The Greatest of These

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I pray you'll be our eyes, and watch us where we go.
And help us to be wise in times when we don't know
Let this be our prayer, when we lose our way
Lead us to the place, guide us with your grace
To a place where we'll be safe

Abiding Hope


“It’s so frustrating,” Drea said, looking out the window onto the grounds of the home.

“Irene has sent three letters, all registered mail, and no response; even though we know she signed for them.” Drea shook her head.

“How about phone calls,” Cathilynn asked. She almost could predict the answer, having been frustrated herself over the lack of family support in general, and now for the guest of the hospice.

“The kids answer and say their mother isn’t home.” Drea bit her lip.

“Carla says she and her ex always told the kids to never answer the phone, and her ex would never let the kids stay alone even though the boy is nearly thirteen.” Cathilynn nodded in recognition; the story played out over and over throughout the years as family after family ignored and abandoned the women at the Home.

“I think she just tells the kids to say she’s not in, as if we were bill collectors or a charity asking for help…well…” Of course the Home was charity…charitas…A gift…but one that was too necessary and altogether too sad.

“What about the parents…they must be…what…in their seventies?”

“Carla’s father I think is seventy-seven…I’m not sure about her mother.” Drea promised herself she wouldn’t cry, and she was damn well determined to see that promise fulfilled. Nevertheless, tears began to flow.

“Carla’s dad is just like mine…he’s so determined to keep his faith that he’s left his daughter to fate. ‘No son of mine…’ you know?” Drea shook her head no, as if by that gesture, things would magically change, and Carla’s parents would call up from the airport and announce their arrival.

“Honey, you’ve done what you could. It’s nearly midnight and you and Janet have been going since five this morning. Go home and we’ll put our heads together tomorrow, okay?” Cathilynn put her hand on Drea’s shoulder and pushed her gently toward the front door.

“It’ll be okay, honey…it always is, in some way.” Cathilynn called out to Drea as she walked to her car.

“It has to be,” Cathilynn said to herself, almost as a prayer.

“It just has to be.

Lead us to a place, guide us with your grace
Give us faith so we'll be safe


“Betty died this morning…nobody…nobody came.” Drea said as she collapsed in exhaustion on the couch. Bella brought her a cup of tea and sat down, putting her head on Drea’s shoulder.

“Janet and you held her hand and you sang, didn’t you?” Bella said as she kissed her spouse on the cheek, tasting the salt of old tears.

“Yes… Janet held her hand and squeezed and patted.” Drea said.

“I pray we'll find your light and hold it in our hearts.” Drea never made any attempt to change her voice over the years, still singing and speaking in a nice tenor ranging up to alto. The Prayer had been a favorite of Annie’s and it was nice to find out that Bella loved the song as well.

“I don’t know if I can keep this up.” Drea had seen all too much sadness and loss in her life. She still struggled with the ghosts of the past who came nightly to accuse her of things she did and didn’t do. Bella took her hand.

“La forza che ci d il desiderio che ognuno trovi amor intorno e dentro,“ (We ask that life be kind and watch us from above; we hope each soul will find another soul to love) Bella sang in her wife’s ear. A lovely mezzo still rich after decades of a full life.

“You’ve done all that anyone could and more honey…let’s go to bed and hold each other tight…okay?” Bella said as she kissed Drea once again. “A soul for me to love, yes?”


“I’m so tired I could fall asleep just leaning against the door,” Irene said as she tossed her apple core into the trash by the door to her office. Sandra stood in the hallway looking just as tired as Irene.

“No luck with the parents or the ex, huh?” Sandra said almost as the altogether too frequent statement.

“Nope…” Irene looked angry, but she was more frustrated than anything else. It was almost easier when they had an outright rejection. No futile hope for promises unfulfilled or a change of heart. Not knowing was almost too much to bear, since the promises and hope lingered long enough to bring unbearable pain when a guest finally passed without family or friends.

“I’ve seen that look, sister dear,” Sandra said as she smiled wryly. “What do you have up your sleeve?”

“What I’ve got up my sleeve is a whole bunch of unused miles on Continental and an address where the ex and the kids live in Baltimore!”


“Anyone see Irene?” Cathilynn asked as she stood in the archway to the dining room.

“She’s gone on an errand,” Sandra said. It wasn’t that Irene went to Baltimore, but that she was going on her own time. She didn’t want to burden the Home with a trip if it didn’t pan out, so she was using what little vacation time she had to search.

“Well, I don’t want to know, because I know it won’t be into town or over to Child Welfare.” Cathilynn smiled and walked down the hall to her office.

Cathilynn’s health had improved dramatically in the last year after a sudden but altogether real encounter with mortality. Between listening finally, not only to the doctor, but also to her own body, she was growing stronger every day. More importantly, she was able to delegate a lot of responsibility to others, leaving her to plan for new projects and services that the Home might provide.

Between Dr. Garber and the blessing his expertise provided, and the hospice, the Home employed seven medical professionals as well as seven other volunteers. And while she was a little disappointed at Irene’s absence, she also knew that the call of present needs always outweighed what might or might not take place.

She sat back in her chair and looked out the window. The sheer weight of the responsibility of the Home was almost too much for her to bear, even with all the help she had. She put her head down on the desk and thought of Betty, the girl who had died the day before, and all the other Betty’s she had seen over the years. And she gave way to the inevitable flood of tears.

It's the faith
you light in us
I feel it will save us


Irene parked her rental car and got out. After an early morning flight, she had arrived in Baltimore Washington Airport at 9am. A quick hop up 295 into Lansdowne and she was there by 9:48. Irene walked up the walk to the front door. A small plaque underneath the door chime read Schroeder. She pushed the button once and a few moments later a woman came to the door. She stood about 5’10”, about eye-to-eye with Irene.

“May I help you,” The woman asked warily.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry to trouble you. Are you Margo Schroeder?” Irene asked.

“Yes…well, Margo Richelli; I go by my maiden name these days.”

“Hi, Ms. Richelli,” Irene said as she offered a hand. “I’m Irene Smith, I spoke with your son last week….I’m from the Home that Love Built. May I come in?” She quickly entered when Margo stepped aside, puzzled.

“I’m sorry, Ms.?” Margo stood in the living room facing Irene.

“Smith.”

“Ms. Smith, there must be some mistake…you say you talked to my son?” Irene wondered where this was going.

“He said his mother wasn’t home…I asked if you had gotten our letters?”

“Keith…can you come here?” Margo called up the stairwell. A moment later a boy, about thirteen or so, came bounding down the stairs.

“Whatcha need, Mom?” the boy asked. He noticed Irene standing next to his mother and his expression changed from enthusiastic to worried in a moment.

“Keith, this is Irene…” She looked at Irene and repeated, “Smith. She says she spoke to you last week on the phone?”

“Ahhh….yeah….didn’t…didn’t I tell you about that call…Maybe I wrote a note.” Keith hesitated.

“She says she’s sent letters?” Margo looked askance at her son, who just looked at the floor.

“Keith?” Margo raised her voice slightly. He walked over to the desk and opened a drawer, pulling out three envelopes, all with white and green labels on the front.

“You mean these? I thought I told you about them.” He lied, looking once again at the floor.

“You most certainly did not.” Margo turned to Irene.

“I am so sorry this happened.” She looked at letters and noted the postmark.

“You flew all the way from there to here…jeez, that’s over 1000 miles one way. What’s this about? Wait…do you have any news of my husband? Have you seen Carl?” Her voice became bright, almost like a child wanting to stay up an extra hour.

“Ms. Ricelli, I have some news, but I can’t say whether it’s good or not.” Irene pointed to the envelope.

“Perhaps reading the letter might help?”

With Irene’s gesture, Margo walked to the couch and sat down. After a few moments, she looked up, her eyes filled with tears.

“How can this be? We’ve been looking for him for almost two years.” Margo looked at Keith, who was edging his way toward the stairs.

“Keith…why didn’t you give me these? What were you thinking?” She wasn’t accusatory so much as pleading.

“I don’t fucking care…I hate him…I fucking hate him.” His eyes were filled with tears as well, and he ran up the stairs. Irene winced at the slam of his bedroom door.

“I’m so sorry.” Irene said as she sat down next to Margo.

“She has little time…this kind of cancer…sarcoma…moves fast, and she was in stage three before she even knew she was sick. I’m sorry.”

“So he’s at your home and he’s dying. Oh God, why didn’t he just come home?” Margo looked at the letters as if the writing would change; that it would all be a dream. She wiped her face with her sleeve as she looked up and saw daughter standing in the hall way.

“Did someone find Daddy, Mom?” She ran to her mother, who took her in her arms.

“Yes, honey…someone found Daddy.” She buried her face in her daughter’s hair and wept.

“Mommy, aren’t you happy?” Kyra asked.

“Yes, honey, Mommy’s very happy.”


“I’ve got tickets for the three of you. We’ve booked a motel nearby, but you’re all welcome to stay at the home.” Irene looked at Margo, whose eyes were still red from the news of her husband Carl, now Carla’s illness.

“I’m sorry there isn’t much notice, but there’s little time to waste. We may already be too late, but we have to try, okay?” Irene looked at Kyra, who clutched a Teddy Bear, long discarded, but a renewed comfort after her mother explained why they would be traveling halfway across the country.

“I don’t want Daddy to die, Mom…it’s not fair.” She choked back a sob.

“I’m not going!” Keith sat in the kitchen with his arms folded. He had been crying as well, but his expression was anything but sad.

“There’s no one to leave you with…all your friends went camping and your grandmother is visiting my sister. You have to come. That’s final.” Margo was angry with Keith, not so much over his present stance as his deceit. Precious time had been lost because of his lie, and there was a good possibility they would arrive at the home too late.

“Fine, but I’m not talking to him.” He crushed his soda can in his hand.

“As far as I’m concerned, he can…” He hadn’t yet finished his sentence when his mother said very loudly,

“Keith Joseph Schroeder, you knock it off right now. I don’t have time for this. We have to be at the airport in an hour.”

“Don’t worry about anything other than your clothes…the Home is paying for the trip, okay?” Irene saw the pain in Margo’s face.

“We’ll get through this.” She walked over to Kyra and said,

“Ca…..your Daddy has been talking about you ever since…he…got to our home. You like to play soccer, right? And your Mom tells me you sew? Well, I like to sew, too. Maybe we can look at my machine when we have some time, okay?” Irene felt sad and defeated; it was rare to have a family involved, especially with the guests of the hospice. And now, with this family ready… She thought of Keith’s anger but knew that might change. To fly halfway across the country…She prayed desperately that they wouldn’t be late.


Everyone gives the hand to his neighbours
Symbol of peace, of fraternity

Drea had walked over to the clinic from the Home. It was well past six and Dr. Garber’s office light was still on. She walked past the reception area and down the hall. She knocked on the door. Instead of hello, she was greeted with,

"Where's Karen," Stephen said, looking up from his desk.

"She's gone home; she'll be back tomorrow." Drea said as she stood in the doorway.

"What do you mean, gone home? We were supposed to go over the schedule for tomorrow." Dr. Stephen Garber looked up from his paperwork, angry and frustrated.

"Her daughter came home sick from school; she had to go pick her up and bring her to the doctor's." Drea said calmly.

"This is important...I need her here." Steve looked impatient, and his tone was getting more and more angry.

"Steve... she couldn't stay. You can go over the schedule in the morning." Drea took a sip from her diet Pepsi.

"I can't rely on anyone around here." He said, tossing a folder on the desk as he rose.

"I'll have to do it myself."

"Steve...Listen to yourself. You never get this upset. What's going on?" Drea asked.

"What's going on is I've got three procedures in the next three days, and I need help here." He snapped.

"Steve...it's not like this can't wait." Drea said, almost expecting another angry reply.

"This is important work we're doing here....I wish everyone took it more seriously." His tone and body language almost seemed to accuse Drea. She blew out a breath and said,

"Everyone here...everyone takes this work seriously. But everyone here is just as tired as you are." She said calmly. She took another sip of her soda, waiting for his response.

"Sorry, but I didn't think that this isn’t important like some people; these girls need our help." Steve spat out rudely. It was uncharacteristic of him to behave as he was. Drea waited for him to finish.

"Terri and Kayla are scheduled for tomorrow and Wednesday. Why don't you bump Nancy to next Monday and take a few days off?"

"Are they going to take a day off?" He snapped.

"Steve..." Drea said simply.

"What?" His demeanor had softened somewhat.

"It's not about them...it's all about her." Drea said calmly, almost in a monotone; emotionless, but with emotion in the words themselves.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He said and turned away.

"Steve, honey, listen. You can't change things...you can't bring her back."

"I don't follow you," he said quietly, but he knew exactly what Drea was talking about.

"No matter how hard you work; no matter how many girls you help here, I think in your mind, it will never be enough." Drea stepped next to him and put her hand on his arm.

"I don't know what you mean."

"You blame yourself for her death, don't you?" Drea said this as a matter of fact; no accusation was given but he took it that way.

"You weren't there...you can't understand." Steve pulled his arm away from her.

"You think you're the only one who cares?" Drea knew she had to challenge him, for everyone's sake, including his.

"You snapped at Sandra yesterday about something...she was in tears." What was so important that it couldn't wait...and for that matter, why so rude?"

"I asked her three times about the shipment from the supply house...it was like she was ignoring me." Steve said.

"She didn't answer because she had just got off the phone with her sister. Her best friend from high school is very ill, and she's not expected to make it." Drea looked at Steve, who almost seemed to rise up.

"Well, how was I supposed to know? She didn't say anything.”

"Maybe if you had taken some time, you would have seen the tears in her eyes?" Drea didn't wait for an answer.

"This isn't like you...you're impatient, and you're getting to the point where Colleen is seriously considering quitting. And we can’t afford to lose any help at this point.

"That's not fair...I put in more hours than anyone here. They should be willing to sacrifice," he said.

"Everyone here is sacrificing. I'm retired, and I can afford to help where I can, but most of the girls here could be doing something somewhere else. They have their own lives to lead, and they've chosen to be a part of what we do here...what we all do here." She stressed the word "all."

"Yes, but I'm the only doctor. Nobody can do what I do here. I need help." He folded his arms.

"Steve...this isn't a competition or a debate. We can only do so much. Janet spends more time working with you than she does at the hospice. And she spends a lot of time there, so don't say you don't have any help."

"But I need more help...I can't work without some help here."

"You just have to pace yourself...like everybody else." Drea was losing patience with him; she wanted to help him understand. Whether it was frustration or providence, she blurted out,

"Listen...you're not the only one to ever lose someone you love." Drea was thinking of Annie, the love of her life. "Connie lost her mom to cancer last year…just as things had gotten good between them. God knows how many girls Cathilynn has grown to love, only to lose them to illness...suicide."

