"I can't believe you," Christina said as she shook her head. "You're so disgusted that you went through all this just to make sure no one in Oak Grove found out about me."

"Is that what you really think?" Richard said with a mix of hurt and anger.

"Why else, then?"

"If I was so ashamed, do you really think I would have told all of my business partners?" he shot back. "Why do you think I cashed in every last favor I had with them to convince them to keep up this charade against their best instincts?"

Christina shook her head. She didn't want to listen to a word he was saying. She eventually asked, "Why?"
 

by Admiral Krunch

---

 
Chapter 51

 

        The hospital room glowed faintly, like the coils of a toaster that had just started to warm. The sun had yet to peek over the horizon, but it was just that moment of the new day where light shimmied over the edge of the world. The glow seemed to not come from the window, but rather from the cabinets, the wheeled dining tray, the hospital bed, and every other object. That quality of the light would only last for a few more moments before the sun would finally make itself known.

        It was in those moments that Christina Chase woke up. She'd waked several times during the night, but this was the first time she'd become aware of her surroundings now that her fever had cooled and her mind was unclouded. She remembered everything, though her strange conversations with her uncle seemed more like memories of distant dreams than real events. Looking around the hospital room, she knew that they must have been real. At least the morning's ambient light made the room feel inviting, though it would revert to its stark reality as soon as the moment passed.

        Christina looked at the pouch of fluid above her that was suspended by curled hook on a metal pole. She followed the tube from the pouch all the way down to her arm. On her right side she saw some equipment that displayed digits that conveyed no meaning to her. These devices seemed to constantly make odd chirping noises that similarly had no meaning for the girl. On her left she saw a hulk of a man crammed into wooden chair that was clearly not designed to hold his girth. His head leaned against the wall and rose and fell in time with his slow and deep breaths. It seemed a night of keeping her company had taken its toll, and now Alek was resting as best as he could given the circumstances.

        In retrospect, the thoughts that Christina'd had and the things she'd said in her fever state made little sense, but she recalled how her uncle had soothed her back to sleep each time. For the first time, Christina was alone in the hospital, and the weight of the situation was dawning on her.

        Something had happened; something really bad. She remembered what had happened in the store and she remembered the last person she saw before she came to the hospital. There had been a dam in Christina's mind that kept all of her memories of Anastasia at bay, but that barrier had come crashing down when their eyes met. She could remember all the dreams which once were just out of reach of her waking mind.

        Christina looked down at herself as the truth of it all began to set in. She was dressed in a flimsy hospital gown that seemed to invite every draft even though she was bundled under three hospital blankets. Each blanket was plain white with three horizontal blue stripes near the top edge. While they were much thicker than the gown, each blanket felt as insubstantial as a hand towel. They covered Christina's body up to her neck, but beyond providing a sense of modesty, they didn't do much.

        Christina moved her hands under the blankets. She stopped at first as she felt the stabbing pain from her right side. Not wanting to invite that feeling again, Christina kept her right arm still as she struck out again with the left. She moved her arm to her chest and felt that her breast forms had been removed. Her chest was flat, not that it was immediately visible under the blankets. Christina had always worn very small breast forms that were a natural match for her thin frame. Even though it wasn't immediately obvious that she was flat-chested under the several blankets, Christina could feel the difference on her chest, and it felt unnatural.

        Next she reached between her legs and found that her genitals were not hidden by her gaff. Someone had stripped her naked; more naked and exposed than just her clothes. They knew. They all knew. After all this time her charade had come to an end, but somehow it didn't feel like a charade; it felt like her existence had come to an end. A single tear escaped the corner of Christina's eye. It traced the curvature of her cheek and collected on the edge of her jaw line. The single droplet fell on to the bed sheets, leaving a trail that several other tears would follow.

        Christina didn't sob or even make a noise, she simply cried one tear after another. At long last the game was at its end and there was nothing she could do to make it not so. The girl inhaled through her nose, which had become congested over the course of her crying. Though it did not make a loud noise, it was enough to cause Alek to flinch instinctively in his sleep.

        Seeing this, Christina's gaze fixed upon her sleeping uncle. She wished she was anywhere but in the hospital bed. She wished her uncle did not know the truth. Most of all, Christina wished that he would stay asleep just a moment longer.

        The sun peeked over the side of the mountain and the room lost its glow. The soft light gave way to the harsher beams of daybreak and the hospital room again became white and sterile. The light, combined with the faintest of noises of Christina's tears caused Alek to slowly open his eyes.

        Alek winced as he sat up straight. The back muscles that had held him in place all night were reluctant to release, and his entire back felt sore as a result. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand as his eyes focused on the room. He saw that his niece was awake, looking at him distraughtly with tears in her eyes.

        "Tina?" he asked, "What is wrong?"

        "I'm so sorry," she apologized. "I should have told you, but I didn't know how ... I know you can never forgive me."

        "Tina," the man repeated as he placed his hand on the girl's head. He expected that she was still delirious from her fever, but as near as he could tell she had cooled down. "You are not making any sense."

        "It doesn't make any sense," Christina asserted as fresh tears came. "I don't know why I let it go on for so long. I don't know why I'm like this, but I'm so very sorry."

        "You do not have to apologize," Alek consoled. "You could not control what happened. You were very ill, there was nothing you could do, but you will soon be better."

        "Better?" Christina asked.

        "Your appendix," Alek clarified. He made a motion by joining his hand then separating them in a wave. "It burst. You became very sick and you needed an operation."

