The Secret - the Novella | BigCloset TopShelf

Erica discovers...

The Secret

by Andrea Lena DiMaggio

Discovery

The Kiernan home...Ardmore, Pennsylvania...

"I'm off to Gina's...be back on Sunday about four. Love you." Mark's wife Erica had just finished her makeup and secured her long brunette hair with a clip. She was going to visit her girlfriend for a girls’ getaway weekend. Mark climbed the steps from the basement to the kitchen and peered out the blinds. Erica's car pulled out of the driveway and sped down the street, headed toward the interstate.

Mark headed down the hallway past their bedroom and went into the study at the end of the hall. Walking up to the closet, he reached in and grabbed a box which lay beneath a pile of old computer parts and electronics. He paused for a moment, as if he had forgotten something. He went to the front door and locked it, making sure that the dead-bolt was also engaged.

Mark was spending the first weekend by himself in over six months. He was recovering from chemo, and was just now regaining his strength. The doctors promised nothing, but were optimistic about his recovery. He walked into the master bedroom and put the box on the bed. Erica had been at his side almost constantly since he became ill. She was a writer of children's books, and she was able to express her feelings by penning, Billy Bear is Sad: When Someone You Love is Sick. It was cathartic but also helped keep the bills at bay while Mark recovered. Mark played first violin in Philly, and was only just now beginning to play again.

Walking into the bathroom, he started the shower and looked at himself in the mirror. Never terribly big to begin with, he had lost a great deal of weight, which made his already small frame look ...effeminate. "Only benefit..." he thought to himself as he climbed into the shower.

While Mark was in the shower, the pulsating water was loud enough to mask the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. He did not hear Erica open the side door from the garage and enter. Something told her that Mark was troubled beyond his recovery, so she made the excuse of the visit with Gina, her best friend. She called Gina on her cell and begged off; returning home to try to discover just what was up with her husband. She walked into the kitchen and proceeded down the carpeted hallway and stopped at the master bedroom door. Hearing the shower, she nodded and said quietly to herself…'Perfect, this is better than I could hope for." With that, she opened the door to the guest bedroom and into the adjoining bathroom to hide.

Mark finished toweling off after the shower and walked back into the bedroom. He walked over to the bed and opened the box he had placed there. Inside were clothes....woman's clothes. He reached into the box and pulled out the contents slowly and nervously.
Meanwhile, Erica sat quietly on the edge of the bathtub waiting for her moment...She didn't really know what to expect, but she was going to get to the bottom of Mark's behavior. Since his treatment had finished, he had started to display an almost sad affect, which he took pains to hide whenever he was around Erica. While she understood that cancer survivors might occasionally have bouts with depression, Mark seemed like nothing was right, even though he beat his disease and was getting healthier by the day.

Back in the bedroom, a slim figure padded quietly on the carpet and stood before the mirror hanging on the back of the bedroom door. An attractive woman in her late twenties peered back. She wore a simple black sleeveless dress, which was accompanied by a medium width aqua belt. The woman wore dark hose, and medium heel shoes. Her makeup was simple and modest, and she would have looked all the world for a young professional woman, save for the very short dark red hair which adorned her head. The woman in the mirror tried to smile, but she pursed her lips and expelled a short, frustrated sigh. Tears came to her eyes as she looked at her image.

Erica heard the bedroom door open and footsteps padded quietly down the hall to the other bedroom, where Erica sat waiting. Whatever it was Mark was hiding, she knew that somehow he felt unable to talk about it, despite the ordeal they both endured with his disease. Now that he was getting better, it was time to confront him, and she was determined to show support, no matter what the day held.

The woman walked slowly down the hall and entered the bedroom, feeling uncomfortable in the couple's bedroom and wanting to respect their privacy and intimacy. Opening the door gingerly, she entered the room and sat down at the desk by the window, which was open but shaded by closed blinds. She picked up a pen and grabbed a piece of stationery from the desk drawer.

"Dear Erica...” she began to write, but she was interrupted when the bathroom door opened.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my house." Even as the words left her lips, Erica already knew the answer. "Mark....is that you? Mark...what are you doing in...Mark?" Erica's words were firm, but quickly changed to a soft, almost understanding tone. "Is this what has had you so quiet and secretive lately?"

The woman at the desk looked up, her eyes filled with tears. In a voice similar to her husbands, yet soft and shy, the woman replied. "Erica...I am so sorry. Please forgive me. I'll change immediately. Please don't leave me."

By now, soft tears gave way to sobbing. Erica put her hand on her husband's shoulder and said quietly,

"We need to talk, obviously, but I don't want you to run away. We'll face this together. I'm going to go make some tea. Join me when you're ready to talk, but don't change. "
With that, Erica leaned over and kissed Mark on the cheek and walked out of the room, her hand brushing his shoulder.

Erica was sitting on the couch in the living room, sipping her tea. She had her Bible in her lap, and she was quietly praying to herself. She looked up and saw the figure of her husband standing in the archway leading from the hallway. She smiled and patted the cushion next to her on the couch. Slowly, Mark walked over to the couch.

He sat on the opposite end and looked away. While somewhat composed, tears still filled his eyes. Erica leaned over and patted his hand gently and then patted the cushion next to her once again.

"I don't know much about this, but I know enough to recognize that this just didn't start yesterday. How long have you been dressing like this? What caused this to happen? Did someone do this to you? She stopped herself and smiled. "Don't 'Splain...Just sum up," she said and laughed quietly. Their favorite movie was 'Princess Bride" and the line gave Mark permission to talk as best he could. After all, this was likely a life-long secret and it would be difficult at best to deal with this all at once.

"Erica...please understand. I am so sorry and I didn't mean to hurt you....I ..."

Erica interrupted him by placing a finger over his mouth to 'shush' him. "I am a little hurt that you didn't trust me enough to share this with me. I've loved you since we were kids, and nothing could be so bad as to keep me from loving you. Know that and plan on no more secrets." She glared at him but her face quickly softened and her eyes began to tear up.

"Please trust me, my love," she said as she took a tissue and dabbed her eyes. "Please trust our love. I've been sitting here praying since I came out, and I came to the conclusion that our vows are sacred, and that God wants me to love you no matter what. Now then, what's this secret you've been hiding? You're not related to the president...or maybe you secretly embezzled funds from your last job. Come on, let's hear it." By now her tears had subsided and she was being playful with him as a way of relaxing the situation.

"I've been dressing since my sister died," he said as he reached over and grabbed the tissues. Erica noticed that his voice remained soft and withdrawn, and his gestures were relaxed and almost effeminate. She grabbed his wrist and began stroking his hand softly.

"It's ok, sweetheart. I know how close you were to your sis growing up, and even though she was my girlfriend first, I can't imagine the loss you and your mom felt when she died." Cancer was no stranger to the family. Mark's dad had passed when he was in middle school. His mom had a bout with breast cancer, and while it was touch and go for some time, his mom was alive and healthy. His sis, on the other hand, was not as fortunate. She was diagnosed with Acute Myloid Leukemia, and died just before her fifteenth birthday.

"I didn't set out to do anything other than honor my sis. When I went through her things after the funeral, I was overwhelmed with such love and pride for her. Mom was struggling at that point, and she had only been healthy for a few months when Maura died. I went through Maura's things, expecting to give away most of it. Especially her clothing. When I cleaned her closet, her scent filled the room. I began sleeping with her nightgown under my pillow. One day, when Mom was at Grandma's, I went into Maura's room. Something inside me urged me to go through her dresser. She had left letters to Mom and me, and had never got the chance to give them to us.

I left Mom's letter for her to read, but the letter Maura wrote was filled with such love and compassion that I longed for her to be there. She was such a fun and loving person, and she was the most understanding person I had ever known. I decided I wanted to be just like her. "

Erica was nodding while continuing to stroke her husband's hand. "Strange," she thought, "but it’s like I'm consoling a girlfriend rather than my husband. She looks like any of my girlfriends, and she acts like them as well."

"It's ok, sweetie, go ahead," she said softly.

"I never set out to...well, you know. I didn't want to replace her. God knows, no one could, present company excepted.“ With that, Erica smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

“It wasn't as if I replaced her. It was if I became...well, being twins and all, it almost seemed appropriate that Maura gain a sister. That Mom would have another daughter even if she didn't know."

"He doesn't know," Erica thought. She thought back to a conversation that she and Mom had had right after Mark was diagnosed. Mom felt that Mark had somehow changed after Maura died, and that he seemed to try to 'make up' for their loss by being more like his sis. What Mark didn't know is that his mom suspected something else was going on, but could never put a finger on it.

"I'm sorry, honey, but I just got lost in thought, go on, please."

"From then on up until we got engaged, I dressed in her clothing on occasion. Living at home, I had access to her room, and I kept some of her clothing when I donated her stuff."

"Until we got engaged...what made you stop?" Erica asked.

"I knew I couldn't continue without you finding out, and I was very afraid you'd leave if I told you. I know what you just said, and I am sorry I did not respect our relationship enough to tell you. Please forgive me."

"I already have, Mark. I know your mom was getting over her relapse, and I just can't even imagine how afraid you were about being alone. You know you'll never be alone...you do know that?" She patted his hand and looked into his eyes.

Mark looked away, feeling all the more ashamed. "I...know that now."
Erica could see that he was struggling, and as uncomfortable it was for her, she could only imagine how difficult it was for him.

"I've got an idea. Let's finish our tea and I'll order out...Chinese OK?"

"I suppose." With that, Mark got up and started walking toward the hallway.

"Where are you going?” Erica asked.

"I don't know...I guess I'll go change now."

"No, please, you don't have to. In fact, I'd rather you didn't just yet." Erica got up from the couch, walked over and hugged him tightly, kissing him on the cheek. She pulled down his head and kissed his forehead, like Galadriel would.

"I want to know all about you, and that means getting to know your sister as well. After all, if she's going to live with us, I need to know what to expect with another woman in the house." She laughed softly and kissed him once again on his cheek, hugging him again as well.

"What's her name?"

Mark looked at her, puzzled.

"Silly, what's your sister's name?"

"Maired....it's Maired..."

"Like the fiddler from Celtic Woman?"

"Yes," Mark answered.

"Sure and that's a fine name," she said, speaking with a fair rendition of a brogue.

"I know it's probably too soon, but you owe someone else an explanation. Your mom loves you very much, and you owe it to her to show her how her child turned out. She is proud...she would be proud of...both of you.

Maybe you and I can go over and see her next weekend. I'm sure she'd like to meet Maired."
Erica kissed her new-found friend on the cheek once again. Grabbing Maired by the shoulders, Erica turned her so she was again facing the hallway.

"Well, Maired, why don't you go freshen up and I'll call for take-out. Do you have similar tastes as your brother? Yes? Then Chicken and Sautéed String Beans it is. Put on a pair of my pajamas...it's a relaxing evening in for the Kiernan girls. I'll change when you're done. We can watch a DVD if you want."

"Can we watch....'Princess Bride?"

Erica smiled and laughed...."Ah yes...Wuv...Twu Luv..."

Sharing

It had been only two days since Erica discovered the secret. After months of coping with Mark's illness, she felt ill-prepared for what she had learned.

"What can I do to help him," she questioned herself, only half-expecting an answer. Her help came from an unexpected source. Apart from Mark, her girlfriend Gina was the closest she had to a sister. In fact, when they were in middle school, they were inseparable, along with Mark's sister Maura. They were the distaff version of the Three Musketeers, sans the muskets, the pantaloons and the devotion to the king. Gina had been a rock for Erica all during Mark's diagnosis and treatment, and it was natural to assume that she would be there for Erica during this crisis as well.

"She's gonna flip when she hears this, but if anyone could understand, it would be Gina." as she picked up the phone. Erica wasn't sure if Gina was read up on the subject, but she was a life-long guidance counselor at the same middle school they all attended when they were kids. She had probably seen and heard it all. Erica made the decision to call her.

"May I speak with Ms. Sorrento?" Erica asked the receptionist.

"Why sure...she's probably in her office right now."

"Gina Sorrento speaking."

"Gina...I've got a favor to ask. Can you meet me for lunch tomorrow? Applebee's in Beverly Hills?" They had always had a good laugh at how Erica, the one-time high school drama queen had settled in Beverly Hills...PA!"

"Sure, sweetie, what's up?"

"I think I'd rather talk about it in person, but don't worry. Everything is OK, but I need your advice about something, and it’s too involved for the phone."

"Heck, I'll take off, and we can spend the day together. Missed you Saturday."

"Something came up…that’s what I want to talk about? OK, brunch at Applebee’s at 10 it is."

Applebees Restaurant…Beverly Hills, Pennsylvania…

Gina was sitting on the bench outside the restaurant when Erica pulled into the parking lot. She stood and walked to Erica's car. She grabbed Erica and drew her into a long hug, saying,

"You rarely call out of the blue unless something is very important. Is everything ok with Mark? It's not back, is it?"

"No, nothing like that...we're fine," said as she looked away.

"Anytime anyone says, 'we're fine,' they probably aren't." She rubbed Erica's shoulder and smiled.

"Let's go inside, and I'll give you the lowdown, but I promise, even with your experience, you've probably never heard anything like this before."

Meanwhile…at the Kiernan home…

Mark sat at the piano in the den and tried to play, but the music just didn't happen. He hadn't the energy to play his violin in months, and the piano required less effort. Music had always been a part of his family. His mother taught piano to college kids to make ends meet after work. Maura had played the cello...

"God, she was good," he thought, as he picked at the keyboard.

"And what good am I? I can't work, I can't do much around the house, and I can't...." Mark suffered more than fatigue from the treatment, and while the course was complete, its effects lingered.

"I'm not even a man..."

He put his chin on his hands and sighed.

Applebees…

"So that's it? This is what you got me worked up for?" Gina said in mock indignation.

"Honey, if anyone knows how to handle it, it's you. You're the most caring, sensitive person I know. You'll get through this...we'll get through this together.

"You can't let Mark know I told you...he would be devastated. He's holding up well, considering the last few months, but I'm not sure he could handle anyone besides me knowing...well...you know."

"Don't worry, I won't tell. I trust you will do exactly the right thing at the right time, with God's help...But promise me one thing."

Sure, Gina, anything."

"When the time comes, I want you to introduce me to Maired," Gina said with a slight giggle.

Exploring

The Kiernan home….

Apart from that Saturday, Mark had not considered dressing. Even though Erica had accepted Maired, Mark still felt overwhelmed by guilt and shame. He felt as if he had betrayed her, and he felt he couldn't continue. His devotion to his sister was in vain, since his actions brought nothing but trouble. And what would his mother think. She had been through enough, first as a young widow, and then with her own illness. No. No more. Tears filled his eyes as his conflict threatened to tear him apart.

"Mark, honey, I'm home," Erica called as she entered the kitchen, her arms filled with groceries.

"Gina sends her love. She wanted to get together for lunch since we missed each other last weekend." Erica wanted to hit herself as soon as she heard the words escape her mouth. "Great...I don't want him feeling bad, as if we don't have enough to deal with," she thought as she put the bags down on the kitchen table. Recovering quickly, she said, "She's stuck on the summary of her doctoral thesis, and she wanted the Maestro of Children's Books to help out."

In truth, Gina had already submitted her work, and had heard that her thesis earned her the doctorate...her second.

"I'm here in the den," Mark said. He got up from the piano and walked into the kitchen. Kissing Erica on the cheek, he started putting the groceries away.

"I got some great Salmon on sale...why don't you put some potatoes in the oven.
I'll just be a sec," she said and walked down the hall. She was beginning to tear up, and she didn't want Mark seeing her. She knew he had been trying to play, and she also knew just by looking at his hang-dog affect that he hadn't any success. And that was it...he was always trying to succeed...looking for acceptance. She planned to talk with him after dinner, but tonight just didn't seem right. Better stick with the innocuous, and watch a video or something on TV.

The following weekend, Erica had convinced Mark to go out. He had been back to driving for several weeks, and a trip to the library would likely be ok. Mark was an avid reader of several genres, and would be gone for several hours.

"No time like the present," she gulped as she headed to the bedroom. Walking to the closet, she pulled out a dress from her side. It was dark grey, with a full skirt and long sleeves. She walked over and draped it carefully on the bed. Walking to her dresser, she pulled out a few items, which she also placed on the bed. Leaving the bedroom, she walked to the living room and sat down on the sofa, Bible in hand, and began to pray softly.

"Hi, hon," Mark said as he walked into the house. The trip to the library seemed to rejuvenate him.

"They had the latest Grafton, as well as the new Dirk Pitt novel." He smiled as he displayed the several books he had checked out. I even got the new 'Bones' edition and that Giada cookbook you were looking for. Even something as small as that was likely to raise his spirit; if only briefly for a little bit.

"Come sit down, I just brewed some coffee and there's still Danish left, if you want it."
"Ok on the coffee, but I'm not hungry...thanks anyway."

"More for me, although I really shouldn't." In truth, Erica could probably have eaten several without worry. She hadn't gained hardly a pound since her teens.
Coming back into the living room, she placed two mugs of coffee on the table, along with her Danish.

"Honey...we need to talk."

Mark winced at the words, and quickly grabbed his coffee, which he held up to his face, as if to hide.

"We've danced around this for a week now, and my legs are getting tired. Remember what I said? It still goes. I'm not a particularly demanding woman, but you know I get what I want, right? Well, as much as I love you, and despite what you've been through, I think you owe me. Big time, buster!" Her tone was serious, but her smile belied her intent.

