Lost and Found
By Missy Crystal

David Benton's parents couldn't understand his wanting to be a girl and sent him to a psychologist for behavior modification. They thought it was working, but, when David turned eighteen, he left home and they haven't heard from him for five years. Now Mrs. Benton has terminal cancer and desperately wants to be reunited with her son. Private Investigator Jack Blaine has been hired to locate him. What will he find?

It started out like any other day. I was in my office finishing up a report for an attorney who had hired me to shadow his client's husband. The photos I took of him going into a motel with his secretary and a photocopy of the registration and credit card slip, which the desk clerk was happy to give me for twenty bucks, would get the wife a nice big settlement when she divorced him. The phone rang.

"Hello, Jack Blaine Investigations. This is Jack Blaine."

"Mr. Blaine, this is Dr. Charles Benton," the caller introduced himself. "I'd like to hire you to find my son David. He left home about five years ago and I need to get in touch with him."

"My rate is $500 a day plus expenses, Dr. Benton."

Damn, I thought to myself, the guy's a doctor, not a cheap-ass lawyer. He's probably loaded. I should have said $1,000 a day. He'd probably have paid it. Well, too late now.

"I am pretty busy, but I could work you in," I promoted myself. "Why don't you come down to my office this afternoon and we can talk about it. Do you have the address?"

He read the address from the phone book.

"Yes, right. How about one o'clock?"

He agreed.

"Bring any information you have. You know, physical description, height, weight, eye and hair color, distinguishing marks or scars, and photos, as many recent photos as you can find. Any personal information he left behind too, passport, driver's license, credit cards, address book, letters, diary, and, oh, if he left a computer or cell phone, those are really helpful."

He would bring what he had.

"Good, I'll see you this afternoon."

I hung up, finished writing the report, made up a bill, put them in a manila envelope, added postage and stuck it on top of my coat, so I wouldn't forget to mail it. It was only eleven o'clock, so I had time to go out and get a cup of coffee and a sandwich. I ate a leisurely lunch at the café across the street, flirted with the cute blonde waitress, not that it ever did any good, she had a boyfriend, and got back to my office about twelve thirty. I neatened up my desk and waited for Dr. Benton.

At precisely one o'clock the office door opened. A well dressed man entered carrying an expensive looking leather briefcase. Damn, I should have told him $1,000.00 a day. He would have paid it. You’re an idiot. I stood up and came around the desk. He crossed the room and stopped in front of me.

"Mr. Blaine, I am Dr. Benton," he formally introduced himself, shifting the briefcase to his left hand and extended his right hand.

I took the hand he offered, shook it, directed him to a chair and returned to sit behind my desk. He put the briefcase on the floor next to him.

"I understand you want me to find your son, is that correct, Dr. Benton."

"Yes, Mr. Blaine. Should it be Detective Blaine? I have no experience in dealing with people like you."

"Mister works. Technically, I'm not a detective. They're police officers who investigate crimes. I'm a licensed private investigator."

"I suppose you want to know about David," he got right to the point.

"The more information you give me, the more likely it is that I will be able to locate him. First off, have you filed a missing person report with the police? They're the ones who handle this type of case initially."

"At my wife's insistence, I tried to report David missing a few years ago, when it became clear that he wasn't coming home. The police said that if he was an adult and left voluntarily, they could not do anything, unless I suspected that he was the victim of a crime, such as being abducted or murdered."

"Okay, so I gather that your son was an adult and that he left home voluntarily, correct?"

"Correct. David graduated from high school five years ago. We thought that his nonsense about wanting to be a girl was over, that the therapy had worked and that he would be going to college; we woke up one morning and he was gone. Just like that. My wife cried for days. She blames me. She thinks that it was my fault for being so hard on him. It was for his own good," Dr. Benton insisted defensively. "He was a bright boy. He did well in school. He had a future. I wasn't going to let him throw it away."

"Hold on, Dr. Benton. You said you son was missing," emphasizing 'son'. "What's this about a girl?"

"The term the psychologist used was 'transgendered,' Mr. Blaine. My wife caught him dressing up in her clothes when he was younger. I put an end to that. At least I thought I did."

"Is that why he left home, Dr. Benton.?" I conjectured.

"I don't know."

"Did he leave a note?"

"No."

"Was there a friend or relative he might have been close to and he went to live with them?"

"I have a brother. I haven't seen him in years. We don't get along. David wouldn't have gone there. Phyllis, my wife, has two sisters, but David hasn't contacted them. My parents are both deceased. Phyllis's parents are retired and live in Florida. They haven't heard from David either."

"Does David have any brothers or sisters or a close friend? Maybe he confided in one of them."

"David is an only child. I should have seen this coming and sent him to military school," Dr. Benton digressed. "They would have made a man out of him. I had the catalogs, but my wife was against it. You know women." He shook his head. Returning to my question, Dr. Benton went on, "after David left we spoke to his teachers and his classmates, but he kept to himself."

"You mentioned that David was seeing a psychologist for his problem with dressing up in women's clothes. What did he, was it a man, have to tell you?"

"Yes, a male psychologist, Dr. George Miller. Unfortunately, David waited to leave until he turned eighteen, so Doctor Miller could not disclose any information without David's permission, not that I believe he would have anyway. I paid him tens of thousands of dollars, because our health insurance wouldn't cover his controversial therapy. He assured us that it works and I doubt he would say anything to contradict the success of his program," Dr. Benton accused him.

Reaching down, Dr. Benton picked up the briefcase and opened it, removing some papers and a videotape.

"I wrote down his physical description, here are some pictures of David which Phyllis took about a month before he left, at his graduation, and here's a videotape of the ceremony."

"Do you mind if I look at the video while you're here. It would be helpful, if I have any questions about what I see."

Dr. Benton looked at his watch.

"Go ahead. It's not that long," Dr. Benton conceded, mistaking my question to be about his schedule.

I had a set-up I used for reviewing surveillance videos. I put in the cassette and hit the play button. The video started. You could hear voices in the background and see an empty stage. The scene panned to a long shot of a group of kids standing around in black caps and grounds. The music started, they marched towards the stage and filed into seats. There was a long boring address, which I fast forwarded through, and then they went up to get their diplomas. There were congratulatory shouts and applause for most of them. From the way the camera quickly zoomed in, I assumed the boy with the long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail was David. There was no sound from his parents or the audience as he took his diploma and walked off. The camera followed him off stage. The video resumed with David standing next to an overdressed, compared to the casual attire of the parents around her, brunette decked out in a lot of diamond jewelry, who I assumed was his mother. Strangely, at least it would have been strange if I didn't know what was going on, he showed no excitement. He just stood there. His mother hugged him and gave him a kiss on his cheek. David continued to stand without showing any emotion. He was shorter than average with fine features. I couldn't tell much about his body with the gown covering him up. When the video ended, I hit stop and rewind. I'd seen what I needed to and gave the cassette back to Dr. Benton. Looking over the photos, I picked out two. One of them was a full body shot and the other a close up showing him from the waist up.

"Did David have a driver's license, Dr. Benton? Did he have a job? Did he have any hobbies or activities he liked?"

"He never got his driver's license," Dr. Benton answered. "David never worked. He didn't have any hobbies or outside activities either. When he was younger, I tried to get him interested in playing sports. I signed him up for a soccer team. He just sat on the bench. He preferred to stay in his room and use his computer."

"Did you check his computer? Often kids get into chat rooms and meet people who talk them into leaving home to meet them. It's very dangerous. Were you able to retrieve any information?"

"David was good with computers. I thought that I would find something, but everything was erased. I took it to a computer specialist. He said that David had reformatted the hard disc and that he couldn't recover the files."

Obviously, David was a smart kid and didn't want to leave any way for his parents to find him. This was going to be hard."

"Did David have a cell phone? Often you can check the call logs or at least look at the phone bill to see who he was calling or who is calling him. It could be a lead."

"David left his cell phone in his room. I checked it out. The only numbers he called or which called him belong to our home phone and my wife's cell phone. I went through the bills too. They did not show any anything."

"Dr. Benton, you've given me no information to work with. I can't run a skip trace with just his name and social security number. The ID has to key into a data base, the police, FBI, Interpol, court records, job inquiries, hospitals. The photos aren't going to be any help either, if you son is dressing up as a girl. With a wig and makeup, he could be sitting right next to me and I wouldn't recognize him. I'm really sorry. I'd like to help you," if he only knew how much, "but I can't take your money." I was really going to hate myself for turning down the case.

Dr. Benton opened up his briefcase again and took out a checkbook.

"Mr. Blaine, I don't know how long my wife has left. The hope of finding David is of some comfort to her and I'm willing to pay for it. Do whatever you can. How much of a retainer do you want?"

Well, I tried to do the right thing I assured myself.

"Tell you what, Dr. Benton. I know someone in the records section of the Police Department who does me a favor from time to time. I can ask her to run a check on David. It's a long shot, but a kid on the street is likely to get himself in trouble, so maybe he's got a record we can find. Today's Wednesday, just give me fifteen hundred for three days work. I'll get back to you on Friday. Give me a number where you can be reached."

Dr. Benton filled out the check.

"My office telephone number is on the check and the answering service knows how to reach me," he said as he handed it to me over the desk.

I looked at the check and did a double take.

"Dr. Benton, you must have misunderstood. I said fifteen hundred. This is for five thousand. I can't accept this."

I handed it back to him.

"Mr. Blaine, take the check and do whatever you can to earn the fee."

I wasn't going to argue with him.

"I'll try, Dr. Benton, but I don't charge for a result I can't produce. I won't take the case otherwise. Do we have an understanding?

"Yes, Mr. Blaine. We have an understanding. I'll look forward to hearing from you."

Dr. Benton got up, picked up his briefcase and started towards the door.

"One more question, Dr. Benton."

He stopped and turned around.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but is your son gay. It makes a difference how I go about looking for him."

"I don't know, Mr. Blaine. He never had a girlfriend and he had no boyfriend either. Dr. Miller claimed that he wasn't. We never talked about it, but from his affect, the long hair, the way he behaved, I'd have to say that he was."

After Dr. Benton left, I stashed the check in my desk drawer. I decided not to deposit it until Friday, because having the money in my account would be too much of a temptation to spend it on something foolish, like paying my bills, and I would probably be giving most of it back. Way to go Jack. I picked up the phone, looked through my Rolodex and found Doris's number. I called her.

"Hello, Records Department," Doris answered.

"Hi, Doris, it's Jack, Jack Blaine. How are you?"

"I'm busy Jack. What do you want?"

"Listen Doris, this isn't my usual BS case. I have a client who's looking for his son. He left home about five years ago and they haven't heard from him since. His name is David Benton. All I have is his date of birth, his social and a description. I gave her the information. Could you run a check and see if there's any record for him, please. It's worth a dinner at the best restaurant in town," I enticed her.

"Forget it Jack. I'm not having dinner with you. I want two tickets for the next rock concert at the Arena, deal?"

It was Dr. Benton's money.

"No problem, Doris. Deal. Front row center. Just find the kid for me."

"Okay, Jack. I'll give you a call later today, but you better not welch on me, if you know what's good for you. The meter maid in your area is a good friend. Your car will end up booted and towed to Oshkosh. Understand."

"Doris, how could you?"

"I could, because I know you Jack. Talk to you later."

Doris hung up. I had nothing else going on, so I decided to do some old fashioned leg work. If David was gay, maybe I could find someone who knew him at one of the bars on Tenth Street. I got in my car and drove over. It took me about twenty minutes to find a parking space. The first place I came to was called "The Rawhide Room," whatever. The windows were blacked out, so I opened the door and looked in. It seemed like any other bar, tables, a small stage, dance floor and a long bar, except that it was upholstered in black leather. Not much in the way of décor, in fact, nothing in the way of décor, but then I supposed ambiance wasn't what the customers were looking for. I entered and walked to the bar. The bartender was a young man with dark close cropped hair and a mustache. He was wearing a black t-shirt with a leather vest and had studded cuffs on his wrist. As I got closer and could look over the bar, I saw that he had leather pants with a thick silver chain for a belt. Very tough looking, so I scowled, to let him know I was no pansy, and did my best Bogie impression.

"Hey, bud. I'm looking for a guy."

"Yeah, well, so what. This ain't no dating service. Come back when we're busy and find somebody," he challenged me.

That didn't go well.

"No, I'm a P.I. and I'm looking for a guy, name's David Benton. Ever heard of him?"

I took out the pictures and put them on the bar. He ignored me. I took out a twenty and put it on the bar next to the pictures. That got his attention. He came over, looked briefly, took the twenty and walked away."

"Nope, never saw him."

"He might be dressing as a girl."

The bartender rolled his eyes and gestured around him.

"Buddy, this is a leather bar. We don't get any drag queens in here. Try Ginger's Club about two blocks down."

"Okay, thanks."

He walked off like I wasn't there. I left and walked over to Ginger's. It looked a lot nicer than the other bar from the outside. It was also closed. The sign on the door said that it opened at five. I looked at my watch and it was a little before three. I decided to go back to my office and wait for Doris to call. If I was lucky, I wouldn't need to deal with drag queens. I drove back and parked. It was about three thirty, so I went over to the café and got a piece of apple pie and a cup of coffee. Betty the waitress still ignored my efforts to be social. It was her loss. I picked up a newspaper on my way to my office. I was struggling with the crossword puzzle when the phone rang.

"Hello, Jack Blaine Investigations. This is Jack Blaine."

"No luck," Doris put it succinctly."

"That's okay, Doris. I was hoping that maybe the kid got picked up for something."

"Even if he was in custody, Jack, without any ID on him, he could give a phony name and we couldn't check it out. You're still going to make good on the tickets, aren't you," Doris asked suspiciously.

"Yes, they're yours. Thanks."

"Welcome."

She hung up. Okay, Jack, you get to check out Ginger's after all. It was a little after four. I killed another half hour and then headed back to Tenth Street. I got there just after five. I opened the door and looked in. There was a circular bar in the middle of the room surrounded by tables and booths against the wall. I couldn't see anyone. As I was approaching the bar a woman came around from the other side and smiled when she saw me. I walked over to her and she greeted me enthusiastically.

"Hey lover, I haven't seen you in here before. Are you new in town?"

"No, I'm from around here. I'm looking for someone."

"Aren't we all, sweetie. I'm Lola and you're early, if you're an admirer. The girls don't start showing up until after dark. I get off work at one though. Stick around."

She gave me a smile and winked.

"What's an admirer?"

"You're kidding. An admirer is a guy who likes to date T-girls. You, know, the best of both worlds."

"What's a T-girl?"

She shook her head.

"A transsexual, of course. Are you sure you're in the right bar?"

"I'm not looking for a date. I'm a private investigator and I'm trying to find a boy who may be dressing up as a girl."

I took out my ID card and showed it to her.

"Jack Blaine," she read off my name. "It's nice to meet you, Jack."

She held out her hand and I took it. She didn't shake, just held my hand gently and let it go.

"I still get off at one. Kill two birds with one stone," she offered suggestively.

I took the two photographs out of my pocket and put them on the bar.

"His name is David Benton. Have you seen him?"

She looked at the photos, covered his forehead in the headshot, studied it and then told me no. I took a twenty out of my wallet and put it on the bar next to the photos.

"Would this help your memory?"

She picked up the twenty.

"No, but it will buy you a drink while you wait. Penny is the girl you want to talk to. She works at an outreach program and knows all the T-girls. She usually comes in about eight. What's you pleasure, beer, booze or me? Actually, you can choose two of the three."

I still wasn't sure whether Lola was a man or a woman. She had a husky voice, but her mannerisms were feminine. She flirted with me the way I did with Betty. I didn't want to be rude and study her closely, not that it mattered.

"You say Penny will be in around eight?"

"Usually, but I'm not her social secretary. So, what'll it be?"

"Scotch, please, on the rocks with a twist of lemon."

"Jack, right"

"Yes."

"Well, Jack, I'll even give you the private label stuff."

She reached under the bar, took out a bottle, poured a jigger of scotch into a glass with ice cubes, took a piece of lemon rind from the garnish box, twisted it, dropped it into my glass and stirred it with a swizzle stick. She put down a cocktail napkin and pointed to a booth towards the back of the room. I took the drink and sat at the table. She gave me a smile and went back to work. Every now and then she'd look my way and smile. I tried to be as impassive as possible, so as not to encourage her. I wasn't exactly a ladies many, but maybe she wasn't lady.

I nursed my drink and watched the door. Two guys walked in. They were obviously a couple and from their identical short hair and the fact that they were holding hands, it didn't take Sherlock Holmes to figure out they were gay. I thought this was a place for men who liked to dress as women, but I guess it also attracted men who weren't into dating cowboys. The couple, I guess you'd call them that, gave me a quick once over, ordered drinks and settled into a booth on the opposite side of the bar

About twenty minutes later, a tall black woman came in. She was heavily made up with glittery purple eye shadow, purple lipstick and wearing a tight fitting red mini dress that showed off a set of huge boobs. On her feet were what had to be at least four inch red leather spike heels. What really caught my eye though was that she was a blonde. I assumed she must be a T-girl. She strode over to the bar and got a drink. I could see Lola talking to her and then they both looked over to where I was sitting. The black woman, T-girl, whatever she was, started to come over. Geez Louise, was this Penny? Well, maybe it was just as well. I could get it over with and get going.

"Hey daddy, I'm Jezebel," she introduced herself. "Mind if I join you?"

She slid in next to me. Her big dangly earrings swung back and forth as she moved. Apparently, Jezebel wasn't going to take no for an answer. I suppose the good news was that she wasn't Penny, so I could blow her off. Whoa, careful Jack, better watch what you say around here, I warned myself.

"Lola says you're looking for a T-girl in particular," Jezebel inquired as she pressed up against me.

"Yes, his name is David Benton."

I took out the photos to show her.

"I thought she was TS?"

"TS?"

"TS, a transsexual."

"Oh, well, he dresses up like a girl. Does that make him a transsexual?" I naively asked her.

"You're kidding?"

"No?"

She shook her head and her earrings swung dangerously.

"A guy who just wears women's clothes is a cross-dresser. If that's who you're looking for, you won't find him here. They have their own private clubs where they go to get dressed and hang out. They sashay around for a while and then go back to their wives or girlfriends."

"They're not gay?"

"Most of them aren't. It's a fetish more than a lifestyle. Once they start dressing full time, then they're TV's, transvestites."

"I'm confused."

"Join the club," she said with a deep laugh.

"What's the difference between a TV, a TS and T-girl?"

"It depends on who you talk to. For my money, CD's are straight guys, TV's are gay guys and TS's are females, T-girls."

"What are you, Jezebel, if you don't mind my asking?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out," she answered provocatively. "Want to dance and we can talk about whatever pops up?"

I hadn't noticed, but there was music playing in the background. There must be a sound system that was turned on when it started to get busier.

"No thanks, I'm waiting for Penny."

"What's she got that I haven't got," she questioned me, putting her hands under her breasts and bouncing them in my direction.

"Information, I hope," I replied, avoiding her invitation for closer inspection.

"Oh well, your loss. I'll be around if you change your mind."

Jezebel got up and went over to the bar to talk to Lola. I guessed they were commiserating over my not being an admirer. I looked anxiously at my watch. I really wanted to go before more of these T-girls started hitting on me. As I waited, additional women came in, some flamboyant like Jezebel and others less, and a few men. I concentrated on my drink, trying to make it last and glancing at the door each time it opened. It began to get crowded. A few T-girls started dancing with each other, confirming my impression that admirers were in short supply.

I continued to wait. The ice cubes in my glass melted. Watered down scotch, even good scotch, is not enjoyable. I didn't want to get up, because I'd lose my table, which meant I'd have to mingle. I checked my watch again. It was past eight. When I looked up, there was a woman standing in front of my table.

"Hi, I'm Penny."

I was taken by surprise. Her voice was soft and pleasant and she was stunning from the quick look I got, a gray dress of some soft material which accented her figure, the neckline revealing a modest amount of cleavage, red lipstick and a pretty smile showing white teeth.

"May I sit down?" she asked politely.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. It's just, well, you're different, umm, good different, umm, this is very awkward, I'm sorry," I stammered, finally apologizing.

She gave a little laugh.

"May I take that as an invitation to join you?"

"Yes, of course. Please. I'm Jack, Jack Blaine. You're Penny?"

"Yes. Lola said that you’re a private investigator and you're looking for someone who might be transgendered?"

"I think so. I'm not familiar with the terms. I've been embarrassing myself all night, but that was what his father said about what the psychologist called him."

"The psychologist?"

"They, his parents, sent him to one for therapy when they found out he was dressing up in his mother's clothes. They thought he was cured, but then he ran way when he turned eighteen and they haven't heard from him since."

Penny shook her head and sighed.

"I'm not surprised, Jack," she said with dismay. "There are some very misguided people who want to treat alternative gender and sexual preference as diseases. There is no cure. I know. I work in a gay, lesbian and transgendered outreach program. I deal with the messed up lives that their so called therapy causes."

"I'm sorry, Penny. I'm just doing my job. If it's any consolation, the boy's parents have forgiven him. His mother's very sick and they want him to come home. Any help you could give me in finding him would be appreciated. I have some pictures."

I took the pictures out and put them on the table.

Instead of looking at them, Penny frowned and said angrily, "forgive him, Jack? Forgive him," she raised her voice, "for what, Jack, for being transgendered? They rejected him at the time he was most vulnerable and their insistence on conformity took away his family and his home."

"As his parents, I'm sure they believed that they were doing what was best for him," I offered defensively.

"Yes, well, the road to hell is paved with good intentions, Jack."

"Penny, I don't want to argue with you. Can you help me find him?"

She calmed down.

"I'm sorry, Jack. I shouldn't shoot the messenger. You said his name is David. Does he have a drag name?"

"What's that, Penny?"

When you dress as a woman, you give yourself a female name. It's a part of your feminine persona. The convention used to be to combine the name of your first pet with your mother's maiden name. If you had a St. Bernard called 'Brandy' and your mother's maiden name was 'Smith,' you'd be Brandy Smith. It's more common and convenient to use the female version of your name, yours would be Jacqueline, but sometimes it's an unpleasant reminder or you just want something more exotic. Celebrity names or even cartoon characters are popular."

"I wasn't told anything about him using a woman's name. I'll check with his father. Would you mind looking at the photos? Maybe you will recognize him."

She studied the photos on the table, tilting her head slightly and paging her hair behind her ear to keep if off of her face. After a few minutes she shook her head.

"Sorry, he doesn't look familiar."

"Those photos were taken five years ago. He probably doesn't look like that now."

She shrugged.

"I can ask around. Can I take the photos? A name to go with them would help. Why don't you call me at work," she suggested.

She opened up her pocket book and handed me a business card from a red leather case. I read, 'Penny Johnson, MSW, LICSW, Director, Tri-City GLBT Outreach Services,' with an address, telephone and fax number and email address."

"Yes, take the photos," I agreed, putting her card in my wallet.

Then it dawned on me that she had offered to help me and I had not offered her anything in return.

"Penny, would you, umm, can I buy you a drink?"

"A glass of wine would be nice, Jack, thank you. Lola knows what I like."

"Excuse me."

