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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Phoenix Risen
by Krystle Glass (address withheld)
***
A couple of people with a lot of baggage in their lives
get together against all the odds. (MF, rom)
***
He first saw her while he was waiting at Dr. G's for his
appointment. He was there for his weekly session, both
nervous and bored at the same time. Nervous from
anticipating his upcoming session, bored as most people
are when they are killing time with little more to
entertain themselves than year old obscure magazines.
He'd just put down a dog-eared copy of "The New Yorker"
- one he'd looked at 20 times already - when he glanced
up and saw her leave the good Dr.'s room. There was some
quality about her that caught his attention.
She was pretty, but not gorgeous, no raving beauty. Her
figure was OK but nothing outstanding. It was more some
indefinable air about her. She seemed so fragile,
innocent and possessed a sadness about her bordering on
the tragic. He didn't realize he was staring at her, but
his gaze was riveted upon her as she walked out of the
waiting room.
She never noticed him. And he found himself staring at
the door that had closed behind her. How long he stared
he wasn't sure, snapping out of his funk as he heard the
receptionist call his name. He flushed a bit when he
realized it wasn't the first time he'd been called. He
had to wonder just how many times she'd had to call him.
He answered her slightly amused grin with a sheepish
smile, and entered the Dr.'s office a bit hurriedly.
He'd been coming to Dr. G's for about a year now. The
Dr. was helping him deal with a good bit of stress and a
touch of depression. All during college, post-grad
school, hunting for a good job the stress had been
building. Of course dealing with his father's high
expectations didn't help. His father was an enormously
successful businessman, hardworking, driven and as rigid
as they come.
He felt he could never satisfy his father, never measure
up. When he finally received his Master's, graduating
cum laude, his father made it quite clear he'd been
expecting his son to have graduated magna cum laude. It
has surprised them both when he'd turned down the
position his father had offered him in the company. His
father was surprised because, like so many aspects of
his life, Good Old Dad had assumed he'd follow in those
giant footsteps. Assumed without question.
He'd surprised himself by finally standing up to his
father and refusing, surprised by the vehemence with
which he abhorred the very idea of working in his
father's company. He didn't realize until he'd said it
just how much he wanted, no needed, to find and make his
own way. The fight that followed was of epic
proportions, but still just one in a long history
between them.
Six months after he'd started his own business, as an
importer, everything seemed to finally collapse. All the
stress that had built up over the previous 24 years of
his life, and the pressures of trying to make a go in
the highly competitive world of import/export, resulted
in a short but severe breakdown.
That was when he met the good Doctor. It had taken a
year of therapy, filled with ups and downs, insights,
revelations and setbacks to get his life stabilized.
Certainly he still had issues to deal with, the still
widening split with his family for one, but he was
handling it.
As his appointment was drawing to an end, he surprised
himself by asking the Dr. about the woman he'd seen
leaving before his appointment. "A very sad case. She's
very emotionally fragile, but has amazed me at times
with her resilience. But I really cannot discuss her
case with you. It would be totally unethical." Dr. G
wouldn't even give out her name. He respected the Dr.'s
professionalism, and he also liked and respected him as
a person. So he let the matter drop and tried to forget
her. As he drove home he couldn't seem to get the image
of her out of his mind. Such a haunting type of beauty.
He was no stranger to women. He'd dated his share, many
extremely desirable, beautiful women had gotten his
attention. It was amazing what tremendous family wealth
would do. It didn't hurt that he was also handsome,
tall, athletic and personable. He was very good with
people, well educated and with a wide variety of
interests. Some of his romances had lasted for months,
most less than that. He found a wide variety of women
attractive, and had no single feature or type of woman
that he found more enticing than another.
He'd been involved with women of every imaginable
height/weight/hair color/eye color/ethnic background
imaginable. Many were as intelligent and educated as he,
some more so. He'd dated across social and economic
backgrounds (now that had led to some fine battles at
home). Some had even sought him in marriage. But he'd
never really become serious with any of them. Some had
ended badly, some were still close friends. So he found
it puzzling, and maybe even unnerving, when days later
he was still thinking about his mystery girl.
Over the next few months he caught several glimpses of
her at Dr. G's, but they never seemed to connect.
Sometimes he'd be out the door only to turn back and see
her go in. Most times he'd be sitting waiting, just as
he had been the first time he saw her, as she left. Each
time he was stricken by her face and the air of sadness
she had. Once her eyes had met his and he couldn't
breathe.
As their eyes met he was held speechless by what he'd
barely glimpsed in the depths of her dark eyes. They
were truly amazing, perhaps her most striking feature. A
brown so deep, so dark, with long lush lashes. Something
in her eyes whispered of unimaginable depths of pain,
compassion, love, fragility and yes the strength Dr. G
had spoken of. The contact lasted only the briefest of
seconds, and she acknowledged him with a slight tilt to
her head. Then she was gone. He finally drew in a
shuddering breath and was still very shaken when he
entered Dr. G's office for his session.
It was some time before he could regain his composure
enough to speak. The doctor was fascinated with his
reaction to the woman. He also seemed concerned and
asked an interminable number of seemingly unrelated
questions, but would not divulge why. He trusted Dr. G
and so answered each question as honestly as he could.
By the end of his session Dr. G looked, not troubled,
but perhaps a bit concerned.
He was still heavily tied up with his business. It was
now turning a very nice profit and he found it
tremendously rewarding. He loved the contact with so
many different people, the travel to different
countries, the workings of making deals. He was very
good at what he did and the chasm between him and his
father had begun to close once more.
His business success had finally registered on his
father and gained him some of the old man's respect. It
wasn't perfect but he would take what he could get. One
thing his therapy had gained him was that his father
couldn't dominate or aggravate him anymore. He'd moved
beyond being his father's son, and had become his own
man.
God, it was a great day! He'd closed a major deal with a
supplier in Greece. Mediterranean decor was becoming
very hot (again!) and the demand was unbelievable. He'd
also had very productive session with Dr. G. He was in
such a good mood he decided to skip going back to the
office. He called his secretary and told her he would be
out for the remainder of the day. The sun was shining,
there was a slight breeze keeping it from becoming too
hot.
He decided to do something he hadn't done in years. He
was going to spend the day in the park. The Park was
famous for its floral gardens, landscaping, variety of
trees, the duck pond. He used to go there and people
watch when he was still a student. He stopped at a food
cart, bought himself a junk food lunch (another treat
too long denied) and enjoyed his stroll.
Coming over a rise he stopped dead, his mouth hanging
open. He'd been just about to take another bite of his
mustard covered hotdog (which he wasn't even aware he
dropped), when he saw her. His mystery girl! She was
sitting on a bench by the duck pond, feeding the flock
that had formed around her. He stood and stared for
several minutes, just taking in the tableau before him.
She was dressed in a light spring dress, espadrilles and
a wide-brimmed hat with a yellow ribbon.
He hadn't recognized her at first with the hat shading
her face. But when she turned, eyes closed, to bask in
the sun, he'd been thunderstruck. The breeze gently blew
her long dark hair. A small maple to her right had
dappled her in shadow. One pure brilliant shaft of
sunlight had found her an illuminated her face as she
soaked in it's warm caress.
He was startled from his reverie by the sound of a kid
skateboarding up behind him. "Hey man, you're blocking
the way!" he jumped aside, the teen glaring at him in
absurd indignation. Before he knew what he was doing he
found himself walking towards her.
"Do you mind if I sit here?" He asked. She turned
towards him and his heart froze once more, she was so
breathtaking!
"Not at all," she replied as she turned once more to
feeding the ducks.
He sat there for what seemed an eternity, his voice
lost. "I feel like a schoolboy," he thought to himself.
Normally confident and easy in any situation this woman
had him totally flustered. Swallowing the lump in his
throat, "I'm Peter. Peter Hutchinson." He managed
(barely) to squeak out. Clearing his throat he held out
his hand.
He half expected hers to be cool, light and ethereal,
but was once more surprised. Her hand was very slim,
long fingered, but warm. There was also a real sense of
silken strength in her hand. Here was a real woman, not
some ethereal creature after all. "A beautiful day," he
said, struggling to find some way to not sound so lame.
She gazed about slowly, "Yes it is, very beautiful. Rare
for this early in the season." Her voice was very soft,
not lyrical or musical, not really breathy, not husky.
It had, like the rest of her, a quality he found hard to
define, both fragile and strong at the same time. "I've
seen you at Dr. G's office," she said.
