Chapter 8 - Corrine
Corey’s date with Stefan turned out to be a nightmare. It began innocently enough with Stefan coming to the door of the house while Josh and Amy waited outside in Josh’s ancient Ford Victoria – a roomy car that had spotlights affixed to each side of the car indicating it once must have been a police vehicle. Stefan was gentlemanly as he greeted Mrs. Sullivan, turning on what appeared to be a bit of phony Old World charm.

It worked since Debbie whispered into Corey’s ear as he put on a light spring jacket, “He seems like a nice young man, darling.”

Corey, however, was turned off by what he feared seemed to be an overkill of charm that might be hiding something more sinister. Was he for real? Since it was to be a casual date – pizza and a movie – Corey had dressed accordingly: he wore lavender tights, a denim mini-skirt with a peach-colored sweater over a cami. He wore plain, black flats and let his hair flow freely; he wore light makeup, with a neutral pink lipstick, a bit of mascara and just a hint of eyeliner. Corey couldn’t resist, however, dabbing a bit of perfume on his neck and on his chest, choosing Armani Code that has been a traditional favorite among young ladies with its spicy scent.

Leading Corey to the car by hand, Stefan helped Corey into the backseat, his left hand not so innocently caressing Corey’s bottom. With the first warning sign, Corey immediately became fearful, wondering if perhaps this “nice young man,” (as his mother had thought) was not more like many men from Europe who still feel that women are mere sex objects.

He crowded close to Corey, and his hand wandered to Corey’s thighs, and Corey gently removed them; the boy nestled in close to him and whispered: “You smell hot and sexy,” and Corey cursed himself for wearing such a notoriously seductive scent. They drove to a popular pizza place in the Bay View neighborhood that overlooked Lake Michigan. All the booths were full and the four young people were placed at a table; Corey feared that had they been seated in a booth he’d spend the entire time swatting Stefan’s hand away from his legs.

While the meal proceeded without incident, except for a few suggestive comments from Stefan that brought questioning looks that Corey shared with Amy. He could see his girlfriend quickly sized up the situation, although Josh appeared to be unfazed by Stefan’s remarks.

As girls usually do, Amy and Corey excused themselves to go to the ladies room together where Amy quickly apologized for encouraging the Corey should date Stefan. “I didn’t know he was like that,” Amy said.

“I guess maybe it’s my fault since maybe I gave him the wrong idea about me,” Corey said.

Amy laughed. “You do look hot, and what’s that scent you’re wearing? Even Josh said you smelled divine.”

“That was a mistake, but it’s Armani’s Code. And it’s really too expensive, but you know how we girls can be sometimes.”

“Yes, you’re quite a girl, Corrine,” Amy said as the two completed fixing their makeup and returned to the table.

At the movie house – one of those cinema palaces that was created in the 1920s and had recently been redone to feature lounge seating and small tables for snacks and drinks – Stefan suggested he and Corey should choose one of the love seats. “No, let’s sit here,” Corey said, pointing to two seats that were separated by two thick arm rests, making hugging and surreptitious groping nearly impossible.

“No, here,” he insisted, grabbing Corey’s hand to lead him to the love seat.

Corey resisted and pulled him instead to the two seat he preferred; rather than make a scene, Stefan followed but said as they sat down: “What’s matter? You no like Stefan?”

“Let’s just enjoy the movie,” Corey said.

The two barely talked the rest of the evening; it was obvious Stefan was angry, having been rebuffed from his apparent desire that the “hot girl” was going to be his sex partner. The evening ended without even a good night kiss; when they dropped Corey off at his house, the boy didn’t even walk his “date” to the door. Corey left Josh’s car, giving Stefan a curt “Thank you” and marched to the door.

Because Josh and Stefan were good friends, it was doubtful that Corey would be able to avoid the boy, but he hoped the young man had gotten any romantic ideas about being with Corrine out of his mind.

*****
"I was scared, mother," Corey confessed the next day when she asked him at breakfast how the date had been.

"I'm not sure I'm ready to be fondled and handled by a boy," he said.

