Sissy Stepson 10 Stepmother s Sissy
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“Hey, Mr. Cee,” Rochelle answered her phone.
“How you doin’, Ro,” her mother’s husband inquired.
“I’m doing pretty good. And you?”
“Can’t complain.”
“What’s up? I know you don’t usually talk on the phone too much.”
“Yeah. That’s the thing. You know I speak with my daughter about my financial planning, right?”
“I’m with you so far.”
“Well, we were talkin’ this mornin’ and she said that her and Kerene are going to Persopolis to watch the Mountain Lions play. They’re takin’ their new exchange student to see an NFL game.”
“That’s nice! They wanted to invite Coree and Jere.”
“That’s sweet of them! Do they need a place to stay?”
“She didn’t say.”
“Well, text me her number and I’ll insist that they stay with us.”
“Alright then! I’m gonna go feed my chickens.”
“Bye bye!”
Rochelle was relaxing this afternoon because she didn’t work until 10:00 p.m. After that, she would have the next three days off. She messaged her step-sister to thank them for the invite. She also told her she had plenty of space for them to spend the night. She hadn’t seen, Marjorie Perkins, since last year when they were at her mom and Clarence’s anniversary party.
The nurse anesthetist was also off work today. She pulled seven-on and then seven-off. She and her partner, Kerene Mills, lived in Vicksburg in a charming, historic-looking one-story house. For the past few years Marjorie and the high school assistant principal had hosted an exchange student. The international visitors stayed in their home for roughly ten months and attended classes where Kerene was employed. The year previously they had a sixteen year-old girl named Aita from Senegal. It had been fun when she met the girl who introduced the family to the customs of Ramadan.
Marjorie thanked the physician and accepted the offer before consulting with Kerene. She didn’t think her significant other would object.
Rochelle got up and started dinner. She rolled ground Italian sausage into balls and stuffed some mozzarella in the center of each. She browned them and then poured in a canned marinara sauce which she doctored up with a seasoning blend and diced tomatoes with green chiles. It smelled great. She pulled out a baguette the boys could toast for their meatball sandwiches this evening.
She wanted to catch some sleep before they returned home from football practice. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she sat back up. Her stomach was turning flips. She ate a piece of ginger and drank a lemon lime soda. A few minutes later, she felt better. Now, she could rest.
She heard the boys when they came in the house. She willed herself to get out of bed. They were sitting at the table doing homework already. She appreciated that they now knew the routine. She asked, “How was y’all’s day?”
“Mine was good, ma,” Jere said enthusiastically. “I made an 89 on my literature test!”
“Wow, buddy! That’s amazing! Keep up the good work!”
“I will. I like making good grades.”
“Well, you earned it, son! What about you Coree?”
“It went pretty good. Nothing major. I did talk with the sarge about junior R.O.T.C.,” the older one informed her.
“Good! What did he say?”
“He told me about the GPA requirements. He also told me about career options enlisting or officer. And he mentioned college scholarships.”
“What did you think of it?”
“I think I wanna do it. I mean tuition can be paid and I’m guaranteed a job after I finish my bachelor’s.”
“Not a bad plan. What do we do now?”
“He says I should discuss it with you. Keep up my grades of course. ANd set up a meeting with you, me, and him next semester.”
“Alright. Pick date and let me know so I can block it off my schedule.”
“Sure, ma!”
She told them that Auntie’s Margie & Kay would be visiting for an upcoming game and that they were invited. The were happy with the news.
The next day, Jere had an appointment with the allergist. She checked him out during the middle of the day and returned him back when it was over. He was there in time for the end of day athletics period when parctice started. She saw her son’s friend, Tucker, and said hello. “Hi, Dr. S,” he smiled.
“How’s it going?”
“Good. You?”
“I’m well. Thanks! Say, I have a question. There was an orange and brown house near the front of your neighborhood. I noticed some nice potted plants there. I was wondering who lives there. Do you happen to know.”
“Oh, that’s Sassy’s house.”
“Yeah...Sassy. I don’t know his real name or nothin’. But, he’s got sugar in his tank.”
“Excuse me.”
“You know he wants to be a girl.”
“Oh okay,” she feigned surprise. “Well, have a good practice.”
