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Diane McPherson sat at her dining room table. In front of her lay a photo album. She was thumbing through it when her daughter knocked on the front door. She quickly closed the book, paying particular attention that no photos were left showing. As Erica entered the room, Diane looked up and said,

"Oh hi, honey, I’m glad you could make it. How are you, sweetheart?" She asked as she rose to give her daughter a hug.

"Pretty good, Mommy, but a little tired after yesterday. She and her mother spent the afternoon with Mark’s mom, Marie, looking at the wedding photos. You may recall that Erica had served as matron-of-honor for Marie’s daughter Maired. You may also recall that Maired is actually Marie’s son, Mark, brother to his deceased twin Maura and husband of Erica.

Confused? I’m just getting started. The photo session was also attended by Gina, Erica’s best friend, along with Gina’s mother Betty. Betty took the photos, having run a camera store for years, with her deceased husband Johnny. Rounding out the wedding party was Katie, Gina’s and Erica’s new friend, who also happened to be Gina’s husband Ben. Getting this all down? Here’s where it really gets interesting.

 

"Mommy, you were so kind to come on such short notice. I know it’s hard for you to break away from your shop, and Marie was so glad you could make it." What made the whole day special was that, apart from the completely understandable confusion the day brought, it was a gift to Marie, who had held a disappointment in her heart for years, since she would never be the mother of the bride. In a way, she was, just not in the way most people expect or understand. Maired stood in for her sister Maura, but only by proxy, as she felt that no one could take her sister’s place.

By now, Erica had gotten used to the different personae that her husband had adopted, and even encouraged it from time to time. She loved Mark more than anything in the world, and she had grown fond of his alter-ego. What she couldn’t figure out was how easily her mother accepted the news that her son-in-law also was a de facto daughter-in-law. By now this author would be confused as well, had she not taken notes.

"Mommy," Erica said, her voice betraying her curiosity. Her mother had anticipated this conversation.

"You want to know why Maired didn’t surprise me. Oh, I was a little surprised; who wouldn’t be? But your mother’s been "around the block," as my dad used to say." As she spoke, she opened the photo album once again and pointed to the picture in the middle of the page. Two young ladies, twenty-ish, sat on a park bench on the Boardwalk at Atlantic City.

They were smiling, although the dark-haired girl seemed much more confident than the blond sitting beside her.

"Apart from Mark’s mother, this girl was my best friend in high school. She was such a fun girl to be with, and she was as loyal and true a friend as anyone could ask for."

"She looks familiar, Mommy. Do I know her?"

"She came to my wedding. She was with me when you were born, but I don’t think you’d remember her. She looked at you and asked God for a blessing; that you would be safe and happy and filled with joy. I think her prayer was answered,
don’t you?"

"Of course, Mommy, of course!" Erica never grew tired of calling her mother "Mommy." Her dad had "gone to war," as they used to say, and had never returned. She was almost ten at the time, and remembered hugging her mom tightly as his bus pulled away. His death was heroic but ironic. He died in the first Gulf War, only a few days after the cease fire.

Love for her husband and God overwhelmed and destroyed any root of bitterness, leaving only fond and lasting memories for her and Erica to cherish. Mother and daughter grew closer, if that were possible, and it was only natural for Erica to continue to refer to her "Mommy" in such an affectionate way.

"If she was there for when I was born, she must have known Daddy." Erica’s eyes misted up as she recalled her late father and how much she still missed him, even nearly two decades after his death.

"She did know your father," Diane said, her own eyes teary as well. "She knew your Daddy even before I did, and she was with him when he died."

Erica looked surprised and confused. She said,

"But Daddy died in Iraq. Was she in the Army as well?"

"She served in the Army the entire time he did."

"Mommy," Erica began to ask, "Daddy was a hero, wasn’t he?" She saw that her mother was staring to cry and apologized.

"That’s okay, honey," Diane said as she patted her daughter’s hand. "It’s okay to cry, and yes, your Daddy was a real hero." David McPherson died at the all-too-soon age of twenty-five. He had been employed by UPS, but decided at the age of twenty-four to enlist in the National Guard. His unit was called up and he shipped out to Iraq just before the war ended. He and his buddies were just coming back from a fire fight, when an Iraqi stepped from behind a truck at their base camp. The man threw a grenade, which fell at David’s feet. Without thought for his own safety, he jumped on the grenade just before it exploded. He was killed instantly, but his actions saved everyone in his platoon but for one female soldier who really shouldn’t have been there in the first place. He came home to military honors. His companion in death came home to no one, save for her best friend, Diane.

