Chapter 13 – A Question of Trust
Creations by Corrine hit full production by November 1, just two weeks after its grand opening ceremony; the publicity gained by the enterprise obviously gave it a boost that brought a steady stream of well-dressed ladies into this economically depressed neighborhood. Larry had hired two tuxedo-clad greeters – both husky and clean-shaven – to meet the customers, direct them to parking spots and escort them into the building.

"Don't you think that's a bit of overkill, Larry?" Corrine asked. "Shouldn't one be enough?"

"Maybe so and this area is safer than most people think. But our customers from the suburbs need reassurance," he said.

Just about every woman from the relatively small portion of Milwaukee's African-American population that could be considered affluent stopped by for a fitting; most ordered something. They intermingled with wealthy white women.

"This is a refreshing development in race relations, isn't it, Larry?" Corrine asked.

"Every little bit helps," he agreed.

The influx of orders was so great that Corrine was concerned that Creations would be unable to complete them by mid-December, since most were promised before the holidays. Shaundra, the motherly production manager, remained calm during the hectic early days; somehow she found skilled workers to fill an additional eight slots needed to meet the demand, including two male workers – both refugees from Vietnam – who had amazing skills in cutting materials and sewing.

"Don't worry your pretty head, Miss Corrine," Shaundra told her. "Just keep designing those pretty clothes."

Even though she was satisfied that Shaundra had the production issues under control, Corrine still felt overwhelmed by her schoolwork, the new business and the continual uncertainty of her personal life. The almost nightly phone calls with Adam, as well as the warm friendship with Amy, provided a welcome relief. In spite of the pressures, Corrine had never been happier; she was doing what she loved doing and it seemed to be making a positive impact on the community.

As Thanksgiving approached, Corrine and Larry were confident that the business would be able to fulfill the orders, as well as to plan for the spring fashions season.

On the Sunday before Thanksgiving, the Corrine's seemingly comfortable world crumbled. The city's major newspaper carried on a front page story headlined: "Budding Fashion Business Headed by Transwoman."

Corrine saw the story as she carried the paper from the front stoop of her mother's home; typically she'd spend Saturday night and most of Sunday at home with her mother, giving Amy free rein of the flat so that she and Josh could have privacy. As she pulled the paper out of its plastic wrapper, the article popped off the page, her image prominently displayed across several columns. The picture they showed obviously had been taken at the grand opening, showing Corrine in the forefront, holding up a gown, with the mayor in the near background. To make matters worse, the paper also displayed Corrine's high school graduation photo, obviously taken from the school yearbook, showing a serious Corey, the picture already hinting at the feminine beauty the boy would eventually become.

"Oh my God mother," she screamed, carrying the paper into the kitchen where the two had been having breakfast.

"What?"

"Look at this. We'll be ruined. All those people will be laid off and Larry will be devastated," Corrine said, her voice loud and insistent.

Debbie Sullivan looked at the paper, her face showing shock. She spent several minutes reading the story and then looked up.

"You look very lovely in that picture," she said, smiling.

"Mother, how can you take this so lightly? It'll ruin the business. This is so humiliating. Everybody will know about me. This is so awful. And what will Adam's family think? He hasn't told them yet."

"Honey, look at it this way. It had to come out sometime. Lots of people already knew about you. You couldn't keep your past a secret from others, you know."

For some time now, Corrine understood her life story would be of interest to others and she had to live with it. If other people wouldn't accept her, she'd have to live with that situation and seek either to change their views toward her or retreat into seclusion. Yet, for this fact to be revealed so blatantly and so unexpectedly before Adam's family, as well as all of her business partners, could be properly informed bothered her. She could imagine the response: "Why couldn't you have been up-front with this? If you're not ashamed of your background, why keep it a secret? Can we trust you on anything now?"

Her mother, however, continued to seek to soothe the girl:

"Just continue being yourself, darling. You're a perfectly wonderful, warm and talented person. You'll continue to be successful as long as you keep doing what you're doing, working hard, being considerate of others and taking care of yourself."

Corrine knelt before her mother and put her head into her mother's lap. Debbie Sullivan patted her daughter's head. Corrine cried for several minutes in soft sobs, finally feeling comforted in embrace of her mother.

