Four women, centuries old, versed in the ways of Draoidheil, the old art, not of witchcraft as we know it, but rather blessings and help for mortals; they are charged to bring strength to those living in doubt and fear. Each woman has the task of influencing one mortal only, so that they in turn can provide comfort to another. The women long ago had set aside power in favor of persuasion imbued with love, acceptance and understanding; those traits that had proven over and over to instill courage and hope…
Previously…
A final unscheduled speaker walked onto the platform, her pace slow and nervous, but she was determined to speak, if only for her own benefit, but ultimately for the benefit of a teen who had felt unsupported and misunderstood.
She was pretty, in her thirties it appeared, and she was dressed modestly owing to the importance of the presentation. She walked up to the mike, her blue shirt set off by the maroon curtains behind the lectern.
“I would like to thank the school for giving me this opportunity to speak. Some of you already know me, having sat across from me in my office,” she said softly. She was accompanied on stage by a pretty woman who looked up at her with pride from her vantage point from her wheelchair.
"I would also like to thank a student I've know for a while, whose courage and understanding also helped me make the decision to speak today." She paused and choked back a sob.
“Some know me as Mr. Lambert, or Dan…but today, with my wife beside me, you may call me Diane.” She half-smiled and turned to face Trudy, who had tears in her eyes. To be sure, she was anxious for her husband, but what couldn’t they face, such was the confidence in their love. Truth be told, she couldn't recall a time where he stood so tall but seem so... slight. She smiled through tearful, loving eyes as her husband... her wife spoke for the very first time…
(Questions)
At the school the following week…
"Hi Marion, you wanted to see me?" Dan Lambert stood in the principal's office doorway, feeling quite like a teen ready to be scolded.
"Close the door, Dan." Marion Langhorne looked up only briefly from her desk, and her expression was less than welcoming.
"Sure," he said, closing the door, wondering what would prompt her glare.
"What's the meaning of this?" She tossed a folder to the other side of the desk. He grabbed it and opened it up.
"What do you mean...this is the assembly we had last week for the transgender students." He smiled, but his expression was not reciprocated. Marion glared at him once again and frowned.
"You're supposed to get approval for any assembly from me Dan, you know that." Her voice sounded almost like a mother reminding her child of the rules of the house.
"You approved it...Here's your signature...right here? What's the problem? Linda was out on medical leave and you were out of town. The assembly went great."
"My problem isn't so much with the assembly itself, but your participation in it." She said.
"Why should that be a problem?" He asked, not because he didn't know the answer, but that he wanted to hear it from her lips.
"You showed up at an afterschool assembly in drag, Dan...That's the problem...Don't you see that as a problem?" she asked dismissively. He took a breath. He had expected some flack for his part in the assembly, but not from his closest colleague.
"No...Not at all." He said it firmly but softly. She looked at him as if to say, "I don't believe this!"
"Let me get this straight. We have an after school assembly, and you show up wearing women’s slacks, a blouse and a blond wig and makeup and you don't have a problem with that? What were you thinking?' Her question sounded more like an indictment than an attempt to learn.
"We have several students who are transgender, Marion. I figured that if I came dressed as I did, they might feel a sense of commonality and perhaps that the school understood." He smiled, but immediately regretted it.
"Well, you figured wrong. We got about ninety letters of complaint because of your decision, and I don't know how to answer them, do you?" Once again, her tone seemed dismissive, as if she was more than just a little reluctant to hear his side, no matter what it was.
"I'd be willing to bet if you look at those letters, they would be from parents whose children didn't attend the assembly. We had less than fifty kids there, and apart from one parent who disapproves of their child's lifestyle, all the feedback was positive." He didn't smile, but he leaned on her desk.
"Nevertheless, I have to consider the students who aren't transgender. What do I do about that?" She frowned.
"I don't know...what did the principal down in Little Rock do? What did they do up in Boston?" Dan said
"Come on, Dan, that's not fair at all. I have to be accountable to the needs or more than just a handful of students; this place functions almost like a democracy from what the school board imparted to me not 15 minutes ago."
"You know what the definition of a democracy is, Marion? Two foxes and a chicken deciding what to have for dinner!"
"This is not funny Dan. You can't pull crap like this without consequences. You do this again, and there'll be "hell to pay," as the Superintendent told me. And from now on, no more assemblies without my approval. The assembly you've got coming up is...postponed." She said it and turned away as if to get something out of her credenza.
"That's not fair. You approved that months ago. The speaker is coming all the way from Chicago...at her expense."
"I'm sorry Dan, but this isn't my call. I don't have much say in this either." Marion looked away once again. She turned back and there were tears in her eyes.
"Off the record, okay?" She said softly. Dan noticed the change in demeanor. He took a seat next to her and looked at her intently.
"This place pisses me off. They cry for diversity and then they pull this shit. We've known each other for a long time. You honestly don't think I'd pull this on you. It comes from further up the chain of command...way up." She frowned and put her hand on his arm.
"The mayor and city council met in an emergency session to discuss this. Apparently my inability to answer eighty-seven letters in one day was met with disapproval. Dan, if you do something like this again, they've promised me it will mean your job." She sighed and bit her lip.
"I understand." Dan said in resignation. Marion put her hand on his arm once again and said,
"For what it's worth, in my twenty-three years here, your act has to be one of the bravest, most considerate things I've seen. I am proud of you. On the record...you show up like that again, and you're fired." She said it in a half-hearted attempt at imitating Donald Trump, but she closed her eyes, put her head in her hands and started crying.
"Marion?" Dan said softly.
With her head still down, she reached out with on hand and gripped his before letting go. Dan rose and left the office, locking the door behind him.
Six months later: at the Lambert home…
My dreams could be, tomorrow.
One step, one fall, one falter,
East or west, over earth or by ocean.
One way to be my journey,
This way could be my Book of Days.
“Are...are you sure about this?” The voice called with hesitation from the bathroom. The woman lay on the bed, her long blond hair draped over the edge, almost like an old pin up. She wore a long mint green satin robe which lay open, exposing her body. Her hands caressed her breasts and she cooed softly.
“Of course, my darling.” She purred. The room was dimly lit from the light streaming from the door of the bathroom, which was only slightly ajar. The voice called out again.
“I’m afraid.” The voice almost cried.
“Honey, you’ve nothing to be ashamed of. This is who you are…we’ve known it for some time. Come and love me….like you always have.” The woman on the bed smiled to herself, feeling content.
“I’m not the one you fell in love with,” the voice called out again. “You married me thinking I was going to be the strong one…the one who would protect you. I can’t even protect myself.” The voice sobbed.
The woman looked up from the bed to the doorway of the bathroom. A figure stood in the doorway, trembling.
“Honey, come here, please.” The woman said. She looked up again.
“Trru...Trudeee…huneee.” By now Dan was weeping. His body had already begun to change, the product of subtracting and adding, as the chemistry began his metamorphosis. Soon, there would be no turning back…perhaps an irrevocable decision that he still was unsure of.
“I’ll ask again, please come to me?” Trudy said softly, not as a command but a plea. “I married your heart. You know that. Things have never been what we wanted. My body is broken beyond repair and yet you have treasured me and loved me and held me close. How can I do anything different with you?” Her own eyes had filled with tears.
Dan wore a copper colored camisole and tap pants with a short robe, all in soft silk. For the first time, he had sprayed his body with the perfume that Trudy had bought for them both. He wore no makeup and his hair, while longer than ever before, still was more akin to a boy’s cut, and yet his body had begun to display the product of his journey…he was beginning to display a more feminine appearance, however subtle.
Still lying on her back, Trudy extended her arms toward him and said softly,
“You look lovely, sweetheart,” Her voice cracked as she began to sob softly as well.
“I’m so sorry…I’ve made you cry…I can’t do this to you.” Dan said. He turned to walk back into the bathroom, but was stopped by her call.
“Do not apologize for making me cry…I’m crying because you’re hurting…You have been carrying this for too long, Diane. No more. And no more Daniel…you are Diane to me, as if you had been Diane to me all along.” She would have turned and sat up but for the legs that no longer felt or supported or walked.
“Come help me, please.” She was angry, more for the helplessness she felt, not for her body, but for the decades of doubt and shame her lover had been made to feel by unknowing and uncaring people.
“I know what you’re thinking, Diane and you’re wrong.” She welcomed his attention with a half-frown as he picked her up and placed her gently on the pillows piled against the headboard of the bed.
“We can never know how I would have felt if I never got hurt.” She frowned, not at Diane, but at her motionless legs, as if her eyes were gesturing.
“I have no feeling there,” she said as she looked at her body, “but I feel and enjoy and relish and savor every moment of every time we get together!”She bit her tongue as the tears fell onto her chest.
“You bring me great joy with your tenderness…your sweetness…as if I were the only woman in the world. Your words strengthen me and your kisses bless me, even if I can’t feel every kiss in every place in every way. Even if I have never felt you inside me, you invade me with your presence and fill me with great joy.”
She spoke almost as if she were singing a grand love song, for she loved and felt love in one moment. She pulled Diane to her and kissed her, over and over and over, laughing softly as they enjoyed each other, feeling truly blessed.
(Decisions)
A few weeks later:
The light streamed through the parting of the curtains, bathing their bed in warm sunlight.
"Hey, sleepyhead. Good Morning," she said, kissing her lover on the cheek. Diane turned over and smiled weakly.
"Your eyes are so puffy, honey. Were you crying?" Almost a rhetorical question.
"I'm so scared." Diane looked at Trudy and shrugged her shoulders softly. "I'm not sure I'm ready for this." She used her eyes as a gesture as she looked at her body. While her transformation was nearly complete, save for the final alteration, she wasn't thinking of her transition.
"You may not be ready, but we are. We're in this together." Trudy smiled and kissed Diane's cheek once again.
"You've got so much going for you...me included!" She laughed softly.
"But what if this doesn't work? What will I do?" Diane bit her tongue and shook her head softly from side to side.
"We will be okay." Trudy nodded and widened her eyes as if to make a point.
"You have everything going for you. You love those kids. You love your job. We'll be fine." Diane looked at her wife as if to plead for mercy, but she really was looking for assurance. She had never been confident, either as Daniel or or Diane.
"Let me tell you something, sweetheart." Trudy's eyes began to mist even as she recalled what she was about to say.
"The day we met? I was wheeling myself into my office building and you were walking by. Remember?" Trudy's vision of the moment was brilliant and vivid. Diane's vision had been dimmed and shaded by doubt and misplaced shame. She looked at Trudy blankly until she heard these words,
"You said, 'excuse me, can I help,' and smiled at me. The nicest smile I had ever seen; the most welcoming smile I have ever known. You didn't rush to my side or take charge...just 'excuse me, can I help?.'" Trudy smiled at the thought of the memory while Diane frowned, not being able to recall. Her memories were clouded and shaded by the worry of the moment.
"I nodded, and you just helped me. Once I was freed from the doorway, you released the chair. It was like you were saying, 'Here you are, I hope that was okay.'" She smiled once again. Diane's eyes began to fill with tears as she began to recall.
"And then the most wonderful thing ever in my life took place. You got down on one knee and grabbed the armrest of my chair to steady yourself. You looked me in the eye and smiled that smile of yours. I thought it couldn't get any bigger or brighter but it did. And then you said, 'I don't believe I know you.' Like you were missing something...like I had just brought something special to you..to someone..as if I were blessing you."
Trudy shrugged her shoulder as if to say, 'sorry, but that's just how I feel.
"'Hi, I'm Trudy Pavelich.' I said. I stuck my hand out and you took it gently and held it for a moment. And then you said the most wonderful words I had ever heard. 'I am so pleased to meet you, Trudy.'" Trudy paused to savor the moment.
"You made me feel so special...the first time since the accident." Trudy's eyes filled with tears. There would always be regrets and sadness over her limitations, but her tears were tears of joy.
"In that one moment, when you lowered yourself to my level, not to be condescending, but to be inclusive...you made me feel that I finally belonged once again. You not only brought yourself to my level, but you lifted me up at the same time.”
Diane looked at Trudy; overwhelmed with gratitude. Trudy went on.
“You know I always thought there was something about you…something different?” She looked in Diane’s eyes, almost searching for some understanding…something that would convince Diane of her support and love.
“You and I talked about children…I know you didn’t want to…you didn’t want to hurt me.” Trudy glanced downward at her own body, remembering the day.
“Two words made me think…two words that I didn’t give a second thought at the time...'I know'; you were so understanding and supportive…you seemed so connected to my grief. And then one day it came to me…you knew the pain I felt because you felt it yourself. You knew my loss because you never had what we both wanted…to bear children. I knew then how much different you were; not only from other men, but from what I thought you were.” At those words Diane winced and tears began to fall once again.
“No, dearest…no crying…no guilt…no more shame. Today it stops. You were never whom I thought you were, but you have always been and always will be whom I really need…and love.” Trudy touched her heart with her palm and smiled.
"You won't be going into that school today by yourself. I'll be right there with you." She touched Diane's chest almost like ET did with Elliot.
"I'll be right there. Okay?" Trudy pulled her lover into her and kissed her. She loved more than anything that her arms were still able to hold...her hands able to caress and explore and comfort. And when she pulled Diane close she felt empowered and alive.
After a few moments, they parted lips and looked at each other. Both were crying, but with tears of gladness. In a brief moment, Trudy's strength had empowered Diane for the biggest day of their lives, perhaps.
"I guess there's only one question I have for you. Maybe the most important question of the day." She smiled at Diane.
"What?" Diane said softly with a smile.
"Will it be Navy Blue with the slacks or Charcoal Grey with the skirt?"
Will fly away
May it be your journey on
To light the day
When the night is overcome
You may rise to find the sun
As the couple prepared for the day, four figures stood or rather hovered by the window, unseen; Calleigh, Orla, Fiona, and the newest member of the Women, Draihoidel they are called, magical spiritual beings from the old country. They looked at the couple through the bedroom window and then moved off
“So these two, we know them don’t we?” Orla said, but it really was a statement rather than a question.
“Yes,” Calleigh said. “Not so long ago, Fiona was blessed with the responsibility to help the woman…Diane is her name, but you may remember her as Dan. And her wife is Gertrude..Trudy she is called.” Calleigh smiled at Fiona who beamed at the mention of the man who had become something else, perhaps something more.
“So they need our help?” Sinead asked. The newest member, she was learning all about who she was in the scheme of things. Never a patient mortal, she was beginning to understand the meaning of patience, but her question was anything but hasty.
“In a way, dear heart, but not directly.” They have each other. It is the ones they serve and the ones who serve them that require our assistance. Orla smiled knowingly. She had recognized the needs of the two at first, and her resourcefulness had crafted a plan, if you’ll excuse the expression.
“Each of us will influence a mortal to make decisions. We are bound by those decisions, even if they become difficult or even problematic, as they say. Whatever they choose to do will guide and may ultimately decide what happens to this sweet couple.” Calleigh smiled once again.
“Will I be able to help this time?” Sinead asked. In the intervening months since their last visit, she had only been allowed to observe.
“Oh, yes, dear heart. As a matter of fact, your assignment should be waking and getting ready for the day just now as well. Shall we go and see, ladies?” Calleigh smiled at Orla and Fiona, both of whom already knew how special the plan would be for Sinead. In a moment they were transported from the couple’s home to another home not far away; a home that Sinead recognized.
“You kids need to get ready. I know that having a car changes things, Mike, but you still have to get to school on time. Michael McCarthy bounded down the stairs, his sister Patty following close after him.
“Mind you get straight back here right after school. I need the car to take Patty to the doctor.”
“Oh, can we just skip today, Aunt Breena?” Patty asked. I can just pop by her office tomorrow and get the new prescription tomorrow morning. Chelsea and I wanted to go to the library to study.” Breena half-frowned and said,
“Plenty enough time for that…besides, Dr. Murdoch is off to a conference tonight and she won’t be back until Tuesday. I’ll drop you by her house right after the appointment, okay?”
“Sounds like a plan,” Mike said with a sigh. He had wanted to get together with his girlfriend Hilda that afternoon as well. Less focused than his sister, Mike had lapsed into some poor habits recently and really had not considered the implications. He was going to learn soon enough that actions have consequences; some difficult to deal with perhaps, but also beneficial if one is willing to learn from them.
As Breena placed the cereal bowls on the dining room table, a bright light began to stream through the window of the front storm door. A moment later the bell rang.