I got up and made my way to the bar. Lola came over. I ordered the wine for Penny and another scotch for me, paying with a twenty and telling her to keep the change, which got me a big smile, although she deserved it for recommending I speak to Penny. I took the drinks and returned to the table. Penny was sitting demurely with her legs crossed. I put her wine on the table and sat down."

"Thank you, Jack."

"You're welcome."

"Tell me," I asked, making social conversation, "how did you get involved with these T-girls?"

"I was lucky, Jack. My family was very accepting and supportive. I got my graduate degree in social work and wanted to help others less fortunate, so I started the outreach program."

"You mean accepting and supportive of your wanting to work with transgendered men?"

"No, accepting and supportive of my being transgendered," she said matter-of-factly.

I couldn't help myself.

"No way," I said in astonishment.

"Way," she contradicted me pleasantly. "I'm a pre-op transsexual, Jack."

"Penny, I don't understand. You look so, I mean you are so, you're a woman."

"Yes, Jack, I'm a woman. Unfortunately, I have some extraneous anatomy that I need to reconfigure before my body matches up. Hormones and implants can only do so much."

"Your name, it's what you called a drag name?"

"It was once. Now it's my own name. It's on my diplomas, my certificates and my driver's license. Although it is confusing when I use the license for an ID, since the name and photo are female and it says my sex is male. I simply offer to drop my panties and show that the gender designation is correct. So far I haven't had anyone take me up it," she said with a pretend pout, "but I always wear pretty undies, just in case."

I didn't know what to say. I would have bet anything she was a woman.

"Was Penny your pet?" I tried to recover our conversation.

"No, not a pet, she was a character from a TV show."

"Which show?"

"It was before your time. My dad has a private pilot's license. He got interested in flying from watching a TV show called 'Sky King' when he was a kid. The main character's actual name was 'Skyler,' so, when I was born, that's what dad wanted to name me. Mom wasn't enthusiastic, but she gave in." She laughed. "Dad's concession was that Mom could pick the name if they had a girl." She laughed again. "I have two sisters, Chrissy and Janet."

She looked at me waiting for a response, but I didn't get it.

"They're the two roommates from "Three's Company." It's another old TV show. Remind me not to take you as a partner for trivia night, Jack."

"How did you get Penny from Skyler? Wouldn't your drag name have been Skye? I've heard that used as a girl's name."

"I never liked Skyler and Sky was an awful nickname for a boy. The kids would tease me, so I started calling myself Kyle. You know, ess-Kyle -err."

"That still doesn't explain Penny."

"Hold on, I'm not done. My dad had the complete collection of Sky King episodes on videotape and I would watch them with him. A lot. Sky King had a niece named Penny. She was always getting caught by some crooks or spies and outwitting them to call for Uncle Sky to rescue her. So I thought, if Dad couldn't have Sky King, he could at least have Penny and I liked her character. She was very self-reliant and resourceful. So here I am."

She turned to face me, put the backs of her hands under her chin, gave a little smile and batted her eyes like an innocent young girl. I couldn't help laugh. I was at a complete loss. Either Penny put the women I knew to shame or I had really poor taste in women, probably both. She finished her wine and looked at her watch.

"Oh, my, it's getting late and I have an early appointment tomorrow, Jack. Thank you for the drink and your company. Give me a call if you get any more information. In the meantime, I'll circulate the photos. If you like, we can meet here tomorrow night. I will return them and let you know what I found out."

"Yes, please, Penny, that would be fine and thank you for your company and for your help. I'm sorry I was, I don't know, dumb I guess."

"No, Jack, not dumb, uninformed. Hopefully we can correct that. Goodnight."

I wasn't exactly sure what she meant, but whatever it was, I was all for it. She stood up and I got up.

"Goodnight, Penny. Thanks again."

"You're welcome."

She went over to the bar and spoke to Lola. Lola looked over to me and nodded. Penny turned and left. I got up and headed for the door.

"Night Jack," Lola called after me.

"Night," I called back and quickly left before Jezebel decided to reassert her amorous intentions in Penny's absence.

I walked back to my car and drove home. I turned on the news, but I couldn't get Penny out of my mind. I was sure she was a woman when I met her. How could I have been fooled? I knew a babe when I saw one. At least I used to think so. Should I start questioning my masculinity? I gave up and went to bed. It took me a long time to fall asleep. I think I had a dream about flying.

The next morning I showered, shaved and put on my best slacks and my good shirt that just came back from the cleaners. I have no idea why I was getting dressed up. Not that I needed a reason. Penny looked professional when I met her, so I should too. Definitely, I should start looking more professional. I stopped at the convenience store on the corner near my office and picked up a cup of coffee and a couple of blueberry jelly donuts. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, after all. With some cream and sugar in my coffee, I pretty much had one of each of the essential food groups, round, sweet, black and white, together with the fruit vitamins. I got to my office, unlocked the door, picked up the mail that had been pushed through the door slot, all bills, sat at my desk, finished the donuts, washed them down with the coffee, wiped the remnants of the donuts off my face with a paper napkin and, having prepared myself for work, I looked up Dr. Benton's number. I called him.

"Hello," Dr. Benton's office a woman answered.

"Dr. Benton, please."

"He's with a patient, may I take a message?"

"Ask him to call Jack Blaine, please."

"Are you a patient, Mr. Blaine?"

"No, I'm doing a job for him and he asked me to call him if I needed anything."

"I will give him the message, Mr. Blaine."

"Thank you."

I hung up the phone.

"About forty minutes later Dr. Benton returned my call.

"Have you found him?" he asked abruptly.

"No, not yet Doctor. The records search didn't turn up anything. I didn't think it would, but it was worth a shot. I do have someone checking, umm, around. She wanted to know if you ever heard your son refer to himself with a girl's name. He might still be using it."

"Not that I know of, Mr. Blaine, but David knew that I disapproved of his behavior, so he wouldn't refer to himself as a girl around me. I told you everything I know about David when I was in your office."

"I understand, Dr. Benton. Penny, the woman who's helping me," no need to explain about her, "she suggested that he might be using the name of a pet or a character he identified with. Did you have a family pet when David was growing up?"

"No, no pets."

"What about a favorite character?"

"I have no idea what he liked, except to wear his mother's clothes. If that's all, Mr. Blaine, I have to get back to my practice," Dr. Benton dismissed me curtly.

I wasn't sure if this was a difficult subject for him to deal with or it was his personality. If I had to guess, not that I was doing very well figuring people out recently, I would say it was the latter.

"No, that's all for now, Dr. Benton. I'll be in touch."

I hung up. Even though I didn't have anything to tell her, I decided to call Penny. I got her business card out of my wallet and dialed her office number.

"Good morning, Tri-City Outreach, this is Carla."

"Good morning Carla," I greeted her politely. I tried to tell if she was a man from her voice, but I couldn't hear anything distinctive. Then again, just because Penny was a transsexual didn't mean that everyone who worked there was one too.

Hello, my I help you?" the woman repeated, reminding me that I had not responded.

"Hello, may I speak to," I had to pause to look at the card to get her get her last name, "Ms. Johnson," trying to be deferential by addressing her as Ms.

"May I have your name, please?"

"Jack, Jack Blaine."

"Are you a client, Mr. Blaine?"

"Umm, no, I'm, umm, a friend."

"One moment please."

I was put on hold and elevator music played over the phone.

"Jack, hi. How are you?" Penny greeted me.

"I'm fine, Penny. How are you?"

"Fine, Jack. Did you find out anything about what name David might be using?"

"No, I'm sorry. His father had never heard him use a girl's name. Has anyone been able to identify his picture?"

"Honestly, I've been busy and haven't had time to show the photos around. It should slow down around lunch time. Will you still meet me at Ginger's tonight and I'll tell you what I found?"

"Uh huh."

Brilliant conversational skills Jack, I congratulated myself. Penny didn't seem to mind.

"Good, I'll see you then. Bye."

"Bye."

The rest of the day was a waste. I puttered around the office, took the five thousand dollar check out of my drawer, looked at it and put it back, since I wasn't going to earn the full fee, unless Penny came up with something. I kept checking my watch. Around noon, I thought about going across the street, but I wasn't in the mood to flirt with Betty. I popped over to the convenience store and got a hot dog to complete my nutritional requirements with something from the foot long tubular food group and the piccalilli healthy vegetable family, washed down with a waist slimming large diet cola. It was a nice day, so I decided to walk off my meal. That killed another half hour. On my way back to the office I picked up a paper. Reading the news, sports and comics and playing with the crossword got me to four thirty. I got in my car and drove to Tenth Street. This was really dumb. You can't hang out in Ginger's waiting for Penny. I got back in my car and drove to my apartment. I sat around watching television until seven and headed back to Ginger's. By the time I went in, it was almost eight and fairly crowded. I noticed Lola behind the bar and Jezebel, obviously a regular, was sitting with a group of T-girls in one of the booths. I was hoping that there would be an open table, but they were all taken, so I sat at the bar. Lola came over and gave me a big smile.

"Jack, welcome back. What's your pleasure, booze or me?"

"What happened to two out of three?" I repeated her come-on from last night.

"I didn't think you liked beer."

"I don't."

"I wish you were serious, Jack."

She made up a scotch on the rocks and put it down in front of me. I reached for my wallet and she put her hand gently on my arm.

"It's on the house, lover. In case you change your mind, I still get off work at one."

"Thanks, Lola."

She walked off to serve the other customers and I sipped my scotch, keeping an eye on the door. About half way through my drink I saw Penny come in. I turned to catch her eye. She saw me and came over.

"Hi, Jack. I hope I didn't keep you waiting."

"No, not at all, I just got here.

She looked around to find a table, but none had opened up. She caught Lola's eye and she came over.

"Hi Penny," Lola greeted her enthusiastically.

"Hi Lola. Is there someplace I can talk to Jack privately?"

Lola gave her a silly smirk.

"Evil mind, Lola." Penny playfully admonished her. "It's business."

"In that case, you can use the office. It's in back past the rest rooms. I'll get you the key."

Lola walked to the cash register, opened the drawer, came back and handed a key to Penny.

"You’re a doll, Lola," Penny said appreciatively.

"Seconds on your boyfriend?"

"Evil mind, Lola," Penny repeated. "He's not my boyfriend," she disclaimed. "Like I said, it's business. When I'm done with him, he's all yours," which got a raised eyebrow and a chuckle from Lola.

Penny started towards the back of the bar. It was crowded when she came in and the whole exchange with Lola took place so quickly I didn't have a chance to get a good look at her. Following along, I could see she had on a dark blue straight skirt that came a couple of inches above her knee and fit her nicely rounded butt, bad Jack, which wiggled as she walked, bad, bad Jack, and a white blouse, nylon or silk, some shiny material, I didn't have much experience with women's clothes, which put me in the minority at Ginger's, and heels. I completed my assessment of her wardrobe as we reached the door to the office. She unlocked it, opened the door, went in and turned on the light. There was a plain wood desk, a standard desk chair and a brown leather couch that had seen better days. I could imagine the reason for its condition. Penny went over and sat down on the couch, waiting for me. I joined her.

"Any luck," I asked skeptically.

"Yes," she replied to my surprise.

I was going to keep the five grand after all, I congratulated myself. Then she qualified her answer.

"Before I talk to you about what I found, I need something from you."

"Dr. Benton was very generous with his payment for my services, Penny. I'd be glad to share it with you in exchange for your information." I offered.

She frowned.

"I don't want a reward, Jack."

"What do you want?"

"I want you to kiss me."

"What?" I blurted out.

"You know, a kiss. You put your lips against my lips and smooch. It doesn't have to be deep or passionate, no tongue, just a common garden variety kiss."

"Penny, I can't."

"Can't, as in physically unable? Your lips aren't functional?"

"No, of course not. It's just that, well, …"

"That I'm a transsexual? You've seen gangster movies, Jack. Those tough guys are always kissing each other on the mouth." She paused. "Hmm, actually, I think that's the kiss of death. Is that it, Jack? You're worried that I have AIDS? I don't and it’s a well established scientific fact you can't get it from saliva. Not that I drool when I kiss. Those select few who have had the privilege haven't complained about my slobbering all over them."

"No, it's not that, really. It's just that, well, you took me by surprise, Penny. I umm, I wasn't, umm, prepared to be, umm, romantic."

"Oh, I see. You need soft music, candlelight and me in a something sexy to get you in the mood, is that it?"

"No," I protested.

"Jack, before I confide in you, I need to know that you accept and trust me. Kiss me and prove it. Otherwise, it's been nice knowing you. I'm going to close my eyes and count to ten. When I open them either you better be smooching or gone. One," she turned towards me and tilted her head, lips slightly parted.

I couldn't afford to lose the fee and I wouldn't get paid, if I didn't find the boy. Penny was really sweet and, certain anatomical issues out of sight, out of mind, she was better looking than most, make that all, of the women I had dated. I leaned forward.

"Five," she counted out loud.

I pressed my lips against hers. She passively accepted the pressure. I pulled back.

"Jack, you have kissed a girl before, haven't you?"

"Yes, of course."

"May I assume that you don't get many second dates with that technique? I want a real kiss, Jack. I will give you another chance. One."

I leaned towards her and this time gave her a peck.

"Better, but the smooch part is still missing. Third time's a charm. One."

I gave her a real kiss.

"Mmm, much better. No permanent physical or psychological damage?" she teased me.

"No, I'm fine, Penny," I conceded, "but you've had your kiss, now how do I find David?"

"What makes you think that she wants to be found, Jack?"

"Penny, that's not fair," I complained. "You said you would tell me where he is."

"No, I was very careful with my words, Jack. I said I would talk to you about what I found and I will, but it's not that simple. Please be patient."

I waited.

"Look at me, Jack. Tell me what you see."

I wasn't anticipating that our conversation would be about Penny. I didn't know if her question was another test or what answer to give, if it was. After some thought, I decided to be truthful, hoping that at least I'd get some points for sincerity, if I was wrong.

"I see an attractive woman."

"Thank you, Jack."

I breathed a sign of relief.

"I'm not sure about the attractive part, but I am a woman. At work, here at Ginger's, shopping for clothes, getting my hair done, I'm Penny."

Her voice quavered. She paused, taking some tissues out of her pocketbook and dabbing at her eyes.

"Sorry, Jack, my hormone replacement therapy makes me overly emotional sometimes," she explained.

Composing herself, she continued.

"I love my parents. They've always tried to be supportive, but when I go home, Jack, to them I'll always be their son. They call me Penny and Mom treats me like she does my sisters, but there's a photo on the bookcase in our family room of Chrissy and Janet on the beach in their cute bikini's and me in my bathing trunks and we have shoe boxes full of photos of our birthdays with them in pretty party dresses and me in pants and a shirt. I wouldn't deprive my parents of those memories, Jack, but that's not me in those photos. My sisters too, Jack. They try very hard to accept me as a woman, but, shopping with Mom for their first bra, commiserating over their periods, doing makeovers, giggling about their crushes on boys, all of those things girls do growing up and that I didn't do with them, I'll always be their brother. Do you understand? These are people who I love dearly and who love me and yet going home is a struggle for me."

I looked at Penny sympathetically, but I couldn't see what it had to do with my finding the Benton's son.

"Now let me tell you about the woman you're trying to find. Her name is Dawn. At least it's the name she took after she completed her drug rehabilitation. Her name on the street when she was working as a prostitute was Tiffany."

Penny picked up on my expression of disbelief.

"Does that surprise you, Jack? A teenage runaway is easy prey. No money, no work experience, what do you think is going to happen to him? Some pimp befriends him, gives him a place to crash, hooks him on drugs and sends him out to turn tricks. There are men who pay premium for sex with a pretty young tranny. A couple of years on the street and you wouldn't recognize her as the boy in the photographs. I didn't. She did. I showed the photos around and Dawn became hysterical when she saw them. Do you have any comprehension of how awful I feel about doing that to her?"

Penny took out the tissues and dabbed at her eyes again. She took a deep breath, paused, took another deep breath, and went on.

"Dawn has worked so hard to create a new life for herself. That was why she chose the name, to symbolize her new beginning. I met her when she was in the hospital. She had OD'd on drugs. When they realized she was transgendered, they called our program. I got her into rehab and have been working with her for the last two years. She has been a tremendous resource, because she knows the street scene and she is passionate about preventing kids from ending up like her."

I didn't know what to say. I just sat there in stunned silence.

"Jack, do you understand now why I told you about my family? Dawn can't go home. It would destroy her and it would destroy her parents. Picture the reunion with their recovering drug addict, ex-prostitute, former adult film actress, did I mention she was forced to perform in some porno movies, HIV positive, unfortunately an occupational hazard, transsexual son?"

"I can't, Penny, but shouldn't that be Dawn's decision?"

"Yes, Jack, and she told me to tell you that she has nothing to say to them and wants nothing from them or to do with them. Her mother may be dying, but so is Dawn, perhaps not as soon, but inevitably. She could go home and punish them with the truth, Jack. She's beyond that, an incredibly strong woman," Penny sniffled and dabbed at her eyes, "she wants both her mother and her to die with no remorse. So, Jack, what will you tell her parents?"

I didn't hesitate.

"I will tell them the truth, Penny."

"What truth is that Jack?"

"That they've lost their son. David has disappeared."

Penny looked at me, tears welled up in her eyes and she broke down. I moved over and took her in my arms to comfort her. She rested her head on my shoulder and sobbed uncontrollably. I held her and gently stroked her hair.

"Penny, I said softly into her ear, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you sad. Please believe me, please."

"Jack, I'm not sad. I'm incredibly happy. Can't you tell the difference?"

"Umm, no, actually, I guess I'm not very good at this kind of thing. If my dates cry, well, this isn't a date, I know that, but anyway, it's usually because I've said or done something to embarrass them, I, umm, I don't exactly have impeccable social skills," I conceded.

"Stupid hormones. I, I can't help it and anyway, it's a woman's prerogative to cry when she's happy and I'm going to take full advantage of my gender. Now if you will stop interrupting me, she sobbed into my shoulder, I can get on with it."

I continued to hold Penny until she began to calm down and the sobs turned into whimpers and finally she relaxed and I reluctantly released her, noticing that the shoulder of my shirt was very wet. Good thing it was permanent press I complimented myself on my wardrobe choice of this morning. She sat up.

"Than you, Jack, for being so understanding," she said in a soft voice, retrieving the tissues and gently blowing her nose."

"Jack, I'm emotionally drained. Would you take me home please?"

"Of course, Penny," I gallantly agreed.

Opening her pocketbook, she took out a compact and opened it, letting out a squeal of dismay when she saw herself in the mirror.

"Oh my God, Jack. I can't be seen in public like this. I look like a raccoon. I should invest in waterproof mascara, but it is such a pain to take off."

She found the tissues, licked one and started to repair her appearance. She produced an impressive collection of cosmetics from her pocketbook and proceeded to apply powders and paints with little brushes and applicators, concentrating on her mirror and oblivious to my admiration for her proficiency, until she finally ran a brush through her hair and pronounced herself presentable. Actually, I was kind of fond of raccoons, but I thought that was probably another of my socially inept comments I would be better off keeping to myself. I stood up and gave her my hand. She took it and stood up, adjusting her blouse and skirt. We went to the door and left, locking it behind us. On our way out, Penny stopped at the bar to return the key to Lola. She must have sensed something, could she have women's intuition, and refrained from her usual provocative patter. I escorted Penny to my car and she gave me directions to her apartment, which was on the other side of town. We drove in silence. I wasn't very good at making small talk with women anyway and understandably she wasn't feeling chatty.

I pulled up in front of her building, got out, went around, opened the door for Penny and she got out.

"Thank you, Jack. I, I appreciate your sensitivity in this matter."

She extended her hand and I took it. She looked at me for a few seconds, gave me a smile, withdrew her hand and started to walk away. I watched her for a minute and then realized that I wasn't going to see her again.

"Penny," I called to her.

She stopped and turned, walking back to me.

"Yes, Jack?" she asked curiously.

"Umm, would you go out with me?"

"Out with you, Jack?"

"Umm, yes, on a date."

"You mean dinner, holding hands, a movie, making out, that kind of date?"

"Yes," I replied without hesitation, "that kind of date."

Penny looked at me and I could see tears starting to form in her eyes again.

"Jack, you are really sweet, but it wouldn't work and I don't want my heart broken."

"Why wouldn't it work, Penny?"

"Think about it, Jack. I'm not the kind of girl you bring home to meet your parents. What would you tell them about me?"

"I'd tell them the truth."

"What truth is that, Jack?"

"That I've found the perfect woman."

Penny broke down again. I assume she was happy and I cuddled her against my chest. I was happy anyway. I've got no complaint about the hormones. Penny was right too. She doesn't give wet kisses, which I found out when she stopped crying.

THE END

Found and Lost
By Missy Crystal

This is the sequel to "Lost and Found." I recommend you read that story first. For those who have, "Found and Lost" explores Jack's relationship with Penny. Can they find happiness together?

I don't know why I asked Penny for a date. She's transgendered and I'm not gay. At least I don't think so. After we went out, I started looking at guys, ones I passed on the street, cautiously, so they wouldn't get the wrong idea, the movie and TV stars that women go nuts over, male models in magazine ads, but I didn't find any of them attractive. Penny was different. Not different that way. Well, okay, yes, different that way too, but I mean different from the usual women I asked out. She was pretty, she was smart, she had a great personality and, most importantly, she said yes, all of the qualities that I looked for in a date. To my surprise, she wasn't kidding when she wanted to know whether by the word 'date' I meant the movies, dinner, holding hands and making out. She really was an old fashioned girl. Kissing was okay and she did let me get to second base, as we used to say as kids, but that was only because the hormones she was on gave her small boobs and the rest of her chest was artificial, so I was free to fondle the enhancers, as she called them. They felt nice, although I would have preferred that she kept the secret to herself and let me indulge my schoolboy fantasy.

After a frustrating few weeks and lots of cold showers, Penny was persuaded that I was serious about having a relationship and she invited me to stay over. We stopped off at Ginger's, the t-girl bar where we first met when I was looking for a transgendered boy who ran away from home, and I had a couple of scotches. Penny had her usual glass of wine and then I drove her home. I had been in her apartment before. It was a really nice one bedroom. She had curtains, a matching living room set, a bed with a spread and lots of decorative pillows and little heart shaped scented soaps in the bathroom. Really high class compared to the dump I lived in. She poured me another glass of scotch, a glass of wine for herself and then went into the bedroom. When she came out, she was dressed in jeans and a pull-over jersey. Something seemed different and then I realized that she was almost flat chested. She must have taken off her bra. I had never seen her in pants before either. Whenever we went out, either she was coming from work and dressed professionally or she wore skirts. I took it as a compliment that she felt comfortable enough to let me see her this way.

Penny sat next to me on the couch and snuggled up, resting her head on my chest. I put my arm around her and she looked up. I leaned down and kissed her. She reached up and put her arm around me neck. We stayed locked in the embrace, kissing passionately, our tongues flickering in and out. I slid my hand over her chest. She didn't protest, so I moved it down and under her top, sliding it back up over her smooth skin until it rested on a soft mound. She moaned. I found a little nipple and gently touched it. She shuddered. I was surprised that it would be so sensitive. Our lips parted and she lay back. I discreetly removed my hand. She gave me a smile, stood up, put out her hand, I took it and she led me into the bedroom.

