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Previously...

“Shhhh….it’s okay.” Lina put her hand on Susan’s neck and massaged it while leaning closer to display the fifth of the morning’s welcoming smiles. Tim leaned back against the pillow and covered his face with the back of his hand, feeling entirely unworthy. She placed a large eco-friendly grocery bag on the bed. She pulled out a long dark blue corduroy jumper and a white turtle neck.

“I figured you’d need something to wear. We can wait outside while you get changed. I talked to the doctor just before she came in. You’re okay to come home.” At the word home, Tim began to sob as the impact of her words stripped away the last vestiges of defense. Susan grabbed both of his hands in hers and kissed them.

“You’ll never want for a place to stay.”

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Later at home...

“This can be your room,” Lina said as she opened the door to the bedroom. Tim looked in and shook her head. The bed was large and roomy, with piles of pillows and a cozy looking crocheted throw folded in a triangle at the foot of the bed.

“I kept this just for such an occasion,” Lina said as she nudged the girl into the room and over to the closet. As the girl passed the tall dresser by the closet door she saw her reflection in the dresser mirror and shuddered. Lina noticed and redirected Tim’s attention to the closet once again.

“There’s not much here, but some of it is current and we can add to it sometime in the next few days or even the weekend if you’re up to shopping. Maybe Kohl’s? They have a nice store in Linden, or maybe just run over to Wal-Mart, okay? And I can pick up the essentials when I’m on my way home from work.”

“O…Okay….” Tim’s face grew red; the two demons of shame and guilt on her shoulders shouting loudly without a sound in condemnation. The few things she had were discarded at the hospital in favor of the clothes on her back, and the thought of someone believing her enough to get her something simple made no sense. Lina left the room but returned a moment later.

“Here’s a couple of things to tide you over until we can get out, okay?” Lina thrust a couple of pairs of cotton panties and two bras into Tim’s hands.

“I…I….” She stammered.

“Listen…I know this isn’t easy.” Lina guided the girl over to the bed and sat her down. She took the garments from her and laid them on the bed before sitting down next to her.

“Susan and I had a talk when she first came here. It was so hard for her since she was used to being rejected and hurt, and it was very difficult to believe that someone actually cared for her. Danny and Carlo helped, but she needed to know that someone understood, you know?”

“You’re almost on overload right now. I don’t know what else you need, but you’ve been trying very hard not to be yourself; even with us. You don’t have any timetable, Tim. Whenever and however it works out, Susan and I are here to listen, okay?” Lina smiled; the one thing that Tim so desperately needed and had been so sorely missed; a motherly smile. She leaned close and buried her face in Lina’s shoulder and sobbed.

“Shhh….shhhhh….It’s going to be okay, honey.” She stroked the girl’s hair and kissed her forehead; a blessing as well as a welcome gesture.

“It’s going to be okay.” Lina repeated and pulled the girl closer; a kind, warm, and treasuring embrace that pushed all the hurt aside. The hug was nearly too much for Tim and she pulled away; her face redder still awash with tears. She shook her head in argument before falling into the pillow, sobbing even harder. Lina sighed in frustration, but redoubled her resolve and fell on the bed beside the girl. She pulled Tim closer and held her tight as the girl continued to release a lifetime of pain.

“Shhh….shhh…” Lina whispered as Tim gave into the security of Lina’s hug. In a few minutes she had fallen asleep in the motherly embrace. Lina looked toward the ceiling and beyond as she wiped away her own tears; mouthing ‘Thank you.’

---

The next morning at the Albanese house...

“Hey…did you pick up milk and eggs?” Carlo asked as Danny walked through the kitchen door. Both brothers had been living away from home but moved back to take care of their dad during his final days. Danny walked past his brother and placed a bag of groceries on the table.

“And some rye bread and coffee…I took a look before I left for the hospital yesterday morning.”

“How did that go….is Tim okay?”

“So far, so good, in spite of what our dear good Rev. McKenna had to say.” Danny shook his head.

“Oh, jeez, that had to be entertaining.” Carlo said with a wry smile. Both brothers had faced the brunt of Pat McKenna’s ‘love the sinner’ mantra when several of their friends abandoned them when Susan came out. A few returned apologetically only recently; gestures met with sad regret and happy tears at their reunion.

Only one soul had been ‘left behind;’ an ironic turn of phrase owing more to the realization that Tim was not only alone but in very grave peril at the mercy of her father than to any theological construct. It was indeed the ‘End Times,’ but only in the sense that a few folks decided to end their relationship with Pat’s church and even sadder still; a few decided to walk away completely from their faith. Those sheep were important to Danny and Carlo even if they didn’t count as any loss to the church.

