The pizza arrives and I knock on Lanie’s door after setting the box on the kitchen counter. “Pizza’s here!” I call. I try to keep my voice cheerful and upbeat as if that’ll fix how they’re feeling at all.

“Put my slices in the fridge,” Lanie mumbles back from the other side. 

I sigh and lean against the door. “I don’t think isolating is gonna help your mood,” I call back to them, “Come on, let’s eat pizza together.”

There’s no response. 

Frustrated, I let my friend be so I can at least eat my slices before they get cold. There’s only so much I can do to help Lanie. At some point they need to help themself. I’m one bite into my first slice when my phone rings with an unknown number lighting up my screen. I let it go to voicemail, thinking it’s just spam. It calls back immediately.

“Jesus,” I grumble to myself. I let it go one more time, hoping if it’s important whoever it is can leave me a message. I never answer unknown numbers.

It calls again. 

“Fine,” I huff, and answer the call. “Hello?” I ask, the annoyance dripping from my voice.

“Bout time you answered,” A man’s voice says on the other end. He sounds vaguely familiar but I can’t place how. 

“I’m sorry?” I ask with a scoff, “Who is this?” The way he began the conversation pisses me off.

“This is Nick, your mother’s boyfriend,” Nick says as if he can’t believe I don’t remember him. I didn’t even get a chance to get his name before I stormed out of our first and last meeting, so how the fuck would I even know that?

A pit forms in my stomach. “You’re still with Grace?” I ask, allowing the venom to be evident in my voice, “Nobody ever lasts this long. It’s been what, half a year?”

“She’s a wonderful woman,” Nick sounds defensive.

I can’t help but laugh. “Sure, so what the hell do you need from me?” I lean against the counter and take another bite of pizza.

“Your mother–”

“Grace,”

“Your mother got hit by a car. She needs around the clock care and I can’t give that to her while I have to go to work. She asked me to call you to come help out.” Nick says, emphasizing ‘mother’ when he speaks. It makes me want to throw up.

“I’m sure she’ll be fine without me,” I say coldly.

“If she dies would you want to have that on your conscience?” Nick asks in a serious tone. 

“She might die?” I ask, my blood running cold.

“If she doesn’t have a caretaker, who knows what’ll happen,” Nick says with a sigh, “But I get it. Have a nice life.”

I debate letting him hang up the phone, letting Grace suffer and die like she probably deserves to. But does she deserve it? She’s a shit mother and never cared to learn about me as my true self but does that mean she deserves to suffer and possibly die?

I stand up straight, sighing wearily and rubbing at the bridge of my nose. “Wait– I’ll head over. It’ll be about an hour.”

“Perfect. I’ll tell your mother.”

“Grace,” I hiss, but he’s already hung up. “Shit.” I toss the partially eaten pizza slice back in the box, my appetite now non-existent, and put the box in the fridge. “Lanie,” I call, approaching Lanie’s door, “I have to go take care of Grace.”

This has Lanie opening their door. They’re frowning harder than they already were. If they frown any deeper than this the corners of their mouth would be on the floor. “Why?” She asks. Her voice is monotone.

 “She got hit by a car apparently,” I say, stress evident in my voice.

“How long will you be gone?” Lanie asks, tilting their head just the slightest bit. 

I sigh and throw my hands up in the air. “I don’t know, Lanie, she’s bed bound and needs someone to help because her stupid boyfriend has to work.”

“Don’t you have to work?” Lanie asks, confusion seeping through the monotone depression they’re currently enduring. 

Shit. I didn’t think about that. I’ll have to cancel my appointments at least for the next week. I groan and explain this to Lanie. Their eyebrows crease in the faintest hint of worry and sympathy, which is more than I expected. I love Lanie, but I often don’t get back the same amount of concern and care from them that I put into our friendship. 

“Take care of yourself…” Lanie says cautiously.

“Thanks,” I say, already exhausted just by the thought of dealing with Grace. Lanie nods and closes their door again. 

I mentally prepare myself to deal with both Grace and Nick, who seems just as awful, over the phone at least, as my mother is. Before I can even knock on the door, the man I met who I now know as Nick opens it and gives me a look. “Chance,” He says, trying and failing at hiding the disdain in his voice. Nick looks about twenty years older than me, around Grace’s age for once, and has his hair buzzed super short. He’s super thin and looks like I could break him like a twig if I wanted to. He’s also shorter than me by a few inches.

It feels like a gut punch every time I’m called my dead name. “Nicole,” I spit back, changing his name to a girl’s name, and I see his jaw tense. 

“Your mother is in bed. She’ll be happy to see you,” He says flatly. “I have to go to work.”

“What do you even do to be out so late?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.

“I’m a nurse,” Nick shoots back.

“Can’t you just take care of Grace, then? I had to cancel all my appointments to be here,” I snap, “This better not keep me too long.”

Nick shrugs and shoves past me out of the house. 

“Grace?” I call, walking through the house I grew up in. There are a couple photos of me on the wall but they’re all pre-transition. The house reeks of cigarettes, which is fine because that means I can smoke in here without anyone giving too much of a shit. That’s good because I’ll need it to make it through this alive. I must’ve quit smoking a million times by now since I start back up every fucking time I have to deal with Grace for more than a day or two.

There’s no answer which has me praying she may have died in the short time it took for Nick to talk down to me and then leave the house. I hold my breath as I turn the corner to her room and my stomach flops over upon seeing her awake in bed. She turns her head to look at me and smiles weakly. “Lola,” She says, her voice quiet.

I come to a halt and narrow my eyes. “Did the car that hit you damage your brain too?” I ask, suspicious. She’s never called me Lola before.

Grace looks hurt. “I almost died,” She says weakly, not answering my question. “Come here.”

I make a noise of discomfort and approach my bedridden mother. “I see you can at least turn your head…” I say, suspicious of whether she’s being truthful about any of this.

“The doctor says I injured my thoracic nerves,” Grace says, “I can move my head and arms but not my legs or even my torso very well. Will you help me sit up?” She reaches for me with a shaky arm.

“Is that a good idea?” I ask, uneasy about this whole situation. I sit at the edge of Grace’s bed, which she seems to like because she gives me a warm smile. “I’m not medically trained. It would’ve been better to have Nick take care of you or to hire a nurse.”

“I just wanted my daughter,” Grace says, with what seems like genuine affection in her voice.

“What?” I ask, my voice small. I’m so confused. Did her near-death experience suddenly make my mother not a shitty person anymore?

Grace reaches out and touches my hand. I jerk it away on instinct and look at her with wide, tearing up eyes. “I said I just wanted my daughter.” 

I wipe my eyes. “Why the change of heart, Grace?” I ask, voice wobbly. “Like why is your boyfriend still deadnaming me if you’ve changed your mind about me?”

She looks like she didn’t know he was doing that. “I’ll talk to him,” She says firmly, “Tell him to quit it.”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted from you,” I say as I fully start crying. “Thank you.”