The chapter brought to you courtesy of the United States Postal Service.

Cometh the Hour Cometh the Woman: Part 15

[***][***][***]

Karen and Rachel decided to use the few days of the Fourth of July holiday to affect their move. Which meant, of course, that both their fathers did most of the heavy lifting while both of their mothers supervised, and the girls themselves ran about like exited kittens at the first sign of their new post parent independence. Daddy Dale ended the afternoon by trying to slip Rachel a fifty out of the sight of his wife and failed, he apparently could have gotten away with it, but Mommy Dale had already given her a hundred, and was feeling a bit put off by her daughters successful begging campaign. Which just goes to show you that independence had its place, but cash money was still king.

When it was discovered that I was an orphan and functionally abandoned by my husband half a continent away, I was virtually adopted on the spot by Mrs. Steiner. After the move was completed, we were all invited back to their house in West Omaha for a barbeque, and to watch the fireworks. The city of Omaha, in a brief fit of municipal responsibility, had outlawed fireworks within the city limits. So the best shows were always out west in that part of the county where the neighborhoods were unincorporated. It seemed to be a law that these normally sedate Cornhuskers were happy to disobey though, and I really didn’t think a good example was set by the boys at the fire station which seemed to have the biggest explosions of them all.

We stayed up until 11:P.M., watching my countrymen spend a couple billion dollars worth of Chinese trade goods in our annual anniversary celebration of the War of American Rebellion. Then stuffed to the point where I felt I was about to explode myself, I pled fatigue, quite truthfully as the pregnancy was starting to take it out of me. We three girls piled into Melanie for our ride back to the house. Karen had taken my “old” room and Rachel one of the others. I had sort of felt like an interloper these last few weeks, and it was nice to have someone else in the house with me now. Maybe I could now stop turning around corners late at night and expect to see ghosts lying in wait. The next morning we still had the day off, and Rachel has volunteered to make breakfast.

Results were mixed

“I’m soooo sorry!” she said close to tears.

“It’s all right,” I tried assuring her. “Scrambled eggs are probably better for you when they are cooked brown. Kills all that salmonella they keep talking about on the news.”

“The bacon shouldn’t be black though,” she countered.

“Well, bacon is bad for us anyway,” Karen interjected.

“Still, I’m so sorry. I wanted to make a good impression. I’m just not the domestic type of person. If this was chem lab, I could probably make an explosion out of household goods. Cooking was never my strong suite.”

Rachel Dale was one of those girls in high school that every guy SHOULD have been dating, but seldom did. She wasn’t ugly; there were no pustules on her face, buck teeth or bad breath. She had a pleasing enough face, even had a decent set of knockers. But she just wasn’t pretty enough for the impossible standards that the beautiful people set. And she was terribly self conscious about that. She must have joined the cheerleaders in an attempt to better her standing. I could tell she that would have felt more comfortable in the math club, she just needed someone to tell her that.

“Well, I’ll be honest with you,” I smiled at her while looking her directly in the eye. “I was sort of expecting Julia Child to move in with me and shower me with delicious dainties whenever the whim should call me. But unfortunately, someone told me she’s been dead for years. So I’ll just have to put up with you. This really isn’t bad for a first attempt, Rachel, At least you made mistakes in the right direction and overcooked instead of under. Pork and eggs both can get REALLY dangerous if you don’t cook it for long enough.”

“I remembered that!” she said to me. “I actually studied some of… never mind.” she said shaking her head.

“No never mind,” I argued with her. “You don’t have to hide your brain with me if you want to keep trying to cook. I think you can do it. Most of it is just following instructions. If you treat it like a chemical formula, I think you will do better. Such and such ingredients heated to this temperature for this amount of time. Cooking is more science than art, I don’t care what that prick Gordon Ramsey says.”

“Really?” she asked.

“Yes, really. I’ll pick up some cookbooks next time at the library. I’m sure there is something for people just starting out. In the meantime, as far as cooking instructions go, half a pint of milk added to one bowl of cereal will win the day. Theirs a box of Cheerios in the cabinet, next to the refrigerator.”

