Grand Island, Nebraska...
“Taryn…can you come here, please?” Alison called up to her daughter. Moments later the girl came bounding down the stairs.
“What’s up, Mom?” The girl smiled as she walked into the living room. Standing next to her mother was a boy of about her age.
“We've got company.”Her mother half-frowned. Taryn looked at the boy; he seemed timid and almost hid behind her mother.
“Oh, gosh, Jack…what are you doing here?” She tilted her head as if to seek some explanation for the boy’s presence.
“You told me to come around if I had any problems.” The boy shook his head slightly before looking down at the floor. She only then noticed the bruise under his left eye.
“Oh…shit.” She walked over and gently lifted his head with her hand; her efforts to spare him pain went for naught as the boy winced.
“Did he do this to you? Son of a…. Mom?” Alison stared at the boy before turning her gaze back to her daughter.
“Oh…damn, of course he can stay.” She sighed and walked into the kitchen; returning moments later with an ice pack.
“He….he said…no brother of mine....” The boy accepted the proffered ice pack and sat down on the couch.”
“We knew that was gonna happen, Jack…why didn't you....” She spoke as if he had done something wrong; certainly not her intent, but it felt that way just the same to the boy sitting before her. He began to sob.
“I’m sorry…Tar…I should have….” He struggled through the first few words before losing it altogether as he wept into the back cushion of the couch.
“No shoulds in this house honey.” Alison sat down next to the boy and held him in her arms.
“It’s okay….let it out. It’s going to be okay.”
“Yeah….Jack…I’m sorry…it’s not your fault…I didn’t mean to accuse you…I’m just so worried that the next time….”
“There won’t be a next time. Taryn…get me the phone.” The girl walked into the kitchen and returned with her mother’s cell phone.
“Hello? Yes…I want to report…yes…no, physical…he’s here with me now… yes…no….” Alison looked up and Taryn mouthed ‘older brother.’
“Older brother…as far as I know. We’re going to take him to the hospital…no…not a problem…My daughter and I will be happy to talk with someone there. Yes. I don’t mind…no…not anonymous… Alison Duplantis… yes… about fifteen minutes…okay.”
“We’ll take you to the hospital, okay?” The boy looked at her and shook her head. He cast his vision downward at his attire. He was wearing a hip-length green sweater over black tights and black flats. His longish hair was pulled back in a pony tail and his face was streaked with black marks from where the eyeliner had run.
"The tears actually will do some good." Alison thought sadly. The social workers might take her gender issues and might take the home problems more seriously.
“This isn’t the first time, from what Taryn has told me, honey, but it will be the last, I swear it.” Alison stood up and walked back to the kitchen. She reached over the chair and retrieved her belt and holster, buckling it quickly before retrieving her cap from the mantel over the fireplace.
“We’ll go to the hospital first. You can call your father from there and tell him you’ll be spending the night with Taryn and me if they discharge you. We’ll get things sorted out in the morning.
“Will they let you do that?” The boy asked softly, his head down once again. She walked over and lifted his head gently with her hand; the smile on her face as welcoming as the gesture as she said,
“Sweetie; I’m the Chief of Police here….I can pretty much do what I want as long as it’s legal and safe, and believe me; you staying with us for one night is both. Maybe we can do something about getting your brother some help.”
“Honey,” she said, turning to her daughter. Why don’t you bring something of yours for Jackie to change into after the hospital folks do their thing, okay? And get three Aquafina from the fridge. I’ll meet you at the car.
“Let’s go, okay…just so everyone knows it’s okay, you can sit up front with me, alright?” Alison walked the child out to her car; unmarked Crown Vic. She opened the front passenger door and ushered the boy inside. A moment later a silver Audi A6 pulled up and a man got out.
“Excuse me…Excuse me? That’s my son you’ve got with you… He’s coming home with me.” The man exclaimed.
“I’m sorry, sir, but you’re wrong on several points.” The man glared at Alison as she stepped around from the passenger side and stood in the man’s way.
“First; this is Jackie O’Donnell, right? Your child? Your child is the victim of domestic violence, and as such I am charged with her transport to the hospital and to report this both to social services and make a report of a crime.
“It’s between him and his brother…they were just rough-housing.” The man protested.
“No, sir…it’s not between him and his brother. It’s between the State of Nebraska and your son for physical battery. This wasn't rough-housing at all. Judging by the location of this bruise, sir, your son may have broken the socket, and she may need surgery. Either way, none of this is my call; I am bound by law to both report this and to see that this child gets medical attention. You’re welcome to follow me to the hospital, but if there are any previous complaints against your son, you may be looking at your daughter’s removal from the home.”
“Would you stop saying that? That’s my son, John Junior….Jack…his brother didn’t mean to hurt him.” The man was more frustrated than angry.
“Your son had every intention, according to your daughter, of causing physical harm, from what she told my daughter. Look at her face, sir. At this point it’s really going to be up to the protective services folks about what happens next. Either way, I suggest you contact your attorney on your son’s behalf.”As she finished speaking, Taryn came out of the house with a gym bag and a Safeway bag filled with bottled water. She got into the back seat.
“Please don’t do this to my son…please...for God's sake, he's only sixteen.” The man pleaded with her. She half-frowned and spoke once more before getting into the car.
“I’m sorry sir; I’m not doing ‘this’ to your son; your son brought it on himself when he did this to your daughter. I suggest you keep that in mind for the sake of both your children. I am truly sorry, sir.”
“But….” The man put his head down and began to cry into his right hand, his left hand waving at his side as if he could shoo away the trouble.
“Sir…Follow me to the hospital and attend to your daughter’s needs. I’m sure we can work something out with the court for your son tomorrow or later this evening, after Jackie is squared away. Okay?”
Alison shook her head in frustration and got into the car and began to drive off. As the car pulled past the man he looked at the sad figure sitting in the passenger seat. The girl looked at him with the saddest expression he had ever seen. He blinked back some tears and shouted,
“I’m sorry, Jackie….I’m so sorry.”
He stood there and watched the car drive off before getting into his own car. A moment later he was off down the road on the way to the hospital.
Saint Francis Medical Center... Grand Island, Nebraska…
“What happened?” John O’Donnell looked at Jackie with a sideways glance and continued.
“What did you do?” He stared at the boy in front of him, for that’s what he chose to see. The child now appeared to be a normal fourteen year old boy; normal if you considered it normal to have a bruising and swelling so bad as to completely shut the left eye. Sadly, it wasn’t swollen enough to prevent the tears from literally cascading down her face…her.
“Daddy…he punched me…Jimmy punched me.” The girl sobbed.
“I know…what did you say? I mean he just doesn’t go around hitting you.” John shook his head as if his own view was obscured instead of his daughter’s. She picked up the extra pillow and held it in front of her face; ashamed and scared. The nurse stepped closer to her father.
“I’m sorry, but she’s getting really worked up. We can’t even X-ray at this point because of the swelling. She needs to rest while the swelling goes down. Why don’t you come back tomorrow morning?” She put her hand on his arm but he pulled it away; not angrily, but more out of frustration and helplessness.
“Mr. O’Donnell? John?” The voice was soft but firm, and the hand on his arm squeezed tightly as Alison led him from the room. He turned to protest, but the sight of her badge and the expression on her face made him think twice.
“It’s already been such a long day…why don’t you let me buy you a cup of coffee?” She asked. She turned and looked around. Taryn was in the waiting area with a couple of girls; by the look of her animated display, Alison expected that she was explaining to her friends what had happened. A second later she saw the girls hold hands; it appeared that they were praying.
“Listen…I’m sorry, but I don’t even know you.” John protested.
“I know…just a friendly gesture from one parent to another; and maybe some free advice?” Again John quickly discarded any idea of protest as Alison guided him to the elevator.
Downstairs in the cafeteria…
A few minutes later they were sitting at a table. Coffee had morphed into two helpings of Beef Stew with crackers and a couple of Cokes.
“I know this is hard, but please try to relax. We don’t have to solve everything in one day. Where’s your son?” She said it softly as a request.
“He’s over at his aunt’s….my sister Becky. Listen…I don’t know what came over him…Jimmy is a good boy.” He shook his head; the good part of his son certainly wasn’t in evidence this day. He wanted to believe his son acted just the once.
“Taryn says that Jackie has bruises on her arms. I don’t think this is a one-time occasion. Has Jackie complained?” She nudged.
“No more than any other brother complaining about being picked on. It’s been hard since their mother died, you know?” He half-smiled and took a sip of Coke. Alison nodded; it took all she could manage to suppress the ‘aha’ in the back of her throat.
“It’s not uncommon for children…boys especially…to act out after the death of a parent. I’m sure your children were close to their Mom?” She wasn’t sure of anything at that point other than that John O’Donnell was in major denial regarding both of his children.
“Oh yes…both boys….” He paused.
“Jackie has been acting odd since his mother passed. He goes into our bedroom and just stares at our wedding picture. I came home last week and he was just sitting on the bed, holding her bathrobe.” He sighed; the thought hadn’t occurred to him until that moment just how profound a symbol the robe had become to his youngest child.
“So both children sorely miss their mother. And you attribute that to Jackie’s gender issues?” Alison took a deep breath and continued.
“Do you suppose Jimmy is acting out of anger in response to his grief over the death of your wife?” She tilted her head slightly and leaned forward to listen.
“I suppose…but why did he hit…why did he….” He began to stammer when he closed his eyes; his inner eye beholding the figure of a frightened fourteen year old girl who might lose the sight of her left eye. He put his hand to his face.
“I am so sorry…this is all my fault. I should have taken him to a doctor…maybe this wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t been wearing those clothes.” He was beginning to open his eyes, but his ignorance, well intended as it was, made his vision just as suspect as his daughter’s.
“Jackie will need to see a doctor, I expect, but not for the reasons you may think.” Alison said with as much understanding as she could muster.
“Someone who can help him with the problem?’
“Not quite. Jackie is dealing with several issues at once, not least of which is that you have minimized your son’s anger against her. She seems to be the focus of all his anger. And she does have serious issues regarding her gender, but that isn’t a problem to be fixed…it’s a concern and a cry to be heard and listened to.” She put her hand on his wrist gently but firmly.
“John…Jackie says that Jimmy has been drinking heavily…do you keep any liquor in the house?”
“Not really…we had a couple of bottles of rum for mixing and well...I do keep beer in the fridge downstairs. I haven’t really been paying attention. You don’t suppose?” He shook his head and tears came to his eyes.
“It’s not uncommon for children to self-medicate. Between your own struggles and his needs, he’s probably done a really good job of hiding it.
“What can I do? He’s only sixteen…and it’s just his brother…oh shit…that’s wrong…I…”
“Like I said…we don’t have to solve everything tonight. You heard her doctor say that she was going to be admitted and kept overnight at least. The social worker hasn’t begun her investigation yet; she’ll be talking with me and my daughter, and I know she’ll be talking with you. At the very least, I know they’re going to recommend separation. Can Jimmy stay at his aunt’s for the time being?”
“I guess…sure. Why?”
“Because when your daughter returns home, Jimmy will likely only be able to be near her with supervision, and with you working there won’t be any guarantee. And in cases like this that I’ve been a part of, they try to reunite the child with the family as quickly as possible.”
“What about Jimmy?”
“There is a great deal of support available. Your son needs help. He’s acting out of grief and anger, and while it’s understandable, it’s also putting your daughter in jeopardy. I’m going to recommend to the judge that he allow Jimmy to enter the pre-trial intervention; he’s a minor and it’s his first charge…no… we’re not going to say first offense…you understand?” He nodded and she followed.
“The judge will probably recommend some community service, but the key is to get some help; there are some good programs for teens regarding anger management. I’m not sure he’ll be satisfied with that alone, but anything at this point beats going to detention. The goal is to help both children and reconcile your family, right?”
“Right….Chief Duplantis? What do I do about Jackie…I mean…when his mother died…I knew he was dressing up…I thought it was a phase. But…lately…just his demeanor…it hasn’t changed so much as me noticing it was….different all along. What do I do?”
“The social worker may put you in touch with someone; I think it would be helpful if you could arrange something on your own to show initiative? There are gender specialists in the county that can help her sort out her next steps. She’s going to need a lot of support.”
“You keep saying she. When I first saw Jackie in the car with you I was so angry…you were being so presumptuous with my kid, you know. But tonight…looking at …her for the first time. Even with all the makeup cleaned off…I didn’t see my son any longer.” He bit his lip and turned away.
“I think you’re dealing with more than just the loss of your wife here, Mr. O’Donnell. Take it one step at a time. Go up and see her. Don’t criticize her or correct her. Just listen. And if they think she’s well enough to handle it, give her a hug before you go, okay. As far as Jimmy goes, bring him by the station tomorrow morning. I’ll make sure the judge releases him to your sister’s custody. If Jackie is discharged, it might be a good idea for her to stay at home and for Jimmy to remain at your sister’s house until everyone is satisfied. You spend as much time as you can at home and visit Jimmy as often as you can. The court may even let you and Jackie visit together. This way neither child will view the separation as punishment, okay.”
“What about social services?”
“Well…some people think of them like we think of Velcro…they stick once they’ve been stuck on? They’re just doing their jobs. It may seem like it isn’t fair, but it’s not about what’s fair. It’s about what’s best for both of your children. Okay?”
Upstairs a short while later…
“Mom…will Jackie be coming home with us tonight?” Taryn asked as she and her friends stood anxiously in the waiting area.
“No, babe…she’s going to stay here overnight. When she does get discharged, she’s going to go home with her dad. I can’t really say much more until she does get out of here, but we’ll make sure that she’s safe. And of course she can come and visit any time she likes. Alright, sweetie?”
“Okay.”
“Jackie?” John stood at the foot of the bed.
“Dad? They say I have to stay here. I’m so sorry Daddy.”
The girl put hand over her eyes and began to weep. John did what had come naturally when Jackie was little. The child never outgrew the need to be held and loved by her father; she only outgrew the part of her that never felt right; not a foe to be fought or an enemy to be hated. Her other self was just as real a part of her as she was; just not the person in charge or even sharing; her male self was just more of her in a different way. In time she’d come to realize just how important all of her was, but for now she needed to hear her father talk to her like she had been there all along. He tried.
“Jackie…..uh….hon…honey….” He stumbled over the words. Who calls their son ‘honey?’ But it grabbed him; as strong as anything he had ever felt when it dawned on him that he wasn’t calling his ‘son’ honey, but his daughter. In time he’d come to realize that his daughter had been there all along. But for now there would be stumbles and half-starts. He didn’t know exactly what to do when his kids were born, but he learned… and he’d learn about things that girls like or don’t. He’d learn about how some girls like football; that Jackie would never stop rooting for the “Huskers.” That it was okay to want to dress up one day and wear jeans the next. So he tried.
“Jackie…I’m so…sorry. I didn’t really know until now….I’m sorry for not listening.”
“Don’t blame Jimmy; Dad….it wasn’t his fault….” She was going to add it was nobody’s fault, but her father beat her to it.
“We’re all going to go get some help. I don’t think any of us talked about how hurt we were. How much it hurt when….” He choked up; it was the first time he had allowed himself to feel the grief in front of his children…his daughter.
“I’m sorry for not….you both needed to know it was okay to hurt and to miss Mommy….God I miss her….. Jackie I’m so sorry.” John stepped closer and sat down next to Jackie. The girl lowered the railing of the bed and pulled her father close. He laid his head on her chest and sobbed; she stroked his hair for a moment before succumbing to her own loss and the twin joys of forgiveness and acceptance as she sobbed as well.
“This is a second chance for us, Jackie and I’m not going to let it pass. Okay? We’re going to get through this. I promise.”
“I know, Dad…I know.” The girl sobbed softly and gripped his hand tighter than ever before.
“I know.”
Grand Island, Nebraska, several months past a year later, Mid January…
“Dad, I’ll be alright.” Jacki looked over at her father as he maneuvered the mini-van around the maze of snow-bound cars in the parking lot. John turned his head slightly to speak, but quickly turned his attention back to driving after just barely missing a Camry that was jutting out of a snow bank.
“I’m not so comfortable…honey.”
The words were forced, but not the name. The more John used the endearment, the easier it got. His younger son Jimmy received the ‘brunt’ of his affection now that Jacki was living with Taryn and her mom. Jimmy struggled with the changes in the family, but he had made some great strides and had ‘rejoined’ humanity after a brief trip-up that led to the separation of the two siblings.
While he wouldn’t go so far as to echo his father’s words to Jacki’s face, he had actually gotten to the place of bragging about his sister to his friends. Being predisposed to settling his ‘differences’ with his friends in a somewhat rough manner had earned him a short time of suspension and a hurried appointment with his counselor. Both children had worked out their grief in completely different ways, but at the end of the day the family was once again intact and happily if tentatively stable.
“Listen, Dad…it’s fine. Taryn and Alison agree with me that we have to roll with it, no matter what.”
“I know…I know. It’s just that I didn’t think you’d be stuck with the job as Poster Child for Transgendered Skateboarding.” He resisted the urge to turn to look at Jacki as they just missed hitting the nose of an Audi A4 that was protruding from yet another snow bank.
Things were looking up...or so they thought.
A few months later, the O'Donnell home…
“You take your meds?” Jack asked Jimmy as he walked into the kitchen. Jimmy looked up and frowned.
“Come on, Dad. You ask me that every time, and it’s not fair. I’ve done everything I’m supposed to, and Jacki and I get along just fine.” Jimmy shook his head and glared at the fridge; any eye contact with his dad would likely get involved, and that’s the last thing he needed.
“I’m sorry. Listen. I talked to your sister. She’s got a doctor’s appointment and Taryn can’t get off of work. Do you think you could manage to give her a ride?” Jack immediately regretted the tone and added,
“I’m sorry, Jim… you’ve been doing just great. You didn’t deserve that at all.” He put his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder and Jimmy resisted the typical urge to shrug it off. He turned and looked up at Jack and sighed.
“Daddy… I’m trying as hard as I can…. I don’t know what else to do.”
It was the first time Jimmy had called his father Daddy since he was little, and he was right back in that moment; the little boy seeking his father’s approval. Jim’s eyes widened slightly in recognition as he saw in some small way past the haze of Jimmy’s behavior against his own impatient demands; father and son having a moment that would re-define, or rather, return to the previous definition of their relationship. He kissed the young man on the forehead, surprising them both.
Platte Valley Medical Group, Kearney, Nebraska...
Jacki got into the mini-van and closed the door. She blew out a long breath and turned her face to the window.
“So what did your doctor say? You….” Jimmy was going to make a crude joke about Jacki and her transition, but he thought better of it; more so to avoid any argument since he was convinced that his sister was way too sensitive. Jacki looked at him and sighed.
“What’s wrong…. Br….sis?” He quickly corrected himself; that pesky detail many of us fail to anticipate of how even recently renewed former recalcitrant relatives struggle with pronouns and names. Jacki nodded.
“I’ve…I’ve got to…” It had been no secret that things had gotten more difficult for her over the past several months; tricks and jumps that she would have done with ease only a short time before had become laborious and almost unmanageable. She had barely cracked the top ten on the circuit when inexplicable mistakes began to interfere with her routines; things that most boarders would make adjustments for. The timing seemed to be way off, and even Taryn had noted that she seemed much more tired lately.
“Some blood tests came back, Jim…”
Jacki had never cried much in front of her brother; mostly because of his inability to accept her gender issues, but more recently because she didn’t want to burden him in the midst of his own ‘recovery,’ so to speak. But she began to cry. Jimmy looked out the window; feeling ill-equipped to help his sister. His sister, he thought. It actually became a turning point since it wasn’t his brother acting like a girl anymore but instead it was Jimmy realizing that he had a sister instead of a brother. As hard as it was, considering his own anxiety and fears of being wrong, he turned and faced Jacki. She looked at him, wordlessly begging for some hope…some evidence that things were different. Jimmy leaned close and hugged Jacki; being more of a brother than he had ever been.
The Duplantis home…a few hours later…
“Honey, I’m home!” Jacki said weakly as she walked in with Jimmy trailing. Jimmy was convinced that Taryn hated him, and he feared what her mother Alison thought as well.
“She’s still at work; Carol called in sick.” Alison shouted from the kitchen. A moment later she emerged, sending Jimmy into a panic until he realized she wasn’t wearing her holster. She looked down at her belt and back at Jimmy.
“Jeez, Jim…relax. I’m NOT pissed at you.” To emphasize her words, she stepped closer and drew him into an awkward hug. It was only then that she noticed Jacki’s expression; almost looking like fear and embarrassment mixed together.
“Jacki? What’s wrong? The tests? You’ve got Lyme’s?” Jacki looked at her and frowned, trying hard to hold back the tears. Letting go of Jimmy, she pulled the girl into a motherly embrace as the girl sobbed in her arms.
“OH, dear God…what, honey?” Jacki offered no words other than ‘I’m sorry,’ as if being sick was some sort of disappointment to Alison. Overcompensating will do that, when you’re used to trying hard to please even those folks who love you. Alison continued to hold the girl; tighter in fact. Jacki had become more than just Taryn’s friend. More than a future member of her family, Alison treasured Jacki as if she was one of her own.
“It’s not…they need to keep an eye on her…” Jimmy spoke weakly; yet another needless apologetic tone in a house filled with acceptance and care. Alison turned her head and half-smiled at Jimmy.
“It…she may have…they think she has leukemia.”
The color left Alison’s face and she put her hand to her mouth. Jimmy looked at her and she saw something that neither she nor Jimmy had seen before; tears had welled in his eyes and he bit his lip; he had finally found the strength inside to be the brother he had always been intended to be.
“She didn’t…she was worried that you and Taryn would….” Jimmy wondered even as he spoke where that came from. He touched Alison’s arm and placed his other hand on Jacki’s neck; a kind gesture that was light years away from how he had treated her.
Alison blinked back tears and nodded in acknowledgement; not merely the understanding of the problem all of them faced but also approval of the young man who continued to struggle with his own issues. She smiled even as the tears flowed; her expression telling Jimmy that whatever Jacki faced, she would face it with family…every one of them.
A few hours later...
“You should have told me,” Taryn exclaimed. She scaled the plastic travel mug against the kitchen door; spilling the coffee all over the floor.
“You should have trusted me…I’m not your father and I’m not your brother.” Her anger got in the way of her only for a moment. She turned to Jimmy and shook her head in apology. Jimmy lowered his gaze only a bit while extending a waving hand as if to say he understood. Both he and Jack had made great strides in re-establishing their relationship with Jacki, but the trust came slowly, mirroring how painfully slow their betrayal of Jacki had been. Alison stepped closer to Jimmy and placed her hand on his shoulder in reassurance. She was tempted to correct her daughter, but Taryn’s next words rendered that point moot.
“I…I’m so sorry. I’m being such a bitch when….” She stared into Jacki’s eyes; eyes that understood as well and forgave. Taryn rushed to Jacki and the two held each other; crying the way only two who are so close; sisters and mates in a way.
“We…We’re going to get through this.” Taryn pulled back and faced Jacki, hoping that her words would be borne out. She turned to Alison and smiled weakly, hoping for some glimmer of confidence. Alison nodded and smiled before she gazed upward; her eyes indicating that the source of their hope came from outside themselves. Jimmy nodded as he caught Taryn’s eye. He hoped for deliverance from someplace…someone. He would find someone who was reliable and true and brave and good; that someone was him.
St. Francis Cancer Treatment Center, Grand Island, Nebraska, weeks later…
The tall man smiled at the figure lying on the bed. The girl looked frail; weak and paler than anyone could remember. Her head was closely shorn, with bare spots here and there; she refused to give up what little hair she still had.
“Let’s believe, okay, Jacki?” Melmem Jabbour was confident that the transplant would give the girl a good chance at recovery. He prayed a quick prayer to himself as the girl turned to face him.
“No matter what happens, I’m blessed with a very precious gift, Dr. Jabbour.”
“Jimmy is a good young man. His gift to you will bring you new life; I believe that with all my being.” Jacki nodded but then shook her head.
“You know…. It’s such a blessing that my brother is a match for me. But…” She teared up at the thought even as she smiled.
“It’s Jimmy that’s really my blessing.”
Summer X-Games, 2015, Los Angeles, California…
The girl finished her final run and skated off the course, meeting two excited figures. Two minutes later her scores were posted.
“Aw fuck…you were better than that.” Jimmy shook his head. Jacki patted him in consolation.
“Second place to Lizzie Armanto? I can think of only two things I’d rather have than that.” She didn’t bother to finish the sentence, since she walked out arm in arm with Taryn.
“What?” Jimmy asked, completely missing the moment. Taryn turned around and smiled before glancing between Jacki and Jimmy.
“You and me, silly!”
Crisis often brings out examples of character. And almost as frequently points us to the hope we have. Jimmy O’Donnell helped save his sister’s life, and in doing so apprehended that hope and saved his own.
Gresham, Oregon
Lara stood outside the office, staring at the door. She did a quick inventory; her Charcoal Gray suit was almost a ‘power’ outfit, which seemed out of place for the job she was about to assume. Assumptions….
“No time like the future!”
She laughed, but still pivoted on her heel and went to walk away. As she turned, she stepped right into a young man; a young man with a cardboard tray filled with coffee containers. She fell back and hit her head against the door with a loud bang and a very soft but decided slip into dreamland.
“Miss …Miss? The haze seemed to hover in front of her eyes until she realized her face was covered with a cold wet towel.
“What…what happened?” She went to sit up but fell back quickly against the leather couch.
“I am so sorry, Miss…And your first day? Oh gosh…what was I thinking?” The voice exclaimed.
Lara pulled the towel from her face and saw that she was nearly face-to-face with the young man with whom she had made acquaintance only minutes before.
“Is that a new blouse? Oh gosh…that must have cost you plenty…Is that silk…Oh damn….Oh...I’m so sorry.“ His faced reddened.
She looked down at the blouse, which was indeed, silk and expensive and noticed the dark stain that covered one breast, along with a growing discomfort which she realized was the sensation of pain from the more than tepid coffee that had splashed on her.
“No problem.” She smiled at the young man, who continued to shake nervously.
“I’m so sorry. I can’t manage it this week, but next Friday is payday. I promise I’ll replace it. How much did it cost?” The boy was practically in tears; something with which Lara was all too familiar.
“Oh, this old thing? If I paid fifteen for it last year it would be a surprise. Don’t worry about it…your name?” She lied. She had paid almost a hundred dollars for it, but the cost was the least of her concerns. It was a brief and perhaps ill-advised self-indulgence that did little to justify its purchase. In fact, it only made her feel guilty, but she had bought it and so felt compelled to wear it.
“Oh…I’m sorry…Jimmy…Jimmy Olsen. Yeah, I know…I get it all the time. And especially with helping on the Church newsletter? You wouldn’t happen to be named Miss Lane, would you? Oh…of course not…your name is DiNapoli, right? Miss Lara DiNapoli?”
He had the name right, sort of. Lara was named DiNapoli…a middle name of sorts, and currently she would be regarded as a Miss, but only twenty-some months before she had been a Mister….Cerciera… Dante Cerciera …. Actually Major Dante Cerciera.
“Take it easy, Jim…no, I’m not going to call you Jimmy; you’re far too old and too dark for a cub reporter. How about we start out as friends and take it from there. Would you see if you can find something for this headache?”
Lara shrugged as the boy ran off; a bundle of nervous energy; he seemed as eager to please as a two-year-old beagle. She smiled; he reminded her of her own son… Dante Jr. Taken so soon from her and Nancy by an IED in Mosul… his wife wasted away after their child’s death; finally succumbing to some entirely treatable affliction had she the strength to care. Dante Sr. was the only one left to accept the ‘generous’ offer by the contractor… And why not? Two losses in a year? Two heartaches that still hurt enough to serenade her to sleep with her own weeping. It was her turn… it… should be…shouldn’t it be?
“Miss DiNapoli? She looked up and found Jim had returned with a package of ibuprofen…Midol actually. She laughed at the irony as the young man handed her a bottle of water to wash down the pills.
“Thanks Jim…now where can I find Pastor Decker’s office?” Jim pointed her in the right direction before running off again.
“Hello, Lara. Come in. I’m awfully sorry about your ‘welcome’ just now. Well, you've met Jimmy...he means well...our intern from the seminary.” He smiled oddly at her and she tilted her head as if to ask a question.
“I’m sorry, but you still...you didn’t…you don’t appear at all like I imagined you to be…. When Al Apsche’ had called me with your recommendation, I pictured you being quite a bit older. I know that seems almost sexist in this day and age, but with your experience?”
“If he only knew,” she thought. Al was Dante’s best friend, and he sort of fudged a few details.
“Oh…I’m sorry…It’s so disconcerting…You just seem much…younger than I expected. Given your age.” He repeated; at the mention of the word ‘age,’ both Pastor Decker and Lara blushed.
“Oh, Reverend Decker, I bet you say that to all your associate pastors.” Lara made a marginally close approximation of a Southern accent.
“Only to those who have as much know-how and background as you. Al really sang your praises. I’m glad you’ve come aboard. We’ve been working under-staffed since Jack Ter Hune passed, and I had misgivings all along about hiring someone less…seasoned. The board certainly was impressed with your interview. So you fit the bill.”
Seasoned wasn’t the word; Lara had been an Army chaplain in her other life, and like so many in ministry, Dante had been driven by his ‘call,’ and had sacrificed too much to see the flock fed and clothed. By the time Dante had left the service, his marriage was nearly lost, and by the time he got re-acquainted with his estranged son, the family was on life-support. Nancy never forgave him for the death of their son, and even more importantly, Dante…Lara had never forgiven herself.
“You should fit right in with us, Lara. I’m really glad to see someone of your character and experience on hand to help shepherd the flock.”
“Turn around and walk right out…You don’t have to do this!” The voice…her own self-talk, of course, spoke loudly in one ear while the other voice… the voice of reason and sanity and sacrifice and co-dependency and guilt said ‘You owe it to God!’
“Excuse me, Pastor Decker?” A woman…late-fortyish…called from the open door to his office; a kind and gentle face with fine line etched across her left cheek. She smiled at Jeff Decker.
“Rachael…it’s nearly end of day, you can stop calling me Pastor.” He laughed. She teased him and he teased back.
Lara DiNapoli…Meet Rachael Decker… my erstwhile secretary and sister.
“Pleased to meet you, Rev. DiNapoli.” She said it with such respect that it seemed a shame to correct her, but correct her Lara did.
“I’m not a Reverend; I haven’t been ordained, and my credentials are quite old.” She felt like adding,
“Major Dante Cerciera reporting for duty, Ma’am. I’m a single transsexual and likely would have been divorced if my wife hadn’t died due to my neglect.” Not too self-critical, she surmised, but entirely honest.
“Well, we’ve heard nothing but good things about you…I hope you’ll find us as pleasant as we have already found you.” She smiled and touched Lara’s hand softly before walking over and kissing Jeff on the cheek.
“Tell Callie I’ll be late for dinner.” She sighed and hurried out.
“You’ll find Rachael to be of great assistance.” He said it with little enthusiasm, which garnered a quizzical look from Lara.
“Oh, gosh…I’m sorry…Rachael was engaged…he died a couple of years ago and today would have been their second anniversary...she's stopping off at his grave.”
“I’m sorry.” A typical response for something so personal with someone you don’t know, but Lara knew too much about loss not to be moved.
“Oh gosh, I almost forgot. I meant to invite you to dinner on Sunday…I don’t expect you’ll have quite settled in by then, and Callie does Chicken Paprikash like she got off the plane from Budapest.” He laughed heartily, which surprised Lara.
“I seem to be full of apologies today. Callie and I met in Hungary after my first wife died. She was a correspondent for Radio Free Europe when the Soviet Bloc went south. Please feel welcome, okay?”
Lara nodded.
He stepped closer and smiled.
“Welcome again.” Jeff stood and waited for a moment before looking at Lara’s right hand.
“My mother always told me never to offer your hand to a lady unless she holds out her own first.”
Lara looked down at her hand; something to remember…two things, actually, as she shook Jeff’s hand. First, her expertise in conventional behavior for women was somewhat lacking even after a year RLT and being post surgery for several months. And to be called a lady? She felt like anything but a lady as noticed her reflection in the glass pane of the office door.
"One last thing? Please feel free to come to me if you've got any concerns or questions, okay. Callie and I want you to know that before anything else, we want to be your friends, alright?" Jeff's hand lingered before he patted her wrist and smiled. Lara nodded and forced a smile...
“Faker!”
She heard it, but it didn’t come from without, but within. She bit her tongue softly as she nodded once to Jeff before exiting, trying hard not to cry. She failed miserably and broke down behind the wheel of her Jeep; another ‘luxury’ courtesy of the insurance settlements she had gotten nearly back to back. She looked down at her stained blouse; a blouse that covered a very attractive body for a forty-seven year old woman…if that’s what she could be called.
“Faker!”
The voice grew louder in her head; condemnation, both from her own heart and the lingering words of her late wife, seemed to come easy.
“You can run, but you can never hide!”
Almost like Jonah, but instead of being swallowed by a whale she was being swallowed by guilt and shame. And all she needed was forgiveness, healing, friends, family, self-confidence; a fairly simple combination likely to be found nowhere on earth, but for the parking lot of the Church of the Redeemer…
A knock came at the window of the Jeep, startling Lara. She looked up and saw a friendly face…two in fact, as Jeff Decker stood next to his best friend…and Lara’s…Al Apsche’.
“Lara? We need to talk, okay?” Jeff said and Al smiled and nodded in agreement. Lara just kept crying.
The Parsonage Kitchen…a short while later…
Lara had stopped crying, but her face was red with embarrassment. Jeff had put on a pot of coffee and was just sitting down at the table. Al sat across from Lara, a sheepish grin on his face. Lara faced him and her embarrassment abated only somewhat.
“Why didn’t you just tell me you were going to tell them everything? I thought we agreed that would be something we’d get into slowly.” Lara shook her head, feeling betrayed.
“You put me in an awful bind, Lara. I’m sorry, but for your sake, Jeff and the church needed to know.”
“You mean the board already knows? Al, how could you?”
“He did it out of the goodness of his heart, and you should really be thanking him.” Jeff said; his words almost a rebuke. Lara almost felt like Jeff and Al were ganging up on her. Jeff frowned.
“I’m sorry, Lara, but the whole process was hurried since we felt we needed to replace Jack since his passing was so sudden, and the need to have extra help just grew exponentially this month.”
“What? I don’t understand.” Lara turned and looked at Al, who had nodded at Jeff’s words.
“I’m going to have to cut back; the cancer took its toll, and while I’ve been free for nearly six months now, I don’t have the energy to work here full time. We need a senior pastor, and Al felt you were the best candidate, but that meant accelerating the process, including getting all the information about you.”
“I don’t understand.” Lara had begun to mist up once again. None of this made any sense.
You still are and always will be the best candidate. You have experience; God knows how much love and compassion you have. But it has to be straightforward and open. There was never any need to keep your past secret, Lara. Jeff and I go back further than us, and you can believe me when I tell you that he was the best person to know about you.' Al looked over at Jeff and back to Lara.
"I know it seems unfair, and maybe it is, and for that I apologize for that. But I’ve been killing myself trying to figure out a way to help you understand that your past doesn’t matter…not to me….and certainly not to this church, obviously, or they wouldn’t have hired you to take Jeff’s place in the pulpit.”
“Take his place? What?” Lara shook her head. It was all coming way too fast, and she was overwhelmed.
“We weren’t interviewing you for Associate Pastor; that will be my new role with my semi-retirement. We want you to shepherd this flock, Lara.” Jeff smiled warmly and put his hand on her wrist.
“Al explained all about you…I know you may feel betrayed, but keep in mind that you haven’t been quite honest yourself…”
“Or with yourself.” The voice came from behind. Rachael stood there, her warm smile almost a beacon in the room.
“You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of; we all have a past. I’ve chosen to let go of mine; the hopes and dreams and plans I had with Eric are gone, and I could dwell on them; feeling sorry for myself. But I have to move on for my sake and for everyone else.”
“You don’t understand…I’m not who you think I am,” Lara said as if they hadn’t already known.
“Lara…they know about Danny…” Al said, trailing off. He had tried to walk the couple through their loss, but between Dante’s inability to get past his own feelings of guilt and Nancy’s devastation and final surrender to her grief, the family literally had been destroyed. He felt he had failed them, both as a friend and as a pastor, and now that Lara sat there, Al finally felt hope for his friend growing inside himself.
“We all make choices, Lara.” Al stood up and walked over. He squatted down to see her face to face, almost like a father would a child.
“Nancy, God rest her soul, wasn’t strong enough, and we can’t fault her for that. What did she say to you before she died?” It was very hard to put it in the framework of the past, to reach back to the person Lara had been only a few short years before, but she really was still the same person.
“Don’t…please Al…I can’t,” Lara protested as tears streamed down her face. Even after the memory of her last days with Nancy, Lara still felt ashamed and unworthy of forgiveness.
“Lara…come on…you can’t beat yourself up forever. She told you…” Lara cut him off.
“No…I don’t deserve this ….it’s not fair…it’s all my fault.” She went to stand up and felt a hand on her shoulder, not pushing her down so much as urging her to stay. Rachael took Lara’s left hand in both of hers and held it, like a friend would for a friend. A new friend, perhaps, but someone to rely on and trust.
“It’s okay.” No words of correction or argument; just reassurance as one who knew.
“Lara…it’s going to be okay. Nancy left you with something that you’ve neglected. A gift that you seem to have lost. I found it myself after Jessica passed, and I think you can find yours once again. What did she say, Lara? What did Nancy leave you with?” Al shifted into a genuflect position and put his hand on Lara’s arm. Jeff stood up and walked over and was joined by Callie; standing behind Lara as she bowed her head, sobbing.
“We all have needed it, and we all have received it, Lara. Let me speak the words you told me…the words that gave you comfort then…you set them aside, like you didn’t deserve them, but that’s what a gift is, isn’t it? Freely given?” Al knew she couldn’t speak but she grabbed his wrist and squeezed softly, giving him permission.”
“I know it almost by heart; I’m sorry if I get some of the words wrong, but I know you’ll forgive me, since she was my sister, after all, okay.” By now, Al was struggling to speak as well, and the words came haltingly and with much effort, but he managed to repeat what Lara needed to hear.
“She didn’t call you Dante’ or even Dan or Danny, did she?” Lara shook her head no, struggling to keep from losing it altogether.
“’Lara?’ Isn’t that what she called you? She knew…She told me that she had known for some time.” Lara’s shoulders began to tremble.
“’Lara…’” Al swallowed hard and continued.
“I am so sorry…. blamed you for Danny...Danny's death. My baby…grown up and it was your fault…he wanted…to be like you…and he was. He loved you and he missed you.” Al bit his lip as he closed his eyes and recalled his nephew’s face.
“’He loved you and I think if he was here he still would even though you’re changing….I wanted…’” It was almost too painful to speak; Al recalled his sister’s bitterness that had consumed her even as obsession and a fear of failure had consumed her husband.
“’I wanted my husband and he never came back…and my son…’ Lara.” Al touched her cheek softly.
“Lara, what did she say…what did she do…what was the gift?” Al struggled to keep from sobbing himself. Lara lifted her head and smiled even as the tears fell.
“She forgave me….and….” She bit her lip as her shoulders began to tremble again, but she finished,
“She called me by my….she called me Lara…the first one to….the first one to…see me…” She put her head down on the table and wept, leaving behind years of guilt and shame and finally picking up and holding the last gift that Nancy Apsche’ Cercierra would ever bestow; acceptance.
The church was full for the first time ever on a July Sunday. The usual folks had postponed weekend excursions or in some cases returned early from vacations. Alongside the members and frequent visitors sat the curious and the skeptical; new ways supplanting old as even progressive folks discovered just how much they still had to learn.
Callie Decker played the last notes of “You’re All I Want” as Jim Olsen bade the congregation to be seated. His broad grin beamed with pride as he gave way to the pastor, newly installed and preaching the first of many sermons to come. Making the way to the lectern for the inaugural message, the pastor nodded slightly; an unfamiliar face to many, which evoked a few murmurs and some applause. Instead of the usual casual slacks and button-down shirt and tie of the previous shepherd, the pastor wore black slacks and a teal silk blouse under a white jacket. She smiled.
“Good Morning,” Lara spoke softly, demonstrating a humility that would be a familiar and welcomed part of her ‘pulpit voice,’ as some put it.
“I am honored to be a part of God’s plan for us all. I’ll be reading my text from The Message today, since I believe it speaks to me, and hopefully through me to you, okay?” She bowed her head slightly and said a silent prayer, her shoulders shaking only a little; another DiNapoli ‘trademark’ that would be a familiar part of her ministry.
"The Book of the Prophet Isaiah…Chapter Forty-Three…Verses One through Four...
But now, God's Message, the God who made you in the first place, Jacob,
the One who got you started, Israel:"Don't be afraid, I've redeemed you.
I've called your name. You're mine….”
Gresham Oregon…two years later…
“You’ve been so quiet, Lara. Is there anything wrong?” The petit woman spoke from the office doorway. No need for formalities between best friends, right? Lara had always been uncomfortable with titles anyway. She shook her head no, but the accompanying frown indicated otherwise.
“It’s our anniversary,” Lara said as she looked away. Remembering her late wife; no need to hide tears since Rachael could read her like a book, as the saying goes. In few short years since Lara took over as Senior Pastor, she had made strides in convincing the faithful few that she was there to stay. Rachael’s brother Jeff was holding his own and had been cancer free for almost as long, but was too weak to be of assistance as the church had doubled in size.
“Oh…I meant to tell you. Al called; he’s going to be in town and he wanted to know if you were free for dinner.” The words sent a chill up Lara’s back; her former brother-in-law was a bulwark of support when his sister passed; Jack’s sister Nancy was also the wife of Major Dante Cerciera.. Danny Cerciera. moved on after his wife passed, becoming Lara DiNapoli. It would have been a daunting mess of confusion just for that alone.
“You gonna tell him?” Rachael winked and smiled.
“Tell him what?” Lara was like anyone else in the world; privacy was important because she felt guarded and secure by the secrecy. Rachael blasted past those defenses, as only a BFF can and said finally,
“Are you going to tell Al that you love him?”
A few days later at the church…
“You do know you couldn’t have been a brighter shade of red the other day if you tried.” Rachael laughed and patted Lara on the head like an obedient child. Lara turned and resisted the temptation to stick out her tongue.
“Why I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She laughed nervously at her attempt at humor, but her face grew warm and she put her head down.
“It’s okay, Lar….” Rachael knew Lara better than anyone other than the man they had been discussing the past several days. She smiled and shook her head.
