Chapter 10 - Doubts
Corrine began her hormone treatment in early June, having finished her first year of college with largely top grades.

The expectation of life ahead as Corrine filled her with both apprehension and promise; there was little doubt that were she to continue living a life as a man named Corey she had numerous avenues toward successful careers in various endeavors. Perhaps she could be a writer; hadn’t Professor Brooks told her she had “a real talent for writing?” Or, she could become a famous male fashion designer, like Christian Dior or Ralph Lauren. Yet, she knew she could no longer live a lie; she was Corrine and she would have to meet all the challenges that a life as a transgendered woman would face. It was scary, yet exciting.

Now, with school ended, she would begin living fulltime as a woman. The boy clothes were jettisoned from her closets and taken to the Salvation Army store for resale or dumped if too worn and frazzled. Her mother had informed her beauty shop’s customers that henceforth “Mr. Corey” would be “Miss Corrine,” and the announcement was largely greeted with smiles and words of support. Two older, longtime customers, Mrs. Henrietta Schilz and Miss Deirdre Chambers, said they were shocked by the “unchristian” and “filthy” change and announced they’d be seeking to get their hair done elsewhere.

“Mother, I’m sorry you lost those customers because of me,” Corrine lamented.

“Please don’t be. While I’ll miss Henrietta’s stories of her kids, I’ll not miss Deirdre’s sour face. But dear, they’ve been so influenced by Father Morse at IC parish, I’m not sure they’d understand,” Debbie Sullivan replied.

“I hope no others will quit you, too, mother.”

“I know. At least those two were up front about it. We’ll see, but my guess is that some might try someplace else, but soon return.”

“I hope.”

*****
In honor of Corrine’s first week as a woman, Maureen invited Amy and Corrine to her family’s yacht and a ride up the Milwaukee River, complete with a celebratory dinner on Saturday night.

“Don’t worry, Corrine. My parents are OK with it, and I’m really a good boat captain,” Maureen assured her.

“Are you sure your dad won’t hate you for treating me like this?” Corrine asked.

Maureen laughed. “He’ll get over it. It does him good to be rejected by a pretty woman every so often.”

The girl had explained that both her mother and herself had been aware of Jason Penney’s philandering for years. “Mom and dad have given themselves pretty much freedom to do what they want, but I know they love each other,” Maureen assured her, repeating an explanation that Corrine had heard before.

Such an open arrangement bothered Corrine. For herself, she looked forward to having a man love her, and only her. And, she would be loyal to him as well. For, such aa man was Adam.

It was an unusually warm night for June in Milwaukee, where summer temperatures rarely hit the city (due to its proximity to the frigid Lake Michigan) until July. The three girls embarked from their anchored location at the marina at the mouth of the river with the sun still high in the western sky. It would be nearly nine o’clock before sunset, and they jockeyed along with several other boats for the leisurely cruise up the river.

“To Miss Corrine Sullivan on her birth,” Amy said in raising her plastic champagne glass in a toast. The three girls linked glasses and then sipped their drinks.

The trip was also a “going away” party for Amy, who would be taking the bus the next day to return for the summer to her home in northern Wisconsin. There were tears shed by the three girls whose friendship had grown immensely during the school year.

“But you’ll have Josh around to cheer you up, Amy,” Corrine said, referring to her friend’s boyfriend who also had returned to his home for the summer.

“But we won’t be able to see each other too often,” Amy explained. She was to work as a counselor at a summer camp nearby while Josh would be working in the woods for Adam’s company.

It turned out to be a magical evening; Amy docked the boat at a popular bar and grill where the three girls enjoyed a dinner together. They were besieged by looks from young men and even a few occasional flirtatious remarks, most aimed at Corrine. The girl rejected the advances with cheerful retorts. They giggled after they returned to the boat about the foolishness shown by the young men.

“Isn’t a great being a girl, Corrine?” Amy asked as they cruised in the gathering darkness down to the dock.

Corrine smiled and the three girls joined each other in a group hug. Yes, it indeed was great!