She'd noticed him! The very idea that this woman who had
so haunted his thoughts had noticed him, made his pulse
race. He felt pleased beyond reason and felt his face
split into a wide smile.
"Why yes, I do see Dr. G. He's helped me sift through a
lot of issues in the past couple of years," he answered.
"Dr. G has been a blessing to me," she said. "Without
his help, I don't think I'd still be here today."
He was not so thick-headed that he didn't guess her
meaning. The very concept of such an exceptional woman
thinking of suicide evaporated his smile and caused a
slight frown. "Oh you really should smile more. It makes
you so much more handsome. Frowning makes you look so
very serious. Nice to have met you Peter Hutchinson."
Gathering her bag, she gracefully rose. He found himself
standing, as she turned and walked away. Before he
realized it, she was out of sight, and then it dawned on
him. He hadn't even learned her name!
Over the next few weeks he tried to time his
appointments with Dr. G, so that he might run into her
again. He would arrive at the building early and try to
spot her, or if he hadn't seen her by the time he left
he would linger a while. But she was still so elusive,
he barely caught more than a glimpse of her.
He found himself frequenting the park, especially the
duck pond. He took to feeding the ducks to pass the time
and eventually had names for several of the regulars.
Once he thought he spied her across the bridge that
transversed the duck pond, but it was rather foggy and
he couldn't be sure. He tried to catch her, but she was
as elusive as a phantom.
His business was still booming, and he was kept quite
busy. He was traveling nearly every couple of weeks and
seldom spent much time at his apartment. But overall he
was content. Things were going smoothly, his visits to
his parents had become less strained, nearly cordial. He
seemed to need Dr. G less and less. His sessions become
monthly rather than weekly. This was good and bad. Good
because it meant he had resolved most of his baggage
from his childhood. Bad because it gave him less chance
to find the woman that had come to completely haunt what
little free time he had.
It was raining, well actually more of a heavy drizzle.
He'd come to the park still. It had been months and he
really didn't come thinking to find her. It had instead
become more of a habit. But one he enjoyed. He found it
relaxing, sitting, feeding the ducks. He'd talk to them
(though it was more like he was talking to himself).
"Well Harry, how are the young one's? The missus must be
proud."
Harry and Matilda had mated and their young had hatched
just last week. The little ducklings carefully watched
by both Harry and Matilda, as they waddled and scrambled
for the bread crumbs he brought. "Fine weather for
ducks, Harry my man. Have you and the little lady
thought about where you'll be vacationing come winter?
Florida? Again? Harry you need to be more creative. Try
someplace new."
The giggle he heard behind him, made him flush in
embarrassment. He turned to see who'd caught him
rambling. There, under a what had to be the biggest pink
umbrella he'd ever seen, was his dream woman. He blushed
an even brighter shade of red.
"Now Harry," she said with a gleam, "you never told me
you knew Peter." With a sidelong glance she smiled at
him and his heart just melted. "Don't be embarrassed,
Peter. I talk to the ducks all the time. They are very
good listeners and never had any criticism to offer. By
the way, my name is Sharon. Sharon Phoenix."
Despite the coolness of the day and the drizzle, her
hand was again surprisingly warm, vibrant. But although
she was smiling he could still see the sadness lurking
within. "Do you mind if I join you?" Did he mind? Good
lord, this was what he'd dreamed of so often!
"I must look like a drowned rat," he thought.
When she sat her umbrella sheltered them both. They sat
side by side, without talking. Just feeding the ducks.
Was it his imagination, or were the ducks smiling at him
as well?. He could feel the warmth she radiated, and
could have sworn she could hear his heart hammering away
in his chest.
Just when he'd worked up the courage to speak, the skies
really opened up. Lightning flashed and the boom of
thunder made them both jump. It was truly pouring now
and they really couldn't stay where they were. "Would
you like to join me for some coffee?" he asked. She
accepted on the condition that they walk, and that he
share her umbrella. He wasn't about to disagree!
Side by side they strolled out of the park, thunder
rolling in the distance. By the time they exited the
park, he found himself walking with his arm around her
waist. He'd done it without thought, trying to stay
under the shelter of her umbrella. She'd told him she
loved walking in the rain. Not many people did and it
gave her the feeling of having the whole city to
herself.
They found a nice cafe where they could dry out and just
watch the rain. It was a small intimate place, nearly
empty. As time passed he found himself more at ease with
her. In fact before he realized it, it had gotten dark.
He'd been talking to her for four hours! He had told her
all about his business, his hopes and dreams for the
future. "Look I didn't mean to talk your ear off. You
must be hungry. I know I'm starving. Let me make it up
to you by buying you dinner." He couldn't bear to see
this end.
"No really thank you," She demurred. "I have really
enjoyed this. It's been nice. But I'm not hungry and I
should be going."
"Let me at least get you a cab. You'll be drenched if
you go out in this. Plus it's gotten dark."
"Thank you, Peter, but I don't mind the rain. I find it
soothing. And I have a ways to go before I'm home."
He'd noticed she wore no ring, not even a telltale mark
of one having been there recently. "Sharon, I want to
see you again. Will you have dinner with me? Can I call
you?"
"Peter, thank you. I'm flattered, but I'm not really
ready to 'date'. It isn't you. I like you, you're a very
nice man. You're kind and sensitive but I really don't
think it's a good idea."
"Sharon, I understand. I won't pressure you. Can we be
friends?"
"I'd like that."
He had a sense she didn't have many friends. "Then can
your new friend call you sometime? We could have coffee
or whatever. Dutch treat."
With a smile to break his heart and a laugh that *was*
musical, she gave him her number.
As he made his way to his apartment, he was so thrilled
he didn't expect to sleep all night. Surprisingly he
slept like a baby. No one could see the smile that lit
his face in his sleep.
**
The next morning dawned sunny and bright. She was
awakened by the ringing of the phone. "mm hullo?" she
said still groggy.
"Good morning, my friend!" It was Peter, sounding full
of life and excitement. "How about joining me for
breakfast? I know a great place in town that makes the
best Belgium waffles and omelets you've ever tasted."
"Peter? Wha' time is it?"
"It's 7:00 and this place fills up fast. Especially on
the weekends. I'll pick you up in 30 minutes."
"No, no, that's too soon. I'll meet you there. What's
the name of the place and where is it? OK, I know it.
I'll be there in an hour." Dragging herself out of bed,
she stumbled to the shower. She almost never got up so
early on Saturdays. She'd have to really move it if she
were to get to the restaurant in time. The train ride
into town would take at least 20 minutes, if she were
lucky. The day promised to be warm and sunny.
She quickly showered, dried and brushed her hair into a
simple ponytail, pulled to one side and held with a
flowered clip. Her make-up was very natural and subdued
and done in just a few minutes. She was very good at it
and had the time down to nearly nothing. Hurriedly she
went back to the bedroom and dressed. She chose a nice
pair of khaki shorts, simple white cotton blouse,
sandals, small enameled pansy earrings, simple gold
herringbone necklace.
She checked her purse, grabbed a light pullover sweater
in case it was cooler than she thought and headed out.
She'd gotten ready in just 30 min. and hit the trains
and transfers perfectly. Almost exactly 60 minutes after
she'd gotten off the phone, she walked into the
restaurant. Taking off her sunglasses she spotted Peter
as he stood and waved from a table by the window. In no
time at all they picked up where they had left off the
day before.
During breakfast neither of them noticed the food. Later
they would not even be able to recall just what they'd
ordered. Neither of them had made any plans, so they
ended up spending the day walking the city. They
strolled the park, walked the more avante garde area,
browsing the shops and vendor carts.
Peter found himself opening up to her as he had never
done with anyone else. During the next few hours he had
told her more about himself and his feelings than he had
during the first year of his therapy with Dr. G. He even
found himself sharing things he'd not told the doctor,
some things he'd never realized or admitted to himself.
He found this remarkable woman so easy to talk to.
He could see the compassion in her eyes, sensed she
could truly understand his feelings. She seemed to
empathically feel what he felt. Even more astounding he
felt better about himself. It was as if his sharing with
her had opened up a part of himself that had always been
closed. He felt HEALED. In contrast he learned very
little about her.
He found out a lot of the typical things; foods she
liked, favorite colors, movies, books, activities, all
covering a very broad spectrum. But he learned nothing
about her past or the tragedy he could sense within her.
Instinctively he knew not to press her or pry, that
their relationship was new and that those in those areas
she was very skittish and fragile.
