by Jillian Marie

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I got out my laptop and hooked it up to the midi port on my digital piano, then started recording the different orchestral parts into Sonar, which is a sequencer program. Once all the parts were recorded I could practice playing along with the orchestra as much as I needed or wanted to. Never again would I feel lost when waiting for my next entrance, because I could now practice with a full orchestra any time I wanted.

It took me three days to construct the Beethoven orchestra, two more for the Mozart, and four to finish the Prokofiev. By the time each one was completed, I knew the accompaniments almost as well as I did the solo parts.

If only my relationship with Cindy were as easy. I knew there had been moments before when Cindy seemed to have problems with the way my cross-dressing…and yes, I had finally admitted to the fact that I had become a cross-dresser…was finding its way into our everyday lives. But recently she’d been a lot more vocal in her dissent. Considering she essentially started the whole thing, I was having some trouble reconciling her position then with her attitude now.

Everything came to a head a couple of days before the start of the winter semester. I was working on the orchestra parts to the Chopin concerto when she came home from the bookstore with her armload of textbooks for the coming term.

I was lost in my work and didn’t hear her come in until she spoke, breaking my concentration, “What ya doin’?”

I took off my headphones, looked in her direction, and said, “Just working on my project.”

“Ah,” she commented with quickly fading interest.

She wandered into the bedroom and I returned to my little world, where I was pounding away at the French Horn parts of the Chopin. After a few minutes I stopped and began thinking about what had just happened. I don’t know what she was expecting me to be working on, but apparently this wasn’t on her list, and she seemed intent on making sure I was aware of that fact.

She returned to the living room and as I noticed her presence again she asked, “Are you going to be at it much longer this evening?”

“I suppose I could call it a night,” I offered as I set about shutting down my equipment.

“No, you don’t have to,” she said, though it was obvious from her tone of voice that she didn’t mean it.

I got up from where I had been working and started to take her in my arms, but she turned and pushed me away.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she tried to deflect me.

“Come on,” I countered. “Even Ray Charles could see something’s bothering you.”

She just ignored me for a moment until I tried once again to hug her, which prompted her to say, “Please, don’t.”

I stared at her for a moment, unsure what to do next. As I watched her leave the room, closing the door behind her, I knew that I’d done something wrong. I just wasn’t sure what that was.

Later that evening Cindy emerged from the bedroom and silently went about putting together dinner for us. I kept looking in her direction, hoping to find a chink in the armor she had worked so hard to build around herself, but found none.

Unable to stand the cold shoulder treatment any longer, I finally broke down and asked, “What did I do wrong?”

She looked at me as if I’d just asked the stupidest question in history and dismissively said, “Nothing.”

Despite my natural desire to drop the subject at that point I pursued it stating, “Look, I know something I’ve either done or not done has upset you. I just don’t know what that something is. If you don’t tell me, I can’t fix it.”

She gave me a hurt look and said, “How could you not know?”

Stunned, I stared at her for a moment before answering, “I swear, if I knew I wouldn’t have to ask. What is it?”

She stood there silently for several minutes then reached over and grabbed my bra strap through my shirt and tugged on it, saying, “That’s what’s wrong.”

Confused, I asked, “What?”

Showing signs of exasperation she said, “When was the last time you didn’t wear a bra when you got dressed?”

I sat there trying to come up with the answer when she finally jumped in with it. “I’ll tell you. It was before your recital last fall. Why’d you start wearing it all the time?”

“I don’t know. I just sort of got used to having it on and haven’t given it another thought. Why?”

“You’re not the person I fell in love with.”

Hurt, I responded, “What do you mean? Because I wear the women’s clothing you picked out for me? Because I don’t just wear them when I’m performing? Is that it?”

“Yes! That’s it!”

“I don’t get it. Why didn’t you ever say anything before?”

“I have, you just ignored me.”

“When?”

“Every night lately, I have to remind you to take those things off. I don’t know what’s happening here. Do you want to be a girl?” she stifled a tear as she waited for my response.

“Of course not! Can I help it if panties are more comfortable than my old Y-fronts?”

