A Winter of Discontent

Do clothes really make the man ... or woman? An invitation to a night on the town becomes an object lesson in what it means to be a friend.

 

A Winter of Discontent

by Randalynn

Copyright © 2010 Randalynn. All Rights Reserved.


“Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York;
And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.”
Richard III, Act 1 scene 1, lines 1-4


 

“I can’t believe Jeannie’s finally going clubbing with us again tonight,” Angie said, the excitement in her voice echoing in the lobby of the office building.

“I can’t believe Gene agreed to let her go.” Lisa looked over at the elevators, then back at her watch. “He’s been dead set against the idea for weeks, ever since the last time she went out with us.”

“Well, Gene’s just a stick in the mud,” Carla grinned, then did an impromptu dance step followed by a twirl. “Let Jeannie out to play, and watch out, girl! We are SO going to have fun tonight.”

“I bet Gene’s not so bad,” Angie watched as Carla’s smile became a frown. “You just don’t want to know him. In fact, you don’t seem to like men very much at all.”

“Oh, I like ‘em, honey,” Carla replied. “As long as they’re buying me drinks and keeping their hands off, I like ‘em just fine. Anyway, I don’t see you getting too close to Gene. What’s your problem?”

Angie sighed and didn’t reply. Sometimes she really didn’t like Carla at all.

As the last stragglers wandered out of the elevators and out into the street, the lobby grew silent.

“Jeannie sure takes a while to get ready,” Lisa said, looking at her watch again.

Carla nodded. “Yes, but she’s a real knockout when she’s finished. No matter what we’re up to, the guys always line up to show her a good time.”

“Not to mention the rest of us.” Lisa grinned. “I wish Jeannie could come out with us every night!”

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. All three women turned towards the elevator, happy smiles on their faces.

Then Gene York stepped out, his briefcase in one hand and a large suitcase in the other. He turned, hands full, and saw the trio waiting. He walked over to them, placed the suitcase carefully on the floor in front of him, and smiled.

"You wanted to go clubbing with Jeannie tonight," he said with a smile, then waved a hand at the suitcase on the lobby floor. "There she is. Have fun!"

"But ... but you're Jeannie!" Lisa seemed offended, as well as surprised.

"No, I’m not. I'm Gene." He pointed at the bag. "That's Jeannie." Then he tapped his head. "Well, a little bit of her is in here, but none of you seem to care about that part."

The women were stunned into silence. His smile faded a little bit, and Gene pushed the bag towards them with his foot. “Time’s a’wasting! Off you go, then!”

"But ... but you’re our friend!"

Gene shook his head. “Hardly. When I first joined the company, I tried to reach out and get to know people. But it was pretty clear no one wanted to know me, and getting rejected or ignored day after day got old really fast. After a while, I figured there was no percentage to chasing after folks, so I decided to keep mostly to myself. I did my job, and went home alone. I was lonely as hell, but it was what it was, and I didn’t see it changing any time soon.”

“Then I heard Lisa talking in the kitchen about how she thought no guy could ever pass as a convincing girl, and I thought, ‘Hey, this is a way to get them to finally notice me.’ I’d done it before as part of an acting class, in college, and I thought it could break the ice between us. It did ... up to a point. I went along with it for a while — until I realized what was really happening.”

“I figured out that Jeannie was your friend, not me. You made her feel welcome and cared for, even loved. Just us ‘girls,’ after all. But when I took off the dress and the make-up and went back to being Gene, everybody treated me like dirt. No smiles, no friendly words ... hell, everyone was so cold, it was like I was stuck in the middle of my own personal winter. It was worse than before. Almost like you blamed me for taking your friend away."

"What do you mean?” Lisa tooka step towards him, clearly confused. ‘We love you!"

Gene shook his head. "No, you don't. You could care less about me. You love her — the wig and the clothes and the attitude. So I brought her — well, minus the attitude. That part is mine, but I can’t seem to fit it in the bag with everything else. I hope that’s enough.”

The three women stared at the suitcase, unsure of what to do next. Gene sighed.

"Look, it’s simple. You only seem to want to be my friend if I pretend to be Jeannie. And you’ve made it pretty clear that you don’t think much of who I really am without all the trimmings. Since I happen to like me, and you love Jeannie, I guess she and I have come to a parting of the ways.” He grinned. “I hope you and she will be very happy together."

“She's a bit smaller than she used to be, without ... you know, me,” he continued, “but I don't think you'll mind. Trust me, since you're going to have to carry her from club to club, smaller and lighter is better. Just don't expect a lot of conversation. Without me around, Jeannie tends to be a bit ... shallow."

Carla stepped forward. “Wait! You ... you had fun. I know you did.”

Gene nodded. “Oh, yes, I did. I hated being lonely. It felt great to be a part of something again, to be wanted by somebody. I enjoyed it all.”

“So why stop?” Angie spoke softly, and he looked at her and tilted his head, just a little.

“Because it was a lie.” His voice was also soft, almost as if he was reluctant to finally put a stop to the closest thing he’d had to friendship in months. “I’m not Jeannie. I can never be her. And even if I could be, I wouldn’t. I’m not a woman inside, and I won’t pretend to be one just to chase being popular. I can’t. As Shakespeare once said, ‘To thine own self be true.’” He shrugged. “In the end, I guess that works for me. Even if my self goes home alone.”

There was a long silence, and finally Gene picked up his briefcase.

“You all have a good time tonight,” he said with just a hint of a smile in his voice. “Have a nice weekend, and I’ll see you on Monday.”

He moved past the three women to the revolving door, hesitating a moment to catch it at the right point, then went through it out to the sidewalk. He didn’t look back.

###

‘That went well,’ Gene thought as he walked away. ‘They’ve got Jeannie and I’ve got me. Still, I’m not looking forward to being alone again.’

“Hey ... Gene?”

He stopped and turned. It was Angie, standing halfway between him and the door to the office building. She fidgeted a bit, then spoke quickly.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry for the way we all treated you. It wasn’t right, and a part of me knew that.” Angie sighed. “I’ve had a lot of bad experiences with guys, and even though you seemed nice, you’re still ... well, still a guy. And I was afraid of getting too close to you, because I didn’t want to get hurt again. When you were Jeannie, I could be your friend without worrying about the guy thing at all. And when you were Gene, you reminded me that Jeannie wasn’t real — and I needed her to be real, so much.”

“And now?”

“Maybe I just realized that a guy who could walk a mile in a woman’s shoes without getting bent out of shape about it — well, he might not be the kind of guy who could hurt a woman the way I’d been hurt before. And what you did just now made me want to get to know you better. If it’s not too late to try.”

“What about Jeannie?”

“I’m starting to think the best part of her is standing in front of me now.” Angie looked into his eyes and gave him a small smile. “So ... are you free for dinner?”

He looked at her for a moment, then smiled back and nodded. “Strangely enough, there’s this huge opening in my social calendar. What do you like?”

“You choose,” she replied, stepping forward to stand beside him. “I’m thinking making choices is something you’re good at.”

They started walking together.

“I have my moments,” Gene said, his smile becoming a grin.

“I think maybe I do, too,” Angie replied with a grin of her own, and put her arm in his.

###

© 2010, all rights reserved. Posted with permission of the author.

Another story made me wonder how people who claim to love you in one guise could treat you so badly in another, all without seeing the inherent contradiction in their own behavior. Still, since so much of human nature remains a mystery, I decided to give my hero a chance at redefining himself while putting that particular conceit to rest ... after a gentle scolding and without supper. *grin* Hope you enjoyed it! -- Randalynn



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