Rochelle demanded of herself that she not get angry or jump to any conclusions. She was still highly suspicious since Lynton was not forthcoming with why he was visiting someone in the trailer park. She couldn’t help, but feel betrayal. She figured he was screwing the white girlyboi. She imagined that the faggot was a size queen and enamored with BBC. She chastised herself and committed to stop thinking about it. On the way home, she stopped at a fast food joint to get a caramel-flavored frozen coffee treat. That, really calmed her nerves.
She texted Hugo not expecting a reply for a while. He was still in his cardiac ICU rotation. Her phone went off. It was her twin brother Randall.
“Hey, Randy,” she answered.
“Hey, Ro! I got Buck on the line. Let me bring him over,” the older one by minutes informed her. “Okay, you there, Buck?”
“Yep. How you doin’, Ro,” checked their eldest sibling.
“I’m fine. Thanks! You?”
“I’m good. You know. Just missin’ my family,” Buck admitted.
“We miss you too. What’s up,” she asked.
Randall started, “I wanted to visit him in a couple of weeks and he said I should check with you. So may I?”
“You don’t need my permission,” Ro giggled. “He’s your brother just as much as he is mine.”
“Nawl, Ro,” Buck chimed in. “I was thinkin’ y’all might come together.”
“Oh. That could work, but we’re coming from opposite directions so it might not be that convenient,” she gently reminded him.
“You shole right. Well I get me to yourself when you come down.”
“Sounds good,” she detected innuendo.
“Okay, girl,” Randall said. “I gotta go. Catch you later.”
The weekend arrived. Marjorie and Kerene let her know they were pulling out of their driveway around two hours ago. She estimated they’d be at her house in 90 minutes or so. She went to inspect the guest bedroom. It was in decent order after she asked Mirella to focus on it the other day. The ensuite bathroom was also spin and span. She started prepping dinner.
She was going to serve slow cooker country-style pork ribs, chopped bacon over creamy polenta, and the Ethiopian tomato salad mixture Hugo had shown her just a few days ago. For dessert she made a sweet treat of puffed rice cereal and melted marshmallows. She spread the gooey concoction in a baking dish. She topped it with a mocha flavored icing and sprinkled on some toasted almonds.
Coree emerged from his bedroom fishing around the kitchen. “Hey, ma! Can Ty come over for dinner?”
“Sure,” Ro did not hesitate. “But this is our first time meeting Marjorie and Kerene’s exchange student. I want him to feel included.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Alright. Can you take out the trash?”
“They’re here,” Jere bounced out of his room after spotting the black pearl 2014 Honda Accord through the bathroom window while taking a leak. He opened the door leading to the garage and stepped outside to usher the guests in the house.
Rochelle smiled warmly and greeted them all. Marjorie and Kerene hugged everyone and then introduced Josef from the Czech Republic. The 17 year-old from the former Soviet bloc nation was delighted to in the good ole U.S. of A. Coree and Jere helped with their bags. Then, Rochelle asked if they were hungry. Indeed they were.
The fixed their plates and ended up playing Uno into the night. Ty showed up halfway through the meal and Rochelle gently nudged him to get going at 8:00 p.m.
Sunday morning came and everyone was asleep except for Kerene and Rochelle. It was a little after 8:00 a.m.
“Wanna cup of coffee,” the hostess inquired.
“That’d be great,” Kerene smiled.
“So what’s new with you?”
“I’m almost done with my third novel,” the twice published fiction writer divulged.
“That’s awesome! I can’t wait to read it. May I ask what it’s about?”
“It’s about girl born to an Indio woman and a Negro man in colonial New Spain. She goes on to lead several slave revolts before her people are exiled by the British to St. Vincent.”
“Sounds interesting. You focus a lot of your writing on Afro-Caribbean themes. Any particular reason?”
“I’ve always been interested in Spanish and French imperialism and its effects on the African diaspora,” Marjorie’s significant other said. “We’re taught so much about the British because we’re in the USA. But the slave trade in the Spanish new world was much bigger and more brutal overall - except in a few places.”
“I gotcha.”
“You know my undergrad degree is in Spanish, right?”
“No, I had no idea.”
“I taught Spanish for ten years before I moved to the administration side of things.”
“That’s cool. I know you’re really into the exchange program. Did you study abroad?”
“Yes, I spent a summer term in Haiti and a year in Spain.”