"She died with Daddy?" Erica looked at her mother, who struggled for an answer.

"Honey, it’s time I told you a story."

 

"Excuse me," a girl’s soft voice came from behind. Diane looked up and saw a young woman holding several papers in her hand.

"I think you dropped this when you got off the elevator," the girl said, gesturing back toward the elevator door.

Diane looked at the papers and recognized them as pages from her term paper.

"Oh, gosh, thanks…this is due tomorrow, and my typewriter broke this afternoon." Diane stood and offered her hand. "Diane…Diane Johnson."

The girl took her hand and grasped it firmly and smiled. "Ronni…Ronni McPherson." The girl said softly, her smile inviting and warm. Diane looked at her, trying not to "size her up," but found herself staring. Girls, even when they don’t intend to, will look at each other as competition (guys do this, but don’t care how the other feels.) Diane saw no competition, although the girl was pretty enough. The same age as Diane, the girl had an air about her that spoke more than words. She seemed confident in herself, yet her demeanor also said, "I will be your friend, I you wish." And not just an acquaintance, but a friendship that forms when two people just "click."

"She lived only a few blocks from Grandma’s, so I saw her often after that when we’d go to Grandma’s for dinner. One afternoon, when your Uncle Bobby was being especially obnoxious, (as middle school boys can be with their teenage sisters) I took a walk down the street. A boy was sitting on the front step of her house. He looked all the world as if he had lost his best friend. And he had. His dog had grown old and sick, and they had just gotten back from the vet.

They had to put her down. I asked him where Ronni was. He looked at me blankly for a moment, and I could see that he had been crying. All of a sudden, he got up and ran into the house. I knocked on the door, but he didn’t answer. A few moments later, a woman about Grandma’s age came to the door. I asked her if Ronni was home. She told me that there wasn’t any girl by that name there. ‘It’s just me and my son David living here," she said, pointing back to the front door.’ I was confused. I was sure Ronni had told me she lived there. Maybe I got the numbers wrong or the street, but I was sure she lived in the neighborhood. I walked up and down the street, but I didn’t see her."

"It’s like a Twilight Zone episode," Erica said.

"Yes, it seemed like that, but it gets more interesting," Diane said, as she turned the page of the album. She pointed to a picture of Ronni and her posing at an arcade photo booth. They were silly and laughing.

"Looks like you found her," Erica said, stating the obvious.

Diane continued. "Then one day weeks later, I was getting a book down from the shelf at the library, when I saw her through the shelf in the next aisle. I walked around, but she quickly walked away. ‘Ronni,’ I called, but she walked out of the library without saying a word. I ran out, but she was gone. Part of me was very hurt; she seemed like she liked me, then no. And I was angry…who was she to ignore me? Anyway, a few days past, and I was walking in the front door, and I saw an envelope tucked between the door and the jamb. It had my name on it, and it was written in long hand. "

"’Dear Diane,’ it said. ‘I am sorry I ignored you the other day. I have had a lot on my mind, and I needed some space to deal with it. I like you as a friend, but circumstances prevent me from seeing you anymore. I am sure you’d be the best friend anyone could ever have, but I can’t be one for you at this time. Please understand; I am truly sorry. God Bless, Ronni.’"

"Oh, Mommy, you must have been so hurt." Erica said, putting her arm around her mother.

"I was hurt, but only for a little while. What really got me is that Ronni wanted to be my friend, but for some reason could not. She needed me more than I thought I needed her. And I wasn’t going to give up."

Erica recalled that her mother was known in the family as being tenacious, "like a pit bull on a mail man’s leg," her Grandpa used to say. She would stick with something until it was finished or couldn’t be done. And even at that, she had a hard time letting go. This was one of those times, and happily for everyone, she never gave up on her friend.

"I made a point to go to the library every day, hoping to catch her before she could run away. And it paid off. I was sitting at a table by the reference desk when she entered the library. Before she could run away, I walked up behind her and grabbed her by the shoulders." Diane said with a laugh. "I spun her around and looked her in the eye. ‘Ronni McPherson, don’t you dare run away.’ She looked at me and started crying."

"What was she crying about, Mommy," Erica asked.

"She didn’t say right away. She walked out of the library, but she had me holding her hand, so she couldn’t run very far. She tried to walk faster, but I just stood in her way.

"’Fine,’ she said, and kept walking with her new escort until we had walked about two miles. I recognized the street, because we walked right past Grandma’s and Grandpa’s house. She kept walking until we reached the same house where I saw the boy who had lost his dog."

