An Unfinished Symphony - Part V free porn video

An Unfinished Symphony - Part V By Kelly Ann Rogers Chapter X - Things that go bump in the night Things got pretty normal over the next several months, at least as normal as they could be for someone who can't figure out whether he's a man or a woman. I focused on living as a woman, not considering the 'man' part of me at all. I looked good, and I felt comfortable in my skin. Nearly everyone I met treated me just like the woman I appeared to be, and the few you looked at me questioningly didn't do much more than that. Best of all, my relationship with Rebecca improved constantly. We were totally in synch at work and started to eat lunch together when we had time, chatting like girlfriends about all sorts of things. The office had become a great place to be. We all felt happy and it showed in our work. Frankly, we were making so much money we were a little embarrassed, and ended up giving everyone a mid-year bonus. Towards the end of July, Rebecca asked me to stay over at our house one evening after we worked late. Needless to say, I was thrilled, even hoping that maybe we would finally sleep together again. "Are you sure?" I asked. "Yeah," she said comfortably. "I can trust you to behave, can't I?" *No!* my mind shouted, even as I calmly said, "Yes, of course." As I settled into the guest bedroom that night, disappointed to be sleeping alone, I was still delighted with how the evening had gone. Really, it had been like old times. We went out shopping for dinner on the way home, pushing a shopping cart side by side and bumping our hips into each other's as we playfully meandered down the aisles. We chatted like comfortable lovers, and I could feel myself becoming attuned to her rhythm. Not wanting to blow it, I kept my hands to myself. Our conversation on the other hand had been stressful, though they were eventually heartening. I froze for a moment when Rebecca opened the door to our house. What a mess!. Strangely, I felt embarrassed, as if Rebecca's disarray reflected poorly on me. After a moment's thought, I just shrugged, realizing I shouldn't have been surprised. After all, I had been the one who did the housework. Rebecca didn't give even a hint that the clutter bothered her, and saying something couldn't possible do anything good, so I kept silent. After a moment's hesitation, which I hoped Rebecca had missed, I just wandered in and deposited my grocery bags on the one clear space on the kitchen counter. After dropping off her bags, Rebecca went right up to change, telling me to grab a drink if I wanted one. All of a sudden I started to feel somewhat anxious to be back in my home, alone with Rebecca. It reminded me of high school when my then girlfriend, Susan, invited me to her house while her parents were away. I just knew it couldn't be as good as it seemed, and sure enough, the freedom to do whatever we wanted made both of us really apprehensive instead of liberated. Like I had done then, I made a gin and tonic. Back then it finally did lead me to the promised land, though I figured this time all it might do is make me a little less anxious. I found our liquor cabinet crammed with many different types of scotch, vodka, and gin, which was something new. I didn't like what it might mean. Either Rebecca had men hanging around, or she was drinking a lot, or both. Unable to overcome my curiosity, I poked around a little in the living room, but all I could find was evidence that things ended up where Rebecca had used them last. I failed to turn up anything to indicate that men had been there, except for all the whiskey, and became overcome with guilt just for looking. That drove me into the kitchen, and I started getting things ready for dinner. It was obvious that Rebecca hadn't been doing much cooking because even with all the mess on the counters, all the pot and pans were put away. As I started to set up, Rebecca came back. "I've put some clothes on the bed in the guest room so you can change from your work clothes." She had changed into loose shorts and a tank top. "That suit is far too nice to risk by cooking in it. DKNY?" "No, Jones New York. Don't you just love the color?" I wore a pale lavender, just right for summer. "You look relaxed." "If I can't dress down in my own house when my dearest friend is here, then when can I? Go change. I promise not to ruin any food till you get back." She gave me a sweet smile. I headed upstairs to see what she'd left for me. On the bed, I discovered a pair of white capris, with big red roses printed all over them and a sleeveless, slightly cropped red tank top. The two had obviously been purchased to be worn together because the red of the top matched the red of the flowers; and they were my size. Looking at the tank, I knew I'd be showing the skin on my back when I bent over. Realizing that my panties would also be showing at the same time, I wondered what Rebecca would think when she noticed the scalloped waist band of the light purple panties I had selected to match my suit. Would she find that hint of lace sexy? Or would she think that her husband was a total sissy? When she saw the shoulder straps of the matching bra peak out from the tank, how would she react? I so wanted her to find me attractive, but she liked men, and here I was turning myself into a woman. Even my discovery of a pair of red espadrilles, with a two-inch wedge heel, that she had left on the floor couldn't totally dispel my gloom. Rebecca had obviously planned my sleep over carefully, which I really wanted to take as a good sign. But still, I couldn't help but wonder whether she was setting me up to get rid of me, rather than simply doing something nice for someone she loved. Why does life have to be so complicated? Not so many minutes later, a mere moment by girl time, I reappeared in the kitchen. I had changed, freshened my makeup, raided Rebecca's lipstick collection for something that matched the red of the top, and played with my hair. Frustrated yet again because I still couldn't figure out how to make it look good after it had been through a long day, I had it at least looking neat. Rebecca had started to make a salad to go with our dinner. Twirling for her, I said, "Thank you. You just happened to have these lying around, huh?" She gave me a crooked smile and cocked her head. "I almost invited you over a few times, but I chickened out. Those have been upstairs for weeks now." I didn't know whether to be pleased or disappointed, but decided that as long as I was finally here, I would simply be pleased. "I've missed you, you know, and I miss this place." "Oh, I'm sure you do," she replied, although she didn't move any closer to me. Instead, she turned the tables on me. "Tell me, what are you thinking?" I sighed. "Oh Rebecca, what do you want to hear?" At first, she simply looked at me without saying a word. Then she turned to pick up the glass of wine she had poured for herself, before straightening up, and turning to look me in the eye. "Who are you?" "Who am I? Wasn't that what this was all about? Who do you want me to be?" "Oh no, you're not getting off so easily. We've been separated for how long now? How many months? While you've been having a grand old time playing at being Sara, what do you think has happened to us?" I closed my eyes in exasperation. "Rebecca, I'm not playing at being Sara. I am Sara." She looked at me like a lawyer who thinks she's sprung a trap. "So, that means Michael's gone for good?" I almost shook with frustration. "Rebecca, I'm Michael. Sara and Michael are the same person. Surely you must know that by now." "I don't know what I know," she replied, a tear sliding from her right eye. Then she looked up at me fiercely. "I used to think you would be the father of my children, but now you look like you want to be the mother. "Rebecca, don't. Please. I love you and I want to be with