A Date With Faet - Extras #2 (pt.1)
=::= Kaitlyn’s PoV =::=
I sighed as I read through the email again, then finally switched off the screen in a fit of frustration.
It was Sunday of the May long weekend, and just over a year had passed since I first attempted to open my clinic. A year of frustration and setbacks for me. Worse though, it was a year of dysphoria and hardship for all the trans people I’d be otherwise helping, if it weren’t for the endless governmental delays and hand-wringing.
All the bureaucracy and red tape was giving me yet another stress headache. I was convinced cis human officials were going to be the end of me. It was nothing but gatekeeping. For more than a hundred years they’d been doing their best to make life difficult for trans people, and they weren’t about to let me come along and change things. At least, that’s how it felt sometimes.
I’d already been forced to scrap my idea of combining fae magic with human chemistry. My attempts were unsuccessful and I realized I’d need to study fae alchemy in order to have any chance of making it work. However by that point I also understood the human officials would block a ‘medicinal’ solution as enthusiastically as they were blocking my direct magical efforts.
It was almost enough to tempt me back into some of my old ways. Almost. I could daydream at least, about a few of the more irritating politicians and their vocal religious supporters finding out first-hand what it was like being stuck in a body that didn’t fit.
It also crossed my mind that I could enlist the help of Tegan and my sisters. Or Keira at least, I knew she’d probably enjoy relieving me of a few of the biggest thorns in my side. Over the past five decades I’d observed all three of them doing the same things they once condemned me for.
Though to be fair, while the three of them had become adept at those spells, they didn’t use them to line their pockets. I wasn’t really sure if it was a moral line or just a large grey area, but I supposed it was an important distinction. They used that magic for their protection and occasionally for revenge, but never for profit or entertainment.
And as for my current frustrations, while I might daydream about some awkward and uncomfortable fates befalling the people who were causing me stress, I’d never actually do it. Nor would I ask Tegan or my sisters to do it for me, that would be just as bad. Perhaps even worse.
So I would continue to play by the complicated and endless rules the humans set. I would persevere, and if all else failed, I would simply outlive them and hope that their replacements were less bull-headed. And until then I would go on secretly helping as many trans people as I could.
I was tempted to take something for my headache, but it was nearly dinner-time so I thought perhaps food would be a better choice. Before I’d made my mind up whether to cook something myself or order in, I was surprised by a ping from the large infotainment screen on the wall. There was someone down in the lobby asking to see me.
I lived in a condo in one of the older buildings along the lakeshore. It had a quaint retro style to it, but the units were comfortable. The security had been updated over the years, as had the utilities so it had all the latest modern conveniences.
In fact it was one of the few pieces of real estate I’d managed to hold on to over the years. My daughter originally purchased it with my money, and neither of us had ever bothered to sell it. At one time it was even home to Kelly and Tegan.
I stared at the notification for a few moments. I wasn’t expecting any visitors, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to see anyone right now. On the other hand, I realized it might be someone looking for my help. My name was known in the trans community, and it wouldn’t be the first time a desperate human had tracked me down and come to request a miracle.
“Answer,” I stated as I gestured towards the screen. The alert was replaced by a camera feed from the lobby, and I was shocked when I saw who it was staring at me through the screen.
Her eyes were sunken and their colour was dull, dark circles surrounded them. Her hair was grey now, and there was extra weight evident under her chin and clinging to her cheeks.
She sighed, “Hello Kaitlyn. Could I please come up and see you?”
Kelsey sounded tired, sad, old, and most of all, she sounded defeated. It was also the first time she’d ever uttered my name, that I could recall. I hadn’t seen her in over fifty years. Not since the summer before Claire and I started university together, when I met Kelsey in that restaurant in Vancouver. My daughter said she never wanted to see or hear from me again and I honoured her wishes. I kept away, I even avoided visiting the west coast so as to not run into her on accident.
I did some quick mental calculations and realized she’d be past a hundred years old by now. One hundred and thirteen if my math was correct. In fact her most recent birthday would have been just last month.
After a few seconds delay I finally nodded “Yes Kelsey of course you can come up. I’ll buzz you through.”
“Thank you,” she replied.
I gestured towards the screen again and said, “End call, access granted.”
The screen went dark and I knew in two or three minutes my daughter would be at my door. I dashed into my bedroom and quickly threw on some clothes. I’d spent the day lazing about in a comfy nightgown but I pulled on a blouse and a pair of jeans. I just had time to check my hair in the bathroom mirror before she knocked.
When I opened the door we both stared awkwardly at each other for a few moments.
While she could pass for a woman in her sixties, the look in her eyes was closer to her true age. She was wearing dull grey track pants, well-worn sneakers, and a dark hoodie. There was a bag dangling from her left hand, that was either a large purse or a small pack.
