Three girls find they have a lot more in common than their music...
Yuki's wish - playing, freedom, music...all for what if not to be the girl i am
Lainie's hope - maybe now they'll listen...more than just playing...maybe now they might hear
Danni's dream - the dawn awakens my soul no longer the same as now new my heart sings

Perugino’s Restaurant, Luzerne, Pennsylvania, Wednesday evening...

Alan smiled politely at the "patrons" as they departed, despite the teasing and catcalls. Boys of a certain age…maybe of many ages…love to tease their peers whom they deem not masculine enough.

At 5’9” and barely 155 pounds, Alan’s stature seemed to call for attention. That he wished he were a waitress instead of a wait person, as his supervisor had called him, remained thankfully unknown to all but a handful of humanity, or he might have invited even more teasing. Maybe it was pheromones; maybe it was a psychic vibe he sent out. Nevertheless, it was fortunate that no one knew that his name of choice was Elaine.

He made his way to the kitchen to drop off the last of the plates he had picked up from another table before punching out for the evening. A familiar face greeted him warmly as he headed for the door.

“Hey…Alan…Wait up,” Genevieve O'Hara called to him as he walked past, nearly ignoring her, which was not his intent. He was just tired of the teasing and hadn’t even noticed her standing there. She walked over to him and grabbed his arm.

“Hey, kid…what’s wrong…you look upset, and I know something bad has to be going on to make you lose your smile.”

“Oh…it’s the same…here and at home. Mostly here tonight, but I can never seem to get away from it all.” He sighed.

“Your dad still raggin’ you?” Gennie half-frowned in commiseration. That Alan faced so much more made her wish all the more that she could be there for him.

“Not so much…He just doesn’t understand. I don’t know what to do. I can’t keep up everything, and with his hours cut back at the lab, I’ve got to keep working here…at least until the fall when I go away to school…” Alan bit his tongue, as if a full scholarship at the University of Illinois was a death sentence.

“And of course there’s track, right?”

“Well…no track…no scholarship. I wish I had an in with the music…the department at school is okay, but we sorta get lost in the shuffle with the bigger high schools, and we don’t have the resources for me to trek all the way back to Pittsburgh since we moved, so I don’t even have an orchestra to audition for.”

He frowned as he recalled how his mother was a part of an orchestra, and yet it bore no weight when it came to any consideration. That his talent was almost as honed as his mother’s made no difference, and his viola remained virtually unheard except by a discerning few. That he wished that it were Elaine instead of Alan playing in the orchestra gained no consideration, even in his own home, where his mother was quite aware of her son’s….her daughter’s gender issues.

“Hey…I’ve got an idea, honey.” The girl was at least five years older than him, still young, but a college girl none the less. Out of his league…or rather out of her league to be exact; and that was not even taking into account to whom Lainie might be attracted. But Gennie was a very caring and understanding friend.

“I know it’s difficult to get time for your mom to talk, and I know your dad would be so pissed…” Her voice trailed off before she continued with a shake of her head.

“I’m sorry, kid…he’d be fucking livid, and I bet you’d never hear the end of how fucked up you are.” Gennie’s voice trailed off once again as she realized just how painful her reminder was. She leaned closer and kissed him on the cheek.

“I’m sorry, Alan…sometimes I say stuff before thinking…It’s so hard for you, and I know it’s like being pulled in so many fucking directions.” She looked around the kitchen. Gino the chef had stepped out and none of the wait staff was there. She leaned even closer, noticing the boy had begun to cry, his face red with embarrassment and shame.

“It’s okay…Elaine…” She whispered in the boy’s ear.

“You’re off tomorrow and you don’t have band practice tomorrow, right? Anything going on for track?”

“No…coach gave us off tomorrow since we have a meet on Friday,”he said as he wiped his face with the towel from his pocket.

“Come over tomorrow. My mom doesn’t know anything about you…I promise I haven’t said anything, but if you need someone to talk to, she’ll understand. Okay?”

“Okay…thanks, Gen…you’re...oh...just thanks.”

“It’s okay, kid…we’re friends, right? And friends stick together. Tomorrow after school then?”

“Okay.” The boy touched her softly on the arm in parting and walked out.

“Just friends,” Gennie sighed as she watched the boy depart.

Wednesday night at the Peterson home, Dallas, Pennsylvania...

Alan walked into his bedroom…almost tiptoeing even though he would be alone for the next four days. His father was on a business trip to Syracuse for the lab so he wouldn’t be spending his weekend at his Dad’s place. And his mother was playing with her orchestra at a concert in Cincinnati so he had the house to himself. He walked to his closet and pulled down the large box that came with his DVD system. Placing it on the bed, he went back to the closet and pulled an old suitcase. He handled the case as if it held a treasure; to him it did. He recalled the conversation he had with his mother before she left.

“You’re acting like a fool, Alan…I won’t have it. You’ve come too far to throw it away on a whim.” She pointed to the papers sitting on the kitchen counter even as she felt horrible about the words she had just spoken.

“We’ll talk when I get home….Okay? That’s the best I can do at this point. I love you.” She kissed him once and walked to the car and was gone. Something in her expression gave him hope…her hope that things would be okay.

He opened the case and smiled; what rested inside was meager but gave him a strength that nearly nothing else did besides his music. He pulled out the contents and went inside the bathroom.

The girl sat in the chair. She looked at her reflection in the mirror on the far wall. Her hair, still a bit shorter than she liked, was up, done as you might usually see at a recital. Her makeup was modest and her look was enhanced by a rare sereneness that visited her only on her times of playing. She smiled as she eyed her gown; purple and off the shoulder. She sighed in relief at the way her gown fit; she had worried understandably however needlessly since she had purchased it on the internet.

The music seemed to wrap her in a blanket of knowing acceptance; as if Pyotr himself had written the piece with a mind to warm her soul. Bright and hopeful and joyful would visit her with the next movement, but for now it was the strong connection that she bore with the near despairing tune that would touch her heart. First with her beloved Viola…then with the violin and finally her cello. It struck her as ironic that she was named in a manner after her favorite composer, Pyotr; her musical father in away...Elaine Petronova.

Alan's neighborhood...

The bus stopped and the car behind it pulled over to the curb.

“Hey, where you heading? I thought you were coming over for dinner tonight." Gennie called out as Alan got off the bus.

“Oh…Hi, Gennie,” Alan said and put his head down, trying not to make eye contact with her.

“Oh no you don’t.” We have a date,” she practically shouted, and Alan was thankful that the Capaldi twins had stayed late for a yearbook meeting. Gennie actually thought about the word even as it escaped her mouth; ‘date’ didn’t quite describe what she had planned, but it really was a nice word.

“I don’t feel so good, Gen…I think I just want to go home and lie down.” Alan wasn’t lying. He had almost lost hope of ever seeing things change; Pyotr Ilytch’s soft steady encouragement to the contrary. He was so sick that even the thought of being by himself was actually discouraging because he didn’t even have the energy to play and dress. His only solace was that his mother still was two days away from her return home; maybe he’d feel better tomorrow?

“Come on, kid…things can’t be that bad.”

They weren’t that bad; they were worse. When he had gotten off work the other night he had forgotten to ask about the mail. Looking at the letters in the morning he had discovered that his scholarship for track had been cut due to the economy. And another letter informed him that the orchestra had no scholarships available for viola; he could apply again the following spring or accept a one year scholarship based on his cello audition. Two things taken away from a boy who had very little to begin with.

“Aw, shit, honey…here…let me get that,” she said as she softly removed his backpack from his shoulder. He turned to her to thank her and his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell to the ground.