*****
The break from school work was welcomed by Corrine as she settled into a routine of working mornings on designing and making dresses that had been commissioned by her wealthy customers, nearly all of whom had been recruited by her enthusiastic supporter, Emily Penney. It appeared Corrine’s rejection of Jason Penney’s business offer and his attempted sexual advances had not ended the Penney family’s friendship and support. Corrine’s mother had opened up a room that lay vacant – except for some minor storage – in the back of the shop. With income from her earlier orders, Corrine had purchased a used, but more efficient, sewing machine and jury-rigged assorted rejected furniture pieces to create working space.

In the afternoons, Corrine handled her hair appointments; even though she was now presenting herself as Corrine, she had lost none of her personal customers. Instead, they were all supportive and impressed with her transformation into a lovely woman. Her schedule made for a busy life, but Debbie Sullivan urged her new daughter to “take some time off for herself” and accommodated that recommendation by closing the shop at 1 p.m. on Saturdays. She also refused to let Corrine work on Sundays in the dress shop. “You need your beauty rest, dear,” she ordered.

Most Saturday nights, and often on Sundays, Corrine joined with Maureen. They’d get together for a dinner and maybe take in a movie; sometimes they’d sit and talk for hours, it seemed, in a coffee shop, each with their tablets. Corrine usually attracted the most attention, which bothered her greatly since she was concerned about hurting Maureen’s feelings. One Saturday night, Maureen finally got a date – arranged, it appeared, by her cousin Will who was about her same age. He had asked if Maureen had a girlfriend who might be free to be his “date” for the night the night. They’d go out as a foursome to a concert by a favorite group at the Pabst Theatre.

Corrine was reluctant since she felt loyal to Adam; the two had been calling each other nightly and he was promising to come down to Milwaukee for the city’s annual “Summerfest,” often billed as the nation’s largest music festival, at the end of June. Amy and Josh were coming as well for a weekend of “fun.”

“He knows you have a boyfriend, Corrine,” Maureen said. “Please join us, just for the night.”

In the end, she agreed, mainly because she didn’t want to disappoint her friend who was eager to develop a relationship with a boy. Corrine was afraid her friend might become intimidated by her own easy ability to win the attention of the male sex, even though her time as a girl was only beginning.

The decision, however, bothered Corrine, and she wondered whether she should tell Adam that she would be going out with another young man.

“You don’t need to ask Adam’s permission to go out, dear,” Debbie Sullivan advised her daughter.

“It’s not a matter of asking his permission, mother, but I just think he should know about it.”

“Why? You’re not his fiancée are you? He hasn’t given you a ring, has he? And, how do you know he isn’t dating someone else up there in his hometown?”

“True,” Corrine agreed. She and Adam had never agreed that their brief time together was the beginning of an exclusive relationship.

“You’re assuming a lot, dear,” Debbie said. “Go out and enjoy the concert. It doesn’t hurt to get to know lots of young men. You’re still young. If Adam asks what you’re doing this weekend, tell him. It’s always good to be honest, and tell it’s because you wanted to go to the concert and joined with Maureen and her friends.”

Corrine felt relieved after the conversation with her mother. She was so happy she got along with her mother so well, since she knew several girls who were hardly on speaking terms with their own mothers.

“Great, go and have a marvelous time,” Adam said quickly after she told him of her acceptance of a concert date during their phone call that evening. Corrine was surprised he didn’t sound jealous, having not questioned her more completely on the details.

“I wish you were here to go with me, Adam,” she said, seeking to gain another response from him.

“Me too, and I wish you were here with me this weekend,” he replied.

“Why? What’s going on?”

“The Rotary Club is having its annual Founders Day Dance at the Elks Club Hall, and I’m on the committee. It’d be great to have you here as my dance partner,” he said.

“I’d love that, but I’m not much of a dancer,” she replied. “I’ve not had much experience dancing.”

“I’m not either, but we could learn together.”

“Who will you dance with Saturday night, Adam?” she asked, suddenly regretting the question since it reflected a tinge of jealousy that she unexpectedly felt when he mentioned he’d be at a dance without her.

“Hmmm. That’s a good question, sweetie. I got my eye on this one girl who’s hot,” he teased.

“Adam, forget I asked. It’s none of my business who you dance with,” she said, obviously not sensing the teasing nature of his comment.

“The problem is,” Adam said. “She’s not here but she’s down there in that big city.”

“Oh Adam,” she retorted. “Don’t do that.”

“Were you just a bit jealous, sweetie?” he asked.

“I don’t think so. Well, maybe a little bit,” she admitted.

