This is an expanded version of a story which I wrote and posted here two years ago.
The story is dedicated to all young trans-women, particularly teens, who feel that their "condition" will always define or label them. As this story shows, that's not the case at all. Megan Phillips (born Michael) transitions and goes on to become a student, a friend, a doctor, a mother, and a wife - much as any other woman. In the end, she dies having lived her life as a woman, not as a trans-woman or some other term. Like any story, there are tragedies, victories, and side issues that influence life, and Megan is certainly no exception.
I'm posting this in 8 segments, as the entire work is over 78,000 words - a bit lengthy for reading at one seating.
The only warning that I give is that a number of people die due to circumstances in the story. Also, if you are averse to Christians or to associated prayer/Bible reading, this might be worth skipping. Megan becomes a Christian in the story, and while it's not an active part of the story, her faith is touched on from time to time.
I would appreciate any comments or suggestions that you might make. Thank you for any comments.
PROLOGUE
1974-1992
Michael Phillips was born in 1974 to a urological surgeon and his wife. His parents, Tim and Michaela, welcomed the boy with grateful hearts. Michaela struggled mightily through the pregnancy and her doctor warned that any more pregnancies might threaten her life. Begrudgingly, both husband and wife agreed that Michael would grow up as an only child.
In some ways, Tim and Michaela were opposites. Tim was blond, six feet, four inches tall, and had pale skin that looked as if it had never seen the sun. He had the body of a very lean marathon runner. His wife, on the other hand, was five foot, six inches tall and while not overweight, was built solidly. She was the daughter of a Cherokee Indian father and a Comanche Indian mother, and as a result, had darker Native American skin tones.
Tim was a rising star in his profession, and his practice was beyond successful. Being a third generation doctor in the same large metropolitan area of the Midwest didn’t hurt, either.
Michaela could have been a socialite, but chose to use her time by volunteering in several community organizations. She proved to be a quiet leader and with her husband’s connections, she found herself in a leadership role in several organizations.
Michael would grow up with privilege, lacking nothing.
But their son had anything but a normal childhood. Sometime before his fifth birthday, Michael instinctively knew that he was meant to be a girl. He wanted to wear dresses and other clothing that would emphasize femininity, much to the chagrin of his parents. Michael also played “house” with his stuffed animals and had “tea parties” for them. He even used feminine gestures and walked more like a girl than a boy. His parents tried to ignore the behavior, thinking that it was a phase that he would leave behind at some point. Instead, he became ever more vocal about his preferences.
By the time that Michael was ten, he was well aware of the differences between boys and girls. Shortly after he went to bed one evening, Michaela heard talking as she passed his room. Stopping to hear, she heard “Dear God, I know that I’m supposed to thank you and pray for Mom and Dad. But it’s so hard. God, I’m a girl. I’m not a boy. I wish that you would have made me a girl instead of a boy. I want to make friends with all of the girls at school, but I can’t because they look at me and they say ‘He’s a boy’.” I’m not a boy, God. I’m a girl stuck in this stupid boy body. Mom and Dad want me to be a boy, but I can’t. I just can’t. Please let me wake up tomorrow as a girl. Please.”
Michaela ran as quietly as she possibly could to hers’ and Tim’s bedroom, quickly shut the door, and burst into tears. Devastated by her child’s sincerity but not knowing what to do, Michaela needed time to process what she heard. She decided that Michael would have to see a child psychologist. Maybe not even one, but several, she concluded.
Because of Tim’s schedule, it fell to Michaela to handle the issue. She made appointments with four different psychologists. All of them diagnosed their son as transgendered and told them to accept and work with his femininity. They also encouraged them to help Michael to transition to female in his teen years if his feelings of being female continued.
In spite of the psychiatrists’ findings, Tim felt that Michael should be forced into living as a male child regardless. “It’s just a phase, he’ll grow out of it”, he told his wife. She chose to go along with him, believing that her husband should be the leader. But the mother was torn between helping her son in the way that the professionals recommended and trying to placate her husband’s demands.
Tim’s insistence on raising Michael as a boy began to unravel, though. On the child’s eleventh birthday, his parents showered him with a large variety of wrapped presents. As he began to tear into the wrapping of each with a vengeance, it soon became apparent that there were only male oriented toys and games. The boy became increasingly agitated as he neared the end and after opening the last one, the child completely lost his composure in a flood of tears and quickly ran upstairs to his bedroom, leaving his stunned parents looking at each other.
Michaela looked at her husband and asserted, “This isn’t working. We’re going to have to figure out something else.”
Greatly upset about what happened, Tim retorted, “No, we won’t. Mike has to understand that he’s a boy. He can’t be a girl, no matter how much he wishes. He’s just going to have to deal with it.”
The last statement stirred Michaela’s wrath at last. “No, he will not ‘deal with it’. He is who he is. If Mike is a girl, than he’s a girl. Perhaps he’s like others in Native American history. He might be two-spirited and that’s just who he is.”
Sarcastically, Tim answered, “So what do you do with a two-spirited person?”
“You let them live the way they’re meant to live. One of the things that was brought up in a meeting I went to a few weeks ago is how many kids are committing suicide these days. It’s frightening. Do you want our son to be one of those? How hard was it for me to get pregnant? You and I prayed for that child every day while he was in my belly. So don’t tell me that you can somehow pound a square peg into a round hole.”
Tim sighed and asked begrudgingly, “What do you think we should do?”
She thought a minute and quietly answered. “We let him be a girl, but only inside the house. Let him decorate his room like a girl. Let him have some girl clothes. But NOT anywhere outside the house.”
“OK, I can go along with that. But he is to never appear as a girl to anyone else beside the two of us. Understood?”
“Agreed. He’ll just to have to swallow whatever it is that’s going on and still go to school as a boy.”
Initially, Michael was thrilled to decorate his room like a girl, and to purchase girls’ clothes, books, posters, and other furnishings. Michael was also allowed to grow his hair long, and to style it in such a way that it could be modified to appear girlish. This was accepted given his Native American facial features and skin coloring which was halfway between Tim and Michaela’s.
For the next few years, this compromise appeared to work. Michaela purchased items that were meant for girls who were Michael’s age. Every afternoon, he hurried to his room so that he could change clothes and re-style his hair. As much as possible, he spent time in his room as “Megan”, the feminine name that he picked for himself. But between having to be a boy at the private school he attended and the constant bullying because of his feminine demeanor and gestures, Michael was miserable outside the sanctuary of his room. In spite of the bullying, however, he was blessed with considerable fortitude and excelled in his academic pursuits. But he had no friends, as he was “too gay” for the boys and the girls were not willing to accept him as one of their own.
Due to his father’s long work hours and his mother’s community volunteer activities, Michael was left alone in the house for long periods of time. This provided “Megan” the opportunity to move around their 6,000 square feet house. Fortunate in having his own bathroom immediately adjacent to the bedroom, “Megan” learned how to apply makeup, as well. Michael became increasingly convinced that he should have been born as “Megan”.
Michaela sensed her son’s happiness as “Megan”, and on days when Tim was out of town, referred to her as Megan. She wasn’t willing to go completely against her husband’s wishes, but that didn’t stop her from trying to straddle a middle ground the child and her husband. On several occasions, Michaela clandestinely took her son to a shopping mall two hours from their house for a “mother daughter” shopping trip. One of the most memorable days for Megan was going to a department store makeup counter on her 14th birthday and receiving a full makeover. Even though Megan had seen herself in the mirror innumerable times, she gushed, “Mom, I’m pretty! I’m really pretty”.
But Tim didn’t stop trying to push sports like golf and skeet shooting on his son. Michael disliked guns and was hopelessly clumsy at shooting golf balls. At long last, though, Tim managed to find a bit of common ground with his son through running. Though Michael initially objected to running with Tim, he begrudgingly obliged and at times when Tim’s schedule would permit, father and son would join each other for a run around their neighborhood.
But the two failed to bond. Tim didn’t understand, nor did he want to tolerate, his son’s proclivity for everything female. During the rare times when the family was together for dinner, Tim and Michael rarely spoke to each other.
Even with considerable freedom to express his female side and his mother’s tacit if not overwhelming support, Michael’s overall mood sank lower and lower. In his mind, his father would never accept him, school would continue to be a nightmare, and it was far too long to wait until he could leave home. Self-harm became his “way out”. Starting at age 13, Michael began to cut himself on the wrist and forearms. Hiding his marks from his parents proved to be fairly easy, as he normally wore long-sleeve shirts.
Within a year, his arms had several scars from the times that he drew blood in a vain attempt to handle his issues. Sinking ever deeper, though, he began to plan his own demise, reasoning like many teens that there was no way out of his situation. Michael logically concluded that his parents would be better off without his gender errant ways.
But the evening that Michael executed his plan and slashed his wrists severely with a razor blade, Tim sensed something wrong and went to Michael’s room to check on him. He encountered the teen in his bathroom with blood flowing everywhere. Quickly stemming it and calling for an ambulance, an angry Tim berated his son even as he was being loaded into an ambulance for a trip to the ER and week-long stay in the Metro Hospital mental health unit.
Even after that episode, Tim refused to admit that Michael was trying to deal with being a girl in a boy’s body. However, Tim did stop pressuring his son to conform and begrudgingly accepted that he was merely different from other boys. But to Tim, Michael remaining male was a non-negotiable issue.
After recovering from his suicide attempt, Michael became more and more focused on an “underground” way to begin transition from male to female. He spent considerable time in the local library researching anti-androgen drugs. If he could somehow get hold of them, he could restrict muscle development, voice deepening, and increases in height. He could remain like a pre-puberty boy and then add estrogen when he was older to start feminine development like breasts and hips.
It didn’t take long for him to pursue this course. Through his computer, he was able to find some contacts who put him in contact with an overseas pharmacy that didn’t require a prescription. By renting a private mailbox, Michael was able to order the medication using his allowance and sneak it home without his parents being aware of his actions. He would continue this from the time that he was just over fifteen until close to his eighteenth birthday.
His plan worked. Michael retained his pre-adolescent body without maturing into a young male. His voice didn’t change, his shoulders didn’t broaden, and his beard didn’t start growing. For the most part, he stayed much as he was at early puberty. Even his growth stopped at five feet, nine inches – a bit short for a man, but not overly tall for a woman. Tim and Michaela were oblivious, deciding that he was just a “late bloomer”.
At the beginning of his senior year in high school, Tim and Michaela purchased a brand-new Toyota Corolla for their ‘son’. At long last, Michael had the ability to ‘be’ a girl outside of his home. Several times, he put on his “Megan” clothes and slipped out to a mall an hours’ drive from the Phillips home. With his natural feminine gestures, experience in applying makeup, and restyled hair, Michael looked and acted like a girl. As a result, the clerks in the mall treated Michael as they would any young woman. “Megan” savored every opportunity for such activities.
In February of his senior year in high school, Michael began to take a medication containing estrogen. Michael began to develop breasts and accumulate more fat in the hips and thigh area in a manner identical to a young woman. In just four months, he reasoned, I’ll be out of here and can become Megan permanently.
CHAPTER 1
June, 1992
Eighteen-year-old Michael Phillips was almost finished loading all of his belongings into his Toyota Corolla. He was getting ready to embark for summer school prior to his freshman year at a university two hours away. After summer school was finished, he was to immediately begin work on a psychology degree program that would stretch for years until he received his M.D. degree. His mind wasn’t on college or on loading the car, however.
This day, as he loaded the car, Michael realized that he had almost started using estrogen too early. His breasts had grown almost to the point where they were visible if he wore tight or thin clothing. The nipple area was sensitive and sore, and to alleviate the discomfort, he began wearing a sports bra whenever possible. His budding breasts also made loading the car more difficult as he had to avoid bumping them or else experience a few moments of excruciating pain. He was developing hips and his thighs began to accumulate feminine fat. But his weight was slowly dropping, though, an effect of watching his diet carefully. Michael was glad that his parents hadn’t noticed the changes.
Finally, after many trips up and down stairs, he was ready to leave. Alone like usual, he locked the front door and set the alarm. As Michael got into the driver seat of his car, he realized this might be the last time that he would be permitted in the house. In six months, Michael would be Megan, whether or not his parents approved. (He planned to feign illness to keep from coming home at Thanksgiving.) Reluctantly, he started the car and looked back at the front of the house, wondered what life would be like when he returned at Christmas.
June through December, 1992 (Michael’s freshman year in college)
Once he arrived at college, Michael was assigned to a single room in a co-ed dorm where he could live as either gender. He also made the contact with the university’s counseling office. Michael was placed with Sandra Teague, an adjunct professor of psychology who had experience in dealing with transsexual students.
Dr. Teague first contacted Michael by phone. The psychiatrist encouraged Michael to dress as “Megan” for their first appointment. Because of his mall experiences, this act by itself created no issues. But Michael/Megan wanted to leave no doubt in the mind of Dr. Teague.
On the day of his appointment, a somewhat nervous transgender woman got dressed in an age-appropriate mid-thigh dress, brushed her hair and clipped it back in a feminine way, and slipped on some Keds to make her way across campus on the warm June day. Stopping by for a bottle of water at a campus store, the clerk addressed her as “Miss” without hesitation. Megan also noticed that she was getting ogled for her long, slender legs. By the time she arrived at Dr. Teague’s office, she was relaxed and confident, as projecting a feminine presence was natural. On their first meeting, the psychiatrist was shocked but not totally surprised. To Teague, it was evident that this was no boy. She had seldom encountered a more natural female who was unfortunately born into a male body.
The psychiatrist addressed her as Megan from the very beginning and encouraged her to increase her outings as much as possible to acclimate herself to her new gender role. Since the campus was so large, only those who knew her well would even notice goings and comings in both genders.
Teague also placed her with an endocrinologist who immediately adjusted “his” hormone levels to quicken his move to Megan. Fortunately, during his self-medication, Michael was conservative in his dosages. The student didn’t escape without a thorough verbal thrashing from the doctor, though, who told her that what she had done could have resulted in permanent liver damage.
Megan rapidly responded to the full dosages of the hormones. By early November, it was apparent from Megan’s breast growth and facial feminization that she would have to attend classes as Megan beginning with the next semester. Even though her voice pitch never deepened thanks to the anti-androgens that she began at fifteen, Megan began to see a speech therapist to work on her voice. Megan needed more resonance and pitch variation in order to have a completely believable, never questioned female voice. Within a few weeks, Megan had altered her voice sufficiently to be gendered as female all of the time. In fact, she had to alter her voice to her parents and when she had to appear in public as ‘male’.
Just before Thanksgiving, Teague contacted all of Michael’s professors and told them of her transition from Michael to Megan. She asked them to address her as a young woman by the name of Megan, but that she would still have to go by Michael since her name had not been legally changed.
At that point, Megan made a trip to a salon to have her long hair re-styled and cut in a feminine fashion. After Thanksgiving, when the psychiatrist and her patient were sure that the professors had received their notifications, Megan began to dress and attend class as a young woman. Only one professor, a middle-aged woman who taught English, had a reaction. After class, she came up to Megan before she stood to leave and said, “You look really, really good. Congratulations and good luck.” Megan smiled and stood up, and before she could react, the professor gave her a female hug.
Late December, 1992
A month later, as the semester came to a close, Megan’s trip home for Christmas became a concern for both patient and psychiatrist. Megan wanted to be herself with her parents but feared rejection based on the previous reactions of her father. Teague was concerned for the student, fearing a suicide attempt if her mother and father completely rejected her. This was to be the first time that they were to see Megan instead of Michael. Feigning the load of work at school, she had skipped going home at Thanksgiving.
It was 11:00 a.m. on the final day of the finals testing for the semester. Megan had packed the car for the trip home. In the suitcases, there was nothing but “girl clothes”. The way that she viewed it, if they would accept Megan today, then she wouldn’t need the boy clothes any longer. She was ready to give them to charity. Michael was quickly becoming a memory, and she just hoped that her parents would agree to work with heron it. Megan nervously awaited her therapist, but finally, the door opened to her office and Sandra Teague emerged and spoke to her patient, all the time smiling broadly at her.
“Hi, Megan! How are you doing?”
As the student walked quietly toward her, Sandra eyed her patient up and down. With her three inch heels, the normally five feet, nine inch Megan appeared as a six foot tall light brown-skinned brunette dressed in knee high boots, a sweater and skirt. She was not as dark as her full-blood Cherokee mother, but not as pale as her “lily white” father. The tight sweater emphasized her full C-cup breasts that had quickly grown during the past six months. Large round glasses covered a substantial part of her face. Her persona screams female and her parents are out of their minds if they don’t believe that this person is meant to be female, Sandra thought to herself. Megan had become increasingly happy as the semester progressed. But today was different as Megan’s nervousness showed. Sandra knew that her patient would be leaving to go home to a possible hostile welcome.
“I’m really nervous”, Megan admitted.
“Come on in and we’ll talk about it”, Sandra answered, smiling broadly at her patient.
As Megan sat down, she continued, “You look really nice today. You’re a beautiful young woman, Megan.”
“Thank you. I hope that my parents think that way, too.”
Sandra noticed that her voice was flawlessly female. She asked, “So, how have you fooled them on the phone so far? To me, you’ve sounded totally like a girl for the past few weeks. Surely they would have realized that when you called home.”
“Well, I’ve been able to drop my pitch back to my old voice. But the last couple of times, it’s been really hard. In fact, they asked me the last time if I had bronchitis. I lied and said that I did.”
“OK, now tell me again what you’re going to do if you’re kicked out of your parent’s house. We’ve talked about this before, but I want to make sure that you know exactly what to do in case the worst happens.”
Megan head visibly drooped as she looked down toward the floor. “I’ll come back here. That’s all I can do.”
“And then what? How are you going to afford food and gas for your car?”
“Well, all of my tuition and board are paid through next semester. And I have five thousand in my expense account.”
“What I want you to realize is that you’re going to have a get a job right away. They may legally disown you, too, Megan, so I want you to be prepared for that possibility in the next few weeks. If they do, it will make life a lot easier for you. That way, you’re entirely on your own, and scholarships and grants will be easy to obtain since you’ll have no income other than just your work.”
Megan sighed audibly. She was aware of the possibilities, but the psychologist was right. She needed to be prepared for dramatic changes in her life if what she feared came to pass.
“I know that I’m risking everything, but I have to do this. There’s no way that I can be Michael any longer.” Stroking the dark long hair that fell on each side of her head in gentle waves, she continued. “I love being Megan. It’s like being in clouds and fog for your whole life, then suddenly breaking through into sunlight.”
“I know, sweetheart. Life isn’t fair to trans-women like you, though. It’s getting there, but there’s still a long way to go as far as people’s acceptance. But you know what? I can’t believe that you’ve come this far this quickly. Everything about you screams ‘girl’, so you may have it far easier than so many others.”
The two continued their conversation for another forty minutes. At the end, Teague felt much more comfortable about Megan’s outlook. The girl may have it rough for a while, but there’s no way that she’s going to harm herself or others, she decided.
As the session drew to its conclusion, Sandra announced that they had reached the end of their time. Standing, Sandra once again smiled broadly at Megan, then approached Megan as the latter stood until they were only inches apart. Then her smile turned immediately to a serious expression, making Megan think that she was about to receive a lecture. She was.
“This isn’t going to be easy. But Megan, you are one strong young woman. It took a lot of strength to even admit to yourself that you really aren’t the gender that you were raised. You will make it. I totally believe in you. Look, my home phone number is on the back of this card,” handing a business card to Megan who promptly put it in the purse that was resting to her side. “I want you to give me a call if you need to talk about anything. I’m here for you.” Sandra reached out to hug her patient, and as they did, the psychologist once again whispered to Megan, “You call me. I’ll be thinking about you.” Megan nodded and whispered back “I’ll see you later.” Then she turned and walked out of Sandra’s office. It was time to see if her parents would accept Megan or not.
Three hours later – the Phillips home
Megan had to stop two times on the interstate to calm her nerves. She knew that her parent’s reaction to seeing her as a young woman would have huge implications on how her life would have to proceed.
Finally, she arrived at the gate outside their home and dutifully punched in the code to enter. While the gate was opening, she smoothed her skirt one last time and made sure that her sweater was straight. Then she drove to a parking spot on their circular drive just outside the front door.
As she anticipated, the front door began to open and her parents stepped outside and waved just as she shut off the engine. Taking the keys out of the ignition, she nervously shoved them in her purse and then slung the purse over her shoulder. Since the driver’s side door was on the side away from the front door, they couldn’t initially see her get out of the car. As Tim and Michaela watched, Megan made her way around the car. As soon as she was in full view, her parents’ mouths fell open.
Megan cheerily but nervously called, “Hi Mom, Hi Dad” in her female voice. By this time, Megan noticed that her Mom’s expression changed to one of surprise, while her Dad’s changed to anger.
Tim yelled, “Michael, what in the hell do you think you’re doing? Are you playing some kind of crossdressing game?”
With a confident stride, the young woman approached her parents until she was at arm’s length. Her nervousness abating, Megan spoke back authoritatively. “I’m Megan, not Michael. I never was Michael. How many psychologists told you that? As soon as I got to school last summer, I began working toward this day.”
“Well it’s obvious that they made some kind of mistake. You’re just pretending to be a woman.”
“Mistake? Dad, I’m happier than I’ve ever been. The fact that I’m standing here talking to you now should tell you that I’m not that shy little trying-to-be boy any longer. I’m a young woman making her way in the world just like everyone else. I love who I am for the first time in my entire life.”
His face beginning to turn red, Tim continued. “You’re a young man, plain and simple. I don’t care if you think that you’re a woman, a rabbit, or a squirrel. You cut yourself in your bathroom to get attention, and this little stunt that you’ve pulled today is getting my attention, too. Michael or Megan or whoever the hell you are, I’m cutting you off after the spring semester. You can find your own way. Just don’t expect me to help you get there.”
Tears filling her eyes, Megan looked at her mother, hoping for support. “Mom?”
“I’m sorry. The more that I’ve thought about it, the more I think that I made a mistake by helping you. There’s no way that a person can permanently change from a boy to a girl. You might be able to make yourself look like a young woman, but there’s no way to become one. I think that you’re making a big mistake in trying to live as Megan. I wish that I could say otherwise, but I’m standing with your Dad on this.”
“How about all those times that I told you that I was a girl, that I wasn’t a boy? What about those trips to the mall where you let me go as Megan? What about my fourteenth birthday where you took me to Ulta? We both cried after my makeover. Did that not count for something?”
“Michael, I was hoping that you would grow out of it. After your suicide attempt and your week in the hospital, I thought that you would have realized the truth. You were born a boy.”
After Michaela finished, Tim continued. “As far as I’m concerned, I don’t want to see you again until you end this charade.”
Megan ended the conversation by asserting, “I’m sorry, Mom and Dad, but this is who I am, and your arguments won’t change anything.”
Tim turned and stormed off into the house, followed closely by Michaela. Within a few seconds, the outer door slammed shut, leaving Megan standing alone by her car.
As Megan slowly strode back to the driver’s side of the car, anger and sadness burned within her. There’s nothing to be done by staying here, she thought, and looking around one last time, drove carefully out of the driveway. Knowing that she had to release her emotions at some point, Megan drove as quickly as she could to a nearby supermarket parking lot. Finding a remote space, she locked the doors and then let the flood of tears begin. It would be the better part of an hour before she would once again collect herself. She decided to call Dr. Teague as soon as she got back. But Megan had already made up her mind – she was going to live forever as Megan with or without her parents’ support.
University Campus – three hours later
After two more stops on the way back to campus, she finally arrived to a now almost-deserted campus as the sun was starting to set. Megan parked the Corolla in the lot adjacent to her dorm, but before alighting from the car, stared straight ahead, pondering her next move. Her eyes still showed signs of her earlier tears in spite of her attempt to fix her makeup to hide it.
All of a sudden, there was a loud thumping on the glass of the drivers’ side window. “You OK in there?” A fellow female student who looked the same age was tapping on the Corolla.
At five feet, six inches, Susie Templeton was a bit shorter than Megan with long, straight sandy blond hair that fell to the middle of her back. Her complexion was flawless, made even more evident by her very white, almost pasty skin. Since it was cool, but not cold, she was dressed in denim overalls paired with a long-sleeve tee shirt. The daughter of a car dealership chain executive and a registered nurse, Susie was not the kind to shy away from a situation where she felt needed.
Startled, Megan shouted, “Just a minute!” and opened the door, getting up briskly from her seat. She stepped out and stood, balancing herself against the car. Looking blankly at the girl, she answered, “Yeah, I’m OK. Just thinking.”
“You just looked really down. I was worried about you.” Pausing, the woman continued, “I’m Susie. Susie Templeton.”
“I’m Megan. Megan Phillips. And yeah, I am kinda down.”
“What’s going on, Megan”, Susie asked sympathetically as the two walked slowly to the front of the car, which was parked next to the sidewalk leading to the dorm’s entrance.
Megan pondered her answer for a couple of seconds before answering. “My parents. They kicked me out and I think they’re going to disown me.”
“WHAT? Why?”
The new girl sighed. She was going to have to share the truth with Susie, and probably, Susie would make some kind of rude remark and run off, leaving Megan to suffer alone. But the truth had to come out sometime.
Pausing, Megan sighed and began to tell her story. “Susie, what do I look like to you?”
Susie shrugged her shoulders, wondering where this story was going. “Um, a girl. Like every other girl around here.”
“Susie, I was born as a boy. All my life, though, I felt like a girl. Three years ago, I began to take hormone treatments without telling my parents, and when I got here, I finished them so that I could live as a girl. Mom and Dad didn’t like it and told me to leave and not come back.”
Susie first expressed surprise, and then not wanting to further humiliate Megan, said “Their child? They told their child that didn’t want to see her again? I can’t imagine.” With a subtle frown on her face and an audible sigh, Susie continued. “And by the way, I can’t even imagine you as a boy. As far as I’m concerned, you’re one hundred percent girl.”
At those words, Megan choked but managed a small smile as she whispered to Susie, “Thank you!”
“Stay with me for a few days”, Susie exhorted. “Let’s talk. Maybe together we can work something out. I need a roommate for next semester. Mine left to go somewhere closer to home.”
“But you don’t even know me!”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re a girl that’s going through a trauma. You don’t need to be by yourself. And I’m here. Mom and Dad are going on a cruise for Christmas, so I’ll be here for the entire Christmas break by myself, too. We can keep each other company.” Even though Susie was not one to hug total strangers, this girl’s an exception, she told herself as she hugged Megan tightly.
“Thank you! Would you mind helping me unload, Susie? I’ll take part of it to my room, then maybe I can separate some things and come to yours. Can I borrow your phone to call my doctor later on?”
“Sure! Lady, we’ll make our own Merry Christmas.”
The two made for an interesting contrast as they walked toward the dorm - the tall, darker skinned Megan formally dressed and the shorter, blond haired, very pale Susie in her overalls and t-shirt. But in spite of their differences, the two would grow and remain close for years to come.
CHAPTER 2
December, 1992 – A few days earlier at Metro Hospital (a large hospital in the same metropolitan area where Megan grew up)
Brenda Britton suffered mightily through the one and only labor that she would ever have. After a long and intense struggle, the child had finally been born and was now on an examination table in the delivery room. Her husband was nearby, as he always was. Unfortunately, Jerry Britton was a controlling alcoholic that ruled everything in her life. She almost hated to bring a child into the environment that was the Britton household. Somehow, the child would survive, she felt.
Dr. Peter Nicosa, a Family Practice physician, was completing his exam of at what first appeared to be a male child. However, he had located a small opening just below what appeared to be the child’s penis. Could this child possibly be intersexed, he asked himself. He was tempted to call in a pediatrician for a second opinion. At that moment, though, Jerry peered over Dr. Nicosa’s shoulder. At six feet two and two hundred forty pounds, he was six inches taller and ninety pounds heavier than the doctor. Nicosa felt uncomfortable with such a large presence towering over him and attempting to control the situation.
“How’s it going, Doc?” Jerry inquired.
“I think that there may be reason for me to call another doctor for a second opinion, Mr. Britton“.
Showing Jerry the small hole that he found, Nicosa continued to explain that the hole could be the result of several things. Jerry was furious. The doctor is trying to say that there’s something wrong with my son, he thought, and I’m not gonna stand for it.
“Doctor, you don’t need a goddam second opinion. Just sew the damn hole shut and let’s go down the road. I’m not worried about what might or might not be wrong with my son. Just do it.”
“But if your son has something else wrong, I want to check it out.”
“Like I said, Doctor, just sew the hole. Quit fuckin’ around with me and get it done.”
Nicosa was tempted to call Security to restrain the man. However, if Jerry turned out to be right and nothing was really wrong, then making a scene would only make things worse in the long haul for both he and his patient.
“OK. I strongly advise against it, but I’ll do it, Mr. Britton. Stay here and you can watch me do it as long as you leave your gloves, mask, and gown on.”
“Got it, Doc.”
Nicosa, now relieved, decided to make small talk. “What are you going to name your son?”
“He’s gonna be named Kyle after my dad.”
“We’ll try to take good care of Kyle, then.”
Jerry didn’t realize that his child was actually a girl with a case of Congenital Adrenal Hyperplasia. What appeared to be male genitals were actually overgrown female genitals that had grown outside instead of inside. While Nicosa was sewing up the hole that was actually her vagina, he noted that the urethral opening was not quite at the tip of the “penis”. Something was going on, and in his limited experience, he had not come across anything quite like it.
What doctor and father didn’t know, and couldn’t have known, was that Kyle was female in every way and would just need surgery to correct the external appearance of the genitalia. As the child matured, Jerry Britton would be the only one to assert that this child was male.
CHAPTER 3 – Three and a half years later
Late May, 1996
It had been just two weeks since an earthquake of life circumstances had shaken Susie Templeton. She and her roommate had suffered through it together.
On their way to their only child’s graduation, James and Joan Templeton were hit head-on when a semi-truck whose driver had fallen asleep crossed the center median of the highway. Both parents were killed instantly. Susie learned of it only a scant eighteen hours before she was to walk across the stage for her degree.
For the next week, Susie was in a fog of grief, and it was only with Megan’s help that she made it through graduation and burying her parents, all within the scant period of three days. Then there were the innumerable details to handle, including the sale of the house where she grew up and the moving and storage of their belongings. Even with her aunt’s help, Susie was almost overwhelmed with the number of decisions to be made.
All the while, Megan was begging her roommate to let her cancel their trip to Thailand, where Megan was to get genital reconstruction surgery to remove her genitals and to physically appear as, and legally be a woman. But Susie wouldn’t hear of it. In her mind, nothing should stop her roomie’s plans.
During the previous three years, Megan’s life had been a flurry of school and jobs. When she wasn’t working, she was sleeping, and when she wasn’t sleeping, she was studying, in class, or at work. A year earlier, through one of Susie’s contacts, Megan had procured a lucrative summer job in Colorado between her junior and senior year. It was so lucrative that Megan had managed to accumulate enough money to pay for the surgery and the plane fare for her and Susie to get there. With the help of grants and scholarships, Megan even had a small amount of savings to fall back on.
The psychiatrist-to-be still greatly missed her parents, and on more than one occasion, had picked up the phone to call them. Each time, though, she backed off, reasoning that if they truly regretted their actions, they could have taken the initiative to reach out to their daughter.
Ever since Megan’s disownment, the two young women had become the best of friends as well as roommates. The two had similar philosophies of life and enjoyed similar temperaments. Even with their vastly different college majors and career goals, they were able to appreciate their differences and had little feeling of competition.
This day, though, both young women were running purely on adrenaline. The traumas of the last two weeks and the anticipation of Megan’s surgery had worn out both girls. The twenty-four hour series of flights to Bangkok was still ahead of them.
Megan and Susie scrambled around their apartment, making sure that they hadn’t left anything that would be needed on the trip. Susie had elected to take her car to the airport, since she knew that she would certainly be the one to drive on their arrival back home.
Other than a few changes of clothes, Megan’s bags were full of post-surgical supplies and snack food. As a result, the two young women were miraculously able to keep their baggage down to one suitcase apiece plus their carry-ons.
Finally satisfied, they ran down the stairs to Susie’s car. Not knowing about the traffic situation, they didn’t want to be late for the plane.
Once settled in the car, Megan began talking excitedly to her roommate. “Thank you again for agreeing to go with me. And I wouldn’t have had my surgery this early if hadn’t been for that connection in getting me the job driving the jeep in Colorado.”
Susie smiled back. For now, she could forget the last two weeks and concentrate on the trip ahead of them. Brushing her long blond hair out of her face, she quickly pulled out into traffic from the university’s parking lot. “Anytime, girl. And as far as Thailand, you’re the one that paid my ticket, remember?”
“Yeah. But it sure made it an easy choice – spend the money and get a “nurse” that speaks English, or spend the money and maybe get someone who speaks only Thai with a little English on the side.”
“And remember that the assistance covers the flight back, too. Somebody’s gotta push the wheelchair.”
“Oh, yeah, that too.”
“OK, let’s see, the flight over, being with you before and after surgery, and pushing the wheelchair around the airport to get you home. I’m working too cheap.”
“I’ll make it up to you. Free counseling forever.”
“Deal.”
In a sense, Megan had lost her parents, as had Susie. As well as helping Susie with all of the business and personal arrangements, Megan counselled Susie in order to at least partially relieve the trauma. The fact that Susie was giving Megan a hard time about the trip was a sign to the latter that healing was indeed taking place.
By making the trip to Thailand, Megan was able to save thousands of dollars on her surgery. It was worth the gamble, and since the first year of graduate school would start in three months, having it done and over with was attractive. It was also fortunate that Megan and Susie would remain roommates the next year. While Megan would be starting on her M.A. in Psychology, Susie was to begin work on her M.B.A.
The flights were uneventful, but in spite of that, two very jet-lagged and tired young women staggered into the Bangkok airport almost twenty four hours later. Fortunately, a driver from the doctor’s office was waiting for them, and whisked them off to a hotel adjoining the clinic where the surgery was to be performed.
It was only sixty hours from their departure that a very groggy Megan was ready to be whisked into the operating room. Both girls were teary-eyed due to their physical and emotional exhaustion. But while Megan was excited about her surgery, the separation plus the risk of something happening to Megan during surgery weighed heavily on Susie’s heart. Having just lost her parents, she didn’t want anything to happen to Megan.
After the nurses took Megan back to the operating room, Susie choked back tears in the waiting room. She prayed in the best way that she could, not having been to church since she was a small child. The prayer brought her relief, and she spent the rest of the wait with a couple of books that she brought with her.
After six hours, an excited and smiling Thai nurse came to the waiting room. “You can come with me. She in recovery, doing ok” she told Susie in broken English. Susie smiled back and said “Thank you!” through tears that were now falling down her cheek.
It took Megan a while to come completely awake, and once she was awake enough to talk, she found Susie hovering over her.
“Welcome back, sis!” Susie exclaimed, starting a tradition that would span the rest of their lives. She had never called Megan a “sis”, but it seemed appropriate given everything that had happened during the last two weeks.
Megan sleepily stared back at her best friend. “Hey, I made it. Or at least I think I did.”
“You did! Welcome to womanhood!”
“Finally. Now maybe I can get my birth certificate to match.”
“That’s only paperwork. You’ve been a girl since I’ve known you.”
“Thank you! I love you, Susie.”
As Megan began to drift back to sleep, she replied, “I love you, too, Megan.”
It would be several more days before the pair could fly home, but “best friends forever” would apply to them for the rest of their lives.
CHAPTER 4 – Almost Four Years Later
February, 2001 through June, 2001 – Metro Hospital Mental Health Unit
Megan Phillips had started her psychiatric residency just six months earlier at Metro Hospital. The tall, slender 26-year-old woman with Cherokee (Native American) features, round glasses, and straight black hair that was in a ponytail most of the time, had garnered the attention of another psychiatric resident, Matt Belwick.
She had dated a few times in her college career, but with her schedule of work and classes, it was difficult to have any steady relationship. In fact, Megan hadn’t been on a date with anyone more than twice. For personal reasons, Megan believed that a woman should be a virgin until her wedding night. Once that men found out that she wasn’t available for sex, they moved on.
Megan’s past was a troubling problem to her, as well. She felt that she needed to divulge her past as a male before anyone became serious in their relationship with her. It was a problem that all trans-women faced at one time or another, especially since some men reacted violently to the news.
Belwick couldn’t have known it, but Megan was attracted to him. It was his intelligence and his sense of humor that caught her attention. His six-foot-three height didn’t hurt anything, either, as Megan constantly felt that she towered over everyone, especially when she wore heels.
One day, the two encountered each other as they were trying to find a seat in the doctors’ reserved area of the cafeteria at lunchtime. There was only one table available, and though Belwick was willing to let Megan have it, she wanted to share. So the two sat down together and slowly began a conversation. Both doctors, although able to talk to their patients without issues, were shy when it came to new acquaintances of the opposite gender.
Both of them struggled to make conversation until they began to talk about their mutual experiences as psych residents. There were the inevitable stories of suicide attempts, patients attempting to break out, and distraught parents seeing their child hospitalized for mental issues.
Before long, their lunch break was gone, and both had to get back to their respective work areas. As Matt prepared to leave, he asked Megan if she’d like to go out for dinner somewhere other than in a hospital. With a smile, she admitted that she would. Trading phone numbers, they hastily departed to different areas within the mental health unit.
A few days later, Megan received a pleasant surprise. Immediately after a conference concerning a patient, she was sitting in a small office when her cell phone rang. Retrieving the cell phone from her pocket, she looked at the caller ID and answered it with a smile.
“Hello, Megan Phillips.”
“Hi, this is Matt Belwick. I was wondering if you had off tomorrow night and if you’d be interested in dinner?”
“Hi, Matt. Yes and yes! I’d be delighted.”
“What time would be good for you?”
“How about 7:30? I should be home and changed by then.”
“Great. Give me your address and I’ll pick you up.”
Megan gave Matt her address, exchanged a few more pleasantries and then hung up. Smiling, she gave a fist pump with a quiet “Yes!” to herself. She couldn’t wait to get back to the apartment to tell Susie.
The next evening came, and Megan hurried home so that she could change. Putting on a dress that emphasized her slender build and her height, she also purposely chose low heeled shoes so that she wouldn’t come close to Matt’s height. With only six inches between them, she wanted to look up at him, not across.
Susie inspected Megan before the appointed time and gave a whistle and “You go, girl!!” when asked for her opinion.
At 7:35, Matt arrived at the apartment. When Megan opened the door, she saw a ruffled Matt still in the clothes that he was wearing at the hospital.
“Hi. Sorry about my appearance. Late case.”
“It’s OK”, Megan giggled. “It happens to all of us.”
The couple continued their exchanges and Matt finally took Megan to his SUV, a Nissan Pathfinder that was neither too old nor too new.
To say that the date was successful was an understatement. The two began talking as soon as they sat down at the restaurant and didn’t stop until the restaurant closed at 11:00. Matt took Megan back to her apartment. Then the two sat and talked another thirty minutes in the Pathfinder before Megan interrupted with a “Do you know what time it is?”
“Shoot, I need to be at the hospital at 6:00. Oh, well, what’s sleep? I sure enjoyed this, though. You’re an awesome woman, Megan.”
“Thank you. And it was so good to spend time with someone who understands. And Matt, you’re awesome, too.”
“We’ll do it again, soon, I hope.”
“I’d like that, too.”
The two exchanged a quick peck on the cheek, and Megan alit from the SUV waving to Matt before he drove off.
Megan went to the door of the apartment and the second the door opened, a squeal erupted from her roommate who had spent the previous ten minutes spying on them from the window. For the next thirty minutes, they would share the experience before Megan realized that she, too, had to arise early.
Susie was thrilled for her best friend. She was afraid that Megan would become “married to her job” and never enjoy herself with a man. Matt was also on the same page morally, and he wasn’t in any hurry to sleep with someone before marriage.
Megan and Matt became close quickly, and after just a few dates, Megan sensed that it was time for a speech that she had been rehearsing for some time but had never delivered. The two were sitting outside in the Pathfinder in a theater parking lot enjoying a private conversation following a movie. Megan caught herself thinking about the possibility of a passionate kiss. It was now or never, she decided, as she made sure that the door at her side was unlocked in case that there was a problem. Finally there was a break, and Megan decided that it was time to reveal the truth about herself.
“Matt, there’s something that I need to tell you.”
“What about?”
“About me.”
“Oh, about that assault conviction from when you were a teen-ager. It’s OK.”
Megan reacted with a frown, causing Matt to burst out laughing.
“Matt, please, I’m serious.”
Sensing the moment, Matt quickly recovered and began to listen intently and seriously.
“Matt, I’m not all that I seem to be. I mean, there are things in my history that..”
Matt interrupted her, “If you’re talking about being a male to female transsexual, I know all about that.”
“But how? I mean, it’s not general knowledge. It’s not something that I’ve gone around broadcasting.”
Megan looked at Matt with a worried expression.
“Kasey the hen told me. She was worried about how I would react when I found out.” Kasey was a head nurse in the unit and routinely kept an eye on the new residents to help them be successful. He stopped a minute to gather his thoughts, then continued. “Look, Megan, I don’t care if you were an elephant in your prior life. Whenever I look at you, I see a beautiful young woman who’s dedicated to her job and has more love than anyone else has ever shown me. I don’t care if you can’t have children – the world has more kids that need adopting than it can handle. And you know what - you have more love to give than 99.9% of the women in this world. I’m just glad to be your friend and I hope that I’m good enough so that we can keep a good thing going.”
She looked at him with a stunned expression, then began to comprehend what he said. He sat quietly with sympathy on his face. Megan began to tear up. Matt held out his arms and she fell into them, both giving and receiving the most genuine hug that each had ever had.
The two regarded each other from that moment as serious candidates for marriage. Neither was willing to express it, though. It was too soon to give significant weight to such thoughts, as both shared deep hurts from earlier in their lives that would have to heal first. But that didn’t stop them from continuing to spend as much time together as possible.
One Tuesday in June, the two encountered each other in an employee break room at the Mental Health Unit. Matt was totally exhausted, having gotten little sleep in the previous forty-eight hours. His slumping shoulders, swollen eyes, and blank expression left no doubt in Megan’s mind. She was worried about him and expressed it firmly.
“Matt, you need to go to the sleep room and get some shut-eye. You’re going to mess up and either say the wrong thing or prescribe the wrong medication or something.”
“I’ll be OK. I get off in just a few hours, then I’ll head home and get some sleep. I have off ‘til Friday.”
Squeezing his hand, she forcefully said, “Promise me you’ll just go to one of the resident sleep rooms. I don’t want you driving!”
They talked for a few more minutes, then both realized that the break room was empty except for the two of them. Exchanging a quick kiss, they traded “I love you” greetings. Then Matt added, “I hope that you’ll take this good care of me when you’re my wife.”
Although temporarily taken aback, Megan smilingly retorted, “The next time you use the word “wife”, buddy, you better have a ring to back it up!”
Matt then realized his mistake, blushing as he answered. “Oh, my God! I’m so sorry. I was just thinking…”
Smiling back at him, Megan giggled and squeezing his hand added, “I know. I’ve thought the same thing, too. A lot. Look, you better get back. We’ve been in here for at least ten minutes.”
Matt leaned across to kiss Megan with a huge smile on his face, and whispered “I love you. Thanks for making my day.”
Megan whispered back, “I love you, too.” Then she quickly added with a broad smile, “Now get back to work, slacker!”
Matt left the room with a huge grin. Unfortunately, the couple didn’t get a chance to talk again.
After having two restful days off, Matt returned to a rotation in the emergency intake section of the hospital. Unstable mental patients were first brought in to this area, no matter the reason. There were two sections to the unit, making occasional traversing of the lobby necessary. Only an hour into his shift, Matt was making such a crossing through the lobby area when he was approached by an unshaven middle-aged man who shakily held his hand inside a jacket that he was wearing. Spotting the man’s demeanor, the resident psychiatrist temporarily froze and before he knew it, his worst nightmare was beginning.
Removing his hand from beneath the jacket, the man brandished a .357 pistol which he pointed directly at Matt. With a voice as shaky as his hand, he began yelling, “My brother is in this here facility. I’ve come to get him out.”
At the sight of the gun, everyone in the lobby froze. One of the staff managed to run back inside the unit and called security. But most of the security force was occupied with another incident in the main hospital’s emergency room, so it was going to be several minutes before help could arrive. Matt was on the front line with an increasingly filled lobby full of people staring at he and the gunman.
An increasingly nervous Matt was thinking, but was coming up short of ideas on how to effectively defuse the obviously unstable gunman. But he decided to try.
Matt pointed to one of the conference rooms adjacent to the lobby. “Sir, why don’t we step inside here? I can get some more information from you and maybe we can talk.”
“I’m not here to talk! We’re beyond talkin’, sir. My brother’s in here to dry out for the fourth time. You people aren’t doin’ any good. Me and my family, we want to get him outta here and take him back to my sister’s house. She can help him better than anybody. Prob’ly won’t have to be back in one of these places.”
