UNFINISHED BUSINESS PART 4
Thanks to Don for the great editing!

      Richard pulled into the school parking lot fifteen minutes before home-room.   He looked down and realized his hands were white knuckled on the steering wheel.   He was very close to putting the car in reverse and getting the hell out of there while he still could.   He took a deep breath, then popped a piece of gum in his mouth.   It was a poor substitute for the cigarette he really wanted, but it would have to do.  

      He looked in the mirror.   He reached up and messed with his hair for a second, then examined his eyebrows.   He looked right, he thought, like Richard.   Actually, with the new short hair cut, he looked more boyish than he had in years.   That thought made him laugh out loud, since he could feel the estrogen patch on his rump that was slowly feminizing him even more.   He turned off the car, grabbed his book bag and headed for the door.  

      He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Bradley's car parked in the senior parking area.   Richard's heart sank and he felt like he was going to burst into tears at the sight.   He had been able to keep it out of his head, for the most part, during Christmas break, but now it all came flooding back.   After a long moment, his feet finally started moving and he made it inside.  

      Richard stopped at his locker to put up his stuff.   He peered around at all the other boys as the hallways started getting crowded.   He was taking in how they were all acting.   They greeted one another with high fives, and those chest bumping hugs he had always thought were so silly.   Richard felt like an alien in their midst, and suddenly felt very exposed.   He took a deep breath then closed his locker and headed to home room.   A couple of guys said hi as he walked by, but like usual, Richard Wolfe was little more than a ghost in the hallways.

      School dragged by.   By lunch time Richard decided he was quite ready to go home.   Instead, he got some lunch and found a spot to sit and eat.   He sat by himself, like always, and started reading.   I used to like sitting alone, he thought.   No, he corrected, I didn't like sitting alone.   I just did it.   He looked up from his book and saw Bradley sitting down at his usual table with his soccer friends.   Bradley looked over at him.   Their eyes met for a moment.   Richard steeled himself, not changing expressions.   Bradley looked scared, terrified, as he sat down at the table.   Their eyes were locked on one another's for what seemed like eternity, but it was really only a few seconds.   Then, with a pained look on his face, Bradley turned to his friend and started talking.   Richard sighed, trying to remain calm, and looked back down at his book.   This is not going to be easy, he thought.

      Mercifully, the day finally ended.   Richard climbed in his truck and got into the line of cars waiting to get out of the parking lot.   He glanced over and saw Bradley and Mark walking out of the doors.   He could feel Bradley's eyes on him as he passed.   Richard did his best not to look, it was just too painful.   As soon as he got on the road, he dug in his book bag and pulled out his cigarettes.   On the way to school, he had picked up a pack of Camel Turkish Jade 100s.   He tore off the plastic and quickly lit one with his new black Bic lighter.   He took a long drag, letting the nicotine hit and calm down his frazzled nerves.   One day down, he thought.  

      Richard pulled into the parking lot of the Fine Grind.   He had told Emily he would meet her there after school.   She was waiting for him in their favorite corner table, still dressed in her school uniform.

      “Hello, Richard.” she said, standing up and giving him a bug hug.   “How was the first day back in hell?”   She asked, sitting back down at the table.   Richard smiled when he noticed the cup of coffee she'd bought for him.

      “It was hellish.” he said, shaking his head.   “It is going to be very hard.   Very hard.”

      Emily nodded.   “I'm sorry, hon.” she said.   “Well, one day down.”

      Richard laughed.   “I know.   That's exactly what I thought as I pulled out of the lot today.”

      They both laughed.   Richard was having a hard time not slipping into Ingrid's mannerisms.   He realized, for the first time, that his normal mannerisms were very feminine and that it was Richard, not Ingrid, that was a disguise.   He struggled with it, trying to keep his actions masculine and realized it was a losing battle.

      “What's wrong, Rich?” Emily said, snapping her new Zippo closed.   “Something's bugging you.”

      Richard laughed.   “I'm not very good at this being a boy thing, Emm.” He whispered, then picked up a cigarette of his own.   “I need to work on it so I can pull this off.”

      Emily laughed.   “I wasn't going to say anything...but you are right.”

      Richard shook his head.   “I don't really know how.” he said quietly.   “I'm trying, but it's just not natural for me.”

      They finished their coffee then gathered their things to leave.   Just as they were leaving they saw Bradley's truck pull into the parking lot, followed by Sheila's Jetta.   Richard swallowed hard.   He turned to Emily.   “Bye girl...I gotta go.” he said, then she took his hand for a second before he walked off, a look of understanding on her face.

      Richard glanced over at Bradley.   He had gotten out of his truck and was standing there talking to Sheila.   Bradley glanced over at him and for the second time today, their eyes met.   Bradley quickly looked down, then nodded and looked back at Sheila, smiling.   Richard climbed in his truck and started the engine.   He could see the two of them in his rear view mirror.   Sheila pulled a cigarette out of her purse, and Bradley produced his lighter and lit it for her.   Richard felt a tear roll down his cheek as he put the car in reverse and pulled out of the spot.  

      He choked back sobs for several blocks before the dam finally broke.   He pulled over and parked, then let the crying rack through his body.   He was unable to control it.   It was like a tsunami of tears, unstoppable.   He realized, somewhere in his subconscious, that it was the hormones intensifying his emotions.   It didn't matter.   These were real tears, and the pain was no less painful because of the chemical reasons.

      Finally, he cried himself out.   The tears stopped.   He felt drained.   Hurt.   He lit a cigarette and headed for home, still letting out an occasional sob as he drove.

      He let himself in and found that Margarite had made him a snack, some fruit and yogurt.   He left it in the fridge where he found it and headed up stairs.   Richard shed his school uniform, hanging it up neatly since he planned on wearing the same one again tomorrow.   He put on his khaki capri pants and a black tank top, then went over to the mirror.

      He took off the tortoise shell men's glasses and put them on the counter.   Richard popped in a pair of earrings and the Chanel glasses and was happy to see Ingrid staring back at him from the mirror.   I've missed you, he thought sadly.  

      Ingrid couldn't resist putting on a touch of pink lip gloss before heading back down stairs.   She ate her yogurt and fruit while she did her homework, then settled down on the couch to watch some television.   Right at five, Aunt Janet walked in the door.

      “Hello?” She called out, setting down her briefcase.

      “In here.” Ingrid yelled.   “Watching TV.”

      Janet stepped into the living room and smiled at Ingrid.   “Hello, Ingrid.   How was school?” Janet said, sitting down on the other end of the couch.

      “Horrid.” Ingrid said, making quite a face.   “About like I thought it would be.   But, no one said anything, or suspected anything unusual.” She shrugged.   “So, my cover held.”

      Janet laughed.   “Cover, huh?”   Janet shook her head.   “Well, I'm going to get dinner in the oven.   Have you done your homework?”

      Ingrid nodded.   “All done.” she said.

      Janet headed into the kitchen.   At Six, Fred came home.   He went into the kitchen first, then a few minutes later emerged into the living room.   “Well, hello, Miss Ingrid.” he said, sitting down in his chair.   “How was school?”

      She laughed.   “Like I told Aunt Janet...It was hellish.   How as your day?”

      He chuckled.   “Just another day at The Farm, hon.”

      Ingrid let him be for a few minutes, then turned to him.   “Uncle Fred...I need help.” she said.

      He raised an eyebrow.   “Help?   In what way?”  

      She gnawed on her lip.   “Trade-craft.” she said, smiling at him.   “I need help with my cover as Richard.”

      He laughed uproariously.   “Your cover as Richard?” he said, finally.

      “Yes.   That's what it is, right?” She said indignantly.

      He thought about it for a moment.   “I guess it is.   Ok, then...What kind of help do you need?” He asked, sounding quite puzzled.

      “I...” she started, realizing just how ludicrous the whole thing sounded.   “...I don't know how to act like a guy.” she said finally.

      Fred laughed again.   He nodded.   “Well...No, Ingrid.   You don't.”   he said, sounding rather serious.   “What do you want to do about it?”

      “I need lessons.   It didn't take anything for me to act like...well, to act like a girl.   But I can't figure out how to act like a guy.   It is very difficult for me.” she said finally.

      Fred shook his head.   “Ok.   We will work on your guy skills.” He took a sip from the whisky and soda he'd been holding.   “We can't do it with you dressed like that, thought...it wouldn't work.” he said finally.