He laughed. “I thought so, but then so am I, but I know we’re really not engaged or even pinned, so we should go out and have fun.”

“OK, you’re right.”

“Just don’t have too much fun!”

She laughed. “Nor you.”

“I think I love you, Corrine.”

“I love you, too, Adam.”

“Can’t wait to see you on our Fourth of July,” he said.

They made noisy smooch kisses to each other and hung up. Corrine felt a warm flush and realized that her panties had grown moist.

She lay back on her bed, dressed only in her panties and a light cami, imagining herself in the arms of Adam gracefully circling about the floor to a Strauss waltz at a Victorian Era dance. Both were elegantly dressed, she in a multilayered gown and he in tails. She fell into a contented sleep.

*****
Helen Comstock came home to Milwaukee for the summer for her internship. Corrine had told her during their phone chats that she was now living fulltime as a woman, a fact that at first surprised Helen. She recovered quickly, however, commenting, “I’m sure you’re a very attractive woman, but I’m still not used to calling ‘Corrine’.”

When the two first met in early June, shortly after Helen’s return to the city, Helen looked at her friend as they gathered at the lakefront coffee house. “Wow. You’re absolutely beautiful.”

They hugged tightly as two long-separated girlfriends might.

“It’s so good to see you, Helen,” Corrine said, still continuing to hold her friend closely.

“You feel so nice in my arms and you smell so nice, too. You’ll need to give me some fashion tips. I’m such a dunce in dressing up. I have no style, Corrine.”

“You’re just naturally pretty in whatever you wear, Helen,” Corrine said truthfully. “Some girls really don’t need lots of makeup or stylish clothes. Besides, it’s what you feel is important.”

“You always have been a sweet friend.”

It was a warm day and the two took their coffees to an outdoor table, finding a table in the shade of a tree. The bright morning sun sparkled in reflection off the blue waters of Lake Michigan; there was little breeze, rare for early June when easterly winds off the cold waters of the lake so chilled the air that outdoor seating was for only the hardiest of souls. Helen was dressed casually in a simple sleeveless print dress that went to just above her knees, a style that obviously fit the dress-down environment of a nonprofit agency like the ACLU. Corrine, of course, was dressed more stylishly, as she had to return to her mother’s salon for hairdressing appointments. She also was to measure a prominent woman (referred to her by Emily Penney) for a gown in the afternoon.

Corrine asked if Lionel was still due to come to Milwaukee for a visit.

“He’ll be here for a few days around the Fourth of July,” she said.

“He sounds like a gem, Helen.”

“Until Lionel came along, I’ve never had a closer friend than you, Corey . . . ah . . . Corrine,” she said giggling over her gender stumble.

“I was so flattered by your friendship to me in high school. No one ever seemed to give me a second notice then, except maybe to ridicule me. But you did seem welcoming to me. I even pondered whether I could be your boyfriend. Wouldn’t that be a joke?” Corrine said.

“Not really,” Helen replied. “I wondered why you didn’t ask me for a date.”

“Me?”

“Yes, why not? Just ‘cause I was supposed to be the ‘queen’ of the school shouldn’t have stopped you.”

“I feared you’d laugh at me. After all you had all those hunks after you.”

“I know, but they’re so full of themselves and boring. You were smart, sweet, sensitive and believe it or not lots more fun,” Helen said.

“Well, now that you have Lionel and I have a friend in my Adam, we can be girlfriends, right?”

“Right. Let’s get-together while I’m in town. I’d like you to meet Lionel.”

“Cool and maybe you’ll be able to meet Adam, too,” Corrine suggested. “He’s supposed to be in town at that time, too, and we’ll be together a lot.”

*****
The Fourth of July weekend visit by Amy, Josh and Adam proved to be idyllic – a young woman’s dream. The three arrived on Wednesday, the day before the Fourth, in the late afternoon, in time for them to drop Amy off at the Sullivan’s house, where she’d stay for the visit. The two men were to sack in with one of Josh’s Milwaukee friends, who agreed to put them up.

