---

---

---

---

---

---

From Jacki's Chance

“Jacki…..uh….hon…honey….”

He stumbled over the words. Who calls their son ‘honey?’ But it grabbed him; as strong as anything he had ever felt when it dawned on him that he wasn’t calling his ‘son’ honey, but his daughter. For now there would be stumbles and half-starts. He didn’t know exactly what to do when his kids were born, but he learned… and he’d learn about things that girls like or don’t. He’d learn about how some girls like football; that Jacki would never stop rooting for the “Huskers.” That it was okay to want to dress up one day and wear jeans the next. So he tried...

---

---

Grand Island, Nebraska, mid-January…

“Dad, I’ll be alright.” Jacki looked over at her father as he maneuvered the mini-van around the maze of snow-bound cars in the parking lot. John turned his head slightly to speak, but quickly turned his attention back to driving after just barely missing a Camry that was jutting out of a snow bank.

“I’m not so comfortable…honey.”

The words were forced, but not the name. The more John used the endearment, the easier it got. His younger son Jimmy received the ‘brunt’ of his affection now that Jacki was living with Taryn and her mom. Jimmy struggled with the changes in the family, but he had made some great strides and had ‘rejoined’ humanity after a brief trip-up that led to the separation of the two siblings.

While he wouldn’t go so far as to echo his father’s words to Jacki’s face, he had actually gotten to the place of bragging about his sister to his friends. Being predisposed to settling his ‘differences’ with his friends in a somewhat rough manner had earned him a short time of suspension and a hurried appointment with his counselor. Both children had worked out their grief in completely different ways, but at the end of the day the family was once again intact and happily if tentatively stable.

“Listen, Dad…it’s fine. Taryn and Alison agree with me that we have to roll with it, no matter what.”

“I know…I know. It’s just that I didn’t think you’d be stuck with the job as Poster Child for Transgendered Skateboarding.” He resisted the urge to turn to look at Jacki as they just missed hitting the nose of an Audi A4 that was protruding from yet another snow bank.

Things were looking up...or so they thought.

---

A few months later, the O'Donnell home...

“You take your meds?” Jack asked Jimmy as he walked into the kitchen. Jimmy looked up and frowned.

“Come on, Dad. You ask me that every time, and it’s not fair. I’ve done everything I’m supposed to, and Jacki and I get along just fine.” Jimmy shook his head and glared at the fridge; any eye contact with his dad would likely get involved, and that’s the last thing he needed.

“I’m sorry. Listen. I talked to your sister. She’s got a doctor’s appointment and Taryn can’t get off of work. Do you think you could manage to give her a ride?” Jack immediately regretted the tone and added,

“I’m sorry, Jim… you’ve been doing just great. You didn’t deserve that at all.” He put his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder and Jimmy resisted the typical urge to shrug it off. He turned and looked up at Jack and sighed.

“Daddy… I’m trying as hard as I can…. I don’t know what else to do.”

It was the first time Jimmy had called his father Daddy since he was little, and he was right back in that moment; the little boy seeking his father’s approval. Jim’s eyes widened slightly in recognition as he saw in some small way past the haze of Jimmy’s behavior against his own impatient demands; father and son having a moment that would re-define, or rather, return to the previous definition of their relationship. He kissed the young man on the forehead, surprising them both.

---

Platte Valley Medical Group, Kearney, Nebraska...

Jacki got into the mini-van and closed the door. She blew out a long breath and turned her face to the window.

“So what did your doctor say? You….” Jimmy was going to make a crude joke about Jacki and her transition, but he thought better of it; more so to avoid any argument since he was convinced that his sister was way too sensitive. Jacki looked at him and sighed.

“What’s wrong…. Br….sis?” He quickly corrected himself; that pesky detail many of us fail to anticipate of how even recently renewed former recalcitrant relatives struggle with pronouns and names. Jacki nodded.

“I’ve…I’ve got to…” It had been no secret that things had gotten more difficult for her over the past several months; tricks and jumps that she would have done with ease only a short time before had become laborious and almost unmanageable. She had barely cracked the top ten on the circuit when inexplicable mistakes began to interfere with her routines; things that most boarders would make adjustments for. The timing seemed to be way off, and even Taryn had noted that she seemed much more tired lately.

“Some blood tests came back, Jim…”

Jacki had never cried much in front of her brother; mostly because of his inability to accept her gender issues, but more recently because she didn’t want to burden him in the midst of his own ‘recovery,’ so to speak. But she began to cry. Jimmy looked out the window; feeling ill-equipped to help his sister. His sister, he thought. It actually became a turning point since it wasn’t his brother acting like a girl anymore but instead it was Jimmy realizing that he had a sister instead of a brother. As hard as it was, considering his own anxiety and fears of being wrong, he turned and faced Jacki. She looked at him, wordlessly begging for some hope…some evidence that things were different. Jimmy leaned close and hugged Jacki; being more of a brother than he had ever been.

---

The Duplantis home…a few hours later…

“Honey, I’m home!” Jacki said weakly as she walked in with Jimmy trailing. Jimmy was convinced that Taryn hated him, and he feared what her mother Alison thought as well.

“She’s still at work; Carol called in sick.” Alison shouted from the kitchen. A moment later she emerged, sending Jimmy into a panic until he realized she wasn’t wearing her holster. She looked down at her belt and back at Jimmy.

“Jeez, Jim…relax. I’m NOT pissed at you.” To emphasize her words, she stepped closer and drew him into an awkward hug. It was only then that she noticed Jacki’s expression; almost looking like fear and embarrassment mixed together.

“Jacki? What’s wrong? The tests? You’ve got Lyme’s?” Jacki looked at her and frowned, trying hard to hold back the tears. Letting go of Jimmy, she pulled the girl into a motherly embrace as the girl sobbed in her arms.

“OH, dear God…what, honey?” Jacki offered no words other than ‘I’m sorry,’ as if being sick was some sort of disappointment to Alison. Overcompensating will do that, when you’re used to trying hard to please even those folks who love you. Alison continued to hold the girl; tighter in fact. Jacki had become more than just Taryn’s friend. More than a future member of her family, Alison treasured Jacki as if she was one of her own.

“It’s not…they need to keep an eye on her…” Jimmy spoke weakly; yet another needless apologetic tone in a house filled with acceptance and care. Alison turned her head and half-smiled at Jimmy.

“It…she may have…they think she has leukemia.”

The color left Alison’s face and she put her hand to her mouth. Jimmy looked at her and she saw something that neither she nor Jimmy had seen before; tears had welled in his eyes and he bit his lip; he had finally found the strength inside to be the brother he had always been intended to be.

“She didn’t…she was worried that you and Taryn would….” Jimmy wondered even as he spoke where that came from. He touched Alison’s arm and placed his other hand on Jacki’s neck; a kind gesture that was light years away from how he had treated her.

Alison blinked back tears and nodded in acknowledgement; not merely the understanding of the problem all of them faced but also approval of the young man who continued to struggle with his own issues. She smiled even as the tears flowed; her expression telling Jimmy that whatever Jacki faced, she would face it with family…every one of them.

---

A few hours later...

“You should have told me,” Taryn exclaimed. She scaled the plastic travel mug against the kitchen door; spilling the coffee all over the floor.

“You should have trusted me…I’m not your father and I’m not your brother.” Her anger got in the way of her only for a moment. She turned to Jimmy and shook her head in apology. Jimmy lowered his gaze only a bit while extending a waving hand as if to say he understood. Both he and Jack had made great strides in re-establishing their relationship with Jacki, but the trust came slowly, mirroring how painfully slow their betrayal of Jacki had been. Alison stepped closer to Jimmy and placed her hand on his shoulder in reassurance. She was tempted to correct her daughter, but Taryn’s next words rendered that point moot.

“I…I’m so sorry. I’m being such a bitch when….” She stared into Jacki’s eyes; eyes that understood as well and forgave. Taryn rushed to Jacki and the two held each other; crying the way only two who are so close; sisters and mates in a way.

“We…We’re going to get through this.” Taryn pulled back and faced Jacki, hoping that her words would be borne out. She turned to Alison and smiled weakly, hoping for some glimmer of confidence. Alison nodded and smiled before she gazed upward; her eyes indicating that the source of their hope came from outside themselves. Jimmy nodded as he caught Taryn’s eye. He hoped for deliverance from someplace…someone. He would find someone who was reliable and true and brave and good; that someone was him.

---

St. Francis Cancer Treatment Center, Grand Island, Nebraska, weeks later…

The tall man smiled at the figure lying on the bed. The girl looked frail; weak and paler than anyone could remember. Her head was closely shorn, with bare spots here and there; she refused to give up what little hair she still had.

“Let’s believe, okay, Jacki?” Melmem Jabbour was confident that the transplant would give the girl a good chance at recovery. He prayed a quick prayer to himself as the girl turned to face him.

“No matter what happens, I’m blessed with a very precious gift, Dr. Jabbour.”

“Jimmy is a good young man. His gift to you will bring you new life; I believe that with all my being.” Jacki nodded but then shook her head.

“You know…. It’s such a blessing that my brother is a match for me. But…” She teared up at the thought even as she smiled.

“It’s Jimmy that’s really my blessing.”

---

Summer X-Games, 2015, Los Angeles, California

The girl finished her final run and skated off the course, meeting two excited figures. Two minutes later her scores were posted.

“Aw fuck…you were better than that.” Jimmy shook his head. Jacki patted him in consolation.

“Second place to Lizzie Armanto? I can think of only two things I’d rather have than that.” She didn’t bother to finish the sentence, since she walked out arm in arm with Taryn.

“What?” Jimmy asked, completely missing the moment. Taryn turned around and smiled before glancing between Jacki and Jimmy.

“You and me, silly!”

Crisis often brings out examples of character. And almost as frequently points us to the hope we have. Jimmy O’Donnell helped save his sister’s life, and in doing so apprehended that hope and saved his own.

Next: Lara's Awakening

---

---

---

---

---

---

From Lara's Chance

Making the way to the lectern for the inaugural message, the pastor nodded slightly; an unfamiliar face to many, which evoked a few murmurs and some applause. Instead of the usual casual slacks and button-down shirt and tie of the previous shepherd, the pastor wore black slacks and a teal silk blouse under a white jacket. She smiled.

“Good Morning,” Lara spoke softly, demonstrating a humility that would be a familiar and welcomed part of her ‘pulpit voice,’ as some put it.

“I am honored to be a part of God’s plan for us all. I’ll be reading my text from The Message today, since I believe it speaks to me, and hopefully through me to you, okay?” She bowed her head slightly and said a silent prayer, her shoulders shaking only a little; another DiNapoli ‘trademark’ that would be a familiar part of her ministry.

"The Book of the Prophet Isaiah…Chapter Forty-Three…Verses One through Four...

---

---

Gresham Oregon…two years later…

“You’ve been so quiet, Lara. Is there anything wrong?” The petit woman spoke from the office doorway. No need for formalities between best friends, right? Lara had always been uncomfortable with titles anyway. She shook her head no, but the accompanying frown indicated otherwise.

“It’s our anniversary,” Lara said as she looked away. Remembering her late wife; no need to hide tears since Rachael could read her like a book, as the saying goes. In few short years since Lara took over as Senior Pastor, she had made strides in convincing the faithful few that she was there to stay. Rachael’s brother Jeff was holding his own and had been cancer free for almost as long, but was too weak to be of assistance as the church had doubled in size.

“Oh…I meant to tell you. Al called; he’s going to be in town and he wanted to know if you were free for dinner.” The words sent a chill up Lara’s back; her former brother-in-law was a bulwark of support when his sister passed; Jack’s sister Nancy was also the wife of Major Dante Cerchierra. Danny Cerchierra moved on after his wife passed, becoming Lara DiNapoli. It would have been a daunting mess of confusion just for that alone.

“You gonna tell him?” Rachael winked and smiled.

“Tell him what?” Lara was like anyone else in the world; privacy was important because she felt guarded and secure by the secrecy. Rachael blasted past those defenses, as only a BFF can and said finally,

“Are you going to tell Al that you love him?”

---

A few days later at the church…

“You do know you couldn’t have been a brighter shade of red the other day if you tried.” Rachael laughed and patted Lara on the head like an obedient child. Lara turned and resisted the temptation to stick out her tongue.

“Why I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She laughed nervously at her attempt at humor, but her face grew warm and she put her head down.

“It’s okay, Lar….” Rachael knew Lara better than anyone other than the man they had been discussing the past several days. She smiled and shook her head.

“I know there’s a whole lot going on inside there, honey, and you know that not all of it is good, right?” The question would have led to disastrous results if she hadn’t added quckly,

“Guilt and shame keep nipping at your heels, no matter how fast you run away. You have to turn around and smack each of them in the nose with a rolled up paper!” She half-smiled and stepped close to her friend once again, kneading her shoulders from behind. Lara looked up at Rachael and smiled weakly.

“You feel like you’re betraying her memory. You feel like you don’t deserve to be happy. You feel like you don’t want to be a burden on your best friend….How am I doing so far?”

“Stellar….” Lara said weakly, putting her head down.

“Truth is? All of those things are true, but only in small ways. Yes, in a way you are betraying Nan’s memory, but only because she said that she wanted you to be happy and live your life, right? And your reluctance to do anything for yourself? My brother would help you if he could, but either way, it’s not good for you to neglect your own needs.”

“If I don’t do it, Rache?”

“I know…it won’t get done. But who’s to say it should get done in the first place? We don’t have a corner on needs in this church. Jesus said something about the poor being with us always? That’s not poor only in goods, but in spirit. And you know you can’t be of any good to anyone else if you’re no good to yourself. So yeah. That’s a betrayal!” She half-frowned as if to criticize, but the light in her eyes spoke otherwise.

“And yes…it’s true that you don’t deserve to be happy. None of us deserve much of anything other than the respect and love we owe to each other. It’s a matter of joy, sweetie! And you exude it. Why folks love your messages; they speak of hope and joy in the midst of all the crap we have coming at us. But it’s okay to be happy anyway, and damn it if it’s not a bad idea when you actually grab hold of some happiness.”

Lara stared at the floor; by now tears had begun to fall. These times felt so awkward and inauthentic; she hadn’t really cried much other than when her son died and when Nan died. But then again, being a ‘man’ compelled her to act and speak and perhaps even try to think a certain way. But inside in those moments when her life’s incongruity rose like so much bile in her throat; she cried every day inside even if she never shed a tear.

“We hurt no matter whether we show it or even feel it; it’s part of life. And it’s right to be happy. It just is.”

“What about Al…he’s….”

“What? He shouldn’t bear you up? And why not? Is it up to you to determine who loves you? Maybe he’s got other ideas, Lar….think of that.”

Rachael had pretty much exhausted all of her resources, and it was working. Lara was at the point of being vulnerable and trusting that things were actually okay. She was at a place where she could talk to Al about how she felt. It was a good thing even if it was destined to fail. She was ready to tell him she did indeed love him, but sadly, as Rachael suggested? Al had other ideas.

“Good afternoon, Pastor DiNapoli. “

Lara looked up from her paperwork to find Al Apsche standing in her doorway. He had a bottle of champagne in his right hand and a smile on his face. Lara bit her lip and looked away, hoping she didn’t screw things up.

“I’ve got something to celebrate, and I can’t think of anyone I’d like to share it with than my best friend. You free for dinner? Nice Thai place over in Portland.” Lara looked at the clock on her desk. 5:18; it was later than she expected, She looked back and Al was grinning as if he had a big secret; and everyone knew Al couldn’t keep a secret if his life depended on it.

“Sure…anything for you!” She sighed only slightly, hoping she wasn’t as easily ‘read’ as he was. Truth of the matter? Al wasn’t easy to read at all; something she was about to find out.

---

Sweet Basil Thai Restaurant, Portland….

Al handed the waitress the bottle and smiled.

“I’ll be right back with your menus, and I’ll get this chilled.” She nodded and walked back to the kitchen.

“I’ve got some great news,” he said as he pulled her chair out to seat her. His warm breath caressed her left ear, or so it seemed. She grabbed the glass of water in front of her and downed it in a long, quick draught. Al sat down and grabbed her hand. She pulled back slightly and he let go; he was always a fairly touchy-feely guy, and she felt her face grow warm.

“A friend told me to try the Salmon Curry.” He patted her hand and she noticed that he was still wearing his wedding ring…funny how she had missed that after all these years.

“Anyway? About my news? Wellllllll” He seemed to be a bit more playful than usual; perhaps it wasn’t going to be hard at all to tell him how much she cared. Actually, it was going to prove to be more than just difficult; something that became apparent a moment later when an attractive Asian woman walked to the table. At first Lara thought she might be the manager or owner, but that idea went away quickly as she leaned close and kissed Al on the cheek.

“Oh, hi. I’m glad you were able to break away for a bit.” He stood up and pulled out the chair between his and Lara’s and seated her, but not before kissing her cheek as well. She turned and smiled warmly at Lara.

“You must be Pastor DiNapoli. Al has told me so much about you. It’s nice to meet someone who is dear to him.” She patted Lara’s hand much in the same manner as Al had only moments before. Lara noticed that she was wearing a wedding ring. He was being awfully familiar with the woman, and Lara felt her face grow warm in embarrassment.

“I’m Chaisee Taksin.” She held out her hand and Lara shook it.”

“Chai?” Al smiled at her and turned to Lara with a look that seemed to say, ‘can you believe her?’ Chaisee laughed softly and patted Al’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry….that’s Chaisee Taksin Apsche. Al and I got married last month in St. Louis.” She smiled an innocent smile; her demeanor literally matched her first name. Al, on the other hand might not have been guilty of anything, but he was far from innocent. Lara bit the inside of her cheek and stifled a sigh before smiling politely.

“That’s wonderful,” she said, trying hard to be authentic; at least in tone. In front of the woman who had just married the man she had realized she herself had grown to love; a woman…a real woman, she thought; she felt anything but authentic. She placed her hand on Chaisee’s arm and squeezed.

“You’ve gotten just about the best guy around. I’m so happy for you both.” She would talk herself into acting happy, and deep down she truly rejoiced for them both; that character trait of hers that endeared her to so many. But at that moment, she didn’t ‘feel’ happy at all. She smiled again and reached into her jacket, pulling out her phone.

“I’ve got to take this. You’ll excuse me?”

She stood up quickly, not waiting for a reply. The phone hadn’t buzzed at all, but she needed some space and quickly. Al stood up politely as she nodded and walked outside to her Jeep. She hit the remote and the door locks opened and she got inside. Placing her purse on the seat next to her, she stared blankly ahead. It had begun to rain hard, and the sound of the water hitting the roof of the car took the edge off her mood; she had always loved the sound of rain against metal. But the mood remained, if subdued only a little by the soothing sounds; sounds which did little to hide her cries as she began to sob....

to be continued...

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

Previously

It had begun to rain hard, and the sound of the water hitting the roof of the car took the edge off her mood; she had always loved the sound of rain against metal. But the mood remained, if subdued only a little by the soothing sounds; sounds which did little to hide her cries as she began to sob....

---

The Church office, a week later...

“How could I be so stupid!?” Lara looked up from her desk. A newspaper lay in front of her, quarter folded to reveal a picture of a happy couple. Rachael stepped close and picked up the paper, tossing it in the paper recycle bin in the corner of Lara’s office.

“As my dear granddaddy would say, ‘That’s a lie straight from the pit!’” She shook her head and sat down in the chair catty-corner to Lara’s and grabbed the woman’s hand.

“I thought he cared for you…you thought he cared for you… I’d be willing to be that at one time he even thought he cared for you. Not stupid by a long shot, sweetie. Just human, like everyone else."

Lara didn’t suffer from a superiority complex so much as believe everyone thought she couldn’t show any weakness or frailty. As a pastor and shepherd of the people she had grown to love, she wanted to be all she could be for them. But being all and doing all are two different things.

“I feel so useless.”

“Because you made a mistake? So I suppose this completely disqualifies you for service? Never mind the comfort you gave the Harding family last month when their niece died. Or the mother’s heart you showed to Jimmy when he found out he had cancer? Or maybe the hold-your-horses counsel you gave Louise regarding that idiot she was dating? Yeah, you’re useless alright.” Rachael was never one to hold back, but even more so, she knew Lara needed a cold dose of reality instead of a nod and a pat on the back. And Lara had come to find out she could never argue with Rachael anyway.

“You know what I mean.” Lara looked away, feeling the sting of the words that were meant to heal. Rachael leaned closer and patted her cheek; a bit less playful than she had intended; it certainly got her attention.

“Listen. Yes, I know. And as your best friend and confidante, sweetie, I can safely say that you are not…I repeat…NOT useless.

“I guess ….I’m not….”

“Listen…apart from your own disappointment with how life started, nothing matters as far as anyone else goes unless you let it. If you’re less than perfect, what does that make me? I can’t have kids, either, but….” Rachael’s voice trailed off. Stu’s memory enfolded her softly as she recalled his tenderness; a man from a big family who had been born to be a father who chose to love a woman who couldn’t have children. A man whose departure left her both richer and poorer.

“I…I know. I’m being so selfish.” Lara didn’t mean to, but she found herself looking at Rachael’s body, recalling the lack they both felt if for entirely different reasons.

“Selfish? Hell yes! But you just got hurt bad, sweetie. It’s actually okay to be a little selfish. Just don’t let it go to your head.” She patted Lara on the arm, evoking a smile out of her.

“It hurts….I think it almost hurts more than when Nan died.” She sighed. Rachael rubbed her arm softly.

“Maybe just differently. I saw the way your eyes lit up when you thought you might have a shot with Al. The same way you look when you talk about Nan… both hurt but for different reasons."

Rachael smiled warmly and rubbed Lara’s arm again. An odd sensation crossed her face as she felt her expression duplicating the look she had just described. She went to pull back and Lara looked at her. Some might have thought it too soon; that horribly dreaded rebound effect that takes place when a love dies elsewhere, in a way. But that old adage…date a friend...inserted itself in an entirely timely manner.

“I…I’m sorry.” Lara turned away, fearing her anxious stare would reveal her supreme selfishness.