“I know there’s a whole lot going on inside there, honey, and you know that not all of it is good, right?” The question would have led to disastrous results if she hadn’t added quickly,
“Guilt and shame keep nipping at your heels, no matter how fast you run away. You have to turn around and smack each of them in the nose with a rolled up paper!” She half-smiled and stepped close to her friend once again, kneading her shoulders from behind. Lara looked up at Rachael and smiled weakly.
“You feel like you’re betraying her memory. You feel like you don’t deserve to be happy. You feel like you don’t want to be a burden on your best friend….How am I doing so far?”
“Stellar….” Lara said weakly, putting her head down.
“Truth is? All of those things are true, but only in small ways. Yes, in a way you are betraying Nan’s memory, but only because she said that she wanted you to be happy and live your life, right? And your reluctance to do anything for yourself? My brother would help you if he could, but either way, it’s not good for you to neglect your own needs.”
“If I don’t do it, Rache?”
“I know…it won’t get done. But who’s to say it should get done in the first place? We don’t have a corner on needs in this church. Jesus said something about the poor being with us always? That’s not poor only in goods, but in spirit. And you know you can’t be of any good to anyone else if you’re no good to yourself. So yeah. That’s a betrayal!” She half-frowned as if to criticize, but the light in her eyes spoke otherwise.
“And yes…it’s true that you don’t deserve to be happy. None of us deserve much of anything other than the respect and love we owe to each other. It’s a matter of joy, sweetie! And you exude it. Why folks love your messages; they speak of hope and joy in the midst of all the crap we have coming at us. But it’s okay to be happy anyway, and damn it if it’s not a bad idea when you actually grab hold of some happiness.”
Lara stared at the floor; by now tears had begun to fall. These times felt so awkward and inauthentic; she hadn’t really cried much other than when her son died and when Nan died. But then again, being a ‘man’ compelled her to act and speak and perhaps even try to think a certain way. But inside in those moments when her life’s incongruity rose like so much bile in her throat; she cried every day inside even if she never shed a tear.
“We hurt no matter whether we show it or even feel it; it’s part of life. And it’s right to be happy. It just is.”
“What about Al…he’s….”
“What? He shouldn’t bear you up? And why not? Is it up to you to determine who loves you? Maybe he’s got other ideas, Lar….think of that.”
Rachael had pretty much exhausted all of her resources, and it was working. Lara was at the point of being vulnerable and trusting that things were actually okay. She was at a place where she could talk to Al about how she felt. It was a good thing even if it was destined to fail. She was ready to tell him she did indeed love him, but sadly, as Rachael suggested? Al had other ideas.
“Good afternoon, Pastor DiNapoli. “
Lara looked up from her paperwork to find Al Apsche standing in her doorway. He had a bottle of champagne in his right hand and a smile on his face. Lara bit her lip and looked away, hoping she didn’t screw things up.
“I’ve got something to celebrate, and I can’t think of anyone I’d like to share it with than my best friend. You free for dinner? Nice Thai place over in Portland.” Lara looked at the clock on her desk. 5:18; it was later than she expected, She looked back and Al was grinning as if he had a big secret; and everyone knew Al couldn’t keep a secret if his life depended on it.
“Sure…anything for you!” She sighed only slightly, hoping she wasn’t as easily ‘read’ as he was. Truth of the matter? Al wasn’t easy to read at all; something she was about to find out.
Sweet Basil Thai Restaurant, Portland….
Al handed the waitress the bottle and smiled.
“I’ll be right back with your menus, and I’ll get this chilled.” She nodded and walked back to the kitchen.
“I’ve got some great news,” he said as he pulled her chair out to seat her. His warm breath caressed her left ear, or so it seemed. She grabbed the glass of water in front of her and downed it in a long, quick draught. Al sat down and grabbed her hand. She pulled back slightly and he let go; he was always a fairly touchy-feely guy, and she felt her face grow warm.
“A friend told me to try the Salmon Curry.” He patted her hand and she noticed that he was still wearing his wedding ring…funny how she had missed that after all these years.
“Anyway? About my news? Wellllllll” He seemed to be a bit more playful than usual; perhaps it wasn’t going to be hard at all to tell him how much she cared. Actually, it was going to prove to be more than just difficult; something that became apparent a moment later when an attractive Asian woman walked to the table. At first Lara thought she might be the manager or owner, but that idea went away quickly as she leaned close and kissed Al on the cheek.
“Oh, hi. I’m glad you were able to break away for a bit.” He stood up and pulled out the chair between his and Lara’s and seated her, but not before kissing her cheek as well. She turned and smiled warmly at Lara.
“You must be Pastor DiNapoli. Al has told me so much about you. It’s nice to meet someone who is dear to him.” She patted Lara’s hand much in the same manner as Al had only moments before. Lara noticed that she was wearing a wedding ring. He was being awfully familiar with the woman, and Lara felt her face grow warm in embarrassment.
“I’m Chaisee Taksin.” She held out her hand and Lara shook it.”
“Chai?” Al smiled at her and turned to Lara with a look that seemed to say, ‘can you believe her?’ Chaisee laughed softly and patted Al’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry….that’s Chaisee Taksin Apsche. Al and I got married last month in St. Louis.” She smiled an innocent smile; her demeanor literally matched her first name. Al, on the other hand might not have been guilty of anything, but he was far from innocent. Lara bit the inside of her cheek and stifled a sigh before smiling politely.
“That’s wonderful,” she said, trying hard to be authentic; at least in tone. In front of the woman who had just married the man she had realized she herself had grown to love; a woman…a real woman, she thought; she felt anything but authentic. She placed her hand on Chaisee’s arm and squeezed.
“You’ve gotten just about the best guy around. I’m so happy for you both.” She would talk herself into acting happy, and deep down she truly rejoiced for them both; that character trait of hers that endeared her to so many. But at that moment, she didn’t ‘feel’ happy at all. She smiled again and reached into her jacket, pulling out her phone.
“I’ve got to take this. You’ll excuse me?”
She stood up quickly, not waiting for a reply. The phone hadn’t buzzed at all, but she needed some space and quickly. Al stood up politely as she nodded and walked outside to her Jeep. She hit the remote and the door locks opened and she got inside. Placing her purse on the seat next to her, she stared blankly ahead. It had begun to rain hard, and the sound of the water hitting the roof of the car took the edge off her mood; she had always loved the sound of rain against metal. But the mood remained, if subdued only a little by the soothing sounds; sounds which did little to hide her cries as she began to sob....
The Church office, a week later...
“How could I be so stupid!?” Lara looked up from her desk. A newspaper lay in front of her, quarter folded to reveal a picture of a happy couple. Rachael stepped close and picked up the paper, tossing it in the paper recycle bin in the corner of Lara’s office.
“As my dear granddaddy would say, ‘That’s a lie straight from the pit!’” She shook her head and sat down in the chair catty-corner to Lara’s and grabbed the woman’s hand.
“I thought he cared for you…you thought he cared for you… I’d be willing to be that at one time he even thought he cared for you. Not stupid by a long shot, sweetie. Just human, like everyone else."
Lara didn’t suffer from a superiority complex so much as believe everyone thought she couldn’t show any weakness or frailty. As a pastor and shepherd of the people she had grown to love, she wanted to be all she could be for them. But being all and doing all are two different things.
“I feel so useless.”
“Because you made a mistake? So I suppose this completely disqualifies you for service? Never mind the comfort you gave the Harding family last month when their niece died. Or the mother’s heart you showed to Jimmy when he found out he had cancer? Or maybe the hold-your-horses counsel you gave Louise regarding that idiot she was dating? Yeah, you’re useless alright.” Rachael was never one to hold back, but even more so, she knew Lara needed a cold dose of reality instead of a nod and a pat on the back. And Lara had come to find out she could never argue with Rachael anyway.
“You know what I mean.” Lara looked away, feeling the sting of the words that were meant to heal. Rachael leaned closer and patted her cheek; a bit less playful than she had intended; it certainly got her attention.
“Listen. Yes, I know. And as your best friend and confidante, sweetie, I can safely say that you are not…I repeat…NOT useless.
“I guess ….I’m not….”
“Listen…apart from your own disappointment with how life started, nothing matters as far as anyone else goes unless you let it. If you’re less than perfect, what does that make me? I can’t have kids, either, but….” Rachael’s voice trailed off. Stu’s memory enfolded her softly as she recalled his tenderness; a man from a big family who had been born to be a father who chose to love a woman who couldn’t have children. A man whose departure left her both richer and poorer.
“I…I know. I’m being so selfish.” Lara didn’t mean to, but she found herself looking at Rachael’s body, recalling the lack they both felt if for entirely different reasons.
“Selfish? Hell yes! But you just got hurt bad, sweetie. It’s actually okay to be a little selfish. Just don’t let it go to your head.” She patted Lara on the arm, evoking a smile out of her.
“It hurts….I think it almost hurts more than when Nan died.” She sighed. Rachael rubbed her arm softly.
“Maybe just differently. I saw the way your eyes lit up when you thought you might have a shot with Al. The same way you look when you talk about Nan… both hurt but for different reasons."
Rachael smiled warmly and rubbed Lara’s arm again. An odd sensation crossed her face as she felt her expression duplicating the look she had just described. She went to pull back and Lara looked at her. Some might have thought it too soon; that horribly dreaded rebound effect that takes place when a love dies elsewhere, in a way. But that old adage…date a friend...inserted itself in an entirely timely manner.
“I…I’m sorry.” Lara turned away, fearing her anxious stare would reveal her supreme selfishness.
“For what? For being human? Didn’t we just go over this?” Rachael shook her head; a headshake that says I’m with you and you’re okay no matter how you feel about yourself. And then she did something entirely surprising but entirely called for.
“If anyone’s being selfish it’s me. I’m taking advantage of the moment, sweetie, okay?"
“What… I don’t understa…” Lara’s protest was cut off as Rachael pulled her close and kissed her.
“Nnnn” Lara tried to speak, but Rachael would have none of it, so to speak, and continued to kiss her best friend. Her right hand reached up and touched Lara’s cheek. She had begun to cry, and the tears dripped onto Rachael’s fingers. Rachael pulled away slightly to look into Lara’s eyes.
“I fell for you the day you came to work here. I thought that I was crazy…that I was horrible for forgetting Stu’s memory. For loving another woman. For everything and anything I could think of.”
“But you….you pushed me….toward Al. Knowing that I was ….”
“Because you loved him and I love you! I’m no hero, but it was what I had to do. I couldn’t love you if I couldn’t let you go.” She choked back a sob, as if she had failed miserably in her need to see Lara’s happiness secured.
“I…I….”
Lara began to sob; the thought of actually being loved seemed so foreign to her. The love Nan bestowed on her death bed was withheld for so long that it was a hugely bitter-rather-than-sweet moment. And Al’s rejection, so to speak, had firmly cemented in her heart that she must be worthless The kiss might have softened her, but the look in Rachael’s eyes and the words from her lips caused that idea to crumble to dust. Rachael kissed her again, but this time, Lara kissed back. The first time in years that she felt both worthy and loveable; she kissed with a once dormant passion that was freed finally by the woman in front of her.
“I don’t know…” She protested. And of course she didn’t. The moment was electric and spontaneous and wonderful, but she really didn’t know if she loved Rachael the same way Rachael had apparently loved her. But in that moment, she decided that she was very much willing to find out.
A few months later....
It was a day of firsts; some long-anticipated but delayed only by a lack of opportunity rather than choice. Others were new because of a break with tradition. And one just because….
“I’m so happy for you.” Al paused and blinked back tears; somewhere Nan was looking down on the two of them and smiling. Chaisee squeezed Al’s shoulder and kissed his cheek.
“It’s time, you two.” She used her hand in a broad gesture to indicate the front of the church. For the first time in the history of the church, the senior pastor would not be performing the ceremony, but then again, it was the first time the senior pastor would be getting married. Chaisee kissed Lara on the cheek.
“Chokh dÄ«!” She smiled and walked quickly up the aisle, taking her place on the left side. Jerry nodded and Jimmy picked up his guitar and began to sing.
He is now to be among you at the calling of your hearts
Rest assured this troubadour is acting on His part.
The union of your spirits, here, has caused Him to remain
For whenever two or more of you are gathered in His name
There is Love, there is Love.
Al squeezed Lara’s elbow and they walked slowly down the aisle. Only a few seconds in eternity, perhaps, but a moment in time that would live forever. Rachael stepped closer to the middle of the platform as Callie took her bouquet. She reached down and took Lara’s hand as the two enjoyed what would be only the first of ‘second chances’ for them both.
As two shall leave their families to make another home
And they shall travel on to where the two shall be as one.
As it was in the beginning is now and til the end
As two women draw from one another and give it back again.
And there is Love, there is Love.
Well then what's to be the reason for the two becoming one?
Is it life that brings you here or life that brings you love?
And if loving is the answer, then who's the giving for?
Do you believe in something that you've never seen before?
Oh there is Love, there is Love.
Oh the marriage of your spirits here has caused Me to remain
For whenever two or more of you are gathered in My name
There am I, there is Love. *
Newton, New Jersey...
Alicia walked the thirteen blocks from school to home; one more running the gauntlet. Kenny Narcise and Jackie Pietrowski walked alongside the girl, coming up with new and hurtful epithets not worth repeating here. The girl hadn’t had a tear-free day since school started.
“Hey, loser!” The kindest insult of the past sixty-eight days, it still hurt because up until that moment, things looked anything but dim and getting darker for the girl.
“If you’re a fag, say, ‘what,” Kenny whispered and the girl sadly fell into the trap,
“What?” She leaned closer and Jackie knocked her books from her arms, sending them splashing into a deep puddle that had formed around a very clogged storm drain. She went to pick them up and Kenny tripped her and she ended up falling onto the sidewalk next to the storm drain. A loud thud was followed by a scream that was quickly followed by hysterical laughter as the two boys pointed to her and laughed before running down the block.
She rolled over and sat up, rubbing her wrist and sobbing. She felt so bad; sixteen and awkward still after months of counseling, as if she had let someone down by not being brave. She went to stand up slowly, struggling to gain some balance and she fell back into the big puddle. It was almost too sadly silly; as if someone would come along and ask, ‘what’s wrong, little girl?’ Except for the fact that her name wasn’t Alicia; at least as far as Newton High School was concerned. And she wasn’t little relatively speaking and she wasn’t even a she, at least as far as her driver’s permit was concerned.
Alan shook his head furiously; the tears flying off his face like water off a wet dog’s back. He bit his lip, not out of frustration or anger, but because he actually accidentally bit it as he slipped back once again into the puddle; this time with a splash as leaves and mud spattered him even more. It was more than humiliating, since the very thing that hurt him was that someone finally was realizing that he was different.
“Alan, why do you do that? If you wear that kind of clothing you’ll only draw attention to yourself." He recalled his mother saying on more than one occasion.
He looked at his reflection in the puddle as the water calmed itself. Hair that was black, long and uneven. The streaks of makeup on his face were purely unintentional, a by-product of the tears he had just shed, causing his mascara to run. The long blue hooded sweater acted almost like a sponge, and when he finally gained enough purchase to stand, it nearly weighed twice as much. His jeans were black as well, but they appeared more grayish-brown from the leafy debris of the puddle. The fingerless gloves did nothing to protect his hands, which now were caked with a mixture of mud and blood from the scrapes against the sidewalk. The hood had fallen back and his hair was soaked with muddy water. In short, he was a mess.
“Excuse me, can I help?” He heard a soft voice from behind. He turned around and saw a nice looking face smiling down on him. He righted himself finally as a hand reached out to steady him.
“I think you hit your head.” The girl said softly. “Here, let me help you,” she continued as she walked him up a sidewalk and onto a porch.
“I don’t think anyone will mind.” She patted him softly on the arm before walking back to the puddle to retrieve his books. A moment later she returned with a sad but understanding look on her face.
“They’re ruined. I’m sorry.” She said it as if it had been her fault for not helping or being there or something. Alan looked up at her and realized that he must be dreaming. The girl wore clothes similar to his except that instead of jeans, she wore a black denim mini over black tights. It felt like they had planned together what to wear even though he had never met her. She smiled once again and held her hand out.
“I don’t think I can stand,” Alan said and the girl laughed; her voice soothing and warm.
“Oh…no…I was…My name is Dana…Dana Martino.” She noticed her palm was dirty from the mud of the puddle, and she quickly wiped it off before offering it again.
“That’s my house over there,” she pointed to the Cape Cod cottage across the street.
“We just moved here from Italy.” She smiled at the thought before continuing. “I’m not Italian…well, yes, I am sort of, but…my Dad just retired from the Air Force…my Mom…was from Italy…he’s from here originally.”
“Oh,” was all Alan could think to say. He shook her hand and she tilted her head and smiled while squinting a bit. He took the hint.
“I’m Alan…Alan Capulano. I live…right here. This actually is my house.” Alan smiled at the thought
“Well, I’m glad to meet you, Alan. I guess we’ll get to know each other.” She held out her hand once again and he shook it until she looked at him crosswise.
“Oh, yeah,” he said as he accepted her help in standing.
“I’ve got to run. I’m late for my piano lesson. Nice to meet you, Alan.” What might have seemed forward in almost any other situation felt completely normal and even expected as the girl leaned closed and kissed him quickly on the cheek before walking off. He put his hand to his face and felt the growing warmth and a big chunk of mud on his cheek where she had kissed him, and he sighed.
Saturday...
The next morning Alan got up and picked out his ‘outfit,’ which was usually a bit more subdued on the weekend. It was almost as if his clothing was chosen to provoke. His therapist had told him to consider why he felt the need; not because she was critical, but because they had discussed his reasons for seeking attention.
“Mom, have you seen my black miniskirt?” He called out to his mother, who was making breakfast.
“Oh, Alan, I wish you wouldn’t wear that. You know it just invites trouble.” She complained. He walked into the kitchen and sat down.
“Not for now…I just wanted to know.” He frowned; he always felt as if he had to explain himself. Therapy was helping him sort out things, and the clothing was one part of his puzzle.
“It’s just that you’re a boy, and boys just don’t wear miniskirts…they don’t wear skirts.” Julia Capulano loved her child but she didn’t understand him.
“Mom…I’ve got to get ready… I just wish you could see that.” He put his head down; another morning of passive-aggressiveness promised to disappoint as his mother answered.
“Look at you…I don’t know why you insist on making trouble for yourself. I told you that you could dress up all you like at home. Why do you have to do this?” She pointed to him. His makeup was much more subdued, but still said anything but boy. His top was almost neon green, covered by a long gray cardigan. His jeans were pink and his shoes were sensible in function, but nearly matched the green of his top.
“You look like that boy singer we saw on that program the other night.”
“I wasn’t going for boy singer, Mom.” He shook his head.
“And I suppose you’re going to go to that meeting again?” She almost huffed as she sat down with her coffee.
“You mean that meeting for “THEM?” He joked, but she didn’t laugh.
“You’re a boy, and that’s the truth of the matter, Alan.”
“I’m a girl, Mom. And you were there; we both talked with Melissa about all of the things she and I discussed. She wants me to see another doctor. That guy in Sparta is a hack; he doesn’t have any experience in this and all he wants to do is to give me an anti-d!” It was almost remarkable how things would turn in an instant. The boy-girl was almost placid and timid, even, until confronted about her gender. The courage to be came up in odd ways at odd times.
Sure, she cried a lot; who wouldn’t cry when confronted daily about being a fag or a sissy. To use an old saw, her best friend Akemi was a 'fag', and she didn't even know what a sissy was. She wasn’t gay, as far as she knew, and the only reason they used those names was to hurt and to be cruel in their own ignorance. She was trying to find her way in a world that included only one parent and no support.
“Melissa said that you should try to call me Alicia as much as possible when we’re at home…to get used to it.
“But your name is Alan. After your father.”
“You mean the father who left you and me when I was seven months old? That father?” She stopped trying to hide the bitterness in her voice a long time ago. But even at that, the hurt still hit her whenever she heard her ‘own’ name.
“I’m not Alan. Even if I wasn’t a girl, mom, I would have changed that a long time ago if I could. But I’m Alicia…Alicia Capulano, Mom!” The frustration had already inserted itself into the conversation, and she began to cry. There’s only so much strength and courage you can muster when there’s no one guarding your back.
“I just don’t know.” Julia began to cry as well. She had raised her child the best she could under the worst of circumstances and she felt hurt and disappointed that Alan didn’t appreciate what she had done. With some creativity and very little support from her own family, she had managed to go back to school part time and had earned a graduate degree in accounting, and had provided a comfortable life for her and her son.
“Well, that’s an improvement,” Alicia said sarcastically, but felt guilty at the hurt look on her mother’s face.
“Mom…I’m who I am…If you don’t know, then can you at least try to trust that I do?” Julia looked at her child and while she wasn’t convinced that she no longer had a son, she was getting to the place of trusting that her child knew who he was…who she was. She even mouthed
‘Alicia’ as her face showed less confusion.
“Yeah, Mom…Alicia,” the girl said aloud and squeezed her mother’s hand, happy at least for the glacier-like movement toward acceptance. Julia smiled through her own tears and lifted the girl’s hands to her lips and kissed it.
“I just love you…that’s all,” she said almost as an explanation. Alicia forced a smile and bit her lip, wincing at the sore that had started to form. It would have to do.
“I love you, too, Mom.”
The next morning...
“Hello, can I help you?” The man at the door seemed put-out, but he smiled and the girl stepped back slightly.
“Yes. Thanks. My name is Al...Alicia Capulano...we live across the street?” She pointed and the man glanced over at the house; a near identical match to his own.
“Yes?”
“I was wondering if your daughter is home?” The man looked at Alicia in puzzlement.
“I’m sorry, I don’t have a daughter.” He said it softly, with an odd tone that Alicia couldn’t identify.
“Oh, gosh…I must have the wrong house. She just pointed. I didn’t notice you move in either. You folks must be new too, huh? My mother and I live across the street. She’s Julia, by the way," she repeated.
“Well, hello; Nice to meet you. I’m Cap…I’m David…David Martino. I live with my son, Danny.”
“Oh…Danny? I haven’t met him yet,” Alicia said, unconsciously stressing the pronoun.
“He’s in his room. Let me get him. Danny?” The man smiled and continued.
“There’s a young lady at the door; she’s our neighbor from across the street.” He nodded at Alicia and smiled again.
“We’ve only just moved from Italy last month; I was stationed there…Air Force. Ah, here he is.” Mr. Martino looked relieved as a boy approached the door. He looked surprised and his face reddened.
“HI…” Alicia put out her hand and the boy shook it gently. “I’m Alicia, your neighbor. Your Dad tells me your name is Danny?”
“Ah….Dante, actually, after the poet? My mom loved poetry.” The boy looked almost wistful, and he put his head down slightly, avoiding eye contact.
“Poetry…that’s nice. Is your mom home?” Alicia already knew, but she was so upset that kindness took a back seat to her disappointment. The boy looked shocked, but answered.
“No…My Mom died two years ago…cancer.” He bit his lip and tears came to eyes. Alicia stared into the face of sadness and felt ashamed. She closed her mouth and her own tears seemed to match the boys as she shook her head slightly.
“I…I’m so sorry,” she said, almost feeling as bad for her meanness as for the boy’s loss.
“Well, these things happen,” Mr. Martino said from behind the boy, causing an almost indiscernible wince from the boy’s shoulders.
“Still, it must be hard. My dad walked out on us when I was a baby. I’ve never had a father. You must be proud of your son.” Alicia said and immediately realized what she just did. Another wince; the boy before her wasn’t at all like what she expected. Had she not heard the name Danny or met Dana the day before, she would have sworn that the boy before her was just another girl wearing her brother’s sweats.
“Danny is my pride and joy. He’s a great young man.” At the word ‘man’ Danny pursed his lips slightly and his eyes began to fill with tears. Alicia looked around as she thought before speaking up.
“I’ve got to get going; just a walk down to the 7-11, maybe you can walk with me, Danny?” She said, and she purposefully allowed her voice to trail off slightly at the mention of the boy…the boy’s name.
“Sounds like a good plan. I’m glad there’s someone in the neighborhood Danny’s age. Sure nice to meet you, Miss.?”
“Capulano…Alicia…and my mom’s name is Julia.” Before the boy had a chance to speak, Alicia grabbed his arm and pulled him along down the steps and onto the sidewalk.
“I’m sorry. I should have said something the other day. Dad was out, and it was my only time all week.”
“So who are you,” Alicia snapped, sloughing off the boy’s excuse with a glare.
“It’s Dana…Dad….doesn’t understand.” The boy persona disappeared instantly and the girl she had met grabbed her arm, squeezing her.
“You mean…he won’t understand.” Dana stopped walking and squeezed Alicia’s arm harder. She turned and looked back down the block before looking back at Alicia. She began to shake slightly and the tears began to flow.
“He thinks…that Mom….indulged me. He won’t listen and he just…” She began to choke up.
“A phase? A feeling? How about ‘you’re just confused,’” Alicia said with a quiver to her laugh.
“Why, honey. You’re such a handsome boy.” She said it, imitating her mother’s pleading, as if she was standing there, wringing her hands.
“I didn’t raise my boy to be a sissy.” Dana choked back a sob. They walked around the corner and Alicia led her over to a bench under a bus stop. Sitting her down, she tried to smile. But her own disappointment and pain got in the way, which was actually a good thing, since she understood her new friend completely.
“He…took an early retirement…I think because of me.” She shook her head.
“Because you’re a girl?”
“Because he thinks there’s something wrong with me. At least that’s what he said; that he talked with the base shrink, and that he recommended I get…help. All the help I need is right down there,” she said, pointing in the direction of her house.
“My mother cries when she thinks about it, but it’s gotten better. I think she’s coming around, if I could only get her to listen to someone who knows….” At the word knows, she looked at Dana and an impish grin crossed her face.
“I’ve got an idea, okay?” Dana looked up and half-smiled before wiping her face with her sleeve.
“Anything is better than this.” She pointed to her body in a broad gesture.
“Does your father go out…do you have any….you know…Dana time? Like the other day?”
“Yeah…he’s working part-time as a consultant at Picatinny Arsenal, he goes in at ten or so and comes home at five…a couple of days. Tomorrow, in fact…he’s got a trip to upstate New York.” Her face brightened just a bit.
“Okay…we’ve got off the next two days ‘cause of the teacher’s conference. And my mom works from home on Fridays. How would you like to meet Alan and his mom?” She smiled impishly once again.
“I don’t understand. Why would meeting me make a difference?” She shook her head until Alicia finished.
“Not you, silly. YOU!”
That Friday...
“Hi, can I help you?” Julia stood at the door way and greeted the young lady. She was dressed in a hip length jersey dress in olive and black stripes with a black leather jacket over black leggings with ballet slippers. The girl’s hair was black and she wore multiple gemstones as studs in her ears. Almost Goth-lite.
“Hi. I’m Dana? Dana Martino. My Dad and I just moved in across the street last month. I was wondering if Alan is home? I wanted to ask him about the term paper due next month and I didn’t have his number.” She really didn’t have to play anything up. The assignment was real, and so was the girl in front of Ms. Capulano.
“Oh, yes. I think he’s in his room.” She stepped away from the door and yelled, “Alan? You have a friend here… Dana?”
A moment later, a familiar figure walked down the hallway. Perhaps too familiar, as evidenced by the look on Julia’s face.
“Hi….I’m so glad you came. You met Mom, huh? She’s terrific.” The girl hurried over to her mother and gave her a hug; Julia patted her on the back awkwardly taking note of her clothing. But for a slight difference in height, the two girls were near twins with identical outfits.
“Why don’t you stay for lunch; that way Mom can get to know you a bit.” Alicia resisted the urge to wink at her co-conspirator.
“I…must say, you’re….” Julia searched for the word to accurately describe Dana, but there was no use; as much as she tried, she settled on ‘sweet.’ She turned back and looked at Alan…Alicia…it was so confusing, but she knew in her heart that he child wasn’t confused at all.
“Ms. Capulano, may I ask a question?” She gently touched Julia’s arm and the woman thought to pull back, but the girl’s face was so sweet.
“I’ve got a problem, and I can’t talk to my Dad about it. Alicia says that you understand more than anybody about this, and I figured why not get some advice from another woman.” Alicia listened to her friend speak and bit her tongue slightly to stifle a giggle.
“Since my Mom died, he’s been awfully lonely; maybe even a lot lonely, and I don’t know what to do. He’s a really nice guy, and I hate to see him all alone. But I don’t want to do something stupid…like matchmaker or set something up. He just needs to…you know…”
Julia nodded her head and smiled, but she really didn’t know.
“Maybe we can have them both over; you know, like ‘welcome to the neighborhood?’”
“I don’t know, Alan…oh…” She shook her head once.
“Listen…how about you invite them for pizza…less formal…no threats at all?” Alicia nodded her head and Dana smiled at Julia.
“Please?” Her eyes seemed to deepen, almost like a puppy in one of those paintings.
“Would…Next Saturday be okay?”
“Saturday would be perfect.”
“Honey…I think her Dad needs to meet my son…at least for the first time?” Alicia nodded reluctantly; she felt bad about manipulating her mother, but something had to reach both parents, and the girls were almost desperate at that point.
The following Saturday...
“Hi, I’m Dave… Martino. It’s awfully nice of you to invite us.” Julia held out her hand and Dave shook it softly.
“Julia…Capulano….nice to meet you. The kids are down the hall. Pizza should be here any minute.”
“You’ve very kind; may I offer to pay?” Dave tilted his head, a bit fearful for a rejection.
“Oh….that’s okay, ‘maybe next time?” She shuddered ever so slightly?
“Next time?” He thought.
“Next time?” She thought.
They were interrupted a moment later by the doorbell. Julia handed the delivery boy some cash and Dave took the Pizza and a bag and placed them on the dining room table with a nod from Julia.
“Kids, dinner’s here.” Julia called down the hallway before getting a bottle of wine and a bottle of pomegranate blueberry juice out of the fridge. As she was sitting down, two figures walked into the dining room. They wore matching dark blue denim mini-skirts over black tights and ankle length boots. Each wore a red jersey top under a black leather jacket. Both tops had writing on them; Dana’s read ‘Hi, Dad’, and Alicia’s read ‘Hi, Mom.’
“I’m sorry,” both parents turned to each other as their words almost harmonized. They turned and looked at the two girls sitting at the table; both girls were smiling.
“I have to apologize for my son,” they said, this time Julia’s words sounding like an odd echo.
“I’m sorry.” Alicia said; the nervous tension of anticipation broke and she began to cry. Dana put her hand on the girl’s shoulder and rubbed it softly. As she spoke, both parents gazed at the two, their attention shifting back and forth.
“I….Is Dana a boy?” Julia asked softly, but her attention was on her own child.
“She…he…” Her voice trailed off when she realized just what Alicia had meant to say in the surprise they saw before them. She reached over and tapped Dave’s arm. He was staring at Dana; maybe seeing her for the first time.
He looked at Alicia and tilted his head, almost as a question.
“Mr. Martino…Captain, Sir? I’m …I’m sorry we tricked you…but …oh I am so sorry.” Alicia put her head down on her arms on the table and wept.
“Dad? You see what I’ve been trying to say? Ms. Capulano? What Alicia has been trying to say? This was our last chance to reach you. We need you two to know who we are. And we…I know you love me, Dad…but I need you to love ME…the me I am, you know? And she needs you to love her for who she is…trust us…we know?”
“I am so sorry, Danny…I should have listened.
“And I should have listened to you….” Julia struggled to say the name; as if letting go of ‘Alan’ was like finally letting go of another.
"Alicia."
A bit later...on the front steps…
“We did it. We did it.” Alicia could hardly contain her glee, even if she was crying at the same time. She pulled Dana closer and hugged her. Their lips touched and they kissed. A moment later, the two pulled back and stared, tears in their eyes as they shook their heads no. Dana touched Alicia’s cheek softly and smiled.
“Sisters?”
Alicia nodded as she pulled her best friend ever into a warm sisterly embrace.
"Sisters!"
Sometime later, Newton, New Jersey…
“What the fuck, Narcise? What’s going on in that head of yours?” Jack actually rapped him on the top of his head with his knuckles. He hit him hard enough for him to wince, but Kenny remained silent as he had closed his eyes in a state of dreamy distraction. He didn’t really take care for where he was going and he felt strong, desperate hands yank him back suddenly as he just missed stepping in front of a town dump truck that barreled down the road.
“Fuck, Narcise, what the fuck is the matter with you?”
Kenny would have told him if he thought Jack would keep a secret, but Jack talked more than an annoying passenger on a three-hour bus trip. He did allow himself the luxury of speaking the name that had enamored him in his mind. And for that he got distracted one more time as he walked directly into the tall post for the Stop sign on the corner of the intersection. The last thing he remembered before hitting his head on the curb was that Jack had his hand out in a vain attempt to keep him from falling. And in his mind’s eye, he gazed longingly and frightfully ashamedly at the face that launched a thousand distracting accidents; Alicia Capulano.
Meanwhile at the Martino home...
Alicia stared at the image in the mirror. She shook her head; freckles that most might think endearing embarrassed her, and she was shaky in the confidence department before she even looked at herself.
“Oh, come on. You’re cute!”
Dana grinned. A bond between them made almost everything they said to each other about each other undeniable. Nevertheless, Alicia struggled with the complement. It was true that she’d received a whole lot of confused acceptance from her mother of late, but she’d been back and forth between being confident and insecure. As much as she loved her mother, she’d never known her Dad; a reasonable functional if entirely selfish bastard who left her and her mother alone when she was a baby. She found herself feeling almost jealous of Dana in that regard. Once Dave had realized he actually had a daughter instead of a son he’d embraced his child whole heartedly.
“Dad told me the other day that I’m very cute, and you know how hard that had to be.” She half-smiled at the thought before continuing.
“And he’s said we’re almost like twins, so that means if I’m cute, then you’re cute, too! So there!” She stuck out her tongue and laughed. Alicia tried to stifle a laugh but failed and began to giggle.
“I think the freckles do a great deal to bring out that Northern Italian complexion. You’re a classic.”
“Classic cry baby…”
“Your Mom loves you…she’s just not quite there yet.”
“Easy for you to say.” Alicia snapped, but she softened her tone.
“I know. Mom …. I think she sees that old part of me as something….”
“Something that ties you to your Dad?”
“Yeah… Like maybe somehow if he ever came back…. He wouldn’t be scared away if I was still Alan? I don’t know.” Dana rubbed her back.
“I know she wants to love you and that she does want to understand. Dad was like that, but I think he understood quickly because I’m so much like Mom. You know? Not just resemble, but really a lot like her. You’re nothing….nothing at all like your Dad. You’re brave and strong and caring…. He was…” Dana paused; it’s hard to speak ill against a friend’s parent, even it is the truth.
“I know. I guess I’m like what he should have been…or was? I remind her of him, and that hurts a lot. And she’s...” Alicia turned her head in thought.
“Lonely… she’s just like anybody who’s lost someone. It was hard for Dad to accept…. I mean Mommy was never going to get better and he hoped and I hoped.” She blinked back a few tears.
“But he …we both got over it…. We leaned on each other, I guess.”
“And Mom’s leaned on me since I can remember. “
“So maybe she needs to find someone else to lean on. You know….” Dana’s eyes gleamed; an almost conspiratorial grin crossed her face, leaving no doubt where she was headed. What should have been a “Parent Trap” moment filled with giggles and smiles went a tad south as Alicia began to cry.
“Now what did I say?” Dana put her arms up in frustration.
“You and me…If they got together? Then we’d really be sisters.”
“I’d have a new Mom.” Dana smiled; she was glad but her enthusiasm was tempered with a realistic understanding that things don’t often work out as nicely as they do in the movies. And any enthusiasm Alicia might have had was dampened by the fact that she and her mother had serious man issues. As much as most of her was grounded and secure, she found herself pulling back.
“Dad isn’t anything like your Dad, Ali….” Dana half-frowned defensively.
“I know. But my Mom is exactly like she’s been all along, and if I’m afraid to hope…. I don’t think she’ll ever be ready.” She put her head down and sighed before crying again. Dana redoubled her efforts to comfort her and spoke softly.
“Well, alrighty, then!” Dana patted her best friend on the back; a gesture of encouragement as much as consolation.
“I guess Mr. Martino has to show Ms. Capulano just how trustworthy men can be, right?” Alicia looked at her sideways, almost unconvinced. Dana tilted her head and grinned; her right eyebrow arching slightly.
“Right?” Dana elbowed her playfully and Alicia smiled, blinking back her remaining tears before saying,
“Right.” Alicia forced a smile that widened a bit.
“Wait a second…. Your Dad called you cute?” Dana shrugged and answered.
“Well…. Not exactly. He did say I looked okay. That’s about as ‘cute’ as that’s gonna get.”
“Right,” Alicia said. She seemed lost in thought for a moment before finishing.
“Okay works for me.”
The Narcise home…
“Are you fucking serious?” Jackie Pietrowski shook his head as Kenny sat on his front porch; a freezer pack wrapped in a dishtowel placed against his still-aching head. He glared at Jackie but put his head down; an almost-shameful look crossed his face. His anger flattened out and he spoke in a hoarse whisper,
“Yes…”
“She’s a fucking guy….Are you fucking crazy?”
“Listen, Jackie….” Kenny raised his voice but it lapsed quickly back into the hoarse whisper as he pled,
“I don’t know…. You can’t ….Don’t”
“Oh fuck yeah…. I’m not about to tell anyone that my best friend is queer.”
He was about to add ‘not that there’s anything wrong with that’ but thought better of it. As hostile and ignorant as it sounded, there was at least a confused sincerity in his tone. He shook his head and Kenny frowned before continuing.
“She’s not like a guy…oh fuck…”
Kenny wasn’t one for sentimentality by any stretch of the imagination, but who can figure out what attracts any boy to any girl anyway, or even to any boy for that matter? He did something Jackie had only witnessed once in all the years he’d known Kenny. When they were ten, Kenny had gotten a beating from his Dad. Not a spanking in the truest sense, but a real beating by a soon-to-be incarcerated father that evoked reluctant but unavoidable if understandably shameful weeping that only came out after his father was put in the back of a Sussex County Sheriff’s car.
“I don’t ….” Kenny pulled his hood over his eyes and began to shake as he began to cry. Jackie didn’t know what to do at that point other than put his hand on Kenny’s shoulder.
“Girls…. Fuck em!” Jackie completely missed the irony of his statement even as Kenny started to laugh. He pulled his hood back and stared at his best friend before crying once again.
“Oh fuck!” Jackie said before half-smiling; a signal that no matter how uncomfortable and embarrassing his continued allegiance to his friend was, he would support Kenny as best as an equally awkward sixteen-year-old friend can. But he added,
“You’ve had my back since Bobby Cohen beat the crap outtalk me in sixth grade.” Jackie nudged Kenny with his forearm.
“I think he’s still got a sore jaw from where you popped him. Anyway, I’m not about to walk away from you.”
“But ….” Kenny put his head down and shook it side to side slowly.
“Yeah…I know…I know! There’s gonna be a whole bunch of shit flying your way if this ever gets out.” He grinned.
“It will get out….”
“You’re gonna talk to her, aren’t you?” Jackie leaned forward and turned slightly as if he was struggling to hear Kenny.
“Yeah….I think I am.”
“Fuck!”
“Yeah….fuck…..”
Later that evening…
“Dad?” Dana sat on the love seat across from her father. Dave looked up from the novel he was reading.
“Yes?” Still a military-minded man, his words were usually as economical as possible. He had tried very hard to used endearments like ‘honey,’ and ‘sweetie;’ words much more suited coming from his late wife. But he and Dana both realized that just the smile in front of his intended effort to understand was enough.
“What do you think of Alicia’s mom?”
“Well, you don’t waste time with small talk, I’ll give you that.” He laughed softly; what once might have been considered a sarcastic rebuke instead showed a side of him that was emerging slowly after a combination of grief and misunderstanding was finally fading away.
“She’s a very nice woman.” Still economical, but very revealing.
“Yeah, Dad. She’d make a very nice addition to the household, don’t you think?” Dave lowered his reading glasses slightly and peered at Dana before shaking his head; a smile crossing his face.
“Yes, she would make a nice addition to the household.” Dana squinted and tilted her head in surprise.
“You’ve thought about this?”
“Why, yes I have…” He paused; almost as surprised at his words as his daughter.
“I’ve been meaning to ask her to dinner.”
“Well, there’s dinner and then there’s dinner.” Dana grinned. She had always been a bit playful even before Dave had realized Dana could be a girl’s name instead of a boy’s, so to speak.
“Dinner like in ‘Ms. Capulano, would you like to join us for dinner?” He said it with such a deadpan face that anyone but Dana would have believed him. She just laughed and held her arms out a bit and shrugged as if to say, ‘come on!’
“Why don’t you and Alicia plan on spending tomorrow night out at the movies and pizza… on me.” He reached into his wallet and pulled out a wad of cash and handed it to her. She stared at the money in her hand and grinned.
“No…” He said with a smile. She tilted her head in question and he continued.
“I never ask anyone to marry me on the first date.” Deadpan once more, but Dana bit her lower lip and looked off and down in thought. There were times when even she didn’t know when he was kidding. He laughed softly and went to walk away.
“Dad?”
“Yes?” He turned toward her and nodded for her to continue.
“You …. You really do like her? Like really like her a lot?” Dave smiled without speaking and stepped closer to her. Dana looked into his eyes and saw that peace that she hadn’t seen in quite some time; that ease that went missing for so long as both of them struggled. First with her mother’s death and then as they both came to grips with who she really was. It was comforting of course, but what he did next surprised her; perhaps even surprised him.
“Yes… “ He pulled her into an awkward hug; embraces of any kind had become out-of-place in the Martino house since her mother died. She looked into his eyes once more and saw tears in his eyes. He shook his head and turned it to the side.
“Dad….it’s okay. I think Mom would want this for you.” She touched his arm and he turned his face to her once again. His eyes widened in hopeful question; weren’t new beginnings confined to his child’s discovery and acceptance. She smile and began to weep, burying her face in his chest. He wrapped his strong arms around her and patted her back. The Martinos had just taken another step in their journey toward wholeness; a wholeness that would go beyond their home.
Saturday night, Dominick’s Pizza, Newton, New Jersey…
Dana and Alicia sat across from each other in a booth near the front window. The waitress had just placed their drinks on the table when two familiar figures entered the restaurant. Dana shrugged nervously as the bane of her brief existence sidled over.
“Go away…please?” Dana pled as Kenny stood next to the booth.
“I… I need to talk to you.”At the words, Dana shuddered. Alicia reached across the table and held Dana’s hand. Kenny glanced at both girls nervously before continuing.
“I mean it. Can I please talk to you?” His voice was subdued and he used one of those magic words that gain almost immediate attention when spoken by boys like him.