“Sure,” she said giving me a hug. It was still a pretty freaky experience for me to be hugged at the drop of a hat. Particularly the feeling of both our sets up boobs being crushes up against each other. One of the many things that I still had to get used to since it appeared I would be in this body for the long haul. Rachel got me my cereal, and I was contemplating soaking the bacon in the milk to see if it could be brought back to life. I was just about to try it when Karen came back into the kitchen with a stranger following her.

“Katie,” she said to me while laying The World Herald on the table. “I went outside to get the newspaper, and a car was just pulling up. She said she needed to speak to you.”

She, was an athletic young woman in Capri pants and a navy blue top which was appropriate I guess. Because she was the midshipman who I had last seen locking face with my husband.

“Karen…Rachel please leave us alone,” I said coldly while putting my spoon down and standing up to face the woman. “And whatever you do don’t let me in the garden until this person leaves.”

[***][***][***]

There was sort of an awkward silence.

Followed by even more.

The young woman, girl, really since she was about 18, had the good grace to look down at my kitchen floor. She didn’t seem interested in changing views anytime soon. It was obvious she was embarrassed to be here, but something had caused her to come all the way out to Omaha. I suppose I needed to find out. While I was still looking for one last roommate, I wasn’t going to cheat by letting a girl set up shop in my kitchen merely because she was too frightened to move.

Plus her being a walking homicide target.

“You obviously know who I am if you came all the way out here and directly to my house,” I said finally which caused her to jump up and look at me. “So, what’s your name, Sunshine?”

“I…ah,” she mumbled hesitantly.

“SNAP TO PLEBE!” I shouted in my best D.I. impression.

“Everhardt! Samantha D.” she stated forcefully out of instinct.

“Well Everhardt, Samantha D. Why are you here?”

“I…I had a three day leave for the holiday. I live in Missouri, so I decided to drive up and speak to you."

"Missouri?"

"Yes, I started off at 5: A.M. so I would have time enough to get back to my flight.”

“Since when do they let fourth class midshipmen go on leave after only a month of plebe summer?”

“My father… he asked for it.”

“Your father?” I questioned her closely.

“The Admiral,” she clarified for me. “I wanted to speak to you about… about your husband.”

“Do you? If you’re trying to blackmail me so that he won’t lose his place if you tell the academy we were married, you can forget it. I don’t really care at this point if he gets dinged.”

“I’m not going to tell anyone, Ma’am,” she said as she started to look down at the floor again. “I came here to explain to you what happened when he gave me that ride.”

“I could see what happened,” I replied frostily as I looked forlornly at the rack of kitchen knives by the sink.

“And it was exactly what it looked like, in every particular.”

Well fuck you too bitch!

“At least on my part,” she finished dejected.

“Oh?” I asked suspiciously.

“Yes,” she said as she looked me in the eye as a little fire started burning again. I was starting to worry that the admission standards had slipped. “Look, I put the moves on him, certainly. I’m sure you don’t need to be told how cute a guy Thomas is. Everyone noticed, and being a General’s son… there was a bet going on in women’s country. First to make time with him got almost 500 bucks and bragging rights, forever. I thought I had the inside track when I convinced him to give me a ride to pick up a few things in town. I moved in and gave him my full blast. I guess you saw that, he never knew you were coming to visit. But he also didn’t kiss back! I’m sure you know what it’s like when a guy gives you his full attention. But Thomas, it was like kissing a corpse! There was no give back. So, I went in even harder, and he sat there like it was a total surprise. like he didn’t know what to do when a girl kissed him. Right around then is when he saw you…”

“Which also must have been a surprise.”

“It was!” she shouted back excited, then wilted a bit. “You put him in sick bay you know. He was out of action for three days. He wouldn’t tell the police who did it to him, and I… I didn’t know your name either. But I had your ring, so I could have guessed. If I told them, they would have told the Navy and… The first few weeks Thomas was like a god, charging twice as hard as anyone, tops in everything. That bet was getting bigger every night! And when he came off the sick list, it was like he was a puppet with his strings cut off. Lagging behind, last in several things. He’s in real danger of… he’s in trouble.”

“Sounds like it,” I agreed unemotionally.

“I was able to get him alone one afternoon and talk to him about it all. That’s when I found out about you, and everything.”

“Everything?” I asked raising an eyebrow.

