A Mother’s Story

Part 1

How Jerry married the Queen and found people thinking he was gay.

A Surprise

“Hey Jerry, can I talk to you for a minute?” Jane Turner, one of the hottest girls in school, was beckoning to me. Me? She had said “Jerry,” and there was no other Jerry around, so I must be the one she was talking to. She was cheerleader who had starred in the fall musical and dated the crème de la crème, and I was – well me. I walked over to where she was standing – a little alcove that looked out over the parking lot. It was where the assistant principal kept an eye on things without being seen.

“I’ve noticed you looking at me. Aren’t you ever going to ask me out? Are you waiting for me to ask you?” I was embarrassed that she had seen me eying her, but I had been – along with most of the other guys in school.

“Jane, everyone looks at you. You’re like the queen. You are the Queen. But, I know my place in the pecking order, and it’s not dating the Homecoming Queen. In fact, I’m so far down the ladder, no one wants to date me – even the Homecoming Scullery Maid.”

“You never can tell, Jerry. You have to ask.”

I felt I was being set up for ridicule. Still, I plucked up my courage. “OK, Jane, would you like to go out with me Saturday?”

“Of course, Jerry. Here’s my number. Call me tonight.” She pressed a slip of paper into my hand and hurried off. I must be dreaming – or I was being set up for an elaborate joke. I’d been going to this school for almost four years and had zero dates. Sure, I knew some girls – lots of girls – more than boys – but they considered me more one of them than dating material.

At lunch I told my friends what happened. Delores Gomez said something was up – maybe Jane wanted to get Bob Williams, the quarterback she used to date, jealous. If so, I should watch out. He had a temper and one well-placed punch could land me in the hospital. Cat, a “sweet” boy whose real name was Carl Alfonso Torres, said that Jane had been stressed and distracted lately. Cat had the best feminine intuition at the table, so I accepted his observations without question. Tina, the brain of our little group, agreed. She’d seen Jane repairing her mascara in the girl’s bathroom.

I floated the idea that I was being set up for a cruel joke. Roger O’Malley, who had a crush on Cat, started to agree, but then said that Cat was usually right, so it must be something else. After a bit of discussion, the consensus was that I was too insignificant even to be the butt of a joke. I should just call Jane, be careful, and see what happened.

Mom worked. So, I cooked and cleaned up. It was almost 9:00 when I called Jane. She seemed anxious, like I wasn’t going to call. She tried to hide it with bravado, but there was a tremor in her voice. She tried to be pleasant, but clearly Cat was right – she was stressed and distracted. She wanted to see a movie in Pasadena, about 20 miles away, and would pick me up about 4:00. After the movie we’d stop at the Hat and split a pastrami sandwich. It was within my limited budget, so I agreed.

After I got off the phone and I looked up the movie. It was playing at three local theaters. Why go to Pasadena? She must not want to be seen with me. That seemed to rule out Delores’s idea of making Williams jealous. I was glad not to worry about winding up in the hospital.

Saturday, I shaved twice, brushed my teeth and gargled more times than I remember, put on extra deodorant, new underwear, my best khakis and a polo shirt. My mother gave me the mandatory compliments and I waited patiently for Jane. About 4:15 she drove up in her Prius, honked and waited for me to come out. My mother made a comment about how rude girls are these days, then revised it to apply to Jane alone.

I tried to make small talk as we drove to the theater, but Jane wasn’t talkative. When we got there, I got the tickets and offered to buy popcorn. She needed to watch her weight. I looked – maybe she was right. I got her a diet soda instead. That’s how the date went – it was a disaster. She was tense, said little, and barely laughed at my feeble quips.

After the Hat, she suggested that we go up into the hills to see watch the sunset and city at night. It was spectacular. As I sat watching, she put my hand under her skirt hem, leaned over and kissed me with more than a little tongue. I never kissed a girl before and wasn’t ready for that. Still, I got hard. Her hand was slowly rubbing the front of my pants. It was too much, too fast.

“Jane, stop! We’ve had a lousy date and now you’re doing this. What’s going on?” With that she stopped, put her face in her hands, and started sobbing. For a long time she couldn’t say anything. I felt sorry for her, and held her.

“I’m knocked up and need to get married. I thought maybe I could make you marry me.”

“I’m surprised you don’t get an abortion. Rumor is lots of your friends have.”

“I was planning to get rid of it, but my mom found my test kit and told my dad. He won’t let me ‘kill my child.’ They want me married so they don’t get dissed at the club. Bob won’t marry me … and none of the other guys will either. I thought maybe you’d be thrilled to marry me – besides no one would think the less of me when I divorced a looser like you.”

