#fox cornell

Fox watched his sister as she joined a young, blond man on the beach, well boy. He didn’t look much more than eighteen or twenty. He wasn’t close enough to hear what they were saying but whatever it was had made the boy nervous. Fox had to move to keep from being seen when they moved towards him. 

He strained to see what the boy had tried to throw away and Stella had stopped him. Now he had another mystery to figure out. Who was the boy and what had he caught Stella doing?

Of course he could confront his sister; however she’d accuse him of being overprotective and nosey. She’d be right too, after all he had followed her here just because she missed their family movie night two weeks in a row and refused to say why or where she was going.

Has she gotten a new boyfriend? Glancing at the couple talking, Fox frowned, the boy didn’t look like someone Stella would be interested in but then again she had been with her ex fiance since they had been kids. What did he know of her likes and dislikes?

Leaning against the post, he was tempted to just walk away and give Stella her privacy. But he couldn’t, at least not until he knew who the boy was. It was his duty as the older brother to watch out for his little sister. Someone had to make sure she didn’t get hurt.

His eyes wandered to the shoreline, the lake was calm and the first stars seemed to be shimmering on the surface of the water. Beautiful. A perfect setting for a date. 

His thoughts went to Rose, the new volunteer at the shelter. He didn’t expect her to come back. She wasn’t the typical volunteer. Most spoiled rich kids only came to the shelter as part of their mandatory community service. Not Rose. She came because… he felt his cheeks flush with heat. Was it too much to hope she came because of him?

Shaking his head he brought his mind back to the present. It didn’t matter why she was there. Rose was a spoiled naive young woman who didn’t know anything of the hardships of the world. Much like his sister. 

His eyes followed his sister as she strode swiftly away carrying what he could only describe as a sketchbook. The boy she’d been talking to was watching her as well like a love sick puppy. 

Stepping around the post, Fox decided now was as good as any other to confront the boy. 

“I want to talk to you,” Fox said, coming up behind the boy.

The boy jumped letting out a small gasp that was almost a squeak. He turned wide startled eyes “who who are yyyou,” he stammered.

Jerking his chin the direction that Stella had gone in, “I’m Fox, Stella’s brother. Her older brother,” he said, crossing his arms in front of him. 

“Oh,” the boy’s eyes almost bulged out of their sockets.

Flexing his muscles Fox asked “now that you know who I am, why don’t you tell me who you are?”

“Me,” he squeaked.

“Yeah you,” Fox smirked like a cat playing with his prey.

“Orororion,” he stammered, swallowing hard.

Casually he leaned against a post silently observing the boy. “How long have you been seeing my sister?”

Orion frowned “I…I … .only wanted to sketch her.”

“Like an artist?” Even to Fox’s ears it sounded like a stupid question. It was only slightly better than the first words that came to mind. A line from the Titanic “draw me like one of your French girls.”

Shaking his head, Orion sighed “I’m not that good.”

“So you’re not like seeing each other?” Fox asked.

Orion seemed to be mesmerized by Fox’s flexing hands as it took him a moment to respond. “What?” 

“Dating? Are you dating?” Fox demanded.

“Nnno,” Orion shook his head.

“Good,” Fox said, pushing away from the post ‘keep it that way.”

“What,” Orion said, looking confused. 

“My sister is in a fragile state right now,” Fox explained moving in close. “I wouldn’t want to see her be hurt anymore than she already has.” 

Gulping Orion took a step back. “I um,” he looked around as if he wanted to run but didn’t know which way to go.

Putting an arm across Orion’s shoulders, Fox continues “look you seem like a nice guy but I have to look out for my sister. You know how little sisters are, right?”

Orion stares at the hand laying heavy on his shoulder like it was a python instead of hand. “No,” he shakes his head “I..I don’t have any siblings.”

“Then you don’t know how it is,” Fox sounded a little disappointed. Squeezing Orions shoulder, he continued “as an older brother it’s my duty to look out for her even when she doesn’t want me to. And she wouldn’t want me doing this.” 

Orion nodded, barely able to breathe “I..I won’t ssseee her again.”

“That’s all I wanted to hear,” Fox said, giving Orion’s shoulder one last squeeze before stepping back. 

As Fox walked away Orion shivered from more than the cool breeze off the lake. What was he going to do now?