you and I want us to have children. Would it be so horrible if they ended up having two mommies?" With that, Rebecca broke down entirely, crying in huge sobs, her shoulders heaving violently. My first instinct was to grab her up into a hug, but I hesitated. Would she accept that from Sara? A huge wave of guilt washed over me, rocking me back on my heels. What had I done? My selfish need to be something I could never really be ? a woman ? had destroyed my relationship with the person I loved most in the entire world. Is this what I really want? Or was I being punished for my unfortunate need - at least I thought it was a need - to be a woman. Was it a need, a compulsion, something I just had to do because I had no other choice? Or was it something less, perhaps only something attractive that I liked to do, a compulsion perhaps, but not an obsession or a need. I looked down at myself, my colorful pants covered with delightfully silly flowers. My chest, inflated with fake tits, my hair ? I loved my hair ? straight, dark, and shiny, --falling next to my face and brushing past my shoulders. I had control over all of these things. I did them to myself every day. Did I have to do them, driven beyond my ability to resist? I just couldn't be sure. But I couldn't lie to myself about it either; I simply loved being Sara. Now, having lived her life without interruption for so many months, I adored all the things being Sara entailed, and, I realized, with a clarity that made me shiver, there wasn't much about being Michael that I missed, except. . . except for Rebecca. And I missed Rebecca terribly. I reached out and grabbed her into a warm hug, and then let her cry herself out against my breast while I stroked her hair. When she had stopped and gained control of her emotions again, she gave me a sad little smile. "Sara, I never imagined my life this way. I'm a heterosexual woman who loves men. I love a man named Michael Cohen. I know, in my brain at least, that you're him, but my heart, or perhaps my pussy's not buying it. I don't know if I could live in an intimate relationship with a woman." As negative as she sounded, I understood instantly that I still had a chance. "I know, and I know it's a lot to ask, but I do love you and I believe, believe with all my heart, that you love me too. You do, don't you?" Again, she gave me a sad smile. Then she reached up and stroked my cheek, looking into my eyes. "Yes," she whispered. "Yes, I do." "Well I'm not giving you up," I said grabbing her by the shoulders and holding her slightly away from me. "What can I do to win you back? What can I do to prove to you that we should be living together from now on and for the rest of our lives? Tell me and I'll do it." "You mean as Sara, don't you?" Her question came softly, but struck me with the force of a Hummer. I dropped my hands and lowered first my eyes, and then my head. A moment later my shoulders slumped, and my hair spilled over my face at the same time that shame washed over my heart. I was letting my one true love, Rebecca, down. At that moment, it seemed to me that my cross-dressing had brought me nothing but shame. When I had first started, as a child, I felt ashamed every time I did it. Later shame washed over me every time I got outed. Then I felt ashamed when I finally had to tell everyone I was going to live as a woman full-time, and I was ashamed when I told my parents. Even now, having finally reached a point where I was comfortable as Sara, I was feeling like a horrible failure because my needs caused pain for my wife. Those wretched needs had forced us apart and now seemed ready to doom our marriage. If I got what I needed, Rebecca wouldn't. I got lost in the emptiness of that thought, as if we had already split up. I felt a touch on my arm, which forced me to look up, even though I now had tears in my eyes. Rebecca gazed at me, her brow knitted in concern. "You don't have to say anything right now." Despite the lump in my throat, I managed to croak out, "Yes, yes, I do. Of course as Sara - That's who I am. If nothing else, I now understand that." She nodded, as if finally accepting something that she had been aware of for a long time. She cocked her head and looked at me seriously for an uncomfortably long time. It seemed to me that the creases at the corners of her eyes had suddenly gotten much deeper. I got nervous and wiped the tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand, grinning ruefully at the mascara streaking across it. Then I looked back up and threw my head from side to side to flip the hair off my face. Rebecca still studied me. I didn't know if she was looking for something within me or trying to understand something within herself. Finally, with a quick nod, she straightened her head, and with a tear at the corner of her eye, said, "You want to win my heart, Miss Sara Cohen? Then do it; court me. Prove to me that I should, that I can, live with you." My eyebrows shot up and I rocked slightly backward. Her offer was more than I could ever have hoped for! A smile quickly spread across my face as I thought of the things I could do, the places we could visit. Sara and Rebecca could create new memories together. I almost jumped on her I was so excited. "What a great idea! I'll do it. But you might as well know, I have every intention winning you. We'll be raising our children together, and they will have two mommies. Let's start by me making you dinner. I'm pretty sure I can make something you'll love." Rebecca's, "Okay," came out a little choked with tears, but I ignored them as I swept her up in my arms. As we sat together after dinner and I gazed longingly at Rebecca, feeling really lucky for a change, I remembered a moment I just had to share. "Rebecca, you remember Tom Olden, don't you?" She nodded; he was an old friend. "When we were at the party for his 35th wedding anniversary he said something that I never really understood until right now. We were at the back of the room, on that window seat, the one that overlooks their back yard, watching Beth chatting with friends. 'She's such a remarkable woman,' I said, 'radiant, absolutely beaming." " 'Yes, she is, isn't she? I love her dearly,' he replied. 'I don't know what she ever saw in me.' We sat silently for a few moments, and then he turned to me. 'You know, our marriage has worked out really well, and we have great kids, a wonderful home and terrific friends. There's only one thing I sort of regret.' He looked away for a moment, and I just sat there waiting for him to continue. When he did, he really did sound remorseful. 'When you've been faithfully married all your life, you never get the opportunity to fall in love again. The best I could do was flirt a little, and wonder.' " I turned towards her and grabbed her hands. "Rebecca, don't you see? We're going to get that chance. The one Tom longed for. We're going to get to fall in love again." She looked at me dubiously, but I felt like I was on to something. "Oh, I know we already know each other intimately, but now everything's different. We're new to each other. We'll get to discover our new selves." I could tell by the look on her face that I hadn't convinced her, but I had convinced myself, and I thought that would be all that mattered. Eventually, I would convince her. I also realized that if I couldn't get Rebecca to fall in love with Sara we would divorce. So my wonderful opportunity to experience new love was also a time of extraordinary risk. I'd need to be both enthusiastic and patient, and a shiver, which could have been either from excitement or fear shuddered through me as I thought about it. After a brief pause, Rebecca said, "I'm not making any promises. I can't even tell you that I'm totally hopeful. Knowing that you're going to be Sara for the rest of your life, and knowing that I love men. . . ." She looked down, shook her head, and then looked