A Mother's Love (fan-fiction) Volume 3.06 by **Sigh**, with assistance from Angharad Copyright© 2020 plaintivesigh All Rights Reserved.

SIX MONTHS LATER

“My goodness.”

I paused after donning my knickers to assess the appearance of my nearly nude form, first from the front, and then turning to see a profile. My DD-cup breasts hung in large teardrop shapes, a genetic gift from my well-endowed mother. My slim waist expanded to modest hips before tapering to lithe legs below. The addition of testosterone blockers and electrolysis to the usual hormone therapy had produced stunning results; indeed, my groin contained the only evidence that I’d been born male.

Amazing. I never was thought of as effeminate when I was Steve; yet as Stephanie, I am near-unreadable, I mused, and shook my head in mild wonderment at my good fortune. A glance at the clock reminded me to return to the task at hand. I went to apply makeup before putting on the rest of the outfit.

“Steffie! Aren’t you supposed to be off today? I thought you were headed to Manchester to spend time with your tots?”

“And a proper hello to you too, Susan,” I laughed. “Have no fear; I’m just here to drop off the itineraries I worked on last night at home, then I’m off to Mary’s mother’s house.”

“Well take care of yourself – mentally, emotionally, physically. I worry about you having to interact with your ex-wife – ”

“You mean my eventual ex,” I corrected. “It won’t be official for a while, I’m afraid.”

“Either way, she’s still an ex. She has a knack of stirring the pot with your emotions and even your self-esteem. When that happens, it affects us too.”

“Well, I promise to be on my ‘A’ game when I return to work on Monday.”

“Psh! I’m not worried about that,” Susan snorted. “Ever since you committed to living life exclusively as a woman six months ago, you’ve been more focused and productive than ever, as your top sales status shows. No – what I mean is that I, and all the rest of us here, care for you as a person. Don’t let yourself be abused or manipulated by a vengeful wife.”

I smiled even as my eyes surely betrayed scars of emotional pain. “I appreciate that. But know that I will suffer whatever I have to in order to be in my kid’s lives. I really must be off, now; thank you for the kind words, Susan.” With that, I left the office.

To all appearances, I was an attractive young woman in a sleeveless sundress and strappy sandals walking up to the front door of a small house in Manchester. I took a big breath in, then rang the doorbell. My brown shoulder-length hair was parted on the right side, partially obscuring the left eye as it fell across my face. Red lips and a faux pearl necklace framed a nervous smile.

Mary opened the door and greeted me with a grimace. “God. You’re not even trying to hide it anymore, are you? Not even dressing neutrally. Come in, I guess.”

I followed her inside to find our children, Bekka and Hugh, playing on the floor with their maternal grandmother, Andrea James. The older woman smiled. “Hello there! Children – your Auntie Stephanie is here!”

“Auntie Stephanie!” yelled Bekka as she ran to me and latched onto my upper thigh. Hugh screamed as he ran and hugged the opposite leg.

“Oh my darlings, I’ve missed you so much!” I cried. I squatted down and grabbed them – one in each arm – then stood up with an ‘uff!’ and carried them to the sofa where all three of us landed in a laughing, hugging, tickling heap.

After a good hour of play, I took a kitchen break to drink some coffee that Andrea had made. Mary gave me my instructions.

“I want Mum to have the weekend off from the kids. She’s been doing most of their care while I establish at my new job here, and it’s nearly exhausted her. So it’s a good thing you’re here, as Koz and I have had this cycle regatta planned for a few weeks. It would really disappoint him if I had to cancel.”

“Mary – who is this ‘Cause,’ and how long have you known him?”

“That’s Koz, K-O-Z. He’s my boyfriend; we met at a pub here two months ago.”

“What does he do for a living?”

“Is this the Spanish Inquisition? He does on-site car repair and odd jobs. What he prefers to do is motorcycle the country – preferably with me hanging on his back. Is this interrogation over? Let’s change the subject.”

“Okay. Why is Bekka calling me ‘Auntie’? Her name for me was Mum-Stephanie.”

“Because I’M her mum. I’m her only mum! You were her Dad, but clearly you’re not anymore. So you can be an auntie. That’s what I’ve told her to call you.”

“Mary … this time and distance from my kids … it’s killing me. Are you sure there’s no equitable way we can work this out? You could even still seek your divorce from me yet we could live in the same house. I’d even be open to you dating men; we could live as roommates. I just need to be around the kids; and I’d love to still be around you, too.”

“Then you should have stayed a man! That’s what I married – a man named Steve, and he was a pretty good one! But when I look at you I’m reminded of how you rejected that life – you rejected ME – and it all disgusts me. No, it’s over. I’m rebuilding what’s left of my life and moving on, and the kids with me – except for court-ordered visitation, of course.”

The doorbell rang. “Ah. That’s probably him,” smiled Mary. She left to the door, then re-entered the kitchen with a man in tow. This man wore a white T-shirt with a sleeveless denim jacket above his holey jeans and leather boots. Copious tattoos adorned his arms with various skulls and partially naked women. A handlebar moustache seemed to give him a permanent glower; his long hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, quite a contrast to the receding hairline he had on his front scalp.

