Found Family: Chapter 5 (Final) by Clara Copyright© 2025 Clara Schumann Mary's cousin Connor came over to watch ball with the boys, but in coming over, Connor finds out some things about himself and Connie emerged from her prison!

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Author's Note: I trust that if you have followed my story this far, it must truly mean something to all of you. Things for me have been a lot slower this year and it will take me longer to write than I used to. Old age kind of does that to a person. I still have fun putting out something for you all to enjoy, I do. If I do decide to do more, it will be at a much slower pace, so have patience, stay strong, and believe. I do have more to say. For now, here is the last chapter to this tale and I hope that you find it as enjoyable as I did. ~Clara.

Image Credit: https://perchance.org/beautiful-people
 
 
Chapter 5
“The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other." - Richard Bach 
 
 
“You all understand that this is a hearing, not a trial,” the judge, a man in his mid-forties with salt-and-pepper hair and an expensive suit began. “We will keep things a bit informal, today, but attorneys please keep your presentations as brief as possible and keep your clients on topic. Now, all parties have agreed that my ruling will be conclusive. Is all of this agreeable with everyone?”

Both Attorney Roger Wexler and Attorney H. Eleanore Bentley voiced their assent.

All the interested parties, the judge, lawyers, and all the people named in the case were seated around a large wooden desk that sat in front of the raised platform where the judge would sit during a trial. Mary, Connor and Amy, the only spectators, sat in the courtroom’s gallery seats. The only other person in the courtroom was a barrel-chested court officer who had introduced himself to ‘the ladies’ as Stanley. Stanley sat to the side of the large desk with a book open. He was reading his story and apparently only present in case of an unexpected emergency.

“Good,” the judge said, picking up the files. Then, for the record, he began, “In the matter of Alan Crenshaw et al. -v- Capeway Concepts et al., attorney H. Eleanore Bentley for the complainants and attorney Roger Wexler for the defendants. Ms Bentley are all members of your party present?”

“Yes, your honor,” Heather stood and said.

“And Mr Wexler, are all members of your party present?”

Wexler stood with a bit of effort and said, “Yes, your honor.”

“Excellent.” He seemed to notice Mr Wexler’s difficulty standing and added. “There is no need to stand to speak today, councilors. We’re not in a formal court setting. Now, let’s begin. Ms Bentley?”

Heather gave a brief and rather slanted summary of the events that led to the conflicts between Crenshaw, Joe and Bill, and his subsequent issues with Phil, and Human Resources' dismissal of him and the others, which resulted in the lawsuit that led them all to the courtroom on that day. Throughout Heather’s monologue, no shadow of responsibility for bad behavior was ever shed on Alan Crenshaw. He was portrayed as a talented employee with a bright future who was misunderstood by the thin-skinned, hot-tempered coworkers who had no sense of humor.

When she’d finished, the judges asked, “Mr Wexler?”

“I will reserve my opening remarks until we present our case, your honor.”

“Very good. Ms Bentley… call your first witness.”

“Thank you, your honor. Francis Wheatley.”

Fran Wheatley was one of the crew that had been sacked along with Alan Crenshaw. He hadn’t been involved in any of the comments surrounding the photo of Connor, just the harassment of Phil.

He was questioned by Heather and cross examined by Wexler and essentially came off as a misunderstood boy scout.

The next two witnesses, also part of the Crenshaw team, were treated the same. Softball questions and ‘I was just misunderstood’ answers.

Finally, Alan Crenshaw was called. After the preliminary questions were asked and answered, Heather asked about the day of the company meeting on which Mr Crenshaw “first saw the photograph of Mr Connor Miller dressed as a young woman. What was your reaction to that photograph?”

“At first I was confused,” Crenshaw said with well rehearsed shock and sincerity. “I mean… the face was familiar, but the girl in the photo looked like she was just a kid, you know?”

“Ah, hem,” Wexler interrupted. “If I may, your honor.”

“Of course,” the judge allowed the interruption since they were not following strict courtroom procedures.

“Mr Crenshaw, you just stated that the person in the photo looked ‘like a kid,’ but didn’t you in fact say to Mr Brooks and Mr Fuller, ‘I’d do her?’”

“What?” Crenshaw looked horrified. “Of course not! In fact, when I realized who the person in the picture really was, I couldn’t believe it! I mean… what kind of a game were they playing at?”

“Oh, come on,” Bill said.

The judge held up a hand. “You’ll get your turn, sir.”

“So, you thought the photo was… inappropriate then?” Heather continued.

“Completely inappropriate,” Crenshaw said, sounding very self righteous. “Even our president has said that we have to be on guard against this kind of attack on our society.”

Eager to move away from Crenshaw’s politics, Heather moved on. “And not too long after that, you had the opportunity to meet a new employee at Capeways, did you not? A woman named Phyllis Stratton, but who goes by the nickname ‘Phil.’”

“Yeah, I did,” Crenshaw snickered.

“And how would you describe this new employee?”

“She looked like a guy. You know – a crew cut, guys shirt, guys pants, the whole bit. I mean, she’s sitting right there, you can see for yourself. She just lives in the same make-believe world as Connor Miller, but living the opposite fantasy, I guess.”

“Again, your honor, if I may…” Wexler interrupted.

