthday’s this weekend, but my sisters surprised me with an early present for the trip.” I spun around once letting her get a better look, as I was wearing a white cable knit sweater with a really long floral skirt, a new yellow leather jacket, and had even decided to get my ears pierced with my birthstone studs - real sapphire courtesy of Mom and Dad.
I still, however, was wearing my extremely comfortable old sneakers because I knew I’d be doing a ton of walking the next couple of days, and I was not about to sacrifice my poor feet in a pair of shoes I hadn’t broken in yet. Those were only going to come out for dinner tonight, where at least I could sit down if I ended up hating them.
“I love your coat, too. It really pops with that gorgeous black hair.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere, my dear,” Nicole laughed. It was a little wild to me, how fast she had accepted me as ‘one of the girls’ in relation to the band. She treated them, and me, like younger sisters most of the time. “The girls are hanging back at the hotel. They didn’t want to start sightseeing without you.”
I gently lifted my camera bag. “I’ve got a brand new prime lens I’m dying to try. I know the band is gun shy about cameras though.”
My wonderful and amazing friends at the Inn had pitched in to buy me a new camera lens for my birthday as well as what my sisters had done, but how they even knew that I didn’t have it, or even the right brand - because there are so many camera brands out there with different lens systems - I had absolutely no idea, and they weren’t talking.
But it was identical to Valerie’s, a nifty fifty, or 50mm 1.2 L, but I’ll admit it looked vastly less impressive on my camera than it did on Valerie’s the other day. While she had a flagship 1DX, I shot on an old 6D that had already enjoyed a previous life when I rescued it from the pawn shop and immediately had to replace the kit lens due to major scratches. Luckily the camera itself was in good shape, but I knew my girl wouldn’t last forever.
“Only cameras that belong to people they don’t know,” Nicole laughed as we walked out onto the street. “Hey, I do have a question for you though. Just something I’ve always wondered about photography in general.”
“What’s that?” I asked, as we stopped at a ‘Don’t Walk’ sign, waiting to cross.
“Well I’ve been a bodyguard for a lot of clients, musicians, models, and before that I was a professional wrestler, so I know all about model release forms. Do street toggers have to deal with all that paperwork every time they snap someone too?”
“Toggers?” I said and then blinked. “Oh! Photographers! Sorry, I heard Shannon use that word before, and I had absolutely no clue what it meant.” I giggled. “But yeah, no, usually the model release forms only come out if it’s a private venue or like, if I wanted to sell exclusive prints of the band as prints of the band rather than as like part of a news story or something. But I still like to ask permission if I can just as a courtesy.”
“Oh, interesting,” NIcole said and nodded. “Thanks Rye.”
“Hey, anytime,” I said. “I love geeking out over not just cameras and camera gear, but the whole art of photography and photojournalism. I just usually keep it to myself because others’ eyes start to glaze over after the first fifteen seconds.”
Nicole laughed out loud at that. “I totally get you. It’s the same for me and my hobbies. And no I’m not telling you,” she said playfully. “Even Shannon doesn’t know what I like to do for fun.”
“Oh come on, can I at least get a hint?” I teased her back.
“Sure,” she laughed again. “I’ll give you the same hint I gave the band. It isn’t something you’d expect based on what you, or they, already know about me.” She winked.
“That is one hell of a hint. You are devious.”
“Why thank you,” Nicole grinned.
Even coming from a relatively large city like Boston, visiting New York City was a whole new level of urban sprawl. Every time I thought that I’d surely be seeing a new borough soon, there would be another dozen streets unfolding before us. But I had an absolute blast with the girls, taking candid photos not just of them - although I did that a lot, but also just random strangers living their lives.
And, rather than the all day clothes shopping that I was dreading just a little bit, the only shops we actually stopped at were a couple of specialty shops, and a place called Raven’s Guitars, with an admittedly badass looking raven logo on the overhead sign.
Contrary to the name, they sold more than just guitars, but they definitely weren’t on the volume of some big box retailer like Guitar Center. The place had a real ‘musicians welcome’ vibe to it, and they had a lot of vintage and new gear, none of which I knew anything about whatsoever. But I found myself thoroughly enjoying listening to the girls gush over every piece of rare merchandise they’d find just hanging on a wall or sitting out on a stand.
Raven, a woman in her late 20s or early 30s with extremely long black hair, and wearing a spikey leather bracelet had come up beside me and Shannon, as the latter had been staring at an acoustic guitar on the wall. It had been signed by Joni Mitchell across the top near the bridge, probably in damn permanent damn marker considering it looked aged, but not smudged or faded too terribly.
“Can I try out the Joni Mitchell D-28?” Shannon asked. Up until that point, I didn’t even know she played guitar. “I didn’t want to knock something over reaching for it myself,” she said.
Raven grinned. “I appreciate the honesty,” she said. “You’d be surprised how many dudes come through here, try and impress me or whatever girl they’re with, and end up leaving with no guitar, and a $1500 plus repair bill. Here ya go,” she said, handing it to her.
Shannon found a stool nearby and sat down. As she started to play ‘Out with the New,’ which was one of the Dolls’ hit singles, I couldn’t help my curiosity.
“Was that really owned by Ms. Mitchell?”
“Nah,” Raven said, smiling as she listened to Shannon play. “It’s a 1965, and from what I know, Joni only ever played a 1956, at least for D-28s. I actually have one of her Ibanez GB-10’s in the back though. Supposedly she was strolling through Central Park one day and ran across the previous owner of that one busking, and stopped to hang out. They talked about music, sang a little, and before leaving, she signed it.”
“Wow,” I said and raised my camera to snap a photo of Shannon, completely lost in the music. . “This thing must be worth a fortune. That’s like, rock history right there.”
“You’d think so,” she said. “Unfortunately without a certificate of authenticity it’s just a really cool story, and a blemished guitar. The other problem is that these old D-28s are solid Brazilian rosewood bodies. Makes it a bitch and a half to carry one across some state lines due to some states regulating rosewood more heavily, nevermind sticky fingered customs agents, without the right permits, so most tourists look at it, hear the story, and then nope right out.”
Shannon giggled as she strummed a few chords of ‘Boulevard of Broken Dreams’ before responding. “I’ve already got the permits. Sinead’s axe has a Brazilian rosewood fretboard where she swapped the neck for her Frankenstrat a couple of years ago.” She looked up. “Do you do pleks? The frets feel a little uneven, but my Gosh I’m in love with the sustain.”
“Absolutely,” she said. “My cousin Maddie’s got you. I’m guessing you’re going to want a flight case too,” she added.
“Please?” Shannon giggled. “Thanks so much,” she said as she stood, handing the guitar back. “I’m actually buying it for a friend, but I want it to get to her safely, and, well, I don’t trust either FedEx or UPS to handle with care.”
“Oh, I completely understand,” Raven laughed. “We do a lot of postal special repair work.”
“What the plek is a plek?” I said jokingly as we joined Sinead and Alyssa who were exploring the vintage synth gear. Alyssa was admiring a keytar thoughtfully. Unlike the monstrous red and black prototype Robin had played at that first show last month, this one was more of what I pictured when I thought of a keytar, with mini keys and a very 80s aesthetic.
“Oh,” Shannon giggled, “It’s like a CNC machine plus a 3D scanner had an unholy love child, except it’s explicitly made for guitar and bass necks. It grinds down any uneven frets, carves the nut, planes the fretboard, that sort of thing. A good luthier can do it by hand, but the machine can do it in minutes where it’s an all day job by hand. Some people swear it won’t be as precise either, but,” she shrugged.