The O'Hara home, three blocks away...

She tried to sit up but was overcome with a wave of nausea. She put her head back down on the pillow and turned to the side. A woman seemed to be floating sideways, but she soon realized it was because of her view. Once again she tried to sit up, but slower and more carefully. A voice came from off to her right; everything seemed blurred and sounded like she was underwater.

“Hey, kid…you okay? You gave me quite a scare there.” Gennie leaned closer and handed Alan an ice pack.

“I managed to get you on your feet and to our house. My mom came over after work. Our doc was by; you’ve got some virus, and an ear infection.” Alan stared at Gennie blankly but vaguely remembered a kind man with a nice smile.

“Most docs wouldn’t have come, but since it’s my uncle Randy, you got the royal treatment.” She smiled and poked him in the arm before adding,

“Oh…yeah…He says to stop taking your mom’s pills until you see the right doctor, okay?”

“You told him? You promised.”

“He asked if you’d been taking any meds and I said I wasn’t sure. He grabbed your backpack and found the pills. I would have stopped him but I figured you really needed to listen to what he had to say.

“Gennie?” the boy looked at her and then burst into tears.

“Thus the near-girl proves my point,” she laughed softly but shook her head.

“My cousin Shelly goes to a good doctor that helped her when she made the move.” Meav O’Hara called from the kitchen. “You can tell her we sent you…don’t worry, she understands kids like you.”

“Here,” she said, handing a cold bottle of water. “Randy said you really need to hydrate; that’s why you passed out…that and what he said about the pills.”

The boy put his head down, trying to choke back some tears. She put her hand on the boy’s shoulder, causing him to wince only a bit; his need for contact overcame his fear and he struggled to sit up once again; this time to move closer to the comfort Gennie’s mom provided.

“Listen…if you don’t mind, I’d like to help. I can be with you and Gennie when you tell her about what happened tonight.” She squeezed the boy’s hand before continuing;

“This is too serious to keep from your parents; they need to know. I’ll be happy to talk to her.”

“Oh…that’s…you don’t…have to…” The boy was pushing away help even as his heart was screaming for it.

“Nonsense,” Meav said. “You’ve really been like a member of the family, honey, and I’ve known your mom since she beat me out for your father….” She stopped in mid-sentence and turned red.

“Oh, gosh, honey..I’m so sorry.”

“Thaat’ss….oh…kay, Mrs. O….it’s ….alright.

“And I’ll help you talk to your dad as well, okay?” Gennie’s step-dad said as he walked into the living room. The family’s generosity and acceptance was both beautiful and tragic in that it demonstrated that someone understood; sadly it wasn’t his own family that understood.

But the boy was also torn; he was grateful for the love he’d been shown, but felt so exposed and ashamed that his secret was no longer safe. He would have felt betrayed but for the fact that Gennie couldn’t help him bear his burden alone.

Alan managed to keep from crying any harder until Meav sat down on the couch next to him and said softly,

“It’s okay, honey…Gen told me all about you… Elaine?” The boy disappeared, replaced by a very sensitive and talented but insecure girl who melted into her best friend’s mother’s arms in a sea of tears.

“It’s okay.”

Two days later at the Peterson home...

“Alan?” Sue Peterson laid her purse on the kitchen counter and paused.

“Cello? He hasn’t played cello in months. Vivaldi…jazz riffs?” She called down the hall once again when the music stopped.

“Honey?”

“In here, Mom,“ a voice called from the second bedroom. She stepped through the doorway expecting to see her child, and she did; just not in a way she expected. Sitting in a folding chair she saw a young lady; about eighteen or so, holding bow to bridge. Her face was almost serene in her peace. She looked up and smiled.

“Alan?” Susan shook her head; whoever this young lady was, she couldn’t be her son, could she? The answer came immediately.

“Hi, Mom! Welcome home.”

“Alan…what’s the meaning of this? I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t do anything until we discussed this.” Sue stared at the boy sitting in the chair, her expression less angry than frustrated.

“I just don’t know about this Alan…” She sighed; wanting to support her child but fearful of making a mistake; actually and earnestly wanting to understand.

“Mom…this is who I am.”

“But a cellist? Alan?” She made an attempt at a joke, but quickly spoke when the girl frowned.

“I’m sorry, honey. Really…” It would have been understandable if the girl cried, which she did, but Sue began to weep.

“I’ve let you down…I should have…you needed a father…”

“Mom…it’s not your fault.” The girl tried to continue but her voice wavered as her mother rushed to her side.

“I should have stayed with your father…I should have never left him.”

“You don’t understand…I was like this way before…. before you and Daddy broke up.”

Sue stepped closer and put her hand on the girl’s shoulder, trying to connect but feeling completely lost.

“Alan…please…” By then she could hardly speak. She felt so guilty without even knowing why. She felt the girl kiss her hand and pull it close to her breast.

“Mom…this is me…not the cello…not the viola……”

“But Alan…you love to play.”

“But they’re just part of me, Mom…this is who I am.” By now she was crying; shaking enough that the cello fell from against her knees onto the floor with a loud thud.

“Honey…we’ll get you help.” Sue blurted out. She leaned over and surrounded the girl in bear hug.

“I’m not going to change, Mom…it won’t work!” The girl tried to stand up but her mother redoubled her efforts to connect and squeezed the girl’s arm.

“No…I mean…we’ll get you the help you need. I’m sorry…”

“What…”

“I…I thought there was something wrong with you because I made so many mistakes when your Dad and I split…like this was my fault”

“Mom…nobody did anything wrong….nobody is at fault because this, not Alan, is who I was meant to be…I don’t care if I ever get to do anything else if I can’t be me…I can’t…I just can’t….please Mom.” The girl leaned back in the chair and sobbed harder than she had ever in her life.

“It’s okay, honey…I’m so sorry…we’ll get through this…we’ll get through this…It’s okay.” Sue clung closer to her and kissed her ear, whispering softly,

“I love you so much…I’m so sorry…I love you.” She knew she loved the child she held, even if she didn’t understand him? Her? She shook her head in wonder just who this child was in her arms. And she swallowed hard, wondering just how to break the news to her ex-husband. Seventeen years, ten months and seven days after the fact?

“Congratulations, Mr. Peterson, it’s a girl?”

A few days later...

Sue was sitting on the couch, looking out the front window, wondering where her answers would come. The phone rang.

“Sue Peterson, yes…oh, yes, Genevieve…Al…yes, I know…she’s been very kind to Alan…dinner, why that’s very kind of you? Seven…okay…thanks” She hung up and turned to the kitchen, where Alan was making lunch.

“Honey…your friend Genevieve? Her mother just invited you and me to dinner tomorrow.

“Gennie takes after her…she’s such…”

Alan’s voice had trailed off; he caught himself before saying ‘an understanding mother.’ Susan was trying hard to understand her child; she actually had thought about Alan’s dilemma the entire time she was away for the concert, and it was on her heart all the time now that Alan had made a decision.

Her child was growing up fast; and starting out at nearly eighteen in her life journey was a very challenging situation for them both, not to mention her ex-husband. She was desperate to find some help to discuss Alan’s ‘choice’ with her ex. The choice wasn't becoming a girl, was it? Or was it becoming more of who she already was. It was so confusing.

Alan had yet to tell his mother about the change in scholarship status. No matter regarding the athletic scholarship; that would have gone 'away' in any case now that Elaine would be coming out, he hoped. But the change in the music scholarship meant that he had to go to school..."as is," in order to secure the benefit, or try to figure out a way to attend school and begin his...her change. He was glad that the O'Hara's were reaching out to his mother. He prayed desperately that they would connect.

