Chapter 20 – Last Dance?

Dean and his mom dropped me at home after our ice dancing class. What Dean had just told me at the end of our class was devastating. I had to bite my tongue all the way home and sound like I was okay. It came out of the blue. I rushed across the street to see Doug before anyone could see me. Thankfully, he was home alone. I did the only thing I could do at that point. I fell into his arms and sobbed in pain free of the need to hide my reaction.

“What is it?” Doug asked. The concern in his voice was genuine and reassuring. That is one of the nice things about Doug. He has a good ear. He was my medicine for a broken heart.

In between sobs, I blurted out, “Dean is leaving me!”

“What do you mean leaving you?”

I held my tears back for a moment. I gargled out through sobs, “His Dad just got a new job in Atlanta. He is moving there after the end of school. I am losing him! I am losing my partner. What am I going to do?”

Doug just held me. There wasn’t anything he could say that would sooth me. I needed to get this out before my parents saw me. I didn’t want them to know that the boy I think I loved was leaving and my soul felt crushed.

“Just let it out.” Doug said the only right thing he could. I needed to let it all go. For seven months, Dean and I had been forming an intimate bond. He knew how I felt. His words to me after the lesson were if I wanted to stop our lessons that he would understand. I stupidly answered that I would think about it. I must have come off cold and calculating. The truth was that I was a deer caught in the headlights. Mrs. Pilsner couldn’t have been nicer when she walked up at the rink to take us home. I think she could tell I just got the news.

When I had calmed down enough for us to talk, Doug asked, “When is he leaving?”

“First week of June I think. He said the company would sell their home and help them find a new one in Atlanta.”

Doug cut to the quick. “Do you love him?”

“I think so. I don’t know. I have never been in love before. Mom has been very good about keeping our relationship very basic. I can’t do much with her at the school watching us either.”

“Okay, Sis. Here is what I want you to tell your parents. Concentrate on telling them you are upset because you lost a dance partner which means not doing something you have come really to love. But, you can talk to me about your feelings about Dean. Okay?”

I blew my nose and hugged Doug. “Okay.” We went outside and sat on his porch. The day was warm and the breeze was consoling for my bruised heart. It brought the scent of spring flowers and of freshly cut grass. The birds were singing.

“You better touch up your make up. I can tell you have been crying.” Doug stroked my back and gave me a brief hug.

I reached in my purse and grabbed my little kit. I made corrections and cleaned myself up.

I looked up the street and watched someone run the stop sign at a slow speed. I turned to Doug and said finally, “I think I love him. But, how do I know for sure?”

“If I could answer that one with clarity, I would have my own talk show. I would be the Phil Donahue of love rather than the Jay Leno of love here on this porch. Okay, take it from the beginning. What transpired?”

I placed my hands on the bench with a firm grip as if I could gain strength from it. “We finished our lesson. Dean was making huge progress. I was amazed at how far he had come. He can really hold his edges and we were doing basic quick steps on the ice. We were starting to look like we can ice dance. I was thrilled and I think he was too. That is, I thought he was. As we were unlacing our skates, Dean told me that he had something serious to tell me before his Mom showed up. His Dad, an executive with a manufacturing firm, had gotten a job with a company based out of Atlanta. It would mean double the money he was making now and that they could pay for his college. But it also meant that he would have to move to Atlanta too.”

Doug processed what I said for a moment carefully organizing his thoughts. “Did he say how he felt about you?”

“Not exactly. He hugged me and cried a little. He said would miss me. And that we could stay in touch. He then asked if I would …” I broke down and sobbed for a moment. “… like to continue our lessons anyway. And that is when I stupidly said I would think about it.” I looked down and blushed from the shame of what I said.

When I looked back up at Doug, he scrunched his face. He then looked me in the eye. “Have you told him yet that you love him?”

I responded defensively, “Well, if he wasn’t going to say he loved me, I just didn’t see a reason to give up my feelings too. Not at that moment. He is the one leaving me after all!”

He calmly replied, “Someone needs to express how they feel before it is too late.”

I pleaded, “But, he is leaving. We can’t have a long distance romance unless he realizes he is in love with me first. Right?”

“Regardless, expressing your feelings now will make a difference in your next relationship. You will carry the wounds of this relationship into the next one. Healing them now will mean that you both will make better choices in your next relationship if there is to be one and if you are to remain together, it will make your relationship stronger if you communicate sooner rather than later.”

I sounded a little terse and jerked my eyes back to the road. “Is that Dr. Cramer talking?”

“Maybe. A little. But, I know, as the doctor I want to be, that a patient needs to heal completely or else they could become injured the same way or worse the next go around.”

I sat and thought about what Doug said for a moment. He was being a good friend. He was being honest. I softened. I apologetically said, “You are right. I need to express how I feel to him. If for no other reason that I do love him and want the best for him. Even if it isn’t meant to be me. And, I will begin with you. I love my brother. He is my best friend and I don’t know where I would be if it weren’t for him.” I hugged Doug. “Thank you! I love you, Bro!”

Doug said affectionately, “I love you too, Sis!”

I went home and prepared dinner for the evening. We were having fish and chips plus salad. I made chocolate ice cream the day before for dessert.

“Are you okay?” I looked up from my meal and saw that Mom was looking at me with a worried expression.

“It hurts to say goodbye. We have had a lot of fun dancing and ice dancing. I guess it was me who I thought would do the leaving.”

Jane interjected, “I am so sorry, Pipsqueak. What are you going to do?”

I poked at my food. “I just don’t know if I should call him and tell him that I would love to finish out our ice dancing class or not. It just isn’t going to be the same without him this summer. Or even next fall.”