Janey McCarthy, most recently deceased and even more recent the newest member of the Four, stood at the front door. Breena was surprised enough to drop one of the bowls. Neddie ran quickly from the kitchen, wagging his tail. Ignoring the woman at the door, he made a beeline for the pile of spilled Cheerios and inhaled them in an instant. Patty stood stock still, while Mike walked over calmly and opened the door and smiled warmly at his mother as if greeting a dead parent was something he did every day.
Janey looked back and forth between her son, her daughter, her sister and the Irish Setter who was wagging his tail and said simply,
“Begging your pardon, dear hearts, but can ye tell me…Am I late for breakfast?”
"Mom?" Patty ran to the door way and hugged Janey, for that is who she was in her once mortal form. Breena continued to stand by the dining room table, staring at her sister while the dog happily lapped up the Cheerios at her feet.
"As ever was, baby girl." Janey grabbed her youngest and squeezed tightly as the two stared at each other; Patty in amazement and Janey in pure joy.
"It seems first assignment will be to work with a dear lovely family that I just happen to know."
"Assignment? Are you going to be working with us?" Michael said as he closed the front door. Janey turned and smiled.
"In a manner of speaking; rather, dear boy, you will be working with me. I've got more than a couple of folks to help, and I need help myself if I'm going to be of any use to them. And who better to work with than my own kin?" She smiled wryly at Michael and continued.
"Besides, Calleigh, my new friend and mentor, has mentioned that someone here has some experience?"
"NO...no tell me you're not...." Michael held up his hands in protest.
"No, darlin', nothing so drastic as a transformation this time...leastwise anything that drastic..." She smiled at him again.
"What...what are you going to do to me?" Michael almost cringed. Being transformed into one of the women the last time and then to be returned to his mortal form, only to be asked to dress in girls' clothes to show solidarity with his sister...it was almost more than he could handle, but handle it he did.
"Michael, son of mine....why does this have to be all about you?" She practically giggled, evoking a similar response from Patty.
"You haven't even asked who we...yes, we are going to help." She shook her head and raised her finger in mock scolding.
"Well, either way, come give your mother a kiss, won't you. I don't bite, you know!" She held out her hands in welcome. He stepped closer and hugged Janey who pulled him close and whispered,
"I can't talk right now, but I need you, Michael...for your Aunt Breena's sake!"
(If We Believe)
Though hope is frail, it's hard to kill
Who knows what miracles you can achieve
When you believe,…
Later that morning, in the Guidance Department offices suite...
The woman sat nervously at her desk. She was clad in a simple charcoal grey A-line skirt and a button down navy blue blouse. Her hair was pulled into a bun and she wore little makeup, save for some eye shadow and lip gloss. The watch on her left wrist was a recent gift from her partner and she wore a gold wedding ring on her left hand. The clock on the office wall said nine-twelve. A moment later a knock came at her door, followed by a familiar face in the doorway. The woman greeted the face with a soft, welcoming laugh.
“Come in, Connie.” The woman said softly and Connie Van Zyl, the Guidance Department secretary stepped into the small office, her head down, looking at a folder.
“Your nine-fifteen is here…Petey Carlucci…he’s got that note you asked for and….” Connie interrupted her own thoughts as she noticed the woman behind the desk, saying simply,
“Son of a bitch…you’re doing it.” Connie laughed nervously and smiled, handing the folder to Diane Lambert, simultaneously the newest and second-most tenured counselor in the department behind Linda Calabrese, the department head.
“I’ll be honest with you, hon, I didn’t think you’d do it. Really.” She smiled once again and said,
“I’ll give you this, Dan, you’re a braver….girl than I am.” Connie chuckled. Diane looked at her and said,
“We’ll see how brave I am when everybody opens their mail this morning.” She smiled once again as Connie started to leave.
“Connie?” Diane said once again. Connie turned and faced Diane, wondering what she might say next.
“Thanks for everything…just in case?”
“Oh, Dan…Diane…let’s hope for the best!” Connie left the office. A moment later another knock came at the door.
“What is the meaning of this?” Phyllis Jensen stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips.
“Whatever do you mean,” Diane said softly, barely looking up from her desk.
“You know what I mean,” She said coldly. “Why are you wearing that?” Phyllis pointed with her outstretched arm in a broad gesture.
“Because it is too warm for a jacket?” Diane said calmly?
“No…you know what I mean…why are you wearing womens’s clothing?” Phyllis insisted.
"Because I’m a woman, Phyllis.” Diane remained calm. Phyllis took a step toward Diane’s desk.
“The school board is going to hear about this.” She said. Diane looked at her and reached for an envelope on her desk.
“The school board has already been informed. I anticipated that you would want to know, so here’s your copy.” Diane handed Phyllis the letter, but Phyllis ignored it and continued.
“I want to know what is going on, and I want to know now.” She demanded.
“Alright, Phyllis,” Diane said softly and calmly,
“Here’s the story, okay?” Diane began to read the copy of the letter on her desk.
“To whom it may concern. This letter will act as formal notification that my client, Ms. Diane Marie Lambert, with the approval and medical advice of her doctors, is entering into next phase of her Real Life Experience, commonly known as a ‘real life test.’” Diane looked a Phyllis and continued.
”She is under doctor’s care and has already completed prerequisite aspects of this requirement prior to her gender confirmation surgery. During this phase, Ms. Lambert will live and present herself as the woman she is. This letter is also to serve as notification that any attempt by the School Board of Milltown, Pennsylvania and/or their agents to interfere with Ms. Lambert’s legal rights under the laws of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania shall be met with legal action on Ms. Lambert’s Behalf. Respectfully, Amos Henderson, Esq., Attorney at Law…etc….”
“I don’t know about this…the school board should know about this.” Phyllis repeated.
“They already know…they received a letter identical to the one in your hand…the very same letter I just read to you.” Diane continued to speak softly and calmly, which only seemed to bother Ms. Jensen more.
“Well, I’m the principal here…” Diane calmly cut her off.
“Sorry, but I hate to disagree. Marion is the principal. You’re acting principal while she is on vacation and at the conference in Pittsburgh.” Diane smiled warmly, which served to fuel Phyllis Jensen’s anger.
“Never the less I am in charge.” Diane waved her hand and said,
“You are acting principal in name only. Any decisions regarding personnel have to go through her office and in her absence, the department head. As Linda is on maternity leave, that leaves someone in this department with seniority in charge. That would be me.” Diane smiled again. She knew somehow Trudy was reaching out to her, perhaps imbuing her with strength beyond the moment.
“I’m going to take this up with the school board.” Phyllis said once again.
“Feel free, but they’re going to be under the same constraint as you. Unless Marion is removed from her position, which she won’t be, any personnel decisions will have to wait until she returns next Friday, so the only thing left to say is …have a wonderful day, Phyllis.” Diane smiled warmly again, astounded at the courage she had just shown in the face of what she expected would be only the beginning of opposition.
Phyllis turned and walked out of Diane’s office, nearly knocking over a fifteen year old boy who had just transferred from another district. Petey Carlucci smiled at Phyllis and waved.
"You're coming with me young man," she said as she pointed the way across the hall to her office.
Petey Carlucci, most recently of West Chester, but before that a student of Draihoidel in County Sligo in 1626; Calleigh took a deep breath and entered the office.
A few moments later, in the office of Phyllis Jensen, Vice Principal...
"Well, young man?" Phyllis stared at Peter Anthony Carlucci, or rather his Avatar, to use an entirely overwrought expression.
"I'm trying to find your file, but it seems it's been misplaced." No sooner than Phyllis had uttered those words than a knock came at the doorway.
"This just arrived via FedEx, Ms. Jensen." Connie handed her the envelope. Phyllis opened it and found a fairly worn green folder containing Petey's school file. She nodded in acknowledgement and Connie left them alone. After a few minutes, Phyllis looked up and spoke.
"Well, Mister Carlucci, it seems as if you were a bit of a troublemaker at your last school. We won't have any of that here, mind you. You can be sure we will put an end to your 'activism."
"Excuse me, Ma'am, I may only be fifteen, but unless I read the Constitution wrong, you can't put an end to my exercise of free speech."
"We'll just see about that." She paused and looked down at the file before continuing.
"It says here you violated the dress code frequently while at your previous school." She frowned and shook her head as if he was a five year old.
"No, Ma'am, I merely chose to wear the clothing I prefer." Petey folded his arms and smiled warmly.
"It doesn't say here; a page is missing. What did you wear that violated the dress code." Phyllis looked at him askance, as if already doubting what Petey had to say.
"Nothing really. I actually wore age appropriate clothes....my mom bought them at J.C. Penney.
"Jeans? Tee shirts? Logo tee shirts are not permitted." She felt proud that she had helped to establish that rule.
"Oh, no Ma'am, I really don't care for tee shirts." He smiled, once again causing her to look askance at him.
"I actually like calf-length cotton gauze skirts...peasant blouses....boots... sandals, you know...pretty." He smiled once more.
"Well, we have several children here who are transgender. MInd you, we tolerate them as much as possible; we don't want the other students upset by their behavior or presentation." She smiled, but her tone was anything but welcoming.
"That's interesting, Ma'am, but I'm not transgender...I just like wearing dresses and skirts." Petey smiled one more time, and Phyllis became almost apoleptic.
"Well, Mister Carlucci, I must disappoint you. You aren't permitted to wear girls clothing if you're not transgender. That's not acceptable."
"According to whom, Ma'am?" Even as she uttered Petey's words, Calleigh thought to herself,
"This one is going to be difficult. I wonder why she feels so strongly?" Calleigh knew that folks rarely if ever formed a strong prejudicial opinion without some underlying belief.
"According to the dress code put in place last year by the Board of Education. You would be best served to remember that you don't have the right to wear just what you please. It's bad enough...." She broke off her sentence. She was angry that the board was already accommodating those children and she could see nothing but trouble if she indulged the boy in front of her.
"I expect you to report to class tomorrow morning dressed appropriately. Do I make myself clear, Mister Carlucci?" She stressed Mister yet again.
"Yes, Ma'am. I'll be dressed appropriately." Petey rose and nodded before exiting. As he left he; rather Calleigh, thought, "I think that went rather well."
A while later...
"Diane Lambert, Guidance department," she spoke softly into the phone. A smile crossed her face as she recognized the voice on the other line.
"Oh, hi, honey! No...I'm still alive. The tar and feathers don't seem to be anywhere in sight; maybe I'll make it to the end of the day after all. Yes...I could feel your prayers. No..yes...I am scared. This job...it's more than a job....yes...yes....I know....If God is for me...who can be against me....No...I know I should trust more, but this is so hard." She shook her head and paused, looking out the window.
"One sec, hon...just a moment, okay?" She bit her lip and put her hand to her face. Hopefully Phyllis wouldn't burst in and find her crying. Trudy was such a blessing, and just the sound of her voice and her encouraging words had brought her to tears.
"I'm sorry, honey....it's so hard....this is all so new and with not much help here...I know.... Maybe? The board hasn't called me, so I guess I still have a job...." Her voice faltered at the mention of the job. She really loved the kids she worked with. She was a fairly soft-spoken person, but recent events had brought her out of her shell; she worried that her boldness may have been to the detriment of the students.
"No...I know...maybe I should have waited...oh gosh, Trudy...what if I've been wrong all along... what? Yes, I know you love me....you really think it's the right time? I'm not...what?
Yes....yes...no, It's not about me, Trudy...it has to be about the kids...if my needs get in the way of the work....I'd leave...yes I would...." The thought of quitting was too much for her and she began to sob; she didn’t even notice she had disconnected the call. A few minutes later...
"Ms. Lambert? Diane?" A voice came from the doorway. Connie van Zyle leaned in and spoke softly.
"Hon? Diane?" Diane lifted her head from the desk.
"Trudy just called me...said you were having...anyway, she said she'll see you at home." Connie smiled warmly. She had a tremendous amount of respect for Diane, even though she only knew this part of her colleague for a few days. She stepped inside the office and closed the door.
"Connie...I'm so sorry...you're going to be in the middle of all this." Diane said as she wiped her face with her blouse sleeve.
"I've been through worse, and besides, you need all the help you can get." She laughed softly and stepped closer to the desk. Leaning over she put her hand on Diane's shoulder; an altogether foreign when Diane was Don, but it seemed so necessary and right.
"You're going to be fine, sweetie. Everything is going to work out. Your wife loves you; the kids just adore you....maybe even more than ever. And I've got your back.“ Connie walked to the window and lowered the shade. She did the same to the door window before returning to the desk.
"I'm going to hold all calls for a while. I want you to rest for a bit, okay. Power to the Sisterhood,” She chuckled and touched Diane lightly on the wrist.
"It's going to be just fine." She smiled and continued.
"Diane...Trudy said to tell you something else....Believe." She was out the door a moment later. Diane put her head down on the desk and wept.
A while later...at the Athletic Department...
“Hey, Boss, you hear what happened in Guidance?” Dave Ackerman stood at the doorway to Paul Giambrone’s office. Paul looked up from his planner and sighed. He knew, but he also expected he’d hear about it from Dave, no matter what he said. Dave didn’t wait for an answer.
“Lambert finally did it...he came to work...dressed as a....”
“I believe the word you’re searching for is woman, Dave.” Paul shook his head but resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
“Yeah...I just don’t get it. Why would he want to do that?” Dave laughed.
“Well, for one thing, it’s not he!”
“What do you mean, not he? This is a guy we’ve known for how many years? Of course he’s a ‘he.’”
“Dave...she explained in the assembly last year that she was a woman...that she had been dealing with this issue for a long time. I guess she decided to finally address the issue.” Paul shook his head once again and sighed. He had known Don Lambert since high school, and while they never were that close as teens, they developed an instant rapport when Paul was hired as the Athletic Director at the school.
“Best friends tell each other their secrets, right?” He thought. Apart from Trudy, no one really knew about Diane’s plans to “come out” besides Paul.
“Diane...” he thought; even as Dan's best friend, Paul found it hard to remember that names change at times like these. He treasured his friendships like gold, but this one had been special. Dan's ...now Diane’s ability to see through his defenses challenged him to change and grow; Paul would miss that now that ‘he’ was a ‘she.’
“I just don’t get it,” Dave was stuck. “It just doesn’t make sense.”
“Well, Dave, keep in mind that we don’t have to understand everything; some things we just have to accept as what is important or real for someone else. If you’re really having a hard time, you can always look at the circular the Board sent over last spring about transgender teens; it applies to adults. And our new Health text book has a whole chapter on it as well, okay?” Dave nodded but it was clear he still didn’t understand. Paul went out on a limb, which was going to prove to be very shaky.
“Bottom line? She’s a great person and a great counselor. She’s my best friend, and I trust her decision, even if I don’t understand it.” Paul didn’t mean to snap at Dave; he meant well as far as ignorant folks go, but Paul had grown tired of the constant carping by Dave and his fellow teachers regarding Diane Lambert.
“Take it easy, boss...I didn’t mean anything by it; I always liked the guy...I guess I’ll have to figure out how to like the girl, huh?” Dave shrugged his shoulders apologetically.
“You know, Dave...I think that there’s hope for you, yet.” Paul smiled and went back to his day timer as Dave left the office.
“Hope for me, too.”
At the Lambert home that afternoon...
“Hey, honey, how did it go today?” Trudy wheeled her chair up to Diane as she closed the front door. Diane gave her a peck on the cheek before laying her purse on the table in the hall. She watched as Diane walked down the hall way to their bedroom without comment.
“Honey? Diane?” It was rare but increasingly more frequent for Diane to hear her name. They usually exchanged ‘hon’ and ‘sweetie’ and the like, with an occasional ‘Di’ or ‘Tru’ thrown in, but she had hardly heard her name since her transition had begun. To be fair, Trudy rarely called her Dan before the process began, preferring dear or darling instead. She wheeled herself into the bedroom and found Diane on the bed, her face buried in a pillow, weeping.
“Oh, God, honey...Don’t....please...it’ll be okay...” Trudy pled with her as she wheeled up to the bed. She reached over and grabbed Diane’s left hand and squeezed. Diane turned her face toward her and sighed.
“I should have never started this. It’s going to take away from the kids and it really serves no purpose other than soothe my feelings. I’m so sorry...I...” Trudy squeezed her hand harder.
“Shhhh....shhhhh....no, Di...no....don’t do this.” She began to tear up; the pain in her face a mirror image of the hurt etched in Diane’s face.