"Now wait a minute, Drea…that's not fair." He said.

"That's the whole point, Steve...nothing is fair...it's just what it is." She paused only enough to catch her breath.

"Your girlfriend killed herself for the very same reason this place was built...she lost hope! Hope that the Home provides. But you're here because you think if you only work hard enough...if you only help enough girls...somehow her life will have had meaning? Her life always had meaning ...she just was too hurt to see it."

"You don't understand!"

"I don't? I threw myself into my work after my first wife left me...I was going to do the same when Annie died, but my daughter reminded me that I wasn't here to save anyone..." Tears welled in Drea's eyes.

"We're here to participate in what goes on...nobody here has a corner on grief. And we can't help everyone."

Steve's eyes flashed at that and he said angrily,

"What do you know? I was there...I know."

"You blame yourself because you couldn't prevent her from making her own choice. And then, you feel like you have to be the doctor to help girls like her, right?" Steve stood silent, his fists clenched and tears in his eyes.

"You would better serve this community if you were kind and thoughtful again. But the job…and it is a job to you...is becoming more important than the people you serve with. Do you really think that's what honors her memory?"

"Now wait a minute, you can't come barging in here and..."

"Steve...I know it’s the anniversary…it wasn't your fault." Drea said softly, her hand reaching once again to touch his arm. He went to pull away, but she grabbed his arm softly and said,

"She made a choice...that put you on the path that brought you here. But you need to understand," Drea paused once again. She smiled and patted him on the shoulder softly.

"You're here in spite of what she did, not because of it."


Janet had just wiped Carla’s forehead with a cold compress when she looked up to see Margo and the children standing in the doorway. Carla lay on her side, staring out the window.

“Daddy?” Kyra cried as she ran to the bed. Margo quickly followed, but Keith stood at the doorway with his arms folded.

“Honey, come see your father, okay,” Margo said as she beckoned Keith with her hand.

“No…you can if you want, I don’t fucking care anymore!” He said and stormed down the hallway. He punched the wall once, knocking a picture off and onto the floor. Sandra came out of the office and looked. This was one scene she never got used to. Keith reminded her of so many children over the years who had come to visit. She shook her head and decided to give the boy some space.

Keith sat on the floor, putting his elbows on his knees, propping up his head. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he hit himself in the head with his fists in anger and frustration. A girl, about sixteen years old, walked slowly past him, trying without success not to disturb him.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” He snapped at the girl, who failed in her attempt not to stare at the scene played out before her.

“You okay?” She said, not knowing what else to say.

“Does it look like I’m fucking okay? Fuck no!” He snapped at her again. She resisted her own urge to tell him to “fuck off,” and said,

“Hey, I’m sorry. You look really pissed off. Never mind!” She started to squeeze past him.

“Oh, fuck! I’m sorry…” He put his head in his hands once again, trying to hide his face. He wasn’t going to cry in front of a girl.”

“What’s wrong?” The girl asked. She stepped back and leaned against the wall, almost anticipating another angry outburst.

“My dad is ….He’s in there,” he said, pointing to the room down the hall.

“Oh shit…sorry…You must be Carla’s son.” She looked at him and tried not to frown, but her face was etched with concern.

“What? Oh, fuck no! His name is Carl…Schroeder…HE’S my DAD!” Keith snapped once again.

“Ca…sorry….your dad isn’t doing too well. I’m so sorry.” Empathy was a new thing for her.

She resisted the urge to put her hand on his shoulder, instead sitting down on the floor catty-corner to him.

“I’m Candace. I live here with my foster mom. She works here as a nurse…She’s been helping your dad.”

“You live here?” Keith asked, his eyes widening in recognition.

“Yeah…I’ve been here for about a year. I’m from New York…my family…..” Her voice trailed off. She looked at him, waiting for his response.

“Wait a second…What the fuck?” Keith didn’t mean to be rude, but he was too angry to think.

“Are you…a...a...one of them?” He looked at her, almost horrified.

“Yeah, what of it?” Candace’s eyes widened.

“Nothing…it’s just…” Keith tried to speak, but his words seemed to be lodged in his throat.

“I don’t look like a fucking boy because I’m not a fucking boy,” she snapped.

“But…”

“But what…I look like a girl because I am one, jackass.” Which was mostly true. Candace looked at Keith, waiting angrily for a response.

“Fuck, you don’t have to bite my fucking head off, I just…well, besides my dad…” He shook his head and looked down the hall.

"I never even saw one of them." Keith said.

“Jeez…you are so…” Candace shook her head.

“You fucking asshole…she’s the best thing that ever happened to me besides Janet, and you’re just throwing that away.”

“Who the fuck are you to tell me? He’s my father, not yours.’

“And thank God for that. You don’t know what you’re missing. I wish I had someone, anyone just like her when I was growing up.” Candace looked down the hall and then back at Keith.

“Stop saying that…HE’s my DAD!”

“I don’t care what the fuck you call her, but you should be in there with your mother and sister. You should be saying good bye!” Candace tried oh so hard not to, but she buried her face in her hand and began to cry.

“What’s that for? Oh fuck…I’m sorry…shit…I’m sorry…please don’t cry.”

“Listen…” Candace held back a sob.

“There’s plenty of time to be fucking angry after she’s gone, but right now she needs you…SHE needs you,” Candace pointed down the hall.

“I only wish I had a dad like her.” Candace realized what she said and added,

“You know what I mean, so shut the fuck up.” She wiped her face with her sleeve.

“What was so bad about your dad?” Keith asked. “It can’t be worse than having a fucking father who wants to be your fucking mom!”

“I never knew my dad…and my step dad…” Her voice turned from sad to angry almost instantaneously.

“What…what was so bad?” Keith had grown impatient.

“My mom…fuck….Do I have to spell it out? My mom pimped me out to my stepdad, okay? Fuck!” She lost all control and began weeping. Sandra came out of her office and looked down the hall. She watched as Keith tried to console Candace. He put his hand on her shoulder, but she shied away.

“Is that why you want to be a girl?” Keith meant well but he had no idea.

“No…I wanted to be a girl ever since I can remember. That had nothing….. I am a girl! Look, just get the fuck away from me, okay? Go see your father…go see CARLA…yes… Carla… she’s fucking dying, you fucking jackass. Go see her!” Candace turned her head to the wall.

Let this be our prayer, just like every child
Need to find a place, guide us with your grace

Keith hesitated before walking back down the hall. He lingered at the door to the room, watching as Sandra came out of her office and led Candace down the hall. He turned and entered the room as his mother was talking.

“Honey, Kyra wants to tell you something, okay?” Margo’s eyes were red, but she had kept from sobbing by biting her lip.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Carla said in a whisper so soft Kyra had to put her ear next to Carla’s mouth.

“I love you Daddy. Mommy says I can call you Aunt Carla…is that okay?” Kyra started to cry.

“Of course, honey. I love you so much.” She could hardly be heard above the heart monitor.

“Give me kisses?” Carla said and Kyra leaned closer and began kissing Carla all over her face.

“Daddy…do you have to die? Can’t you stay? Please?” The little girl began to cry once again. Margo put her arm around her daughter. She stared at Carla’s face, looking for strength to say what she needed to say.

“I don’t understand this at all. You should have come home. We all love you.” She tried to smile, but her tears gave way to sobbing.

“I am so fucking angry with you,” she said, forgetting that Kyra was next to her. Kyra was crying into Carla’s sleeve and didn’t hear the words.

“You should have come back. Why didn’t you come back?” Margo needed to know, and Carla needed to be free.

“I thought it would be best for you and the kids,” Carla said weakly…Her voice was almost too soft to hear.

“Best for us?” She said.

“I…I nnneee…ver stopped loving you, Carl…never.” Margo leaned over and kissed Carla’s forehead.

“I can’t…I won’t be angry any more. I forgive you….Just tell me you love us and it will be okay …please… for the kids…for me…” Margo sobbed and fell to her knees. She leaned closer and kissed Carla on the cheek.

“I love you Carl…I always will. Always. And I love you too, Carla…I don’t know who you are, but you’re part of my best friend…so I guess I…oh I don’t know.” It was all too much for Margo to understand, but she didn’t travel nearly thirteen hundred miles just to get stuck on principle.

“No matter what, I love all of you.” She choked back a sob.

“NO!” The voice came from the doorway.

“I hate you…I hate you!” Keith yelled as he rushed to the bed. Margo went to grab him, but he pushed past her and fell against Carla’s prostrate form. He put his head on Carla’s chest and sobbed, over and over.

“I hate you. I hate you, Daddy…I hate you.” Carla raised her hand feebly and stroked Keith’s hair.

“I hate you….Daddy….noooo.nnnnooo I’m sorry Daddy….don’t go ….I love you…please…please.” Keith wept in Carla’s arms and Margo put her hand on his shoulder.

“I love you Keith….I love you all.” Carla continued to stroke Keith’s hair and pat Kyra on the back. Her hand brushed against Margo’s. She felt Margo grip her hand and her voice saying simply,

“It’s okay…we love you…we love you.” A few moments later, Margo felt Carla’s hand go limp. Keith looked up and saw Carla’s face. She was smiling, but there was no light in her eyes. Keith looked up at his mother who took her right hand and covered her mouth. She went to cry, but no sound came out. She tried to reach out to Keith, but he had stood up. He took his sister in his arms and cried as hard as he ever had. She was nine and she almost understood what was happening.

“Four seventeen,” the voice said from the other side of the bed. Janet stood next to Carla’s body and tears streamed down her cheeks. She looked up and saw Candace standing in the doorway, weeping.

“Excuse me...I’ll leave you for a moment,” Janet said as she walked to the doorway. Gathering Candace in her arms, she kissed the girl on the forehead, pulling her in more. Candace buried her face in Janet’s sweater and sobbed.

“It’s okay, honey, Momma’s here.” Janet said softly as she stroked Candace’s hair…”It’s okay.”


Beth had gotten off work at the Home late, trying to make sense of the books. Connie had left when she and her new bride departed on their honeymoon, and the books were in a system that Connie and Connie alone could understand. Time doesn’t stand still, even for romance, so Cathilynn asked Beth to fill in for Connie until she returned. She knocked on the door softly. Stepping in, she noticed a familiar figure sitting on the couch.

“Simon?” She said. He was watching Paula Dean expound on the benefits of cooking with butter.

“Hi, Simon, have you seen Carter?” She asked. Simon was her brother’s best friend, so it wasn’t unusual to find him at Carter’s apartment. Never the less, she found herself startled at his presence.

“He called to say he wouldn’t be able to make your dinner date; something about a last-minute meeting at work. He said he couldn’t get you on your cell phone or at work. So he asked me to come over here to meet you.” Simon smiled warmly.

“Thanks, Simon…. I've been in a lot of meetings over the last couple of days, and we seem to have been playing phone tag. Anyway, thanks again. And good seeing you.” Beth never used pleasantries like that.

“Say, since you’re here already, why don’t we go out for some dinner?” He smiled again…that smile.

Beth felt oddly warm and found herself saying,

“Sure, why not,” even as she felt like saying the opposite. She wasn’t surprised that Simon would have asked her that, but she was completely surprised when he added,

“My treat.” He smiled once more. This was getting painful.

“Sure,” she said, but quickly added,

“Why?” Her voice sounded almost suspicious.

“Why what?” Simon asked as he smiled again, disarming Beth's suspicions.

“Why treat?” Beth was almost angry with herself over the question.

“I’m generous to a fault, I suppose.” He laughed, which did little to dispel Beth’s fears and everything to make her wish she hadn’t asked.

“Actually, I’ve been trying to think of a way to ask you out without asking you out…been hard to remember what a date was like, you know?” He smiled once again, which further eroded Beth’s defenses.

“Really,” Beth looked at Simon and her face began to turn crimson.

“Of course. You know, your brother often sings your praises.” Simon smiled, evoking an even darker shade of red to spread across Beth’s cheeks.

“He’s your biggest fan, you know? He thinks the world of you!” Simon said.

“That’s Carter alright.” Beth said, forcing a smile.

“I happen to agree,” Simon smiled yet again.

Beth frowned and bit the inside of her mouth.

“Simon, I’m not really who you think I am,” she said, adding to herself, “or what.”

“Does my heroine have feet of clay?” Simon smiled once again; it was almost excruciating.

“If he only knew…” she thought, unconsciously shaking her head

“Relax, Beth,” Simon began abruptly. It occurred to her that she hadn’t heard her name spoken by a man in a long time…it felt uncomfortable and good at the same time.

“Beth…It’s okay….I know.” She blinked her eyes in comprehension as he repeated once again,

“Beth…It’s okay…I know.”

Give us strength so we'll be safe.


Extravagant Love

these are days you'll remember
never before and never since, I promise
will the whole world be warm as this
and as you feel it, you'll know it's true
that you are blessed and lucky
it's true, that you are touched by something
that will grow and bloom in you

"You leavin' today?" Candace sat on the floor in the hallway and looked at the boy.

"Yeah...Mom and that lady...Irene? They were talkin' about the funeral and everything."

"I'm really sorry about yesterday...You didn't need me yellin' at you and all." She looked down at her shoes. For some reason, Candace felt the need to wear jeans and a tee shirt. Her sneakers were nondescript.

"Keith? I'm sorry, but this is really hard for me...I'm tryin' but I can't think of your dad without sayin' Carla...I think of her..not him...I'll try to remember that..but it's hard to say the other words..his name, you know. I've know her...him for six months...She even started teachin' me guitar."

Candace put her head down and started to cry. Instead of sympathy, Candace was met with anger.

"See...that's what makes me so fucking angry. You got to spend time with my fucking dad..not me...not my mom...not my sister. It's so fucking unfair." He punched the wall, once again knocking a picture down.

"Before yesterday...fuck...I haven't seen my dad in over two years...do you know what that feels like?" Keith tried hard not to cry. He was almost fourteen, and he wasn’t going to show any weakness in front of the girl.

“No…I don’t. I wish I did. I wish I had a father that actually cared for me. I wish my step-father…” Her voice trailed off. Keith looked at her, and he began to understand even as he hated his father he loved his father…the person he never understood…the person who left him…

“I wish your dad never died…I miss…oh fuck…I’m so sorry.” Candace got up and ran down the hall, nearly running into Drea as she stepped into the hall from Sandra’s office.

“Candace,” Drea called out but the girl had already left the building. “Damn,” Drea said to herself as she saw Keith sitting on the hallway floor. With Candace gone, Keith’s defenses departed as well and he wept openly once again. Drea walked down the hallway and sat down on the floor next to the boy.