“Still takes a skilled technician to set up the machine and do the scan proper though,” Sinead said. “I got mine plecked by an amateur who thought he could just put in the profile and be done with it. Ended up costing me a good guitar neck, so I frankenstratted it. You bought the acoustic? I heard you playing,” she said, glancing at Shannon.
“Yeah,” Shannon grinned as she squeezed my hand. “Riley was just telling me the other day how Megyn is a huge Joni Mitchell fan so I thought I’d surprise her. You think she’ll like it?” she asked, looking at me.
“She’s going to faint,” I laughed, getting a giggle out of the others.
“Low key want to teach Rye to play bass so I can play one of these on stage,” Alyssa sighed, putting the oddly 80s instrument back on its stand.
“”I might be able to plunk out ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’ in a few months of trial and error,” I said, shaking my head. “That’s about as far as I got with the recorder in grade school, anyway.”
“Should try a tin whistle,” Sinead laughed. “They’re a lot more forgiving than those torture devices Americans call recorders. But hey, you ever want to learn to play, don’t even hesitate to ask, yeah?”
“Oh totally,” Alyssa chimed in. “I was just razzing you before, but before I joined the Dolls I taught piano lessons to make ends meet. I genuinely love teaching.”
“Thanks,” I said, “I may take you up on that someday. You guys’ energy for music is just so infectious.”
“Not gonna lie,” Shannon giggled, “So is your enthusiasm for photography. The way your face lights up just before you raise your camera is just so adorable.”
“Right?” Sinead giggled. “I wish my boyfriend had, like, any kind of interests or hobbies beyond acting. Even Jamie,” Jamie being Alyssa’s new boyfriend, “does these really cool scrap metal sculptures.”
As we talked, a woman with shoulder length blonde hair in tight ringlets approached. She was carrying Shannon’s new guitar in one hand, and a heavy duty case in the other. “Shannon?” she said, grinning. “Raven said you gals were in the shop. I didn’t believe her at first. Let me know what you think, and if I need to make any tweaks. I put the old strings back on for now since I didn’t know your brand preference either, but it’s all in the purchase price.”
“You’re not just saying that because we’re famous, are you?” Shannon teased as she held the guitar in her hands, feeling up and down the fretboard.
Maddie laughed. “Nah, everything over $800 gets a free plek setup if desired. But in the interest of full honesty I will admit I handle all professional bands’ requests rather than putting the pressure off on one of our hired techs. That way if something goes south I can only blame myself.”
“This is perfect,” Shannon said. “Thanks so much. I’m pretty string agnostic for acoustic. What are the ones that are on now? They really sing with the rosewood.”
“These I believe are Elixir Phosphor Bronze,” Maddie said. “I put Elixir strings on everything that sits on the wall for awhile because of the corrosion resistance. Want me to restring her with a fresh set?” she asked.
“Please,” Shannon said. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” Maddie said cheerfully as Shannon picked up the empty case, walking to the front counter to pay. Tara was already there chatting with Raven, a ‘Raven’s Guitars’ shopping bag at her side, and a huge grin on her face.
“Oh I am totally coming back here again when we’re not on tour,” Tara was saying. “This place is like my nirvana.” She paused and they both laughed. “Not the band obviously.” She turned to us. “You guuuuys I am so pumped. They had a Rogers swiv-o-matic double bass pedal that some mad lad fully restored to like new! My ludwig hinge is about to give up the ghost.”
“If you have anything you want us to keep an eye out for,” Raven said as she rang up Shannon’s guitar and case, “Just let us know. We’re always hitting estate sales and junk shops hoping to find a diamond in the rough.”
“There is something,” Alyssa said. “If you ever come across a first run Fender signature Flea bass in pink-” she began and Raven’s lips parted into a wide grin.
“Actually?” she said.
“No bloody way. You have one?! All I can find online are either second runs, or ones being gouged to hell and back because lol collectors dude. Like don’t get me wrong, they’re amazing, but they are not worth $8000.”
“Don’t get too excited yet though,” Raven said. “It’s missing the original pick guard, and someone replaced it with an oval shaped one in lime green, so it’s got like a reverse melon thing going.”
“Oh I HAVE to see this,” Alyssa said, following Raven. We could actually hear her shout “Oh my God it’s perfect!” from the back of the store as Maddie brought Shannon’s acoustic out to her.
“Sounds like I’ve got another plek to set up,” Maddie laughed softly.
I wore my new black suede Chelsea boots out to dinner that night, though thankfully it was nothing fancier than our last few dinner dates. Shawn had taken Sinead to some upscale restaurant, but Alyssa, her boyfriend Jamie, Tara, and Shannon and I opted to keep it low key and found a great little family owned deli over in the Bronx. Afterwards we met up with Sinead and Shawn to catch a shadowcast performance of The Rocky Horror Picture Show.
I had never been to one and had absolutely no clue what to expect, and wondered why we were given bags of confetti, water pistols, and other seemingly random props, but Sinead had the biggest excited smile.
“Don’t worry,” she’d said. “Shawn is a virgin too.”
Shawn leaned over to me and said, “Apparently that’s what they call us fans that have never been to a shadowcast.”
“Oh, I was wondering,” I giggled.
It’s definitely one of those ‘if you know’ you know’ situations, but we had an absolute blast. We even got up and danced several times along with the shadowcast actors, and by the time we got back to the hotel, we just kind of collapsed.
The next couple of days were a blur of excitement and activity, planning out what we were going to wear for the premiere, meeting with Serena to get ideas from her and the like.
I won’t lie, shopping for evening gowns, trying to match without clashing with each other or looking too similar, it gave me a whole new perspective on what poor Christie had gone through for our senior prom, and she had gone stag, like me. Even at that, I just showed up in an itchy tux, occasionally moved around like I knew how to dance, and, mostly took pictures.
Now? Now I was trying on sheaths, chemises, symmetric, asymmetric, sequins, silk, satin, suede - you get the idea. And you’d think with my short red hair, although I had been letting it grow, that I’d at least be safe from the wrath of the stylists, but then I was introduced to this thing called hair extensions!
I admit the end result left me feeling like an actual princess though, and walking the red carpet on Shannon’s arm - not least so that I could be sure I kept my balance, as this was only my second day in heels after spending a day in them before just to try and get a very literal crash course, made the whole ordeal worth it.
The movie itself was truly a comedy masterpiece, too. Jack Black as the older ‘mentor’ to the younger character of Kyle, desperately trying to find this mystery girl Kyle had fallen wildly in love with through a chance meeting, but never got her name, was definitely something I could relate to on some level.
I don’t think there was a dry eye in the house by the end though, with the comedic payoff. Shawn’s character Alex finally caught up to Kyle and Mack, Jack Black’s character, as well as the mystery girl, Roxanne.
Kyle turned to Alex, demanding to know why the hell he’d been stalking them this whole time. Alex then produced a red handbag and handed it to Roxanne with a dopey ‘You forgot this, Miss’ and Kyle realizing Roxanne’s ID was in the purse, discovers he could have just saved himself all that trouble.
“Well,” Mack said, turning to look at the camera, “It’s like they say. Life is a highway. It’s about the journey, and the adventure you have along the way.”
Kyle rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Mack.” and the screen faded out..
“Oscar material right there,” I overheard someone behind us laugh as we got up to leave the theater, as the credits rolled.
“I can’t believe they only used one of your songs,” I said, and Shannon stopped, grinning back at me. “Wait for it,” she said, pointing at the screen. A moment later, the orchestra music that had been playing began to shift, and then I heard it. They were playing a Midnight Dolls cover of “Life is a Highway,” except Shannon and Jack had turned it into a duet, playing off each other.