“What’s his name?” Now, Matt was visibly shaking. Unknown to him, one of the staff unwisely called Megan. Alarmed, Megan ran downstairs to join a throng that had gathered on one side of the lobby. Because of her height, she could clearly see what was going on, even though she was at the back of the crowd.
The lobby suddenly grew quiet as everyone struggled to hear what was being discussed.
The gunman talked and continued to wave the gun around, keeping it pointed at Matt. “Name’s Charlie Shaw. I’m Pete Shaw, his brother. Now, take me to him. I’m gettin’ tired of just standin’ here.”
A security guard finally appeared, coming in from a side door that hadn’t been blocked by the observing crowd. Not knowing what was happening, he hesitated to signal to the people gathered in the lobby to leave, at least for the moment.
Matt continued to try to reason with Pete, but nervousness and the crowd rattled Pete’s nerves.
Across the lobby, Megan was shaking with fear. I just hope that Matt keeps his wits about him and maybe he’ll get this guy to calm down, she told herself.
Matt and Pete continued to talk, but it was becoming apparent that Pete was getting agitated, a dangerous condition for someone with a gun. Matt had failed to calm his nerves, and even though the crowd was finally dispersing on orders of the security guard, Pete was more than determined to break out his brother.
Finally, Pete gave one last order. “Doctor whatever-your-name-is, I came in here to git my brother out. Now are you gonna let me do that, or do I have to do somethin’ we’ll both regret?”
Matt hesitated, but decided to make one more plea. “Sir, if you’d just give us a minute..”
Pete discharged his weapon, and the bullet struck Matt directly in the heart. Megan shrieked at the turn of events and began yelling and shrieking “Matt!” By this time, two other security guards had come to the lobby, but had hesitated to intervene on Matt’s behalf because they were afraid of such a thing happening.
Pete stood by, shaking as he stared at Matt. He was unaware of the guards, and they took advantage of the situation to finally move in. While one guard held a gun at Pete’s back, the other took his gun from him. Pete was not in a mood to resist. In desperation, he took someone’s life, and too late, realized that the whole situation that he created was stupid. Now, someone was dead, and he was going to spend the rest of his life in prison.
Megan waited until the guards had Pete secured, then rushed over to see about her boyfriend, but was beaten by several other medical staff. Finally, she was able to get close enough to him, but recognized that she was too late to help. Hands to her face, she began shrieking and crying. After standing there for several seconds, one of the other staff members took hold of her and moved her back in order to let other doctors attend to Matt. But it was too late for them all. Matt quickly bled out, his blood spreading in an ever-increasing pool on the lobby floor.
Shortly afterward, the police arrived, and escorted Pete to their car for a trip to the county jail. With hospital security camera footage as evidence, there would be virtually no chance for his acquittal from murder charges.
Finally, Megan was hustled back to a staff break room, where she composed herself enough to call Susie.
On hearing Megan’s tears, she hurriedly made the ten-minute drive from her office to the hospital. After a lot of explanation, she was finally let in to the employee area where Megan was still sitting, now calm, but was staring at the walls in an almost numb look on her face.
Susie greeted her with a hug and Megan’s tears began to flow once again. The two began talking in between Megan’s sobs. Susie and Megan had many long conversations after the death of Susie’s parents, and now was payback time.
Susie started, “I mean, it was on the news that a resident had been killed by a gunman. But they didn’t give any details.”
“Matt was crossing the lobby and this nasty looking guy stops him to ask about a patient. He starting talking to him, then the guy pulls a gun. Matt tried to get him calmed down, but there was a crowd in the lobby. Everybody was staring at him, and it made him nervous. Finally, he gets tired of talking to Matt, then s-hhh-oots him.” Megan began to quietly sob again.
It took another couple of minutes until Megan could talk again. Susie decided to ask Megan more questions.
“One of the people outside said that you ran up to him afterwards.”
“As soon as they cuffed the shooter, I ran over to Matt. Once I got a good look at him, I realized that there wasn’t any chance for him, so I started crying. Then a nurse came and brought me back here.”
Megan paused, then continued. “Susie, he was the first one that I was ever in love with. We hadn’t talked about it yet, but both of us knew that we were going to be married sometime down the road.”
“Oh, my God. I mean, I knew that you were crazy about each other, but I didn’t know that it was that serious.”
Megan nodded, then continued through her tears. “Matt and I were like two magnets the size of a pea bouncing around inside a boxcar. By some million-to-one chance, we happened to click. We were perfect for each other. What I couldn’t do, he could. What he couldn’t do, I could.” She paused for a moment, then looked with sad eyes toward Susie. Then blubbering, “He’s gone. He’s gone. What am I supposed to do now? He was perfect and I loved him.”
Susie had been best friends with Megan for over seven years, but early in their relationship, she realized that no matter how much of a woman that Megan appeared to be, she didn’t have the experience of teen-age crushes and breakups. Susie remembered the first kiss that Megan received from a date, so at age 20 was prancing around their campus apartment like a 13-year-old. Even though Megan had breakups in the past, this was her best friend’s first serious relationship.
Susie hugged Megan for several minutes until the latter calmed down. “Look at me”, she admonished Megan. The psychiatrist looked back at her with sad eyes. She had witnessed this from her friend before and knew that it was time to pay attention.
“Sometimes bad things happen to us, just like a forest fire. The fire devastates everything. But what happens? The forest recovers. My parents took me to the Rockies when I was twelve and Dad taught me about it. The aspens come back first and shade the pine trees. Then the pine trees grow up and protect the aspens. All the while, the forest floor is rejuvenating itself.” Pausing for a moment, Susie continued. “Like you said, it seemed like Matt might have been ‘the one’”.
Taking Megan’s face in her hands, Susie looked at her straight in the eye. “But Megan Anne Phillips, there will be someone for you at the right time. But you’re going to learn from this and be stronger. Remember, I love you, sister.” Susie had done all that she could do. After hugging Megan one more time, she told her, “Sit here for just a few minutes. I’ll be right back.”
She went out to the hallway and located a nurse. She wanted to talk to a supervisor, because it was evident to her that Megan probably wouldn’t be able to work for several days and might need counseling to get over the grief of her loss. Fortunately, Megan’s direct supervisor suddenly appeared, and identifying herself, began to tell the supervisor of her concerns. The two were in agreement, and in a few minutes, both were on their way to the break room.
Megan was relieved of duty for the next week, and ordered to attend grief counseling. Like many first loves, though, Megan would get over the grief through time, but would always carry Matt in her heart
This is an expanded version of a story which I wrote and posted here two years ago.
The story is dedicated to all young trans-women, particularly teens, who feel that their "condition" will always define or label them. As this story shows, that's not the case at all. Megan Phillips (born Michael) transitions and goes on to become a student, a friend, a doctor, a mother, and a wife - much as any other woman. In the end, she dies having lived her life as a woman, not as a trans-woman or some other term. Like any story, there are tragedies, victories, and side issues that influence life, and Megan is certainly no exception.
I'm posting this in 8 segments, as the entire work is over 78,000 words - a bit lengthy for reading at one seating.
The only warning that I give is that a number of people die due to circumstances in the story. Also, if you are averse to Christians or to associated prayer/Bible reading, this might be worth skipping. Megan becomes a Christian in the story, and while it's not an active part of the story, her faith is touched on from time to time.
I would appreciate any comments or suggestions that you might make. Thank you for any comments.
CHAPTER 5 – Three years, ten months later
April, 2005 – the Emperor Bar
Susie Templeton was drunk again.
Four years earlier, just before Matt Belwick’s death, she had joined the local branch of one of Wall Street’s largest investment houses. The stint was a huge boon to her career. Considered to be the best and brightest of their “rookie” investment counselors, they gave her a choice clientele. She responded by garnering substantial gains for their investment portfolios. But over time, it taxed her brain almost to its breaking point. Several months earlier, she had begun to seek solace and escape in alcohol and now it was a nightly ritual.
In spite of their busy schedules and separate apartments, Megan had tried to talk to her on more than one occasion about her nightly binging, but to no avail. Susie was in no mood to listen. She had found something that had worked for her in spite of the toll it was taking on her body and mind. She had gained weight and her once trim body now sported a growing pot belly. Her skin and hair, once the envy of the others in her office, now appeared unkempt at times and oily.
But the biggest effect was on her mind. Once able to juggle multiple tasks with almost limitless energy, now she was barely able to keep up with the myriad of tasks that faced her each day. She compensated by working longer hours, but that only made her want to drink more. In spite of attempts to hide her issue, she knew that her performance was slipping, and this merely added more reasons to imbibe.
But on this Friday night, she was determined to drown herself at the Emperor Bar, where several of her new drinking friends gathered each week. But after a few hours, knowing how drunk that she was, the bartender wanted her out of there before she passed out. Since it was just after midnight, there would still be patrons coming and going for some time. A passed out patron would be bad for business, he decided. Asking her friends to help her stumble to her car gave him a bit of solace that if she did hurt someone on the short drive home, that he hadn’t directly contributed to her driving.
The friends obliged, and after multiple attempts to get her in the car, the group succeeded. But after a few minutes of laughing and talking, they returned inside, leaving Susie alone. The happiness that she felt inside the bar was fast waning. I need to go home, she told herself. All of the bad thoughts were returning to her head, and there was enough booze at home to once again drown them out. Sitting unsteadily upright in the Mustang, Susie was about to start the car when her phone rang. By some miracle, she located it quickly in her purse and without looking at the display, answered it.
“Helllo?” In spite of desperately wanting to sound sober, Susie’s efforts failed badly.
“Susie, where are you? I’ve been worried about you.” It was Megan, who had been unsuccessfully calling Susie’s phone for the past three hours.
“Jus’ down here at the Emperor enjoyin’ myself. Jus’ got back to the car.”
“You don’t sound like you need to be driving anywhere. How ‘bout I come and take you home?”
“No, I’ll be OK. I promish. Ish just three blocks that way, or is it that way? I don’t remember.” Susie began to emit a silly laugh.
Megan sighed. She’s darned lucky to have not been picked up for DUI ever, she reflected. But even the three blocks from the Emperor to home might be too much.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes. Sit there – don’t you drive anywhere.”
“But I’ll be OK. Ish just a little ways ‘way.”
“No! You just sit there.”
“OK – you win. This time. But next time, I’m goin’ home myshelf.”
“All right. I’ll see you in a few minutes. Bye.”
“Bye, girl. Once we get to my ‘partment, you can have a drink, too. We can enjoy ourshelves.”
“No, thank you. Bye.”
“Party pooper”, the drunk lady said her phone. Megan had already hung up.
Putting aside her anger for the moment, Megan hurried downstairs from her apartment to the parking lot where her aging Corolla waited.
Within five minutes, Megan pulled up alongside Susie’s Mustang in the parking lot adjacent to the bar. Hopping out, Megan went around and opened the passenger door of her car before going to the drivers’ door of the Mustang. Seeing Megan at her car, Susie gathered her purse, opened the door and began to unsteadily alight from it.
“Hhhii, Megan. Thanksh for coming. We can go to my apartment and party shum more there.”
“Susie, you just need to go home. We don’t need to party at all. You’re drunk as hell, girl.”
“I know. Idn’t it great?”
Megan held Susie’s arm as the drunk woman staggered to Megan’s car.
In spite of the stench of alcohol, Megan got a close-up look at her friend and what she saw disturbed and frightened her. Susie’s shoulder length permed hair was unkempt. Her gray and white skirt suit that once flattered her body was straining to contain the extra weight that had piled on Susie’s body. Instead of flawless skin that Megan was used to seeing on her friend, splotchy makeup added to an oily mess. The picture of her friend in such a state disheartened and depressed Megan. This is not my friend. The Susie that I know would never get to this state, Megan told herself.
Falling into the seat, Susie yelled, “Whee” as Megan helped her turn around and get her seat belt on. It was obvious that her addiction had not only left her out of shape, but looking four months’ pregnant as well.
As Megan returned to the driver’s seat, she seated herself and slammed the door, obviously angry with her best friend.
“Susie, what in hell…” She paused as she glanced over to see a now-sleeping drunk. Sighing, Megan alit from her car once again and ascertained that the Mustang was locked. Returning to the Corolla, she almost gagged at the alcohol scent that emanated.
Once Megan made the short drive to Susie’s apartment, she carefully unloaded her sleepy friend and with difficulty, got her awake enough to get her inside the ground level of her building and to her door. Fortunately, Megan had a key to Susie’s apartment and wrestled her friend to an awaiting couch. Susie collapsed on it and was asleep again within seconds to her friend’s disgust. It had been a difficult task to half-carry Susie along with two purses.
Megan removed Susie’s purse from her shoulder and plopped it soundly on the dining room table. Then she announced with a loud voice, “Good night, Susie!” as she walked out the door locking it behind her. The disheveled drunk woman didn’t awaken until the following morning.
In spite of her late night rescue of Susie, Megan arose early and was grocery shopping around 9:30 the next morning when her cell phone rang. Retrieving it from her purse, she noticed the number on the caller ID and sighed audibly before answering it.
“Susie?”
“Did you bring me home last night? My car’s not outside.”
“Yes, I brought you home. You were smashed out of your mind at the Emperor again.”
“I wondered. Ooh, my head hurts.”
“I’m not surprised. You went to sleep in my car and I had to drag you inside. You were pretty out of it. By the way, your car’s in the lot at the Emperor.” Megan was unsympathetic.
“OK, as soon as I get over this headache, I’ll walk over and get it.”
“I’m going to the gym later. You want to go with me? Maybe work off some of last night’s calories?”
“I dunno. I am getting fat, though. Too much work. ”
“Too much booze, you mean. Susie, you have to stop this. You’re gonna kill yourself if you don’t kill somebody else first. I know that you’re driving home drunk about every night. If somebody even tries to cross the street in those three blocks, you’d run over them without even veering.”
“I know, but it’s the only way that I can get unwound. Work is a bitch.”
“Susie, get off the booze and find another job, or we’re not friends anymore. I’m tired of taking care of you like this.”
“After all this time, and after all we’ve been through?”
“And all of the denial that you’re in right now. You’re darn right that I would end our friendship. I would rather do that than watch you destroy yourself. If you can’t do it yourself, there are plenty of programs out there that can. Now go get some medicine for your headache, get your car, then come back to your apartment and think about what I said. And if you decide to booze it up again at the Emperor tonight, don’t call me to rescue you.”
Megan slammed her flip phone shut and almost threw it back in her purse. She spent the next fifteen minutes wandering the grocery store aisles in order to calm herself. Even as a psychiatrist, you lose hope trying to help someone, especially if she’s your best friend, she sadly thought.
Susie, however, took the route that came naturally the past several months. She found an unopened bottle of vodka in her apartment’s kitchen and poured herself a drink straight up. It wasn’t long until she had drunk herself into a stupor even worse than the previous evening’s debacle. Passing out on her couch, she awakened eighteen hours later and staggered to her kitchen seeking relief for the pounding headache of a hangover.
Looking at the clock, she wondered why it was dark outside until she realized that it was shortly after four - in the morning. Darn, it’s Sunday morning, she thought to herself. No liquor store open at this hour. Maybe I have enough in my opened bottles to get me through, though.
But before imbibing again, she decided to take a break and let the drugs take effect, hopefully relieving her headache once again.
Susie dimmed her living room lights and turned on the television. She paid a lot of money for cable service that she seldom used. But at this hour of the morning, there was a religious program on. Most times, she would have flipped the channel automatically. But she began to listen. The minister, a woman, was speaking about self-destruction and how God had helped her to overcome her drug and alcohol habit.
After thirty minutes, Susie was in tears, ashamed of what she had done to herself. Reluctantly, she picked up the phone and dialed the number on the screen. I need all the prayer that I can get, she told herself. On the other end of the line, an elderly woman answered. Verbally stumbling at first, Susie told the woman why she called, that she was ashamed of her nightly drinking and the resultant damage to her reputation at work and to her physical body.
The woman listened carefully and prayed with Susie, encouraging her to find a church to attend, as well as a recovery group to stay accountable. A feeling washed over her, something more powerful and calming than the booze had ever been. Susie knew that she couldn’t use alcohol to escape any longer, that something else would have to take its place. God or Jesus or whatever, she knew that she had to find out more. Thanking the woman profusely, Susie hung up and vowed to change the way she was heading.
Flipping on her computer, she began to research churches in the area. Having seldom attended, some of the terms like “Holy Spirit” and “Evangelical” were unfamiliar. But after looking around, she found a nearby church that sounded open and friendly. The woman had told her, “If you don’t like the first one you walk into, then find another one ‘til you find one that suits you.”
Shortly after 7:00, she was done with her research. It was time to do the next thing – to pour out all of the alcohol that she had accumulated in her apartment.
Before she started, though, she had to use the bathroom. Instead of avoiding the full-length mirror on the back of the door, Susie took a good look at herself and what she saw shocked and dismayed her. Her once trim body was flabby and ill-defined. There was a pot belly instead of a flat stomach. Her thighs jiggled as she slapped them. Her hair was limp, ill kempt, and had little shine.
She became angry at herself, but then the woman’s words from the prayer line came back to her. ‘Don’t blame yourself, with God’s help, just change’, the woman admonished. Leaving the bathroom in tears once again, it would be easy to take the next step.
Returning to the kitchen, Susie poured bottle after bottle of alcohol down the drain, placing the empties in a box that she had placed next to the kitchen sink. Afterward, she took the bottles to the apartment trash dumpster and heaved them in, causing a loud crash of glass breaking.
Walking back to her apartment, Susie walked inside and promptly began sniffling again. After a few minutes, she knew what she had to do. Realizing that it was nearing 8:00, she thought that Megan might be up.
Dialing the number, it was three rings before it was answered. It was a rare morning – Megan was still sleeping – but as soon as the psychiatrist answered, she dried her tears and tried to talk normally.
“Megan, I’m sorry to wake you up this early.”
“You’re not drunk. You’re not hung over. What happened?”
“Megan, it’s all gone. I got rid of it. There isn’t an ounce of alcohol in the apartment anymore.”
“What happened?”
“It’s kind of a long story. But I want to go to church today. Would you go with me?”
“Church? OoooK. But I’m still curious.” Megan, even though her career was in its infancy, was jaded by those who claimed to have a quick turnaround. She knew that her best friend had a strong will, but a destructive habit normally wasn’t overcome with one decision.
Susie went through the whole story with Megan – about her drunkenness, waking up early in the morning, but most of all turning on the television to the religious program.
“Susie, don’t go overboard. Are you sure that you were ready to throw out the alcohol? What happens the next time that you have a bad day? Are you going to head on down to the Emperor and get yourself drunk once again? Or are you going to liquor store to buy a bottle?”
“No. I’m not going there anymore. The whole alcohol and getting drunk thing was a hole. I was throwing my life away!”
“So you’re going to throw alcohol out and become one of those religious crazies?” Megan regretted the question the second that it left her. Even though she hadn’t been in church in years, she hated to categorize people. But even God has let me down, Megan thought, as she sadly remembered the prayers of her youth. Why would God let my parents do what they did? They went to church, albeit occasionally. Wasn’t God a loving entity?
Fortunately, Susie didn’t catch the cutting remark. “No! I just feel like that I belong in church – somehow. I can’t explain it. I just need to go this morning. Would you go with me? There’s a church called Calvary Hill just down the block from me. On their website, it sounds like a church full of young people, kind of like us.”
“Are you forgetting one thing? Churches don’t want my kind around. I mean, all I’d have to do is say, ‘I used to be a boy’ and they’d escort me out of there quicker than you know what.”
“Nobody has to know that. When I met you, there was no way in the world that I would have guessed. And now that’s the case for sure. How many people around the hospital know?
“Not many. And I want to keep it that way for right now.”
“So don’t tell anybody at the church.”
Megan knew that she was on the losing end of the argument, and she was relieved that Susie wanted to do something other than drink.
“OK. What time is the service?”
“10:30. I’ll be by to pick you up at 10:15.” Oh, and I have to go pick up my car, Susie reminded herself, since her car was still parked at the Emperor parking lot. I hope it’s still OK, she told herself.
“OK. You’ve talked me into it. I’ll go with you.” With relief, Megan decided that it was safe to ride with Susie for the first time in a long time.
Susie pulled up to Megan’s apartment a few minutes early. Fortunately, the psychiatrist was waiting outside for her. Peering inside the car before opening the door, she was delighted to see that the “old Susie” was back again. In spite of her clothes being too tight, she looked like a professional in casual clothes with her makeup perfect and her hair in place. Megan smiled broadly at her friend as she sat down.
“Thank you for going with me. This is the first time that I’ve been to church since I was a little girl” Susie said to Megan as she sat down.
“You’re welcome”, Megan answered, not really sure how to react to such a sudden turnaround in her friend.
As she drove off from Megan’s apartment, Susie continued, “Look, I’ve been thinking, I need to buy some new clothes until I can lose this extra weight. I can’t believe how fat I’ve let myself get. After church, would you go with me to the mall so I can get a few things?”
Megan could scarcely believe what she was hearing. This was the pre-alcohol Susie speaking again. This has been some kind of miracle, she thought to herself.
“Sure. I need to go to the gym, too. You want to go with me afterwards?”
“I would love to. But I probably won’t last too long on the treadmill.”
“Just walk to start with.”
“That sounds like a good idea.”
At that moment, they passed some runners on a trail alongside the road.
“That’s what I’d really like to do”, Susie remarked.
“Me, too. I’ve always thought that would be so great – get some fresh air, some stress relief, along with the exercise.”
“You want to try that this afternoon, instead?”
“We need some running shoes, Susie. And some clothes.”
“Great. Maybe we can look for that this afternoon, too.”
“OK. You’re on.”
Inwardly, Megan celebrated the seeming return of her friend. Let’s see how long this lasts, she told herself.
The pair arrived at Calvary Hill at 10:25 and were promptly guided to a parking place by a long-haired teen boy dressed in jeans and a bright red hoodie. Well, this is different than those stuffy places that Mom and Dad used to haul me to on Easter, Megan reflected. She still cringed at the memories of having to wear a suit and tie on such occasions.
The pair alit from the Mustang and made their way to the entrance. Once inside, they were greeted warmly by a man and his wife not much older than Megan and Susie. Then they entered the sanctuary, a long high room that was plainly equipped with a tile floor and padded folding chairs. On the stage was a simple podium, a wooden cross on a stand, and numerous instruments for a band, the latter of which began playing with words like hymns but with a beat of rock music.
The service began with a prayer. After the prayer, there were was more “praise music” accompanied by guitars, drums, vocalists, and even a trumpet. Then came the sermon, a passionate message that struck to the heart of what Susie had just experienced with her drinking. Tears kept coming to her eyes during the message as she realized just how far down that she had fallen.
Megan, on the other hand, came into church totally unprepared to face her feelings, which was odd considering her profession. But as the sermon was being delivered, she thought about her circumstances. Her life consisted of her work and little else outside her friendship with Susie and a few others. Because of her parents’ rejection, she had no family with which to share. Megan still hurt from the death of Matt Belwick, as well. Throughout the message, she recognized how empty her life had become and how much “baggage” that she carried from life. In a way, she was just like Susie, except that she hadn’t given in to a destructive habit. She needed something more, a purpose. A feeling of calm swept over her. Maybe the answer was there in front of her if she would just give into it, she decided.
In the seat next to Megan, the words “I need Jesus” kept echoing through Susie’s mind. At the end of the service was an invitation for prayer while the band continued to play. Susie started forward, but turned first to her friend and whispered, “Are you coming, too?” Megan nodded to her friend, scrambling as best she could from the row of chairs, closely following Susie to an area at the front of the church where several had gathered to pray for others.
The prayer would be a turning point in the women’s lives. A middle-age mother of five prayed with the pair, first for their acceptance of Christ, and the second, for healing. Susie prayed for forgiveness for all that she had done, to others and to herself.
Megan’s response was much more cerebral. She told God that she needed Him, and asked if He forgive her for all the things that she had done wrong in her life. She also asked for the strength to forgive her parents for rejecting her.
While they responded differently, each woman made a lifelong commitment, starting down a path that would lead to healing for both of them. Susie had decided to use some of the money that she had saved, quit her job and open up her own investment advisory business. Megan decided to forgive her parents and to treat each of her patients as God’s children and not her own.
For each of them, this church service was not the end of their issues. It would take time for Susie to forget about the bottle. For several more months, she would slip and go to a bar and imbibe heavily. But each time, while still sober enough to reason, she would call Megan in tears, and the psychiatrist would respond with help and encouragement. At the end of the year, Susie was a teetotaler except for an occasional glass of wine with dinner.
For Megan, there were hurts that were deeply buried, and it would also take more time for them to be resolved. While still upset at losing her parents, Megan was no longer embittered at their actions. Not yet ready to face them, she decided that a reunion would come about sometime. As for being transgender, Megan was no longer ashamed. Christ didn’t demand that she go back and “change back” to a boy. Her sins were forgiven and God could work through her as a complete and reconciled person. Over the next several months, she would also finally complete her grieving for Matt Belwick.
After church, the two went shopping and to the gym as promised. As Megan had feared, an overweight and out of shape Susie didn’t make it far on the treadmill. But Susie’s mood was upbeat and she laughed at herself, much to Megan’s relief. A few days later, the women donned their running outfits for the first time. Susie didn’t make it far, a few blocks, before wheezing to a walk. But over the next several months, she would lose the weight and would again be toned enough to go further. Megan joined her and soon the two would find a hobby that would strengthen their friendship and their bodies.
Along with the running, the two developed a deep faith in God and their mutual faith would strengthen them.
CHAPTER 6
March, 2007
Susie Templeton couldn’t wait to share this kind of good news to her best friend. What was a gamble twenty-two months earlier had turned into a win better than almost any casino. It was tantamount to winning the lottery.
She had just returned from having lunch with another investment counselor. While she was out, her cell phone buzzed with news that had huge financial implications for Susie and Megan. Each of them had invested $5,000 in a small but innovative restaurant chain. The concept had exploded in popularity, and a corporation desperate to revive its stodgy image decided to pay off the original investors in exchange for their portion of ownership – at one hundred times their original investment. Susie and Megan each stood to net a half million dollars.
Kicking off her stilettos, Susie leaned back in her chair. This would be a great day, as Susie had garnered eight other investors besides her and Megan. Since the other investors were wealthy, they stood to gain a large amount in exchange for an infinitesimal portion of their wealth. The news would solidify Susie’s growing reputation as one of the best investment counselors in the city.
Before she called Megan, though, Susie had to say a prayer of thanks first. The timing of the original investment – just weeks after her decision to accept God and to leave alcohol behind as a crutch – couldn’t be ignored. Instead of living with modest savings and mostly paycheck-to-paycheck, Megan and Susie would be assured modest financial security. Even though it seemed like a reward, Susie had to remind herself that it was really grace. It was time to call her friend, so she picked up her desk phone and pressed Megan’s speed dial number.
Susie’s call to Megan went to voice mail, and the investment counselor sighed. Darn, she thought, no telling when she’ll call me back.
Two minutes later, her cell phone rang. Looking at the caller ID, Susie gladly saw that it was Megan.
“What’s up, Doc?” Susie called her “Doc” when she was in a particularly silly or giddy mood.
On the other end of the phone, Megan heartily laughed at her friend.
“Thanks, I needed that. It’s been a bum of a morning. I’ve run up and down the stairs between the garage and my office at least four times.”
“Wow. Well, this ought to change your day a little bit.”
“Someone gave you five pounds of chocolate and you wanna share it with me.”
“This puts five pounds of chocolate to shame, lady. You know that $5,000 you gave me a couple of years ago?”
“Yes, a bunch of my hard-earned savings.”
“Well get ready to get it back, plus a whole bunch more. Enough to buy you that townhouse you’ve been eyeing forever.”
“What? No.” Megan couldn’t believe it. No, no way, she told herself. Susie’s just kidding me.
“Yeah, about a cool half million, that is. Translates to around four hundred after tax.”
“You’re kidding. That’s impossible. Four hundred thousand after tax?”
“Yep.”
It was too much to believe for the psychiatrist. There was a townhouse development in a new “infill” area not far from the hospital. The units were just now being completed, but Megan had looked at the model three months previous and loved it. She had chided herself for looking at them, because even with low interest for first-time home buyers, they were realistically out of reach for her budget.
“I still can’t believe this is real.”
Susie went on to explain the corporate buyout, and that Megan would see the money within sixty days.
Susie concluded with, “That’s it. I hope you enjoy your townhouse. I’d put half down on it, then get another car to replace that piece of junk that you keep fixing.”
Megan retorted, “That’s not the way to talk about Cory Corolla.”
“I’m just going by how much money you’ve spent on him the past year. I mean, your parents gave you that car when you were in high school. That doesn’t mean that it has to last a lifetime. This isn’t Cuba, for goodness sake!”
“You’re right. It’s time that I get a vehicle befitting a doctor.”
“Megan, I know that you’re thrifty, and goodness knows we both had to do it when we were poor college kids. But we’re both professionals now. And you came out with virtually no student loans thanks to your scholarships. You need to enjoy your status now. You worked hard for it.”
“You’re right. And yes, I’ll look at the townhouse again tonight. I should be able to write them a check for a deposit.”
Megan checked her watch out of habit, and realizing that she had a patient waiting, exclaimed, “Darn. I gotta go. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
In a serious tone, Susie answered her, “Thank you for saving my life when I buried it in a bottle, lady. And for running the marathon with me. I’ll never forget it.”
“You’re welcome. Bye, my BFF”, Megan said quietly.
Two months later, she made a long-delayed trip to the car dealership and bought a brand-new BMW X3. It turned out to be perfect timing, as Cory Corolla refused to start for the dealer employees as Megan drove out of the dealer’s driveway in her new SUV.
Then just ten days after that, Megan closed on her brand-new three-bedroom townhouse. It was larger than she really wanted, but for some reason, it seemed right to have the extra space. Being the first owner, Megan had been able to pick her floor coverings and paint. By offering half down, the payment and interest rate on the townhouse was well within her budget and less than the rent in a far smaller apartment.
CHAPTER 7
November 4, 2007 – New York City – site of the 2007 New York City Marathon
The day dawned a cool 45 degrees in the Big Apple. Megan and Susie had arrived two days earlier after months of training for this day. Just a year earlier, they discussed running the ultimate race for an amateur – a marathon. Now, here they were, standing in the starting area with over 12,000 other women on a bright clear Sunday morning. The pair had prayed for no rain, little wind, and a cool day. Their wish came true on two out of three, the wind being the only exception. But with race temperatures warming into the fifties, a little wind to help cool them would be welcome.
They had spent several previous days “carb loading” on a heavy carbohydrates diet, as well as drinking as much water as they could stand. Before beginning the race, they loaded up once again, but were careful to avoid overdoing it. So the two were as ready as they could be.
Megan had donned corrective goggles with a tight head strap instead of her normal round glasses. Just above the goggles, she had tied a bright orange headband around her head. Behind that, the psychiatrist had loosely tied her shoulder length hair to keep it straight. Both women sported matching race outfits of dark blue. Each of them wore a sponsor vest that promoted a local charity.
As the starting time neared, Megan and Susie smiled nervously at each other and talked quietly, each pacing around the other in anticipation. Susie could tell that something else was on Megan’s mind, though, but now wasn’t the time to address it, she decided.
Finally, it was time to line up, and the crack of a starting pistol marked the beginning of the race.
“Not too fast”, Megan kept telling herself. Even though the women had practiced this run several times in the past few months, the course back home was fairly level, more so than the route through all of New York’s boroughs.
The race started with an uphill climb for the first mile through Brooklyn, then settled down to a fairly level trek to the northeast. After levelling off, Megan let Susie sprint several yards ahead of her, but after a bit shouted, “Hey short stuff, what’s your hurry?”
Animatedly, Susie slowed down enough to let Megan catch up. After a few miles, the immense starting crowd had begun to scatter, making it easier for Megan and Susie to run almost side-by-side as they had through their training. In spite of Megan being taller, her leg length was almost identical to Susie’s, so their stride was almost identical.
The pair reached the Queensboro bridge halfway point in relatively good shape. Ever the type “A” person, Susie was concerned that they were too slow, but Megan reminded her of all the pre-race material that they studied that suggested otherwise. Fortunately, the two women had watched their hydration and nutrition and had taken advantage of water and bars given out along the route.
As expected, the crowds greatly increased after the pair came off the bridge into Manhattan. Megan and Susie began to pay more and more attention to their bodies as they tired. At mile 20, the course began to climb back uphill. Entering Central Park, their eyes took in the beauty of it, but their minds were oblivious to anything but the miles ahead of them. Just after mile 24, Susie began having light cramps in her legs. “Walk it off, walk it off”, Megan shouted at her. She slowed her own pace to a crawl to allow her friend to catch up. Within seconds, the cramps subsided and the women continued on.
Just a half mile from the finish line, an exhausted Megan slowed to a walk, telling her best friend, “I can’t do it, I can’t do it. Too tired. Too sore.” Susie retorted back, “Megan Ann Phillips, you’re going to finish this race if I have to pick you up and carry you. Now come on.” The investment counselor took her half-empty water bottle and splashed it in Megan’s face which the latter wasn’t expecting. This drew a surprised gasp from Megan, and slowly, she started running again.
The pair crossed the finish line in four hours, forty-five minutes, about average for the women running the marathon. For several minutes afterward, they walked around slowly, taking gulps of water and rehydrating drinks and snacking on bars that the organizers were passing out to race finishers.
Susie and Megan looked at each other, but didn’t say a word until Megan finally broke the ice.
“We did it.” Megan was almost nonchalant about it, but her friend could tell that she had something on her mind besides finishing the race.
“Yeah, we did!” Ignoring Megan’s mood for the moment, Susie decided to be enthusiastic even as she was wondering what her friend was thinking.
Susie continued. “Y’know, two and a half years ago, I was a fat, out of shape drunk who didn’t care about anything other than where her next drink was coming from. And look where we are now!”
But Megan was looking across the finish area at a family where the mother had run the race, and the father had brought their toddler and young school age children to greet her at the finish line. It pulled mightily at her, representing more of what she wanted than the race that they had finished.
As Susie looked over toward the family, she looked back at Megan staring at them with tears in her eyes.
“Megan, what’s wrong?” Susie was genuinely alarmed by this time, wondering if Megan had gotten too dehydrated and was suffering a delusion or maybe something more serious. Going over to her, she hugged her tightly while Megan continued to be silent, tears ebbing but emitting occasional momentary sobs.
Finally, the two made their way over to an area where chairs had been set up to allow race participants to rest.
Susie broke the ice again, almost chiding her friend. “Would you please tell me what’s going on. I’m really worried about you.”
Megan looked down at first, but slowly raised her head and looked in her friend’s eyes. “Susie, I looked at that family and I realized that I want that more than any other thing in the world. I want a child. I want a husband. I want to be that Mom that holds her kids, gets onto them when they do something wrong. I want to hear, ‘Hi, Mom’ when they come home from school. And I want a husband to hold me, to tell me what a good day or bad day he’s had, to get onto him when he puts his feet on the furniture.”
Pausing a second, she continued. “I’m not ungrateful for what God’s done. I mean, I was kicked out and disowned, and now I’m a doctor. I’ve helped to save people who would have otherwise taken their own life. I have a wonderful best friend who I just shared the thrill of a lifetime with. I’m just incomplete.”
Lovingly, Susie stroked the side of Megan’s face. “When you saw that family, you thought about Matt again and how he would have brought your kids down here to see Mommy finish the race. You were the woman when you saw that family.”
Megan shook her head up and down without saying a word for several seconds. “Yeah, I still miss him. And selfishly, I still want a child. I want to be called ‘Mom’, even if I can’t have a husband.”
“And why do you think that you won’t have those someday?”
“I pray about it every night, and has it happened? No.”
“Megan, you have to trust God. He knows what He’s doing. His timing is perfect.”
“But it doesn’t seem like it.”
“Remember where I was? A drunk with a hangover sitting in front of the TV since there weren’t any liquor stores open in the middle of the night. Could He have reached me before then? Would He have reached me if my best friend hadn’t told me that she was ready to end our friendship? No and no. Everything had to line up.”
Megan sighed audibly. Her exhausted body was sucking what little energy that she had away from her brain.
“OK. I’ll try to remember that. Maybe it isn’t time yet.”
Susie hugged Megan. “It will work out. Trust me. Now, let’s go get something to eat.” Holding up her medal for finishing, she added, “I want to celebrate this medal that we earned for finishing!”
Megan finally smiled back at her friend. Susie’s right, she decided. Everything is going to work out – someday. I just have to be patient, she told herself.
“I’m starving. But didn’t they say to watch it for a while?”
“There’s a great pizza place back by the hotel. Did you smell it last night? And what will it hurt if we take it back to the room and eat it as we feel like it?”
“Good plan, Miss Templeton. Now where were those shuttle buses?”
CHAPTER 8 – Just over six months later
A Friday evening in April, 2008, in the same city where Megan and Susie lived
Everyone who ever met Kyle (pronounced “Ky-lee”) Britton knew that she was a girl. The only people who didn’t seem aware of this fact were her father Jerry and the Office of Vital Records that maintained Kyle’s birth certificate. The “fix” that Peter Nicosa made on Kyle didn’t change how she felt (like a girl) or her physical appearance. The five feet, six inch Kyle looked a few years younger than her actual age of fifteen. Even so, her long fingers, delicate features, and girlish voice all added up to “girl”. Other than some issues when she was an infant, Kyle grew up much as any other child, except that her puberty had not yet started.
Earlier in her life, having no breasts and no shape didn’t bother Kyle. Now that she was fifteen, it had started to become an issue to her. There were times that she looked in the mirror after taking a shower and saying “When am I gonna get boobs and a butt?” Even the “breast buds” that very young girls develop weren’t there. The appendage left by Dr. Nicosa was also a reminder that she wasn’t a “regular girl”.
Kyle’s lack of development merely fueled her father’s insistence that the teen was a boy and abusing her if she didn’t comply. As a result, Jerry insisted that Kyle dress like a boy much of the time, which humiliated her since she felt otherwise. Lately, though, with her mother’s help, she began to “push the envelope” by purchasing androgynous items that were worn by both genders, like skinny jeans and brightly colored shirts. Brenda supplemented these with actual girls’ clothing which Kyle wore clandestinely when her father was not around.
Fortunately, Kyle did not allow the “rules” to affect her self-image. Her schoolmates merely looked at her as a “tomboy” who never dressed like a girl, but didn’t tease her over her clothing choices. As a result, Kyle had many friends and that kept her outlook positive. Her schoolwork didn’t suffer, either, as she was one of the top students in her class.
This particular afternoon, Kyle was at the home of her “BFF”, Jessica White. Kyle and Jessica met in the first grade and gradually developed a relationship that more closely resembled sisterhood than friends. Earlier in the day, the two girls learned that they were to have a test in their History class the following Monday. For both, this called for serious study as History was not a strong suit for either. As soon as school was dismissed, Jessica and Kyle headed for Jessica’s house and her plush upstairs bedroom. Even though the two girls lived only a few blocks apart, there was a world of difference in their homes. Jessica’s home was over three thousand square feet, with a brick exterior and luxury furnishings inside. Kyle’s house, on the other hand, was an older frame home that was much smaller and more middle-to-lower class. Given that Jessica’s parents both had demanding jobs and worked overtime virtually every day, the house would be quiet where the girls could study.
As an outlet for her repressed femininity, Kyle took full advantage of Jessica’s extensive cache of feminine clothing every time that she was at Jessica’s house. This was possible as both girls wore the same size in virtually everything including shoes. As soon as the girls arrived at Jessica’s, Kyle found a dress and heels to wear, and she quickly changed. This was part of the routine that the two had developed, as Jessica long ago found out about Kyle’s situation. Kyle could be herself, a talkative, bubbly teenager with a bit of attitude. At home, she had to be quiet and could show nothing but a semblance of a male personality while her father was around.
At last, though, the sun’s light began to wane and Kyle knew she better get home. Jessica and Kyle were weary from the school day and from studying, in any case. After changing back to her “boy clothes”, the two girls hugged each other and said their good-byes. Jessica and Kyle promised to get together again the following day, when Jessica’s Mom had planned to take them to a nearby mall.
“I hope Dad isn’t home yet”, Kyle admitted.
“Maybe he stayed around the bar longer than usual. It is Friday night.”
“Yeah, but he didn’t get paid today. That’s next Friday. So he won’t stay too long.”
“I’m sorry.” Jessica was genuinely sorry for Kyle, for Jessica had heard about Kyle being beaten due to Jerry’s alcoholism and his shame about the “boy” in the family.
“Guess I better go”, Kyle said disappointingly. Jessica followed her friend to the front door of the White house. Kyle bounded quickly down the steps and waved back to her friend as she began the walk back to her house.
The beating that Kyle feared was not merely limited to herself. Her mother Brenda was not immune to Jerry’s wrath, either. He had begun to beat Brenda some years before when she attempted to circumvent his controlling ways. While he charged her with taking care of the family funds, if something didn’t appear right, he punished her for it.
As Kyle neared home, she dreaded another beating, and the reason for the slow stroll home was the result of consideration for how to avoid her father once again. She knew that her Pokemon shirt, skinny jeans, and ankle boots were clothing of which Jerry would not approve.
She had two choices – run past him and try to make it up the stairs to her room before her father, or climb up the fire escape ladder that extended from her second-story bedroom window. However, the teen had locked her bedroom window the night before when she heard noises outside, so the latter option was not possible.
As she neared home, Kyle spotted her Dad’s white Dodge Ram diesel truck in the driveway. It was his pride and joy and neither his wife nor his “son” could dare criticize his choice, even though it was an extravagant purchase for a factory production supervisor. The Britton family didn’t own a boat, trailer, recreational vehicle, or anything that could use the overpowered truck as a tow vehicle. The truck was merely an egotistical purchase meant to stroke Jerry’s ego and supposedly make him the envy of his friends. Every month, Brenda Britton had to carefully watch their funds so that they could make the payments on the vehicle. As a result, it had become a sore spot with Brenda and Kyle as they had to sacrifice at times to pay for their father’s selfishness.
Carefully strolling up the driveway, Kyle spotted her father sitting in his worn recliner buried behind a newspaper that partially obstructed his view. It was time, Kyle decided. Opening the door, she made a run for the stairs, only to be spotted by her father in his peripheral vision.
“Dressed like a goodam fag again, I see. Brenda, when are you gonna quit buyin’ him clothes like that?” he yelled. Kyle was completely upstairs by the time that Jerry managed to drop his paper and begin to make his way up the stairs. There was just enough time for Kyle to go into her room, lock the door, and push her chest of drawers against it as a barricade. If Jerry did manage to break through, Kyle reasoned that she could make it down the fire escape ladder and run back to her friend’s house if necessary.
This particular evening, though, something within her snapped. She remembered not only her own beating from a couple of weeks earlier, but also one particularly loud conflict between her Mom and Dad from just a week earlier. There had been an emergency plumbing repair necessary and Brenda had to raid their savings account for the cost. Jerry had disagreed with her decision, insisting that they could have made it without taking it from their savings. The disagreement ended with Jerry striking Brenda with his hand, leaving a particularly ugly mark across her face. The mark had faded, Kyle noted, but it was a sign as to how violent that Jerry had gotten lately.
Tears began to stream down Kyle’s face. It didn’t matter how much she tried, the relationship with her father was hopeless. Her mother had proven to be equally powerless to resist Jerry’s wrath. When would this end? Could Mom and I make it on our own? Would Dad come after us even after we left? There were hundreds of questions that ran through Kyle’s mind one after another.
For weeks, Kyle had been suffering within herself regarding who she was and whether she was the cause of her parents’ marital issues. Am I really a freak and am I guilty of all this, Kyle wondered. Do they need me around? Wouldn’t Mom and Dad be better off without me? Between the tears, Kyle wanted to do something to alleviate the pain. Ninety-nine percent of the time, she could take this with Jessica’s help. But this time, she didn’t know what was going to happen.
Kyle heard Jerry yell as he went up the stairs toward her room, but then his father’s steps stopped and retreated. She thought that maybe his temper had abated. Nothing could have been further from the truth. However, it didn’t make any difference to Kyle. She knew that she had to do something to try to alleviate all of this yelling and conflict. Ending her life seemed logical at the time. I can’t live with this anymore, she kept telling herself. Instead of calling the police or a suicide line, in her immature mind, the only way to handle the stress was to take her own life.
Through her sobs, she looked across her room, spotting a utility knife that she had used on a craft project earlier in the week. In a headlong lunge, she grabbed it and made a cut near the main veins in her wrist. As the blood began to pour out, she found two towels in her room with which to soak up part of the blood. Like most people who try to commit suicide, though, she regretted it as soon as she made the cut. Kyle would have to seek help, regardless of the results.
With part of her last strength, Kyle moved the chest away from the door and unlocked it. Yelling “Help” to downstairs, her Mom heard it but was unable to act. As the blood continued to pour from her wrist, the teen stepped into the hallway to hear what was happening between Jerry and Brenda. Kyle couldn’t see it, but Jerry had cornered her mother in the kitchen while wielding a piece of galvanized pipe that the plumbers had used in the repairs from a week earlier.