“Keith…your mom and sis are taking a nap…You’re going home tomorrow instead.” She said softly, putting her hand on the boy’s shoulder. He pulled away sharply, banging his elbow into the wall. The picture on the wall came crashing down onto the hallway floor.

“Keith…it’s okay to cry…it really is. Your mom and I just had a good cry together.” Drea put her hand on the boy’s shoulder once again. This time he offered no resistance, but said angrily,

“What do you know…you’re probably just like my Dad. Did you leave your family, huh? I bet you left your family and hurt them too!” The boy was almost hysterical, but Drea persisted, stroking the boy’s hair. He began to calm down as his defenses departed completely. Collapsing into her arms, he wept hard enough to shake them both.

“Why did he leave me? What did I do…What’s wrong with me. Why didn’t he love me?” He said over and over, like a mantra. His body convulsed, releasing a year’s worth of anger and frustration.

“You didn’t do anything, Keith.” Drea said. She felt the boy’s shaking subside. Pulling a tissue out of her sweater pocket, she handed it to Keith. Holding him at arm’s length, she looked at him and said once again,

“Keith…you didn’t do anything. Your mom didn’t do anything. Your sister didn’t do anything. Your dad told me just yesterday morning how much he loved you.” Drea respected Carla’s decision, but she also knew that the woman she came to know in her brief time at the hospice would understand the use of male pronouns and her old title for her son’s sake.

“Janet was going through your Dad’s things and came across an envelope with some letters in it. This one is addressed to you. I know you’ll want to read this. I can leave you alone or stay, whatever you want.” Drea said softly to the boy.

“I…guess…you can stay…don’t go,” Keith said. He felt strange, talking to the woman next to him, knowing that she was probably just like his Dad…at least he thought. As angry and sad and scared as he was, something inside him felt safe with Drea at his side.

“Here’s the letter…no one has opened it…that’s for you to do, okay. I’ll just sit here and you can talk or not…okay?” Drea said softly.

“Yeah, okay.” Keith found himself squeezing her hand as he sat up. He opened the letter carefully and tenderly, like it was a treasure. Unfolding the note, he noticed the paper was white. He had almost expected pink, not knowing what to think about his father. He read…


Dear Keith,

I am so sorry I left. Do you remember when the neighbor’s dog bit Kyra? She wouldn’t go near any dog, and the sound of barking…even on the TV…would scare her. It took a while, but she was able to be around dogs. But you remember how scared she was. You used to say to her, ‘Hey..It’s okay!’ Remember…and she was okay. Well I was scared, and I didn’t have anyone to tell me not to be scared. I wish I had listened to you when you helped Kyra…I’m so ashamed for making you and your mom and your sister worry. I never meant to hurt you, and I am so sorry that I left…I know I said that, but you have to know it wasn’t because of anything you did. You are the best son anyone could ever have. I am so proud of how you have taken care of your mom and sis. Know that I love you and I’m so proud of the man you’re becoming. Give Kyra a kiss for me, okay? Dad

Keith looked at Drea, as if to ask a question. Looking at the letter once again, he began to cry, not hysterically or loudly, but softly. He might have felt uncomfortable had he thought about it, but it felt entirely okay as he put his head on her shoulder and wept. She held him and rocked him, saying softly,

“It’s okay, Keith…go ahead…let it out.” Tears streamed down her own cheeks as she felt connected to the boy’s grief and sadness. “It’s okay.”


these days you might feel a shaft of light
make its way across your face
and when you do
you'll know how it was meant to be
see the signs and know their meaning

Connie walked into the office aglow. She and Paulette had just gotten back from their honeymoon. She ignored the pile of work on her desk; plenty of time for that on Monday when she returned. Beth looked up from her desk and half-frowned, but then jumped up and ran to her friend.

“How was the trip, honey?” Beth wrapped her arms around Connie and kissed her on the cheek in welcome.

“It was fabulous…I never had so much fun in my life, and it’s wonderful to have someone to love.” Connie beamed as her partner Paulette walked into the office carrying a large bag.

“We got some nice scarves and some other nice things,” Paulette said as she put the bag on the credenza behind Connie’s desk. She walked over and kissed Connie lightly on the lips before pulling Beth in for a hug.

“You two look just wonderful together…I’m so happy for you!” Beth said. She hoped that things would be just as lovely...maybe Simon might ask her? He and her brother had talked about her...status. He found her amusing and charming and simply lovely, but even though her past had not put him off, neither had he expressed any commitment other than a friendship...at least for now.

Irene and Kerry walked in at that moment. Both women walked quickly to the happy couple and greeted them with kisses and hugs.

“You got back just in time. I was wondering if I was going to have to spring for a wig, since Beth has been pulling her hair out since you left.” Irene laughed.

“Oh stop…everything is okay. I hope you don’t mind, but what documents I couldn’t find a file for I shredded, is that alright?” Beth chuckled.

“Very funny!” Connie smiled and walked over to her desk. A note sat on top of her day-planner. The envelope simply read, “See me, hon. Drea.”

“Is Drea around?” Connie asked, holding up the note.

“She was talking with the Shroeder family a moment ago. You might find her on the back deck.” Beth said. Connie nodded and smiled.

“Be right back, okay?” She said as she walked toward the doorway.

“I’ll just hang here and regale our friends with tales of our wedding night, okay?” Paulette said with a smile. Paulette’s remark was met with a chorus of “oohs” as Connie walked down the hall to the back exit.


Drea sat on the railing of the deck, sipping a Diet Pepsi. She looked up and saw Connie come out on the deck.

“Hi, sweetie, welcome back. You look radiant!” Drea said as she hugged Connie. “You get my note?” She smiled.

Connie nodded and Drea looked over at the picnic table in the middle of the deck. Sitting on it was a large carton.

“Let me show you something honey.” Drea said as she walked over to the table as Connie followed.

Drea picked up a thin book off the table. Connie recognized it instantly and tears came to her eyes.

“Where did you get that…I’ve been looking all over for a copy since the coffeemaker broke and spilled all over mine.” She received the book as if it were a treasure.

“Let’s sit down honey. I’ve got something I want to talk with you about, okay?” Drea pointed to two chairs that stood against the railing of the deck. They walked over and sat down.

“I know it was so hard for you, honey, and I know you wanted to put a good face on for the wedding,” Drea said. She smiled warmly and continued.

“It must have been so hard to keep from crying before the ceremony. I know your mom would have been there if she could.” Drea found herself misting from just the thought of Connie’s pain.

“She was there in spirit…I guess,” Connie said half-heartedly. She looked past Drea onto the grounds behind the home, busy with new construction and landscaping.

“To have her die just before the wedding must have been so painful.” Drea didn’t want to stir up things, but what she ultimately had to share with Connie would be a blessing, if they could just get past this part. Connie began to sob softly.

“She….we had just gotten to know each other again.” Connie looked up as if to pray.

“I know it isn’t fair or unfair. But it hurt that she couldn’t be there. That’s why this is so…so precious.” She held the book up.

“I know, honey. She gave you that when she came the first time…after so many months without a word.” Drea found herself crying along with Connie.

“She never understood. Daddy didn’t just not understand, he hated me…absolutely hated me. I tried for so long to fit in. When he died and Mom blamed me…it hurt more than anything I’ve ever felt.” Connie shook her head, wondering how anyone, much less her own mother, could have said such a thing.

“But it didn’t end there,” Drea said, almost like a child completing a chapter of a favorite story. She smiled, knowing the response.

“She came that day you got me from the office. She was so sorry. She didn’t understand why I did what I did,” Connie said, recalling her GRS (genital reconstruction surgery).

“You know the funny thing? She never did understand. But that day she came she told me she wanted to understand; that I was her baby no matter what.” Connie held up the book again.

“And she gave me this,” Connie blinked away her tears and continued.

“I’ll Love You Forever,” Connie spoke the title. “By Robert Munsch…the most precious gift I’ll ever get.” She looked again at the book and began reciting by memory,

“I’ll love you forever; I’ll like you for always. As long as I’m living my baby you’ll be.”
Connie had barely finished the words when she collapsed into tears. She didn’t notice that Paulette had come out on the deck. Paulette walked over and knelt down and cradled Connie’s head in her hands, kissing her on the forehead. And to Connie’s surprise, Paulette sang in her own melody,

Well, that mother, she got older.
She got older and older and older.
One day she called up her daughter and said,
"You'd better come see me because I'm very old and sick."
So her daughter came to see her.
When she came in the door she tried to sing the song. She sang:

I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always...

But she couldn't finish because she was too old and sick.
The daughter went to her mother.
She picked her up and rocked her back and forth,
back and forth, back and forth.
And she sang this song:

I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always,
As long as I'm living
my Mommy you'll be.

All three smiled and wept as they remembered Connie’s mother. Drea waited until the crying had at least ebbed a bit. She grabbed Connie’s hand and said softly,

“Sweetie, I’ve got something that you’ll want to see. Come with me, okay?” Drea stood up and walked to the table. She pulled open the carton and pointed to the contents. In the box were fifty copies of the book in paperback.

“Sandra has five more cartons in her office. We figured this was a good way to honor your mother’s memory.”

Drea picked up a small carton and opened it. The carton contained a card-sized insert reading,

Complements of The Home That Love Built
Restoring Families and Dreams.
In Loving Memory of Angelique Bevaqua
1946-2013
I don’t understand, but I love you, and that is enough.

“We plan on sending these out with our fundraiser next month. I hope you don’t mind?” Drea said as she put the insert back in the box.

“This is the nicest thing that anyone has ever done for me. I won’t forget this.” Connie said as Paulette squeezed Drea’s hand and mouthed, “Thank you!”


The next morning Candace sat on the railing of the front porch, looking at the construction in the lot next door. The clinic had expanded to include the hospice and a respite house for family members, or at least would be once it was completed in a few months. The sound of the backhoe digging for the foundation prevented her from hearing the figure approach from behind.

“Hey…” Keith said, waving at Candace. She turned and half-frowned, but quickly said,

“So you leavin’ today?” Candace said, her frown changing quickly to a surprising smile.

“Yeah…the funeral is Saturday, and we’ve got a lot to get ready. That lady Irene gave my mom a check for a bunch of cash…Mom didn’t say anything but I figured by the way she was cryin’ it was a lot.” Keith smiled back, feeling odd but good.

“Yeah…she’s pretty awesome! I had to get new contacts and she took care of it.” Candace found herself smiling once again, and it felt odd but good.

“You from Baltimore? I heard the Ravens are thinkin’ of gettin’ a new half back.” Candace said. Keith looked at her and almost did a double take.

“You follow football?” He asked, shaking his head.

“Sure, why the fuck not…why not, sorry. Janet’s been tryin’ to help me stop that.” Candace’s face turned red.

“I thought you didn’t like sports…I mean girls like you. I mean…Oh fuck!” Keith started to turn red himself.

“Whaddya mean, girls like me?” Candace asked with a glare.

“I’m sorry…I don’t know what the fuck you like…what do girls like you like…I mean don’t you like girl stuff?”

“Football is girl stuff.” Candace said with a hint of anger in her voice. But she followed with,

“I bet your mom likes football!” Candace smiled knowingly.

“Yeah…we watch the Ravens all the time. Who do you like?” Keith found himself smiling even though he wanted to frown.

“The Giants…I’m from New York, remember?” Keith didn’t remember at all. He found himself staring at her and said,

“You like Manning…He’s a dog!” He laughed. Candace looked at him and frowned and said in return,

“Yeah, I love Manning.” It came out a little more emphatic than she had meant.

“Yeah…I figured…well, he’s married. You’ll have to find another QB to root for…How about Sanchez…I think he’s available.” Keith smirked.

“You jackass! Manning won a Super Bowl, Joey Flacco is a moron!” She stuck her tongue out.

“Sorrrreeee!” Keith said. “I just thought…you’re a girl and…”

“I like football…I also like music and singing and….sewing.” Candace said sheepishly. She was only a little embarrassed. Being a girl was a lifelong journey. Learning about being a girl was almost brand new, and stereotypes and differences got all mixed together, making for a confusing if interesting trip.

“I bet you like the Yankees…you look like a Yankee fan!” Keith laughed at the joke only he got.

“I don’t like baseball…it’s boring…takes too long and nothing happens. Now I do like basketball.”

“Yeah…the fucking WNBA!” He laughed until she punched him hard in the arm.

“Yeah...and the final four…NCAA you know…and NBA LeBron and Kobe! And Steve Nash!” At the mention of the Sun’s point guard, Candace’s newly discovered crush betrayed her…”

“He’s got funny eyes.” Keith said.

“Does not…besides…he’s the best passer in the league!” She smiled once again.

“I guess…” Keith looked at Candace, and it almost seemed like he was beginning to understand.

“Keith, honey, we’ve got to go…say goodbye to your friend.” Margo called from the van in the driveway.

“Well, I gotta go. I guess I’ll see you, huh?” Keith smiled awkwardly and then frowned at himself as Candace said,

“Not unless you move here or me and Janet move to Baltimore.” Candace hopped off the railing. She hadn’t planned on it, far from it in fact, but she went to hug Keith goodbye. They stood facing each other for a few seconds and then it happened. It wasn’t real...was it? It couldn’t be, but it happened.

“Well, see you anyway…I’m really sorry about…your Dad.” Candace said. Keith smiled and without thinking kissed Candace on the cheek. He stared at her again for a moment and it hit him.

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry.” He said, and he was; not for kissing her, but for kissing her without warning. He had never kissed anyone besides his mother, his sister, his dad and his grandmother. And there he was, turning an even darker shade of red than before.

Candace stood there for a moment, almost matching Keith’s embarrassment. But she smiled and said,

“That’s okay. Have a good life, okay?” She looked at him and carried away by the moment, she leaned in and kissed him full on the lips. Realizing what she had done, she stepped back and said quickly,

“Bye!” She darted into the front door and was gone. Keith stood dumbfounded for a moment and shook his head. He walked down the steps to the van where his mother stood.

“Let’s go home, honey, okay?” She said, pulling him into a hug before they both got into the van. As they pulled away, Keith looked back one last time at the home and smiled. And while he felt good, he had absolutely no idea why.

The curtains parted slightly in the front family room. Candace smiled as she watched the van drive off. Janet walked into the room and asked,

“So where’s Keith, baby girl?” Candace turned around and thought for a moment about what Janet had just said. She ran right into Janet’s arms and burst into tears.