back up into my face. The truth is, Sara, if a good man comes along, I'm not sure how I'll react. What you want isn't natural for me, and although I love you and only want the best for you, I don't know if I can change." "But you'll at least give it a try right?" It took her an eternity to reply, but she finally nodded her head. "Great! That's all I ask." That night we slept alone, but we were at least in the same house and we both wanted to be there. Chapter XI - Courting I decided to start slowly, thinking she would need time to adjust. On Monday she had flowers on her desk, and on Wednesday we went out to dinner. On Saturday, I invited her to a show in Manhattan, and she stayed over with me at Phillip's apartment, sleeping in the room that Courtney had used. On Sunday, we had brunch with Phillip, along with the utterly charming and delightful young man who had spent the night in Phillip's room. Monday again found flowers, and we shared lunch a couple of times during the week, but she already had plans for the weekend, so I would be alone. Phillip was in town for the weekend, so on Friday we got dressed up and went out to The Palm for dinner. Phillip had insisted that it wasn't as good as it used to be, but I'd never been there and really wanted to try it. I wore a short, black dress with a flirty hem, along with a pair of four-inch "fuck me" stilettos. They hurt my feet after a while, but so what? I blew out my hair so it was at its glossiest best and wore dark eye makeup and bright red lipstick. When we walked in, both of us over six feet tall and looking gorgeous, everyone looked up. I just stood there at Phillip's side posing for the crowd. "You're shameless," he hissed at me after we sat down. "Sorry love," I replied lightly, "but I'm feeling beautiful and I want everyone to know. And I wanted them to see me showing off the hunk I'm with." He just rolled his eyes and turned to look for a waiter so he could order his usual scotch and my orange-flavored martini. I was so excited about my new relationship with Rebecca that I couldn't stop talking about it, except to eat, working my way through a small filet mignon while he absolutely inhaled a huge porterhouse. A lush Cabernet washed it all down and gave me a nice buzz. Later, Phillip's arm around my shoulder, and mine around his waist, we wandered a few blocks east to the U.N. and the East river so we could look at the lights on the 59th street Bridge. After staring for a while in silence, he finally said, "Sara, you'd better be careful." "What do you mean?" I replied, slightly taken aback. "This isn't a done deal - you and Rebecca. She has real reservations about what you want her to do." "Did you talk to her?" "She called me." "And?" He just looked at me for a moment and turning to face me, took my hands in his. "And . . . she asked me to look out for you. Your excitement is obvious to everyone, and she's afraid that if she can't accept being in love with Sara, that you'll be totally crushed." "I will be," I replied quietly, lowering my head so he couldn't see my face because I was all of a sudden feeling small and scared. Was this Rebecca's way of trying to let me down, to have Phillip tell me? "Is there anything else she wanted you to tell me?" I asked, even though I was afraid of the answer. "No," Phillip replied evenly. "I think she's enjoying what you're doing, she's just not sure what the outcome will be." "Well I am," I replied with far more confidence than I felt. "We love each other. We're soul mates. I think once she spends enough time with me, she'll find her comfort level. . . . She just has to." *** I took Phillip's warning more as a challenge than anything else, and vowed to not lose sight of my goal: to make the woman I love fall in love with me again. I cleaned Rebecca's house for her and prepared meals that I put in her freezer. I was tickled to be able to do these things and found it really hard to suppress my enthusiasm. I would have picked up her dry cleaning or shined her shoes had she asked. She even teased about how much I was doing, which I took as a good sign, a sign that she was relaxing. I also increased my doses of hormones. It was time. In fact, it was past time. I didn't know why I had waited. My skin was nice, but I wanted some evidence of hips, a rounder butt, and I wanted my nipples to develop. I had decided that when Rebecca and I renewed our vows, something I knew we just had to do, hopefully on the anniversary of our wedding, I was going to have breasts of my own. In any case, I vowed that whatever else happened, Sara was going to be as much of a girl as she could without that final surgery. I wanted to spend all of my spare time with Rebecca, but she was more cautious. I didn't terribly mind when she wanted to be alone, but she sometimes went out on dates with guys. I didn't understand why she was doing it, at least I didn't want to, and I fretted about her finding that "good man" she had mentioned, but just kept my mouth shut. Even though I stayed at her house more and more frequently, we still hadn't slept together. I felt like a shy teenager, afraid even to kiss her. It's not that we didn't touch, we hugged and held hands and even kissed each other lightly on the lips. I waited for the perfect time to really kiss her again, but the more I waited, the more difficulty I had finding that time. One day, as we were strolling together in a mall, after we had both gotten make over, she put her arm through mine and pulled me into the ladies' room. Then, even though there was someone in one of the stalls, she pulled me to her and kissed me square on the lips, opening her mouth to me, inviting me in. But the toilet flushed just then so we pulled apart and started to play with our makeup in the mirror ? now we both needed to fix our lipstick. I was exhilarated, and we smiled at each other enjoying the secret of what we had just done as the teenage girl washed up next to us. As we headed for the parking lot, she asked, "Sara, why haven't you tried to kiss me yet?" The best I could do was, "Uh? I, I uh, I wanted it to be the perfect time, but it just never seemed to occur." I could feel myself blushing and I looked down and away, letting my hair cover my face. "Uh, and, besides, I was scared." "You're joking!" she blurted out, looking amused. This only made me feel even more embarrassed. As she gazed at me, head cocked, I could see something in her eyes, and she smiled gently. "Sara, do I intimidate you?" "I just don't want anything to go wrong. I'm trying not to rush anything, to let you decide the pace." By this point we were putting our bags into the trunk of her new, red 330ci, which was in a spot right near the mall entrance. Once our hands were empty, she turned to me. "I like kissing you, I've missed it. Would you please kiss me now?" "I, uh . . . here?" She opened her eyes wide and pushed her face towards me, quietly saying, "Yes, here." But I didn't move. As I stood there frozen, Rebecca looking at me like an impatient bus driver waiting for me to find the exact change, I suddenly had a revelation. I was embarrassed! I didn't want to look like a lesbian! I must have turned completely red, because my face got very hot. "What is your problem?" Rebecca demanded, now sounding really impatient. "N? nothing, really." But I still couldn't move. "Omigod! You're embarrassed, aren't you? You don't want people to see you kissing another woman because they'll know you're a lesbian! You are such a fraud!" She sounded amused rather than angry, but she was almost shouting. "N? no, that's not true. And please, keep your voice down. Everyone can hear you." "Of course it is," she replied, trying to stifle a laugh. "I can't believe it. You want us to live together as women, but you're embarrassed to kiss me in public! And I thought I was the one with the problem." With that, she burst out laughing. I stood