I hadn’t been home for a very long time. Actually, I hadn’t been home since I went away to college more than ten years ago. My parents and siblings preferred to come to the big city, New York, instead to see me. Much more exciting than our little town. The town could have been the model for a Hallmark movie. Everyone knows everybody and all that. The church socials, the Christmas market. Well, you get the picture(s).

Since I was going to move to Paris (France, not Texas) I finally decided to go back once before I moved. Of course, my family would love to visit Paris with the excuse of visiting me, so we’d still see each other but it was Christmas and all that… Also, I have to admit that part of the reason I went back was so that I could brag about my new position as the manager of our Paris office. Quite a career move for a young woman, especially one born as a boy.

The winter road was treacherous and some five miles outside the town I wound up in the ditch. When I was standing there trying to evaluate the damages (minimal) trying to figure out how to get the car up on the road again (very tricky) a pickup truck loaded with Christmas trees stopped. The guy getting out of the truck was breathtakingly handsome. He was the incarnation of a Norse god. 6’6”, long wavy blonde hair, the bluest eyes I’d ever seen, a manly beard, strong arms. The torso was hidden by a lumberjack-style jacket but I could imagine the rippling muscles beneath. I could hardly breathe such was his effect on me. I had never met a man that I had WANTED like this prime example of the species. I woke up again when he asked me what had happened. Not that it wasn’t obvious. His voice was as heavenly and masculine as everything else about him. In five minutes flat he had my car up on the road again. Well, what could be more natural than giving him a thank you kiss, on the cheek. He had a very nice blush. He got back into his vehicle and said

“See you in town later”

How could he know that I was staying in town and not just passing through?

“and welcome back, Martin”

Now it was me blushing. I hadn’t recognized Simon, my inseparable friend when we were boys. I had kissed him, how embarrassing. Not that I hadn’t wanted to kiss him when we were teenagers, but I hadn’t dared. I had been too afraid of what could happen. We had spent all our time together. Simon was a bit exotic. His mother was the only foreigner in town She was from Canada. Originally, she had come to Walker’s Pass to be the French teacher at the local high school. After two years school board decided to stop trying to get any students to study a foreign language but Henriette had got married to a local man so she became the geography teacher instead. Despite all the years in our town she still had kept that exotic French accent. I had adored her. She represented the big world “outside” to me.

I drove into town down Main Street. There was the bakery from where there came enticing wisps of the smell of freshly baked bread, the quaint little Antiques Shoppe, the old General Store that was the local Gossip Central. As I drove past Simon waved at me with a broad smile. He was busy getting the Christmas trees set up to sell.

I drove on to my parents’ house where I got a warm welcome, i.e. a mug of hot cocoa. Having settled in I left my parents to the Christmas preparations. Apparently, I was just in the way. I could hardly avoid passing by Simon’s Christmas tree selling place. He jumped out and hugged me.

“What a beautiful woman you have turned into.”

“What a hunk you have turned into”

Did I really say that out aloud? How embarrassing! However, judging from Simon’s smile he didn’t disapprove.

“So, what should I call you now?”

“Marianne”

From that point I was swept up by him. He introduced me to various people, without telling them who I used to be. One of the persons he introduced me to was his son, George. The cutest little nine-year old you could imagine. Well almost ten as he insisted. I was surprised that the boy wasn’t a big strapping lad like his father. He was rather “delicate”. His father wasn’t his fashion model either. Boy’s clothes but neat and not suited for rough and tumble.

I had lunch with them. Not a good idea since that fanned my infatuation with my old playmate. I could swoon just looking into his eyes. I tried to ask him about the mother of George. The only thing I got out of them was that she was Marilyn, one of the girls in our class. A Prom-induced pregnancy. Simon, who wasn’t great in school, married her and stayed in Walker’s pass with the child while the mother got herself a law degree before returning and setting up her own practice in town. Strangely enough they said absolutely nothing about her in the present. I got the impression that she had passed away and probably not that long ago. I also learnt that Simon’s mother also had passed away. That really saddened me. I had loved her both as Simon’s mother and as a teacher.

The next two days Simon and I got very close. The first time I followed him and George home I got a big surprise. George ran upstairs and soon came down in a pretty dress. Simon told me that “Anne” only appeared at home. She showed me her room. All in pink and frills. A real girly-girl. A pity she didn’t dare to show herself outside. Simon had told her about me, and it turned out that I had become a role model for Anne. One of the things was that she was determined to be as good as I had in school to become a hotshot lawyer like me. Strangely, she didn’t mention her mother in this context. Grief I assumed.

