Printer-friendly version

My life changed that wonderful year—the year that I stopped being Anthony and started my life as Ann.

Cross-Country: Skiing, by Karin Bishop

Part 6

Chapter 14: Shelly’s Back

There were three black Lincoln Town Cars parked at our house. I couldn’t tell if they were occupied because of the smoked windows, but there were two men in black suits watching me. I’d seen enough movies to know that their clothes said driver but their stance said bodyguard. I could feel their eyes on my back as I let myself in. What the heck was going on?

Mom was sitting on the couch, her hands folded, and looking very, very uncomfortable. Shelly was there; my initial reaction was to run over and hug her, but her body language was very, very pissed so I stood still.

She blasted me immediately. “What the hell is going on?”

I looked at Mom, who had a sad, stricken look, then back to Shelly. “Shelly, hi ...I was just asking myself the same question.”

“Are you a chick or what?”

I did a double-take at her, then looked again at Mom, who still looked helpless. “Wait, Shelly, wait—”

“I won’t wait! I’m freaking out here!”

“Yeah, I can see that. But just wait a second; Mom, what’s happened?”

Mom looked at Shelly, then at me. “Apparently Shelly ...ran away—”

“Escaped,” Shelly almost growled.

“Okay, escaped,” Mom went on. “Her father was worried; remember his phone call? And he had some …” she paused and looked out the window, “employees out looking for her. They found her—”

“Never would have caught me if I hadn’t bought you that damn top.”

“Shelly, please, let Mom finish. And what damn top?”

Mom jumped in. “Apparently Shelly was on her way to see you and bought you a present along the way. Her credit card tipped them off to her whereabouts and they waited for her here. She showed up and they hustled her into one of the cars and talked to her.”

“No kidding they talked to me! They ran a check on you, and told me you’re a boy! And what you’re up to!”

Ah. I nodded; Mom shrugged. I felt like shrugging, too. “So you’re here to yell at me, or to find out the truth?”

“Hah! I know the truth. You’re trying to pull off some scam on me.”

Mom jumped to her feet. “We are not!”

I said, “No way!” at the same time. I looked at Mom, and we both stifled a laugh.

Our laugh drove Shelly bonkers. “What? What!?”

For some reason, at that moment I realized that her life—the life of a wealthy family—was significantly more complicated than ours by the simple fact that their money made them targets. Kidnappers, con artists, you name it; every type of scam has been run on them and they get paranoid. Probably with good reason, but not this time.

As gently as I could, as non-confrontational as I could, I said, “Shelly, please settle down. I think I know what’s going on. You want some Diet Coke?”

“I won’t settle down! My father’s on his way and ...” My offer penetrated her rant, and slowed her down. Besides, she was probably thirsty after all the yelling. “Um, yeah, that would be good.”

I guess she realized how silly she looked, or something, standing in the middle of our living room, screaming. She had been loud; the proof was that one of the black suits was at our door calling her.

“Everything all right, Miss Davenport? Do you need assistance?”

I opened the door and Shelly called out, “It’s cool, Collins. Everything’s ...cool.”

He glared at me, clearly uncomfortable about Shelly being alone in our house, but said, “Your father should be here in five minutes.”

I closed the door and turned back to find that Shelly had flopped on a chair, her chin on her chest and her arms wrapped tightly around her. Mom had gone to the kitchen and returned with two glasses of Coke, handing me both and indicating that she’d be in the kitchen. I handed a glass to Shelly, who sipped, then put the glass down and to my surprise, bent over and started to sob.

“God, I really liked you! You got me good. I thought I was sharper than that. Shit.” She shook her head. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“Shelly, it’s not at all what you think.”

She looked up at me, eyes red. “Oh, yeah? So what is it, exactly, Anthony?”

God, I hadn’t heard my proper name in so long that it rocked me. At that moment, Collins knocked and called out, “Miss Davenport, your father’s here. Time to go.”

I wasn’t even going to get a chance to explain! I blurted out, “Shelly, wait, we’ve got to talk. You’ve got this all wrong! Please let me explain!”

She stood, looked at me, tears glistening on her face, and walked past me without a word. At least she didn’t slam the door. What could I do? I burst into tears. Mom rushed from the kitchen, hugging me.