“There it is!” Sinead giggled loudly. “They’re actually using another of our songs in the director’s cut too. But they had to cut it for time in the theater run. But they actually let us cut a cover of the title song to close out. That’s even me singing backup vocals.”
“That is amazing,” I said, raising my voice to be heard over the crowd and the music, as we made our way back to the lobby. “It’s just too bad you had to miss the Hollywood premiere.”
“Eh, this was way more fun,” Shawn grinned as a camera flash caught us. Mr. Max was at it again, but at least this time it wasn’t backstage at a concert, and the cat was out of the bag already. I was officially famous for being famous. At least I wasn’t alone. Poor Jamie, Alyssa’s new boyfriend, was just as new to all this as me.
Before this, he was a house EDM DJ just scraping together enough club and private venue gigs to make ends meet. Now he suddenly found himself in need of an actual agent to deal with appearance requests. At least I was just ‘some girl from Boston’ without anything for the masses of corporate slugs to exploit.
Of course, if they wanted to keep sending their talent to the Green-Eyed Maid Inn to meet the hostess and enjoy a semi authentic historical stay, as Ms. Winters apparently had decided, I also wasn’t going to complain.
Delivery driver literally showed up, said “Oh, it’s not on my truck. Sorry about that.” and a day later, it’s still listed as “Emergency or severe weather delay”. I’ll have to call the seller Monday to get them to initiate a package trace and investigation, but as it stands, there are probably 1,973 of them now. Thanks, UPS.
The Green-Eyed Maid Inn
“Crap,” I said to myself, slowing down as the blue lights flashed in my mirror. By some miracle, they flipped back off again. I guess it was just a warning. I rolled up to the stop sign, turned around and gave them an ‘Okay’ hand signal before waving. The cop, looking a bit smug, waved back and nodded at me as if to say ‘Just behave yourself.’
I very quickly realized something had changed after Friday night, and that as much as I wanted to pretend that I was just some girl from Boston who happened to be dating a celebrity, life wasn’t going to let me get away with that delusion for very long - completely apart from the handful of photographers snapping my picture as I departed the hotel. I’d actually gotten used to that after the red carpet event last night, if you can believe that.
It’s funny how quickly you become normalized to some things. But this? This was terrifying in the moment.
A member of the Midnight Dolls’ security detail, a woman named Cori, informed me that she would be escorting me to the station to see me home safely. That actually wasn’t the scary part, though. The scary part came before I reached the station. We were walking down the street away from the hotel when I heard someone shouting my name, sounding like they knew me.
“Riley! Oh my Gosh! Hey!” she called, and I looked around to see a young woman in an NYU sweatshirt grinning and waving at me. She had shoulder length blonde hair in a black ‘Alice’ band and a denim backpack, and I had no idea who she was, and suddenly felt very, very vulnerable.
“Friend of yours?” Cori asked as she came up beside me. I shook my head.
“I have no idea who she is,” I said. I caught a glimpse of Cori moving her hand toward her taser.
“Stay close to me,” she said. “If I tell you to run, you get back into the hotel and don’t look back, understand?”
“Yes ma’am,” I said, taking a couple of steps back as the girl came closer. Maybe it was just because I had gotten used to Nicole’s more laid back attitude where Cori took everything very, very seriously, but it really put me on edge.
“I am SO sorry for bothering you like this,” she said breathlessly. “I just saw you and my mouth engaged before my brain could kick in. You and Shannon looked SO cute together at the premiere last night!”
“Oh,” I said, relaxing a little. Cori kept her hand hovering near her taser, but relaxed a little as well. “Thanks. I’ll be totally honest with you, I’m not used to being recognized in public.
“Really? Oh gosh I’m so sorry,” she said. “Well I didn’t mean to bother you. I just wanted to say hi and how happy I am for you and Shannon. We don’t have just tons of super famous celebrities our age to look up to in the queer community. Seeing you guys just being so... Well, so natural, so real, it’s really exciting, you know?”
“I appreciate that,” I said. “Shannon is the real celebrity though. I’m just some doofus who fell head over heels before I even knew who I was falling in love with.”
The girl giggled. “Yeah I saw your interview with Vogue,” she said, and very slowly, presumably so as not to get tackled, pulled a copy of the physical magazine out of her backpack to show me. I fought back a groan as I realized the magazine had put me right on the front cover. They used Raymond’s shot of us from backstage, too.
“If I’d known I was going to actually run into you I would’ve brought a pen,” she said.
“Oh,” I said, giving her a smile. “I’ve got one.”
“Really? Could you, I mean would it be too much trouble to ask your autograph?”
I blushed a little at that, as I retrieved my plain, boring blue office pen from my camera bag. “Sure. What was your name again?” I said. I knew she hadn’t told me, but I wanted to be polite.
“Aerith.” She hesitated, seemingly embarrassed. “Yes, my well meaning parents are huge video game dorks.”
I smiled as I signed the front of the magazine, ‘To Aerith, my very first fan. - Riley,’ and handed it back to her.
“Thank you so, so much!” Aerith said, and I swear I thought Cori was going to tackle her when she hugged me. She held the magazine close to her for a moment and giggled, before excitedly continuing on her way. I looked at Cori.
“Welcome to fame, sweetie,” she said. “Now you know why I’m coming with you.”
“Thanks,” I sighed. “I guess I’m just used to being able to blend in to the background while fans gush over the girls instead of me. Is this going to become a regular thing?” I asked.
“Unfortunately,” Cori said, “At least until the trash rags find some new story to talk about. At least Vogue, Sweet Sixteen and E! Are being professional about it, but I expect that from them. It’s the British Buzz and the other British trash rags you have to watch out for.”
“I think I prefer being behind the camera,” I said dryly as we kept walking. More than once someone stopped to take a photo of me, I noticed, and once or twice I was asked for another autograph, but eventually we made it to the train.
I initially thought Cori was going to ride the Accelli with me, but when the train did finally arrive, she briefly spoke with an Amtrak employee. I heard Cori refer to me as a VIP, and that seemed to be that. I was on my way back to Boston, where I half expected more autograph hounds, but it was just business as usual by the time I’d arrived. Mom greeted me on the platform.
“Oh I love what you did with your hair! How was your trip?” she said as we walked out to her SUV. I laughed.
“Extensions,” I said, giving the fake locks a playful toss. I was going to have them removed that afternoon, but it was nice while it lasted. “They’re going to Fedex my dress, plus a surprise for Megyn that Shannon found in a guitar shop. And, my gosh, it was exhausting, but oh my gosh it was amazing. Have you ever been to NYC?’ I asked.
“Once or twice,” she said. “It reminds me a lot of the first time I came to Boston - completely overwhelming. Still, I wouldn’t mind catching a broadway play again some day.”
“You should’ve said something,” I said. “I would’ve loved to bring you along Mom. We went to a shadowcast of Rocky Horror the other night that completely blew my mind.”
Mom laughed, “So you’re no longer a virgin, huh?” she said jokingly and grinned as she started to sing, “I remember, doin’ the time warp.”
I couldn’t resist, and joined in with her.
“Let’s do the time warp again!”
We both laughed. “Mom I had no idea you liked Rocky Horror?”
“Tim Curry is my spirit animal,” Mom cackled. “Ever since I saw him as the concierge in Home Alone 2 in the theater. The man is terrifying and fascinating in all the right ways. I didn’t know YOU were a Rocky Horror fan, Rye,” she added playfully.
“I wasn’t, until this week,” I giggled. “I’ve heard the song, Christie’s cheer team did a dance routine that incorporated it. I just never saw the movie before this. Can you drop me off at Crowley’s?” I asked. “I need to see if my bike is street legal.”