“You know I’m so glad Margie to decided to be open and share her life with us. Yet, there’s still so much more I barely know about you,” Ro admitted.
“Yeah! It took us both a while to get there with family. I’m glad we finally did. It’s so much easier now,” Kerene surmised.
“Who you tellin’,” chuckled Rochelle. “Well, Kay, I need to get ready. There’s frozen waffles, bagels, and other fixings in the fridge and pantry. Help yourselves. I gotta get going.”
“Thanks!”
“No worries. Make sure the boys lock up.”
Rochelle left home and headed into the city. Her destination was 221 Edgware Street. The home there was a boarding house in which her mentee resided. The establishment was an older, Southern charmer with five bedrooms and 3 full bathrooms situated amongst three floors. The proprietor was the widowed Mrs. Blanche Cooke, a one-time Riverfest Queen. She rented out rooms and provided breakfast Sunday through Friday. She prepared dinner every day except Wednesday and Saturday. Boarders were responsible for their own meals otherwise.
The arrangement was perfect for Rochelle’s young associate. It was economical and there was an interesting cross-sections of tenants. Mr. Hoayek inhabited the first floor guest room with a private bath. He was a Syrian Maronite Catholic refugee with a storied background. On the second-floor stayed Emery McKee, an openly flamboyant, community health worker in his mid-twenties. He had been the one to connect the mentee with Mrs. Cooke. And, Wilbur Yarbrough was the resident on the very top floor. He worked as an appliance repair man. The fifty-seven year-old also provided help with the odd job around the house.
Rochelle arrived and gave Darrah Brown a buzz letting her know she was outside. Darrah was the fourth and final tenant. She was a part-time student and River Region Community College and worked 30 hours a week at a retail pharmacy chain. Darrah was transgender just like her mentor. Her family was deeply ensconced in the Apostolic Holiness church and unapproving of her ‘lifestyle’. She left home after graduation and ended up at the Metro Center for LGBT Teens. That is how they met. Darrah paid about $23 less per week than the others because she was a strict vegetarian and prepared all of he own meals.
“Hey, girl,” Rochelle smiled.
“Hi, Dr. S. How are you,” the leggy, mocha complexioned woman asked.
“I’m fine. And you?”
“I’m good. Thanks! Do you mind giving Mr. Hoayek a ride to Our Lady of Hope,” she referred to the Catholic church six blocks away.
“Not at all. Tell him to come on.”
Ibrahim Hoayek walked with his cane and climbed into the Cadillac SRX. “Thank you, ma’am!”
“You’re welcome,” she replied pulling onto the street.
They went on to small cafe up the road. Rochelle ordered a ham & swiss souffle and a mango smoothie. The collegian chose an avocado, egg & spinach sandwich, a summer fruit cup, and a bottle of water. Rochelle handed the cashier her American Express. Darrah selected a table near the front door.
“Thanks for breakfast,” Ms. Brown said.
“No problem, girl! What’s new,” Ro inquired.
“Things are pretty good overall. But, I talked to my mom and dad yesterday and well,” she trailed off.
“What happened, dear?”
“They were just basically and wanna see me again.”
“That’s progress, right?”
“Uh, not for real. They said I could come back home if I ask God for forgiveness and ‘stop living in sin’.”
“Yikes. So, still no acceptance. I know you said your dad would probably be a little more open than your mom.”
“Yeah, but he’s not going to challenge her. I mean he’s a deacon and she’s an evangelist. They’d be too embarrassed having me around them en femme.”
“I understand how you feel,” Rochelle empathized. “It can get much better with time. My mom and several other family members took years to come around and accept me.”
“How’d you get through it,” asked Darrah.
“Honestly, I cried a lot, read the Bible, and prayed. I also utilized campus counseling services. I made my escape my textbooks.”
“I need to find something to occupy my time.”
“You love interior design. What about spending time in furniture galleries or antiques stores with a notebook sketching ideas.”
“You always come up with stuff I never think about.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re doing a great job!”
“It doesn’t always feel like it,” admitted Darrah. “But I know I’m doing the right things.”
“Glad to hear it. Any new love interests,” Ro pried.
“That guy from school, Rico, is still trying to get it.”
“And have you talked to Edmund?”
“Uh...I uh…”
“Come on Dee. You can tell me. I’m not going to judge.”