“This is gonna be the last time that you try to influence our son to be a girl. He’s a boy and don’t you forget it!” Jerry’s words rang throughout the house as Kyle retreated from the hallway, helplessly listening upstairs in the doorway to her room.
Jerry began using the pipe to strike Brenda several times, with Brenda screaming and attempting to defend herself the best that she could. But finally, Jerry broke through her attempts, and striking her on the head, knocked her unconscious. Looking at her in shock, not realizing the power with which he performed his foolish act, he decided to run to the bar that he frequented. It was his frequent method of escape after beating his wife or child, then regretting his actions. This evening was no exception. All the while, Kyle was upstairs listening to the beating, trying her best to control her bleeding with an old towel, and trying to cry quietly knowing what was occurring to her mother.
After hearing her Dad’s footsteps depart the kitchen, followed by the sound of the front door slamming, Kyle slowly proceeded downstairs to check on her mother. Seeing her mother unconscious on the kitchen floor combined with her own blood loss was too much and she fainted, the now blood-soaked towel still wrapped around her wrist.
Fortunately, Jerry left the front door unlocked in his haste, and soon as his truck left, their elderly next door neighbor Velma Hodgins ran from her house to check on them. She had called 911 a few minutes earlier when she heard Brenda’s screams.
Velma feared the worst, and the sight before her matched the nightmare that she anticipated. A retired nurse, Velma noted Kyle’s blood loss and located some kitchen towels to attempt to stem the flow of blood the best that she could. Determining that Brenda was unconscious but still breathing, Kyle became her first priority.
Kyle awakened within seconds of Velma’s arrival. The elderly woman was now faced with stemming the blood flow from Kyle’s wrist and trying to calm the teen with her unconscious mother was in plain sight. Grabbing more towels from a cabinet in the kitchen, Velma managed to place a tourniquet on Kyle’s arm, temporarily slowing down the bleeding.
Before she had a chance to check on Brenda, an ambulance and a police car showed up. Brenda had started to awaken but was in some pain from a blow to her head.
Within the next thirty minutes, Kyle’s slashes were patched up by the ambulance personnel while Brenda’s scratches were treated and an examination for a concussion had been completed. It didn’t take long for the police to classify Brenda’s injuries as domestic violence. Both would need to be transported by ambulance to Metro Hospital.
After mother and daughter had been loaded in the ambulance, Velma locked their front door and followed the ambulance to the hospital. She would bring Brenda home later that evening after some x-rays determined that she only suffered severe bruising, not a concussion that would require hospitalization. However, Kyle would need to spend several days there in their Mental Health Unit since her injuries were classified as a suicide attempt.
The same Friday evening, in an upscale condominium complex in the metro area
Megan Anne Phillips, MD relaxed in her Jacuzzi tub, surrounded by several lit cinnamon scented candles, a glass of wine on the tub rim, and her IPad in hand. The 34-year-old psychiatrist had opted for this downtime immediately following a six-mile run with Susie.
Megan was looking through all of the monthly psychiatric journals to which she subscribed, and was interspersing that with reading the latest entertainment tabloids that she read to satisfy her curiosity about the rich and famous.
Carefully sitting the tablet/phone on the rim of the tub, she reached for the wine. She had taken out all-hazards insurance on the IPad, but was warned that no more would be paid for by insurance if she dropped it in water. Three previous IPads had met that fate in her tub during times such as this. After “frying” the third one, she was finally careful.
After a long drink, she again picked up the device and resumed reading an article on the effectiveness of a certain medication on schizoid behaviors. Deep in the article, the phone rang. Looking at the caller ID, it was the Chief of Psychiatry at Metro Mental Health, her boss, Terry Weston. Pressing the button to answer the phone in speaker mode, she calmly spoke.
“Hi, Terry!”
“Megan! How are you doing? Since you’re not breathing heavily, I assume I haven’t caught you running again.”
Megan smiled. Weston was always giving her a hard time regarding her favorite off-duty activity. She was known throughout MMH as a “runner”.
“Caught me in the Jacuzzi with candles, a glass of wine, and my reading.”
“Every woman’s favorite fantasy.”
“No, every woman’s favorite fantasy is to not hear from her boss while she’s in her Jacuzzi. You’re lucky, though – the merlot has softened my mood.”
Terry couldn’t help but smile as well. Megan and her boss always traded barbs good-naturedly because of the mutual respect that they had for each other. Much of their work involved very depressing situations and a sense of humor helped to blunt the inherent sadness.
“I’ll keep it short, I promise. I’d like you to talk to a patient who came in tonight. The records say “male”, but this 15-year-old looks more like a girl than most girls. I only spent a short time with her because they were still trying to patch her up from slashing her wrists, but she kept telling me, “I’m a girl!” I’ll send her file down to you shortly."
“OK, Terry. I’ll talk to her tomorrow. I don’t have much on the schedule, so there’ll be plenty of time.”
“Hopefully, it’ll stay that way for you. The older I get, the worse these weekend stints get.”
Megan laughed. She would miss Weston when he retired in a few years. As well as a good doctor, he was a good administrator without an accompanying ego. Such a combination was rare in her opinion.
“Thank you! Have a good night, now! Bye.”
Phillips was considered to be the best psychiatrist for transgender children in a several state area. Her career was not without controversy, however. Because of her own background as transgender, she didn’t mince words for those in the field who steered their young patients immediately toward transition. Her view of the process was to ascertain that transgender patients merely didn’t feel like or want to be like the other gender, but were genuinely the “real thing” as she termed it. Many slammed her for being too strict a “gatekeeper”, but in her fairly short career, she pointed with pride to the fact that none of the patients that she counseled had “de-transitioned” to their original gender.
Within a couple of minutes, the new patient’s file summary appeared in her secure email box. This was going to be an interesting case, she ascertained. Terry was right – from the picture provided, Megan would have guessed “girl” one hundred percent of the time. However, any case where an attempted suicide by a teen was involved was serious, and had to be handled delicately.
After her bath, Megan read for a bit longer, but with the prospect of an early morning wakeup call from her alarm, she turned out her light a bit after 11:00.
CHAPTER 9
The next morning – Metro Hospital (Mental Health Unit)
Shortly after 7:00 a.m., Megan Phillips made her way from the adjacent employee parking garage to her office on the fifth floor of Metro Hospital’s Mental Health Unit. Megan enjoyed Saturday mornings when she was on the weekend daytime schedule. Incoming traffic to the hospital was light, her schedule was usually light or even nonexistent, and the pace of the hospital was far less intense. Her hospital office, a light and airy space, became a home away from home on most Saturdays.
Today was no exception. Originally, there was only one patient on the schedule besides Kyle Britton, and that person had unfortunately suffered a fatal seizure during the night. Megan would be free to handle only Kyle and anything else that might happen during the daytime hours today. This time of year, “anything else” during the day was rare – it was nighttime when things seemed to happen.
Coming into her office, she turned on a small lamp to supplement the ample light coming in from the window. Sitting down, she bowed her head and said, “Lord, please let me to fulfill Your purpose for my life today. Help me to help my patients. Provide me with the wisdom that I’ll need to accomplish this. Thank you for my life, Lord. Just be with me in everything that I do today. Amen.” Megan began each day with a variation of that prayer. Many times, she would even name her patients and ask for help for difficulties that she or the patient had.
Four years earlier, Megan went through a crisis where, in a downturn, she questioned why that she has chosen Psychiatry as her life’s work. Just after accepting Christ, a particularly brutal suicide occurred. She felt that she could have helped to prevent had she been able to counsel the patient. As part of the funeral, the minister explained God in a way that she never realized or contemplated. A week later, she met with the minister and after two hours, found herself kneeling and praying with him. She would never again question her choice of vocation nor her faith.
Grabbing her IPad and stylus, she headed for the stairway. The isolation unit where Kyle was currently housed was two floors up on the seventh floor, and Megan didn’t miss an opportunity to use the stairs, which she laughingly called “my concrete Stairmaster”. Besides her running, the stairs acted as an at-work stress reliever. Several times, the staff had caught Dr. Phillips running up and down the stairs between the first and seventh floors if a particular case had stressed or stymied her.
From the stairwell, Megan walked quickly to the “nurse’s station” for the isolation unit. Stacy Kerns, one of Megan’s favorite co-workers was covering the desk.
“Good morning, Stacy!”
“Good morning to you, Dr. Phillips! Ooh, I like your outfit!” To Megan, this was a surprise. At five feet nine, even with her half Cherokee heritage and wavy shoulder-blade length almost black hair, she hardly considered herself pretty. In fact, with her round circular glasses, she considered herself rather like a tall “nerd”. This day’s outfit of a fitted long sleeve polo, skinny jeans, and knee-high boots zipped over her jeans did emphasize her feminine looks, though.
The two exchanged small talk for a few minutes, then Megan asked about Kyle Britton.
“I’ve checked on him several times since I came on at midnight. He slept like a baby. I guess the meds really knocked him out. I woke him up about an hour ago, and asked if he was hungry. He was, so I brought him some breakfast. Since then, he’s just been sitting quietly in his room.” (Stacy referred to Kyle with male pronouns since according to all of the medical records, Kyle was male.) Kyle was given strong medication to sleep due to the physical and emotional trauma of the night before.
“Why don’t we bring him to Interview Room 1 and I’ll talk to him. Thanks for keeping an eye on him, Stacy.” Kyle’s story so far - a suicide attempt plus watching your Mom laying unconsciously on the floor – led Megan to think “I hope you’re strong”.
Megan proceeded to the stark Interview room. It was specifically designed to keep patients and staff safe during therapy sessions early in a patient’s stay. All of the walls were padded, the floor had a thick carpet, and there were no furnishings in it that had sharp edges, or could be used as a weapon for self-injury or an attack on others.
Within a few minutes, Kyle was brought in. Megan was almost taken aback by Kyle’s appearance. At five foot six, he looked even more like an androgynous girl than the pictures taken the day before. Even with the lack of curves, Kyle’s hair, facial, and other features screamed girl. The only thing that detracted from her attractiveness was the large bandage on her arm that covered her injury.
“Hi, Kyle. I’m Megan.” Megan had pronounced the name as if it rhymed with Nile.
“It’s Ky-lee. And I thought I was seeing Dr. Phillips.” Kyle was not smiling. Whoa, still mad I see, thought Megan. The voice matched her appearance, too. This is one of the most feminine males that I’ve ever seen, Megan quickly realized.
“Dr. Phillips is too formal for me. I’m not one to set myself on a pedestal, Kyle. (Megan began to pronounce it Ky-lee.) Why don’t you have a seat and we’ll get started.”
“When can I see my Mom?”
“If everything goes OK and we figure out why you cut yourself, you can see her here tomorrow night and go home mid-week. We’re only going to keep you long enough to make sure that you won’t be back here again in a week.”
“OK. I guess that I made a big mistake, huh?” Kyle pointed down at the large bandage wrapping her arm.
“Yeah, you did. But I did, too, when I was your age, too.” Megan rolled up the sleeve of her long-sleeve polo shirt and pointed to the scars left from long ago.
“You tried to kill yourself, too?”
“Yep. I was a girl and my dad didn’t understand. He kept telling me that I was boy and I knew better.”
“You’re trans?”
“Yes, I am. But I think of myself as a just a woman.”
“Just like me.”
“Yes. I had special people to help me after I ended up here, and I’m going to help you. I didn’t ever cut myself again, and I don’t want you to ever do anything else to hurt yourself, either.”
Kyle’s tears began to freely flow, and Megan left her chair to hug her. Since Megan was three inches taller than Kyle, their shoulders met at the same height since Megan’s knees were on the floor. The ice had quickly broken. This was absolutely, positively, not a boy, Megan told herself, even down to the feminine lilt of her voice. This is a girl and the psychiatrist would treat her as one from here on.
They continued to hug for several minutes. When Kyle had calmed down, Megan said, “OK. Let’s start at the very beginning. Tell me everything about your life. Then we’ll move on to everything that happened yesterday. We have a lot of time – we’ll take as long as we need. You want some water?”
Kyle nodded. Megan left the room for a couple of minutes to retrieve a plastic bottle of water. The psychiatrist decided that it was going to be a long morning, so she retrieved two each for herself and Kyle.
Megan returned to a fully composed Kyle, so she decided to plunge in.
“Tell me a little bit about why that you wanted to end your life.”
Kyle sniffed for a second, but quickly recovered. “I just couldn’t live any more. I mean, Dad always thought I was a boy, but everyone at school and even my Mom treated me as a girl. When Mom and Dad started arguing again about me, I just kinda flipped out.”
“What did your Dad do to you? Did he yell at you, or beat you, or what?”
“He yelled at me all the time, then every couple of weeks, he’d come in drunk from the bar and beat me.”
“Did he tell you why he was beating you?
“He kept yelling at me, “I’m gonna make a man out of you sometime”, and “You’re just a goddam fag, that’s what you are, and I’m gonna beat it out of you.”
“Did he hit you with his hand, or a belt, or something else?”
“His belt, his hand, and his fists.”
Megan cringed. If she could corroborate the stories between Kyle and Brenda, she could have child abuse charges added to Jerry’s criminal charges. In any case, this girl had been through a lot of trauma over a long period of time.
“Let’s change things up a bit. Tell me about what happened last night, with all of the details. Don’t leave anything out.”
Kyle told the story of being over at Jessica’s house, going home, and then encountering her dad. Bursting into tears, she also told of pushing her chest against the door, finding the knife and cutting herself. Megan carefully trod over the details, lest she make Kyle replay events over and over again.
Finally, Megan told of pushing the chest out of the way in order to get out of her room, hearing her Dad leave, then finding her Mother unconscious in the kitchen following Jerry’s beating.
The interchange about just this part of Kyle’s story took almost an hour. But Kyle was a one strong girl, Megan concluded. Instead of stopping at this point, the doctor decided that it was worthwhile to go on. She wanted to find out how long that Kyle and her mother had been suffering abuse at Jerry’s hand. She also wanted to find out how Kyle “knew” that she was a girl. The answers that she received on this latter point were intriguing.
“So you always knew that you were a girl.”
“Yeah. I never thought that I was a boy for a second in my whole life.”
“I mean, to be treated as a boy by your Dad, then knowing you’re a girl, that must have been hard.”
“Mom always told me that I was a special girl.”
“So you went to school every day, knowing that you were a girl, but dressed in boys’ clothes?
“Up until the last year or so. Everybody just thought that I was a tomboy or somethin’”.
“Was everyone OK with that? Did anyone tease you?”
“Well, some of the guys teased me, calling me a dyke and butch and things like that. I knew that I wasn’t one of those, so I didn’t let it bother me. Besides, the girls treated me like any other girl. I have lots of friends.”
“You must have wanted desperately to be like your friends, though, to dress in dresses and skirts and other things that would make you more of a girl.”
“Mom bought things like that and hid them in the house. She’s let me wear them in the house after school when we knew Dad wasn’t gonna be around. And my BFF, Jessica, let me wear her clothes when I was over at her house. We’ve spent a lot of time together the last couple of years.”
Kyle went on to explain the relationship between Jessica and herself, and how the White home had become an escape.
Finally, Megan brought up the inevitable.
“You know that your Dad is going to face serious charges for what he did to your Mom. And if your Mom agrees with your stories, he might be facing charges for what he’s done to you.”
Kyle answered almost unemotionally. “I know.”
“Are you going to be able to cope with losing him? I mean, you and your Mom will probably have to move…”
Kyle interrupted, “And my Mom will divorce him.”
Megan thought to herself, you’ve done a lot of thinking about this. What else are you not telling me?
“Are you OK with that?”
“I’m more than ready to have him gone. I HATE him now.” Kyle began to cry and Megan moved closer to hug her tightly.”
“I know, honey.”
After Kyle quit crying, the two talked on for another hour. It was almost 10:00 before they finished their morning session.
Megan told Kyle, “Look, I’ll be back this afternoon and we’ll talk some more. In the meantime, I want to think about how you reacted last night. We’re going to work on some ways so that you won’t get to the point where you want to end your life ever again.”
Kyle admitted, “I just made a mistake. A big one.”
Megan reacted more strongly to that statement than she had all morning. “No, that wasn’t a mistake. Don’t ever, ever, ever think that again. You reacted to something that was happening. You might have reacted wrong, but we can teach you to react differently.” Pausing, she continued, “I’m going to make some notes now and think about what we’ve talked about. Then I’ll be back around 2:00 or 2:30 and we’ll spend some more time together. Just rest and relax if you can. You’ve had a lot happen over the last two days, and we’ve both talked about a lot of things.”
Megan stood and hugged the teen, and then the two held each other for a few seconds.
“Thank you!” Kyle whispered to her.
Megan answered, “I’ll see you quicker than you think!”
The attendant came to take Kyle back to her room, and as they left the area, Megan waved to her. Then she quickly headed to her office. She was in desperate need of a mental recharge and to spend some time compiling her notes.
CHAPTER 10
The Britton home, Saturday morning
As the clock turned to the 9:00 hour, Brenda Britton continued to slumber in hers and Jerry’s bed. Jerry had stayed out all night, too ashamed of his actions to show up. The police were also making regular patrols by their home since a felony assault warrant had been issued against Jerry. In one of Brenda’s more lucid times (before falling asleep again), she wondered if he would ever be back. She wondered what would happen to him once he was caught, jailed, and convicted.
Brenda had already made up her mind. This was it. Later today, she would call a locksmith and have the locks changed. Between now and Monday, she was calling some of her divorced friends for a recommendation regarding a divorce lawyer. And she would file for a protective order for her and Kyle.
For now, though, she just wanted to enjoy her rest. However, it would be short-lived.
A parking lot behind an all-night liquor store in the metro area
After beating Brenda Britton, Jerry Britton needed to forget his latest mistake. He was a weakling – he always knew that – and unfortunately, his wife and child caught the brunt of his vain attempts to disprove the fact.
Now he had to hide out. He had never knocked his wife unconscious before, and Jerry correctly assumed that the cops were going to be after him. It was time to make up his mind. He could run, or he could go back and finish off what he started. He had some friends in Mexico. I could contact them and maybe they’ll put me up for a while, he decided. The .357 that he kept in hidden in the truck would be more than enough to handle the job of getting rid of Brenda.
Jerry could grab the boy and raise him to be a man without interference of school psychologists and his sympathetic mother. Maybe if he realized that there wouldn’t be a Mom to go home to, he might straighten up and quit acting like a damn fag, Jerry surmised. Right now, he just wanted to try to forget the task that was ahead of him.
Visiting his favorite liquor store, he managed to procure more than enough to fuel his need for an all-night “bender” plus some for the trip to Mexico. Finding a parking space in a public area behind the store that was seldom visited by the cops, he settled in to spend the night in his truck. He only wanted to forget everything for one more night.
By the time the sun rose the next morning, the need for a bathroom break interrupted Jerry’s rest and only served to awaken him to a raging headache. After finding an adjacent grassy area that was thick with trees, he relieved himself and considered his next move. After taking several more swigs from the bottle of Jack Daniels that lay in the seat beside him, Jerry formulated his plan. Although more sober than the evening before, he was slightly inebriated and still considered himself impervious to any police action.
Using his pistol, he would take Brenda’s life and dump her body in a remote hunting area where he had year-round access. He would make sure that the body was never found. In a lake close by, he would dump the weapon. By using a pillow to muffle the gun’s noise, the deed could be done with little noise. Fortunately, the Britton home didn’t have a fence on one side, so he could drive through to the back yard, making it easy to load her body. At the same time, he could bind and gag his son in the back seat. There was blackout tinting on both rear seat windows, making it impossible for anyone to see Kyle once the boy was secured back there.
Realizing that he was probably being sought by the police, Jerry carefully drove to the Britton home to avoid the suspicion of any officers. Shortly after 10:00, he arrived there and instead of parking the truck in the driveway, carefully drove it around the side of the house into backyard.
The Britton Home, Saturday morning, 10:05 a.m.
Fumbling with his keys, Jerry made it around to the front door of the house with his weapon carefully hidden, but still being gripped by his hand. With the loud thump of his footsteps on the porch and the noise of the key entering the lock, Brenda heard him. By the time that Jerry made it upstairs to the bedroom, Brenda was sitting up and was fully awake. Sensing that it was Jerry, she became alarmed, but it was too late as the cordless headset for the house landline phone was across the room on her chest of drawers.
Before she could think what to do, Jerry had trudged up the stairs and come into the bedroom. Brenda smiled at him, but she could tell that Jerry was angrier than she had ever seen him.
“Where’s Kyle?” Jerry demanded.
Spotting the gun in his hand, Brenda began shaking. “He’s still in the hospital. He cut himself badly while you were beating me up, and the ambulance people thought that he was trying to commit suicide. So they kept him in the mental hospital.”
“Doesn’t matter anyway. I can get him later. It’s time to end this charade and raise him right. The only way that I can do that is to take care of you.”
As Brenda’s eyes widened, Jerry grabbed his pillow from the bed to use as a makeshift silencer. Then he aimed the gun straight at her, and fired twice. In spite of being inebriated, his aim was amazingly accurate. The bullets struck Brenda in the abdomen and heart, stopping the latter immediately. Fatally wounded, Brenda fell back helplessly onto her pillow.
Jerry ran downstairs, hoping to escape and retrieve Kyle from the hospital. Maybe I can make it to Mexico before they find me, Jerry thought. But his plan was shattered before he even reached the front door.
About thirty seconds before the shots, a police car on patrol had rounded a corner a few houses away from the Britton home. Jerry’s choice of a parking place was unfortunate, for the truck was taller than the privacy fence. The policeman spotted it immediately, and calling for backup, closed in on the home.
The officer quickly drove into the driveway, leaped from his car and ran toward the front door. Hearing the muffled shots from upstairs, he paused. Quietly turning the doorknob, he found it unlocked, and with a single motion, flung the door open.
Directly on the other side of the door was Jerry, gun at his side. Obviously surprised by the door opening, Jerry stopped just inside the house at the bottom of the stairs. Though surprised, Jerry raised his weapon as the officer began to speak.
“Mr. Britton, we know about what you did yesterday. Just lower your weapon and we can talk this over.”
“I’m not doin’ any such thing. I wanted my son, and now he’s away in some mental hospital like a crazy person. All I wanted was him, and now you’re tellin’ me I did somethin’ wrong by beatin’ up my wife yesterday. It was all her fault, anyway, turnin’ my son into a girl or somethin’. No, I’m not givin’ up now.
As the backup officer arrived, Jerry panicked. He knew that he was facing a mandatory life sentence without parole once the officers found Brenda upstairs. Death would be preferable. In a second of clarity, he decided to shoot toward the officer but not directly at him. Jerry was lucid enough to realize that police protocol would mean that the officer would be shooting to kill him. As usual, he was thinking only of himself, not realizing that any fatal shooting can sometimes result in lifelong mental issues for the officer.
Jerry fired over the officer’s left shoulder, and true to his wishes, the officer fired back twice, hitting Jerry in the heart and chest. He bled out quickly. Like Brenda, he stood no chance at living. Fortunately, the officer was shaken, but otherwise OK. Before noon, the Britton home was surrounded by yellow crime scene tape. The persons responsible for cleaning crime scenes had been contacted to take care of the blood stains on the porch and in the bedroom. Both victims had been taken to the Medical Examiner for autopsies.
Kyle didn’t yet know that she was an orphan. The only other relative of Kyle’s, an aunt, was dying of cancer in a Nebraska hospital. The task of telling Kyle about all of this morning’s events was to fall on Megan Phillips.
Seventh floor, Metro Hospital Mental Health Unit, Saturday, 11:00 a.m.
Megan was emotionally tired after her long session with Kyle. After Kyle was taken back to her room, she wanted nothing more than just to stare at the four walls in her office for thirty minutes. Returning there, she plopped down in her chair and removed her glasses. After leaning back and shutting her eyes for a few minutes, she put her glasses back on and began to review her notes.
Kyle turned out to one of the most serious, yet enchanting, persons that she had encountered in her eight years of practice. There was absolutely, positively no doubt that she was a girl, through and through. It was unfortunate that life events forced her hand in such a dramatic way, Megan reflected.
The respite was short-lived. Her cell phone rang, and from the caller identification, Megan recognized that it was Terry Weston.
Answering the phone, she playfully said, “Yeah, whadda ya want?”
Weston was dead serious. “Megan, we have a problem. Have you seen, let’s see, what’s his name”.
“Kyle. It’s a she. I’ve been with her all morning.
“Isn’t she an only child?”
Megan hurriedly opened the chart. “Yeah, no brothers or sisters. Just Mom and Dad and Kyle. Her grandparents are dead and there’s only one aunt listed. Oh, and Kyle mentioned to me that she’s terminal with cancer.” What is this leading to, Megan wondered.
“Well, the three became one this morning. Dad shot Mom, then Dad committed suicide-by-cop.”
Megan’s face suddenly turned white. “My God, what more can happen to her?”
“Looks like we may have her longer than just a few days. But here’s the whole thing, as the police shared with me.” Terry went on to describe the entire chain of events.
“This is gonna be tough, sir.” Megan felt a lump coming up in her throat.
“Vaya con Dios, Megan. Call me if I can do anything for you.”
“Thanks, Terry!”
Megan hung up her phone, then pounded her desk with her fist a couple of times. This was the first time since Matt’s death that she was directly affected by a death by firearm. Her own grief was doubled with the knowledge that she would have to help a patient to get through it, as well.
Kyle was now going to be in the same situation as Megan herself had experienced after one semester of college. She would be completely alone in the world, albeit at a younger age. Megan was fortunate to have had encountered Susie immediately after her parents’ rejection. Kyle would need help from her friends, as well as psychiatric care, for her grief. Because of the situation, Megan began to feel a bond with Kyle. There were huge differences in their upbringing, but somehow in some undefined fashion, they were very much alike.
Even though there weren’t any newspapers or television allowed in the unit where Kyle was currently housed, even loose talk by the staff about such a dramatic news event might leak to Kyle. Therefore, it was essential that she be told as soon as possible.
Megan needed to pray. How the next few hours were handled would determine Kyle’s direction in her young life. Handle it badly, and Kyle might be depressed and withdrawn for the rest of her life. Handle it well, and she could become a well-adjusted person able to handle her transition with ease.
She bowed her head and opened her heart. She told God how much she wanted to help Kyle through this tragedy. Admitting that she didn’t have the words in her head, she asked for help to form the right words in the right way. Finally, Megan prayed directly for Kyle, that she could weather the storm and become the best person that she could be.
The prayer helped to calm Megan. Megan opened Kyle’s file on the computer and began to make notes. There would need to be a plan in place before a young person could be given such news. It needed to be done as quickly as possible, as even loose talk by the staff about such a dramatic news event might leak to Kyle.
In this case, Megan decided, Kyle needed to be told in a straight, no-nonsense fashion, but with a lot of love and support. The teen would need to know deep in her heart that she wasn’t abandoned. It would be essential that any temporary foster home (after her visit at the Mental Health Unit was over) be a loving environment.
It would be lunchtime before Megan was ready to see Kyle. She elected to chew on a protein bar before leaving her office, fearing that an upset stomach in the middle of dealing with her patient. Then after another prayer, it was time to face the maelstrom.
CHAPTER 11
Seventh floor, Metro Hospital Mental Health Unit, Saturday 1:00 p.m.
Kyle’s restrictions had been loosened somewhat as a result of the morning, so when Megan arrived, she found her on a couch in the unit’s common area calmly reading a well-worn magazine.
Megan greeted her with a smile, even though underneath she was shaking.
“Hi, Kyle, how are you?”
“I’m OK. Just a little tired after this morning.”
“Why don’t we go to an office? There’s one with a window right over here”, pointing to an office with an exterior window located less than thirty feet away. Unlike the place where the two had met earlier in the day, this one was painted in a subdued blue color, but was still devoid of pictures or other decoration. There was a large couch there, along with two other straight back chairs. That’s all we need, Megan reflected. That, and a door for privacy. In case that Kyle reacted loudly, Megan wanted to have a place where Kyle could vent without disturbing everyone.
Kyle strode in first, followed closely by Megan, who shut the door behind them. Silently praying, Megan sat down next to Kyle on the couch facing her but staying very close. Taking Kyle’s hand, she looked straight into the teen’s eyes.
Kyle knew that something had happened, or was going to happen. Having been the victim of abuse, and witnessing abuse of her mother, she was extraordinarily sensitive to atmosphere. Something’s not adding up, she told herself when Megan sat down next to her rather than across the room. Megan’s demeanor was somber compared to the morning session, as well.
Haltingly, Megan said, “I wish this was simple, Kyle. I have some terrible news for you, and I don’t know any of other way except to tell you without any sugar coating.” Megan took a deep breath and continued. “You know that your Dad left last night after chasing after you and beating up you Mom.”
Kyle gave Megan a quizzical look and nodded her head.
“This morning, your Dad came back home and confronted your Mom with a gun. Your Dad began yelling and then without warning, he shot your Mom. He tried to escape, but the police arrived just as he was walking out of the door. He said a few words to the officer, then pointed the gun toward him and fired. The policeman shot him and he died, as well.” Megan paused a moment to let her words sink in, but Kyle was quicker than she expected, and she silently began to turn white. But the psychiatrist still had to sum up what her patient already knew. “What I’m trying to say is, your Mom and Dad are both dead.”
Kyle sat staring and emotionless for a few more seconds, then burst into tears. Megan let go of her hands so that Kyle could cover her face. Then she spread her arms wide and hugged Kyle tightly. In response, Kyle dropped the hands from her face and hugged Megan back.
For several minutes, the patient and the psychiatrist held each other while Kyle released her pain. Then drawing herself back, Kyle looked into Megan’s eyes and through the tears asked, “What happens to me now? I don’t have a sister or a brother or an aunt or an uncle. And I’m too young to live by myself.”
Megan knew this question was going to arise and was prepared. “Kyle, you can be here for a total of seven days, so until next Friday, you’re right here in the unit. After that, I’m afraid that we’re going to have to work with Social Services to find you a place to go.”
Kyle began to blubber again. “So I have to go live with somebody I don’t know, then maybe have to move from there to somewhere else? Noooo.” Then the young woman shook her head and dissolved into tears, again burying her head onto Megan’s shoulder.
Until now, Megan had been able to hold her own tears, except for a few drops that rolled down her cheeks. But with this latest outburst, Megan couldn’t hold it in any longer, and the two quietly sobbed together, with Megan holding her patient tightly. She knew that it was against policy to interact this strongly with a patient, but it seemed right in this instance. One didn’t leave a teen alone to face such a tragedy, she decided. It reminded Megan of leaving her parents’ house for the last time. After a couple of minutes, the doctor was able to control her own tears and concentrate on her patient.
Megan let Kyle continue to cry for a few more minutes, but when the sobs began to settle down, it was time for Megan to get to work.
Megan pulled herself back from Kyle looked straight at her. “You’re going to be OK. This is a turn in the road, not the end of your life. Think of it like this – all of the fears of your Dad attacking and hurting you, they’re gone now. I know that your Mom won’t be there, but someone else will be there to help you along. Do you remember our conversation this morning?”
Kyle nodded her head weakly. Her tears had finally stopped.
Megan continued. “I came home from college and tried to tell my parents that I was a girl – not a boy. They kicked me out. I had five months of college paid for, a few thousand for gas and expenses, and that was it. I had to start working while going to school. I got scholarships. I made it. You WILL, too. You’re smart and well-spoken. You’re a beautiful young woman. You’re going to be fine.”
Kyle gave Megan a look of sadness. “Do you really believe that?”
Megan took Kyle’s face into her hands, holding the young woman’s cheeks in her palms. “Yes, I do!”
Megan and Kyle sat back from hugging each other. The latter was starting to be back in some semblance of control, so Megan felt like that she could begin to talk to her more logically.
“Kyle, you’re never going to be totally alone. We’re not going to kick you out of here into a stranger’s home without someone to talk to. I’ll be talking to you the rest of the week and if I’m out for some reason, others will here. You’ll never be alone, even in the middle of the night.”
“But I don’t want to leave my school, my friends, and..”
“Jessica. I know”, Megan chimed in. “We’ll do our best to keep everything as stable as we can for you.” What Megan knew and Kyle didn’t, is that teens were often the hardest to place in adoptive homes. People often assumed that only troubled teens were involved, but that was often not the case with Kyle.
“Can we talk in a little bit? I just want to think about stuff.” Kyle began to tear up once again as she realized that her life would never again involve her parents.
Megan leaned back over to Kyle as she had done earlier. Carefully and softly, she took Kyle’s face in her hands and looked at her straight in the eyes. Blinking back tears, she softly said, “Kyle, I’m here for you. You’re a beautiful young woman. I’m not to let anything happen to you. I know that losing your Mom and Dad is huge. But it’s not the end. It’s the beginning – another bend in the road.”
Megan then released her grip and hugged her patient tightly once again. “You’re going to make it just fine. Make sure that you tell me everything that’s going through that pretty head of yours. Even with everything that’s just happened, you don’t deserve to ever be in here again.”
“I’ll try.”
“I’ll let you think about everything that’s happened. Then I’ll be back to talk you some more in just a little bit.”
“OK.”
Megan carefully watched as Kyle returned to a chair facing the walls in the common area. As the young woman slumped down, Megan turned and walked out, satisfied that for at least the time being, she would be all right.
Instead of returning to her office, though, Megan decided to clear her thoughts for a bit. Her pantry at home was emptier than usual, so she decided to get some non-perishables at the local grocery, then return to Metro.
Within an hour, she was finished with her shopping, satisfied that she had accomplished exactly what she needed. Now refreshed, she could approach the next step with Kyle.
Returning to the unit where Kyle was housed, Megan found her in the same chair, obviously still contemplating the events of the day.
“Hi, Kyle.” Megan sat down at a couch that was across from the chair where Kyle was sitting. By this time, another patient had wandered in to the common area. Kyle responded to Megan with a smile which warmed Megan’s heart. This girl is going to be all right after all, the psychiatrist told herself. “Why don’t we go back to that office where we were this morning”, she told the teen. “Sure”, Kyle answered.
The two walked slowly back to the office and Megan once again shut the door. The two exchanged places from their earlier session, with Kyle taking the couch and Megan taking the chair directly across from the teen.
Megan started the conversation with a question. Positive, but not smiling, she asked “Kyle, what would you like talk about? I came back because I knew that you would need someone by now.”
“Poor Mom. She didn’t deserve to die at Dad’s hand. ‘Course, I knew it could happen. I felt like that I was going to get killed sometime.”
“I read the notes from last night when you Mom came in the hospital. You had already been brought upstairs, but from the doctor that she talked to then, she was very concerned about you.”
“Mom’s the only reason that I stayed around. I prob’ly would have run away otherwise. I hated my Dad.”
Kyle began to tear up, then suddenly began yelling. “That son of a bitch! Now he’s taken away the one person who’s always understood me! I’m glad he’s dead!” Kyle broke down into heavy sobs, while quietly whispering, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Megan changed body language from relaxed to forceful as she leaned forward in the chair. Looking straight at Kyle, she replied, “You don’t have a thing to be sorry about. You don’t. Your dad was a mean, controlling, alcoholic freak. I want you to think about it this way, though. You don’t have to deal with him anymore.”
“Why did Mom have to die? She didn’t deserve it.”
“Sometimes bad things happen, things that we don’t anticipate. People get killed in accidents. People have medical issues that cost them their life. We can’t let ourselves get hung up on the ‘why’. We have to keep going. I’m sure that your Mom is saying to you right now, ‘Kyle, keep going. Grow up and be the strong woman that you are.’”
Kyle nodded at this.
The two continued to talk until almost 5:00 p.m. Megan learned almost her entire life story and was amazed at the strength, tenacity, and resourcefulness of the young woman. By the end of their visit, she was totally convinced that this was a young woman who would never again harm herself. In her mind, It was apparent that Kyle acted out a desperate plea for attention in a last ditch effort to influence events.
After one last hug and some encouraging words, Kyle was ready to go to a different room than the one she had occupied the night before. Megan was ready to go, as well, and her mind was thinking of a long run in Maxwell Park with Susie Templeton.
Maxwell Park, Saturday evening, 6:00 p.m.
“Hey, over here!” Susie Templeton yelled as she saw Megan’s gray BMW X3 enter the parking lot on the edge of Maxwell Park. The successful “investment counselor”, as she liked to call herself, had anxiously awaited Megan’s arrival so they could finish their run prior to sunset.
Megan found a parking space only three spaces over from Susie’s Infiniti sedan. She quickly pulled in, slipped her cell phone and keys into a pocket in the running outfit, and burst forth from the vehicle as if being pursued.
But this was no chase. The two simultaneously yelled “Hey” at each other, and exchanged a friendly hug before starting their stretches in the parking lot. Typical for the pair, they exchanged conversation before beginning their run. It was more than a jog for the pair, for both had completed several marathons over the previous few years.
“How was your day? I hate it that you have to work weekends every so often”, Susie asked as she stretched a bright orange headband across her forehead.
“I’m exhausted. Had a patient who ended up taking all day.” While Susie was putting on her headband, Megan was tying her hair back into a ponytail so that it would stay out of her face and be cooler. “At least it’s nice outside, today.”
“Beats snow and cold!”
“Yeah!”
“You sure you’re ready, Miss Bad-day-at-the-office?”
“You betcha. Pent up emotions. Need to run to get rid of them.”
“Let’s go then!”
Less than an hour later, the two women finished six miles and the end of their “long course” around the park and along some of the surrounding city streets. Susie invited Megan over to her condo for dinner, and her best friend readily agreed.
During the evening, Megan talked in broad generalities about Kyle, skirting any possible violations of patient privacy. Almost immediately, though, Susie connected Kyle with local news coverage of the crime and quickly understood Megan’s involvement and concerns.
But it was clear that the psychiatrist had more than just a passing interest in her patient. The two were sitting across from each other, Susie parked on a large leather couch, and Megan sprawled across a matching armchair, her legs across one arm and her back against the other.
“Meg, why are you so entranced with this girl?”
“She reminds me of myself after Mom and Dad kicked me out. She doesn’t have anyone. I mean, you were around to help me, and if it hadn’t been for you, I don’t know what would have happened.”
“So you’re identifying with her plight.”
“You could say that.”
“Do you want to still be a mom? I mean, after what happened with Matt?”
After Megan became serious with Matt, she talked at length to Susie about her dreams. Megan found out that Matt loved children, and the young woman began to dream of the idyllic life with a husband, a couple of kids, and a rewarding career. Of course, the couple would have to adopt since Megan lacked the necessary female organs.
Since his death, Megan had a series of unsuccessful relationships, and now the psychiatrist had almost given up on finding a mate. In her mind, Susie wondered if Megan’s dreams had died along with Matt.
Megan returned a half-frown. For a moment, she had a flashback of an old fantasy of happily holding a baby with a smiling Matt beside her. Returning to the conversation, she admitted, “Yes I do. But, I don’t know. Adopting a teen-ager?”
“Children of any age still need a parent.” The businesswoman leaned forward in order to make her point strongly. “And realistically, who’s going to want her? A teen-ager, strike one. A victim of abuse, strike two. And transgender, strike three and 99.9% of potential parents are out.”
Susie had a point. Would I make a suitable parent, Megan asked herself. The idea of having someone that age was attractive. Megan could guide Kyle far more as a parent than she could as a psychiatrist. Kyle was old enough to be independent and possibly even self-sufficient to a degree, but was she a thief or violent? For Susie to bring it up was significant. Megan and Susie had a sense about each other that was apparent even to outsiders.
After a long pause, Susie continued. “Look, we’ll both pray about it, and if God wants you to have her, then He’ll open the doors. It always works that way.”
Megan smiled back at her best friend, knowing that she was right. Suddenly, she sensed how late it was and looking at her watch exclaimed, “Dang it, I need to get home! I’m still on duty tomorrow, and then there’s church.”
“I know girl. I’ll see tomorrow morning.”
“Thanks for dinner and for everything!”
Megan quickly made her way downstairs to the BMW and was soon home to a quiet soak in the Jacuzzi. This time, though, she left her tablet behind, closed her eyes and just soaked. The day with Kyle had taken more energy and spirit out of her than she first realized. Instead of relaxing with a good book, she found herself wanting to sleep after she lit from the tub.
But sleep would evade her. She prayed over and over again, trying to release Kyle’s issues, as well as her own, to God. But nothing that she said seemed to relieve her angst.
Over and over, she remembered looking into Kyle’s eyes and seeing the look of sadness and helplessness in the teen. It tugged at Megan like no other patient had ever done before. Most of the time, her patients affected her little and she left their issues “behind at the office”.
Finally, she gave up, praying “God, what do you want me to do about Kyle?” Almost instantly, a voice came to her saying, “I want you to take her in and be her Mom.”
“What?” Her own thoughts overrode her spiritual feelings. This is a teenager, she thought. I can’t be a Mom, I’m not old enough or mature enough. I’ve established a single life, and someone like Kyle needs both a Dad and a Mom. Kyle needs someone who’s around more – I’m a doctor who works too much. I need to keep her as a patient. But the more arguments that she made, the more she was reminded of Moses arguing with God before he led the Israelites out of Egypt.
Megan had a comfortable life, with adequate income and a more-than-adequate home. She had a spare bedroom that wasn’t used except for visitors – and she hadn’t had one visitor in the two years that she had owned the townhouse. She could move Kyle in there and put a small bed in the third bedroom (her office) for real visitors.
The psychiatrist was reminded of the time when she purchased the townhouse. Only three-bedroom units were available instead of the two-bedroom that she really wanted. She remembered the grumbling that she made to herself, thinking that she’d never use the extra space. Had God anticipated this turn of events, Megan asked herself.
She would have to check into adoption on Monday morning, she decided. But if God worked out circumstances as He had done on previous occasions, this would be easy.
Could the two meeting in the way that they did mean that they were destined to experience some of life together? Megan pondered the question, but the answers were far from certain.
Megan finally dropped off to sleep, and one of her last thoughts was that unless she had a patient emergency to arise overnight, she would be able to go to church on Sunday morning. Sleeping soundly, she didn’t awaken until time to get ready the next morning.
CHAPTER 12
Sunday morning and afternoon
The early morning dawned sunny and cool for an April morning, but not cold. As was the case with most Sunday mornings, Susie and Megan met each other at Trinity Church, just a mile and a half from Megan’s townhouse. Sometimes if Megan wasn’t on duty, the two rode together, but since the doctor had to leave for the hospital immediately after church, they had come in separate vehicles.
At the door, the two were greeted warmly by a teenager and his mother. “Hey David, hey Sally”, Susie remarked as the two entered the door. Inside, others greeted them before they had a seat.
The two women looked different as daylight and dark, as Megan was wearing a dress, a sweater, and knee-high boots. Susie, on the other hand, came casual in jeans, a pullover sweater, and athletic shoes. The rest of the congregation was dressed in the wide expanse between athletic wear and formal dress. No one minded, though, as they were all there to worship, not to judge each other’s wardrobe choices.
Wandering down a hallway, they came to a plainly decorated room with about thirty chairs. Susie and Megan had elected to take a class on the writings of John, so they were there an hour ahead of the time for worship service.
The class had 26 attendees varying in age from 17 to 83. The two friends were in the youngest quartile age-wise, but no one seemed to pay attention. After everyone had arrived, the teacher began it with a prayer, then asked for prayer requests. Holding up her hand, Megan told the rest of the class about the opportunity to adopt a teen-ager, without going into any specifics to protect Kyle’s privacy. She just made reference to the fact that the teen was an orphan who was sensitive and scared to go into the social services system as a potential foster child.
Everyone in the class was supportive of Megan and as a group, the class prayed a separate prayer for her. Then other prayer requests were handled and the group prayed for them.
Megan had not always been accepted this well at Trinity. Two years earlier, Megan and Susie left their original church, Calvary Hill, when an internet search by one the congregants revealed Megan’s “secret”. This resulted in a modern-day shunning of the physician by many within the church. Even after a conversation with the minister, nothing improved. The pair, tiring quickly of the judgmental attitude, left quietly and didn’t come back. They tried Trinity, and it proved to be a haven where both felt comfortable.
But that feeling was to be short-lived. After several months, the same thing began to happen again following a magazine article on Megan and her work at Metro. This time, she decided to fight. After finding out that the minister was supportive of her, she asked for time to address the congregation before worship service one day. The request was granted, and before the minister began his sermon, he announced that Megan wanted to speak to them. The room was full of quiet murmuring as she began.
“I know that this is a little unexpected, to have me up here instead of Pastor Jim. I just needed to say a few words to clear up some misconceptions about me and why I’m here. Just to set things straight, I am a transgender woman who has accepted Christ as my Savior. But what I am isn’t nearly as important as how I got to this point.”
“From the time I was born, I genuinely and completely believed that I was a girl. For a while, my parents went along me and allowed me to have stuffed animals, dolls, and even some girl clothes in my room. But as I grew up, the pressure by my Dad to ‘man up’ grew and grew.” Megan rolled her sleeves and pointed to the scars on her arms. “Like a lot of teens, I began to make small slits in my arms with a craft knife that I kept in my room. They rarely bled heavily, but over time, my cutting began to show. I had to wear long sleeves to hide them. But not long after I turned fifteen, I gave up. I didn’t want to live anymore.”