“That doesn’t explain the bra, and the pantyhose, and the…”

“The what?”

In a strangely frustrated tone she said, “I wish I had nails like yours!”

“Wait a minute! You started me wearing panties, remember? You picked out my bras! You showed me how to do my manicure! You even gave me that camisole thing for Christmas! What’s going on here?”

She stared at me, a hurt look on her face for a moment or two before silently dropping her gaze to the floor. “I don’t know what’s going on anymore, Kyle!”

I rushed to her, taking her in my arms in as comforting a hug as I knew how to give. What began as a single tear eventually became a torrent of sobs as I struggled to give her some sort of solace. To say that I was in over my head at this point was the understatement of the century, and I knew it.

I’m not sure how long it took, but eventually I managed to get Cindy calmed down enough that she could lie down and rest. Then I picked up the phone and called the one person I could think of who might have a clue what to do.

“Hello?”

“Sarah? It’s Kyle.”

“Hey Kyle, how were your holidays?”

“Okay, but right now I have something a little bit urgent that I’m hoping you can help with.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Cindy. I don’t really know what’s going on, but she sort of freaked out on me this evening and I don’t have a clue what to do.”

“I’ll be there in five.”

There was a click followed by dead silence. As I hung up the phone, I looked at Cindy as she lay asleep on the couch. I hoped Sarah had an idea what to do, because I sure didn’t.

True to her word, Sarah arrived in less than five minutes time. I let her in and led her into the kitchen as quietly as I could, hoping we didn’t wake Cindy before we’d had a chance to talk.

“So what’s going on, Kyle?” Sarah asked, getting straight to the point.

“Okay, it’s like this. I’ve been wearing my lingerie most of the time lately, just because I’m more or less used to how it feels. Lately Cindy’s been less than receptive to that idea. This is confusing the heck out of me. I mean, she’s the one who started this whole thing.”

“Did you consider the possibility that she feels threatened by your increased level of comfort with your femininity?”

“Threatened? That’s ridiculous!” I said louder than I’d intended.

“To you maybe. Not to her,” Sarah began. “To her, it’s almost like competing with another woman. Only in this case that other woman is with you 24/7.”

I stood there thinking about what she’d just said. The more I thought about it, the more sense it started to make. “Really? You think she really sees it that way?”

“I don’t know for certain, but that seems to be a fairly common point of disagreement in couples where cross-dressing is a factor in the relationship.”

Cindy entered the kitchen at that point and asked, “Sarah, what are you doing here?”

“Hi Cindy! I just thought I’d stop by to see my friends. Do you have a minute? Maybe we could talk a bit.” Turning her attention back to me she asked, “Kyle, could you leave us alone for a little bit of girl talk?”

“How about if I take my laptop and stuff into the bedroom so you two can have a little privacy?”

“That would be great,” Sarah answered.

I did take my things into the bedroom and even hooked everything up. However, it only took a moment for me to completely lose interest in my project and decide to devote my full attention to eavesdropping on the girls’ conversation. So I pressed my ear against the nearly paper-thin door so I could listen in.

The first thing I heard was Cindy asking in a somewhat argumentative tone, “So what did he tell you?”

Sarah replied, “Just that he’s worried about you.”

“So he didn’t tell you anything we’d been arguing about?”

Calmly Sarah said, “It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you’re a little threatened by Kyle’s femininity.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Cindy shouted.

“Is it? Tell me, when the two of you argue, what’s it usually about?”

Cindy tried to deflect Sarah from her line of questioning, “I don’t know. Normal couple stuff I guess.”

“So you’ve never fought about his dressing? I have to say, I find that a little hard to believe.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s very common when couples are dealing with some form of cross gender behavior that they argue about that very thing, often more than they do about anything else.”

“So what if we do?”

For a moment I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but then I heard Sarah say, “…it’s hard figuring out where everything fits in. Believe me, I know from whence I speak.”

I pulled my ear away from the door for a moment, so I missed out on Cindy’s response. I did however catch Sarah’s next comment. “No, I’m pretty certain you don’t have anything to worry about there. Kyle’s not going to wake up one morning and just decide then and there that he’s going to become a she. It doesn’t work that way.”