“Yeah. I talked to him last night. He’s coming up after church to see me,” she explained about the man 20 years her senior that was on the deacon board with her dad.
“Is he treating the way you really deserve?”
“I love him. And he loves me.”
“I know, but he can’t leave his wife because the k**s are young.”
“Yeah,” the mentee relayed with an unsure tone.
“I hear you. It’ll be another reason in the future. It’s always bad timing. I only say this because I’ve lived it more than once,” the physician warned lovingly.
“I get it, Rochelle. I really do. I’ll work it out,” lamented the young woman.
Rochelle touched her hand. “I know you will.”
“What’s going on in your world?”
“Interesting you should ask. My step sister and her wife stayed with us last night. They’re taking their foreign exchange student and my sons to the game today.”
“That’s cool! Where is the exchange student from?”
“The Czech Republic.”
“Damn! That’s far.”
“Yep. Oh, and I’ve gone out a couple of times with this guy I met through work, Hugo.”
“Is he fine, girl?”
“Actually, he is. Intoxicating smile. Worldly. Kind. Easy going.”
“He sounds perfect.”
“They always are in the beginning.”
“Don’t be so cynical, Ro.”
“I know. He even cooked Ethiopian food for me.”
“He’s a keeper. Do he got a brother?”
“Yeah. A chef in N’awlins.,”
They cleaned up their trash and went back to the vehicle. Rochelle asked if Darrah needed to hit the store before returning home. So, they stopped at a neighborhood market. The young lady grabbed a cart and stocked it with a baby carrots, a zucchini, a yellow onion, a bell pepper, button mushrooms, and a bag of red potatoes from the produce section. She picked up a loaf of fresh baked Italian bread for a buck.
Then, Darrah found a 10 for $10 deal on store brand canned veggies - she picked up three k**ney beans, two black beans, two lentils, one sweet pea, and one green bean, one diced tomato. She also placed a small can of Mexican corn in the cart. She selected a boxed of macaroni pasta. She added tubed potato crisps, juice boxes and granola bars, and roasted mixed nuts.
Along the dairy aisle, she threw in milk, shredded cheddar cheese, cottage cheese, sour cream, yogurt, and some eggs. She finished the trip by adding a gallon of sweet tea. At checkout, she pulled out her debit, but Rochelle insisted she put it away. “Wow! You don’t have to do that! I have money on my EBT card.”
“I know I don’t HAVE to. But I WANT to.Save those funds for later,” Rochelle muscled beside her with her AMEX Serve debit card.
“Thanks, girl!”
“Anytime!”
Back at the boarding house, Rochelle assisted Darrah with getting the groceries inside. There was a note in front hall indicating that Mrs. Cooke was visiting her sister and wouldn’t be back until late. It said she had left a boxed dinners for the tenants in the bottom of the fridge. Darrah explained that she was probably home with just Emery and may Wilbur. Mr. Hoayek usually spent Sunday afternoons with his daughter and grandk**s.
Putting away the items, Darrah left out some of the ingredients so she could make her cheesy vegetarian chili mac. “Do you hear that,” Rochelle asked quietly.
“No,” Darrah whispered.
“Listen. It’s coming from upstairs.”
The pair crept up the steps and the sounds grew louder.
“Fuck my pussy, Daddy! Fuck this boipussy, Wilbur,” the soft voice cried out.
The mature, handyman with large hands and a slight beer gut demanded, “Yeah take Daddy’s dick, faggit!”
“Oh yeah, Daddy! I love it!”
“Daddy love that sissy ass booty hole too! It’s creamin’ all on mah dick!”
Darrah laughed silently and so did Rochelle. They headed back to the kitchen where the resident began cooking. Rochelle excused herself to get back home.
Driving she called Hugo, “Hey, my k**s are at the game this afternoon. Wanna come over and hang out? I feel like pizza.”
“Do i??? What time shall I be there,” Dr. Alazar checked.
“Forty-five minutes or so.”
“I’m getting ready now, sweetheart.”
“What kind of pizza do you like?”
“Everything.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll bring a movie and some wine. Malbec okay?”
“Perfect!”
Rochelle looked at the time. Montesi’s was just about to open. She would stop off and purchase a deluxe supreme pie. She was pretty sure she had some bagged salad at home. But, if not, there was enough fruit to make a simple, refreshing side. It would be nice to spend some more time with Hugo.