“God, Mom, she wouldn’t even listen!”

“I know, honey, I know.”

We rocked back and forth in our hug and were startled by a knock.

“Mrs. Mason? May we have a word with you?”

I’d heard that voice before; it was Mr. Davenport. I had collapsed on the couch sobbing, and Mom went to the door and let him have it.

“Haven’t you people hurt my daughter enough? You had no right to destroy their friendship. You’ve got your daughter back; now leave me alone with mine. Just ...please go.”

He took her wrath quietly and surprised me with his answer. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I’m going to disobey your command for a moment. I understand your feeling strongly about this, but I think it’s important that we talk about this. We owe it to ...both our daughters.”

“Father, no! I don’t want to!” Shelly cried.

In a steely voice full of reason, he said, “Sometimes we must do things we don’t want to; you know that. This is one of them. You may also discover that you can’t believe everything you think you know. Be civil.”

Mom let them in; he gently refused her obligatory offer of coffee, and we awkwardly sat around the room. Well, I was already sitting, and Mom joined me on the couch. Mr. Davenport took the chair where Shelly had been sitting, and she preferred to stand, I guess, looking down at the floor, her cheeks flaming. There was an uncomfortable silence, and then he began in his calm, assured voice.

“I believe I may be able to put things in proper perspective; there is one thing that has me mystified but we’ll come back to that. First, for reasons of her own, Shelly decided to run away.”

“I did not run away! I asked if I could go and see Ann and you refused.”

He looked at her and spoke calmly. “Please don’t interrupt, but since you did, then answer me this, please. Did you ask me, and did I refuse?” He was obviously used to dealing with Shelly’s interruptions.

Shelly looked at the floor again; if possible her cheeks got redder. “Well, no, I asked Mother. You weren’t around,” she said accusingly, trying to regain some ground.

He paused before answering. “Yes, something I apologize for and will take steps to rectify. So, you asked your mother and she refused.” I guess he decided to gently interrogate her, rather than deal with her interruptions.

“Yes. Then she told me she was having Ann checked out. She said Ann was using me and working up a big scam.”

“Did you believe her?”

“Not then, but now—”

“Not then. So you left, anyway.”

“Sure. I wasn’t going to stay in that place with her.” Shelly’s voice dripped with venom; it was apparent to all of us how much she hated her mother. She glared at him. “Nearly two years I’ve been stuck with her! That ought to be enough!”

“How did you get to San Francisco?”

“Cab.”

“Sacramento to San Francisco? What does that run, these days?”

“I had enough cash.”

He smiled sadly. “Perhaps that’s part of the problem. But you must understand how unusual it is, to take a taxi over a hundred miles. I’m sure you paid the driver properly—and tipped properly—but you didn’t realize he had to call in to his dispatcher. So within two hours of you storming out of the house—”

“I did not storm! I just told Mother I was leaving.”

“Fair enough; a storm by her observation, a mild breeze by yours. But you made an impression; she had Collins on it right away. And he found out about the cab and took the Bell to San Francisco, so he was already in the city before you even arrived.”

“Shit,” she said.

He laughed. “Yes, indeed. And please don’t say ‘shit’. So Collins had a city-wide search net ready when you used your credit card at Neiman Marcus, alerting him to where you were.”

“That was stupid of me. I knew enough not to use the Visa or Amex; I thought a department store card was safe.”

“Shelly, every store from Neiman Marcus to K-Mart is tied into the same system. Any plastic of any kind anywhere is traceable. You should have known that; it’s one of the ways we can locate kidnappers. Remember the drill; convince them to get something on any of your cards and we can find you.”

Chilled, I thought, yes, they really did live in a different world, where kidnappers were a fact of life and they trained their children to it.

Mr. Davenport looked at Mom and me. “I was flying down from Vancouver, and one of my staff alerted me to the situation. I flew into SFO instead.”

Shelly looked at him with surprise. “Didn’t Collins tell you what was happening?”

“No, Collins belongs to your mother.”

I thought, yes, a very, very different world.

Shelly frowned. “But ...”