"’This is where I live, but please don’t ask to come in,’ she told me as she went to open the door. I put my hand on the screen, and I actually tore a hole in it when she pulled against it. ‘I don’t know what’s going on,’ I said, ‘but I want an explanation!"

"She looked at me and her eyes began to tear up."

"’Ronni,’ I said, ‘what’s so bad that you can’t talk about it?’"

"Did she tell you?" Erica asked, by this time sitting on the edge of her chair.

"Not so much as told me but showed me. She walked into the house with me trailing behind. She didn’t try to keep me out, but looked as if she wanted to run away and hide. I walked into the living room.

"’My mom’s at work," she said, as if that would have explained all the clutter and mess. Beer bottles were strewn all around, the only obvious décor for an otherwise undecorated room. To this day, I don’t know why, but my eyes were drawn to the mantelpiece. It was the only place in the living room that wasn’t cluttered. On the mantle sat a picture. It was an old photo of a boy, about fourteen or so. He was hugging an Irish Setter. It was an old picture of the boy I had met weeks before. I assumed he must have been a cousin of hers since the woman said she lived alone with her son. I could see the family resemblance; it was almost uncanny. Usually cousins resemble one another to a certain degree, but these two…the boy in the picture and Ronni…looked almost like twins. I looked back and forth between the picture and her and then it hit me." Diane paused.

"What hit you?"

"I asked her point blank who the boy was, and not gently I might add. She looked at me and started crying again. She looked as embarrassed and ashamed as anyone you’ve ever met." Diane said this, but her voice trailed off.

"Mommy…Mom…what is it?"

Diane looked at her daughter, tears in her eyes. What was the secret to this girl, and why, after so many years, did she still have this kind of effect on Diane?

"Honey, that day was the day I met your father." Diane was not crying out of sadness; her eyes were filled with tears for the memory of the moment and the precious part it played in her life.

"The girl in front of me and the boy in the picture were one in the same, "Diane said, and she started to smile. She thought, not of the sadness in the girl’s face, nor the shame she expressed. Rather, Diane thought of the next moment…a moment that would change her life forever.

"I looked her in the eye….At least, I tried to, but she kept looking away. I grabbed her chin and pulled it around, and not too gently. She tried to turn again, and I grabbed her shoulder with my other hand." Diane started to laugh, leading Erica to assume things got better.

"She tried to argue, but all that came out was, ‘BBBuht…’ I looked her again in the eye and pointed to the picture on the mantle. With as much gumption I could muster (an old expression, dear reader) I stood taller and said, ‘SO WHAT? WHO CARES?’"

"She stopped crying, as if a switch had been turned off. She looked at me, shocked, like in the movies when someone wins the lottery. ‘But….I….’ was all she could say. I looked at her again, then back at the picture."

"Mommy, what do you mean, one in the same," Erica asked. She hadn’t heard anything her mother said after that phrase."

"I mean, light of my life, (she always called Erica that) what I am saying is that the girl in picture in front of you and the boy in the picture on the mantle are the same person…..your father."

"What!!?" Erica sat for a moment, her eyes darting from her mother’s face to the picture and back. Even with a husband that had a "sister" as an alter-ego, the news shocked Erica.

"Ronni McPherson is, was your Daddy." The moment could have lapsed quickly into inane, but for Diane’s expression. The memory, while confusing to her daughter, was anything but to Diane. Her memories of Ronni were ones of tenderness, kindness and love.

"But why?" was all Erica could ask. She might as well have asked herself that question. She thought back to when she reminded her friend Gina that while we choose whom we will love, we often do not choose with whom we will fall in love.

"Honey….it was one of those moments you have in a lifetime where you can’t figure out how or why it happened but you’re awfully glad it did. Ronni..." Diane was going to change and say, "your father," but Ronni seemed so much more appropriate.

"Ronni was a side of your father I knew even before I "met" him. I was drawn to her as a friend, and she to me. Oh, I know you think I’m crazy…"

"No more than me, Mommy…I mean look at me and Maired." Erica referred to her relationship with Mark’s alter-ego, which had changed and grown over the past two years.

"I mean, she was so….but he…"

"You loved them both, didn’t you?" Erica said, more as a statement of understanding than a question.

"It’s so hard to describe, but yes. Sure, Daddy and I had a great life together, short as it was, but it was even more special because of my friendship with Ronni. That day in her living room I told her I wouldn’t give up on her, and I told him that I loved him. It was a brother-sister love at first, but it grew into so much more." She smiled as she remembered her first and only love.

