My Wonderful Obsession - Part 49 free porn video

My Wonderful Obsession Part 49: Haunted by a Ghost As tumultuous as 2001 had been, the following year certainly got off to an eventful start, at least for me, if not for the rest of the world. Soon our nation would be embroiled in a new war in the Middle East, and everyone I knew was eager for a fight that would not only even the score with America's enemies but also prevent them from using 'weapons of mass destruction' against us in the future. As for Sandra Johnson, her own little battle between her conscience and her yearning to be a part of Mark McCowan's life, had already been lost - at the first skirmish! The white flag went up when she perceived that it was up to her to fill a vacuum that his wife wouldn't. Looking back on that time with the benefit of a bit more wisdom and experience, I find it remarkable how much like my own mother I am. Not that Mom would ever have gotten involved with a man who was married with kids; no, what I mean is how she would often go against her own better judgment if that's what it took to make the people she loved happy. The best example is how she provided me with birth control pills after I pleaded with her to save me from my acne. We all know how THAT worked out! In my case, it was obvious that Mark was needy and feeling unloved, and I felt I was the only one who could come to his aid. Not that I minded being that one - I'd never fallen out of love with him, and having recently discovered it was the same for him, I was probably overly eager to do whatever it took to make him happy ... consequences be damned! So that's how our little weekend rendezvouses became more serious. We progressed from meeting for coffee and a bite of breakfast or lunch to finding places where we could be alone, and we'd spend hours not just talking and laughing but kissing and caressing and doing just about everything except real honest-to-goodness sexual contact. I guess that was a line neither of us was willing to cross ... at least not yet. But I felt that if either one of us took the initiative, the other would go along and the line would be crossed, just like that. ***** So I had this big huge dilemma. I already felt that I'd become Mark's soulmate and confidante, not to mention being the one girl he could romance and fuss over and shower with kisses and caresses. And that's way more than I could ever have hoped for only a couple of months before. But part of me wanted badly to become even more intimate with Mark, to be there for him and make him feel special and wanted and to satisfy his sexual needs as only I knew how. And the other part, basically that damn conscience of mine, was raising alarm bells and telling me I'd already gone way too far with him. Worse, Pam herself sometimes appeared in my mind, with a worried look on her face just to make me feel extra-guilty. Luckily for me, Annalise wasn't the only friend I could confide in - I mean, I couldn't share everything with her, could I? But Erica, who I was still seeing every month or so for mentoring, could understand the dynamics of my affair with Mark. So naturally I was able to share more of my hopes, fears, needs and feelings with her, and she was able to give me a really valuable perspective on love and sex as a transgender woman. I knew from our past discussions that Erica felt the same as I did: it was your job as a woman to make sure your man was happy at home and in bed. And if that meant sex every day (if not more often!) then so be it. Of course, we both agreed that we were talking about 'normal' men, not abusers or addicts or perverts. But we also agreed that by playing our cards right we'd get as much enjoyment out of it (or more!) than he would. While I explained how and why I felt compelled to do whatever I could to meet Mark's needs, she listened intently, smiling and nodding as though to reassure me that she found what I was sharing to be not only important but also something she had personal experience of. Now, I'd noticed for years how women always nod their heads when in conversation with another woman, as though they totally get where the other woman is coming from. I always thought that was just being polite, and I made sure I did it too. But in Erica's case I sensed that she really HAD been there, and had dealt with the same feelings and impulses I was now dealing with. "Women are complex creatures, aren't they?" she commented. "We lead complicated lives - so many expectations put on us, mostly by other women I have to say. But our relationships with men can be so thorny and confusing." It was always cool to talk with Erica, I thought as she spoke. She had a way of affirming that she and I were unique: both separate and part of the world of women, all at the same time. I loved her way with words, and cherished her wisdom. And I loved that she and I were so alike! "And being someone's mistress can be even more difficult," she continued. "Society still has this hate on for home-wreckers, women who steal men from their wives? But men have always gone outside marriage for the things they don't get at home, so I don't think it's fair to always blame the other woman." "Don't some get all they need at home and still go outside? I mean, you should've seen some of the guys I served at the restaurant, like how they ogled me? And made passes at me? With wedding rings on their fingers? I don't think they ALL had shitty marriages." Erica laughed and nodded again. "No, not likely. But that's what I mean, isn't it? It's so hard for us to know what's really going on. It's pretty easy for a guy to say, you know, poor me, my wife doesn't understand me and our sex life totally sucks, and as women we feel like we have some kind of duty to be their comforter, and provider ..." "Which leads to providing you-know-what," I said, finishing her thought. "But I don't think Mark's like that. He wouldn't lie to me about them not having sex." "I don't think so either ... but did he ever tell you WHY she's not giving him sex?" "No, not really ... maybe she found out he's a bit gay and got turned off? Maybe she's got some other dude on the side. Maybe she just got what she wanted - the marriage and the house and the car and a guy to support her while she does whatever she pleases - and she doesn't need to hold up her end of the bargain. I dunno ..." "Yes, it could be any of those things. But why don't you just ask him? You might find out something interesting, and it might help you decide if you want this relationship to go any farther." "Hmm. If it goes any farther we'll be naked in bed together." She laughed and nodded again. "If it were me, that's what I'D be expecting as the next phase." "So like, you don't think I'm wrong? Like, I'm not a bad person for wanting to make love with Mark? For stealing him away from Pam?" She laughed and shook her head, and her long blonde waves bounced on her shoulders. "Honey, I'm not going to judge you." "You did when I didn't want to tell Rob I was really a guy ..." She shook her head again. "Uh-uh. I said you needed to be fair to him." "So shouldn't I have to be fair to Pam? And to their kids?" Erica, who normally had an answer for everything, thought for a moment. "Well, honey, it's like this: if she's really withholding sex for no good reason, and he's done everything in his power to get her to play along, then she shouldn't be surprised if he gets it from somewhere else? And if he gets it discreetly, it doesn't need to hurt the kids, does it? I