“For what? For being human? Didn’t we just go over this?” Rachael shook her head; a headshake that says I’m with you and you’re okay no matter how you feel about yourself. And then she did something entirely surprising but entirely called for.

“If anyone’s being selfish it’s me. I’m taking advantage of the moment, sweetie, okay?"

“What… I don’t understa…” Lara’s protest was cut off as Rachael pulled her close and kissed her.

“Nnnn” Lara tried to speak, but Rachael would have none of it, so to speak, and continued to kiss her best friend. Her right hand reached up and touched Lara’s cheek. She had begun to cry, and the tears dripped onto Rachael’s fingers. Rachael pulled away slightly to look into Lara’s eyes.

“I fell for you the day you came to work here. I thought that I was crazy…that I was horrible for forgetting Stu’s memory. For loving another woman. For everything and anything I could think of.”

“But you….you pushed me….toward Al. Knowing that I was ….”

“Because you loved him and I love you! I’m no hero, but it was what I had to do. I couldn’t love you if I couldn’t let you go.” She choked back a sob, as if she had failed miserably in her need to see Lara’s happiness secured.

“I…I….”

Lara began to sob; the thought of actually being loved seemed so foreign to her. The love Nan bestowed on her death bed was withheld for so long that it was a hugely bitter-rather-than-sweet moment. And Al’s rejection, so to speak, had firmly cemented in her heart that she must be worthless The kiss might have softened her, but the look in Rachael’s eyes and the words from her lips caused that idea to crumble to dust. Rachael kissed her again, but this time, Lara kissed back. The first time in years that she felt both worthy and loveable; she kissed with a once dormant passion that was freed finally by the woman in front of her.

“I don’t know…” She protested. And of course she didn’t. The moment was electric and spontaneous and wonderful, but she really didn’t know if she loved Rachael the same way Rachael had apparently loved her. But in that moment, she decided that she was very much willing to find out.

---

A few months later....

It was a day of firsts; some long-anticipated but delayed only by a lack of opportunity rather than choice. Others were new because of a break with tradition. And one just because….

“I’m so happy for you.” Al paused and blinked back tears; somewhere Nan was looking down on the two of them and smiling. Chaisee squeezed Al’s shoulder and kissed his cheek.

“It’s time, you two.” She used her hand in a broad gesture to indicate the front of the church. For the first time in the history of the church, the senior pastor would not be performing the ceremony, but then again, it was the first time the senior pastor would be getting married. Chaisee kissed Lara on the cheek.

“Chokh dÄ«!” She smiled and walked quickly up the aisle, taking her place on the left side. Jerry nodded and Jimmy picked up his guitar and began to sing.

He is now to be among you at the calling of your hearts
Rest assured this troubadour is acting on His part.
The union of your spirits, here, has caused Him to remain
For whenever two or more of you are gathered in His name
There is Love, there is Love.

Al squeezed Lara’s elbow and they walked slowly down the aisle. Only a few seconds in eternity, perhaps, but a moment in time that would live forever. Rachael stepped closer to the middle of the platform as Callie took her bouquet. She reached down and took Lara’s hand as the two enjoyed what would be only the first of ‘second chances’ for them both.

As two shall leave their families to make another home
And they shall travel on to where the two shall be as one.
As it was in the beginning is now and til the end
As two women draw from one another and give it back again.
And there is Love, there is Love.

Well then what's to be the reason for the two becoming one?
Is it life that brings you here or life that brings you love?
And if loving is the answer, then who's the giving for?
Do you believe in something that you've never seen before?
Oh there is Love, there is Love.

Oh the marriage of your spirits here has caused Me to remain
For whenever two or more of you are gathered in My name
There am I, there is Love. *

Next: Alicia’s Kiss

---

The Wedding Song
(There is Love)
Words and Music by
Noel Paul Stookey
*Lyrics adapted by
Andrea Lena DiMaggio
As performed by Miss Petula Clark
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YRQdh7sgjjE

---

---

---

---

---

---

From Alicia’s Chance

Alicia could hardly contain her glee, even if she was crying at the same time. She pulled Dana closer and hugged her. Their lips touched and they kissed. A moment later, the two pulled back and stared, tears in their eyes as they shook their heads no. Dana touched Alicia’s cheek softly and smiled.

“Sisters?”

Alicia nodded as she pulled her best friend ever into a warm sisterly embrace.

"Sisters!"

---

Sometime later, Newton, New Jersey…

“What the fuck, Narcise? What’s going on in that head of yours?” Jack actually rapped him on the top of his head with his knuckles. He hit him hard enough for him to wince, but Kenny remained silent as he had closed his eyes in a state of dreamy distraction. He didn’t really take care for where he was going and he felt strong, desperate hands yank him back suddenly as he just missed stepping in front of a town dump truck that barreled down the road.

“Fuck, Narcise, what the fuck is the matter with you?”

Kenny would have told him if he thought Jack would keep a secret, but Jack talked more than an annoying passenger on a three-hour bus trip. He did allow himself the luxury of speaking the name that had enamored him in his mind. And for that he got distracted one more time as he walked directly into the tall post for the Stop sign on the corner of the intersection. The last thing he remembered before hitting his head on the curb was that Jack had his hand out in a vain attempt to keep him from falling. And in his mind’s eye, he gazed longingly and frightfully ashamedly at the face that launched a thousand distracting accidents; Alicia Capulano.

---

Meanwhile at the Martino home...

Alicia stared at the image in the mirror. She shook her head; freckles that most might think endearing embarrassed her, and she was shaky in the confidence department before she even looked at herself.

“Oh, come on. You’re cute!”

Dana grinned. A bond between them made almost everything they said to each other about each other undeniable. Nevertheless, Alicia struggled with the complement. It was true that she’d received a whole lot of confused acceptance from her mother of late, but she’d been back and forth between being confident and insecure. As much as she loved her mother, she’d never known her Dad; a reasonable functional if entirely selfish bastard who left her and her mother alone when she was a baby. She found herself feeling almost jealous of Dana in that regard. Once Dave had realized he actually had a daughter instead of a son he’d embraced his child wholeheartedly.

“Dad told me the other day that I’m very cute, and you know how hard that had to be.” She half-smiled at the thought before continuing.

“And he’s said we’re almost like twins, so that means if I’m cute, then you’re cute, too! So there!” She stuck out her tongue and laughed. Alicia tried to stifle a laugh but failed and began to giggle.

“I think the freckles do a great deal to bring out that Northern Italian complexion. You’re a classic.”

“Classic cry baby…”

“You’re Mom loves you…she’s just not quite there yet.”

“Easy for you to say.” Alicia snapped, but she softened her tone.

“I know. Mom …. I think she sees that old part of me as something….”

“Something that ties you to your Dad?”

“Yeah… Like maybe somehow if he ever came back…. He wouldn’t be scared away if I was still Alan? I don’t know.” Dana rubbed her back.

“I know she wants to love you and that she does want to understand. Dad was like that, but I think he understood quickly because I’m so much like Mom. You know? Not just resemble, but really a lot like her. You’re nothing….nothing at all like your Dad. You’re brave and strong and caring…. He was…” Dana paused; it’s hard to speak ill against a friend’s parent, even it is the truth.

“I know. I guess I’m like what he should have been…or was? I remind her of him, and that hurts a lot. And she’s...” Alicia turned her head in thought.

“Lonely… she’s just like anybody who’s lost someone. It was hard for Dad to accept…. I mean Mommy was never going to get better and he hoped and I hoped.” She blinked back a few tears.

“But he …we both got over it…. We leaned on each other, I guess.”

“And Mom’s leaned on me since I can remember. “

“So maybe she needs to find someone else to lean on. You know….” Dana’s eyes gleamed; an almost conspiratorial grin crossed her face, leaving no doubt where she was headed. What should have been a “Parent Trap” moment filled with giggles and smiles went a tad south as Alicia began to cry.

“Now what did I say?” Dana put her arms up in frustration.

“You and me…If they got together? Then we’d really be sisters.”

“I’d have a new Mom.” Dana smiled; she was glad but her enthusiasm was tempered with a realistic understanding that things don’t often work out as nicely as they do in the movies. And any enthusiasm Alicia might have had was dampened by the fact that she and her mother had serious man issues. As much as most of her was grounded and secure, she found herself pulling back.

“Dad isn’t anything like your Dad, Ali….” Dana half-frowned defensively.

“I know. But my Mom is exactly like she’s been all along, and if I’m afraid to hope…. I don’t think she’ll ever be ready.” She put her head down and sighed before crying again. Dana redoubled her efforts to comfort her and spoke softly.

“Well, alrighty, then!” Dana patted her best friend on the back; a gesture of encouragement as much as consolation.

“I guess Mr. Martino has to show Ms. Capulano just how trustworthy men can be, right?” Alicia looked at her sideways, almost unconvinced. Dana tilted her head and grinned; her right eyebrow arching slightly.

“Right?” Dana elbowed her playfully and Alicia smiled, blinking back her remaining tears before saying,

“Right.” Alicia forced a smile that widened a bit.

“Wait a second…. Your Dad called you cute?” Dana shrugged and answered.

“Well…. Not exactly. He did say I looked okay. That’s about as ‘cute’ as that’s gonna get.”

“Right,” Alicia said. She seemed lost in thought for a moment before finishing.

“Okay works for me.”

---

The Narcise home...

“Are you fucking serious?” Jackie Pietrowski shook his head as Kenny sat on his front porch; a freezer pack wrapped in a dishtowel placed against his still-aching head. He glared at Jackie but put his head down; an almost-shameful look crossed his face. His anger flattened out and he spoke in a hoarse whisper,

“Yes…”

“She’s a fucking guy….Are you fucking crazy?”

“Listen, Jackie….” Kenny raised his voice but it lapsed quickly back into the hoarse whisper as he pled,

“I don’t know…. You can’t ….Don’t”

“Oh fuck yeah…. I’m not about to tell anyone that my best friend is queer.”

He was about to add ‘not that there’s anything wrong with that’ but thought better of it. As hostile and ignorant as it sounded, there was at least a confused sincerity in his tone. He shook his head and Kenny frowned before continuing.

“She’s not like a guy…oh fuck…”

Kenny wasn’t one for sentimentality by any stretch of the imagination, but who can figure out what attracts any boy to any girl anyway, or even to any boy for that matter? He did something Jackie had only witnessed once in all the years he’d known Kenny. When they were ten, Kenny had gotten a beating from his Dad. Not a spanking in the truest sense, but a real beating by a soon-to-be incarcerated father that evoked reluctant but unavoidable if understandably shameful weeping that only came out after his father was put in the back of a Sussex County Sheriff’s car.

“I don’t ….” Kenny pulled his hood over his eyes and began to shake as he began to cry. Jackie didn’t know what to do at that point other than put his hand on Kenny’s shoulder.

“Girls…. Fuck em!” Jackie completely missed the irony of his statement even as Kenny started to laugh. He pulled his hood back and stared at his best friend before crying once again.

“Oh fuck!” Jackie said before half-smiling; a signal that no matter how uncomfortable and embarrassing his continued allegiance to his friend was, he would support Kenny as best as an equally awkward sixteen-year-old friend can. But he added,

“You’ve had my back since Bobby Spitalny beat the crap outta me in sixth grade.” Jackie nudged Kenny with his forearm.

“I think he’s still got a sore jaw from where you popped him. Anyway, I’m not about to walk away from you.”

“But ….” Kenny put his head down and shook it side to side slowly.

“Yeah…I know…I know! There’s gonna be a whole bunch of shit flying your way if this ever gets out.” He grinned.

“It will get out….”

“You’re gonna talk to her, aren’t you?” Jackie leaned forward and turned slightly as if he was struggling to hear Kenny.

“Yeah….I think I am.”

“Fuck!”

“Yeah….fuck…..”

---

Later that evening…

“Dad?” Dana sat on the love seat across from her father. Dave looked up from the novel he was reading.

“Yes?” Still a military-minded man, his words were usually as economical as possible. He had tried very hard to used endearments like ‘honey,’ and ‘sweetie;’ words much more suited coming from his late wife. But he and Dana both realized that just the smile in front of his intended effort to understand was enough.

“What do you think of Alicia’s mom?”

“Well, you don’t waste time with small talk, I’ll give you that.” He laughed softly; what once might have been considered a sarcastic rebuke instead showed a side of him that was emerging slowly after a combination of grief and misunderstanding was finally fading away.

“She’s a very nice woman.” Still economical, but very revealing.

“Yeah, Dad. She’d make a very nice addition to the household, don’t you think?” Dave lowered his reading glasses slightly and peered at Dana before shaking his head; a smile crossing his face.

“Yes, she would make a nice addition to the household.” Dana squinted and tilted her head in surprise.

“You’ve thought about this?”

“Why, yes I have…” He paused; almost as surprised at his words as his daughter.

“I’ve been meaning to ask her to dinner.”

“Well, there’s dinner and then there’s dinner.” Dana grinned. She had always been a bit playful even before Dave had realized Dana could be a girl’s name instead of a boy’s, so to speak.

“Dinner like in ‘Ms. Capulano, would you like to join us for dinner?” He said it with such a deadpan face that anyone but Dana would have believed him. She just laughed and held her arms out a bit and shrugged as if to say, ‘come on!’

“Why don’t you and Alicia plan on spending tomorrow night out at the movies and pizza… on me.” He reached into his wallet and pulled out a wad of cash and handed it to her. She stared at the money in her hand and grinned.

“No…” He said with a smile. She tilted her head in question and he continued.

“I never ask anyone to marry me on the first date.” Deadpan once more, but Dana bit her lower lip and looked off and down in thought. There were times when even she didn’t know when he was kidding. He laughed softly and went to walk away.

“Dad?”

“Yes?” He turned toward her and nodded for her to continue.

“You …. You really do like her? Like really like her a lot?” Dave smiled without speaking and stepped closer to her. Dana looked into his eyes and saw that peace that she hadn’t seen in quite some time; that ease that went missing for so long as both of them struggled. First with her mother’s death and then as they both came to grips with who she really was. It was comforting of course, but what he did next surprised her; perhaps even surprised him.

“Yes… “ He pulled her into an awkward hug; embraces of any kind had become out-of-place in the Martino house since her mother died. She looked into his eyes once more and saw tears. He shook his head and turned it to the side.

“Dad….it’s okay. I think Mom would want this for you.”

She touched his arm and he turned his face to her once again. His eyes widened in hopeful question; weren’t new beginnings confined to his child’s discovery and acceptance. She smile and began to weep, burying her face in his chest. He wrapped his strong arms around her and patted her back. The Martinos had just taken another step in their journey toward wholeness; a wholeness that would go beyond their home.

---

Saturday night, Dominick’s Pizza, Newton, New Jersey…

Dana and Alicia sat across from each other in a booth near the front window. The waitress had just placed their drinks on the table when two familiar figures entered the restaurant. Dana shrugged nervously as the bane of her brief existence sidled over.

“Go away…please?” Dana pled as Kenny stood next to the booth.

“I… I need to talk to you.”At the words, Dana shuddered. Alicia reached across the table and held Dana’s hand. Kenny glanced at both girls nervously before continuing.

“I mean it. Can I please talk to you?” His voice was subdued and he used one of those magic words that gain almost immediate attention when spoken by boys like him.

“What?” Dana shook her head. It was probably the first civil word he’d spoken to her.

“I…I wanted…” Jackie grew impatient and rudely nudged Kenny in the ribs with his elbow.

“I wanted to apologize.” He blurted the words out and was going to turn when Jackie steered him back to face the girls. Dana shook her head but Alicia glanced at her with a smile while patting her hand. She rose and stepped out of the booth; barely missing Kenny as she sat down next to Alicia while pointing to the empty bench. Kenny sat down. Jackie went to walk away but Kenny grabbed him and glared as if to say, ‘oh no you don’t.’

“What did you want?” Dana asked nervously. She’d been fooled way too many times over the past year by Kenny’s feigned repentance; only to be disappointed by yet one more cruel comment or joke. Kenny matched her nervous posture.

“I’m sorry.” He paused. After a few awkward seconds of silence he continued.

“I was wrong.” Perhaps the first time in his life, the words escaped his lips quickly; the thankful task completed, he went to rise, but Jackie was blocking his exit.

“Tell her.” Jackie uttered two words that seemed to cut through the tension as his sincerity validated Kenny’s attempt at being human. Dana turned her focus to Jackie and she peered at him. He looked back, realizing it was the first time either he or Kenny had acknowledged Dana’s ‘existence,’ in a way. He grinned sheepishly and nudged Kenny to continue.

“You…. I’ve decided you’re a girl.” It wasn’t how he meant to say it, but it came out in the worst possible way.

“Oh…Thank you so much, Kenny Narcise. I’m so glad you decided I’m a girl,” Dana said with an attempt at sarcasm that was tempered by the sad if brief history she shared with him.

“Oh….that’s not what I meant,” Kenny pled, demonstrating a heretofore unknown sensitivity. She looked at him and stared impatiently before turning away; red faced and embarrassed. He shook his head and turned to face Alicia. She smiled at him. A smile he could simultaneously do without and welcome wholeheartedly at the same time. She patted Dana’s arm.

“I meant I realized I was wrong about you. I… You’re a girl, okay?” The words were hurried but for the last few, which almost sounded tender; at least as tender as she was going to hear from an awkward teenage boy.

“You…You’re serious?”

“Yes.”

“Tell her why,” Jackie interjected impatiently. The exchange was interrupted as the waitress returned with a large pizza. As she placed the pizza on the table, Jackie looked longingly. Alicia noticed and nodded, prompting Jackie to grab a slice. He went to take a bite, but paused long enough to repeat,

“Tell her why….”

“I…” Kenny looked at the door nervously, anticipating the entrance of a horde of classmates eager to listen in to his confession. Steeling himself against his own embarrassment, he spoke, but not to Dana.

“I realized I… I liked you,” he said to Alicia. His face grew red and he turned his face to the wall.

“Like me?” Alicia’s complexion mirrored Kenny’s as her face got hot and very red. Dana’s face grew hot, but not from embarrassment. Never one to get angry, she nevertheless was upset and said so.

“You mean to tell me that the reason you’re sorry is because you like her?” She looked at Alicia and frowned. She grabbed Alicia’s hand and stood.

“Not funny at all, Kenny. I don’t care what you do to me, but you’re not going to hurt her too.” Kenny reached up and went to grab her hand but thought better of it. He held it out instead and spoke.

“I’m….I’m not trying to be funny, Dana. Really.” It would have seemed to Dana to be yet another ploy of his, but look Kenny’s eyes spoke otherwise. She went to step away but Alicia grabbed her hand and held fast. She sat down and faced Kenny. Jackie had finished his second slice and was reaching for a third when Kenny shook his head. Jackie grabbed Dana’s Diet Coke instead and downed it quickly.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make such a big deal of it.” Dana glared once again at his words but he shook his head emphatically.

“I mean I didn’t want to make it all about me…oh fuck.” He lowered his head slightly and practically talked into his chest.

“I mean… I realized I like her….” He paused and lifted his head and looked at Alicia.

“I like you. I ….”

“So you like her.” Dana snapped defensively.

“I mean…. When I…I figured that I liked her and it….” He paused; the words seemed to be stuck. Jackie did something totally uncharacteristic for him, but Kenny’s epiphany seemed to drag him kicking and screaming in a sense into his own humanity as well.

“He figured that he liked you first…”

“Of course he liked her first! That’s what he just said.”

“Oh fuck….” Jackie’s look seemed to plead, leading Dana to nod as if to say, ‘go ahead.’

“He liked her…. not knowing …. It’s like it didn’t…oh fuck.” Jackie stammered; perhaps embarrassed for the first time in his life since Kindergarten when all the kids in class had money for a special lunch and he had none. Kenny tapped him on the shoulder, relieving him of his agonizing if entirely sincere attempt at being kind.

“You… I like you. You say you’re a girl…” He paused at Dana’s continued glare. She wasn’t trying to be mean, but his tendency to disappoint held her hostage to the past, so to speak. He smiled; earnestly enough that Dana’s expression softened and Alicia’s nervousness seemed to abate.

“You’re a girl and that’s what I have to remember.”

He paused, searching for words that would convey exactly how he felt. Feelings, while ever-present in his life, usually expressed themselves nearly all the time in sullen moods and angry outbursts; courtesy of his father’s example. The anger was being dealt with in therapy, but being emotional in any manner other than anger meant being vulnerable. Nevertheless, he was determined to be kind and nice and even….

“I liked you before I realized you really are a girl. I don’t know what that means.” Honesty on top of everything else? It was almost too much for him and it was entirely too much and just enough for Alicia as she began to cry. Kenny looked at Dana in plea as he went to speak.

“I didn’t…” She placed her hand on his; an uncharacteristic and altogether uncomfortable gesture for both of them, but entirely necessary as she spoke.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” She smiled awkwardly; getting to know the real Kenny Narcise was an adventure none of them expected to take. She patted Alicia’s wrist and the girl raised her head.

“Thank you.” Was all she could manage before she buried her face in Dana’s sleeve, sobbing. A boy in the next booth started laughing and Kenny began to stand. Jackie took a quick swig of Alicia’s drink before placing his hand on Kenny’s shoulder.

“I got this.” He laughed softly as he stood and walked around to the next booth. Placing his hands on the table, he leaned close to the boy and stared; his eyes widening in anger just enough to cause the boy to nod in tacit agreement that he risked his health and safety if he continued. Jackie smiled at him and walked back around and sat down. Somewhere between the glare at the boy and his return to the table, Jackie Pietrowski had just joined his best friend in renouncing his own status as a bully. Dana looked back and forth between the two of them before she did something entirely familiar but for a completely different reason.

“Th….thank you,” she stammered before she turned to Alicia and began to cry as well. Kenny reached across the table and patted each girl’s hand.

“I’m so sorry.” His nostrils flared just a bit and he wiped his face with his sleeve, ignoring the paper napkins on the table. In one moment his apology had given voice to all the unsaid words that each girl had longed to hear. He wasn’t sorry merely for his own insensitive and hateful ignorance, but also for the fact that the girls had and might even continue to endure that same hate from others. No longer a part of the problem, Kenny had just made a decision to be a part of the solution as well. He turned to Jackie and tilted his head a bit.

