The Ranch, by Karin Bishop

Part 6

Chapter 15 — The Courtyard

“Showtime? What do you mean?”

“I mean that I chose this bench because I can see the front of the theatre and you’ve got a date waiting.” She put out a restraining hand as I got up. “Whoa, let him wait. Let’s study him for a few moments; see how he carries himself. Then you can make your grand entrance.”

I realized this was part of the ‘being in control’ part as I watched Mark. He was wearing a dark blue shirt and black slacks and looked older than he did behind the espresso stand. He looked really good.

And that caused my brain to start misfiring. Omigod! What if he’s too old for me? Or I’m too young for him? But he looked so … good!

Jackie patted my arm.

“Sweetie, you don’t have to do this. We can leave.”

“No, I …” I was torn. I turned to Jackie. “Aren’t I too young to start dating?”

“Depends. Good that you’re thinking about that, but it depends.” She nodded. “Do you know any thirteen-year-old girls that date?”

“Well, not personally, but, yeah.” I shrugged. “I mean, I didn’t really have friends I could talk about it with, but there are … Oh. I see where you’re going with this. There are girls dating at thirteen. And before you even ask, I know of girls that can’t date until they’re sixteen.”

I’d heard guys grumbling about certain girls with that restriction.

Jackie said, “It’s all a matter of maturity. When you’re ready. Some at thirteen, some at sixteen; some shouldn’t date until their twenties, they’re so immature!” She laughed at that; obviously it was about somebody she knew. “But it comes down to this. Do you want to date that boy?”

“You know I do,” I said. “And I’m terrified.”

“Terrified is normal,” she nodded again. “Of course, you’re probably doubly terrified, but just remember this, honey–nearly all girls are terrified of their first date. Otherwise they’re not really paying attention.”

I nodded, thinking it over as I looked at Mark. He looked really good. My insides did something.

“I want to date Mark,” I said.

Jackie grinned. “Okay, now it’s Showtime. And don’t worry about me. I’m off to the book store and then the spa. I’ll see you in front of the theatre at ten. Enjoy!”

And with I walked to Mark, who was trying to not be too obviously scanning the crowd. He stopped when he saw me, smiled, and walked towards me.

“Hey, I’m glad you could make it!” Then, to go along with the little sham that Jackie had set up, he said, “I mean …Hey, Laurie, what a surprise meeting you here!”

We both laughed and I said, “Yeah, but I hear the coffee’s not very good.”

He chuckled and said, “Actually, we use the same beans. But thanks.”

I looked at the marquee and the hundreds of movies that seemed to be playing. Mark asked, “What did you plan to see?”

“Actually, I didn’t plan to see anything. We thought we’d see Mom today and be back home right now. But …it didn’t work out that way. So I’m here, and you’re here, and,” I looked at the movie list, “it’s all so …I don’t know ...”

He said gently, “You don’t have to go to the movies with me.”

I realized what he meant and corrected him. “You mean, we don’t have to go to the movies.”

It took a brief moment to sink in, then he grinned hugely. “Fine with me! Um …so what should we do?”

“We could …” What were Jackie’s words? “Walk around. You know; just chatting, getting to know each other.”

This brought a smile. “That sounds great! Oh …but isn’t your aunt expecting you to be at the movies?”

And he was considerate, too! “Actually, she expects me to be in front of the theatre at ten. Other than that, well …”

He bowed slightly and held out a hand, palm up, like an usher. “In that case, would you care to lead the way?”

I led us back into the mall, and was amazed at how Jackie’s advice about ‘being in control’ really worked. I had taken the initiative and he was more than happy to follow. Actually, not follow, since he was walking next to me. I was surprised by his height; he was nearly a head taller than me. It made sense, since he was older–and a guy–but somehow his height hadn’t registered when he was at the espresso stand.

We chatted about mall preferences. Neither of us had shopping to do, so we could look at windows and people around us and make small talk. I’d realized that I’d need to find out some information from him before revealing potentially embarrassing info about myself, so I asked him where he went to school.

Fortunately, he went to school on the other side of town from where I’d lived with Mom, in a completely different school district. I’d been worried that he’d know someone or something about ‘some guy named Laurence Jamison who was in a fire’ and put two and two together. I told him my full name was Lauren Kenyon, which matched Mom’s name at the hospital if he checked. And why not? Okay, I realized that if I said it fast it kind of sounded like that place in LA, Laurel Canyon, but if I was going to be my mother’s daughter instead of my father’s son, I wanted her name. I’d have to discuss this with Jackie, and see about getting my school records changed with Miz B.

So Mark couldn’t be expected to know anything about a non-existent girl named Lauren Kenyon, a freshman at a school out of his district across town, and I felt safe. It would also explain why I wasn’t familiar with this part of the town, although I’d been to this mall before, years ago.