“Everything important,” she replied waiving her hand. “That you thought he was cheating on his pregnant wife with a female midshipman, said female midshipman who you yourself should have been, if the situation was different. And that you refused to take his calls. You have to talk to him! It’s my fault he’s like this! He didn’t do anything wrong! He won’t look at another woman, now, and he never really did before. That’s one of the things that kept driving the betting! Some us thought he was gay! And that it would be a bigger challenge. Susan Rogers thought she saw him checking out another guys but.”

'Oh great!'

“But anyway,” said Samantha. “If you want to blame someone blame me, he didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t do anything wrong, either, at least I didn’t think so at the time. I didn’t know he was off limits, but then… he can’t exactly advertise that he’s married.”

“No,” I agreed with her.

“I have to go, I will have to break speed limits as it is to get back to K.C. in time. Please call him or write to him or something. It wasn’t his fault…"

[***][***][***]

Midshipman Everhardt left as quickly as dignity would allow. I picked up my spoon to finish my breakfast, but my heart wasn’t really in it, and the baby was making me nauseous again. Eventually, I sensed a presence in the entryway to the dining room and cleared my throat.

“How much of that did you girls hear?” I asked them.

“Most of it,” said Karen embarrassed. “I tried not listening, but, well, it was like one of those soaps my mom is addicted too.”

“Well, I’m happy to be entertaining!” I shouted out shrilly. “Let’s post this all to the internet so the whole world can know!”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Rachel asked as she moved in close for another hug sneak attack.

“Short story, even shorter,” I said briskly. “We were high school sweethearts who were going to conquer the world together. I 'got myself pregnant', got married, he went to the Academy while I came home to have the baby. A few weeks ago, I caught him lip locked with that… woman. We haven’t spoken since, and I guess you heard her explanation.”

“Do you believe her?” asked Karen.

“I… want to get drunk.” I sighed noisily while I cupped by belly with both hands.

“I have something even better,” offered Rachel. “Scientifically proven.”

“And what could that be?”

“Chocolate!”

Reader, as much as I hated to give into the stereotype it WAS better.!

[***][***][***]

The good doctor Lyons made no comment about me still being under her care the next week, and during my visit I had my first baby pictures. They were an amorphous blob. I could only sort of make out the baby’s head, that was it. It wasn’t exactly filling my heart with maternal joy… still, I had them make extra copies when asked. And made sure to put them in a safe place.

“You’re still on track for a healthy delivery Katie,” said Dr. Lyons happily. “Don’t you know we doctors have expensive second homes to make payments on? Can’t you manage even small infection? Or perhaps a suspicious rash?”

“I’ll do my best doctor,” I assured her.

“The only slightly worrisome thing is that you are a bit underweight for where you should be at this stage.”

“Are you telling me that I need to eat MORE? My roommates are already comparing me unfavorably to the linebackers of their acquaintance.”

“Just a bit more, the cliché of ‘eating for two’ is actually not true, but with the physical activity you do, and your teenage metabolism, you’re burning off more calories than most women in your situation. If you’re still underweight at your next checkup, I may prescribe a couple of gallons of ice cream. That’s a prescription I expect you to fill young lady!” she said as she shook her finger at me.

“Yes Ma’am,” I answered as subdued as I could while keeping a straight face.

“I had a good look while the camera was taking those pictures. Do you want to know your babies sex?”

“I… yes doctor I believe I would.”

“You’re having a girl!” she stated enthusiastically.

“A GIRL!” I said shocked. What the hell was I going to do with a girl?

“You seem surprised,” Lyons asked concerned. “Most mothers actually prefer a little girl.”

“It was, just a sort of a shock,” I said thinking on my feet. “When it was just ‘the baby’ it was mostly intellectual, but when you said I was having a girl, it sort of brought forth the idea that I would have to be the mother of one.”

'And what in God’s name did I know about how to raise a girl? The last princess tea party I had been too I had saturation bombed with water grenades.'

“I know, it was the same way with me,” Lyons said, trying to be comforting. “But you lucked out a bit. I have had similar situations where the father is in the military and away for much of a child’s developmental period. There have been numerous studies, and if you were having a boy who was lacking a strong father figure, things would have been much more difficult for you. But a mother raising a girl on her own is much easier, psychologically speaking.

Except on the mother!

