Chapter Four: New Years Eve Party

Karen rushed home after work to change clothes and freshen up; Aaron suggested that perhaps Karen and he could go to a New Years Eve party being held by a youth group at his church, the First Presbyterian.

“There’ll be no liquor or beer then, Karen. I hope that’s OK,” he said.

“Of course,” she said. “I don’t drink, except maybe a glass of wine with mom or our neighbor, Harriet.”

Karen liked the idea of going to a youth group outing where she would be among other young people; it was so hard, she knew, for young people to party, since most places served liquor. And, she knew at being at a church function should protect her against untoward advances from Aaron. Even though he seemed unsure of himself with a woman, Karen still was worried that his normal sexual desires might cause him to put demands upon her.

Having been on her feet all day at the restaurant, Karen decided to wear flats, which she could carry in her purse. Since there was fresh snow on the ground, she had to wear boots to the dance, and she’d be able to change them when they get there. She dressed modestly, wearing black tights, a knee-length plaid skirt, white blouse and her colorful holiday-decorated vest. She draped a single strand of simple pearls about her neck, and brushed her hair so that it flowed freely. She put on a neutral-colored lipstick and no other makeup, other than a bit of foundation to take the sheen off her face.

Aaron was scheduled to pick her up at 11 p.m., and Karen finished dressing just a few minutes before; she joined her mother and brother as they watched the television coverage of the New Years Eve ball drop in Times Square. (New York was in another time zone.)

“Gosh, sis, you could be my date,” Sonny said. “You look like you belong in 9th Grade.”

“Now Sonny, quit teasing your sister,” their mother said. “I think she looks cute.”

“Yeah, like a little girl,” Sonny laughed. “Who is this guy, Karen? Is he old enough for a driver’s license?”

Karen blushed. “He’s a year old than me, Sonny, and it’s OK for a girl to look younger. Hah!”

*****
Just then the apartment alarm buzzer rang, and Karen spoke into the intercom and buzzed her date in. She hurriedly, put on her parka, boots and wool cap, so that Aaron would not have to spend too much time under the scrutiny of her family, particularly the prying Sonny, who seemed to be taking almost a prurient interest in her sister’s dating practices. Earlier Sonny had criticized her for accepting a date with Aaron, since he considered she was being disloyal to Mark; because of Mark’s football hero status, her brother had made the young quarterback his idol and felt his sister should “save herself” for him. Karen assured both her brother and her mother that she was totally in love with Mark and that the date with Aaron was merely platonic since the young man was truly “nice” and sort of lonely.

The basement meeting room at First Presbyterian was echoing with the noise of 1960s and 1970s era music when Karen and Aaron arrived. Perhaps 50 young people (most appearing to be in high school) stood around, some wearing the silly coned hats and leis that were typical of New Years’ Eve events; perhaps a dozen were dancing to the music supplied by a scruffy-looking young man who was handling DJ duties. The beige tiled floors and painted concrete block walls caused the music to bounce and echo back and forth, causing a terrible din forcing conversations to almost become mouth-to-ear.

As might be expected, there were more girls than boys present. About a dozen young people were dancing to a slower Led Zeppelin tune, with only two of them being boys. Most of the boys were gathered in a clump at the far side of the room.

“Hi Aaron,” a pretty, but obviously very young teenager, said as he entered, easily recognizable as perhaps the tallest person in the room.

“Hi Sherry,” he said, turning to Karen, adding, “Karen, this is my cousin Sherry.”

“And who’s your lovely girlfriend, Aaron?” the girl replied her voice taking on a teasing tone.

Aaron reddened, and stammered: “Ah . . . this is . . . ah . . . just a good friend, Sherry. Meet Karen.”

“Nice meeting you, and you have a real nice party going on here,” Karen said, hoping to put Aaron at ease.

“Yes, Sherry was co-chair of the youth committee that put this on, and she’s only 15,” Aaron said.

“Just following in your footsteps, cous’. Aaron ran this committee all through high school,” the girl smiled.

She wore no makeup as far as Karen could see, and wore a pleated dark skirt, topped off with a light blue cardigan sweater over a pink blouse with a high collar. Despite her simple attire, Karen saw a natural beauty in the child-like girl she saw before her. She was soon whisked away by a pimply-faced boy with short blonde hair to dance.