Dusk came and the air cooled. They had wandered far from
the restaurant where they'd started. "I really should be
heading home." she said, "I've got a busy night tomorrow
and have a lot to get ready. The train ride home from
here is going to take at least 45 minutes."
"OK, I've got commitments tomorrow night too. But no way
you're taking the train. We'll catch a cab back to my
car and I'll drive you home."
Too relaxed and a bit weary to refuse, she acquiesced.
Peter was surprised at where she lived. He had for some
reason pictured her in a stylish apartment in one of the
historic areas of the city. He never expected this
quaint house in the suburbs. It was very traditional,
complete with white picket fence.
As he pulled into the driveway, he noted the well
trimmed lawn, bright cheery flower beds, various shrubs.
It all came together exceptionally well, each aspect
complementing the others, and giving it a really homey
welcoming feel. She invited him in for coffee, and the
interior showed the same sense of style and taste. While
she was in the kitchen preparing the coffee, he roamed
the living room.
Examining the multitude of CD's and books, he was struck
by the wide range of tastes her music and reading
material covered. She had a fairly good video collection
as well and it too showed someone with varied interests.
The music covered time from the 50's to the latest,
instrumentals, old fashioned rock n' roll, dance,
ballads, folk, pop, classical, nature sounds. The
majority of her books were read for pleasure. No
biographies or text books, no romance novels. There were
true crime, thrillers, mysteries, horror, sci-fi, and
fantasy. The videos were a mixed bag of comedies, nature
films, adventure, action, etc.
While the decor was cozy, relaxing and fairly
traditional, her entertainment equipment (stereo, TV,
video equipment) were all top quality and state-of-the-
art. He asked to use her bathroom, and on the way passed
a den and what must have been her bedroom. The den was
small, neat and well organized. One corner was dominated
by what appeared to be a very sophisticated computer
set-up.
He didn't know much about such stuff, but he could see
there was a lot of equipment there. Sharon was still
puttering in the kitchen and he couldn't resist peeking
in the bedroom. The bedroom was exactly what he would
have pictured her in, very feminine, but not frilly.
Simple but not plain. Stylish but not ostentatious. This
appeared to be the only room with any pictures.
There were several drawings and paintings on the walls.
They were very, very good, but for some reason
unsettling. He could see they were drawn from the
artist's imagination and unlike the rest of the house,
which was cheery and bright, these were somber, brooding
and sad. On the night stand was a photograph. It showed
a family; father, mother, little boy. He didn't want to
be a snoop, so he made his way back to the living room.
Sharon was just setting down a tray with coffee and some
pastry.
He complimented her on her home, remarked at the
terrific strudel, only to find out she'd made the
confection herself. He learned she'd done all the work
around the house. He enjoyed gardening, working the
landscaping, found cooking relaxing and seldom followed
recipe's. She preferred to create her own dishes from
scratch. The more he learned about her, the more
remarkable Peter found her to be.
This was the kind of woman he could be serious with. All
too soon it was time to leave. She gave him a quick hug
and kiss on the cheek, thanked him for a wonderful day.
As he walked to his car, Peter's chest was pounding, his
blood rushing in his ears. He was smiling so wide as he
drove home, his cheeks hurt.
As Sharon picked up the coffee cups and dishes, she
smiled to herself. This was the most fun she'd had in
such a long time. She hadn't had such a relaxing day on
years. She found Peter to be charming, sensitive and
considerate. She could sense he really cared. Suddenly a
tremor shook her, a chill swept through her and her
smile vanished.
A single tear rolled down her cheek as she finished
cleaning up. Shortly afterwards, the house dark and
still, she retreated to her bed. She knew the night
would be long, empty and filled with dreams she'd rather
avoid. But they were such a part of her life now they
were in a way like old friends.
**
The next night Peter attended a performance of "Cats".
He was entertaining a new client and had brought them to
dinner at one of the finest restaurants in town. Usually
when he was having one of these social evenings with a
new client, especially if the client was accompanied by
his or her spouse, Peter escorted one of any number of
women from his social circle.
Tonight though he just couldn't think of anyone he
wanted to be with, none of them simply appealed to him.
The truth was that there was only one woman he wanted to
be with, and that was Sharon. After the play, he managed
to gain access backstage, and brought his client and his
wife to meet some of the cast. While the client's wife
oohed and aahed over meeting them, the client gave Peter
a wide grin and let him know that Peter had cinched the
deal.
His client was a very well known plastic surgeon from
California. He was building a new home and needed
someone like Peter who could get the artwork,
furnishings, accessories etc. to decorate it in the
style his wife wanted. The doctor's wife was known for
being "difficult" but by making her happy, Peter had
made not only a very lucrative deal, but a friend for
life. "Peter, I owe you big time for this. If there's
ever anything I can do for you just ask."
As he watched his clients, Peter idly looked around at
the backstage bustle of everyone cleaning up. He thought
he spied a familiar face and when he went over to
check...it was Sharon! She must have come to see the
play too. It was very popular and had enjoyed a packed
house all throughout its run. In fact he'd had to call
in some favors to get tonight's tickets, not to mention
the backstage passes. Now that he knew Sharon was also a
fan of the theater he knew where he'd ask her to go
next. "Hi! Did you come to see the play" he asked.
"No silly! I work here." Then he noticed the table,
brushes, tray, pots, powders etc. "I'm a make-up artist.
I work a lot of the plays and shows. Also some of the
advertising agencies use my services." With a grin and a
flourish, "My card good sir." He looked down at the card
she presented. It was a pleasant rose color, embossed in
a deep metallic blue "Crystal Illusions, artistry by Ms.
Sharon Phoenix."
They talked for a few minutes, and then Sharon went to
see the director for a consultation. As she walked away,
peter gazed at her raptly, unawares he was being watched
by several of the cast and crew. He turned to re-join
his clients and was brought up short by a very slender
man, part of the cast perhaps.
"Oh honey, I can see you've got it bad."
"What do you mean?"
"Oh hell, anyone looking at you watching Sharon could
tell. But look, you be real careful with her. She's a
real doll and you're not the only one who loves that
lady. You do anything to hurt her and you'd better leave
town." With a flounce the young man walked off. Peter
was amused and touched by the man's statement. On one
hand the man was maybe 5'6" to Peter's 6'2" and all of
120 lbs. To Peter's 195. Peter could kill him without
any effort. But the young man's sincere concern for
Sharon, his protectiveness of her made him like the man
immediately and reinforced his feeling that Sharon was
someone special.
**
Peter and Sharon, saw each other off and on for the next
few weeks. They never had a "date", instead just going
out "as friends" and enjoying each other's company.
During one of his increasingly infrequent sessions with
Dr. G, the doctor commented on how much more at ease
Peter seemed, how much more at peace he was. Peter
attributed it to his and Sharon's growing closeness.
"Peter, I want you to be very careful with Sharon. Both
for your own protection and hers. There is a lot going
on with that woman. I can't go into details, but there
are many things I doubt you know."
Peter admitted he didn't know much about her, but felt
he had come to know her essence, what made her the
person she was. For the first time, Peter admitted to
himself and said to the doctor, "Doc, I think I love
her. Maybe I'm crazy but I do."
"Look Peter, you're a good man and I know you would
never hurt anyone intentionally. I can see you really
feel the way you say. Just be careful."
**
A week later, Peter found himself attending a black tie
event. It was a benefit for the Children's Hospital, a
combination fund-raiser, awards banquet and public
relations hype. Peter had been attending for several
years. His father was on the board of directors, and it
was one of the families long standing charities. The
place was filled with "beautiful people", celebrities,
politicians, leaders in the medical and business fields.
His outgoing nature and gift with people usually made
these events a real pleasure for him. Typically he would
be there with his current beauty on his arm. He had
asked Sharon if she was busy for this night, but she had
a prior commitment. His mother commented on how he
hadn't been seeing anyone for some time now.
He didn't want to tell her about Sharon yet. Things had
become much better between him and his father of late,
and he was also feeling a touch protective towards her.
He didn't want her to have to deal with his father's
usual cross-examination. His mother took his lack of a
date as an excuse to play matchmaker. She kept him busy
with an endless stream of eligible women.
When it was time to adjourn to the dining hall, his
mother finagled things so he was seated next to one such
lady. She was the daughter of one of his father's
wealthiest competitors. She was beautiful, charming,
well educated, witty. Peter found himself having fun
despite his mother's machinations. But he also found
himself comparing this young woman to Sharon.