won't go so far as to say she deserves it, but you and I both know something about men: they need sex and they need it often." "You're so right," I giggled. "Funny how most women don't seem to get that." "I don't really blame them. How could they? It's not the same for them. They only get aroused when they're being romanced by a caring partner. It can take hours! Guys get horny at the sight of a girl's body - with or without clothes." I giggled again. "Sometimes they don't even need that. Like, Rob said he'd get hard whenever he was thinking about me." Erica fixed me with a wry stare. "Well that's you, honey. The rest of us have to work a bit harder at it." ***** I suppose the right thing to do would be to get a second and third and fourth opinion, like when I was told I needed to come clean with Rob. But that would've been too complicated, and not at all discreet, and besides Erica's counsel was along the lines of what I hoped to hear. So it looked as though my affair with Mark was heading for the next level, and I felt all giddy and excited at the prospect. I began to envision how it would take place, and where (oh yeah, like where?!?) and I even fantasized about what it would be like to feel him deep inside me, making love at long last like a real man and woman. I'll admit the whole forbidden aspect of being the mistress of a married man only added to the excitement! But the following weekend, I didn't get the chance to be THAT close to him. He emailed me from work on the Friday and said his folks couldn't take the twins the next day, as they usually did, so we wouldn't be able to meet up. I replied saying I really wanted to see him, and maybe he and I could both look after them, and maybe take them somewhere, just so we could still be together. He said are you sure you want to do that, and I answered of course I would, I love those kids, and then he said maybe we could go to the zoo, just the four of us; the weather was supposed to be great. What a fabulous idea, I thought - we'd be just like a family! So at ten the next morning I met Mark and Ethan and Emma at the zoo entrance. He had the twins strapped into their double-wide stroller, and after we embraced and kissed (out of their sight!), off we went. It had been years since I'd last set foot in that place, and I was amazed at all the changes and improvements. What an interesting day THAT was! The twins were totally fascinated by all the animals and so was I! Mark said they were just beginning to use words, so I tried getting them to say words like 'bear' and 'hippo' and 'tiger.' It was so cute when they tried repeating them! But if I thought Mark and I would get some quality alone-time, I was totally mistaken - the kids kept us completely focused on their needs. They were both able to walk and run by then, which they demanded to do rather than stay confined to their stroller, and Mark said there's no way he could have brought them on his own - they each needed an adult to keep track of them in the crowds. And then there were the diaper changes: Mark was constantly checking them to see if they were wet, or worse. Soon we paused at a restroom building so he could take Ethan in to change him, and a while later when he announced that Emma needed a change I bravely (or stupidly?) volunteered to take her with me into the ladies' room and do the honors. "Are you sure?" he asked, and I said of course, I can handle it. Even though I'd never changed a diaper in my life! So there I was with Emma on the change table and the diaper bag next to her, pulling off her boots and peeling off her fuzzy fleece pants. Then I was confronted with the soggy diaper itself (thank God it wasn't poopy, I thought). It didn't take me long to figure out how to get it off (I just ripped it apart on one side and slid the rest off her other leg). Then I noticed a young mom waiting to use the table, watching what I was doing, and I immediately felt like the pretender I really was! I found another diaper in the bag and fumbled with it, trying to figure out which way it went. The other girl had obviously seen enough - she asked me if I needed help, and I said yes, thank you so much, I'm just the auntie, and she stepped right in and found baby wipes to clean Emma with, then showed me how to unfold the new diaper and place it under Emma's little bum. "She's got a bit of a rash," the girl pointed out, and she rummaged around my bag and found some Vaseline, then showed me how and where to apply it, and instructed me on how to properly fasten the diaper and make sure it wasn't too loose or tight. I thanked the girl profusely for my free lesson! When I came back outside, Mark asked me if I'd had any trouble and I answered, "Of course not, silly," as though I was miffed that he'd called into question my bona fides as a woman. I probably should have been more honest with Mark - not to mention myself. The next diaper change wasn't remotely as easy! Emma had a full, incredibly stinky one, and I literally had my hands full trying to get her all cleaned up while doing my best not to retch at the sight and smell. Oddly, nobody came to my rescue like the first time! But I had the same kind of feeling I often had when I was doing something intimate with Mark, that Pam was looking over my shoulder. Oh brother, I thought, do I have to feel guilty changing a dirty diaper too? Whatever - looking back, I suppose changing diapers was my initiation into one very small aspect of motherhood, and I'm grateful for having had the opportunity to do that with Emma, as it made me feel closer to her. And the experience would definitely come in handy with my friends' babies in the years to come! Anyway, in spite of all that I had SUCH a great time. It was the most amazing thing to play Mommy to the twins, and make believe I was Mark's wife, and pretend we were a real family - even if I kept feeling Pam's presence. It wouldn't be till a day or so later that my joy turned to sadness as it hit home that pretending was likely as good as it would ever get. Another downer was not being able to remember the day with pictures. I'd brought my camera but Mark didn't want any evidence of what we'd done to be out there in circulation. Whenever I saw other families having their picture taken I felt left out and even ripped off. And when I told Annalise all about my day with Mark and the twins, she said it must have been so hard on me, having a taste of the kind of life she knew I wanted so much, and knowing that Pam owned that life but didn't seem to appreciate it. I hadn't even gone there in my mind yet, but Annalise had put her finger on exactly what my most deeply- felt emotions were. ***** I suppose our day at the zoo should have made me more reluctant to do anything to upset the twins' perfect little world, but it seemed to do the opposite, and I found myself wanting more than ever to be there for Mark and do anything in my power to make him happier. I mean, he was obviously such a great father to those adorable little kids, and that made him even more desirable to me, and didn't he deserve something nice in return for his dedication? The following weekend was chilly and damp, so walking wasn't our best option for together-time. We had an early lunch and then got into his minivan and drove to a secluded spot just outside of town, a place where on a nice day there would be people walking their dogs or bird- watching or whatever, but not this day. Mark locked the doors and moved the two kids' car seats out of the way, and