“Let me,” he said. But she wanted to do it, to putter around her kitchen. It grounded her, made her feel like she could speak her mind. He sat down and waited while she silently went about filling the teapot, getting cups and saucers out; this was not a time for mugs. She wanted proper tea service with lemon and sugar and real cream available in little packets pilfered from Howard Johnson’s.
“Dave, my son found a picture of you in the Ocean City yearbook. It’s of a Donna Jensen.” She turned around to look him in the eye; she wanted to see his response. He was stony, with white face and set mouth. “I thought about it, the possibility that you could have been a woman at one time, and frankly, I am all right with it.” She set the tea things in front of their chairs, waiting for the pot to boil.
He wasn’t saying anything yet, which she found troubling. She hoped he wouldn’t deny it unless denial was the truth. The pot started to rumble, and she took it off the heating element before it blasted a whistle. She decided to wait until she’d poured the water to repeat her statement. Placing the pot back on the stove, she watched him dunk the tea bag up and down in the water, his method.
“I was born a woman,” he said. “John’s right; I was Donna.” He took a little lemon packet and ripped a corner off, pouring the contents into his tea.
Oh, fuck, Alice thought. Am I going to have to squeeze the story out of him?
“And are you still a woman? Living as a man?” she asked. She watched him open a sugar packet, pouring the sugar into his cup and stirring it.
“It’s not that simple. I’m a man, but I have female genitals. I like my body the way it is. Is that what you’re asking?” He seemed slightly put off by having to answer her.
Alice laughed out loud. Just a honk of a laugh.
“Ah, yeah! That’s what I’m asking. Because you presented yourself as a man and went down on me as a man, and I thought fucked me as a man, and since I’m not a lesbian and have no intention of being a lesbian, it’s a problem for me.” She stood up and started to pace. Turning around to look at Dave, she realized she felt betrayed. “It’s a big problem for me. What was the penis?”
“It’s called a strap-on,” he said.
Alice was frowning. She could just imagine. No wonder he turned the lights off. She fought back tears again; she was so angry.
“You misrepresented yourself to me. If you’re going to have the surgery, it’s something I would understand and could adjust to. But I don’t want to live with a woman who is pretending to be a man. It just screws everything up.” She plunked down in the kitchen chair and began to cry, losing the battle. “Yes, I would say it certainly fucks everything up. Are you going to have the surgery?” She looked up at him.
He almost imperceptibly shook his head. “I’m not planning on it. I like my body the way it is. I’m not sexually active, so it’s not an issue for me. I take hormones that suppress the estrogen.”
She wondered what the purpose of the oral sex was, the penetration with the rubber penis, unless it was nothing more than a way to keep her off guard, to shut her up.
He was going to start explaining his regimen of drugs when Alice yelled, “Stop! Are you kidding me? You lied to me. And I really wanted to like you.” She wiped her face off with a napkin and got up to throw it in the trash. The thought that they could stay in each other’s life without physical contact occurred to her. But now that the illusion of a romantic relationship had been presented to her, it was what she wanted. She wanted a man who desired her, who was honest with her, who had a penis. It would be one thing to be with someone who lost his ability to have sex down the line, an entirely different thing to start out a relationship with someone who couldn’t do it. She could definitely have a friendship with Dave, but the romance was off.
“I’m sorry,” was all he said. He stood up to leave; she watched him gathering up his belongings.
“Good-bye,” Alice said, going to the door and opening it for him. He didn’t attempt to kiss her or to argue with her. And that pissed her off, too.
She closed the door after him, and a flood of conflicting emotions flowed over her. She was sad but angry. But she was relieved, most of all. What the hell was that all about? she thought. A tease, a kick in the teeth. Here, Alice, you’ve been alone all your life, here’s a possible partner, but he’s a she. She took his cup to the sink and squirted dish detergent into it, scrubbing it with all her might. She thought of her bag with her gun and dirty clothes and went quickly to her bedroom to retrieve it; everything was in it that she’d left behind when getting on the airplane to Philadelphia.
What the experience did for her was awaken a need she didn’t know she had, for companionship, a need to share her life with a man. And teach the lesson to never, ever pick up a man at the side of the road, no matter how masculine he might seem.
~ ~ ~
By the time John pulled into the garage, he had a pounding headache. Lynn decided as they drove through Bridgeton that she wanted to be dropped off at the bus station so she could go back into Wilmington for a fabulous night at the shelter. It was just as well; there was tension with an undetermined cause permeating the car, and if it was her unrest, better to be rid of it. Beth was uncommunicative as well, the stress of the day having taken its toll hours earlier. The kids got out of the car as fast as they could, disappearing into the house.
“Hey, wait a minute,” he said as Beth followed them. “Can we talk?”
“I’m talked out, John,” she begged. “Can it wait?”
He thought about what a rape accusation would do to her, and maybe she was right. Maybe it could wait.
“Okay, I guess you’re right,” he answered. “I’ll be right in.” He sat in the car as the light dimmed slowly, and the heat from the garage warmed up the air-conditioned car. Maybe he’d never have to tell her the truth. He could pretend leaving his job and starting over again was a choice he made unaided.
