CHAPTER 9

The next morning – Metro Hospital (Mental Health Unit)

Shortly after 7:00 a.m., Megan Phillips made her way from the adjacent employee parking garage to her office on the fifth floor of Metro Hospital’s Mental Health Unit. Megan enjoyed Saturday mornings when she was on the weekend daytime schedule. Incoming traffic to the hospital was light, her schedule was usually light or even nonexistent, and the pace of the hospital was far less intense. Her hospital office, a light and airy space, became a home away from home on most Saturdays.

Today was no exception. Originally, there was only one patient on the schedule besides Kyle Britton, and that person had unfortunately suffered a fatal seizure during the night. Megan would be free to handle only Kyle and anything else that might happen during the daytime hours today. This time of year, “anything else” during the day was rare – it was nighttime when things seemed to happen.

Coming into her office, she turned on a small lamp to supplement the ample light coming in from the window. Sitting down, she bowed her head and said, “Lord, please let me to fulfill Your purpose for my life today. Help me to help my patients. Provide me with the wisdom that I’ll need to accomplish this. Thank you for my life, Lord. Just be with me in everything that I do today. Amen.” Megan began each day with a variation of that prayer. Many times, she would even name her patients and ask for help for difficulties that she or the patient had.

Four years earlier, Megan went through a crisis where, in a downturn, she questioned why that she has chosen Psychiatry as her life’s work. Just after accepting Christ, a particularly brutal suicide occurred. She felt that she could have helped to prevent had she been able to counsel the patient. As part of the funeral, the minister explained God in a way that she never realized or contemplated. A week later, she met with the minister and after two hours, found herself kneeling and praying with him. She would never again question her choice of vocation nor her faith.

Grabbing her IPad and stylus, she headed for the stairway. The isolation unit where Kyle was currently housed was two floors up on the seventh floor, and Megan didn’t miss an opportunity to use the stairs, which she laughingly called “my concrete Stairmaster”. Besides her running, the stairs acted as an at-work stress reliever. Several times, the staff had caught Dr. Phillips running up and down the stairs between the first and seventh floors if a particular case had stressed or stymied her.

From the stairwell, Megan walked quickly to the “nurse’s station” for the isolation unit. Stacy Kerns, one of Megan’s favorite co-workers was covering the desk.

“Good morning, Stacy!”

“Good morning to you, Dr. Phillips! Ooh, I like your outfit!” To Megan, this was a surprise. At five feet nine, even with her half Cherokee heritage and wavy shoulder-blade length almost black hair, she hardly considered herself pretty. In fact, with her round circular glasses, she considered herself rather like a tall “nerd”. This day’s outfit of a fitted long sleeve polo, skinny jeans, and knee-high boots zipped over her jeans did emphasize her feminine looks, though.

The two exchanged small talk for a few minutes, then Megan asked about Kyle Britton.

“I’ve checked on him several times since I came on at midnight. He slept like a baby. I guess the meds really knocked him out. I woke him up about an hour ago, and asked if he was hungry. He was, so I brought him some breakfast. Since then, he’s just been sitting quietly in his room.” (Stacy referred to Kyle with male pronouns since according to all of the medical records, Kyle was male.) Kyle was given strong medication to sleep due to the physical and emotional trauma of the night before.

“Why don’t we bring him to Interview Room 1 and I’ll talk to him. Thanks for keeping an eye on him, Stacy.” Kyle’s story so far - a suicide attempt plus watching your Mom laying unconsciously on the floor – led Megan to think “I hope you’re strong”.

Megan proceeded to the stark Interview room. It was specifically designed to keep patients and staff safe during therapy sessions early in a patient’s stay. All of the walls were padded, the floor had a thick carpet, and there were no furnishings in it that had sharp edges, or could be used as a weapon for self-injury or an attack on others.

Within a few minutes, Kyle was brought in. Megan was almost taken aback by Kyle’s appearance. At five foot six, he looked even more like an androgynous girl than the pictures taken the day before. Even with the lack of curves, Kyle’s hair, facial, and other features screamed girl. The only thing that detracted from her attractiveness was the large bandage on her arm that covered her injury.

“Hi, Kyle. I’m Megan.” Megan had pronounced the name as if it rhymed with Nile.

“It’s Ky-lee. And I thought I was seeing Dr. Phillips.” Kyle was not smiling. Whoa, still mad I see, thought Megan. The voice matched her appearance, too. This is one of the most feminine males that I’ve ever seen, Megan quickly realized.

“Dr. Phillips is too formal for me. I’m not one to set myself on a pedestal, Kyle. (Megan began to pronounce it Ky-lee.) Why don’t you have a seat and we’ll get started.”

“When can I see my Mom?”

“If everything goes OK and we figure out why you cut yourself, you can see her here tomorrow night and go home mid-week. We’re only going to keep you long enough to make sure that you won’t be back here again in a week.”

“OK. I guess that I made a big mistake, huh?” Kyle pointed down at the large bandage wrapping her arm.

“Yeah, you did. But I did, too, when I was your age, too.” Megan rolled up the sleeve of her long-sleeve polo shirt and pointed to the scars left from long ago.

“You tried to kill yourself, too?”

“Yep. I was a girl and my dad didn’t understand. He kept telling me that I was boy and I knew better.”

“You’re trans?”

“Yes, I am. But I think of myself as a just a woman.”

“Just like me.”

“Yes. I had special people to help me after I ended up here, and I’m going to help you. I didn’t ever cut myself again, and I don’t want you to ever do anything else to hurt yourself, either.”

Kyle’s tears began to freely flow, and Megan left her chair to hug her. Since Megan was three inches taller than Kyle, their shoulders met at the same height since Megan’s knees were on the floor. The ice had quickly broken. This was absolutely, positively, not a boy, Megan told herself, even down to the feminine lilt of her voice. This is a girl and the psychiatrist would treat her as one from here on.

They continued to hug for several minutes. When Kyle had calmed down, Megan said, “OK. Let’s start at the very beginning. Tell me everything about your life. Then we’ll move on to everything that happened yesterday. We have a lot of time – we’ll take as long as we need. You want some water?”

Kyle nodded. Megan left the room for a couple of minutes to retrieve a plastic bottle of water. The psychiatrist decided that it was going to be a long morning, so she retrieved two each for herself and Kyle.

Megan returned to a fully composed Kyle, so she decided to plunge in.

“Tell me a little bit about why that you wanted to end your life.”

Kyle sniffed for a second, but quickly recovered. “I just couldn’t live any more. I mean, Dad always thought I was a boy, but everyone at school and even my Mom treated me as a girl. When Mom and Dad started arguing again about me, I just kinda flipped out.”

“What did your Dad do to you? Did he yell at you, or beat you, or what?”

“He yelled at me all the time, then every couple of weeks, he’d come in drunk from the bar and beat me.”

“Did he tell you why he was beating you?

“He kept yelling at me, “I’m gonna make a man out of you sometime”, and “You’re just a goddam fag, that’s what you are, and I’m gonna beat it out of you.”

“Did he hit you with his hand, or a belt, or something else?”

“His belt, his hand, and his fists.”

Megan cringed. If she could corroborate the stories between Kyle and Brenda, she could have child abuse charges added to Jerry’s criminal charges. In any case, this girl had been through a lot of trauma over a long period of time.

“Let’s change things up a bit. Tell me about what happened last night, with all of the details. Don’t leave anything out.”

Kyle told the story of being over at Jessica’s house, going home, and then encountering her dad. Bursting into tears, she also told of pushing her chest against the door, finding the knife and cutting herself. Megan carefully trod over the details, lest she make Kyle replay events over and over again.

Finally, Megan told of pushing the chest out of the way in order to get out of her room, hearing her Dad leave, then finding her Mother unconscious in the kitchen following Jerry’s beating.

The interchange about just this part of Kyle’s story took almost an hour. But Kyle was a one strong girl, Megan concluded. Instead of stopping at this point, the doctor decided that it was worthwhile to go on. She wanted to find out how long that Kyle and her mother had been suffering abuse at Jerry’s hand. She also wanted to find out how Kyle “knew” that she was a girl. The answers that she received on this latter point were intriguing.

