Billie

Billie

By Karen J. Taylor

Copyright 2009/2012 by Karen J. Taylor
This story is based in part on something that happened to my brother, I added the TG plotline.
Thanks to John in Wauwatosa and PB for their assistance, as always what is posted is my decision.

I paused eating to watch the girls, well some young and some not-so-young women as they buzzed around taking care of the morning rush. One saw me watching and flashed a quick smile before grabbing the next order from the counter to hand out the drive-thru window. Almost everybody knew me, I was there every morning. Either stopping by on the way to work for a sausage & egg biscuit or stopping in and eating scrambled eggs and hash browns when I wasn’t working.

There really wasn’t any point to coming in every day, after six months I knew she wasn’t coming back. I’d long since given up any hope, but I was stuck in a rut by then and had no reason to change.

I’d first seen Billie late last summer, another new face behind the counter as the crop of new hires from the college took over from the departing summer job high school students. She stood out from the rest, her face told me she was older than I’d first thought, even though she had the trim body of a teenager.

I liked that, she cared enough to stay in shape, not that I had any room to talk. She was slender, with small but well proportioned breasts and a firm, taut ass. Others can have the girls with the large breasts and prominent rear ends. I’d seen enough of how those figures did not age gracefully to appreciate how much better the less-endowed girls had it in the long run.

On subsequent visits we engaged in some small talk and mild banter, nothing momentous but she always had a smile for me. One morning as I was leaving I turned around to take a last look before leaving and saw she had also turned to watch me. We shared embarrassed smiles then she winked at me!

This level continued for several months, in which time I noticed that the other counter people would step back whenever I came in and let her wait on me. One day when she wasn’t around the asst. manager told me to hang on a sec; she walked into the back and in a moment Billie came running out.

“You didn’t have to run on my account,” I told her.

“I didn’t want you to leave,” she replied, and then turned a bright red.

Sadly that was one of my work days so I had to grab my stuff and go. But I puzzled out every possible meaning for what she said, and then wondered if I was being a fool. She had to be years younger than me, I know what I saw, a pretty young woman of 25 to 35 years of age. But I was on the wrong side of 50 and had been for several years, I had no illusions about how I looked.

Things finally came to a head just before Christmas. I stopped in just before heading out for a family Christmas down south to wish her a Merry Christmas and let her know I’d come in as soon as I came back.

Billie was taking a break with one of the other women, but jumped up as soon as I came in.

“Hi! Come for breakfast?”

“I, uh, just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas,” I told her. Gee, what a romantic guy I am, huh?

She stammered a bit and then told me to wait. She then rushed into the back and came out a few minutes later. Running up to me she held a candy cane which she attempted to hang somewhere on my clothes before finally opening my coat and tucking it in my pocket.

She then closed my coat and straightened it out, brushing it smooth with her hands before looking at me with a bit of an embarrassed look on her face, as if she was afraid she’d gone too far.

Looking at her looking up at me, I did the most natural thing. I reached out and took her shoulders, drawing her up to me and kissing her. At first she seemed to enjoy it, her hands found their way to my waist and things were starting to get very interesting. But then she broke away and looked at me strangely, before running off into the storeroom.

I waited for a bit, but she didn’t come out so I finally got into my truck and hit the road. But first I hung the candy cane from my mirror, like a symbol. I couldn’t wait to get my trip over with and come back to town.

I cut the family visit as short as I dared, driving back home the afternoon of Christmas Day. I went to bed early so I could arrive at the store the first thing in the morning. I was determined that Billie and I meet when she wasn’t working so we could have a chance to talk.

But she wasn’t there. I came every morning the next several days, looking around hopefully but there was no sign of her. I finally started asking where she was, only to encounter a blank wall from everybody.

Suddenly, everybody seemed to have developed amnesia. When no one would admit to even knowing a “Billie”, I tried describing her with no more success. The manager finally told me “She’s gone” but wouldn’t say anything else. I couldn’t understand what could have happened. Could I have been so wrong?

I still went in everyday for breakfast, but it was no longer the highpoint of my day. Occasionally I’d look around, just in case, but after several months I’d given up hope.

I turned my attention back to my newspaper, turning the page while I reached over for my coffee. A soft “Hi” startled me so badly I knocked my coffee over, spilling it all over the table. I jumped up to keep it out of my lap, and came face to face with Billie.

“Oh, I’m sorry, wait here . . . “ and she turned towards the kitchen, with me right behind her.

She grabbed some rags and turned around, bumping into me. I had to grab her to keep her from falling over.

“You didn’t need to get up,” she apologized.

“Yes, I did. The last time you walked away from I didn’t see you for six months,” I told her. “I didn’t want you to run away again.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess I need to talk to you about that.”