"Jack, why don't you use the bathroom first?" she suggested. "There's a spare toothbrush and toothpaste in the medicine cabinet."

I gave her the privacy I figured she wanted, closing the door. Actually, I needed to use the facilities and being a considerate lover, brushing my teeth before bed probably was a good idea. I made sure I gave her enough time to do whatever it was she wanted to do and than knocked on the door.

"Okay, if I come out now?" I inquired cautiously.

"Uh, huh," she agreed.

When I came out, she had on a very feminine robe, pink silk or satin or nylon or something shiny, with lacy white trim. She traded places with me in the bathroom. I took off my shirt and pants, pulled back the covers and got in still wearing my undershirt and boxers for modesty. I pulled the covers over me and waited expectantly. About ten minutes later - women take a lot of time in the bathroom - Penny came out. She turned off the light and I noticed that there was a candle glowing on the bureau and giving off a faint lilac scent, very romantic. Penny thought of everything. She dropped her robe. In the dim light, I only caught a nondescript glimpse of flesh and pink panties as she slipped under the covers.

Penny slid over next to me. I hesitated, but she didn't, stroking my chest and nuzzling at my neck. So far, so good. Better than good, actually. I reciprocated and was treated to her soft little mounds with hard nipples, repeating the caresses that got her excited before, with the same effect. She coaxed up my undershirt and I pulled it over my head. As she headed South, I had this awful thought. What if hers was bigger than mine? The passage of her hand below the waistband of my shorts drove that thought out of my head. Making love to someone who you care about and want to please solves the anatomical puzzle of what goes where. As a gentleman, I can't reveal the details. Suffice it to say that vaginas are overrated.

We continued to date. I was surprised by how hard Penny worked. She went to her office early, she often stayed late and she was always going to conferences and seminars. It would have been great if we could live together, but it was easier, at least for her, if she didn't have to deal with fussing over me in the morning, which she insisted on doing and I had no complaints, while trying to get herself ready. We made up for it on the weekends. Everything was going great until one Friday night when the phone rang. Well, it was two o'clock, so that would make it Saturday morning. I didn't give out Penny's home number, but she did give it to her clients and the phone was on her side of the bed anyway. She rolled over, sat up and picked up the receiver.

"Hello? Yes, this is Penny Johnson. Yes, Tri-City. I can't say for sure. The description sounds like Lavender. Can't you ask her? Unconscious, oh. Is it serious? Oh. No, I'm sorry, I don't know her last name. The street girls don't use them or they make them up, like Foxx with two or three x's. I don't know where she lives either. No, we don't keep records. Respecting the girls' privacy is what encourages them to work with us. Now? If you think it will help. Detective O'Brien. Okay. Probably about an hour, maybe less. Yes. Okay. Bye."

I was sitting up. Penny hung up the phone and turned to me.

"I have to go out," she explained. "That was a police officer at City Hospital. They brought in a transsexual, one of the street girls, it sounds like Lavender, I wouldn't be surprised, who was beaten up. She's unconscious and they'd like me to indentify her and see if I can help with their investigation. Honestly, I don't know what I can do besides check with some of the other street girls. Maybe by then Lavender will be awake and I can talk to her. I'm sorry, Honey. Go back to sleep."

She rolled towards me and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

"I'll drive you. I don't want you out at this time of night."

"Really, Jack, Honey, I'll be fine. I'm a big girl and can take care of myself. I don't need a chaperone," she insisted. "Go back to sleep."

"Who's the man of the house," I challenged her.

"Well, last night it might have been debatable," she teased me.

"Penny!"

"Okay, okay, you Tarzan, me Jane, Dear," she conceded.

"It's settled then. I'm driving you."

I got up and started to pull on my pants to emphasize my determination. Penny gave up arguing and started getting dressed, which, as a woman, was a more complicated process. She grabbed her pocketbook and said she would do her makeup in the car. I grabbed her car keys, we usually took hers because it was more likely to get us wherever we were going than my clunker, and we hurried downstairs to the parking lot. We got in and I headed for the hospital. There was no traffic at this time of the morning and we made good time. I parked and we went in the main entrance. Penny must have done this before, because we bypassed the information desk and headed for the elevators. She pressed the button for the CCU on the fifth floor. When we got out, she went to the nurses' station. She spoke to the woman behind the counter and she directed us down the hallway to our left. About six doorways down, I saw a uniformed police officer talking to a man in civilian clothes. I assumed he must be the detective. Penny walked up to him, introduced herself and handed him a business card. They spoke for a minute and he looked over at me. She motioned for me to come over.

"This is Jack Blaine, a private investigator. He works with us," she exaggerated.

I went up and showed him my ID card. The detective looked at me skeptically, probably wondering exactly how Penny managed to get hold of me at 2 AM on such short notice and, with his deductive skills, suspecting that there was probably more to the story. It didn't matter and he turned around, spoke to the uniformed officer, who stepped aside. The detective opened the door and took Penny inside. I followed behind them. There was a hospital bed with IV's set up. At first I thought the woman laying there was black, but as I got closer I could see that it was discolorations from huge bruises covering almost every inch of her face. He eyes and jaw were bandaged. I'd see some pretty brutal beatings, but none like this one. I looked over to Penny and she had turned away in shocked disbelief with her hand over her mouth. The detective escorted her out of the room and helped her to a chair in the hallway.

"I'm sorry, Miss Johnson," the detective apologized, bringing her a paper cup of water, which she took, "but we need to know who she is. Do you recognize her?"

Penny took a few deep breaths, a sip of the water and composed herself.

"Yes, I recognize her. It's Lavender. At least that's her street name. She's one of the t-girls who work the strip. She's been in for counseling in conjunction with her methadone program, which she goes on when she runs out of money for drugs, but she's never really tried to rehabilitate herself."

"Do you have any idea who might have done this too her?"

Penny shook her head.

"The girls mix in with the GG's …"

The detective gave penny a puzzled look.

"GG, genetic girls, women," Penny explained. "The men who solicit them don't always recognize that they're TS, transsexual," she clarified. "The girls want the money and pretend to be having their period or try to talk them into oral, but sometimes the men figure it out and react violently to being tricked. She liked kinky stuff too, bondage, S&M, that kind of thing. I warned her Detective O'Brien. I told her she was asking for trouble, but it didn't do any good," Penny said sadly.

"We found her unconscious in an alley off of the strip," the detective recounted. "Whoever she was with worked her over good, a fractured skull, multiple facial fractures, a fractured jaw, fractured ribs, a ruptured spleen, the retina of her right eye is detached, she will be blind in that eye, and severe head trauma. Her brain's swollen and they put a tube in to relieve the pressure, but the doctor said he doubted she will live. If she does, she'll have severe brain damage," the detective repeated the pessimistic prognosis.

"Do you have any suspects?" Penny asked.

"No, we have no leads. There wasn't any physical evidence at the scene, except for blood on the ground, probably hers. No prints, no semen and no skin or hair under her fingernails, she didn't struggle, so no DNA for us to work with. If she had a pocketbook, it's gone. No money, no keys, nothing on her. Do you know where she lived?"

"No, the street girls like Lavender move around," Penny answered his question. "They stay with a pimp or a friend or flop in a shelter. Usually whatever they make goes up their nose or in their arm. I'll check around," Penny offered. "Maybe one of the other girls saw or heard something. I'm sorry, but that's all I can do to help. You have my card. Call me if you need anything else or if there are any developments, please."

"I will, Miss Johnson. Thank you for coming down at this hour. I'm sorry to get you involved."

"No problem, Detective O'Brien, you're only doing your job," Penny acknowledged, "and I'm doing mine. Goodnight to you and the officer."

The officer and Detective O'Brien reciprocated and we left. On the drive home, Penny was quiet. In her apartment, we got back in bed and I gently held her. There was nothing more to say and we finally drifted off to sleep. When I woke about nine o'clock, Penny wasn't in bed. I got up and went to the kitchen. She was there, already dressed and making breakfast.

"I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking of poor Lavender," she explained. "Jack, nobody deserves to have that done to them." "I'm going to start checking, but I wanted to make you breakfast before I left. You were really sweet to go with me last night," she said with a little smile which quickly faded. "I don't want whoever did this to Lavender to get away with it."

I took a sip of coffee.

"Look, Penny. The girls you need to talk to work nights and sleep days. You won't find any of them. Why don't we just spend the day together and then tonight we can go to Ginger's and then later check out the strip," I suggested.

"I guess you're right, but I don't want to stay home." Penny thought for a minute. "I'm going down to the hospital and see how Lavender's doing," she decided.

"From what I saw last night, Lavender's not going to be conscious. If you want to know her condition, you can call."

"Yes, but I've read where people who are in comas sometimes come out of them when they hear a familiar voice. It couldn't hurt, Jack," she challenged me.

"No, you're right. It couldn't hurt," I conceded. Let me get dressed and I'll go with you," I offered.

"No, Honey. It's daytime and I'll be fine. Save your energy for tonight. You're the investigator, so I could use your help. Okay?"

"Okay," I agreed, "but call me if there's anything you need, please."

"I will."

She picked up her pocketbook, took the car keys and left. I went back into the bedroom and got dressed. There really wasn't much for me to do on a Saturday morning. I went down in the elevator and swiped someone's newspaper from the lobby. I returned to the apartment and went through it, looking for any news about Lavender. There was a short article in the Metro section about a homeless woman who had been beaten and that police were investigating. I suppose that was accurate as to her living situation, if not as to her occupation. Then again, the police don't usually release detailed information. I turned on the TV and watched sports, waiting for Penny to return. About three o'clock she called. There was nothing new. She wasn't going to have time to make dinner, so would I order out. I talked her into pizza, because they delivered. I had nothing else to do, so I demonstrated my domestic skills by setting the table, although I was darned if I could remember whether the knife went to the left or the right of the fork and spoon. Then again, why did we need a spoon to eat pizza?

After dinner, we went to Ginger's. The word was out about Lavender. Everyone was sympathetic, but nobody had any information. About eleven o'clock we went to the strip. Cars would pull up as we were talking to a girl and she would interrupt the conversation to do business. Nobody heard or saw anything and none of them recalled anyone who got rough with them. We got back to Penny's apartment about one o'clock and went to sleep. Having wasted the night, neither of us was in the mood for romance. Sunday was a repeat of Saturday. Penny was up early, she went to the hospital and I hung around the apartment. At least the Sunday paper I swiped from the lobby had a decent crossword puzzle. There was no mention of Lavender. That night we tried talking to the girls on the strip again, but without any luck. I dropped Penny off at her apartment and went back to my place.

Monday went as usual, until I got a call from Penny about three o'clock.

"Hi, Honey."

"Hi, Penny, how are you?"

"I'm okay."

"Any word on Lavender?"

"No, she's still unconscious and the police still don't have any suspects. That's why I'm calling."

"Oh, I thought it was because of my irresistible charm and good looks," I said with mock disappointment.

"That too, Dear, but you do surveillance work and we, that is I and some of the girls, well, we thought it would be a good idea if we hired you to keep an eye on them for a few nights, in case whoever beat up Lavender comes back."

"Hired me?" I asked skeptically.

"Yes, I have a small discretionary budget that I could draw against and the girls offered to put in some money. It wouldn't be much. How much do you charge?"

"For that kind of work, I get five hundred a night minimum, plus the cost of the film and developing, but I'm easy. We could take it out in sexual favors."

"And exactly who are 'we,' Jack Dear?" Penny asked coyly.

"Umm, you and the girls?" I answered tentatively.

"Yes, well, I suppose it could be arranged, although I'm not sure how much you will enjoy it after your INSGR.

"What's that?" I asked naively, never being able to remember what the different initials stood for.

"Involuntary non-surgical gender reassignment."

"Oh, well, in that case, I suppose we could continue with our current arrangement."

"Are you sure, Jack?"

"Yes, I'm very sure, Penny," retention of my manhood being a high priority, "but there is a problem."

"You want fringe benefits too?"

"No, well yes, but, seriously, that's not the problem. When I do surveillance for a client, it's usually just sitting outside a building watching for a particular man or woman. That's a lot different than trying to keep an eye on a whole street where there's lots going on. It's dark, the men don't get out of the cars, the girls bend over to talk to them and there's not much that you can record except the license tags. I'm not saying I won't do it or I can't do it. I'm just telling you that it is not going to be very effective for one person to be the guardian angel for the whole strip. There's also a practical problem," I continued. "The girls come out when it gets dark and they work until the early morning hours. It's one thing if you're in a hotel room with a video camera pointed out the window and watching on a TV monitor. It's another when you're in a car taking pictures. I can't sit out there all night. I would guess that between nine and one would be the most traffic, that's four hours, which is about as long as I can handle, but it still leaves a big window of opportunity for someone to repeat what they did to Lavender."

"Are you saying it's not worth it?"

"No, it's worth a shot, but you and the girls need to know that it's a long shot."

"Thank you, Jack. I, we, really appreciate it."

"No problem. I'll be around this weekend to collect."

"And I'll be sure the payroll department is expecting for you."

"Bye, Honey," she laughed and hung up.

I got my high-tech surveillance equipment together. An old fashioned Nikon camera with a 300mm telephoto lens, they do the best job at night, with ultra high speed black and white film you can shoot a firefly's bellybutton at a hundred yards, an old sleeping bag with a broken zipper to keep me warm and a two gallon jug for coffee. I opened the top and found a mess of black gunk, confirming my lack of domestic skills. I took the jug into the restroom and washed it out a dozen or so times, until it no longer smelled like the inside of an old gym sneaker. I went back to my office and made a call to Detective O'Brien. He wasn't in, so I left him a voice mail that I had been hired to do a surveillance job on the strip and gave him a description of my car and plate number, so I wouldn't get hassled by the police patrol.

I finished up my work, put everything in my car and went back to my apartment to put on warm clothes. I took some paper towels and window cleaner to make sure I got a clear shot through the windshield. On my way to the strip, I stopped at a donut shop and got the jug filled with high octane java. I also picked up a half dozen assorted jelly donuts. Penny was into healthy food and my system needed something from the round, sugar covered, jelly filled food group so I wouldn't get rickets or something. That might not have been medically accurate, but it was a good excuse and what she didn't know about my diet wouldn't require me to repent with tofu and bean sprouts for the rest of the week.

I drove to the strip and parked where I had a good view of the girls. They lounged against the buildings or stood in doorways, moving to the curb when a car pulled up, sometimes getting in and sometimes walking away, which I assumed meant they couldn't come to terms. I took a shot of the plates, but I couldn't coordinate the girl and the tag in the same photo. At best, if something happened, I would have a record of who was looking for a good time over the course of a few hours that night. It would be a start and it would embarrass a lot of men, who I was sure would not want anyone, especially their wives, to know about their extra-curricular activities, but it wouldn't prove who was responsible. Well, it was for a good cause, whether or not it accomplished anything. By one thirty I had gone through almost three rolls of film. I was surprised by how much traffic there was for a weekday night. I guess there's no schedule for being horny. I started the car and drove back to my apartment.

The next night was a waste of time and film too. Since nothing happened, I saved some money by not developing the rolls. I just marked the cartridges with the date and put them away. I decided to take a break and come back on the weekend. That was when Lavender got beaten up and it was more likely whoever did it would follow the same pattern. I told Penny and she agreed. Since I was going to be working Friday and Saturday nights, I wouldn't be able to see her. Penny kept going to the hospital every evening, but Lavender never regained consciousness. According to the doctors, she was in what they called a permanent vegetative state. Lavender was as good as dead and whoever did it was going to get away with it. Probably they were boozed up or high on drugs and outraged at being tricked into having sex with a guy, like Penny said happens. All in all, it sucked.

Things returned to normal, at least as normal as it ever got, until about a month later. I got a call from Penny telling me that Dawn had seen her mother's obituary in the newspaper. She wanted Penny to go with her to the service on Friday and to the cemetery. She was just giving me advance notice that she wouldn't be around Friday night. She wanted to stay with Dawn. I offered to go too. Penny wasn't sure it was a good idea.

"You told Dr. Benton that you couldn't find his son. Won't it seem strange if you suddenly show up with her at the funeral?" she wondered.

"No," I reasoned. "I told him that I knew a woman who worked in the transgendered community. Dawn contacted her about the funeral, she recognized that Dawn was who I was looking for, she called me and I brought her to him. That was what he paid me to do. It will be easier if I make the introduction than if Dawn just walks up to him and announces, 'Daddy, I'm home,' don't you think?"

"I suppose, if you put it that way, yes. Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. What time should I pick you up?"

We worked out the details. Dawn was going to take a cab to the church and we were going to meet her. Then we would drive to the cemetery together. On Friday, I got out a pair of dark pants and a dark blue sports jacket, which was as close to a suit as I could get. I drove over to Penny's and we changed to her car. She had on a dark blue skirt and jacket. It took us about twenty-five minutes to get to the church. Dawn was waiting outside in a long sleeved black dress. I hadn't seen Dawn for a long time. She looked terrible. Her eyes were yellow and her skin was too. I looked at Penny and she shook her head. We went in. I saw Dr. Benton at the front of the church. Dawn wanted to be inconspicuous, so we sat in the back row.

After the service, we left quickly. We didn't join in the motorcade to the cemetery, so we got there after the graveside service had started and waited until it was over. When most of the mourners had paid their respects and left, I went up to Dr. Benton. He recognized me.

"Mr. Blaine, this is unexpected. Thank you for coming."

"You're welcome Dr. Benton, my condolences. Actually, I'm here because I found your son."

Dr. Benton's face dropped.

"David, how, when?" he stammered.

"The name she has been using is Dawn, Dr. Benton. She saw your wife's death notice in the paper and contacted Penny, the woman I had spoken to when I was looking for her. She got in touch with me and I brought her here."

I stood back. Penny and Dawn walked up to Dr. Benton.

"Hello, father," Dawn greeted him.

Dr. Benton scowled at Dawn.

"I don't know you," he claimed.

Dawn's face dropped and tears welled up. Dr. Benton stepped back.

"I, I'm, sorry father," Dawn apologized, "I know I've disappointed you. I'm not well and I was hoping, I was hoping that when I died I could be buried with mother," she entreated him.

"There is no place for you here," he said coldly and walked away.

I clenched my fists, about to follow him and beat the crap out of the bastard. Penny must have sensed my anger and firmly held my arm. I looked at her and she shook her head.

"There's been enough heartbreak here today. Let him grieve the loss of his wife and his son, Jack. He wouldn't understand and it would only add to Dawn's guilt."

Of course, she was right. I calmed down.

"Let's go home."

She took Dawn's arm and we walked silently to the car. Dawn got in the back seat and I drove. After about ten minutes, Dawn spoke in a soft voice.

"Penny."

"Yes, Dawn."

"Penny, when I die, will you make the arrangements please?"

"Dawn, don't talk like that."

"Will, you Penny, please? I need to know."

"Yes, Dawn," Penny agreed with a sigh, unable to deny her request.

"Thank you. I want to be cremated. This body is wrong for me. I've always hated it and now it's filled with poison."

"Dawn, no more, please," Penny pleaded with her.

"And my ashes, Penny, will you scatter them on my mother's grave please," she continued. "I want to be with her. Promise me, Penny."

I had a knot in my stomach.

"Yes, Dawn, I promise," Penny committed.

"Thank you."

We drove the rest of the way in silence. When we arrived at Dawn's rooming house, I got out and opened the door for her. Penny got out and started to follow. Dawn stopped her.

"Please Penny, I appreciate your concern, but I really need to be alone. I'm tired, very tired," she emphasized. "I want to make myself a cup of tea and go to bed."

Penny gave in to Dawn's request for solitude and returned to the car.

"Please make sure to call me on Monday," Penny called out to her.

Dawn nodded and went in. We drove back to Penny's apartment. Neither of us was in the mood for conversation or romance. The rest of the weekend was somber. I offered to take Penny to a movie, but she said she had work to do and went to the office. I moped around the apartment. Monday, I was at my office when the phone rang.

"Jack Blaine investigations. Jack Blaine speaking. How may I help you," I answered professionally.

"Jack, it's Sally."

Sally was Penny's assistant.

"Can you come down to the office, please? She needs you."

"Is she okay? What's wrong? Is it serious? Did something happen with one of her clients?"

"She's okay and yes, something happened. You really need to come down."

"I'm on my way."

I ran at least half a dozen red lights. It's a miracle I wasn't stopped and arrested. I got to Penny's office in record time and rushed in. Penny was at her desk, her head down, sobbing. I went over and tried to be supportive.

"What's wrong, Honey? Please, tell me. Is it Lavender? Let me help."

She sat up, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"No, it's Dawn. She's dead. I didn't hear from her this morning, so I sent one of the girls around to check. There was no answer. She got the landlady and they opened her room. Oh, Jack, they found her in the bathtub with her wrists slit. She let all the poison out."

Penny started sobbing again. I put my arm around her and held her against my chest. About five minutes passed and she began to recover.

"I have to make arrangements, Jack. I promised her," Penny insisted.

She took some tissues, dried her eyes and blew her nose. Then she got her purse, took out her mirror and fussed with her face. When she finally considered herself presentable, she called Sally in and gave her instructions.

"I'm okay now, Jack. Thank you for coming."

"Is there anything I can do, Penny?"

"No, Honey, I'll talk to you later," she dismissed me and picked up the phone.

I started to leave and then turned round.

"Penny, I kept fifteen hundred dollars of the fee Dr. Benton paid me to find Dawn. I have about nine hundred dollars left. I don't want it. Please use it for her funeral."

"Jack, no, you earned it. It belongs to you. Lola is taking up a collection."

"I wish I had it all, Penny, but what's left is blood money." I winced at the reference, remembering how Dawn died. "Use it," I threatened, "or I will donate it to an AIDS charity."

Penny gave me a loving look and nodded her head.

"I'll write a check to you when I get back to my office," I told her as I was leaving.

Penny found a minister who worked with her program to hold a memorial service and took care of all of the other details necessary for Dawn's funeral. To my surprise, the church was filled. Penny gave a moving eulogy. After the service, a number of us drove out to the cemetery where Dawn's mother was buried.

Everyone gathered at the gravesite and Penny had a small cardboard box with 'Dawn Benton' printed in marker on the side. She unsealed it, held it over the grave and turned it over. A gentle rain of ashes fell out and most were wafted away, a few falling on the grass, together with some small white chips of bone. They dropped down and I thought about how the remains would be washed into the soil and make the grass green. Dawn would have liked that. I discreetly used my sleeve to wipe my nose and dab at my eyes. An entire life in a small cardboard box; I wondered what you did with it after it was empty. Of course, Penny was prepared. She took a lighter out of her pocketbook, held the box out and set it on fire, waiting until most of it was consumed and then letting it fall, the smoke curling up as the remnants blackened and crumbled. Everyone brought a bouquet, which they placed on the ground. We all said our final goodbyes to Dawn and went back to our cars. As we were leaving, I wondered what Dr. Benton would think about the mound of flowers and the tiny patch of burnt grass if he came to visit his wife's grave.

We drove in silence. About half way back, I couldn't control my feelings any longer.

"Penny, I can't go on like this. Please, we need to go away. Somewhere, anywhere, I don't care, just away from all this."