That Saturday at the O'Hara home...

“It was very kind of you to invite us for dinner.” Susan smiled uncomfortably as she handed the dish of potatoes to Meav.

“We’re glad to have you over; Gennie has really taken Alanunder her wing, so to speak, and we’ve grown fond of….” Meav’s voice trailed off, but Susan knew what she wanted to say but was reluctant to voice.

“You mean my…daughter? I know this has been hard on Alan, and I appreciate your support, but…”

“I’m sorry Mrs. Peterson,” Gennie interrupted. “May I ask you a question?”

“Oh…oh sure, of course.”

“Do you trust your child?” Susan was taken aback a bit at such a personal question, but she went ahead and answered.

“Of course…why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, if you trust your child, why wouldn’t you believe your child’s expression of need?”

“Need? I’m not following you?” Susan was beginning to be embarrassed and a bit upset.”

“I’d like to tell you something about myself, okay?” Gennie smiled and held her hands out and slightly apart over the table. Susan nodded, but Alan touched Gennie’s arm.

“Please…you don’t have to…besides…we have to tell my Mom about the other day…okay?” Gennie nodded reluctantly while Susan’s curiosity was supplanted by a frustrated anger.

“What about the other day?”

“My brother Randy’s a doctor,” Sean said. “When you were at your concert, Alan had a virus and an ear infection that caused him to pass out…He was right by our house, so Randy came over and saw him.” Susan’s expression grew worried.

“You didn’t say anything to me,” she said, casting a concerned glance toward Alan.

“He also found these,” Sean reached back and grabbed the birth control pills from the credenza.

“What… You’re not….” She looked right at Gennie, and the girl half-smiled and shook her head.

“No…mom..it’s not what you think.”

“Alan was self-medicating…the way some of us do when we don’t have any help.”

“What do you mean…self-medicating.” Susan was debating whether to get up right then and there and leave. Meav put her hand on Susan’s arm and said softly,

“Susan…I think you should listen to Gennie, okay?” Her voice was soothing and calm and served to ease the tension in the room.

“When I was fourteen, I was doing the same thing with my mother’s pills…I read about it online and I didn’t know who to turn to. Daddy had just died, and Mom hadn’t met Sean yet.

"It was a rough time for both of us.” Meav began to tear up at the memory of their loss.

“Doing the same? I don’t understand.” Susan looked at Gennie and at Alan and back again.

“I was afraid that if I didn’t do something, I was going to get stuck, and nothing would ever help me. What I didn’t know is that my Mom….well…she sorta understood right away. That I needed help to become who I am…what I needed in the way of doctors and my shrink…you know?” Susan didn’t know what she was talking about, which was clear to Meav, so she spoke.

“Gennie grew up as a boy until her nineteenth birthday, Susan… Darren Andrew O’Hara… Junior…”

“Oh my god…you’re kidding.” We say it all the time, knowing full well no one kids about that.

“What Alan has been doing by himself is trying to forestall something that’s already begun. He wants your support; what he’s been trying to tell you all along.” Gennie wasn’t being critical, but someone had to set Susan straight.

“You mean…the pills were for him like they were for you…it’s part of the…”

“I’m sorry, Mom…but you weren’t listening…I had…” Alan choked up and put his head on his arms on the table and began to weep.

“I know this is so much to take in all at once, but it’s really important that if….that now that Alan has come to this place, he has to act quickly, or whatever is going on in his development is addressed. At his…her age, she’s already ‘late to the game.’”

Sue looked puzzled, and Meav put her hand on Sue’s arm.

“Most children have already begun prescribed hormonal therapy by puberty.”

“She’s…" Gennie spoke, searching for a tactful way of putting it. Meav nodded and continued.

“Your daughter has not progressed in that regard; something that the doctor can explore with her. We can recommend Gennie’s doctor plus a good therapist to help you with this, Susan.” Lainie had buried her face in her hands and was sobbing. As if the delay was somehow her fault.

“I…” Susan looked over at her weeping child and her own face grew warm and red as she began to tear up.

“I didn’t know…Alan…please forgive me…I just didn’t know.”

“She knows, though, Mrs. Peterson…your daughter has known for a while, and you have to trust her…like I asked before… she knows. Okay?” By then, the tears were coming so fast that Sue was struggling just to see Gennie, but she nodded.

“We’ll be happy to do anything we can to help, okay, honey?” Meav leaned closer and hugged Sue, who nodded once again.

“It’s going to be okay.”

Sunday evening at the Peterson home...

She had listened to violin concertos all day, missing her viola before the fact as she considered her options. Sighing deeply, the girl sat down and pulled the instrument close, almost as if it was a sacred moment. She tilted her head slightly and began to play along with the recording…very sad and moving but hopeful… Beethoven’s 7th Symphony, the second movement.

She had all of the strings memorized, but cello was now her instrument; not so much of choice, but of necessity. And she decided then and there if she needed to play…then she would embrace her new love with as much enthusiasm as her viola had once enjoyed. And for the first time in her brief life, Elaine Peterson had hope.

That week...

The girl seemed almost giddy as the bow glided on the strings. She had to recall the piano from memory since she had the sound to the CD player turned down. Beethoven's Sonata for Cello and Piano in F-Major. A bit of an elevation of mood for her; not quite bright, but nowhere near gloomy. She looked forward to showing them that she not only could play cello, but that she was 'that good,' as they say. In real life she held herself in very little regard, but her music gave her confidence that she gained nowhere else in life.

That confidence was painfully difficult to sustain, especially now that her other talents, as well as her identity, seem to be called into question; first by circumstances and sadly, she felt, perhaps by those she loved. She played the piece over and over, almost like a comforting favorite lullaby at bedtime.

And she played so as not to think and feel. Try as she may, between the sheer fatigue from the playing and the lack of sleep over several days, she stopped halfway during the fourth run-through and she began to cry hard enough to drop her cello to the floor only to fall beside it, weeping.

Further into the week...at the Peterson home...

Ase’s Death from Peer Gynt was playing moderately in the background. Susan covered one ear and spoke into her cell phone.

“Al?…Sue…are you free for dinner Sunday? Alan has some things he wants to talk over with us, and it would be easier if he could tell us together… no…nothing like that..school stuff…yeah…okay…two thirty okay? Alright…yes…Love you, too. Bye”

“I hope this works,” Susan turned to her child, who was debating how to tell her father that she was a young woman.

“They say immersion is the best way to teach a new language, right?” Familiarity had been brushed aside as a daughter looked up at her mother instead of the usual boy and his mother.

“I’m speaking a new language, Mom…you’ve been speaking it all your life, and I need you to jump in and talk to me like I’m from the same place as you…it’s the only way I can…the way you can help me…” Where once Alan Peterson might have sat, Elaine Peterson…Petronova she had mused…Lainie had taken his place.

“What do you want me to say, honey? This is not easy for either of us. I can’t just set aside years of my life to suit your needs…” She bit her tongue, trying not to cry. Lainie winced at the rebuke.

“It’s not like I can’t see you this way…it’s just that it’s so new…so different. When you were born…you were my baby boy…your birth certificate said as much. You may have been a girl all along, but my heart doesn’t know that child…at least in that way.”

She shook her head; the tears were flowing freely and she felt both guilt and confusion over the strangeness of it all.

“Honey…I’m trying, and we’re going to get where we both need to go, but it’s not going to be without challenges and obstacles along the way. Please…”

She turned away, but she didn’t turn her back on her daughter so much as turn to seek some sort of sense; as if facing Lainie would confuse and befuddle her thinking.