“I’m...who am I trying to kid. This is so...selfish. Look what it’s done. I’ll probably lose my job. I’m of no good to them if I can’t be there. I should have just stayed the way I was. It would have been.”
“Diane...it would have killed you if you didn’t change. Even if you had never acted on it, you would have died inside.
“Oh, Tru...I’m so sorry,” she sobbed. Maybe the hormones were responsible; of course they might have added to an already difficult emotionally charged situation, but really, the tears and sobs were driven by untoward guilt and shame.
Diane had nothing to be sorry for; no more than any of us perhaps, but she had done nothing wrong, and was feeling condemned for finally acting on something that made her complete and more helpful and caring than ever.
“No...Stop this instant. I’ll not have you apologize for being who you are. Look at me, Di...look at me.” Trudy’s tone was angry, but of course wasn’t directed so much at Diane as at the guilt and shame behind her weeping. Diane lifted her head and looked into Trudy’s eyes.
“No...look here.” Trudy used her hand in a broad gesture to point to her as she sat in the wheel chair.
“What do you think of me? Of this?” She knew the answer. Their time together from the beginning had been marked by unconditional acceptance and encouragement.
“What? What do you mean?” Diane shook her head. Trudy smiled at her.
“Should I just give up? I mean...I’ll never walk...I’m not a whole person, Di. Should I just give up?”
“Oh, God, honey...no....of course not....You’ve been such a blessing...why would you say that?”
“Why would you say what you just said, Di? If you’re not redeemable then neither am I. If you should just stay in your pain and disappointment...then why shouldn’t I just give up? You’ll never be a real woman, and neither will I. We just have different lacks. We both fall short...we’re both flawed... incomplete.” By now Trudy was crying almost as much as Diane.
“Trudy...no...you’re not incomplete...you complete me…you make me whole...you make my life real and worth living. No...no, my God....you’ve given me life...” Diane reached over and pulled Trudy out of her chair and into bed.
“Then if I’m worth redeeming then so are you.” Trudy sobbed as she kissed Diane. They held each other tightly, almost as if the storm of the day threatened to sweep them away.
“You’re going to become who you have been all along. You are going to show them how much courage and heart you have, and that you have so much to give.... there’s nothing wrong with you...nothing, my dear sweet...” The two wept in each other’s arms. It had been a long day for both of them, but the evening would be filled with hope and joy and love.
Red is the Rose
And fair is the lily of the valley.
Clear is the water that flows from the Boyne
But my love is fairer than any.
The next morning...
The women gathered unseen near the couple as they slept; it was 4:30 am, and both had finally fallen into slumber after a very challenging day.
“What can we do for these precious dears, Calleigh?” Orla turned her head in deference to their privacy.
“Oh, it’s not for these, although they will go through a wee bit of trouble before the end of it all. It’s the poor woman who stands in the way of their happiness.
“Why then would we want to help her? I don’t understand.” Fiona stared agape as the older woman smiled calmly.
“Because, dear one, she’s sadder than you can know, and we have to see her through this...we’re all she has.”
“She’s been hurt, hasn’t she?” Orla asked, her head tilted a bit in question.
“Aye, that she has, and very much so. In fact, she’s almost at a point of hopelessness, although you wouldn’t know it by her actions.” Calleigh said calmly.
“Who will be workin’ with her?” Fiona asked.
“I’ve already started. You see I’ve a bit of understanding about her, and I hope that will guide me.” Calleigh sighed. It wasn’t often that she showed worry or concern; the tasks at hand always seemed to be in reach when she spoke, but she seemed earnestly worried about Phyllis.
“I’m afraid we may be a wee bit late, but I’m prayin’ that we’re not. There’s a lot of good deep down in that woman, and I mean to coax it out; or have it come out kickin’ and screamin’.”
“What would you have us do?” Orla asked with a smile.
“You’ll be workin’ on the other side, so to speak of the same coins Sinead and I are ‘minting’ if you don’t mind, ladies?” Calleigh asked the question even though she knew there wasn’t a disagreeable bone in either of their bodies.
“Orla...there’s a man in the school where Phyllis works...you’ve been there before. I’ll leave it to you to affect some nice but strong influence on his thinkin’, aye? He needs to understand that all of us have a right to live, and that means as we choose, not him, understand?” Orla nodded and winked with a sweet grin.
“And you, my dear old friend,” she said to Fiona, will be helpin’ Sinead with her charge. There’s an awfully sweet man who is very, very lonely and needs to discover his answers lie in real people and not tasks and helping and in the past, however well intended he may be. You’ll find that Sinead is approaching a very kind and helpful lady in the same manner.”
“The boy’s aunt?”
Fiona asked as she looked away; almost as if she could see their house.
“Aye... I do know that she doesn't seem kind, but she is helpful in her kindness, and Sinead knows better than anyone how big a heart the woman has, even if she doesn’t yet know it herself. So we’ll have our work cut out for us, but I am going to choose to believe it will all work out somehow.” The other women nodded before she added;
“And Fiona...no matter what you hear or see, trust that this is the right thing. The man is a very sad man, even if you never see it on his face, and his healing is going to through her’s.”
At school...first period health class...
Dave sat down behind the desk. He didn’t mind filling in for Paul, but today was going to be a particularly odd morning. He looked up to see his twenty-three charges walking in the classroom. But his eye was drawn to first one...then a second student who seemed out of place.
“Excuse me, girls...this is the boys health class, can I help you?” He asked as he walked around the desk.
“Nope, Mr. Ackerman...I’m in the right class.” A fairly familiar voice emitted from the taller of the two girls. She was dressed in a hip length pink and purple dress over purple tights with a black hip length sweater and black boots; not unfashionable for most girls, but she wasn’t ‘most’ girls.
“Mike McCarthy?” Dave put his hand to his face and almost did an aside to the class.
“Yes, Mr. Ackerman.” Dave knew about Mike’s brother, or rather, sister Patty, who was in the midst of transition, what ever that meant. He’d gotten the memo from adminstration last year.
“You...are you...” His words got stuck in his mouth as he shook his head.
“If you mean, am I like my sister? No, except in family name. I’m just showing some support for my friend here.” Mike pointed to the girl next to him.
“And you are?” Dave didn’t recognize the girl at all.
“I just transferred in last week.”
“I’m sorry, young lady, but you can’t be in this class.”
Dave tried to be kind, but this really stretched his patience, considering it wasn’t his class. He stared at her. She was what some might consider a bit geeky with a little goth thrown in for good measure. Her hair was a mousy brown, cut in a short shag. She had tortoiseshell barrettes on either side, and her hair was pulled back over one ear to reveal a single stud made of a small shell. She wore black ankle length boots and black tights under a calf length lace dress over a charcoal under-dress with a black hip length cardigan. And tortoiseshell glasses with half-lenses and a beaded eyeglass cable caused her to resemble a teen goth librarian.
“But this is my class,” the girl said, handing a paper to Dave. He looked at it and saw it was a class schedule for Peter Anthony Carlucci.
“What are you trying to pull?” Dave raised his voice.
“Nothing, sir. I just like these clothes.”
“Oh...so you’re just like Mike’s sister...oh…okay?” Dave hadn’t been able to wrap his head around the whole transgender thing, but he was trying.
“No, sir.”
“No, sir, what?” Dave shook his head.
“No, sir, I’m not a girl like Mike’s sister. I’m a boy, just like everybody else here.”
“Let me get this straight? You’re a boy...but you want to wear girl’s clothes?” The class started to laugh until Dave turned and glared. One by one the boys quieted down as he returned his attention to Mike and Petey.
“No, sir.”
“Now what... No, sir, what?”
“I’m currently garbed in girl’s clothing, so it’s not so much a matter of want as to like. I like to wear girl’s clothes.” Petey smiled, while his real self inside, Calleigh, the leader of the four women, resisted the urge to laugh at Dave. She realized he truly was trying to understand.
“You like to wear girl’s clothes? Okay...but that’s not permitted. You’ll both have to change.” He said firmly, but still trying to understand.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible.” Petey said.
“Why not? You’ll just have to go home to change.”
“I can’t go home. I have no transportation, and my mother is unavailable to pick me up,” he said, trying hard not to grin. Petey’s, rather, Calleigh’s mother was at home alright, but home was in County Sligo in Ireland, and at 835 years of age, she wasn’t much inclined to travel these days.
“Well, I’m sorry, but you’ll have to report to the principal’s office then until the end of the school day.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, but okay.”
“What about you, Mike?” He asked.
“Yeah, what about you? Mikey...Michelle? You a fag like your brother” Denny Colhane yelled from the back of the class. In a moment the boys were all laughing and pointing at the two boys. Mike turned a bit red, but maintained his composure.
“I’m with him,” he said and followed Petey to the door. Petey turned and said,
“Mr. Ackerman?”
“Yes, what is it?”
“You have a nice day, okay?” He smiled and the two walked out of class and down the hall.
And a very nearly invisible woman stood as Petey and Mike walked down the hallway. She nodded at Petey who used his eyes to point in the direction of the classroom. Orla nodded as well and peeked in and smiled.
Dave Ackerman grew angry; the boys had disrupted his class and he was determined get control.
"Shut up!" He didn't yell, but they got his message and quieted down. He opened the text to the assigned chapter only to discover the following;
The Transgendered Teen and Development
He shook his head and closed the text.
"Okay, guys, who watched the Celtics game last night." Orla stood silently and unseen in the corner by the door and shook her head.
Graceland Park Cemetery...
Paul stood and looked down at the ground. A simple plaque with roses on each corner lay at his feet.
Alice Katherine McGowan Giambrone - My Rose 1979-2006
“Happy Birthday, honey, I miss you so much.”
It had started to rain, and the drops mixed with his tears and fell off his face onto the roses he had laid next to her grave. He put his head down; the grief, while bearable, still pierced his heart like a spear even after nine years. He felt something on his shoulder as a nearly invisible woman whispered in strange but soothing words unheard by ear but heard by heart. Fiona smiled as the man put his hand to his face and wept harder, but in some strange sense of peace and relief.
(Couples)
Over mountain and sea is falling
Oh turn a stor and then you list
And maybe you will hear me calling
For the sound of a voice you will surely miss
Somebody speedily returning
A run a run won't you come back soon
To the one that will always love you
Late that afternoon...
“Hey...Paul...thanks for leaving me such a nice present this morning,” Dave tossed the text on the desk.
“I thought you’d like it.” Paul hadn’t planned it; the assigned reading involving gender issues was just the next chapter in line for review. Dave grinned.
“Well, I’m really not up on that gender stuff, so we just talked about the Celtics game last night.”
“I’m not surprised, Dave, but you’d learn more if you actually read the material. I’m sorry about dumping that in your lap; I had a personal matter to attend to. I’ll pick it up next class.”
“You missed something really strange. You know Mike McCarthy?”
Who didn’t? Mike was popular, even before the whole gender thing with his sister, Paul remembered. And Paul remembered Mike for another reason; he was well meaning, polite, kind, and altogether coasting through his last year in school. He was smart enough to get into college, but was settling on the local county school. Two year schools are great for kids with limited resources, especially when they’re discovering what they want to do. Mike could probably do anything he put his mind to, if only he was motivated.
“Something happen in class?” Paul turned his head sideways and winced at the odd grin on Dave’s face.
“You might say that. He and some kid showed up wearing dresses...dresses...” He laughed, but Paul didn’t follow his lead.
“I know.” Paul leaned back in his chair and smiled. “They asked me if they could and I said yes.”
“You know? And what the...you said yes??” Dave shook his head.
“Yeah...something to do with the Constitution.” Paul tried not to, but his shoulders shook a bit as he laughed softly.
“Seriously, the new boy, Petey? He came to me last Friday afternoon; apparently he’s a transfer, and he feels the need to express himself. I didn’t see anything wrong with it. I didn’t know that Mike was going to follow his lead until I read a note yesterday that he left under my door. Seems the two of them want to support Diane.”
“Oh, shit, no. You mean she’s behind this?” Dave said, looking out the window of the office door.
“Well, two things, Dave... First, no, she’s not behind this. It was the boys’ idea. And second, you should be proud of yourself.” Paul laughed softly and shook his head in wonder and just a little bit of relief.
“Why should I be proud of myself?”
“You just referred to Diane as ‘she.’ See, there’s hope for you yet. Welcome to the Twenty-First Century.”
“Well, Mr. Politically-Correct. You probably won’t like the fact that Phyllis Jenkins wants to see you and me and the boys in her office tomorrow afternoon. An impromptu parent-teacher conference that she called for; she’s pissed at you, at me...at the boys, and probably everybody else in school, considering that Marion is back next Friday and Phyllis goes back to being Assistant-Principal.”
“Temporary power corrupts temporarily?” Paul sighed.
“Anyway, it looks like this whole gender thing just hit the fan, and as far as I’m concerned, I’m keeping my head out of the way... and you’d better, too.” Dave noticed the frown on Paul’s face and continued.
“Look, I know you and she are friends and all, but when push comes to shove, it may mean your job. Are you willing to risk that over friendship?”
“That’s exactly what I intend to do.” He shook his head and half-smiled before fixing his gaze on the photo on his desk. The woman in the picture was smiling at him; almost as if she was approving of what he had just said. He smiled back before finishing,
“Some things are worth risking everything, Dave.”
At the McCarthy home later that afternoon....
“What do you mean; I’ve got to go to a conference?” Breena looked at the two boys and frowned.
“I’m sorry, Aunt Breena...but we sorta got into trouble for....” Mike pointed to their clothing. His mother Sinead, rather Janey in her mortal form, interrupted.
“It’s the plan, dear sister. Now you know that things are going to work out alright, don’t you?” Even understanding that the Draehoidel way was working for the good in the family, standing next to her erstwhile late but entirely animated sister still was difficult for Breena to get used to.
“Yes...I suppose. And this little one here? I’m supposed to be takin’ care of him and all, but he’s really not a kid, is he?”
“I’m not even a he,” Petey said, assuming the voice of Calleigh, the matriarch of sorts of the Women. Orla and Fiona were off influencing their charges, leaving her and Janey to work with the family.
“This is on behalf of this family, dear sister, and I know you trust me, even if it seems a bit...odd?” Janey smiled, leaving Breena only slightly encouraged.
“They want you down at school tomorrow afternoon to...discuss why your nephew is wearing girls’ clothes to school. And they sorta think you’re watchin’ out for Petey here since his mother isn’t available.”
“A fine thing...as if takin’ care of a marginally motivated nephew and a fairly new niece wasn’t enough? Well, fine. Just point me in the right direction and tell me what to say.” Breena shook her head.
“Well, that’s just it, sister mine. I’m not telling you a thing to say. In that, you’re on your own. You go to the school, and you’ll know what to say. I’ve every confidence in you that by the time the conference is over, everybody will know what’s what and who’s who and just how things should work out for all the McCarthy’s, aye?” Petey, rather Calleigh, nodded in approval as Breena shook her head once more before retreating into the kitchen, but not before saying,
“I expect that since you’re here, you two will be stayin’ for supper? You eat food, don’t you?” Janey turned to the others before turning back toward Breena, who stood with her hands on her hips in the kitchen doorway.
“I may be only recently deceased and Calleigh here may be centuries old, but we both still do so appreciate a fine meal, sister dear.”
Dave's apartment that evening...
Dave sat at his kitchen table, eating yet another meal by himself. He was anxious about the meeting the next day, and was barely able to finish dinner. He thought about what Paul had said about risk. He had nothing to risk because apart from his possessions, he really had nothing. His mother had died years ago and his father? Things hadn’t been right for a long time; not since his brother died. He was alone; or rather he felt alone. Orla was sitting at the table with him, unseen. She held his hand, even though he felt nothing, and she prayed for wisdom.
Paul's townhouse that evening...
Paul sat quietly in the living room; the lights were turned off and the sound of Dervish came softly from the CD player. It had been a long day, and he was revisiting the grief of the morning as he closed his eyes; ’s face filled his memory and he heard her soft voice singing as if she were sitting beside him. Fiona sat on the couch next to him, unseen. She had wondered if her actions were manipulative until she remembered a note she had found that afternoon in a book on Paul’s shelf at work.
Be happy and find someone who’s as cute as I am, Kate had written.
“You and I will have plenty of time to catch up, but for now, live your life, okay? I love you very much. I know I won’t ever need to remind you to remember me, Paul....Just remember to remember yourself, okay. Till we meet again. Katherine”
Fiona smiled at the thought of just how many souls would be crowded into Phyllis’ office tomorrow and she laughed loudly. She put her hand over her mouth to stifle the laughter until she remembered that Paul could neither see nor hear her, causing her to laugh even louder.