“It was sorta sad,” Danny said; putting his head down. Even if they cut Pat off at the pass, so to speak, every angry and demanding word echoed in the hallway outside Tim’s room and he displayed once again just how little he understood about his only child. The daughter who felt so hopeless and helpless as to try to take her own life now resided in their aunt and sister’s home; now safe with a family who cared.

“Liz McKenna called last night while you were at work.” Carlo said with a sigh.

“What did you tell her?” Danny said as he poured a cup of coffee. He sat down at the kitchen table.

“It wasn’t so much what I told her as what she said.”

“And?”

“She listened when I told her that Tim was going to stay at Lina’s. She hardly spoke a word after she asked about Tim except she sounded like she was crying.” Carlo paused and grabbed a mug out of the cabinet and poured some coffee before sitting down across from Danny.

“Don’t…. Oh, Please? She practically enables her husband to reject Tim….” He sighed and went to continue but Carlo held up his hand.

“No…no… It wasn’t like that at all. She wasn’t doing that histrionic thing like when we were little ….you know? The weeping for effect in Sunday school? It was like….” Carlo paused again, searching for a word. Danny stared at him; unimpressed. Liz McKenna could be almost as judgmental as her husband and twice as dramatic. He made a face, scrunching his mouth and furrowing his brows in disbelief. Carlo sighed.

“It was like… she was sorry.”

“Sorry don’t feed the bulldog.” Danny was tempted to add an expletive but shook his head instead.

“No… I… I mean she’s sorry….for Tim.”

“Yeah…sure.” Danny made the face again.

“No…I’m not kidding. She sounded different… Nothing like anything I can remember. It almost felt like talking to someone else.”

“Someone with a heart,” Danny said sarcastically, but in the middle of the words he felt something nudge him; a rude if necessary reminder. He shook his head again, but the deep sigh belied any disbelief.

“I’m sorry. It was a very long day yesterday. Go on.”

“She asked me…she didn’t tell me….she asked me if we could set up a time where she could visit Tim over at the house.”

“She asked? Wow. I don’t ever remember her asking for anything. She and Pat usually just told us…told everyone what to do.” Danny paused and his expression turned from sarcastic to concern.

“Yeah. And she said she’d be….”

“Coming alone?” Danny wasn’t a mind reader but he did have an understanding sibling relationship that worked in concert with Carlo’s heart.

“Yeah.” Carlo took a sip of coffee. Danny stood up and poured the rest of his own coffee in the sink. He went to speak; the events of the day and the thoughts and prayers of his night still in his mind. But instead he patted Carlo’s shoulder before pausing at the hall doorway.

“I’ve got some stuff I need to talk about with you. You gonna be around after lunch?”

“Sure. Today’s my day off so I’ll be hanging around here. Oh yeah….Susan called. She invited us to dinner.” Carlo looked out the kitchen door window as if to see across a few miles to Lina’s and Susan’s place. At the word ‘invited,’ Danny felt his cheeks grow warm. He turned and started walking down the hall; turning back around only after being out of sight.

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you after I get some sleep.”

“You sound a lot more tired than usual. Anything I can help with?” Carlo said as he stood at the doorway; putting his hands out face up in petition.

“Maybe….I’ll talk to you later, okay?” Danny asked even as he hurried up the stairs. Carlo shook his head and smiled. He could read Danny like a book, and he liked the story; especially what he thought might be included in the next chapter.

“Later!” He called up the stairway even as the soft tread of Danny’s footsteps marked his path down the upstairs hallway and to bed.

“Later,” Carlo said before breaking out into a wide grin.

“Later.”

---

Early afternoon at Lina's

Lina sat on the couch listening in rapt attention at the girl next to her. Both of them wore bathrobes over pajamas after a late rising followed by several hours of soul baring.

“I feel so small.” Tim said to Lina, whose eyes stared in empathy.

“I can’t do anything right,” she said as she looked away.

“That’s your father talking.

“No…it’s true. I couldn’t even fucking kill myself.” She shook her head; her complexion had returned to a dark blush of embarrassment and shame.

“Honey? No…” the tenderness of Lina’s voice included not a bit of condemnation and instead imparted at least as big an amount of acceptance as Tim was able to receive. She sighed.

“I had everything planned. You know? I guess I can’t even hold my liquor.” She sighed again, breathing out heavily.

“I know, Tim. Honey? Please?” Lina touched Tim’s arm, causing her to flinch.