“Actually, Mr Wexler,” the judge said, “I think I’d rather let Mr Crenshaw continue. You can, of course, cross examine and you can rebut when presenting your own case.”

“Thank you, your honor,” Wexler said, obviously miffed.

Heather tried to get a handle on her witness. “Do you recall what transpired the morning you met your new colleague?”

“Yeah,” Crenshaw laughed. “I got fired.”

“And why was that, Mr Crenshaw?”

“Because that girl over there,” he pointed at Human Resources Director Jean Crowley, “couldn’t take a joke and fired me.”

Heather sighed. Things had not gone as well as she’d hoped. Alan Crenshaw was just a smug, unlikable person, but that doesn’t mean he should have been fired.

“Any questions, Mr Wexler?” The judge asked.

“I do, Your Honor,” Wexler said. He turned to Crenshaw. “So everything you said to and about these people… Phil Stratton and Connie Miller… was intended to be humorous?”

“Yeah,” Crenshaw shrugged. “Those guys thought it was funny.” He indicated his fellow complainants who all nodded.

“Mr Crenshaw,” Wexler sounded incredulous, “do you expect everyone here to expect that everything you said was NOT intended to cause pain to these two people or the people who care for them?”

“Yeah. That’s what I’m saying. I had no idea they couldn’t take a joke. And I for real didn’t know that Bill Fuller was screwing around with Connor Miller on the side. I mean I knew he was married and I’ve known him since high school and I never suspected that that he’d swing that way, but to each his own, you know.”

Bill stood and slammed his fist into the table in front of him. “What the fuck!?” He hollered at the top of his lungs.

“Bill, sit down,” Amy said from the seats in the courtroom gallery in as calming a voice as she could find.

“Mr Fuller take a seat or I’ll have you removed,” the judge commanded.

“No!” Bill shouted just as revved up as before. “Amy’s my wife and Connie is like family to me and I would rather lose my job than let that piece of garbage say things that hurt them and that’s what you people are letting him do. AND YOU!” He said to Heather with complete disgust. “How do you even look at yourself in the mirror? Connie is your sibling for Christ’s sake, and you’re here defending this asshat’s behavior and letting him say all those things. What the hell is wrong with you? Are you even human?”

At this point, Stanley, the Court Officer, was standing and moving to the judge’s side.

Joe moved in front of Bill to calm him. “Come on buddy. Everything you’re saying right. It’s all true, bud, but… I guess this isn’t the place for truth so… just take a breath and sit back down pal. Ok?”

Finally, and slowly, and angrily, Bill sat.

The judge looked at everyone for a moment and evaluated all the faces. Then spoke.

“Mr. Fuller… after an outburst like the one I just witnessed, I should have the court officer remove you from this hearing in handcuffs, but I suspect there is more to this case than the briefs are telling me. So… it is eleven-twenty right now. We are dismissing for lunch at this time, and we will reconvene at one o’clock this afternoon at which time I expect all parties to be calm, sober and cool-headed. I want absolutely no interactions between the plaintiffs and defendants during our recess. There are plenty of restaurants nearby, so any parties associated with the plaintiffs must turn to the left when exiting the front of the courthouse, and all parties associated with the defendants must turn right. ZERO interaction. No exceptions NONE. Am I making myself clear?”

Everyone nodded.

“Good. Mr. Wexler, Ms. Bentley, you will be joining me in my chambers, and we will be trying to unravel this mess the two of you have created.”

“Your Honor,” Heather said, “I had hoped to have some time to conference with my client…”

“Too goddamned bad, Ms Bentley,” the judge nearly shouted, his frustration fully on display. “You have had weeks to conference with your clients Ms Bentley, and it seems to have done no good whatsoever. You have three minutes to gather your files and get into my chambers before I find you in contempt.”

“Your Honor,” Wexler said, gathering his things, “I intend to comply, but I am a diabetic and I do need to have a mid-day meal to regulate my sugar.”

“Yes, Mr. Wexler, I will have my clerk make a run to the deli around the corner to get meals for all of us, but this all needs to be worked out NOW.”

The judge and lawyers exited quickly. Crenshaw and his crew all left acting strangely triumphant and high-fiving each other like frat boys who just won a drinking contest.

Jean Crowley, Head of HR, was the first to speak. “Well, I don’t think you helped our cause at all Bill. I think you seriously pissed off the judge and Wexler’s got a lot of uphill work to do to get us out of the mess you’ve just created.”

“Hold up now Jean,” Joe said, but Phil interrupted.

“No, Joe,” they said. “I don’t know if you heard what he said, but he was defending his wife and his friend. He doesn’t give a crap if I lose my job, or if Jean does or if you do, so… I’m done.” They looked at Bill. “Obviously this is all about you, Bill. So good luck.” She turned and walked out.

Jean shook her head in frustration and disgust and followed Phil.
 

 
The judge threw the door to his chambers open and entered without hiding the anger he’d been holding back in the hearing. Heather followed and then Wexler. Both looked concerned.

“Jason!” The judge shouted and a young man appeared.

“Yes, Your Honor?”