"When your Daddy died, they brought him home with full honors. There was never a braver man that lived. You were about nine at the time, and he was so scared, not for himself, but for us. What would happen…who would take care of you?"

"Mom...Mommy, why did Daddy go…what was he doing in the Army in the first place…? He didn’t have to join?" Erica said through her own tears.

"He always wanted to do something big, but not big for himself. He wanted to do something that would have meaning. His mom always put him down…She hurt him so bad, and he wanted to prove that his life was…" Diane choked up at this point.

She hurt him so much that he could never see how important his life was." She choked back the sobs and continued.

"When we talked the day before he deployed, I reminded him of the day you were born. He had "stepped out" for a few hours, and Ronni came to the hospital for a visit. She blessed you that day, and everything she prayed for has come to pass; not because of the prayer, but to Whom she prayed. You get your sense of humor from her, you know. Your Daddy was so serious…he was so smart, even if he didn’t know it. Ronni was more fun-loving, and could make me laugh…"

Diane paused for a moment. She began to cry. "I miss them so much." She began to sob, and Erica took her mother in her arms. "I’m so…."

"Mommy…I understand….It’s okay, Mommy," Erica said as she stroked her mother’s hair.

After a few minutes, Diane spoke.

"It didn’t seem right that Ronni died without anyone caring. Her mother certainly didn’t…she didn’t even come to David’s funeral." Diane referred to her beloved for the first time by his given name. "He was a hero…he saved six lives, and she didn’t care. She never cared for him…He was always a burden to her. Your Daddy once told me that his mother always said, ‘If only I had a girl.’"

"I think Ronni was born for all the wrong reasons, but she grew up for all the right ones. She was a good girl…she became a good woman. David was really a good boy; it was so sad that his mother never realized what a good boy he was.

It was even worse that she never knew the great man he had become…." Diane tried to fight back the tears, but lost the battle. It was okay for her to lose; this moment was for her and her daughter, and crying was a sad but wonderful part of that moment.

"Ronni was the girl who died when Daddy saved all those men, wasn’t she."

"I lost the two most precious loves I ever had in that one moment. I loved them both and I miss them so much." She continued to cry. Her crying began to subside as Erica’s tears fell upon her mother’s head.

 

Erica stood next to her mother on the hillside, braving the cold. It was raining, and she pulled the coat tighter around her neck. Diane stood beside her and looked up at the sky. Raindrops covered her face as she mouthed the words, "Thank You."

They looked at the simple marker. Erica had seen it countless times before. "David Andrew McPherson, Hero. August 5, 1965 — March 3, 1991. John 15:13"

"He was such a humble man….He could have been buried at Arlington, but before he shipped out, he made me promise that if something happened to him that he would come "home," so we could spend more time with him…." She began to weep softly, but continued. "Oh honey, he grew up without hope, but his faith in God brought him full circle to the place where he had all the Hope he needed. He gave that to you, you know." Diane said, trying hard not to cry so much that she couldn’t talk. She wanted to tell Erica how much her father meant to them both, but Erica knew.

Diane grabbed her daughter’s hand and walked over to an elm tree a few paces from David’s grave. Another marker was nestled gently between two large roots. "Veronica Hope McPherson, Beloved. August 5, 1965 — March 3, 1991. "Jeremiah 29:11."

"She held you closely the day you were born. She prayed that scripture verse over you…." Erica held her mother and they wept, out of sadness and loss and grief over what might have been, to be sure, but so much more over what God had brought to both of them through the lives of….two people.

 

"Poppa, why don’t you come live with us?" Mike's daughter had just called to wish him a belated happy birthday. Barbara was sweet to offer, but relocating to Seattle from Delaware would be difficult at best. His daughter and her husband were lovely people, but they were very involved with their church, and having Dad live with them, under the present circumstances, would have made things uncomfortable, to say the least.

Mike had been widowed for five years, and he missed Janey desperately. They shared a wonderful marriage with two beautiful daughters. Barbara, the older of the two , took after Janey’s parents, and was “old school” in regard to relationships, if you follow me. Charlie, the baby of the family, had moved to Virginia Beach, much to the chagrin of her older sister and brother-in-law, since she’d moved there with her partner Beth, an adorable young lady who up until recently had been Jimmy. So how would Barbara and Jason react now that Mike was Michelle? She had been living the past eighteen months as Michelle Alluccio; feminizing her first name and using her mother’s maiden name.