      Ingrid giggled.   “I guess not.   I'll change after dinner, ok?” she said.

      He nodded.   “Good.   Now, be quiet and let an old man watch the news before dinner.” he said.

      Ingrid smiled and turned back to watch the news with her Uncle.

      After dinner, Ingrid rushed upstairs and changed clothes.   She put on a pair of guy's jeans and a polo shirt.   She was just about to walk out when she realized she was still wearing the glasses and her earrings.   She removed the overtly girlish items, put on her men's glasses and wiped off the lip gloss.   Richard was now staring back at her from the mirror. With a sigh, Richard headed down stairs.

      He stopped in the living room and waited for Uncle Fred to turn around.   Fred looked over his shoulder at Richard and smiled.   “Ok...That looks about right.” he said, standing up.   “It is funny.   I still see Ingrid, even when you are dressed as Richard.   But, most people wouldn't, I think.” he said, still appraising him.   “So, lets get started.   Grab your Jacket.” he said, picking up his own coat from the coat rack.  

      Richard grabbed his Raptor coat and followed Fred outside.   They walked across the back yard to the gazebo.   Fred sat down on the bench.   “First thing is posture..” he started.

      Richard listened closely to what Uncle Fred was telling him and did his best to mimic his actions.   They worked for a little while on his posture and gestures.   Fred seemed pleased and let his pleasure show in his smile.   “I think you are doing quite well, actually.   If you can remember what I've shown you, you should be ok in comportment.”   he sat back down and pulled a cigar out of his pocket.   “Got a light, Rich?”

      Richard dug in his coat pocket and pulled out the little black Bic.  
                                  

      “What happened to the Givenchy?” he said, sounding concerned.

      “I decided it was not a proper lighter for Richard.” Richard said, pulling out one of his Camels. “I also decided that these were somewhat more appropriate.”

      Fred nodded, then handed Richard the lighter.   “Good.   Props are important for a cover.” he said, then took a puff from his cigar.   “knowing how to use them is also very important.   You smoke like a girl, Rich.”

      Richard laughed.   “I know.” he said.

      Fred repositioned him, showed him how to stand, how to hold his cigarette.   He instructed him on how to take a drag and how to exhale.   It was frustrating for Richard, and all seemed very alien to him.

      “I'm worried...” Richard said, finally.   “...I'm worried that if I learn all this guy stuff that I won't be able to be myself again...as Ingrid, I mean.”

      Fred laughed.   “I doubt it.” he said, flicking his cigar.   “I'm going to let you in on something.   In the nineteen seventies, I was in deep cover in East Germany for almost three years.”   he leaned back against the bench.   “It was very difficult...” he said, trying to frame his thought.   “...I had a very difficult cover.   I 'was' Gerhard Shrolenger for all that time.”

      Richard was impressed.   He knew that Fred had been in the Clandestine Service, but really didn't know anything about what he'd done.   “Really?”   Richard said.

      “Yes.” Fred said, laughing.   “I had to do a lot of things that I never thought I would do...But, when it was over, I was able to return to being Fred.   There were a few scars, mental and physical, but I was able to return to being me afterwards.”   Fred smiled at Richard.   “You are lucky that you have a place where you can return and become...well, yourself again every day if you wish.   Thought it will be easier if you stay in cover as long as possible.”

      Richard thought about it for a second.   “I see your point.   It will be easier on me if I stay 'Richard' more during the week.   I always find it hard to go back to being Richard after a lot of...well, a lot of girl time, but it is always easy to go back to being Ingrid.”   he said with a laugh.

      Fred nodded.   “Right.   Ingrid is the real you, even though you created the persona.   Richard is the disguise now.”      Fred stood up.   “and, I think it's a serviceable disguise, even if it is a little thin right now.”   Fred laughed.

      Richard couldn't help but laugh, and was surprised that it was Ingrid's laugh that escaped his lips.   He lowered the pitch a little, which made Fred laugh harder.  

      “Very thin, actually.” he said, shaking his head.   “We'll work more on it.”

      The first week of school went much like the first day.   Quiet and Lonely.   The Richard identity was holding well, and with more practice, Richard actually felt like he was pulling it off without a hitch.   He wasn't getting bullied, and no one had put two and two together.   He stayed, mostly, in his Richard identity after school as well.   It was hard at first, but became easier after the first couple of days and Richard couldn't help but laugh to himself that as he was actually starting to transition, he was being more of a boy than he had for most of the last year.  

      This time was also giving him some perspective on things, though, which he thought was quite useful.   He realized that a lot of Ingrid's personality was artifice.   Built from the ground up to be a disguise.   Spending time without the artifice was helping Richard cope with the changes that were being wrought on his body, and the changes that had already happened in his mind.   It was like he was becoming whole again, not a fractured spirit.  

      School work was tough, he was in a lot of advanced classes, and it kept him busy.   He also decided that   he had been a little too sedentary recently and that he was going to do something about it, so he started running again.   It was tough getting back into the groove, though, and the first couple of days were a test of willpower just to make it a mile.   Richard also realized that he had been smoking way too much recently, and made a conscious effort to cut back.   It was a lot easier, since he was living with Fred and Janet all the time now, and only able to spend a little time at home.   He remembered a quote from Audrey Hepburn that her mother had told her to never smoke more than two cigarettes a day, and she wouldn't have any problems   Audrey wasn't able to keep her end of the bargain, but Ingrid and Richard would give it a shot.   Well, two a day if nothing is going on, Richard thought to himself.   He knew better than to think he'd be able to stick to his bargain while out partying, and was ok with that.

      That thursday afternoon, Richard was laying on the floor in the living room, reading an assignment when his phone rang.   “Hello, Emm.” he said.

      “Hi Rich! “ Emily purred.   “What's shakin?”

      “Homework.   Just got back from running.   How bout you?”   He said, rolling onto his back.

      “Uggghhh...Same here.      I have a ton of homework too...I'm ready for the weekend.” she said flatly.

      Richard laughed.   “I'm with you.” He said, rolling back over and propping his head on his hands.

      “What do you want to do this Friday?   I'm reserving the evening for my bestest friend.” She said in a silly sort of country sounding voice.

      “No plans yet, baby.” Richard said.   “Lets hook up tomorrow night around five at my house.   I need some girl time.”  

      “You got it.” Emily said.  

      They talked for a while, catching up on the week.   Emily and Mark had a date for Saturday night, which Richard was quite glad to hear, though it did bring a slight pang of heartbreak because it made him think of Bradley.

      Friday dragged on at school.   Richard could have sworn that Bradley was staring at him again in lunch, so he made a break for the courtyard just to clear his head.   He stepped out into the crisp, January afternoon then stood for a moment in the winter sunlight.   There was a hint of warmth, here in the sun, until a gust of wind came along and tore it away.   Richard looked around the courtyard.   There was one other kid sitting out here, perched on a bench playing with his cell phone, so Richard strolled over to another bench and sat down.   He pulled out a book and started reading, but couldn't keep his mind on it, so he closed it and put it back in his bag.   When he looked up, Bradley was coming out of the lunchroom.   He was alone.   Richard swallowed hard.  

      Bradley and Richard looked at one another for a moment.   Richard was frozen, unable to come up with the right reaction, so he gave him a little smile.

      “Hi.   Bradley.” Richard said, finally.

      Bradley looked down at his shoes, then walked over towards Richard.   “Hey...Rich.” He said, quietly.   “How...How've you been...since...Christmas.”

      Richard smiled.   “Fine...How was your break?” He asked.   Richard wanted nothing more than to jump into Bradley's arms, and it took every bit of willpower he had to not just do it.

      “Good.      I had a great time.” he said, looking into Richard's eyes.   “I...I like your new haircut.” He said.

      Richard reached up and touched it, then quickly put his hand down, that was such a girl reaction.   “Thanks...I..” He said, then smiled.   “I needed a change.”

      Bradley chuckled.   It was odd.   Richard could see the pain on his face.   He wanted to say something, but couldn't, that much was obvious.   Finally, Bradley sat down on the bench, not close to Richard, not even facing him.

      “I miss you.” Bradley whispered.   “I can't stop thinking about you.”

      The words actually stung.   They made Richard's heart swell and almost brought tears to his eyes.  