        Christina focused on the stabbing pain on her right side. She could feel the tug of the edges of stitches catching on the fabric of her hospital gown. The pain in her side had been the furthest thing in her mind, but Christina slowly began to realize that it was the only thing her uncle was talking about.

        "It is not your fault Tina. You could not help becoming sick. The fault is mine for leaving you on your own."

        "On my own?" Christina repeated. "All I remember is that you were here. You never left me alone."

        Alek wiped the tears from Christina's cheeks with his thick thumb. "I never will," the man promised.

        It slowly started to sink in. It seemed as though Alek did not know what she was under the hospital blankets? Was that possible? Judging by the concern on the man's face, Christina deduced that he either did not know or had no care for anything other than her well being.

        "I'm sorry," Christina whispered again.

        "That is the last time you are to say those words," Alek admonished. "You are to save your strength and you are not to apologize for things you cannot control."

        Christina whispered, "Yes sir," in response. She wasn't sure exactly what was happening, but she didn't want to tempt fate any more than she obviously had. She also did not want to give her uncle any cause to despise her.

        "I see the patient is awake," said a voice coming from the doorway.

        Alek and Christina looked to see Doctor Redinger, who looked like he'd slept more solid hours the previous night than Alek or Christina put together. Christina did not recognize the man, but gather from the white coat that this man was a doctor.

        Addressing Alek, the doctor added, "And I see you've spent the night in one of our least comfortable chairs."

        Alek did not respond other than to move his left shoulder in its socket, an activity that made the man grimace.

        Doctor Redinger made an exaggerated motion has he felt the front pocket of his lab coat. "You know, I meant to bring cup of coffee," he said to the man. "I bet you could use something to perk you up."

        "I am fine," Alek insisted, though his stiffness betrayed him.

        "Just some free medical advice, there's a coffee machine on the floor below us, and a bit of caffeine and a long walk would make you feel better." He looked at the girl on the bed adding, "Also, I need to examine my new patient, and I think she might appreciate a few moments of privacy. That is, unless you're not too shy."

        Christina face went flush as though the fever had returned. "Uncle Alek," she asked, "I think maybe I could use a minute or two. I don't want you to see ... um ..."

        "Of course, Tina," Alek said as he rose. "I will be back in a little while."

        "Thank you," Christina said to the man as he made his way out the door.

        After Alek had left, Doctor Redinger closed the door to the room, then returned to his charge. Ignoring the mass of machinery beside the bed, he took Christina's wrist in one had to monitor her pulse and felt her forehead with another. "You've had quite a night," he observed.

        "I guess so," Christina answered, somewhat unsure if she trusted the man.

        "I'm bad at introductions," he apologized. "My name is Doctor Jerrold Redinger. You were brought in yesterday with a ruptured appendix. I performed the operation to remove it."

        "Your voice sounds familiar," Christina said. "Do I know you?"

        "I think we have a friend in common," he said as he released Christina's wrist and moved his hands to the blankets on her chest. "May I?" he asked.

        Christina's only answer was to turn her head to the side to avert his gaze.

        Taking this as an act of consent, the man pulled the blankets down to Christina's waist. He then raised a portion of her gown to expose a large gauze pad that had been taped to her abdomen. The prickly edges of stitches poked the gauze upward so that the shape of the incision appeared as a stained ridge. He slowly pulled the tape back from one edge of the pad causing Christina to grit her teeth. He took a peek underneath then gently pressed the tape back into place.

        After the inspection, the doctor replaced the gown and then the blankets. "It looks like things are progressing," he said matter-of-factly. "No sign of infection, though you're not going anywhere for quite a while."

        Something in the man's voice sounded very familiar, and then it hit her. "Jerry," she said. "You're Richard's Doctor Jerry."

        "That is correct," he answered. "But for now, I'm going to be your Doctor Jerry. It's good to finally meet you Christina, though I wish I could say the circumstances were better."

        Christina turned her head back to meet the man. She studied his face to determine if he was playing with her. As near as she could tell, he seemed sincere.

        "As I said, your appendix had ruptured when you were brought in. We spent some time removing the material from your abdominal cavity, but we weren't able to prevent the inner lining of your abdomen from becoming inflamed."

        "You mean the big ouch," Christina clarified as she raised her hand over her right side.

        "The very big ouch," the man agreed. "We need to keep you here until we have that under control, and to make sure you don't enter sepsis." The man looked over Christina from head to toe, pausing for the uncomfortable questions he had to ask. "I don't know what sort of ... arrangement ... you have with your family, but, for now, I've agreed to keep your ... other condition ... between us and a few members of the hospital staff."

        Christina had no misunderstanding as to what the doctor was referring.

        "That said," he continued, "I need you to be honest with me. Do you understand?"

        " ... Yeah," Christina responded in a weak voice.

        "First off, how long have you been on hormones, and what is the dosage?" It was more like a statement than a question.

        Christina stared at the man blankly. "What?" she asked.

        "I don't mean to pry, but I do need to know what you're taking. You could be at risk for blood clots. I have you on a blood thinner now as a precaution, but I'd feel much better if I knew exactly how long you've been undergoing hormone therapy."

         "... I" Christina started, a little confused, "I'm not taking any kind of therapy."

        The man gave the girl another visual inspection, pressing, "I'm not here to pass judgment on your choices. I'm here to provide you with the best care I can, and to do that we can't afford any secrets."

        Christina insisted, "I'm not taking hormones, or anything else."

        The doctor went to the bin on the cabinet and retrieved Christina's file. He took a red pen from his coat pocket, clicked the button on top, and wrote some notes.

        "You're positive," he asked one more time.

