My Wonderful Obsession 39 free porn video

My Wonderful Obsession Part 39: The Garden Party Silly me - I always thought vacation time meant lots of rest and relaxation. But my new summer work schedule, all the preparations for the big wedding and Rob's visit that same weekend put the lie to THAT concept. At least after the brunch, Natalie and Phil would be winging their way to their little honeymoon haven in the Caribbean, and after Erica's party later the same day, Rob would be leaving town and summer could finally start in earnest! Not that I minded having that man around ... Mom and I headed for the Wagner residence around eleven, both dressed smartly in casual, feminine summer dresses and strappy sandals. But we didn't get all carried away with our hair and we kept the jewelry and makeup to a minimum - not my idea, but Mom cautioned that we shouldn't overdo it in case the bride didn't have time to get all gussied up. 'No problemo', I thought - 'long as I can make up for it at Erica's party!' Most of the others were already there when we arrived, but as expected, not the bride and groom. The other bridesmaids and I were all of the same opinion - Natalie must have had quite the night at their hotel, and like the girls at the sleepover I attended, they all giggled and joked about her having sex for the first time - like, how many times Phil would have done 'it' with her (like a dozen, at least?), and how many times Natalie herself would have come (like, probably none?). As for me, I thought they gave my brother way too much credit for his sexual staying power - I never managed to come more than twice in one session. Of course, we're talking a macho guy here, not his girly little brother ... As expected, there was an excess of estrogen present at the Wagners' affair, the only testosterone present belonging to Mr. Wagner, his two male relatives, the overdose my brother seemed to have from birth (so maybe he COULD do it that many times?) - and whatever traces years of hormone therapy hadn't yet erased from MY system. But the dozen or so chattering female voices had no trouble drowning those guys completely out. Yay girl power! After the bride and groom made their grand entrance and everyone had something to eat, came the serious business of opening all the wedding gifts. That was such huge fun! They were SO lucky! Christine recorded everything on a notepad to make sure the right people got thanked for the right gifts, which struck me as a super idea, and I added that detail to the hundred or so other things I'd learned about having a successful wedding celebration. At about one-thirty, the newlyweds said their goodbyes and they climbed into a cab for the airport, but not before exchanging hugs and kisses all around and receiving oodles of best wishes. I got a really nice warm hug and even a lip kiss from my new sister. And then she whispered, "Remember, you're next!" My reaction to that was to giggle and say "I can hardly wait!" but a second later my brain kicked into gear and reality hit home. There was no way I'd be getting married any time soon, probably not for years if ever. That bouquet was wasted on Sandra Johnson. But I couldn't wallow in self-pity long, because Mrs. Wagner wanted some nice pictures of her daughter's bridesmaids. So we all filed outside and struck all kinds of playful poses with each other as the cameras clicked. Keri said, "Wonder when we'll see the ones the photographer took yesterday." "Me too," Christine agreed. I added, "Yeah, I think we all looked amazing. I loved your hair, Chris! I wish mine could look like that - SO pretty!" "Just grow it out more," she giggled, you can do so much with it!" "You didn't look so bad," laughed Cindy. "Your do was perfect for you - so romantic, so sexy. No wonder your boyfriend had his hands all over you!" Yeah, I guess she was right - I'd thought my hair looked pretty nice - 'ultra-cute' was MY assessment, but maybe others saw me differently - holistically, as opposed to a collection of bits and pieces, as I tended to do. And to a guy who was after my body, any part of me that looked extra-special might just enhance the whole, adding to my sex appeal. I resolved to remember that for the next function later that very afternoon. ***** Speaking of my 'sexy' up-do, more than anything I wished I could have another just like it for the garden party. I know, it wasn't Karen and the lady did end up trimming some of my hair, but she made me look so damn good that I wanted that gorgeous hairstyle every day for the rest of my life. Mom said she do her best to re-create it, using as much of her extra-hold spray as she dared, she doubted she could capture the magic of the original. Thank goodness there would be lots of pictures, she said! Then maybe I could talk Karen into doing it for me some time ... Mom loved my new dress! I think she felt really pleased that I'd put her gift to such good use, and so soon too! "It's SO different!" she exclaimed in a complimentary way when I emerged from my room, all ready for hair and makeup. "The skirt - it really does flare out from your hips, like you said ..." I did a little half-twirl to demonstrate how responsive it was to movement. "Oh, that's incredible! It makes you look like a ballerina! Especially with the fitted top." "Yeah, that's what I thought too, Mom," I grinned. "The salesgirl said their styles are all for girls - I mean women, who are younger, or younger-at-heart - but you really need kind of a fit body, you know? 'Cause they don't do sleeves, so you show a lot of upper arm, and neck and shoulders?" "And waist, and bust too," she added, using her hands to position my arms above my head so she could see how the snug fabric moved with me. Then she took a couple of steps back and scanned me from head to toe. And I saw tears in her eyes. "Are you okay, Mom?" "Yes, I was just remembering ..." "Remembering what?" But she changed the subject. "Didn't you ask me to help you with your hair? We'd better get started - you told me you have to leave at four- thirty. That only gives us an hour and a half." I nodded reluctantly, and we relocated to the kitchen island where Mom got started, brushing out my now-shoulder-length hair in preparation for putting it up. "I'm glad you like my dress," I said softly, hoping to draw her out. "But you know, it's really me that likes YOUR dresses. I've always loved your style, so the clothes I buy are a lot like what YOU always wear." "Well you and I DO look a lot alike, dear." "Yeah, we do - and isn't that the coolest thing? Like, we have the same coloring, and the same shape - well, except up here, I could be a lot bigger, like you ... and you're a lot prettier ..." "I wouldn't say that," she jumped in. "Sandra, you make a VERY pretty girl ..." "You said I 'make' a pretty girl. Maybe in a dress I do, but ..." "You look beautiful in anything, but okay, especially dresses. Oh honey, you've always looked so nice in dresses, right from when you were a little boy. I never told you this, but all those in-between years, when you were just my son, I secretly wished I could see you in a dress again. You've always been so pretty, with those huge brown eyes and those long eyelashes. I really thought you should have been a girl." "That's what your employees said too." It's working, I thought! This was fascinating stuff. She laughed, "A lot of people did. Sometimes I wonder if people thought you were a girl all along, and you just preferred to dress like a boy." Now it was MY turn to laugh. "Until I started to blossom? That's funny ... but hey, that's not a bad idea! We could tell people - you know, people who know us? - that I was all mixed up as a kid, and I didn't figure my life out till I was in my teens." "Believe or not, Sandra, that's what Philip thought we should say." "You're kidding - he DID? Well, that figures - he just wants to make sure his friends don't think he comes from a weird family. Or that he's got a gay little