“So your plan was to make me think I got you preggers, force me to marry you, and then divorce me after the baby is born? And do what with the baby?”

“Oh you could keep the horrid thing. I don’t want it.”

I wasn’t sure what stunned me more – how little she thought of me, or her total indifference to “the horrid thing” inside her. No one could really be like that. Maybe she’d be a normal, loving woman and mother if someone gave her real love.

“I’ll drive you home. Just keep your mouth shut, or I’ll fix you, or maybe one of your fag buds – O’Malley or Torres – or that Tina person. You never can tell who you’ll meet in a dark alley.”

“I wasn’t going to blab anyway – but you better stay away from my friends. Their connected,” I lied. I always try to think the best of people. I decided she didn’t mean the threat, but lied as I lied in return because she was desperate to keep her secret.

The Prenup

I admit it. I’m a horrible romantic. As I was going to sleep that night I started thinking of myself as a white knight, coming to Jane’s rescue. If I gave her the love and devotion any woman deserves, she’d come around. Then, there was the baby. I know, guys aren’t supposed to like taking care of babies, but I’d done a lot of babysitting and a baby of my own touched a cord deep in my heart.

Don’t forget that testosterone had been coursing through my veins for 5-6 years. Jane was the only girl I had ever been on a date with. (I had taken Tina to the prom, but only because no one else asked either of us. It wasn’t a date. We didn’t even kiss.) Not only had Jane practically asked me out, but if I’d just gone along with the program, I would have gotten laid. When you’re 17 that means a lot more than it should.

So, the combination of my heart and my cock pulled me in a dangerous direction. My brain, on the other hand, was jumping up and down blowing whistles and waving red flags. It lost. About noon Sunday, I texted Jane, “Thinking abt it.” About 10 minutes later I got “Pk u up @ 1.”

Again, she was about 15 minutes late. “You want to marry me?”

“I’m thinking about it. What do you want?”

“I told you. Look, I told my dad you were thinking about it. I didn’t tell him what a looser you are,” she reassured me. “He wants to talk to you.” The rest of the drive passed in silence.

We pulled up to a pretentious colonial – pretentious because the columns were way out of proportion to the house. Still, the house was bigger than any I’d ever been in. Jane led me to the library, where her dad had his desk. “He’s waiting for you,” she said as she turned to go up stairs.

“Hello, I’m Jerry – Gerald Zimmerman – Jane said you wanted to talk to me.”

“Ralph Turner,” he said holding out his hand. “Have a seat,” he said indicating one of two leather armchairs flanking a lamp table. He eyed me for a few seconds. “Funny, you don’t look like an idiot. Are you after money?”

“What?”

“Jane said you were thinking of marrying her. So, I figure you must either be an idiot or looking for a payday. Am I wrong?”

“Jane is a very beautiful and sexy girl. Lots of guys would want to marry her.”

“They don’t. She’s a bitch. Everyone who’s met her finds that out straight away. If that’s why you want to marry her, you’re an idiot. I’m not going to take advantage of an idiot. It’s immoral. So is there any other reason you’re thinking of marrying Jane?”

He wasn’t fooling around. He had no delusions about his daughter and had thought about her a lot more then I had. He sat patiently as I gathered my thoughts.

“Well, I don’t call girls ‘bitches,’ but you’re right. She’s self-centered and inconsiderate. … Last night when she decided to tell me what was going on … she was crying and I felt sorry for her. Still, I was mad that she was willing to trap me … to use me. … I like to think the best of people. I think maybe if someone … if I … loved Jane she might change … you know all girls … all women are capable of real love … at least that’s what I want to believe. … I think if I treated her nice I could bring that out.

“Then there is sex. You know, I’m 17 and never had sex. I want to wait till I’m married and she wants to marry me … so that’s part of it.

“And there’s the baby. Babies need someone to love them … I don’t think Jane is ready to love her baby … Maybe I could help her see how wonderful babies are. I’ve done some babysitting. I know I could love a baby the way it deserves – even if it’s not mine … biologically I mean.”

“Is that all?”

“It’s all I can think of right now.”

“Well, Jerry, you’re not the kind of idiot I thought you were. You’re an idealist and a romantic – that makes you an idiot of a different sort, but an admirable idiot. I don’t think for a second you’ll be able to change Jane. I’ve loved her all her life, and it hasn’t made the slightest difference. Maybe you might, God bless you, but I really doubt it.

“As for sex, Jane gives that out freely. So get what you can as long as you can. Just don’t catch anything.

“What matters most to me is you loving my grandchild. He or she will need a lot of love, and won’t be getting much from Jane – I have no delusions about that. Having a parent that will love my grandchild means the world to me.