“So you always knew that you were a girl.”

“Yeah. I never thought that I was a boy for a second in my whole life.”

“I mean, to be treated as a boy by your Dad, then knowing you’re a girl, that must have been hard.”

“Mom always told me that I was a special girl.”

“So you went to school every day, knowing that you were a girl, but dressed in boys’ clothes?

“Up until the last year or so. Everybody just thought that I was a tomboy or somethin’”.

“Was everyone OK with that? Did anyone tease you?”

“Well, some of the guys teased me, calling me a dyke and butch and things like that. I knew that I wasn’t one of those, so I didn’t let it bother me. Besides, the girls treated me like any other girl. I have lots of friends.”

“You must have wanted desperately to be like your friends, though, to dress in dresses and skirts and other things that would make you more of a girl.”

“Mom bought things like that and hid them in the house. She’s let me wear them in the house after school when we knew Dad wasn’t gonna be around. And my BFF, Jessica, let me wear her clothes when I was over at her house. We’ve spent a lot of time together the last couple of years.”

Kyle went on to explain the relationship between Jessica and herself, and how the White home had become an escape.

Finally, Megan brought up the inevitable.

“You know that your Dad is going to face serious charges for what he did to your Mom. And if your Mom agrees with your stories, he might be facing charges for what he’s done to you.”

Kyle answered almost unemotionally. “I know.”

“Are you going to be able to cope with losing him? I mean, you and your Mom will probably have to move…”

Kyle interrupted, “And my Mom will divorce him.”

Megan thought to herself, you’ve done a lot of thinking about this. What else are you not telling me?

“Are you OK with that?”

“I’m more than ready to have him gone. I HATE him now.” Kyle began to cry and Megan moved closer to hug her tightly.”

“I know, honey.”

After Kyle quit crying, the two talked on for another hour. It was almost 10:00 before they finished their morning session.

Megan told Kyle, “Look, I’ll be back this afternoon and we’ll talk some more. In the meantime, I want to think about how you reacted last night. We’re going to work on some ways so that you won’t get to the point where you want to end your life ever again.”

Kyle admitted, “I just made a mistake. A big one.”

Megan reacted more strongly to that statement than she had all morning. “No, that wasn’t a mistake. Don’t ever, ever, ever think that again. You reacted to something that was happening. You might have reacted wrong, but we can teach you to react differently.” Pausing, she continued, “I’m going to make some notes now and think about what we’ve talked about. Then I’ll be back around 2:00 or 2:30 and we’ll spend some more time together. Just rest and relax if you can. You’ve had a lot happen over the last two days, and we’ve both talked about a lot of things.”

Megan stood and hugged the teen, and then the two held each other for a few seconds.

“Thank you!” Kyle whispered to her.

Megan answered, “I’ll see you quicker than you think!”

The attendant came to take Kyle back to her room, and as they left the area, Megan waved to her. Then she quickly headed to her office. She was in desperate need of a mental recharge and to spend some time compiling her notes.

CHAPTER 10

The Britton home, Saturday morning

As the clock turned to the 9:00 hour, Brenda Britton continued to slumber in hers and Jerry’s bed. Jerry had stayed out all night, too ashamed of his actions to show up. The police were also making regular patrols by their home since a felony assault warrant had been issued against Jerry. In one of Brenda’s more lucid times (before falling asleep again), she wondered if he would ever be back. She wondered what would happen to him once he was caught, jailed, and convicted.

Brenda had already made up her mind. This was it. Later today, she would call a locksmith and have the locks changed. Between now and Monday, she was calling some of her divorced friends for a recommendation regarding a divorce lawyer. And she would file for a protective order for her and Kyle.

For now, though, she just wanted to enjoy her rest. However, it would be short-lived.

A parking lot behind an all-night liquor store in the metro area

After beating Brenda Britton, Jerry Britton needed to forget his latest mistake. He was a weakling – he always knew that – and unfortunately, his wife and child caught the brunt of his vain attempts to disprove the fact.

Now he had to hide out. He had never knocked his wife unconscious before, and Jerry correctly assumed that the cops were going to be after him. It was time to make up his mind. He could run, or he could go back and finish off what he started. He had some friends in Mexico. I could contact them and maybe they’ll put me up for a while, he decided. The .357 that he kept in hidden in the truck would be more than enough to handle the job of getting rid of Brenda.

Jerry could grab the boy and raise him to be a man without interference of school psychologists and his sympathetic mother. Maybe if he realized that there wouldn’t be a Mom to go home to, he might straighten up and quit acting like a damn fag, Jerry surmised. Right now, he just wanted to try to forget the task that was ahead of him.

Visiting his favorite liquor store, he managed to procure more than enough to fuel his need for an all-night “bender” plus some for the trip to Mexico. Finding a parking space in a public area behind the store that was seldom visited by the cops, he settled in to spend the night in his truck. He only wanted to forget everything for one more night.

By the time the sun rose the next morning, the need for a bathroom break interrupted Jerry’s rest and only served to awaken him to a raging headache. After finding an adjacent grassy area that was thick with trees, he relieved himself and considered his next move. After taking several more swigs from the bottle of Jack Daniels that lay in the seat beside him, Jerry formulated his plan. Although more sober than the evening before, he was slightly inebriated and still considered himself impervious to any police action.

Using his pistol, he would take Brenda’s life and dump her body in a remote hunting area where he had year-round access. He would make sure that the body was never found. In a lake close by, he would dump the weapon. By using a pillow to muffle the gun’s noise, the deed could be done with little noise. Fortunately, the Britton home didn’t have a fence on one side, so he could drive through to the back yard, making it easy to load her body. At the same time, he could bind and gag his son in the back seat. There was blackout tinting on both rear seat windows, making it impossible for anyone to see Kyle once the boy was secured back there.

Realizing that he was probably being sought by the police, Jerry carefully drove to the Britton home to avoid the suspicion of any officers. Shortly after 10:00, he arrived there and instead of parking the truck in the driveway, carefully drove it around the side of the house into backyard.

The Britton Home, Saturday morning, 10:05 a.m.

Fumbling with his keys, Jerry made it around to the front door of the house with his weapon carefully hidden, but still being gripped by his hand. With the loud thump of his footsteps on the porch and the noise of the key entering the lock, Brenda heard him. By the time that Jerry made it upstairs to the bedroom, Brenda was sitting up and was fully awake. Sensing that it was Jerry, she became alarmed, but it was too late as the cordless headset for the house landline phone was across the room on her chest of drawers.

Before she could think what to do, Jerry had trudged up the stairs and come into the bedroom. Brenda smiled at him, but she could tell that Jerry was angrier than she had ever seen him.

“Where’s Kyle?” Jerry demanded.

Spotting the gun in his hand, Brenda began shaking. “He’s still in the hospital. He cut himself badly while you were beating me up, and the ambulance people thought that he was trying to commit suicide. So they kept him in the mental hospital.”

“Doesn’t matter anyway. I can get him later. It’s time to end this charade and raise him right. The only way that I can do that is to take care of you.”

As Brenda’s eyes widened, Jerry grabbed his pillow from the bed to use as a makeshift silencer. Then he aimed the gun straight at her, and fired twice. In spite of being inebriated, his aim was amazingly accurate. The bullets struck Brenda in the abdomen and heart, stopping the latter immediately. Fatally wounded, Brenda fell back helplessly onto her pillow.

Jerry ran downstairs, hoping to escape and retrieve Kyle from the hospital. Maybe I can make it to Mexico before they find me, Jerry thought. But his plan was shattered before he even reached the front door.

About thirty seconds before the shots, a police car on patrol had rounded a corner a few houses away from the Britton home. Jerry’s choice of a parking place was unfortunate, for the truck was taller than the privacy fence. The policeman spotted it immediately, and calling for backup, closed in on the home.

The officer quickly drove into the driveway, leaped from his car and ran toward the front door. Hearing the muffled shots from upstairs, he paused. Quietly turning the doorknob, he found it unlocked, and with a single motion, flung the door open.