“It’s okay, honey, Momma’s here! It’s okay!”

these are days you'll remember
when May is rushing over you with desire
to be part of the miracles you see in every hour
you'll know it's true, that you are blessed and lucky
it's true, that you are touched by something
that will grow and bloom in you


Joyful in Hope

I go out walking after midnight
Along the lonely thoroughfare
It's not the time or place
To look for you
But maybe you'll be there


Each time I see a crowd of people
Just like a fool I stop and stare
It's really not the proper thing to do
But maybe you'll be there

"Hey, Beth, have you seen Irene or Cathilynn?" Kerry walked into the office and went right to the mini fridge. She offered her a bottle of water, but Beth pointed to the diet Peach Snapple on her desk.

"They just went to Irene's office to look for a menu for that Thai restaurant that opened up last week.

"Oh that sounds like fun, let's all go over for lunch." Kerry smiled and continued

"James is taking the boys to soccer practice later, so I've got the afternoon to myself." Kerry was proud of how well their boys, two Afghani orphans they had adopted, had managed to fit in without sacrificing who they were or their culture.

"Oh, I don't know... Payday's three days away, and I'm not exactly dressed to go out." Beth pointed to her jeans and tee shirt.

"Oh, hell, I got a sweater in my office that'll fit you, and it's my treat, kid." Kerry smiled, but her glad look was met with a half-frown.

"Okay...come on...give...what's really going on?" Kerry was still smiling, but her tone had almost changed to motherly.

"It's stupid...really nothing...I..." Beth turned away.

"He hasn't called, has he?" Kerry asked with a frown, which gave Beth permission to cry.

"I don't know what i said or did." She started tearing up.

"He was so receptive…he knew that you were trans and yet he asked you out...that has to count for something?" Kerry asked.

"I thought so, but he's backed off so much, it's almost like we never talked about my past, like he's having second thoughts or maybe he just realized that he doesn't want to marry.... someone..." Kerry didn't have to hear the finish to Beth's sentence. She walked over to Beth's desk and lifted her gently out of her chair and hugged her.

"I know he wants kids…we even talked about adopting if it came to..." Beth looked down at her stomach and imagined a womb that would never be. She began crying hard enough to shake Kerry.

"I know, Beth, honey." Kerry was perceived by more than a few people as being tough, which she was, but her own journey had brought her full circle to see her own innocence and tenderness restored. She stroked Beth's hair and said,

"I bet it feels like you wish he had never talked to you in the first place," Kerry said. Judging by Beth's reaction one might have thought it was the wrong question because Beth practically dissolved in Kerry's arms. But it was exactly the thing that was on her heart, and the thing that needed to be released. Irene and Cathilynn walked in and noticed the two standing at Beth's desk. Kerry turned around and said quietly,

"Hey, why don't you order lunch for four…my treat...we'll eat here, okay?" Irene nodded and walked over to a desk and picked up a phone. Cathilynn walked over to Beth and Kerry and kissed the girl on the cheek.

"It's going to be okay, honey...it's going to be okay." And once again, as she had for countless other girls, Cathilynn tilted her head back slightly, looked up and said softly,

"Please let it be okay?"

You said your arms would always hold me
You said you lips were mine alone to kiss
Now after all those things you told me
How could it end like this


That evening, Sandra was coming out of her office when she heard the front door open. Walking down the hall she saw a girl standing in the doorway under the entryway light. She was wearing jeans and a tee shirt. Her hair was black and cut short and misshapen, almost like an anime character.

“May I help you?” Sandra asked; which startled the girl. She turned toward Sandra and the overhead light revealed her to be in her mid to late twenties, but her demeanor was more that of a younger woman. Her lip was swollen and cut, and she her left eye was blackened. She was shaking from the cold of the opened door, and she offered no response, so Sandra said again,

“Honey, is there something I can do for you?” The girl whimpered something indiscernible, prompting Sandra to reach out to grab the girl’s hand. She winced, but Sandra insisted, saying,

“Let’s just go back to the kitchen to get an icepack for that eye and we can talk, okay?” After closing the door, Sandra walked down the hall, the girl following in tow close behind. As they entered the kitchen, Sandra motioned for the girl to sit down at the kitchen table while she opened the freezer. She produced an ice pack and said,

“Here, honey, put this over your eye.” She smiled and said, “Would you like some tea, or maybe some cocoa?” The girl shook her head no and looked away. Sandra walked to the range and turned on one of the burners and put the kettle on. A sweet soft voice, deeper than an alto, perhaps, asked, “May I change my mind?” Sandra turned and smiled, holding up two mugs.

“Is Cocoa alright?” The girl said yes and Sandra nodded, turning her back to get the mugs ready. A couple of minutes later, Sandra brought two mugs of cocoa to the table and sat down.

“What’s your name, honey?” Sandra looked at the girl and smiled again.

“B..BBi…Billie,” she said and she looked down at the table.

“I’m going to make a quick call, okay?” Sandra said as she got up.

“It’s going to be okay, Billie, I promise.” Sandra placed her hand softly on the girl’s shoulder before picking up the phone.”

“Karen,” Sandra said into the phone, “Is Nancy Kane still around? Oh shoot, anybody over there?” she asked. A moment later another voice came on.

“Jeez, Janet, don’t you ever go home? I’ve got a girl who just arrived…yeah, she’s just got the clothes on her back, and she’s pretty shaken up….yeah…she got hit and she’s got a black eye and her lip is cut. Is there anyone there that can do an eval? Drea is still there? You two ought to learn when to go home. Okay, ten minutes…I’ll see you in the kitchen over here, okay?”

Sandra walked back to the table where Billie had put her head on her arms. She lifted her head and looked at Sandra. Her eyes were red from crying. Sandra kissed her on the top of the head and sat down.

“I’ve got a couple of friends who are coming over in a few minutes. You need to have someone look at your lip and eye, honey, okay?” Billie nodded and put her head back down.

“I’m sure we can get you something to make you feel a little more comfortable.” Sandra said, shaking her head. She was glad the girl couldn’t see the angry look on her face. A moment later the back door of the kitchen opened and Janet and Drea walked in. Janet sat down immediately. Drea smiled at Billie, who had lifted her head to see who had come in. Drea walked over to the fridge and grabbed two cans of Diet Pepsi. Handing a can to Janet, she sat down next to the girl, whose look almost seemed to plead for attention.

“Hi, honey, I’m Andrea, but you can call me Drea. This is Janet, and you’ve already met Sandra.” Sandra realized she hadn’t even mentioned her name to the girl.

“Janet is going to look at your face and see if you need some medical attention. Don’t worry, she’s a nurse…one of the best.” Drea smiled at Janet who smiled at the girl.

“After she’s finished, I’m going to ask you a few questions so we can know how we can help you, okay?” Billie blinked back some tears and nodded. Drea reached into sweater and pulled out a tissue, offering it to the girl. Billie took the tissue and wiped her eyes.

A few moments later, Janet had finished. The lip, while cut, wasn’t bad enough for stitches, and thankfully no cut was open over the girl’s eye, but her black eye promised to be a rainbow of color in the morning.

“Can you tell me your name?” Drea asked.

“Billie…Billie Penn.” The girl looked down at the table.

“Billie…I’m going to ask you a few questions; just to get to know you and see how we can help you, is that okay?” Billie nodded.

“Can you tell me who hurt you?” Billie looked up and looked down once again.

“That’s okay. Billie, look at me for a second. I’ll ask you and you just nod yes or no, okay?” She nodded yes.

“Was it someone you know?” Nod.

“Family?” Billie shook her head no.

“Friend?” Billie nodded slowly.

“Boyfriend?” She looked up and tears streamed down her face.

“Honey, it’s up to you to decide what you want to do…I know what I’d do, but you need to decide for yourself. Sandra?” Sandra nodded and walked out of the kitchen. A moment later she returned with a camera.

“Billie,” Sandra said softly, “I’m going to take a couple of pictures, just in case you decide to take this further. You don’t have to do anything tonight, okay?” Billie looked up and Sandra pointed the camera at the girl’s face. A few moments later she put the camera down. She walked up and kissed the girl on the head once again.

“I’ve got to get going. Eleven is open and made up. I’ll leave my office open so you can get the key.” Sandra smiled and left.

“Does that mean…can I stay here tonight? I promise I’ll find a place to stay tomorrow, really,” Billie said as she wiped her nose with her arm.

“Oh, honey…you don’t have to find a place…you can stay here as long as you like.” Janet squeezed the girl’s hand. She pulled her hand away and rubbed the back of her neck. As she moved her hand, she felt the hair line. She pulled her hand down and started weeping.

“Did someone cut your hair like that?” Janet asked. The girl shook her head no. Drea’s eyes widened in recognition.

“You cut your hair, didn’t you?” It wasn’t an accusation, but a statement, accompanied by an assuring pat on the girl’s hand.

“They said I couldn’t come home….like….” She tried to speak but she began to sob.

“Your family didn’t want you as a girl, is that right honey?” Drea asked. Billie looked up and nodded.

“I…I went home. Mom met me at the door. She just said, ‘well, come in.’ When I tried to hug her, she just looked back at Daddy and then pulled away. Daddy was standing at the foot of the steps.” Billie wiped her face again.

“He looked at me and said that he told me it would happen and then he said, ‘I hope you’ve learned your lesson.’ I hope you’ve learned your lesson? Maybe I should have listened…He was fucking right,” Billie wept as she pointed to her bruised face.

“No, honey, no…you didn’t do anything wrong.” Drea shook her head and wiped the tears from her own eyes. “Nobody deserves to be treated this way.”

“It…it doesn’t make any difference. He looked at me and said, ‘Well, at least you cut your hair.” As she said it she unconsciously bit her lip, which evoked a wince of pain.

“I mean…I had the surgery three years ago…when I was twenty-four...what did they expect? I should have shut up, but I told him that he just taught me the last lesson I’ll ever need to know.” She put her hand to her face to cover her misplaced shame.

“I went to hug my mom and they both just stood there, staring at me like I was some sort of freak.” She looked back and forth between Drea and Janet.

“Now I don’t have anywhere to live and my own family hates me. I don’t even have a home anymore.” She put her head down on the table and wept, her shoulders rising and falling with each sob. Janet put her hand on the girl’s back and rubbed it gently.

“You do now, sweetie, you do now,” Janet said softly.


The following day….

It had been a long day, and Janet was ready to crash even though five o'clock was still over an hour away. Candace came into the Clinic and said,

“You got time to talk?” Janet looked up at her and smiled. Anyone else would have gotten a reply best left unsaid, but Candace was almost her world, so to speak. She waved Candace around and smiled as the girl hugged her tightly with an “mmmmm.”

“I love your hugs, kiddo, you do know that?” Janet said as Candace grabbed a chair from Karen’s office and scooted over next to Janet’s desk.

“I think I know what I want to be when I grow up,” Candace said it in an almost sing-song voice to kid Janet. They had been joking about it since Candace recently passed 5’9’ and was already eye to forehead with Janet.

“Okay, child of mine, what do you want to be when you grow up?” Janet smiled. The girl was determined to face life head on. She was doing much better than anyone had expected in therapy, and her hormone treatment was going as her doctor had anticipated. She would likely have surgery sometime after her eighteenth birthday, which was now less than two years away. By the time the summer would be over that year, her plans were to enter Johns Hopkins University as a Nursing student with the goal of becoming a nurse practitioner.

“I want to go into Obstetrics!” Candace practically yelled. Most parents would have been even the tiniest bit disappointed if their child didn’t follow them in their field. Not Janet. She understood even as the words left Candace’s mouth.

“You know, after being here for a while and being with you, I think I want to be where people ‘check in’ instead of ‘check out.’” She giggled, which got Janet laughing.

“Sounds like a great plan, baby girl. You think you can handle it?” Janet smiled, knowing full well the girl could likely handle anything thrown at her after her horrific childhood. At sixteen she had a good head on her shoulders, with a heart of compassion that beat loud and clear.

“No problem! Just one thing, though…it’s not much, if you don’t mind.” She smiled as Janet looked at her quizzically.

“Once the adoption papers go through, can I start callin’ you Mom?” Janet thought she was kidding, but she looked and saw tears in the girl’s eyes. Janet started to mist up, no knowing what to say. Candace did, and she went ahead and said it.

“Never mind, just forget about it,” she said in a mock serious voice. “I can’t wait…Mom!” She threw her arms around Janet and produced an envelope.

“Irene handed it to me when I got off the bus. ‘Candace Maria Martinez...McGuire.’ I’m all yours!” She threw her arms around Janet and began to cry, but the tears both of them shed were supremely joyful.”

“Has a nice sound to it, Candace McGuire.” Candace said as Janet hugged her and cried harder and happier than she had ever cried before.

Someday if all my prayers are answered
I'll hear a footstep on the stair
With anxious heart
I'll hurry to the door
And maybe you'll
Be there


Patient in Affliction

The sun is sinking in the sea
As she sings my life for me
A tapestry of children’s smiles
Wrapped in memories and miles
You’d better do the things you dream
See here, she said. You know it seems
That children rove while mothers sleep
The time that left is yours to keep


It falls from her like a cry
Softly like a lullaby
I can hear her sing with half-closed eyes
See here, she said. Dreams never lie

“Are you okay?” Cathilynn asked the woman sitting across from her as she shuffled some papers on her desk.

“Well, I guess I am.” Ronnie looked out the window into the parking lot beyond, as if to find some strength.

“Running a therapy group for relapse prevention or thinking errors is one thing. A survivor group is something else entirely.

Ronnie Sexton was visiting the Home while on an extended leave from the substance abuse program she ran in Sacramento; she was taking some time to recharge. Cathilynn was an old friend from “before,” and now they both were fairly settled into their respective fields.

“Tell me why it is you want me to run this group in particular?” Ronnie asked. Nancy Kane was visiting her daughter in South Dakota along with her son-in-law and new grand-daughter. So Ronnie was available, but why this group? Both of them were aware of Ronnie’s history. She, like many others, had a history of abuse as a child. Ronnie had overcome many of her demons, but again, like many others, was always in recovery mode.

“I think you bring a nice perspective to the process. Your personality, for one. Your humor is a life-giver to everybody who knows you, dear.” Cathilynn smiled warmly at Ronnie. She reached into the fridge on her credenza and grabbed two diet Raspberry Snapples.

“Hey, how many transsexuals does it take to change a light bulb?” Ronnie smiled and Cathilynn winced, fearing the answer.

“Only one, but she needs a note from two doctors.” Ronnie laughed and shook her head.

“Oh, I’ve got one for you.” Cathilynn smiled again, feeling confident. ‘What were DeForrest Kelley’s last words?

“I’m dead, Jim.” Ronnie laughed and added, “Cathi, I told you that joke last time I was here.”