Corrine rushed into Adam’s arms when the three pulled up in his diesel pickup truck, which had been cleaned up and sparkled as if it came right out of the showroom. She had been nervously awaiting their arrival, having debated about what to wear for the meeting. Since it was a warm day, she at first thought about putting on tight shorts that exposed her legs almost up to her pubic hair. No, she realized: that would be too outlandish and perhaps too suggestive that all she wanted to do was to stir his lust. She finally settled for a loose teal skirt with pink highlights that ended just above the knees and a light beige sleeveless top with a v-neck. She tied her hair into a ponytail, tucking the hair through the opening in the rear of a blue Milwaukee Brewers baseball cap.

Amy called almost hourly to keep during the six-hour drive, keeping Corrine informed of their progress. She last called as they had reached Germantown, a far northwest suburb. With the rush hour traffic, Corrine realized the three would not reach her house for at least another forty-five minutes; yet, within a half hour, Corrine found herself sitting on the small front porch of her home, eagerly waiting to greet them.

“It feels so good to be in your arms, Adam,” she said breathing hard, after their prolonged kiss and hug, when the travelers finally arrived.

“I couldn’t wait to hold you, and I’m afraid I may have pushed the limits of that old diesel truck a bit to get here,” he said smiling.

“God, you two are disgusting,” quipped Amy, after witnessing the shameless display of affection.

“Amy, just ‘cause you’ve been with Josh all day, doesn’t mean you can’t let me show Corrine a bit of affection,” Adam said.

“What will your neighbors think, Corrine?” Amy asked.

“Most are OK with Corrine, except for that jerk neighbor of ours,” Corrine said, pointing to the house next door where Mrs. Polakowski seemed to spend twenty-four hours a day peering out her window from behind the curtains; she had long been openly critical of the “sissy boy next door.” In truth, Corrine had been surprised at the positive reaction of most of the neighbors whom had seen the effeminate boy turn himself into a lovely young woman. To be sure, she had been hassled by a group of young hang-abouts who usually made snide comments when she passed them on her walk to and from the salon, but thus far none of the interactions seemed to pose any physical contact.

That evening, the four of them piled into Corrine’s mother’s Ford Focus to head to the lakefront for Milwaukee’s legendary Fourth of July fireworks display, crowding in with the hundreds of thousands of persons along the shoreline. The four were joined by Maureen and her new boyfriend on the hill at South Shore Park, crowding their blankets in among families, rambunctious children and aging couples that jammed the prime viewing spot. Later, Helen and Lionel joined the group, having been invited by Corrine once she and Adam had decided on viewing the fireworks. The friends had to bunch together more tightly to make room for the newcomers, but no one objected.

Helen looked as lovely as ever; the girl had never used much makeup, nor had she worn anything but modest outfits. She carried a natural beauty that accentuated her warm and pleasant disposition. That night she wore dark capri pants and a beige t-shirt emblazoned with the words “Women Rule!” Lionel was tall, lithe and strikingly handsome, bearing a close similarity to President Obama, but without the prominent ears. Helen had positioned herself next to Corrine and the two became chatting. Adam gained the attention of Lionel and the two engaged in an intense conversation.

As dusk descended, the lights of the city across the harbor began to dot the horizon, making even Milwaukee’s relatively modest skyline develop a sparkling look. Corrine shivered a bit from the chill of the evening, the coolness emanating from the still cold waters of Lake Michigan whose waves lapped along the rocky shoreline a hundred or so feet away. Adam wrapped his arms about her as he sensed her brief jitter and she settled in as the thousands on the hillside awaiting the beginning of the spectacular pyrotechnics.

Corrine felt fragile and weak in his arms; it was a welcoming, comforting sensation and something she’d never experienced before. She looked up at him, viewing his quiet demeanor and grew confident in his arms. Instinctively, she wanted to kiss him. He must have sensed her feeling for he looked down at her and moved his face toward hers. The kiss was long, moist and passionate.

“I love you, Corky,” he whispered when they parted.

Corky? Where did that come from? She’d never been “Corky” before, to anyone.

“Dare I love you?” she responded, growing concerned that she could never become the complete woman a strong, healthy man like Adam would require to get him through life. Could he truly be serious about his words of affection, or was he merely intoxicated by the environment of beauty in which they were both situated?

“What a strange question, darling?” he asked, keeping his voice soft and low, so as not to be detected by their four companions on the hillside.

Corrine sat up straight, moving out of his firm hold and looked at him.

“Let’s not ruin the night, Adam. Maybe we should just cool it a bit,” she said.

