"Wait! Did you just say... you love me?"

CHAPTER SEVEN

Eventually Alan’s blubbering deteriorated into deep breathing with intermittent snuffles. Jocelyn stroked the back of his head. After a minute, she tapped his shoulder.

“Hey, big guy. Sit up for me.”

He slowly pushed himself upright to where he was sitting in the middle of the couch. He was slumped forward, head and arms hanging down as if limp. Jocelyn climbed up beside him and sat down. She slid her arm inside his, and her gloved hands grasped his near arm.

“Talk to me,” she whispered.

The man next to her didn’t raise his gaze from the floor; he just shook his head slowly. “You don’t deserve to be bored by my crap.”

She leaned her head on his sagging shoulder. She breathed her words out quietly. “I want to hear it.”

He shook his head again, and remained silent.

She stroked the back of his glove. “Was it… your father?”

His head rose, and he looked at her with bloodshot eyes. “You mean, was it Dad who yelled at me? No. No, absolutely not. Not Mom either. They were great. I had an awesome childhood. Although you’d never guess it, with how screwed up I am now.”

Alan took a piece of cloth he’d packed for the fishing out of his coat pocket. He blew a bucket of snot out of his nose, then glanced, mortified, at Jocelyn. “Sorry — excuse me a minute.” He walked to the kitchen area and disposed of the cloth, then washed his hands sparingly with some leftover melted snow and dish soap there.

“When you’re dried, come sit next to me again,” she requested.

“Really, Jocelyn… I’m sorry I did this… this breakdown. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Please come sit by me. I’m getting cold being here by myself.” She rubbed her arms and made a shivering motion to emphasize her point.

The appeal to his chivalry hit the target. He came back to the couch and sat, but still stared forward, off into the distance. However, he picked up where he’d left off.

“At least, it was a great childhood until I was sixteen. Dad died that year in a highway accident with a truck. I was devastated. See, every night for as long as I could remember, I prayed to God before going to bed. You know, thanks for this, help me with that. And I always asked for protection for my family and me.

“When Dad died, I figured that God was a liar; or more likely, a fraud. I became an atheist, much to the chagrin of my Mom and Charlene. But they both still loved me, and treated me with kindness and respect — even when I left college after my junior year to take a full time sales position at an auto dealership.”

“I thought you were always a pharmaceutical sales rep.”

“Not at first. I sold cars during the summers between semesters. I was so good at it they begged me to do it year-round. The money was pretty terrific, so I did.”

Jocelyn tilted her head at him. “So if it wasn’t your family, then who…?”

Alan looked at her. “Jocelyn, I’ve already been more of a screw-up than a help to you today. You don’t want to know the bull I’ve had to live with. It’ll just depress us both more.”

“Alan … you’re not the only one, you know.”

“The only one … what?”

“The only one in the room here that’s lived with abuse. I… I’m going to…(sigh)… Alan, l-let me tell you more about myself.”

~o~O~o~

Jocelyn’s head screamed at her. Don’t open up your life to him! He’ll hurt you, just like everyone else!

Everyone except Cynthia, her heart countered. And so far, he’s proven as trustworthy as her. If you open yourself up, it may give him the courage to talk. And when a problem can be talked about, it can be dealt with.

“You said your childhood was great. Mine wasn’t. My Dad was an alcoholic and a drug addict, although a ‘high functioning’ one, at least for all the years I was living at home. He headed up his own business of dry cleaning stores, and franchised them regionally. And then at home he would get drunk and/or high. Sometimes under the influence he’d be happy and even manic; once he called the local paper and proposed to buy their whole operation just because my name ‘wasn’t printed large enough’ when they reported the usual list of honor students. Other times, he’d be depressed, and get out his revolver and stick it in his mouth — or at Mom — and wonder why it wasn’t loaded. We made sure every day before he came home that we hid all of his bullets.

