Sharon's Journey, Part 5 - Storm Clouds free porn video

Sharon's Journey Part V - Storm Clouds Of all the sights she could take in looking out the French doors and across the park, the one Sharon loved most was the view of snow in the evening. As she stood in the far left corner at the front of the living room, she could look down Gramercy Park West to 20th Street. The ground and trees were covered in a thick white carpet, the lights were on in the park, the gaslights outside the buildings on 20th Street were flickering, their dancing flames visible through the falling snow, and people rushed hither and yon, their evening rush tempered with the desire not to miss the simple beauty of nature. She was taking all of this in when, out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a familiar figure - the tall, slim silhouette of her lover, the collar of her dark coat flecked with thick snowflakes, her hair crowned with a dusting of white. She watched Jocelyn approach the house, and was pleased when she turned and, seeing Sharon standing there, waved. But there was something wrong, she could see it in Jocelyn's face as she climbed the steps. She abandoned her post at the window and was back in the kitchen by the time Jocelyn came into the apartment, slipped out of her sodden pumps and hung up her coat. Sharon steeled herself for the worst, the news that a CFO post had once again eluded her. But when they embraced, Jocelyn held her fervently and for a long time and Sharon realized that whatever it was had nothing to do with work. "I'm afraid I have a rather delicate problem," Jocelyn said when Sharon finally asked her what was the matter. "It involves you." "Me? Is something wrong?" "Not exactly." The response sent a shiver down Sharon's spine. "As I was walking home from the bus stop, I was stopped by a man in an overcoat," Jocelyn explained. "He addressed me by name and asked me if I knew anyone named Sharon Boyle. I was afraid that something might have happened to you, so of course I said I did. "He's a private detective who had been hired by your sister to locate you." Sharon sat back, visibly shaken. Jocelyn reached out for her hands and held them. Months before, a friend of hers had walked Sharon through all the necessary steps for changing her name and identity. They had changed everything from her records at Social Security to her driver's license. "These guys have contacts in all the right places," Jocelyn explained. "So they can usually put the pieces together. He knows that the person who was once known as Ray Boyle is now Sharon Boyle, but he probably doesn't know for certain if you're that Sharon Boyle. He did also say that there are people for whom others search who don't wish to be found, and he respects that." "Meaning what?" "I think he means that if you really do not want to re-establish contact with your sister, he will report to her that you are now Sharon Boyle but that he could not locate you. On the other hand, if you would like to see Anita again, he will pass on your contact information and she can take it from there." Sharon buried her face in her hands. "She'll never accept me." Jocelyn slipped an arm around her shoulder and held her. "You think I should do it, don't you?" Sharon asked. "You think I should see her?" Jocelyn turned Sharon to face her. "I think that anyone who would go as far as hiring a private detective to find you must care about you an awful lot. Once he passes your name on to her, she'll know that you've changed, so she'll kind of be prepared for that. I know that's no guarantee of acceptance, but it's a pretty good start." Sharon regarded her lover with a studied gaze, and they both knew what she was thinking. Jocelyn had long been estranged from her family back in New Hampshire. Her having taken a lesbian partner would not have endeared her to them. "I can't correct my mistake," she said with a shrug. "You might be able to prevent one." Without another word, Sharon rose to go put dinner on the table. They didn't speak about it all through the meal, talking about Jocelyn's workday and the progress Sharon was making on her novel instead. It wasn't until they were already in bed that Sharon brought it up. "Tell him I said okay," she said without preamble. "You sure?" "Yeah. I need to know if I have a sister or not." Several days later, a note written on pink stationery arrived in the mail. The return addressee was Mrs. Anita Rossi of Tea Neck, New Jersey. She sat down on the sofa and opened it with great care. Dear Ray, I hope you're not angry with me for finding you like this. But it's been so long since we saw one another, and I feel badly that we seem to have fallen so far apart. As you can see, I'm married, now; Nick and I were married six