“So, no warning signs of eclampsia?” I asked cautiously.

“None whatsoever, as long as you continue to take good care of yourself, you will be a mother by Christmas.”

I tried not to think of that as a prison sentence.

[***][***][***]

What I was also trying not to think about and failing was Thomas. ‘Everbitch’s’ visit had turned the world upside down for me, again. It seemed we two would be forever fated to hurting each other with our love. I felt that I had given and gotten many chances, and we had both blown them all. I’m not sure I had it in me for another go.

That night, after class, I returned home to a meal that was actually tolerable. Rachel was getting much better when she realized she didn’t need to be up to Food Network standards. She had taken one of my pregnancy cookbooks and went to town with it. I followed my doctor’s orders as best I could. Later that night, in Martin Scott’s former office, I hand wrote a letter to my husband on some the expensive stationary that my body’s father had left behind.

Thomas,

It has been sometime since we last spoke.

Ah, hell baby! That makes it sound more civilized than it was. It’s been a few weeks since I kicked the shit out of you. Though, hopefully not literally, as those white uniforms look to be a pain to clean. You know why of course. I came to surprise you on your first liberty and saw you with… that woman. Who I had better not see you with, AGAIN! She visited me a few days ago. Said there was a bet among the women midshipmen as to who could make time with you first. Well, she won and we both lost. I don’t really want to speak of that again.

We’re having a baby, but I guess you knew that. Today, though, I was told it’s going to be a girl, that kind of knocked me over. I had thought about the possibility, of course, but I was kind of hoping it was going to be a boy. I knew sort of, how to raise a boy. All you need is a couple pounds of mud and several hundred band-aids mixed together and you had happy boyhood. But a girl?

I’m still scared to death to enter a public ladies room, how am I going to raise a little girl alone? Well, the answer I came up with is I’m not. I was hoping you would be around to help me. We’ve hurt each other, A LOT! But before that we loved each other even more. I’m going to ask for one last chance for me, and offer once last chance for you. I’m going to take any phone calls you make, but in case you have stopped trying, I’m writing this letter. We may not make it, but we owe to ourselves to try.

XOXO
Your loving wife
Katherine

P.S. I am told you are wasting away for want of me. Kick it into gear Marine! My baby girl is not going to have a washout for a father!

I sealed it with a kiss and had even wore some lipstick for the occasion. Tomorrow morning, I would take it to the post office and send it to Annapolis by next day air with a signature confirmation. It would be waiting for him at the campus post office, and I would have proof that he received it in a few days. If I didn’t hear back from him in a week, I would speak to DeGeas and file for divorce. And probably die of a broken heart.

[***][***][***]

Today was Saturday, and the Post Office was still open in the morning, so I dropped of my letter and prayed that no one there was feeling grouchy today. Afterwards, I went shopping at Target, somehow or other, I had fallen into the role of providing all the food for the girls. I supposed I could force them to chip in, but thought better of it, and kept it in reserve in case I needed to guilt them into late night feedings somewhere down the line. I had to imagine the baby would be a fussier eater than a couple of teenage girls.

Probably…'

When I was shopping, I found this rig by Swiss Gear. It was a black and red full sized backpack. With rigging, waist support and everything, it had a little cushioned compartment for my laptop with all sorts of pockets for all its attachments, as well as ample cargo room forward to place an entire days textbooks. In addition, it had plenty of room left over for all the odds and sods that I had been forced to carry around since my conversion. With one purchase, I had filled the needs of book bag, laptop case and purse. Hey! I was getting better at this girl shit!

I pulled up to the house, and my usual slot in the garage was blocked in by a strange car. This was getting to be a more and more usual occurrence since I formed my own little sorority. The situation would only get worse when Jo Ann and Laura moved in from Grand Island. This car was teenage kid standard. The type of car Mommy and Daddy bought for being functionally indestructible, mostly because it was half wrecked already. When you first let my demographic out on the road, you don’t let them have nice things unless you have more money than sense.

Don’t look at me like that, I’m different, I can drive!

This car though, had a side panel that had come from a different colored car, and the wheelhouses were starting to rust pretty badly. There was also what appeared to be a little nest in the back seat made out of a few blankets, and several sets of women’s clothes. And I didn’t know what to make of that. I entered the kitchen through the garage door and sounded off to the first girl I saw.