The psychiatrist definitely had her audience’s attention. The sanctuary was ghostly quiet. With a few tears forming in the corner of her eyes, she continued.
“Late one evening, I went into my bathroom and I made a longer deep cut that I hoped would let me bleed out quietly. After hitting a pretty big vein, though, I realized that I had made a big mistake. I grabbed some towels but I couldn’t stem the tide. Right then, my Dad came in my room to talk to me and he found me screaming and crying in the bathroom.”
“You can guess what happened. I was sent to Metro Mental Health Hospital for two weeks. Even after that, though, my Dad refused to believe the findings of several psychiatrists and kept trying to make me a boy. So I survived the best that I could until college, then I began to correct the mistake that I felt God had made. Once my parents found out what I had done, they disowned me and never talked to me again.”
“Years went by. I finished college and had the surgery to finish what the hormones started. I was comfortable, or so I thought. During my residency in medical school, I fell in love with a man who accepted me. We were planning to marry until a man with a gun entered the hospital and shot him in the lobby.”
“It took me a long time to get over that. Life intervened once again when my best friend became an alcoholic. But then late one night, after an in-home bender, she found Christ as the result of a late night TV program. Susie called me, completely sober for the first time in months, and asked me to go to church with her. I initially resisted, because churchgoers are usually judgmental about transgender people like me.”
“But I came on anyway, and several hours after Susie accepted Christ in her living room, I accepted Him at a church altar. So much pain went away that night. It took several months for me to forgive my parents for what they did to me, but I was able to. I was able to forgive the gunman who took away the love of my life.”
Megan paused, because she knew what she was going to say next would be most critical part of her presentation.
“Most of all, Christ accepted me for the way that I am. But knowing this didn’t come easy. For months and months, I prayed and prayed, asking God if I made a mistake in changing my body to match my mind. I knew that some Christians would condemn me. Finally, though, one day as I was reading my Bible, the words of Paul popped out from Second Corinthians. ‘Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away, behold, the new has come.’ God didn’t want me to go backward, he wanted me to go forward, to act like a new creation.”
“It was a few weeks later that a mission trip was being assembled. As it turns out, my MD degree was needed. I went along, and cried over and over as I saw God using my skills for His good.”
“Every day, I make a journey to follow Him, to seek His will, and ask His forgiveness for the sins that I’ve committed. I’m asking that you allow me to make this journey with you. I think that’s what Christ would have wanted. There’s a lot of love here. My best friend and I sense that every time that we’re here. And by the way, that best friend that helped lead me to the Lord is right down front here.” Megan pointed to Susie. “Well, I’ve spoken enough. Thank you for your time, and may God Bless you.”
Her speech had taken place almost a year earlier. Since that time, any opposition to her attendance and participation vanished. Megan’s presence only garnered smiles and she was warmly welcomed (as was Susie) into every activity. She had helped to feed homeless people, gone on a mission trip to an Indian reservation in New Mexico, and acted as a chaperone for youth activities.
The class went well, as did the worship service that followed. After the worship service concluded, Susie and Megan kept their seats and Susie prayed for Megan. The two women hugged, and the two said good-bye. Megan quickly walked to her SUV, and after a quick stop at Wendy’s for a salad, headed toward Metro. It was time to check on Kyle.
She decided to hold off telling her patient that she was at least interested in working toward adoption. There were too many hurdles to clear and she didn’t want to raise Kyle’s hopes in case that any objections were raised to such an arrangement.
The teen was in the same common area that Megan found her the previous afternoon. Unfortunately, though, her body language was less upbeat and instead of reading, she was staring at the wall.
Megan entered the common area and walked over to Kyle.
“What’s going on?”
“Hi, Megan!” Well, that’s good, the psychiatrist reflected Spotting Megan in her peripheral vision, Kyle nevertheless kept looking straight ahead, “Nuthin’ much. Just thinking.”
“What about?”
“The future. What life will be like after I get outta here.”
Finally, Kyle turned her head and looked at Megan. By this time, Megan had sat down next to Kyle in one of the chairs. Kyle’s eyes widened. “Wow, that’s pretty. I love the boots and the dress.”
Megan smiled. “Thank you, Kyle! Oh, and look at you – they traded out that massive bandage. See – healing does happen!”
Kyle smiled back. “Yeah, they came and changed it out last night. At least now it doesn’t look like I broke my arm or something.” Looking at Megan up and down again, she continued, “I can’t get over that dress and boots – it’s so pretty. I always wanted to go to school dressed like that, but I couldn’t wear a dress outside my room. I had to be a guy for Dad.”
“I don’t think that you want to dress like this. It’s a little old for you! But I know that you mean. You just want to feel like the girl that you are inside.”
“Yeah, exactly!”
“Well I don’t think that you have anything to worry about. I’m going to recommend that you dress as female from this point forward. I see no reason for you to pretend being male any longer. I’m also going to recommend that you start hormones as soon as we can get an appointment with an endocrinologist.”
The girl could scarcely believe what she was hearing. This was the beginning of an entirely new life with no rules carried over from the previous one.
Megan continued, “One more thing. I’ll need the names and phone numbers of your friends. I think that it’s time for you to have some company, rather than just sitting in here.” I also want to speed up your healing from the trauma, and that’s one of the few things that I can do, Megan thought.
“Yay! OK, where can I write it down? I can’t WAIT!”
So the conversation started once again and lasted well into the afternoon. Kyle opened up completely, and Megan found out more and more about the young woman. The psychiatrist kept looking for excuses not to adopt Kyle, but found absolutely nothing. In fact, she decided, we could make a good fit together. But there was absolutely no way that Megan was going to bring up anything regarding her life after Metro until after she found out about the possibility of adoption.
Late in the afternoon, Megan headed back to her office with the list of Kyle’s friends. It was time to make some phone calls.
Putting on her best professional demeanor, Megan called the first name on the list.
The phone was answered by a female voice. “Hello?”
“Hello, this is Dr. Megan Phillips at Metro Hospital. Is this Jessica White’s mom?”
“Yes, it is, I’m Carly White.” Megan could detect tension in her voice.
“Ms. White, I’m calling about one of my patients, Kyle Britton.”
“Oh, of course. Kyle and my daughter have been best friends for years. Oh, my God, isn’t it terrible about what happened this weekend? Is that the reason she’s there?”
“She is here under our care. I’m afraid that’s all I can say at this point. But I’ve really called to ask a favor.”
“Sure, anything.”
“Kyle really needs to have some visitors. I was hoping that you could bring your daughter Jessica here to visit with Kyle.”
“Why, of course. Jessica will be thrilled to see her. She’s been so worried. Jessie and Kyle were supposed to go shopping together yesterday morning until.” Carly paused, not knowing what to say.
“I understand.” Megan thought back to the times that she and Susie leaned on each other. “Is there any way that you can bring her over tonight or tomorrow night?”
“It would be a lot easier for me to bring her there tonight. Would an hour be too soon?”
Even though Megan was tired, having a visitor for Kyle was a top priority. She wanted to monitor the visit, as well, and securing a connection to the camera and microphone in the rooms where visitors were allowed would be easy.
“That would be perfect. We’re in the Metro Hospital complex, in the Mental Health Tower. Just bring her to the reception desk on the seventh floor. I’ll meet you there.”
“Thank you! We’ll be there.” Carly smiled, for Jessica would be thrilled to see her BFF again.
Megan made two other calls to the parents of Kyle’s friends, and they agreed to bring them on Monday evening. That would give Kyle a total of three visitors by Monday night – probably about right, Megan told herself.
The psychiatrist logged into the video system to make sure that she could monitor Kyle and Jessica’s visit, and fortunately, her login was successful.
It seemed like a short time later when the receptionist called Megan to tell her that Jessica and Carly had arrived. Carly had decided to wait for Jessica, and the latter was escorted into a comfortable visitation area where Kyle was waiting.
After two hours, the girls had scarcely touched the surface of their need to share. Megan anonymously watched through the video system as the two shared tears, hugs, giggles, and even laughs. While Kyle needed further counseling to help her overcome the grief of losing her parents, it was apparent to Megan that any danger of further harm to herself was nonexistent.
Jessica and Kyle were teary when they left each other, and Megan decided that if she didn’t pursue temporary custody, then Kyle would need to be stay in the area where she and Jessica could continue their relationship. It was obvious that interaction with friends would be an important part of Kyle’s recovery.
It was 9:00 p.m. before Jessica left Kyle’s company. Megan was mentally exhausted from the weekend. But there was one more phone call that she had to make.
Susie Templeton was a “night owl” whose optimum amount of sleep was six hours. As a result, she went to bed late and arose early. It was no surprise to her when the phone rang and the caller ID showed “Megan Phillips”.
“Hi, lady!”
“Hi! I was hoping that you were home.”
“What if I said that I was at a wild party and I was actually in a closet?”
“Right. And my name is Anne Hathaway.”
“Why, Anne, it’s so nice talking to you!”
“Shut up! I really called about something serious.”
Susie’s tone changed abruptly from play to concentrated listening.
“Oh. I’m sorry. You’re usually pretty goofy after a weekend on call.”
“Susie, this morning, everyone in class prayed for me and the situation with Kyle. Do you still feel good about it? I can’t get Kyle out of my mind.”
“Yeah, I sense that it’s right. I’ve prayed for you several times this afternoon. I’ve never seen you react this way to a patient before. But I just know that it’s going to work out.”
“Thank you. I observed her with her best friend tonight, and she’s a wonderful young woman, very loving and caring. I think that her parents’ death is a bit of a relief to her, even though it’s left a lot of unanswered questions for her.”
“Like who’s going to take care of her.”
“Yes. And what will that person be like? And will they live close by so that she can still go to the same school and have the same friends.”
“And?”
“If I have her, then all of that will be taken care of. She can continue her school life, at least, with few changes. She can start attending as the girl she is, instead of having to pretend to be a boy. That damned father of hers.”
“I remember when you and Matt were serious. You wanted a child. Then after he died, you were questioning why you ever sought such a thing in your life. I told you then, and I’m telling you now, God works in strange ways. Our paths can change suddenly.”
“Like the way our friendship started.”
“God was with us both that evening. You needed someone right then, and later on when I went off the tracks, you were there for me. I don’t think that I would have even turned on that program if my best friend hadn’t threatened to cut off our friendship.”
“And you know that I only did that because I love you. I couldn’t seem to reach you.”
“But God did. And the rest is history for the both of us.”
“So that’s the reason why I feel so good about this.”
“I think that He has someone who needs you. And you were just in the right place at the right time. When are you going to see your boss about this?”
“Tomorrow morning. I don’t know if it’s even possible, but I want to try. Kyle’s worth it.”
“OK, then!” Then Susie’s mood shifted back to one of teasing her friend. “Thank you for calling Templeton Counseling. That’ll be $100 for the session, please.”
“You are so dead. I’ll get you for that last part.”
The two laughed heartily, but Megan excused herself and promised to call Susie the next day, after she met with Terry Weston.
Hanging up, Megan reflected that she hadn’t even asked Kyle’s opinion yet. That would need to be determined soon, she decided. Maybe even as soon as tomorrow.
The psychiatrist remembered that there would be other questions for Kyle, such as burial arrangements for her parents. Since both of them died of homicide, the Medical Examiner would take a quick look at them then release the bodies to the state. It would be up to Kyle as to whether her parents would have a cemetery interment or would be cremated. The teen would be forced to make several grown-up decisions in spite of being only fifteen.
CHAPTER 13
Monday morning - Office of Terry Weston, MD (Metro Hospital – Chief of Mental Health Services)
It was around 11:00 a.m. when Megan entered Terry’s office suite. His administrative assistant greeted Megan warmly as she arrived. But the psychiatrist was hyper-focused on the reason for her visit and what she was going to say.
“I have an appointment to see him about now. Is he available?” Megan asked. Earlier in the morning, she had called to seek an appointment with him, and this was his only open spot for the entire day.
“He is. Good luck. It’s been a busy morning.”
Terry Weston arose from his desk when Megan entered. He looked every bit the quintessential psychiatrist, from his graying Van Dyke beard and hair, to the suit with a tweed-type fabric. Most of the time, he had a pleasant demeanor, but appeared mildly stressed this morning. Budget cuts to the Mental Health unit occupied his mind and made him more glad than usual that he would be retiring within a few years.
“Hi, Megan. You wanted to talk with me? I assume it’s nothing bad.”
Megan smiled at him, although inside she was nervous having to talk to her boss about Kyle.
“Oh, no, Terry. Nothing like that. I just wanted to talk with you about a patient.”
“Let me guess. The boy, or rather the girl, whose parents died last Friday night.”
“That’s the one. Sir, I’ve spent a total of ten hours with her over the weekend. That doesn’t count the time that I observed her with her best friend last night. She shows a great amount of grief, as you might guess, but she’s not depressed. It really surprised me. Most girls who cut show at least some kind of depression. I think that she cut to get her dad’s attention that she was serious about her femininity.”
“Makes sense. I know you just didn’t come in to give me a report, though.”
Megan sighed. Here goes, she thought. “I want to be appointed as her temporary guardian.”
The elder psychiatrist sighed and mildly frowned at her request.
“Megan, as a professional, I’d advise against it. There’s nothing ethically wrong with it. I mean, we can always transfer her case to another physician. But, a transgender teen who just lost both parents? That’s a load to take on. And while you may have spent a lot of time with her, do you really know her?”
“I know what you’re thinking and I can understand where you’re coming from. But there’s no one in this city who understands her more than I do. I was transgender like her. My parents booted me out and disowned me when I was eighteen. So I was by myself. Like her, I had no brothers and sisters – it was just me. And we both cut because we couldn’t deal with everything. Try to find a foster home whose parents would understand and be able to deal with all of that.”
Weston shrugged his shoulders as he studied Megan’s face and thought about her arguments. Megan was right. There weren’t enough foster homes for teens, and for a special case like this, it would be doubly hard for Social Services to locate one by the weekend when Metro would have to discharge Kyle.
“You love her, don’t you? I see it in your eyes.”
“The more that I look into her eyes, the more that I see myself at that age. I’m just blessed to meet up with her at the right time and help her to reach whatever goals that she has for herself.”
Weston sighed and managed a weak smile. “Go for it, Megan. You have my blessing. Just make sure that you talk over with her and if she’s in favor of it, get her case transferred immediately. I don’t want us to be blamed of some improper action from the ethics people. Get in touch with Amy West. She’s the hospital’s liaison with the State Social Services people. She can tell you how to proceed.”
“Will do. Thank you, sir.”
“You’re welcome, Megan. And good luck to you and to her.”
Early Monday afternoon
After leaving Weston’s office, Megan went to the cafeteria and purchased her lunch “to go”. Bringing it back to her office, she formulated her plans. She wanted to have as many answers as possible before calling Amy West.
Because of her anxious mood, though, Megan ate her lunch faster than usual, and fifteen minutes later, she was done and ready to call Amy. Picking up her office phone, she dialed Amy’s number. West answered on the second ring.
Megan introduced herself and asked if she had heard about Kyle’s case. As a result of the weekend news reports, Amy had heard about Kyle and knew that she was in the Mental Health unit at Metro. While she knew that Kyle would have to be released by the weekend, Amy hadn’t yet started to work on Kyle’s case. More importantly, though, she was willing to meet with Megan immediately even though she didn’t provide a reason for the visit.
Megan headed to Amy’s office, which was located in the office tower next to the Mental Health Unit. As soon as she arrived, Megan noted that it was barely more than a closet. It confirmed her belief that some of the most important jobs in the hospital were done in the smallest places.
Megan introduced herself, and though Amy was friendly, her immediate demeanor wasn’t warm.
Amy was curious, though, for Megan’s visit.
“Dr. Phillips…”
“Call me Megan, please.”
“Megan, why did you come to see me? Is there some kind of problem?”
“Oh, absolutely not. I’m here about Kyle Britton. I was just wondering what the procedure would be for me to adopt Kyle, at least temporarily.”
“Are you sure that you want to do that? You’d have to give her up as a patient, plus taking on a teen-ager.”
“Amy, she needs me. I’m transgender – she’s transgender. I was kicked out and disowned at eighteen. Her parents have died. Both of us grew up as only children.”
“So you have a lot in common with Kyle. I see.” Amy sighed as she leaned back in her chair. There’s more than enough misgivings to go around with this one, but it sure would be an easy way out, she thought. The social worker decided to take Megan up on her offer. “Well, I think that we can do the background check and home visit this week. It’ll be kind of rushed, but I think that we can get it done. Have you talked to Kyle yet?
“No. I didn’t want to bring it up until I found out whether it was possible. Since it is, I’ll talk to her about this afternoon. I have a session scheduled with her at 3:00.”
“OK. Let me know as soon as you find out. If she’s interested in being your ‘daughter’, even temporarily, we’ll need to get everything started right away.”
Megan finally smiled, and Amy reciprocated. “Thank you. I didn’t even consider this until after I had a couple of sessions with her. We clicked like…” Megan paused.
“Like a mother and daughter?”
“Yeah, like that. I’ve been in practice for eight years, and probably talked to several hundred teen-agers, but I’ve never had that feeling before.”
“You know, some scientists have proposed that all of us have chemicals and that attractions like this are chemical in nature. They say that we’re naturally predisposed to knowing when someone is compatible.”
“Well, whatever it is, I just feel drawn to her. I guess that she’s a little old to be my daughter, but somehow, that’s the role I see for us.”
“Just tell everyone who doesn’t know any better that you got pregnant as a teenager.”
Both women laughed. Inside, though, Amy was relieved. Kyle would have been a tough one to place in a temporary, or maybe even permanent, foster situation.
“I’ll email you all of the paperwork as soon as we’re done here. If you can complete it tonight, I can take the information and get started on it tomorrow. With a little luck, we’ll be ready for the judge by the Thursday hearing.”
“Thursday hearing? Judge?”
“Before temporary custody can be assigned, a judge has to put his stamp of approval on it. Don’t worry, it’s not a real judge, just an administrative law judge.”
“Will I have to appear?”
“It would be better if you did. That way, in case there are any questions, they can be resolved immediately. Since Kyle is in this facility, I’m assuming that the hearing will be right here in the building. Also, due to Kyle’s age, she’ll have to appear, as well. The judge will be probably be curious as to why Kyle’s psychiatrist wants to be at least a temporary custodian. So be prepared to answer some questions along that line. You sure you’re up to all of this?”
“I think so. The idea is still kind of new to me, but I’m sure that between now and Thursday, I’ll be ready.”
“Megan, I really admire you. There’s a young person with a need, and you stepped up to take care of it.”
“God calls me to do it.”
“I’m sure He’ll be happy.”
“Thanks again, Amy.”
“Any time, Megan. I expect we’ll be seeing each other again. I’ll need to interview you at least one more time before the Thursday hearing.”
“Just give me a call and I’ll juggle my patients to fit your schedule. Thanks again for all your help.”
“Bye now!”
The two women smiled at each other as they rose from their respective chairs. Megan waved at Amy as she left the social worker’s office.
Now it would be up to Kyle.
Patient session, Metro Hospital Mental Health Unit, later on Monday afternoon
Now that Kyle was among the general population, it was easier to meet her for yet another session. They met in a therapy room that was equipped with a sofa, two comfortable wing-back chairs, and a couple of tables. The latter had lamps on them so that sessions didn’t have to be conducted with the glare of overhead fluorescent lighting, something that Megan disdained. To her, overhead fluorescents smacked of institutional décor, something she didn’t want to project as she attempted to treat her patients.
Kyle came in promptly at 3:00 and gave Megan a big hug as part of her greeting. Megan could tell that she was still very upset and grieving, but she was beginning to adjust the idea that life would be changing a lot very soon.
First, Megan had to determine the teen’s wishes for her parents. She was very adamant – both of her parents had expressed their desire for cremation. Kyle also expressed a lack of desire to handle their ashes. “Ooh, let someone else handle them” was her reaction. Once the unpleasantness of immediate decisions was complete, Kyle and Megan talked for almost an hour and a half. It was apparent to Megan that Kyle had entered a new phase in the grieving process. Kyle had moved through the denial, anger and bargaining steps more quickly than anyone Megan had encountered before. But now, there was a bit of depression that went along with acceptance. Kyle spent a lot of time talking about her future and where she envisioned herself without parents.
Without warning, though, Kyle asked, “What kind of people would want to adopt me? I mean, I’m not your cute little four- or five-year-old whose biggest problem is losing their teddy bear.”
Megan carefully answered, “I think that you’re selling yourself short. You’re pretty, you’re intelligent, well-spoken, and you get along well with people.”
“Well, I guess that most people think about all the drama and stuff that we have.”
“A lot of people have heart. They crave someone like that in their life. People tend to go through life, living day-to-day with their job, their house or apartment, their friends, things like that. Then they wake up and figure out that all of that ‘stuff’ leaves them incomplete.”
“OK. I’m just going by what I’ve read. I spent a lot of time looking up stuff on the Internet yesterday, now that I can do that.”
“There are all kinds of adoptive families. What do you think that your adoptive family should look like?”
“Really, I don’t want any brothers or sisters. I want it to be just like at my Mom and Dad’s house.”
“So you want to be the only child.”
“Yeah. I want to experience life with having things, I mean not expensive, but I mean having all your clothes bought at Wal-Mart or the thrift store gets kind of old.”
Megan nodded.
Kyle went on. “Y’know, it wouldn’t be all bad if I had just one parent. Someone that I could get really close to. Someone that would work toward understanding me. Like you. I mean, I know you’re single, but do you have kids?”
“Kyle, I’ve never been married. And yes, I want children someday. I’m planning to adopt one someday.” Megan shuddered inside at the question. Even though the wounds of her past were healed for the most part, sometimes circumstances ripped at the scar. The psychiatrist had to put her own feelings aside and quickly moved back to concentrating on her patient.
“How about me? I’m available. And I can cook – I used to help Mom with the meals. I can do laundry. And think about it this way – I’m mostly grown. No diapers, no whiney toddlers or having to be called by the principal.”
Covering her real feelings effectively, Megan laughed at Kyle’s last comment. “Are you asking me to adopt you?” This is too good to be true, Megan told herself, smiling at her patient. Here I thought about adopting Kyle, and now Kyle’s the one considering it without prompting.
Kyle shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah! I mean, I really like you. You just seem like you would make a good Mom. I gotta go home with somebody by this weekend from what you’ve told me, and I’d rather go home with you than some stranger.”
Megan’s heart began pounding. “Really? I’ve never done this with a patient before, but Kyle, I was thinking the same thing about you.”
“It’s a sign. Jessica and I have always talked about signs. This sounds like one of those times.” Kyle switched her voice to a lower pitch as if she was recording a commercial or movie trailer. “Tell me, Doctor Phillips, what kind of accommodations can I expect?” Both doctor and patient laughed for a long time.
“Well, if you must know, Miss Britton, I have a three bedroom townhouse very close to here. One of the bedrooms is never used, and it’s already equipped with a bed and a chest. All you would have to do is to bring your clothes and your other personal things, and you would be ready to go. You can still go to the same school. Jessica could still be your best friend. Your life can go on with a lot of things being the same.”
Kyle’s heart momentarily pounded as she weighed what Megan had told her. “Wait a minute, though. What does that do to us, I mean as doctor and patient? I mean, you know me better than anyone now.”
“I would have to transfer your case to another doctor. In fact, the second that I give the go ahead to begin temporary adoption, even before Social Services makes up their mind, I have to do that. But, as your ‘parent’, we would have a lot more time. Plus, I could help you out a lot more than just being your doctor.”
“Let’s make it happen! What can I do?”
“There’s going to be a social worker named Amy West who will come to see you. Be totally honest with her and express your feelings completely. Tell her your fears, your hopes, your dreams, everything. She will ask you how you would feel about living with me, about how you would envision me as your ‘Mom’”.
“That’s it?”
“That’s all.”
Megan and Kyle continued talking for several more minutes until the session ended. Megan told Kyle about the doctor who would be seeing her until her release from Metro. It was an attempt by the psychiatrist to put her patient at ease. But the dynamics had changed. Both were anticipating something stronger than just a patient and doctor relationship. Megan just hoped that Kyle wasn’t counting on the court awarding the physician temporary custody. It would all depend upon Thursday’s hearing and how the judge would view the situation.
CHAPTER 14
Three days later - Thursday morning, conference room 15, Metro Hospital
Megan was anxious and nervous. Arriving at the conference room fifteen minutes early, she wondered if she really knew what she was doing. Everyone that she had talked to had nothing but encouragement for her. Finally, after saying a quick prayer, her spirit calmed and her anxiousness abated.
This conference room was arranged differently, with a wooden conference table at the front of the room and seating for thirty others in five rows of six chairs each. Megan took a seat over on the right side, preferring to remain in the background.
Without warning, Amy and Kyle arrived and took chairs next to each other in the front and center of the room, directly in front of a wooden conference table that would serve as a “judicial bench”. Right behind them, a man and a woman entered, the woman carrying a small machine. Megan assumed that it was the judge and the reporter. Oooh, this a little too much like court, something that Megan had experienced more than once, but had never relished.
“Hi, Amy.”
“Hi, Judge Smith. “ Amy looked over at Megan, looking to introduce the psychiatrist to the judge. At once, Megan moved over closer to Amy and Kyle. “Judge Robert Smith, this is Dr. Megan Phillips. She is Kyle’s psychiatrist.” With these words, Megan moved to a seat adjacent to Amy and Kyle.
“Nice to meet you, Judge”, Megan responded.
“Likewise.” He looked around, seemingly bored. “OK, let’s get this started. We’re here today to determine temporary custody of Kyle Andrew Britton, a male minor. Kyle’s mother and father became deceased while he was in the custody of Metro Hospital’s Metro Health Unit.”
Looking up from his notes, he spotted Kyle and asked Amy, “Is this Kyle?”
Amy answered without emotion, “It is, Your Honor.”
“Could have fooled me. Mister Britton, I’m sorry. I almost called you Miss Britton.” Megan found it interesting that the judge mistook Kyle for a girl, even with her androgynous unit-issued jumpsuit.
“It’s OK, sir. Most people do mistake me for a girl.” Megan could tell that Kyle was on the verge of laughter. Don’t laugh, she wanted to yell, wanting Kyle to not embarrass herself.
“Amy, do you have a recommendation as to custody of Kyle?”
“I do, Your Honor. I would like to recommend that Dr. Megan Phillips be appointed as temporary guardian of Kyle for a period of ninety days. If Dr. Phillips meets the requirements for permanent custody and wishes to pursue such action, then another hearing can be held to determine action at that time.”
Smith looked directly at Megan. “Dr. Phillips, this is unusual for a psychiatrist to seek adoption for one of his or her patients. What led you to seek at least temporary custody of Kyle?”
Megan swallowed. Here we go, she told herself. It was necessary for her to switch to male pronouns to refer to Kyle, she reminded herself. “Your Honor, Kyle is transgendered, as I am. I grew up as an only child, as did he. I was kicked out of my parents’ home at age 19 and was disowned shortly thereafter, and as a result, grew up alone with help only from friends. We have a lot in common. I felt that I was uniquely qualified to help him through and become the person that he’s meant to be.
The judge raised his eyebrows. “Does that include making a transition to becoming a young woman?”
“Yes, sir, it does. From the initial interview until his last session yesterday, he has steadfastly maintained his desire to live full-time as a female. Since I have made that transition myself, I also feel uniquely qualified to help him through that phase of his life.”
“Amy, are you comfortable with this arrangement?”
“I am. Dr. Phillips has already transferred care of Kyle to another mental health professional. Our home visit found that Dr. Phillips has a home that is well-suited to house another person and has adequate financial resources to take care of any need that Kyle might have. On a personal note, I firmly believe that Kyle would be a difficult placement and that Dr. Phillips is doing the State a huge favor by seeking custody.”
The judge then addressed Kyle.
“Kyle, do you feel that Dr. Phillips would be a good parent for you?”
“Absolutely, sir. I feel like that she knows me almost as well as my best friend.”
“How are you going to feel about moving away from the home where you grew up?”
Megan quietly sighed. Sometimes the craziest questions came out of these proceedings. Fortunately, she had been here before, but as a psychiatrist. She was amazed at how these hearings were sometimes sidetracked.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think about it this week. When I lived at home, I spent a lot of time in my room, scared that my dad was going to beat me. Yes, my mom was wonderful to me and I’m going to miss her, but sometimes life just happens. I just have to move on.”
“You seem like a well-adjusted, er, young person. OK, I hereby order that Dr. Megan Phillips be awarded custody of Kyle Andrew Britton for a period of ninety days from release date, which I believe is Friday. At the end of that time, Dr. Phillips will be given the opportunity to apply for permanent custody at her option, provided that temporary custody is carried out and completed according to the rules and regulations of the State. Thank you for your time, everyone.” Immediately, the judge and reporter got up and gathered their paperwork. Megan raised her voice a bit and told the judge as he started to leave the room “Thank you, Judge Smith!”. Smith smiled back and kept walking, leaving Amy, Megan, and Kyle behind in the now empty room.
Amy smiled at Kyle. Megan saw Kyle whisper a question to Amy, to which Amy nodded her head. Kyle turned and quickly walked over to Megan.
Coming up to Megan, Kyle said to her “Looks like I’m yours, if you still want me.”
“Kyle, you’re selling yourself very short. Of course I want you, otherwise I wouldn’t have taken the time to do all that I have in the past few days.”
“I’m sorry. I guess I’m just nervous. It still feels unreal that I’m not going home to Mom and Dad anymore.”
Megan reached over and gave Kyle a hug, not tight but enough for her to know that Megan did care. While still holding her, Megan almost whispered to her. “I’m nervous, too. I’ve never had anyone that I was responsible for. It’s always been just me.”
Releasing her hug, Megan looked Kyle in the eye and shifted her speech to a more emphatic tone. “But you know what? We both have come through a lot in our lives and together, we’re going to be just fine.”
Kyle nodded her head. All that the teen wanted was a place to take herself after her stay at Metro. She sensed somehow that what happened was by some kind of divine plan, that she and Megan were destined to meet up this way. A sense of calm overcame her, in part due to the words of reassurance from her new mother. Looking back into Megan’s eyes, she smiled and nodded.
Megan continued. “Look, there’s a million things to do, and a lot of it I just found out about yesterday. First of all, I need to get you some clothes. You can’t very well walk out of here in that ‘uniform’, can you? What sizes do you wear? Tell me what you like and I’ll pick up a few outfits. Then we go clothes shopping on Saturday.”
Kyle’s nervousness had abated, but the resultant adrenaline rush left her in a bit of a silly mood.
“I wear an 8 in shoes. I’d like some platform ankle boots with at least a six inch heel. And some really short skirts and crop tops to go with them!”
“Um, no.” Megan shook her head, surprising even herself at her tone which sounded surprisingly like a mother. Maybe this new role won’t be such a big change after all, she fleetingly thought.
Kyle giggled. “Beggars can’t be choosers, I guess. OK, I wear a five in jeans, and usually a small in tops. I can show you better what I really like when we go shopping. It’s gonna be really weird not to have to buy all guy-looking clothes.”
“Never again. You’re a girl now, plain and simple. You can dress the way you want, as long as it’s something that keeps everything halfway covered within reason. And I won’t approve anything unless I’ve seen it before on a girl your age.”
“It’s a deal.” She paused for a minute to once again stare into Megan’s face. “When do I go home with you? Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow afternoon late. I’ll see patients until about 3, then I’m going to wait around until they call me from the unit here. Then we’ll go home after we’ve gone out to eat somewhere.”
“We didn’t each out much.” The teen held her head down, partly from shame that she didn’t come from such a lifestyle.
“You don’t worry. This is so new for each one of us. As long as we’re open and listening to each other, we’ll be fine.”
The mix of emotions had become too much for Kyle to handle and she began to tear up. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m still scared a little bit.”
“That’s natural, Kyle. You’ve had a lot to adjust to in the space of five days.”
Amy was still waiting on Kyle to re-join her for the trip back to the unit for Kyle’s final night there. Out of the corner of her eye, Megan spotted Amy’s restlessness, and told Kyle, “Look, Amy’s waiting to take your room. We can talk all we want tomorrow night, even if it’s all night. Give me one more hug.”
Kyle obliged, giving the psychiatrist a tight hug that almost knocked the breath out of Megan. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I can’t wait, even if I’m nervous about it.”
“Remember one thing. You’re not alone – ever. We have each other now. Working together, we’ll be OK. I’ll see you tomorrow, Kyle.”
Kyle smiled, released her grip on Megan then slowly walked over to Amy, waving at her as the two left for the elevator.
As Kyle and Amy left her sight, Megan began to tear up. Having a child was something that she had wanted deeply for the last several years, and now it was really happening. It wasn’t an infant – it was a young adult, a young woman who had been through a lot of trauma from a terrible tragedy. Will Kyle accept me? Will I be a good enough role model for her? This was far different than what she had imagined. The enormity of the task ahead overwhelmed her for the moment as a few tears ran down her cheek. Quickly recovering, she made her way downstairs. There were still a couple of patients to see before her evening run with Susie.
Thursday late afternoon and evening, Maxwell Park
As they had done many times before, Susie Templeton and Megan Phillips, best friends since college, met up for a late afternoon run.
Susie, who had been exchanging short phone calls with Megan all week, was anxious to find out how the hearing went concerning custody of Kyle.
Megan, who was normally not shy about revealing her current mental state, was unusually reticent as they began to prepare for their run with stretches. Susie thought to herself, I’ve had enough, I have to know what happened.
“So how did it go today?” The two women had been friends long enough to know almost exactly what the other was thinking.
“Well, she’s mine. I take ninety day custody of her tomorrow afternoon around 4.”
“And why aren’t you jumping up and down? You’ve wanted this forever.”
“I’ve wanted a child, a baby, forever. This is an almost grown young woman with all of the adolescent angst and everything else that goes on. Plus she’s been through a trauma, some emotional and physical abuse, and who knows what else.”
“And?”
“I don’t know that I did the right thing. I mean, God opened all kinds of doors to get me to this point, but did He really mean it, or did I just happen to pound on the right doors at the right time and ignore everything that He might have been telling me in favor of my own will?”
Susie gave a stern look to her best friend.
“Listen, if God didn’t want this to happen, he would have SHUT every door and not allowed them to open. You’ve had so freaking much love in your heart for the whole time that I’ve known you. And you’re not getting any younger, Megan.”
Megan looked downtrodden, but with understanding.
Susie continued. “How many times have you told me, ‘Put it in God’s hands’. OK, it’s my turn to tell you that now.”
Finally, a normal Megan face appeared. “OK. I promise. Now let’s see which one of us gets to the five mile marker first.”
“You’re on!” the investment advisor exclaimed.
Finally, Megan had settled her mind with her friend’s help.
CHAPTER 15
The next day - Friday afternoon
A bit after 4:00 p.m., Megan’s office phone rang. She had been anticipating this moment ever since the hearing the previous day. It was time to take Kyle to her new home. Earlier in the day, she had taken two pairs of jeans and two tops to the area where Kyle was staying. She was glad that Kyle’s blood-stained clothes had been thrown out as part of her admission.
Megan ran upstairs to where Kyle was to meet her upon checkout. By the time that Megan made it there, Kyle was standing there animatedly tapping her foot and smiling as the psychiatrist made it in the door.
The two greeted each other with a hug.
“You look nice”, Megan offered. “It’s good to see you in something besides that jumpsuit thing.”
“Thank you. You did a great job with my clothes. They fit perfectly! I mean, I told you the sizes, but how did you know how to fit me?”
They began walking toward the elevator to leave the unit.
Megan quietly whispered, “Kyle, it’s something that I learned how to do a long time ago. Imagine being a guy and you’re going into the women’s clothing department. In most places, you can’t try on anything. So you learn how to look and judge whether or not something will fit. I got pretty good at it when I was sixteen and seventeen.”
Kyle’s eyes widened at the thought, but before she could respond, the elevator doors opened and the two entered. Megan pressed “G2” for the second level of the parking garage where her assigned space was located.
Kyle asked, “Megan, how far do you live from here?”
“Oh, just about ten minutes or so.”
“Is it a really nice place? I mean, you said it was three bedrooms.”
“It was built just a few years ago. There’s three levels. The bottom level is a two-car garage. The living room, dining room, and kitchen are on the second level, and the bedrooms are on the third level.”
Kyle had never been in such a place, and she frantically tried to imagine what it might look like.
Within seconds, the doors opened into the well-lit parking garage. The two walked briskly the last two hundred feet to Megan’s X3 SUV.
Kyle’s eyes got large again as she jumped into the passenger seat. She had never been in a luxury car, except for the Lexus that Jessica’s mom owned. The dashboard of this vehicle looked different, deciding that European vehicles were somehow of a different class. The leather seats seemed more like a chair in a home than in a vehicle.
Megan interrupted Kyle’s wide-eyed surveying. “Is there anywhere you’d like to eat? Some place that you’ve seen on TV but never been there?”
“Yeah!” Kyle spoke loudly and named a moderately priced national chain restaurant. Well, at least this part is easy, Megan reflected.
The psychiatrist caught the teen looking down at the Start button. Megan asked Kyle, “You want to start it?”
“Sure!” Kyle looked wide eyed as she pushed the button and engine purred to life. Keeping an eye on the picture provided by the backup camera, the teen kept looking around at her surroundings in Megan’s vehicle. This is gonna be a different life, she decided.
After a fifteen minute drive, they arrived at the restaurant. Since it was still early for dinner, the wait for a table was nonexistent. After the pair were seated, Kyle began to peruse the menu with wide eyed wonderment. Kyle was definitely abused, Megan concluded. The psychiatrist began to realize the extent of Jerry’s control and alcoholism and the effect that it had on her Kyle and her late mother.
Kyle began to talk even more openly about her previous life now that she was officially out of the hospital. She detailed the beatings from Jerry that she endured, how she kept her ‘girl clothes’ in a secret place so that Jerry wouldn’t find them, and many other things.
It was two hours before the teen and her new Mom were ready to leave the restaurant. By this time, Megan felt that she knew more about Kyle than she had ever known about any other patient in her practice’s history.
After another short drive, they arrived at Megan’s townhouse. The teen’s anticipation was beginning to wear off and reality was beginning to set in. After Megan parked “the Beemer” (as she called her SUV), the doctor quickly alit to unlock the door from the garage into the townhouse. Kyle reluctantly followed behind, unsure about what to do or what was going to happen. “Come on up and I’ll show you around, Kyle”, Megan remarked with an air of reassurance as she swung the townhouse door open, giving Kyle a light hug around the waist.
Kyle looked around with curiosity and wonder, almost speechless. Megan took her to every room and every closet, not holding back anything. Finally, they reached the bedroom that would become Kyle’s new home.
“Here it is – your new bedroom. Of course, it won’t stay like this. We’ll go to your Mom and Dad’s house and pick up your things in a couple of weeks. It’ll be a lot more familiar to you once you get your things here.”
Reality finally set in for the young woman. She had to admit to herself that she would never be back in the familiar room with the fire escape ladder attached to the window, with her Mom downstairs preparing dinner, and her yard with the trees that she climbed as a little girl. She would instead be in a new place with a woman that she knew a lot about but had only been around for a week.
Megan followed Kyle back downstairs to the living room. The teen sat down on the couch that was sitting opposite a big-screen television. Rubbing her hand along the fabric, she had to admit that she admired the townhouse. It was so different, so much plusher. Her thoughts turned to her old home with its old furniture, sometimes creaky floors, the hugs and encouragement of her mother – and the beatings that she endured from her father. It was a crushing barrage of emotions, and Kyle broke down with a combination of tears of happiness to be somewhere, but tears of sadness for the good parts of her old life going away.
Megan knew what was happening, and hugged Kyle tightly. The two continued talking until time to go to bed.
The next day - Saturday morning
As Megan expected, Kyle slept late. Megan, on the other hand, found sleep difficult. The enormity of taking over a teen’s life had left her mildly upset, in spite of many prayers.
Since Kyle was a minor, there would be the liquidation of her parents’ estate to handle. Plus, there would be returning to the house where Kyle grew up, then having to tell her to retrieve anything that she wanted then tell everything else goodbye. The latter involved trauma even for grown adults, much less a teen who had just lost her parents.
Megan had contacted the police to see if she could put off any clearing of furniture and clothes for a couple of weeks. There was no reason to expose Kyle to any more trauma for at least several days. Whenever you’re ready, the police told her. In the meantime, the home had been secured and cleaned.
During the middle of the night, with much prayer, Megan finally fought through all of the negative emotions and decided to handle things “one step at a time”. By 8:00, though, she was ready to arise and the first step was to make a cup of Ethiopian coffee whose blend was freshly ground earlier in the week from a shop close to Megan’s running path at Maxwell Park.
With the tasks that she faced, Megan needed to seek solace in her Bible. For thirty minutes, she read from Matthew and Isaiah, gathering strength from her readings. By the time that Kyle awakened, she was ready to tackle everything that needed to be done and had even begun making notes.
A bit after 9:00, Megan heard the door open in what would now be Kyle’s bedroom. Because it was quiet, Kyle quietly said, “Hello? Megan?”
“I’m right here, Kyle.”
Kyle walked barefoot toward Megan’s bedroom and stood in her doorway. Looking down at Megan, she half-smiled, but Megan’s experience told her that there was much more. Obviously, waking up in a new place left her dazed, confused, missing her old home, but excited to be in a new one.
Megan put down the tablet and Bible and walked over to Kyle and gave her a hug.
“How did you sleep?” Megan asked Kyle.
“Great! My Mom used to have this expression, ‘I think I died’. That’s the way I felt.”
“Of course. It’s been a huge week for you. Are you OK?”
Nodding, Kyle looked up at Megan and remarked, “I woke up this morning and I didn’t know where I was for a minute. I kind of jumped. Then I remembered. I mean, this is nice, but I miss my room. I don’t miss my Dad, but I really miss my Mom.”
“Give yourself time, Kyle. We’re not made to jump from one situation to another, especially as young as you are. Why don’t we sit down and talk before we have breakfast?” Megan pointed to another chair opposite hers.
“Megan, I get really upset with myself when I think about the fact that Mom and Dad are gone.”
“Do you why you do that? A lot of times, we’re trying to tell ourselves that we’re OK, that we can just drop a part of our lives and pick up a new one. We can’t. I just want you to realize one thing – it’s OK to get upset, really upset if you need to. When we lose someone, we have to grieve for them. Grieving is part of being able to let go of people who aren’t in our lives anymore.”
“So, you’re not gonna get upset with me if I start to cry all of a sudden?”
“No, I won’t. In fact, I want you to cry. I don’t want you to play ‘super girl’. If you don’t cry, it’s telling me that you’re holding all of your emotions inside, and that will create more problems for you later on.”
Kyle got up and sat down in Megan’s lap, placing her arm around her shoulders as she placed her weight on Megan. “I knew there was a reason why I felt so good about having you for a Mom. I mean, you care about me like the way that my Mom used to. But you have even more answers than she did about things.”
“When you spend every day talking to people, it’s easier to have answers to a lot of things.”
“I know that’s true, but you have a good heart. “ Pausing to change the subject, she continued, “Did you say we’re going shopping today?”
Megan grinned back at her new daughter. “You bet we are. Better be ready to carry a lot of stuff back up the stairs when we get home.”
“Ooh. I forgot. But I’m way beyond excited.”
“Oh, I almost forgot. The ‘girl things’ that you have at home. Did they come from a thrift store?
“Most of ‘em. Mom didn’t spend a lot of money on them since I couldn’t wear to the school in front of Dad.”
“Are they in good shape? Could you wear them to school if we retrieved them in a couple of weeks?”
“I think so.”
“Well, while you’re shopping, keep in mind what you had at home and if it’s good enough to keep. If it is, then we’ll make sure to get them in a couple of weeks.”
“Is that when we’re going to get rid of my ‘boy clothes’?”
“Yes. As far as I’m concerned, you don’t need to cross-dress as a boy anymore.”
“Wow. This is like a dream.”
“It’s a new start, Kyle. Just enjoy it.”
Picking up her phone from the table beside them, she told Kyle, “Speaking of enjoying it, here’s my cell”, Megan said, “I thought that you might want to call Jessica to see if she wants to go with us.”
“Oh, my God! I can’t believe this!”
“I just thought that you and your friend would be a much better judge of what to get than I would. But, I just want you to know, I’m going to have veto power on what you choose. No slutty stuff is coming in this house.”
“OK, Megan.” Kyle had a huge grin on her face.
Kyle made an excited call to Jessica, and shortly after, Megan and Kyle pulled up to Jessica’s house. The two young girls began talking excitedly the second that Kyle rang her doorbell, and the conversation continued non-stop until they reached a small diner just down the street from the mall. At least I won’t need any entertainment today, Megan smiled inwardly.
Following breakfast, Megan drove the three to the mall. Before they left the SUV, Megan had one last word for the girls.