Rose hummed to herself as she pulled items from her closet. She hadn’t planned on organizing her closet today but she needed to make room for the new items she purchased the day before. Then the minister’s sermon about the good samaritan prompted her to see if there was anything she could donate to the shelter. Of course the boy she met at the church came to mind and she had to admit her sudden interest in charity and church was partly due to her hopes of seeing him again.

“Knock knock,” someone said behind her.

“Oh hi Dad,” she turned, smiling at him.

“Did you buy that much,” Kade asked, teasing his daughter a little.

“You know me,” she said “I like to shop.”

“I hope your father’s credit card can handle it,” Kade said. “Did Brooks get anything?”

“A few things,” she shrugged.

“I suppose mostly baggy pants and t-shirts,” Kade said.

“You know Brooks, he likes what he likes,” she said.

Kade got a faraway look in his eyes “I remember when you were both little how you’d dress alike.” 

“Daddy, Brooks isn’t doing this to hurt you,” she said, coming over to him.

“I know,” he acknowledged softly. “Brooks never liked it when we put her, I mean him, in a dress.” Swiping a hand across his eyes “I just don’t understand where we went wrong.”

“Daddy you didn’t do anything wrong,” Rose said, giving him a hug. 

“Maybe I need therapy,” he said, hugging her back.

“It couldn’t hurt,” she quipped.

“I suppose not,” Kade said “I’d like to understand what she’s, I mean he’s going through.”

“Then I think you should,” she encouraged.

“So what are you going to do with all this stuff,” he asked.

“I’m going to donate it to the shelter,” she said. 

Rubbing his chin “good idea. I think I’ll see if there’s anything your father and I could donate too.”

“Great,” she said moving back to her closet “there’s plenty of old guys who need clothes too.”

“Thanks a lot,” he chuckled.

“You know what I mean,” she called after him as he left her room.

Rose entered the shelter, her nose wrinkled at the scent of unwashed bodies assaulting her senses. Perhaps she should have brought along basic hygiene products too. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought about before, she’d always had everything she ever needed. 

“Excuse me,” she said, approaching one of the servers as they replaced one of the tubs of food.

“You’re late,” the worker said, handing her the empty tub. 

“What am I supposed to do with this,” she demanded but the worker wasn’t listening as they started serving the people in line.

Looking around, Rose wondered where she was supposed to put it. There were tables where people were sitting and eating. But she decided against that, she couldn’t put it on the counter as there wasn’t space. She walked through the swinging doors into the kitchen. 

“Where do I…” her voice ground to a halt when Fox came into the kitchen from the back. 

“Don’t just stand there,” someone yelled at her. 

Jumping she bumped into a shelf sending a container of mustard to the floor.

“What’s the matter with you,” the same grumpy voice demanded. “Get a mop and clean that up.”

Rose clutched the dirty pan to her chest, her mouth flopping unable to form a coherent thought to save her life. 

“Give her a break,” Fox said, coming to a stop beside her “I don’t think she belongs back here.” 

“I um,” she looked at the floor “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Fox said, “it’s just mustard.”

Nodding Rose looked up, her heart kerplunking in her chest. “I wanted to donate some clothes to the shelter and I…” She held up the pan “someone gave me this and I don’t know..” She shrugged wishing she could just disappear. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s a bit chaotic during lunch,” Fox explained, taking the pan from her and leading the way to the sink where similar pans waited cleaning. He grabbed an apron “but if you wanted to help we could do with a dishwasher.”

She took the apron from his hands “I … um …” looking at the mountain of dishes she swallowed. “I guess I could load the dishwasher.”

Fox’s laughter filled the room and several of the workers turned to look at them. “You are the dishwasher.” Grinning he asked “you do know how to wash dishes?”

“Yeah sure,” she sounded doubtful as she began to tie the apron around her waist.

Shaking his head, Fox said “it’s ok. I was only teasing. You don’t have to do the dishes.”

“No,” Rose said firmly, “I want to help.”

Rose is motivated to donate to the local homeless shelter but are her motives for the right reasons? Or is she only doing it to see the boy she ran into at the church again? Find out in the next chapter of The Art of Being Yourself that's available on my WP Blog if you want to read it now. Otherwise it'll be added to the queue and posted later.

Rose swept through the doors of the by now familiar homeless shelter. A few of the usual visitors waved at her but the workers setting up for the dinner rush ignored her or grunted when she said hi as she passed them. “What’s wrong with everyone?” she muttered as she stepped into the kitchen. 

“Where were you?” A cold but familiar voice demanded.