“How you doin’, Ro,” her mother’s husband inquired.
“I’m doing pretty good. And you?”
“Can’t complain.”
“What’s up? I know you don’t usually talk on the phone too much.”
“Yeah. That’s the thing. You know I speak with my daughter about my financial planning, right?”
“I’m with you so far.”
“Well, we were talkin’ this mornin’ and she said that her and Kerene are going to Persopolis to watch the Mountain Lions play. They’re takin’ their new exchange student to see an NFL game.”
“That’s nice! They wanted to invite Coree and Jere.”
“That’s sweet of them! Do they need a place to stay?”
“She didn’t say.”
“Well, text me her number and I’ll insist that they stay with us.”
“Alright then! I’m gonna go feed my chickens.”
“Bye bye!”
Rochelle was relaxing this afternoon because she didn’t work until 10:00 p.m. After that, she would have the next three days off. She messaged her step-sister to thank them for the invite. She also told her she had plenty of space for them to spend the night. She hadn’t seen, Marjorie Perkins, since last year when they were at her mom and Clarence’s anniversary party.
The nurse anesthetist was also off work today. She pulled seven-on and then seven-off. She and her partner, Kerene Mills, lived in Vicksburg in a charming, historic-looking one-story house. For the past few years Marjorie and the high school assistant principal had hosted an exchange student. The international visitors stayed in their home for roughly ten months and attended classes where Kerene was employed. The year previously they had a sixteen year-old girl named Aita from Senegal. It had been fun when she met the girl who introduced the family to the customs of Ramadan.
Marjorie thanked the physician and accepted the offer before consulting with Kerene. She didn’t think her significant other would object.
Rochelle got up and started dinner. She rolled ground Italian sausage into balls and stuffed some mozzarella in the center of each. She browned them and then poured in a canned marinara sauce which she doctored up with a seasoning blend and diced tomatoes with green chiles. It smelled great. She pulled out a baguette the boys could toast for their meatball sandwiches this evening.
She wanted to catch some sleep before they returned home from football practice. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she sat back up. Her stomach was turning flips. She ate a piece of ginger and drank a lemon lime soda. A few minutes later, she felt better. Now, she could rest.
She heard the boys when they came in the house. She willed herself to get out of bed. They were sitting at the table doing homework already. She appreciated that they now knew the routine. She asked, “How was y’all’s day?”
“Mine was good, ma,” Jere said enthusiastically. “I made an 89 on my literature test!”
“Wow, buddy! That’s amazing! Keep up the good work!”
“I will. I like making good grades.”
“Well, you earned it, son! What about you Coree?”
“It went pretty good. Nothing major. I did talk with the sarge about junior R.O.T.C.,” the older one informed her.
“Good! What did he say?”
“He told me about the GPA requirements. He also told me about career options enlisting or officer. And he mentioned college scholarships.”
“What did you think of it?”
“I think I wanna do it. I mean tuition can be paid and I’m guaranteed a job after I finish my bachelor’s.”
“Not a bad plan. What do we do now?”
“He says I should discuss it with you. Keep up my grades of course. ANd set up a meeting with you, me, and him next semester.”
“Alright. Pick date and let me know so I can block it off my schedule.”
“Sure, ma!”
She told them that Auntie’s Margie & Kay would be visiting for an upcoming game and that they were invited. The were happy with the news.
The next day, Jere had an appointment with the allergist. She checked him out during the middle of the day and returned him back when it was over. He was there in time for the end of day athletics period when parctice started. She saw her son’s friend, Tucker, and said hello. “Hi, Dr. S,” he smiled.
“How’s it going?”
“Good. You?”
“I’m well. Thanks! Say, I have a question. There was an orange and brown house near the front of your neighborhood. I noticed some nice potted plants there. I was wondering who lives there. Do you happen to know.”
“Oh, that’s Sassy’s house.”
“Yeah...Sassy. I don’t know his real name or nothin’. But, he’s got sugar in his tank.”
“Excuse me.”
“You know he wants to be a girl.”
“Oh okay,” she feigned surprise. “Well, have a good practice.”
