Authors note: I know I said I wasnt' going to post the rest of the story, but if you can't read it anywhere else here it is. Please consider giving me a review on amazon. https://www.amazon.com/Mud-Creek-Sarah-Hillcrest-ebook/dp/B0H6JS7MW7 I know many of you can't and I totally understand, no need to buy it, just looking for reviews to try to get people to notice it.
It's been awhile so just to catch you up, Lucy was accused of drinking on the job, but she was really fired because rumors had been building that her, Sarah/Whit and Grace had some kind of inappropriate relationship going. Sarah being seen around town presenting as a woman as finally caught up with them and Grace had always been a hot topic around Mud Creek. Especially when word got out that Sarah and Lucy took her to emergency room when she was in her camming outfit.
Lucy realized there was a sort of intersection between her drinking and Whit's closeted transgenderism, they were both being persecuted for it. She told off her boss and drove to the liquor store parking lot where she has called Sarah.
So here it. Again I can't thank you enough for reading and comments. This story meant the world to me.
Sarah.
Lucy noted that this was the first time when thinking about her spouse's name that she'd filled in the blank with Sarah. She pulled her phone out of her purse and called.
"Hey, Sarah, how's it going?"
"Umm… fine. Delivering mail. Is something wrong?"
Lucy wiped tears from her eyes. "I just got fired."
"Hold on, let me pull over." A few seconds passed and then Sarah asked, "Tell me what happened."
Lucy told her the story, focusing on the bottle of vodka, and leaving out the part where Darlene thought she was being abused and forced to live with her sex fiend husband or something.
"That fucking bitch. No, there's no way. She can't do this to you," Sarah said.
"What do you think I'm going to do? File a grievance with the union? It's a cash-under-the-table job." Lucy paused, blew her nose and wiped her eyes then continued. "I'm done. I'm done with this town, I'm done with these people, I've got to get out. If I stay here I'm going to drink myself to death."
"Look, I'm heading back to the office and coming home, we'll figure this out," Sarah said.
Lucy smiled. Whit would have never said that. He would have said something like, "Whatever you do, don't drink, I'll be home as soon as I can. I love you."
"No. Thank you, but no," Lucy said. "Finish your day. We can talk tonight, but before I go I have to know something. When I leave… Are you coming with me?"
There was a short pause, then a single, "Yes."
***
Lucy drove to the Carbondale DCFS office an hour later. Signed in, filled out form after form, and then sat through a twenty-minute intake interview. The caseworker asked about her employment status and living situation. Lucy answered honestly, she was unemployed. She was moving to Carbondale soon. She listed her spouse as Darren Whitlock and then swallowed a lump in her throat.
"My spouse is transitioning, is that going to be a problem?" she asked.
The caseworker pushed her glasses up her nose and looked at Lucy over her clipboard. "Transitioning?"
"Genders."
The caseworker continued writing. "In the state of Illinois it would be illegal for us to discriminate against your spouse in that way. The stability and the safety of the home are what matters."
Lucy left with a PRIDE training schedule, information about the home study she would need to get when she moved, and several pamphlets of information.
An hour later Lucy was at the offices of Shawnee Alliance. She inquired about the geriatric home health coordinator position advertised and was told to wait. Thirty minutes later she sat through an informal interview, the manager seemed impressed. She specifically left Darlene out of her references.
Lucy felt like she'd lived more in the last four hours than the last four years. She stopped at a drive-through and bought a strawberry milkshake on the way home to celebrate.
Chapter 34
May 17th, 2026
"Okay, last one," Sarah said as she carried the last box into Evan's apartment. She set it on the stack in the middle of the living room. Stood straight and tugged her dress down.
"Thanks," Grace said as she stepped back and looked at the pile of cardboard boxes and plastic crates. "My whole life fits in 12 boxes."
Sarah laughed. "So I've got your word, you'll help us move?"
"Yeah, up to 12 boxes."
Sarah snorted. "That's like one room. You want to start putting stuff away?"
"Nahh, Evan'll be home in a couple hours." Grace looked behind her into the small bedroom. The apartment was sparse and clean. "We've got to figure out where I'll put it. Anyway, I can't believe you guys are moving."
"Yeah, Lucy loves her new job, but not the daily hour commute," Sarah said.
Grace went to the fridge and brought back Sarah a soda, they both sat down on the couch. "But what about your job, and teaching?"
Sarah took a drink. "I resigned from teaching. It barely paid anything anyway."
"But you were so good," Grace said.
Sarah stared off into space. "Thanks, but it's time to move on from there."
"Speaking of moving on," Grace set her soda on the coffee table. "How are things at the post office? Are you staying there?"
Sarah looked down at the can of soda. "For now, I guess."
Grace tilted her head. "For now?"
"I've got so many years, benefits, retirement, and it's a good job."
"But you haven't told them. You're not Sarah there."
The room felt quieter, Sarah didn't deny it, she nodded her head.