Directly on the other side of the door was Jerry, gun at his side. Obviously surprised by the door opening, Jerry stopped just inside the house at the bottom of the stairs. Though surprised, Jerry raised his weapon as the officer began to speak.

“Mr. Britton, we know about what you did yesterday. Just lower your weapon and we can talk this over.”

“I’m not doin’ any such thing. I wanted my son, and now he’s away in some mental hospital like a crazy person. All I wanted was him, and now you’re tellin’ me I did somethin’ wrong by beatin’ up my wife yesterday. It was all her fault, anyway, turnin’ my son into a girl or somethin’. No, I’m not givin’ up now.

As the backup officer arrived, Jerry panicked. He knew that he was facing a mandatory life sentence without parole once the officers found Brenda upstairs. Death would be preferable. In a second of clarity, he decided to shoot toward the officer but not directly at him. Jerry was lucid enough to realize that police protocol would mean that the officer would be shooting to kill him. As usual, he was thinking only of himself, not realizing that any fatal shooting can sometimes result in lifelong mental issues for the officer.

Jerry fired over the officer’s left shoulder, and true to his wishes, the officer fired back twice, hitting Jerry in the heart and chest. He bled out quickly. Like Brenda, he stood no chance at living. Fortunately, the officer was shaken, but otherwise OK. Before noon, the Britton home was surrounded by yellow crime scene tape. The persons responsible for cleaning crime scenes had been contacted to take care of the blood stains on the porch and in the bedroom. Both victims had been taken to the Medical Examiner for autopsies.

Kyle didn’t yet know that she was an orphan. The only other relative of Kyle’s, an aunt, was dying of cancer in a Nebraska hospital. The task of telling Kyle about all of this morning’s events was to fall on Megan Phillips.

Seventh floor, Metro Hospital Mental Health Unit, Saturday, 11:00 a.m.

Megan was emotionally tired after her long session with Kyle. After Kyle was taken back to her room, she wanted nothing more than just to stare at the four walls in her office for thirty minutes. Returning there, she plopped down in her chair and removed her glasses. After leaning back and shutting her eyes for a few minutes, she put her glasses back on and began to review her notes.

Kyle turned out to one of the most serious, yet enchanting, persons that she had encountered in her eight years of practice. There was absolutely, positively no doubt that she was a girl, through and through. It was unfortunate that life events forced her hand in such a dramatic way, Megan reflected.

The respite was short-lived. Her cell phone rang, and from the caller identification, Megan recognized that it was Terry Weston.

Answering the phone, she playfully said, “Yeah, whadda ya want?”

Weston was dead serious. “Megan, we have a problem. Have you seen, let’s see, what’s his name”.

“Kyle. It’s a she. I’ve been with her all morning.

“Isn’t she an only child?”

Megan hurriedly opened the chart. “Yeah, no brothers or sisters. Just Mom and Dad and Kyle. Her grandparents are dead and there’s only one aunt listed. Oh, and Kyle mentioned to me that she’s terminal with cancer.” What is this leading to, Megan wondered.

“Well, the three became one this morning. Dad shot Mom, then Dad committed suicide-by-cop.”

Megan’s face suddenly turned white. “My God, what more can happen to her?”

“Looks like we may have her longer than just a few days. But here’s the whole thing, as the police shared with me.” Terry went on to describe the entire chain of events.

“This is gonna be tough, sir.” Megan felt a lump coming up in her throat.

“Vaya con Dios, Megan. Call me if I can do anything for you.”

“Thanks, Terry!”

Megan hung up her phone, then pounded her desk with her fist a couple of times. This was the first time since Matt’s death that she was directly affected by a death by firearm. Her own grief was doubled with the knowledge that she would have to help a patient to get through it, as well.

Kyle was now going to be in the same situation as Megan herself had experienced after one semester of college. She would be completely alone in the world, albeit at a younger age. Megan was fortunate to have had encountered Susie immediately after her parents’ rejection. Kyle would need help from her friends, as well as psychiatric care, for her grief. Because of the situation, Megan began to feel a bond with Kyle. There were huge differences in their upbringing, but somehow in some undefined fashion, they were very much alike.

Even though there weren’t any newspapers or television allowed in the unit where Kyle was currently housed, even loose talk by the staff about such a dramatic news event might leak to Kyle. Therefore, it was essential that she be told as soon as possible.

Megan needed to pray. How the next few hours were handled would determine Kyle’s direction in her young life. Handle it badly, and Kyle might be depressed and withdrawn for the rest of her life. Handle it well, and she could become a well-adjusted person able to handle her transition with ease.

She bowed her head and opened her heart. She told God how much she wanted to help Kyle through this tragedy. Admitting that she didn’t have the words in her head, she asked for help to form the right words in the right way. Finally, Megan prayed directly for Kyle, that she could weather the storm and become the best person that she could be.

The prayer helped to calm Megan. Megan opened Kyle’s file on the computer and began to make notes. There would need to be a plan in place before a young person could be given such news. It needed to be done as quickly as possible, as even loose talk by the staff about such a dramatic news event might leak to Kyle.

In this case, Megan decided, Kyle needed to be told in a straight, no-nonsense fashion, but with a lot of love and support. The teen would need to know deep in her heart that she wasn’t abandoned. It would be essential that any temporary foster home (after her visit at the Mental Health Unit was over) be a loving environment.

It would be lunchtime before Megan was ready to see Kyle. She elected to chew on a protein bar before leaving her office, fearing that an upset stomach in the middle of dealing with her patient. Then after another prayer, it was time to face the maelstrom.

CHAPTER 11

Seventh floor, Metro Hospital Mental Health Unit, Saturday 1:00 p.m.

Kyle’s restrictions had been loosened somewhat as a result of the morning, so when Megan arrived, she found her on a couch in the unit’s common area calmly reading a well-worn magazine.

Megan greeted her with a smile, even though underneath she was shaking.

“Hi, Kyle, how are you?”

“I’m OK. Just a little tired after this morning.”

“Why don’t we go to an office? There’s one with a window right over here”, pointing to an office with an exterior window located less than thirty feet away. Unlike the place where the two had met earlier in the day, this one was painted in a subdued blue color, but was still devoid of pictures or other decoration. There was a large couch there, along with two other straight back chairs. That’s all we need, Megan reflected. That, and a door for privacy. In case that Kyle reacted loudly, Megan wanted to have a place where Kyle could vent without disturbing everyone.

Kyle strode in first, followed closely by Megan, who shut the door behind them. Silently praying, Megan sat down next to Kyle on the couch facing her but staying very close. Taking Kyle’s hand, she looked straight into the teen’s eyes.

Kyle knew that something had happened, or was going to happen. Having been the victim of abuse, and witnessing abuse of her mother, she was extraordinarily sensitive to atmosphere. Something’s not adding up, she told herself when Megan sat down next to her rather than across the room. Megan’s demeanor was somber compared to the morning session, as well.

Haltingly, Megan said, “I wish this was simple, Kyle. I have some terrible news for you, and I don’t know any of other way except to tell you without any sugar coating.” Megan took a deep breath and continued. “You know that your Dad left last night after chasing after you and beating up you Mom.”

Kyle gave Megan a quizzical look and nodded her head.

“This morning, your Dad came back home and confronted your Mom with a gun. Your Dad began yelling and then without warning, he shot your Mom. He tried to escape, but the police arrived just as he was walking out of the door. He said a few words to the officer, then pointed the gun toward him and fired. The policeman shot him and he died, as well.” Megan paused a moment to let her words sink in, but Kyle was quicker than she expected, and she silently began to turn white. But the psychiatrist still had to sum up what her patient already knew. “What I’m trying to say is, your Mom and Dad are both dead.”

Kyle sat staring and emotionless for a few more seconds, then burst into tears. Megan let go of her hands so that Kyle could cover her face. Then she spread her arms wide and hugged Kyle tightly. In response, Kyle dropped the hands from her face and hugged Megan back.

For several minutes, the patient and the psychiatrist held each other while Kyle released her pain. Then drawing herself back, Kyle looked into Megan’s eyes and through the tears asked, “What happens to me now? I don’t have a sister or a brother or an aunt or an uncle. And I’m too young to live by myself.”