Her grey hair was unkempt with some tangles evident, it was cut short and likely hadn’t been properly styled in ages. She wore no make-up, and her face looked somewhat haggard, with wrinkles reflecting a lifetime of stress and unhappiness. Her shoulders were slumped and her back slouched, so she looked a couple inches shorter than her original five-foot-eight.
In all, she was the visage of a woman whom life had finally beaten.
By contrast I looked no more than twenty. I was still a small, slight girl. I wasn’t quite five-foot-one and my body was slender and petite. My bright red hair hung a few inches past my shoulders in a style that was popular nowadays. My eyes were brilliant emerald green and my skin was smooth soft and fair.
At first I wasn’t sure how to even greet her. After a few moments hesitation I decided she looked like she needed a hug, so that is what I did.
I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her as I said softly, “Hello Kelsey.”
Her body tensed briefly, then she allowed herself to relax. I felt her right arm tentatively wrap around my shoulders and she gently returned the hug.
Once we separated again I motioned “Please come in, sit down. Can I get you anything? I have soda, white wine, hard lemonade, and I can make coffee or tea if you like?”
I added, “I’m afraid I don’t have any Bordeaux or Burgundy. I could order some in though? It’ll only take a half hour to get a few bottles.”
She moved to the sofa and dropped her bag on the coffee table as she sat down.
“Hard lemonade? Vodka coolers are kid’s drinks,” she commented with a slight smile.
I blushed, “Well I do have a young palate. Anyways Kelly got me onto those and I suppose the taste grew on me. As I said, I can order in something more mature if you like?”
Kelsey shook her head, “Soda is fine thank you. I… I’ve been sober for eighteen years now. I don’t want to fall off that wagon again.”
“Of course,” I replied. I grabbed a couple cans of cola from the fridge as I processed that news. I hadn’t been keeping tabs on her, so I had no idea she’d turned to alcohol or that she’d subsequently kicked the habit. I felt bad for her, but I was glad she’d left it behind.
As I sat with her I asked, “So what brings you here? What can I do for you?”
She had a few gulps of the soda then sighed. Her eyes were on the coffee table rather than me, as if she had trouble facing me.
When she finally spoke, her voice was soft and to my ears she sounded full of regret.
“You stayed away like I asked. I told you I didn’t want to see you again, and you actually listened to me. I… Life hasn’t gone well for me, dad. For decades I blamed my situation on Keira and her geas. And I blamed Tegan, for taking my girls away from me. I even blamed you, for refusing to lift the geas the last time we met.”
She sighed, “I’ve struggled since then. I tried finding work with other fae, I tried using my knowledge and contacts in the shadow economy. Over and over I found myself exploited, ostracized, and betrayed. Eventually I came to understand, a half-fae like myself would never be accepted as one of them. I’m sure I was only accepted in the past because I worked with you. Without you, I’m just another half-breed.”
After another sigh she continued, “So I tried to find my way with the humans, but I never had the mindset for legit work. I continued to live in the grey areas, or on the wrong side of the law. And eventually my luck ran out there too.”
There was a long pause, then she admitted “I spent the last seventeen years in prison. I just got out a few months ago. I’ve got nothing left. No money, no property, nowhere to turn. No friends, no family. No future at all really. And I thought, I suppose I thought maybe you’d be able to help me? Last time we met, you offered to help. I was hoping, maybe…”
Kelsey gulped then finally looked at me and asked, “Dad will you help me? Please?”
“Of course,” I replied.
She let out a little sigh, as if she’d been holding her breath. “Thank you.”
After a pause, I offered “How’d you like me to make us some dinner?”
She looked grateful as she replied, “That would be really nice.”
I got started in the kitchen, I wasn’t up for cooking anything too fancy but I had a feeling that wasn’t what she needed anyways. Instead I decided something simple but wholesome was in order.
She watched for a few moments while I began preparing the food, then commented “You know dad, I don’t think you’ve ever cooked for me before.”
There was no sarcasm or derision in her tone, if anything she sounded impressed and grateful. And she was certainly correct, I didn’t learn the joy of doing things for others until Susan took me in. Helping out and fixing meals at her Bed and Breakfast was perhaps the first time in my life I’d felt truly happy.
However, my daughter’s words left me with something on my mind. And as I was chopping the vegetables I decided I needed to come out and say it.
“Kelsey? I appreciate you using my name earlier, thank you for that. This might come across as awkward to you but I have to ask you to stop calling me ‘dad’. I know that’s who I was to you, but… To be honest it causes me some dysphoria. I’m not going to ask you to call me ‘mom’, but please stop using masc-gendered terms for me. Ok?”
I watched her as I spoke, and she frowned at first. Then she looked thoughtful, and finally she nodded.
“Ok Kaitlyn,” she replied. “I’ll do my best to remember that.”
PurpleCatGirl