One Cold Christmas Eve

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One Cold Christmas Eve...

One cold Christmas Eve morning, I lay in my bed, curling my toes and relishing in the warmth of my blankets...

I wiggled my toes again, and giggled. Even though I couldn’t see them under the covers, I relished the fact they were now adorned with purple nail polish that had a layer of sparkles overtop.

As much as I was relishing the warmth of my blankets, I knew I would have to get out of bed soon and face my day, but I closed my eyes and tried to pretend otherwise until my alarm went off and ended my daydreaming.

I got out of bed, stretched, and rummaged through my drawers for an outfit for the day. Since I had to work, my choices were somewhat limited, so it didnt take long to find what I needed - white blouse and black slacks, with the only real feminine touch a pair of nylons, and get dressed.

I came downstairs to see my mother in her best Christmas outfit, a green sparkly dress that always reminded me of a Christmas tree, hurriedly making a meal for her dog.

“I’m glad you got up before I left. Your aunt Terry called, and wants me to come over for a Christmas dinner tonight. Will you be okay alone?”

“Yeah. I’m working out at the construction site tonight, I’ve written down the address and phone there in case you need it.”

“The construction site again? You were supposed to rotate to doing front desk at the diabetes clinic, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, but ever since I told my bosses I’m transitioning, I’ve been kept as far from the public eye as possible. Afraid I might upset someone, I guess.”

“I’m sorry, dear. but at least you still have the job,that’s something.”

“True that. Have fun at Terry’s”

“Thanks, sweetie.” She gave me a kiss, grabbed her purse, and ran out the door.

I puttered around for awhile, then started making something to eat for myself. Not being the world’s greatest cook, I made mac and cheese, to which I added a can of peas and a cut-up sausage.

Once I finished cooking, I ate a portion of what I made, and put the rest in a container to take to work with me. I put it into a bag I take with me, I carry my lunch, a bottle of pop, a book, a set of plastic utensils, a pen, a notepad, a mini flashlight, and a couple of candy bars to help keep me awake through the night.

Add a pocket for my wallet and keys, and its a purse.

I grabbed a sweater, my coat, my hat, a pair of pink gloves, and step into my boots, and felt as ready to take on the night as I was likely to, and so took off to my car for the quiet drive there.

As always, there is no one on site when I get there, so I just get the key out of the little box they leave it in for me, and go inside the trailer that I use as my base of operations through the night.

Its split into two main areas - a room with a desk, light, phone, chair, a radio, and my log book, and a break room with a table, some chairs, a microwave, a small fridge, and a water cooler. Behind that room is a washroom, so at least I dont have to run to an outhouse, like on some sites. I put my lunch in the fridge and go into the other room to set myself up for the shift, signing into the logbook, and then decide to take a quick patrol before I get too comfortable so I know what I’m dealing with.

Patrolling the site takes about ten minutes, and it seems clear, so I went back to trailer and write in the logbook, and then turned on the small radio. I’m expected to do a patrol once an hour, and the rest of the time I’m allowed to sit in the office and just keep my eyes open, so I have plenty of time to listen, to read, or just think,

Sometimes, I think I think too much.

It was because of all the time I’ve had to think that I finally realized I had to do something about my gender issues before they killed me, and so went to a gender doctor to see what I could learn.

That led me to telling my bosses I wanted to transition, and that led me to being stuck out on the most obscure site they had a contract for, with no idea when or even if I would ever be accepted enough to be exposed to the public.

The radio played a local station that ran old radio shows from the 30’s, 40’s, and 50’s, so I spent my night listening to such shows as “My Favorite Husband” starring Lucille Ball, and “The Life of
Riely, as well as Orson Welles doing a radio show called “The Dark Tower” that was about crimes for which the evidence was now locked up in the Tower of London, and a rotation of adventure/science fiction/horror serials.

I read my book, which tonight was “Dune”, which, like most of my collection, I’ve read a number of times, but still liked, which was good because I couldnt afford to replace them.

Thinking of that only worried me about how the heck I was ever going to afford hormones.

About midnight, I did another patrol, taking my flashlight and taking the reverse of the the route I used on my first patrol.

Thieves love guards who always have the same routine, or so I’ve been told.

I came back to the office, wrote more in my logbook, and was just about to settle in when I saw a set of headlights headed toward me.

I put back on my coat, and went out, and then realized it was my mother’s car. just as she got out and handed me a plastic bag with a plate inside.

“I... brought you some leftovers from the diner. Merry Christmas, sweetie.”

“Thanks, mom. I’d ask you in, but I’m not allowed to have anyone here.”

“Its okay. I’m going home to bed. I just wanted to give you this, and tell you I’m proud of you. Telling everyone you felt like a girl, and wanted to transition was incredibly brave. You’re the best .... daughter a mother could hope for.”

Tears streamed down my face as I said, “Thanks, mom. I love you.”

We hugged, and then she got back in her car and drove off, and I went back inside with my plate of goodies.

The rest of the night passed quietly, I did my patrols, ate my goodies at about 3 A.M, and finished my book.

I was finishing my last entry in my logbook when the phone rang.

Curious, I answered, and it was my supervisor.

“Don..... Donna? Its Mike. Can you find time to come to the office on Tuesday?”

“Are... are you guys firing me?”

“No. Actually the reverse. We’ve been trading emails about you with head office. We’d like to offer you a job in the office, if you want it.”

“Work indoors, as opposed to freezing my butt off? Sure. But what about ... the girl thing?”

“Come in wearing a skirt, if you want, or ladies dress pants if that’s more comfortable. We’ll figure out the details as we go.”

“I will. See you Tuesday, and thank you!”

“You’re welcome. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”

I hung up the phone, and got my stuff together to leave. Once outside, I looked up at the still dark sky with its hundreds of stars twinkling, and wept.

“A merry Christmas, indeed.”



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