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Chapters 13, 14 & 15: Jo O’Donnell has passed away at the age of 90 and there is quite a gathering of friends and relatives. A big surprise is when Katherine and Sean both show up with their children and grandchildren. Not only that, but Katherine is accompanied by her lover and de facto husband, the recent Prime Minister of Great Britain. They have been together for more than 30 years. More of their story will be revealed in The Redhead and the PM to be released late in 2010. Mike O’Donnell passes on soon after Jo.

Helen performs with the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra and gets rave reviews. She also performs with several other orchestras around the country while she is still a student at Humboldt. Her Aunt Fanny and Grandmother had wanted her to go to Julliard right out of high school; however, Helen still had issues and wasn’t ready to leave the nest. She finally goes to Julliard to receive the finishing she knows she needs.

Her reputation has definitely preceded her and Helen is asked to assist an undergraduate student who is having trouble adjusting to Julliard and personal problems. Helen, who lives off campus, takes her in and a lasting friendship is formed.

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Introduction:

Chapters 13, 14 & 15: Jo O’Donnell has passed away at the age of 90 and there is quite a gathering of friends and relatives. A big surprise is when Katherine and Sean both show up with their children and grandchildren. Not only that, but Katherine is accompanied by her lover and de facto husband, the recent Prime Minister of Great Britain. They have been together for more than 30 years. More of their story will be revealed in The Redhead and the PM to be released late in 2010. Mike O’Donnell passes on soon after Jo.

Helen performs with the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra and gets rave reviews. She also performs with several other orchestras around the country while she is still a student at Humboldt. Her Aunt Fanny and Grandmother had wanted her to go to Julliard right out of high school; however, Helen still had issues and wasn’t ready to leave the nest. She finally goes to Julliard to receive the finishing she knows she needs.

Her reputation has definitely preceded her and Helen is asked to assist an undergraduate student who is having trouble adjusting to Julliard and personal problems. Helen, who lives off campus, takes her in and a lasting friendship is formed.

Author's Note:There are references to characters in previous novels, and I would strongly recommend that you read them if you haven’t already done so. Musetta Gigliotti O’Donnell is mentioned and referred to several times. Although she has been deceased for many years before this story begins, her influence is very strong. ‘Musetta’s Waltz’ is not very long and will give some important background. Musetta is a wonderful transgendered woman who overcomes extreme adversity.

This story is the fifth in the series and to date, the entire series covers nearly 100 years and five generations. The first story is “The Heart of the Beholder” and deals with the early life of Mike and Jo O’Donnell. “The Narragansett Fork” is about Fanny, the O’Donnell’s adopted daughter and a rather remarkable individual. It is in this book that we first meet Musetta. “Musetta’s Waltz” is her autobiography and the third book in the series. “Who Is Sylvia” is the story about Sylvia O’Donnell and how Phil Esterházy wins her. That brings us to the current story, which takes place 37 years or so after the end of the previous story.

Being transgendered or intersexed is not the main theme of this story. This is a story about a rather large family where two people happened to be intersexed and another, now deceased, was transgendered. This is a story about how people find love, over and above everything else.

There is a little mystery that shouldn’t be too hard to figure out. The clues are there. There are 34 chapters plus a prologue and epilogue. The story is complete. I am not sure how it will be posted. Regardless of the voting and comments, or lack there of, I will post it until completion. I’ll try not to let hurt feelings get in the way.

My thanks must go to Holly H. Hart for taking time from her harried life to correct the multitude of errors made while creating this story.

This work is copyrighted by the author and any publication or distribution without the written consent of the author is strictly prohibited. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of the characters to persons living or dead is coincidental.

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Although Jo didn’t see them, Sean and his lifelong companion, Helga, were able to get there before she finally slipped completely away. MJ, her three children and some of their families had managed to arrive in time, also. MJ was 87, but acted 67. She was now the matriarch of the Schmidt family, and her children managed the operation of the family cruise business which had expanded considerably over the years from what had been just one of the better river cruise companies in Europe.

Katie and Sir John arrived with all their children and their families. Sir John had retired from politics several years before, and he and Kate made frequent trips to California since. There was a bit of notoriety that still followed Kate and the former Prime Minister of Great Britain. The tabloids every once in a while still tried to make something of their relationship, but it didn’t matter to either of them anymore. Sir John Farnsworthy and Kate had been lovers for more than 30 years, living as husband and wife openly after the first ten years of a very secretive relationship. Sir John’s wife had been institutionalized with untreatable schizophrenia since early in their marriage, and Sir John refused to divorce her. She committed suicide shortly after Sir John became Prime Minister. Sir John and Kate had never felt that getting married was necessary even after the death of John's wife.

Sir John had received a Knighthood for his considerable personal investment in various environmental projects. Some major ones included land restoration from the areas devastated by coal mining, and reestablishment of the salmon runs in southern England. He also oversaw much of the reforestation of the moors in southwest England, areas that had been devastated for centuries by uncontrolled logging.

Katie had been attending a post concert cocktail party in London when she noticed an unaccompanied, rather handsome gentleman who was carrying on a very animated conversation with several other gentlemen. The discussion was political in nature, and Katie listened in. She liked the way the man who had caught her attention was supporting some of the causes Katie thought were important.

She turned to the conductor of that evening’s concert. “Maestro, who is that handsome gentleman talking politics with those three older men?”

“That would be John Farnsworthy. His family is a big supporter of the arts, and he is a recently elected Member of Parliament. His family endowed this concert series. Terrible tragedy he has to deal with. His wife is quite insane. She tried to kill him. She said Sadam Hussein came to her and told her she had to kill all the nobility and royalty. Apparently, King William was on the list as was his brother, Prince Harry. She stabbed John in the back with an ice pick. It was bloody awful. Fortunately, the pick missed all the important stuff.

“John has taken all this rather hard, and mopes around a lot. His family hopes his being an MP will distract him a bit. He refuses to divorce his wife, his being a Catholic and all. How he won the seat is beyond me.”

Katie noticed John was looking around for the wait staff as his glass was empty. “What do you think he’s drinking?”

“Probably a gin and tonic.”

Katie excused herself, went to the bar and ordered a gin and tonic. She carried it on a tray to John and presented it to him. He hardly looked up as he placed the empty glass on the tray, and took the new drink from it. In higher English society, the wait staff is seldom thanked for providing service. That is their job, and one is not thanked for doing one’s job.

“John, you do know who brought you that drink?”

“No, why should I. That was just some of the help.”

“Not quite. That was Ms. Katherine O’Donnell, the pianist at tonight’s concert.”

John looked up to see the stunning redhead talking to the concert master. “Excuse me gentlemen, I think I need to talk to someone.”