Turning towards the sink she giggled “I knew you wouldn’t like having to wash dishes anymore than me.”

“Where the hell were you? You knew we were short two people today and you promised you’d be here.”

“Excuse me for having a life,” she snapped, taking a step backwards.

He rinsed down the sink area before wiping his hands dry on the front of his jeans. “I should have known better than to rely on a spoiled little princess to keep her promise.”

“I wish people would stop calling me a spoiled little princess,” she whined “I have problems too.”

“Yeah right,” Fox rolled his eyes moving towards the counter to start on prep work for the dinner rush. 

“I do,” she stomped her foot. “My parents told me I had to get a job. Can you imagine…”

Fox let out a loud guffaw causing several volunteers to turn and stare. “That’s your problem? You have to get a job!.”

“Well yeah,” she said, unsure why he was looking at her in such confusion. “I know that doesn’t sound like much to you since all  you do is volunteer but I’m in the middle of planning my parent’s anniversary party. Where they think I’m going to find the time to find a job and do that I have no idea.”

“You think all I do is volunteer,” Fox’s voice was low and gruff.

“Well,” she shrugged, “you’re always here. I just assumed…” The angry glint in his usually amused eyes had her regretting all the assumptions she had made about him. 

“I’ll have you know I work a full time job besides volunteering my time here,” he said “most of the volunteers here do. We’re not all made of money. We have to work in order to pay the bills.”

“But you’re parents…” she didn’t finish her sentence. 

“What about my parents,” he demanded. 

Taking a deep breath she said “well everyone knows they have money. Why do you have to work?”

“Because it’s their money not mine,” he said.

Her mouth dropped open “but you’re their son. What’s theirs is yours.”

“So according to you it’s alright to take advantage of them,” he turned back to chopping the carrots.

“You’re twisting my words,” she cried “I just don’t see why you would need to work when they have enough money that you don’t have to.”

“I like being independent,” he said. 

“I’m independent,” she said bristling at what felt like an insult.

“Sure, until you need your next hand out,” he said, moving past her to grab more carrots to chop. “Look, I’m a little busy to talk right now. So if you’re not here to help you should probably leave.”

This was so not what she expected. She had thought Fox would understand. Would offer to help her plan her parent’s party. What was she supposed to do now?

“What did you do?” Rose demanded as soon as Brooks entered the house.

Brooks raised a hand, running his fingers through the shorter locks on his head. “Atlas said it looked good.”

“He would,” Rose snorted, putting her hands on her hips. 

“What’s wrong with it?” Brooks said, moving towards the hall mirror. 

Rolling her eyes, Rose huffed “it makes you look like such a boy.”

Brooks froze, torn by his sister’s careless words. A part of him was happy that his appearance was starting to match how he felt on the inside. But another part of him withered inside “you never really accepted me.” he said as he turned from the mirror “you never really believed me when I told you how I felt locked inside the wrong body.”

“Of course I did,” Rose said “I’ve always supported you.”

“I wonder,” Brooks sighed more to himself than to his sister.

“You should take it as a compliment,” Rose said as if she could erase the hurt she caused by saying it was something it wasn’t.

“Why are you here?” Brooks asked, wanting desperately to change the subject.

“I need your help in planning our parents’ 25th anniversary,” Rose said as if she hadn’t just crushed her brother’s heart. 

“Since when do they want a party?” Brooks demanded.

“Twenty five years is a long time,” Rose persisted. “So I thought since they never had a formal wedding that it’d be fun if we all dressed up. You and I could wear matching dresses like we did when we were little….”

“No,” Brooks interrupted her before she could elaborate further.

“No what,” Rose asked, blinking at her in surprise.

“I’m not wearing a formal dress,” Brooks said.

“What’s the big deal,” Rose demanded, “it’s just for a few hours.”

Shaking his head Brooks turned away from her. “I’m not wearing a dress, formal or otherwise.”

“Why are you being so selfish?” Rose grabbed Brooks arm before he could slip from the room “it’s for our parent’s anniversary. We always dressed the same when we were little. It’s for them.”

Brooks glared at his sister “fine I’m the selfish one. Now get out of my room.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Rose demanded “you were never like this until you started seeing that guy, what’s his name, Atlas. I bet he’s been filling your head with a bunch of nonsense.”

“He has nothing to do with this,” Brooks jerked his arm free. “I am capable of making my own decisions.”

“Just think about it,” Rose pleaded. 