“Some things never change….at least most things," Ronnie thought as Cathilynn handed her the Snapple.


“Karen, would you come here for a moment?” Steve Garber had just sat down at his desk and discovered a note addressed to him. A moment later, Karen walked into his office.

“What’s up?” He pointed to the note.

“I found that under the door this morning. I don’t know what it means.” She shrugged her shoulders.

“Can you get me Janet? This looks like her handwriting.” A few moments later, Drea stood at Steve’s door.

“Janet didn’t write the note, Steve, I did.” Drea took a bite out of a pear and threw the core in the trash. She walked over and sat down. Steve seemed taken aback and leaned forward in his chair.

“Who do you think you are? You had no right to interfere.” He pointed to the note. Dina Chang had decided not to have her surgery, and had taken a last-minute flight to Chicago.

“I should have been told. I’m her doctor,” he said angrily. Drea smiled and looked at the note as if she hadn’t seen it.

“Steve, relax. She’s just having last minute jitters. She’ll probably change her mind sometime soon and return.” Drea leaned back and reached into her sweater pocket and pulled out a diet Pepsi. Popping the tab, she took a sip and smiled again at Steve.

“See, that’s why you should have told me. I could have talked her out of it.” He shrugged his shoulders. “But thanks to you, it’s too late.”

“Too late for what, Steve? For the surgery? Hell, she’s only twenty-seven. It’s not like it can’t wait a few weeks.” She smiled again.

“In a few weeks she might not want the surgery at all. You know she’s talked about going back to boy-mode. If I had time to talk to her…” Drea cut him off.

“Steve? Are you even listening to yourself? That’s the whole point. If she’s this uncertain about the surgery and even about transitioning, then she’s not ready for surgery to begin with.” She said this with a smile once again, but she was beginning to get annoyed, more out of her own problems of the day.

“I’m her doctor; I should be the one to decide that,” he said, but he didn’t look convinced of his own words.

“You are one of four doctors, as I remember. Nancy Kane is her Psychiatrist. Dr. Flores in town is her GP, and she’s got an endocrinologist that she sees as well. “

“Well I should have been consulted. You should have called me! I have a right to know.” Steve was more disappointed and frustrated than angry at that point. Drea shook her head.

“She called me from the airport. She was just about to board, and she didn’t want us to worry. She only talked to Nancy, and no one else.”

“Well Nancy should have called me right away.”

“Steve…she told Nancy not to tell you until after she had left. She didn’t want to talk to you because she was afraid you’d try to talk her out of her decision.” Steve got a pained, sad look on his face as Drea continued.

“From what I gather, this has been going on for weeks. She told Nancy that she was having second thoughts because her family has threatened to disown her. I can’t imagine being in that situation, but it has to be excruciating.” Drea recalled her family’s acceptance of her own decision and felt for the girl.

“Doesn’t she see that’s caving into their demands?” Steve asked. He wanted the best for her, but in this case Drea disagreed with his approach.

“Of course she does. But she has to make a choice based on what she can bear, not what we think is best. This sucks, but that’s what she’s faced with. Is she going to fulfill whom she feels she is, or is she going to hold onto her family. Either way she’s fucked…you know that, don’t you?” Drea rarely swore…at least in conversation, but she wanted Steve to know just how desperate the girl was.

“Should she be able to have both? Of course, but then we wouldn’t need the Home then, would we?” Drea’s eyes began to mist.

“The kid has two sisters that she misses terribly. She probably will change her mind a few times between now and when she finally is forced to choose. I hate that she has to choose, but that’s her life, and the life of a lot of the girls here.”

“You’re right…I just hate to see her dreams go…the life she could be living.” He wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

“Her mom is a lot more open than her dad, but right now, it’s one or the other; surgery or family. You don’t have any family to speak of right now and mine accepts who I am. For almost everybody else who walks through the doors here…including the people who work here…it’s not that way. They have to literally walk away from people they love in order to be whom they feel they were meant to be. I sure as hell wouldn’t be able to make that choice…Fuck; I did with my first marriage, and years of denying myself with my second marriage. Only at the end did I realize Annie had accepted what I was…even before I did. We all have to keep that in mind with everyone here; it’s their dream, not ours. “ She paused and wiped her face with her sleeve.

“Working here isn’t a duty or obligation; it’s a privilege and a blessing. Steve…It’s okay to want to succeed. But ultimately we’re not the Doctor here; we’re the instruments, right?” Steve nodded but he didn’t seem convinced.

“Two things come to mind that may help ease our disappointment." Drea made a point to emphasize "our," to show Steve he wasn't alone.

“Last week Annika Lindstrom died. And I wasn’t there.” Drea’s eyes began to mist; she still struggled with the guilt she felt even as she told the story.

“My medications have been giving me fits lately. The day she died I sat with her and her mom for about three hours. About five o’clock that afternoon, I started to get sick. I excused myself and went to the restroom. I didn’t expect I’d be that sick, but I was gone for about fifteen minutes.” Drea hadn’t told anybody, but her medication wasn’t the problem; it was that it wasn’t working any longer.

“Anyway…” Tears began to stream from her eyes as she recalled the moment. “When I came back….she was gone…I was only away for a few minutes and I felt like I had let her down.” Drea shook her head, trying hard not to cry. She swallowed and continued.

“Her mother came up to me and hugged me. ‘Thank you for this precious child,’ she said to me.” Steve looked at her and picked up where she had stopped.

“I remember…Janet said that Candace had been doing her homework and remembered she left her Calculus book in the hospice. She came in and noticed Annika and her mom.”

“Yep…not just a coincidence, from where I sit. She spent the next ten minutes holding Annika’s hand and talking about Stockholm. How she always wanted to visit Sweden. Then she talked about how she’d heard how pretty Sweden is in the summer. Annika died with Candace singing a nice song about wildflowers. She died knowing that people cared. I wasn’t there, but Candace was…it didn’t matter to Annika who held her hand; only that someone did.”

Candace’s act did little to comfort Drea. She still felt guilty over missing Annika's “departure.” And her own mortality was staring her in the face as well.

“And do you remember what Stacy said when she came out of recovery? You told me yourself, right?” She smiled and shrugged he shoulders.

“Dr. Steve…” His voice began to falter and the tears began to flow. Steve Garber was no less or no more proud than any other; his emotion wasn’t from pride, but from belonging.

“Dr. Steve,” he began again. “You saved my life.” He bit his lip and shook his head. Drea nodded in agreement.

“We get to be involved; like I felt when I got to ride along with my Dad on Saturdays when I was a kid, when he’d go fix someone’s sink or bathtub. I felt like I was part of a team…like how I feel now…like I belong. We get to be a part of what goes on here.”

“Yeah,” Steve said…"I see what you mean…a privilege and a blessing...I belong."

"And Steve, not to worry...Dina's staying with friends in Chicago. I expect she'll be back here sometime soon, okay?"


Beth was sitting on the couch in her apartment, wondering what was going on inside her. She still had feelings for Simon. But something new was stirring; something altogether foreign in a way, but hearkening back to a time when Beth didn’t even exist; at least in name. She scratched Pablo’s ears and a loud purr erupted from the kitten’s throat. Newly adopted from the shelter, the kitten was almost a kindred spirit; no one to claim him. Beth’s parents had died a while back and her brother was always busy with his own pursuits. She had started to zone out from the warmth of her comforter and the soothing sound of the kitten when the phone rang, waking her up.

“Hello…Oh…Hi, Simon.” She perked up even more at the sound of his voice.

“Dinner Tuesday? That would be great.” She smiled and looked at the kitten in her lap as if to say, “Things are picking up.” He climbed onto her shoulder and nuzzled her neck before settling on the cushion behind her head.

“Schiavelli’s? Sure…meet you there. Okay…bye.” In her joy over the call, she had completely forgotten any other concern she had.

“I guess we’re reconnecting, huh kitty?” She smiled at the kitten; who by now had started playing with the yarn to the new sweater she was knitting.

She hadn’t meant to get gushy at all, but she picked up the notebook that held her knitting designs. She turned to the back cover, which was filled with writing. Looking it over, she smiled, determining to add to the collection she had begun. Picking up the sharpie, she began to write.

“Beth Woodward….Elizabeth Woodward….Beth Davidson Woodward….and finally, Mrs. Simon Woodward.” She went to write another name, but hesitated. She looked at Pablo once again, who had dug his claws into her knee and was reaching to swat her pen as she wrote.

“I know...here’s one….Pablo Davidson Woodward.” She scratched the kitten’s ears once again. Fifteen minutes later, Beth lay on her side, covered by the down comforter. Lying on her on the comforter, Pablo tread on Beth’s shoulder, alternating paws while digging sharply into her arm with his claws. Beth fell asleep, but it wasn't Simon's face she saw as she faded...she saw someone else and she was at peace, and she almost seemed to purr as well.

"Elizabeth...." Pablo nuzzled her neck as she fell asleep uttering a single word softly....

"Penn."

My dreams are visions on the wind
Of places I have never been
Pictures only I can see
Songs that sleep inside of me


Drea had just put her purse on the hall table when two arms enveloped her in a soft hug.

“How’s my girl today?” Bella said as she squeezed Drea from behind.

“Tired…We have nobody in the hospice right now, which is a blessing. Don’t get me wrong. This kind of idleness I can live with. But I’m tired and I could hardly get going today. Any word? I didn’t check my messages before I left.” Drea sat down on the couch and put her head up against a pillow leaning on the wing.

“Lynn called from Dr. Jensen’s office. The results are in, and she wants us to come in tomorrow afternoon. Lynn sounded upbeat so I guess we can breathe a sigh of relief?” Bella smiled and kissed Drea on the cheek. She put her head on Drea’s shoulder. Drea turned her head slightly and blinked out some tears. Lynn had indeed sounded upbeat, but only because she had talked briefly with Drea that afternoon. Her mood then was entirely different; Lynn struggled with hiding her feelings, and her concern had come through in her voice.

“Do me a favor,” Drea had asked. “Call Bella at home and tell her that the results are in and give her a day for the appointment. Don’t tell her we talked, okay?” Drea had pled. Lynn did remarkably well at sounding upbeat. She would never share results over the phone, but her tone told Drea everything she needed to hear. No sense in spoiling the evening.

“Drea honey…Drea?” Bella said loudly, interrupting Drea’s train of thought.

“Oh, sorry, honey…I must have dozed off…What is it?” Drea said softly.

“Connie and Paulette will be here in about an hour. Janet and Candace will probably arrive at the same time. Candace has her debate team practice until 5:30 or so and then they’ll come straight here. Why don’t you go lie down for a nap, okay?” Bella kissed Drea once more before getting up.

“Mostaccioli and meatballs okay?” Bella asked. Drea had already fallen asleep, more worn out over the news she already suspected that the doctor would give them than the events of the day.

See here, she said. You must believe
See here, she said. Look at your dreams
For children rove and lover’s sleep
The time that’s left is yours to keep


Billie sat down at the desk in her room and looked for a pen. She pulled out her diary and began to write.

“Dear Diary: today was such a painful day. Beth keeps avoiding me and I don’t know why. Maybe she doesn’t like me like that. I guess that’s okay. I don’t even know what to think anymore. When Danny hit me, I started thinking about what’s important. I think last night’s group helped.”

Billie put down the diary and hopped onto her bed. She put her head down on the pillow, but her mind was racing, and a nap wouldn’t happen; at least not for a while. She thought of the group and how things seemed more in focus after she talked to the moderator after the session.


“I’m glad I met you all. Cathilynn tells me that Nancy won’t be back until Friday. First grandchildren always seem to get a lot of attention. So you’re stuck with me for at least another meeting. Pretty cool meeting you all. I’ll see you Thursday, okay?”

Ronnie breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn’t planned on talking about her own experience, but it seemed to be the thing to do. Her candor opened up the group enough that Beth actually talked about her Dad for the first time ever; a major victory due in no small part to openness that came from Ronnie’s willingness to be vulnerable. As she picked up her purse, Billie came up to her.

“Excuse me, Ronnie? You got a few minutes to talk?” Billie put her head down, almost expecting a refusal.

“Sure, what can I do for you?” Nearly seventy, she was still the picture of health, and looked as if she could have done three more groups and a family session.”

“I was wondering…how do you know…” Billie started to ask, but Ronnie cut her off.

“Whether you should be with a guy or a girl?” It almost seemed clairvoyant until she followed up with, “Relax, kid…I’m not a mind reader. You talked about your boyfriend and you kept looking at that other girl…Beth? All during the session. And no…nobody else saw you.

“Oh gosh…was I that obvious?” Billie’s face, normally a very pale pink, began turning darker.

“Relax. I sat across from you and most everybody else was either crying or laughing hysterically at my jokes...or was it crying hysterically at my jokes,” she quipped. “Nobody else saw. You’re just coming out of a shitty relationship and you’ve got the hots for a co-worker. So what else is new? Let me clue you in. There’s no ‘should’ or ‘shouldn’t’ when it comes to TG relationships … non-TG for that matter. You love whom you love.“

“Gosh,” Billie said softly as she shook her head. She opened her mouth to speak, but Ronnie cut her off again, “And you want to know if you’re TG, because you got molested, right?” Once again, Ronnie’s insight seemed uncanny.

“The answer is…I don’t know…but I’d be willing to bet you do.” She smiled.

“Let’s take for example…Pam is hurt by her Uncle Joey when she’s six and when she’s nine she feels like she doesn’t fit in…like she would feel more comfortable going to Mary’s house to play dress up than to Davy’s to play Nintendo. Suzie is molested by her Cousin Louie when she’s nine. She remembers wanting to be just like mom when she’s seven. Almost seems like cause and effect, right?“ She smiled and Billie put her head down, shaking it from side to side, confused.

“Kid…the two sometimes are connected but a lot of times...most times actually, one doesn’t necessarily follow the other. The best thing is this…do you have a good counselor you talk to?” Billie nodded but then shook her head.

“I talk to Drea once and a while, but she says I need to talk with someone who deals with ….I forgot what she said…post something.”

“Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.” Ronnie nodded. “Something war vets and abuse survivors have a lot in common. They're affected by past stuff as if it was still happening. You have any memories?” Billie looked down and her eyes quickly filled with tears, telling Ronnie all she needed to know.

“You sit down with Drea and with Nancy, and see if you can find a good counselor; somebody who hopefully who deals with gender issues as well as PTSD, you know? Someone who can walk you through that?“ Billie put her head down and her shoulders began to shake.

“But….” Billie started to cry.

“You don’t have to put your life on hold, kid. Talking helps, but you still have to live your life.” Ronnie pulled the girl in for a tentative hug.

