Down to Earth Replacing the Irreplaceable for Mea by Andrea Lena DiMaggio   'Tis the last rose of summer left blooming alone All her lovely companions are faded and gone No flower of her kindred, no rosebud is nigh To reflect back her blushes and give sigh for sigh

This story is a continuation of A Question of Balance. Thus far: Three women, centuries old and practitioners of Draihoidel, the old arts, had come along side a girl in desperate need of understanding and encouragement. Each had taken the form of mortals to influence three souls close to the girl. The fourth member of the group, the girl’s brother had been a practitioner of the old arts for only a few days. The women have returned to help the family once again, along with others that need the healing that only love can provide...

Most recently...Phyllis Jenkins, acting Principal, has called a meeting with Mike McCarthy and Petey Carlucci to discuss their wearing girls’ clothes to health class. Also summoned are Mike’s Aunt Breena; his legal guardian, Dave Ackerman, who was teaching the class, and Paul Giambrone, who gave the boys permission to wear the clothes in an act of solidarity with Diane Lambert, the guidance counselor who has begun her real-life test; much to the chagrin of the school board and Ms. Jenkins.

Previously…years ago…

“Listen, Eddie...I’ll do the talking, okay...you just stand behind me and crouch. They won’t know what hit them.”

She looked again at the photo, twisted a bit from the broken frame, but still straight enough to display the smiles of two loving girls; frozen in time as nearly identical twins with two different futures. One brief and filled with doubt and rejection; the other long and painful while also filled with doubt and rejection. Phyllis reached down and picked up the photo from the floor and held it close to her chest and wept. And Calleigh put her hand on the woman’s right over her heart, her own eyes filled with tears as well, but tears of renewal and hope and love.

At school, the next day...

“Excuse me, can you tell me where the office is? I’ve a meetin’ to attend with my nephew, and I’m sorry but I’m just a wee bit late.” She was fifteen minutes early; Breena always wanted to be prepared; sometimes to the exclusion of her own needs. Paul smiled and used his arm to usher Breena out of the way as a cascade of students piled out into the hallway as the last bell rang.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to be so forward, but the halls here get a bit chaotic at the end of the day.” Paul smiled and Breena smiled back. She was being polite, most likely, since she hadn’t ever taken the time to notice anyone. But the return smile; almost like a volley in a tennis match, did her in. She shuddered; she hadn’t felt this way since she was twelve. It was lifetime and a gender ago, when Billy O’Casey kissed ‘him’ full on the lips. She recalled with a bit of nostalgia and irony that it was the only time she could remember the word ‘fag’ feeling like a complement.

“That’s okay...?” She tilted her head and Paul picked up on the gesture.

“Oh...I’m sorry, I’m Paul Giambrone. You must be Mike’s Aunt Breena. I’m pleased to meet you.” He smiled again and she turned away, red-faced. There still remained within her a feeling that she was somehow second-rate; a poser or pretender. Having spent most of her adult life raising her sister’s children from almost the time she had transitioned, she had little time for relationships with adults, much less romantic feelings, and this moment just served to reinforce just how inadequate she felt. Both of them needed someone...bad. They were complete without another in their lives, to be sure, but there just are some folks that should be with another.

Fiona, or rather Melissa Grabowski as she was ‘clad’ today, smiled at Orla, or rather Tommy Washington, a recent transfer from Pittsburgh. Tommy smiled back and ‘tripped,’ falling against Paul’s back; pushing him forward. Melissa dropped her Calculus book and in reaching down to pick it up, ‘stumbled’ against Breena, causing her to lose her balance. The resulting collision resembled the telephone scene in It’s a Wonderful Life, where George and Mary are pressed against each other; both looking uncomfortable and falling in love all in the same moment.

“I’m sorry...I can’t seem to move. Oh...you’re falling, here let me....”

“No...that’s alright...no...please.” Emotions can arise at the most inopportune moments. Paul had sworn, despite Kate’s insistance, that he would never find another love. Breena looked everyday in the mirror above her dresser and wept silently to herself, consigned to living without love or even friendship; inauthentic and therefore unworthy. Both took notice of the other; possibly with a bit of magic, but really the only magic was that the two were such nice people, they really deserved each other.

“Oh...no...no...” Breena thought, believing as always that she was unlovable; suited for cleaning and cooking like an old maid servant. Paul looked into her eyes and saw the same sad kindness that filled his late wife’s countenance; her eyes filled with hope like Kate’s as well. He smiled and said quietly,

“I’m sorry...” He helped her stand as the crowd in the hallway. “You know? It’s really odd that we so often ask for forgiveness for something as normal and pleasant as making contact with another human being. Having said that, I apologize if I have in anyway made you feel uncomfortable.” She looked up into his eyes and something brand-new and wonderful took place. So profound that Melissa Grabowski and Tommy Washington began to tear up at the sight.

Paul took Breena’s hand and led her into the office across the hall. It was only after a few seconds that both of them noticed that he had yet to let her hand go. And without even thinking, he squeezed her hand as he released it; almost as a way of welcome. Melissa Grabowski stood across the hall and sighed. Tommy Washington seemed to have disappeared as Alice Noonan, the newest member of the custodial department, made her way toward Phyllis Jenkin’s office...