“I meant what I said, Corky dear. I do love you. Is that so hard to understand?”

“Shhh, darling. We can talk about it later.”

Just then there was a huge boom as a rocket went off, its sound waves shattering the lakefront, and signifying the start of the fireworks.

*****
She was “Corky” to him the rest of the weekend and he considered it a name that only he alone could use. Having overheard him referring to her as Corky, his sister Amy had also addressed her as Corky, only to be chastised by Adam, who warned her in a nearly menacing tone, “Only I can address her with that name, Amy. Don’t ever do so again.”

The three couples spent most of the weekend together. During one of the Summerfest outings, Helen and Lionel joined them as well. They jostled with the throngs at Milwaukee’s massive summer music festival, taking in the many musical groups, browsing the stalls of vendors, partaking of food from some of the city’s finer restaurants that had set up booths and, of course, enjoying a few overpriced drinks. (The festival is careful to watch for underage drinking and thus all four stuck to soda, even though Adam was “legal.”) They giggled and laughed and even danced on the asphalt grounds to the rhythms of some of the groups.

Adam and she were rarely left alone, always being joined either by his sister and Josh or Maureen and her boyfriend or sometimes by all. Corrine was both pleased and disappointed by their lack of privacy, having been afraid to continue the conversation over her discomfort with Adam’s attentions, yet excited to feel herself deep in his embrace as his lover. They parted each day with innocent goodnight kisses and hugs.

Even though Amy had the spare bedroom in which to sleep each night, she chose to climb into bed with Corrine. Their embraces were long and comforting, but hardly sexual as they once had been.

“My brother’s in love with you, Corrine,” Amy whispered into Corrine’s ear as they snuggled together.

“He told me, and I don’t know what to do. I’m still not a complete woman so how can he love me?”

“But you will be, once you have your operation,” Amy said.

“I can never give him children, Amy, and he deserves that,” she said, beginning to cry.

Amy let her friend sob softly, holding her tightly.

“He truly loves you. Please don’t reject him too easily. I’ve never seen him so taken with a girl before and he’s had plenty of chances back home.”

Corrine merely nodded and said nothing; soon Amy fell asleep and Corrine moved away from her and tried to sleep herself. For a while, all she could do was to think about the possible disappointment for Adam in the future when the reality sunk in that she never could provide him with a family. She figured she must break off the relationship; Adam deserved a real woman.

*****
"No, Adam, not now, please," Corrine said, pushing him away as he attempted to hug her when he arrived Sunday morning, along with Josh, at the Sullivan household to pick up Amy before the four began their long drive back to Pine Valley. Corrine and Adam stood in front of the Sullivan home, awaiting Amy, who was hurriedly packing up her clothes in the house. The two girls had dawdled in bed together, enjoying each other's embrace, delaying Amy in packing for the return trip.

He looked surprised at her obvious rejection of his advances.

"Are you sick, or something, Corky?" He asked. "You must be. Your eyes are so red."

"I didn't get much sleep last night," she said.

"I'm sorry, honey, but something else is wrong, isn't it?"

Corrine looked at the husky young man standing before her. He was wearing shorts that exposed his muscular, tanned legs and a gray tee-shirt with the words, "Hartmann Foresters," emblazoned across the front. It was tight on his hard body and the sight was intoxicating. She was trying to end the relationship with the absolute wonderful man, and yet she couldn't resist him. She yearned to be held against his rock-solid frame, to feel his hands run up and down her slender back and to touch his lips with hers so that she could taste him. Her desire was taking charge, overriding her resolve to bring a finish to this marvelous interlude in her life.

She said nothing to Adam and instead looked away from him, wishing Amy would hurry to load her suitcase in the rear bed of the pickup along with the traveling bags so that the four could leave her home.

"Are you mad at me?" He queried.

"Oh no, Adam, I could never be mad at you. Never. It's just . . . " her words trailed off, as she became unsure as to what she wanted to say.

"Then, what is it?" He persisted.

"It's nothing. Maybe it's just a girl thing," she said, hoping that he might attribute her attempt at being cold and stand-offish to female hormones causing troubles with her mood.

"I'm sure it's something, but Corky don't you think we should have one last kiss before I leave, in memory of the most wonderful weekend I think we both enjoyed. Or, at least, I had. I thought you enjoyed it, too."