His hair hung loose and his eyes were bloodshot, a result of the tears he had shed while trying to get to sleep pondering his behavior the previous night as well as the aggressive moves by Stefan.

"Most girls don't like that, either," his mother replied, reaching over and affectionately brushing a few stray hairs from the boy's face.

"I sort of wanted him to cuddle me a little, but he seemed so eager to do more. His hands were . . . I don't know how to say it . . . they were . . . rude. And he was panting, too."

"Oh, my darling Corrine, you are such a pretty girl and you arouse so many desires among boys, dear," his mother said.

"Did you feel violated, too, mother? You know when guys got too . . . ah . . . you know?"

Debbie Sullivan smiled. "You mean when they got too explorative? Yes, dear, I did."

"You must have had lots of boys after you, mother. You were so pretty," Corey said, remembering the old photo albums that showed his mother as a teen and young woman.

"And, you, my dear, are even more pretty than your mother," Debbie smiled.

Corey nodded, realizing that if he was to live soon as a young woman he would face many advances that might make him uncomfortable. He truly loved transforming himself into a fetching, soft, lovely girl, but he wasn't looking for lustful advances, just love.

*****
Stefan called Corey's cell phone a few days later, just as he was finishing up his hairdressing duties at the salon. Even though it had been a school day, he had returned home to handle two appointments in the late afternoon; his mother had to leave early since she had accepted an invitation from her new boyfriend, the local neighborhood business leader, to attend a banquet. Corey had cleaned up and was about to turn off the lights, lock the door and leave for the night when his phone buzzed.

Corey was tempted to hang up when he heard Stefan's accented voice, but felt he should give the boy a chance to have his say.

"I sorry about other night," he said in broken English.

"I am, too, Stefan," Corey said simply, without explaining further.

"Ah . . . " the boy stammered.

"What do you want?" Corey said firmly.

"I like you. Can we dinner?"

"No thanks, Stefan. Good bye."

"Wait, wait," he pleaded.

"What?"

"Why you act funny? I thought girls liked that."

"This girl doesn’t and I don’t think most girls do either.”

"OK, but I like you. You pretty. Let's meet."

"No, Stefan, not now. I have to think, now. Good bye."

He hung up on the boy. The phone rang back almost immediately, and the caller ID indicated it was Stefan. Corey let it ring and go to voicemail. He deleted the voice mail without listening to what Stefan had to say.

Corey sat down in one of the empty salon chairs, pondering the call. What was it with these guys who think they can treat girls like their sex slaves?

*****
As the spring wore on, Corey dressed in his male clothes only when going to school, working at the salon or in settings that required him to retain his male appearance. Otherwise he always wore his female clothes, including undergarments and night clothes; for most outings with Amy or when going places with his mother, he dressed as Corinne.

Amy apologized for Stefan’s behavior when the two got together on the following Sunday; they met at a popular French restaurant in a onetime factory district that was rapidly becoming gentrified. The restaurant, however, had been there years before the young professionals began moving in, an anachronism in an area of crumbling empty factory buildings and dilapidated, run down small homes. The two girls (Corey wore a lovely yellow spring dress and carried a wrap to ward against the chill of the day) were enjoying the brunch, a specialty of the restaurant.

“You couldn’t know, Amy. It’s not your fault,” he said.

“He’s really a sweetie, Corrine, but he’s still got his European mentality where the man is boss.”

“You’re probably right, but I’m just not ready for any hot sex, yet.”

Amy shook her head. “Then you’re not interested in another date with him?”

“Not at this time, anyway.”

“He’s really sorry, Corrine, and he really liked you.”

Corey stood his ground; he was not ready to date Stefan. He quickly sought to change the subject, and inquired over Amy’s relationship with Josh. “He’s really a nice guy,” Corey said.

“He’s a sweetie,” Amy said, a broad smile on her face.

“But aren’t you jealous that he might steal me from you?” Corey asked in a teasing manner.

“Oh my dear Corrine, it doesn’t mean we can be girlfriend lovers anymore,” Amy said, reaching over a caressing Corey’s face.

