Found Family: Chapter 3 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 everything is going fine for all of you? Everything is going great for me right now. Connie is travelling into uncharted waters and I am turning up the suspense. Again, let me know how I am doing and drop me a comment. Please! ~Clara.

Image Credit: https://perchance.org/beautiful-people
 
 
Chapter 3
“Family not only need to consist of merely those whom we share blood, but also for those whom we'd give blood.” ~ Charles Dickens
 
 
“Alan Crenshaw!?” Connor said in disbelief. “What the heck does Alan Crenshaw have against me? I haven’t laid eyes on him since high school graduation. I wouldn’t know him now if I tripped over him.” They were all back at Amy and Bill’s place after fleeing The Skipper Pub.

“He’s always been a prick,” Amy said. “He just sees a chance to cause trouble and is doing his best to upset anyone he can.”

“No, this has more to do with what happened at work than Connie,” Bill assured everyone. “It’ll blow over.”

Toni nodded her head. “Alright. So… this guy is an asshole and he’s ticked off at you guys and he’s going after Connie as a means if hurting you. Is that a reasonable summary?”

“Sounds right,” Bill said, looking to Joe for support.

“I think you hit the nail on the head,” Joe agreed. “He won’t bother Connie unless there’s a way of bugging us as well.”

“So, he’s not going to show up at our place with a gun, or a bat, or anything, then?” Toni asked, rather angry at the whole situation.

“I don’t think so,” Joe said and Bill agreed.

“Good,” Toni said, grabbing her jacket. “I think we need to get home, now. I have to cool off and try to get some sleep.”

They all said their goodbyes and Toni and Connor headed home.

In the darkness of the car, Toni let out a long, deep sigh to try to release the anger she was feeling. “Look, Connie,” she finally said, “if you don’t want to deal with all of this, you don’t have to. I mean, if people are going to attack you for dressing like this… well… maybe it’s just not safe.”

Connor looked out the window at the marsh they were passing before he spoke. “Is that what you want me to do?”

“What I want? Connie… I love how you look right now, but… in today’s climate, with so much mindless hatred around… maybe it’s just safer to… you know… conform.”

“Be ‘normal’ you mean?”

“I guess.”

It was Connor’s turn to sigh then. “Toni… I know how weird this is going to sound, but… yesterday, when I first saw myself in the mirror in Mary’s bedroom… you know, wearing women’s clothes for the first time… well… that was probably the first time I ever felt ‘normal’ in my whole life. It was like… like… when I saw myself in this form… something inside of me said ‘There I am. For the first time in my life, there I am.’”

Toni didn’t know what to say, so she just drove for a few moments before asking, “So, does that mean you want to, you know, become an actual woman? Like… the surgery and all that?”

Connor could hear some fear in her voice. “No,” he said after a pause. “I don’t think so. I think I just want to be… me. I don’t understand why that would upset anyone, or why it’s even anyone else’s business. I mean, I see people dressed in all kinds of clothes all the time, and sometimes I don’t think they’ve made great clothing decisions, but I don’t comment on that. I don’t hate them because of it. I just want to live my life the way I want to live it – just like everyone else.”

Toni reached over and squeezed his hand. “I know, babe. I know.”
 

 
It had been a week since the encounter with Crenshaw at the restaurant and nothing more than some stink-eye looks from him around the office had occurred. Bill and Joe had noticed, however, that Crenshaw had begun hanging with a small, but vocal, group of older employees who were very outspoken about their right-wing political views.

Joe thought they were ok guys who just had different views from him, and that was fine. They did live in a democracy, after all, and differences of opinions were always happening.

 Bill didn’t like these guys at at all though. He viewed them as bullies who loved to be provocateurs by stating the most ludicrous ideals of the right-wing radio and podcast hosts as undeniable truths and loved it when they could use the idiotic double-speak of the extreme to piss off nearly anyone within earshot.

Both were right. They were bullies and provocateurs, but they may have just been decent guys with fiscally conservative views at another time in history. Now, they felt empowered to spew hateful rhetoric that they knew was nonsense because much of the rest of the country was spewing the same hate.

As they pulled into the parking lot of Capewinds Concepts that Monday morning, Joe pulled his Kia into a space behind Crenshaw’s shockingly bright orange 1968 Dodge Charger. ‘Just like the one in the greatest chase scene of all time!’ Crenshaw loved to tell people, referring to the chase in the movie ‘Bullitt,’ but Bill and Joe, both huge movie fans, assumed that Crenshaw had never seen the film for several reasons:

1)        Because he never used the film’s title

2)        Because when Alan inherited the car, when they were all seniors in high school, and his unmarried uncle had died suddenly and without a will, thus allowing Crenshaw’s mother to gift this beast of a machine to her son. It had been a tasteful black car, just like the one in the film, but Crenshaw had almost immediately painted it this eye numbing orange color with a foolish looking racing stripe along each side.

3)        Because he didn’t seem to understand that the hero of that film, Steve McQueen, had driven a highland green 1968 Mustang GT, something most car and film lovers knew. In the film, Bullitt’s car swerved to a stop on the road’s shoulder at the end of the chase, while the Cougar crashed into a gas station and disappeared into an explosion of flame.

4)        Lastly, because he didn’t seem to really love the classic vehicle. He loved the attention it garnered, but the car leaked oil – not a lot on a daily basis, but enough to be noticeable where it parked everyday. It once sported a rejection sticker from the state yearly inspection report for nearly four months. The tires were always bald because he loved to peal-out and leave rubber on the asphalt, and there was always trash on the passenger and rear seats of his vehicle.

That morning, as they slowed to a stop, Bill let out a disgusted sigh. “Look at the back of Crenshaw’s car,” he said.

Joe looked and shook his head. “What a jerk.”

On the rear bumper of the Cougar were three new bumper sticks:

A Confederate States of America battle flag sticker, a sticker stating, ‘Do Away With Pride Month’ and another with the legend ‘I Identify as Ultra MAGA.’

“Jackass,” Joe muttered, shaking his head, but taking it in stride.

“Proclaiming his hatred of anyone different than him all at the same time,” Bill said. Unexpectedly, he the shouted, “Goddamnit I am sick to death of him and his pettiness.”

‘Relax,” Joe said, used to these kinds of outbursts from his best friend. Bill was as levelheaded as anyone as a rule, but he hated people who just punched down – particularly when the person being punched down upon was Connie. Bill and Connor and Joe had all been friends as long as they could remember, but when puberty left Connie out of the typical boy-to-man process, Bill had become Connie’s greatest defender. No one messed with Connie in high school because Bill was never far away. Only one or two fights ever developed, but Bill won those handily and Joe jumped in if needed.