“Mom…look at me…I’m the same person… plea? I’m the cello that plays counter-point to the melody; I support….I’m not in front anymore…Alan’s gone, Mom…I’m here, and I need you to listen to me…”

She began to sob and buried her face in a pillow from the couch. It was almost too much to bear. She felt shame over her needs; as if being herself was being selfish.

“I know…God, I know…please help me,”Susan said Lainie watched as her mother stood stock still and raised her hands in the air, and she realized the plea wasn’t to her, but a prayer to God. Susan began to shake; a small tremor that culminated in her falling to the floor, weeping. Lainie rushed to her side.

“Mom…I’m so sorry…this isn’t right…I’m so sorry. I’ll go…” She wasn’t going to go change her clothes, but she felt responsible for her mother’s pain in the same manner her mother felt responsible for the devastation the divorce had wrought with her child. She wasn’t merely going to put on a tee shirt and sweats; she was prepared to abandon herself. Susan’s hand grabbed Lainie’s wrist as she pulled the girl to the floor and embraced her, weeping.

“Mommy…please…I have to go…I have to go.” Too much guilt spread over three people when two were to blame but none was guilty. The girl went to stand, but her mother had locked her fingers and held tight.

“No…Alan…Alan….Oh God….my baby….” She rocked back and forth; her movements at once jarring to the girl, but gradually the laments became a lullaby of sorts as Susan spoke her child’s name for the first time, over and over.

“My baby…Elaine…Lainie….Oh God, forgive me…please.” Her words, while soft and nearly a whisper, became a prayer to be heard by the One who was listening all along. The same one who had formed her child in her womb had done the same for her as well.

“Mommy…I’m so sorry.” Both requesting forgiveness when neither was guilty. Both seeking absolution when their very embrace was proof that forgiveness was not only possible, but was working in them.

They sat on the floor and hugged, without word as the music almost played an accompaniment; the sadness of Grieg that had played like a dirge… perhaps for Alan’s death…was supplanted by the bright hope of Tchaikovsky’s Serenade, almost as if new life had entered their living room.

The music permeated the two like a rain shower replenishes a dry flower bed. The notes at first bounced off their hearts, but gradually they were absorbed as the two rested in each other's arms.

“Mom…what are am I going to tell Dad?” The girl tried not to cry; as if she were betraying the bright mood of Pyotr Illytch, but she sobbed into her mother’s breast.

“We…We are going to tell him that his daughter has decided to major in Cello.” Sue shrugged her shoulders in hopes that her ex-husband would be as receptive as she finally had become. Her prayers were about to be answered as he would be confronted with the truth about his child, but how receptive he would be remained to be seen. Tchaikovsky’s frenetic pace seemed almost a prelude to the confrontation they hoped would not take place.

Sunday afternoon...

Al kissed Sue on the cheek as he entered the house, pausing long enough to stand and smile. It was his routine whenever he visited the family home, hoping still to win her heart enough to at least attempt to rekindle their marriage. Actually rekindle was incorrect, since they’d already been divorced and ostensibly moved on. Al never gave up hope even as Susan ran through two quick and disposable relationships; her being the disposee.

“So what’s cookin’ Babe?”

He asked that question almost every time he had returned to the house for the awkward but necessary “let’s be civil for the sake of our son” meal. The comment was bordering on trite, but coming with his bright smile and welcoming tone, it actually was something to look forward to with each visit.

“Baked ziti with sausage on the side,” Sue remarked. Her face grew warm at the touch of his lips. She had never stopped loving him, even if they found they couldn’t live together. They’d even cheated in a way by having a brief but tumultuous affair with each other only weeks after the divorce was finalized.

“Sounds wonderful, honey.” He smiled again and quickly scanned the living room.

“Where’s Alan?”

“Oh, down the hall.” She hadn’t meant to be deceptive, but the pronouns and nouns and even Elaine’s name just didn’t roll off the tongue yet.

“We’re going to have some company; I hope you don’t mind.” Susan almost shrugged in apology.

“I thought we were going to talk about Alan’s college….what’s going on.” Al looked disappointed; he loved his son, and would have done anything for him, but he also felt the need for privacy, and not just to talk about the past or the future.

“Some friends are coming over; their daughter is already here now…down the hall.” She used her hand in a broad gesture before continuing.

“Genevieve has gone through some of the same challenges…I asked them to come so we could discuss the options.” She avoided the name and the pronouns once again.

“Okay…I guess.” He half-frowned.

“What?” She anticipated an argument, but his tone was understanding though disappointed.

“I was hoping to talk to you…” He smiled and she finished his sentence.

“About us? Al…we already discussed this. You and I have changed, and both for the better. We get along great even if…”

“Part of what I wanted to talk to you about was that I got a promotion.” She tilted her head in question and he continued.

“I’m going to be able to pay more support, and I got a bonus that’s going all to back payments. I want to do right by you and Alan, and now maybe I can. I’m so sorry.”

He hoped this turn of events might serve to change her mind and he was prepared to continue pleading his case when he was interrupted by the doorbell. Sue smiled and shrugged her shoulders in apology once again before going to the door.

“Hello, Meav…Sean…This is my hus…my ex-husband Al. Al, these are Meav and Sean O’Hara. Their daughter works over at Perugino’s as a server, too.” Meav stepped closer and offered her hand to Al, which he promptly but softly shook. Sean shook Al’s hand as well and scanned the living room in much the same manner as Al had only minutes before.

“Something smells delicious,” Meav said, noting the aroma coming from the kitchen. She held up a Tupperware container slightly.

“Is that the peach pie you told me about? I’ve got vanilla ice cream for that as well.” Sue smiled and walked into the kitchen with Meav.

“I’ve got to say, your kid really can play. Violin all the way to double bass from what I’ve heard. You must be proud.” Sean said with only the slightest hint of Kilkenny in his accent.

“I am. And he’s got a full ride to Illinois…he’s a miler…a rare thing indeed since they’ve been sorta stingy with their athletic scholarships lately. Sean smiled, wondering how well Al would take the news that the track scholarship had been revoked.

“Dinner is just about ready. Why don’t you guys sit down and I’ll serve the salad, okay?” She smiled nervously, hoping her face wasn’t turning red.

“Meav? Would you mind going down the hall and telling those two that dinner is ready?” Meav nodded and was off down the hall. Sue came into the dining room and placed a large salad bowl on the table.

“Dressing is there…help yourselves.” She nodded in the direction of the bottles of ranch and Italian before hurrying back to the kitchen.

“I’ll just get the pitcher of iced tea and I’ll be back in a moment,” she said. Sean handed the salad bowl to Al as Meav walked into the dining room accompanied by two girls. The first of the two entered the room; appearing to be in her early twenties; a bit boyish but pretty. She wore blue jeans and a black top under a green Eisenhower jacket with flower appliques on the epaulets.

“Hi, I’m Gennie.” She nearly added ‘you must be…’ but thought better of it. Standing in the doorway was a girl of about seventeen or so. She looked nervous.

“Oh…you have two daughters.” Al turned to Meav, who had sat down. She shook her head ‘no.’ He turned back and looked at the girl again.

She wore blue jeans and a turquoise shell under a hip-length purple cardigan. She wore little makeup, giving her a pretty but ‘natural’ look. Her hair was longish and she was smiling. And she looked very familiar, even if the hair and clothes didn’t. Al stared at the girl, whose nervousness grew with each moment of scrutiny until he stood up abruptly and blurted out.

“Son of a Bitch!”