we sat on the middle bench seat, as we often did, chatting and kissing and caressing. Soon the windows were all fogged up and I took the initiative, moving on top of him unbuttoning his shirt so I could put my face in his wonderful chest hair. In response he undid my top and one of his hands slipped under my bra to clutch my boob. It was the first time he'd touched my breasts in a long time, and he seemed to be utterly delighted with how much fuller I'd become since then. "You've always been such a boob man," I teased him. By then it was totally obvious, if you know what I mean, that he was very aroused, and I literally could NOT stop myself from unbuckling his belt and pants. My hand slowly worked its way under the top band of his shorts and it came in contact with something totally amazing and oh-so- stiff, something that I hadn't touched in way too many years. Mark's body gave a noticeable spasm as I let my hand enclose his penis, and he let out an involuntary moan. Of course, I knew there was only one way this was could conceivably end, and I wasn't about to do anything to change that. If any man deserved to be 'looked after' it was Mark McCowan, and I was just the girl to make that happen for him. So my I let my fingers wrap themselves around him, softly at first, then more firmly as I began stroking him - lightly at first, then more purposefully. At that point he just seemed to give in, but his hands didn't - they searched for and found the rear clasp on my bra, and then he grabbed both my boobs as they swung free. His breath started coming in short gasps, and I knew he was almost on the verge - after only like fifteen seconds! I had to abandon my plan to take him in my mouth 'cause his cock was already convulsing, and all of a sudden my hand and wrist were coated by Mark's hot, sticky liquid. I had to clamp my mouth over his to keep him from yelling out loud and calling attention to us! I didn't want to let go of him, and he certainly gave no indication of taking his hands of my boobs, so we just lay there, a bit uncomfortably and more than a bit gooey, for several minutes. "You're messier than your daughter," I kidded him. "I don't suppose you have any of those baby wipes in your van ..." "Maybe," he said, still breathing heavily. "In the back ..." "That's a fine place for them. We're up here." "I didn't think we'd be needing them." I giggled and kissed him. "There's a lot of things you don't think about, darling. That's why you need me." My purse was beside the front seat so I was just able to reach it and extract my little package of Kleenex, which I used up trying to mop up Mark's little present. "Just stay here," I ordered him as I pulled my coat over my wide-open clothing and exited the van. Returning with the wipes, I got him all fixed up and said, "Well, that's that." But to my surprise he pulled me close again and began kissing me more passionately than ever and putting his hands all over my bare skin. I didn't really mind, even when he started probing closer to my vagina. But just then we heard the sound of a car pulling up near us and doors opening and closing and loud voices, and that broke the spell for me - I imagined for a moment it was Pam, the real one, who'd come looking for us! I quickly got up and began fussing with my clothes. Mark, who didn't seem as concerned as me, glanced at the digital clock on the dash and exhaled. "Hmm. I guess we really should be going. But I wanted to ... you know ..." "Do something for me?" I smiled. "Mark, you already did. You have no idea ..." He looked into my eyes and I felt myself melting, like he always made me melt before. "You're pretty amazing, Sandra. I love you." I impulsively squeezed him and put my lips to his. "And I love you too, Mark. More than you'll ever know." ***** Once again I was floating on air all the following week. My rekindled relationship with Mark had definitely gone to the next level, and even though I still had guilt feelings, it wasn't anything that occupied my thoughts too much. All that was important was that Mark McCowan, the first and most significant love of my life, was mine again - even if only once a week on the sly. But still, Erica had planted a little seed in my brain and it had slowly taken root. The following weekend when Mark and I were taking one of our regular walks, holding hands as we always did, I managed to turn the conversation around to ask him why he thought Pam wasn't interested in sex with him. He seemed thoughtful for a moment, and then said, "I wondered when you'd ask me that." "You did? Why?" "Well, 'cause you're not stupid? And you're a girl yourself now, and you have been for a while, so it's kind of natural that you'd wonder what's going through her brain, and how it got there." Maybe I wasn't stupid, but I couldn't figure out where Mark was going with this. "Um, you're going to have to help me out here ..." "Okay, I'll be honest with you. But you may not like what you hear." Now I was worried that I'd opened a big can of worms, and my first thought was 'Oh crap, he's gonna tell me he's got some kind of disease!' I could feel the beginnings of a classic panic attack. "Uh, I think I can handle it ..." "I hope so - it's kind of about you ..." "About ME?" Now I was totally bewildered. "Yeah ... you see, Sandy, I've never gotten over you ..." "You already told me that. I never got over you, either." "Just listen, okay? It's like this ... Pam has always seen you as a threat to our marriage, to her happiness, that kind of thing." "I don't get it - why?" "Because, like I said ... I've never gotten over you. She's a very perceptive girl, Sandy. She can sense things." "So she just knew all along how you felt ..." "Yeah. I thought I could keep it to myself, but you wouldn't believe how many times we had arguments and she'd bring you up and say I didn't love her like I loved you." "That's silly - you married her, not me. And you had kids with her." "But you know why we got married, and why we had those kids. The thing is, she was right - I always did love you more than her." "Well that's pretty awesome, I guess, and thank you, but she should've just been a lot nicer to you and then maybe you'd have loved HER a lot more." He shrugged. "Maybe, but nobody could ever replace you, Sandy. And I think she knew it, so she didn't really try." "But YOU tried, didn't you?" "Yeah ... but eventually I just kind of gave up trying. She's always going on about how she could never be as pretty or as sexy or as talented or as fashionable as you, and how I've never loved her. It gets depressing sometimes, she's so jealous of you." "What? Are you kidding me? Like, she thinks I'm some kind of superwoman? ME? C'mon, that's totally insane! Maybe you should tell her who I REALLY am - that'd cure her inferiority complex once and for all." Mark chuckled. "I almost did tell her once, just to shut her up." "So why didn't you?" "You know I could never do that. It's your secret! She'd have blabbed it to everyone she knew ... well, that's if she even believed it in the first place." "Well thank you for keeping my secret ... but like, I feel terrible for her. She should never have seen me as a threat. I mean, when I saw you guys at Milestones she was like, totally, you know, dismissive of me? Like I was some kind of lower life form?" "That was just her putting on a brave front. After that she told me how scared she was that I'd want to get back together with you." "Oh ... and did you?" "What do YOU think? You were absolutely