Chapter 20: New Expectations

Laura and I soon began spending weekends together, partly to occupy our free time and also because we had become comfortable together.

“Why don’t you stay the night with me?” I asked on the first Saturday in December when she and I returned to my place after a day of bumming around together in several antique shops. “Perhaps you’d like to join me at the meal site on Sunday then.”

We slept together, enjoying the warmth of each other’s bodies as well as to explore and discover new sexual pleasures; we kissed and caressed, suckled on breasts and tasted our musty, moist orifices voraciously. And how excitedly we orgasmed, screaming and yelling so loud that I worried about our neighbors overhearing our sounds of passion. Yet, as much as we both relished these Saturday night sessions, we both felt an emptiness; we both needed a man to be sharing our beds.

“I will miss you, Julie,” Laura said on the last weekend we spent together before she would head home to be with her family on the Christmas holiday season.

“Me too, Laura. You’ve become so much a part of my life now,” I confessed.

“We need each other,” Laura said, kissing me with a moist, juicy passion as we lay together on Sunday morning, having just awakened from our night of love-making and sleep.

We cuddled together for a few minutes, and then we both got up to shower together and prepare to head out to the meal site where we’d both work for several hours before parting to our respective homes. As suspected, Laura too had become a favorite among the homeless and needy men and women who crowded the meal site each Sunday. She proved to be a good sport, seemingly enjoying the good natured flirting that occurred from men who were pleased to see and chat with another young women. And, Laura was adept at diplomatically warding off the more sinister advances that came from a few of the men.

On the last day of school before vacation, we agreed we’d both face quiet, possibly boring two weeks away from each other. There certainly would be no young men in our lives. I drove Laura to LaGuardia to catch her plane and we both kissed as I stopped to drop her off at the gate. Our kiss had to be quick because I knew I’d be holding impatient drivers if we lingered over it too long. We both had tears in our eyes.

*****
“We’d love to have you join us for Christmas dinner, Julie,” Harriet said during the lunch period on the last day of school before the holiday vacation period. We sat at one of the smaller tables in the busy cafeteria, being forced to lean close to each other in order to carry on a conversation in the din of student laughter, yells and chatter.

“Oh, I couldn’t do that, Harriet. It’s a time to enjoy your new family. I’ll just be intruding,” I replied.

“Don’t be silly. You’re like one of the family anyway,” she said.

“That’s kind of you, Harriet, but I best not interfere. Besides, I’ll probably hook up with my neighbors again.”

“Have they invited you, yet?”

“I expect they might,” I said. The truth was, however, that Paul and Marian Phillips had thus far not mentioned anything about joining their family for this year.

“They haven’t, have they? Do you even know if they’re having a family Christmas this year, Julie?” she asked.

Harriet knew that I would likely have a lonely vacation period, since I had no immediate family and my closest friends would be either out-of-town or occupied with their own families. I certainly didn’t want to be invited out of pity. Eventually I accepted; it’s hard to resist Harriet’s insistence, as I had learned through the years. Besides, I expected that Barry would be there. It would be nice to see him again.

“Good, that’s settled then. I’ll ask Barry to pick you up, dear, so that you don’t have to drive,” she volunteered.

“Oh that’s not necessary. I don’t want to have Barry go out of his way to pick me up. I can drive.”

“He’ll love the idea, Julie. Besides, some light snow is predicted that day and I know how afraid you are about driving when it’s slippery.”

I smiled. Harriet was well-aware of my fear behind the wheel, even on dry roads. She usually drove whenever the two of us got together, probably because of her impatience with my overly cautious driving. I fastidiously drove under the speed limit, usually causing a backup of frustrated drivers behind me.

“That would be nice of him,” I finally agreed.

*****
I like nothing better than to express my total femininity whenever I can. It’s hard to find lovely and dainty finery when frigid days require often drab layers of warm clothing. I wanted so badly to impress upon Barry how complete a woman I was. He was well aware of my gender change, but thus far had made no reference to it. I loved him for it; whether he believed it or not, he treated me as the young lady I was. I hoped, too, that he truly accepted me as a woman and that he was not being kind merely to please dear Harriet.