      “I miss you too.” Richard whispered back, not looking at him.  

      The doors to the school opened and Mark and Ryan came out, laughing loudly.   “Hey Brad!”

      Brad looked up, then without a word got up and joined his friends.   Richard closed his eyes to keep the tears from bursting out.

      That afternoon, Richard went straight home after school.   He dropped his keys on the counter and bounded up the stairs.   The maids had been in and gotten the place spotless again since he'd last been here.   The familiar smells of the suite made him feel at home.   The slight tinge of cigarette smoke and Prada perfume welcomed him.   He shed the boy's school uniform on the floor, then scooped it up and threw it on a chair as he made a bee line to the bathroom.  

      Richard ran a bath in the big Jacuzzi tub and studied himself in the mirror.      He wasn't sure, but he thought the hormones were starting to have an effect on him.   His skin, he'd noticed, was starting to feel softer and his nipples were absolutely killing him from rubbing against his undershirt.   He put his hands on his hips, trying to determine if they were filling out.   He decided that they weren't as he climbed in the bath.   He let his mind go blank as he soaked in the fragrant bath.   Richard ran a razor over his legs and underarms, then Ingrid got out of the bath.  

      It was funny, she thought, like flipping a switch.   He let the artifice fall, and just moved naturally for the first time in a week.   It felt good to let the boy be washed down the drain, if only for the weekend.   Ingrid wrapped herself in a towel and sat down at the vanity.   She dried her hair, blowing it out and teasing it into the spiky, pixie style the cut was actually designed for.   She got up and went into the bedroom.   It was cool in the house and her whole body erupted in goosebumps as she left the warmth of the bathroom.   She picked out a black Victoria's Secret Angel bra and a pair of black Boy shorts, then grabbed her backpack and took it all back in the bathroom.

      Ten minutes later, breastforms attached, bra and clean panties on, she felt like a new woman. She sat down on the chaise lounge and lit a cigarette.   It was the first one she'd had today, and the nicotine hit her like a hammer.   She laid back on the couch and enjoyed the sensation she so associated with being a woman.   She finished her cigarette then got up and selected an outfit.   She decided on a pair of Skinny jeans and a black, Prada scoop neck shirt.   Shoes, as usual were a tougher choice, but a pair of black Manolo pumps won out in the end.  

      She sat back down at the vanity and lit another cigarette, realizing the she was going to break her own rules about smoking today.   It was Friday and she needed a break, she thought, as she started brushing mineral powder on her cheeks.   She went wild with her make-up, going for a very dramatic look, that made her look well over her real age of sixteen.   Ingrid had gotten very good at make-up in the last year.   Then again, she had spent many blissful hours doing nothing but trying out different make-up techniques she'd gotten from the internet.   With the smoky eyes and deep burgundy lipstick, she could easily pass for twenty one, she thought as she admired her handiwork.   She topped her outfit off with several silver bangles, the tennis bracelet her Aunt Janet had given her, her favorite necklace, and a couple of rings.   She decided on a pair of silver, chandelier earrings that looked great and felt really cool as they jiggled against her neck.

      Ingrid was selecting some nail polish when her phone rang.   “Hello.” she said, immediately taking on the new, toned down German accent that was Ingrid's signature.

      “Hey girlfriend.” Emily said.   “We still on for tonight?”

      Ingrid grinned.   “You bet.   I'm almost ready.   You?” she said, selecting some burgundy nail polish and sitting down on the chaise.

      “Yep...Be there in fifteen minutes.” She said.

      “Good.   See you then.” Ingrid said, smiling ear to ear.   She painted her nails and waited for Emily to show up.   Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang.

      Ingrid opened the door, careful not to mess up her nails.   “Hello, darling.” Ingrid purred.

      “looking hot!” Emily said, taking her in.   Emily was dressed in a pair of very tight jeans and a cool, tight fitting black top, with her leather jacket and chunky heeled boots.   It gave her a sort of rockstar vibe.   Her hair was pulled up into a really cool, messy up-do that topped off the look perfectly.

      “You too girl!” Ingrid said, giving her a hug.   “Come on up.” she said, closing the door and leading her upstairs.

      “I like the hair.” Emily said, sitting down on the edge of the bed.   “It works for you...But, any hairstyle would work for you...you are very pretty, Ingrid.”

      Ingrid felt herself blush.   “Thanks...I like what you've done with yours, too.”

      Emily reached up and touched her hair.   “Yeah...I've been thinking of getting it cut.” she said sheepishly.

      Ingrid looked surprised.   “No.” she said, sitting down at the chase and scooping up her cigarettes.

      “Yeah...If you don't mind...I'd kind of like to steal the hairstyle you had before...the bob.   You mind?”   Emily said, taking Ingrid's lead and lighting a cigarette of her own.

      Ingrid thought for a moment, then smiled.   “That would look really good on you.” she said, finally.   “want to do it tonight?”

      Emily grinned.   “You don't waste any time, do you?” she said.

      Ingrid did a quick snap inhale, then shook her head.   “No use wasting time if you know what you want.” she said, speaking as she exhaled.  

      An hour later, Emily was in the chair where Ingrid had gotten her hair cut two weeks earlier.   Emily was right, it did look very sexy.   She had a gorgeous neck, which deserved to be seen, Ingrid told her later.

      The girls walked through the mall, cutting up and shopping for a while before heading out to get something to eat.   They headed out the main doors, both stopping out side to light cigarettes, still laughing and talking as the walked.   Ingrid looked up after putting her lighter away to see Sheila standing by one of the columns, talking on the phone taking a smoke break herself.

      She felt anger rise in side her.   The last time she'd seen her was when her and Bradley had been together, right after Christmas.   Ingrid could feel the jealously bubbling up inside.   Sheila looked up at them and smiled.   She got off the phone and walked over to meet them.

      “Hey, Emily.   Ingrid.   How are y'all doing tonight?” She asked.   “Are y'all going to Wilson's party?”

      Ingrid swallowed   hard.   She took a drag from her cigarette, trying to delay having to answer.

      “No...Girls night.” Emily said resolutely.   “We are going to hang out together.”

      Sheila smiled, and Ingrid could swear that smile was nothing but evil.   “Oh...Well, Mark's going to be there.   I was just on the phone with Brad and he said he was picking me up right after work.”

      Ingrid just kept silent.   She wasn't entirely sure she could talk to Sheila without saying something mean.   She knew Wilson was having a party.   His folks were out of town for the weekend and he was throwing   a major shindig in their absence.   Ingrid was also sure that Mark had asked Emily to go, and she'd said no to hang out with her.  

      “We are going...Just later.” Ingrid said finally, then took a last drag from her cigarette and ground it under her shoe.   “We are getting bite first.”

      Sheila put on a happy look.   “Good...Well...We'll see you there.” She bubbled.   “Ooh, are those Manolos”” she said, pointing at Ingrid's shoes.

      Ingrid smiled and nodded.   “Yes.   The spring collection.   Just got them.”   She felt a wave of satisfaction pass through her as she noted the jealousy in Sheila's eyes.

      “Nice.” Sheila said.   “Well...We'll see you at the party.” Sheila said, and headed inside.

      “We're going?” Emily said, as they started walking to the car.

      “Yes.   I figured Mark asked you, did he not?” Ingrid said.

      “Well, yeah. but...” Emily started.

      “Then we go...No big deal.   It will be fun.” Ingrid said.  

      Emily looked worried as they got into the car.   “But...You will be at a party with tons of guys from your school...what if they recognize you?” She said, finally.

      Ingrid laughed.   “They won't.”   She started the car.   “And...I won't be going without a date.” she said, a devilish gleam in her eyes.

      “You won't?” Emily said, sounding surprised.

      “You have a date...I should too.   Call Mark and tell him you are coming after all.”   Ingrid said.

      “Hello, Thomas.” Ingrid said, leaning against the counter at the bookstore.

      Thomas looked up at her.   A huge smile broke on his face.   “Well, hi there, Miss Wolfe.” he said.   “I haven't seen you since New Years.”  

      Ingrid smiled.   “I know...I've been very busy.” she said, giving him a big smile.  

      “Well...I'm glad to see you...I like the hair, by the way...Very cool.” he said, propping himself on his elbows.

      “Danke.” she said, grinning.   “So..You get off work at nine, right?”

      He nodded.   “I do.” He said.