*****
Within an hour, Larry Wilkins called Corrine on her cell phone. Corrine took the call while dressed only her bra and panties, having found a warm shower and hair-washing to have settled her down so that she was now thinking clearly as to how to respond to the unexpected publicity. Asking Larry to wait a moment while she put on a robe, she worried about her partner's reaction.

"Seems we got some publicity in the morning paper," Larry said when she returned to the phone.

"I'm sorry about that, Larry. I didn't know it was coming."

"I didn't either, but I should have suspected something when that reporter hung around after the open house. She asked all sorts of question, mainly about you and your background," he said.

"Larry, I know you didn't say anything. But, who could have?" She asked.

"I tried to be sure I didn’t give anything away. Maybe my vagueness on your background caused her to be suspicious, probably thinking you had committed some sort of crime in your past. I guess I may have been wrong when I mentioned your high school."

Corrine recalled that she wondered at the time why the reporter, one of the paper's top investigative types, was there. She rarely covered so-called "feel-good" stories like the grand opening of a new business, and usually was involved in muckraking of some sort. Her writing was always snarky and sought to question the motives of her subjects, usually hinting at some sort of chicanery.

"I do know that the state's development agency that we worked with is under some scrutiny. Maybe that had something to do with this and she accidentally stumbled across my situation."

"You're probably right," Larry said. "I don't think any of us here could have leaked the info."

"Maybe someone else who knows of my changes leaked it," Corrine offered thinking of some of her mother's customers or someone at the University. After all, she hadn't actually been telling anyone voluntarily of her background. She had been so completely accepted as a young woman that she hardly ever thought of her earlier years as Corey.

"Actually, if we handle this right, we can gain lots of great publicity," he said.

"Larry, I don't want us to be a novelty. We need to succeed on what we create and on being a well-run business."

"Nonetheless, we should not bury our heads in the sand," he said. "We don't want this to be an albatross around our necks."

In the end, Corrine and Larry agreed to a course of action. First, they would call all of the employees of the fledgling company together at 8 a.m., when most were beginning their morning shifts. Corrine and Larry, along with Jason Penney, would explain about Corrine's journey to womanhood and why there had been no mention made of that in starting the company. Corrine agreed to call Shaundra later in the morning after the plant supervisor would be home from church; the call was necessary, both agreed, since Shaundra was key to the operation and also because her deep religious feelings might cause her to walk away from the whole project.

"We'll get through this, Corrine," Larry said. "We're too good together."

She laughed. "I hope we are."

Corrine was deeply fond of the man; he was strong, kind and caring. Larry’s call left her comforted and confident of the future. Next, she had a call to make to Adam Hartmann. It would be uncomfortable.

*****
"I understand, Corrine. Please don't cry," Adam said.

She had tearfully told him of the story in the newspaper; eventually, both were certain, the story would find its way to Pine Valley.

"I'm sorry I'm such a freak, Adam. You deserve better," she said, not mollified by his acceptance of the situation.

"Honey, with you, I've got the best there is."

"You’re just saying that to be nice."

"Shut up," he scolded. "I'll just have to bite the bullet and tell the family."

"Adam, that'll be horrible for you."

"Shush, it's got to be done and I'll do it this afternoon," Adam said. "Most of the family will be here for Sunday dinner and I'll tell them afterward."

"Are you sure? Maybe you are better without me?"

"Damn, I'm getting mad at you," he said, his voice growing firm. "I want you, period! You hear that? I want you, Corky."

"What can I say, dear?" She asked.

"Don't worry. Besides, I'll ask Amy to call mom afterwards and fill them in some more."

She sobbed after hanging up the phone. Adam was such an upstanding person, strong in so many ways. Was she deserving of his love?

*****
Shaundra Means hadn't been aware of the newspaper story when Corrine called; she had risen at 6 a.m., prepared breakfast, roused the three grandchildren who lived with her, prepared them for services at St. Matthews African Methodist Episcopal Church and had only just returned to the house.

She greeted Corrine with a "God Bless You" upon picking up the phone. After exchanging warm words, Corrine began with, "I'm sorry to interrupt your Sunday, Shaundra, but I need to alert you to something that has happened."