“By which you mean it won’t fall into a million pieces the moment you start it up, again?” Mom said jokingly. “Check behind my car seat.”
“Huh?” I said, reaching behind the car seat. I pulled back a brand new motorcycle helmet with a tinted visor, in gorgeous purple, the same shade as my bike. I had, and was fully expecting to find, my old helmet. “Oh my gosh, Mom!”
“Happy birthday sweetheart,” Mom said. “I knew you needed a new helmet anyway. I can’t talk you out of driving that death trap - you’re too much like your aunt Rose,” she teased. “But at least I can know your skull is protected.”
“It’s gorgeous,” I said, hugging her. “I love it! Thank you. I’ll see you back home,” I said as I got out. She smiled and waved before pulling away, and it occurred to me that this was my first time visiting Crowley’s as a girl. Part of me really, really hoped this wasn’t about to get awkward, but it turned out I had nothing to worry about.
A guy with a “Crowley’s” baseball cap that I didn’t recognize approached me as he wiped some grease off his hands. “Can I help you miss?” he asked.
“Is Lynnette here?” I asked.
“Oh yeah, she’s in the body shop,” he said, glancing at the motorcycle helmet under my arm. I just knew he was about to give me crap, but instead, he said, “Oh What?, you’re the owner of that sexy ass ZX-10R? Can I ask, do you race that thing? How’s it handle on corners?”
I blinked, and I couldn’t help the grin that crossed my lips. “I used to, yeah. I mostly took her down to the oval track on weekends and ran time trials with Lynn. She’s rock solid on turns even at high rev, but you’ve got to be confident or she’ll throw you like an angry bronco. Don’t ask me how I know,” I giggled.
He winced. “Oooh ouch. Yeah, I’ve got a 400 myself,” he said as we walked through the garage to get to the body shop. “I used to race it a little back in Portland plus the occasional not exactly legal street races, but it’s a scooter compared to your Z.”
Lynetta, I should mention, was half Mexican and half Navajo, though I think she identified more with her Latina heritage just from being raised in the Boston-Cambridge area. A couple of years older than me, she practically ran Crowley’s body shop section, although she was never afraid to get her hands dirty either. We’d actually met down at the oval, and when I got my bike, she taught me how to ride and race it safely.
She was currently waxing down my bike with a microfiber cloth by hand, so I guessed she had already finished most of it and was just buffing out swirl marks, her long, curly brown hair tied up in a bandana that covered most of the top of her head and kept the rest neatly down her back. I had to laugh, as I could hear strains of Harvest of Hearts’ metal anthem “Rockpocalypse Rising” blaring over her headphones.
She was really belting the lyrics, too, as she turned around, saw me, and squealed as she dropped the polishing cloth and tore off her headphones. “RILEEEY!” She ran forward and grabbed me in a hug. “Oh my God you look amazing!”
“Thanks,” I said, blushing as I hugged her back. “I forgot you haven’t actually seen me since I started my transition.”
“Can I ask how far along you are?” Lynn asked. I was the only person she allowed to call her ‘Lynn’ and I knew it, though I never really knew why. It was just a thing, an unspoken understanding that anyone else calling her that got the stink eye, or a hard smack, depending on the situation. “Have you seen Christie yet?” she added.
I giggled. “I’m about a month in,” I said, touching my chest. “Padding. I’m actually working with Christie now,” I added. “She got a job at the Green-Eyed Maid Inn to help make ends meet.”
“What?” Lynn said, “She should’ve told me she was struggling. Mi casa ella casa, y tu, if you ever need anything.” She motioned to the bike before taking out the keys and handing them to me. “She’s all ready. We completely rebuilt the engine, replaced the fuel line, she’s even got new tires.”
“You guys are the best, I swear,” I said. “I don’t have my checkbook with me, but I’ll get you the first installment by the end of the day.”
“Nah,” Lynn said as she shook her head. “It’s fully paid for.”
I stared at her in confusion. “What?”
“Yeah,” Lynn said. “I’m not allowed to tell you who it was though. They made me promise. Sorry,” she said.
“I don’t even know who has that kind of money besides my boss, and as generous as her and her fiancé are I don’t think they’d do something like that. My girlfriend doesn’t know where I had it being worked on since we never really talk about racing, either.”
“Well, to be fair, you haven’t raced in awhile,” Lynn said.
“Yeah, true,” I said. “I think I enjoyed the track atmosphere, and photographing sexy bikes and even sexier lady bikers than actually racing,” I said playfully. Lynn giggled.
“If you ever change your mind, you know where the track is. The old offer still stands too, if you ever get tired of just racing time trials. I’ve got a robotics genius on my crew now, girl’s an engineering master. She helped Kayleigh knock her track time down by 3 whole ass seconds with the new CF parts she 3D printed for her bike.”
“Damn,” I laughed. “That’s incredible. Tell her I said congrats. As for the offer,” I said as I slid my helmet into place, raising the visor so we could still talk while I sat down on the bike, “I appreciate it, but I don’t think the world is ready for a trans superbike racer. Besides, Shannon would kill me,” I giggled.
“Fair enough,” Lynn said. “You know Sarah Miller’s made some big waves in NASCAR though right?”
“Angel?” I said, nodding. “Yeah, I’ve heard. But she’s got the skill to back it up. Thanks again Lynn. I seriously owe you one.”
“No you don’t,” Lynn said, blowing me a kiss as I flipped my visor down and started the bike. I didn’t rev it too hard because we were still in the body shop, but as soon as I rolled out into the open parking lot, I opened it up, doing a 720 before spinning out onto the street and right in front of a cop.
“Crap,” I said to myself, slowing down as the blue lights flashed in my mirror. By some miracle, they flipped back off again. I guess it was just a warning. I rolled up to the stop sign, turned around and gave them an ‘Okay’ hand signal before waving. The cop, looking a bit smug, waved back and nodded at me as if to say ‘Just behave yourself.’
I wasn’t officially due back at work until Monday, but as I was already out and getting my bike back underneath me so to speak, since I hadn’t been able to take it out for a ride in awhile, I stopped by anyway. The two buskers I had met before were back again, entertaining tourists passing by. They weren’t actually right outside the inn, but I knew if they asked, Erika wouldn’t have a problem with them coming over onto the Inn’s property either.
“Don’t you come around here causing trouble,” Nick said jokingly as I came into the lobby. I grinned back at him, my helmet under my arm.
“What, little ole me?” I said. There were no guests in the lobby, so I felt confident in just checking in to see how things were going. “How’s it going on the homefront?” I asked, adding, “Did that other new cast prospect work out?”
“Six of one,” Nick laughed. “I thought for sure I’d get some more help at the front desk besides me and Amber, but, the new hire wasn’t GEM Inn material according to Erika.”
“Ah, damn,” I said. “Sorry to hear that. I’ll pitch in as much as I can going forward. I still don’t know exactly what she wants from me with the hostessing thing. I just know I’ve got a double shift Monday that doesn’t involve cleaning, so she really wants me to lean into being a hostess full-time.”
“She’s back in the office now if you want to ask her,” Nick said. “I mean I have a rough idea from talking with Kendra and my sister, but I wouldn’t want to lead you astray either.”
“Hey, good idea,” I said. “Thanks Nick,” I said, and added, “You know? This may be my workplace, but, it feels so good to be home.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” he laughed, nodding as I headed to the back offices.
Claire, in her uniform and faux blonde hair that we jokingly called ‘her Rapunzel hair’, was sitting in Erika’s office, chatting away when I stepped into the doorway. She looked up and grinned. “Ha! Speak of the devil and she appears,” she said jokingly as she hopped up to give me a hug. “We were just talking about next week, and what we can do to make your new job easier.”