“Karen!” I said handing her a shopping bag. “If you want to eat tonight, help me unload the jeep, please. And who owns that P.O.S. that’s blocking me out?”

“New girl, saw our posting for a room to rent,” she said taking the bag and beginning the process of storing the goods.

“Does this one look like she can pass the background check?” I asked ambivalently. “The last three couldn’t get past the DeGeas Gestapo.”

“Don’t know,” she said walking with me to Melanie for the rest of the bags. “She did ask about our L.G.B.T. policy.”

I had been raised among people where such things were not talked about, so it took me a minute to translate what all that acronym meant.

“Well,” I said indecisive as I looked at her. “What IS our L.G.B.T. policy?”

“Sort of up to the landlady isn’t it?” she hedged wonderfully while giving an Air Force salute by shrugging her shoulders.

“This place runs more like a hippie commune than a well brought up Marine should find comfortable. This affects you girls more than it does me. I’ve got the master bedroom and my own in suite bathroom. Plus, if I get too out of joint, I can always kick her out. You won’t have that option, and depending upon the room arraignments could well be leered at while you are in various stages of undress.”

“Just between you and me, Katie,” Karen said with a grin as we set the last bags on the counter. “It’s a bit late in the day to start worrying about that… like from day one at the coffee shop.”

“Oh…” I said having some of my suspicions confirmed.

“Don’t tell anyone, but Daddy would disapprove and Mother…heck, she would probably want to help me pick out an outfit for walking in the parade. I’m not sure which would be worse.”

“Well,” I said trying to gather my thoughts. “None of my business.”

“It could be,” she said smiling at me. “But anyway, about this one, as long as there are no unwanted advances, or at least she takes no for a no, I don’t anticipate there being any problems on that front. And besides, won’t you get in trouble for discrimination if you refuse on that basis?”

“No, DeGeas explained it to me, it’s why we can also refuse for several things we find on the background check that are not actually illegal. Because this is my primary residence, and not a for profit business like an apartment complex, the law recognizes that I can be discriminative in who I share my home with.”

“Whatever,” she said flicking her hair as she leaned over and gave me a good view while she loaded the refrigerator. “She is waiting in your office, I said you’d be back around this time and gave her a coke and let her watch TV while she waits.”

I left Karen to manage the rest of the groceries and walked down the hallway to “my” office. It had been one of the last rooms rendered fit for habitation, but was quickly becoming one of my favorites. The wood paneling, bookshelves and the functioning fireplace all reminded me of what I suspect the English landed gentry enjoyed as a den. I was sort of secretly looking forward to winter when I could get away with a crackling fire while I savored a snifter of the finest imported ice cream.

The young woman waiting was seated, but stood up immediately when I entered and presented herself.

“I’m..Ch…Caroline… Caroline Garner, Ma’am,” she mumbled out at me while presenting a hand to be shook. “Thank you for seeing me.”

“No need to thank me, I see a lot of things. I’m Katherine Ryan, if we get to know each other better, you can call me Katie. Please sit.” I said indicating one of the chairs across my desk.

“Thank you, Ma’am,” she said sitting down and carefully smoothing out her skirt.

She was of mixed ancestry, the jet black hair was much longer than most American girls preferred, but since she didn’t have an accent I took her for a native. Her features were generally Asiatic, but lacked the epicanthic fold and the blue eyes indicated at least one Caucasian ancestor. She was a big girl I saw, and soon enough, I began to suspect, and the subtle scarf over where her Adams apple would have been seemed to indicate as well, that she wasn’t a girl at all.

“You’re here, so I assume you have read the listing and agree to its terms?”

“Yes Ma’am… they are wonderful terms, Karen already showed me one of the empty rooms and around the house a bit. I couldn’t find better if I paid three times as much, and I don’t really mind helping out around the house. I’m a farm kid we always had chores to be done. At least around here, I won’t have to deal with ornery animals.”

“That depends upon how you view infants. I’m going to have a baby in December, and part of the 10 hours will no doubt be childcare.”

“A baby?” she asked excited. “Oh that won’t be any trouble. I always had cousins and neighbors kids to look after. It was one of the things I often got volunteered for, but I never minded.”