gorgeous that night. I couldn't believe how beautiful you'd become. And that dress you were wearing - boy, I never thought I'd hear the end of it." "Hmm," I mused, "that was some night for me, too. I think it kind of pushed me closer to Rob, like, feeling like Pam had you wrapped around her little finger, and I'd lost you for good." Mark looked sad when I mentioned Rob. "I'm sorry you got that impression. Maybe I should've called you and explained things ..." "Maybe, maybe not. I dunno. I just don't get why she's like that. Why does she always think the worst?" He shrugged again. "Just a guess, but she didn't have a very happy home life. She was the only child, and her dad left them when she was ten." "Well my dad DIED. I don't think I'm that screwed up." "Yeah, you're right, Sandy. I don't get it either. We walked and chatted a bit longer before saying our goodbyes. It was definitely a more subdued parting than the previous week! By the time I got home later, my head was spinning. The full impact of what Mark had shared was beginning to sink in. Wow! The girl I'd lost out to, who I always thought I could never compete with, felt the same way about me! With good reason, I realized, after hearing how Mark had never made her feel secure in their marriage. Even at age twenty I knew instinctively that girls see love and marriage as a safe haven, a place where the world can't hurt them or steal what they've worked so hard to find. How awful that Pam didn't feel like she had that security! Even so, I was now a girl too, and I craved those same things. I was touched that Mark was still so protective of me, keeping my secrets safe, especially after all I put him through. Then I pondered what he shared with me about his wife. So her father had abandoned Pam and her mother - that could certainly help explain her behavior. I recalled how Erica had recently told me it might have been a better thing that my own dad died rather than just leaving us, as that might have affected me a lot worse. ***** But any compassion I had for Pam was still outweighed by the passion I felt for Mark. By the end of March our get-togethers were usually punctuated by some form of physical sex, including oral. More than once I got my wish to make him come in my mouth, and I finally let him discover my new vulva and vagina, at first fingering me gently and later smothering it with wet kisses and probing into me with his tongue. Now THAT was a first - and I definitely began to feel aroused down there! But I never let things progress to actual intercourse - if only because there was no convenient time or place to build up to it and actually do it, and there's no chance I would let our first time be in the family minivan! No, by then I'd fantasized about it enough that only a picture-perfect romantic date and a fancy hotel room with a king-size bed would suffice! Every week I'd look forward eagerly to our time together, thinking about what I'd wear and how my hair and makeup should look. Knowing what Mark liked, I made sure to choose something really pretty, and accessible, and I even shopped for new bras with front closures to make it easier for him to get me undone and put back together again. But I could never completely shake the feeling that Pam was hovering near me, watching me make myself up for Mark, and observing everything I did with him. I began to think her spirit was haunting me! Most times I could ignore her, like when Mark and I were really into it hot and heavy, but afterwards I'd get this image of her distraught face in my brain. One Monday after work Kath called and said we should get together 'cause spring break had just begun and she finally had some free time. So we went out to a movie and hung out in her basement afterwards, talking about life, job, school, family, friends and whatever else. She said she was going to help work the Taylors with the annual spring ladies' retreat on the upcoming weekend, and inquired if I was planning to do the same, to which I replied that they hadn't asked, and besides I was busy most Saturdays. Kath already knew I was seeing Mark, and she demanded to know what I was doing with him, and how much of it. I laughed and reminded her that whatever was going on between us, she'd put me up to it, and Mark and I were, of necessity, keeping everything top secret. "Not from me you don't!" Kath exclaimed indignantly. "That's not fair - I don't keep any secrets from you!" "Okay, okay, I'm just pulling your leg. You're so nosy! I'll tell you but you're in serious shit if you breathe a word to anyone." Kath made a my-lips-are-sealed gesture with her finger and mouth. Then, against my better judgment, I recounted my experiences of the previous couple of months, leaving very little out. Her expression was priceless! "Well don't ever let anyone say you don't take advice," she said with raised eyebrows. But when I said you had to rescue him I didn't think you'd go quite THAT far." "Well I haven't gone all the way ...YET. Anyway, the only thing that would really count is if I could rescue him from her ... I mean, if they got divorced and he married me instead." "Then you wouldn't be his mistress anymore. What fun would THAT be?" "A lot more fun than sneaking around." "So why doesn't he do that? Have you asked him?" "Yeah ... but she'd never do it. She'd be letting me win and that's the last thing she'd ever let happen. To be honest, I don't think he would either. He's like, one of those guys who honors his commitments. That's what I admire about him." "Well he didn't honor his vows ..." "Yes he did, Kath, but she didn't. So he's off the hook, right?" She shrugged. "If you say so, Sandy. But it sounds like you've got yourself into another dead-end relationship. I'm beginning to feel sorry I talked you into it." ***** Now, you have to understand that I DO listen to my closest friends, and I DO follow their advice. So Kath's parting words on the subject of my affair with Mark really hit me where it hurts. She was a hundred percent right - I WAS in a dead-end relationship ... AGAIN. Mark would never leave Pam for me, and the longer I played mistress to him the more she'd haunt my conscious mind and my dreams. That night, after tossing and turning in bed for hours, I made the difficult decision to put my affair with Mark on ice. It was the only fair thing to do for both of us, for Pam, and especially those sweet children of theirs. Maybe, I thought, I should call on Pam and have a heart-to-heart with her, and let her know I would no longer be a threat to her marriage. Or maybe not. And so began one of the most bewildering weeks of my entire life. And the final follow-on event, the one that would have the most direct and profound effect on my life, took place only a couple of days later. It was eerily like that horrible day in September 2001 when all these events began to unfold, the day Mark phoned me to say his sister was missing and we all feared the worst but hoped and prayed for the best. Mom called me to the phone at around ten on the Wednesday evening. "It's Mark," she said, her face showing concern. "It's about Pam," his voice said gravely when I picked up. "Oh Mark," I said in a near-whisper, "what about her? Is she okay?" "No ... I'm afraid not." He sounded terrible, and I began to feel the same way. "I, um, just had a visit from a policeman ... a few minutes ago. She, um, was killed in a car accident tonight." "Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh Mark ..." He continued, his voice