Phyllis' condo that evening....
Phyllis Jenkins sat in her apartment, her home aglow with light and the sound of rain from her laptop just low enough not to upset her neighbor. She was thankful for the corner apartment. She held the picture in her hands tenderly; an uncharacteristic gesture for anyone who didn’t know her. The boy in the picture was fourteen and the girl was only slightly older by a few minutes. The girl wore jeans and a knit purple top, nearly duplicated with the boy’s lavender top... her twin brother. She recalled the day the picture was taken.
“Listen, Eddie...I’ll do the talking, okay...you just stand behind me and crouch. They won’t know what hit them.”
“I hope so...I don’t know what I’d do if they got angry...you think this is okay?” The boy’s face was a mask of fear.
“Sure...Mommy and Daddy love us...What can they say? Trust me...it’ll be fine.” The girl patted her twin on the back.
It wasn’t fine.
“What the hell, Phyllis? Are you crazy? This is the stupidest thing you two have ever pulled,” the father said. She began to cry, matching the sad sounds coming from the boy on the couch beside her, who was weeping from the figurative and literal slap in the face from only moments before.
“Get up...get into the bathroom and take that shit off. No son of mine is going to act this way.” He faced the twins once more before turning his attention to their mother.
“This is your fault...you indulge him like...well you’re just too easy...”“Phyllis...honey...sit down....” Her mother had grabbed her by the hands as she walked in the door after school. She had barely gotten settled when her father walked into the living room, his face a mask of grief mixed with rage. He stood in front of them and glared before speaking.
“This is your fault...the two of you!” He stormed off as Phyllis turned to her mother in confusion.
“Honey....I....Eddie....he....” She collapsed in her daughter’s arms and wept. No need for explanation; the details of his death would follow soon enough. The family died that day. A father who left his family even while remaining as a rageful alcoholic. A mother who grieved for a dead son while neglecting her daughter. A twin who died in fear and hopelessness, leaving a sister who felt abandoned to a life of misplaced guilt and shame. And a girl who grew up feeling that she had to see things were done the right way...so that no one would ever feel the grief and shame and loss that she felt on her fifteenth birthday...
She looked again at the photo, twisted a bit from the broken frame, but still straight enough to display the smiles of two loving girls; frozen in time as nearly identical twins with two different futures. One brief and filled with doubt and rejection; the other long and painful while also filled with doubt and rejection. Phyllis reached down and picked up the photo from the floor and held it close to her chest and wept. And Calleigh put her hand on the woman’s right over her heart, her own eyes filled with tears as well, but tears of renewal and hope and love.
(Irreplaceable)
All her lovely companions are faded and gone
No flower of her kindred, no rosebud is nigh
To reflect back her blushes and give sigh for sigh
At school, the next day...
“Excuse me, can you tell me where the office is? I’ve a meetin’ to attend with my nephew, and I’m sorry but I’m just a wee bit late.” She was fifteen minutes early; Breena always wanted to be prepared; sometimes to the exclusion of her own needs. Paul smiled and used his arm to usher Breena out of the way as a cascade of students piled out into the hallway as the last bell rang.
“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to be so forward, but the halls here get a bit chaotic at the end of the day.” Paul smiled and Breena smiled back. She was being polite, most likely, since she hadn’t ever taken the time to notice anyone. But the return smile; almost like a volley in a tennis match, did her in. She shuddered; she hadn’t felt this way since she was twelve. It was lifetime and a gender ago, when Billy O’Casey kissed ‘him’ full on the lips. She recalled with a bit of nostalgia and irony that it was the only time she could remember the word ‘fag’ feeling like a complement.
“That’s okay...?” She tilted her head and Paul picked up on the gesture.
“Oh...I’m sorry, I’m Paul Giambrone. You must be Mike’s Aunt Breena. I’m pleased to meet you.” He smiled again and she turned away, red-faced. There still remained within her a feeling that she was somehow second-rate; a poser or pretender. Having spent most of her adult life raising her sister’s children from almost the time she had transitioned, she had little time for relationships with adults, much less romantic feelings, and this moment just served to reinforce just how inadequate she felt. Both of them needed someone...bad. They were complete without another in their lives, to be sure, but there just are some folks that should be with another.
Fiona, or rather Melissa Grabowski as she was ‘clad’ today, smiled at Orla, or rather Tommy Washington, a recent transfer from Pittsburgh. Tommy smiled back and ‘tripped,’ falling against Paul’s back; pushing him forward. Melissa dropped her Calculus book and in reaching down to pick it up, ‘stumbled’ against Breena, causing her to lose her balance. The resulting collision resembled the telephone scene in It’s a Wonderful Life, where George and Mary are pressed against each other; both looking uncomfortable and falling in love all in the same moment.
“I’m sorry...I can’t seem to move. Oh...you’re falling, here let me....”
“No...that’s alright...no...please.” Emotions can arise at the most inopportune moments. Paul had sworn, despite Kate’s instance, that he would never find another love. Breena looked everyday in the mirror above her dresser and wept silently to herself, consigned to living without love or even friendship; inauthentic and therefore unworthy. Both took notice of the other; possibly with a bit of magic, but really the only magic was that the two were such nice people, they really deserved each other.
“Oh...no...no...” Breena thought, believing as always that she was unlovable; suited for cleaning and cooking like an old maid servant. Paul looked into her eyes and saw the same sad kindness that filled his late wife’s countenance; her eyes filled with hope like Kate’s as well. He smiled and said quietly,
“I’m sorry...” He helped her stand as the crowd in the hallway. “You know? It’s really odd that we so often ask for forgiveness for something as normal and pleasant as making contact with another human being. Having said that, I apologize if I have in anyway made you feel uncomfortable.” She looked up into his eyes and something brand-new and wonderful took place. So profound that Melissa Grabowski and Tommy Washington began to tear up at the sight.
Paul took Breena’s hand and led her into the office across the hall. It was only after a few seconds that both of them noticed that he had yet to let her hand go. And without even thinking, he squeezed her hand as he released it; almost as a way of welcome. Melissa Grabowski stood across the hall and sighed. Tommy Washington seemed to have disappeared as Alice Noonan, the newest member of the custodial department, made her way toward Phyllis Jenkin’s office...
A short while later...
“Oh...hello, Dave. The others have yet to arrive. Why don’t you have a seat?” Phyllis seemed abrupt. The past twenty-four hours had been unkind to her; leaving her with little sleep and a lot of emotion to deal with. Dave smiled, noticing her expression, which he rightly attributed to being tired. Just how tired he was about to find out. She had just sat down when a knock came at her office door.
“Beggin’ yer pardon,” Alice Noonan said, poking her head through the open door way.
“I’m sorry this has taken so long, but the work order only got to me a few minutes ago...”
“I’m sorry? What is this about?” Phyllis snapped.
“Oh, please excuse me. The broken lock on your door? I’ve got to get it fixed before I leave; my supervisor said to make sure it’s repaired before tomorrow.” She shrugged as Phyllis shook her head.
“I’m sure it’ll be okay,” Dave said. He turned to Alice and nodded with a finger to his lips to encourage her to be quiet. Alice nodded back and closed the door quietly. She proceeded to remove the door handle and set it on the desk outside Phyllis’ office just as the fire alarm went off; signaling a fire drill. No one liked impromptu fire drills, especially at the end of the day.
“Oh, Christ...that’s all I need.” Phyllis got up with a start and walked quickly to the door. She pulled at the door handle to turn it and it came off in her hand.
“Oh, hell.”
She looked out the small window in the door and saw that no one was in the suite outside. The alarm continued to sound. Dave noticed her anxiety and offered his assistance with a wave. She nodded and stepped back but her heel caught on the carpet and broke, sending her into Dave’s arms. Phyllis was always professional; virtually unemotional...even when her cat died. But remembering Eddie had taken a huge toll. She looked down at her broken heel and burst into tears the culmination of an absolutely horrible day. He helped her to the chair in front of her desk.
“It can’t be that bad.” Dave quipped. He really didn’t understand, but he wasn’t all that slow on the uptake either. Phyllis put her head in her hands and continued to weep.
“Gosh, Ms. Jenkins...Phyllis...what’s...it’s only a fire drill...we’ll be out of here in no time.” He half-smiled while looking over at the door. She was never one to ‘share’ her feelings. But today was not a normal day. She had planned the meeting to confront the boys about their behavior in dressing ‘up’ for class. But the more she thought about Petey and Mike, the more it made her recall her brother Eddie. And the more she remembered her brother, the more convicted she felt about her feelings toward ‘those’ kinds of boys; the kind that dress in girls’ clothes and kill themselves out of despair and hopelessness. She began to shake almost violently as Dave shook his head, not knowing what to do.
“Gosh, Phyllis...is there anything I can do? I can see this isn’t about anything here and now.” It almost sounded like a stupid question; Dave’s reputation as being obtuse and insensitive was really unfair. He sighed out of frustration as the woman continued to weep; a little softer and the shaking had subsided. A moment later she began to speak.
“Dave....Have you ever felt...” She shook her head. “Guilty?”
He knew immediately how she felt; not only because he was perceptive, although, again, he wasn’t as ‘dense’ as everyone supposed. But he also knew how she felt because he felt guilty too.
“Yes...all the time.” More candid than he had ever been with anyone, it was as if after years of bottling up his feelings and beliefs, the pressure was being released like the steam valve on a radiator. He smiled at her, a knowing smile; not happy but a smile that says ‘I understand completely.’ She tilted her head and frowned at the frustration of the day until he began.
“When I was fifteen, my brother Jimmy came to me and told me he had a secret. You know how brothers keep secrets...how we’re supposed to protect each other? I told him I had his back.” Dave bit his lip at the memory. Phyllis put her head down, fearing where this was leading; a dread that he was leading her down a very famiilar and painful path.
“’Davey...don’t...please don’t tell anyone.’ He begged me, you know?” Dave’s voice broke and his eyes began to shed big tears.
“No...Dave...please...you don’t have to.” Phyllis didn’t know the story, but she recognized the look in his eyes, the same that greeted her every morning and ushered her to bed on sleepless nights.
“I have to...I’ve never told anyone...ever.” He looked over at the door; almost hoping someone would break it down and give them both a reprieve.
“He told me. Phyllis...and I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone.” He shook his head.
“Daddy got pissed off that the lawn wasn’t mowed and he wasn’t a soft man...you know? He pulled out his belt and was gonna hit me...” Dave choked back a sob. Phyllis shook her head. She was still crying, but part of her took in every word he was saying; even the ones he had yet to speak.
“I yelled, ’Jimmy wants to be a girl...he told me...he dresses when nobody’s home.’ Daddy’s eyes got wide and he looked at me like he was grateful...like I did him a big favor. And then he beat me anyway ...harder than I ever got beat before. I swear to God...I didn’t think he’d do it...but he did...My beating was like a fucking picnic...oh gosh, I’m sorry...it was like...easy....He put Jimmy in the hospital.” Dave put his head down, almost as if he was only into the first chapter of a horror story. He lifted his head and the look on his face was one of sheer grief.
“Jimmy...Mommy found him in our room the day after he got home from the hospital....” Dave said, but choked back a sob and finished.
“You know what the old man said? ‘I hope you’re fucking satisfied!’ Me...” Dave looked at Phyllis and saw the woman had stopped crying and was staring at him in disbelief.
“I’m so sorry...you didn’t need to hear that...I am so sorry.”
“Dave...” She spoke softly as she looked into his eyes.
“You were a kid...” She paused as the words that she spoke to give him solace and forgiveness pierced her own heart.
“I...I was a kid...” She shook her head as the tears came once again, but finally in a wave of forgiveness and relief. For the first time in either of their lives, someone understood; someone accepted them and someone understood. Dave grabbed her hand and squeezed and wept.
Orla and Fiona stood over the two, their own eyes filled with tears; tears of intercession and concern as they tended to a pair of broken hearts that were only just now beginning to heal.
Calleigh appeared out of nowhere as the locked door opened on its own. She stepped beside the two and placed her hand gently on Orla’s shoulder. Orla turned and spoke.
“This is just the beginning, isn’t it?” Calleigh nodded with a tearful smile and said,
“Aye...just the beginning.”
At the Lambert home...that evening...
Diane folded draped the blazer over the chair and tossed her blouse in the hamper by the bathroom door. She looked over and noticed Trudy staring at her. Her face grew warm and she turned away quickly.
“What’s that all about?” Trudy wheeled her chair close and grabbed Diane’s hand.
“I...” Diane half-smiled at her before turning away once again.
“You’re...very pretty.” Trudy tugged at her slip, pulling it a bit down off her hip.
“Stop...” Diane snapped.
“No,” Trudy snapped back; an uncharacteristic tone rose in her voice.
“I won’t stop. I said you were pretty because you are. You make me feel alive...I can’t believe sometimes that you’re in my life.” Trudy pulled at her hand softly.
“Maybe before...but now? I’m stuck between two worlds, Tru...like you got stuck with an irregular off the rack.”
“Diane.” Trudy said it emphatically, as if Diane wouldn’t recognize her own name. Her mate turned and shook her head.
“No...you don’t deserve this...you deserve...” Diane turned away and choked back a sob.
“What...a husband? I had a husband once...who turned out to be the most beautiful person I knew...the most precious woman I know...your heart is mine, dear...I love you. I don’t know how many times I can say it before you’ll believe the words. Look at me,” Trudy pulled again at Diane’s hand and Diane stood still.”
“Damn it, Diane...Look at me.” Diane turned to see Trudy’s face; a mask of anger and sadness mixed together.
“It stops now... the doubting...the questions? You’re who you are...not what they say or think...no even what I say...but what you’ve known all along, Diane Lambert! You’re my love and my life, and I will not have you running yourself down ever again, ever!” Trudy began to sob. Diane stooped down and grabbed the wheelchair arms, facing Trudy.
“Oh, dear God, I am so sorry....” Diane put her head in Trudy’s lap as her wife began to stroke her hair.
“No more, honey...If you can’t trust my words, trust my heart. I am blessed beyond measure and you have nothing to be ashamed or sorry about. I love you.... I have since we met and I will never stop believing in you. Okay?” Trudy squeezed the back of Diane’s neck as an almost punctuation to her words. Diane looked up and nodded.
“I need you...let’s go to bed.” Trudy leaned forward and kissed Diane’s head.
Quite a while later they lay side by side, nearly spent in amorous bliss. Both seemed to glow. Trudy cuddled close to Diane and began to sob. Diane turned over and held her close and kissed her breasts, returning sob with sob as they fell into each other; loving and loved as much if not more than the day they first wed. The same dear hearts and yet so different in so many ways...including one new way neither had ever anticipated.
“Diane...honey?” Trudy gasped even as her wife continued to kiss and fondle and caress. Diane paused, her hand on Trudy’s cheek, softly wiping away her tears.
“Yes?”
“I’m beginning to feel something...down there...it’s not like a touch...an aura? A warmth? I don’t know, but I think...Hold, me honey.” She continued to cry as Diane kissed her face over and over, almost in reverence.
“Honey?” Trudy spoke once again; a lilt that almost laughed.
Diane would always treasure the sound of Trudy’s voice, but that moment became a moment in time where they felt as close as they ever had. Trudy still wept, but the look of joy on her face beamed brighter as she said softly,”
“Honey....Dr. Levine called today....we’re...we’re going to be....Mommies.”
(Love of My Heart)
You're the fairest that my eyes have ever seen
And if ever I go home, it's from you I never will roam
You're my own native land so far away
You're my own native land so far away
Moments later...
The sound of the fire alarm caught the two by surprise. Paul quickly grabbed Breena by the hand and ushered her out the door, into the hallway and quickly thorough the exit into the parking lot in the front of the school.
"Probably a drill." Paul said as he looked over the crowd of students still walking out of the building.
"Mr. Giambrone?" Breena spoke up; a soft brogue only hinted at earlier became more apparent as she nervously continued,
"Yoo've stell got me hand in yours." She blushed at the words as he let go, his fingers lingering only a short while before he raised his hand.
"You kids have to move back and give these guys room to get out." He quickly forgot the moment and assumed his responsibility. After about fifteen minutes, the all clear was given and the students made their way back into the building only to be turned around for the late dismissal as several teachers ushered them toward the waiting school buses and to the parking lot. Paul turned around and was disappointed to find Breena had left. And he was surprised to find he was disappointed.