“He just gets right under my skin,” Bill said, opening his door. “I’d like to tear that bumper right off of that ugly tangerine and throw it in the canal.”

“Come on,” Joe said. “It’s Monday. We have a meeting and you always like the breakfast spread. Focus on the positive. Let’s go.”

They dropped their briefcases at their desks, picked up some coffee, fruit and bagels and went into the meeting room for their Monday update. As always, it was a pleasant way to start the workweek.

The usual reports were presented – financials, growth, project deadlines achieved, or missed, or being developed, etc.

After a few team-building exercises, always fun, Jean Crowley from the HR department took the podium. “Good morning,” she smiled. “We have a couple of new team members I’d like to introduce and welcome to our work family. First,” she glanced at her papers, “Ken Grossman, would you come up and say hello?”

They’d all been though this rather embarrassing first Monday morning ritual and they knew how nerve racking it could be for the new person, so everyone was usually supportive.

Ken Grossman, a tall, handsome man, probably in his late forties, with salt and pepper, short-cropped hair came up and took the microphone.

“Hi, I’m Ken,” he said, surprised by the volume of his voice in the PA system. “This is my first day here. I’ll be working with the other members of the project-development team. I just moved to Massachusetts from a small town in upstate New York on the shores of Lake Erie and it typically gets about a hundred inches of snow every winter, so I’m looking forward to a lot less white stuff this year.”

That made everyone chuckle a bit.

Jean returned to the podium. “And also, Phyllis Stratton who will be joining our payroll office. Come on up, Phyllis.”

More polite applause as a very short, bespectacled person took the stage. Phyllis could not have been a quarter of an inch taller than five feet tall, if that tall, and there was nothing about this person to indicate that they were female. They wore a boys’ button up shirt with a striped tie, beige pants a men’s oxford style shoes.

“Hi, I’m Phil,” Phyllis began, “and my pronouns are they/them…”

Phil went on, but there was a murmuring from across the room, from the area occupied by Crenshaw and his new cronies.

“Here we go…” one of them, Bill was pretty sure it was Crenshaw, said a bit too loudly, prompting chuckles from the others.

“…from my previous company in Cincinnati,” Phil continued, trying not to acknowledge the bustle from the right side of the room. “I’ve always wanted to visit Cape Cod, and now, to have the opportunity to live here… well, I’m just very grateful for this opportunity…”

It was clear that Jean Crowley from HR and several other upper-level execs also heard the row coming from Crenshaw and his group. Jean Crowley rose and looked in their direction, but the chatter continued. Finally, she excused herself as she interrupted Phil at the microphone.

“I’m sorry,” she said, addressing everyone, “but is there a problem over there?”

“Uh oh,” Joe whispered. “This isn’t going to go well.”

“Nope,” Bill agreed.

“No problem,” one of the men in the group said, but his smirk indicated that something was very funny.

“Then, can we show our new colleague some respect and manners, please?” She started to step aside, but Crenshaw stopped her.

“Excuse me, Ms Crowley,” Crenshaw said with a bravado that indicated he had the support of everyone in the room… he did not. “I thought that we were done with all this DEI nonsense.”

“I beg your pardon?” Jean Crowley asked, returning to the microphone.

“I mean,” he continued, “the President said it was all over. There are two sexes – end of story.” His cohorts egged him on. “If the President says there are only two sexes, then there are only two sexes.” He received grunts of support from his crew.

“Sit down and shut up, Alan,” Bill called across the room, receiving support from the majority of the room, although many were just shocked to be caught up in such an odd and potentially explosive moment.

“Calm down,” Joe said to his friend.

“Mr. Crenshaw,” Jean Crowley said, attempting to take control of the situation, “this is hardly the time or the place for this discussion, but I will take a moment to state quite clearly and succinctly that this company has always been and will always be welcoming to people of all stripes and if you wish to remain employed here, you will reflect those policies during your employment hours. Have I made myself abundantly clear?”

“No,” Crenshaw said flatly, eliciting some grunts and claps of support from his group.

“No?” Ms Crowley said, taken aback.

“No,” he said again. “This company is in The United States of America, and I choose to follow the laws of this great nation, Ms Crowley. With all due respect, your policies do not align with those laws.”

“That stinking little asswipe,” Bill mumbled, halfway to a standing position before Joe pulled him back into his seat.

“You need to sit there and be quiet,” Joe hissed at him. “He’s about to get fired. If you and your hot head get involved, you’ll be fired, too. Take your own advice and, for the time being, sit there and shut up.”

Bill shook his head but sat. “But if this goes on much longer,” he warned, “I’m going to punch that little weasel from here to Hell and back again.”

Joe just shook his head.

Suddenly, a deep voice came through the microphone. “Mr Crenshaw,” said the president and CEO of the company, “I believe that we have all heard quite enough from you. Please meet me in my office in two minutes.”

“Again, with all due respect, sir…”

“MY OFFICE. TWO MINUTES,” the poised and quiet executive stated then he punctuated his demand by slamming his fist onto the top of the podium. “This meeting is adjourned.” He turned to Jean Crowley and said something into her ear. She nodded and pulled out her phone.

By the time Bill and Joe had exited the meeting hall, two uniformed policemen were entering the lobby. Ms Crowley met them and led them towards the CEO’s office.

“Looks like Crenshaw really put his foot in in this time,” Joe said, sounding a bit pleased.

“They’re arresting him?” Bill asked, surprised, but also pleased.

“I doubt it,” Joe said. “I bet they’re firing him, though, and they called for the cops to be sure he leaves without any problems.” He turned to Bill and winked. “At least he won’t be our problem anymore.”

“As long as he’s still around, he’s our problem,” Bill said shaking his head.
 

 
“The office of H. Eleanore Bentley, attorney at law,” Julia, Heather’s secretary, said into the handheld phone receiver, with the polished delivery that Heather demanded of anyone answering the phone for her office. She listened for a moment as a young, smartly put together woman carrying a cardboard file box entered the lobby. “I’m sorry,” Julia said, “but Ms Bentley is with a client at the moment.” She listened some more and typed on her computer keyboard in sporadic bursts until she finally said. “Thank you. I will make sure that Ms Bentley gets the message. Have a nice day. Goodbye.” She placed the phone’s receiver back in its cradle and looked at the young woman waiting at the desk. “May I help you?” She reached for a ‘new client’ questionnaire.

“Hi, Julia. It’s me,” said the attractive young woman.

It took Julia a moment to connect the voice to the immaculately made-up face. Then it dawned on her. “Connie? Connie, is that really you?”

Connor blushed just a little as he nodded, not sure if her shock was a good thing or a bad.