“Basically, if you live with a substance abuser you get sick too. Emotionally, socially, relationally. So even though I’ve never taken drugs or overused alcohol, I was caught up in the sickness of it all. At school I was a great student, and an all-region pitcher for the baseball team. But at home I became the introvert, the ‘lost child’, the one who would come straight home and lose myself in my CD’s and fantasy paperbacks. I didn’t have friends come over, because they might find out our big secret. Heck it was easier just to have no friends. I was so wrapped up in that pathology, any gender issues took a back seat.

“When Dad was sober, he was a great father. Drunk, he’d get pretty violent, verbally. Funny… he never raised his fist against Mom or me; just threaten to shoot with the gun on occasion. But believe me, the words he spoke cut deep enough. Even knowing it was the booze and drugs talking, when the venom came out of his lips, it scarred permanently.

“Now he’s actually been clean and sober for the last eight years. He hasn’t spoken harshly to me anymore. He and Mom just won’t have anything to do with me because they so disagree with me changing genders. He’s called me a disappointment; that’s about as bad as it’s gotten from him, lately.”

“That’s bad enough, in my opinion,” said Alan.

“Oh, that’s nothing compared to what I’ve gotten from ‘friends’ and acquaintances the last few years. It’s been horrible.”

He spoke softly and with empathy. “What… have they said to you?”

Jocelyn covered her face with her hands. A half minute later, she sniffled moistly.

“Disgusting … ugly … mentally ill … faggot … gay … homo … pervert. An embarrassment to my family and community, not to mention mankind in general. A quitter, a failed man. Shit licking … ass fucked … cock … suck-” she wrapped her arms around her head and started to weep. “And I’ve never been promiscuous. I’ve never even been with a guy, yet!”

Alan placed his arm around her as she shed more and more tears.

~o~O~o~

Eventually Jocelyn calmed. She patted the arm that was across her back. “Thank you for the support, Alan.”

“Jocelyn, none of that crap they said about you is true.”

“Oh, I know. Therapy has really helped me to reject it. The memories still hurt, though.” She looked at him. “So… who told you your lies?”

“Guess.”

“Lacy.”

“We have a winner,” Alan muttered, nodding his head.

~o~O~o~

“Lacy’s my second wife. I got married at age 25 to Dana, a girl who worked at a car dealership in Anaheim. We met at a sales conference; I lived in San Diego at the time. We’d drive towards each other on Sundays and meet in Escondido, about midway between us. We talked every night; my long distance phone bills were killer.

“Then we married. Living together every day — what a day-and-night difference. It seemed everything I did irritated her greatly, from occasional chest and back hairs left on the shower floor to the way I ate salad; she especially hated the fact that I didn’t put the knives in the knife drawer back in the exact correct order after dishwashing. She also was constantly accusing me of infidelity; if I sold a car to a woman under the age of sixty, Dana was sure that I’d seduced the sale. Then she left me within a year for a guy back in Anaheim that she’d been maintaining contact with during our whole damn relationship.

“Okay. Three years later. I now was in pharmaceutical sales, and more successful than ever, pulling in 120K a year, not bad in ’89. I met Lacy, and we started dating. She wondered if I was ever going to pop the question because I waited two years to do it. I was gonna be sure I really knew the next woman I married; I didn’t want another Dana. Lacy was beautiful, and seemed sweet. She had three kids from her previous husband, but I loved them and was sure I could treat them as if they were mine.”

Jocelyn was surprised. “Two years of courtship. Did she show any sign of being abusive during that time?”

“Unbelievably, no. Or if she did, I was blind to it. In fact, after we got married, things went okay the first few years, and we had the twins. But problems were there, and got bigger. I couldn’t seem to keep her on a budget. She’d take out new credit cards in her name and I wouldn’t know it. We got $80,000 in credit card debt before she showed me the actual bills.

“On top of that, I soon learned she was ashamed to be the wife of a salesman. She avoided social functions with me and urged me to go back to SDSU to get a ‘respectable’ career. Yeah, like I can stop and go to school when we were putting the older 3 kids through college and had the 80k card debt. And she was a stay-at-home mom.”