“But why’s he started wearing his girl things all the time?”

“Well, part of it may be just like he says…he’s become comfortable dressing like that. Guys are very much creatures of habit.”

There was a moment’s pause before Cindy asked, “Are you telling me this is just the way things are going to be?”

“I don’t know. No one does for certain. Not even Kyle,” Sarah paused for a moment before continuing. “The real question here is can you honestly sit there and tell me this changes the way you feel about him?”

Cindy responded, “Of course not! I love him very much!”

“Then what exactly is the problem?”

“I just think it’s kind of weird…”

“And it is,” Sarah jumped in. “But there are a few things that have to be taken into account. One is that at least as far as he’s concerned, you are the one who started him wearing girl stuff.”

Timidly Cindy commented, “I suppose I can see where that idea originated.”

Sarah continued, “The second is that this is a rare case in that most transvestites, and for the sake of this conversation we’re going to consider Kyle to be one, have a strong emotional if not sexual component to their dressing. Kyle has neither one, as far as we know.”

“Well if he’s not a transvestite, then what is he?”

“I suppose we could argue that at some level he’s transgendered, but again his is a very unusual case.”

My mind was reeling as I listened in on their conversation. Was I really transgendered? Sarah was for better or worse the only expert I knew and if she didn’t know, how the heck was I supposed to figure it out?

It took me a moment or two to refocus, but eventually I returned to my eavesdropping. I don’t know how much exactly I missed, but when my attention was once again held by the girls’ conversation, I heard Cindy say, “That doesn’t make any of this easier to deal with.”

Sarah responded, “No, it doesn’t. You’re both very lucky, you know.”

“I know.” As Cindy spoke, I decided I’d hidden out long enough and returned to the living room to join in the chat.

“How’re you ladies doing? Have a nice chat?” I asked as I took a seat beside Cindy on the sofa.

She looked at me guiltily before saying, “Listen Kyle, I’m really sorry. I don’t know what my problem has been lately.”

I looked into her eyes and said, “That’s okay. I think we all need to kind of freak out once in a while.” I paused before adding in my most playful tone of voice, “Just maybe give me a little warning beforehand next time.”

Cindy punched my arm, “You!”

Sarah chose that moment to remind us of her presence by saying, “Listen guys, it’s looking like you won’t be needing me anymore this evening so I guess I’ll head on home.” Turning to Cindy specifically, she added, “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call, okay?”

Cindy replied, “Okay, I will.”

I got up and escorted Sarah to the door. As we got there I whispered, “Thanks. I really had no idea what to do there. Any suggestions?”

“Not really. Just be your usual charming, talented self and everything should be all right.”

“Yeah, right,” I let slip before I realized. “Sorry, I just don’t like fighting. It always ties my stomach up in knots.”

“You’ll be fine. Just remember that you guys love each other. The rest is just details.”

Once Sarah was gone I returned to my spot next to the love of my life. Again she began to offer, “Sorry. I really had no right to blow up at you like that.”

“I don’t know if I’d say ‘no right’, but…” I left the sentence incomplete.

The following morning I was awakened by the ringing of the telephone. When I finally answered it, Dr. Caroll’s voice greeted me, “Kyle, Dr. Wyler asked me to call to set up a time for the two of you to meet to discuss the rehearsal schedule.”

Warily I replied, “Okay, when did he want to meet?”

“This afternoon, in his office. Say around one.”

A feeling of dread mingled with worry in the back of my head as I told her, “I’ll be there.”

Once off the phone I replaced the handset, turning toward Cindy to inform her of the appointment. She looked at me worriedly and asked, “Are you going to be all right?”

I pretended to be unconcerned and replied, “Sure. There’s nothing to worry about.” I just wished I believed that one myself.

At a few minutes before one I was standing in the hallway not far from Dr. Wyler’s office, trying to convince myself that I was being silly when I started worrying about his motives and intentions.

At precisely one o’clock Dr. Wyler came strolling down the hall toward his office. When he saw me waiting, a grin quickly spread across his face as he greeted me, “Mr. Bronson. Thank you for meeting with me this afternoon.”