“That’s what I wanted to come talk to Erika about,” I laughed, as Claire sat back down, and I sat next to her. “I’ve got so many questions that I should have asked sooner.”
“You’ve been busy,” Erika said. “It’s completely understandable. But, please ask away.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Well, I guess I’m mainly just wondering what, exactly, my new duties are going to be going forward. At first I figured i’d just wing it, but the more I’ve had time to think about it, I kind of want to take it more seriously than that. I mean, that’s the whole reason you promoted me, because I take my duties here seriously - and didn’t run the other way at the offer,” I added, shooting Claire a grin. She burst out laughing.
“Better you than me, girl. I love working here, but I can’t take that kind of pressure.”
“Meet and greet, primarily,” Erika said. “I want you to be available to talk with guests, pose for selfies, offer whatever insights you think they might find interesting - basically what you’ve already been doing. If you’d like, we can even schedule proper tours of the GEM. I can provide you with any historical information.”
“Claire’s been a big help with that part already,” I added, causing Claire to beam. “She even gave me the history behind some of the artifacts in our little museum. When I first started I didn’t even know we had a museum,” I added. Claire giggled.
“Yeah, it’s a bit tucked away. Not that many people find it interesting enough to visit, but I just love history. That’s the only reason I’m actually here. I mean, besides wanting to help aunt Erika and aunt Evie.”
“You should pick Nick’s brain, too,” Emily spoke up, leaning in the doorway with a big grin on her face as well.
“I completely forgot he’s a reenactor,” I laughed. “Yeah, I’ll definitely do that,” I said. “So... Meet and greet, selfies, scheduled tours... Anything else?”I asked.
“No, I think that about covers it for now,” Erika said. “I want to get something else off the ground with you later, but if I’m being honest, I’m still trying to feel out how exactly to best handle it. I want to do something with the tea room, you know?”
“Like a tea party?” I asked. Erika’s face lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Yes! Exactly! Like a Colonial or Victorian era tea party, something like my ancestor would have hosted - just, you know, allowing mixed company. She famously would not let men in her tea room,” she laughed. “Not that she didn’t like men, she just felt they had plenty of taverns and public houses already, and that their wives needed a place to feel welcomed and comfortable, too.”
“That sounds like fun,” I said. “We could make it a weekly event at first, and if it turns out super popular, maybe more than one day a week. I’ll talk with Evan about it, and see if the kitchen staff mind a tiny bit of extra work making up some pastries, or if we need to source them elsewhere.”
“Oh,” Erika said, “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to whip something period specific together!” She beamed now. “I’m so glad you stopped by, Rye. You’re just a little ray of sunshine around here.”
I blushed. “Thanks. I try.”
“Hey, Rye,” Erika said, picking up a piece of paper. “Could you do me a big, huge favor and give this to Cassidhe and Dylan? They’re the street buskers hanging out near the Inn. It’s an official permit to play on GEM property if they’d like.”
“They’ve been so good for business,” Claire giggled. “Even if they’re not exactly period.”
“Oh sure!” I said. “Did Megyn ever apply? I asked. “She’s been low key hinting that she’s thinking about it part time.”
“She did,” Erika said.
“Oh no, she’s not the one who wasn’t GEM inn material was she?” I asked hesitantly. Erika giggled and shook her head.
“Oh no, not at all dear. You actually just missed her.”
“Lacey’s teaching her how to make a bed the GEM Inn way,” Emily giggled as I stood.
“Oh good,” I laughed. “I’m glad she’s found a family here like I have. Thank you all so much for looking after her while I’ve been out of town.”
“Hey, it’s like you said,” Emily said, stretching her arm out to hug me as I approached her, “We’re family here.”
After stepping outside, I found the two buskers just packing up their instruments, and approached them, waving. Cassidhe smiled brightly back at me and Dylan waved lazily.
“Oh, hi Riley!” she said excitedly. “We saw you on E! This morning,” she giggled.
“What’s up?” Dylan asked, noticing the paper.
“Ms. Van Laderman asked me to give you guys this. It’s a permit to play right on the Green-Eyed Maid Inn property if you ever want to use it, or if anyone ever hassles you.”
“Oh my Gosh,” Cassidhe’s eyes lit up. “Really?” I nodded.
“Wow,” Dylan said. “Thanks. This is awesome.”We’ve got a Cambridge Arts license, but we try not to get too close to private businesses.”
“Yeah, they get real touchy about modern music near some of the historic places,” Cassidhe sighed. “I’m legit shocked Ms. Van Laderman says it’s okay for us to play right on the Inn property.” She hugged me. “Thank you so much!”
“No problem,” I said, smiling back at them. “I’m just the messenger,” I said, and put my helmet back on as I walked to my bike. This time, I decided to forego the showing off in the parking lot just in case another of Boston or Cambridge’s finest happened to be watching.
The Green-Eyed Maid Inn
I very nearly choked on my cappuccino. “You’re the robotics expert she told me about?”
Avery cackled. “You’re the superbike owner I hooked her up with some custom parts for! Holy crap.”
Megyn and Avery were in the living room watching anime on Netflix when I came into the room that evening with a huge bowl of popcorn for them, and a smaller one for myself. “Is this a private party?” I asked.
Avery and Megyn looked at each other. They both grinned.
“Well it was,” Megyn said jokingly, “But we’ll make an exception since it’s you.”
“Besides, I’ve already seen this one,” Avery said, patting the sofa next to her. “How was the big city? Hey, cute necklace,” she added, referring to my unicorn pendant, which had a tiny sapphire eye, a parting birthday gift from the band that I found in my luggage. Apparently they had snuck it in along with a really sweet note when I wasn't looking.
“Thanks. And, it was exhausting, but amazing,” I said. “Next time I’m going to ask Mom to go too, and Dad if he feels like it, and I’d love to bring you two along too. I promised Mom a broadway show since Shannon and I only got to see a Rocky Horror shadowcast.”
“Kickass,” Avery said. Megyn nodded.
“Yeah that sounds amazing.” She seemed to hesitate as a momentary silence fell over the three of us, other than the sound of me and Avery crunching popcorn. “Hey Rye, I got a stupid question.”
“There’s no such thing,” I said. “What’s up?”
“How did you get into your hobbies?” she asked. “Still thinking about what Beth said, you know, finding hobbies for self-therapy. Getting to borrow your Grandma’s guitar has been incredible though, don’t get me wrong. I’m just curious how you got into stuff like photography, you know?”
“Well,” I said thoughtfully, “Most of my hobbies I sort of just fell into.”
“Really?” Megyn asked. “How do you fall into a hobby? Like, for Avery 3D printing was a natural extension of her general interest in making cool tech, working with robots, that sort of thing.”
I nodded. “Exactly. I definitely never set out to become a photographer originally.” I paused and then gave them both a sheepish smile. “Okay, if you want to know the absolute truth, I initially only signed up for photojournalism class because I wanted to get to know Candace Walker.”
They both stared at me. “You joined an elective to impress a girl?” Megyn asked. I nodded sheepishly. Avery giggled.
“Wow, Rye. That’s,” she paused, as if trying to find the right words for it.
“Shallow?” I asked. She laughed and gently slapped my arm.
“No, it’s kind of cute, actually. But uh, now I have to ask, what happened?”
“Yeah, give us the juicy details,” Megyn said. “You told us one time how Mrs. Hamilton is a stickler about making you use film and develop it yourself. You were in a dark room with a girl you were crushing on. Did you ever, you know, slip and accidentally bump into her?” She wiggled her eyebrows playfully.