He was smart, funny, and kind. I found this out because he wouldn’t ridicule some of the obvious bozos–every mall had them–and we just walked along, talking about …what’s that line from The Hitchhiker’s Guide to The Galaxy? We talked about ‘Life, the Universe, and Everything.’ I found out that he was going to be a senior but would be doing a program for college credits and could get an AA degree before entering college. He named several schools he wanted to go to; some I’d heard of, like Stanford, and others were unknown to me.

It turned out that his uncle had been a lawyer, very successful and very stressed. After his second heart attack he quit law and followed his dream–to own an espresso stand. It was so successful that he now had three around the city and was still growing. Mark worked part-time at them and had discovered that he was interested in the world of coffee.

He asked about my college plans. I told him that everything was in limbo because of the fire and Mom, but that I had been interested in psychology in an undefined sort of way, but now with my experience on the ranch, I was thinking about the resort industry.

“Not a vet? Your aunt said you were great with horses. I thought all girls loved horses.”

“Some do,” I left it hanging, since I sort of hadn’t been a girl until recently. “And my Uncle Carl says I have a true gift. I don’t know; I guess it’s true. But it’s more than horses. The whole thing of getting the ranch prepared, thinking of what our guests would need, want, and not even know that they need or want, to have things ready for them even better than they planned …it’s really interesting. Setting up the reservation system for Aunt Jackie. Just the whole …focus of it.”

He nodded. “Sounds like you’d really do well looking into the hotel industry schools. It’s not all concierges and bellhops; they have concentrations on resort and vacation management.”

“How do you know that?”

“My mom worked in personnel at the Sheraton for a long time. My dad’s a college professor–Economics–so talk around the house kind of centered on hotels and business colleges.”

It was my turn to nod. “Then I’ll consider it a solid lead,” I grinned. “Thank you. No, I really mean it; thank you, because …well …” I fell silent. He let me walk without saying anything. Finally I said, “See, since the fire, everything’s changed. I’m not living across town with Mom–she’s a teacher, too, by the way. I’m living out in the wilds on a working dude ranch. I didn’t finish my school year with my class; I had a sort of ‘circuit tutor’ a couple of times a week, so I guess it was a form of home schooling. And from what the docs have said so far, things may stay exactly the same for the future.”

He nodded and we walked on. To lighten the mood, if I noticed him looking at something in a store window, I’d ask if he wanted to go in, and when he said no, what had caught his fancy. For instance, we passed Brookstone, the gadget store, and he momentarily hesitated. I asked him what he’d seen, and it was a $30 gadget that checked your tire pressure.

Shaking his head, Mark said, “You know, you can get one of the tire gauges for a couple of bucks.”

“Well, yeah–but this one’s digital,” I said in a breathy ‘oh-wow’ voice, egging him on.

He grinned. “Doesn’t matter. Thirty-two pounds is thirty-two pounds, whether it’s digital, analog, or whatever. The point is, you still have to get out of your car, squat down, undo the cap, and stick the gadget on the valve stem. Now, if they could eliminate all that, I might pay thirty bucks.”

I laughed and had to agree. The night was like that; we’d pass a store window of girls’ fashions, and I’d say, “What looks good to you?” He didn’t try to snow me with lines like, “Whatever you’re wearing”. Instead, he’d give his opinion. He’d do the same to me, asking which outfit I’d pick out if I could pick one. This went on as we walked and came to a mega-bookstore–this one we went in. We started finding out what we liked to read; we’d both done the Harry Potter and Dark Materials books, some of the tech thrillers and ‘urban vampire’ novels.

Then Mark surprised me. He pointed out a book he was currently reading, about South American politics. It was clustered on display with similar political titles.

“So what do you want to be when you grow up? A politician?” I joked.

He shuddered. “God, no! It’s just …well, I was always kind of interested in psychology, too, until I discovered coffee.”

“And …? What? You can’t sleep anymore?”

He chuckled. “Oddly enough, I never had a problem with caffeine. No, it’s the whole …well, the politics of coffee. See, the beans are produced by very poor people, and the profits are huge for companies that are already wealthy. The inequity has led to campaigns for ‘free market’ coffee and …I’m lecturing.”

“No, no; I’m interested.” And I was.

“Well, the thing about coffee is that it’s a few cents worth of beans infused with water. The bulk is water–which is a whole separate issue, in terms of the environment–and yet the few cents of beans are sold for three or four dollars. By me. And, of course, lots and lots of others. But the people who actually harvest the bean get screwed; they barely get pennies. So I’d like to help balance the situation.”

He went on to tell me of various proposals for this, while all the time checking that I wanted to hear it. I did, but I realized it wasn’t because I was fascinated about coffee beans, but I really liked seeing him enthusiastic and talking …and I really liked watching him. And, um …I think I guessed where things were headed.