“Have you thought about how you’ll support your family?”

“If I do marry her, I plan to get a job when I graduate … I was going to go to Cal State L. A., but I’ll get a job instead.”

“I want you to go to college as you planned – but maybe later. The child has to come first.

“Personally, I think you’re signing up for a stint in hell, but I want to protect my grandchild. So, here’s the deal. Connie, Jane’s mother, wants her to stay married for two years at least – for appearance sake – Connie is very concerned about appearances.”

“If I marry it will be for a lifetime, not two years – I don’t care about appearances.”

“I am not doubting your good intentions – but it takes two to make a marriage. Right now, anyway, Jane is not planning a lifetime marriage – and she and Connie do care about appearances – sometimes I think that’s all they care about. Anyway, let me lay out my proposal without interruption. Then you can tell me what you think.”

“Sorry for interrupting, sir.”

“No need to be. As I was saying, here’s what I am proposing. Whenever you are divorced, you will get full custody of any children. I’ll buy you, personally, a starter house before you are married. When you marry I’ll pay off the mortgage. It will be yours to keep and raise my grandchild in. You’ll stay married to Jane for at least two years. If you’re divorced before that she’ll get no inheritance and you’ll get nothing further. If you stay married for the two years, you will get a $100,000 cash settlement and $25,000 a year until the youngest child is 18. I’ll also set up trust funds for any grandchildren to attend a four-year university. Is that satisfactory?”

“I wasn’t looking for any money, so that’s more than generous.”

“So, there you have it. If I were you, I’d walk away because I wouldn’t want to be married to my daughter for any length of time for any money. I want you to take a week to think about it and discuss it with your parents.”

“It’s just my mother.”

“Well, tell her she should be proud of you, but also tell her what I said about being married to Jane. See you in a week.” He shook my hand and I left.

Jane was waiting in the hall. “Did he say I’m a bitch?”

“Yes, but I’m sure he loves you.”

“Well, I am. Last warning.”

I told my mother the whole story. She gave me the same advice as Jane’s father. Still, I figured I could make Jane love me by being nice enough to her, so I wanted to give it a try. The following Sunday I was in the Turner library telling Mr. Turner what I decided.

“I’ll have my lawyer draw up a prenuptial agreement along the lines I outlined. I’ll give you money to hire a lawyer of your own to review it. Remember, that though I’ll try to help you, I think you’re going to have a rough two years.”

Jane and I were married the week after graduation in a small wedding in the Turner home. Cat was my best man.

Our Honeymoon

After the wedding we went to the Beverly Hilton before flying to Hawaii the next day. (The Turners gave us a honeymoon there as one present.) I know wedding nights are supposed to be about sex, but Jane said she was really tired, and I know I was. So we just went to bed and slept. We did not even have Champagne because Jane was preggers and I was too young anyway. The next morning a limo took us to LAX and we were off on a first class flight. In Hawaii, we stayed in a cottage overlooking the ocean.

When we got there, I thought it was time for me to loose my virginity, but Jane looked at me in a disgusted way. “Look, Jerry,” there was an angry edge to her voice as she said my name, “if you think your going to fuck me, you’ve got another think coming. I’m not fucking a fag looser like you.”

“I’m not a fag!”

“Oh? Any guy who was not a fag would have screwed me when he had his chance up in the hills that night. Besides, only a fag would hang out with other fags like Torres and O’Malley. So, if you want to have a pleasant marriage, find a boyfriend down by the pool or wank yourself off, but leave me alone.” With that she shoved me out of the bedroom door and slammed it shut.

It was hardly manly, but I burst into tears. I spent the night on the sofa. The next morning, Jane asked me if I knew my place.

“What place is that?”

“You’re a paid companion, dearie. If you’re ready to accept that and give up on sex with me, we can go down to breakfast together.”

I didn’t know what else to do, so I agreed, hoping that in time I could change her mind and have a normal marriage. That started a pattern. We had meals together, then went our separate ways until the next meal. Jane flirted on the beach and around the pool, but given that she was beginning to show, without much success, which just made her angrier. Meanwhile, I sunned, read, swam or watched TV.

The third day, I was getting some rays by the pool, reading Pride and Prejudice, when a well-built 30ish man named Tyler sat beside me and struck up a conversation. I’m not very outgoing, but I’m not antisocial either. I was glad of someone friendly to talk to. He knew the book and had seen a couple of movie versions as well. It was a favorite of his former SO. He identified with Darcy, because he tried to be rational, but found that his emotions eventually won out. His SO was more like Elizabeth, rash to judgement, but willing to see the truth about him in the end. Sadly, they had recently broken up when another man came into the picture.

