Found Family: Chapter 2 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 all of you found the first chapter a good read despite the concern with pressure cookers :P Moving on past that, I do hope that all of you find this chapter a little bit more towards your liking. I kept the heat on low so as to bring out the better flavors. As always, please leave me a comment and let me know what you all think of this tale. I am always striving to be a better author. ~Clara.

Image Credit: https://perchance.org/beautiful-people
 
 
Chapter 2
‘When everything goes to hell, the people who stand by you without flinching -- they are your family.’ - Jim Butcher
 
 
Breakfast had been sliced strawberries, sliced bananas and some hardtack with Twinings English Breakfast tea while listening to a podcast he enjoyed. It was too comic actors who’d been on the same TV show at one time. They discussed the show and had on guests who had connections to the production. It was just light conversation that made him smile.

He washed up the dishes he’d dirtied, dried them, returned them to their cabinets and then headed into his walk-in shower, bringing his phone along to continue the podcast.

He’d barely gotten his hair wet when his doorbell app sounded. His landlord had installed one of these wireless doorbells systems at every entrance recently, but it was rare that it ever rang, and even rarer that it would ring this early.

He stepped out of the shower and dried his hand, grabbed his phone, and opened the app. Standing at his entrance was Mary. That was very odd.

“Mare?” He asked.

“Obviously,” she said, sounding a bit snarky. “Come let me in.”

“I was in the shower…”

“Good. Then my timing is perfect. Open up.”

He shook his head. What the heck was she doing here this early? He hadn’t even had time to launder her dress.

“I’ll be right down.”

He grabbed his robe, didn’t bother to wrap his hair, and ran down the stairs barefoot and naked, save for the robe. He opened the door and Mary entered with a large toolbox and headed up the stairs. “Come on. I haven’t got all day,” she said, hustling.

“All day for what?”

“To turn you back into a princess, Cinderella,” she giggled, entering the apartment and heading for the kitchen table where she rested her toolbox. “God, your place is always immaculate. How do you keep it this way?’

“I clean it,” he said, matter-of-factly. “What’s going on.”

“How often do you dust?”

“I dust one room every day. Don’t you?”

“Are you insane?”

“Apparently. Why are you here so early?”

“My cousin informs me that you have finally seen the light and plan to come over to the female side full time. I’m here to help.”

Connor’s jaw dropped. His conversation with Toni hadn’t even been an hour ago. How had Mary found out so quickly? “I… I never said full time…’ he sputtered.

Mary put her hands on her hips. “Look, Connie… I do the hair of a lot of trans-girls, ambiguous guys… you name it, and let me tell you, none of them is as naturally cute as you are. You were born to be pretty, young lady, and I’m here to help.”

She opened her toolbox and pulled out a pink pump bottle of something. “Take off the robe, sweetie, and let’s get started.”

“My robe? I’m not wearing anything under this.”

“So?”

“So!?”

“Oh, come on, Connie. We’ve gotten dressed for the beach together hundreds of times. I’ve seen your winkle a million times and you’ve seen my boobs as many times as my husband. Unless you’ve grown another one since we went swimming this summer, there’s nothing I haven’t seen before. Come on, the clock’s ticking.”

Connor shrugged. She was right of course, but it was still odd to do it right here in his kitchen. He took off the robe and laid it neatly over the back of one of his pressed-back kitchen chairs.

While he did that, Mary reached into her bag of tricks and produced a banana clip. She wound his hair quickly and secured it with the clip, then put on some latex gloves before pumping some of the pinky-white fluid in the pink pump bottle into the palm of her hand. “How often do you shave?”

“Not very.”

“Good. Then you won’t miss it,” she said as she carefully smeared the pasty fluid over what should have been his beard area.

“Wait,” Connor said, a little alarmed, “is this hair removal cream?”

“It’s called ‘Veet,’ and yes, it removes hair, and it works faster than most and won’t irritate sensitive areas.”

“Sensitive areas?” Connor thought for a second. “Oh, no you don’t…”

“Oh, hush, you big baby.” Mary finished coating his face. Then set the stove timer for six minutes. At about three minutes, I’ll coat another part of you. You should be hairless in about a half hour.”

“Yesterday you said I didn’t have much body hair so it didn’t matter.”

“Yesterday was just for a lark, Connie. I just didn’t want you to look icky. This is for real. Women don’t have body hair.”

“Of course they do,” Connor scoffed. “They’re mammals.”

“Women remove their body hair, then. Unless you want to be a woman with hair like an ape.”

“Toni only does it in the summer for the beach. After the water gets cold she doesn’t shave until May or June.”

“Yeah, well my cousin is not the most ladylike woman I know. She never wears dresses. Since you’re the one who’ll be in dresses, you need to be the lady.”

“Is there a rule that I have to wear just dresses?”

“Yes. Now shut up and let me coat your chest.”

After his chest had been coated, Mary took a spatula looking device and removed the cream from Connor’s face. “There,” she smiled. “Smooth as a baby’s bottom.”

Just about a half hour later, Connor was as smooth as any new born baby.

“Into the shower with you,” Mary ordered, and use this body wash.” She handed him a bottle of Olay body wash.

“Will this remove the toxins from the other stuff?”

“I don’t know,” Mary said, “but you’ll smell like pretty peaches and cherry blossoms and smelling pretty is part of being pretty. Now get in there. I’ll be in with shampoo and conditioner.”

Connor’s doorbell rang app again. He turned to grab his phone, but Mary stopped him. “That’s just Amy. I’ll let her in.”

“Why is Amy here?”

“She has some clothes for you. Now, stop asking questions and get into that shower!”

Connor had never had a less private shower. Every few minutes Mary came in with shampoo, or conditioner or powder to use afterward… it was nonstop. Amy came in a few times and asked a few questions about shoe size, waist size, etc.

When he was done, he turbaned his hair in a towel and looked at himself in the mirror. Completely hairless and naked, he looked like a little boy, but a little boy with sculpted eyebrows and the remains of enough mascara and eyeliner to make his eyes look large and innocent… and female.
 

 
“I’m going to see Mrs Gray at her home this morning,” H. Eleanore Bentley told her receptionist in an email. “I should be back in by mid afternoon. I’ll swing by the office before I head up to Sandwich. I’ll in around ten. If you have a few minutes, please gather the paperwork I need to bring to Connie. There’s an expandable brown folder on my desk with his name on it. If you are aware of anything else I need to bring him, please put it in there for me.”

 Julia, Heather’s secretary, knew that Mrs Gray was a very wealthy client of H. Eleanore Bentley and that Heather’s half-brother, Connie (what an absurd name for a man), lived in one of her buildings, of which she owned several, up in Sandwich. She glanced at her watch. Not nearly time to be doing office work, but she figured that responding would look good. So she emailed back, “You got it, boss.” There. That ought to score a few brownie points.
 

 
Connor opened the door a crack. “May I have my robe, please?” He called out. Amy appeared and passed it to him.

While he’d been in the shower, Mary had transformed his impeccably tidy kitchen into a rather messy beauty salon. “Sit, sit, sit,” she said in a harried tone. “It’s after eight and we all have jobs to get to.

Connor sat in one of his pressed-back chairs and Mary went to work on his hair.

“Give me your hand,” Amy said, in a tone less commanding than Mary.

Connor extended his hand to her and she placed it on one of his folding tables. “Why?”

“I’m going to apply acrylic nails and polish them.”

“Nails? I have to type all day. I can’t have claws on my fingers.”

Amy waved her very sensibly long nails in front of him. “These aren’t claws, Connie. Relax and let me do what needs to be done.”
 

 
“Good morning,” Toni said to her colleagues when they all gathered on the side of Route 6 that morning. There were eight of them out there. Representatives from the towns of Truro and Provincetown, three of her superiors from the Highway Department, a representative from the Massachusetts Department of Environmental Protection and another engineer named Don, who, like Toni, would end up trying to figure out a practical way to implement whatever the higher-ups considered to be a viable solution to a terrible traffic problem.

They all sipped coffee and looked around at the narrow strip of land between the beaches and the sand dunes. For the next hour or so, ideas were thrown out and tossed around, but none of them were going to work, due mostly to the environmental impact.

“If I may point out something from an engineering standpoint,” Toni finally offered.

“Please do,” on of her bosses said.

“I don’t think the real problem is the highway. There are plenty of exits into P-Town. Yeah, the traffic backs up out here on the main access road, but the problem is actually P-Town itself.”

“Meaning?” The Provincetown representative asked defensively.

“Meaning the streets in P-Town are too narrow, there are way too many residences, not enough sidewalks for the massive amount of foot traffic, no bike lanes, not enough public parking to accommodate the tourist traffic, almost no public transportation and just too damned many people coming to visit all summer.”

One of her bosses was smiling. He liked what she’d said. The other boss looked at the second engineer and asked, “Do you share this opinion?”

Don, the second engineer, a guy that Toni knew well from other projects, pondered for a moment. “Well…” he took a deep breath and let it out. “Yeah… I do. I may not have stated it quite so bluntly, but, yeah. The problem isn’t the highway, the problem occurs after the drivers leave the main road and head into town. Then the traffic backs up out here.”

The Provincetown rep barked, “So what are you two suggesting? That we level the whole historic town and start all over again just to make traffic flow more easily?”

“Alright, let’s all calm down,” one of Toni’s bosses said. “Obviously the Commonwealth can’t just come into P-Town and run roughshod all over the place, but maybe there’s something we can do to help. Let’s take a drive around and see how we might be able to help.”

They all headed for their cars. As Don passed Toni’s truck he said, “Nice job, Toni. Looks like we’ll be in town for lunch and I love the smokey seafood chowder at The Squealing Pig. Let’s hope they haven’t closed for the season. If they’re open, lunch is on me.”
 

 
“One last thing before we get you dressed,” Mary said, holding what looked like the butt of a pistol in her hand. She then held what looked like diamond stud earrings in front of Connor and said, “Do you like these? They’re not diamonds, of course, but they do look nice and go with everything. You’ll need to keep them in for a couple of weeks.”

“They’re earrings,” Connor said, a tad confused.

“That’s right.”

I don’t have pierced ears, though.”

In what seemed like a second, Mary loaded the earring into her gun, placed the gun on his right earlobe and pulled the trigger.

“Ow! Hey!” Connor protested, shocked and confused.

“And now you have a pierced ear.” She moved to the left side, loading her weapon on the way. “Now stay still and you’ll have two in a second.”

He barely felt the second piercing. “I didn’t ask you to do that,” he said in a somewhat whiny voice.

Amy held the handheld mirror in front of him. “Look how pretty you look with them, though.”

Connor looked. They were very pretty and they made him look pretty, too, and he liked that. He raised a hand to touch them and noticed the deep red fingernails on his hands. They were pretty, too and they matched the deep red lipstick Mary had applied to his lips.

“Well, what do you think?” Mary asked.

When he didn’t answer, Amy said, “I think he’s overwhelmed. He looks beautiful, Mare. Let’s get him dressed.”

“Here,” Mary said, handing him a clean pair of silky panties. These were dripping in lace.