months ago and I just found out I'm pregnant, and that is another reason why I am anxious to reconnect with you. I see that you have changed your name (and I guess a lot of other things, too). I am anxious to see you. May I come and visit you? Your loving sister, Anita The city had received another dusting of snow the morning that Anita rang the bell. Sharon had agonized over what to wear, and in the end had decided to go with dressy: a grey wool pleated skirt that came to just below the knee, a pink cashmere sweater with a sweetheart neckline, tan stockings and black patent leather heels, her diamond earrings, gold heart locket and a light spritz of perfume. She had just about decided that it was a mistake to see Anita when the buzzer startled her. "Yes?" she said into the intercom. "It's Anita." She buzzed her sister in and went to open the front door of the apartment. "Hi," she said, her voice soft. Anita stared at her in amazement, but said nothing as she came inside and Sharon closed the door behind her. Sharon took her coat and gestured toward the living room. Anita sat on the sofa while Sharon took the chair adjacent to it. "Would you like a cup of tea?" Sharon asked. "Thank you, yes." Sharon went out to the kitchen and returned almost immediately with a tray that held two cups, saucers, a small pot, cream and sugar. "I had a pot already brewed," she explained, and Anita nodded. "This is a lovely place, Ray..." "Thank you, but my name isn't Ray," Sharon said with something of an edge in her voice. "I-I'm sorry. It's just that it's the only name I've ever known you by. You're my brother, and I thought that, just between us, I could still call you..." "Please don't. For one thing, that is not the only name you've ever called me; when we were children and you dressed me up in your clothes, you called me Tina." "We were just children! We were playing pretend!" "And it was the happiest time of my life. The rest of the time as Ray was nothing but misery for me. I was miserable in school, almost suicidal in college, and perpetually depressed as a working adult. "You have no idea how my life has changed. I have a partner who loves me and who I love beyond measure. I have a writing career that is beginning to flourish, and I have friends and a social life. "This is not an illusion," she continued, standing up and gesturing to her appearance. She touched her breasts and said, "These are real. These," she added, placing her hands on her rounded hips, "are real, too, thanks to hormone therapy." "Have you actually had..." "Surgery? No. My doctor and I agreed that it was better that I not go through that. But I am in all other respects a woman. "When you call me 'Ray', what you're really saying is that you don't want me to have any of that. You want me to go back to being depressed, feeling worthless, feeling like I'm living the wrong life. You're saying that you want me to go back to what I was before Jocelyn came into my life." "Jocelyn? Who's Jocelyn?" Sharon regarded her with disbelief. "Jocelyn is my partner, my lover. She owns this place. She made it possible for me to become Sharon." "Wait a minute. Do you mean to say that you went through all this so you could carry on a charade of being a lesbian?!" Sharon stood and walked to the front window. "I'm sorry, R? Sharon, but I'm just trying to understand. You went to all the trouble to become a woman so you could make love to a woman? Wouldn't it have been easier to remain a man? "I don't know if you realize it, but you are in a very precarious situation. You're not married, so you don't have the institutionalized protection of marriage. If this woman throws you over, you'll be left with nothing. Worse than nothing! You'll have no prior history, and any of your history that you try to resurrect will highlight the fact that you are a transsexual, or whatever the PC term is these days. "Here's what I think: I think this woman used you and is using you for her own kinky desires; you are her plaything. And as soon as she gets bored, she will toss you aside and move on. And you'll be left without a life. But you won't be able to reverse what those hormones have done to you; you'll be stuck with it." Silence hung in the air. Sharon finally turned to face her sister, her eyes glistening. "I don't mind what I am," she said at last. "In fact, I love who I am, now. You're the one with the problem. What's the matter? Afraid of how the Rossi family of Tea Neck will react when they find out their son has a sister-in-law who they thought was a brother-in-law? "Let's face it, Anita. Ever since Mom and Dad died, all you ever wanted was a fairy tale, American dream life. So, now you're on your way. Good for you. "I don't have a problem with the choices you've made for your life. Why should you have a problem with the ones I made for mine? For that matter, you knew before you came here that I had changed my identity to a woman; did you come just to try to talk me out of it?" They glared at each other for several moments. "Maybe I shouldn't have come," Anita said at last. "Maybe you shouldn't have." Sharon retrieved her sister's coat from the dining room chair across which she had draped it and held it out. Anita took it slowly and put it on. "What exactly did you come for?" Sharon asked. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I really didn't." "Right. And all I have to do to make things perfect is to figure out a way to reverse all the changes in me, do a complete 180 on the kind of person I am, and live the kind of life you think I should live. Goodbye, Anita." In the spring, Sharon again volunteered to help with the park's arbor group, and she, Julie, Amber and Karen met each morning to prune, weed, fertilize and plant. Afterward, they would walk over to the coffee shop and chat for a while. "I wish they had some brandy to give this stuff a jolt," Karen complained one morning. "You're not doing yourself any favors," Amber replied. Julie looked at her in alarm; Karen looked at her in surprise. Amber shrugged, "Sometimes, I think the best thing is to just be blunt." "Yes," Sharon said, "but perhaps you shouldn't be quite so good at it." They all chuckled and the tension was broken. "I'll pass on the advice session," Karen said at last with a shrug. "Thanks all the same." And she left. "I know, I know," Amber said when she'd gone. "I'm a bitch." "No, you're a friend," Julie replied. "It's just that I don't think shock therapy is going to work this..." She stopped suddenly, looked panicked, and then got up and ran for the ladies room. "What's that all about?" Sharon asked. "I bet I know," Amber replied. A few minutes later, Julie returned, looking a little green around the edges but otherwise okay. "Sorry about that," she said. "My stomach's been kind of rocky lately. I was going to tell you anyway, but now seems like a good time. I'm expecting." Sharon and Amber squealed with delight and hugged and kissed her. The baby was due in November. Five years was more of a gap than she and Jack had wanted, but she'd had conceiving. "Right now, I just hope everything goes all right," she said. "You know you can always call on us anytime," Sharon said, and Amber echoed it. She hated it when Jocelyn went into the office on Saturdays. She didn't do it often, and Sharon knew it was necessary, but because she worked so hard during the week, Sharon resented the extra claim on her lover's time. Of course, the fact that on such occasions, they always made Saturday night extra special did take some of the sting out of it. She sighed and returned to working on her novel. With 30,000 words already written, she was really excited about it. Jocelyn had read the first chapter and pronounced it brilliant, but then she was prejudiced. A knock at the door startled her. No one had buzzed, so she was a little nervous. Could someone have slipped into the hallway? "Yes?" she called when she got to the door. "Sharon? It's Alicia. Got a minute?" Relieved, she opened the door, dressed in white capris, yellow top and gold ballet flats. "Thanks," Alicia said. "Those are cute," she added, gesturing to her feet. Sharon thanked her and offered her a cup of tea. "No; thanks anyway. I have a lot of things to do. But I had something I need to talk to you about, something rather delicate. "I was doing my spring cleaning this morning, and I came across some things in David's closet: a dress, some lingerie, a couple of skirts and tops. I don't know about any of the other things, but the dress I recognized as one of yours; a floral print shirtdress with a pink background. How could he have gotten it?" "I put that out with some other things of Jocelyn's and mine for charity. We do that periodically," Sharon said. "So, he couldn't have broken in and stolen it?" "No," Sharon replied with a gentle laugh. "We keep this place locked up pretty tightly when we're not home. Besides, David wouldn't do anything like that. He's very sweet." "That's what concerns me. He's too sweet for his own good. I realize that you probably think this is okay, but...I have to ask you, because I know he is very fond of you, if he should turn to you for advice or guidance, please try to steer him away from...this." "May I be frank?" Sharon asked. Alicia nodded. "David is who he is going to be. Please don't try to change him, because it will only cause you both pain. He is very sweet, and he probably feels that is at odds with what a guy is supposed to be, and so he expresses it by dressing as a girl. "It's possible