I'll not leave thee, thou lone one, to pine on the stem
Since the lovely are sleeping, go sleep thou with them
Thus kindly I scatter thy leaves o'er the bed
Where thy mates of the garden lie scentless and dead

A short while later...

“Oh...hello, Dave. The others have yet to arrive. Why don’t you have a seat?” Phyllis seemed abrupt. The past twenty-four hours had been unkind to her; leaving her with little sleep and a lot of emotion to deal with. Dave smiled, noticing her expression, which he rightly attributed to being tired. Just how tired he was about to find out. She had just sat down when a knock came at her office door.

“Beggin’ yer pardon,” Alice Noonan said, poking her head through the open door way.

“I’m sorry this has taken so long, but the work order only got to me a few minutes ago...”

“I’m sorry? What is this about?” Phyllis snapped.

“Oh, please excuse me. The broken lock on your door? I’ve got to get it fixed before I leave; my supervisor said to make sure it’s repaired before tomorrow.” She shrugged as Phyllis shook her head.

“I’m sure it’ll be okay,” Dave said. He turned to Alice and nodded with a finger to his lips to encourage her to be quiet. Alice nodded back and closed the door quietly. She proceeded to remove the door handle and set it on the desk outside Phyllis’ office just as the fire alarm went off; signaling a fire drill. No one liked impromptu fire drills, especially at the end of the day.

“Oh, Christ...that’s all I need.” Phyllis got up with a start and walked quickly to the door. She pulled at the door handle to turn it and it came off in her hand.

“Oh, hell.”

She looked out the small window in the door and saw that no one was in the suite outside. The alarm continued to sound. Dave noticed her anxiety and offered his assistance with a wave. She nodded and stepped back but her heel caught on the carpet and broke, sending her into Dave’s arms. Phyllis was always professional; virtually unemotional...even when her cat died. But remembering Eddie had taken a huge toll. She looked down at her broken heel and burst into tears the culmination of an absolutely horrible day. He helped her to the chair in front of her desk.

“It can’t be that bad.” Dave quipped. He really didn’t understand, but he wasn’t all that slow on the uptake either. Phyllis put her head in her hands and continued to weep.

“Gosh, Ms. Jenkins...Phyllis...what’s...it’s only a fire drill...we’ll be out of here in no time.” He half-smiled while looking over at the door. She was never one to ‘share’ her feelings. But today was not a normal day. She had planned the meeting to confront the boys about their behavior in dressing ‘up’ for class. But the more she thought about Petey and Mike, the more it made her recall her brother Eddie. And the more she remembered her brother, the more convicted she felt about her feelings toward ‘those’ kinds of boys; the kind that dress in girls’ clothes and kill themselves out of despair and hopelessness. She began to shake almost violently as Dave shook his head, not knowing what to do.

“Gosh, Phyllis...is there anything I can do? I can see this isn’t about anything here and now.” It almost sounded like a stupid question; Dave’s reputation as being obtuse and insensitive was really unfair. He sighed out of frustration as the woman continued to weep; a little softer and the shaking had subsided. A moment later she began to speak.

“Dave....Have you ever felt...” She shook her head. “Guilty?”

He knew immediately how she felt; not only because he was perceptive, although, again, he wasn’t as ‘dense’ as everyone supposed. But he also knew how she felt because he felt guilty too.

“Yes...all the time.” More candid than he had ever been with anyone, it was as if after years of bottling up his feelings and beliefs, the pressure was being released like the steam valve on a radiator. He smiled at her, a knowing smile; not happy but a smile that says ‘I understand completely.’ She tilted her head and frowned at the frustration of the day until he began.

“When I was fifteen, my brother Jimmy came to me and told me he had a secret. You know how brothers keep secrets...how we’re supposed to protect each other? I told him I had his back.” Dave bit his lip at the memory. Phyllis put her
head down, fearing where this was leading; a dread that he was leading her down a very famiilar and painful path.

“’Davey...don’t...please don’t tell anyone.’ He begged me, you know?” Dave’s voice broke and his eyes began to shed big tears.

“No...Dave...please...you don’t have to.” Phyllis didn’t know the story, but she recognized the look in his eyes, the same that greeted her every morning and ushered her to bed on sleepless nights.

“I have to...I’ve never told anyone...ever.” He looked over at the door; almost hoping someone would break it down and give them both a reprieve.

“He told me. Phyllis...and I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone.” He shook his head.

“Daddy got pissed off that the lawn wasn’t mowed and he wasn’t a soft man...you know? He pulled out his belt and was gonna hit me...” Dave choked back a sob. Phyllis shook her head. She was still crying, but part of her took in every word he was saying; even the ones he had yet to speak.

“I yelled, ’Jimmy wants to be a girl...he told me...he dresses when nobody’s home.’ Daddy’s eyes got wide and he looked at me like he was grateful...like I did him a big favor. And then he beat me anyway ...harder than I ever got beat before. I swear to God...I didn’t think he’d do it...but he did...My beating was like a fucking picnic...oh gosh, I’m sorry...it was like...easy....He put Jimmy in the hospital.” Dave put his head down, almost as if he was only into the first chapter of a horror story. He lifted his head and the look on his face was one of sheer grief.