“Go ahead…” He began to whisper, but Jackie had already begun to speak.

“I’m so…sorry, too.” He seemed almost a bit overcome by the moment. The waitress came by and noticed both girls crying.

“I’m sorry, I’ll come back.” She went to turn, but Jackie got her attention with a wave, saying,

“Can I get a Chicken Parm to go?”

---

Meanwhile, at the Blue Ribbon at Culver Lake…

“You just shuddered. Are you cold?” Dave stood up and draped his jacket over Julia’s shoulders. It had grown cooler, but she spoke.

“Yes…a bit. I’m… I guess I’m not used to this much attention.” She sighed and grabbed the water glass; quickly interrupting her own words as she sipped. He nodded.

“Me, too. I’m feeling a bit….out of place.” He was about to make his old ‘I’m a military man’ excuse, but took a deep breath for courage.

“I can remember how much I cared about Greta, but I can hardly remember what it was like when we did things like this…” He used his hand in a sweeping gesture. Julia nodded.

“When Alan and I went out, it was usually with a client; I don’t even remember if we ever went out on dates much.” She lowered her head slightly in embarrassment. Dave leaned closer and lifted her chin gently.

“I’m sorry he didn’t appreciate you.” He might as well have said ‘love you,’ or any other phrase of endearment. She began to tear up.

“You deserve to be …” His voice trailed off and he sighed heavily as he felt guilty for everything her ex-husband had given her or neglected to give her. She shook her head in protest. As she went to put her head down once again he touched her cheek softly.

“You deserve to be loved.” She raised her head slightly and bit her lip with a half-frown, as if to deny any and all of what was on her heart and his. He smiled.

“Yes. You, Julia Capulano. You deserve to be loved.” He really didn’t have to go on, since the smile on his face and the tears in his own eyes spoke for him, but he continued,

“By me.” Her countenance went from embarrassed to almost ashamed to relieved to joyful in an instant, and she smiled back. Dave reached into his jacket pocket and produced a ring.

“I know this is sudden; we’ve hardly known each other for…”

“Yes? Dave?” Julia put her head down slightly once again in familiar fear. A second later she felt his presence by her side; a presence that was quickly followed by the most romantic kiss she had ever received. He paused only long enough to say,

“Yes, Julia…If you’ll have me?”

“Oh yes…yes.” She spoke even as his lips met hers again. One of the waitresses standing by the bar started to clap and in a few seconds every patron was applauding. All Julia noticed was her own soft cooing and the sweet aroma of Dave’s cologne along with the occasional ‘yes’ they both spoke.

To be Concluded

---

---

---

---

---

---

 
Previously

“I liked you before I realized you really are a girl. I don’t know what that means.” Honesty on top of everything else? It was almost too much for him and it was entirely too much and just enough for Alicia as she began to cry. Kenny looked at Dana in plea as he went to speak.

“I didn’t…” She placed her hand on his; an uncharacteristic and altogether uncomfortable gesture for both of them, but entirely necessary as she spoke.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” She smiled awkwardly; getting to know the real Kenny Narcise was an adventure none of them expected to take. She patted Alicia’s wrist and the girl raised her head.

“Thank you,” was all she could manage before she buried her face in Dana’s sleeve, sobbing….

---

A few days later…

“Hey Narcise…heard you like boys.” The banter might have been merely stupid and typical but for the mean sneer from the kid standing against the chem lab door, barring his way. He lifted his hand to push his way past but thought better of it. Jackie, on the other hand, saw no need for prudence and shoved the boy rudely aside, sending him careening into one of his friends.

“You don’t have to be my bodyguard, Jackie. I’m fine.” Kenny was nearly as tall as Jackie and athletically built in a wiry sort of way; great for baseball and maybe as a guard on the basketball team but hardly the sort of wrestler like his best friend. Still, Jackie’s expression seemed oddly put out.

“Jeez, Jack… No big deal. I’m glad you think of me…” he paused when he noticed Jackie was stepping back. As he went to lean against the alcove of the doorway he faltered.

“You okay?”

“I’m feeling….fucking weird.” He shrugged his shoulders and they entered the lab, but as Kenny followed he thought of the expression on Jackie’s face and it worried him.

---

A few days later…

“You mean we’re going to be sisters…for real?” Dana looked back and forth between Julia and Dave and smiled with a slight shrug. She knew her father well enough to know that if anyone might be able to see Alicia for who she was, it would be him. She wasn’t so sure about her new mother-to-be. But the day was a day of surprises. Julia stood up and walked to the sofa and stood with her hands offered to both girls. Dana stood up right away, but Alicia hesitated, holding her right hand close to her.

“I guess I’m going to have a daughter after all…” Her voice trailed off as she looked back at Dave. Alicia began to shake her head no, placing her hand across her face. Julia smiled and lifted Alicia’s chin and continued.

“I should say…. I’m going to have a daughter after all to go along with the one I already have.” Alicia’s eyes widened and Julia nodded; tears dripped off her chin onto the girl’s knee as she leaned closer.

“I’m so sorry for putting all my stuff on your shoulders. I never should have asked you to be something you weren’t, but it took the love of a man to remind me that you’re a young lady. Can you ever forgive me?” Dana rubbed Julia’s back and kissed her on the cheek as Alicia began to sob; tears of relief and joy fell freely for all four as the family became whole in so many ways.

---

Later that week…

“You guys set a date?” Dana asked her father as they sat down for dinner. Dave nodded as he took a sip of cranberry juice.

“Well?”

“Sorry….sometime in May….depends upon our own schedules, but no later than the week before Memorial Day.” Dana grinned.

“You know Ali and I will be having mad parties and all sorts of stuff while you two are off to Hawaii or wherever you guys are going for your honeymoon.”

“Yeah…I should just call the police and have them drop by. ‘Gee, Mr. Martino; the feathers were all over the house from the pillow fight! Never saw so much down in a slumber party in my life. We just had to arrest them.” Dave laughed, but Dana shook her head at what was supposed to be a clever nod to her ongoing journey.

“What did I say?” More of a not wanting to be in trouble than really feeling sorry, Dave’s tone put the girl off even more. He sighed.

“I’m sorry. Really…” He almost added ‘honey,’ but terms of endearment, almost foreign to the military man in him, were more than just uncomfortable. His smile seemed to soothe her a bit and she spoke.

“I’ll never see a slumber party. Between Alicia and Carol from my creative writing class and Tran down the street, I’ve got very few girls who actually want to be around me, much less come over to the house.”

She shook her head; it wasn’t all bright and cheery and instantly successful like some of the stories she had read. Three of the boys she had made friends with as Dante completely turned their backs once she came out as Dana, and one of them was positively hostile. If it wasn’t for Jackie and Kenny, she wouldn’t even have any boy friends at all. And that felt odd even as she thought of the words put together; boyfriends? She looked away and bowed her head, as if she had done something wrong.

“What’s wrong? I’m sorry…Dana…” Dave’s voice trailed off. Even with the concerted effort to push past old beliefs, it still felt strange on occasion; mostly when they talked about ‘the issue.’ Asking about class or about writing was no problem, but Dave was still wending his way through the labyrinth of transgender, trying to keep up with his daughter. She turned back at the mention of her name; smiling weakly with some tears in her eyes. He sighed.

“I haven’t been here for you for so long.” That neglect that some military kids feel even as ‘normal’ children. And it had been compounded at the loss of her mother and the discovery that he was a she all along. She bit her lip.

“I don’t feel like I fit in, Dad. At all.” He stared at her; part of him hoping that she’d just sigh deeply and drop the subject since he felt ill-equipped to hear her, much less help her through a problem. She shook her head at his expression but he leaned across the table and touched her wrist lightly; perhaps the first time he had been gentle in just that manner. She recoiled slightly at the unfamiliar gesture and he let go, but patted her hand as she withdrew it.

“Go ahead.” She shook her head slightly once again; more at a belief that she couldn’t convey what she felt in a way he could hear her. He surprised her.

“You don’t feel like you fit in? With your friends?” An odd if completely accurate bit of insight; he breathed out a relieved breath when she smiled slightly; glad that he heard her.

“I’m…I don’t fit in.” Dave avoided the urge to remind her that she had just repeated herself. He nodded.

“Kenny has been talking to Alicia….”

“Yes? Talking…” She threw a mock-glare at him.

“Sorry.”

“We’re all friends…just friends, Dad. But Kenny ….he’s ….He and Alicia maybe….”

“I remember that...what you all talked about. Pretty emotional from what I recall.”

“Kenny likes Alicia.” She sighed.

“Yeah…I got that. Does that bother you?”

“NO!” She shook her head.

“No…at least not that way.” Dave nodded as if he understood but Dana knew he didn’t.

“I…. Alicia keeps asking me about Jackie…. You know? Kenny’s best friend?” Dave had a vague idea since there was that boy he recalled who stuck up for them.

“He seems nice enough. What’s the problem?” He might as well said ‘what’s YOUR problem, since his tone indicated an almost disappointment; making her task of being heard all the more difficult. And that was made all the more frustratingly confusing since Dave would never have asked his son that question.

“I don’t like him.” Dave tilted his head in surprise.

“No…not that way. I like him enough as a friend of a friend, but I don’t like him as …. Oh fuck!” She turned away; her face was turning red from embarrassment and shame. It was also the first time Dave had ever heard her swear; a surprise on a variety of indistinct levels. He touched her hand again and this time she didn’t withdraw. She leaned her head on his arm and began to cry.

“What did I say….honey?” The first utterance was awkward if well-intended and completely disarming. She looked up at him and shook her head.

“No…not what you said…what I said. I don’t LIKE Jackie…” She stammered before putting her head down on his arm once again, practically pinning it to the table. He took his other hand and stroked her hair; a gesture he remembered from when she was little. She sobbed for a few moments before turning her head sideways, revealing a very sad countenance.

“You don’t like Jackie? That’s okay. He can just be a friend. There are other boys.” At the word ‘boys,’ Dana sobbed a bit more before sitting up. She shook her head and pounded her fist on her knee in frustration and shame.

“Don’t you get it? I don’t like Jackie because I don’t like boys.” She put her head on her arms and sobbed again. Dave resumed stroking her hair.

“Oh.” He said meekly; trying to understand. She was shaking her head even as it rested on her arms.

“You don’t understand….” She sobbed.

“I feel so left out…I don’t feel like I fit in….” She repeated her near plea from the beginning of their conversation. Dave shook his head; mirroring her expression. A look of confusion was swiftly replaced as his eyes widened in recognition. He spoke slowly and with as much compassion as a parent of a misfit child can speak; wanting to do more than just nod in agreement. He stood up and walked over and knelt next to her; putting his face at her level.

“It…it’s not that I don’t like boys… oh fuck…” There went that word again; the sort of language he would never have expected from her that exactly conveyed how hurt and scared she felt; that it was so hard to tell him. He half-smiled; his eyes conveyed that part of him that loved and supported his child unconditionally, which in a way gave her permission to finally say,

“I don’t like boys!

“You don’t like boys because….” He paused, hoping he was right in his understanding even as part of him picked up the confusion he had just dropped.

“You like girls?”

“Ye…yesssss….” She sobbed once again. He pulled closer to her and touched her face, wiping away the tears.

“It’s okay, Dana…really…it’s just fine.” It wasn’t quite ‘just fine,’ since emotions and beliefs and perceptions and actions and such needed to be sorted out over time, but it was entirely okay. And of course what was meant to provide a safe, supportive environment for her sounded exactly the opposite as she grabbed his arm and placed her face on it; sobbing into his sweater. For a moment he felt completely confused and entirely wrong until he felt her hand squeeze his arm in reassurance that he had said exactly what she needed to hear.

---

The Capulano home, the following Saturday afternoon…

Alicia sat on the couch, folding clothes and placing them on the coffee table. Dana sat across from her in the wooden rocker by the fireplace, folding towels. The doorbell rang. She got up and went to the door. Opening it, she found Kenny standing a bit askance from the doorway, looking anxiously down the street.

“Where’s Alicia???”

“Well, hello and how are you?” Dana said and pointed with her hand to the couch. Kenny pushed past her but paused long enough to speak.

“Sorry….” He strode urgently toward Alicia.

“Can your Mom give me…give us a ride to the hospital?” As he spoke Julia came out of the bedroom with a basket of clothes to be washed. She placed the basket on the easy chair by the door and spoke.

“Oh, Kenny…what…who?”

“It’s Jackie….he…he had a heart attack.”

---

Emergency Services, Newton Medical Center…

Dana gripped Kenny’s hand tightly on one side while Alicia held his arm. A moment later they were met in the corridor next to the entrance by a tall girl who looked vaguely familiar to the girls. Kenny stepped up to the girl and pulled her into an awkward hug. She patted his back and pulled back slightly. Apart from the slightest hint of makeup and long blond hair, Dana swore the girl looked like a younger brother of Jackie but in drag.

“The doctor said it’s okay…he’s going to be okay, but it’s….”

She began to cry. He hugged her again and spoke very quietly in her ear. She nodded and blinked back some tears. Looking more vulnerable than Dana had recalled, she realized the girl was not only Jackie’s sister but his one-time partner in crime in teasing her and Alicia. The hair on the back of her neck bristled only a bit. As Kenny pulled away again the girl looked directly at Dana and half-frowned, but the expression seemed almost out of place, even with their brief antagonistic history.

“I… you’re Kenny’s friend Dana, right?”

She spoke almost in a whisper; a far cry from the taunting Dana had heard when she and her father first moved to Newton. A couple of years can make a difference after all; the Pietrowski family wasn’t immune to grace, which meant Dana couldn’t be resistant to her own change. She stepped closer, noting that the girl was nearly six feet tall.

“I’m Irena….Pietrowski….Jackie’s sister.”

She offered her hand and Dana shook it cautiously. Obviously Irena didn’t remember their past, and it really wasn’t the time to bring it up. Alicia stepped forward. She grabbed Kenny by the arm once again, but offered her hand to Irena. The girl shook her hand and looked around, almost distracted.

“Daddy’s out of town and Mom is with Jackie. The doctor said it…they got him just in time. He’s going to be okay…” She started to cry; an almost bizarre expression considering how strong she looked and how she had treated both girls in the past. She stood up, as if to gather herself and shook her head.

“I’m sorry. I don’t get this way at all.”

Dana wanted to slap her; the girl’s brother nearly died and she’s acting like it’s about her. Dana failed to even note that in judging the girl she was almost acting in an identical fashion. Alicia stepped out of Kenny’s arm and hugged the girl. No awkwardness at all; Alicia began to cry as she rubbed the girl’s back. Too many times for all of them, it would seem, to feel scared over loss or hurt. She squeezed the girl’s hands.

“I know…you’re still afraid he might die.”

An altogether abrupt if completely accurate and needful assessment that enabled Irena to let go. She began to weep in Alicia’s arms. A moment later a tallish woman stepped out of the elevator down the hall and walked up to the group. She wore drab blue scrub pants and a colorful top with pictures of bunnies and kittens; a pediatric nurse.

“Irena? Are you okay? Honey…Jackie’s okay. I’ll be going back up in a little while. The doctor says no visitors tonight, but he should be fine for everyone to come tomorrow morning.” She said this to them as much to Irena. The family resemblance was easily seen apart from a bit of graying in her otherwise very blond hair.

“I’m Ewa, Irena’s mother. Jackie’s….”

As much strength as she had just imparted to her daughter left her and she began to cry; that place of safety with friends that helps us let go. Alicia kept one hand on Irena’s arm while reaching around to grab the woman’s hand.

“You just said he’ll be okay. He’s very lucky to have a nice family.”

It felt odd for Dana to hear her best friend say that since Irena had been perhaps even meaner than Jackie and Kenny; that rejection by a girl stung more painfully in a way. Irena shook her head. Even in the midst of an emergency, she seemed distracted until she spoke.

“Mom…these are Jackie’s friends.” She made a particular point to stare at Dana; shaking her head once again. Dana went to turn, feeling discouraged and insulted once again until Irena walked up to her and hugged her; very strong arms embracing her as if to never let go.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been so bad to you. I’ve been meaning to call you ever since Jackie told me about you and her,” she said quickly in a hoarse whisper as she looked back at Alicia. The omission didn’t escape Dana’s notice and she spoke.

“Alicia…her name is Alicia.” She couldn’t even recall if Irena had ever known Alicia’s name, but neither did she make any attempt to find out.

“I’m so sorry.” Irena looked back and forth between Dana and Alicia before pulling away. She muttered something to her mother before running down the hall to the restroom.

“She is sorry,” Alicia said as she stared at the door of the restroom. She turned back to Dana and half-frowned.

“And I guess she needs to know that you know she is.” Alicia shrugged her shoulders and walked over to Mrs. Pietrowski once again, grabbing her hand.

“Don’t worry. We’ll make sure she’s okay. Why don’t you go back upstairs, okay?”

“Are you sure? Oh, thank you. Moj drogi…. Oops …sorry…. That’s ‘dear one.’ You don’t mind do you?”

Alicia shook her head no even as tears fell freely. It had taken almost all of her lifetime to hear something so sweet from someone; even her mother never had spoken so gently to her. Ewa pulled her into a hug. Kenny waved weakly; too many hugs already in one day. Dana nodded and half-smiled; feeling entirely embarrassed and ashamed. She walked up to Ewa and gave her a hug.

“I’ll walk you down to the elevator. Then I’ve got some apologizing of my own to do.” She grabbed Ewa by the arm and turned to walk down the hall, but not before she nodded at Alicia; leaving her with no clue about the gesture. After dropping Ewa off by the elevator, Dana walked over to the restroom. She knocked on the door.

“It’s not locked…” a voice came from inside. Dana pushed the door open and found the restroom to be larger than she expected. She noticed two stalls. The first was open, but the one furthest from the door was occupied.

“Irena?”

“Go away.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So you’re sorry…go away,” she gasped. Dana heard the girl’s head bonk on the side panel of the stall.

“Irena. I’m so sorry I hurt you.” It was almost odd; the prey apologizing to the predator, but there it was. She clicked the lock closed on the door before she walked over to the open stall and sat down.

“I know you are…That doesn’t change how I treated you.” She hesitated. It almost seemed that Irena didn’t want to accept the forgiveness she had to offer, but she imagined it had to be serious. Irena sighed and continued.

“I…I don’t want to make excuses, you know? But…. I guess you know all about being bullied so you probably have heard all the reasons, right? Excuses.” Dana could almost imagine her shaking her head.

“I’m…I’m not very pretty…hell I’m not pretty at all.” She choked back a sob. Dana could hardly remember exactly how the girl looked but she figured the estimate was probably fairly accurate.

“My father wanted a boy when I was born, so he’s always been….He’s gotten better, but he was never very nice with me like a dad is with a girl, you know?” Dana of course didn’t know since she spent the first fourteen and a half years of her life as a boy. She sighed in echo to the girl on the other side of the panel.

“Even after Jackie came along…when we were little he’d tease me and say stuff…not really bad, but it was like he didn’t like me even if he loved me? Oh fuck…. I don’t know how to put it.” Dana thought she put it just fine.

“And he was even worse on Jackie… Like I said…. It wasn’t so much what he did but what he didn’t do…you know?” Dana remembered the few but very painful years right after her mother died and she was left almost an orphan as her father advanced rather than retreated in his military duty. She leaned over and placed her head against the panel. She could feel a tiny bit of vibration as the girl moved her head on the other side and spoke.

“So when we got bigger…I know it was just like they say in school…we took it out on other kids. I don’t think Jackie and I ever talked about it but it was like we got together and that was that. When you moved into the neighborhood…and especially after you met your friend there…me and Jackie and Kenny…. Oh fuck. It must have been hell for you.”

“It was.” Dana said. She heard a loud gasp that quickly turned into sobs. When Irena stopped crying Dana spoke again.

“But that’s over with.” She said it with a sigh of relief, but her words evoked another gasp.

“You…you can’t understand.”

“Try me.” Dana started biting her nails in frustration.

“When I realized why I was being such a …. I knew I was wrong. But I kept it up even though it made me feel bad…. I…” she paused. Dana nodded as if Irena could see her.

“I told my mom what was going on. She was very upset but she didn’t get angry or anything. She looked at me and smiled and said….’Ah…Bobby Cohen.’” Dana nodded again reflexively but then shook her head, confused.

“She said that when she was little a boy in the neighborhood teased her. She laughed…not at me but at the story and hugged me. I couldn’t figure out what the hell she meant. Then she says Babci Nita…my grandmother? She says Babci Nita told her it was because Bobby liked her. Fuck.” Dana shook her head and a moment later the girl spoke again, haltingly through tears.

“Don’t you get it? Oh fuck…” Dana thought for a moment and her eyes widened in insight even as her face grew red and hot.

“You….you like me?”

“I…I think I always have….maybe not so much when we first met…oh fuck.”

“When …when I was a boy?” It wasn’t quite true even if it was fairly accurate.

“I’m sorry…when you started….dressing? No...that’s not it. When Dana first started showing up… I think I always knew…does that make me crazy? I know…I know you’re not a boy. But I…oh fuck.”

“Yeah…oh fuck.” The words might have been a bit abrupt, but the accompanying sigh helped a great deal in speaking beyond what Dana said.

“You’re not ….you don’t…” Irena paused and gasped.

“No…, just the opposite.”

“You’re….”

“Yes… I’m just figuring it out for myself.”

“But I thought you and Jackie might….”

“Jackie and Kenny used to be the worst people in my life but now they’re like the big brothers I never had.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. Jackie is one of the nicest people I know now that he’s become….”

“Human? I wish I could say the same thing.”

“Your apology said it all, Irena. And the way you looked at Alicia; like she mattered. She’s hardly ever had that.

“I’m still sorry. I treated you and her so bad.” Dana heard Irena’s head bonk against the panel. She stood up and walked around; taking a chance, she pushed the stall door. It opened easily and Irena looked up. Her eyes were red and her face was streaked with tears.

“Come on…let’s get out of here, okay?” She offered the girl her hand and pulled her to her feet.

“You don’t hate me.”

“No…” Dana stammered a bit and her face grew hot and red all over again.