“I said no,” Brooks shouted as he stomped across his room to where his backpack lay next to his bed. 

“We’re not done discussing this yet,” Rose said, blocking his path.

“I have class,” Brooks glares at his sister and she moves out of his way.

“This isn’t over,” Rose called after him.

“It is as long as you think I’m going to wear a dress,” Brooks said as he swept past her. 

Rose stared after her brother wondering how things had gone so wrong.

Returning home Fox wondered what, if anything, he should say to his sister. He doubted Brad would say anything to her. He probably didn’t think he did anything wrong.

“You’re late,” his dad called from the kitchen.

“I’ll be right down,” he called while running up the stairs. Stopping in front of his sister’s bedroom door he took a moment to catch his breath even though he was barely breathing hard. 

Stella spun around in front of her mirror imagining the way her wedding dress would swirl as she danced in her frog prince’s arms. “Come in,” she called in response to the soft knock on her door. 

“Do you have a moment?” Fox asked, sticking his head inside her room.

“What do you want?” she demanded frowning at her older brother. “If you’re here about the tuxedo the complaint department is closed.”

Fox chuckled a little, shaking his head. “It has nothing to do with the tux; although my complaints are valid.”

“Suck it up buttercup,” she said, turning away from him to close her closet door. 

He made a face “ugh Stel you know that tux cost more than it’s worth.”

Putting her hands on her hips “I thought you weren’t here to complain?”

Making hand dampening motions “I’m not.”

“Good,” she said, flopping on her bed. 

“Um,” Fox shuffled in place, shoving his hands in his pockets, he studied the floor at his feet. Looking up he found his sister staring at him.

“You’re making me nervous,” she said. She gave him an appraising look “did you meet someone? You did, didn’t you?”

“What! No,” he denied, unable to meet her gaze.

“You so did,” she bounced on the bed. “What’s she like? Is she pretty? Smart? Do I know her?”

His face was a mixture of exasperation, confusion and dreamy expectation as her questions bombarded him. “Look I didn’t come up here to talk about me.”

“Oh?” her eyes glittering with amusement “then why did you?”

“Are you sure you want to get married? To Brad, I mean.” 

“Of course I do,” she leaned back a dreamy look on her face “I’ve always known I was going to marry him.”

“Why?” the single word coming out more like an angry bark.

Cocking her head to the side “what’s all this about?”

“I um…” his words faltered, “I saw Brad with some girl at the bar.”

Shaking her head “no you’re wrong. He said he was going straight home to help his mom in the garden.”

Fox shrugged “I spoke to him…”

“You’re lying,” she cried “I knew you never liked him but to this…” Grabbing a pillow she threw it at him “get out.”

“Stel listen to me,” he pleaded.

“No,” she ran at him, pushing him towards the door “get out.”

He let her push him. Watched as she slammed her door in his face. Helpless fury poured through him. “Hey don’t shoot the messenger just because you don’t like what you hear,” he shouted.

“Go away,” she shouted back from the otherside of the door. “I hate you.”

“What’s all the shouting about?” Damian demanded coming from his bedroom.

Fox jerked his head towards his father, “sorry,” he mumbled.

Damian gave him an understanding smile. “I know your sister is being a bit of a bridezilla right now but you know she loves you, right?”

Scratching his head Fox looked over his shoulder at his sister’s close door. “It has nothing to do with that.”

Frowning Damian leaned against his door, crossing his arms “then what happened?”

Fox sighed, “maybe I should have kept my mouth shut.”

“Depends on what it is you said,” Damian said. “Was it something she needed to know?”

“Oh yeah,” Fox said empathetically. 

“She’ll get over it,” Damian said.

Looking over his shoulder Fox shook his head “what if she doesn’t?”

Frowning Damian straightened “son I think you need to tell me what happened.”

“I saw Brad making out with a girl,” Fox blurted.

“Oh,” understanding made the simple utterance hang in the air between them. 

“She doesn’t believe me,” Fox said, pushing the words out as his chest tightened. “I thought she needed to know. Now she hates me.”

Before he knew what was happening Fox found himself enveloped in his father’s arms. 

“You did the right thing,” Damian assured him. 

“But she hates me,” Fox said wondering why those words hurt so much when she’d said the very same thing to him in the past.

“She doesn’t,” Damian said, giving him a squeeze before releasing him. “You know how she is. I’ll talk to her.”

“I don’t know,” Fox said, glancing back at his sister’s door “I think this time is different.”

