"	Gene's Story or How I Gained a Cousin A novel by Karen Lockhart Copyright 2016

I woke up to the smell of bacon and looked at my clock, “Damn it's only 6am.”

Since I was up, I needed to head for the loo. That taken care of, I headed for the kitchen.

Gene was standing over the stove wearing one of my aprons. “Hope you're hungry,” he said with a smile. “Bacon, eggs, and toast coming up.”

I could get used to this, but I grumbled, “You know it's Saturday, don't you?”

“I couldn't sleep, too worried about Morales,” Gene said. “Now I'm afraid I got you into trouble.”

“We need to talk about this right now; we should be safe for a while here, but that won't last too long. They'll find out who I am and come checking. But first let's eat.”

I turned and grabbed a mug and filled it with coffee. Gene slipped a plate in front of me then sat down beside me at the table.

“You know, I've been thinking about that all night,” he said. “I've got a solution, but I'm not sure if you want to hear it.”

“Spit it out Gene, I'm in this as deeply as you are now.”

“Well, I got out of the office dressed as your secretary, and I was thinking, how would you like to have a full time one at no cost?”

I almost spat a mouthful of coffee across the room, “What? That would mean dressing as a woman all the time!” I took a deep breath, “I mean, where would you live, how would you get back and forth from work, where...?”

“Listen, listen,” he interrupted. “I really want to live as a woman full time, and with your help I can do it. In return, I'll be your office secretary. You can introduce me as your cousin from the Cape who just moved up here. For the rest of it, if you let me live here, you won't regret it. I'm a great cook, I went to the Cordon Bleu cooking school on First Street in Cambridge after high school, and I'm no stranger to a vacuum cleaner, as you seem to be.”

By now tears were running down his cheeks, and I felt like a heel.

“You're not planning on wearing my clothes all the time are you? We'd have to buy you quite a wardrobe you know.”

I was wearing down, damn, I'm a softie. “Just where is that money going to come from?”

With that he grinned from ear to ear. “Look in that purse you had me carry, go ahead,” he urged.

I grabbed the purse, it was surprisingly heavy. “Holy mackerel, what's in here, rocks?”

“Even better,” Gene smirked. “Open it, open it,” he urged.

Why not? I looked inside, and almost fainted; there was packet after packet of $100 bills, with the bank wrapper still on them.

“How much is in here?” I yelled. “They're going to kill us.”

“Now you know why I was so desperate when I ran into the office trailer,” Gene said. “I found that tucked behind the passenger seat in my truck. You're looking at about fifty grand.”

Now he had me sputtering. “But, who, oh crap.”

I choked on my coffee again. Thanks to Gene, who slapped me between the shoulders, I got my breath back, but before I could say anything, Gene jumped in, “I think I know where to find the money for clothes.”

Did I say I'm an engineer? Our minds work differently then other people. See a problem, fix the problem. I was hooked.

“Even with that much money, we still need to be careful how much we spend Gene. This means Walmart, Marshall's and thrift stores, nothing fancy. Then there's makeup, and making you a woman in how you act.”

“I've kinda been doing it for a while,” Gene protested, “Try me.”

I tossed an empty coffee cup at him, he closed his knees together to catch it, even though he was wearing a dress.

“That's what I'm talking about. A woman would have spread her knees, catching the cup on her dress,” I said.
“Our lives depend on it. Enough. We need to go shopping. Let's get dressed and put on some makeup, and start Ellen's Finishing School when we get back.”

To be continued.

Many thanks to Bronwen for fixing the typos and grammar.