"You mean take a vacation, Jack?"

"No, I don't mean a vacation, Penny."

I paused, gathering my courage.

"I love you. I want us to go somewhere and start a life together, a normal life."

"Are you proposing to me, Jack?"

"Yes," I said without hesitation.

"I love you too, Jack, with all my heart, but I can't marry you."

"You mean you're not physically able?" I mimicked what she asked me when I said I couldn't kiss her.

"Yes, same sex marriages aren't legal in this state, but it's not that. There have been other men. I never talked about them, because they're not important. I didn't love them and they didn't love me. I don't know why they were attracted. I suspect that they were gay or bi and I was a comfortable way for them to avoid the reality. Jack, you gave me a gift more precious than a diamond and more enduring than a gold band. You made me a complete woman by loving me for who I am, not what I am."

"You're talking in riddles, Penny."

"I never thought I would have the kind of true love between a man and a woman that makes them want to have a child together, Jack."

"Is that it? For crying out loud, Penny!" I exclaimed with relief. "It doesn't matter to me. I'd be the world's worst father anyway."

Then I realized that maybe she wanted to have children.

"We can always adopt. I suppose I could learn to be a parent," I equivocated.

"No, it's not about having children. I was talking about commitment."

She gave a little laugh.

"Penny, please don't make fun of me. I'm serious."

"I know, Jack. I was trying to explain my reason and I had a random thought about Spiderman. You know who he is?"

"Of course, but what does a comic book character have to do with this?"

"When he first discovers his abilities, he realizes that with his powers comes the responsibility to use them to help others. It's really an adaptation of an admonition from the Bible that to whomever much is given, a blessing of any kind, from them much is expected. I've been given a gift, Jack. I'm transgendered and by my education and ability, I can help others like me. I can't make a commitment to our happiness at their expense."

"If Dawn and Lavender are examples, you're gift isn't working," I confronted her.

"That's not fair, Jack."

"All's fair in love and war, Penny, and I'm fighting for your love."

Penny was surprised by my unexpected eloquence. So was I.

"You have my love, Jack, forever and always, but you're wrong. Lavenderwas self-destructive and drugs or her lifestyle was going to kill her. It was inevitable. Dawn was a success. I touched her life and she touched the lives of many others. You saw the turnout for her funeral. She was very sick, her liver was failing and every day was a struggle. The only thing that kept her going was the hope that her father might change his mind before her mother died. When she did, there was nothing more to sustain her. I gave her comfort and peace, Jack."

By the time Penny finished, we had reached her apartment building and I pulled into the parking lot.

"Penny, please, can't we at least try? There have to be other ways for you to use your gift."

She shook her head.

"It wouldn't work and eventually you would say the words that would shatter my heart into a million pieces and no amount of remorse or contrition would mend it."

"What words, Penny. I don't understand."

"That you regret loving someone like me, Jack."

"No, I …"

She placed her fingers over my mouth and shook her head. Sliding over, she opened the car door and got out. I watched her walk away. Think Jack, damn it. You do crossword puzzles. Find the words, but there weren't any. Maybe she was right after all, I consoled myself. Her hormones were starting to get to me. Men don't cry.

THE END

Lost and Found Again
By Missy Crystal

This is the final part of the Lost and Found Series. Although it can be read on its own, I recommend reading the first two parts ("Lost and Found" and "Found and Lost") for context. For those who have followed the story, but forgotten it, for which delay in completion I apologize, Jack Blaine is an investigator hired to find a transgendered boy who left home. While searching the transgendered community, he meets Penny Johnson, the transgendered director of a GLBT outreach program. Jack falls in love with Penny, but their relationship ends when he asks her to marry him and give up her work. She turns down his proposal and they break up. Now Jack realizes he made a mistake and sets out to win her back. Can they find hapiness togther? The conclusion of a romantic novel.

I went back to my apartment and tried to get some sleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about Penny. I loved her and she loved me. When two people love each other they get married. When you love someone, Jack, I reprimanded myself, you don’t ask them to give up something that’s important to them. Penny was right. The concession did not help my insomnia.

I moped around for the next few days. Each time the phone rang, I grabbed it hoping it would be Penny. Why should she call you Jack? What would she say to you? “Hi, honey, of course I’ll give up my career and everything I’ve worked for to be your wife.” You’re the one who needs to apologize. Okay, but what will you say to her? “Sorry, just kidding?” You weren’t kidding. You know it and she does too.

Insincerity will not win a girl’s heart, Jack. Candy, flowers and expensive presents might work for most women, but not Penny. No, I didn’t mean it like it sounded. It’s not that she’s not a woman. Well, okay, she’s not a woman, sort of, but even if she was, well, she is, sort of, she wouldn’t care about those things. She’s a different kind of woman. No, not different that way. Well, okay, different that way too, but I meant her values. She cares about other people. You think only about yourself. You need to show her that you care about people too, if you want her back.

How do you do that? You could go down to the Red Cross and give blood. That’s a good cause. Yes, spending fifteen minutes on a cot bleeding into a bottle would certainly impress her. Just as well anyway, Jack. You hate needles. What about volunteering at a shelter? Too easy. You need something that requires real commitment. You’re not doing this for her. You’re doing it for you. If you can’t, then she’s right. You don’t have a future together.

I kept myself busy with my work. Each night I was tempted to drop in at Ginger’s. I mean, it’s a free country right? A guy can stop off for a drink at a t-girl bar on his way home, can’t he? If someone in particular happened to be there too, well, small world. “Oh, hi, Penny. Fancy meeting you here?” Right, Jack, like she wouldn’t see right through you. You’d have to deal with Lola and the other t-girls too. Did they know that you and Penny broke up? I doubted it. Penny wouldn’t discuss her personal life with them. Even so, they must be wondering why she hasn’t been coming in with you lately. Was she going by herself? Probably. They’re her friends. It wouldn’t take much for them to put two and two together, or one minus one. If so, then I was fair game. That was another complication in my life I didn’t need.

The funny thing, or at least the frustrating thing, was that I had lost my interest in other women. I’d see an attractive woman on the street and all I could do was compare her to Penny. I checked out guys too, just to see if perhaps my tastes had changed, but they hadn’t. I had to find some way to demonstrate my change of heart and it had to be soon or I was going to go nuts having these conversations with myself.

Each night I would go back to my apartment and nuke some dinner while remembering how insistent Penny was about eating healthy. Well, Jack, maybe if you kill yourself with cholesterol she will be sorry. Unfortunately, her remorse over your self-inflicted coronary will do you no good. After dinner, I’d pour myself a large scotch to drown my sorrows and watch TV until I went to bed. Then one night I saw a commercial about abused animals. I liked animals, but they only wanted money. Spare time I had; spare money I didn’t.

Just as I was about to hit the power button on the remote and spend one more sleepless night, there was a commercial about being a big brother or big sister. I could do that. Of course, the commercial was over before I could write down the number. They had to be in the phone book. I had no idea what I did with the phone book. I rummaged around, but couldn’t find it. I had one in my office. Tomorrow I would call and soon Penny would be back in my arms or, better yet, my bed or, even better yet, her kitchen. My arteries and other vital parts of me were overjoyed. I turned out the lights and dreamed of Penny in a white bridal apron. I can’t help my imagination when I’m asleep.

As soon as I got to my office, I got the phone book. It took a little of my superb investigative skills to find the right organization. It was called Big Brothers Big Sisters. I punched in the numbers. A pleasant female voice answered.

“Hello, Big Brothers Big Sisters, how may I help you?”

“Umm, well, umm, I was thinking, umm, I would like to join or whatever. You know be a big brother.”

“Wonderful,” she responded reassuringly. “You will find it a very rewarding experience. May I have your name, please.”

“Jack.”

“You last name, please, Jack.”

“Oh, Blaine, Jack Blaine.”

“Thank you, Mr. Blaine. May I have your address, please.”

“My home or office?

“Wherever you’d like us to send the application form.”

“I have to apply?”

“Yes, Mr. Blaine, Jack, we’re a social service agency and we have to screen our volunteers before we match them with a child. I’m sure you can understand the need for us to be careful when putting adults together with children.”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

I wondered if my having a transgendered girlfriend would disqualify me. It didn’t seem like the time to ask. I gave her my office address.

“Thank you. You should be receiving an application form in the mail in the next few days. Please fill it out and return it. One of our social workers will be in touch with you for an interview. Being a big, that’s what we call the men and women who volunteer, is going to be a very rewarding experience.”

She laughed. “I already said that, but it’s true. You’ll see. Thank you Mr. Blaine, Jack. Please call back if you have any questions about completing the application. Goodbye.”

“Bye,” I replied and hung up.

Perfect. In a few days I would be a big, as the woman called it, take a kid out for a burger and ice cream and everything would be back to normal. Okay, things were never normal, but back to the way they were. The kid wins, I win, we all get what we want. Does he, Jack? Do you? This isn’t a game. It’s a child’s life. You can’t just use him. Penny would never respect you for that. Even with your low standards you wouldn’t respect yourself. Maybe you shouldn’t do this. Well, you probably won’t qualify anyway and that will solve the problem. There’s no harm in applying I assured myself.

The application arrived and I immediately began to fill it out. In addition to the basic information, it wanted three people who had known me for at least two years as references for my character and reputation. I supposed that “known” was a relative term, so long as they were comfortable vouching for me. I put down the name of an attorney who used me as his investigator and a police detective who I helped out occasionally with tips from my contacts.

I gave it a lot of thought and for the third reference I put down Penny. She didn’t qualify as to how long she had known me, but I was sure that her being a social worker would make the difference. I also expected that they would contact my references and I wanted her to know that I was applying . Two birds with one stone, so to speak. Three birds, if you count the disclosure of my relationship with her. Would she reveal that she was transgendered? I suppose she would, if she thought it was relevant. Was it? I guess she’d know better than anyone.

I kept waiting for the call back. After a week passed without hearing from them, I assumed that they had decided I wasn’t suitable and didn’t want to waste their time talking to me. You’d think that at least they’d have the courtesy to write me a rejection letter, I complained to myself. When the phone did ring, I answered it as a regular business call.

“Jack Blaine investigative services,” I announced. “How may we help you?”

“Jack Blaine, please.”

“Speaking.”

“Mr. Blaine, this is Betsy Sidman at Big Brothers Big Sisters. I would like to make an appointment for an intake interview. When would it be convenient?”

“I, umm, well, actually, my schedule is flexible, Ms., ah, umm, Ms. Sidman. I work for myself and I can come in pretty much any time.”

“Would tomorrow at two o’clock be too soon?”

“No, tomorrow at two would be fine.”

“Do you know where we are located?”

“Where I mailed the application, is that right?”

“Yes. Two o’clock tomorrow. I’m looking forward to meeting you.”

“Me too. Do I need to bring anything?”

“No. Oh, you’ll need a driver’s license or photo ID to get through the security desk in the lobby and we also need it to verify your identity.”

“No problem. See you tomorrow. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

Okay, Jack, you’re on a roll, I congratulated myself. Then I realized that was how my clothes looked, like I had been rolled. I finished up the report I was working on and hurried back to my apartment. Did I have a clean shirt? Damn, no. They were all in a pile on the floor. Maybe I could steam the wrinkles out in the shower. I picked out the one that had the best chance of rehabilitation. A sniff told me that it needed more than moisture to be wearable.

For crying out loud. Where is Penny when I need her. She is the one who made sure I had clean clothes. How am I supposed to get her back if I need her to help me to get her back? Pull yourself together Jack, I ordered myself. Take a deep breath and think. Why in the world did you say okay to tomorrow and leave yourself no time to get ready? Call what’s her name, Betsy, and tell her something came up and you need to postpone the interview. Brilliant, except you want to go tomorrow. The cleaners. Of course. They can have it ready by tomorrow afternoon. You might as well take your slacks and sport jacket to be pressed too. There, Jack, you see. If you think calmly, you can solve any problem.

All that was left was to find a tie that didn’t have an obvious stain and to shine my shoes. Since I only wore a tie when I had to go to court for a client, they were in pretty good shape. I didn’t have any shoe polish, but there was a shoemaker on the way to the cleaners. I got everything together and dropped off the clothes. I stopped at the shoemaker’s on the way home. Back at my apartment, I celebrated by ordering Chinese takeout. In deference to Penny, I told them to hold the MSG. I poured myself a glass of scotch to celebrate the solution to my wardrobe problem and await the delivery of my dinner.

I set my alarm for six a.m. to be sure that I had enough time to shower, shave and stop at the cleaners. Everything went perfectly and at one thirty an impressive me was heading for the address of Big Brothers Big Sisters. I showed my license at the security desk. The security officer checked my name against the visitor’s list and handed me a temporary pass card. He directed me to the elevators and told me to get off at the ninth floor. I got to the office about ten minutes early, but I thought that it would show both reliability and enthusiasm. The security officer had called up, so the receptionist was expecting me. She buzzed the door open.

“Mr. Blaine,” good afternoon she greeted me.

“Hi. I have an appointment with Ms. Sidman.”

“Yes. I notified her that you’re here. She should be out shortly. Please have a seat.”

I sat down. The receptionist went back to typing and answering calls. It seemed like a very busy place. I could hear only bits of her conversation with callers. Mostly, just names or an occasional message to have someone call back. I waited anxiously. I glanced at my watch. It was five of two. A few minutes later, a door opened and a young woman came out. I sized her up as in her late twenties, average height, short reddish brown hair and dark eyes, attractive by my standards, and casually dressed in slacks and a sweater.

She extended her right hand. “Good afternoon, Mr. Blaine. I’m Betsy Sidman. Please follow me.”

She turned and went to the door, using a key card to open it and holding it for me to go in. We went down a corridor and into a small office. She directed me to one of the chairs in front of the desk, went around and sat down. She opened a manilla folder. I could see that my name was on the tab.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Blaine. May I call you Jack?”

“Yes.”

“Well, Jack. I must say your references spoke highly of you. I was pleasantly surprised to have the opportunity to speak with Ms. Johnson. As you might imagine, it’s a small community of social workers and I have listened to her speak. How is it that you know her?”

Using my deductive skills, since she was asking the question, I assumed that Penny had not volunteered any details of our relationship or ex-relationship. I didn’t think that now was the time to get into it.

‘We, umm, I, umm, met her when I was working on a case and we became friends,” I summarized.

That must have satisfied her, because she moved on without any comment.

“I have some standard questions we ask all of our prospective volunteers. May I start?”

“Yes, go ahead.”

She went through a list, noting my answers. Most of the information she wanted was innocuous. How long had I lived at my address? What kind of work did I do? Where did I go to school? What was my religious affiliation, if any? Everything was going great until she asked the one question I feared.

“Jack, would you tell me your sexual orientation, please?”

Uh oh. Think fast, Jack. “I though you couldn’t ask that,” I challenged her.

“An employer can’t in most cases, but we don’t have any such restriction in screening volunteers. We don’t discriminate, but it’s up to us whether you are a suitable match. Once we accept you into the program, it is up to the child’s parent, usually the mother. She has a right to know about the person who she is trusting with her son.” She gave me a reassuring smile. “It’s up to you, Jack,. You don’t have to answer the question, but, if you don’t, it will be difficult to place you.”

“I understand, Ms Sidman.”

“Betsy, please,” she interrupted me.

“Betsy, it’s not that I don’t want to answer the question. It’s that I don’t know how to answer the question.”

“The answer to the question is to say that I am straight or I am gay.” She paused. “Oh, do you mean that you’re bisexual?”

“No, not bisexual. Just sexual, but it’s complicated. You mentioned that you spoke with Penny Johnson.”

“Yes,” she replied curiously.

“Do you know that she’s transgendered?”

“Yes.” Her eyes went wide. “You, you’re not?”

“Transgendered,” I finished her question. “No. I am what I was born, a male.”

“Oh, then I don’t see what that has to do with your difficulty in answering the question.”

“You asked me how I knew her.”

“Yes.”

“I told you that we met when I was working on a case. That was true, but it became more than that. I’m in love with her. I asked her to marry me. Now do you see the problem? Am I gay, because the person I love was born male, or am I straight, because she considers herself a woman and so do I?”

Betsy smiled again.

“I can’t help you with the philosophical answer, but I can with the clerical one. I write down whatever you tell me. Pick one and we can go on to complete your interview.”

“I consider myself straight.”

She made a note and looked up.

“I hope you won’t think that I’m being too nosey, but are congratulations in order?”

“You mean on being accepted as a volunteer?”

She shook her head.

“No, on getting married.”

“Oh, no, it, it didn’t work out.”

“I’m sorry, Jack.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m sure you will be relieved to know that we’re done with the interview. I need you to sign some release forms that will let us check your criminal record. I told you, we need to be thorough in screening our volunteers.”

“No problem. As a licensed private investigator I have to have a clean record. You’re welcome to check.”

She handed me the forms. I signed them and gave them back.

“The last item is the agreement which says you’ll follow our policies and procedures. They’re simple. So many visits per month, common courtesy with regard to notifying us and the family about any problem and keeping us advised as to how things are going. Sign here please.”

I took the pen she offered and signed the form.

“That’s it, Jack. It can take a week or two before we get the background check completed. I will call you as soon as we hear back. Thank you, Jack. It’s been a pleasure.”

She came around the desk and extended her hand. I stood up and shook it.

“Likewise.”

She went to the door and opened it to escort me to the elevator.

As I was leaving, she asked me, “Jack, does your volunteering have anything to do with Ms. Johnson? You don’t have to tell me. It’s not part of the interview, but it is important in making a match. I don’t want to put you together with a boy who is emotionally fragile if you’re doing this just to impress her and not going to follow through.”

She must have seen from my startled expression that she was right. The woman was obviously good at her job. The was no point in trying to be evasive.

“Yes, that is the reason.”

“Thank you for being honest, Jack. Please understand that a volunteer’s motive is not important. Even doing something good for the wrong reason can have its benefits.”

“It’s not like that, Betsy. I do want to impress Penny, Ms. Johnson, but not by volunteering. Our relationship ended because I asked her to give up her work and lead what I foolishly thought could be a normal life for us. Penny knew better. Now I need to prove to myself I can be a different person. One who understands and accepts the kind of commitment she has to the people she helps. That is what will impress her. At least I hope it will.”

“I hope so too, Jack. If it does, can I come to the wedding?” she lightened the conversation.

“If it works, you can be maid of honor.”

She held up her left hand and wiggled her finger to show me her wedding ring.

“Matron of honor, maybe, but that’s up to the bride. Will you put in a good word?”

“Better than that. If you help me make this work, you can be the best man. That position is still vacant and under the circumstances I don’t think being a GG disqualifies you. You know what that is?”

She laughed.

“Ms. Johnson put on a training seminar for us. Yes.”

Betsy escorted me to the reception area, we said goodbye again and I left. Now that it was over, I was really excited about becoming a big brother or Big. I had to start using the jargon. It was still working hours, so I went back to my office to check my messages. There was nothing urgent. All I had to do was wait for a call. I wondered who I would get for a little. I hoped he wouldn’t be too young. I wasn’t very good with little kids. I’d just have to wait and see.

Two weeks went by and I was getting impatient. And horny. The idea of going down to Ginger’s was becoming more appealing. Then again, I remembered Penny’s warning about my undergoing INSGR, involuntary non-surgical gender reassignment, if she caught me with one of the other t-girls. Patience, Jack. All good things come to he who waits and Penny was worth waiting for.

Wednesday of the third week I got the call. I had been approved and Betsy had a match for me. The boy’s name was Dimitri. He was nine years old and his mother emigrated from Russia three years ago. His father stayed behind to care for his elderly parents. The boy’s mother felt that it was important for him to spend time with a man. Would I like her to arrange a meeting?

I asked her if she had any more information. Did he like sports? I was concerned that I’d get a boy who belonged to the chess club and took violin lessons. Don’t get me wrong. I’m as much in favor of culture as the next guy, but I thought that it would be difficult to find activities we both enjoyed. Betsy said that she had done her best to match my profile from her interview. Did I want to meet him she repeated. Yes, I told her, please set up a meeting. Okay, she’d call me back. Was my schedule still flexible. Yes, it was.

The next afternoon I got a call from Betsy. Since the boy was in school, the meeting had to be on a weekend. Was I free on Saturday morning. I was. She said that she preferred the first meeting to be outside the home, a neutral environment, usually a restaurant that was kid friendly. I suggested the coffee shop across the street from my office. It had an inexpensive breakfast menu and was relatively quiet. I gave her the address. She said she would set up the meeting. I should be there at 10 o’clock, unless she called with a change of plans. I asked if there was anything I should bring with me. A present for the boy maybe or something for the mother. No, I shouldn’t do anything that might influence their decision.

At least this time I could make myself presentable before the meeting. That evening I checked my wardrobe, a rather generous term for three pairs of pants and a half dozen shirts. Maybe if you included a dark brown sports coat, three ties that almost went with it and a pair of black semi-dressy loafers. Well, they had a tassel, so you could call them that. The good news was that I just got my underwear back from the laundry, so my personal hygiene would not be criticized. I decided to dress casually. Khaki pants, an open sport shirt and comfortable boat shoes that I knocked around in would do. Betsy said that I shouldn’t try to influence them and this was the real me. Now all I needed to do was wait a few days and get there a little before they did, so I could greet them.

The rest of the week dragged on. I wanted to call Penny and tell her about my becoming a big brother, but it was premature, since the match wouldn’t be made until after the meeting. There was nothing to do but wait. Friday night I set my alarm for 7 a.m. and went to bed early. I tossed and turned all night, at least it seemed all night, but the alarm woke me when it went off, so I must have gotten some sleep. I got up, showered and shaved, made sure I used a generous amount of deodorant, better safe than sorry, and got dressed. It only took twenty minutes from my apartment to my office and there wouldn’t be any traffic on Saturday. I got to the restaurant early, as I had planned, to make sure I got one of the large booths. Ann, the waitress I usually flirted with, didn’t work on the weekends, which was just as well.

I seated myself and a waitress came over. It wasn’t very crowded, but she still gave me a questioning look. I told her that I was expecting three other people. She nodded and put down four menus. Did I want to order? No, I would wait until they got there. Coffee? She had two pots with her. Yes. Regular or decaf? Regular. She filled the mug from the pot in her right hand and walked away. I doctored up the coffee and sipped on it while I waited.

About fifteen minutes after I arrived, I saw Betsy come in with another woman and a boy. I slid out of the booth and stood up to get their attention. Betsy looked around and saw me. She took the woman’s arm and brought her over. I tried to get a look at the boy as they approached me, but he was behind his mother. Betsy let go of the woman’s arm when they got to the table. The boy stayed behind his mother.

“Hi,” Betsy greeted me.

“Hi,” I replied making eye contact with her and then the woman.

“Jack, this is Tanya Ilianskya.”

“Hello, it is pleasure to meet you,” the woman took the initiative. She spoke with a noticeable Russian accent.

“Hello, Tanya, I am pleased to meet you.” I put out my hand and she gave me a firm handshake.

“And this is Dimitri.” The boy shyly stayed behind his mother. She turned and guided him forward.

“Offer hand, Dimitri,” she coached him. He put out his right hand. I shook it.