Michelle anticipated that while Barbara and Jason would reject her choice, she was going to live her life the way she saw fit. Sadly, they would likely never be ready for her change. Charlie was all for it, and she and Beth had even helped Michelle locate a support community in Wilmington, along with helping her shop for a new wardrobe. It broke her heart that this choice would inevitably estrange her from Barbara. Michelle prayed about it and wept over it, and knew it was right for her, but they wouldn’t understand, so why complicate things. She fibbed, just a little.

"Sweetheart, it’s too much of a change for me. I love you dearly, but I’m really happy where I am. It’s not like I’m old, honey. I just turned fifty-one last week, and I’m in the best shape I’ve ever been in." It would have been awkward for Barbara to know that her dad's "shape" was decidedly different than what she remembered.

"Give Jason and his family my love, and hug and kiss Ashley and Joey for me, okay. I’ll be fine, sweetheart, really. I love you with all my heart, honey. I’ll talk to you soon. Bye."

Michelle hung up the phone, and walked over to the mirror in the hallway. Tears streamed down her cheeks, knowing that she would never be accepted by her older daughter. She was torn, as many of us are, when what we remember we had and lost gets in the way of what we want and need. Sadly, her loyalty to her late wife and the understandable fear of rejection from her older daughter made her begin to doubt her choice. What she needed was a different perspective, and providence was about to provide one for her.

"Did Mrs. Murphy come by for that dress we were holding?" Diane said as she was looking through some receipts. It was nearly lunchtime, and Mrs. Murphy could spend an hour or so making up her mind.

"Yes, and she bought a nice cardigan as well. She was here for just about an hour, and Lainey, God bless her heart, spent the entire time helping her." A voice came from the back.

A tall attractive blonde waddled up front; yes, she was even more attractive; glowing, some might say. April Esposito was three days past her due date, and had been spending most of her time helping out at the store with Lainey, her very nervous wife and mom/dad/whatever-to-be. Lainey had once again changed her mind, and was straddling the gender fence between being a mother and being a father, despite assurances from friends and family that she was a parent and a loving wife first and foremost.

Diane looked at the two and smiled. She loved Lainey and April’s company, and she looked forward to being a surrogate grandma for their daughter. Diane loved her friends, and she enjoyed the greatest relationship with her own daughter and son-in-law and their daughter, of course, but lately she’d been feeling…lonely. I know, it’s hard to imagine being lonely in a room full of people, but some of you already know that feeling all too well. Things were about to change, and in a way that was both touching and intriguing.

"Excuse me, can you help me? I’m trying to find the way back to Route 30. I got turned around after I got off looking to find a place to eat. And just where is a good place to eat around here?" Diane turned to see an attractive woman standing by the door. She was wearing cream linen slacks with a nice mauve cotton shirt, which was un-tucked. The woman’s hair was almost white, with very slight blonde highlights. Despite her hair color, Diane thought that the woman was about her own age, leaving the automatic “Oh, a new friend,” to come to mind. The woman looked at Diane, and she smiled warmly. There was something vaguely familiar about her; something that went all the way back to Diane’s past. The familiarity brought back glimpses of hazy snapshots of memories, but more than that, she felt a stirring that she had not felt since Ronni died; An odd but wonderfully comfortable attraction to the woman at the door.

"30’s not far from here. As a matter of fact, we’re just going out to lunch. You’re welcome to join us. The restaurant is just off the highway, so you can find your way back easy. Oh, I’m Diane…Diane McPherson. These are my partners, Lainey and April Esposito." Diane used her hand to gesture back to where the couple stood. Lainey was embarrassed, having been “caught” leaning over and cooing to her soon-to-arrive daughter through April’s Eagles sweatshirt. April smiled and rubbed her wife’s shoulder, trying to alleviate Lainey's unnecessary embarrassment. Lainey stood and smiled.

"Michelle...Michelle Alluccio. Pleased to meet all of you. And, yes, I think I'd like to accompany you fine ladies to lunch, but only if it's my treat." Michelle smiled, but she was puzzled about the vague familiarity she felt when Diane shook her hand. She looked at Diane again, and her eyes widened slightly in recognition, but she said nothing. Michelle worried that Diane wouldn’t understand, so why bring up something so awkward. She felt nervous, worrying if she might betray her secret with a word or a gesture, but fond memories of the woman before her convinced her that walking into this store was likely no coincidence. She thought about a conversation from years before.

“Mikey, you’ve got to tell her. You owe her that much.” Diane said to her friend. Ronni and Diane had met Mike for lunch at the pizza joint, and Diane was failing miserably at trying to get Mike to change his mind.