that he may wish he was a girl, and if so, you can't change that. Or he might just be happy looking and feeling like a girl from time to time, and you can't change that, either." "You sound like you know a lot about this sort of thing." "I've learned a thing or two over the years," she said with a smile that quickly faded. "Mostly, I've learned how much it hurts when someone very close to you refuses to accept who you are and tries to change you." Alicia sat down at the dining room table. Sharon sat down next to her. "Please don't be insulted," Alicia said. "It's just that he's only 13, and if there's any chance I can help him to be a normal kid, I'd be a pretty rotten mom if I didn't take it." "I'm not insulted. You're a wonderful mom. You love your son and desperately want to do what's best, and if I'm ever lucky enough to have a child, I'll love them just as much. "But the thing with trying to put square pegs in round holes is that sharp edges hurt a lot, no matter how good the intentions might be. Right now, you only know that he likes to dress up; you don't know why. I think the very best thing you can do right now is to find out why." "How do I do that?" "Ask him," Sharon said with a shrug. "Don't accuse him. Just tell him what you found, what you realize it means, and then ask him what he likes so much about dressing like a girl. The answer will tell you the why, and the 'why' will guide everything else." Alicia got up to go. "Thanks," she said as she got to the door. "I have the distinct feeling you've had some personal experience with this sort of thing." "A long time ago," Sharon said, and gave her tenant a hug. With the heavy work in the park done for the spring, Julie and Amber started coming to Sharon's for morning tea, as the soft spring breezes gently swirling through the open French doors made the living room feel like a Paris sidewalk caf?. It also provided more privacy for when one of the girls had something sensitive to discuss, as Amber did this morning. "So, wait," Julie said. "You're saying that this was not a sleepover like we had when we were 13?" "Are you kidding?" Amber replied. "Those five little sluts made it look like a VS fashion show. And my darling little KC was the worst of the bunch, prancing around in a corset, g-string and thigh highs." Sharon tried to stifle a laugh, but couldn't. "And that's not the worst of it," Amber went on, turning more serious. "I caught bits and pieces of their conversations, and it was all sex. And not, 'oh, I like Johnny, he's so cute, I really wanna make out with him'. These girls were talking, graphically, about what they wanted to do and who they wanted to do it with." "What did Frank have to say about all this?" Julie asked. "That was the worst part of it. He couldn't get enough of them! The guy was overwhelmed with Lolita syndrome, all those nubile young things prancing around in skimpy lingerie that left almost nothing to the imagination! A couple of the little tramps actually flirted with him; I thought he was going to blow his load right there!" "Amber!" Julie exclaimed. "Well, I'm sorry. As it was, he got up a little while after we went to bed to go satisfy himself. I was so disgusted, I pretended to be asleep. "I let him have it yesterday, though, after the Middle School Madame and her friends had gone home. I told him that while there is a slim chance that she's still a virgin, she probably won't be by the next time he sees her. It'll be a miracle if she's not a mother by the time she's 16." "And his reaction?" Sharon asked. "He tried the, 'Oh, she's just a kid' nonsense, but I shot that down pretty quickly. I also told him that I did not appreciate him ogling schoolgirls no matter how nubile or scantily clad they were. And when he tried to deny that he'd ogled them or that they'd come on to him, I reminded him of his trip to the bathroom." Julie and Sharon exchanged glances while Amber choked her anger back down. "The thing is, he knows KC's a willful little bitch, and he's been leaving it to me to deal with her. Well, that's not going to work, because her mommy and daddy do whatever she wants. And now that what she wants is sexual, the chickens are coming home to roost; but they're not going to roost with me, I can tell you that. "I've laid down the rules. When she's in my house, she behaves by my rules. No more sleepovers, no wild sex talk, no dressing like a slut, no foul language." "How did she react?" Sharon asked. "She pouted to her daddy, like she always does. But this time, he backed me up. I think he knows how serious this is." "He knows he could lose you," Julie said. "Yes, he does." For the first time since she had started the novel, Sharon had writer's block. She simply could not formulate a coherent