“Alan, did she offer to go to work to help out?”

“No - and I didn’t mind her being a housewife, what with five kids to raise. But she didn’t do much besides watch them. She’d hire a cleaning service to keep the house up, and she only cooked on rare occasions. Most of the time when I came home for supper, she’d have ordered pizza or take out … all on credit cards. I was working extra to make ends meet. Then she’d accuse me of not being there as a husband and father.”

Jocelyn found herself getting a little angry with this woman. “That would be hard to live with.”

“That’s not even close to the worst of it,” shuddered Alan. “What damaged me the most was the manipulation and verbal abuse. When I tried to put my foot down, she’d threaten me with divorce and taking the twins. Over the simplest things, like what level of cable TV service to get! I wanted marriage counseling; she refused. How crazy is that — you usually hear of the husband being the one to avoid counseling.

“When I would stand my ground on a quarrel, she’d fight dirty. If she didn’t have a good logical position, she’d begin character assassination. Or bring up old wounds, or cut down my side of the family, or call me names — and swear at me. In public. And in front of the kids. Her screaming and yelling got bad. I even tried to go ‘toe to toe’ with her on it one time, but her lungpower was amazing. Finally I saw that the only way I’d have peace in my home was if I conceded every argument, every decision to her.

“I guess I heard all the crud coming out of her for so long that I started to believe it myself. I mean, I couldn’t have made a mistake and married a second woman who hated my guts, right? No, it really must mean that I was that rotten a person.

“Oh, Alan. I’m so sorry.”

“Work became my only escape, the only place where I seemed to do well and get respect and praise. So I spent more and more time there and less time at home. I got a lot of sales accomplished, but I was putting in 70-hour workweeks. If I came home when she was in bed and left before she woke, she couldn’t hurt me as much.
“The last straw was at last year’s Christmas party for Marcam. It was the first work party she had been with to me in eight years, because of her shame with my profession. Anyway, we’re at the table with the big brass, the owner-“

“Mr. Leibowicz?”

“Yep, the man himself. We’re all talking, and I tell a joke — maybe a little corny, but clean — and everyone at the table laughs, except Lacy, who’s shaking her head. She then yells that ‘it’s bad enough that you have to drag me to these stupid get-togethers with lousy food and boring people, but do you have to go and make a jackass out of yourself too?’ Everyone at the table got quiet; I apologized and excused us from the party, pulling Lacy with me, her hissing at me all the way.

“I didn’t know that happened.”

“You always leave the parties early, remember? Anyway, something inside me broke that night. I had sworn I would never ever get a second divorce, but at that point I didn’t care. I moved out, and Lacy got to play the role of the poor jilted spouse with all of our friends, except the few who saw her at that party.”

Jocelyn felt brokenhearted for Alan. “What do your twin girls think of all this?”

“The twins enter college this summer, but for the rest of this school year she has primary custody. I call them, but they won’t talk to me. I think they catch too much hell from her if they express any affection about me openly. Maybe once they graduate I can see them more than every other Saturday.

"And I’ve promised myself to stay out of romance from here on out. I get extremely lonely at times, but I can’t afford to even take a chance of going through that emotional and mental hell again. I mean, I know there must be non-abusive women out there — but it sure doesn’t seem like I pick that kind. I’d rather live single forever than risk it again."
He began to cry again. “I thought that leaving would get rid of the abuse — but I listened to her for nineteen years, and I can’t get her damned screaming out of my head! I don’t know how much of it is true and how much of it is lies. I don’t have the money for counseling, between debt and alimony. That’s why I have to leave Missoula. Maybe I can heal with more distance between me and her.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, and — Oh God. No one’s supposed to know that. It won’t happen anyway; the job interview in Helena was supposed to be today.”

“Your secret’s safe with me. Do you still hear Lacy’s voice in your head right now?”