“It’s going to be okay. I know how you feel.” Tim shook her head at Lina’s words; that belief that no one on earth could ever understand.

“I don’t want to make this about me, Honey, but I know what it’s like not to want to live.” Lina patted Tim’s arm and the girl pulled away slightly once again, but she turned her face toward Lina; wanting so desperately to be accepted.

“When I was a Junior in high school I began cutting….it got worse before it got better.” Lina pulled up the sleeve to her cardigan, baring her right arm. She pointed to long, fading scars that went up her arm to just below her elbow.

“Here…” she spoke again as she used her left index finger to point to short scars that went across her wrist in thin dark pink lines. Tim’s eyes widened.

“My sister… Susan and Danny and Carlo’s mom? She found me in the bathroom and stopped the bleeding. A couple of minutes later and we wouldn’t be talking to each other right now.” Lina smiled and got up from the couch. Walking over to her fireplace she pointed to a tall, empty bottle sitting on the mantel.

“I keep this as a reminder as well.” Lina noticed the ‘Smirnoff’ label on the bottle.

“I go to meetings; once or twice a week, but almost every day after I first got help.”

“I… I can’t.” Tim cringed and turned away.

“Go to meetings? Honey, you just got home from the hospital. And really? It’s like they say, Tim. One day at a time.” Lina walked back over and sat down, pulling Tim into a soft hug. The girl went to pull away but stopped and looked into Lina’s eyes. Those eyes; welcoming without expectation and loving without condition. It was another opportunity to accept being accepted, and Lina’s expression made it impossible for Tim to decline. She gave into the tender mercies of a very kind woman and allowed herself to be loved.

“I don’t want you to feel like you need to do anything right now. You’ve been stuck in ‘doing’ mode most of your life, and it’s time for being instead.” Lina tilted her head slightly as if to ask Tim if she understood. Tim nodded slowly with a half-frown.

“It’s okay, Honey. We’re all going to be here for you.”

“’We’re?’”

“Me and Susan and Noorah and of course Danny and Carlo.” Lina smiled. Tim turned away as her face grew hot.

“We’re going to have dinner together; we usually do some night or another during the week, and I thought it might be helpful. But I can postpone if you’d rather it be just me and you? Susan and Noorah are over here a lot either way since Susan lives here, but Danny and Marco can come another time.” Lina looked at the girl’s face as she turned her head away.

“No…it’s okay. I’ll be okay, I guess.” The timidity in the girl’s voice seemed almost out of place. Gone was any bravado like what Susan had experienced before Tim came out to her and Noorah. In its place was a cautious façade that was closer to the real girl but even still masked who the girl actually was. That flower had been sown before the girl was born and was only now coming to the surface to bloom and grow tall.

“Why don’t we do this? Let’s plan for dinner, but if things get too much for you, just say the word. We only want to help you, okay?” Lina looked over Tim’s shoulder down the hallway; a passage way from the kitchen led into a reasonable wide and accessible escape to the safety of the upstairs bedroom.

“Okay?” Lina repeated as the girl’s gaze followed Lina’s to the hall doorway. She nodded and half-smiled.

“Well, okay, then. Why don’t you go up and take a hot shower. I’ll leave some things to wear on your bed and when I’ve cleaned up we can have a late lunch.” Lina placed her hand once again on Tim’s arm and the girl breathed out; a sigh borne more out of relief than any frustration or fear still lingering. She got up and helped Tim to her feet, drawing her close once again.

“It’s going to be okay.” She said before ushering the girl into the hallway and up the stairs. Lina watched the girl until she disappeared around a corner at the top of the stairs.

“It is going to be okay, right?” She said as she gazed upward in petition. A moment later she was walking into the kitchen. After pouring some water into the coffee maker for a fresh pot, she sat down at the table and rested her elbows on top. She cradled her face in her hands and began to cry softly; a travail of tears for the girl who reminded her that some callings are not big and public, but small and gentle and private. A smile crossed her face even as her tears dripped onto the table. It would indeed be okay.

---

Later that afternoon...

Tim stood in front of the dresser mirror. She had missed the clothes folded neatly on the bed and instead grabbed a colorful smock-like top and matching maroon pants from the closet. Only after staring at her reflection did she realize she had put on a scrub outfit Lina wore at work in the Pediatric ward at the hospital. She leaned close and peered ‘down’ at her reflection; as much as she could she saw her body partly obscured by the reflection of the dresser as well as obscured by the drape of the clothing.