~ ~ ~
Bill pulled into the driveway next to his pickup truck. The children were finally quiet; Mario had annoyed his sisters all afternoon but had fallen asleep during the ten-minute drive home.
“Can you carry him in for me?” Faye asked.
“No! He’s eight years old, for Christ’s sake. Wake him up,” Bill said.
Faye shot him a dirty look as she got out of the car. She gently shook Mario, and the chorus of whines and moans followed.
“Way’ta go, Dad!” Bill Junior said, laughing and quickly getting out of the car before Faye asked him for help, too. “It was finally quiet.”
The girls scrambled, wanting to avoid having to help their mother with the brat Mario, as well.
Faye held Mario’s hand and walked into the kitchen with him. Bill was standing outside of the door, looking over the pool.
“Are you coming in?” she asked.
He shook his head. She closed the door in his face, and when she was certain no one but Bill was looking, flipped him the middle finger. He pulled the door open.
“Real mature, Faye,” he said, stepping through the doorway. Some measure of well-being she’d gained while with her family suddenly disappeared, and anger took its place. Unconcerned about the presence of her eight-year-old son, she lashed out at Bill with a right hook that grazed his ear.
“You prick!” she screamed.
He grabbed her arm, and the wrestling match that proceeded brought a yell of fear from Mario.
“Mommy, Daddy, stop!” he hollered. “Help!”
Faye was hitting Bill with windmill arms, and Bill was trying to grab her to inhibit her swing. Big people, it was both frightening and funny to see them go at each other, although not for Mario. Ginger came in to the kitchen to find out what the racket was, and seeing her parents physically attacking each other scared her. She started screaming for them to stop, too. Finally, Bill’s vice grip, he had Faye around the waist with both her wrists caught in his fists, put a stop to the scuffle. He was panting, out of breath.
“I’m sorry, kids,
we’re okay now. Aren’t we, Faye,” he said slowly.
She was still struggling, and although Bill was tempted to let her go, sure she would attack him again and their children would see who the culprit was, he didn’t want the youngest ones to be traumatized anymore than they were. All five kids were in the kitchen now, watching. She was still struggling and bitching.
“Let me go!” she growled.
“Not unless you promise not to hit me again,” he said.
“I promise!” she shouted.
Danielle burst out crying, hearing it. He slowly released his grip, but backed up, just in case she started swinging at him.
“Dad! Your nose is bleeding,” Junior said, tearing off a bunch of paper toweling and handing it to him. The children gathered closer to Bill to see the damage their mother had done. It made Faye angrier.
“Yeah, run to him, run to the good guy. See if he’s hurt,” she sing-songed.
“Faye, what’s Vinnie up to?” Bill said breathlessly, sure she had a death wish.
She backed right down and left the room. The kids surrounded Bill, begging him to stay. But he just couldn’t justify being with Faye for one more night. It was integral to his wellbeing as a human to get away from her. Their relationship was so toxic to be dangerous to the kids, too.
“Look, it’s Saturday, we’ve just had a horrible day going to Doug’s funeral. How about you stay with me tonight? Bill, you drive your car so you can go out if you want, and the rest of you come with me. We’ll get pizza and watch a movie, okay?” He put his arm around Mario. “You can stay here with Mommy if you want. That’s okay, too.”
“No, I want to go with you,” Mario said.
“Okay, whoever’s going, get your overnight bag packed. Don’t forget your toothbrush!” he said, calling out as they went for the stairs. Faye would be angry with him for making the sleepover suggestion without her approval, but he didn’t care. She’d just bloodied his nose and acted like a lunatic in front of their kids. He stayed by the door, already a guest in this house, and Faye never showed her face again that day, even as her soon-to-be ex-husband herded their children out of the house.
~ ~ ~
Lynn sat near the middle of the bus on her way home. She thought the middle safest. The front would be too dangerous if the driver smashed into anything and the back if anyone smashed into the bus. The middle was only dangerous in case of a rollover.
She looked out the window, meditating on what the day had been like. One thing it did was confirm that she’d made the right decision to move away. Her family was insane. The kids were a bunch of spoiled brats. Her sisters were awful, ungrateful bitches. Her mother was a cuckoo. And her mother’s boyfriend! Either a tranny or a gay guy, Lynn couldn’t believe her eyes when Alice introduced them. She wanted to warn Alice, but decided she’d let that responsibility go to someone else. Alice was clearly smitten with him, so who was she to burst her bubble? It wouldn’t make any difference as she went back to her lair in the slums. Being part of a family, having to watch them suffer and make mistakes, choose the wrong people, raise their kids to be horrible adults, who needed it? She’d be more careful about further involvement. If anyone else died, they could mourn without Lynn.
~ ~ ~
April started watching the clock at three. Relatives were occupying the children for her, so if she wanted to go into the den and watch Nascar with her brothers-in-law, she could do it and then put her head back and sneak a nap. But the moment she tried it, her mother-in-law came to get her. Yet another relative she didn’t know had shown up to pay their respects.