He walked up to the two who were talking about something musical, stood there for a moment taking in the discussion, but mostly taking in Katherine’s beauty. The concert master, recognizing John, turned to Katherine. “Ms. O’Donnell, I would like you to meet John Farnsworthy, MP. His family is a big supporter of the Symphony. John, this is Ms. Katherine O’Donnell, this evening’s soloist.”

Katherine extended her hand, and he took it in his. His hands were large and strong, but soft at the same time. “Ms. O’Donnell, thank you for a wonderful performance. One doesn’t hear the Dvorak Piano Concerto performed very often, and after the way you played it tonight I am at a loss to understand why. That was truly wonderful.”

“Thank you, I enjoy doing some of the less played works by the masters.” Then changing the subject to him, “I understand you are an environmentalist.”

“Why yes, I suppose so. How did you know?”

“I was eavesdropping before I brought you that drink. I come from a family of environmentally concerned people. My little sister is a forest ranger and plant biologist. I think being doctors, musicians and educators are the only things we know how to do.”

“Your older sister is Frances Essegian, isn’t she? We’re going to do her Symphony next year. That is a wonderful work, especially from someone so young. It’s a lot like something Brahms would have written. Her style of orchestration is so much like his.”

The two gradually lost focus of everything and everyone around them. They finally realized there were few guests left when the help came around and took their glasses.

“May I see you home?”

“Well, I was riding with Maestro Hirschorn, but I don’t see him.”

“He left a while ago. I told him when you were in the loo that I would see you home. I hope you don’t mind. Where should I take you?”

“I have a flat in Kensington.”

They drove through the mostly deserted street of late night London. He had no trouble finding her place.

“Park in the car park; here’s my pass card. My spot is empty. My Vauxhall’s in the shop. Would you like to come up for some coffee?”

“Well, I don’t know. It is getting late.”

“Please come up. Tomorrow is Sunday, and besides, I know you have no one to go home to.”

“You seem to know a bit about me.”

“Not nearly as much as I am going to know by tomorrow.”

She almost forcibly pulled him to the small passenger lift. Her flat was on the top floor, and she led him to the door and put her keys in his hand. Once inside the door, she turned and gently pulled him to her. Their kisses were tentative at first, but became more and more insistent. She led him to the bedroom, discarding her shoes on the way. She was five feet eleven inches in her stocking feet and could look him straight in the eye.

She started to undress him, and he raised his hands to assist. She slapped them away. “This is on me tonight. There will be other times, and we can do it your way. Tonight, it’s my way.”

She would undo a button and kiss him. His black bow tie was a clip-on, but it got a bigger kiss. Her gown had somehow slipped to the floor, and her breasts were freed from the built in bra. She lifted his hands to her large, lightly freckled breasts. Her areolae were large and pink, as were her nipples. He leaned over and drew one into his mouth, gently caressing her hard protuberance with his tongue.

“I didn’t say you could do that, but please don’t stop.”

She had already removed his braces, and his trousers were soon around his ankles. Briefly diverting his attention from her breasts, he reached down and removed his suspenders and socks. He then reached across and pulled her thong from her hips. It was soaked. He picked her up and gently placed her on the bed.

“I thought I was in charge here,” she said somewhat petulantly.

“Oh, you are in charge. I am only doing what you wanted me to do from the first moment we laid eyes on each other.”

She was more than ready; however he teased her a bit. He wasn’t deliberately trying to tease. It was just that it had been so long, and he knew his control would not be at its best. He wanted to savor this red-headed goddess for a while before the inevitable happened. He nibbled at the space between her ear and shoulder, and hit a hot button immediately. She thrashed about, and goose bumps rose all over her body. He travelled down to her breasts, and she cooed as he played with her nipples. Her navel brought about similar results as nibbling on her neck did. She had obviously been in the sun as he could see the outline of her bathing suit bottom. Her pubic hair was as fiery red as the hair on her head. He kissed her there and rubbed his nose in her furry mound.

Then, there it was: the source of a wonderful fragrance. Her nether lips screamed of her arousal, and she screamed in pleasure as she came. All he had to do was slightly spread her lips with his tongue and graze her hard little clit.

“Oh my fucking God! I have never come like that. Now fuck me. Please fuck me. Now!”

He would never fuck her. It had only taken that evening to know where he was going to be for the rest of his life. He made love to her. For him, it was over too soon; however, she came again, and cried with her face up against his.

She would never forget her first lover. That love was so different. They would get together once in a while, mostly for old times sake; however, John was different, and other than her first lover, she would never seek anyone else’s bed again.

They showered together the next morning, and she teased him about his pasty skin. “God, don’t you English know how to get a tan?”

He teased her about her freckles, and then teased her to an orgasm with his tongue. They weren’t dried off, but he threw her on the bed and did a better job of holding off than he did the night before. They had to change the sheets and mattress pad afterwards. She was even more beautiful in the light of day, with the curtains open to the cloudy London noonday sky, than she had been the night before.

There was never any question where the affair was going to go. She was starting a very successful career as a concert pianist, and was making good money. She let him know that she wanted his children, and he wasn’t against it. He had wanted a family, and his wife’s insanity prevented that. He felt that if the word got out about their affair, he would be politically ruined. He was a member of one of the liberal parties, and felt he had the resources to maybe someday be Prime Minister. Katherine agreed and understood the circumstances completely. They did agree that if the scandal broke, they would live openly together from that point on.

Katie planned things well. She had her schedule and knew there would be a nice break. She went back nine months and then went back another. That was where she stopped taking the pill.

Little Fiona O’Donnell was born in Redding, California. Sinead O’Donnell followed a few years later. Then there was the mistake. She hadn’t planned on getting pregnant for a while, but like they say, even the best birth control, short of sterilization, can fail. George Michael O’Donnell was born with a mop of strawberry blond hair. If John was aware of the genetic implications, he never let on. John Arthur O’Donnell was the only one of the children to be born in England.

There were several things that made Katherine and John’s affair much easier than it could have been. John, too, lived in Belgravia. His modest London flat was only two blocks away from the much more opulent home where Katherine and her children lived. That didn’t make their meeting any easier. It took money and WW II to make their affair very constant and unobserved.

Many of the underground utility tunnels as well as the London Underground had provided shelter during the Blitzkrieg. John had known for years about the walled up door behind his wine cellar that led to an abandoned tunnel below his home. When Katherine needed a larger home, John researched the old city drawings, something he had easy access to as a MP. The tunnel led to a row of homes two blocks away and beyond. John purchased the attached building closest to the tunnel, and several others on the street. The original home had been divided into flats.