By now we were walking along the beach front in the shade of palm trees. “I hear you're married, but it’s not going well?”

I was surprised. “Where did you hear that?”

“Well, this woman kept eying and flirting with me, so I went over to tell her she was wasting her time. It turned out to be your wife. When she found out where my interests lie, she suggested that I talk to you.”

“You mean about Jane Austin?”

“Well in a way. About you being Elizabeth to my Darcy.”

“Elizabeth?” I was confused. Then it came to me – Jane told Tyler I was gay. While I was working it out, I’d been looking into Tyler’s eyes, trying to grok what he meant. He misread my stare, leaned forward and gently kissed me on the lips. For a second, I kissed back, kind of automatically. I thought I’d be revolted at kissing another man, but I wasn’t. Tyler’s kiss had been affectionate, not lustful, and I was badly in need of affection. I was still confused after I’d worked out how I could be Tyler’s Elizabeth.

Tyler didn’t press me, but waited for my reaction.

“Let’s sit and talk, Tyler.” I lead him to a bench facing the sea. I wasn’t sure how much to tell Tyler, but he deserved more than a curt rebuff.

“That was a very sweet kiss, Tyler.”

He smiled. “Thank you, Jerry.”

“Yes. In fact, I really liked being kissed, but it wasn’t because I want sex with you. It’s because I’m going through a hard time with Jane now. I guess I need affection and to feel wanted.”

“Jerry, that’s very honest and brave. Those are two of Elizabeth’s best qualities.”

I blushed.

“Look, Jerry. I don’t need a sexual relationship just now and I really like you. You need someone to care about you. So, how about we just spend some time together? We can agree right now that there won’t be any sex, but if you’re willing we can share a little affection. How about it?”

I sat for a while thinking. Lots of young guys and gals went out, kissed and didn’t have sex, but Tyler and I were both guys. I wasn’t gay – Tyler’s penis held no fascination for me. Still, his kiss had warmed my soul. I was married, but Jane made it clear that it was a marriage in name only. What would people think? Did I care? I wasn’t a homophobe. Cat and O’Malley were gay and I liked them very much.

“It sounds weird, but I don’t care. If you don’t mind dating a straight guy, I don’t mind dating a gay one.”

“That’s great Elizabeth!” Tyler winked at me, took my hand and helped me up. Then he held my hand and we continued walking down the beach. Later I texted Jane: I wouldn’t be eating with her. After dinner, Tyler walked me to the cottage, and gave me a good night kiss that warmed my heart.

When I went in, Jane was in a crappy mood. She’d ordered a drink, but room service wouldn’t serve her because she was underage. “I see you took my advice and found a boyfriend. I saw you and Tyler kissing. I knew you were a fagot!” I didn’t care what she said or thought.

That was the tone of my honeymoon. Jane and I occasionally ate together, but mostly we went our separate ways. A couple of nights she didn’t come home. I spent most of my time with Tyler, who was true to his word and didn’t press me for sex. I felt feminine with him, and enjoyed being held, kissed and called Elizabeth. After a week he went back to Texas. A few days later, Jane and I returned to L. A.

My Job

My new house was in West L. A. It was Spanish colonial build in the 1930s with three small bedrooms, a living room, dinning room, and a breakfast room that Jane and I put our computers in. Jane and I each took a bedroom, and set up the third as a nursery.

Connie Turner spoke to some people and lined up a good paying job in a men’s store a short bus ride from my house. The salary was more than anything I had a chance at, and there would be commissions as well. Sunday evening after our return from Hawaii I put on a coat and tie, and went to meet the owner of the Blade Boutique in West Hollywood. It didn’t take long to realize that the Boutique catered to the gay community. Rene Blade, the owner, wore make up, a ruffle front mauve satin shirt, a beret, and black crepe pants. I wondered what Connie had gotten me into. Jane probably told her I was gay.

“Sweetie, I know you’re just out of high school. I can understand why a sweet boy like you would dress conservatively in such a hostile environment, but you can express yourself here. In fact, I try to maintain an image that will make even the shyest thing feel at home in my little boutique. Since you’re my first associate, I’ll style a uniform that highlights your yummy features. You’ll need at least a couple of new outfits to wear at the Boutique. Don’t worry, you’ll get them at cost, and I’ll deduct it from your salary.”

Since I was young and thin, he wanted to show my legs with the male version of black satin hot pants – if there is a male version. I was to shave my legs before work Monday. I protested that I was married and didn’t want customers hitting on me.