“Farm kid huh,” I said nodding at her. “Where from?”

“Scottsbluff, Nebraska.”

“SCOTTSbluff?” I asked confused. “Where’s that?”

“Yes Ma’am, it’s about 300 miles west of here. About as far away from Omaha as it’s possible to get and still be in Nebraska.”

“What made you come all the way out here?”

“It’s… about as far away from Scottsbluff as it’s possible to be and still be in Nebraska,” she explained to me firmly. “I wanted to go to college, but I can’t afford to pay for out of state tuition. I can’t really afford in state tuition either, but I got some student loans and I found a job at Wal-Mart.”

“Can’t your parents help you out?”

“I… no, the farm… the drought you know…”

“I see,” I said giving her a hard look which she was soon unable to meet and looked down at her shoes dejectedly.

“Have you still got your tallywacker?” I asked her flippantly

“WHAT!?” she shouted totally surprised. “I mean …what do you mean?”

“Karen mentioned you asked about our L.G.B.T. policy, which for your information I am sort of making up as I go along. And not for nothing, but I’m sort of pretty to look at, and you haven’t checked out my boobs once. Which if we eliminated the L and the B part of it just sort of leaves out the T. So… are you still intact?”

“I…” she said gathering her purse as she got up and started to cry. “I should leave…”

“Why?” I asked her sternly.

“Don’t you want me too?” She said in between tears.

“I’m not sure what I want, you haven’t answered all of my questions yet. So please sit down and we will get on with the interview. I ask to get it out in the open, but you certainly don’t have to show me, I’ve seen one before. Technically speaking, are you still a boy?”

“Yes,” she mumbled at me as she raised a hand to her head and pulled off her hair to reveal it as a wig. The hair underneath was the same color but buzz cut. The sort of thing you could expect the recruit depot at Paris Island to pump out. She set the hairpiece on top of her skirt and still wouldn’t look me in the eye. Even without the hair, she passed reasonably well to my masculine trained eye, though a girl from birth probably could have spotted something. Her breasts were well shaped and proportionate. If she bought her rack, off the rack, at least she had good taste.

“You can put the wig back on,” I said trying to comfort her and give her a supporting smile. “You look much better with it on.”

“Thank you,” she said as she tried fitting it back on as well as she could without the aid of a mirror.

“Who gave you the haircut?”

“My father, when he found out... He was in the Army for many years. He said he was ‘going to make a man out of me’. The buzz cut was the first step. Step two was driving me to the recruiting office, but I was able to make a run for it before that happened.”

“You’re living in your car aren’t you?”

“I go to a transgender support meeting; one of the girls there had it worse than me once, and told me about a shelter on Nicholas Street. I stay there sometimes, but they… a lot of times its easier to sleep in the car.”

“Your dad was in the Army, huh? Served in Vietnam? Is that where he found your mother?”

“Cambodia,” she said brushing some hair out of her eyes.

“Huh,” I grunted amused. “Tricky that, we were never officially there.”

“I know, Daddy used to scare us by saying that we were all military secrets and that one day he might have to slit all our throats to protect national security.”

“He sounds delightful,” I stated sarcastically.

“He was actually,…most of the time. Seven kids, I have three brothers and three sisters. I’m the youngest. The runt of the litter they all called me. I was never a really good boy, and I read as much about…people like me as I could on the internet. I had always planned to go to U.N.O. and start my transition when I got here. I could have been most of the way through it before anyone back home found out. Daddy never likes to go to the city, and I would have been ready for any planned visit days in advance… but he found some of my stock of clothes a week ago and I… had to head to college early.”

“So you mean to go the whole way, snip snip and all that?” I asked gesturing with my fingers in a scissoring motion.

“Yeah, when confronted I told my dad and he sort of freaked out. He just couldn’t understand it.”

“I have a hard time with it too, just seems to offend my sense of engineering throwing away a perfectly serviceable part.”

“Well if you want it,” she said brightening up for the first time and gave a half smile. “You can have it!”

*********

*********

*********

“Perhaps later, look… will you be able to pay $300?”

“My first paycheck is in three days I will be able to pay you then.” She answered proudly.

“And will you be able to buy food the week after?”

“I… I’ve asked for a lot of extra shifts before classes start.”