I think he recognized it, too, because he kind of shook himself and pointed out a best seller and we were off and talking about that book and other things. Then he said he wanted to show me something and led me out of the bookstore and back into the mall. I felt differently walking with him than I had when we first were in the mall. I figured it was because I’d learned more about him. It wasn’t me walking along next to a strange guy in a mall full of strangers. It was us walking along, Mark and me, Mark and Laurie, together. Anyway, I felt …closer.

Mark led me to an area where the mall was expanding; it still smelled of paint and dry wall. There was a huge glass wall with doors at one end, with new stores on either side in various stages of preparation. Once through the doors, we were in a lovely courtyard with flagstones instead of pavement, and a non-functioning fountain in the center. There were rough-cut stone benches scattered here and there, and a quaint hut like a hunter’s cabin at one end. We headed to the cabin, and I discovered that it was going to be an espresso stand–but not just any espresso stand.

“My uncle heard about this courtyard and got in early, so they incorporated us into the design. It won’t be open for another two months or so, but it should do really well.”

It seemed that Mark’s uncle was building a mini-empire of espresso stands, and Mark was along for the ride, gladly. I was happy for him and told him so. He said he’d wanted me to see it, because the next time I came to the city to see Mom it might be in operation and he’d like me to know where to find him. I told him …I told him that I’d like to know where to find him. He gave me the goofiest grin, and I knew that he was very pleased.

I suddenly was aware of the cold and remembered that I was still carrying my new hoodie. Girls are used to juggling things while carrying a purse, but as I tried to get the hoodie on, I kind of got tangled up.

“Here, let me help you,” Mark offered to take my purse. I handed it to him and he slipped it over his right shoulder and reached out for the hoodie.

“A man who wears a purse. I don’t know whether to be impressed or freaked,” I joked.

“Just an essential fashion accessory,” he grinned and held my hoodie out.

I turned and put my arms through the sleeves and turned back. Something happened inside of me …maybe it was the moon, maybe it was the empty courtyard, maybe it was this boy …but I put my right hand on his cheek and stood on tiptoe and gave him a quick, dry kiss on his lips. Then I slipped my left hand around his arm and found the strap to my purse and slid it off his arm and onto mine and shrugged the purse onto my shoulder.

Mark had this blissful, stunned look. I said, “Thank you” and leaned up again and found my arms going around his neck and pulling him to me. I kissed him and said, “Thank you very much.” His lips felt warm and soft and wonderful and I wasn’t really thinking about anything. He put his arms around me and I felt safe and secure and very, very special. We kissed and kissed again, and I rocked back down onto my flat feet.

“Whoo!” I exhaled. “I’m going to have to start wearing heels around you!”

“Does that mean you’re going to be around me?” Mark asked gently.

That brought me to earth. “No …I mean, yes. I mean …You know what I mean. I …hope so. I live over two hours away and we only come in to see Mom when the hospital says she can see us. My aunt and uncle don’t have a lot of money for gas to taxi me back and forth, and the season’s opening and we’ve got so much to do …” I trailed off.

Mark nodded. “I understand.”

I put a hand on his arm. “No, you don’t, not fully. I like you, Mark. I really like you, and I’d like to see you as often as I can–if you want to see me.” I couldn’t believe the things coming out of my mouth.

“I do,” he grinned.

“But the logistics don’t work out right now. And we don’t know how long Mom is even going to be at the hospital or if they’ll transfer her, or what. It’s all up in the air. Everything’s up in the air.” I was saddened.

“I understand, Laurie, I really do,” he smiled gently and put an arm around me. “And I am only hoping for the best for your mom, and at the same time I hope they can put you up at the hospital or hotel more often. I’m really busy too, and I understand you wanting to make good to your aunt and uncle. They seem really nice.”

I had to chuckle. “Well, I had my doubts about Uncle Carl at first.” I frowned. “Their daughter …well, she died when she was about my age. Jackie’s delighted to have a teen girl to shop with, but Carl …I guess he didn’t want to go through the pain or the memories of having a kid around. I mean, not his own. But he’s warmed to me, I guess.”

“I’d say so, judging by the little I saw of the three of you the first time. You were like a family, easy and relaxed. And you were so pretty …” He corrected himself. “Are–you are so pretty!”

I blushed and had nothing I could say; I just looked down at the ground as we walked slowly back into the mall. It was nearly time to meet Jackie; I couldn’t believe how fast the time had gone. I had so much to think about, and as we passed through the doors, Mark took his arm away from me to hold the door open, and it just seemed so natural to hold his hand when we continued walking.

Part of my brain–a very small, diminishing part–was trying to point out that I was holding hands with a boy, but mostly I was amazed because I was holding hands with Mark. We’d just hit it off so well so quickly, but maybe it was for the best that I lived so far away.

