Theresa Chapter 34 by Hebe Dotson

The Story So Far (TGF subscribers can read earlier installments): Terri’s path to sexual reassignment surgery appears to be open. More good luck: she’s found a new friend – Christine Riordan, a trainee sales associate at the department store. Terri and Chris go to a party in the Village. One of the hosts is a beautiful young woman who (Terri suddenly realizes) is none other than Jim Walters, at one time a fellow student at Littlefield Academy. Terri, not wanting to be recognized as Alan, makes minimal conversation and goes off “to get a drink”. Jim and Chris, appearing to be quite interested in each other, barely note her departure. Terri now realizes that she must share her secret with Chris before her friend learns it from Jim. She invites Chris to dinner at her apartment. After much dithering, Terri begins to tell her tale – only to be asked if she isn’t really a guy named Alan Sayers. She admits that she is – or was – and goes on with her story, as the evening evolves into an impromptu slumber party. Now, at 2:30 a.m., the party is running down…or is it?

“My gosh!” Chris said. “It’s almost 2:30! I’ve got to get some sleep so I can get up and take these silly braids out and go meet Jim.”
I yawned. “All right, I’ll stop telling you my fabulous stories.” I stood up, stretched, and extended a hand to Chris to help her up from the carpet. “This bed is very comfortable,” I said. “Do you need anything? Another glass of wine?”
“No, thanks. You’ve been a marvelous hostess, but if I have any more wine, I won’t wake up until Monday morning. If then.”
“Good night, then.” I started towards the door.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to bed, so you can get some sleep.”
“Theresa Sayers! This is a slumber party! You can’t leave until the party’s over!”
“It’s not over?”
“Of course not. There’s an obligatory period of slumber — ten minutes or so — and you can’t leave before that. Which side of the bed do you want?”
“Umm…I don’t know,” I said. “You’re the guest — take whichever side you want.”
“Okay,” Chris said. She lifted the covers and slid into bed. I paused for a moment and then climbed in beside her. “I didn’t know I’d be staying, so I didn’t bring my Raggedy Ann doll,” Chris said. “Can I use you instead?”
“Umm…sure,” I said.
She snuggled up to me and wrapped an arm around me. “You’re a little bigger than Raggedy Ann, but I’ll make do,” she said.
We lay quietly for a minute or two. I felt incredibly tired, but my mind was whirling with all the memories that I’d dredged up from my past this evening — not that I had a lengthy past, but my life so far had been quite eventful.
I heard a whisper. “Terri?”
“Yes?”
“You’re not asleep.”
“No; I’m too wound up, I guess.”
“Me, too.”
The ensuing silence lasted for perhaps another minute before Chris whispered again. “Terr?”
“Yes.”
“Thanks for being so honest with me and telling me so much about yourself.”
“You knew it all anyway, Miss Drew.”
“No, I didn’t. I knew — or at least guessed — some things, but it’s all the details that are so important, that tell me who you are and why. I mean, it was something of a shock to me to find that my girlfriend is — used to be — a guy. And then, knowing that, to end the evening still girlfriends.”
“I’m glad we’re still girlfriends,” I said. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, and it would have broken my heart to lose you.”
“Same here,” Chris said. “It’s funny: I don’t feel the least bit attracted to you as a guy, but I just love you as you are now. Not in a sexual way, not like what’s-her-name — Angie? — at Scyros. I don’t go for girls at all, that way, but I love having you for a friend.”
“And I feel the same way about you. You’re a wonderful woman, Chris, and I love you, but I don’t feel anything sexual. I didn’t when you were standing in front of me nude; I don’t even now when we’re cuddled together in bed. There just ain’t no action in my apparatus. And that’s fine with me — I like things just as they are.”
“I’m so glad.” She hugged me and I hugged her back.
We lay in silence for another minute before Chris whispered again. “Terr?”
“Still here.”
She giggled and poked me in the ribs. “It’s funny.”
“What’s funny?”
“You and Jim.”
“What’s so funny about me and Jim?”
“Well, you were both born male, but I’ve only seen you as females, except for the photos. And yet I see Jim as boyfriend material and you as a girlfriend, and I wouldn’t want it the other way around.”
“That’s good, I guess.”
“That is good, Miss Terri. I certainly wouldn’t want Jim for a girlfriend. He’s nice and I enjoy his company a lot, but he’s no woman. He’s a guy — he likes to dress up, but he doesn’t want to be a woman or live or work as a woman. You, on the other hand, are a girl — in fact, you’re about the girliest person I know. You’re a terrific girlfriend, but I’d hate to have to try to make a boyfriend out of you.”
“It would never work,” I agreed.
“And now that we’ve straightened all that out, I’m ready to go to sleep,” Chris said. She hugged me again, kissed my cheek, and dropped off almost immediately. I stayed awake for a few more minutes — I saw 2:55 on the bedroom clock, and the next time I looked it read 9:15.