“What?” Dana shook her head. It was probably the first civil word he’d spoken to her since second grade when they were on the same kickball team at recess.
“I…I wanted…” Jackie grew impatient and rudely nudged Kenny in the ribs with his elbow.
“I wanted to apologize.” He blurted the words out and was going to turn when Jackie steered him back to face the girls. Dana shook her head but Alicia glanced at her with a smile while patting her hand. She rose and stepped out of the booth; barely missing Kenny as she sat down next to Alicia while pointing to the empty bench. Kenny sat down. Jackie went to walk away but Kenny grabbed him and glared as if to say, ‘oh no you don’t.’
“What did you want?” Dana asked nervously. She’d been fooled way too many times over the past several years by Kenny’s feigned repentance; only to be disappointed by yet one more cruel comment or joke. Kenny matched her nervous posture.
“I’m sorry.” He paused. After a few awkward seconds of silence he continued.
“I was wrong.” Perhaps the first time in his life, the words escaped his lips quickly; the thankful task completed, he went to rise, but Jackie was blocking his exit.
“Tell her.” Jackie uttered two words that seemed to cut through the tension as his sincerity validated Kenny’s attempt at being human. Dana turned her focus to Jackie and she peered at him. He looked back, realizing it was the first time either he or Kenny had acknowledged Dana’s ‘existence,’ in a way. He grinned sheepishly and nudged Kenny to continue.
“You…. I’ve decided you’re a girl.” It wasn’t how he meant to say it, but it came out in the worst possible way.
“Oh…Thank you so much, Kenny Narcise. I’m so glad you decided I’m a girl,” Dana said with an attempt at sarcasm that was tempered by the sad if brief history she shared with him.
“Oh….that’s not what I meant,” Kenny pled, demonstrating a heretofore unknown sensitivity. She looked at him and stared impatiently before turning away; red faced and embarrassed. He shook his head and turned to face Alicia. She smiled at him. A smile he could simultaneously do without and welcome whole-heartedly. She patted Dana’s arm.
“I meant I realized I was wrong about you. I… You’re a girl, okay?” The words were hurried but for the last few, which almost sounded tender; at least as tender as she was going to hear from an awkward teenage boy.
“You…You’re serious?”
“Yes.”
“Tell her why,” Jackie interjected impatiently. The exchange was interrupted as the waitress returned with a large pizza. As she placed the pizza on the table, Jackie looked longingly. Alicia noticed and nodded, prompting Jackie to grab a slice. He went to take a bite, but paused long enough to repeat,
“Tell her why….”
“I…” Kenny looked at the door nervously, anticipating the entrance of a horde of classmates eager to listen in to his confession. Steeling himself against his own embarrassment, he spoke, but not to Dana.
“I realized I… I liked you,” he said to Alicia. His face grew red and he turned his face to the wall.
“Like me?” Alicia’s complexion mirrored Kenny’s as her face got hot and very red. Dana’s face grew hot, but not from embarrassment. Never one to get angry, she nevertheless was upset and said so.
“You mean to tell me that the reason you’re sorry is because you like her?” She looked at Alicia and frowned. She grabbed Alicia’s hand and stood.
“Not funny at all, Kenny. I don’t care what you do to me, but you’re not going to hurt her too.” Kenny reached up and went to grab her hand but thought better of it. He held it out instead and spoke.
“I’m….I’m not trying to be funny, Dana. Really.” It would have seemed to Dana to be yet another ploy of his, but look Kenny’s eyes spoke otherwise. She went to step away but Alicia grabbed her hand and held fast. She sat down and faced Kenny. Jackie had finished his second slice and was reaching for a third when Kenny shook his head. Jackie grabbed Dana’s Diet Coke instead and downed it quickly.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make such a big deal of it.” Dana glared once again at his words but he shook his head emphatically.
“I mean I didn’t want to make it all about me…oh fuck.” He lowered his head slightly and practically talked into his chest.
“I mean… I realized I like her….” He paused and lifted his head and looked at Alicia.
“I like you. I ….”
“So you like her.” Dana snapped defensively.
“I mean…. When I…I figured that I liked her and it….” He paused; the words seemed to be stuck. Jackie did something totally uncharacteristic for him, but Kenny’s epiphany seemed to drag him kicking and screaming in a sense into his own humanity as well.
“He figured that he liked you first…”
“Of course he liked her first! That’s what he just said.”
“Oh fuck….” Jackie’s look seemed to plead, leading Dana to nod as if to say, ‘go ahead.’
“He liked her…. not knowing …. It’s like it didn’t…oh fuck.” Jackie stammered; perhaps embarrassed for the first time in his life since Kindergarten when all the kids in class had money for a special lunch and he had none. Kenny tapped him on the shoulder, relieving him of his agonizing if entirely sincere attempt at being kind.
“You… I like you. You say you’re a girl…” He paused at Dana’s continued glare. She wasn’t trying to be mean, but his tendency to disappoint held her hostage to the past, so to speak. He smiled; earnestly enough that Dana’s expression softened and Alicia’s nervousness seemed to abate.
“You’re a girl and that’s what I have to remember.”
He paused, searching for words that would convey exactly how he felt. Feelings, while ever-present in his life, usually expressed themselves nearly all the time in sullen moods and angry outbursts; courtesy of his father’s example. The anger was being dealt with in therapy, but being emotional in any manner other than anger meant being vulnerable. Nevertheless, he was determined to be kind and nice and even….
“I liked you before I realized you really are a girl. I don’t know what that means.” Honesty on top of everything else? It was almost too much for him and it was entirely too much and just enough for Alicia as she began to cry. Kenny looked at Dana in plea as he went to speak.
“I didn’t…” She placed her hand on his; an uncharacteristic and altogether uncomfortable gesture for both of them, but entirely necessary as she spoke.
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” She smiled awkwardly; getting to know the real Kenny Narcise was an adventure none of them expected to take. She patted Alicia’s wrist and the girl raised her head.
“Thank you.” Was all she could manage before she buried her face in Dana’s sleeve, sobbing. A boy the next booth started laughing and Kenny began to stand. Jackie took a quick swig of Alicia’s drink before placing his hand on Kenny’s shoulder.
“I got this.” He laughed softly as he stood and walked around to the next booth. Placing his hands on the table, he leaned close to the boy and stared; his eyes widening in anger just enough to cause the boy to nod in tacit agreement that he risked his health and safety if he continued. Jackie smiled at him and walked back around and sat down. Somewhere between the glare at the boy and his return to the table, Jackie Pietrowski had just joined his best friend in renouncing his own status as a bully. Dana looked back and forth between the two of them before she did something entirely familiar but for a completely different reason.
“Th….thank you,” she stammered before she turned to Alicia and began to cry as well. Kenny reached across the table and patted each girl’s hand.
“I’m so sorry.” His nostrils flared just a bit and he wiped his face with his sleeve, ignoring the paper napkins on the table. In one moment his apology had given voice to all the unsaid words that each girl had longed to hear. He wasn’t sorry merely for his own insensitive and hateful ignorance, but also for the fact that the girls had and might even continue to endure that same hate from others. No longer a part of the problem; Kenny had just made a decision to be a part of the solution as well. He turned to Jackie and tilted his head a bit.
“Go ahead…” He began to whisper, but Jackie had already begun to speak.
“I’m so…sorry, too.” He seemed almost a bit overcome by the moment. The waitress came by and noticed both girls crying.
“I’m sorry, I’ll come back.” She went to turn, but Jackie got her attention with a wave, saying,
“Can I get a Chicken Parm to go?”
Meanwhile, at the Blue Ribbon at Culver Lake…
“You just shuddered. Are you cold?” Dave stood up and draped his jacket over Julia’s shoulders. It had grown cooler, but she spoke.
“Yes…a bit. I’m… I guess I’m not used to this much attention.” She sighed and grabbed the water glass; quickly interrupting her own words as she sipped. He nodded.
“Me, too. I’m feeling a bit….out of place.” He was about to make his old ‘I’m a military man’ excuse, but took a deep breath for courage.
“I can remember how much I cared about Greta, but I can hardly remember what it was like when we did things like this…” He used his hand in a sweeping gesture. Julia nodded.
“When Alan and I went out, it was usually with a client; I don’t even remember if we ever went out on dates much.” She lowered her head slightly in embarrassment. Dave leaned closer and lifted her chin gently.
“I’m sorry he didn’t appreciate you.” He might as well have said ‘love you,’ or any other phrase of endearment. She began to tear up.
“You deserve to be …” His voice trailed off and he sighed heavily as he felt guilty for everything her ex-husband had given her or neglected to give her. She shook her head in protest. As she went to put her head down once again he touched her cheek softly.
“You deserve to be loved.” She raised her head slightly and bit her lip with a half-frown, as if to deny any and all of what was on her heart and his. He smiled.
“Yes. You, Julia Capulano. You deserve to be loved.” He really didn’t have to go on, since the smile on his face and the tears in his own eyes spoke for him, but he continued,
“By me.” Her countenance went from embarrassed to almost ashamed to relieved to joyful in an instant, and she smiled back. Dave reached into his jacket pocket and produced a ring.
“I know this is sudden; we’ve hardly known each other for…”
“Yes? Dave?” Julia put her head down slightly once again in familiar fear. A second later she felt his presence by her side; a presence that was quickly followed by the most romantic kiss she had ever received. He paused only long enough to say,
“Yes, Julia…If you’ll have me?”
“Oh yes…yes.” She spoke even as his lips met hers again. One of the waitresses standing by the bar started to clap and in a few seconds every patron was applauding. All Julia noticed was her own soft cooing and the sweet aroma of Dave’s cologne along with the occasional ‘yes’ they both spoke.
A few days later…
“Hey Narcise…heard you like boys.” The banter might have been merely stupid and typical but for the mean sneer from the kid standing against the chem lab door, barring his way. He lifted his hand to push his way past but thought better of it. Jackie, on the other hand, saw no need for prudence and shoved the boy rudely aside, sending him careening into one of his friends.
“You don’t have to be my bodyguard, Jackie. I’m fine.” Kenny was nearly as tall as Jackie and athletically built in a wiry sort of way; great for baseball and maybe as a guard on the basketball team but hardly the sort of wrestler like his best friend. Still, Jackie’s expression seemed oddly put out.
“Jeez, Jack… No big deal. I’m glad you think of me…” he paused when he noticed Jackie was stepping back. As he went to lean against the alcove of the doorway he faltered.
“You okay?”
“I’m feeling….fucking weird.” He shrugged his shoulders and they entered the lab, but as Kenny followed he thought of the expression on Jackie’s face and it worried him.
A few days later…
“You mean we’re going to be sisters…for real?” Dana looked back and forth between Julia and Dave and smiled with a slight shrug. She knew her father well enough to know that if anyone might be able to see Alicia for who she was, it would be him. She wasn’t so sure about her new mother-to-be. But the day was a day of surprises. Julia stood up and walked to the sofa and stood with her hands offered to both girls. Dana stood up right away, but Alicia hesitated, holding her right hand close to her.
“I guess I’m going to have a daughter after all…” Her voice trailed off as she looked back at Dave. Alicia began to shake her head no, placing her hand across her face. Julia smiled and lifted Alicia’s chin and continued.
“I should say…. I’m going to have a daughter after all to go along with the one I already have.” Alicia’s eyes widened and Julia nodded; tears dripped off her chin onto the girl’s knee as she leaned closer.
“I’m so sorry for putting all my stuff on your shoulders. I never should have asked you to be something you weren’t, but it took the love of a man to remind me that you’re a young lady. Can you ever forgive me?” Dana rubbed Julia’s back and kissed her on the cheek as Alicia began to sob; tears of relief and joy fell freely for all four as the family became whole in so many ways.
Later that week…
“You guys set a date?” Dana asked her father as they sat down for dinner. Dave nodded as he took a sip of cranberry juice.
“Well?”
“Sorry….sometime in May….depends upon our own schedules, but no later than the week before Memorial Day.” Dana grinned.
“You know Ali and I will be having mad parties and all sorts of stuff while you two are off to Hawaii or wherever you guys are going for your honeymoon.”
“Yeah…I should just call the police and have them drop by. ‘Gee, Mr. Martino; the feathers were all over the house from the pillow fight! Never saw so much down in a slumber party in my life. We just had to arrest them.” Dave laughed, but Dana shook her head at what was supposed to be a clever nod to her ongoing journey.
“What did I say?” More of a not wanting to be in trouble than really feeling sorry, Dave’s tone put the girl off even more. He sighed.
“I’m sorry. Really…” He almost added ‘honey,’ but terms of endearment, almost foreign to the military man in him, were more than just uncomfortable. His smile seemed to soothe her a bit and she spoke.
“I’ll never see a slumber party. Between Alicia and Carol from my creative writing class and Tran down the street, I’ve got very few girls who actually want to be around me, much less come over to the house.”
She shook her head; it wasn’t all bright and cheery and instantly successful like some of the stories she had read. Three of the boys she had made friends with as Dante completely turned their backs once she came out as Dana, and one of them was positively hostile. If it wasn’t for Jackie and Kenny, she wouldn’t even have any boy friends at all. And that felt odd even as she thought of the words put together; boyfriends? She looked away and bowed her head, as if she had done something wrong.
“What’s wrong? I’m sorry…Dana…” Dave’s voice trailed off. Even with the concerted effort to push past old beliefs, it still felt strange on occasion; mostly when they talked about ‘the issue.’ Asking about class or about writing was no problem, but Dave was still wending his way through the labyrinth of transgender, trying to keep up with his daughter. She turned back at the mention of her name; smiling weakly with some tears in her eyes. He sighed.
“I haven’t been here for you for so long.” That neglect that some military kids feel even as ‘normal’ children. And it had been compounded at the loss of her mother and the discovery that he was a she all along. She bit her lip.
“I don’t feel like I fit in, Dad. At all.” He stared at her; part of him hoping that she’d just sigh deeply and drop the subject since he felt ill-equipped to hear her, much less help her through a problem. She shook her head at his expression but he leaned across the table and touched her wrist lightly; perhaps the first time he had been gentle in just that manner. She recoiled slightly at the unfamiliar gesture and he let go, but patted her hand as she withdrew it.
“Go ahead.” She shook her head slightly once again; more at a belief that she couldn’t convey what she felt in a way he could hear her. He surprised her.
“You don’t feel like you fit in? With your friends?” An odd if completely accurate bit of insight; he breathed out a relieved breath when she smiled slightly; glad that he heard her.
“I’m…I don’t fit in.” Dave avoided the urge to remind her that she had just repeated herself. He nodded.
“Kenny has been talking to Alicia….”
“Yes? Talking…” She threw a mock-glare at him.
“Sorry.”
“We’re all friends…just friends, Dad. But Kenny ….he’s ….He and Alicia maybe….”
“I remember that...what you all talked about. Pretty emotional from what I recall.”
“Kenny likes Alicia.” She sighed.
“Yeah…I got that. Does that bother you?”
“NO!” She shook her head.
“No…at least not that way.” Dave nodded as if he understood but Dana knew he didn’t.
“I…. Alicia keeps asking me about Jackie…. You know? Kenny’s best friend?” Dave had a vague idea since there was that boy he recalled who stuck up for them.
“He seems nice enough. What’s the problem?” He might as well said ‘what’s YOUR problem, since his tone indicated an almost disappointment; making her task of being heard all the more difficult. And that was made all the more frustratingly confusing since Dave would never have asked his son that question.
“I don’t like him.” Dave tilted his head in surprise.
“No…not that way. I like him enough as a friend of a friend, but I don’t like him as …. Oh fuck!” She turned away; her face was turning red from embarrassment and shame. It was also the first time Dave had ever heard her swear; a surprise on a variety of indistinct levels. He touched her hand again and this time she didn’t withdraw. She leaned her head on his arm and began to cry.
“What did I say….honey?” The first utterance was awkward if well-intended and completely disarming. She looked up at him and shook her head.
“No…not what you said…what I said. I don’t LIKE Jackie…” She stammered before putting her head down on his arm once again, practically pinning it to the table. He took his other hand and stroked her hair; a gesture he remembered from when she was little. She sobbed for a few moments before turning her head sideways, revealing a very sad countenance.
“You don’t like Jackie? That’s okay. He can just be a friend. There are other boys.” At the word ‘boys,’ Dana sobbed a bit more before sitting up. She shook her head and pounded her fist on her knee in frustration and shame.
“Don’t you get it? I don’t like Jackie because I don’t like boys.” She put her head on her arms and sobbed again. Dave resumed stroking her hair.
“Oh.” He said meekly; trying to understand. She was shaking her head even as it rested on her arms.
“You don’t understand….” She sobbed.
“I feel so left out…I don’t feel like I fit in….” She repeated her near plea from the beginning of their conversation. Dave shook his head; mirroring her expression. A look of confusion was swiftly replaced as his eyes widened in recognition. He spoke slowly and with as much compassion as a parent of a misfit child can speak; wanting to do more than just nod in agreement. He stood up and walked over and knelt next to her; putting his face at her level.
“It…it’s not that I don’t like boys… oh fuck…” There went that word again; the sort of language he would never have expected from her that exactly conveyed how hurt and scared she felt; that it was so hard to tell him. He half-smiled; his eyes conveyed that part of him that loved and supported his child unconditionally, which in a way gave her permission to finally say,
“I don’t like boys!
“You don’t like boys because….” He paused, hoping he was right in his understanding even as part of him picked up the confusion he had just dropped.
“You like girls?”
“Ye…yesssss….” She sobbed once again. He pulled closer to her and touched her face, wiping away the tears.
“It’s okay, Dana…really…it’s just fine.” It wasn’t quite ‘just fine,’ since emotions and beliefs and perceptions and actions and such needed to be sorted out over time, but it was entirely okay. And of course what was meant to provide a safe, supportive environment for her sounded exactly the opposite as she grabbed his arm and placed her face on it; sobbing into his sweater. For a moment he felt completely confused and entirely wrong until he felt her hand squeeze his arm in reassurance that he had said exactly what she needed to hear.
The Capulano home, the following Saturday afternoon…
Alicia sat on the couch, folding clothes and placing them on the coffee table. Dana sat across from her in the wooden rocker by the fireplace, folding towels. The doorbell rang. She got up and went to the door. Opening it, she found Kenny standing a bit askance from the doorway, looking anxiously down the street.
“Where’s Alicia???”
“Well, hello and how are you?” Dana said and pointed with her hand to the couch. Kenny pushed past her but paused long enough to speak.
“Sorry….” He strode urgently toward Alicia.
“Can your Mom give me…give us a ride to the hospital?” As he spoke Julia came out of the bedroom with a basket of clothes to be washed. She placed the basket on the easy chair by the door and spoke.
“Oh, Kenny…what…who?”
“It’s Jackie….he…he had a heart attack.”
Emergency Services, Newton Medical Center…
Dana gripped Kenny’s hand tightly on one side while Alicia held his arm. A moment later they were met in the corridor next to the entrance by a tall girl who looked vaguely familiar to the girls. Kenny stepped up to the girl and pulled her into an awkward hug. She patted his back and pulled back slightly. Apart from the slightest hint of makeup and long blond hair, Dana swore the girl looked like a younger brother of Jackie but in drag.
“The doctor said it’s okay…he’s going to be okay, but it’s….”
She began to cry. He hugged her again and spoke very quietly in her ear. She nodded and blinked back some tears. Looking more vulnerable than Dana had recalled, she realized the girl was not only Jackie’s sister but his one-time partner in crime in teasing her and Alicia. The hair on the back of her neck bristled only a bit. As Kenny pulled away again the girl looked directly at Dana and half-frowned, but the expression seemed almost out of place, even with their brief antagonistic history.
“I… you’re Kenny’s friend Dana, right?”
She spoke almost in a whisper; a far cry from the taunting Dana had heard when she and her father first moved to Newton. A couple of years can make a difference after all; the Pietrowski family wasn’t immune to grace, which meant Dana couldn’t be resistant to her own change. She stepped closer, noting that the girl was nearly six feet tall.
“I’m Irena….Pietrowski….Jackie’s sister.”
She offered her hand and Dana shook it cautiously. Obviously Irena didn’t remember their past, and it really wasn’t the time to bring it up. Alicia stepped forward. She grabbed Kenny by the arm once again, but offered her hand to Irena. The girl shook her hand and looked around, almost distracted.
“Daddy’s out of town and Mom is with Jackie. The doctor said it…they got him just in time. He’s going to be okay…” She started to cry; an almost bizarre expression considering how strong she looked and how she had treated both girls in the past. She stood up, as if to gather herself and shook her head.
“I’m sorry. I don’t get this way at all.”
Dana wanted to slap her; the girl’s brother nearly died and she’s acting like it’s about her. Dana failed to even note that in judging the girl she was almost acting in an identical fashion. Alicia stepped out of Kenny’s arm and hugged the girl. No awkwardness at all; Alicia began to cry as she rubbed the girl’s back. Too many times for all of them, it would seem, to feel scared over loss or hurt. She squeezed the girl’s hands.
“I know…you’re still afraid he might die.”
An altogether abrupt if completely accurate and needful assessment that enabled Irena to let go. She began to weep in Alicia’s arms. A moment later a tallish woman stepped out of the elevator down the hall and walked up to the group. She wore drab blue scrub pants and a colorful top with pictures of bunnies and kittens; a pediatric nurse.
“Irena? Are you okay? Honey…Jackie’s okay. I’ll be going back up in a little while. The doctor says no visitors tonight, but he should be fine for everyone to come tomorrow morning.” She said this to them as much to Irena. The family resemblance was easily seen apart from a bit of graying in her otherwise very blond hair.
“I’m Ewa, Irena’s mother. Jackie’s….”
As much strength as she had just imparted to her daughter left her and she began to cry; that place of safety with friends that helps us let go. Alicia kept one hand on Irena’s arm while reaching around to grab the woman’s hand.
“You just said he’ll be okay. He’s very lucky to have a nice family.”
It felt odd for Dana to hear her best friend say that since Irena had been perhaps even meaner than Jackie and Kenny; that rejection by a girl stung more painfully in a way. Irena shook her head. Even in the midst of an emergency, she seemed distracted until she spoke.
“Mom…these are Jackie’s friends.” Kenny nodded, looking entirely helpless. Ewa hugged the boy, making him feel welcome and awkward at the same time. She turned to face Irena. The girl made a particular point to stare at Dana; shaking her head once again. Dana went to turn, feeling discouraged and insulted once again until Irena walked up to her and hugged her; very strong arms embracing her as if to never let go.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been so bad to you. I’ve been meaning to call you ever since Jackie told me about you and her,” she said quickly in a hoarse whisper as she looked back at Alicia. The omission didn’t escape Dana’s notice and she spoke.
“Alicia…her name is Alicia.” She couldn’t even recall if Irena had ever known Alicia’s name, but neither did she make any attempt to find out.
“I’m so sorry.” Irena looked back and forth between Dana and Alicia before pulling away. She muttered something to her mother before running down the hall to the restroom.
“She is sorry,” Alicia said as she stared at the door of the restroom. She turned back to Dana and half-frowned.
“And I guess she needs to know that you know she is.” Alicia shrugged her shoulders and walked over to Mrs. Pietrowski once again, grabbing her hand.
“Don’t worry. We’ll make sure she’s okay. Why don’t you go back upstairs, okay?”
“Are you sure? Oh, thank you. Moj drogi…. Oops …sorry…. That’s ‘dear one.’ You don’t mind do you?”
Alicia shook her head no even as tears fell freely. It had taken almost all of her lifetime to hear something so sweet from someone; even her mother never had spoken so gently to her. Ewa pulled her into a hug. Kenny waved weakly; too many hugs already in one day. Dana nodded and half-smiled; feeling entirely embarrassed and ashamed. She walked up to Ewa and gave her a hug.
“I’ll walk you down to the elevator. Then I’ve got some apologizing of my own to do.” She grabbed Ewa by the arm and turned to walk down the hall, but not before she nodded at Alicia; leaving her with no clue about the gesture. After dropping Ewa off by the elevator, Dana walked over to the restroom. She knocked on the door.
“It’s not locked…” a voice came from inside. Dana pushed the door open and found the restroom to be larger than she expected. She noticed two stalls. The first was open, but the one furthest from the door was occupied.
“Irena?”
“Go away.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So you’re sorry…go away,” she gasped. Dana heard the girl’s head bonk on the side panel of the stall.
“Irena. I’m so sorry I hurt you.” It was almost odd; the prey apologizing to the predator, but there it was. She clicked the lock closed on the door before she walked over to the open stall and sat down.
“I know you are…That doesn’t change how I treated you.” She hesitated. It almost seemed that Irena didn’t want to accept the forgiveness she had to offer, but she imagined it had to be serious. Irena sighed and continued.
“I…I don’t want to make excuses, you know? But…. I guess you know all about being bullied so you probably have heard all the reasons, right? Excuses.” Dana could almost imagine her shaking her head.
“I’m…I’m not very pretty…hell I’m not pretty at all.” She choked back a sob. Dana could hardly remember exactly how the girl looked but she figured the estimate was probably fairly accurate.
“My father wanted a boy when I was born, so he’s always been….He’s gotten better, but he was never very nice with me like a dad is with a girl, you know?” Dana of course didn’t know since she spent the first fourteen and a half years of her life as a boy. She sighed in echo to the girl on the other side of the panel.
“Even after Jackie came along…when we were little he’d tease me and say stuff…not really bad, but it was like he didn’t like me even if he loved me? Oh fuck…. I don’t know how to put it.” Dana thought she put it just fine.
“And he was even worse on Jackie… Like I said…. It wasn’t so much what he did but what he didn’t do…you know?” Dana remembered the few but very painful years right after her mother died and she was left almost an orphan as her father advanced rather than retreated in his military duty. She leaned over and placed her head against the panel. She could feel a tiny bit of vibration as the girl moved her head on the other side and spoke.
“So when we got bigger…I know it was just like they say in school…we took it out on other kids. I don’t think Jackie and I ever talked about it but it was like we got together and that was that. When you moved into the neighborhood…and especially after you met your friend there…me and Jackie and Kenny…. Oh fuck. It must have been hell for you.”
“It was.” Dana said. She heard a loud gasp that quickly turned into sobs. When Irena stopped crying Dana spoke again.
“But that’s over with.” She said it with a sigh of relief, but her words evoked another gasp.
“You…you can’t understand.”
“Try me.” Dana started biting her nails in frustration.
“When I realized why I was being such a …. I knew I was wrong. But I kept it up even though it made me feel bad…. I…” she paused. Dana nodded as if Irena could see her.
“I told my mom what was going on. She was very upset but she didn’t get angry or anything. She looked at me and smiled and said….’Ah…Bobby Collier.’” Dana nodded again reflexively but then shook her head, confused.
“She said that when she was little a boy in the neighborhood teased her. She laughed…not at me but at the story and hugged me. I couldn’t figure out what the hell she meant. Then she says Babci Nita…my grandmother? She says Babci Nita told her it was because Bobby liked her. Fuck.” Dana shook her head and a moment later the girl spoke again, haltingly through tears.
“Don’t you get it? Oh fuck…” Dana thought for a moment and her eyes widened in insight even as her face grew red and hot.
“You….you like me?”
“I…I think I always have….maybe not so much when we first met…oh fuck.”
“When …when I was a boy?” It wasn’t quite true even if it was fairly accurate.
“I’m sorry…when you started….dressing? No...that’s not it. When Dana first started showing up… I think I always knew…does that make me crazy? I know…I know you’re not a boy. But I…oh fuck.”
“Yeah…oh fuck.” The words might have been a bit abrupt, but the accompanying sigh helped a great deal in speaking beyond what Dana said.
“You’re not ….you don’t…” Irena paused and gasped.
“No…, just the opposite.”
“You’re….”
“Yes… I’m just figuring it out for myself.”
“But I thought you and Jackie might….”
“Jackie and Kenny used to be the worst people in my life but now they’re like the big brothers I never had.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. Jackie is one of the nicest people I know now that he’s become….”
“Human? I wish I could say the same thing.”
“Your apology said it all, Irena. And the way you looked at Alicia; like she mattered. She’s hardly ever had that.
“I’m still sorry. I treated you and her so bad.” Dana heard Irena’s head bonk against the panel. She stood up and walked around; taking a chance, she pushed the stall door. It opened easily and Irena looked up. Her eyes were red and her face was streaked with tears.
“Come on…let’s get out of here, okay?” She offered the girl her hand and pulled her to her feet.
“You don’t hate me.”
“No…” Dana stammered a bit and her face grew hot and red all over again.
“Really? “
“Yes.” She stared at Irena. The girl was nearly four inches taller than her, but she saw something else. While she wasn’t pretty, she was attractive…striking in an odd way, in fact. And in a moment, fate seemed to have sealed a long-delayed if meticulously planned deal for the two of them as they departed the restroom as friends.
Meanwhile…
Kenny stood in the hallway by the emergency waiting room, staring at Alicia. He shook his head and laughed softly; a moment of spectacular revelation.
“What…Did I do something wrong?” Alicia stepped back slightly. Kenny shook his head no, and she beheld the first of many beneficent smiles; another new experience on a day of wonder. Kenny stepped closer, and his eyes sparkled like the reflection of fireworks in a puddle; beauty emerging from the common so to speak.
“You were wonderful.” His shoulders lifted slightly and he grinned; not silly or half-involved, but that kind of grin you get when you know that you know that you know. Almost eighteen, his path had hardly begun to light up before him, but he could see down the road clearly without obstruction. He stepped closer to her and grabbed her right hand. What he meant as a warm hug with hopeful promise or at least a bit of hope on his end immediately became much more. She looked into his eyes once again and saw more than sparkle. Embers of something else? He pulled her close.
“I ….” He stammered. The vision down the road was blurred by his own tears as he looked into her eyes and beheld the kindest, most precious girl he would ever know. And he did what most everyone would have done had they been in his place. As he went to kiss her forehead in a thankful gesture she tilted her head slightly to keep eye contact. And he kissed her lips; tentatively at first; that feeling of being unworthy and the tenderness that wishes no harm and only some blessing if anything. But she pulled back a tiny bit; long enough to speak. One word of question.
“Kenny?”
And he answered in the only way he knew how by kissing her once again; this time just as gentle but not at all tentative or fearful. As if both realized in this one single moment what life held for them and that neither would ever be ashamed again. Alicia kissed back…and it was wonderful!
Sometime later....Perona Farms, Andover, New Jersey…
"Dave...can you get me my camera? It's on the table over there." Julia waved as the group of women gathered.
A tall girl stood in the middle of the reception hall, standing even a bit taller due to the three inch heels of her white ankle boots. A moment later, several girls dove for the bouquet as it bounced off the low light fixture, landing in the arms of a seven year old girl who grinned sheepishly. The bride received a hug and kiss from the groom before turning and walking toward her maid of honor.
"I tried to angle it so you'd get it, Dana." Alicia said; the newly-wed Mrs. Kenneth Angelo Narcise then hugged her sister. She pulled back and half smiled, her eyes filled with tears.
"No worries, Sis!" She smiled back as she lifted her left hand and the left hand of the young woman standing next to her, pointing to identical rings.
"Got it covered!"
Dana turned and smiled at the ring on Irena’ s finger. Between Dana’s and Ewa’s and Julia’s attention, the girl looked very pretty, but it was perhaps owing more to the love she and Dana had discovered as their best friendship grew into something just as special but also so much more in a way.
“My baby!” Ewa came over and kissed the two before gathering her daughter in a hug.
“You next, moja córka!” She turned to Dana and nodded,
“And you!” Ewa’s father stepped close and hugged his daughter and soon-to-be daughter in law. No need for apologies; those had been exchanged long ago, and the family had come full circle. Jackie came up and spoke.
“They want you guys to come over and take a picture cutting the cake, okay?” He smiled as everyone walked back to the tables, leaving him alone with Kenny and Alicia.
“I love you guys!” He stepped close and did something entirely precious if completely unexpected as he kissed Kenny on the cheek; brother to brother. And he kissed Alicia on the forehead; also as a brother but to dearly beloved sister.
“See you over there,” he said, pointing to the cake table by the front of the hall. He gave them thumbs up before walking away. Kenny turned to Alicia.
“I love you…you know that, Mrs. Narcise?”
“Never a doubt. Well…it was touch and go for a while but yes. I know you love me. And I love you so much, Mr. Narcise!” She pulled him close; face to face since she wore her heels, and pulled him into the nicest kiss yet; only to be surpassed by each succeeding kiss for a lifetime.
“Never a doubt.”
Olympus Diner…Hawthorne, New Jersey
“Yanni….Damn it, Helen??? Didn’t you speak to the boy yesterday?” Nick looked over at his son, who was bussing the booths in the back. He had been at the diner since four that morning, and at eight in the evening, it had been a very long day. He gazed intently at his watch, almost as if he was timing the boy.
“Nicko? (pronounced Nee-ko) Leave the boy alone. He works hard and he’s the only one now that Pete is off to school.” Helen sighed. Four children, three of whom were out of the house. That left the youngest to bear the weight, not only of the demands of going to school and working at the restaurant, but the sole focus of Nick’s frustration when things weren’t going so well. And because Nick was an alarmist stranded in a sea of optimism and success, everything looked bad even when it was going good.
“It doesn’t look right to the customers. He’s a boy, and he looks more like my sister than my sister does.” Nick was always full of silly jokes and even some cruel taunts when Kelly was around, having been the big disappointment to the Macros family by coming out with her girlfriend the previous fall.
“Nicko…stop that! You know you can be so mean. Kelly loves you and would die for you…and you treat her like a stranger. Pretty soon, I may not be around, eh? And then what? Your big boys all grown up and off to school or to the football. They don’t call and they don’t even come home. Pete didn’t even call when he got to school. And what about Yanni? He works harder than anyone here, even you. What more do you want in a child. Someday you’ll look around and everyone will be gone. Think about that!” Helen shook her head. It was so hard to love someone so obstinate, but you hardly ever get to choose whom you fall in love with. Helen fell out of like with her husband years ago, however, and felt helpless in protecting her youngest.
“You coming tomorrow?” The girl stood at the counter and handed Yanni some cash. He rang up her bill and handed her the change.
“No…you keep it…maybe get a nice set of burettes?” She teased and the boy winced, wondering if his father had overheard. Thankfully, his father had turned his attention to the bakery delivery man as his voice boomed from across the luncheonette.
“I can’t. I’ve got a final Thursday and tomorrow night is the only night I’ll have a chance to study.
“You have to tell them. You just have to.” The girl’s hand reached out and grabbed his, squeezing it gently.
“Alex is watching, Mel…” She looked upward, reminding the boy about his best friend…her brother.
“I know….shhhh…. Please, Ari….don’t use that name around my Dad… He’ll kill me if he found out.”
“I’m sorry… and I’m sorry for bringing up Alex. It’s just that he loved you so much… Now that he’s gone, we only have each other.” The girl’s eyes filled with tears at the memory of her loss; Alex Polidouris gone from leukemia at nineteen, and denied even in death the life she wanted to lead. And her best friend, Yanni Macros…. Melina; since eight years old, stuck in a life that denied her any hope of being what and whom she was. Ariadne Polidouris loved Melina… like the sister she was, and she was determined that she was not going to lose this sister to foolishness and ignorance like Alex. She had begged and pleaded with her father to honor Alex’ wishes. Instead of a dear sister, the family buried a son and brother, hair shorn to a ‘proper’ length and garbed in a blue suit.
“Stephie’s going to be at the meeting…can’t you come…even for a little while. I can help you study tomorrow night. Please, Mel….Yanni…okay?”
“I’ll see.” Stephen was going to be there. The other part of the puzzle that was Yanni Macros. And he was probably right about his father. When Nicko found out about his sister, he had some friends get ‘insistent’ with Kelly’s girlfriend at her job. When all was said and done, Nicko had made his point about his sister’s choice of company, and ended up estranged to his only sibling. He was right, and that was all there was to it. If Nicko found out about Melina and the girl she had fallen in love with? Stephanie Elias…Stephen Elias was the only person besides Ari who understood Melina, and that more than anything would lead to disaster if Nicko found out.
“I need you to come right after school tomorrow,” Nicko said as he walked up to the counter. He hit a few buttons on the register and placed the bakery receipt in the drawer before pulling out a twenty. He thrust the cash into the boy’s hand.
“And get yourself a haircut…no arguments.” Nicko pointed to his belt and laughed as the boy winced. It had been a while since he and his father had one of those ‘discussions,’ but he knew his father meant business.
“Pop…I have a final the next day…I have to study.”
“You can study in the back when things get slow.” Nicko pointed to the swinging door into the kitchen.
“No arguments, boy.” Nicko laughed at the word. It was funny to him since he was demeaning his child’s age. Helen was right, of course. Nicko didn’t realize just how much he was blessed with a devoted son…a devoted child who loved him and would do anything for him. Yanni was conflicted in so many ways. He sighed as his father pat him on the back before walking away.
“Haircut…and come in right after that!”
“Oh….okay.” He turned to see that Ari was still standing at the counter.
“I’ll tell everybody that you send your love.” She spoke in a normal tone, but finished in a whisper.
“Melina.” She blew Yanni a kiss before walking out of the restaurant.
“Yanni? Take care of this mess,” the boy heard his father yell from the kitchen. He walked through the door to see a pile of dirty dishes stacked in the large sink.
“Georgie went home sick, so you gotta finish this before we go tonight."
What seemed like the longest day in the world…a day that was supposed to be a day off of school and work…became even longer. The boy looked at his father, who just pointed to the extra work; the responsible child who needed no prompting got an angry glare.
“I haven’t finished bussing, Pop. Which do you want me to do first?” A reasonable request which was answered by an even meaner glare.
“Don’t give me a hard time, Yanni…I’ve been here since noon and I’m tired. Get the bussing done quickly and then get these done.” He pointed once again to the pile, which hadn’t gotten smaller or less obvious in the past few moments.
“If you didn’t stop to talk to the girls all the time….” He walked past him and hit him hard in the arm, just below the shoulder, making sure that he used his knuckle to jab.
“Now that’s for what I didn’t catch you doing.” Nicko laughed and walked out of the kitchen leaving the boy to survey the mess. He quickly sorted silverware and plates and cups, making the job easier. He was literally walking through the door into the dining room when his father yelled one last time,
“Yanni…come on….get moving. These tables aren’t going to buss themselves. The boy put his head down and bit his lip before walking out of the kitchen.
Later…
She looked in the mirror. It was two-thirty in the morning, and school and a haircut and work already were pulling at her. She touched her face softly; her fingers brushing lightly at a lock that was destined to disappear later that day. Her eyes were on the verge, but no tears had formed as yet. Her nostrils flared and she gritted her teeth. Her face was wan; even her mother had started to notice the lack of weight; the tired look that seemed to greet everyone.
“S’ agapao! (I love you!)” She blew a kiss to her image before walking slowly to her bed. She lay down and looked up at the ceiling, seeking some sort of celestial skywriting that would help answer all of life’s questions. She shook her head once before covering her eyes with her arm. Too much loss and too much pain and too much sadness and way too much weight on the girl’s shoulders pushed her that one final inch or so toward despair and she began to sob. She turned over and looked at the empty pill container…not enough to depart, but enough to bring a night’s…an early morning’s rest as she cried herself to sleep.
Hawthorne Family Barbershop, Hawthorne, New Jersey
”Hello, Mr. Polidouris. “
Yanni walked in and hung up his hoodie on the coat rack. He hadn’t been inside the shop since Alex had died, and he really didn’t want to be there at all, for so many reasons. The man stopped sweeping the hair clippings and pointed to an empty barber chair.
“Haven’t seen you….in a while, Yanni,” he said as he forced a smile. He gestured to Yanni’s hair with his comb as the boy looked at their reflection in the mirror that spanned the length of the shop.
“No…sir….not since…” He gasped when he realized what he had just said. The man looked at him and shook his head, instead of the anticipate anger, the boy only saw sadness in his best friend’s father.
“You…you want a trim? I don’t do well with trims….maybe you wait until Stephanos comes back from lunch.” He shook his head once more and turned his back on the boy, but Yanni could see his reflection in the mirror in front of the other work station. The man had frowned, and once again his face seemed sad.
“No, sir….My Dad….well….I’ve got to….just take the clippers and take it all off.” Yanni choked back a heavy sigh, which escaped anyway.
“Whaddya mean, boy? You want a haircut or not.” He snapped at Yanni, but the tone wasn’t so much angry as it was frustrated, and it didn’t seem to be about any haircut.
“Listen….I’ll try to trim it for you,” he insisted. Yanni shook his head no, but the man had already draped a smock over the boy’s shoulders and had pulled out a pair of small snips. He began cutting the ends, carefully and precisely, just like Yanni had remembered from when he and Alex would get their haircuts together.
“You gotta listen to your Baba; Yanni….he knows what’s best for you.” The man said quietly in his right ear as he paid careful attention to the fall of hair on the back of the boy’s neck.
“That…that’s why I’m here, Mr. Polidouris. I gotta make sure I get it all taken off.” The boy looked up into the man’s eyes via the reflection and he saw that his sadness seemed to have deepened.
“Babas….they know what’s best for their children, Yanni…you know. We have to make sure that you boys grow up right….not ….not….” The man choked up and looked back at the boy’s reflection.
“Mr. Polidouris…I can come back tomorrow if you want me to? Really…I’ll just tell my dad you were too busy. It’ll be okay.” Yanni lifted his head slightly and turned it to face the man.
“What’s wrong with you kids? Why can’t you just be what we think you should be? Why do you have to ….why did my Alex have to be different?” By now the man was crying. He sat down in the chair next to Yanni and looked at the boy through the reflection once again.
“Why did he have to be like that? Why couldn’t he just be what everybody….I miss my boy, Yanni….”
Yanni leaned closer and listened intently, nodding while fighting back his own tears.
“He went away….”
“I know, Mr. Polidouris….I’m sorry he died.”
“No…we ….there was nothing we could do….but he went away….and he left someone in his place that I didn’t understand…didn’t know. His sister Ari? She knew the person….the….” The man bit his lip and cursed something under his breath.
“I’m sorry…” Yanni struggled to understand…to feel for the old man, but his own heart wasn’t in placating or comforting the one person his best friend looked up to; the one person that Alexander …Alexandra felt she could never please, no matter how hard she tried.
“NO….You don’t understand.” He seemed almost drunk, but he hadn’t been drinking; his intoxication almost seemed to arise from regret.
“You see…I don’t know how these things are supposed to go? Ask me to cut hair? A shave? A trim? That I can do. When he was born I was so proud….a boy to follow me? And then when he got older? Art? Sculpting? Painting? Even then I said to myself he’s just a bit different. But when he came to me and his mama and said he was….she was? How do I make that work? What kind of world is it where my boy isn’t a boy? I don’t understand.”