Through his solicitors, he made satisfactory offers to the renters to move out. He then had the building renovated to its previous glory with all the modern conveniences. There was one additional improvement. He connected the home through the downstairs quarters to the tunnel. The tunnel was cleaned up, blocked off at each end, and supplied with lighting and ventilation.

Once Katherine and the beginning family moved in to their opulent home, it became very easy for the romance to flourish. When the children were in school, John lived there, coming and going through the tunnel.

The years passed and John did become prime minister. It was a huge ego thing at first, and then he realized the job was hell. He had made promises to his constituency and he did quite well fulfilling them. He kept England out of being involved in some skirmishes that their child across the sea still insisted in getting involved in and mucking up. England, like much of continental Europe had become very ‘green’ oriented, and he was able to get significant environmental legislation passed.

Katherine was in great demand throughout Europe, and there were frequent intervals when she would be travelling. She brought the children with her when she could and they would vacation on the continent in the summer. The children, as soon as they were old enough, did attend some of the finer boarding schools in the area. They were always home on weekends. There was a full time housekeeper, Margaret, who lived very comfortably downstairs. She adored Katherine and the children. She kept secrets very well.

Regardless of their effort to keep their relationship secret, it was not possible. Kate had let slip early on her lover’s first name. Jo knew immediately that he was married, and that his wife was insane and institutionalized. It didn’t take long for Jo, Fanny and Musetta to figure out who Kate’s lover was. What made the revelation possible was Kate’s fourth pregnancy. It was not an easy pregnancy, and it forced Kate to abandon her concert tour for the last months of the pregnancy.

Jo, Fanny and Musetta came to London to watch over Kate, and have medical attention literally at her side if needed. Jo took over Kate’s concert dates, but they were there mainly for her. They were also there to meet John. Good detective work on Musetta’s part led to the discovery of the tunnel and Fanny and Jo greeted John in his living room. They welcomed him to the family with great affection, and Kate and John realized that their attempt to keep their relationship secret was not well planned and not needed. They didn’t immediately tell the children, but it wouldn’t be long before they did.

Children are frequently wise beyond their years, and it wasn’t difficult for them to figure out as they got older that something was going on between ‘Uncle’ John and their mother. Fiona broached the subject first.

Sir John and Kate had recently come to the realization that they could not hide their relationship from their children much longer. It just didn’t make sense, and John and Kate would have to accept the consequences, whatever they were. They weren’t sure, though, how to broach the matter to them. Fiona took care of that. She was ten and would turn into a beautiful young woman. She would be tall like her mother, but had inherited her father’s dark hair and eyes. She was getting ready for a party at a friend’s home. Katherine was helping her with her makeup, what little she was allowed to wear.

“Momma, the kids at school are always asking me why we are so rich, with you being an American and all, and us not having a father. I tell them you are a great pianist. They know that, but they say we can’t be living where we are on what you do.

“Anyway, I think it’s ‘Uncle’ John. It’s alright with me. I like him a lot, and he treats me like a grown up. The thing is, we only see him here, and we never go out together. He always comes and goes through Margaret’s quarters. He’s an MP, and Sinead and I know he is very rich. They’re always writing about him in those awful papers. They say his wife is quite mad and locked up in some funny farm in Surrey. Anyway, this is what we think. We think you are a kept woman and ‘Uncle’ John is our Daddy. That is just so romantic!”

Katherine paled and had to sit. The room was spinning. What was she going to do? She looked at her daughter who suddenly realized that her and Sinead’s little fantasy was absolutely true.

“Oh, my God, Momma, it’s true. He is our Daddy.”

“Yes, Fiona, he is your father, and he loves all of us very much. Please don’t tell anyone until we say it is okay. We’re going to tell everyone shortly.”

They did call a news conference, and the fallout was far less than they expected. John lost his seat in Parliament, but regained it later.

Kate continued to suffer from guilt from the fact that her pregnancy with George was unplanned, and followed the only time since she started her relationship with John that she had gone to bed with her brother.

Fortunately, Fanny was on top of things. Shortly after the birth of John, Fanny realized that Kate was not sure who George’s father was. Fanny told Kate the truth. She had taken DNA samples from each of the first three children, and there was no question that John was the father of all three. Kate’s relief was immediate. She never would sleep with her brother again.

Fanny and John’s home hadn’t been so full in years. As requested, there was no funeral service. Instead, there was just a celebration of a wonderful life.

The arrival of the entourage from England was unexpected. They had hoped that Sean and Katherine could be there, but were amazed when they showed up with their children’s families. Katherine was a grandmother many times over, as was Sean a grandfather.

Sir John stood, rapped his glass to get everyone’s attention.

“It has been so wonderful to see everyone again. I am very thankful that Jo, Fanny and Musetta confronted me about my relationship with Kate. Had they not, we might have tried to keep it secret for who knows how long. I am so thankful that I was forced to acknowledge my existence to this wonderful family when I was.

“As many of you may know, I had the enviable job of being Prime Minister of the country that gave birth to many of your ancestors. I know we had a bit of a disagreement about our support of an action this country’s government proposed to take in the Middle East. That decision was not well received; however, the support I received from you was heartening. We had some scary times because of that decision, but we survived.

“I am Catholic and I could never bring it to myself to divorce my now deceased wife. I was prepared to be celibate for the rest of her life. Kate changed that idea rather quickly. There were a number of things I wanted to accomplish politically and environmentally for my country, and fortunately I had the means to do it; however, I didn’t think I could afford the slightest scandal. Being a Catholic politician in a country dominated by the Anglican Church is difficult enough as it is. That feeling led to a number of selfish decisions on my part. Thank God, I got over it. Thank God Jo had the wisdom to make me see what was important.

“This is the first time that all of our children and grandchildren have had an opportunity to be together with the California branch of the family. Fiona, Sinead, George, John, would you and your families come up here. Sean, Helga, Elke, Johann, Erich, bring your broods up here, too. MJ come on up with yours, too. I want everyone to see the European contingent at one time.

“There is something else I want you to realize. I am an only child. My father was probably too ill with Alzheimer’s to realize that he had a grandchild, but my mother saw all of them before she passed away. What I want everyone to realize is that you are the only family I have. You are my family, and I have been truly blessed by God. Why I tried to hide from you those first few years was foolish and very selfish.

“Kate has already cut back on the concertizing, and now tells me she is going to retire. We’ve been travelling and we’re taking our grandchildren with us when we can. We have also been in contact with an estate agent in San Francisco. We’re going to buy a flat there. I can tend to many business matters from there; however, Fiona has things well in hand, so I don’t think we will be bothered very often.

“Enough of this complicated mish mash. I am looking forward to seeing more of you now, and hope you will forgive me for being such a self centered ass.”

He needn’t have worried.