This woman was much more sophisticated, had traveled all
over the world. In fact they shared many common places
they had visited. Her honey blonde hair was perfectly
coifed in an elaborate upsweep. Her jewelry was
obviously expensive. She wore an impressive sapphire and
diamond necklace, matching earrings, bracelet and ring.
Her gown was the latest style, very fitted, with a deep
v-neckline.
The sequins glittered with her every move. The slit went
high enough to allow him an excellent view of her well
shaped legs. Her nails were long, professionally
manicured, her make-up a perfect blend of the exotic and
classy, nothing cheap or tawdry here. In short she was
like every other woman he'd dated. Sharon was well a
real person, down-to-earth, but still had an aspect that
thrilled him and called to his primal desires every bit
as strongly as her fragility called to his desire to
protect her.
During a break in the conversation, during one of the
interminably boring speeches, Peter glanced across the
room. There was Sharon! He was realizing there was much
more to her than he'd guessed. Now it seemed they had
one more thing in common. He wondered if she were here
with anyone. She was at a table with several other
people, but it was obvious she was alone.
Her hair glowed and was simply pulled back off her face
and held by a pair of pearled clips. She wore a simple
gown of deep blue silk. No plunging neckline or form
fitted shape, but instead it seemed to flow around her,
a scarf draped across her throat and over her shoulders.
A simple pair of pearl earrings were her only jewelry.
Her face was angelic. So beautiful, her look so natural
and the colors she'd used accented her natural look and
coloring perfectly. She was a complete contrast to every
other woman in the room.
He lost sight of her as the awards program began. He
intended to find her later and dance with her. He was
distracted, daydreaming of her, while carrying on
conversation with the woman seated next to him, as well
as his parent's and the others dining at his table. The
Director of the hospital stepped up to the podium.
"And now ladies and gentlemen, I want to take this
opportunity to make a special award I want to give a
very special recognition to someone who has touched many
hearts here in the past 3 years. She came to us on her
own with an outline for a new program that has made
countless young lives happier.
"She has given untold hours of her time to this hospital
and our young patients here. She single-handedly built
the program that helps those children, who have suffered
from deformity and disfigurement, feel better about
themselves and how they look. She has worked closely
with our reconstructive specialists on ways to help with
the transition periods faced by those we can help. I ask
you now for your applause and present to you Ms. Sharon
Phoenix!"
Peter was stunned! He had no idea Sharon was tied to the
hospital, that she had been volunteering. She was so
unassuming, it was just like her not mention the things
so many would have bragged about. As the room applauded,
and Peter watched her gracefully make her way to receive
her award, he beamed and his applause were the most
enthusiastic of all.
"Sharon," the director said, "We have received so many
letters of thanks and gratitude from the patients, and
families, that you and the program you instituted have
helped. I have received so many glowing comments of
praise from the doctors and staff, that it is my
pleasure to present you with this award. It is in honor
of your unselfish dedication and will become an annual
award, to be known as the Phoenix Award." With that he
presented her with a plaque and asked her to say a few
words.
"Thank you Dr. Stanton. I haven't done any more than any
of the other volunteers or dedicated staff here. I will
accept this award in honor of them all." With that she
gracefully returned to her seat, all the while receiving
applause.
Peter was so distracted after that, that his mother
asked him if anything were wrong. He excused himself,
and made his way over to Sharon's table, intent on
congratulating her and asking her to dance. He found her
table, but there was no sign of her. He asked the others
if they saw which way she had gone, but they told him
she had left for the night.
A couple of days later they had made plans to an outdoor
concert. It was another charity event. His father was
successful and wealthy enough to be involved in the
background of politics, and this was a fund-raiser for
his father's favorite candidate for governor. His father
had made a token appearance early on, but had already
left.
He preferred to work in the background, wheeling and
dealing, while expecting Peter to keep up the public
show as the token family representative. All part of
making the political machine work for his benefit,
according to dear old Dad.
Peter picked Sharon up and asked her how her week had
been. She said fine, but no mention of having won any
award. She asked about his night out and he told her it
was no big deal, just something his parents had wanted
him to go to, sort of a family tradition. Then he was
hit with an inspiration - he would invite her to meet
his parents.
There was a huge barbecue planned next month. Sharon
knew about his past with his father, but she also knew
that the anger, frustration and resentment he'd fostered
for so long wasn't there anymore. His parent's would
normally look down their nose at someone of Sharon's
economic background, but since she'd just won an award
that was named after her, they couldn't possibly. The
concert was superb. The music terrific, the weather
phenomenal.
The sky was a bright deep blue with dazzling white puffy
clouds to give it character. He got to show Sharon off
to all his friends. A few recognized her from the
banquet, and when they congratulated her, she'd said it
was no big deal. Everyone took to her and in no time it
was if she'd been part of their group for years. His
male friends congratulated him on such a find, a few
asked if they were an "item" or was she available.
Some of his old girlfriends congratulated him on his
taste, a couple said if they had to lose him to someone
at least it was someone with class. They all knew his
reputation and told him this wasn't someone to take
lightly. The day turned out even more perfect, when
Peter's cousin Sid asked Sharon if Peter was bringing
her to the family barbecue! Everyone jumped in and
encouraged her to go, so she had little choice but to
accept.
Later as they walked back to his car, Sharon took
Peter's hand. He had been very careful not to push her,
but her touched thrilled him. As he opened her door for
her, she leaned forward and kissed him lightly. "Thank
you for a wonderful day." she said. They drove back in
silence, each smiling. He would gaze at her, the wind
blowing through her hair, the setting sun turning her
face to gold, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the drive
through the country. They got back to town very late,
having stopped at a little cafe for a bite to eat.
They went by Peter's apartment on the way as it was en
route to Sharon's house. Peter wanted to check his
messages and had left his beeper and cell phone at home.
After a quick stop, they went to leave once more, but
his car wouldn't start. It was a Sunday night and while
he could have his car towed, it wouldn't be fixed until
tomorrow at the earliest. By now it was 10 PM and he
could see Sharon was tired. He was too after such a full
day. He offered to get her a cab or if she wanted she
could spend the night and he'd get her home in the
morning.
Being the gentleman he was, Peter insisted she take his
bed and he'd sleep on the sofa. He had a spare
toothbrush and his college sweatshirt to sleep in. He
let her clean up first. When she finished he turned and
saw her standing in the doorway. His sweatshirt was too
big for her slender frame, but he was surprised it
wasn't any too long. She was tall for a woman, maybe
5'9" or 5'10". She looked so sweet and so innocent
standing there. Peter found it powerfully erotic.
She came and kissed his cheek to say goodnight. The
scent of her freshly washed hair and skin was
intoxicating as he inhaled her fragrance. He fought the
urge to take her in his arms and crush her lips to his.
He couldn't rise for fear of his reaction to her being
too evident. She turned and closed his bedroom door.
After his pulse slowed finally, he stood somewhat
painfully, and showered himself. The bathroom was still
steamy from her shower and the air was filled with her
scent. He felt electrified and though worn out, he
doubted he'd sleep well.
Sharon stretched out and luxuriated in the feel of
Peter's bed. It had been a long, pleasant day. It had
been so long since she'd had so much fun with so many
people. She liked Peter's friends and his cousin Sid was
a riot. Peter was wonderful too. She enjoyed being with
him more than she cared to admit. His scent lingered on
the bedding and in his sweatshirt, and she breathed
deep, enjoying it so much she found it troubling. She
worried at how close she had come to feel towards him.
Sure enough, Peter tossed and turned, unable to rest. He
drifted in and out of a troubled sleep, filled with the
most erotic dreams. He awoke to strange sounds coming
from his bedroom. He went to the door and listened,
hearing whimpers and cries of anguish. "Sharon? Are you
OK?" he whispered.
Not getting any response he eased open the door. Sharon
lay twisted in the bedclothes. Her face was beaded with
sweat and she tossed and thrashed about, held fast in
the throes of a nightmare. Her cries tore at him and he
went to her side. The light from the open door
illuminated the tears that streamed down her face as she
cried in her sleep.
He couldn't bear to see her in such pain and he gathered
her in his arms, murmuring soothing words to try to
quiet her sleep. He held her as you would hold a child,
stroking her hair, kissing her cheek. In time she calmed
within his embrace, and settled into a more natural
restful sleep, clutching him like a life preserver. He
tried to disengage himself from her, but she clung to
him and he feared awakening her. So he spent the
remainder of the night, holding her. Holding the woman
he loved.