We got to the front of the theatre before the movie let out, but Jackie was there already, sitting on a bench and sipping a small latte. She smiled to see us, and I had this momentary urge to let go of Mark’s hand, but Jackie had already seen us, so …

She’d been to the bookstore and then the spa and had only just arrived. I told her how we walked and talked, went to the same bookstore, and about the courtyard with Mark’s uncle’s new stand. Mark was very polite and thanked Jackie for allowing me to spend time with him, and turned to go, smiling at me and saying goodbye.

Jackie called out, “Not so fast. I’m going to go get the car; would you mind keeping an eye on Laurie?”

It was so obvious, and I loved her so much for it. There was no reason why we couldn’t both walk to the car, but she wanted to give us this last few minutes. She headed off to the parking lot and I turned to face Mark.

“So …”

He grinned. “So …”

We both smiled at each other and the smiles grew until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I leaned up and kissed him gently. “Thank you for a lovely evening. The first lovely evening I’ve had in a long, long …long time.”

“My pleasure and my honor. Now, about us …”

I raised an eyebrow.

Mark pulled out a pen and a business card for his espresso stand and wrote down all his personal contact information, cell phone, email address, and so on. I appreciated his thoughtfulness; he wasn’t demanding to know mine but was giving me the option of writing him first. I promised to do so as soon as we got our new web situation sorted out. This was true; we were adding a web site and had a more capable system and we’d all be getting new email addresses. I just didn’t tell Mark that I already had an address, but it had my old name–“ljamison”–and I didn’t want to explain Laurence Jamison.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jackie’s car rounding the parking lot so I hugged Mark and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as I said ‘bye’ and turned as Jackie pulled up. I got in and we waved as we pulled away.

Chapter 16 — Giggles and Acceptance

Jackie was nice enough to not ask anything about Mark as we drove. I asked about the bags in the back; she’d found some books, including one on resort management for me. I thanked her and wondered if that was my future–and didn’t have a problem with it.

Back at the hotel, we opened our new toiletries and as I started to change for bed, Jackie said, ‘not so fast’ and tossed me a bag. Inside was a disposable razor, cream and lotion–and my new baby-doll nightie, in a light peach color. I blushed a bit but she motioned me to the bathroom for first wash, and I dutifully obeyed.

I quickly showered and shaved slowly, as I’d learned. I wanted to be extra sleek tomorrow. After drying and moisturizing, I stood in the center of the bathroom, naked, holding out the nightie. It was so …what? Feminine? Revealing? Why did I feel kind of threatened by it? I’d recently read about Nietzsche’s line, ‘What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger’ but wondered if Nietzsche ever wore a peach baby-doll nightie. Giggling at the thought, I pulled on the panties and floated the top over me. It was next to wearing nothing at all, and I saw–and felt–my nipples harden. I glanced at the mirror and was shocked to see that my small breasts were visible through the thin fabric. Was there another part, a top or something, that I’d missed? I opened the door, my arms across my chest.

Jackie bustled in past me without even looking. “Done? Good. I’ve gotta pee. Oh, find a station you like,” she waved at the TV and closed the door.

Okay …Nothing to do right now but flop on the bed and flip through channels and wait for Jackie. I found a couple of late night talk shows with some interesting guests, and there was a rerun of Sleepless in Seattle on another channel. I had no urge to check ESPN.

Jackie came out and I started to tell her about my …problem with the flimsy top but one look at Jackie and I stared. She was wearing the exact same baby-doll nightie in a melon green! I’d forgotten that she’d bought two, and then remembered that she’d said, ‘Just us girls.’ Obviously she had something planned.

Once she was settled on her bed, nodding appreciatively at Meg Ryan on the TV, she smiled. “Now that we’re ready for bed, I’ve got some choices for you. The spa gave me a masque–and enough for two–that might be fun to try, but you’ve moisturized already and I’ve put in my time at the spa. Pass on that?”

I agreed.

She did, too. “And the hospital called me just before I got to the spa. They feel confident that Evie will be ready to see us at noon. They’re waking her sooner, running tests and so on, but promised not to tire her out. So we can sleep in a bit, have breakfast, pick up some flowers, and it all should be good.”

“That’s great! And I’ll wear the eyelet dress?”

Jackie chuckled. “You are a girl, aren’t you? Of course you can, and you’ll be beautiful. So …we go right to the good stuff. How was your night with Mark?” She actually wiggled with gleeful anticipation.

“Um …good.” I wasn’t expecting this after the silence in the car.

“Excuse me? ‘Good’? That’s it? It looked way better than good, honey,” she chuckled.

I blushed and looked down at the carpet. “It was …very good. Almost too good. I …”

“What is it, dear?” Jackie was concerned.

To delay talking about how I felt, I decided to switch subjects. “Aunt Jackie, I think part of my night gown is missing.”

