Blessed Hearts Series

---

“Look, you don’t have to like this; I don’t myself, but I really haven’t been left with many choices here,” he said as he pointed to himself. “Just don’t be angry with me, okay? I couldn’t bear another rejection.”

“Oh God, Sandy, I’m not angry with you. I’m angry with me.” She said as she turned away, afraid to face him.

“...You’re my best friend and you just hurt yourself so badly I can’t bear it. I’m so sorry you feel so bad about yourself and I’m partly to blame because I haven’t told you how precious you are.”

---

Previously

“Never let anyone define who you are,” her friend Stacy had said, “even me.” They got a nice laugh out of it, but Stacy had been serious. Dale had to discover who she was and why she was, as Stacy had reminded her.

“Dale…you are here for a reason. Not to wear the right clothes, not to say the right things, not to please the right people; even in our community. You’re here because you have a purpose. Like that fellow in Chariots of Fire….God made you for a pupose….and when you find out what that is, honey, you will absolutely know His pleasure!”

She stared at Sandy, perhaps her best friend next to her sister since Stacy and she lost touch and now that she and Hannah were no longer together. Her feelings were very old and brand new at the same time. And once again she beheld the sweetest, kindest woman she ever knew.

“Fuck….why did this have to happen…why me?” She smiled as the tears came, even as she knew that she knew that she knew that the love of her life…the girl she was destined to spend the rest of her life with…was a boy named Philippe Pevour.

---

The Pevour home, much later

Sandy awoke in the middle of the night. She sat up and looked over at Dale, who had fallen asleep in the recliner. Shaking her head, she got up quickly and walked to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, she cringed at the sight of black streaks on her face from her mascara after an hour of crying. She stripped off her dress and threw it unceremoniously along with her lingerie on the floor and climbed into the shower. Turning on the faucet, she scrubbed her face and tossed the cloth onto the ledge, put her head against the wall of the shower and began to cry.

After a few minutes a knock came at the door.

“Sandy? Sandy? Are you okay?’ Dale had her head against the door, trying to hear.

“Dale…Go away! I don’t want to talk.”

“Can’t do that, kiddo!” She tried the door; it was locked.

“Come on, Sandy. Please.” A moment later she heard the water stop running. A few moments after that, she heard a loud buzzing sound.

“Oh shit! No…Sandy for God’s sake no!” She heard no response as the buzzing continued for a minute or so longer before stopping abruptly, only to be replaced by sobbing from behind the door.

“Sandy… Please?” She tried the door again, without success until she heard the latch turn in the lock.

“I need you to give me some time,” the sadly familiar face said. Dale stood horrified to see the sad woman standing in front of her with the crewcut and tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Oh no….Sandy…no.” Dale shook her head and grabbed his arm. “Why?”

“I don’t fit in…like we sang…I’m a misfit. I’m tired of trying. I don’t care anymore. Go home, Dale.” He smiled weakly and closed the door.

---

The following morning at Sandusky Women's Health Center

“Oh, Mrs. Pevour, I’m glad you’re here. Dr. Bettincourt had a cancellation; she’ll be able to see you in a few minutes.” Dana nodded at the receptionist and sat down. A moment later her attention to the three-month old People magazine was interrupted by a friendly and familiar voice.

“Hi Dana…this is a surprise. Melanie is my doctor as well. I’ve known her since I moved here. She was with me…” Persis’ voice trailed off. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be…you care. You saved my life, and your words of comfort yesterday meant the world to me. I know things are going to be alright, and I have you to thank for that." Dana put her hand on Persis’ arm and a shiver went up her back. She looked into her eyes and saw the most welcoming caring expression she’d ever beheld.

“Listen, I’m still here waiting for some paperwork to be faxed. Are you busy for lunch? My treat.”

“Okay, that would be wonderful. “ Dana said quickly as the nurse called her. Persis put her head back against the wall and closed her eyes and smiled.

---

Later, in the elevator

“If you don’t mind…oh gosh this is so embarrassing.” Dana turned red and looked away.

“Sure, go ahead…no worries.” Persis smiled as they rode the elevator down to the lobby.

“I’m really embarrassed…I’m sorry…but I don’t really care for curry or even much Indian cuisine.” Persis began to laugh softly in a way that didn’t add to Dana’s embarrassment. She put her hand on Dana’s shoulder, evincing yet another shiver.

“Me too, honey. We had so much of it growing up, and I can make it any time at home. They have this great new French restaurant over on Beasley. Sound okay?”

Dana tried to retreat, but an elevator is such a small place with corners in too-close proximity.

“Ssure…that would bbbee fine.” She felt her cheeks grow almost hot and the mirrored wall revealed a nice shade of red which quickly approximated magenta.

“Dana, It’s okay…it’s just lunch.” Persis’ smile was so disarming and so relaxing and so wonderful that Dana became flustered.