“I need you to make a run to the deli for us, Jason. I’ll have a Reuben with everything and a Coke…”

“But Your Honor, your wife said that your cardiologist said…”

“A REUBEN WITH EVERYTHING, Jason, and a Coke, and whatever these two want.” He gestured to the two lawyers.

When the orders were taken and Jason had exited and closed the door, the judge said to Wexler, “Roger you were goading that witness and I was about to point that out before everything went off the rails. You should have explained to your client that he should only speak when spoken to in a hearing such as this.”

“Sorry, Your Honor, and I believe I had made the procedures clear, but the young man was obviously upset.”

“Understood.” Then he looked at Heather. “Heather…” he sighed. “Just what the hell happened out there and is this going to continue this afternoon?”

“Ok, Your Honor, I admit that Mr Crenshaw was a bit… shall we say… provocative out there, but that’s why we’re here, isn’t it? If he was an elegant speaker or someone who could hold his tongue, then the events in question never would have occurred.”

“Then you’re admitting that your clients created the climate of hate that caused them to be dismissed from their positions?” Wexler asked.

“Not at all,” Heather smirked. “There is no reason that people should be forced to work in an environment that makes them feel uncomfortable, and working with trans-people makes Mr Crenshaw and the rest feel uncomfortable.”

“Yes, but Connie Miller doesn’t work with Mr Crenshaw. Crenshaw chose to impose himself into a conversation about her.”

Heather heaved a heavy, frustrated sigh. “His name is Connor, Roger, not Connie and HE is NOT a woman.”

“Alright, now hold up,” the judge said. “Am I to understand that this person is your brother, Heather?”

“Half-brother,” Heather corrected. “He’s much younger than me and we’re not close.”

The judge nodded. “Uh huh.”
 

 
“Man, I messed everything up. I’m so sorry, Joe,” Bill said, sipping his soda and grabbing a chip from the bag that was opened on the sandwich paper in front of him.

“I don’t know, bud,” Joe said. “I was pretty close to letting loose too, and that prick wasn’t going after me. If you ask me, I’d say you were actually pretty controlled, under the circumstances.”

“Yeah, well obviously Phil and Jean don’t seem to agree with you.”

Joe shrugged. “I can’t speak for them, but… from the way the judge said ‘normally you’d be in handcuffs,’ I think we’re probably ok. Win or lose, I don’t think that your outburst is going to impact the outcome much.”

“I think he’s right,” Toni agreed. “I know I don’t have a horse in this race, but anyone could see that Crenshaw was intentionally provoking you. Certainly, the judge seemed to see it.”

“This is too much,” Mary muttered, leaning back in her seat and sighing. “Alan was a jackass when we were kids and he’s even worse now. I’m sick of that jerk holding power over us.”

“Agreed,” Amy said. “Hopefully it all ends today… one way or another.”

“It can only end one way,” Connor said. “Bill and Joe have got to win and that jerk has to lose. End of story.”

“Let’s hope so,” Mary said and took another sip of wine. She looked at Amy. “Why are you drinking lemonade? We always have wine when we go out for lunch.”

Amy shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just taking a break, I guess. The judge said he wanted everyone to come back sober.”

“Yeah. The guys and the people involved in the hearing. Not us. We’re just in ‘the peanut gallery,’ as my mother would say.” Mary took another sip.

Connor looked at Amy suspiciously.

“What?” Amy asked.

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” He asked.

Mary nearly spit out here wine. Amy just blushed.

After a moment, Mary slapped her friend’s arm. “You bitch! You are, aren’t you!?”

“What’s going on, now?” Joe asked, confused by the sudden uproar on the other side of the table.

“My best friend is pregnant, and she didn’t even tell me,” Mary said, way too loudly, and half laughing as she did so. “That’s what’s going on.” She slapped Amy’s arm again.

“Alright! Stop!” Amy said, holding up her arms to thwart off Mary’s strikes. “I’m only a few weeks late. I just took a pee test this morning. I haven’t even seen a doctor yet.”

“Oh, my God!” Mary said in a strange, tearful voice as she grabbed Connor and pulled him into a group hug along with Amy. “I’m so happy for you.”

“I have to admit,” Joe said to Bill, “you have incredible timing.”

“No kidding, huh?”
 

 
“I want to remind everyone in this room,” the Judge said, “that the attorneys and I may speak at any time, but anyone else may only speak when spoken to and will cease speaking when instructed to do so. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” they all replied, more or less in unison.

Connor noticed that a simple whiff of the air in the room indicted Crenshaw and his friends had not adhered to the judge’s command to return sober. They all smelled, to some degree or other, of beer.

“Mr Wexler,” the Judge began after going back on the record, “do you have more questions for Mr Crenshaw at this time?”

“Not at this time, Your Honor, but I may need to recall him later, if necessary.”

“Understood,” the judge said.

Crenshaw whispered something to his friends who all laughed.

“Mr Crenshaw,” the judge asked, looking over his glasses at the group, “did something amuse you and your friends?”

“No, Your Honor,” Crenshaw said with very little respect in his voice.

“Ms Bentley, have you anyone else to call at this time?” The judge asked.

“No, Your Honor.”

“Mr Wexler, you may call your first witness.”

First Wexler called Jean Crowley and rather dryly discussed the company’s harassment policies. Then he asked about the events leading up to Crenshaw’s dismissal, etc… He wasn’t nearly as engaging as Heather had been.