Yanni looked at the man’s face directly and he half-smiled.
“I made it work by not talking to him….not ….caring. When he got sick….I figured it was God ….punishing him for being the way he was. And after he died….after we….” Yanni‘s mind flashed to the last time he saw Alex; a boy resting in a coffin. Ari had placed a favorite teddy bear in the coffin and her father had yanked it out angrily before the viewing. She snuck it back in just before the service started.
“You didn’t understand,” Yanni said, trying to be comforting, but his anger got in the way, and it sounded like a rebuke. But the man across from him smiled and nodded.
“No, Yanni. I didn’t want to understand. I stopped talking and caring about my child, and he died thinking I hated him. God didn’t make him sick to punish him. He made him sick to punish me, because I was a bad father. He took away my boy and left someone I didn’t want to know ... someone I should have loved, Yanni. He wasn’t trying to punish me then, but that’s what I thought. Now I know better ... but it's too late. For a stupid old man, too late.” Yanni went to say something but thought better of it.
“When my boy was born…he was different ….we’re all different,” the man said as if it was a mystery; the secret he was destined to discover.
“Alexandra…. You know…that’s the first time I ever said her name. I should have listened to her, Yanni, you know? You’re a lot like her.” His eyes widened at his own words.
“Are you like her, Yanni?” The man snapped, and Yanni shrunk back in the chair in fear.
“Oh….no….I’m sorry…no…no….are you like her?” His tone softened to almost a whisper and his eyes plead forgiveness. Yanni looked at him and nodded, cringing ever so slightly at the expected anger. Alexander Polidouris Sr. stood up and stepped closer to the chair and pointed.
“No clippers…no trim…no cut today. You look just fine to me.” The man wiped the tears from his face with his sleeve.
“And now…I think I need something to eat. And maybe I have a talk with your Baba, eh?” Yanni nodded and blew out a breath.
Olympus Diner, a while later …
Alex Polidouris walked into the diner and sat down at the counter. A few moments later three girls walked in and sat down at a booth by the front door. Helen stepped over and handed them menus before walking back behind the counter.
“Alex….so good to see you. How is Marie?” Helen placed a cup of coffee in front of Alex and smiled.
“She’s…she’s doing better. “ Alex paused until Nicko had walked over before continuing.
“I can’t say enough about how you and Yanni helped out. I’m so sorry for not getting back to you. Yanni has been such a help to Ari with her studies…you know? Helped her stay focused through it all. I think Marie is beginning to hear music, smell the flowers. You know? Opa?” Helen nodded.
“Nicko…my good friend…I have so much I wish to tell you!” Nicko looked worried as Alex stood up. Grabbing him by the wrist, Alex pulled him over to a booth at one end of the diner.
“Step into my office, okay?” He laughed and Nicko laughed with him without really knowing why.
“You and me, we’re a lot alike, yes? Beautiful wives and lovely children. Life is good.” His tone seemed lighthearted until he added,
“Except when it hurts here.” He touched his chest with his palm.
“Me, I think you are hurting inside, and you need to let it out. I remember what it was like for you when we were little. My Baba took me every day to the barber shop in the summer. He gave me a book to read and something to play with. And he taught me how to cut hair. Your Baba brought you here, first light of day, sometimes even before Mr. Kanakaredes’ rooster got up. I heard you crying.”
“Not me! That was my brother Basil, God rest his soul. He could cry like a baby. If I cried, and I did once or twice? Slap in the face. I learned quick! What times!” He laughed but he looked away.
“But you learned, right?” Nicko nodded at the suggestion, feeling proud, but Alex’ words made him anything but comfortable.
“And when you didn’t learn quick? Slap. You don’t have to remind me. I was there. And I was there when he beat your sister. She was already, what? Seventeen? Like that song? And how was that? Was that a good thing that he drove her away?”
“It’s not right, Alex! It is not right!” Nicko argued, his hands out palms up as if to plead a case.
“And where is she now, Nicko, tell me. Where is your sister? Does she visit? Do you even talk? I was there, Nicko. I saw what your father did to her…and to you!”
“I don’t want to talk about this! You have no right?”
“I have every right. I have a child in the grave who cries out to me that I have every right! Your father beat you when you stood up for Kelly. ‘Buba…Kalliste is a good girl…don’t hurt her!’ Isn’t that what you said before he broke your wrist? Twisted it? And then he took your belt off of your pants and beat her! Your sister!”
“Stop…I don’t want to talk about it!”
“Nicko? When do you talk to Kalliste….Kelly she calls herself? And she lives with another woman. That must make you angry. And it’s not right. So you treat her like your father treated her? You turn your back on her?”
“You have no right. We are no longer friends!”
“You turn your back on your child like I did, Nicko. Alexandra!”
“You have no right. My boy isn’t like that!” Nicko shook his head and his eyes filled with angry tears.
“Yanni isn’t a boy, Nicko, and you know it. You don’t have four sons. You have three sons and one daughter.”
“Ah, you don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re crazy.”
“I was crazy, but no more. My daughter cries out to me from her grave. I am ashamed of the way I treated my child!” Alex bit his upper lip and looked away.
“What does that have to do with me, old friend?” Nicko said sarcastically. Alex smiled and leaned closer.
“It means, my dear old friend, that I don’t want you to make the same mistake I did. It’s too late for me and for Marie with my child….why Marie sits at home all day and cries after all this time.”
“Ah!’ Nicko gestured a wave of dismissal, but Alex shook his head and smiled again; warm and welcoming despite the anger sitting across the booth from him.
“It’s too late for us, but it doesn’t have to be too late for you and Helen and Yanni. No…sorry, excuse me, Melina!”
“You stop that. That was my mother’s name!” Nicko glared at Alex.
“Yes, I know. That is why your daughter chose the name. Melina? Meli…sweet like honey. I remember your mother. The sweetest person I ever met.”
“You leave my mother out of this!” Nicko raised his voice.
“I didn’t bring her into this, Nicko. Your daughter did…to pay respect. More respect than your father ever did.”
“I loved my father!”
“I loved my father too, but I never respected him. And did I grow up just like him? No. I took my lead from my best friend's father. It took my daughter to die to change me. Don’t wait until someone dies or moves away for ever before you change, Nicko.” Alex looked over at the counter and Helen stood there, weeping. Nicko’s eyes followed Alex’ gaze over to the counter where he saw his wife. She stood still, but the look on her face begged her husband’s change.
“You have a daughter, Nicko. I think you should take the time to get to know her. She works harder than your sons ever did combined. And she loves you. After all that you’ve shown her? After the teasing and the hitting and the insults? She loves you, Nicko. Your sister still loves you, but you won’t have her. Make room in your heart before it’s too late. I can never hold my Alexandra…ever again. Hold her while you have a chance, my friend.” Alex stood up and patted his friend on the shoulder before walking toward the door.
“Come, girls. You come to my house with Ari here, okay?” He smiled and helped his daughter Ariadne to her feet. Ari in turn stood and waited while Stephanie Elias made her way out of the booth. And finally, needing a lot of assistance was a very sweet Emo Girl with a face streaked with makeup from crying; Melina Macros stepped gingerly out of the booth and to the door. She waved to Helen who just sighed as her daughter walked out of the restaurant with her friends. And Nicko sat at his booth still shaking his head.
Bergen County Record: March 18, 2016
Stephen and Nerine Elias would like to announce the engagement of their daughter Stephanie Elias to Melina Constantonopoulous, daughter of Helen Constantonopoulous. The wedding will take place Saturday, August 20, 2016 We are all so happy for them.
Hawthorne, New Jersey, Christmas Eve, several years later...
“Mel?” The voice called from the bedroom. Melina turned and walked down the hallway. She heard her name, but any attempt to hold a conversation with three rooms between them under the best of circumstances would have been difficult at best. And even now, things were getting more difficult in some ways though ever better in others.
“Yes?” She poked her head into the bedroom doorway, finding her bride lying on the bed in a come-hither pose. Stephanie patted the bed and waved in beckon to Melina. She walked over and stood. A smile was met by warm and caring hands pulling her down on the bed, and quickly following the embrace with an even warmer kiss.
“We have some time, you know.” Stephanie grinned and pointed to the clock CD player sitting on the night stand. Three O’clock; their guests weren’t due for another two hours, and even at that, at least one of the four would arrive late anyway, if at all. Dinner was going to be simple; intention to detail would be focused solely on the company and the hope of some interaction between both sets of parents. Actually the interaction would hopefully be between three and one, since it was the estrangement that they had hoped to at least bring to some tentative conclusion.
“I’m scared, Steph,” Melina said as she mumbled between kisses. Undaunted, Stephanie continued to keep her focus and continued to kiss Melina. The attention was greeted with a different if understandable reaction than what Stephanie had hoped for as Melina began to sob. Sometimes even the kindest and most assuring acceptance can be trumped by past hurts and rejection.
“It’s okay, honey. It’s okay.” Stephanie continued to kiss Melina, but with much greater attention; redoubling her efforts. Soon the two lay side by side; spooning they used to call it. Melina’s sobs had subsided to soft weeping as Stephanie etched hearts and ‘I love you’ on Melinas’s back with her nails. A bit playful perhaps, but necessary for both of them given the evening they had in front of them.
It would be nice to spend time with Stephanie’s parents, of course. Melina loved her mother and welcomed any time together with her, but considering the circumstances for both her and Helen, it would be difficult at best. That they had chosen to reach out to Melina’s father once again after three years was going to prove the most difficult.
Too many old hurts mixed with too many new challenges; not a very appetizing menu for a Christmas Eve dinner. They could only do what they had done all along; hope and pray, since Nicko had been estranged from his wife and daughter for nearly four years. How they managed to get him to agree to a visit remained a mystery even though it seemed that he was eager if completely out of character in insisting that he indeed would attend dinner.
Melina and Stephanie had so much to share with Stephanie’s parents and with Helen Constantanopolos. What Nicko had to share with all of them would change their lives forever.
December 27….
New Years being just around the corner, so to speak, Melina and Stephanie were finalizing plans for the holiday. While both would have preferred to have Helen join them ringing in the New Year with Stephanie’s family, the dreaded day approached with Melina understandably anxious over the hope that the family would be finally reconciled. And of course his not-surprising absence at Christmas left Mel wondering if her father would show up at all. Just what Nicko had to share with her and her mother was enough to foster worrisome speculation. Stephanie could do only so much to assure Mel that things would be okay. And with the anticipated continued absence of her brothers, Mel felt that she and Helen would be left alone to face one more disappointment.
The doorbell rang; Stephanie had her hands full with a basket of laundry and she shouted from the back bedroom.
“Mel? Would you get that?” Melina pushed the cat off her lap; his claws stuck to her jeans and she practically dragged him to the front door. She opened it to find two familiar faces.
“Hey….” The young man waved weakly from behind his older brother. Nick remained silent and nodded with a half-smile.
“Oh….” Melina bit her lip. Since college her brothers had maintained an all-too-infrequent connection with her; mostly due to the pull of their own lives The two turned to each other and frowned; a sadly anticipated reaction by the girl at the door fueled by their protracted absence in her life. Chris stepped out from behind Nick and opened his arms, begging for a forgiving hug. Melina pulled back a bit, only to bump into Stephanie.
“I’m sorry, Mel,” Chris said with a shrug; as if just showing up at her door would heal so many years of neglect and absence, no matter what the excuse. Nick put his hand out.
“We are both sorry….I’m sure Pete would say the same thing if he was here. Pete had been the only one in frequent contact with Melina even though his deployment kept him away half-way around the globe.
“Why don’t you two come in and we can have some coffee, okay?” Stephanie said as she squeezed Melanie around the shoulders.
“Yes…c…come in.” It hardly seemed fair. When she and Stephanie wed, no one from the family besides their mother Helen attended. It was a heartbreak for Melina since she had hoped at least to see her brothers wish her and Steph well. And of course she held out no hope whatsoever that her father would give anything but an angry curse to them. She sighed at the memory of the biggest disappointment in her life.
“Mel?” Nick actually stooped a bit lower and looked up into his sister’s face like when they were little. Always the baby in the family when the word ‘baby’ was almost an insult. The little boy who didn’t fit into his own family had become the younger sister they never knew they had despite her sad, frequent pleas.
“What?” She had begun to cry; their sudden return into her life was disconcerting at best, and it was too hard to reconcile the hurt so quickly.
“I am so sorry.” Nick bit his lip; even with all the teasing within the family, he had been her protector from the bullying and taunting from the neighborhood kids. Yanni Macros was the baby brother Nick remembered even as he stood face-to-face with the younger girl everyone else seemed to recognize. However ironic the name calling had been, Yanni had always been Melina in a way. Somewhere between then and now, a young woman had finally begun her life, and it was literally better late than never that the two oldest Macros children came to realize that.
“I…I know.” She reached out and grabbed Nick’s hand and pulled him close.
“Please….for…forgive me?” The words were hesitant; not because of conviction, since Nick was very much convinced of how awful he had been to his sister. He just didn’t feel that he deserved forgiveness. Grace was very infrequently and sparingly offered to all of the Macros children and to their mother. Nicko Macros was at least judicious in this manner; he gave as much grace to his family as his father had given to him; perhaps more. And in a world of dysfunction, any improvement is considered good, however small.
“Y…yes….” She pulled him close and buried her face in his shoulder. She had worshipped her brothers like many children do; the betrayal all the more painful for the loss of relationship with someone she believed loved her. He did, as did Chris and Pete never stopped loving her. Chris stepped close and reached around Nick, touching Mel’s hand. She blindly grasped his hand and squeezed tight; that signal that forgiveness was never to be reserved and was offered freely.
“Why don’t you guys sit down in the living room and I’ll just put on a pot of coffee, okay?” Steph said as she ushered the three over to the couch. Nick stepped back and sat down on the old rocker facing the couch, leaving Chris to sit next to Mel. Even in the midst of reconciliation, Nick was once again abdicating any responsibility; leaving the comforting hugs to his younger brother. He seemed completely satisfied with himself until Steph walked in with a tray with four mugs of tea. She placed the tray on the coffee table and pulled a dining room chair into the living room; sitting down next to Nick.
“Join the party, pal!” She said with a laugh. He turned to her and she grinned a toothy grin and pointed to the two on the couch. What tension remained seemed to dissipate quickly as Mel spoke.
“I’m still angry, Nick. Chris.” Chris seemed almost put out since he was the one who had offered a conciliatory hug.
“I thought you said you forgave us,” Chris asked as he shook his head in disbelief.
“Yes…but I’m still angry. I could have understood if you had at least said you couldn’t come. You never once told me you were upset with…..” She practically glared at Nick. Chris turned away, as if by diverting his attention to the attractive vase of daisies sitting on the kitchen table he would somehow drift away from the conversation. Mel turned to him once again and grabbed his arm.
“No, Chris. This isn’t something you can just nod and say…okay; now that that’s over we can move on!’ He turned to face her and found her sporting a half-smile. She didn’t want to stay angry, but he had to know how much disappointment he and Nick had practically ignored for the past several years.
“Steph and I are okay. I’m not happy with what you did to me and her, but I’m a big girl.” She bit her lip in thought even as the irony seemed to sink in. Chris laughed and she shook her head with a bit of a glare.
“I mean it, Chris. It’s Mommy you owe the apology to. Your presence here is…well it’s enough for now to begin to fix things, but it’s not just going to be all rosy now that you’ve decided we don’t have the plague. Mommy was so hurt. It wasn’t just my wedding …our wedding you missed. It was …It felt…” Melina began to tear up and Stephanie took over.
“Helen cried over your absence. It felt like you took sides. You didn’t have to stay away. Unless you actually agreed with your father about Mel.” She paused and turned to face Nick. His face had grown red and he was looking down at the floor. Chris wore a nearly identical expression.
“You DID agree with him. What a couple of….” Now it was Stephanie’s turn to be angry. Melina had pulled away slightly from Chris and was sitting back with her arms folded around her in a self-hug. She stood up and walked to Chris. Grabbing him by the hand she spoke.
“Get up. Come on.”
“What…you want us to leave?”
“No…I just want you to get up.” She shook her head and looked over at Nick.
“Go sit by your brother.” She pushed him almost gently toward Nick, sitting down where Chris had been only seconds before. She grabbed Melina’s hand and squeezed.
“I’ve only met the two of you a handful of times. It strikes me that you’re fairly reasonably intelligent young men. So how is it that in growing up with a mother like Helen and a brother like Pete and a sister…” she paused for effect and began again, repeating herself.
“With a sister like Mel here and you two turned out to be such jerks. Oh…yeah… the Macros family business.
“Restaurants?”
“No…. unrealistic expectations! You guys are just like your Dad. I’ve only met him once. If looks could kill I would have been the star corpse on CSI: Bergen County. The only redeeming part of the whole thing is that if I’d been a guy he still would have hated me because he still hates Mel so much. Which is why what you two did hurts even more.”
“We don’t hate you,” Chris said, turning to Nick for approval. Nick shook his head with a half-frown as if to say ‘of course we don’t.’
“I…We know. That’s what makes it hurt so much. You should know what’s what, but you both decided that it was better to placate the father that treated you all like you were employees than love your own sister.”
“I do love Mel.” Nick said with a sigh; almost an angry protest by an innocent man.
“Really?” Mel snapped at him but softened just a bit.
“How many times have you called me Yanni… ‘Just kidding.’ Just kidding? You can’t know how much that hurts.”
“You know I’m teasing, right?” Nick half-smiled in accomplishment.
“Really? No kidding.” Stephanie rolled her eyes and went on.
“It’s hard enough to get any affirmation anywhere, and your own sister has to practically beg for you to be kind. When your father makes a point in the very few times he’s spoken to us to call her his son? So, yeah. She’s knows you’re kidding. We just can’t figure out it hasn’t sunk in for the two of you how much it hurts her.” She patted Melina on the arm, prompting the girl to speak.
“I know you love me, Nick…Chris… But there’s loving someone and really showing that. You want to make Daddy happy. And what has that gotten you? Is he proud of you? Nick? You started your own catering business. And Chris? What about you?” She faced him and he put his head down once again.
“You’re married to a very nice girl with the only Macros grandchild…granddaughter, right? You’re a successful lawyer in Newark? Got that big house in Essex Fells? Daddy ever say he was proud of you? Or is it just another chance to fall just short of what he never even told you he expected?” Mel eyed the mug in front of her. Stephanie grabbed her hand and whispered.
“Honey….you can do this.*” She made a point to place the mug of tea in both of Melina’s hands, urging her to take a sip.
“You’re right. I don’t know what it will take to make him happy.” Nick shook his head. It wasn’t a time for maudlin reflection or sentimentality. Tears came to his eyes as he looked back and forth between Stephanie and Melina. Angry, self-remonstrative crying while offering tears that helped clarify what he already knew.
“Nothing makes him happy. I…I don’t think….”
“I’m so sorry,” Chris spoke up. His eyes had welled up a bit, but he spoke with a confidence rarely shown to his family.
“How fucking stupid. What a waste of time. He arose and patted Nick on the back before stepping closer to the couch. Stooping down, he pushed the coffee table aside and leaned close to hug Mel.
“I am so sorry,” he said, repeating himself. If his earlier apology was entirely self-serving, this one was authentic. No regrets merely to not be in trouble with his sister, but a real heart-rending understanding of just how sadly foolish he and Nick had been. And that meant to his mother and perhaps even Pete. The two would soon find out just how much Pete had been hurt as well. As much promise of a crying fest that gesture might have meant, it was brought home, so to speak, with serious clarity as Stephanie spoke.
“So what do we do about this, guys? I mean…you’re not alone in this. We’re not expecting you to fix this on your own, but if this family is going to get right somehow, what do we do?” Mel turned to Stephanie and practically beamed. It was comforting; encouraging in fact, to know that Stephanie felt as much a part of her family as she did. What is that old expression? She that findeth a wife findeth a good thing? In New Jersey of all places.
Nick breathed out a sigh of relief before waving to the three across the room.
“First thing? Chris and I … We should go see Mommy.”
He shook his head. Better late than never is small compensation when you realize it’s your own fault that things were frightfully delayed. His face was red; not guilt-ridden shame, but rightfully ashamed at his behavior toward his sister and his mother. He stood enough to sit down next to Melina, looking a bit nervous until Stephanie reached across Melina’s lap and squeezed his hand.
“No…You two and we two will go see Mommy together.” Mel brightened at Stephanie’s words; the idea they would all begin to reconcile as family was heartening, but hearing Stephanie use the word ‘Mommy’ as an endearment was just plain nice.
Willow Creek Townhomes, Fairlawn, New Jersey…the following day….
Five adults stood crowded on the front steps of Helen’s townhouse. Nonee Macros held baby Kyra in her arms as Melina hugged her shoulders. Stephanie stood behind the two, a figurative support for the siblings as Chris and Nick stood in front of the door. After a sharp knock, they stepped back a little, waiting for Helen to answer. A moment later she opened the door. A look of sad confusion seemed to almost cover her face.
“Oh…hi…” she said quietly, as if a visit from Chris and Nick was commonplace. She turned and walked back to the couch and sat down. She looked away for a moment as they all ushered through the front door and into the living room. She looked at Nick; practically shrugging her shoulders at his presence as her mind seemed almost distant.
“Mom? What’s wrong?” Melina said as she sat down on the couch next to Helen. Her mother turned to her and sighed before security of her daughter’s love gave her permission to break down.
“Oh….honey….I….” She gasped and then sat upright, collecting herself.
“I just….just got off the phone with your Aunt Kallie….Your….”
“Daddy?” Chris said; the boy of twelve asserting himself in the adult at the anticipation of bad news of his father. Helen shook her head, and everyone knew immediately what the gesture meant, but it took Stephanie to speak it.
“He’s gone, right?” Helen looked up into Stephanie’s eyes and nodded as tears came to her own. She fell into Melina’s embrace and began to sob softly. Stephanie walked into the kitchen and a few minutes came back.
“I put on some coffee.” She walked over and grabbed the remote and turned the cable to a quiet music channel before turning down the volume to a soft whisper. Walking over to Nonee, she held out her arms and her sister-in-law handed Kyra to her before walking over to embrace Chris as he sobbed in her arms. Nick stood alone before Stephanie walked up and rubbed his arm. He put his hand to his face and began to cry as he spoke.
“I …why am I so …he was such a….” He paused, not wanting to speak aloud anything that would hurt his mother.
“Because he was your father. I don’t know why else, but you miss….” Stephanie hadn’t meant to take charge, but she was just enough detached to be the strong one and just enough included to know she could. She leaned closer.
“You miss the things that were good and maybe you miss the things that never were? It’s okay to be sad, Nick. You don’t have to stay angry at him…especially now.” She turned to Melina and Helen and back.
“Time enough to sort things out. It’s okay.” She pulled the baby over to her other arm and leaned close, kissing Nick on the cheek.
“Go ahead, bro. It’s alright.” The few last words were enough as Nick leaned close to Stephanie and began to sob. As she consoled him she looked back to see Melina staring at them; a tearful smile had emerged as she nodded back at her spouse in pride.
“She that findeth a wife......”
Browning-Forshay Funeral Home, Hawthorne, New Jersey, a few evenings later…
“This happened all so fast, kids. I’m sorry I didn’t get to talk with you sooner,” Kallie said as she hugged each of the Macros children in turn. Even as adults, they held an almost childlike place in her heart. A fairly tall woman clutched her arm, giving her support. Mina had been with their Aunt Kallie for years, and was a part of the family.
“Kallie was on the phone with your dad….” Mina’s voice trailed off as everyone nodded silently.
“He was going to…..he wanted…” Kallie’s eyes began to tear up when her gaze fell upon Melina. It would have been a cruel twist of fate but for the love Melina still held in her own heart for her father in spite of the rejection she had endured for years merely for being herself.
“Let’s go sit down…..we have to talk before everyone gets here.” A few moments later they all sat in a welcoming room that afforded them some quiet and privacy.
“My brother was a stubborn man, but he never wanted to hurt anyone. He was just too hurt himself.” Kallie shook her head. She didn’t want to make excuses. For years she had endured his anger and rejection over her relationship with Mina and she had every right to be bitter. But she had long ago realized how dangerous that mindset was; played out in agonizing detail in her brother’s life. She looked at Helen and nodded. The woman smiled and nodded back.
“Your father showed up at my place a few days ago. I couldn’t bear to see him since we separated.” Even though Nicko had divorced her, neither of them remarried, and Helen hoped that some day he would change.
“He insisted, and I didn’t know then, but something told me inside that it was important, so I invited him in.” She lowered her head slightly and looked away, seeking the next words.
“He said that your grandmother came to him….” She began to cry softly even as she spoke; haltingly but clear. Melina gasped at the mention of her grandmother; a woman who so moved everyone with love that Melina chose to become her grandmother’s namesake.
“He couldn’t say…a dream? A ghost? From heaven? She spoke to him and told him….” Helen turned and put her head on Mina’s shoulder. Kallie reached across and grabbed Helen’s hand and squeezed.
“What he told me….what he told Helen? My mother spoke to him and told him to let go. My father was a very cruel man and my brother never wanted to be like him, but it was the only model he had. He worked with our father from the time he was twelve. Every day except Sunday, and he became just like our dad. But when I talked to him…. And I guess when your mom saw him…. He had changed. It was like…” Kallie paused and bit her lip. Better late than never is a very clever phrase; especially if one ignores what transpired before change takes place. But Kallie took solace in the fact that change did take place.
“Your dad…my brother grew up like a bent tree; twisted and misshaped. I closed my eyes when…. I knew when he called me that something was different….and then he was gone. I’m sorry.” She put her hand to her face and wept; some for the sheer waste of time and loss of connection, but mostly because even if Nicko acted as if he hated his sister, Kallie never stopped loving her brother. She wiped her eyes with her blouse sleeve and continued; a smile beginning to break through the grief.
“I closed my eyes…I knew he was gone, you know? And a peace came over me. That vision of a twisted tree? It was almost like black and white like an old movie. The tree was twisted and black and grey and so sad looking.” Kallie’s smile grew and she blinked back more tears, but her sigh was one of content relief.
“At the top of the tree there was a bit of green and a yellow….” Another sigh. Melina gasped; remembering that her namesake’s favorite color was yellow.
“A little flower all the way at the top. It was like the good that was in him finally was…” Kallie shook her head; understanding and accepting are okay in their way, but don’t necessarily remove the pain that preceded them.
“He wanted so much to please his father that he forgot that he wanted so much to be like your grandmother,” Mina said as she rubbed Kallie’s back. Helen nodded.
“When I saw him, he told me the same story. I almost knew it was near the end for him. We talked for hours. About how much he wanted to say to you all.” Helen looked at each of her children in turn. Chris had his head down and tears poured off his face.
“He was so proud of you, Chris. He never found the words to tell any of you.” She looked at her daughter-in-law Nonee and half-frowned as if the rejection the girl had felt was Helen’s fault instead of her husband’s. Nonee nodded and half-smiled; her brown complexion grew red and warm as Helen continued.
“His father was so angry and so hateful that he passed along his ignorance to Nicko, and you and Chris and the baby bore the brunt of that. I am so sorry it took so long for him to realize how wrong he was, but he was so sorry at the… at the end.” Nonee smiled; almost a polite gesture but for the warmth in her eyes; like so many in the Marcos family, the young woman had learned quickly to forgive for her family’s benefit.
“And Nick? I’m sorry… I thought he had more time. He wanted to say how proud he was of you.” Helen put her head down in shame as if it had been her decision instead of Nicko’s to forestall any praise; she certainly did her best to counter the effects of her husband’s lack with his children.
“He was so proud of you. I’m sorry, moro mou…” Even as the first-born, there was something that endured between mother and son as her baby. Nick shook his head; not in disagreement but instead in sad disappointment over the gulf between father and son that only narrowed at the end of his father’s life. That bittersweet realization that love truly had returned if only for the small measure of a heart-beat. Helen mirrored her son’s posture and began to weep.
“Mel?” Kallie sniffled once and spoke again.
“When your Dad and I talked…. He kept saying that our mother wanted him to remember your name…that you honored her more than he ever did.” Kallie paused as Melanie gasped; embarrassed over her father’s shame, but Kallie put her hand up in encouraging caution.
“He said he knew that she was right. But that he wanted to make everything better. I wish I had more to give you than this, but he said he was wrong and that he was sorry.” Kallie shook her head at the helpless feeling of being unable to make things better; that only Nicko could have done that and he fell short of the goal. But Melina smiled through her own tears.
“I remember…the only time he ever said he was sorry to me. I had some little play I was in when I was in fourth grade and he was supposed to come, but he got busy at the diner….he always got too busy.” She paused; not wanting to be harsh in a soft moment.
“He got home late and came into our room…Chris and me, you remember?” She looked over at her brother and smiled. He lifted his head and nodded but gasped at the sadness; bittersweet once again.
“He knelt down next to my bed and kissed me on the forehead. He had tears in his eyes and he said, ‘I’m sorry.’ Nothing else, but I knew he was sorry. And I know now….I never forgot that, and I can hear his voice, you know….” She spoke haltingly but after a pause she continued even as the tears poured from her face. Stephanie held her hand and rubbed her arm in encouragement.
“I’m so proud of you,” her partner whispered as Melina continued.
“Daddy? Wherever you are, I know…..I know, Daddy and I love you.”
The following evening
The well-wishers had begun to say their good-bye condolences; likely repeated over and over at the funeral the next morning. A few folks stood by Helen and Nick as Chris and Nonee thanked the guests as they departed. Melanie looked around anxiously. The final evening before the funeral and Mina and Kallie hadn’t arrived.
“I don’t understand. They haven’t called, and no one has heard from Pete.” The second oldest hadn’t called or communicated in quite some time, and it was not a complete surprise. He had immersed himself in his career in the military; another example of the overcompensation by all the Macros children to please their father. It was a tradition passed from generation to generation going back to God only knows when; ineffective and wasteful though it was, it was all theirs.
“I got a text on my cell just now,” Stephanie said loud enough to gain everyone’s attention.
“Aunt Kallie and Aunt Mina are on their way. Something about getting stuck at the airport?” Stephanie tried not to smile. They had talked with her the previous evening about their plans; asking her to keep secret what they had intended. And like the caring spouse she was, she wanted to make sure the surprise they held would be the blessing they had intended for all, but especially for Melina. A few minutes later the front door opened and Mina walked in; followed closely by Kallie and a familiar face.
“I’m sorry we’re late, but there was a delay in the flight,” Kallie said with a wry grin as her gaze went back and forth between the family and the woman beside her.
“Hi,” the woman said meekly. Nick stared at the woman and a look of recognition crossed his face. One by one, each family member realized who the woman was as smiles and confusion melded happily. The woman walked up to Melina and pulled her into an awkward hug and spoke softly.
“I’m sorry for coming to the party so late.” She stepped back and Melina tilted her head sideways just a bit with a growing smile.
“Pete?”
“It’s Aspasia now. I’m sorry for not communicating but I only recently realized who I am. No..." She paused, looking almost angry with herself.
"I've always known, but I never had any courage to be who I am. But I do now; mostly because of the example of two fine women,” she said with a broad smile. Melina looked at her in question.
“I met someone a short while ago. She had served with honor before her change, but now serves with honor as an example to women like us. A lady of valor, some have said with great wisdom. But mostly because of the example of one of the bravest women I know….” Her voice trailed off even as the words came haltingly through happy tears. She put her head down.
“I should have told you long ago how I felt, but I was so ashamed. Daddy was so hard to please, and even two tours over there weren’t enough to please him. And all the while you faced your fears and did what you had to do despite the cost. It finally dawned on me that I could never please Daddy enough to satisfy him and all my efforts were at the expense of my own life and my love for my family. You gave me courage, Mel. Can you forgive me?” Aspasia Macros fell into her sister’s arms and wept. Melina patted her on the back and kissed her cheek.
“Nothing to forgive….shhh….shhhh.”
Stephanie stepped close and Aspasia looked at her and nodded. A quick plan pulled off by tenacious work on Stephanie’s part to reach out to the lost sheep of the fold, so to speak. She nodded back and leaned close to the embrace her spouse was sharing; grabbing her new sister’s hand and squeezing.
“Welcome home.”
And one by one, the family drew close and welcomed the newest member of the Macros family. Courage comes often not by the challenge we face, but rather with whom we face that challenge; the strength that is derived from being woven together like a three-strand cord as it says somewhere. We often fail to see the encouragement because our eyes focus instead on the obstacles we face. The one dissenting voice that outshouts the many calm strengthening voices which surround us.
But those voices also often prevail. The second chances we get when we embrace those who care and love and hold us dear.
Bonasera Hair Salon, Fairfield, New Jersey...
Chances Are by Sheryl Crow played on the radio while a woman stood behind the girl in the salon chair and stared at their reflection in the mirror over her work station.
“This might be better suited to your coloring, hon," she said as she combed out the girl’s hair.
“I guess I’ll have to take your word for it.” Susan laughed and reached out with her right hand.
“What do you think, Arnie?” She patted the dog sitting next to the chair. He shook his head up and down as if to approve.
“Well, Sophie, I guess it’s the auburn.”
“Wise choice; that green blouse of yours goes well with the color.”
“Is that what it is? And here I thought it was my milky complexion.” Susan laughed once again as the woman behind the chair put the comb down.
“I’m going to have Jackie do your shampoo and then we’ll tackle the all important choice of style. We’re sending out for Thai…you want some?”
“No thanks, Soph….maybe something cold to drink?”
“Sure thing…oh, here’s Jackie right now.” Sophie nodded as her son came out of the back room and up to the chair.
“Well, Miss McDermott? What say we take a stroll over to the sink.” The young man gently took the girl’s hand and they walked to the rear of the styling area and a few minutes later had returned to the chair.
“I see Arnie has a new harness. I like the plaid; almost like a tartan. Suits the whole Scot’s thing you’ve got going on.
“Aye, that it does,” Susan said with a fair impression of a burr.
“Actually, it was my sister’s idea; we sort of swap clothes these days and she just bought this at Piper’s Cove over in Kearny last week,” she said using her left hand to indicate the kilt she was wearing.
“Well, Miss MacDougal, it suits you, believe me.”
“Why thank you, Jackie. Please…We’ve known each other long enough that you should call me by my first name.”
“Okay, Miss…Susan.” Jackie blushed.
“You back to school soon?” She asked, tilting her head.
“Actually, the semester for CT and Pet Scans started last week. One more rotation and I’m certified. I’ve got a job lined up already at St. Barnabas for December. It helps that my Aunt Jo works in the department.
“I’m awfully glad that you managed that. I bet that will make you a bit more independent.
“Well, yes, of course, but I really don’t mind living at home. Mom is super and I’ve been able to put some money away since my last tour.
“Well, I’m glad for that, and I’m so relieved. I was so worried when you left that last time. Your mother was a nervous wreck the whole time you were gone.” She wanted to add ‘and so was
I,’ but it would have been awkward to the max. She had never let on that she had feelings for
the young man.
“Happy to oblige by returning in one piece.” He laughed softly but added,
“Well, mostly one piece.” He rapped his knuckles on his prosthetic left arm.
“May I?” She reached out and touched his left arm.
“Fiberglass?”
“Actually I don’t know what it’s made of on the surface. Titanium and stuff underneath. I’m just glad I was able to adapt so fast.” The feelings inside were coming along slowly, but Jackie was making progress in therapy. He had found a great therapist at Lyons who was able to help him individually, and his temperament seemed well suited to group therapy.
“I know your mother is so proud of you, Jackie, and so am I.” She immediately regretted the last few words.
“Oh…thanks Miss…thank you, Susan.”
“Are you two done talking? I’ve got an appointment at four, but I can bump that back a half-hour.” Sophie laughed as she returned to her work station. She put a bottle of diet Peach Snapple in Susan’s hand.
“Oh…yes,” the two said almost in unison. Susan felt her cheeks grow warm and a chill rose up her back. Jackie looked in the mirror and noticed that they were both blushing. He turned and breathed out a heavy sigh before adding.
“I’ve got to get back home for a bit to study for a test tomorrow, okay?” He kissed his mother on the cheek and nearly did the same to Susan, but caught himself in time enough to pretend he had intended to pet Arnie instead.
“Nice seeing you Miss MacDougal.” He said as he headed toward the door.
“Nice seeing you, too, Jackie.” She said in return before laughing softly. Jackie paused at the door and sighed again. He had known Susan MacDougal since before his senior year in high school. She was a freshman in college at the time, and he marveled at the determination the girl had shown. That marvel had turned into admiration and respect and then a love of sorts as she and he exchanged correspondence during his first tour.
“Bye, Mom. I’ll put dinner on about six, okay?” Sophie waved and nodded as her son walked out the door.
“He’s a great kid.” Sophie said, and Susan nodded her head, all the while thinking that he was more than just a kid. If only she had the strength to tell him the truth about her. Some things are difficult to take when they’re out of the ordinary.
“So auburn it is unless you want me to experiment.” Sophie laughed and Susan echoed her while adding,
“No fair, at least describe it to me before you do anything drastic.”
A little while later…
“You look gorgeous, Susan. And I’m not just saying that.”
“Of course you are, but you're excused. Under most circumstances I might be skeptical, but I’ve know you long enough to trust your eye on these things.” She paused and her smile dimmed a bit.
“You okay?”
“I have to share my secret with someone, and I’m scared, Soph.”
“Which one, honey? I see the way your expression changes when you hear Jackie’s name. I suppose the only one who doesn’t know is Jackie.”
“That obvious, huh? And here I’ve been going along all this time thinking nobody knew.”
“Everybody knows except the one who needs to know the most. But I guess that’s not the big one, huh? Listen, sweetie…I’ve known you since you were little. When your mother used to bring you into my shop when it was on Main Street…before Jackie ever helped out here.” Sophie looked out the window as if she was expecting her son to walk back in on their conversation.
“I know. And I know you care enough not to see me or him hurt. But I can’t help think that he will be hurt if I tell him.” She sighed and put her hand down and out off the armrest. Arnie licked it and playfully pushed her hand with his muzzle.
“You owe it to both of you to at least try. I know him better than you do, honey. He’s not just a good kid; he’s a great man, and I’m so proud that he’s overcome so much to be where he is. I think he’s got room in his heart for another.”
“Even if that other person isn’t really the kind of woman he’s looking for….isn’t even a woman at all?”
“Now you stop that! You’re every bit a woman as I am, even if you did take a different exit on the Parkway to get there.” Sophie began to brush the girl’s hair.
“And Jackie will figure that out, if he doesn’t know already.”
“You mean he sees this?” Susan pointed to herself and gasped.
“No, hon. That he knows that no matter where you start out in life, it’s where you finish that counts. You may have been Danny MacDougal when you were born, but you’re Susan now, and I think he’ll only understand, but that it will be more than just okay.”
“What makes you say that?” Susan breathed out heavily.
“Because of the way he looks at you. You should see the smile on his face the times he’s been here when you have.” Sophie frowned, absentmindedly hoping that the girl wouldn’t notice her expression.
“He smiles?”
“Oh, yes. All the time….” Sophie paused and looked in the mirror in front of her. The girl wasn’t gorgeous, but there was a quiet beauty about her that came out when she spoke; the face beaming at the mention of cherished things and people. A truly remarkable young lady, even if she had taken a circuitous route to get there. A route fraught with challenges that most young women might never face, and she faced them with strength and courage.
“Now…let’s just see. The picture on the left…that looks about right…a nice medium style cut that takes advantage of your face; especially your cheek bones.
“Well…you’re the expert and I do trust you.”
A short while later she stood at the counter to pay.
“Never mind this time, honey. My treat. After all, I wanted you looking your best when you tell my son you’re in love with him.” Sophie touched her arm gently.
“Tell him the truth first; I bet you’ll be surprised how much he cares.
“I guess you’re right.” She paused and shook her head slightly.
“I guess I don’t have as much confidence as you.”
“I have enough hope for the both of us.”
“I suppose I’ll have to trust you on it. But I’m so scared.”
“Don’t be, Susan. He loves you. He just needs to be reminded how much.”
“He smiles when he sees me?”
“All the time.”
“Hmm! Okay.” She leaned closer and the two hugged before she headed toward the door. Arnie paused while she opened the door. He stepped out onto the sidewalk and then proceeded to lead her down the street toward her apartment.
Bonasera Hair Salon, Fairfield, New Jersey....
Celine Dion's Taking Chances was playing softly on the radio. Susan found herself singing along when the door opened. Jackie walked into the salon and up to the counter.
“Hey, Mom, I have some time. Want to catch some lunch?” Sophie smiled and glanced over his shoulder before answering,
“Oh, sorry, Jackie, Mrs. Rudolph is coming in for a cut in a few minutes.” She looked down at the appointment book and smiled before saying,
“Just a second, hon. Susan? Tran doesn’t have an opening until four; can I put you down for that?”
“No, thanks. I’ve got an appointment with a client back at my office at three, and I think it’s going to run long.” Susan sat behind Jackie in the waiting area. He noticed that Arnie was lying quietly at her feet.
“Say…I’ve got an idea.” Sophie grinned. Susan of course didn’t see the expression on her face, and she stopped smiling just as Jackie turned his head back to face her.
“Since you’ve got some time and Susan doesn’t have an appointment, why don’t you two go to lunch instead?”
“Oh, no…I wouldn’t want to impose,” Susan said softly. She hoped her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.
“Nonsense. Jackie, you don’t mind, do you?” A question that would put anyone on the spot, but he felt even more pressured and embarrassed, but something also dwelt inside of him at that moment and he replied,
“Oh….not at all. It would be a pleasure.” Now it was time for Jackie to hope his cheeks hadn’t reddened at his own words.
“Great. I’m sure you’ll both have a nice time.” Sophie was hoping for more than nice for both their sakes.
“Excuse me, Miss MacDougal….Susan, do you mind if I take your arm? I don’t want to…I know it’s important to….I…” He stumbled on the words. She reached up and patted him on his outstretched hand.
“I’m sure Arnie won’t mind some help. You can be on my left and I’ll hold onto him with my right hand, okay.” The dog rose and moved close to her right side where she grabbed the handle of his harness. She reached out again and grabbed Jackie’s right hand.
“You kids have a nice time,” Sophie winced; she sounded like a grandmother.
“Oh, well,” she said and she leaned sideways and turned up the volume on the radio.
Hunan Cottage, Fairfield....a short while later...
“I thought you might like something quiet, if that’s okay?” Jackie said they made their way to their table. A few minutes later they sat across from each other. The waitress had already brought water and they had ordered. The table was small and round and a bit more intimate than either of them wanted, but the restaurant was more crowded for a Monday than they had expected.
“This is very kind of you. Thanks.” Susan put her head down; her expression was mostly hidden by her glasses, but she still felt embarrassed.