“Are all of your underpants this fancy?” Connor asked, sliding the panties up his legs under the robe.

“Most,” Mary replied, not feeling the need to inform him of her need for cotton panties at certain times of the month.

“Why?”

“Why!?” Mary mocked, looking shocked. “Connie, what do you think I do for a living?”

“Cut hair, I guess,” he shrugged.

“Connor,” she said, folding her arms across her belly, “a barber cuts hair. I make people beautiful. That’s what I do. And being beautiful isn’t just about nice hair and makeup.”

“It’s not?”

“Of course not, Connie. It’s about making someone feel beautiful. I help them smooth their skin. Cover the imperfections that annoy them. Make the most of what they have. And that includes understanding clothes, Connie. Smooth skin against silky smooth material is a miraculous feeling. Those panties, the bra I loaned you, the slip I’m about to have you put on… these are all designed for soft, silky experiences. Then we complete the look with a beautiful dress or blouse and skirt. Beauty is about every aspect of you, Connie, and feminine beauty is all about the look, the feel, the attitude… you’ll learn, little girl.”

“And you’ll love it,” Amy contributed. “I’ve always thought you were meant to be a woman, Connie. Everything about you is petite and cute. And you’ve always been one of us girls. We’re just happy you finally realized it.”

The slip hung a little loose and wonderfully cool and silky on his body. Then came a gold blouse. Again, silky to the touch. It buttoned somewhat loosely around him, but the material still seemed to show the bosom created by the padded, push-up bra.

Then came the skirt. It was soft and loose and full with a black background that was covered in roses. Roses that were deep red that matched his fingernails and lips perfectly.

Mary grabbed a wide belt of black leather to place around the high waistline the skirt created, while Amy bent down and put shoes on his feet.

The shoes were the same red as the roses, but they were flat soled and showed a good deal of the top of his foot before his toes disappeared into the red leather bow that covered toe box. The flats felt different than the heels he’d worn the previous day. In fact, they made him feel a little shorter than he did when he wore his usual Crocs. He looked at them and marveled at their simplicity and odd beauty. Why would a shoe look beautiful? He just thought of shoes as functional.

“They’re pretty, aren’t they?” Amy asked, rousing him from his thoughts.

“They are. And it’s weird… they show so much skin, but they make my feet look smaller.”

Amy shrugged. “I guess. I just always thought they were cute.”

“Are they yours?” Connor asked.

“They were,” Amy said, smiling. “They’re yours now. They haven’t fit me since I was a junior in high school. When Mare told me she was coming over to get you dolled up, I ran to my mom’s and grabbed a few things I thought would fit you. Looks like I guessed right, huh?”

Connor blushed a little. “I guess.” He looked at both friends, Amy patting him and admiring how cute he looked, and Mary hustling to pack up all of her equipment. “Hey, guys…” he said, “…thanks for all of this. Toni is going to flip when she sees me.”

“Well, you like it too, right?” Mary asked.

He blushed deeper. “I do, Mare. Thanks.”

“I can’t believe you were never curious about how you’d look as a girl before,” Amy said. “I mean, you were always with us. Shopping, getting our hair done, talking about guys, getting ready for dates… You never wanted to try being a girl?”

He shrugged. “Well… kinda, maybe, but... I mean, I loved watching you guys becoming beautiful women and all, and I was happy for you, but… I guess I never looked at women the way other guys did.”

“What do you mean?” Mary asked.

“You know,” he shrugged. “If a beautiful girl walks by a group of guys, you hear the stupid ‘I’d screw her’ remarks and stuff like that, but… I just always loved the way women looked and moved and… you know what I mean.”

“We do,” Amy assured him.

“And Toni…” he started then stopped.

“What about Toni?” Mary asked.

He thought for a moment. He really hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “I know most guys wouldn’t find Toni all that attractive, but to me… since the first time she came to visit when we were little kids, I’ve just always thought that she was the coolest, most good-looking girl I’d ever seen.”

Mary smiled. “Toni’s always known who and what she was, Connie. She’s a cis-woman with a masculine bent to her, and she’s no lady, but she’s all woman, and let me tell you something… Toni has been just as infatuated with you as you have been with her. Every time I talked to her when we were kids, the first thing she’d ask me was how Connie was.”

“You two were made for each other,” Amy smiled, then she noticed the clock on the stove. “Oh, shoot! I have to go! It’s almost nine. Let me just get a quick picture of you.” She grabbed her phone and took a quick shot of Connor.

‘Send that to me. I have to run, too,” Mary said, grabbing her toolboxes. She kissed Connor’s cheek as she headed for the door. Amy gave him a kiss too, and out the door they went.

Connor quickly wiped down the kitchen table to get rid of any residual makeup or other beauty products, made sure his apartment was all in order again, then grabbed his laptop and decided to use the ‘bill-paying-desk’ in the living room instead of the little IKEA desk in his home office, which was the small half-bedroom, and signed in at 8:59 am as usual.
 

 
“Oh, geez, look at this,” Bill chuckled as he glanced at the photo that had just arrived on his phone. He showed it to Joe. They both worked in the same company, Capewinds Concepts, and the entire staff was gathering for the weekly Monday morning staff meeting, which meant the company supplied coffee and pastries.

Joe looked at the picture and chuckled a bit himself. “I guess the girls have finally gotten their way and Connie is finally one of them.”

“Well, Toni has always been one of us, so I guess it’s just fair.” They both laughed a bit at that. “They did make him look great, though.”

“Yeah,” Joe agreed. “You know, growing up, half the time we were together, he was explaining to one person or another that he was a guy, not a girl. This will probably make his life easier.”

Bill sent a reply to Amy. ‘Awesome! He looks beautiful.’

‘I know, right!’ Came the immediate replay.

Suddenly Joe’s phone buzzed, too. He glanced at the exact same picture that Bill had shown him as the seat next to Bill was taken by Alan Crenshaw, a former classmate of theirs who had only recently joined the company. Joe showed Bill the screen. “I guess they’re pretty proud of themselves.”

“And rightfully so,” Bill smiled. “They did a great job on him.”

“Whoa!” Alan said, looking over Bill’s shoulder at Joe’s screen. “Who is that? I’d do her in a heartbeat.”

“A friend,” Joe said, hoping to just shut Alan down.

“Wait a second,” Alan said, reaching over and grabbing Joe’s hand before he could put his phone away. “You said ‘him.’ ‘They did a good job on HIM.’” He examined the picture more closely. “I know that face! That’s that queer little freak that used to hang with you guys in high school. What’s his name?”

“Hey, Alan,” Joe said, “knock it off.”

“He had a girl’s name. Cathy, or Crystal or something like that.”

Bill pulled the phone away and pushed it back to Joe. “Alan…”

“CONNIE!” Alan said way too loudly. “His name is Connie. Oh, my God, is he still hanging around with you!?”

Before they could say anything, Alan continued. “Is he a tranny? I mean, is he a girl where it counts? You know, down below? Because if he is, then maybe I’ll give him a call. Show him what it’s like to be a woman for real!”

Bill stood. “Alan, can I speak to you in the hall for a moment?”

Alan looked at Bill and then at Joe. He scoffed. “What? Are the two of you going to gang up on me because I insulted your faggy friend?”

“No ganging up, no violence, nothing like that. I just need to speak to you in private for a moment,” Bill insisted.

Alan looked around and considered the situation. He was only three months into his tenure at this company, he didn’t really know anyone except these two jerks from high school. Getting into a fight or loud argument in front of everyone would probably not be a great idea. He shrugged, stood with his coffee and a half eaten danish and walked towards the door.

“You ok with this?” Joe asked, willing to come and support his friend.

Bill smirked and shook his head. “Be right back.”

In the hall, Alan was red faced and looked like he was expecting Bill to throw a punch, but Bill put his arm around Alan’s shoulder and led him a few feet away from the door before speaking. Both men were about the same size, and both very physically fit.

“Look, Alan… we’re not kids anymore. We’re adults and as adults we should be able to understand that people are all different, right? And that what’s right for one person isn’t necessarily right for the next. Right?”

Alan was still flushed with adrenaline. “No. That kid was a freak in high school and he’s a freak now, too. You’re trying to make me out to be the bad guy while that sissy is traipsing around in girls’ clothes doing God knows what…”

Bill’s grip on Alan’s shoulders tightened a bit. “Ok, Alan, if common decency is beyond your comprehension, let’s try this… Connie is my friend… my very good friend… for the sake of this conversation, let’s just say that Connie is my brother… and he has been since before we were in kindergarten. No one… not you, not anyone… is going to say things about him in front of me. Especially not the things you just said. Understood?”

Alan pulled free of Bill. “Or what? Or you and Joe will beat me up? Are you serious? Like you said, we’re not in high school anymore. You can’t just tell me to meet you behind the gym after math class and we’ll settle things.”

“I’m not going to beat you up, Alan, and neither is Joe, but there are things that the legal system can do if need be. Just knock it off.” He turned to walk away.

“Yeah? You think so?” Alan called after him. “Maybe you need to check the current political temperature around here, Bill, because there are more people like me than people like you, and we’re not going to put up with a world full of pansies and boys who play dress-up in their sister’s clothes. We’re making this country great again, Bucko, and you need to get with the program… and so does your prissy little girlfriend.”

Without turning, Bill called back, “It’s still Massachusetts, Alan, and people here still have rights.”
 

 
Normally, Connor would connect his Bluetooth speaker, the one that sat on his desk, to his phone and listen to his podcasts while he worked, but that was in his ‘office,’ the half bedroom, but he was working in the living room that day, so he grabbed his AirPods and turned on the podcast. The two hosts were talking to a former cast member of their television show. They were telling very funny stories and Connor smiled as he listened and worked.

He was moving in his chair a bit more than usual. The smooth material he was wearing was so seductive that he moved just to feel it rub against his skin. It was a lovely feeling.

He was imagining going out in public like this. Having people see him in his new persona and wondering if people would accept him? Reject him? Find him cute? Attractive? Pretty?

Suddenly, he felt like listening to a little music. He began with ‘Roar’ by Katy Perry. He sang along with it at a moderate volume. Then he chose ‘Bitch’ by Meredith Brooks and he was a little louder. Then came ‘Reflection’ from Mulan by Christina Aguilera and he was singing along with it at the top of his lungs, enjoying the beautiful refrain, “Who is the girls I see, starting straight, back at me? Why is my reflection someone I don’t know…?” When he realized that he needed a file that was on his other desk. He stood, turned to leave the room, then screamed, “OH MY GOD!” at the top of his lungs when he realized that he was not alone. “What are you doing here!?” His heart was beating faster and louder than he could ever remember.

“Just taking in the new you,” Heather said, sitting on the couch, wearing a dark blue pant suit and a white blouse on her body and judgmental smirk on her face.

It was at that moment that Connor remembered how he was dressed. “I… I was just…”

“Just what?”

Connor stopped. “What a minute… I don’t have to apologize to you. This is my apartment. Why are you in here?”

“The door was unlocked. I knocked a few times, but no one answered. So, I just came up.”