“Missing? You’ve got the panties, right?”

“Yes …”

“That’s all there is, then. Panties and the top.”

“But I can …see through the top.”

Jackie burst out laughing. “Yes, and you can see through mine! That’s typical of baby-dolls!”

Almost as a reflex, I looked up at her and sure enough, there were her breasts, visible through the fabric. I blushed and looked down again, which caused Jackie to laugh all the more.

“Oh, God, Laurie, if you could see your face!” She fell back on the bed, laughing, and bounced back up. “It’s part of the girly thing. We have no secrets among us, and baby-dolls can be used to seduce our fellas. It’s okay, honey; just relax.”

My face felt on fire. “I just …I looked at myself in the mirror and saw my …”

“Breasts. Or boobs. You can say it, Laurie; you’re a girl with breasts. And quite lovely ones, too, I must say. Gonna be spectacular!”

If I was embarrassed before, this almost went past the limit. What could I say? “Thank you. And …your …yours …” which caused Jackie even more laughter.

“Oh, honey,” she wiped her eyes. “Look, I never meant to freak you out. I meant for you to have a normal kind of girl experience, but I keep forgetting that it’s all so new to you. I mean, look at you! Nobody in a million years would ever think you hadn’t been born a girl.”

It was at this point that something inside me dissolved. “Jackie …I really, really like Mark. I never felt this way before, and I felt so …so …feminine with him.”

Jackie was through laughing and had a kind smile as she nodded. “I could tell. That’s why I gave you that extra few minutes.”

“Thank you. Every minute …”

“I know, honey.”

“I knew he was a nice guy; I mean we both did. And I just thought, you know; I’d just chat with him and it would qualify as Number Five, you know? But he’s smart and kind, and could have a great future …”

“That last bit sounded more like a school counselor,” she grinned. “I think the important thing is, how did you feel when you were with him.”

“I had to be clear on ‘who I am’,” I said, crooking my fingers, “so I didn’t slip something about Laurence. But that went away pretty quickly. He’s just very …comfortable for me to talk with, to be with. We’ve read a lot of the same books, and have seen the same movies, and think about things the same, but it was more than that.”

“When did you know?”

“When I kissed him,” I said in a small voice.

“He kissed you?” she gently probed.

I wanted her to understand. “No, I kissed him. I never planned it or thought about it or anything. But I just had to reach up and kiss him. I …had to! Then he kissed me …and then we were kissing.”

“Um …where was all this? Surely not in the middle of Barnes & Noble?”

I told her about the courtyard, and Mark’s plans for the coffee growers of the world. I explained about his uncle, and about my new thoughts about a future in ranch resort management. She grinned even wider and pulled a book out of the bag and it was as she said. Well, it would give me something to read on the way home …and just might be my life’s work. I thanked her.

Jackie studied her hands for a moment. “Laurie, I’m not your mom, and Evie should be saying this, but we both know why it’s me here. So. You’re a very pretty girl, but you’re a new girl, in every way. Be careful, be cautious, but never be held back because you think of Laurence. You know that old Army slogan? ‘Be all that you can be’ and that’s about all I have to say. Other than that you should love every minute of your girlhood. And don’t lose the good guys because you’re feeling weird. Promise me that; promise me that you’ll fully enjoy your girlhood?”

“I promise. And I’m glad it’s you, although I also want this talk with Mom. I want to tell her about Mark. He is a good guy, isn’t he? I want to stay in touch with him. We both know that it’s pretty …impractical. But I think he’s special, and he …”

“He thinks you’re pretty special, too.”

We talked about the impracticalities facing us, and finally flopped into bed and lights out.

Chapter 17 — Mom and a new Doctor

We slept until nearly nine, feeling almost guilty, but Jackie reasoned it would be a long day and a long drive back to the ranch. We showered and I used some special oil for my legs that Jackie had a sample of; my legs were shiny and almost glowed. Then I dressed, and I loved how the eyelet dress fit and looked on me. Jackie just marveled at it and suggested I put together clothes for the return trip so I wouldn’t be in the dress all day. Strangely, she told me not to put on any makeup; I figured we’d freshen up at the hospital before seeing Mom. We checked out and had a small breakfast at the coffee shop near the hotel–just melon and toast–and then I noticed that Jackie had a wicked grin.

Shouting ‘Field Trip!’ she hustled me into the car and we headed back to the mall just as it was opening and she herded me to the makeup department of an upscale store and then to the Clinique chair again. As before, she whispered, “The lady we saw before was okay but I think this girl will do a better job for you. We only got your cleansing supplies before; maybe we can zero in on your look.”

The white-coated girl that came up to us was younger and hipper than the lady we’d first seen, and Jackie had her speech ready.