        "Yes," Christina answered somewhat offended by the implication that she was lying. "I would know."

        "Are you on any other medications?" he continued. "Anything at all."

        "No," Christina answered truthfully. "I don't even like taking aspirin."

        "Any recreational drugs? Alcohol?"

        "I mean, I drink every now and again," Christina confessed, "But not a lot."

        "Are you now or have you ever been a smoker?"

        "No."

        Doctor Redinger flipped a page over in his folder, and continued, "Have you ever been hospitalized before? Any allergies?" He scribbled away as Christina shook her head. "What about your parents? Did they have any medical conditions? Heart problems? Diabetes? Anything I should know."

        Christina thought for a while about that question. She answered honestly, "I really don't know if either one of them had any problems."

        "Fair enough," he said as he finished his notes. "As far as I know, appendicitis is not a genetic condition- you managed this one all on your own." He shot the girl a smile, though she, like most of his patients, didn't find medical humor all that funny.

        "How long am I gonna be here?" Christina asked.

        "Certainly the rest of today, and probably tomorrow," the doctor answered. "A nurse will be come by to change your dressing, and we're going to monitor your progress. I'm afraid we're going to have to keep you off solid food and liquids for a while to give your body a chance to heal."

        "Okay," Christina acknowledged. "Doctor Redinger?"

        "You can call me Doctor Jerry," the man said with a smile.

        "Doctor Jerry," Christina corrected, "Thank you for keeping my secret."

        The man's smile broke for an instant. "I don't think I'm doing any harm," he admitted, "But I'm not sure I've done you any favors either. Once you're feeling better, I think you'll have to reassess your situation."

        Christina did not answer aloud but with a nod. She knew the man was right. Today was not the day the world found out her secret, but she couldn't keep it forever. "I need ... " she started uncomfortably. With her left hand Christina made a motion over her chest to imply breasts. "I need them back," she insisted.

        The doctor nodded, saying, "We removed your breast forms for the time being. It's easier to monitor you this way, and frankly I don't think you'd appreciate them with the stitches."

        "... I need them," Christina whispered. She emphasized the word "need," trying to make it clear that this wasn't a simple case of vanity.

        Alek came back into the room with a cup of coffee in one hand and a small carton of orange juice in the other.

        Seeing the juice, the doctor said, "Sorry, no fluids for Christina just yet."

        Nodding, Alek took his seat by Christina's bedside. He placed the juice on the wheeled tray by his side then took a sip of his hot coffee.

        "I'll be back to check on you later today," the man assured Christina. "Do you think you can make it until then? It's going to look terrible for my record if you don't last through the afternoon."

        Christina answered, "I'll see what I can do." She pulled her three blankets up, bunching them slightly over her chest.

        Doctor Redinger acknowledged Alek with a nod then left Christina in the large man's care.

        Focusing on the pain in her side, Christina frowned and faced away from her uncle. She felt emotionally drained both from her physical condition, and from the thought that Alek had almost discovered her terrible secret. It was bad enough that the doctor knew, and Christina felt a mixture of anger and shame as the doctor clearly thought she was lying to him. Even though she felt as though she couldn't get out of bed, she found it hard to fight the instinct to flee. She wanted to run away from the hospital; from the entire situation.

        "Uncle Alek-"

        She was cut off by a knock from the door. Looking up, Christina saw her Aunt and Nina enter the room, followed by Steph and eventually Andrei. Nina was carrying a plastic bag and she looked thrilled to see her cousin awake.

        The frown left Christina's face, immediately being replaced by a wide grin. "Hey everyone," she beamed, as though she'd not been in distress a moment before. "You didn't have to come all the way out here," she insisted, though she was comforted to see them.

        "Nonsense Tina," Misha admonished as she went to Christina's bedside. "How are you feeling, child?" she asked.

        "Oh," Christina bluffed, "you know. I've felt better, but it's not so bad really."

        "I see," Misha said as she surveyed the girl who obviously did not feel as good as she claimed. "Are you comfortable?" she asked, feeling the course fabric of the edge of a hospital blanket between her fingers.

        "Yeah," Christina insisted. "I mean, it's not as nice as home or anything, but I'm okay."

        Nina reached into the bag she was carrying and removed a pair of pajamas sealed in plastic. "We stopped before we came over to get you something to wear. We didn't have time to pack any of your clothes yesterday."

        "Let me see," Christina said as she took the package from her cousin. It was a simple cotton pair of pajamas with red drawstring pants and a black V-neck top. The pants had a repeated pattern of a sleeping cartoon zebra. The top had a single zebra on the chest with the phrase "Catching some Zzzzzzs". "Aw Nina, they're really cute," she said. "I can't wait to try them on."

        "You gave us all a scare, Stretch," Steph said as she took her position on the other side of the bed.

        "I'm so embarrassed," Christina winced.

        "Could have happened to anyone," Steph quipped, "But it seems like everything always happens to you."

        "I know," Christina laughed. "Nina," she said, turning back to her younger cousin. "I dunno where my head is at. How did you do at the finals?"

        "We won," Nina announced as though it were some trivial matter.

        "Nina!" Christina exclaimed before her voice was cut short by a stab of pain from her said that resulted from her quick movement. "That's incredible," she recovered though her discomfort was obvious. "I'm so proud of you. I knew you could do it. Are you excited?"

        "Yeah, I guess so," Nina answered. "We had to leave before they gave out the awards. We got the call that you were-"

        "Oh Nina," Christina apologized. "I didn't mean to ruin your big night."

        Nina insisted, "You didn't ruin anything. I'm just glad you're okay."