"Just about everywhere else you're Sarah, how long can you keep this up?"
"It's not that easy. What do I do, just announce it in the middle of the office. 'Hey everyone, I'm a girl now.'"
Grace laughed and took a drink. "No, go tell your boss you're transitioning. Tell her your name is Sarah, and that you are in the process of making legal changes to your name. When people use your old name, tell them your new name. It'll suck at first, but some of them will get used to it."
Sarah nodded and looked down at her hands. Grace grabbed her purse and took out a bottle of red nail polish then sat down next to Sarah.
"Here, give me your hand," she said.
Sarah resisted. "I don't think…"
"Geez, you're wearing a dress but you won't let me paint your fingernails?"
Sarah nodded and Grace unscrewed the cap and began painting, slow careful strokes. After blowing on the nails she switched to the other hand. When she was through Sarah held her hand out in front of her and admired how they gleamed.
A memory surfaced, hazy from childhood. Her grandmother taking her out for ice cream in a shiny Buick. Seats too big for her. How her fingers reached forward to adjust the big knob for the radio. Her sparkling rings, and her red fingernails. Sarah always thought she was so beautiful.
"My grandmother had fingernails this color," Sarah said quietly.
Grace capped the bottle. "Now tomorrow, you're going to have to explain this, or you can clean it off tonight if you want."
"Thank you," Sarah started to reach out for a hug, but Grace pushed her back.
"Let them dry, you dummy," she giggled.
Sarah started to cry. "I'm so glad I met you."
"Me too." Grace pushed Sarah's arms up and then tightly hugged her.
***
Sarah tapped on the postmaster's open door.
"Come in," she said.
The postmaster looked up from her computer, and glitched for a second taking in the person in her office.
"Can I help you, Whit?"
"I hope so," Sarah said.
She had a pretty good idea how this was going to go. Linda had been postmaster for a long time, but she had several years left before retirement. Her one guiding principle was to cover her ass. For once, Sarah thought, her insistence on doing things by the book would benefit the both of them.
Sarah raised her hand holding her name badge and the ruby red nail polish that Grace had painted on the day before. She was wearing women's khaki shorts, a pastel yellow tank top, with an unbuttoned flowing blue shirt. Her long hair was pulled up with a ruffled hairband. Her makeup was understated, just a bit of foundation, natural eye shadow, bit of mascara, a touch of lip gloss.
"I'd like to get my badge changed. I'll be changing my name and gender marker on my driver's license soon," Sarah said. She'd practiced the words 20 times in the mirror this morning.
"Okay… ummm?" Linda looked at her screen, she knew there was an email buried somewhere that had a link to the official USPS guide for handling this. She looked back up at Sarah. "What are you changing it to?"
"Sarah Whitlock, I'll be using she/her pronouns from now on."
"And you want to start this today?" Linda asked.
"Yeah, sorry, I should have talked to you earlier, but… I just wanted to rip the bandaid off, just move on." Sarah tilted her head. "Is that a problem?"
"No, no, it's fine, I'm sure. We have a zero-discrimination policy about this sort of thing. How do you want to tell everyone?"
"Could you make a bit of an announcement, like a stand-up talk?"
Linda frowned, she reached over to her printer where she'd already printed out the day's notes. "Sure, yeah, I've got a couple memos to cover. What do you want me to say?"
Sarah smiled. "Just say that I'm Sarah now, Sarah Whitlock, that I'd like people to use she and her when addressing me. That's all."
"I guess the bathroom won't be a problem?" Linda asked.
Sarah smiled. "Considering we have one, and it locks, I don't think that'll be a problem."
Linda stood up and took a deep breath. "Okay, let's take a picture for your new badge."
A few minutes later Sarah followed the postmaster out on the floor. Everyone stopped and all eyes turned. The rabid speculation about who the new girl who came in through the back and made a beeline for the offices came to a close. The clerks stopped sorting packages. The floor became silent.
"Alright, everyone, gather round for a quick stand-up talk." She waited a couple of seconds while carriers shuffled over from their cases. "Whit, or um, Darren Whitlock's new name is Sarah Whitlock. She'll be using she/her pronouns. If you have questions about that you can talk to me. Now I have a few memos from the Postmaster General."
Linda quickly read off a few generic bullet points about unpredictable spring weather, safety, and customer service before taking off. There were a couple seconds where the entire staff all continued standing around trying not to stare at Sarah.
Finally Carrie spoke up. "Congratulations, Sarah," and clapped.
There was a smattering of light clapping, and then everyone went back to work.
For a moment Sarah stood there in silence as work continued around her. She felt utterly ignored. Fred walked by with a tray of mail, he didn't make eye contact. A scanner beeped from across the room.
Not a single question? Did I think I was going to give a speech?
Sarah turned back to her case and began sorting.
***
"So how did it go?" Lucy asked.
Sarah set her cooler on the kitchen cabinet and sat down at the table across from her wife. "Fine, I guess, I wasn't fired," she said with a chuckle. "Linda did exactly what she was supposed to do. Carrie even clapped for me."