Then he spoke to Phil and walked them through their experiences the only morning that they worked with Crenshaw. Somehow, what was a rather shocking and upsetting event for everyone present was laid out as a very run-of-the-mill interaction. Phil shrugged a lot and said that, yeah, they had been through a rather embarrassing morning, but for someone who chose to live as they did, it wasn’t all that uncommon for things like this to happen. It just kinda came with the territory.

Bill and Joe looked at each other. This didn’t look good. They were going to look reactionary after all of this calm chatter.

Joe was called next.

As he’d been instructed, he remained calm and gave a very unemotional account of the events of both the day of the arrival of the photo of Connie and the arrival of Phil. Bill was shocked by how clinical it all sounded, but so was Joe. The problem was, Wexler kept asking the questions in such a dry, legalese style that there was no opportunity to really explain why they had gotten upset.

Heather asked a few clarifying questions, but that’s all.

When Wexler went to move on, Joe asked if he could just explain a few things more clearly, but the judge said, “Thank you, Mr Brooks. That will be all.”

“Mr. Fuller,” Mr Wexler began. Calling witnesses in this hearing format was purely a procedural thing. No one moved from their seat. It was merely a way of indicating that the questions were currently being directed towards that person. Bill sat up straighter.

Wexler continued. “When Mr Crenshaw made crass remarks about your friend, Connie Miller, do you think that your reaction to those remarks were appropriate?”

“Entirely,” Bill said, with a bit of intensity.

“And then again, when Mr Crenshaw was rude to Phil Stratton, you felt your reaction and the reaction of Mr Brooks were appropriate?”

“Again,” Bill nodded, “Entirely. In fact, we probably should have done more that morning.”

“Did you threaten any harm to Mr Crenshaw? Either any harm at that time or to be meted out later?”

“No.”

“Bull,” Crenshaw mumbled.

“That’s enough,” the judge said without looking up.

“Earlier, when Mr Crenshaw was provoking you…”

“Your Honor,” Heather interrupted, “Mr Wexler is insinuating that he has knowledge as to my client’s motives for saying what he said that Mr Wexler could not possibly have.”

“I agree. Mr Wexler, please stick to the facts.”

Wexler regrouped. “When Mr Crenshaw, earlier, spoke of you having sexual relations with Connor Miller, he had no way of knowing whether that was true or not, correct?”

“It was not true,” Bill said, and he should have stopped, but he continued, “it has never been true, and the fact that he was allowed to say such a disgusting thing without consequence speaks volumes to the ineffectiveness of this hearing.”

The judge sighed. “Mr Fuller, I thought we were clear on the need to refrain from editorializing during this procedure.”

Bill shook his head in frustration.

“May I ask a question, your honor?” Heather interjected.

“Yes.” The judge said, sounding fed up.

“Mr Fuller, you said that what Mr Crenshaw said was ‘disgusting.’ Is that because you find trans-people disgusting?”

“Don”t be an idiot,” Bill scoffed.

“That’s not a ‘no,’ Mr Fuller.”

Bill huffed, keeping his frustration in check. “No, Ms Bentley, I do not find trans-people disgusting. What I do find… frustrating and disgusting is the insinuation that I would have a sexual encounter with someone I consider to be my sibling, Ms Bentley. I would no more consider having sexual relations with Connie than I would with Mary, or Toni, or Joe, because unlike you, Ms Bentley, I was not blessed with siblings in the traditional sense. I was an only child with an overworked and exhausted single mother, as were Joe, and Toni, and Mary, and my beautiful wife. Our mothers were hardly ever home and when they were they were too tired to give us any attention, but we all found each other and we found Connie, whose ungrateful sister never appreciated the incredible gift that he is. We formed our own family, Ms Bentley. Mr Crenshaw’s crass, disgusting remarks today and on previous occasions insult and sully my family in ways that he and you will never understand.”

“Enough, Mr Fuller,” the judge said, sounding exhausted. “Any further questions, Mr Wexler?”

Wexler seemed at a loss as to how to gain any points here. “No, Your Honor,” he finally conceded. He looked frustrated, maybe even defeated.

Bill was also frustrated. He whispered to Joe. “So, what? That’s it? We either have to work with those assholes, or we have to leave and find jobs somewhere off the Cape?”

Joe, also unhappy, shrugged.

“Face it, boys,” Crenshaw said, loudly and with a nasty smugness, “you’ve lost.”

“Quiet, Mr Crenshaw,” the judge said.

“I know you’re into these freaks, but when the entire force of the United State Government says that they need to be locked up or sterilized or eliminated, then you’ve definitely backed the wrong horse.”

“Enough, Mr Crenshaw!” The judge said more forcefully.

“What did you say?” Heather said, somewhat quietly and sounding like she was caught off guard.

“Are you asking your client a question, Ms Bentley?” The Judge asked.

“Yes, Your Honor.”

The judge shook his head. “You may answer, Mr Crenshaw.”

Crenshaw smiled broadly, thrilled to have the floor. “Well, it’s like Marjorie Taylor Greene, or  Nancy Mace, or Donald Trump Jr, or even Glenn Beck say – these people, these… trannys… are unbalanced. They shoot themselves up with all kinds of drugs and they can’t even think straight. Every single mass shooting in this country from Columbine to the latest school or church shooting was perpetrated by a tranny…”

“What the hell is going on over there?” Toni whispered to Mary and Amy.