When I said Simon and I got very close I mean cuddly close. We sat out at night looking at those millions of stars visible on crystal clear the sky without any light contamination. I ‘pretended to be cold, so he swept his voluminous and warm jacket around both of us and hugged me closely. At that point I knew that this was the one and only man for me. We looked at each other. Slowly, slowly our faces were pulled closer to each other by an invisible force. We kissed. We broke off and looked slightly embarrassedly at each other and then once again the force acted on us. The second kiss never seemed to end. Neither did the third nor ….

“I love you” I whispered

“Not as much as I love you” he whispered back.

I returned home walking on small pink clouds. I couldn’t hide what had happened when I got back so I told Mother and Father. They were very upset and told me firmly that I had to forget about that. Why? They didn’t want to tell me. They just ordered me not to see Simon again.

The next day I understood. When I was in the General Store I heard the clerk greet someone called Marilyn and then ask if she had missed Simon and George on her trip. How could Simon do such a thing! He had cheated on her. No, we hadn’t got into bed but that night under the stars was way beyond that. He had CHEATED on his wife. He had deceived me. Did he do this to every gullible woman he came across? My heart was crushed. How could he do this to me? I ran out of the shop crying.

I returned home and locked myself into the room I used. I cried and cried. I thought I finally had met my great love. Someone who was comfortable with who I am and it turned out to be just a philanderer. Not MY room any longer. Now it was an impersonal guest room. I wished I could have left Walker’s Pass immediately, but I couldn’t do that to my parents, not on Christmas Eve. I passed a miserable Christmas without leaving the house again. I prepared to go home to New York and a miserable single existence again but I had to buy a few things first.

Of course, I had to run into Simon, Marilyn and George. I tried to get away, but Marily stopped me.

“So, you’re the girl that my Simon has fallen in love with.”

Stammering I tried to explain things but she interrupted me. She explained that her and Simon’s marriage never had been a happy one. Shot-gun weddings rarely are she added. George (she never used the name Anne) just compounded things. Marilyn was angry at Simon for coddling the boy and refusing Marily to “man up the sissy”. Not that she’d ever really cared about the unwelcome child. At that stage Marilyn had found herself a lover. A rich one. They had just spent two weeks in the Caribbean. Unashamedly Marilyn admitted that she’d have divorced Simon long ago if she could have found a way to get out of alimony and child support. Simon falling in love with me was unexpected good luck. If he wanted to marry me, well good riddance was her opinion. She knew how to expedite divorces, especially if uncontested. Then she could marry her rich lover and move to Bahamas. I was aghast and was about to hit her but the happy face on Anne’s face made me to hold my anger. Marily happily skipped down the street. Simon shocked the town by embracing me forcefully and no less forcefully kiss me. Now people REALLY had something to gossip about!

Simon, Anne and I went into the coffeeshop to clear things up. Did I want to marry Simon? Of course I did! (A loud YAY from Anne). The only thing was that I wasn’t sure if I could fit in in Walker’s Pass again. I could probably take over Marilyn’s practice but …

“Marianne, you stupid little goose. Why ever should you move here?”

“But this is where you and Anne belong.”

“ WE don’t belong here. I hate this end-of-world town. I only stayed because I have no marketable skills I could use in a big city and as for Anne… Why did you wait until AFTER you left Walker’s Pass before you transitioned? Don’t think I couldn’t see that you were a girl long before that.”

He was right. Walker’s Pass is paradise if you fit in. If you don’t, like if you’re transgendered, then you’re OUT. Not like that they will abuse you in any way, but you will be an outsider, not welcome in the community, cold-shouldered. Being lonely in place like Walker’s Pass can be very lonely indeed.

“Besides I just realized that I have some marketable skills for a specific job. I’m a hunk like you said when you came.” (I blushed again) “I speak fluent, cultured French and I have read all of my mother’s high-brow novels. Maman encouraged me to speak French at home. I was the only one she could speak French with here and she wanted to discuss all those books with me. So, you see, I’m highly qualified to be a trophy-husband in Paris. Please, please be my knightess in shining armor and rescue me and Anne!”

The next day all three of us left Walker’s Pass.