The McCarthy home...later that afternoon...
Michael sat down in the living room, his feet free from the calf-high boots, which he had borrowed from his sister Patty. His longish hair remained pulled back in a short pony-tail and the traces of the days makeup were nearly wiped off, leaving his eyelids looking merely smudgy rather than made up. He sat back and sighed; feeling disappointed for the first time in a long while with himself; a good thing but troubling none the less.
“Would you be wanting something to drink, Michael?” His Aunt Breena said as she passed through from the front porch to the kitchen.
“That would be very nice, Aunt Breena…thank you.” He watched her walk to the fridge from the open doorway and something struck him; something he hadn’t noticed before. Only a few months ago, he had learned that she had started out…not as his aunt, but as his mother’s brother; her only sibling.
From that point on, there was an almost tension between him and her; as if he was testing her to see if she was ‘authentic.’ He sighed as something touched him in a way that made him realize that it wasn’t his place to judge her; neither as her nephew or even as another human being.
“Will a bottle of water do? We have cranberry juice as well?” She called.
“Water is fine.” He called back. She walked into the living room with two bottles and offered him one as she sat down. She looked very tired and somewhat upset.
“Aunt Breena, can we talk?” He half- smiled, hoping that she had the time and the energy; he had been wanting to talk with her for several days, but the events of the week seemed to spur him into a greater urgency.
“Sure, Michael…”
The last few months had changed her as well. The past few years had been a struggle for them all with Michael and Patty’s mother finally coming home only to die. That she was resurrected as an immortal woman of the old Arts made things all the more intriguing, but it was really her revelation of who their aunt had been that caused things to change.
“Michael…I think it’s really kind and brave of you to stick by that woman at your school.”
“I think that’s sorta what I wanted to talk with you about, Aunt Breena…if that’s okay?” He pulled back a bit, fearing he’d crossed some sort of line. Her smile indicated otherwise and he continued.
“I think it’s not just because Mom is doing her magic thing….it helps to know she’s helping Patty, but really, it’s because of you that I’m doing this.” Breena peered at him in confusion.
“You…you’ve been such an example to me and Patty…you know?” She shook her head and gasped,
“No…not me…your mother…she’s the one….”
“No…seriously…you’ve…”
“Now don’t go startin’ with me, Michael. I’m nothing special...”
“No! Please stop…I have to get this out, please?” He got up from the chair in the corner and walked over and sat down on the couch next to her, grabbing both of her hands. It was the most physical contact he had with her in years, and it showed as she went to pull away.
“No…please….listen…I have to say this…for both our sakes and for Patty as well.” He smiled at her and she turned away slightly, looking down.
“Aunt Breena…my Mom….she gave me life, and I’ll always be grateful to her…we’ve talked, and she understands what I’m about to say.”
“No…Michael…don’t…I can’t…” Breena knew where he was going with this, and it felt wrong. She was wrong…inauthentic…a pretender. She wasn’t an emotional woman from what he remembered because she hid her tears and her heartache. But this time she couldn’t, since he wouldn’t let go of her hands.
“Ever since she started going away…and when Daddy never stayed…you were the one who took care of me and Patty….when she cried all the time after the kids started teasing her…when I broke my arm and couldn’t play baseball…when Mommy would promise and not come home…you held my hand and dried my tears. You showed Patty how to be a girl.” She winced.
“Yes…you….you were the one who helped her see who she was…the one who held her at night when she had fears and doubts. You’re the one who showed me how to be kind and caring, even as you pretended you weren’t…My Mom may have given birth to us, but you’ve been our mother all along, and you need to know that.” For only the second time in his life, Michael saw his Aunt cry. He touched her cheek.
“Please, Michael…I don’t deserve this.” She began to sob. He gathered her into his arms and spoke softly.
“I don’t know how to say stuff like this, but I have to say something, ‘cause I think you need to hear it. You’re just as much a woman as any woman I know, even Mom. You’re talented and resourceful and clever. You have a great sense of humor.” She shook her head but smiled a bit at the last part.
"Knowing about you what I know now? You're the bravest person I know, Aunt Breena ... really." She continued to sob and pulled against his embrace, but he wouldn't let go.
“And you’re pretty…one of the prettiest women I’ve ever met, really.” He was exaggerating only a wee bit as relatives do, but he recalled that when he was little, he had a crush on his her. At one time that would have made him feel uncomfortable, knowing her past, but now…it was something that brought them closer; a special bond between nephew and aunt.
“Michael…I’m not…you don’t know what you’re saying.” She argued, even as the tears continued to flow.
“And I’m not the only one, Aunt Breena…you know who I’m talking about…” He wasn’t trying to tease at all, but she was still too sensitive and too self-critical to receive any complement regarding herself. She stood up and ran to her room, slamming the door, not in anger, but in embarrassment and shame. Michael wiped the tears out of his own eyes, weighing whether or not to follow her and continue his attempts to encourage her. As he stood up, he noticed his sister leaning against the kitchen doorway, her own eyes filled with tears.
“Michael…that was the sweetest thing you’ve ever done…I am so proud of you, big brother. But I think I should go talk to her now, okay?” He looked toward her bedroom before nodding reluctantly.
“You may look like a girl right now…and that’s nice and all, but I think it’s better if I have a girl-to-girl talk with her.” She took a few steps toward him and kissed him on the cheek, causing his blushed cheeks to grow redder before she said,
“I think the copper eye shadow suits you just fine!” She laughed before kissing him again. She turned and walked slowly to Breena’s bedroom door and knocked softly.
"Go away, please..." Breena called from inside. Patty tested the door and found it wasn't locked. She knocked softly on the inside of the door as she leaned into the darkened room
"Aunt Breena...please...may I come in?" Even as she asked, she had entered and stepped closer to the bed where Breena lay crying.
"I don't want to talk...please, Patty." It was surprising. At one time, Breena would have been abrupt and dismissive, but the last few months had proved that she was not an angry woman, but a scared woman whose defenses had been shredded as she moved closer and closer to the truth about herself; her discovery was painful but necessary. Her guard was still up but about to topple.
"I'm not here to talk, Bree..." A bit familiar for a girl to call her aunt, but it felt right, and it was what she needed to hear as her niece sat on the bed.
"I'm here to cry." The girl lay on top of her prostrate aunt and began to weep.
"I love you, Mom...." She kept saying it over and over, and nearly every time, it was answered by,
"No...no me...I don't deserve this...no." Breena cried harder than she ever had as her niece's tears were cleansing and healing. The girl kissed her over and over like a little child kisses her mother, for Breena was truly her mother, if not in name, certainly in reality.
"I love you." The girl sobbed, nearly matching the intensity of her aunt's weeping, but the intensity was not in the shadow of sadness that the two shared in common, but in the light of healing that both were bringing about in each other. And at the doorway, it was Michael's turn to weep in witness to the miracle that was taking place in his own family; not with magic, but with real live love and acceptance and healing.
Paul Giambrone's home...that night...
He sat in the dimly lit living room. In his hands he held a picture; the last picture taken of Kate and him together. She looked playful with his old Phillies' cap covering her hairless scalp. Even though she was near the end, the life in her eyes shown out almost like a beacon in the darkened room. He put his hand to his face and wept; mostly from lingering grief, but some from a feeling of guilt. As he wept, two figures stood close by, both crying softly in unison with the man before them. Fiona held the other woman's hand and nodded in encouragement. The woman stepped next to Paul and leaned over, whispering softly in his ear,
"I love you...don't feel bad...she's nice...just like I hoped she'd be. And it's time." As the tears rolled off of his face, he felt something; almost like a kiss, brush his cheek. He looked once again at Kate's face and nodded as he thought he heard the words in the back of his mind,
"It's time...."
(Miracles)
And find the land that faith will bring,
The brightest star in the evening sky
Is your love waiting far for me
At school…the next day…
“Mike? You got a minute?” Even Paul had to laugh a bit to himself. Petey (or rather, Calleigh in her mortal coil) convince Mike to wear a knit knee-length gray dress with a maroon shawl over black leggings and black ballet slippers, leaving him looking like an art student.
“Hey, McCarthy…you busy Saturday night?” Vinnie Crocetti yelled from down the hall, leaving Mike blushing. Paul shook his head and motioned for Mike to come into the temporary haven of his office.
“Hey, Mr. G…” Mike put his head down in embarrassment. He wanted to do the right thing, whatever that called for, and between what he had witnessed the night before with his aunt and the knowledge of Ms. Lambert’s need for support, a little teasing was worth going through.
“First, what happened? I understand we don’t have a meeting with Ms. Jenkins after all?”
“She called up Aunt Breena last evening and said she wasn’t going to be opposing our wearing these clothes. When my aunt asked her what had happened to change her mind, she just said she couldn’t talk. What’s going on, Mr. G?”
“I don’t know, but I’m glad of it. Diane is dealing with a whole world of opposition from the school board as it is, and your support is going to mean something…I’m sure of it.”
“She means a lot to you, doesn’t she?” Mike asked, quickly adding, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get so personal.”
“That’s okay, Mike. We stood up for each other at our weddings. My wife Kate and she went to grad school…She and Trudy were there for me when Kate passed.” Paul sighed. At any other time in his life, he would have remained guarded enough to just nod at Mike’s question, but now, with things changing inside?
“Mr. G? What was it you wanted? I’ve got to get to class.” Mike looked at Paul, who seemed lost in thought. He turned away for a moment before answering.
“Mike…I…Would you….” He hesitated.
“Whatever it is, Mr. G. I’m sure it’s okay.”
“No…I’m sorry, Mike, but I have to do this. You’re the man of the house, right?” It was oddly amusing since Mike was dressed more like the woman of the house. Mike nodded in embarrassment.
“Listen, Mike…what you’re doing for Ms. Lambert? It takes a real man to be considerate enough to put himself out there for her…and your sister, of course.”
Mike looked away and bit his lip. It was for another, but he didn’t have to know that, did he?
“I wanted to ask your permission to call on your aunt.” Mike’s face went pale, which was a stark contrast with his previous complexion.
“I’m sorry, Mike…I shouldn’t have..I presumed too much.” Paul shook his head in disappointment.
“No…Mr. G. no…it’s okay…you just took me by surprise. I think….I’ll ask her if it’s okay. If she says yes, it’s absolutely great with me and Patty…I’m sure!”
“Oh…okay. That’s the right thing to do. I…I’m really…” Paul stopped in mid-sentence. It was awkward having the conversation, since Mike was not only Breena’s nephew, but he was a student, and it might be considered inappropriate.
“She’s the best, Mr. G.” Mike smiled awkwardly before shaking Paul’s hand. He wasn’t about to say anything about his aunt without her permission; better yet; he’d leave it to her to tell him about herself. It did worry him, however. Having a transsexual for a friend or student was one thing. How would Mr. G. handle courting one?
“Hi, Mike.” A soft voice called from behind. He turned to find his ex-girlfriend standing in the hallway across from where he stood.
“Oh…hi Doreen.” He smiled nervously and put his head down.
“I think what you’re doing for Ms. Lambert is sweet.” She stepped closer and touched his arm.
“I think you look great in maroon, too.” With that she brushed his cheek with her hand and was off down the hall, leaving him dazed.
Phyllis Jenkins’ office….that afternoon…
“Ms. Jenkins? Do you have a moment?” Phyllis looked up to see Dave Ackerman standing in her doorway.
“Yes?” She sounded cold.
“I wanted to thank you for yesterday.” He smiled; warmer than usual and not with a silly comment or joke.
“What do you mean?” She looked at him blankly.
“I’m sorry?”
“I don’t know what you’re referring to?” She said curtly.
“You were very candid about yourself; I needed to talk to someone about my brother.”
“Oh…you’re welcome, of course.” She put her head down and shuffled some papers on her desk. Dave looked at her in confusion. She raised her head slightly.
“I’m sorry, but I have work to do here; if there’s nothing else?” She looked at him, but there was no focus in her eyes.”
“Phyllis..what’s going on?”
“I don’t know what you mean, and I’d rather you referred to me as Ms. Jenkins, please.” She put her head down and shuffled the papers once more.
“Sure…whatever you say…” Dave shook his head and walked away. A moment later Connie Van Zyle knocked on the door.
“Ms. Jenkins? I’ve off to my dental appointment. Is there anything I can do before I leave?”
“If you wouldn’t mind. Please close the outer door and turn off the lights?” Phyllis managed a smile.
“Sure thing.” Connie nodded and turned off the lights as she left. Phyllis waited until she heard the door close before setting aside the paperwork. She grabbed the picture frame from her desk and stared at the photo; recently repaired and placed in the new frame. Two girls….nearly identical save for the short hair of the younger….the baby sister by seventeen minutes. She placed the photo in front of her on the desk before placing her head on her arms and weeping.
That evening…at the McCarthy home…
“Patty….you got a second?” Mike sat on his bed. Patty stepped inside and smiled.
“I see you took my advice about the eye shadow.” She laughed. “We girls have to stick together.”
“Funny!” He actually enjoyed the very rare foray into his feminine side; he had tested out at ‘only’ fifty-four percent masculine in one of those on-line gender exams. But he really had learned to understand a bit more about himself when he had been transformed into a Woman of Draehoidel months ago when called upon to help his then ‘brother’ Paddy with ‘his’ transition.
“I’m really glad you’re hanging in there. It really…it touches me that you’d do this to support Ms. Lambert.” Patty sighed and blinked out some tears.
“It’s not just for her, you know?” He turned his head away.
“I know…and I love you for that. Can I ask a question?” She smiled.
“Sure….what?”
“You ever wonder…you know…after last year and all? I know you still like girls.”
“Yes….I do.” He breathed out a heavy sigh.
“But what about this?” He was still wearing his outfit from the afternoon and she pointed to his clothing.
“What about it?” He said defensively.
“Do you wonder what it would be like…to be like me or Aunt Breena?” She laughed softly, which only served to make him feel more uncomfortable.
“No!” He practically yelled. She looked at him and sighed. Sitting down on his bed, she pulled his face around gently and spoke.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to, Mike…I understand.”
“It’s not that…If I could just be and do what I want whenever? I like who I am…I really do, but this part of me?” He pointed to himself with his hand.
“It’s a lot more a part of me than I knew…and I didn’t need some online exam to tell me that. It’s just…” He put his head down and started to cry.
“What, Michael? What’s wrong?” She lifted his head gently and held his face with both her hands.
“You don’t have to be like me to be kind and gentle….you’re the best brother any girl could ever hope for, and it that means being a brother most of the time? You don’t have to change on my account.”
“It’s like…I wondered..is this who we are…what I’m destined to be? It scares me, Patty, it really does.”
“Just like being a boy scared me, Mike…I understand. You are who you are, and you’ll do what’s best for you. It really breaks my heart to see you struggle when you’ve been such a blessing to me. You’ll be just who you need to be; a strength for me and Aunt Breena. And maybe someone I can confide in about my fears…you know? I’m still so scared about all this; how people look at me and treat me. You make it all better at the end of the day, okay?”
“Okay….” He put his head down again, prompting her to lift it softly one last time.
“And we can go shopping for gowns for the prom, okay?” She teased.
“Now…what was it you wanted to talk about?” She rubbed his back.
“Mr. Giambrone wants to….” He breathed out a heavy sigh and shook his head.
“No…really?” Her eyes grew wide with acknowledgment. After her talk with Breena the night before, she knew something was up.
“He wants permission to ask her out.” Michael looked down at himself once again and began to laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“I don’t know…Is this a suitable outfit, or should I change into something more formal if I’m going to be entertaining suitors for my Aunt?”
“I guess we’d better talk to Aunt Breena, aye?” She said in a pretend brogue.
“Aye, that we should, dear sister, that we should,” he said before they both started laughing. Mike looked up and saw Breena standing in the doorway with some mail. She shook her head once before walking away in tears. Mike sat there for a moment, expecting Patty to take care of things, but she turned to him and said,
”I think this needs a man’s touch, Mike.” She sighed and then looked at him again. Despite the awkward seriousness of the moment, they couldn’t help themselves and burst into laughter. They quickly calmed down before Patty finished,
“You know, Mike…it was silly, but I think you being dressed this way…I don’t think you should change…just go talk to her. I think it might help…I don’t know, but she needs you, but she also needs you to understand, and I think this will help, okay?”
“Okay…wish me luck…”
“Aunt Breena?”