We had only two days off before Christmas Day and I spent the twenty-third bustling through stores at the mall for gifts for Harriet and her new family as well as a new holiday outfit for myself. Needless to say, it was a breathless time as shoppers hustled to and fro for their last-minute purchases.

I found a tie for Bart at a price I thought was outlandish, but I felt its subtle blue tone would suit him perfectly. I also spent too much for perfume for Harriet, choosing a scent I knew she fell in love with while the two of us shopped several months earlier. I found a maroon turtle neck sweater that I hoped Barry would like, guessing he wore a “large.” I provided gift certificates for other family members.

It was nearly four o’clock by the time I got to Fashion Bug to see what I could find for myself. The atmosphere in the store could only be described as tired, as sales items seemed to be scattered haphazardly on shelves and the clerks were groggy with fatigue. I shared with them the same tired feeling, but the minute I began looking at clothes my spirits improved. Just like a woman, I guess.

“What may I help you with, ma’am?” a well-dressed woman asked as I sorted through a rack of skirts.

“Oh, I need something for a Christmas dinner, something rather pretty and yet warm,” I said.

“Fine, let’s see what we can find for you. My name is Sharon,” she said introducing herself. She was probably in her mid-thirties and she was about my height and had a slender figure.

“It’s supposed to be cold this week and I suppose I should wear slacks, but I hate them. I feel so much better in skirts or dresses.”

“You have a lovely figure, my dear. What are you a four?” she asked.

“Sometimes I need a six. I got a tummy problem,” I said smiling.

“Don’t we all, dear?” Sharon said, laughing a bit.

In line with the holidays, I ended up buying a light gray tunic with red and green trim and a discreet stripe that tracked diagonally. The tunic came down to just above my knees and I bought navy blue tights designed to keep my legs warm. The tunic flared nicely below the waist, and I was fully aware it would accent my legs that everyone commented resembled those of a fashion model.

“Is that too sexy for a family get-together?” I asked.

“Not really,” Sharon said. “You have lovely legs and it’s a shame not to show them, dear.”

To be sure, I loved the look and it truly felt marvelous. I wondered, however, how Barry would like it. Would it look too suggestive to him?

*****
On Christmas Eve, Paul Phillips called and invited me to join his family for their Christmas Day celebration, just as he had the previous year. He seemed truly disappointed when I said I was invited to join Harriet’s new family.

“Of course, you must go there, Julie, but I know the kids will miss you,” Paul said after I gave him my regrets. He also apologized for asking me so tardily, but explained there had been uncertainty whether to host it this year.

“And I’ll miss seeing them again, Paul,” I said, remembering the fun I had with two of his granddaughters, the teen-aged Maryann and the young Wendy.

“Maybe you can stop over before you go to Harriet’s. We’re starting about one o’clock.”

Both Maryann and Wendy rushed to hug me when I got to the Phillip’s home about one-thirty on Christmas Day, almost knocking me over in the excitement. Both were dressed in Christmas finery, with five-year-old Wendy in her white baby-doll dress with green trim charging me exuberantly, and sixteen-year-old Maryann grabbing me in an intense hug.

Fortunately I had handed over the cherry cake to Paul as I came into the front door, or it would have been crushed before the hugging began. I had hurriedly baked it as a gift for the family; it was a duplicate of the cake the Phillips clan had enjoyed at the previous Christmas.

“I’m so happy you came over, Julie. I wanna talk to you,” Maryann said as she hugged me.

“Come on Maryann, don’t hog Julie from all of the rest of the family,” her mother, said breaking us apart and giving me a warm hug.

“You look so cute, dear,” Jean said. She was the oldest of the Phillips four children and the mother of both Maryann and Wendy.

“Not too sexy, is it?” I asked.

“No, it’s got a high neck line and what’s wrong with showing your legs, dear?” Jean said. “I only wished mine were as lovely as yours.”

After greeting the rest of the family, Maryann steered me off and led me to an upstairs room that Paul and Marian Phillips used as an office. “This used to be mom’s bedroom, along with Aunt Debbie,” Maryann explained.

In the past year, the teenager had grown taller and had lost the baby fat that she had carried with her the previous Christmas. She had obviously matured and she filled out a dark red cocktail dress; she was developing a trim waist with burgeoning breasts and long, athletic legs. She wore modest sandals with coffee-colored hose.