“I’ve heard this kind of BS before,” Mary whispered back, “but come on!”

“…they mess up their brains with this crap and they crave attention, so they go off and just start shooting at normal people because they feel persecuted by normal people, or something like that.”

“This is ridiculous!” Bill said to Wexler.

“Are you just going to let this go on forever?” Joe added.

“Your Honor,” Wexler said to the judge, “are you going to allow this to continue?”

“Ms Bentley, are you going to take your client in hand, or should I?” The judge asked Heather.

Heather’s face was ashen when she looked at the judge. “A moment longer, please, Your Honor.” She looked at Crenshaw. “So, in short, you may have been a little crass towards Phil Stratton and Connor Miller, and maybe even towards Bill Fuller and Joe Brooks, but you feel that your actions are justified due to the actions of the leadership of our nation – i.e. commentators like Glenn Beck, elected leaders like Marjorie Taylor Greene, Nancy Mace and the son of The President of The United States. Is that correct?”

Crenshaw pondered that for a moment, then bobbed his head for a moment. “Yeah. I guess that’s right. I mean… they’ll be locking those freaks up soon, right? Maybe even euthanizing them. So, what difference does it make?”

“I think that’s enough,” the judge said flatly. “Mr Wexler, anything further?”

“No, Your Honor.”

“Ms Bentley, I assume you’re through.”

“No, Your Honor,” Heather said, causing the judge’s face to redden.

“What further information could your clients possibly have to offer, Ms Bentley?”

“May I have a moment to speak to someone in private?” Heather asked.

The judge looked at the clock on the wall and groaned. It was late. Later than he’d expected this hearing to last. “Is this person available, Ms Bentley?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“You have three minutes.”

Heather rose and headed into the gallery, towards the exit. “Connor, can I speak to you in the hallway.”

Almost in perfect unison, Toni, Bill and Joe stood and shouted, “No!”

Half a moment later, Connor stood and held up a hand. “I’ll be fine,” he assured everyone, and he followed his half-sister through the doors.

Two minutes and forty-three seconds later they re-entered the courtroom and Heather provided Connor with a chair at the table inside the bar.

“Your Honor,” Heather said, “this is Connor Miller, the person at the center of the first altercation between Mr Crenshaw, Mr Fuller and Mr Brooks.”

The judge looked at Connor with some skepticism. “Is there a reason that I should be hearing from Ms Miller this late in our proceedings, Ms Bentley?” He glanced at Connor. “It is ‘Ms’ Miller, is it not?”

“I’m fine with anything, Your Honor,” Connor said, and the judge was a bit surprised to hear no sign of any male quality in his voice.

The judge nodded.

“Your Honor,” Heather began, “Mr Stratton takes no drugs or hormones to maintain their male persona, isn’t that so, Mr Stratton?”

Phil seemed surprised, not only to be asked this question out of the blue, but because up to that point in the proceedings Heather had gone out of her way to misgender them at every opportunity. “Umm… No… I mean… yes… that is correct. I do not take any hormones.”

“And Ms Miller, you also take no drugs or hormones designed to encourage secondary sexual characteristics to be altered, is that correct?”

Connor was a bit surprised that his sister had called him ‘Ms.’ He shook his head.

“Ms Bentley,” the judge interrupted, “might I remind you that you represent the interests of ‘Alan Crenshaw et Al’ in this matter?”

“I am aware of that, Your Honor.”

“Just making sure. Continue.”

“Mr Stratton, do you plan to follow through and have sexual reassignment surgery at some point in your life?” Heather moved on.

“You don’t have to answer that,” Wexler said, just as confused as the judge.

“It’s ok,” Phil said. “Yes, I do, and I am currently working with a councilor as I move towards that goal.”

“I see.” Heather nodded. “That will involve a great deal of hard work and sacrifice on your part, will it not?”

“Yes.”

“And have you discussed with your therapist how the drugs and hormones you will take will impact your personality?”

“I have.”

“And are you concerned that they will make you a mass shooter?”

“Your Honor!” Wexler shouted!

The judged held up his hand for Wexler to wait.

“No,” Phil chuckled. “That’s just right-wing propaganda. It’s hate-mongering. That’s all.”

Heather nodded but acted as if there could be more to it. Then she looked at Connor.

“Ms Miller…” she looked at him for a long moment.

“Do you have a question for Ms Miller?” The judge asked.

“I do,” Heather said. Another moment passed. “May I call you Connie?”

Connor smiled. “Of course.”

“Connie… are you planning to eventually become a woman.”

“No, I am not.”

“Then… why… why all of this, then?”

Connor gathered his thoughts for just a second. “When I look like this… I feel… whole. I feel… right. I feel like everyone who sees me sees… ME. The real me. The me I was meant to be.”

“But you look like a woman. A… a very beautiful woman.”

Connor looked at Heather and noticed a softness in her he’d never seen before. “Thank you.”

“So, you think you were meant to be a woman?”

“No. Not at all. I was meant to be me. Exactly who I am. It just took me more than twenty years to figure out who that was.”