“My God,” Julia gushed, “Heather said you were… well, you know… but I had no idea you looked this good! Connie! You look lovely!”

“Thanks,” Connor said, a little embarrassed by the amount of praise. “So do you,” he said honestly. He’d always admired how Julia dressed. Very professional, but very sexy – in a professional way – as well.

“Why, thank you,” she smiled, pleased to get a compliment in return.

“I brought these files back,” Connor said, lifting the box to the counter. “There’s a report attached to each one with the information Heather requested.” He placed the box and picked up a file to indicate to Julia how he’d attached the reports. “I printed the reports on cream colored paper so they would stand apart from the files.”

Julia smiled and took the box, placing it behind the counter. “You’re amazing,” she smiled. “That would have taken me a month to do and Heather wouldn’t have been satisfied with what I found. You’re the best, Connie.”

“Thanks,” he said, again. “So… Heather’s with someone?”

Julia glanced at the door to her boss’ office and nodded. “Yes. They just went in about ten minutes ago. It’s an hour-long appointment, so she’ll probably be a while, but if you want to wait…”

“No,” Connor said, a little disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to speak to his sister – well, half-sister. “That’s ok. Just tell her I dropped that work off.”

“Will do,” Julia smiled and they said their goodbyes.

As Connor reached the door, he turned and said, “Umm… Julia… I hope this isn’t weird or anything, but… where do you buy your clothes?”

“My clothes?”

“Yeah,” Connor said, coming back to the counter. “I mean… you always look so nice and all, so I was just wondering…”

“You like the way I dress?” Julia asked, suddenly sounding delighted.

“Well, yeah,” Connor nodded. “I always have. You always look great.”

“Well,” Julia grabbed a piece of scrap paper and a pen, suddenly very happy, “I usually order from three different online stores. Let me write them down for you.”
 

 
“I’m not sure how I feel about this,” Mary said as they headed to the restaurant on Friday evening. Amy and Bill were traveling with Mary and Joe en route to The Hearth and Kettle Restaurant where they were going to meet Toni and Connor to have dinner before heading to an acoustic concert by one of Mary’s favorite singers at a church which had been converted into a performance space, in Osterville.

The last two weeks had gone by without any further upset. Connor was diligent in his goal to learn all that he could about feminine beauty – clothes, jewelry, makeup, shoes, purses, soaps, shampoos, conditioners, scents, etc. He asked Mary to allow him to do his own hair and makeup for a bit so he could improve.

And he did. Everyday his hand grew steadier, and his skill improved.

Now he was confident that he could do his own hair and makeup and wanted to show off his handiwork at dinner.

Mary had her doubts.

Joe, who was driving, chuckled at his wife. “Admit it: You’re just upset because your baby sister is leaving the nest.”

“Oh, don’t be foolish,” Mary scoffed. “I just don’t want Connie to show up looking like a drag queen.”

“If I know Connie, and believe me, I know Connie,” Amy said, “he will have gotten a lot better at getting himself ready in the last couple of weeks than I have in the last twenty-three years.”

“That’s probably true,” Bill laughed. “Connie’s always been determined to do whatever he sets his mind to.”

“Except growing,” Joe laughed, too. “Remember when we were in eighth grade and he started using that upside down hanging machine to try to stretch out his spine? He used to hang in that thing for like two hours a night before he finally gave up and accepted that he was always going to be the smallest guy in our class.”

“Oh, stop it,” Mary scolded. “It couldn’t have been easy for him to fall behind while everyone else was having growth spurts.”

“Oh, believe me, I know it was hard for him,” Joe said, a little apologetically. “I felt terrible for him, and still do, but that and being a chef are the only two things I’ve ever seen him give up on. Meanwhile, I failed Bio and had to go to summer school. I lost my first part time job because I was always late. I failed my driving test twice. I know Connie was always jealous of Bill and me, but I always admired how persistent and driven Connie was – still is.”

The restaurant was a bit crowded. Even though it was off-season, it was still Friday night. Mary checked in with the greeter who confirmed their reservation for six people and showed them to their table, promising to bring the last members of their party to them when they arrived.

They ordered their drinks and a couple of appetizers for the table, and they all relaxed after a long work week.

Fifteen minutes went by, but Toni and Connor had not yet arrived. So, Amy sent Toni a text: WHERE ARE YOU? IS EVERYTHING OK?

Toni replied: SORRY. WE RAN LATE. MY FAULT. IN THE PARKING LOT NOW. BE IN IN A SECOND.

Moments later, Toni appeared at the table and sat, saying ‘hi,’ but not mentioning why she was alone. She looked more or less the way she always looked, in a nice pair of jeans that complemented her figure without being skin-tight and a crisply ironed, long sleeved polo shirt that was cut for a woman’s shape as well.

Even though she was dressed in her usual way, there was something different about her that neither Bill nor Joe could put their fingers on, but both Mary and Amy glanced at each other with a ‘Oh My God’ expression on their faces.

“So…” Amy finally asked, concerned. “Where’s Connie?”

“Nothing’s wrong, is there?” Bill asked, also concerned.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Toni chuckled. “She just wants to make a big entrance.” She pointed towards the entrance.

Just then, a stunning woman in a wide skirted green dress with three-quarter length sleeves turned the corner and… well, there was no other way to describe her walk… sashayed through the dinning room. Her hair flowed beautifully and her perfectly petticured feet were placed one foot in front of the other with each small and elegant step. The three-inch, strappy heels made only the slightest click on the hardwood floor. She wore a string of pearls that paired perfectly with her (actual) pearl earrings and the pearl ring she wore on her right ring finger.

 All eyes were on her as she crossed the room to the large table where Toni and her friends sat. Bill, leapt to his feet and pulled out a chair for her. When she sat, she crossed her legs at the knee, exposing her lower legs and allowing the wide skirt to fall beautifully to either side of the chair.

“Hi,” Connor smiled and his bright red lips made his straight, white teeth shine.

“‘Hi’ yourself,” Mary said sounding judgmental, but obviously impressed that her student had become so skillful since their last meeting. “Have you even logged into work this week? You look like all you’ve done is play with makeup and practice your walk in front of a mirror. You do look amazing, by the way.”

“You do,” Amy agreed, “but you’re making the rest of us look underdressed.”

“I like it,” Joe laughed. “It’s like we’re having dinner with a glamorous movie star. You know, like women dressed in the old days. Like having drinks and dinner at The Brown Derby with Lana Turner or Ginger Rogers. You look great, Connie.”

Connor smiled but maintained his practiced allure.

“Two thumbs up,” Bill said, “I do feel a bit uncomfortable thinking about how many times the three of us had to change together in gym class, though. Back then I never thought you’d ever look like this.”