“Really? “

“Yes.” She stared at Irena. The girl was nearly four inches taller than her, but she saw something else. While she wasn’t pretty, she was attractive…striking in an odd way, in fact. And in a moment, fate seemed to have sealed a long-delayed if meticulously planned deal for the two of them as they departed the restroom as friends.

---

Meanwhile…

Kenny stood in the hallway by the emergency waiting room, staring at Alicia. He shook his head and laughed softly; a moment of spectacular revelation.

“What…Did I do something wrong?” Alicia stepped back slightly. Kenny shook his head no, and she beheld the first of many beneficent smiles; another new experience on a day of wonder. Kenny stepped closer, and his eyes sparkled like the reflection of fireworks in a puddle; beauty emerging from the common so to speak.

“You were wonderful.” His shoulders lifted slightly and he grinned; not silly or half-involved, but that kind of grin you get when you know that you know that you know. Almost eighteen, his path had hardly begun to light up before him, but he could see down the road clearly without obstruction. He stepped closer to her and grabbed her right hand. What he meant as a warm hug with hopeful promise or at least a bit of hope on his end immediately became much more. She looked into his eyes once again and saw more than sparkle. Embers of something else? He pulled her close.

“I ….” He stammered. The vision down the road was blurred by his own tears as he looked into her eyes and beheld the kindest, most precious girl he would ever know. And he did what most everyone would have done had they been in his place. As he went to kiss her forehead in a thankful gesture she tilted her head slightly to keep eye contact. And he kissed her lips; tentatively at first; that feeling of being unworthy and the tenderness that wishes no harm and only some blessing if anything. But she pulled back a tiny bit; long enough to speak. One word of question.

“Kenny?”

And he answered in the only way he knew how by kissing her once again; this time just as gentle but not at all tentative or fearful. As if both realized in this one single moment what life held for them and that neither would ever be ashamed again. Alicia kissed back…and it was wonderful!

---

Epilogue…from Alicia’s Chance

Sometime later....Perona Farms, Andover, New Jersey…

"Dave...can you get me my camera? It's on the table over there." Julia waved as the group of women gathered.
A tall girl stood in the middle of the reception hall, standing even a bit taller due to the three inch heels of her white ankle boots. A moment later, several girls dove for the bouquet as it bounced off the low light fixture, landing in the arms of a seven year old girl who grinned sheepishly. The bride received a hug and kiss from the groom before turning and walking toward her maid of honor.

"I tried to angle it so you'd get it, Dana." Alicia said; the newly-wed Mrs. Kenneth Angelo Narcise then hugged her sister. She pulled back and half smiled, her eyes filled with tears.
"No worries, Sis!" She smiled back as she lifted her left hand and the left hand of the young woman standing next to her, pointing to identical rings.

"Got it covered!"

Dana turned and smiled at the ring on Irena’ s finger. Between Dana’s and Ewa’s and Julia’s attention, the girl looked very pretty, but it was perhaps owing more to the love she and Dana had discovered as their best friendship grew into something just as special but also so much more in a way.

“My baby!” Ewa came over and kissed the two before gathering her daughter in a hug.

“You next, moja cá³rka!” She turned to Dana and nodded,

“And you!” Ewa’s father stepped close and hugged his daughter and soon-to-be daughter in law. No need for apologies; those had been exchanged long ago, and the family had come full circle. Jackie came up and spoke.

“They want you guys to come over and take a picture cutting the cake, okay?” He smiled as everyone walked back to the tables, leaving him alone with Kenny and Alicia.

“I love you guys!” He stepped close and did something entirely precious if completely unexpected as he kissed Kenny on the cheek; brother to brother. And he kissed Alicia on the forehead; also as a brother but to dearly beloved sister.

“See you over there,” he said, pointing to the cake table by the front of the hall. He gave them thumbs up before walking away. Kenny turned to Alicia.

“I love you…you know that, Mrs. Narcise?”

“Never a doubt. Well…it was touch and go for a while but yes. I know you love me. And I love you so much, Mr. Narcise!” She pulled him close; face to face since she wore her heels, and pulled him into the nicest kiss yet; only to be surpassed by each succeeding kiss for a lifetime.

“Never a doubt.”

Next: Melina’s Blessing

---

---

---

---

---

---

 
From Melina’s Chance

“You have a daughter, Nicko. I think you should take the time to get to know her. She works harder than your sons ever did combined. And she loves you. After all that you’ve shown her? After the teasing and the hitting and the insults? She loves you, Nicko. Your sister still loves you, but you won’t have her. Make room in your heart before it’s too late. I can never hold my Alexandra…ever again. Hold her while you have a chance, my friend.” Alex stood up and patted his friend on the shoulder before walking toward the door.

“Come, girls. You come to my house with Ari here, okay?”

He smiled and helped his daughter Ariadne to her feet. Ari in turn stood and waited while Stephanie Elias made her way out of the booth. And finally, needing a lot of assistance was a very sweet Emo Girl with a face streaked with makeup from crying; Melina Macros stepped gingerly out of the booth and to the door. She waved to Helen who just sighed as her daughter walked out of the restaurant with her friends. And Nicko sat at his booth still shaking his head.

---

Hawthorne, New Jersey, Christmas Eve, several years later...

“Mel?” The voice called from the bedroom. Melina turned and walked down the hallway. She heard her name, but any attempt to hold a conversation with three rooms between them under the best of circumstances would have been difficult at best. And even now, things were getting more difficult in some ways though ever better in others.

“Yes?” She poked her head into the bedroom doorway, finding her bride lying on the bed in a come hither pose. Stephanie patted the bed and waved in beckon to Melina. She walked over and stood. A smile was met by warm and caring hands pulling her down on the bed, and quickly following the embrace with an even warmer kiss.

“We have some time, you know.” Stephanie grinned and pointed to the clock CD player sitting on the night stand. Three O’Clock; their guests weren’t due for another two hours, and even at that, at least one of the four would arrive late anyway, if at all. Dinner was going to be simple; intention to detail would be focused solely on the company and the hope of some interaction between both sets of parents. Actually the interaction would hopefully be between three and one, since it was the estrangement that they had hoped to at least bring to some tentative conclusion.

“I’m scared, Steph,” Melina said as she mumbled between kisses. Undaunted, Stephanie continued to keep her focus and continued to kiss Melina. The attention was greeted with a different if understandable reaction than what Stephanie had hoped for as Melina began to sob. Sometimes even the kindest and most assuring acceptance can be trumped by past hurts and rejection.

“It’s okay, honey. It’s okay.” Stephanie continued to kiss Melina, but with much greater attention; redoubling her efforts. Soon the two lay side by side; spooning they used to call it. Melina’s sobs had subsided to soft weeping as Stephanie etched hearts and ‘I love you’ on Melinas’s back with her nails. A bit playful perhaps, but necessary for both of them given the evening they had in front of them.

It would be nice to spend time with Stephanie’s parents, of course. Melina loved her mother and welcomed any time together with her, but considering the circumstances for both her and Helen, it would be difficult at best. That they had chosen to reach out to Melina’s father once again after three years was going to prove the most difficult.

Too many old hurts mixed with too many new challenges; not a very appetizing menu for a Christmas Eve dinner. They could only do what they had done all along; hope and pray, since Nicko had been estranged from his wife and daughter for nearly four years. How they managed to get him to agree to a visit remained a mystery even though it seemed that he was eager if completely out of character in insisting that he indeed would attend dinner.

Melina and Stephanie had so much to share with Stephanie’s parents and with Helen Constantanopolous. What Nicko had to share with all of them would change their lives forever.

---

December 27….

New Years being just around the corner, so to speak, Melina and Stephanie were finalizing plans for the holiday. While both would have preferred to have Helen join them ringing in the New Year with Stephanie’s family, the dreaded day approached with Melina understandably anxious over the hope that the family would be finally reconciled. And of course his not-surprising absence at Christmas left Mel wondering if her father would show up at all. Just what Nicko had to share with her and her mother was enough to foster worrisome speculation. Stephanie could do only so much to assure Mel that things would be okay. And with the anticipated continued absence of her brothers, Mel felt that she and Helen would be left alone to face one more disappointment.

The doorbell rang; Stephanie had her hands full with a basket of laundry and she shouted from the back bedroom.

“Mel? Would you get that?” Melina pushed the cat off her lap; his claws stuck to her jeans and she practically dragged him to the front door. She opened it to find two familiar faces.

“Hey….” The young man waved weakly from behind his older brother. Nick remained silent and nodded with a half-smile.

“Oh….” Melina bit her lip. Since college her brothers had maintained an all-too-infrequent connection with her; mostly due to the pull of their own lives The two turned to each other and frowned; an sadly anticipated reaction by the girl at the door fueled by their protracted absence in her life. Chris stepped out from behind Nick and opened his arms, begging for a forgiving hug. Melina pulled back a bit, only to bump into Stephanie.

“I’m sorry, Mel,” Chris said with a shrug; as if just showing up at her door would heal so many years of neglect and absence, no matter what the excuse. Nick put his hand out.

“We are both sorry….I’m sure Pete would say the same thing if he was here. Pete had been the only one in frequent contact with Melina even though his deployment kept him away half-way around the globe.

“Why don’t you two come in and we can have some coffee, okay?” Stephanie said as she squeezed Melanie around the shoulders.

“Yes…c…come in.” It hardly seemed fair. When she and Stephanie wed, no one from the family besides their mother Helen attended. It was a heartbreak for Melina since she had hoped at least to see her brothers wish her and Steph well. And of course she held out no hope whatsoever that her father would give anything but an angry curse to them. She sighed at the memory of the biggest disappointment in her life.

“Mel?” Nick actually stooped a bit lower and looked up into his sister’s face like when they were little. Always the baby in the family when the word ‘baby’ was almost an insult. The little boy who didn’t fit into his own family had become the younger sister they never knew they had despite her sad, frequent pleas.

“What?” She had begun to cry; their sudden return into her life was disconcerting at best, and it was too hard to reconcile the hurt so quickly.

“I am so sorry.” Nick bit his lip; even with all the teasing within the family, he had been her protector from the bullying and taunting from the neighborhood kids. Yanni Macros was the baby brother Nick remembered even as he stood face-to-face with the younger girl everyone else seemed to recognize. However ironic the name calling had been, Yanni had always been Melina in a way. Somewhere between then and now, a young woman had finally begun her life, and it was literally better late than never that the two oldest Macros children came to realize that.

“I…I know.” She reached out and grabbed Nick’s hand and pulled him close.

“Please….for…forgive me?” The words were hesitant; not because of conviction, since Nick was very much convinced of how awful he had been to his sister. He just didn’t feel that he deserved forgiveness. Grace was very infrequently and sparingly offered to all of the Macros children and to their mother. Nicko Macros was at least judicious in this manner; he gave as much grace to his family as his father had given to him; perhaps more. And in a world of dysfunction, any improvement is considered good, however small.

“Y…yes….” She pulled him close and buried her face in his shoulder. She had worshipped her brothers like many children do; the betrayal all the more painful for the loss of relationship with someone she believed loved her. He did, as did Chris and Pete never stopped loving her. Chris stepped close and reached around Nick, touching Mel’s hand. She blindly grasped his hand and squeezed tight; that signal that forgiveness was never to be reserved and was offered freely.

“Why don’t you guys sit down in the living room and I’ll just put on a pot of coffee, okay?” Steph said as she ushered the three over to the couch. Nick stepped back and sat down on the old rocker facing the couch, leaving Chris to sit next to Mel. Even in the midst of reconciliation, Nick was once again abdicating any responsibility; leaving the comforting hugs to his younger brother. He seemed completely satisfied with himself until Steph walked in with a tray with four mugs of tea. She placed the tray on the coffee table and pulled a dining room chair into the living room; sitting down next to Nick.

“Join the party, pal!” She said with a laugh. He turned to her and she grinned a toothy grin and pointed to the two on the couch. What tension remained seemed to dissipate quickly as Mel spoke.

“I’m still angry, Nick. Chris.” Chris seemed almost put out since he was the one who had offered a conciliatory hug.

“I thought you said you forgave us,” Chris asked as he shook his head in disbelief.

“Yes…but I’m still angry. I could have understood if you had at least said you couldn’t come. You never once told me you were upset with…..” She practically glared at Nick. Chris turned away, as if by diverting his attention to the attractive vase of daisies sitting on the kitchen table he would somehow drift away from the conversation. Mel turned to him once again and grabbed his arm.

“No, Chris. This isn’t something you can just nod and say…okay; now that that’s over we can move on!’ He turned to face her and found her sporting a half-smile. She didn’t want to stay angry, but he had to know how much disappointment he and Nick had practically ignored for the past several years.

“Steph and I are okay. I’m not happy with what you did to me and her, but I’m a big girl.” She bit her lip in thought even as the irony seemed to sink in. Chris laughed and she shook her head with a bit of a glare.

“I mean it, Chris. It’s Mommy you owe the apology to. Your presence here is…well it’s enough for now to begin to fix things, but it’s not just going to be all rosy now that you’ve decided we don’t have the plague. Mommy was so hurt. It wasn’t just my wedding …our wedding you missed. It was …It felt…” Melina began to tear up and Stephanie took over.

“Helen cried over your absence. It felt like you took sides. You didn’t have to stay away. Unless you actually agreed with your father about Mel.” She paused and turned to face Nick. His face had grown red and he was looking down at the floor. Chris wore a nearly identical expression.

“You DID agree with him. What a couple of….” Now it was Stephanie’s turn to be angry. Melina had pulled away slightly from Chris and was sitting back with her arms folded around her in a self-hug. She stood up and walked to Chris. Grabbing him by the hand she spoke.

“Get up. Come on.”

“What…you want us to leave?”

“No…I just want you to get up.” She shook her head and looked over at Nick.

“Go sit by your brother.” She pushed him almost gently toward Nick, sitting down where Chris had been only seconds before. She grabbed Melina’s hand and squeezed.

“I’ve only met the two of you a handful of times. It strikes me that you’re fairly reasonably intelligent young men. So how is it that in growing up with a mother like Helen and a brother like Pete and a sister…” she paused for effect and began again, repeating herself.

“With a sister like Mel here and you two turned out to be such jerks. Oh…yeah… the Macros family business.

“Restaurants?”

“No…. unrealistic expectations! You guys are just like your Dad. I’ve only met him once. If looks could kill I would have been the star corpse on CSI: Bergen County. The only redeeming part of the whole thing is that if I’d been a guy he still would have hated me because he still hates Mel so much. Which is why what you two did hurts even more.”

“We don’t hate you,” Chris said, turning to Nick for approval. Nick shook his head with a half-frown as if to say ‘of course we don’t.’

“I…We know. That’s what makes it hurt so much. You should know what’s what, but you both decided that it was better to placate the father that treated you all like you were employees than love your own sister.”

“I do love Mel.” Nick said with a sigh; almost an angry protest by an innocent man.

“Really?” Mel snapped at him but softened just a bit.

“How many times have you called me Yanni… ‘Just kidding.’ Just kidding? You can’t know how much that hurts.”

“You know I’m teasing, right?” Nick half-smiled in accomplishment.

“Really? No kidding.” Stephanie rolled her eyes and went on.

“It’s hard enough to get any affirmation anywhere, and your own sister has to practically beg for you to be kind. When your father makes a point in the very few times he’s spoken to us to call her his son? So, yeah. She’s knows you’re kidding. We just can’t figure out it hasn’t sunk in for the two of you how much it hurts her.” She patted Melina on the arm, prompting the girl to speak.

“I know you love me, Nick…Chris… But there’s loving someone and really showing that. You want to make Daddy happy. And what has that gotten you? Is he proud of you? Nick? You started your own catering business. And Chris? What about you?” She faced him and he put his head down once again.

“You’re married to a very nice girl with the only Macros grandchild…granddaughter, right? You’re a successful lawyer in Newark? Got that big house in Essex Fells? Daddy ever say he was proud of you? Or is it just another chance to fall just short of what he never even told you he expected?” Mel eyed the mug in front of her. Stephanie grabbed her hand and whispered.

“Honey….you can do this.*” She made a point to place the mug of tea in both of Melina’s hands, urging her to take a sip.

“You’re right. I don’t know what it will take to make him happy.” Nick shook his head. It wasn’t a time for maudlin reflection or sentimentality. Tears came to his eyes as he looked back and forth between Stephanie and Melina. Angry, self-remonstrative crying while offering tears that helped clarify what he already knew.

“Nothing makes him happy. I…I don’t think….”

“I’m so sorry,” Chris spoke up. His eyes had welled up a bit, but he spoke with a confidence rarely shown to his family.

“How fucking stupid. What a waste of time. He arose and patted Nick on the back before stepping closer to the couch. Stooping down, he pushed the coffee table aside and leaned close to hug Mel.

“I am so sorry,” he said, repeating himself. If his earlier apology was entirely self-serving, this one was authentic. No regrets merely to not be in trouble with his sister, but a real heart-rending understanding of just how sadly foolish he and Nick had been. And that meant to his mother and perhaps even Pete. The two would soon find out just how much Pete had been hurt as well. As much promise of a crying fest that gesture might have meant, it was brought home, so to speak, with serious clarity as Stephanie spoke.

“So what do we do about this, guys? I mean…you’re not alone in this. We’re not expecting you to fix this on your own, but if this family is going to get right somehow, what do we do?” Mel turned to Stephanie and practically beamed. It was comforting; encouraging in fact, to know that Stephanie felt as much a part of her family as she did. What is that old expression? She that findeth a wife findeth a good thing? In New Jersey of all places.

Nick breathed out a sigh of relief before waving to the three across the room.

“First thing? Chris and I … We should go see Mommy.”

He shook his head. Better late than never is small compensation when you realize it’s your own fault that things were frightfully delayed. His face was red; not guilt-ridden shame, but rightfully ashamed at his behavior toward his sister and his mother. He stood enough to sit down next to Melina, looking a bit nervous until Stephanie reached across Melina’s lap and squeezed his hand.

“No…You two and we two will go see Mommy together.” Mel brightened at Stephanie’s words; the idea they would all begin to reconcile as family was heartening, but hearing Stephanie use the word ‘Mommy’ as an endearment was just plain nice.

---

Willow Creek Townhomes, Fairlawn, New Jersey…the following day….

Five adults stood crowded on the front steps of Helen’s townhouse. Nonee Macros held baby Kyra in her arms as Melina hugged her shoulders. Stephanie stood behind the two, a figurative support for the siblings as Chris and Nick stood in front of the door. After a sharp knock, they stepped back a little, waiting for Helen to answer. A moment later she opened the door. A look of sad confusion seemed to almost cover her face.

“Oh…hi…” she said quietly, as if a visit from Chris and Nick was commonplace. She turned and walked back to the couch and sat down. She looked away for a moment as they all ushered through the front door and into the living room. She looked at Nick; practically shrugging her shoulders at his presence as her mind seemed almost distant.

“Mom? What’s wrong?” Melina said as she sat down on the couch next to Helen. Her mother turned to her and sighed before security of her daughter’s love gave her permission to break down.

“Oh….honey….I….” She gasped and then sat upright, collecting herself.

“I just….just got off the phone with your Aunt Kallie….Your….”

“Daddy?” Chris said; the boy of twelve asserting himself in the adult at the anticipation of bad news of his father. Helen shook her head, and everyone knew immediately what the gesture meant, but it took Stephanie to speak it.

“He’s gone, right?” Helen looked up into Stephanie’s eyes and nodded as tears came to her own. She fell into Melina’s embrace and began to sob softly. Stephanie walked into the kitchen and a few minutes came back.

“I put on some coffee.” She walked over and grabbed the remote and turned the cable to a quiet music channel before turning down the volume to a soft whisper. Walking over to Nonee, she held out her arms and her sister-in-law handed Kyra to her before walking over to embrace Chris as he sobbed in her arms. Nick stood alone before Stephanie walked up and rubbed his arm. He put his hand to his face and began to cry as he spoke.

“I …why am I so …he was such a….” He paused, not wanting to speak aloud anything that would hurt his mother.

“Because he was your father. I don’t know why else, but you miss….” Stephanie hadn’t meant to take charge, but she was just enough detached to be the strong one and just enough included to know she could. She leaned closer.

“You miss the things that were good and maybe you miss the things that never were? It’s okay to be sad, Nick. You don’t have to stay angry at him…especially now.” She turned to Melina and Helen and back.

“Time enough to sort things out. It’s okay.” She pulled the baby over to her other arm and leaned close, kissing Nick on the cheek.

“Go ahead, bro. It’s alright.” The few last words were enough as Nick leaned close to Stephanie and began to sob. As she consoled him she looked back to see Melina staring at them; a tearful smile had emerged as she nodded back at her spouse in pride.

“She that findeth a wife......”

to be concluded...

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

 
Previously

“I …why am I so …he was such a….” He paused, not wanting to speak aloud anything that would hurt his mother.

“Because he was your father. I don’t know why else, but you miss….” Stephanie hadn’t meant to take charge, but she was just enough detached to be the strong one and just enough included to know she could. She leaned closer.

“You miss the things that were good and maybe you miss the things that never were? It’s okay to be sad, Nick. You don’t have to stay angry at him…especially now.” She turned to Melina and Helen and back.

Time enough to sort things out. It’s okay.” She pulled the baby over to her other arm and leaned close, kissing Nick on the cheek.

“Go ahead, bro. It’s alright.” The few last words were enough as Nick leaned close to Stephanie and began to sob. As she consoled him she looked back to see Melina staring at them; a tearful smile had emerged as she nodded back at her spouse in pride.

“She that findeth a wife......”

---

Browning-Forshay Funeral Home, Hawthorne, New Jersey, a few evenings later…

“This happened all so fast, kids. I’m sorry I didn’t get to talk with you sooner,” Kallie said as she hugged each of the Macros children in turn. Even as adults, they held an almost childlike place in her heart. A fairly tall woman clutched her arm, giving her support. Mina had been with their Aunt Kallie for years, and was a part of the family. 

“Kallie was on the phone with your dad….” Mina’s voice trailed off as everyone nodded silently.