breaking. "They said she was killed instantly. So she didn't, you know ... suffer ..." I honestly didn't know what to say to Mark. All I know is my stomach was turning inside out, from sadness, horror, shock ... and yes, guilt. "Um ... Mark, I'm so, so sorry ..." "I know, Sandy. I just needed to call someone I trusted ... someone who'd understand. I, uh, think I should call my family now." "Do you need to call her mom?" "Yeah ... that's gonna be the hardest. I should really drive over there." "Oh Mark, don't! You're in no condition to drive. I can come ..." "Oh no, that wouldn't be a good idea, Sandy. You stay put. I can deal with this. Anyway, someone has to stay with the kids. I'll get my folks to come over ..." "But I don't want you to have to deal with it all alone. I want to be with you! What can I do to help you?" "You can help by praying for us - for me and the kids. But I think you'd better keep your distance for now, okay?" "Um, yes, you're right. I'll let Mom know, and we'll pray for you. And Mark?" "Yeah?" "Please remember I'm thinking of you. I love you so much." "I love you too. Um, I'd better go. Bye-bye." And that was that. I slumped into the nearest chair before realizing that Mom had been right there listening to the whole thing, or at least my side of it. But I was beyond caring. "His wife's dead," I stated in what must have sounded like a voice devoid of emotion. Odd, considering tears were streaming down my face. "I know," she said, making me wonder how she knew which woman in his life it could have been. It had to be intuition. "How?" "A car crash. He doesn't know the details. But you know, she was always going out at night ..." "Yes, you told me. How is he doing?" "Not good. And he has to let everyone know." "He called you first?" "Yeah, he did. I don't know why ..." "I think I do. And so do you, Alexandra." "Yeah, I guess I do too. I just have trouble accepting ..." "That he loves you?" "Uh-huh. Right now I don't feel like I deserve his love. I feel like I'm responsible." "I know you do, honey. But you shouldn't." "No Mom, you don't understand. She knew Mark still loved me. That's why she was doing those things, like going out and stuff." "Alexandra, it's not your fault he still loved you. That was a long time ago ..." "No, it was now too. Mom, we've been seeing each other. A lot." She smiled at me and spoke softly. "I thought so, honey. Maybe I should have said something, but you're a twenty-year-old girl now, and a very intelligent one. I didn't think you would allow yourself to get too carried away with Mark." "But that's just it, Mom, I did. It was only, like, two nights ago that I made up my mind to stop being such a moron. And now this happens. I can't believe it!" I buried my face in my hands and just sobbed. ***** The next morning I was a wreck, and I should have called in sick, but you know me - I'm just too honest (and please stop laughing). Anyway, the truth would sound even worse: my boyfriend's wife is dead and I'm the one to blame. Whatever - I was able to explain things to Annalise before Leah sent me home with orders to go to bed and sleep off whatever was ailing me. She probably thought I had a major hangover, I don't know. But I took her advice, but not before sending emails to Kath and Erica to let them know what had happened. Kath dropped over after dinner that evening, and the first thing she did was give me a nice long hug. "You don't look so good," she said. I shook my head. "I don't feel so good either." We held each other for the longest time, then headed for my bedroom where we could talk privately. "Is there gonna be a funeral?" she asked as we climbed the stairs. "Uh-huh. On Saturday. But I'm not going ... I don't think I could face her mom. Or anyone else for that matter." "Yeah, I get that. You need some time to deal with all this stuff, don't you?" "Uh-huh ... a lot of time. Kath, I'm so confused - like, after we talked on Monday I decided to break it off with Mark? But now she's gone, so where does that leave us?" She shrugged. "I guess you don't have to break it off anymore. He's a widow or whatever they call the guy ..." "A widower. Makes him sound like some old dude, doesn't it? But like, I feel so guilty about everything. I don't know if I could ever, like, pick up with him again like nothing happened." "I don't see why not, and I don't believe for one second that you had anything to do with her death." "But other people will, when they find out we were seeing each other. Maybe the cops are on their way over right now to take me in, like, on suspicion ..." "Of what? Making her go do stupid things? Anyway, nobody will know anything about you and Mark unless you tell them." "Yeah, I guess you're right. But I still can't see us getting back together after this. Like, I'd always be feeling like Pam's ghost was looking over my shoulder. And what about his family, and his kids? They'd never accept me as a wife substitute or a mother substitute." Kath shrugged again. "Why not? And you'd be a wife and a mother, not a substitute. Sandy, you're a woman, just like any other woman he's likely to meet. And you have a lot of advantages they don't. You guys are already in love with each other, and his folks like you, and his kids like you ..." "Kath, are you being serious? I'm NOT like any other woman - I'm a guy who got an operation. How can someone like me be a wife and a mother?" "Hey, wait a minute! I just spent the past five years listening to you go on about marrying this dude or that dude. Now that you have the chance to do it for real, you're getting cold feet? I don't know about any of this ghost shit, but the last thing I'd worry about is whether Pam was looking over my shoulder. Just give it some time, Sandy. You'll feel better about everything in a few weeks." She had me there. "Okay ... but after all that's happened, how do I know Mark's even interested in getting back together with me? If I were him I'd put some distance between us and keep it like that." "Well, I guess you'll find out, won't you?" ***** Julia called the next day and we talked for a while, but I didn't go into it as deep as I did with Kath because Julia never really knew how serious my affair with Mark had gotten. She also let slip that I could now have Mark if I wanted to, but I didn't respond to that. I think she was just trying to cheer me up, but that wasn't the best way to go about it! "Hey, why don't you come and help with the retreat this weekend?" she said, trying a different tack. "It will do you some good to get out and, you know, keep busy? All the girls you know will be there." "Yeah, I know, Kath told me. Um, but I don't think so ... I had some other plans, and I think I should stick with them." Of course those 'other plans' were now on permanent hold! "Okay Sandy. But if you change your mind, just let me know. Or maybe we can get together soon for coffee or lunch or whatever. I'm kind of missing you these days ..." "Okay, I will. Thanks so much for calling. I miss you too, Julia." ***** I know, I should've gone and helped at the ladies' retreat. It would have been nice to catch up with all the girls I'd worked with over the years when I was just learning how to present myself as one of them. Instead I spent my Saturday wallowing in guilt and self-pity, especially at the appointed time for Pam's funeral. The doorbell rang at around four on the Sunday afternoon. There stood Kath, dressed in the familiar serving outfit of short black skirt, black flats and white shirt we