Christmas came around, and I worked the shop on Christmas Eve just as I said I would. It was one of the biggest days for the last-minute purchase of sweets and treats. It was also the most convenient time for Mrs. Lada to markup all of the prices for desperate people. I could see how she drove the competition out of town.

“Can I please work at the shop for a couple extra hours?” I begged Mrs. Lada as she started closing up shop. “You don’t have to pay me extra! I just want to stay!”

“Honey, I’m not staying here a dozen minutes longer,” she frowned. “It’s Christmas Eve. Go home, to your Mum and Dad.”

“My grandparents are staying with us tonight.”

“Enjoy them while they last,” she warned. “Mine are dead.”

“Mine are clinging to life just to shame my mum and criticize my dad.”

“That’s grandparents for you,” she laughed. “But seriously Adam, go home. A young man like you shouldn’t be working into the depths of the night.”

“Alright…” I mumbled, looking down. Apparently I looked just pathetic enough though, because for once, Mrs. Lada’s face softened.

“Alright, fine, I’m going to trust you a great deal with this…” She disappeared into the backroom and came back out with a thick brass key in hand, holding it out to me. “This is the spare shop key. I’m not going to come in tomorrow, but you can stay for a while longer and close up when you’re done, then run the place tomorrow if you can manage it. There should be enough in the back to last.”

“T-Thank you,” I nodded, taking the key with reverence. “If I may ask, why pass on the opportunity to make money on Christmas? It doesn’t seem like you.”

“My husband and I have plans,” she sighed dreamily. “And I would have to be a fool to open my frigid shop instead of staying home feeling nice and warm.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” I thanked again. Giving me a key to her shop was probably the biggest leap in trust she had ever shown me, or would ever show me.

“Make smart choices, and if you’re going to open tomorrow, don’t let anyone scam or steal from you or you’ll pay for it out of your pocket.”

“Understood,” I gulped nervously.

“Oh, and Adam,” she smiled, looking back at me right before leaving. “Before you go, help yourself to some candy. Just this once, I won’t take it out of your pay.”

“I… Thank you, Mrs. Lada,” I smiled back with a wave. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you and your family too, son,” she waved back before exiting the shop entirely. 

A deep, inaudible sigh seemed to breathe all throughout the building as I hung up my apron, flipped the sign to the closed side, and clicked the lock on the door. Like an invisible observing ghost, I looked out of the frost-trimmed windows into the New York streets, staring at the sight of a mother and father playing with their little daughter in the snow. Again, I felt something tug at my heart, like a yearning and ache for a life I never had.

While thinking about the life I wanted, there was a knock on the glass. The little girl was looking up at me with a set of pleading eyes while her parents took her hand. I could tell just how badly she wanted candy though… Oh what the hell? It’s Christms.

“Excuse me,” I said, opening the door as they turned away. “Did you want to pick out some candy?”

“I’m sorry, but we don’t have any money to spare on sweets right now,” the father apologized. “Our little Carlie can get ahead of herself.”

“If you want to pick something out, it’s on the house,” I offered. “I won’t charge today.”

“Are you sure?” the mother asked.

“It’s Christmas,” I shrugged, holding the door open. “Take a small bag and pick out whatever you want as long as you don’t take too much.”

“Yay!” the little girl cheered, running into the shop and taking a small bag, which she proceeded to start filling up with sweets.

“Bless your soul, young man,” the woman thanked.

“Yes, thank you,” the father nodded. “Are you sure we don’t have to pay?”

“I don’t mind her taking whatever she wants,” I sighed, watching the girl run between glass jars to try and get a little  bit of everything. “Everyone deserves a happy Christmas.”

“We need more men like you in the world,” he said, tipping his hat to me.

“I’m just… trying to be a good person,” I shrugged, looking back at the girl. Part of me hoped she had a good childhood, lived to have a fruitful life, and didn’t have any regrets. I thought it was a tad odd for me to care so much about someone I didn’t know, but everyone deserved to be happy, right? Even a young girl on Christmas Eve…

*   *   *   *   *

“It’s about time you finally joined us, Adam,” Grampy grumbled as soon as I walked through the front door. Oh wow, thanks grandpa. It was a pleasure to see you too.