"But?" Lucy asked, picking up the tone of Sarah's disillusion.
"It was very awkward. People were talking and trying to hide it, they avoided me. The dispatcher was calling me Whitlock. People wouldn't make eye contact. I felt like a leper."
Lucy exhaled out of her nose. "What did you expect? You show up one day and say, the person you knew is gone, I've replaced him."
Sarah nodded and wiped a tear out of her eye. She understood the context. "I'm still here."
Lucy nodded, it was now or never. "Sarah, I've been looking at houses in Carbondale and crunching numbers. Between my savings, and Shawnee Alliance, I think I can swing it."
Sarah sat frozen, unblinking and Lucy continued.
"I found a place north of town, a good neighborhood. It's a rental now, but the owners might want to sell. I'm moving." She paused and Sarah opened her mouth but no words came out.
"It has three bedrooms." The declaration hung in the air.
Sarah looked out the window. "Is one of them for me?"
"Yes."
Epilogue
They moved in June. They had far more than 12 boxes. It took almost a week to move everything over. Grace and Evan helped, so did Jax, Marlene, Dani, and Samantha. On the weekend Lucy's new friend from work, Chris, helped too.
The house came mostly furnished. Lucy's room had the biggest closet, but Sarah's was close, and had the better view. The third, small bedroom would be perfect for a child.
They managed to sell their house in Mud Creek in a month, though they were disappointed about how little they got for it.
Sarah made some inquiries at SIU and enrolled in a Masters of Fine Arts program that she could do mostly online. In June and July she continued commuting back to Mud Creek to deliver mail. She traded in her Jeep for a Prius. The Jeep felt like it belonged to someone else.
Sarah transferred to a part time clerk job in Carbondale when it opened up in August. It felt good to be in a place where everyone simply knew her as Sarah.
They received their first foster placement in September. A mixed race child named Ty.
Sarah became a regular at PKs Wednesday night trivia and occasionally dropped by for Monday night karaoke. She never followed up with the band. She made every Thursday night group session at the Pride Center.
Her parents in Florida never answered her calls.
Ty went back to his mother in late October. Lucy and Sarah cried for days, then cleaned his room. It still smelled like him. A four year old girl named Amara was placed with them in late November. She liked Sarah immediately, whom she called Mommy Sarah. Many more tears were shed.
On most weekends Sarah drove to St. Louis. Her girlfriend's name was Rachel. She was thirty-eight, and worked as a medical lab technician. She had transitioned six years ago. They met at a geological show of all places. Turns out they were both into pretty rocks. Rachel was patient in a way Sarah had never experienced. She understood that Sarah was still learning how to be loved.
The drive was two hours each way. Sarah didn't mind, it gave her time to sing loud and not worry about bothering Lucy. It reminded her of being back on the mail route.
Lucy and Chris were going to get married, Sarah could feel it. More difficult decisions would need to be made in the future. But she would think about that later. It was a beautiful clear night.
On December 20th, 2026, driving home from St. Louis at 1 AM, Sarah pulled her Prius off at Oak Grove Cemetery on Route 127 and got out. The wind was cold, her dress whipped around and she huddled in her coat. The gravestones spread out in front of her, reflecting the starlight. She walked a short distance towards the single overhead light and the small restroom it illuminated.
Sarah turned to the surrounding gravestones. "Anybody got a problem if I use the ladies' room?" she giggled and went in.
Afterwards she walked the gravel path, illuminated by her cell phone light, and searched for a spot she hadn't been to in years.
Eventually she found the large stone that marked two graves.
Charles Whitlock. Born 1934. Died 1993. Marsha Whitlock. Born 1936. Died 2002.
Sarah barely remembered her grandpa, but she remembered that he always brought her a roll of bicentennial quarters when he visited. Her grandmother had kept visiting well after her husband passed. She always took Sarah for ice cream.
"Hey, guys, it's been a while. Sorry," Sarah said. She ran her hand over the smooth stone. "Grandma, when you took me for ice cream that time, do you remember? You said I had your eyes. I was pretty concerned about that. I was all like, 'But you're a girl.'" Sarah let out a soft laugh. "How could I have your eyes?"
"You said it didn't matter. My eyes were pretty, like a girl's. Do you remember that?" Sarah felt salty tears and looked away.
"You were always so beautiful." Sarah took a small, half-used bottle of red nail polish from her purse and left it on the stone under her grandmother's name.
She turned off her light and walked back in the dark.
In a few days it would be one year from the emergency room. The night she finally accepted what the universe had been trying to tell her for 39 years.
She looked up at the stars and somehow knew that none of this mattered, they were a tiny speck in an infinite universe. She felt her heart beating in her chest and at the same time knew that this was all that truly mattered.
"Thank you," she said to no one in particular, but to everything that ever was and ever will be. "Thank you for this."
She got back in the car and drove home, singing all the way.