"My, what is it? Are we having to close down?"

"No. No. No. Nothing like that. Financially we're doing fine," Corrine began, "It's just that. . ."

Corrine outlined the situation, and not giving Shaundra a chance to respond to her feelings about the news, she plunged directly into the question, "How should we go about informing the workers?"

The older woman was not to be dissuaded. "You're a man? Oh, that's so disgusting! It's against God's word."

"But, Shaundra, you don't understand," Corrine began in a vain attempt to stop the woman from continuing.

"I understand full well what you're saying. I've admired you Miss Sullivan . . . or should I say Mr. Sullivan? . . . but you're an abomination. I can't work with you anymore."

"But Shaundra, we need you," Corrine pleaded.

"Mr. Sullivan. You're not going to ruin the Sabbath for me and my family. I'll see you at eight o'clock tomorrow morning. Good bye," Shaundra said. She hung up the phone.

Corrine felt sick at heart.

*****
"They took it pretty good, darling," Adam told her that evening.

"Really? That's such a comfort. I've been just sick at heart all day long awaiting your call. I was afraid it was going to be terribly ugly," Corrine replied, truly relieved by his reassurance.

After her call earlier in the day to Shaundra Means, Corrine had been in turmoil. The supervisor's cold, almost hostile reaction to her news, had shocked her "and began to put doubt into her mind as to her future. Would she ever be accepted as a woman? Would her birth as a boy become a block to living a normal life in the community, halt any hope of a happy relationship (or even marriage) to a sweet man like Adam?

"I was surprised at my dad's response," Adam said. "I thought he'd be the biggest hurdle, but he's surprisingly understanding. I often thought he was old-fashioned in his thinking . . . you know how he is, always blunt and outspoken."

"I always found him a sweetie beneath that rough exterior," Corrine protested. He had always treated her warmly and had privately told her in her one visit that Adam would be lucky to have her.

"Right, he seems to like you, but I think you're so damn beautiful that he was just reacting like an old man in the company of a pretty one like you. If he found you were a boy, my God, I thought all hell would break loose."

Corrine smiled to herself. She remembered Arnie Hartmann, a towering bear of a man with huge hands. At first glance, she was frightened of him, an image made worse by his curt greeting, "huh," as he appraised her, apparently disapprovingly, as if such a fragile girl was hardly worthy of his strong son.

She recalled the moment when she and Adam joined Arnie and Adam's sister, Amy, on the screened porch of their home just outside of Pine Valley on a warm summer afternoon. At one point, Adam and Amy excused themselves to get some beer, soda and snacks from the kitchen, leaving Corrine and their father alone.

"Tell me a little about yourself, Corrine," he said, his tone quite soft and pleasant, unlike his earlier comments.

She noticed he had sparkling eyes, blue and intelligent; they belied his gruff outer self, demonstrating humor and wonderment with the world. He listened intently as she related how she was raised by a single mother, had learned to be a hairdresser and later a dress designer. Corrine soon found herself outlining her plans for the business, which was still in the formative stage. She told of the financing involved, the partnership with community and the support of the city government.

Along the way, he asked a few questions, particularly warning her of expecting too much from the city government, because of bureaucratic problems that often arise. His questions, she felt, were thoughtful and apparently based on his own experiences in running a logging business.

"Corrine," she recalled him saying, "whether you're cutting logs or designing dresses you need to have good business sense."

Just then, Adam and Amy entered the room with the refreshments. Arnie Hoffmann turned to his son and said: "Better watch out for this girlfriend of yours, boy. She's more than a pretty face."

"Don't I already know it, dad."

By the end of their phone call, Adam explained that it appeared Arnie had seen a documentary on transgenderism and also a movie, "The Soldier's Girl,” that told the sad story of a young soldier who had been murdered by another soldier for his friendship with a pretty transwoman. Apparently, the older Hartmann had looked into the subject a bit, thus becoming more sympathetic to Adam's revelation.

"My dad's support of you was key to the whole thing, even forcing my brother Aaron who sometimes like to be a 'tough guy' to acknowledge that you're pretty good looking girl," Adam explained.