“I do love you,” he said, his voice soft so as to not be overheard. Fortunately, the place was packed – as it usually was on Sundays – and their voices were drowned out in the din of clinking dishes, conversation, bursts of laughter and an occasional whiny cry from an infant at one of the nearby tables.

After the two had finished their crepes and were relaxing with coffee, Amy announced: “My brother is coming down for a few days to visit, Corrine, and I’d like him to meet you.”

“You’re talking about Adam?” he asked, referring to the youngest of the three Hartmann brothers. Corey knew that Adam and Amy were always close and shared many confidences together.

“Yes, I can hardly wait to see him. Right now, during the thaw, it’s tough to get into the woods to cut and bring out timber so he’s got some free time. He’ll be down next Wednesday; he’s staying with an old high school buddy who lives in your neighborhood.”

“That’s great, but I don’t know if I should meet him,” Corey said. “What does he know about me?”

“Everything, Corrine. Everything. I hope you don’t mind. He’s really very . . .”

“How could you tell him that, Amy?” he asked sharply.

“Don’t be angry, Corrine. He’s very understanding.”

“But, how could you?”

“It’ll be all right, dear, and I really had no choice,” Amy began to explain. “He was wondering how I was getting along with my boyfriend, meaning you. Then I explained we were still friends, but that I was dating Josh, from our hometown. And, he knew how much I adored you, and he kept probing me as to why I dumped you in favor of Josh.”

Corey giggled and said, “Well Josh is a real man, for one reason.”

Amy laughed and continued: “Finally I had to tell him about your transition. He’s eager to meet you and I know he’ll just love you, just as I do.”

“We’ll see,” was all Corey could think to say. He asked for the check.

*****
From now on, it was to be Corrine, and she wanted to be referred to as “she” or “her.” Every chance she got to be the young woman she felt she was she would be Corrine. Only for her remaining classes at the University would she continue the charade as a young man named Corey.

Her mother had become more comfortable with her new daughter, except for the understandable oversight of calling her “Corey” while she was Corrine. Unfortunately, Debbie Sullivan was known to refer to “Corrine” while she was in the salon, where the creature named Corey still worked, gushing over his female customers as an effeminate hairdresser.

“Did she just call you Corrine?” Sonja Peplinski, one of Corey’s regular customers, asked after Debbie’s faux pas.

“Oh, did she?” Corrine responded, as if she didn’t hear.

“Maybe I was mistaken, Corey,” Sonja replied.

Corrine continued to work on the young woman’s hair and nothing was said for a few minutes.

“And, I hope you won’t get this wrong, Corey,” Sonja said. “You know you have lovely features and Corrine would be a nice name for you. That is, if you were a girl.”

“No offense,” Corrine said, wondering if Sonja was clued in on the fact that she was indeed a young woman.

During her earlier visits to the salon, Sonja had become aware of Corrine’s sideline of designing dresses and had inquired about whether she could afford one of Corrine’s creations. The two had discussed the possibility and on a succeeding visit Sonja raised the prospect that perhaps “Corey” should think about establishing a fulltime business or career designing and perhaps even custom producing women’s clothes.

With Sonja’s budding career in advertising and marketing, it was apparent the young woman had an entrepreneurial spirit.

“I’m sure with your connections through your wealthy customers and mine in the business community that we could get the needed investment,” Sonja suggested.

Corrine always rejected the idea; as much as she enjoyed designing and outfitting wealthy women, she felt that she had more to give to the world. She was truly interested in improving the lives of the needy people in the world, whether it was through social work or politics. She was truly becoming concerned with the vapid debates of the coming Presidential elections and worrying that they should be more deeply concerned about the many problems troubling the nation and the world.

“I feel I need to finish college first,” she repeatedly told Sonja.

Sonja’s every other week visit to the salon brought up the same discussion, with Corrine always agreeing she’d “consider it.” She knew she wouldn’t; satisfying women who had everything was not satisfying her at all. Putting warm clothes on a shivering child would seem more fulfilling.