As he approached me he reached out his hand to shake mine. Just as he clasped mine I suppressed the involuntary urge to yank it away, doing my best not to show any kind of negative reaction as he held onto my hand for far longer than was necessary. As calmly as I could I said, “Any time, sir.”

He unlocked his office door and held it open for me to enter, following me in. Once the door had closed behind us he said, “Now, the first thing I’d like to discuss is how you’re coming along with your parts?”

“Pretty good, sir. I’ve been recording sequenced versions of the orchestra parts so I can then practice playing with the ensemble. I have most of the semester’s selections done already and have the solo parts worked out for all of them to the point of spit and polish.”

He took a seat at his desk and indicated I should take the seat right next to it. I had no sooner sat down than he gently placed his hand on top of mine as he said, “Excellent. Now, I was hoping we could arrange it so you attend at least one ensemble rehearsal per week so we can work on your concerti.”

I nearly gave in to the temptation to pull my hand away and run home as fast as I could, but then the part of me that kept telling me this was just my imagination running rampant took over and kept me in my place as we continued our meeting. In my best calm voice I said, “That certainly sounds like a good idea. Which day would you prefer?”

Dr. Wyler looked me directly in the eye and held my gaze for several seconds before saying, “I think that should be the other way around. Which day works best for you?”

I looked up at the ceiling as I said, “Well, if we did Wednesdays I could then work on any problems with Dr. Caroll the next day in my lesson.”

“Wednesdays it is then. We’ll plan on starting those rehearsals with your pieces so you don’t have to hang around doing nothing waiting on us to be ready for you.” As he said this his hand, which had still been resting on mine, began to lightly caress the back of my hand.

I stared hard into his eyes, trying to convey my complete lack of interest in continuing that sort of activity. I don’t think I was terribly successful, given that he didn’t stop. So finally I pulled my hand back from his and clasped mine together between my knees as I said, “Dr. Wyler…” I wasn’t sure what I was going to say, but it didn’t matter. His office phone rang at that exact moment, rescuing me from any further uncomfortable contact with this man.

He answered it, “Hello? Oh yes, how’s that going?” He pulled the receiver away from his ear, covered the mouthpiece, and whispered, “I’ll see you Wednesday at two then?”

I nodded as he returned to his telephone call then backed out of his office, closing the door behind me as I left. It took me a couple of seconds before I was fully able to process what had just happened, during which time I felt nearly catatonic. I then shuddered, turned to leave, and hoped I could keep my wits about me as I walked home.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Piano Concerto No.12 in A Major, kv.414
http://server3.pianosociety.com/protected/mozart-kv414-1-bko...

Ludwig von Beethoven, Concerto No.4 in G Major, Opus 58
http://server3.pianosociety.com/protected/beethoven-58-1-hu.mp3
http://server3.pianosociety.com/protected/beethoven-58-2-3-h...

Sergei Prokofiev, Piano Concerto No.1, Opus 10
http://server3.pianosociety.com/protected/prokofiev-10-1-arm...
http://server3.pianosociety.com/protected/prokofiev-10-2-arm...
http://server3.pianosociety.com/protected/prokofiev-10-3-arm...

Franz Liszt, Piano Concerto No.1 in E flat Major
http://server3.pianosociety.com/protected/liszt-pc1-1-2-hu.mp3
http://server3.pianosociety.com/protected/liszt-pc1-3-4-hu.mp3

Frederic Chopin, Piano Concerto No.2 in F minor, Opus 21
http://server3.pianosociety.com/protected/chopin-21-1-odoan.mp3
http://server3.pianosociety.com/protected/chopin-21-2-odoan.mp3
http://server3.pianosociety.com/protected/chopin-21-3-odoan.mp3

Johann Sebastian Bach, Harpsichord Concerto No.1 in D minor, BWV 1052
http://server3.pianosociety.com/protected/bach-bwv1052-1-set...
http://server3.pianosociety.com/protected/bach-bwv1052-2-set...
http://server3.pianosociety.com/protected/bach-bwv1052-3-set...

Notes:

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To Be Continued...