Somewhere near dawn, Peter managed to make his way back
to the sofa. The primal passion he'd felt earlier had
long been replaced by a deeper need. The need to see
this woman happy and safe. He grabbed a few hours of
sleep, awakening to the smell of bacon cooking.
"Good morning sleepyhead," she called as he stumbled
into the kitchen. "My you don't look like you slept well
at all." Then like a cloud passing before the sun her
expression changed. "Did I keep you awake?" she asked,
her face filled with worry.
To spare her discomfort he told her it was just the
sofa. Her eyes widened and she began to giggle when he
came around the counter. He frowned and then it dawned
on him, old Mr. Lucky was giving her a morning salute
through his jogging pants. With a furious blush, he
excused himself to relieve the pressure on his bladder.
Sharon had made them a breakfast fit for royalty. There
were slices of melon; bacon done to a turn, crisp but
not burned; pan grilled English muffins (just the way he
liked them, he hated them toasted); strawberry
preserves; omelets with cheddar cheese, mushrooms,
vidalia onions and sweet red peppers; orange-pineapple
juice; fresh brewed coffee with cream. Peter knew he
didn't have most of this in his apartment. Where did
Sharon get all this food?
When he asked, she told him that she had seen the sorry
state of his pantry and refrigerator. Knowing that
ketchup, week old bread and beer (even if it was
imported) would not suffice for breakfast, Sharon had
checked the phone book and found a market that
delivered. She had also found the list of numbers by his
phone and called his garage to come fix his car. They
had already towed his away and left him a loaner to use
while it was being repaired.
Sharon may have some fragile qualities but she certainly
wasn't helpless. Surprised and touched at her
thoughtfulness, and being unused to having anyone look
after him, Peter was overcome with joy. Watching Sharon
clean-up the dishes, he couldn't help himself. Without
thinking he leaned forward, kissed her on the lips and
said, "I love you!"
His smile vanished as he saw the color drain from her
face. Sharon dropped the dish she was drying, and it
shattered as it crashed to the floor. Her hands
trembling, her face white she said in a small, tight
voice, "NO! No you CAN'T. You don't even know me. YOU
CAN'T LOVE ME!" With a cry she turned and bolted out the
door.
Stunned, Peter took a moment to react. By the time he
got out of the apartment, he heard the front door bang
shut. Hitting the street, he frantically looked around
and spotted Sharon racing down the next block.
"Goddamned, she's fast! What the hell have I done?" he
wondered as he tried to catch up with her.
Peter couldn't believe how fast Sharon was. She ran like
she was chased by demons, which was not far from the
truth. He saw her finally stop running in the middle of
the bridge, her head was down and even at this distance
he could see her sobbing. Peter pushed himself to
further speed as he saw Sharon's head come up.
She took a grip on the railing, leaned forward and began
to raise her leg. It was a long drop to the river below.
She had just gotten one leg over the top of the railing,
when Peter caught her. Her eyes were wide and filled
with fear, her face covered in tears. With an
inarticulate cry she fought his grasp. Peter found
himself hard-pressed to keep hold. Her strength was
surprising to say the least.
With a final heave, Peter managed to get her free of the
edge, and enfolded her in his arms. He was really shaken
by her reactions. Gingerly he led her back to his
apartment. He found the key to the loaner car and drove
her home. Sharon sat slumped against the door, her head
down, her hands shaking. What broke his heart most was
the lost, frightened look in her eyes. When they got to
her home, Peter called Dr. G and explained what
happened. He was afraid to leave her alone, and the good
doctor said he would be there soon.
Dr. G arrived shortly and checked on Sharon. When he
came out of the bedroom, he went to Peter. "I've given
her a sedative. She should sleep now for a while. I'll
wait here for a bit. I don't think it's wise for you to
be here when she wakes up."
"Maybe I shouldn't tell you what I'm about to, but the
ethics here get fuzzy. You're both my patients and your
welfare's seem to be inter-twined. You must never reveal
that you know anything I'm about to share, especially to
Sharon."
"You have my word, Doc."
"Well... Some time back Sharon was married. She had a
son, a little boy. She was also leading a double life,
something she kept from her spouse and everyone else
that knew her. Just what that entailed you will have to
hear from her, IF she ever decides to volunteer it. One
night while she was away from home, leading this double
life, tragedy struck. Her family was killed in an
accident. She blamed herself, feeling that had she only
been home WHERE SHE BELONGED it wouldn't have happened,
that they would have still been alive. More than likely
she would have been killed also.
"She felt enormous guilt over having been deceitful with
her family. She held herself together until after the
funeral. I met her after she had tried to kill herself.
Since then I've been treating her for her depression.
She has dealt with things within herself that would have
broken lesser people. But she has never forgiven
herself, refuses to do what she needs to let herself be
happy.
"She feels she doesn't deserve to be happy. She doesn't
feel she can allow herself to be loved, since she had
once before betrayed the love she had. I have been
hoping that in time she could overcome this, find
someone to love and accept their love in return. I
thought after seeing how well you two had hit it off,
you might be the one. I guess maybe she just isn't as
strong as I hoped. She isn't ready yet to be more than
friends."
"Doc, whatever she needs, however she will have me in
her life, however long it takes, I want to be there for
her. I do love her."
"Well tell her that when you see her again. IF she will
see you again. I'll leave her a note to call you later.
Wait for her call, don't call her. When she calls you'll
know she's ready."
Sharon did finally call, but not until 2 days later. She
apologized profusely, but Peter told her that she had
nothing to apologize for. He had acted on impulse, he
said. He felt he owed her an apology. They argued back
and forth over who owed whom an apology, until the
absurdity of it got to both of them and they ended up
laughing. They tentatively resumed their "friendship",
slowly getting back to where they had been.
By the time Peter's family barbecue came around, they
both had shaken off the effects of Peter's declaration
of love. He had explained he did love her, but would
never look for a response from her. He would never push
for or ask for more than she offered. He told Sharon
that she was important to him. Enough so that he would
let her set whatever pace there was to be in their
relationship.
Sharon told Peter that she felt strongly for him too.
She wasn't ready to commit to a relationship as "lovers"
and that there were things about her, about her past she
was not ready to share. Peter's response was that he
didn't care at all about he past, that he knew the
person she was inside and that was who he loved. They
resolved to not put any label on what they had together,
and to just let things develop as they would.
The barbecue was held at Peter's grandparent's home. His
grandparent's had passed away some years before, and the
house and grounds were held in joint trust by all of
Peter's relatives. It was an enormous estate and used by
any of the family whenever they were in the area, as
well as for family get-togethers. There was a couple who
lived in the carriage house and served as caretakers.
By the time Peter and Sharon arrived there were close to
200 people already there. They covered 4 generations of
the Hutchinson clan. It took nearly an hour for Peter to
take Sharon around and introduce her to everyone. When
he introduced her to his parents, they recognized her
immediately from the awards dinner.
His father was cordial, but a bit cool. His mother was
more easygoing, and although she wondered about her son
seeing someone from a lower social class, Sharon's smile
and self-deprecating demeanor soon won her over. His
mother took charge of Sharon and they walked off arm in
arm. His mother was fascinated with Sharon's work with
the hospital and had a million questions about what
celebrities she had worked with.
Peter was left standing with his father, smiling as he
watched the two most important women in his life become
friends.
"So tell me Peter, is this girl another frivolous
fling?" His father was always harping about Peter
getting serious, settling down and "taking care of
business".
"No Dad, she isn't. She's very special. I've never met
anyone like her. We've been seeing each other for months
and we are taking things slow, getting to know each
other."
"Well, what do you know about her? Where's she from?
What's her background? What's her family history? What
do her parents do? Where did she go to college? You know
you have to be careful. I don't really think she's right
for our social circle. She seems very common. She may
just be after the Hutchinson money, trying to get to it
through you." His father would have gone on, and in the
past he would have reacted to his father with angry
shouts.
"Dad, I don't know where she's from, what her background
is, what her net worth is and I don't care about your
precious social circle. I DO know that she is the
kindest, gentlest, most unselfish, unpretentious,
modest, down-to-earth person I have ever known. If it
wasn't for her and how she's helped me, you would not be
seeing me here today.
"I had gotten to the point where I began to hate you.
But she's helped me get past the fact that you are such
a stiff-necked, arrogant bastard and love you in spite
of yourself."
His response, delivered in such a matter-of-fact tone,
and accompanied by Peter's boyish grin, left the elder
Hutchinson speechless. With a chuckle Peter left his
father standing there with his mouth open, and he set
off to find his cousin Sid and see about starting a
softball game.