“Well, I think our newest diva deserves a round of applause,” Amy said, leading them in a quick display of appreciation.

“And I think Toni deserves a round of applause, too,” Mary said, glancing at her cousin, “because unless I’m mistaken, and I’m never mistaken, my androgynous cousin is wearing an actual bra under that polo shirt of hers.”

Toni’s eyes opened wide. “I am. How could you tell.”

“Because it looks like you have wonderful female breasts under there instead of some kind of torture device designed to hide your assets.”

“Here here!” Amy said, again leading a round of applause.

“And guess who bought it for me,” Toni said with a smirk.

Mary looked at Connor, her eyes wide with astonishment.

“You guessed it,” Toni smiled. “In fact, the reason we’re late is because my very attractive fiancé insisted that I ‘put a little effort’ into my look.”

“Well, yeah,” Mary laughed. “I mean, look at Connie! She’s put so much into looking like that, the least you can do is wear a nice tee shirt bra to show off a little.”

Toni glanced at her chest and back at Mary. “What are you, a psychic or something. How did you know it was a tee shirt bra?”

“I know everything about bras,” Mary said in a playfully smug tone.

“Wait,” Bill said, looking serious. “There’s more than one kind of bra?”

“I know, right!?” Toni said. “Who would have thought! I had no idea, either. I guess all of this girly stuff happening around me is beginning to rub off on me.”

“Well, it’s about time,” Mary smiled and squeezed Toni’s hand. “I’ve been trying to get you into a nice bra since we were eleven.”

Toni laughed, only a little embarrassed.

Amy added, “And I’m pretty sure there’s lipstick on those lips, too.”

“Just a little and Connie made sure it was subtle.”

“Well, you little conniver,” Amy said, smiling at Connor. “A month or so ago, you had never worn a bra or a dress or makeup and now you’re an expert who is doling out advice to others. I am truly impressed.”

“Wait,” Joe said, sounding worried. “This doesn’t mean that Bill and I are losing our football buddy to go shopping with the girls, does it?”

“Not on your life!” Toni laughed. “This is as girly as I’ll ever get.”

Joe let out a noisy breath. “Well, that’s a relief!”

“We wouldn’t want to upset the three guys/three girls balance that we’ve worked so hard to achieve,” Bill said with a laugh.

“No way,” Toni chuckled. “Bros all the way!” She offered a fist that both men tapped with their own. Everyone laughed.

“So…?” Mary asked.

“So, what?” Connor asked in return.

“Oh, come on, Connie,” Amy laughed. “We haven’t seen you, in what, ten days? And you were wearing our old cast-offs then. Then tonight you show up looking like your about to go to the opera or something and act like it’s no big deal. Come on!”

Connor smiled, pleased by their praise. “I just started looking at different stores and found some styles I liked and started trying them out. So… do you like it?”

“No, I don’t,” Mary snapped.

“You don’t?” Connor was surprised and a little disappointed.

“Not at all,” Mary said, looking angry. “I don’t like that my little girl grew up so quickly,” she said, a little smile growing on her face, “and I really don’t like that you made an entrance so grand that my husband’s tongue is still hanging out of his mouth.”

Everyone laughed at that.

“You really did surprise me,” Joe said to Connor, then turned to his wife, “but my tongue was certainly NOT hanging out. You know that I only have eyes for you.”

“You’d better,” Mary laughed, accepting a hug from her husband.

“I just wanted to, you know, try my own hand at being… the new me,” Connor shrugged. “I figured I had to spread my wings and fly on my own at some point, and since I was starting so much later than you guys, I’d better do it pretty soon.”

“You did a great job,” Bill assured him.

“A little too good, if you ask me,” Amy said in a comically jealous voice, elbowing her husband as she rolled her eyes.

“Where did you buy your outfit?” Mary asked, which launched Connor into a story about how he’d talked to Julia about her favorite stores, and found that Julia, to whom he’d hardly ever spoken for more than a minute or two, had loved talking about her clothes.

“After that,” he continued, “I just started doing research and just talking to any women whose clothes looked like the style I wanted to emulate. They were always happy to talk to me.”

“Well, of course they were,” Mary said. “Asking a woman about her style decisions is the highest of compliments.”

“Where did you get those shoes?” Amy asked, and ‘the girls’ began chattering about everything from clothes to makeup to shoes to skin cream, to…

“Bruins’ game Sunday afternoon at our place?” Joe asked ‘the guys,’ trying to ignore the other conversation.

“Absolutely,” Toni said, rolling her eyes at ‘the girls.’

“Call me ahead of time and tell me what bra you’re wearing so I don’t wear the same thing,” Bill teased Toni. He was rewarded with a smirk and a friendly flip of Toni’s middle finger.

They chatted as they ordered and ate their meals. It was wonderful for everyone to be together and laughing with each other.

“We didn’t order those,” Joe said to the waitress when she arrived with a round of drinks.

“They were sent over by someone at the bar.” She pulled out a cocktail napkin with something written on it. “They sent a note.”

Joe read the note while the rest looked around, curious.

“Who sent the drinks?” Bill asked.

Joe stood and looked around, then saw who he was looking for and waved that someone over. He then asked a person at the next table if he could steal an unused chair.

Bill stood and looked towards the bar and saw the small person with the buzz-cut, wearing beige jeans and a light blue Oxford shirt and round glasses. He chuckled.

“It’s Phil,” he said to the rest of the table.

“Phil?” asked Amy.

“From work,” Bill smiled. “Remember? I told you about Phil. They’re the one who Crenshaw went crazy about.”

“Oh,” both Amy and Mary said, familiar with the story. Neither Toni nor Connor knew what was happening.

“Join us,” Joe said, offering the newly acquired chair.

“Thanks,” Phil said in a voice that defied the masculine appearance. Phil took the seat, which was at the end of the table, with Connor to their left and Toni to their right. “Hi,” they said to everyone.

“Phil,” Joe said, “this is my wife, Mary, you know Bill, this is his wife, Amy, and this is Toni and Connie.”

Everyone said ‘hello.’

Phil looked at Toni and said, “Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Me?” Toni asked, eyebrows raised. “Why me?”

“Well… you know. I think Joe and Bill thought that you and I were kinda… you know. The same… in some ways.”

Toni nodded, still confused. “Are you a civil engineer or a sports fan?”

Now it was Phil’s turn to look confused. “No… I think they meant… you know, because I present as masculine and you present as feminine.”

“Feminine?” Toni laughed. “I have to admit that no one has ever called me ‘feminine’ before.”

“Must be that new bra,” Bill laughed, enjoying the confusion.

Still confused, Toni looked from Bill back to Phil.