"The Kiernan girls NEED to spend some time together," she said as she grabbed her husband's hand. Standing up, she pulled him along as she walked down the hallway and into the bedroom.

"I'll be in the kitchen cooking supper. Please be careful with my things, MAIRED," she said as she pointed to the bed. She kissed him on the cheek, walked back down the hallway. Stopping halfway, she called back

"Oh, and wear the green belt, it goes with your hair."

Mark sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the floor. Erica was waiting in the living room, and Mark was unable to move from fear. He knew that she loved him, but nothing could budge him. He had anticipated that telling her his secret would be difficult, nothing could have prepared him for what he felt. A soft knock outside the doorway interrupted his thoughts.

"Sweetie, mind if I come in?" he heard Erika ask softly.

"I...I suppose...ok," he replied with more than a little reluctance. Erica entered the room and walked to the bed. He turned away, and once again focused his attention to the floor.

"Honey, I just wanted to let you know that dinner's ready, no hurry. Just heat-ups. I figured we'd save the salmon for another night that isn't so stressful. The knot in his stomach pushed all thought of eating away.

"I...I'm not hungry...why don't you go ahead."

"You've got to come out this room sooner or later, so it might as well be now"

With that, Erica reached down and with one quick move had pulled Mark to his feet. She paused and looked him over. In a moment, her husband had left the room, and in his place stood a very nervous woman. She was clad in Erica's gray dress, and she had taken Erica's advice and was wearing the green belt.

The hem of the full dress fell to just below her knees. She was wearing neutral hose, and she wore simple black low heeled shoes.

"I'm hungry, and I'm going to have dinner now. I need company, and YOU need to talk, Maired."

A soft voice emitted from the girl, who said, "I don't know if I can." Her tone was shy, and she looked away yet again.

"Sweetheart...Maired," Erica once again uttered the woman's name, becoming more comfortable each time. "It's ok...just come out and sit with me. You won't even have to talk if you don't want to." She grabbed the woman's arm, patted her hand, and proceeded to walk out of the room, her reluctant charge following behind.

"There, that wasn't so hard, Erica said, as she rose from the table to put her plate in the sink. She walked to the stove, and put on the kettle for tea.

"I promised you wouldn't have to talk, 'less you want to." She said with a lilt, winking once at her reluctant dinner companion. "But I think I might want to talk, so nod and smile once in a while to let me know you're still here."

The woman looked at her and tried to smile, to little avail.

"Well, I can talk about a whole variety of things, but we already know what's on TV tonight, and current events just seem so...current. I want to get to know you, so I'm going to ask you some 'closed-end' questions....you know...yes, no...Maybe? Ok?"

Her guest nodded and once again made a futile attempt at a smile.

"How are you...no, sorry...are you ok?" she quickly reverted to her agreed upon format. A small but discernable nod indicated that she was ok.

"Ok, that wasn't so hard....let's try...is Mark ok...I mean...do you know if Mark is ok?" she said, growing more confused by the moment"

"Yes," she said softly.

"Well, that just about exhausts the innocuous. Let's move on to something more...challenging. When Maired is here, where does Mark go...oops, sorry? Is Mark still here?"

"Yes...but no."

"Ok...what?"

The woman inhaled and sighed deeply. Her eyes were teary and she looked away once again.

"I...he...we...we're..." her voice trailed off as she tried to rise from the table.
Grabbing her hand, Erica urged the woman to stay.

"I'm sorry...I was teasing...it's easier to deal with this with some humor, but I see it's not working. Let's start over. Maired, honey, please let me in, I want to know what you're all about." Erica could hardly believe what she was saying, but she knew that Maired was an integral part of Mark's life, and she needed understanding.

"I'm still the same person, but a different persona, I guess." The woman was almost whispering at this point. "Everything about me is the same except that I'm...I'm Maired. I still love you...." Her voice trailed off once again. She put her face and her hands and began to cry. "It's so hard to explain....I just...I love you so much...."

Erica felt confused by it all, and used the interruption of the tea kettle to pause the conversation.

"A nice cup of tea will help," she said as she walked over and began to rub the woman's shoulders. She leaned over and kissed her on the top of the head, saying quietly,

"It's ok, I love you, too." She returned to the stove and retrieved the kettle, bringing it to the table along with two mugs.

"I don't know how other...well, other couples handle stuff like this. I only know that I love you with all my heart, and well, we've been through enough to know that God is in control and we'll be ok." Erica surprised herself with a new-found faith that everything would be ok.

"Can I go change now?" The woman asked quietly.

"If you really want to, but don't mind me. In fact, I'd rather you stayed. I can't help but notice that you...well...I..." Erica for once was the one to turn away, tears filling her eyes, as much for herself as for her husband. She rose from the table and walked around to where Maired sat. Leaning over, she kissed her on the cheek, just like any girlfriend might for a hurting loved one or friend. She tasted the moist salty tears that streamed down Maired's cheek.

Maired tried to pull away, but Erica would have nothing but that.

"I don't know...why, but for me, nothing has changed," Erica said, her own tears mixing with Maired’s. "I only know that I have loved you since the first day we met. It seems so silly, a young girl deciding at 13 who she wanted to spend her life with. And spend my life with you I have...all of you...every part of you...every...” She paused and swallowed.

"Every one of you." She kissed Maired once again on her cheek. Her lips brushed past Maired’s ear and she said quietly as she stood up, "Nothing...Nothing has changed."

They sat quietly, drinking their tea. It felt like an eternity, but only minutes had passed since she kissed her cheek. Erica was holding her mug with one hand and stroking Maired’s face.

"No...Not just yet," she thought to herself. She was struggling with the feelings that brought conflict to her own beliefs. "Do they like the same music...what's her favorite color...she can't like hockey...can she?"

Maired had wiped her face, and was sitting quietly, drinking her tea and feeling uncomfortable with the attention her cheek was receiving. She wanted to talk, but the words seemed stuck somewhere inside of her, unable to free themselves from the past. Her thoughts were interrupted.

"More tea?"

"Yes, please." Maired’s thoughts drifted off but were once again interrupted, this time by the sound of music.

"I thought a little Celtic might lighten the mood," Erica said as the sound of James Galway filled the kitchen. You know what it says... 'Music maketh the heart merry.' I can't guarantee merry, but not somber will have to do." With that, she kissed Maired on the top of the head once again, and began to fill the dishwasher.

"Oh, where are my manners? I forgot to tell you how pretty you look," She said and her smile indicated that she was quite earnest in her compliment. Well, it would have appeared that way to Maired, had she been looking at Erica. She had turned her head away once again.

"Oh, come on; give a girl some credit, huh?" Erica stepped over, took Maired’s face in her hands, kissed her lightly on the lips, and returned finish cleaning up.

"Quite pretty, indeed."

A few days later…

"Come on!" Erica called from the living room.

"I've changed my mind...I don't want to go today." A voice called from the bedroom,

"Your mother is expecting us for dinner...we can't disappoint her."

"She's not expecting....me."

"I know that, but she wants to see you just the same."

Marie Kiernan’s home…the previous weekend…

Mark and Erica had gone over to Marie's for dinner. They had told her that they had something to tell her, and assured her that everything was ok with Mark's remission. Mark was in the midst of a fairly promising recovery since his last course of treatment, but it was to be expected that the words 'we need to talk' would cause Marie to worry. Marie served sweet sausage and penne in a cream tomato sauce. It was Mark's favorite, and it was probably the best meal he had eaten (save his own wife's great cooking) in quite a while. Mark had grown up blessed by the heritage of both his parents.

His dad was all Irish, and his mom was half Irish and half Italian. A volatile mix in some families, but nothing but love when redeemed by God. The dinner went quickly, and the conversation was unremarkable. Marie seemed anxious about the topic of conversation.

“So, tell me, kids...what's the big news?" she asked. "Since you're doing ok, health wise, that is, what could it possibly be?" Marie knew better than to ask if Erica was pregnant. Mark's cancer had left them with doubts about having children, although the doctors had told them it might be possible ...if this...if that...when this...if you... a small glimmer of hope which seemed to diminish with every passing day.

"Did you finish your next book?" This was more likely, since Erica had begun another children's book since Mark had become ill, and she used the book as a needed and helpful distraction for all the energy and attention Mark's illness demanded.

"No, Mom...I'm almost done, but that's not why we wanted to see you. Mark has something he needs to talk with you about." She leaned over and grabbed Mark's hand.

"I know this is hard, but I love you very much, and I know Marie loves you even more, if that were possible." She patted his hand again and looked back to Marie.

"Sweetie...what's wrong...Is there something wrong? Why..." Marie paused and drew a deep breath. "Honey...there is nothing that you can say that will ever change my love for you."

"Mom...I have a secret." His eyes had already begun to tear up. Erica had teased him playfully that their life had become one big 'Lifetime' movie, and that it needed some car crashes or explosions to bring it back into balance.

Erica's humor helped them cope with the stuff life had thrown their way, but tears were inevitable, nonetheless.

"It's ok, Mark, go ahead." Marie only used his name when he needed assurance or support. It was like a blessing that indicated her support and encouragement. Like any good mother, however, she would use his full name, "Marcus James Kiernan!" when she wanted undivided attention. Here, obviously, it was she who was providing the undivided attention.

"I....this is so hard...I don't...I can't." Mark stood up abruptly and walked outside onto the deck. It was probably the first time in weeks that Erica was too slow to grab him and keep him seated.

Erica started to get up, but Marie spoke. "That's ok, honey, I think I know what this is all about." Erica looked at Marie, puzzled. Marie walked over to Erica, leaned down, and kissed her gently on the forehead and whispered softly in her ear.

"Boys can never keep secrets from their moms...we just know."

Mark was standing on the deck, staring blankly into space. Marie walked out onto the deck and stood quietly behind him. She gently placed a hand on his shoulder, causing him to tense up. She grabbed the back of his neck and kneaded it.

"Honey, whatever it is, it can't be worse than what you and Erica have already been through." She kept kneading his neck, but he pulled away. He turned to face her, and she saw that he had not just teared up, but had been weeping.

Tears streamed down his face, and he tried to look away.

"Mom...you...you just can't...you won't understand...it's too much...I hurt Erica...I let her down...I let you down.

I'm the worst son anyone could ever have."

Marie stepped over and grabbed his face with both hands. Turning his face to hers, she put her hands firmly on his shoulders and said,

"My sweet son...nothing you could ever say or do could change my love for you. I am the proudest any mother could be, and I will not let you speak otherwise. You are a good son...the best son a mother could ever have." She was teary, but her bold confidence broke through Mark's defenses. He fell into her arms, weeping with convulsions. Her love gave him permission to be vulnerable, and in one moment, he became the boy she knew when they both suffered the loss that neither had been able to bear.

"It's ok, Mark, it's ok. You're going to be ok." She said this with all the conviction and authority a mother has. "Mark....Mark..." She kissed him on the neck...not like the romantic kind, of course, but in the Biblical way a parent would kiss a child to bless them.

Mark's weeping began to subside, and he wiped his face with his sleeve, but he was still apprehensive and guarded.

"Mark....don't....Mark...I think I know what your secret is." She looked at him with a soft smile. "I'm not going to guess...I know this isn't a game, but I really think I know more than you give me credit for."

He looked at her and sighed. "I...I...Mom...you know I would never hurt you....I would never hurt anyone I love...at least I wouldn't intentionally."

"Mark, of course I know you wouldn't...you couldn't. Besides, life and God's grace have made me tough enough to bear anything...I repeat...anything. So, now, my son, what is it you feel you cannot share with your mother." Her assuring tone took away some of his anxiety, permitting him to talk calmly.

"Mom, I miss Maura so much, even now, it sometimes feels like I'm...we're hurt as much as when she died." Marie nodded, silently, and she pursed her lips in agreement.

"When she died, it was as if part of me was taken away...that I was no longer whole."
It has been said that identical twins have some sort of psychic connection. Mark and Maura, obviously, were fraternal twins, and what connection they did have arose from a love and support for each other that were birthed from their mutual struggles with their mom's own bout with cancer.

"I didn't know why you wanted to talk, but I suspected it had something to do with your sister." She grinned, and cocked her head slightly."

"Yes, that's right. I guess what they say about mother's knowing everything is true," he said, laughing softly as his tears subsided.

"That's really not what I meant...how do I say this? Mark...I knew it was about your sister...your other sister."

Even as she spoke, she placed her hands in front of her, palms down, as if to reassure him and short-circuit Mark's inevitable response.

"You....know?" he said, looking all the world as if he would run away.

"Mark...honey...it's ok...it's ok," I know.

Erica sat at the table, half praying and half ready to jump out of her chair.

"Crying dying down...that's good...no yelling...that's good....still on porch...that's good." She tried to list in her head all the things that could go wrong once Marie heard Mark's secret. What she didn't know is that Marie had known almost all along about Mark's "other" sister. She had shared her "suspicions" that something was up, but had not revealed everything to Erica, entirely out of a desire to keep Erica from being burdened with one more thing.

Unlike the fanciful stories that one can read about regarding sweet relationships between mother and son, Marie had known that Mark had used dressing as way to cope with the awful loss they both shared. She did not, however, encourage or discourage him, understanding instead that he would come to tell her, or not, all in good time. And that her sole purpose as his mother was to accept him and love him like any other mother would or should.

Back to the present…

"Sweetheart, we need to go. I'm famished, and you haven't eaten all day. She's serving lasagna with lamb and beef meatballs. Come on...it'll do you good to get out.

"Not like this," the voice from the bedroom insisted, with more than a little conviction.

"Yes...like this...YOU PROMISED her, so get out here and let's go. I MEAN IT" Erica’s tone was loud but quickly gave way to laughter. Besides, being that it's your birthday and all, you wouldn't want to disappoint her. She went to all that trouble to cook...just for you (feel guilty) and she has a special present for you (feel guilty)" Erica said as she tried with some success in imitating Subliminal Man from SNL.

Nothing was heard for several seconds, but soon the silence gave way to soft footsteps coming down the hallway.

"There...that wasn't so hard?" Erica said as she beheld the figure before her. Standing in the hallway was a woman. She was about Erica's age, and she looked very nervous.

"She's been waiting all week for this, and you know how much she loves you, regardless of what you're wearing," Erica tried to reassure the woman, but was having only moderate success.

"Not like this," the woman said as she used her hand in a broad gesture. She was wearing a dark green full-skirted dress. Her shoes were a darker green with two-inch heels, and she wore a simple strand of pearls around her neck.

Her makeup was modest, and her hair was styled as well as could be expected considering its short length.

"What not like this?" Erica said as she walked over to the woman. She grabbed the short lapels of the dress and smoothed them. Patting the woman on the shoulder, she said reassuringly, "you look great."

"But..."

"Honey...you do look great...not as great as me, but close enough." Erica said with a laugh. She paused, and looked the woman in the eye.

"Sweetheart...I know this is probably the most difficult thing that you will ever do...ever. Your mom loves you more than her own life, and she needs to see you. It's not only your birthday...it's Maura's birthday, too. Don't get all teary...I'll start crying and it's getting expensive to have twice as many cosmetics in the house."

She leaned forward and pulled the woman to her, embracing her as a sister or girlfriend. Kissing her on the cheek, she pulled her tighter and said quietly,

"It's ok, sweetheart, we both love you dearly, and it's going to be alright."

A short while later…

The drive to Marie's house seemed to take forever, and both women were glad to finally arrive. As they approached the front steps, Marie was already standing at the door.

She opened the door and stepped onto the porch. Erica approached first, embracing Marie.

"Hi Mom!" she said and began to cry.

"My sweet daughter...it's ok..." Erica had been just as anxious as everyone else, and the tension and emotion that had been building up flooded out. She quickly composed herself, laughing through the tears.

"We made it...WE made it."

Marie hugged Erica and looked over her shoulder at the woman standing meekly off the porch. Marie kissed Erica on the cheek and stepped past her. She walked up to the woman and smiled with smile that only a loving devoted mother can smile.

"Happy Birthday....Maired."

It had been three weeks since Erica and Maired had dinner with Maired's mom, Marie. Apart from some understandable awkward moments, the dinner went surprisingly well. Neither woman anticipated the acceptance that Maired had received from Marie, but it shouldn't have surprised them, either. Marie was a loving parent, and her daughter meant the world to her. It was quite a different introduction. You know...the daughter brings home her intended, but instead of a boyfriend, she brings home her girlfriend. What made this meeting uniquely different was the second, unlikely twist on meeting the parent. Instead of the daughter bringing her girlfriend home to meet mom, it was daughter-in-law bringing home newly-discovered-to-be TG husband to meet his own mom.

Mark had only been "cancer-free" for a few months when Erica discovered a secret that Mark had kept since his teens. As a way of coping with his twin sister's death, had developed an alter-ego of sorts. He became a second daughter, Maired Kathleen Kiernan to be exact, for his mom. Not as a replacement, per se, as he felt no one could actually replace her. In his mind, understandably, his grief and loss were so hard to bear, and his guilt as the surviving twin drove his to try to be like her. He was afraid of being rejected, and keeping secrets only leads to more guilt and fear.
What he failed to understand was that both his mom and his wife had the extreme capacity for patience and understanding that only comes from unconditional love. His mom had endured both the loss of her husband and father of their children, and the absolutely devastating loss of a child. Her faith in God only grew stronger, albeit with painful challenges and successes that life frequently brings. Her own brush with mortality came through a long bout with breast cancer. These setbacks only proved her faith, as the difficult challenges of loss and grief drove her further into the hands of a loving God.