“Ohhh, yeah. It’s always there on some level. It harps at me at day, and whispers accusations at night. When things don’t go right — like today — it’s louder than a jet engine.” Alan was now leaning forward, elbows on his knees, and gripping his skull. “This is killing me. I literally feel sometimes like it’s killing me on the inside. I’d never consider suicide… but sometimes, I wouldn’t mind if my life was over. At least I wouldn’t have to listen to this…”

Jocelyn held tight to Alan’s arm. She watched as tears started to dribble down his cheeks. His face was bright red as he tried to hold in his emotion. She contemplated what to do, how to help. Once more, her heart was her guide.

“Are your muscles sore, big guy?”

He continued to stare straight ahead, but nodded.

She got up and walked to the back of the couch, directly behind him. She pulled his coat to just off of his shoulders, and began massaging his neck, his trapezius muscles. She pushed deep, as there was a lot of tissue and flesh on this man.

“Jocelyn, you don’t have to… ohhh, that… that’s… that’s nice…”

As she rubbed, she bent down and whispered in his ear. “Alan Sarkisian… is one of the finest human beings on the planet.”

“That’s a laugh -”

“Shhhh. Just get quiet, and listen to me. Close your eyes. Relax.”

She pressed her palms on either side of his spine, and slowly moved them down the length of his back.

Another whisper. “Alan is smart, and funny. He gives people hope.”

He stayed quiet, as requested. Now with his coat off, she draped one of his arms over her shoulder and began working on his biceps and triceps.

“At almost fifty years of age, Alan did an amazing thing: he took a long, hard look at himself, and started to reach out to people different from him.”

She went to the front of the couch. Her fingers kneaded his calves, his thighs. “He’s an Eagle Scout, and he still remembers his training just when he needs to.”

She climbed behind him on the couch, and had him turn to the side slightly. She then lay down on the couch cushions, pulling his back to her chest so they spooned. She then pulled his coat over both of their bodies.

Alan felt her embrace him as he relaxed into her. Her gloved hands gently stroked his head, his cheeks, his hair. He felt her lay her cheek on his bald spot. Like the Sahara absorbing a rare rain, he soaked up the affection. He heard her voice continue in a soft, barely-there tone.

“The best sautéed fish in the history of the world was made by Alan.

“Alan saved my life. He saved my life! He is a bona fide hero.

“He has an unselfish, giving spirit. Alan’s smile is so bright, it lights up the deepest corners of the darkest soul. He is quick to forgive when someone treats him like a jerk. Alan is…”

On and on she talked. As she did, Lacy’s voice became just a little weaker in Alan’s head as the strong, loving voice of Jocelyn competed for space there.

~o~O~o~

CHAPTER EIGHT

They lay together on the couch all afternoon. Alan became so serene from Jocelyn’s ministrations that he fell into a deep sleep.

Jocelyn noticed something happen in herself while she spoke the affirmations to him. She saw that he needed her, that she was a help to him; she was of value to him. It was a nice feeling, to know that one has value. While combing her mind for all the positive virtues he possessed, she realized that all of them were true. She hadn’t needed to make any of them up. That led her to a conclusion.

This guy is a special guy. I’ve never known anyone else like him. So many great qualities — the best one, to me, is that he accepts me as a woman. Not only that, he has suffered some of the ways I have. I almost feel like… like he “gets” me.

Am I feeling attracted? Affectionate — that’s a better way of saying it. I’m beginning to feel affection for him. Maybe my “chooser” isn’t broken after all.

After a while, Alan opened his eyes. Jocelyn looked down into them from above, appearing upside down to him.

“Hello, handsome. Feel any better?”

“Like a trillion bucks worth.” He paused. “Did you mean even half of what you said to me?”

“I meant every word of it. It’s all true.”

“Make that a gazillion bucks, then.”

Alan sat up, then stood. “Hope I didn’t squish you flat, lying on you all that time.”

Jocelyn laughed. “I’m fine. WHOO-!”

