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Sharon's Journey - Part 6 - The Sun Will Rise free porn video
Sharon's Journey
Part VI - The Sun Will Rise
"Anita was right," Sharon said after a while. Julie looked at her
quizzically, and Sharon explained about the brief visit from her sister.
"She said that Jocelyn could throw me over at any time, and I'd be
defenseless; and now she has."
She could see the questioning expression on her friend's face, but had no
desire to explain further. Instead, her mind was racing, flitting over
the different possibilities. But every thought, every idea, was cast
aside as useless.
"I only have a few thousand dollars of my own," she said to Julie. "That
won't last long in this city."
"I can help you out," Julie offered, and Sharon smiled for the first
time.
"Thanks, but it would be drops in the ocean. I need to work out a real
solution."
She glanced down and saw the wireless phone on the dining room table, and
that somehow gave her the idea. She picked it up and dialed.
"Hello, George? Hi, it's Sharon...not so good, I'm afraid, I need your
advice...I'm leaving Jocelyn...I can't go into it, now, but I promise I
will tell you everything when I see you. The thing is, I don't have a
whole lot of money, and I need to find a reasonable place to stay for a
while so I can sort things out. There's no such thing as a reasonable
place to stay in Manhattan, and the only places in Queens I know of are
real No-tell Motels."
On the other end, George laughed, in spite of the gravity of the moment.
"Where are you now?" he asked.
"At the house. I still have some packing to do, and Jocelyn isn't due
home from Charlotte until this evening, although I fully expect her to
dash home early to make a dramatic scene."
"Fine. Give me ten or fifteen minutes and I will call you back."
She waited, and when the phone rang, she checked Caller ID to make sure
it was George before she answered.
"I just got off the phone with Rod, and he agrees completely with me: you
will be our guest for as long as you need to stay, and we absolutely will
not take no for an answer."
"That's very sweet of you both, but..."
"I told you, we won't take no for an answer," he said. It took Sharon a
few moments to compose herself.
"This isn't a short term thing," she said at last. "Jocelyn cheated on
me. I found out by accident because the hotel she flew off to for the
weekend happened to call here this morning."
"I know. And now you have to find a place to live and then find a job so
you can support yourself, and none of it will be easy. But you are an
intrepid little sweetie and we will not let you face all that alone, and
so, I repeat, we will not take no for an answer. We will have a car there
to pick you up at 3:00, which will leave you plenty of time to pack in an
organized way, get all your data files off her computer, take some cash
out of the bank, make arrangements for the mail, et cetera, et cetera."
She had to laugh.
"Damn, you're good," she said at last, and he allowed himself a guffaw.
Julie had to leave to be home when Megan got there, but she assured
Sharon that she was at her service for whatever she needed. Sharon
assured her she would call as soon as she got settled in.
"If you can just pick up my mail from time to time, I'd appreciate it,"
Sharon said. Julie assured her she would.
She attended to the computer first, burning a couple of data CDs with
files of her writings, her short stories and all the files connected with
her emerging novel. She also had her file with contacts at magazines and
agents on whom she had received recommendations.
There were a few bills that she would have paid in the next few days, and
these she left prominently displayed on the desk next to the PC. She
checked her wallet: two hundred dollars. That wouldn't be enough, so she
put on her coat and walked to the nearby bank branch and took out seven
hundred more.
"A thousand should hold me for a little while," she said, although her
stomach tightened at the sight of the remaining balance.
Packing came next. There were two medium valises and a hang-up bag. She
put one evening dress and two day dresses in the hang-up bag, and crammed
every inch of space in the other two valises with as much clothing as she
could, including four pairs of shoes.
The sight of all the clothes she was leaving behind caused a momentary
stabbing at her heart, and she actually considered leaving some for David
upstairs, but decided against it.
"You never know," Julie had said.
"Yes, I do," Sharon said aloud. But still, even though she knew things
could never work out with Jocelyn, she still might land on her feet. In
fact, the more she thought about it, the more determined she was that it
would be so.
By twenty minutes to three, she had everything ready, including a canvas
shopping bag with three cookbooks, her dictionary, her thesaurus and "The
Elements of Style" by Strunk and White. Her wallet and the data CDs were
in her shoulder bag.