It was quickly apparent that Aaron was most popular among the young people as young person after young person stopped by to say “hi,” and, perhaps, Karen thought, to find out just who he was. Karen felt she and Aaron may have been the oldest persons in the room, except for about a half dozen older people who were either parents or chaperones or both.

“So glad you could make it, Aaron,” an authoritative male voice sounded.

Karen turned to see a pink-faced, roundish older man with a chubby women.

“Oh Pastor, I am, too, and we’re sorry we’re late, but my friend, Karen, didn’t get off work ‘til 10 tonight,” Aaron said.

“That’s fine, Aaron,” the pastor said, his eyes focusing closely upon Karen. “You need make no excuses, young man.”

“Karen, this is Pastor Wheeler and his wife, Madeline,” Aaron said.

The pastor took Karen’s offered hand, and looked for an instant as if he would bend over a kiss it; instead, the pastor gently held her hand and then passed it off to his wife. All the time, Karen could feel his eyes examining her, making her uneasy.

“Nice meeting you,” Karen said.

The pastor guided Aaron to the side, while Madeline Wheeler sought to engage Karen in conversation. Karen had to strain to listen to the woman as the music blared, all the time wondering what Aaron and the pastor were discussing. Their conversation appeared to be earnest, almost heated at moments.

“Where do you work, dear?” the pastor’s wife said, obviously asking the question to hopefully draw Karen’s attention away from her husband’s discussion with Aaron.

“Oh, I’m just home from college for the holidays, but I’ve been working at the Olympus since I was about 16, and I work there for extra money when I’m home,” she explained.

The woman continued to probe Karen about her studies, her family and even asking if she attended any church, suggesting that Karen consider attending the First Presbyterian. Finally, Aaron broke away from the pastor and returned to Karen.

“May I steal Karen from you for a dance Mrs. Wheeler?” he said, his voice tense.

The woman nodded an assent, which Aaron didn’t acknowledge, literally dragging Karen onto the dance floor to begin dancing to a rock tune.

*****
“I’m not much of a dancer, Karen, but I had to get away from that narrow-minded, old . . . ah . . . I’d like to use a cuss word now, but . . . damn . . . that ol’ bastard.”

Karen almost wanted to laugh at the boy’s discomfort; it was obvious that he was one of those rare young men who sought to behave gentlemanly and within Christian traditions. Yet, she sensed he was terribly angered by his conversations with the pastor.

“Aaron, what happened with him?” Karen asked, drawing close to him as they stumbled through the dance. It was apparent neither of them was particularly experienced on the dance floor.

“My sister, thinking the pastor would understand, told him about you, that you were a boy,” he said.

“What? Why would she do that?” Karen asked.

The music grew louder, and Aaron said, “I’ll tell you later. For now, let’s try to dance and I’m sorry I’m a lousy dancer, but I haven’t done much dancing.”

“That’s Ok,” she said. “I’m just as bad.”

They both got progressively more comfortable to the Pink Floyd piece with a moderately fast-tempo, adapting to the rhythm, perhaps indicating that both of them — even with their relative inexperience at dancing — may have some latent musical talent. While she was enjoying the dance, Karen couldn’t stop worrying about the pastor’s reaction.

*****
As they turned together, Karen was shocked to see the face of Hillary Ann Garland, who graduated from the same high school class that Karen had. Karen seemed to notice a momentary flash of recognition show on the other girl’s face; Hillary, a heavily built girl with thin light brown hair, was dancing with an overweight boy whom Karen didn’t know. Karen’s and Hillary’s eyes met, and both quickly diverted their glances.

Karen tried to steer her partner to move to the other side of the dance floor to avoid any further confrontation with Hillary. As they moved, Karen saw Hillary say something to her partner, which looked like “I think I know that girl” if Karen’s lip-reading skills were any indication. She worried that it would be only a few minutes before Hillary might realize that Karen might actually once had graduated as Kenny Hansson from high school. Then what?

The music ended, and the DJ announced, “It’s three minutes to countdown and the start of 2013. Everyone get your hats on and your kazoos ready to go.”

The music, “As Time Goes By,” a sentimental ballad from World War II days filled the room, and Aaron took Karen’s hand, leading her to their table, where they both donned the goofy coned hats and tested out their noise-makers.