“I know. You really looked forward to your dance classes with him. But, you knew that sooner or later it was going to end, right?” Dad asked. “Maybe it is better this way. Just quit while you are ahead.” The last part hurt. I winced.

“Yeah. Maybe it is better this way.” I bit my tongue, but I must have sounded angry. I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “Mind if I go write my thank you letter to the French Ambassador? I think I want to be alone for a bit.”

“Go ahead. I think you need to have a little time to yourself.” Mom said. She gave my Dad a glance as if she was disappointed with what he said. I heard her talking sternly to him as I left the dining room.

I went upstairs and started to work on a thank you letter for the guitar. I finished it quickly and then sat there thinking about the turn of events. I was getting depressed at the prospect of losing my first love before I even had a chance to explore what that meant. Mom came in a little while latter to check on me. She took one look at me and said, “C’mon. Your hair needs brushing.” I dragged myself over to my bed without much complaint.

“Thanks mom.” As she began brushing my hair, I asked, “Is it always so hard to say goodbye?”

“Yes. Especially for you right now. You have only recently started to make friends. And, now, you have a good friend that if you weren’t in a dress, you could easily be friends with in class anyway. And, you can’t express to him how you really feel about your friendship because you are in disguise.” She kept brushing my hair and I felt myself relaxing. Her words made sense.

“I heard how Dad would handle it. How would you handle this, Mom?”

“I really can’t say. But, I think I would finish the ice dancing course and keep your friendship going until the end of school. That is what you would have done anyway. Or rather, what I might have done. I have made so many friends over the years in school only to make new ones the next year and have old friendships end. There is every possibility that your friendship with Dean would have only lasted this school year. And even if it continued, you would wake up one day and he would be gone. Take your Dad. He has only one friend from his youth, Chris, that he sees on a regular basis.”

I thought about what she said. Her rhythmic brushing was easing my conflicting emotions and allowing them to become focused. “I can see that. Like the man he ran into at the hotel whose daughter got married. He hadn’t seen him for years.” I reflected on the magical dance we had and how much it meant to me. Then a horrible thought hit me. “Does this mean it could happen with Mary too?”

“I have to be honest. It could mean Mary too. You and Mary will continue for a long time. You both have grown too close for you two not to remain close. But, come college, sooner or later, you could find yourselves just writing Christmas cards to each other like I do with my best girlfriend Stacy from middle school. When she and Bobby got married, we went our separate ways. Of course, I always knew they were going to get married after I found out that she was a bridesmaid at the wedding of Bobby’s sister, Pat.”

She finished brushing my hair and handed me the brush. She smiled as I re-positioned myself on the bed and began to brush her hair. “So, in the past you have felt like I do?”

“Oh yes. I ran home plenty of times in tears because a relationship ended when someone didn’t talk to me anymore or said something mean to me or they left.”

“Did it ever get easier?”

“No. Not really. You are going to feel pain for awhile no matter what. There is no getting around it. The question you have to ask is how you want it to end so you can live with it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you could call it quits now and only see him in school like Dad thinks you should do. Or, you could finish the class and then say goodbye on those terms.”

“But, which is the right decision?”

“That is up to you. They both have merits. And each situation is unique. I am sure you will do the right thing.”

“Thank you, Mom.”

“For what?”

“Listening and not telling me what to do. You are letting me grow up, aren’t you?”

“Yep. I am.”

“I think it would be best to finish the class. We both enjoy it and it will be nice to have more memories of being with my good friend.”

“There’s my good girl! You came up with this one on your own.” We hugged. I liked our mother and daughter chats. My mother is a wise woman.

I talked to Dean the next day. I pulled him aside as we went into choir room.

“Dean, I had a night to think about it. I want to continue with our ice dancing lessons, if you don’t mind.” He smiled.

“I-I w-was h-hoping you w-would s-say that.” He seemed relieved.

“And Dean, there is something important I need to tell you though.”

“W-what?”

I pulled him further away from the other students so we had some privacy. “I don’t know what it means yet or really what it is about, but, I love you.” Dean looked at me and blushed.

“I-I l-love you t-too.”

“I know we will move on and meet other people. Maybe we can get together one day. Who knows. But, I wanted you to know that you are my first love and always will be. If that is the only thing I can give you, then I wanted you to have it before you left.”

“Y-you a-are my f-first k-kiss and f-first l-l-love too.”

He took my hand. I said, “Thank you.”

“C-can w-we g-go to the l-last d-dance of the s-school y-year t-too?”

“I will have to check my calendar back home, but I would love to go to the school dance with you. Yes.”

Checking my calendar, I found there was a conflict with the stings. I called Debbie who said she would get back with me. An hour or so later, she called and the sting was moved to the following weekend. Dean was happy to find out the next day that it was a definite yes.

Grandma picked me up from school instead of Mom driving me home. I had a special appointment. Once I got to my grandparents’ place, I pulled out of her car’s boot the suitcase she brought for me and took it up to her condo. In it was a long flowing dress I had made. I put it on and she helped me with the ribbons. She brushed out my hair and put a ribbon in the back. As part of their condo’s common area, they had a lawn and a gazebo surrounded by flowers. It was more decorative than functional. When we got down to it, I saw Cat with his easel and paint kit. But, on the easel was a big sketch pad. I was delighted when he came up and gave me a French ‘bise.’

“Merci, mon ami.”

“You’re welcome. I don’t speak French, but I think I sure can paint it.” Cat looked casual and relaxed. He was in a long sleeved polo dress shirt. He had a short leather apron with artist tools. And, he had a baseball cap to keep the sun out of his eyes. He didn’t look like Monet. But, he did look like Cat.