“OK, we’re going to start here, but I want you to keep in mind something as you’re shopping. Kyle is going to be starting hormone treatments soon. That’s going to change her shape and may even affect her weight a little. Before you pick out anything that’s really fitting, keep in mind that growing boobs and buns are going to need room. I’d rather you concentrate on dresses, skirts, and shoes here and leave jeans and tops for some thrift stores that we’re going to shop later today.”
The girls were obedient, and sure enough, the only clothing that was purchased at the mall were shoes and clothing that would be “safe” for Kyle’s changing shape. The girls wisely waited on a lot of purchases until they shopped at three different thrift stores later in the day.
Eight hours later, after dropping off Jessica, Megan and Kyle dragged back to Megan’s townhouse with over eighty pieces of clothing, including tops of all kinds, pants, dresses, and skirts, plus numerous packages of lingerie and ten pairs of shoes of various kinds.
Even with both of them, it took a long time to haul the clothing upstairs. Megan instructed Kyle and Jessica to pile it on a futon in Megan’s “office” which was housed in her third bedroom. After it was all accumulated, Kyle looked at the pile and sobbed from a combination of weariness from the week and happiness that she could finally live as she felt.
Megan stayed close, but wanted Kyle to let out all her emotions from the moment. “What do you think, Kyle?”
“I’m so tired, but I’m just so happy, too. This is like some kind of dream.”
“I’m tired, too, but I’m so happy that we could do this together.”
Suddenly, Kyle grabbed Megan and gave her a tight hug. “Thank you, Mom!”
Megan was caught off guard by both the hug and the words. “Mom?”
Kyle answered as she released her grip and looked Megan squarely in the eyes. “You ARE Mom, now. There’s no way that some foster parent would have taken me to do all that we did today. Only a Mom could have taken me in and let me live my dream.” It was impossible for Megan to hold in the tears any longer.
The pair resumed their hug, tired but happy. They didn’t have any idea of what was ahead, but both inherently knew that it would be together, at least for the foreseeable future.
CHAPTER 16
Ten days later
Thanks to her academic record, Kyle was dismissed from school for the three weeks that remained of her ninth grade year. Megan took several days of vacation to be with her since there was little to occupy Kyle’s time other than to watch television or cruise the internet on Megan’s desktop computer.
It was difficult for Megan to leave the role of psychiatrist behind when she came home and talked to Kyle. But she did her best, and in spite of being single for so long, Megan adapted quickly to having Kyle there.
Megan didn’t ask, but Kyle sporadically talked about what she wanted to retrieve from her home. It was difficult for the teen at first. When she began to think about what to remove and what to leave (for disposal), Kyle was reminded that her mother would no longer be there.
Two weeks after Kyle’s release from Metro, mother and daughter sat down together and made a list of the items that Kyle wanted to take from her former home. Megan was surprised at how little the teen wanted. Other than her girl clothes, the desk in her room, and some memorabilia of her mother, she didn’t want anything else. Surprisingly, Kyle didn’t even want her own bed from home. This was in spite of Megan’s offer to sign a lease for a storage unit for anything that Kyle wanted to keep.
By Friday evening, the two were prepared for “moving day”. Megan had decided, if Kyle was strong enough, to take all of the clothes in the house to Goodwill, and to retrieve any valuables that remained, regardless of whether Kyle wanted them. There was no use in leaving the house vulnerable to burglary until the liquidation company could come in and take everything for auction.
Kyle was still sleepy when Megan awoke her the next morning. There was a rental truck dealer a scant two blocks away and Megan wanted to get an early start. The two half-walked, half-jogged to the dealer in the cool morning air.
After they picked up a twelve foot cargo van, they drove to an IHOP where they quickly ate a protein-heavy breakfast. Megan guessed that they might be making many trips up and down stairs and wanted to avoid a “sugar crash” midway through.
After leaving the diner, Kyle remarked to Megan, “You can really drive this thing.”
“Honey, I can drive anything except a semi. I spent a summer doing jeep tours in the Colorado Rockies. Once you drive on those canyon roads, nothing scares you anymore.”
“Wow.”
At that moment, they rounded a corner in Kyle’s “old” neighborhood just a block from her house. As Kyle looked at the home where she grew up, she realized that things would never be the same – no Mom, no Dad, no flavorful meals prepared thoughtfully by her Mom, no tutoring sessions in the kitchen. The thoughts overwhelmed her, and by the time that they made it into the driveway, she was crying so much that it was almost a wail. Megan had to hold her for the better part of ten minutes until Kyle could calm down. After drying her tears, Kyle took Megan next door to meet Velma Hodgins. Then the two excused themselves so that they could start the day’s work.
This is one strong young woman, Megan reflected, as they left Velma’s house and carefully made their way around the yellow crime scene tape that still surrounded the house.
Fortunately, the cleaning crew had been to the home and all evidence of the Jerry Britton’s horrific crime and Kyle’s cutting were long gone. Other than some furnishings moved around, Kyle’s room was much as it had been when she last saw it.
Kyle took time to show Megan around so that her new mother would have an understanding of Kyle’s childhood. Then over the next few hours, the two loaded everything that Kyle wanted to take. The girl wanted more than she listed, which didn’t surprise Megan. Fortunately, she had made arrangements for a small storage unit “just in case”. After two trips to Goodwill, all of the clothes, bedding, and domestics were emptied from the house and donated. Then it came time for the rest. Some of it would end up in the storage unit, but for the most part, the load ended up in Kyle’s bedroom in the townhouse.
The toughest thing for the two to move into the townhouse was Kyle’s desk. The two tugged and pulled as they struggled to get it up the two floors from the garage to the bedroom. In the end, the two women laughed loudly as they finally made it to Kyle’s room.
At the end of the day, Megan and Kyle were “dog-tired” but happy. It had proven to be a day of tears, anticipation, and even excitement as they continued to share.
A week later - Monday afternoon
As well as the computer and television, Kyle had brought her video games from her old home and had spent a lot of her premature summer playing them. As she was playing, the phone beside her rang.
“Hello?” Kyle had finally gotten her own cell account thanks to Megan, but she was still unsure when she answered it.
“Hi!’ Megan’s voice was upbeat while talking to her new daughter.
“Hi, Mom! How are you doing?”
“Well, it’s been a busy day and I’m tired, but a run always helps out. You want to go with Susie and me on a run? It’s her off day, so we’re only going to go four miles.”
“Well, I’ve run three miles before, but not four. Are sure you want me to run with you two marathon veterans?”
“There’s a lot of difference between a marathon pace and what we do every day. We have to train ourselves to adjust our pace, and the last time we did it, we had to do it for months. We ran between fifteen and twenty miles every Saturday and it took forever sometimes. And as far as inexperienced teenager, it’ll be up to you to keep up! You’re far younger than us!”
“I’ll be ready! What time will you be by to pick me up?”
“Around 5:00. Make sure you eat some carbs just before. Susie and I don’t want to have to carry you back to the car.”
“Don’t worry, I’m tough. And yes, I’ll grab some trail mix.”
“That’s my girl. I’ll see you later.”
“Thanks! Love you, Mom!”
The last part made Megan smile. The two were developing quite a bond, which was miraculous considering the trauma that Kyle had been through. It had only been a bit over three weeks since her cutting episode landed her at Metro, and only twenty three days since her father had killed her mother and then committed suicide by cop.
Megan soon pulled up to the townhouse and opened the garage door. Kyle came bounding downstairs, opened the door from the garage into the townhouse, and checking her purse for the key, slammed it. The psychiatrist didn’t even put the SUV into Park, having changed herself at the office before coming home.
As Kyle ran to the car, Megan looked at her lovingly. She is one pretty girl, she decided, then quickly corrected herself. How can that possibly be a boy? But so what? She has an appointment with an endocrinologist on Wednesday. She won’t be a “boy” much longer, Megan reminded herself. Even so, in brightly colored running shorts, a pastel t-shirt, and a (gasp!) sports bra, she looked every part a teen girl, not a teen boy.
Kyle opened the door with teenage enthusiasm, flipping it open, jumping in, and telling Megan, “Let’s go!” As she clicked her seat belt, Kyle stared at Megan’s legs and smiled. “Woohoo! It’s a wonder some guy doesn’t try to lasso you as you fly by. Those are some great legs, Mom!”
“You’re cute”,
Megan smirked as she put the X3 in Drive and stomped on the gas.
Once at Maxwell Park, Megan found Susie in her usual spot.
Susie had met Kyle only once in spite of being with Megan for over two weeks. The blond smiled as Kyle jumped from the passenger seat and slammed the door behind her.
“Hi, Susie!” Kyle yelled as Megan shut off the SUV and grabbed her cell phone and keys.
“Looks like we have a threesome today! Are you sure you’re ready for a couple of real runners, sprout?”
“Why not?” It was obvious to Susie that Kyle was one tough teen, at least in attitude. We’ll see how she does after a few miles, Susie decided.
“Hi, Sus”, Megan greeted her best friend as they traded a friendly shoulder hug. “Yeah, I thought it was time that we test the newest addition to our family”, nodding her head toward Kyle.
Turning to Kyle, Susie spoke authoritatively to the teen. “OK, here’s how we stretch before running.” Kyle obliged, and before long, the threesome were on a four mile run. Midway through Kyle thought, ‘I’m going to die. But I can’t let them know that.’ But sooner than later, the run was over, and the spent teen was at long last able to rest.
“Almost too much for you, Kyle?” Susie decided to rib the teen as she saw Kyle’s look of desperation midway through their run.
“Oh, no! Not a problem!”
“I know better. Don’t you, Megan?”
“Kyle, we’ll take you again on our short runs before we build up to our six mile normal. Maybe you and I can do some running on the nights that Susie can’t make it.”
“OK, Mom!”
“Megan, I hate to run, ooh bad pun, but I have a conference call this evening with an attorney and a client. Last minute, you know.”
“Thank you, Susie.”
“Yeah, thanks, Susie”, Kyle added.
Before long, mother and new daughter were back in their vehicle headed home. After dinner, Kyle would be unusually quiet as she recovered.
Finally, Megan could stand no more. She asked Kyle, “Did you enjoy that?”
“I did. I just need to get in better shape. You guys were fantastic. There isn’t one girl out of a hundred in my school that could run the way that you two did.”
“Thank you. It’s just that she and I have run for years. You don’t get to where we are overnight. You did really well considering you haven’t ever run regularly. Just be patient with yourself, and I’ll especially try to look out for you.”
“Thanks, Mom. I want to do it again, soon. I really want to start running all the time, if it’s OK with you.”
Megan was surprised at that last comment, but happy. Hopefully, it would be a habit that she could keep up, she reflected.
CHAPTER 17
Two months later, Megan’s apartment, a Thursday evening/Friday morning in July, 2008
It had been a hectic eleven weeks in Megan and Kyle’s life. A custodian had been named to dispose of the house and remaining contents, and as hoped, there appeared to be a substantial gain, relieving Kyle of any worries in funding college.
Shortly after being given temporary custody, Megan arranged for Kyle to see an endocrinologist, Dr. Fred Snyder. Blood tests showed that Kyle had very little estrogen and no testosterone in her body. In Snyder’s words, “It’s no wonder that there’s no development one way or the other.” As a result, Kyle did not have to have a testosterone-blocking drug as part of the hormonal recipe to begin her transition from male to female. It was only a few short weeks after beginning the estrogen drug regimen that Kyle began to experience the first symptoms of her transition – her chest hurting as breast growth began.
While it was coming up on the end of the temporary custody period, Megan had been assured that permanent custody was practically a non-issue. She had begun the necessary paperwork, though.
Kyle was looking forward to beginning the new school year. Fortunately, Megan’s townhouse was located in the same school district so the teen wouldn’t even have to change schools.
Megan’s psychiatry practice had no further upheavals during this transition period. In fact, she was able to continue her almost-nightly runs with Susie Templeton, and had even convinced Kyle to come along sometimes. Her relaxing practice of a Jacuzzi soak was able to take place most of the time, too.
The teen and the woman had managed to meld their lives almost seamlessly, although at times, there was still teen drama on Kyle’s account. Sounds of “Moommmm…” had begun to be heard in the townhouse as much as it’s heard in houses with teen girls all over the country.
It was a Thursday evening in early July. Megan came home and the two had dinner. Kyle was learning to cook, and had managed to prepare a salad and pasta with meat dish for them, for which Megan was exceedingly grateful.
Around bedtime, Kyle began to experience mild cramping in her abdominal area. Thinking that it was just because she had too much excitement in a video game earlier in the day, the teen took some ibuprofen with her mother’s blessing. The pain went away and she fell asleep around 10:00. At 10:30, Megan had checked on her daughter before going to bed. But Kyle was already “out”, so Megan went to bed herself without thinking much more about it.
Just before 2:00 a.m., Kyle awoke in severe pain. “Mommm, hhheeelllppp”, she shouted to Megan, who immediately threw on her robe and came into Kyle’s room.
Kyle pointed to both sides of her upper abdomen as the source of the pain. Megan stopped being a Mom and became a doctor, pushing and prodding in a search for the source of Kyle’s pain.
Instructing her to lower her panties, Megan had begun an abdominal exam when she noticed the area where Kyle’s penis should have been located. Instead of a fully formed organ, there was a small stub that remotely reminded one of a penis. In addition, there was a scar extending from the “penile area” downward – a light one, but a scar nonetheless.
Temporarily ignoring Kyle’s pain, she began examining the external organ. There were no visible testes, and “his” urethra wasn’t located at the tip of the appendage. Megan then spotted the scar where Kyle’s vaginal opening had been sewn shut. Could Kyle have Congenital Adrenal Hyperplasia? Did Fred Snyder perform a full exam on Kyle, and why had he not caught this, Megan asked herself. The physician regretted her decision to remain in Fred’s office during Kyle’s exam.
Megan left her thought as Kyle writhed and yelped with pain once again. Stroking Kyle’s hair, Megan waited for the pain to once again subside and then continued her exam of Kyle.
Gently pushing on her abdomen, she located the young woman’s ovaries, a uterus that was of juvenile size, as well as the other major organs. Nothing seemed to be out of place except when Megan pushed on Kyle’s ovaries, which drew a cry.
Megan had a theory, but she would need to have another physician to order an ultrasound. To her, it seemed that Kyle might be having her first “period” and was suffering more than usual due to the large amount of female hormones currently circulating in her system. It was obvious that everyone had been caught off guard, believing the birth certificate that labelled Kyle as male, when she was in fact a female with a fairly rare condition.
Since there was nothing else for her to do, Megan carefully led Kyle downstairs and loaded her into her SUV for the short trip to the Metro Hospital emergency room. If the psychiatrist could get another physician to order an ultrasound immediately, the results might be very, very interesting, she concluded.
Metro Hospital Emergency Room, around 2:30 a.m. on Friday morning
The E.R. physicians were fortunately not busy, and within ten minutes, Kyle was hustled back to an examination/treatment room. Since Kyle was still a minor, Megan followed closely behind, not wanting to repeat her mistake with Fred Snyder.
The resident who first examined Kyle was as perplexed as Megan, but there was an Obstetrics/Gynecology specialist on duty in the hospital. Dr. Jason Jones came down to the E.R. shortly after being called by the resident.
Whenever Jones entered the room, he immediately recognized Megan. Megan had some issues with a vaginal infection at one time, and “Jason” had succeeded in getting rid of it whereas two other doctors had failed. Megan told him that if she ever had any other issues, she would call only him. To have him was more than a pleasant surprise, it was assurance that Kyle would have competent care.
“Hello, Megan! Pleasure to see you again!”
“Hi, Jason. Sorry to bother you so late.”
“No problem! I was already in the hospital with another patient when they called me. They said this involved your daughter?” Jason looked over to Kyle with curiosity. “I didn’t know that you had a daughter.”
“Oh, we’ve only been mom and daughter a couple of months. I get permanent custody in a couple of weeks if everything works out.”
“Congratulations. What’s going on, Kyle?”
Megan let Kyle tell her symptoms to Dr. Jones. Then she followed with a request.
“Just let me know if I’m dying, ‘cause I sure feel like it when these pains hit.”
Both doctors laughed heartily. Jones instructed Kyle to lay down for him, and as he carefully lifted the hospital gown, Megan strode over to stand behind him. She decided to point out what she found, then let the OB/Gyn doctor come to his own conclusions. Megan started the conversation, “Jason, look at this appendage. This can’t be a penis. There are no testicles, nor are there any signs of them. And look at this.” She pointed to the scar where she suspected some delivery room sewing had occurred. Either Kyle had accidentally been assigned male, or she was purposely mutilated.
“Kyle, were you born at Metro?” asked Jones.
“Yeah. Mom told me she had an eighteen hour labor and that it was hard. Then she had to have a hysterectomy a little later because of all of the problems that she had.”
Jones then turned, looking straight at Megan with a serious expression. “Why don’t you look in the medical archives? They digitized everything a couple of years ago and I bet that Kyle’s birth records would be in there.”
“Darn it. Of course.” Psychiatrists aren’t normally awake at this hour of the morning, she thought.
While Jones continued his examination of Kyle, Megan logged in to system using the computer in the examination room. Within a couple of minutes, she was staring at Kyle’s birth records and notes from Dr. Peter Nicosa. What she saw greatly disturbed her.
After Jones finished his examination of Kyle, he looked over at Megan and asked, “Find anything?”
“More than I want to know. A Peter Nicosa delivered Kyle and what he documented could have been grounds for a lawsuit.”
“I remember Nicosa. Died of cancer a few years ago. He was this little guy, prob’ly five feet six, real small. Seemed to have a good rapport with his patients.”
Megan said with a serious tone, “Read this.” Jason went over to the monitor and began reading the notes where Megan pointed.
“Oh, shit. Dang it, I’m sorry. Too early in the morning.”
Kyle, who by this time was feeling much better, laughed at his comment. “What’s going on?” she inquired.
“You think she’s CAH?” Megan inquired of Jason.
“I think so. I’ve only seen two cases of it in my career and neither one was this involved. But if we do an ultrasound, I think that it will confirm what you suspect.”
“So tell me!” Kyle insisted. The teen was tired of the doctors speaking between themselves about her without any explanation.
Megan began explaining her hypothesis to Kyle. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I think that Dr. Jones is just as shocked as I am. We think that you have a condition called Congenital Adrenal Hyperplasia. It means that your body is unable to make certain hormones. When you were born, you had what we call ambiguous genitalia. The clitoris gets enlarged until it almost looks like the penis of a boy.”
Whoa, this is getting good, thought Kyle as she listened intently to her Mom’s explanation.
“In your case, Dr. Nicosa, who delivered you, noticed that you had this issue and wanted to call a specialist. Your Dad objected and threatened the doctor. Then he told the doctor to sew up a hole that was down in the area. That hole was your vaginal opening, we think.”
“Does that mean I’m really a girl?” Kyle asked curiously.
“If what we think is confirmed through an ultrasound, then yes you are.”
“Now, here’s what I think is happening right now, and Jason, correct me if I’m wrong here, or if you think otherwise. Kyle, when we started you on HRT, we thought that you were a boy and Dr. Snyder gave you the normal estrogen dose to transition you from boy to girl. In your case, though, the estrogen just jump started everything. Your ovaries and other hormone producing glands woke up and started to do their job. What happens once a month, roughly, in a woman when everything is working normally?”
“She has a monthly period. And all of the waste cells slough off from the uterus and come out through the vaginal opening. Wait a minute, I’m starting my periods?” This was almost too much to comprehend. I’m really a girl, and now I’m having my period, she thought with a bit of alarm.
“There’s only one problem, besides just the cramping that you’re having. We may have to back off your estrogen dose. But your big problem is, where is your vaginal opening?”
Kyle looked down at herself.
“Sewn up?”
“Yes, so how are you going to get rid of the waste products from your period?”
“Uh-oh. That’s a problem.”
“No kidding. If you don’t have an opening, a place for the waste to go, then it builds up and bingo, one humongous infection develops.”
“Ughhh. Not good.”
Megan looked up at her counterpart who was much better versed in the process. “Am I explaining this right?”
“Better than I could. You’re a woman, after all”, the OB-GYN doctor smiling.
Both women booed the doctor, who waited on the laughter to die down. Then he explained to Kyle, “We’re going to do an ultrasound to see if we can confirm what we’re thinking. If it’s true, then what we expect to find are your two ovaries, your vagina, your fallopian tubes, and everything else that we would expect see in a female. However, due to the condition, yours will probably be small – like someone half your age. The estrogen that you take, once we get your dosage adjusted, will allow everything to catch up, and hopefully, I’d say there’s a better than even chance you can have children.”
“Oh, my God”, Kyle whispered.
Jones turned to both women and said, “I’ll see if there’s a tech available right now, and if there is, we’ll do it right now. Can you get up OK?”
“Sure.” The teen’s pains had subsided and she was just mainly tired and sleepy in spite of all the excitement and news.
Jason started to leave the room, explaining, “Let me make a couple of calls and we’ll see where we go from here. If not now, we should be able to do it later today.”
After he left the room, Megan examined Kyle’s face closely. Suddenly, tears began to roll down the face of the teen and she began sobbing. Megan went over to hold her daughter and talk to her.
“Honey, what are you thinking?”
“Mom, I can’t believe it, I really am a girl. I mean, I grew up my whole life with that stupid Dad of mine trying to tell me that I was a boy, when the whole thing was a lie. He wanted me to be a boy, and he made the doctor make me into a boy. That son of a bitch!” Stopping momentarily, her tears stopped, then abruptly restarted as she sobbed again, “I might be able to have kids and to be pregnant and be a real Mom. God!”
Megan didn’t like the language in some of her outburst, but she wasn’t going to stop it. It was good for Kyle to get these feelings out while she could. At least Kyle won’t grow up with the stigma of being transgender like me, Megan reflected.
After a few minutes, Jones came back in the room and announced, “By some miracle, we have an ultrasound tech and she’s free. Let’s go on down there.”
Turning to Kyle, he asked, “You feel like walking?”
“I do now. Not during those cramps.”
“I understand.”
Turning to Megan, he asked, “You know where outpatient imaging is?”
She answered nodding her head, “Been there, done that.”
“OK, I’ll see you down there in a few minutes.”
Although stiff from having been in pain, Kyle got up from the bed with relative ease. It was close to 3:30 a.m. by this time, and the lack of sleep and the dramatic news was catching up with her. Yawning aloud, Megan said, “Sleepy, hun?”
“Yeah!”
“Well outpatient imaging involves walking to an elevator down the hall, then down two floors. It’s basically on the same level where my parking space is.”
“In other words, journey to the center of the earth.”
“You’re funny!”
Within a few minutes, they were there. As promised, Dr. Jones and the ultrasound technician, Casey Sturgeon, were waiting for them.
The four of them walked into a small room just off the reception area within Outpatient Imaging. There was an ultrasound machine there, along with a large hi-definition color television.
Casey said, “I thought it might be easier in here, since the screen’s big enough for all of you to be able to see it. OK, Kyle, Dr. Jones has already told me what he needs, so I just need for you to lay down here on the bed. Then I’ll run a probe over your abdominal area so that we can take a look at everything. Now, the jelly that I use with the probe is kind of cold, so here are some blankets that I’ve heated to help it from being so cold.”
Kyle hopped onto the bed and laid down. Casey grabbed some pre-warmed blankets and her lubricating jelly, along with the ultrasound probe. Within a couple of minutes, they were all examining Kyle’s abdominal area.
As Megan and Dr. Jones expected, Kyle was most certainly a girl. Her ovaries, uterus, and vaginal area showed up with amazing clarity. The teen was spellbound at the sight of her internal organs.
After several minutes of ultrasound examination, Jason Jones had enough information to guide Megan and Kyle. He told Casey to stop looking, that he had enough information. Casey began to help clean Kyle of the lubricating jelly used during the procedure, and as soon as she was finished, helped Kyle up. After Casey left the room, Dr. Jones summarized everything for Megan and Kyle.
“Well, that just about wraps that up. I think I know where to guide you from here. Kyle, you need to have your vagina opened up and reconfigured so that you can appear and perform as a normal woman. The urethra will need to be re-routed to its normal location. That’s not something that we do here, nor are any of the surgeons here are qualified to perform such a specialized surgery. I would recommend that you go across the country to a surgeon that I know and it fixed. I can go ahead and at least get the vagina opened so that you won’t get poisoned. And I can do it in such a way that it won’t mess up your corrective surgery later.”
Megan asked, “When can we schedule this?”
“Early next week. Call my office and I’ll leave some notes for them. In the meantime, I’ll prescribe some medicine for you that will help with the cramping. Welcome to the world of women, Kyle!”
Both women smiled at this last comment.
While Kyle had no more pain the rest of the evening, she had a repeat the next evening, but the medication helped. Surgery was scheduled for the following Wednesday to re-open her vagina. This was fortunate for Kyle, for by that time, by-products had settled in the vaginal canal. Much longer, and an internal infection would have started. Antibiotics were prescribed, and Kyle was able to fight off the infection quickly. Kyle would need to wear a sanitary pad for several weeks until all of the waste had been captured and her vaginal area returned to normal.
Arrangements were made to have permanent corrective surgery done during Kyle’s fall break from school, just three months away. It would involve flying across the country, something that Megan had done many times, but it would be something new for Kyle.
CHAPTER 18
Late July, 2008 - Megan and Kyle’s townhouse
It was the eve of the hearing to give permanent custody of Kyle to Megan. In spite of assurances from Amy West, the two women were still nervous. With the revelation of Kyle’s true gender, she wanted to change her name, as well. Amy had helped them with the latter request, as well. Kyle and Megan were conversing, when Megan’s cell phone rang. It was a little after nine in the evening.
“Hi, Susie!”
“Hi, lady. Sorry I had to stand you up for our run tonight.”
“Oh, I got your text before I arrived at the park. It just meant that Kyle and I went on the run by ourselves. So, if I may ask, what was this big ‘meeting’ that you had.”
“Well, I could lie, but I won’t. Brad Tankersly asked me to dinner.”
“THE Brad Tankersly? The vice-mayor?”
“That’s the one. He was looking for a new investment advisor, and one of his friends is a long-time client of mine. He invited me to dinner, said it was easier to talk than in some sterile office.”
“I kind of agree. How did it go? I mean, you’re young, single, available…”
“And you’re mildly desperate for me to get hooked up, I gather.”
“Mayyyybeeee.”
“OK. He is single and available, too. He asked me out again, just for fun. We’re going to the opera next Friday night.”
“All right!! Worthy catch, my lady.”
“I AM looking forward to it. He’s one of the easiest people to talk to that I’ve ever met. He just seems like a lot of fun.”
“Seriously, good for you.”
Susie changed demeanor from playful to serious. “I didn’t call to tell you about my evening. How are you and your daughter doing?”
“Well, she’s OK. Just a little nervous. So am I. We both want this to be permanent, but until the judge gives his OK, it’s always subject to change.”
“Didn’t you tell me that she’s going to get her name changed, too?”
“She sure is. Amy West took care of getting it on the same docket. The same judge can rule on both, so it just takes care of both things at once.”
“So what it’s going to be? Didn’t she say ‘Lara’ last time we ran together?” Actually, Susie was stretching the truth. Kyle had called Susie the day before to ask about something related to the name change. Kyle wanted to become ‘Lara Phillips’ instead of ‘Lara Britton’ and she sought Susie’s opinion. Kyle was afraid that Megan might react badly, but Susie quickly corrected her and told her that Megan would be honored, in her opinion.
“It’ll be Lara if the judge approves. He shouldn’t have any problem, other than having to read through the medical material to find out why we need to change an “M” to an “F””.
“Well, I just wanted to make sure that you and ‘Lara’ are OK. I’ve been thinking about you.”
“More than Mr. Tankersly?”
“Stop. Just stop. We have a date. We’ll see how this goes. I really wouldn’t mind having a boyfriend, though.”
“Me, too, but right now, I have to think about a daughter.”
“You do that. Good luck tomorrow. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye, Susie.”
When she hung up, Megan looked back toward the young woman seated across from her. From her facial expression, Megan could tell that Kyle just wanted it over with. “Mom, I’ll be so glad when tomorrow’s over”, she admitted. Still slightly sore from the surgery to open her vagina, she grimaced as she got up from the couch where she was seated.
“I know, sweetheart. I can’t wait, either.”
After a fitful night, the two headed downtown to the County Court House. Unlike the temporary custody hearing in the hospital, this one was more formal and was held in a “real courtroom”. The case was the first on the docket, so they promptly arrived at 8:30 for their 9:00 hearing. They were dressed in their best clothes, looking more like an executive and her assistant than a Mom and her daughter.
Megan and Kyle munched on a protein bar outside the courtroom, then disposed of the wrappers. The women still brought water with them, hiding them in their purses. About 8:45, they entered the still-empty courtroom to await Amy, the judge, the court reporter, and the bailiff.
At 8:55, Amy West arrived and greeted Megan and Kyle warmly. “This is no big deal”, she assured them. “The judge will just look over the paperwork and ask if there are any objections, according to the social worker. “ Then he’ll say, “I so order that Megan Phillips be granted permanent custody of Lara Britton until she is of the age of majority.” Amy was careful to use Kyle’s “new” name, not wanting to offend the teen.
Just a few seconds later, the bailiff entered from a side door and announced, “Court is now in session, The Honorable Terrance Jenkins presiding, all rise.”
Amy, Megan, and Kyle all stood, along with several others who had arrived with later items on the docket.
Judge Jenkins then said, “I have two items first this morning, first making the custody of Kyle Britton by Megan Phillips permanent. Anyone have a reason why this shouldn’t occur?”
The judge waited a few seconds, then continued, “So ordered.” Obviously, the judge didn’t bother with the formalities, Megan thought. Yay, one down.
“The second item concerns a change of name and gender for Kyle Britton. I’m curious for the reason behind the gender change. The petitioner is pretty young for having surgery, right?”
Amy answered the judge. “Your Honor, it was discovered a couple of weeks ago that there was a mistake made in listing the subject as male on her birth certificate. You have information regarding the discovery of female organs and anatomy by the hospital two weeks ago, and the subsequent determination that she is indeed female. “
“I have to admit that I scanned it instead of reading it.” Looking over the paperwork, Jenkins continued, “This is pretty fascinating. OK, I don’t see any problem with that. Regarding the name change, is the subject here?”
“I am, Your Honor”, Kyle shyly answered.
“You have petitioned to change your name from Kyle Andrew Britton to Lara Ann Britton. Is that still your wish?”
“Your Honor, the Lara Ann part is correct, however, I would like my last name to be Phillips, like my mom.”
The last comment totally caught Megan off guard, and she began to shake as the news penetrated.
“OK, we can change the last part. The name change of the petitioner from Kyle Andrew Britton to Lara Ann Phillips is so ordered. Thank you ladies for being on time and having everything ready.”
Judge Jenkins turned to his clerk and said, “Next case, please” as Amy, Megan, and the now-Lara exited the courtroom.
Once outside in the hallway, they thanked Amy and she left to return to the hospital. After she was out of earshot, Megan asked Lara, “You didn’t warn me! I had no idea that you wanted to share my last name. I mean, you aren’t related to me by birth.”
“But you’re my Mom, and I should have the same last name as you. Besides, I’ve become a new person and what better way is there to make a clean break than to change my whole name?”
Megan hugged Lara tightly. Then she smiled and said, “Let’s get out of here. Would you like some coffee, Miss Phillips?”
“I wouldn’t mind if I do, Doctor Phillips.”
The two women giggled at each other.
The Café Especial, a coffee shop specializing in fresh-ground African coffees, was just around the corner.
Once inside, the two women were greeted by the owner, a Mexican immigrant woman in her forties with a surprisingly loud, booming voice. Speaking to Megan, she asked from across the room, “What I can get you and your daughter?” While not the first time that the phrase was used for Megan and Lara, it warmed Megan all the same. Now it was official – they were mother and daughter, maybe not in blood, but legally nonetheless.
“I think have an Ethiopian Yirgacheffe with a side of cream, please.”
Lara gave Megan a quizzical look. She had never had a specialty coffee before. Even though Megan had fixed herself some coffee in the townhouse since moving in with her, Lara didn’t know anything beyond Folger’s, Maxwell House, and Yuban.
“Um, I’ll have the same, please.”
Within a few minutes, both were seated at a table looking over the downtown street. After Megan took a sip, Lara took a sip, then smiled and proclaimed, “Mmm. No wonder you like this stuff. Thank you, Mom!”
Before Megan could respond, she quickly added, “Mom, thank you for adopting me. I could have been the only teen in a houseful of screaming little kids. And I could have died if my cramps hadn’t been diagnosed. I mean, you’re not my birth mom, but you’ve given me everything that I’ve needed. Plus, you just love me. I’m just so, so lucky to have you.” The teen squeezed her mother’s hand tightly as their arms extended across the table.
“Lara, like I told you right after you moved in with me, this is God at work. You know, He fills multiple holes with one sweep of His hand. We’ve both benefitted.”
Lara had begun attending church with her mother not long after she moved in. She didn’t have any opposition to it. Like many her age, she just didn’t have any exposure. But when she started to meet up with members of the church’s youth group, she found another group that she could identify with, a place where she could feel safe to express herself. While she didn’t understand everything that they talked about, she was starting to understand. What her mother said made sense.
Megan continued, looking directly into Lara’s eyes with a serious expression. “You’ve been a blessing to me. I’ve always wanted to be a Mom, but I knew that adopting a baby would be the wrong thing to do. I work too many hours. I was always afraid of adopting an older child, not knowing if they could accept me when they found out the truth about me. And a teen? That was even worse. Could I identify with him or her? Could I discipline them? But when you came along, it was different. You needed someone who could understand you, someone who not only understood having to live two lives, but had actually lived two lives. For you and me, it’s been a ‘God thing’.”
Finally she paused after pouring out her emotions. Her expression changed to one of love and understanding and she finished with “I love you, Lara.”
Lara reciprocated by looking up at Megan. “I love you, too, Mom.”
CHAPTER 19
Late August, 2008 – the first day of Lara’s sophomore year in high school
It was the first day of Lara’s sophomore year in high school. Unlike the past years, though, she went all out with her femininity. She had picked out a short-sleeve dress and paired it with all the accessories befitting a young high school girl. Megan had taken her to the salon, and Lara had a cut that emphasized the fullness of her hair. She had also grown two inches, and at five feet, eight inches, stood just an inch shorter than her mother.
An eye test showed that she was becoming nearsighted, and like her mother, disdained the idea of inserting contacts into her eyes. Accordingly, Lara obtained her first pair of glasses. When Megan and Lara picked them up, though, they were shocked when Lara put them on for the first time. Except for the teen’s lighter skin tone, the pair looked astonishingly like biological mother and daughter.
Between the glasses, the haircut, the hormones that had given her feminine development, and her two inch increase in height, she bore only a slight resemblance to ‘Kyle’ from the previous year. As a result, Lara half-expected that few would recognize her.
Megan had taken both Lara and Jessica to school and dropped them off in the driveway just outside. Upon walking in, Lara called to one of her classmates, Kelli Parsons. Kelli immediately came over and said, “Hi, Jessie”, but then paused as she looked at Lara. Lara sensed that Kelli didn’t recognize her, so she said, “Kelli, I’m Kyle, but it’s Lara now. I changed my name.”
“Oh, my God, you look SO pretty now!” Kelli’s eyes flew open as she finally recognized Lara. Kelli, Lara, and Jessie made a threesome as they wandered toward their first class.
‘Kyle’ had many female friends, but as Lara, the number of young women pursuing her for friendship increased markedly. She was fully confident of herself, knowing that who she was in her mind matched with who she was physically.
Two weeks later, Lara enjoyed her first date with a young man, something that hadn’t occurred before due to her appearance of being androgynous. After a few more dates, there was the inevitable kiss outside the entrance to the Phillips townhouse. At last, Lara felt that she had “arrived” and could finally have dreams of a husband, a family, and a house.
CHAPTER 20
Late October, 2008
Susie Templeton pushed her executive chair back from her desk and leaned back, grabbing her shoulder length hair and fluffing it. Sighing loudly, she returned to the upright position. It was late in the afternoon, and now that things were slowing down, she could afford to let her private thoughts into the forefront of her mind.
It had been only two short months since she had met Brad Tankersly. But the time period had been a flurry of activity with him. As well as numerous dates, they had been to church together, helped an elderly neighbor of Brad’s perform interior painting on her home, and even made a two hour trip to visit Brad’s ailing mother. It seemed to be an answer to Susie’s prayer.
Brad had the same feelings for the investment advisor. After a short engagement years earlier that had failed, the forty year old was intrigued by Susie. There were so many facets to her, he continuously realized. There was the fiercely competitive runner, the smart and cunning investment advisor, and the loving, caring woman who didn’t mind sitting with his mother and holding her hand as she recovered from a serious illness. To say that he was in love with her was an understatement.
Thanks to Susie’s financial resources, she was able to have Brad thoroughly investigated by a former FBI agent turned snoop. He was totally clean, ‘squeaky clean’ as the investigator concluded. This was a relief and a reassurance. Susie didn’t want any lying or a hidden past that would catch up with him. She wanted an old-fashioned marriage where commitment was at the forefront.
Fortunately, as well, was the fact that both came from similar backgrounds when it came to religion. Brad had begun to worship God as an athlete in high school through Fellowship of Christian Athletes. He had maintained the faith that he found there, with only a brief interruption when his first serious relationship fell apart.
At the same time as Susie was leaning back in her chair, Brad was at the jewelry store picking an engagement ring. He had paid close attention to Susie’s tastes in jewelry, so he felt comfortable in finding something that she would like.
Besides being vice-mayor of the city, Brad was the founder of a software company whose products were in high demand. Six months earlier, he sold his company for an amount in the mid eight digits, leaving him with adequate financial resources to support a very luxurious lifestyle. This left him available to pursue virtually anything that he wanted. He relished in the give and take world of government and the very part-time role as vice-mayor left him hungry for more. He truly wanted to further his own conservative viewpoints in a world “going off the tracks”.
At this moment, though, his thoughts centered on a three-carat diamond solitaire that seemed appropriate for the woman that he wanted to be his wife forever. Completing the purchase, he confidently placed the box in his suit coat pocket. Brad realized that dinner was just an hour away, so there wouldn’t be time to arrange for any alternative to the normal “proposal with ring box” method of asking for her hand. But confident that she would say yes, he decided that the traditional way would be more correct than any other method.
The hour went by quickly. Barrett’s Restaurant was a twenty five minute drive, made even longer by a wreck on the highway connecting downtown to the area where Brad lived. By the time that he parked his Mercedes and made his way to the top of the forty-story building where Barrett’s was located, he was almost late.
Fortunately, Brad made it to the top first, with Susie on the very next elevator to open.
Greeting each other with a kiss that expressed their love but not too overly affectionate for the public, the two proceeded inside. The two made an attractive couple, with Susie’s slender five-feet six inch frame compared to Brad’s football influenced six feet height and broad build.
The two were seated promptly, and Brad had been careful to obtain a window table where the two could admire looking over the city. The sun was beginning to set, and a combination of the lights of the city in combination with the coming darkness made for a beautiful setting.
The two made small talk as they waited to order, but after ordering, the mood turned more serious. The two talked about a family, about what they wanted eventually from life, and where they wanted to live. Fortunately, for most of the questions, the two had very similar views. Susie made up her mind – she wouldn’t mind if this were “the one”. She would have to call Megan as soon as she arrived home after the date. Megan will be amazed at how well that I’ve analyzed this situation, she decided.
But after the conversation began to wane, and just before the food arrived, Brad told her how much that she meant to him, that she had been the very best thing that happened to him in a long time. He also told her that he looked forward to pursing the next course of his life in tandem with her.
Carefully, he pulled the ring box from his suit coat pocket and asked, “In fact, I would like you to be with me in every phase of my life from now on. Susie Templeton, would you marry me?”
The question didn’t register in Susie’s mind for a minute. For a moment, it seemed an impossibility for this to happen, more like a dream. One of the fleeting thoughts that she had was “OK, this is a dream. You can wake up now, Susie.” But as she stared at the ring, she realized just how very serious that Brad was, and finally realized that this was “the question”. A single teardrop ran down her cheek as she whispered, “Yes!”
Brad carefully placed the ring on her finger. It turned out to be an almost perfect fit, as Brad had taken one of her rings a week earlier and traced the inside of it onto a small piece of paper.
Susie stared at the ring, realizing that at some time in the near future, she would be Mrs. Brad Tankersly. There could be children, a house, and a husband, all of things that she had dreamed of having when she was a young girl. She smiled at Brad as she relished in his love and attention.
CHAPTER 21
December, 2008 - midway through Lara’s high school sophomore year
During her short fall break in October, Lara and Megan had flown across the country to a prestigious surgeon who corrected what Peter Nicosa (at Jerry Britton’s insistence) had created. All of the signs of her Congenital Adrenal Hyperplasia were now gone except for some minor scarring.
Thanks to the hormones, she was catching up in other areas as well. The drugs had helped to provide her with developing curves virtually identical with those of her classmates.
Megan made sure that Lara’s sixteenth birthday was a happy one by hosting a party for her and her friends at a local indoor amusement facility. The relatively new mother also made sure that her daughter enjoyed a shopping trip with her friends courtesy of a gift card to a local mall.
For Lara, though, the best gift was enrollment in a local driving school. She was beginning to see her older classmates obtain their driver licenses and each time that Megan had to take her somewhere further fanned her desire for the freedom to drive.
But besides driving school, there was one more important thing in Lara’s life – Susie’s wedding. Susie, Megan, Lara, and two other women met at a local bridal shop so that Susie could pick out her wedding dress and obtain the dresses for her maid of honor (Megan) and bridesmaids (of which Lara was one).
Lara was the youngest of the women in the wedding party. But this didn’t bother her. Since she had never been around a bridal shop to see the merchandise and experience what happened there, it was fascinating. It was also a preview of what would be happening later in the year (she hoped) when the prom would be taking place at her school and she and Megan would have to go shopping for a prom dress.
For now, though, Lara giggled as Susie oohed and aahed her way through the shop’s selection. Finally finding something to her liking, she stopped and pulled the dress completely out of the rack. Everyone approved, but now it was time for the real test – trying on the dress.
The dress was an A-line dress with long sleeves, a covered back, and a high neck. It had a short train, which Megan obligingly picked up and arranged behind Susie. The mere sight of a wedding dress was mesmerizing to Lara as she had never before attended or been involved with a wedding.
The decision was made to buy it, and then it was time to move on to the maid of honor and bridesmaid dresses. After careful consideration of all of the women, it was decided that burgundy would be the color. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything that was visually appealing. At one point, Lara whispered to her mother, “These things are all ugly! Why do they have to make them that way?” Megan dutifully explained that the bride should be the point of attention on a wedding day, and that the dresses are made to not detract from the bride. “OK. I’m glad prom dresses look better than this” the teen said disgustedly. But in the end, everyone was satisfied, and one more thing on a long list for Susie was completed.
Later that day
After shopping for Susie’s wedding dress, Megan went by and picked up Jessie, then dropped off the two girls at the mall.
Jessie’s mother had charged her with finding a dress so that she could attend a holiday party with her parents. Begrudgingly, Jessie had agreed, but only if she could shop for it with Lara.
At five foot six, Jessie was two inches shorter than her best friend. But in contrast with Lara’s long brunette hair, Jessie wore a very short bob that was any color but natural. With her mother’s permission, Jessie began to dye her hair in a different color almost every month, beginning a year earlier. This became part of her identity, so “Rainbow Hair” around school instantly referred to Jessie.
Jessie’s parents worked an inordinate number of hours in their respective careers, thus leaving Jessica alone for extended periods. She was left on her to establish her own identity and make her own decisions, which she did with gladness. But it also left her feeling empty and unloved at times. There were times that she needed more than her friends to cope with life. Many nights, when her parents did arrive home, they had little energy left to give to Jessie.
Jessica liked to dress in the latest styles, and thanks to a generous allowance, did so most days. This didn’t mean that Jessica was a style maven interested in little else. Like her parents, Jessica was a driven perfectionist and as a result, excelled in her classes. Learning did not come naturally for her – she had to study and memorize a great deal more than Lara, who was apparently academically gifted. Her hard work paid off with good grades, and she was determined to earn a scholarship to an Ivy League school, thus realizing her and her parents’ dream.
On the surface, everything was looking rosy for Jessica. But she had begun to develop a sense of disdain toward her body. Her mother had a larger frame and had become quite overweight. Jessie was fearful that she would develop the same larger hips and thighs as her mother had.
Jessie and Lara shopped at three stores before finding a dress that both liked. After choosing a size 5, Jessie’s normal size, the two girls entered a fitting room and Jessie began changing. But as she tried it on, it became apparent that it was too tight. The area around the hips and thighs were especially too tight. Lara quickly went back to the racks and found a size 7. But after returning to the fitting room, Lara found her friend in tears. Lara didn’t know of Jessie’s insecurities when it came to her body.