“Can we join you here?” a boy’s voice sounded off, and Karen looked to see Hillary Ann and her dancing partner approach their table. Since there were empty chairs at the table, they could hardly refuse.

“Sure, Hillary,” Aaron said. “You and your friend are welcome.”

It was apparent Hillary must have been a member of the youth church group in which Aaron had long been a participant.

“Karen,” Aaron turned to her. “This is Hillary Ann Garland, who’s a member of the group here, and Hillary this is my friend, Karen Hansson.”

Hillary smiled, and introduced her friend as “Marty Evenson,” announcing that she and Marty met at the local community college where they both were studying nursing. Karen was struck by the similarity of the two, particularly the fact that each had a soft, smooth double-chin.

“Oh Hansson?” Hillary said eagerly. “I graduated from Lincoln a year ago with a Kenny Hansson. Are you any relation? You must be, dear, you look so much like him.”

“Yes, we are,” Karen said quickly, hoping to avoid any further discussion on the matter.

Aaron, sensing the awkwardness of the situation, interrupted. “You’re cousins, aren’t you, Karen?”

It was an apparent effort on his part to give Karen a chance for an escape; yet, Karen feared it might just prolong the discussion, and might eventually lead to Hillary learning the truth.

“We’re sort of related, yes,” Karen said finally. He didn’t think it was a lie, but in reality it was a misleading answer.

“I always liked Kenny,” Hillary continued. “He was kind of quiet and not at all like other boys, who could be rude and such. I often hoped he might have asked me out, but no luck. But now I have the sweetest boy in the world in Marty here.”

Marty hugged Hillary and the two looked at each other with fondness.

“Whatever happened to Kenny?” Hillary persisted.

Before Karen could answer, the light in the room dimmed, and the music stopped, with the DJ’s voice booming: “Fifteen seconds to midnight. Pastor Wheeler has announced that when midnight comes, some short hugs are permitted, but no kissing.”

A big moan came up from the youth, along with a girl squealing “That’s not fair!”

“10 — 9 — 8 — 7 — 6.” Karen felt Aaron put his arm around her and draw her to him. He was so tall, she stood only as high as his neck.

“5 — 4 — 3 — 2 — 1” The traditional “Auld Lang Syne” burst into the room, and shouts of “Happy New Year” filled the room, accompanied by the racket from kazoos, clickers, whistles and other noise-makers.

Aaron hugged her, but made no further move. Looking over his shoulder, she saw Hillary and Marty steal a quick kiss. Soon virtually every other couple joined in violating the pastor’s rule. She looked up, and put her lips upon Aaron’s lips; their kiss lingered a bit and Karen felt the boy’s tenseness end.

She looked over at Pastor Wheeler, who seemed to say “what the heck!” He soon was seen kissing his wife.

*****
Mercifully, the dancing resumed and Aaron and Karen became separated from Hillary and her friend, sparing Karen further questions about Kenny Hansson. As they danced, Karen noticed that Hillary continued to look at her, sometimes even shaking her head as if wondering: “I wonder where I know that girl from.”

Aaron refused to tell Karen what Pastor Wheeler had said, stating only, “I’ll tell you after we’re out of here.”

“Maybe we should go, Aaron,” Karen suggested when the second dance began.

“Why? Aren’t you enjoying it?”

“Aaron, I’m just uncomfortable here. I liked it at first, but I don’t like how the Pastor and his wife keep looking at me. They both seem like I disgust them.”

Aaron pulled her tightly toward him as they danced to a slow ballad. “Don’t worry about him, Karen. I asked him to respect my friendship to you, and I think he does. And he won’t tell anyone.”

She rested her head on Aaron’s chest as they danced; she enjoyed how quickly the two had become comfortable dancing together. And, the music — being almost ancient by most standards — was relatively mild and comforting, adding to Karen’s comfort.

The dance ended at 1 a.m., with many of the younger participants being herded home by parents who had returned to pick them up. Hillary, who had been on the committee for the dance, had been busy in the last hour working at the refreshment counter, assisted by her new boyfriend. Karen was impressed how much the two seemed to be enjoying the chore, chatting with the youthful customers and assisting each other in serving the food and beverages.