Heather was quiet for a moment, then looked at Crenshaw and said, “How have these two people offended you?”

Crenshaw scoffed. “Their very existence offends me.”

Heather nodded, then looked at the judge. “Your Honor, I regret that I have wasted the court’s time today, but I am afraid I can no longer represent my clients in this matter.”

“What?” Crenshaw et al shouted in unison.

The judge pulled his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I will see the lawyers in my chambers. Everyone else is free to go. Thank you.”

“Wait!” Crenshaw shouted. “What’s your decision?”

“I will not be making a decision at this time, Mr Crenshaw. All parties will be notified either through their attorneys or my office as to what the next steps will be.”

“This is bullshit!” Crenshaw yelled and slammed the desk.

“Mr Crenshaw, I have had just about enough of you today. This is still my courtroom, and I still expect a certain amount of decorum to be maintained…”

“Yeah, well fuck your decorum…” Crenshaw began to spit towards the judge when the court officer who’d been sitting quietly to the side of the room the entire day grabbed his arm and clapped a set of handcuffs onto him. “What the…”

“Mr Crenshaw,” the judge said, gathering his things, “you are in contempt of my court. You can spend the night in a cell here. Tomorrow is Wednesday. No court is in session due to the Thanksgiving holiday on Thursday. I will come in around noon. If you are ready to apologize at that time and I am feeling magnanimous, I may dismiss the contempt charge and let you leave. If you are still rude and obnoxious, be prepared to spend Thanksgiving in jail this year. I am told the turkey sandwiches on white bread are delicious. That is all. Thank you, Stanley.”

Stanley, the court officer, escorted a very confused Alan Crenshaw from the courtroom.

“Mr Wexler, Ms Bentley – my chambers. The rest of you are free to go. Thank you.”
 

 
“Oh, come on,” Bill shouted at the screen. “That was interference, plain and simple.”

“Relax,” Toni laughed, sipping her beer. “It’s just a game, Bill. I would have thought that you got all your aggression out in the hearing the other day.”

Joe chuckled at that. “He’s probably still fuming over that. God knows I am.”

Out in the kitchen, the sound of plates and pots and pans moving around could be heard. The occasional ‘ok, Connie,’ from Amy and Mary was also occasionally heard. This apartment, the one that Connie and Toni shared, was larger than either Bill and Amy’s house, or Joe and Mary’s apartment, and since it was in a building that was more than a century old, the sound was much better separated from room to room. It was the obvious location for all of them to gather for Thanksgiving.

“So,” Toni asked, “what’s going to happen with that whole situation, now?”

Joe shrugged. “According to Jean in our HR Department, it’s probably over because of the things that Crenshaw said in the hearing, but like they say, ‘it ain’t over till it’s over.’ So, we’ll have to wait and see.”

“I gotta say, Amy is relieved,” Bill said. “She was so stressed that she might actually have to have this baby, which I am not supposed to be talking about until she sees an OBGYN, without Mary and Connie by her side through the whole process.”

“Aren’t you relieved too?” Toni asked.

“Yeah, of course,” Bill laughed. “But as we all know, keeping the wife happy is job number one, right?”

Joe laughed and shook his head. “I notice that you only ever refer to Amy as ‘the wife’ when she’s not around.”

“Darned tootin’” Bill said. “I’m crazy, not insane.”

“Or vise-versa,” Toni teased. Just then the doorbell rang. “That must be Don and his wife,” she said.

“Who’s Don?” Bill asked.

“I work with him. They had no where to go, so I invited them here.”

“Cool.”

Toni opened the door to the stairwell and went down to open the door. “Happy Thanksgiving!” She greeted her guests.

“Hey!” Don said, his usual greeting. Then he leaned forward to offer an awkward kiss on Toni’s cheek. As working buddies, they usually only fist-bumped on occasion, and he wasn’t quite sure how to move their relationship to Toni’s home – and on a holiday no less.

Toni accepted the kiss with a smile and a slight chuckle.

“Toni,” Don smiled, “this is my wife, Addy. Addy, this is Toni.”

Addy smiled and gave Toni a much less self-conscious peck on the cheek. “It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Addy said. “Don talks about you constantly. It’s nice to put a face to the name.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you, too,” Toni smiled. “Come on up and meet everyone.”

“I brought a cranberry bread and some cream cheese for dessert,” Addy said as they climbed the stairs.

“Oh, that sounds delicious,” Toni said, reasonably sure that was one of the few desserts that Connie had not prepared.

As they entered the apartment, Toni introduced the newcomers to everyone, both in the living room and the kitchen. Addy chose to stay in the kitchen with the girls to help. Toni grabbed a beer for Don and they headed to the living room and the football game.

“I think your neighbor may be having car trouble,” Don said just before they sat.

“My neighbor?” All of their neighbors were seasonal, and they were all gone now.

“Yeah. She’s down there in the parking area leaning on her car and she looks upset.”

“Huh.”

Don sat and Toni peeked out the window. “I’ll be right back,” she said, heading down the stairs.

She walked out into the parking lot, putting her hands in the pockets of her jeans, partially because it was chilly, and partially because she was a bit nervous about how to proceed.