Megan knew this question was going to arise and was prepared. “Kyle, you can be here for a total of seven days, so until next Friday, you’re right here in the unit. After that, I’m afraid that we’re going to have to work with Social Services to find you a place to go.”

Kyle began to blubber again. “So I have to go live with somebody I don’t know, then maybe have to move from there to somewhere else? Noooo.” Then the young woman shook her head and dissolved into tears, again burying her head onto Megan’s shoulder.

Until now, Megan had been able to hold her own tears, except for a few drops that rolled down her cheeks. But with this latest outburst, Megan couldn’t hold it in any longer, and the two quietly sobbed together, with Megan holding her patient tightly. She knew that it was against policy to interact this strongly with a patient, but it seemed right in this instance. One didn’t leave a teen alone to face such a tragedy, she decided. It reminded Megan of leaving her parents’ house for the last time. After a couple of minutes, the doctor was able to control her own tears and concentrate on her patient.

Megan let Kyle continue to cry for a few more minutes, but when the sobs began to settle down, it was time for Megan to get to work.

Megan pulled herself back from Kyle looked straight at her. “You’re going to be OK. This is a turn in the road, not the end of your life. Think of it like this – all of the fears of your Dad attacking and hurting you, they’re gone now. I know that your Mom won’t be there, but someone else will be there to help you along. Do you remember our conversation this morning?”

Kyle nodded her head weakly. Her tears had finally stopped.

Megan continued. “I came home from college and tried to tell my parents that I was a girl – not a boy. They kicked me out. I had five months of college paid for, a few thousand for gas and expenses, and that was it. I had to start working while going to school. I got scholarships. I made it. You WILL, too. You’re smart and well-spoken. You’re a beautiful young woman. You’re going to be fine.”

Kyle gave Megan a look of sadness. “Do you really believe that?”

Megan took Kyle’s face into her hands, holding the young woman’s cheeks in her palms. “Yes, I do!”

Megan and Kyle sat back from hugging each other. The latter was starting to be back in some semblance of control, so Megan felt like that she could begin to talk to her more logically.

“Kyle, you’re never going to be totally alone. We’re not going to kick you out of here into a stranger’s home without someone to talk to. I’ll be talking to you the rest of the week and if I’m out for some reason, others will here. You’ll never be alone, even in the middle of the night.”

“But I don’t want to leave my school, my friends, and..”

“Jessica. I know”, Megan chimed in. “We’ll do our best to keep everything as stable as we can for you.” What Megan knew and Kyle didn’t, is that teens were often the hardest to place in adoptive homes. People often assumed that only troubled teens were involved, but that was often not the case with Kyle.

“Can we talk in a little bit? I just want to think about stuff.” Kyle began to tear up once again as she realized that her life would never again involve her parents.

Megan leaned back over to Kyle as she had done earlier. Carefully and softly, she took Kyle’s face in her hands and looked at her straight in the eyes. Blinking back tears, she softly said, “Kyle, I’m here for you. You’re a beautiful young woman. I’m not to let anything happen to you. I know that losing your Mom and Dad is huge. But it’s not the end. It’s the beginning – another bend in the road.”

Megan then released her grip and hugged her patient tightly once again. “You’re going to make it just fine. Make sure that you tell me everything that’s going through that pretty head of yours. Even with everything that’s just happened, you don’t deserve to ever be in here again.”

“I’ll try.”

“I’ll let you think about everything that’s happened. Then I’ll be back to talk you some more in just a little bit.”

“OK.”

Megan carefully watched as Kyle returned to a chair facing the walls in the common area. As the young woman slumped down, Megan turned and walked out, satisfied that for at least the time being, she would be all right.

Instead of returning to her office, though, Megan decided to clear her thoughts for a bit. Her pantry at home was emptier than usual, so she decided to get some non-perishables at the local grocery, then return to Metro.

Within an hour, she was finished with her shopping, satisfied that she had accomplished exactly what she needed. Now refreshed, she could approach the next step with Kyle.

Returning to the unit where Kyle was housed, Megan found her in the same chair, obviously still contemplating the events of the day.

“Hi, Kyle.” Megan sat down at a couch that was across from the chair where Kyle was sitting. By this time, another patient had wandered in to the common area. Kyle responded to Megan with a smile which warmed Megan’s heart. This girl is going to be all right after all, the psychiatrist told herself. “Why don’t we go back to that office where we were this morning”, she told the teen. “Sure”, Kyle answered.

The two walked slowly back to the office and Megan once again shut the door. The two exchanged places from their earlier session, with Kyle taking the couch and Megan taking the chair directly across from the teen.

Megan started the conversation with a question. Positive, but not smiling, she asked “Kyle, what would you like talk about? I came back because I knew that you would need someone by now.”

“Poor Mom. She didn’t deserve to die at Dad’s hand. ‘Course, I knew it could happen. I felt like that I was going to get killed sometime.”

“I read the notes from last night when you Mom came in the hospital. You had already been brought upstairs, but from the doctor that she talked to then, she was very concerned about you.”

“Mom’s the only reason that I stayed around. I prob’ly would have run away otherwise. I hated my Dad.”

Kyle began to tear up, then suddenly began yelling. “That son of a bitch! Now he’s taken away the one person who’s always understood me! I’m glad he’s dead!” Kyle broke down into heavy sobs, while quietly whispering, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Megan changed body language from relaxed to forceful as she leaned forward in the chair. Looking straight at Kyle, she replied, “You don’t have a thing to be sorry about. You don’t. Your dad was a mean, controlling, alcoholic freak. I want you to think about it this way, though. You don’t have to deal with him anymore.”

“Why did Mom have to die? She didn’t deserve it.”

“Sometimes bad things happen, things that we don’t anticipate. People get killed in accidents. People have medical issues that cost them their life. We can’t let ourselves get hung up on the ‘why’. We have to keep going. I’m sure that your Mom is saying to you right now, ‘Kyle, keep going. Grow up and be the strong woman that you are.’”

Kyle nodded at this.

The two continued to talk until almost 5:00 p.m. Megan learned almost her entire life story and was amazed at the strength, tenacity, and resourcefulness of the young woman. By the end of their visit, she was totally convinced that this was a young woman who would never again harm herself. In her mind, It was apparent that Kyle acted out a desperate plea for attention in a last ditch effort to influence events.

After one last hug and some encouraging words, Kyle was ready to go to a different room than the one she had occupied the night before. Megan was ready to go, as well, and her mind was thinking of a long run in Maxwell Park with Susie Templeton.

Maxwell Park, Saturday evening, 6:00 p.m.

“Hey, over here!” Susie Templeton yelled as she saw Megan’s gray BMW X3 enter the parking lot on the edge of Maxwell Park. The successful “investment counselor”, as she liked to call herself, had anxiously awaited Megan’s arrival so they could finish their run prior to sunset.

Megan found a parking space only three spaces over from Susie’s Infiniti sedan. She quickly pulled in, slipped her cell phone and keys into a pocket in the running outfit, and burst forth from the vehicle as if being pursued.

But this was no chase. The two simultaneously yelled “Hey” at each other, and exchanged a friendly hug before starting their stretches in the parking lot. Typical for the pair, they exchanged conversation before beginning their run. It was more than a jog for the pair, for both had completed several marathons over the previous few years.

“How was your day? I hate it that you have to work weekends every so often”, Susie asked as she stretched a bright orange headband across her forehead.

“I’m exhausted. Had a patient who ended up taking all day.” While Susie was putting on her headband, Megan was tying her hair back into a ponytail so that it would stay out of her face and be cooler. “At least it’s nice outside, today.”

“Beats snow and cold!”

“Yeah!”

“You sure you’re ready, Miss Bad-day-at-the-office?”

“You betcha. Pent up emotions. Need to run to get rid of them.”

“Let’s go then!”

Less than an hour later, the two women finished six miles and the end of their “long course” around the park and along some of the surrounding city streets. Susie invited Megan over to her condo for dinner, and her best friend readily agreed.

During the evening, Megan talked in broad generalities about Kyle, skirting any possible violations of patient privacy. Almost immediately, though, Susie connected Kyle with local news coverage of the crime and quickly understood Megan’s involvement and concerns.