When he recovered his composure, Peter's father went
into the house. He had things to find out and he knew
just who to call.
The family had chosen teams for the softball games. The
kids had a game going in one field, the adults and teens
in another. The older folks and babies watched and
cheered. As it turned out Peter and Sharon ended up on
opposing teams. She looked great. She was wearing pink
shorts, white Reeboks, white and pink athletic ankle
socks, a hand-painted white blouse with a picture of
teddy bears and butterflies across the back, and a pink
cotton baseball type cap.
Peter had worn a pair of hiking shorts and a polo shirt,
but by now it was hot enough most of the men had
stripped down to bare chests. Sharon thought he looked
so handsome and many of the spectators drooled over his
rugged good looks. Sharon's team had first at bats.
Whenever a woman got up to hit the men would all crowd
in and tease them mercilessly. Sharon got the same
treatment as the other ladies. Peter's cousin Sid called
to the pitcher," Take it easy on her! We don't want to
make it too hard for Petey's new girlfriend her first
time here!"
So the pitcher lofted up a big fat easy pitch. If they
were expecting Sharon to swing and whiff like some
weakling and act the part of a flighty, flirt, they were
in for a surprise. Sharon connected solidly with the
ball and used her whole lithe frame to drive it way past
the outfielders (now acting like second infielders) and
all the way back to the edge of the field. By the time
anyone recovered enough to go after it she was already
rounding second base. As she crossed home plate, well
ahead of the ball, all the women were cheering. Even the
ones on the opposing team. That would teach the men to
take the women for granted!
Later, when her team was fielding, one of the teen
cousins hit a wicked line drive straight at Sharon,
expecting her to duck or dodge aside. Instead the ball
landed in her glove with a loud "slap!" and she pegged
it to first base, catching Sid in a double play. She
certainly didn't throw like a girl! The game broke up
eventually, with no accurate score, and it was time to
eat.
Sharon and Peter found a spot under the shade of an old
maple tree. It was cooler there and away from some of
the noise. It was pleasant, as they sat, looking at each
other and just enjoying each other's company. They were
just finishing their plates when Ned Jr. came over and
told Peter his father was looking for him. Peter left
Sharon under there in the shade to find out what his old
man wanted. He didn't see his Uncle Ted, who had been
drinking a bit too much, approaching from the other
direction.
"You did WHAT?!" yelled Peter. He was outraged at his
father, nearly ready to revert back to the old
hostilities.
"You heard me. I said I had her checked out. I don't
know just what she is, but I do know she's a phony.
Until four years ago there was no record of a Sharon
Phoenix anywhere."
"Dad, what do you think gives you the right to meddle in
my affairs? It is no business of yours who I see or
where they are from." Peter struggled to remain in
control, to not let his anger best him.
"Look. As head of this family, it is my obligation to
protect it from schemers, riffraff and gold-digging
bimbos. Obviously you haven't matured enough to take
responsibility and protect the family's interest. I DID
learned that she has spent time in a psychiatric
hospital. She some sort of fruitcake son."
Seething inside Peter worked to calm himself. "She is no
fruitcake. She's had a hard time in life and had been
strong enough to seek help with depression. She sees Dr.
G just as have I. There is nothing but good in Sharon."
"I can see there's no reasoning with you. I want you to
stop seeing her. Drop her. That's an order."
His voice never colder or more stern Peter replied,
"Dad, go to hell. I intend to marry her, IF she'll have
me. I love her and you better get used to the idea."
With that he turned and left the library. His mother was
on the other side of the door. It was obvious she'd
heard their conversation.
"Good for you Peter. I love you father but he can be
such an ass at times. Sharon's a wonderful girl. Follow
your heart."
He hugged his mother close, touched by her support.
"Thanks Mom."
Peter's Uncle Ted had a reputation as a drunk and a
lecher. Today was no exception. Once he'd had enough
liquid courage, he looked for some nubile young thing he
could corner alone. He'd used his bulk and greater
strength to pin them and depend on the family motto of
"Don't make a fuss" to keep them quiet. There were few
ladies in the family he hadn't tried to score with.
Today Sharon was his intended victim. Just a couple of
things he didn't count on. One was Sharon wasn't about
to cooperate or pass him off as "harmless". The second
was fourteen year old Ned Jr. had developed quite a
crush and his eyes hadn't been off of Sharon for a
second all afternoon. When Ted tried to corner her,
Sharon pushed him back. When he tried to grab her arms
and pin her against the tree, she fought him with more
strength than he expected.
He found himself in a real struggle and made the mistake
of trying to cover her mouth to quiet her. Sharon bit
him between the thumb and forefinger. In pain he let go
with his other hand, his own yell drawing the attention
he'd sought to avoid. Everyone turned in time to see
Sharon's knee connect solidly between his thighs and her
right fist to nail him hard enough to make his head
snap. Peter had just come out of the house when the
commotion was in full swing.
His uncle writhing on the ground yelling about "that
bitch tramp", half the older generation deriding her for
"assaulting" him. Many of the women were silently
applauding her for doing what they had wanted to for
years. It was Ned who spoke up and said he'd seen
everything.
When Peter heard what his uncle had tried, he snarled,
"Uncle, you are a pathetic piece of shit. I'd beat you
senseless if Sharon hadn't already kicked your ass. I'd
better not see you again for a very long time." Ted's
wife glared at him through tears and said, "This is the
last time Ted. I've stood by and turned a blind eye to
your antics for too long. Tomorrow I'm seeing our
attorney about a divorce."
Just as Peter and Sharon turned to leave, there was
Peter's father. "Well, Peter, I see she's shown her true
colors. Fighting and causing a scene like so much POOR
WHITE TRASH. Now do you see I was right?"
Peter was about to tell his father to fuck off, but
Sharon stopped him. "Mr. Hutchinson, you may be able to
cow and bully some people. You may be able to use your
money and influence to buy your way through life. You
may not even like me very much. Personally I don't care.
I don't care about your money, influence or power. None
of it impresses me. What people DO impresses me.
"All I've seen from you is someone who abuses what they
have, someone who makes themselves big by beating others
down, someone insecure with themselves. You're a little
man with little dreams, imprisoned by your fears. You
don't live life because you're too busy trying to guard
and hoard your money. I gave up caring about other
people's opinions years ago. As much as you resent me
though, I am not angry at you. I pity you."
As Sharon and Peter finally left, his mother was there.
She hugged Sharon, and the look she gave her husband
promised a long, unpleasant night.
As he dropped her off at home Sharon said, "I'm sorry
things got so ugly today."
"It's not your fault. Uncle Ted has been deserving more
than what happened for a long time. And my father has
been in need of a good telling off for longer. But I
know my mother and everyone else loves you. So what are
two bad apples out of so many?"
She kissed him good-night, ever so gently on the lips.
With a stroke of her hand across his cheek, she closed
the door. Her answering machine was blinking furiously.
Peter's mother left a message saying not to worry about
his father. He wouldn't be causing her anymore trouble
and would she please call her May in the future. Sid
called to see if she was available to play softball next
week. He said his team needed a ringer.
But seriously he hoped she wouldn't think ill of the
rest of the family because of Ted or Petey's dad. Ted's
wife called to thank her for decking Ted. She was
holding off on seeing the lawyer for now. Ted was more
than contrite when he sobered up. Not to mention that he
was hardly able to stand or walk, and had ice packs on
his eye and "other injury".
It seemed all he'd needed was a kick in the ass. She
thanked Sharon again and asked her if they could have
lunch next week. Ted called to apologize. He knew she
probably would never want to see him again but he hoped
that somehow he could make amends. Sharon though he even
seemed to mean it.
As Peter drove home, the day replayed itself in his
mind. He smiled when he thought of how dumb they'd
looked as Sharon drove the ball over their faces. He
felt a cold anger at his father, but more than warm at
his mother's support. She'd not taken sides much while
he was younger. He chuckled at so many of his aunts and
grand-aunts commenting on "that sweet young thing"
saying he'd better not let her slip away.
Even Sid, who usually made a pass at Peter's dates, told
him Sharon was a keeper and that if he was too stupid to
marry her, then he would be FORCED to court her himself.
Court? It wasn't like Sid to speak like that. In fact
Sid usually made light of everything and was a confirmed
bachelor. Well, he and Sharon were facing a busy next
few weeks. They wouldn't be able to see each other for a
while, which gave Peter time to do something that had
been nagging at him.