brother." "No, it's not like that, Sandra. He just wants what's best for you, like I do. He knows you're a girl now, and you will be for the rest of your life. He doesn't want gossip to come back and haunt you in the future. I think he's right." I thought about what Mom said for a minute. Maybe they were both right. "Well it's an interesting idea. It would sure save me a lot of trouble with SOME people. But isn't it, like, lying? Didn't you always tell us to never lie?" "Yes I did - but sometimes the situation calls for a ... a different approach? Not all truth needs to be spoken, or be out in the public, Sandra. I suppose a good test would be, does it hurt anyone, or take anything away from anyone, if your story isn't exactly the complete truth?" "Hmm ... not that I can think of, I guess. But Mom, aren't you worried that people will think you're weird, that you raised a kid who was so mixed up she didn't know which sex she was?" "No, people can think whatever they want to think - it's never bothered me. But don't forget, children who lose a parent at a young age often behave in ... odd ways. Some people might think, she was trying to be like her father. It's possible, isn't it?" Now THAT was a good point. I thought this was a good time to put my arms around my mother and give her a squeeze. "Mom ... you are SO amazing. And you're so wise, too. No wonder I love you so much!" "And I love you too, honey," she responded. "I'm very proud of you for being who you are." "Thanks. But isn't it kind of ironic? I mean, we wanna make people think I was trying to emulate Dad, but what I've really been doing is emulating YOU." ***** By the time Rob pulled into our driveway, I was getting close to looking acceptable enough to be seen with him. Mom had done a super job on my hair, and she'd even helped me with my makeup and loaned me some of her perfume, as we'd decided all of mine were more suited to one-on-one evening dates. And my nails even matched the color of my dress - all twenty of them! While Rob waited inside the door I put some moisturizer on my hands and wrists so I could coax my new bracelets on, and I held my breath so Mom could cinch up the new belt. "This is such a nice accessory - may I borrow it some time?" she asked. "Why not - it's not like I don't borrow your stuff all the time. What do you think I should wear on my neck? A chain, or like, something with more presence?" She took a step back and looked. "Hmm ... I think I like you without a necklace. With your hair up like that, your neck looks really nice, bare - just like your shoulders. The dress has straps, so I think it would look too busy with a necklace." I checked myself in the mirror and swiftly agreed. Last thing - sandals! These were fairly new too, and they had a pretty ambitious heel, but I thought they did an amazing job displaying my gleaming ochre toenails, and the white leather looked great against my olive-toned ankles and feet. I knew we'd hit it out of the park when I saw Rob's face - he looked mesmerized! "Mrs. Johnson, your daughter always looks so well put together," he gushed as soon as he found his voice. "She's beautiful." Mom's face betrayed how pleased she was with the compliment, despite her feelings about my relationship with him. But I was beaming too. "I had help from Mom," was all I could think to say. The look on my face probably mirrored his, though. My 'housebroken' man came through big-time: he wore a classic summer blazer, light gray, a pair of navy trousers, and what looked like a silk short-sleeve shirt with a fine geometric pattern, also navy. On his feet were the brown oxfords I'd seen him in before. A perfect ensemble, semi-conservative, and sure to please that fussy Erica. Mom put aside her apprehensiveness about Rob long enough to snap a few pictures and wish us both a good time. I did the navigating and when we arrived on Erica's hilly, leafy street I directed Rob to park across the road in front of a small wooded area, as I'd been instructed. The street was already looking like a parking lot, but we found a space, then Rob came round to help me from the SUV. It was a bit precarious stepping down in my rickety heels! Then he held my hand tightly as we walked uphill to the large stately house with the target number on a masonry post near the edge of the street. I somehow sensed that to Rob this neighborhood had a familiar feel to it. "I grew up on a street like this," he said, confirming my intuition. "It looks just like parts of Boston." It didn't look at ALL like where I grew up, was the thought going through MY mind. Erica herself answered the door, like the proper hostess, and after hugs with me and introductions with Rob, led us inside through the huge marble-floored atrium. "I absolutely, completely LOVE your dress," she exclaimed. "I've never seen anything like it!" "Good!" I laughed. "That means nobody else here has the same dress. But I love yours too - those colors are amazing on you!" Erica was wearing a classic shift dress, sleeveless of course, and its multi-colored floral print gave it a playful, summery feel and an extra dash of femininity. Her long blonde hair was put up in a carefree yet elegant style. Just like her personality! We both sported a similar color and style of sandal, and her toenails were done in a brilliant red. "Can I weigh in here?" interjected Rob. "You BOTH look gorgeous. And thanks for the invitation, Erica. Sandra thinks the world of you." In response, Erica beamed a red-lipstick-framed dazzling white smile at him. "Oh you are MOST welcome - I'm so glad you could come. And for the record, love, I think the world of this girl too!" Then she said to me as an aside that Rob could hear perfectly well, "Better hang on to this man, honey - he knows a good thing when he sees it." That made me giggle! "Oh, I intend to," I replied, looking straight at Rob. I was totally thrilled that Erica approved of my choice in men. Changing the subject, I remarked, "I love your house - it's exactly what I want to live in when I get married." I felt that Rob would agree about the house, and maybe he'd pick up on the other hint too. "Who did all your decorating?" Erica's face had a pained look. "Well I did most of it myself, of course! Okay, not the heavy lifting? But I did do all the paint - on the walls, that is? Okay, not exactly ALL the walls ..." "But you designed it all, correct?" "That much I did. It's what I love to do." "So you design wardrobes for people and interiors for their homes?" Rob said. "That takes extra talent." "She has tons," I agreed. "And she's smart as a whip - and she makes me so jealous." That last comment had more to do with Erica's 'marital' status than her material possessions or abilities, but only I knew that. Erica led us to a big flagstone patio at the rear of the house. Like Mark's place there was a swimming pool and a change house, but the landscaping was more lush and elaborate. I loved the large pots overflowing with flowers that anchored the corners of the extensive patio, and the many ornamental trees that lined the rear of the property. At least two dozen men and women were milling about in groups of two, three or four, all with champagne glasses in hand, and all in animated conversation. I noted with relief that Rob and I were dressed appropriately. Two servers were making the rounds with trays of champagne glasses, and soon we were sipping our own bubbly. Everything seemed so well laid out and organized, even the weather! The bright sun felt wonderful on my bare skin. Erica interrupted Ted, I mean Edward, and he warmly greeted me. "Sandra! Thanks so much for coming." I introduced Rob, and the two men shook hands, saying "Pleased to meet you" in unison. "It was really HIS idea," Erica said in mock seriousness, jerking a thumb in her husband's direction. "I tried to tell him you'd be bored stiff at a gathering like this." "Oh no I wouldn't!" I protested. "I love this kind of party." Actually it was