        "When I get home we're gonna make a big deal about this," Christina promised. "'Cause this is such a big deal."

        "We don't have to," Nina deflected.

        "Yeah we do," Christina declared. "Besides, it will give me something to look forward to when I get home."

        "I've never been to a party to celebrate academic excellence," Steph chimed in, "But a party is a party."

        "We will all have a very large party when you return," Misha agreed.

         "It has to be a Nina party," Christina demanded. She saw that Andrei was lurking in the corner of the room. "Hey," she called to him. "Andrei," she beckoned.

        He raised his head and walked slowly over as if he were unsure that he wanted to be that close to the hospital bed. "Hey," he said.

        Christina held her right hand open and waited for him to take it. "The next party can be for you," she announced.

        "Sure," he agreed with an awkward nod.

        She searched Andrei's face and immediately sensed that something was wrong. "Hey," she pressed. "Hey," she repeated as her older cousin met her eyes. "I'm going to be home really soon," she promised. "So I don't want you using my office to store all your warehouse junk, okay?"

        "Sure," Andrei agreed again.

        "I mean it," Christina mock threatened. "I spent a lot of time cleaning that place up, and I need you to look after it until I get back."

        "Yeah, alright," he answered sheepishly.

        Still holding Andrei's hand, Christina looked around at the assembled group. "You guys didn't really have to come all the way to Dover." This was met by sounds of people insisting that their only concern was Christina's well being.

        Alek recruited his son to help him raid a few chairs from a nearby waiting room, and the group sat around Christina's bedside. Christina demanded to know all the details of Nina's victory which the younger girl was all to willing to relate. Christina wanted to ask Andrei and Steph what they knew about her attack, but she didn't want to make anyone in the room more concerned than they already were. She was especially wary of pushing Andrei, who she could sense was having a particularly difficult time.

        The group stayed for an hour and a half before Misha decided that it was time to let her niece get some rest. She'd been studying the girl since she'd arrived and she saw every twitch and grimace that Christina minimized in an attempt to disguise the pain she was in. Misha understood that she was putting on a brave face for the benefit of her cousins and her friend, and she did not want her niece to press herself further than she already had.

        "I think it is time to let Christina get some rest," Misha announced as she rose from her seat.

        "But Mom," Nina complained.

        "Your mother is correct," Alek corrected. He gave his son a knowing look, then recounted what he had told him the previous night. "It would be best for everyone to return home. I will stay with Christina until she is well enough to return."

        "Dad-" Nina protested.

        He raised his wide palm to stop the argument before it started. "Nina, I need you to help your mother run the store. And I am certain that both Andrei and Stephanie have their own work to attend to."

        "I've got Leese keeping a lid on things at the salon," Steph explained. "She can't quite work my magic," she continued as she threaded her fingers together, then pushed her palms outward, cracking her knuckles, "But she can handle things for a day or so."

        "I love Lisa," Christina joked, "But the town needs you."

        "Don't you know it, Blondie," she agreed with one of her wicked grins.

        Alek pronounced, "It is settled."

        Nina went to hug Christina but her cousin made it clear that her incision made that a bad idea. Christina held the younger girl between her arm and the hospital bed; it was the best hug she could manage. Misha gave Christina a kiss on the forehead and she and Steph shared a weak fist bump. Andrei had kept his distance since he'd retrieved the extra chairs. Christina caught his gaze and vowed, "I'll see you soon."

        Christina maintained her cheerful expression until the entire family except her Uncle had left the room. As soon as she was sure they were gone, the smile left her face and her head fell flat against the thin hospital pillows.

        "If it's okay with you, I think I'm going to take a nap," she said to her uncle in a spent voice.

        "Of course, Tina," he said kindly as he resumed his watch by her side.

        Closing her eyes, she insisted, "You should get something to eat. I'll be fine by myself."

        "I will attend to that later," he countered.

        "Okay," the girl answered without a fight. As much as she wanted a moment where she felt like no one was wasting their energy worrying about her, she always found it was easier to sleep when she knew the older man was nearby.

 

        Christina's nap was interrupted later in the afternoon when a nurse came in to change the dressing on her side. Christina made sure that Alek left the room while this procedure was performed. She'd convinced the man that she was ashamed to be seen in even that small amount of undress, though she was really concerned that the Alek would notice that the blankets that were concealing her body were not hiding quite the parts he would have expected. Even though she was not particularly cold, Christina requested another blanket before she let the nurse leave.

        After the changing of the dressing, Christina found that she could not get back to sleep. Alek, though was very tired, having not slept through most of the night. He drifted off into a nap of his own, one that Christina was not willing to disturb. The disturbance eventually came in the form of another visitor at the door.

        The knock prompted Christina to look up, and she saw that Richard, her former boyfriend, was in the doorway. He was uncharacteristically dressed in a pair of jeans and a zippered hooded sweatshirt that sported a Columbia University logo. He was unshaven and looked as though he'd gotten as little sleep as anyone else who'd been to Christina's bedside that day.

        "Hey," he said. "Can I come in?"

        The noise caused Alek to stir in his chair.

        Christina was in shock. Richard was the last person she'd expected to see walking through the door.

        "What-" she started, but was cut off by her uncle.

        "What are you doing here?" the man growled angrily at the intruder.

        Raising his hands as a sign of peaceful intentions, he said, "I just came to see how Christina was doing."

        "How she is doing?" the irate man sneered as he rose to his feet. "How my niece is doing is none of your concern."

        Standing his ground, Richard said, "Of course, but I'm here none the less. I was hoping to have a minute with Christina."