“Hello, Dimitri. I hope that we will become good friends,” I said, trying to put him at ease. I noticed that Tanya smiled and nodded her approval. So far so good.

“Please,” I gestured at the table, “sit down. Tanya and Dimitri slid into one side of the booth. Betsy seated herself beside me. I handed them the menus.

“The food is good. Dimitri, what do you like to eat? They have bacon and eggs and pancakes.” Then I realized that they may have had breakfast already. “Oh, if you’re not hungry, it’s okay. They can make milkshakes or you could have a soda or juice.” Damn Jack, stop trying so hard. Let the boy make his own choice.

The waitress noticed that the other people had arrived and came over with her two pots of coffee. Betsy had decaf and Tanya asked for tea. The waitress filled Betsy’s cup. She left and came back with a mug of hot water and a tea bag. She took out her order pad and waited with her pencil poised. Tanya and Betsy both wanted just their beverages.

“I,” I gave a sheepish shrug, “didn’t have breakfast. Would you mind if I ordered something?” I also wanted to give Dimitri a chance. Kids always had an appetite. Otherwise, it would be awkward if they all watched me eat. “Dimitri, are you hungry?” He nodded. “Good. What would you like.”

“Pancakes please?” He looked at his mother. “Dah,” she told him. I knew enough Russian that it meant she approved. The waitress tapped her pencil impatiently on her order pad. I made a mental note to skimp on her tip. “The buttermilk stack for Dimitri and the number two special for me, over easy with bacon,” I ordered, “and a glass of milk.” I looked him and then at his mother. She smiled at me, so I assumed I had made the right choice. The waitress left.

There was an awkward silence. Betsy was obviously experienced with these type of meetings. “Jack, why don’t you tell Tanya and Dimitri a little about yourself.”

“Okay, well, umm, I, umm,” great start Jack. “I’m a private investigator. I work on my own, for lawyers mostly, helping them prepare their cases. My office is across the street. That’s why I suggested this restaurant. I come here a lot for lunch. I, I’m single. I live in an apartment. I have a car.” I realized I was babbling and also I didn’t know how much Tanya understood. I stopped talking.

“Tanya,” Betsy continued as master of ceremonies, “tell Jack something about yourself and about Dimitri.”

“We come from town outside Moscow. I am engineer. I do big projects in Russia. I do little projects around house here. No license.” She looked at me. I couldn’t tell if she was being humorous or serious. Her accent and unemotional delivery made it hard to tell. “Dimitri, he good boy. He get good marks in school. His father, he is engineer too. We meet at work. Maybe Dimitri be engineer. He good with math. You like math, Jack?”

So much for this match. “No, I am terrible at math.” Then I had a thought as to how I could turn it around. “Maybe Dimtri could tutor me.” That suggestion got a big smile from Tanya and even a little smile from Dimitri. Well done, Jack.

“Dimitri,” tell Jack something about yourself, please,” Betsy seized the moment.

“I like football.”

“Terrific, Dimitri, I like football too. Maybe we could go to a game.” Oops, Betsy warned me about trying to influence them. I looked at her, but apparently it was not a hard and fast rule, because she gave me a little nod of approval. With that encouragement I added, “I have a friend who has really good seats.” I could see Dimitri become more comfortable.

Our conversation was interrupted by the waitress delivering our food. Dimitri put syrup on his pancakes and went after them with a fork. I cut up my egg and took a bite. I maintained proper etiquette by wiping the egg yolk dribble off of my lips with my napkin. Since Dimitri and I were absorbed with our meals, Betsy maintained the conversation. I was really impressed with her. She reminded me of Penny.

Tanya talked about her life in Russia and the difficulty she had adjusting to America. Too many choices, she complained. “In Russia, only one brand toilet paper and never in state shop. Buy on black market. Here I spend twenty minutes in supermarket to pick out.” I could tell that she did have a sense of humor. Dimitri looked unhappy about his mother’s choice for illustrating the difference between East and West.

When Dimitri and I had finished our breakfast, Betsy suggested that she and Tanya take a walk and let us get acquainted. They got up and went out. Of course, the waitress took that as a cue that we were finished. She came over, started to clear the dishes and put down the check. I gave her a disapproving look. She scowled back at me and walked off. Obviously, no refill for you, Jack, not that you wanted one.

“So, Dimitri, what grade are you in?” I remembered that Betsy had said he was nine.

“Fourth.” That would make him almost ten, I guessed.

“When is your birthday?”

“April.”

“Dimitri, when you said you liked football, you meant American football, right. Not European football. We call that soccer.”

“Uh huh.”

“Do you play football?”

“American football?”

“Yes.”

“No. I play soccer at home.”

“You mean at home in Russia?”

“Yes.”

I continued to talk to Dimitri about sports. He liked sports, but he wasn’t on any teams. His mother made him come home after school and work on his math with her. I expected that he was way above his grade in that subject, but probably struggling with the others, because of his difficulty with English. I asked Dimitri whether it was a problem. He said that he could speak English, but had trouble reading it. I remembered that the Russian language used a different alphabet. I was impressed with how much progress he had made, but also I was concerned by how strict his mother seemed to be with him. He wasn’t allowed to watch TV either.

Kids should have fun, although I couldn’t claim any experience with parenting. I suppose things are different in the society Dimitri comes from and Tanya is simply doing what a good Russian mother does. Dimitri definitely needed an American adult to help him adjust. You couldn’t get more apple pie and baseball than me. He was in luck and so I was I. I really liked the boy and maybe I could do some good. You have to be careful, though, Jack, I reminded myself. You can’t contradict his mother’s decision to focus on his education.

Betsy and Tanya returned. The restaurant wasn’t crowded, so there was no reason for us to hurry and leave. They sat down. I told them that I would enjoy being Dimitri’s big brother, if Tanya wanted me. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be so direct. I looked at Betsy to see if she disapproved. To my relief, she looked at Tanya for her decision. Tanya looked at Dimitri and said something to him in Russian. He answered in the same language. Although I didn’t understand what they were saying, it was obvious from how long they spoke that it was more than a yes or no discussion. Finally Tanya nodded.

‘Dimitri say he like Jack.” She looked at me and smiled. “Dimitri want to know if you have gun and you let him ride in your police car, make siren.”

“No, I’m a private investigator,” I explained. “Sometimes I work with the police, but mostly I am on my own. I don’t have a gun and I just have a regular car. I know some people on the force and they might let Dimitri sit in a police car, but they aren’t allowed to give civilians, umm, people who don’t work for the police, rides. Sorry.” I looked at Dimitri. “Does that change your mind?” He said something to his mother in Russian. “He still say okay.”

“Wonderful,” Betsy said enthusiastically. “Jack, I will do the paperwork to make the match official. Tanya, I will give Jack your telephone number and home address. Jack, please give Tanya a call at the beginning of next week and arrange to pick up Dimitri. It’s up to you two to work out the details of day, time and when he needs to be back. Okay, unless there are any questions, we’re done.”

None of us had anything more. I took out my wallet to pay for the breakfast. Tanya opened her pocketbook to pay her share of the bill.

“No, please, Tanya. This is a special day. Let me.” She closed her pocketbook.

“Thank you, Jack.” She looked at Dimitri. “Say thank you.”

“Thank you,” he repeated.

“You are both very welcome.”

Everyone shook each other’s hand and I waited as they filed out. On the street, we waived goodbye. Betsy made the telephone sign with her thumb and little finger against her cheek. I nodded. On my way back to my apartment, I complimented myself on successfully getting a Little, as they called them. I wondered what we should do on our first date. Was that what you called it, a date? It didn’t sound right. Funny, I thought. You are really into this for a guy who told Penny he would make a terrible father. Maybe there is hope for you yet.

I wanted to call Penny and tell her right away, but I was afraid she’d think I was doing it just as an excuse to talk her into getting back together. Besides, Jack, you haven’t even spent time with Dimitri. What if your first date, whatever, turns out to be bad. Then you’d look even worse. I decided to wait.

In fact, things went well. I took Dimitri to a movie for my first visit. That’s the term they use. I cleared it with Tanya. They lived in an apartment across town. The drive to the theater gave us some time to get to know each other and watching the movie meant we didn’t have to strain to keep up the conversation the whole time. I bought a huge tub of popcorn, sodas and an industrial sized box of Sno-Caps, my favorite. Dimitri acquired a taste for them too. I worried that Tanya would be angry with me for spoiling his appetite. She turned out to be very understanding and appreciative.

I was an only child, so having a little brother, even one who wasn’t related, was fun. In fact, I got so involved with planning my visits with Dimitri that it was two weeks before I thought about calling Penny. I picked up the phone and started to dial her office number. Then I thought maybe it would be better if I spoke to her at home. I hung up and puttered around the office for the rest of the day. I picked up a pizza and a six-pack on my way home. After finishing my gourmet dinner, well, I did splurge for Italian sausage and peppers That’s gourmet, more or less. Okay, a lot less than more. I downed a third beer for courage and made the call. My luck, I got her answering machine. Where was she? At Gingers? Without me? Of course without you, Jack. You’re here. Maybe I should go down there. Beep, the tone sounded.

“Umm, ahh, hi Penny, it’s Jack.” Yeah, Jack, like she wouldn’t recognize your voice. “I, umm, well, umm, I wanted to, I just wanted to see how your were doing and to tell you, umm, something, ahh, umm, I have a little brother. I mean not a real little brother, you know, like big brothers and sisters. You gave me a reference. That kind of little brother. His name is Dimitri. I, I don’t know, I, I just wanted to talk to you. Will you call me. I’m home.”

Brilliant, Jack. I was hoping that her machine had one of those options to erase and re-record the message, but it didn’t. What I said was what she got. Then again, Penny knew me well enough that she wouldn’t expect Shakespeare. I hung up. I stayed up until midnight, hoping she’d call back. Either she got in late or she didn’t want to talk to me. Oh my God, what if she had someone with her and that’s why she didn’t call me? You’re losing it, Jack. Go to bed.

I dragged out my morning routine, hoping that Penny would pick up my message and call me before she went to work. I gave up at nine o’clock and headed to my office. The phone rang a number of times, but they were all business calls. By the end of the day, I had resigned myself to the fact that Penny didn’t want to renew our relationship. I couldn’t blame her. Just as I was about to leave, the phone rang. I answered it as usual.

“Jack, Hi.” It was Penny!

“Hi Penny. I, umm, I ah, I thought you were mad at me.”

“Mad at you? Why would you think that, Jack?”

‘I, umm, well, I, you know, you didn’t call me back, so, I, umm, thought that... “

”Oh, Jack, I’m so sorry,” she interrupted me. “No, no, I was speaking at a seminar today, so I worked late last night updating my presentation. By the time I got home it was too late to call you and this morning I had to leave early. This is the first chance that I’ve had.”

“Oh, I, umm, I’m glad, Penny. I,” I sighed, “I really care about you.”

“I really care about you too, Jack.”

“Then why aren’t we together, Penny?” I challenged her.

“Fire and ice, Jack. Each is fine by itself, but together they destroy each other.”

“Penny, I’m sorry, really. I was wrong. That’s why I volunteered to be a big brother. I told you that in my message. It has helped me to appreciate commitment. You’re patient with others, Penny, please be patient with me. I have to see you,” I pleaded.

“I don’t know, Jack. What would we talk about?”

“About us, Penny.”

“We’ve already had that conversation, Jack.”

“No, Penny, you spoke to a different Jack. This one wants you back and he won’t take no for an answer. He will sit on your doorstep until either you open the door or he dies from starvation. Your neighbors will be very upset if there is a corpse cluttering up the hallway.”

After a brief silence, she relented. “Okay, come on over and I’ll make us some dinner. I believe there’s something in my lease about not leaving dead bodies in the common areas and I don’t want to get evicted.” Penny always was able to top me. “Give me about an hour to get ready.” It was five o’clock.

“Okay, I’ll be there about six, bye Penny.”

“Goodbye, Jack.”

After hanging up the phone, I raised my left arm and took a sniff. Luckily, my deodorant had not failed. I kept a bottle of mouthwash in my desk drawer in case I had to speak with someone after having a burger with onions for lunch. I took a swig, swished it around and held it while I locked up. I stopped into the men’s room and spit it in the sink, relieved myself for good measure, washed up and walked to my car. It took about twenty minutes to drive over to Penny’s apartment, so I had time to pick up a bottle of wine on my way. I stopped at a liquor store and asked the clerk for something special. She recommended a twenty four dollar bottle of California chablis. Penny usually ordered white wine when we went out. Now was not the time to economize. I bought it.

I got to Penny’s apartment and parked. It was just like old times, sort of. Well, parking and going up to her apartment was the same. Convincing her to take me back was something new. I rang her on the intercom and she buzzed me in. I took the elevator and got off on her floor. I knocked and waited nervously for her to open the door. I felt like a schoolboy on his first date. I heard her turning the lock and there she was. Okay, Jack, sweep her off her feet. I stood there unable to think of anything to say to her.

“Why Jack Blaine. How nice to see you. Do come in,” she teased me.

“I, um, I, um, ah.” For crying out loud, Jack, give her the damn bottle. “Here.” I handed her the wine. “I hope you like it, it’s, um, it’s real wine.” What? No, you brought her pretend wine. It’s grape juice. “I mean, um, it’s really good wine. Um, the ah, woman at the liquor store said it was. I, um, ah.”

“Thank you, Jack,” Penny mercifully interrupted my babbling. She leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. She took the bottle, put her hand on my arm to move me out of the doorway and closed the door. She kept her hand on my arm as she led me to the living room.

“Sit down. I’ll open the wine. Dinner’s almost ready. I know you prefer beer. I have some in the ‘fridge.”

“Please, Penny, I’d like wine too.”

“You’ve changed your drinking habits?”

“No, but, well, I want to share the wine with you. It’s a special occasion.”

“Really? Christmas, Halloween, someone’s birthday?” she continued to tease me.

“Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Jack. You’re serious and I’m being silly.” She paused and considered her admission. “No, not silly, cruel. I made you believe it was your fault when it was really my own.” She shook her head.

“How can you blame yourself? I’m the one who asked you to give up your career to marry me.”

She shook her head again. “No, it is my fault. If it was just about our life together, we could have worked it out. There’s always a compromise. At least that’s what I counsel. I’m a hypocrite, Jack. I can help others deal with their gender confusion, but not myself. I was born male, but I’m not a man. I live my life as a woman, but I’m not female. I am terrified of being rejected by someone I care about, so I rejected you first. You deserve better.” She lowered her eyes sadly.

“Better, Penny? You’re pretty. Heads turn when you walk in a room. You’re smart. You have all of those letters after your name. You’re sympathetic, sensitive, loving and caring. You watched over Lavender when she was in the hospital and Dawn died at peace because of your support.” I put my hand under her chin and lifted her face to look at me. “I don’t care if you have a penis or a vagina or a pouch like a kangaroo. I love you for who you are, not what you aren’t.”

She gave a little whimper, her lower lip quivered and she couldn’t hold back the tears.

“I’m sorry, Penny,” I apologized. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I’m, I’m not very good with words,” I admitted.

“Shut up, Jack,” she managed to get out through the sobs.

“Penny, I’m really...”

She struggled to control herself. “Please. I’m not sad. I’m happy.”

“But? Oh, the hormones.”

“No, Jack, it’s not the hormones. It’s your words. They were perfect.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Now shut up and let me enjoy them.”

Quit while you’re ahead, Jack. I held out my arms and she cuddled up, her liquid happiness soaking my shoulder. Finally, her crying subsided. She moved back, looked at me lovingly and this time her kiss found my lips. Tongues make excellent aiming devices.

“Jack?” Penny asked once we came up for air. “Exactly how many marsupials have you made love to since we stopped seeing each other?”

“How many whats?”

“Marsupials, animals with pouches.”

“Oh, those. Umm, none actually.”

“Well, then,” she continued playfully, “how do you know you wouldn’t prefer one to me?”

“I’m just guessing. I suppose I could stop off at the zoo and see if there are any female mar-whatevers looking for dates.”

“No, I don’t think that will be necessary.”

“Oh, okay.” Actually, I was relieved that I would not have to romance Australian wildlife to prove my love.

The rest of the evening was, well, the meal was better than any I had for a long time. I regretted that oysters weren’t on the menu, lots of them, although I did manage to hold my own. Well, actually, umm, no I didn’t. She, we, umm, never mind. Who held what isn’t important. Well, no, it is important, more or less. Okay, more than less. Anyway, the next morning Penny was up early making breakfast. It might be the most important meal of the day, but that doesn’t excuse tofu bacon. She gave me a long kiss goodbye as consolation. I went back to my own apartment, showered, shaved, changed my clothes and went to work.

Things were back to normal between Penny and me. At least as normal as they ever got. I still wanted to get married., but I didn’t want to renew my proposal until I was sure she was ready. Exactly when that would be or how I would know was a mystery, but, I reminded myself of that wise advice: don't mess with success. Also, I doubted that my rejection of kangaroos as a mate would work a second time.

THE END

This is the fourth part of the "Lost and Found" triology (which makes it a tetralogy, sorry) for those who wanted to know the outcome of Jack and Penny's romance. It can be read independently, but it is better in context. For those who don't remember or haven't read the other parts, Jack falls in love with Penny, who is transgendered ("Lost and Found"), they break up ("Found and Lost") and they get back together ("Lost and Found Again"). It is more complicated and hopefully more enticing than the synopsis, but judge for yourself. In this part, Jack and Penny deal with the problems of preparing for their "mixed marriage." What does Jack tell people about his future wife and what happens when Penny brings Jack home to meet her parents?

By Missy Crystal

---

 
After we got back together, well, okay, I apologized and Penny took me back, so it was kind of one sided, but she admitted she was scared so, umm, where was I? Anyway, the important thing was that I had a second chance. Penny wanted me to move in with her, an offer that I couldn't refuse, since it would save my stomach from the ravages of take out while insuring I had clean clothes, not to mention the other benefits of cohabiting. She made room for my things in her dresser and closet, which wasn't much of a concession considering that my plea for comfort over style did not prevent most of my wardrobe from being dropped off at Goodwill. We started going back to Ginger's. I really missed the girls. If they knew that we broke up, they were very discreet about it. Except for Lola. She still insisted on challenging my choice.

"What does Penny have that I don't have?" she asked provocatively. Actually, they both had the same thing, so it was kind of a hard question to answer. Maybe difficult would be a better choice of words. Penny answered for me by noting that Lola was considerably larger in the chest, although those weren't her exact words, and offered to even things up by removing her implants with a butter knife. Ginger's didn't serve food, so I was pretty sure she was kidding.

I still hadn't learned to appreciate egg white omelets filled with tofu, but watching Penny puttering around the kitchen in her nightgown made up for food that tasted like sawdust. One morning, I mentioned that I would be out with Dimitri on Saturday. "Why don't you come too?" I suggested.

"No, it's your special time with him," she declined.

"I have lots of special time with him. I want you to meet him," I persisted.

"I don't think it's a good idea, Jack."

"Why not?"

"Children are very sensitive to changes in relationships. You're a substitute father figure," she lectured me. "He may worry that you have someone else in your life who will replace him. I wouldn't want that to happen."

"Baloney, Penny" I challenged her. "I don't have a degree, but I can tell when someone's making an excuse, no matter how authoritative they may sound."

"What will you tell him about me, Jack?" she conceded.

"The truth. That you are my..." I wanted to say fiancee, but that was a word that I had avoided, "friend," I completed the sentence.

"Is that what I am?"

"No, of course not. You're more than that. I love you. You know that, Penny," I argued, "but this isn't about us. You can't get out of this conversation by changing the subject. Why isn't it a good idea for Dimitri to meet you?" I repeated.

"Truth or dare?"

"If the dare ends up in the bedroom, yes."

"You have a one track mind, Jack."

"I do not. My mind has lots of tracks. They just happen to all end up in the bedroom when your involved. Now answer my question."

"Then take the dare, Jack and let it go."

"No."

"You won't like the answer," she warned me.

"I'll take my chances."

"It's the same reason I wouldn't marry you."

"I thought you were over that."

"I am, when it comes to us," she agreed, "but not when it involves other people. Jack, I told you, I have my own world where I'm accepted. I don't have to make excuses or explain myself to anyone. Dimitri is going to tell his mother that he met me. She's going to be curious. I am open about who I am and I don't want you to hide it either. I don't know how Dimitri's mother will feel about you, if she knew about me. It's not worth taking the chance."

"Shouldn't I be the judge of that? I don't want us to live in different worlds, Penny. You have your life, I have mine and we meet in the bedroom." The bedroom again, Jack? "Maybe if we combined our worlds my tracks would end someplace else." Nice recovery. "Please, Penny, let's do this together. Whatever happens, we'll work it out. That's what you said before," I reminded her.

"If it means that much to you, Jack, then I will, on one condition."

"What condition?"

"The other part of what I said is that there is always a compromise. Speak to the social worker first. Betsy?" I nodded. "I think you are making a mistake, but this is her area of expertise. I'll go along with whatever she recommends."

"Fair enough. I'll call her when I get to the office. In the meantime, can we follow one of the tracks?"

Penny laughed. "I got up an hour earlier to do my makeup and hair. Not a chance, but I can ring up Lola. I'm sure she would love to get her caboose on your track."

"Umm, no, I, umm, actually, I forgot I have an appointment. I stood up. Gotta run. I gave her a kiss on the cheek and headed for the door."

"Jack."

"Yes?"

"Unless you're meeting Lola, you should put on some pants."

When I arrived at my office, fully attired I should add, I called Betsy. She was on another call. I left my name and number. About twenty minutes later the phone rang. I answered it. "Jack Blaine Investigations. Jack Blaine speaking."

"Hi, it's Betsy. How are you?"

"I'm fine, Betsy. You?"

"Good. I hear from Tanya that you and Dimitri are getting on well together. She's very happy with you as his big. Not that I doubted she would be," she added.

"That's great to hear. I really like Dimitri. He's a good kid. Actually, that's why I called."

"Oh? I was hoping you were calling to tell me that you and Ms. Johnson were getting married. You're not reneging on your offer to let me be best man are you? I already made a deal with my husband to borrow his tux. I offered to let him have a dress in exchange, but he turned it down. Too bad, he's got nice legs."

"Well, we are back together, but that's not why I called. Well, no, it is, sort of, its, umm, its, like, umm, sorry, this is difficult to explain." Betsy patiently waited to hear what I had to say. "I want Penny to meet Dimitri."

"Why is that a problem, Jack? 'Penny, this is Dimitri. Dimitri, say hi to Ms. Johnson.'"

"I didn't think it was a problem either, but Penny does. She's concerned about it interfering with our relationship, Dimitri and me, if he thinks I have an, umm, a girl, umm, a girlfriend. You know, maybe he would think that there was someone else that I would rather be with and I wouldn't have time for him."

"That's it?"

"Well, umm, no, not exactly."

"Go on, Jack."

"Penny expects that Dimitri will tell Tanya and Tanya will be curious. Penny insists that I tell Tanya the truth about her, if she aks. You know, that she's transgendered."

There was a pause. I waited patiently for Betsy to collect her thoughts.

"Ms. Johnson is right, Jack. A child who has lost a parent, either literally, by their passing away, or figuratively, by their walking out, becomes fearful that the other people they care about will go away too. It can be very traumatic for them emotionally if it happens or even if they only think it will happen."