      “So, you will escort me to a party.” she said, not asking, telling.

      “A party, huh?” He said.   “I guess I could.”   He said, grinning at her.  

      “Good.”   she said, feeling victorious. “I will give you ride?”

      He smiled and chuckled.   “I love it when you talk like that.” he said.

      Ingrid blushed.   “I meant in my car, silly boy.”

      “I know...I still love it when you talk like that.”   he said.   “You sounded like a villain from a James Bond movie.”

      She laughed.   “I guess I did.” Ingrid looked down at her feet for a second, then looked up at him from under her bangs.   “But it is a date?”

      Thomas grinned.   “It sounds like a date to me...despite my reservations.”  

      Ingrid looked confused.   “You have reservations somewhere?   I do not want to keep you from your plans.”   She said earnestly.

      Thomas laughed.   “No...reservations about going out with a girl who I could get in a lot of trouble with.   You are not eighteen yet, Ms. Wolfe.”   he said.

      “It is not against the law for you to date me, as long as we don't do anything illegal.”   Ingrid said.   She looked around to make sure no one was looking, then leaned in and kissed him quickly on the cheek.  

      Ingrid popped outside, smiling ear to ear.  

      “So?” Emily asked as Ingrid got in the car.  

      “I have a date for tonight.   We just have to kill a few minutes before he gets off work.” Ingrid said, feeling quite proud of herself.

      “Cool.   Mark is really stoked I'm getting to go with him.   He was really disappointed I couldn't go.   Thank you so much for agreeing to go!”   Emily said, then gave Ingrid a huge hug.

      “You're welcome.   I really didn't want to go...” Ingrid said.   She lit a cigarette and opened the window.   “Until I found out Sheila was going with Bradley.   Then...” she smiled.   “I had to.”

      Emily laughed.   “Awesome.” she was quiet for a second.   “Are you sure you want to go though?   There are a lot of guys from your school there.   Are you worried you'll get caught?”   Emily said.

      Ingrid shrugged.   “I doubt I will.   People say what they want to see.   And, like so many people have said already, I look way more like a girl than a guy anyway.   Fuck it...Who dares, wins.”   Ingrid said.

      Emily laughed.   “Well...No one can say you aren't brave.”

      The girls sat in the car, talking and laughing until right before nine, then decided to run inside and pick up some coffees for the road.   Thomas perked up when Ingrid and Emily came in.   Ingrid gave him a coy smile and headed back to the coffee bar.   By nine, they had their lattes and were waiting for him by the door.  

      “It will take me about ten minutes to get changed. “ he said, stopping by them on his way to lock the door.   “y'all wait in your car for me.   Ok?”

      Ingrid smiled and took a sip of her drink.   “Ok, Thomas.   We will see you in fifteen minutes.”

      A cold wind was blowing up and tiny snowflakes were dancing in the light of the streetlights as the girls climbed into Ingrid's Mercedes SUV.      The time flew by, and before they knew it, Thomas was walking up to the car.  

      “Hi ladies.” he said, as Ingrid rolled down the window.   “I see both of you got your hair cut.   Very nice, Emm.” he said, giving her a big grin.

      “Thank you Thomas.” Emily said, blushing and hiding behind her bangs.

      “So...I was thinking.   I should drive.” Thomas said.   “It would be the gentlemanly thing to do.   Should I follow you to your house, or bring you back here after the party?”

      Ingrid thought about it for a second.   It would be safer to go in his car.   Less chance of someone putting together Richard's SUV with Ingrid.   “That is a lovely idea, Thomas.” ingrid said.

      She rolled up her window and grabbed her stuff then got out.   It was getting cold, so she zipped up the puffer coat and put on her tight leather gloves.   Emily pulled her coat tight and buttoned it then the two of them accompanied Thomas to his 4x4.   He helped them both in and there was room for both girls in the front seat, with Ingrid in the middle an Emily in the passenger seat.

      Wilson lived in a very high end neighborhood, similar to Ingrid's, but these houses were even bigger and most had walls.   There was no parking in the driveway, since they were a little late to arrive, so they parked on the street.   They could hear the loud music as soon as they got on the grounds.   This was a huge party.  

      “Damn.” Thomas said, laughing.   “This is a massive party. There is no way he's not going to get busted for this.”

      “I know.   He doesn't care though.   Wilson's a senior and he wants to leave his mark.” Emily said.   “I don't think he cares if he's grounded till graduation.”

      The three of them were laughing when they got to the front door.   It was open and the party was raging inside.   They weaved through the crowd.   Emily asked a few people if they'd seen Mark and she was told he was out back.   ON the way through the dining room, they stopped and got beers from the keg, then proceeded outside.   There were a ton of people out on the back deck, but Mark spotted Emily and Ingrid right off.   He came running over and took Emily in his arms.

      “Wow.   I like the hair.” he said, then kissed her on the neck.   “Hi Ingrid.” he said, smiling at her as he held Emily close.   “I'm glad you could come.”

      “Thank you, Mark.   This is my date.   Thomas.” she said, gesturing to the tall, college guy she'd brought with her.

      The two shook hands.   Thomas was obviously much older, which seemed to impress Mark.

      Emily winked at Ingrid, then went off with Mark to be alone for a few minutes.

      “Emily is a trip.” Thomas said, then took a drink of his beer.   He made a face.   “Yeah, it's a high school party.” he said, laughing.

      Ingrid smacked him on the arm and gave him a mock scolding face, then took a drink of her beer.   She made a similar face.   “I take that back.   Yes.   I am in agreement.” She laughed.   “Why did we not bring some real alcohol to this party?”

      He laughed.   'I was only half expecting this anyway.” he said.   “Besides.   I can't drink much.   I have to drive us all home.   But you have however much you want.” he said.

      “I will not be having much, if this is the fare they are offering.” Ingrid said with a giggle.

      While they were talking, Thomas noticed that Ingrid looked cold, so he pulled her close to him and held her to share body warmth while they talked.   Ingrid sort of melted into him, enjoying the closeness, and the body heat.

      She reached in her purse and pulled out a cigarette, then dug around for her lighter.

      “I got it.” Thomas said, producing his zippo.

      Ingrid smiled at him, then put the cigarette to her glossy lips, holding it loosely between her leather gloved fingers.   “Danke.” she said, after he'd lit it.

      “Bitte.” he said, then lit his own.

      She took a drag from her cigarette, then exhaled up towards the stars.   She looked up at Thomas and smiled.

      He laughed. “Are you sure you're only sixteen?” he said, shaking his head.

      “I am sure.” she said, smiling.   “I will be seventeen in July.”

      “Damn.” he said, shaking his head.  

      Ingrid couldn't help but laugh.   She laid her head against his chest.   Then, Bradley and Sheila walked out onto the deck.   Neither of them saw Thomas and Ingrid, so they walked over to the other side of the deck.   Sheila swayed against Bradley, apparently already at least semi drunk.   She pulled a cigarette out of her purse and held it while Bradley lit it for her.   Ingrid was watching Bradley intently.   His body language said he was happy.   Sheila's body language said, other than drunk, that she was happy too.   She felt that tinge of jealousy again, but she knew it wasn't meant to be.   So, she turned to Thomas and put her arms around him.

      “Thank you for accompanying me.” she said, looking up into his eyes.   “I know a high school party wouldn't have been your first choice for a Friday night.”

      “You're welcome.” he said, smiling down at her.   “and anytime I get to go out with you, it is where I'd like to be, Ms. Wolfe.”

      She smiled at him then, gave got on her tiptoes and kissed him.   There lips touched for a moment, then her lips parted and they began kissing each other more earnestly.   They were lost in each other for a little while, exploring one another's mouths, holding each other tight.  

      “Ingrid?” She heard someone say.   Ingrid and Thomas broke their kiss and looked over at who was interrupting them.   It was Bradley.   Sheila was standing next to him, holding his hand and looking a little annoyed.

      “Hi, Bradley.” Ingrid purred.   She wiped her mouth and smiled.   “This is my date, Thomas.” She said, introducing them.

      “Hi.” Thomas said, extending a hand.   Bradley took it, but his eyes never left Ingrid.  

      “I'm Bradley.   This is my date, Sheila.” he said, shaking his eyes off Ingrid.   “I've never seen you at school...” he said to Thomas.