"I know I've forgotten something," she said with a sigh, "but..."
She left the thought unfinished. The front door opened and she heard
someone coming in. She knew even before the door to the apartment opened
that it was Jocelyn, rushing home for a final bit of drama.
"I told you not to do this," Sharon said before Jocelyn could say a word.
"Nothing good comes from this. You are not going to talk me into staying
because you cannot erase the hurt and humiliation."
"Please," Jocelyn said in a tearful whisper. "Just let me..."
"Let you what? Explain? Rationalize? Justify?"
"I know I've been wrapped up in this job..."
"This isn't about the job, Jocelyn. This is about you jetting off to
Puerto Rico instead of coming home. This is about you spending the
weekend fucking somebody!"
"Please, Sharon. I'm begging you."
"All right. Tell you what. You stand there and look me right in the eye
and try to tell me to my face that you did not spend the weekend sleeping
with someone else. Go ahead!"
Jocelyn stood there staring helplessly.
"Just as I thought," Sharon said, her voice dripping with ice. "Now,
let's see if we can go two for two."
She took a piece of notepaper from the desk and wrote on it, then folded
it in half. Holding it aloft, she walked back to stare down Jocelyn.
"You are going to tell me the name of your weekend lover, and we'll see
if my guess is correct."
Jocelyn stood, frozen. Through the French doors, Sharon could see the cab
had arrived.
"Tell me!" Sharon snarled through clenched teeth.
"It was Kate de Vries," she said in a whisper. Sharon shoved past her,
tossed the paper on the dining room table, and picked up the shopping bag
and shoulder bag and slung them over her right shoulder, doubled the
hang-up bag and held it in the same hand as one valise while picking up
the other valise with the other hand, and painfully made her way to the
front door of the house without another word. There, the driver quickly
took both valises from her and took them to the cab.
As he drove off, she didn't look back, didn't look at the park, didn't
look left or right.
Back in the apartment, Jocelyn picked up the sheet of paper with a
trembling hand. She opened it and gasped.
"Kate de Vries," it said in Sharon's neat printing.
To Sharon's surprise, it was Rod who was at the apartment waiting for
her. He had always been the more reserved of the two, but now he seemed
to radiate genuine concern for her. They had a guest room, and it was
hers for the duration.
"To tell you the truth," he said, "we never have guests. We've always
been rather quiet stay-at-home types when we're not at events or
something. Rather like..."
She smiled.
"I'm so sorry, Sharon," he said with a start. "Really, I am. I'm sorry
for both of you, but of course you more, since you were the one who was
so badly hurt."
George arrived home a few hours later, by which time Sharon had settled
into the guest room and packed everything away. He gave her a big hug
right after depositing several bags of Chinese food on the dining room
table.
"Don't look like that, Ms. Gourmand!" he said in mock defensiveness.
"I'll have you know that Lu Chen's makes the finest dim sum on the
planet."
"I was just thinking about my waistline," she said, grinning. "I adore
good Chinese dishes."
"Good," Rod said. "Because during the week, this is George's idea of fine
dining."
George shot him a short glare.
"Hey," Sharon said, softly. "Both of you work, so no one is going to want
to cook anything elaborate. That being the case, since I really feel
funny crashing here for nothing, why don't you let me cook for you during
the week?"
They both started to protest, but stopped when she started to cry.
"You're both so kind," she said as they both tried to comfort her. "I
really would feel like I was contributing something. Besides, right now I
feel like I've lost everything. I love cooking, and it was something I
really grew into while I was with Jocelyn.
"My sister, Anita, told me a while back that I had painted myself into a
trap by being with Jocelyn, that there would be no protection for me if
the relationship collapsed. I was really offended at the time, but she
turned out to be right."
Rod protested that being in a lesbian relationship wasn't any different
than being in any other relationship, and that she had options just like
anyone else. George agreed.
"Except it wasn't exactly a lesbian relationship," she said, softly. It
took a minute to sink in.
"Really?" George gasped. "I never would have known.
"Never crossed my mind," Rod added.