*****
Amy had told Corrine not to dress too fancy for the outing with Adam, having persuaded Corrine to join them since it would not be a date or anything that would lead to a future date. “He just wants to meet you so be casual and be your natural self, darling,” she said. “After all you are my best friend and you should meet my favorite brother.”

Of course, Corrine fussed over what to wear; she was to meet Amy, Josh, Adam and Adam’s friend at one of the new “in-places” that were popping up in the Bay View neighborhood where women wore just about anything, ranging from shorts and jeans to skirts and from peasant blouses to tank tops. A few women might be in dresses.

It was promising to be an unusually warm April night so Corrine chose a full print skirt with a flowering design in greens, pinks and peach that reached below her knees. She put on a plain purplish button-down sleeveless blouse with a v-neck. She wore no stockings and beige ballet flats. She decided on wearing a necklace with a peace emblem and simple gold-plated earrings. She would carry along a light sweater in case she got cold.

Corrine felt totally feminine in the outfit; she loved how the skirt flowed around her legs as she walked. She knew it would show her off to be a most modest young woman; she was a woman, not a drag queen. She felt she didn’t need to put on sexy outfits to display her natural femininity.

*****
Corrine had worried that Adam only wanted to meet her to see what kind of a freak she was, this guy who was now a girl. Amy had assured her over and over again that “Adam is not that kind of guy. He’s loving and understanding, dear.”

It turned out to be a marvelously wonderful dinner time. At first, Corrine was not happy when she found herself sitting between Adam and his friend at a table for six in the crowded, noisy restaurant. It meant she’d likely have to converse with the two young men at her side, since any involved conversation across the table would be difficult because of the decibel level in the place.

“That’s so fascinating,” Corrine said as Adam described the logging procedures in the woods.

“Well, it’s a lot of hard work,” Adam said, laughing.

“Why do you think I moved down here?” Adam’s friend, Gary, said.

“Gary always was the smart one in our high school class, and he got out,” Adam said in a joshing tone.

“You love it up there, Adam,” Amy piped up, having obviously been able to hear some of the interchange.

“And don’t let Adam kid you, he really was the smart one in our class,” Gary said.

Amy then added, “And he was class valedictorian, too.”

“If I’m so smart what am I doing freezing my ass off in below zero cold cutting trees down?” Adam said.

Corrine was impressed with the good-natured jibes the group were exchanging. The four of them, including Amy’s new boyfriend, Josh, were from the same tiny logging community; she suddenly wished she could have been part of such a close-knit circle of friends. As a boy, she never could feel part of any group, and maybe she might find a group of girls who would accept her with the same spirit of camaraderie.

Soon, Corrine and Adam were engaged in a close conversation about what each wanted in the future. It began when Corrine asked: “I don’t get why you enjoy cutting down trees. That sounds so destructive.”

“What are you? One of those tree-huggers?” Adam said.

“Well, I don’t like the forests being destroyed.”

“Look, Corrine, I love trees and I love the forests and I want them to thrive forever. We only practice good forestry in our work and cooperate fully with the Forest Service,” he said. The family’s company largely only cut in National Forest areas.

The conversation soon moved to Corrine’s future desires with Adam wondering why she was reluctant to developing a dress designing business. “Amy tells me your dresses have been somewhat of a sensation already,” he said.

“They have been and I love designing them, but I think I want to do something more rewarding, something that helps people,” she said.

“That’s commendable, but you have to make a living, too,” he argued, then added as an after-thought, “Don’t you ever want to get married?”

Corrine responded with a slight giggle, “What man would ever want me?”

“Lots of men. You’re really very beautiful and sweet, Corrine.”

Corrine shook her head. “You do know I’m not a total woman, right?”

“Sure, Amy told me the whole story and once you get your surgery, I’m told, you’ll be that woman.”

“Not quite. I’ll look like a woman, I’ll react like a woman and I’ll feel like a woman to any man, but I could never bear his children,” she said.

“Well, you’re all woman to me, Corrine,” he said.

Without thinking, Corrine leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek. Instinctively, she regretted it.

Adam smiled back at her. “That was sweet.”

He then leaned over and kissed her on the lips, a slow passionate kiss.