“You’re quite lovely Maryann, and you look so happy, too. Not like last year,” I said.

The girl laughed. “I was pretty grouchy last year, wasn’t I?”

“I guess you were, but you soon warmed up once we began playing with Wendy,” I said, fondly remembering how well we had connected.

“I’ve gotten over that boy now and I’m no longer mad at Phil,” she said, explaining how she had progressed since last year. She had broken from her boyfriend just before last Christmas after he had been seen with her best girlfriend, Philomena, whom everyone called “Phil.”

“You must have a new boyfriend now, Maryann. You seem so happy,” I volunteered.

“Not really, Julie, but I’ve got a whole lot of friends, both boys and girls,” she said. “I’ve gotten interested in immigration now and I’m working with a Latino group. I’m learning so much.”

“Hey, that’s cool. You’ve got plenty of time for getting serious with a guy,” I said. This sixteen-year-old girl seems to have her head on straight, I thought.

“How about you, Julie?” Maryann asked.

“Not right now, dear, but I’m quite happy,” I said.

Wendy bounded in, carrying a new doll. “Look what Santa brought me,” the youngster said, holding it up to show to Julie.

“She’s a pretty doll. What’s her name?” I asked.

“Julie,” she said, an impish smile filling her face.

“She named it after you,” Maryann explained.

“Why me, Wendy?”

“’Cause the dolly is so pretty, just like you,” the child said.

I couldn’t resist hugging the tyke.

I soon made my apologies to the Phillips and their family and left to get ready to be picked up by Barry.

*****
Upon her marriage to Bart Templeton, Harriet moved into the Templeton family’s home, a century-old three-story monster of a house in an aging neighborhood once populated by near-wealthy, professional families. The houses were all large and drafty and many had been remodeled tastefully while others like the Templeton’s home retained the well-worn woodwork, ornate moldings and kitchens of one hundred years ago.

It had been an ideal home to raise the Templeton’s four children, giving them ample space to play and run about and for Bart to keep a home office. Since his wife’s death several years earlier, Bart had lived alone in the huge house, having closed off several bedrooms to save on heating costs.

"Maybe, we should set up our own home, Harriet,” Bart had suggested during their engagement.

“Oh, Bart, I don’t know. Your kids love the house so much and the grandkids, too,” she had protested.

“You don’t mind living with all of our family’s memories?” he asked.

“No, I don’t, since I know they’re happy memories for you. But if you’d feel better moving out, I’m OK with that, too.”

“For now, I’d like to stay there,” he said.

Harriet had told me about the conversation before their wedding, having wondered whether she was wise to move into a house where there were so many memories of Bart’s first wife. I had advised her to give it a try; I had told her that Bart seemed a perfectly reasonable and generous man and one who would give full consideration to Harriet’s desires. Thus far in their marriage, it seemed, Bart was proving to be just exactly the sweet man he had been before the ceremony.

Having picked me up as planned, Bart’s son, Barry, led me out of the cold and into the warm, festive house where I was greeted with the din of laughter and blurs of human beings of all ages scattered about the foyer, living room and dining room of the first floor. A large pine tree, decorated heavily with old-fashioned lights and ornaments dominated the front window of the living room. The tree reached to the high ceiling.

As went entered the room, the talking and laughter stopped. I felt a sudden tinge of fear, certain that everyone in the room was staring at me. I’m sure I was blushing as Barry helped me off with my parka; I hoped the family would believe my red face came from the freezing temperatures.

Barry had warned me on the drive over that I would likely be scrutinized by the family. “I’m the only one in the family who isn’t married, and they look at all my girlfriends as my future wife.”

“Oh, my, Barry, we hardly know each other,” I said.

“Don’t worry,” he laughed. “It’s the furthest thing from my mind. I’m just picking you up ‘cause Harriet said you don’t like driving in this weather.”

“Oh?” I said. For some reason, his words hurt me, even though I should be grateful for his kindness in picking me up. I should have no expectation of expecting anything more from him; yet, Barry certainly was a handsome, desirable young man.

“Julie, I’m sorry. That sounded bad, as if I wouldn’t be proud to have a pretty girl like you as my girlfriend.”