“You’re Connie, right?” Phil asked Toni.

Toni blinked and shook off her confusion. “Connie!? No, I’m not Connie,” she laughed. “I’m Toni. This is Connie.” She indicated Connor sitting across the table.

Now it was Phil’s turn to be confused. “Y… you’re Connie?”

Connor smiled, but he was also trying to figure out what was going on.

“Y… you’re really a guy?” Phil asked, rather impolitely.

Connor nodded.

“Wow!” Phil gasped. “You don’t look anything like a guy.”

Connor chuckled. “Thanks… I guess. You don’t look anything like a woman, either.” That was something he’d never dream of saying under normal circumstances, but it seemed appropriate at that moment.

“Yeah, but…” Phil sputtered some more. “I mean… you’re… like… the prettiest girl here”

“Hey!” Shouted Mary and Amy in unison, causing Toni to blurt out a huge guffaw.

‘I’m serious,” said Phil. “I mean, I’ve been presenting as a man for probably seven years or so, and the guys told me you’ve only been doing this for a few weeks. How do you look so good and so natural after just a few weeks?”

“I can answer that,” offered Mary. “Since we were kids, everyone always mistook Connie for a girl. He’s always been one of us,” she indicated Amy and herself. “He finally embraced it a few weeks ago. That’s all.”

Phil nodded.

A few moments later, their meals arrived at the table. Joe and Bill insisted that Phil join them for the rest of their time at the restaurant, which was fine with everyone else. Phil was funny and sarcastic and made for delightful company.

They were just handing the bill back to the server when a guy, about the same age as them, came up to the table. “Hey,” the man said with a big smile, “You’re Bill Fuller, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” said Bill, a little caught off guard, and trying to place the man’s face.

The man looked at Joe. “And Joe Brooks, right?”

“Yeah,” said Joe, feeling as confused as Bill.

The man reached into his jacket and removed two envelopes from his breast pocket. He glanced at them, then handed one each to Bill and Joe. The moment they’d taken them, the man said, “Gentlemen, you have been served.”

“Served?” Both muttered, but the man had turned and walked away.

“Oh, shit,” Phil said, quietly.

The men opened their documents and looked at them.

“What are they?” Asked Amy.

“It looks like we’re being sued,” Joe said, still baffled by the occurrence.

“Sued!?” Asked Mary. “By who?”

“By Alan Crenshaw et al, I’d guess,” said Phil, shaking their head.

“How did you know?” Asked Bill.

“They’re suing me, too, as well as the company,” said Phil. “I never thought he’d go after you guys, though.”

“Why is he suing you?” Mary asked.

“Loss of salary and wages due to interferences perpetrated by each of us,” Bill explained, reading the paperwork.

“What a jackass,” Toni said, disgusted. “He’s just stirring the pot, right? He doesn’t have a leg to stand on, does he?”

“I doubt it,” said Joe.

“Look, guys, I’m sorry about this,” Phil said, remorsefully. “I got my court papers at home this afternoon. I had just gotten home when a constable knocked on my door and handed me the papers. I certainly never intended to make problems for anyone.”

“You haven’t,” Bill said, with a scoff.

“It’s that jerk Alan Crenshaw that’s making problems for everyone.” Joe said, shaking his head.

“Well, don’t worry,” Connor said. “I know a good lawyer. I’ll call my sister Monday morning. She’ll help you out.”

“I doubt that,” said Bill.

“Why?” Asked Connor.

“Look,” Bill said, placing the paperwork on the table and pointing to the name of the attorney who had initiated the lawsuit. There, on the dotted line, was the signature of one, H. Eleanore Bentley, attorney at law.

That was Heather.

Connor’s sister.
 

 
“You need to calm down,” Toni told Connor as they stepped out of her pickup truck at their apartment. He’d been wound up all night and hadn’t enjoyed the concert much at all. “I’m sure that your sister has a perfectly logical explanation for everything. I mean, she knows who Bill and Joe are. She wouldn’t take on a case just to harass your friends.”

“Logical?” Connor said, standing and straightening his skirts before closing the passenger door. “There’s nothing logical about it, AND there’s nothing logical about not answering her phone.”

“It’s the weekend, Connie…”

“Lawyers always answer their phones, Toni. She’s just avoiding speaking to me.”

“Well…” Toni sighed. She’d never seen Connor so upset. “Maybe she has a good reason, Connie. After all, we don’t know what happened. We’ve only heard one side of the story. Who knows? Maybe Heather sees an issue that we don’t see.”

“Then I want her to explain that to me,” Connor said. They headed to their front door. He was very riled up.

Toni was about to continue when a man stepped out of the shadows. A big man. Not ‘big’ as in Arnold Schwarzenegger or Dwayne Johnson big; Just ‘big.’ Like… very heavy. Well over three hundred pounds, if either of them had to guess.

They both stopped.

Instinctively, Toni stepped in front of Connor. If this huge man was going to attempt anything, Toni was going to make sure that Connie was protected.

“Excuse me,” the man said, calmly. “I’m sorry if I startled you. My name is Wexler. Roger Wexler. I’m an attorney representing Capewinds Concepts and its employees.”

No one moved.

“Anyway,” the big man continued. He looked from Toni to Connor and back again. “I’m sorry… is one of you Connor Miller?”

Before Connor could respond, Toni asked, “Why do you want to know?”

The big man stepped forward and extended a hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr Miller,” he said, but Toni, being mistaken for her boyfriend for the second time that evening, didn’t take his hand.

The man waited a few moments, but when it became obvious that no one was about to accept his handshake, he let his hand drop and cleared his throat. “Well, as I said, I am representing Capewinds Concepts, in a ‘wrongful firing and harassment’ case. Two of the business’ employees named as defendants are Joseph Brooks and William Fuller. I believe they are friends of yours, are they not?”

“What of it?” Toni snapped.

The man shifted his ample girth from foot to foot and looked around. “If we might go inside and discuss this…”

“It’s nearly one in the morning,” Toni snapped. “Why on earth would we let you into our place at this hour – AND, come to think of it – why are you even out here at this hour – and if you want our help, why would you be lurking about to ambush us?”

The man nodded. “All good questions. First – in fact, I wasn’t lurking. I have been to Boston to see a show at Symphony Hall this evening and I just happed to pass your address on my way home. I wrote a little note on the back of one of my business cards asking you to call me and left it in your mailbox. I had just left it and was headed back to my car when I ran into you. But you are right; it is too late for me to come in. I apologize. Just… please, Mr Miller, if you have a moment tomorrow or Monday, or whenever, could you please give me a call. Your name has come up in this case, and I would like to find out why.”