Mr. Davenport seemed reluctant to discuss family matters in front of us, but I guess he felt the situation warranted it. “Collins may have said an order or something came from me; but that’s untrue. I first spoke with Collins in the driveway here.” He turned to Mom. “Please understand that there is an uneasy relationship …a sort of truce between Shelly’s mother and I, concerning Shelly. Outside of that, it’s war.”

Mom looked shocked at his candor, but I already knew what he meant and nodded.

He recognized my understanding, nodded slightly to me to confirm it, then chuckled and said, “Oh, I’m sure lots of divorced couples say that, but in our case it’s fairly accurate. I think it’s no secret that we are …quite wealthy. We have a number of interests internationally, which is one reason I’m traveling so much. As our marriage …soured,” he looked at Shelly almost in apology, “my wife decided to—I guess you could say she tried to ‘cash out early.’ She attempted to force a sale of some of our holdings, without notifying the Board of Directors. Such sales were known to be against the wishes of the stockholders—and mine, as well—and now she has been using …” he paused, glanced at Shelly and decided to continue, “industrial espionage to damage the stock’s value. I believe she’s hoping to force the issue by dumping stock. Mrs. Mason, I’m going into some detail because I think you should understand our situation. Whatever troubles exist between Monica and myself should be handled between us, not at the expense of the stockholders. She forgets that people’s lives and livelihoods are at stake.”

“And she’s a bitch,” Shelly contributed.

Now he was stern. “Michelle, you must not speak that way about your mother, whatever you think.”

It was fascinating watching him; the last word of his sentence contained the candy after the medicine, so to speak. He was alerting her that he agreed with her, and she could believe her mother a bitch, but don’t say it out loud. Compared to the bumbling efforts of teenage boys, his skill at nuances of speech was impressive. And why not? He was a gazillionaire.

Mom spoke up for the first time. “Mr. Davenport, I know this must be uncomfortable for you.”

He gave her a dazzling smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Mason; I know that it must be uncomfortable for you, as well. But we’re close to the central mystery, so I’ll continue. Shelly, what did Collins tell you?”

Shelly gave me a very strange look, a combination of loathing and loss. “Collins told me that the Masons were con artists out to scam me, and that Ann was really Anthony Mason in disguise as part of the scam.”

Mom beat me to it. “That is absolutely untrue! And unfair! Who does Collins think he is, anyway?’

Mr. Davenport held up a hand. “Please calm yourself, Mrs. Mason. Collins is Monica’s creature; anything he said came from her. Uh, this next part will be embarrassing. For all of us.”

I thought I knew what was coming. “Go on, sir, please. We’ve got to straighten this mess out, however embarrassing it is for me.” I meant, embarrassing for Mom and me. “But I want Shelly to know.”

He gave me another look of appraisal, a small smile, and nodded. “When I found out about Shelly’s ...excursion, I called Monica. She’d had you folks investigated—”

“What?” I beat Mom to it, this time. “Did I ever say or do anything to Shelly to …” I couldn’t go on that way. In a small, sad voice, I said, “She’s my friend.” I paused, deflated. “Or …was.”

He was uncomfortable. “I’m sorry about the investigation. It’s just something we have to do. Any new acquaintance must be investigated. You don’t realize how often we’re targeted.”

Mom said, “Still, that gives you no right—”

I laid a hand on her arm, quieting her. “Mom, it’s alright; I understand. Look, their life is totally different from ours. They’re sort of like movie stars, where every distant acquaintance claims a relationship, and every crook crawls out of the woodwork to try to get their money. Some people try it with sympathy, or investing, or extortion, or ...or kidnapping. So they have to take security precautions and build a wall around themselves. Remember that Brad Pitt interview we saw the other day? About the layers of security they had to add when they got kids? But Shelly’s family, they’re kind of worse off than movie stars, because everybody knows about the stars and feels kind of protective about them. But nobody knows the Davenports.” I turned to them. “Sorry, but you know what I mean.”

Mr. Davenport nodded encouragingly, and I went on. “So they’re easier targets. And they probably have more money than the movie stars; remember when what’s-his-name had to sell his mansion because he couldn’t keep up payments, although he had the number one movie?”

Mom nodded. “And he said that the studios used ‘creative accounting’ so the movies never showed a profit.”