Rochelle demanded of herself that she not get angry or jump to any conclusions. She was still highly suspicious since Lynton was not forthcoming with why he was visiting someone in the trailer park. She couldn’t help, but feel betrayal. She figured he was screwing the white girlyboi. She imagined that the faggot was a size queen and enamored with BBC. She chastised herself and committed to stop thinking about it. On the way home, she stopped at a fast food joint to get a caramel-flavored frozen coffee treat. That, really calmed her nerves.
She texted Hugo not expecting a reply for a while. He was still in his cardiac ICU rotation. Her phone went off. It was her twin brother Randall.
“Hey, Randy,” she answered.
“Hey, Ro! I got Buck on the line. Let me bring him over,” the older one by minutes informed her. “Okay, you there, Buck?”
“Yep. How you doin’, Ro,” checked their eldest sibling.
“I’m fine. Thanks! You?”
“I’m good. You know. Just missin’ my family,” Buck admitted.
“We miss you too. What’s up,” she asked.
Randall started, “I wanted to visit him in a couple of weeks and he said I should check with you. So may I?”
“You don’t need my permission,” Ro giggled. “He’s your brother just as much as he is mine.”
“Nawl, Ro,” Buck chimed in. “I was thinkin’ y’all might come together.”
“Oh. That could work, but we’re coming from opposite directions so it might not be that convenient,” she gently reminded him.
“You shole right. Well I get me to yourself when you come down.”
“Sounds good,” she detected innuendo.
“Okay, girl,” Randall said. “I gotta go. Catch you later.”
The weekend arrived. Marjorie and Kerene let her know they were pulling out of their driveway around two hours ago. She estimated they’d be at her house in 90 minutes or so. She went to inspect the guest bedroom. It was in decent order after she asked Mirella to focus on it the other day. The ensuite bathroom was also spin and span. She started prepping dinner.
She was going to serve slow cooker country-style pork ribs, chopped bacon over creamy polenta, and the Ethiopian tomato salad mixture Hugo had shown her just a few days ago. For dessert she made a sweet treat of puffed rice cereal and melted marshmallows. She spread the gooey concoction in a baking dish. She topped it with a mocha flavored icing and sprinkled on some toasted almonds.
Coree emerged from his bedroom fishing around the kitchen. “Hey, ma! Can Ty come over for dinner?”
“Sure,” Ro did not hesitate. “But this is our first time meeting Marjorie and Kerene’s exchange student. I want him to feel included.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Alright. Can you take out the trash?”
“They’re here,” Jere bounced out of his room after spotting the black pearl 2014 Honda Accord through the bathroom window while taking a leak. He opened the door leading to the garage and stepped outside to usher the guests in the house.
Rochelle smiled warmly and greeted them all. Marjorie and Kerene hugged everyone and then introduced Josef from the Czech Republic. The 17 year-old from the former Soviet bloc nation was delighted to in the good ole U.S. of A. Coree and Jere helped with their bags. Then, Rochelle asked if they were hungry. Indeed they were.
The fixed their plates and ended up playing Uno into the night. Ty showed up halfway through the meal and Rochelle gently nudged him to get going at 8:00 p.m.
Sunday morning came and everyone was asleep except for Kerene and Rochelle. It was a little after 8:00 a.m.
“Wanna cup of coffee,” the hostess inquired.
“That’d be great,” Kerene smiled.
“So what’s new with you?”
“I’m almost done with my third novel,” the twice published fiction writer divulged.
“That’s awesome! I can’t wait to read it. May I ask what it’s about?”
“It’s about girl born to an Indio woman and a Negro man in colonial New Spain. She goes on to lead several slave revolts before her people are exiled by the British to St. Vincent.”
“Sounds interesting. You focus a lot of your writing on Afro-Caribbean themes. Any particular reason?”
“I’ve always been interested in Spanish and French imperialism and its effects on the African diaspora,” Marjorie’s significant other said. “We’re taught so much about the British because we’re in the USA. But the slave trade in the Spanish new world was much bigger and more brutal overall - except in a few places.”
“I gotcha.”
“You know my undergrad degree is in Spanish, right?”
“No, I had no idea.”
“I taught Spanish for ten years before I moved to the administration side of things.”
“That’s cool. I know you’re really into the exchange program. Did you study abroad?”
“Yes, I spent a summer term in Haiti and a year in Spain.”
“You know I’m so glad Margie to decided to be open and share her life with us. Yet, there’s still so much more I barely know about you,” Ro admitted.