“She dropped out before the year had even started,” I laughed. “But I figured since I had already signed up and bought the damn camera, that I might as well stick with it. I ended up completely falling in love with it, and that’s how I ended up racing, too.”
Avery sat up and looked at me. “Wait a minute, what are you talking about racing?” She then quickly added, “No, don’t answer that right now. I’ll ask you about it later. This is about helping Megyn right now.”
“Oh,” I said, “Well it’s actually related. See, when I was 15 Mrs. Hamilton suggested that I get more experience with action photography. I didn’t want to cover the same boring football games everyone else was shooting, so I looked around and found out about the Snider Speedway. I started going every weekend, initially to take photos, and one thing led to another. I made friends with a racing crew and eventually bought my Ninja off one of them and started doing time trials.”
“Oh my God,” Avery muttered under her breath.
“That’s so cool,” Megyn said. “So like, you’re saying you just kind of took the plunge and said ‘I wanna try this’ without any real idea if you would enjoy it or not?”
“Exactly,” I said. “I mean don’t get me wrong. I didn’t go into either photography or racing totally blind. I did a little research online, reading articles and reviews - on cameras and bikes respectively, but like, I bought the camera based on class requirements, having never picked one up, and Aunt Rose helped me buy the Z when one of my friends from the track upgraded to a brand new model.”
“I remember you housesitting for her a lot,” Avery said, nodding.
“Yeah,” I said. “That’s another thing, Megyn. Our family LOVES to help each other out like that. If there’s something you’re interested in or even think you might be, don’t let money stop you. Whatever it is, we’ll crowdfund you. If you end up hating it, hey, you only live once, and you’ve got that experience and a few interesting stories out of it.”
Megyn looked down at her hands thoughtfully for a moment. “There is something,” she said. “But I didn’t want to say anything because I don’t want to come off like I’m fishing for a favor, which you know I would never.”
Avery took Megyn’s hand in hers, squeezing it gently. “Hey, whatever it is, you can tell us.”
Megyn sighed and then looked up at us. “I really want to get into music, but I don’t even know where to start. I LOVE to sing, and I’ve managed to teach myself a couple of cowboy chords on Grandma June’s guitar, but like, all these child prodigies out there who’ve been playing Mozart on the violin since they popped out of the cradle, it’s hard not to feel cooked.”
“You know,” I said, grinning, “U2’s bassist has admitted he actually had absolutely no idea what the hell he was doing at first. He literally made fake it till you make it a lifestyle, and I think he did pretty well for himself. And I personally know someone whose parents forced her to learn the violin from the age of around 2 or 3.” I paused for dramatic effect and then added in a stage whisper, “She absolutely hates the violin now,” I laughed.
“Oooohh,” Avery cackled. “That’s beautiful.”
To quote Claire from earlier that day, speak of the devil and she appears, although in this case, it was just a phone call.
“Hey you,” I laughed. “We were just talking about you.”
“Uh oh,” Shannon laughed. “Nothing bad I hope,” she teased.
“Not at all. I was just telling Avery and Megyn how much you love the violin.”
“Oh, fuck you too,” Shannon laughed. Avery and Megyn burst out laughing next to me, as it was quite loud enough for them to hear it over the phone. “Actually, Megyn is the reason I’m calling. I wanted to ask for your advice. Well, Tara and I do,” she said, and I heard Tara’s voice chime in with a ‘hey Rye’ from close by, and I realized I was on speaker.
“Oh sure,” I said as I got up and stepped into the hallway, heading for the kitchen to make myself a cappuccino. “How can I help?”
“We’ve been talking,” Tara said, “About Megyn and how she’s practically family by proxy, not just because you and Shannon are dating, but because of your aunt Rose as well, you know? We’re extremely close with Harvest.”
“Robin is like the big sister I never had,” Shannon laughed. “And Elizabeth is full of amazing singing life hacks.”
“Exactly,” Tara said. “Okay, I’m just going to come right out and say it. When I was Megyn’s age, my parents threw me out of the house as well. My story only worked out because my amazing friends helped me get through it, and eventually I joined the Midnight Dolls, and the rest is history. I want to pay it forward, but I’m so afraid I’ll make it worse, you know?”
“She’s worried Megyn will think she’s only doing it because we’re dating,” Shannon translated. “And I mean fair enough, I can’t say I wouldn’t feel that way if I was in her shoes - Megyn’s or Tara’s. But you know her better than we do. Do you think she’d be okay with us helping her along a little on her musical journey?”
“Oh,” I said after thinking about it for a moment, “I think if you explained it the way you just explained to me, the connection to Aunt Rose and all, I think she’ll be thrilled.”
“You really think so?” Tara almost squeaked.
“She idolizes you guys,” I laughed. “Tara, I think finding out you’ve been exactly where she is right now would be really good for her self esteem.”
“So,” Tara said, “If, say, we were to show up on your doorstep in the morning and take over your garage for a good old fashioned garage band jam session, she’d enjoy that?”
“Oh my God,” I laughed. “She’d freaking love you forever.”
“Oh, thank God,” Shannon laughed. “Because we’ll be at your doorstep around ten.”
“Thank you, Rye,” Tara giggled, “For putting my mind at ease. I just, I want so much to talk to her about all this, as someone who has been there, and does know what she’s going through, but I didn’t want to seem like overbearing or whatever.”
Avery grinned as I walked back into the room with my coffee. “What?” I asked.
“You’re glowing again, sis,” Avery giggled.
“I’m always glowing,” I said jokingly. “I’m a hundred watt light bulb these days.”
She and Megyn both burst out laughing as I sat back down. “So,” Avery said, “I gotta ask, before I forget... Do you happen to know someone named Lynetta?”
I very nearly choked on my cappuccino. “You’re the robotics expert she told me about?”
Avery cackled. “You’re the superbike owner I hooked her up with some custom parts for! Holy crap.”
Megyn, giggling, started singing the lyrics to the “It’s a Small World” ride, and I stuck out my tongue at her.
“Just for that, missy, I’m dragging you both on that ride when we go to Disney World this year.”
Megyn giggled even louder. “Can’t wait! I haven’t been since I was, like, 3, so I have almost no memory of it other than making my parents ride the tea cups like five times in one day.”
“By the way,” I said, “Tara says she’d like to talk to you, but she’s worried you might think she’s only interested in hanging out because Shannon and I are dating.”
“Well, I mean, why else would she want to?” Megyn asked honestly.
“I think it’s because they’re best friends with Harvest, and since aunt Rose is their lead sound engineer, they consider you family by proxy,” I said, adding, “And because Tara has some life experiences she wants to share with you. It’s one of those ‘it’s not my story to share’ things, but, let’s just say her wikipedia page is missing some details about her early life.”
“Ooh, oh wow,” Megyn said. “Yeah that actually explains a lot. Of all the Dolls she’s the one we --know the least about, and now I can see why. But um, yeah, I’d love to hang out and talk sometime.”
“How’s tomorrow?” I asked. “You don’t have work do you?”
“Tomorrow’s good,” Megyn said, surprised, but grinned, singing, “It’s only a day away!”
This has been such a fun ride slowly getting back into writing ad editing again. I just hope the final chapter next week doesn't feel too abrupt. I never was any good at actually ending a story (Just look at Becoming Robin Book 2 lol)
- Zoë
The Green-Eyed Maid Inn
I wanted to think she was joking, but her tone, expression, all seemed to suggest this was not something she would joke about. I had no idea what to even say to that.
“Thank you,” I managed. “I don’t think I’m cut out for modeling.”