But it was clear that the psychiatrist had more than just a passing interest in her patient. The two were sitting across from each other, Susie parked on a large leather couch, and Megan sprawled across a matching armchair, her legs across one arm and her back against the other.

“Meg, why are you so entranced with this girl?”

“She reminds me of myself after Mom and Dad kicked me out. She doesn’t have anyone. I mean, you were around to help me, and if it hadn’t been for you, I don’t know what would have happened.”

“So you’re identifying with her plight.”

“You could say that.”

“Do you want to still be a mom? I mean, after what happened with Matt?”

After Megan became serious with Matt, she talked at length to Susie about her dreams. Megan found out that Matt loved children, and the young woman began to dream of the idyllic life with a husband, a couple of kids, and a rewarding career. Of course, the couple would have to adopt since Megan lacked the necessary female organs.

Since his death, Megan had a series of unsuccessful relationships, and now the psychiatrist had almost given up on finding a mate. In her mind, Susie wondered if Megan’s dreams had died along with Matt.

Megan returned a half-frown. For a moment, she had a flashback of an old fantasy of happily holding a baby with a smiling Matt beside her. Returning to the conversation, she admitted, “Yes I do. But, I don’t know. Adopting a teen-ager?”

“Children of any age still need a parent.” The businesswoman leaned forward in order to make her point strongly. “And realistically, who’s going to want her? A teen-ager, strike one. A victim of abuse, strike two. And transgender, strike three and 99.9% of potential parents are out.”

Susie had a point. Would I make a suitable parent, Megan asked herself. The idea of having someone that age was attractive. Megan could guide Kyle far more as a parent than she could as a psychiatrist. Kyle was old enough to be independent and possibly even self-sufficient to a degree, but was she a thief or violent? For Susie to bring it up was significant. Megan and Susie had a sense about each other that was apparent even to outsiders.

After a long pause, Susie continued. “Look, we’ll both pray about it, and if God wants you to have her, then He’ll open the doors. It always works that way.”

Megan smiled back at her best friend, knowing that she was right. Suddenly, she sensed how late it was and looking at her watch exclaimed, “Dang it, I need to get home! I’m still on duty tomorrow, and then there’s church.”

“I know girl. I’ll see tomorrow morning.”

“Thanks for dinner and for everything!”

Megan quickly made her way downstairs to the BMW and was soon home to a quiet soak in the Jacuzzi. This time, though, she left her tablet behind, closed her eyes and just soaked. The day with Kyle had taken more energy and spirit out of her than she first realized. Instead of relaxing with a good book, she found herself wanting to sleep after she lit from the tub.

But sleep would evade her. She prayed over and over again, trying to release Kyle’s issues, as well as her own, to God. But nothing that she said seemed to relieve her angst.

Over and over, she remembered looking into Kyle’s eyes and seeing the look of sadness and helplessness in the teen. It tugged at Megan like no other patient had ever done before. Most of the time, her patients affected her little and she left their issues “behind at the office”.

Finally, she gave up, praying “God, what do you want me to do about Kyle?” Almost instantly, a voice came to her saying, “I want you to take her in and be her Mom.”

“What?” Her own thoughts overrode her spiritual feelings. This is a teenager, she thought. I can’t be a Mom, I’m not old enough or mature enough. I’ve established a single life, and someone like Kyle needs both a Dad and a Mom. Kyle needs someone who’s around more – I’m a doctor who works too much. I need to keep her as a patient. But the more arguments that she made, the more she was reminded of Moses arguing with God before he led the Israelites out of Egypt.

Megan had a comfortable life, with adequate income and a more-than-adequate home. She had a spare bedroom that wasn’t used except for visitors – and she hadn’t had one visitor in the two years that she had owned the townhouse. She could move Kyle in there and put a small bed in the third bedroom (her office) for real visitors.

The psychiatrist was reminded of the time when she purchased the townhouse. Only three-bedroom units were available instead of the two-bedroom that she really wanted. She remembered the grumbling that she made to herself, thinking that she’d never use the extra space. Had God anticipated this turn of events, Megan asked herself.

She would have to check into adoption on Monday morning, she decided. But if God worked out circumstances as He had done on previous occasions, this would be easy.

Could the two meeting in the way that they did mean that they were destined to experience some of life together? Megan pondered the question, but the answers were far from certain.

Megan finally dropped off to sleep, and one of her last thoughts was that unless she had a patient emergency to arise overnight, she would be able to go to church on Sunday morning. Sleeping soundly, she didn’t awaken until time to get ready the next morning.

CHAPTER 12

Sunday morning and afternoon

The early morning dawned sunny and cool for an April morning, but not cold. As was the case with most Sunday mornings, Susie and Megan met each other at Trinity Church, just a mile and a half from Megan’s townhouse. Sometimes if Megan wasn’t on duty, the two rode together, but since the doctor had to leave for the hospital immediately after church, they had come in separate vehicles.

At the door, the two were greeted warmly by a teenager and his mother. “Hey David, hey Sally”, Susie remarked as the two entered the door. Inside, others greeted them before they had a seat.

The two women looked different as daylight and dark, as Megan was wearing a dress, a sweater, and knee-high boots. Susie, on the other hand, came casual in jeans, a pullover sweater, and athletic shoes. The rest of the congregation was dressed in the wide expanse between athletic wear and formal dress. No one minded, though, as they were all there to worship, not to judge each other’s wardrobe choices.

Wandering down a hallway, they came to a plainly decorated room with about thirty chairs. Susie and Megan had elected to take a class on the writings of John, so they were there an hour ahead of the time for worship service.

The class had 26 attendees varying in age from 17 to 83. The two friends were in the youngest quartile age-wise, but no one seemed to pay attention. After everyone had arrived, the teacher began it with a prayer, then asked for prayer requests. Holding up her hand, Megan told the rest of the class about the opportunity to adopt a teen-ager, without going into any specifics to protect Kyle’s privacy. She just made reference to the fact that the teen was an orphan who was sensitive and scared to go into the social services system as a potential foster child.

Everyone in the class was supportive of Megan and as a group, the class prayed a separate prayer for her. Then other prayer requests were handled and the group prayed for them.

Megan had not always been accepted this well at Trinity. Two years earlier, Megan and Susie left their original church, Calvary Hill, when an internet search by one the congregants revealed Megan’s “secret”. This resulted in a modern-day shunning of the physician by many within the church. Even after a conversation with the minister, nothing improved. The pair, tiring quickly of the judgmental attitude, left quietly and didn’t come back. They tried Trinity, and it proved to be a haven where both felt comfortable.

But that feeling was to be short-lived. After several months, the same thing began to happen again following a magazine article on Megan and her work at Metro. This time, she decided to fight. After finding out that the minister was supportive of her, she asked for time to address the congregation before worship service one day. The request was granted, and before the minister began his sermon, he announced that Megan wanted to speak to them. The room was full of quiet murmuring as she began.

“I know that this is a little unexpected, to have me up here instead of Pastor Jim. I just needed to say a few words to clear up some misconceptions about me and why I’m here. Just to set things straight, I am a transgender woman who has accepted Christ as my Savior. But what I am isn’t nearly as important as how I got to this point.”

“From the time I was born, I genuinely and completely believed that I was a girl. For a while, my parents went along me and allowed me to have stuffed animals, dolls, and even some girl clothes in my room. But as I grew up, the pressure by my Dad to ‘man up’ grew and grew.” Megan rolled her sleeves and pointed to the scars on her arms. “Like a lot of teens, I began to make small slits in my arms with a craft knife that I kept in my room. They rarely bled heavily, but over time, my cutting began to show. I had to wear long sleeves to hide them. But not long after I turned fifteen, I gave up. I didn’t want to live anymore.”

The psychiatrist definitely had her audience’s attention. The sanctuary was ghostly quiet. With a few tears forming in the corner of her eyes, she continued.

“Late one evening, I went into my bathroom and I made a longer deep cut that I hoped would let me bleed out quietly. After hitting a pretty big vein, though, I realized that I had made a big mistake. I grabbed some towels but I couldn’t stem the tide. Right then, my Dad came in my room to talk to me and he found me screaming and crying in the bathroom.”