“I owe her that much not to ever bring it up.” Mike said with tears in his eyes; tears that were mirrored by the friends who sat across from him. “Janey’s parents are old school, and they would never ever understand. I love her too much to hold onto it.” Mike was caught in an un-winnable situation. He wanted to live his life with Janey as his femme self Michelle, but he was convinced that she would never accept him that way. They’d been married for two months, and his secret was buried deep down, with no chance of ever seeing the light of day.

Ronni knew from experience how difficult it was to be accepted as a woman, and lived her outward life as David, Diane’s fiancé and the father of Erica, their one year old daughter. Mike and Dave had hit it off as friends when Dave started driving for UPS, and had delivered supplies to Mike’s art studio. Their ensuing friendship grew and the dynamics changed as Diane and Ronni encouraged Mike’s femme side whenever he visited them. But things changed again when Janey came along. She was the most wonderful girl that Mike had ever known but her background as a pastor’s daughter precluded a relationship with a guy who wanted desperately to live as a girl. They really didn’t even have a word for it back in the early eighties other than the disparaging names misguided people used. So Michelle died, as it were, so that Mike and Janey could live. Mike remembered the last conversation they had before he and Janey moved away.

“Please don’t do this, Mikey. Please.” Diane had pled with him, worried that his life would be miserable without his other self. She was mostly right. While Mike would miss that part of himself, his life with Janey, as we’ve seen, blessed him with a life-long love and two beautiful children. While he wished things had been different, he never felt that Michelle would ever live another day, but Janey’s death changed that.

“What brings you up this way?” April said as she sipped her iced coffee. Michelle smiled and said,
“I’ve been widowed for nearly five years, and I just thought it was time for a change. I grew up in the Penn Wynne area, and I’ve been thinking of moving my Art Studio up this way now that my girls are out of the house.” Michelle had planned to move back eventually, but her realtor had a line on a nice property in a strip mall in the Ardmore area.
“You must miss your husband so much,” Lainey said. She usually teared up at sentimental moments, and she was true to form. She was surprised when Michelle said,
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t say….Sweetie, Janey and I were married for twenty-six years. She was the love of my life from…we were childhood sweethearts.”

Two sets of eyes widened in recognition. April had her suspicions as soon as she met Michelle, although she wouldn’t have been surprised if she was wrong, since Michelle was entirely female, if in appearance and demeanor only. April had learned the hard way not to make assumptions about anyone, especially about herself.

Diane’s eyes widened in recognition at the name, “Janey”. She looked at Michelle with her gaze filtered through the prism of memories past, and recalled a dear one who she had thought she’d never see again. She reached over and placed her hand on Michelle’s and mouthed silently with a barely discernible wink,

“Welcome home, Mikey.

"Oh, sweetie, I haven't felt like this since...." Diane touched her daughter's hand and smiled and frowned at the same time. She was having feelings for Michelle that she had thought would forever be reserved for the two loves of her life, Ronni and David. Michelle wasn’t just a vague someday possibility. True to her word, Michelle had explored and found a property to which she would relocate her art studio. She had already rented her house in Wilmington and was living in a townhouse not far from Diane and the Esposito girl's store.

In the years between Mike's marriage to Janey and move to Delaware and now, Diane had seen her own dear love go to war, only to return a hero destined for burial forgotten by everyone except a loving spouse and adoring daughter. Ronni and David, being one in the same, perished together giving "their" lives for the sake of their comrades. Twin graves rested only yards from each other, both giving testimony to the precious lives that blessed Erica and her mother. Diane felt conflicted, even though Ronni had died over twenty years ago, such was the deep love she held for her lover and the parent of her child. The memories were precious, but she felt sad to realize they were fading; remaining fond but growing softly out of focus.

It was almost as if Diane was asking her daughter permission, not to love again, but to hold onto what was no longer there. She wished she had no choice to make, but she was faced with a choice nonetheless. Michelle was here and now, and Diane found herself attracted to her; it was unlike any feeling she had ever had. She remembered Michelle as Mikey, Ronni’s and her best friend, and a man of character and kindness. But Mikey no longer existed, so to speak. In his place was an attractive woman who had sacrificed nearly a lifetime to preserve the peace and safety of his relationship with his late wife. While still honoring and treasuring her late wife's memory, she nevertheless had moved on, becoming perhaps the person she was always meant to be. This not only intrigued Diane, but it confused her. Why would she be attracted to this woman after being content for so many years as a single parent and friend to all she met? Surely she'd gotten past her own need for relationships and companionship. Yet recently, each night brought uneasiness and growing loneliness, as if those emotions were waking up after a long sleep.