She whooped in surprise as Alan grabbed both her hands and pulled her quickly to a standing position — and to him.

“That was one of the kindest, most loving things anyone has ever — ever — done for me.” His eyes were moist as he then kissed her on the cheek and embraced her in an all-encompassing, prolonged bear hug.

“Now I’m squished,” she giggled as he released her. “That was radical. I won’t need a chiropractic appointment for months.”

“I know you’re hungry,” he said with disappointment. “I lost the rest of the bait. There’s no way to catch a fish now.”

“I hear they’re having a hot chocolate special tonight at Chez O’Donnell. And the company’s pretty awesome, they say. Shall we?” She wrapped her gloved hands around the crook of his elbow.

A slow grin started to trickle across Alan’s lips. Finally he showed those high beam choppers Jocelyn had come to expect from him.

“There he is! Alan’s back,” she cheered.

~o~O~o~

They had three cups each and stopped. The mix in the can was getting low. Alan went out to get some snow to melt so they could have a pot to “flush” the toilet with after they were both finished in the bathroom tonight. Meanwhile Jocelyn went to brush her teeth and remove the modicum of makeup she had applied that morning. She then let Alan use the room.

Jocelyn was already under her covers in her sweats when Alan emerged from the bathroom.

“Hopefully all that hot chocolate will keep you warmer than last night. I took some ibuprofen, so I’m going to the couch. Goodnight, Jocelyn, and thank you, again. Thank you so much.”

“Will you be warm enough, Alan?”

“I’ll keep everything on, even my coat. I want you to have all the blankets — you’ll need them.”

“You shouldn’t sleep in that fishy coat. It’s fine for daytime, but it’ll be too stinky to wake up in.”

“Huh. I don’t notice it.” He looked down at the coat. “I mean, I know the trout brushed against me a few times while I brought it in, and then today I kept the bait in the pocket, but…”

“I could smell it when we were on the couch together.”

He was puzzled. “But tonight you’ll be in here. I’ll be on the couch, and if it doesn’t bother me, then why…?”

“What I mean,” she said meekly, “is it’ll be too smelly to wear it while lying with me.”

Alan was pleasantly shocked.

Jocelyn was blushing deep red. “So — unless you’re uncomfortable with it — I’m asking you to take off that coat, and your shoes, and bring that warm body of yours and get next to me.”

Alan grinned widely. “It would be the most thermal solution for both of us. Purely from a practical standpoint.”

“Uh-huh. Get over here.”

As Alan went under the covers, he put his arm around Jocelyn’s back and pulled her to him. She nestled her chin at the base of his neck and they pulled the blankets over and under them.

Jocelyn exhaled, and relaxed. She recalled how she had felt on first awakening the previous morning.

Safe.

~o~O~o~

As she had done on Christmas morning, Jocelyn awoke first.

She was aware of where she was. In bed, wrapped around Alan and he around her. Snug and toasty, with only a hint of cold air leaking through one of the edges of the blankets. She felt his chest rise and fall with each breath, sometimes accompanied with a slight snore on exhaling. His inhalations pushed into her breasts with a slight pleasant sensation. She comforted in his broad shoulders and big arms.

We’re stranded in a cabin on a mountain in a snowstorm. Nobody knows we’re here. No obvious car wreck for people to spot. No readily available food, no heat, no phone. Just me and my coworker, who has found out about my most guarded secret by accident. We’ll likely die here.

I wouldn’t be anywhere else in the world.

She nodded off back to sleep, a contented look on her face.

Alan awoke. He took a minute to get his bearings, and then remembered where he was. And who he was with.

Technically, I’m sleeping next to a man. That’s what most of the world would say. And that’s what I had her pegged as for the last four years. But she makes much more sense as a woman. Her gentle nature, her melodic voice, her way of walking and moving. She was born for this role. It’s hard to see her as anything else but female.

Maybe she could be “read”. Hands and feet aren’t big, but aren’t petite; but her breasts. Yes, those are very nice. And her soul sure can’t be read. Hell, she’s more feminine than many natural women I know.