“No, no, no. That’s OK. Thank you for driving me. You’re kind.”

I felt exposed as I stood there, probably looking like a timid schoolgirl, suddenly concerned that I had dressed too suggestively in such a short-skirted dress.

Thankfully, Bart Templeton rushed to my side. “Hi folks,” he loudly addressed his family. “I think most of you remember Julie from our wedding. She was the bridesmaid.”

Bart put his arm around my shoulders and led me into the house, individually reintroducing me to Barry’s one brother, Bradley and his wife, and to his two sisters, Elaine and Emma and their husbands. Barry explained that the boys were given names starting with “B” in honor of Bart and the girls given names beginning with “E” for their mother, Ellen. Some nine grandchildren ranging in age from two to sixteen were scattered about the house.

Chaos reigned in the house through the gift-giving and the buffet dinner that followed; while beer and wine were available in the kitchen, few of the family partook of the alcoholic beverages, with the exception of Emma’s husband, Justin, who seemed to make it a personal goal to drain a bottle of merlot on his own.

*****
As I watched the family members – mainly the children – open their gifts, I sat quietly on a comfortable side chair with Barry next to my side, seated upon an ottoman. Though Harriet had stressed that I need not bring any gift, I was glad that I did, as I distributed the gifts I had purchased just two days earlier. They all seemed pleased with my choices, particularly Barry who immediately donned the turtle-necked sweater I had given him. I grew warm and contented as I enjoyed this family celebration. It was so great to be welcomed into a family just as I had been by the Phillips next door.

Months earlier, and just a few weeks after the wedding ceremony, Harriet told me that she had informed Bart and his children of my background even before the event. At first, I was angry with her, but she reasoned, “Look, Julie, your background is not necessarily a state secret and someone in the family might bring it up. I thought it best to hit the truth head-on.”

It was true that my return to teaching after my transition was known, thanks to the publicity at the time; yet, I knew most people forgot that brief moment of my notoriety and that I had been fully accepted as a woman. In the end I agreed that Harriet was probably right and the proof in her wisdom had been shown in how completely the family had accepted me as Julie, Harriet’s best girlfriend and a logical choice to be bridesmaid. “All of Bart’s kids understood the situation, once I explained it to them,” Harriet told me.

The only members of the family that treated me with any degree of coldness were Emma’s husband Justin and their eldest son, Edward, who was a surly fifteen-year-old. Fortunately, both of them had thus far avoided me at the wedding events and at the Christmas gathering. I noticed, however, that Justin who had been hitting the wine pretty heavily was getting noisier as the celebration continued and had gotten into a loud argument with Bradley, Barry’s older brother, over whether gays should be allowed to marry. Emma tried in vain to quiet her husband as the scene grew more and more unpleasant as Justin’s voice raised in volume. I found it uncomfortable to listen to the blustering of the red-faced Justin.

“I going to the bathroom,” I whispered to Barry and got up from the chair. I had to step around several of the kids who were sprawled on the floor, trying to do so as to not draw attention.

“And where are you going, Miss or Mister Julie?” Justin thundered, pointing at me. “Who would ever want to marry a pervert like you?”

I turned in shock, almost stumbling over four-year-old Katherine, one of Bradley’s children, who was beginning to cry, watching her father facing the rage of the bombastic Justin.

“Now, Justin, that’s enough,” Bart intervened. “Julie is a guest in this house and she should be treated as such.”

Emily got up to confront her husband, but he rose from his chair, pushing her aside. “Look someone in this family has got to stand up for what’s right. A thing like that is polluting this family,” Justin said, now standing. He was a burly man and well over six feet tall and towered over the room.

“But . . .” I tried to say something to fight back, but instead broke into tears.

“Now, Julie, dear, we’ll handle him,” I heard Barry say. He was standing at my side, holding me as I sobbed. I laid my head into his chest and he pulled me close to him.

“If you think that thing is a woman Barry, that makes you a pervert,” Justin yelled.

“Look you idiot, I’m no pervert and you know it and I’d be pleased to have Julie as my wife if she thought I was worthy of her,” Barry yelled back.