there feeling totally stupid for a few moments, and then I started to laugh too. When we were starting to calm down, and while everyone within earshot stared at us, almost certainly thinking that Rebecca was straight and I was a lesbian trying to get her into a relationship, I shrugged my shoulders, grabbed her face in my hands, and then covered her lips with mine. She immediately opened her mouth, welcoming me in, and this time I didn't hesitate to take her offer. Her hands went around my shoulders, like they always used to and we just melted into each other. She felt and tasted utterly delicious, and our tongues found each other in familiar old ways that made us both shudder and sigh. Within just a couple of seconds, the entire world consisted of Rebecca's lips and tongue, which I couldn't explore quickly enough. We parted from our kiss less than a minute later, as Rebecca pulled slightly away and whispered into my ear. "It's about time, you jerk." "I was just scared, afraid you'd reject me," I whispered back. "I couldn't face that." She pulled back even further and spoke in a normal tone of voice. "Well, now that we've gotten over that hurdle, let's get one thing clear. You want me to make big changes in my life that will force me to change how I view myself. If you can't handle all the implications of that, there's no way, we'll ever get to where you say you want to go. I'm certainly not going to sneak around, and if you want to be my hus?, uh, girlfriend, you better be willing to let everyone know that's who you are." "I'm sorry Rebecca. This is all new to me, too. I'd be terribly proud to be your, uh . . . girlfriend, wife even, if you'll have me . . . and this won't happen again. I swear." "This is just too weird. Let's get out of here." Rebecca shook her head in disbelief and turned to walk to the driver's side door. After that our time together often involved serious necking. Although I desperately wanted to make love to her, Rebecca seemed content with the way things were, which I actually thought was kind of ironic; it was like being back in high school. Over the next couple of weeks, Rebecca became increasingly more comfortable with me, and ever more playful, just as she used to be. Holding hands, walking with our arms around each other, and kissing became normal parts of our lives. Three weeks later, she invited me stay the night, which I had done a number of times. Each time, Rebecca would leave me a gift on the bed in the guest room: clothes, lingerie, perfume ? girlfriend gifts. After depositing the groceries and grabbing a drink, I hurried up to see what she had for me this time. I gave a little gasp when I saw on the bed a beautiful and downright sexy set of lingerie, camisole, tap pant, and garter belt, in deep navy blue with emerald lace accents. They were lying on top of a sheer navy peignoir, with the same emerald lace, along with dark stockings and very high-heeled sandals with a bow across the toes. I jumped when I heard Rebecca whisper behind me. "I want you to sleep with me tonight." I hadn't heard her walk up, and as I turned towards her, the camisole in my hand, she went on. "And I intend to take all that off you, one piece at a time." "Are you sure?" I asked. I didn't want anything to ruin the growing warmth between us, and as much as I wanted to feel her naked body next to mine, and to hold her in my arms, I was a little worried about how she would react to me in her bed. I hadn't told her that I had been taking hormones. There had been several opportunities, like when I had started, right after I got my beard lasered off, or when I finally realized that I would always be Sara, and had upped the dose some, or when Rebecca had challenged me to court her, when I really upped the dose, the most my endocrinologist would permit. My aureoles had enlarged slightly and my nipples had started to thicken. There didn't seem to be much of anything going on behind them yet, but Rebecca was sure to notice the changes that had occurred. She smiled, as if to reassure me. "Just get dressed and meet me downstairs. I'll go change too; I'm really in the mood for a romantic evening with my new girlfriend. There's finger food in the fridge, so if you beat me, start laying it out." With that, she turned around and walked down the hall to her room. My heart was beating really fast, and as I turned back towards the bed I realized my breathing was starting to get out of control as well. So I took a few slow, deep breaths to calm myself, and then undressed. The tap pants were delicious, and it was nice to allow my penis and balls to hang free for a change. She hadn't included a bra, so I figured Rebecca wanted me without my breast forms. The camisole, however, was so slinky as it caressed my skin that I didn't care about being flat-chested. It only took a few moments to hitch the garter belt over my hips and get the stocking attached before I wrapped the peignoir around my body, snuggling it close to myself for a few moments. My skin tingled, and as I raised my hand up my chest, I could feel my slightly swollen nipple. I had the cheeses, bread, and fruit artfully arranged on a silver tray before Rebecca flowed into the room. She wore a similar outfit, but hers was a pale cream color with paler, almost white lace. She gave me a huge smile and swivelled over to where I stood, open-mouthed. "You look lovely," she said, reaching out and caressing my cheek with her soft palm. "S ... so do you, just gorgeous. I never. . . ." At that moment, she lowered her hand down from my face, and then let it slip down my chest, over the slippery fabric. Before I could do anything, her fingertips ran over my nipple and stopped there. She cocked her head and one eyebrow. "Re. . . ." She cut me off. "Is this what I think it is?" she asked, stepping back and exploring more carefully. Then dropping her hands entirely, she asked more calmly than I might have, "Is there something you want to tell me?" Maybe I should have thought about it longer, but I just blurted out, "I've been on hormones. I started on low doses right after we split up and recently went to a higher dose. A doctor is prescribing them." Her eyes narrowed and she pursed her lips. "Yes, I thought so. Your skin has been so soft and your hair so full and glossy, and your features seem softer too. Let me see." "See?" I pulled back slightly. She grinned to disarm me. "Yes, let me see your chest." I stepped forward, and eased open my robe. She ran both her hands down my chest, sending a thrill through me and causing me to gasp as her hands ran over my nipples. When she had reached my hips, she put her hands under my camisole, pushing it up as she slid her hands upwards over my bare skin. When her fingers reached my nipples, she slightly separated her index finger from her third finger and ran them along either side of both nipples. Then she twirled her thumb around them before finally lifting the camisole completely to my shoulders so she could see my chest. I stared at her intently as she did all this, fearing all the while that she would turn and run. But she didn't. Instead, she let the camisole fall back into place. "Well, you have a long way to go don't you?" I just nodded. A frown flickered across her face. "Does it still work?" Before I could do anything, she reached down to my crotch and carefully ran her hand over the tap pants. She smiled as she felt my partially engorged penis swell even further at her touch. She grabbed it gently, rubbing the slinky nylon fabric over it a few times until I was fully erect. "It does!" she exclaimed, brightly. Then she let go, walked past me towards the food and patted me fondly on the ass. "I'm hungry how 'bout you?" I didn't know what I was, except totally unsure of myself. "Rebecca, you discover I'm on hormones, and all you can say is that you're hungry?" "Yes, love." She reached out for my hand, which