“He was going to…..he wanted…” Kallie’s eyes began to tear up when her gaze fell upon Melina. It would have been a cruel twist of fate but for the love Melaina still held in her own heart for her father in spite of the rejection she had endured for years merely for being herself.

“Let’s go sit down…..we have to talk before everyone gets here.” A few moments later they all sat in a welcoming room that afforded them some quiet and privacy.

“My brother was a stubborn man, but he never wanted to hurt anyone. He was just too hurt himself.” Kallie shook her head. She didn’t want to make excuses. For years she had endured his anger and rejection over her relationship with Mina and she had every right to be bitter. But she had long ago realized how dangerous that mindset was; played out in agonizing detail in her brother’s life. She looked at Helen and nodded. The woman smiled and nodded back.

“Your father showed up at my place a few days ago. I couldn’t bear to see him since we separated.” Even though Nicko had divorced her, neither of them remarried, and Helen hoped that some day he would change.

“He insisted, and I didn’t know then, but something told me inside that it was important, so I invited him in.” She lowered her head slightly and looked away, seeking the next words.

“He said that your grandmother came to him….” She began to cry softly even as she spoke; haltingly but clear. Melina gasped at the mention of her grandmother; a woman who so moved everyone with love that Melina chose to become her grandmother’s namesake.

“He couldn’t say…a dream? A ghost? From heaven? She spoke to him and told him….” Helen turned and put her head on Mina’s shoulder. Kallie reached across and grabbed Helen’s hand and squeezed.

“What he told me….what he told Helen? My mother spoke to him and told him to let go. My father was a very cruel man and my brother never wanted to be like him, but it was the only model he had. He worked with our father from the time he was twelve. Every day except Sunday, and he became just like our dad. But when I talked to him…. And I guess when your mom saw him…. He had changed. It was like…” Kallie paused and bit her lip. Better late than never is a very clever phrase; especially if one ignores what transpired before change takes place. But Kallie took solace in the fact that change did take place.

“Your dad…my brother grew up like a bent tree; twisted and misshaped. I closed my eyes when…. I knew when he called me that something was different….and then he was gone. I’m sorry.” She put her hand to her face and wept; some for the sheer waste of time and loss of connection, but mostly because even if Nicko acted as if he hated his sister, Kallie never stopped loving her brother. She wiped her eyes with her blouse sleeve and continued; a smile beginning to break through the grief.

“I closed my eyes…I knew he was gone, you know? And a peace came over me. That vision of a twisted tree? It was almost like black and white like an old movie. The tree was twisted and black and grey and so sad looking.” Kallie’s smile grew and she blinked back more tears, but her sigh was one of content relief.

“At the top of the tree there was a bit of green and a yellow….” Another sigh. Melina gasped; remembering that her namesake’s favorite color was yellow.

“A little flower all the way at the top. It was like the good that was in him finally was…” Kallie shook her head; understanding and accepting are okay in their way, but don’t necessarily remove the pain that preceded them.

“He wanted so much to please his father that he forgot that he wanted so much to be like your grandmother,” Mina said as she rubbed Kallie’s back. Helen nodded.

“When I saw him, he told me the same story. I almost knew it was near the end for him. We talked for hours. About how much he wanted to say to you all.” Helen looked at each of her children in turn. Chris had his head down and tears poured off his face.

“He was so proud of you, Chris. He never found the words to tell any of you.” She looked at her daughter-in-law Nonee and half-frowned as if the rejection the girl had felt was Helen’s fault instead of her husband’s. Nonee nodded and half-smiled; her brown complexion grew red and warm as Helen continued.

“His father was so angry and so hateful that he passed along his ignorance to Nicko, and you and Chris and the baby bore the brunt of that. I am so sorry it took so long for him to realize how wrong he was, but he was so sorry at the… at the end.” Nonee smiled; almost a polite gesture but for the warmth in her eyes; like so many in the Marcos family, the young woman had learned quickly to forgive for her family’s benefit.

“And Nick? I’m sorry… I thought he had more time. He wanted to say how proud he was of you.” Helen put her head down in shame as if it had been her decision instead of Nicko’s to forestall any praise; she certainly did her best to counter the effects of her husband’s lack with his children.

“He was so proud of you. I’m sorry, moro mou…” Even as the first-born, there was something that endured between mother and son as her baby. Nick shook his head; not in disagreement but instead in sad disappointment over the gulf between father and son that only narrowed at the end of his father’s life. That bittersweet realization that love truly had returned if only for the small measure of a heart-beat. Helen mirrored her son’s posture and began to weep.

“Mel?” Kallie sniffled once and spoke again.

“When your Dad and I talked…. He kept saying that our mother wanted him to remember your name…that you honored her more than he ever did.” Kallie paused as Melanie gasped; embarrassed over her father’s shame, but Kallie put her hand up in encouraging caution.

“He said he knew that she was right. But that he wanted to make everything better. I wish I had more to give you than this, but he said he was wrong and that he was sorry.” Kallie shook her head at the helpless feeling of being unable to make things better; that only Nicko could have done that and he fell short of the goal. But Melina smiled through her own tears.

“I remember…the only time he ever said he was sorry to me. I had some little play I was in when I was in fourth grade and he was supposed to come, but he got busy at the diner….he always got too busy.” She paused; not wanting to be harsh in a soft moment.

“He got home late and came into our room…Chris and me, you remember?” She looked over at her brother and smiled. He lifted his head and nodded but gasped at the sadness; bittersweet once again.

“He knelt down next to my bed and kissed me on the forehead. He had tears in his eyes and he said, ‘I’m sorry.’ Nothing else, but I knew he was sorry. And I know now….I never forgot that, and I can hear his voice, you know….” She spoke haltingly but after a pause she continued even as the tears poured from her face. Stephanie held her hand and rubbed her arm in encouragement.

“I’m so proud of you,” her partner whispered as Melina continued.

“Daddy? Wherever you are, I know…..I know, Daddy and I love you.”

---

 
The following evening

The well-wishers had begun to say their good-bye condolences; likely repeated over and over at the funeral the next morning. A few folks stood by Helen and Nick as Chris and Nonee thanked the guests as they departed. Melanie looked around anxiously. The final evening before the funeral and Mina and Kallie hadn’t arrived.

“I don’t understand. They haven’t called, and no one has heard from Pete.” The second oldest hadn’t called or communicated in quite some time, and it was not a complete surprise. He had immersed himself in his career in the military; another example of the overcompensation by all the Macros children to please their father. It was a tradition passed from generation to generation going back to God only knows when; ineffective and wasteful though it was, it was all theirs.

“I got a text on my cell just now,” Stephanie said loud enough to gain everyone’s attention.

“Aunt Kallie and Aunt Mina are on their way. Something about getting stuck at the airport?” Stephanie tried not to smile. They had talked with her the previous evening about their plans; asking her to keep secret what they had intended. And like the caring spouse she was, she wanted to make sure the surprise they held would be the blessing they had intended for all, but especially for Melina. A few minutes later the front door opened and Mina walked in; followed closely by Kallie and a familiar face.

“I’m sorry we’re late, but there was a delay in the flight,” Kallie said with a wry grin as her gaze went back and forth between the family and the woman beside her.

“Hi,” the woman said meekly. Nick stared at the woman and a look of recognition crossed his face. One by one, each family member realized who the woman was as smiles and confusion melded happily. The woman walked up to Melina and pulled her into an awkward hug and spoke softly.

“I’m sorry for coming to the party so late.” She stepped back and Melina tilted her head sideways just a bit with a growing smile.

“Pete?”

“It’s Aspasia now. I’m sorry for not communicating but I only recently realized who I am. No..." She paused, looking almost angry with herself.

"I've always known, but I never had any courage to be who I am. But I do now; mostly because of the example of two fine women,” she said with a broad smile. Melina looked at her in question.

“I met someone a short while ago. She had served with honor before her change, but now serves with honor as an example to women like us. A lady of valor, some have said with great wisdom. But mostly because of the example of one of the bravest women I know….” Her voice trailed off even as the words came haltingly through happy tears. She put her head down.

“I should have told you long ago how I felt, but I was so ashamed. Daddy was so hard to please, and even two tours over there weren’t enough to please him. And all the while you faced your fears and did what you had to do despite the cost. It finally dawned on me that I could never please Daddy enough to satisfy him and all my efforts were at the expense of my own life and my love for my family. You gave me courage, Mel. Can you forgive me?” Aspasia Macros fell into her sister’s arms and wept. Melina patted her on the back and kissed her cheek.

“Nothing to forgive….shhh….shhhh.”

Stephanie stepped close and Aspasia looked at her and nodded. A quick plan pulled off by tenacious work on Stephanie’s part to reach out to the lost sheep of the fold, so to speak. She nodded back and leaned close to the embrace her spouse was sharing; grabbing her new sister’s hand and squeezing.

“Welcome home.”

And one by one, the family drew close and welcomed the newest member of the Macros family. Courage comes often not by the challenge we face, but rather with whom we face that challenge; the strength that is derived from being woven together like a three-strand cord as it says somewhere. We often fail to see the encouragement because our eyes focus instead on the obstacles we face. The one dissenting voice that outshouts the many calm strengthening voices which surround us.

But those voices also often prevail. The second chances we get when we embrace those who care and love and hold us dear.

Next: Susan’s Love

---

---

---

---

---

---

From Susan’s Chance

“I don’t care where you’ve been other than that it’s part of who you are. You need to know me…that it’s where you end up that counts. Not where you started from.” He said, echoing what his mother had said only days before.

“It doesn’t matter to you that I can’t have kids? That I can’t be the wife you deserve? The companion you need?” By now she struggled to speak, her voice choking at times.

“Of course it matters. Because it’s how things are! But it’s not the end all or even the beginning of what I want….like you said…what I need.”

“How can you say that? I’m nothing close to what you need!”

“Susan…let’s get one thing straight. You can’t tell me what I need. Only I get to say that. Not you, not my mother, God bless her. Me. And who I need is you! This is my chance, and I hope it is for you as well.” She shrugged her shoulders as if to say I’m not sure; she was entirely sure of him but was totally unsure about herself.

Jackie may have been brave before but right then and there he did the bravest thing he ever did and leaned over the table and kissed her; nothing as spectacular as he had ever expected, but a monumental moment for both of them. Two brave souls taking a risk like never before. She found herself unable to resist, and kissed him back. After a few moments they felt awkward and oddly not alone.

“Will you be ordering desert?” The waitress tried not to but laughed softly anyway as the rest of the diners applauded.

“Coffee?” Jackie asked with a smile. Susan put her hand on his face and felt his grin.

“Coffee sounds just fine," she sighed. "Just fine."

---

Chances are 'cause I wear a silly grin
The moment you come into view,
Chances are you think that I'm in love with you.
Just because my composure sort of slips
The moment that your lips meet mine,
Chances are you think my heart's your Valentine.

Paris France, Christmas Eve…three years later...

The song from the CD player seemed almost as if it mocked the young woman.

“I’m so sorry.” Susan was sitting upright on the edge of the bed; clothes that had only moment ago laid in a neat pile now were strewn on the floor by her feet. She put her hands to her face and began to weep.

“Don’t…Sue….please?” Jackie touched her arm and she pulled away before he had a chance to even grab her. She stood up, still weeping, but with head down and leaning against the tall armoire across from the large bed. Jackie hopped up and walked quickly to her. Only recently had he begun to set aside his prosthesis on occasion, but even if he had it, nothing in his power would be able to pull Susan back from the brink of shame and hopelessness.

It certainly didn’t seem like a honeymoon; especially when she had turned to him at the reception only the day before and shook her head. Was it a cruel joke she had played on her husband? She looked down at herself and shook her head in the same, sad manner as before; wondering just what she could do to get out of what promised to be a sham of a marriage. Even if Jackie was aware of her past, it still felt like fraud to her that she talked and walked correctly and wore the right clothes. But she didn’t have any idea when they got engaged that when they came together she would not have any feelings; her emotions had become overnight. And her body had seemed to shut down; bringing the honeymoon to an abrupt halt as she wept and cried and screamed in utter shame over her lack.

Jackie held his arm and stump apart, beckoning her to come to him. It had to be that way, since she had to be the one to decide, since he had decided long ago that he would never ever love a woman the way he loved Susan. Forgetting himself and her impairment, he gestured with his arms; as if to say, ‘come on!’

She heard the motion of his good arm and shook her head no and spoke.

“I think we shouldn’t…we….I’m so sorry.” She put her hands to her face once again; her body convulsing in sheer panic at her words; since even if she was convinced they shouldn’t be married that it wouldn’t break her heart. Jackie walked slowly to her and pulled her into a tentative embrace with his stump while patting her back with his hand.

“Maybe you’re right, Sue….just maybe you’re right….”

---

The apartment of Carlotta Perez, several days earlier…

Susan sat at the vanity in her friend’s bedroom. The girl behind her seemed almost merry as she combed through Susan’s hair; the soft hum of an old show tune about getting married in the morning escaped the girl’s lips.

“This is just the prelim, Sue…the main event starts at seven tomorrow. I just want you to look your best.” It was as nice and as odd a feeling that the girl conveyed; she couldn’t have been more ironic if she tried as Susan strained to ‘see’ how she might look. Long forgotten images of brides and even merely of pretty woman seemed to push and shove off the walls of her memory; elusive and hazy. It was a very long time between sight and the present moment, and she tried not to be too frustrated. It really was almost a sweet moment, in a way, since she was actually allowing herself the luxury of wanting to look pretty for Jackie on their wedding day.

“I’m so happy for you,” Carlotta said as she continued to comb through Susan’s hair; grown longer than ever. ‘Jackie likes long hair’ the impetus for the newer look; another irony.

“You’ve been just wonderful….” Susan’s voice trailed off. It was certainly another crying moment for her, but she held strong against the urge and smiled; albeit weakly. Carlotta kissed her on the cheek.

“How could I not be wonderful for my best friend,” she said as she brushed a lock off Susan’s forehead, kissing the girl in blessing before pulling back.

“If you look this good now….” She caught herself and the words’ imagine how you’ll look tomorrow went unsaid but for the silent mouthing of speculation. She leaned closer and kneaded Susan’s shoulders.

“Now we’re ready, okay.” Looking in the mirror, Carlotta saw a very nice if a bit petite Latina hovering over a very pretty bride-to-be. Susan would never envision that image; even in what she might retrieve in her mind’s eye. She felt unattractive in the midst of a relationship with a man who struggled mightily to convince her otherwise. He was honest if prudent and would always answer her unspoken question with ‘I think you’re beautiful.’ Jackie wasn’t blind to her perception or even the reality that she’d never look anything like a model or an actress, but she was much prettier than she could imagine and as beautiful a woman could ever be.

“He’s a very lucky man,” Carlotta said as she clipped back a stray lock with a burette.

“There….perfect!” Carlotta leaned closer, almost forgetting herself as she took in the image of the bride-to-be once again.

“You’re the best friend I could ever have,” Susan said, putting her hand on her shoulder over Carlotta’s wrist.

“And you’re mine, kid…” Carlotta squeezed Susan’s hand and pulled back slightly.

“Let’s get you dressed and off to the restaurant, okay?” She smiled and somehow it was the tone of her voice that conveyed that picture to Susan as she raised her head slightly and smiled back.

---

The home of Sophie Bonasera, later that evening…

“I’m…” Susan lowered her face; an image of ‘gazing’ at her feet. Sophie stepped closer and pulled the girl into a motherly hug.

“I know, Sue…. But it’s going to be okay?” How could ‘okay’ be a consolation on the eve of what would be the most wonderful day of any other girl’s life. She pulled the girl close and kissed her cheek and whispered softly.

“He loves you. You have to remember that, honey. He loves you with all his heart.” It was a good start, but her words fell a bit short, since Susan never doubted Jackie’s love. It was her own heart that was in question. Was she blinded by foolish hope? Was her life big enough to contain his? The doubts and fears of a lifetime seemed to press against her; holding her back in a way on the verge of acceptance. She shook her head slightly.

“I know, Mom….”

It felt odd even to allow herself that endearment. She had known Sophie for some time even before Jackie entered the picture, but it felt almost wrong to speak to the woman in such terms. Her own mother loved her after a fashion for the longest time; finally coming to grips that the boy she raised wasn’t a boy at all. Mild anger called out in disappointment for years over the afflictions her child had endured, only for her mother to see the one affliction wasn’t a curse to be fought but instead a challenge to overcome. And the other affliction wasn’t an affliction at all, but blessing to be cherished once she realized her child’s name was Susan instead of Danny.

“I think if your mother was here, she’d be holding you right now,” Sophie said. Susan thought of the final moments of her mother’s life and as hard as the first eighteen years together had been, it felt as if the last year made up for all the lack. She smiled and nodded, trying without success to keep from crying.

“Oh, honey, it’s going to be okay,” Sophie said as the girl sobbed in her arms. That word again…’okay.’ What normally might have conveyed merely adequate served as a sweet reminder that Susan’s life with her son would be a good thing for the girl. That assurance that goes beyond the word and brings life and peace to the uncertain.

“I know….It’s just so hard,” Susan said haltingly.

“Shhhh….shhhh….” Sophie stroked the girl’s hair and pulled her close; allowing her to rest in the love she had found for a young woman who rarely if ever had love for herself.

“It’s going to be okay….”

---

The present; Christmas Eve, Paris, France….

In the magic of moonlight,
When I sigh, "Hold me close, dear,"
Chances are you believe the stars
That fill the skies are in my eyes.

Susan lay back on the bed; a sea of bright colors and soft textures that went almost to waste for the moment. She stared with nearly sightless eyes at the ceiling; the soft, almost colorless blur of a fan filled what little vision that remained. Tears streamed down her temple and wet her ears as she sobbed softly.

“Honey….it’s okay.” Jackie practically pled with her. That word again. Okay? Acceptable? Adequate? Was she adequate? Authentic? Reasonable substitute?

“I….I’m so …..so sorry.” She turned her face toward his. They lay side by side; hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder, but she might just as well be an ocean away. Her heart was in two places at the same time. She loved him, but felt that old and familiar if completely erroneous feeling of her back-home insecurity instead of the restful newness of being a bride in a wonderfully exciting place. Apologies where coos and whispers and laughter should have been spoken. And all the guilt of being unable to coo and whisper and laugh as well. Jackie, as they say, would have none of that.

“I’ve changed my mind,” he said as he sat up and swung his feet over the bed side. Standing up he walked around and stood next to her side. She gasped in dread that what she feared had come to pass. He knelt down by her side and grabbed her left hand. Leaning closer, he began to roll the rings on her finger slightly; almost as if he was going to pull them off. Instead, he kissed the ring and her hand. Turning it over, he kissed her palm and wrist.

“Yes….I’ve changed my mind. I don’t think you’re right after all. You may have given up on us, but I’m not giving up on you.” It would have almost sounded like a rebuke but for the softness of tone and the halting words that accompanied his own tears; tears that spilled onto her wrist like a soft rain in Springtime.

“I love you.” Simple but to the point. He followed it up with a gentle kiss on her hand once again.

“But….”

“I told you long ago that you don’t get to tell me what’s best for me, right?” As he said it his hand urged her to sit up. He leaned close.

“But…” She protested even as her words were cut short by a kiss. He savored her tears as he kissed the odd, single dimple on her left cheek. He urged her with his hand to her feet, all the while kissing her as much as he could while walking her gently over to the open door to the balcony.

“It’s sunset….” He said, using his stump in a broad if awkward and unseen gesture.

“Purple…you remember…. Almost like….do you remember Noxema?” An odd question, but her past still rested silently in her memory, the good and the bad both. She nodded…

“And pink? Like a Crayola pink crayon?” It seemed almost patronizing as he evoked memories; not from the recent past of their relationship but to a time when her eyes saw and beheld and rejoiced as a child. She nodded again.

“Grey…you know that dull almost dirty white…like shirts that have been washed too many times? The moon is just beginning to show.” Another ‘visible’ reminder. She nodded. Her hand went to her face; a gesture of embarrassment that is quickly ebbing and replaced by relief. He kissed her cheek once again.

“It’s a beautiful sunset…like any you’ve ever seen.” She blinked back tears as she nodded once again; the imagination filling in the gaps between his words and her sightless vision.

“I love you.” He said as he pulled her close; kissing her lips once again. He pulled back slightly and spoke again.

“Can you remember the biggest smile you ever saw…of your own? The nicest surprise…the best Christmas? A birthday?” He kissed her face by her left eye; a small scar rubbed softly by his lips sent a shudder through her; almost distracting from the question. He pulled back and waited for her reply.

“The…the day….when you asked me to marry you? When I got home, I sat in the kitchen and I cried and cried. I felt so...ugly. But then I remembered your face as I ‘saw’ your love for me. My hands felt that love through your eyes and lips and even feeling the clench of your jaw. And I smiled… it was so strong that it felt like it almost hurt. Like nothing I could ever recall…..Yes…” She nodded, almost duplicating what she had just described.

“Touch my face?” An invitation. She raised her hand tentatively; almost like raising a gaze to nervously behold either acceptance or defeat. She placed her hand on his cheek. The smile lines were deep and long. The lips parted slightly and mouth urged off to one side only a bit. The tears flowing freely and with great joy as Jackie began to weep for his bride. She pulled her hand back away from his face; feeling like she was somehow intruding on something very personal. He reached up and gently placed her hand on his face once again.

“Please….don’t stop,” he stammered. Like a kiss, her touch was entirely personal, but without any intrusion. Her fingers kissed his face even as his lips kissed her other hand; treasuring what to some would have seen as second or even third best.

“I…love you, Susan… And with all my heart, I know you love me….that you’re the best for me and I am…I am the best for you. You deserve my love just as much as I know I deserve yours.” He spoke softly and guided her back to bed. The room was darker as the sunlight slowly waned, but the room was bright and alive with the brilliant colors of the love between the two.

He lowered her gently onto the bed; following after her as he lay down and pulled her onto him.

“I love you so much.” Two words that she never imagined would grace her life. She lowered herself and her lips found his. Kissing him gently she spoke haltingly; pauses coming not from uncertainty but spoken with unfamiliar but growing faith in the truth they conveyed.