“You’re supposed to ring the doorbell,” Connor snapped.

“I didn’t know there was a doorbell,” Heather smirked.

That was probably true. It hadn’t been there all that long and Heather was not a frequent visitor. The door must have been left unlocked when Mary and Amy left earlier.

“Still,” Connor said, still dealing more with the surprise of his sister being there than with the fact that he’d been caught dressed as he was, “why didn’t you tap me on the shoulder of something instead of lurking and spying on me?”

“I am certainly NOT lurking OR spying, Connie. I am sitting on the couch, watching my half-brother and employee work. I was fascinated by your new look, and I was listening to your singing. I was holding on until I heard ‘Man, I Feel Like a Woman,’ but it never came. Imagine how disappointed that made me. AND if you recall, you were only seventeen when I got this place for you, so my name is on the lease, too.”

“Yeah, well…” Connor sputtered, “we need to get your name off of that. I’ve been here for years and never once missed a payment or asked you for help. So…”

“That’s actually an excellent idea,” Heather agreed, “but be that as it may…” she used her hand to indicate Connor.

“Be that as it may… what?”

“What’s this all this about?” Heather asked, not getting up or sounding upset. “How long have you been dressing like a girl?”

“Oh… that…” Connor said, unconsciously touching his clothes. “It’s not what you think.”

“Was your hair and makeup done professionally?”

“Yes.”

“Is Toni aware that you are dressed this way?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s pretty much what I think. How long have you been living as a girl?”

Even though Heather had only occasionally worked in front of a jury, Connor still felt like he was being cross-examined. He glanced at the clock on his phone. It was just about noon time. “About eighteen hours, I guess.” 

“Eighteen hours!? Are you serious!?” She was nearly yelling.

“Yes,” Connor said, confused as to why telling the truth would get that kind of reaction.

Heather looked at her phone and checked an app that kept track of when her two employees logged in to work. She stood and showed the screen to Connor. “I assume then that you signed in and then went to a beauty parlor because it’s noon on a Monday and salons aren’t open on Sundays.”

Connor grabbed his phone and opened the doorbell app, calling up the recording that had been made at 8:56am that morning. He held the screen towards his sister/employer. “Look.”

“Ahh,” Heather nodded and smiled, watching Amy and Mary leaving the house with Mary’s toolbox in tow. “The beauty brigade came to visit. I get it. You were always one of the girls in that group, weren’t you? I bet they’re thrilled you took this final step.”

“It’s not like that,” Connor said. He then went on to explain what had happened the previous day – the exploding pressure cooker, the soiled clothes, Mary’s clothes not fitting him, etcetera – and he concluded with his decision to wear women’s clothing that day to see how he felt about it.

Heather nodded and stood. “So, this isn’t a political statement or anything like that?”

“A political statement?” Connor asked, wondering what she meant.

Heather let out one of her trademark sighs. “I guess you still aren’t watching the news, huh?”

“Not really. Just the weather sometimes.”

“Well, you picked a hell of a time to start exploring your feminine side, Connie. A hell of a time. Now… tell me what your plans are.”

“My plans?”

“Connie… you are my employee, and my clientele tends to skew more towards family values, so I need to know what your plans are.”

“I’m also your brother. Isn’t supporting me more important than threatening me? Isn’t that what family values are?”

Heather stood and sighed. “Number one: You are not my brother, you are my half-brother. Number two: Blindly supporting someone whose values are not aligned with yours just because you’re related to them isn’t an example of family values, it’s an example of stupidity. Number three: I am not a stupid person.”

She handed him the file full of paperwork she wanted him to complete. “This is for you. Call Julie and let her know when you’re done. You can drop off the originals or mail them back if you’d rather.”

He took the file and Heather headed towards the door. “Thanks for the support,” he said, crestfallen.

Heather turned and sighed. “Connie… I can’t support stupidity.” She wanted to leave but sensed there was a bit more to be said before she could.
 

 
As it turned out, The Squealing Pig was open, so Toni and Don were able to have Don’s favorite smokey seafood chowder for lunch that day. Most of P-Town was shut down, but a few stores were still open to accommodate the late season tourists and year-round residents. Most of the tourism in Massachusetts in October was in the western part of the state where leaf-peepers drove through The Berkshire Mountains to see the color.

Since the mid-twentieth century, Provincetown had been a safe haven for people who not only lived alternative lifestyles, but celebrated those lifestyles freely, openly and joyously. So there were several stores in P-Town that catered to the needs and eccentricities of some of those people.

As Toni sat at The Squealing Pig, she spotted an adult store across the street and thought that perhaps this might be a good time to explore some new aspects of her new relationship with Connie.

When they’d finished their meal, Toni excused herself to run a quick errand and ran across the road to make a few purchases.

Just a few minutes later, she was back in the restaurant with the bag rolled up so the name of the shop could not be seen by Don.

“Hey,” Don smiled as she sat with him again, “you left your phone, and it buzzed a bunch of times.” He passed it across the table. “Eventually I looked at it to be sure it wasn’t an emergency – or maybe you’d lost it and you were having someone call so it’d ring for you.”

“Oh. Ok. Thanks,” Toni replied, tucking the bag discreetly onto the chair next to her. She looked at the phone where she found picture after picture after picture of Connie from that morning. Connie getting his hair done. Connie getting his nails done. Connie getting his eyes done. Connie in patties and a bra. Connie in a lace trimmed slip. Picture after picture of her fiancé – her male fiancé, and that was kind of obvious in the picture of him in panties – being pampered and prettied by his friends. And there was a message from Amy that read: ‘Thought you might like to see what’s waiting for you when you get home. Connie is never going to be a he-man, but he sure is a babe! Talk later.’

Toni smiled and tried to act nonchalant as she put her phone back into her jacket pocket, but she did blush a little bit.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping coffee until Don asked, “So… are you ok?”

The question caught Toni off guard. “Am I ok? I’m fine. Why?”

Don sighed and looked around. “Look, Toni, my sister’s husband transitioned a few years ago and it put a lot of strain on their relationship. A LOT of stress. In fact, it eventually ended their marriage. So, if your fiancé is transitioning and you need any one to talk to… I’m here for you… and if you’d rather talk to another woman, my wife or my sister are available, too… but my sister may be a little bitter, still. Anyway, I just want you to know that you’re not alone. I bet there are even support groups…”

“Ok, Don, hold up,” Toni laughed, slightly nervously. “Look, I really, really appreciate your concern and I’m really sorry that your sister had such a tough time, but this thing with me and Connie, well… it’s all very new and we have no idea where it’s headed. In fact, it kind of got started by accident and it was really my idea to have him continue. I mean, I’m pretty sure that Connie likes it, but I don’t think he’d even have considered dressing a second time if I hadn’t asked him to. So… thank you, Don. I really appreciate it, but I think we’re fine.”
 

 
“He looked really cute,” Amy said to Mary on the other end of the phone connection. “You did such a good job on him, Mare. He could easily pass for a girl now, and he hasn’t even been in ‘girl mode’ for a full day yet. I know that God doesn’t make mistakes, but I have always thought that Connie was meant to be a girl.”

“I agree,” Mary said, chomping on her salad while holding her phone between her shoulder and her ear. “Ever since we were little girls, Connie was always one of us more than one of the boys. I’ve wanted to help him find himself – or find herself – for years.”

“Do you think that’s what attracted Toni to Connie in the first place?”

“What? You mean do I think that deep down Toni is a lesbian and she was really only attracted to Connie because he has an air of femininity about him even without the clothes, hair and makeup? No, the thought never crossed my mind.” Mary giggled at her own statement.

Amy laughed at her end.

“Seriously, though,” Mary said, swallowing the last of her salad and closing the off-brand Tupperware container she’d brought it in, “I think Toni was kind of prone to swinging either way. Maybe she would have found another guy, one that was nothing like Connie, or maybe she would have found a girl… who knows, but every summer, when Toni came to visit, she always wanted to see Connie first. I think she just loves Connie. You know, kinda like a fairy tale. They were really meant for each other and somehow, they found each other.”

“Yeah, but did you see the look on Toni’s face when we brought Connie out all dolled up yesterday? She was blown away. I could see it in her face. Her cheeks got all red. She likes him that way.”

“And that’s why I never go out without makeup on,” Mary laughed. “You’re right, though. She definitely does like him to look girly.”

“Hey, let’s meet at the mall after supper. We can do a little shopping for our new little sister.”
 

 
“So,” Heather said, sounding exhausted, judgmental, superior, and irritated that Connor was wasting her time, “this all began last night, and you may OR MAY NOT be considering presenting as a woman full time?”

“Well, I mean, I AM considering it, but I think I need to do it for a few days, or maybe more than that, before I make up my mind.”

Heather nodded and considered everything. “Connie… I need to ask you a question, and it’s not to be facetious or mean, ok?”

Connor shrugged. “Sure.”

Heather folded her arms, and she considered her words before taking a deep breath. “Why?”

“What?” Connor was confused by the simplicity and broadness of the question.

“Connie… come on! This is an important decision and you’re being very glib, very laissez-faire about the whole thing. Most trans people suffer through the decision process for years before coming out to the rest of the world, but you’re telling me that you accidentally ended up in a dress yesterday and now you’re considering changing everything about your life. So… yeah… why?”

Connor thought for a moment. “Well… I guess because… I’m not really sure how to say this, but… something happened to me when I saw how I looked when I dressed like this. It was like… suddenly my life made sense in a whole new way. Then, when I saw how everyone else looked at me… how everyone else treated me… then… then I thought that, maybe this is how I’m meant to look. Maybe I was really meant to be a girl, but… not fully a girl. Just… you know… look like a girl. All this… the soft, pretty clothes, the cute shoes, the nice hair, the pierced ears… this just feels right in a way that I never felt right before. Does that make sense?”

Heather nodded. “That was… a heck of an answer, Connie. Does it make sense? I don’t know.”

Her hand was on the doorknob when Connor said, “Heather? Why don’t you ever call me your brother?”

Heather let put a nervous chuckle. “Well, Connie, at the moment, you don’t look much like my brother.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Connor persisted. His fingers brushed the soft, rose covered material of his skirt, but this was a question about which he’d wondered for years. “Heather… you’re my sister and that is how I always refer to you. I’m your brother, but you always say ‘half-broher’ when you talk about me. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me – helping me get this apartment when mom passed away and giving me this job when cooking full time didn’t pan out for me, but… why can’t I just be your brother?”

Unfazed by his question, Heather replied in an even tone, “Because you ARE my half-brother, Connie.” She sighed, yet again, and it became obvious to Connor that this expression of frustration was directed at his thick headedness, not at the fact that he had just told her that her language was hurtful to him. “When mom married your father, I was pretty much exiled from the house, Connie. I don’t feel closely connected to you in the way that people are connected to their siblings. Now, I really do have feelings for you, but not like a brother. Like a nephew, or a stepbrother? Sure… I suppose. Do you understand what I mean?”