“Actually it’s my pleasure. Really,” he said trying to convince them both.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you out for a while, and this….well…” He sighed in frustration as he searched for the words to convey how he felt. And still not knowing exactly how he felt made that task all the more difficult.
“You…you wanted to ask me out?” Susan was surprised. She raised her head slightly, trying to approximate ‘eye contact.’
“Ye…yes.” Jackie was growing more tongue-tied until the waitress relieved his anxiety by arriving at that moment with their food. He sighed in relief. He looked at the woman in front of him and shook his head; somewhat out of marvel, but with deeper emotions coming to the surface as he watched her bow her head. She mouthed a silent prayer before saying a soft, ‘amen.’
“May I ask you something? I don’t mean to be patronizing, but I also want to know if you don’t mind?”
“How long have I been blind? It’s not a bad question, Jackie. I wasn’t born blind. I have a degenerative condition that started when I was about nine. It’s gotten progressively worse to the point where I only see small points of light.” She reached down and patted the dog.
“Arnie does my looking for me now.” She laughed softly.
“Do…do you remember colors and things…what your sister looked like? Oh, I’m so sorry. This must be difficult for you.” He sighed in frustration. She reached over and patted his left hand, and then became embarrassed herself when she realized it was his prosthetic.
“I guess we both have gotten used to a lot of things we never thought we would go through. I am so sorry.” Jackie knew that she couldn’t see his face, but he still felt like covering it anyway.
“Okay…since you asked me, I’ll ask a favor in return, okay?” He nodded, forgetting for a moment, but she continued anyway.
“May I touch your face? Would that be alright?”
“Oh….your way of ‘seeing me?’ Oh gosh, Susan, I’m sorry. I don’t want to be patronizing and it seems that’s all I’ve done since we sat down.” He bit his lip in frustration; mostly to keep from getting further into a trouble that didn’t exist.
“It’s alright, Jackie," she said.
"I know you want to respect me. And yes, it’s my way of seeing you, if you don’t mind.” Jackie didn’t mind at all and wanted her to stop all in the same moment as her hand reached up tentatively and touched his cheek.
“Very strong jaw line; I bet the girls just love you,” she teased. She raised her left hand and touched his other cheek.
“Really, though; your face has a lot of character. Where did the scar under your lower lip come from?” She said, expecting it to be something hugely serious.
“I fell off my skateboard when I was seven. Took a header into my neighbor’s front porch.” He laughed, and it sent a shudder through her hands. She pulled away for a moment but resumed by caressing his ears softly.
“Not so bad, was it?” She said as she pulled her hands down in front of her. He nodded, forgetting again.
“I’ll take that as a yes?” She laughed softly again, but underneath she was growing nervous; regretting ever having come.
“Yes….” He said, turning away for strength, once again forgetting that she wasn’t ‘watching.’ He spoke.
“Susan? May I ask another favor?”
“Only if you let me have a bit of my soup first?” Now it was his turn to shudder. He realized that they had been talking for minutes and had yet to eat.
“Oh…jeez, I’m sorry. Go right ahead.” She picked up the spoon beside the bowl and began to eat. He sat and rested his elbow on the table to cradle his head.
“You’re staring!” She laughed, which made him feel uncomfortable until he realized he was making no sound.
“Oh…yes, sorry.”
“May I take these?” the waitress asked and Jackie realized he had yet to eat a thing. He nodded anyway and she took the bowl from the table along with Susan’s.
“I’ll be back in a bit with your entree’.” Susan nodded and Jackie watched the waitress walk away before speaking once again.
“I’d like to try something, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure, what is it?” She tilted her head slightly.
“This is embarrassing. Would you mind….I’d like to touch your face.” He knew he was blushing even without the benefit of a mirror.
“Oh….okay.” She agreed quickly but paused and asked,
“Why?” Not an accusation or demand, but merely out of curiosity.
“I’m not trying to be difficult and I’m sorry, but I’d really like to see how it is to ‘see’ the way you do, if that’s alright.”
“Oh….okay….that’s actually very kind of you,” she said and then she paused. As she went to continue, she felt his hand touch her face softly.
“I’m at a disadvantage…sorry.” He didn’t have to point to his prosthetic for her to understand.
“I’ll have to compensate, but I promise I’ll be respectful.” He didn’t realize how much he didn’t need to say that. A moment later his hand was etching her laugh lines, and his thumb paused carefully against the dimple on her left cheek. She pulled away slightly.
“Jackie….” She said softly, almost as a protest. She felt his finger press lightly against her lips, giving her pause. He hadn’t meant to silence her; his only desire at that point was indeed to experience how she saw people.
“You’re very pretty,” he said with a laugh that belied the nervousness in his heart. Of course he could see her anyway, but touching her gently and sensing her face through his fingertips was almost more than either of them could stand.
“I may be blind, Jackie, but I’m not a fool. I’m not pretty at all,” she protested. He put his finger on her lips once again, but this time his intent was clear; he wanted her to stop speaking for a moment.
“I suppose that depends upon who’s doing the looking. From where I sit you’re very pretty. A matter of taste I suppose.” He stopped speaking and pulled his hands away. She thought he was through, but he reached again and carefully removed her glasses.
“Oh, god…no…please, Jackie,” her protest was a plea that he didn’t ignore, but he continued.
“It’s okay….trust me.” She had never given herself over to trust anyone but she sighed deeply and nodded; her reluctance fading as his hand once again touched her cheek, but with a feeling of a caress.
“Jackie…please….” She put her hand up and covered her eyes.
“Don’t…I’m so ugly.” She gasped as his hand gently pulled her hand away from her face.
“No….You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met. Your eyes are beautiful.”
“Jackie…my eyes are cloudy and sightless and ugly!” she snapped at him. He pulled his hand away as the waitress returned with their meal. Susan quickly retrieved her glasses and put them back in place. The waitress nodded and spoke,
“Just wave if you need anything and I’ll be right over.” A moment later they were alone again in the crowded restaurant.
“You don’t know me well enough to say that, Jackie.” She said it in a loud whisper, but her expression was more of regret than of anger.
“I’ve loved you since I saw you and your sister for the first time in my mother’s salon.”
“You can’t love me, Jackie!” Susan was glad that her glasses were back in place because she knew she was on the verge of tears.
“I don’t have a choice, Susan. It’s just how I feel.”
“I think we need to stop this right now.” She said it in another whisper but looked around so to speak wondering if anyone else in the restaurant was listening or watching.
“Stop what? Stop talking to you, now that I finally have the courage to speak? Now that I’ve gotten brave enough to talk? I’ve been a coward, and I can’t stand it.” Of all the words to use. She reached out with her left hand and grabbed his right arm.
“How can you say that? You’re the bravest man I know. I’m the coward here, Jackie. I haven’t been honest with you, and you deserve more than that!”
“You a coward? You live with adversity everyday and you can say that? No, Susan…no. You’re brave. You’ve faced life head on and you shouldn’t put yourself down. I’m sorry, but I can’t let that go without saying it again. I love you. I don’t know how much plainer I can make it?”
“I’m a fake…Jackie…are you blind? Don’t you see? I’m a sham.” She put her head down and began to sob. A moment later she felt his hand cup her chin softly. He raised her head gently and spoke.
“I know you see me as a fool, and maybe I am, but I’m not so foolish as to not notice you and my Mom…the little asides…the hush at times when I walk into her shop? Susan. I know.”
“We…we talk a lot.” It was all she could say in response, fearing the worst but desperately hoping she was wrong.
“I’ve known for a while. Don’t ask me to explain, ‘cause I can’t. I just know.” He reached over again and caressed her cheek. She went to push his hand away and he grabbed hers and held it softly.
“You don’t know what I’ve been…who I’ve been. You just see a blind girl, and that’s all, Jackie. Who’s blind here?” She shook her head.
“I don’t care where you’ve been other than that it’s part of who you are. You need to know me…that it’s where you end up that counts. Not where you started from.” He said, echoing what his mother had said only days before.
“It doesn’t matter to you that I can’t have kids? That I can’t be the wife you deserve? The companion you need?” By now she struggled to speak, her voice choking at times.
“Of course it matters. Because it’s how things are! But it’s not the end all or even the beginning of what I want….like you said…what I need.”
“How can you say that? I’m nothing close to what you need!”
“Susan…let’s get one thing straight. You can’t tell me what I need. Only I get to say that. Not you, not my mother, God bless her. Me. And who I need is you! This is my chance, and I hope it is for you as well.”
She shrugged her shoulders as if to say I’m not sure; she was entirely sure of him but was totally unsure about herself.
Jackie may have been brave before but right then and there he did the bravest thing he ever did and leaned over the table and kissed her; nothing as spectacular as he had ever expected, but a monumental moment for both of them. Two brave souls taking a risk like never before. She found herself unable to resist, and kissed him back. After a few moments they felt awkward and oddly not alone.
“Will you be ordering desert?” The waitress tried not to but laughed softly anyway as the rest of the diners applauded.
“Coffee?” Jackie asked with a smile. Susan put her hand on his face and felt his grin.
“Coffee sounds just fine," she sighed. "Just fine."
Chances are 'cause I wear a silly grin
The moment you come into view,
Chances are you think that I'm in love with you.
Just because my composure sort of slips
The moment that your lips meet mine,
Chances are you think my heart's your Valentine.
Paris France, Christmas Eve…three years later...
The song from the CD player seemed almost as if it mocked the young woman.
“I’m so sorry.” Susan was sitting upright on the edge of the bed; clothes that had only moment ago laid in a neat pile now were strewn on the floor by her feet. She put her hands to her face and began to weep.
“Don’t…Sue….please?” Jackie touched her arm and she pulled away before he had a chance to even grab her. She stood up, still weeping, but with head down and leaning against the tall armoire across from the large bed. Jackie hopped up and walked quickly to her. Only recently had he begun to set aside his prosthesis on occasion, but even if he had it, nothing in his power would be able to pull Susan back from the brink of shame and hopelessness.
It certainly didn’t seem like a honeymoon; especially when she had turned to him at the reception only the day before and shook her head. Was it a cruel joke she had played on her husband? She looked down at herself and shook her head in the same, sad manner as before; wondering just what she could do to get out of what promised to be a sham of a marriage. Even if Jackie was aware of her past, it still felt like fraud to her that she talked and walked correctly and wore the right clothes. But she didn’t have any idea when they got engaged that when they came together she would not have any feelings; her emotions had become overnight. And her body had seemed to shut down; bringing the honeymoon to an abrupt halt as she wept and cried and screamed in utter shame over her lack.
Jackie held his arm and stump apart, beckoning her to come to him. It had to be that way, since she had to be the one to decide, since he had decided long ago that he would never ever love a woman the way he loved Susan. Forgetting himself and her impairment, he gestured with his arms; as if to say, ‘come on!’
She heard the motion of his good arm and shook her head no and spoke.
“I think we shouldn’t…we….I’m so sorry.” She put her hands to her face once again; her body convulsing in sheer panic at her words; since even if she was convinced they shouldn’t be married that it wouldn’t break her heart. Jackie walked slowly to her and pulled her into a tentative embrace with his stump while patting her back with his hand.
“Maybe you’re right, Sue….just maybe you’re right….”
The apartment of Carlotta Perez, several days earlier…
Susan sat at the vanity in her friend’s bedroom. The girl behind her seemed almost merry as she combed through Susan’s hair; the soft hum of an old show tune about getting married in the morning escaped the girl’s lips.
“This is just the prelim, Sue…the main event starts at seven tomorrow. I just want you to look your best.” It was as nice and as odd a feeling that the girl conveyed; she couldn’t have been more ironic if she tried as Susan strained to ‘see’ how she might look. Long forgotten images of brides and even merely of pretty woman seemed to push and shove off the walls of her memory; elusive and hazy. It was a very long time between sight and the present moment, and she tried not to be too frustrated. It really was almost a sweet moment, in a way, since she was actually allowing herself the luxury of wanting to look pretty for Jackie on their wedding day.
“I’m so happy for you,” Carlotta said as she continued to comb through Susan’s hair; grown longer than ever. ‘Jackie likes long hair’ the impetus for the newer look; another irony.
“You’ve been just wonderful….” Susan’s voice trailed off. It was certainly another crying moment for her, but she held strong against the urge and smiled; albeit weakly. Carlotta kissed her on the cheek.
“How could I not be wonderful for my best friend,” she said as she brushed a lock off Susan’s forehead, kissing the girl in blessing before pulling back.
“If you look this good now….” She caught herself and the words’ imagine how you’ll look tomorrow went unsaid but for the silent mouthing of speculation. She leaned closer and kneaded Susan’s shoulders.
“Now we’re ready, okay.” Looking in the mirror, Carlotta saw a very nice if a bit petite Latina hovering over a very pretty bride-to-be. Susan would never envision that image; even in what she might retrieve in her mind’s eye. She felt unattractive in the midst of a relationship with a man who struggled mightily to convince her otherwise. He was honest if prudent and would always answer her unspoken question with ‘I think you’re beautiful.’ Jackie wasn’t blind to her perception or even the reality that she’d never look anything like a model or an actress, but she was much prettier than she could imagine and as beautiful a woman could ever be.
“He’s a very lucky man,” Carlotta said as she clipped back a stray lock with a burette.
“There….perfect!” Carlotta leaned closer, almost forgetting herself as she took in the image of the bride-to-be once again.
“You’re the best friend I could ever have,” Susan said, putting her hand on her shoulder over Carlotta’s wrist.
“And you’re mine, kid…” Carlotta squeezed Susan’s hand and pulled back slightly.
“Let’s get you dressed and off to the restaurant, okay?” She smiled and somehow it was the tone of her voice that conveyed that picture to Susan as she raised her head slightly and smiled back.
The home of Sophie Bonasera, later that evening…
“I’m…” Susan lowered her face; an image of ‘gazing’ at her feet. Sophie stepped closer and pulled the girl into a motherly hug.
“I know, Sue…. But it’s going to be okay?” How could ‘okay’ be a consolation on the eve of what would be the most wonderful day of any other girl’s life. She pulled the girl close and kissed her cheek and whispered softly.
“He loves you. You have to remember that, honey. He loves you with all his heart.” It was a good start, but her words fell a bit short, since Susan never doubted Jackie’s love. It was her own heart that was in question. Was she blinded by foolish hope? Was her life big enough to contain his? The doubts and fears of a lifetime seemed to press against her; holding her back in a way on the verge of acceptance. She shook her head slightly.
“I know, Mom….”
It felt odd even to allow herself that endearment. She had known Sophie for some time even before Jackie entered the picture, but it felt almost wrong to speak to the woman in such terms. Her own mother loved her after a fashion for the longest time; finally coming to grips that the boy she raised wasn’t a boy at all. Mild anger called out in disappointment for years over the afflictions her child had endured, only for her mother to see the one affliction wasn’t a curse to be fought but instead a challenge to overcome. And the other affliction wasn’t an affliction at all, but blessing to be cherished once she realized her child’s name was Susan instead of Danny.
“I think if your mother was here, she’d be holding you right now,” Sophie said. Susan thought of the final moments of her mother’s life and as hard as the first eighteen years together had been, it felt as if the last year made up for all the lack. She smiled and nodded, trying without success to keep from crying.
“Oh, honey, it’s going to be okay,” Sophie said as the girl sobbed in her arms. That word again…’okay.’ What normally might have conveyed merely adequate served as a sweet reminder that Susan’s life with her son would be a good thing for the girl. That assurance that goes beyond the word and brings life and peace to the uncertain.
“I know….It’s just so hard,” Susan said haltingly.
“Shhhh….shhhh….” Sophie stroked the girl’s hair and pulled her close; allowing her to rest in the love she had found for a young woman who rarely if ever had love for herself.
“It’s going to be okay….”
The present; Christmas Eve, Paris, France….
In the magic of moonlight,
When I sigh, "Hold me close, dear,"
Chances are you believe the stars
That fill the skies are in my eyes.
Susan lay back on the bed; a sea of bright colors and soft textures that went almost to waste for the moment. She stared with nearly sightless eyes at the ceiling; the soft, almost colorless blur of a fan filled what little vision that remained. Tears streamed down her temple and wet her ears as she sobbed softly.
“Honey….it’s okay.” Jackie practically pled with her. That word again. Okay? Acceptable? Adequate? Was she adequate? Authentic? Reasonable substitute?
“I….I’m so …..so sorry.” She turned her face toward his. They lay side by side; hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder, but she might just as well be an ocean away. Her heart was in two places at the same time. She loved him, but felt that old and familiar if completely erroneous feeling of her back-home insecurity instead of the restful newness of being a bride in a wonderfully exciting place. Apologies where coos and whispers and laughter should have been spoken. And all the guilt of being unable to coo and whisper and laugh as well. Jackie, as they say, would have none of that.
“I’ve changed my mind,” he said as he sat up and swung his feet over the bed side. Standing up he walked around and stood next to her side. She gasped in dread that what she feared had come to pass. He knelt down by her side and grabbed her left hand. Leaning closer, he began to roll the rings on her finger slightly; almost as if he was going to pull them off. Instead, he kissed the ring and her hand. Turning it over, he kissed her palm and wrist.
“Yes….I’ve changed my mind. I don’t think you’re right after all. You may have given up on us, but I’m not giving up on you.” It would have almost sounded like a rebuke but for the softness of tone and the halting words that accompanied his own tears; tears that spilled onto her wrist like a soft rain in Springtime.
“I love you.” Simple but to the point. He followed it up with a gentle kiss on her hand once again.
“But….”
“I told you long ago that you don’t get to tell me what’s best for me, right?” As he said it his hand urged her to sit up. He leaned close.
“But…” She protested even as her words were cut short by a kiss. He savored her tears as he kissed the odd, single dimple on her left cheek. He urged her with his hand to her feet, all the while kissing her as much as he could while walking her gently over to the open door to the balcony.
“It’s sunset….” He said, using his stump in a broad if awkward and unseen gesture.
“Purple…you remember…. Almost like….do you remember Noxema?” An odd question, but her past still rested silently in her memory, the good and the bad both. She nodded…
“And pink? Like a Crayola pink crayon?” It seemed almost patronizing as he evoked memories; not from the recent past of their relationship but to a time when her eyes saw and beheld and rejoiced as a child. She nodded again.
“Grey…you know that dull almost dirty white…like shirts that have been washed too many times? The moon is just beginning to show.” Another ‘visible’ reminder. She nodded. Her hand went to her face; a gesture of embarrassment that is quickly ebbing and replaced by relief. He kissed her cheek once again.
“It’s a beautiful sunset…like any you’ve ever seen.” She blinked back tears as she nodded once again; the imagination filling in the gaps between his words and her sightless vision.
“I love you.” He said as he pulled her close; kissing her lips once again. He pulled back slightly and spoke again.
“Can you remember the biggest smile you ever saw…of your own? The nicest surprise…the best Christmas? A birthday?” He kissed her face by her left eye; a small scar rubbed softly by his lips sent a shudder through her; almost distracting from the question. He pulled back and waited for her reply.
“The…the day….when you asked me to marry you? When I got home, I sat in the kitchen and I cried and cried. I felt so...ugly. But then I remembered your face as I ‘saw’ your love for me. My hands felt that love through your eyes and lips and even feeling the clench of your jaw. And I smiled… it was so strong that it felt like it almost hurt. Like nothing I could ever recall…..Yes…” She nodded, almost duplicating what she had just described.
“Touch my face?” An invitation. She raised her hand tentatively; almost like raising a gaze to nervously behold either acceptance or defeat. She placed her hand on his cheek. The smile lines were deep and long. The lips parted slightly and mouth urged off to one side only a bit. The tears flowing freely and with great joy as Jackie began to weep for his bride. She pulled her hand back away from his face; feeling like she was somehow intruding on something very personal. He reached up and gently placed her hand on his face once again.
“Please….don’t stop,” he stammered. Like a kiss, her touch was entirely personal, but without any intrusion. Her fingers kissed his face even as his lips kissed her other hand; treasuring what to some would have seen as second or even third best.
“I…love you, Susan… And with all my heart, I know you love me….that you’re the best for me and I am…I am the best for you. You deserve my love just as much as I know I deserve yours.” He spoke softly and guided her back to bed. The room was darker as the sunlight slowly waned, but the room was bright and alive with the brilliant colors of the love between the two.
He lowered her gently onto the bed; following after her as he lay down and pulled her onto him.
“I love you so much.” Two words that she never imagined would grace her life. She lowered herself and her lips found his. Kissing him gently she spoke haltingly; pauses coming not from uncertainty but spoken with unfamiliar but growing faith in the truth they conveyed.
“I know." she said as she settled into his arms; safe, secure, and entirely loved.
Guess you feel you'll always be
The one and only one for me
And, if you think you could,
Well, chances are your chances are awfully good.
The chances are, your chances are...awfully good.
The Russell home, Flemington, New Jersey...
“Damn it, Alan…I just don’t understand. It’s not like you went through combat. You’ve got to man up and put all this nonsense behind you.” Blake Russell looked at his son and shook his head. The boy had hardly been home three months and was already proving to be a major disappointment to his father.
“It’s not like that, Dad. You just don’t know what it was like.”
“Two tours in Nam when I was younger than you are now, and another in Desert Storm? Oh, I sure as hell know what it was like! Come on, Alan, you lost four kids in your graduating class and Richie Fanning is still in rehab. At least you’re still alive.”
“Listen to your father, Alan. You can always talk to us if you need to.” Bernice Russell patted her son on the arm.
“I want you to go over to Taliaferro’s today and talk with Jim; he’s holding a job for you, but he’s not going to wait forever.” That Blake completely ignored his son’s training and calling mattered little. He didn’t respect his son, even if he did love him, and a job was a job.
“And you should think twice about complaining, Alan. Jimmy junior is one of those kids I just mentioned, not that it means much to you. Just shake it off and get going, okay?” His father laughed at the end and patted him on the back, trying to sound lighthearted. Unfortunately nothing about what he said would ever seem lighthearted to the boy.
The last conversation came to mind; the last words. Nothing special on a nothing special day in a very special place. Jimmy was just helping out a friend.
“We’ll get together after the shift; I can’t wait to get home, Babe.”
There was something behind his words that gave Alan the confidence to trust his judgment. So he nodded his head and smiled. It was the last time he would seem Jimmy Taliaferro in this plane of existence. Another time and another place perhaps in the near future, Al would have been left as a surviving spouse, but not now. In his heart of hearts he would always love Jimmy, but life robbed him of his true self and his true love.
Later that week, Veterans's Health Care, Lyons, New Jersey campus...the office of Vincent Paglarulo, PsyD, PhD, Maj, US Army Ret.
“Tell me some more, Alan,” Vince sat across from him and opened up his posture by spreading his arms slightly, palms up in welcome. He had been dealing with young men and women like Alan for quite a while, having been Desert Storm vet himself, and working with those hurt by the pain of war.
“He knew me before we both enlisted. I didn’t realize how much until we ended up at the hospital in Balad.”
Vince nodded but kept silent.
“Yeah…they tell me it’s the busiest military hospital. We sure kept busy.”
Alan shrugged his shoulders. To say they were busy was an understatement. He re-united with Jimmy Taliaferro while stationed there as a nurse; the call up as a reservist spared him the embarrassment of explaining his career choice to his family. And it spared nothing for him otherwise, as meeting Jimmy brought back good times and acceptance and one less person to worry about as he worked side by side with folks who would have been shocked by who he really was. And loss.
“Don’t ask? I don’t have to, Al…you forget I dated your sister Miriam…she didn’t exactly keep secrets.” Jimmy had revealed to him after one long shift. There was an odd grinning persona that Jimmy seemed to have adopted whenever the two worked together.
“Please don’t tell anyone.” Alan had begged him unnecessarily. Jimmy just smiled and shook his head every time.
“Never.” The friendship had just been an acquaintance of sorts since they were joined in a manner of speaking by Alan’s sister. And they became even more joined as the two of them shared a common grief when Miriam died after her long bout with uterine cancer. The two fell together as friends, but when they reunited in Balad, it became a curious relationship as Jimmy revealed his secret even as he shared Alan’s.
“You don’t know, do you? I guess I’ve been too good at hiding it.” Jimmy said one evening after they worked with a particularly good surgeon in saving a soldier’s leg. They had signed off after about fourteen hours on duty and both of them were vulnerable and exhausted.
“I think I’m….well, I’m not sure what I am, because I really love women.” Jimmy laughed softly and smiled the knowing grin once again. Unlike most times, the familiar expression put Alan ill at ease. He closed his eyes and looked away, but all he could see in his mind’s eye was himself…or rather the self no one besides he and Miriam and Jimmy knew. A hand touched his arm, startling him.
“You look just like her….you’re so much alike,” he said, using the present tense as if Miriam was still alive. In a way she was, since Alan shared more than just familial love.
“Stop, Jimmy…someone will hear.” Alan turned away, looking for escape.
“Nobody in the hall except for you and me. I won’t say anything, but I promise you we will talk about this. It’s too important to ignore, and we won’t be over here forever, okay?” His words would have seemed cryptic to any casual observer, but Alan knew exactly what Jimmy meant.
“You can do this,” Jimmy had said. The internet does more than just keep soldiers and marines and airmen and women connected with families. The more encouragement Alan received, the more he understood that it not only was possible, but it was imperative that he seek help once he left the Army. And the encouragement had grown into more than just help and support. Jimmy had told the truth, of course, since he was only attracted to women. And Alan remembered; a life set apart and forgotten was reanimated by the care of a friend thousands of miles away from home.
“You started to tell me about your last conversation when we met last week, but you stopped short. Are you okay with it now?” Vince tilted his head and held his hands out again. Alan bit his lip and began to speak, almost in a mumble. After a moment he got a bit louder and clearer.
“What do you mean; you’ve got to do this?”
"Cappy heard from her husband; their ten year old got hit by a car...she's out of here first thing tomorrow."
"Oh, come on, Jimmy. Why you? Can't someone else do it?"
Alan complained. After months of anticipation, both were due to be rotated stateside. Jimmy had agreed to the extra shift. Alan had gotten attached to being attached, and the two had spent more than their fair share of ‘hiding,’ though a couple of the nurses had noticed but had kept quiet.
It was meant to be just a simple act of kindness for a friend. But roads always can be dangerous; even in secure areas with guards and protection. A sergeant who had too much inner pain chose to drive after too much wine, despite the protest of his buddies, and Jimmy was killed instantly while crossing the street on the way back to the barracks.
“It hurts to know that you never got your chance, doesn’t it?” Vince interrupted.
Alan had mentioned the word chance so many times in so many ways in other sessions and even a few times in group therapy. Vince rephrased it and re-worded it many times as well, but when ‘push came to shove,’ Alan would back down.
“I’m no worse than anyone else.”
Another mantra. Vince felt it was time to do a little shoving.
“And that makes it okay? Alan…you’ve said I don’t know how many times that it hurts that he’s gone, but at the same time you minimize…like it isn’t that big a deal. Your body language tells me otherwise. You’re really being unfair to yourself; especially now that you’re coming to grips with who Jimmy really was to you.”
“I don’t understand.” Alan frowned; an expression that belied his statement. He knew exactly what Vince had meant.
“You’re a widow.” Vince said it candidly; the first time that word was used to acknowledge Alan's loss.
Alan looked away. He was wearing slacks and a polo shirt, and his hair was near military length, but to Jimmy? Had Jimmy still been alive, it would have been highly likely that Allie would be sitting in front of Vince instead of Alan, even in a military hospital setting, and for completely different reasons. But Alan survived instead; perhaps more than one soul perished on that street in Iraq that night. Alan looked at Vince and tried to speak but the denial on his lips died as he wept.
At the Russell home once again...
“You get over to Taliaferro’s yet?” Blake Russell wasn’t an idiot; he had already talked to Jimmy Sr. and Alan knew his father too well.
“No…I haven’t and I’m not. Besides, I told you last week that I had an application in at the hospital.” Alan looked away, fearing the glare he’d receive.
“Oh, come on, Alan. You still stuck on that? I thought you had gotten over that phase.” His father was his typical dismissive self. He glared at his son and shook his head.
“I don’t understand. You tell me you could hardly deal with it over there, and still you insist on going back to it. What do you think you have to prove?”
Bernice frowned. She had been a nurse herself for nearly twenty-six years, and had stepped away from the stress of the ER to work as a nurse practitioner at a local medical practice. Alan looked into his mother’s eyes and saw an understanding that she never expressed openly; an almost camaraderie that never existed between him and his father. But then Alan had so much more in common with his mother than nursing; something that was going to express itself.
“I’ve got to do this…It’s not just for me, Mom, but for the ones who never came back.” With that he received a rare nod of approval from his father, followed by a lecture of disapproval.
“What would you know? You didn’t even see combat. Try sitting in mud up to your waist with shells whizzing by your head…. Try having your arm refuse to work because of the shrapnel you just took in your shoulder.” Blake scowled. It was the most his father had talked about his service in years, but he wasn’t finished.
“Try watching your best friend’s life just bleed away while you hold him….” A commonality that neither understood or realized; at least until that moment.
“I didn’t watch, Dad, but I held him in my arms when they brought his body in.” Alan said haltingly.
“I suppose that’s why you have to go to that shrink over in Lyons? That Post Traumatic crap!” Bernice gasped and reached over to touch Blake’s arm. He shied away.
“No!” She practically shouted as she stood up. Bernice stood across from her husband but she turned to face Alan.
“This stops right now! I’m sick of it. You think you’re the only one who saw someone die? What in God’s name do you think I’ve been doing for the past twenty-three years? A little kid gets torn in half by an SUV….a mother loses her baby to a kick in her stomach by her boyfriend? Do you even remember the accident on 78 that had me going all day long a few years ago? You were over in Nam for three years, and I’m sorry you had to see that, but goddamn it, Blake, you’re not the only one.”
“No, Mommy, please!” Alan looked at his mother, pleading. He hadn’t called her that since he was in fourth grade.
“No, Alan…he needs to know everything. And you need to know everything.” She was shaking, but continued, determined once and for all to help.
“You have no right!” Blake snapped at her. It was too much to bear. She grabbed her half-empty coffee mug and threw it against the sink, shattering it.
“I have no right? No, Blake. I have every right. If I didn’t love you, I’d have no right, but I do love you, damn it…And I’m sick of this!” She waved her arm at the two of them.
“Do you remember when you were little…I think you were in second grade…..” She looked out the back door, replaying the scene in her head.
“Bobby Schmidt…Richie’s brother….set off a fire-cracker in the back yard.”
“No, Bernice…don’t,” Blake looked at her, his scowl turned to a sad frown. He looked out the back door as well. She looked at him, and while she didn’t ignore him, she went ahead and spoke anyway.
“You thought your father was angry at you and you cried all day because he pushed you down hard onto the ground.” Alan had already recalled the moment, and try as he might, he couldn’t avoid the tears that went along with the feeling of rejection.
“No, honey,” Bernice said, waving a broad gesture again toward the back yard.
“He wasn’t angry. I saw it all. The firecracker went off, and he pushed you down and at the same time, he turned his back on the sound, with Miriam in his arms. He wasn’t angry with you, honey. He was protecting you.” Bernice held back the tears, but Blake began to cry softly, almost a whimper.
“And all those times you heard him yelling at night? You though he was angry with me and you and your sister?”
“Bernice…please…no.” Blake looked at her and saw her resolve. He put his head down on his arms on the table, his face turned away from them both and began to sob.
“He was having nightmares. He still does.” She put her head on his back and began to stroke his hair. It was both painful and tender. She kissed him softly on his cheek and stood up once again, staring at Alan as he gasped.
“And your son?” She patted her husband on the back to get his attention. He turned his head to face them, his eyes red with tears; shame and fear still visited the Russell home.
“No, Mommy, please.” Another plea by a child’s voice, even if it was a sadly-hated tenor.
“No, honey…he needs to know. He’s your father, and he loves you.” She shook her head before grabbing his hand. She squeezed and smiled through her own tears.
“We knew that Jimmy had died the following day, because your father had heard from Jimmy Sr. Marie called me over while Daddy talked. She wanted to know what there was she could do for you. I didn’t understand right away. Looking back on your e-mails afterward I realized what I had been missing."
“’Bernice, are you okay?’ She was asking me if I was okay. I didn’t understand. She had just lost her son…her baby boy…and she was asking me, like I knew what was going on.”
“Mommy…please!” Alan pointed to his father. She shook her head no and continued, almost like when she would give Alan and his sister the horrible tasting cough medicine when they were little; for their own good.
“’Jimmy’s last message last night, Bernice! He was so excited about coming home, and how things would be for him and Allie.’” She choked up a bit at the end.
“Mommy….please?” By now Alan was crying. His father lifted his head a bit at looked at Bernice once again in question.
“’Allie?’ I said, like an idiot. I remember Miriam used to call you that all the time. You used to get so upset when she did and I thought it was because you were embarrassed. You just were afraid.” Bernice bit her lip, mostly from sadness, but guilt was playing a major if thankfully diminishing role in their talk that night.
“’My boy had it all planned out. He loved her, Bernice,’ she said to me! I thought he meant Miriam. We all knew how much he loved your sister!” She took a deep breath and stifled a sob. There was a need that she would express when she finished, but at that moment there was still too much ground to cover for her to give way to crying.
“I stared at her! ‘Of course he loved her,’ I said, but Marie smiled and put her hand on my arm.”
“Mommy!” Alan was nearly hysterical with fear and shame and grief. He mirrored his father’s pose and put his head down on the table on his arms and began to sob.
“No, baby…it’s time we all met!” She put her hand on his back and kneaded his shoulder.
“’You don’t know, do you, Bernice,’ Marie said to me. ‘Not Miriam…Allie…Jimmy…Oh, god, I thought you knew.’” Bernice shook her head, almost in chastisement for missing such an integral part of her child’s life.
“And I told her that I didn’t know, but even as I was telling her that I realized what she was saying. I should have seen it….’Mom…I’m so happy. I know what I’m supposed to do with my life,’ you said in your e-mails. ‘Mom…I feel so great.’ This is in the midst of a war and you’re telling me you’re happy?”
“I…I’m so sorry!’ Alan sobbed into his sleeve.
“No…I’m sorry. Miriam asked me once when you were about ten or so if Daddy and I didn't like girls. Of course I said no...of course we liked having a girl. I thought she meant her. We were so sure of what you were that we didn’t pay attention to who you were! So when Marie told me about Allie, it was like a light clicked in my head. But I couldn’t tell your father.” She said it almost like he wasn’t even in the room, even though he still sat there, sobbing.
“So I have the two of you. I love you both dearly, but I can’t keep this up. I feel like I’m in a circus and I’m spinning pie plates….something starts to slow down and it all looks like everything is going to come crashing down. You need to talk…you love each other, so there’s nothing either of you can say that should make a difference. This is your chance!” She sighed, hoping she was reaching then both.
“No…he won’t…it won’t work. I’m sorry.” Alan sobbed. He went to get up but felt a hand grab his arm; an unexpected gentle tug instead of a cruel demanding yank pulled him back down. He turned and saw his father look at him for the first time with a measure of acceptance. Blake shook his head, not in denial but in sorrow and regret. He pulled the young man closer to him and touched his face, still unable to speak.
“Dad?” A one word question that was vague at first hearing, but the nod by the older man gave everyone hope that things would change.
A few years later...
Hunterdon County Democrat – Wednesday, June 13, 2018:
Blake and Bernice Russell of Flemington, New Jersey are proud to announce that their daughter, Alison Miriam Russell-Cannizaro of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, has been accepted into the Doctorate of Nursing Education Program at Drexel University. Ms. Russell-Cannizaro holds a Master’s Degree in Nursing Education and a Master’s Degree as a Nurse Practitioner. She is an adjunct professor at Drexel University. She and her Life-partner, Dr. Regina Russell-Cannizaro, PsyD, PhD, are employed by the Health and Wellness Center of Ardmore, Pennsylvania.
Ardmore, Pennsylvania, 2020…
“You get to those papers on your desk, sweetie?” Allie called out to Regina from the bathroom between face washing and teeth brushing, so to speak. Her voice sounded only a wee bit sudsy. Regina poked her head into the bathroom and smiled.
“On it right now. We still getting together after work with Andrea and Betty?” She looked out the window as if to ‘see’ the clinic down the street where they had met. If it hadn’t been for Betty, the two might never have connected, but it was Andrea who really pushed them once they met.
“Unless something comes up, but you’re not on call and I’m on vacation.” She giggled, since it was odd for Allie to be the one with time off, but it was really only for a few days. She leaned closer and rubbed her partner’s tummy, seeking some movement.
“Greg and Marsha seemed to be taking some time off as well. It’s more like them turning over and going back to sleep than any kicking the past few hours.” She shuddered.
“Oh, don’t….honey? They’re okay. They just seem to respond to my voice with a little more…” She paused and pulled her hand away, raising it up as if to get attention.
“See….they waltz for you and cha cha for me.” She patted Regina’s tummy once again before lifting her hand to touch her partner’s face.
“Have I told you how much I love you?” A stock if well-intended question. Regina nodded and kissed Allie’s cheek.
“Every day in every way….I love you too!” She grabbed the bottle of Scope and took a swig.
“Ewwwww….orange juice and mouthwash….ewwww.” She spat the liquid in the sink, just missing Allie’s pajama top.
“Gotta run.” She kissed Allie once more and hurried down the hallway.
“Love you!” she called before running out the doorway. Allie cocked her head and listened. Hearing the car drive off, she walked back to the bedroom where she closed the door, and opened the closet. Never one for dressing up, it was a rare if odd and completely understandable occasion. Pulling off her pajamas, she grabbed an outfit hanging on the back of the closet door. She padded on the thick carpet over to Regina’s dresser. Pulling out some items, she proceeded to get dressed for the day; the moment, actually.
“Not bad,” she sighed. She closed the closet door and looked at herself in the mirror. Standing across from her was a woman who very strongly resembled her, but with one decided difference. While it was merely a throw pillow, the bump in her outfit gave her the appearance of a woman who was ‘great with child,’ as her grandmother might have said. She turned slightly and viewed herself in profile, with her hands placed on her tummy. It was really meant to be a way of connecting; she wanted so much to be a part of what Regina was experiencing.
And of course, they had made careful plans that allowed for her ‘pre-change’ condition to bring their hopes for children to fruition. But in spite of that connection, there was something deep inside, perhaps, that Allie missed. No womb meant no birth on her part. And as silly as that might sound to some, considering the blessing they were about to enjoy, she began to cry softly. Incomplete, some might say.
And inauthentic, Allie would say all too frequently, despite reassurances by Regina. She was so ‘into’ her grief that she didn’t hear the bedroom door open. Regina stood there, almost incredulous but for the tears in her own eyes.
“You’ll make a great mom, honey.” Regina said. Allie turned; her face grew beet red and she shook her head.
“This isn’t…I’m sorry…I…” She stammered. Regina stepped closer and drew her partner into a warm hug; faux and authentic baby bumps coming together softly. Allie kept shaking her head, and by then was unable to speak but for saying ‘I’m sorry’ over and over. Regina stroked her hair and kissed her cheeks; oddly savoring the salt of Allie’s tears, which were dear to her. She kissed her again and spoke.
“It’s alright, Allie….it’s alright.”
Regina lay next to Allie; her hand had found its way into Allie’s mess of bed-hair and her fingers were happily entwined with a large curl that draped over Allie’s temple. She played with the tress and cooed wordlessly in Allie’s ear; the soft breath sending a chill at the back of Allie’s neck.
“Mmmmmm,” Regina purred. Allie starred awkwardly at the wall as she found herself unable to escape Regina’s attention. She rolled over further; the tangle of hair pulled Regina with her and she found herself under her spouse; uncomfortable and unworthy in a way.
“Mmmmm.” Another coo. As serene as Regina sounded, her voice was almost a counterpoint to the silent tears streaming down Allie’s face. Guilt had joined with the other feelings to accuse her.
“Why….” So many questions remained in a life outsiders would have determined was as complete as for what anyone in their right mind could hope. But nothing truly is settled as long as we draw a breath. Should haves and could haves often visit us and push us back to doorways and windows that were never opened or had been closed. Allie thought of another time years ago….
“Do you know how much I love you?” The young man said hastily even as he looked over his shoulder. An alcove in an abandoned hotel cum makeshift hospital could only provide so much cover. Jimmy Taliaferro was as brave as anyone you might meet, but he feared being discovered; his own misplaced guilt over rules and regulations that held fast and cruelly told him and Alan that they could never be as long as they continued to serve with honor. Ironic.
“Shhhhh…. Jimmy?” Alan protested even as Jimmy leaned closer and kissed him…. Kissed him? It wasn’t settled as far as don’t ask, don’t tell was concerned, but as far as Jimmy was concerned, it was Allison he kissed even if the girl still wore her male mufti. And as soon as they reached their departure from the military, all would be set right. He touched Allie’s cheek, evoking a wince.
“Stop….I …. I don’t….”
“What? Don’t want? Don’t know? Dear god, Allie! Stop it. Everybody is downstairs and no one can hear us.” Jimmy glanced past the broken elevator to the stairwell leading below. The top floor was only used for temporary storage and they had at least a few minutes peace but for the intrusive guilt and shame they both fought. Jimmy’s guilt was borne of his worry for his lover and her safety in the midst of a world that still held her life to be wrong. He feared discovery would lead to more hurt and more shame and more days of waiting for the world to change.
Allie, on the other hand, felt ashamed and guilty merely for wanting to be something closer at least o what she thought she was. That in itself was a huge part of her problem. While the United States of America in general and Military Code of Justice in specific might deny what she was, her creator had already determined before her birth that she would become. It just wouldn’t and couldn’t happen while she wore the uniform that bore ‘his’ name.
“I can’t stop,” Jimmy laughed softly. Compelled? Urged? No…obligated to love the woman who stood nervously just out of eyesight from the threatening stairwell. He couldn’t deny he loved her, and he made every effort to affirm her whenever he could.
“Jimmy….NO….” Allie protested. It was so hard to keep calm and composed. Tears flowed regularly for all of the men and women who sought to repair with steady hands what war had torn asunder; too often without success and too sadly with little ones who would never see life beyond their brief stay on earth. But tears for herself were too shameful and selfish. And too selfish to risk exposure for Jimmy’s sake. She didn’t deserve his love if it meant him being hurt. She just couldn’t understand because she ever believed she was worth any sacrifice. But Jimmy kept trying.
“Allie? Yes…. Nobody here but me and the future Mrs. Taliaferro!” It felt odd for both of them since it was only a dream that they had for Alan’s departure of sorts once they returned home. The form of Alan Russell may have stood just out of view in the alcove but it was Allie Russell whom Jimmy held. He leaned closer; lifting the shaking girl’s chin in a soft caress before bestowing a good night kiss.