He set about giving me several poses to do and started sketching me. It was wonderful. For about an hour, all he did was sketch me in various poses from different angles. He even had props for me which included daises, roses, and other bouquets of flowers. Finally, he called me over to the gazebo and laid the various sketches out on the floor. I marveled at how he critiqued his own work.

He asked me if I had any preference. I told him that he was the master and I was just the subject of the work. I trusted his judgment. Finally, he pointed to a pose with me holding a bouquet of red roses and looking off towards a lake where there were men fishing. He could tell by my smile that I loved it.

“I don’t know why, but it speaks to me too.” He said.

And then, he began to have me pose again. As a I stood there, he talked to me.

“Why are you so sad, Samantha?”

“How can you tell?”

“I am an artist. I am trained to read people. That is why I picked this pose for you. Your sadness makes it an interesting piece.”

“My friend Dean is leaving at the end of next month. He and I have been dance partners since September.”

“Do you love him?”

“Yes, I think so. But, I have never been in love before.”

“I will tell you what, when I am done, chose one of the sketches and you can get it framed. You can give it to him as a going away gift.”

“Thank you, Cat. That is very kind of you. In fact, all of this is very kind of you. I am so honored.”

“You’re welcome. If you don’t mind my asking, how long have you known who you are?”

“Since I can remember. I was too intimidated to say anything more after my grandmother got mad at me.”

“Well, I am glad that you have found a way to be your true self. It suits you. Even when you are sad, you seem happier than before.”

“Cat, I was wondering, if I hadn’t had this opportunity to come out, would you have talked to me about it?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I saw your inner struggle and knew. I just didn’t have enough information to know whether I would have made it better or worse for you. I am an artist. I don’t think I would make a good psychologist.”

“That’s okay. I was just curious.” We chatted on and off as he painted. I was grateful for the late summer hours we had. Sunset would be after eight o’clock giving him really good light.

After what seemed like ages, Cat called me over to look at the painting. It was gorgeous. It showed me standing at edge of the gazebo looking out towards a lake with my hands holding on to a bouquet of red roses. I looked at the lake and on it was a boat with men in it fishing. My smile and face were radiant. The image conveyed that like the fish, I had been baited and hooked by the roses. I hadn’t noticed it, but the roses had a ribbon and a card attached. Obviously, someone had given me the roses and I was pleased. My dress was beautiful and my hair charming. I looked French, innocent, and naive. I also looked in love. I guess because, in a sense, I was innocent and naive. Looking at the fishermen and realizing I had been caught, the little sadness in my face gave it a sense of not foreboding, but of concern or fear that I would become just another catch.

“I thought it would take multiple sessions and would take forever.” I said. I was amazed by the completeness of the painting.

“Not in the impressionistic style. It was a method of painting quickly. I mean, I still have a lot of work to do on it, but the basics are there. I should have it done by the end of the week.”

“Thank you, Cat. You are amazing.” I hugged him.

“So are you. It wasn’t hard to capture someone so beautiful.” I blushed.

“But I am sad about one thing I couldn’t capture.”

“What is that, Cat?”

“Your pretty smell, obviously. I like the perfume you are wearing. It is very nice.” I turned even more red.

Grandma wandered down stairs to see our progress. She was amazed by the painting too. She asked if she could have a copy. I stepped away so they could negotiate. They worked out an agreement for the price. So, there would be two paintings. One in my home and one in my grandparents. Cat winked at me. I knew what he was thinking. It would make it easier for everyone if they could see me everyday as a young lady in love.

The fact of the matter was that I was a young girl in love. I was awakening to the reality that one day I would be a wife, a mother, and a lover. That painting caught a view of my future and I was thrilled. In one sense, Cat painted me into a corner. In another sense, he caught me as I became Samantha, the woman. I didn’t just feel or look girly in the painting. I was all girl. No hint of boy and his puppy dog tails. Just puppy love.

As I regarded the painting, Cat asked, “Do you mind modeling for a few more painting, Samantha?”

Grandma answered for me. “I think that would be fine, Cat. As long as it is like this wonderful painting and nothing undressed or suggestive.”

“Of course not, Mrs. Miller. And thank you for the complement.” Cat turned to me and winked. “I like your grandmother. She is keeping me honest.”

The next night, I got dressed in a lovely dress I had recently acquired. I did my hair and nails. And I spritzed a little perfume on me. I put on some wedges and Mom dropped me off at the Hinks. I rang the doorbell and stood back wondering how I would be received.

A lovely teenage girl with a nice figure answered the door. She looked a little like Tommy, albeit more girly, of course. And she did look familiar as if I might have seen her before. She was wearing what looked like Baby Phat jeans and a simple top. She had studded ears. Her hair was long and parted in the middle. I might have seen her at Canterbury for sure if I had but opened my eyes more.

She, in response to my obvious inspection of her, looked me up and down checking me out. I must have passed her test because she smiled warmly. “You must be Samantha. A real pleasure. I am Connie.” She put out her hand to shake mine.

I took her hand and also gave her a French ‘bise’ on both cheeks too. I noticed she wasn’t startled by this. In fact, I think she expected it. “Yes, I am. Thank you for inviting me to dinner. It was very kind of you. I think your jeans are cute too. Aren’t they Baby Phat? ”

“Why yes, they are.” I could tell she was impressed that I knew the company and had some fashion sense.

Anticipating her next question, I said, “Well, when you play an almost teenage girl in school, you are bound to learn a few things about fashion. For example, I recently saw this dress in a catalog and just had to have it.”

She warmly said, “I like that choice of dress on you. It looks good on you. I couldn’t wear it though. It isn’t my coloring or body type. But it is real cute on you.”

“Oh my!” I twirled around. “Do you really like it on me?”