The girl shrugged once and burst into tears and ran back down the hallway.

Al’s outburst was quickly accompanied by a loud crash and the sound of breaking glass as Sue dropped the pitcher of iced tea.

“Oh, Hell NO!... Son of a Bitch!”

Moments later...

A sort of quiet commotion began to unfold. Gennie ran down the hall after Lainie while Meav walked into the kitchen and Sean put his hand on Al’s back as Al sat back down at the dining room table, stunned.

“I thought you were going to let us help with the ‘reveal,” Susan? What happened?” Meav said as she grabbed a broom from the corner and began sweeping up the broken glass. Sue stood off to the side with her hand to her mouth. She leaned closer and tried to whisper ‘loudly,’ which just ended up as her normal “inside” voice.

“I don’t know…I told the girls they could ‘dress’ for the occasion, but only after dinner and after we saw how Al would react to the news. I still haven’t even told him about the scholarships and school. Oh, God, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“It’s okay, darlin’…We can figure this out. Why don’t you sit down at the table? We’re still all going to have to eat. Maybe there’s some way we can salvage this.” The wry half-smile on her face almost said, “Keep your fingers crossed.” She put the broom and dustpan aside and ushered Sue into the dining room and sat her down, coincidentally or purposefully across from Al, who appeared as stunned if not more.

“Al…I’m sorry…I...don’t know what to say.” She started to cry…the first time Al had seen her cry in over five years. Granted they were divorced and their contact had predictably been reduced, but she didn’t even cry at her mother’s funeral, at least in public.

“Christ, Sue…what the…what’s going on. Is this some sort of joke?” Al already knew it wasn’t a joke, but wanted it to be some cruel or foolish taunt instead of the truth.

“We were…going…to tell you. I’m so sorry.”

“Jesus Christ, Sue…what have you been doing to my son?” A fair if completely erroneous assumption, which she countered with,

“Where have you been, Al? Where the hell do you have the right to ask that question?” Her face turned red, and she was mixing anger with sadness and embarrassment as she continued.

“I’ve been trying so hard to keep things going. Did you fill out the applications? Did you see to the lessons? When was the last time you went to a recital?” It was degenerating into a He Makes Excuses/She Makes Excuses quickly until Meav interrupted with a simple,

“Dinner is served.” She placed the large casserole of baked ziti on the table and continued.

“I don’t know either one of you that well,” she said as she shook her head. The word came out “oither;” her accent, mostly dormant after thirty years in the States, grew a bit stronger whenever she “got her Irish up,” as they say.

“But you’re focusing on yourselves instead of your precious child down the hall way. Now...I’m going to lay some ground rules here, so it doesn’t become all about you two. Think of her for once besides yourselves…” She smiled as they sat quiet, almost like chastised schoolchildren.

“First…This isn’t about you although you might think it is.” Sean put his hand to his face to cover his broad grin as his wife continued.

“We’ve got two well-meaning but very self-centered parents here. Both of you are focused on your jobs, which is okay for the most part, but it can’t be at the exclusion of your child’s needs.” She turned to Al.

“You’re away so often, that you don’t see things for what they really are…what they’ve been for some time. Now I’m not complainin’ but my Sean here has been to more concerts with the child than you have.”

Sue started to smile and Meav turned to her.

“Oh, no you don’t. You’re out of town with your own concerts…which is okay. But what do you do with your time when you aren’t out of town? From what you tell me, you’ve got a lot of stuff going on when you are home.“ She sighed and continued, holding up her hand like an impatient parent.

“We had every intention of sitting down and doing this by talking, but don’t you see? The child must have felt she couldn’t get anywhere, because obviously you haven’t been listening…So she decided to show you in the only way she knew would reach you? Sorta like getting’ dowsed with a glass of cold water. Well, it got your attention.

Now we could do this like they do in the movies or TV. Sue can just go into the kitchen and start cleaning and Al can go home, feeling like he’s the hurt one.”

Al actually put his head down on the table, starting to feel both a little ill and a great deal convicted. Sue was only a bit more ‘defiant’ until Meav shot her a playful mock-glare.

“You…you’re so right.” Sue reached over and went to touch Al’s hand. She pulled it back for a moment, tentatively considering withdrawing altogether before patting Al’s wrist.

“Al? Listen for a second, okay, honey?” She hadn’t called him that in that way since the divorce.

“We’ve been looking at a son when…we’ve had a daughter all along. I am so sorry…I should have been more attentive. Meav is right.” Al still had his head down and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I should have seen her… She’s been in my…the house with me all along. I should have seen this and said something…to her and to you.” Sue’s shoulders shuddered slightly as she patted Al on the hand. Al raised his head and looked at Sue. His eyes were filled with tears.

“I’m so sorry,” he said haltingly. He looked up at Meav who just glanced over at Sue as if to say, “it’s not me you should be apologizing to.” He turned again to Sue and half-smiled.

“I’ve been trying so hard to get us back together that I haven’t even realized just who ‘us’ was.” He shook his head as he leaned sideways a bit to look down the hallway. I sorta saw this coming and I didn’t want to believe it.” Sue leaned back just a bit and sighed.

“What do you mean…? I don’t understand?” Her eyes went out of focus as as she wondered just what Al was going to reveal.

“The last time he was over, he was asking questions. Things we hardly ever talk about, but I guess now it was almost like he was giving hints. Stuff like, 'Were you happy when I was born,' and 'What if I don’t do well at running for Illinois, Dad?' There was one time a few months ago where he and I were watching a show… I don’t even remember what it was about. He’d gotten into his pajamas…what eighteen year old boy still wears pajamas. I was looking at the TV and I heard him sigh… it must have been some emotional moment in the movie… you know how they like to slip romance in between explosions and car crashes.”

Sue looked at him oddly, as if she already knew what he was about to say.

“Anyway…I look over at him and he’s sitting on the couch with his legs curled up under him and he’s got this intense look about him, like the moment in the movie is really affecting him, and I thought… Jeez… he looks… I almost said acts…just like his mother.” Sue’s eyes widened as she could actually see the scene play out in her mind.

“I don’t know… it’s like it was in front of me all along and I didn’t want to see it.” Sue nodded.

“I think I’ve known for some time,” she said as she shook her head. The tears streamed down her cheeks.

“I was so afraid that I had done something wrong. Like I had been a bad mother…” She paused, but she continued to think,

“A bad wife.”

Al shook his head no as if to argue with her assumption about herself, almost knowing what she was thinking.

“You’ve been a great mother to her.” Al’s eyes widened as soon as he spoke; he had said it, and there was no turning back, happily in a way, even if the implications were huge and perhaps challenging.

“You’ve been a great mother to her… yeah… I guess I said that, didn’t I. I may be slow, but I’m not stupid. We’ve got a daughter, Sue, and I guess we’ll have to…. Work together to help her sort things out.” He smiled at the word ‘we’ll.”

“I guess we will.” She smiled as she patted his hand one last time. Meav turned to Sean and smiled, breathing out a relieved sigh. He smiled back and clasped his hand together in congratulations as he quietly mouthed,

“I love you.”

Meanwhile...

The two girls were sitting on the bed as Lainie cried.

“I really screwed up. He hates me. I’ll… Gennie, I don’t know what to do.” Lainie fell into her arms as Gennie patted her on the back.

“We’ll figure out something. I know he’s just shocked. Sean didn’t curse, but I swear to God both he and Mom had the same look on their faces that your Dad just had. You’ve told me how much your parents love you, right? Do you think that would change that much… Do you think they’d just stop loving you and change their minds… change their hearts?”