“We’ll get together after the shift; I can’t wait to get home, Babe.”
“You don’t have to… “ Allie hesitated. She looked over to the stairwell as if they would be interrupted at any second. Jimmy pulled back and half frowned.
"Cappy heard from her husband; their ten year old got hit by a car...she's out of here first thing tomorrow."
"Oh, come on, Jimmy. Why you? Can't someone else do it?"
Jimmy shrugged his shoulders; a quick glance at his watch followed by another kiss, but just a see-you-later peck on the cheek.
“I’ll be back in the morning, Al….” He paused. Back to the non-descript and non-specific; the double-clutch of trying to manage life with a best friend which everyone would expect and love of a woman nobody knew. Allie’s hand held as long as she could until Jimmy pulled away and ran down the stairs. Allie sighed and put her hand to her face. Too much to hide and too much to deny, she started crying again. If anyone asked, she could just say it was the sight of the little girl that evening in her father’s arms or maybe the E-6 who left a wife and three kids.
But life has a way of sorting itself out; half-truths sadly becoming all too real. The next morning didn’t greet excitement and hope for a bright future. That night; only forty minutes after they parted, Jimmy Taliaferro was struck by a Hummer driven by a man who had just enough to drink to cause inattention after a very long day, and before Allie Russell ever had the chance to stand before God and Man as Mrs. Taliaferro, she was left a widow with a very huge and fearfully irreparable hole in her heart....
“I….” Allie went to protest as Regina climbed on top and began kissing her. The roundness of her tummy felt odd and comforting and sad all at once as Allie turned her face away.
“You’re a parent, Al….” Regina said as she pulled Allie’s face back. No one ever called her Al. Her parents always called her Alan and then Allison or Allie. Only the lover from her past. The husband she should have had. And the feelings of betrayal and disloyalty over a memory that was slowly fading; more guilt and shame just for enjoying what life had brought to her in the woman who sought to comfort.
“You know you’re a mother, right?” Regina said; almost playful but for a near-serious look. She kissed Allie’s nose.
“NO…I’m not. I’m….. I’m nothing. I’m not a father…not a mother. Dear God, Reg….I’m not even a woman.” She went to get out from under Regina but the woman would have nothing of that. She pinned Allie’s arms against her breast and leaned closer; a look crossed her face that shouted ‘this is for you own good.’
“You are my wife and I am your wife and we are going to be mothers to the child you gave to me to bear. I don’t care what came before this moment so long as you understand that this is what was intended for us all along. Not the past…. Not any other person.” A look of hurt and confusion grew as Allie began to cry without words. Regina shook her head.
“I’m sorry Jimmy got killed, Al….but what do you think he would say if he saw you now? Aren’t you exactly who both of you dreamed? Aren’t you the woman he loved?” Regina put her head on Allie’s chest and began to sob. For the two of them. For a man she had never met. For the child in her womb. Allie pulled her hand from Regina’s grasp and touched her cheek.
“I know he loved you, Al….” Regina spoke haltingly as her sobbing ebbed. That name again. What would have been almost a cruel invective from anyone echoed the blessing it had been years before. She wasn’t replacing Jimmy; Regina Marie Russell-Cannizaro had succeeded her predecessor. His shoes weren’t too big to fill since no one was ever intended to fill them. She followed in the path he had started alongside Allie; continuing where he left off.
“I’ve been…. I wanted to ask you….” Regina said; her hesitation from hope rather than fear. She looked into Allie’s eyes and saw a growing peace that couldn’t have come from her words alone. Somewhere else in time and space a soft tenor had joined her alto to sing to the woman in her arms. A blessing that became apparent as Allie began to smile even as her own crying subsided.
“Yes?” Allie almost whispered; only a small bit of apprehension mixed a great deal of hope of her own.
“Since the little ones are going to be coming soon, I think it’s time we settled on a name, okay?” Regina lowered her gaze slightly in apology. Now it was Allie’s turn to coax and encourage. She reached up and pulled Regina into a kiss. First on the lips; softly and tentatively. Then on the cheek just in front of Regina’s right ear.
“I….the girl should be named for your Nana. Julianna? Would that be okay?” Allie kissed her cheek again.
“Yes….that would be wonderful. May…May I ….” She smiled with an odd almost elfin grin. Allie tilted her head slightly and squinted in suspicious if happy anticipation. Regina nodded and her smile grew wider. She looked away as her tears welled once again in loving eyes before she spoke.
“Our little boy? I can’t imagine a better name…..” Allie shook her head ‘no;’ that denial that speaks of the too wonderful to be true feeling we all have at the best times. Regina nodded even as her tears spilled onto Allie’s cheek. She smiled once more and spoke one word.
“Jimmy?” Allie began to sob; release from the past to accept the blessing of the present and hope for the future. Regina fell into Allie’s arms and the two wept tears of sadness and joy. A few minutes later Regina lay on her side. Allie’s head was resting on a pillow wedged against Regina’ body; both still crying as Allie’s tears cascaded down the large refuge that enveloped their babies. Regina stroked her hair and resumed the cooing that had begun the night as they drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
The Battaglia home...Davenport, Iowa…
“You okay?” Rita called from the kitchen. The boy looked up and smiled from his book
“Yeah…just a bit…sad.”
“I know honey, I miss him so much. Today of all days. We’ll do something special when I get back, okay?” Another all-too-necessary trip that took Rita away from home once again, and left her fourteen year old son alone.
“I know this is hard, honey, but you’ve got to be strong. It won’t last forever. Jerry promised me that starting in October the trips won’t be as frequent when the office in New York is running on its own.” Rita sighed; she no more believed that to be true than her too-often disappointed child, as evidenced by the frowns on both their faces.
“You don’t have to tell me what you think I want to hear, Mom. I’m a big….” His voice trailed off.
“I know, honey. And I promise we’ll talk when I get back.” She made that promise all too frequently; fully meaning to fulfill it, but just as frequently pulled in the wrong and conflicting direction. As trapped as Tony felt, his anxiety was no match for Rita’s, since she felt the weight of his disappointment and hers guilt as well.
“Tell Daddy I love him, okay?” Tony half-smiled.
“Always, honey. I’ll bring you back something special, alright?” She surprised him as he lifted his head from his book once again to see her standing next to him.
“I got this for you. I didn’t quite find what I was looking for, but I think you’ll really like it. Just remember me and Daddy when you open it tomorrow, okay?”
Rita frowned as if she had planned to disappoint her son once again; it must be all those poor career choices she made when she set aside her career to raise him after Aldo died on that fateful day. It was her fault that she took the path of least resistance to gain a degree in a field which held little interest for her. It was her fault that the office in Springfield had somehow entered the wrong information and that they were left to the mercies of the system when no insurance could be found.
“Mom? Can we have a talk….when you get back?” The boy put his head down, looking at the package in his lap.
“I’ve got to talk with you, too, honey. We’ll talk….yes…maybe go to that restaurant everyone’s talking about, okay?” An odd smile crossed her face.
“I wish you had time now, Mom….” Tony said slowly even as Rita moved toward the door. She turned back and saw him staring down.
“I wish I had time, too. As soon as I get back, okay?” She quickly ran out the door after blowing him a kiss.
“Daddy says hello.” Rita said as she put her purse on the counter. Tony had just gotten home from school and had started to make dinner; Pollo Vino Blanco.
“Do you think he remembers me?” Tony called from the kitchen as he stood over the stove, pouring a cup of white wine into a pan. Another ritual that was growing sadder as the boy felt more and more distant from the father he never knew.
“Honey…I think he does….he’s been in our lives since that day, even if we don’t see him or even sense him, but I sometimes wonder….then I can remember his voice, and I feel better.” She paused and realized that her son probably didn’t remember Aldo’s voice, but Tony began to sing softly.
La luce che tu dai
Nel cuore restera
A ricordarci che
L'eterna stella sei
Rita sat down and put her hand to her face and began to cry; Tony did remember, and so did she….
I pray we'll find your light,
And hold it in our hearts
When stars go out each night,
Remind us where you are...
She was reminded of where Aldo was every night when she turned to embrace a specter in an empty space next to her. The light that didn’t shine in this plane of existence, but illuminated her heart. She raised her head and spoke.
“Honey…I didn’t think you’d remember.” She half-smiled; the memory almost as painful as it was sweet.
“I didn’t remember all the words, but I remembered most of the tune; I got the lyrics off the internet. I figured it was something that might be good when you got back.”
“Was that what you wanted to talk about?” She asked with anticipation; she had so much to talk about herself, but Tony had seemed so disappointed when she left earlier in the week.
“No, mom….well, I did want to give that to you, but no….something else. But you go first, okay?”
“I had a talk with Jerry. I’m not traveling anymore; ever!” Tony’s eyes widened in surprise.
“I can’t do this any longer. It’s not fair to you and it’s really not fair to me either. I want to be here; this is such an important time of your life, and I’ve missed too much already.” She began to tear up and Tony recognized her all-too-familiar feelings. He walked over and held her.
“No, Mom…stop it. You did what you had to.” She sat down at the kitchen table.
“I…need to be here for me, honey…..my life is passing me by, and I’ve given up too much already. I’m so sorry.”
“Mom…please…” Tony stirred the pan once and pulled it off the burner, turning off the stove. He poured some coffee for her and sat down, grabbing her hand.
“Tony….You know I loved your father.” Her words almost seemed to plead for forgiveness for an unknown offense. Rita had been widowed ten years; a single mom since Tony was four years old.
“And Daddy loved you….but I know, Mom….it’s been so long. Is this what you wanted to talk about?”
“Ye….yes. She hesitated; Rita’s guilt rose swiftly to the surface over something important, normal, and necessary.
“Mom…I think….I think Daddy would understand….like he’s been guiding you all along anyway. If you found someone as nice as Daddy….it’ll be a good thing. Okay?”
“I don’t think anyone could ever replace your Dad, but I think I found someone…who reminds me of him so much….”
“That’s great, Mom….that’s wonderful. What’s his name?” He smiled and squeezed her hand but she pulled away slightly, almost ashamed.
“His…..I….Tony, please forgive me?” She turned away and began to sob.
“Whatever for, Mom? For falling in love? It’s okay. Please, what’s his name?”
“Sandy.” She almost whispered it, choking back tears.
“Sandy? Not that guy in IT….Mom….he’s a jerk. You can’t stand him.”
“N…no….honey….not that Sandy….Sandy…. Jerry’s PA.”
“I don’t know him….should I?”
“No, honey….you don’t know ….her.” She looked away once again.
“Mom?” Tony’s voice grew softer, but the welcome was unmistakable.
“The really nice lady that works for Jerry? The one I met at the picnic in July? You…and her?” His tone might have been welcoming, but Rita felt nothing but shame and embarrassment.
“Y...yes.” She looked into her son’s eyes and saw nothing but love. He smiled, his own tears beginning to well in his eyes as he nodded. No other word for the moment as he pulled his mother into a hug and a kiss on the ear.
“It…it’s okay?” She whimpered, not meaning to be childish, but feeling lost like a little girl. Tony kissed her again and spoke.
“Whatever makes you happy, Mom…of course it’s okay!” He breathed out heavily, hoping that his words gave his mother comfort. She began to shake only a bit, still crying a little while before saying,
“I love her, Tony….I do…but I don’t want anything to come between us. I’ve neglected you for too long, and I can’t.”
“Mom….whatever makes you happy is going to help us…..you’ve been working and pulling a heavy weight for too long. I think Daddy would be fine. I know I am. Trick is, Mom….are you?”
He stared into her eyes, his own expression once again showing her nothing but acceptance. And she finally smiled through her tears.
“Okay? It’s okay?” Tony nodded and Rita pulled him close and kissed him. After a few minute of silence, save for the gentle sobbing of relief, Tony spoke.
“Mom….I’ve got something I need to tell you.” Now it was his turn to look away; the shame he felt was almost as overwhelming as Rita’s misplaced guilt. She grabbed his chin and gently turned it back to her.
“It’s okay. Nothing you could say could ever change things, honey. What is it?
“I…I’ve met someone as well.” His face began to redden and his eyes welled with tears once again. At fourteen, what or who could it be that made her son so ashamed. She held his chin fast as he tried to turn away.
“That’s wonderful, honey. Who did you meet?”
“Her….her name is Helen…...” He nearly sobbed and Rita shook her head.
“Helen? Do I know her, honey? One of your friends from school?”” He shook his head and once again tried to turn away. Rita took her hand away from his chin only long enough to touch his cheek, her fingers feeling the tears that now flowed freely.
“Honey? What’s wrong? Her name is Helen and you met her. You think I’d be upset about that? I don’t even know her. Why would I be upset?”
“You….you do know her; you’ve met her…” Rita’s expression changed to puzzlement, since she didn’t know anyone of her son’s friends named Helen.
“Who is she….did I meet her and not get her name? Helen doesn’t sound familiar.”
“That…that’s because you know her by another name, Mom. “ Rita shook her head slightly and Tony buried his face in her chest, weeping hard and barely able to speak, but finally he said haltingly,
“I’m Helen, Mom...It’s me….I’m Helen.”
“Mom….I….are you mad at me?” The boy looked down and away. Rita shook her head no, but of course, he didn’t notice her expression.
“I’m so sorry, Mom. I wanted to be just like Daddy…I really tried, but I let you down. I hate myself.” His voice trembled and he began to sob. Such a loss to sustain without dealing with undue guilt as well, but the Battaglias were very good at guilt.
“No, honey..it’s my fault,” she complained, as if being the person he was meant to be….her…Helen? It was as if it was something for both of them to hold their heads down in shame. It’s okay to feel disappointment, but they couldn’t live up to the expectations of a life that was ill-defined and poorly remembered. Aldo Battaglia was a good man, but a human being nonetheless, with shortcomings and flaws just like his wife and just like his erstwhile son. But they were too close and yet too far away from his life to recall just who the man actually was.
“I guess I’ll never be anything like him. Nothing…. A failure.” Tony began to resemble the girl he actually was long before he noticed the changes in himself. And of course, his mother took no note at all. Someone who cares cannot be called a disinterested third party, but someone who is disinterested cannot read the important signs nor hear the subtlety of inflection. Perhaps noticing body language, but without the perspective of someone who actually cares. Tony and Rita didn’t have anyone who could help them remember the real Aldo Battaglia and what he truly meant to them; in the past and even more so, for his child’s future. That was about to change.
“Sandy’s coming over for dinner. Now I think it’s best if we didn’t bring up Helen so soon, okay?” Of course it wasn’t okay. Tony needed to talk to both his mother and her intended; not as the son she thought she had raised to fourteen, but as the daughter both of them were about to share, along with someone else that neither knew existed.
“Hi…hello….anybody home?” A very sweet voice called from the front doorway. Sandy Nichols walked into the living room and repeated,
“Hi? Anybody home?”
“Sandy? I’m sorry, Miss Nichols? Hi…let me take your coat, okay?” The boy smiled and gathered Sandy’s coat and went to turn to put it in the hall closet.
“Here, would you take mine? Thanks.” He turned around and saw a young man…maybe three years older than him standing there. He wore blue jeans and a blue sweat shirt with USAF across the front. His hair was short and he had piercing blue eyes.
“Hi…I’m Tony….Miss Nichols? Mom went out to Kroger’s to pick up some coffee and half-and-half and some ice cream. She should be back in a few.” Tony practically stammered. It was going to be difficult enough talking to someone who might become his future step mother, but now with this other boy….they wouldn’t be able to talk at all.
“I’m sorry, I meant to say something. This is my son Jimmy. He’s back here for the holidays.” Tony looked over at the boy, who reached out and offered his hand, which Tony shook.
“I live with my Dad in Colorado.” He smiled again, which Tony found very awkward. If that was the case, he was looking at his future step-brother. He stepped back and pointed to the couch and chairs in the living room.
“Why…why don’t you make yourself comfortable. I’m just finishing dinner.” He stammered and walked back into the kitchen. Several minutes passed before they heard a familiar voice.
“Oh, hi….I see you’ve all met.” Rita said from front doorway. “I’m so glad you could come.”
A short while later...
“Sandy tells me you’ve applied for the Air Force Academy? That’s such a coincidence. Tony here hoping to attend when he graduates; his father was in the Air Force.” Rita said, but her voice trailed off at the end.
“Aldo….Col. Battaglia….he was working at the Pentagon….when...you know?” Sandy said to Jimmy, who nodded in understanding.
“You must be very proud of him,” Jimmy said, noting the picture on the mantel over the fireplace.
“Yes,” Rita said. “Tony wants to be a pilot, just like his dad.” She looked over at Tony, who frowned before putting his head down. To be a pilot in the United States Air Force seemed far away; almost like it was on a different planet and time. Rita cocked her head slightly, however, failing to pick up Tony’s obvious embarrassment.
“Wow….that’s a tall order,” Sandy said.
“Jim Sr. Jimmy’s Dad? He was a helo pilot in Desert Storm. Looks like our boys want to follow in their father’s footsteps,” Sandy said and Tony lifted his head and spoke.
“I…I’m sorry….I’m not feeling well….I’m…please excuse me.” He got up from the table and walked quickly down the hallway to his room.
“I’m sorry, Rita…Is everything okay?” Sandy shook her head and looked over at Jimmy.
“I hate to say I told you so, but I think you should have said something about Jimmy here. I think he was embarrassed and probably felt on the spot.” Rita nodded. She went to get up but Sandy put her hand on her arm.
“I think maybe I need to get to know him a bit better. Let me?” Rita shook her head no, but Sandy continued.
“If I’m going to be…if we’re going to be a family, you’ve got to let me try, okay…for my sake as well as his.” She got up and stepped closer, kissing Rita before walking down the hallway. Sandy knocked on the bedroom door gently and spoke.
“Is it alright for me to come in?”
“Why not…you’re going to anyway.” The voice seemed almost bitter, but there was a sadness underneath that Sandy picked up immediately.
“I’m sorry, hon. We should have said something sooner. I didn’t know Jimmy was coming until the last minute, and I swear to God we were planning on telling you about him today. We weren’t even sure about us until last week, honey. I’m so sorry.”
“S….okay.” It really wasn’t, but it was going to get better.
“Tony? Can I talk with you? I’ve got a confession to make, and you’re the only one who can hear it, alright?” Very heavy responsibility for a fourteen year old, but Sandy’s tone was more than just polite. There seemed to be almost a sad but urgent tinge to her voice.
“I must apologize for your Mom….and for me. But we talk all the time. So when I first asked her…when I proposed…” She paused and sat on the bed next to the boy.
“Yes, sweetie, proposed. I love your mom and this is Iowa, after all.” Tony smiled and raised his eyebrows only a bit.
“When I proposed, we promised we would have no secrets. None. So she knows that Jimmy isn’t Jim Sr.’s biological son and that I had a boyfriend before his dad came along….the bio father, you know. And I know that your dad was killed on that day at the Pentagon.” Tony tilted his head. 9/11 wasn’t a secret at all. In fact, as much as Tony loved his father for as much as he knew him, there were times when he hated that connection; especially since he’d probably never live up to the expectations both his mom and dad had for him when he was born.
“Having two dads isn’t a bad thing, Miss Nichols,” Tony insisted.
“No it’s not…Tony? Please call me Sandy, okay?” It would be awkward enough after meeting her for only the second time to call her Momma or Mommy, and Sandy preferred to keep things lighthearted, especially with what she was about to share. He nodded and she paused, taking a deep breath.
“Jimmy will probably call your mom Rita. I’m sure we’ll sort all that stuff out, if that’s okay with you?” Tony’s eyes widened.
“Oh..I….I’m sorry…..I…..of course. I’m glad she found someone…..she really cares about you. You were looking at our pictures when she came in. She just….glowed.” Tony’s cheeks reddened. He knew his mom loved his dad, but he had never seen that expression on her face until this day.
“I know…I feel the same way about her. You never know how you’re going to feel about someone or something until you’re in the middle of it, you know?” Sandy said with a slight frown; she didn’t seem sad, but her tone sounded almost worried.
“Well….like I said…..your mom and I don’t….we can’t keep secrets, honey.” She stared at the boy and grew quiet. He looked in her eyes and she nodded ever so slightly.
“No! She didn’t tell you. She had no right. It’s not fair.” Shock turned to anger turned to sadness and then settled on unnecessary shame as Tony realized that his mother had broken a confidence on the only secret the boy had. He began to shake a bit and went to stand up. Sandy reached in and grabbed both of his hands.
“Honey…I had to know…for my sake and for yours. I know your mom didn’t want to tell me, but we all needed to know. Another part of how things get pushed together and speeded up in ways we hate but can’t control….Please don’t be angry with her.” Sandy looked up into his….her eyes, as her soon to be step-daughter emerged from hiding. The girl sat back down on the bed and fell into Sandy’s arms.
“It’s….I hate myself. I’ll never be what Daddy wanted me to be. I’m not a hero….I don’t even know what I am.” She sobbed into Sandy’s sweater. The woman pushed her back just a bit so they could see eye to eye.
“You can never be what anyone wants you to be, honey. You can only be who you are. I know that your father was a very brave and a very good man, and I’ll never replace him. But neither will you. He was just a man; a good man, yes, but just a man, sweetheart. Jimmy is not like his bio father at all, and is a pretty good young man, but not much like his dad. But I still love him. And your mom loves you.
And from what I know of Aldo? Your dad would love Helen if he got the chance to meet her. If you two had the chance to know each other? Well? You and me and your mom and Jimmy? We all have a chance to be a family, and I think that’s a good thing, don’t you?” Helen looked at Sandy and saw the same accepting expression his mother showed her every day. She nodded.
“Now, since we are all going to be a family, and since dinner is a very nice but very re-heatable Chicken Meniure, why don’t we sit here for a few minutes and maybe relax before we get you ready.” She pulled her close and kissed her on the cheek. The girl pulled away slightly.
“Ready?” She bit her lip slightly and wiped her face with her sleeve.
“I’m sure Helen has some clothes to wear, right? We need to get you ready so Jimmy can meet his new sister, right?” She beamed with an acceptance that only a mother, step or otherwise, can have for her child. Helen nodded before looking over at her closet. She turned back and the two put their heads together and giggled like school girls and exactly like they'd known each other all along.
Several years later...
Quad City Times Online –
Lt. James Nichols, Jr. and Helen Battaglia were united in Holy Matrimony at the United Church of Christ of Davenport, Iowa. James is the son of James Nichols, Sr. of Denver, Colorado. His mother is Cassandra Battaglia-Nichols, partner of the mother of the bride and step-mother of the groom, Margarita Battaglia-Nichols. Helen Battaglia is the daughter of the late Col. Aldo Battaglia, United States Air Force.
James graduated with honors from the United States Air Force Academy with a Bachelor of Science Degree and Master of Science Degree in Engineering. He is employed as a Pilot for the Air Force. Helen graduated cum laude with a Bachelor of Science Degree and a Master of Science Degree in Psychology from Iowa State University. She graduated with honors from the Culinary Institute of America in Singapore and is Chef de Cuisine at Exotic Thai Restaurant in Davenport, Iowa. After a wedding trip in the Canadian Rockies, the couple will reside in Davenport.
Exotic Thai Restaurant, Davenport, Iowa, Christmas Eve…several years later...
As much as Helen enjoyed her time as chef, finally owning and running the restaurant gave even more purpose to her; as if she didn’t have enough with degrees in Psychology and Social work to back up her cooking. She smiled as her manager handed her a copy of the new menu. Traditional Thai and Vietnamese, which had been less of a challenge than she expected when she first started, but now with a great new Chef de Cuisine, she could concentrate on other aspects of the restaurant. Nom was more than personable and probably even more capable as a chef than Helen ever hoped to be. She didn’t mind, since she had learned very early on with the help of a great mother and terrific step-mom that nothing would hold her back if she had faith.
She nodded and handed the menu back to Liu and pointed at the top.
“Green for the font for the restaurant, but everything else is just great.” She pulled the older woman in for a congratulatory hug. Liu smiled and nodded back before gathering the menu and some other papers.
“I’ll send this to the printers today.” With that she went to walk out, but two men were standing silently and almost patiently at the doorway of the dining area. She bowed her head slightly and smiled; causing the men to step further apart, allowing her to exit. The taller of the two men was an African-American; a vaguely familiar acquaintance to Helen, even if she did recognize the clothing. Blue with a silver bird on the shoulder. The other man was entirely familiar; he wore a gold-looking oak leaf on his shoulder and a grim expression on his face, which was puffy and red. Helen stared blankly at the second man, hoping it was all a mistake.
“Helen….There…there’s been an accident.” He struggled with the last word before putting his hand to his mouth to choke back a sob. The other man stepped forward and placed his hand on the younger man’s shoulder in reassurance over something that could never receive any assurance whatsoever. She tilted her head slightly and her eyes widened as she shook her head no.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am. I am so, so sorry.” The older of the two knew Jimmy Nichols as his instructor in flight school. The younger man, Maj. Jensen Davis had been….had? Tony and he had been best friends. And Lt. Colonel Louis Washington just shook his head; putting his hand once again on the younger man’s shoulder to steady him. And Helen trembled only slightly before she collapsed into the booth where she had stood, fainting dead away.
Helen’s apartment, Davenport, Iowa…some time later...
The few remaining boxes sat next to the front door. Precious memories and unfulfilled dreams carefully wrapped and packed for what was planned for a brief storage. Helen stood by the front window, gazing across the street at the park. She sighed at the sight of a mother watching her little girl kicking high on the swing. Sandy walked in the front door and put her hand on Helen’s shoulder and squeezed.
“You won’t change your mind?” Sandy knew the answer, but still wanted her daughter-in-law to know she cared enough to ask.
“I …. I need a change,” Helen turned and recalled the recently packed pictures from the mantel; vistas and home life and faces from a time only recently removed. To say Jimmy’s smile was infectious would have sold him short in a way, but nothing in that toothy grin would do anything now. He was handsome and sweet and kind and precious; the love of her life was gone. Since Rita’s passing, Sandy had become a close friend to her daughter in law, and as close to Helen as her mother had been. A double blessing. But Sandy had so little strength herself with Jimmy’s death. Still, she tried.
“Change… I guess it’s something good. I’m going to miss you,” Sandy said. It was like just another death in the family as Helen prepared for her move.
“It’s not forever….” She still struggled with speaking the endearment, but Sandy knew that she would always be “Momma;” their way of giving both her and Rita that honor after the two married. And it was still a way she could hold onto Jimmy after his death by keeping that connection between her and Sandy.
“But this…. This was your hope, Helen…” Sandy stared out the window as if the restaurant was right there. Perhaps staying in Iowa could still be a chance but the papers all had been signed and the restaurant was now the dream of a middle-aged couple from Amana.
“I just need some time where I can figure out …. I haven’t been just me forever. I grew up almost without a chance of being me, and Jimmy and me…. we were like one person. I’m ….I hate being alone but I have to figure out what that means… who I am in all of this.
“You’re who you’ve always been, honey. Remember that …. No matter how you started, you’ve always been Helen, right? Your Mom and I …we…I…” Sandy began to weep at the thought. Rita had been taken from them all by the selfish choice of a drunk driver. Tragic at best; even after five years, but then to lose her son? But didn’t Helen enjoy that horrible sameness. Losing her mother and her husband.
“I….I promise I’ll be back.” She hugged Sandy and turned to walk away but stopped.
“You…you helped me see who I was….that it was just right, Momma.” There. She had said it. Sandy raced to her side and pulled her into a hug.
“I was so scared then…even to be me with my Mom….but you helped me then by giving me hope. And I’m scared now, but I have hope that somehow it will all work out. It hurts so bad, Momma…..Oh god I miss them but…:
“I know, honey. I loved my son, but it feels like I miss Rita more…and I feel so guilty.” She looked at Helen for some sort of forgiveness. The girl shook her head, but not in denial, but instead in anxious agreement.
“It feels like it will never be the same, Momma. Why can’t it be the same?” They held each other and continued to cry. It indeed would never be the same. But often hope comes not in what is retrieved or preserved, but rather in what remains or what might come.
Portland City Grill, Portland, Oregon, about two years later….
“Helen? You okay? You seem a bit distracted,” the petite woman sidled up to Helen and gave her a hug. Helen winced. Being the daytime manager was challenging enough, but Lelani Soriano was aware of the moment. An anniversary no bride should ever have to commemorate.
“Oh, honey….I am so sorry,” Lelani half-frowned as Helen shook her head.
“It’s today, isn’t it?” Helen nodded. Her eyes were only a bit red, and she smiled weakly and nodded.
“Come sit down. Evening shift starts in a few and it’s really slow right now.” The kind woman ushered Helen to a table at the back near the kitchen. She kissed Helen’s cheek and walked over to the drink station. A few moments later she had returned with two cups of coffee. She placed a cup in front of Helen and sat down facing her.
“I’m doing better than I thought I would. I guess… I’m so sorry,” she spoke the words at Lelani, but they were intended for another.
“Oh, honey….” Lelani reached over and held Helen’s left hand in hers; fingering the wedding ring that remained on Helen’s hand.
“He knows….you can’t help how you feel. And he knows you miss him more than anything. From what you told me he would understand...really, honey.”
Lelani’s words, as needful and kind as they were, did nothing to stem the tears that began to pour down Helen’s cheeks. From guilt over a lack of emotion to an almost inescapable feeling of being out of control. Lelani looked around the near-empty dining room. Apart from a couple of young women at the front of the restaurant, the only company they had were the other servers and the new sous-chef. Lelani got up and walked around the table. Sitting down next to Helen, she pulled her into a motherly hug; stroking her hair.
“I should have…I forgot, Nanay…. How could I forget?” Grief is hard enough to bear under the best of circumstances, but with everything else going on in Helen’s life, the last thing she needed to feel was guilt.
“He knows, babae, he knows.”
“But what about….”
“What about what?” A voice came from over her shoulder. Vilma Soriano stood next to her mother and placed her hand lightly on Helen’s shoulder.
“Nanay is right, sinta…. “She nodded at her mother and continued.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of. I will never be able to….” Helen looked up at Vilma and nodded slowly; not at the thought of replacing Jimmy, but of knowing Vilma would understand how she needed to stay connected to Jimmy’s memory while moving on. Vilma smiled and continued.
“You take as much time as you need….forever even, if that’s the way it will be, but I’m here for you whenever you’re ready. God bless Jimmy Nichols, sinta….” Vilma kissed her on the cheek and walked away quickly.
“Nanay? I’m so sorry….I had hoped…maybe it’s too soon? ” She apologized for something entirely unintentional, as if she had invited grief to hang on and interrupt her life. Lelani just continued to stroke her hair.
“Shhh….shhhh…..” The older woman whispered even as she looked back over her shoulder in time to see her daughter wave. As kind and unobtrusive as Vilma wished to be, she was not going to give up on Helen, no matter what or who might stand between them. If grief was willing to hang around, Vilma was willing to be even more patient; that idea that patience really means ‘far from anger.’ She wasn’t angry at all but sad instead for the hurt that Helen bore.
Helen’s place, Grace Apartments, Portland….
Helen hadn’t even made it to bed after work, and had fallen asleep on the couch. The soft, toned-down strains of Lara Fabian came from the tablet next to her head; the only other sound being the soothing purr of the small cat who mimicked Helen’s sleep with her own.
“Helen?” A voice spoke; the whisper still seemed to cut through ever other sound. And another voice.
“Honey?” Helen sat up enough to prop herself with her right elbow. Two figures seemed to fill her vision though no one was there. She heard the voices; joined almost as one repeat her name. She shook her head.
“Jimmy?” She heard no other sound other than the purr from the cat; louder still than moments before.
“Mommy?” Instead of a voice, she almost felt their presence, though she still saw nothing. But in a moment, a peace she had sought for so long, even from many years before, filled her heart, and while she heard no other words, she still heard two words in her heart; spoken in unison in a visitation, perhaps, but really in a dream of her own making and need....and hope.
“It’s time.”
Two years later…Portland State University….
“I’m so proud of you!” Sandy leaned closer and kissed her daughter –in-law on the cheek. She was soon joined by two petite Filipinas. Lelani Soriano beamed with pride over the woman who stood tall; cap and gown and honors and awards aside, she was proud of Helen for so many more reasons but mostly for one great one. She hugged both Sandy and Helen as her hand reached out to pull her daughter close. Vilma Soriano stepped up to the three women and as much as she could, embraced them all. A moment later she held Helen in her arms; echoing what was said only moments before.
“I’m so proud of you!” Helen looked at her and smiled.
“Are…are you glad you waited?” Helen said nervously. Vilma smiled through tears and nodded, using her gaze to indicate two rings on her left hand.
“I certainly am, Dr. Nichols…. I certainly am!”
Camden, New Jersey....in an alleyway after midnight...
“You seem like a sweet kid,” the guy said as he pulled up his trousers.
“Here’s another buck.” The guy laughed and dropped the dollar bill on the pavement next to the girl. She looked up to see him walk away, still laughing to himself. She quickly gathered up the dollar and placed in her bra along with the twenty in her hand. She stood up and brushed the dust and gravel off her knees, only to find a huge tear in her pantyhose. She cursed herself under her breath for not wearing the fishnets as she started to walk out of the alley. In a moment, another man blocked her way.
“Hey, baby,” the man said with a voice that sounded like molasses dripping on his shoes.
“Where you goin’ with my money?” He grabbed her wrist and pulled the gold lame’ clutch out of her hands. Pushing her back and away from the alley entrance, he pinned her against a wall with his body as he went through the bag.
“What the fuck, you little cocksucker, where the fuck is my money?” He asked in almost a sing-song voice; the tone was condescending instead of angry, as if humor would do just as well as rage.
She trembled and bit her lip, trying not to cry and seem even weaker than she was. Her eyes glanced quickly downward and she could only hope that quick look didn’t betray her, but between her glance and his street-savvy, he was already reaching under her bra. Pulling out a thick wad of bills, he looked at her with an almost fatherly face, but his voice grew cold and angry.
“Now you weren’t going to stiff me, were you, darlin’? Man, now I know why you look like you gained a fuckin' cup size, kid!” He laughed at the pun as he grabbed her crotch and squeezed tight.
“There’s that little fella you need to show off more, babe!” His grip grew tighter, causing her to moan; she didn’t want to respond, but there it was.
“I got an idea? I’ll take this,” he said with a harsh laugh, “and put it toward your fund, okay, kid?” The girl turned her head, ashamed of her reaction as he continued,
“Oh wait….Junior here doesn’t seem to want to go bye-bye just yet,” he said as he squeezed her again.
“I’ll let you keep this,” he said producing two twenties.
“No, please….” the girl cried as he put her money in his jacket pocket.
“Well, getting’ some spunk to go along with Junior here….sorry, but you gotta understand, kid. If I let you off, I gotta let them all off, and there goes my business.” He held the twenties at arm’s-length, almost daring her to reach for it, which she did. He rudely shoved her to the ground and began to open his fly.
“Let’s see just how good you are,” he said. The girl began to sob, but knelt just the same; just one more act in a series of acts that slowly killed her inside. After it was done, the man laughed and threw the money at her feet. He pulled another twenty out of his pocket and lifted her chin rudely with his hand.
“You can’t say I’m not a generous man, kid.” He thrust the twenty under her bra and walked away, leaving the girl to sit awkwardly on the pavement, sobbing from every bad emotion known; guilt, shame, anger, sadness, hopelessness, fear….and despair.
Camden, New Jersey....a few nights later...
The police cruiser was parked at the end of the alley, and two figures walked up and down, pointing their flashlights around. Someone had called in a complaint about screaming in the alley behind the restaurant.
“Hey, Brooksie? C’mere. Aw fuck....Looks like another dead trannie….kid by the looks of her.” The cop pointed to the body partially covered in snow. His partner came over and knelt down.
“Too bad. Fucking shame about these kids, you know? Family most likely kicked the kid out because of this, and look what they’ve gotten for it. Fuck, I hate this job.” Melanie Brooks was about to stand up when she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye. A moment later the girl’s groan caused her to spring to action. She leaned closer and found the girl breathing and with a pulse.
“Jimmy, get me the blanket out of the trunk and call the bus, okay?” The other cop was already running back to the cruiser. A moment later the girl was swathed in the blanket.
“It’s okay, honey….we’re gonna get you to the hospital. Bus is on the way…it won’t be long.”
“Hurts….”
“I know, kid….They’re almost here.” Jimmy said, squeezing the girl’s shoulder.
“He….here…..hurts…..” The girl made an effort to point to her stomach and her hand fell back onto the ground. Melanie pulled back the waterlogged sweater and lifted her dark red satin blouse; not necessarily a great fashion choice, but one that really hid blood well.
“Oh fuck, she’s been stabbed….god dammit!” Melanie shouted as she pulled gauze out of the first aid kit.
“Gotta keep pressure on this; phone them again and say she’s got a ….” The sound of a siren/horn blast and the colored lights dancing on the alley wall in front of her let Melanie know that help had arrived. A moment later the EMT’s were kneeling down, working their magic.
“Let me know how this one turns out, Cassie, okay?” The smaller of the two women at the back of the gurney nodded.
“You got it….tell Mommy I’m eating over at Kevin’s tonight, okay? I’ll keep an eye on this one.” Melanie nodded back at her sister as they got the girl into the ambulance. As the doors closed, she shouted,
“Oh shit…she’s coding.” Melanie stared at the ambulance as it pulled away, shaking her head.
“Fuck, Fuck….dammit….not another…please dear god, not another!” Jimmy came over and put his arm on her shoulder. She went to pull away, but he would have nothing of that.
“You can’t save ‘em all, Mel….you just can’t.” She flinched again as he patted her back.
“You don’t understand….fuck….I’d settle for just one, but this one? I don’t know why, but somehow I feel this is personal!” Melanie shrugged her shoulders and patted Jimmy’s arm in thanks before she walked back to the cruiser.
“Any more water left back there?” Melanie said as they pulled away. Jimmy looked in the back seat and then shook his head no.”
“Damn…..I’m so fucking thirsty….why am I so thirsty.” She said as her shoulders started to shake. She pulled the cruiser over a block away and rested her head on the steering wheel.
“Slide over,” he said as he got out of the car.
“It’s past our shift, and I’m takin’ you to the diner to get something in you and then you’re goin’ home!” He hopped in the driver’s seat and called dispatch before pulling out once again onto the busy street.
“I just wish the kid had a chance….just a chance is all, you know?” Melanie said as she fought back tears.
“Me, too, Mel, me too!" Jimmy said before turning his attention to the road ahead, fairly confident he had hid his tears from his partner.
Twelve thousand miles away from your smile
I’m twelve thousand miles away from me
Standing on the corner of Brunswick
Got the rain coming down and mascara on my cheek
Oh write me a beacon so I know the way
Guide my love through night and through day
In the ambulance on the way to Our Lady of Lourdes Medical Center...
"She's back," Cassie said with a very heavy but relieved sigh. The girl lay on the gurney, almost motionless but her eye lids fluttered and her vitals were okay.
"Thank God for another miracle," her partner said as he wiped his forehead just before hitting it against a bulkhead as the ambulance swerved to avoid a dog that had strayed into the street. A moment later the girl moved her hand in a weak wave as Cassie leaned over her.
"It's okay, darlin'; we got you....you're gonna be just fine!" The girl motioned for Cassie to come closer. As she tried to speak, Cassie put her ear next to the facemask. The words were nearly garbled, but she made out a few of them....
Many months before....
Crow fly be my alibi
And return this fable to your wing
Take it far away to where gypsies play
Beneath metal stars by the bridge
Jason sat on edge of the steel guard rail of the bridge; the fall was enough to ensure that he wouldn’t survive, and he was convinced once again that it was the thing to do. Life wasn’t about living; it never had seemed to be to begin with, and nothing was further from real living than his own.
He had sat there times before, and this time was no different than any other. He looked down at the rocks below, barely covered by the nearly dried up stream. Easy enough to jump, but moving off the safety of the railing was the hard part; stuck every time feeling more cowardly and condemned at the same time each time he faced the decision. He hit his head in frustration as he climbed down off the railing and started walking back to his house, the words from his own heart condemning him.
“You’re a coward!” Almost ringing in his ears though soundless, they intensified as he approached the front porch
“Fucking coward. You’re useless!” The inner shouting drowned out all of the good things his mother had told him.
“You’re my precious gift, Jay….never forget that!” The last words his mother shared with him before she passed. Gems buried beneath refuse so putrid and disgusting that he couldn’t overcome the overwhelming stench of accusations and insults his own heart heaped upon him.
“Fucking faggot….” Something his Uncle said even as he raped the child; as if somehow he was exempt from all the hatred the boy would inevitably endure, but that’s denial for you. And Jason’s heart was so hurt and betrayed and bent inward that he actually cried over the loss of his favorite ‘uncle’ when the man finally did everyone a favor and died.
“You’re sick, Jay. We just need to find the right doctor for you,” his father had said. No harsh words or beatings; no condemnation, just a benign combination of ignorance and neglect. No attempt to understand, but a whirlwind of caring driven by misconceptions as his father dragged him from doctor to doctor to doctor, looking for a cure for his son’s ‘ailment.’
“Sir, you don’t seem to grasp what I’ve said. There’s nothing ‘wrong’ with your son. He has a condition he was born with that we can help with….there are specialists and counselors and support groups to see that he can be….”
“Don’t tell me that. I have a son. I don’t have a daughter….” Again the beneficence overcoming reality as the man refused to hear the truth.
“You’re worthless….he’ll never love you.” Words his heart reverberated daily as the truth seemed to be buried under that refuse….he could hardly even remember what his mother had told him. The child was tired; too many false hopes built upon a shaky foundation. His father cared, but too much and in the wrong way, even though he meant well. When his father displayed love, it was mostly unconditional, but he still demanded that his son be healthy, and to him, healthy meant putting away the only part of him that truly mattered.
“I don’t care what your friends say, Dr. Sullivan says you just need some help to focus and get back to where you’re supposed to be.” His father smiled but shook his head the only time he was brave enough to bring his best friend to visit. Lauren.
“Your name is Jason, son. Please stop this nonsense. Just take your meds, please?” Jason remembered how much his father’s words had hurt Lauren. Between being unable to end the pain and being forced to endure Lauren’s exile, the boy finally just couldn’t take it any longer. By the time they reached Philadelphia, Jason basically had retreated into whatever solace and solitude he could manage, and Lauren took over…
Our Lady Of Lourdes Medical Center Critical Care Unit, Camden, New Jersey....the present...
“You’re okay now, honey,” the nurse said with a very thick Nigerian accent.
“It was touch and go, like they say until yesterday morning. But you’ll be okay. And someone is here to see you, okay?” She smiled and stepped out a moment later two police officers entered.
“What…what the fuck do you want,” the girl said with a tone mixed equally with defiance and fear.