Erica was Maura's best friend number one (or number two, you know how teenage girls are) along with her other pal, Gina. The three of them were inseparable, and Maura's death set paths for both surviving members of the trio. Gina was perceptive and understanding, and her gifts and talents led her to listen and understand and counsel her closest friends. She eventually went to college, followed by grad school, and became a middle school guidance counselor.

Erica found release and healing through writing. Her gift for understanding and expressing the wants and needs of children led her to college as well, and she started writing children's books. She became successful with a series of books that gave children's perspectives as personified by baby animals. Her latest book was a best seller that dealt with grief and loss as expressed by Billy Bear. Both women reluctantly but whole-heartedly embraced the grief that made them the caring, understanding, and loving people who enriched the lives of those they knew.

These women were Mark's sole support, at least from a personal perspective. His doctors and nurses and support staff were not only excellent, but they had become a second family to him. His only family was limited to his mom and Erica (and Gina on occasion) since he had no other family. His own grief and loss and fear narrowed his perspective, as often happens with people who undergo divesting disease. It was his family who drew him up from his despair.

But he was unprepared for the acceptance he received when he revealed his secret; first to Erica, but eventually to his mom. His fear had clouded his appreciation of the love they held for him, but that same love helped him begin to overcome his fears. He certainly was well underway in his recovery from the cancer; physically, emotionally, and of course, spiritually. But now he was battling a different fear. Even though his secret had been revealed, he still remained unable to face the fact that his wife and mother had embraced Maired with open arms, awkwardly and with some small and understandable reluctance at first. But as Yoda might have said, there was, "ANOTHER."

Haverford College…Ardmore, Pennsylvania…

Erica and Gina sat on the bench in the part of the campus that overlooked a small, duck-filled pond. They had picked up lunch, preferring to eat outdoors instead of a closed restaurant where they might be overheard. They would have had little to worry about, since they met half-way between their homes, and anyone at any restaurant would not have known or understood the context of their conversation.

"So, tell me, sweetie, what's it like having another woman in the house," Gina giggled, taking a sip of juice.

"It must be difficult sharing a bathroom with her...you know, with all the girly stuff you guys might have..." This time Gina successfully suppressed another giggle, thereby preventing the mouthful of juice from shooting through her nose.

"It's not really like that, Gina...come on...you know....Mark is home all the time. I mean...MARK is home all the time. His sister only...well...she only visits once and a while, and usually only for tea or to watch a chick-flick DVD."

Erica paused and looked out, as if seeking a cue from "off-stage."

"The hardest part is to know how to encourage both of them...Mark especially. Maired ...well, she's getting to know me and all, and she's really getting to know herself, so mostly anything positive I say will encourage her.

It's Mark that I'm worried about...No, that's not what I mean. I guess I struggle with how to build HIM up. He's almost fully recovered from the cancer, God willing, but he still is in an awful funk."

Gina quickly switched from 'caring girlfriend,' to 'caring counselor' and nodded with an understanding expression.

"Go on...."

"Oh, stop..." Erica said with a grin, and slapped her friend's wrist playfully.

"I know, but nevertheless, I will, with the talents and gifts that I possess, rephrase your last statement. ’He's depressed even though his health seems completely restored." Honey, it's ok for him to still be scared...You are too, aren't you."

The light moment changed in an instant, and Erica began to tear up.

"Gina...I'm still so afraid of losing him. He's still so vulnerable." Erica composed herself and said,

"I know God is still in control, but I struggle with what my part is in all of this."
"Your part is what is always is and has been; to love him. Nothing more, nothing less. And from my view, that's just what you've been doing. You've taken care of yourself, so that you've been able to take care of him.

Everything will work out ok...that's what you've always told me, and I believe it, too. And I'm here for you and Marie and your own Mom, too, sans the info regarding the tranny husband, of course."

"I don't know what I would have done without you, Gina."

After a pause, Gina smiled and said, "So tell me; what's it like with two women in the house?

Later that afternoon at home…

Erica walked into the living room and found her husband on the sofa, reading his Bible.
"Hi, honey, how's your day going," Erica said, encouraged that MARK was home, and more importantly, that he was reading his Bible.

"I've been reading most of the day. I finished that Jack Higgins novel you picked up the other day. One of his best." Mark looked down, as if his own glance was revealing what Erica already knew. "And I..."

"Mark, it's ok. Anyone who's been what you...what we've been through is bound to have their faith challenged. I'm just glad that you're gaining some strength and support in that area. I..."

"I know, honey, and I'm sorry I've leaned too heavily on you...I'm so..."

"Marcus James Kiernan....Stop this instant," Erica said with the authority that had been passed along by her mother-in-law. "Guilt has no place in this household." she said, with authority, but with the authority that only comes from her faith in God.

"You are my husband...You are a good man, and I refuse to allow you to think anything less of yourself than I, your mom or God believes. You did not bring on your disease, you did not craft the circumstances that took away your health, and you a no less of a man now that when I first fell in love with you. You are, however, responsible for how you deal with what life has dealt you. And I will not have you put down yourself any longer." Erica sat down, and fanned herself with a magazine she found on the coffee table.

"Whew, where did that come from?" she said playfully as she swatter her husband's arm with the magazine.

"Well, I can't argue with that," he said as he smiled.

"Then how about you get up and get me something cold to drink and we can continue this conversation in the bedroom."

Mark looked at her, puzzled.

"Yes, dear husband, in the bedroom."

A few weeks later…

"Erica, your publisher is on the phone," Mark called out, noting the caller ID.

"Ok, honey, I've got the extension," Erica said even as she walked into the kitchen with the receiver in her hand. "Yes...ok, I'll be in this afternoon, thanks, Sharon. Bye."

Erica stood by the kitchen doorway and said, "Sharon says that they're going ahead with the next series, and they want to discuss the illustrations. You know, Dave Anderson is doing the pics, and they want to forward the manuscript so he can begin. I'm going into Philly around noon. I've got some errands to run, so I won't be back until about six or so.
We can have the chicken from last night, or you can order a pizza, if you want."

"Sure, leftovers are ok. I might run out myself...we're out of milk and coffee."

"Mark..." Erica paused. She walked over to the sofa and sat down. "Mark...I haven't seen Maired in a few weeks. Is there something wrong?" Erica was surprised that she said that, but Maired had become an integral part of their lives...of her life. She had found that Maired was good at helping her sort out things that only could be solved from a woman's perspective. She found that Maired was especially helpful in helping Erica craft some of the themes from her last book."

"I...well; it's just that...well, what you said a few weeks ago. I don't want to violate that trust..your expectations."

He was cut off when Erica put a finger across his mouth to shush him.

"This is almost as new and confusing to you as it is to me. I just know that we are all in this for the long haul. You know, someone once said, you marry a person, and you marry their family. Your mom is as precious to me as my own mother, and Maura would have been such a great sister. All I have is you....and Maired. She's...well...she's family.
It's hard to explain, but I've just now gotten used to having her here, and I...well...I miss her."

Mark tried to speak, but Erica cut him off.

"Nothing about what I said has changed. You are my husband. When I am with you, I feel safe and protected. No one...I repeat, No woman on earth could possibly be blessed with a better husband that you. All I'm saying is; it's ok for Maired to visit once and a while. I don't mind, and you don't have to feel less of yourself if she does."

A few days later…

Maired looked at herself in the bedroom mirror. She felt she bore a resemblance to the short-haired red head on that Law and Order show, Julianne something. She wore a pastel green cotton blouse and dark grey slacks. Her shoes were black and low heeled. As always, her makeup was minimal, save for some soft eye shadow and lip gloss. The image of a late twenty-ish Irish lass. Truth be told, her impression was accurate, save for the continuing timid affect her face bore. Maired was conflicted. She felt somewhat comfortable in the Kiernan household, but part of her couldn't help but feel like an interloper. Was she imposing...did she make things difficult for her hosts?

Did Erica really like her, but was she only putting up with her for Mark's sake.
The delivery guy had just left when Maired heard Erica's car door close. She walked into the kitchen and began setting the table. The front door opened and Maired heard,

"Honey...honey, I'm home."

Maired walked into the living room and smiled at Erica.

"Hi, Erica," she said softly, continuing to smile warmly.

Only a little surprised, Erica said, "Oh, hi Maired. How are you, dear?" Pronouns and terms of affection had become jumbled and confusing, so Erica always referred to Maired as dear.

"Good, thank you, Erica. You look lovely today."

And Erica did. Erica's hair was long and fell just below her shoulders. Her hair was dark brown, with streaks of grey and light brown that only a few women could pull off. She was wearing a dark grey silk skirt suit with light grey hose and grey suede shoes with two inch heels. Her blouse was cobalt blue and silk, and she wore a simple pearl pendant with matching earrings. One thing that Erica quickly determined was that she was not threatened by Maired in any way. Maired was quite attractive, to be sure, but Erica was just as gorgeous as the day she and Mark married.

"Thank you and you're lookin' as pretty as ever was," Erica said, speaking in a brogue that occasionally salted their conversations. "I guess Mark felt we needed some girl time."

"Yes, I believe that's the story. I ordered some pizza...I hope that's alright. It's ok, isn't it," Maired said in her typical shy tone.

"Of course, Maired, I’m hungry and pizza sounds just about right. Anything cold in the fridge?"

"I think I saw some Deer Park and Diet Coke."

"Diet Coke sounds great. Would you mind getting me a glass?"

"Eat in the kitchen or in the living room?"

"Living room, please. The sofa feels good, and we can put our plates on the coffee table.
Maired returned with two glasses filled with Diet Coke and ice. She left quickly and placed two plates with mushroom and onion pizza, along with some paper towels.

"I hoped Mark would be home, since I got a bunch of stuff to tell him, but this affects you, also Maired.

You know, you're my best girlfriend next to Gina." Erica said with a smile. "Mark already knows about the new book arrangement. But I have more news that affects both of you. I know I should tell this to Mark first, but I just can't wait." Erica began to grin, and started laughing softly like the girl in the jewelry commercial who's just gotten an engagement ring.

Maired smiled awkwardly, no knowing what to say, think, or even feel.

"Maired, I want you to know that you have been a blessing to me. Because of you, I have learned more and found more love in my life. You have helped me understand my husband, and I thank YOU for that. I have discovered more about myself, and I thank YOU for that. I feel that I could tell you anything and you would accept and understand me. I hope you feel the same way."

"Well...of course...I...I do...."

"Well, since Mark can't be here right now, I can't think of anyone I'd rather tell my news to, and it affects you personally."

"I...I don't understand..." Maired looked at her askance. "Me...personally??

Erica was laughing, but her eyes began to fill slowly with tears.

"When Mark got sick, we went through a great deal of pain and disappointment. But nothing could have prepared me for what the doctor said next....that we probably would never..." Erica started to cry, but her affect was almost joyful.

"Well, I really shouldn't tell you this...you being his sister and all...but a few weeks back, Mark and I...well, we made love for the first time since he had gotten sick." Maired looked confused, like Han Solo when he finds out that Luke and Leia are brother and sister.
Erica looked at Maired, but it was obvious, at least to her, who the next words were for.

"It was the best sex we had ever had. We loved each other with the same passion as when we were first married, but the emotional and spiritual connection...well; I finally think I understand what it means to "know" your spouse in the Biblical sense"

Maired once again looked puzzled, but another look crossed her face...she looked away, as if that would help her understand. Her eyes widened a bit and she opened her mouth."

"Maired....You are going to be an aunt!

"I'm going to be a...aunt...." Maired’s eyes widened even more.

Erica looked at Maired and said softly..."Maired....Mark...sweetheart...you're going to be a daddy.

"I'm going to be....a..Daddy?"

"Yes, honey, we are going to have a baby!!!" Erica jumped up and grabbed Maired’s hands.
She jumped up on the couch, pulling Maired up with her. Jumping up and down hysterically, she laughed.

"We're going to have a baby."

They sat on the sofa, almost spent after the good news and the consumption of a whole pizza and several glasses of Diet Coke. Maired was sitting on one end of the couch, looking dazed. She held her hand to her face to wipe her tears, ignoring the paper towel on the coffee table. Erica was sitting in the middle of the couch. She sidled over and put her head on Maired’s shoulder.

"Honey...you seem...well, isn't is good news?"

"It...It’s great news...it's just so..." Maired’s voice trailed off..."I just can't believe...it's too much to hope for..for you."

"For us...for all of us. I can't wait to call your mom... She will be beyond excited."
Maired grabbed the cordless from the coffee table. Erica grabbed her wrist.

"Not just yet. I want to call her, but it can wait for tomorrow. We still have more celebrating to do."

Erica leaned closer and kissed Maired on the cheek. Maired turned to face her and tried to speak. Erica pulled Maired’s face to hers and gave her a long passionate, not-at-all -sister-to-sister kiss on the mouth.

After a few moments, Maired looked at Erica and smiled sheepishly.

"I guess I had better go and change," she said.

"That's probably a good idea. Why don't you go change and wait for me in the bedroom. I'll just finish cleaning up here and join you once I'm done." Erica said and kissed Maired on the cheek.

Maired got up and began to walk down the hallway but was interrupted.

"Oh, be a dear and take the bag by the door with you. Victoria's Secret had a sale on nighties."

Maired picked up the bag and started again down the hall.

"Oh, and by the way, the black one is mine, dear. I got the long green one for you." She said with mock indignation.

With that, Erica stopped what she was doing and walked up to Maired. She pulled Maired close to her and whispered gently in her ear,

"You’re not the only one who can keep a secret."

"Since the invention of the kiss, there have only been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure. This one left them all behind."

And then they kissed.

A few days later…

After running some errands, Erica came home to the sound of music. She opened the front door and heard the sound of flute playing "The Last Rose of Summer" coming from the den. Putting down her purse and briefcase, she walked down the hall.

"Honey, I haven't heard you play flute in years, but I'm glad that you're able to get into your music again.

Mark had been playing violin for two orchestras in the Philly area, and had taught music at the local middle school part-time...at least until he had gotten sick last year. He was "on the mend," as they say, and had been cancer-free for seven-plus months. Flute was something he "fiddled" with, if you'll excuse the pun, only on occasion.

"Can you come out to the car and help me with the groceries?" Erica said as she walked into the den. She stopped abruptly, saying only, "Oh...Hi Maired."

Sitting at the piano bench was Mark's "sister" Maired

"How long have you been here?" Erica asked. "I was hoping that Mark would be here this afternoon to help me with the re-write to my book."

Maired looked up from the music on the piano and said, "I’ve been here since two, and Mark had said he'd be back at four." Maired looked away, as was her wont. "Can’t I help?"

"Oh...ok, yeah, sure," Erica said, reluctantly. She had been looking forward to spending time with her husband, but really had come to accept his "sister's" visits. She even looked forward to them, on occasion, because Maired offered Erica a different perspective on a variety of subjects.

"I have to warn you, though, Gina is coming for dinner today, and she promised to stop by early so we could talk about the shower arrangements.

Maired looked surprised, and began to get up from the piano.

"And where do you think you’re going, young lady? Erica asked.

"I guess I’d better go change," Maired said, walking to the doorway.
Erica moved to block Maired’s way.

"Maired Kathleen Kiernan!" Erica said with a good deal more authority than she intended.
"Unless you’re planning on changing into another sweater or more comfortable shoes, I suggest you sit back down at the piano.

"But Erica…"

"No buts, sister. We already went over this twice, and I’m not about to change my mind now. Gina’s my best friend and yours as well. I’ve done as much as I can to support you in this, and I need my friend to help me.” Truth be told, Erica was actually getting used to having Maired around. She was pleasant and helpful, and displayed a more positive outlook than her "brother," albeit with a timidity that almost matched Winnie the Pooh.

"I’m…I’m not ready…I’m not ready for company just yet."

"But I am, and since Gina is coming over…well, let’s just say I sorta fudged the time-frame."

Before the words had escaped Erica’s mouth, the front door cracked, accompanied by a knock and,

"Hey…is anybody home."

"Come on in, Gina, we’re back here in the den."

Maired would have run down the hallway toward the safety of the bedroom, but Erica still stood in the doorway, blocking any hope of escape.

"Hey, girlfriend, how’s it going," Gina said and hugged Erica. If Maired could have hid under the piano, she would have. Before she could move, Gina stepped into the room. She walked over to the piano. Placing her hands on her hips, she looked at the figure seated at the piano. She stepped toward the woman and offered her hand, saying,

"And I assume you must be Maired. I am absolutely unequivocally pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Heh…hello." Maired said, her cheeks turning a shade almost as dark as her hair.

"She’s exactly...I mean, exactly as I pictured her," Gina said, turning back to face Erica.

"She sorta favors that girl on ‘Criminal Intent.’ Julianne something."

"Nii…Nicholson," Maired said sheepishly, once again surveying the room for a place to hide.

"Who else does she remind you of?" Erica asked; arms folded with a somewhat melancholy look on her face.

Gina looked back and peered carefully at the woman sitting in front of her. Her eyes widened slightly in recognition, and quickly her playful mood softened as her eyes began to tear up.