"Honey, what should I do? Daddy was so special. No one could take his place." She began to cry, and Erica got up and stood over her mother and held her, kissing her repeatedly to bless and comfort her mother. She knew that her mother would never violate the loyalty she had for David and Ronni; keeping an endless, perhaps needless, vigil over their memories.

"Mommy, what was the thing that made you love Daddy the most?" She stroked her mother's hair and kissed her cheek. "What was it that made him special?" Erica already knew, having heard her mother tell the story of how she and Ronni met. She remembered how Ronni was the love of her mother's life; the interesting and wonderful part of David that filled her mother's heart with joy. Two wonderful sides of the same person who came together to fulfill her mother's need for love and acceptance.

"Ronni wanted what was best for me. She always thought of me first. She made me feel special and important and alive." Diane fought back her tears as wonderful but sad sights and sounds swept through her soul as she remembered, almost even felt, Ronni's presence.

"And what would Daddy...what would Ronni say if she were here? What do you think her answer would be?" Erica reminded her mother with that one question that it was not her permission Diane needed, even though she would gladly stand by her mother whatever choice she made. It was Ronni's permission that Diane sought, and she feared the answer, whichever it would be.

Diane had tried very hard not to fall prey to her fears, but she was almost paralyzed by a dread that she would never ever love again, and that Ronni and David would be her last true loves. She hesitated and then said quietly, hoping against hope that she was right.

“She’d want me to be happy. She always wanted to be happy. She…..loved me.” Erica held her mother tightly as they wept together, both for the grief of their loss but for the absolutely wonderful realization that the love that sustained and nurtured Diane while Ronni was alive was the same love that gave Diane permission to love again. After a few moments, they looked at each other with the same wonder on their faces: what if Michelle doesn’t feel the same way.

Across town, two young ladies were walking up the steps of the townhouse with boxes and other such things that people move. Michelle’s daughter Charlie walked into the kitchen where Michelle was sitting down at the table, drinking some iced tea.

“That’s all of it,” she said, pointing to the boxes on the floor by the stairs going up to the bedrooms. She walked over and gave Michelle a hug. Her partner Beth was just placing the last box on the kitchen table. She walked over and kissed her “mother” in-law on the cheek and smiled.

“I only hope things go….” Charlie’s voice trailed off as Beth rubbed her back and finished her sentence for her.

“You gotta tell her sometime. Barbara’s going to be awfully surprised when she and Jason and the kids come for Christmas.” Beth was a fairly level-headed practical girl, even if she had grown up a fairly nervous impractical boy. She had her final surgery only a few months before; and somehow having her own self finally settled helped get everything else settled in her mind. She knew how much Charlie loved her sister Barbara, and it pained her that she and Charlie had been rejected for being who they were.

Never a very religious person, Beth had gained a perspective in faith and forgiveness through getting to know Michelle. She somehow apprehended the truth of forgiveness and acceptance by Michelle’s example, and that translated into a new-found love of God and a deeper appreciation for Charlie as well. Charlie had grown bitter toward God over her sister's treatment of her and Beth, but Beth’s choice to forgive Barbara whatever the cost brought her close to God and brought Charlie along as well.

The two wanted so very much to be accepted, and Michelle had provided them with a tangible example of God’s love. And they both prayed that Barbara would come to understand Michelle’s decision as well. Beth had been like a daughter herself in Michelle's transition. Michelle had gotten some flack from a few of the girls in her support group since she had not planned a complete transition. Michelle was going to live as she felt was best for her, but she felt pressured until Beth reminded her that it was her life and no one else's. And who better to understand about changes and decisions than someone who had endured the insistence and interference of others. So Beth became as much an encouragement to Michelle as Michelle had been to her.

“So what’s next, Mom?” Charlie had decided that it was not only permissible, it was entirely appropriate to refer to Michelle as Mom even though she grew up loving her as her Daddy. That part would never change, really, since the person who nurtured and taught and loved and blessed was the same, even if her name and title might have changed. And of course, Charlie would treasure forever the love and acceptance she received from her dear mother Janey. Michelle looked down, almost avoiding the question. She was conflicted with the same feelings her counterpart was experiencing across town. She wanted to move on, but she also did not want to betray Janey’s memory. Charlie spoke with the authority of a peer rather than a daughter.

“I know you never wanted to do anything to hurt Mom, but you sold her short. She loved you more than anything, and I just know things might have been different.” Seeing the pain in Michelle’s eyes, she continued, “At least I know one thing for sure. She’d want you to be happy, and I can’t think of anything better than to find someone to love again, Mom and I know just who fits the bill.”