my first! But what an amazing opportunity to get myself all dressed up and find a nice handsome male to bring along and show off to all the upper crust of Cincinnati? Now Erica was giggling and I realized she was just pulling my leg - she knew me well enough. "Okay, it really WAS my idea? And he agreed on one condition." Now she had me wondering if my leg was being pulled again. "A condition?" Edward looked puzzled too. "You have to sing 'I Hate Men' after dinner." She said that with a straight face, making me believe they were totally serious and almost causing a panic attack! "Buuut ... I couldn't book the orchestra today ... so I suppose it'll have to wait for next time." Now Edward's face had a big smile. "Don't listen to her, Sandra. I'd love to hear you sing again, but maybe at your next show." "Sing? At your next show?" Rob inquired, his face looking more puzzled than Edward's had been. "What? You didn't know your little sweetheart's a famous singer?" Erica giggled, looking at me for a reaction. I was trying to shake my head at her without Rob noticing, but that didn't stop her. "Oh, you should've seen her in 'Kiss Me Kate,' Erica stated. "She was just incredible." "Kiss Me Kate?" Rob repeated, looking at me for an explanation. "I've seen that show - it was great! So who did you play?" "I was mostly understudying," I replied, trying to figure out how to change the subject before any clues to my real age got divulged. "I did get to do one of the main parts ..." "Only the LEAD part!" Erica said excitedly. "She IS an incredible singer," chimed in Edward. "Like I said, you should pursue a career in musical theater, Sandra. You'd do very well." Rob was just shaking his head. "Wow, all these little secrets you find out! I had no idea. So when do I get to hear a song, 'sweetheart'?" Oh my God, I thought - how many of my 'little' secrets would Rob learn before finding out some big ones? (Though I DID like what he called me). "Uh ... tell you what? Next show I'm in, you'll be the first one I invite, okay?" "Not ME?" Erica said, trying to sound hurt. "And here I thought we were best girlfriends? Girls can be SO fickle - happens every time a man gets involved!" What an insane, ironic comment, I thought, seeing as all four of us were really male, a HUGE secret one man wasn't party to, thank God. Now it was my turn to giggle, partly because of the irony and partly out of relief to have dodged yet another bullet. Then I made a big show of nuzzling up to my 'best girlfriend' and reassuring her that our friendship wasn't at stake, just because there was a new man in my life. Shortly afterwards Rob and I were back on our own, our hosts off to socialize with other guests. I was pleased that Rob didn't miss a chance to put his arm around me or hold my hand, and we kept up a spirited conversation. He wanted to know how I got into singing, and shared with me that his mother performed in summer stock theater in New England before getting married. "She has a great singing voice too," he told me. "Of course when I was a kid I hated it whenever she sang, it was so embarrassing. But I got over it!" "And you can appreciate her singing now, I trust?" "Oh sure - not that she sings much anymore. I've taken her on dates, to the theater, to the opera - she loves that stuff. That's where I saw 'Kiss Me Kate.' I want you to meet her - she'd like you a lot. Especially now that I know your big secret!" A twinge of pain shot through my stomach the moment he said that - not just the 'knowing my big secret' bit, but also the awkwardness and pressure of meeting another boyfriend's parents - his mother in particular. Like, this relationship could get really serious, or so I hoped, and mothers can be so perceptive! And I'd be right back in the same impossible situation I got myself into with Mark's folks. One thing that gave me great comfort and assurance, and kept the panic attacks at bay, was how I felt about my appearance that day. I can't tell you how wonderful it was to wear that unique white-and-ochre dress and receive all those compliments from Erica and her female guests, but I don't think I'd ever felt quite as attractive and sexy, even in that cocktail dress I'd worn on my previous date with Rob. It was SO nice to be out in the warm sunshine with bare arms, bare shoulders and bare, freshly waxed legs. But I think it was mostly the bodice, which hugged every curve and muscle and with its nicely scooped neckline revealed just enough of my breasts - although not as full as I'd like, perfectly well suited to a girl my age and build. Or maybe it was catching sight of the white daisy pattern on the ochre background whenever I turned and the skirt swirled like a ballerina's dance costume. And it felt sexy and erotic to go without a bra, even though bras were just about my favorite item of female clothing. Now I should have known better than to drink more than one glass of champagne - but those servers! They kept replacing my empty glass with a full one! By the time the hors d'oeuvres were being served, I was getting fairly sloshed. Good thing with me, that just means I get a lot more giggly and a LOT more friendly - especially to certain men who happen to be along on the date. I couldn't keep my hands off Rob, and more than once he had to use his handkerchief to wipe lipstick from his mouth or cheek before speaking with other guests, and I seemed to always be pulling out my lip color and makeup mirror to do repairs. Many of the other guests were outgoing and wanted to meet the attractive couple they didn't recognize. Others were led over to meet us by Erica, who seemed to enjoy helping her guests get acquainted. Of course, all those people were older than us, and some even had gray hair. I got the distinct impression there was a lot of power and money represented there, which would normally have made me feel uncomfortable, like a fish out of water, had it not been for the effects of the champagne! As it was, my 'beau' and I had a fun time chatting with everyone, and Rob was even presented with some business cards - why, I didn't clue in at the time. But something that took place the following spring could be traced back to a chance meeting at that party. We were seated at a round table of six for dinner, three couples with all the women next to each other, and naturally we 'girls' got totally immersed in our own chit- chat, which was super-fun for me to be part of, even though I felt like an outsider, and the guys went on about typical male stuff like sports - not the usual sports talk involving football or baseball statistics mind you, but instead about stuff like skiing, golfing, boating and scuba- diving. From the bits I heard, it sounded like all three of those guys, Rob included, had been everywhere in the world enjoying their favorite sports. One of the men seemed really interested in Rob's current occupation, especially where he'd be working the upcoming ski season, and they had a big discussion but I didn't catch the gist of it. I was in even worse (translation: happier) condition by the time dessert was served, having sipped my way through a glass-and-a-half of white wine on top of the pre-dinner champagne. I remember giggling uncontrollably at anything that sounded even remotely funny, but luckily my tablemates seemed to take my antics as free entertainment and they just goaded me on with ever-funnier comments and jokes. What a totally FUN time for a party girl like me! I just loved being accepted as a pretty young woman by the wives, and I made sure to say the nicest things about my date and even fib about our marriage plans so they (hopefully) wouldn't view me as competition for their husbands' attention. After dinner when I sobered up a bit I asked Rob what his big discussion was all about, and he replied, "Oh, we were just talking about the ski resort I'll be working at - he owns a condo there, and he offered to let me use it if I ever need it." He fished in his