"Oh, I did, Adam. I did. It was awesome."

Realizing that she couldn't let him begin the trip on such a sad note, she moved close to him, and raised her mouth to meet his; he pulled her toward him and their lips met and soon they were linked together in a warm embrace. She felt his unshaven face, the bristles of his beard chafing her soft skin and smelled the subtle scent of a male deodorant, and the feel of his body made Corrine grow weak in his arms. She was meant to be in his arms, she realized.

"Enough of that you two," yelled Amy as she and Josh walked out of Corrine's home with Amy's suitcase and a smaller bag.

The two didn't immediately disengage bringing another cry from Amy: "What will Amy's neighbors think? Doing this is broad daylight on a Sunday morning when people should be in church."

Corrine and Adam broke their impassioned hug. After prolonged kisses and farewell hugs, the four climbed into the cab of the pickup. Corrine watched as the pickup drove down Dover Street to the stop sign at Kinnickinnic, its left rear light blinking to signal a left turn onto the busy street on its way to the freeway.

She felt she would remember that sight forever. She had been unable to tell Adam they could no longer be lovers, but she felt she had to break it off, for Adam's own best future. It hadn't really been right for her to break it off that morning after such a great weekend. Perhaps next time.

*****
At first, Corrine couldn’t bring herself to break off the relationship. The time never felt right; besides, Adam was always so sweet during their nightly calls. Several times, she sent out hints to Adam, suggesting the difficulties the two might have to endure due to her questionable gender status, but he refused to pick up on the topic.

After several weeks, Corrine finally tried to be more pointed in her words, “You know, Adam, I’m several years away from being a woman you can make love to.”

“I love you now. That’s all I need,” he said.

“But, you’re a man who needs satisfaction?”

“Yes, and I get so passionate for you, Corrine, even if I can’t have you in that way right now. Let’s wait for that, dear. It’ll be so much sweeter after the wait.”

“You’re sure about that?” she asked.

He laughed. “I’m sure. By the way, our company is going to get an award from the environmental group up here for our logging practices. They are citing us for being careful in how we cut and market our timber while still making a profit.”

“Congratulations,” she said, acknowledging to herself that he wanted to change the subject.

“Thank you.”

They hung up with the usual phone line kisses. While Corrine welcomed Adam’s openness to her gender status, she wondered if he truly could be satisfied with her, even after the operation. While some girls truly did experience great sexual satisfaction in love-making after the surgery, some did not and had difficulty getting to orgasm. If that were the case with her, Corrine wondered whether Adam would continue to be happy with her.

It made for uneasy sleep that night. As so often happened in such nightly musings, her mind scooted off into a whole host of new troubles and worries, the most serious of which was the thought that perhaps Adam was getting some sex to satisfy his urges, likely from some local girl who was easy with her favors. Or, perhaps, she feared, her paranoid senses growing more intense, Adam had returned to his old girlfriend, with whom she was certain, he had slept with regularly. If so, why was Adam still expressing his love for her? Would it be only to satisfy some prurient desires to explore love-making with such gender-confused body as her own?

She knew Adam had healthy sexual habits from the hugs they had both enjoyed; he often grew to heavy breathing and she could feel his manhood push into her tummy as they embraced. She suspected he had masturbated often after their hug-filled meetings. Despite all her misgivings, Corrine was in love with him and he said he loved her. Could such love be real?

*****
“My Lionel really liked your boyfriend, Corrine,” Helen Comstock told her during the first phone call the two had shared since the Fourth of July visits.

“Adam said he liked Lionel, too,” Corrine replied. “They seemed to get into the most intense conversations, but I never had a chance to ask Adam what that was all about.”

“Lionel filled me in on our long trip back east. It was about Adam’s idea to set up a furniture factory in his small town, using hardwood from the forests in the area.”

“Yes, he’s told me about that idea, but he feels he needs a way to market the items in larger markets so he’s not sure it’s feasible,” Corrine acknowledged.

“You know, Lionel is aiming for an MBA and he had some thoughts for Adam. That’s what they were talking about.”

“Hmmm, sounds cool,” Corrine agreed. “Adam mentioned to me that Lionel had an idea about how to sell his furniture, but we didn’t have much time to talk about it.”

“Those two really hit it off well.”