"I'll have to give him a kiss next time I visit you," she said.

"Mom was not so happy though, even though she likes you, Corky, a lot. She wonders about grandchildren."

"So do I darling," Corrine said. "I don't want to cheat you out of being a father and making your mom happy."

"I love you, Corky, and we can always adopt," he said, as the two exchanged oral kisses in saying goodnight.

*****
As she readied herself for bed, Corrine felt warmed by Adam's loving words. Even though he would not be there to see her, she took extra time in the bathroom, even putting on a few squirts of cologne. Rather than the flannel pajamas she had worn on the recent nights due to the cold, she chose a see-through nightgown with spaghetti straps, lace trim and a mid-thigh length. She felt so pretty and feminine.

Nonetheless, the dread of her coming morning meeting with Shaundra tormented Corrine. She totally respected the older woman who not only had both designing and mechanical skills, but had strong principles of honesty and hard work. Most importantly the employees of Creations accepted her as their leader. Without Shaundra, Corrine knew, the new company would have trouble moving ahead.

Larry had called her earlier in the evening to discuss the situation with Shaundra. "Would you like me to join you at the meeting with Shaundra?" He asked.

"No, Larry, but thanks. I think it's best that I meet with her personally, one-on-one," she said. "I don't want her to get the feeling we're ganging up on her."

"How about I bring in Pastor Mitchell to help explain the situation," he suggested. "He's pro gay rights and I know Shaundra has worked with him on civil rights stuff."

"No, Larry. I think Shaundra feels I betrayed her, that I lied to her, and I've got to set that straight, first of all. She may never accept my gender status, but I want her to accept me as an honest, upstanding person, one who she can trust."

Larry didn't give up, however, suggesting that they could offer Shaundra a hefty raise in pay.

"No, Larry, not now, although, Lord knows, she deserves it. But, offering it to her today would just be insulting her, making her feel like she was being bought off."

"OK, I just don't want to lose her."

"Let me do this on my own, Larry. She needs to trust me. I feel pretty confident I can," Corrine said, though she really wasn't sure her confidence was warranted.

*****
Shaundra charged into Corrine and Larry's cramped office at three minutes after eight. Larry had left the office to check stock at the loading dock, discreetly leaving the office to give Shaundra and Corrine privacy. Corrine's stomach churning, she had tried to eat that morning after a night of sleep interrupted by racing thoughts of how she was going to handle the supervisor.

"I left Victor in charge to get production going, Mister Sullivan," she said, her voice edgy. She referred to Victor Xiong, an expert tailor and a Hmong refugee of some forty years ago. Though past retirement age, Xiong was a tiny vigorous man who seemed to relish in the world women's clothes creation.

"Thank you, Shaundra. Please have a seat and let me explain my situation to you," Corrine said, hoping her voice didn't sound as shaky as she felt.

"I will, but nothing will change the fact that you're violating our God," the woman said in a voice that quivered with uneasiness.

Corrine came from behind her desk and moved to a straight-backed chair so that she and Shaundra were looking at each other as equals, not as the usual boss vs. employee format.

"First of all, let me apologize most sincerely for not being totally up-front with you about my gender situation, Shaundra," Corrine began.

"You are living a lie in the eyes of the Lord, Mr. Sullivan," Shaundra responded quickly.

"Maybe so, except that I'm not sure it's a lie, Shaundra. I'd love to have you call me Corrine as you did in the past, by the way."

"Let's keep it at Mr. Sullivan, if that's OK."

"And so it'll be, Shaundra."

The woman shook her head, as if in disgust and perhaps even revulsion. "How can it not be a lie? You are just masquerading as a woman, nothing more than a boy in girl's clothing, and that is an abomination in the eyes of the Lord. You better get to know your bible, sir. Look at Deuteronomy, Chapter 22."

Corrine realized she might never convince Shaundra of her belief that she was female and that her outer body was not the true woman she always was inside.

"I do understand there are some places in the Bible that may seem to indicate that people like me are sinners, but I want you to know that you have always – until now – viewed me as all female, didn't you?"

"Yes," she nodded warily.