“Oh yes.” She was clearly having trouble believing I was a boy by now and responded as she might with another girlfriend. “It looks good and fits you pretty well in all the right places.”

“Thanks!” I answered sounding rather giddy. “It is so nice to have an opinion from someone who knows what she is talking about.”

Tommy came up behind her and I also gave him a kiss on both checks. “Hi Tommy. You look handsome tonight.” He blushed as well as I did too. I did not realizing how much like a girl I was behaving until those words escaped my mouth.

Mrs. Hinks poked her head into the hallway from what I thought was the kitchen. “C’mon guys! Invite her in. Have you told her about our special guest yet?”

“No, Mom.” Tommy turned to me. “Bill is coming over later. He wants to talk to me and my folks. He was thrilled to hear that you would be here too.”

They led me into their living room. A man was reading the paper in a sedan chair when we came in. He folded it and put it down. He stood up and came over to greet me. He stood at least six foot two. He was greying in his temples, his hairline receding, with his hair being a much darker shade of Tommy’s hair. His face was kind and was offset nicely by his dark eyebrows which had a few grey hairs in them to complement his temples. His eyes were brown and puppy dog like. He had Tommy’s engaging smile set off by a cleft chin that made his smile irresistible and friendly. “Hi, I am Todd Hinks, the father of these two little rascals. And you must be Samantha! My, you are a very pretty girl!” I blushed again.

“Thank you sir. That is very kind of you to say.”

“No, I mean it. I can see why they want to have you work for them. If I hadn’t known, I would never suspected a thing.”

Gratefully, Tommy changed the subject. “I heard you came in third. We went home too soon. We should have stayed around to support you. But, a lot of our adults wanted to get home since it was Easter weekend. Bad timing, I guess.”

“There was little they could do. The competition has always been the second weekend of the month in April. This year it meant it was on Easter.”

Connie spoke up. “I hear from our choir members that you did a great solo and a terrific job at the piano and guitar. You are a very talented girl, er, I mean ...”

“Please, don’t correct yourself. My disguise is my protection. If you correct yourself, you may reveal to someone who I really am. In fact, my Mom insists that I dress as a girly girl for that reason.”

“Don’t your parents miss the real you?” Mr. Hinks asked sounding rather puzzled.

“I suppose they do. But, they also know that I am safer as I am and they can sleep at night. I guess it is a little different for you since Tommy isn’t in disguise.” That explanation seemed to make sense to him.

“Well, they have instituted some changes. Tommy doesn’t go or come home from school alone plus a few other things. But, aside from that, it hasn’t really changed much.” Mr. Hinks motioned me to follow him into the dining room.

The dinner was very straight forward. Roast beef, mashed potatoes, and some veggies. New York cheesecake for dessert with sugared strawberries. The conversation at the table was amiable and varied. I found out that Mr. Hinks worked in home construction ordering supplies and managing deliveries to the homes being built. He said on special occasions, to get the right material or product, he has needed to use the city’s engineer’s office for special permits which is where he had encountered my Dad. He liked him because he told it straight. And, in the final analysis, that helped him get permitted quicker than a round robin approach that cost time as each thing was dealt with by his company while the city held back on telling him all that needed to be done.

Connie, expressed her gratitude for what I did for her. She skipped the subject after that and concentrated on what a good job I did passing for a girl. I enjoyed hearing about what a good job I was doing.

Just after dessert, the doorbell rang, and Bill came in to discuss with the Hinks what and why of how he became a vice officer years ago before joining the state police.

“I want both you, Tommy, and you, Samantha, to hear why I got into law enforcement. And, I want you, Connie, to hear it too since you were a victim also. I think it will help you understand why what you all are doing is so important.”

“I grew up in a family of means. They lived in a neighborhood that had a golf course. It was surrounded by the local Country Club. Some homes were mansions. Some were modest, but upscale. I lived in one of the modest, but upscale homes. Every year, the Country Club put on a Club championship for the men in the middle of October. It lasted for four days and all the stops were pulled out for those in the tournament to have a good time, win or lose. One year, when I was thirteen, I wandered onto the golf course from my home to watch the men play. I was just taking up golf and wanted to watch how men played from the tee and the green. They had a refreshment tent set up between the sixth green and the seventh tee with drinks and snacks for the men. It was run by a college grad student who had been hired to be a kind of bartender for the men coming through. I began to talk to the bartender in between foursomes. For a thirteen year old kid to be around so much soda and goodies was awesome.”

“Let’s call the bartender Eric. I talked to Eric about what college was like. He appeared to be a real nice guy. He even gave me free sodas. After a couple of hours, I went home. I came back the next day to watch even more golf. Eric, I didn’t realize, was directing our conversation to be more and more intimate. The subject of girls got brought up. I talked about how tough it was to get to know them when I was just a freshman and a nobody. Then, I don’t know how, the subject of my body got brought up. How much hair I had yet and what I thought of my looks while naked. It all seemed so innocent the way I was being asked. I mentioned something that any doctor would have told me was normal about my appearance. I won’t describe it because of Connie being here, but essentially, body parts are often unequal when they first spring forth in puberty for both men and women. And I was no different.”

“However, Eric used that as leverage to tell me that he could show me how to massage myself to get rid of that inequity. I fell for it not knowing any better. While massaging my privates, which I felt uncomfortable with as he did it, he said that he and some of his friends would love me to join their group the next day, which was a Saturday. And by friends, I got the message that they were all guys. By then, I knew something was wrong. I politely retreated and left the tent. I was embarrassed and conflicted at what just happened. I felt I couldn’t tell my parents because I had brought this on myself. I just knew it was wrong. I did nothing, but, at the time, I felt it was my fault. Looking back on it, I should have reported him to the authorities. Yet, I didn’t know how back then even if I had realized I had been molested. Plus, like the teenager I was, I didn’t see beyond myself and that Eric could do this to others.”