Connor nodded, sadly. It occurred to him to point out to his sister that perhaps, just perhaps, her inability to allow herself to love him as a brother may be connected to her horrendous track record as a spouse. He knew plenty of people in their late thirties who’d been married and divorced, and even a couple who’d married a second spouse, but three marriages and three divorces before officially entering middle age was a record held by Heather alone among his acquaintances. He wasn’t judging her, but he did wonder why she seemed to have never taken an introspective look at the reasons that she’d never had a relationship that lasted more than a few years. So, instead of attacking, or saying anything that may hurt his sister, Conner nodded and said, “I understand,” because he did.
 

 
“What smells so good?” Toni shouted from the front door of the apartment. She’d gotten home about forty-five minutes ahead of schedule, but as usual, everything was ready for her to sit down to dinner. 

“Salmon in garlic butter with pilaf and squash,” Connor called back.

Toni entered the small kitchen to find Connor dressed in the skirt and blouse that Amy and Mary had provided, as well as one of Connor’s usual cooking aprons. Nothing overly feminine about the apron, just a black kitchen apron that went over his head to rest on his neck and then tied around his waist. Generic. But when combined with the gold blouse and rose printed skirt, it was very feminine and very cute.

She strode up behind him and put her arms around him, giving him a hug and kissing his neck.

“Mmmm,” she moaned, “you smell better than the salmon, if that’s possible.” She gave him a squeeze, then ran her hands over his hips and buttocks as she released him. The soft material was exciting and the way the skirt flowed over the silky slip… even more so. “You look beautiful, babe. Thanks for getting all dressed up for me.”

Connor turned her way and smiled. “Thanks for saying so. It’s not like I had a real choice about it, though. I was just getting into the shower when I was accosted by Mary and her portable salon. Then Amy showed up with clothes and stuff and… well… this is the result.”

Toni smiled and chuckled. “I’ll go wash up and get ready for dinner.”

They ate the delicious salmon and chatted about the day. Connor mentioned that Heather had come by, but he didn’t go into detail about their conversation.

“What did she say about you looking the way you do?” Toni asked.

“Not much.”

That seemed odd to Toni, but she chose not to pursue any more inquiries. If Heather had said anything, Connor obviously didn’t want to share that. In fact, it seemed as if just mentioning his sister had brought a bit of a cloud over Connor.

“This is delicious,” Toni said, trying to lighten things up.

He smiled, glad that his work was being appreciated. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it.”

Then Toni had a thought. “Hey, Connie… after dinner, how about we take a ride over to the mall and get you some essentials. You know, some underwear of your own, or maybe some skirts or makeup, or whatever. You know, stuff that girls need. That might be fun, huh?”

Connor thought for a moment. “What if we run into someone we know?”

“Who cares?”

“Who cares? Toni, I’m wearing a dress and makeup…”

“And you look amazing. If we should run into someone we know, I’m sure they’ll be just as impressed as I am.”

Connor smiled at the compliment. Finally, he shrugged and said, “Ok. I guess I can’t keep relying on Mary and Amy for clothes, so… let’s go shopping.”
 

 
“Hey, Bill,” one of the department’s office assistants said as Bill was hanging up his office phone after talking to a client, “we just got a call from Jean Crowley in HR. She’d like to see you before the end of the day.”

“Ok, thanks,” Bill said.

“What do you suppose that’s all about?” Joe asked.

“I guess I’ll find out in a few minutes,” Bill said, standing. “I might as well go see her now. It’s nearly quitting time.” He grabbed his jacket and briefcase. “The girls say they’re going shopping tonight. Want to grab supper at The Skipper?”

A burger and a beer at their favorite local pub sounded good to Joe. “Sure. Sounds good.”

“It’s almost quitting time now, so why don’t you head over there and get us a table. I’ll be there asap.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Bill headed down the hall to the company’s HR office and knocked on the door of the HR Manager, Jean Crowley. When a voice invited him in, he entered and saw the very attractive, forty-something woman at her desk. “Hi, Jean,” Bill smiled. “You wanted to see me?”

She smiled and asked him to sit.

“Bill,” she started, looking a bit uncomfortable, “we received a rather disturbing report today from another employee stating that you… well… that you threatened him with physical harm.”

Bill sighed. “It was Crenshaw, wasn’t it?”

Jean nodded.

“Look, Jean, I didn’t threaten him. Before this morning’s meeting, Alan saw a picture of a friend of mine that my wife had sent to me, and… well… Alan said some pretty awful things about my friend. I asked to speak to him in the hallway, and I asked him to please knock it off.”

Jean nodded. “He mentioned a picture, too, but he said it was disgusting and…”

“Disgusting?” Bill laughed. “Jean, it was just a picture of my friend in a new outfit and with his hair and makeup done. Here, I’ll show you.” He continued speaking as he pulled out his phone and called up his wife’s text message. “If anything disgusting occurred this morning, it was what Alan said about Connie. Here it is.” He held up the phone with Connor’s picture on display. “See? It’s just Connie all dressed up with his hair and makeup done right for the first time.”

“Connie?” Jean asked, taking notes. “And that’s a picture of a male?”

“Well, yeah,” Bill said with a shrug. “Connie’s always been kind of… well… kind of a girl, I guess, and yesterday there was an accident and Connie ended up in a dress, and… well… we all kind of were surprised how good he looked and how natural he acted. I don’t know exactly what happened this morning, but my wife and Joe’s wife went over to his place and got him all done up correctly, and Joe and I got texts at the same time, and…”

“‘Done up correctly?’” Jean asked. “What do you mean by ‘correctly.’”

“You know…” Bill stuttered a bit. “Like a woman usually dresses. Or, at least like my wife, Amy, and Joe’s wife, Mary, always dress. It’s normal… or correct… for them.”

“And you support your friend’s decision to dress like a woman?”

 Bill felt that things were turning against him. “Umm… well… yeah. I mean… who am I to judge, right?” That felt wishy-washy, and that’s not how he wanted to sound. “No… I don’t mean that… I mean… Connie is my friend, and I have known him almost all my life, and if Connie chooses to present this way, then, yeah, I am going to support him one-hundred-percent. End of story.”

“So… are you saying that you did threaten Alan Crenshaw, but did it in defense of your transgender friend?”

“I didn’t say Connie was trans,” Bill said. “I don’t know if he… they… have made a decision about that or not. I said Connie is my friend, Alan said gross, horrible things about him and what he’d like to do to him, and I asked him to stop. No violence. No threats. Just asked him to not say those things about Connie. If you’d heard him, you’d have done the same.”

“So does this ‘Connie’ person go by ‘him’ or ‘they?’”

“What?”

“Well, you referred to this person as ‘they’ and then switched back to ‘him.’ Which is it?”

“I don’t know,” Bill said, confused and frustrated. “I never discussed pronouns with… Connie. What difference does it make? Alan made rude remarks, I asked him to stop. No threats. No physical interactions. Just a request, from one adult to another, asking for decent behavior. End of story.”

Jean nodded. “I understand. I just felt the need to play devil’s advocate to see if you’d stick to your story. Thank you, Bill.” She checked her watch. “I think we’re done for the day. Have a good evening.”

Bill stood. “So… are you on my side or Alan’s?”

“I’m on the company’s side, Bill, but I don’t think anything else will come of this. In the morning, I’ll tell Alan I spoke to you and ask him to not participate in that kind of behavior again. Ok?”

“Ok.” Bill was still uncertain about how things had actually gone in this meeting, but he was definitely ready to leave and go have a beer with Joe.
 

 
“I have no idea,” Connor replied to Toni’s question about size. They stood in front of a display of white cotton panties in the Kohl’s Department Store Women’s department surveying the choices. “I guess I wear the same size as Mary because that’s what I have on. Maybe we should call her.

Toni nodded and pushed Mary’s number in her Contacts list and was shocked to hear Mary’s phone ringing a few aisles away. She knew it was her cousin’s phone because Mary assigned different ringtones to different people and Mary’s choice of ringtone for Toni was the angular, choppy introduction to Lady GaGa’s ‘You and I.’ That was what caught her attention.

“Hi,” Mary answered cheerily.

“Are you at Kohl’s?” Toni asked without any ‘hello.’

“Yeah. I’m looking for a jacket for that pretty boyfriend of yours. Why? Where are you?”

“A couple of aisles away. Looking at panties for Connie.”

“Panties!? Here!?” Mary sounded panicked. “Stay where you are. We’re on the way.” Immediately she rounded a conner into the main aisle, just a couple of dozen feet away from Toni and Connor. “You don’t buy panties here!” She said way too loudly. “You buy jackets and slacks, or a dress for a funeral here! Not panties!” They arrived at the underwear display and looked a bit upset with Toni.

“Why not?” Toni asked. “I buy mine here.”

“Oh, my God!” Mary said, horrified. “Why would you do that? I only use panties like this if I’m on my period of recovering from surgery!”

Toni snickered at the melodramatic performance of her cousin. Hair, clothes and makeup have always been a big deal to Mary. “I apologize for my foolishness,” Toni said, teasing.

“Well, I should think so!” Mary said, taking Connor’s hand in hers. “Don’t ever take fashion advice from Toni, Connie. You have Amy and me for that.”

Even Amy was giggling at that. She was holding a puffy, winter jacket that was a soft lilac color. “Here,” she said, handing the jacket to Connor. “See if this fits.”

As he slipped his arms in, Toni asked, “So where do we get him underwear?”

“Lingerie, you mean?” Mary asked, shocked by Toni’s faux pas. “At Victoria’s Secret, of course,” she said with a tinge of both sadness and disgust in her voice. “I always thought that Victoria’s Secret was just a clever name. I never realized it was actually a secret that we were all keeping from you.”

It was just a joke and even Toni laughed at it.

“The jacket fits perfectly,” Amy said.

“It’s kind of heavy for October,” Connor said, taking it off.

“Yes, but they won’t have any in the store in a few weeks when you need it,” Amy pointed out.

“I don’t know if I’ll be wearing these kinds of clothes in a few weeks,” Connor said, feeling as if he should at least put up some sort of resistance, even if he didn’t really want to.

“Oh, don’t be silly, of course you will be,” Mary said dismissively. “You’re a hundred times cuter in dresses than all those ugly boys’ clothes you always wore before. Come on, let’s find you a nice polar fleece or something like that to wear outside now. Then we’ll head over to Victoria’s Secret and Forever 21 and get you some nice dresses, blouses and skirts. This store sells good quality clothes, but aside from a few things, it’s all stuffy and frumpy.”

Connor nodded, not knowing what else to do. It seemed as if Mary had all of this planned out, and that was ok with him.

“Should I help or just go sit in the car?” Toni asked.

“Why don’t you go hang out with Bill and Joe at The Skipper. Monday is free wings night there and there’s some kind of a game on the TV. We’ll meet you there when we’re done.”

“Sounds good,” Toni smiled, relieved to not have to go into someplace as overtly feminine as Victoria’s Secret. She was perfectly happy being a female, but she had never been into the whole silk and lace thing that Amy and Mary seemed to enjoy so much. Cotton briefs, a reducing bra, a cotton tee shirt and loose-fitting jeans were her everyday dress code and if she needed to dress up at all, a nice pair of slacks and a loose oxford shirt would do nicely.