      “Oh...” Thomas said, smiling.   “I'm a senior at GW...Pre-Law.   I'm graduating in the fall and I'm going on to law school there.”

      Bradley nodded.   “Cool.” he didn't look like he thought it was cool.   “Ingrid...Can I talk to you for a second.   alone?” He said.

      Sheila looked really pissed off at that.   Ingrid looked up at Thomas.   “Sure.   Be right back, Thomas.” she said.   He nodded and she followed Bradley over out of earshot.

      “Yes, Bradley?” she asked quietly, then took a final drag of her cigarette before grinding it out under her shoe.

      He looked rather annoyed, or bothered by her being here.   “What are you doing here?   With...with some college guy?” HE said, sounding really irritated, but managing to keep it to a whisper.

      Ingrid cocked her head and put her hand on her hip.   “He is my date, Bradley.” she whispered.

      “But, what if he finds out?   I mean...” he started.

      “That is my business, Bradley.   I am not here to make trouble for you and Sheila.   I just came with Emm.” She said.

      “I know..” he said, then looked around.   “I just don't want you to have any trouble.”

      Ingrid smiled at him.   “That is very sweet.   Now.   You better get back to your date before she gets very angry with you.   We will leave.” Ingrid said.

      “You don't have to.” He said, sounding like he really didn't want her to.

      “It's ok.” Ingrid said, squeezing his arm.   “We will go so there is no chance of trouble.   Thomas isn't having much fun anyway.” She said, then winked at Thomas, who smiled at her.

      “Where did you meet this guy, anyway?” Bradley said, looking back at him.   “Isn't he a little old for you?”

      Ingrid laughed.   “I went out with him before you and I ever hooked up, Bradley.” she said, smiling at him.   “Thomas is great.   Now, bye.” she said, then kissed him on the cheek.   She regretted it as soon as she'd done it, but it was done.

      Ingrid walked back over and put her arms around Thomas.   She looked over at Sheila and smiled.   “It is cold out here, Thomas.   Lets go.” she said.

      He nodded.   “Are you sure?” He said.

      “Yes.   Lets find Emm.” She said, then the two of them headed into the house.   They looked around for a bit, then found Emm and Mark making out on one of the couches in the study.

      “Hey girl.” Emm said as they walked in.  

      Ingrid leaned in close and whispered, “We are getting out of here.   Can Mark get you home?” She said.

      Emily leaned over and asked Mark, who smiled and nodded.   “Sure.” He said, getting a twinkle in his eye.

      “Good.” Ingrid said, then kissed Emily on the lips.   “Be careful.”   Then Ingrid looked at Mark.   “Make sure she gets home at a decent hour.”

      “Yes mam.” Mark said, then laughed and put his arms around Emm.

      Thomas and Ingrid walked out to his truck, his arm around her the whole way.

      “So...” Ingrid said, smiling up at him.   “Would you like to come to my house...for a nightcap?”

      He looked at her.   She could tell he was warring with himself about the whole situation.   Finally he said.   “Ok.   For a nightcap.” Then he laughed.   “You know...I have never been asked to go anywhere for a nightcap, and never thought a sixteen year old girl would be the one to ask me that.” he said.   “It's like a line from the “Thinman” or something.”

      Ingrid laughed.   “I am older than my years, as they say.” Ingrid said.

      “Yes.” he said, opening the door for her.   “And born in the wrong time.”

      He drove her to her car, then followed her back to the house.   She parked in the garage, while he parked in the driveway.   Thomas walked up behind her in the garage, looking around.

      “Wow.   Nice place.” He said.   He looked at the other car in the garage, with the cover over it.   “What kind of car is that?”

      “That?” she looked over at the car.   She hadn't even looked at her mother's car in months.   She'd wanted to, but had never done it.   Technically, it was her car now, she guessed.   “That is a 1955 Mercedes Benz sport coupe.” she said, smiling at him.

      “Cool.” he said, running his hand on the cover.   “With the gullwing doors?”

      Ingrid nodded. “Yes.”

      “Holy shit.   I used to have a model of that when I was a kid.   Loved it.   Whose is it?” he asked, looking at her.

      “Mine.” she said, shrugging.   “Used to be my mother's.”

      “Awesome.   Why don't you drive it?” He asked.  

      “It's a summer car, Thomas.” She said.   “Doesn't like the winter.”

      He nodded.   “Yeah...Probably so.” he said, then followed her inside.

      “So...are your parent's out of town?” he asked, leaning against the bar.

      “No.” Ingrid said, taking off her gloves.   “My parents are both dead, Thomas.” she said quietly.

      “Oh.” he said, barely a whisper.   “So...Do you live here, like alone?”

      Ingrid shook her head, then shrugged out of her jacket and hung it up.   “No.   I live with my Aunt and Uncle most of the time.   But this is my house.” she said looking around.  

      He nodded.   “Cool.” he said, not sure of what to say.

      “A drink.” she said, then headed through the dining room.   She took him to her father's study and walked over to the liquor cabinet.  

      She opened it up and pulled out a bottle of Aberfeldy 21, Single malt scotch.   “This should do nicely.” she said, setting it on the bar. She poured a couple of fingers of scotch in their glasses then handed him one.   “Slainte'” she said, then took a sip.   It burned nice, but had a touch of carmel and licorice taste to it.   “Good.” she purred.

      Thomas took a sip of his and smiled.   “This is good stuff.” he said.   “I'm usually not a neat scotch kind of guy, but this is very good.   How did I know you would want your scotch neat?” he said to her, sitting down on the couch.

      “It is how it is supposed to be served, is it not?” she said, joining him on the couch.

      “So I've been told.” he said, looking at her.  

      She took another sip.   “It is cold in the house.   I will get the fireplace going.” she said, putting down her drink.

      “You want me to do it?” He said, standing up.

      “It is gas...No problem.” Ingrid said,then turned on the gas fireplace.   She sat down on the hearth and let the warmth of the gas fire embrace her.   Thomas got up after a minute or so and brought her drink to her then joined her next to the fire.

      “It is warm.” he said, smiling at her.

      “Yes.” she said, then leaned over and kissed him.   The taste of whisky and cigarettes mixed together in their mouths as they kissed.   Ingrid transitioned over and sat in his lap in front of the fire.   They kissed for a long time, enjoying getting to know one another better in this most intimate way.   Finally, Ingrid broke their kiss.  

      “I need a cigarette.” she said, laughing.   She stood up and retrieved her cigarettes and lighter, then sat back down with him in front of the fire.   She'd only just pulled out a cigarette when he produced his zippo.   “Thanks.” she said, letting him light it.

      Thomas patted the spot next to him so she cuddled up against him.   They didn't talk for a long time, then finally Ingrid looked over at him.   “Thank you Thomas.” she said.

      “What for?” he asked, looking surprised.

      “For being so kind to me.” she said, then gave him a kiss on the lips.   “Would you like one more drink?”

      He nodded and handed her the glass.   She got up and gave him another two fingers of scotch, then topped off her glass as well.   She smiled at him, then sashayed back over and handed him the glass.   They clinked glasses then drank.   Ingrid could feel the warmth of the scotch spreading through her.

      “So..You said you were graduating in the spring.” Thomas said.  

      Ingrid nodded, then curled her legs underneath her as she sat down next to him.   “I am.   A whole year early.”

      He smiled.   “Good for you.   Beauty and brains too.” he said.

      Ingrid waved off the compliment.   “Thanks.   I've worked really hard on it.   Lots of summer classes.” she said, making a blech face, which made them both laugh.

      “Are you going to college right off?” He asked, looking at her over the rim of   his glass.

      Ingrid shrugged.   “Next fall, yes.   I'm taking the summer off from school.”

      “Cool.   You know where you are going yet?” he asked.

      “I haven't decided yet.   I have several possibilities.   I've narrowed it down to a few but haven't decided.” she said, shrugging.

      “Well...I'll still be at GW.   Starting Law school next year.   I'm so ready to graduate, but that just means more school.” he said, shaking his head.

      “Never ending, dear.   School or work is what we have in our future.” she said, smiling at him.

      “I know.   Sad, huh?” he said, laughing.

      “So...Now, we are young.   We enjoy it.” she said, holding up her glass.   He toasted with her.  

      “It is getting late, Thomas.   If you stay here, we will end up doing something we regret.” She said to him with a little grin.