“You can guess what happened. I was sent to Metro Mental Health Hospital for two weeks. Even after that, though, my Dad refused to believe the findings of several psychiatrists and kept trying to make me a boy. So I survived the best that I could until college, then I began to correct the mistake that I felt God had made. Once my parents found out what I had done, they disowned me and never talked to me again.”

“Years went by. I finished college and had the surgery to finish what the hormones started. I was comfortable, or so I thought. During my residency in medical school, I fell in love with a man who accepted me. We were planning to marry until a man with a gun entered the hospital and shot him in the lobby.”

“It took me a long time to get over that. Life intervened once again when my best friend became an alcoholic. But then late one night, after an in-home bender, she found Christ as the result of a late night TV program. Susie called me, completely sober for the first time in months, and asked me to go to church with her. I initially resisted, because churchgoers are usually judgmental about transgender people like me.”

“But I came on anyway, and several hours after Susie accepted Christ in her living room, I accepted Him at a church altar. So much pain went away that night. It took several months for me to forgive my parents for what they did to me, but I was able to. I was able to forgive the gunman who took away the love of my life.”

Megan paused, because she knew what she was going to say next would be most critical part of her presentation.

“Most of all, Christ accepted me for the way that I am. But knowing this didn’t come easy. For months and months, I prayed and prayed, asking God if I made a mistake in changing my body to match my mind. I knew that some Christians would condemn me. Finally, though, one day as I was reading my Bible, the words of Paul popped out from Second Corinthians. ‘Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away, behold, the new has come.’ God didn’t want me to go backward, he wanted me to go forward, to act like a new creation.”

“It was a few weeks later that a mission trip was being assembled. As it turns out, my MD degree was needed. I went along, and cried over and over as I saw God using my skills for His good.”

“Every day, I make a journey to follow Him, to seek His will, and ask His forgiveness for the sins that I’ve committed. I’m asking that you allow me to make this journey with you. I think that’s what Christ would have wanted. There’s a lot of love here. My best friend and I sense that every time that we’re here. And by the way, that best friend that helped lead me to the Lord is right down front here.” Megan pointed to Susie. “Well, I’ve spoken enough. Thank you for your time, and may God Bless you.”

Her speech had taken place almost a year earlier. Since that time, any opposition to her attendance and participation vanished. Megan’s presence only garnered smiles and she was warmly welcomed (as was Susie) into every activity. She had helped to feed homeless people, gone on a mission trip to an Indian reservation in New Mexico, and acted as a chaperone for youth activities.

The class went well, as did the worship service that followed. After the worship service concluded, Susie and Megan kept their seats and Susie prayed for Megan. The two women hugged, and the two said good-bye. Megan quickly walked to her SUV, and after a quick stop at Wendy’s for a salad, headed toward Metro. It was time to check on Kyle.

She decided to hold off telling her patient that she was at least interested in working toward adoption. There were too many hurdles to clear and she didn’t want to raise Kyle’s hopes in case that any objections were raised to such an arrangement.

The teen was in the same common area that Megan found her the previous afternoon. Unfortunately, though, her body language was less upbeat and instead of reading, she was staring at the wall.

Megan entered the common area and walked over to Kyle.

“What’s going on?”

“Hi, Megan!” Well, that’s good, the psychiatrist reflected Spotting Megan in her peripheral vision, Kyle nevertheless kept looking straight ahead, “Nuthin’ much. Just thinking.”

“What about?”

“The future. What life will be like after I get outta here.”

Finally, Kyle turned her head and looked at Megan. By this time, Megan had sat down next to Kyle in one of the chairs. Kyle’s eyes widened. “Wow, that’s pretty. I love the boots and the dress.”

Megan smiled. “Thank you, Kyle! Oh, and look at you – they traded out that massive bandage. See – healing does happen!”

Kyle smiled back. “Yeah, they came and changed it out last night. At least now it doesn’t look like I broke my arm or something.” Looking at Megan up and down again, she continued, “I can’t get over that dress and boots – it’s so pretty. I always wanted to go to school dressed like that, but I couldn’t wear a dress outside my room. I had to be a guy for Dad.”

“I don’t think that you want to dress like this. It’s a little old for you! But I know that you mean. You just want to feel like the girl that you are inside.”

“Yeah, exactly!”

“Well I don’t think that you have anything to worry about. I’m going to recommend that you dress as female from this point forward. I see no reason for you to pretend being male any longer. I’m also going to recommend that you start hormones as soon as we can get an appointment with an endocrinologist.”

The girl could scarcely believe what she was hearing. This was the beginning of an entirely new life with no rules carried over from the previous one.

Megan continued, “One more thing. I’ll need the names and phone numbers of your friends. I think that it’s time for you to have some company, rather than just sitting in here.” I also want to speed up your healing from the trauma, and that’s one of the few things that I can do, Megan thought.

“Yay! OK, where can I write it down? I can’t WAIT!”

So the conversation started once again and lasted well into the afternoon. Kyle opened up completely, and Megan found out more and more about the young woman. The psychiatrist kept looking for excuses not to adopt Kyle, but found absolutely nothing. In fact, she decided, we could make a good fit together. But there was absolutely no way that Megan was going to bring up anything regarding her life after Metro until after she found out about the possibility of adoption.

Late in the afternoon, Megan headed back to her office with the list of Kyle’s friends. It was time to make some phone calls.

Putting on her best professional demeanor, Megan called the first name on the list.

The phone was answered by a female voice. “Hello?”

“Hello, this is Dr. Megan Phillips at Metro Hospital. Is this Jessica White’s mom?”

“Yes, it is, I’m Carly White.” Megan could detect tension in her voice.

“Ms. White, I’m calling about one of my patients, Kyle Britton.”

“Oh, of course. Kyle and my daughter have been best friends for years. Oh, my God, isn’t it terrible about what happened this weekend? Is that the reason she’s there?”

“She is here under our care. I’m afraid that’s all I can say at this point. But I’ve really called to ask a favor.”

“Sure, anything.”

“Kyle really needs to have some visitors. I was hoping that you could bring your daughter Jessica here to visit with Kyle.”

“Why, of course. Jessica will be thrilled to see her. She’s been so worried. Jessie and Kyle were supposed to go shopping together yesterday morning until.” Carly paused, not knowing what to say.

“I understand.” Megan thought back to the times that she and Susie leaned on each other. “Is there any way that you can bring her over tonight or tomorrow night?”

“It would be a lot easier for me to bring her there tonight. Would an hour be too soon?”

Even though Megan was tired, having a visitor for Kyle was a top priority. She wanted to monitor the visit, as well, and securing a connection to the camera and microphone in the rooms where visitors were allowed would be easy.

“That would be perfect. We’re in the Metro Hospital complex, in the Mental Health Tower. Just bring her to the reception desk on the seventh floor. I’ll meet you there.”

“Thank you! We’ll be there.” Carly smiled, for Jessica would be thrilled to see her BFF again.

Megan made two other calls to the parents of Kyle’s friends, and they agreed to bring them on Monday evening. That would give Kyle a total of three visitors by Monday night – probably about right, Megan told herself.

The psychiatrist logged into the video system to make sure that she could monitor Kyle and Jessica’s visit, and fortunately, her login was successful.

It seemed like a short time later when the receptionist called Megan to tell her that Jessica and Carly had arrived. Carly had decided to wait for Jessica, and the latter was escorted into a comfortable visitation area where Kyle was waiting.

After two hours, the girls had scarcely touched the surface of their need to share. Megan anonymously watched through the video system as the two shared tears, hugs, giggles, and even laughs. While Kyle needed further counseling to help her overcome the grief of losing her parents, it was apparent to Megan that any danger of further harm to herself was nonexistent.

Jessica and Kyle were teary when they left each other, and Megan decided that if she didn’t pursue temporary custody, then Kyle would need to be stay in the area where she and Jessica could continue their relationship. It was obvious that interaction with friends would be an important part of Kyle’s recovery.