"Maura…she looks like…she looks like Maura would have…Oh Erica." In an uncharacteristic move, Gina stepped closer to Maired and hugged her, both woman awkwardly patting each other on the back.

"Maired….uh…Mark? Sweetie…I think I understand."

Erica had contacted Gina weeks ago with a not too little sense of urgency. They got together for lunch, and once Erica made it clear that Mark’s health was ok, their conversation grew somewhat lighter, if not odder still.

Erica explained that Mark had adopted the persona of Maired as a way of coping with his sister’s death, but also as a way of honoring her memory by way of emulating her in that manner.

Maired, or rather Mark looked at Gina quizzically, but with an also much welcomed sense of relief.

"Gina…I can explain."

"It’s ok…Mark..." She paused, carefully planning her next few words. "It’s ok, Maired, I really do understand. It’s been such a long time, but I still miss her…so much…" Her voice trailed off as she looked back at Erica.

By now, all three women were crying. Erica, Gina and Mark’s twin sister Maura had been as close as three teenage girls could get. Each girl had been the other’s first or second best girlfriend, depending upon the changing moods that typify a teenager’s life. They were the distaff version of the Three Musketeers. Mark had been sort of a D’Artagnan, an interloper of sorts who was reluctantly accepted at first, owing to his y-chromosome.

He had held a crush on Erica dating back to when they were in middle school. The girls spent a lot of time at the Kiernan house, and Mark was sort of thrust into the mix. Both Gina and Erica were "only childs," and leaned heavily on both Maura and eventually Mark for sibling support. The girls and Mark were devastated at the protracted illness and death of their best friend and sister, and leaned even more on each other for support.

Gina was always the listener, and her love and support helped the "fellowship" continue and heal. Mark’s crush on Erica grew into a greater fondness, which in turn grew into love. Erica, for her part, was slower to acknowledge her growing feelings for Mark, and the relationship reached a plateau at the disappointing level of platonic love. Like the Tolkien’s ring-bearers, they moved onto separate lives that, nevertheless, remained committed to each other, even if at a distance.

After college, Erica moved back home, and began her graduate work at Temple. Gina and Mark both did their undergrad work at Temple, and were both attending their respective grad schools at Temple as well.

The friendship picked up almost where it left off. Gina immediately noticed a difference in Erica’s demeanor when she was around Mark, and took great pains to urge her girlfriend to explore her feelings for him. Although reluctant at first, Erica acquiesced to Gina’s encouragement, and it was she who approached Mark.

Erica most appreciated how kind and thoughtful Mark had always been. To be sure, he was all-male, albeit mostly in his manner and bearing. Owing perhaps to a curious hard wire in his brain, Gina had once said, Mark could be as athletic and manly as any guy she and Erica knew, but could also appreciate what most people might have stereotyped as feminine. His appreciation of design and composition might have made him a designer.

But his music. He and Maura had been encouraged to learn to play musical instruments. Maura played the cello and flute as sweetly as anyone ever did, and Mark learned to play the violin. His playing displayed a sensitive awareness and nuance that most others could only dream about.

Mark had never stopped loving Erica, and hoped against hope that they might get together. He was not completely surprised that Erica had re-entered his life, owing to a deep abiding faith that God listened to his prayers. Mark’s faith put God first, and he expected that God would bring Erica back into his life.

To say that their courtship was a whirlwind would be a gross understatement. They began dating in the first year of grad school, and were married the Saturday after graduation.

But the secret…

As Doc Brown might say, "Back to the…Present."

The three women had moved to the kitchen, and were sitting quietly at the table, drinking coffee.

Gina broke the silence with, "Well, apart from that, Mrs. Lincoln, how did you like the play?" All three looked at each other and broke out laughing, but Maired quickly returned to her almost perpetually embarrassed look. Gina reached over and grabbed Maired’s hand, placing it in Erica’s hand.

"I love you guys, and you really deserve not to be unhappy all the time. Can I say something…? As if that would keep me from talking. I know that you know that this is going to require not a small amount of getting used to. But you guys love each other. I know plenty of couples that would kill for the relationship that you have. I help do couples counseling at my church, and I can tell you that you’ve got the unconditional stuff down pat, more so than most. What you guys have gone through would have killed anyone else, if you’ll pardon the expression. But that’s what makes this…this new step in your relationship doable."

"Honey, you know I love you…I can’t even begin to say how much I love you, but…" She turned to Erica and continued. "I…this is so weird…"

"Go on, ‘but’" Gina said, displaying her "trained professional" face.

"I…this is so silly," Erica continued, her face starting to redden. "I find myself growing attracted to …Maired."

By now, Erica had grown almost crimson, and she looked away, but continued to talk.

"I...this is so…I can’t…"

"Sweetie, I’m sure Mark would understand," Gina said as if he weren’t really in the room.

"You do still love him," Gina continued, displaying a D.A.’s perceptive knowledge of never asking a suspect a question to which she didn’t already have the answer.

"Oh I …Mai…Mark, I love you so much," Erica looked at her spouse and burst into tears. They embraced and both held each other as Erica’s sobs began to subside.

Gina stood up and walked around the table. She leaned over and kissed the top of each of her friends’ heads.

"I’m saying this as your closest friend, no advice, no plans, no direction. Just one observation from a not-disinterested third party... Nothing really has changed. The person you loved and married is the same person.

Everything you appreciate about Maired is the same stuff that you love about Mark, but in a different package. You are going to go through the what ifs, the whys, all of the questions and doubts, but at the end of the day, this is the same person you know and love and have loved for almost your whole life. Don’t try to figure this out all at once. If it really needs fixing, you and God will figure it out together. Just continue to love each other and God, and I’m sure it’ll all work out.’

The two women broke their embrace, but continued to hold hands. Maired spoke first.

"I don’t want to hurt what we already have." Tears filled her eyes, and she looked at Gina.

"What do I do? This has become such a part of me, but Erica is more important to me than anything I could ever want or hope for." Mark was seeking approval...even a command that would release him from being anyone but the husband of his wife.

"Look at her, Mark. Talk to her."

Feeling awkward at his appearance, Mark grabbed a paper napkin from the table and started to wipe his lips.

"No…don’t. Mark…my sweet, sweet husband."

Erica said as she pulled Mark’s hand down from his face.

"I want you to know you are the best husband I could ever hope to have. You are the most honorable man I know, and I love you…How many times do I have to tell you before you’ll understand…You are my husband. But I married all of you…every bit of you, and she (with this Erica used her hand in a slight gesture toward him) is part of you. I love you, and I am getting used to loving Maired. You don’t have to change…I mean in the literal sense." She leaned over and gave Maired a sisterly kiss on the cheek.

After dinner they "retired" to the living room. Gina curled up in the recliner by the fireplace, and the "counselees" were sitting on the couch. All three had changed into their PJ’s and were watching some renovation show on cable. Gina was going to spend the night for a real sleepover. "Rocco’s spending the evening with friends," Gina said. Rocco was her Bull Terrier, and the friends were the Sapienza’s Beagles down the street. She looked over at the pair sitting on the couch and smiled.

"Mark’s taking the evening off, so it’s just us girls," she said as she looked over at Maired. Maired was sitting at the end of the couch. She wore a dark green satin pajama top with matching satin shorts, which mirrored Erica’s burgundy PJ’s. She moved closer to her and tousled Maired’s short red hair. Looking over at Gina, she smiled sheepishly.

"What?" Gina said, anticipating something dire.

"I know this whole evening has been fairly intense, but since things have lightened up considerably, I guess it’s ok to tell you…"

"Tell me…what?" Gina peered at her friend and looked over at Maired and then back at Erica.

"Well, it’s been challenging having another woman in the house, but..well... it’s going to get a little more crowded."

"No!?"

"Uh-huh," Erica said, trying hard not to laugh.

"You’re not…you’re…you’re not…you."

"Gina Claudia Sorrento...You are going to be an aunt!"

Gina jumped off the recliner and flew across the room. She knelt at the edge of the couch and reached up and hugged Erica.

"Absolutely friggin’ fantastic! Oh, honey, I’m so happy for you…for you both. I know how much this means to you and I know God is going to bless this child big time. She has the best mom a girl could ever have...he’s going to have the best…" Gina paused and looked over at Maired.

"Oh…jeez…" She said as she put her hand to her mouth. Turning aside, as if she were speaking to an audience, Gina said, "And Dr. Phil thinks he has it difficult." She looked again at Maired and back at Erica.

They looked at each other, pausing to think about what she said, and burst out laughing.
Once things quieted down, Erica and Gina sat on the couch giggling and talking. Maired got up and retrieved another bottle of sparkling cider from the fridge and refreshed the girl’s glasses. Sitting down on the recliner, she leaned in the direction of the couch and said in the most direct and insisting manner that an attractive yet timid young lady might say,

"Erica...Gina…would you mind…could I?

"What is it, sweetheart?" Erica said, expecting the worst.

"Is it ok if I change the channel?"

"Sure. What’s on?" Erica said, in her most in an understanding way.

"Well, if it’s, ok," the attractive redhead said

"I’m sure it’s ok, sweetie," Gina said, reverting to her counselor mode.

"It’s just…." Maired turned her head in the most feminine manner either woman had witnessed

"Well, whatever you want to watch is alright, dear, we understand," Erica said.

"I’d like to watch…." Maired said timidly, "the Stanley Cup Finals are on."
Erica and Gina turned and looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders and smiled.

A few days later, Maired and Erica were having a conversation that both of them had put off out of the awkwardness of the subject matter. Nevertheless, they had it anyway.

"I'm going to say this one more time," Erica said, fully expecting to repeat herself several times over. "It's ok...really." Erica was sitting on the couch, trying to finish a half cup of lukewarm coffee. Hearing no response, she continued, "Sure, we've got to set some parameters here; otherwise it's going to get very confusing."

Confusing was likely a gross understatement. Mark was only recently declared "cancer-free," and she had expected things to lighten up considerably. Both of them needed a break, but recent events dictated otherwise.

"First rule - we absolutely need some privacy, and that means I get to choose when you come over. I absolutely need quality time with Mark, and as much as I love you, he comes first. Second - I get to choose how much time you spend here. You are entirely welcome in our home, but only in as much as I can bear; you know what they say about two women in one household."

Still no response, so Erica continued.

"Thirdly, and this is the most important. Mark is my husband, and nothing will ever change that. His role as the man of the house may have diminished in his eyes, but he is still the man I loved enough to commit a lifetime to. Nothing I say or do will change that."
With that said, Erica paused, looked up at the ceiling and let out a long sigh.

"But....having said that, I must confess that I have mixed feelings regarding you. You...intrigue me." With that, Erica arched her right eyebrow and glared at her companion, as if gravely serious.

"What do you mean," a voice asked with not a small amount of timidity.

Sitting on the other end of the couch, trying for all the world to look as inconspicuous as possible was a very striking young woman, about twenty-eight or so. She was dressed in a long, dark grey pleated skirt, along with dark hose and dark gray suede boots. She wore a white cotton blouse and a dark green sweater, which complemented her dark red hair. Her hair, by the way, had grown out some, and the length was finally approaching her neckline. She wore pearl studs, and her neck was adorned with a single pearl on a gold chain. Her makeup, as always, was modest, acting as a visual representation of her quiet demeanor.

Erica, for her part, was dressed in what might otherwise have been construed as unattractive, but nothing she wore could take away from how beautiful she was. Twenty-seven years old, and every bit as youthful and attractive as a teenager. She was wearing an old cut-off Temple sweatshirt over a white tee, and her legs were exposed due to the short length of her workout shorts. Her hair, a dark brown with red auburn highlights, was sprinkled with the beginnings of gray, which added to the overall character of her face. Her complexion was almost porcelain, and she wore little makeup as well; her dark red lips and hazel eyes required little augmentation.

It was within the context of this relationship that the two danced. Erica had originally felt threatened. Who wouldn't, with another very attractive woman with which to compete? As they got to know each other, Erica discovered that she had nothing to fear. In fact, the woman sitting across from her was nothing but supportive and complimentary. Erica discovered that she could be confident in her own femininity without compromising her support for her new-found girlfriend.

Maired, on the other hand, remained self-conscious and (Erica would never admit this to her) high maintenance. Who wouldn't be? Only recently Maired had a coming out of sorts. She was the distaff doppelganger to her "brother," and had obviously suffered along "with" him in the bout against cancer. Fearing rejection, Maired had literally hid away for nearly a decade, and only recently was able to introduce herself to her brother's family. She, too, was confused. She wanted to be free and open to be herself, but feared that her presence would threaten the core of her brother's relationship with Erica. And she feared, moreover, that her presence might threaten her brother's existence.

"Maired, you know how much I love your brother, but I am having a hugely difficult time sorting out my feelings for you. I feel I must repeat myself regarding my commitment to my husband, and with the baby coming, things around here are going to get crowded, both literally and figuratively. But the baby is many months away, and I feel it is very important to figure out how this family is going to operate." Erica rose from the couch and walked into the kitchen.

She returned with a carafe and some half-and-half, which she set on the coffee table.

"I know we already spent time together, but that was in the heat of a moment, and more of novelty than anything else. But I really want to explore our relationship without worrying what might or might not occur…Does that make any sense?"

"I suppose…but…" Maired’s voice trailed off, and she looked away. Her inability to maintain eye contact would have been annoying in anyone else, but given what she had been through in the last year, Erica had come to understand and accept it.

"If Gina were here, I expect her next comment would be, ‘yes, go on,’ while nodding in a sympathetic manner. I am not a trained psychologist nor do I portray one on TV, so…what is the problem?

Maired looked at her and sighed. "What if you….find that you…like me?"

Erica looked back at her and smiled. "I believe you mean…what if I LOVE you? Well, what if? Is that so bad? It isn’t as if my husband will object." Erica smiled wryly as she reached over to refill her mug.

"Erica…" When Maired used Erica’s name, it changed the mood of the conversation. Erica looked at Maired with earnest concern.

"Maired….honey…Mark, what is it?" When Mark was dressed in his "Maired" persona, Erica rarely, if ever, used his name, trying not to confuse the two. But things would likely remain confusing for quite some time.

She could see that her husband was deeply hurt by her comments. Mark looked at his wife and sighed again, this time with a look of frustration and confusion.

"What if you….don’t want to…What if you find you love Maired more than me?"

"You...Honey, she’s a part of you. You can’t deny that. She’s been a part of you for a long time, and she has nothing and everything to do with how I feel about you. What we do or don’t do won’t change my feelings for you. I want you to know that…you must believe that. I don’t pretend to understand all that this means. I only know that I love you, and that you are a wonderful man. You are sensitive and caring, which may make you feel…But you know just what to say and do to make me feel secure and safe. You were a haven for me even in the midst of your own storm. I don’t know…it’s like…" Erica tried not to cry, but the tears came nonetheless. "I’m sorry…it’s probably just the hormones," she said with a laugh, even while crying.

"Hold me…Mark."

Mikado Thai Pepper Restaurant…Ardmore…

"Sweetie, how are you doing," Gina said as the waitress walked away. "Is there anything I can do?"

"No…yes, of course. You’ve been such a dear in all of this. Free counseling and support from a professional…I’m such a baby..." Erica tried to laugh, but sighed instead, her tears beginning to blur her vision. Gina reached across the table and grabbed her girlfriend’s hands.

"Let me see...first, your husband has cancer, which may or may not be gone for good. Then, in the midst of that, you find out he has a sister you never met who turns out to be…him. Then, if that weren’t enough, you find out after years of disappointment and sorrow that you are expecting your first child. And finally, you discover that you are attracted to your husband’s tranny alter-ego, which leaves you conflicted and confused. How am I doing so far?" Gina said with a laugh born more out of nervous tension than humor. "Yep, you’re a big baby, all right."

"I haven’t cried so much since…well, since Maura died. I feel so…guilty."

"For what, sweetie? For loving your own husband? Granted, the heels and the jewelry might be a bit much to take, but he still is your husband. So what if you find Maired attractive. She’s attractive, talented, and in a pinch, you can borrow her clothes."

Erica looked at Gina, wiping away her tears. The waitress came with their coffee and looked at Erica sympathetically.

"Oh, honey, is something wrong..?"

"She’s pregnant, and it’s that happy, confused, sometimes melancholy thing girls go through." Gina said, stifling a giggle. "Could you bring us some ice water?"
The waitress smiled and rushed off to get their water.

"I can’t begin to understand how this stuff is supposed to work…if it is supposed to do anything other than play out...You told me you are encouraging him in his manhood whenever he is around, so to speak."

Erica nodded, "Uh huh," was all she could say.

"Maired only comes around once and a while, right?"

Erica nodded again.

"Then I suppose that the next step is to find out how she feels about you." Gina looked at Erica and laughed.

"I can’t believe this conversation," she said, looking away as if to speak to an invisible audience. "You’ve talked to Mark…it’s time you just let her know how you feel about her.
What’s the worst that could happen?"

Erica looked at Gina with an awkward smile.

"I guess this is where Maired would say, ‘I suppose…’"

Later…

"Mark, honey, I’m home." Erica walked in the den where she found him seated at the piano. He was sitting faced away from the piano, with his violin beside him, bow in hand.

"Oh, hi, honey. I was just putting some rosin on my bow. I haven’t paid much attention, and I feel like I want to start playing again."

"Oh, Mark, that’s…wonderful." Playing his violin meant the world to him, and it seemed that he was finally emerging from that "long dark night of depression."