"The only people outside this room who know are Jocelyn, my sister, and
Lionel. We first met him the first weekend Jocelyn and I were together,
and I had just decided to live full time en femme."
"You must have made quite an impression on him," George said. "He told me
about the night he took you to the opera, how magical it was and how
lovely you looked. I never understood why he was so enthralled with you,
but now it all makes sense."
Rod couldn't understand why any of this would be a problem to her, but
she explained that while her identity had been pretty thoroughly changed
to Sharon, her college diplomas and transcripts would still read Raymond
Boyle, and so she would have to make an issue of her status as soon as
she applied for any job in accounting, which was her major in college.
"You? An accountant?" George said. "I have a much better idea."
Carol Anne's restaurant down on Bleecker was doing a fine business, and
Carol Anne herself was starting to feel a bit run down. George was able
to report back to Sharon two nights later that his instinct had been
right, and that she would be very happy to have someone to work with her
as hostess. They arranged for an interview the following afternoon.
Maybe, Sharon thought as she rode downtown on the subway, things are
going to work out for me after all.
It wasn't much of an interview. Carol Anne told Sharon all about the
restaurant, how this was her third attempt and how, if she didn't get it
right this time, after two failures and a bankruptcy, she was going to
hang it up. She had decided that this time, she would go with Northern
Italian because that was the cooking she'd grown up with and truly loved.
"You'd be surprised what a difference it's made," she said.
Carol Anne loved being the hostess for her own place, but when the dinner
rush was at full force, she could no longer handle it alone. That's why
she needed help. Being conversant with the different dishes on the menu
was not a necessity, but it would help with the regulars.
Sharon was perfect, she said, because she was very sweet and a little
flirty, and that was fine.
"I noticed you like to wear very high heels," she said. "You look
fabulous in them, but your feet and back will be killing you if you try
to work in them. Low heels or flats are fine."
"When do you need me?" Sharon asked.
"Wednesday and Thursday, from 3:00 to 11:00. Friday and Saturday, 3:00 to
1:00am. Sunday from 4:00 to 10:00. I'm thinking of doing Sunday brunch,
and if I do, I'll need you for more hours, but of course that will be
more money for you. Sorry to screw up your weekends, hon, but that's the
restaurant business."
"It's blessing," Sharon said. "My weekends are empty right now, anyway."
Carol Anne reached up and touched her cheek.
"Poor thing. George told me a little about it. Well, I can promise you
this - working here will lift your spirits, 'cause it's lively as hell in
here sometimes. And you'll have no shortage of offers for
companionship...from both sexes."
The first person she met was the chef, a woman named Greta Beck, who
looked as if she has trained for the Ironman Triathlon. She had broad
shoulders, short-cropped blonde hair, blue eyes and a smile that looked
more like a sneer. Sharon could feel her undressing her with her eyes
when they first met.
"Down, Tiger," Carol Anne said to Greta in a stage whisper.
The sou chef was a fiery little Puerto Rican woman name Christina, who
greeted Sharon with a breezy hello and, "Don't take any shit from Greta."
Curtis and Abdullai worked the grill. Nancy, Kimberly, Lola, Henry and
Max were the wait staff. Janelle worked the bar.
"Whaddaya think, People?" Carol Anne asked as they all assembled in the
main dining room. "Thumbs up or down in Sharon?"
"Up!" they all called out, gesturing as they did so.
"See you tomorrow at 3:00," Carol Anne said to Sharon with a smile. "And
don't forget what I said about the heels."
She stopped at Nine West on the way home, and found a black patent
leather pump with a 1" kitten heel that she thought was adorable, an
ivory colored lace men's style oxford, and two pairs of suede pumps with
a 2" wedge heel and a cute buckle across the top, one in grey and one in
burgundy. The total bill was a little over $300, and she tried not to
wince as she handed over her credit card (and hadn't changing her name
for that been an adventure!). Later, she would explain to George that she
didn't want her appearance ruined by cheap shoes.
"No self-respecting woman would," he said with a grin.
She called Julie that night, who was glad to hear she'd already landed a
job.