“Supper’s ready so you better go down so your dad doesn’t worry,” Damian said turning towards his daughter’s room “and I’ll talk to your sister.”

“You know he’s going to worry anyway,” Fox said as he started to walk away.

Damian nodded, “just tell him I’ll explain everything later.” As Fox walked away, Damian knocked softly “Stella it’s your dad. Can I come in?”

“Leave me alone,” she cried from somewhere inside.

“Stella, we need to talk about Brad. The wedding.” Damian waited outside, trying the door handle only to find it locked. 

“You never liked Brad,” she shouted back.

Damian let out a heavy sigh. “Let me in so we can talk.”

“Go away,” she said.

Short of breaking down the door Damian knew they weren’t going to be talking anytime soon. “Honey, when you’re ready to talk I’ll be here.” He waited a few more minutes hoping to hear the click of the lock signaling he could go in. Running his fingers through his hair he knew how stubborn his daughter could be and if she made up her mind she didn’t want to talk, nothing was going to change her mind. 

Defeated, he joined the rest of his family in the dining room. 

Fox looked up, “did you talk to her?”

Shaking his head he sat down “I’ll try later.”

“Maybe I should,” Fox got half way up from his chair.

“No,” Jason said “we’ll wait until she’s ready.” He glanced at his husband and son. “You know nothing we say now is going to help, not unless she’s ready to talk to us.”

“You’re right,” Damian agreed, leaning over and pressing a kiss to his husband’s cheek.

Orion scrambled to his feet, scattering his pencils and sketches around his feet. “Stella,” he breathed her name as if it were something sacred. She didn’t seem to see or hear him so he tried again. “Stel…la,” this time she looked up. 

He couldn’t read her expression. Was she mad? Glad? Surprised? Revolted?

Scratching his chin he half wished he had kept quiet. “I..I..I,” stammered his tongue growing to three times its size “sssorry.” Shoving his hands into his pockets, he tried to shrink and disappear.

As Orion turned slowly away, Stella seemed to wake up from her trance. “Is that it?” she cried “you disappear for weeks and all you can say is, you’re sorry.”

He turned to face her. His heavenly vision was glaring at him as if he were a condemned man sentenced to hell. “I … I … I thththought … that’s …. Wwwhat ….you you …. Wwwwanted.” He stammered the words out.

Her jaw dropped as she took in his words. “What gave you that idea?”

A crease formed between Orion’s eyes “diddiddin’t your brother tell you?”

“Tell me what,” she demanded as she crossed her arms in front of her.

Orion gulped at her commanding presence. “He … he … told me to leave yyyou alone.”

“He what,” she cried, her eyes seeming to smolder with an inner fire.

Without thinking Orion glanced at his sketch pad itching to capture phoenix as it rose. 

Following his gaze, Stella’s eyes focused on the half open sketch pad. “Is that me?” she asked, her voice losing some of its venom.

Moaning Orion reached for the offending sketch but it slipped from his fingers just as they made contact. Swallowing hard he nodded.

Stella stared at herself, a soft smile crinkling the corners of her eyes “its beautiful.”

“I … “ he swallowed hard, forcing the words out “I’m sorry.”

Looking up, confusion clouding her eyes “for what?”

“My … my …” he stared at his feet unable to see the disappointment in her eyes “promise….”

“Oh,” she murmured, “that’s alright.”

Blinking as her words seeped into his beleaguered brain. “You’re not mad?”

“Oh I’m mad,” she declared, clutching the sketch to her chest. Either his yelp or downcast face registered, she added “just not at you.”

Her words did little to reassure Orion “okay,” he mumbled as he dropped to his knees and started to cram his things into satchel.

“Here,” she dropped down beside him, “let me help.” Her hands softly reached out to his stalling him “I really liked the sketch. Can I have it?”

“Really?” 

Nodding, Stella smiled “I love it. I look at the other drawings all the time but this one is my favorite.”

“But I broke my promise,” his stammering wasn’t quite as pronounced now.

“I’m glad you did,” she said.

“Uh,” he stared at her like he didn’t understand what she said.

“I love the way you draw me,” she said, her cheeks turning a slight pink. “I mean,” she pressed her lips together as she seemed to gather her courage “will you go out with me?”

Orion’s mouth dropped “on a date?”

“Yes,” she let out a pent up laugh, “a date. Dinner at the diner tomorrow at six.”