“Nonsense,” Karen spoke up as she approached us now, having photographed me at least half a dozen times from different angles beforehand. “Anyone can be trained how to stand, walk, smile, pout, but a natural team player is worth double her weight in gold.”
By all accounts, Megyn had the absolute time of her life getting to spend the day hanging out with the Midnight Dolls. She didn’t faint when Shannon presented her with the Joni Mitchell acoustic guitar, but she did break down crying, thanking her over and over again after Shannon refused to take no for an answer. And, more than just a music lesson, both Shannon and Sinead coached her on basic music theory for songwriting, too, and by the end of the day, had worked out a schedule for future lessons over Skype.
Shannon and I talked about going out to dinner that night, but ultimately we decided to stay in and enjoyed Mom’s delicious cooking. For someone who came from a small family, Mom knew how to cook for a crowd, including the band’s security detail plus Victoria, who I think, appreciated the homecooked meal more than anyone.
I came in to work early on Monday because I knew it was going to be a very, very long day, parking my bike around the back of the Inn and slipping inside that way, as the front lobby was already starting to pick up business, even at this early hour, and I didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to myself.
“You’re glowing,” Christie said as I walked into the costume department. I looked up at her and giggled. That was the second time in as many days that someone had said that to me
“I am?” I asked. She laughed.
“Yes, you are. Did you and Shannon...” she trailed off, and I blushed.
“Not yet,” I said. Shannon knew about me by now, and it wasn’t like we hadn’t fooled around a little, but sex was not something I was ready to think about yet - not just with Shannon, but with anyone, and Shannon completely respected that
I put my bike helmet down and sat at one of the vanity mirrors to start doing my makeup, getting Christie and Emily caught up on what had happened with Megyn, not to mention my week off in the big city.
I was by no means anything resembling an expert yet, but doing my makeup for the role of a cleaning girl, and now hostess, was easy - just foundation and a little color here and there to create a natural look, nothing fancy.
“That is so freaking awesome,” Christie said as she came up behind me. “I’m so happy for her.”
“Yeah,” I said, looking up at Christie’s reflection. “Hey that reminds me, I talked to Lynetta over the weekend. She said she’s going to put her size 8 1/2 boot up your butt for not telling her you needed help.” I laughed, and she giggled too.
“She’s already done so much to help me out,” she said and shook her head. “I’ll stop by Crowley’s on the way home and talk to her though, let her know I’m okay. Are you okay though?” she asked.
“Me?” I said. “Yeah. I’m a little nervous about this first day as full time hostess, but other than that I’m on cloud 11.”
“Shouldn’t that be cloud 9?” Emily giggled as she emerged from one of the two changing stalls in full uniform.
“Nah, my cloud goes to 11,” I said. Emily and Christie both burst out laughing. “Sorry,” I said. “We watched ‘This is Spinal Tap’ after dinner last night as part of Megyn’s induction into being a future rock diva.”
“BTW Claire said she has a present for you,” Christie said. “She didn’t say what’s up, just that she was picking everything up on the way in and not to let you change clothes.”
“Uh oh,” I said. “Wonder what that’s about?” But I didn’t have long to wait, as Claire came through the door with a big cylindrical white box under one arm, and a garment bag over her shoulder. “Speak of the devil and she appears,” I laughed.
“My ears were burning,” Claire giggled playfully. “Okay, so, before I show you the new dress auntie Erika commissioned for you as hostess,” she said and put down the cylindrical box, “We debated on whether the hostess would wear a cap or not, or how you would want to wear your hair, so, I called in a favor.”
“Oh, wow,” I said as Claire opened the box and pulled out a small, formless white mannequin bust, atop which rested a full long wig with my exact hue of medium dark red. “It’s beautiful.”
“You don’t have to use it at all,” Claire said. “We just wanted to make sure you had as many options open to you as possible. Wigs were, like, insanely fashionable back then which is how I get away with the Rapunzel hair though,” she teased.
“Exactly,” I said in agreement. “This is absolutely something a hostess would wear! I’m letting mine grow out, but until then, Claire this is perfect,” I said, standing up to hug her. “Thank you so much.”
“Aw, it’s no big,” Claire said. “Now, the dress I had absolutely nothing to do with so if you hate that, blame Erika,” she teased, handing me the garment bag.
Unlike the basic black of servants’ clothing, the dress looked like something almost right out of high court fashion of the time, made of golden colored cloth with delicate, intentional folds. The sleeves ended in a lace bell style, and the bodice was lined in tiny pearls. In the bottom of the bag were a pair of matching gold shoes, with little white silk bows on the toes, the heels of which were only slightly higher than what I was already used to wearing.
“Oh my gosh,” I said, “It’s beautiful. And, more importantly, it’s not green,” I laughed.
“Oh I know right?” Claire laughed. “Erika actually wanted to go with green originally, but after seeing the sample illustrations the costumers came up with she backed out. She said she didn’t want to make you look like a living Christmas tree.”
“I appreciate that,” I burst out laughing, and rushed to change. Claire helped me with the faux hair afterwards, showing me how to properly pin it down so it wouldn’t fly off in the first stiff breeze, and we fussed with it a bit to get just the right look that said ‘Hostess’ and not ‘Expensive tavern wench’ - which, surprisingly, took us a bit of work.
It didn’t help that Emily kept humming the Pirates of the Caribbean theme the entire time, all because I joked that the dress reminded me of Miss Elizabeth’s dress from the start of the first movie, minus the corsets.
“You look stunning,” Erika said as I entered the main lobby, followed by the entire entourage of cleaning staff like some kind of lady in waiting and her servants. It felt a little awkward, being the center of attention like that, especially as guests who were just checking in even stopped to snap photos of us.
“Thank you,” I said and gave a little curtsey. “This dress is just... so much. I love it, but my goodness,” I said in my best Green-Eyed Maid voice. I was very much playing the part of a bewildered maid promoted to lady, and living it too.
An older woman with very nearly white, platinum blonde hair and wearing a tailored business suit approached us. I tried to ignore the red haired lady in the denim jeans and suede jacket walking around, seemingly oblivious to everyone around us, and snapping photos on a new Nikon D5. The way she moved, tilted her camera, knelt, she was clearly an expert at her craft, and as Ms. Winters introduced herself, I realized she was indeed with Winters, Inc.
“It is such an honor to finally meet you Riley,” Ms. Winters had said after excitedly shaking my hand. She lowered her voice playfully so the guests wouldn’t hear, “Not least because poor Erika’s been trying to cajole someone into this role for the past year.” She grinned at me.
I couldn’t help it and giggled. “Someday I will have to ask what happened to the previous hostess, but we have some big plans going forward. It’s both a pleasure and an honor to meet you as well, though. My dear sister’s friend Marilyn has had nothing but praise for you and the agency.”
Ms. Winters looked genuinely, if only momentarily, shocked by that. She didn’t say it, but I knew she instantly knew who I was now, presumably because Marilyn had explained why she was dropping her entire life to return home a few weeks ahead of the big, upcoming fashion show in which she would be returning anyway.
“I’m going to be brutally honest with you, Ms. Riley,” Ms. Winters said - and she was indeed Ms. Winters. Anyone daring to call her Melissa, with the probable exception of Karen, the photographer I mentioned before, would very quickly learn the error of their ways. “If I hadn’t so much respect for my dearest friend Erika and the amount of work she’s put into her inheritance here, I’d be trying to poach you for my modeling agency right under her nose.”
I wanted to think she was joking, but her tone, expression, all seemed to suggest this was not something she would joke about. I had no idea what to even say to that.
“Thank you,” I managed. “I don’t think I’m cut out for modeling.”