It was a couple of days after the celebration that Mike asked his children to meet with him to discuss the estate and other matters. Much of the personal property was already ‘tagged’ and identified as to where it was going to go. Many things were going to charity; however there were special things that had great significance, and Mike wanted to make sure everything was going to where it should. There was little or no argument.

“We have had a wonderful convocation over the last week. It’s a shame that it took your mothers death to get us together. Promise me you won’t let this happen again. I know we’re spread out all over the world; however, with modern transportation being the way it is, the continents are only a few hours apart.

“I imagine this is the last time I’ll see all of you together. We have had a lot of fun and excitement over the years, and I certainly hope that some of what we went through we will never have to experience again. I don’t have much time left. I am wearing out just like your mother did. When I’m gone ….”

“Daddy!” interrupted Sylvia.

“Sylvia, shut up and let me finish. Look, all of you, I am going to die, and I don’t think it will very long from now. We have had a wonderful celebration, and I would like you to think that it was for me also. When your mother died, a lot of me died, too. She insisted that we would be together again. If that’s the case, it would be wonderful. If death is the finality of the spirit, then that is the way it is. The point is moot. I’ll either find out, or it’s over.

“There will not be a funeral, and I would prefer there not be a lot of hoopla, certainly not like the last week. I have left some instructions for the disposition of our ashes. There’s no hurry.

“Fanny has your mother’s awards, my military memorabilia and a bunch of other stuff. When they get it ready, it’s going to the Redding Museum. The items will always belong to the family. They are just on loan.

“Your mother and I are very proud of all of you. What a blessing you have been. We never imagined that we would find Fanny, but once we found her, we were never been able to imagine life without her. Sean and Katherine, we were so proud of how you continued in music, and we have not been surprised by your success. You have beautiful families and now beautiful grandchildren.

“Sylvia, dear Sylvia: I never would have believed it when you were in high school. Then Phil showed up one day and said he was in love with you, and just wanted you to be happy. He talked about how he met you on Half Dome that day, and before the end of the day, we knew that someday you two were going to be together. Your mother was so proud of Helen. She said Helen was going to win it all. I shouldn’t say it that way because she was so proud of all her grandchildren.

“Matt the homebody, and here you are Chief of Police. And, you managed to do it without getting shot. You kept the tradition going, too – two doctors, a school teacher, and an Air Force pilot. I’m not sure how that last one slipped in. Your mother and I talked about your wanting to retire, and we thought it was a good decision. You and Katia need to get away from Redding more often.

“Well, I think there is still some sort of party going on among the lingerers. We should probably join them. Can somebody give me an assist with this thing? I still don’t have it working quite right.”

“Sure, Pop, I’ll be glad to.” Matt took the brakes off and pushed his father out the door. The others followed.

It was a month later that the staff at the home checked on him. He was late for dinner, and hadn’t requested any assistance. He had been getting around fairly well with his walker, and had eschewed the wheel chair. They found him in the easy chair. He had a pleasant smile, but his eyes were closed. The picture he had been looking at was in his lap. Patrick Beebe had taken it many years before, about a week after Musetta and Johnny Gigliotti’s wedding. Mike, Jo, Fanny, Sean, Katie, Sylvia and Matt were standing atop Mt. Kaweah. They were a happy bunch.

Mike was cremated in accordance with his wishes. The Esterházy family, Essegian family and Matt O’Donnell’s family made sure all the arrangements were taken care of. Then they got on with their lives.

Helen’s debut with the San Francisco Symphony was a spectacular success. The critics in the local papers were effusive in their praise for the relatively unknown northern California beauty. Yes, she had won a recent competition that many felt was short of competitors of any great quality; however, any doubts as to her abilities were quickly put aside.

“Last night we were provided with an exceptional treat. Ms. Helen Esterházy, a student at Humboldt State University, and recent winner of the Embarcadero Piano Competition demonstrated that she is ready to take over the reins from her distinguished family as one of the premier pianists in the world. What power? What grace? What Beauty? From the first chords of the Emperor she had the audience in palms of her elegant hands, and one also felt that the orchestra was hers to do with whatever she wanted.

“The audience was so moved that they broke into a huge round of applause at the end of the first movement, something that the staid American audiences do not frequently do. From the heights of the Allegro, first movement, she proceeded to tear at her audience’s hearts with the most emotionally draining Adagio this critic has ever heard. I can attest to the fact that tears flowed, mine included. From the depths of despair she brought the audience back with a triumphant Rondo that had feet tapping.

“Needless to say, the ovation continued for more than five minutes. She returned for several bows, and much to the audience’s pleasure again sat at the piano. This was something that had obviously been planned as the strings had the music in front of them. She dedicated the piece to her recently deceased grandmother and grandfather. She played Gerald Finzi’s Eclogue for Piano and Strings. Not only did she bring the audience to tears, there were tears in her eyes as well.

“Ms. Esterházy’s star has risen, and who’s to say how far the career of this exceptional artist will go.”

Her study and training continued under the watchful eye of her Aunt Fanny. Fanny was in her early seventies and excellent health. She had created a very sound foundation with her millions and had an outstanding management staff. She continued to endow what she considered to be worthy causes and charities. Even with the vagaries of the economy and considerable distribution of money, the basic amount she had inherited had continued to increase. She and John still lived in the large but not extravagant home they had built near John’s parent’s home. They had come to the decision after her parent’s deaths that it was time to downsize. They didn’t need a six bedroom house, and hadn’t for many years.

Communications had continued to improve greatly over the years, and Fanny would monitor Helen’s progress through a modern computer system. Helen’s abilities had reached the point that the instructors at Humboldt were able to critique but not tweak, as Fanny would say. Fanny could monitor her performance at school as well as at home.

~*~

Helen was in awe of New York. She was familiar with some major cities having done concerts in San Francisco, Los Angeles, Houston, and several smaller venues as well. But New York was huge beyond anything she could have realized. She had made several trips; however, the immensity of the place almost overwhelmed her.

Over the previous two years, she had performed for several smaller orchestras, and found several of them to be quite good. Her agent had received a call from the Arkansas Symphony Orchestra to see if she could possibly step in for a famous artist who had been injured in an auto accident and couldn’t appear. Helen was very surprised at the request, but accepted immediately. They were doing the Khachaturian Piano Concerto. It was a piece she had learned only the year before and is one that is seldom played. It is extremely demanding.

Arkansas is in the south, sort of. Fanny accompanied Helen as her parents couldn’t make the trip. Fanny had not heard much about what she thought might be a ‘provincial’ orchestra and wanted to make sure that Helen knew how to adjust to an orchestra that might be made up of semi professional performers. It turned out that neither Fanny nor Helen had anything to worry about as far as the orchestra was concerned.