      “You are sure of that, are you?” he asked.

      “Oh, yes.   We would do illegal things.” she said, laughing.

      “Well...That sounds so inviting, but it sounds like you are showing me the door.” He said, standing up.

      “As much as I hate too.   I must.” she said, putting on a big pout.

      “You invited me for a nightcap, and a nightcap we had.   It was fun tonight, Ingrid.” he said, holding her close.   Ingrid got on her tiptoes and gave him a kiss.   She folded into his arms and they kissed for a long time at the door.  

      “Goodnight Ingrid.   It was fun.” he said.  

      “Drive safe.   Thanks you for a great night, Thomas.” she said, leaning against the door frame.

      He got in his car and pulled out, giving the horn a little honk at the bottom of the drive way.   Ingrid waved to him, then closed the door and fell back against the door-frame.  

      I wasn't kidding, she thought as she turned off the fire.   She wanted nothing more than to have sex with him right there in front of the fireplace, but she knew that was a bad idea.   He didn't know her secret, and she wasn't ready to tell him that.   She wasn't sure if she'd ever be ready to tell him, actually.   But as long as they didn't go any further than making out, she felt she would be pretty safe.   Ingrid sighed, then finished the last of her neat scotch, turned out the lights and headed upstairs.  

      Ingrid had quite a little buzz going on and was not even slightly tired.   She watched some television, or tried to at least.   Her thoughts kept going back to Thomas, and how badly she wanted him.   It must be the hormones, she thought, because she had always been able to turn off her desires really well before, but now she just felt wanton.   After a half an hour, she finally gave in and opened her toy box.   she took out the larger, lifelike dildo and the tube of lube and headed off to the bathroom.  

      Ingrid heard a song playing.   She liked that song, she thought.  

      “Shit!   Cellphone!”   Ingrid said, sitting up.   She crawled over and pulled her phone out of her purse then struggled with the touch screen on the iphone for a second.   “Hello?” she said finally.

      “Rich?” Someone said.   The voice was deep, with a hint of a Texas drawl.   It took her a second to figure out who it was.

      “Uncle Red?” She said finally.   Red wasn't really her Uncle, not like Uncle Fred, but he was good friends with her father, and her real Uncle.   She'd called him Uncle Red since she was a little boy, and her family always joked about the dynamic duo, Fred and Red.   That always brought a laugh.

      “None other.   How are you...You sound like you have a cold.” He said.

      “No...I just woke up.” she said, rubbing her eyes.   She glanced at the clock.   It was after ten.

      “Late night?” he said, laughing.  

      “Yeah.” she said dryly.  

      “Well..Get up and out.   I'm in town for a couple of days and I need to take you to lunch.” he said.   She could hear wind rushing by.   He was driving.

      “Where are you?” She asked.

      “On the fucking beltway.   I'll be at your house in twenty minutes.” He said.

      Shit, she thought.   There is no time for me to get ready.

      “Oh yeah...Rich.” He said.

      “yeah?” she said.

      “I talked to Fred.   Should I call you Ingrid, or Rich right now?” he asked

      Ingrid sighed.   “Ingrid.” she said quietly.

      “Cool.   See you in twenty, Ingrid.” he said.  

      She laughed.   “Ok...See you in twenty.” she said then hung up and swung into action.   Ingrid jumped out of bed.   She was glad she had taken the time to get her make-up off and brush her hair before bed.   She practically jumped into her jeans, then grabbed a tight, black baby-tee and shimmied into it.   Ingrid put on some quick make-up, just eyeliner, mascara and lip-gloss.   She put some mouse in her hair and spiked it up nice, then messed it up some to get that look just right.   She admired her work in the mirror as she put on a pair of large hoop earrings.  

      Ingrid put on her Prada tall boots, then grabbed her purse and headed down the stairs.   She'd just gotten downstairs when the doorbell rang. Ingrid glanced at her watch.   Twenty minutes exactly.   She shook her head, then opened the door.

      “You are nothing, if not prompt.” Ingrid said.   She didn't use the German accent, no need for it, but she sounded every bit the lady.

      “Good God, Ingrid.   You...” he shook his head.   “You look just like your mother.” he said, then gave her a big hug.

      “I'm so glad you aren't mad.” she said, her voice muffled a little by his shoulder.

      “Why would I be mad?” he said.   “Get your coat.” he said.  

      Ingrid squeezed him one last time, then rushed in and grabbed her TAD-gear Raptor hardshell.   She locked the door, then put on her sunglasses and smiled at him.   “Ready.” she said.

      They climbed in his bronco and soon were roaring off down the road.

      Ingrid leaned back in her seat, enjoying the familiar sensation of racing down the road with Uncle Red.      Ingrid looked over at Red.   He looked pretty much the same, she thought.   Same dark tan, same mustache.   He still looked a lot like a cowboy, she thought.   She laughed.

      “What?” he said, cocking his head.

      “Nothin.   You just look exactly the same.” she said.

      “Nah...Less hair, and more of what I have left is turning gray.” he said, giving her   a cockeyed smile.

      “Nope.   You look the same.” She said.   He still looked a lot like Sam Elliot, the actor, and the guy who did the beef commercials.

      “Well..” he said, then laughed.   “you look nothing like you did last time I saw you.   You look good though.   Very pretty.   Like your mom.” he said.

      Ingrid blushed.   For some reason it made her sad hearing that from Red.  

      “Thanks.” she said.   “I...I thought you would be upset with me.   You are such a...manly guy.   I thought you'd think I was some kind of fairy.”

      He scoffed.   “Now.   Why would you think that would make me some kind of asshole.” he said.

      Ingrid shrugged.   “ I dunno.   Its the kind of reaction I expect, I guess.” she said.

      “Well...You'll get that reaction a lot, girly, but not from me.   I've known you since you were little.   I wouldn't think any less of you no matter what you did.” He said, smiling.   “Anyway...YOu look natural like this.   You look...Happy.” he said.

      She smiled.   “I am happy, Uncle Red.” she said.   “For the first time...I think.”

      “Then how could I be against it?” He said.   “Fred and Janet told me all about what you've been going through, and I think it just proves something I've always thought about you.”

      “What's that?” she said

      “You're brave.   Bold.   Just like I always thought.” He said.

      Ingrid smiled and looked out the window.   She could see Red's reflection as he smiled at her and looked back at the road.

      The Bronco pulled into the parking lot of Betty Lou's Barbecue.   The truck crunched across the gravel and came to a stop in a parking space under a tree.  

      “I haven't been here in ages.” Ingrid said, smiling at him.

      “Not since the last time I brought you here, I bet.” He said.

      She hopped out of the car and followed him across the parking lot.   He was wearing a pair of jeans, cowboy boots, and a brown coat very similar to her TAD-gear.   The inside of Betty Lou's hadn't changed.   It was still dark and kinda squalid, but the food was great.

      “Hi y'all.” the lady behind the counter said.   “Sit wherever you like.”

      Red grinned at her, then led Ingrid to a seat in the back, next to the jukebox.   Led Zeppelin was playing on the Jukebox serenading the empty restaurant.      Red took the seat with his back against the wall and dropped his cell phone on the table.

      Ingrid dropped her purse on the bench and slid in.   “You got the good seat.” she said, smiling at him.   She took off her sunglasses and dropped them on the table.

      “Yep.” he said, drawing out the word.   “There's a reason I've lived this long.” he said, winking at her.

      Ingrid laughed.   The waitress showed up and took there order, a Miller High Life for Red and a cup of coffee for Ingrid.   Red leaned forward on his elbows.   Ingrid couldn't help but think he was sizing her up.

      “What?” she asked, shaking her head at him.

      He shook his head.   “It's pretty crazy...There are no tells to say you are a boy.” he said.

      Ingrid smiled and looked down at the scarred formica table.   “Well...there were mitigating factors.   You know all about that.” she said.

      His face darkened and he nodded.   “Yeah...that contributed.   But, Ingrid, I think you may have done this sooner or later anyway.   Its just too natural for you.”

      She shrugged.   “I guess.” she said.   She chewed on her lip for a second.   “Do you mind if I smoke?” she said.

      “What?” he asked, looking surprised.

      “I really need a cigarette.” She said, sounding exasperated.

      He laughed.   “Yeah, Fred mentioned that too.   Shit, go ahead.   I don't care, You're close enough to grown in my book.   I quit, myself, but hell I'm getting old.” he said.