And so far, she appreciates me. God, how I have longed for appreciation. Lacy always was disappointed with me. Right now, Jocelyn needs me. It’s nice to be needed. I sure need her right now. Her survival is what’s driving me to survive.

Jocelyn stirred.

“Good morning, ma’am.”

“Good morning, kind sir.”

“Are you uncomfortable?”

“Just a minute.” She adjusted herself to pull even tighter into his body. “Better.”

One of her legs was pushing into the crease between his two legs, against his groin. This plus a full bladder caused a reaction that had been a rarity these days for Alan.

She felt his erection against her leg.

Oh, she thought.

Oh no, he thought.

He pulled away from her. “I — I’m sorry,” he muttered.

She placed her head to face his. “I’m not,” she whispered barely audibly.

He looked in her eyes. Their faces were so close. With tantalizing slowness, he moved closer.

Jocelyn’s heart was beating like a bumblebee’s wings. She closed her eyes just before their lips made contact. When they did, she experienced a falling sensation, weightlessness. Every nerve ending in her skin tingled to life, and she felt transported to another world, one where time has no meaning and the only things in existence were the two of them and this kiss.

She felt his tongue lick her lips, and she opened her mouth. Her tongue touching his sent her to an even higher plane. Her nipples tingled and her skin felt flushed. He had a sour morning taste to his mouth. It was the most wonderful, awful taste in the world.

They finally broke, both breathing heavily.

“Sorry about our morning breath,” he whispered.

“Speak for yourself, trout mouth,” she giggled.

As she did, tears formed in her eyes. She eventually started to cry slightly and buried her face on his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” he cooed in her ear.

“Nothing’s wrong. It’s so right…”

The crying continued as he held her close. Ah. So that’s what they mean by ‘happy tears’, he thought.

Eventually, she quieted, and they lay in close embrace, each with eyes closed. Alan eventually stirred.

“Hey, gorgeous. I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

“What is it, Alan?”

“I really, really have to pee.”

~o~O~o~

CHAPTER NINE

Alan returned from the bathroom. “I’ll melt some snow down later on the stove to flush it.”

“There’s some hand sanitizer that’s in my suitcase — use it if you’d like. Aaand… there’s some Tic-Tacs there too, if you don’t mind, for both of us. ”

“Thanks.” Alan rubbed the alcohol gel in and began to shiver. “DANG - it’s freezing this morning!”

“Well, get back under the covers with me then, mister.”

The snuggling resumed.

“I’d love to know more about you,” said Alan. “I know you have trouble opening up, and trusting. But I’d like a chance to prove worthy of your trust.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Your hopes and dreams. Where you see yourself in twenty years. The one place in the world you would go if you had one wish for it. What makes you tick. The good and bad things that have happened to make you who you are. I want to know more about what you’ve had to endure, you know, the “stuff” that’s happened that you mentioned on the drive. I want to know what made you take the incredibly brave step of changing — what do they call it…”

“What made me decide to transition?”

“That’s the word.”

She got quiet.

“Jocelyn? Are you okay? …Look, maybe that was a bad suggestion. I’m sorry, you don’t have-”

“I’m scared.”

Alan kissed her and whispered, “What are you scared of?”

“What if, after you find out more about me, you change your mind and decide that you’re disgusted with me?”

“Let’s see… do you like me, Jocelyn?”

“Yes.”

“Even though you learned that just two years ago I was a gender bigot?”

“You’ve changed. I like you for who you are right now.”

“Back atcha. I don’t care if you were a warthog with an odor problem…

“Boy, do you have a way with words.”

“…I love you for who you’ve become, who you are right now.”

Jocelyn’s heart jumped. “Wait! Did you just say… you love me?”

Alan looked away, his voice suddenly faltering a bit. “This scares me nearly to death. My two marriages left me gutted emotionally. I planned to never fall in love with anyone ever again. But… the way you spoke to me yesterday… your words… I have to have them… having experienced them now, I don't think I can live without them.