jacket pocket and pulled out a business card. "George P. Atkinson," he read. "Look at that - he's a partner in his law firm. I thought he was just one of the associates." "Figures," I giggled. "They're probably all high-falutin' lawyers here." Then I snuggled my face into his neck and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. "So what do you think, hon? Are YOU gonna be a big fancy lawyer too? Make oodles of money? Go skiing all over the world and have condos everywhere?" "Sure - sounds like a great plan." It sounded that way to me too - especially if I got to be the 'trophy wife' on the receiving end of that incredible lifestyle. With all that alcohol in my system, my imagination was running wild, not to mention my libido. "Well if you're ever looking for someone to spend it on - I mean, share it with ..." Rob looked into my eyes and gave me one of his dazzling smiles. "You offering?" I replied with my arms around his neck, my body pressed against him, and my lips all over his. And wow, could I ever feel how rock-hard he was! OH MY GOD - what a 'huge' compliment for a girl like me! At that moment, if I could have, I'd have dragged Rob straight over to Erica and made her show us to their guest bedroom where I'd have barricaded the door and made wild love to that guy for the entire rest of the evening! But as we all know, that wasn't about to happen. Well, all except Rob Hewitt, of course - I'm sure he figured he'd finally get lucky that night, the way I was behaving towards him. He was probably counting on it! And me? It was just SO incredibly frustrating, not being able to be the 'complete' woman he was expecting me to be. 'Gotta get that fucking operation - like, NOW,' I thought. After goodbye hugs and kisses with Erica and Edward, Rob and I were back in his SUV, heading (I assumed) in the direction of his hotel and holding hands when he didn't need both of his for driving tasks. And I began to feel quite panicky - like, how was I going to keep Rob out of my panties THIS time? Then a thought came to me - stall him. Not the most brilliant tactic, but all I could think of with all that alcohol in my system. "Rob, could we stop at Milestones for a few minutes? One of the girls is leaving - it's her last night? I - I want to tell her ... you know, best wishes and everything?" Pretty lame sounding, and besides I'd already said my goodbyes the last time I was there. He turned to look at me. "Sure," he smiled. It was only ten or so when we entered, and the place was still semi-busy with late diners. Chelsea caught sight of us before the hostess, Angie, did. "Sandra!" she exclaimed as she hurried over to greet us. "Oh, ah just LOVE your dress!" she exclaimed again. "An' look at your hair! Y'all are such a pretty thing. What are y'all up to tonight?" She turned her attention to Rob, and I realized they'd never been introduced. "Oh, we were at this amazing garden party," I squealed. "Uh, Chelsea, I don't think you've ever met Rob. Rob, this is Chelsea? She's the girl who got me the job here, remember? She's the most amazing waitress in the whole entire world." "Taught her everythin' she knows," Chelsea said with a wink at me. "So pleased to meet you, Mr. Rob." Then she turned to me. "What brings you here t'night, honey - can't stay away?" I thought I detected a hint of nervousness in her voice. "Oh - I, uh, just wanted to wish Sheila all the best, you know? Is she here? Oh, never mind - I see her back there in section 3." I began to pull Rob with me into the restaurant. Chelsea quickly took hold of my arm. "Um, why don't ah find you two a nice little table over this way ... ah'll get Sheila to come pay you a visit." I was totally puzzled by that, but went along, thinking 'what a super idea - sitting down will kill more time.' We were shown to a table for two in a secluded corner of section six, about as far as you could get from section three, and Chelsea said, "You two stay put. Ah'll bring a couple of drinks, on the house." "She obviously didn't want you to interrupt Sheila," Rob observed after Chelsea left. "A bit odd, if you ask me." I just nodded in agreement. It WAS odd. Chelsea was back in a flash carrying a pair of Cokes with ice and lemon wedges. "You two sit tight and ah'll find Sheila," she repeated as she hurried off. In short order Sheila appeared and I again went through the introductions and the dress and hair comments, before giving her another huge good-bye hug (as I'd already done a few days earlier). She did seem genuinely touched that I'd make a special visit to wish her well a second time. Before I sat back down, though, I told my date I needed to visit the ladies' room. As I passed the end of the bar and approached the first door, I found myself smirking at the sight of the 'MEN' sign and the amusing memory of the year before, when I'd forgotten how I was dressed and almost walked straight in, inadvertently revealing my true sex to the perceptive Chelsea. At that precise instant the men's room door swung open and I found myself face-to-face with Mark! I froze solid and my face must have had the word 'shock' written all over it. But his would have to be described much the same way. We both stood there dumfounded for a long awkward moment, other patrons pushing their way past us. He spoke first, or maybe stuttered is a better term. "Hi Sandy ... I - I almost didn't recognize you. You're ... y-you look amazing." I think I replied with something lame, like "You know how much I like dresses ..." He just nodded, then found his wits and led me by the arm to the end of the bar, out of traffic. "What are you doing here, Mark?" I was getting over some of my initial shock, and for some reason a feeling of annoyance was replacing it, like he was trespassing on my private turf. "I ... I mean we, came for a bite to eat. I didn't think you'd be here tonight." "So what did you do, like, check in advance?" "Uh, yes actually. It's a long story, Sandy. I'm sorry if I upset you. If you prefer, we'll leave." "No, why should you have to leave?" I snapped, still feeling inexplicably annoyed. Maybe it was because I'd just clued in as to why Rob and I got seated over in section six. Or maybe it was just the after-effects of all that champagne and wine. That might also explain why I began striding towards section three like I owned the place. Rob was hot on my heels. "Where are you sitting?" I demanded. "Oh, there she is." You couldn't mistake that big mop of straw-colored hair - and I'd forgotten what a babe she was. 'Lucky bitch,' I thought - blonde, good-looking AND the real thing. Whatever - I walked right up to the booth where Pam was seated and greeted her professionally, as I would have done if I was serving their table. But she was in the middle of a cell phone call. 'I hate people who do that in a restaurant,' I thought. Then she glanced up at me and raised an index finger, like she expected me to wait for her all-important telephone conference to finish before she'd give me the time of day. I was about to dump on her, but Mark intervened and persuaded her to hang up. "What's the problem, miss?" she demanded in a way that convinced me she thought I really was one of the staff. I was momentarily speechless, but quickly found my voice. "I just wanted to, uh, congratulate you and Mark. I wish you both all the best. Oh, and your baby ..." "Oh, thank you. Uh, who ARE you - do I know you?" I was about to remind her, but Mark answered for me. "Pam, it's Sandra - you know, Sandy?" I thought he looked and sounded a bit nervous. Pam's expression changed instantly. I couldn't tell if it was envy or anger. But I hoped it was the former. "Oh, SANDY," she said, her voice dripping with acrimony - or so I imagined. She slid out of the booth and stood eye-to-eye with me - and I realized with some satisfaction that I was slightly taller than her (though unlike Pam, I WAS wearing heels). I could distinctly make out the 'baby bump' on her belly- or so I imagined. "I