He looked around, pulled his suit coat collar a bit tighter and nodded. “Right,” he muttered. “Once again, I apologize for startling you. That was certainly not my intent. I would have called, but in this age of cell phones, I couldn’t find your number. Anyway… it’s getting chilly, so I’ll let you get inside.” He looked at Toni. “Mr Miller,” he looked at Connor, “ma’am…” he nodded. “Have a good night.”

He returned to his car. Started it and pulled out.

“Why wouldn’t you let me talk to him?” Connor asked when the car had left the driveway.

“Because it’s one in the morning and we don’t know this guy from Adam. Let’s take his card, check him out online, and if he’s legit, we’ll call him Monday.”
 

 
“I can’t believe Heather would have taken a case against Connie’s best friends,” Amy said, as she crawled into bed beside Bill.

‘Why?” Asked Bill, sounding genuinely surprised by Amy’s remark. “And besides, Joe and I are certainly not Connie’s best friends. That title belongs to you and Mary.”

“Oh, come on,” Amy scoffed. “We all grew up together and you and Joe have always treated Connie like he was your little sister – and that was loooong before he started wearing dresses.”

Bill shrugged. “Connie’s always needed people around him to… you know… help him… protect him. His mom was older and never very involved in his life. Joe and I… well… Connie was always just kinda one of the girls in the group. You know what I mean.”

“I do,” Amy sighed. “And now all that love and protection you guys have shown him is getting you both in trouble.”

Bill rolled on his side and looked at Amy. “Hey… let’s not look at it that way, ok? Connie is not the problem, alright? The problem is that jackass Crenshaw and an overly litigious, narrow-minded society. I could see that Connie felt terrible about everything tonight. None of this is her fault and I don’t want her to feel that it is. Ok?”

“His,” Amy said.

“What?”

“You said ‘her’ twice, but Connie isn’t going by ‘her.’ At least not yet. I know Toni said she/her a few times, but Connie hasn’t officially made the change.”

“Oh. Sorry,” Bill acknowledged his error. He pondered a moment. “So… if Connie’s not gay, and doesn’t see himself as a trans-woman… then… what exactly is he?”

“You mean you want a label for him?”

“I don’t know… I mean… I’m sure it’s going to come up when I talk to a lawyer, so how do I describe how he is?”

“I don’t really know,” Amy shrugged, cuddling in beside Joe. “I mean, he’s definitely queer, I would say.”

“Isn’t that a little insulting?”

“Queer? No, Bill. Not anymore. It just means someone who… presents… or loves in a way that’s not the societal norm. Connie is definitely queer. Let’s just leave it at that.”
 

 
“But what if you actually lose your job over this?” Asked Mary as she and Joe ate Sunday morning breakfast.

“Honestly, I don’t think that’s going to happen. I know that the world has been kind of upended lately, and hating people that aren’t cookie-cutter-people… you know what I mean… is commonplace, but I work for a pretty fair-minded company and I think they’ll stand by Bill, Phil and me. After all, they did show Crenshaw the door when he got aggressive, right?” Joe answered. “But if I should lose my job, I’ll just have to find another. I’m young, I have a degree from a good college and I have some experience now… we’ll be ok.”

“I wish I’d never started all this crap in the first place,” Mary said, shaking her head.

“You?” Joe laughed. “You think YOU started all this?”

“Yeah. I put Connie a dress, I did his makeup, and I sent you that picture that Alan Crenshaw saw.”

“Honey, you may have been the one to facilitate Connie’s female awakening, but you definitely DID NOT start this.”

He sipped his coffee and continued. “Babe, Alan Crenshaw is now and always has been an asshole. He was in high school, he was in college, and he was at the firm. He was always going to be an asshole and eventually he was going to have to face the consequences for being an asshole.”

He chuckled and went on. “And as for Connie… come on, Mare… ever since we were in kindergarten, we all knew that there was more girl than boy in Connie. All of us knew except Connie. All of that feminine part of his personality was just damed up inside of him. Yeah, you may have been the one to have opened up the first hole in that dam, but the dam was going to burst someday, and Connie was always going to end up letting all of that femininity out. Just look at his apartment! He was only seventeen when he moved in there and he covered it in lace curtains and lace doilies and lace table clothes… there was lace everywhere. And as for Toni, well Toni couldn’t be more of a guy if she had a ‘Y’ chromosome floating around in her DNA.”

Mary nodded and smiled. “So, what will you do if you do lose your job?”

“Same as I always do,” he shrugged. “I’ll stay close to our friends and take care of you.”

“TAKE CARE OF ME!?” Mary shouted in mock shock and insult, dropping her spoon onto her plate with a noisy clank just to increase the drama of the situation. “Listen to me, buddy-boy, I make nearly as much money as you do, and I do not need any misogynistic pity. I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”

Joe laughed. “Fine. Then you can take care of me.”

Mary picked up her spoon and returned to her breakfast. “Hmmm… I’ll think about it.”
 

 
“Robert Wexler,” the rotund attorney said answering his phone.

Hmmm… no one to answer his phone, not a great sign.

“Good morning, Mr Wexler,” Toni said into her car’s phone connection while she sat in her truck with Don, her work partner, on the side of a road near a small bridge in Mashpee that needed to be rebuilt soon. “This is Toni Simon. We met Friday night outside my home in Sandwich. I’m engaged to Connor Miller.”

“Oh, yes, Mr Simon,” the lawyer said, clearing his throat.

Don chuckled at Wexler’s misgendering of Toni.

The lawyer cleared his throat again. “Actually, I’m not sure we DID meet. As I recall, there was just Mr Miller and his fiancé.”

“I am his fiancé, Mr Wexler,” Toni explained. “You met Connie and me. I did most of the talking.”

There was a silent pause. “I see…” Wexler said ponderously. “So… I was speaking with…”

“Me,” Toni said, not at all phased by his mistake. Heck, it had happened a few times before Connie ever started wearing women’s clothing. “The pretty one was Connie.”

“I see,” said the older voice, a bit nonplused. “Well, I do apologize for my error, Ms Simon. Now, to the point of your call…?” He left it hanging.

“Yes, Mr Wexler. My purpose for calling is to find out why you feel the need to include Connie in this case. He doesn’t work for the company that fired Alan Crenshaw, he has made no political statements, hasn’t even publicly announced how he plans to live. Now, I understand that a lot of this issue is centered around a person named Phyllis who works with Bill and Joe due to the fact that Phyllis presents as a man and goes by the name Phil, and Connie presents as a woman, but until Friday evening, neither Connie nor I had ever met Phil, so Connie’s recent decision to present as a woman could not have possibly influenced Phil’s choices or Alan Crenshaw’s behavior.” She finished her well rehearsed spiel, relieved to have spat out everything she meant to say without faltering.