        Pointing a stocky finger in the man's direction, Alek decreed, "You will have nothing further to do with Christina and you will leave at once."

        Richard looked at Christina who was just beginning to process that this was really happening.

        "Uncle Alek," she said calmly. "It's okay."

        Alek insisted, "It is NOT."

        "Uncle Alek," Christina repeated. "I can handle this."

        Looking down at the weak girl in the bed, Alek assured her, "Tina, you do not have to-"

        "Please, Uncle Alek, I can handle this. Why don't you get something to eat? I'm worried about you."

        "Are you sure, Tina?" he said with concern.

        "Yeah," she assured the older man. "It's okay. I promise. Please let me handle it."

        Alek looked unconvinced, but he eventually concluded that he had to trust Christina's judgment in this case. He went to the door and stared at Richard in the eyes. Though Alek was older than Richard, the man was larger in every dimension. In a cold and stern voice, he said to the man, "I will not be far, and I will return soon."

        "Understood," Richard said as he stepped aside to let Alek pass.

        Alek did not break his gaze until he'd left the room.

        Once Christina had heard the sound of Alek's footsteps in the hallway diminish, she motioned for Richard to close the door. "Why are you here?" she asked in an exhausted voice.

        "Why am I here?" He repeated. The man kept his distance several paces from the foot of Christina's hospital bed. It was as though there was a well defined boundary of the outer limits of the girl's personal space which he was unwilling to broach. "You don't remember a thing, do you?" he asked.

        "What are you talking about?"

        "Your dog found me."

        "Boris?"

        "Yes," he clarified. "Your dog came barreling down the street barking like crazy, and he started to ... harass me until I followed him. I guess he recognized me."

        Christina did remember seeing Boris jump through the screen door of the grocery store before she became unconscious.

        "I followed him back to the store and I found you on the floor. You were in pretty bad shape. You were ... well, you were out of it. Some of the things you were saying were crazy."

        "I thought Doctor Stone found me."

        "I called Doctor Stone," Richard explained. "He said that we had to get you to the hospital as fast as we could - no time to wait. So, we put you in the back of my car, and one near speeding ticket and a police escort later, we got you here."

        "It was you ..." Christina said. Things were starting to fall into place. "You were the one who told Doctor Jerry to keep my secret."

        "Yes," Richard answered. He paused for a moment then asked, "How is it even possible that your family doesn't know?"

        "How is it possible that you didn't know," Christina sparred angrily.

        Richard studied the girl in the bed on the other side of the room. How was it possible? Even now, even with what he knew, Richard saw the girl he'd fallen in love with. He couldn't see a trace of anything else.

        "I can't believe you," Christina said as she shook her head. "You're so disgusted that you went through all this just to make sure no one in Oak Grove found out about me."

        "Is that what you really think?" Richard said with a mix of hurt and anger.

        "Why else, then?"

        "If I was so ashamed, do you really think I would have told all of my business partners?" he shot back. "Why do you think I cashed in every last favor I had with them to convince them to keep up this charade against their best instincts?"

        Christina shook her head. She didn't want to listen to a word he was saying. She eventually asked, "Why?"

        Richard ran his hand through his unwashed hair, saying, "I'm not proud of how I reacted when I found out ... the truth about you. Let's just say it was not my finest moment. I didn't want your family to find out the same way. I think ... you should tell them when you're ready. They deserve better, and I think it would be best for you, too."

        Christina looked out the window. Richard's version certainly made more sense, though she didn't want to let herself believe it.

        The girl's silence fed the embers of anger that Richard was still clinging to. "I mean, what did you think was going to happen? Just how long were you going to keep this up? You had to know that something like this was going to occur eventually. They're going to find out."

        "I don't know!" Christina erupted. "I don't have a plan! I don't have any idea what I'm doing! I never meant for any of this to happen."

        Seeing the tears well up in her eyes was too much and Richard found it was hard to be angry with her. In a hurt voice, he asked, "Why did you lie to me?"

        Looking up at the man, Christina started to understand that she had truly hurt him. As much as she still stung from their breakup, she began to feel guilty. "I never lied to you," she answered. "I mean ... " She let out a long sigh. "I didn't tell you everything I should have, and that wasn't right. But, I never pretended to be somebody I wasn't." She saw that her words did little to console the man that she still had very real feelings for.

        "You don't understand," Christina continued. "I'm not even supposed to be able to fall in love with you. I told you to leave me alone, but you kept pushing ... and you were charming ... and handsome ... and infuriating. And somehow, I don't know how, but somehow you made me fall in love with you." Christina was crying again, even though she didn't want to show Richard how much pain she felt from his absence. "I asked you to leave me alone, and I even tried breaking up with you ... You made me fall in love with you, and these feelings won't just go away. And I have to live with that."

        Richard asked, "So what happens now?"

        "... I mean ... " Christina began, hesitantly. "You know, you're right. Eventually something is going to happen. Maybe I'll get hurt, or maybe I'll just make a dumb mistake, and everyone will find out. I can't keep this up. After I get better, I'm gonna have to leave."

        "That's it," he said sadly. "You're just going to leave."

        "I have to," Christina insisted. "I've been lying about who I am for a very long time. Lying to myself. I need to go somewhere where I can sort this all out and maybe if I can really become the person I'm supposed to be, all the way, maybe I can come back then."

        "Where do you think you're going to go?" The man asked rationally. "Where are you going to get the money? Who's going to go through that with you?"