recognize you now ... but you DO look a lot older." Of course I took that as a dig. "I can see why Mark was ..." "Attracted to me?" It just came out of my mouth - honest. Pam didn't look at all pleased with how I finished her sentence. "I was going to say 'DIStracted by you. But I'm sure that's all it was, and besides ... it doesn't matter now, does it?" This girl was definitely trying to get under my skin. "No, I suppose it doesn't," I replied, trying to regain my composure. "Anyway, like I said, congratulations." It felt like I was surrendering long after the battle was well and truly over. But Pam had another little skirmish to suck me into. She sat back down and regarded me with contempt - or so I imagined. "Sandra - do you think you could fetch us some more water?" I was about to reply, 'Oh, I'm sorry - do I look like I'm your servant?' but I caught myself and shook my head. "I'm not on duty tonight," I said, gritting my teeth, "but I'll let Sheila know." I was trying my best to sound professional, even though I was inclined to haul her outside for a good old-fashioned cat-fight. I resisted that urge too, thankfully. After all, I reasoned, she WAS a pregnant woman. "Well, I'm sure my boyfriend is wondering where I am. I must be going now. Good- bye, Mark," I said, giving him my best put-on smile. But I pointedly did NOT wish Pam a good-bye. Then I turned abruptly on my heel, making my dress swirl around my legs for maximum effect. As I made my way back to Rob, a million thoughts were racing through my mind. Not enough to keep my bladder from reminding me of what I was originally trying to accomplish, though. But as I perched on the toilet seat, my emotions began to bubble to the surface and for once I needed as much toilet tissue as girls always use, except most of it was for my eyes. "Damn hormones!" I said out loud. Then, "Damn alcohol!" What a terrible combination, I thought. "Are you okay, honey?" a woman asked as I tried in vain to fix my eye makeup at the mirror. I bravely smiled and nodded, which I knew would tell her in no uncertain terms that I wasn't. Then I had to grab more toilet tissue and dab my eyes all over again. Rob rose from his chair as I approached. "Are you okay, sweetheart?" he asked, much like the lady in the restroom. I smiled and nodded, which I knew he'd take as an affirmative, guys being guys and all. But then I blew it and started to cry. "What's wrong, Sandy? Did something happen? What can I do?" That's the trouble with men, I thought - they're always trying to fix things. "Nothing," was my one-word answer to all three questions. "Can we go now?" "Sure, sweetheart" he said. We encountered Sheila on the way out, and I hugged her and wished her all the best, once again. She didn't say anything about my tears, leading me to wonder if she thought they were on her account. "Oh, yes - booth eleven needs some more water." I can't believe I remembered that. We didn't see Chelsea, though, which I figured was just as well under the circumstances. Rob opened the door for me and I climbed in, thanking him for being such a gentleman. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" he asked as he buckled himself in. "It's nothing, really," I replied. It was then I began thinking how much I'd reacted like a typical girl to the evening's events. I was reminded of how Julia often responded to a similar question from me, and how that drove me nuts. So I decided I should be up-front with Rob. "Well, if you must know, it's about my ... my ex-boyfriend." "Your ex? What about him?" "Well, I ran into him at the restaurant. Him and his fianc?e." "So why should that upset you?" "It shouldn't, really, I guess. You see, we were really close ..." "I gathered that." "And he was a great guy - he treated me really well. We had some fun times." "So why did you two break up?" "I don't know ... it just kind of happened. I think we just weren't meant to be together." "So get over it. Everyone has relationships that don't work out." "Rob, you don't understand. Mark meant a lot to me ... and it's - it's hard to let go, I guess." He pulled over into an empty parking space and we sat quietly for a few minutes. Then Rob looked squarely at me. "Sandy, is that all our relationship's about? Are you just on a rebound from - what's his name? Mark?" "Yes, his name's Mark. And no, Rob, I'm NOT on a rebound." Of course, I knew that was a lie. "Well then, what's the problem? If you want to get back with him, go ahead and do it." "I can't. He's getting married. And they're gonna have a baby." He was quiet for a moment. Then he exhaled and said, "Sounds like it's all over, then. And you need to get over it too." "I wish it was that simple." Rob shook his head in disgust. "Why do girls always have to make simple things so complicated? Sandy, I'm going to say this again: it's all over between you and Mark. And I really appreciate that you're being so honest with me about this - believe me, I'm not used to it from girls - but you have to decide what you're going to do and just do it." I could feel tears welling up again, but I felt bold enough to say, "So if I decided I wanted you, I should just go ahead and do it? I mean, have you for myself? Is that what you're saying?" That shut him up for a few seconds. Then he replied, choosing his words carefully, "That's, uh, not exactly what I meant. But I'm not going to, uh, stop you if that's what you want." His answer was as clear as mud, I thought. But he didn't tell me 'No' outright, did he? "Okay, I want YOU, Rob. I don't want to think about Mark, ever again." This time he was even more wishy-washy. "Uh, that's not going to be very easy. You live here, and I'm all over the place. I don't think you'd want to have my lifestyle, and I'm not ready to settle down in one place either." "Now who's making simple things complicated? I'm falling in love with you, Rob, in case you hadn't noticed. That means it doesn't matter to me where you live, or what you're doing. I just want to be with you." I couldn't believe all those words were coming out of my mouth. Talk about laying it all on the line! But Rob wasn't buying it. "Not yet, Sandy," he said in a measured tone. "You're not ready." Tears were beginning to stream freely down my face again, and I dug in vain for a Kleenex in my purse. Rob handed me one. I couldn't believe what was happening - it felt just like another breakup; another rejection. And it hurt, though not anything like the previous one. "Please take me home, Rob." The drive was a silent one, and when we pulled into my driveway we sat quietly for another few minutes. Rob broke the silence. "Will I be able to see you again?" he asked, sincerely I thought. "I don't know," I replied in a low, dejected voice. "I hope so." "Well I hope so too. But you need to take care of some personal business first. Life doesn't always go the way you want it to, Sandy." "I know." Just like a guy, I thought. They think everything's so - so damn simple. Just take care of business - yeah, right. And they're always handing out advice, even when all you want is to feel their arms around you. I did get that wish, at least. Rob came around and opened the door for me, and as I slid out of the seat he gathered me up in his arms and held me. After a minute or so he whispered, "Did I forget to tell you how nice you smell?" "You did. But I forgot to tell you the same thing." "You're a pretty special girl, miss Alexandra Johnson." "And you're a very special guy, mister Robert Hewitt." "And you're so beautiful - you take my breath away." "And you're so handsome. You take my breath away too." "So we're both on the same page. Let's promise to see each other again soon. Deal?" "I promise." "Me too. I don't want this to be over." "Me either." Rob put his hand on my head and gently tilted it back, then he kissed me long and passionately, and his tongue explored the reaches of my mouth. By then I was emotionally exhausted, so I just let him go