In the dressing room, through her tears, Jessie began to reveal a lot of her inner self that she hadn’t previously shown to her friend in spite of being best friends. But there was little that Lara could say. On an earlier occasion, Jessie showed a hatred of religion and instead looked to material goods for security. But Lara did her best to comfort her friend, and encouraged her to lose the weight through exercise and only secondarily through diet.
Fortunately, once Lara calmed Jessica, the size 7 dress fit perfectly. Even though she was crushed by having to go up a size, the party was in a week, not enough time to lose enough weight to fit into the size 5 even if she starved herself.
Lara phoned her mother, who came to the mall and picked them up. Megan let Lara drive the X3 in spite of the holiday traffic, but the young woman handled driving in congested areas with aplomb.
After arriving home, Jessie immediately went to her scale and found that she had indeed gained about ten pounds. Looking at herself in the mirror, she frowned as she squeezed her belly, her hips, and her thighs. There was only one solution – to ask for a treadmill and a home gym. Her mother, who was on yet another diet in a vain attempt to lose her extra poundage, wholeheartedly agreed. Bet she’ll never use it, though, Jessica told herself. But at least I can use it and I will, she thought.
Within a week, both the treadmill and home gym were delivered. Jessica spent a great deal of time using both. Lara knew that her friend was spending a lot of time in an attempt to lose weight, but she no idea how much more time that Jessie was spending on the machines when the two weren’t together.
Since Jessie was spending so much time in exercise, she was able to lose the “extra” weight quickly. Within six weeks, Jessie was back to the weight where she could once again buy the size 5’s that she normally wore. But something had been lit within her. If she control her weight even more, she could be smaller still and be more beautiful. She envisioned being model-thin and the envy of her classmates. It wasn’t something that Jessie shared with Lara, nor was it something that she wanted to share. Inwardly, Jessica knew that continuing to exercise so much and eat less could result in a downward spiral. But like many young women, she told herself, it’s not going to happen to me. I’ll just lose a bit more and I’ll be fine, she thought.
Mid-February, 2009 - A mall trip
To celebrate her weight loss, Jessie invited Lara to go with her to the mall. She couldn’t wait to show her best friend that she could once again fit into a size 5. Of course, she had to be careful to not share the excessive amount of time that Jessie was spending on her treadmill and with the home gym. There’s no reason for Lara to worry about me, she told herself.
The girl had finally achieved her goal of surviving on seven hundred calories per day. That meant two pounds per week, a sustainable loss in her mind.
But earlier that week, she noticed some telltale signs of problems. There was a lot more hair than usual left on the brush after brushing her hair. And she hadn’t menstruated in well over a month. In her mind, though, these were minor issues. It will be so worth it to be model thin, she told herself.
Carly White, Jessica’s mother, took the girls to the mall and dropped them off, telling them that she would return in three hours.
Jessica and Lara took full advantage, and Jessica tried on every size 5 that she encountered. She fit into all of them without fail. In fact, some of them were loose.
But the lack of calorie intake on Jessie’s part was taking more of a toll than she realized. After an hour and a half, she told Lara that she was tired and needed to rest. This seemed a little odd to Lara, never having witnessed this in all of the years of their friendship. Jess complained about not sleeping well during the previous few nights.
When Lara asked her friend if she was hungry and needed a snack, she quickly insisted, “No! I’m fine!” Combining the tiredness and not wanting to eat sent up a warning flag to Lara, who vowed to watch her friend for signs of anorexia. Fortunately, their school had set up seminars for the girls warning them of the consequences of extraordinary weight loss. Lara decided that it wasn’t worth a confrontation, so she excused Jessie and accepted her explanation. But later, Lara would find out later that today would mark the first signs of a battle that her friend would fight for the rest of her life.
CHAPTER 21
March, 2009 - Spring break
Lara was excelling academically. She had many friends, and like many teens, her world revolved around them. But Lara didn’t completely neglect her mother. In fact, the two grew closer as the teenager faced the usual issues in a teen’s life. Fortunately, there were frank and open discussions about a lot of these. Unfortunately, one of Megan’s worst faults was her insistence that she was right. Sometimes, she was guilty of not listening closely to her daughter. In those cases, loud arguments would erupt between the two, but after a bit, the two would realize what the other was trying to communicate. Often times, this led to hugs between the two after each had finished venting. On the whole, Lara and Megan were not much different than any other mother and daughter.
Megan received an invitation to speak at a psychiatric conference in San Francisco. Fortunately, the date fell exactly in the middle of Lara’s spring break. The group asked Megan to speak on the subject of how to determine if a transgender person should or should not transition, and the timing of such a transition. When Megan brought it up to Lara, the teen was excited. It would mean a trip to a part of the country where she had never been. Megan also offered to a take a couple days of vacation afterward to play tourist.
It took a couple of shopping trips for the women to find new clothes to take. The main thing for both to have was business clothing for the conference. Megan bought a new skirt suit and Lara was fortunate enough to find separates that together also formed a suit. It was imperative to pack as light as possible and yet have enough clothes, shoes, and accessories to accommodate both a business trip and pleasure trip all in one. After much packing and re-packing, the two were finally able to get their suitcases and carry-ons within the limits.
Fortunately, everything from the flight to the rental car to the hotel were flawless. The evening that they arrived, Megan practiced her speech while Lara listened to music on her phone. The next morning, both women were able to get up and get ready almost at the same time thanks to dual sinks in the hotel’s bathroom.
The hotel also served as the venue for the conference, so Megan and Lara only had to make a trip downstairs to register.
At the registration desk for the conference, the clerk, a plump, matronly lady in her sixties began to strike up a conversation with them.
“You sure have a beautiful daughter. She looks just like you.”
“Thank you”, Megan smiled.
“You sure look young to have a daughter that age.”
Still smiling, Megan answered “I learned a lot during my freshman year at college.”
“Ohhh. Well, thank you”, the clerk answered as she handed Megan and Lara their badges for the conference. The older woman smiled and looked on, obviously thinking that Megan birthed Lara as a single mother in her first year of college.
As they walked away, Lara whispered between her giggling at Megan, saying, “Why did you tell that woman that? She thinks that you got pregnant with me during your freshman year!”
“May God forgive me. I do like to have a little fun with the facts sometimes. Let’s walk over here for a second.”
Megan led Lara over to the edge of the lobby where they were walking and suddenly stopped, facing Lara. The teen thought to herself, “What now, Mom?” Megan began to speak to her daughter in a quiet, serious tone.
“One of my biggest faults, honey, is the fact that I was born male. I’ve felt less than a woman because I’ve not had the joy of being pregnant, the pain of birth, and the excitement of having my child being handed to me. That’s one of the reasons that you’re so special to me. I not only love you, but you’ve filled a special place in my life and my heart. Even though I’ve only been part of your life for less than a year, it’s like I’ve always had you. With my mind, I can imagine what you were like as an infant, a toddler, a young girl, and then now.” Megan stopped because her eyes began to mist because of the emotion that she felt. Struggling to continue, she said “”God has filled a hole in my heart.” The psychiatrist reached into her purse, pulled out a tissue, and carefully dabbed at her eyes to avoid smudging her makeup.
“I understand, Mom. That explains a lot. Thanks for telling me.”
Megan was the first speaker and they arrived a few minutes ahead of her designated time. Outside the hall, several people recognized and greeted her. The two women went in and took seats on the right side of the hall in the front row.
To Lara, this was mildly exciting. She had never really thought of her Mom as a doctor presenting her work and the results of her practice to her colleagues. In a limited sense, she was being allowed in a special ‘club’ where only physicians were normally allowed.
“Pray for me”, Megan quietly whispered to Lara as the introduction to the morning’s sessions were being read. After the introduction, Megan stood and walked confidently to the lectern amid polite applause.
With an air of pride, Megan looked over the audience of psychiatrists and psychologists and began her speech.
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, fellow practitioners. I wanted to speak a short time this morning about something that’s bound to ruffle the feathers of some.”
Here goes, Megan told herself before continuing. “It’s been my observation since beginning my practice almost ten years ago that we don’t do the best job of serving our patients who present to us as transgender and wanting to transition. As a group, we’re far too easy to pass them along for hormone treatment and eventual transition to the opposite gender. I’ve had quite a number of people come to me that turned out to have self-image issues rather than gender issues. In my opinion, this is because we haven’t spent the time necessary to accurately and completely assess them.”
“One of my patients presented himself to me, wondering why hormones along with spending increasing time as a woman, had not made him feel better about himself. In his words, ‘I love the high that hormones create for me, and I feel better until I look in the mirror. Then I wonder what in the world I’m doing. This doesn’t feel right.’ After an extensive interview, it became apparent that the patient really suffered from deep depression caused by a self-image problem. Long-term emotional abuse, along with a childhood where he was relentlessly teased about his feminine traits, led him to believe that maybe he really was a woman. Transition wasn’t going to solve his problem, I told him, until he dealt with the self-image issues that were underneath his desire to change gender. He needed to leave his past behind and create a new self-image based on how he viewed himself.”
“After a period of treatment, he developed a much better self-image and found that he was really much happier as a man. Tests that I performed also showed that he was far too low in his testosterone level, and with a lot of caution, I prescribed small doses of a supplement to gauge its effectiveness in his treatment. Happily, this also helped him. It’s now been almost two years since his treatment ended, and I’m happy to report that he’s now found love and is engaged. He no longer thinks about wanting to be a woman.”
“I had another case where a person who was transitioning from male to female fell into deep despair and attempted suicide. Her first words to me were, ‘Is this all there is to being a woman? I thought that if I went through transition, everything would feel better. I mean, I don’t have any problems like money or drugs, but I still feel bad. I wonder why I ever felt that this would be an improvement.’ It turns out that she had a bad case of what I call “opposite gender envy”. Her previous therapist was an active cheerleader for transitioning persons. Once the patient tried crossdressing and enjoyed a positive experience, there was active encouragement to start the transition process including hormones. After a period of counseling, we determined that she was indeed happier as a woman, but I encouraged her to slow down. Eventually, she ‘went full-time’, but has still not had bottom surgery. I feel that she may very well de-transition at some point because she still struggles with socialization and self-acceptance in her feminine role.”
“Too many of us in this profession who see transgendered individuals don’t dig deep enough to make sure that transition is their answer. We’re so anxious to help the patient go down the path that they think need that we ignore our responsibility to them and to society to make sure that it’s right.”
“It’s amazing to me that we continue these practices. If we’ve done our job, if we’ve done our absolute best at judging the best candidates for transition and have given them the tools to successfully transition, then de-transitioning and/or self-harm should be a small fraction of what it is.”
“My purpose here is not to judge, but to admonish every one of us who deal with transgendered and transsexual persons each day. We need to be more careful and spend a lot more time in getting to know our patients before recommending transition. We need to be more than cheerleaders. As a physician, I take the Hippocratic oath very seriously.”
Megan spent the next fifteen minutes outlining the methods that she used to determine whether a person was merely suffering from an emotional or mental issue, or was truly transsexual.
Much to her surprise, the speech was met with enthusiasm by the crowd present. After more than cursory applause, eight people walked up to her to ask questions. In the background, Lara waited close by for her mother to finish.
“Mom, you did a really great job. I was impressed. It’s no wonder that you have the respect of people at the hospital.”
“Hmm. I know of some who’d like to lynch me. Sometimes I’m a little too blunt. Like some people say, the truth hurts.”
“I just know what some of the nurses told me. They said that I had the best person to take care of me. They were right.” Lara smiled, then gave a quick but affectionate hug to her mother.
Megan smiled back, then looked around and quickly added, “I’m done here ‘til tomorrow. Are you ready to go play tourist?”
“Anytime!”
“Let’s go back to the hotel and change. These aren’t tourist clothes, at least the kind of tourist that I want to be.”
“You think that it’s warm enough for me to wear my shorts?”
Megan felt a chill because their long sleeves felt good, at least in her opinion. The cool air coming off the ocean had mildly chilled the lobby of the convention venue. But a lot of girls that were Lara’s age insisted on wearing shorts even with outside temperatures in the fifties and sixties. With teen fashion dictates in mind, Megan answered, “It’s up to you, honey.”
Within thirty minutes, Megan and Lara made it to their room and had changed. The two looked like a true mother and daughter. Megan had on a long sleeve top with a sweater, jeans, and athletic shoes, while Lara sported a sweatshirt, shorts, and ankle boots.
Using the hotel as their starting point, the two walked around downtown San Francisco, eventually catching a cable car for a trip to Fisherman’s Wharf. As expected, Lara hadn’t been out in the cool, damp air more than thirty minutes when Megan looked over to see her daughter with arms folded across her chest, obviously chilled.
“Cool?” Megan cooed at Lara. She would have laughed, but chose not to tease the teen over her legs, which were bare from her thighs to her ankles.
“Everybody does this at home. I thought that I’d be warm once we started walking.”
“Do we need to go back to the hotel?”
“Nooo”, Lara answered in disgust. Being the ever-brave, daring girl, she didn’t bring up her discomfort the rest of the day.
After lunch, the two found some stores to explore, and by dinner, the exhausted still jet lagged pair was ready for bed by 9. It had been a great day and one that the two would talk about for years to come.
CHAPTER 22
April, 2009 - Jessica’s house
Lara was once again over at her best friend’s house. Lara and Jessica were talking about school, possible boys to date, and everything else that young women of that age talk about.
The pair had just gotten home from school, and as usual, Jessie wanted to change clothes into “something more comfortable”, which in most cases was a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. While her friend changed, Lara sensed something very wrong about her friend when she noticed her very, very thin legs and lack of any definition in her thighs.
Jessica was obviously losing even more weight. Her concern turned to genuine alarm Lara spotted this when she noticed her friend’s caved-in waist. And was that a rib that was beginning to be visible? The psychiatrist’s daughter also noticed that Jessie was not eating normally, that for lunch she had only a nutrition/weight loss shake.
“Are you OK, Jessie” Lara asked.
“Yeah. Everything’s OK.”
“I’m just concerned about you. You’re smaller now than you were a year ago.”
“I know. Isn’t it great? My size 5’s are starting to get really loose. Mom took me to the mall the other day and even a 3 wasn’t too tight on me. It’s so great.”
“Are you really dieting to get skinnier? I mean, you’re OK now.”
“Why are you so concerned about me?”
“Because you know, they talked to us in school a couple of years ago about anorexia. I think I’m starting to see that in you.”
“Because I’m trying to lose weight? I just want to get into those really small sizes like the models wear.”
“You said you had a salad for dinner last night. And I know you didn’t have anything for breakfast except one of those hundred calorie bars. Then you had just one of those nutrition shakes for lunch.”
“I’m trying to keep it down below 1200 calories. Y’know, maybe I can fit in a size 1 or a 3 now. I should see if I can, I could model then.” Jessie was of course lying to keep from alarming Lara. In reality, she tried to keep her calorie intake down to seven hundred.
“Jessie, you’re playing with fire! You can’t keep on doing this. When was your last period?”
“I don’t have ‘em any more. That’s one more thing about losing. You can get rid of that stupid period stuff.”
“That’s not stupid stuff! You’re malnourished. Your body has shut off your monthly cycle because it thinks that you’re starving to death.”
“You’re just overreacting as usual. I’ll be OK. Hey, have you started shopping for your prom dress yet?”
“Don’t change the subject. How much weight have you lost since before Christmas?”
“Just twenty pounds. I’m just ten pounds less than I used to be.”
“And how much are you exercising, girl?”
“I only run thirty minutes a night on the treadmill.” That statement was a lie, too. She was on it at every opportunity, and was doing other exercises as well using the home gym, plus exercise videos. Between the exercises, her normal metabolism, and eating so little, Jessie was running a deficit of eight hundred calories per day. This was enough to cause her to lose a pound every five days.
“Promise, promise, promise me that you’ll stop losing weight. I don’t want my best friend to be anorexic.”
“Promise. I won’t.” But the cycle of losing weight and feeling good about herself had become too enticing to the teen.
CHAPTER 24
Late April, 2009 – two days before Susie’s wedding
Susie and Megan met late on a Wednesday afternoon at an upscale restaurant that they frequented on special occasions. It was a bittersweet occasion. Even though Susie and Brad had decided to make their home in the city, the two realized that the wedding represented a serious turn in their friendship. No longer would they be “two single girls” against the world.
With the adrenaline evident in her voice, Susie said, “Can you believe it? Almost eighteen years. Yikes, we’ve known each other half our lives, almost.”
“I know. It doesn’t seem possible,” Megan added pensively.
Sensing her friend’s mood, Susie tried to cheer up the psychiatrist.
“We can still go running. And shopping. And going out to eat every so often.”
“Susie, I’m not trying to be mean here, but think about it. You and Brad want to have children as soon as possible. And you’re going to live out in the suburbs. You won’t want to come back into the city just for a run with me.”
“Try me. And as far as children, I can keep running ‘til I’m in my seventh month or so. Some women are able to do it until their ninth month.”
“And how is Brad going to keep busy while you’re off running around with me? Is it even fair for you as a new wife to do that?
Susie had been here before, Megan trying to be the realist, but sometimes in a serious, almost depressing way.
“Look, you make it sound like that I’m moving across the country and we’ll never see each other again. Nothing can be further from the truth, Doctor Phillips!”
“But you’re trying to make it sound like that nothing is going to change. If I come over to your house, I’m going to be a ‘third wheel’”.
“So what?”
Megan paused and reflected on the conversation. She looked at Susie with sadness and said, “I’m sorry. I did make it sound like I’d never see you again.”
“It’s OK. Megan Phillips, we’re BFF’s. For us, it’s more than just words. Look what we’ve been through together – you being disowned and on your own, my parents’ death, Matt’s death, my battle with the bottle, it goes on and on. We’ve been there for each other. And we will be, forever. You’ll have to look me up when you get to heaven. We’ll have to catch up even then.”
“And why are you so sure you’ll be the one to get there first?”
“I’m going to be the one raising kids from infancy. You got a big head start having a teenager.”
The two women laughed, and Megan forgot about her sadness. It turned out to be just another dinner, although both had accepted that it was a bit different, after all. They continued talking and sharing memories until the restaurant closed.
As they exited the restaurant and proceeded to their cars, Susie followed Megan to her X3 and hugged her tightly.
“I’ll see you and Lara Friday, Megan.”
“We’ll be there. I promise.”
“You better be. I’m not getting married without you and your daughter.”
Then Susie turned to go over to her Infiniti. As a second thought, Megan called out, “I love you!”
“I love you, too, Megan. BFF’s.” With a wave, Susie got into her car as Megan turned to enter the X3. As she saw her friend drive away, Megan locked the doors of the SUV and began to cry. She sensed that something was going to happen and it wasn’t going to be good.
Two days later
It was early morning in Megan and Lara’s townhouse. Megan had finally rationalized her thoughts from Wednesday night and decided that she was just full of emotions from their dinner together. Megan and Lara were in a good mood, but were rushing around, trying to get ready for Susie’s wedding, which was scheduled for three in the afternoon. They were to help with decorating the church and reception hall along with the other bridesmaids, then leave to go to a salon for hair and makeup preparation.
Megan had hung up their identical burgundy dresses in the coat closet adjacent to their front door. Lara, being ready a bit before Megan, decided to check on their dresses to make sure that they were still unruffled. Opening the door, the teen stared at them and shuddered at their sight. Those have to be the ugliest dresses ever, she thought.
Before long, the two women hurried to the church and helped with last minute preparation, then hurriedly made their way to a salon that Megan frequented to have their hair prepped for the big ceremony. Lara opted to have her hair trimmed before it was placed in an elegant upswept style that made her look older than her actual age. Then it was back to the church for the ceremony.
Megan and Lara helped Susie into her dress, and Megan practiced one more time on spreading out the six-foot long train.
Before they knew it, the two women were at the front, Megan as Maid of Honor being closest to where Susie would be standing. The bride’s walk went off without a hitch. Megan admired Brad’s look as Susie approached. Those two are absolutely truly in love, she decided.
Fortunately, the train cooperated with Megan, and she lovingly spread it out, covering a lot of the area on the stairs at the front of the church. The ceremony was brief although it had all of the “essential elements”.
Time went by quickly, and before they knew it, Megan and Lara were back down the aisle following the bride and groom. The Fellowship Hall of the church had been selected for their reception, so it was easy to proceed onto the reception.
Mr. and Mrs. Tankersley cut their cakes and soon, punch and cake was served to the waiting guests. Uproarious laughter was heard by all as the two met as many of their guests as possible. But then came a moment that involved just the women of the wedding party.
Megan and Lara along with other bridesmaids were ready to catch the bouquet. The women had marveled at how the wedding had gone off thus far without a hitch. Things were beginning to wind down, and soon, Mr. and Mrs. Brad Tankersly would be on their way to a honeymoon in Barbados.
Susie threw the flowers over her right shoulder and they travelled in a path that took them almost straight to Lara. Catching the bouquet, she laughed heartily as she raised it high in the air as if it were an Olympic medal.
“All of these women who are eligible, and the teenager has to catch it!” Megan laughed as well.
After all the hoopla surrounding this portion of the reception, Susie began to hug her bridesmaids, then finally saved the last and biggest hug for her maid of honor, Megan.
“We’ll keep in touch. I’ll still be able to go running with you sometimes.” Susie was trying to console Megan, who realized with sadness that her best friend was now beginning a new life of her own. Megan had made many other friends thanks to her church attendance, but none were as close as the financial advisor.
“I know. I’m just going to miss you so much, Susie. I love you!”
“As soon as we get back, we’ll get together for a meal. Brad can’t have me around 24/7 now, can he?”
Susie added one more comment almost as an afterthought. “I love you. I’ll see you on the other side.” The latter comment struck Megan as odd, but there were too many things going on for her to react or to think about it.
The two shared a small giggle, and as Brad approached, Susie reached out her hand and took his. It was time to leave the church.
Megan, Lara, and other reception attendees still there hurried over to a small table in the reception hall where packets of bird seed had been placed. After picking up the packets, they went outside to await the couple.
After only a couple of minutes, Susie and Brad came out, Susie carefully walking down the stairs since she was still in her dress. Everyone who had obtained the packets of seed began to throw them in unison. At the bottom of the stairs, Brad’s Triumph TR-6 was waiting. He had planned to take his bride to a local hotel where they would spend the night, then the pair would leave for Barbados the next day.
Megan watched with joy for her friend but sadness for herself as Susie was helped into the small car by her husband. Someone had jokingly suggested that he take his “little car” from the church to the hotel because they didn’t believe that Susie could get her dress into it. But after some twisting and turning, Susie and dress were both safely inside. Brad then hurried around to the other side and got in.
Soon, Brad pulled the small car away from the curb and Megan watched until it was a block from the church. Having driven often in this part of town, Brad was familiar with the traffic light synchronization, and he sped on through two signals away from the church. Reaching a comfortable speed to make the rest of the green lights, the new husband settled back because it would be several blocks until his first turn.
Nearing the intersection that Brad was approaching from the other side, Yolanda Speers was beginning to have a bad reaction to the drugs that she enjoyed at a party earlier in the afternoon. Instead of being able to see clearly, she was quickly losing her vision in a blurry sea of colors. I have to get someplace fast, Yolanda thought, so I can come down off this stuff. Gunning the Suburban, she didn’t realize her speed, which reached over seventy miles per hour. Nearing the same intersection where Brad was about to cross, the traffic signal appeared green with her impaired vision of swirled colors. So Yolanda kept driving until the TR-6 crossed the path in front of her. Yolanda didn’t know what she hit.
The Triumph took the hit squarely on Susie’s door. Built in an era before airbags, the car was ill-equipped to protect its occupants from the three-ton behemoth. The weight of the Suburban crushed the small car on Susie’s side, then flipped it on its top with the Suburban landing on top of it. Susie and Brad were killed instantly from blunt force trauma. Yolanda, on the other hand, was wearing her seatbelt, and with assistance from the airbag and the effect of the drugs, suffered only minor injuries.
Megan and Lara had just changed back into jeans and t-shirts when one of the bridesmaids ran back into the church, ashen faced and yelling about “the wreck”. Please Lord, no, Megan thought as she and her daughter ran outside. Leaving their dresses inside the church, both ran the few blocks toward the accident site. By this time, fire trucks, ambulances, and police had converged on the scene. Megan’s heart dropped when she saw the condition of the Triumph. As she watched, a wrecker, with assistance from firemen, was able to get the Suburban off the top of the small car. But as she watched, the bloody bodies of Susie and her husband of a scant few hours were cut out of the car. The crews were in no hurry and from that, Megan knew that they were both dead.
As the scene unfolded, Lara held Megan as she sobbed aloud for her friend. A part of Megan died in the accident, as the history between Megan and Susie had gone back so far and had been so personal. It was if she had lost a sister. Finally, Lara was able to get her mother to walk back to the church. Fortunately, the doors were still open so that they could retrieve their personal items and the “world’s ugliest dresses”.
The minister had waited on their return and greeted the pair as soon as they walked in the door. He and Lara got Megan to sit down and to begin talking. Between her parents’ figurative death, plus Matt and now Susie, there had been a lot of death in Megan’s life already. It didn’t reduce the sting, but inwardly, she knew that God was with her even in this tragedy. There would be still be much life to live. It just wouldn’t be with the person with whom she shared so much.
It was a quiet drive home for Megan, who willingly let her daughter drive back to the townhouse. After they arrived home, Lara continued to talk to and pray with her mother. Finally, Megan laid down and went to sleep later that evening. As soon as Megan went to sleep, Lara went back to her room but was unable to sleep from a combination of seeing her mother so distraught and grieving for her mother’s best friend.
CHAPTER 25
May-June, 2009 – summer between Lara’s sophomore and junior years
Lara successfully passed her driving school classes, and as a reward, Megan purchased a well-used but very serviceable Toyota Corolla S. The teen now had the freedom that she relished, but was careful not to give Megan any reason to suspect any of her activities. Now that she had her own “set of wheels”, Lara didn’t want to lose them for any reason.
Megan continued to grieve for her friend. While she was single, Susie had named Megan as the executor of her estate, but since Susie and Brad had gotten married, the responsibility for taking care of Susie’s estate fell to Brad’s brother Michael. Megan had spent considerable time helping him to liquidate Susie’s assets. Even though he wasn’t required to do it, Michael had substantially followed Susie’s wishes rather than combining the assets with her very new husband. As a result, Megan received a portion of Susie’s estate and was even more financially secure. But, secure or not, Megan would have given any amount of money if she could have Susie back. Megan had promised Susie that she would be her maid of honor when she married. Now, that and a thousand other dreams that the two shared would never happen. At least I have Lara, Megan reflected.
Michael and Megan got along well with each other while conducting the estate business. When Michael asked Megan out on a date, she was hesitant but eventually decided to say ‘yes’ to his invitation. In spite of the hurt of having been rejected by other men, Megan was willing to try again.
Fortunately, he treated her extremely well on their first date. She found it extremely ironic, though, that she was dating someone who had the name that she had as a child.
After several dates in quick succession, Megan decided that it was time to “come out” to him. She sensed that he was getting serious fairly quickly, so she wanted to put an end to it in case that he had issues with Megan having been born a boy. It had to be handled on their next date, Megan decided.
It was an evening with thunderstorms, so the pair met at a popular chain restaurant that the two had frequented. After exchanging polite kisses, they sat down. After a bit of small talk, Megan decided to open up.
“Michael, there’s been something that I have to tell you before I go any further.”
Interrupting, but still smiling, he said, “Let me guess. You’re positive for HIV. You can’t have any children. You’re allergic to glutens.”
“I wish it were that simple. Michael, I am a woman, and like you guessed, I can’t have children. But there’s a good reason for that. I was born a boy. I’ve lived as a woman since not long after starting college. I had surgery between my senior year and graduate school.”
Michael interrupted again. “I don’t get it. You were born a boy?”
“Yes, ironically, my name was Michael.”
He paused momentarily. Then he continued, “Megan, this just isn’t going to work for me. In fact, it’s an affront to me that you ever accepted one of my dates. I had no idea that you’re one of those weirdo people.”
“We’re not weirdo people, as you say. There’s scientific evidence to show that it’s not some kind of figment of our imagination. We’re born differently. Our brains are different than our bodies.”
“It doesn’t make any difference. I’m sorry, Megan. This is good-bye.”
With those words, Michael immediately rose and left the restaurant. Holding back her tears, Megan rose herself, and telling the waiter that the two wouldn’t be having dinner, made to it to the X3 before she lost her composure. Once again, societal discrimination dealt a cruel blow to her.
Fortunately, Lara’s world was not in turmoil at the moment, and the psychiatrist used her daughter as a vent that evening. She would later apologize to Lara for her behavior. But the teenager understood and listened to her mother as she spilled her sadness. It would be four years before Megan once again tried to find a man with whom to share her life.
CHAPTER 26
Summer, 2009
Lara was increasingly worried about Jessie. Every time that they met, it seemed that Jessie was getting smaller and smaller. Her face became angular and bony and even her neck had lost any fat that it once had. Even to her best friend, she was careful to never show herself without clothes. Controlling her weight had become an all-consuming passion. She became withdrawn, moody, and irrational at times. But Lara was willing to overlook Jessie’s behavior in order to maintain their friendship.
Early in the summer, Jessica and Lara planned to swimming at a local pool. The two were talking and Jessie forgot that Lara hadn’t seen her in a state of undress in a couple of months. Since the opportunity finally presented itself, Lara took full advantage and examined Jessie’s body from the backside as the latter changed into a bikini. Jessie’s ribs were visible in front as well as on her back. In the shoulder area, bones were clearly showing. The top hung loosely over her breasts, showing that they had shrunk. On the top of Jessie’s head, a bald spot was evident, making it clear that Jessica was losing her hair. There was absolutely no doubt that her best friend was well into the throes of anorexia.
“Jess, look at you!”
“I know. It’s a really great start. But I’m still kinda fat right here.” Jessie pointed to the only part of her body that still had some definition, and that was the upper portion of her thighs.
“But look. Your collarbone is sticking out and your ribs are showing. All of your boobs are gone and your hip bone is starting to show. That’s not normal!!”
“But I’ve still got this extra weight I need to lose. I mean, I still weigh 89 pounds. If I can just make it to 85, I think it’ll be enough. It’s just a little bit more. I just don’t want to be fat again. And remember me telling you about going to the mall with Mom last week? While she was shopping, I looked at some dresses and I was able to fit into a size 0.”
“But Jessie, you’re not fat any more. You’re anorexic. Don’t you remember the material that they showed us in science a couple of years ago?”
“I’m not anorexic. I still feel good.”
“No, you don’t. You fell asleep during the movie the other day. And you’re cold all the time.” The pair had been to a movie, and Jessica had dressed as if it was mid-winter. The loose sweat suit had accomplished two things, keeping her warm and hiding the extent of her weight loss.
Jessie began to tear up. “I don’t want to be fat. I’m still fat. I mean, look at my thighs.”
“Jess, you’re not fat anywhere.” The argument had given Lara an opportunity to look over her friend’s body with a critical eye. Jessie’s swimsuit, which had been purchased a year earlier, hung loosely on her, the bottom only staying on because the strings were tightened to such an extent that Jessie had to bundle the excess. The top was worse, with her shrunken breasts barely making a dent in the cups. Noting this, an ever anxious Lara began to almost yell almost in desperation. “You’re not even normal any more. You’re starting to look like somebody from the Holocaust. Take your suit off. I’m taking you somewhere to eat. You’ve got to eat!”
“No! I don’t want to eat. I don’t want to be fat anymore!” Jessie had ignored her friend’s order to change, and still in her swimsuit and athletic shoes that she was going to wear to the pool, she instead ran for and started up the treadmill in an adjacent room. While she began to run, she screamed at Lara, “This is what I want to do instead. I can burn up this fat faster on this thing than I can in the pool anyway!”
“I give up! You’re not fat! You’re sick!! Just sick! I don’t want to go anywhere with you like this!”
With that, Lara ran downstairs and out the front door of Jessie’s home, slamming the door behind her. Grabbing a tissue when she got to the car, she managed to hold most of the tears in until she reached the townhouse. After driving the Corolla into the garage, Lara let her emotions burst. She didn’t know what to do for her friend or how to do it. She didn’t want to bother her mom with what she viewed as her issue, but this was an exception.
She had driven back to the townhouse in a cover-up over her bathing suit, so after she calmed down, she changed into jeans and a t-shirt and phoned her mother.
“Megan Phillips.”
“Hi, Mom.”
“What’s wrong?” Speaking with a serious tone, Megan had developed the normal motherly sixth sense when something was wrong with their child. “I thought you were going to the pool with Jessie.”
“I was. But something happened. I need to talk to you.”
“Sure.” What could have happened between the girls, Megan asked herself.
“Mom, Jessie’s anorexic. She’s been losing weight for months now, but I didn’t see just how bad it is until we changed at her house. Mom, I saw her ribs and her collar bone.” Tears began to flow down Lara’s face as she continued. “She’s just skin and bones. She looks like those Holocaust pictures, but she keeps saying ‘I’m still fat’”.
Megan sighed. This was a tough call. Surely Jessie’s parents knew about the issue, but maybe they didn’t. What if they didn’t? Anorexics were able to hide their symptoms from loved ones for months. Finally, the answer came to her.
“Lara, call her Mom. Do you have her cell number? I’m sure that Jessie must have shared it with you sometime.”
“Yeah, I have it here.”
“Call her and be blunt. Tell her the situation and what you saw. In fact, tell her what you saw and the details of everything that you’ve seen these past few months. Jessie might have hidden this from her Mom and she doesn’t know about how bad it is.”
“OK, Mom. I’m sorry to bother you. I’ll call her, Mom.”
“Don’t you dare apologize to me, Lara Phillips. I’m proud of you. You did exactly the right thing.”
“Love you, bye.”
Lara called Carly White, Jessie’s mom, and as Megan suspected, she had somehow not noticed her daughter’s weight loss. The long work weeks that both she and her husband worked meant that they had little contact with Jessie. In the past few months, Jessie had purposely avoided contact with her parents, as well.
Carly took off work early almost immediately following Lara’s phone call. If what Lara told her was right, her daughter was in major trouble, and like it or not, action would have to be taken.
Jessica wasn’t expecting her, and Carly caught her running once again on the treadmill. Due to the noise of the machine, the teen didn’t hear her mother arrive. Not one to shy away from issues concerning her daughter, she walked straight to the room where the treadmill was located and knocked on the door facing.
Because of her anorexia, Jessie felt cold virtually all of the time, and even on the treadmill was dressed in a gray sweat suit. She momentarily jumped at the knock, then exclaimed “Mom!” as she looked around. Then she shut off the machine and hopped off.
“What are you doing home so soon”, Jessica asked.
“I came home to check on you. I heard that you may be having some problems.”
“I don’t having any problems, Mom”. In spite of her outward calm, Jessica’s heart was thumping loudly within her chest.
“Jessica, take your sweatshirt off, right now!” Carly ordered sternly.
The girl knew that she had to obey her mother’s orders or face a verbal thrashing plus being forced to do what she didn’t want to do, anyway. So she quickly removed her top, exposing her extreme thinness for her mother to see. Because of all the weight that she had lost, Jessie’s bra was practically falling off, and she reached up to push it back to cover her radically shrunken breasts. Her mother spotted Jessie’s ribs and shoulder bones clearly showing, and even spotted the teen’s bald spot.
Carly drew a breath in and cried, “Jessie! What have you been doing?”
“I’ve been on a diet, Mom. I was really afraid of getting fat like you.”
Carly sighed to herself. What her daughter pointed out was the truth. The mother had been a size 12 most of her adult life, but stress eating had led her to gain a substantial amount of weight during the past four years. Recently, she had to buy size 20’s for her wardrobe, and even this size wasn’t large enough as a muffin top was beginning to appear over the waist band of her pants. But Carly forced herself to lay her own concerns aside as she viewed her emaciated daughter.
“But your ribs are showing! And your arms are like sticks with skin over them.”
“I know, Mom. I look like a model now, don’t you think?”
It was obvious that Jessica was entirely oblivious of what was happening to her. This was alarming to Carly and it made the situation even more urgent.
“Take your pants off! I want to take a look at you all over.”
“OK.” Obviously unhappy, Jessie nonetheless complied.
Once her pants were off, the full extent of what she had done was evident. Jessica was down almost fifty pounds from her “fat” weight and some forty pounds less than “normal” for her height. Although not as severe as some pictures that Carly had seen, her daughter was undoubtedly anorexic, especially considering her attitude.
Viewing her stick-like legs, Carly asked Jessica again, “Why, Jessie?”
“Mom, I was fat. When I tried on a dress last Christmas, I had to get a size 7. I’ve been a size 5 like forever. I felt my belly and my thighs and they were soft. And my butt was starting to jiggle. I thought about you and how you’ve just gotten fatter and fatter, and I had to do something.”
“Jessica, how much have you been eating?”
“Enough.”
“Define enough.”
“Well, I had a protein bar for breakfast, a nutrition shake at lunch, then I had some lettuce and carrots a little bit ago.”
“Have you been counting calories?”
“Sure. How else would I be able to lose?”
“Tell me how many calories you’ve been aiming to eat every day.”
“Seven hundred. Eight hundred if I’m really hungry.”
Jessica began shaking because she had become extremely cold, in spite of room being at 75 degrees. She grabbed a fluffy robe from her closet, one that completely swallowed her sallow self. Carly paused while her daughter put on the robe. Then the two sat down on Jessie’s bed, each facing the other just a foot apart.
“How much do you weigh?”
“Mom, what is this? A game of ten thousand questions or something?”
“Jessie, I just need to know how much you weigh. I know that you have to be weighing yourself every morning.”
The teen sighed and answered, “89. I’m trying to lose down to 85 then I’m gonna stop. The other day when I went to the mall with Tristin, I tried on a dress and I was able to fit into a size zero. I just want to lose a few more pounds from right here. Mom, I might be able to model really soon.” Jessie pointed to the only place on her body where bones were not sticking out, her thighs.
Carly went to Jessica’s closet without saying anything and began removing some of her clothes and putting them on her adjacent bed.
“What are you doing, Mom?”
“Jessica, you have to go to the hospital. You’re sick.”
The teen began shouting. “Mom, I’m not sick!”
“What you’ve done isn’t normal. It’s called anorexia nervosa and if you keep on, you’re going to die. Do you want to die?” Carly raised her volume in response to Jessica’s.
“Mom, I’m not gonna die. I’m just gonna get thin.”
“Jessica, you’re beyond thin. You’re like a stick. You’re only eating seven hundred calories a day, and the normal for a girl like you is fifteen hundred minimum. I could check the treadmill’s stored history, and it would probably tell me that you’re spending an enormous amount of time on it.” She paused for a couple of seconds, then continued, “Jessica, you’re sick. I have to take you.”
The girl broke down in tears, and soon, tears flowed down the cheek of her mother as the two began to load a suitcase for the trip to Metro Hospital’s eating disorders unit. Jessica would eventually spend the next several weeks a couple of floors below where “Kyle” stayed during the week following her suicide attempt.
It would be a long, hard fight for the teen, one that consume the attention of her parents and her best friend for months to come.
CHAPTER 27
Early December, 2009 – Lara’s junior year of high school
Despite Metro’s best efforts, Jessie’s weight continued to drop, first through the eighties, then into the seventies. In a desperate attempt to save her life, the hospital began a force-feeding regimen. This involved strapping down the errant but determined teen, then attaching IV’s containing nutritional replacements.
Several cycles of this behavior occurred from the time that Jessie entered Metro. She would get stronger from the IV’s, then promise to eat better at home which would result in her release. When she wouldn’t eat, her weight would drop and then the Whites would have to return her to Metro.
Meanwhile, the toll on Jessica’s body was enormous. Because of the lack of nutrition, her body began to shut down some of its functions. Her heart, particularly, was beginning to suffer because her body was consuming muscle tissue in a last-ditch effort to stave off starvation. She began to suffer arrhythmias as a result. The doctors had been frank with Jessica’s parents and told them of the physical damage that she faced in recovery. Even if she recovered, her heart, liver, and other vital organs would have to be monitored for the rest of her life, as the illness resulted in damage to virtually everything in her body.
Even with her friend’s ongoing illness, Lara visited Jessie at home or in the hospital, wherever she happened to be at the time. It was difficult on Lara’s part. At times, she felt that she was talking to a blank wall due to Jessie’s lack of reaction to news of the happenings in their school and gossip about their mutual friends. All that Jessie wanted to talk about was her world, and more than once, Lara went to her car and cried after their visits. The girl with the limp hair, ghostly skin tone, and bony exterior was unrelated to the girl that she had grown up with. The only thing that kept Lara going back to see Jessie was prayer and the knowledge that somewhere deep down, Jessie needed her.
Lara continued to attend high school and was able to maintain a high grade point average in spite of taking Advanced Placement classes. Megan was proud of her academic achievements in spite of the fact that Lara didn’t have any ideas as to what she wanted to do in college.
Close to Thanksgiving of Lara’s junior year, Jessie’s illogical thought processes finally cracked. After many sessions, Jessie recognized what she had done and worked with the staff to get better. Her intake had to be closely monitored, as her fragile condition meant that her body could only process a certain amount of nutrition at a time. But finally, she was gaining weight, although it was still frighteningly low at just over eighty pounds.
But her heart had been irrevocably damaged. It had been determined that she was suffering from heart failure and the hospital began treating her for it. With all of the bad news, Lara was determined to bring some joy into her friend’s life, all the time knowing that she could die before she became strong enough to survive. Nonetheless, it didn’t matter – she had to help her friend. Lara asked for, and received permission to take Jessica on a trip outside the hospital. Lara thought that the change of scenery would be a morale boost for her friend. It was decided that a Wednesday evening two weeks before Christmas would be appropriate.
With the staff’s encouragement, Lara went to Jessie’s room to help her change into warmer clothes that she would need for venturing into the cold December air. Jessie looked worse in some ways rather than better, and it took all of Lara’s strength to keep from bursting into tears at the sight of her. There was no muscle definition anywhere in her body and her thin limbs were barely larger than a toddler’s. Her hair was thin and limp.
But finally, Jessie was upbeat. Lara finally saw some signs of her best friend’s return. She just prayed to herself that it wasn’t too late.
Because she was so weak, Jessie had to ride in a wheelchair while Lara pushed. When they reached the lobby, Lara went outside to the parking lot and pulled her car up to the entrance. A nurse wheeled out Jessie and the two worked to get into Jessie into her car without falling. A fall would have been disastrous for Jessie because her bones were so severely deteriorated due to osteoporosis related to her illness.
Lara’s mind was buzzing while getting Jessie loaded into the car. The problem was what to do once they left the hospital. She didn’t want to go to a restaurant or coffee house for fear of triggering Jessie. Another problem was keeping Jessie warm because the temperature was in the thirties outside. Fortunately, the car’s heater worked well, and soon it was veritably roasting above eighty degrees inside.
As to what to do, Lara prayed for a solution and the answer came quickly. She decided to go to various parts of the city and view the Christmas lights with Jessie and then park and converse with her.
The ride turned out to be the best experience in months for both young women. At last, Jessie was able to take her mind off her own problems. Lara drove to a park where there was a massive display of lights, and both girls gasped in amazement as Lara drove slowly through the display.
At the edge of the park, Lara pulled into a parking area where both girls could talk. Jessie opened up to Lara about recovery and especially about returning to a more normal life. Even though they wouldn’t be in the same grade any longer, Jessie still excitedly talked about returning to school. Finally, she asked Lara if they could go to a coffee shop and get some coffee, that she was cold in spite of Lara running the heater at full blast. Of course, Lara obliged, and the two girls spent another two hours in the coffee shop having a conversation the likes of which they hadn’t enjoyed in months. Fortunately, Jessie didn’t show any signs of “triggering” while they enjoyed their coffee and conversation.
Finally, it was time to take Jessie back to the hospital. Both girls were sad during the twenty minute drive back to the hospital. But each of them had hope where before there had been none. Just a few blocks short of the hospital, Lara abruptly pulled into a well-lit parking area adjacent to a local business and asked to hold Jessie’s hand. A very bony hand was offered, and Lara began to pray for her friend. Jessie began to whimper and after the prayer asked Lara if it was too late for her to ask for God’s help. Lara reassured her that it certainly wasn’t, and the two girls prayed together for the first time in their nine year friendship. Afterward, Lara quietly drove the remaining distance to the hospital.
After pulling in to the circle drive at the entrance to the Mental Health unit at Metro, Lara noticed how quiet that Jessie had become. It was obvious that the time the two girls spent together had taken a severe toll on Jessie’s weakened body. After pulling into the loading area at the hospital, Lara unloaded Jessie’s wheelchair from the trunk and brought it around to the passenger side door. Even with Lara gently easing Jessie out of the car, the latter practically fell into the wheelchair when she got out of the Corolla. In spite of this, both girls were still upbeat as Lara wheeled Jessie into the hospital.
“This has been a great evening”, Lara smiled at Jessie as she neared the nurses’ station.
“The best. I want to do this again, and really soon”, Jessie said, smiling back at her friend.