I gladly gave her. "I didn't just discover it, I simply confirmed it," she continued with a small smile. "And frankly, I'm relieved. It was something you had to do; we both know that. And as I said, there were clues." She rubbed my smooth cheek. "I've read all about your physical changes you know. Did you think I'd let you do this without learning as much about it as I could?" "Why didn't you say something?" I asked. "Sweetie, why didn't you say something? You were the one keeping the secret," she accused gently, before dropping my hand and reaching for a strawberry. I just stood and stared at her. Why hadn't I told her? All of a sudden I wasn't sure. It had seemed so clear that I shouldn't, but now I didn't know why. Yes I do. "Because I was afraid you'd run away," I exclaimed. She cocked her head and looked at me, smiling slightly. "No, I don't think I would have," she finally replied. "You really don't give me enough credit. You told me you were Sara and it seemed clear to me that there's no way you could be Sara without hormones, and eventually breasts of your own, and who knows what else. You're going to have to be far more honest with me if you want this work." I felt chastised, like a little girl caught lying to her mother. I wanted to run away, to cry, to just disappear. "Rebecca," I started, without even knowing what I was going to say. Rebecca turned to face me. "No, I really wasn't being honest with you just now. In the past, I might have run away. You knew how I felt about you having breasts, so it's not surprising you kept the hormones a secret, but I've totally changed my mind. "Wha . . . ?" She again put her fingers to my lips. She sighed. "I met a man." My eyes went wide, my mouth dropped open, and I could feel my stomach fall and heart accelerate. "You? you're going to leave me, so you just don't care?" A feeling of dread started to envelop me and I could see my future disappear. "Oh no, nothing like that," she responded quickly, shaking her head. "I'm sorry I said that. I started the wrong way. But I did meet a man, and he did change my mind." I could feel my heart start to slow, but I was still really anxious. Rebecca went on before I could figure out what to say. "Listen - don't worry ? just listen. I met him waiting to change flights at O'Hare. He was on his cell phone and when he got off, he was just beaming. 'Wow,' I said to him. 'You look like you just won the lottery.'" "'No,' he replied, 'better. My wife just got her bone scan results back and everything was negative. Her doc says she doesn't need to see her for a year.' I wasn't sure what he meant, so he clarified it for me. 'She had breast cancer. They did surgery and then chemo and now she's clean. This is the best news we've had in years.'" I nodded to indicate that I understood what she was telling me. "I asked him if his wife had a mastectomy, because that would be so difficult." "'Two,' he said nodding. 'It was horrible. She was so depressed.' He looked down for a moment and then nodded to himself before looking up and going on, 'And so was I. I couldn't imagine her without her breasts. I was bitter and angry that fate had done this to me, and started to withdraw. She figured out what was going on and got angry with me. Things between us got really tense. Then, one day in my husbands' support group, I let it all hang out, figuring I would get lots of sympathy from the other guys. Instead, they really got on my case. One of them said, 'What? You married her for her tits?' They forced me to tell them about her, why we had gotten married and why we were still together, and you know what, breasts weren't on the list. I mean, I liked them and all, and frankly, seeing a woman with a nice pair is still a thrill, but how stupid would I have to be to let breasts be the thing that made or broke our marriage. She has such courage, such strength, such warmth. For reasons I can't quite understand, she loves me, and that makes me feel terrific. When you think about what really counts, breasts just aren't that important. Where else would I find a woman like Elizabeth?'" I silently blessed this man and his wife. They'll never know what they did for me and Rebecca. Rebecca sat there pensively, her head down. "That's what changed your mind?" I asked. She looked back up at me and simply nodded, a rueful smile on her face. "I was such a fool to make a physical trait so important." And with that, she bent down and gently kissed both my nipples through my camisole. I purred. "If you want to get implants, please do." She cocked her head and smiled slightly. "Sooner rather than later, I think. I don't want anything to happen to this big boy while you're waiting for hormones to work." With that, she reached down and rubbed my penis through my panties and continued to fondle me until I was again fully erect. This is something I'm quite fond of." I was thrilled. This was more than I could have ever hoped for. "Rebecca. . . ." I started. But I didn't get any further. She put her finger to my lips. "Shhh." Then she removed her finger and replaced it with her lips, giving me a soft kiss. "Let's eat, and then let's make love. And the next time you decide to make an important step in your transition, let's talk about it. Okay?" I slowly nodded. I wanted to talk some more, but thought better of it. So I retied my robe and stood next to her at the counter as we nibbled different things from the tray, giggling and sometimes feeding things to each other. Later, in bed, I did my best to thank her for her generosity of spirit and she did her best to cram my cock into her as many ways as she could. By the time we were done, we were both exhausted, and she quickly fell asleep in my arms. But I couldn't sleep, and after thirty minutes or so, I gently untangled myself and got out of bed. I pulled my peignoir around myself and tiptoed out of the room, softly closing the door behind me. Then I sat on our couch, pulled my knees up to my chest, wrapped my arms around them and cried. Lying in bed with Rebecca, I had realized not only how much I loved her, but how much what I was doing must be hurting her. As I sat there with my guilt, I was having a hard time living with myself. Chapter XII - Recalibrating "Honey, are you okay?" Someone was stroking my shoulder. I was instantly awake, jumping slightly at her touch. She looked squarely at me as I tried to straighten out my robe and pull the hair out of my mouth. "What are you doing here?" She sat next to me and turned to look me in the eye. "I thought we had a really good time last night." "Oh, we did," I exclaimed, grabbing both her hands and sort of shaking them for emphasis. "Then what?" A sob caught in my throat, and I had to clear it before I could look at her. "We did, we really did, and it made me realize how much I love you, a?and then how much I must be hurting you. I hate myself for what I'm doing to you. I just can't bear it." Tears poured freely from my eyes. Rebecca let me go for twenty seconds or so, and then pulled my hands sharply. "You narcissistic little twit," she hissed at me. "It's just as if I'm not here at all. You think you're the center of the universe and everyone else just revolves around you. I got news for you hon; you're wrong." I was so startled, she might as well have slapped me in the face. "But I?" "Exactly . . . you, you, you. You are so self-absorbed you've forgotten who you're married to. Do you think I can't take care of myself? Do you think I can't analyze what's going on and figure out what's best for me? Do you think I can't make sound decisions? Frankly, my dear, you're the one we need to look out for!" She stood up, shaking her head angrily, as she stalked around in a small circle until she came back to stand in front of me. I looked up at her, while nervously tucking my hair behind my ear. I was afraid to say anything. I pulled the peignoir around my