She walked up to the passenger side of the BMW. The woman was leaning on the front, driver’s side fender, her back to the house. Toni cleared her throat, then said, “Heather?”

The woman turned. She did look very upset. “Oh. Hi… umm… Antoinette, right?”

“Toni. Yeah.” She waited a moment. “You ok?”

Heather shrugged. “I should probably go.” She reached for the handle of her door.

“Why did you come?”

Heather breathed deeply then sighed. “I… I don’t know. I guess… I guess I just thought that I owed Connor an explanation of some kind and… I guess today just seemed like the right day to do it, but…” She stood straighter and stifled back any emotion she felt; once again the strong, professional lawyer. “You have guests, so… I’ll be going.”

Before she was even aware of what she was thinking, Toni said, “No. you should come in.”

Heather looked surprised. “You have guests…”

“Yeah, and you’ve spent time with most of them this week, but… it is Thanksgiving and… if there’s one thing that Connie has always wanted, it’s to reconcile whatever it is that is keeping you two apart. So… if this is the time to do that, come on in.”

Heather nodded and followed Toni in the door and up the stairs. As they entered the apartment, Bill, Joe and Don were leaping to their feet screaming ‘yeah!’ or some variation of that because The New England Patriots had just done something right.

Bill saw Toni and said, “Aw, man, you missed it. The Pats just ran it in from thirty yards out and got the extra point! They’re up by…”

He and Bill both grew silent at the sight of Heather entering the apartment.

“Bill, Joe, you know Heather. Heather this is my friend Don. Don this is Connie’s half-sister, Heather.”

“Nice to meet you,” Don said, offering a nod from across the room.

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew her,” Bill muttered.

“Knock it off,” Joe whispered, rather sternly, while maintaining a forced smile. “Remember you’re a guest here.”

Bill grunted and sat. Joe and Don joined him.

Toni led Heather into the spare half-bedroom which doubled as Connie’s office and left her. A moment later she returned with Connie who entered the room with a smile that disappeared the moment he saw Heather looking out the window. He was wearing a turkey themed, full-length apron covering a lovely, deep-blue, long-puffy-sleeved dress that hugged his upper body nicely before flaring out in a pretty, knee-length skirt.

“Hi,” he said in a quiet, confused voice.

“Hi,” Heather said, matching his tone.

“Listen,” Toni said, feeling like a third wheel, “I’ll take your apron and leave you two alone to talk. Ok?”

Connie removed the apron and handed it to her, nodding. “Oh, tell Mary to put the rolls in the oven for fifteen minutes. They’re all set to go in. Other than that, everything should just be either in their covered dishes, on the warming tray or on low heat. I’ll carve and plate the turkey when I come out.”

“Ok.” She left and closed the door behind her.

After a long, uncomfortable silence, Connie said, “Happy Thanksgiving.”

A smile appeared on Heather’s face, then quickly vanished. “Happy Thanksgiving, Connie. Look… I know I’m intruding, so I’ll be quick. I… I just want to… explain a few things about what happened the other day.” She stopped and looked at him and for a second or two the hassled, rushed persona disappeared. “You really do look beautiful, by the way.”

Caught off guard, Connie looked down at his dress and back at his half-sister. “Thank you.”

“I mean it, Connie. You look truly lovely.” She took him in a bit longer. “Once again, I can’t get over how much like mom you look this way.”

He smiled.

“Look, Connie… I’m a lawyer and I have to take the cases that come my way.”

“I know.” He sighed. He’d heard this before and didn’t think it was a legitimate reason for taking Crenshaw and the rest on as clients, but it was Thanksgiving Day and Heather seemed to be making an effort. So…

She continued.

“But… as much as I was willing to agree that boys were boys and girls were girls and that blurring the lines was wrong, and that I thought that the new administration was headed in the right direction making it all illegal… I guess I never really gave it all that much thought. This whole case with Crenshaw… I guess you figured out that I thought of it as a way of waking you up and seeing things the way that I did. I figured that if I shook up your friends, that would shake you up and you’d put all of this behind you, but…”

She looked out the window and thought for a moment. She tried to gather her thoughts, but what she wanted to say seemed too huge to put into words.

“You can just see the bay from here,” she finally said, absently.

“Only when the trees are dormant and there are no leaves to block the view,” Connie said.

Heather let out a small, sad laugh. “You only see the beauty of the bay when the trees are at their ugliest.”

She looked at Connie.

“Connie… I had no idea how ugly things had become for people like you and Phil. All that hate that came out of Crenshaw at the hearing… I suddenly realized that I’d been hearing that everyday on talk shows, from politicians and seeing it on social media and never really giving it a thought – or realizing that they were talking about real people. People with families and friends who loved them. People like my little brother, Connie. People like you.”

When she looked at her brother, her eyes were glistening.

“And Connie… when I heard him saying all those horrible things about you… about everyone who lives a little differently than the mainstream. I realized…” she choked back some emotion. “… I realized how much I truly cared about you, Connie, and what a shitty, shitty sister I’d been to you since the day that you were born.”

Connie wanted to run to her and hug her, but he was so stunned that he was frozen in place.