The thing they had to worry about was the weather. It was January, and the temperature when they arrived was pleasant enough: really not much different then the coastal northern California climate Helen was used to. Helen met with the conductor who turned out to very, very good, and went over the program with him. Fanny accompanied Helen to the rehearsal hall where they would go over the concerto with the principals of the orchestra before the main rehearsal on the day of the concert. All went very well.

The day of the concert broke warm with a gentle breeze from the south. It was only a few blocks from the old but elegantly restored Capitol Hotel to the auditorium, and Helen and Fanny decided to walk to the rehearsal. It went very well. There were only a few areas to coordinate on and they were ready for the evening performance: the first of two. As they returned to the hotel, the wind had picked up a bit; however, now it was blowing from the north.

They took a short nap before they had a light meal and dressed for the concert. The concerto was featured in the second half of the program, and they did not have to leave the hotel until after the eight P.M. start. They had thought about walking; however, their plans changed dramatically. As they crossed the lobby, they noted some bundled up guests entering. What a shock; it was snowing. No it wasn’t snowing; it was a blizzard. They quickly acquired a cab and managed to get to the auditorium not much worse for the weather.

“Well, so much for making a great impression in Little Rock,” Fanny remarked as they made their way to the waiting area below the stage. There was a piano for Helen to use to warm up. They could hear the beginning of the symphony as they sat back and relaxed. The applause was not very loud, but seemed to carry on for a while. ‘At least they liked it,’ Helen thought.

Maestro Wasserman greeted them shortly into the intermission. “I’m sorry about the weather. The crowd is sparse, but enthusiastic. They’re a good bunch, and most of the coughers stayed home.”

There was a pleasant reception afterwards in the hotel that was connected to the auditorium. It was a very warm group, although the number of attendees was much smaller than expected. Maestro Wasserman personally took them to the hotel. The blizzard was subsiding, but there was close to a foot of snow on the ground. It was bitterly cold.

They awoke the next morning to brilliant sunshine and sub-zero temperatures. Fanny purchased a paper, and after getting rid of the ads and other non-essential sections, started looking for a review; if Little Rock even had somebody capable of writing one.

Helen was diving into a stack of pancakes and a side order of sausage and scrambled eggs. She was interrupted by Fanny’s gasp.

“Listen to this:

“Unknown Pianist Knocks Them Dead In A Magnificent Performance.
The weather may have been cold; however, the last minute replacement for the scheduled performance of Khachaturian’s Piano Concerto was not. The house was less than half full, and those that opted not to attend because of the weather missed a performance the likes of which has not been heard in this city in decades. From the first three notes of the theme, the stunningly attractive Helen Esterházy had the audience under her spell. It wasn’t her beauty that won the audience over; it was the power and emotion of the performance. This is a long and difficult concerto, and Ms. Esterházy never faltered. If this performance was indicative of her talent across the repertoire, the audience had the privilege of hearing probably one of the greatest young pianists to grace the concert stage today.

This orchestra seems to rise to the occasion, and this performance was no exception. They were the perfect complement. The sometimes shaky brass was note perfect. The first half of the concert was very strong. Rachmaninoff’s ‘Isle of the Dead’ was an interesting opening number. It is seldom performed; however, it seemed perfect for the evening. Schubert’s Third Symphony was very refreshing. However, the piece de resistance was Ms. Esterházys’ performance. If at all possible make it your plan to attend the second performance given this afternoon at 3:00 PM. It may be many years before we are graced with Ms. Esterházys’ appearance again.

Ms Esterházy is the granddaughter of the late Jo O’Donnell, niece of Katherine O’Donnell, well known concert pianist, and niece of well known cellist, Sean O’Donnell. She is also the niece of the renowned Frances (Fanny) Essegian, Pulitzer Prize, Grammy and Oscar winning composer and pianist. Mrs. Essegian was present at the post concert reception, which was an unexpected bonus. Mrs. Essegian insists on being called Fanny.”

“Well, that certainly has to be one of the better reviews that I have recently read,” Fanny added.

“Was it that good? I’m never sure, especially working with an unfamiliar orchestra.”

“Don’t get a big head, but it was that good.”

~*~

So, here they were in New York. The nonstop flight from San Francisco was not too unpleasant, and Demeter was waiting for them when they left the secure area at JFK. Demi was singing for the New York and Metropolitan Opera Companies, and had sung several supporting roles. Her time in New York was limited as she had recently auditioned with the Vienna Opera and had been accepted. Her great Aunt MJ had already made it very clear that she would be staying at her home in the heart of old Vienna.

Fanny and John had kept their Queens apartment. They'd eventually bought the entire building, and had rented it intermittently when her children and nieces and nephews didn’t need a place to stay when studying in New York. There had been one exception. The flat was not available when Sean and Katie studied at Julliard. Two of John and Fanny’s children stayed there as did Demi. Kate's son, George, also stayed there. The timing was working out very well.

Helen’s application had pretty much been accepted without any question. Fanny had helped her put together an audition recording that included several of her concerts. Helen was asked to come in for an interview; however, it turned out to be much more like a welcoming committee. Fanny was greeted with a bear hug by the department head, who it turned out had been a classmate of Fanny’s many years before. Unquestionably, the fact that the O’Donnell-Essegian-Esterházy clan had sent many family members to Julliard, and all of them had very successful careers, was an overriding reason that Helen’s acceptance was essentially etched in stone.

They were invited to dinner at the department head’s home, and Helen was invited to play after dinner. It was not a big affair; however, several other department members were there with their companions. Demi was also there with her current boyfriend. He was definitely attractive; however, Helen didn’t get the feeling he was going to be a permanent fixture.

Helen wasn’t sure what to play and took Fanny aside. “What should I do? I could blow it right here.”

“First of all, you are not going to blow it. Why don’t you just play some of that Viennese salon music you played at that dinner a few years ago? Throw in a Chopin Nocturne or two and start with the Rachmaninoff Prelude you like so much. This is not really an audition other than it’s a situational thing. You are probably going to be asked to play at a number of smaller affairs, you know. People will want to hire you for their parties to show that they have great taste. If they can afford you, play for them. I know you like the big stage, but it doesn’t hurt to meet people at these smaller affairs. You can never tell where it might lead.”

Demi had excused herself from the dinner table, and Helen followed her to a rather extravagant bathroom that had a closeted WC.

“That boyfriend of yours; he’s not a permanent thing, is he?” asked Helen, somewhat derogatorily.

“Oh, God, no: he’s just a bit of fun for the moment. He has a thing for big women with big tits, and is very appreciative. Besides he is hung like a horse,” Demi added as she sat on the toilet without closing the door. “He’s an actor at one of those ‘Off Broadway’ theaters. I guess he’s pretty good and he’s straight, too; however, he’s as dumb as a post. He’ll probably do okay if he can get into movies where they can do a lot of takes. It takes a while for him to get it right, but once he does, he seems to retain it pretty well.