“Nonsense,” Karen spoke up as she approached us now, having photographed me at least half a dozen times from different angles beforehand. “Anyone can be trained how to stand, walk, smile, pout, but a natural team player is worth double her weight in gold.”
I spent the rest of that morning meeting with the Winters Inc. talent as they came through, posing for selfies or, more often working directly with Karen to stage photos. I think I surprised her. She might have known I was a team player just based on whatever stories Erika might have told her - being a silent senior partner in the agency as well as lead photographer, but my knowledge about lighting and photography really shone through that first day.
I was given an hour for lunch since I’d be back at it again that afternoon and late into the evening, so after changing into my street clothes and placing Ms. Riley’s hair on the mannequin bust, I went over to the Inn’s restaurant to meet Shannon for lunch.
Karen approached our table not long after we sat down. “Sorry to intrude,” she said. “I know you’re just getting your break so I promise I won’t keep you, but can I ask you a personal question?” she asked. “Hi Shannon,” she added warmly. “Great to see you again.”
“Hi Karen,” Shannon said as brightly and even got up to hug her.
“You guys know each other?” I asked and then added, “Any friend of Shannon’s is a friend of mine.”
“Absolutely,” Shannon said. “Please, come sit with us! I was actually a model briefly with Winters, Inc when I was a teenager, before I was recruited to be the frontwoman for Midnight Dolls.”
“Oh that’s so cool,” I said. “I thought you were a founding member,” I added as Karen sat down with us. “Oh I’m sorry,” I said. “What was it you wanted to ask?”
Karen laughed softly watching my back and forth with Shannon. “Well I was just wondering where you got your photography training? There is absolutely no way you’re old enough to have a college degree, but you’ve got more insight than a lot of professionals I’ve worked with over the years.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I graduated from the Boston Latin Academy school of hard knocks, under the watchful gaze of Lara Hamilton. But, our yearbook staff has taken home the gold crown every year for the past 10 years under her advisement.”
Of course, I was part of the newspaper staff and not yearbook, but the yearbook folks did publish some of my photos, and many yearbook photographers’ pics ended up in our newspaper too. Unlike the layout designers and writers, us camera dorks were a shared commodity pool, and we liked it like that.
“And a Pace Maker last year as I recall,” Karen said. “The only reason I know that is because I was asked to give out that award myself,” she giggled. “But, yeah, that explains everything. Lara could be teaching at any fine arts college in the nation. The fact she still teaches at a public high school, that’s just awesome.”
The three of us chatted over a lunch of beef stew that I swear, Evan and the staff had completely outdone themselves with this time, and afterwards, Karen wrote something down on the back of a business card, pushing it over to me.
“Melissa doesn’t want to poach you as a model, but that doesn’t mean I can’t offer you a contract job if you’re up for it.”
“Can I ask what the difference is?” I asked. Karen laughed.
“Mainly?” she said, grinning, “You don’t have to move out to Los Angeles. I’m always looking for regional photographers that I can work with for gigs that pop up. I wasn’t coming here to scout for talent, but I’m not going to ignore a golden opportunity when I see one, either.”
“Wait, you want me to- but you haven’t even seen my portfolio yet,” I said. She shook her head, showing me her phone. She had my Zenfolio page pulled up. I had only recently even set the account up with Sinead’s amazing help, but the band had been sharing my snaps across all their social media, so I shouldn’t have been terribly surprised Karen had found it so easily.
“Yeah I have,” Karen grinned. “What the heck is the story between those two semi trucks barreling towards you in this one though?” she asked, pointing. I laughed.
“I actually shot that with an f4 200mm tele lens. I’m well off behind a guard rail on a closed oval track. They were running a 10 lap challenge for charity,” I explained.
“Ah gotcha,” Karen said, looking at her phone again. “Your street skills are great, but more importantly you know lighting and portrait photography without thousands of dollars in fancy lighting equipment. Sure, it helps, but as photographers we don’t always get the luxury of setting up in a studio with perfect lighting. So, you up for it?”
“Sure,” I said, “Consider me contracted. I just need to clear it with Erika first so she knows I’m not abandoning the Inn. I love it here.”
Karen grinned even more broadly as she offered me her hand. “I’ll have some paperwork faxed over to me and bring it to you to sign this evening, but, upfront I’ll just straight tell you, you can always decline a gig. You can use whatever gear you already have or you can request a business expense stipend, within reason. Welcome to Winters, Inc.”
“Congrats!” Shannon squealed finally and giggled. “Sorry. I’ve been holding that in for like the last minute and a half. Rye I am so proud for you!”
“I can’t wait to see Melissa’s face, though,” Karen giggled. “I poached a togger right out from under her for a change,” she teased, grinning at me.
“It’s only fair since I stole Nicole,” Shannon laughed.
“Nah,” Karen giggled. “Nicole was ready to get out of L.A. for awhile. Helping her found Nikita Protection Services was my idea.” She winked playfully, as the big, ticking grandfather clock nearby chimed the hour.
“Oh, shoot,” I said. “That’s my break.” I pulled a $20 bill and slid it up under my plate for whomever bussed our table to find as a tip. I then leaned over and gave Shannon a kiss. “See you tonight?”
“If not sooner, Ms. Riley,” Shannon teased and giggled, giving my hand a squeeze before letting me go so I could change back into costume.
After getting back into costume and fixing my hair and makeup, I went to find Erika in her office. I knocked twice, and she smiled and motioned for me to come inside.
“I’m thinking of using this photo of you on our newly relaunched website,” she said as she tilted the flat panel monitor to show me. It was one of the ones Karen had snapped that very morning. “What do you think?”
“I’m okay with it,” I said. I hesitated, and then just came right out with it. “Karen offered me a job as a contract photographer, but before I sign anything I wanted to talk to you about it.”
She listened as I told her exactly what I was hoping to do, taking on the contracting as a freelancer rather than a full time photographer because I really wanted to keep my day job here at the Inn. Her face betrayed just the tiniest flicker of excitement at that, I noticed.
“This is perfect,” Erika said happily.
“It is?” Iasked. She nodded.
“I’ve always contracted with Winters Inc photographers to handle the GEM’s public relations. Having you as a contractor with them actually saves me an absolute mountain of paperwork later. My poor accountant, who happens to also be my beloved, will thank you too, she giggled out.
“Awesome,” I said as I sat back in the chair. “Karen will have everything for me to sign this evening. For now though,” I said, standing again, “I have more guests to greet. But I wanted to be the first to tell you that I’m not going anywhere. I know what Ms. Winters said about trying to poach me this morning.”
Erika all but cackled. “And now, Karen’s come along and poached you as a photographer oh that’s too good,” she said between giggles. “Thank you Riley. That made my day.”
“Happy to be of service,” I giggled, and swept out of the room to return to hostessing duty.
But, that’s my story, at least so far. I now work as a hostess and tour guide for the Green-Eyed Maid, but I also don the black and white of a servant’s dress and apron to clean rooms when business is slow.
Shannon and I are still going steady, and even though the tour is over, her visa allows her to stay here in Boston. And while neither of us really know what the future holds, I plan to tease Shannon about a rumor going around that she was recently spotted leaving a Kay Jeweler’s, and how rumors are flying that she’s going to pop the question, even though it’s only our six month anniversary.
Avery and Megyn are still together too, and Megyn still lives with us, but, I am really happy to say that she and her mom are on speaking terms again. Her mom even apologized, not just to Megyn, but to all of us. She admitted she was wrong, and, she’s even going to counseling now, so Megyn promised to come visit her family. I want to believe she’s trying to be a better person, not just for Megyn’s sake, but for the sake of Megyn’s younger sibling. But that, as my auntie Rose would say, isn’t my story to tell.