“You’re going to find out the who’s and what’s and where’s and why’s and how’s, kid. And the people here will help you do that. And Billie?”

"Yes?" She almost cringed.

"I think you're a very sweet girl, and whoever you end up with will be one blessed girl...a person ...you know what I mean." Billie smiled, blinking back some tears.

"One last question, Billie, maybe the most important thing I'll ask you all evening."

"Yes," Billie did cringe this time, evoking big smile and laugh from Ronnie.

"Are there any good Pizza joints around here...I haven't eaten since yesterday!"


Billie put down her diary and climbed in her bed. She brushed her face with her hand; the physical pain of Danny’s punch was long gone, but the memory and emotion of the moment lingered. She closed her eyes slowly, fearing that she would see his cruel face. Instead, the warm smile of a pretty coworker filled her vision. She wanted to know for sure what to do. She had feelings for Beth, and this invasion of her vision was unsettling and comforting at the same time. She turned over, buried her face in her pillow and cried herself to sleep.

My dreams are visions on the wind
Of places I have never been
Pictures only I can see
Songs that sleep inside of me

Home Sweet Home

I have a feeling, it's a feeling,
I'm concealing, I don't know why
It's just a mental, sentimental alibi
But I adore you
So strong for you
Why go on stalling
I am falling
Our love is calling
Why be shy?


The Following Tuesday…

Beth was so excited that she arrived at the restaurant a half-hour early. She walked to the podium in the front by the bar and mentioned that her boyfriend had reserved a table. The hostess looked at the sign-up register.

"I'm sorry, there's no reservation listed for Woodward. Perhaps under another name?" She smiled at Beth.

"Well, you could try Davidson, but my boyfriend made the reservations." She peered over the podium, trying to read the entries upside down. The woman half-frowned and shook her head.

"Maybe I got the days mixed up..." She thought out loud. Opening her purse, she pulled out the post-it she had written on when Simon called.

"Tuesday...7:30...Schiavelli's." She was going to show the note to the hostess but thought better of it. She pulled out her cell phone and hit the preset for Simon. The phone rang several times before going to voicemail. She shook her head and wondered what was going on. A few moments, her questions were answered painfully? She started to walk to the bar.

"Maybe he didn't make reservations...Tuesday...slow night...that must be it." She thought. She sat down at the bar and ordered an O'Doul's. As she took the first sip she heard a familiar voice.

"Excuse me…Has a Miss Davidson been here?" Simon asked.

"Why yes," the hostess said. "She was here just a moment ago."

"When she returns, can you have her join me?" he said as he pointed to the table a few feet away.

"Certainly." The hostess smiled and looked in the direction of the Lady's room. Beth was about to get up from the bar when she saw an attractive woman walk to Simon's table. She kissed him on the cheek and sat down next to him. A moment later they were holding hands. Beth couldn't believe her eyes. She rose from the stool and walked slowly over to the table.

"Oh...ohhh…Hi…Hi Beth...I wasn't expecting you so soon." Simon said as his face grew two shades darker. The woman grabbed him by the wrist. She had a very pained look on her face and a very attractive diamond ring on her left hand.

"God, Simon...you didn't tell her? Oh my God...I am so sorry." The woman sat and looked at Beth before looking back at Simon, who offered no word to either woman.

"Yeah...I'm sorry, too." Beth said as tears streamed down her cheeks. She walked out of the restaurant quickly, barely making it to her car before she collapsed behind the wheel in a torrent of tears.


One Week Later - At the Clinic…

Let's close our eyes and make our own paradise
Little we know of it, still we can try
To make a go of it

“Excuse me,” the man asked softly. “Can you tell me where I might find Dr. DiMaggio?” Janet looked up from her crossword puzzle and came face to face with the most handsome man she had ever seen. Almost silver-haired, he was about her age, making him at least sixty-five.

“Hardly anyone calls her doctor, so you must be her eleven o’clock appointment.” Janet rose and walked around the desk. She offered her hand, and the man shook it gently but firmly; a man’s handshake she thought.

“Andrea and I go way back," he said and smiled warmly.

"Hi....I’m Janet...Janet McGuire."

Janet looked into his eyes; gentle and warm, a light brown, almost amber. He smiled warmly and said,

“I knew Andrea when she was Andy and lived in the same apartment complex when we both went for our doctorates; she was two years ahead of me in the program. Seems odd to call Andy a she, but that’s what she was, I suppose.” He put his hand to his chin, as if to try to recall an important detail, which he did a moment later.

“Oh, my, I’m so sorry. My name is Cal, Cal Meacham.” He shook his head once and smiled again. “I do that all the time. Anyway, I would like you to know at least that if I do forget my own name from time to time, I rarely forget a name that goes with a pretty face."

He smiled again and took Janet’s proffered hand and shook it gently. Janet wasn’t even aware that she was shaking hands once again until she felt the soft brush of lips at the back of her hand. She was still staring at her hand when Drea came down the hall way.

“Hey old friend,” Drea said as she hugged Cal, who patted her on the back awkwardly.

“Sorry, but it still seems odd after all these years.” Cal said as he broke the embrace. Drea noticed the look on Janet’s face and quickly said, “Oh, not THAT…he just hates hugging. His own mother still wonders if she’ll get a handshake when he visits.” She laughed.

“Why don’t you come back to my office and then I’ll give you the tour, okay?” Drea said as they walked down the hall. Janet followed their progress until they entered the office suite. She was surprised that Drea was hiring someone extra to help with the hospice. Between Drea and Giselle, the intern and herself, they had it covered. Janet spent more time at the clinic than at the hospice, and it made no sense to add another counselor.

Janet also wondered about her own reaction to Cal. Apart from a handful of brief relationships after her surgery, she hadn’t entertained any significant thoughts about her status as a single woman. Certainly as well, her time had been filled with the pull of need by the hospice as well adopting a teenager girl with gender issues of her own. And yet there was something completely different going on; she hadn’t felt this way since she had a crush on Bobby Wainwright in the sixth grade. She was lost in thought for a while, recalling long forgotten feelings.

“Excuse me,” She heard that same soft voice again.

“We’ve just finished our tour,” Cal said with a smile. “I was just wondering what you were doing for lunch.” He smiled again and Janet replied.

“Nothing…are you two going out for lunch?” She found herself staring into those soft brown eyes once again. Drea noticed but didn’t let on, saying instead,

“Oh…Not us. Bella and I were going to an appointment at lunch time, but you and Cal can go. I told him about that Thai restaurant everyone seems to like.” She smiled almost conspiratorially.

“Drea tells me that you’re a tea girl.” It would have seemed incredibly rude if anyone else had asked, Janet thought, but those eyes and that voice made it seem like such an innocent question.

“Ye….yyess....since 1985.” Janet stammered. Not knowing what else to say, she said,

“Dddddooo you like Thai?”

Cal smiled at her and said, “With you? Of course.” He smiled again.

“Of course.” The conversation was positively cerebral!

“Janet?" Drea interrupted. "Cal was talking about tea instead of coffee? He knows all about the home. It would be a surprise if he met anyone woman here who wasn’t tee!” She laughed.

“I’m sorry. Andrea and I chat online all the time. Since my wife Lydia’s passing several years ago we sort of leaned on each other. Drea's Annie was Lydia’s maid of honor.” His eyes seemed to twinkle when he mentioned Lydia’s name.

“You remind me a lot of Lydia…very keen eyes…like a mother eagle; you know...protective? I’ll bet you love children.”

“Boy, has he got me pegged…Oh…Drea must have said something” Janet thought almost missing the next few words.

“You favor her with your eyes…very attractive.” He said softly.

“Eyes…yes…” Janet said, she said as she stared into Cal’s eyes once again.

“Mmmmm, yes.” She said. “Eyes.”


Later that afternoon…

We might have been meant for each other
To be or not to be
Let our hearts discover

“Billie, can you come over here for a second?” Beth called from somewhere behind a desk on the other side of the office.

Billie walked over and found Beth sitting on the floor.

“This folder must have fallen out of the file. It’s stuck between the cabinet and the floor, and I’m afraid if I try to pull it out, it will rip. Can you reach over and pull up a little under the top drawer opening?”

“Sure,” Billie said, thinking to herself, “That’s the first time she’s spoken to me directly in a week.”

She reached over and lifted up slightly, freeing the folder. Beth placed it on the desk next to her and went to stand up. She had gotten wedged between the desk and the cabinet and had no traction.

“Here,” Billie said, noticing her difficulty. She placed one hand on the desk for leverage and pulled Beth up with the other hand. Billie went to turn to give Beth room to move but she realized she was still holding her hand. She looked at her hand and back at Beth, who said,

“Thanks, I’ve got it from here.”

Billie noticed Beth’s smile, which was quickly replaced with a frown. She was about to apologize when Beth said, “Oh, crap…it’s the wrong folder after all that. I’m sorry to waste your time, hon.” Beth smiled and tossed the folder on the desk.

“It wasn’t a waste of time at all,” Billie thought to herself. She was almost lost in that thought when Beth said, “Billie…you can let go of my hand now.” Another smile and a nod. Billie released her hand and Beth squeezed past her. As she walked past the credenza she noticed another folder.

“I can’t believe I missed this,” she said as Billie returned to her own desk. “Thanks anyway.”

“No problem.”

Billie returned her attention to her own work. Something made her think of a time long ago. When she was about twelve, she met Sarah McLaughlin backstage after a concert. She shook hands with her and vowed never to wash her hand again. She stared blankly until her train of thought was interrupted by a voice.

“You doing anything for lunch?” Beth was standing at her desk, almost leaning over. Like a pre-pubescent boy, she found herself staring at Beth’s cleavage.

“Luuunnnch???” She stammered, wanting to hide.

“Yes…You know…midday meal….soup…sandwiches…been all the rage for several millennia.” Beth laughed, and Billie found the down on her arms raise slightly.

“Oh…yeeahh.” She stammered once again.

“Look, you just started. My treat, okay?”

Beth put her hand out, innocently she would say later, and placed it lightly on Billie’s wrist, causing her to pull back sharply. Her hand hit the three-hour-old coffee sitting on her desk, sending it splashing onto her blouse. Beth ran to the credenza for some paper towels. She walked around to the side of Billie’s desk to hand her the wad of towels and her heel caught the edge of the carpet protector, sending her right into Billie’s arms.

“Get up…get up.” Billie almost pled, but Beth’s sweater sleeve was snagged on the armrest of Billie’s chair. Beth’s face lay inches away from Billie’s when it happened. Beth looked into those breathtakingly beautiful sea-green eyes and melted. She found herself literally letting go as her hands pushed away from the chair and she settled into Billie’s arms. With nothing to support her, Beth’s head fell forward and her lips came into contact with Billie’s cheek.

“Stop…stop it. Beth! Stop!” Billie said, but the more she spoke the words the less convinced she became. That Beth’s lips were now caressing hers may have had something to do with it.

“Staaahhhp….mmmm….sthhhaaap….mmmm.” Billie began to kiss back, first tentatively. It was the first time she had kissed a girl since she kissed Alicia DiMattea in fourth grade. A little boy may have kissed Alicia long ago, but the woman he became kissed a girl for the very first time.

“Nohhhooh…mmmm…..oooohhhh,” Beth uttered in return. A moment later they disengaged,.

“I’m sorry, Billie…I’ve never…” Beth had never kissed anybody like that. She looked away and her face turned dark pink.

“I’m so…soooo sorry.” She burst into tears and ran out of the office. Billie made a half-hearted attempt to stop her, but she was just as embarrassed and anxious as Beth.

“Oh, God, what do I do now?” It was more of an expression than a prayer. She heard a sound at the door and turned to see Irene standing in the doorway with her arms folded.

“She’s going to fire me…Oh shit…damn it!” She looked back at Irene, who smiled and said,

“Well?”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Smith. I’m so sorry…it won’t happen again.” She wiped some tears from her face, almost cringing at the sight of Irene walking slowly toward her. “Please, Ms. Smith?”

“No…no…not that.” Irene said and broke out into a broad grin.

“Whhhaaaa…whaaat?” Billie looked down at her shoes.

Irene actually grabbed her by the chin and lifted her head up. “Well? Aren’t you going to go after her?” Irene took her hand and turned Billie’s face to the doorway.

“Honey…it’s okay…go.” Irene smiled again. Billie stood up and started to walk to the door. She looked back and tilted her head as if to say, “Are you sure?”

“Go.”

Let's fall in love
Why shouldn't we fall in love?
Our hearts are made of it
Let's take a chance
Why be afraid of it

We might have been meant for each other
To be or not to be
Let our hearts discover

Let's fall in love
Why shouldn't we fall in love?
Now is the time for it, while we are young
Let's fall in love


Someone Old, Someone New

We are both lost
And alone in the world
Walk with me
In the gentle rain
Don’t be afraid
I’ve a hand for your hand
And I will be your love for a while?

"Beth...Come out." Billie knocked on the door.

"No...I can't...I'm so sorry." Beth called out from behind the bathroom door. Billie tried the knob, but it wouldn't budge.

"Stop, Billie...I'm sorry... I can't...I just can't. I'm not supposed to ...this isn't right." Billie heard a bump on the door which she guessed was Beth's head.

"I'm not going anywhere. You can hang in there 'til the end of the day, but I'm not leaving!" Billie said as she turned around. She lowered herself to the floor and leaned her back against the door.

"And you're not either unless you come out and talk." Billie wasn't used to being this assertive, but it was something that just seemed so right.

"Billie, I'm not kidding. I can't do this. It's not supposed to happen this way." She was crying almost hysterically.

"What's supposed to happen?" Billie asked, turning her head to face the closed door.

"I'm not supposed to...love..." Her voice trailed off and Billie heard her sit down on the toilet.

"What? A girl?" Billie hit her fist on the door trim, evoking a wince of pain.

"Yeessss.....I'm supposed to...." The voice coming from the bathroom was softer and almost subdued.

"You are supposed to do whatever the fuck pleases you!" Billie said. She looked down the hall and Irene was standing in the office door way, moving her hands as if motioning Billie to continue. By now Sandra and Cathilynn were also standing at the other end of the hallway.

Billie felt the push of the bathroom door against her back. She stretched her legs across the hallway and pushed against the far wall.

“Sorry. Not going anywhere. Listen to yourself.” She heard the latch click as the door pushed back into the doorway.

“But you don’t understand.” Beth was calmer, but still crying. “I’m doing what I have to do.”

“According to whom, dear?” Billie was getting tired of pushing and eased up on the door. Feeling nothing she relaxed.