“No, he’s nothing permanent. He’s just been a good fuck toy for the moment. I basically brought him here to do him a favor.

“Say, are you still a virgin?”

“Well, yes; I mean I haven’t done it with anyone. I’m not sure I’m ready. It’s going to have to be someone special, someone who knows about me, and that the fact that I can’t have children isn’t that important. Maybe that’s a bit old fashioned, but that’s the way it’s going to be.”

“Helen, that’s nothing to be ashamed of. For you, that’s going to be the right way. You are special, and if I find anyone hasn’t treated you right, I’ll break his fucking neck, even if I have to fly across the Atlantic to do it.”

Helen knew that Demi wasn’t kidding. She would and could do exactly that. Demi was not a person to take lightly.”

“Persi and I are so different from you. I guess it may have had a lot to do with our big brother and Amy. They enjoyed making love so much, and after Persi and I caught them at it, several times I might add, we just got so horny thinking about getting into the sack with some randy boys. God, we had fun. Mom found out we weren’t virgins, and read us the riot act. We were forced to slow down after that. Still, we both dreamed of finding the right one, and I still do.

“Speaking of Persi, I haven’t heard from her in a while. I probably should be emailing her more. Is she still doing well in school?”

“I think she is. She has been very happy about going into psychiatry.

“She and Clara are so happy. Clara is blossoming. You know that she is pregnant?”

“Yes, I understand they went to one of those very selective sperm donor outfits.”

“Persephone says they are going to wait just a year before she gets pregnant. I think they want two each. They’re probably also going to adopt several children.

“We’d better get back. They probably think we fell in.”

Julliard proved to be an excellent training ground for Helen. Basically it was fine tuning what was already excellent technique. It also gave her an opportunity to study some composers she hadn’t ventured to previously. She found out she was much better than she thought she was. She heard other students who struggled with the finer points. There were students who wouldn’t attempt certain composers. Rachmaninoff terrified some pianists.

The masters program in piano took two approaches. There were those who would be primarily accompanists and those who would primarily be soloists. That was not to say one couldn’t fill the role of the other. After all, they were in a graduate curriculum at Julliard and that meant quite a bit. Helen was a soloist, and she had already proved that beyond a doubt. The program took two years and there were many opportunities for performances.

Helen was already fairly well known in the performance world, having come out of nowhere to win the Embarcadero Competition. Well, as far as Fanny and Jo had been concerned, she hadn’t come out of nowhere. Helen backed up her win in San Francisco with her rave review performance with the symphony later on. She also received very strong reviews for her other performances.

Reviewers are reviewers and they are often frustrated musicians or individuals who have some music experience, whether it is amateur or professional. There was another source of reviews out there, and this one was much more objective and realistic. These were the direct communications among the musicians, orchestra operations staffs, and conductors of the various orchestras. Word had preceded her arrival at Julliard, and like many students in the performing arts there, requests would come. The school had contacts, obviously, and part of the graduate degree in performance was performing under different circumstances. Helen eventually performed several times in the New York and New England areas before she graduated.

School was fun and she made many friends. She refused to join in with the heavy drinking crowd, although she was not averse to visiting the many wine bars in Manhattan and Queens with her classmates. She detested smoking, and several times left parties where tobacco and/or pot were being smoked. She had nothing against marijuana in moderation; however, cigarette smoke left her eyes red and watering for at least a day. She wasn’t a stranger to pot. It was probably the largest cash crop in Humboldt County. She and other members of her family had found the occasional small plots on The Ranch, and they would eradicate them. They left notes explaining that as long as pot was illegal, they would not allow it to be grown on the property. Helens biggest problem with pot was that it totally befuddled her for hours. She realized that if she ever became a serious user it might affect her ability to interpret music, and that was the last thing she wanted to happen. She had too much at stake.

Eventually, she did date, and the dates were out in the open. She never brought a date up to her flat, although most would have been very willing had she invited them. She made it very clear that having an enjoyable evening was as far as she intended to go. She had no intention of sharing a bed with anyone at that time. She seldom had more than two dates with anyone other than two aspiring actors who were trying to maintain a façade of being straight. They were a lot of fun, and she never understood why they were trying to hide their homosexuality.

It was the second week of classes when she received a note asking her to come to the administration office. There is nothing like getting a note of this sort to set off a round of paranoia, so she entered the office with a bit of intrepidation.

“Dr. Lindauer, you asked to see me.”

“Helen, yes, how are things going?”

“Quite well, I think. I haven’t had much opportunity to do much yet.”

“Well, we’re very pleased to have you here. Your family has established quite a reputation, and from what we already know about you, you won’t have any problem following in their footsteps.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Helen, we would like to ask a favor of you. You are living where your sister lives, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Why?”

“We were hoping that you might be able to do a favor for one of our students. We have a sophomore student who has a wealth of talent, but is lacking in confidence and is having some problems academically. She’s on the borderline of not being able to continue, and is here on probation for this semester. Dorm life is more than she can handle, and we were wondering if you would be willing to accept a flat mate.”

“Well, I don’t know. Demi’s still there for another week or so, and I would need to check with my aunt. She and my uncle own the flat.”

“We’ve already cleared it with Fanny; however, she said it was up to you.

“Also, there is something else. We would like you, if you are willing, to help her out; you know, help her with her lessons and exercises. She needs a bit of refining in some areas. She did well in the audition process; however, she seems to be lacking direction, and we don’t seem to be able to reach her. Would you talk with her and see if she would be willing to give it a try. Her parents are desperate for her to succeed, and will pay for any expenses.”

“I’m not sure I understand. You want me to tutor her? I’ve never taught piano to anyone.”

“I’m sorry; I guess I didn’t make that very clear. She’s not a piano student. She’s a violinist. She plays the piano adequately, but the violin is her instrument.

“You have absolute pitch recognition, and play the violin quite well. You also have the ability to put emotion into what you do. We think you might be able to communicate with her. She is a very nice young lady, and we just would hate to see her get discouraged and give it up.”

“I don’t have a problem with it; however, I will definitely need to talk with her and see if we’re compatible. If we can’t stand each other, there wouldn’t be any reason to go any further.”

With a preliminary agreement struck, Helen made her way to the dormitory with the chance in mind that she might meet Jennifer Frisch right away. She didn’t have any classes at the moment and it would save Helen having to call her and arrange for a later meeting. She found the room and knocked.

“Come in,” was the subdued response.

Helen entered to see a slender brunette sitting on the edge of a bed while staring off into space. There were two suit cases on the floor and a violin case on the desk along with a laptop computer.