“Right. Anyway, the Davenports are marked because they’re rich—way richer than movie stars. And they’re kind of anonymous, unlike stars, so people aren’t aware of what could happen to them. I guess they’re right, that there are lots of people trying to scam them. Probably for every rich guy there’s ten crooks out to get him. And I just thought of something else: If their businesses are international, and with different boards of directors …they probably have lots of people trying to take them down. And since the business is more important than anything—I mean, huge sums of money involved, and all the jobs—they’re not above using dirty tactics to force things. So the Davenports naturally checked us out because of my friendship with Shelly. It’s just a …normal part of their life.”

Mom said, “But investigating us? That’s an invasion of privacy.”

I rolled my eyes. “Mom, imagine that right now I introduced you to a boy I liked.” I was really going out on a limb here, and she knew it; Shelly stiffened and I knew I had her attention, too. “Okay, the boy goes home after meeting you. What’s the first thing you say?”

“Well, I guess I’d say he seemed like a nice boy. How did you meet him?”

“And what else?”

“Well ... where did he live, what did his parents do, that sort of thing.”

“So you’d want to know his background, right? And if you found out that one of the ladies at the salon knew the family, you’d ask her about them, right?”

She laughed and blushed. “Okay, okay; you got me! Yes, I’d want to check him out. But just for your safety!”

“Same thing here, Mom! The Davenports just checked us out, for Shelly’s safety. So, lighten up,” I kidded.

Mom frowned. “Yes, but to make claims that we’re con artists ...!”

Mr. Davenport jumped in. “I’m afraid that an unfortunate side effect of our ...lifestyle ...is a significant amount of paranoia. It can keep us safe,” he said, and turned to Shelly, “but it can poison our relationships.”

Shelly said, slowly, “So there’s no con?”

Mom said, “No, dear, we’re not con artists.”

Almost at the same time, Mr. Davenport said, “No, they’re not con artists.”

They looked at each other and laughed at saying the same thing at the same time.

I was looking at Shelly, who was looking at me. It was tense; I knew what was coming.

“So what about the other thing?” Shelly said. “What about ‘Anthony’?”

Still holding her eyes, I said, “That’s true and not true.”

Mr. Davenport said, “Yes, that’s the mystery, isn’t it?” He looked at me, studying me.

Shelly challenged me. “Well?”

I was framing my answer when Mr. Davenport said to me, in a surprisingly gentle tone, “You don’t have to do this, Ann.”

I was surprised he’d think that. “Of course I do, Mr. Davenport. Shelly’s my friend. Or at least,” I said, looking at her, “I hope she can be again.”

It took me a bit to gather my thoughts; mercifully they all gave me silence. Feeling exposed, vulnerable, and miserable, I swallowed and began.

“I was born Anthony David Mason. Everybody called me Tony, by the way.” I didn’t dare look at Shelly or I’d lose it. I swallowed again. “Every minute of every day I was miserable, because I knew that I’d been born in the wrong body, or at least was being raised the wrong way. Sorry, Mom; you know what I mean.”

“Yes, dear; I do. Go on.”

Here came the really embarrassing stuff. “When I was born my genitals ...my ...penis—” Shelly gasped but I continued, “was very small and, well, not formed very well. But it was enough for the doctors to declare me a boy and so Mom raised me as a boy and I had to go to school as a boy.”

Mom reached over and squeezed my hand.

“But inside I was miserable, because I knew I was a girl. I knew it just as surely as you know you’re a girl, Shelly. But everybody treated me like a boy. Of course, the boys in the neighborhood treated me like I was a scrawny wimp, which I guess I was, technically, so I got beat up a lot. Got called lots of ugly names. And I thought about killing myself.”

Mom tightened her squeeze.

“I tried to keep it together, but I could feel my life slipping away; there was no point to it. When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I …borrowed a dress from a girl at school and for a little bit of time, at least, I could be the girl that I knew I was. Finally I broke down and told Mom. I was …maybe getting close to suicide. You see, I love her so much that I didn’t want to kill myself without telling her why, because it wasn’t her fault. Anyway, I ...dumped all over her and she still loved me!” I looked at her warmly and squeezed back. “Anyway, she got me to some doctors and I was diagnosed as being transgendered. Classic, they said. Should have been discovered long ago, they said. And the doctors started me on hormones and allowed me to start living as a girl. And that’s basically it.”