“I…I don’t know…” Lainie continued to weep. Had she looked up at Gennie at that moment, she would have noticed the girl’s expression had changed. While she still remained the supportive friend, the closeness of the moment served to draw her out in a way, and she began to cry without sound.

“I do.” Gennie thought to herself as she stifled a sob. “I know they have to love you more than I do…they’ve known you all your life… And if I love you this much they must love you…” She bit the inside of her mouth and buried her face in Lainie’s shoulder. Just a caring friend sympathizing in a difficult situation.

“Li…Listen, hun. You’ll be fine. Just a sec.” She got up and went into Laine’s bathroom. Lainie heard the water running before Gennie came out and sat back down on the bed next to her. She held up a washcloth and began to wipe the girl’s face; the cold water served to cool down the heat of Lainie’s shame. A simple gesture between best girlfriends, but it was almost painful as Gennie tried so hard to suppress her feelings for the girl.

“Th..thanks, Gen.” Lainie reached over hugged the girl quickly before breaking the embrace. Gennie took the cloth and wiped her own face. A knock came at the door.

“You two okay in there?” Meav called from the hallway.

“Yeah, Mom…I think so… we’ll be out in a minute," Gennie answered. She turned and smiled at Lainie before glancing around the room, as if looking for some clues to the puzzle that was playing out in real life for her friend. A few moments later her expression changed as she grinned.

“I’ve got an idea. Bear with me, okay?”

“Oh…okay.” Lainie nodded nervously.

“Here’s the plan.”

A few minutes later...

Al sat and stared at the dish of ziti in the middle of the table. There are times when in the midst of crisis, you can almost feel guilty for feeling hungry, especially when the food is right in front of you. They had talked for what seemed like hours but was only a few minutes. He turned away and sighed.

“Dad…Mom…I’m sorry.” Al turned around and his attention was drawn to the figures standing in the archway of the dining room. Sue turned around and looked and her eyes widened. She was quickly joined by Sean and Meav.

Gennie stood there next to Lainie along with…Alan? Gone were the girl-jeans and the turquoise top, replaced by boy-jeans and a black tee shirt. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail; not the kind that you’d find on a girl, but the kind that’s bound at the base of the neck, like a boy? And the makeup was gone as well. But it really wasn’t Alan.

“Oh, God…honey?” Sue said, viewing for the first time through the prism of the scene that had played out only a while ago. It wasn’t Alan standing there in ‘his’ clothes. It was their daughter Elaine, wearing boy’s clothes, almost as if she was going to a Halloween party. As awkward the previous hour had been for all the contrivance of their misunderstanding about their child, it was even more awkward as the contrivance was not the boy pretending to be a girl, as they’d believed. It was the contrivance of their daughter dressed in the wrong clothing, trying to be what she thought her parents wanted.

“Is…this okay?”

It may have been a clever idea, but the girl still was filled with the dread that they would say yes, ruining any future she might have had.

Her tears only served to reinforce everyone’s understanding of just how wrong they had been. Boys cry of course, but this wasn’t a boy crying over some justifiable but temporary hurt; this was a girl crying in anticipatory grief for the loss of her own life. Meav went to step forward but Sean put his hand on her shoulder with a cautious smile. She looked at Sue and Al and nodded.

“No…it’s not.” Al spoke softly with a slight shake of the head. He struggled as the tears began to flow.

“I’m sorry….Alan…” He shrugged his shoulders slightly, almost in apology before continuing.

“I’m sorry…. That’s not who you are. I don’t even know who you are, but ….” He choked back a sob.

“I know that the person we saw before…that’s who you are, and I’m sorry it took so long to realize. Please forgive me.” He put his arms on the table and rested his head on them, sobbing. Lainie stood shaking slightly. Gennie wanted to hug her, but she knew that the girl had to have the embraces that only her parents could provide for the healing she needed. Time enough, she hoped, to tell the girl exactly how she felt.

“Can you forgive us…forgive me for not listening to you.” Sue stood up and walked over to her daughter. She pulled the girl into a tight embrace and began to sob.

“I’m sorry…I am so…so sorry.” She wept. Lainie put her head on her mother’s chest.

“Oh, Mom…Mommy….” She began to weep as well as her mother’s embrace surrounded not only her arms, but her whole being.

“Mommy…” She kept saying it over and over; the security of her mother’s arms brought her back to a time and place that never existed for her where Mommies and little girls dwell.

And Sue felt something strangely familiar, recalling moments where the girl she was just getting to know had made appearances in the past. The day she came home and was disappointed about losing first chair to another violinist and felt the soft stroking of her hair by her child’s little hand. The soft kiss on her cheek by her thirteen year old in consolation over some now unremembered disappointment. The quiet but accurate complements and advice about her appearance by her fifteen year old.

“I should have seen…I should have known.” Sue said quietly as she pulled back a bit from the embrace; her eyes still filled with tears.

“I…I didn’t even know myself, Mom…how could you?” Lainie shook her head.

“I…I think there’s enough misplaced guilt to go around for everyone, don’t you think?” Meav interrupted. Sean shook his head no and Sue noticed the gesture.

“No, Sean…I think Meav is right. We’ve got to get off this stupid Guilt Carousel that we’ve been on for so long.”

She looked over at the table where Al had lifted his head. He smiled and went to get up. No group hug; Lainie went over and just grabbed his hand. It was almost as if she knew instinctively that a magical moment of hugging and kissing wasn’t what her father could handle just then; that would come with time. Al grabbed her hand and squeezed as he smiled. The first real communication between father and daughter said without words but still saying volumes.

“Dad…” She said it with a nod; an acknowledgement that something had taken place. Not ‘Daddy,” but “Dad;” a brand new ‘name’ for him just didn’t fit when the old name suited him perfectly well. Sometimes even the nicest of times and events and wonderful choices and discoveries still can’t be sustained when the parties involved run out of things to say. Insightful as ever, Meav solved their dilemma with a simple,

“I repeat, Dinner is served."

That night at the O'Hara home...

“Care to talk about it, Gen?” Sean said as he sat down next to his daughter. She looked over at him and shrugged her shoulders as if to say, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I may not say much, but I see things, darlin’. It was written all over your face…you’ve got your mother’s inability to hide your feelings. God help you if you ever decide to take up playin’ poker; you’ll end up in the poor house.”

“I’m…she’s….” Gennie was never at a loss for words or opinions, but at that moment she was unable to speak. Sean did her talking for her.

“You’re afraid that she’ll go away and you won’t have said what you need to say, right?” She nodded and tears came to her eyes.

“Listen, child…you’re her best friend; she knows that more certainly than most things, I expect. What’s the worst that could happen if you tell her you love her? Things would still be the same, just out in the open? But if you tell her and the best thing happens?

You already made the biggest leap of faith in your whole life when you came to me and your mother and told us about Genevieve. Right?”

He smiled and looked her over as if he were seeing her for the first time, recalling the moment Gary the son was replaced with Gennie the daughter. She nodded again, still tearful.

“Well, this is almost easy compared to that, since you already know she loves you. The thing is just how much, I expect, is what makes you fearful. One thing you can’t do that I can?"

“What…what’s that?”

“Well, Gennie darlin’ dear light of my life… I can watch for stuff that you can’t see ‘cause I know what to look for, bein’ how I’m so much older than you.” Even at fifty, Sean was as much grandfatherly as fatherly.

“I don’t understand…” She wiped her nose with her sleeve and shook her head.

“You know that look you’ve got whenever she walks into the room type of look? The one that says, ‘I’m so glad you’re here… I’m so relieved that you’re okay… I’m so happy you’re mine?’”