“Jennifer? Hi, I’m Helen Esterházy. Dr. Lindauer asked me to come by and talk with you about maybe finding a nicer place to live.”

The girl turned, and Helen could see she had been crying. “I think I just want to go home. I’m not good enough to be here. My nerves are shot.

“Oh my, I just realized who you are. Wow!”

“I think you might be mistaking me for my sister, Demeter.”

“Oh no, she’s the singer. You’re a lot prettier than she is. Everyone’s been talking about your being here and wondering why. They say you should be doing the concert tour.”

“I guess I’m here because I want to be better. I have a lot to learn. Do you like chamber music? I was thinking you, and I could work on some of the repertoire. I’ll bet we could find another violinist, cellist and violist, and put together a piano quintet for fun. You and I could work on the violin sonatas, and you and the others could work on the quartets. It would be a great opportunity to learn how to work together and feed off of each other.

“Think about it. I know you’re not happy in this hive. Demi’s going to be leaving in a few days, and I think I would like to have a roommate. Your bedroom would be bigger than this cell, and the bath is pretty nice.

“Do you have a car?”

“No.”

“I don’t either. At least it’s not here. There is a single car garage, and Demi is leaving her car there for the time being. We’ll be able to use it if we have to; however, the best way to get there is by the subway. There is a subway station just down the street.

“By the way, we have a Steinway. My Aunt Fanny and Uncle John own the building, and there are two apartments below mine. The couple below us is hard of hearing, and we don’t have to worry about bothering anyone. We do have to walk up two flights. It’s not too bad. I spent the last four years living in a dormitory, and am looking forward to more privacy.

“Why don’t you come over and have a look? If you don’t know how to use the subway, I’ll be glad to go with you.”

Jennifer showed up early on Saturday afternoon. Demi greeted her at the door after buzzing her in the front entrance.

“Hi, Jennifer, I’m Demi. Helen will be out in a minute.

“You will be so happy getting out of that rabbit warren. This is a great place and it’s very private. Fanny and John bought it when they were students here years ago.”

“Helen said that her aunt and uncle owned this, and I just found out that she is Fanny Essegian. That’s amazing. I didn’t realize she was still alive. Gee, three people in the same family all going to Julliard.”

“Actually, that’s seven, no eight. I forgot about George. My Aunt Kathryn and Uncle Sean O’Donnell were here several years after Fanny and two of Fanny’s children also graduated from Julliard. Fanny is seventy-five and going strong. She was here the week before last making sure Helen was getting settled in. My Mom and Dad would have been here except they are college professors and department chairs, and they couldn’t get away.

“Ah, here’s Helen.”

“Hi Jennifer, sorry to keep you waiting; I was just talking with Fanny, and she wanted to welcome you. What do you think? Do you like it?”

“My God, it’s fabulous! It’s like a dream come true. They told me that the rent’s taken care of if I want to stay. How do they do that?”

“Well it’s not really free. Your dorm fees will be contributed to the cost. You and I will share the cost of our food. Our Aunt and Uncle worked out a little deal with Julliard for special cases. I just found out how it works. Sometimes there’s a trade off, and sometimes the cost is defrayed by a scholarship of sorts. Fanny has it set up so that descendants who qualify for Julliard can stay here if they want to. I’m sure there will be more. They just have to trace their ancestry back to our grandparents, Mike and Jo O’Donnell.

“There’re some downsides to this. We have to plan for the commuting time, and we’re exposed to the weather to and from the stations. We also don’t have the dorm noise, people knocking on our doors at all hours, or binge drinking parties. Sometimes one has to put up with these things.”

“If you will have me, I would love to live here. It’s been rough. I have problems being away from my family, and until recently, my boyfriend. I do want to be a musician. I’ve always wanted to be a musician.

“May I say something? I don’t consider myself short; however, in your presence, I feel like a dwarf. Both of you are so pretty and are going to have great careers. Demi is already getting good reviews, and you have won a major competition and have played with major orchestras. I think I am out of my league.”

“Jenn, don’t sell yourself short. You wouldn’t be at Julliard if you didn’t have talent. What we have to do now is refine that talent. You are only a sophomore. There’s a lot of time.”

Demi was on her way to Europe less than a week later, and Jenn moved in. Helen posted an advertisement, with Dr. Lindauer’s approval, on several bulletin boards asking for string players who might be interested in forming a chamber music group. The intent of the group was to let performers refine their ensemble abilities. There was no intent to compete with already established groups. Thus began the Esterházy Quintet.

It was a week later that Helen found out that Jenn’s 19th birthday was the following Saturday. By this time the group of five musicians had come together, and Helen invited them along with some friends to a small birthday party for Jenn. They had a great time, and Helen manufactured margaritas in accordance with the time-honored family recipe. It was 1:00 AM before the last of the revelers headed for home.

Helen had showered and was just drowsing off when she heard a quiet knock on her door.

“Helen, can we talk for a while. I can’t get to sleep.”

“Sure, come in.”

Jenn came in and sat on the side of the bed.

“I wanted to thank you for the party. It was very nice and everyone was so good. It meant a lot to me. You mean a lot to me. I was really down, and now I feel better about things than I have felt for a long time.

“You’ve been like a big sister to me, but you’ve been more. I don’t know how to explain it. I, --I think I love you,” she stammered.

“Oh, Jenn, what have I done. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Helen turned to hug Jenn, meaning to encourage her back to her to her room; somehow though, their lips met. Helen started to pull back, but it never happened. Jenn was insistent, and her kisses became more and more demanding. Helen was suddenly returning the kisses. Jenn had just bathed, as had Helen, and Jenn smelled of roses, violets, and something else. The kisses gained in power, and without really realizing what was going on, Helen allowed Jenn to raise her nightie over her head. Helen returned the favor.

Jenn’s breasts were very nice. They were not large, but they stood out proudly from her narrow chest. Helen couldn’t help but lower her mouth to the dark nipple that presented itself to her. Jenn threw her head back and almost howled with pleasure, clasping Helen’s head to her. Soon it was her turn to return the favor to Helen’s much fuller and larger breasts. Helen’s hand found its way to the juncture of Jenn’s thighs. She hesitated a moment, and Jenn pulled back from the object of her worship and uttered a plaintive “Please”.

Helen obliged and found a very wet and warm place, and her long fingers gently explored the area. It was only seconds before she found that special little spot, and gently caressed it. Jenn’s response was almost immediate. She stopped worshipping Helens nipples and breasts, and froze. Then she started shaking and gasping loudly. Finally, she almost shouted, “Oh fuck!”, and collapsed against the much larger woman.