"Oh, you have some mail," Julie added. "Jocelyn dropped it off a little
while ago. She also gave me your key. She said that you left a lot of
your clothes behind, and would probably want to come get them when she
wasn't here."
"How does Monday sound? I can use some of my dresses and skirt sets for
work."
"Sure. Anytime after Megan goes. We'll have a cup of tea, first, and then
I can drive you back."
"You're a doll!"
The next afternoon, she was a little nervous as she picked out the
burgundy wrap dress that tied around the waist. She decided that it was
cute as well as being the most comfortable dress she owned. Stockings and
the new burgundy suede wedge pumps went perfectly with it. She had left
all her jewelry except her earrings at Jocelyn's, and so she picked out a
pair of large hoops that she hoped would say, "fun".
She arrived a little before three, and Carol Anne told her how great she
looked.
"Love the earrings," she added, and gave her a little pat on the bottom.
"And the shoes."
They all gathered at the large table in the back to discuss the menu and
some of the wines. Greta had prepared one of her dishes as a sample in
advance, and everyone had some. It was actually a French seafood dish,
filet of sole poached in white wine with mussel sauce.
"Incredible," Sharon said.
"Oh, don't tell her that!" Christina said. "We only tell her it's good
when she's in one of her snits. Otherwise, she gets permanently bitchy."
Greta casually gave her the finger.
"Welcome to the Love Boat," Curtis said.
Her first job was to take reservations. Carol Anne explained that she had
to be sure she got everything down correctly. When the phone rang, she
gesture to Sharon to take it, and she did.
"Not so hard, was it?" she said with a smile. From then on, everything
seemed easy.
"Some guys - and some women, too, actually - will get a little touchy
with you. It's up to you whether you want to put up with it or not, but
the friendlier you are, the heavier the tips tend to be. If you don't
want the contact, don't react to it, just slide a little bit away.
"On the other hand, if you want, you may find some guys - or women - who
will like it if you place your and on their shoulder or upper arm when
you explain what the specials are or hand them the wine list. It will
take a little practice before you decide who likes it and who doesn't,
but after a while you'll be able to tell just by looking most of the
time.
"One other thing. You will be propositioned, probably several times in a
given evening. Unless you're interested, you can usually laugh these off
or, if pressed, say that you're seeing someone. If they push beyond that,
just say as firmly as you can without getting emotional that you are not
interested and then walk away. If you don't have anywhere to go, go into
the kitchen."
"You've thought of everything," Sharon said.
"You have to in this business, honey."
She was caught up in things almost immediately. The pace was easy until
about 7:00, when the place started filling up. By 8:00, it was
pandemonium, although the noise level was mostly a quiet buzz.
She learned the numbering system of the tables very quickly, and soon got
comfortable with who was waiting on which tables. Nancy was the most
senior of the waitresses, and she handled her job with style and
efficiency. Kimberly had only been there for a month, a very pretty girl
who was trying to get started as an actress.
"This pays the rent in the meantime," she told Sharon.
"I know just what you mean," Sharon replied.
By the time she took her first break, just after the rush eased off a
little after ten, she had been touched in the butt, been grazed against
her breasts, and one guy already seated had asked her about one of the
wines, and while she answered, started putting his hand up her dress.
She went into the kitchen for something to eat, and saw Greta sitting off
to the side, drinking from a bottle of spring water.
"Gotta stay hydrated," she said with a smile. "How ya holdin' up?"
Sharon walked over and told her about all the touching.
"Yeah, well, you're kinda juicy, ya know? Plus, the regulars see a new
face, and a pretty one, that sometimes happens. Try not to let it bug
you."
"It doesn't bother me at all, except for the hand up my dress," Sharon
said. "But other than that, I have to say, it's kind of an ego boost."
Greta gazed at her with sympathy.
"Rough one, huh?"
"I thought it was the real thing, you know?" Sharon said.
"Cheated on you?" Greta asked, and Sharon nodded. "Sucks," Greta said
with finality.
But as Sharon took a cab back uptown that night, she thought that she had
found a pretty good way to cope. Sunday was easier, and then she had two
days off - two days to write and cook and clean out her wardrobe from
Jocelyn's place.
