I lifted my head and looked across into the mirror running along behind the bartender. With a sigh, I lifted my glass and drained the last of the cranberry juice from the glass, then slid it back away from me as I slipped off of the stool and tugged on the open front of my long wool trench coat. I fingered the meticulously pulled curl that was framing the right side of my face and sucked in air quietly through my teeth as I picked up my case and headed for the door.

"Have a good night, Chau..." came her voice as she polished the countertop that didn't need it.

I nodded as I pushed open the heavy oak slab.

I stopped, just outside in the just-beginning mists of rain, and looked up at the night sky. I shuffled down the three blocks to the town square where the gazebo was, aware the entire time that Beth and Ramona would lecture me on posture and pride and confidence and... and lots of things that I do wrong. What was the point?

I stopped in the gazebo, and just sat and rested for a moment. The rain -- or threat of rain, even -- would keep a lot of the locals from being out, but the tourists wouldn't be bothered.

After a moment or three, I pulled my trumpet out and started. Softly at first for a few songs, and then losing myself like I always did, just letting my soul pour out through the three valves. I paused and opened my eyes. There was a crowd, and I looked down. The trumpet case had a respectable amount of cash in it.

I smiled kind of weakly at my "patrons" and slipped back into the music. I forgot about the crowd. Forgot about the past year. Forgot about everything... except the music. I don't know how long I played, but I felt a bit better. They say that music soothes the soul, well... I don't know about all that, but it certainly makes me forget about how things are for a while.

As the world came back to me, and I saw all the umbrellas and heard the murmurs of appreciation. I nodded into the crowd and froze. While they slipped away into the darkness, going about whatever tourist errands they had interrupted to listen to my soul spill out, I just stared until they were all mostly gone. Then, when we were alone, I spoke.

"Um. Hi, Ramona. What, ah, what brings you to --"

"Just shut up, Chau."

"Yes ma'am. Shutting up, ma'am."

She made an annoyed noise in her throat. The crowd was mostly gone, so she helped me gather up the bills and change that had accumulated both in and near-ish the case, and then stow my horn inside.

We were silent.

After we finished, we walked together under the still sprinkling sky that hid the moon, sort of agreeing to go the same direction without saying anything.

"You know she's been drunk off her ass since you skipped."

"Geez, 'Mona..."

"No, Chau, you left without a single damn word. I could have told her where you'd be. I could have sent --"

"Leave my brother out of this."

"Right. You know if you ask me, I'll leave you here to your... whatever the hell you're doing... and go back, never mentioning I even saw you. But I wanna know. Why?"

"You know why, 'Mona."

I paused to kick a rock out across the glistening-wet faux-cobblestones of the street. Dammit. I don't want to cry.

She reached over and lifted my chin.

"Don't duck your head, little sister."

A sob and a chuckle fought free at the same moment, and the ridiculousness of that set me off.

We sat down right there and she hugged me through my soaked wool coat as I cried into her shoulder. I was afraid my sobs would knock her over, but she just stroked my head and made, "Shh-shh-shh-shh-shh," noises quietly as she rocked me softly. For some reason, it worked.

After a bit we stood up and started walking again. The rain had stopped, and everything had a sheen of glisten about it. Everything had a smell of spring rain, even here in the middle of the city.

We paused and I glanced in the window of an all-night coffeehouse. My hair was a wet and dripping mess. Any pale excuse for makeup I'd had on was long washed from my face by tears and rain. I glanced at her and jerked my thumb toward the place.

She nodded, and we made our way inside to a table. I stared out the window while she went up to order. I shucked out of my coat, letting it drip dry over the back of my chair.

She set a latte or a cappuccino or whatever it was in front of me. I grunted a thanks of some kind and took a sip. It was bitter, almost tasteless, and kind of nasty consistency. It was also hot. I took another sip.

"Okay. Now. Why?"

I sighed.

"You know, 'Mona, I left so I wouldn't have to answer shit like that."

"Too bad I found you then. Spill."

With a sigh, I ran my hand back through my hair, a habit from another lifetime. It made her smile.

"Why should you care?"

"Talk."

Another sigh. Another run through my drenched hair.

"Well... you remember that night at the glass house? The night I jumped into the solo piece last year?"

She frowned a moment while she searched her memory, then smiled.

"The night Beth told you she loved you."

"The night one of my best friends told me that he'd never accept me."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh. Well, I didn't feel quite... right... around Roger after that, 'Mona. I mean, he didn't act any different, and he was even all respectful. Hell, at one point he even made one of those comments that guys always make about lesbian fantasies when Beth kissed me at a gig."

She reached across the little table and took my hand, giving it a little squeeze.

"I... love... Beth. I really do. I ache for her constantly. But I can't be with her. It hurts more to be there with her and know that she's compromising herself, her beliefs... to be good to me."

"Oh, sweetie --"

"No, 'Mona. Just no. You have my brother. You know what love is. Pete has Ginny. Even Roger found someone. Beth... Beth has a promise of an imitation someday in the future that's undefined. I can't stand that. I can't hurt her anymore."

"Don't you see you're hurting her by running out like this? She's been blind stinking drunk for the past three months, Chau."

I tried not to show what I was feeling, but this woman has been able to read me like a book since we met.

"See, girl, I know you care. Look. It's not that undefined. At least, not if you come back. The band is long gone, so you really never have to associate with Roger again if you don't want. You have a therapist and you've been on the whole hormone thing for nearly a year. You've been living as a woman... the real you for 7 months. Why throw all that away?"

I started again with the body-wracking sobs. I kept the noise down, but some of the others in the coffeehouse looked over at us all curious-like.

"Don't you think that's hard for me? I love Beth. I need to be able to be myself, to be the woman I am. I need my friends, too, though. Roger won't even meet my eyes, 'Mona. Not even if we meet randomly at a gas station. He... when I went up to talk to him in the club that last night... 'Mona, ignoring me is one thing, I can handle that. But what he said..."

She lifted my face again and used her thumb to remove some clinging bit of outside from under my left eye.

"We all love you, Chau. Beth needs you, like you need her. To hell with Roger and people like him."

I lay my head down on the table and closed my eyes. I let my mind wander for a moment.

"I don't even know who I am, anymore, 'Mona."

I lie there a moment more. An eon more. Then I opened my eyes.

A tiny face was staring concerned into mine. Brows furrowed in pain as she felt it with me.

"I know who you are. You're the girl that's always playing the sad horn music in the park. Why are you so sad?"

"She's sad because her friend said something that was very mean to her."

"Oh."

"Elizabeth Ann! You leave those ladies alone. I'm sorry girls..." rambled the little empath's mother as she took her by the hand and led her away.

Elizabeth Ann turned and pulled her hand away and ran back to me, throwing her arms around me in the small-person version of a crushing bear hug. Her mother was horrified, but... it... helped.

"Thank you, Elizabeth Ann," I directed at the sweet little face.

"No problem, lady. Hugs make even the worstest hurts inside your heart feel better for awhile. And I bet the mean friend was a boy. Boys are gross. Just remember what my gran'pa says that words can't hurt you."

Her mother pulled her away, then... and paid their bill, all the while giving my new favorite child a lecture on the dangers of speaking to strangers. I looked over at Ramona.

"Wise words from the wisest of sources."

I smiled, and looked out the window to where Elizabeth Ann was still being scolded as she was strapped into a carseat.

Then I whispered, "Thank you, Elizabeth Ann."