At one point, Aaron left Karen at their table alone to get drinks. She sat there, primly holding her hands in her lap, looking out at the young people moving wildly to an upbeat, loud sound banging in her ears creating a cacophony of sound that seemed to block out even the ability to think. She felt the presence of someone sit down next to her and she turned to see Madeline Wheeler, the pastor’s wife, looking at her.

A pang of fear gripped Karen as the woman put a soft hand on her arm and leaned in, speaking directly into her ear:

“You’re very lovely, my dear, and I know my husband is quite disturbed about you,” she began. “Jim is really very liberal, but he’s also very strict about scripture and its meaning. We’re still grappling with all this gay and gender business, you know. I just want you to know that we hope you feel welcome here.”

Karen looked at the woman, wondering what her motives were. Was she trying to defend her husband? Or, was she sincerely interested in making Karen feel welcome? Maybe a bit of both, she decided.

“Thank you, Mrs. Wheeler, and I want you to know that Aaron and I are having a fine time.”

“I’m so glad, dear,” she said, her voice lowering in its volume as the music grew less intense. “Are you religious, dear?”

“I was raised Catholic, but must admit I don’t go to mass very other anymore.”

“That’s OK, dear. Aaron assured us that you’re a very caring and nice person and that you like to work with the elderly.”

Karen looked at the woman. She realized that as much as her transition from male to female had bothered Pastor Wheeler and his wife she was still regarded as “somewhat worthy” because of her own charitable and generous behaviors.

“I hope I am what Aaron says,” Karen said. “He’s such a sweet person.”

“Are you his girlfriend now?” Madeline Wheeler asked.

“Oh no, ma’am. We’re just friends. That’s all. I hope he eventually finds a nice girl.”

Mrs. Wheeler nodded her head, agreeably. Karen wondered if her acceptance of the situation meant the pastor’s wife was pleased that Aaron might not be committing a sin by having sex with Karen.

The music stopped just as Aaron returned with the drinks. “I’ve just been having a nice chat with Karen,” Madeline Wheeler explained, rising up to leave the table.

“Thank you, ma’am, for keeping her company. I was gone longer than I planned,” Aaron said.

*****
They sat together without speaking for a while, each sipping their Cokes and munching on peanuts that were placed on the tables.

“She figured out who you were, Karen,” Aaron said, his voice soft. He spoke with his mouth next to her left ear.

“What?” Karen turned to look at the boy.

“Yes, Hillary realized you were the Kenny she knew in high school.”

“Oh my God. That’s awful.”

Karen wanted to flea from the room. Aaron must have sensed her feelings since he instinctively placed a hand firmly on her arm.

“Don’t worry, Karen. She assured me it’s strictly a secret. She won’t tell anyone, not even her boyfriend.”

Karen sat stunned, forcing herself not to look in the direction of the refreshment stand to see Hillary.

“Let’s go, Aaron,” she said.

“No, not yet. I think we should have one last dance.” He arose taking the girl’s hand and leading her onto the dance floor.

Karen was momentarily angered with Aaron, but as they began to twirl about the floor, her comfort level grew. She was so pleased at the manner in which Aaron took command of the situation. As they danced, her eyes suddenly stared into the distant face of Hillary; the girl looked directly at Karen and gave her a smile and a thumbs-up.

Later as Aaron helped Karen on with her coat as they were about to leave, Hillary and Marty approached and said: “So nice meeting you, Karen. It’s been a pleasure.”

“Thank you, Hillary,” Karen said. “It’s nice seeing you again.”

With that Karen acknowledged her former role as Kenny. Hillary responded: “I think you’re very brave, dear. And, you’re so, so pretty, too.”

Karen nodded and then looked at Marty, saying: “I hope you appreciate what a nice girlfriend you have in Hillary.”

“I do,” he beamed.

Hillary said: “Karen, look, I’d like to see you again when you’re in town, if you’d like. You know, to do girl things together.”

“Sure, Hillary.”

The girl handed Karen a slip of paper. “Here’s my phone number and email address. Write me if you wish. Or text me, too.”

“I will,” Karen said, leaning over to kiss the other girl. It was a sisterly kiss.

*****
Later in the car, as Aaron dropped Karen off, the two talked for a bit.

“I hope you had a happy New Year’s Eve, Karen,” the boy said.