“Well done,” Don whispered, supportively.

“Yes, Ms Simon,” Mr Wexler said, sounding suddenly exhausted, “but as I tried to explain on Friday evening, Mr Crenshaw’s first anti-gay, or anti-LGBTQ, outburst stemmed from a photo of Mr Miller that was sent to Misters Brooks and Fuller by their wives. The photo showed Mr Miller… Connie, that is… dressed as a woman. I apologize, I have not yet seen the photo, but I expect that I will when I meet with your friends later this morning. Anyway, my understanding is that Mr Miller… Connie… looked quite believably female in the photo and that led to Mr Crenshaw making some very lewd and inappropriate comments. That, in turn, led to a conversation between Mr Crenshaw and your friends regarding said remarks and threats were made on both sides…”

“Yes, but Connie wasn’t actually involved in that interaction,” Toni interrupted.

“And besides,” Don jumped in, breaking a promise he’d made to remain silent, “the photo of Connie didn’t lead to Crenshaw’s rude remarks. Crenshaw is solely responsible for what came out of his own mouth.”

“And to whom am I speaking now?” Wexler asked.

“I’m sorry,” Don said. “I’m a co-worker of Toni’s and I promised to just sit quietly, but I just couldn’t stay quiet.”

“I see,” Wexler said. “Of course, you are correct, but that isn’t how the lawyers for Mr Crenshaw will present things. His team is being led by a very competent attorney, Ms H. Eleanore Bentley, and she will try to lay the blame for Mr Crenshaw’s behavior firmly in the lap of Connor Miller…”

“As she always does,” Toni said in frustration.

“I beg your pardon?” Wexler asked.

“I’m sorry,” Toni said, breathing deeply to relax. “It’s just that… well, Heather always blames Connie for everything.”

“Heather?” Wexler said.

“Yes, Heather… oh… I mean, Attorney Bentley… She always blames Connie for everything.”

There was a moment of silence before Mr Wexler asked, “And… do you know Ms Bentley?”

“Of course I do,” Toni said. “She’s Connie’s sister… well… half-sister, but Connie never calls her anything but his sister. Anyway, yeah, she always blames Connie for everything.”

“His sister…” Wexler pondered.

“Holy crap,” Don said quietly. “He didn’t know.”

Suddenly, a reinvigorated Wexler said, “Ms Simon, let’s start from the beginning.”
 

 
“Attorney Bentley’s office, may I help you?” Julia said into the microphone/earpiece that hung on her left ear. “No, I’m sorry, Ms Bentley is unavailable this morning. Can I take your number and have her call you back?”

As she said this, she noticed a very well dressed, attractive woman approaching the door to her vestibule. The woman had long, dark, wavy hair and wore a beautiful, long sleeved red dress that had a full skirt with a hem that sat just below her knees. It was a sunny, autumn day, so the woman wore no coat, but she did wear a wide-brimmed straw hat that complimented her hair and dress beautifully.

“Yes, of course,” she said into the phone, having typed the client’s name into her computer. “Ms Bentley will return your call as soon as possible. Yes, by noon tomorrow at the latest.” The door to her space opened and the fashionable woman entered the vestibule. “Thank you,” Julia said into the phone. “I will let her know.”

The fashionable woman didn’t even acknowledge Julia, but plowed past her desk, headed to the main office.

‘Goodbye,” Julia said, already standing and moving to intercept the intruder. “Hey!” She shouted, stepping in front of the door just in a nick of time. “May I help you?” She asked.

“Get out of my way, Julia,” the woman spat. “I need to see my sister and I need to see her NOW!”

Julia’s brain blurred and refocused in a matter of seconds. She stared at the intruder. “Connie?” She asked, confused.

The intruder pulled off her straw hat and scowled at the office manager. “Yes, of course it’s me,” he said, angrily. “I need to talk to Heather right now.”

Julia stood and looked at the woman in awe. “Connie?” Connie looked amazing, and he also looked a decade more mature than he had the last time she’d seen him. At that time, he’d looked very attractive, but in a kind of a ‘high school virgin’ kind of way. Now… damn… she’d told him about the websites she used to purchase her own wardrobe, but he’d gone all in! The dress, the hair, the makeup… everything just screamed ‘mature twenty-something with a flair for fashion.’ “How…?”

“How?” Connie asked confused, then realized what Julia meant. “Oh… I just… got involved in my own presentation, I guess.” He gave her a small smile. “Thank you for your advice, by the way.”

Julia just shook her head, still amazed.

“Look, Julia, I need to go in and see Heather right now,” Connie said with less vehemence.

“She’s not here,” Julia said, relaxing a bit. “She’s up in Boston for a seminar at Suffolk University. She’s been gone since Friday afternoon and won’t be back until tomorrow.”

Connor stepped back a half step and nodded. “I see. That’s why she hasn’t answered any of my calls. She planned all of this to happen while she was away.” He shook his head.

“Planned what?” Julia asked.

“The subpoenas… all of it,” Connor said, moving back towards the door.

“What subpoenas?” Julia asked.

“The subpoenas my friends got Friday night. I can’t believe she’d betray me this way?”

“No, no, no,” Julia said. “If she’d sent out subpoenas, I’d have been the one to type up the paperwork, send everything to the courthouse, and notify the constable to deliver them. I didn’t do any of that, so…”

“So… what?” Asked Connor.

“Well… it’s just,” Julia thought. “On Friday, Heather sent me home early because she was leaving early for Boston. That was kinda weird, you know? I mean, she goes away pretty frequently, but she never sends me home early. I asked her if I should tell you about it, too, so that you could quit early, but she said she’d let you know, but…”

“But she didn’t,” Connor said, finishing the sentence for her. He sighed and headed to the door. “I’ll come back when she’s here.” He reached for the handle.

“Wait,” Julia said, feeling like she couldn’t just let Connor leave with him feeling so depressed. “Let’s get some lunch,” she offered.

Connor glanced at the clock behind Julia’s desk. “It’s only eleven-fifteen. Can you go this early?” Then he thought and said, “You can’t leave anyway. You can’t close the office in the middle of the day.”

“Screw the office,” Julia said. “I feel like you need some company right now. I’ll just lock up and we’ll go.” She grabbed her keys and purse and headed for the door.

“Aren’t you going to sign out on your computer?”

Julia smirked. “Not today, girlfriend. Today, we need some on-the-clock-talk-therapy.”
 