always wore to work catering jobs for the Taylors. "Are you gonna let me in? It's cold out here," she declared. "Skirts totally suck." I managed a little laugh, and we settled into the living room as Mom appeared, asking if we'd like some herbal tea. Kath nodded vigorously, and I said "Sure, thanks." "Sandy, you should've been there," Kath stated. "The talk was all about girls, like us, and our fathers." "Oh. So what about girls and their fathers?" I said in a semi-bored voice, wondering what Kath was so excited about and why I should care, never having had a father. I noticed Mom hovering at the divider between the kitchen and living room, and thought 'whatever.' I was still in a kind of I-don't-give-a-shit-about-anything mood, and if she felt the need to eavesdrop, that was her problem. "Only that it's the most important relationship for a girl. I mean, when you don't have a good father, it affects your entire life, like how you relate to other guys, and who you go out with, and who you get married to ..." "Whoa, Kath, slow down. Where did they get that stuff?" "Research - many years of it." "So how come I've never heard of it before?" Actually, I HAD heard of that sort of thing - anecdotally at least. Most recently from Erica. "I guess it's kind of a political correctness thing? Like, women are supposed to be strong, and resilient, you know? Fathers can be bad apples, sure, but they don't have the power to determine how a girl's life works out." "And fathers aren't even necessary, right?" I added, warming to the subject. "Like, women can have kids and raise them on their own without a father." "Exactly. But it turns out they're all wrong. If a father leaves, girls never get over the scars from being abandoned, and they're at risk ..." "Of acting out in self-destructive ways," I said, finishing her sentence for her. "Like dating the wrong kind of guys, having sex with anyone, and not using birth control ..." Kath didn't skip a beat. "Or even trapping a guy she doesn't even love by getting herself pregnant. Anything to get back that feeling of security she lost when her dad ran off? Sandy, when I was there all I could think of was what you told me about Pam. Like, she's a classic case." Mom brought the tray and set it on the coffee table, and I noticed there were three cups. "You want to join us, Mom?" I asked. She just nodded and sat right down. I could tell she was super-interested in what we were discussing. I was getting there too. I recalled what Mark had told me about Pam - that her father had left when she was only ten. How could he do that to her? "So why would the church talk about that stuff at a ladies-only retreat?' I asked. "Seems to me it's a message men should be hearing." "I think it's 'cause they want us to be more fussy about who we date and get married to and have kids with? So we don't end up as single mothers trying to raise girls who end up picking their own losers and getting into a vicious circle." "What did they say about girls who lost their father - from an accident?" Mom interjected. I wondered that too. "It's not as bad as being abandoned. Girls blame themselves when that happens, so they have all this guilt, and they also feel worthless, 'cause the guy didn't value them enough to be there for them?" Then Kath looked at me. "But all girls need a healthy father figure. If you lost yours or never had one you're still at risk of having problems in your life." "Hmm," I mused. "So do you think some of MY issues are because I didn't have a father in my life?" I already knew the answer to THAT question, but wondered what the experts would say. "You have issues? Who knew?" Kath smirked. Then she shrugged. "I dunno ... maybe. But like, you were born male? So maybe it doesn't work the same way with you ..." I laughed softly. "Well there must be more girl in me than you thought. I'm pretty sure it's why I've always been so desperate to have a steady boyfriend I can count on ... preferably one who'd marry me. It's all about having security ..." "Well, there you go," she laughed. "If that doesn't prove you're a female, nothing will. If your looks weren't convincing enough ..." I glanced at Mom and she didn't seem overly troubled by what she was hearing. "Well I don't mind being predictable. If it comes with the territory ..." "That's just it. It IS predictable. You take any girl who doesn't have a good relationship with her dad and you've got a girl who can't relate to guys in a healthy way. Even if the dad's still in her life - like, if he's a controlling asshole, she's gonna have issues. Oh, sorry for the language, Mrs. Johnson." Mom smiled. "It's okay, Kathleen. But, you know I didn't have a father either. Mine left my mother before I was even born." "Mom, I think you must be the exception," I pointed out. "You don't have any weird issues and you're the strongest woman I know." "Oh, I wish that was true, honey," she laughed. "You're very sweet. But it wasn't so bad for me. After my mother died I was raised by my aunt and uncle. He was the kindest man in the world and he more than made up for not having a father." "Oh, that's so cool," I said. "I didn't know that about him. No wonder you're so kind yourself." "AND such a good mother," Kath added. "I've always thought you were the best mom ever, Mrs. Johnson." Mom was positively beaming. Her number one love language must also be praise, like mine, I thought. Then she spoke up again. "You're both very kind. But there's one other thing you haven't mentioned. We want to make a good safe home, for our husband and our children." Kath jumped in. "Oh yeah - they talked about that. It's our nesting instinct. And when a woman has had a lousy father, she can make choices that, you know, corrupt that instinct? Like having kids with a dude she knows won't hang around to help raise them. Or having a boyfriend who beats up on her kids, or does drugs, and they end up in a shelter ..." "It CAN be a vicious circle, can't it?" I said. "All because of some jerk who should never have been a father." "Exactly," Kath agreed. "It's really something to think about, isn't it?" Mom nodded. "Well Kathleen, I'm very impressed that you listened to that talk and it made sense to you. I've always wondered about those things myself. Many of my clients are women who come from broken homes. We talk a lot, like women always do, and I've heard some real horror stories. You're very lucky to have parents who stayed together." Kath's face took on a funny expression. "They almost didn't a few times. You see, um, my Dad had some affairs? Like, women he met on business trips, that kind of thing?" I was shocked that Kath was sharing this, let alone that she knew about it. I'd had my suspicions in the past but never mentioned them to her. And she'd never said anything to me! Mom's face showed her concern. "Oh Kathleen, I'm so sorry to hear that. Is he still ..." "Seeing other women? No, I don't think so. He and Mom went to counselling - his idea if you can believe it - and they're doing a lot better now. Like, he brings her flowers every week and they go on dates?" "Has your mother ..." "Forgiven him? I think she has. I hope she has. We talked about it over the holidays - that's when I found out for sure. I always suspected he was cheating on her? But anyway, he's older now, and wiser now? They seem to be doing a lot better. I'm SO glad - it was like hell in that house for a while." "That's really good to hear, Kathleen. I mean that things are better now. But do you think you have scars from it? Your father didn't leave ..." "Sometimes I wished he would have. He was a real pain in the butt for a while. But no, I don't think it really affected me that much." 