Todd was pissed at her, too. At first, she thought she might get away with it, running that stop sign. That he’d be able to forgive her and find some compassion for her. But she saw him texting all afternoon, certain it was Bonnie, and who was she to insist he stop? Bonnie served a purpose in April’s life; she kept Todd occupied so she could continue to drink herself into oblivion every day. He expected nothing of her, nor she of him, outside of providing monetarily for her and the boys.
As an act of penance, she went through the motions of being the grieving mother. She thanked each visitor, smiled when appropriate, and cried when there was no other position she could take. Finally, either through pity or sheer exhaustion himself, Todd came to get her. He’d already rounded up their two boys and was carrying a bag of party leftovers Diane didn’t want to throw away. April kissed everyone who approached her, when Todd dragged her out of harm’s way.
“We’ve got to go now, get the boys home. Please excuse us,” he said, moving through the humanity that crowded around them, moaning condolences and pawing them with compassion. Todd was ready to scream, too. They got the boys into their seats, and Todd got into his, buckling his seat belt. “Hurry up, April,” he said. “I’m gonna lose it if we don’t get outta here.”
She hurried to slam the passenger door and buckled her belt. Laying her head back against the seat, she closed her eyes. All she wanted to do was get home and get the boys down for either a nap or early bedtime.
“Oh, fuck,” Todd said, and she started, sitting up to see what the problem was. There were three police cars parked in front of their house.
“What do they want?” she asked, yawning. But Todd knew. Diane probably called them the moment Todd walked out of the house with his family. When the funeral was over, when the festivities were finished, then and not before, April would be charged with the murder of her son and taken to jail to await trial.
“They’re here for you,” he said, not mincing words.
She sat up straighter. “For what?”
But when Todd snickered and looked at his wife with the “you can’t be that stupid” look on his face, she knew. And all she really wanted was to take a nap.
Chapter 27
It was a relief for everyone when Monday arrived. Alice thought about going back to work. She paced the floor and wrung her hands. In good health now, she didn’t have one thing to occupy her time. She’d forgotten about her resolution to do something worthwhile with her life, thanks to Dave. Work would be good for her. She had her morning coffee and quickly got dressed. She stood in the doorway overlooking the blueberry field. The workers were there in force today, it would be a big day at the blueberry stand. She took a deep breath. The smell of ripe berries filled her senses. She might pick a quart and make muffins later.
But first, she was going to call work and talk to her boss, let him know she’d like to come back. A voice she didn’t recognize picked up the phone, and then spoke the words that would dash April’s plans. Howard Johnson’s lunch counter was closing down. The hotel would stay open, but they were hiring another established restaurant to take over, and the first thing to go would be the counter service. Even though she was somewhat relieved not to have to go back, Alice hung the phone up and started crying again.
“Are tears going to be my response to everything from now on?” she asked no one, exasperated. Thinking of the women she’d worked with all those years, not one of them thought enough of her to call and share the news. When was the last time she spoke to any of her old colleagues? She shook her head and stood up. What was she supposed to do with her life? She had a big decision to make. She was too young to retire, so she had to find something to do to support herself that had more meaning than finding something to pass the time. As she was putting the phone back in its cradle, it rang again, scaring her.
“Mother, it’s John. I wanted to remind you about Lynn’s surgery tomorrow. I actually found a nursing home/rehab center that will collect Medicaid on her behalf. It’s close to where she’s staying now. So you’re off the hook,” he said.
Alice was taken aback. Why did her children have such a low opinion of her? “I never asked to be taken off the hook,” she said. “Why would you think I was looking to be off the hook?”
John quickly went into damage-control mode. “Mother, I apologize. It was me who wanted to be off the hook, and I guess I just transposed that onto yo
u. I am truly sorry. It’s been a little crazy around here,” he said, an understatement.
“Why? What’s going on? You don’t have to protect me, you realize that, right?” she said, her heart bounding in her chest. What more could happen?
“You tell me what happened with Dave first,” he said.
“Well, I confronted him with your discovery, and you were correct. He was Donna. He isn’t thinking about reassignment surgery, so being with him isn’t an option for me,” she said, hoping that was enough information for John.
“Oh, Mom, I’m really sorry,” he said. And he was. He wondered if Alice would try to meet another man now, if she’d consider internet dating sites. But it was too much information for now. His family was teetering on the brink of disaster as it was. Beth was being weird, and he was certain he’d have to deal with the backlash of Karen’s accusation soon.
“Why aren’t you at work?” Alice could hear barking dogs and the sound of the television through the phone.
“I quit,” John said, keeping it simple. “I have what amounts to a summer of paid time off, and then in the fall, I’ll be unemployed. It’s my reward for going without vacations or holidays for ten years.”
Alice was stunned. John was the worker in the family. He picked blueberries every summer from the time he was eight years old. What would he do for three months without work?
“Well, I’m speechless,” she admitted. “But you really deserve the time off.”
“Mom, I want to throw something out there. It’s just a suggestion, okay? I’m not trying to boss you around,” he added, knowing how much Alice hated to be given advice.
“Okay,” she said slowly. “What?”
Alice's Summertime Adventure Page 22