“Well, hard work is its own reward,” I said looking around at the opulence of my inherited wealth, and how I had once thought myself poor.

“All right, if we’re going to do this, you have to understand that I am uncouth wench. I say politically incorrect things like calling imported cars rice machines. And how you people are all good at math. I’m too set in my ways to change now. If I offend you, it’s not out of any sense of malice, but rather my inherent arrogance which has got me in trouble sometimes. I just hope you will give me a chance. I don’t really have much experience with minorities like Asiatics and particularly transgender people.”

Even though I am almost certainly the definition of one now.

“You probably know more about minorities than I do,” she said me hesitantly. “Western Nebraska isn’t exactly known for its diversity. My Mother and siblings were the only non-whites for fifty miles in any direction.”

“Well, my jeep has a sister who is a Cherokee, but I doubt that’s what you had in mind,” I said getting up from my chair and walking toward her. “You can move in what you have to move in right away. But I expect you to be paid up by the first of next month, or I’m throwing your tranny ass in the street. Understand?”

“You mean I can have the room?” she looked up excited.

“Didn’t I just say so?” And DeGeas will just have to live it.

“Oh thank you Ma’am," Caroline said as she got up to hug me. What was it with girls and hugs? Don’t they realize there are all sorts of diseases that are spread by touch?

“You can call me Katie, if you call me ma’am much more often, I will start calling you Dragon Lady.”

“For a great room like that, I would mind a bit… Katie,” she said as I could see the life return to her facial features.

“You’re a woman trapped in a man’s body huh?” I asked oddly intrigued by the symmetry to my own situation. “So when are these support meetings?

[***][***][***].

Sunday passed without a letter. But of course the post office was closed that day and I didn’t expect one anyway.

So did Monday, and no phone call, either. I tried not to worry.

Tuesday morning I began to worry.

By Wednesday, I was in such a funk that not even Mr. Cherry Garcia could fix it.

Thursday I came home to see a brown note stuck to my front door. Fucking post office had been here and LEFT! If I wanted my letter, I had to show up at the local branch in person to collect it.

Melanie sort of got parked illegally, and it sort of may have been on their front grass, but if they didn’t want that sort of thing to happen, they should try to be more accommodating! There was a bit of a snafu because the letter was still in the hands of the postal carrier who had attempted to make the delivery, they would not be back for another hour.

I went back outside, I meekly drove my jeep into one of the indicated parking slots, and since it was high summer on the high plains, I sweated profusely while I waited. I suppose I could have lingered inside and taken advantage of the federally mandated air conditioning, but I had sort of made a damn fool of myself and didn’t want the clerks at the counter staring at me while I waited. I had no books to read, nothing to distract me but the car stereo. So I pumped up the volume as high as I could get away with and curled up in the back seat letting the music roll over me.

Eventually, my time was up and I meekly walked inside and waited my turn at the counter. After only the very minimum of bureaucratic hassle, a nice heavyset girl behind the counter handed me my letter and I signed for it without even looking at the clipboard. I went back outside in a daze too frightened to open it, but too frightened not too, as well. Eventually, with sufficient will and a reasonable amount of guts, I was able to open the letter to read inside.

Katherine,

I was VERY happy to read your letter. I think you will understand what I was going through after you showed up, and I agree, let us never speak of that again. They found my phone, and I sort of have a minor ding over it, so I won’t be able to call you until classes formally begin. Hallowed naval custom however, forbids interference with the mail, so we can still correspond this way. Mid- August we can even I.M. or Skype each other when I get the computer in my quarters.

We have a lot to talk about, for some things, paper isn’t good enough. But for now, I want you to know that I would like that one last chance very much. I’m sort of OK with you getting one, too, if forced to admit it. Please keep writing, but put your return address as Katherine SCOTT. The Navy may not be actively looking, but that doesn’t mean they can ignore a violation of the regulations for midshipmen if proof is waived in front of their nose. For now, though, I want to finish this letter thus.

Your loving husband, Thomas.

P.S.

Suck my (your) dick! I was molested by a beautiful woman, and it took me a while to recover. Washing out is NOT going to happen… Thank you for the baby pics I’m hiding them in a safe place, the same place I put your ring until I can give it back to you in person.

[***][***][***]