"Well, I've always felt I was a girl, from my earliest years, even when I was in high school still trying to live up to the image I was a boy. But I wasn't' a boy, not at all, not in any way in my own mind. It was when I was dressed as a boy that I was living a lie, because that was not me."

Shaundra looked up, eyeing Corrine closely. She said nothing.

"Shaundra," Corrine continued. "Please believe me. I so want your trust and support. I will be crushed if you can't find it in your heart to understand."

Suddenly, Corrine felt an urge to cry, and she tried to hold it back in vain. Tears formed in her eyes and Shaundra reached to a box of tissues from Larry's desk, pulled one out and handed it to Corrine. "Hear dear," her voice gentler now.

"Thank you, Shaundra," she said, taking the tissue.

The older woman arose and spoke: "I've got to get back to the floor. We've got to get that special order of samples for the New York runway show audition out today."

Shaundra turned her back to Corrine and marched out the door.

*****
Thirty minutes later Larry returned to the office, looking inquisitively to Corrine. "What did you tell her, Corrine? She's back giving orders and seems charged up to work harder than ever."

"Oh?" She said, her musing interrupted by Larry's return. She had no idea what Shaundra was thinking when she left the office.

She outlined the gist of the conversation, ending with the comment that she wasn't sure she convinced Shaundra of anything. "She really thinks I'm an abomination, Larry," she said.

"Apparently, but she does seem she wants to continue working here, regardless," he said.

"Listen, the staff is really buzzing about that article in Sunday's paper. I think some of them are worried whether this'll hurt the company and they'll lose their jobs, and many also are as religious as Shaundra."

Corrine nodded.

"I think it’s time to call them all together for a meeting and then you and I can explain the situation," he suggested.

She thought for a moment and then looked up at him. "Good idea. Let's summon them all to the lunch room at the the ten o'clock break and we can talk to them."

*****
Shaundra Means, in her typical authoritarian manner, told the twenty or so workers to 'be quiet and pay close attention to what Miss Corrine and Mr. Larry have to say." The workers, most of whom were women and non-white, quit talking immediately, taking their seats on the picnic benches in the lunch room, a bleak place made even more so by harsh fluorescent lighting. Corrine was pleased to hear Shaundra address her as “Miss Corrine.”

"Thank you all for coming here," Larry said, opening the session.

"Hey, Mr. Larry, you ordered us here, didn't you?" Yelled out a portly sewing machine operator by the name of Tanita.

"Yes, of course," he said.

"And we're on the clock, ain't we?" Said Tatiana, a youngish single mother and recent immigrant from Kosovo who worked as a shipping clerk.

"Naturally, Tatiana," Larry assured them.

"Then take as long as you want, Mr. Larry," Tatiana said, with a laugh. Others laughed as well and then applauded.

"All right, all right, that's enough," Shaundra intervened, again quieting the group.

Corrine had been tense, but she sensed the workers were not particularly alarmed by the issue that had brought about this meeting. She knew many of them adhered to strict religious tenets of their various congregations and likely viewed gays and transgendered persons as an anathema.

"I know most of you know why we're here," he began. "If you didn't see the story in Sunday's paper, you obviously know that the president and true founder of this company was born of a different gender than what she portrays here today. I'm sure it was a shock to all of you, because all of us have in the few weeks we've been together treasured her as a perfectly lovely, talented young lady. She is, after all, the real inspiration for our company, but she also needs each one of you to make this venture a success."

"Right, Mr. Larry," someone shouted.

"Why did you keep it a secret?" another yelled.

"You're quite right," Larry continued. "We should not have held back the truth as long as we did. Miss Corrine's transition to womanhood was known to many folks in her family, among her friends and in her own neighborhood. Even the University knew.

"Miss Corrine, the other partners and I knew, of course, but we felt we'd not announce her situation at the beginning because it would draw attention away from the company and what we were trying to do here. It might have become a sideshow instead."

Corrine stood silently, watching Larry's explanation and seeing the workers' heads nod in agreement as he spoke. She marveled at how convincing he was, logically explaining the company's decision-making process and, most importantly, assuring his audience that the company appeared to be on sound footing with a great future ahead.