      Ingrid shook her head.   “Thick as thieves you two are.” she said, pulling out   her cigarettes and her lighter.   She lit a cigarette and relished the feeling of the nicotine hitting her system.   She exhaled and sighed.  

      Red chuckled.   His beer showed up, along with Ingrid's coffee.   “That stuff will stunt your growth, you know?” he said.

      “I hope.   I'm tall enough.” she said, laughing.   She picked up her coffee and blew on it.   “It's weird how accepting you all have been...I frankly wasn't expecting it.” she said shaking her head.

      Red smiled.   “Well...We've seen a lot of the world.   More than most folks.   And...” he drew on his cigarette.   “There's another reason as well.   And you're old enough to know about it.”

      Ingrid cocked her head inquisitively, then took a drag from her cigarette.   “What?” she said, exhaling as she spoke.   She neatened up her cherry on the ashtray.

      He looked like he was gathering his thoughts, then took another drink of his beer.   “You remember Tola?” he said.   It sounded like he was having a little trouble saying it.

      Ingrid nodded.   Tola and Red had been married when she was a kid.   She didn't know much about it, But she knew Tola had been killed when she was eight.   Red had been pretty torn up about it.   Tola, Ingrid remembered, was a beautiful asian woman with long black hair, perfect skin, and an infectious laugh.   “Yeah, of course.   Your wife.” she said.

      “Well...She wasn't really my wife, Ingrid.   Tola was a lot like you.” he said.

      Ingrid was smart enough to put it together.   “No.” Ingrid said, not believing it. “No way!” she said.

      He chuckled and nodded.   “It's true.   She was lovely, and she was the love of my life.   We met when I was stationed in Thailand.   She wasn't a hooker, so don't even get that in your head.   She worked as a translator for foreign businessmen.   Now, she was no saint mind you, but she wasn't bad either.   She did what she had to.   Fred and I were there, part of a pretty major intelligence operation that I still can't talk about.   Anyway, I met her and was in love instantly.   I didn't know about Katoeys then...So imagine my surprise.” he laughed, shaking his head.

      “Katoey?” Ingrid said.

      “Ladyboys...Transsexuals.   IT's what they call them there.   It's a bit more common, and a bit more accepted there.” he said, then took a drink of his beer.  

      “She was great.   She worked for the company too.” he said.   The Company being the CIA.   “Not at first, but she was a great resource.   Eventually we were together and she came back to the states with me.   She went home to see her family...and was killed in a robbery.” he shook his head.   “I wasn't there to protect her.” he said.   His voice sounded thick with emotion.   He cleared his throat.   “Anyway.   Now you know the truth.   Fred and Janet Loved Tola.   Fred's my best friend...so You kind of had a lucky situation I guess.” he said, smiling at her.

      “Wow.” She said, feeling very sad for Red. “I had no idea, Red.   I'm sorry.” she said.

      “It's ok, honey.” he said.  

      The waitress came up just then and took their orders, refilled Ingrid's coffee and dropped off another beer for Red.  

      “Thanks, Darlin.” he said.   She smiled at him.

      “This your daughter?” The waitress, who's nametag read 'Rose', said.

      “Sure is honey.” Red said.   Ingrid didn't react except to smile.  

      “Well, she's just beautiful.   You must drive all the boys crazy.” Rose said, smiling.

      Ingrid shrugged.   “I get my share.' She said.

      “She's a heartbreaker.” Red said.

      Rose laughed.   “You get em for me girl.” She said, then headed off to turn in their order.

      Red was grinning at Ingrid and Ingrid couldn't' help but laugh.

      “Thanks Dad.” Ingrid said, exaggerating the word.

      He shrugged.   “I just like to fuck with people.” he said, smiling.

      Ingrid lit another cigarette, then took a moment to line up her lighter on top of her pack, a little OCD habit she had when she was thinking.

      “So...IS that why you asked me to lunch this morning.   To tell me about Tola?” She said.

      He nodded.   “That's one reason.   I wanted to see you while I was in town.   And, I had one other matter I wanted to discuss with you.” he said, then took a long drink from his beer.

      “What's that?” She said.

      “Fred told me what you were thinking of doing...for school I mean.” he said.

      “Yeah.   I was thinking about being a buyer.” She said, but didn't sound very excited about it.

      “Really?” He said, sounding incredulous.

      “What?” Ingrid said.

      “I think I have a better offer for you.” he said, smiling.

      “What's that?” she said, scoffing.

      “I think you should come work for the company.” he said.   The look on his face said he wasn't joking.

      “They wouldn't take me.” she said.

      “Why the hell would you say that?” he said.

      “Well...I'm a transsexual.” she whispered.  

      “So?” He said quietly.   “You are also a born operator.   You are sixteen years old...You already speak two languages, fluently.” he said.

      “One fluent, one semi fluent.” she said.  

      “I doubt that.   What does that mean, your French is accented?” he said.

      Ingrid blushed.   “Yeah.”

      “That don't mean you aren't fluent, girl.   It just means you need immersion.” he said.   “Anyway.   You are also a good shooter, you're smooth.   Apparently you pulled off leading a double life under the nose of one of the best field operatives I've ever worked with for a couple of months before he caught on to you.   That's smooth.”  

      Ingrid felt proud.   'He wasn't on to me for a few months?” She said.  

      “Nope.   He was in the dark.   That surprised me more than anything.   Apparently, you are also able to carry off being Richard fairly well...Could do better with some work I guess, but those are all assets, not liabilities.” he said.

      “I dunno.” She said, unsure of what to think.   “I would have to still go to college.” she said.

      “Damn right you would.” he said.   “And you are going to have to make good fucking grades too, if you want to get in.”

      Ingrid laughed.   “What if I want to do it.   What then?” She said.

      “Well...You go to school.   You make good grades.   You don't tell anyone what your career goals are.   No one outside your family needs to know that.   If you fuck up and tell some boyfriend, or girlfriend, whatever...It will ruin it for you.”   He said.

      Ingrid nodded.   She knew you weren't supposed to talk about working for the company.   “Ok.   Then what.” she said.

      “Then, you come and work for my team in special Projects.” he said.

      Ingrid raised an eyebrow.   “Your team?”  

      Rose showed up with their food.   The BBQ smelled great and they both dug in, letting the question hang for a while.   The BBQ was as good as she remembered, though she wasn't as hungry as she used to be so half her sandwich sat untouched.  

      “You not gonna eat that?” Red said, pointing to the sandwich.  

      Ingrid shook her head and took a sip of water.   “No.   Full.”   She said.

      He scooped up the half sandwich.   “I just got back from a very hot place where they don't eat pork.   This is like heaven right now.” he said wiping sauce from his chin.

      Ingrid laughed then pulled out a cigarette.   She held it up and raised her eyebrows.   Red nodded to her, so she went ahead and lit it.   Special Projects, she thought.   Sounds interesting.

      “I might do that, Red.” she said.

      He stopped eating and looked up at her.   “Good.” he said.   “That's what I was hoping for.”

      “What's the first step?” she asked, then took a drag from her cigarette.

      “First.   College.   If it were me, and I was as smart as you, I'd clep out of as much as possible before going to Georgetown.”   He said.

      “Really?” She said.

      “Yeah.   You can cut a lot of time off if you can get a lot of your basic classes out of the way.   With the AP credits you already have, plus the CLEPS, you could almost be a sophomore when you step through the doors.   That is if you are willing to work hard on it.” he said, putting down his sandwich.

      Ingrid thought about it.   She'd had visions of a fun summer with no cares, but this seemed like a good offer, and good advice.   “Ok.   What else do you suggest?” she said.

      “I...” he stopped and took a drink of his beer.   “I think you should get your GED and get out of that high school.” He said.

      “Really?” She said.   “I thought that would look bad for Georgetown and they wouldn't accept me.”

      He scoffed and waved the thought off.   “No, Geniuses like you do that all the time so they can go ahead and get into college.   Your Aunt can get it all arranged.   Besides, you have some extenuating circumstances.   Unless, you really want to go there for the rest of the year.” HE said, giving her a little grin.

      She shook her head.   “No.   I just didn't want to mess up my chances with college.” she said.

      “OK.      If you go ahead and test out, then you can start getting those CLEPS knocked out too.   If you work really hard, you can finish school by the time you are nineteen, Ingrid.” He said.