"Oh, so she shouldn't meet Dimitri, then?"

"I didn't finish. Dimitri knows that his father will be coming back. You're just filling in for him. As far as I can see, Dimitri is a well adjusted boy and under the circumstances I doubt that he would worry about meeting Ms. Johnson."

"So you think it's okay?"

"You gave me two reasons. I can't address the second. Tanya is the only one that can tell you how she feels about it."

"So there's no problem as far as your concerned, right?"

"Officially, there's no problem. Unofficially, a word of warning, Jack, be careful." She paused. "That's two words. Anyway, it's up to Tanya to decide whether to keep you as Dimitri's big. From what I know of her, she is very traditional. That's why she felt that Dimitri should have a man in his life until his father could get here. Good reason, bad reason or no reason, if she decides you're not the right man for Dimitri, there's nothing I can do about it."

"Thanks, Betsy. I understand."

"Hold on, I'm not done. We have lots of littles and not enough volunteers. I would have no problem finding you another match. Dimitri's loss would be some other boy's gain. In the words of that famous philosopher Jiminy Cricket, 'let your conscience be your guide.'"

"Thanks again, Betsy, and, yes, you're still the best man." She laughed.

After I hung up, I thought about Betsy's warning. Dimitri and Penny were both important to me. I had every right to have them meet. If Tanya thought less of me because of Penny, it was her problem, not mine. My conscience would be clear. So much for Jiminy Cricket.

I wanted to call Penny and tell her, but I knew she had a busy schedule. I decided to wait until she got home. I spent the rest of the day doing routine paperwork. I finished up a report, put it in an envelope to mail and decided to leave work early, the benefit of being your own boss. On my way home, there was a guy peddling roses at a stop light. I bought a dozen for ten bucks. Then I figured, what the heck, so I stopped off at the liquor store and got a bottle of wine. It was nice to have a little spending money, now that Penny and I were sharing the expenses, and there wasn't anyone I would rather spend it on than her. When I got home, I put the roses in a vase and put the bottle of wine on the table with two glasses. Penny didn't trust me in the kitchen. I think she suspected I would slip butter into one of the recipes, not that we had any, but I had my secret sources. Okay, it wasn't a secret, there was a convenience store around the corner, so she probably had good reason for her suspicion.

I was sitting on the couch watching the six o'clock news when I heard Penny come in. I turned off the tv and went to greet her. As I puckered, she held our her arm. " Let me put down my briefcase and take off my jacket." After she finished, she turned to me. "Okay, now what did you do that deserves my affection?"

"I love you."

"Good enough." She threw her arms around me and we kissed for about an hour. No, I wasn't looking at my watch, since the hand to which it was attached was otherwise occupied. It was a very long kiss. When we let go, she went off to change. About fifteen minutes later she was back in a warmup outfit and her hair in a ponytail. She saw the roses and the wine.

"Oh, Jack, how thoughtful. Is it a special occasion?"

"In a way. I talked to Betsy."

"I take it from the celebration she approved?"

"Not exactly. She agreed with you in principle, but felt that Dimitri was different. His father is around, just not here right now. She didn't think that he would be worried about my having someone else in my life."

"Okay, I was wrong."

"No, not wrong Penny, just half right. Betsy couldn't predict how Tanya would react. She made it clear that it was a risk I would have to take. I thought about it, I don't see a problem. You're as much a woman as she is."

"Except that I have the wrong plumbing in my panties."

"Really? The last time I checked there was nothing wrong with it. I could check again."

"Jack, be serious, please. You know what I mean. You're special. There aren't many men like you. There aren't many people like you. I should know. It's what I deal with every day, humiliation, rejection, hatred."

In my mind I pictured Dawn's father turning her away and poor Lavender in the hospital.

"Penny, this is my decision and I am willing to take the consequences," I insisted.

"In that case, I have another condition."

"You said that you would do it on one condition. Now its two conditions."

"It's a woman's prerogative to change her mind," she countered.

"What about the problem with the plumbing in your panties?"

"Why is it that you only remember what I say when I contradict myself?"

"Because, you're ten times smarter than me and I could never come up with it on my own." It's impossible to argue with a compliment. "Okay, two conditions," I conceded. "What's the second?"

"I want you to speak to Tanya first. If she says no, then at least Dimitri won't be in the middle of it. It's not right to let him think that it was his fault if something goes wrong after he meets me."

"Fair enough, Penny. I'll give her a call tomorrow."

When I got to the office the next morning, I picked up the phone, but then I figured Tanya was busy. Dimitri would be off to school by now, but she probably had housework or laundry or whatever to do after he left. I decided to wait until after ten. I went back to reviewing a video of a cheating husband I caught having some afternoon delight with a woman at a motel. You'd think that he would try to be less conspicuous, but these executive types were always arrogant. Not that I cared. I made my living off guys like him. I kept glancing up at the clock. At ten thirty I decided it was a good time to call.

The phone rang a few times. I thought that Tanya might have gone out. I was about to hang up and call later when I heard her accented voice.

"Allyo."

It took me a few seconds to put the phone back to my mouth.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Tanya, it's, Jack. Did I call at a bad time?"

"No, was doing dishes. Wet hands not good for holding phone. How you?"

"I'm fine, thanks. I have something I need to talk to you about."

"Dimitri is problem, yes?"

"No, there's no problem." I paused, trying to think of how to say it?"

"Jack?"

"Yes, Tanya. It's, well, it's, umm, hard to talk to you about it on the phone. You know, umm, with the difference in languages. I mean you speak English fine," I didn't want her to think I was criticizing her, " but what I have to say, well, it's kind of complicated. It would be better if we could get together. Could I come over?"

"You want come now?"

"Yes, if you don't mind."

"Okay, is good now."

"Great Tanya. I'll see you in about twenty minutes. Okay?"

"Dah. Yes."

I hung up, locked up the office and drove to Tanya's house. I knocked on the door. She opened it and invited me in. I notice she was dressed casually, comfortable shoes, slacks and a shirt, blouse I guess you would call it, because it was loose fitting and had some type of decoration, embroidery. It looked European. I followed her into the family room. She sat on the couch. I sat in an armchair facing her.

"You want tea, Jack? Cake? Good cake, from Russian bakery."

"No, thank you. I'd rather just talk."

She waited to hear what I had to say.

"I, umm, I have a friend, Tanya, a, umm, a girl, a girlfriend," I started out awkwardly. "I want her to meet Dimitri, if that's okay."

She gave me a puzzled look, shrugged her shoulders and replied, "Okay. You want tea and cake now."

I took a deep breath and went on. "There's more Tanya. My girlfriend, her name is Penny, Penny Johnson, she's, well she's more than just a girlfriend. I love her. I want to marry her. She's transgendered."

"Trans-a-gen?," Tanya tried to pronounce the word.

"Trans-gen-dered," I pronounced slowly.

"Spell please."

I recited the letters.

Tanya shook her hread. "Don't know word, how you say it?" I pronounced it for her again. "Wait." She walked over to a small desk and got a paperback book. I guessed it was a Russian-English dictionary. She started to thumb through the pages. She stopped and studied a page, running her finger down and then doing it again. "Not word in Russian," she concluded.

"It means that she's a woman, but she used to be a man." Geez Jack, not used to be. " I mean, well she's still a man, but she considers herself a woman and so do I," I corrected myself.

I could see that between the language barrier and the topic of the conversation, Tanya was having a hard time following what I was trying to tell her. I waited while she tried to sort it out. Finally, I could see her eyes widen.

"You have boyfriend, Jack?"

"Penny is the director of a social service agency." I decided it wouldn't help to describe the nature of her clients. "She is smart, she has two degrees, she is respected in her profession," I defended her, although it didn't answer Tanya's question.

"Yes, but he is man, this person? Penskyah, that ending for woman in Russian."

"Not Pen," I paused, "skyah, Tanya, just Penny. It's the same word as the copper coin that's worth one cent, we call it a penny too." That really confused her, a woman who was a man named after a coin. Penny was the one with the communication skills. She could explain it much better. Then the lightbulb went off.

"Tanya, I'm not good at this. It's important that you understand. Could I bring Penny to meet you? Then you could decide for yourself."

"You want to bring him here?"

"I want to bring her," I emphasized the 'her,' "yes, to meet you."

"Okay," she agreed skeptically, "you bring boyfriend,. When he come?"

I obviously had not done a good job of convincing Tanya that Penny was a woman or maybe it was just the way the Russian language uses masculine pronouns. I suppose it didn't matter. Penny would be able to make her understand. Would she, Jack? She told you, she doesn't have to excuse or explain herself to anyone. Why would she make an exception?

"Like I said, Tanya, she is has an important job. I will speak to her and see when she has time. When would be good for you?"

"Dimitri go to school in morning, come home three o'clock. He have math tutor on Thursday after school, come home five o'clock. You call, let me know." She thought for a few seconds. "Not say anything to Dimitri, Jack."

"No, of course not Tanya. That was why I spoke to you first."

"Okay, you call me."

"I will."

She got up and escorted me to the door. I could see that she was still concerned about our conversation. We didn't exchange the usual pleasantries. She just opened the door and I left. What were you expecting, Jack, I questioned myself as I drove back to my office, and why have you dragged Penny into this when she told you she didn't want to be involved. Congratulations on messing things up with everyone you care about. The road to hell, Jack, you're doing a great job paving it.

I moped around the office the rest of the day. I though about calling Penny, but this wasn't something that could be discussed on the phone during the workday. It would have to wait until we were together and I gave her the opportunity to say 'I told you so' a couple of dozen times. At four o'clock I had enough and decided to go home and wait for her. Wine and roses wouldn't work this time. I hadn't slept on the couch yet, but there was a first time for everything, as I found out after I started dating Penny, which had nothing to do with the problem I created, but was a comforting recollection. Well, you've gone through a lot of cliches getting yourself into this. Maybe 'love conquers all' would be the one that gets you out of it.

I brought our newspaper up from the lobby and started on the crossword puzzle while I waited for Penny. I couldn't concentrate. Instead, I kept rehearsing what I would say to Penny to convince her to help me. How about simply, Penny, Tanya wants to meet you? No, that's not true. It was your idea. Okay, I debated with myself, how about, Penny, Tanya doesn't understand what it means to be transgendred. That was true, but it didn't ask Penny to help me. What about, Penny, I tried to explain about you to Tanya, but couldn't, so would you? Better, although not exactly a compelling plea for help. I gave up trying to rehearse what I would say. I paced, angry with myself for being so cocksure. I winced at my unintentional pun. Finally, I heard Penny open the door. A minute later, she came into the room.

"Hi, Jack, how was your day?"

"Frustrating," I complained.

"Oh, Jack, I'm sorry," she said sympathetically, coming over and putting her arms around my waist."

"Is there anything I can do to make it better?" she asked suggestively.

"Being with you makes it better," I replied, pulling her against me. We held each other for a minute. She stood back and looked at me.

"What's the problem?"

"I met with Tanya today."

"You went to see her?" she asked with surprise.

"Yes. I thought it would be better if I told her about you face to face."

"And?"

"And, and I couldn't make her understand. Between the language difficulty and my being an idiot, all she got out of it was that I had a boyfriend," I told her dejectedly.

"You happen to be the idiot I love. What can I do?"

"I, I, I'm sorry, Penny, I, well, I asked her to meet you. I know I should have asked you first, but, I, I don't know, nobody could meet you and not understand.

"Not understand what?"

"That you're not a man."

"Oh, so if I show up in a party dress and heels, she'll change her mind about me?"

"No, its not how you look, Penny, its who you are. You, you can't help being what you were born, but that doesn't mean you have to live your life that way."

Penny looked at me curiously.

"What?"

"That is the best I have ever heard it said, Jack!", she exclaimed. "I'm serious. I am going to write it down and use it as our slogan."

"Out of the mouths of idiots, I guess."

"Okay, you have redeemed yourself. Along with the other rewards I intend to bestow on you, I will meet with Tanya. When?"

That went a lot better than I thought it would.

"I, umm, she, umm, doesn't want Dimitri home. He is out from four until five o'clock on Thursday, so I told her I would check with you. I, I, said you were very busy, so we could do it another time," I offered apologetically.

"Jack, I would move heaven and earth for you. Moving a few appointments is easier."

"Are you sure?"

"Am I sure I love you?"

"Are you sure you don't mind changing your appointments."

"Are you sure you're an idiot?"

"Very sure."

"I'm sure that I don't mind."

"That I'm an idiot?"

"No, changing my appointments for you."

I couldn't help myself. I took her and hugged her and our lips found each other.

"Mmmm, Jack, slow down. I'm hungry. You don't want to make love on an empty stomach, do you?"

A silly choice to give me. "I am very flexible when it comes to the kind of stomachs I make love on."

Penny laughed. "Well, hold the thought while I put some water on to boil. Is linguine, tossed with oil and black pepper, okay?" She took out a big pot, filled it with water and put it on the stove. " It will take about twenty minutes for the water to come to a boil. I'm pretty sure I can get you to come to a boil in that time too."

"That sounds great."

"The pasta?"

"What pasta?"

The next day I called Tanya. I was worried that she had thought about it and changed her mind. "Hi, Tanya, it's Jack. Umm, ah, is Thursday around four o'clock still good for you? You know, for me to stop by with my umm, ah, my girl, my, umm, friend, ah, Penny?" I asked trying to make it sound like it was no big deal. I waited nervously for her answer.

"Okay."

I wasn't prepared for such a simple response. It took me a moment to recover my composure. "Oh, yes, well, umm, thanks. See you Thursday. Bye." I hung up the phone and breathed a sign of relief. So far so good, Jack, I reassured myself. I called Penny's office.

"Hi, its Jack, Jack Blaine. Is Penny, Ms. Johnson, is she in?"

"Yes, I know which Jack is calling for Penny Johnson," the receptionist curtly answered. "Please hold." I got a minute's worth of unidentifiable music. "Okay," she picked up the call. "She's in a meeting. What's the message? Please hold." Another minute of easy listening. I reminded myself to lure Janice, that was her name, into a closet at the next office event and remove her tongue, making a mental note to buy a very big pair of scissors. "Okay," she picked up the call again. "Go ahead."

"Janice, please, don't put me on hold again. Just tell Penny that Thursday is good. Do you have that?"

The phone went dead. Dull scissors, I corrected my shopping list.

The rest of the week went by quickly. Wednesday night we hung out at Ginger's. Thursday morning, I noticed that Penny was wearing a dress instead of he usual suit. I looked at her appreciatively. She smiled back. There was no need for words and we had a strict no smooching in the morning policy so that she wouldn't have to redo her makeup. It wasn't my favorite house rule, but my restraint had its delayed compensations. I told her I would pick her up around three thirty. She nodded and left. I got myself dressed. Finding pants and a shirt to go with them was easy. I was messy. Penny was neat. I would drop clothes on the floor. Penny would remind me to hang them up. If I didn't, she would do it without complaint. Her patience with me was why I loved her. No, I would have loved her anyway.

I got to the office and tried to get some work done, but I was too anxious. I don't know why. The worst that could happen was that I would get another little. I was sure we'd hit it off. If not, Betsy told me they had a long waiting list for bigs. No, Jack, that's not the worst that can happen. Tanya could embarrass Penny. Could she? Penny was pretty confident about herself. Why would she care what Tanya thought of her? She has feelings, Jack. Okay, but if she was afraid of getting her feelings hurt, she would have said no. She did. You wouldn't take no for an answer. She's doing it for you. She always puts you ahead of herself. Wouldn't it be nice if you thought of her first? Damn, I hate it when I'm right about me being wrong. I should cancel the meeting.

I picked up the phone to call Tanya. As I was dialing, I thought about how I would explain the sudden change to Penny. I hung up. You arranged the meeting without consulting her. Now you're going to cancel it without consulting her. You just don't learn from your mistakes, Jack. If you're equal partners in a relationship, then you make decisions together. What if I told her it was Tanya who canceled the meeting, I thought. Yes, Jack, that's it. Lie to the person you love. Okay, Jiminy Cricket, you're right, it's a bad idea.

I was too worried to work, so I closed up and went for a walk. There was a small park a few blocks from my office. I sat on a bench and watched a squirrel. The nice thing about them is that you can't tell the boy squirrel from the girl squirrel. At least I couldn't. I guess the squirrels can or there wouldn't be baby squirrels. Except for that, it really didn't matter whether they were boys or girls. All they needed to do was stash enough acorns for the winter. Squirrels had it easy. I looked at my watch. It was only twelve thirty. I still had three hours to kill before I picked up Penny. I thought about lunch. A loaded chili dog would distract me. I remembered an old tv commercial, something about a drugstore product and trading a headache for an upset stomach. It my case, it probably would have been a good thing, although I doubted Penny would consider dragon breath a social advantage.

If I couldn't have lunch, at least the squirrel could. I went across the street to a convenience store and bought a jar of peanuts. I considerately got the unsalted ones, so that he or she wouldn't have to go out for water in the middle of the winter. Back at the bench, I cracked open the jar and tossed a few peanuts on the ground. It took the squirrel a bit of scurrying around before he discovered them. I decided it was a him and that his wife was home taking care of the kids. Then again, maybe he was a bachelor squirrel and would entice some girl squirrel with his wealth of peanuts. That was me, a mating service for squirrels, even if I couldn't do it for myself. Did squirrels have mates or just dates? I thought about my children's books, but I could only remember bunnies. I continued to throw nuts on the ground. The squirrel would pack them away in his cheeks and scamper off. We repeated the scenario a couple of dozen times. I decided I better stop before he had a heart attack from running back and forth. I didn't want another victim of my good intentions.

I still had a couple of hours left, so I went back to my office. I shuffled papers and made a few phone calls. Around three o'clock I decided to head over to Penny's office. It was only a ten minute drive, so I waited in the parking lot. At three thirty I went in. Penny was just coming out, so I didn't have deal with Janice. Penny saw me and came over.

"Hi." The no smooching rule was still in effect. "Ready?"

"Yes, lets go."

I took her arm, turning to give Janice a smile to lure her into a false sense of security. We walked to the car. I went around and opened the door for her. Penny slid in. I started the car and headed for Tanya's. Neither of us spoke. As we drove, Penny took a compact out of her pocketbook and began to fuss with her makeup. She put a couple of different applications on her lips and used a tissue to correct some microscopic imperfection. I knew better than to comment. We got to Tanya's house about ten of four.

"It's too early, Penny. I don't want to run into Dimitri." Penny nodded her agreement. I pulled over about a block away and turned off the motor. We watched the house. About four o'clock a car pulled into the driveway. I assumed it was Tanya coming back from dropping off Dimitri. I recognized her as she walked to the back door and went in. "Let's give her a couple of minutes to get settled." We waited five minutes. I drove up, parked in front of the house and we walked to the front door. I rang the bell. Penny was standing behind me, so when Tanya opened the door she would see me first. We stood at the door for a couple of minutes. I rang the bell again. The locked clicked and the door opened.

"Hello, Jack," Tanya greeted me. She looked around. Penny moved from behind me. Tanya still looked past her to the car and then back to me.

"Where boyfriend?"

Penny came forward. Tanya looked at her, then at me and then back to her. She was obviously confused. Penny took control of the situation.

"Hello, I'm Penny Johnson." She extended her hand.

"This is Penny," I confirmed.

Tanya was polite enough to take Penny's hand. I noticed her look down. For some reason, women are preoccupied with each other's manicures. Her nail polish only added to the confusion. "May we come in?" I asked as a reminder to Tanya that her guests were still on the front step.

"Oh, yes, please come." She directed us to the living room.

Penny slid her hands underneath her, smoothing her dress, and sat down in an armchair. She put her pocketbook in her lap, adjusted her dress to cover her knees and crossed her ankles. I sat across from her on the couch. From the expression on Tanya's face, I guessed that she was trying to figure out whether this was some kind of a joke or she misunderstood me."

"You want tea?" she addressed Penny, ignoring me.

"No thank you. Not right now. I'd rather just talk. Perhaps later." Tanya sat down on the other end of the couch opposite Penny. "What you see, Tanya, the clothes, my figure, I take hormones, and these, she put her hands under her breasts, are gel forms. Even though I wasn't born a woman, I've have always felt like one. All of this," she moved her hand over her hair, her face and her body," is just so others will feel the same way about me."

Tanya thought for a while and then challenged her. "Why you want be woman? In Russia, men, women, same job. Man get promotion. Man go out, woman stay home. Man is better."

Penny reached down and picked up her purse. She reached in and took out a small silver container. "These pill are my hormones, but do you know what magic is Tanya?"

"Magic? Is when things go away. Poof," she pretended to wave a wand.

"Yes, it can be making things disappear or one thing can be magically changed into something else. A wand into a bouquet of flowers. Can you pretend, Tanya, that these are magic pills. If you take one, you will become a man. Not just look like a man. You will be a man." She held the box out. "Do you want to be a man Tanya, if you could?"

Tanya was having difficulty following Penny's reasoning. She thought about it and then shook her head.

"Why not? Isn't being a man better than being a woman?"

"I woman. Woman can't be man."

"Neither can I."

Tanya thought some more. Then she smiled. Finally, she turned towards me.

"I like your boyfriend, Jack. He can meet Dimitri."

I wasn't sure if Tanya hadn't understood or she didn't care or if there was some Russian language issue with gender specific words. It really didn't matter. Penny and I looked at each other and shrugged. The purpose of our visit had been accomplished.

"We have tea. Cake too," Tanya insisted. She motioned to Penny. "Come," inviting her into the woman's domain of the kitchen to help with the refreshments. That implicit recognition as an equal brought a big smile to Penny's face. As I waited, I heard the sound of china being set out, the whistle of a tea kettle and talking, although I couldn't make out what they were saying. About five minutes later they returned with Penny carrying a tray on which were arranged three cups of steaming tea and a plate with slices of cake, small plates, napkins and forks. She set it on the coffee table. Tanya offered me a cup, which I politely accepted, being a coffee addict, and then she served the cake. While we sipped our tea, Penny asked Tanya to tell me what she had said about Russia.

Tanya turned to me. "In Russia, always hate. People live in city hate people live in country, Russians hate Chechans. People one religion hate other religion. Not good. We come here. Very hard. My husband stay for parents. I not want Dimitri to hate. He grow up to be good man like you, Jack."

Her compliment took me off guard. I looked at Penny, she nodded her agreement.

"Thank you, Tanya. I'm not sure I deserve it, but it is very kind think of you to say so." I self-consciously looked down, noticing that my watch showed it was quarter of five. "Umm, it's getting late. We should be going before Dimitri gets home. Don't you have to pick him up?"

Tanya shook her head. "I drive, other mother pick up. Dimitri, you meet him," she offered Penny. We looked at each other. If the idea was not to reveal that Penny was transgendered, Tanya's referring to her as the opposite of what she appeared would certainly give her away.

"Thank you, Tanya," Penny interceded, "but I really think it would be better if we met more casually."

"Okay. Jack, you visit Dimitri. Penny come visit me."

"That's up to Penny, Tanya."

I'd like that very much," Penny agreed, "but I don't think it's a good idea for me to come with Jack. They should have their special time together. We can have ours. I can call and meet you when Jack is with Dimitri."