“My niece and I are going to meet a stodgy brother of mine at the airport, and I want her to look as grown-up as a thirteen-year-old can. I told her that she should stop sharing makeup with her girlfriends and get her own, and that Clinique is great, and she can learn how to properly apply it.”

The woman smiled graciously. “Well, you’re certainly correct on everything. And we’ve recently introduced a product line with colors and cases suitable to fashionable teens.”

She proceeded to make me up, explaining the process as she went, and I was struggling to remember everything and dealing with a little voice saying, ‘I hope Mark’s at the espresso stand and gets to see me!’ and I almost giggled, but that would have ruined the effect.

Jackie smiled approvingly at the transformation and said to the woman, “You seem to understand perfectly. Nothing too old or for the evening. Good, sensible day makeup.”

The woman said to me, “Your aunt is wise to do it this way. I don’t know what your skill level is, but if you’ve been made up by other teen girls the chances are that they put on too much, didn’t apply correctly–you see, even the order of application is important–and you would have looked like a young teenager. If the plan is to impress your uncle with your maturity, this makeup I’m applying will be very appropriate–and that dress is beautiful, by the way, and perfect for your plan.”

When she spun me to show the results, I was stunned. I’d been wearing makeup, but my efforts and even Jackie’s paled in comparison. This girl was much better than the older Clinique lady; I think it was because she was closer to my age. I looked at least eighteen, but not ‘painted.’ It was mostly smoky colors and almost a plum lipstick, but was perfect for a fashionable girl’s daywear. This time, Jackie bought the actual cosmetics, the lipstick and eyeshadow, mascara and liner. The Clinique girl was talking with Jackie about what she accentuated on my face, and I overheard her say, “And there really aren’t any negatives; she has flawless skin and wonderful bone structure.” She started talking about my ‘beautiful, liquid eyes’ as I blushed, and I thought again about seeing Mark today.

But first–I wanted to see my mother.

We arrived at the hospital and of course we walked past the espresso stand, but the barista was a girl and I felt the disappointment that Mark wouldn’t see me looking so pretty. I blushed to myself–if that’s possible–remembering his kisses, and I heard Jackie murmur, “Sorry, sweetheart.” We proceeded to Dr. Morrison’s office; he’d told Jackie the procedure in his call last night.

He thanked us for staying over and told us everything was excellent with Mom. She had come out of the induced coma clean with no confusion–or pain–and even had a bit of breakfast.

“You’ll notice a distinct improvement over the last time you were here. The torn graft was restored successfully. There is still a gauze pad over one eye but that’s mainly to protect it from infection and light; the healing is very good and she hasn’t lost any vision. She is still communicating via the speech pad but is almost ready for repair and therapy to get her talking regularly, although she really shouldn’t at this time. She’s very strong and in good spirits. I’ll take you to her right now, but please have them page me when you’re done and we’ll stop by my office on the way out.”

It was great news, but the best part of all was seeing Mom sitting up and smiling. I glanced at the doctor who smiled and nodded, and I quickly walked to Mom’s bed and had that nearly overwhelming urge to hug her but knew I shouldn’t because of grafts and pain. Dr. Morrison said, “Her right shoulder is okay,” and I put my hand on it. Mom’s one eye glistened and she croaked out, “So …be ..oo …tifoo!”

I was dissolving in tears as Dr. Morrison said, “Now, Evie, we talked about this. Use the pad, please.”

My mother gave him a fierce glare–one-half a fierce glare, of course, but fierce enough–held up one finger at him, quickly wrote something, and said to me, “I …lu—ff …you …Law …ren.” I squeezed her shoulder as she held up the pad for the doctor to see. She’d written, “Okay, I’m done talking” and we all half-sobbed and half-laughed at her. She’d rigged it so the monitor wouldn’t show her writing. Dr. Morrison grinned and said, “What did I tell you? She’s very strong! I’ll leave you now. Have me paged when you’re ready.”

“Oh, God, Mom; I’ve missed you so much!” I almost cried.

She quickly wrote on her pad, ‘Don’t cry–makeup. Who did it?’

Jackie said, “I hijacked her to the Clinique counter, Evie.”

Mom padded, ‘Good stuff. Looks great!’

“Thanks, Mom. I love you so much! I wish we could be together. Jackie’s fantastic–beyond fantastic–and Carl’s been great, too, but I want to be with you.”

Mom padded, ‘Soon. Must heal, though. Could’ve been so much worse.’

She’d underlined for emphasis. I nodded, swallowing. “Mom, if you get tired or start hurting, let us know and we’ll leave.”

She padded back, ‘Don’t you dare! I’ll never get that tired.’

Jackie and I began filling her in on what had been happening to us, and around the ranch, and asked if she had any questions for us. Mom grinned–as much as she could–and looked at Jackie, holding up five fingers and raising one eyebrow.