sentence to move her story forward. She called Julie to see if she wanted to come over this afternoon, but Megan had come home from kindergarten sick to her stomach. "Didn't help my stomach much," Julie groaned. "Sorry about that. Call me later, when you feel better, okay?" She said she would. The phone rang about twenty minutes later, and Sharon thought, "That was fast" as she picked it up to answer. "Hi, darling," Jocelyn said, her voice full of just a little too much cheer. Sharon scrunched up her toes, knowing what was coming. "I really hate to do this to you, but one of our managers in Charlotte had a sexual harassment complaint filed against him, and HR thinks it's a major issue. They've scheduled a meeting in the morning so I have to fly down tonight." "Will you at least be home tomorrow night?" "I should be, yes. I'm sorry. Things had been settling down, but this is a special problem." "I know," Sharon said as brightly as she could manage it. "It's okay." "I love you," Jocelyn said. "With all my heart." "I love you, too. Stay safe." She felt empty as she hung up the phone, and she decided that getting out for a walk would be the best thing for her. She slipped on a light sweater and grabbed the park key from the dish on the mantle. She was just closing the apartment door behind her when she heard a familiar voice from above her on the stairs. "Sharon? Can I talk to you?" "Sure, David. Come on down." She was a little startled to hear the clop of heels on the stairs, and the pink heels she'd given him were the first things she saw; then tan stockinged legs, then the floral print shirtdress. His longish hair was combed to look more feminine, he wore clip on earrings and a cheap faux pearl necklace, and some lipstick, rouge and eye makeup. "Very nice," she said, gesturing him to enter the apartment. With the door closed, she said, "If you are going to come downstairs dressed up, you'd better be discreet. The Nelsons up on three are retired and sometimes come in and out during the day." "Do I look like a girl?" She smiled at him. "You look very nice. The makeup needs some work - a little more eyeshadow, less eye liner, less mascara. Lipstick and rouge are about right. But the dress is much older than one a girl your age would wear, and your hair, although better, still looks like a boy's haircut." His face fell, and she patted his hand. "There are a lot of unconscious things about a guy that say 'guy', and it takes a lot of work to overcome them." "I just want to be able to pass." She offered him tea, which he accepted. When he's taken his first sip, he smiled at the lipstick he left on the cup. But the smile faded quickly. "My mom knows. I thought I hid everything really well but she found it doing spring cleaning. Or at least, that's what she says." Sharon nodded. "She told me she talked to you. I'm real sorry..." "Don't apologize. She was concerned because she recognized the dress." "That's what she told me, too." "What else did she say?" Alicia had told him that she loved him more than anything else in the world, and that she could probably get used to the fact that he liked to dress, but she wanted to know why he liked it so much. "What did you tell her?" "I said that I really felt different when I was wearing girls' clothes - like everything was soft and pretty, and I loved feeling that way. She asked me if when I wore your dress, I pretended I was you. I don't know what would have made her ask that, but I told her the truth - that I think you're beautiful, and a wonderful person, and if it were possible I would probably be in love with you, but that I wanted to be me." Sharon patted him on the hand. "And then Mom said that it sounded okay with her. She said she still wasn't comfortable about it, but she was glad it wasn't something that I was hurting myself with. She said she could accept me wanting to be girly if I could accept her being uncomfortable for a while." "Sounds fair to me," Sharon said. "Do you have a femme name for yourself?" "That's so weird!" he gasped. "Mom asked me the same thing. Yeah, I do. Deanna. And we have a closet in that spare bedroom that Mom said I can use for Deanna's things." "Sounds like a good deal to me." She called George and asked him out to dinner for the evening, if he didn't have any plans. As it happened, Rod was working late. "You angel of mercy, you!" he exclaimed. "You have just saved me from the horror of a Friday night in. In return, you must allow me to take you rather than the other way around. I know a wonderful northern Italian place on Bleecker, just opened, owned by a friend of mine!" "Sounds wonderful. How dressy?" "Hmmm. Good question, because you always look so lovely! This place is trendy, young, hip and a little loud, but with a touch