Shelly’s brown wrinkled. “Um ...”

I knew why she hesitated. “Yeah, I still have …that penis. I want it gone, but the surgery’s in the future, because of my age.” That was kind of true, I didn’t tell her the other reason—that it was too expensive. “Gotta be eighteen for the surgery. But my breasts are mine. My curves are mine. And my hair is definitely mine. Basically, what you see is what I am. Who I am—and I am Ann Mason.”

Shelly was having trouble arranging her feelings.

“Shelly, look; this is all coincidence. There’s no con involved; I mean, the only con was me pretending to be a boy all those years. But that’s changed and I’m Ann, not Tony. My legal documentation has been changed, my school records and all that. I am Ann Elizabeth Mason. That’s what I meant by Anthony being true and not true. Anthony is dead, gone, and should never have been. I got robbed of my girlhood, but, hey, I’m just so glad to be having a life as Ann.”

Mom spoke up for the first time. “And I’m so glad to have my happy daughter.” She looked at Shelly directly. “Instead of a dead son.”

There was a moment of silence and then in a very small voice, Shelly said, “Sorry.” There were tears in her eyes, and her cheeks again burned with shame.

Mr. Davenport said to us, “Please be understanding with Shelly. Apparently, Shelly’s mother passed on a portion of the information, along with her paranoia and ...hatred of me, to Collins, who is known to be a homophobe. I would never employ a man like that; he has a history of …gay-bashing. I think he probably put an extra nasty spin on everything he told Shelly.”

He now spoke directly to his daughter. “Michelle, listen to me.” His voice was that combination of steel and reason that I’d noticed earlier. “Everything you heard from Collins was twisted and wrong. Wrong. My staff investigated your mother’s investigations, and I can confirm everything Ann just told you. There was no attempt to con, scam, dupe, or whatever, either monetarily or sexually. Ann Elizabeth Mason is a healthy, heterosexual girl with a slight physical abnormality.”

“Like a sixth finger,” I volunteered.

He chuckled. “Yes, I understand that’s an apt analogy. So, Michelle, there’s nothing gay involved; if Ann is interested in a boy it’s because that’s what girls do. That’s what you do, and Ann is a girl just like you. Right?”

She mumbled, “Right.”

“Do you understand me, Michelle? Friendships are so very rare for people like us. The two of you have a genuine friendship; anybody can see that. No matter how briefly you’ve known each other, your connection is real. Part of the hurt you’re feeling is because you thought her friendship wasn’t real.” He looked at me, smiled, and back to Shelly. “I’m pretty good at reading people, and I can tell you Ann is very much your friend. A genuine friend. Please don’t throw away your friendship with Ann because of your mother’s venom. It’s done enough damage already.”

I could tell it was hard for Shelly, since we were all looking at her. “Okay. But there’s one thing I want to know.”

“Yes?” I said. We all leaned forward.

“What’s the deal with that Jeff guy?”

I almost exploded with laughter. They all looked at me strangely until I proceeded to tell her and Mom about what had just happened at the mall with Jeff. Mr. Davenport excused himself midway through, to make some calls, and by the time he came back the three of us were laughing about my mall encounter with Jeff—Mom had tears she was laughing so hard—and finishing our second glass of Diet Coke.

Shelly saw her dad, excused herself and took him outside for a few minutes. Mom looked at me.

“This has been a hell of a day for you.”

“Mother! Ladies don’t say ‘hell’,” I said, pretending to be haughty.

She laughed again, wiping tears from her eyes. “Yes, they do, if the situation warrants. And my lord, does this situation warrant! A hell of a day!”

Chapter 15: The Storm’s Aftermath

Shelly and her father came back in, and Shelly asked me to come outside with her. She put her arm around me and walked me to the Men in Black.

“Hey, Collins,” she called to the leader. “I want you to meet someone.”

I wasn’t too happy about this, knowing now what I did about Collins, but I thought I knew what she was up to, so I trusted her.

Collins walked up to us, a sneer in his voice, if not on his impassive face. “Yes, Miss Davenport?”