“Easy, honey! We just wanted to see how you’re doing. You gave us a really big scare,” Jimmy said as he took off his hat and laid it on the chair off to the side. Brooksie’s been up all night praying.” He pointed to Melanie, who shrugged her shoulders, as if it was nothing.
“I’m not going back!” The girl shook her head and turned away from them. Melanie walked around to the other side of the bed.
“No one said anything about going anywhere, kid. We’re just glad you’re alive.” She smiled but girl’s eyes filled with tears.
“Well, I’m not. You should have just left me there. I don’t deserve to live.” She stammered and began coughing. Her monitor started beeping and the nurse came in a moment later.
“What’s going on here?” She said it to no one, but quickly examined the girl.
“Looks like your IV just popped out. One moment, baby.” She turned to Jimmy and Melanie.
“I think she’s still a bit disoriented, and maybe needs a bit more time. Why don’t you try tomorrow?
Melanie nodded and they left.
“She still getting to you?” Jimmy said as they pulled out of the parking lot. Melanie put her head up against the side window but turned back and nodded.
“She’s just like Chelsea…..exactly like her….right down to the pout.” Melanie imitated the expression and sighed.
“Oh, shit, Mel….don’t go there. You can’t….” Jimmy turned his attention back to the road.
“I fucking swear to god I will not let this kid down.” Her body shook a bit and she bit her tongue.
“My God, Mel….you didn’t let her down….you did everything you could….she just didn’t want to live. There was nothing you could have done.”
“If you want to help her, fine, but you can’t control her. You have to let her go. And you have to let Chelsea go….it’s been time already for too long, hon.” Melanie shook her head.
“Last time I looked, you were flesh and blood, just the same as me!” He meant it as a joke, but she didn’t laugh.
“You don’t understand, Jimmy….you can’t understand. I held her….in my arms…her last breath against my ear as she tried to speak. You can’t know.”
“Listen….just because I can’t know doesn’t mean I don’t want to or that I don’t care.” He snapped at her, more out of frustration than anger, but she heard him, surprisingly, and put her head down.
“I know. She meant a lot to you….I’m sorry. I’m just so scared, Jim….like it’ll happen all over again.”
“Not if WE can help it, okay?”
The next day…
“Hey, sis,” Melanie said as they walked into the Critical Care Unit. Cassie Brooks stood at the nurse's station. She smiled and walked up and hugged Melanie.
“She’s doing much better physically but the newbie social worker got her a bit worked up when she asked about the girl’s parents.
“A runaway isn’t gonna volunteer anything, and if she’s not on some registry, they may end up putting her in foster care, which would really suck. I can’t see her staying put, especially if the foster family won’t help her stay in girl mode. Shit!”
“What the fuck do you want?” The girl snapped at them as they entered the room.
“Okay, sweetheart, listen and listen good. I’m not going to spend a whole lot of time holding your hand and nursing you through this while you're swearing at me. I can get you back just as good, but that would waste both our times. My partner and I want to see you do okay, and we’re going to push back just as hard as you do until you realize just how much we care. You hang in here and I’ll see what I can do, okay?” The girl pouted angrily and began to say something until Jimmy said calmly,
“What’s your name?” Not like an interrogation, but an honest-to-god-I care question that caught the girl unprepared. She stammered, “Lauren,” before putting her head down.
“Well, Lauren? We’re here because we care, and also because I think we can do something for you if you’ll promise to do something for us, okay.” The girl was fighting back tears as her bravado had completely disappeared.
“Wh…wha?” She sniffled. Jimmy grabbed the tissue off the table and handed her the packet. She blew her nose and shrugged, her head displaying a tremor.
“I think I’ve got a family that works with Protective Services that might have room in their home for you, but I need you to promise me you won’t try to hurt yourself. “ The girl almost began to argue, but the short sleeves on the hospital gown exposed old thick scars across her left wrist and long thin new scars that ran along the length of her forearm. She gazed at her arm before looking up to see Jimmy’s welcoming face.
“I know about cutting, honey,” he said softly. “We’re talking about the scar across your wrist. None of that…you’re much too important. “ She shook her head in disagreement before Melanie grabbed her hand and patted it.
“Trust me on this, kid. Jimmy Muldoon doesn’t care about anything more than the Eagles and one other thing, and that’s kids. You listen to him, okay. We care about you, and we’re gonna see this through with you. When I was your age, I had someone just as special as Jimmy say the same thing, and I’m here today because of her. Listen to us….okay?”
Thankfully, for once in the girl’s brief life, being exhausted and stretched beyond her means was actually a good thing, and she relented, pulling Melanie close as she laid her head on Melanie’s arm and wept
“It’s okay, kid…we got your back. Go ahead and let it out,” Jimmy said almost unnecessarily as the girl sobbed.
“You know, I’m glad we can help. This is sort of a second chance for me,” Melanie began to say, but she looked over at Jimmy, who was kind enough not to chide her. She continued,
“This a second chance for Jimmy and me in a way, and I hope it is a second chance for you, okay?”
“I can’t think of anyone who could take better care of you than the family you’ll be living with. The oldest sister is getting married in two weeks and is moving out tomorrow. You get to share a bedroom with her sister, okay?” Melanie smiled and the girl pouted, but out of worry instead of anger.
“But what about….me….what if they find out about me?” The girl looked down at her body.
“They know all about you, kid.” Jimmy smiled as if he was keeping a big secret about a surprise party or a fancy gift. Melanie stepped closer to the girl and smiled with a broad grin.
“The mother has experience taking care of foster kids; maybe the best rep in the whole system. She’s got two daughters, like I said. A son who is serving in the Coast Guard, and a foster son who graduated college last spring and now is going to Villanova for his masters. They all are aware of your circumstance, and know why you need special understanding. But see…that’s the thing….to them, it isn’t special.”
“Yeah, kid….to them it comes natural, you know?” Lauren’s eyes widened in surprise as Melanie patted her chest.”
“I don’t share this often; most people who ask don’t deserve an answer and those that don’t ask don’t need one. My name is Melanie Elaine Brookes. My sister Cassie you’ve met, right? My brother Dave is a helicopter pilot for the Coast Guard out of Cape Cod and my brother is a first year intern at UMDNJ in Newark.” The girl tilted her head a bit and half-grinned.
“I’m coming to live with you? But…”
“It’s okay, Lauren My mom knows you’re trans….nobody cares….it’s okay.” The girl started to smile and then got a puzzled look on her face once more.
“But you said if people don’t know your name, they don’t deserve an answer? I don’t understand!”
“If they don’t know the name she used to go by,” Jimmy said quietly. Lauren looked at him and back at Melanie once again.
“My name was Peter Joseph Brookes. Before I transitioned.” She said it as if she were describing the color of their kitchen or what car her mother drove. Lauren shook her head, wanting so hard not to fall for a false hope once again.
“Now…when you’re ready, and only if and when you’re ready, my Mom would like to know your old name….and where you came from.” The girl started to shake her head.
“Shhh..shhh.” Jimmy put his hand on her arm softly.
“Cassie told me that when they brought you back after you coded in the ambulance, you kept calling for your mom and your dad.” Even as Melanie spoke, the girl’s eyes filled with tears and she began to tremble, ever so slightly.
“My….Mom died three years ago…Dad….Dad? I was calling for my Dad?” Jimmy nodded.
“You’ve probably got some unfinished business with him, and by the look on your face, I don’t think all of it is bad, do you?” She was unable to speak, and just nodded.
“Okay, like I said, when you’re ready,” Melanie intentionally left off ‘if’ and continued, Mom…everyone who knows her calls her Mom….and you can get in touch with your Dad….maybe invite him here for visit, but you don’t have to go anywhere you don’t want to, okay?”
“Oh….oh…” She bit her lip and Melanie stepped closer, pulling her into a long embrace. She put her head on Melanie’s shoulders and wept as the woman stroked her hair.
“I know, honey. It’s okay….I know.” She looked over at Jimmy who smiled and mouthed without sound,
“That’s for Chelsea! And you!”
“And you,” Melanie said aloud.
“Okay, kid, let’s get you packed.
The Brookes home a few years later...
“You look just great, honey. I am so proud of you!” Alice Brookes stood back and raised her camera; the whole family was home for the graduation party. After the group shot, the young lady took off her cap and gown, revealing a nice mint green sleeveless shift with a white jacket. The tall man to her left was wearing a blue uniform; Camden City Police, as was the woman to the right of the girl.
“Thanks, Mom.” She turned to the left and right, quickly kissing Jimmy and Melanie.
“Now, let’s see that beautiful smile we love so much,” Alice said, and Lauren Margaret Pavlachek beamed from ear to ear, as did Jimmy and Melanie….Muldoon.
Only the sunset knows my blind desire for the fleeting
Only the moon understands the beauty of love
When held by a hand like the aura of nostalgia
Norfolk, Virginia, week of July Fourth…years later…
“Who thinks it’s a good idea to hurt girls?” Lauren lowered her head slightly. The question always invited more than a variety of answers; some of them quite profane and very telling. One boy raised his hand timidly but was ignored in effect by the loud shouts from the other boys in the group.
“'Depends on who’s doin’ the hurtin’,” one boy laughed and fist-bumped the kid next to him. Another placed his hand on his crotch and gyrated slightly in his seat. Mr. Rollo rolled up the notes in his hand and swatted the boy in the back of the head.
“Okay.” Lauren took a deep breath. Twelve year old boys had no business being stuck in a treatment facility, much less juvie, but behavior dictates how we are received, and these boys were as incorrigible as they came; not the marginally bratty ‘incorrigible’ of the von Trapp boy in the Sound of Music, but mean and unforgiving and downright dangerous on occasion.
“Any of you have a sister?” Several boys raised their hands; almost looking proud of something other than their own existence.
“You have Aunties?” Nods and more hands. The boy on the side still hadn’t lowered his hand, but just waved it from side to side.
“What about you, Theus? You have an Aunt?” The boy nodded.
“And Moms? I know some of you don’t have Moms, and I’m sorry, but some of you do, right?” Rollo leaned back and smiled and nodded; he knew where Lauren was going with this.
“Yeah” and “Fuck, yeah!” It didn’t matter, like some might expect, which neighborhood they called home. No matter what color or what language. All of the boys were hardened for the most part beyond their tender years. No baseball or football in middle school. No skateboarding or video games save for the six-year-old Playstation in the unit lounge. Even that was a sad testimony as it was surrounded by clear Plexiglas for protection. The shouts died down.
“Well, we have boys who have girls in their lives, Mr. Rollo.” Several of them looked at her like she had two heads, as the old saying goes. Rollo suppressed a laugh.
“Okay, guys. This is easy. How many of you would get pissed off if someone hurt your sister or your Auntie or your Mom?”
“I’d kill the motherfucker!” Chris said it sullenly, unlike his usual boisterous bravado. An underlying and ever-present current of anger seemed to move him along daily. This wasn’t his usual self talking, but a boy hurt by countless disappointments and harm.
“Fuck that. I’d kill em’ and use magic to bring em’ back to life….” Danny looked around and paused for effect.
“Then I’d kill em’ again.”
“What the fuck? There’s no such thing as magic,” one boy said; evoking a punch in the arm from the kid next to him.
“So….it’s okay for you to hurt girls, but it’s not okay for anyone else, right?”
“Hell, yeah.”
“What does that mean, guys? What am I asking you?” They knew she knew, and they all resisted the temptation to laugh and joke about how she didn’t know what she was doing.
“I don’t give a fuck!” Chris turned his face to the wall and closed his eyes. Usually the one to shout out obscenities that would make a sailor blush, he just tuned everything out and in moments appeared to be sleeping.
“Miss Lauren?” The boy who had been holding his hand up waved it slightly; his voice, as slight as it was, carried across the lounge when the group calmed down.
“Yes, Davey?” She leaned forward to focus.
“Man…shut the fuck up,” another boy shouted, earning a swat in the head from Rollo. He glared at the boy and he slumped in his chair and quieted down. Davey spoke.
“I think it means like when you know how someone else feels.”
“Dude, would you just shut the fuck up?” Chris murmured from his nap.
“That’s right. We want to be respected and to have our friends and family okay, but what does it say if we can’t do the same thing for others?” Rollo looked over the group. Other than Chris and the boy who slumped in his chair in a sullen pout, all the other boys….seven of them…stared at Lauren in wide-eyed recognition. It was a daunting task to reach the boys. And these were the ones with promise. Picked specifically for the unit because they had some glimmer of empathy lying underneath the angry surface.
“Yeah…” and “Oh shit…yeah, I guess.” A tallish woman appeared in the doorway.
“Hi, Miss Tanika!” Lauren said.
“Miss Martina is ready for them in the gym,” she said, causing most of the boys to jump up from their slouches.
“Hold it!”
She stood in the lounge doorway. “Everybody out in line and no poking or hitting, okay? I’ll stay here with Davey and Chris and Mr. Rollo will take you guys over.” The boys did as much as they could to obey the instructions; only a bit of poking and no hitting at all. Winston looked up and shook his head. Most of the time a unit restriction would have brought angry outbursts. He was improving, however slowly. Davey’s behavior hadn’t been sudden and acute, but he was consistently failing to follow the simplest of directions without argument or downright refusal. He rose slowly and walked over, sitting next to Lauren as the other boys walked off the unit to gym.
“Miss Lauren?” His voice, even in a near empty room, seemed to be almost a whisper. She turned and faced him, noting that he was staring at her. While boys of that age might think staring was flattery, and that Davey might be just such a boy, Lauren noticed an almost fear in the boys eyes.
“Yes, Davey?” He lowered his head at her words; appearing ashamed of a mere question, but he continued, much like someone might run through a small fire to get out of a burning house. He lifted his face once again and she was sure there was more than just fear; that hopeless look she had seen countless times since she started working with kids. He bit his lip and spoke.
“Miss Lauren….I got….can we talk?” She nodded and rose.
“Let’s go to my office, okay?” The boy’s fear seemed to abate and grow at the same time; talking about things can do that to a child. He swallowed hard and walked out into the hallway, not waiting for her. She stepped out of the lounge and watched him as he went down the hall; looking all the world like a dead boy walking.
“Oh, gosh, Davey, we can’t go in my office with two of you on the unit.” Lauren looked around and Tanika waved.
“We’ll take Chris with us, Miss Lauren. Mr. Paul said he’s off restriction.” She paused and turned toward the boy.
“You’re gonna do what Miss Melanie says or there’s no outing for you tonight.” The boy glared at her but his frown was quickly replaced by a smile; his compliance perhaps a bit contrived but still workable since he was at least willing to fake it until he made it, so to speak.
“We’ll be going right to lunch after rec, Miss Lauren. You can bring Davey over to the caf or to rec if you like?”
“I guess we’ll play it by ear. Thanks, Miss Tanika. You’re the best.” Lauren always made a point to build up the residential staff. Many of the men and women working at the program were ‘enjoying additional employment elsewhere,’ as HR would put it. Sacrificial for many of them since the place hardly paid but expected almost Herculean sacrifice. And many of the staff had experienced so many of the hurts and disappointments as their charges, but had overcome the struggles that faced the boys on the unit.
“K, Miss Lauren. Thanks!”
Tanika often suffered the slings and arrows of words that would make a sailor blush. She was a very diligent woman who was working on her degree; fitting her classes into holes in her work schedule and supporting her mother and sister as well. Apart from the city and the family background, she and Lauren likely shared many of the same horrors in childhood as well; save for the gender issues that had nearly torn Lauren in two. Tanika was such a stalwart support to Lauren that the young woman gained the trust of the older and knew what Lauren had experienced years ago.
Apart from Miss Tanika and Miss Jenn; the therapist on the Adolescent unit, and Dr. Roberto, no one knew about Lauren’s past. Not so much a secret as a decision to keep her own things private. As much as Dr. Roberto had become a mentor to Lauren, she had also become to a few of the residential staff, but most notably as a good friend to Miss Tanika.
“You gonna be okay?” She said to Davey as she stood by the exit. Chris had run down the hall to get his jacket. Davey smiled nervously and nodded. While she would never share a word of what Lauren had told her, that knowledge helped her understand and encourage Davey to open up to Lauren.
“See you at the caf.” Tanika placed her hand on Winston’s back as he hurried to the door way.
“Okay, little man, let’s go.”
“Can we talk out here?” Davey asked nervously.
“Sure. We’re alone, so no problem.”
“If I tell you a secret, will you promise not to tell anyone?” The boy put his head down.
“Well, Davey? You know that I talk to Dr. Roberto and Dr. John when I need help in helping you and the other boys, right?” Davey nodded and spoke in a near whisper.
“No…I mean…you won’t tell them, right?”
“Oh, no, Davey. Nothing you say….I don’t talk to anyone besides Dr. Roberto and Dr. John.” She paused.
“And Miss Tanika?”
“Only if you say it’s okay. And Miss Jenn upstairs. She’s going to work with you when you go up there next week, right? Would you like her to be here, too?” The boy shook his head.
“Not yet, okay?”
“Sure…whatever you want. We can talk to her later if you like….maybe at your staffing this afternoon?" The boy nodded once again. He took a big breath; the look on his face was almost one of sheer dread.
“No matter what you tell me, you’re okay. You’re doing very well since that problem last month, and I think things will work out just fine when you get to the Adolescent unit.”
“I….I….” The boy’s eyes quickly filled with tears and he put his head down.
“You’re okay, Davey. Take another breath and talk when you’re ready. I’m here for you.” The boy did exactly that and a few moments later whispered once again. The wide corridor seemed to echo and amplify his words.
“I’m scared….”
“What scares you, Davey?”
“I’m really scared….” His voice trailed off and he looked away, but the glimpse that Lauren did catch showed that the boy was almost terrified.
“Something really bad scares you? I bet you’ve wanted to tell someone for a while, huh?”
“I told Miss Tanika an she said to tell you,” the boy blushed; turning his dark complexion almost magenta.
“I’m glad you trust Miss Tanika. It’s good to know you can trust someone. And I’m very glad you trust me. Can you tell me what you told her?” The boy nodded.
“Oh….okay.” The boy nodded even as the tears continued to fall. Lauren waited as the boy regrouped. A moment later he looked up and spoke.
“I think I’m…. I think I’m a….” Lauren had no way of knowing what the boy would say, but the look on his face was so very familiar; a look she had displayed long ago to some very kind people who sought to understand. And she knew exactly what was going to come next. Like a lawyer, sometimes it’s good to know the answer to the question you intend to ask. And Lauren knew, even if the boy would struggle with the word. She nodded and smiled a warm, welcoming smile…..
“I’m afraid.” The word was different but the dread was the same; the shame and guilt and confusion mixed all together in the same manner it had been for Lauren all those years ago. He was afraid, but would find out sometime soon that his fears would be held as valuable as any emotion he might express. And he’d find out that a burden shared is a burden halved.
“I know you’re afraid, Davey. I’ve been afraid in my life. We all get afraid sometimes, so I think I can understand.” He looked at her and the warm smile seemed to gently pull the needful words out of the boy over the next hour. After a while, Lauren put her hand up in gentle caution.
“Let me make a quick call, okay?” The boy nodded reluctantly and bit his lip. Lauren picked up the phone and dialed.
“Miss Melanie? Would you mind asking Miss Tanika to pick up a couple of lunches? Oh, no problem. We’re okay, but we need some time. Oh, yes. And a coffee? Thanks.” She hung up the phone and turned to Davey again.
“Now, we’re going to talk some more, okay? But I need to talk with Dr. Roberto and Miss Jenn before your staffing later. And I think we’ll need to talk with your Mom at some point, but we don’t have to hurry.” She noticed the look of fear return to the boy’s face.
“I know this is hard, but the hardest part is over because now you won’t have to hide…at least with me and Miss Tanika. But I think you’re very smart to keep this a secret to the guys on the unit. And we’ll make sure that you’re in the right place for you. I know it won’t be easy, but I know someone in Arlington that can help you better than I can, since she knows exactly what you’re going through.” The boy’s eyes widened and he shook his head no.
“Oh, don’t worry. I won’t tell her anything. She can come visit you here and you can tell her what you want or not at all. We can meet with Dr. Roberto and Miss Jenn and her and find just the right way to help you, okay?” The boy nodded nervously and sighed.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course, Davey.”
“Two questions?” Lauren smiled and nodded.
“Why did God make me this way?” The boy bit his lip again as the tears began to fall. Lauren would never presume to speak regarding her own faith, and certainly had discovered long ago that the question was almost one for which she had no answer anyway, so she smiled once again and spoke.
“I don’t know, Davey. There are times when I ask myself the same question. I bet everyone does, you know? But you’re okay either way, right?” The boy nodded reluctantly once again and then paused in thought.
“What else did you want to ask?”
“If it’s okay, could you ….?” He looked down at himself in almost an examining posture.
“I mean…would you….I mean in your office?”
“In my office? Yes?”
“When we meet in your office? Could you not call me Davey?” Lauren resisted the urge to smile; nodding instead in welcome ‘permission.’ The boy sighed in relief.
“Could you call me …I don’t know….” His eyes teared up in embarrassment.’
“You don’t have one yet….Maybe you and Miss Jenn and I can talk about this afternoon. No hurry, Dav…sorry….” She smiled and the boy sighed once again; this time in relief.
“My mom’s sister….my Auntie…her name is Audra.”
“Okay….Audra?” The boy nodded nervously; the vestiges of shame still holding on. Lauren smiled.
“Okay…Audra it is.” A few minutes of nervous silence passed before the boisterous shouting of the other boys could be heard from outside the unit. Lauren put her finger to her lips and spoke even as the clack of the door latch echoed down the hallway.
“Our secret, okay?” The boy half-smiled and mimicked her gesture with a finger to his lips.
“Hey….you on close watch?” One of the boys shouted. Davey stood up and went to protest but Lauren put her hand up in caution while directing her attention to the line of boys marching onto the unit.
“We were just talking about school and stuff, right Davey?” The boy looked at her in confusion until she winked; her expression hidden by Davey’s body.
“Oh yeah….Mr. Okifor and me are gonna work on Math.”
“Stupid!” Chris said as he walked by the pair.
“Just fuckin’ stupid.” He laughed at his own joke and disappeared through the door to his room.
“Thanks, Miss Lauren,” Davey said. He turned to find Mr. Rollo redirecting Stevie after a quick shove from another boy. And Miss Tanika stood with arms folded; not in boredom or expectation but in calm assurance as she nodded to Davey and Lauren as she placed two Styrofoam containers and two cups on the table before walking down the hallway. A few minutes later Lauren was back in her office and on the phone.
“Niecy? Yes… It’s great to talk to you as well. Say, do you have any time this week to come down here…Friday? That’s perfect. Yeah. Any openings? You do? Great. See you on Friday.” Lauren hung the phone up and looked out her office window at the open square between the surrounding units. It had begun to rain. And she smiled.
I look up and I look down
I take my shoes off to be closer to the ground
I can think of many ways
To screw up all these perfect days
But I am feeling bold and brave
I think I'll just feel good today
Somehow in this twisted world I'm really doing fine
AllSports Medicine, West Caldwell, New Jersey....
Jeremy walked up to the counter. At six-one, he was hardly anyone that would be overlooked, but he had grown accustomed to being ignored. He heard a slight rustle to his left and he turned to find a young lady of about twenty-three or so holding a clipboard tight to her chest. Her smile was only just a bit less sweet than her voice.
“Mr. Isaaksen? Hello, I’m Dagmara; I’ll be doing your massage today.” Kind enough, it meant little to Jeremy which of the therapists would be doing the massage since he had never had a massage in his life. She put out her hand and shook it vigorously, which might have looked odd since she was nearly a foot shorter than him. He didn’t weigh much more than her; at least that’s the way it seemed. He was as lanky as they come, and really didn’t look terribly imposing despite his height.
“Why don’t you tell me what you’d like to work on today?” She rattled off several options, styles, approaches and whatnot until he said,
“Whatever you think is best.” She instructed him to disrobe except for his underwear and lay on the table while she was out of the room, and that they would talk about an approach. As she left the room, she smiled and nodded an eerily knowing smile, as if the two were already acquainted. A moment later he was lying face down with his chin in the cushion.
“So,Mr. Isaaksen? I think maybe you have never had a massage….maybe you are embarrassed?” He nodded as much as he could, and his face turned a bright red.
“No need to be ashamed, Mr. Isaaksen, yes? Please feel free to tell me if this in anyway upsets you, okay? But I see something that maybe you forgot?”
Jeremy immediately panicked and put his hand to his torso to check his underwear; it wouldn’t be the first time he had forgotten, but at this point in his life, he almost welcomed exposure, so to speak. He felt course cotton with a wide band and breathed out a sigh….relieved wasn’t the word. He was almost disappointed.
“You forgot to tell the desk if your insurance will reimburse; this is for your injury, yes?” He nodded; forgetting about the car accident had been an easy thing since he wanted to forget it altogether.
“Is there something upsetting you?”
“I….” He struggled to speak. In Jeremy’s twenty-six years on Planet Earth, he had never been touched in any manner, shape, or form since his infancy with either affection or care. His mother had been a strict believer in withholding physical affection from him as her mother did before her; believing almost ironically that boys grow into men when treated thusly. That she realized too late and that she was deeply sorry made little difference; that Jeremy grew there had been never any doubt. Whom and what he grew to be was entirely in doubt.
“I will touch your shoulders firmly to help establish….contact, since you are not familiar, alright?” He nodded again, this time almost reluctantly. He welcomed the massage; it was the ‘whom’ that might receive the massage that remained not only the issue, but the issue of a lifetime.
“Do you have any questions? Your X-ray reveals a slight scoliosis and Gina notes that you will be working on building your lower back. Why don’t we concentrate on that for today? But whatever you say goes.” The girl seemed to be older than she sounded or appeared. As she laid hands on his back, Jeremy actually felt an odd sensation; likely something he could remember forever. He felt as if someone was taking care of him. After twelve years of taking care of his infirm grandmother before her passing that April, it had been all about her and everyone else.
“No one ever touched you like this, did they?” An innocent enough question, and certainly pertinent to his treatment. But it evoked a very odd response….predictable from his family’s perspective, since any show of emotion wasn’t considered manly. Jeremy buried his head in the cushion and began to weep. His shoulders began to shake and he gripped the armrests below with an almost vise-like grasp. Dagmara touched his shoulder softly and spoke in a near whisper.
“Let it out, Mr. Isaaksen, please. It’s okay.“ Instead of leaving him alone, the girl walked to the CD player on the table behind the bed and increased the volume. Dvorak grew louder and Jeremy’s sobs seemed to dissipate into the New World Symphony.
“I am sorry for you,” she said with an almost lilt; her accent did nothing to hid her intent to soothe and comfort. She wasn’t sorry for him. She was sorry with him.
“So much time for everyone else, I would wager, Mr. Isaaksen. And never any time for you.”
“I ….it’s okay….that’s what life’s about, isn’t it?” He said haltingly, trying desperately to convince himself that it was perfectly acceptable to set aside one’s own life for the sake of others; even if that meant it being give away by someone else.
“You have a girlfriend?” An odd and completely unprofessional question, it seemed perfectly acceptable coming from the petite girl who had once again started to massage his back.
“No….never any….and ….” It wasn’t as if he was going to confess anything to her. She was a professional whom he had only met. It was more the scenario of questions and answers he had envisioned time and time again. Who would want someone like him? He was a freak of the very first order.
“You don’t feel like anyone would want you?” She read his mind. Not really, of course, but the girl was very perceptive regarding life and facts and trends about human nature, but she was also very much tuned into how people actually felt and how they expressed those emotions. It didn’t take a psychiatrist to gather that the man who had been sobbing only moments before felt both unloved and unliked and unlovely.
“My question is, Mr. Isaaksen, who wouldn’t want you?” Having never had a single soul attend to his needs, he was like a pauper being clothed for the first time; no shame at all but an entirely wonderful expression of humanity. He was vulnerable, but in the presence of someone who would almost die before betraying a trust.
“I…I’m not….I haven’t….I don’t….” he stammered, trying hard to speak his mind and heart. She continued to work on his shoulders, kneading and pushing and prodding even as her words gently coaxed and invited and drew him out.
“You don’t have to worry about what you cannot or have not or do not, Mr. Isaaksen, please?” She was almost apologetic in her tone, but it proved to be what was needed for him to speak.
“I am not…..Who I am is….You promise you won’t laugh?” His voice broke. A confession best left from most folk’s perspective to a professional such as a therapist or a counselor or a clergyman, Jeremy began to open up for the first time since his twelfth birthday when he told his mother his secret.
“I only laugh at things that are funny, Mr. Isaaksen. What you are going to tell me seems already to me to be sad and lost and hopeless, and I would never laugh at that.” She began to rub his back softly in broad strokes, almost in a way echoing her words as the massage began to soothe more than just his muscles.
“I….” he hesitated. Tears began to stream down his cheeks. She leaned closer to his face and spoke softly once again.
“Mr. Isaaksen? I don’t want you to speak unless you wish; but I understand about not being heard. I really do. I know what it is like to be ignored and lost. What you tell me I will do more than keep as a secret, okay? I will treasure it as the gift it is, for it is a gift for you to trust me. I want you to have a chance to say what you need to say, okay?” She smiled at him and the look in her eyes disarmed the dread that dwelt inside him. He sighed once and looked up at her, biting his lip in the last vestiges of fear before saying finally.
“My name is Marta….” Dagmara looked at him with the most welcoming expression anyone could ever know before returning her attention to the tense shoulders and back of her newest client. After a few moments of silence; awkward for only one of them, the girl spoke.
“I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Marta Isaaksen.”
I don't want to close my eyes
Someone tell me how long I
Can keep this day inside
Somehow in this twisted world I'm really doing fine
You can say this piece of mind was never really mine
I don't always wake up this alive, but I have you
so I feel fine...
What if we had one second to be?
Just like the other what would we see?
What if you knew exactly what you are to me?
Would you be terribly surprised?
To see who I am in my actual size
A second is short, but more than enough
You would feel loved, you would feel loved
AllSports Medicine, West Caldwell, New Jersey...
Several months had gone by, and the relationship between Jeremy and Dagmara had changed slowly. At first, the girl only referred to him as Marta while she gave him a massage. But over time, she encouraged him to take small steps toward becoming more of the woman inside that he had hidden so long. Getting professional help was easy. The first challenge was probably the hardest, because it entailed more than just a confession, but had also required a lot of soul searching as Jeremy wondered just how he would explain who the woman was that his mother had never met.
“She is important to you more than any other…Trudno będzie, tak?”
Jeremy knew a little bit of Polish. His father was of Swedish descent, a Minnesota transplant when he came to New Jersey to practice medicine. His mother was a nurse who had lived in Warsaw until she was fifteen, and she used the phrase many time; a single mother making a living for her family always found things difficult. His father had died in Gulf War I when he was seven, and his mother worked two jobs to support him and his sister Inge.
“I think she will be more understanding that you can know. I have a feeling about this, Marta.” Dagmara had not called him by his male name for quite some time, and she had been instrumental in Marta's development by encouraging him to seek support. He had been going to a therapist in Livingston, and had found a support group not too far from his home. His mother already knew he was getting help, but up till then, he had not mentioned why he was in therapy.
“I will come with you if you like?” She smiled and Jeremy smiled back; a half-grin that indicated that he was considering her offer.
“No…I am serious. I would like to accompany you when you go, unless you would rather I not.” She had been growing closer to him; their relationship had blurred and had spilled over into his private life. Although some might consider it unprofessional, he told himself it was alright, since she wasn’t exactly a medical practitioner. And while it was only a supportive friendship, it still left her employment in jeopardy, since any time spent with a client outside of the practice was grounds for dismissal.
“No, Dziewczynka,” he said, more like an older brother or a parent than a friend. She was a little girl in comparison to him. She was a girl in comparison to him, even though she had done her best to affirm Marta.
“You can’t take the chance.”
“There is nothing to worry about. I will be alright. Let me help. I would love to meet your family.” She smiled as she began to work his back.
“Relax and let your worries go, dear friend. Think about it. If you don’t wish for me to meet your family, I will understand. I just want you to know you’re not alone.” She used her knuckle to work out a knot just under his shoulder blade and he sighed deeply. It was already a daunting thought to tell his mother. To bring a friend home… a girl, in fact, to meet both his mother and his sister would be met with delightful suspicion and expectation.
He felt compelled to tell both of them now about his gender issues; his therapist had encouraged him only days before that it might be helpful to speak to his family when she felt ready, but so soon? And what would they say if she shared with them what she really wanted to say…especially to her sister. It was frightening to deal with so much. He knew all the medical and psychological implications of going further in his journey to womanhood; as a nurse himself, he was informed enough. But he had no wherewithal regarding emotions.
“You’re getting tense, Marta. Just let go, okay?”
She nodded reflexively, her chin rubbing against the table, but she remained anxious throughout the session as the thought of talking about himself…..herself scared her. And talking about what was going on inside made little sense to her, but felt right even if it was painful as hell. And it certainly didn’t help that her heart was confused enough about herself without having love mixed into the equation. And even more so that the object of her affection was kneading her right shoulder at that moment.
“I’ll think about it, Dziewczynkal,” she said once again, wishing that she had the courage to say something less familial.
When something dies
Or comes to life
When water shines in yellow light
When something moves
Inside a tree
I wish you saw things just like me
The Isaaksen Home, Essex Fells, New Jersey...a few days later...
“You are ready, Marta?” The girl sat in the passenger seat of the car; her hand resting on Marta’s arm. It might have been Jeremy who was preparing to open up to his mother and sister about the most important secret he had ever kept, but it would be Marta that spoke, regardless of their response. Dagmara leaned over and kissed him softly on the cheek, sending a chill up his back.
“Na szczęściel,” she said with a soft laugh. He turned away briefly before turning back and smiling awkwardly; he’d need more than just luck to get through the evening without breaking down or worse.
“You’ll do fine, Przyjaciółką,” she said with another laugh; speaking more to him as a girl pal.
“With you along, I know I’ll be able at least to begin to speak. Where we go from there is anybody’s guess.”
A moment later he walked through the front door and hugged his mother, who was just wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. His sister Inge stood behind her and beamed when she noticed Dagmara standing in the doorway. She walked quickly to the girl and hugged her.
“Hi, you must be Dagmara. I’m Inge, Jeremy’s sister. This is my mother Denuta,” the woman ushered the girl to her mother who greeted her with a hug as well.
“I’m glad to meet you.” The words, so simple, seemed to take on much greater meaning as she nodded and Inge nodded in return.
“None of that, Mom. Dagmara is a friend.” He was careful not to use ‘just’ as a modifier. She was much more than a friend in so many ways, and to say otherwise would be not only an insult but a lie, and tonight was all about the truth.
They sat in the kitchen as Denuta poured coffee and set a plate of pastries on the table.
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, so before you speak, you need to know that nothing you can say to me will ever change the way I feel about you, and I know Inge feels the same way.” Inge nodded at her mother’s words.
“Mom….I’ve….” Jeremy began to choke up; knowing since he was only ten that things were different, he had held his peace for so long. What would his mother think of him? Even after she had reassured him, he still feared rejection. Growing up in the shadow of grief over his father’s death had left him unsure and insecure, and his other self was shameful; a dreadful thing for a boy and now a man to tell his mother. Dagmara put her hand on his arm. The look on her face gave him only a little strength and he turned away.
“You can do this.” She said it in such a loving way, but her presence made it more difficult because too many things were going on at the same time. He had barely enough strength to confess his affliction, much less tell her how he felt…how she felt. It had all become so confusing.
“Honey?” Inge reached over and put her hand on his arm…on top of Dagmara’s hand.
“We all care about you very much.” She looked in Dagmara’s eyes and caught something she hadn’t noticed at first. Nodding at the girl, she continued.
“We’re glad for you, honey.” She smiled at him and turned to Denuta who nodded and smiled.
“I’m glad to know that my boy has found someone special.” She said haltingly, her voice fading as she stifled a sob.
“No…no…you don’t understand…that’s not it at all.” Even as he said the words, he regretted them. But Dagmara looked at him and shook her head no, not to disagree, but to reassure him that it did not bother her. She smiled at Inge and Denuta and spoke.
“We have something to tell you, and it isn’t easy. But I know this is a family filled with love. If I may?” She looked at Jeremy for permission, but didn’t wait for an answer and continued.
“Your son is my friend, and I hope I am his, so forgive me if I presume, okay?” By now, Jeremy was almost bent over, his head turned to one side as he shook slightly. She squeezed his hand and went on.
“You know he is getting therapy, yes?” The two nodded.
“He is what they call gender dysphoric. What that means is.”
“OH…I know what that means, young lady.” It almost sounded like a rebuke, but Denuta shook her head in apology, surprising the others as she spoke.
“I’m sorry…I’ve had such a problem with names lately. Dagmar?”
“Dagmara,” the girl said cautiously.
“Yes, Dagmara. I know what gender dysphoric means…I am a nurse, you know.” Again, what could have sounded like a rebuke was softened by her smile.
“I’ve wondered about my child for a while now. I can’t even say why I felt this way; we never talked about it, and I’m such a bad mother for not asking.” She shook her head at her own words; her tears demonstrating just how strongly she felt.
“But we’re here, now! And we’re here for you, honey.” She reached over and place her hand on Jeremy’s other wrist.
“And of course, I’m confident that even if it is a surprise, Dr. Isaaksen here understands completely,” she said, patting Inge on the arm, grinning proudly as only a mother with two physicians for children might. Inge smiled and nodded.
“While I am clueless when it comes to you, honey, and I am sorry for that, I know that it can’t have been easy for you to open up to us.” She looked at Dagmara and smiled again.
“And to have such a good friend to stand with you? You know we love you, but you couldn’t have known how we’d react. You must have been so scared.”
“I’m….it’s been so hard. I’ve tried to hide for so long, and now that I know…how much time have I lost…. Mommy…I’m so sorry that I never told you.” It was so odd to see the change as Jeremy seemed to fade into Marta like a special effect in a movie, but his countenance softened into hers as Marta came out literally to her sister and mother.
“Kocham cię moje dziecko.” Denuta said, her voice breaking. Marta put her head down.
“We’ll always support you. How…what’s your therapist say, honey? Is that helping at all?” Denuta wasn’t doubting the process; she just wanted to know if her child was getting the help he…she needed.
“Yes…and I’m going to a support group in Morristown. But….I wouldn’t be sitting here.” Marta stammered, partly out of the still unfamiliar position of telling her family about herself, but also out of embarrassment and even a feeling of inadequacy.
“If it weren’t for Dagmara….she’s been so …” Marta began to shake again. There was nothing to cause her to fear other than old ideas and habits that still were slowly but surely fading away.
“I have known your daughter for months now, and I am glad to be counted among her friends.” A simple statement, truthful to be sure, but entirely disappointing to Marta because of what is didn’t say.
“What she has needed for a long time is a chance to be herself, and now she had found that chance, and I have been happy to help.” With that, she began to get up from the table.
“I think I should leave you three to get acquainted, yes?” Marta went to speak, but the girl smiled and shook her head, putting her finger to her lips.
“No….it’s okay….I will see you on Friday, okay?” She leaned closer and gave Marta a very sisterly kiss; friendly and kind and altogether hopeless and disappointing.
A few days later...
“It went well…now I have….it’s good to know I have support going forward,” Marta said as she settled onto the table.
“And of course, there’s you.” Dagmara said nothing, and the quiet was deafening until she spoke.
“I am sorry, Marta, but I am going to be leaving this practice soon.” Dagmara frowned only a little, but her disappointment was nothing like the woman who lay on the table awaiting the ministering hands. She rose slightly as if to turn to get off the table, but the girl placed her hand on Marta’s shoulder, pushing her gently back down.
“It will remain the same for us, yes?” She leaned closer and whispered in the woman’s ear.
“You will be okay….I am going to take some time to visit my parents in Krakow and then I will be returning here, but not to work. I am going to get married.”
“What….” Marta turned around on the table and faced the girl, almost in a panic until the girl smiled, her grin almost silly and playful.
“That is, if you’ll have me?”
“If I’ll……” Marta turned away as if to question what she had just heard. She turned back to see that Dagmara’s grin had turned into a broad smile, her eyes welling with tears. She nodded and spoke softly, almost in a sing-song weeping combination,
“Marta, będzie wam pojąłby mnie?” She tilted her head slightly to one side. Marta’s Polish still left a bit to be desired, but her eyes widened in both recognition and tentative joy.
“Marry?” She stammered and Dagmara said simply but beautifully,
“Tak, Ty możesz być moja żona.” She nodded enthusiastically and drew close and kissed Marta.
“Wife? Yes…oh yes….”
What if we had one second to be?
Just like the other what would we see?
What if you knew exactly what you are to me?
Would you be terribly surprised?
To see who I am in my actual size
A second is short, but more than enough
You would feel loved, you would feel loved
You would feel loved, you would feel loved
You would feel loved, you would feel loved
St. Barnabas Hospital, Livingston, New Jersey…a few years later
“So it’s decided? And I don’t get a say in this,”
Dagmara pretended to pout. Of course she was glad for the gift that she was about to receive, even if it meant risk for both her and Marta. It’s rare to find donors who are compatible in such a short time; much less someone in our own family. That she and Marta shared enough markers for a transplant was truly amazing.
“You don’t have to do this.” She protested; not to put off Marta’s concern but to instead let her know that nothing between them was an obligation. Marta just smiled and leaned closer to kiss her wife…domestic partner, actually. Nothing yet on that front other than that everyone seemed to hedge their bets regarding any position; preferring to allow someone other than themselves to make a decision that should have been decided decades before.
“It will be my honor and my privilege, moja droga.” It would prove to be an honor and a privilege, but in much more in ways that would be far reaching and eternal.
Ostatni
(The Last)
Zatańcz ze mną jeszcze raz
Otul twarzą moją twarz
Co z nami będzie? - za oknem świt
Tak nam dobrze mogło być
Gdy ciebie zabraknie i ziemia rozstąpi się
W nicości trwam
Gdy kiedyś odejdziesz
Nas już nie będzie i siebie nie znajdziesz też *
The Issaksen home, two years later….
Marta lay on her side, facing away from Dagmara; her face etched with sadness. Dagmara arose from the bed walked over and hit the advance on the player. Soon the sounds of gentle rainfall were replaced by a romantic lament, She walked back to the bed and lifted Marta to her feet. Placing her right arm around Marta’s waist, she lifted Marta’s right hand; her head tilting slightly.
“Pochodzą ze mną tańczyć…Let me lead? I’ll be gentle, moja milosci,” she said with a smile. Marta pulled away and walked back to the bed.
“It’s … “ Marta sat down and shook her head in sad disbelief. After every bit of struggle and sacrifice she had made every effort had been in vain. At least she thought that way.