“Alright,” Orion grinned after her as she walked away carrying his sketch pad with her. He’d have to get another one but that didn’t matter. He had a date. A date. The kid voted most likely to be a virgin for life. 

By the time Stella made it home she had worked herself up to a full head of steam. “Fox,” she yelled as soon as she stepped inside the house, the door slamming behind her. 

Her parents looked up from their spots on the sofa. “What’s wrong?” they asked together.

Ignoring their question she demanded “is he home?”

“He’s getting ready to go to the shelter,” her father said.

“Well he’s going to be late,” she snapped, stomping up the stairs. 

A moment later they heard their son’s bedroom door open and bang shot.

“Fox who the hell gave you the right to interfere in my life,” she demanded.

Shrugging into his shirt Fox glared at her. “Don’t you know how to knock?”

“I’ll knock when you respect my privacy,” she shouted.

“What do you call barging into my room without knocking,” he made frustrated hand motions towards the door. “What if I didn’t have any clothes on?”

“Do I look like I care?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“I don’t have time for this,” he tried to step around her, “I’m going to be late.”

Barricading the door with her body she said “you’re not going to go anywhere until you tell me what you said to Orion.”

“Who?” he asked, giving her a blank look.

“So you just go around threatening people on the beach you don’t know,” she said.

Her accusatory tone and words grated on his nerves. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, trying once more to get around her. “I really have to go. Can’t we talk about this later?”

“No we can’t talk about it later,” she said, deflecting his attempts to get around her. “Orion is a really sweet guy. Why did you tell him to leave me alone?”

“You mean the artist?” he asked, taking a step back. “You really like him.”

“Why is that so hard to believe?”

Fox ran a hand through his hair. “You never mentioned him before and when I saw you talking on the beach it looked like you wanted him to leave you alone.” He shrugged not knowing what else to say.

“So you thought it was your brotherly duty to warn him  off,” she said.

“Someone has to look out for you,” he said.

“I can look out for myself,” she said, her chin jutting out giving her a determined look.

“I’m sorry,” Fox sighed. “would it help if I apologize?”

“No,” she cried, “at least not yet. Wait until we get to know each other.”

“So I must not have done a very good job of scaring him off,” Fox grinned at her.

“Lucky for you,” she said, not yet willing to let him off the hook. “Just wait until you meet someone.”

“Not likely,” he murmured.

“You will,” she insisted “if you ever stop spending all your time volunteering and working.”

“I do more than that,” he said

“Spying on me doesn’t count,” she said “now go before you’re late.” She stepped aside to let him pass.

He stopped beside her “I really am sorry.”

“I know,” she said “but I don’t need you fighting my battles.”

“I know but old habits die hard,” he said “I’ve been fighting your battles since Johnny pushed you in the mud in the first grade.”

“Maybe one day I’ll return the favor,” Stella said as he walked past her.

Fox stopped for a second, a moment of vulnerability in his eyes. “Yeah that’ll be the day.”

She watched him wondering what that look was about. Perhaps it was time for her to do spying on her own.

Will Orion overcome his fear and go back to the beach? Will Stella ever see Orion again? Find out in the new chapter of The Art of Being Yourself. You can read the chapter now on my WP Blog otherwise it'll be posted starting tomorrow.

Coming into the church had been a mistake. Rose didn’t understand the instinct that brought her to the front of the church much less the prone position she found herself in. It was like some bad Christmas romcom except she was damsel in distress. 

Swiping a hand across her face she heaved a sigh that seemed to echo off the walls of the empty church. It’d been months since she’d last been here with her family. They had come Easter Sunday. The entire family had come, sitting towards the back because Brooks had thrown one of her tantrums. His tantrums. 

Shaking her head at her mistake. She was never going to get used to the change. It should be easy except that it wasn’t. Changing pronouns after eighteen years is a lot to ask of someone and she was trying even though she was still making mistakes. Mistakes she knew hurt her sister rather her brother.

How was she supposed to help explain this to their parents when she didn’t understand it herself? Hating to admit it, even to herself, Rose knew it was because she didn’t want to accept it. Ever since Brook was a baby their parents dressed them in identical outfits for holidays and special occasions. Rose had spent the entire Easter holiday trying to convince Brooks she … he needed to play his part. Not to rock the boat. And Brooks had been miserable. 

Now here she was inside a church hoping to get an answer to her dilemma. You’d think it’d be an easy decision. Support her sis…her brother and risk disappointing their parents or supporting her parents and alienating her brother. Why couldn’t Brooks have just left well enough alone? Brooks just had to tell their parents she was a boy trapped inside a girl’s body.