It was 9:00 p.m. before Jessica left Kyle’s company. Megan was mentally exhausted from the weekend. But there was one more phone call that she had to make.

Susie Templeton was a “night owl” whose optimum amount of sleep was six hours. As a result, she went to bed late and arose early. It was no surprise to her when the phone rang and the caller ID showed “Megan Phillips”.

“Hi, lady!”

“Hi! I was hoping that you were home.”

“What if I said that I was at a wild party and I was actually in a closet?”

“Right. And my name is Anne Hathaway.”

“Why, Anne, it’s so nice talking to you!”

“Shut up! I really called about something serious.”

Susie’s tone changed abruptly from play to concentrated listening.

“Oh. I’m sorry. You’re usually pretty goofy after a weekend on call.”

“Susie, this morning, everyone in class prayed for me and the situation with Kyle. Do you still feel good about it? I can’t get Kyle out of my mind.”

“Yeah, I sense that it’s right. I’ve prayed for you several times this afternoon. I’ve never seen you react this way to a patient before. But I just know that it’s going to work out.”

“Thank you. I observed her with her best friend tonight, and she’s a wonderful young woman, very loving and caring. I think that her parents’ death is a bit of a relief to her, even though it’s left a lot of unanswered questions for her.”

“Like who’s going to take care of her.”

“Yes. And what will that person be like? And will they live close by so that she can still go to the same school and have the same friends.”

“And?”

“If I have her, then all of that will be taken care of. She can continue her school life, at least, with few changes. She can start attending as the girl she is, instead of having to pretend to be a boy. That damned father of hers.”

“I remember when you and Matt were serious. You wanted a child. Then after he died, you were questioning why you ever sought such a thing in your life. I told you then, and I’m telling you now, God works in strange ways. Our paths can change suddenly.”

“Like the way our friendship started.”

“God was with us both that evening. You needed someone right then, and later on when I went off the tracks, you were there for me. I don’t think that I would have even turned on that program if my best friend hadn’t threatened to cut off our friendship.”

“And you know that I only did that because I love you. I couldn’t seem to reach you.”

“But God did. And the rest is history for the both of us.”

“So that’s the reason why I feel so good about this.”

“I think that He has someone who needs you. And you were just in the right place at the right time. When are you going to see your boss about this?”

“Tomorrow morning. I don’t know if it’s even possible, but I want to try. Kyle’s worth it.”

“OK, then!” Then Susie’s mood shifted back to one of teasing her friend. “Thank you for calling Templeton Counseling. That’ll be $100 for the session, please.”

“You are so dead. I’ll get you for that last part.”

The two laughed heartily, but Megan excused herself and promised to call Susie the next day, after she met with Terry Weston.

Hanging up, Megan reflected that she hadn’t even asked Kyle’s opinion yet. That would need to be determined soon, she decided. Maybe even as soon as tomorrow.

The psychiatrist remembered that there would be other questions for Kyle, such as burial arrangements for her parents. Since both of them died of homicide, the Medical Examiner would take a quick look at them then release the bodies to the state. It would be up to Kyle as to whether her parents would have a cemetery interment or would be cremated. The teen would be forced to make several grown-up decisions in spite of being only fifteen.

CHAPTER 13

Monday morning - Office of Terry Weston, MD (Metro Hospital – Chief of Mental Health Services)

It was around 11:00 a.m. when Megan entered Terry’s office suite. His administrative assistant greeted Megan warmly as she arrived. But the psychiatrist was hyper-focused on the reason for her visit and what she was going to say.

“I have an appointment to see him about now. Is he available?” Megan asked. Earlier in the morning, she had called to seek an appointment with him, and this was his only open spot for the entire day.

“He is. Good luck. It’s been a busy morning.”

Terry Weston arose from his desk when Megan entered. He looked every bit the quintessential psychiatrist, from his graying Van Dyke beard and hair, to the suit with a tweed-type fabric. Most of the time, he had a pleasant demeanor, but appeared mildly stressed this morning. Budget cuts to the Mental Health unit occupied his mind and made him more glad than usual that he would be retiring within a few years.

“Hi, Megan. You wanted to talk with me? I assume it’s nothing bad.”

Megan smiled at him, although inside she was nervous having to talk to her boss about Kyle.

“Oh, no, Terry. Nothing like that. I just wanted to talk with you about a patient.”

“Let me guess. The boy, or rather the girl, whose parents died last Friday night.”

“That’s the one. Sir, I’ve spent a total of ten hours with her over the weekend. That doesn’t count the time that I observed her with her best friend last night. She shows a great amount of grief, as you might guess, but she’s not depressed. It really surprised me. Most girls who cut show at least some kind of depression. I think that she cut to get her dad’s attention that she was serious about her femininity.”

“Makes sense. I know you just didn’t come in to give me a report, though.”

Megan sighed. Here goes, she thought. “I want to be appointed as her temporary guardian.”

The elder psychiatrist sighed and mildly frowned at her request.

“Megan, as a professional, I’d advise against it. There’s nothing ethically wrong with it. I mean, we can always transfer her case to another physician. But, a transgender teen who just lost both parents? That’s a load to take on. And while you may have spent a lot of time with her, do you really know her?”

“I know what you’re thinking and I can understand where you’re coming from. But there’s no one in this city who understands her more than I do. I was transgender like her. My parents booted me out and disowned me when I was eighteen. So I was by myself. Like her, I had no brothers and sisters – it was just me. And we both cut because we couldn’t deal with everything. Try to find a foster home whose parents would understand and be able to deal with all of that.”

Weston shrugged his shoulders as he studied Megan’s face and thought about her arguments. Megan was right. There weren’t enough foster homes for teens, and for a special case like this, it would be doubly hard for Social Services to locate one by the weekend when Metro would have to discharge Kyle.

“You love her, don’t you? I see it in your eyes.”

“The more that I look into her eyes, the more that I see myself at that age. I’m just blessed to meet up with her at the right time and help her to reach whatever goals that she has for herself.”

Weston sighed and managed a weak smile. “Go for it, Megan. You have my blessing. Just make sure that you talk over with her and if she’s in favor of it, get her case transferred immediately. I don’t want us to be blamed of some improper action from the ethics people. Get in touch with Amy West. She’s the hospital’s liaison with the State Social Services people. She can tell you how to proceed.”

“Will do. Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome, Megan. And good luck to you and to her.”

Early Monday afternoon

After leaving Weston’s office, Megan went to the cafeteria and purchased her lunch “to go”. Bringing it back to her office, she formulated her plans. She wanted to have as many answers as possible before calling Amy West.

Because of her anxious mood, though, Megan ate her lunch faster than usual, and fifteen minutes later, she was done and ready to call Amy. Picking up her office phone, she dialed Amy’s number. West answered on the second ring.

Megan introduced herself and asked if she had heard about Kyle’s case. As a result of the weekend news reports, Amy had heard about Kyle and knew that she was in the Mental Health unit at Metro. While she knew that Kyle would have to be released by the weekend, Amy hadn’t yet started to work on Kyle’s case. More importantly, though, she was willing to meet with Megan immediately even though she didn’t provide a reason for the visit.

Megan headed to Amy’s office, which was located in the office tower next to the Mental Health Unit. As soon as she arrived, Megan noted that it was barely more than a closet. It confirmed her belief that some of the most important jobs in the hospital were done in the smallest places.

Megan introduced herself, and though Amy was friendly, her immediate demeanor wasn’t warm.

Amy was curious, though, for Megan’s visit.

“Dr. Phillips…”

“Call me Megan, please.”

“Megan, why did you come to see me? Is there some kind of problem?”

“Oh, absolutely not. I’m here about Kyle Britton. I was just wondering what the procedure would be for me to adopt Kyle, at least temporarily.”

“Are you sure that you want to do that? You’d have to give her up as a patient, plus taking on a teen-ager.”

“Amy, she needs me. I’m transgender – she’s transgender. I was kicked out and disowned at eighteen. Her parents have died. Both of us grew up as only children.”

“So you have a lot in common with Kyle. I see.” Amy sighed as she leaned back in her chair. There’s more than enough misgivings to go around with this one, but it sure would be an easy way out, she thought. The social worker decided to take Megan up on her offer. “Well, I think that we can do the background check and home visit this week. It’ll be kind of rushed, but I think that we can get it done. Have you talked to Kyle yet?