“I’ve been attracted to you since you first smiled at me with your makeup on. But when you whispered to me on the couch — I realized I’ve been hoping for, searching for, needing a woman who would love me with her words and actions the way you did. You fulfilled me in a way that even no sexual act ever has. And though the thought of another possible doomed relationship frightens the hell out of me — I’m afraid I’m hooked on you.”

Jocelyn’s head shouted. He barely knows you! It’s just the stress of the situation talking. He’s too old for you. He’s too good for you. He’ll hurt you. You’ll hurt him. This can’t work. Tell him. “Alan — have you thought about this? Saying those 3 powerful words? You don’t feel like you’re acting too hastily, do you?

“Hey, woman. I’m fifty-one years old. I can’t afford to hesitate. I love you. God help me, I’ve fallen for you hard.”

Jocelyn’s heart screamed: LOVE! He loves you! Love, with a man who accepts you and risked his life for yours! This chance may never come again! So if you love him too — TELL HIM!

Now she was giving him a bear hug, although it was more of a python squeeze around the neck. “Oh, Alan. I love you too! I love you, I love you IloveyouIloveyouIlooooove you!”

She couldn’t stop kissing his face, his nose, his eyes, his ears, and of course his lips and tongue. She wanted his kisses. She now wanted his body next to hers, naked, as it was on Christmas morning. She started to unbutton his shirt, taking a deep delicious breath while doing so. It made her cough.

She then began coughing uncontrollably.

Long, hard prolonged barking spasms that weren’t bringing any mucus up. Alan, alarmed, started to pat her back firmly with his palm, thinking maybe it would loosen any offending phlegm. So severe was this spell that she couldn’t get a word out edgewise.

Finally, in a few minutes, it calmed some. Alan had already gotten out of bed to quickly fix her something warm to drink; he thought maybe it would help.

~o~O~o~

“Ready for some hot chocolate?” Alan brought in two smoking cups with rapidity.

“Mm, yes.” Jocelyn took it and began sipping. “You made yourself one too, right?”

“Actually, it took the last of the powder mix to make yours. But don’t worry about me, I made myself some decoff coffee.”

“We had coffee? And don’t you mean decaf?”

“No. Decoff.” He meekly showed her his cup. “It’s just hot water. But it will warm me up.”

He refused to drink any of her cocoa even against her protests. “Jocelyn, what the heck do you think that coughing fit was from? I was worried a little earlier when you had a small cough, but then I haven’t heard you do it again until just now. You told me it was almost gone earlier.”

“It was! I’m not hiding anything from you, I swear. The first day after falling through the ice, I coughed a lot, but last night and today had been better. I’ve had no fever; I’m not bringing up mucus or anything. And I feel a lot better having sipped on the warm cocoa. I think it was Murph, again.”

“Who?”

“Murphy’s law. The more romantic the moment, the more likely a blasted interruption. Get back under the covers with me, Alan.”

“Careful… I might get the impression that you want to spend the whole day in bed.”

“Mm… sounds dreamy. Besides, I’m going to do what you asked. I’m going to tell you about my transition. But I need just a wee bit more courage… can you tell me you love me again?”

“Jocelyn O’Donnell, I am madly, truly, deeply in love with you.”

She closed her eyes and luxuriated in those words, letting them bounce around inside her brain. Eventually she looked at Alan and kissed him again, long and hard. Then, laying her head on his chest, she spoke.

“Once I got into college, I opened up to my assigned mentor and he directed me to Al-Anon, the group for people who lived with alkies. Boy, did they help me deal with the crud from my home life. But even with that assistance, I became further depressed and didn’t know why.

“I went to a psychiatrist — again, recommended by my mentor — and she administered a huge written screening test. When she told me the results, she asked, “Are you transgendered?” — that’s the first time I considered that as being my issue. I thought I was just screwed up being the kid of an alcoholic, that maybe I dreamed of being a girl just because I wanted to be someone else, and somewhere else, besides home.