“Yeah! It took us both a while to get there with family. I’m glad we finally did. It’s so much easier now,” Kerene surmised.
“Who you tellin’,” chuckled Rochelle. “Well, Kay, I need to get ready. There’s frozen waffles, bagels, and other fixings in the fridge and pantry. Help yourselves. I gotta get going.”
“Thanks!”
“No worries. Make sure the boys lock up.”
Rochelle left home and headed into the city. Her destination was 221 Edgware Street. The home there was a boarding house in which her mentee resided. The establishment was an older, Southern charmer with five bedrooms and 3 full bathrooms situated amongst three floors. The proprietor was the widowed Mrs. Blanche Cooke, a one-time Riverfest Queen. She rented out rooms and provided breakfast Sunday through Friday. She prepared dinner every day except Wednesday and Saturday. Boarders were responsible for their own meals otherwise.
The arrangement was perfect for Rochelle’s young associate. It was economical and there was an interesting cross-sections of tenants. Mr. Hoayek inhabited the first floor guest room with a private bath. He was a Syrian Maronite Catholic refugee with a storied background. On the second-floor stayed Emery McKee, an openly flamboyant, community health worker in his mid-twenties. He had been the one to connect the mentee with Mrs. Cooke. And, Wilbur Yarbrough was the resident on the very top floor. He worked as an appliance repair man. The fifty-seven year-old also provided help with the odd job around the house.
Rochelle arrived and gave Darrah Brown a buzz letting her know she was outside. Darrah was the fourth and final tenant. She was a part-time student and River Region Community College and worked 30 hours a week at a retail pharmacy chain. Darrah was transgender just like her mentor. Her family was deeply ensconced in the Apostolic Holiness church and unapproving of her ‘lifestyle’. She left home after graduation and ended up at the Metro Center for LGBT Teens. That is how they met. Darrah paid about $23 less per week than the others because she was a strict vegetarian and prepared all of he own meals.
“Hey, girl,” Rochelle smiled.
“Hi, Dr. S. How are you,” the leggy, mocha complexioned woman asked.
“I’m fine. And you?”
“I’m good. Thanks! Do you mind giving Mr. Hoayek a ride to Our Lady of Hope,” she referred to the Catholic church six blocks away.
“Not at all. Tell him to come on.”
Ibrahim Hoayek walked with his cane and climbed into the Cadillac SRX. “Thank you, ma’am!”
“You’re welcome,” she replied pulling onto the street.
They went on to small cafe up the road. Rochelle ordered a ham & swiss souffle and a mango smoothie. The collegian chose an avocado, egg & spinach sandwich, a summer fruit cup, and a bottle of water. Rochelle handed the cashier her American Express. Darrah selected a table near the front door.
“Thanks for breakfast,” Ms. Brown said.
“No problem, girl! What’s new,” Ro inquired.
“Things are pretty good overall. But, I talked to my mom and dad yesterday and well,” she trailed off.
“What happened, dear?”
“They were just basically and wanna see me again.”
“That’s progress, right?”
“Uh, not for real. They said I could come back home if I ask God for forgiveness and ‘stop living in sin’.”
“Yikes. So, still no acceptance. I know you said your dad would probably be a little more open than your mom.”
“Yeah, but he’s not going to challenge her. I mean he’s a deacon and she’s an evangelist. They’d be too embarrassed having me around them en femme.”
“I understand how you feel,” Rochelle empathized. “It can get much better with time. My mom and several other family members took years to come around and accept me.”
“How’d you get through it,” asked Darrah.
“Honestly, I cried a lot, read the Bible, and prayed. I also utilized campus counseling services. I made my escape my textbooks.”
“I need to find something to occupy my time.”
“You love interior design. What about spending time in furniture galleries or antiques stores with a notebook sketching ideas.”
“You always come up with stuff I never think about.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re doing a great job!”
“It doesn’t always feel like it,” admitted Darrah. “But I know I’m doing the right things.”
“Glad to hear it. Any new love interests,” Ro pried.
“That guy from school, Rico, is still trying to get it.”
“And have you talked to Edmund?”
“Uh...I uh…”
“Come on Dee. You can tell me. I’m not going to judge.”
“Yeah. I talked to him last night. He’s coming up after church to see me,” she explained about the man 20 years her senior that was on the deacon board with her dad.