“The happiest ever,” she said, than added: “What was that conversation about between you and the pastor? He looked mad.”

“Oh don’t worry about it, Karen. Sometimes he can be pretty narrow-minded.”

“But why did your sister tell him about me?” she persisted.

“Claire gets some strange ideas sometimes,” he began. “She’s really quite liberal, you know, and is active in some gay rights group, even though she’s hardly gay.”

“I know she sounded that way when she drove me those times to and from the University. I like her, Aaron.”

He turned off the car’s motor, even though it was below zero that night. “We don’t want to get affxiated, you know.”

“You’re right, but it’s getting late and I should be getting in, but why tell him?”

“Well, Claire thought the pastor would understand, since he’s been outspoken on many liberal issues of the day, particularly in assisting the poor and in paying our fair share of taxes and all that. He was a leader in the civil rights movement in the 60s, too, and Claire must have thought he’d understand your situation.”

“Well, it’s obvious he didn’t,” Karen said. “It made for an uncomfortable night, you know.”

“I know, and I’m so sorry,” the boy said, his tone showing his sincerity. “I think Pastor Wheeler is moving up in the ranks of the church and is becoming more conservative in his old age.”

“What did he want you to do? Take me home?”

“No, he expressed disappointment in me and even pointed to the scriptures. He told me, ‘Aaron, if you’re going to be a minister some day you better know the Bible.’”

“Oh?” Karen said. “You want to be a minister?”

“Not really, though I have talked about it,” he said. “I like working with people and helping them out.”

“There are other ways, you know?” she said.

“I know, and I’m not sure what I want now.”

“You’re so sweet,” she said, “But I better go in now. Thanks for a lovely evening.”

“May I see you again, Karen?” he asked, almost in desperation.

“Aaron, you know I feel I have a boyfriend in Mark, but I want you as a friend. I really do.”

“He’s so lucky to have you, Karen. I hope he appreciates you.”

He finally kissed her in the lobby of the apartment building; it was a brief kiss, one between friends. It was a nice, sweet, soft kiss, one that expressed comfort, and Karen felt it was most satisfying.

*****
“Sis, he got right up. He wasn’t hurt. You can look now,” Sonny said to Karen.

She was curled up on the sofa on New Years Day afternoon watching Mark Hamilton and the Iowa State Cyclones in their major football bowl game.

On just about every play when Hamilton (who played quarterback) took the ball from the center, Karen covered her eyes, so worried that he’d get hit and hurt. He was an elusive quarterback, and easily the star of the team which had taken a surprising 21-10 lead over a heavily favored, top-ranked team. He had passed for two touchdowns and run for a third in the first half.

She felt a huge pang of fear when she heard the announcer exclaim: “Wow, did you see the hit that Hamilton took from Defensive End Gene Solokowski? That guy’s a monster. And there’s no flag. It was a legal hit, but Hamilton must have had his bell rung.”

“Yes,” the announcer’s sidekick said. “It’s obvious that the defense is keying on Hamilton after the young man hurt them so badly with his passes in the first half.”

“I can’t stand this, Sonny,” Karen said, beginning to cry. “He’ll be hurt for life. Why doesn’t he quit that awful sport?”

“Oh, sis. He’s strong and he’ll be OK. Look he’s huddling his team and calling the plays now. I have confidence he’ll win this game.”

She looked up, saw the camera focus momentarily on Mark’s face and recognized the boy’s strong determined expression. He developed that same expression in the Theater Summer Camp when things were going badly in rehearsals.

Karen watched as the team lined up for the next play. The Cyclones were in an almost hopeless third down and 18; yet the players ran to the line in a spirited way.

“Oh no!” Karen squealed, as she watched Mark get the ball again and fade out to the left, with three huge linemen in pursuit. She closed her eyes, hearing the crowd roar and the announcer said: “Hamilton lets it fly just as Solokowski hits him again.”

She covered her face as the crowd noise from the television set drowned out the announcers, finally hearing her brother Sonny yell, “Touchdown. Dammit, sis, you missed it all. What a play and what a pass from Mark.”

“How’s Mark?” was all she could say, still covering her eyes.

“I don’t know, sis. He’s still down and they’re looking at him.”

Karen buried her head and began crying. Her brother came over and comforted her as the television switched to a commercial.