Nonetheless, she felt bile rise into her throat as Larry turned to invite her to tell the reason for her change from boy to girl. Could she be truly open to these people, could she retain their respect, would they believe her?

She swallowed as she moved into the front of the group. Shaundra nudged her forward, whispering "tell it like you told me, honey." Corrine smiled at the woman, her confidence growing.

"Thank you, Larry and Shaundra for your support and understanding," she said to open up. "First of all, let me say how much I personally value the hard work and support all of you have shown in the first weeks of this company. We've already established the company on fairly firm footing, a rare accomplishment for 'start-ups' like ours, and we owe so much of that to all of you.

"Now some of you may be thinking I am living a lie, that I am just a man wearing women's clothing, that I'm some kind of drag queen or circus freak. Let me assure you that I am a woman and when I was running around the neighborhood in little boy's clothes I really felt I was a girl. Scientists and doctors now recognize my condition as something called gender dysphoria, that is, a case of my body not matching my inner self.

"Soon, I will have an operation that will alter my sexual organs to match my sense of being a woman. And I will be a woman in all ways except one and that will be that I could never bear children, a fact that saddens me greatly. Believe me, friends, when I say today I am no longer living a lie, that the person you see before me is a woman. If I were to return to you in male clothes, that would be a lie!"

The group largely applauded when she finished her explanation. Several workers did not clap and at least one seemed to have a disgusted look on her face, but all in all, it appeared they had accepted her story. There were a few questions, and then Larry ended the meeting, announcing that they would not have to return to their work stations for another thirty minutes and that the soda machine would be opened up for free drinks. A door opened and a young man carrying boxes of donuts, Danish and other sweets entered.

"Corrine and I'll join with you and you may all ask questions of us personally, if you wish," he announced.

"Thank you Mr. Larry and Miss Corrine," said Tanita.

*****
"And Shaundra called me 'Miss Corrine' again," Corrine happily told her two closest friends, Amy Hartmann and Maureen Penney.

"I'm so happy for you Corrine," Amy said. The three gathered, as they often tried to do on most Wednesday nights, for a girls-only dinner, usually at one of the eateries near the University.

"Yes, and Larry's such a peach," Corrine added. "He's been such a total support, so solid.

"And he's good looking, too," Maureen interjected.

"That he is," Corrine nodded, her face reddening slightly.

"He's got the hots for you, too."

"Maureen, don't be silly; besides he knows I'm taken. And, I see he's been paying attention to you, Maureen."

"Maybe," was Maureen's evasive reply.

Maureen Penney had continued coming into Creations several times a week, largely to help with decorating as well as to seek to build the company's public relations program. At the advice of her father, Maureen had changed majors, getting into the University's communications program to learn marketing and similar skills. Though she wanted to be accepted as an unpaid intern, both Larry and Corrine insisted on paying her as part of the cost of business.

"You're too valuable to us, Maureen," Larry told her.

Corrine was pleased when Larry had invited Maureen to join him for lunch one day. Maureen Penney had never been lucky with men and had gone some time without a steady boyfriend; it pleased her that Larry would turn his roving eye to Maureen. True, Maureen was not a classic beauty, being a bit too short and stocky; yet, she had a warm, caring disposition to go along with her plain, round face.

"I'm not expecting anything from Larry," Maureen said. "After all, I know he has no shortage of female admirers."

Corrine nodded, recognizing that with Larry's good looks, successful career and warm personality he had had no problem dating women, many of them African-American models or those with careers.

"He'd be quite a catch for any girl," Amy said.

For some reason, Corrine felt that there indeed might be an unlikely romance budding between Maureen, a wealthy white girl from the North Shore, and Larry Perkins, an African-American from a poor neighborhood. She wondered if she should nurture the relationship.

*****
Corrine followed her usual routine for the weekend following the newspaper’s account, spending Saturday and Sunday with her mother. At her mother’s suggestion, Corrine agreed to take on Saturday morning appointments, with two of her former clients to do their hair. Debbie Sullivan knew that one of the appointments would be with Sonja Peplinski, who had become an upcoming public relations executive at a major local firm.