“Go away, Michael…”
“I can’t…you’re hurting, and I made that happen. I am so sorry. We weren’t laughing about you…please.”
“I know that, Michael…it’s the other part…I….tell your teacher I can’t see him.
“No, Aunt Breena…at least until you hear me out, okay?” He leaned his head against the door in frustration.
“I can’t imagine you saying anything that will change my mind, but go ahead…make it quick.”
“Will you at least open the door.” He said softly as he rapped on the door frame. A moment later she opened the door.
“Please be kind to yourself. I don’t know why I’m saying this other than that it’s very selfish and the only reason I can come up with.” She looked at him and his face was red and he had begun to cry.
“Mikey…what’s wrong?”
“I want you to be happy….just as much if not more than you’ve made our lives happy, Aunt Breena. If anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you! And….”
“I know what you’re gonna say, Mike, and I appreciate all that he’s doing for his friend and how he’s supported Patty all along, but datin’ a girl like me is something else entirely.”
“I know that…but if you never try…you’ll never know…and you’ll be kickin’ yourself, like you always say…in the wonderin’ ifs.” His tears had abated somewhat, but he still cried as he stepped closer. It was indeed an odd moment, but at that instant, Michael had truly become the man of the house as he pulled her in and hugged her, kissing her on the cheek.
“Please, Aunt Breena…please…for me…for Patty…for yourself…okay?” Maybe it was the odd mixture of her nephew standing there in the knit dress…the one he had borrowed from her; but he was truly the man of character the family had hope for him to be; even as part of his other side was coming to the fore as they say. She looked at him with pride and her resolve melted away as she burst into tears.
“It’s okay, shu shu shu,” He said, holding her tight as she wept harder than she ever had in her life. The boy who was almost a girl became a man (and perhaps a woman as well?) stroked her hair and cried along with her. A moment later they were joined by Patty as Michael grabbed her hand and placed it in Breena’s.
“I think it’s going to be okay!”
Paul’s home…
“Well, sweetie…I don’t know…she’s awfully nice…I really need your help on this…” Paul stared at the photo of Katy and him on their honeymoon; all wool and corduroy bundled up and warm on a walk in the hills.
“I don’t want to let go…you know? It feels like I’m betraying you, but this was your idea, remember.” He put his head in his hand and began to weep. Once more, like a soft breeze, a presence entered the room…two in fact. Fiona held Kate’s hand as she visited one last time. She stepped close and kissed his cheek and touched his heart.
“I love you, Paul…and I love her…for being here. Dia duit, my fair love…Di duit.”
Hope Has a Place
It weaves a web over mystery,
All ravelled threads can rend apart
For hope has a place in the lover's heart.
Hope has a place in a lover's heart.
At the Lambert home that evening
“Honey…you got a letter from the school board…I’m sorry, but I opened it up.” Trudy’s eyes began to tear up. Diane had just returned from her support group. She sat down on the couch and hugged her wife.
“I know…I got one at school too; I guess they wanted to make sure I knew how they felt.” She tried to laugh, but her heart wasn’t in the mood.
“This is so unfair…” She put the letter down on the couch and glared at it. “A review of your performance has been submitted to the board?” What does that mean?
“It means they’re trying to back-door a dismissal for cause; this way they don’t even have to deal with my gender issue. They can let me go just because they feel I haven’t been doing my job.”
“But you have been doing your job…I can talk to any family of any kid you’ve worked with in the past four years and find someone who will testify to that.” She sighed and her tears came stronger as she realized the irony of what she just said.
“Damn it, Diane…this is like a trial…they can’t do this!” She protested.
“According to the board, they can. And since it’s a personnel matter, they can keep the hearing private; no ‘witnesses’!” Diane fought hard but her own tears began to flow.
“This hurts more than angers me….what have I been doing all these years? Have I wasted my life? Am I wrong for what I’m doing now? It calls my whole being into question.”
“Diane Lambert…don’t you dare say that. You are a gift to me and to the kids…you were made for this…helping kids discover themselves. And if you discovered yourself along the way…we’re all the better for it. I know I am.! She gave her a tearful kiss, but she was still angry.
“It’s Phyllis Jenkins, isn’t it? She submitted the report to the board. Can she do that?”
“I don’t know if she can…but she probably did.”
“Why does she hate you so much?”
“I don’t think she hates me, honey…she seems to feel like it’s her duty to stand in my way…like some guardian at the gate, you know…but there’s more. When she got angry with me the other day there was something in her eyes…I don’t know…almost a sadness…”
“I don’t care…this isn’t fair. We’ll show them…”
“You can’t come. I can bring my lawyer, but no one else is permitted in the meeting besides the board….School policy.” Diane began to tremble at the words….
“I…I know you’ll be there in spirit, honey…I’ll feel your presence…” She tried as hard as she could to be encouraging, but it was more than Trudy could handle and she broke down into heaving sobs against Diane’s chest. Diane gave into the sad moment and joined her wife as they cried together.
The next day…late Saturday morning…the McCarthy home…
“I’m so scared, Mikey.” Breena sat on the couch next to her nephew. Mike was taking a ‘break’ from his expression of solidarity and was wearing jeans and a navy tee sans the recent custom of wearing a brassiere. He felt oddly out of place.
“It’s going to be okay…nothing ventured?”
“It’s not your heart they’ll be picking off the floor if he hates me, boy.” She snapped, returning briefly to her put-out persona, but she quickly apologized.
“Oh, Mikey…I’m so sorry…you do care and I think it will hurt you and Patty if this doesn’t work almost as much as me.” She looked over to Patty in the kitchen. She was sitting at the table with her girlfriend Chelsea eating an early lunch.
“I think this is so sweet, Ms. McCarthy,” Chelsea said as she walked into the living room. Patty quickly joined her as they sat together squeezed into the large easy chair catty-corner to the couch.
“Just where is your mother now that this is all happenin’?” Breena said.
“She mentioned something about a thinking meeting, whatever that is.” Patty said.
“I know she’s planning on ‘being here,’ when Mr. Giambrone comes…she won’t be making an appearance though, since everyone at school knows she’s dead.” She giggled as the last words came out of her mouth, knowing that the being her mother had become after death was both magical and immortal.
“I’m so glad you can know her and speak to her. I don’t think I could ever handle it if my Mom died…I miss my Dad so much.” Patty squeezed her hand before continuing.
“Aunt Breena…this is a good thing you’re doing. Mr. Giambrone is one of the nicest teachers in the school. I can’t imagine him wanting to see you unless he’s serious. That he asked Mike if he could see you? It’s like you told us about back home…the respect.”
“But will he be respectin’ me when he finds out who I truly am?”
“That you’re nicer and kinder than what you let out to be, Ms. McCarthy? That you raised two great kids?” Chelsea beamed as she looked at Patty. Michael spoke.
“I’m hoping and praying for you, Aunt Breena. I haven’t prayed since fourth grade, but seeing Mom and seeing all the great things that have happened has sorta made me rethink some things, you know. I want you to know that Patty and I and Mom, of course are believing for you.” He leaned close and kissed her affectionately on the cheek.
“That we are, dear sister!” Janey McCarthy, now Sinead the Merciful of the Women of Draehoidel, walked into the living room. Mike looked up, expecting her to be in some character or even more so, perhaps a long flowing green velvet dress with a circlet in her hair. She was, of course, wearing none of the accoutrements of her newly adopted craft, preferring instead jeans and a forest green sweatshirt with ‘Villanova’ emblazoned on the front. She was eating an apple and leaning against the kitchen doorway.
“I need your help, Janey,” Breena looked up and tears began to well up in her eyes. Janey nodded, and said calmly,
“Aye, sis…I suppose you do. And you’ll get it, but not in any way you’re expecting. We can’t do anything but nudge folks…prod them a bit to take action where it’s needed or to be merciful…” She paused, remembering how her own conversion helped her to see the need for mercy and kindness.
“So what can you help me with?” Breena looked almost like a panicky girl going to the prom, which fit well with Janey’s next comment,
“I, dear Breena, am going to help you find a dress! Let's just believe that your first date will be one of many, dear one. Let hope have a place in your heart,aye?”
Phyllis Jenkins home…later that day…
A knock came at the door. Phyllis shook her head, wondering who would be knocking on her door on a Saturday, or any day for that matter. She grabbed the shawl off the couch and threw it over her shoulders and walked to the door. Opening it, she got a surprise…
“I’m sorry for coming over unannounced, but I just had to talk to you.” Dave Ackerman stood on her landing, looking very anxious
“Dave…Mr. Ackerman…we have nothing to talk about.”
“I’m sorry, but we do….MS. Jenkins.” He backed away from her slightly, trying to be less imposing. He failed
“Dave…Mr. Ackerman! Please leave. I can’t talk to you…now or in the future unless it’s on a strictly professional basis.” She went to close the door. He didn’t want to appear threatening so he smiled and said ‘FINE!’ Phyllis was so surprised she stopped and stared as he continued.
“I’ll just sit out here on your front porch. I’ve got all the time in the world, and believe it or not, I want to be your friend.... And you?" Phyllis tilted her head and stared again at his welcoming smile.
“Yes, Ms. Jenkins…I do want to be your friend. I’m sorry for coming on so strong, but I’m not used to talking with….” He hesitated.
“Women?”
“Administrators.” He laughed but continued with a more serious look on his face.
“I mean it…people in authority really scare me…I guess I get that from how my dad was.” He hadn’t meant to go there, but their conversation came back to him in too vivid detail as he remembered just how much he and Phyllis had in common. And he shook his head as tears began to fall on the concrete landing, leaving little puddles. Phyllis stared at him again, and something just touched her like nothing she’d ever felt before.
“Mr. Ackerman…Dave,,,I’m sorry. Please. Come inside…we can…we can talk. I think I can do that.” She grabbed his arm softly; the first time she had ever reached out to another human being since her brother had taken his life. At thirty-two, apart from a final few hugs from her mother before her passing and the occasional touch of the arm in conversation with her hairdresser, she hadn’t had any significant physical contact for nearly seventeen years.
“I’ll make some coffee, okay?” She ushered him into her home and closed the door. And sitting on the wrought iron railing on the landing, Orla smiled and breathed out a deep sigh of relief.
Broken Wings
A tall tree, turn and face the west
Oh we're running with the wind
On high cliff top we're waiting with the rest
For this journey to begin
These broken wings won't fly
These broken wings won't fly
These broken wings won't fly
At the Lambert home…
“How’s Marnie doing?”
“She’s fine…Dr. Levine said that she has been taking her vitamins and everything should be okay. She’s a very healthy girl.” Trudy smiled and wheeled over to the kitchen table and poured herself some coffee. Diane sat down a moment later and did the same before continuing, a look of sadness crossing her face.
“I’m…”
“Stop…”
“But…”
“Diane…we knew that it was a long shot any other way. Besides, this way we get to help the girl out and we can be parents. I know you want to have children, but it isn’t meant to be.
“I feel guilty.” Diane put her hand to her face. “Like somehow I betrayed myself.”
“What…because you wanted to use what God gave you before this? It’s not a bad thing…just a different thing. That’s part of who you were…who you are, since that part of you…the person…is part of the person I love. You feel ashamed because you wanted to and now feel ashamed because we can’t? Don’t feel ashamed of where you came from, who you are…anything! Diane is who she is today because Don helped make her that way…now the two of you are together; finally a whole person instead of two halves. So it’s all good, honey.” Trudy rubbed Diane’s arm.
“So…what do you say we go into the living room with our coffee and sit down on the couch and start thinking about names?” Trudy smiled and grabbed her cup and wheeled quickly into the living room, followed close behind by Diane. She lifted Trudy out of her chair and the two sat on the couch.
“I love you,” Diane said as she kissed Trudy, her hands touching Trudy’s hair and face gently.
“Easy girl...” Trudy protested. She pointed to the baby name book on the couch.
“Besides, we’ve got nine or so months…no hurry,” Trudy said, touching Diane’s face.
“That’s just what I was going to say,” Diane laughed and tossed the book onto the chair in the corner before kissing her wife again.
The Olympus Diner …
Paul sat across from Breena in the booth; they were in the far corner of the diner and the lighting was low, but not low enough to calm Breena’s anxiety. Paul was wearing a tan corduroy jacket over a blue button-down shirt and jeans. Brenna had settled on the green dress along with a white cardigan. A tall red haired girl of about nineteen or so came up to the booth and smiled at the two.
“Hi, I’m Marcie, I’ll be your waitress tonight; can I get you somethin’ to drink?”
“Diet Coke for me, please, and..?” He looked at Breena who looked back at him nervously and put her head down.
“The same,” she said, nearly in a whisper.
“I’ll be right back,” Marcie said and was gone.
“I’m very glad you decided to come tonight.” Paul said with a smile. Breena looked at him and smiled weakly. Her face grew warm and she could feel a bit of a quiver in her lips.
“We can go to another restaurant if you like if….” Paul shrugged his shoulders and sighed.
“If we go out again, that is.” He laughed softly and Breena turned her head slightly toward the window.
“There’s a really good Chinese restaurant over on 4th Street.”
“I’ve not had Chinese in a while.” Breena said.
“Well, consider that for our next date, if I may presume.”
“Presume all you want,” she thought to herself. This was the first date ever for Breena, if you didn’t count the time back in Killmury when Sean took out Moira Connelly when ‘he’ was thirteen. She thought about the prospects of seeing Paul again and her face grew red and her lip quivered even more.
“Now, if you don’t care for Chinese, there’s a really good pizza place not far from your house. Do you like Italian?” He smiled warmly and he put his hand out. He pulled it back quickly, but not before his hand brushed hers. She shrugged and shook her head before blurting out,
“I’m a transsexual.” She bit her lower lip softly and began to shake. Paul tilted his head slightly and smiled; almost as if he hadn’t heard her.
“What did you say?” His voice was soft and had no hint of the accusation she expected. She kept her head lowered and said softly,
“I like Italian.”
“Before that,” he said with a soft laugh; not mean but almost playful and certainly warm and accepting. She lifted her head slightly and revealed the tears that had begun to well in her eyes.
“I’m…I’m a transsexual.” She lowered her head once more as the waitress came with their drinks. As she put them on the table she noticed Breena had lowered her head and turned her face toward the window once again. Paul shook his head slightly and Marcie said,
“I’ll give you two some more time, okay?” With that she walked away.
“Breena, look up at me, please?” He was tempted to cup her chin softly, but even that gesture would have been intimidating. A moment later she lifted her head, revealing a tear stained face.
“Listen, please, okay? I’m not like that.” Paul said it softly with a hint of regret in his voice.
“That’s why I’m crying, Mr. Giambrone. I expect you’ll be takin’ me home now. May I have a ride home, please?”
“Why go home…what do you mean?” He asked.
“You’re not like that…I understand. Not used to datin’ girls like me, aye?? Well…I’m sorry.” She put her head down once again.
“No…not that way…I’m sorry…here.” This time he did cup her chin, gently as he had first intended. Apart from the brief brush of his hand against her fingers moments before, it was the first time any man had ever touched her.
“You know I was married?”
“Yes, Michael told me.”
“She died a few years ago…cancer…it was quick.” He sighed and it was his turn to look away at the window. She reached out and touched his hand; not in a ‘date-to-date’ way, but as the woman who raised two children with virtually no help and a lot of love and kindness.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Even still, she became nervous once again and withdrew her hand quickly.
“Would you like to see a picture of her?” He was reaching for his wallet even as he asked the question. Pulling a photo out of a clear pocket he held it out in his palm as a display.
“This was taken on our second anniversary.” He smiled and her eyes widened.
“Michael said your wife came from the old country….Dublin?” Breena looked back at the picture. Paul Giambrone was hugging his wife at the side as they both smiled at the camera. Her features were soft and pretty and her skin was almost as dark as her hair.
“Her father was an engineer from Nigeria; her mother was a chemist in Dublin. They met at university and fell in love. He was killed in a car accident when she was seven. Katy and her mom came to the States when she was about twelve.” Breena sighed. How could she even think of wanting a widower who had lovely wife?
“She’s very pretty. Again, I am so sorry for your loss,” Breena repeated herself as she stared at the photo.
“She had never really dealt with rejection until she came here. She was still trying to cope with the loss of her father, and then she never fit in, rejected by two sets of heritages in a strange culture. I met her in college, and she still bore some ‘scars.’
“I don’t understand.” Paul knew she would have added ‘how does this apply to me,’ if she wasn’t looking at the dinnerware on the table.