Jackie chuckled and held up her hand, showing all five fingers.

Mom pantomimed being startled and wrote, ‘All five, Laurie?’

I blushed and nodded. “Well, four until last night. And I really know why you told me to do those five things; I’ve learned so much about–”

She waved a hand and quickly padded, ‘Yeah-yeah-yeah. What about Last Night???’

I heard Jackie kind of stifle a laugh and I blushed. “Well, I sort of …went on a date …”

Mom quickly wrote, ‘Tell me! Tell me!’

I told her about Mark and the circumstances and she was like Jackie–she automatically knew that I’d kissed Mark. I was so embarrassed telling her, but she patted my hand and I saw a tear at the corner of her eye. I grabbed a tissue from the bedside table and dabbed as Mom wrote, ‘I love you, Sweetie. I’m so glad for you!’

Jackie added, “Did I mention she’s discovered the world of bubble baths?”

“Jackie!” I scolded.

Mom padded, ‘A must for every girl. She’s right, Laurie. Revel. Explore. Dream.’

I loved her and missed her and wanted to be reveling, exploring, and dreaming with her as my guide. Jackie was absolutely wonderful, and was my mother’s sister, but still …a girl wants her own mother.

A nurse stuck her head in and looked at me. “Lauren Jamison?”

It took me a slight moment because I’d been so careful to be ‘Laurie Kenyon’ with Mark. I nodded.

“The doctor has a few questions for you, if you don’t mind.”

I looked at Mom, who nodded her approval, like she knew what was going on. I looked at Jackie, who said, “Go ahead; I’m sure it won’t take long. If you have any problems come get me. I’ve got to talk boring old insurance stuff with your mom.”

I followed the nurse out to find Dr. Morrison standing with a pretty blonde doctor. Her hair was very nicely styled and I saw black stockings and black suede heels under her white smock. For some reason I liked her immediately.

Dr. Morrison said, “Lauren, this is Dr. Mahmoudi. I was going to tell you about her after you’re done talking with your mother, but she happened by my office and I wanted you two to meet.”

Dr. Mahmoudi smiled and held out her hand and I shook it as women do. I was confused on several levels. Was she involved with my mother’s care? And what was up with her name?

Apparently her skills included mind reading. She chuckled. “Don’t worry; I get that a lot. I was married to an Egyptian physician.”

I nodded, a little embarrassed. “Well, actually I was wondering what you do for Mom. I realize there’s probably lots of doctors that work with Mom that I haven’t met yet, and I want to thank all of them personally if I can.”

She smiled. “That’s a lovely thing to say. I don’t want to take up any more of your time and I know you want to get back to your mother. I’ll let Dr. Morrison explain things when you see him. It was a pleasure meeting you and please go back to your wonderful mother.”

Dr. Morrison smiled and nodded, and I smiled and nodded back at both of them and went back to Mom’s room. Jackie was sitting in a chair talking quietly with Mom, who was getting pretty darned fast on that pad. Mom saw me and waved and showed Jackie one last thing on the pad and then wiped it. Was I getting paranoid, or were there things I wasn’t supposed to know?

Dr. Mahmoudi was not the only mind reader. Obviously the sisters were, too. Jackie said, “Honey, what did the doctor want?” There was just …something about the way she said it.

I told them about meeting the other doctor and they exchanged a look. Mom wrote: ‘Laurie, I’ll let J do the talking. But everything comes from us.’ She’d really pressed down on the last word.

Jackie said, “Before I say anything, Lauren, promise me you won’t interrupt. You’re going to want to, but it’ll all become clear and take less time and be a lot less tiring for your mom if you let me tell you everything.”

Oh God, I thought; what was wrong with Mom? Was it even more serious than I thought? “I agree. It’ll be hard, but I agree.”

Jackie theatrically cleared her throat. “Okay then. First, the hospital knows about Laurence.”

I gasped slightly but clamped my mouth shut as I’d agreed. So Dr. Morrison knew I was a boy? I began blushing furiously but had to pay attention and not let my mind wildly speculate. Wait; there was that awkward period when they realized I wasn’t a girl. But I’d never met Dr. Morrison until much later, when Jackie and I came to visit Mom that first time.

“They knew anyway; we never told them,” Jackie explained, reading my thoughts. “Once they got your mother’s records from her old hospital it wasn’t even a matter of putting two and two together. When your mom was able to talk with them with the pad thing, she explained and authorized them to pull your records, too. I was also called and consulted, and we now have a relationship with this hospital where we each can speak for the other. You weren’t told because, well …you’re a minor, and there was no pressing medical need for you and the hospital to have any contact–other than visiting your mom, of course.”

She paused to sip from bottled water. Mom activated the monitor and flashed a note: ‘Relax, sweetie; it gets better.’