of restraint. Does that help?" "On the button." "Great. Pick you up at 8:00." She laid out her outfit for the evening, starting with white satin bikini panties, while lace bra and white stockings, she chose a cobalt blue cotton taffeta dress with a wrapped front, a cutaway hem a few inches above the knee and radiating tucks on the bodice. Black sandals with a 2" heel finished the outfit off nicely. George was wearing a fine, light gray suit, a crisply starched white shirt and no tie, and Sharon teased him, saying, "There is no way you've worn that shirt all day." "Just as there's no way you've worn that dress all day," he shot right back. "Now shall we have nice evening?" George's friend turned out to be a woman named Carol Anne, a petite woman with jet black hair and heavily made up eyes and dramatically dark lipstick who tottered around all evening on spike heels. She exchanged air kisses with George before he introduced her to Sharon. "Well, Georgie, since you've brought a new face to my struggling little enterprise, I will give you a nice table," Carol Anne said. "It doesn't look like it's struggling to me," Sharon said. "Oh! You are so kind!" "You've won yourself a friend for life," George said with a smirk. "Actually, things are going rather well. Georgie here keeps bringing people in, and for some reason a lot of them come back without him." "The food must be very good," Sharon said. "Well, this lovely lady is an expert cook herself," George said, nodding to Sharon. "So this is a real test." "I'm not an expert," Sharon protested. Carol Anne laid a small hand on her shoulder. "Honey, don't worry about him. You and I understand each other fine." They ordered a wine from Tuscany, and from there on enjoyed a sumptuous meal. Sharon ordered a veal dish with risotto and asparagus that she swore was the finest thing she'd ever tasted. "I would kill for the recipe for this," she said to George. "I would." They had finished the meal and were finishing their wine when Carol Anne stopped by. The dinner rush had abated somewhat but the restaurant was still quite crowded. "I hope you enjoyed everything," she said to Sharon. "Very much so," Sharon replied. "The veal dish was exquisite." "I'm so glad." "I liked it, too," George put in, and Carol Anne laughed. "You're family, Georgie." "Sharon liked it so much, she'd like the recipe." Carol Anne looked stunned. "That's not what I said," Sharon protested. "I just meant that I would have loved to have it, but I know you can't give it to me." "Don't mind Georgie, honey. He's incorrigible. I'm just very flattered, that's all." In the cab on the way back to the apartment, she chided him for asking, but he assured her it was all in fun. "Carol Anne liked you. She's a little flaky, but she knows what she's doing. I think she's going to make it big with that place." He told the driver to wait, and then walked her inside. She thanked him and gave him a hug. "My pleasure," he said. "I'm glad we both had fun tonight. Jocelyn shouldn't leave you alone so much." Sharon explained that it was just temporary, just until she could secure the CFO position. But in her heart, she knew that wasn't true, that a higher position would mean greater demands, not fewer. But Jocelyn had a drive that couldn't be quenched by anything other than success, and so Sharon had her life with her friends as well as her life with Jocelyn. "I'm pretty lucky, if you think about it," she said. "You are, indeed," he replied. He kissed her on the cheek and bade her goodnight. She locked the door and kicked off her sandals. Only then did she see the light blinking on the message machine. "Hi, darling!" called Jocelyn's recorded voice. "I'm really sorry to do this to you, but I got stuck down here for the weekend. They've decided to turn this thing into a teaching moment for the management types down here, and they thought it would carry more heft if I was here. Please call me on my cell when you get in. Bye. Love you." "Just as we expected," she said aloud with a smile. Then she dialed Jocelyn's cell. It went right to voice mail. "Hi, it's me. I guess you couldn't hold out. George took me to a nice place down on Bleecker for dinner; we'll have to go there when you get back, it's great. Call me tomorrow when you get a chance. Love you." They missed each other several times on Saturday, but left detailed messages so that it was as if they were carrying on a conversation. On Sunday, Jocelyn finally reached Sharon directly. "Hey, I'm really sorry, darling," she said. "But I will be home tomorrow night. I should get in to LaGuardia at 7:30, so with luck I'll be home by 8:30. Does that fit your dinner plans?" "Yes, but I'll make sure I make something that can be held over, just in case." "You are a