'No, not too much,' I thought. 'You only got yourself pregnant, that's all.' Whatever - that was definitely an eye-opening conversation, and how amazing and timely that my best friend worked that retreat and even opened her ears to hear the message. But later, after I was all tucked safely into my bed, I began thinking about Pam again, and even sensing her presence again. I'd already been feeling a lot more sympathetic toward her, but after the evening's discussion with Mom and Kath, I could feel huge empathy for her - imagining what it must have been like being just ten years of age, having the only father I ever knew leave me never to return. It was absolutely devastating! It wasn't hard at all to go in my mind where she went after that - I'd have this yearning for a secure loving relationship with a guy, finding a good prospect and then doing what it took to make him my husband ... but never being able to trust him fully. Because he loved another girl more than he loved me. And I'd retreat into my shell and fight back the only way I knew how - by showing that man I didn't need him, that I could get everything I needed from myself and my circle of friends. Maybe even having my OWN honey on the side. But if I found out he was cheating on me with his old flame, it would be every bit as devastating as when my father abandoned me. Needless to say, I bawled my eyes out that night. Forget Mark, forget the twins - how could I have done that to Pam? And forget anything Mark deserved - she deserved a million times more than I ever gave her. I only took from her. I felt like an absolute shit over what I'd done to that poor girl. But strangely, I didn't really place much blame on Mark. After all, he was just a man, caught up in all that female drama. What could he possibly know about what makes us girls tick, or where our pain comes from? Oh, I know what you're thinking: Sandra's overactive imagination is overplaying the whole thing. Must be those hormones she's still on! Well you might be right, but all I know is that I internalized all the emotional baggage I imagined Pam was controlled by, and I was profoundly affected by it myself. ***** Who ya gonna call when you're haunted by a ghost? Why, my own personal ghostbuster Erica - who else? We met for lunch one work day the following week and I tearfully spilled my guts to her about how I'd gone from hating Pam to having enormous compassion for her. How completely awful it was, I said, that she never felt that her husband loved her unconditionally. And how devastating if she found out he was having an affair with me. Erica listened intently, nodding as I spoke, and said she was amazed at the emotional connection she felt that I had with other women. "You really feel her pain, don't you?" she remarked. "If I was superstitious I'd think Pam's spirit was inhabiting your soul. You know, using you to be heard?" "Yeah, but I had an even worse thought," I said ruefully. "That she's getting her revenge on me? Like, I'd go out and tell the whole world if I thought she'd be happy and let me have my life back." Erica shook her head. "I'm afraid the only thing that will help with that is time. Perhaps if you speak to Mark about it ..." "I dunno. He hasn't called or anything since the accident. I wonder if he doesn't want to see me any more." "That seems unlikely - and a bit extreme? Perhaps he just has his plate full. When a family member dies, there's quite a pile of things to sort out - death certificate, legal papers to file, taxes to complete, and if there's a will ..." "There isn't. Why would she ever think to do a will? She was like, twenty-one." Erica looked pensive. "Hmm. Well, without a will Mark has sole custody of the kids. Pam's mother has no rights." "Why is that a big deal?" "Because when he re-marries, his new wife is legally able to adopt them as her own. Sandra, is that something you've thought of?" I laughed nervously. "I guess I have ... but I didn't know. And to be honest I don't know if I'm ready to be a mom. I had enough trouble just changing a diaper ..." She smiled. "Well I know you're a fast learner. But it's a huge responsibility. And a lot of hard work. At least the diaper phase is almost over." "Yeah, that's one positive thing." "I'm sure there are a great many positive things you can think of, Sandra." "Yeah, I suppose. Like, I was thinking about Pam? She wasn't like most girls whose fathers leave. She picked a really good guy, not a loser, right?" "Hmm," mused Erica. "I wondered about that too. But ultimately he really WAS the wrong guy for her, wasn't he?" "Oh ... yeah, I guess you're right. Like, he has that gay streak ..." "I wasn't thinking of that so much as how much he still loved you? But it's a point." "So ..." "So they weren't really a good match, but you two are. I think you'll be the perfect partner for him, and those kids will have the perfect mom. I'd put money on it!" As I rode the elevator back to the office I thought, 'Wow, what just happened there? She was talking like it was a done deal!' My heart was pounding and I couldn't wait to tell Annalise. ***** Another week went by with no communication from Mark, and I was getting pretty nervous and frustrated, so I finally stuck my neck out and sent him an email from work, asking how he was doing. He answered minutes later, saying he was coping, and he expressed regret for not being in touch. He said he'd heard via Ben that I wasn't too eager to keep seeing him, so he wasn't sure if he should reach out or not. I replied saying there's stuff we need to talk about, and we should get together or at least do a phone call. He said he'd call that night after the kids were in bed. As the day wore on I became less annoyed and more excited to be able to finally have a conversation with Mark. Obviously I had some major unresolved concerns about Pam, and our relationship, and a lot of unanswered questions, so when the phone rang I literally jumped. It was him. "Can you wait a minute?" I said. I asked Mom to hang up after I picked up in my bedroom, then bounded up the stairs. "Still there?" I asked him, a little out of breath. "I'm here. Nice to hear your voice - have you been out running?" "Uh, no ... oh, I know what you mean. Anyway we haven't talked, and I ..." "Wanted to know what's up. I'm sorry - it's been a bit crazy these last two weeks." "I can hardly imagine. You must have been run off your feet taking care of stuff. But how are you doing ? How are you feeling? Like ..." "I won't lie - it's been hard. You know she wasn't always the nicest person in the world, but she never deserved that." "How did it happen?" "She was in a car with this guy - maybe she was dating him, I dunno - and they were T-boned at an intersection. In the passenger side, by a pickup going through a red light." "Oh my God, really?" Just then I recalled something Mark had said years before, about pickup trucks causing so many accidents. I remembered being annoyed at how he always seemed to generalize. "Yeah, it HAD to be a pickup. The guy was stone drunk. Cops told me he had three prior DUI's and was driving without a licence. Guess he's in big trouble." "But Pam paid a lot higher price," I said. "Mark, I've been thinking about her so much! I just feel for her. Like, she never had happiness, did she? It just seems so wrong, and so unfair ... everything." "How do you think I feel? My kids lost their mother. I lost my wife." "Yeah, I know ... and her mom lost her only daughter. How is she taking it?" "Hard to tell. They didn't get along all that well. Pam was a lot closer to her grandmother. She's devastated." "How terrible for her. I can't begin to imagine." "What did you mean you feel for Pam?" I didn't know how much I should tell him. "I don't know why, but I do. Like she was me, or she was my twin sister. But I ... anyway, I didn't even know her, but I feel like I do. It's all so confusing ... and incredibly sad." He was quiet for a moment. "Interesting," he said. "Listen Sandy, this isn't the best way for us to talk. We should meet somewhere." "Do you want me to come there?" "Uh, no ... it wouldn't look good if the neighbors saw you. I'll see if Mom or Megan can babysit. How does tomorrow night look?" "It's good. Just tell me where." "I will. G'bye." ***** The next evening I met Mark at a little bistro we'd visited on a date years before. We hugged and sat down. I ordered a soda and a panini sandwich with a side salad, and he opted for the same thing. I could tell right away that things were different. Mark didn't reach out to hold my hands like he did before, and I suppose I wasn't overly warm towards him either. Pam's death had obviously caused us both to step back and put some distance between us. But we were able to pick up our conversation where we left off. Mark said he'd thought a lot about what I'd said the night before, about how I could feel Pam's pain. "I know she was really hurting, Sandy," he stated. "But you say you could sense that?" I nodded. "It's really weird. I could literally feel her presence, and her emotions. While you and I were together. When I was by myself. I can still feel it. We both hurt her, Mark. Maybe me more than you." "I don't think so. It all started with me." "What makes you say that?" He looked out the window and was quiet for a minute. I thought I could see dampness in his eyes. Then he leaned closer and spoke in a low voice. "It's something I told you a long time ago ..." "I think I know what you mean - you said you thought you were gay." He nodded. "Yeah. It's why I wasn't really attracted to her ... you know, sexually. And she didn't realize that until it was too late." "I don't get it - you were attracted enough to get her pregnant." "Not really. That happened because ... well ..." "Oh no - because you were trying to get back at me?" "That's only part of it. The other part is that I pretended it was you I was with." I was floored. This was all so ... crazy! "Okay, um ... you have to help me here. I'm so confused. You had sex with Pam 'cause you were pissed with me, but you imagined it was me you were screwing so you could get ..." "An erection." He nodded. "That's, uh ... pretty amazing. And if I've learned anything about women, they know ..." "I think she did." "That must have been so painful for her. But I thought you never wanted me to have a vagina. So how could you imagine her vagina was mine?" "Sandy, keep your voice down. I never said I didn't want you to have a vagina." I glanced around to see who might be eavesdropping. "Yes you did - you said you wanted me to keep, uh, what I was born with." Mark shrugged. "Okay, so I might have said that. But only so you wouldn't think I was pressuring you." "To have a sex change? No, why would I ever get that impression? But I sure felt pressure not to. It's why we broke up." Okay, there were other factors, like hormone-induced mood swings, but they were a lot more trivial, right? "That's it? You broke up with me over that?" "Mark, do you still not understand? Having that operation was the single most important thing to me. I couldn't imagine being a girl with a - you know what - for the rest of my life." "I get that. I'm glad you got the operation. I'm not any less attracted to you now ..." "Are you sure? You just said you weren't attracted to your wife, and she had a vagina. She was even blonde like I am." "But Sandy, you don't get it. How can I say this ... look, we've been seeing each other again for what, three months? Did you ever get the feeling I wasn't attracted to you, to your body, to everything about you?" "No, I didn't ... so what's so different about me?" He threw his hands up in mock frustration, and leaned forward to whisper, "Everything. To begin with, you're a guy!" That stopped me in my tracks. How stupid I was! Here I was putting this man through the third degree to get him to admit to ... what? That he could never love me or find me attractive enough without a penis? And I find out that wasn't a deal breaker after all. But I still needed more confirmation. "So ... that's what you've always liked about me? That I'm XY? So now that Pam's gone, why wouldn't you just take up with some other gay guy? What's so special about me?" He just stared at me and shook his head. "Sandy, you can't be serious. You know exactly what's so special about you." Okay, so maybe I did know, but I wasn't done with him yet. "Okay, so you like guys who wear dresses. They're not hard to find these days ..." Mark shrugged. "There's only one guy I like who wears a dress. And that guy puts all the rest of them to shame. He's more feminine and more beautiful than any girl I've ever met. And I like how he looks in a dress too." I couldn't suppress a giggle - Mark was speaking one of my love languages! Even if he WAS using the masculine pronoun. "Sandy, I'm not like most gay guys," he continued. "I'm not turned on at all by male bodies and muscles and that kind of thing. I'm only turned on by a guy with a female body, who dresses and acts and sounds like a female. That's you." "I'm not the only one of those either." "Maybe not, but you're the only one I'M in love with." "Really, Mark? Are you sure? I'm pretty high maintenance, you know." "I know ... and I hope you'll never change." "Never? There must be something you don't like about me ..." He made a funny expression and cocked his head. "The blonde hair. I'm a brunette guy through and through. Sorry." That made me laugh. "Well that's one change I CAN make. I just have to stay away from my hairdresser for a while." Mark laughed too. And all of a sudden the tension was gone. But I didn't want to jinx anything so I said I should be getting home to get a good night's sleep for work the next day, and he didn't disagree. In the parking lot we hugged again but didn't kiss. That bothered me a little, but with all the grief and anxiety of the previous weeks I wasn't overly concerned. In bed that night, as I went through my usual deconstruction of the day's events, it struck me that I'd misread Mark and his motivations pretty badly. But I think he'd committed the same sin with me. Whatever - it was nothing short of astonishing that we'd both felt secure enough with each other to put our cards on the table, and I felt that I'd learned some fascinating things about him. Still, I think we both felt a certain amount of trepidation about our future - if there was to be one. We hadn't talked about what our next steps might be, if any, for instance. And neither of us had mentioned the most remarkable thing about the present circumstance: namely, all that now stood in the way of a future together were our own silly idiosyncrasies (and maybe Pam's ghost!). How ironic it would be, I thought, if our love only thrived when we were slinking around, seeing each other on the side. That would be no future at all. To be continued ....