“That’s enough, you two,” Amy warned from across the table.

“Wait, don’t I get a kiss, too,” Gary said.

Corrine turned to him and offered her lips; the boy gave her a short friendly poke.

“Yes, she’s all girl.”

After leaving the restaurant and saying good-bye to Amy and Josh, Adam invited Corrine to join him and Gary for a short drive along the lakefront to look at the full moon rising over Lake Michigan. She squeezed into Adam’s pickup truck between the two young men and they drove to park at South Shore Park to look at the view of Milwaukee’s downtown skyline across the harbor. They laughed and joked, but there was no further hint of love-making, which was just fine with Corrine.

Two days later, Corrine got a text message from Adam from Pine Valley:

“Thank you for a delightful time. I truly enjoyed your company and hope you enjoyed mine. The forest lanes are still too soft with the thaw so I’m not out destroying any trees. You should be pleased with that. Love to hear from you. Your friend, Adam.”

*****
“Your brother is a really nice guy,” Corrine told Amy when they joined for lunch on the Wednesday after Adam’s visit.

“I think so, and he thinks the world of you, too Corrine,” Amy said.

Both had settled for salads from the Salads Galore! Booth in the food court. While Corrine was still dressed in male clothes, the server nonetheless asked, “What can I get for you, miss?” Her androgynous looks marked her as truly feminine, and her regular identity as a female no longer bothered her; it merely confirmed who she really was.

In the eight months since Corrine and Amy became friends, the change in both was remarkable; Corrine of course had become truly feminine in appearance, while her friend had trimmed down and become a beautiful young woman. Though Amy was still a tall and husky girl, her body had become more firm, with her waist size growing slender helping to show her somewhat undersized breasts to greater advantage, thanks to Corrine’s advice on the type of bra to wear.

Anyone glancing over to the table they shared that day would have seen two lovely young women chatting animatedly together. Corrine had noticed that many of the males at the university seemed to be looking at her quite often.

“I was so afraid that Adam wanted to meet me just to see the type of weirdo his little sister had befriended, but he didn’t seem that way at all,” Corrine said.

“He really was interested in you as a girl, Corrine, not anything else,” Amy replied.

“It seemed that way, but he knew about how you first met me as a boy. He must have thought I must be some kind of freak.”

“He was shocked at first, but Adam went online and read lots about transwomen. So he understood.”

Amy then excused herself to get herself a refill of water and while she was absent from the table Corrine wondered whether Adam felt any affection toward her, whether he might have romantic intentions. The prospect worried her, since she hadn’t truly begun her transition and wasn’t quite certain how to respond to the obvious concerns of becoming an object of sexual attraction.

“I think Adam really would like to know you lots better, maybe even to date you, Corrine,” Amy said when she returned to the table.

“You can’t be serious. I’m not even a girl, yet, and any surgery for me is years down the road.”

Amy smiled: “That’s for him to consider, Corrine, but he would like you to try to come up north for a visit sometime this summer, and you know I’d love to have you.”

“I don’t know, Amy. Does the rest of the family know about me, too?”

“No, honey, they don’t. All they know that I am no longer friends with a boy named Corey and that I now date Josh. And, that I have a girlfriend named Corrine.”

Corrine shook her head. “It’s still risky for me to spend time there this summer, Corrine.”

“Don’t worry. Who’s to know? I won’t tell them and Adam certainly won’t.”

“Oh, I hate living a lie, Amy.”

“It’s not a lie, Corrine,” Amy said. “If you’re not a girl, I don’t know who is.”

*****
Corrine knew she had to reply to Adam, but she wasn’t sure what to say. The question haunted her as she rode the Green Line bus home from the University, barely looking out the window as the vehicle continued its stop-and-start trip through the city. She knew she had to respond, if just to be courteous and to please her friend, Amy. The question was: should she encourage any romantic feelings on her part? She was intrigued with the prospect of being in his strong arms, of relishing deep kisses and feeling his sweet caresses. She was certain that Adam, in spite of his strong, masculine appearance, would be a gentle and tender lover.

“I’m not a real girl,” she said to herself. “I can’t encourage him.”