“Not ‘customers,’ ‘guests,’ sweetie. Don’t worry, I am not asking you to do anything with your yummy body your mother would blush at. Think about how waitresses dress, sweetie. It isn’t to get dates – well not mostly anyway – but to increase sales. Of course, if you want to make dates, I have no objection. We both know being married hasn’t slowed you down so far.” Clearly, Rene had been told about my dating Tyler.

Rene picked an assortment of poet shirts and matching berets to go with my black hot pants. “Now shoes. You can’t wear those old things,” he said indicating my new black Oxfords. “Take them off – let me see your feet. … Hmmm, lovely toes. No need to hide them. I’m cursed with ingrown nails, but yours are perfect. I have the perfect thing.” I followed him back to the shoe department. There he measured my feet and quickly returned with a pair of Steve Madden wedge sandals. “These will really shape your legs and show off your delicious feet.

“You have an appointment at 8:00 tomorrow at Randi’s Salon over there.” He pointed it out down the street, “Let him work his magic. I won’t expect you until noon. We close from noon till 2:00 every day for lunch, siesta and afternoon delights, but I’ll show you the ropes – oh wouldn’t that be delicious – don’t worry – just fantasizing. After that I’ll expect you Tuesday till Saturday from 9:30 to 7:30.”

It was all a bit much. Obviously all the customers would think I was another gay blade – as would anyone that saw me dressed for work. Still, the folks in Hawaii that saw me holding hands and having dinner with Tyler must have though the same. That didn’t bother me as much as I thought it might, so this shouldn’t either. Like Rene said, it was like waitresses wearing short skirts – just a costume to please the customers – ah, guests.

That was the pep talk that I gave myself on the bus home. When I got home Jane was watching some inane flick and eating chocolates. “Well, do you like the job mother found for you?”

“It pays very well.”

“I’m sure you’ll fit right in.” If that was her worst, I could take it.

The next morning I got up at 6:00, showered, and shaved my legs with one of Jane’s razors. I was not sure if they were the same as men’s but better safe than sorry. As I ran my hand over my shaved legs to feel for stubble, I got a strangely erotic feeling. Now that I’d done it for work, maybe I’d continue, even if I didn’t have to.

After I dressed in my hot pants, poet shirt and sandals a glance in the mirror showed a perfect sissy. I was glad that I wasn’t still in school or I’d have been beaten to a pulp. Jane was still asleep when I left.

I arrived in front of Randi’s at 7:40. About ten minutes later he arrived to open up. He stopped and looked my up and down. “You must be Jerry. You have a lot of potential. It’ll be a pleasure helping you blossom.”

“Ah, thanks.”

“How very refreshing to hear an unaffected voice from such a pretty boy. I know a lot of people who might find that intriguing. I’ll send them by. I’m sure Rene will be happy to have the traffic, and you can have the commissions and maybe a bit more.

“Rene wants you to have the works, but I want to keep you fresh and innocent looking. Nothing too over the top. You have blue eyes and a fair complexion, so Irene will lighten your hair and give it some subtle highlights. I’ll show you a simple day makeup regime to accent your gorgeous face, and Margaret will give you a manicure and pedi while you’re under the drier.” With that Irene started shampooing my hair.

“You're gorgeous honey. Randi’s the best. You’ll be so glad you came here. I wasn’t anywhere near you and look at me now,” Irene said in a husky voice.

I did look at her. If she didn’t still have a bit of an Adam’s apple, and I wasn’t so shy, I might easily have asked her out. “You’re beautiful, Irene.”

“It’s very sweet of you to say that, Jerry, but I have a long way to go yet.”

“No, it’s true. You are beautiful, and I’m sure you will only be more so in the future.”

“You’re a such a flirt, but I love it anyway.”

I found it very easy to relate to Randi, Irene and Margaret. I only needed to treat them as real people with virtues and flaws instead of stereotypes. I decided that if I did the same at the boutique, I could do very well there.

Shortly before noon, Randi brought me to the wall mirror to see the finished product. I didn’t look like a woman, and I certainly didn’t look like the man I’d been. Still, I was beautiful. For the first time in my life, I was proud to be me. My hair was honey blond with natural looking highlights. My lips were just a bit redder than their natural color, and my fingers and toes matched them. Mineral make up evened out my skin tones and covered a few blemishes. Finally, a touch of blue liner and mascara made my eyes pop.

I guess I looked like a sissy, but not like a caricature. Rene did have an eye for clothes. What seemed merely effeminate in the mirror this morning, all came together to make a statement. It was not a statement I’d thought about making, but as I looked it dawned on me that the Rene, Randi, Irene, and Margaret had all seen something latent in me that they had managed to bring out. I found myself saying, “It’s so me!” I'd have to find the courage to carry it off.