        "I don't know!" Christina burst. "But I have to go. I'll have to do it alone. I don't want my family to ever look at me the way that you do."

        Hurt and insulted, Richard asked, "And how exactly do I look at you?"

        Christina frowned as a tear ran down her cheek. "... Like I'm a thing," she answered.

        Richard started to approach Christina's bedside, but he still couldn't bring himself to move that close to the girl. He was not repulsed by her. On the contrary, he was afraid that if he got too close that he would confess that his feelings towards her had not changed in spite of everything. He wanted to stay by her side. He wanted to make sure she got better. Perhaps it was because he was still hurt by her dishonesty, or maybe it was just simple cowardice, but he would not step closer. He eventually stated, "I don't see you that way."

        Wiping away her tears, Christina insisted, "You should go."

        "Christina," Richard started.

        "My uncle is going to be back soon and you shouldn't be here when he gets back."

        "I-"

        "I don't want you to be here," Christina said definitively.

        Resigned to that fact, Richard shoved his hands into the pockets of his hooded sweatshirt and went towards the door. He gave her one last longing look before he left.

 

        Christina did not have any other visitors over the next few days, though Nina, Steph, and Lisa kept in touch via text messages, and her aunt through phone calls. She suffered through another fever as her body fought off the infection. Between the medical attention she was receiving and the powerful antibiotics that were being fed into her, Christina eventually healed to the point where Doctor Redinger declared that she was no longer in danger of going into septic shock or worse. Now it was just a matter of time and patience. Even though she was allowed to have liquids and solid foods, she hardly ate a thing as she was still in a substantial amount of pain and very depressed. Christina wondered why she never appreciated how her body worked and felt while she was well; it was only when she was in so much discomfort that she became aware of every muscle. Even deep breaths elicited a stabbing pain. She found it hard to envision a time when she wouldn't think twice before every minor movement.

        Being stuck in bed made the days drag, but also blend together. She wasn't sure when she'd come to the hospital or even what day it was. The one comfort was her uncle. Alek had been her first sight every morning and her last every night. Christina begged the man to get food and sleep; he paid no attention to his own needs. He would sit and watch television with her, even though he had little interest in the programming that interested his niece. He would also tell Christina stories of the past to help her fall asleep at night. As much as Christina wanted her uncle to think of himself, he was the only thing that made being in the hospital bearable.

        His company was only interrupted by the nurses or Doctor Redinger. Alek would grant Christina her modesty during these interruptions, always returning afterwards. On one day, their company was interrupted by someone Christina did not recognize as a nurse. She was dressed in dress pants and a crisp white blouse. Though she looked to be in her early forties, her style and makeup read younger, and her bobbed black hair gave her a sense of polish and a hint of authority. Though her clothes were casual, they stuck out compared to the inert scrubs and uniforms of the hospital staff.

        "Knock knock," she said as she stood in the doorway. Most people would have actually knocked, but she spoke with the confidence of someone who spoke for a living. She was holding a cup of coffee with a cardboard sleeve in one hand and an expensive phone in the other that she consulted, then deposited into her pocket. She had a cardboard box that looked large enough to hold a pair of shoes under her left arm.

        "Yes?" Alek answered on their behalf.

        Her four inch heels clacked against the floor as she strode into the room, her hand held outstretched to greet Alek.

        The heels were just one other way this woman did not fit into the order of things in the hospital, Christina thought.

        "Hello Mister..." she started with a friendly grin, waiting for the man to fill in the blanks.

        "Levchenko," Alek answered.

        "Levchenko," she repeated. "I hate pronouncing names wrong, so I always let someone else say it first." She looked to the girl on the bed, adding, "And you must be Christina. I've very much been looking forward to meeting you."

        "Me?" Christina asked.

        "That's right," she said in a chipper voice. "I'm Melanie Kline. Some people call me Doctor Klein, but I don't care for them much. Mostly people call me Melanie, or just Mel."

        It was a lot for Christina to take in. This woman had perfect diction and she spoke at a pace that demanded one keep up. "Hi," Christina said, trying to make sense of her.

        "How does Mel work?" she asked as she deposited her coffee and cardboard box on the wheeled tray near Christina's bed. She held out her hand for the girl in the bed asking, "Do you prefer to be called Christina or something else?"

        "Uh, I'm not sure what else you would call me." Christina answered as she shook the woman's hand, "Christina is fine, I only have the one name."

        "So you do," the woman said as though she was studying the girl. "Hey Dad," she said as she turned back to Alek. "It's Uncle, isn't it," she corrected as she put a hand on his shoulder. She squinted knowingly at the man, correcting, "But I think maybe it's really Dad, isn't it? He looks like 'Dad'," she declared as she addressed Christina. She didn't let up long enough for anyone else to take the conversation in a way she didn't intend.

        Turning back to Alek, she insisted, "Dad, I'm going to need a moment to talk to Christina in private." Before the man could object, she said the words "lady business," as she made double air quotes with her fingers. "Private stuff, not Dad stuff."

        "Of course," Alek said with a hint of confusion as he rose from his chair. He was used to granting his niece privacy with the hospital staff, but he was not sure what to make of this new woman. She certainly seemed friendly enough, if slightly manic. Alek gave Christina a look to make sure she wanted to be left alone with this new doctor. Seeing the girl's shrug, he gathered a news paper that had been crumpled on the floor next to his chair and left the room.

        Doctor Klein waited until the man was gone then turned her attention to Christina. She gave the girl a look from head to toe before continuing. "Christina ... " she started without the same measure of energy she'd displayed as she entered the room. "I thought we could talk for a bit." It was as though the woman had shifted into a lower gear.