**
The next day, Sharon was awakened by a knock. It was
still early and she had no idea who it could be. Peter
always called first before he came over. When she opened
the door, she was surprised to see his father standing
there. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Sharon. May I come
in?"
"Of course. Please. Can I get you some coffee?"
"No thank you, I won't take up much of your time. I came
here to apologize for my outrageous behavior. There was
no call for it. You're right, for too long I've let my
money rule my life. It, and my arrogance, almost cost me
my son. I thought things had improved between us because
he was finally seeing things my way. My wife disabused
me of that notion. She made me see that it was you who
gave him back to me. For that alone I owe more than I
can ever repay. I love my son. I always have. I guess I
don't show it enough. And I am proud of him. Proud of
the man he has become."
Sharon laid a hand on his arm. "Then go tell him. It's
never too late to start over. I know Peter loves and
respects you. You are both alike in many ways. You may
be surprised at how much you have in common."
"Well, you are the first person I couldn't intimidate or
infuriate. I respect that. You're quite a remarkable
young woman. It isn't every day you find someone with
your blend of compassion and strength. Like silk covered
steel. Thank you again."
With that he took his leave. Sharon, closed to door,
humming and smiling.
It promised to be a great day.
**
Peter and Sharon were out celebrating. Peter's business
had hit 10 million dollars in sales. The program Sharon
had begun at the Children's Hospital was being adopted
at other hospitals all over the country. She had used
her contacts as a make-up artist to pull together
artists, surgeons, chemists from all over the country.
They had developed a network to provide cosmetic care
and facial reconstruction for disfigured children and
adults nationwide. Best yet it was funded totally by
donations and didn't cost hospitals or patients a dime.
She had also gotten a contract to head up the make-up
and special effects for a major motion picture. It meant
going away on location overseas for 6 months, and a year
in the states. Not to mention 6 months of heavy work
planning the effects. Crystal Illusions had hit it big.
After dinner they strolled through "their" park. The
stars were out and it was so clear. When they got to the
bench where they had met, Peter asked her to sit.
"I have something important to ask you. I don't want to
pressure you. Take as long as you need to answer. I'll
wait for as long as it takes." He reached into his
pocket and drew out a small velvet box.
He feared another severe reaction, as when he first
proclaimed his love. But lately Sharon had seemed less
fearful, less skittish about intimacy. Dropping to one
knee, Peter opened the box. Inside was a flawless 1
carat diamond solitaire. It was set in platinum and
gleamed in the lamplight. "Sharon, I would be honored if
you would consent to accepting my hand in marriage.
Sharon, I love you will you marry me?"
Sharon's heart beat furiously. She'd sensed this day
would come. She both dreaded it and looked forward to
it. "Either I can surrender to my fear forever, or I can
face it down," she thought. "Peter, I love you too.
Before I can answer, there are things you have to know.
Please take me home. I have something you have to see
before I can explain."
When they got to her house Sharon had Peter sit while
she went into the bedroom. She came out holding what
appeared to be a picture. "Peter, before I met you I was
married. I had a son, a small boy. I loved my family
with all my heart. They were my entire life. But I also
had other problems to deal with, things that caused me
to begin leading a double life. I would have never done
anything to hurt my family, but I'm not perfect. In
regards to this I was weak. One night while I was away
from home, indulging my secret life, there was an
accident.
"A fire broke out and my family was killed, our home
destroyed, burned to the ground. I blamed myself. If I
had been there the fire never would have happened. If it
had I could have gotten them out in time. If I had been
responsible they would still be alive.
"My son would be 7 years old now. I managed to stay
together until the funeral was over. No one could hear
me screaming in my mind. Once they were laid to rest I
tried to kill myself, because I felt I didn't deserve to
live. After failing even that I met Dr. G. He literally
saved my life. He helped me resolve some of the things
that had troubled me before the fire. He helped me learn
to live with the pain and guilt."
Peter already knew most of this. He could sense there
was something more. Handing him the picture, she told
him, "This is a picture of me and my family." It was the
same photograph he'd seen in her bedroom. The little boy
must be her son. But he didn't understand. The woman in
the picture didn't even faintly resemble Sharon. She was
too short for one. Her eyes were the wrong color, hers
were brown and Sharon's were green. She didn't have the
beauty mark Sharon had by her lip.
"Peter, the family I lost was my wife and son. I'm the
person on the left." Peter looked totally lost. The
person on the left was the man. Was Sharon trying to
tell him she was a man? No way. "Peter, you said you'd
give me time. I know this is a shock to you. I will
understand if you don't want to see me again. Go home
now. Call me in a few days if you want to talk and I'll
try to answer your questions if you have any. If you
don't call I will understand."
In a daze Peter left, his mind whirling. He hadn't seen
Dr. G in a couple of months. Maybe he could help him
sort this out, make some sense of it all. He couldn't
see or hear the silent anguished sobs coming from the
other side of the door.
It was a very confused and distraught Peter that saw Dr.
G the next day. He looked as if he hadn't slept. In fact
he hadn't. Peter hadn't even gone home. He'd walked all
night, his mind a whirl of emotions and questions.
Finally when the sun was fully up, he'd stopped at a pay
phone and called the doctor.
"Doc, I don't get it. Not at all." He'd related the
evening's events to Dr. G, from their celebratory dinner
to Peter's proposal and Sharon's revelations. Dr. G's
brow was furrowed in thought.
"Peter, given the situation and the fact that Sharon has
told you her deepest secret, I feel I can fill you in a
bit more. You see, son, Sharon is transgendered. That
means that she is of mixed gender. Now understand, we
all have male and female components to our mental and
physical make-up.
"Typically, we lean predominantly more one way than the
other. In the transgendered person, these traits are not
so polarized. Many have very strong components of each.
Or their physical and mental genders are out of sync.
Sharon is somewhere in there. When she was married she
struggled for years with her inner turmoil. She was born
physically male, but her mind and feelings had a very
large female aspect.
"This is what lead her to leading a double life. She was
a transvestite, or so she came to label herself. She
would take time to go off and dress and act like a
woman. I don't mean she'd go out looking for men, but
just take on the outward appearance and mannerisms of a
woman. Then she'd go out and do very normal things, take
in a movie, have dinner, go shopping. She didn't get to
that point overnight, but slowly over a period of years.
The entire time she would be riddled with guilt."
"But Doc, surely her wife must have known?"
"No, Peter, and that's where the guilt came from. You
see most transgendered people live with the constant
fear of discovery, live with the fear of rejection, of
being labeled freaks and perverts."
"Well Doc, it IS pretty strange. I mean men are men and
women are women. Except for gays I guess."
"Now you're confusing gender with sexuality. They aren't
the same at all.
Gender has to do with emotions, feelings, attitudes, how
you look at things. Sex is about the physical person.
Sexuality is about who we find attractive and sexually
stimulating. A person can't do anything about their
gender. They can change their sex. They can either come
to terms with their sexuality or let it rule them. There
are more options than just heterosexual and homosexual.
There is also bi-sexuality where the person is attracted
to both sexes. There is asexuality, where the person
really has little or no sexual drives. There is also,
like gender, a lot of gray areas."
"So are you saying Sharon is gay? Or has she had a sex-
change? Or is she one of those she-males you hear about
in those porn magazines?"
"In Sharon's case I believe that she reacts to a
person's essential self, without regard for their
physical sex. So in effect she is not gay, but falls
into one of those gray areas. She is neither she-male,
nor has she had sexual re- assignment surgery. I believe
Sharon was on the border between the transvestite and
the transsexual.
"The trauma and guilt over losing her family, her
attempt at suicide, was the catalyst for her to become a
transsexual. She felt her feminine alter-ego, and her
everyday male self were to blame for her family's death.
So she felt they too had to die, resulting in her
suicide attempt. Her mind especially sought to purge the
existence of her male ego. She was left with just the
purest essence of her female psyche."
"But why didn't she then get the surgery you talked
about? Why not go ahead and become what she portrays?"
"That too is a result of the guilt. She did allow
herself electrolysis, to remove the male aspects of her
body and facial hair. She had some very minor cosmetic
surgeries to give her a more feminine facial appearance.
But for her to let herself become totally female, would
mean she'd have to forgive herself, let herself heal.
That she couldn't do because she feels she should be
punished."
"Oh, that's so sad. She isn't to blame for anything. I
can't imagine having to live with that kind of pain
everyday. Doc. I don't know what to do, how to handle
this. I love her, but as a woman. It's how I know her.
If she hasn't done anything to become female, then why
is it she looks so much like one? Besides, I'm not gay.