“I know." she said as she settled into his arms; safe, secure, and entirely loved.

Guess you feel you'll always be
The one and only one for me
And, if you think you could,
Well, chances are your chances are awfully good.
The chances are, your chances are...awfully good.

Next: Allie’s Rebirth

---

Chances Are
Words and Music by
Al Stillman and
Robert Allen
as performed by
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7QAqkGHD4Q8

---

---

---

---

---

---

From Allie’s Chance

“So I have the two of you. I love you both dearly, but I can’t keep this up. I feel like I’m in a circus and I’m spinning pie plates….something starts to slow down and it all looks like everything is going to come crashing down. You need to talk…you love each other, so there’s nothing either of you can say that should make a difference. This is your chance!” She sighed, hoping she was reaching then both.

“No…he won’t…it won’t work. I’m sorry.” Alan sobbed. He went to get up but felt a hand grab his arm; an unexpected gentle tug instead of a cruel demanding yank pulled him back down. He turned and saw his father look at him for the first time with a measure of acceptance. Blake shook his head, not in denial but in sorrow and regret. He pulled the young man closer to him and touched his face, still unable to speak.

“Dad?” A one word question that was vague at first hearing, but the nod by the older man gave everyone hope that things would change.

---

Hunterdon County Democrat – Wednesday, June 13, 2018:
Blake and Bernice Russell of Flemington, New Jersey are proud to announce that their daughter, Alison Miriam Russell-Cannizaro of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, has been accepted into the Doctorate of Nursing Education Program at Drexel University. Ms. Russell-Cannizaro holds a Master’s Degree in Nursing Education and a Master’s Degree as a Nurse Practitioner. She is an adjunct professor at Drexel University. She and her Life-partner, Dr. Regina Russell-Cannizaro, PsyD, PhD, are employed by the Health and Wellness Center of Ardmore, Pennsylvania.

---

Ardmore, Pennsylvania, 2020…

“You get to those papers on your desk, sweetie?” Allie called out to Regina from the bathroom between face washing and teeth brushing, so to speak. Her voice sounded only a wee bit sudsy. Regina poked her head into the bathroom and smiled.

“On it right now. We still getting together after work with Andrea and Betty?” She looked out the window as if to ‘see’ the clinic down the street where they had met. If it hadn’t been for Betty, the two might never have connected, but it was Andrea who really pushed them once they met.

“Unless something comes up, but you’re not on call and I’m on vacation.” She giggled, since it was odd for Allie to be the one with time off, but it was really only for a few days. She leaned closer and rubbed her partner’s tummy, seeking some movement.

“Greg and Marsha seemed to be taking some time off as well. It’s more like them turning over and going back to sleep than any kicking the past few hours.” She shuddered.

“Oh, don’t….honey? They’re okay. They just seem to respond to my voice with a little more…” She paused and pulled her hand away, raising it up as if to get attention.

“See….they waltz for you and cha cha for me.” She patted Regina’s tummy once again before lifting her hand to touch her partner’s face.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” A stock if well-intended question. Regina nodded and kissed Allie’s cheek.

“Every day in every way….I love you too!” She grabbed the bottle of Scope and took a swig.

“Ewwwww….orange juice and mouthwash….ewwww.” She spat the liquid in the sink, just missing Allie’s pajama top.

“Gotta run.” She kissed Allie once more and hurried down the hallway.

“Love you!” she called before running out the doorway. Allie cocked her head and listened. Hearing the car drive off, she walked back to the bedroom where she closed the door, and opened the closet. Never one for dressing up, it was a rare if odd and completely understandable occasion. Pulling off her pajamas, she grabbed an outfit hanging on the back of the closet door. She padded on the thick carpet over to Regina’s dresser. Pulling out some items, she proceeded to get dressed for the day; the moment, actually.

“Not bad,” she sighed. She closed the closet door and looked at herself in the mirror. Standing across from her was a woman who very strongly resembled her, but with one decided difference. While it was merely a throw pillow, the bump in her outfit gave her the appearance of a woman who was ‘great with child,’ as her grandmother might have said. She turned slightly and viewed herself in profile, with her hands placed on her tummy. It was really meant to be a way of connecting; she wanted so much to be a part of what Regina was experiencing.

And of course, they had made careful plans that allowed for her ‘pre-change’ condition to bring their hopes for children to fruition. But in spite of that connection, there was something deep inside, perhaps, that Allie missed. No womb meant no birth on her part. And as silly as that might sound to some, considering the blessing they were about to enjoy, she began to cry softly. Incomplete, some might say.
And inauthentic, Allie would say all too frequently, despite reassurances by Regina. She was so ‘into’ her grief that she didn’t hear the bedroom door open. Regina stood there, almost incredulous but for the tears in her own eyes.

“You’ll make a great mom, honey.” Regina said. Allie turned; her face grew beet red and she shook her head.

“This isn’t…I’m sorry…I…” She stammered. Regina stepped closer and drew her partner into a warm hug; faux and authentic baby bumps coming together softly. Allie kept shaking her head, and by then was unable to speak but for saying ‘I’m sorry’ over and over. Regina stroked her hair and kissed her cheeks; oddly savoring the salt of Allie’s tears, which were dear to her. She kissed her again and spoke.

“It’s alright, Allie….it’s alright.”

---

Regina lay next to Allie; her hand had found its way into Allie’s mess of bed-hair and her fingers were happily entwined with a large curl that draped over Allie’s temple. She played with the tress and cooed wordlessly in Allie’s ear; the soft breath sending a chill at the back of Allie’s neck.

“Mmmmmm,” Regina purred. Allie starred awkwardly at the wall as she found herself unable to escape Regina’s attention. She rolled over further; the tangle of hair pulled Regina with her and she found herself under her spouse; uncomfortable and unworthy in a way.

“Mmmmm.” Another coo. As serene as Regina sounded, her voice was almost a counterpoint to the silent tears streaming down Allie’s face. Guilt had joined with the other feelings to accuse her.

“Why….” So many questions remained in a life outsiders would have determined was as complete as for what anyone in their right mind could hope. But nothing truly is settled as long as we draw a breath. Should haves and could haves often visit us and push us back to doorways and windows that were never opened or had been closed. Allie thought of another time years ago….

“Do you know how much I love you?” The young man said hastily even as he looked over his shoulder. An alcove in an abandoned hotel cum makeshift hospital could only provide so much cover. Jimmy Taliaferro was as brave as anyone you might meet, but he feared being discovered; his own misplaced guilt over rules and regulations that held fast and cruelly told him and Alan that they could never be as long as they continued to serve with honor. Ironic.

“Shhhhh…. Jimmy?” Alan protested even as Jimmy leaned closer and kissed him…. Kissed him? It wasn’t settled as far as don’t ask, don’t tell was concerned, but as far as Jimmy was concerned, it was Allison he kissed even if the girl still wore her male mufti. And as soon as they reached their departure from the military, all would be set right. He touched Allie’s cheek, evoking a wince.

“Stop….I …. I don’t….”

“What? Don’t want? Don’t know? Dear god, Allie! Stop it. Everybody is downstairs and no one can hear us.” Jimmy glanced past the broken elevator to the stairwell leading below. The top floor was only used for temporary storage and they had at least a few minutes peace but for the intrusive guilt and shame they both fought. Jimmy’s guilt was borne of his worry for his lover and her safety in the midst of a world that still held her life to be wrong. He feared discovery would lead to more hurt and more shame and more days of waiting for the world to change.

Allie, on the other hand, felt ashamed and guilty merely for wanting to be something closer at least o what she thought she was. That in itself was a huge part of her problem. While the United States of America in general and Military Code of Justice in specific might deny what she was, her creator had already determined before her birth who she would become. It just wouldn’t and couldn’t happen while she wore the uniform that bore ‘his’ name.

“I can’t stop,” Jimmy laughed softly. Compelled? Urged? No…obligated to love the woman who stood nervously just out of eyesight from the threatening stairwell. He couldn’t deny he loved her, and he made every effort to affirm her whenever he could.

“Jimmy….NO….” Allie protested. It was so hard to keep calm and composed. Tears flowed regularly for all of the men and women who sought to repair with steady hands what war had torn asunder; too often without success and too sadly with little ones who would never see life beyond their brief stay on earth. But tears for herself were too shameful and selfish. And too selfish to risk exposure for Jimmy’s sake. She didn’t deserve his love if it meant him being hurt. She just couldn’t understand because she ever believed she was worth any sacrifice. But Jimmy kept trying.

“Allie? Yes…. Nobody here but me and the future Mrs. Taliaferro!” It felt odd for both of them since it was only a dream that they had for Alan’s departure of sorts once they returned home. The form of Alan Russell may have stood just out of view in the alcove but it was Allie Russell whom Jimmy held. He leaned closer; lifting the shaking girl’s chin in a soft caress before bestowing a good night kiss.

“We’ll get together after the shift; I can’t wait to get home, Babe.”

“You don’t have to… “ Allie hesitated. She looked over to the stairwell as if they would be interrupted at any second. Jimmy pulled back and half frowned.

"Cappy heard from her husband; their ten year old got hit by a car...she's out of here first thing tomorrow."

"Oh, come on, Jimmy. Why you? Can't someone else do it?"

Jimmy shrugged his shoulders; a quick glance at his watch followed by another kiss, but just a see-you-later peck on the cheek.

“I’ll be back in the morning, Al….” He paused. Back to the non-descript and non-specific; the double-clutch of trying to manage life with a best friend which everyone would expect and love of a woman nobody knew. Allie’s hand held as long as she could until Jimmy pulled away and ran down the stairs. Allie sighed and put her hand to her face. Too much to hide and too much to deny, she started crying again. If anyone asked, she could just say it was the sight of the little girl that evening in her father’s arms or maybe the E-6 who left a wife and three kids.

But life has a way of sorting itself out; half-truths sadly becoming all too real. The next morning didn’t greet excitement and hope for a bright future. That night; only forty minutes after they parted, Jimmy Taliaferro was struck by a Hummer driven by a man who had just enough to drink to cause inattention after a very long day, and before Allie Russell ever had the chance to stand before God and Man as Mrs. Taliaferro, she was left a widow with a very huge and fearfully irreparable hole in her heart....

“I….” Allie went to protest as Regina climbed on top and began kissing her. The roundness of her tummy felt odd and comforting and sad all at once as Allie turned her face away.

“You’re a parent, Al….” Regina said as she pulled Allie’s face back. No one ever called her Al. Her parents always called her Alan and then Allison or Allie. Only the lover from her past. The husband she should have had. And the feelings of betrayal and disloyalty over a memory that was slowly fading; more guilty and shame just for enjoying what life had brought to her in the woman who sought to comfort.

“You know you’re a mother, right?” Regina said; almost playful but for a near-serious look. She kissed Allie’s nose.

“NO…I’m not. I’m….. I’m nothing. I’m not a father…not a mother. Dear God, Reg….I’m not even a woman.” She went to get out from under Regina but the woman would have nothing of that. She pinned Allie’s arms against her breast and leaned closer; a look crossed her face that shouted ‘this is for you own good.’

“You are my wife and I am your wife and we are going to be mothers to the child you gave to me to bear. I don’t care what came before this moment so long as you understand that this is what was intended for us all along. Not the past…. Not any other person.” A look of hurt and confusion grew as Allie began to cry without words. Regina shook her head.

“I’m sorry Jimmy got killed, Al….but what do you think he would say if he saw you now? Aren’t you exactly who both of you dreamed? Aren’t you the woman he loved?” Regina put her head on Allie’s chest and began to sob. For the two of them. For a man she had never met. For the child in her womb. Allie pulled her hand from Regina’s grasp and touched her cheek.

“I know he loved you, Al….” Regina spoke haltingly as her sobbing ebbed. That name again. What would have been almost a cruel invective from anyone echoed the blessing it had been years before. She wasn’t replacing Jimmy; Regina Marie Russell-Cannizaro had succeeded her predecessor. His shoes weren’t too big to fill since no one was ever intended to fill them. She followed in the path he had started alongside Allie; continuing where he left off.

“I’ve been…. I wanted to ask you….” Regina said; her hesitation from hope rather than fear. She looked into Allie’s eyes and saw a growing peace that couldn’t have come from her words alone. Somewhere else in time and space a soft tenor had joined her alto to sing to the woman in her arms. A blessing that became apparent as Allie began to smile even as her own crying subsided.

“Yes?” Allie almost whispered; only a small bit of apprehension mixed a great deal of hope of her own.

“Since the little ones are going to be coming soon, I think it’s time we settled on a name, okay?” Regina lowered her gaze slightly in apology. Now it was Allie’s turn to coax and encourage. She reached up and pulled Regina into a kiss. First on the lips; softly and tentatively. Then on the cheek just in front of Regina’s right ear.

“I….the girl should be named for your Nana. Julianna? Would that be okay?” Allie kissed her cheek again.

“Yes….that would be wonderful. May…May I ….” She smiled with an odd almost elfin grin. Allie tilted her head slightly and squinted in suspicious if happy anticipation. Regina nodded and her smile grew wider. She looked away as her tears welled once again in loving eyes before she spoke.

“Our little boy? I can’t imagine a better name…..” Allie shook her head ‘no;’ that denial that speaks of the too wonderful to be true feeling we all have at the best times. Regina nodded even as her tears spilled onto Allie’s cheek. She smiled once more and spoke one word.

“Jimmy?” Allie began to sob; release from the past to accept the blessing of the present and hope for the future. Regina fell into Allie’s arms and the two wept tears of sadness and joy. A few minutes later Regina lay on her side. Allie’s head was resting on a pillow wedged against Regina’ body; both still crying as Allie’s tears cascaded down the large refuge that enveloped their babies. Regina stroked her hair and resumed the cooing that had begun the night as they drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

Next: Helen's Hope

---

---

---

---

---

---

From Helen’s Chance

“It’s….I hate myself. I’ll never be what Daddy wanted me to be. I’m not a hero….I don’t even know what I am.” She sobbed into Sandy’s sweater. The woman pushed her back just a bit so they could see eye to eye.

“You can never be what anyone wants you to be, honey. You can only be who you are. I know that your father was a very brave and a very good man, and I’ll never replace him. But neither will you. He was just a man; a good man, yes, but just a man, sweetheart. Jimmy is not like his bio father at all, and is a pretty good young man, but not much like his dad. But I still love him. And your mom loves you. And from what I know of Aldo?

Your dad would love Helen if he got the chance to meet her. If you two had the chance to know each other? Well? You and me and your mom and Jimmy? We all have a chance to be a family, and I think that’s a good thing, don’t you?” Helen looked at Sandy and saw the same accepting expression his mother showed her every day. She nodded.

“Now, since we are all going to be a family, and since dinner is a very nice but very reheatable Chicken Meniure, why don’t we sit here for a few minutes and maybe relax before we get you ready.” She pulled her close and kissed her on the cheek. The girl pulled away slightly.

“Ready?” She bit her lip slightly and wiped her face with her sleeve.

“I’m sure Helen has some clothes to wear, right? We need to get you ready so Jimmy can meet his new sister, right?” She beamed with an acceptance that only a mother, step or otherwise, can have for her child. Helen nodded before looking over at her closet. She turned back and the two put their heads together and giggled like school girls and exactly like they'd known each other all along.

---

Exotic Thai Restaurant, Davenport, Iowa, Christmas Eve…several years later...

As much as Helen enjoyed her time as chef, finally owning and running the restaurant gave even more purpose to her; as if she didn’t have enough with degrees in Psychology and Social work to back up her cooking. She smiled as her manager handed her a copy of the new menu. Traditional Thai and Vietnamese, which had been less of a challenge than she expected when she first started, but now with a great new Chef de Cuisine, she could concentrate on other aspects of the restaurant. Nom was more than personable and probably even more capable as a chef than Helen ever hoped to be. She didn’t mind, since she had learned very early on with the help of a great mother and terrific step-mom that nothing would hold her back if she had faith.

She nodded and handed the menu back to Liu and pointed at the top.

“Green for the font for the restaurant, but everything else is just great.” She pulled the older woman in for a congratulatory hug. Liu smiled and nodded back before gathering the menu and some other papers.

“I’ll send this to the printers today.” With that she went to walk out, but two men were standing silently and almost patiently at the doorway of the dining area. She bowed her head slightly and smiled; causing the men to step further apart, allowing her to exit. The taller of the two men was an African-American; a vaguely familiar acquaintance to Helen, even if she did recognize the clothing. Blue with a silver bird on the shoulder. The other man was entirely familiar; he wore a gold-looking oak leaf on his shoulder and a grim expression on his face, which was puffy and red. Helen stared blankly at the second man, hoping it was all a mistake.

“Helen….There…there’s been an accident.” He struggled with the last word before putting his hand to his mouth to choke back a sob. The other man stepped forward and placed his hand on the younger man’s shoulder in reassurance over something that could never receive any assurance whatsoever. She tilted her head slightly and her eyes widened as she shook her head no.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am. I am so, so sorry.” The older of the two knew Jimmy Nichols as his instructor in flight school. The younger man, Maj. Jensen Davis had been….had? Tony and he had been best friends. And Lt. Colonel Louis Washington just shook his head; putting his hand once again on the younger man’s shoulder to steady him. And Helen trembled only slightly before she collapsed into the booth where she had stood, fainting dead away.

---

Helen’s apartment, Davenport, Iowa…some time later...

The few remaining boxes sat next to the front door. Precious memories and unfulfilled dreams carefully wrapped and packed for what was planned for a brief storage. Helen stood by the front window, gazing across the street at the park. She sighed at the sight of a mother watching her little girl kicking high on the swing. Sandy walked in the front door and put her hand on Helen’s shoulder and squeezed.

“You won’t change your mind?” Sandy knew the answer, but still wanted her daughter-in-law to know she cared enough to ask.

“I …. I need a change,” Helen turned and recalled the recently packed pictures from the mantel; vistas and home life and faces from a time only recently removed. To say Jimmy’s smile was infectious would have sold him short in a way, but nothing in that toothy grin would do anything now. He was handsome and sweet and kind and precious; the love of her life was gone. Since Rita’s passing, Sandy had become a close friend to her daughter in law, and as close to Helen as her mother had been. A double blessing. But Sandy had so little strength herself with Jimmy’s death. Still, she tried.

“Change… I guess it’s something good. I’m going to miss you,” Sandy said. It was like just another death in the family as Helen prepared for her move.

“It’s not forever….” She still struggled with speaking the endearment, but Sandy knew that she would always be “Momma;” their way of giving both her and Rita that honor after the two married. And it was still a way she could hold onto Jimmy after his death by keeping that connection between her and Sandy.

“But this…. This was your hope, Helen…” Sandy stared out the window as if the restaurant was right there. Perhaps staying in Iowa could still be a chance but the papers all had been signed and the restaurant was now the dream of a middle-aged couple from Amana.

“I just need some time where I can figure out …. I haven’t been just me forever. I grew up almost without a chance of being me, and Jimmy and me…. we were like one person. I’m ….I hate being alone but I have to figure out what that means… who I am in all of this.

“You’re who you’ve always been, honey. Remember that …. No matter how you started, you’ve always been Helen, right? Your Mom and I …we…I…” Sandy began to weep at the thought. Rita had been taken from them all by the selfish choice of a drunk driver. Tragic at best; even after five years, but then to lose her son? But didn’t Helen enjoy that horrible sameness. Losing her mother and her husband.

“I….I promise I’ll be back.” She hugged Sandy and turned to walk away but stopped.

“You…you helped me see who I was….that it was just right, Momma.” There. She had said it. Sandy raced to her side and pulled her into a hug.

“I was so scared then…even to be me with my Mom….but you helped me then by giving me hope. And I’m scared now, but I have hope that somehow it will all work out. It hurts so bad, Momma…..Oh god I miss them but…:

“I know, honey. I loved my son, but it feels like I miss Rita more…and I feel so guilty.” She looked at Helen for some sort of forgiveness. The girl shook her head, but not in denial, but instead in anxious agreement.

“It feels like it will never be the same, Momma. Why can’t it be the same?” They held each other and continued to cry. It indeed would never be the same. But often hope comes not in what is retrieved or preserved, but rather in what remains or what might come.

---

Portland City Grill, Portland, Oregon, about two years later….

“Helen? You okay? You seem a bit distracted,” the petite woman sidled up to Helen and gave her a hug. Helen winced. Being the daytime manager was challenging enough, but Lelani Soriano was aware of the moment. An anniversary no bride should ever have to commemorate.

“Oh, honey….I am so sorry,” Lelani half-frowned as Helen shook her head.

“It’s today, isn’t it?” Helen nodded. Her eyes were only a bit red, and she smiled weakly and nodded.

“Come sit down. Evening shift starts in a few and it’s really slow right now.” The kind woman ushered Helen to a table at the back near the kitchen. She kissed Helen’s cheek and walked over to the drink station. A few moments later she had returned with two cups of coffee. She placed a cup in front of Helen and sat down facing her.

“I’m doing better than I thought I would. I guess… I’m so sorry,” she spoke the words at Lelani, but they were intended for another.

“Oh, honey….” Lelani reached over and held Helen’s left hand in hers; fingering the wedding ring that remained on Helen’s hand.

“He knows….you can’t help how you feel. And he knows you miss him more than anything. From what you told me he would understand...really, honey.”

Lelani’s words, as needful and kind as they were, did nothing to stem the tears that began to pour down Helen’s cheeks. From guilt over a lack of emotion to an almost inescapable feeling of being out of control. Lelani looked around the near-empty dining room. Apart from a couple of young women at the front of the restaurant, the only company they had were the other servers and the new sous-chef. Lelani got up and walked around the table. Sitting down next to Helen, she pulled her into a motherly hug; stroking her hair.

“I should have…I forgot, Nanay…. How could I forget?” Grief is hard enough to bear under the best of circumstances, but with everything else going on in Helen’s life, the last thing she needed to feel was guilt.

“He knows, babae, he knows.”

“But what about….”

“What about what?” A voice came from over her shoulder. Vilma Soriano stood next to her mother and placed her hand lightly on Helen’s shoulder.