She bent and kissed Connor’s soft, hairless check. “See you in a bit.”
 

 
“No, I don’t think you know him,” Bill explained to Toni after having told her how his work day had begun and ended. “We knew him from school, but we didn’t hang around with him or anything like that.”

“Well, what business is it of his how Connie wants to dress?” Toni asked, sipping on her bottle of Sam Adams.

“That’s the point Bill was making,” Joe said. “The problem is, this kind of demand for conformity is now the chant of the people currently in control of the country, and enforcing their views on others is the norm. I bet that Alan could find plenty of people in our company to support his rude behavior. It’s how the world is right now.”

“Well, that’s pretty sucky,” Toni said, taking another small swig. “I mean, look at me. I dress like this all the time and no one has a problem with it.”

“Oh, I bet plenty of people have a problem with it,” Bill laughed. “Its just more common for women to ditch their dainty clothes than for men to put them on.”

“Sure,” Joe agreed. “My cousin is involved with this super-church out in Kansas and their membership has a really strict dress code. Men wear long sleeved dress shirts and slacks in muted colors and women wear dresses and skirts only. It’s really strict, too. They live in a house that they rent from the church, on church property, and if they violate the church’s code of ethics, which includes the dress code, out they go. Mom, dad, kids… tow the line or you’re homeless.”

“That’s nuts!” Toni said.

Bill held up his bottle of beer in a toast gesture. “Welcome to the new USA,” he said. No one clinked his bottle with theirs.
 

 
“Oh, that’s sooo cute on you!” Amy said when Connor stepped out of a dressing room wearing a dusty mauve, loose short sleeved, knee length dress with a wide, high elastic waist and a wide fringe around the hem. It had a kind of western feel to it, but not so much that it required cowgirl boots with it.

“It really is adorable,” Mary agreed. “A nice gold chain or some bright beads and maybe some fun bangles and you could wear that anywhere.”

Because he had gone shopping with these two women many, many, many times, Connor understood that words like ‘cute’ and ‘adorable’ were compliments and not demeaning terms. They meant that the girls really liked how they looked.

“I think I’ll take it,” Connor said, “but I think we need to call it quits for tonight. Between the four stores we’ve visited, I will have spent over three hundred dollars, and I didn’t budget for this kind of spending.”

“Uh, you’re no fun,” Mary said dramatically. “Connie, you’ve gone shopping with us hundreds of times, but this is the first time that we’ve ever been able to pick out clothes for you! We’ve always wanted to do this!”

“I understand,” Connor laughed, “but I’VE always wanted to be financially solvent, so I need to stop now and let my Visa card cool off for a while.”

“Ok,” Amy said, a more reasonable voice than Mary. “I’ll pay for these things,” she pointed at a pile of four dresses, “and you can take care of these. Ok?”

Connor smiled. “That’s very generous of you, but…”

“My treat!” Amy insisted.

“And I’ll pay for these,” Mary insisted, pointing at some other items. “Go get changed and we can go meet the boys.”
 

 
“Oh, geez,” Bill said, sounding frustrated, “look who is here.” He bobbed his head towards the other side of the pub where Alan Crenshaw was entering with a friend.

“Just ignore him,” Joe suggested.

“That’s him?” Toni asked. “The prick that said those things about Connie?”

“Yeah,” Bill nodded. “Maybe we should leave.”

“Don’t be crazy,” Joe scoffed. “We can all be adults here. Just ignore him. I’m sure he’ll ignore us. And besides, the girls just called to say they’re on the way. I’m going to order some more wings for them.”

He waved for the waitress to come back to the table, ordered the wings, two beers, one each for Amy and Mary, and a seltzer with lime for Connor, who never enjoyed alcoholic beverages.

As the waitress left the table, he saw the ‘girls’ entering the pub. He waived for them and they crossed to join the ‘boys’ at the table.

“Hey, girls,” Bill said, which was the customary welcome when those three arrived together. “I don’t see any bags… no luck?”

“Oh, we did very well,” Amy laughed, kissing his cheek. “We put everything into Toni’s truck on the way over here.”

“Hey,” Toni said, sounding surprised as she looked at her boyfriend, “did you get your ears pierced?” She moved the hair on the right side of Connor’s flowing hair and smiled. “Diamond studs. They’re beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Connor said. “Mary did them this morning.”

‘Oops. Sorry I didn’t notice before,” Toni apologized.

“Typical guy,” Amy teased.

“They are pretty,” Mary smiled, “but they’re just faux diamonds. Just keep them in her ears for the next two weeks, cleaning her lobes with alcohol at least once a day. After the wounds have healed, she can wear grown up earrings. Pearls, diamonds, studs, chandeliers… whatever makes her feel prettiest.”

Connor had been ‘one of the girls’ his whole life, but hearing his friend refer to him as ‘her’ and ‘she’ was odd and kind of exciting. He had to admit he liked it. He was fitting in in a whole new way.

They sat and ate their wings and drank their drinks and talked to ‘the boys.’

After an hour or so, Amy announced, “I need to use the ladies’ room.”

She stood, and Mary automatically stood as well. Nothing unusual there, but then Mary grabbed Connor’s hand and pulled him up. “Come on, Connie. We need to go to the ladies’ room.”

“What?” Connor said, surprised. “I don’t need to…”

“Of course you do,” Mary said, rolling her eyes. “Connie, when a girl goes to the ladies’ room, her friends go with her. Why?” She asked, anticipating his question, “Because there’s safety in numbers and because we always take every opportunity to fix our faces after a meal. So, come on.”

“But I’m not…”

“Are you saying you’d rather use the men’s room? Because I think that might be more conspicuous than using the ladies’ but if that’s what you want…”

“Ok, ok,” Connor said, resigned.

They walked to the end of a hallway in the back of the pub where Connor was relieved to see that there was a men’s room, a ladies’ room and a ‘family’ restroom. They peaked in there and found a room approximately ten feet by eight feet where an adult could deal with a child, or a differently-abled person.

“Perfect,” Amy announced. “Mare, why don’t you do Connie’s makeup first, then we can each use the commode.”

So, that’s what happened. “First Mary touched up Connor’s makeup, then they exited the room while Amy used it. Then Mary. Then Connor entered the family restroom.

Then, something unexpected happened.

Two police officers, one a very fit man, the other a very fit woman, hustled down the hallway towards them. They didn’t engage either woman, though. Instead, the male officer banged on the door to the ladies’ room. “Alright,” he called in, “come on out. You know you’re not supposed to be there. Let’s go!”

The door opened and an older, but very attractive woman in her sixties opened the door and looked at the officer indignantly. “What is the meaning of this?” She demanded.

The police officer glanced at her, then looked past into the lavatory. “Is anyone else in there?”

“Yes,” the woman said, angry. “There’s another woman in the third stall. Why?’

The male officer looked at his partner and bobbed his head in the direction of the room. The female officer nodded and went into the ladies’ room.

At that moment, Connor exited the family restroom and looked at the small crowd that was gathering in the hallway. “What’s going on?” He whispered to Mary.

“No idea,” she said.

The female officer reemerged from the ladies’ room and shook her head. “Nope. It’s a woman.”

The male policeman shook his head, then pressed the button on the microphone attached to the left side of his chest. “This is 1152. Do you have a phone number on that call about a man in the ladies’ room at The Skipper Pub?”

The person on the other end of the conversation took a moment, then read him ten numbers, which he punched into his cell phone. Then he walked out of the hallway, back into the pub’s barroom and pressed the ‘call’ button. A few tables away, a phone rang and Alan Crenshaw picked up his phone and answered the call.

“Hello?”

The police officers headed towards his table.

“Hello?” Alan asked again.

Suddenly a police officer was standing right in front of him. “Did you call in a prank call to the 911 emergency line, sir?”

“Prank?” Alan asked, confused. “No. I called because a guy was in the ladies’ room.”

“Uh oh,” Joe said, looking over Bill’s shoulder at the commotion.

“What?” Bill replied looking in the direction of the commotion Joe was witnessing.

“The police are talking to Crenshaw. This can’t be good.”

“Sir,” the male officer said to Alan, “we responded within three minutes of your call and there were no men in the ladies’s room.”

“I inspected the room myself,” the female office contributed.

“Yeah, well I guess you two don’t know how to do your job very well, because…”

“Enough,” the male officer stopped him.

At that moment, Bill reached his wife and whispered, “Get Connie out of here. This could get ugly.”

‘What?” Amy asked, thoroughly confused.

“Just go. Take her to our house and I’ll meet you at there.”

“But…”

“Just go. I’ll explain later.”

Amy grabbed Connor’s hand and led him towards the door. Mary followed.

“Calling in a false 911 call is a serious offense, sir,” the officer continued. “Now, I’m inclined to just give you a warning right now, but if you’re going to persist, I will make sure you’re standing in front of a judge at nine o’clock tomorrow morning. Am I making myself clear?”

“But you’re not listening…”

“No, sir, you’re not listening. If you say another word, I will take you in right now and you can tell the judge whatever you’d like to tell him tomorrow morning. Are we on the same page, sir?”

Alan nodded, frightened.

The police officer nodded as well, staring Alan down a few moments longer. Then he departed, followed by his partner.

Alan watched them leave, then looked around the room where he spotted Joe and Bill and a tall, mannish looking woman looking at him, shaking their heads from side to side. They turned and left as well.

At that point, Alan decided that someday soon he was going to wipe those smug expressions off their faces.
 
 
To Be Continued...

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...

Found Family: Chapter 4 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: Another chapter has duly arrived and we find Connor and Heather are squabbling. Will Connor find a way out of this mess? Then, please dear reader, march forth and see! Make sure you all are staying healthy too! And, If you feel so inclined, please let me know how this story is going? ~Clara.

Image Credit: https://perchance.org/beautiful-people
 
 
Chapter 4
“Family isn’t always blood. It’s the people in your life who want you in theirs. The ones who accept you for who you are. The ones who would do anything to see you smile, and who love you no matter what.”  ~ Maya Angelou
 
 
“Look, Connie,” Julia said quietly, after hearing the entirety of the story about Connor’s friends’ legal concerns and the role that her boss, Connor’s step-sister, Heather, played in all of it, “there’s not a ton I can do, because, as you know, I’m not privy to everything that happens in the office, but if I hear anything that I can ethically tell you, I promise, I will pass it along to you.”

“Thanks, Julia,” Connie smiled, his teeth dazzlingly white, framed in the bright red color of his lipstick. “That means a lot to me.”

She checked the time on her phone. “Oh, geez, we’ve been here for almost two hours. Which means that neither of us has entered a keystroke in two hours. I doubt that Heather will check the record, but we should probably get back to work soon.”

Connie nodded. “Ok. Hey… Julia…” Connie struggled to figure out what he wanted to say but only came up with “…thanks.”