They spent the afternoon looking at furniture catalogs for baby furniture. The den was actually a converted bedroom, so their third bedroom would become the nursery. It was the first day in months that they enjoyed time together without any expectations.

Erica finally felt things were returning to some form of normalcy. Trying as hard not to manipulate things, she struggled with how to talk about how she felt. Her publisher had called and said that the manuscript was cleared for publication, and they would meet with her illustrator next week. This gave them a few days of free time without interruption.

Thursday afternoon came and went without any remarkable incident. It had been five days of just Mark and Erica, and she felt that he had regained confidence in himself. He was playing his violin every day, and the strains of Vivaldi and Irish folk music filled the house.

More important, their time as lovers was as fulfilling and romantic as ever, if not more so. She finally felt that she could talk about how she felt without worry.

"Mark, could you come here," Erica said from the bedroom. Mark walked down the hall from the den and entered the room. Erica was standing at the dresser, brushing her hair in front of the mirror. She was wearing the dress she had worn for last year’s anniversary. It was burgundy, sleeveless, with a scoop neckline and full skirt. She wore nude hose and CFM pumps with three inch heels. Her hair was up, and she wore the ruby pendant that Mark had gotten for her last birthday.

"Oh my god…you look absolutely breathtaking."

"Thank you," she said simply, continuing to brush her hair. "Dinner is in the oven, so I’ll just finish up here.

I’ve already poured some wine," she said, pointing to her glass on the dresser. "Yours is in the spare bedroom. I laid out your outfit for this evening on the bed in the other room, so just go take a soak in the tub. I drew your bath, so take your time and enjoy. When you’re done, get dressed and come into the dining room." She walked over and kissed him on the mouth and then whispered in his ear. "I love you, dear."

With that, she squeezed his wrist and walked out of the room. He shook his head and smiled to himself. Walking down the hall, he entered the second bathroom from the hall entrance.
Toweling off, he noticed that Erica had left nothing other than the towel in the bathroom. He walked into the second bedroom and walked over to the bed. There was a wrapped gift box on the bed with a note.

"Go to the closet and pull out the garment bag," the note read. Walking to the closet, he found the door open, and the bag hanging on the inside of the door. The bag also had a note, which read, "Go to the bed and open the box. Follow the instructions and meet me for dinner. I love you!"

Mark opened up the box and found a third note which simply read, "I love you, Dear!"

Mark stared at the note, finally appreciating its significance.

Erica was in the kitchen finishing dinner when she heard a voice from the hallway.

"Are you sure about this?"

Standing in the doorway, Erica beheld her beloved, who wore a cobalt blue velvet dress, sleeveless, with a scoop neckline and full skirt, much like her own. Her lover wore a simple diamond pendant, and her ears were adorned with matching studs. She wore sheer light gray hose and dark blue pumps with two inch heels. Her red hair was nearly shoulder length, and she wore matching tortoiseshell combs on either side. Her makeup was characteristically simple, save for dark red lip gloss, which made her lips look almost pouty.

She repeated herself, almost apologetically,

"Are you sure about this?"

Erica put the casserole on the kitchen table and walked over to the woman standing before her.

She kissed her lover and stepped back. Mustering a fairly good brogue, she said,

"As ever was, my dear…as ever was."

Heartbreak

A few weeks later…

"Mark? I think you'd better get down here," The voice on the phone said.

"Erica's feeling quite ill, and I don't think she should drive." Roberta, one of Erica's editors, continued.

"Oh, Mark...this is serious."

"Roberta, where's Erica?" Mark was asking even as he entered the publisher's office.

"She's in Dave's office, lying down." Roberta gestured toward the hallway. "Mark," She said with urgency in her voice, "I think she needs to see the doctor immediately."

Mark was out the door before Roberta had finished speaking. Running down the hallway, he looked into doorways until he found Dave's office. Dave was sitting in a chair by the couch, where Erica was lying down. Dave stood up and offered a quick handshake while holding Mark's arm. He spoke softly

"She's resting...she insisted on having you come. I offered to call an ambulance."
Mark cut him off. "An ambulance? What's going on?" Mark resisted the urge to raise his voice. "Why does she need an ambulance?"

By now, Roberta had joined them. She walked over to Mark and put her hand on his shoulder.

"Mark...she's been...bleeding."

"What...no! Oh, God no. NO!"

Erica woke up and it was clear that she had been crying.

"Ma...Mark..." She tried to speak, but began sobbing.

Mark ran to the couch, fell to his knees, and embraced his wife.

"Mark....Mark," she sobbed. "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry," she sobbed.

"It's going to be ok, honey...you're going to be ok," Mark said softly as he wept, trying desperately to reassure his wife, but only hoping against hope.

The next day…at home…

Gina sat at the kitchen table, sipping her coffee and feeling helpless.

"She finally fell asleep, sweetie," She said, patting Mark on the hand.

"Now you know...if there's anything you guys need, I'm just a phone call away. If you want, I can ask for some time off, and spring break is next week anyway."

Mark was standing at the kitchen sink, looking vacantly out the window.

Gina stood up and walked over to Mark. She put her head on Mark's shoulder and hugged him.

"You need to get some rest. Let me help you guys. I'll pop back home for a few things and I'll be back by four. Ok?"

Mark was too tired to argue, and truth be told, he was glad that Gina offered to stay.
He was exhausted, and his own doctor recommended that he rest. His remission was months old, but there was always a worry in the back of everyone's minds that he might get sick again. His mom had been over several times the past few days, but needed to take care of some things at her home, so Gina's offer was both timely and welcomed.

Mark's circle of friends and support had dwindled significantly in past eighteen months.
Being only part time at the middle school, his former students had moved on. The job itself was eliminated while he was on medical leave due to budget cuts. One of the orchestras he had played for disbanded, and the second was forced to replace him due to his protracted absence. His only real circle of friends growing up had been his sister Maura and her two best friends. He married Erica and Gina was there always as a sister and friend.

A while later…

Gina was sitting on the sofa in the living room drinking coffee and trying with little success to pay attention to the TV. She heard soft footsteps from the hallway and turned.
"Don't you dare get up, Gina Claudia Sorrento!" Erica said. She was clad in an old bathrobe over her footie PJ's. Her eyes were red, more now from exhaustion than grief. She walked over to Gina and kissed the top of her head. "Any more coffee? Don't get up...I'll make a fresh pot."

Erica walked into the kitchen and grabbed the coffee from the cabinet.

"Where's Mark?" she asked as she filled the pot with water.

"I put him to bed. He didn't want to disturb you, so he's taking a nap in the nursery."

Gina tried to stop her words from leaving her mouth, regretting instantly what she had just said.

"Gina...it's ok. I'm not made of porcelain or crystal...I won't break over a word."
Gina jumped to her feet and began to apologize, her arms quickly wrapping her best friend in the most comforting hug anyone could give. Her eyes were filled with tears, which mingled with her friend's tears as she kissed her on the cheek.

"I know, sweetie, but...well...It’s still ok to cry."

Both women stood in the kitchen, holding on to each other for dear life. Did you ever notice when someone is being consoled with a hug that sometimes they pat the friend on the back as well. Each woman held and patted and kissed as only sisters and best friends can.

"WE are going to get through this. I know we will. God knows we will," she thought to herself. Gina made no attempt to explain or excuse the death that was overwhelming this family like an emotional tsunami. Years of counseling, tempered by the grief she shared with this family, taught her that the best support anyone can give at times like this was to listen, hold and hug.

“God...I am so angry!" she said through her tears. "It's not fair...It's...." She began to cry once again, trying hard to escape her best friends embrace. She sat down at the kitchen table and sobbed, her fists balled up with rage and grief, crying so hard as to be painful. Gina bent over in an uncomfortable yet necessary pose and held her friend, speaking softly in her ear, "Shhhh....shhh...” Not the shushing of someone trying to quiet sobbing, but rather the soft, motherly "shh" that says, “I’m here...you're safe...it's not ok now but it will be."

Weeks later…

"No, Mommy...that's ok...I'm alright...really." Erica said to her mother Diane, and in fact, she was at least in the process of becoming "ok." We'll be over Saturday and we can talk some more. I love you, too. Yes, Mommy, I'll be ok. Love you, Bye." She hung up the phone and walked into the kitchen. Grabbing two mugs, she filled them with coffee and some half-and-half. Walking down the hallway, she looked into the den. Mark was sitting in the recliner in the corner, asleep, with his Bible on his lap, unopened. She looked over at the piano. His violin case was resting on the piano, as was his flute. Neither case had been opened in weeks; and Erica missed the sound of music...of his music.

The miscarriage had pushed Mark back into depression. He tried as best he could, and was at a level of functioning at least as good as when he first went into remission. But she missed him, and she was trying to deal with her own grief without him. Oh, he was supportive enough, and he did what he could to show her affection and support, but she also derived a great deal of comfort from whom he was as well, and that was missing. She walked over to him and leaned over, tapping his wrist softly. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, waking him.

"Honey, I'm going to shoot over to your mom's. It's Gina's birthday next Friday, and we're planning a party. I should be home about 9 or so. Can I get you anything before I go? I brought you a cup of coffee, ok?"

"Yes, thank you," he said as he grabbed her hand. "Give Mom my best, hon. Tell her I'll stop by tomorrow afternoon to install that new software she got." Truth be told, Marie, Mark's mom, knew how to install software, but she wanted to find something to draw him out of himself, so she lapsed into computer illiteracy for his sake.

"Ok, sweetie...I love you," she said as she walked out of the room.

"Love you, too," he said. He picked up his Bible and opened it. Looking down, he stared, as if the pages were blank. Closing it, he placed it on the piano bench next to him and stared off, looking for something to make the pain go away.

A few minutes later…

He began to cry, and it was fortunate that Erica had already left, because she was as tired as he was, and could ill afford expending any energy today for anyone but herself.

That Saturday at Marie’s…

"You guys are terrific. You shouldn't have ," Gina said, fully believing that they actually should have. "Twenty-Nine, and I still got it!" she said with a laugh. Rocco, her bull terrier, was standing by her, nuzzling her shin. She looked down at her bull terrier, who looked back with a pleading expression.

"No, you can't have any cake, and that's final." With that, Rocco toddled off into the kitchen to forage cake crumbs.

"Want any more coffee?" a voice spoke from behind Gina and Erica. Mark's mom Marie was standing with a pot of coffee in her hand.

"No," the two said at the same time. They laughed and thanked Marie who had by now drifted off seeking other guests.

Gina motioned toward the door leading to Marie's deck. She stepped out, with Erica in tow.

"Sweetie...are you ok? I know it's been two months, and we've talked and all. Stages of grief... blah... blah..." Gina rolled her eyes, acknowledging Erica's growing weariness with the process. "There's something else. We don't have to talk. Just promise me you'll let me help when you're ready."

Erica cut off her friend. "It's Mark...I just don't know...he's...there's something missing, I...It's like he's there, and he's been great. He was so looking forward to being a daddy." Her eyes began to fill with tears. The Kiernan family alone probably could provide enough salt to supply a small third-world country.

"Honey....don't...we can talk later, after everyone's left"

"No...I..." She stopped and looked back into the house, searching for Mark. He was sitting down in the living room, watching a Philly's game with Gina's cousins.

"I don't know how to say this...it's...hard to put into words." She looked away briefly but quickly turned back to face her friend. "I need more love and support than I have ever needed in my lifetime," which spoke volumes to Gina. Erica had endured the loss of her and Gina's best friend Maura, Mark's sister. She dealt with Mark's mom's bout with cancer.
She withstood Mark's own fight with cancer, which still hovered over their home like a bird of prey. Finally, she was continuing to heal, but still fell the utter pain of the loss of the only baby she and Mark might ever have."

"Honey...sweetie...I'm here...your mom's here...Marie's here. We can all help you guys through this. God's here, too, and I know that you know that."

"I think I know what's troubling Mark so much...I don't even think he knows himself."
Erica grabbed her friend's hand. “It's just like Maura all over again."

Gina immediately knew what Erica meant. The grief was different, but the mechanism for coping was the same, except Mark was able to cope when his sister died. He seemed almost paralyzed by the grief, despite the outward signs of healing and his own support for Erica. What was missing was the one person both of them had come to trust as a member of the family; the one person who had become another best friend for Erica...

Gina looked at her friend. Her eyes widened. She smiled, not out of humor, but more out of contentment one gets when they find a long-sought answer to a puzzle or question.

"Maired," she said softly, leaning close to her friend in a somewhat conspiratorial pose.
Erica nodded, tears in her eyes.
"Gina...” she said, "I...it's so silly...I...”

"Honey...it's ok..." Gina sighed and spoke. "Once again," she said with a wry smile," the trained profession, admitting that she does not hold all the answers to life’s questions." She paused, laughing. "She nevertheless believes that your life has now become a real-life episode of Jeopardy. 'I'll take Improbable Solutions for a thousand, Alex.' 'Maired," Alex says, to which you reply, 'Who is an irreplaceable yet enigmatic part of our family and cannot be ignored, left out, or forgotten as she is an integral part of the person I love most in the whole world, Alex!'"

The two looked at each other with an expression that spanned a range between sad, happy, confused and relieved.

"Maired...." They said in unison. "Maired"

Gina’s office…the following Monday…

"So Linda told you there's hope for more kids...Sweetie, that's great," Gina said, referring to Dr. Linda Mayo-Sorrento, her cousin and both her and Erica's OB/GYN. She picked up her chicken salad sandwich and took a bite, waiting for Erica's response.

"She said that it's not uncommon for a woman to miscarry her first. She said my checkup was normal. Mark's tests continue to come back negative, and he's healthy for all the right reasons." Mark was now cancer free for months, and there was at least some home regarding his continued physical health. While he was "functioning" ok in most aspects, Erica was concerned that he was having a difficult time dealing with the miscarriage. It had been nearly three months since they lost the baby, and he felt that he was responsible for their loss. Erica was slowly coming out of the pale she'd been under since they lost the baby, but her concern was more for Mark than herself at this point.

"He still blames himself, honey, and there's really nothing you can do about it other than continue to love and support him. I know this is difficult, and I'm here for you both."

Gina was not only a counselor, but she and Erica were best friends, dating back to when they were kids. You may recall that she and Erica formed a triumvirate of sorts with Mark's sister Maura, and the three of them remained inseparable until Maura's tragic and eventual fatal bout with cancer. Loss "ran" in the Kiernan family. Mark's dad Pat died when he was in middle school, and Marie, his mom, contracted breast cancer, which she battled on and off for over ten years. And Mark's illness remained a threat, though the doctors remained optimistic.

"Gina....you have been so great through all of this. I can't imagine what I...what we would have done without you. God bless you." By now, misty eyes were almost a prerequisite to any conversation the girls had, but they signified not only pain and loss but joy and hope in God.

"He's still...you haven't seen his sister at all, have you."

"Nary a peep," Erica said, wiping her eyes with her napkin. Erica looked out the window. Turning again to face her friend, she said,

"I'd settle for a conversation. Just watching a video or listening to music....It's almost like Maired never existed. But I was just getting to know her...It's like she went away..." She paused and laughed nervously. "This is so stupid...I can't believe I'm saying this...It's not like she...."

"You just lost your baby, and it still is scary that you might not have any other kids...it's ok to be scared." Gina reached over and held her friend's hand. "Your husband is only now showing signs that he will remain healthy, but even that's not certain. And one of your best friends seems to have deserted you...Yes; one of your best friends hasn't been available to support you. God knows I can't do this all myself...Honey...you miss her."

"Is that crazy? I love Mark with every part of my being. But I miss....Maired."

That Friday…

"Mark...hey, sweetie, it's Gina." the voice on the phone said."

"Oh, hi, Gina. Hey, you just missed Erica. She had a meeting with the publishers about her next book, but she should be back by four. Should I have her give you a call tonight?" Mark said.

"Actually, I called to talk to you," Gina said. Her bull terrier, Rocco, was barking in the background, so Mark surmised she was at home.

"Sure, Gina. What's up."

"I've got the day free. Educator's conference and I begged out for family reasons."

"Playing hooky?" Mark said.

"No, I am attending to an official family matter. You are family, Mark, and this concerns you." She said in a mock authoritarian voice.

"Sure...I know that. Is there anything wrong?"

"No, I just wanted to talk, and since I have the day off, can I treat you to lunch?"

"Yeah...that would be great." Mark said, wondering what was going on.

"Terrific, sweetie. I'll pick you up about eleven and we can go to the New China Buffet over by you. See you in about an hour. Love you, bye." Gina hung up abruptly, giving Mark little if any opportunity to change his mind.

The restarant a while later…

Mark had just come back from the buffet line, displaying his usual small portioned plate. He was eating ok, but had little appetite since his illness. As he sat down, he noticed that Gina was almost staring at him. She smiled at him, took a large gulp of water, and began to talk.

"I suppose why you are wondering why I called this meeting?" she said in an ominous tone. "Mark...we need to talk." Mark sipped his water and raised his eyebrows as if to say,

"And?"

"You know I love you dearly, and I would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. I certainly don't want you to feel guilty, but I'm going to be much more directive than any counselor should...but I am your friend first."

"I know, and I'm at the place where I take all the help I can get." He laughed, but his expression quickly became sad. "I've talked with the grief counselor your cousin recommended, and he's been a great help."

"But..."