“Nanay is right, sinta…. “She nodded at her mother and continued.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of. I will never be able to….” Helen looked up at Vilma and nodded slowly; not at the thought of replacing Jimmy, but of knowing Vilma would understand how she needed to stay connected to Jimmy’s memory while moving on. Vilma smiled and continued.

“You take as much time as you need….forever even, if that’s the way it will be, but I’m here for you whenever you’re ready. God bless Jimmy Nichols, sinta….” Vilma kissed her on the cheek and walked away quickly.

“Nanay? I’m so sorry….I had hoped…maybe it’s too soon? ” She apologized for something entirely unintentional, as if she had invited grief to hang on and interrupt her life. Lelani just continued to stroke her hair.

“Shhh….shhhh…..” The older woman whispered even as she looked back over her shoulder in time to see her daughter wave. As kind and unobtrusive as Vilma wished to be, she was not going to give up on Helen, no matter what or who might stand between them. If grief was willing to hang around, Vilma was willing to be even more patient; that idea that patience really means ‘far from anger.’ She wasn’t angry at all but sad instead for the hurt that Helen bore.

---

Helen’s place, Grace Apartments, Portland….

Helen hadn’t even made it to bed after work, and had fallen asleep on the couch. The soft, toned-down strains of Lara Fabian came from the tablet next to her head; the only other sound being the soothing purr of the small cat who mimicked Helen’s sleep with her own.

“Helen?” A voice spoke; the whisper still seemed to cut through ever other sound. And another voice.

“Honey?” Helen sat up enough to prop herself with her right elbow. Two figures seemed to fill her vision though no one was there. She heard the voices; joined almost as one repeat her name. She shook her head.

“Jimmy?” She heard no other sound other than the purr from the cat; louder still than moments before.

“Mommy?” Instead of a voice, she almost felt their presence, though she still saw nothing. But in a moment, a peace she had sought for so long, even from many years before, filled her heart, and while she heard no other words, she still heard two words in her heart; spoken in unison in a visitation, perhaps, but really in a dream of her own making and need....and hope.

“It’s time.”

---

Two years later…Portland State University….

“I’m so proud of you!” Sandy leaned closer and kissed her daughter –in-law on the cheek. She was soon joined by two petite Filipinas. Lelani Soriano beamed with pride over the woman who stood tall; cap and gown and honors and awards aside, she was proud of Helen for so many more reasons but mostly for one great one. She hugged both Sandy and Helen as her hand reached out to pull her daughter close. Vilma Soriano stepped up to the three women and as much as she could, embraced them all. A moment later she held Helen in her arms; echoing what was said only moments before.

“I’m so proud of you!” Helen looked at her and smiled.

“Are…are you glad you waited?” Helen said nervously. Vilma smiled through tears and nodded, using her gaze to indicate two rings on her left hand.

“I certainly am, Dr. Nichols…. I certainly am!”

Next: Lauren's Calling

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

From Lauren’s Chance

“I know about cutting, honey,” he said softly. “We’re talking about the scar across your wrist. None of that…you’re much too important. “She shook her head in disagreement before Melanie grabbed her hand and patted it.

“Trust me on this, kid. Jimmy Muldoon doesn’t care about anything more than the Eagles and one other thing, and that’s kids. You listen to him, okay. We care about you, and we’re gonna see this through with you. When I was your age, I had someone just as special as Jimmy say the same thing, and I’m here today because of her. Listen to us….okay?”

Thankfully, for once in the girl’s brief life, being exhausted and stretched beyond her means was actually a good thing, and she relented, pulling Melanie close as she laid her head on Melanie’s arm and wept.

---

Norfolk, Virginia, week of July Fourth…years later…

“Who thinks it’s a good idea to hurt girls?” Lauren lowered her head slightly. The question always invited more than a variety of answers; some of them quite profane and very telling. One boy raised his hand timidly but was ignored in effect by the loud shouts from the other boys in the group.

“'Depends on who’s doin’ the hurtin’,” one boy laughed and fist-bumped the kid next to him. Another placed his hand on his crotch and gyrated slightly in his seat. Mr. Rollo rolled up the notes in his hand and swatted the boy in the back of the head.

“Okay.” Lauren took a deep breath. Twelve year old boys had no business being stuck in a treatment facility, much less juvie, but behavior dictates how we are received, and these boys were as incorrigible as they came; not the marginally bratty ‘incorrigible’ of the von Trapp boy in the Sound of Music, but mean and unforgiving and downright dangerous on occasion.

“Any of you have a sister?” Several boys raised their hands; almost looking proud of something other than their own existence.

“You have Aunties?” Nods and more hands. The boy on the side still hadn’t lowered his hand, but just waved it from side to side.

“What about you, Theus? You have an Aunt?” The boy nodded.

“And Moms? I know some of you don’t have Moms, and I’m sorry, but some of you do, right?” Rollo leaned back and smiled and nodded; he knew where Lauren was going with this.

“Yeah” and “Fuck, yeah!” It didn’t matter, like some might expect, which neighborhood they called home. No matter what color or what language. All of the boys were hardened for the most part beyond their tender years. No baseball or football in middle school. No skateboarding or video games save for the six-year-old Playstation in the unit lounge. Even that was a sad testimony as it was surrounded by clear Plexiglas for protection. The shouts died down.

“Well, we have boys who have girls in their lives, Mr. Rollo.” Several of them looked at her like she had two heads, as the old saying goes. Rollo suppressed a laugh.

“Okay, guys. This is easy. How many of you would get pissed off if someone hurt your sister or your Auntie or your Mom?”

“I’d kill the motherfucker!” Winston said it sullenly, unlike his usual boisterous bravado. An underlying and ever-present current of anger seemed to move him along daily. This wasn’t his usual self talking, but a boy hurt by countless disappointments and harm.

“Fuck that. I’d kill em’ and use magic to bring em’ back to life….” Danny looked around and paused for effect.

“Then I’d kill em’ again.”

“What the fuck? There’s no such thing as magic,” one boy said; evoking a punch in the arm from the kid next to him.

“So….it’s okay for you to hurt girls, but it’s not okay for anyone else, right?”

“Hell, yeah.”

“What does that mean, guys? What am I asking you?” They knew she knew, and they all resisted the temptation to laugh and joke about how she didn’t know what she was doing.

“I don’t give a fuck!” Winston turned his face to the wall and closed his eyes. Usually the one to shout out obscenities that would make a sailor blush, he just tuned everything out and in moments appeared to be sleeping.

“Miss Lauren?” The boy who had been holding his hand up waved it slightly; his voice, as slight as it was, carried across the lounge when the group calmed down.

“Yes, Davey?” She leaned forward to focus.

“Man…shut the fuck up,” another boy shouted, earning a swat in the head from Rollo. He glared at the boy and he slumped in his chair and quieted down. Davey spoke.

“I think it means like when you know how someone else feels.”

“Dude, would you just shut the fuck up?” Winston murmured from his nap.

“That’s right. We want to be respected and to have our friends and family okay, but what does it say if we can’t do the same thing for others?” Rollo looked over the group. Other than Winston and the boy who slumped in his chair in a sullen pout, all the other boys….seven of them…stared at Lauren in wide-eyed recognition. It was a daunting task to reach the boys. And these were the ones with promise. Picked specifically for the unit because they had some glimmer of empathy lying underneath the angry surface.

“Yeah…” and “Oh shit…yeah, I guess.” A tallish woman appeared in the doorway.

“Hi, Miss Tanika!” Lauren said.

“Miss Martina is ready for them in the gym,” she said, causing most of the boys to jump up from their slouches.

“Hold it!”

She stood in the lounge doorway. “Everybody out in line and no poking or hitting, okay? I’ll stay here with Davey and Winston and Mr. Rollo will take you guys over.” The boys did as much as they could to obey the instructions; only a bit of poking and no hitting at all. Winston looked up and shook his head. Most of the time a unit restriction would have brought angry outbursts. He was improving, however slowly. Davey’s behavior hadn’t been sudden and acute, but he was consistently failing to follow the simplest of directions without argument or downright refusal. He rose slowly and walked over, sitting next to Lauren as the other boys walked off the unit to gym.

“Miss Lauren?” His voice, even in a near empty room, seemed to be almost a whisper. She turned and faced him, noting that he was staring at her. While boys of that age might think staring was flattery, and that Davey might be just such a boy, Lauren noticed an almost fear in the boys eyes.

“Yes, Davey?” He lowered his head at her words; appearing ashamed of a mere question, but he continued, much like someone might run through a small fire to get out of a burning house. He lifted his face once again and she was sure there was more than just fear; that hopeless look she had seen countless times since she started working with kids. He bit his lip and spoke.

“Miss Lauren….I got….can we talk?” She nodded and rose.

“Let’s go to my office, okay?” The boy’s fear seemed to abate and grow at the same time; talking about things can do that to a child. He swallowed hard and walked out into the hallway, not waiting for her. She stepped out of the lounge and watched him as he went down the hall; looking all the world like a dead boy walking.

---

“Oh, gosh, Davey, we can’t go in my office with two of you on the unit.” Lauren looked around and Tanika waved.

“We’ll take Winston with us, Miss Lauren. Mr. Paul said he’s off restriction.” She paused and turned toward the boy.

“You’re gonna do what Miss Melanie says or there’s no outing for you tonight.” The boy glared at her but his frown was quickly replaced by a smile; his compliance perhaps a bit contrived but still workable since he was at least willing to fake it until he made it, so to speak.

“We’ll be going right to lunch after rec, Miss Lauren. You can bring Davey over to the caf or to rec if you like?”

“I guess we’ll play it by ear. Thanks, Miss Tanika. You’re the best.” Lauren always made a point to build up the residential staff. Many of the men and women working at the program were ‘enjoying additional employment elsewhere,’ as HR would put it. Sacrificial for many of them since the place hardly paid but expected almost Herculean sacrifice. And many of the staff had experienced so many of the hurts and disappointments as their charges, but had overcome the struggles that faced the boys on the unit.

“K, Miss Lauren. Thanks!”

Tanika often suffered the slings and arrows of words that would make a sailor blush. She was a very diligent woman who was working on her degree; fitting her classes into holes in her work schedule and supporting her mother and sister as well. Apart from the city and the family background, she and Lauren likely shared many of the same horrors in childhood as well; save for the gender issues that had nearly torn Lauren in two. Tanika was such a stalwart support to Lauren that the young woman gained the trust of the older and knew what Lauren had experienced years ago.

Apart from Miss Tanika and Miss Julie; the therapist on the Adolescent unit, and Dr. Roberto, no one knew about Lauren’s past. Not so much a secret as a decision to keep her own things private. As much as Dr. Roberto had become a mentor to Lauren, she had also become to a few of the residential staff, but most notably as a good friend to Miss Tanika.

“You gonna be okay?” She said to Davey as she stood by the exit. Winston had run down the hall to get his jacket. Davey smiled nervously and nodded. While she would never share a word of what Lauren had told her, that knowledge helped her understand and encourage Davey to open up to Lauren.

“See you at the caf.” Tanika placed her hand on Winston’s back as he hurried to the door way.

“Okay, little man, let’s go.”

“Can we talk out here?” Davey asked nervously.

“Sure. We’re alone, so no problem.”

“If I tell you a secret, will you promise not to tell anyone?” The boy put his head down.

“Well, Davey? You know that I talk to Dr. Roberto and Dr. John when I need help in helping you and the other boys, right?” Davey nodded and spoke in a near whisper.

“No…I mean…you won’t tell them, right?”

“Oh, no, Davey. Nothing you say….I don’t talk to anyone besides Dr. Roberto and Dr. John.” She paused.

“And Miss Tanika?”

“Only if you say it’s okay. And Miss Julie upstairs. She’s going to work with you when you go up there next week, right? Would you like her to be here, too?” The boy shook his head.

“Not yet, okay?”

“Sure…whatever you want. We can talk to her later if you like….maybe at your staffing this afternoon?" The boy nodded once again. He took a big breath; the look on his face was almost one of sheer dread.

“No matter what you tell me, you’re okay. You’re doing very well since that problem last month, and I think things will work out just fine when you get to the Adolescent unit.”

“I….I….” The boy’s eyes quickly filled with tears and he put his head down.

“You’re okay, Davey. Take another breath and talk when you’re ready. I’m here for you.” The boy did exactly that and a few moments later whispered once again. The wide corridor seemed to echo and amplify his words.

“I’m scared….”

“What scares you, Davey?”

“I’m really scared….” His voice trailed off and he looked away, but the glimpse that Lauren did catch showed that the boy was almost terrified.

“Something really bad scares you? I bet you’ve wanted to tell someone for a while, huh?”

“I told Miss Tanika an she said to tell you,” the boy blushed; turning his dark complexion almost magenta.

“I’m glad you trust Miss Tanika. It’s good to know you can trust someone. And I’m very glad you trust me. Can you tell me what you told her?” The boy nodded.

“Oh….okay.” The boy nodded even as the tears continued to fall. Lauren waited as the boy regrouped. A moment later he looked up and spoke.

“I think I’m…. I think I’m a….” Lauren had no way of knowing what the boy would say, but the look on his face was so very familiar; a look she had displayed long ago to some very kind people who sought to understand. And she knew exactly what was going to come next. Like a lawyer, sometimes it’s good to know the answer to the question you intend to ask. And Lauren knew, even if the boy would struggle with the word. She nodded and smiled a warm, welcoming smile…..

“I’m afraid.” The word was different but the dread was the same; the shame and guilt and confusion mixed all together in the same manner it had been for Lauren all those years ago. He was afraid, but would find out sometime soon that his fears would be held as valuable as any emotion he might express. And he’d find out that a burden shared is a burden halved.

“I know you’re afraid, Davey. I’ve been afraid in my life. We all get afraid sometimes, so I think I can understand.” He looked at her and the warm smile seemed to gently pull the needful words out of the boy over the next hour. After a while, Lauren put her hand up in gentle caution.

“Let me make a quick call, okay?” The boy nodded reluctantly and bit his lip. Lauren picked up the phone and dialed.

“Miss Melanie? Would you mind asking Miss Tanika to pick up a couple of lunches? Oh, no problem. We’re okay, but we need some time. Oh, yes. And a coffee? Thanks.” She hung up the phone and turned to Davey again.

“Now, we’re going to talk some more, okay? But I need to talk with Dr. Roberto and Miss Julie before your staffing later. And I think we’ll need to talk with your Mom at some point, but we don’t have to hurry.” She noticed the look of fear return to the boy’s face.

“I know this is hard, but the hardest part is over because now you won’t have to hide…at least with me and Miss Tanika. But I think you’re very smart to keep this a secret to the guys on the unit. And we’ll make sure that you’re in the right place for you. I know it won’t be easy, but I know someone in Arlington that can help you better than I can, since she knows exactly what you’re going through.” The boy’s eyes widened and he shook his head no.

“Oh, don’t worry. I won’t tell her anything. She can come visit you here and you can tell her what you want or not at all. We can meet with Dr. Roberto and Miss Julie and her and find just the right way to help you, okay?” The boy nodded nervously and sighed.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, Davey.”

“Two questions?” Lauren smiled and nodded.

“Why did God make me this way?” The boy bit his lip again as the tears began to fall. Lauren would never presume to speak regarding her own faith, and certainly had discovered long ago that the question was almost one for which she had no answer anyway, so she smiled once again and spoke.

“I don’t know, Davey. There are times when I ask myself the same question. I bet everyone does, you know? But you’re okay either way, right?” The boy nodded reluctantly once again and then paused in thought.

“What else did you want to ask?”

“If it’s okay, could you ….?” He looked down at himself in almost an examining posture.

“I mean…would you….I mean in your office?”

“In my office? Yes?”

“When we meet in your office? Could you not call me Davey?” Lauren resisted the urge to smile; nodding instead in welcome ‘permission.’ The boy sighed in relief.

“Could you call me …I don’t know….” His eyes teared up in embarrassment.’

“You don’t have one yet….Maybe you and Miss Julie and I can talk about this afternoon. No hurry, Dav…sorry….” She smiled and the boy sighed once again; this time in relief.

“My mom’s sister….my Auntie…her name is Audra.”

“Okay….Audra?” The boy nodded nervously; the vestiges of shame still holding on. Lauren smiled.

“Okay…Audra it is.” A few minutes of nervous silence passed before the boisterous shouting of the other boys could be heard from outside the unit. Lauren put her finger to her lips and spoke even as the clack of the door latch echoed down the hallway.

“Our secret, okay?” The boy half-smiled and mimicked her gesture with a finger to his lips.

“Hey….you on close watch?” One of the boys shouted. Davey stood up and went to protest but Lauren put her hand up in caution while directing her attention to the line of boys marching onto the unit.

“We were just talking about school and stuff, right Davey?” The boy looked at her in confusion until she winked; her expression hidden by Davey’s body.

“Oh yeah….Mr. Okifor and me are gonna work on Math.”

“Stupid!” Winston said as he walked by the pair.

“Just fuckin’ stupid.” He laughed at his own joke and disappeared through the door to his room.

“Thanks, Miss Lauren,” Davey said. He turned to find Mr. Rollo redirecting Stevie after a quick shove from another boy. And Miss Tanika stood with arms folded; not in boredom or expectation but in calm assurance as she nodded to Davey and Lauren as she placed two Styrofoam containers and two cups on the table before walking down the hallway. A few minutes later Lauren was back in her office and on the phone.

“Niecy? Yes… It’s great to talk to you as well. Say, do you have any time this week to come down here…Friday? That’s perfect. Yeah. Any openings? You do? Great. See you on Friday.” Lauren hung the phone up and looked out her office window at the open square between the surrounding units. It had begun to rain. And she smiled.

Next: Marta’s Gift

---

---

---

---

---

---

From Marta’s Chance

“You will be okay….I am going to take some time to visit my parents in Krakow and then I will be returning here, but not to work. I am going to get married.”

“What….” Marta turned around on the table and faced the girl, almost in a panic until the girl smiled, her grin almost silly and playful.

“That is, if you’ll have me?”

“If I’ll……” Marta turned away as if to question what she had just heard. She turned back to see that Dagmara’s grin had turned into a broad smile, her eyes welling with tears. She nodded and spoke softly, almost in a sing-song weeping combination,

“Marta, będziewampojąłbymnie?” She tilted her head slightly to one side. Marta’s Polish still left a bit to be desired, but her eyes widened in both recognition and tentative joy.

“Marry?” She stammered and Dagmara said simply but beautifully,

“Tak, Ty możeszbyćmojażona.” She nodded enthusiastically and drew close and kissed Marta.

“Wife? Yes…oh yes….”

---

St. Barnabas Hospital, Livingston, New Jersey…a few years later

“So it’s decided? And I don’t get a say in this,”

Dagmara pretended to pout. Of course she was glad for the gift that she was about to receive, even if it meant risk for both her and Marta. It’s rare to find donors who are compatible in such a short time; much less someone in our own family. That she and Marta shared enough markers for a transplant was truly amazing.

“You don’t have to do this.” She protested; not to put off Marta’s concern but to instead let her know that nothing between them was an obligation. Marta just smiled and leaned closer to kiss her wife…domestic partner, actually. Nothing yet on that front other than that everyone seemed to hedge their bets regarding any position; preferring to allow someone other than themselves to make a decision that should have been decided decades before.

“It will be my honor and my privilege, moja droga.” It would prove to be an honor and a privilege, but in much more in ways that would be far reaching and eternal.

---

Ostatni
(The Last)

Zatańcz ze mną jeszcze raz
Otul twarzą moją twarz
Co z nami będzie? - za oknem świt
Tak nam dobrze mogło być

Gdy ciebie zabraknie i ziemia rozstąpi się
W nicości trwam
Gdy kiedyś odejdziesz
Nas już nie będzie i siebie nie znajdziesz też *

The Issaksen home, two years later….

Marta lay on her side, facing away from Dagmara; her face etched with sadness. Dagmara arose from the bed walked over and hit the advance on the player. Soon the sounds of gentle rainfall were replaced by a romantic lament, She walked back to the bed and lifted Marta to her feet. Placing her right arm around Marta’s waist, she lifted Marta’s right hand; her head tilting slightly.

“Pochodzą ze mną tańczyć…Let me lead? I’ll be gentle, moja milosci,” she said with a smile. Marta pulled away and walked back to the bed.

“It’s … “ Marta sat down and shook her head in sad disbelief. After every bit of struggle and sacrifice she had made every effort had been in vain. At least she thought that way.

“Don’t be sad… it gave us more time than we could have hoped for.” Dagmara’s matter-of-fact explanation for the prognosis did nothing to comfort her wife, and Marta put her hand to her face as she shook her head lightly. A second later she felt Dagmara’s lips kiss her hand as she gently pulled it away from Marta’s face; revealing more sadness than she had ever seen.

“We still have time, moja droga. Just not as much as we’d like.”

“No….this is wrong. It’s not how it was supposed to be…It’s not fair!” Marta protested. The ache of the procedure was long past even, but the doubts and guilt remained. It was as if it was Marta’s fault that the donor cells failed; science and technology be damned. she had failed.

“But Marta? There is no such thing as fair. We live in a cruel world filled with flawed people trying their best to make it better. Have you not made my life better? If life had been fair, you would never have met me because you would have had a different life. But if you had an easier life you would not be the same person. Would you care as much about the children you help at the clinic? Would you have volunteered to go to Haiti? Would you even have loved me?

“I would have loved you…in a thousand lifetimes….” Dagmara smiled at Marta’s words.

“Yes, I do believe you would have, but would I have loved you? We shall never know, but I love you now ….today… and that is all that matters.” She giggled slightly as she kissed Marta’s hand once again, giving her a ticklish shock.

“Stop…this is…no time…” Marta protested as Dagmara pushed her back on the bed, turning her attention to the sensitive places on Marta’s rib cage. Words mixed with laughter and tears as the two continued to roll on the bed; tickling each other to hysterics. Dagmara kissed Marta full on; much more amorous than the moment would have promised but exactly what the moment required. She pushed her hand through Marta’s hair and laughed.

“You need to get to the hairdresser, kochanie.” She ran her hand over her own scalp, feeling the short brush that barely covered her head.