“Love you girl. Take care, and I’ll see you soon.” Lara reached over and hugged her tightly as Jessie leaned forward in the chair.
“I love you, too. Thanks again for this evening, and for everything. BFF’s forever.”
Jessie continued to hug Lara tightly, but all of a sudden her grip loosened as Jessie slumped into Lara’s arms. Alarmed at the sudden slackness, Lara tried to gently rest Jessie against the back of the chair, but Jessie’s now limp body slumped forward. Thinking that Jessie had merely fainted, but afraid of worse, Laura caught her and yelled for help from a staff member stationed in the hospital lobby.
“I need help! Jessie fainted or something!” She was not only frightened at the suddenness of what had occurred, but also wondered what the real cause of Jessie’s sudden collapse. Fortunately, the nurse who responded helped Lara to ease Jessie onto the lobby floor.
While Lara watched, the scene quickly became a rush to save Jessica’s life. The nurse determined that she was not breathing and had no pulse. Within seconds, a resident happening by the scene ran off and came back with a portable defibrillator. All the efforts were in vain, though, as Jessica’s heart refused to beat any longer.
An already emotionally tired Lara retreated to a corner of the lobby, crying and watching helplessly as they tried to revive Jessica. Pulling her cell phone from her purse, Lara called her mother. Fortunately, Megan had just left the hospital after attending to a suicidal patient. When Megan heard the intensity of her daughter’s call, she instinctively knew what was happening. Turning the SUV around, she admonished, “I’ll be there in just a minute! Pray for Jessie!”
Half running, half walking into the lobby of the Mental Health Unit, Megan arrived and immediately placed her daughter in a tight bear hug. The memory of losing Susie was still fresh in her memory, and she was determined that Lara wouldn’t feel alone. Releasing her grip, the two watched quietly through their tears as the doctors and nurses who had gathered around Jessica began to disperse. One of them remarked for the record, “Time of death, 2215”. Lara again broke down as Megan held her tightly and cried herself. It would be after midnight before both women could compose themselves enough to leave and return to the townhouse. Neither would realize it at the time, but the events of the evening would guide Lara into her lifetime career.
The following afternoon, Megan received a call from Lara. Megan had left Lara asleep in the townhouse. There was absolutely no way that she was going to insist that Lara go to school after such an ordeal.
“Megan Phillips.” Megan answered the phone without looking at the caller ID.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, honey. How are you doing? I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
“I’m really tired. I still cry a little bit if I think about things too much. I just keep remembering all the good times that we had together. And sometimes, the bad times.” Lara was referring to a few times when she ran to Jessica’s house after a beating by her father.
“Of course. That’s going to happen for some time, honey. It’s just a natural part of the grieving process. Jessie was your friend and a really close one. It doesn’t matter whether she was sick or not, she’s a big part of your history.”
“Well, that’s kind of what I’m calling about. Jessie’s mom called me and asked if I would like to deliver a eulogy at the funeral. I mean, I’ve heard about eulogies, but I’ve never been to a funeral with one. I don’t know if I can do it without crying my eyes out up there and looking stupid. I just wanted to ask what you think.”
“Do you want to tell everyone about your friendship? There were a lot of things that you shared. I mean, I didn’t see as much of her as your Mom, certainly, but I could tell that in a lot of ways, you were as close as sisters.”
Lara was close to tears again. “We were. I mean, I think I’d like to deliver one, because everyone is going to emphasize just the last couple of years with her illness. I’d like everyone to know the Jessie that I knew.”
“Go for it, then. You’re one strong young woman. And don’t worry if you have to stop and sniffle a couple of times during your delivery. They don’t expect you to be presidential up there. After all, you’re still a young woman who’s lost her best friend. Remember that I’ll be there, too! I’m sure you can find some examples of some eulogies on the internet. But if you have any questions, call me back. I just have a couple more patients this afternoon, so I can definitely help you with it tonight if you want.”
“Thank you, Mom. I’ll see what I can find on the Internet. I’ll see you tonight.”
Lara was an intelligent and creative person, and by some miracle was able to put her emotion aside to write a tribute to her friend.
That evening, Lara showed her eulogy to Megan. It was profound, and showed a level of maturity that even Megan didn’t expect from Lara.
Jessica’s funeral was on the following Saturday. When it came time in the service for Lara to deliver her eulogy, she squeezed her mother’s hand and quietly walked up to the podium.
She began to deliver her eulogy.
“We’re here today to honor the memory of Jessica Lynn White. Many of you knew her as Jessie or Jess, but by any name, she was my best friend and the sister that I never had. I first met Jessie in the first grade when she moved into our school district with her parents. We sat next to each other in homeroom class. We made unlikely classmates, as I was a tomboy and she was the girl who was always dressed up. But as I got to know her, our differences disappeared. By the time fourth grade rolled around, we spent every lunch hour together. I was first allowed to go over to her house that year, and as time went on, we spent more and more time together. A lot of times, we did our homework together. During times when we weren’t busy with school work, we would talk, try on clothes, practice our makeup (and no, we didn’t share it, Mrs. White!), mainly all of the things that girls do together with their BFF’s. Because of family issues, I always had to come to her house to spend time with her, but she never seemed to mind. I’ll never forget the long afternoons where we lounged on her front porch or walked to the library together. Later on, my Mom took us to the mall where we learned that quintessential female skill – shopping. I will always be grateful to her for spending time with me in all of the shops where we critiqued clothes. I would have never gotten out of my tomboy stage, I’m afraid, except for the times that we spent in dressing rooms trying on dresses, skirts, and tops. She was the first one besides my Mom to tell me that I was pretty. With this one phrase, I was able to accept and love myself. Jessie, you gave me everything and you never asked for anything back. You always, always, always listened to me and never criticized me. I hated it when I found out that you were sick. From the very first time that I saw you in the hospital, I knew that I had to do everything that I could to get you well. It was depressing to see you, but I was so glad that we were able to spend time together. The last time that we saw each other was a culmination of our friendship. We laughed, we talked, we drove around and saw the Christmas lights, and we smiled at each other. But the best part was parking my car and praying with her for God to forgive her sins and redeem her. That night will stay with me forever, Jessie. While we were best friends, we saved the absolute best for last. I will miss you forever! I love you.”
Megan was in tears before Lara finished. She was proud of her for honoring her friend, but she was also sad that Lara would have to live through another death at such an early age. As Lara returned to her seat beside Megan, the psychiatrist Mom hugged her daughter tightly and whispered “I’m proud of you!” to her.
Lara would continue to grieve for several weeks. After some time, it became apparent to Megan that Jessica had served as a bridge between her old life with her parents and her new one with Megan.
It took hours of talking and crying for Lara to release all of the angst to her mother. Initially, Megan feared that her daughter might try to pull back into her own shell, but happily, the opposite happened. The teen became ever closer to her adoptive mother, and to those in their circle of acquaintances, Megan was as much a mother as any biological one.
CHAPTER 28
Mid-December, 2009
Tim Phillips was in his home office, perusing the internet as was his custom on most weekday nights. He had recently semi-retired from his occupation as a urological surgeon and chose to use the internet to help keep his mind sharp.
He didn’t think much about “Michael” for more than a dozen years after disowning him, being busy with his practice. But after slowing down, there had been time to think, and the loneliness of old age had begun to set in.
A month earlier, by accident, he was traversing one of the corridors outside a large meeting room where Metro Hospital had many of its conferences. By the door, a sign stood announcing a lecture by “Dr. Megan Phillips”. Once or twice in the past years, he had been asked if he was any relation to the psychiatrist, a question to which he firmly answered “no”. But this particular day, curiosity overcame the objections and hurt of the past.
Carefully taking a seat in the last row of the darkened auditorium, he waited until Megan’s speech began. It took him less than five minutes to realize that no matter how he felt, the person delivering the lecture was a woman by any definition. Her tall, slender build and Native American facial features heavily reminded him of his wife. The psychiatrist’s gestures, speech, and the manner in which she expressed herself further added further evidence. He concluded that, in fact, this “woman” and his wife could have easily been construed as mother and daughter given their similarity. After fifteen minutes, he left the seminar so that he would not be seen.
Tim didn’t immediately tell his wife about his accidental encounter. Instead, as a physician, he began to research transgender and transsexual behavior. Could “Michael” have remained male as he insisted those many years earlier? Was there legitimacy to “Megan” and “her” claim that she grew up mentally female in a male body? The genuineness of the woman delivering the lecture gnawed at his mind.
After almost a month of looking at videos, blogs, essays, and other internet material, he came to conclusion that he was wrong. It was time to accept her as a woman, no matter how “Megan” had been born physically. Michaela needs to see this stuff, he thought.
“Mic”, he yelled from his office, “Could you come here a second?” His wife was in a room just down the hall and quickly came to his office.
“Yes, dear?” she said, curious as to what Tim wanted.
“You need to see this. Come and have a seat.” Michaela complied, having come to conclusion that the abruptness of his speech came with being a doctor. She had long ago accepted his bossiness, knowing that he cared regardless of how he sounded.
“Mic, I’ve been wrong about our child. A month ago, I wandered into a lecture that was being given by ‘Megan Phillips’. I remembered that day that we kicked Michael out, and he called himself ‘Megan’. A couple of people have asked me over the years if I was related to Megan Phillips, the psychiatrist. I told them no, because I was still convinced that Michael was crazy and I selfishly didn’t want to acknowledge being a party to his mistake.”
The physician continued. “Anyway, I went into the lecture and it was indeed the person that was born as our son. But it was a woman through and through who delivered the lecture. I remembered all of the times that he said he was a girl and how happy he looked when he was dressed like one. But the last time we saw Michael, at Christmas during his freshman year, I saw a girl standing there by the car. I couldn’t understand it. So I rejected my child. I was wrong. Seeing Megan Phillips in that lecture, how confident she was standing up there, how well she presented her material.” Tim stopped.
“She was right”, Michaela quietly remarked.
Nodding his head in agreement, he replied, “Yeah. Michael was always Megan. Let me show you some things that I found.”
For the next two hours, Tim showed his wife videos and other reference materials supporting what Michael had insisted during his childhood.
One of the things that Tim found was evidence of the effect of certain drugs on a fetus while still in utero. While Tim and Michaela were discussing it, Michaela stopped and exclaimed, “How about those ‘vitamins’ that they gave me in Ghana? I kept a bottle as a souvenir of our time there.”
“Go get it. We’ll see if there’s anything there to cause a problem.”
When Michaela returned, Tim looked over the bottle. On reading it, his face became flush.
Shakily, he told his wife, “The ‘vitamins’ contained 100 milligrams of DES per dose. You were being given large amounts of estrogen through them.”
“What’s the effect of that?”
“Mic, there are studies out there that detail the effects of DES on unborn children. We found out as early as the 1970’s that it caused issues, particularly for girls. But obviously, in Ghana, they still felt that it helped to prevent miscarriage.”
“What about boys, Tim?” Now, Michaela was sitting on the edge of her seat.
“Of course, there are differences between female brains and male brains, the old Venus and Mars story. We all start out with female brains. Male brains develop because of a burst of testosterone that boy babies get as they mature in utero. DES in dosages as little as half of what you were given prevent that from happening. So you end up with a baby with a boy body but a brain that’s still female.”
“So Michael wasn’t lying. He really was a girl in his mind.”
“That’s right. There are a couple of other things that happen with DES, things that I saw in Michael at a young age. His genitalia were underdeveloped and small the whole time he was here. And do you remember when we were stumped when he developed hypothyroidism when there isn’t any history of it in our families? That’s another sign of DES.”
“Tim, I shouldn’t have ever taken them. What was I thinking, taking some medication from a third world country?” Tears began to roll down Michaela’s face. Tim saw it and reached over to hold his wife.
“Mic, we didn’t know. These studies didn’t occur until after Michael left for college. And unless you looked for them, they weren’t easy to find, because they weren’t widely published.”
“Tim, we kicked our child out of our lives. Eighteen years. And Michael, or Megan, wasn’t lying to us. She was a girl and she couldn’t help it that she was occupying a boy’s body.”
“We have to get in touch with her and try to reconcile. That’s all we can do now. Maybe she’ll forgive us and let us back into her life.”
Michaela shook her head up and down to signal her agreement. It was difficult for her to talk. She was busy remembering the times that she had clandestinely taken ‘Michael’ out as a girl and witnessed her happiness. What would life have been like for ‘Megan’ if she had been allowed to be a young woman, she thought.
After a long pause, Tim continued to verbalize his thoughts. “Mic, I want you to call her. I’m afraid that she’d reject me and just hang up if I were to call.”
“I would have to agree. And would you blame her? The rejection, the disownment, and everything you did? You hurt her by trying to make her into something she obviously wasn’t.”
“Are you blaming me completely?”
“No, I don’t blame just you. I went along with it.” Michaela paused. “I’ll try to call her later this week. I want to make sure that I say everything right, so give me a couple of days.”
“OK, I will. I pray this works. I’m so darn sorry now.”
“Me, too.”
Tim began to have tears run down his face as he witnessed his wife’s reactions and thought more about the studies and results that showed what happened with his child. He, too, wondered what life would have been if he hadn’t rejected her outright.
CHAPTER 29
Megan’s office - one week later – just before Christmas, 2009
It was late afternoon on a Tuesday. Megan had finished with all of her patients and was completing some notes on her computer when her phone rang.
She answered it as normal, “Megan Phillips.”
“Hello, is this Dr. Phillips?” Hearing the voice, she almost dropped the phone. It was a voice with which she was very familiar, but hadn’t heard in seventeen years. It was her mother.
Heart pounding, Megan asked, “Yes, it is. Is this Michaela Phillips?”
“Yes. Your mother.”
“I thought it was you, Mom. How are you and Dad doing?” Megan was polite, but not overly warm considering the events of almost two decades earlier. Lord, you’re going to have to help me here, she thought as she tried to process the very thought of communicating with someone so long out of her life.
“Your father and I would like to apologize for what we did years ago. We didn’t understand what was going on with you, your father particularly. If there’s some way that we can reconcile, we’d like to do it.”
“OK. I mean, it’s been seventeen years. Why now? ” What was the real reason for the call, Megan asked herself. Was one of them sick and dying and wanting to patch things up? Too little, too late, she first thought, then was reminded of the thief on the cross next to Christ. If Christ forgave as He and a criminal were dying, why couldn’t she?
Michaela Phillips continued after a pregnant pause. “We wondered where you were. Your father, the internet expert, got online and found you. Then we found a video of one of your presentations at a conference and listened to it. I must say, you’re quite the speaker. Your peers have some great things to say about you, too.” Pausing for half a second, Megan’s mother continued. “We found out that I was given DES in a large dose. Your Dad found some studies that explained how this affects gender thinking. We realize that we were wrong, that you really felt like a girl.”
Megan pinched herself, thinking that she must have fallen asleep and was dreaming. But, no, this was really happening. Still suspicious, she guardedly reacted to her mom.
Before Megan could react, her mother continued. “How is your personal life? Friends? Boyfriend, maybe?”
Temporarily leaving her thoughts behind, the psychiatrist decided to talk about the present instead of the past. “Mom, I’m really good. I have friends, I go to church, I don’t have a boyfriend, but I have a wonderful teenage daughter.”
“A daughter?!!”
“Yes, and she’s a wonderful 17 year old with more brains and a lot more sense than I had.”
OK, where are you going with this? Megan speculated endlessly in the next few seconds. Dinner? Where? She didn’t have to wait long.
“Why don’t we meet for dinner somewhere? Hamilton House, say Friday night at 8:00? Are you off duty?”
“Mom, eight Friday would be perfect. I’m not on call this week. Would it be all right if my daughter Lara came along?”
“Lara? What a lovely name. Of course, bring her.”
“OK, Mom, we’ll see you at Hamilton House at 8:00 Friday.”
Megan was shaking when she hung up the phone. She had always dreamed of this day, but as the years dragged on, increasingly dismissed her wish as fantasy. But now it was going to happen.
She and Lara would need to buy new dresses for the occasion. Hamilton House was a high-end restaurant, and one just didn’t wear whatever they had in the closet. Some shopping was on the agenda.
Later that evening
Megan was still digesting her mother’s phone call as she fixed dinner for her and Lara. She was expecting her daughter home at any moment, but no matter what she did, the phone conversation stayed at the front of her thoughts.
Lara quickly picked up on Megan’s mood as soon as she arrived and greeted her mother.
“Mom, what’s going on?” The younger woman’s bluntness no longer surprised or upset Megan.
“You know the story about my parents.”
“Mmhmm. They kicked you out when you were only nineteen, then disowned you. Yep.”
“My Mom called me today. She apologized for what she and Dad did to me, and they want to see if we can reconcile.”
With wide eyes, Lara answered, “No! You must be kidding. Now? After all this time?”
“Apparently so. She even asked how I was doing, if I had a boyfriend, that sort of thing. Then I mentioned I had a daughter. Well, that threw her off.”
Lara grinned. “Well, at least it’s not because you got pregnant in your freshman year of college.”
Megan loosened up at her daughter’s kidding. “Smart aleck teenager! You have an amazing memory! Well, we have some shopping to do. We’re having dinner at Hamilton House Friday night at 8:00.”
“Hamilton House? Wow. Isn’t that the place where a meal costs a gazillion dollars or something?”
“Never underestimate the spending power of a senior urologist with serious remorse.”
“Mom, are you sure you’re ready for this? I mean, from everything you’ve told me, you had written them off. Like they died or something.”
“Well, they did die for all these years. I thought that I wouldn’t care if I ever saw them again, but once she called today, well…”
“You really want to forgive them.”
“I do want to forgive them. They’re entitled to make a mistake. And didn’t I make one, too? I mean, I could have called them. All they could have done to me was hang up.”
“Yeah, and it would have hurt you all over again. Doctor Phillips, it’s time to quit second guessing yourself and just let life roll.”
Megan raised her eyebrows and smiled at Lara. “Seems that I’ve taught you well, young Doctor Phillips. You’re absolutely right. Now let’s hurry and eat. Linh’s waiting on us.”
“Who?”
Soon, they were on their to Linh’s Boutique. Linh Huong was an acquaintance of Megan’s who had provided her with dresses for important events in the past, and her shop reflected the classy, sophisticated look that Megan sought.
Since Lara had not yet been to a prom or other important event, this would be her first evening dress, and she was anxiously awaiting this shopping experience.
It was only a twenty minute drive to Linh’s shop. Once they arrived, Megan introduced Lara to Linh. The latter was excited, as she didn’t get many teen customers in her shop. Linh didn’t normally have such things as prom dresses in her shop, and as a result, her clientele turned out to be adult women such as Megan.
It only took a few minutes for Lara to find a two-tone black and white evening maxi dress. It made Lara look older, Linh and Megan thought, but both liked the look and fit, so Megan decided to get it for her daughter. Megan was more conservative, opting for a dark blue off-the-shoulder evening dress.
Daughter was waiting on mother as Megan came outside the dressing room to critique her dress. After putting on the dress, Megan had fluffed her hair and put on some jewelry that she had brought with her. With one more look in the mirror in the dressing room, she proceeded outside so that Lara and Linh could critique her.
The eyes of both women widened when Megan came out.
“Mom, you look stunning in it. That’s beyond perfect”, Lara cooed.
“It looks excellent on you, Doctor Phillips”, Linh echoed.
Megan took a look at herself in a three-sided mirror and smiled. She had always dreamed of looking like the woman in the mirror, but had somehow fallen short every time. But this time, a tall, attractive woman in her thirties smiled back.
Even though Megan appeared and acted totally confident, there had always been a weight on her – a weight inside that said she wasn’t a “real” woman somehow, but just a “trans-woman”. In spite of God, in spite of psychological help, in spite of time, this lie had always hung over her. But in an instant, the entire weight left her.
Megan grinned at Linh and Lara, but her daughter knew that some unseen reaction had occurred. She herself had experienced the same emotions at Jessica’s house the first time that she tried on one of Jessica’s dresses.
Going over to her Mom, she hugged her tightly. Megan had finally resolved the last lingering issue from her transition.
Megan dropped off the dresses at the dry cleaners the next morning on the way to work. Mother and daughter were at last ready for the “unveiling”.
CHAPTER 30
Three days later - Friday night, Hamilton House restaurant, 7:50 p.m.
Megan was more nervous than she had been at any time since presenting her Master’s thesis. It showed as she jerked the X3 around a corner as she drove toward Hamilton House. Lara chided her for her choppy driving, earning a glare from her mother.
“Mom, it’s a good thing that there’s no snow on the street right now. We would have ended up against a fireplug or a curb.”
“And how many more years have I been driving than you?”
“I know what’s going on. You just need to chill.” Darn teen attitude, Megan thought to herself.
“This is my Mom and Dad. And I haven’t seen them in seventeen years. And this is only the second time that they’ve seen me as a woman. That is, if you want to count that first time.”
“Not sure I would. After all, you’re Dad said you were crossdressing to him.”
“OK, then I stand corrected. This will be the first time, then.”
“Mom, you’re awesome. You’re a confident, competent, well respected doctor. What parents wouldn’t be proud of their daughter for that?”
“I just don’t want this to erupt into an argument. My Dad can be very headstrong and I don’t know how much of this is Mom’s doing. She could be roping my Dad into this and he could still end up glaring at me and calling me names. I don’t want a confrontation, especially at a well-known restaurant.”
“Oh, ye of little faith.”
Lara was right, Megan reasoned. There was no reason to be nervous until she at least gave her parents a chance.
Within a couple of minutes, they were at the valet parking stand at the restaurant. Megan alit from the X3 and obtained a parking ticket from the valet. As the attendant drove off, she met her daughter and walked to the entrance. Megan squeezed Lara’s hand and smiled at her. She was always amazed at her daughter’s ability to see the truth in any situation.
Once inside, Lara drank in the luxurious interior. Noticing the “Specials” board, she caught herself quietly gasping at the prices. Megan noticed her and quietly told her, “I know. A little higher than where we normally eat, huh? But remember, this is on your grandfather.” The last sentence sounded strange, but it was true. If Tim and Michaela hoped to resume a relationship with Megan, it would also have to be with Lara as their granddaughter.
The two women waited just a few minutes until a six-foot three, distinguished looking elderly gentlemen and his tall Native American wife strolled through the door into the waiting area. Her parents looked remarkably good for being almost twenty years since Megan had last seen them. Other than more gray hair and wrinkles, they were almost the same.
Megan wanted to speak, but waited. Michaela took the lead as she did in the phone call.
“Megan?”
“Hi, Mom.” Megan lightly embraced her mother.
Tim’s eyes grew wide at the sight of his daughter embracing his wife. Surprised at how much that Megan resembled Michaela, there was no mistaking the fact that the two were related. After releasing her mother’s grip, Megan moved over and hugged her Dad. She quietly said, “Hi, Dad.” “Megan”, he haltingly said, regretting that this attractive woman had been missing from his life for a long time.
Megan then introduced Lara. “This is your grandmother and grandfather, Lara. Mom and Dad, this is my daughter, Lara.”
Both Tim and Michaela managed a nervous smile as Lara moved to embrace them. “It’s nice to meet you. Mom has told me a lot about you”, she said.
The maître d’ greeted them and accompanied them to a table in a far corner of the restaurant, away from most of the other patrons. Now the fun begins, mused Megan, cautiously wanting to believe that reconciliation was going to happen.
Tim seated each of the three women, then took a seat opposite Megan. Michaela took the seat opposite Lara.
As soon as they were seated, a waiter came and took their drink orders and brought menus for them to peruse.
Lara was completely flummoxed by the menu. There were so many things on it that she had never heard of or seen before. Megan was better, having been in Hamilton House several times.
When the waiter returned, Megan asked for his recommendation and she settled on halibut. She also helped Lara settle on a small filet mignon with steamed vegetables. Both of Megan’s parents settled for higher-priced seafood, but Megan didn’t want to take advantage of them in case that the evening was a disaster.
The waiter brought water and tea for the foursome, and each gave him their order. An awkward silence followed momentarily. Megan had anticipated this and decided to open the conversation. Lara wanted to leave as she sensed the tension between daughter and parents.
Megan began. “Mom and Dad, why talk to me again? I mean, it’s been almost twenty years.” Then she paused after realizing that her phrasing still showed blame for their actions. She quickly frowned and added, “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”
Tim answered her, “I know that you have the right to be angry with us. We never made an attempt to try to get in touch with you. Megan, as a doctor, I have to look at facts every day. When I told you to leave years ago, frankly, I didn’t have all of the facts. I just saw my son dressed like a girl and I thought ‘What the hell?’ But as I got older, I began to mourn the loss of you and I wondered if I hadn’t made a gigantic mistake. So, I began to look into your ‘condition’. Everything that you said corresponded exactly with what you insisted at the time. The more that I looked into it, the more that I was wrong to have treated you the way that I did. I’m sorry.” Tim looked down briefly before again looking at Megan.
Now it was Michaela’s turn. “I was wrong, too, because I came to the same conclusion, that you were some kind of nutcase. I went along with your Dad because I thought that the only way to return you to what we considered ‘sanity’ was to take away everything that you had at the time. Now I understand how serious that you were. This conversation should have taken place a lot sooner than now.”
Megan looked at both of them sympathetically. “I was wrong, too. I shouldn’t have written off our relationship. I was selfish for not trying to reconcile. If we can, let’s just try to put the years aside, and go on, shall we?” To Megan, it made no sense to keep all of the old wounds open. The best way to heal in her mind was to forgive and forget.
Tim, looking sympathetic at Megan, re-opened the conversation.
“I wanted to tell how you how we got to this point. I was in Metro a month ago when you were delivering a lecture in the auditorium. There were signs outside and your name caught my eye. I wandered in and found a seat in the back. I couldn’t believe my eyes. You were just a woman doctor delivering a lecture. Your voice, your gestures, everything said ‘woman’. I had to come home and share the news with your mother. But I just couldn’t reconcile the boy that grew up in our house with this person that I saw at the lectern. But I decided to keep an open mind. One Saturday your Mom and I spent several hours on the internet. The more I looked, the more it I realized that this wasn’t a fluke. We watched videos of people like you. They related all of their experiences and their feelings. It sounded just like you. I realized then that I had been too quick to judge and too cruel to do what I had done to you.”
Michaela, who had been looking at Megan the entire time, interjected “Megan, we’re sorry.” There were tears in her eyes.
Tim continued. “We started looking back and wondering if something had happened during pregnancy. In my research, I realized that many trans-people your age had hormonal issues due to drugs that the mother took while pregnant. I think we have an answer for you.”
Megan looked at the two of them with curious disbelief. “What was it”, she asked.
“We were in Ghana on a two-month mission to help train doctors in urological surgeries when your mother discovered that she was pregnant. One of our host doctors found out about it and gave your Mom a nine-month supply of prenatal vitamins that he raved about. All these years, your Mom kept the leftover bottle as a souvenir of our trip. She dug it out a few weeks ago and I researched it on the internet. The vitamins contained an estrogen.”
“DES. Mom told me”, Megan interrupted. “It was still marketed in third world countries as a way to prevent miscarriages until the late 1990s.”
“Yes, Megan. Since your mother took it for virtually her whole pregnancy, it affected your brain’s development.”
“And that explains a lot of other things, too, physical stuff, mostly. I always wondered why I was the only one in family history to be hypothyroid. And why I never developed when I was thirteen or fourteen.”
Michaela looked at Megan. “It wasn’t you. You couldn’t help what happened. We didn’t know.”
Megan stared sympathetically, first at her mother, then her father. “You couldn’t have known. The research into the effects of DES on transsexuals was in its infancy when I was growing up. But now we know.”
Megan continued. It was her turn to reveal truths that had never been spoken. “Mom and Dad, I have something that I need to admit. I took spironolactone from the time that I was fifteen. Then I added estradiol starting in January before I left home for college in June.”
“So that’s the reason you never developed as male when you were sixteen or seventeen.”
“It kept me from growing muscles and bones. What development that I had was devoid of any testosterone. Before I started estrogen, I looked like a really tall eleven- or twelve-year-old boy.”
When I arrived at the university, they linked me up with a counselor and an endocrinologist. They adjusted my hormone levels and made absolutely sure that becoming a woman was what I needed. Because my endocrine system wasn’t ‘normal male’, the estrogen caused me to mature quickly as a girl. By the time that I saw you for the last time, I had C-cup breasts and feminine hips. I thought that there was maybe a chance that if you saw me and how sincere that I was about being myself, you could accept me.”
Tim looked at all three women and spoke quietly. “We shouldn’t have been so judgmental toward you. The other day, I had the attorney unwind the disownment.”
“I wish that I could say ‘Thank You’ and just forget this. But you can’t know the number of times that I wanted to have you at my side – the graduation from the Pre-Med program, the first time that I kissed a guy, my graduation from Medical School. There were so many things that I wanted to share. I had a wonderful woman for a best friend that I wish you could have met. She took me in and we went through a lot of life together. Susie was killed in April in a car wreck, but you would have loved her. And then there was Lara. That’s a whole other story.” Megan smiled broadly at her daughter, then looked back toward her parents. “Several years ago, I accepted Christ as my Savior, and I’ve already forgiven you. So, when I say that I’m ready to move forward, I mean it. Let’s just start over. Just don’t forget this – I still love you both and I always dreamed that this day would happen.” Looking over at her Dad, she was surprised to see tears in his normally unemotional eyes.
Michaela dabbed her eyes again. She, too, had greatly missed her daughter and had forever wondered what she looked like, how she sounded, and all else. Now it had come to pass.
After the apologies had been passed around, everyone relaxed. The four spent the rest of the evening playing catch up. The subject eventually got around to Lara.
Michaela asked, “So how did you link up with Lara? I mean, she looks enough like you to be your biological daughter. Of course, I know that couldn’t have happened.” Everyone at the table heartily laughed.
Until this time, the high school junior had taken careful mental notes, filling in some blanks for which she didn’t have answers until this evening. It’s so interesting to see Mom with her parents, Lara decided. She saw elements of both her grandparents in her mother.
“Why don’t you tell them?” Megan suggested to Lara. The teen almost jumped, being lost in her own thoughts. But inwardly, she was glad to finally have some input.
So Lara told her new grandparents the entire story, from her birth until her upcoming graduation from high school. She realized afterward that she left out her friendship with Jessie, her illness and her recent death. But there would probably be time later for that story, she decided. It didn’t take long for another opportunity to present itself.
“Lara, that was the most intelligent and well-organized story that I’ve heard in a long time. I can’t believe that all of your classmates accepted you as a girl, all the time while your Dad was trying to make you into a boy.”
“No one ever doubted me. They just accepted me as some kind of tomboy. I’m just glad that my feelings weren’t wrong. But I have to tell you, the fact that I could marry and become a Mom kind of blew my mind for a while.”
Well, you’re not the only one whose mind has been blown, the older physician thought. But he had other questions for her. If he was going to be her grandfather, then he was going to need to be completely informed about this young woman.
“By the way, what do you have any vocational ideas?” Tim asked.
Lara sadly said, “My best friend died a few weeks ago of anorexia. I’ve decided to pursue psychology and specialize in helping eating disorder victims. I took an aptitude test on Tuesday, and it showed that it would be a good fit for me.”
“Why not psychiatry like your Mom?” Michaela inquired.
Lara scrunched her face. “Ewww. And have to deal with medical school and those rounds and rotations and stuff? No thank you. Oh, and I don’t do blood very well.”
The two M.D.’s at the table burst out laughing at that last comment. Lara’s choice of vocation came as a complete surprise to Megan, but secretly, she was well pleased. She felt that Lara would do well, particularly if she pursued the specialty where she had so much passion.
The four didn’t leave the restaurant until almost 11:00. A lot was forgiven and a lot more was revealed that would be forgiven later. Megan had prayed for this virtually the entire time since becoming a Christian. Now she realized that this was the time that God had meant for it to happen.
CHAPTER 31
A little over three years later - March, 2014
Lara Phillips awakened suddenly from her deep sleep. The college junior was facing yet another day of classes.
In spite of ten hours of sleep, she was still exhausted. Sitting up, then finally standing, she wandered over to her mirror and looked into her bleary eyes. Dark circles shown underneath them. Her pajamas fell loosely from her shoulders. I guess I need to buy some smaller pajamas, she reflected. All it would take would be one look from Mom when I’m wearing these and she’d know something was wrong. Besides, I need some flannel ones to try to stay warm, she mused.
Lara had been on a strict diet for months and had lost an amount of weight that placed her well within the range of anorexia. Even though her best childhood friend had died as a result of the condition, the student kept telling herself that she wasn’t as obsessive as Jessie. I’m just getting really thin so maybe my butt won’t be so big, she told herself.
It had taken just one comment from a potential boyfriend to send Lara down the same path as her friend Jessie. She was jogging on a treadmill at the university. A mutual male friend came by and made the comment, “Wow. Great butt.” In spite of her mother’s assurances, Lara had felt uncomfortable with her posterior since she developed curves following hormone treatments that “jump started” her puberty. Back in the locker room, she looked at herself in a three-way mirror and decided that she needed to lose some weight in order to have smaller hips. She started her diet that day, and the more that she dieted, the more that she liked it. Like Jessie, she dreamed of being model thin and having men attracted to her as a result. Since she had lost so much weight, though, she elicited more stares than favorable comments due to her boniness.
Carefully, she cracked open the door to her bedroom and listened for sounds of her mother. With her weight loss, contact with her mother had to be avoided at all costs. Lara just wanted to be skinny, and this was the only way to do it. Fortunately, Megan Phillips had already gone to her office, so Lara had the townhouse to herself. Padding barefoot to the bathroom, she quickly closed the door. The dark circles and sallow cheeks disappeared somewhat as she applied her makeup for the day.
Returning to her room to get dressed, Lara chose a top, pants, and sweater from her closet that would disguise her shrunken form, particularly her bony arms. To disguise her shrunken breasts, she stuffed some tissues into her bra to take up the extra room. The top that she chose, now three sizes too large, hung loosely on her. After pulling on her pants, she carefully safety-pinned them so that they wouldn’t fall off. The sweater further hid evidence of her condition and served to keep her warmer.
Returning to her dresser, Lara chose a necklace but ignored the large number of rings that used to decorate her hands. Because of her weight loss, most of them were too large and would have merely fallen off her now-sinewy hands.
Carefully removing a notebook from her dresser, she noted the previous day’s calorie intake. In spite of a couple of extra graham crackers that she allowed herself, she still managed to stay under eight hundred calories. Good girl, she told herself. She could get by with only a half hour of running today on the treadmill at the university’s physical education building.
After putting on her shoes, Lara ran downstairs to her car and drove the short distance to the university parking lots. Fortunately, she found a space close to the classroom building which was her destination. Her class in Abnormal Psychology was challenging and sounded extremely interesting when she developed her class schedule two years previous, but now she found it boring like the rest of her life.
Making her way to her class and to her seat, she spoke to no one. Lara found solace in the fact that this was a large class and interaction was limited at best.
In the previous class session two days earlier, the heating thermostat had become stuck and everyone in the room except her had complained of the eighty degree temperature. In spite of the heat, Lara still felt cold. With her extra layers, Lara hoped to have some semblance of warmth.
Once the lecture started, Lara once again fought sleep. It seems like I want to sleep all the time, she chided herself as she struggled to maintain attention. Because of her inability to maintain focus, her grades had begun to suffer and she kept poking herself mentally in an attempt to stay motivated.
But in truth, only one thing kept her motivated – her weight loss. Within days, she told herself, I’ll be down where I need to be. The only things that mattered any longer were the number of calories that she consumed, the amount of time that she spent exercising, and if she had any remaining fat on her hips. Lara kept telling herself, I’ll never be fat again.
Finally, the class ended, and with as much eagerness as she could muster, Lara headed for the physical education building. Changing from her outfit into a form fitting jogging suit in the weight room, she once again looked over her body for remaining fat. With disgust, she looked at some hanging skin from her upper arm and mistaking it for fat, told herself that she still had a ways to go to get to perfection. On the way out of the door from the locker room, she weighed herself (which she did multiple times per day) and cheered inwardly as the scale showed 87 pounds. Finally, I’m getting somewhere, Lara told herself. Maybe I can get into a size 0 the next time I go to the store.
In spite of her enthusiasm for exercise, it was difficult to maintain a sufficient pace on the treadmill. The lack of calories and her low body mass took its toll on her ability to maintain her normal running pace.
While on the machine, a fellow male student smiled at her. Looking over her tiny arms and legs, he grinned and said, “You look really great! You must have worked hard to get that great bod!” Stupid jerk, she thought, saying “Thanks!” without smiling but moving her eyes back to straight ahead.
Once she finished her run, Lara alit from the treadmill and returned to the locker room. She didn’t have another class until later in the day, so it would give her sufficient time to return home and shower. Oh, and maybe get a tiny snack. Hunger had become a constant companion and to be without it meant that she had eaten too much.
Once home, Lara stopped in the kitchen of the townhouse. She had allowed herself two hundred calories for lunch and chose to get a few crackers and some carrots as her “lunch”. After eating these few things quickly, Lara headed to her room to check her form. Maybe I can get another look at how I’m doing. After stripping off her clothes, Lara admired her bony body. I’m just about there, telling herself that maybe a few more pounds here and there and she would be fine. It didn’t matter that she told herself that same thing twenty pounds ago. Again, Lara ignored the history of her best friend. She thought, I won’t get in trouble, I won’t. I’ll be fine.
While the student was admiring her continuing weight loss, Megan had quietly slipped into the townhouse. The psychiatrist had a rare break from work and had decided to go home for a quick lunch. Sensing that Lara was around, but not immediately hearing her, she decided to go and check on her daughter. Because of the timing of their comings and goings, it had been weeks since she had seen her daughter, or so it seemed. First tapping on Lara’s bedroom door, Megan opened up the bedroom door to find Lara naked in front of her mirror. Glancing upon her daughter’s anorexic body, she gasped and began half-talking, half yelling at her daughter.
“What have you been doing? Didn’t you learn something from what happened to Jessie?”
“Mom, it’s OK. I just lost a little of bit of weight.”
“You call that A LITTLE bit? You’re anorexic! Look at you. Your arms and legs are sticks. And I wondered why I found a bunch of hair in the sink the other day in your bathroom. And the way that you’ve been sneaking around so that I won’t see you. OK, you’re going to the eating disorders unit right now. This has to end.”
“Mom, no, I’m fine. I’m really fine.” She looked down at herself, noting the ribs showing, shrunken stomach and thin, bony legs.
“No, you’re not. You’re going if I have to get some rope and tie you up. Now get your things together so that I can take you to Metro.”
“What about school? I’ll lose the whole semester’s work!”
“Look, you should have come to me before you started this ‘diet’ of yours. The fact that you were ‘fat’ was just in your head. We could have talked this out before you got this far. If you keep going, you’re going to be dead, just like your friend. Think about that. Do you want to die?”
“Mom, I’m not going to die!”
“Lara, get dressed. We’re going. You don’t have a choice. The more you fight me, the harder I’m going to push back.”
“MOM! NO!!!” Lara screamed at the top of her lungs, simultaneously stepping backward away from her mother. Not sensing where she was headed, Lara tripped on a leg of her bed and fell onto the floor.
The slumbering college student jumped after her fall in the dream, awakening her. Sitting straight up in bed, it took her a moment to fully realize where she was. It was Saturday, and she was home in the townhouse. Looking at her hands and her arms, nothing had changed. She was normal. The whole ‘morning’ had been nothing but a nightmare.
Lara’s sadness led to tears falling down her face. Her dream brought back memories of the last time that she had encountered Jessie in the hospital. And she remembered what she would be doing in two days.
Lara had entered the local university and was majoring in Clinical Psychology. Thanks to her high grades and talent, she had been chosen by her professor and faculty advisor to begin a very limited form of clinical practice. This would help to evaluate Lara’s future prospects as a psychologist, and would also offer her insight into what “the real world” might look like. Because of Lara’s interest in eating disorders, the professors had chosen her to moderate a group session in the eating disorders unit. The group would consist of eight patients and it would be up to her to guide and direct them. Even though Lara wanted to do this for her life’s work, she didn’t know if she was ready to try her hand. Memories of Jessie and her troubles kept swirling in her mind. In spite of assurances that most of her activity would be to listen, the thought that she would be guiding therapy with a group frightened her.
Megan heard her crying and immediately rushed to her room. She had been awake for a while and was reading in the adjoining bedroom.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” There was genuine alarm in the voice of the psychiatrist. Megan sat down at the foot of Lara’s bed.
Lara was less frantic, but still agitated. “Mom, I dreamed that I was anorexic. It was all so real. I woke up really, really tired. I remember looking in the mirror and seeing dark circles under my eyes. My face was so shrunken. Then I went to class where I was cold and I almost fell asleep. Afterwards, I went running on a treadmill for thirty minutes and I remember seeing myself in the mirror. My arms and my legs were little bitty. I came home and had a few crackers and some carrots for lunch. There was a notebook where I kept track of my calories. Then you found me and started yelling that you were taking me to the ED unit. It was like Jessie all over again, except it was me.”
The mother hugged her daughter and held her tightly. “What’s going on? What’s bothering you so much?” she asked calmly while looking straight into her face. It had been too long since the two had intimate communication, Megan decided.
“Dr. Brooks asked me to moderate a group session in the ED unit. I’m scared. I mean, what if I say something wrong and it messes up somebody?”
“Dear, there are two people behind a one-way mirror that are watching and listening the whole time. You won’t be completely by yourself. Besides that, you’ll be mostly just asking questions and letting them talk. You told me yourself that you watched some videos of them in class.”
“I know, but it’s just leading one that scares me.”
“And who’s the brave counselor who brought around her best friend to Christ just before she died? And that girl that penned some high school newspaper columns that got you pegged as ‘Dear Lara’? You can do this!”
“I’m just nervous.”
“Don’t you have to meet with the ‘real’ moderator before you see them?”
“Yes.”
“Just tell him or her what you’re concerned about. Let them guide you. And learn. When you’re helping someone with their health, be it a gall bladder or their mind, it’s all called practice. You have to learn it by doing it.”
“I know. I guess I just needed to share.”
“Been there, done that. Lots. I know how you feel.” Lara began to look down, but Megan sensed what her daughter was doing and lifted her head up by the chin. “But you’re really smart and quick. You’ll be fine. Let’s pray for you, too”. Megan said a prayer for her daughter, and by the time it ended, Lara’s fears had diminished.
Monday morning came, and while concerned, Lara was relaxed and confident. As promised, she met with a Psychology professor and the regular moderator. Noting that her attitude was positive and upbeat, they agreed to let Lara proceed as planned.
But as soon as the college student walked in the room, the sight of seven anorexic young women ranging in age from 12 to 22 took her aback temporarily. If she had not seen Jessie, it would have been a visual shock. These are far better off than Jesse ever was, Lara kept reminding herself. But here wasn’t time to think about it. It was time for the session to begin.
“Hi, everyone”, Lara said as she sat down with all of the patients. Everyone sat on the floor, as the soft carpet was easier on bony posteriors than chairs, plus it was more informal.
She started, “I’m Lara Phillips. I’m a junior in Clinical Psychology, and I’ll be your moderator today. You’re probably asking ‘Why is she here today instead of Dr. Weathers?’ I’m majoring in Clinical Psychology, and I plan to get my PhD in it.” Lara paused for a moment, and the vision of her last evening with Jessie flashed across her vision. But she quickly recovered and continued. “My BFF died three years ago of anorexia. I told myself after she died, I would do anything to help people like her. So I plan on doing just that after I graduate.” Looking around the room once more, she calmly stated, “Why don’t we get started? I understand that a few of you have made enough progress that you’ll be leaving soon.” Glancing at their name tags, she smiled and asked, “Maddie, why don’t you share with us what made a difference for you?”
A lively discussion ensued, and before Lara knew it, the ninety minutes were up. While she was able to effectively moderate the discussions, she found it to be a learning experience more than anything. She hadn’t completely understood the mental ramifications of anorexia and bulimia. The group helped her to more fully grasp just how difficult treatment could be. Instead of driving her away, though, Lara was more determined than ever to graduate and to help those with the conditions.
CHAPTER 32
February, 2015
Lara was given the opportunity to do one-on-one counseling with one of Metro’s Eating Disorder Unit patients. The college senior would be monitored by video camera and microphone in case that the session went awry for any reason.
The professor and doctor in charge of the program didn’t make it easy for her, though. One of their toughest cases was Kyndall Murray. The fifteen-year-old had suffered abuse at the hand of her biological parents. The state took her from them at age seven, and Kyndall had since been shuttled in and out of various foster homes.
Called “Tubby” as a nickname by her current foster mother, she began counting calories and exercising extremely. She wasn’t extremely overweight to begin with – around 175 pounds – but carried most of the extra weight in her stomach and hips.
As Kyndall lost weight, she expected to garner more favorable attention from her foster parents. Unfortunately, all that they were interested in was how much money that they could collect from the state for the care of Kyndall and her two foster brothers.