Julie smiled. “You don’t need to thank me, Connie. I know you’ve been through a lot over the years and I… well… I should have thought more about that. I’m sorry I didn’t. I guess that I never thought about it until we got talking about clothes the other day. Since then, I’ve been thinking a lot about you. If I can help at all, I will.”
 

 
It was three days later that Connor’s phone chimed. It was sitting to the left of his keyboard as he worked. Typically, Connor would not answer a call during the workday, but the caller ID read ‘Heather,’ so he pushed the ‘accept’ button.

“Hello?” He said.

“You’ve been looking for me, I understand,” his half-sister’s voice said testily.

“I have…” Connor said. Heather cut him off before he could continue.

“If this is about the summonses I sent to your little buddies, then there is nothing to discuss. I will run my business as I see fit. You are my billing clerk. That is all. You have no say in how I run my practice. Understood?”

Connor sighed. Heather could be very difficult. Engaging in an argument was never productive. “I understand that,” he finally was able to interject, “but could we possibly just sit down and have a discussion about all of this?”

“A discussion?” Heather chuckled. “Why? This impacts you in no way.”

“That’s not true,” Connor said. “I was approached by Capeways Concepts’ attorney, and he may be calling me to testify at the hearing.”

“You?” She sounded genuinely surprised. “Why would he call you?”

“Because it was a photo of me on Bill and Joe’s phones that began all of this nonsense. Somehow, I became part of all this craziness without doing a thing.”

“Nothing except getting all dolled up and looking like a girl,” Heather pointed out. “You’re not blameless in all of this, Connie.” She paused a moment. Connor considered stating that his actions were in no way meant to provoke anyone and wouldn’t have provoked anyone who wasn’t an asshole and a pig like Alan Crenshaw, but he knew that would end up with Heather hanging up on him. “Alright,” Heather finally said. “Come by at four. We’ll talk.”

The line went dead before he could say anything.
 

 
“Bill is really concerned about all this court stuff,” Amy said to Mary as they spoke over the phone, each munching on the salads that they’d made themselves for lunch. “He says that he doesn’t have a ton of faith in this Wexler guy, and that he absolutely will not allow Connie to testify.”

“He may not have a choice,” Mary said. “If Wexler says that Connie has to appear, then Connie has to appear. Joe doesn’t want to have him involved either, but I keep telling him that he may not have any say in the matter. Yeah, there are a lot of good companies around, but how many are on The Cape and have as much growth potential as this one? I’d hate to see him have to leave.”

“I feel the same. I mean, I love living here so close to you guys and Connie and Toni. I don’t want to leave just so Bill can find a job.”

“I agree,” Mary said and heaved a very heavy sigh. “I guess we’ll just have to hope for the best.”

“I guess.”
 

 
“I must say, Ms Miller,” Michelle Fry, the office manager at the medical office of Dr. James Williamson, said, looking at Connor’s resume, “your work experience is fairly limited, but you have been using the same billing software that we use here, so that’s a plus. Also, the office manager at your previous position gave you a very positive recommendation. So, I just need to check your references and chat with your previous employer, and you’ll be hearing from me in a day or two. How does that sound?”

“Ummm…” Connor thought for a moment. “Look, Ms Fry, Attorney Bentley isn’t my ‘previous’ employer. She’s my current employer and, well, to be honest, she’s also my sister, so I don’t want her to find out that I’m looking for a new job by getting a phone call from you. And also, after I tell her, she’s going to be pretty peeved about it. So… I’m not sure she’s going to give me a very good recommendation.”

Ms Fry nodded. “I understand, but I do need to contact her at some point just as a matter of procedure. I hope you understand, Ms Miller.”

Connor nodded slowly. “I do. I am meeting with Heather about other things this afternoon. I’ll tell her, but… I don’t know how good a recommendation she may give me. I promise you, though… I do my job really well, I’m never late to start my work, and in the time I’ve worked for my sister, I have only taken one full day off and that was because I needed to see a dentist because of a bad toothache.”

Ms Fry nodded. “Understood.” She stood and offered a hand to shake. “I’ll be in touch, Ms Miller.”

Connor stood but did not immediately accept her hand. “Ummm… just to be very clear, Ms Fry… I am a man. I have begun presenting as a woman pretty recently, but I am a man.”

Ms Fry nodded again and gave out a bit of snicker. “I’m sorry that I laughed, Ms… Mr Miller, it’s just… well… I saw that your name was male and there are a few other things on your resume that indicate that you were brought up male, but, please pardon me for being so blunt, there is absolutely nothing masculine in your appearance. So, I just assumed you’d rather use feminine pronouns. I apologize if I was wrong.”

“Oh, no, no,” Connor said. “I’m fine with whatever pronouns you’d like to use. I just didn’t want there to be any confusion.”

Ms Fry nodded again. “Ok. As long as no one is offended, then no harm done, right? Connor, if your hired, then your day-to-day work can be done remotely from your home. So, you’d only come into the office for an occasional meeting or something unexpected. As long as you are doing your job well, you can present any way you’d prefer. I do appreciate your frankness, but your personal life is absolutely NONE of my business, nor the business of anyone else who works here. Ok?”

Finally, Connor took her hand and shook it. “Ok. Thank you, Ms Fry.”
 

 
 “Hey, hey, hey,” Don said as he reviewed Toni’s figures on their report. “You didn’t add in the slope levels here. Do you have them on your tablet?”

Toni shook her head, frustrated with herself. This was not like her. She always submitted very concise reports. “Sorry.” She scrolled thru her notes. “Yeah. Here they are.”

“No need to be sorry,” Don said, sympathetically. “You obviously have a lot on your mind. Anything you want to talk about?”

‘No,” Toni said, but then immediately started talking. “It’s just… well… Connie sent me a text awhile ago that has me a little… wound up, I guess.”

Don looked concerned. In all the time that he and Toni had been working together, she’d never once complained about Connie. “I hope everything is ok with you two.”

“Oh, it’s fine between us,” Toni laughed nervously. “Nothing like that. It’s just… well… he’s going to see his sister this afternoon to kinda have it out with her and I’m… I’m just concerned, I guess. Connie’s never really confronted anyone about anything. He just sort of… I don’t know… rolls with things, I guess. He takes things as they come and never gets upset. This is a different kind of meeting for him and… I’m just worried, I guess.”

Don nodded. “I get it.” He thought for a moment, then checked his watch. “Hey, you want to head back towards the office? We can finish this up there and that way you can be closer to Connie in case he needs your help.”

Toni sighed. “That’d be great, Don. Thanks.”
 

 
“Honestly, Ms Fry,” Julia said through the phone to the office manager at Dr Williamson’s office, “I cannot give you a higher recommendation for Connie and if you call any of these four people, they will confirm what I’ve told you. My boss is probably going to be spiteful and say bad things, but Connie is the best. Honestly. I wouldn’t have called you again if he wasn’t.”

“Hmmm,” Ms Fry mused. “This is a bit unusual, I must say, Julia, especially since these names you’ve passed along are not employers, but friends, but… I am very impressed that you would take the initiative to call me back and have this discussion. Can you tell me why you chose to call me?”

Julia sighed. “Well, to tell you the truth… I feel like Connie deserves a break. See… I’ve been Ms Bentley’s receptionist for quite some time, and I remember when Connie first came to work here. He was kind of a lost soul and just wanted to do great job for his sister, and… to be very honest…I took advantage of him. I passed more and more work off on him until… well… let’s just say that I feel pretty bad about how I treated him until recently.”

“So, you’re trying to make amends?”

“I… I’m trying to do the right thing. I feel like… like… like if I don’t help Connie out, then my boss will sabotage any chance he has of ever getting a good job somewhere else. So… yeah… that’s why I called.”

There was a long silence.

Then:

“I think I understand,” Ms Fry said. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll call Mr Miller back and have another chat with him. Maybe I’ll feel comfortable enough to make a decision without talking to your boss.”

“That would be great.”

“No promises, but… maybe.”
 

 
Connor pulled his fashionable little jacket a little tighter as he walked across the parking lot next to Heather’s law office. It had been a very warm autumn thus far, but the temps had started falling as the last week of October began. It wasn’t just the chill, though; it was his nerves making him shiver just a bit. He’d never really had an argument with Heather before. He may have tried to make a point about something here and there, but on the whole, he’d usually just let her have her way.

Julia met him at the door. “You ready?” She asked.

“I think so,” Connor replied nervously.

She took his jacket. “You look great,” she said, taking in his outfit, a pale orange, soft looking dress with sleeves that puffed out at the shoulders and met long, buttoned cuffs a bit above his wrists. The bodice was blousy and open at the throat, showing enough skin to hint that there may be small, pert breasts beneath. The dress had a pretty, narrow, black belt at the waist and a very wide, also blousy skirt that fell just below his knees. He wore high heeled riding boots that were never designed to enter a stirrup but was the height of fall fashion.

“Thanks,” he replied.

Julia hung up the jacket, then turned and hugged her friend. “Good luck,” she whispered.

He chuckled. “Thank you. I need some.”

Julia moved to her desk and pressed a button on her phone.

“Yes?” Heather’s voice came through the speaker.

“Your four o’clock is here,” Julia said.

“Send him in.”

They walked to the office door. “Take a deep breath.” Julia said.

Connor did and then let it out.

“Ready?”

Connor nodded.

Julia opened the door, and Connor entered the office, his heart beating hard in his chest.
 

 
“This is ridiculous,” Bill said to Joe. He had been filling out questionnaires sent to them both from the firm’s lawyer for more than an hour and had had enough. “I was very polite when I asked Crenshaw to come out into the lobby so I could speak to him privately. HE had been the rude jerk, and HE was the one who raised his voice, drawing attention.”

“I know. And he was the leader of that group of jerks who attacked Phil when they got here,” Joe agreed.

“And yet, we are the ones spending our days filling out these stupid questionnaires.”

Joe nodded. “Such is life.”

Bill stopped shuffling the papers and pushed everything away from himself on the desk. “Joe… this lawyer… Wexler… he seems bound and determined to call Connie into the hearing as a witness of some kind.”

“Yeah,” Joe said, also ceasing his questionnaire activity. “He does. I think he might even do it just to put Heather into a compromising position, pso she’ll have to bow out of the case.”

There were a few moments of silence before Bill spoke again. “I don’t want hm involved, Joe. I don’t want Connie called. He didn’t do anything and… Joe, Connie has been a quiet, private person his entire life. I feel like this would be kind of like outing him, you know?”

Joe nodded. “I know exactly, Bill, but… I mean… it’s not going to be a full-blown trial and everyone there will already be aware of how Connie presents. If Wexler demands it… what can we do?”

“We can say ‘no,’ Joe. We can put our feet down and just not allow it.”

“Yeah,” Joe said quietly, “but… I really don’t want to lose my job, Bill. I like it here and I like the future this company offers.”

More silence.

“So…” Bill said, “you’d throw Connie under the bus to keep your job?”

“I didn’t say that,” Joe said insistently. “Look, Bill… none of this is fair, but… well… let’s just hope that it doesn’t come to that. Ok?”

“And if it does?”