for it, but I slid my bare arms under his jacket and around his back, to let him know I appreciated his loving gesture - and to feel his warmth. Eventually he pulled away and said in a soft voice, "Till next time?" I just looked into those amazing blue eyes and nodded. No, I thought, I wasn't falling in love with him - it felt like I was way past that stage. After I quietly closed the front door I leaned back against it and slowly exhaled, feeling the sexual tension begin to drain from my body. Then it struck me - I'd managed to wriggle out of having sex with Rob, all right - but in the most unexpected way I could have imagined. Still, I hated putting him off, no matter how; I knew from personal experience that a guy needs to have sex - and often. I wanted so badly to give it to him - those feelings were the easy part. But next time there'd be no putting him off; I'd have to physically deliver - and that would be the hard part. I smiled as I realized how totally on the mark his advice was - "You're not ready," and "You need to take care of some personal business first," he'd said. Yes, I decided, I would be doing just that, and the next time we saw each other I WOULD be ready to take our relationship to the next level. And only then, I figured, would I have the chance to live the kind of life I wanted so badly to have. ***** Mom was sitting on the sofa in her housecoat. Now I figured she'd be waiting up, ready to wag her finger at me for my reckless behavior. And I'm sure she saw me and Rob saying our long good-byes too. But in contrast to the previous times he was the topic of conversation between us, Mom didn't seem overly preachy or concerned - just supportive and sympathetic, like she instinctively knew what was going on in my mind. That was good, because I really couldn't have handled it that night. Like I said, I was an emotionally drained - the day had been amazing, but very stressful in so many ways. Of course, I never shared all of the day's events with her - like, she was my parent, after all. When I finished talking she gave me a kiss goodnight and went upstairs to bed. Sure, I knew it was well past midnight but I needed a best friend to share the stuff I couldn't discuss with Mom, and the best and closest one was Kathleen Thomas. Actually at that moment I'd have preferred Erica, but if I called her at that hour, who knows what kind of activities I might be interrupting between her and Edward. Luckily, Kath now had her own cellphone and I wouldn't be waking the whole house when I called. As it turned out, she wasn't asleep yet and in no time she was at my door, dressed in her PJ's as though she was arriving for a sleepover. "Wow, if it isn't Miss Teen Cincinnati herself," she quipped when she saw me, still in my party dress. "Don't tell me - you got a dozen marriage proposals today and you need my help choosing." I had to laugh. "Oh, I wish. I think I was the only one doing the proposing. C'mon in - Mom's in bed, so we need to keep it down. Uh, why don't I go and get my jammies on, too." "I'll come with you," she stated. Kath and I chatted in low voices as she helped me take off the dress and slip on a fresh nightie, and I removed my makeup and did my teeth. Then we gathered up some of my bedding and pillows and tiptoed back downstairs where we camped out on the living room carpet. For the next hour or so we talked mostly about her relationship with Ben, which was still going well in spite of what Kath had just been through, how she was finally on proper birth control, and about starting college in the fall. Eventually the conversation circled back to me. "So you had quite the day, did you?" Kath commented. "Only the most eventful day of my life." I gave her the rundown of my day, from the bridesmaids' brunch to the garden party to the chance encounter with Mark and Pam. "Wow, that WAS some day. What did Mark say? What did you say to him? And to Pam?" I described the exchange between me and Pam, not leaving anything out, including my feelings about her, and how annoyed I was that she was so blonde and beautiful. Kath shook her head. "I've seen her - she's got nothing on you. Except maybe the big hair." "She's got Mark too." Then I got emotional all over again, and had to grab a box of Kleenex from the kitchen. "So you're still pretty hung up about Mark, huh?" "Why do you say that?" "Oh, come on. Like I can't tell you're still carrying a big torch for him. And like, you're totally competing with Pam for him, too." "That's silly - like, she's carrying his baby, for God's sake." The moment I said that I began sobbing. "That stupid bitch - why did she have to go and get knocked up? She ruined everything." Kath put her hand lightly on my shoulder. "Well, I think you did pretty good - you were both totally catty but I like how you told her off when she told you to go fetch water. I wish I'd been there to see THAT. And it's good you were dressed to kill - you must have made quite the impression." "I hope so. But it was all for nothing anyway - like, he has to marry her, right? So I don't know why I just can't let go." "'Cause you loved him so much? I don't blame you - you two were really good together. 'Specially 'cause he knew about you, and he still loved you." Kath paused a moment. "Sandy? Don't take this wrong, but ... d'you think it's possible he just wanted to be with a ... like, a real girl?" I didn't feel right bringing up Mark's sexuality, so I just nodded and said, "Yeah, it's possible. Doesn't make me feel any better though. Maybe a lot worse. Like, what's the point pretending to be a real girl if you can't have real love?" "Real girls have huge trouble finding real love, too. Only the lucky ones ever win." "That's SO depressing." "It IS. But wasn't it you who said, 'Oh, I want to experience everything about being a girl.' Well, kiddo, I hate to say it, but welcome to the club." "You don't have to be so mean. I was hoping for some sympathy. I'm really hurting, you know." "I'm sorry - I just couldn't resist. I guess right now I'm one of the lucky ones - but like, you never know how long it will last." "I know. Like, right now there's Rob, and when I'm with him I get so hopeful that he'll fall in love with me and make all my dreams come true? But I probably won't see him again for like, months - and who knows how many other REAL girls he'll run into. Especially where he'll be working? I don't stand much of a chance." "Oh, I dunno. They'd have to be pretty damn gorgeous to compete with you." "You're kidding me, Kath. You really think so?" "Uh-huh. You're stunning, girlfriend. And I can tell he's nuts about you. Like, who wouldn't be?" "Hmm. Now you're being too kind. But I guess he DOES think I'm beautiful. He said so tonight." "Do you think he's falling in love with you?" "I dunno. He never really told me he was falling in love with me. I just kind of assumed he was, the way he treats me. But I DID tell him." "Guys are so reluctant to commit." "So I've heard." I paused for a moment of thought, and then said, "Well, I think I finally reached a turning point." "What do you mean, a 'turning point'?" "I mean, I think I can finally let go of Mark. And move on with the next stage of my life." "Does this next stage involve Rob?" "I hope so. I really want it to. The thing is, he doesn't seem like the kind of guy who'd want kids in his life. He's so into traveling and sports, and doing different things, and not being tied down. I think he's scared of getting too involved with a girl who only wants marriage and a family." "As opposed to a girl who only wants marriage?" "Exactly." "So I wonder who that girl would be?" "Me, of course, I giggled. "Except I'd be really supportive of everything he does, and be there for him, and even participate? Not like a lot of women who just do their own thing and let him do his." "And what's in it for you?" "That's easy. Real love." ***** You know me, I always loved summer - there were always so many fun things to