legs. She put her hands on her hips and laid it out for me. "You forgot, didn't you, that I'm the one who kept you at a distance after you moved out. Hell," she snorted, "I had to get you into treatment for your depression. I'm the one who invited you here. And it's not your call whether we stay together or not, it's mine. You, my dear, are the weak one in this relationship, and you are the one everyone else is worried will crash and burn. I'm worried about you, your family is worried about you, our staff is worried about you, and Phillip is so concerned he has just about given up his social life to make sure he's there for you." I blinked rapidly, trying to absorb what she was telling me. She slowly shook her head and closed her eyes for a second before continuing. "If I didn't love you so much or had decided I wanted you out of my life, you would have been gone long ago. I have more desirable men chasing me than you have shoes! So don't worry about me and work on getting your own act together." Her anger seemingly spent, her face lost its edge, and she smiled at me the way an indulgent mom smiles at a kid who is really proud of the crayon drawing she just made on the wall. Then she squatted in front of me, placed her hand on my cheek and leaned forward to kiss me softly but briefly on the lips. "Go start the coffee and lay out the things for breakfast, then come join me in the shower. We're both covered with stuff we need to wash off." I didn't move for a few moments after she left. It wasn't that I was trying to understand what she had, said, I was so startled that my mind was blank. Eventually I got up, quickly started the coffee and set out everything else, and headed for the bedroom, a little worried about what would happen next. When I got there, however, it was as if our conversation had never happened. Rebecca was warm and funny, just like the day before. Not wanting to spoil the mood, I didn't say anything either, content just to wait for Rebecca to bring it up again. Sure enough, right after breakfast, she did. "Did you understand what I said before?" She patted her lips with her napkin. "Not really. And I'm sure I don't know why you got so angry." She pursed her lips and shook her head. "I'm sorry about that; I guess I was holding it in a little too long. But really, you have been so totally clueless. Sure you've worked hard to become a lovely woman. . ." I looked away, feeling my cheeks warm. ". . .but aside from your job, the rest of your life is in shambles. You've been living in the city for over a year. Have made any new friends? Have you visited any of our old friends? Do you have any friends at all? Do you have any hobbies? Have you been to Shabbat services? Have you spoken to Rabbi Strauss? Have you spoken to your folks . . . to Leah?" I had to shake my head no repeatedly. I was pretty much a hermit. "No, of course not. You spend all your time alone. Frankly, my little Miss Sara, you're not yet healthy enough to be a partner to me. You're not complete enough; you're more like a teenager. All you've done in all this time is learn how to present yourself as a woman. It's all been about how you look - little feminine gestures, inflections, a wardrobe . . . and that's just not enough." She hesitated for a moment, stood up straight, put her hands on her hips, and then stared down at me. "You're plenty cute, but I don't need a trophy wife. I need a life partner. You're really a sweet woman, but you're nowhere near the person Michael was. There was so much more to him than just good looks and a nice dick!" When she stopped, I realized I had been holding my breath, so I let it out in a big sigh. Rebecca had nailed me. Aside from work, I had put all my efforts into developing Sara's look. I hadn't reached out to anyone, and hadn't even been good at letting people reach out to me. Now, I was beginning to see how that self-centeredness might even cost me Rebecca. With her I was like a puppy dog, submissive, constantly seeking approval and doing whatever it took to get it. Sara wasn't really like Michael at all. Michael wasn't tentative or submissive; he was assertive. He used his intellect to get things done; he was creative and didn't back down from challenges. Looking at it like that, it didn't take a genius to figure out that Sara, as she now was couldn't ever be enough for Rebecca, unless perhaps she wanted to hire me as her maid, and that didn't look likely either. I had a long way to go before Sara became the woman who could match Michael as a human being. And in that moment, I had a little revelation. It was my fear, my old cross-dresser's fear, of being humiliated that held me back. If I was to become the kind of woman Rebecca wanted, a strong one like herself, I would have to overcome that fear and just start to deal with people, no matter how uncomfortable, or even fearful, it made me. "I see," I finally managed to get out. "You're right. I've been totally focused on myself and how I look to other people. I've been so focused on how I appear that I haven't worked on anything else." "So there is a brain in that pretty little head," she said a little too sweetly, making me wince. "Yes, but with all the . . . uh . . . shortcomings you spelled out, it sounds more like you want to get rid of me than anything else. If you want, I'll just leave." She frowned and scolded me as if I was her teenage daughter who had just thrown a little tantrum. "Don't get petulant with me. You're behaving like a child. I want to know what you're going to do next. Since the time you started 'courting' me, as you put it, you've proved you can be a good and attentive maid, and that you're totally afraid of me." "I'm not." "Of course you are. You're afraid to do anything you imagine might offend me. You were even scared to kiss me, for G-d's sakes!" "I. . . ." "You've been more tentative than a thirteen-year old boy on his first date. I want you to be an adult, and I'm willing to let you be a woman. That means you have to be an adult woman. I know we have a history together, and I do love you, but all I know about this Sara person is that she's cute and attentive, and scared to death to be herself, whoever that might be. Why in the world would I want to be married to someone like that?" "Rebecca. . . ." I started, my voice rising in frustration. But she wouldn't be stopped. "Don't you Rebecca me you . . . you bimbo!" "Rebecca!" I nearly screamed, jumping up from my seat. "I am not a bimbo!" She paused for a second and seemed to deflate. Then she giggled and looked straight at me. "No, I guess you're not," she said clearly but quietly. Then raising her voice to a more commanding level, she went on, "A bimbo wouldn't just think about her clothes and makeup, she'd think more about sex. You haven't even tried to come on to me. Until last night, I was beginning to fear you didn't find me attractive anymore." "Is that what this is about? Sex?" Her pupils dilated, and for a moment she was speechless, so I just kept going. "Cause if it is, you made it perfectly clear that wasn't going to happen ? until yesterday." I was so frustrated my voice broke down into a lower register, which left me feeling mortified. I was instantly reminded of who and what I really was. My hands flew up to my mouth, and I could feel my face redden. We both glared at each other for a moment, our eyes wide and my hands over my mouth. I didn't know what to think. I couldn't believe I had yelled at her, and given all she'd said, I feared I had completely ruined my chance to get back with her. Then she giggled, and smiled, the small creases she hated formed at the corners of her eyes. I wanted to stay angry, but I giggled too. And then we were both laughing. A few moments later she threw her arms around my shoulders and pulled me to her. "No, it's not about sex," she told me while holding me close. "It's about the kind of a person you're