“No…” she said in denial; not merely because of her body, but what that image meant in relationship to how she saw herself inside. She scanned the reflection; almost seeking out the smallest flaw. Her gaze stopped and focused on her breasts. They pushed the fabric of the top only a bit; small but growing ever so slightly from the use of borrowed ‘help.’ She shook her head. The bra could do nothing to enhance what wasn’t yet there, and her lack seemed to magnify what she actually owned everywhere else, so to speak.

She placed her hand to her face. Her jaw had always been weak, but in a disappointing way rather than that often longed-for look she had read about in stories. Her nose was too much like her mother’s; a nice if awkward way of identifying with the most significant woman in her life. Eye brows that could do with shaping and a complexion fraught with flaws just like her mother as well. She resembled her mother, but more as a girlish boy than a girl altogether. She bit her lip.

“Let’s see what we can do with that pretty face of yours.” Lina said as she peeked into the room as she held the door frame.

“I’m not pretty.” Tim shook her head.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Lina said. She walked up to Tim and displayed a clutch-sized makeup bag. A few moments later Tim stared at herself. Nothing much had changed, but the makeup had softened her appearance while accompanied by a deft trim of her brows. She didn’t look pretty in the truest sense but she looked more like herself, as Lina likened it. A fairly plain but decidedly feminine young woman peeked back at her.

“I think you’re beautiful,” Lina said meaning every bit of it and then some.

"You look a lot like my late sister; she was a nurse like me."

Lina immediately worried that the comparison might discourage the girl. Tim had been almost a stranger to complements even as a boy growing up; Pat McKenna didn’t want his child growing up vain or self-centered. Vanity would never enter the picture, no matter what Tim did or didn’t do. But like many of us who have been neglected, our default setting on our self-image usually is self-centered. Tim had moved away from self-pity quite a bit, but movement away from shame still was almost glacier-like.

“I’m … not.” A fair assessment if taken in the context of appearance only, but Tim missed the part about the inner self, and how beautiful a human being stood opposite her in the mirror.

“Well, I read somewhere that we’re all wonderfully made, so there!” She kissed the girl on the cheek and stepped back.

“Are we still okay for company?”

“I…I don’t know.” The hesitancy in her voice was mixed with an odd half-smile; the need to be with friends and family seemed to push her embarrassment aside as she found herself nodding yes. The idea of family was almost foreign to her; having experienced the life of a pastor’s child where everyone else mattered more than his own wife or child. And having to be just what was expected of a pastor’s son when all along she had been a daughter if her father had bothered to look.

“Why didn’t Tim try out for football. I know he’s not a big kid, but he's fairly tall. I’ll bet he could be a great receiver.”

“You know you only indulge him if you let him cry like that.” What boy wouldn’t cry over the death of his dog? Which boy would be stoic at the passing of his favorite aunt?

“Yes, I know. But that’s just another temptation to overcome. It’s not uncommon for boys to wonder about other boys, but that doesn’t make it right, Tim. You just need to give that to God.”

“Well, Danny and Carlo are picking up dinner at Pho Minh’s over in Linden. Will it be fine Vietnamese cuisine here with everyone or Hamburger Helper here with you and me?” Lina laughed softly. Tim looked at her and half-frowned; an expression of reluctant surrender rather than any disagreement she could imagine. Lina smiled and spoke.

“Good. Their food is superb and the company will be superb as well.” She patted Tim on the back and retreated. She stopped at the door.

“Dinner is going to be around six or so; I’m going to run out to Krauzer’s for some milk. Noorah and Susan are downstairs so just come down when you feel ready.” She waved and Tim nodded slowly.

She looked back at her reflection once again; not anything like what she remembered. Only a few days ago virtually no one had ever ‘seen’ Tim as anything but a boy. Her father saw a son in whom he could invest as the heir and successor to his pastorate. Her mother saw only a weak boy who practically mirrored her personality; gruff and dismissive to everyone but dying a little inside every day from self-hatred.

Others save for a precious few knew her as a one-time bully; bravado that covered over a child who wanted to be kind and loveable instead. And she knew herself for so long as the awkward boy who couldn’t say no to the demands of a very strict father and a boy who felt shame and guilt for the attraction he held for another. Nothing so simple or transformative as the stories she read when no one was around. A fairly plain boy that was really a decidedly plain girl; someone to help along a dully-lit existence with marginal acceptance and never someone to hold and love and cherish. She folded her arms in a self-hug; trying to appreciate in herself things she feared would never be appreciated by another human being.

“No,” she said sadly as she released the self-embrace. She walked over to the door and closed it. Shaking her head, she went over to the bed and fell into it as she wept.

Next: A New Name

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