Page 73 of In Her Own Way
Juicy_Babe:You first support a transgender person by believing them. If they say they’re a guy, then, guess what? They’re a guy. You can also support them by using proper pronouns. Make an effort. Don’t make a big deal if you mess up. Just do better next time.
Juicy_Babe:Your gender identity may or may not agree with your biological sex.
Juicy_Babe:Gender is on a scale. There’s such a wide range. Think about height. Tall or short? That’s not really a binary thing, is it? So maybe gender isn’t binary either. Not just male or female, but everything in between.
Satisfied that she got some burning thoughts out, she headed home, excited about a certain evening phone call.
Chapter 19
Victoria
Things were looking up for Victoria. It had been a week and a half since her first voice-to-voice phone call with JB, and she found herself looking forward to those calls every single night. Understandably, Juicy_Babe didn’t share many personal details about her life, and Victoria neither pried nor offered much information about herself. Meeting people online could be dangerous.
Speaking of Denton Heights, Rowena was over the moon that Victoria might go to the winter masquerade ball. In a recent phone call, Victoria emphasized the wordmightseveral times, but Rowena didn’t seem to hear. She offered the room in her home where Victoria often crashed after parties, the room that currently held a bunch of her shit that she had to figure out what to do with. She wasn’t staying in Indy much longer, that was for sure.
Knowing she had to make a change, she got brave and called that BDSM-friendly therapist in Denton Heights, the one Madison and Shanice went to. Thankfully, Dr. Sumner was set up for online Zoom meetings, and Victoria had already had two really good sessions with her so far. Of course, she’d gone right for the mommy-abandonment issues. But Victoria had been theone to bring it up, after all. And for that, she had Juicy_Babe to thank for nudging her in that train of thought.
Also in the vein of making a change, Victoria signed up to help Tillman at the Linen Works job. She wasn’t going to be on the permanent crew or anything, just a hired laborer for that one store setup in Springfield. Tillman said if Victoria wanted to do the work on a more regular basis, that would mean applying and then interviewing with someone at corporate.
Victoria rode as a passenger in Tillman’s car as they drove the four hours or so to Springfield, Illinois, that morning. It was now late afternoon, and the two of them, along with about eight other crew members, labored to install shelving units, racks, standalone bins, and displays for the new store.
Victoria was assigned to shadow Tillman on the multi-day job, which ended on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. Victoria was impressed with Tillman. He was a confident and capable leader. It was obvious this particular crew had worked together before and knew the drill.
Their ten-hour day had two more hours left, and then they’d find takeout and head to a local motel for the night.
Victoria held up the side panel for the next shelving unit as Tillman used an impact driver to fasten it to the base.
“I haven’t done this much physical labor since the army,” Victoria said.
Tillman laughed. “How are you holding up?”
“Fine, actually,” Victoria said, hustling to get the back panel in place. “But I know I’ll be sore tomorrow.”
Tillman motioned toward the retired couple working on the standalone bins. “They will be, too. You know they live out of that RV in the parking lot. They travel to the Linen Works jobs and also do seasonal work at Christmas and throughout the year.”
“No fucking way,” Victoria said wide-eyed. The couple had to be in their late fifties. “A nomadic life. Maybe that’s for me.”
“Nah,” Tillman said as he worked his way around fastening the back panel. “That’s for retirement. Right now, I want to be settled. A house. Wife. Kids, maybe.” He finished fastening the panel and sat back on his heels. “Vic, I want to be a husband, you know? With a family and backyard barbecues?” His sigh was so long and deep that Victoria’s heart went out to him.
“Break?”
“Yeah,” Tillman said and grabbed two seltzer waters from the cooler.
They headed to a windowless back room that looked like a break room or something and sat on the floor.
“I called corporate,” Tillman said. “Their health insurance won’t cover top surgery or hormone therapy. It doesn’t cover any kind of gender-affirming care at all. Not even therapists.”
“That sucks,” Victoria said. She hadn’t thought about the cost of transitioning. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.” Tillman looked up. He seemed utterly defeated. “I don’t want to end up taking that street T garbage. I want the real testosterone, prescribed by a doctor, with the proper dosing and a goddamned plan. Fuck! I need the world to give me a break, man. I got dealt some weird cards.”
Victoria chuckled in solidarity.
“I may have to find another job,” Tillman said. “But where? I guess I’ll just have to win the lottery.”
“You and me both.”
“So, what are you going to do post-tase?” It was a clear change in subject, and that was okay.