“Have a seat,” I said, motioning to the booth.

“Could we, ah, go somewhere more private?”

“Sure, that’s fine by me. Do you have a car?”

“No, I rode my bicycle.”

“We can go sit in my pick-up, is that okay?”

She nodded in answer and I waved my arm in a flourish towards the door. “After you, m’lady.”

When we got to my truck I unlocked it and held the door for her, then quickly ran around and hopped in behind the wheel. After starting it and turning on the air conditioner, I turned to her.

“Well?”

“I, uh . . . I’m not sure where to start.”

“How about telling me where you’ve been for the last six months?”

“No, that’s the end of the story, I need to start at the beginning.”

“Then start, I’m listening,” I replied.

“Promise you won’t get mad and hi . . . “ her voice trailed off.

“Hit you? I’m not that kind of guy, I don’t hit women!”

“Promise! Please?”

“I promise, now what is it?”

“Uh . . . I . . . my name isn’t really Billie. Well, it is, but it wasn’t always . . .”

“Let me guess, you’re in the Witness Protection Program, on the run from the Mob,” I cracked.

“No . . . I . . . when I was born, my parents named me William. William David.”

“What! You’re a guy? No way!”

“I’m transsexual, I’m a girl born in a boy’s body.”

“You’re kidding me, right? This is some kind of a joke . . . “ I ran down at that point, seeing the look on her face. “You’re not joking.”

“No. Growing up, I knew I should have been a girl, but nobody would listen to me. When I turned eighteen, I told my family I was going to be the girl I should have been and they kicked me out.”

She looked at me in fear; I didn’t know what to say, so I motioned for her to continue.

“I’ve been seeing a doctor, a psychiatrist, for four years and I’ve been living as a girl for two.”

“But you’re a guy?”

“No, I never was a guy, I just had guy bits.”

“But, you . . . “ and I waved my hand at her figure. The short-sleeved blouse she had on showed some nice cleavage, and her tight pants couldn’t have hidden a penny.

“No, not anymore. When I turned 25 this spring I got an inheritance from my grandmother, and I used it to pay for my surgery. That’s where I’ve been, in Thailand. It’s cheaper there.”

“And you . . .” I ran down, I didn’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry, Mark, I didn’t mean to deceive you. You’re such a nice man, and then I started falling for you, and I could tell you were falling for me, I wanted to be honest with you, but I was afraid I’d lose you . . .”

“And you . . .”

“I knew I was in love with you, and I couldn’t live a lie. I got the surgery as quick as I could, and I’ve been healing since I got back.”

I was in shock, I couldn’t grasp what she was saying.

“Mark, say something. How do you feel about this, about us, maybe . . .”

I just shook my head, my thoughts all jumbled. I didn’t know what to say or how to say it.

She must have seen something in my face, her shoulders dropped. As she opened the door, she quietly spoke, “I’m sorry, I guess I’d better be going.”

She closed the door and walked over to a bicycle chained up in the rack. As she unlocked it she looked back and gave me a small wave bye, I could see she was crying. I couldn’t believe she was a guy, all I saw was the attractive young woman I’d fallen for. I backed out and pulled up next to her as she got ready to pedal off.

“Let me give you a ride home, it’s already hot today. I can put your bike in the back.” I told her.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, come-on, hop in.” I ran around and popped the tailgate open, sliding her bike in and closing it back up as she got back in.

I turned left out of the parking lot as she pointed to the right.

“I’m that way.”

“Okay, something I’ve got to do first.” I could see fear in her eyes so I reassured her, “Don’t worry, it’s alright. Trust me.”

A few blocks down I turned into a housing addition and drove to the end of the street before pulling into the driveway of a modest one story ranch-style house with two-car garage. I put the truck in park and looked at her.

“Where are we?” she asked. “You said you’d take me home.”

“I did,” I replied. “This is my home. Yours too, if you want.”

“I . . . I . . .” and she broke down crying. I unsnapped our seatbelts and pulled her into a hug.

After the sobbing finally slowed and the tears trickled to a stop she spoke, her voice muffled from where her head was still buried against my shoulder.

“I was so afraid you’d hate me, I was scared . .”

“Shush, it’s alright, baby. I don’t know this other person, this ‘William’ you mentioned. All I know is Billie, the girl I’ve fallen in love with.” With that I tipped her chin up and softly kissed her lips.

“Now, m’lady, would you like to go and see your new home? I’m afraid it’s kind of a mess.”

“OUR home, you mean, and I don’t care how messy it is, as long as you’re there.”

I kissed her again, then walked around to open her door so I could take her into our home.

The End


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