“I didn’t want to be transgendered. I ran from that issue for years. All I could see is that it would take me into a new kind of abuse and suffering. But I started suffering even more the longer I tried to ignore it. I was nearly suicidal, at one point. So two years ago, with my therapist and doctor’s support, I decided to transition. I started hormones and medicines to block my testosterone. I also got facial, neck and chest electrolysis. The idea was for me to start living as a woman full time, the real life test; and then eventually have SRS.”

“SRS? Super Rack Supplements? They worked.”

“No, wise guy. Thanks for the compliment, though. Sex reassignment. The operation down there.”

“So, that was two years ago. How long do you have to wait before you can start living female all the time?”

“That’s… the sticking point. I’ve tried to gradually accomplish it — first go part time, then take the plunge — but the reactions I’ve gotten have… inhibited me. I came out to my Mom and Dad, and that went bad. Real bad. Basically, we haven’t talked in two years. They’re ashamed of me, especially Mom. I had only a few friends, and all of them dropped me like a hot potato when I told them. All except Cynthia, my girlfriend in Helena. I did try to say screw it all, and go full time anyway, but…”

“But?”

“Sorry. Th-this is the hard part for me. I went to Mr. Leibowicz and told him I’d like to transition at work. Showed him the letters from my therapist and psychiatrist, gave him printouts on how to manage transsexualism in the workplace, and so on. He did not agree with it. He felt like if I did, it would foster a ‘hostile work environment’ and lead to poor productivity. So, basically, it was stay as Joseph or be out of my job.”

“But that’s discrimination! Jocelyn, a half decent lawyer could have his head on a platter and a huge settlement for you.”

“I know. I know! But I… I don’t want to be a gender crusader. Leibowicz and Marcam are beloved figures in Missoula, and I would be the evil freak witch who destroyed them. With all the resentment I think I’d cause, I’d be a virtual leper. Even a new employer would be hesitant to take on a rabble-rouser. And right now, work is all I’ve got. It’s the only thing in my life I draw enjoyment out of, the only thing that fulfills me.”

She hugged him. “Well… it WAS the only thing.

“So, I was going to use the holidays to stay with Cyn and live as me, and look for a new job in Helena as Jocelyn … in a town where almost no one knows Joseph. So see, I had a hidden agenda for this trip too.”

Alan pondered. “So you and I both were going to Helena to start over, basically. A fresh life. For each of us. And maybe, now… together?”

He sat up in bed. “Dammit, we are NOT going to die here! We are getting out! I - we both - now have something not just to run from, but also to run towards! We are going to survive, you hear me? I’ve got to find us some food, and somehow signal for a rescue!”

“Alan… I’ve been thinking… this sounds really gross, but I may have something you could eat.”

He looked at her, befuddled. “Why is that gross?”

“Because… it’s dog food.”

She jumped out of the covers, and pulled a gift-wrapped box from her suitcase.

“These are dog treats. They were to be Sissy’s Christmas present. Cyn has a shih tzu.”

Alan unwrapped it. “Hm. Not a lot of them here, but it would be something…”

“Something for you, maybe. I don’t think I could keep them down. But I got the cocoa this morning, and you didn’t.”

Alan was reading the label. “Hey… these treats are meat-based! ‘Made from real cuts of beef’!”

“That’s good, right? You need some protein.”

He grabbed Jocelyn and spun her around, laughing. “Baby — you just got me some new fishing bait!”

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TO BE CONTINUED ON 12/03
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This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of these characters to any actual person living or dead is coincidental.

Thanks to Sephrena Lynn Miller for a quick first read!

Thanks to Holly H. Hart for beta reading and editing!

Thanks to the "BCTS Closeteers" - expecially Jana - for help with the pic!

If you've gotten this far, please leave a comment! (Don't make me reach through the screen and tweak your nose!)

Thanks for reading! **Sigh**