“Let’s just hope it doesn’t. Can we leave it at that for now?”
 

 
“You can sit,” Heather said without looking up, but indicating several chairs and a loveseat in her office as she continued to review the paperwork in front of her.

Connor sighed, then sat in the chair closest to the desk.

“What can I do for you?” She asked, still not looking up.

“You can stop pretending to be too busy to talk to me and look at me,” Connor said, his heart beating so hard that he would not have been surprised if Heather could see his heart pumping through his dress.

“Look, Connie, I am busy… very busy, and I don’t have time to…” she finally looked up and saw her half-brother dressed as he was, with age appropriate, very fashionable clothes and makeup. “Huh…” was her only remark.

“What does that mean?” Connor asked

“Just ‘huh,’” Heather remarked as she continued to look.

When nothing else was being said, Connor began speaking. “Look, Heather, I’m not trying to overstep my boundaries as an employee, but why…”

“You look like mom,” Heather interrupted.

“What?” Connor was caught off guard.

Heather reached into a drawer, searched for a moment, then produced a photo of her father and their mother on their honeymoon, over forty years earlier. She showed Connor the photo. “You look like mom,” she restated. “I didn’t see it before, but you do.”

Connor looked at the photo, a photo he’d never seen before. There was an uncanny similarity between the woman in the picture and the way he, Connor, currently presented himself. “I’ve never seen this picture before.”

“Of course not,” Heather said, returning the photo to the drawer. “You wouldn’t expect mom to have photos of her ex sitting around her home, would you.” Any kindness she may have shown before was gone then and her voice was cold and hard and dismissive once again. “So… what is it you’re so eager to say?”

Connor shook his head and looked at her as he regrouped his thoughts. Heather’s sudden change of attitude and tone was difficult for him to navigate.

“If you just wanted to show me today’s costume, I’ve seen it. So, you can leave,” she spat as she returned her attention to her paperwork.

Connor took a deep breath, opened his purse and pulled out a letter, laying it out neatly on top of the paperwork on heather

“What’s this?”

“It’s my resignation letter.”

Heather opened it and gave it a glance. She laughed quietly. “You’re quitting? How do you plan to survive? Where do you intend to live?”

“I have another job,” he said firmly. He had decided to resign regardless of whether or not he got the job at the doctor’s office, but Ms Fry had called just before he’d arrived and said she’d decided to take a chance on him and he could start there as soon as he was able to leave his current job. “And I intend to continue living right where I live now.”

Heather snickered again. “I pay the rent there.”

“From my share of mom’s estate,” he said firmly. “That’s my money not yours.”

“It’s not yours until you’re twenty-five. That was agreement when you signed the agreement.”

“I was seventeen. I’m twenty-two now. I’m sure that I could talk to another lawyer who could get me access to that money if I needed it, but the truth is that I am not planning on challenging you on that matter right now. I can wait a few more years.”

“My name is on the lease.”

“I’m planning to talk to the landlady this evening, Heather. I’m sure she’ll understand.”

“Not if I get involved.”

“But you won’t.”

“Oh? Why won’t I?”

Connor sighed. “Because you and I are brother and sister and we love each other. Neither of us would do something like that to the other.”

“Connor,” Heather sat straighter, “the administration of mom’s will is business for me – not something personal. Now, if I decide that I want to continue to lease that apartment as a business item, then I can. That’s business.”

He shook his head. “Throwing your brother out of his apartment because your ego is bruised is business? Come on, Heather. You wouldn’t do that.”

“We’ll see,” Heather shrugged. “What else?”

Connor shifted just a bit and gathered his strength. “I’d like to talk about why you choose to take a case that targets my friends.”

“No. I won’t discuss that.”

“Why? You turn down cases all the time. Why would you take this one?”

Heather let out an exasperated grunt. “Ok. Just this once, I will tell you why – and this is not a discussion. I took the case for two reasons. Number one, I think that Mr Crenshaw’s employment and that of his colleagues was terminated illegally. They responded viscerally to a situation they found uncomfortable, and the company’s Human Resources Department did not try to mediate but rather terminated. That is not the proper way to end someone’s employment. Number two, there is a lot of money in play here, Connor, and if I get these men their jobs back, or if I am able to get them ample compensation, there is a very healthy payday for me. Now, that may sound a bit mercenary to you, Connor, but I am running a business here, and I need to bring in money.”

She paused just a moment before continuing.

“I will accept your resignation as effective immediately.” She looked at him. “You may go.”

Connor was shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? Money. You’d throw my friends, and possibly me under the bus for money? Heather, I have been doing the billing and making deposits for this firm for years. You have plenty of money. You could retire today and have a nice nest-egg to live off for years. I am…” he struggled for words “… disappointed, I guess.”

“Well, too bad,” she scoffed. “Connor, you only have yourself to blame for ALL of this. If YOU hadn’t dressed up for some kind of game, none of this would have happened. If YOU and your little friends weren’t passing around cutesy little photos of you dressed up like some kind of a little fairy, then your friends wouldn’t be in this mess. If the government has their way, all of this trans-nonsense will be illegal in a few months. Maybe then you’ll realize how stupid playing this game of yours really is!” She’d gotten very worked up and her doughy, pale face had gone red.

“Game!?” Connor snapped, his voice raised for maybe the first time in his life. “Exactly what game am I playing, Heather?”

“Your dress-up game, Connor. Your ‘oh look how pretty I am now’ game, Connor. The game that you seem to be enjoying so much since one of those two girls you’ve been waaaaaay to close to since you were a child decided to put you in a dress.”

Connor turned to the door, crossed and opened it just a little. He had intended to leave but then changed his mind.

When he spoke his voice was controlled, but quivering a bit.

“You’re right Heather… the girls put me in a dress and did my hair and makeup. Not for the reasons that you think though. My clothes were ruined, and I had no others, but… but… but… Heather… when Mary showed me how I looked in the mirror, I didn’t see myself dressed in a costume, or wearing someone else’s clothes. Heather, I don’t expect you to understand this, but… for the very first time in my life… I saw… me. The real me. The me I should have been but was too cowardly to go looking for. The me that I’d dreamed of being without ever realizing it. Me, Heather. For the very first time… just… me. Can you understand that?”

She smirked, almost laughing at him. “No. No, I don’t.” She stood and walked around her desk. “Connor, when you wake up in the morning, you’re a boy. When you go to sleep at night, you’re a boy, too. Nothing’s going to change that, Connor. Nothing. I’m a woman, Connor. I was born a woman, and I will die a woman. Nothing will change that, and I am perfectly happy with that.”

Connor nodded. “Well… congratulations,” he said. “Aren’t you lucky that you’ve had an easy ride to this point. That, no matter what else goes wrong, you can at least be happy about that. I am so glad that when you were nine, eleven, thirteen years old, you were able to grow up in exactly the way that you expected. The way that your friends did. That’s wonderful for you.”

Heather almost spoke, but he continued in such a measured and controlled manner that she held her tongue.

“That wasn’t my experience, Heather. When I was little, I had no interest in what the boys were doing. I didn’t want to climb trees. I didn’t want to throw a ball well. I tried, but I really didn’t want to. I wanted to learn what Mary and Amy were learning. I wanted to learn how to be something – someone - like them. Imagine what it is like for a child – a child, Heather – a child with no real understanding of the world – having to watch his friends grow up to become something he could never be. And I’m not just talking about Mary and Amy. I’m talking about Bill and Joe, too. Heather, by the time I was in fourth grade I knew that I’d never be big and strong and sturdy. And I was ok with that. I never wanted that. What I wanted was to be like my best friends. Like Mary and Amy. I wanted to be like a girl, Heather. I still can’t even put int words what I wanted to be, but I wanted to be me, just more like a girl, too. So that people would stop making fun of me and just accept me. I used to pray every night that God would perform a miracle of some kind and that I would wake up to find that I’d become more like a girl. At least enough like a girl so that everyone would just leave me alone and let me be happy being me. Do you have any idea how painful that is for someone to suffer through all that?”

“Do have any idea how ridiculous that all sounds, Connor?” Heather asked using the most dismissive tone.

Connor shook his head, defeated. “You know, Heather… I’ve always loved and respected my big sister. I knew that you would never love me, but I did hope that we’d at least find a way to mend the fences between us, but…” He shrugged. “I guess you don’t have any interest in that, though.” He shrugged again. “So… goodbye, Heather. I hope you find some happiness.” He turned to leave.

Heather said behind him. “I’m very happy, Connor, thank you very much.”

He opened the door but stopped before stepping through. “I’m afraid that you actually think that you really are happy,” Connor said, looking her in the eye. “And if that’s true, then that makes me even sadder.” He left the office and closed the door behind him.
 

 
The Heritage Museum and Gardens is a stunning collection of classic cars in a purpose-built building that is surrounded by acres of a beautiful and vibrant assortment of plants. By late October, though, those plants had faded and passed.

The museum, however, has twenty-six beautiful classic cars, all of which have been restored to their original glory. Ever since they were old enough to become members of The Heritage Foundation, Connor and his friends had happily paid their yearly dues so they could stop by and see the flowers and cars whenever they desired. Connor loved the flowers when they were in bloom, but his favorite car was a 1930 Duesenberg  Model J Durham Tourister. It had a bright lemon-yellow chassis with pastel green fenders, dark green leather seats and a canvas convertible top.

It was a breathtaking car.

Besides giving members access to the gardens and the cars, one of the biggest perks of membership was the foundation’s yearly Halloween party and Connor and his friends never missed the event.

Partner costumes were always the theme, and awards were given out for the best costumes. They never vied for the awards, there were very wealthy members who wore very expensive costumes and walked away with the awards, but they loved to get dressed up and enjoy the spectacle. That year, Bill and Amy came as Hawkeye and The Black Widow. Joe and Mary came as Batman and Batgirl, Toni and Connor came as Jay Gatsby and Daisy Buchanan.

Toni wore a 1920’s style tuxedo with her hair combed back in a very masculine fashion, looking every bit the fashionable 1920’s fashion plate.

Connor wore a sleeveless, low cut, loose fitting dress with a peach colored, silk underdress and a stunningly shear, intricately beaded overdress with a very art-nouveau look to it, high heeled, black sandals and an equally intricately beaded headband that featured a medallion shaped centerpiece with three small lavaliers hanging from it and three tasteful little leafs jutting out of the top. Aside from his un-bobbed hair, he was every bit the fashionable, rich woman of The Jazz Age.

“Well, look at you!” Mary said as Connor arrived at their table. “You make an adorable flapper.”

Connor smiled. “I’m not sure Daisy Buchanan was technically a flapper…”:

“Who?” Mary asked.

“Daisy Buchanan,” Connor said. “You know… the girl that Jay Gatsby was obsessed with.”

“Oh!” Amy said, realizing who Connor meant. “Carrie Mulligan in that Leonardo DiCaprio movie, right?”

Connor smiled. “That’s her, alright.”

“Oh, then you look perfect,” Mary said, unable to keep herself from touching up Connor’s hair, just a little bit as the three of them began chatting.

“First time in a tux?” Bill asked Toni.