        "Talk?" Christina repeated.

        "Yep, just talk," she said as she waved her hands. "Just talk. Hospitals are not fun places, and it seems no one has any time to actually talk to anyone else. But not me. I'm here to talk. Love to talk. And I bet," she said as she again sized the girl up with her eyes, "you don't have anyone you can really talk to."

        "Doctor Klein-"

        "Melanie!" she interrupted. "Or Mel. My mother is Doctor Klein. Actually my mother isn't a Doctor- I just like to say that."

        "Melanie," Christina continued, unsure of what the situation entailed, "What are we supposed to talk about?"

        Doctor Klein again shifted down a gear as she sat in the chair next to the bed. "Is there anything you'd like to talk about? How you're feeling? What you've been doing? How your life is going?"

        Christina reasoned that this woman must be some sort of public relations officer for the hospital that must survey the patients from time to time.

        "No," Christina declined, "I don't think I need to talk about anything. Everything is fine."

        "It's tough getting to know one another," the woman continued undaunted. "I talk to a lot of young women. A lot of them your age. Some younger; a few older. There's one thing I've found that every woman has in common."

        "What's that?" Christina asked, feeling oddly drawn into a conversation she was fairly certain she didn't want to have.

        "Jeans." Doctor Klein said that one word as though it were the single universal truth that bound the universe together. "Every woman has a favorite pair of jeans. Every woman is built a little bit different and we spend out lives looking for that one perfect pair of jeans that fits us better than any other, and we hold onto them as long as we can."

        "Yeah," Christina agreed. Oddly after all the terse medical conversations she'd had with the other staff, a simple talk about clothes was a relief. "I have a really hard time finding jeans that fit because I'm tall," she said as she moved her hands down to her waist. "I tried so many different brands and styles, but it always felt like my ankles were popping out. It was ... ugh ... stressful. But I did find one pair of low rise jeans ... " she spread her hands over her waist as if to invoke a waistband. "They sit just right on my hips. It's like if someone made them just for me and they hug everything just right. The best part," she continued enthusiastically, "Is they taper right at the knees and then flare out. Whenever I wear them- I just feel great. It's like I feel pretty, and cool, all at the same time. I love the way they make my legs look. I don't feel as comfortable in just about anything else."

        "Yep," Doctor Klein agreed. "Did you buy more than one pair?"

        "No!" Christina complained. "I ordered them online and they don't make them anymore! I mean, they make them, they say they make them-"

        "But they don't fit the same," the woman finished.

        "No! It's the same company but the cut is completely different."

        "It's enough to drive you crazy," the doctor commiserated. "It's the same for everyone - there's just the one pair of jeans. The one that fits, and you pray they never wear out or you never grow out of them."

        Christina focused on the pain in her side, wondering how long it would take her incision to heal before she could wear her favorite pair of jeans again.

        "I stole my favorite pair of jeans," Doctor Klein explained. "From my husband," she clarified. "I never could find a pair that fit me just right until one morning I took his jeans off the floor and put them on so I could get the mail. That's when I realized I'd found my pair. He never got them back." She gave Christina a knowing look and continued, "See, my problem is I've been cursed with these hips," she said as she put her hands at her side. "I have ungainly narrow man hips." She put her hands up as though she were quelling protest from the girl that did not have an opportunity to come. "Now I know you're thinking it's not true, Mel, but it is. It's just genetics. There's nothing to be done about it. It's fine though," she dismissed. "I have my pair and I look great. I'm just built the way I'm built. We're all built the way we're built."

        For the first time, Christina felt a hint of unease. She wasn't threatened by this woman, but she felt as though the conversation wasn't actually about clothes. "What kind of doctor are you?" she asked.

        "I'm the kind of doctor you talk to," she said, "To help you sort out the really tricky problems. The way I hear it, you don't have anyone to talk to about the big stuff."

        "I dunno what you mean," Christina lied.

        "How long have you been here?"

        "What?"

        "How long have you been in the hospital," she clarified.

        Christina shrugged, "I dunno, a few days I guess."

        "Five days," she answered calmly. The woman had now downshifted into serious.

        "Okay, so ... five days," Christina conceded. "So what?"

        "It's just that, you've been here for five days," she said incisively, "And there's not a single hair on your face."

        Now it was out in the open. Christina's jaw tensed up and she started to withdraw.

        Doctor Klein put her hand on top of Christina's displaying nothing but patience and kindness. "Why is that?" she asked.

        "I ... " Christina began, though there was no conclusion to the utterance.

        "You don't shave a lot, do you," the doctor stated.

        Christina defended, "I shave as much as everyone else."

        "How often does everyone shave?"

        "What?" Christina asked.

        "You shave as often as everyone else. How often does everyone else shave?"

        "Uh, I guess every week or so?" Christina shrugged.

        "Most men," she said gingerly, "Have to shave every few days at least or they turn into hairy beasts. You shave every week, or so," she repeated, "... but you don't really have to shave, do you."

        Christina gave the woman an angry look. She regretted allowing things to get this far.

        Unflinching, the woman asked, "How long have you been taking hormones?"

        "I am NOT on hormones," Christina exploded, still angry that Doctor Redinger didn't believe her previous answer. "Why do people keep asking me that?"

        "Because you look like a girl," the woman answered as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

        "It's just," Christina said in exasperation. She put her hands to her face, explaining, "It's the way I cut my hair ... and I plucked my eyebrows."

        "The shape of your face; the way you talk," the woman continued. "The way you carry yourself, even laying down."