With that, Barry turned his head down to kiss me. It was a long, passionate kiss and I soon settled into his embrace as I heard applause in the room.

When we broke apart, I looked to see Emma lead her husband Justin and son Eddie out of the room. Bart and Harriet both apologized for Justin’s behavior, but I replied they had nothing for which to apologize.

“It was just the wine talking,” I said.

“No, it’s Justin, but Emma loves him and so he’s part of the family,” Bart said. “He’s truly very good with the family otherwise except for his screwy opinions.”

“Maybe, he might even learn to understand me,” I said.

“If you’re ever to be part of the family, he’ll soon learn to like you Julie, I’m sure,” said Elaine, Bart’s other daughter. “And we agree with Barry. You’d make a great wife for him.”

“Now, sis, don’t jump the gun here,” Barry said. “Julie and I hardly know each other.”

“But you said you’d be pleased to marry her, didn’t you?” Elaine queried, smiling and winking at Julie.

“I would be, but we should get to know each other first, Em,” Barry said.

“Barry’s right, we don’t really know each other, but I like what I’ve seen so far,” I said, smiling.

Barry turned to address Elaine: “You know I said that to defend Julie and to shut Justin up.”

I was momentarily shocked. “So you wouldn’t want to marry me? I’m not good enough for you? I’m a freak, is that it?” I said, using a teasing tone.

“No . . . no . . . no. I didn’t say you’re a freak and ‘yes’ I’d love to have a girl as pretty as you as my wife.”

“Come on you, two,” Harriet intervened. “We all know Julie for the sweet young woman she is and we all love them both, don’t we?”

I looked about; the entire family was focused in on our conversation. Then, I turned my eyes toward Barry and smiled. The whole scene was unreal: here I was in the arms of a man I barely knew and we were being thrust into marriage. It was hilarious, I thought, and suddenly couldn’t resist laughing, causing Barry to begin to laugh as well.

*****
The snow had begun to fall as Barry drove me home; the roads had become slippery, forcing Barry to concentrate on his driving. I thought about how marvelous it had been for Barry to stand up to Justin and express his appreciation of me in front of his whole family. Of course, I realized, he wasn’t proposing to me; that would have been ridiculous. Yet, was it possible that he was thinking of me as a potential wife? But, hadn’t I given up hope that a man would want me?

Maybe Barry was just playing with me until a woman without my background would come into his life. He certainly must have had many girls in the past; he was great-looking guy who was kind and intelligent. A girl could hardly ask for anything more. We had a long goodnight kiss in his warm car, but he resisted my invitation to come in for a drink. I began to feel that he had offered to drive me to and from the family event merely to please his stepmother

He surprised me as he led me to my front door and assisted in unlocking the door. He said, “May I call you again? I’d love to see more of you, Julie,”

“Yes, Barry, I’d love that,” I said.

“You know, we need to get to know each other better, don’t we?”

I couldn’t resist impulse to kiss him again. I stood on my toes to kiss him; our kiss was warm and full of passion. Without further words, Barry released me, and held open the door for me to enter the house. He turned to return to his car. I closed the door on him, and ran quickly to the front window, peering out to watch him continue down the walk toward his car as snowflakes wafted down. It was a lovely picture. Could a girl ever be happier?

*****
It turned out to be the sweetest holiday season of my life; Barry and I were together virtually every day that he was free of work responsibilities. We enjoyed our time together, often at my place where we would jointly make dinner, share some wine and finish up in my bed. He soon learned that I now was just like any other woman and that I grew moist and orgasmed noisily and passionately.
And what a man he was! Slow and gentle in his love-making, understanding of a woman’s need for affection first and his own joy in his ejaculation second.

“I know it’s too soon, Julie, but is it OK to ask you to begin considering marriage?” he asked one night as they lay there, holding each other tightly, exhausted from our love-making.

“I thought of it so often this week, Barry, but are you sure, really sure? I’m not a total woman,” I said, tears filling my eyes.

He felt my body move with my sobbing, and began gently caressed me; it was so comforting.

“You are all woman to me, Julie darling,” he said finally.

“But I’ll never give you children, dear, please think of that, think of how disappointed your father will be not to have more grandchildren.”