“Sounds so much like what happened to me!” Connie was shocked to hear the story, as was I. “Thank you for telling me. I thought I was alone.” Connie was clearly moved by the story.

“Yes, it does. Because it is! And you aren’t alone! As children, you are taught to respect your elders and adults. When someone in authority uses that to get you to do something you shouldn’t normally do, it is wrong. In your case, Connie, you were being what we call, ‘groomed,’ for exploitation. It is important for you to know that the adult doing it to you knows full well what they are doing and count on you being naive and will play on your guilt to get their way. They are dropping your boundaries little by little. They will rationalize it, like Eric did with me no doubt, by saying it is what you wanted. But, at your tender age, it is simply and morally wrong. I was naive and he knew it. Same thing with Josh and you. He knew you were naive and would have exploited you.”

“I find it hard to believe you were naive. How naive were you?” Connie asked.

“Well, the best way I can explain it that back then I didn’t get the classic joke about the vampire wanting to see the teacher next period that I heard in 7th grade until four months after this incident. That is how naive I was back then.”

Tommy was putting two and two together. “So, if you were being molested, does that mean that I could be bait too?”

“Yes, Tommy. That is why I am here. I want you and your parents to consider not just protecting Samantha here. I would like you all to consider letting us use you too in the stings. There are a lot of pedophiles out there who are victimizing boys as well as girls. I am proof of that. We want you to think it over and discuss it. I wanted to tell you this story because it is all too common. Most people will believe a girl’s story long before they will believe that of a boy. I was molested and could have been raped by this man. The odds that I would have been believed at that time were not good. They are much better today.”

Bill sat back in his chair. “Mr. and Mrs. Hinks, Tommy, and Connie. There are a lot of sick people out there. That is why I have my son in Boy Scouts. Starting in 1913, the BSA started background checks on those in scouting to make sure that no one was going to molest a boy. Those standards are improving every year. And the BSA is on the forefront of those changes. Youth Protection is a big deal.”

“How would you use Tommy?” Mr. Hinks asked.

“Well, in this last sting, we used Samantha as an au pair from France. The only change we would make is tell the mark that Tommy is having relations with her and that the ‘Dad’ has video taped them having relations and has photographed it too. But, we will only do this with your permission.”

“That would be it?” Mrs. Hinks inquired.

“Yes. It would mean that we could attract double the marks.”

Tommy looked at me. “Does that mean we would have to hold hands and be all kissy face?”

“Not exactly. Holding hands, yes. Maybe pecks on the cheek. Hugging each other to be sure.” Bill said.

“I could handle that, Sir. Especially after someone tried to drive me nuts at the last sting by giving me cheek kisses and flirting with me in jest. It means I can get her back.” He winked at me. I blushed and looked down. Although, I did have a smile on my face. I certainly enjoyed teasing him.

“Thank you, Bill. You have given us a lot to think about. We will let you know before Friday. And, I am sorry to hear about what happened to you.” Mr. Hinks was very definitive in his voice and I got the impression that the discussion was over.

Bill brought me home. On the way home, I had to ask, “Did you ever find Eric and arrest him?”

“No. But, I am sure he will get caught if he hasn’t already. Sadly, it will be after he has ruined the life of too many boys. It is a regret I will have for the rest of my life.”

“Dr. Cramer has been talking to me about boundaries and learning to set them properly. The more I work with her, the more I learn. I think she has greatly improved my life.”

“I am glad to hear that. She is a remarkable woman and mentor. You listen to her.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Friday, Mom and I flew with Tommy and his Mom to St. Louis. Debbie met us at the airport and took us west towards a small community just off the interstate. It was near the Daniel Boone Home, a place he retired to late in life. Tommy and his parents agreed to the new format of the stings. I think Bill’s confession of what happened to him made it personal and meaningful instead of just asking.

We traveled along a curvy road on a pleasant country road. It was a hilly area. After a bit, we pulled into a two story home that was similar to the one we used in Virginia. I found out real fast that it had a fine kitchen and a pool in the backyard. It did have one feature that the previous home didn’t have. It had a tennis court and basketball court cut into the hill surrounding the home. In all respects, it was a lovely home even though it was a bit isolated. We settled in. Agent Lamont was going to be the Dad again. And, agent Iris was the lookout again. This time, sadly, her little baby boy was back home in Virginia with his Dad.

I heard a woman call out in a pleasant voice, “Samantha!”

“Yes, Ma’am.” I turned around and was pleased to see Agent Iris. “Oh my! It is wonderful to see you again. How is Issac?”

“Issac is in good spirits. He is home and Dad is looking after him. Thank you for the Shepherd's pie. It tasted great. My husband felt very guilty for what happened. And he said he owes you a great deal for taking care of Issac during that time. I must say that I am grateful too. The meal helped us talk. How did you know to send me back with a meal?”

“Simple. You weren’t breast feeding. That meant both of you were so busy that you couldn’t pump and expect to connect with your husband long enough to give him your milk. I guessed that unless you arrived at home with a prepared meal, you two would likely go out to dinner instead of staying at home to work things out. Issac insisted I make you dinner.” I winked.

Debbie patted me on the back. “Nancy Drew again?” I looked at her and grinned.

“Yeah. Besides, it meant I had to cook again. Speaking of which, I have had time to look at the kitchen. Mom has a list of supplies for you. Looks like I am going to have some fun tomorrow morning cooking with Tommy and swimming in the afternoon.”