      She did the math in her head.   That would be a crazy course load.   Was it worth it? she thought.

      Red saw the indecision on her face.   “Look.   Is college your goal, or is what comes after college your goal?” He said.

      “After...For the most part.” she said, answering honestly.

      “I gotcha.   Hell, you've had a shitty high school experience, and you want to enjoy college.   So Enjoy it a bit, but finish in three years and you will be out by twenty.   Still a big improvement over the twenty two most people have to put up with.   Slow folks like me have to live with that, but you are way smarter.” he said, smiling.

      “You aren't slow, Red.   You graduated from the Naval Academy, just like Uncle Fred.” Ingrid said, giving him a stern look.

      “Yeah, they let us Marines in there too.” he said, grinning.   “You know what I mean.   YOU are a quick study Ingrid.   IN everything you do.   A born operator.   That's why I want you on my team.”  

      Ingrid felt proud.   She had always been the last person picked in ball games, but she knew all that was more of a popularity contest than anything, and Richard had never been popular.   When it came to individual sports, she had excelled.   Shooting.   Martial Arts.   Horseback Riding.   All those things she could do.  

      “Ok.   What else?” She said, letting all that roll around in her head for a minute.

      He wiped his mouth and put down his napkin.   “The next part might be the hardest for you, actually.” He said.

      Ingrid frowned.   “What?” She said.

      “I want you to put off the surgeries you've been contemplating.” he said.

      Her frown deepened.   She had been looking at eighteen as the time when she was going to get breast implants and get her lips done, just like she wanted.   “Why?” She asked.

      “Simple.   You will need to look like a guy when you try out for special Projects.   I'm not saying stop the hormones.   Don't.   You need those, I understand that.   I just mean you need to be able to put on the Richard Cover then.   I can't tell you much else but I can hint.   You need to be in tip top shape for it and there are no women on the team.   If you can't “Pass” as a guy for that, this whole plan won't work.   As soon as you are on the team, then you can get the breast augmentation and whatever.” he said.

      Ingrid didn't like the answer, but she could tell he was earnest and that this wasn't some plot.   She was quick though and immediately figured out what the deal was.   “This team is paramilitary.   There are no women allowed because of the nature of the missions.   But, technically, I'm male.   Its the ultimate technicality.   You get a woman on the team who can stand right there with the guys.” She said.

      Red leaned back and held up his beer.   “Yep.” he took a swig.   “See.   I told you you were smart.   Think about it.”

      She nodded.   “So...why did we come all the way out here to eat?   The BBQ is good, but damn it's a long way from Arlington.” she said.

      He laughed then stood up.   “Lets go.” he said. “We need to go see my friend Maynard about your Christmas Present.”

      Ingrid grinned.   “Maynard?   His name is Maynard?”   She said, laughing.   Red nodded.

      He paid cash, then opened the door for her.   A few minutes later, they were cruising down the highway in the Bronco.   Ingrid was thinking about the offer.   It would be weird, trying out for a Special Unit in the CIA as a Richard, then becoming Ingrid again right afterwards.   This made her think.

      “Wait.” she said.   “I was going to change my name legally to Ingrid Wolfe for college, so my transcripts would be correct.   If I go with your plan, I have to be Richard...I don't want that.” she said, getting suddenly very sad.

      “Nope.   Everyone in the program, during the tryouts is giving a number.   You don't have a name then, so no one would ever know your name is Ingrid.   I expected you to change your name legally.   Less of a hassle.” he said.

      Ingrid relaxed.   They pulled   off onto a gravel road that cut along a tree line.   The road was completely shaded and snow was still collected in the ditches.   They passed a sign that said “Federal Government Property.   No Unauthorized Personnel Allowed.”

      “Maynard's house?” Ingrid said, raising an eyebrow.

      “I never said house.” Red said, grinning.  

      They stopped at a gate house.   Red showed an ID and the guard pushed a button that rolled back the gate in the ten foot chain link fence.   Ingrid grinned back at him, giddy with anticipation.   They pulled up to a very ugly, metal building that looked like a garage.   It had seen better days.   They rolled to a stop and Red hopped out of the car.   Ingrid got out of the bronco and lit a cigarette.   She could see a row of very nice cars parked near the end of the building.   There was a VW Passat,   A couple of BMW's of various types, a few Mercedes, and a Mercedes SUV just like hers, only silver.

      A tall, obese man came out of the garage, still putting on a green, surplus parka.   He was balding, and not very attractive, but he had a huge grin on his jowly face.   “Red.   Glad you could make it.” he said, walking over and shaking his hand.   His accent was like a parody a comedian would use to make fun of people from Maine.   Hence the nickname.

      Ingrid took a drag off her cigarette, then gracefully flicked the ashes off to her side.   She looked up at the man and smiled.

      “This must be your lovely Niece you told me about.   Very nice to meet you.” he said, shaking her hand.

      “Thank you.” Ingrid said.   “Nice to meet you too.”

      “Merry Christmas Ingrid.   Maynard here is probably the best High Risk Executive Protection Driver around.   And he is going to teach you this afternoon.” Red said.

      Ingrid was astonished.   “Really?” she said, looking at Maynard, who was smiling and nodding, then back to Red.   She jumped into Red's arms and gave him a big hug.   “Awesome!” she said.

      A few minutes later, she was sitting behind the wheel of the Mercedes SUV, strapped into a four point racing harness and wearing a helmet.   This is the coolest thing I've ever done, she thought as she started the car.  

      Ingrid screeched around the track for a couple of hours, learning how to really drive fast.   She hadn't realized how much there was to learn about this kind of driving, but she soaked it up well.   After she'd gone through the lessons in the SUV, they moved to one of the BMW's for another wild ride.   She learned how to drift around corners and everything.   Ingrid thought it was almost better than sex.   Almost.

      When she finished up she gave Maynard a big hug in the parking lot.   “Thank you very much, that was so awesome!” She said, and kissed him on the cheek.

      The big guy actually blushed.   “Well thank you.   You are a great student and you handle pressure better than any young woman I've ever taught.   I look forward to working with you again in the future, Ingrid.” he said.

      Ingrid beamed at him.   She looked over at Red, who had a big, knowing smile on his face.   She gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek too.   “Thanks Red.” she said.

      “Don't mention it.” he said, opening her door.   “We gotta get you home.”

      One the drive back to Arlington, Ingrid was lost in thought.   She was still coming down from the adrenaline high of the driving course, and was thinking about the offer she'd gotten from Red.   They pulled up into her driveway, not saying a word to one another the whole drive.   They didn't have to.

      Ingrid turned and gave him a kiss on the cheek.  

      “Thanks again Red.” she said.   “That was the coolest present ever.”

      He nodded.   “I'm glad you had fun, darlin’.” he said and smiled at her from under his big mustache.

      “I'll think about what you said.   I'll call you about it soon.” she said.

      He just smiled.   “Good.   Tell Fred I'll see him monday.” he said.   She shut the door and headed in the house.  

      No one was home.   There was a note saying that Uncle Fred and Aunt Janet had gone to a party for one of her clients.   She read it then headed into the living room.   Just as she was sitting down on the couch, her phone rang.   She looked at the caller ID.      Thomas.

      “Hello, Thomas.” she purred, putting on the slight German accent.

      “Hi Ingrid.   I was just calling to see how you were doing.” he said.   Thomas sounded nervous.

      “Good.   I had a bit of a headache this morning, then went and spent the afternoon with my Uncle Red.   How are you?”   She said, flipping through the channels on TV.

      “Good.   I was wondering.   Would you like to go to a dance with me?   Its a formal....I mean, if you don't want to, I'd under...” he said.

      “I'd love to.” she said, interrupting him.   “When?”

      “End of the month?” he said, then rattled off a date and time.   He sounded so relieved

      “Sounds like a date.” she said.

      “Well...Speaking of dates.   Do you want to go out Friday night.   Dinner, maybe a movie?” he said.

      “Sure.   That sounds fun.   And we can talk about the formal then, so I can know what I need to wear.” she said.   Ingrid was smiling ear to ear.   She'd never been to a dance as   boy, and was really looking forward to the chance to go as a woman.  

      “See you Friday then, Ingrid.” he said.

      “See you then, Thomas.” she said.