The publicity surrounded Corrine’s transgender status still lingered and Corrine confessed to her mother that the continuation of the story might threaten the future of Corrine’s Creations, ruining hopes not only for the business but also for the hopes for new jobs for some in one of the city’s lowest-income neighborhoods.

“Why not see if Sonja has some ideas for you,” Debbie suggested to her daughter.

Sonja Peplinski was eager to consider working on the project, she assured Corrine. “You only need to ask?” she said.

On the following Monday, Sonja quickly contacted several colleagues, and as part of the ad firm’s pro bono work, agreed to help out in the press relations. At their advice, Creations organized a news conference at the showroom that included Larry Wilkins, Jason Penney (who had been named Chairman of the Creations Board), Dr. Julia Hickson (head of the Psychiatry Department of the Medical College) and Corrine. Debbie Sullivan was also present to support her daughter.

By Tuesday, Sonja and two of her partners showed up at Creations to discuss their suggestions. Sonja took the lead in the meeting, suggesting that "let's have it all hang out right at the start, giving the media the whole picture, not leaving any doubt about any conspiracy or any secret that they'll want to follow up on." It was agreed that Corrine and anyone linked to Creations would refuse further press content.

At Larry's suggestion, the company placed Sonja’s firm of Walton, Guttermacht and Slone on a retainer, to assure that services might be available in the future. The firm agreed, but said it would bill for only half the hours it spent on Creations’ issues, writing off the other half as pro bono. Corrine knew that eventually she'd have to sit down with some writer or journalist to tell her life story, but Sonja said the venue of such an article should be one of their own choosing, if possible. Sonja also suggested working up other interviews for television and radio.

"I only want to do what's best for the company," Corrine said.

The news conference went as planned; all four major television stations were present, several radio stations, two reporters from online outlets, plus print reporters from the major newspaper, several alternative journals and the neighborhood newspapers. By and large, the stories were positive, filled with quotes from Dr. Hickson on the nature and reality of persons facing gender dysphoria.

Debbie Sullivan, however, seemed to be the center of the questioning of the reporters and their submissions.

"Weren't you humiliated when your son starting prancing around as a girl?" It was asked in an almost sneering manner by a radio reporter from what turned out to be a Christian broadcasting station.

"I don't like the tone of your question, young man," Debbie replied, "but to answer your question. No, I was proud and I don't ever recall seeing her 'prance around,' as you say. She has always acted as a most responsible young lady. She's really a very normal girl who loves pretty dresses and cares for fluffy animals. Corrine has always gotten good grades in school and has been a loving daughter."

"But, Mrs. Sullivan," the reporter pressed on. "You're a single mother and there's been no father for your son. Didn't you encourage him to this behavior? Why did you bring him into your beauty salon? That was hardly the place for an impressionable child."

There were groans from other media people in the room, obviously growing impatient at the nasty tone of the reporter's questions.

"No, no, that's actually and good question, even though I think you could have asked it a bit more pleasantly," Debbie said. "I have long wondered that myself. As you heard Dr. Hickson say, there must have been a natural feminine tendency to Corrine. I bought her plenty of trucks and boy things, but she always gravitated to my stuffed animals, even asking early on if she could play with the Barbie doll I had saved from my own childhood. She's a girl through and through. I have no doubt."

The only negative feedback from the announcement came from the reaction of several evangelical churches. A delegation of black pastors descended upon the company, demanding a meeting with the leaders of the Harambee Neighborhood Association, the company directors and Larry and Corrine.

Much of the furor ended after the meeting that was held at the Association offices. This time, Larry Wilkins did most of the talking.

"This is perhaps the most promising economic development venture we've had in our neighborhood in years," he began. "It deserves a chance to get off the ground. Already we have created more than twenty jobs, and the prospect is for far more.

"Miss Sullivan's life is her own. Neither she nor the company wanted her gender to become the focus of our work. I've gotten to know her very well and I am convinced she cares about this community as much as she would if she grew up here. She could have started this company in Bay View where she grew up. And, by the way, she grew up, raised by a single mother, just as many of your congregants have done."

Whether the meeting convinced any of them was hard to say, but neither Larry nor Corrine heard of any further efforts to interfere with the growth of Creations.