I began to get into character. Grandpa wasn’t here, so I couldn’t use him to converse with. I did the next best thing. I picked up a book in French. I continued my adventures with Jean-Val-Jean. I grabbed a Walkman I had recently purchased and put in a tape of Jean-Jacques Goldman songs. I spent an hour just listening to French and began to think in French once again. By the time Debbie and Mom came back from the grocery store, I had begun to speak French or English with a French accent.

“Salut. Puis-je vous assister?” (Hello, can I help you?)

“Getting into character? Good girl!” Lamount was happy I was taking things seriously. Tommy just said in a teasing tone, “Oh no, not again.” Tommy rolled his eyes and chuckled.

I gave Tommy a French ‘bise’ on both cheeks and said, “Bien sur !” He blushed.

Mom and I cooked a quick meal for everyone of chicken parmesan and pasta. It was well received. I really enjoyed working with her. The next morning, Tommy and I spent a great deal of time in the kitchen. I taught him how to saute onions, kneed dough, etc. It was fun working with him. The marks came through as they did the time before and they were processed soon after. It was all good. Tommy and I enjoyed flirting in front of them. In fact, we laughed and played together more like a girlfriend and boyfriend.

We served French Onion soup for lunch with Caesar salad. We had brewed up some nice tea earlier in the day. We left the preparations for dinner to Mom.

The sun came around and hit the pool in the afternoon, so after lunch, we changed and headed to the pool. The pool was very nice and had a water feature of a cascading water fall over rocks that almost blended in with the hill behind the home. There was a shower area off the pool and a bathroom shielded from the pool by a wooden slated privacy wall. Agent Jesse was placed on the shower side since he could watch out for us as we worked. The Guardian Ad Litem had insisted on this safety feature.

I wore a one piece again, but this time, I had the courage to use my breast forms to enhance the suit’s look. I trusted that the special glue holding them on would survive the pool. Truth be told, my body was changing. I was developing more curves. Subtle, but there. My butt was getting rounder and my face was losing baby fat. And, recently, I noticed my breast were becoming sensitive.

I could tell that Tommy was intrigued. I had bumps when I came out to the pool. Nice ones too. We began to chat away in French and English like we had before. And, once again, the process started. Only this time, we held hands and acted lovey dovey on chaises or sitting on the side of the pool as we saw the marks pass by in the house. Agent Lamont would stick his head out the sliding door and ask how we were doing.

About two thirty, a mark had been just taken away. We were sitting on the side of the pool when out of the corner of my eye I caught a flash over the rocks of the water feature. I realized what it could be. I calmly looked at Tommy and with a quick side glance allowed my eyes to take in the hill. I apprehended quickly that someone was watching us on the hill behind the home with binoculars. Remaining calm, I took Tommy’s hand and said in a low voice looking down at our hands, “Please do what I say without question. This is not a joke. Walk me over to the wooden wall and start flirting with me with your back against the wall. Please trust me.”

Tommy looked at me for a moment. He could tell by my look I wasn’t joking. He and I got up and started walking over to the wooden wall. He leaned back. I flirted back and said in a low voice, “Agent Jesse. There is somebody on the hill behind the house watching us with binoculars. Tommy and I are going to flirt and play here on the fence while you guys get’em.”

“Roger that.” We then heard him get on the radio and call the lookout agent to report the problem. Tommy and I continued our flirting. I brushed my hair back in a flirtatious way and said to him, “Run your hands over my falsies. We need to keep the person watching us totally engaged.”

“Is this what real ones feel like?” I closed my eyes and pretended to be enjoying it.

“I don’t know. I assume so. I have never done it myself with a real girl. Here, pull back my suit and look down at them. That should give the dude up there something to think about. And don’t worry, these are the falsies I wear for swimming. They don’t look real.”

Tommy pulled out my suit and looked down at them. “Yes, I see what you mean. We kept it up for about ten minutes with us pretending to exam our bodies without actually taking our suits off. Then, Agent Jesse said, “Got him. Why don’t you guys take a break inside while I go check out the kid.”

Tommy and I looked at each other and said in unison, “The kid?”

Inside, Agent Lamont was leading a kid about our age into the den with Debbie following close behind. The kid was clearly scared. He was in handcuffs. Jesse turned to us after he was lead into the processing room, and said, “Neighborhood kid. Likes to watch the people that usually live here from the hill. He probably likes watching them skinny dip in the summer. So, I am sure he was wondering if he had new prey to watch with you two. His secret is out now. Looks like we are going to have an interesting talk with his parents later.”

Tommy turned to me. “Samantha, how did you know? And why were you so calm?”

“I could see the flash of the lenses of the binoculars in the hill. I put two and two together. I knew the agents are our partners. My grandfather has taught me to trust them and that they will know what to do. And I do.”

Agent Jesse spoke next. “She is right, Tommy. Our job is to protect you.” He turned his full attention to Tommy. “Samantha knows that if she sees something she doesn’t like, she need only bring it to our attention and we will do something about it. The same goes for you. Partners watch out for each other. We had a contingency plan for the hill. What we didn’t know is that the back of the hill neighbor had a Peeping Tom for a son who liked to climb the hill and do a little snooping. Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to make fun of your name.”

Tommy laughed. “I understand. It’s just that I am amazed at how she did it. I would have panicked and you would have lost the kid.” He looked at me and smiled and shook his head in disbelief.

“You trusted me when I asked you too. I think you are being too hard on yourself, Tommy.”

Mom came up behind me. She had been listening the whole time. “She is right, Tommy. If you didn’t respect Samantha, you wouldn’t have trusted her. That is something money can’t buy. Thank you for putting your faith in her.”

Mrs. Hinks chimed in with pride, “That’s my son! He’s a good soldier.”