Shelly presented me to Collins. “This is Ann Mason, my really good girlfriend Ann, and I think you two should meet.”

I said politely, “Mr. Collins.”

He stared at me, suddenly indecisive now that he was seeing me up close.

Shelly said triumphantly, “What’s the matter, Collins? Afraid of a girl? Because Ann is a girl. What did you think she was, some gay boy? Is that what my mother told you?”

He hesitated and then nodded, very confused.

“Geez, that figures. Look, Collins, Ann and I met skiing—in fact, she met both of my parents. We’re really good friends and I just wanted to see her, but my mother wouldn’t allow it. So I split. And she knows how you feel about gays, so she figured that telling you Ann was a gay boy con artist would …focus your concentration, shall we say? That’s all there is to it, got it? No scam, no con, no drag queens, no kinky sex. Sorry.”

She ended by casually shrugging and smiling.

He was lost. “Well, I ...please understand, Miss Davenport, that I was operating on information that ...I’m sorry if there was any misunderstanding. It’s, uh …a pleasure to meet you, Miss Mason.”

Now he held out his hand and I shook it, like a girl. To nail down the coffin lid, I turned to Shelly and, all innocently, said, “He told you I was a drag queen? No way!”

“Way!” Shelly laughed, and we walked back to the house. Out of earshot of Collins, she said, “Had to do that. It keeps him off balance, and makes him doubt my mother.” She chuckled at that. “And looking at you, he’ll never believe ...well, you know, about Anthony.”

I grinned at her to put her at ease. “You know, Shell, sometimes I don’t even believe about Anthony, anymore.”

She was still laughing as we went back inside to find her dad and my mom in a discussion that must have been about us, because they shut up and put on phony looks on their faces.

“Okay, you guys, what’s up?” Shelly demanded, putting her fists on her hips.

Mom looked at Mr. Davenport and actually blushed. “Honey,” she said to me, “we were just discussing where to go from here. There seems to be little doubt that if Shelly continues to stay with her mother, she won’t be able to see you anymore.”

“I’m not going to stay with her anymore, anyway!” Shelly said to her father. “Please, Dad! I can’t stay with her!”

“Michelle, you know there are difficulties, and you’ve compounded them by running away.”

“I did not run away! I just came to see Ann.”

“I know, dear, but you’re a minor, and your mother will still consider it running away, and I’m sure she’ll blame Ann. Honey, it’s imperative that you listen to my instructions, painful though they may be. First, you must allow Collins to return you to your mother.”

“But—”

“Sorry, honey, but you know that’s got to happen. Second, you’ve got to be on your best behavior—that means no more running away—or going to see Ann—” he headed off her objection, “—while you’re with your mother while my lawyers work their magic. Third, if all goes according to plan, you’ll come live with me.”

“Back in LA?” She gave a dejected sigh.

He ignored the sigh. “No, as a matter of fact, in San Francisco; I’m relocating to work closer with the Asian community. I just concluded the acquisition of significant holdings in the Pacific Rim.”

Shelly looked at me, eyes wide. “That means ...cool!”

I looked right back at her. “We can get together!” I turned to her father. “I mean …if your dad allows it.”

Mr. Davenport nodded. “Yes, but remember—it won’t be right away; you’ll both have to be patient. I was serious about you returning with Collins; that means you only have a few minutes left. And, uh ...I need to speak with Ann’s mother for a moment.”

That was obviously our cue to disappear. Shelly followed me to my bedroom, and I was struck by how bare and neutral and tiny it probably was, compared to wherever Shelly lived. I apologized for the room, and Shelly waved away my apologies. She flopped down on the bed just like I would, and I sat down by the headboard.

“What is that all about?” Shelly asked.

“What?”

“My dad and your mom. Something’s going on.”

“Well, if it means we can hang together, I don’t mind.”

“Me, either. But you don’t suppose ...nah, couldn’t be.” She looked at my puzzled expression. “I thought for a moment that maybe they were interested in each other, but that couldn’t be it.”

“Why not? My mom’s cool, and your dad ...wait a minute; Shelly, when I first met you, you said he had a girl stashed away.”