do, it was never cold outside (so I could show more skin!), I could take life easier ... and best of all, for the past couple of years I got to be myself and even dress the part. But that summer of 1999 was destined to be very different and challenging for me. Work was one difference. Some of the girls at Milestones took real vacations, meaning they were gone for weeks at a time. So guess who had to step up to the plate and fill in? Right, and some days I worked lunch, dinner and clean-up, not getting home till one or two in the morning. But my energy level was high, and being able to dress up for work and get that extra-special attention from many of the regulars was a huge plus. Another was the money - with all the overtime and tips my bank account was finally making serious progress, although I figured I'd need at least another year of the same to be able to pay for the basic operation, and another year beyond that to cover the cost of all the follow-up visits. Provided I could keep my spending in check! One consequence of working so much and so late, always on my feet, was not feeling up to going jogging or even walking as much as I did in my mid-teens. And I'd sleep in if I got home in the wee hours, so no time in the morning before heading straight back to work. But I didn't want to get out of the habit again, as I did during my last school year - my figure depended on it! So I resolved to run for an hour any evening I wasn't working, which ended up being only once or twice a week, but a lot better than nothing. Most times Kath was available to go with me, but when she wasn't I went by myself - which always elicited warnings from Mom that young girls shouldn't be out after dark alone, no matter what the reason. I didn't quite get her concern - I mean sure, the streets were almost deserted by then and anyone I did meet looked totally non-threatening, like people out walking their dogs. "Mom, it's not like we live down in Riverside," I argued one evening as I was lacing up my Nikes. "Stop worrying - nothing ever happens around here." I'm sure Mom was more on edge than normal - which I thought might've explained why she was being so over-protective - because the legal issues surrounding her inheritance were getting pretty onerous. She seemed to be visiting or speaking with the lawyer every other day, and when I'd ask how it was going, she'd say something like "It's all under control, honey," or "I just want it all to be over and done with," which sounded to me like two completely different takes on the same situation. When it came to Mom's inheritance I tried to choose my words wisely, not wanting her to get the idea I was after any of it (although I'd never turn down a gift!). So I usually replied with something like, "Just remember, Mom - your Dad wanted you to have a share of his money. They don't have any right to go against his wishes." And that usually elicited a quiet nod of agreement. ***** You really have to use your nail polish every so often, otherwise the caps get totally stuck - an unexpected side effect of going polish-free the whole time I was in school. That's what led to a chance encounter with Mrs. McCowan and Megan while I was shopping for new colors at Dillard's. They greeted me warmly and we all hugged. "You're growing your hair out again!" Megan exclaimed. "I always liked you better with long hair." "Me too," I laughed, a bit nervously. Her mom didn't comment, leading me to wonder if she knew I was wearing extensions the year before, when I was dating her son. 'Whatever,' I thought. 'Doesn't matter much now.' I briefly considered inquiring after the expectant father Mark, but decided against it. They went ahead and filled in the blanks anyway. "I'm sure you know all about Mark and Pamela," Mrs. McCowan said, rather apologetically I thought. "Uh-huh. I heard they're getting married." "Yes, in September." "Congratulations," I said without thinking. "Uh, I mean, you're going to have a grandchild. That's so amazing ..." She smiled thinly and nodded. "Thank you, Sandra. Yes, we're all very excited." She looked at Megan, who just shrugged and said nothing. How very awkward - for all three of us, I thought. In my mind I felt that Megan preferred ME as her big brother's wife, not Pam, and I'd convinced myself that her mom felt the same way. "It's not going to be a very big wedding," she continued, "under the circumstances ..." Now it was MY turn to nod - like, what else was there to be said? Mark had gotten his girlfriend pregnant, or his girlfriend got herself knocked up, whatever - what was done was done, and there's nothing I could have added that would sound appropriate. But it was interesting to realize that all three of us were less than happy with the situation - and I figured Pam's family wasn't too thrilled either. Not the best way for a young couple to start their married life! Maybe, I mused, they'd re-think the whole concept and just put the baby up for adoption ... then I might get another chance. But no, after my encounter with them at Milestones I knew that'd never happen and even if it did, I'd still be in the same impossible situation with Mark's family. Then an unexpected thing happened - Mrs. M invited me to join her and her daughter for a bite of lunch. Megan nodded excitedly and before I could answer she said, "Hooray! At last! I'm so starved. Can we go to that Chinese place?" Mrs. M smiled at her, then me. "Is that okay with you, dear?" "Uh, I guess so. Like, are you sure you want me to join you? I don't want to ..." "Of course we want you to," she cut me off. "We'd love to hear how you're doing." Megan nodded, "C'mon Sandy - it'll be fun!" There wasn't much point arguing, even if I DID feel uneasy about visiting with them. I'll just have to mind what I say, I thought. It was actually a really enjoyable visit ... well, at least the first half-hour or so, when it was like 'old times' and I felt almost like one of the family. We didn't get into Mark or Pam at all, just easy stuff like Megan's dance recitals, school, and my singing and on-stage appearances. Then all at once Megan realized she'd been putting off a restroom visit too long and she was gone in a flash. Mrs. McCowan, seizing the opportunity, put her hand on my wrist and make eye contact. "Sandra, can I speak candidly with you?" I was taken aback. "Uh, sure." "Mark told me about you," she confided in a low voice. "He explained everything." It was a good thing I was seated, otherwise I'd have fainted on the spot and whacked my head on the tile floor and died right then and there. Well, at that precise moment there's nothing more I could have wished for. But since I was still living and breathing (I think) I just turned beet-red and felt the mother of all panic attacks coming on. The only coherent thought going through my head was, 'How could Mark do this to me? That rotten bastard!' Then Mrs. M continued, "You see, Sandra, I couldn't for the life of me fathom why you and Mark would ever want to break up ... but now I think I understand. You wouldn't be able to have children, and you knew Mark wanted to be a father. And you probably thought his father and I wanted grandchildren." I realized I was nodding slowly, even though I was in a zombie state. I sure couldn't form any words! After a short pause she continued, "It's such a shame that you broke up over this. You two were so young. Many women can't get pregnant or give birth, Sandra. It's part of life ... oh, I wish I could have spoken to you about this before ... well, things might have turned so much differently." She had a genuinely regretful tone in her voice, and I began to realize that Mark hadn't really explained 'everything.' At that moment Megan returned to the table. She took one look at my face and asked, "Sandy, are you okay? You look kind of sick." She glanced over at her mother and back to me. I found my voice at last. "Oh, uh ... I'm alright, Megan. Must've been something I ate ..." "Bet