“Adam was just working late hours at his job, weren’t you, Adam?” Dad asked with gritted teeth. I meekly nodded, seeing as how the room was already charged enough to blow a hole to the center of the Earth.

“Ah yes, late hours working… where did you say he worked again, Matilda?” Grampy asked in that tone. You know the voice. The one people will put on when they know the answer to the question they just asked, but want you to answer it and feel ashamed.

“It’s, um… Rena’s candy shop downtown,” Mum mumbled, running her hands through her hair nervously.

“Ah, a candy store,” Grampy nodded condescendingly. “Your son participates in such hard work, doesn’t he, Mark? Totalling up those countless candies all day must make him exhausted, mustn’t it?”

“It’s honest work, at least,” Mum chimed in. “Any job is better than no job.”

“That’s just something that a housewife wouldn’t get,” Grampy rolled his eyes. “When all you have to do is stay home and take care of the house and children, you don’t have to know the reality that a hard working job is the only one that will get a man respect in this world.”

“No, I suppose I wouldn’t understand, would I?” Mum mumbled coldly.

“You’ll have to excuse me to my room for a moment,” I requested. “I need to um… take a temporary rest after my work.”

“When I was your age, we rested when we slept,” Grampy grumbled. “You carry the same name as my father, but you’re only half the man.”

“You used to tell me stories of how Grandpa Adam used to whip you when you didn’t listen,” Dad frowned.

“And he made me the strong man I am today. Maybe if your son had some of that discipline, he wouldn’t be such a letdown.”

I just ignored him and retreated up to my room, making sure to shove the wedge in the door. I had gotten a new splint of wood to serve as a doorstop, so now there wouldn’t be any unexpected intrusions. I even tested it, and let me tell you, it sure was a good quality wedge of wood. One that I definitely 1,000% believed would save me if Dad were to try and barge in.

“Maybe finding a wife would be worth it if I could get away from my family,” I sighed to myself.

With a pair of heavy shoulders, I emptied my coat pockets onto my bedside, which included a sizable bag of candy and a couple dollars. I put them both in a drawer that also contained a sealed bag of baked goods. Hey, I wanted my own sweets that wouldn’t be stolen from or get me shamed for having. Dad didn’t exactly like me spending money on what he called “luxury goods” very much, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him…

As I came back downstairs to join the dinner table, I heard the continued argument between Grampy and Dad.

“Mark, do you know how embarrassing it is to see my grandson looking like a… like an incompetent daisy?! Look at the boy! Short, without facial hair, and with less muscle than your wife! I didn’t think a son of mine would raise such a failure of a man, if I can even call him that.”

“Um… hello,” I waved, sitting down next to Mum and putting some potatoes and vegetables on my plate.

“Adam, dear, take some turkey,” Grammy insisted. “How else do you expect to grow muscles like your father?”

“I was just about to take a bit…” I lied, putting a few bits of chicken on my plate. 

“Adam, when are you planning to cut that silly hair of yours?” Grandpa asked crassly. “I could’ve mistook you for a woman by the way you looked from behind.”

“You’ve ridiculed the boy enough,” Dad grumbled. “It’s not completely his fault, how much of a failure he is.”

Thank you, Dad. Your reminders of my shortcomings always bring a smile to my heart. I had to conceal my smile when Grandpa said I looked like a woman though. It was just from the back, sure, but it was a start! Maybe one day I could work on the front as well.

Thankfully, they moved on from ridiculing my masculinity as the topic of choice for dinner and quickly started talking about politics. Why does Grampy have such strong and passionate opinions about American politics despite living in Canada? Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe French politics weren’t as interesting, or perhaps Grampy didn’t want to give the hint that Canada might have problems of its own. The Canadian pride was strong in our family.

My feelings were still welling up inside, and the way I dealt with them were just to eat. Feeling sad? Take another bite. Want to cry? Mashed potatoes and peas will fix that. Thinking about how depressing and worthless you are? The dessert won’t judge you. So I ate, and ate, and ate, and ate… I ate so much that by the end of dinner, I wasn’t feeling sad. Or happy. Just exhausted and in pain.

“Honey, are you alright?” Mum whispered while Grammy complained about the pie. “You’ve eaten quite and look and look uncomfortable. You’re… sweating. Quite a bit.”