Tanya nodded her agreement.

"Goodbye, Tanya."

Penny moved forward and put her arms out. Tanya moved forward and the women hugged. Penny gave her a kiss on the cheek. Tanya kissed her on both cheeks. They separated. I took Penny's arm and we walked to the car. She turned and waved. Tanya waved back. I got in, started the car and we drove off. After a few minutes, Penny released her seatbelt, an unusual act of civil disobedience, at least for her, and slid over.

"I'm sorry, Jack."

"I'm sorry you're sorry, but things turned out well, so why are you sorry?"

"I'm not sorry about meeting Tanya, Jack."

"Well then, I'm sorry for whatever I did to make you sorry."

"You didn't do anything to make me sorry. You make me very happy."

"How can you be happy and sorry at the same time?"

"Not sorry for myself, Jack. I was apologizing to you."

"Me?"

"Yes. I almost lost you. That can't ever happen. I want us to be together forever. It's what you said and what Tanya proved that made me realize I was foolish to turn down your proposal."

"What?" I turned to her and the car swerved.

"Jack, watch the road. I don't want to get married in the ICU.

"Married?"

"Are you taking back your offer to marry me?"

"Penny, for crying out loud, I've just been waiting for the right moment. I, I," I stammered, "I didn't think you were ready."

"I wasn't, but I am now. All this time, Jack, I thought I had to be rid of Skyler to become Penny. I was wrong. You said it Jack. I can't help being who I was born, but that doesn't mean I can't live my life as who I am. Tanya referred to me as male, but she accepted me as a woman. Skyler and Penny, they're not two different people. They're both me. Without one, there wouldn't be the other."

"Remember," she went on excitedly, "I told you how hard it was for me to go home, because of all the reminders of Skyler? Well," she went on, the question apparently being rhetorical, " it's not a problem any longer. Of course my parents remember me as their son and my sisters as their brother. That's who I am and who I will always be to them, but they accept me as Penny. I want you to meet them, Jack."

"Me, meet your parents? I, ah, umm, I, ah, don't think I'm ready for that."

"Every woman brings her prospective husband home to meet her parents. They'll love you, Jack, just like I do."

"You said we can't get married in this state," I equivocated.

"Technicalities will not get you out of it. One of us has to be a man about this," she said with a laugh. "I nominate you."

"Seconded, if we can start practicing for our honeymoon when we get home."

"Deal."

I took my hand off the wheel and put my arm around her. "Penny, I love you."

"And I love you, Jack," she responded with a contented sigh.

"Penny."

"Yes, Jack."

"Forever isn't long enough."

"Well," she replied snuggling against me, "let's begin with forever and go on from there."

"Deal."

The next week was the best ever. Penny was happy, excited and affectionate, although not always in that order. She made arrangements for the same minister to officiate at the commitment ceremony who held the memorial service for Dawn. One end and one beginning seemed right to me. I tried to encourage Penny to wear a bridal gown. I pictured her in white satin and lace with a wreath of flowers in her hair and a veil. She said no, it wasn't appropriate. "Doesn't every little girl dream of being a bride and walking down the aisle in a beautiful wedding dress?" I argued.

"Not having been a little girl, I can't answer that question," Penny retorted. Her concession was a bridal nightgown, "just for you Jack." I had no complaints with the consolation prize.

On Thursday, she announced that we were having dinner with her parents and sisters on Sunday.

"What, so soon!" I exclaimed. "I'm not ready. I umm, I, ah, umm," I tried to come up with an excuse. "I don't have anything to wear," was the best I could do.

"You have lots of clothes, Jack," Penny contradicted me.

"Ah, umm, not really nice clothes to meet your family."

"What happened to your preference for comfort over style?"

"Really, Penny, how many times do I have to prove I'm an idiot, before you stop listening to me?"

She motioned for me to bend down and whispered in my ear, "one million, two hundred and sixty-two thousand, seven hundred and eleven. You're not even close, but don't give up." Then she kissed my ear and made it ring. Before I could recover and protest, she concluded with, "I will take you shopping on Saturday, if that's what it takes to get you to meet my family."

Ah hah, for once you are going to win this cat and mouse game, I assured myself, coming up with the perfect excuse. "Oh, I have a visit with Dimitri planned for Saturday," I reminded her so, "so we can't go shopping." One for the mouse.

"The stores at the mall are open until ten on Saturday, Jack. There will be plenty of time for us to shop after your visit," she purred.

Cat wins by letting mouse think he escaped and then pouncing. Mouse should learn to say, "yes, dear," to cat.

Saturday came and Penny was waiting when I got home. "What about dinner?" I inquired, hoping to stall long enough that it would be too late.

"There's a food court at the mall," Penny countered. "You can grab a bite there."

"A food court, great. I've been dying for a double cheeseburger with fries and a chocolate shake, mmm," I threatened, playing on Penny's nutritional prejudices.

"Sounds great, Jack. You deserve a reward."

So much for reverse psychology. Cat two, mouse zero.

Penny drove to the mall and parked. She took my arm and we went in. Keeping hold of me, she navigated through the maze of stores. Most of them were for women. The one with the sexy underwear in the window caught my eye and I stopped.

"Jack, really," Penny said sternly, "we are shopping for you." She looked at the window and then at me. "I don't think they have your size. Would you like to go in and I can ask?" She teased me. We moved on.

Once in the department store, Penny checked the directory. Seeing that she didn't know where we were going, I wondered about the last time that she shopped for men's clothes or maybe it was boy's clothes. It struck me that I didn't know when she began dressing as a woman. She had sisters. They were younger, so probably their clothes would have been too small. Did she ask her mother to buy clothes for her or did she wait until she was old enough to shop for herself. Not that it made any difference. I was quite happy with the result.

My thoughts were interrupted by Penny tugging on my arm.

"Come on, Jack. The men's department is on the third floor. Let's go."

"A penny for your thoughts," I punned to myself.

We took the escalator. When we arrived at our destination, Penny released me. She went over to a table and began to browse. I started looking at suits. I picked out a dark blue pinstripe. Penny noticed my selection and came over.

"Jack?"

"What?"

"Why are you looking at suits?"

"Why shouldn't I be?" I answered defensively.

"I'm sure you will look very handsome, but everyone else will be dressed casually."

Penny frowned. I thought it was because of her disapproval of my selection. I gave her a sheepish look. Her face softened and she shook her head.

"I'm not the wardrobe warden," she conceded apologetically, "wear whatever you like."

"Then we have a problem, because my wardrobe needs supervision." I hung the suit back on the rack.

Penny hugged my arm and directed me over to the table with sweaters. She picked up one with shades of tan and grey in diamond patterns."

"This argyle would like nice with charcoal slacks," she recommended. "Do you like it?"

"Yes."

She looked around and spotted a salesman lounging against a counter. I assumed it had been a long day and he was thinking about getting home, popping a cold one and putting his feet up on the coffee table while he watched the sports recap. Penny had no such consideration.

"Excuse me," she roused him, "we need some help."

He came over. Penny told him that we, it was kind of her to include me, wanted some slacks to go with the sweater, charcoal she thought.

"Wool or cotton, Mam?"

"Cotton. What do you think, Jack?"

"Umm, cotton, yes, that would be good."

"What size?"

"Jack?"

"34 waist, 33 or 34 leg, usually."

He went over to a table, looked through one of the stacks and returned with a pair. He held them out for her approval.

"We don't have time to have them hemmed, um, cuffed," she corrected herself, "so we better make sure they are right. Are those the shoes you are going to wear with them, Jack?"

"Oh, umm, yeah, I guess so."

"Why don't you try them on."

I hated trying on clothes, but I wanted to look good for Penny's family, so I made the concession. The salesman handed me the pants and directed me to the dressing rooms. I put them on. They looked okay to me, but I wanted to consult Penny. I walked out. She was waiting. The salesman had gone back to his counter.

"The length seems good. You're the one who has to wear them, what do you think?

"I think they're okay."

"Go change and I will pay."

"Penny, no," I asserted my manly pride. "You don't need to buy clothes for me."

"I don't need to, but I want to. Please, Jack, it would make me happy."

No Penny, I don't want to make you happy. Mouse surrenders to cat. "Yes, dear."

"What?"

"I said good idea. I'll go change."

She gave me a big smile and went off to complete the transaction. When I came out, she was waiting. I handed her the pants. She took them over to the sales counter, the salesman removed the security button, put them in a bag and handed it to Penny. We started to leave.

"You know, I should probably get a shirt too."

"You have shirts and with the sweater on all you'll see is the collar."

"They're kind of worn, Penny. What would you parents think?"

"Dressed in your new outfit and with me on your arm, I'm sure they will think that you have exceptionally good taste in clothes and women, but it's up to you. Maybe something in one of the colors of the sweater," she suggested.

"Okay, but I'm paying for it."

We went back and looked through the shirts. She picked out one in light beige and compared it to the sweater."

"This goes."

I brought it up to the sales counter and paid for it. As we were heading through the mall, my stomach grumbled, reminding me I had skipped dinner.

"What about getting something to eat? I'm really hungry. You said we could stop at the food court," I reminded her.

"Yes, we can do that."

I could tell from her voice that she wasn't happy about it. "What's wrong with the food court?" as if I didn't know.

"Forever isn't on the menu."

"Let's go home."

"Oh, Jack," Penny said appreciatively, "you'd give up a cheeseburger, fries and a shake for me?

"I give up anything in the world for you."

"I don't deserve you."

"Nobody deserves me, but I'm yours anyway."

"Yes, well, finders keepers."

And loser weepers, I reminded myself.

We continued through the mall to the parking lot, found the car and headed back to the apartment.

"Jack, would you like a pizza?"

"Are you serious," I asked skeptically.

"Uh huh. I know a great place on the way home. They make their own stone ground whole wheat crust with organic tomato sauce and soy cheese. We can top it off with roasted veggies."

"Okay, sounds good," I agreed as enthusiastically as possible, given my expectation that the box would taste better than its contents. Real mice don't eat soy cheese.

The next morning we slept late. Well, actually, we were both anxious so we slept in the biblical sense, like in Joseph slept with Sarah and begat Abraham, although I never could keep the genealogy straight, and she, Penny that is, couldn't get begotten, which is good, unless you're trying to beget, which we weren't. Afterwards, Penny got up and started breakfast. I put on my robe and headed down to the lobby to get the Sunday paper.

"Jack, where are you going?"

"To get the paper?" I answered cautiously.

"In your bathrobe? What if one of one of the neighbors sees you?"

"I'm sure they've seen a man in a bathrobe. If they haven't, then they're in for a treat."

"Jack, seriously, please put on some clothes."

"How about if I just carry some boxing gloves and tell them I'm a contender off to defend my title. I have my boxers on." I opened my robe and flashed my underwear.

"Jack, we don't have any boxing gloves and I doubt anyone would take you seriously with big red hearts on your trunks."

"Well, you bought them for me," I reminded her.

"Yes, but I didn't intend to share them." Penny put her hands on her hips and playfully scolded me. "Really, Jack, in the time it took you to think up this elaborate excuse, you could have changed and gotten the paper."

"I know, but it wouldn't be as much fun." I went back to the bedroom and put on a warm-up suit. On my way back to the door, Penny stopped me.

"Jack!"

"What?"

"You're barefoot."

"You didn't say anything about my feet."

Penny shook her head in exasperation.

Having retrieved the Sunday paper without further incident, I sorted it into the relevant sections, sports, comics, tv and the crossword for me and the rest of for her. Penny finished cleaning up from breakfast. We didn't have to be at her parents until five o'clock. It was about a forty-five minute drive, since there wouldn't be any rush hour traffic on a Sunday. I started on the crossword.

"Jack, why don't you shower and shave?"

"Why? We have lots of time."

"I know, but I can't do my hair and makeup if the bathroom's all steamy."

There was only the one small bathroom, which we shared. Usually, there was no problem, because Penny got up earlier and left for work before I did. It required more coordination on weekends. I put down the crossword and my pencil.

"Not a problem."

My shaving cream and razor took up a corner of the vanity. The rest of counter and the top of the toilet tank were covered with an assortment of implements to shape, curl and brush, together with a containers in various shapes and sizes. As far as I was concerned, Penny was perfect, but that didn't stop her from trying to improve on perfection. Having spent the fifteen minutes necessary for my own personal grooming, I swapped places with her and got dressed, which required another ten minutes without the complications of a knotting a tie so the ends came out even.

I returned to the living room . By the time I finished the crossword, Penny was ready. She came out and modeled, walking slowly, swinging her hips and holding her arms out to the side. She always wore skirts or dresses and heels to work. I assume it made her feel more feminine, not that she needed it. Today she had on dark blue tailored pants, a purplish sweater with a scooped neck and low heels. I whistled appreciatively, provoking a smile.

"Do I look okay, Jack," she posed the question Eve asked Adam after consuming the forbidden fruit and to which no man has yet come up with the correct answer.

"Umm, I, well, no."

"No? Oh, I can change. Maybe a blouse instead of the sweater? Would that look better?"

"It's not what you have on. You look great, but there's something missing."

"Missing?"

She put her hands to her ears to check her earrings then down to her neck."

"Oh, for goodness sake, Jack, you are so observant. I forgot to put on my necklace. I'll be right back." She turned and started back towards the bedroom.

"Wait, Penny, it's not your necklace."

She stopped and turned back with a puzzled look on her face.

"Jack, what is it. Please, tell me so I can finish getting dressed. I don't want to be late."

"We have plenty of time."

She rolled her eyes. "Jack Blaine," she never used my full name unless she was mad at me, "if you are playing games, today of all days, so help me," she threatened.

"It's your finger, Penny."

"My finger?"

She held out her hands and checked her nails.

"What about my fingers?"

"Not fingers, plural, finger, singular." I reached into my pocket and took at a small blue velvet box. I handed it to her. She looked at the box, she looked at me, she looked at the box, her lip began to quiver and her hand shook.

"Jack, you couldn't, you shouldn't, you didn't, you, you..."

"Open it, Penny," I interrupted her.

She opened the box and gasped.

"Oh, Oh, Jack, Oh, Jack."

I can't remember Penny ever being at a loss of words before. I congratulated myself on pulling off the surprise.

"Put it on, Penny."

"I, I, can't, Jack, my hands are shaking."

She handed me the box.

"You do it, please."

I took out the ring. She held out her left hand. I slipped it on her ring finger. She held her hand out with her fingers spread to admire it.

"I wasn't sure about the size. The jewelry store gave me one of those ring measuring sticks to check one of your rings, but I had to guess which one you wore on that finger."

"It's perfect, Jack. I love it and I love you. This is the best day of my life and now you've messed up my makeup," she accused me with tears in her eyes. "Oh, what the heck," she rushed forward and gave me a hundred passionate kisses, give or take a few dozen. I wasn't keeping count. Finally, she got control of her emotions and headed off to the bathroom to repair the damage. After her amorous appreciation, I needed to rearrange myself as well. Eventually, we were both presentable enough to go out in public.

"You should drive," I recommended, "since you know how to go."

We got in her car and headed for the highway. Penny had both hands on the wheel and I could see her glancing at her left hand every few minutes. I sat with a contented smile on my face.

"It's beautiful, Jack," she complimented me.

"It's a real diamond, Penny. I wanted you to have the best. You deserve it."

"Jack, don't you dare make me cry again."

She was quiet for a few minutes and then I could see her get a funny look on her face.

"Jack?"

"Yes, Penny?"

"Why wasn't your car in its parking space?"

"My car?"

"Yes, your car. The one you drive to work everyday."

"Oh, that car."

"Yes, Jack, that car. Where is it?"

"I, umm, I, you know, it was a piece of junk. It was in the shop more than it was on the road. What with the cost of repairs and gas, I figured I'd be better off using public transportation. I can catch a bus right outside the building and it stops a couple of blocks from my office. I need to get more exercise," I justified my decision.

"And what about when you need to do surveillance? You can't do that on a bus."

"Ahh, I can rent a car and charge it to my client," quick thinking, Jack.

"Jack, you aren't fooling me. Your clients aren't going to pay you extra. Seriously, Jack, what in the world were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that I love you more than anything and that I would have sold a kidney to buy you a ring, but you would have killed me for having an internal organ removed without consulting you, so the car was a better choice."

Penny started to cry. She pulled over to the side of the road and stopped. Releasing her seatbelt, she put her arms around me. Maybe you're not as big an idiot as you think you are, Jack. Finally, she composed herself. Taking out a compact, she turned her head from side to side observing herself.

"Well, Jack, are you satisfied. I'm a mess again," she sniffled.

"Yes, very satisfied, thank you, and you still look beautiful to me."

"If you make me cry again, Jack, you're going to get it."

"Really? You mean we can go home and make love?"

That got a big smile.

"You don't know the half of it, but first things first."

I wondered which half of it was the one I didn't know and looked forward to finding out.

"Let's switch places," Penny suggested. "You drive while I restore my appearance. Just keep going until the exit for Beaverbrook, turn left at the bottom of the ramp onto Route 28 and keep going for about five miles. There's a convenience store on the right. You can pull in. I'll be done by then and we can switch back."

I drove while Penny rehabilitated her makeup. She had finished by the time I pulled into the parking lot. Giving herself a final review in the rear-view mirror, she gave a nod of approval. I turned off the motor, got out and walked around to the passenger's side. Penny slid over behind the wheel. I got in and she pulled out.

After about five minutes of silence, I began, "Penny, you never..."

"Please, Jack, please don't say anything that will make me cry again," she cautioned me.

"Uh, no, I was going to say that you never told me about your family." I was pretty sure that was a safe topic.

"Oh, yes, I can do that," she agreed. " Helen, my mother, is an elementary special ed teacher. Art, my father, it's Arthur, but he likes to be called Art, teaches high school science. Chrissy, that's her name, people always think that its short for Christine, teaches first grade and Janet is the human resource director for a technology company. That's my family. You know, Jack," Penny turned the conversation to me, " you've never told me anything about your family."

"Yes, I know. There' nothing much to tell, which is why I never told you."

"You're not getting off that easy. Please, I want to know about my future in-laws."

"Hardly. Agnes, my mother, she hated her name. She though it sounded too old fashioned and changed it to Angela, not legally, but she always called herself that. If I wanted to make her mad, I'd use her real name. That was usually good for a couple of whacks with whatever she could get her hands on, if she could catch me. She worked as a waitress until she got married. My father was Jack. He was a salesman. He died in an automobile accident when I was little. Just one car." I shrugged. "The police officer who came to the apartment said he fell asleep and went off the road. I was Jack, junior, but since he died I'm not junior anymore."

"I'm sorry about your father, Jack," Penny interjected. "It must have been hard growing up without one. I bet that's one reason you enjoy being a big brother."

"I never really thought of it that way. I suppose so. Anyway, Mom went back to waitressing to support us. She remarried when I was in high school. I didn't like Chuck, her new husband. I used to call him Chuckles. Agnes and Chuckles. They, well he, threw me out when I turned eighteen. I've been on my own ever since."

"Do you see your mother?"

"No. They moved to Florida and good riddance."

"Jack, how can you say that about your own mother."

"You would too, if you knew her. She did what she had to while my father was alive. After he died, it was all about her."

"I'm sorry that you had such a sad childhood, Jack."

"Don't be. I wouldn't change anything in my life. It brought us together."

"Jack," Penny sniffled, " you promised you wouldn't make me cry again."

"You are the one who wanted to know about me."

"True," Penny sighed. Then she brightened up. "Look Jack, we're almost there."

We turned onto a tree lined side street. On either side were beautiful houses. Some were two stories and others were one, but they all had well kept lawns with bushes and flowers. Penny kept going until the road ended in a cul-de-sac.

"This is it, Jack," she announced, as we pulled into the driveway of a light grey house with black shutters and a matching front door.

I got out and Penny joined me. She hooked her arm in mine. We walked to the front door. There was a doorbell, but she used the brass lion's head knocker, rapping three times. I guessed it was a family thing. When there was no answer, she rapped three times again. Almost immediately the bolt clicked and the door opened.

"Penny, dear," an attractive woman greeted her with open arms. She looked to be in her fifties, shorter than Penny, brunette hair held up by some type of clip and well dressed in grey pants, a cream colored collared shirt with a black sweater over it and a pearl necklace. They hugged. Penny let go and turned towards me, taking my arm and guiding me forward.

"Mommy, this is Jack," she introduced me.

"Hello, Jack, welcome. It's nice to meet you" she said warmly.

I put out my hand. She ignored it, putting her arms around me and kissing me on the cheek.

"Uh, hi, Mrs. Johnson," I managed to get out after she stood back.

"Helen, please."

"Uh, Helen."

Excellent start, Jack. Very suave. It's a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for inviting me to your beautiful home. 'Hi' was the best you could do to impress her? I glanced at Penny, but she didn't seem particularly concerned by my lack of social skills.

"Come in." She stood back and held the door.

Penny kept me in tow as we entered a foyer. There was a doorway on either side, a set of stairs straight ahead and a hallway to the left. The wood floor was covered with an oriental rug and another long oriental rug went down the hallway. Against one wall there was a small dark wood table with a mirror above it and beside it was a large vase with an oriental design holding an umbrella.

"Penny, dear, Daddy's in the living room. Why don't you take Jack in and introduce him, then help me in the kitchen?"

I doubted that Mrs. Johnson was incapable of preparing dinner without Penny and assumed that it was a considerate way to give Mr. Johnson and me time to get acquainted.

Penny hesitated, looking at me for confirmation that I didn't mind being alone with her father. I gave her a small nod. She smiled and took my arm, escorting me through the doorway on the right. It was a large room with a fireplace in the center of the outside wall. I noticed the pictures on the mantle, particularly the family group with two young girls and a boy. At the far end of the room, Mr. Johnson was sitting in an upholstered arm chair. He stood up when he saw us come in. Penny brought me over to him.

"Daddy, this is Jack."

She released my arm and I put out my hand. Not having to deal with unanticipated affection, I was better prepared.

"Hello, Mr. Johnson. I'm pleased to meet you."

He shook my hand. Not a bone crushing he man challenge, but firm enough so that it was obviously a test. I returned the manly grip.

He released my hand with a small nod of acknowledgment. I complimented myself and hoped that Penny noticed. I didn't want to lose eye contact, so I couldn't look at her to see.

"Daddy, mommy wants me to help her in the kitchen."

Penny turned and left. Mr. Johnson motioned for me to sit on the couch and waited for me to get settled. We sat smiling politely at each other.

"Uh, Mr. Johnson, uh, Penny, she," I began to make conversation, "she told me that you named her after a tv show. I mean, uh, not after the show. After one of the people, the characters, in the show and, well, you know," doh, Jack, of course he knows, come on, "she took a different name from the show," and the point is what, Jack? "Well, uh, I was wondering, I'd really like to know more about it. She said you had the videotapes. Do you think I could borrow them?"

Mr. Johnson looked surprised.

"You know, Jack, I haven't thought about the 'Sky King' show for years. So Penny remembered."

"Yes, sir."

"She and I spent a lot of time together watching them," he reminisced.

I noted that he referred to Penny as 'she', even though she was a he at the time.

"I'm not sure what I did with the videos, but I'm sure I can find them for you. Remind me before you leave and I'll look for them."