She sniffled just a bit and regained her control, a habit she’d developed from a lifetime of hiding her emotions. “So,” she took another deep breath, “I… I came here today to say…” another breath, “I’m sorry, Connie, and I’m hoping that we might be able to… I don’t know… develop a better relationship as we mo-o-ve…”

Her last word was distorted and her sentence cut off by the force of her brother’s embrace. It half knocked the wind out of her.

“I love you, Heather,” he said.

Slowly, unsurely, she wrapped her arms around his tiny shoulders. “I love you, too, Connie. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry for being a rotten sister when you were little, when mom died, when you needed help getting started in the world, for beating up on your friends the way I did… I’m just sorry for everything. I’m just a lousy person. That’s probably why I’m a good lawyer.”

Connie stepped back. “Are you still a lawyer? I mean after the other day… will they disbar you?”

Heather shrugged. “I doubt it. I’ll probably be censured and fined, and my reputation will take a hit, but I’m still glad I did what I did.”

“I am too.” Connie wiped the moist areas under his eyes. “You’re staying for dinner, right?”

Heather laughed. “I don’t think your REAL family would like that very much.”

“Of course they would. They’d be thrilled to have you join us.”

“Oh, yeah?” She laughed. “Why would they be happy to sit down to dinner with me?”

“Because they love me, Heather, and I love you. They know that there is nothing more important to my than having my whole family together.”

“But I put them through hell this week.”

“And they will understand… because they love me.”

“But…”

“Please.”

Heather finally relaxed a bit – possibly for the first time in decades. “Ok.”

“Come on,” he took her hand in his. “I’d better get back into the kitchen before Amy and Mary burn my dinner.”

They stepped out into the living room.

“Hey, guys,” Connie said to everyone in there. “Heather and I just spoke and I think we… I think we healed a lot of wounds. She’s going to join us for dinner if that’s ok with you.”

Toni looked at Bill and Joe who looked at each other before shrugging uncertainly. “Sure, I guess,” Bill said.

“Welcome to the family,” Joe said, toasting with his Sam Adams beer bottle.

Toni smiled and Don looked around and shrugged. 

A similar speech and acceptance occurred in the kitchen.

As Connie put his apron back on, Heather asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Can you cook?” Connie asked.

“Not at all.”

He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of beer, handing it to her. “Go watch the game. Dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes.”

Dinner was amazing. The turkey was moist, and the stuffing was seasoned perfectly. Conversation was loud and happy. Don and Addy were regaled with stories about Bill, Joe, Mary, Amy, Toni and Connie as children and teens and young adults and adults, and laughs were constant.

Heather took it all in and smiled at the happy lives all around her. Just days ago, she’d tried to upset those lives just to prove a point. What kind of a person had she become? Looking back at her behavior not just towards Connor, but towards all of these people, she realized that she had never really considered the impact of her prejudices and actions. All this joy that surrounded her at that moment could have been destroyed just to make point – just to win a case – just to prove she was right – and… in fact… she’d been wrong… horribly wrong.

They cleared the dishes, sipped cranberry wine, then, when the main course had settled, ate so much dessert their bellies ached. Apple pie, pumpkin pie, cranberry bread, banana bread, snickerdoodles, toll house cookies, cheesecake and ice cream. They could hardly move by the time they were done.

Somehow, as the evening wore on, Bill found himself sitting next to Heather. “You’ve really missed out, you know,” he said quietly. “Connie is the best person I’ve ever met. He’s smart, talented, kind, thoughtful, as sweet as can be… I’ve been lucky enough to call him part of my family my whole life. I don’t care if he’s my brother or my sister, he’s one of the best things in my life. You could have had that too.”

Heather nodded. “I know. I’m hoping I can have it now.”

Bill nodded. “Now’s your chance.” He leaned in closer. “We, the six of us, are broken, Heather, but together we heal each other and we protect each other. That’s how families work, you know. That’s how love works. You’ve broken him before. If you want Connie in your life, then you have to be gentle with him. He’s been patient. Respect that, ok?”

Heather looked at her tiny, beautiful brother, then at her brother’s handsome, rugged found-brother and said, “Thank you. I will.”

She thought for a moment. “I heard you and your wife are expecting.”

“We hope so,” he smiled. “The store-bought tests say we are. We’ll find out for sure when she sees a doctor.”

Heather nodded. “So, when the baby is born… will Connie be a part of his or her life?”

“Of course,” Bill laughed. “Why wouldn’t he be?”

“Well… you know… because…”

“Because he’s different?” Bill smirked and shook his head. “Heather… Connie is my brother… or my sister… whatever… and if we have a child, then Connie will be the best aunt or uncle we could possibly ask for. See… all you look at is how different people are. You need to start looking at how wonderful people can be.”

She nodded. He was probably right.

Just then, Connie came and sat on the other side of his sister. “Did you have a good day?” He asked.

“Very nice,” she admitted.

Connie took her hand. “Thank you for saying all those things you said. It really means a lot to me.”

Heather gave him a sad smile. “It doesn’t make up for the years of…”

He interrupted her. “Yes it does, Heather. It makes up for everything.”

He smiled and looked down at her hand in his. “It’s nice to finally have my sister.”

Heather looked around the room. “You already have two wonderful sisters, Connie.”

“And now I have three,” he said with a smile. “Welcome to the family.”
 
 
The End... for now!