“Oh… Sorry…” I panted. For some reason, I felt out of breath from just eating! “I just… I just need to rest.”

“Go on to sleep then, honey,” she sighed. “I’m afraid that with Mark’s parents, the rest of the night is only going to get worse.”

“I’ll take my leave then,” I nodded, getting up and excusing myself.

“Look at the boy, going to bed before ten,” Grammy ridiculed. “If Adam can’t stay up that late, how am I ever going to live to see myself get great grandchildren?”

“It’s not about grandchildren or great grandchildren,” Mum defended as I went upstairs. “He’s not ready for a wife.”

“At this rate, he never will be. God help us all if he tries to tie the knot with a man.”

With that loving comment in my head, I escaped to my room and flopped down into bed. Despite having just eaten a feast, I felt absolutely exhausted. My stomach was bloated and beyond discomfort, but the feeling of emptiness returned inside as the endless stream of berating comments cycled through my head. Why couldn’t I just be normal? Why wouldn’t I be the proper son that Dad wanted me to be and get a wife and child? Why couldn’t I have been born a woman like I feel so strongly I was meant to?

With a million thoughts swirling through my head, I surrendered myself to exhaustion and let myself get dragged into a deep sleep…

*   *   *   *   *

When I opened my eyes, I stood in the middle of a barren street. The sun was completely obscured by a sky of melancholic gray overcast. I shouldn’t have been able to tell, but I could feel the sun falling below the horizon, behind the gray curtain. I was in the center of a crossroads, each road of the four-way street stretching into an expanse of thick, impenetrable fog. The only thing that gave me any semblance of light was a feeble flickering street lamp on the street corner. I tugged at the collar of the tight suit that I was dressed up in. It was so constricting and stuffy, and when I moved it just ended up tugging on some other part of my body.

“Hello?!” I called out, hearing my voice echo through the uncannily silent streets. 

“Hello?” shouted my own muddled voice back to me.

“Thanks, echo,” I mumbled to myself. “Is anyone there?”

Suddenly, I could hear someone walk through the streets, shoe heels clicking against the lonesome cobblestones. My jaw dropped when I saw who it was. Strutting through the fog, swinging her hips, emerged myself! Or, who I wished I was. A beautiful young woman in a stellar dress whose smile shined as bright as the sun. Her entire demeanor dripped with confidence and swagger.

“You’re…” I was so speechless that I could barely get any words out. “You’re…”

“I’m you,” she finished with a sickly sweet smile that made me nervous.

“Y-You can’t be me,” I said, more trying to convince myself than her. “You just can’t be! I’m me!”

“Hmph, ‘I’m me,’ he says,” she chuckled. “No, I assure you that I’m you. Are you yourself?”

“I… Of course I’m myself!”

“Are you sure?”

“Erm… Yes…?”

“You don’t sound certain.”

“Who are you to tell me who I am?!” I stomped.

“Who am I?” the woman frowned, marching towards me with a scary elegance and composure. She only stopped when we were nearly chest-to-chest. I could see every detail of her face, and the woman really did look like me if I had been born female. “Who am I? Who are you? Are you really Adam?”

“I…”

“That’s what I thought. You can kid yourself, but you can’t fool me. You’re living in a prison of your own making, and the worst part is that you’ve been handed the key but don’t have the bravery to take it.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” I shouted, turning around and running deep into the thick fog. I couldn’t see where I was going, but I just wanted to run. Tears streamed down my face as the woman’s voice still echoed behind me.

“Run away, Adam! Run away as long as you can! The moment you stop to take a rest, I’ll be there. Waiting!”

*   *   *   *   *

I woke up from my dream drenched in sweat and still with a dull throbbing stomach pain from everything that I had eaten for dinner. I wasn’t sure when it was, but stars still dotted the sky outside my window. Even though I wasn’t remotely hungry, with the state of my body and all, I was still compelled to eat something. Slowly, I reached into my side drawer and pulled out both the bag of candy I had brought home and my own stash of baked sweets, and started eating away with complete and total apathy. My distress and insecurity melted away with each bite until I couldn’t feel anything at all and passed out for the night right in my bed.