“What do you want, Beth? What do you want?” Billie turned her head and seemed to be talking to the door. Sandra and Cathilynn stepped closer before Billie put her finger to her lips and actually mouthed “Be vewy kwiet…I’m hunting fowh an Ewiszabeff.” Both of them put their fingers up to their own lips in acknowledgment. Sandra practically tip-toed up to Billie and handed her a spare master key,

"Just in case," she whispered.

“I want…I... God I don’t even know.” She was crying harder now, and both Sandra and Cathilynn turned and started walking back down the hallway.

“Well, I know what I want, and I’m not leaving until you know, too!” She bit her lip. It played out almost comically, but she knew the pain Beth was in; she had felt it herself. Years of doing exactly what was expected brought her through her circuitous journey to her own crossroads, and Beth was standing in the middle of the intersection.

“I didn’t know myself until now, but I want you, Beth, if you’ll have me. I’m fucking damaged goods. I don’t have my head screwed all the way on, and I’m scared to admit it, but I need you. I need you more than I’ve ever needed anything or anyone. When we kissed just now, it was like you freed me from myself…all the stupid stuff I’ve ever done just went away…gone!” She was trying not to cry herself; someone had to be strong and Beth wasn’t about to.

“But what if?? What if you find you don’t like me?” She cried from behind the door. This wasn’t hysterical, but real ingrained fear reinforced with years of benign neglect by her brother and rejection by all of the ones who urged her to change but failed to validate her once the change was real.

“I don’t know? At this point, sister, I’m not even sure that I do like you, but I know I love you. More than anyone I’ve ever met. Ever!” Billie put her hand to her face and bit her fist to keep from crying. The tears began to fall down her cheeks and drip onto her shoe.

“I….I….don’t like….me either.” Beth wept out of frustration. Years of compliance were keeping the door closed even more than Billie ever could. She felt like she had to fit someone else’s expectations. Relationship after relationship failed as she found she could never measure up to requirements that never should have been placed upon her. She went on.

“I…can’t stand how I just give up…like I don’t belong or have anything to offer. I hate how I don’t say what’s on my mind.” She was more collected even as she wept softly.

“Billie? Billie? Are you still there?” She cried out, and her answer came in the door opening. Those sea-green eyes were filled with their own tears as Billie held out her arms. It was a simple and unassuming gesture upon first glance, but very important; Beth would have to decide. She would have to make up her mind to come to Billie. Either she wanted this or not, and it was up to her; not anyone or anything else.

“I’m right here in front of you. I love you. Do you love me?” It was an easy enough question to ask; much more difficult to answer. Did Beth really want what she had always pursued? Was it something she truly desired, or was there another way. She answered in the only way she knew how. Stepping out of the bathroom into the hallway, she kissed Billie. Not sensual in the true sense, but it was. Not romantic in the deepest way, but it was.

“Mmmm….sooo…sohhhrrreee.” She kissed Billie’s face as if it were the last time they would ever kiss. Her lips caressed Billie’s cheeks and chin. Her own lip bent almost sideways brushing against Billie’s ear. She cooed and sobbed and laughed and whispered and cried again. Billie answered back in the only way she knew how.

“I’m….soo…sohrreee….yoooo feeel…so bad.” She kissed Beth’s eyes. Her nostrils flared at the scent of Beth’s shampoo and she breathed deep at the smell of her cologne. She kissed Beth as tenderly as sisters do, and then as passionately as lovers will. She pulled back briefly. Beth’s eyes were still closed, and the tears just kept coming, but they were no longer fearful, dreadful tears. These were cleansing and freeing and comforting.

“I love you. I think fell in love with you the day we really met; when your hand touched mine and I felt your energy…your life touched mine that day.” She said softly as she kissed the tears off of Beth’s face. Her face pressed against Beth’s and their tears mingled in a wedding of emotion and love; a taste of what would come…what was yet to be realized but promised in this one gesture.

“Oh, God, Billie, I love you so much. When we met at the picnic…I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. I didn’t know why.” She began to sob in Billie’s arms.

“I’m sohhreeee……that you don’t ….lllliiiiike meee.” She continued to weep. Billie took her hand and brushed Beth’s hair from her forehead. She softly pulled Beth to her and kissed her forehead like a blessing and said.

“Oh……Beth……I’m….so sorry. I do like you. I like you a lot.” She turned and Irene was gone from the hallway. Sandra had retreated to her office, leaving one lone figure in the archway at the end of the hallway, where Cathilynn wiped her own tears with a handkerchief. She smiled and nodded once and then disappeared through her own office doorway. Billie turned again and looked at Beth, who had opened her eyes, her own beautiful brown eyes. She smiled through her tears and placed her head on Billie’s shoulder.

“I like you, too. A lot.” She said and put her hand on Billie’s heart.

“A lot.”

I feel your tears
As they fall on my cheek
They are warm like the gentle rain
Come little one you have me in the world
And our love will be sweet very sweet

Meanwhile, at Thai Gardens Restaurant…

“So…Andrea tells me you and she used to be in-laws?” Cal smiled as he sipped his green tea.
Janet smiled back but her body language was anything but welcoming.

“Yes, but not in the way you might suspect.” She smiled again, but her affect looked very nervous. She pushed her Salmon Panang with her fork.

“You were her ex-wife’s brother?” Cal smiled warmly; an entirely unexpected expression given what he had just said. He leaned over and grabbed Janet’s wrist softly and patted her hand. She put up no resistance, which surprised her more than it did Cal.

“Relax Janet. I’m an old hand at this.” He pointed to the wedding ring he still wore.

“Lydia worked at my step-brother’s clinic in Stockholm...it's where we met; and then as a nurse and later administrator before we relocated to Montreal.” He smiled at the warm grin widening on her face.

“Your step brother is…” She paused.

“Anders Nillson … your surgeon if I read the look on your face correctly.” He laughed softly at the growing irony of the conversation.

“Yes…I remember your wife…so sweet and supportive.” Janet’s eyes began to mist at the thought that her nurse had been the late wife of the man holding her hand.

“Oh...your Step-brother?” She asked. He nodded.

“Dad married his mom. He felt it was important for Anders to keep his family name; to honor his dad.” She nodded. What a remarkable family.

“I suppose I’m indebted to Andy one more time?” He smiled and looked at her again. She smiled back, but her expression grew quizzical.

“After all, I have him to thank for helping you on your journey. We might not have met otherwise, and that would have been an awful shame.” He surprised her by bringing her hand to his lips to kiss it softly.

There might have been a time where that gesture would not only have felt awkward, but downright embarrassing. She looked at his hand holding hers, and as they say, she melted. Right there in the restaurant between the main course and the complimentary vanilla ice cream.

He smiled once before speaking again. “I hate to impose, but there’s one last question I need to ask before we go any further. It’s really personal, and I hope it doesn’t make you too uncomfortable."

The very mention of the word uncomfortable did exactly what it wasn’t intended to do; it made her very anxious and worried about what he might ask. She nervously nodded yes.

“Janet McGuire, are you free for dinner?”

We both are lost
And alone in the world
Walk with me
In the gentle rain
Don’t be afraid
I’ve a hand for your hand
And I will be your love for a while


At the same time, across town…

“I’m so sorry. I wish I had better news, but we all knew this was almost a desperate measure.” Marnie Jensen sat at her desk, rubbing her face with her hand and blinking out some tears.

“There’s nothing desperate here, Marnie. We can always hope and pray.” Drea held Bella’s hand softly. “Still plenty of time, I’d say.” She smiled.

“Yes, I suppose that’s a good way of looking at it.” She bit her lip. In her years of practice, she had met many folks with faith that went beyond any prognosis. The couple in front of her seemed to thrive on challenge, from what she knew of them.

“I’m glad you’re our doctor, dear,” Bella said with a smile. I’ve known you since you were in kindergarten. To know that a friend is taking care of Drea means the world to me. “

“It’s times like this that challenge me and my faith.” Marnie said. “I know it’s not merely my skill and understanding as a doctor, but when I see something that affects people I actually know and care about, you know?” She shook her head and half-frowned, her own eyes uncharacteristically tearing up.

“Oh, gosh, yes. I understand perfectly. When my sister was dying, I thought of how much effort you put into helping the whole family cope. And then I realized…she was your babysitter …she held you in her arms, and it must have hurt so bad to feel so helpless.” Bella began to mist up.

“I’m just glad things are at least better than we had expected even if they’re not as good as what we had hoped for.” Drea said as she smiled at Marnie. “I’m going to be alright…we’ve got time enough, okay?” She reached over and put her hand on Marnie's wrist, patting it softly. "We're going to be okay."


Back at the home…

Cathilynn sat at her desk looking out the window. She smiled at the thought of what she had just witnessed a short while before. Beth was a real work in progress, and she was so relieved to find that she was discovering finally discovering herself. Billie was really a Godsend in a way, and not just for Beth, but her own recovery was a real testimony to the great need and reward of working there at the home. A soft knock came at her doorway.

“Hey, Cathi, have you seen my Mom?” Candace asked as she stood against the doorway, almost as if she was half-hiding.

“She went out to lunch with a friend of Drea’s…I expect she’ll be back any minute.”

“O…okay…if you see her can you tell her that I’m home and I need to talk to her?” Her voice was anxious, as if there was something quite wrong.

“Okay, honey…Is there anything I can do?” Cathilynn asked. She took a sip of her cranberry juice and smiled.

“Ah…maybe…..yeah…I think so.” Candace stepped out from behind the doorway. Next to her stood a teen about her age. The child was wearing a tee shirt and jeans and Sketchers.

“My friend here needs a place to stay.” She pointed to the child, who looked almost androgynous at first glance. Candace turned and motioned for her friend to enter Cathilynn’s office.

“This is Ethan….” She hesitated before correcting herself as her friend shook her head.

“I’m sorry,” she said, looking at her friend. “This is my friend…Emma.” Cathilynn looked the child up and down, and recognition flashed in her eyes.

“Candace? I thought we talked about this?” She frowned, but she wasn’t angry, just frustrated. She was going to continue but she noticed something that gave her pause. She blew out a breath, hoping she was wrong.

“Hi…Emma,” she hesitated as the girl stepped backward, her face beginning to redden.

“Oh, honey, it’s okay, I’m sorry if I was abrupt. So you’re a friend of Candace? School?” The girl nodded nervously and stepped forward, almost clinging to Candace while standing behind her.

“Sweetie, why don’t you sit down. I have some orange juice or water, are you thirsty?” She expected the girl would be very thirsty; she looked unhealthy and tired. Candace grabbed her by the arm and they both sat down in front of Cathi’s desk.

“She doesn’t talk much,” Candace said, looking at Emma, who sat quietly, almost cowering.

“Honey, are you alright?” Cathilynn asked. The girl remained silent as Candace shook her head. There were bruises around her left wrist and she looked like she hadn’t eaten for days.

“Candace, sweetie, why don’t you take Emma to the kitchen. There’s probably some pizza left from last night that you can have, okay?” She motioned to the doorway and noticing Emma’s distraction, she nodded and winked at Candace. The girls stood and walked out of the office and down the hall toward the kitchen. She looked out her doorway and then picked up the phone.

“Sam? We’ve got a problem.”

I feel your tears
As they fall on my cheek
They are warm like the gentle rain
Come little one you have me in the world
And our love will be sweet very sad very sweet
Like the gentle rain
Like the gentle rain
Like the gentle rain


Love, Sweet Love!

The look of love is in your eyes
A look your smile can't disguise
The look of love is saying so much
more than just words could ever say
And what my heart has heard,
well it takes my breath away


A few days later in Cathilynn's office…
"So tell me again why you keep ignoring me." Sam smiled and laughed softly. It was a dance that the two of them had been doing for years. For the most part, Cathilynn heeded Sam's advice. But today was one of those 'special' occasions where her heart dictated a contrary course of action.

"She's got at least two old fractures of her right arm, and her collarbone has been broken as well."

"That part I understand. What part of "Mayor's son" don't you understand?" The wording might have been abrupt, but his tone was soft and almost warm.

"Sam, come on...I don't care whose kid she is...she's been hurt and more than once...and it's still going on. You saw the bruise on her wrist. This kid needs our help."

"HE is the mayor's son, regardless of how she presents herself. You know that I support you 110% when it comes to the home, but we're not talking about a regular kid here. This could jeopardize everything you do here. Is one kid worth all that risk?" Sam felt bad even as the words left his mouth.

'Yes, old friend, she is worth everything if only for the fact that she's a living example of why we built the Home in the first place. Besides, once Social Services finds out, it won't make any difference what the mayor feels, or anybody else for that matter. I asked Bella's nephew to place the call from his cell so that it's removed from any connection to the Home. That way we can avoid any conflict that might arise regarding our involvement."

"I hope you know what you're doing. This could blow up in your face, and I can't fix it if it does." He paused and shook his head before adding,

"But you know I'll be down in the rubble helping you rebuild if it does."

"I know. You've given me excellent advice Sam. But sometimes what is expedient and what is moral are two different things. Whatever happens, know that I appreciate every single thing you have done and continue to do for us. We would never have made it if you hadn't been part of this. It's partly your legacy as well, dear one." She smiled and looked out the window.

"What the hell, if worse comes to worse, we can always sell the property for a strip mall or office buildings, right?"

"Yeah, just what this community needs...another tanning salon and pizza joint." He laughed and Cathilynn joined him.

"But just to be on the safe side, I'm going to go home and make sure my property taxes are paid up...just in case." Sam laughed heartily and Cathilynn looked at him.

"I don't suppose you have a spare bedroom you'd be willing to rent out to an old friend?"


The next day in the Home dining room…

Janet shook her head and squeezed Drea’s hand.

“So that’s it? There’s nothing more to be done?” Janet choked back a sob.

“It’s okay, really. Hell, I’m seventy-two next month. Dr. Simon gives me three years at the outside; a sesquicentennial celebration to look forward to, yes, since I've lived enough for two lifetimes? I have had a great life…blessed with three wonderful marriages; a beautiful daughter and two lovely step-daughters and two terrific grandsons. I’ve no complaints.” Drea smiled and Bella leaned on her shoulder, squeezing her other hand.

“And what was it you said, my dear?” Drea turned to Bella who laughed softly.

“I said that my fiftieth class reunion is next week, and I bet I’ll be the only woman there who is escorted by a beautiful wife.”

“So, tell me what your good news is.” Drea looked at Janet, hoping that she was able to let go. They had known each other since Drea dated and then married Janet’s sister Toni.

“Cal is taking me out to dinner tonight.” She smiled with an air of pride like nothing either Drea or Bella had seen.

“Every night this week, right?” Drea looked at Janet and smiled.

“He’s going to return to the city to finalize his move, but he hasn’t told me what his plans are after that.” She sighed, and her expression failed to hide her obvious frustration. Bella reached across the table and patted Janet’s wrist.