        "I'm not on hormones," Christina repeated testily.

        "No, you're not," Doctor Klein agreed.

        Again Christina was caught off guard. "You believe me?" she asked.

        Doctor Klein pointed to her left shoulder then traced a line in front of her to the right shoulder. "Your shoulders," she explained. "You have narrow shoulders. Narrow for a boy, anyway. Hormones don't do that. No, you're not on hormones."

        Christina was beginning to get confused. "I don't understand what you're talking about," she complained.

        Doctor Klein looked the girl over again, formulating a rough diagnosis in her mind. She sat back in her chair raised a finger on each hand. "People like it when things are simple. And people like it when you can put things in simple terms and familiar categories. People like up and down," she said as she twirled one finger then other. "Right and left. Black and white. It makes it a lot easier to live in the world when you break it down like that." The woman paused to take a sip from her coffee and continued. "The problem is the world doesn't actually work that way." She pinched the collar of her blouse. "Lots of people would say this is a white shirt. It's actually eggshell. That's a level of distinction some people can't handle."

        "Fine, so your shirt is off-white," Christina complained.

        "And," the doctor pressed, "When people are born, they're born either girl," she said as she twitched the finger on her left hand, "or boy," she finished with a twitch of the right. "But the truth is that sometimes nature is as bit less opinionated."

        It took a while for that last statement to sink in. "What are you saying?" she asked.

        "What I'm saying Christina," she said with a voice full of empathy, "is that sometimes things are not as simple as boy or girl, and people need help to figure out where they fit in. I'd have to order some tests to be sure, but I'd say that you're not someone who fits into a simple category."

        Christina frowned as she started to understand.

        Doctor Klein pressed, "How long have you been living as a girl?"

        "I ..." Christina said though her haze. "I mean, a year or so ... well, all the time since Christmas."

        Christina felt as though she was going to cry again. She demanded, "Why are you telling me this?"

        "I work with people who have issues you like yours. It's what I do. I help them sort it out. I got a call from a friend of yours- Richard? He told me that there was someone I'd be very interested in meeting. So I hopped on a plane and here I am. He wasn't wrong. You're quite the mystery Christina, but I think we can work it out it together."

        Christina closed her eyes and fought back her tears. Emotionally spent, she choked, "Do you really think I need someone to tell me that I'm fucked up? You don't think I know that? You think I can't feel it every moment of every day? I don't need there to be one more thing wrong with me."

        "There's nothing wrong with you," Doctor Klein consoled as she again put her hand over Christina's. "We are who we are. You were just born a little different than most people. It doesn't make you a bad person, or 'fucked up', it just makes you ... you, and there's nothing wrong about that at all."

         "I don't want to talk anymore," Christina dictated as she turned away and withdrew her hand. "I want you to leave."

        The doctor waited a moment, then stood up. "Okay," she said, "If that's what you want." She took a business card from her pocket and placed it on the tray table next to the bed, then picked up her coffee. "If you change your mind though, you can call me. You can call me even if you just want to talk about jeans. As long as you call me Mel and not Doctor Klein."

        She started towards the door but stopped half way. "Oh right, I have something for you."

        Christina looked back at the woman. Christina's face asked "what" though she didn't say it.

        Doctor Klein motioned to the box on the table, saying, "I got those from your doctor. He was reluctant to let you have them back until you were one hundred percent, but I convinced them he didn't have the right to make that decision." With that, the woman left Christina alone and made sure the door was closed behind her.

        Unwilling to risk the pain of leaning over, Christina reached out pulled the tray table to the side of the bed before examining the box. She opened it and found that they contained her breast forms that the emergency room workers had removed the day she was brought in. She took them out of the box and noticed that there were some fresh strips that Christina assumed Doctor Klein had ensured were provided. She took them out of the box and pulled down the hospital blankets that covered her. It was an awkward operation, but with some patience, she was able to apply them under her hospital gown. It wasn't as good of a fit as she would have done at home, but it was more than enough to make her feel like a whole person again.

        Christina closed the box then made her best effort to lower the empty box to the floor so it would sit innocently by the side of her bed. Even though there was now more weight on her chest, she felt as though she could actually breathe. She leaned as far to her right side as she could manage without too much discomfort and looked out the window.

        A short while later there was a knock at the door. "Tina?" her uncle called from the other side.

        "You can come in," Christina said.

        The man looked around to see if they were again alone.

        "Uncle Alek," Christina called with a wavering voice.

        "Yes Tina," The man said as he started back towards his chair. "What is it?"

        "I don't like it here," she complained as she turned to face him, holding back fresh tears. "I don't like it and I'm scared."

        "Tina-"

        "Take me home," she begged. "I don't want to be in this place anymore."

        "Tina," Alek reasoned, "You are not well. You must remain here until you are well enough to return home."

        "I know," Christina admitted as her lower lip quivered a bit. "I just-" She wiped the tears from her face before continuing. "I don't think I can stay here anymore. I need to go home. I need you to take me home. I don't care if I'm not better, I just don't want to be here anymore."

        "Tina," Alek said as he held her hand. "I promise you that the moment you are well enough to leave, I will take you straight home where you belong. No one will keep me from this."

        "Okay," Christina said. She knew that her uncle wouldn't risk her health. She was going to have to hold on a while longer. She would tell the doctors and nurses anything they wanted to hear, she would pretend that the pain didn't exist, and she would find a way to will the instruments plugged into her to say whatever they had to so she could leave that place and never come back.

---

 

Edited into coherence by Holly H. Hart.

Thanks to Sephrena Miller for taking an early read.