“Like you and Mom?” She smiled

“Yep..like me and your mother. Well, we’ve been at it for a while, and we know where we stand, so we don’t turn our heads in fear… we don’t have to sneak a glance or peek because we know we love each other, right?” Gennie nodded again.

“Well, you don’t have that security of knowing since you’ve never talked about it with her. So when she walks into a room you have that same look, but it’s toward me or your mom or her parents, but not to her. Well…“ He paused for effect, enjoying the playful teasing that would conclude with the truth. She looked at him and tilted her head in confusion.

“Let’s just say that you’re not the only one turnin’ her head these days.”

He lifted his shoulders slightly and laughed softly. She looked at him with the same confused expression. He gazed into her eyes and raised his right eyebrow slightly as if to say, “go ahead…I’ll wait…” She tilted her head again in thought. After a few seconds her eyes widened in discovery and she opened her mouth in amazement. The amazement quickly turned to wonder which quickly turned to shock which quickly turned to joy followed immediately by relief as she burst into tears. She buried her face in Sean’s sweater and began to sob.

“There, there, darlin’! I told you that it’ll be alright, aye? And since when am I ever wrong.”

He laughed softly and stroked her hair. And Meav stood in the doorway with her hand to her cheek, feeling her own tears as she watched the two loves of her life with affection and gratitude.

The Peterson home that night...

Sue walked into the living room to find that Al had fallen asleep on the couch, his head propped awkwardly on his hand against the back cushion. She smiled and shook her head, more at what she was feeling at the moment than his slumber. She grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over him. She leaned closer to give him a kiss on the forehead but thought better of it.

Smiling again, she stepped away, her hand brushing against his arm as she pulled back. They had hugged as cordial ‘exes’ more times than she could remember and certainly had hugged enough as platonic friends. But this touch, as brief as it was, seemed to evoke memories long past; affection long forgotten and love long dormant. She shook her head as if to doubt her feelings before walking away.

The girl played along with the CD … Rachmoninoff’s Vocalise; a favorite played by often since it was so poignant and bittersweet, much like her life. It had been put to words by Joel Sattler that lamented war and loss and sadness, but for her it was like it spoke to the war in her soul; the loss of years; the sadness of her own heart.

“You’ll be alright…I promise,” the image seemed to say to her. She shrugged her shoulders with a half-frown; almost disbelieving herself. She lay down and buried her face in her pillow. Weeping didn’t come until she closed her eyes and saw Gennie’s face before her. She sighed deeply before sobbing enough to shake the bed as she cried herself to sleep.

Crestwood High School. Mountaintop. PA, a few days later…

Jack Pietrowski sat behind the desk with his back turned to the door, looking for a CD from Coach Len’s collection on the shelf. A knock came at the door and without turning, he said,

“I’ll be right with you,” which was answered with,

“Coach?”

Lainie stood nervously by the door. She had elected to dress as her new self for this impromptu visit to her track coach. Nothing spectacular. A hip length oversize medium blue wool sweater over black leggings and boots. Jack continued with his back to the door, still searching until he spotted a worn case down at the bottom shelf.

“There…” he exclaimed. As he turned around, he focused on the CD player on the desk, still paying no heed to the figure by the door other than to remark,

“I’ve been wondering when you’d stop by, Alan. I’m sorry about the scholarship and all. Maybe you can do a walk on?” He slid the CD into the player and hit the play button before raising his head. The sound of Carlos Santana played quietly as he turned down the volume.

“Coach?”

Jack looked at his runner; the best 1500 Meter man he had ever seen in his time coaching, but was only slightly surprised to see someone else in the boy’s place.

“I…I heard things had changed, but I didn’t anticipate this,” Jack said, unfazed as the girl smiled nervously.

“What’s your name?” He asked it as if they were meeting for the first time, which really wasn’t far from the truth.

“Elaine…Lainie…” Alan had more than enjoyed running for Coach Jack; it was like having a favorite uncle for a mentor.

“Well, I am sorry that they reneged on the scholarship. I don’t suppose you’ll be running for a while, from what I heard.”

“No, sir.”

“It’s for the best,” he said with virtually no emotion in his voice, leaving the girl wondering what he meant, and then taking it entirely the wrong way. Lainie put her head down and rocked side to side, looking for an answer to his dismissive comment, but he surprised her.

“Lainie…” He paused. She shuddered. It was the first time anyone besides Gennie and both their families had called her by her ‘real’ name.

“I wanted you to know that it has been an absolute joy to be your coach. I wish you all the success in the world.” His voice was tender and almost fatherly; something that had been sorely lacking in recent years in her life. She shuddered again, nervously shifting from side to side again.

“I have a cousin who’s a nurse…she works with a practice in Montreal…where they help girls like you.” He smiled as she blinked back tears and grinned ever so slightly.

“I don’t begin to know everything about it, and I certainly don’t understand it all, but I think I can say two things for sure, okay?” It was as if he was asking permission to offer an opinion. She nodded but kept quiet.

“First, my cousin is a wonderful woman who is as kind as the day is long, and she’s as caring as anyone I’ve ever met. Since this is important to her, I figure it should be important to me, so it is, whether or not I understand.” He paused and smiled a toothy smile. She looked at him as if to say, ‘And?’

“I trust you…You’ve been one of the best things to happen to this school, and I’m proud to say I got to be a part of your life, even if for only a little while. With you, it was never about the running and all about the running; you run for the sheer joy, but you compete with a will like I’ve never seen. This new….thing? It’s just another challenge for you; one that I am sure you’ll face and win.” He paused in thought for a moment.

“My feeling is, you will know better than anyone else in the world what is best for you, so you have my complete support. He smiled and went to offer his hand, but pulled it back slightly, evoking a quizzical stare from the girl.

“Oh…this?” he said softly; looking at his hand. “My mother told me it’s always polite to let the lady offer her hand first.” He grinned and laughed as Lainie tilted her head in wonder. She held out her hand sheepishly and he shook it firmly, almost as if he was saying farewell.

“You’re going to be okay, kid. I’m sure of that.” He smiled again and reached back to the bookshelf once again, but this time he knew exactly where to look. Pulling a CD from the shelf, he turned and handed it to her.

“Jean-Luc Ponty….Jazz violin…I think you’ll like it.” She took it gingerly, feeling almost overwhelmed by the kindness this man had extended.

“Thanks, Coach.” Nothing had changed and everything had changed between them. The girl sounded exactly like the boy, and her demeanor hadn’t so much changed as seen in a different context. Everything at that moment, at least for Lainie and Jack Pietrowski, made entire sense; like noticing the blue of the sky or smell of salt air by the sea.

“It has been my pleasure, Miss Peterson.” She nearly winced in embarrassment at the new title, as if she had won an award.

“Thank you.” he said and turned slightly as she stepped toward the door.

“And Lainie?” She stopped and faced him, noticing that smile once again.

“God bless!”

Later, at the office of Linda Carmellini. Music Director...

“Come in, sweetie!” Linda smiled broadly as Lainie stepped into her office.

“I’m sorry…” She looked down at her apparel apologetically.

“What…for not doing it sooner?” Linda laughed. Lainie shuddered and turned her head, almost embarrassed.

“Honey…I didn’t know…I swear, but nothing surprises me about you. You are just a wonder to me. I am amazed, now that I look at you, that we didn’t see this sooner. And I am so sorry for that. I think in trying to get you to fit in as a musician, I really did you a disservice as a person.” Linda sighed.

“That…that’s okay…I didn’t know myself until a while ago, and even then I wasn’t sure.”