Mom diplomatically said, “Yes, he is!” And then she patted Mrs. Hinks on the shoulder giving her a smile.

Tommy looked at me. He was embarrassed by his mother’s affirmation of his character. I could tell he felt disturbed because in his heart he knew he would have blown it.

We continued our work at the pool. The kid had been sent in for processing. That way we could finish our job and by the time the parents got him out of juvenile detention, we would be done.

In between marks, Tommy looked down and said, “Samantha. Last year, you taught me the value of friendship by staying with a friend to the very end. Then you teach me how to cook and improve the relationship between me and my mother. Now you are teaching me the value of partnership. Thank you.”

I hugged him. “You’re welcome.”

That weekend yielded even more successful arrests than the previous sting. They got a new crop that wanted boys too. We captured nearly forty men. All of whom were engaged in exchanging files of child pornography.

As a reward, Debbie took us to the Daniel Boone Home which was run by a local college. Agent Debbie had arranged a special docent to take us on quick tour. Her Dad.

“Hello Samantha! I am so glad finally to meet you. You are all Debbie talks about these days.”

I went up and hugged him. “Hi Mr. Moore. It is so nice to meet you at last too. Debbie thinks you are the best Dad in the whole world. Personally, I think it is mine.” I enjoyed teasing him.

“Well, Debbie insisted that I get out and exercise to avoid another heart attack. And, she found me this docent job. I retired a while back, so this is great. I get outdoors and teach high school students during the year.”

We walked the grounds. They were gorgeous. I found out that Boone retired out here. He hated being indoors and this gave him a chance to be outside as much as possible.

One of the things Mr. Moore showed us was a two person saw. Tommy and I tried it out. Our moms laughed as we tried to saw a log. Then he arranged a little sawing competition. Tommy and I beat our moms. We high fived each other.

I watched Debbie and her Dad. At her age, she still held his hand when she walked with him. She clearly loved the man. And I could see how proud he was of his daughter. The way he looked at her with love was incredible. I realized my Dad looked at me and Jane the same way. Dads are really so special.

Debbie took us to the airport. I hugged her and told her that I really appreciated meeting her Dad. And, yes, I told her, he is awesome.

After school on Thursday, I had homework to do for most of my classes. I sat in my room listening to Chopin finishing up my homework. Mom knocked at the door. “Honey, there is someone downstairs to give you something special.” I looked up from my homework. She had this big grin on her face. I wondered what it could be. I quickly followed her downstairs. There was Cat with a painting wrapped in brown paper.

“Hi Cat! Is it done?”

Cat looked pleased with himself. “Well, you will have to get it framed. But, yes, it is done.” He set up an easel in our living room and put the painting on it and removed the brown paper. Mom gasped. “It is gorgeous! She looks so beautiful. Thank you, Cat!”

“The copy for your grandmother is still drying. I used a hardener with this one since I was being a true impressionist. It got me an A, by the way. My teacher wanted me to show it, but, I told her that I would have others soon and that I had to pay back my model with this one first.”

I gave Cat a big hug and a ‘bise.’ “Of course you will. I would love to pose for more.”

“We will have to get it framed now. Ready for a trip to the mall, Samantha?” Mom said.

We headed off to the mall where we got the painting framed and the sketch framed too. I picked up a few Monet paintings. Mostly of water lilies. More paintings for my little art gallery.

A few days later, on a visit by Miranda and her Dad, I walked inside to find Bill and Grandpa laughing. To my delight, Miranda came up to me and asked if we could have a tea party. Before I let her take me away, I asked Bill why they were laughing. It turns out that Debbie and Carlson were dating that night. Bill had arranged for someone to look after Mrs. Murphy and he was watching out for Miranda and her Dad.

I grinned at them understanding what had happened. “So, they are an item?”

Miranda sang, “First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby carriage.” She began to giggle. “Mommy taught me that one!”

We had a tea party. We talked about all sorts of stuff. Then, I took her to Jane’s room and pulled out her trundle. I read another chapter from Pippi Longstockings. She was still awake when I finished the chapter. She looked up at me. “Samantha, I think you will make a wonderful mommy. I wish we could go back home where I could see more of my mommy. She is always working since we came here and has to travel too far to work.”

I reached over and held her hand. “I think once this case is over, you will see much more of your mommy. But, how about we do something for her now? Because, I bet she misses spending time with you.”

Mr. Murphy was listening, “What are you thinking, Samantha?”

“Let’s do a photo album. We can make one with all the things that Miranda does here. So, that when you return to Denver, you can share with her all the times you all missed because of the change in venue.”

“Daddy, I like that idea!” Miranda was getting too excited by the idea.

“Calm down Miranda. We will work on it. You get a good night’s sleep and we will work on it tomorrow.

The next day, Miranda, her Dad, and I visited the store and got a photo album. At the same time, I picked up the painting and the sketch we had framed. We took them home. Mom and Dad put the painting of me in the living room. They spent a great deal of time figuring out where they wanted it to be put. In the end, it went into a place where anyone on the couch could see it.

Cat had titled it “Fisherman’s Catch.” Miranda thought I looked beautiful and loved the picture. Mr. Murphy thought it was sweet. I watched my parents as they gazed on the painting. It was clear that they were becoming accustomed to seeing me in a dress and as a girl.

Mrs. Smith came over with the triplets. She loved the painting too. She said that I was a good catch. I blushed. Miranda and I watched the triplets for a couple of hours while she took a nap. Mr. Murphy purchased a point and shoot camera and took photos of us all playing. I noticed he also took a photo of the painting Cat did.

I wrapped up the sketch into a box and brought it to school the next day. After school, Mom drove Dean and I to our ice dancing class. Before we laced up our skates, I handed the box to Dean.