“We’re all different, Breena. All of us. Some of us are different on the inside. Some of us are different on the outside. Some of us are different both ways. Which makes us all the same, I suppose.”
“I don’t understand.” Breena had started to cry; still somewhat over her own hurts, but also for the loss this man still felt. And she felt so small and insecure; as if she didn’t matter when placed side by side with this woman; an ideal she would never achieve.
“What I’m trying to say, Breena, is it doesn’t matter to me.” He looked out the window, almost seeking something more than the distraction of moments ago.
“You’re a lot like her.” Breena tilted her head and her eyes widened in question.
“She was someone who…maybe because of her insecurity, but only a little bit…she placed everyone’s needs above her own. And she used to act put out even as she sought to help more and more. Like you, from what Michael told me.” She blushed as she wiped her face with her sweater sleeve.
“And she was pretty like you as well.” The pink in her cheeks grew red and very warm and she started to cry.
“Breena…I already knew.” He smiled but there was sadness in his eyes.
“What do you mean, you already knew.” She shuddered and it was almost as she had shrunk as she lowered in the booth.
“Michael told me after you agreed to see me.” Her face tightened, more out of shame than anger until he continued,
“He wanted me to know because I was going to find out, and he didn’t want you to feel embarrassed if I somehow turned you away after I found out. He was trying to spare your feelings.’’
“And this is what he calls sparing my feelings. When were you going to tell me?” She said with a tinge of anger in her voice, but her head was down, almost ashamed.
“After dinner tonight, I was planning on asking you out on another date, but…” He paused. She looked up and frowned in fear
“But now that you’ve met me? Well, I’ll be askin’ you to take me home so as I don’t embarrass you any more, Mister Paul Giambrone!”
“You don’t understand. And you don’t know me. If I was at all worried or ashamed of you, we wouldn’t have been sitting here in the first place, Breena. I knew and I asked you out anyway…doesn’t that mean something?” He stopped.
“No…I suppose it doesn’t."
"I see the same look of shame in your eyes that Katy wore even up to the day she died. You don’t have anything to be ashamed of. You’re a very nice person, Breena McCarthy, and I’m sorry you have been hurt and feel this way. You deserved more than what you’ve gotten, but I can’t change that other than to let you know I know ‘what’ you are and it doesn’t make a damn bit of difference to me.”
Paul was more than a bit angry, but it wasn’t at her. He lowered his tone and leaned closer, once again cupping her chin. Leaning over he said softly,
“And I suppose there’s only one way to show you just what I mean.” He stood up and leaned over the table and kissed her, not hard or erotic or sexual, but still a boy to girl kiss; Breena’s first ever. She smiled weakly before bursting into tears.
Paul sat down and held her hands in his, rubbing them gently. She looked up and blinked back some tears and looked straight at him; her eyes questioning whether or not what just took place had actually happened. A moment later she sighed and bit her lip once again as his hand touched her cheeks sofly, brushing away some stray tears. Marcie came back and Paul turned to her. She smiled and looked at Breena before saying in a near whisper.
“Take all the time you like; just wave when you’re ready to order, okay?” Paul nodded and Marcie, or rather Fiona turned around and walked back to the kitchen, breathing out a relieved sigh.
In a Lifetime
Torn asunder in the storm
Unless the sound can save your body and soul
Unless it disappears
Selfish storm (first the thunder)(then the storm)
Torn aside (one life)
In the storm
A little while later…
“Are you okay? I’m sorry for being so forward…I’ve never done anything like that before.”
“Well, it’s not like I make a habit of bein’ kissed by men in eatin’ establishments myself, Mr. Giambrone,” Breena said curtly, but her growing smile indicated something other than impatience.
“I’ve only been kissed just the once just now, Mr. Giambrone. Ever.” She put her head down as her face began to grow red with embarrassment. He grabbed her hand gently and held it.
“Well, if it’s any consolation to you, Ms. McCarthy, you’re the only pretty woman besides Katy that I ever kissed…there was one other, but I won’t count my Mom if you won’t.” He laughed softly but he had no company in his laughter. Instead he leaned down and looked under Breena’s hands, which had hidden her face. She was crying again.
“Will you be takin’ me home now, Mr. Giambrone?” She looked out the window, almost as if she was seeking some deliverance.
“No…Ms. McCarthy, I will not be taking you home now….not for a while. I haven’t had the company of a lovely woman in a long time, and I’m really reluctant for this time to end.” If he had expected more laughter to accompany his soft laugh, he was mistaken once again as the woman put her head against the window and began to cry harder; her expression that of shame and guilt.
“You really are quite pretty.” He smiled and grabbed her hand, rubbing the back of it gently.
“I wish you saw yourself the way others see you?” He said it almost as a pleading question.
“Your children are just the greatest kids and they love you enough to support you in this even though it’s awkward for you. They didn’t let you off the hook today, and I’m really glad for that, apart from your tears.” He reached in and gently wiped a drop from her chin.
“I don’t know what it is, and I’m really not worried about it at this juncture, but I really want to get to know you more…if that’s okay?”
“You needn’t be sorry on my account; I don’t go holdin’ with no charity. You’ve had your fun and you’ve done your bit for the cause. Oh I know… Mikey told me that your Ms. Lambert is a good friend of yours. If you show yourself to be a man of character…well and good, aye?”
“Ms. McCarthy…Breena…I asked Mike to help arrange this for my sake alone. Nobody but you and he and Patty know that we’re on a date as far as I know.”
“So you didn’t want to be seen with me, is that it?” She shook her head. He knew she was fragile, but this was getting difficult.
“No…not at all. I wanted to respect your privacy in case you found out you didn’t like me. Not everyone is compatible.” He shook his head and sighed.
“Oh well I know that, indeed, Mr. Giambrone. Not every man is suited to date a boy in a dress…aye…I understand completely.” It was getting to be too much, and the urgency wasn’t in how uncomfortable he was but in how hurt she was. He was tempted to kiss her again, but that got him only so far anyway. He shook his head again, took a deep breath and said,
“Breena McCarthy…I don’t know what’s bothering you. I’ve tried to show you…I’ve tried to tell you. I can’t say it any planer. I’ve fallen in love with you….Head over heels in love. You are possibly the most wonderful woman I’ve ever met…” He paused, waiting for the inevitable argument.
“But.”
“NO…there’s no but…no conditions or qualifiers or requirements. I don’t know where this is going to lead, but I want to see you… again and again, and not for anything other than completely selfish reasons. I love you!”
He said it all so fast that Breena literally was stunned. She would have done well to listen to his whole speech, but she did hear the last three words; the three most important words that she had heard in her entire lifetime. She looked at him and her lip started to quiver. It had been almost comical at first, but now, in light of her past and his confession, it became the most precious moment she had ever experienced.
She tilted her head as if to question if he was sure. He nodded his head in reply and smiled that warm gentle smile that was so disarming. She began to cry again, softly and in response to the lips that began to kiss her hands; the first time she had ever felt anyone wasn’t ashamed of her. She felt cared for and valued and cherished and loved all in one instant.
Marcie/Fiona stepped up to the booth and placed their meals on the table; in to-go containers along with two Styrofoam cups of coffee.
“Take all the time you want, hon…the meals’ on the nice couple over there,” she said, pointing in the direction of a booth just a little ways away where an elderly couple sat. The woman smiled and wiped her eyes while the man held his hands together over his head like he was congratulating Paul.
And Fiona stood back and smiled as she watched Paul and Breena, speaking softly,
“Grace to you, dear ones.”
At Phyllis’ home…that evening as well...
“I haven’t opened up since she died. I felt all along that it was my fault...I know you know…” Phyllis took a sip of coffee and found it had grown cold while she and Dave had talked.
“I can make a fresh pot,” she said as she stood up from the table.
“That’s okay…I…I probably should be going.” He turned and looked at the front door.
“Mr. Ackerman…Dave…I’m glad you came. You’ve been…” She wanted to say help, but that was just too impersonal.
“I’m glad I came, too. I haven’t talked about my brother since he….not with my family…no one, until now. You understand how I feel…we both feel.” He put his head down and tears came to his eyes. The unfamiliarity of talking with anyone was made more difficult by the fact that he had begun to see Phyllis in a different light. He felt ashamed that his feelings had nearly distracted him from listening to her. But listen he did; and the more he listened the more he became distracted.
“I should have stood up to my Dad….I hated myself….I still hate myself for that…she’d be alive today if I…” Her words were interrupted by the hand that softly grabbed her wrist as she sat down once again.
“No…please…if you’re guilty then I’m guilty and I can’t bear it. It hurts too much to think that we could have changed things…that we didn’t act.”
“It does….too much.”
She put her head down on the table and wept. Never before; even when she was little, had she cried like she was crying at that moment. Decades of guilt and shame threatened to close in around her like hands around her neck. Her shoulders shook from the sobs as she recalled too many chances to change. Not just for her twin’s sake, but for the sake of others. The fear and shame that had ruled decision after decision until she found herself friendless and alone.
“It’s okay….Ms. Jenkins?” She lifted her head slightly and looked into his eyes; something so unexpected from someone so rough and rugged. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and somehow she knew they weren’t for his own sorrows but for hers’ instead.
“Phyllis…you couldn’t have changed a thing. When my brother died…I spent so much time beating myself up…only when we talked the other day…I realized I wasn’t alone. And it wasn’t just you I thought of.” He sighed and looked out the kitchen window as if to see beyond.
“I…I know what you’re saying…It hurt me so much to think that I’ve brought so much hurt on someone….just like Eddie…I’ve been treating Dan…I’ve been treating Diane just like my Dad treated Eddie…I am so sorry.” She began to sob again, hopeless and alone once again until she felt a rough hand gingerly touch her face.
“No…you…and me…we can’t do this anymore. The whole time I was thinking about Jimmy after we talked, I tried to figure out what …how I should behave… how I should think. Almost like Jimmy was whispering in my ear. He was playful that way…I knew he was different. Mom and Dad, too, but we didn’t listen. And then it was too late, you know.”
At the word, ‘late,’ Phyllis gasped, but Dave continued to stroke her cheek. He wasn’t being forward or romantic at all, but like the brother Phyllis really never had, and almost as gentle as the sister she did, Dave showed her that she wasn’t alone…and would never be alone again if she chose not to.
“If Eddie and Jimmy were here, what would they say?” I kept asking myself that. Wondering what he…she, I guess, would be like? How would your sister look at you? And I figured out that the things that made them so special to us were how sweet and kind both of them were. So I figured that maybe I’m supposed to be kind, you know?”
“Dave…it’s my birthday tomorrow…her birthday…I miss her so much…”
“Phyllis…celebrate her…remember her tomorrow…what would she have you do?”
“She was such a sweet girl….” No ghost from any past or present or future could have affected her the way Dave Ackerman’s gentle touch and forgiving words ever could.
“I can’t be afraid of life so much as to try to protect everyone. I was….wrong….I am so sorry.” She grabbed his hand and pulled it away from her face.
“I don’t deserve any mercy….you ….don’t…please.”
“That’s the past talking…let it go.” He touched her face once again. As she put her hand up to pull his off her face he gently grabbed it.
“I don’t deserve your care…I don’t deserve mercy.” She sobbed.
“No one deserves mercy…that’s what makes it so special…”
He smiled at her as she gazed into his eyes, finally accepting the gift that she had been given long ago. The package that lay unopened in her heart was torn apart and the wonderful blessing within bestowed to a desperate, sad, and lonely woman. As she looked into his face she felt a warmth that had never been; an acceptance that she had never experienced. He pulled her closer and kissed her gently on the lips; romantic in a small way, but a part of the greater blessing of mercy and love that transcends. And for the first time in lifetime, Phyllis Jenkins knew what love was all about.
School Board emergency meeting….
“I’m sure we can all agree that this meeting is in the best interest of the children.” Superintendent Carlyle said turning to the panel. The school board was in quorum even if they were a bit short. Only five of the seven members were in attendance.
“Now, Mr. Lambert, Daniel, we have some questions we’d like to ask you.”
“Before we go any further, I’d like to state for the record that in addressing me as Mr. Lambert instead of my name, Diane Lambert, it appears that you have already determined the outcome of this meeting. My legal name is Diane Lambert, and yet you insist on using my former name in these proceedings, which I believe is a violation of my human rights as well as policy.”
“I apologize,” Martina Carlotti said, leaning over the table. “Ms. Lambert, would you mind saying something to add to the letter you sent to the board; perhaps a word of explanation so that we can understand what your intent is?”
“My intention is to fulfill my responsibilities to the board and to the school as a guidance counselor at the High School.” Diane blew out a breath. She had debated wearing the skirt that accompanied the suit she wore, but felt it might be a bit provocative. Trudy argued unsuccessfully that Diane needed to be free to wear whatever she wanted, but ‘common sense’ prevailed and Diane stood before the board in slacks and a shirt-like blouse, looking almost androgynous.
“No one questions your commitment to your job. It is troubling that you received a negative review this past quarter.” Diane’s eyes grew wide as Robert Newsome held up a bunch of papers, waving them slightly as if to indict her. She went to pick the microphone up to respond but a voice from the back spoke up.
“I can answer that.” Phyllis Jenkins walked to the podium and stood next to Diane, who looked at her, puzzled.
“May I,” she said quietly to Diane, a smile on her face that had replaced the smirk she usually wore.
“The report is erroneous, filled with misstatements and inaccuracies.” She said almost in a whisper.
“Excuse me, Ms. Jenkins, but didn’t you write the report?” Ms. Carlotti asked with a confused grin.
“Yes, I wrote the report, but it is, as I said, erroneous.” She shook her head slightly and lowered her gaze.
“One moment,” the Superintendent said before covering the microphone. He turned to each side and spoke quietly. Diane leaned closer to Phyllis and said,
“What’s going on? I thought?” She asked nervously.
“Well…you thought wrong, Diane.” She smiled, but there were tears in her eyes and she shook slightly. She grabbed the podium and tapped the microphone.
“If I may explain?” All of the board members turned to each other and after a few nods focused their attention on the podium in front of them.
“I wrote the report in haste, without due consideration before submitting it. Ms. Lambert has done an exemplary job in providing our children with the utmost courtesy and regard to their various academic and emotional needs. I wrote the report without having all the facts, and I was influenced to a great deal by the advice of someone who has since been discredited.” A few murmurs and some head shakes before Superintendant Carlyle spoke again.
“And who would that someone be, Ms. Jenkins?” His tone was demanding and annoyed.
“That would be me, Sir. I let some preconceptions and bias sway my opinion of Ms. Lambert, and I want it be in the record that I formally recant my report. The report was filed without consulting my supervisor, Marion Langhorne, whom you know is attending a conference. At this time, I’d like to extend my apologies to Ms. Lambert and her family for all the trouble I have caused. I apologize as well to the board for taking up your valuable time, and at the same time I would like to tender my resignation as Assistant Principal, effective immediately.” She put her head down and placed her hand over her face for a moment before turning to Diane.
“I...I am so sorry, Diane…Please forgive me?” She went to turn away but Diane grabbed her arm softly and beckoned her closer. She stepped near, tentatively and allowed Diane to hug her; allowing reluctantly while looking away, as if to satisfy Diane’s need to extend forgiveness while maintaining her belief that she deserved none. Diane pulled her closer.
“It’s okay, Phyllis…I understand. If I’m worth saving, then you are, too. I forgive you…I just hope you can forgive yourself.” Phyllis looked into her eyes and shook her head.
“How could you possible know…who told you?” She wasn’t so much resentful as embarrassed and ashamed that Diane could know about her story. A voice from the board interrupted them.
“You told me the other day…you spoke angrily to me, but your eyes…they spoke fear…for my sake, it felt. Like you were really just worried about my decision.” Diane had no idea where that came from; it almost felt like she sensed the un-sensible.
“I finally figured out where my treasure lies.” Diane looked at her and smiled and nodded as she finished,
“I…It’s a long story…I’ll have to tell you sometime,” she said between sobs.
“That’s all well and good, Ms. Jenkins, but we still have a matter her to dispose of regarding Ms. Lambert’s continued violation of school policy; specifically by encouraging students to dress in a provocative manner and then there’s the unsanctioned scheduling of controversial speakers for assemblies.
“If I may, I think I can help here.” Paul Giambrone strode forward.
“Who are you, and what is your business here; this is a closed meeting.