Shelly looked at the floor and blushed. “I know. That was stupid. Mean and stupid. Just like Mom, and I don’t want to be like her. God, I’ve got to get away from her; it’s like she infects me! Okay, well …yeah, he did have a woman in a room waiting for him. His secretary, Mrs. Havelock. A super-efficient, serious old biddy of an executive secretary. I think she was around in the Lincoln Administration. Dad doesn’t have girlfriends, at least none that I’ve ever heard of, and certainly not bimbos. Actually, I don’t think he’s dated at all, that I know of. But up skiing, I was just so pissed at both of them, so I tossed off that thing about the girl, just to hurt him. He’s really a good guy. I just don’t know how he married my mother.”

“Simple. He had to.”

“What do you mean?” she said, her brow wrinkling.

“Oh, I don’t mean it in the usual way; I just meant that he had to marry your mother so you could be born. You wouldn’t be you without those two. Maybe your mom changed over time; I know my father did. My mom even said that he stopped being the man she’d married. But I should shut up; I shouldn’t talk about your family.”

“No, it’s okay.” She paused. “Shit. Now I’ve got to ride home with Collins. And face the Beast. And pretend to like it there.”

“Well, it won’t be quite so bad, if you know it’s only temporary. You know; the light at the end of the tunnel sort of thing.”

Just then Mr. Davenport called Shelly. We walked back out to the living room, Mr. Davenport shook hands with Mom, Shelly and I hugged, and I walked her out to the car. Collins had already been briefed, so he was a lot more respectful now, and I decided to let him off the hook after he’d closed the door behind Shelly.

“Take care of her, okay?” I asked Collins, who immediately smiled and nodded.

“Count on it, Miss Mason. Pleasure meeting you. I’m sorry about ...”

I waved my hand. “Don’t worry about it. Don’t know how it happened; don’t care.”

He looked at Shelly in the car and back to me. “She’s lucky to have a friend like you.”

“Thanks. I never thought I’d say this, but I just wish I lived in Sacramento!”

Mom had come out, and Mr. Davenport shook hands with her once more, and I couldn’t help but think they held the handshake a little bit longer than usual. Maybe I was reading things into it. He came over to me.

“Shelly’s lucky to have a friend like you, Ann.”

I had to laugh. “Collins just said the same thing!”

He was surprised. “Collins did? Well, I guess you charmed him. I can understand that.” He grinned at me, turned to look at my mother, then back to me. “Ann, I don’t know if you ... never mind. I really have to leave now, and your mother has things to discuss with you.”

I held out my hand to shake his, like a girl should, and he walked to his limousine and disappeared through the door. Mom came over to me.

“Interesting guy, Mom,” I said.

I glanced at her and saw that she was blushing a little.

“Yes, he is.”

Ooh! There was an interesting silence. I broke it. “Mom, it’s okay.”

“What is?”

“It’s okay if you want to date Mr. Davenport. And it’s okay if you ...want to do more.”

She turned and looked at me, her head tilted. “Am I that obvious?”

“To your daughter,” I grinned.

She smiled and hugged me. “I love you, Ann.”

“I love you, too, Mom.”

We were quiet for a moment, then she said, “Honey ...” and stopped.

“What?”

“Do you still want to go all the way, you know, with surgery?”

“You have to ask? Yes, absolutely. More than ever!”

“Are you sure? Remember, there’s no going back.”

“Going back to what? I’m finally, really me. Why would I go to not being me?”

She nodded, watching the procession of black cars pull out. The little question-and-answer we’d just done was something I was used to. She didn’t doubt me, but I knew the doctors wanted her to check periodically.

But why here, why now? It seemed sort of out of the blue …

Oh, God! Could Mr. Davenport have—

Her smile interrupted my thought. “I knew all that, but still, I’m required to ask.” She reached up and squeezed my arm gently. “Then you’d like me to make some calls in the morning?”

“Calls?” It couldn’t be …it couldn’t mean …

“We may have some …new avenues to explore,” she said, choosing her words carefully.

My eyes widened and my breath caught and was all I could do to keep from hopping with excitement.

“Mom, if it’s about fully becoming Ann, I’ll even dial the phone for you!”

The End

---

If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudo!
Click the Good Story! button above to leave the author a kudo:
And please, remember to comment, too! Thanks.