Helen wasn’t sure what to do, having never had sex with another woman, so she just held Jenn to her. Jenn’s breathing gradually returned to normal, and she looked up at Helen’s wondering face and smiled. “Thank you, I’ve never done that with a woman before. That was very nice. I think it’s my turn now.”

“What? You don’t….”

“Yes I do. Now just shut up, lie back and enjoy it. Just consider this a token of my appreciation. I do love you, by the way. You will be my sister for ever.”

Helen may have protested weakly; however. It was futile. Jenn rained little butterfly kisses all over Helen’s upper torso, paying particular attention to her nipples and breasts, before working her way down her smooth belly to the juncture of her thighs. Her small fingers spread Helens lips, and her tongue probed until she found the right places. She caressed Helen’s silky blond pubic hair and ran her fingers over her perfect skin. It wasn’t long before Helen was coming like she had never come before. Her hips lifted violently off the bed several times and almost threw the smaller Jenn to the floor. Jenn returned to Helen’s mouth and gently kissed her until Helen calmed and wrapped her arms around her and returned the kisses.

“What have we done?” wondered Helen out loud.

“We just ended a very nice evening. I think that was wonderful. I meant it when I said I have never done it with a woman before; however, from the first time I saw you, I have wanted to make love to you. There is something about you that just demanded it. You are so beautiful, so tall, and so vulnerable. I couldn’t help it. I hope you weren’t disappointed. I don’t think you’ve done it with a woman, either.

“I was sixteen when I lost my virginity to my boyfriend. I let him do it, and after about six months he got pretty good. I just never felt he cared. We broke up just before school started. I missed him last year when I was a freshman, but I realize now what I missed was the sex. You showed me more sensitivity in five minutes than he ever did.

“So, how did you lose yours? I’ll bet you’ve had a lot of boy friends.”

“I’ve had a few boyfriends, but I’ve never done it with any of them.”

“You’ve got to be kidding! I mean, I know what we just did, but I would never have thought that you were a lesbian.”

“I don’t think I am. As far back as I can remember I have wanted to get married and have lots of children. It was just going to have to wait. Then….” Helen stopped talking for a moment. She was thinking things over, and then came to a decision. She gently took Jenn’s hand and brought it to her delicately covered pubic mound. She took her finger and gently rubbed it up and down a couple of inches inward from the juncture of her thighs and abdomen.

“Feel that little ridge under the skin on each side?”

“Yes, I felt them earlier. I thought they might be old scars from some sort of surgery. You didn’t have hernias, did you?”

“No, though that is not as far fetched as it may sound. They removed my testicles through there about ten years ago.”

“What? You’re a T-girl? I don’t believe it. You couldn’t be. Your body is too perfect. Those beautiful breasts of yours are absolutely natural. Any girl knows fake boobs.”

“No, I am not transgendered, and everything about me is as real as it can be. I do have to take some hormones now to keep everything in the right balance; however, this is the way I grew up. My periods never started, and when I was thirteen we found out I had a rare condition called Complete Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome or CAIS. I am genetically a male; however, mentally and in my outward physical appearance, I am a woman in every way. There is not one iota of maleness in me. If it weren’t for the hormones I started taking ten years ago I probably would have ended up taller than my sisters. Persephone looks just like Demeter, except she’s an inch taller at six-three. I’m glad I stopped growing upwards.

“It was tough for a while. I got real mad at Mom and Dad because I couldn’t have babies and it was their fault. I talked with a lot of people and began to realize how lucky I was. What if I had been like my great grandmother and had been born with this mind in a body like my brothers’. I realized what she had gone through and how I had it so much better than she did. I was only a year old when she died and I don’t remember her. She was much too young when she died.”

“Your great grandmother was transgendered, how sad.”

“It wasn’t sad at all. She went through hell and survived. She spent almost 40 years as a woman and had children and grandchildren. She was a very happy woman.

“Jenn, I liked what we did very much, and I don’t think I would be averse to doing it again; however, I want a husband some day, and I am going to have a family.

“Men are so screwed up. Most of them grow up feeling that if they have a sexual relation with another man, they are less than a man. Women can do what we did and we just feel more female, at least I know I do. Women can relate with each other about things so much more easily than men. I really like that.

“I think we need to get some sleep.”

“May I stay with you tonight?”

“Come here.” Helen pulled Jenn to her breast. They fell asleep tangled together.

Jenn’s academics and mood greatly improved over the next weeks. It had a lot to do with Helen; however, other things began to happen. The quintet struggled at first. The players were adequate, but had come to Julliard with dreams of becoming great soloists. They were good, but not that good. For a while there were five individuals. Helen knew what the problem was, and that was why the group was formed in the first place. They had to learn to shed some of their individuality. They had to be a team or they would never be any good.

Helen was the leader, and that was recognized immediately. She never scolded, she encouraged, she praised when it was right, and suggested improvements where needed. The four string players were technically good, they just needed to shed some ego, and learn how to cooperate with each other.

There were a number of competitions at the school, and much to the string players distress, Helen entered them. They bombed. Instead of going off with their tails between their legs, Helen encouraged them, and they continued to practice. They got better.

There was Jenn who alternated with Bob Scharff as first and second violin. Misty Coleman was the violist, and Arnold Goodman was the cellist. Helen began to feel they were getting somewhere. They were more and more together and their sound became smoother.

Helen had been out one evening with several of the graduate students, and when she returned she discovered Jenn was not alone. Jenn’s violin was on a chair, and there was a lonely cello leaning against the chair. There were also some very passionate sounds coming from Jenn’s bedroom.

Helen backed out and walked a block to an all-night coffee house. She waited an hour. Then returned to find the violin and cello where they had been earlier. There was a duet of light snoring coming from the closed room.

Helen retired to her room, and quietly brought herself to an orgasm before she turned to her side to sleep. She was smiling.

~*~

“OK, you guys, it’s almost 10:00 o’clock. How do you want your eggs cooked?”

She heard the shower starting a few minutes later. And, after about 15 minutes, Arnold and Jenn came out of the bedroom holding hands. They both were wearing sheepish grins. There didn’t have to be any explanation.

“Since I didn’t hear anything, the eggs are scrambled. Are you OK with bacon, Arnold? I have some turkey sausage if you’re not.”

“Bacon’s great. We’re not orthodox. Boy that smells good.”

“I think I’ll expect better music from you two from now on.”

Arnold and Jenn laughed out loud.

~*~

Author's Note: We still have three chapters left in Helens adventures. Helen graduates from Julliard with many honors and she finally gets to meet a good friend. There is going to be a lot of excitement in her life over the next few years. Perhaps she will finally meet her ‘Prince Charming’. Why would anyone want to spend three weeks in Fort Worth, Texas during the summer?

Thanks again to Holly H. Hart for her very professional assistance.

Portia Bennett

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