"There's only so much that he can help me with. I realize that it wasn't my fault that we lost the baby. Linda told me as much, and my oncologist encouraged me as well. It's just...Gina...I haven't felt so lost since Maura died. I thought that I could deal with anything after the cancer, and I think I'm doing pretty good."

"Honey, it's not a competition. You don't have to prove yourself to anyone. You just lost a child, and however long it takes is what it takes. It's ok to be where you're at. I can't imagine what you are going through. But I know that it takes time, and you're going to find that the ups and downs don't go away quickly. In the meantime, you need support, too. Your mom and Erica and I are here for you, just as I know you're here for Erica."

"I feel like I've let her down, Gina. I haven't been there for her." His eyes began to water.

Trying her best to imitate Marie, Mark's mom, Gina rose up in her seat, pointed a finger at Mark and said, "Marcus James Kiernan...you stop that at once," but her efforts quickly turned to laughter. "Honey...you are the best husband any woman could ever have. I've never shared this with anyone...I had a crush on you in junior high. I was so pissed at first when you started looking at Erica, but I came to believe...not just accept, but believe that you and she were made for each other. Like a fairy tale..."

Gina realized what she had just said and began to laugh again. "No, scratch that...like a great novel."

"You had a crush on...me?"

"I know this is hard for you to accept, but I thought you were the best guy in school."

"But you...you were...?"

"A member of the elite group of extremely attractive girls who could have any guy they wanted....yes. But I thought that you were the best. And you actually ended up with the "best of the girls!"

She paused and looked at Mark. He had always struggled with self-esteem. Pat, his dad, was a great guy, but a recovering alcoholic who died too soon after his remarkable redemption. Mark never received the affirmation from his dad, and he ended up with a life-time of doubts.

"You...I repeat...You remain to this day one of the most attractive men I have ever know, and if I meet a guy half as nice as you, I will be one truly blessed woman!"
She reached over and held his hand. "Now, having said that, it leads me to what I wanted to talk to you about.

Back at the Kiernan home after lunch…

"Can I get you some coffee or tea, Gina," Mark said from the kitchen.

"How about a bottle of water?" She said. She sat on the sofa, waiting for his return. She thought better of talking in the restaurant. Mark was fragile enough, and she did not want to put him in such a vulnerable position in public, so she waited until they returned to his home.

Mark came into the living room and handed Gina a Poland Spring, and then sat down in the recliner across from her. He looked as anxious as he felt, and he ended up staring at the floor, as if condemned.

"Mark...look at me," Gina said in a voice that softly invited.

"Erica is struggling, and I think she's dealing with something only you can help her with."

"I...I've tried, but I've run out of things to do."

"You don't have to do anything more. Mark, you've done as much as any husband can do. It's not about what you can do, but who you are.

"I...what do you mean, Gina?"

"Erica has only a small circle of support, just like you. She's gotten the help she needs from the grief counselor, and her family and your mom have been super. But like I told her, I can only do so much, you know. She needs support from her Best best friend. You."

"But I....I am here for her. She knows that." Mark became defensive, but his tone quickly turned apologetic. "I'm so sorry, Gina...you must think the worst of me. I've been so selfish..."

"Mark...you have been here for her. You have been her best friend. But you're holding back. I don't understand how this works, but I know you're trying, but you are holding back. Erica needs all that you can give of yourself. She needs to know that you love her with every part of you."

"I don't understand..." Mark looked around, desperate for the answer that only he knew to his question.

"Mark....you're holding back, and I don't think it's intentional. You are filled with misplaced guilt over the death of your baby, and you can't imagine anything that you need or want is acceptable when both of you have suffered such a loss. Mark..." Gina said, and patted the couch beside her. "Come over here..." she said as she patted the couch again.
Mark rose tentatively from the couch and walked over. Sitting down, he looked at Gina with questioning eyes. His look was met by hers, which revealed what likely was the most compassionate understanding look he would ever behold.

She leaned over and hugged him briefly, and sat back. "You haven’t been selfish, but your fear is holding you back, keeping part of yourself from your wife, thinking that it would be wrong...Mark...she understands. You and she are dealing with the greatest pain that any couple can feel, and you have lost sight of the fact that the love that brought you together is the only thing, with God's help, that can sustain you. And she misses you. "

Mark looked at Gina with a look that said, "Go ahead...tell me."

"You've heard the expression, "Once you've said something, it can never be unsaid?
Well, once you've met someone, you can never "unmeet" them. Mark, your wife took vows when she married you that bind her by her own choice. She loves you unconditionally, and you have to know that she accepts every part of you as a blessing, however difficult those parts may be to understand...Do you follow me?"

"I think so," Mark said quietly, but it was clear to Gina that he didn't.

"Sweetie...it's ok to be exactly who you are...every one of you. She smiled and put his hands in hers." Mark was struggling to understand, not because he was incapable, but because his grief overwhelmed him and he couldn't believe."

"Honey....I think it's time Maired came home for a visit." Mark might have believed Gina was being playful, but the tears in her eyes told him otherwise.

"It's ok, honey...she wants you to. Maired is a part of you, and so is a part of her now. She lost her baby and she once lost her best friend. She doesn't want to lose you, and she doesn't want to lose Maired either. It's ok...honey, it's ok."

That evening...

A bowl of popcorn sat on the coffee table, uneaten, along with a half-empty bottle of merlot. A card lay open on the table beside the wine, which read, "Love you guys...Gina." Two women sat on the couch, just two women sitting in their PJ’s on a Saturday night, having a much-needed girl's night in. The brunette’s hair was pulled back in a ponytail. The redhead needed no barrettes or clips, her boyish hair still recovering from a much regretted decision to cut it short.

They sat in silence in the dark living room, dimly lit by the images from the DVD playing before them. Music from Howard Shore's stirring score filled the room from one of their favorite movies. A tale of courage, sacrifice, grief and loss, triumph and joy, power and romance. "For Frodo," the figure on the screen proclaimed, looking back to urge his companions to great deeds. The redhead said to herself, thinking of their recent loss as well as losses past,

"For Maura,"

They looked at each other, pondering the remark. They held each other, Erica’s head on the Maired’s shoulder. Both were crying softly as the tale finished. The two were closer and more in love than anyone could hope for. Like sisters and yet much more. Two who faced loss and grief beyond hope and were renewed by their love and the love of family and God.

"It's coming up," she said softly; pausing the DVD. "I cried when I saw this for the first time, and I didn't know then what lay ahead."

"I know, and I cried, too. This reminds me too much and just enough."

“I love you," she said, and drew even closer to her beloved. "Hold me," she said, and restarted the movie.

"I love you so much," Maired said softly, drawing her into her arms. The movie finally finished and the credits began to roll.

"Sleep now, and dream of the ones who came before"

When the inevitable tears came, they cleansed and began to give hope.

"Why do you weep? What are these tears upon your face? Soon you will see, all of your fears will pass away," the woman sang.

"Will, they?" Erica asked Maired and the singer.

Through tears, her lover sang sweetly along with the singer, "Safe in my arms...You’re only sleeping...”

Testing the waters...

A few weeks later…

"Honey, what’s wrong?" Erica asked as Mark put down the phone.

"The Board of Ed got back to me. They’re still in a hiring freeze, so I won’t be rehired…at least until next July."

"Oh, sweetheart…." Erica was at a loss for words. Mark had taken a leave of absence while he was dealing with the cancer. He had been looking forward to returning to work as a part-time music teacher at the local middle school, even if it was only a few hours per week. His other outlet for his music had become a dead-end as well. He played violin for two orchestras in the Philly area. One had disbanded for lack of funds, and they had another violinist who had joined when Mark was ill. He had not played for them for nearly two years, and he wholly accepted their decision to keep his replacement.

"I’m sure something will turn up," Erica said, trying desperately to convince herself as well. "No one can play like you; I don’t care what they say."

"I understand their decision, and I probably would have kept the other guy as well." Understanding was one thing, but he still was left dealing with the rejection, nonetheless.

The Country Squire Diner…Broomall, Pennsylvania…

"So, tell me, sweetie, how are things in the Kiernan household?" Gina sat across from Erica, sipping her diet Coke.

"The economy being what it is; Mark is finding it hard to find a job. Even volunteer opportunities are hard to come by since other musicians and teachers are out of work."

"How are things with your publisher?" Gina asked, looking for a ray of hope for her friends. In the space of two years plus, they had dealt with Mark’s cancer and a miscarriage, not to mention dealing with Mark’s "sister’s" arrival at the Kiernan home.
Maired, Mark’s alter-ego, had become part of the family, and remained a welcome if not confusing addition to the home.

"Things couldn’t be better. The third "Billy Bear" went into its second printing, and it’s being offered overseas as well. Erica was a successful author of children’s books, tapping into personal experience to help children deal with difficult subjects like friendships and losing loved ones. Her income, while not spectacular, was adequate enough to keep them above water. Right out of grad school, they got a great deal on a bank ownership on their house, and they put a lot of sweat equity into it.

"But it still is hard on Mark, given what he’s been through. I know you have tried to build him up in the Guy department. How is he doing?" Gina asked. Gina was their best friend, and was privy to the secret that had changed the Kiernan household.

"It’s been a struggle. He is so conflicted. He wants to be the best husband ever, and he does so much better than he can admit to himself. But his sister confuses the issue. His therapist has done wonders helping him deal with the dichotomy, but he still feels somehow responsible for everything, including the baby."

Mark was overwhelmed with guilt after the miscarriage. First, his illness had nothing to do with the loss, despite encouragement to the contrary by the oncologist. Gina’s cousin Linda was not only an OB/GYN, but her specialty was in fertility issues, and she had explained that it was not uncommon for a couple to lose their first pregnancy.

When Mark was able to accept that, he still dealt with feelings of guilt regarding his other persona, believing that God might be punishing them. He knew that wasn’t the case, but it remained difficult for him not to lapse into that kind of thinking.

"I got some news, but I’m afraid to share it with him, and no…I’m not pregnant,"
Erica said, noting Gina’s widening eyes. "And yes, I’m ok…we’re ok. We still enjoy each other, and if that’s what to expect right now, we’re fine."

"So what could be so difficult that you’re scared to tell him?" Gina was not making light of Erica’s dilemma, but her tone served to lighten Erica’s burden.

"The British publisher wants to commission a new set of books, almost like kids’ reference, but still fiction."

"And the problem with that is?"

"The publisher wants me more available. Phoning and e-mail apparently aren’t how they do things, and they want me to relocate for a few months. The promised me it wouldn’t be long, and they were willing to add housing as compensation. I’m just not sure, since…"

"Too many changes after a trauma or loss are contributing factors in depression and may prolong the grief process," Gina interrupted with her most professional voice.
"Frankly, I’m ready for a change. It’s only a few months, and you and my mom and Mark’s mom are just an e-mail or phone call away."

"You’re not sure Mark can handle it?" Gina asked, already knowing the answer.

"This could be a great opportunity, but it isn’t worth it if it hurts him. He already feels inadequate, and I don’t want to make things worse."

"What do you think Maired would say?" Gina asked. Erica and Mark had made the decision to refer to his alter-ego by name. There was no disassociation or such, but it was less confusing that way, much as if an actor referred to himself occasionally by the role he was known for or enjoyed.

"That’s the problem. If I ask "her," will that threaten him? Oh, God…I can’t believe we keep talking like this…"

"Sweetie, if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that you are sensitive and caring enough to make the right decisions. Together you’ve dealt with a lot more difficult things than this, and I believe you’ll get through this just fine." Gina said earnestly. She tilted her head slightly and giggled.

"What’s so funny?" Erica asked, smiling nervously.

"Look at it this way. You can find out if Maired gets as airsick as Mark."

That afternoon at home…

"Honey, it’s a great opportunity. You can make face-to-face connections. You’ve gotta do this." Mark surprised Erica with his support.

"I’ve haven’t given him enough credit…he’s stronger than I believed," she thought to herself.

"I’ve got nothing keeping me here, and I’m actually getting over the whole school thing. I’m a pretty good teacher, and God knows something will work out."

Mark still found it hard to believe at times that things would work out, but he was determined to remain content and rest in his belief in God.

"Dave says that his London counterpart has assured him that we’ll be over there only three to four months. Marie said she’d keep an eye on the place while we’re gone, and we’ll get back way soon for next school year’s hiring."

Erica said, as she rubbed Mark’s back.

"Sandy at the Board of Ed said they would hire me back, contingent upon next year’s budget, and I’ve thought about private lessons, too."

"Then it’s a go?" Erica asked, looking sideways at her husband. Mark turned around and hugged Erica.

"It’s a go!"

Marie’s home…

"Are you sure this is going to work out?" Marie said, pouring another cup of coffee for Erica. Erica spent almost as much time visiting her mother-in-law as her own mother. Her own mom Diane was the kind of person that welcomed the friendship that she and her daughter both had with Mark’s mom.

"Is there something that you think might not work?" Erica said, being earnestly curious and not at all defensive.

"Well, there is the question about what do we do with Maired while you’re gone?” Marie had been introduced to her own long-lost "daughter" months ago, and had welcomed her as an important and integral part of her family.

"It’s only for a few months, and frankly, I think I’d miss "her" more than Mark at this point. At least I think so. Oh, Mom, I don’t know what to think."

Marie knew that Erica had been through a lot, and had gone through a period of “not knowing,” along with Mark, and they still were sorting out all the feelings through the confusion.

"I think Gina’s right. You need to ask Maired how she feels about this."

Erica nodded reluctantly and said, "I think you’re right, but that’s one conversation I’m not ready for…."

At home later that afternoon…

"You do know I love you," Erica said as she ran her fingers through her husband’s hair. The couple had this particular conversation almost on a weekly basis. She had found herself attracted to Maired, and she was concerned that the relationship with her threatened her husband. Once again, she struggled with the confusion wrought by how to deal with their relationship in light of Maired’s continued presence in the home.

"Before you go any further," Mark said with a laugh, I really enjoy you grooming me, but whenever you stroke my hair, it means you want something or you have to tell me something or…whatever. So, let’s just cut to the chase."

"Do you think Maired will get along ok while we’re gone?" She tried not to laugh, but was unable to suppress a giggle. "Or do you think she’s going to want to come along?"
Mark looked at his wife, puzzled. "I….I don’t know."

"Now, let me say something…don’t interrupt me until you’ve heard me through"

"Oh…kay." He said, eyeing her nervously.

"We’ve talked about what ifs, and one of the things we talked about is where Maired fits in the grand scheme of things."

"A…and?"

"You told me once that you wanted to give Maired an opportunity to…how do you put it….get to know the world outside."

"No…no, I don’t think that’s such a good idea."

"It’s not as if you couldn’t pull it off," she said, stroking her husband’s hair.

"It’s not just that….I don’t want to….she can’t be the center of attention here. This is too good an opportunity to indulge in….I don’t want to jeopardize…"

"Honey….it’s not selfish….well, it is…I want you to. Maired can accompany me…she is your sister, and she could be a big help to me. I can handle all the publishing stuff, and I guarantee we’ll have a lot of free time to explore…England….The British Isles. You know we could always make that trip to Ireland to visit where you Kiernan’s came from."

"It’ll never work," Mark said. "And what if we’re found out? That not only will bring the trip to a grinding halt, but your writing career as well."

Truth be told, it could work. Mark was a good looking guy, but he had one of those enigmatically beautiful faces that would grace a woman as well. And likely as not, most eyes would be on his even more attractive companion. Mark, as has been written before, bore a strong resemblance to the redheaded detective on the Criminal Intent show, or as the Kiernan’s said, that "Julianne Something" girl.

Erica, on the other hand, looked like a brunette version of Laura Dern. Her brown hair was blessed with great auburn highlights and dappled sparsely with gray, which only served to frame her gorgeous face. The lovely redhead would not be ignored, to be sure, but all the attention would be focused on Erica.

And Maired’s reluctance aside, it really was something that Mark wanted, perhaps with some fear and understandable confusion, but something he wanted to explore, nonetheless.

"It can work, sweetheart. Just think about it. If you still find it won’t work, we can just get together with Maired when we get back from England. OK?

Philadelphia International Airport…a few days later...

"All departures for Heathrow, Please board at Gate 17," the overhead announced. The attractive brunette rose from her seat at the Club bar. She wore a dark grey pant suit with a burgundy silk blouse. She picked up her purse from the bar and started to walk toward the exit."

"Come on…this is going to be great!" She said as she gestured toward the door.

Still seated at the bar was a very attractive woman, likely in her late twenties. She wore a dark gray skirt suit with a forest green silk blouse, which set off her red, albeit, short hair.

The brunette walked back to the bar. As the redhead was leaving a tip, the brunette leaned over and whispered in the woman’s ear, singing softly, "Come fly with me, come fly, let’s fly away…."

Questions…

Their hotel that evening…

Erica sat back on the bed, laughing.

"You should have seen the look on your face when the girl asked, 'Do you have anything to declare, Mum?'" Erica said in a reedy, nearly adolescent English accent.

"It's not that funny. If she 'made' me, our trip would have been over real quick," her companion said nervously as she was unpacking their bags."

"Look at yourself. What do you see?" Erica got up off the bed and walked over to the dresser. She stood side by side with her lover and looked in the dresser mirror.

“Someone fortunate enough to have a friend who expedited a new passport with ‘my’ name on it.” While their friend didn’t have connections, per se, Gina’s attorney (who also happened to be her father’s brother) had a friend who had a friend…

"Well I see two very attractive women on 'holiday,' as they like to say here. Granted, it's a working holiday for me, but from my vantage point, these two birds have got nothing to hide," Erica said gesturing at the women staring back at them.