Jackie grinned. “She’s right. When the doctors first met you, they refused to believe that you were a boy, even pointedly asking if we were trying to pull some sort of hoax. And that was back when you first started as a girl! Remember that first visit? Even then they were certain you were a girl! Now there’s no way to convince them that you aren’t a girl, if they haven’t read the records.”

I raised my hand–ever the teacher’s daughter. Both ladies chuckled, and Jackie nodded for me to ask.

“Who knows?”

“Good question. There were a couple of nurses when you were first admitted; they thought you were a girl and were surprised you weren’t. There’s been no further contact with them and they may have forgotten you. So who knows the real truth about you? Dr. Morrison, obviously, since he’s in charge of your mother’s care. And now Dr. Mahmoudi and that’s probably it. Maybe somebody may have run across something about a son in your mother’s files, but as I said, it’s not something that would come up with you visiting your mom. They’d just chalk it up to an older son somewhere else who hasn’t shown up yet.”

I raised my hand again, and on Jackie’s nod, said, “One more thing. Who is Dr. Mahmoudi?”

“Oh, they didn’t tell you?” Jackie was surprised. “Okay, here’s the part that your mom said gets better. This hospital has a gender clinic, specializing in transgender patients. Because that’s what you are, you know, transgender. But not a patient–yet. It’s a very small and expensive clinic, but Dr. Morrison notified Dr. Mahmoudi–apparently she’d been away for some time–and that’s why you met her. Actually, you and I are going to Dr. Morrison’s office after your mom goes to sleep, and he was going to tell you about his offer and tell you about Mahmoudi but I guess they rushed things. So we’ll go find out what he wants to do.”

“I’m confused; what does this have to do with Mom?”

The sisters looked at each other. Jackie said, “Nothing, really, other than it was her records that tipped them off that you had been born male. This is a wholly separate issue and concerns only you, not your mother’s care.”

“So Mom is doing better? Dr. Mahmoudi’s not a special doctor that Mom needs?”

Mom padded, “I’m doing great! Dr. M is for you, Laurie.”

I loved seeing my new name in my mother’s writing, even if it was a little distorted by the pad.

Jackie said, “We’ll let Dr. Morrison explain, okay, honey?”

“Well …” I thought for a moment. “Let’s hear what he has to say, but right now I just want to spend time with my mother.”

Jackie smiled and nodded, and Mom’s screen showed: ‘And me with my beautiful daughter.’

That reminded me. “Mom, Jackie, I’ve been thinking about something and I want to discuss it with you. I want to change my name.”

The sisters exchanged a look; Jackie said, “Now, honey …” as Mom quickly wrote, ‘What’s wrong with it?’

I chuckled. “Nothing, no; you don’t understand. I love being Lauren, and Laurie, and will always be Lauren. I …I want to drop the Jamison and be Kenyon.” I gave my mother the warmest look I could. “I want to be Lauren Kenyon, the daughter of Eve Kenyon.”

Mom’s one eye glistened. She looked at me for a few moments and I grabbed a tissue and dabbed at the tear just as it started to roll.

Jackie sniffed. “That’s one of the most wonderful things I’ve ever heard!”

Mom padded, ‘Yes yes yes YES! Laurie I love you so much!!!’

“I love you, too, Mom,” I started to tear up.

Jackie added what was known but unsaid. “And no more connection with Mr. Jamison, thank you very much.”

I had my hand on Mom’s shoulder, trying to will as much love through my hand into her as I could. “So it’s okay? I can be Lauren Kenyon?”

Mom banged on the pad; she hadn’t cleared the ‘yeses’ she’d written. The she cleared it and I saw a grin as she wrote, ‘Absolutely, Miss Kenyon.’

That made Jackie and I laugh. Then Mom wrote, ‘J–can you start ball rolling w/hospital?’

Jackie nodded. “It’ll be something we talk about with Dr. Morrison. But you’ve got to tell …Miss Kenyon how you feel about …the plan.”

Mom wrote. ‘Good idea. Laurie, one last thing–I know what Drs. M & M are thinking. You must know that I agree with them. OK? Can’t explain now, but I–”

There was a little pinging sound and Mom glared at a machine on the wall. She frantically cleared her screen and wrote: ‘I support my beautiful daughter. OK?’

“Okay,” I said and went to touch and kiss her but she was furiously writing: ‘Damn machine timer shooting sleep meds dont want to go I love you Lauri’ and her eyelids fluttered and the stylus dropped as she instantly fell asleep.

We stared at Mom as a nurse came in and stilled the machine. She smiled ruefully. “I’m sorry, but she wouldn’t have wanted you to go and I could see by her vitals that she was tiring. It’s really for the best, and you got more time than her doctors wanted.”

Jackie and I looked at her and then at each other, stunned. Jackie said, “Well, I guess that’s the end of visiting hours …”

End of Part 6