it was that salt-and-pepper squid. I'd get sick if I ate that, too." I managed a little laugh. "It's not that bad - takes a bit of getting used to, that's all." I looked back at Mrs. M and she returned my glance with that 'it'll be our little secret' smile on her face. When my brain started functioning properly again, it occurred to me that Mark must not have shared anything about himself - only about me. Interesting. But thank God he kept the worst stuff to himself! And thank God THIS mother wasn't overly perceptive. I know, it wouldn't have mattered much by then, but I still wanted badly for the McCowans to remember their son's ex-girlfriend Sandra in the best possible light - and NOT as some devious teenage transvestite impostor. Still, the experience shook me to the core and from that moment on, I began to realize that my true sex couldn't possibly stay a secret from some people forever. ***** Then one late July day, Julia called. I was totally thrilled to hear from her, although my first reaction was 'She must need me to fill in for one of the other girls.' No so! "I got tickets for Lilith Fair," she explained, "and I was just wondering if you were free ... if you wanted to go? It's next month, on the eleventh." "Oh, that's so cool," I replied. "I'd really love to ... but like, aren't you going with Alex?" "Uh, well if you must know, he isn't too interested. He was like, 'Why would I wanna go to that - it's all chicks'." Julia giggled, and I followed suit. "Should've expected that from HIM. So apology time: you're my second choice. I thought like, maybe you wouldn't mind, seeing as you're ..." "A chick myself? Oh, so you're finally admitting it!" I was actually enjoying putting her on the spot, even though me wanting to be a 'chick' was the cause of our breakup. "I wasn't going to put it like that, exactly. So anyway what do you think? Can you come?" "I'd love to. I think I'm supposed to work that day - it's a Wednesday, right? So I need to get another girl to sub for me ... but I wouldn't miss it for anything. I love Sarah McLachlan's music." "Oh, I do too! And Sheryl Crow - and right now I'm really into the Indigo Girls, and they'll be there too. Sandy, it's gonna be SO amazing." I felt the same way, though for me the most amazing thing was, I'd get to spend a whole day with Julia again ... and this time as her girlfriend! "I'm really glad I was your second choice, Julia. And I'm glad Alex is totally a guy, so I get to go with you instead." "Me too," she agreed again. "We're gonna have such a blast!" ***** But before that 'blast' could happen, it was time for another chat session with Dr. Westerman. He had a lot of questions for me, and I had a lot of things to talk about too - mostly surrounding how desperate I was to get on with my operation. "Has Dr. Cooper mentioned anything about who, where or when?" he inquired. "Not really," I answered. "I think she wants to take things slow, not rush me? She did say there's a doctor she refers people like me to ... I think he's in Canada or something." "Yes, I believe that's true. There are other options, but that's the one she's most comfortable with." "Well, that's something I want to talk to her about, 'cause I heard of this doctor in Portland who, uh ... well, he has a special kind of technique? It's, like, supposed to help you to, uh ... enjoy sex more?" Dr. W smiled and nodded, "I think I know who you're talking about, Sandra. I read about him in one of the psychology journals I subscribe to." "A psychology journal?" "Yes - you see, one of the biggest psychological challenges transsexuals face following surgery is their inability to fully inhabit their new physical reality. Sex is often a significant challenge. Many transsexuals learn to fake orgasm in order to please their partner - and to avoid suspicion. But both partners have an innate need to be full participants in the sex act, and if one is left out, resentment grows and the relationship suffers and often dies." As much as Dr. W's spiel might have sounded like professional jargon, I understood every word and nodded as he spoke. It was just another way of saying what Karen had told me in plainer English: I needed to be able to enjoy having sex with a man, not just for my sake but his as well. And I knew it would totally be in my nature to "fake it" because to me, the most important thing would be pleasing my man. He continued, "Well, I'll be seeing Dr. Cooper next week about another patient. I'll let her know about our chat and pass along the name of the Portland doctor, if that would help." "Oh, thank you. That would be awesome. I didn't think it was my place to, you know ..." "Sandra, you're too polite sometimes," he smiled. "It's entirely appropriate for you to advocate for yourself. But I understand, and I think in this instance it might be a good idea for me to share this information with her on a professional level. Now she may already know all about it, and she may still feel most comfortable with the doctor in Montreal. Dr. Cooper isn't one to take risks with her patients' well- being." "I understand. Thank you for talking to her, anyway." When our session was over I thanked him profusely, again, and as I left the building, I felt more excited than ever about completing my change of sex. And I found myself wondering if the "other patient" was none other than my friend Erica. How special it would be if both of us could go to the same doctor, I mused. ***** The day of the concert promised to be pleasant and warm, so I chose a white jean skirt with a snug pink tank-top and flip-flops. For a moment I considered going bra-less, but chickened out and instead put on one with ultra-thin material and no underwire, for as natural a look as possible. I left my hair untied and made sure my makeup was minimal and tasteful - except for my toenails, which I painted bright pink for just the right touch of femininity. Then I packed a sweater, blanket and extra panties and top into a large shoulder bag, just to be on the safe side, and borrowed a wide-brimmed sun hat from Mom's closet. Julia managed to talk her mother into giving us a ride to the Riverbend Amphitheater so we wouldn't have to deal with parking. When they arrived to pick me up, Mrs. Taylor greeted me with a hug, like I was a long-lost daughter. "Sandy - you look amazing. So pretty! I love what you're doing with your hair." "Thanks - I wanna grow it out real long," I smiled. Then she asked how my summer was going, and how Mom was, how her business was doing, how my brother was, and so on - like I'd come to expect from other women. I made a mental note to always do the same. Once inside the grounds I was taken aback by how many young people were there, and how few of them were male. I already knew the musical lineup was all-female, but I never expected guys to avoid the event like the plague! I mean, all those girls - it'd be like a royal buffet for your average red-blooded young man, wouldn't it? Julia, who had one of those as a boyfriend, said he'd have been there like a dirty shirt if there was at least one head-banger metal band - male, of course, which would go against the tour's philosophy of giving female acts a fighting chance for recognition. There were tents and awnings set up here and there around the grassy areas, most of which seemed to be for various women's charities and support groups. Julia paused at a busy one with a banner reading 'N.O.W.' - the National Organization for Women. I'd heard of them before, and knew they were committed feminists, advocating for women's equality with men. Julia struck up an animated conversation with an earthy-looking twenty-something girl 'manning' their table, while I browsed some of the literature on display, hoping I didn't appear too 'femmy' for their tastes. There was a lot of stuff on sexual assault and harassment, and a number of books by prominent feminists. One pamphlet that caught my eye was titled 'Love Your Body Day.' I smiled,