Charlie and Beth had met Diane and April and Lainey only a few days ago when Michelle first started moving into the townhouse. Diane had everyone over for dinner and new friendships were formed. And Charlie noticed that neither Diane nor Michelle could keep their eyes off each other, even if they did avert their gazes when they thought the other was looking, Charlie knew just then, even if Michelle didn’t, that Diane had fallen in love with Michelle. No need for matchmaking; proximity and mutual friendships and acquaintances would take care of the details. All they needed was a little….push.

“April stood over the table, smiling. It was almost an ironic example of payback. Months before, Diane had invited Lainey and April to dinner without telling the other. The subsequent evening proved to be the gentle nudge that their tentative relationship needed to get going, and only a few months later, Diane gave away both brides at their wedding. Now April and Lainey had spent all day planning with Charlie and Beth’s help, and a romantic dinner was planned. Diane and Michelle thought it was a nice housewarming dinner planned for Michelle in honor of her move and the opening of her Art Studio. When they arrived at Michelle’s townhouse, they were surprised to see four lovely young ladies standing at the ready to serve dinner to two adorable but nervous friends.

“I recommend the Veal Scaloppini, ma’am,” Lainey said. She even placed a towel over her arm to appear like a waitress. April arrived at the table with a nice bottle of Chianti and two glasses, while Charlie and Beth stood back, ready to serve. Both Diane and Michelle were of fair complexion, but the realization of the purpose for the meal caused them to turn almost as red as the sauce. After a few minutes of hovering, the four young ladies bade their guests farewell. April handed Diane a card while Charlie leaned over and kissed Michelle.

“Bona fortuna, momma, Vi auguriamo amore.” With that the ladies exited the kitchen and left the two alone. Diane opened the card. It was from Erica, and simply read,

“All my love, Mommy. You deserve the best, and I think Michelle’s the one.” She showed the card to Michelle, who blushed. But she also grabbed Diane gently by the hand and held it while softly caressing her fingers. Diane looked at Michelle and closed her eyes, only for a few moments. As if in a vision, she saw Ronni, not as the teenager she first met years ago, and not the young parent who left life so suddenly, but as she might appear today. And Ronni smiled at her and nodded, with tears in her eyes, not of regret or sadness, but of joy and approval. When Diane opened her eyes, she saw that Michelle was looking at her with the same look of love and acceptance she received from her first love long ago. In that moment, the two realized that love can come softly more than once in a lifetime, and they kissed. They kissed out of love and acceptance and joy and fond memories and new beginnings.

And Michelle dreamed her own dream when she slept that night. Janey was as lovely and as warm and as wonderful as she remembered. And Janey had an odd look about her. Michelle felt she was in Janey’s presence with Diane at her side, not as Michael, Janey’s dear husband, but as Michelle, her new true self. Janey looked at both of them and smiled with a look that said, “I don’t understand this, but I know I love you with all my heart, and I release you to be who you are. Farewell, my love!” Michelle woke up the next morning with her pillow wet with tears, but secure in the knowledge that most of those tears were joyful and hopeful and wonderful.

A few weeks later, several people stood in Gina and Ben’s back yard, celebrating a new beginning. Unexpected joy filled the air; the group was much bigger than expected. Diane’s son-in-law Mark escorted the bride, who was radiant. She was accompanied by Erica, her daughter and matron-of-honor, along with a nervous young lady who had never been to a wedding before oher than her own, much less been a bridesmaid. Lainey was not only nervous because of her new responsibility, but also because she was anxious after hearing the cries of her new daughter Diane Joy Esposito, who was sitting on April’s lap in the front row.

More surprising and overwhelmingly joyful, Michelle was radiant as well. A new friend, Dr. Ben Kelly, escorted this bride. She stood at the altar, flanked by her daughter Charlie, her own matron-of-honor, as well as her bridesmaid Beth. But the biggest surprise was yet to be revealed. A little girl, Ashley, walked down the aisle placing flower petals carefully. She was accompanied by a little boy, her brother Joey, who held a pillow with two rings attached.
But the best surprise came last. A sweet song was heard from the woman standing next to Michelle. Barbara sang as sweetly and joyfully as she had never sung before. And the minister who presided? Jason had decided with his wife that life was too short to hold on to things at the expense of the real treasure in life; family, friends and forgiveness.

Words (and Music) by Andrea Lena DiMaggio
From Song of Songs