“Don’t be sad… it gave us more time than we could have hoped for.” Dagmara’s matter-of-fact explanation for the prognosis did nothing to comfort her wife, and Marta put her hand to her face as she shook her head lightly. A second later she felt Dagmara’s lips kiss her hand as she gently pulled it away from Marta’s face; revealing more sadness than she had ever seen.
“We still have time, moja droga. Just not as much as we’d like.”
“No….this is wrong. It’s not how it was supposed to be…It’s not fair!” Marta protested. The ache of the procedure was long past even, but the doubts and guilt remained. It was as if it was Marta’s fault that the donor cells failed; science and technology be damned. she had failed.
“But Marta? There is no such thing as fair. We live in a cruel world filled with flawed people trying their best to make it better. Have you not made my life better? If life had been fair, you would never have met me because you would have had a different life. But if you had an easier life you would not be the same person. Would you care as much about the children you help at the clinic? Would you have volunteered to go to Haiti? Would you even have loved me?
“I would have loved you…in a thousand lifetimes….” Dagmara smiled at Marta’s words.
“Yes, I do believe you would have, but would I have loved you? We shall never know, but I love you now ….today… and that is all that matters.” She giggled slightly as she kissed Marta’s hand once again, giving her a ticklish shock.
“Stop…this is…no time…” Marta protested as Dagmara pushed her back on the bed, turning her attention to the sensitive places on Marta’s rib cage. Words mixed with laughter and tears as the two continued to roll on the bed; tickling each other to hysterics. Dagmara kissed Marta full on; much more amorous than the moment would have promised but exactly what the moment required. She pushed her hand through Marta’s hair and laughed.
“You need to get to the hairdresser, kochanie.” She ran her hand over her own scalp, feeling the short brush that barely covered her head.
“I’m lucky, moja żona …. No such worries, yes?” What had she had intended to be a light moment turned dark in an instant as Marta stared at her wife.
“It’s not fair!” Marta repeated. Dagmara put her hand against Marta’s lips; palm forward to shush her.
“Maybe so, but we still have time, dear one. Let us do what we can to capture every precious moment we have instead of worrying about the moments we might not have. I love you….now… today…and forever!” Marta nodded in weak agreement until Dagmara added,
“I have not given up, and neither will you, okay?” She reached around Marta’s neck and pulled her into a warm, hopeful kiss before pulling her down into herself in invitation.
Czy słyszysz jak tam daleko muzyka gra?
Zatańcz ze mną, jeszcze raz**
Several years later…
Marta stood on a soft, rolling hill that overlooked a meadow-like area surrounded by tall oaks and strewn almost with plaques and headstones marked by winding cinder paths. A smallish girl stood next to her, holding her hand. The girl was about thirteen or so and favored Marta in coloring but was much more like her mother in size and temperament.
“Tell me again, Mama? I love it when you tell me about her, okay?” She glanced down at a bronze marker. Simple but elegant, Dagmara had insisted with a laugh. It was bordered by a raised frame of sorts with embossed roses and lilies.
Dagmara Twardoska Isaaksen
Umiłowany żona i matka
1983-2011
“Pochodzą ze mną tańczyć?”
“She did love to dance, right Mama? And she was loved.”
“Everyone she met loved her. She was so positive, Denuta, just like you. You have her eyes, you know?”
“Yes, Mama. I remember her eyes. And her smile.”
“Yes moja córka….and her smile.”
“Thank you, Mama. Thank you for loving my mother and thank you for loving me…”
Denuta grabbed Marta’s hand and pulled her close for a kiss on the lips. She was still a little girl in so many ways; innocent and hopeful, and strong; just like both of her mothers, which is as it should be. Marta pulled her daughter into a hug and kissed her on both cheeks in blessing. She grabbed the girl’s hand and they walked slowly down the hill.
Zatańcz ze mną jeszcze raz
Chcę chłonąć każdy oddech twój
Co z nami będzie? - uwierz mi
Tak jak ja nie kochał nikt***
*Dance with me one more time
Wrap up my face with your face
What will happen with us? - dawn out the window
We could have been so good
When you will be missing and the Earth will crack
I remain in nothingness
When someday you'll go away
There'll be no us anymore and you won't also find yourself
** Can you hear the music playing in the distance?
Dance with me, one more time
***Dance with me one more time
I want to inhale every breath you take
What will happen with us? - believe me
No one has ever loved like I do
The newsroom of WROC-TV, Rochester, New York...
“Hey Mike…just wanted you to know that your Teens Steroid piece was really good; the graphics and production of course were superb; Dave always does a bang up job, but the questions in the interviews…pretty focused but still appealing for a half-hour Saturday news program. Management really appreciates your work.” Jack Welker smiled as he poured himself a mug of coffee.
“Dave was just great to work with; really made my job so much easier.” Mike smiled back nervously and nodded. He was cut out of the Mike Greenberg/John Clayton sportscaster mold. To say he was wiry would be granting him much more stature, and he would never look like the stereotypical sportscaster.
“Yeah…I believe I just said that, Mike. You’ve got to learn to toot your own horn, kid; most everybody does and no one but no one will go out of their way to boost you. But hell, you’re this week’s hero, so bask in your glory!”
“Thanks. I really felt good about it, and I’m glad that it worked out okay.”
“You’ll hear about most of this in a couple of days…Stu Davies is leaving to take the evening sports gig in Buffalo…and Alex is finally retiring. That health scare last year. Yeah…I know.” Jack held his hands out palms down and continued.
“He’s been sayin’ it for the last couple of years, but it’s really time, and management is sorta givin’ him a nice financial shove out the door.” Mike tilted his head and bit his lower lip.
“What I’m sayin’ is that they’re gonna offer you the weekend gig here. You’ll have to clean up a bit, but I bet that won’t be too much to ask, right? And don’t tell anyone I told you, okay?”
“I don’t know what to say.” Mike looked away and sighed. He really didn’t know what to say since what he already had planned on telling the station was likely going to be met with more than just a little bit of surprise.
The office of Megan Delhomme, PsyD, PhD, Therapist….Webster, New York…
“So how does that make you feel, Mike?” Megan smiled.
“It’s something I’ve dreamed about….sort of…since I was a kid.”
“You sound hesitant, Mike, what’s that about? I mean if you want the position, what’s holding you back?”
“Oh, jeez, Meg….you know very well what’s holding me back.” Mike seemed almost angry, but his tone quickly changed as he smiled.
“I know…you need me to voice my reasons; something I need to do to show that I really believe what I say. We’ve been over this before, but yeah, I’ll bite.” He looked away and sighed.
“When I came out to my family it was a mixed bag. Dad still won’t talk to me. He hasn’t said a word one way or the other in nearly six months. Mom cried for a whole week, but at least she still hugs me when I come over. Chelsea was great….” Mike paused and sighed again, this time with a smile.
“She made a joke about sharing, but it was kind of nice. I got upset…It was a very difficult thing for me to do, and she apologized for being so flippant about it. `
“What about your brother?”
“Anthony? I haven’t told him yet…I don’t know if I can.” Mike paused for a moment and frowned.
“But hell, he’s going to find out about it sooner or later anyway. I don’t know what’s keeping me from opening up?” He sought a quick answer from Megan but she turned it around.
“What do you think? How important is it for him to understand?”
“I think….” He began to mist up.
“Feelings, Mike…I know you can do this.” Megan leaned closer and nodded.
“It would kill me if he….It’s important.”
“Because?” It almost seemed cruel for Megan to insist, but it was important for Mike to understand how things worked for him; what drove his decisions.
“Are you who you say you are? Are you ‘what’ you say you are? Will you still be you even if he doesn’t agree?” He knew the answer and usually would have only nodded, but he also knew it was important to speak the truth about himself.
“Yes…I’ll be who I am no matter how my brother sees me.”
“So what will you tell the station? It’s going to be difficult no matter what; we both know that.”
“When I was about eleven or so I was watching the news on ROC…a Friday night, and they had the news anchor…and the weather gal….and Ann Montgomery…all women…I don’t think anyone had ever done that before. Montgomery ended up teaching high school video journalism, but she was a sports anchor for ESPN.“
“Sounds disappointing.” Megan half-frowned.
“No…she loves what she’s doing, but for that one short time…she was the only one on National TV, and I said to myself, I want to be just like her.”
“Nationally known, huh…that’s a tall order.” Megan laughed softly. She knew where Mike was going with it, but pressed him anyway.
“No…I wanted …I want to be just like her…. a ground-breaker.”
“You gonna change your name?” Megan teased; it wasn’t uncommon for TV celebrities…even sports and news casters…to change their names.
“No… I’m named after my Uncle Mike…my mother’s little brother….little? He was…Went to Iraq as a correspondent. Ended up stepping in front of two Iraqi kids when a suicide bomber killed a bunch of people at a bus stop in Basra…I mean…it was pretty much the safest part of the whole country.”
“So he was a hero. Why you want to keep the name? To pay tribute?” Megan smiled warmly.
“Yes…” Mike sighed
“I think if he was alive today, he might consider you a hero as well…that he might consider you brave.”
“I’m no hero…I’m not giving up my life for this…I’m just trying to live the life I have.”
“So what should I call you? Michelle? Shelly?” Megan teased once again.
“Michaela…Michaela Parente.”
WROC….a few days later…
“You plannin’ on goin’ to the station Halloween party on Sunday?” Cindy Wrobowski smiled and touched Mike’s arm. He shied away just a bit before pausing to consider his answer.
“Yes…and I’m going to need some help.” He turned away and Cindy held tight to his wrist and said in a hushed voice,
“No…you’re going to do it? No.” She began to giggle; her tone grew only a bit louder but almost conspiratorial.
“I’m in…you know I’d do anything for you.” She would, though Mike was the last to know it.
“Come over to my place on Saturday…I know just the thing.” She laughed but then looked at Mike’s face, which appeared more than just nervous.
“You’re….I …” She put her hand to her face and stroked her cheek before finishing….okay, honey…I guess it’s time, huh?”
That Sunday, the Strathallan Hotel Banquet Room, Rochester, New York…
“Wow, Cindy…where did you get the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders outfit?” Danny Artale teased. He already knew she had been a cheerleader for the Cowboys as a single mom before going back to school for her journalism degree. And of course, it made little difference to Danny since he was gay anyway, but it was a joke they enjoyed sharing. Standing next to her was a fairly athletic if somewhat boyish woman in a Team Norway Soccer outfit. She likely resembled many of the girls most people consider tomboys, but her face was bright and attractive.
“I don’t know you, do I?” Jack asked the girl as he stood next to the pair. Jack wore his usual expensive suit and over-moussed hair politician outfit. The girl smiled politely before nodding and replied,
"Jeg vet ikke; kjenner du meg?" before walking away, leaving Jack more than puzzled. Cindy quickly followed her and they stood close to each other, huddled by the punchbowl.
“I’m telling you…it’s that new forward that the Flash just got from Washington…”
“I think it’s that girl on the dancing show, but she’s sorta plain looking….maybe her sister?”
By the end of the night folks were too tired or too disinterested apart from Jack, and they just stopped guessing about the new girl at the station. Jack walked back to the two girls, who by now were standing near the exit ready to leave.
“Are you sure I don’t know you?” He said, and the soccer player smiled politely before saying in a nice alto voice,
“I don’t know, Jack, do you?” Mike smiled and began to laugh, which got Jack laughing nervously.
“Jeez, Mike…what the fuck. You look just like…well I wouldn’t say pretty….’handsome?’ ‘Striking?’”
“Cindy’s really good with makeup, and I do resemble my cousin Inge Fiske...it's her uniform... but when you look, you really do see me, right?”
“Yeah…sure…you…” Jack was confused. While Mike might not look like the most attractive woman he’d ever met, he still looked fair; not gorgeous but more like your best friend’s ‘cute’ sister; yes...very striking as they used to say.
“Good night, Jack, I’ll see you tomorrow…” Mike trailed off as Jack walked away. He stopped about ten feet away from the two and turned around.
“OH…hell, I forgot to tell you…big day tomorrow…that surprise from management? Be on your toes, kid!”
The following afternoon at WROC…
Jack walked out of his office, shaking his head. He was confused and frustrated, and just a bit angry as he turned and looked down the hall toward the executive board room.
“Fuck.” There really wasn’t much to be said. To say that Mike’s interview didn’t go well would be the understatement of the millennium. Of course, Jack had been convinced that Mike had the job sewn up; no one else on staff was remotely qualified for the weekend gig, but today’s events had changed the entire landscape of the sports department. He walked into the boardroom and found Mike sitting alone at the table; the executives had long abandoned the room to gather for a hastily called lunch-time meeting to determine how to proceed.
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Mike! What the fuck were you thinking? I know it’s Halloween and all, but I fucking told you that your interview was today, didn’t I? What the fuck. I suppose you think this is funny?” Jack was nearly shouting at that point, and even with the door closed, the entire newsroom could hear his rant.
“No, Jack…this isn’t funny at all. It’s my life, and it’s the only way I knew to be the person I am for the job.” He used his hand in a gesture to point to himself.
While he wasn’t wearing a woman’s soccer uniform like the previous night, he still appeared much different than the sportscaster the station manager had expected would show up for the interview. His hair was neatly trimmed in a very attractive cut just as the evening before, but his ears were adorned with gold cross studs, which matched the cross around his neck. Instead of his usual gray tweed sports coat, he wore a nice maroon blazer over a pale cream shirt. The blazer was a match to the slacks he wore, which complemented his shoes. Black pumps with a two inch heel.
“You look pretty decent, but that’s beside the point, Mike. Even if it’s Halloween, you had to know they wanted to see you looking professional? What the fuck were you thinking?”
“That’s just it, Jack. This is professional…for me. This is who I am, and what I am becoming. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but the guy you know doesn’t really exist; this is the person you hired, not him.”
“Oh, dear god in heaven, what the fuck are you talking about?” Jack plopped down in the large chair at the head of the table and shook his head.
“Just this. Mike Parente no longer exists. In order to be who I need to be, I have to live like this for a year so that I can get cleared for surgery. I’ve been trying to get the courage to tell you, but I was too scared. So Cindy and I came up with this plan. When no one seemed too uncomfortable last night I realized it was now or never.”
“Whatya mean, Mike? You wouldn’t go through with it? That you’d have come to work today dressed like your old self?”
“No, Jack…I mean that I wouldn’t have come to work at all. I’d have had to turn in my resignation, since I can’t live that lie anymore. I have to live as who I am…And that’s the other thing…My name isn’t Mike, it’s Michaela. I’m sorry.” The old had been indeed replaced; a man’s image no longer sat before him as the woman began to tear up only slightly; an inner strength Jack had never noticed before came out as the woman said once again,
“My name is Michaela.”
“I bet….Listen…I’m sorry I have to say this, but the big wigs had a meeting at lunchtime.” Jack frowned as if he was telling a child that their dog had died.
“What do you mean?” The woman bowed her head slightly, already fairly sure of what Jack would say.
“Damn it Mike...I mean…Michaela Parente? You’re fired.”
“You can’t fire me for cause, and the last time I looked, my job performance was rated excellent.”
“You know and I know and everybody else knows that they can’t fire you! Yes…I’m quite aware of that. Shitty thing though, they don’t have to offer you an on-air position.” Jack frowned, and for the first time Michaela realized Jack was in her corner. That the two of them were backed up as if they had painted themselves into that corner hadn’t occurred to her. She was just glad that he was at least sympathetic to her.
“You’re not supposed to be having this conversation, are you?” She laughed softly but her frown displayed her disappointment.
“No…the Station Manager apparently has no say any longer in the hiring of on-air personalities. I can only assure you that you won’t be putting your writing and production responsibilities in jeopardy.” Jack frowned once again and his shoulders slumped as he continued,
“I’d fucking quit except I can’t afford the pay loss and I’ve got too much wrapped up in the folks who still have jobs here. If I bag it, Al Payson gets the job, and he’s on board with the powers that skulk regarding your employment..”
“Let me make this easy for you, Jack.” She opened her purse and handed him an envelope.
“Oh no you don’t! Oh hell no.” He pushed the envelope back across the boardroom table.
“It’s the only way. I need a second chance, and it can’t be here. It’s not your fault that the old guard hasn’t a clue. I know you care. You’ve always been like a big brother to me.”
“Fuck, Mikey…shit…Michaela…I never knew I had a little sister, but since I do know now, I can’t just let you throw away your career because of a bunch of dumb old fucks.”
“I’m not throwing anything away. I figured I’d give them a chance, but your job and our friendship aren’t worth fighting a battle neither of us can win. I know how it works; no bias can be proved in cases where positions are open…they just didn’t feel my audition was...adequate.”
“What audition? You didn’t even get a chance to submit a tape.” As he finished speaking, Jack’s eyes widened and he began to laugh.
“Oh…no…I’ve seen that look before…and I can smell the wood burning in that stove you call a brain.”
“Listen…meet me on set in about…twenty minutes, okay?” He jumped up and ran to the door but paused for a moment,
“And Michaela?” He said it almost sternly.
“Yes?” She lowered her head and shoulders before he finished.
“Fix your lipstick, okay?”
“Are you sure about this?” Michaela turned to Dan Capelli, the weekend morning news anchor. He smiled and said,
“You bet, Mikey!” Somehow coming from Dan, the nickname sounded entirely feminine and almost brother to sister. He leaned closer and whispered to her with a sly grin,
“Let ‘em pound salt.” Michaela nodded, forgetting just what the expression meant, but she did know it wasn’t very nice. A moment later Tamra Steele, the weekend director stepped to the desk.
“I’ll cue Dan and he’ll read this morning’s copy and then he'll turn it over to you, okay? Good luck, Mikey” There was that name again; playfully sister to sister, not just as in the sisterhood, but as if Tamra was her real sister. A moment later they heard the countdown and Dan began,
“Tomorrow on Rochester Am, Alison Nordstrom, Director of Exhibitions for The George Eastman House and recipient of the Lifetime Achievement from the Griffin Institute, takes the viewer on a virtual tour of Eastman House. And now, with tonight’s sports, Mikey Parente. Gee, Mikey, what’s going on with those Amerks.?” Dan tried not to grin, but he was a fairly affable on-air personality, so he was sure no one would notice.
“Well, Dano, we’ve all been wondering when they were going to wake up, and wake up they did! Good Morning Rochester! And they picked a great time and a very challenging opponent to come to life. Led by Nick Crawford’s hat trick and stellar goaltending by David Leggio, the Amerks beat the front running Toronto Marlies. 6 to 1...and in other hockey news, the Buffalo Sabres acquired Center Dave Bolland from the Chicago Blackhawks today for the Sabres number two draft choice for 2012. And in other news...”
A few minutes later and it was over. The conspirators quickly dispersed and met back at the board room. On an early Friday afternoon they were assured of privacy.
“It went well…better than I thought it would as a matter of fact.” Jack half smiled and shrugged his shoulders.
“Hell, kid…I know you, but I don’t know you….you were an untried commodity until we actually got you on tape.” He looked at Tamra and Dan and the crew and held the tape up.
“Let me get this in the right hands, and we’ll see how things play out, but don’t do anything at all until you hear from me.” Michaela looked at him nervously.
“Seriously, I’ll take care of this.” He smiled and looked at the rest of the group before stepping closer to Michaela as if to reassure her. And a moment later he leaned close and kissed her on the cheek, causing both of them and Tamra to blush. Dan looked at him sideways and Jack grinned.
“Well, I can’t just shake her hand. I’ll call you tomorrow…it’s the weekend, so give me to the end of the day…Sunday latest. I’ve got a few favors to call in, so hang in there, okay.”
“I don’t know what to say.” Michaela put her head down and for the first time in her life; new or previous, she began to cry.
“Just say thank you, Jack. You’re the best Station Manager the world has ever known.” He patted her quickly on the back and walked out of the board room. Oddly and happily enough, it was Dan who came up and patted her shoulder and said,
“It’s okay, Mikey…we got your back!”
Sunday morning...
“Rooney’s? On Henrietta…sure…see you at eleven.” Michaela clicked off her cell and turned around.
“Do you have to go?” Cindy Wrobowski sat on her bed, patting the mattress and pouting like a little girl. Michaela walked back to the bed and sat down next to her and smiled.
“Well, there’s two things about the appointment…three actually. One? Yes, I have to go. Two, I want you to come with me.” Cindy looked at her and cocked her head.
“No matter what, from this day forward, everything I do is no longer for me.” She pursed her lips and sighed.
“I don’t understand.” Cindy looked puzzled, but her look changed to cheerfully anxious as Michaela smiled at her.
“What I do I do for us…from now on, my life is yours.” Cindy stared and her eyes and grin both widened as Michaela pulled her close for a kiss. After a few moments they hugged as Cindy asked.
“Okay…what’s Three?”
“Since your townhouse is on Henrietta near the restaurant and it’s only nine o’clock….what do you think?”
“Oh…Ms. Parente….your lipstick is smudged. Let me take care of that.”
And they kissed.
Rooney's Restaurant...a while later...
“Well, you’re looking awfully chipper for a Sunday morning.” Jack looked up to see Michaela and Cindy walk up to the booth and sit down. He wasn’t surprised at all at Cindy’s presence, which surprised them in turn.
“Like I didn’t know?” he laughed and motioned for the waitress. A few minutes later the waitress had taken their order and they were left to continue the conspiracy started on Friday.
“You don’t mind if someone joins us?” He looked over at the entrance and saw a familiar figure. The man stood at the doorway and nodded; their communication was lost on Michaela and Cindy, whose back was to the entrance. A few seconds later the man sat down next to Jack and began to speak.
“I don’t have much time; I’ve got to get to the studio, but I wanted you to know I looked at the tape with a few others from the station. You’ve got the weekend gig if you wanted it. I’ll get the contract to Jack tomorrow, and you can look it over before we negotiate, okay? Okay.” Unlike Jack, the man chose not to kiss Michaela on the cheek, but still waited for her to offer her hand before saying his goodbyes.
“I…I don’t know what to say,” she practically whispered; words destined to become almost a catchphrase in her relationship with Jack. He laughed and said,
“OH, thank you, Jack…you’re the best friend ever. I thank God for the day I met you.” With that, he stood up and motioned for the waitress once more. She walked quickly to the table and he pulled out a hundred dollar bill.
“Here, kid. Whatever the check ends up and you can keep the change.” She blushed and put her hand to her face and nodded awkwardly before walking back to the front.
“You two love birds have a nice day. I’m off to Buffalo this afternoon; the Bills should have their hands full with the Eagles.” He blew them both a kiss and walked out of the restaurant.
A few weeks later...
The girl stood off to the side, her heart pounding and her eyes welling with tears. The four figures sat down at the news desk for the broadcast. Meanwhile, a man sat on a stool at Tully’s Good Times Bar and Grill and looked up at the TV on the wall behind the bar, counting down the seconds as the opening credits for the newscast rolled,
“Eyewitness News TV Thirteen with Rachael Barnhart and Jane Flasch, Meteorologist Patrice Walsh and Michaela Parente with the weekend sports……And now…Eyewitness News….”
"Way to go, Mikey!" Jack Welker laughed to himself.
"Way to go!"
Syracuse, New York, several years later…
Cindy Parente looked up through sleepy eyes and shook her head.
“They're actually going through with this?” She used her hand to point to herself and then to Michaela.
“I was so sure things had changed, honey. I’m so sorry.”
Michaela put her head down, feeling as if the story was her fault. In a way it was, but not as a fault but as a natural consequence of good decisions not held in respect by everyone. Most folks, even in the more ‘conservative’ places in upstate New York, believed in a live and let live attitude. And certainly, while Michaela had never been ashamed of her past, she still never felt called to be the spokesperson for transgendered sports reporters. Just being a woman in the business was difficult enough, as Hannah Storm had sadly discovered at ESPN.
“It’s not fair!” Cindy sighed. Neither woman dealt with fair vs. unfair; she really meant it was unjust that someone in the management of the local affiliate thought it good to draw attention to the couple’s life choices to boost ratings. Even before the teasers regarding the report had aired, Michaela was already receiving enough hate via twitters and e-mails at the station.
Mostly traditionalists liked their sportscasters to be either male or decidedly attractive women. Michaela wasn’t unattractive, but she’d never grace Elle or Vanity Fair either. And in every aspect save one, she was never really a male. She had, however, been Michael Parente. That would never change, since who she had been prior to her surgery was just as much a part of her.
“No, but it’s what it is.” Michaela sighed. She sat down on the bed and covered her eyes and began to cry softly. Before Cindy spoke again, Michaela had turned to her.
“I’m sorry you have to go through this. It was never my intent…” Cindy cut her off with a finger to her lips. She pulled her wife close to her and kissed her on the cheek.
“I know. But I am so glad to be a part of your life…of this life we share. No matter what, we’ll be fine, okay?”
It was going to be fine, but how and why and when were yet to be determined. And the ‘going through it’ part of becoming fine in the end would be the hardest thing either woman would ever endure.
Wegmans’ Supermarket, Syracuse, New York…
Michaela seemed lost in the large store, but not for anything there. She grabbed a gallon of milk from the shelf and put it in the cart; absentmindedly enough to crush a loaf of bread. She bit her lip and looked around while talking to herself.
“Hey, Mickey… you suck!” The voice came from behind and to her left. She looked over her shoulder and saw two men standing by the Coffee grinder at the end of the aisle. Hate mail, snail, electronic, or otherwise, was hard enough to deal with, but now some ‘fans’ had taken it upon themselves to protect the sports profession from ‘ those people ‘ in person . Too many were still stuck in the past regarding women in general, but if the misogynists were in the dark ages, then the anti-transgender crowd that had only recently raise its ugly head was positively Neanderthal.
“Look….she’s gonna cry….” The hairier of the two exclaimed. Michaela was on the verge of tears, but not for the idiocy coming from the two. She grabbed her purse from the cart and walked out of the store to her car. She eased in behind the steering wheel and hit the recline lever on the seat. It had started to rain, and she powered the windows a bit to let the cool mist in. Turning her head to the side, she noticed her station windbreaker. She bunched it up a bit and put it under her head to use as a pillow. Ironic, since it was likely the last benefit she’d receive from her job if the rumors were indeed true. And this was actually the best part of her day…
News Department Conference Room, WTVH, Syracuse, New York, earlier that day….
“Gee, Michaela, I’m sorry you feel that way, but you do have a contract…” The man seemed positively convinced of his own cleverness. Michaela shook her head.
“My contract doesn’t call for me to subject my family to what amounts to an invasion of privacy. You want to do a story about me here, that’s fine, but my home life is off limits. My wife and step-daughter have enough to deal with, and they don’t need you prying into their lives…” Her voice trailed off as she thought of the continued struggle her stepdaughter Celia underwent. Still young at twelve but so old from all the chemo and the ups and downs of the remission/return cycle and the procedure. It was hopeful by a very slim margin, but that still meant something.
“That’s not the way Legal sees it, Ms. Parente. You’d be wise to listen to Jensen here and just work with us.” Benson, the new station manager leaned closer.
“We can’t fire you, but I imagine you don’t want to be doing the Saturday Pet Parade; you have a personal services contract that pretty much lets us call the shots. You don’t have to do sports if you want to remain employed…. Just whatever we say you should.”
“I don’t care. I’ll do whatever is necessary to keep my family safe.” She shook her head. It felt as if the past few years had all been a dream and that the harsh reality of her life was waking her like someone dumped a pitcher of cold water on her head while she was asleep. She thought of how much Cindy had put up with at work when the network aired the teaser for the series the other night. While Cindy’s co-workers were already aware of her special family circumstances, some of the other folks at Michaela’s old station were still being dragged kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century.
“Think it over. We will start filming tomorrow; ready or not. If you still refuse to cooperate, there’s always kittens and puppies and fucking birds to deal with on Saturday from now on. Your choice.” The two got up and walked out, leaving Michaela to ponder the worst part of those choices. But it didn’t stop there, sadly. A few minutes later, Gina Ming, the production assistant, knocked on the door frame.
“Mikey? Your wife is on line seven? She says she’s been trying to get in touch with you but it kept going to voice mail. I’m sorry.” She pointed to the conference phone in the middle of the table. Michaela picked up the receiver and hit the seven-button.
“Cindy…what…. Where are you….Dr. Phan’s…what? ” She placed the receiver in the cradle and bit her tongue. A moment later Gina had returned with a cup of coffee.
“Here, sweetie… I figured you could use this after meeting with those dickheads….” She stopped in mid sentence; noticing that the color had pretty much left Michaela’s face and that she had been crying. She stepped closer and Michaela looked up and shook her head.
“Celia? Oh dear God ….” The look of disappointment on Michaela’s face said it all.
“Oh, honey…no….no…” Gina sat down next to Michaela and pulled her into a comforting hug.
“It’s not the worst news in the world, but…. I’m just so tired….”
“I’m so sorry, honey….oh no…shhhhh….shhhhh.” Gina rubbed Michaela’s back and sighed.
Two-Twelve AM… the Parente apartment…
Michaela poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. Cindy was in Celia’s room asleep next to her daughter…their daughter. Funny how things work out; Michaela had given up hop years ago of ever being a parent. She never thought that she’d find love from a child, much less love from an accepting woman. She breathed out a heavy sigh; trying to keep quiet in the still that sleep had finally brought to her family. The long day promised no end, and it was too much for Michaela. She put her head down on the table and wept….
The next morning….
“What am I going to do?” Michaela wasn’t a complaining person. Far from it, she was likely one of the most resolute people anyone would want to meet. But the day before her loomed as large as a thunderstorm edging closer and closer. Cindy put her hand on Michaela’s arm and leaned closer; almost touching heads.
“What you’ve always done. Fight and fight hard.” She smiled and used her eyes to gaze at Celia. The girl was up and at ‘em, as some would say, despite the bad news of the day before. If Michaela was a fighter, then her step-daughter…her daughter was a champion in mixed emotional martial arts. She had everything to fear, but her day lay before her like a title already settled but for the fight ahead.
“Yeah…I think you should just tell them …. Mom says I shouldn’t, so I’ll just say you know what I mean.” The girl giggled. So much strength and determination and valor in one so young; strength tempered by challenges to overcome.
“Can I ask a question?” Cindy and Michaela both wore the same expression; a look that said ‘you can have anything you want.’ She didn’t miss the look and spoke.
“Mom….Mikey? I’m going to be okay. I believe that with all my heart, and so should you.” She reached over and grabbed Cindy’s hand and squeezed.
“I think you should do the story, Mikey….” She grinned; an almost conspiratorial smile.
“Just do it the way you want. And if they won’t let you, maybe you can call Uncle Jack?”
“Do it the way we want to?” Cindy nodded and grinned.
“Maybe say somthin’ about Carrie and Luis and even have them come over there when they do the thing?” Her grin widened and she laughed; this time soft and kind and sweet. Her friends faced the same daunting challenges each day as she did and they faced them with courage.
“That’s a great idea.” Michaela smiled and pulled her cell phone from her purse. She hit a preset and waited for a few moments.
“Jack? Yes…. Can you do me a huge…yes…that….they won’t give in…what? You serious? Really? Holy…Yes…tomorrow afternoon is perfect….he’s there with you….wow…..you’re a dear….I love you too….Thanks…” She clicked off and laughed softly. Of course the news was wonderful, but she was marveling more that Jack Welker had actually said ‘I love you,’ to her; a testimony, not only to their friendship, but to the changes in Jack’s life.
“You’ll never guess what Jack just told me…” And of course they couldn’t guess, so Michaela told them. A few minutes later after another cup of coffee and a few relieved tears, Michaela went to stand up. Celia grabbed Michaela’s hand and placed it on her head, giving her other Mom a start from the prickle of the peach-fuzz of hair that adorned her scalp.
“For luck?” She laughed. The girl was used to setbacks. Her hair had grown only so much with the back-and-forth of her treatment, but was at least long enough to reveal its ginger hue.
“Okay,” Michaela said. Her heart wasn’t really into fighting a battle, but how could she back down from something so small as a job when her daughter was in the fight of her life. She stood up and grabbed her purse from the table. Leaning over , she kissed Cindy and spoke.
“I love you so much. We’ll be fine.” She nodded and stepped around the table and kissed Celia on the forehead and smiled.
“I cannot begin to tell you how proud I am of you and that I am so blessed. I love you so much.” She kissed the girl once again and scooted out the door and into the day’s events.
The next afternoon…
“Have you decided?” The man sat behind the large table as if it was his office domain. Flanked on either side were two men. Benson seemed to resemble Mr. Smith from the Matrix series and the other two looked just as bland.
“Before you speak, let me remind you of what your options are? First, we’ve decided that you can have a few days before we begin to shoot for the feature. It’s going to be shown as a half-hour special on the 26th; plenty of time to prepare for the publicity it will bring.”
“To you, maybe. To me, it’s not publicity, but will become notoriety with some. And that’s something…”
“I’m sorry you feel the way you do, but really? Isn’t this all inevitable? It’s not a secret about your choice to change your sex.” One of the men spoke.
“And really? Can a bit of notoriety be all that bad for a sports reporter? It practically drives most of the stories these days, yes? Why not….”
“Just sit back and enjoy it?” All three men completely missed the meaning of her words.
“Why, yes. That’s a good way of looking at it.” Michaela turned to her right and shook her head slightly, mouthing, “I can’t believe he just said that. Jack turned to the three and smiled broadly.
“What do you have to say, Mr…..You’re Ms. Parente’s attorney?
“Jack….Jack Welker, and no, I’m not her attorney.”
“The name sounds familiar.”
“It should. I’m the station manager over at ROC in Rochester."
“And you’re here because?”
“He’s here because he’s my friend.” Michaela said. She turned and smiled; Jack’s presence went way beyond advice or hand-holding. Jack was like a father to Michaela, and he was ‘there for her,’ as the saying goes.
“All well and good, but the decision still remains. Are you prepared to cooperate?”
“Well, yes and no.”
“You might want to actually do some research on transgender women and men. You don’t have a clue as to who they are or what they go through, and it’s really too bad, since it shows how shallow you are. But Ms. Parente has something more important to discuss.” Jack nodded at Michaela.
“I’m not following you.” The man looked at Michaela and then at his colleagues.
“I am prepared to do a program for the station, but it will be on my terms.”
“I don’t understand? “ He stated the obvious since they hadn’t understood from the beginning.
“Just this. Ms. Parente and her partner are the parents of a daughter who is recovering from a significant medical problem. The girl is willing to allow you to include her in your feature if you agree to her terms; terms which are non-negotiable.”
“Wait a second, you can’t dictate to me…I’m the station manager!” Benson almost jumped out of his chair. The other two nodded vigorously in agreement.
“Well, more about that in a second, but for moment let’s just say that Celia Parente-Wrobowski will be running the show, so to speak. She has some friends who face the same challenges as she does, and she wants them included in the feature. All of her friends have had bone-marrow transplants, and it’s still an uphill battle for some. Your feature may include some background regarding her mother Cindy and her step-mother, Ms. Parente, but in no way will Ms. Parente’s gender be the focus of the presentation.
“Wait a minute! That’s ridiculous. That’s the whole reason for the feature in the first place.”
“Sorry, but that’s a violation of Ms. Parente’s rights and threatening her position with the station is blatant harassment, plain and simple.”
“That’s not what our legal department says,” the first man pointed to the third at the end of the conference table.
“Well, yes, we’re quite aware of what your legal department says, but we don’t accept that.”
“You can’t tell us…” Jack held his hand up and waved slightly in caution. It took all Michaela could do not to laugh, since she already knew that the best was yet to come.
“I’m not a lawyer , but I have a friend who is…” He paused for effect; the suspense was more for his benefit and a need for a good laugh, but he also wanted to hear them out.
“Yes, most of us do, but seriously, we have contract law behind us.” The man seemed to be getting a bit nervous. Jack added to the anxiety all three of the men had begun to display by pulling out his cell phone.
“You might want to listen to what my friend has to say.” With that he punched in some numbers and waited. After hearing a click, he turned on the speaker.
“Hello Jack? Are my friends there?” The words seemed friendly enough but the three men grew more nervous since they recognized the voice; Robert Stephano; owner of the station.
“Yes they are, Bob…yes they are,” Jack allowed himself a brief laugh.
“Gentlemen…you do know who I am, do you not?” The two on either side of the first man nodded as if the man on the other end could see them. Benson seemed to be hoping desperately that he was mistaken even as he nodded in agreement.
“Ye….yes, Mr. Stephano.”
“My friend Jack here tells me you’ve been giving our best sports announcer a very hard time. Please tell me he’s wrong?”
“We…uh….” Benson stammered but Stephano cut him off.
“I would expect my station manager would know a rhetorical question when he heard one. Of course I know he’s not wrong. What the fuck were you thinking?”
“We…ah….”
“Rhetorical, Mr. Benson, please! Now my understanding is that Ms. Parente’s daughter has come up with a very good if not completely legal and non-harassment enabling alternative. Human interest. Brave little girl faces challenges with friends? Now who wouldn’t want to watch that?”
“Er….”
“Ah, ah, ah Mr. Benson. Now here’s what you three are going to do.” Jack turned away to keep from bursting out in laughter. Michaela was only smiling a bit; her eyes had begun to well with tears over the thought of Celia and her friends. But she sighed and smiled as Stephano continued.
“First? You are going to apologize to Ms. Parente. I believe an apology should have teeth, so you will be giving her a ten percent raise effective immediately. Second….you will write her family an apology for even thinking about trying to exploit them. It’s hardly a human interest story if you’re inhumane, yes?” Benson went to speak but thought better of it; the word rhetorical seemed to bound around in his head.
“Third, and this is very important, gentlemen, and I am using that word as loosely as I can manage. You will get all the proper paper worked ready for this production, including a contract to compensate the children who will be featured in the program, which you will extend to an hour. This won’t merely be a story, but perhaps a way for you to redeem yourself. I’ve taken the liberty to set up a fund for the three…the four counting Ms. Parente’s daughter…children…. To help defray the costs of their treatment. Get Angie Zuk to produce it; she does a great job and she can go over with you all the ins and outs of what you three will be responsible for.”
“But I’m in legal,” the man at the end protested.
“For the time being, Mr. Halley….yes, I know your name; your father and I go way back. You can resume your other responsibilities after the show is completed, but I want you focused on fixing what has become a royal fuck-up, capice?” Halley nodded.
“And don’t feel so bad, Mr. Allucio? Did I pronounce that right? Of course I did. I’ve got a special job for you. It seems that assistant to the station manager isn’t quite a good fit for you. I think I’ve got just the right position. Do you like animals? Of course you do…. Everybody likes animals.” Halley gasped.
“I’ll let you keep your position as assistant to Mr. Benson there, provided you do a smashup job on the assignment I’ve got for you. Saturday mornings….starting very early…yes I know it’s hard after a long fun-filled Friday night, but I’ve got every confidence in you that you’re just the right man for the job.” He laughed at the end. Halley grew nervous and frowned in anticipation.
“That’s right…you guessed it! Pet Parade. And we’ll be doing that live and repeating on Sunday mornings as well, since everybody likes animals.” Allucio slunk in his chair.
“Finally…we come to you, Mr. Benson. All kidding aside? You nearly cost this station a whole lot of money. Lawsuits…loss of revenue from the fallout? But that’s not the worst part of it, Mr. Benson. And I promise; this isn’t a rhetorical question. Just what the fuck did you think was a good idea about a very intrusive look into a family already dealing with what these people have to face? Even if you didn’t do your research, Ms. Parente’s ‘no’ should have been enough. And here’s a thought? Next time you decide to pull a stunt like this, instead of running it by the legal department, try running it by your conscience if you actually have one.”
“I’m….I’m sorry.” The break in Benson’s voice indicated more than just regret for the consequences.
“I know you are….thankfully. You get to keep your job, Mr. Benson, but there will be a two percent reduction in pay; perhaps a bonus of sorts to help you remember the next time you think about exploiting someone. Okay?” Stephano’s last words seemed almost grand-fatherly.
“Yes, Mr. Stephano…” The other two nodded without word.
“Oh, and Mr. Halley? Your father says hi….” He finished with a laugh and hung up.
“So gentlemen? Would you give Ms. Parente a call when all the arrangements are set up?” Jack smiled and patted Michaela’s hand. Benson stood up and was quickly followed by the other two. He nodded and walked toward the door before stopping and turning.
“I’m very sorry, Ms. Parente.” He said. She smiled and nodded.
Several months later….
Michaela and Cindy and Celia sat at the kitchen table. Cindy’s expression reflected her daughter’s; one of happy and hopeful relief.
“Wow….seventeen thousand dollars so far, and that’s not including what Mr. Stephano kicked in. Oh thank you, Mikey,” Celia threw her arms around Michaela and kissed her.
“It’s all you, sweetie. You did this!”
“No….we did this,” the girl said as she smiled and nodded at Cindy and then back at Michaela.
“In all of this, honey, you’ve never once asked for anything for yourself. It’s all been about your friends and us. And we’re so proud of you. If you could have anything….” Cindy stopped; gasping at the thought of unfulfilled wishes. Desperate enough for most people to begin with, but even more so for Celia and her friends. She smiled.
“Two things? First? I want to grow up to be just like you. I want to be kind and caring and love people the way you do Mom and you, Mikey. And of course I want to be in sports just like you, Mikey.” Michaela and Cindy nodded. Just those wishes indicated so much more because the girl hoped for a future. Cindy smiled at her daughter.
“What was the second thing, honey?” Michaela asked. Celia laughed softly and said.
“This isn’t neg…negotiable, Okay?” They looked askance at her in anxious anticipation. Her laughter softened as she seemed to ponder the other wish. She smiled broadly and spoke.
“No more broccoli for dinner!” Michaela and Cindy looked at her in confusion; the request was so small; almost insignificant until she added,
“Forever!” Cindy sighed at the word and Michaela leaned closer and kissed her daughter and said softly in the girl’s ear,
“Forever.”
Things always work out; just how often remains a mystery and just when usually means immediately before they work out, but they always do. Second chances are by definition good things. Hopefully the second chances I’ve portrayed in this series, while fictional, are still encouraging and hopeful. Thank you so much for reading and supporting me. Much love! Andrea
The Wedding Song
(There is Love
Words and Music by
Noel Paul Stookey
*Lyrics adapted by
Andrea Lena DiMaggio
As performed by Miss Petula Clark
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YRQdh7sgjjE
Chances Are
Words and Music by
Al Stillman and
Robert Allen
as performed by
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7QAqkGHD4Q8
Nostalgia
words and music by
Martin Phipps and
Vince Pope
adapted and performed by
Emily Barker and Red Clay Halo
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w098rz-rdiQ
Ostatni (The Last)
Words and music by
the performer
Edyta Bartosiewicz
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TPwB10gs8H8