I have no desire to be with a man. But I don't know her
as one. I'm so damned confused!"
"Peter, remember she's a make-up artist. She deals with
creating illusions every day. She's one of the best in
her field and has pulled off some amazing
transformations. I can't tell you what to do. I can
suggest you look inside yourself. Decide if you love
Sharon as a person, for who she is, as opposed to what
she looks like. Look into your heart and let it lead
you."
Peter left, finally to go home. he was physically and
emotionally drained.
He needed time to think and sort things out.
**
Two days later, Peter got a call from Dr. G. Sharon had
been hit by a car and was in intensive care. She might
not make it he said. Since she had no family Dr. G had
arranged for Peter to be able to visit her. If he wanted
to. Without a moment's thought Peter sped to the
hospital. He was assured that Sharon was getting the
very best of care.
She was well loved by the staff and everyone was praying
she would pull through. When he saw Dr. G, he was handed
a letter addressed to him. Sharon was crossing the
street to mail it when she was struck. The driver's
brakes had failed for no apparent reason. He had been
cleared of any negligence. It was simply a tragic
accident. Peter opened the letter and began to read:
"Dear Peter,
I am sorry for hurting you. I should never have let you
or anyone become involved with me. It wasn't right to
tangle up someone else in my messed up world. I'm sorry
for having deceived you. I hope someday you can forgive
my selfishness. I am leaving town. I have contacted a
Realtor to sell my house. I won't mess up your life any
further. You will never have to see me again. I have
ruined someone's life for the last time.
Good-bye and love
Sharon"
Shaking, tears freely running down his face, Peter went
into the ICU. Taking Sharon's hand in his, he began to
speak, softly. If anyone were to get close they would
have heard, "Sharon, don't leave me. I love you and I
need you. Please come back to me." Peter turned as he
felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see his father
standing there. His mother was off to one side. "Peter,
we're so sorry. We came as soon as we heard." With that
Peter's father embraced him. Then his mother entered the
circle and they kept vigil together.
**
Over the next 3 days they took shifts staying with
Sharon. Peter was touched. His father never left the
hospital. In all his life he'd never seen his father
stay away from his office for so long, and never for
anything that wasn't planned in advance. He sensed a
fundamental change in him, and that he really cared.
Peter's relative and friends all came by, people from
the theaters, the hospitals, some of the families that
Sharon had helped all sent cards and flowers. There were
so many that Peter's mother arranged to have them
brought around to patients who had none. She felt it was
something Sharon would have wanted done.
One night, Peter was sprawled in the chair by her bed,
half asleep. Her face was framed by a shaft of moonlight
coming from the window. She'd been brought out of ICU
but hadn't recovered consciousness. His heart ached to
see her, lying helpless, her face swollen and bruised,
the wires and tubes and bandages seemed abominable on
someone as special as her. He lowered his head and began
to weep, his shoulders shaking. Then someone was holding
his hand, "there, there, don't cry. It will be all
right." He looked up and saw Sharon gazing back at him.
"I thought I lost you. I CAN'T lose you. Not now, not
ever."
"Peter, I..."
"Hush. Please let me say this. Sharon, I love you. When
I thought about losing you, I couldn't bear it. No
matter what else, I want to spend the rest of my life
with you. I'll marry you, no matter how that has to be
worked out, if you'll have me. I talked with my lawyer.
Even if the state wouldn't recognize our union, I can
still provide for you just as if it did. I want you as
my wife, no matter what anyone says. No matter what else
you decide or how you want to continue, please say we'll
be together."
"I love you too, Peter. Are you sure of what you're
saying?"
"I've never been more certain of anything."
"Then I guess I have to say... Yes."
"Look you rest now. I have to tell Mom and Dad the good
news. They been here the whole time waiting with me."
"How long?"
"You've been gone from us for four days."
"Peter, please, get Dr. G. I have something I need to
discuss with him."
**
The next day it was a jubilant Peter that went to the
hospital. Hi mother and father were with him. The entire
hospital seemed brighter and cheerier. The good news of
Sharon's recovery must have spread overnight. When they
got to ICU, they were met by Dr. G. "Sharon's not here.
She's transferred to a private hospital."
"Not here? Where is she?"
"We had a long discussion last night. Sharon needs some
rehabilitation for her injuries. She also needs some
time. There are things she needs to do, and I agreed
with her. Oh, Peter, before I forget, you left the ring
in my office the other night."
"Where is it Doc?"
"The last time I saw it, it was on Sharon's left ring
finger." The Doc had a grin that would have done a
Cheshire cat proud. "Mrs. Hutchinson, since Sharon has
no living relatives, she said you're the closest thing
she has to a mother. She asked if you'd help plan her
wedding. Seems she accepted Peter's proposal. She said
she would be taking care of the gown, but is leaving the
rest up to you and Peter. She drew up a list of her
friends she'd like to invite. She said you have six
months to get things ready. Then she'll be back."
Mrs. Hutchinson had always wanted a daughter. It looked
like she was going to get one. She couldn't wait to get
started. Try as they might peter and his father couldn't
find out anything from anyone as to where Sharon was or
what she was up to. It promised to be a long six months
for Peter.
Sharon gazed at her reflection in the long mirror. She'd
recovered from her injuries. With the help of the staff
here, and Dr. G, she also finished the emotional
recovery she'd needed for so long. She marveled as she
slowly ran her hands over her figure. Her breasts, no
longer silicone and paint, rose perkily. Full rounded
with rosy nipples, she couldn't believe they were really
hers. They weighed more than she was used to, but she'd
adjusted fairly well.
Thanks to the hormones and the skilled surgeons Dr. G
had put her in touch with, her waist narrowed a bit more
than when she'd had to corset herself. Gone was the
padded girdle. Now her own hips flared nicely, blending
from her waist to buttocks in a way no artificial hips
ever could. Her taut stomach ran down to the tiny patch
of pubic hair she had left, to her new sex.
The doctors had all done a remarkable job. >From the
surgeon for her sexual re-assignment surgery, to the
plastic surgeons who performed her other alterations, to
the endocrinologist, all the nurses, she owed so much to
everyone. Foremost was Dr. G. because of the years he'd
spend as her psychiatrist, and the time she'd been
living as a woman, Sharon only had to go through the
hormones and surgery to complete what had begun so long
ago.
"Oh dear, you make such a beautiful bride! I'm sorry I'm
weepy, but this is the happiest day ever!" May
Hutchinson had in truth become Sharon's surrogate
mother. During this last week of wedding preparation
they had become as close as if they were blood. Peter's
father had also been walking around happy as a clam.
People had been asking him if he'd had a face-lift. But
it was simply that they were so unused to seeing him
smile. He was more relaxed these days, and he and Peter
had spent time together catching up on so much they'd
missed together.
Sharon's dress was understated elegance. White satin
with touches of lace and pearls, just a few rhinestones.
It was high necked, long-sleeved, flaring a the top but
fitted from the elbows down. It had a long train and her
veil was a confection of lace and pearls. Her bouquet
was white roses.
Underneath was the naughtiest, sexiest white satin and
lace lingerie she could find. Peter had been waiting for
six long months for his bride. She knew it had been hard
on him. He'd been calling several times a day since
she'd left the clinic, but she'd made him wait until
today to see her. She intended to see him *VERY* well
rewarded.
Her maid of honor was the young man that Peter had been
confronted by at the play "Cats". Sharon had a lot of
friends in the theater, so the reception was an unusual
blend. Her theatrical and unusual friends, many people
from the hospitals she worked with, the elite and
powerful bluebloods who knew the Hutchinson's, Peter's
relatives, all intermingling. Sid was Peter's best man.
He kept reminding Peter that he got to kiss the bride,
and that he intended to thoroughly enjoy it.
The church was filled to capacity. The organist began
the wedding march. Dr. G escorted Sharon down the aisle,
as her surrogate father. She said he'd been there all
through her painful re-birth. He felt truly honored to
be able to perform this service for her. Peter looked
thrilled and terrified, so handsome in his tuxedo. He
was fidgeting like a little boy, and Sharon had to fight
back a giggle. Soon they all heard those long awaited
words, "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you
man and wife!"
As their lips met in their first passionate kiss, as
they began their new life together as husband and wife,
the sun shone through the stained glass spotlighting
them. From the tragedy of fire so long ago, Sharon had
been re-born. She'd lived up to her name and become like
the Phoenix - risen from the ashes to blaze forth in
glory!
Finis?
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 67