 
“So, just to review,” Attorney Wexler said, looking at his notes while also glancing at Joe, Bill, Phil and Jean Crowley, the Human Resources Director at Capeways Concepts, the company where Joe and Bill worked and from which Alan Crenshaw had recently been dismissed. “Both of you, Mr Brooks and Mr Fuller, received the photo which seems to have begun this chain of events on your individual phones. Neither of you shared the photo with Mr Crenshaw. He saw the photo quite inadvertently. Correct?”

“It wasn’t exactly inadvertent,” Joe said, smirking. “Alan butted his nose into our business, like he always has.”

“And he was rude and downright disrespectful about it, too,” confirmed Bill.

“I see,” nodded Wexler, his pudgy fingers paging through his file. “I don’t seem to have a copy of that photo,” he grunted. “Can I get a copy?”

“Of course,” Jean Crowley said.

“I’d rather you not have one,” Bill said forcefully, causing Joe to look a bit uncomfortable.

The attorney looked up over his cheap reading glasses. “Excuse me?” He asked, not angry, but confused.

“I’d rather not have Connie’s photo included in the file,” Bill said.

“I see, but,” Wexler nodded, understanding, but determined, “you see, Mr Fuller, I cannot properly tell the judge this story without that photo entered into evidence. It’s just part of the process.”

“It’s not going anywhere beyond the courtroom,” Jean Crowley said, assuringly.

Joe looked to Bill and raised his eyebrows in a ‘what do you think’ manner.

Bill thought for a moment. “No,” he finally muttered. “I’d still rather not use it.”

“Then I’ll have no choice but to subpoena Mr Miller and have him appear in court as a witness to show the court…”

“Under no circumstances,” Bill said, louder than he’d intended.

“Bill…” Jean Crowley began, but Bill cut her off. 

“Look, Jean. Connie did nothing wrong. Hell, Joe and I did nothing wrong. Phil did nothing wrong. The whole damned company did nothing wrong. The only thing any of us did was come into the orbit of an asswipe named Alan Crenshaw and his friends. That’s it. Now, if Phil and Joe and I have to fight to keep our jobs and our savings, EVEN THOUGH we did nothing wrong, then so be it. The worst that can happen to us is that we have to find new jobs and start over. That’s unfair, but that’s life. But if Connie gets dragged into this, then there’s the chance that a kind, quiet person who means no harm to anyone and just wants to live his life the way he wants, could end up in the public eye, where he’ll be ridiculed and taunted by more idiots like Crenshaw.”

“It won’t come to that,” Mr Wexler started, but he too was interrupted by Bill.

“No? Then why, Mr Wexler, would Connie’s sister have agreed to represent Alan Crenshaw in this case?”

“What?” Asked Jean Crowley. “Alan Crenshaw’s attorney is the sister of this person, Connie? How is that possible? I mean… is that ethical?”

“Ethical?” Mr Wexler said, moving his hands as if balancing scales. “It’s not illegal, but… I would never do it myself.”

“Why would she agree to take this case, then?” Jean Crowley asked again.

“To get the opportunity to hurt Connie in a very public way,” Bill said, getting wound up.

“Come on, Bill,” Joe said, rubbing his friend’s back. “Take a breath and calm down. Remember that we all have a lot on the line here, too.”

Bill shook his head. “Look, Mr Wexler, Ms Crowley… I know that Joe and I have a lot to be concerned about, and I want to protect my family and Bill’s family, too, but… Goddamnit, Connie is family too.” He looked at Joe. “You understand what I’m saying, right?”

Joe nodded. “I do.”

“Well, then somebody explain this to ME, please,” Jean Crowley said. “All of it, please. Who this person is and why his sister would want to expose him in this way?”

“Because she’s a bitch,” Bill snapped.

“Bill!” Joe said, getting frustrated with his friend. “Take a break before you lose your temper.”

Bill nodded and sat back, arms folded, breathing deeply to calm himself. Joe began speaking.

“Ok… so… We all grew up together – me, Bill, my wife, Mary, Bill’s wife, Amy, Mary’s cousin Toni, and Connie. Bill and me… well, we were just regular boys. You know… always roughhousing, playing sports, doing anything physical, and Mary’s cousin, Toni, she lived out in the Berkshires, and she was a tomboy in every sense of the word. Never wore anything pink or pretty. She could keep up with me and Bill all day long – and sometimes even out do our antics. You know?”

Both Wexler and Crowley nodded.

Joe continued. “Mary and Amy, they were regular little girls. Everything pink and pretty. Dresses and gossip and makeup and lace and all that.”

More nods.

“And then there was Connie.” He smiled. “Connie is… well… Connie was a boy, but… there was just always a lot more girl than boy about Connie, if you know what I mean. Connie loved everything pretty. Everything soft. He knew more about clothes and fashion at eleven years old than Mary and Amy did combined. He always wore his hair long – like really long – and he was always a lot smaller than all of the rest of us. Even the girls.”

He paused for a moment, smiling about the memories he’d conjured up. Then he continued.

“Heather… that is, H. Eleanore Bentley, as you know her. Well, Heather is, like sixteen or seenteen years older than all of us. She’s Connie’s half-sister… Different dads… and she didn’t really have anything to do with Connie growing up. She’d come by every now and again, and, well, Connie worshipped her. He thought she was so smart and successful, being a lawyer and all, but no matter how hard he tried to engage Heather’s affection, well… it was like Heather wanted nothing to do with Connie. It really hurt him.’

“Anyway, when we were in high school Connie’s mom died and left her house and whatever else she had to be split evenly between Heather and Connie. We all kinda figured that Heather would let Connie live in his house for a while longer, at least until he graduated, and then sell the place. But Heather was all about selling it ASAP, saying that house prices were at a premium right then and that they’d never get that price again. Like any house on the Cape ever depreciated in value, right?”

A chuckle came from everyone in the room.

“So, Heather sets Connie up in a nice place, but she was the executor of the estate, so she made Connie sign an agreement that stated that she would provide him with an allowance to pay his mortgage, etc, until he was twenty-five. Not eighteen. Not twenty-one. Twenty-five. He was able to get money for his education, but he had to stay close to home. No dorm fees or anything like that.”

Mr Wexler grunted a surprised noise. “That seems a bit… Victorian… to me.”

“You think?” Bill said, sarcastically.

“But this young man, Connie, works for his sister, right?” Wexler asked, checking his notes.

“Yeah,” Bill nodded. “He works for her, alright. He does the work of three people and makes less than her receptionist.”

“Then why doesn’t he get another job?” Wexler asked.

“Because more than anything, Connie wants to bond with Heather,” Joe explained. “Heather knows that, and she uses it against him all the time. This case, in my opinion, is the best opportunity Heather has ever had to hurt Connie.”

Wexler nodded. “Understood.”
 
 
To Be Continued...