“Here. I thought you might like something to remember me by when you move to Atlanta.”

Dean looked at the box for a moment. He was almost afraid to open it. But, after a moment he carefully opened the box. He carefully took the sketch out and looked at it, then at me. “I-It’s y-you. I-It is a-a v-very p-pretty s-sketch.”

After we had done our warm ups, we spent the next hour being drilled in the moves for our routine that we were working on. We would do a final routine for our instructor at the end of the semester and that would be our grade. We almost had it all done by the end of the class.

When Mrs. Pilsner came to pick us up, Dean showed her the sketch. She thought it was lovely and really appreciated having it. I realized that it was classical enough for them to have it in the their home without a girl figuring out it was prior girlfriend. But, at the same time it would remind him of good times in 7th grade.

Dean grew more somber and detached over the next few weeks. I wondered how he felt about having to move and us. I just knew that Doug and Mom were right. Enjoy the now and make some good memories. I kept trying harder and harder to enjoy the time we spent together. Nothing worked.

A week later, Dean came to pick me up for the school dance. He showed up looking very nice. He gave me a rose and I left it with my Daddy again. Something seemed out of sync that evening. He was pulling away from me the more we danced. I could tell. Our dances lacked the energy they had in the fall dance.

And then came our final ice dance class which was the final for our school credit too. It was technically fine. But, it lacked the energy of being our best performance.

Afterwards, we skated around the rink. “Dean, what is the matter?”

“I-I h-hate g-goodbyes. I-It’s n-not f-fair.” He couldn’t look me in the eyes.

“I know it is not fair. I don’t like saying goodbye either.” I tried to comfort him.

Dean started to cry. We stopped. He leaned on me and sobbed for a moment. He couldn’t speak. I looked up into his tear filled eyes and thought I spoke for him. “Dean. I love you and always will. Our time together has been awesome. But, not by our choice, it is time for you to move on. I think by now you know that your stutter is no longer an obstacle to having a good relationship. You are worth knowing and being with.” I was reaching for straws. Anything I could to reach him.

Dean tried to speak and say something. I could see he was frustrated with his inability to tell me how he felt. He was frustrated with his stutter. I found myself tearing up and crying. Yet, somehow, I knew I wasn’t crying with him. I wasn’t just saying goodbye to my partner. I knew that. He was my friend and he couldn’t tell me how he really felt. He was also my first love. His eyes were the only window into his pain that let me communicate with him. Finally, he reached into the costume that I had made for him and pulled out a note and handed it to me. He stopped and looked at me after he handed it to me. He bit his lip and skated off in a hurry leaving me alone on the ice to read his note.

Dear Samantha,

I cannot find the words to say how much I love you.

Thank you for making 7th grade the best year of my life. But, these last few weeks have been the hardest on me. Everyday I see you, I am reminded of what I am leaving and it hurts. I cannot bear the sight of you leaving me at the end everyday knowing that it really is going to happen soon. I need to end this pain. I can’t see you again. It is costing me too much. I love you, but I have to say goodbye once and for all. And I don’t know how.

Please forgive me, I love you,

Dean

I stood there on the ice and began to weep. My friend and my love was in pain and I was the source of that pain. I stood there for what felt like an eternity when I heard skates come up to me and I thought he had returned. I turned to talk to him. There, standing in front of me was Tommy. He was in his hockey shirt and jeans. He looked worried and concerned. He could see me crying. He looked down and saw the note clutched in my hand. He reached over and took it. He read it. I saw his eyes close and he silently nodded. He opened his eyes and then looked at my tears. He brushed one away and tried to smile, but couldn’t. I couldn’t say anything. My heart was breaking.

He quietly folded up the note and put it in his pocket. His expression was kind. He then motioned to me to follow him and skate with him without saying a word. I began skating with Tommy. I was still crying. It was awkward at first navigating the ice with tears that were getting cold, but little by little we began skating in unison around the rink. Soon, he gently took my hand and guided me on the ice. We casually skated together a bit longer around the rink as I grew accustomed to his lead. My tears subsided as he guided me around the rink. Then his left hand took my right hand and I went into a backward skate with my arm extended out from his. He spun around into a backward skate taking my waist with his right hand and we spun once again with his throwing me into a double axel which I landed with ease. I gently stopped on a backward t-stop and looked into his kind eyes.

My tears were abating quickly. I smiled at him while sniffling. I realized how well we worked together without words. Tommy was teaching me that he could speak to me through skating. He slowly skated towards me, stopped, and embraced me. I responded with a gentle embrace around his waist and buried my head in his shoulder enjoying the feeling of his strong arms around me. I lifted my right leg and put my toe pick on the ice leaning more of my weight into him. I am certain we looked a pretty odd pair with his baggy hockey shirt and his hockey skates contrasted by my ice dancing costume with its red top and wistful white skirt showing off my legs.

He leaned his head into mine and brought his mouth close to my ear and whispered. “It’s okay, I’m your partner now.”

And I was.

Copyright © 2017 by AuP reviner

[Author’s note: I have gotten a few positive comments on what Samantha is doing with law enforcement. I really appreciate them!!!

Like many writers, I use things that happen around me to create a story. Something bad in the news. Perhaps something that happened to a friend or a colleague. I am a fairly good observer and listener. Rarely in this story is it something that really happened to me.

However, such a rarity is the case with Bill’s Country Club story. It is my own story with a few minor changes. This is the first time I ever told this story and it happened to me over forty years ago. I faced a demon by putting it in this story.

I watched this video the other day and cried. Please watch it. She says what needs saying far better than I ever can with this story …

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hMVHz-1I1zY

AuP ]