However, the situation at school did change. As she lost weight, Kyndall garnered school friendships with several other students her age. She was able to go to the mall with other groups of girls and was able to finally date a boy. She had the positive experiences that she had been seeking her entire life. One of her friends, Destiny Booker, enjoyed a tiny build and with diet control, kept her size to a 1. Kyndall began to envy her. It made no difference that Kyndall’s build was substantially larger. She wasn’t “large”, just “normal”, but to someone who craved friendship, it made no difference.
Kyndall kept on dieting. In spite of acceptance from others, she still had a poor self-image, the product of her drug dealer birth mother and by being cared for by foster home “parents” who truly cared little about her. Finally, she fainted twice in school within the space of a week. This earned her a trip to the nurse’s office, where the scale showed the truth. For someone her height of five-six, she should have weighed somewhere between 115 and 135 pounds. Instead, the scale showed that she weighed 88. The nurse was shocked when Kyndall removed her top to reveal her ribs and collar bone sticking out from her emaciated body.
It was only two days later that insurance approval was given for a stay in the eating disorders unit. Kyndall attempted to quit eating entirely after admission to the unit, so it wasn’t long until they began force-feeding her by tying her down in bed and administering high-calorie intravenous feedings. While this stabilized her weight, it left her feeling out of control and angry, and it led to further mistrust of adults.
It was into this scenario that Lara was selected to talk to Kyndall.
The second Tuesday in February, Lara had an opportunity to read over the “chart” for Kyndall when she met in a hospital conference room with her professor, Dr. Jim Welty, and Dr. Ken Luther, who was in charge of Kyndall’s case at Metro. Luther had purposely given Lara a hard case in order to test her resourcefulness and persistence. Fortunately, Lara had an abundance of both and as she read the information, she asked Luther several questions. When asked by Welty what she intended to do about Kyndall, she said, “It’s time to think outside the box.” This was met with a look of surprise by both of her superiors.
She explained, “OK, we have a patient who has virtually no support outside her friends. If I can’t reach her tomorrow, then I intend to make a field trip to her school.”
“What do you intend to do by going to her school?”
“Round up her friends. I was fifteen and spent the better part of a week here. Since my parents had died, I had no other support group than my friends. I wasn’t suicidal, but I was in a major funk until my friends started showing up. That showed me that life goes on with or without me. It was up to me to make a choice. It’s time that Kyndall make that choice, too.”
Welty raised his eyebrows and said, “That is outside the box, Miss Phillips. But I don’t disagree.”
Luther just nodded. “We’ll see you tomorrow. Didn’t we say 4:00?”
Lara gave the two a serious look, and quietly agreed, “Yes, sir.”
After this, Luther got up and left the room, thanking the two.
Welty remained seated, but added, “OK, Doctor, thank you for your time.” Looking back at Lara, he said, “I think we’ll be here a few more minutes.”
After Luther left the room, Welty asked Lara why she wanted to use two sessions.
“I have to put the foundation in place. First thing, she needs to trust me.”
“How do you plan to do that?”
“Share my experience with my best friend. Be upfront with her. Tell her that if she keeps being so stubborn, she dies.”
“That’s pretty threatening. Don’t you think you’re being too harsh?”
“I’ve known girls like this. They’re tough. They’re like a cactus – they get along without the water of human love for a long time. But no matter how tough the exterior, they want to live more than anything else. Don’t worry. I’m not going to come across like a jerk or something. But I’m not going in there to say, ‘You poor pitiful girl. Now let’s eat, sweety.’”
Welty replied with a smile, “I know your mother. It’s obvious that you’ve been listening to her.”
Lara smiled back. “Apples never fall far from the tree, Dr. Welty.”
“OK, I look forward to seeing how you do tomorrow. I’ll be behind the mirror. You know what to do if things get too tangled for you.”
“Yes, sir. And believe me, if I get in too deep, I’m not going to drown, nor will I let Kyndall drown.”
The two traded thanks and left the conference room.
Lara drove back to the townhouse and after parking the car in the garage, ran upstairs at top speed. Tossing her other things down, she grabbed her Bible from her room, walked directly to a recliner in the living room.
While she appeared calm outwardly, inside she was unsure of herself. Lara knew that reaching Kyndall would be difficult. And mistakes couldn’t be undone and forgotten. Seeking solace, she spent an hour reading and praying, then found herself calm and no longer nervous or unsure.
The college student mentioned to her mother that she would be seeing a “real patient” the next day, but didn’t provide any details.
She awoke the next morning refreshed. At last, she was ready to actually use, at least in an elementary way, the skills that she had been taught. Jessie’s death will not be in vain, she vowed repeatedly.
After two classes and some homework, Lara drove from the university over to Metro Hospital. Darn, I wish I had Mom’s old parking place, she thought, having to park several hundred feet from the entrance to the Mental Health Unit. Sometimes, she remembered her first trip in the BMW and the wonder of coming to the townhouse to live. Now, it seemed almost like a lifetime ago.
Before she knew it, she was led to a room with cameras and microphones mounted in the ceiling. The equipment would be used by Luther and Welty to monitor her. Unknown to Lara, her mother joined Welty and Luther in the adjoining room.
Clad in some very loose clothes, Kyndall was led into the room by a nurse. At five-four, she was a bit on the short side, but even with her illness, Lara could envision her being an attractive girl if she would just return to a normal weight. Lara introduced herself and noted the ‘Yeah, whaddaya want?’ facial expression in the patient.
But Lara started the conversation after the two were seated.
“Kyndall, I’m Lara. I’m a student majoring in Clinical Psychology. Dr. Luther and my professor asked me to talk to you today.”
Kyndall shrugged her shoulders without saying a word.
Lara continued, “I lost my BFF to anorexia a few years ago. She died in my arms. I don’t want that to happen to anybody else, ever. So I’m here to try to help you.”
Kyndall straightened, then leaned forward in her chair. “Why do you want to try to help me? No one else around here cares anything about me. I mean, it’s like home, if you can call it that. My foster parents could care less whether I live or die.”
Lara got an aggravated expression on her face and fired back. “Kyndall, there are a lot of people in the world who care about you. Why do you think that no one cares?”
The patient looked down at the floor. You’re hiding your real feelings, Lara thought.
“Well no one ever said that. All I heard all the time that I was growing up was ‘Chunky’ or ‘Fatty’. But you know what the worst one was. It was my foster mother calling me ‘Tubby’. Yeah, I was a little heavy. But I wasn’t like some three hundred pound girl who sweats just walking down the hall.”
Lara switched to a sympathetic facial expression. I have to get her to trust me to lead her thoughts, she thought.
The student took Kyndall’s hand in hers and talked directly to her face. I’m not going to let you look down, she thought.
“I’m sorry that your foster mother called you that. I’ve seen your ‘before’ pictures. I agree with you. You weren’t morbidly obese or anything. And no one should have ever teased you for the way that you look. But look, it happens. People say things that hurt us, and we have to move on. We have to tell ourselves, ‘I’m not that, I’m better than that’. You have to decide that you like yourself regardless of what you look like.”
“But everyone ignored me until I lost weight.”
“Kyndall, people are shallow. They think that by losing weight, that you’re more attractive somehow. I know you didn’t think that. Did you suddenly have a different personality when you finally reached ‘skinny’?
“I was more of a bitch. I mean, I was hungry a lot. But I don’t think I was much different.”
“My point is this. We have to decide that we’re awesome, that it doesn’t matter to us what we look like on the outside. We have to love ourselves inside.”
“But what if no one else loves us but ourselves?”
“Kyndall, there will always be someone who will love you. How about your friends?”
“They don’t care. I mean, why did they start caring after I got skinny? Why didn’t they care when I was fat?”
“Kids have to get past the outer appearance of a person before they reach out. That reflects the ages of you and your friends. Once you changed appearance into this outwardly pretty girl, then they reached out. As an adult, it starts to get better. People are still judgmental, unfortunately, but not as much.”
Kyndall shook her head up and down. Maybe I’m getting through to her, Lara mused.
“I’m going to have a surprise for you in a couple of days that’s going to prove that people care. If I can show you that people care about you, will you work on caring for you? You’re not going to lick this thing until you begin to like yourself. Look, I want you to get well.” Remembering Jessie, Lara began be even more adamant. “You don’t deserve to die. You’re better than that. You’re a great person, a pretty person inside and out. Will you work with me on this?”
Kyndall shook her head.
“OK, I’m going to work toward that surprise that I talked about. I’ll see you in a couple of days. In the meantime, remember what I said. Be you. Love yourself for who you are. You’re Kyndall, a person who can beat this thing. If you can beat this, you can help others beat it. Think about that. You’re so worth it.”
“Nobody’s ever told me that. Nobody’s ever said, ‘I love you’ or ‘I care about you.’ Why did you have to be the one?” A couple of tears began to run down Kyndall’s face.
“I don’t know. But you know what? If I came in here and didn’t share the truth with you, I wouldn’t be a very good counselor. And I haven’t slaved away in my classes the last four years to be a bad one.” Lara paused momentarily. “And I’m not going to lose anyone else in my life to eating disorders if I can help it. You can beat this thing. You don’t have cancer or a heart condition or some other physical illness. Yours is right up there.” Lara pointed to Kyndall’s head with her right index finger. “We can change that, together. And you won’t be sick any more. Yeah, there’s people who are still going to be mean to you. None of us can avoid that. But we can work together and develop ways for you to defeat those evil thoughts.”
Kyndall sniffed. “OK.”
Lara told her, “I’ll be back on Friday. I love you, Kyndall.”
Kyndall reached out to Lara, and the student reciprocated. “I love you, too, Lara. Thank you.”
Lara held her for a bit, then released her hug. “Bye-bye, Kyndall.”
Kyndall looked back with sadness and said, “Bye, Lara. I’ll see you.”
Lara exited the room and went down the hall to where Welty and Luther were monitoring the visit.
Luther spoke to her first. “Hi, Lara. Good job. I can’t wait to see what happens when you bring her friends in. You may be able to do what the rest of us haven’t, at least so far.”
“Age difference. Kids trust other young people. I mean, I’m not that much older than her, so she can identify with me. It’s one card I knew that I could play.”
Welty spoke up. “I’m proud of you. You’re going to do well. Lara, you were meant to do this.”
The student beamed at the two of them. “Next time, I’ll be back with her friends. I plan to have them bring cards, balloons, and flowers, whatever. I want Kyndall to be reminded every single second of how people care.”
“What time do you want to do this?”
“7:00 Friday evening. That way, the kids’ parents can bring them here, since they’re too you young to drive.”
“Sounds good to me.” Welty said, with Luther shaking his head. “See you then.”
Lara went to her car and said a prayer of thanks. The session had gone much better than she could have ever anticipated. The student would never again doubt herself. I may make some wrong turns, but I’ll never be defeated, she told herself.
Early the next morning, Lara put in a call to Kyndall’s counselor, who agreed to help Lara collect cards and small gifts of appreciation from fellow students. Also, Lara arranged to speak with the students that afternoon.
Just a scant six hours later, at 2:00, Lara talked to the Kyndall’s classmates. She explained her background and what she hoped to do for Kyndall. When she asked for help in providing cards, flowers, drawings, and other reminders of her school, she was met with enthusiasm.
The budding psychologist asked for volunteers to deliver the items on Friday evening and five students responded. She breathed a sigh of relief, as the visitor limit was five and Lara didn’t really want to pick who got left behind.
Friday evening came, and promptly at 7:00, Lara met the five students in the lobby of the Eating Disorders unit. Taking them to an adjoining conference room, she thanked them for showing up. Lara also briefed them on appropriate and not-so-appropriate comments for Kyndall. Then it was time for the group to move to a holding area where Kyndall would be brought in.
Once the patient was brought in, a joyous pandemonium of cheers erupted. Tears began falling from Kyndall’s eyes as she greeted her classmates and looked at their balloons and signs. As each one brought their cards to her, she read each one with rapt emotion.
Finally, after finishing the notes and cards, Kyndall looked up to the group and choked up, saying, “I didn’t know that anyone cared about me. I don’t know how I can thank all of you. I just know that because of everything that you did tonight, I want to live. I want to go back to school and be with everybody again. Thank you!” Then she broke down into sobs of joy as the group surrounded her and began to give her hugs.
In the monitoring room, Welty felt tears come to his eyes. His student had successfully reached a patient and while complete healing for Kyndall was still weeks away, the ice had been broken.
After the students left and Kyndall had been returned to her room, Lara returned to the monitoring room where she knew Welty was waiting on her. Dr. Luther had already left, satisfied that Lara had completed what she set out to do.
“Did I pass, Dr. Welty?” Lara asked, mildly nervous at the professional reaction to her out-of-the-box ideas.
“Hell, yes, you passed, girl. Good job! I’m proud of you!”
“Thank you! I was afraid that I had gone a little overboard.”
“Whatever works. Sometimes you have to take a rubber mallet to a tough nut instead of a big hammer. You did really well. I think Kyndall’s on the right road now.”
“Can I keep in contact with Kyndall? I mean, I’d kind of like to continue to be her friend.”
“You bet you can.” Having another thought, Welty paused. “But talk to Dr. Luther to make sure. You’re technically not a professional, yet, so it should be all right.”
“Thank you, sir!” Glancing at her watch, she realized that she better get back to the townhouse. Lara was emotionally exhausted from the week, but was smiling nonetheless. “Well, I’ll see you Monday!”
“Bye, Lara!”
On the way back to the car, she said a silent prayer. God had blessed her with victory on her first assignment.
After arriving at her car, she opened the door and quickly sat down. Then Lara began talking out loud. To anyone else, it appeared that she was talking to herself. But to her, Jessie never died, and it was time to share a victory.
"Jessie, I promised you a long time ago that your death wouldn't be in vain. I couldn't save you, but I told you that I would try to help out anyone whose path I crossed. Well, today, it was number one. I wish you were around so I could hug you. Yet, it feels like you're right here. So here goes."
Raising her hand with her fingers far apart, but with tears forming in her eyes, she made a mock slap, stopping suddenly in mid-air. "High five! BFFs forever!"
This would not be the last time that she would celebrate with her late friend. Jessie would remain in a part of Lara's heart forever.
CHAPTER 33
June through December, 2015
Megan grew tired of the hospital routine and in late 2013 opened her own practice initially on weekends and evenings. By early 2015, her practice was doing well enough that she resigned from the hospital to pursue it full-time. While she saw patients a couple of evenings a week, she no longer had the burden of giving up her weekends.
The psychiatrist also enjoyed a close relationship with her parents. They accepted her as their daughter and in spite of all of the years of no communication, Tim and Michaela became part of her life once again. Better still, they relished having Lara as their granddaughter. When Lara’s Corolla S began to suffer from major transmission issues, Michaela purchased another vehicle for her.
Lara graduated from college in May, 2015, magna cum laude. In spite of being offered scholarships at several graduate schools, she elected to attend graduate school and stay in the same city with her mother and grandparents.
The young woman had a succession of boyfriends, virtually all of whom she broke up with when they demanded sex. Lara had decided long ago to follow Megan’s example of ‘no sex before marriage’. But finally, a serious candidate for marriage appeared in Jake Terrill.
He was in medical school to become an otolaryngologist, or better known as an ear, nose, and throat doctor. She knew that this violated hers and Megan’s promise to never date a doctor or a doctor in training. But somehow, this relationship seemed right in spite of a vow.
Jake was the third generation in his family to become a doctor, and after having meeting his parents, Lara was convinced that it was possible to be a doctor and not have a huge ego. At six feet, two inches, he was some six inches taller than Lara, but not so much to be a distraction. Jake’s red hair contrasted with Lara’s brunette – at least when Lara wasn’t putting blond highlights in it. His slender build was a perfect match for the young woman. .
His parents were very happily married, as well, in spite of careers that were hugely different. As a Christian, too, Jake did not pressure Lara to dive into bed with him.
As Jake and Lara began dating steadily with increasing seriousness, Megan found herself jealous of her daughter. She still wanted a man with which to share her life. There were many, many nights, especially after Lara had started college, that she went home to the empty townhouse and inwardly coveted a mate.
Megan’s desire slipped out in a conversation with her daughter. Lara had seemingly sage advice for her. “Mom, I hate to sound trite but I prayed a lot before Jake came along. I didn’t want just some guy that wanted to take me to bed on the first or second date. I wanted someone who would value me. Thank God, Jake is that kind of guy. I think you oughta pray about it and ask God to bring you someone that can accept you for your past. I’m still mad at Mike Templeton. I don’t understand people like him.”
“I think that’s pretty good advice, Miss Phillips. Sometimes, we can’t see our own forest for the trees.”
Megan inwardly still grieved for Matt Belwick. Scarcely a week went by that she didn’t encounter a place where the two had spent time together or even just met for a few minutes. But Lara was right. She was going to have to let the hurts of the past become just that – the past. So Megan began to pray for everything that she sought in a potential mate. She wanted no more hurts like Michael had inflicted on her.
A few weeks later, Megan was attending a medical conference at Metro Hospital, and not looking where she going, slammed head on into another doctor. Sam Willis was a Professor of Medicine in the medical school at the local university.
The collision caused Megan’s glasses to come off. She bumped him yet again when both of them simultaneously reached down for them. This resulted in giggles and laughs from both of them, with Willis commenting, “Are you being a klutz on purpose, Doctor?”
Megan smiled at him, “Doctor, I don’t have to try. I was born a klutz.”
That broke the ice. When Sam found out that she was single, his heart quickened. Also a Christian, Willis was in the same place in his life, longing for a mate and not really knowing how to proceed. Is this an opportunity, he questioned. Sam was eight years older than Megan and had never been married. Prior to becoming a professor, he was ‘married to his job’ in his words. Like Megan, he was ready to settle down and share his life with someone else and make his job a lower priority.
A few phone calls followed, and finally the two agreed to meet for dinner. Sam picked up Megan at her townhouse on a Saturday evening. He was purposefully vague on where he was taking her, telling her only to “dress like you’re going to a rodeo”.
A rodeo, Megan thought. Um-huh. Either this guy has a sense of humor or we’re going somewhere out in the ‘real country’. Since it was cold out, Megan elected to dress in jeans, a flannel shirt, and her riding boots. To top off her outfit, she chose a long tan leather coat. If this isn’t country enough, then so be it, she decided.
“Real country” turned out to be true, as Sam drove Megan to a barbeque restaurant in a small town an hour and a half from the city.
The two used the drive to get better acquainted, and by the time that they arrived, Megan was already having fun with him. She smiled and laughed as they left Sam’s luxury car parked on a dirt and gravel street next to the metal building that housed the restaurant.
Sam unfolded his six feet, four inch body from the car. His height, combined with his stocky build, made it necessary for him to drive something larger than most. Going around to the passenger’s side, he opened the door for Megan. As she got out of the car, she experienced something that had rarely happened – feeling small next to her date. Wow, I can even wear my heels with Sam, Megan decided.
It was obvious that Sam had been here before. He immediately knew where to go, and took Megan’s hand to help her over the railroad ties that separated the entrance from the gravel.
Inside, the smell of the different meats was almost overwhelming. Picnic tables of various sizes were scattered over the concrete floored seating area. Instead of being served at the table, the patrons lined up under a large “Order Here” sign. Next to it was a drink station with several soft drink selections, and next to that was another station with a large “Pick-Up Here” sign. Overhead, several speakers played country music.
After ordering, the pair picked out a small table in a far corner, away from the loudest music and the crowd.
The pair sat and talked until the restaurant closed three hours later. Each of them enjoyed their evening together, so much so that each regretted that it had to end. It was obvious to both that their relationship would be much more than “one and done”.
As the psychiatrist began to examine the possibilities of a relationship, she realized that his hours were much less demanding and more regular than most doctors. That meant more opportunities like this, she reflected.
Within the next few weeks, Megan and Sam had more dates. On one date, Sam had invited the psychiatrist to his home, a sprawling 4,000 square foot house in the suburbs. When she commented on the house, he admitted that it was much more than he needed, but that a real estate broker friend had talked him into it as an “investment”.
On a large Thermador range in the kitchen, Sam had grilled filet mignon for both of them. He had also prepared a salad, steamed some vegetables, and even made a loaf of bread in a bread machine.
“Sam, this is fabulous. I know that this is stereotyping, but I can’t believe that a male doctor could do this well.”
Sam laughed. “I’ve been told that before. But my Mom and Dad both worked, and when I was in high school, they paid me to clean house and prepare the meals as an alternative to having a job. So I’ve had a lot of practice.”
Megan was happy and comfortable when she was around the professor. She found herself relaxed and at ease with him, and decided that there really wasn’t anything that she couldn’t share with him. Except for one thing.
Sensing that things were beginning to get serious, Megan forced herself to consider how she was going to approach “the talk”. If this one goes as badly as it did with Michael, I’m forgetting about dating forever, she told herself.
It was a rainy night when Megan and Sam met for coffee after Megan’s last counseling appointment. The psychiatrist purposely picked out a location close to where she parked, in case that a quick escape was necessary. But before their meeting, she chided herself, once again citing her favorite phrase, “Oh, ye of little faith.” She asked God to give her the right words and explanations.
She arrived first, but within a few minutes, the professor arrived. Unexpectedly, Sam kissed Megan lightly on the cheek as he arrived. Nervously, she smiled and reciprocated.
After ordering and receiving their coffee, the two made their way to one of the back tables, away from the entrance and away from the other patrons.
Immediately after sitting down, Sam could tell that Megan needed to talk. Oh, great, he thought, I’m about to get dumped. But nothing could have been further from the truth.
Reluctantly, she started her speech. “Sam, there’s something that you need to know before we go any further.” Pausing momentarily, she looked in Sam’s eyes. There was only curiosity, and unlike her attempts with Matt and Michael, Sam didn’t make a joke about it.
She continued, sighing as she spoke. “I’m trans, Sam. I was born a boy. I had full surgery at age 22, so I’ve been a woman for a long time. I accepted Christ as a woman. Of course, I can’t have children, and at our age, I don’t think that would be a problem.” Megan’s words were spoken faster and faster with her nervousness and Sam wanted her to stop and calm down. He already knew Megan’s story, having perused her history on the Internet.
“Megan.” He reached down and took her hand with a firm grip. Looking straight into her eyes, he continued, “I know. It doesn’t matter. I know that you’re a woman, through and through. In fact, the way that I look at things, you had a birth defect that was fixed. Big deal.”
Pausing for a moment, the two of them traded serious looks. Sam thought that he detected Megan’s eyes starting to mist, so he hurried his next thoughts.
Quietly, Sam said, “Megan, I love you. There’s never been a woman whose spirit is like yours. I think God has had a hand in our meeting. I know that’s the case for me.”
Sam continued to hold her hand and look into her eyes as he finished. Megan was shaking and as she responded, her voice quivered. “I love you, too, Sam. And yeah, you’ve been an answer to prayer.”
They didn’t leave the coffee house for some time.
As with Megan and Sam, Jake and Lara became closer and closer. In an odd moment, the two couples encountered each other at a local mall one Saturday. For Jake and Sam, it was an “OMG” moment, as the two recognized each other immediately. Sam had taught Jake a year earlier, and the two had become friends outside the classroom, having had lunch together several times. Jake vocationally looked to Sam much as a son looked to a father. But the realization that they were dating a mother and daughter was almost laughable to both.
After their encounter at the mall, Sam and Jake had lunch together a few times to ostensibly “compare notes”. Sam wanted to remind Jake of the life of a doctor, particularly one who had not yet finished his specialty. Lara would have to provide a living for both of them, and the long hours of a specialty resident would mean significant time apart. There would also be the question of when Lara would finish school. But Jake and Lara had already decided that it was workable, that their love could handle the stress with God’s help.
After a time, it became apparent that Jake was going to marry Lara, and Sam was going to marry Megan. It was only a matter of when the men were going to ask the ladies “the question”.
Jake and Sam met yet again for lunch. This time, they discussed the question of when each was going to “pop the question”. Since it was already after Thanksgiving, the two wanted to hurry and “pop the question” before Christmas. Because the two women were so close, they decided that they had to do it the same evening, preferably close to the same time so that neither Lara nor Megan would feel slighted.
The two men made their plans, and the evening soon came where each was to take his future wife to different, high class fine restaurants for dinner. Both had bought rings and were ready. To Lara and Megan, it seemed to be just another date, in spite of their quiet speculation that things were getting close to a conclusion.
Jake handled “the big evening” with aplomb. Before having dinner, he handed off the ring to the person who was to be their server and asked him to dunk it in the water before filling the glass. Jake knew the restaurant and the fact that they used frosted glasses for water, thus making it harder to see.
While Jake and Lara were looking at their menus, Lara stuck a straw in the glass. When it didn’t reach all the way to the bottom, she looked down to see something in the bottom of the glass that didn’t look like ice.
“Jake, ewww, there’s something in my water. Could you have them bring me another glass?”
“Em, honey, it’s not just a bug or anything. You need to move your straw and take a closer look.”
Lara’s heart began pounding, as she guessed what it was. After she took another drink, she quietly shrieked. “Oh, my God, Jake!” Using the straw, she carefully fished the ring from the bottom of the water glass. Meanwhile, Jake carefully got up from his chair and kneeling before her, began his proposal.
“Lara Phillips, will you be my wife, the one I want to be with until the day that the Lord calls me home?”
“Oh, yes, oh, yes!!” Throwing her arms around his neck, the couple celebrated with a kiss. Meanwhile, she slipped the ring onto her finger. Their dinner became celebratory, and the restaurant obliged by providing a large chocolate dessert with a lit “birthday” candle.
Meanwhile, across town at another restaurant, the same thing was going on with Megan and Sam. The older doctor, however, decided to keep the ring himself and bring it out only after he asked Megan to marry him.
Megan and Sam entered the restaurant, and Megan could tell that the professor was nervous about something. It was opposite of the coffee house when the psychiatrist “outed” herself to Sam. She wondered what was going on. Could this be “the night” that he would ask for Megan’s hand? No, it’s too soon, he probably just wants to give me some kind of gift, she told herself.
After ordering, Sam and Megan began to make casual conversation. But when a lull in the conversation occurred, Sam reached for his pocket and palming the engagement ring, began his proposal..
“Megan Phillips, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, however much time that God gives us.”
He exposed the ring so that Megan could see it. Her eyes practically bugged out as she looked first at the ring, then at Sam’s face.
Megan began to tear up as Sam asked her, “Doctor Megan Phillips, will you marry me?”
By this time, her throat had tightened so that she could barely whisper. “Yes, yes!”
The celebration for Sam and Megan waited until they were back in Sam’s car, then Megan delivered a huge and passionate kiss to Sam on the lips. “I love you,” she whispered, “and I’m keeping you forever, you softie, you.”
A few minutes later, Megan heard her cell phone buzz in her purse indicating a message. Picking it up, she noticed on the screen that it was from Lara. “Jake asked me to marry him! I said yes!”
Megan thought to herself, good grief, Sam and Jake planned this together.
Megan told Sam as she looked down at the phone, “Excuse me, it’s Lara. I need to text her back.”
Sam asked, “Are you gonna give her the big news?”
Grinning at him, she coyly asked, “Did you and Jake plan this together so that Lara and I wouldn’t be disappointed?”
Looking down, the professor answered, “I plead the Fifth.”
Megan laughed, “You guys are a mess. I have a feeling that you two aren’t done yet, either.” Then she replied to her daughter’s text, writing, “Congratulations! I have news, too. You weren’t the only one to answer “yes” to a question tonight.” After pressing the Send button, she couldn’t wait until her daughter replied to her mother’s news.
It was less than a minute later that “WHAAATTTT? You’re kidding!” appeared on the display. Jake and Sam had managed to make a mother and daughter both very, very happy in the same evening.
After appropriate celebrations with their men, Megan and Lara were dropped off back at the townhouse. Jake dropped off Lara first, but only ten minutes later, Sam dropped off Megan at the townhouse.
Lara retreated to her bedroom in case that Megan came in with Sam to wish him goodnight. But Sam and Megan took care of things in Sam’s car, and Megan calmly made her way to the front door and after punching in the code to unlock the door, entered it.
“Lara?” Megan called from the bottom of the stairs that led to the second, main level.
Flinging her bedroom door open, Lara shouted, “Mom?”
“Just me”, Megan replied.
Lara and Megan met at the top of the stairs. Both held out their left hands and said almost simultaneously, “Look at my ring!” The two then broke down in laughter.
In spite of their weariness, the pair was too excited to sleep. Though the initial ecstasy of comparing engagement rings had worn off, the two were still thrilled that they had been asked to marry their gentlemen in the same evening.
The more that arrangements and finances for individual ceremonies were discussed, the more overwhelmed they became. Finally, Lara broke the mood by saying, “Why don’t we get married in a double ceremony? You know, one wedding venue, one set of flowers, one reception, but two cakes, two ministers if you want, it just makes sense.”
“Now wait a minute. There’s something else to be considered here. You know, like the men? What will they think?”
“I know that Jake will be happy to get married in a double ceremony. One of his sisters did it with her cousin just a few years ago, and he’s always talked about how the family loved it. Everyone was together and had a great time, like a family reunion without all of the negatives.”
“Well, I’ll talk to Sam tomorrow. You talk to Jake and make sure that he’s OK with it. Considering how God threw us together, it makes sense that we separate into our individual lives again with a celebration. I’ve read that the main thing about a double wedding is to communicate, communicate, and communicate.”
“And can’t I talk better than anybody? Except for maybe the family psychiatrist?”
Megan smiled. “You stop. See what I do with a piece of YOUR wedding cake.”
“Nuh-uh, Mom. No fair sabotaging. You wouldn’t do that to your own daughter, would you”, Lara retorted.
Finally, the two wound down. There would be a million decisions ahead, but the day that Megan always wanted, and the day that Lara had always dreamed about, would finally happen. And like so many other things in their lives, it would happen the same day and the same hour.
CHAPTER 34
January, 2016
Immediately after Christmas, planning for the wedding began in earnest. The couples decided for simplicity that they would forgo attendants and act as best man and maid of honor for each other. The men would carry both sets of rings in the pocket of their tuxes.
They also decided to use the same minister, although both vows would still be delivered separately. The ceremony would take place at Trinity, in deference to Megan and Lara’s wishes. Decisions on the flowers and other decorations were also made.
Sam and Jake insisted on having control of the reception venue and the music. Megan and Lara acquiesced, relieved of that particular part of the ceremony.
It was a Saturday morning, and Lara and Megan were together in Megan’s X3 to go shopping for wedding dresses.
A familiar song came on the radio, one that Lara had heard many times while with Megan. Curious about it, she asked, “What’s that song, Mom? You’ve played it like a million times at home and sometimes while we’re riding together.”
“It’s Moonlight Serenade, written by Glenn Miller just after the start of World War Two. It’s just romantic. I’ve always dreamed of having it played on my wedding day. Maybe if we get a DJ, he can play it for my dance with Sam and your grandfather.” Lara made a mental note to tell her future husband.
“Just wondering. It’s pretty, especially when it’s played by a big orchestra.”
The two women arrived at the dress shop, anticipating the kind of dress that they had always dreamed of having. Even though Megan was fully capable of paying for them, Tim had written a big check to her to subsidize them. There were other expenses that Megan’s father had paid, some directly, some indirectly. Maybe he’s trying to make up for all the years when he didn’t spend any money on me, she thought.
Lara and Megan picked out dresses that were quite different, reflecting the difference in their taste and age. Megan’s was considerably more modest than Lara’s strapless one. But both dresses reflected class and distinction.
The big day was fixed for just over four months’ away. It would be two more weeks before Lara and Megan realized that their marriage day was the seventh anniversary of the month and day that Lara came to the townhouse to become Megan’s daughter.
After making deposits for their dresses, Lara and Megan stopped at a café for a snack. Feigning a need to use the bathroom, Lara headed toward the bathroom, but took a side door and went out into an alley. Taking the phone from her purse, she placed a call to her future stepfather, who she knew was on the Symphony Board along with her grandfather.
Sam Willis answered almost immediately. Knowing that she had to be quick, Lara began talking almost in a babble.
“Sam, hi, this is Lara. Listen, I had this idea for the music for the wedding.”
Laughing heartily, Sam answered, “OK, Lara. What is it, honey?”
“Mom loves orchestra music, and she really likes big band stuff played by the Boston Pops, too. There’s this song, “Moonlight Serenade”, that she really loves and I thought it would be cool to have it played at our reception for the first dance. It’s the perfect tempo.”
Sam agreed with Lara. Would it be possible to have the symphony to play their wedding reception? If Megan loved “Moonlight Serenade” as much as Lara claimed, she would faint at having a live orchestra.
Sam told Lara that he would see what he could do, and then let Lara go back inside to her Mom so that she wouldn’t suspect anything. Thankfully, Lara breathed a sigh of relief that Megan hadn’t suspected anything.
Within the next few days, Sam called Tim, and with a few other phone calls, the orchestra had been secured in exchange for a substantial donation. And an opening had been planned that would be guaranteed to stun the future Dr. Megan Willis.
So that there wouldn’t be shock on the part of the younger groom, Sam called Jake and let him in on the secret. Other than Tim, Sam, and Jake, no one in the wedding party knew for certain what was going to happen. In reality, it would turn out to be better than anything that anyone could have envisioned.
Overall, the wedding would come together easier than any of the four could have wished for.
CHAPTER 35
Late April, 2016 - The “big” day
Megan and Lara met in the kitchen shortly after awakening. The townhouse was a sea of boxes and bags as Megan was moving to Sam’s house. Lara was preparing to take over the townhouse, as she and Jake had agreed to buy it from Megan. Megan had given them terms that were impossible to turn down – they could stay there “rent free” until both had finished their schooling, then pay her back at a sliding scale commensurate with their earnings.
There was an air of sadness but anticipation as they met for breakfast for the last time. They realized that things would be different from here forward.
“Mom, can you believe it? It’s been seven years today since I came here to live with you.”
“It seems like yesterday. You were this teenager who I didn’t have any idea how to raise..”
“And look where we’ve come”, Lara interrupted.
“We’ve been blessed, haven’t we?”
“You’re talking like we’re going to be thousands of miles apart or something.”
“I know, but you and Jake are going to have your own lives. You won’t want Sam and me interfering.”
“You won’t interfere, Mom. I promise. You’re my mother, remember?”
Megan looked away, obviously thinking about the time that had past and all that had happened in their joint lives. Suddenly, her eyes began to mist.
“Mom, what is it?” Lara asked, obviously alarmed.
“Oh, it’s nothing. I just remember the first time that you called me Mom. I remember thinking for years that I would probably never hear that word.”
“And now you’ve heard me say it, what, a gazillion times?”
“Every one of them is special. Especially that time you were cramping so bad before you had your surgery. I felt so helpless. I was a mother and a doctor and couldn’t do anything about it in either role.”
“But you got me the help that I needed. And if everything works out, you’ll be called “Grandma” one day.”
“Wow.” Megan nodded at the thought.
“All because you decided that this orphaned teenager was worth taking a chance on.”
“No, God insisted that I adopt you. He told me so.”
“He did? You never told me that story before.”
“Well, you were younger.”
“And you wanted to me sure that I could understand.”
“Yeah, something like that. I’ve never heard such distinct words before or since.”
“But think about it. You obeyed God, and look where it led us. I’ve had this wonderful woman who has loved me so much for all this time.”
“As you have loved me, honey. I couldn’t have survived Susie’s death without you.”
“Oh, one thing that I’ve always wanted to ask you. Did you love Susie, I mean..” Megan had long anticipated this question, and by some miracle, Lara hadn’t asked. I guess it’s time to set the record straight, she decided.
“Ours wasn’t that kind of attraction. We were just two people who happened to meet. We had so much in common in spite of our different occupations. We were both driven. We both had well-to-do parents who expected a lot of us. We were both only children.”
“That’s amazing. I don’t think that it was an accident that you found her standing there when you came back from Grandpa and Grandma rejecting you.”
“No. God steered a lot of things in both our lives.” Megan’s mind began to drift and remember the tragedy of the last wedding that she attended. I just wish that God had let Susie live for this day, she silently thought.
Megan sensed all of a sudden that quite a bit of time had passed – something that they couldn’t spare on this very busy day.
“Oh, my gosh” Megan exclaimed. “We need to get going!”
“Right, Mom!”
And the two were off running again.
The time of their wedding, 7:00 p.m., allowed them at least a little luxury as far as getting ready. But in spite of having extra time, there were lots of details to be handled, and before long, much of the day was spent. By the time they left the salon where they had their hair and makeup done, they had to drive immediately to the church and get ready.
The ceremony itself went off without a hitch, even though it was longer than a ‘normal’ wedding because of two couples. Fortunately, the reception was close by, and both women had elected to leave their dresses on for their departure from the church.
The choice of the reception hall was something that Sam and Jake had insisted that they control. They had chosen Symphony Hall, whose lower level seating featured a large flat area at the front of the auditorium that would be suitable for dancing. The hall was also had an open area that was normally set up with a number of large tables so that guests could be seated immediately adjacent to the dance area.
As for music, Sam had asserted himself. Whenever Megan asked him about it, he would only say “I’ve taken care of it.” After receiving the same answer several times, Megan dropped her interest. But upon arrival at Symphony Hall, Megan quickly noted that there was no DJ to be found. Because of the press of people, the realization only lasted a couple of seconds before more people were greeting her and normal “bride” duties intervened.
As both women had decided, there were separate cakes, but the couples cut them individually. This gave the crowd a double laugh as Sam attempted to cram a large piece of cake into Megan’s mouth, with hilarious results. But Jake fumbled and dropped the cake that he attempted to feed to Lara, causing an even louder swell of laughter.
Finally, it was time for the music to be cued for the dance. Megan realized that she still didn’t see a DJ anywhere in the hall. Sam still grabbed her hand and led her to the floor in front of the group of tables. As they walked, Megan gave a look to Sam and started to whisper. Sam smiled at her at as he took her hand.
At that moment, the stage drape, which had been closed, began to slowly open as the Metropolitan Symphony began to play the opening notes of “Moonlight Serenade” in the arrangement made famous by the Boston Pops. Megan’s mouth dropped and tears streamed down her face.
Sam took Megan’s other hand and they began to slowly dance to the beat of the song.
After they had taken a few steps, it was obvious that Megan’s tears were blurring her vision. Removing a handkerchief that he had in his pocket, Sam carefully dabbed at her face. Megan was grateful that the woman who did hers and Lara’s makeup had opted for waterproof mascara. Quickly returning the handkerchief to his pocket, Sam once again picked up the beat of the song as Megan whispered to him.
“You’ve made me the happiest woman on the planet, Dr. Willis.”
“I know. By design” he whispered back.
By now, Jake had also led Lara onto the dance floor and they began to dance. But before the song was halfway done, Tim interrupted Sam to take Megan’s hand. She smiled at her Dad, then she realized how this had happened. Tim was on the Symphony Board with Sam. The two had to have worked together to pull this off, she laughingly concluded.
The rest of the evening became a flurry of dancing, talking, laughing, in general a large party that happened to have live music from the big band era, all with arrangements suitable for a symphony.
As the reception dwindled, it came time for Megan and Sam to go to their hotel. As Megan approached Lara, the latter smiled and spread open her arms. A winding path had brought them together, and now the winding path was taking them in separate ways once again. There would be many experiences ahead, but the time up to now had been nothing short of a special miracle.
As the women hugged, albeit awkwardly due to the volume of their dresses, Megan whispered, “I love you, Lara. Don’t be a stranger!” Lara answered, “I won’t be a stranger! Thank you, Mom. I love you, too.”
EPILOGUE
April, 2044
Megan Phillips Willis was celebrating her seventieth birthday with her family as well as a few friends. The only unfortunate thing about the occasion was the absence of her husband, Sam. After suffering a severe stroke two years earlier, he languished and had died just weeks earlier. Megan was grieving, as Sam was truly her soulmate. She looked forward to being able to see him again in heaven.
But the retired psychiatrist was trying her best to not let this day be a sad one. In spite of Lara’s protests, she had arrived early at the Terrill home, wanting to help set up even though she was the guest of honor.
The only problem in her life, according to her, was her driverless car. Megan could hardly sit still while the computers quietly drove her from the “big house” (as they called Sam and Megan’s home) to the more modest home that Lara and Jake had purchased years earlier.
There was another reason for her early arrival – her grandchildren were home from their higher education institutions. Almost from the time that they were born, Megan had played the “grandma” role well, taking care of them to the point of spoiling them when their parents were unavailable or busy.
Jake, Jr. (known to the family as “JJ”) was in a college pre-med program with intentions of joining his father’s practice after finishing medical school. Ever since JJ was a young child, he sat in rapt attention as Jake talked to Lara about his cases. His interest never wavered and in high school, he took every advanced placement class in the sciences that was offered. Blessed with a strong work ethic, too, he became valedictorian of his high school class.
Susan, the older of the two, was named after Megan’s late best friend. A no-nonsense young woman, (“Call me Susan, not Sue or Susie”) she wanted to become a surgeon like her great-grandfather. She became intrigued with the prospect of specializing in women’s urological issues, particularly as aging and childbirth created issues. Susan was currently in medical school, and had just started resident rotations.
This day was to be a treat for their parents, as well. Lara and Jake rarely saw their children, given their children’s heavy schedules. That, and the fact that the parents had a full load in their occupations. Jake had become one of the most sought-after ENT’s in the area. His schedule was booked out at least three months for new patients. Lara’s schedule was less intense, but counseling eating disorder patients took up a large part of her time. She had interrupted her career to raise JJ and Susan, but was able to pick up almost where she left off after almost ten years off.
Eventually, some close mutual friends of Megan and her daughter and son-in-law arrived. Their enthusiasm for the occasion helped to make the mood even more uplifting.
Finally, it was time for the celebration to begin. Lara pulled the half-sheet cake from the refrigerator. Megan noted that it had only seven candles instead of seventy.
“Does this mean I get to be seven again?”
The banter between mother and daughter continued much as it had for the previous 36 years.
“No, Mom, it just means that I don’t want to burn the house down! You know how wildfires create their own draft? We’d have a lab version of that right here!”
Laughter erupted. Lara used a grill lighter to light all of the candles. As soon as her daughter had the complement lit, Megan blew them out with a vengeance. But after a few seconds, each candle began to light again, as Lara had used trick candles.
Trying not to laugh, Megan exclaimed, “What did you do? Now I don’t get my wish!”
Lara teased her mother once again. “That’s not true! You’ve had everything you’ve ever wished for, Doctor!”
The group sang “Happy Birthday” to Megan. As the “mature” woman looked around the room, tears formed in her eyes. It was beyond her immediate grasp to understand the love that was being expressed. She remembered all too well the feelings of being alone in her journey from Michael to Megan. There was no way that she could have ever dreamed about her life eventually arriving at this point. Thankful was an inadequate word to express her feelings.
After the song was sung, Lara cut Megan’s cake. It was her favorite, a chocolate fudge cake with mocha icing. It had been a tradition to have it on Megan’s birthday since Susan and JJ had been small children. It was even more special this year in light of Sam’s demise.
As everyone was eating, Megan paused to tell everyone how she felt.
“Everyone, especially Lara and Jake, thank you for this. I want to thank you, Susan and JJ, for taking time to show up. While I wish that Sam was here to celebrate with us, God had other plans for him, and that’s OK. But if a seventy year old woman can take just a bit of your time, I’d like to pass along a little wisdom.”
Megan paused and looked around the room to see everyone with rapt attention. She continued.
“When I started to college, I had no idea what life would have for me. I just knew that I had to live it in the best way that I could. I was alone and pretty scared. But God blesses us with the right people and the right resources at the right time, if we let Him. Before I even knew Him, He was steering everything. But I tell you, the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me was an opportunity that I never dreamed of – the chance to adopt a wonderful teen-age young woman. Along the way, too, was a husband. Then I picked up a son-in-law and later still, two grandchildren. All of this to say, keep your ears open to God and your eyes open to opportunities. Take the challenges as they come. If you fail, don’t take it personally – call it a life lesson, praise God, and get back on the track, as they say.”
With tears in her eyes, Megan looked around the room, thankful for being alive and for having all that she had. She paused once again, then quietly said, “Thank you all so much. I love each and every one of you.”
A flurry of people surrounded Megan, telling her that they loved her, and thanking her for the part that she had in their lives. It was a day that none who were there would ever forget.
Megan would go on to live another eighteen years. JJ and Susan both started their practices, got married, and each had three children. It was a treat for Megan to meet her great-grandchildren, and for them to get to know her.
Not long after she celebrated her 88th birthday, Megan began to feel drained each day. Long one to ignore her own health, she waited until the symptoms of a problem got much worse. In spite of medical advances, science was still unable to effect a cure for pancreatic cancer. Unfortunately, the form that she had was very aggressive, and not one to wreck her quality of life, Megan said no to chemotherapy and radiation.
Slowly and inexorably, her body succumbed to its ravages, but not before her whole family came to gather around her hospital bed one last time. After praying and singing hymns, the group witnessed one last miracle as Megan opened her eyes and smiled as she saw everyone gathered around. But just a couple of minutes later, after everyone had one last chance to say goodbye, she closed her eyes and breathed a long breath that would not be followed.
Her path came to an abrupt end, but many more had sprung from its roots. Life continued on.
FINIS