“Oh my dearest Julie,” he said soothingly. “All he cares is if we’re happy. He loves both of us, I know, and besides we can adopt or we can even arrange to have a surrogate birth.”

“Maybe,” was all I said, and we soon fell asleep in each other’s arms.

*****
During the week, I got an excited call from Carmen, “Julie, Randy and I’d like to drop by with little Julie if you have time. You’ve just got to see her.”

“Oh I’d love to see her and you and Randy,” I gushed.

I had known the Vikings were to play the Giants at the Meadowlands during the holidays and I wondered if Carmen might have taken the opportunity to come to New York to join him and also visit with family.

Two nights later, they showed up at the door with little Julie. I had alerted Barry and suggested he might like to join us and see my namesake as well as to meet Randy and Carmen. I told Barry a little about how I knew Carmen and Randy as students, but left out the details of how close Randy and I had once been. Barry was eager to join us, perhaps lured more by the chance to meet a real live NFL football hero in person than see the player’s wife and child.

Little Julie charmed us all; she would obviously grow up to be a beauty. The girl carried a combination of Randy’s blue eyes and blond hair and Carmen’s dark, warm skin. The child was in the toddler stage where she was curious about everything, causing the young parents to be ever alert. Pictures were taken and there were lots of laughs and “oohs” and “aahs” over little Julie’s antics.

When it was time to leave, there were hugs all around. I worried about how I’d feel when it came time to hug Randy, realizing there would be no way to avoid him, but when we were in each other’s arms I was pleased to find that I felt no emotional stirring, no desire to kiss him and to run my hands over his strong muscular body.

Randy whispered in my ear as we hugged, “Wish you and Barry all the happiness in the world.”

“And you and Carmen and little Julie, too,” I said as we parted.

My true love, Barry, stood at my side, his arm around me.

****
Laura McPherson was actually beaming as she joined me for lunch on the first day in school after the holiday vacation season; there was a sparkle in her eyes that I had rarely seen in the several years we had been friends and co-teachers at Farragut. While she always enjoyed teaching and had grown fond of the kids in her classes, she had not thrived in her personal life. I had been her only constant companion and friend; while I had enjoyed occasional male companionship, she, however, had none. She found some comfort in listening to my own off-and-on relationships, perhaps living through my joys and disappointments. I was always happy to confide in her, knowing her sincere concern for my own welfare.

“You look like you had a great holiday, Laura?” I asked after the two of us had settled in our seats at a table reserved for staff. We sat next to each so that we could converse over the lunchroom noise.

“And you look pretty happy yourself, Julie,” she answered with a smile. “Quite a change from when I last saw you.”

“Yeah, we were both kind of down at the mouth, weren’t we? What brought about your smiling face? I know you weren’t particularly looking forward to spending the holidays with your family, as much as you love them.”

Laura nodded, her dimpled face radiant in the bright fluorescent lights of the room. It was obvious she was looking forward to tell about her apparent good fortune.

“You met a guy?” I asked, guessing that her bright smiles came from that.

“I guess you’d say that,” Laura answered.

“Tell me.”

Laura talked so eagerly and fast that Julie had to ask her to slow down as she related that one of the boys in her hometown, a mountain of a kid who played offensive tackle on the high school team and later went on to the State University where he starred, ran into her at the local supermarket and asked her out on a date.

“We went out almost every night after that and we saw the New Year in together,” she gushed.

“I’m so happy for you.”

“It seems he liked me while we were in high school, but he was a year ahead of me and was dating another girl so he never asked me out. I guess that relationship ended after he graduated. And guess what? He’s starting a job in a few weeks right here . . . well in New Jersey, that is. I think we clicked. I can hardly wait ‘til he gets here.”

“That’s great,” I added.

“And what’s your news? Did you hear from Michael again?”

“No, that’s over for sure, but you know I mentioned that Harriet’s husband has a son, Barry?”

“Yes, you said he seemed nice,” Laura said, smiling. “You mean he . . . ?”

“Yes, we’re just perfect together.”

“That’s so sweet,” Laura said.

“Do you think maybe a double wedding might be in the offing?” I said, giggling.

“Isn’t it a bit soon for that, Julie?”

“Well we girls can dream, can’t we?”

The End