going to be." Then pushing me away to arms length, she said, "Do you have any idea?" "I. . . . I. . . I thought Sara would be just like Michael." "Well then, why doesn't she start acting that way?" She cocked her eyebrow and tilted her head. "I thought I was, I didn't know." Which was true. "So now you do, what are you going to do about it? I want to know the authentic Sara Cohen, not some clothes horse by the same name." Chapter XIII You didn't think it would be that easy, did you? Six months later "That went great!" I sighed, leaning back on the front door, which I had just shut after saying good night to Barry and Diane, the last of our guests to leave. Diane had given me a lingering hug and Barry surprised me by adding a kiss on the lips to his own warm hug. "It was almost like things have been like this forever." "They are the sweetest people, aren't they?" "Yes, it makes me feel stupid to have isolated myself from them for so long." "You were stupid, and if I hadn't kicked you in the butt, you probably still wouldn't have seen them!" "Yeah, I know," I replied walking towards her. I put my arms around her and gave her a hug, turning my head so I could lay it on her shoulder. "Thank you for that. It was a kick I really needed." After lingering for just a moment more, I stood up and grabbed Rebecca by her shoulders to turn her towards the kitchen. Giving her a little pat on the ass, I said, "Now we have to clean up though. Scoot, or we'll be up all night." As she started towards the kitchen, I headed towards the living room to pick up the remains of a lovely evening. Once I had gotten everything into the kitchen and we were sorting through it, Rebecca asked, "You and Marty were gone together for a while after dinner. What was that about?" "That was about him quizzing me to see if being all girlie, as he put it, was what I really wanted to do, and then after I had convinced him that it was, him trying to talk me into letting him feel me up." "What? He came on to you?" "Not hardly. I think he was me, goading me to see if there was any guy still left, and he was just being his usual lewd self. I almost let him do it. I told him the day he beat me at racquetball I'd consider it. But that'll never happen. He's too uncoordinated." "You little slut," Rebecca squealed. "Those are mine and no one else is allowed to play with them." "Oh really? If you want to own them, you better pay close attention to them, or they might start to wander," I teased, sliding over to her and pressing my chest against her back and rubbing my breasts against her. As she turned to look at me to see if I was being serious, I waggled my eyebrows at her. "Well, if you ever start to wonder if I can take good enough care of them, just remember the first time we had sex after they had healed." I unconsciously licked my lips. It was a delicious memory. Rebecca was the kind of lover every girl should have, especially teenage girls for the first time they let a guy feel 'em up. "You were in the kitchen putting away groceries and starting to get things ready for dinner. Remember?" I nodded. The memory was still crystal clear, and utterly delightful. "I was at the counter when I heard you enter the kitchen. I turned and when I saw the predatory look in your eye, I suddenly felt very shy. But you just kept walking toward me until you had forced me to lean back and put my hands on the counter behind me to brace myself. You knew it would thrust my chest out, which was just what you wanted, wasn't it?" She smiled, cocked an eyebrow and looked directly into my eyes, studying me for a moment. As I looked back, I noticed the creases at the corners of her eyes. They really had deepened since this whole thing began, what was it, three years ago, more? I tried to figure it out, but Sara interrupted, saying, "I knew just what I wanted to do. You looked so shy and demure, so very, very sexy. I almost forced you down on the counter to take you right there. But I really wanted it to be gentle and slow and delicious for you. So I stepped back slightly and put my hands on either side of your waist; it felt so soft as I gently caressed you through our blouse. Georgette wasn't it." I nodded, savoring the memories she was bringing back. "Um, you slid them up my waist, to my breasts. When you finally touched them, your palm cupped the outer half and your thumbs lifted and explored the bottoms just above the underwire of my bra. I was on fire. Then you rotated her hands so your thumbs were directly over my nipples. I could feel them tighten; it was exquisite." "Yes, I could feel it. Then I unbuttoned your blouse. It didn't take long, you had already undone the top three, you tease." I blushed. Of course I had unbuttoned them. I had spent ten minutes in front of the mirror trying to figure out how many to leave undone. I had really wanted to leave four or five open, but I chickened out. Three seemed both sexy and demure. "Your breathing was quick, almost out of control, like it always is when you get anxious. I whispered, 'shhh,' and you slowed down. As your chest rose and fell more deliberately. I was mesmerized by the way your breasts lifted and fell with each breath. I had never been so captivated by a pair of breasts before. And you had on the loveliest bra. After all those years of seeing nothing but the full-coverage bras you had to wear with your breast forms, that flimsy little scalloped thing was a revelation, just scrumptious. The sight took my breath away." "You didn't waste much time taking it off though." "No! I could barely contain myself. I wanted to get to those lovely breasts." "You said, 'Oh my,' like you had never seen any before." "Sara, I had never looked at anyone's breasts as sexual objects before. It was as new for me as it was for you." "You said you loved them, that they were perfect for me." "They were. They are! I felt like such a fool for having made them such a big issue. I was totally wrong." That broke the spell. It was time to deal with reality again. "No, no, you weren't. You're a warm, caring, lovely woman, who through no fault of her own got thrown into a confusing mess by her fucked-up trannie husband." She looked up at me somewhat dubiously so I gave an anchor woman nod. Even though I hated the inanity of it, I felt it was just the thing Rebecca needed. I guess it was; she gave me a small smile in return. "Really Rebecca, how could you have been more unlucky than to fall for a guy who was really a girl, only he didn't know, or at least wasn't ready to admit it. And then, after he figures it out, does he have the courtesy to just leave? No. He seduces you into a life of lesbian perversion." I grinned to show I was kidding, and then went on, "You've had to go through a lot of stuff most women don't even dream of, and your willingness to love me just melts my heart and makes me want to do everything for you ? and I will." "Will you, now?" she said cocking her head while a devilish little smile spread across her face. "We'll just have to see about that. Turning completely around so we were facing each other she replied, "Oh, you. You think you're such a big shot. I wonder just how you would respond if some guy came on to you seriously. From what I've seen so far, you'd probably throw yourself at him just to have him suck on your little titties." "No way!" I said with exaggerated outrage. "A guy is the last thing I want. And even if for some crazy reason, I considered it for a moment, the other last thing I want is for some guy to find out how I'm really equipped." I rubbed my pelvis into hers to emphasize my point. "I'm sure I don't want to find out what would happen then." I backed away to start working again. "You and Diane were seriously huddled by the bar for awhile. What was that about?" "Oh, the usual," Rebecca replied airily, flipping her fingers at me. "Is he really a girl, are you a dyke, what's it