“Awesome,” Corrine said. “He’s a real charmer, and so polite and well-spoken. And handsome, too.”

“I feel so lucky, but I just wish mom and dad would be more open to him. They never were racist in the past, always telling us kids to be open to everyone. They claim it’ll be difficult to have a mixed-marriage, tough on the kids and that’ll lead to unhappiness,” Helen said.

“There’s lots of mixed marriages these days. Maureen is in the same boat you are, too.”

“I know, but they just keep telling that for my own good I shouldn’t get too close to Lionel. I think it’s real love, Corrine. I do.”

“You need to follow your heart, dear.”

*****
Corrine Sullivan turned nineteen years old that summer, celebrating an early August birthday with little fanfare. Her mother, Debbie, had become worried in the weeks leading up to the birthday, fearing that her daughter had been working too hard. Corrine’s dress business was booming, with orders coming in faster than the girl was able to handle. To meet the demand, Corrine set her alarm each morning for 5 a.m., weekends included, in order to shower and prepare herself for the day ahead; she always insisted on dressing stylishly but comfortably, even if her day was to be spent largely in the backroom of her mother’s salon working on designs and dressmaking. By 6:30 a.m., after a breakfast of yogurt, fruit and a single slice of toast, Corrine headed off down the block for the short walk to her dress studio. She worked steadily until 3 p.m. taking only a short lunch break to consume more fruit and veggies from the small refrigerator her mother kept in the backroom. Even then her day of work wasn’t done; at 3:30 p.m., she moved to the salon to do hair appointments until the last customer left about 6 p.m.

“No young lady should work as hard as you do, Corrine,” her mother said after several weeks of observing her daughter appear to lose weight and to grow less cheerful, sometimes even uncharacteristically curt with customers.

“That’s OK, mom. I need to make money now,” Corrine replied.

“At least, you can stop working in the salon, dear, and concentrate on your dress business.”

“No, mother, I’d hate to disappoint my customers and besides you need my help for your business,” Corrine said.

Debbie Sullivan shook her head. “Look, Corrine. This has been my most profitable year ever and I’m doing fine, and a lot of our success is due to you. But you’ve shown me that I need to build a younger clientele and Maria Sanchez has become available now for fulltime work. She’s young and knows the younger styles, too.”

“Mom, Maria is great, but I need to pile up as much money as I can for my surgeries. I want to be a complete woman as soon as I can,” Corrine said. Even though she was pushing Adam out of her life, she suspected her motivation to speed up her feminization schedule had been prompted illogically by her hopes to satisfy that handsome logger.

“But if you don’t slow down, you won’t be much good to anyone. You should find time to go out and have some fun for yourself.”

“Maureen and I are going out Saturday night to Festa Italiana at the lakefront,” Corrine said, hoping that might quiet her mother’s nagging concerns.

In fact, since Adam returned to his home, the coming outing with Maureen would be the first bit of socializing Corrine would be doing. Besides the nightly calls with Adam, Corrine had become text buddies and had many long phone calls with Maureen, who was mooning over the breakup with her boyfriend. Corrine felt both a fondness and frustration with her friend, who had become more and more self-chastising. It didn’t help that her father nagged her about her appearance, particularly claiming "Maureen, you’re fat” and that “no man would ever want you.” Corrine tried to argue with her friend, claiming that Maureen was a lovely, warm-hearted girl who was not “fat.” But, Maureen would have none of that, always noting she weighed several pounds over the “recommended weight” for a girl of her age and height. Corrine’s further argument that Maureen’s large-boned body, ironically due to her father’s own husky frame, required a few extra pounds, also did little to restore the girl’s self-esteem. It was Corrine who suggested going to the late July ethnic festival in the hope a night out where the two girls might meet other young people would cheer her friend up.

“Well, that’s a start, dear, but you must take more time for yourself,” Debbie said.

“I’m going to be getting some help in my dress studio, mom,” Corrine said. “Maureen wants to come in a few days a week to help out, you know making calls, setting up appointments and doing my books. She doesn’t want any pay, but I’m going to pay her anyway.”

Corrine was excited that her friend would be joining her business; while Maureen was not a particularly design-conscious person, she had a level head and was much better organized than Corrine herself. Besides relieving much of the day-to-day pressures, Maureen’s presence would offer a chance for some social interchange while they worked.