Two very attractive women, both impeccably dressed; the brunette looked stunning in her dark gray pants suit, the image of a corporate professional. Her companion wore a dark gray skirt suit with a forest green silk blouse, which has been previously noted, set off her dark red hair.

"Your hands are soft and lovely to hold," Erica said as she grabbed her companion's left hand, kissing it softly. Long and nimble fingers blessed with the gift of music, she said as she gestured to the violin case lying on the bed."

"Stop that," the woman protested, trying to pull her hand away.

"A long slender neck that would make Grace Kelly jealous," she said as she nuzzled her lover's neck. "And adorned strategically with a gorgeous silk scarf," she said as she continued her attention to her companion's neck.

"Stop," the woman said softly, her protests failing to convince Erica at all.

"I see two women desperately and completely in love. No crime in that," she whispered in her lover's ear.

"Welcome to England, my Dear."

"My Dear" being her pet name for Maired, her lover, her best friend, and yes, husband.

"I think you're worried that you're too convincing. It's ok, Mark is safely tucked away, and we'll see him soon enough once this trip is over. There's plenty enough love to go around."

Maired felt uncomfortable, and truth be told, Erica's words hit the mark. She had serious doubts about accompanying Erica on her trip to England. Erica was working with a new publisher to launch a new series of children's books specifically aimed at the English market. A quick search on Google or Yahoo would reveal enough specific details to include in the books, but the publisher insisted that she work face-to-face with him and the illustrator here in England. The deal for the new series was promising, and she felt that she couldn't refuse.

What made it difficult was that she had almost insisted that Maired come with her, despite the fact that their stay in England might last over three months. Maired was worried that a protracted time with Erica might threaten Erica's relationship with Mark.

"Honey...I love Mark with all my heart, and there is nothing that will change that one bit. You needed to find yourself, and with what we've been through lately, I think that this can be a tremendous help for all of us." She ceased kissing her lover's neck and said softly in her ear,

"It's ok, Mark, I still love you."

The publishers…the next afternoon…

"I don't think this is very wise," Maired said as they stood in front of the building. "Wonder Books, Ltd," Erica said as they entered the lobby. "I wonder what they'll think of you." She teased as they walked to the receptionist's desk.

Both women were attractively dressed in similar pant suits. Erica wore dark gray silk with an ivory blouse while Maired wore dark gray with a pastel green blouse. Erica's new writing gig promised to open up her career even further. The publishers were new to the game, but had the backing of their parent company, a highly successful publisher in London and on the continent.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Kiernan, Mr. Covington is expecting you," the woman said as she gestured to the hallway to her right.

"I'll just wait out here," Maired said, looking nervously at the hallway before her."
"Nonsense...it would be rude to visit without introducing you. My bio indicates nothing about my personal life, other than Mark, my husband, so they know nothing else about me or my family. This will be a great time to gain some social skills. This is a perfect opportunity. Besides, I gather David Covington isn't the only good looking bloke at the firm.

"Maybe he's got a mate...we could double date." Erica quickly stopped teasing as she noted the ever-increasing redness spread across Maired's cheeks.

"I'm sorry, honey," she said sincerely as they stopped in front of the office door.

"I promise not to tease anymore," she said as she looked down the hallway. She saw no one, and leaning closer to Maired, she gripped her hand tightly and said softly. "I love you.

"See, silly, that wasn't so hard," Erica said as they drove to the apartment that the firm had rented for their stay.

"David was glad to meet you and Andrew as well."

Andrew Smith was the illustrator the publisher had recommended for the series, and his work was outstanding. Both women had been well received at their meeting. Erica had explained that her husband stayed home to attend to some family matters. The people at Wonder knew about Mark's bout with cancer, having heard the news from Dave, Erica's publisher in Philly. Maired was here to assist with story ideas, as she had become another sounding board for her sister-in-law, and would be a great help in Mark's absence.

Maired sat in the passenger sea of their rental car, watching the scenery whisk by, albeit from a new, left-side-of-the-road perspective. She was lost in thought, and barely was listening to Erica.

"Honey...it's going to be ok...I promise," Erica said as they drove up the drive to the house. She pulled up in front of the apartment and turned off the engine. Leaning over, she kissed Maired on the cheek. "I love you," she said softly and turned to exit the car.

"That's the point," Maired said, and Erica noted the tears in Maired's eyes.

"Which of me do you love?" Maired said as she quickly exited the car and entered the cottage. You might find, dear reader, that, like Maired, as much as you love your “her” self, you may feel torn, since you love your “him” self dearly, as well.

The next day…

"I'm sorry Maired can't be with us," Andrew said. "Long trans-Atlantic flights and she don't mix well, I presume."

"That's right." Erica lied. Maired remained at the cottage, more out of fear than fatigue. Erica had acquiesced to Maired's request only upon getting a promise that she would accompany Erica the following day.

"Pity..." Andrew mused, smiling wryly to himself.

"Oh go on, you coward." David said as he laughed. Turning to Erica he said, "He's quite taken with your sister-in-law, but hasn't the decency to admit it.

"Oh, God..." Erica thought to herself..."What have I done." Perhaps, dear reader, in her haste to encourage her Dear one, she may have moved too fast? She meant well, but we all know how intentions, however well-meant, can sometimes go wrong.

The Thai Square Restaurant that evening…

As they sat and drank their wine, Maired looked around nervously as people entered the restaurant.

"Will you stop?" Erica said. "Nobody knows us here, and besides, you look ok."

Okay being an attractive woman for all outward appearances.

"You look more than fine. As someone once said, "You're a dem fine gal!"

"I want to go back to the apartment...can't we get take out?" Maired said, wishing she could crawl under the table.

"No, we are not going back, and that's final. We haven't had a night out in ages, and I want to spend some time in a nice, romantic setting with you. If I weren't sitting across from you...me, the most attractive woman in the restaurant," she laughed and continued.

"You would turn heads. You are lovely, my Dear, and while I do not wish to return to the cottage just yet, I am looking forward to when we do."

In this day and age, two women making eyes at each other in a nice restaurant would not evoke much attention. Maired, nevertheless, felt uncomfortable throughout their meal, and hardly ate at all. She continued to be anxious for several reasons. First, she was worried about how she appeared in public. She needn't have worried, since most of the crowd was paying more attention their own company. Second, she had not been out in public for this long since she first arrived at the Kiernan household, and was struggling with her new-found social skills. Thirdly, and most important, she was concerned that Erica would grow accustomed, even comfortable, with their relationship, and where would that leave Mark.

Erica had toyed with the idea of telling Maired about her illustrator's remarks, but thought better of it. "I promised not to tease," she reminded herself, more interested in Maired's feelings than the commitment she had made.

"I'm sorry if this has been difficult. I don't want you to be uncomfortable the entire time we're here, so I'll take it slower. You don't have to come tomorrow, I'll tell them you're still recovering from the trip," Erica said as she turned off the bedside lamp. "We'll take it slow, honey...I promise. Now," she said as she drew closer, "Give us a kiss, luv." And she did.

The apartment…the next morning

Maired was sitting at the bay window overlooking the garden, reading her Bible. True to her promise, Erica had gone to the meeting alone, allowing Maired to remain at the cottage. She picked up her cup of tea and began to sip when the doorbell rang. She arose from the chair and walked to the front door. Opening it, she discovered a young lady standing on the doorstep with an oblong box in her hands.

"Begging your pardon, Miss. Are you Miss Maired Kiernan?"

"Yes," Maired replied as she eyed the package nervously.

"Will you sign for this, please?" the girl said, handing Maired a clip board and pen.
Maired signed the form, and accepted the package from the girl.

"Have a pleasant day, Miss," the girl said as she walked back to her van.

Stepping back inside, Maired looked at the package in her hands again. Opening it up, she pulled back the green tissue paper, revealing a single, long-stemmed red rose. An envelope fell out of the box and onto the floor.

"There must be some mistake," Maired said to herself, retrieving the card. The envelope read, "Miss Maired Kiernan."

She opened the envelope and pulled out the card. It was written by hand, saying,"

"I enjoyed meeting you the other day. I look forward working with Erica and you. Welcome to England."

At the bottom of the card, the signature read, "Andrew Smith"

More Questions

That evening…

"Oh, that's so sweet," Erica said, suppressing a giggle.

"It's not funny...not at all," Maired said as she paced nervously by the table.

"Aren't you going to put it in water?" Erica asked, pointing to the single red rose in the box on the table.

"I mean it, it's not funny!" Maired raised her voice, which would be as loud as most people when they are speaking in a normal tone. Maired was not a forceful person. In fact, she was quite shy. Erica walked over and patted Maired on the shoulder.

"I know, but you have to admit...it certainly demonstrates that your fears were unfounded. Now come to bed, My Dear, and we can talk about what I find so attractive in you myself. No worries...Ok?"

Erica would find out just how wrong she was. David Covington, the head of Wonder, her publisher, had an ulterior motive when he invited Erica to come to London. Her photo on the book jackets did her little justice, but even then he found her quite attractive, and he was not in the least concerned about whom he might hurt if he followed through with his plan to seduce Erica.

To be sure, she was a very attractive woman; gorgeous would be an understatement. But she loved her husband more than anything in the world, and besides, she was in another committed relationship as well. She and Maired arrived in London with the idea that along with the arrangements the new series of books she was to write, she and Maired would explore the new world Maired was about to discover. But again, David Covington had other plans.

A few days later…

"It's been six days, and you haven't returned to the office," Erica said as she pointed to the door.

"I don't care...I can't go back there, and you know why. It's one thing to...be myself with you. It makes me angry that you don't understand that. I don't want to be around that, and I'm surprised you can put me through this."

"Fine, you know...it's just as easy to get this book deal done by myself, and...Well, frankly, I'm just about maxed out holding your hand all the time," she shouted as Maired retreated down the hall. She regretted her words even as they left her mouth, but Maired was already hurt.

"Honey, I'm sorry...I am so sorry." She knocked on the door, but Maired had locked it.

"I'll go home....I'm sorry. You are right. I have been such a burden, and you don't deserve this at all." Maired spoke from the other side of the door. Erica turned to walk away when she heard the lock open.

"It's ok...really...this was a bad idea. I'll be alright. Go to your meeting. I think I'd better fly home early. It's great that you have this opportunity. We can talk when you get home this evening." She walked up to Erica and hugged her.

"Go ahead, hon...I'll be alright," she said as she walked Erica to the car. One might think Maired was acting like a martyr, but nothing was further from the truth. She, or rather, he, was convinced that it had been a bad idea to accompany Erica in his Maired persona, and perhaps it was best to retreat home to prevent anything else from going wrong. It would be better if Maired didn't spend as much time with the Kiernans; here or back home. She'd leave in the morning; she'd have to, since Mark's passport was back home on the bedroom dresser, and the only clothes available were decidedly feminine. Perhaps you’ve felt the same way as Maired? I know I have.

A while later at Wonder…

"Hi, David...sorry I'm late. Maired still is feeling poor, and I'm afraid we had a row just before I left" David sat across from her at his desk, smiling. He was a tall, handsome man, and his personality was rather imposing.

"That's quite alright, Erica. We'll have to postpone our meeting until tomorrow. I tried to phone you up, but you had already left. Andrew had an errand to run, and he won't be available, so mores’ the better for us?"

"I don't understand, David, what do you mean?" Erica asked.

"Oh, come now, don't play coy with me, you know what I'm talking about."

David Covington had no clue. He was arrogant and demanding, and he actually believed that Erica wanted to explore a relationship with him. She, on the other hand, was not naive, but missed his signals entirely throughout the negotiations by phone. It was only now that it dawned on her. She would have felt complemented save for two important facts. First, and foremost, she, as I’ve explained previously, was madly in love with her husband. They had been together for nearly twenty years; first as friends and then much more as time unfolded. Despite the new wrinkle in their relationship that would have daunted most women. And she loved him...God she loved him...and her.

Not nearly as important was the fact that David Covington, she discovered, was a supreme jerk. No amount of money or promises would change that. She hadn't signed any contracts yet, so, as far as she was concerned, she would be flying back home tomorrow with Maired.

At the same time back at the apartment…

Maired, still being "herself" sat at the kitchen table, drinking tea. She was dressed in slacks and a blouse, which under most circumstances would not appear terribly “sexy.” She was about to find out how wrong she was as well. She was lost in thought, trying hard to sort out the myriad of emotions she was dealing with when she was interrupted by the doorbell. Rising, she walked toward the door, thinking to herself, "God, I hope that isn't the florist."

Opening the door, her fears were not confirmed, but they paled in comparison to the shock she felt when she saw who was standing at the doorway.

"Hello, Miss Kiernan." Standing in the door way was Andrew Smith...yes, the same Andrew Smith who had sent the rose...the same Andrew Smith whom Erica had explained was looking to get to know Maired more.

"Hello, Mr. Smith...thank you for the flower. It was kind of you to think of me."

Anything short of slamming the door was just an invitation for him to come in, but before she had the chance, Andrew stepped through the doorway, closing the door behind him.
"Please, call me Andrew." He insisted. Maired wanted to call him something else entirely.

"And may I call you...Maired?"

Meanwhile at Wonder…

Erica sat in the lobby, crying. Margaret, the receptionist was standing next to her, offering a tissue.

"Now don't you worry, hon...Frankly, I'm surprised the firm keeps him on...He's such a prat ...How do you Americans say it?"

"Jerk," Erica said as she dried her eyes.

"Right...Jerk. Well, you're not the first woman he's tried that with," she said, referring to the embrace and kiss that sent Erica down the hall to the safety of the lobby.

"Although I might say you are the prettiest...well, let's just say you are way above his pay grade...He's done it now. And an editor of children's books, to boot. He ought to be ashamed of himself."

"I don't know what to do...he's my only contact at the firm, and I..."

"Don't you worry about a thing. Mr. Sinclair is his boss, and I'm sure he'll make things right. Just you pop home and I'll call Mr. Sinclair straight away."

Back at the apartment…

"I'm not interested, Andrew...Mr. Smith," Maired said, walking around the kitchen table, trying to avoid his advances.

"Nonsense...I knew the minute I laid eyes on you that you were the one for me. Classic Irish beauty and I could tell you had eyes for me, as well." As deluded as Covington was, Smith was even more so. While he lacked the superficial sophistication of Covington, he made up for it with charm...at least he thought so. He was, as they put it, "a legend in his own mind."

Maired took a wrong turn and found herself cornered between a chair and the range. Andrew took another step closer and, without warning, took her in his arms and kissed her. Maired was flooded with emotions. She was confused and even felt an oddly warm sensation on her cheeks, which she quickly realized was caused by the rush of blood to her face. She had only kissed three people on the lips in her entire life; her mom when she tucked her in when she was little, her sister when she said goodbye just before she died, and Erica. This was an affront to those memories, and she grew angry.

Angrier than she had ever been. With a voice totally uncharacteristic and forceful, yet still decidedly feminine, she pulled away, slapped him hard on the cheek, saying,

"Get the hell out of here, MR. SMITH.

Erica had just parked the car when the front door to the cottage flew open.

Andrew Smith emerged, his ego marginally intact. He was rubbing his cheek, which bore the imprint of a hand.

"That sister-in-law of yours is a real spitfire. Tell her she doesn't know what she's missing!" With that he stormed off down the street where he had parked his car.

Erica walked through the open doorway and looked around. Maired was sitting at the kitchen table. Erica walked up to her and sat down. She could see that Maired had been crying. Maired noticed her and looked up.

"I'm so sorry...I don't know what I did...you know I'm not like that," she sobbed, pointing to the open door.

"Not like....oh, honey, I know," Erica said, patting Maired on the hand. "No, no, no...I know you're...." She paused and squeezed Maired's hand tight. "I know."

"But he...I tried...he..."

"It's ok, darling...I'm here now and I know..."

The two looked at each other, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

Erica noticed that Maired's lip-gloss was smeared. Not knowing what to say, she pointed at her own mouth.

"Looks like we both had an interesting day," she said, laughing softly but nervously.

"Wh...what?" Maired asked as she uncharacteristically wiped her face with her sleeve."

"It seems that we both had a 'close encounter.'" She laughed; this time out of the silliness of the moment. Soon both women were laughing, probably the most laughter either had enjoyed in a very long time. They enjoyed each other’s company the remainder of the day and well into the night.

The following afternoon at the apartment…

"Thank you, Mr. Sinclair. Yes, that's fine. I looked at the contract, and I find it more than satisfactory. Yes. Please thank your receptionist for me. Yes, oh, really? That's great news. Well, thank you again. I'll have an outline to you by the end of the month. Yes…Thank you...Goodbye." Erica clicked off her cell and turned and faced the window seat where Maired was seated.

"You'll never guess ....Sinclair fired both Smith and Covington. He's brought in a great editor from his parent firm, and we've got a deal for two books with the possibility of more. And he made Margaret...you know, that sweet receptionist…He made her office manager and gave her a raise!"

"That's wonderful news, honey. I'm so glad this worked out for you," Maired said. She was genuinely happy for Erica, but her own concerns dampened her efforts to be more enthusiastic."

"It's great for us, sweetheart," she said. Sure, this turned out to be somewhat of a circus and all, but on the whole, I believe it was the right idea to come here."