Intellectually  Rose understood there was more to it than that. How many times had Brooks confided in her on how uncomfortable she was in her own body. Rose knew she was part of the reason why it had taken Brooks so long to tell their parents. But why couldn’t she have waited until right before they left for university?

That’s the real reason she was here. She couldn’t stand it at home anymore. Not the tears. Not the gloom and doom that seemed to fill the house. Her entire summer was ruined all because Brooks had to tell them how she felt. 

“Hey,” a deep concerned voice said “are you alright?”

“What? Who?” she jerked her head up to find a young man with a colorful mop of unruly hair staring down at her. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine to me,” he said “do you want to talk about it? I could get the minister, he’s in his office.”

“No,” she sniffled “but if you have any tissues that would be great.”

Grinning, he held out a box “I thought you might need them.”

“Thank you,” she said, pulling several tissues out. 

“Are you sure you’re alright,” he asked again.

“Positive,” she said, dabbing at her eyes hoping her face wasn’t a smeared mess.

“If you say so,” he said, setting the tissue box on an empty pew. “I’m Fox Cornell, I volunteer at the shelter.”

“Oh,” she smiled up at him, “so that’s why you’re here.”

“Yep,” he nodded “most weekends, except next weekend. My sister’s getting married.”

“Congratulations,” she murmured as a funny ache filled her heart. Would Brooks be her maid of honor or a best man? Would they even want to be in her wedding? Why did she have to ruin everything by coming out? 

Checking his phone he said “well if you’re sure you’re alright I should be going.” He started to turn away when she touched his hand.

“I … um …. Appreciate your concern,” she smiled up at him “I’m Rose Mueller.”

“It’s nice to meet you Rose,” he smiled, fiddling with his phone. “I have to go. My sister’s sending me impatient texts because I’m already late for my tux fitting.”

“Then you better go,” she said “I know where to find you if I ever need a tissue.” 

“Yeah right,” he chuckled as he hurried from the church.

“That was lame,” she muttered to herself once she was alone. 

The tux fittings took longer than Fox expected they would take. Maybe if Stella wasn’t so picky it would have taken half the time. Sometimes he wondered what Brad saw in her. He sure wouldn’t marry her if he had a choice. 

He’d like to get married someday if he ever found the right person. 

Maybe it was the girl from the church…what’s her name? She was pretty as a rose. 

Snapping his fingers he grinned rose, that’s her name, Rose. Would he ever see her again? Maybe he could ask one of the cooks in the soup kitchen if they knew her but as soon as he thought of it he nixed it. That was the surest way of starting up gossip and he hated gossip; especially about himself. 

Regretting that he hadn’t gotten Rose’s number when he had the chance he drove into the parking lot of a bar. He seldom drank but after spending hours with his sister appraising how he looked in his tux he felt the need for a drink. 

It wasn’t as busy as he thought it’d be for a Saturday night. There were couples dancing to whatever was playing on the jukebox. Fox started to make his way to the bar to place his order when he stopped and turned. One of the dancers seemed familiar and if he hadn’t just spent hours with him he’d never have recognized him without his cowboy hat.

“Brad,” he asked, walking up to the couple who were now lip locked.

Startled Brad pulled away from the woman in his arms. “Fox, what are you doing here?”

Frowning Fox crossed his arms “I could ask you the same thing.”

“It’s not what you think,” he stammered.

“Really,” he said waving a hand towards the woman “that doesn’t look like my sister. You remember her, your fiance.”

“Fiance,” the woman said, her eyes round with shock.

“Wait,” Brad called after her, “I can explain.”

“I certainly hope so,” Fox said, stepping in front of him.

“This doesn’t concern you,” Brad said, trying to walk around him.

“The hell it doesn’t,” Fox said, grabbing his arm “you’re engaged to my sister.”

“Yeah and maybe if your sister was a little more warm I wouldn’t have to look elsewhere,” he said.

“Don’t give me that,” Fox said “you’ve known Stella ever since you were kids. You know what she’s like.”

“Yeah I know,” Brad mumbled as he watched the woman he was dancing with walk out the door. Shrugging off Fox’s hand “you can leave now that you’ve ruined my night.”

Fox shook his head as he watched the man his sister was going to marry in a week’s time walk away as if Fox was the problem. What did his sister see in him?