***

I threw on a robe and went out to check on the household. Mother was a real miracle worker — she’d somehow managed to keep Jessie quiet so Chris and I could sleep. My appearance ended that: when Jessie saw me, she decided she was ready to play. I tried to keep her quiet, but I didn’t have my mother’s touch and a few minutes later a bleary-eyed Chris joined us in the kitchen.
“Oh, my god,” she said. “How could I have slept so late? I’m supposed to meet Jim at noon.”
I handed her a cup of coffee. “You’ve got plenty of time,” I said. “You’ve got dibs on the bathroom, and we’ll have breakfast for you when you’re dressed.”
“I can’t eat now, Terr — I won’t have any appetite for lunch. I’ll just take a quick shower, if that’s okay, and then I’d better go home and decide what I’m going to wear.”
I got some towels for her and gave her a 30-second briefing on our shower’s peculiarities. She emerged fifteen minutes later, dressed and looking almost perky. She took the time for another cup of coffee and then headed for the subway.

***

Chris called me Sunday afternoon and we had a long chat. She’d had a wonderful time with Jim, who’d looked somewhat different but quite handsome in a suit and tie. Lunch and the Met continued on into dinner and a slow, conversational walk back to Chris’s apartment, ending in a highly enjoyable kiss at her front door.
In my expert opinion, Chris was smitten. When I announced this verdict, she refused to deny it.

***

The doorbell rang and I glanced at my watch. It was exactly seven o’clock — Brad was right on time. Jessie was all ready for bed, and I blew her a goodnight kiss as Mother scooped her up and headed for her bedroom. I grabbed my purse and my coat and slipped out the door.
As I closed the door behind me, I considered the possibility that someone other than Brad had rung the doorbell — a magazine salesman, perhaps. But there was no need for concern — it was Brad, and he gave me an appreciative smile as he helped me into my coat.
“Amazing!” he said. “You look even more gorgeous than you did at the party.”
“Let’s see,” I replied. “That’s ten points for punctuality and ten more for flattery. Twenty points already, before we even get to the elevator.”
“Points toward what?”
“Well, we’ll have to see about that, won’t we?”
The elevator arrived, issued its usual groaning complaint, and — after three increasingly vicious jabs at the “L” button — reluctantly took us down to the ground floor. We went out to the street, turned right, and walked two blocks to the subway entrance.
We reached the restaurant a few minutes early for our eight o’clock reservation and were seated immediately. The restaurant, which specialized in Andean cuisine, wasn’t crowded. “Remember,” Brad said, “I only said this place was interesting. I didn’t say it was good.”
I looked around. All the customers I could see appeared to be enjoying their meals. “Maybe it just hasn’t caught on yet,” I said. “Let’s give it a try.”
Brad looked at the wine list and ordered a bottle of a Chilean white wine. “I’ve had this before,” he said. “It’s quite good.” And it was — cold, crisp, dry, and delicious.
We studied the menu, asked the waiter for recommendations, placed our orders, and sat back to enjoy the wine. “It was too noisy at the party,” I said, “but now I want to hear all about your novel. Is it contemporary or historical?”
“Are those my only choices?” Brad said. “It could be futuristic — science fiction.”
“Is it?”
“No. It’s contemporary — very contemporary.”
“What’s the setting? What’s it about?”
He smiled at me. “The setting is right here in New York — and my protagonist is a man who desperately wants to be a woman.”

To be continued

Category: Transgender Fun & Entertainment