“Sounds like you have it bad, sweetie.” Bella smiled and patted her wrist once again.

“I can safely say that in all the years I’ve know Janet, I don’t recall her every having It bad for anyone.” Drea laughed softly. She turned to face Janet and noticed a grin on her face.

“What?” Drea raised an eyebrow and cocked her head slightly.

“Well, I can say that I’ve never ever felt anything like I feel for Cal.” She couldn’t believe she was so quick to admit it, but at sixty-five, she could ill afford to be coy.

“But when I was a kid, I had a crush. It was so hard, because I saw him every day for like…forever.” She chuckled softly and looked right at Drea.

“You can’t believe how much I used to dream about you when Toni first started dating you.

“I can see why you would,” Bella smiled up at Drea.

“Well, I’m glad at least we’ve been friends all this time. It’s been a great life, honey, and you have been no small part of it, no matter who and what we’ve both become after all these years.” Drea began to tear up, causing Janet to do the same. Bella quickly changed the subject back to the evening at hand.

“Where are you going? You’re running out of options, aren’t you?” She asked.

“He hasn’t told me yet, but he said he has some things to talk about, including ‘us’.” She looked away and her eyes filled with tears. “Can you believe that, he actually said ‘us?’ I don’t know…. I’m not used to this type of relationship. He’s completely open about himself…his fears, his hopes…you know? We talk about everything. And he’ll e-mail me only minutes after he gets back to his hotel even though we’ve talked all evening.

Bella smiled but said nothing. Drea patted her once again on the wrist.

“Well, keep us posted.” The three got up and Bella hugged Janet.

“He’s a wonderful man, sweetie. I so hope it works out for you.”
“I think that for the first time in my life, I hope it works out as well.”


That afternoon in the Home business office…

"No, I don’t think we can. It'll cost too much and we can't afford the expense."

Billie looked as Beth went through the brochure one more time. A big 'wedding' wouldn't do for their budget. They had no family to speak of. Beth's mother had left when she was eleven, and Beth, rather her male counterpart, had been raised by her dad. He had been entirely supportive of her decision to go ahead and have the surgery after he saw how much of a daughter his son actually had been all along. He lived long enough to see his daughter safely through her first year of transition before succumbing to cancer at forty-seven. Her mother had been estranged for years, and had only recently begun to ignore her phone calls, as she liked to put it.

Billie's parents refused to acknowledge her at all. At twenty-seven, she was three years past her surgery, and her father still called her William, more as a pointed way of expressing his disapproval for her decision. Her mother deferred to her father in everything except one; she called her child Billie, but still remained unable to embrace her, either physically or emotionally. So neither bride would be having any family attend what proved already to be an expensive proposition.

Beth looked once more at the brochure. A trip to Cancun this time of the year was almost prohibitive to begin with, and with neither girl having much in the way of resources, it looked like a weekend honeymoon was all they could afford.

"We can save up and go next year for the anniversary, okay honey?" Beth wasn't trying to control the situation. If anything, she had ceded much of the responsibility for planning to Billie, and was happy to support her fiancé' in every way. But she was also more pragmatic, even if it was borne originally out of fear and insecurity. They just couldn't afford a big trip.

"Okay...it's not the trip that's important, anyway, right?" Billie blinked out some tears and forced a smile.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry. Maybe we can put it on my VISA, and pay it off on time. I'll check with the bank and see if I can extend my line of credit." Beth didn't hold out any hope of that happening, but she wanted Billie to know that it was just as important to her.

"No, that's okay. We can't really afford to go any further into debt. Next year is okay, because I've got two things to look forward to." Billie smiled and squeezed Beth's wrist.

"Two things?" Beth looked at her, puzzled.

"Yeah. First, I get to go to Cancun." Beth nodded but asked,

"What's the second?"

"I get to go with you, honey." Billie smiled once again. She leaned forward and kissed Beth. She would have loved to have taken it further but a soft, “Ahem" came from behind.

"Oh… Sandra." The two said almost in unison. Billie stood straight while Beth swiveled in her chair to face Sandra. They might be two different and entirely unique girls, but they resembled twins in that both complexions turned the same shade of red.

"This came for you...both of you actually," Sandra said as she handed Billie a FedEx envelope addressed to Beth Davidson and Billie Penn.

"What?" Beth said as Billie showed her the envelope.

“Here…Open it.” Billie handed her the envelope, and watched as she pulled out a smaller letter sized envelope with their names written in script. She slipped her finger under the flap and popped it open.

“Dearest Elizabeth and Wilhelmina, You are both cordially invited to stop working immediately and join us in the dining room for a party in your honor. Attire is whatever you happen to have put on this morning, although you are free to change into ball gowns if you have them available. We’re waiting, dear ones. Much love!”

The two looked up to see that Sandra had left the room. On the open door of the office, a large sign had been taped, reading “THIS WAY!” with an arrow pointing in the direction of the dining room... Beth got up from the chair and the two slowly walked down the hall, almost tip-toeing in anticipation. As they reached the French doors leading to the dining room, they could hear mariachi music emanating from within. A sign had been taped over the door that read,

Bienvenido a la hermosa novias (Welcome to the beautiful brides).

Beth knew Spanish and translated for Billie, who immediately began to cry. She fell into her lover’s arms and wept. It was the most special thing anyone had ever done for her, and it was only the beginning.

“Billie…Honey…look at this.” Beth pulled another envelope off the door. In it she found two round trip tickets to Cancun and a hotel voucher. Billie took a quick look at the tickets and once again started to cry, and was quickly joined by her fiancé. On the other side of the door, Cathilynn turned to Sandra and smiled.

“I think they found the envelope,” she said with a soft laugh before taking a sip of punch.

“Yes…I think they did.” Sandra smiled and touched her glass of punch to Cathilynn’s.

“Yes!”


Cathilynn's office the following afternoon…

“You are not going to believe this.” Sam looked at Cathilynn and Irene and shrugged his shoulders.

“Emma’s parents are fine with her, in a manner of speaking,” He chuckled and shook his head.

“The mayor and his wife have been out of town; he’s in rehab for pain pills and she’s staying at the hotel in town to support him. The kid has been staying with the wife’s sister while the younger sister has been staying with friends. Mom’s sister’s son has been beating Emma up on a regular basis and had been threatening to hurt her younger sister if she talks.”

“Holy shit,” Irene said. Not one normally given to expletives, so to speak, she felt compelled to take it a bit further.

"Son of a bitch!" She looked at Sam as if he had two heads. He looked back and smiled.

“Dad isn’t due out of the program for another six weeks. Mom is going to be traveling back and forth for the time being and asked if we’d keep an eye on Emma while they get healthy. Her daughter is going to stay with her at the hotel. Mom has been attending the groups at the facility, and things seem to be getting better.” Sam looked relieved but added,

“They want someone to work with her until they get home, and maybe beyond that. To keep things consistent. This works for everybody.”

“What about the cousin?” Cathilynn asked, her eyebrow arching in surprise.

“He’s been arraigned on a variety of charges. The kicker is…and this will absolutely kill you…. He’s not beating the kid up for being TG. He has an anger problem due to some stuff that has never been diagnosed, and the court and both families believe everyone would be better off if he got treatment in an inpatient program at the state capitol. Go figure!”

“Son of a bitch!” Irene said again, this time with a soft laugh.

“I know just who Emma can stay with, and I know just who can work with her.”

“Yeppers,” Irene said with a smile. I was just thinking the same thing, especially with the changes that are going to happen around here.

“I know this is the best place for her, and not just because the Home is my baby, you know?” Cathilynn smiled, and beamed with pride.

“We’ve got the best folks working here, and I think we’re going to see even more support for the Home come out of this, you know? Now I just have to figure out how it all will fit together.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Irene looked at Sam who looked at Cathilynn. All three nodded and smiled.


The Home dining room that evening…

“So you’re going to move?” Janet was nervous about the answer. In the week after Cal arrived, the Home had literally been turned upside down by the events of new romance, new friends, and one scared girl. What would Cal; say. It had been decades since she felt this way about anyone, but she was overwhelmed by the ghosts of the past and feared disappointment.

“Oh, yes. As a matter of fact, I’ve already bought a new place.” He smiled warmly.

“And….where…where would that be?” Janet asked timidly, almost like a child fearing a punishment.

“Are you serious? Why here in town, of course.” He patted her on the hand as she looked away.

“Janet? Janet, dear one?” She turned to find Cal staring at her. He patted her wrist once again and spoke.

“Cathilynn has asked me to come on board, so to speak. I’m to work in the hospice with you.”

“Wha…what?” Janet’s eyes widened, more out of surprise, but a warm feeling overcame her and she began to blush.

“I’m going to work with you at the hospice. Isn’t that grand?” He smiled before chuckling softly.

“I find it ironic that I came here for a few weeks to get away from work and here I will stay.” He smiled and patted her wrist yet again.

“No? What?” Janet looked into his eyes, noting that they had begun to tear up. “Are you going to…to run the program?” She swallowed a mouthful of coffee and cringed, fearing what she might hear.

“Actually…no, I’m not….I am looking forward to working with you, however. We should make a beautiful team. I’m coming out of retirement to return to nursing.” He laughed softly.

“Oh…I see.” She really didn’t see but it was about to become clear. Cathilynn knocked on the door frame and leaned in.

“Oh great! Just the folks we need to see.” She turned and motioned to someone in the hallway. A moment later, Drea and Irene and Kerry walked into the dining room. All four pulled up chairs and sat down.

“Drea has decided to step down as the director of the hospice.” Cathilynn said and Janet gasped.

“Oh, don’t worry, sweetie, I’m not going anywhere. Bea has decided to move to San Francisco to be closer to family, so I’m going to take her position as child psychologist. Just a sideways move.” She smiled and Janet looked relieved, if a little puzzled.

“Who’s going to be director? Cal tells me he’s coming on board as a nurse here.” She looked at Cathilynn who smiled and looked over to Irene, who said,

“Well, you’ve finished your degree, and I understand you’ve submitted all of your paperwork to the Academy for Grief Counseling for certification, so I guess you’d be the one?” She laughed softly as Cathilynn nodded.

“That is, if you want the position.”

“We want you to move into the new staff cottage that just opened up. If that’s okay with you,” Kerry said.

“Oh, gosh yes….it’s….” wonderful!” Janet was never one to care about position or status, but this was different. She felt like she had finally gotten to the place where she could actually feel good about herself.

“We’ve got one more favor to ask, if you don’t mind?” Irene smiled again; she was already confident that Janet would say yes.

“Emma’s parents are going to be in California along with her kid sister. They’re working hard in his re-hab program, and getting couples counseling, so they’ve asked if someone would be kind enough to keep an eye on Emma until they return in six weeks. You don’t know anyone who’d be willing to take that on, do you?”

“Oh gosh, yes….yes and yes.” Janet looked around the table and saw everyone smiling. It had been a great day, and the emotion of the moment overwhelmed her. She began to weep, more out of joy and relief than at any other time in her life. A welcome but surprising comfort came as Cal pulled her in and hugged her. She buried her face in his sweater and held onto him by gripping his sleeves.

“Well, looks like we’re both having a great day.” Cal said and kissed her. Her first kiss in ages and the only meaningful kiss she had ever had in her life. She kissed back, her tears streaming down her cheeks as she laughed and cried at the same time. A split-second later she pulled back, realizing they were not alone.

“Oh gosh, don’t mind us,” Kerry said with a laugh. “Come on, folks…let’s give these two lovebirds some privacy. Cal looked at them and smiled.

“That sounds like a splendid idea. Thank you.” He didn’t wait for an answer and kissed Janet once again.

“A splendid idea, indeed!”


The side lawn of the Home the following Saturday…

You've got the
Look of love, it's on your face
A look that time can't erase
Be mine tonight, let this be just
the start of so many nights like this
Let's take a lover's vow and then
seal it with a kiss

Billie and Beth stood side by side, holding hands with heads bowed as the congregation of friends and family stood on the stage and placed their hands on them in prayer. Leading the prayers were Connie and Paulette, their matrons of honor.

‘Dear God, thank you for new beginnings and second chances. Please bless our friends with long life and happiness in peace,” Paulette said. A moment later, Connie took a breath and added.

“May they have your joy, your contentment, your faithfulness to each other and may they be as happy as Paulette and I are.” Sandra choked back a sob as the two stood in front of the minister once again. They exchanged vows and rings before the minister pronounced the happy couple’s union one of blessing and example. She then closed the ceremony in prayer

“Dear God, we thank you for this couple and we vow before you and pray with our own understanding and acceptance of your heart to love them and support them and encourage them May you bless them and bless this place and the people therein that have been so much of these young ladies’ lives….May the blessings of this place carry beyond its walls and borders to help them live and be blessed in their own Home that love will build. Amen.”

I can hardly wait to hold you, feel my arms around you
How long I have waited
Waited just to love you, now that I have found you
Don't ever go
Don't ever go

You can read more about Candace McGuire in A Chesapeake Romance...

http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/27014/chesapeake-roman...



Once again I would like to thank Catherine Linda Michel for allowing me to contribute my heart and my talent to this wonderful series. I have enjoyed every bit of the process. I’d like to thank all of the other authors who have contributed to this series as well. It is my fondest hope to see Catherine’s dream of this Home come true. And it is even more a dream of mine and I expect yours as well that someday a home like this will no longer be needed as people everywhere open their hearts in welcome. Thanks for reading.



The Prayer
Words and Music by
Carole Bayer Sager, David Foster, David Walter Foster
as performed by Celine Dion and Josh Groban
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ogVQVnJ8Fpk

I'll Love You Forever
by Robert Munsch
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6z-oBkgJ4Ow

These Are the Days
As Performed by Natalie Merchant
Words and Music by Natalie Merchant
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b3NIMz8EtwY

Maybe You'll Be There

As Performed by Diana Krall
Words and Music by
Sammy Gallop and Rube Bloom
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jOVBqHBIRM0

See Here, She Said
Words and Music by Kate Wolf
1942 — 1986

Let's Fall in Love
Words and Music by
Ted Koehler and Harold Arlen
as performed by Diana Krall
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fvtaOJZWwWQ

Gentle Rain
Words and Music by
Matt Dubay and Louis Bonfa
As Performed by
Lark and Spur
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f0jOyC_O0ZI

The Look of Love
Words and Music by
Burt Bacharach and Hal David
as performed by Diana Krall
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yr8xDSPjII8

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Comments

Thank you 'Drea.

Thank you for another look at the heart warming story of the House that
Love Built,written with your usual warmth,empathy and feeling.

ALISON