“Still, we need to support you kids more as kids than as opportunities. The music won’t be worth anything if the artist is pushed aside. I am truly sorry…?” Linda tilted her head and stared at the girl’s face.

“Oh…it’s Elaine…Lainie, actually.”

“Lainie is my sister’s name…”

She looked at Linda before closing her eyes for a moment, remembering another who called her that often. She sighed in frustration.

“Oh, I’m sorry…I presume too much,” Linda said, noticing the girl’s expression.

“Oh…no…that’s alright… in fact, I kinda like it. Like we’re friends.” She thought again of the name, and breathed out with another long sigh.

“We are friends….Lainie. I think the world of you…I always have. I just didn’t know it was you, you know?” Lainie nodded with a smile, but her mind was elsewhere.

“Listen…just because they don’t have an opening for viola…doesn’t mean you can’t wow them anyway. And you play cello better than some of the pros I know. I wouldn’t worry.”

“I’m…I’m not going to go to school this fall. I’ve got to take some time…” She didn’t mean to, but she looked down; almost looking down on herself.

“Oh…I understand.” Linda smiled politely, wondering why the girl was upset. It dawned on her, and she tapped her desk. Lainie looked up and shook her head.

“I’m sorry…I was someplace else…”

“Listen, honey…you’ve got nothing to be sorry about. I wanted to tell you something even before you mentioned about next Fall, but now I think it means even more…” She paused before standing up. Walking around the desk, she stepped closer to the girl and hugged her. Lainie looked at her in confusion.

“It’s never been about the music…and it’s all about the music. Because the music is part of you…It’s not you, but only your voice. You speak with such eloquence, but with such heart and soul as well. I think that the time off…at least from studying and all that…” Linda shook her head, which earned her another confused look.

“You find out who you are…do what you need to do for yourself…become who you’ve been all along, I suppose…and the music will follow…and the opportunities will follow the music, does that make sense?”

Lainie nodded and smiled. For once, things actually did make sense, even if they didn’t come together as planned or anticipated.

“Elaina Petrova, da?” Linda smiled and laughed softly. She grabbed the girl’s hands with her own and put her head against Lainie’s.

“These are only instruments as well, dear one.” She let go of Laine’s left hand and patted the girl’s chest with her right hand, saying,

“This is what matters most, Elaine. This part of you has been what makes you who you are…and what gives life to your music. That hasn’t changed even if other things have. You see?” She tilted her head and grinned.

“It has been my pleasure to work with you, and I hope that you’ll find exactly what you’re looking for…” A knock came at the door.

“Linda? Annette called while you were out… apparently Mitzi couldn’t wait for the vet visit and there are schnoodle babies in your closet?” The secretary laughed. Linda nodded and looked around the office. She spotted her purse and picked it up.

“Well, it seems I’m a grandmother…”

“I understand.” Lainie started for the door, but Linda called out,

“Lainie?” She turned and Linda smiled at her before saying,

“God bless!”

That evening…at the O’Hara home…

“So what did the doc say?” Gennie handed Lainie a bottle of SoBe Mint Tea and sat down at the kitchen table.

“I’m sorta fortunate…being ‘small’ is what she said. By the time the year is over, things ought to be where they’re supposed to be…she sees no reason why things won’t be okay with Dr. Phardu and Dr. Stevens, you know? Of course you know.” Lainie put her head down a bit and stared at the table.

“What’s wrong…I know that look.” Gennie put her hand on Lainie’s wrist. She didn’t pull away, but her arm tensed up.

“Lainie…what’s wrong?” The girl lifted her head and she had tears in her eyes; her expression looked fearful.

“I…” She shook her head. Gennie squeezed her wrist and said,

“Lainie…please…you can tell me.” She wished and hoped to God that Lainie had come to realize that she could tell Gennie anything…well, almost anything.

“I can’t….”

“Don’t say that,” Gennie thought. She repeated instead, “You can tell me.”

“I…I need to know…if I do this.”

“Don’t say ‘if’!” Gennie thought.

“I need to know you’re…” Lainie looked away, her face now awash with tears.

“That I’m with you? You know I’m with you.” She went to touch Lainie’s cheek but pulled her hand back; almost as fearful as the girl whose hand she held.

“It’s…it’s…” Lainie wasn’t at a loss for words; it was the hearing of what she had to say that frightened her…scared her beyond belief over what might happen if she actually spoke what was in her heart.

“What, honey?” Gennie shook ever so slightly at the term of endearment.

“I need to know you’ll…be with me.” Gennie went to speak but Lainie pulled her wrist away and held her hand up.

“No…no.” She nearly sobbed, but continued with a halt….

“I….I need you…”

“Yes?”

“No…I can’t!” Lainie put her head on the table and gave way to the overwhelming emotion of the moment. Gennie put her hand on Lainie’s head. She pulled it back before placing once again on the girl’s head, stroking her hair gently.

“It’s okay…don’t worry…It’s okay?” Gennie had no idea whether or not it really would be okay, but she so desperately cared for Lainie that it should be…it had to be okay.”

“You don’t understand…I need…you. Oh, god…I’m so sorry…I’m so sorry.” Lainie turned her head away from Gennie and began to talk haltingly.

“You…I shouldn’t have said anything…I’ve ruined our friendship…I hate myself. I’m so sorry…” She kept shaking her head and apologizing until the Gennie stood up and stood over her weeping form.

“Ruin it…Oh, Lainie…you haven’t ruined it…you’ve made it…better!” She leaned closer and put her head down on the table, facing Lainie, almost like a child would with a friend who needed solace and comfort.

“Real…really?” Lainie sobbed.

“Really.” Gennie said softly before easing her head closer and kissing her friend…now so much more.

“Really.”

That night...

She sat in the chair in the room, almost awash with tears; her first recital in a way. Korngold was so romantic; her mother had played many of his themes as lullabies when she was little. But tonight, it was all about her audience. She tried not to open her eyes; she was so used to playing with the instrument 'singing to her' as she was swept away.

But tonight her eyes were wide open as she drank in not only the sweet melody of the music, but the sight of her love sitting but a few feet away. Gennie shook her head at Lainie, not in surprise, since she knew how lovely a sound Lainie could coax from the violin.

She just couldn't believe that such a gift was not only Lainie's, but now...in a way, hers as well. She put her hand to her face and began to weep. A moment later the music stopped and she felt the soft caress of a hand to her cheek...

"All mine..." the voice sang softly in her ear, followed by kisses, soft and sweet as the melody she had just heard.

"All mine..."

To be continued in Three Girls - Book Four
Next: Book Three - Danni's Dream

Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 35
composed by Erich Wolfgang Korngold
As performed by
Itzhak Perlman
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TX5cdijuzjs

Celtic Steps
Jean-Luc Ponty and Band
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6EdKGBy-LWY

Vocalise, Op. 34, No. 14
Composed by Sergei Rachmaninoff
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b0FpMjsBerY

Cello Sonata No. 1 Op. 5/1 in F major
by Ludwig Van Beethoven
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HGJaymjJcFo

Peer Gynt Suite No. I, Op. 46 -
Ase's Death i obrazy Muncha
by Edvard Grieg
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2aKxf1h5r4g

Serenade for Strings in C Maj. Op.48
Fourth Movement
by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x5J3duJIx9Y

Symphony #7, Second Movement in A Major, Opus 92
composed by Ludwig Van Beethoven
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWTrJrEwSCo

Concerto #26 in Do Maggiore, RV 479
composed by Antonio Vivaldi
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aXBWrNN64z8