“Strangely enough, no,” Toni laughed. “I played a man in a production of ‘By Jeeves’ when I was in high school, and of course – prom. I find them very comfortable, actually.”

“Me too,” Joe agreed. “If regular suits were as comfortable as a tux, I would wear one every day.”

“Why not just wear a tux everyday?” Bill teased.

“Because I’d make you and everyone else look bad, if I did.”

They laughed.

“Hey girls,” Bill called to the table, “we’re going to the bar. Do you want something?”

“Ooh,” Amy answered for all of them. “They had a great cranberry martini last year. If they have that, we’ll all have one of those.”

Bill nodded, buttoned his suit jacket, then winked. “Three martinis – shaken, not stirred.”

Amy chuckled. “As soon as he gets near a tux, he starts acting like James Bond.”

“Joe does too,” Mary smiled.

“Toni is just happy she’s able to wear trousers. She hates dresses.”

“And you love them,” Mary said, her eyes twinkling. “So, everything works out.” She looked around before continuing. “At least, I hope everything works out. Are you guys still happy with this arrangement?”

Now it was Connor’s turn to smile. “Better than I ever could have imagined. Toni seems content and I’ve never been happier. I adore looking pretty and I have not had to correct anyone when referring to me by the wrong gender in almost a month.”

Amy got a bit serious. “Your gender? So… from here on out you’re a female?”

“Not necessarily,” Connor shrugged. “I am what I am, I guess, but I no longer have to tell people that I’m a guy when they call me ‘Miss.’ You’d be surprised what a burden that conversation can be when it occurs six or eight times a day.” He adjusted the silk opera gloves that covered his arms from fingers to biceps. “For now… I’m just going to be me. I’m done worrying about it. If that’s not good enough for someone else… not my problem.”

“Good for you!” Mary smiled.

Amy looked around to be sure that the guys were still at the bar. “Speaking of problems: did you hear that a date was set for the guys to go to court?”

“No,” Connor suddenly sounded concerned.

“November twenty-third,” Amy said. “Right before Thanksgiving.”

“Don’t tell the guys we told you,” Mary whispered. “They don’t want you to know.”

Connor shook his head. “I bet Toni knew already. You know, I don’t need to be protected by everyone. If I can help, I want to help.”

Amy laughed. “You don’t need protecting? Connie, you’ve always been protected. Bill has looked at you as his little sister our entire lives.”

Connor scoffed a little.

“It’s true, Connie,” Mary assured him. “Joe, too. Those guys couldn’t be more protective of you if you really were their baby sister.”

Connor looked to the bar where Toni, Joe and Bill were collecting their orders. “Really?”

Mary took his hands in hers. “Connie… we’ve always been friends, but we’ve also always been family. We all have moms and aunts and uncles and all, but the six of us have always been brothers and sisters. We all love each other in a way that most people will never know. If Joe and Bill and even Toni feel the need to be ‘the men’ and protect us, then that’s great. But Connie… you have always been the baby sister of our family. Even if you’ve only just started dressing the part.”

“She’s right, Connie,” Amy agreed. “Let them be your big brothers and let Toni be your man. That’s how things are meant to be.”

“One cranberry martini for you,” Joe said, placing a glass in front of Amy. As he did the same in front of Mary and Connor he said, “and one for you, and one for you.”

‘You all look beautiful,” Toni said to Mary, Amy and included Connor.

“Well, thank you, Mr Gatsby,” Mary said.

Toni laughed. “Am I Gatsby or am I Tom Buchanan? That was never made clear to me. I was just told to wear a tux.”

“Whose Tom Buchanan?” Mary asked.

“Geez honey, read a book, or at least pay attention to a movie, would ya?” Joe laughed.

“Oh, ha-ha,” Mary said, a tad irritated. “Connie said she was Gatsby’s lover. I assumed that Toni was Gatsby then.”

“Fair enough,” Joe laughed and held up his bottle of Coors in a toast to his wife.

Bill had been staring at Connor throughout this whole exchange. Connor could feel the stare but had avoided looking back. Finally, he made eye contact while the others kept talking.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Bill smiled. “You just look… I don’t know… amazing, I guess is the right word. It’s kinda unbelievable that this beautiful woman is my little pal, Connie. That’s all.”

“Do you find that weird?”

Bill chuckled. “Not at all, Connie. I’m happy that you’re happy. You are happy, right?”

Connor smiled. “Yeah, Bill. I’m happy.”

“How does it feel?” Bill asked.

“What?” Connor looked around. “Presenting as a woman?”

“No,” Bill laughed at the idea that Connor thought he was asking such a philosophical question. “That dress, I mean. It’s got all those beads and… stuff… all over it. Isn’t it heavy? Are the beads lumpy to sit on?”

Now it was Connor’s turn to chuckle. “No, Bill. It’s not heavy. It’s actually very… airy. Very soft and light and really silky. There’s a silk slip under the dress that makes it feel even more amazing. It’s pretty awesome.”

“Is there something you aren’t telling me?” Amy interrupted, having become aware of this sidebar a few moments earlier.

“What do you mean?” Bill asked.

“I mean, why are you suddenly interested in how women’s clothing feels? Are you interested in trying on some yourself?” She wasn’t angry, in fact her tone was a bit playful.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Bill laughed. “I was just wondering since… you know… this is all kinda new to Connie and I was just… curious.”

“Hmmm…” she smirked at both her husband and Connor. “You never asked me how my clothes felt.”

“You would have no point of reference.”

“What?” Amy was taken aback. “I do wear slips, you know William. I also wear dresses and even makeup, earrings and heels.”

“Yeah, but you’ve always worn them, so you have no point of reference.” He could see that Amy was not following him, so he clarified. “Look… Connie grew up wearing the same kind of clothes that I did. Rough, boys’ clothes. Jeans, trousers, dress pants, rough shirts, tighty-whities… you know… clothes that are built for endurance, not comfort. You grew up wearing pretty clothes. Soft jeans. Short-shorts. Silk. Nylon. Everything was designed to be soft and pretty. There is no way that you can experience clothes the same way that Connie is experiencing them now.” He turned his attention back to their friend. “So… how does it feel?”

Connie smiled at both Bill and Amy. He was amused by both of them. They both were so playful when they went after each other like that. It was one of the ways they showed each other how much they loved one and other. “Well… it’s still kinda new to me, of course, but it feels kinda wonderful, really. I love how soft and light and gently everything moves on me, how pretty it makes me feel, how natural I feel when I look pretty in them. This dress in particular makes me feel beautiful and special and even more special than usual. Kind of like I would imagine a bride would feel.”

Bill nodded and looked at his wife. “See. Would you have given me an answer that good?”

Amy wiped a little tear from her eye and leaned over to hug Conner. “You are special, Connie. Very special.”
 

 
“You look lovely,” Toni said, as Connor looked at himself in the full-length mirror that morning.

“I don’t know… It’s a nice dress, but… do I look like a woman in it, or a guy in a dress?”

Toni chuckled. “Babe, you have never looked like a guy in a dress. Since that Sunday that the pressure cooker exploded and you put on one of Mary’s old dresses, you have never looked anything like a guy in a dress.”

Connor smiled. “Thanks.” He sighed. “I just need to look… perfect… you know?”

Toni nodded. “Look, Connie… you don’t have to go to this thing today. It’s not a trial. Bill and Joe aren’t in danger of going to jail or anything. They’re not even in danger of losing their jobs. That’s something that may come later. It’s a hearing. That’s all. No jury. Just a judge and some lawyers.”

Connor nodded as he bent and picked up his long, wool coat. “I know, but we need to be there to support them. If they lose, then Crenshaw goes back to work with them, and they say they’ll have to find new jobs. They don’t want that… and I don’t want that… and I don’t want to be the cause of that.”

“Oh, Connie,” Toni stepped forward and hugged him. “No matter what happens, you are not the cause of any of this. You know that, right?”

Connor shrugged. “I feel like I am.”
 

 
“You ready?” Mary asked Joe.

He adjusted his tie in the mirror by the door. “How do I look?”

She smiled. “Like the most handsome man in the world.”

He smiled back. “Then I guess I’m ready.”

She laughed and kissed his cheek. “It’s going to be ok, Joe. I’m sure of it.”

“I wish I had your confidence,” he said with a sad smile. “It will be what it will be, I guess.”

She hugged him tightly. “Whatever happens, we’ll be ok.”

He nodded. “We will, babe. We will.”
 

 
“We have to get going, hon,” Bill said, tapping on the bathroom door.

The door swung open and Amy stepped out. She was forcing a smile, but her eyes were red-rimmed. “Ok. I’m ready.”

“Hey,” Bill said, looking very serious, “if worst comes to worst, I just find another job, ok?”

She nodded.

“We’re gonna be fine, Amy. I promise.”

“I know, Joe, I just…” she thought for a moment, then let put a frustrated grunt. “This is ridiculous! The same jerk that made high school intolerable at times is now making our life miserable! He has no right to do this, Bill!” Her temper was never this volatile. Bill was concerned.

“Try to relax, Amy…”

“Relax!? Bill, we could lose everything. I like my life. I like my friends. It shouldn’t all be jeopardized by that dweeb.”

“Dweeb?” Bill laughed, trying to lighten the mood. “Amy, honey, I know you’re upset, but there’s absolutely no reason to start throwing the ‘D’ word around.”

She shook her head, looked at him as if he were clueless, pushed past him, and that’s when he realized her eyes were teary.

“Come on, Amy,” Bill pleaded. “This really isn’t the time for this.”

He heard her slam the door to her closet. He shook his head. This was not Amy-like behavior. Usually, she was easy going, but she’d been like this for a few weeks now. Swinging hot and cold. Sweet, then angry.

He glanced into the bathroom and realized that the blinds were still closed, so he stepped in to open them. That’s when he noticed the open cardboard box in the wastebasket and the small plastic wand beside it. The small wand had a little window on it and the window had a ‘+’ sign clearly displayed in it.

Bill bent and picked up the wand and stared at it in disbelief.

“I thought we had to go?” Amy said impatiently from the doorway.

Bill turned, the biggest smile he’d ever had on his face. “Are we… are we… expecting?”

Amy couldn’t help it. She was scared and upset and very hormonal, but she just adored Bill and his smile was so huge that it made her smile. “Yeah.” She nodded. “We’re expecting.” She almost whispered it. “Great timing, huh?”

“Oh, my God!” He shouted. “This is amazing! This is huge! This is UNBELIEVABLE!”

He went to hug her.

“Bill! Bill!” She shouted, backing away. “Put that back in the trash. I peed on that!”

“In the trash!? Hell, this is the first thing going in the baby book!”

“Oh no it’s not!” Amy laughed.

“Oh yes, it is!” Bill smiled pulling her into a tight hug. He kissed her hard and made a loud smacking sound when he parted from her cheek. He took her hand and headed towards the door. “If it’s a boy his name will be Arlo and if it’s a girl her name will be Winnifred.”

“You’re insane!”

“Kids will do that to you.”
 
 
To Be Continued...

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!