She saw the park before anything else. It hurt more than she had thought
it would. She looked at the azaleas she had planted and the dogwoods that
were just losing their blossoms, and there was a sharp pang in the pit of
her stomach.
"I hope we don't run into anyone I know," she said to Julie, who patted
her arm to comfort her. They continued walking until they reached the
familiar French doors, and she opened the front door quickly and stepped
inside.
Inside the apartment, she noticed the empty glass by the computer, the
dirty plate on the coffee table; there were dirty dishes in the sink and
the coffee maker hadn't been emptied. The garbage pail was crammed with
boxes from take-out.
Julie came with her into the bedroom. The bed was made, but not neatly. A
few of Jocelyn's outfits had been tossed on the bed and not hung up, and
there was an envelope on the dresser with Sharon's name on it.
"Did you tell her I was coming?"
"No. But I guess she figured you would at some point and so left that for
you."
She went right for her closet. She easily filled the two valises and the
hang-up bag, and also the large suitcase that Julie had lent her. The
rest of her dresses, skirt sets, leggings, capris, tops and lingerie all
just barely fit. She left the sexiest lingerie behind, because it was too
much of her life with Jocelyn for her to want to keep it.
The rest of her shoes were placed in a large shopping bag that Julie had
provided. It took them both two trips to carry everything out to the car,
but they finally got it all loaded, leaving the note unopened on the
dresser. Sharon locked the apartment up carefully and gave the keys back
to Julie.
Julie kept things cheerful as she drove uptown, but Sharon remained very
quiet until Julie turned onto Broadway at 72nd Street.
"I like it up here," Sharon said as they passed the old Ansonia, the
marvelous structure that seemed to gaze down on Broadway with such regal
splendor.
"I don't blame you," Julie replied.
"There!" Sharon said, pointing to a parking spot that had just opened up
on West End Avenue.
"I see you've already learned the key skill of living on the Upper West
Side," Julie said with a smirk.
Sharon invited Julie in after they'd brought up all her things, and made
them both a cup of tea.
"It's really final, isn't it?" Julie said at last. Sharon nodded. Julie
started to say something, but Sharon stopped her.
"Let me ask you something. What would you do if you found out that Jack
was cheating on you?"
Julie looked stunned.
"I...I can't imagine..." she stammered, then stopped herself, afraid of
how it sounded.
"No, that's all right, Jules. You can't possibly imagine such a thing.
And until last week, I couldn't have imagined such a thing with Jocelyn.
But she did the unimaginable.
"And the thing is, she pursued me! She was kind and sweet, and she came
to me when I was as low as I could possibly be and she wooed me. She
brought me into a life I never even dreamed of, gave me a gift I would
never have had the courage to ask for, promised me we would be together
forever. And then she cheated on me."
Silence hung in the air.
"What...gift?" Julie asked. For a moment, Sharon considered not telling
her. But they were best friends, and only by knowing could Julie really
understand the depth of her hurt.
When she'd finished, telling her of the changes that had washed over and
through her body, how she had become softer, fuller, lovelier, she held
her breath, terrified that poor Julie would be chased away. But Julie sat
staring into her teacup. She said nothing.
"I hope you won't feel betrayed because I never told you before now,"
Sharon said at last. "But I wouldn't blame you if you did."
Julie raised her eyes and met her gaze. They were glistening with tears.
Sharon began to curse herself inwardly, until Julie reached across the
table and took her hand.
"You didn't owe me an explanation," she said, "and you don't owe anyone
else one, either. It does explain one thing, though. That first year we
were friends, I thought you seemed to be changing, somehow, but I could
never put my finger on what.
"I also understand why you feel so completely betrayed."
A short while later, Julie got up to go. When they got to the door of the
apartment, they embraced and held each other for quite some time, each
one's breasts pressing up against the other. Sharon could also feel
Julie's stomach against her; she was starting to show.
"I just need to know you're still my best girlfriend," Sharon said.
"As long as you're mine," Julie responded.
Spring was turning into summer, and Sharon settled into her job, her new
routines and her new life more easily than she expected. She joined the
girls for a latte a few times at the old coffee shop, and was surprised
to find Karen much friendlier than she had been. She had stopped talking
about Ryan's affairs or her own, and her drinking seemed to have abated,
but she seemed to be watching Sharon closely.