feel like to be a lesbian ? the kinds of things girlfriends always talk about." I grimaced. "I'm sorry. I wish you didn't have to deal with all that." She turned to face me again, a soapy bowl in one rubber-gloved hand and a sponge in the other. She was oblivious to the small puddle of soapy water that was forming on the floor under the bowl as she spoke. "You know, in a strange way it's fun. It makes me special. To everyone else, I'm living this very adventurous life, doing something a little dangerous, like climbing mountains, and they can only sit home and feel totally ordinary. Even if they would never want something like this to happen to them, they're a little envious because their lives are so ordinary. Beth nearly said as much." "Wow," I replied in mock amazement. "That has to be the most amazing case of pulling a silver lining out of a dark cloud I ever heard of. As you may recall, the last couple of years haven't been that much fun." She stood there looking at me for a few moments, and then in a wistful voice she said, "Yeah, I know. I wouldn't wish them on anyone. But you know what? It's really challenged me as a person. It's made me examine what's really important, and what doesn't matter so much. It's made me consider who I am, and how much of my self image is tied up in what others think of me. I mean, at first people saw me as a victim because you 'did this to me,' then I was a saint for putting up with it, and now everyone who sees but doesn't know us thinks were lesbians. I wasn't sure I could deal with that at first." I could see tears start to form in the corners of her eyes and she turned back to the sink so I wouldn't see how upset she was. Again, I moved over to her, being careful not to slip on the wet floor. I grabbed her around the waist from behind, knowing I had to say something. Before I could figure out what that might be, she spun around to face me again. We were almost nose-to-nose. "No, it's okay," she exclaimed. "Now I see that almost nothing has changed with our close friends and business acquaintances, and I don't much care what others think. Most people couldn't care less what we are, and when I see someone who seems to be disapproving I get angry. How dare they judge me without even knowing me! Lord knows, neither one of us has ever had anything but good relations with gay people - we work with them everyday for God's sakes - but until now I never appreciated the burden they have to carry because some people have these irrational biases. Now that I've been thrust into a position of being seen as a lesbian woman, I'm far less accepting of people who are disapproving. What chutzpah!" I couldn't help it. I giggled. "What are you laughing at?" she asked, fire rising in her eyes. "No. Don't get angry. It's just that for me, being a lesbian would be a real step up from being a trannie. It's something I aspire to!" "To be an outcast, and not a nice heterosexual gal with a nice boyfriend to take care or you?" she challenged. "Do you think that's what my parents want for me?" I asked. To find a guy rather than stay with you and maybe have children one day?" "I'm very proud of you for the way you've brought your parents back into our lives. That was a huge step forward for you." "I don't know how big it was, but it's certainly been strange. My mom treats me like a daughter and we speak almost every day. I sure don't know where that came from." Well, you are her daughter now aren't you? And isn't that how moms and daughters interact?" "You don't speak to your mother that often." She looked at me like I was an idiot. She rarely spoke to her mom, who had become an angry, bitter woman after her husband died. Rebecca described her as toxic, and kept as much distance as possible, which wasn't hard because her mom refused to call her. I tried another example. "And I speak to her far more frequently than either Courtney or Leah, probably both together. Courtney I can understand, she's always working. But Leah? They speak a couple of times a week at most. I don't get it." Rebecca studied me a moment and then said, "Did it ever occur to you, my dear, that you just may be a sweeter person than either of your sisters? One's a trial lawyer and the other's a surgeon. Does that perhaps tell you anything about their personalities?" I'd never thought about it before, but I guess of the three of us, I was the one 'blessed' with the most empathy and the skills to relate to other people. Was I the sweetest, even when I was a guy, I wondered. Then I had a clever idea. The reason I speak to her so much is to protect you." "Me?" "Yeah, you know my mom will never leave us alone till we have kids. As long as she can harass me about it, she'll be less of a pain to you." She looked at me dubiously. I went on, "By the way, are you sure you want to let her get another shot at you this Sunday too?" We now saw my parents on most weekends. "Oh spare me. You are such a fraud," Rebecca teased. "And besides, it's stupid to make excuses for doing something that's good and right. I don't think anyone knows any better than me, how important a good relationship with your mother can be." A corner of her lip twitched, and she frowned for a moment. Then she crinkled her nose at me and a smile took over her face. "Yeah," she said, "I think I do want to give her another shot at me Sunday. It's worth it. You know my family life is nonexistent, and your parents and sisters are so nice to me. I need that. I really don't want to give it up. At least not until I have to." I looked at her closely. I wanted to shout, *You'll never have to give it up if you stay with me,* but then I laughed. "I don't know what you're worried about; if we split up they'll surely keep you and get rid of me." It was supposed to be funny, but I guess it hit too close to home for both of us. We both fell silent. But I knew what she meant. Things between us still weren't settled. That good man might still show up, or she might decide she didn't want to live like this or could never have children with me, even though I was both willing and able. We'd discussed it many times, but I didn't want to go there again right now. I figured that someday I would have to have the operation and go the rest of the way to womanhood- I certainly didn't want to end up in a nursing home as a woman with a cock - but I had lots of living to do, and children to create before that time came, so I tired something else to lighten the mood again. "You remember when Larry came over to fix the furnace?" She giggled. It had been quite a scene. She had stayed upstairs while I opened the door. "You need to face these people," she had said, and I agreed. How could I live in my own town without everyone there knowing who and what I was? We had been there for some years now and everyone knew Michael and that he was married to the lovely Rebecca. By the time Larry made it over, many of the merchants in town had met the new me, but Larry hadn't. How often do you need a furnace repair man? He became so flustered when he figured out who he was talking to that I became embarrassed for him. I let him flee down the basement, because he needed time to collect himself, and I guess basements are places furnace repairmen feel comfortable. He so rushed to get down there that he hit his head on the way down, almost falling over. I gasped, and yelled out, "Larry!" For a moment, until he turned and gave me an embarrassed grin, I thought I would end up kneeling over him holding an ice bag to his bleeding head. But you know what? By the time he came up, he behaved as if Sara had always lived in this house with Rebecca. He was so sweet and so cordial that I almost kissed him on the cheek. I didn't, of course, it probably would have given him a heart attack. Rebecca and I laughed and laughed about it after he left, but I never forgot how sweet he had been, and how accepting. "Yes dear