About eight o’clock that night, a full day after his text, she finally texted him:

“Glad to hear you spared a few trees due to the thaw, but you must be eager to get back into the woods. Thank you for a nice night. Corrine”

She was pleased with what she wrote; her words were responsive to his text, but showed no hint of any romantic interest. She figured he would might never text her again and, if he did, it would be days or even weeks down the road.

Ten minutes later, her phone beeped; she had received a text message. It was from Adam:

“Dearest Corrine. You know I found you to be a truly sweet and lovely girl, or should I say, young woman. I truly do wish to know you so much better. I hope you don’t mind that Amy confided in me about your worries. I want to be your friend. Please let me be that to you. Much affection, Adam.”

She texted back immediately:

“Adam. You are my friend. I have much to think about. Corrine.”

It took Corrine half the night to finally fall asleep; her mind was active envisioning how it would feel to share a bed with Adam.

*****
“Don’t get too interested in that boy, Corrine,” Debbie Sullivan said to her new daughter.

“I know mother, and I’m trying not to, but he is so nice to me and appreciates me as a girl,” she said.

The conversation started as the two were cleaning up after their supper; both had worked at the salon until after seven o’clock. Too tired after a long day for both (Corrine had school and work, while her mother had put in eleven hours at the salon), their supper was a hobbled-together offering of frozen sausages they had microwaved, scrambled eggs and a salad, topped off with pineapple sherbet.

“Don’t get me wrong, Corrine. I like Adam from what I know and if he’s as sweet as his sister, I know he’s kind and caring. It looks they come from a loving family. Still, you’re not a complete woman and even if you do have the operations and all, you’ll still not be able to give him children.”

“Mother, it’s not like I’m going to marry him,” Corrine protested. “We just met and had one date.”

Debbie put an arm around her daughter and drew her close.

“I love you Corrine and I don’t want you to get hurt,” Mrs. Sullivan said, holding Corrine as she began to sob into her mother’s shoulder.

“Now dry your eyes and why don’t you go have a nice relaxing bath, dear,” Debbie said.

“But, I need to help you clean up here, mother. You worked hard all day yourself.”

Debbie shook her head. “No, go girl, I’ll finish up here. You luxuriate your lovely body in that nice sweet bath soap we have.”

Corrine broke from her mother’s arms and kissed her. “Thank you, mom. I love you.”

*****
The girl in the bathroom mirror was slender; she had smooth, soft looking skin. Her narrow shoulders and high thin neck gave way to a weak chest. Corrine both admired and detested what she saw; indeed, it was a lovely body for a young girl, but it lacked any round mounds of flesh to create breasts. Oh, how she wanted breasts, real breasts, not the phony ones she pressed and glued onto her chest temporarily to give her the curves she desired when she dressed en femme.

Give it time, she told herself. It was likely her hormone treatments would begin in summer and perhaps breasts would soon develop, as would more flesh to her thin buttocks and hips. All it took was time.

The mirror only showed her upper body and she looked down toward her toes, pleased with her narrow, not too large feet and skinny legs. They were indeed lovely legs and even when she wore boy shorts she had been told she had lovely legs, “just like a girl’s.” Ruining the picture, however, was the remaining male organ, surrounded by short blondish hair. Though it wasn’t large, it was still an ugly reminder that she still was a boy, or perhaps, a young man.

The bath did exactly what her mother said it would. She felt relaxed and content and returned to her room to put on her nightgown, a plain, pink light cotton, rayon affair trimmed in narrow lace. It had spaghetti straps over the shoulders and ended at mid-thigh. Since it was too early for bed, she put on a dark violet robe and fuzzy pink slippers and sat down at her computer to see if she could finish a short essay that had been assigned in her Advanced Composition class.

The assignment had been to compose a short narrative of 750 to 1,000 words that could be fictional or true. It had to contain some conversation between the protagonists. As a suggestion, the teacher suggested the writing could be based upon some personal incident in the person’s life.

After pondering, Corrine started with a title, hoping it would lead her into a narrative. The title was: “Finding my true self.”