One Tuesday afternoon, she was walking back to Julie's apartment with her
when she saw a familiar face coming the other way. It was David. She saw
him before he spotted her, and she noted that he had let his hair grow
quite long.
He was walking toward her. Finally, he saw her.
"Hello, David," she said. He mumbled something in return and started to
walk away. She excused herself from Julie and called after him, running
to catch up.
"It's good to see you," she said. He shrugged, and she asked him what was
wrong.
"You just left," he said, pouting. "You never said goodbye or anything."
"I'm sorry. Really, I am. But that was a very, very painful day for me,
and while I can't explain to you just why, I'm asking you as a friend to
just trust that it's true."
"You and Jocelyn broke up?"
"More serious than that, I'm afraid, but that's really between Jocelyn
and me."
He seemed to be thinking that over.
"How's Deanna?" she asked, softly. She had just noticed that his legs
were completely smooth. He smiled a little.
"Mom sometimes lets me have 'Deanna days'. I dress all day and we do
things together. Maybe you could join us sometime."
"Maybe," Sharon said with a smile. "Tell your mom I said hi."
She was walking over to the subway on Seventh Avenue when her cell phone
rang. It was George.
"I'm sorry to ruin your day off," he said, "but I knew you would want to
know. Lionel is very ill. He's in Columbia-Presbyterian."
"What's the matter?" she asked. "What's happened?"
The silence on the other end gave her the answer.
"Rod went to see him this morning, and he's in a very bad way. I have to
work late tonight, so I can't get over there to see him until tomorrow. I
just thought you'd want to know."
"Thanks, George. I'm on my way home now, then I'll go see him."
She flagged down a cab. Once back at the apartment, she changed as if she
were going to work, putting on a pale blue spring dress, stockings and
heels. She redid her makeup, then went out and took another cab to the
hospital.
Visiting hours were ending soon. She would only have twenty minutes to
see him. She steeled herself before she walked in, and when she saw him,
she prayed the shock didn't show on her face.
He was cadaverously thin, IVs were running and he had an oxygen tube in
his nose. There were lesions on both sides of his face, and his hair had
thinned out badly. When she first entered the room, he was staring
blankly into space, but he heard the sound of her heels on the linoleum
floor and he looked up.
"I should have known my angel would come," he rasped.
"What happened to you?" she asked. It was meant lightly, but he chose to
be reflective.
"I have not always been as careful as I should have been. We always pay
for our mistakes, some more fully than others."
She sat down in a chair next to the bed and pulled it close. She took his
hand in hers.
"Tell me about you," he said. "I heard about you and Jocelyn. I am so
very sorry."
"I'm still getting used to being without her. Every day, I wake up and
think the hurt is going to be gone, but it's still there. It's different,
but there."
He nodded. He started to say something in reply, but seemed to have
trouble focusing for a moment. When he did start to speak, it was in a
whisper.
"Sorry," he said. "Running out of gas. Bad timing on my part."
"Why?"
"Could catch you on the rebound."
The shadow of a sly grin spread across his face, and she saw it more in
his eyes than anywhere else. She smiled back, hoping he didn't see the
tears gathering in her eyes. But he did.
"You already gave me a night to remember," he added.
"For me, too."
He gave her hand a squeeze.
A nurse came in, nodded to Sharon, asked Lionel how he was feeling but
didn't listen for an answer. She checked the IV, took his pulse and blood
pressure, made a note on his chart and put it back.
"I'm sorry, miss," she said to Sharon. "Visiting hours are about to end."
She didn't wait for an answer or an acknowledgment but just turned and
left.
"I have to go," Sharon said. "I'll be back tomorrow."
Lionel shook his head slowly.
"Please don't. I'll only look worse, sound worse. Getting harder to talk.
You'll cry, and I don't want you to cry."
She squeezed his hand and held it. He smiled again.
"Tomorrow...sun will rise. You, too."
She awoke early the following morning, and found that Lionel was right.
The sun had risen, and so had she. Lionel had not.
To be continued...
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