Mary made the introduction. “Stephanie, this is Koz. Koz, this is my ex.”

Koz’s left eyebrow arched high. “You’re the bloke? Or, rather, used to be?” He shook his head, then turned to Mary. “You ready to blow this burg, babe?”

“Let me get my backpack,” she squeaked eagerly and ran off to her bedroom.

“Where are you two motoring to?” I asked Koz.

“Big biker meeting in the countryside. Spending one or two nights there. Partying and good times.” Koz walked to the refrigerator and procured a beer, which he chugged down quite briskly; he glanced back towards me. “Mary never mentioned how lush you are. Have you taken that bod for a test run with a high-octane stud? ‘Cause I am one, ya know.”

I was gobsmacked. “You know that your girlfriend – my wife – is in the next room? And that I haven’t had surgery? Yet you are flirting with me. You’re either pissed or a pillock.”

“Pfft. Your loss, lass.” Koz now was quaffing his second beer.

“Um, aren’t you about to go on a motorcycle trip? Should you be drinking?” I fretted.

“If I go too long without one, I get the shakes – see?” Koz held out his hand to reveal a mild tremor. “These are my first brews today. I’ll be fine after a couple more.” With that, he started to gulp down another.

I turned and hopped to Mary’s bedroom and knocked on the door, then went in.

“Mary. Did you know that Koz is on his third or fourth beer out of the fridge? And he smells like skunk. Riding with a cyclist who’s drunk and high on marijuana is a bad idea, don’t you think?”

“Koz will be fine. You’d be amazed how well he holds his liquor.”

“Please tell me he doesn’t interact with the kids; he doesn’t smoke pot around them, does he? And why date a guy like him? You can do better; you deserve better.”

Mary suddenly looked furious. “I’m damaged goods! I’m HIV positive, and even though I’m stable on meds, to most guys that’s a deal-breaker. I’m also in remission from cancer – not cured, in remission – meaning there’s a chance it will come back. That makes me a burden to any partner. I can do better? I DID have better – you, while you were still Steve! But no, now you’ve ‘found your true self’ as a woman. So don’t you dare lecture me when you’re the cause of this current situation!” She walked past me in a huff, out to the kitchen.

“Koz, I’m ready. Let’s leave this mess.”

I watched in silence as they mounted the cycle together and sped off.

After supper (I made spaghetti with meat sauce for all of them; Hugh still got baby food) I rested with my two tots in the living room.

“Mum-Stephanie – oops, I mean Auntie-Stephanie,” Bekka corrected herself.

“Love, you can call me Mum-Stephanie when it’s just us two here,” I cooed.

“Okay. Why haven’t you visited us more often? I miss you so much; so does Hugh.”

“Well, Mum-Mary and I are having some disagreements about who you should be with and when. But know that I can’t stand being away from you; I would see you every day if I was allowed to.”

“I’m sorry, Mummie. I’m bad sometimes. But I’m trying to be good.”

“Darling! What’s happened between us Mums is NOT your fault! It’s our fault. And … probably mostly mine.” I started to dab my eyes.

“Please stay here with us. Please don’t go away again.”

My heart was breaking into a million little pieces. Nothing – NOTHING – is worth hurting my children like this! If I have to go back to being a man forever, so be it – as long as I can be with them. I need to tell Mary –

Those thoughts were interrupted by a ring of the doorbell.

“It’s nearly nine in the evening. Who could this be?” wondered Andrea as she walked to the entryway. “Hello? Who is it?” she yelled through the door.

“Police, ma’am,” came the answer.

The door swiftly opened, and there were two Bobbies standing there. Both were in uniform, holding their hats in their hands. “Is this the current residence of Mary Jones?” the closest one asked.

“It is; I’m her mother. Whatever is the problem?”

I stood at the back of the entryway, watching the officers interact with my mother-in-law. Suddenly my stomach felt as if weighted down with twenty pounds of lead. “Oh no,” I whispered faintly.

“Ma’am – I regret to tell you some bad news. There’s been an accident …”

NOTICE TO READERS:

This is a fan-fiction story continuation of Alys's unfinished story, "A Mother's Love." As I have stated in my blog, Alys has given her permission for this work. This is not meant to alter or detract at all from her superb original story, merely to build upon it and achieve a resolution for these wonderful characters.

The setting of this story is Great Britain, and superstar Big Closet author Angharad graciously consented to help me retain a British "feel" for the narrative and dialogue. She is a godsend/lifesaver. I have now had the privilege of working with multiple stars here to bring my humble little indulgent tales to be published in BC. What a giving, loving community.

If you aren't familiar with Alys's story, I have typed a brief summary to set the stage (see the Brief Synopsis at the top). If you want to read Alys's part of this tale (all chapters are super quick reads and great stories!), then look into:
A Mother's Love - Prequel
A Mother's Love - Volume 1 (11 parts)
A Mother's Love - Volume 3 (2 parts)

To be continued tomorrow.

Thanks for reading! Hugz - **Sigh**