Festa Italiana is one of the many ethnic festivals that occupy Milwaukee’s huge Summerfest grounds for a weekend each summer; it brings in several hundred thousand fans from nearby Midwestern states, mainly those of Italian heritage. Several traditional groups from Italy are on show, along with some 25 other bands, mainly playing oldies. Thus, the crowd is mainly gray-haired women and balding, chubby men, with a smattering of younger folks.

Both Maureen and Corrine preferred the older music and the annual festival was always a “must” for both of them. Saturday was warm, but both girls carried light jackets to be ready in case a chill might develop as it grew dark and a breeze might develop off the cold water of Lake Michigan. The two filled up on Italian foods, with Maureen commenting, “Well, I may as well eat and enjoy myself. Maybe some Italian guy might like a fat girl.”

Corrine chastised her friend, whose concern with her weight was becoming an obsession. “You’re not fat and you’re a perfectly lovely girl,” she said.

They had found an empty picnic table on the lakeshore to finish off calzones, when two young men approached and asked, “Mind if we share your table? The others seem all full.”

Maureen looked up from her dessert and noticed both were carrying paper plates with pizza and cups of beer. “Not at all. We’ve got room.”

Maureen and Corrine were sitting opposite each other at one end of the table, and the two boys did the same, the shorter, swarthy one sitting on the same side with Maureen, with the other boy, taller and light-complexioned, sitting on Corrine’s side. Both girls noticed that the boys did not sit at one end, but rather nearer to the middle and closer to the girls.

The boys must have noticed the skeptical looks from the girls and the shorter one quickly said, “Oh, we just thought we’d leave the other end of the table for anyone else needing a seat.”

Corrine wondered if that was the real reason for their choice of seating, or if they had other motivations, namely that of flirting with them. Maureen, however, smiled at the boy who spoke.

“That’s being considerate,” she said. “Are you boys having fun?”

“Not too much yet. This music’s kind of corny,” the shorter boy said.

“Well we like it,” Corrine said, pointedly, feeling somewhat violated by the way the young men seemed to take it for granted that the girls would welcome their attention.

“I’m sorry. Tony shouldn’t have said that,” said the other boy. “I like some of it, especially that one Italian guy who sings a few operatic tunes along with the pop stuff. He’s got quite a voice.”

“Oh you mean Mario Fruzzetti. Yes, he’s my favorite,” Corrine said.

The boy smiled. “By the way, I’m Craig, and this is my friend, Tony. We’re both from Chicago and this is our first time here. It’s really great!”

“I thought you weren’t having much fun,” Maureen said, with a giggle.

“Actually it is pretty good,” said the first boy. “And what are your names, may I ask?”

“I’m Maureen and this is my friend Corrine.” She smiled at both the boys.

“Nice meeting you,” Tony said.

For the rest of the night, the two girls joined with the two young men in visiting the many booths of vendors and listening to various singing groups, including the plethora of Italian tenors all trying to duplicate the singing of Frank Sinatra or Tony Bennett. The four of them giggled and even tried several times to dance between the seats and tables when the rhythms seemed to demand it.

Tony, who wore a muscle shirt and shorts, had thick, muscular arms and legs, matted with black hair. He worked for his father’s produce business in Chicago, and from the way in which the young man was spending money it appeared he came from a prosperous family. Craig, on the other hand, was slender; he wore a loose fitting open collared shirt and shorts. His arms and legs were sinewy and well-formed. He said he was a student at Roosevelt University in the Chicago Loop where he was a political science major. The two boys said they were classmates in high school and both played on the baseball team.

The evening ended with the gigantic fireworks display on the lakefront; and the four young people watched in awe from the huge rocks that lined the shore, each girl being held in the arms of the boys, ostensibly to protect them from tumbling into the lake. When a particular loud, colorful burst of pyrotechnics appeared, Craig pulled Corrine closer and attempted to kiss her.

“No, Craig. I have a boyfriend,” she said.

“I’m sorry. I just thought . . .” he said.

“I am in love but my boyfriend is working 300 miles away right now,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized and broke off his intimate hold on her.

Maureen, however, exchanged email addresses with Tony at the evening’s end. Perhaps there might be romance in the girl’s life at last.
(To Be Continued)
(Thanks to Eric for using his proofreading skills to help make this a better story.)