“Sussshure. French…nice…You’re nice …it’s all nice! “ She was babbling by now.

“Dana…It’s okay…really…”

Persis tried to pat her on the back to comfort her but all that did was send Dana into the wall of the elevator. She leaned too close, perhaps, and when Dana turned around they were face to face. Dana’s eyes got wide as she relaxed in every way possible save one, which actually was ultimately unfortunate or fortunate as it turned out for her. She tried to push away from the wall at the moment the elevator stopped on the ground floor abruptly, causing her to lose her balance. She fell forward into Persis’ arms, and their lips met.

“Staaahp,” Persis said, all the while kissing Dana back.

“Yooooh stahhhp,” Dana cried as she kissed Persis. Soon the two gave up entirely and enjoyed the moment. A second later the car doors opened up, revealing two very nice women in a nice embrace. A surprised elderly couple stood at the doors of the elevator; they looked at each other and smiled.

“That’s okay…we’ll take the next car.” The old man chuckled as the doors closed and the elevator began its return ascent carrying two women, both decidedly red-faced but also decidedly okay!

---

The same morning at the Pevour home

“You’re still here…Go home, Dale,” Sandy said as he walked into the living room. Dale glared at him, and her face betrayed her obvious disappointment.

“Look, you don’t have to like this; I don’t myself, but I really haven’t been left with many choices here,” he said as he pointed to himself. “Just don’t be angry with me, okay? I couldn’t bear another rejection.”

“Oh God, Sandy, I’m not angry with you. I’m angry with me.” She said as she turned away, afraid to face him.

“What? I don’t understand?” Sandy said, shaking his head. He walked over to her and put his hand on her shoulder, prompting her to shrug it off.

“I feel I’ve been such a poor friend to you; you deserve more than what I’ve given you lately and it shows.” She wiped her face with her hand and sniffled. Sandy grabbed a box of tissue off the mantel and handed it to her.

“You’re my best friend and you just hurt yourself so badly I can’t bear it. I’m so sorry you feel so bad about yourself and I’m partly to blame because I haven’t told you how precious you are.”

“Wwhhaat? Dale...what are you saying?”

“You are precious…a wonder to me, Sandy. I’ve been so stuck in my own stuff and everything other people put on me that I didn’t appreciate just what a beautiful person you are.” She grabbed his hand and kissed it. Now it was his turn to pull away.

“I can’t be what you want from me.” He shook his head.

“Yes you can…if you listen to me. She refused to let go of his hand.

“You don’t even know what I want…what I need.” She began to weep; her tears falling at his feet.

“I’m not the man for you.” Sandy shook his head, continuing to try to pull away.

“No you’re not…you’re the girl for me.” She looked up into his…her eyes and smiled.

“Sandy…you’re the most precious woman I have ever known. You’re thoughtful…kind…caring; more than anyone I’ve ever met…and you just don’t see yourself the way I see you…you’re beautiful.” Sandy felt her hand go limp as her resistance left. Dale pulled her down onto the couch and kissed her.

It really wasn’t about sex or even about kissing at that point, but about two friends finding something brand new about each other; learning that their acceptance led to them accepting themselves. Sandy broke down and wept, perhaps harder than she had ever, since there were so many dimensions to her tears. For her brother and even her father, for her mother, for the nephew who never took a breath, for Dana …for Dale, and for her dreams, hopes, and herself…each of them had perished in some way with such a sense of loss and sadness as to overwhelm.

But Sandy was also crying from relief over the knowing of her self; the self she feared had died and been buried like her sad past. The relief fostered by the love and confidence and faith that a resurrection was possible. The little girl who sat at Jesus' feet while the brother labored and was neglected. The girl who stood face to face with her Lord and spoke the sad words… If you had been here I would not have died, failing to realize He had sent Dale to resurrect her.

“Don’t be ashamed…you’re okay…you’re just so wonderful…please hold me. I need you to hold me like I matter.” Dale wept as well, feeling unloveable most of her life; she was almost right since she had failed to love herself; failed to realize how dear she was even with the love of her sister…of her parents. Convinced that she’d never enjoy the things other girls wanted and needed. And now finally finding her sense of self…and discovering her love for Sandy.

And so the lesbian from Galveston loved the homosexual from Sandusky; each then losing restrictions… both falling into each other as the cold labels were replaced by a new love of selves and new identities. Gone were the stereotypes and expectations, replaced by Dale Tran Muldoon, dear sweet daughter of Annie and Peter; sister of Dana, and Sandy…Sandra Jean Pevour, sister of Johnny and daughter of Collette; two precious women discovering each other and themselves for the very first time.

Next: Decisions!

---

Illustration adapted from
"Maud Cook" 1895, a painting by
Thomas Eakins 1844 - 1916

Becoming Free
words and music by
Andrea Lena DiMaggo