“First of all, I’m an employee of the school, which you should know, since you hired me, Mr. Carlyle. My name is Paul Giambrone; I coach and teach Phys. Ed. and Gym at the high school. My business, which should be the business of everyone here, is to see that Diane gets a fair shake; something I fear would be lacking in a so-called closed meeting.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, but it is board policy.” Carlyle was getting abrupt.
“It may be board policy, but it’s against state law, Robert.” Yet another voice interrupted the proceedings as Marion Langhorne stepped to the podium.
“And so is holding a meeting ad hoc when the agenda is personnel discipline. The immediate supervisor is supposed to be in attendance to allow the personnel to discuss the issues openly.”
“You were out of town and….”
“And you knew I’d be coming tomorrow. This meeting could have waited until Monday. There was no emergency, and frankly I resent your decision to move ahead without me. If you had bothered to answer any of the e-mails I’ve sent over the past week, you’d have learned I was coming this evening. Oh, and by the way, the only condition allowing for an emergency personnel meeting is if there is a serious breach of policy. Clearly here there wasn’t.”
“But Ms. Jenkins’s report? “
“Oh, hell, Robert, she just explained what happened, and you seem to have carefully ignored all the commendations and letters from parents in Ms. Lambert’s file.” Marion turned to Phyllis while the board members once again began to talk amongst themselves.
“And you and I will be having a talk in my office first thing Monday morning!”
“But I…I just ….you’ll find my resignation on your desk Monday.” Phyllis turned away, almost looking for a way of escape.
“Found it there just before I came over here…I ripped it up. You can’t quit on me, Phyllis because I won’t quit on you, okay. Dave Ackerman e-mailed me this morning…I know…I know…’he had no right,’ is what you’ll tell him…he’s waiting outside for you, dear, and I suggest you make nice to him, too, while you’re at it.”
“If you’re finished talking, folks, I’ve got something to show you, okay?” Marion nearly shouted into the microphone. The board members looked up just in time to see the door to the meeting room open once again as student after student poured into the hall; each wearing clothing which would be more suited to the gender opposite their own. Petey Carlucci and Patty and Mike McCarthy entered first, all three wearing nice skirts and tops and sweaters. Then one-by-one they were joined by nearly one fourth of the student body. Mr. Carlyle banged his oft-used gavel and protested,
“This is a closed meeting.”
“By the regulations and laws we previously cited, Robert, this is an illegal meeting, and thereby cannot be a closed meeting.
Several boys from the baseball team came dressed in prom gowns. A few girls came dressed in boys clothes, which they had ‘girled up.’ The drama club came dressed in their costumes for, of all things, Twelfth Night. One girl came dressed as Abe Lincoln, complete with beard. And at least half the faculty came dressed as well.
“There’s nothing wrong with all of these folks, is there, Robert?”
“No, Marion…I suppose there’s not.” He hit the gavel on the stand once more before saying,
“This meeting is concluded.”
A chorus of cheers filled the room as one lone figure held back by the front door. Marion pulled on Diane’s sleeve and pointed to the solitary figure in the wheel chair.
“It was her idea. She did all the research regarding policy and law, and she called every single family and employee the last several days, including me. Where she got my private cell I don’t know, but I’m awfully glad she did. I can’t imagine how we’d manage without you.” Diane made her way to the back and knelt down, almost in the exact manner she had when she and Trudy first met years before.
“You did this for me?” A statement rather than a question until Trudy answered.
“I did this for us, sweetie. I love you so much and I am so proud of you.” She smiled and began to cry. Diane pulled her almost out of her chair and embraced her and kissed her tears.
“And I love you. Let’s go home, okay?”
“Like I said…first thing Monday…and you’ve got bus traffic in the afternoon for the rest of the year, do I make myself clear?” Marion smiled and Phyllis nodded. Marion took two steps toward the front of the hall before turning one last time.
“Oh…and Phyllis?”
“Yes?”
“Happy Birthday.”
Phyllis picked up her purse from the podium and made her way to the door. She spotted Dave Ackerman standing by the door way and picked up her pace. Part of her wished to make a hasty exit, but part of her wanted to confront him. No matter how well things turned out, she was upset with him over what he had told Marion.
As she got to the door, she stopped and began to laugh as the crowd by the door dissipated to reveal a very tall girl in a USA Olympics Women Basketball team uniform…that is to say a moderately tall Dave Ackerman in the uniform. He was leaning on the door frame trying to look nonchalant.
“Best I could do…I borrowed it from my sister Val.” He shrugged his shoulders as Phyllis stepped closer to him.
“I don’t know if I should be angry with you or pleased,” she said, taking his arm.
“I’m sorry…I…” He stammered. She touched his cheek with her hand; another new thing for her as she said,
“I know, Dave…Thank you.”
“Well, I suppose this is payback for last year, right?” Robert Carlyle said as Marion stepped up to the desk.
“You know it is, Robert. We’ll get you this year, alright?” Marion said, referring to the annual BOE vs. school budget meeting.
“I’m sorry…I guess I was wrong about her.” He surprised himself with the use of the feminine pronoun.
“Yes you were, but I forgive you. You always were so opinionated and headstrong. These people need our support and encouragement and not condemnation. I hope you at least got that out of this?" He nodded and put his head down before she said,
"You gonna be at Mom’s for dinner on Sunday?”
“Yes?”
“You know what they say about family and friends, Robert?” He shook his head no.
“You can pick your friends….Don’t worry…I still love you.”
“Well, kids, I guess we should be headin’ home, aye?” Breena McCarthy smiled at Mike and Patty. Patty was hugging her girlfriend Chelsea and Mike sat in a chair looking a bit forlorn until a girl came up to him.
“I think what you did for Ms. Lambert is just wonderful.” Doreen Connelly stood with Mika Sinkowitz, both resplendent in jeans and sweat shirts with their hair pinned under their baseball caps. Doreen handed Mike a piece of paper and kissed his cheek before walking away slowly. It read,
“Dinner at my house…tomorrow…wear something ….pretty.”
Breena looked back and forth between the two before turning to Paul Giambrone.
“I best be going…would you mind taking me...us home?”
“Of course…may I…” Paul paused for a moment before continuing.
“May I see you again?” He smiled at her and she smiled back; a rare moment soon to gain more frequency as Breena McCarthy made the third most important decision in her life and said,
“That you may, Mr. Paul Giambrone; that you may!”
And in the back of the room, almost hovering, but not quite were three women. Looking down, they spotted two young ladies in their twenties sitting close toward the back. One wore an lilac cowl neck with sleeves pulled up to reveal a white blouse. She wore a light brown corduroy skirt and brown boots. Her red hair set off her lovely green eyes. Her friend...companion, really, was blond and petite and wore a charcoal cardigan over a royal blue shirt-waist dress, also in corduroy with black boots. The two had their heads together and were smiling and laughing.
"Who are those two...are they our next assignment?" Orla asked Calleigh, who smiled and shook her head no. Fiona tilted her head and Sinead laughed softly.
"That's Zoe and her girlfriend Ashley. Distant 'kin' if you take my meaning. They may be helping out from time to time. You know the kind of tasks we have...balladeers...they sing into existence the strength some of our charges may need, if you recall? But we've got work to do here yet, dears. Before we go, we have some partings to arrange and a new beginning."
"I thought we aren't supposed to interfere, Calleigh? What makes this different?" Orla asked as Fiona nodded her head.
"Oh, no, sweet girl...we won't be doin' anything except plannin' a party. We've got some celebratin' to do."
Comings and Goings
A few steps away...
"I'm still angry with you!" Phyllis looked over at Dave, who stood quietly while folks walked past to their cars.
"I know...but after our talk, I was so scared that you...you'd leave, and I couldn't let that happen...I promise I will never interfere in your life again....unless you want me to." She looked up at him and smiled.
"I guess it would be alright to interfere once and a while.
"Would you mind? Are you free next Friday?" He smiled at her and she grinned.
"Oh...I supposed I could be...what do you have in mind?"
"Well..." He paused and she seemed to grow brighter in anticipation until he said,
"There's a grief support group that meets at my church at seven...I thought maybe you'd like to go."
"Oh...I guess so." She half-frowned in disappointment until he added,
"And maybe we could grab a late dinner in the city? Would you like that."
"Yes...David Ackerman...I would like that a lot."
The McCarthy home...a bit later...
"Well...this is it...I'm off in a bit..." Janey had stayed back, since no one other than the Women, Patty and Chelsea, Michael, and Breena ,knew of her 'existence.'
"Do you have to go?" Patty began to cry. Chelsea held her hand and they walked over to Janey.
"I'll be just around the corner...Malaysia or some place...just a stone's throw away." She laughed, knowing really that when your stride and voice span eternity, a half-planet is a very short distance.
"You...you'll come by? Often?" Patty hugged her mother.
"As often as I can be spared, but you're in good hands, what with your darlin' girl here and your sister. Speakin' of which, come give me hug, okay?" Michael was still dress as Michelle, and felt awkward once again.
"Listen, my dear child. You have nuthin' to be ashamed of. You're as fine a man and woman as I've ever known," she said, teasing only a wee bit.
"That's just it...is this what I am...what's wrong with our family this way?" He put his head down. She lifted his chin with a soft gesture and said quietly,
"Nothing at all Michael...the McCarthy's have been blessed this way...something in us? I don't know...but you'll be a better person for it. You are a fine man, Michael, but I believe your path lies elsewhere, if you understand me...Calleigh won't be but a wee bit more before she starts thinkin' about retiring, and you, my dear have the heart for it..."
"Mom...I..."
"The best of both worlds, Michelle, my dear daughter." She kissed his fore head before walking out the front door. Standing on the porch, Breena held Paul's hands in hers. She was crying again, but she didn't look upset at all.
"Ahemmm!" Janey made a point to make the noise loud enough to interrupt them.
"Oh....Paul....this...this is my...."
"Hello? I'm Janey...Breena's cousin from Ireland...I've heard about you? Mr. G, the kids call you. I'm glad to meet you." She held out her hand, which he shook gently but firmly.
"Aye...a man's shake...I'm awfully glad you and Breena have hit it off so well." Breena began to blush at the comment.
"From what everyone tells me, Breena, You'll likely not find a finer man that this one, my dear girl, and I'm telling you, Mr. Paul Giambrone, you will never find a finer woman in all the world as well." Paul nodded and turned to find Breena crying once again.
"Well, dear, come give me a hug...I'm off...I'll be back soon, don't you worry. Keep on loving those precious children of yours..." Janey's voice trailed off, not out of regret, but out of relief and joy, knowing that somehow love had redeemed the McCarthy family, and that everything was going to be alright.
The Lambert home...that evening...
"I love you so much..." Diane lay beside her wife in bed, basking in the joy of the moment that would definitely transcend time. People had rallied around her, but more importantly, she understood finally that the true measure of a person is gauged by how many friends she has, which with Diane and Trudy both were many.
"So...what about names?" Trudy said with a conspiratorial giggle, something Diane completely missed.
"I've always loved Roberta...after my grandmother...but I also love Liz..."
"How about Kelly, after my grandmother...or maybe Zoe...after your Aunt?" Trudy giggled again.
"So hard to decide." Diane shook her head. She was still amazed and relieved and overwhelmed at the outpouring of love she had been blessed with.
"Why not Roberta Elizabeth? Or maybe Kelly Zoe...or a combination of any of them." Trudy kissed Diane's ear, causing her to shrink a bit from the tickle.
"Or maybe all of them?" Trudy began to laugh; a relieved laugh, but a joyous laugh filled with wonder and awe at the day and the days to come. Diane looked at her slightly crosswise and confused until she said finally at last,
"Dr. Levine called again today...they did another ultrasound for Marnie today..."
"No..." Not a disagreement so much as an amazed gasp.
"We, heart of my heart, are going to be mothers to two darling little girls.
"Roberta Kelly and Zoe Elizabeth...mmmmmm."
"What's that look?" Trudy said with caution. Diane leaned closer to her wife and kissed her deeply before saying at last,
"Let's celebrate."
Calleigh stood outside the McCarthy home with Orla, Fiona, Sinead back in her role as a Woman of Draehoidel. With them were two young women in their twenties. They were dressed in similar garb as the others, almost gossamer gowns in colors too wonderful to describe.
"Is this going to hurt?" Zoe asked, more out of concern for Ashley than herself.
"Not at all, and we'll be back before the night is over...that's how it goes." Ashley looked at Calleigh with amazement.
"You'll not be needing your instruments this time, but I expect you'll do fine with the singin'. We're going to go to Australia. A very nice grandmom...Alison Mary her name is...needs help because a friend is sad and scared and feelin' all alone. Alison has done what she can, and this girl needs the strength and courage that only the Sacred Songs can provide. So sing you will, darlings...and I know you'll do fine.
"Miss Calleigh," Ashley said, touching Calleigh's arm softly.
"I think I might be afraid to fly...I've never flown in a plane." She put her head down, almost embarrassed. Zoe held her tight and whispered quietly,
"Honey...I don't think we'll be flying in a plane." Even as she said that the six women began to shimmer and glow as their clothing became almost a wisp of smoke or a cloud of vapor. And in a moment they were gone.....
There is your heart
Special appearance by Ashley and Zoe, superb authors in their own right. They appear in my story
Dainéal’s Dream - https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/82055/dain-al-s-dream
as well as their own origin in my Draehoidel Lore - The Singer and Her Bride https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/28225/singer-and-her-...
Book of Days
Songwriters: Eithne Ni Bhraonain (Enya)
Nicky Ryan and Roma Shane Ryan
performed by Enya
May It Be
From the Motion Picture Series
Lord of the Rings
Songwriters: Eithne Ni Bhraonain (Enya)
Nicky Ryan and Roma Shane Ryan
performed by Enya
Someday
words and music by
Steven Schwartz and
Alan Menken
From the Motion Picture
Hunchback of Notre Dame
performed by
Celtic Woman
When You Believe
from the Motion Picture
Prince of Egypt
Words and music by
Kenneth (Babyface ) Edmonds and
Stephen Schwartz
performed by
Celtic woman
Red is the Rose
Traditional Irish song
as Performed by Dervish
A Stor Mo Chroi
Words by Brian O'Higgins
Traditional Irish Melody
as performed by Dervish
The Last Rose of Summer
Traditional Irish Melody
Words by Thomas Moore
as performed by
Méav NᬠMhaolchatha
Erin Gra Mo Chroi! (Love of My Heart)
Traditional Irish Song
as performed by
Cherish the Ladies
The Soft Goodbye
Words and Music by
David Downes
As Performed by
Celtic Woman
Hope Has a Place
Words and Music by
Enya (Eithne Patricia NᬠBhraoná¡in)Brennan
performed by Enya
Broken Wings
Words and Music by
Dougie MacLean
As performed by Cherish the Ladies
In A Lifetime
Words and Music by
Pá³l Brennan and Ciará¡n Brennan
as performed by Clannad and Bono
Treasure
words and music by
the performing band,
Iona
Comments
words fail me
I simply cannot find the words to express how good this is
Magic...
...comes in many forms. Oh yes, there's the flashy kinda magic, all sparkly and pretty, that turns pumpkins into coaches. But there's also older magic, that comes from deep down in the bones. It's subtler than the kinda magic most people think of, but when handled properly, things that seem impossible can happen. This story has that kinda magic. Thank you so much for sharing such a wonderful, beautiful story. :)
I'm Not Sure
If I liked this version better than the original one, but it's purely relative anyway, seeing how I love them both.
I really loved the music too. It went with the story and the magical ladies.
Amor Vincit Omnia
It's like the witches set things up in Part 1, but in Part 2 the regular mortals did most of the work. On themselves, mostly; and the backlash against Diane and the trans students (plus the ones who just wanted to indulge in harmless freedom of self expression) collapsed in on itself. A bit of a coincidence that both the main instigators of the backlash had the same painful repressed reasons for their hostility toward Diane; it would have been a lot harder and required a whole different tack if they were just plain rotten hateful jerks, but you don't tend to do irredeemable characters. You have faith that people can be reached, and can even find love like Phyllis and Dave did. As cynical as I can be I still love hopeful stories; and this sure was!! The whole ending was almost as deliciously AMOR VINCIT OMNIA as the 2+1/2 hour finale episode of SENSE8 (which had that for a title...). BTW your little nod to our dear Alison at the end was a sweet touch.
~hugs, Veronica
.
And speaking of rotten hateful jerks, can your witches PLEASE go to Washington
and work their magic on a couple of tran-hating bullies named Donny and Mike?
And remember...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ifLqzLEB3E0