“Is he treating the way you really deserve?”
“I love him. And he loves me.”
“I know, but he can’t leave his wife because the k**s are young.”
“Yeah,” the mentee relayed with an unsure tone.
“I hear you. It’ll be another reason in the future. It’s always bad timing. I only say this because I’ve lived it more than once,” the physician warned lovingly.
“I get it, Rochelle. I really do. I’ll work it out,” lamented the young woman.
Rochelle touched her hand. “I know you will.”
“What’s going on in your world?”
“Interesting you should ask. My step sister and her wife stayed with us last night. They’re taking their foreign exchange student and my sons to the game today.”
“That’s cool! Where is the exchange student from?”
“The Czech Republic.”
“Damn! That’s far.”
“Yep. Oh, and I’ve gone out a couple of times with this guy I met through work, Hugo.”
“Is he fine, girl?”
“Actually, he is. Intoxicating smile. Worldly. Kind. Easy going.”
“He sounds perfect.”
“They always are in the beginning.”
“Don’t be so cynical, Ro.”
“I know. He even cooked Ethiopian food for me.”
“He’s a keeper. Do he got a brother?”
“Yeah. A chef in N’awlins.,”
They cleaned up their trash and went back to the vehicle. Rochelle asked if Darrah needed to hit the store before returning home. So, they stopped at a neighborhood market. The young lady grabbed a cart and stocked it with a baby carrots, a zucchini, a yellow onion, a bell pepper, button mushrooms, and a bag of red potatoes from the produce section. She picked up a loaf of fresh baked Italian bread for a buck.
Then, Darrah found a 10 for $10 deal on store brand canned veggies - she picked up three k**ney beans, two black beans, two lentils, one sweet pea, and one green bean, one diced tomato. She also placed a small can of Mexican corn in the cart. She selected a boxed of macaroni pasta. She added tubed potato crisps, juice boxes and granola bars, and roasted mixed nuts.
Along the dairy aisle, she threw in milk, shredded cheddar cheese, cottage cheese, sour cream, yogurt, and some eggs. She finished the trip by adding a gallon of sweet tea. At checkout, she pulled out her debit, but Rochelle insisted she put it away. “Wow! You don’t have to do that! I have money on my EBT card.”
“I know I don’t HAVE to. But I WANT to.Save those funds for later,” Rochelle muscled beside her with her AMEX Serve debit card.
“Thanks, girl!”
“Anytime!”
Back at the boarding house, Rochelle assisted Darrah with getting the groceries inside. There was a note in front hall indicating that Mrs. Cooke was visiting her sister and wouldn’t be back until late. It said she had left a boxed dinners for the tenants in the bottom of the fridge. Darrah explained that she was probably home with just Emery and may Wilbur. Mr. Hoayek usually spent Sunday afternoons with his daughter and grandk**s.
Putting away the items, Darrah left out some of the ingredients so she could make her cheesy vegetarian chili mac. “Do you hear that,” Rochelle asked quietly.
“No,” Darrah whispered.
“Listen. It’s coming from upstairs.”
The pair crept up the steps and the sounds grew louder.
“Fuck my pussy, Daddy! Fuck this boipussy, Wilbur,” the soft voice cried out.
The mature, handyman with large hands and a slight beer gut demanded, “Yeah take Daddy’s dick, faggit!”
“Oh yeah, Daddy! I love it!”
“Daddy love that sissy ass booty hole too! It’s creamin’ all on mah dick!”
Darrah laughed silently and so did Rochelle. They headed back to the kitchen where the resident began cooking. Rochelle excused herself to get back home.
Driving she called Hugo, “Hey, my k**s are at the game this afternoon. Wanna come over and hang out? I feel like pizza.”
“Do i??? What time shall I be there,” Dr. Alazar checked.
“Forty-five minutes or so.”
“I’m getting ready now, sweetheart.”
“What kind of pizza do you like?”
“Everything.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll bring a movie and some wine. Malbec okay?”
“Perfect!”
Rochelle looked at the time. Montesi’s was just about to open. She would stop off and purchase a deluxe supreme pie. She was pretty sure she had some bagged salad at home. But, if not, there was enough fruit to make a simple, refreshing side. It would be nice to spend some more time with Hugo.
Blaze
- 11.09.2020
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