doll. You are the absolute best. Love you." "I love you, too." Sharon tried to reach Jocelyn in the morning, but it went right to voice mail. "I guess they already have you, nose to the grindstone," she said with a laugh. "Just make sure they leave a little of you for me. Love you." Julie came over for tea. Megan was back to normal and had gone back to school, and the second trimester had begun, which meant she was feeling a lot better, too. "At least I have three good months to look forward to," she said. "And Jack's been a saint the whole first trimester. Just jumped in and helped whenever I was feeling rotten, which was most of the time." "You two are lucky," Sharon said. "You have something very, very special." "Like you and Jocelyn. How's the book coming?" Sharon was happy about that, too. All weekend, she had been on a roll, and she felt like nothing would stop her now. "So, it was good that Jocelyn was away?" Julie asked with an impish smile. "Let's just say I was able to turn the lemons into lemonade." The phone rang. Sharon answered it. "Is this Jocelyn Drake's residence?" said a heavily accented voice. "Yes." "Gracias. I wanted to let her know that the bracelet she thought was lost has been found. She had been quite upset about it." "Oh. Well, thank you. I will let her know." "Gracias. We will mail it back to her." "Why mail it? She's still in Charlotte today. If you leave a message on her cell, she should be able to pick it up." There was a long silence. "Hello?" Sharon called. "Are you still there?" "Oh...um...por favor, Senorita, we are..." Sharon felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. "Can you please answer my question?" she asked. "I'm very sorry for the inconvenience. We will try to reach her." "You have not inconvenienced me. Not yet, anyway. Please tell me why you felt you had to mail it." "I think there may have been some misunderstanding, and..." Sharon closed her eyes tightly. "All right," she said. "Just please tell me this. What hotel is this, and where are you located?" "The Sandpiper Inn in San Juan." "Puerto Rico?" she asked, bleakly. "Si." She hung up the phone. She sat down at the dining room table, elbows resting on the table, head resting in her hands. The realization was there, although she was trying desperately to keep it out. It simply couldn't be true, and yet she knew in her heart that it was. Jocelyn had betrayed her. Julie insisted that there must be some other explanation, but Sharon knew there wasn't. It was 600 miles from Charlotte, North Carolina to New York City, and it was 1,400 from Charlotte to San Juan. Jocelyn had traveled the 1,400 with someone else rather than the 600 to be with Sharon. "But, maybe..." Julie said. No. Her mind had finally opened up and let the toxic thought inside, and now nothing could remove it, just as nothing could wash away the devastating sense of betrayal. Her world had just been turned upside down. Where did she live? How could she live? Where could she go? When the phone rang, it was almost a relief. Sharon's languid movements in going to it belied the tension still inside. She answered it on the fourth ring, just before it would have kicked over to the answering machine. "Hi, darling!" came Jocelyn's breezy voice. "Jocelyn. What a pleasant surprise." "Hey, I'm sorry we kept missing each other over the weekend, but..." "Yes, I noticed that, too. I also noticed that you somehow forgot to give me the name of the hotel you were staying at, or the number." "Oh, I'm sorry, Sharon. Really. I do usually do that, but..." "That's okay. You're back in Charlotte, now, right?" "Yes, I..." She stopped short, catching herself too late. Sharon smiled a bitter smile. "Well, I have good news for you," she said. "The Sandpiper Inn called - you know, from San Juan - and they wanted you to know that they found your bracelet and were mailing it back to you. Isn't that great?" There was a momentary silence on the line. "It's not what you think," Jocelyn said at last. "Don't you dare! Don't try to hand me some shit about a sudden decision for a retreat weekend in San Juan instead of Charlotte, and how it was all business and you just forgot to tell me!" The silence was extended this time. "Sharon, please..." "I don't want to hear it. You slept with someone else. You went away for a tryst weekend with someone else. "Well, don't bother yourself, now. By the time you get home, I'll be out of here. Your cook, maid, personal secretary and live-in hooker has had enough." "Sharon, please don't." "Well, I am. And just for the hell of it, tell me...the bracelet you thought you lost, it was the one I gave you for your birthday, wasn't it?" Silence. "Perfect!" Sharon snapped, and hit the "end" button on the phone. To be continued...