“Jimmy...Mommy found him in our room the day after he got home from the hospital....” Dave said, but choked back a sob and finished.

“You know what the old man said? ‘I hope you’re fucking satisfied!’ Me...” Dave looked at Phyllis and saw the woman had stopped crying and was staring at him in disbelief.

“I’m so sorry...you didn’t need to hear that...I am so sorry.”

“Dave...” She spoke softly as she looked into his eyes.

“You were a kid...” She paused as the words that she spoke to give him solace and forgiveness pierced her own heart.

“I...I was a kid...” She shook her head as the tears came once again, but finally in a wave of forgiveness and relief. For the first time in either of their lives, someone understood; someone accepted them and someone understood. Dave grabbed her hand and squeezed and wept.

So soon may I follow when friendships decay
And from love's shining circle the gems drop away
When true hearts lie withered and fond ones are flown
Oh who would inhabit this bleak world alone?
This bleak world alone

Orla and Fiona stood over the two, their own eyes filled with tears; tears of intercession and concern as they tended to a pair of broken hearts that were only just now beginning to heal.

Calleigh appeared out of nowhere as the locked door opened on its own. She stepped beside the two and placed her hand gently on Orla’s shoulder. Orla turned and spoke.

“This is just the beginning, isn’t it?” Calleigh nodded with a tearful smile and said,

“Aye...just the beginning.”

At the Lambert home...that evening...

Diane folded draped the blazer over the chair and tossed her blouse in the hamper by the bathroom door. She looked over and noticed Trudy staring at her. Her face grew warm and she turned away quickly.

“What’s that all about?” Trudy wheeled her chair close and grabbed Diane’s hand.

“I...” Diane half-smiled at her before turning away once again.

“You’re...very pretty.” Trudy tugged at her slip, pulling it a bit down off her hip.

“Stop...” Diane snapped.

“No,” Trudy snapped back; an uncharacteristic tone rose in her voice.

“I won’t stop. I said you were pretty because you are. You make me feel alive...I can’t believe sometimes that you’re
in my life.” Trudy pulled at her hand softly.

“Maybe before...but now? I’m stuck between two worlds, Tru...like you got stuck with an irregular off the rack.”

“Diane.” Trudy said it emphatically, as if Diane wouldn’t recognize her own name. Her mate turned and shook her head.

“No...you don’t deserve this...you deserve...” Diane turned away and choked back a sob.

“What...a husband? I had a husband once...who turned out to be the most beautiful person I knew...the most precious woman I know...your heart is mine, dear...I love you. I don’t know how many times I can say it before you’ll believe the words. Look at me,” Trudy pulled again at Diane’s hand and Diane stood still.”

“Damn it, Diane...Look at me.” Diane turned to see Trudy’s face; a mask of anger and sadness mixed together.

“It stops now... the doubting...the questions? You’re who you are...not what they say or think...no even what I say...but what you’ve known all along, Diane Lambert! You’re my love and my life, and I will not have you running yourself down ever again, ever!” Trudy began to sob. Diane stooped down and grabbed the wheelchair arms, facing Trudy.

“Oh, dear God, I am so sorry....” Diane put her head in Trudy’s lap as her wife began to stroke her hair.

“No more, honey...If you can’t trust my words, trust my heart. I am blessed beyond measure and you have nothing to be ashamed or sorry about. I love you.... I have since we met and I will never stop believing in you. Okay?” Trudy squeezed the back of Diane’s neck as an almost punctuation to her words. Diane looked up and nodded.

“I need you...let’s go to bed.” Trudy leaned forward and kissed Diane’s head.

Quite a while later they lay side by side, nearly spent in amorous bliss. Both seemed to glow. Trudy cuddled close to Diane and began to sob. Diane turned over and held her close and kissed her breasts, returning sob with sob as they fell into each other; loving and loved as much if not more than the day they first wed. The same dear hearts and yet so different in so many ways...including one new way neither had ever anticipated.

“Diane...honey?” Trudy gasped even as her wife continued to kiss and fondle and caress. Diane paused, her hand on Trudy’s cheek, softly wiping away her tears.

“Yes?”

“I’m beginning to feel something...down there...it’s not like a touch...an aura? A warmth? I don’t know, but I think...Hold, me honey.” She continued to cry as Diane kissed her face over and over, almost in reverence.

“Honey?” Trudy spoke once again; a lilt that almost laughed.

Diane would always treasure the sound of Trudy’s voice, but that moment became a moment in time where they felt as close as they ever had. Trudy still wept, but the look of joy on her face beamed brighter as she said softly,”

“Honey....Dr. Levine called today....we’re...we’re going to be....Mommies.”

Next: A Ghra Mo Chroi (Love of My Heart)

The Last Rose of Summer
Traditional Irish Melody
Words by Thomas Moore
as performed by
Méav Ná­ Mhaolchatha
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=696zriZO-Q4