"I don't understand. We just wasted two weeks in another country making the same deal that you could have made over the phone. And if that weren't enough..." Maired looked away, which was a habit of hers that would have annoyed anyone but Erica.

"Maired Kathleen Kiernan...you stop that at once. I am so proud of you...I am.

You faced your fears and lived to tell about them. I love the person you are becoming, and nothing has changed that.

You have done as much as is humanly possible to support me in a difficult situation, and frankly, I think it's time we had a celebration." With that, Erica walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. She pulled out a bottle of champagne and grabbed two wine glasses from the cabinet.

"Sinclair said we have the apartment for the rest of the month...no hurry." Erica walked up to Maired and handed her the glasses and the champagne. "Here, honey, would you mind?" She said and started to walk down the hall to the bedroom.

Maired was shocked to see Erica disrobing as she walked. She dropped her blouse on the floor, and stepped out of her skirt. Kicking off her shoes, she continued to pad down the hallway, dressed only in her lingerie and stockings. She walked into the bedroom and started to close the door. Just before she disappeared, she poked her head back through the doorway, looking like a playful child playing peek-a-boo.

"Maired...honey...would you be a dear?"

"Yes," Maired said softly, as if she had any other tone at her disposal.

"Would you mind asking your brother to come to bed?"

And both Maired and Mark smiled; you may have smiled like that at one time or another yourself?

Hope Never Fails

Several weeks later…on the way to Ardmore Park Cemetery…

The mini-van proceeded up the drive to the gate. The sound of "Treasure" by Iona filled the van. The four women made this trip once a year, at least three of them did.

"Just pull in and park on the other side of the fence," the man said, gesturing to the lot.

"Thanks," Gina said.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" Erica said, gesturing to the case on the side beside them.

"As ever was," Maired said in the best brogue she could muster. "I owe this much to her. After all, if it weren't for her, I really wouldn't be here at all," she said.

"Tis true, tis true," Erica said, mimicking Maired's faux brogue. The other two women nodded in agreement.

"I'm glad Mark visited yesterday," Marie said. "She meant so much to him, and it's the first time he's been up to visiting since he got sick." Mark was Marie's son. He and Erica, his wife, had dealt with and overcome his bout with cancer. Marie was surprised that he wouldn't be accompanying them today, but considering the circumstances, it was understandable. She'd touch base with him tomorrow, perhaps.

The women got out of the van and walked over to the grave site. They stood in silence, gazing down at the simple bronze marker. It read, "Maura Grace Kiernan, 1981-1997, Beloved Daughter, Sister, and friend. Job 19:25."

The significance of the scripture was not lost on the women. Marie had fought and overcome breast cancer. She had been widowed when her children were in middle school, her husband Pat passing suddenly. He had been an alcoholic for most of his life, and was in recovery when he died, making his own victory bittersweet. Her daughter Maura had fought cancer and lost, at least in the physical sense. Her passing had been one of joy and hope, despite the disease that finally claimed her life. Her son also fought cancer, and had won, albeit with the doctor's caveat of "we're optimistic."

Certainly Gina and Erica knew the pain of loss as well. Both were the best friends of Maura. They had "taken turns" as THE best friend, as teenage girls often do, but really were as close to each other as they had been with Maura.

And certainly, Erica felt the sting of loss. She had suffered a miscarriage, which had been especially painful, since she and Mark had been cautioned during his recovery that they might not ever have children.

And Mark's continuing recovery remained tentative, as all who deal with cancer come to understand.

And while Maired knew of Maura through the other three, she had only come to know her after her passing. As you may know, Maired was born out of Mark's grief and loss. As Maura's twin brother, Mark had been understandably close, but uncharacteristically closer than most brother/sister fraternal twins. Not "Corsican," mind you. Their bond was not psychic as some explain. Rather, it was a love born out of their abiding faith in God as lived out by their mother, Marie.

The women stood in a semi-circle in front of the grave. Tears filled their eyes as they each thought of their own connection with the dear one they had lost. The circle broke as Maired reached down and picked up the case she had laid by the grave. Opening it up, she removed a violin and bow. Placing it under her chin, she began to play Handel's "I Know That My Redeemer Lives." As the music filled the air, the women wept, no more from grief, but rather from their mutual faith and a sense of joy.

As Maired played, she was able to fight back her own tears, more to continue playing than to avoid the emotion of the moment. She would cry when her music was done, but for now, she was determined to continue her homage to Maura and to God.

When the music finished, the other three women moved to embrace Maired one by one.

"I am so proud of you," Marie said as she kissed Maired on the cheek.

"Love you, sweetie...God bless you." Gina said as she embraced her friend.

"I love you, My Dear....Maura would have been so overjoyed and proud..." Erica said, as she, too, kissed Maired on the cheek. She paused, as if in thought. She hugged the woman, leaned forward and kissed her again on the cheek and whispered in her ear,"

"I love you so much, my sweet, darling husband."

They were quiet on the ride back to Marie's house. The experience, while one of great joy and emotion, nevertheless drained them. As the drive continued, Maired looked out the window of the van. She was lost in thought, thinking back to the day she was "born."

"Mark, honey, would you mind taking the clothes over to the thrift store? Betty is coming over for coffee. Okay?"

"Sure, mom," the teen said as he walked down the hall to the bedroom. He entered and looked around the room. It was simply decorated in the manner of any teenage girl you might know. The posters had been taken down, but the photos and the Manet print remained on display, examples of what the girl treasured. Family and expressions of beauty. Her cello and flute leaned against the wall by her dresser, unused for months. Music was important to Maura and her brother of course. They had learned that the music itself was meaningless unless dedicated to a higher purpose; their mother had seen to that. The girl loved her family and God more than her own life.

Mark walked over to the dresser. On it lay the usual things...brush, comb, a small jewelry box. Mark reached down and picked up a photo. Simply framed, it was a black and white picture of their family. It was a nice picture, not professional, but artistic nonetheless. The mother and father were seated on the sofa, looking back at their children. A boy and a girl, both of middle-school age, looked down with smiles that were genuine and un-posed.

Mark smiled at the photo, fighting back tears. He set it down almost reverently. His dad had died only days after they had taken the photo; Mark remembered with regret but not with bitterness, even though some might. He picked up the other picture on the dresser. The children had grown to high-school age. They were looking into the camera, making funny faces. Beside the two were their friends; two girls who were the sister's best friends. The picture, silly as it was, evoked more memories, and Mark lost his battle. He put the picture down on the dresser, put his hand to his face, and sobbed.

When the tears subsided, he looked down and found an envelope on the dresser, almost hidden by the girly paraphernalia. Picking it up, he noted the words written in script on the envelope. "To Mark," it simply read. He hesitated and then slowly un-tucked the flap. It was a note, written in longhand on a piece of notepaper.

"Dear Brother," it started. She had always referred to him that way.

"'I know that my redeemer liveth... '" It continued. I never thought I'd have to live this out. It's been hard on us all, but I think you have been saddened more than me. You'll be left behind, and it's harder than being the one departing in a way. Know that I love you deeply and I absolutely that you return the favor. Keep doing the right thing all the time.
I cannot say enough of how much I appreciate you, and I am so proud that you are my brother. Give Mom a kiss now and then for me, kay? Hope never fails...brother…remember that. Go mbeannaá Dia dui, Mo Bhrathair! God bless you, dear brother, Maura."

Once Mark had composed himself, he set about at the task at hand. Opening the drawers, he gently, almost reverently lifted the clothing and placed it on the bed. He then opened the closet, which still held the aroma of the lavender sachet hanging inside on the door. He grabbed the hangers and walked over to the bed, depositing the dresses and such next to the other clothing.

Returning to the closet, he gathered the remaining clothing. He used his foot to close the closet door. On the front side of the door was a long mirror. He saw the reflection of the figure holding the clothing. A simple green dress was on top, and it draped the figure as it worn. He stared at the reflection, and the figure in the mirror reminded him of Maura. The figure had dark red hair like Maura, albeit cut short like a boy. It was his reflection, but it wasn't.

He shook his head and quickly returned to the bed, depositing the load. Staring down at the clothing, he turned quickly out of the room, tears once again filling his eyes. They were tears of anger...not so much at his loss, but more so out of guilt and shame.

"Honey, what's wrong?" Marie asked even as she quickly understood. Mark walked into the kitchen, opening the fridge.

"Nothing, Mom...I'm okay," he said, embarrassed at his appearance in front of her company.

"Hi, Mrs. Sorrento." Betty was over for a visit. She had promised to look in on the family at the funeral, and true to her word, was here. Betty was Gina's mom, Gina being one of Maura's two best friends, the other being Erica McPherson.

Marie saw that Mark had been crying, and she immediately realized why.

"Oh, Mark...I'm sorry...I shouldn't have asked...It's too soon...I'm so sorry."

Turning to Betty, she said, "He was cleaning Maura's room."

Betty nodded toward Marie, noting Mark's embarrassment.

"I'm so sorry...it's okay, honey," Betty said. "Gina can't stop crying, but it's not just a girl thing. It hurts so bad, and I can't begin to know how much for you, sweetheart."

Betty's eyes had begun to mist. The girls had spent almost as much time at hers and Erica's house as the Kiernan’s, and it was like she lost a daughter as well.

Marie got up from the table and walked over. She grabbed Mark and began to hug him. Feeling all too vulnerable, he tried to push her away. She would have none of that, and hugged him tighter, saying,

"Marcus James Kiernan…" She softened her tone, and began to sob, evoking the same from her son. "Mark...she said softly through her tears, "It's okay, honey," as she patted him on the back gently.”It's going to be okay...I know...I know."

A few days later, Mark resolved that he was going to be a man about the whole matter, and walked down the hallway to finish cleaning the room. He entered the room and noted the pile of clothing, still on the bed where he had left them. His eyes were misty, but he was determined not to succumb to the grief he felt. He had brought a couple of boxes to pack the clothing, which he set about immediately. Placing a box on the bed, he began to take the clothing off the hangers.

Again, almost reverently, he folded the clothing and placed it in the box. He picked up the green dress and began to fold it. He stopped and allowed the dress to unfold. He bit his tongue and turned his head, trying to think of something that might distract him, but he couldn't. Taking the dress, he walked over to the closet. Standing in front of the door, he gazed at the figure in the mirror. The figure appeared tired and sad. The face looked a lot like him, but not enough, he thought.

"You've got to stop crying," he said, almost to the figure in the mirror as well as to himself. He shook his head once, trying hard to turn away from the image before him. He tried to move, but his legs stood fast. He shook his head again and bit his tongue. "Stop it!" He said again. He gazed at the mirror. The figure began to let the dress drape against....his body. The figure held the dress up, as if wearing it. The figure once again seemed familiar and yet not. He tried to move, but the image in the mirror remained standing before the mirror. He noted that the image was that of a pretty girl.

She had dark red hair like him and looked an awful lot like his sister, but she was different somehow. This girl's hair was extremely short, almost boyish, but still bore the features one might expect of an attractive girl of Irish descent, albeit with a tad of Italian thrown in for good measure. She seemed friendly enough, but her expression also displayed a shyness and insecurity. Mark had been shy and somewhat insecure, and maybe she could understand him. Maura understood him. Her compassion and understanding went far beyond that of a twin for a twin. She was a gift from God, sent to bless those she knew, even if for only a little time. God, how he missed her. Maybe this girl understood how he felt. Maybe she needed a friend.

Almost as if waking suddenly, Mark looked at his reflection in the mirror.

"No! No..." he said as he dropped the dress to the floor. His protest was out of shame, and he ran out of the room. He went into his room, and sat down on the bed. By now, he was crying and was almost glad that his mother was not home to hear him. He got up, closed the door and returned to the bed. Turning around, he buried his head in the pillow and wept. "I'm such....no....no." he cried to himself. What would Mom think...what would Maura think?" He cried until he could not stand it.

Eventually he fell asleep. When he awoke, he turned over. His hand banged on the nightstand beside his bed. Sitting up, he looked at the nightstand, as if to blame it for the pain in his hand. Lying on the nightstand next to the lamp was the note from his sister. He picked it up gingerly, thinking to himself, "What would you think of your brother now, dear sister," he said bitterly, but his eyes fell on the words she had written. "I am so proud of you." It read.

"Are you, Maura?" he argued. What happened next wasn't so much a spiritual experience in the true sense of the word.

It just dawned on him that his sister had loved him unconditionally. She knew of his insecurity and shyness. She knew that he felt that he would never measure up. She had reminded him that the only yardstick he had to measure up to gauged kindness, thoughtfulness and regard for others. He realized in that moment that he didn't need to be like anyone else. He wanted to be as kind and thoughtful as the most loving person he had ever known. He wanted to be like Maura. He knew he couldn't be like Maura. He began to weep bitterly, again feeling shame that was misplaced. A knock came at his door.

"Mark, honey, I went to the Chinese restaurant for take out." Marie said.

Mark got up from the bed, wiped his tears with his sleeve and opened the door.

"Oh, honey...." she said, noting the tears that his efforts failed to conceal. She stepped into the door way and hugged him.

"Don't worry about....I think it's best just to leave her room alone for now," she said, rubbing his neck. "It's okay, honey," she said, kissing him on the cheek. Her tears mingled with his as she said. "I miss her so much...we'll just have to lean on each other all the more." She kissed him again. "Come down when you're ready. No hurry." With that, she turned and walked down the hallway toward the kitchen. Mark wiped his face once again and stared across the hall. From his doorway, he could see into her room. Her closet door was still open and he saw the mirror.

A few days later, Mark sat in his living room; a book lay open in his lap."Mark," the entry said. "Warlike," the definition read.

"Warlike...I don't think so..." he said to himself. He began thumbing through the paperback book, exploring, wondering. It was a baby name book that his mother had since before he and Maura were born. Hesitantly, his hands opened the section for girl's names. He was embarrassed despite the fact that he was alone. He felt ashamed and yet compelled to look at the names.

"Maura…" he read. "Here we are. 'Gaelic form of Mary...Bitter?'" he said. "The sweetest person I ever knew..." he said to himself. He remembered that her namesake, you might recall from Sunday school, was anything but bitter as well, and that helped him understand a little. Continuing to thumb through the 'M's, he came across 'Margaret'. "Pearl," he said. "Gaelic...Mairead or Maired." "This is stupid," he said, angrily. He would have thrown the book across the room, but it wasn't his to abuse. He went to set the book down on the end table, but opened it once again to where his hand was still inserted. Looking at the page again, he read, "Maired."

He closed the book quickly placed it on the table and walked down the hallway toward his room. As he went to open his door, he could not help looking in the doorway of Maura's room. The mirror still remained in view. He walked into the room, planning to close the closet door. As he entered the room, he spied the clothes still sitting on the bed. The green dress was still on the floor in front of the closet where he had dropped it.

Nervously, he reached down and picked up the dress, planning to place it on the bed. He held it in his arms, and the image once again appeared in the mirror. He tried to turn, but once again his feet held fast to the floor. The girl stood before him as before as well. She seemed nervous and scared, but she smiled sheepishly at him. He smiled back, and she returned the favor once again. Her features softened, and he once was reminded of his sister.

"I am so proud of you," he recalled the note. "Hope never fails...." he remembered.

"Just like her," he heard himself say, and he saw that the girl in the mirror was saying the same thing. "Just like her."

A while later…

"Mark...Mark, could you come out and help me with the groceries," the figure heard from the kitchen. The figure looked in the mirror anxiously. Staring back was a teenage girl...pretty…about sixteen or so. She was wearing a green dress, which set off her dark red hair.

"Shhhh Sure Mom, I just got out of the shower. Leave them in the car, and I'll get them after I get dressed," the girl said as she quickly ran to the bathroom to change.

The present…Ardmore…Marie’s home…

The day was long, and the women had experienced the gamut of emotions. The van pulled into the driveway and the women got out. Gina walked around the van and hugged the women one at a time.

"Mom wanted you to know she's thinking of you," Gina said as she finished embracing Marie.
"She said Thursday's fine for coffee, but she'll call you.

"Sweetie, come on over tomorrow for dinner, okay?" Gina said, hugging her best friend Erica. "Rocco's probably dying to get out, so I gotta go," She said as she pointed to her car on the street. "Oh, and bring everyone," she said.

She winked once just before she drove off. "Everyone!"

Erica walked over to Marie and hugged her. "Love you, Mom," she said to her mother-in-law as she walked to her car. As she passed Maired, she squeezed her hand once.

Maired walked to the car and put the violin case on the back seat. She stepped back from the car, looking sad and lost.

Marie walked over to her and hugged her. She wanted to push Marie away and at the same time fall into her arms.

"I am so proud of you...both." Maired knew that while Marie was as proud as a mother-in-law can be of her daughter—in-law, Marie wasn't referring to Erica.
Marie pulled back and stared at Maired before hugging her once again. She kissed her on the cheek, saying softly, "I love all of my daughters and most of all, I love you....Mark.
Remember, honey...always remember…Hope never fails."

The End of the Beginning…

Kudos

Comments

hope never fails, indeed

a wonderful, moving story of two (three?) people navigating their way through difficult waters. With ups and downs, love and arguments - in short a real relationship portrayed. Thank you for writing this, and sharing it.

"Treat everyone you meet as though they had a sign on them that said "Fragile, under construction"

dorothycolleen

The Secret - the Novella

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hope never fails, indeed

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