“I’m lucky, moja żona …. No such worries, yes?” What had she had intended to be a light moment turned dark in an instant as Marta stared at her wife.

“It’s not fair!” Marta repeated. Dagmara put her hand against Marta’s lips; palm forward to shush her.

“Maybe so, but we still have time, dear one. Let us do what we can to capture every precious moment we have instead of worrying about the moments we might not have. I love you….now… today…and forever!” Marta nodded in weak agreement until Dagmara added,

“I have not given up, and neither will you, okay?” She reached around Marta’s neck and pulled her into a warm, hopeful kiss before pulling her down into herself in invitation.

Czy słyszysz jak tam daleko muzyka gra?
Zatańcz ze mną, jeszcze raz**

---

Several years later…

Marta stood on a soft, rolling hill that overlooked a meadow-like area surrounded by tall oaks and strewn almost with plaques and headstones marked by winding cinder paths. A smallish girl stood next to her, holding her hand. The girl was about thirteen or so and favored Marta in coloring but was much more like her mother in size and temperament.

“Tell me again, Mama? I love it when you tell me about her, okay?” She glanced down at a bronze marker. Simple but elegant, Dagmara had insisted with a laugh. It was bordered by a raised frame of sorts with embossed roses and lilies.

“She did love to dance, right Mama? And she was loved.”

“Everyone she met loved her. She was so positive, Denuta, just like you. You have her eyes, you know?”

“Yes, Mama. I remember her eyes. And her smile.”

“Yes moja córka….and her smile.”

“Thank you, Mama. Thank you for loving my mother and thank you for loving me…”

Denuta grabbed Marta’s hand and pulled her close for a kiss on the lips. She was still a little girl in so many ways; innocent and hopeful, and strong; just like both of her mothers, which is as it should be. Marta pulled her daughter into a hug and kissed her on both cheeks in blessing. She grabbed the girl’s hand and they walked slowly down the hill.

Zatańcz ze mną jeszcze raz
Chcę chłonąć każdy oddech twój
Co z nami będzie? - uwierz mi
Tak jak ja nie kochał nikt***

Next: Michaela's Joy

---

*Dance with me one more time
Wrap up my face with your face
What will happen with us? - dawn out the window
We could have been so good

When you will be missing and the Earth will crack
I remain in nothingness
When someday you'll go away
There'll be no us anymore and you won't also find yourself

** Can you hear the music playing in the distance?
Dance with me, one more time

***Dance with me one more time
I want to inhale every breath you take
What will happen with us? - believe me
No one has ever loved like I do

Ostatni (The Last)
Words and music by
the performer
Edyta Bartosiewicz
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TPwB10gs8H8

---

---

---

---

---

---

From Michael’s Chance

The girl stood off to the side, her heart pounding and her eyes welling with tears. The four figures sat down at the news desk for the broadcast. Meanwhile, a man sat on a stool at Tully’s Good Times Bar and Grill and looked up at the TV on the wall behind the bar, counting down the seconds as the opening credits for the newscast rolled,

“Eyewitness News TV Thirteen with Rachael Barnhart and Jane Flasch, Meteorologist Patrice Walsh and Michaela Parente with the weekend sports……And now…Eyewitness News….”

---

Syracuse, New York, several years later…

Cindy Parente looked up through sleepy eyes and shook her head.

“They're actually going through with this?” She used her hand to point to herself and then to Michaela.

“I was so sure things had changed, honey. I’m so sorry.”

Michaela put her head down, feeling as if the story was her fault. In a way it was, but not as a fault but as a natural consequence of good decisions not held in respect by everyone. Most folks, even in the more ‘conservative’ places in upstate New York, believed in a live and let live attitude. And certainly, while Michaela had never been ashamed of her past, she still never felt called to be the spokesperson for transgendered sports reporters. Just being a woman in the business was difficult enough, as Hannah Storm had sadly discovered at ESPN.

“It’s not fair!” Cindy sighed. Neither woman dealt with fair vs. unfair; she really meant it was unjust that someone in the management of the local affiliate thought it good to draw attention to the couple’s life choices to boost ratings. Even before the teasers regarding the report had aired, Michaela was already receiving enough hate via twitters and e-mails at the station.

Mostly traditionalists liked their sportscasters to be either male or decidedly attractive women. Michaela wasn’t unattractive, but she’d never grace Elle or Vanity Fair either. And in every aspect save one, she was never really a male. She had, however, been Michael Parente. That would never change, since who she had been prior to her surgery was just as much a part of her.

“No, but it’s what it is.” Michaela sighed. She sat down on the bed and covered her eyes and began to cry softly. Before Cindy spoke again, Michaela had turned to her.

“I’m sorry you have to go through this. It was never my intent…” Cindy cut her off with a finger to her lips. She pulled her wife close to her and kissed her on the cheek.

“I know. But I am so glad to be a part of your life…of this life we share. No matter what, we’ll be fine, okay?”

It was going to be fine, but how and why and when were yet to be determined. And the ‘going through it’ part of becoming fine in the end would be the hardest thing either woman would ever endure.

---

Wegmans’ Supermarket, Syracuse, New York…

Michaela seemed lost in the large store, but not for anything there. She grabbed a gallon of milk from the shelf and put it in the cart; absentmindedly enough to crush a loaf of bread. She bit her lip and looked around while talking to herself.

“Hey, Mickey… you suck!” The voice came from behind and to her left. She looked over her shoulder and saw two men standing by the Coffee grinder at the end of the aisle. Hate mail, snail, electronic, or otherwise, was hard enough to deal with, but now some ‘fans’ had taken it upon themselves to protect the sports profession from ‘ those people ‘ in person . Too many were still stuck in the past regarding women in general, but if the misogynists were in the dark ages, then the anti-transgender crowd that had only recently raised its ugly head was positively Neanderthal.

“Look….she’s gonna cry….” The hairier of the two exclaimed. Michaela was on the verge of tears, but not for the idiocy coming from the two. She grabbed her purse from the cart and walked out of the store to her car. She eased in behind the steering wheel and hit the recline lever on the seat. It had started to rain, and she powered the windows a bit to let the cool mist in. Turning her head to the side, she noticed her station windbreaker. She bunched it up a bit and put it under her head to use as a pillow. Ironic, since it was likely the last benefit she’d receive from her job if the rumors were indeed true. And this was actually the best part of her day…

---

News Department Conference Room, WTVH, Syracuse, New York, earlier that day….

“Gee, Michaela, I’m sorry you feel that way, but you do have a contract…” The man seemed positively convinced of his own cleverness. Michaela shook her head.

“My contract doesn’t call for me to subject my family to what amounts to an invasion of privacy. You want to do a story about me here, that’s fine, but my home life is off limits. My wife and step-daughter have enough to deal with, and they don’t need you prying into their lives…” Her voice trailed off as she thought of the continued struggle her stepdaughter Celia underwent. Still young at twelve but so old from all the chemo and the ups and downs of the remission/return cycle and the procedure. It was hopeful by a very slim margin, but that still meant something.

“That’s not the way Legal sees it, Ms. Parente. You’d be wise to listen to Halley here and just work with us.” Benson, the new station manager leaned closer.

“We can’t fire you, but I imagine you don’t want to be doing the Saturday Pet Parade; you have a personal services contract that pretty much lets us call the shots. You don’t have to do sports if you want to remain employed…. Just whatever we say you should.”

“I don’t care. I’ll do whatever is necessary to keep my family safe.” She shook her head. It felt as if the past few years had all been a dream and that the harsh reality of her life was waking her like someone dumped a pitcher of cold water on her head while she was asleep. She thought of how much Cindy had put up with at work when the network aired the teaser for the series the other night. While Cindy’s co-workers were already aware of her special family circumstances, some of the other folks at Michaela’s old station were still being dragged kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century.

“Think it over. We will start filming tomorrow; ready or not. If you still refuse to cooperate, there’s always kittens and puppies and fucking birds to deal with on Saturday from now on. Your choice.” The two got up and walked out, leaving Michaela to ponder the worst part of those choices. But it didn’t stop there, sadly. A few minutes later, Gina Ming, the production assistant, knocked on the door frame.

“Mikey? Your wife is on line seven? She says she’s been trying to get in touch with you but it kept going to voice mail. I’m sorry.” She pointed to the conference phone in the middle of the table. Michaela picked up the receiver and hit the seven-button.

“Cindy…what…. Where are you….Dr. Phan’s…what? ” She placed the receiver in the cradle and bit her tongue. A moment later Gina had returned with a cup of coffee.

“Here, sweetie… I figured you could use this after meeting with those dickheads….” She stopped in mid sentence; noticing that the color had pretty much left Michaela’s face and that she had been crying. She stepped closer and Michaela looked up and shook her head.

“Celia? Oh dear God ….” The look of disappointment on Michaela’s face said it all.

“Oh, honey…no….no…” Gina sat down next to Michaela and pulled her into a comforting hug.

“It’s not the worst news in the world, but…. I’m just so tired….”

“I’m so sorry, honey….oh no…shhhhh….shhhhh.” Gina rubbed Michaela’s back and sighed.

---

Two-Twelve AM… the Parente apartment…

Michaela poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. Cindy was in Celia’s room asleep next to her daughter…their daughter. Funny how things work out; Michaela had given up hope years ago of ever being a parent. She never thought that she’d find love from a child, much less love from an accepting woman. She breathed out a heavy sigh; trying to keep quiet in the still that sleep had finally brought to her family. The long day promised no end, and it was too much for Michaela. She put her head down on the table and wept….

---

The next morning….

“What am I going to do?” Michaela wasn’t a complaining person. Far from it, she was likely one of the most resolute people anyone would want to meet. But the day before her loomed as large as a thunderstorm edging closer and closer. Cindy put her hand on Michaela’s arm and leaned closer; almost touching heads.

“What you’ve always done. Fight and fight hard.” She smiled and used her eyes to gaze at Celia. The girl was up and at ‘em, as some would say, despite the bad news of the day before. If Michaela was a fighter, then her step-daughter…her daughter was a champion in mixed emotional martial arts. She had everything to fear, but her day lay before her like a title already settled but for the fight ahead.

“Yeah…I think you should just tell them …. Mom says I shouldn’t, so I’ll just say you know what I mean.” The girl giggled. So much strength and determination and valor in one so young; strength tempered by challenges to overcome.

“Can I ask a question?” Cindy and Michaela both wore the same expression; a look that said ‘you can have anything you want.’ She didn’t miss the look and spoke.

“Mom….Mikey? I’m going to be okay. I believe that with all my heart, and so should you.” She reached over and grabbed Cindy’s hand and squeezed.

“I think you should do the story, Mikey….” She grinned; an almost conspiratorial smile.

“Just do it the way you want. And if they won’t let you, maybe you can call Uncle Jack?”

“Do it the way we want to?” Cindy nodded and grinned.

“Maybe say somthin’ about Carrie and Luis and even have them come over there when they do the thing?” Her grin widened and she laughed; this time soft and kind and sweet. Her friends faced the same daunting challenges each day as she did and they faced them with courage.

“That’s a great idea.” Michaela smiled and pulled her cell phone from her purse. She hit a preset and waited for a few moments.

“Jack? Yes…. Can you do me a huge…yes…that….they won’t give in…what? You serious? Really? Holy…Yes…tomorrow afternoon is perfect….he’s there with you….wow…..you’re a dear….I love you too….Thanks…” She clicked off and laughed softly. Of course the news was wonderful, but she was marveling more that Jack Welker had actually said ‘I love you,’ to her; a testimony, not only to their friendship, but to the changes in Jack’s life.

“You’ll never guess what Jack just told me…” And of course they couldn’t guess, so Michaela told them. A few minutes later after another cup of coffee and a few relieved tears, Michaela went to stand up. Celia grabbed Michaela’s hand and placed it on her head, giving her other Mom a start from the prickle of the peach-fuzz of hair that adorned her scalp.

“For luck?” She laughed. The girl was used to setbacks. Her hair had grown only so much with the back-and-forth of her treatment, but was at least long enough to reveal its ginger hue.

“Okay,” Michaela said. Her heart wasn’t really into fighting a battle, but how could she back down from something so small as a job when her daughter was in the fight of her life. She stood up and grabbed her purse from the table. Leaning over , she kissed Cindy and spoke.

“I love you so much. We’ll be fine.” She nodded and stepped around the table and kissed Celia on the forehead and smiled.

“I cannot begin to tell you how proud I am of you and that I am so blessed. I love you so much.” She kissed the girl once again and scooted out the door and into the day’s events.

---

The next afternoon…

“Have you decided?” The man sat behind the large table as if it was his office domain. Flanked on either side were two men. Benson seemed to resemble Mr. Smith from the Matrix series and the other two looked just as bland.

“Before you speak, let me remind you of what your options are? First, we’ve decided that you can have a few days before we begin to shoot for the feature. It’s going to be shown as a half-hour special on the 26th; plenty of time to prepare for the publicity it will bring.”

“To you, maybe. To me, it’s not publicity, but will become notoriety with some people. And that’s something…”

“I’m sorry you feel the way you do, but really? Isn’t this all inevitable? It’s not a secret about your choice to change your sex.” One of the men spoke.

“And really? Can a bit of notoriety be all that bad for a sports reporter? It practically drives most of the stories these days, yes? Why not….”

“Just sit back and enjoy it?” All three men completely missed the meaning of her words.

“Why, yes. That’s a good way of looking at it.”

Michaela turned to her right and shook her head slightly, mouthing, “I can’t believe he just said that. Jack turned to the three and smiled broadly.

“What do you have to say, Mr…..You’re Ms. Parente’s attorney?

“Jack….Jack Welker, and no, I’m not her attorney.”

“The name sounds familiar.”

“It should. I’m the station manager over at ROC in Rochester."

“And you’re here because?”

“He’s here because he’s my friend.” She turned and smiled; Jack’s presence went way beyond advice or hand-holding. Jack was like a father to Michaela, and he was ‘there for her,’ as the saying goes.

“All well and good, but the decision still remains. Are you prepared to cooperate?”

“Well, yes and no.”

“You might want to actually do some research on transgender women and men. You don’t have a clue as to who they are or what they go through, and it’s really too bad, since it shows how shallow you are. But Ms. Parente has something more important to discuss.” Jack nodded at Michaela.

“I’m not following you.” The man looked at Michaela and then at his colleagues.

“I am prepared to do a program for the station, but it will be on my terms.”

“I don’t understand? “ He stated the obvious since they hadn’t understood from the beginning.

“Just this. Ms. Parente and her partner are the parents of a daughter who is recovering from a significant medical problem. The girl is willing to allow you to include her in your feature if you agree to her terms; terms which are non-negotiable.”

“Wait a second, you can’t dictate to me…I’m the station manager!” Benson almost jumped out of his chair. The other two nodded vigorously in agreement.

“Well, more about that in a second, but for moment let’s just say that Celia Parente-Wrobowski will be running the show, so to speak. She has some friends who face the same challenges as she does, and she wants them included in the feature. All of her friends have had bone-marrow transplants, and it’s still an uphill battle for some. Your feature may include some background regarding her mother Cindy and her step-mother, Ms. Parente, but in no way will Ms. Parente’s gender be the focus of the presentation.

“Wait a minute! That’s ridiculous. That’s the whole reason for the feature in the first place.”

“Sorry, but that’s a violation of Ms. Parente’s rights and threatening her position with the station is blatant harassment, plain and simple.”

“That’s not what our legal department says,” the first man pointed to the third at the end of the conference table.

“Well, yes, we’re quite aware of what your legal department says, but we don’t accept that.”

“You can’t tell us…” Jack held his hand up and waved slightly in caution. It took all Michaela could do not to laugh, since she already knew that the best was yet to come.

“I’m not a lawyer , but I have a friend who is…” He paused for effect; the suspense was more for his benefit and a need for a good laugh, but he also wanted to hear them out.

“Yes, most of us do, but seriously, we have contract law behind us.” The man seemed to be getting a bit nervous. Jack added to the anxiety all three of the men had begun to display by pulling out his cell phone.

“You might want to listen to what my friend has to say.” With that he punched in some numbers and waited. After hearing a click, he turned on the speaker.

“Hello Jack? Are my friends there?” The words seemed friendly enough but the three men grew more nervous since they recognized the voice; Robert Stephano; owner of the station.

“Yes they are, Bob…yes they are,” Jack allowed himself a brief laugh.

“Gentlemen…you do know who I am, do you not?” The two on either side of the first man nodded as if the man on the other end could see them. Benson seemed to be hoping desperately that he was mistaken even as he nodded in agreement.

“Ye….yes, Mr. Stephano.”

“My friend Jack here tells me you’ve been giving our best sports announcer a very hard time. Please tell me he’s wrong?”

“We…uh….” Benson stammered but Stephano cut him off.

“I would expect my station manager would know a rhetorical question when he heard one. Of course I know he’s not wrong. What the fuck were you thinking?”

“We…ah….”

“Rhetorical, Mr. Benson, please! Now my understanding is that Ms. Parente’s daughter has come up with a very good if not completely legal and non-harassment enabling alternative. Human interest. Brave little girl faces challenges with friends? Now who wouldn’t want to watch that?”

“Er….”

“Ah, ah, ah Mr. Benson. Now here’s what you three are going to do.” Jack turned away to keep from bursting out in laughter. Michaela was only smiling a bit; her eyes had begun to well with tears over the thought of Celia and her friends. But she sighed and smiled as Stephano continued.

“First? You are going to apologize to Ms. Parente. I believe an apology should have teeth, so you will be giving her a ten percent raise effective immediately. Second….you will write her family an apology for even thinking about trying to exploit them. It’s hardly a human interest story if you’re inhumane, yes?” Benson went to speak but thought better of it; the word rhetorical seemed to bound around in his head.

“Third, and this is very important, gentlemen, and I am using that word as loosely as I can manage. You will get all the proper paper worked ready for this production, including a contract to compensate the children who will be featured in the program, which you will extend to an hour. This won’t merely be a story, but perhaps a way for you to redeem yourself. I’ve taken the liberty to set up a fund for the three…the four counting Ms. Parente’s daughter…children…. To help defray the costs of their treatment. Get Angie Zuk to produce it; she does a great job and she can go over with you all the ins and outs of what you three will be responsible for.”

“But I’m in legal,” the man at the end protested.

“For the time being, Mr. Halley….yes, I know your name; your father and I go way back. You can resume your other responsibilities after the show is completed, but I want you focused on fixing what has become a royal fuck-up, capice?” Halley nodded.

“And don’t feel so bad, Mr. Allucio? Did I pronounce that right? Of course I did. I’ve got a special job for you. It seems that assistant to the station manager isn’t quite a good fit for you. I think I’ve got just the right position. Do you like animals? Of course you do…. Everybody likes animals.” Halley gasped.

“I’ll let you keep your position as assistant to Mr. Benson there, provided you do a smashup job on the assignment I’ve got for you. Saturday mornings….starting very early…yes I know it’s hard after a long fun-filled Friday night, but I’ve got every confidence in you that you’re just the right man for the job.” He laughed at the end. Halley grew nervous and frowned in anticipation.

“That’s right…you guessed it! Pet Parade. And we’ll be doing that live and repeating on Sunday mornings as well, since everybody likes animals.” Allucio slunk in his chair.

“Finally…we come to you, Mr. Benson. All kidding aside? You nearly cost this station a whole lot of money. Lawsuits…loss of revenue from the fallout? But that’s not the worst part of it, Mr. Benson. And I promise; this isn’t a rhetorical question. Just what the fuck did you think was a good idea about a very intrusive look into a family already dealing with what these people have to face? Even if you didn’t do your research, Ms. Parente’s ‘no’ should have been enough. And here’s a thought? Next time you decide to pull a stunt like this, instead of running it by the legal department, try running it by your conscience if you actually have one.”

“I’m….I’m sorry.” The break in Benson’s voice indicated more than just regret for the consequences.

“I know you are….thankfully. You get to keep your job, Mr. Benson, but there will be a two percent reduction in pay; perhaps a bonus of sorts to help you remember the next time you think about exploiting someone. Okay?” Stephano’s last words seemed almost grand-fatherly.

“Yes, Mr. Stephano…” The other two nodded without word.

“Oh, and Mr. Halley? Your father says hi….” He finished with a laugh and hung up.

“So gentlemen? Would you give Ms. Parente a call when all the arrangements are set up?” Jack smiled and patted Michaela’s hand. Benson stood up and was quickly followed by the other two. He nodded and walked toward the door before stopping and turning.

“I’m very sorry, Ms. Parente.” He said. She smiled and nodded.

---

Several months later….

Michaela and Cindy and Celia sat at the kitchen table. Cindy’s expression reflected her daughter’s; one of happy and hopeful relief.

“Wow….seventeen thousand dollars so far, and that’s not including what Mr. Stephano kicked in. Oh thank you, Mikey,” Celia threw her arms around Michaela and kissed her.

“It’s all you, sweetie. You did this!”

“No….we did this,” the girl said as she smiled and nodded at Cindy and then back at Michaela.

“In all of this, honey, you’ve never once asked for anything for yourself. It’s all been about your friends and us. And we’re so proud of you. If you could have anything….” Cindy stopped; gasping at the thought of unfulfilled wishes. Desperate enough for most people to begin with, but even more so for Celia and her friends. She smiled.

“Two things? First? I want to grow up to be just like you. I want to be kind and caring and love people the way you do Mom and you, Mikey. And of course I want to be in sports just like you, Mikey.” Michaela and Cindy nodded. Just those wishes indicated so much more because the girl hoped for a future. Cindy smiled at her daughter.

“What was the second thing, honey?” Michaela asked. Celia laughed softly and said.

“This isn’t neg…negotiable, Okay?” They looked askance at her in anxious anticipation. Her laughter softened as she seemed to ponder the other wish. She smiled broadly and spoke.

“No more broccoli for dinner!” Michaela and Cindy looked at her in confusion; the request was so small; almost insignificant until she added,

“Forever!” Cindy sighed at the word and Michaela leaned closer and kissed her daughter and said softly in the girl’s ear,

“Forever.”

Thanks to all of you dear folks who have followed my friends in this group of stories. I hope they've been as much a blessing to you as they have to me.