"I will, sir."

Our conversation was interrupted by the door knocker. Mr. Johnson got up.

"That must be Chrissy and Janet. Excuse me Jack."

I started to get up. He put out his hand to stop me.

"Stay there. I'll be right back."

I listened to pleasant greetings and then Mr. Johnson returned with a woman on each arm. I couldn't tell who was who, so I politely stood up and waited for an introduction. They let go of their father's arm.

"Jack, this is Chrissy." He looked towards the blonde on his right.

"Hello.

Turning to the brunette on his left, "and this is Janet."

"Hello."

They were both very pretty. Chrissy was the more dramatic of the two, with shoulder length hair and bangs framing her face. I doubted that it did much for her first graders, but their fathers probably got poked in the ribs by their wives for being too attentive at the parent-teacher conferences. Janet looked more professional. Her hair was shorter and she wore less jewelry and makeup. Even so, she must have had her share of attentive male executives.

"Where's Penny?" Janet asked.

"In the kitchen with your mother helping her with dinner," Mr. Johnson answered.

Chrissy and Janet looked at each other in silent twin speak. I assumed they were agreeing that whatever was going on, it wasn't culinary. They both gave a small shrug and turned to me.

"Well, Jack," Chrissy purred, moving forward and cuddling my arm, "Penny certainly has good taste in men. Mmmm," she sighed.

I assumed this was also a test of my gender preference. Either that or Chrissy just liked to be provocative. Since I'd never considered myself much of a ladies man, although that may not be the appropriate turn of phrase under the circumstances, I suspected it was the former. I looked at Janet for a clue.

"Really, Chrissy, do get off the poor man."

I couldn't tell if they were in cahoots and doing the good sister, bad sister act, or Janet was sticking up for Penny's interest. It didn't matter. I played along.

"It's okay, Janet, I'm used to beautiful women throwing themselves at me."

Chrissy looked at Janet and neither could keep a straight face.

"See, I told you he wouldn't fall for it, Chrissy."

At this point, Mr. Johnson interceded.

"Really, girls, enough. Jack is a guest and I expect you to treat him accordingly." Obviously, Mr. Johnson still had authority. Chrissy and Janet were contrite.

"We're sorry, Jack," Janet apologized for both of them. "Let's begin again." She held out her hand. "Hello, I'm Janet."

"Hello, Janet, I'm Jack." I waited for Chrissy to take her turn.

"Hello, Jack, I'm Chrissy."

"How do you do, Chrissy. I am pleased to make your acquaintance," I replied formally, in contrast to her intimacy earlier. Both women broke into big smiles. Their enjoyment of our meeting was interrupted by the arrival of Penny and her mother. Additional greetings and hugs were exchanged. Then Chrissy spied Penny's engagement ring.

"Look, she's got a ring!" she exclaimed excitedly.

Janet took Penny's hand and admired the ring. "It's beautiful. Congratulations, Sis."

"Congratulations to you both," Chrissy added.

"I take it you have met my sisters, Jack?"

"Your father introduced them."

Chrissy and Janet couldn't keep a straight face. Penny gave me a strange look.

"What have you two been up to?" she challenged them.

"Up to? Us, Penny, why whatever do you mean?" Janet replied, trying to sound innocent.

"Have you two been giving, Jack a hard time?"

"I tried, but I don't think so," Chrissy confessed with a pretend pout.

She and Janet broke into laughs again. Penny shook her head at her sister's foolishness.

"All right, everyone, lets go into the dining room. Dinner's ready," Mrs. Johnson refocused the conversation.

Mrs. Johnson led the way. Penny took my arm and we followed her from the living room, across the entry hall and through the opposite doorway. There was a long dining table with a white linen tablecloth set with china, crystal and silverware. There were real cloth napkins at each place setting. In the center were two candlesticks, a glass pitcher of ice water and a dish with carrot and celery sticks. Mr. Johnson took the seat at the end of the table in front of the windows. Penny led me to far side of the table. Chrissy and Janet sat opposite us, leaving the chair at the end near the door, which I assumed was most convenient to the kitchen, for Mrs. Johnson. Once everyone was seated, Mrs. Johnson left and returned with a big tureen. She came over to serve me first.

"Jack, this is split pea soup with barley. It's one of Penny's favorites and I know she won't eat the main course. Would you like some?" She held the ladle waiting for my answer.

"Yes, please, Mrs. Johnson, it smells delicious."

She made a small frown, which I assumed was because of my not being more familiar.

"Thank you, Helen," I redeemed myself, after she finished.

"Your welcome, Jack. Penny?"

"Yes, of course," she confirmed enthusiastically.

The main course was a roast, a rare treat, a little joke to myself, since meat of any persuasion was not allowed in Penny's kitchen. Baked potatoes and steamed broccoli, which I assumed were additional concessions to Penny's diet, and hot rolls completed the menu. I noticed a dish of butter and wondered if I should risk it. Not the cholesterol. Penny stabbing me in the hand with her fork as I reached for it. Hmm, then again, Mr. Johnson wouldn't be at risk if I asked him to pass it to me. While I was scheming, Mr. Johnson opened a bottle of wine and asked me if I'd like some. I accepted and he filled a glass, passing it to Penny who handed it to me and returned my empty glass. Everyone politely waited while the process was repeated until we all had wine. Looking to Mrs. Johnson, who nodded, he raised his glass.

"A toast to Penny and Jack. May they have a long and happy relationship."

I noticed that he did not use the words 'marriage' or 'engagement'. Considering that they must have reservations about me, it was understandable. I considered whether I should respond and decided I should. I stood up.

"Mr. Johnson, Mrs., uh, Helen, Chrissy and Janet, thank you for welcoming me to your home. I, uh, I, uh, I know you are wondering about me. Honestly, I don't know what I am. Until I met Penny, I thought I liked women. I still do." I looked at Penny. "I'm, sorry, but I need to say this." She gave me a curious look, not being able to anticipate what it was that required an apology in advance. "Until recently, Penny was, well, it was difficult for her to come home, because of how you remembered her." I glanced at Penny. She looked at me skeptically as to why I would reveal her confidence. " Penny came to understand that it isn't necessary for you to forget who she was. What matters is that you love her and accept her as she is. So do I."

I looked at Penny lovingly, hoping that she wouldn't be hurt by my disclosure. I could see that she was trying to control her emotions, but it was a losing battle. She made a little whimper, then a small sob and then burst into tears. Damn, Jack, well done. You've embarrassed her in front of her whole family. Penny stood up holding her napkin to her eyes. Ms. Johnson got up to comfort her. She put her arm around her shoulder and guided her around the table towards the hallway, disappearing up the upstairs. Chrissy and Janet followed after them, leaving me at the table with Mr. Johnson.

I was still standing after the women had left. Mr. Johnson got to his feet. Oh, oh, Jack, he's going to throw you out. It's a long walk home, assuming you still have a home, which is doubtful, but you deserve it. There's nothing you can do. Take it like a man. Strange, but that's how this all started I thought to myself, you being a man. Mr. Johnson raised his right hand. It took me a moment to realize that he was offering to shake. Could it be that he wasn't mad? Whatever the reason, I accepted his approval.

"Welcome to the family, Jack."

"Uh, thanks, thank you, Mr. Johnson."

He motioned for me to sit. "Call me Art. We might as well get started while it's hot. Who knows when the women will be back." He gave a shrug to express his lack of understanding. I hesitated. "No, really, here," he served me from the platter. "Potato and vegetable?"

"Yes, please." He added them to my plate and handed it to me. He gave himself an equally generous serving. Taking advantage of Penny's absence, I scored a role and buttered it, adding a big pat to my potato. Well done, Jack, another small joke to myself, you've ingratiated yourself with Penny's father and your digestive system.

"Go ahead, start," he repeated, lifting his wine glass and holding it out. I picked up my glass and returned the toast. He started to eat and I joined him, both to be polite and because I wasn't really sure if Penny would approve of the feast. Better to be contrite on a full stomach.

We were almost through the first helping when we heard the women coming down the stairs. I looked through the doorway and Penny was beside her mother with Chrissy and Janet behind them. They returned to their seats. I gave a look approximating a puppy who had piddled on the rug and was hoping to avoid being swatted with a newspaper, serving the dual purpose of apologizing for making her cry again and for my gluttony. She smiled back, which I took to mean either it wasn't necessary or I was forgiven, which of the two didn't matter, because it was followed by a kiss on my cheek. That got Chrissy and then Janet to ring their wine glasses with their knives. Penny looked at me, I looked at her and we complied with an impressive smooch. I wondered whether Mr. and Mrs. Johnson would approve and was delighted to hear them join in the applause. Of course, that encouraged the sisters to repeat their request, but Penny shook her head. They pretended to look disappointed.

"Please Chrissy and Janet, I need to let my emotions calm down. I don't want to redo my makeup a fourth time."

"Fourth?" questioned Chrissy.

"Really?" added Janet.

"Yes, four, really," Penny confirmed. "The first was when Jack gave me the ring. That was before we left to come here. The second was on our way, when I found out that Jack had sold his car to buy the ring and a third... ," she was interrupted by Janet.

"Jack sold his car? No way."

"Yes, he did Janet, for me, because I'm more important than ...," she broke off. "Oh for goodness sake." She dabbed at her eyes. "Please, can't we just eat our dinner?"

"Girls," Mrs. Johnson scolded them like naughty children, "enough. I do not want you upsetting your sister." There was no hesitation in her reference. "Now behave or else," she issued the traditional parental threat.

"Yes mother," Chrissy and Janet acknowledge in unison and then broke into laughs, obviously understanding that it was unlikely that they would be sent to their rooms without dessert if they disobeyed.

Mr. Johnson served the meal. I got a second helping. Penny took just the vegetables. The conversation during dinner was mostly about work. Everybody was fascinated by me being a PI until I disillusioned them with my boring exploits. Dessert was something I had never tasted. Mrs. Johnson called it Indian pudding. It was brown and about the consistency of oatmeal. I looked at Penny, wondering if it was something she liked. Except for the meat, the meal seemed to be planned for her. She explained that it was basically cornmeal and molasses, both natural ingredients, so it was a healthy dessert. Contrary to both its recipe and its appearance, it was delicious.

After dinner, Mr. Johnson invited me into the family room while the women cleaned up. Along one wall were cabinets above which were shelves full of books. Mr. Johnson went over to one of the cabinets, opened it and began to rummage around. He pulled out a number of albums and put them on the floor. Eventually, he found what he was looking for and took out a large box. "Aha," I knew they were here." He brought it over to show me. "These are all of the 'Sky King' episodes. They're collectors items." He handed me the box. "Here. You do have a VCR that can play these?"

"Yes. I use videos in my surveillance work, so I have a good one at my office. I'm going to bring it home so Penny and I can watch them. Thank you, Mr., um, Art, I'll be very careful with them."

"You're welcome, Jack."

"Mr., um, Art, could I, could I ask you... ?" I hesitated. He looked at me curiously.

"Go ahead, Jack, ask me what?"

"Well, I was wondering if I could look at some of the family albums while we were waiting?"

"You want to see Penny when she was... ," he broke off his sentence.

"When she was a boy," I finished it. "Yes, we, um, ah, we, well, you know, we sleep together. There are no secrets between us." Not exactly the most delicate way to reassure Penny's father, Jack, but he didn't seem to be bothered by our consorting.

"Oh, oh, ah yes, I, ah sure, if you want to." He waved his hand towards the albums meaning for me to make a selection. I picked up the one on top. I opened it and found pictures of Penny when I guessed she must have been about ten. She could have been older or younger, but she didn't look like a teenager and she didn't look like a little kid either. There they all were, the girls in party dresses and Penny, or then Skyler, dressed as a typical young boy. I thumbed through the album and then exchanged it for another and another. Mr. Johnson watched without comment. Younger or older, there was only Skyler.

I was still going though the albums when Penny came in. I could see Mrs. Johnson and the girls giving each other concerned looks. Penny turned and happily asked them to join me. With her approval, we spent over an hour reminiscing. I particularly liked the photo at the beach when they were little. Chrissy and Janet were in pink polka dot two piece bathing suits with a ruffled skirt covering the bottom and matching ruffled top. Penny was bare chested and wearing a pair of baggy brown trunks. Things had certainly changed since then. Around eight thirty Mrs. Johnson went to the kitchen and returned carrying a try with mugs, a carafe of coffee, a tea pot and the usual condiments. We chatted until about nine and then it was time to go, since we all had to work the next day.

Mr. and Mrs. Johnson walked us to the door. I said goodbye to Penny's parents and turned to Chrissy and Janet. The next thing I knew, Chrissy had me in a lip lock. I made the requisite initial struggle and then returned the kiss. "He definitely likes women," she announced. She stepped back and Janet took her place. "I concur, sister, although there is a more reliable measure."

"Sorry ladies," Penny interceded, "but there's only one person who is going to be measuring reliable around here." That got everyone laughing. We all left and walked to our cars. Penny wanted me to drive. I opened the door for her and she slid in. As I was walking around, Chrissy and Janet were waiting.

"Jack, you're a good sport to put up with us, but know this. Whatever Penny may think, as far as we're concerned she's our sister and anyone who says otherwise is going to have to come through us." They both raised their fists. They had to be the two nicest women I had ever met. This time we just gave warm hugs to each other.

Getting in the car, Penny asked me what we were talking about. "They said I was a lucky man, which I already knew." She wanted to know why they made fists. "Your little sisters are very protective," I covered up to avoid another emotional outbreak.

I needed to concentrate on following Penny's directions, so there was no further conversation until we got on the highway. "I really like your family. Thank you for bringing me to meet them."

"Why on earth wouldn't I want you to meet them. I love you and they love you too. You are very loveable. Besides, you're the son they wanted and thought they had," she said with a laugh."

"If you say so, but, I was wondering. Could we get married? I would really like to be a member of your family. I know we can't do it here, but someplace else? Then it would be official."

"A piece of paper isn't going to change how they feel, but, if it's important to you, I have lots of vacation time. We can get married legally, but as I recall you're out of automobiles to pay for it, so how about if we work on one wedding at a time?"

"I still have two kidneys," I joked.

"You still have two of a lot of body parts that are removable," she teased me back.

"Okay, I, well, I just felt so comfortable with them. Penny?"

"Yes, Jack?"

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

"You can ask me anything andI will give you an honest answer, but be careful. The truth doesn't always set you free. Sometimes it just makes you unhappy."

"Its not that kind of a question. When did you become transgendered?"

I was suprised by her quick response. "I can't answer that question"

"Oh, that's okay, you don't have to if you don't want to. I understand."

"No, not won't, I can't. There is no answer."

"Then I don't understand."

Penny went into her lecture mode. "There are three theories, biological, psychological and a combination of the two. Some people contend that through some prenatal influence we are born with a female brain in a male body. That is how many transgendered men and women describe themselves. It would be comforting to find out that being transgendered is the result of a developmental process over which we have no control. The problem with that theory is that animals, even primates, don't have gender preferences, at least as far as we know. Since we can't experiment on humans, there is no way to prove it. Others believe that it is behavioral. At some point in our early development we become imprinted with the opposite gender. The problem with that theory is that it would mean that we can be reoriented, which has not proven to work. Most likely, being transgendered is a combination. Many lower organisms are both male and female. It is only in higher animals that there are biologically separate sexes, but not necessarily psychologically. Perhaps for one reason or another some of us are not as good at suppressing our opposite gender as others. Does that answer you question?"

"No, not really."

"Now I don't understand."

"That wasn't my question."

"It wasn't? Then why did you let me go on."

"It was interesting. It just wasn't what I wanted to know."

"Okay, then what was it you did want to know?"

"Well, when I was looking through the photos in the albums I was curious to see if there were any with you as Penny. Sometimes for Halloween boys dress as girls. There weren't any, so I was wondering when you became Penny."

She laughed. "That's an easy question to answer. I was always envious of my sisters. No, envious isn't the right word," she corrected herself, "more like disappointed. They did the same things I did, but for some reason I couldn't do the things they did. I couldn't understand it, but there wasn't anything I could do about it. At least not then. In high school, I had friends who were girls, but I never had a girlfriend. There were pictures of me going to my proms, but my dates were for mutual convenience, A kiss on the cheek goodnite. Things changed when I got to college. There was a very active GLBT organization on campus."

"Those are the same initials as in your agency, right?"

"Yes, gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgedered," she confirmed. "I'm not sure what got me involved with them initially, but it was like a light went on when I found out that there were others who felt like I did. They were supportive and I began to allow myself to become more openly feminine. I let my hair grow, started using skin preparations, not makeup, just to make me look softer, had manicures, although no colored nail polish, cleaned up my eyebrows and I started closet cross-dressing. I was still worried about coming out, but it was getting to be increasingly difficult for me to deny my feelings. When I went home for spring break, it was obvious that I had changed. I explained it to my family as best I could. It was very difficult. My parents were upset. I don't think it was as much their having to deal with it as their worrying about my having to deal with it. After that, well, Chrissy and Janet took to the idea of having a big sister." Penny laughed.

"I don't see what's so funny?"

"They insisted on taking me shopping for my first bra. It's the rite of passage into womanhood and they wanted to do it with me." The image of the two giggling teenagers taking their older brother shopping for a bra tickled me too. "Yes, it is classic, but at least I was spared the introduction to feminine protection products." That got both of us laughing. "When I went back to school, I began living as Penny. The GBLT helped me to make the necessary changes in my housing and class enrollment. Satisfied now?"

"I have always been satisfied, but now I'm no longer curious."

It was late when we got home, so my finding out the half of it that I didn't know had to be postponed. It turned out that I was familiar with that half after all, not that it wasn't fun to confirm it. The next week Penny was busy making the final arrangements. Her father generously offered to pay for the reception, considering the unanticipated expense of a third daughter. Penny said no. Although she celebrated diversity, it was not necessary for everyone to celebrate it together. Instead, he could pay for the rings we would exchange. The service was going to be on Saturday afternoon. Her office took up a collection and paid for a honeymoon that night in a very nice hotel, the bridal suite of course. Ginger's insisted on closing Sunday to hold a private party for us, even tough it was likely to be the same regulars who would be there if it was open. It was the thought that counted.

Saturday morning, Penny was up bright and early. As an expression of my devotion, I removed my meager male grooming equipment to the kitchen. On any other occasion, she would have been upset with my unsterile intrusion. I finished and got dressed. We had returned to the department store and I bought a suit. It was dark blue. I got a white shirt, a blue striped tie, black socks and new shoes too. The service was to begin at ten o'clock. Penny wanted to be at the church an hour early and it took about twenty minutes to get there. At a little after eight thirty, she emerged from the bedroom.

"Jack, how do I look?" she inquired, turning around so I could inspect her. She had on a cream colored dress with lace at the neck and cuffs, matching shoes and her hair and makeup were done to perfection. It wasn't a question that needed asking, but that didn't stop her. I knew she was going go ask me and I was ready. Yes, I had figured out the perfect answer and rehearsed it.

"You look like an angel."

"Really?"

This is where the rehearsal payed off. "If you looked any better, I couldn't control myself and you would have to start all over again."

"Jack, stop. You're just saying that."

Well, yes, but don't quit now. "Do you want me to prove it." I advanced towards her.

"Eek," she let out a little squeal and backed away, not sure if I was serious. "You wouldn't dare."

"Truth or dare?"

"Jack, I don't want to play games," she interposed. "Let's go or we'll be late. Oh, now you've got me all flustered. I forgot my purse. It's in the bedroom on the dresser. Be a dear and get it for me, please."

I dutifully fetched it and we walked to the door. "Penny, isn't it bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding?"

"Yes, but its worse luck if they only have one car and the groom misses the ceremony because she took it so he wouldn't see her and he had to walk to the church," she countered.

"I guess there are extenuating circumstances that require flexibility," I conceded as we waited for the elevator. "How about if I drive with my eyes shut?"

"I told you, I don't want to get married in the ICU," referring to the time I almost lost control of the car when she unexpectedly accepted my proposal.

"Actually, you'd look cute in one of those short hospital gowns with the opening up the back. Very convenient for the honeymoon."

"Then you don't want to see me in the nightgown I bought to wear tonight?"

"On second thought, I will be the most cautious of chauffeurs."

We pulled up to the front of the church. I got out, opened the door for Penny and she went in to meet with the minister. I drove around to the parking lot in back. Walking back, I waited on the steps for Penny's family to arrive. About ten minute later, a car pulled up and Mrs. Johnson, Crissy and Janet all got out. The sisters were both wearing matching fitted pink dresses with jackets. Mrs. Johnson had on a matching pink dress. The sister's previous display of affection was replaced by hand holding and light kisses on the cheek. We waited for Mr. Johnson to park and come in. I greeted him. The women went in to find Penny. Mr. Johnson and I stayed on the steps. A few minutes later another car pulled up. Betsy got out and opened the back door. She opened the back door. I was pleasantly surprised to see Tanya get out.

The women greeted me. I introduced them to Mr. Johnson. "Betsy is the social worker at the Big Brother Big Sisters agency that matched me with Dimitri, my little. My little brother," I added to clarify. "Tanya, is Dimitri's mother." They exchanged hellos. "Betsy is also going to be the best man." I turned to her. "Speaking of which, I thought you were going to wear your husband's tux."

"Considering the nature of the guests, I thought it would be disrespectful for me to pretend to be what some of them are and I'm not." I nodded my understanding and agreement.

"If you're going to stand up for Jack, then you should have this." Mr. Johnson reached into his pocket and took out a maroon velvet box. He handed it to her. She put it in her pocketbook. We all went in. Tanya found a seat. Betsy, Mr. Johnson and I went up to the altar. Penny wanted a more modern service, so she had a woman guitarist. As we took our places, she was singing the verse, "Oh, a man shall leave his mother, and a woman leave her home. They will travel on to where the two will be as one." I had this silly thought that there should be a transgendered version, because actually Penny didn't leave home as a woman, although she returned as one. When she had finished the song, the minster came out, followed by Penny, Mrs. Johnson and her sisters. It turns out that my answer to her earlier question about how she looked was true. She was an angel. The minister began. He used the words, "this couple," "take her to be your partner," and "commit," instead of the traditional service, but it didn't matter. I was proclaiming my love for her. He concluded with, "till death do you part." We both did. Betsy handed me the ring and I placed it on Penny's finger. The minister then pronounced us "life partners." There was a loud applause from the guests and of course I kissed my life partner like there would be no tomorrow, although there would be a lots of them.

We walked down the aisle to the well wishes and congratulations of our friends, punctuated with occasional blinding camera flashes recording the moment. Penny's family followed us. To my astonishment there was a long, white limousine waiting for us with the driver standing by the open rear door. I looked at Penny's family and her sisters nodded. We got in and drove off. There was a bucket with a bottle of champagne and two crystal glasses. We opened the bottle and raised a toast.

"Jack, look and see what my ring says inside." She wiggled it off of her finger and handed it to me. I carefully held it. The windows were tinted, so it was too dark for me to read the engraving. I found a button to turn on the side light. "JB to PJ" and the date. "Now, see what yours says." I handed her back her ring, which she slipped on her finger, then worked mine off. Holding it up I read, "PJ to JB Finders Keepers."

---