“No. I didn’t want to bring it up until I found out whether it was possible. Since it is, I’ll talk to her about this afternoon. I have a session scheduled with her at 3:00.”

“OK. Let me know as soon as you find out. If she’s interested in being your ‘daughter’, even temporarily, we’ll need to get everything started right away.”

Megan finally smiled, and Amy reciprocated. “Thank you. I didn’t even consider this until after I had a couple of sessions with her. We clicked like…” Megan paused.

“Like a mother and daughter?”

“Yeah, like that. I’ve been in practice for eight years, and probably talked to several hundred teen-agers, but I’ve never had that feeling before.”

“You know, some scientists have proposed that all of us have chemicals and that attractions like this are chemical in nature. They say that we’re naturally predisposed to knowing when someone is compatible.”

“Well, whatever it is, I just feel drawn to her. I guess that she’s a little old to be my daughter, but somehow, that’s the role I see for us.”

“Just tell everyone who doesn’t know any better that you got pregnant as a teenager.”

Both women laughed. Inside, though, Amy was relieved. Kyle would have been a tough one to place in a temporary, or maybe even permanent, foster situation.

“I’ll email you all of the paperwork as soon as we’re done here. If you can complete it tonight, I can take the information and get started on it tomorrow. With a little luck, we’ll be ready for the judge by the Thursday hearing.”

“Thursday hearing? Judge?”

“Before temporary custody can be assigned, a judge has to put his stamp of approval on it. Don’t worry, it’s not a real judge, just an administrative law judge.”

“Will I have to appear?”

“It would be better if you did. That way, in case there are any questions, they can be resolved immediately. Since Kyle is in this facility, I’m assuming that the hearing will be right here in the building. Also, due to Kyle’s age, she’ll have to appear, as well. The judge will be probably be curious as to why Kyle’s psychiatrist wants to be at least a temporary custodian. So be prepared to answer some questions along that line. You sure you’re up to all of this?”

“I think so. The idea is still kind of new to me, but I’m sure that between now and Thursday, I’ll be ready.”

“Megan, I really admire you. There’s a young person with a need, and you stepped up to take care of it.”

“God calls me to do it.”

“I’m sure He’ll be happy.”

“Thanks again, Amy.”

“Any time, Megan. I expect we’ll be seeing each other again. I’ll need to interview you at least one more time before the Thursday hearing.”

“Just give me a call and I’ll juggle my patients to fit your schedule. Thanks again for all your help.”

“Bye now!”

The two women smiled at each other as they rose from their respective chairs. Megan waved at Amy as she left the social worker’s office.

Now it would be up to Kyle.

Patient session, Metro Hospital Mental Health Unit, later on Monday afternoon

Now that Kyle was among the general population, it was easier to meet her for yet another session. They met in a therapy room that was equipped with a sofa, two comfortable wing-back chairs, and a couple of tables. The latter had lamps on them so that sessions didn’t have to be conducted with the glare of overhead fluorescent lighting, something that Megan disdained. To her, overhead fluorescents smacked of institutional décor, something she didn’t want to project as she attempted to treat her patients.

Kyle came in promptly at 3:00 and gave Megan a big hug as part of her greeting. Megan could tell that she was still very upset and grieving, but she was beginning to adjust the idea that life would be changing a lot very soon.

First, Megan had to determine the teen’s wishes for her parents. She was very adamant – both of her parents had expressed their desire for cremation. Kyle also expressed a lack of desire to handle their ashes. “Ooh, let someone else handle them” was her reaction. Once the unpleasantness of immediate decisions was complete, Kyle and Megan talked for almost an hour and a half. It was apparent to Megan that Kyle had entered a new phase in the grieving process. Kyle had moved through the denial, anger and bargaining steps more quickly than anyone Megan had encountered before. But now, there was a bit of depression that went along with acceptance. Kyle spent a lot of time talking about her future and where she envisioned herself without parents.

Without warning, though, Kyle asked, “What kind of people would want to adopt me? I mean, I’m not your cute little four- or five-year-old whose biggest problem is losing their teddy bear.”

Megan carefully answered, “I think that you’re selling yourself short. You’re pretty, you’re intelligent, well-spoken, and you get along well with people.”

“Well, I guess that most people think about all the drama and stuff that we have.”

“A lot of people have heart. They crave someone like that in their life. People tend to go through life, living day-to-day with their job, their house or apartment, their friends, things like that. Then they wake up and figure out that all of that ‘stuff’ leaves them incomplete.”

“OK. I’m just going by what I’ve read. I spent a lot of time looking up stuff on the Internet yesterday, now that I can do that.”

“There are all kinds of adoptive families. What do you think that your adoptive family should look like?”

“Really, I don’t want any brothers or sisters. I want it to be just like at my Mom and Dad’s house.”

“So you want to be the only child.”

“Yeah. I want to experience life with having things, I mean not expensive, but I mean having all your clothes bought at Wal-Mart or the thrift store gets kind of old.”

Megan nodded.

Kyle went on. “Y’know, it wouldn’t be all bad if I had just one parent. Someone that I could get really close to. Someone that would work toward understanding me. Like you. I mean, I know you’re single, but do you have kids?”

“Kyle, I’ve never been married. And yes, I want children someday. I’m planning to adopt one someday.” Megan shuddered inside at the question. Even though the wounds of her past were healed for the most part, sometimes circumstances ripped at the scar. The psychiatrist had to put her own feelings aside and quickly moved back to concentrating on her patient.

“How about me? I’m available. And I can cook – I used to help Mom with the meals. I can do laundry. And think about it this way – I’m mostly grown. No diapers, no whiney toddlers or having to be called by the principal.”

Covering her real feelings effectively, Megan laughed at Kyle’s last comment. “Are you asking me to adopt you?” This is too good to be true, Megan told herself, smiling at her patient. Here I thought about adopting Kyle, and now Kyle’s the one considering it without prompting.

Kyle shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah! I mean, I really like you. You just seem like you would make a good Mom. I gotta go home with somebody by this weekend from what you’ve told me, and I’d rather go home with you than some stranger.”

Megan’s heart began pounding. “Really? I’ve never done this with a patient before, but Kyle, I was thinking the same thing about you.”

“It’s a sign. Jessica and I have always talked about signs. This sounds like one of those times.” Kyle switched her voice to a lower pitch as if she was recording a commercial or movie trailer. “Tell me, Doctor Phillips, what kind of accommodations can I expect?” Both doctor and patient laughed for a long time.

“Well, if you must know, Miss Britton, I have a three bedroom townhouse very close to here. One of the bedrooms is never used, and it’s already equipped with a bed and a chest. All you would have to do is to bring your clothes and your other personal things, and you would be ready to go. You can still go to the same school. Jessica could still be your best friend. Your life can go on with a lot of things being the same.”

Kyle’s heart momentarily pounded as she weighed what Megan had told her. “Wait a minute, though. What does that do to us, I mean as doctor and patient? I mean, you know me better than anyone now.”

“I would have to transfer your case to another doctor. In fact, the second that I give the go ahead to begin temporary adoption, even before Social Services makes up their mind, I have to do that. But, as your ‘parent’, we would have a lot more time. Plus, I could help you out a lot more than just being your doctor.”

“Let’s make it happen! What can I do?”

“There’s going to be a social worker named Amy West who will come to see you. Be totally honest with her and express your feelings completely. Tell her your fears, your hopes, your dreams, everything. She will ask you how you would feel about living with me, about how you would envision me as your ‘Mom’”.

“That’s it?”

“That’s all.”

Megan and Kyle continued talking for several more minutes until the session ended. Megan told Kyle about the doctor who would be seeing her until her release from Metro. It was an attempt by the psychiatrist to put her patient at ease. But the dynamics had changed. Both were anticipating something stronger than just a patient and doctor relationship. Megan just hoped that Kyle wasn’t counting on the court awarding the physician temporary custody. It would all depend upon Thursday’s hearing and how the judge would view the situation.