Keeping the Books -2

by:	Marianne Wright

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Rating: R	Add Review   Read Reviews, Last Review 06/10/07 (1)	Added: 06/10/2007
Complete: yes
Synopsis:	Jeremy leaves his job to becomer Carol and work for his uncle. Secure in his feminine persona Jeremy develops as Carol and falls in love.
Categories:	Crossdressing / TV  Seasonal
Keywords:	Autobiographical

By the exit there were a number of phone booths and a table with some phone books so I spent a moment looking up florists. "Carols Flowers", Christine's Floral Design", "Danniset Florist" but no Colonial Heights Florist. I checked the book and it was for Southern Westchester County. No big deal Emily or Annette could tell me where to go for plants and flowers.

On the way back I noticed a silver van behind me that made every turn I did. I wondered about it as I drove and was just starting to feel paranoid when it sped up and passed me. I relaxed and noticed that there was now a motorcycle behind me. I pitied the rider; it was going to cold on the bike tonight, though maybe he had one of those heated suits that ran off the bike's battery. The bike stayed behind me until I turned into the Martin's drive and then it accelerated and was gone before I could get a good look at it.

Back at the apartment I assembled the lamp, discovered I had no spare light bulbs and laughed at myself. I put on the tea kettle and settled down with the magazine to read about fashions and "The New Makeup Trick That Will Make Your Eyes Shout HOLLYWOOD".

Looking at the magazine made me think about my looks and fashion. I took off my clothes and sponged down, then opened my closet and looked at the clothes. As so often happened, one of my hands crept up and started stroking a breast and I felt a shiver go through me. I looked down and noticed a bit of an erection and let my other hand cuddle my penis as I stared at my clothes.

I took out some bright red panties and pulling them up tucked myself in as best I could. Then I took out some nightclothes I hadn't yet worn. I selected some red satin pajamas. They had a lace trimmed collar and the top button of the blouse was pretty low. I pulled them on and stood in front of my mirror.

Feeling self conscious I struck some poses that I thought a model might take on a runway. I held my head up, stuck a foot forward and put a hand on my hip. I pouted; I smiled, all in all playing the fool. Thinking that it might be fun I pulled out my digital camera and the tripod and using the self timer took about a dozen pictures. I did not know why I took them but it was fun and I did not delete them.

When I went to bed I kept on the red pajamas but I was just too erotically charged so ended up with the lights low, some music playing and some tissues while I gave myself what relief I could find. I slept soundly and woke ready to face the next day.



Chapter 7: Vans and Cars.

I started the day as usual with stretches and a run. This time there was a small red car parked on the street with a man inside reading a newspaper. He didn't look up when I left or came back and when I left my apartment to start the day I noticed the car was gone. I spoke with Annette for a while and then we sat at our respective desks to work on bills, donations and getting the books in order.

Uncle Peter had given me permission to order QuickBooks and I had Annette place the order on her credit card. I also went online to Staples and we placed an order for a variety of office needs such as a calculator.

When we broke for lunch I put on my jacket and gloves and went off on the scooter to the post office. After picking up the mail I went and opened an account at the local bank. Mr. Carmichael had provided me with some papers as had my New Jersey bank and it was no problem to open a checking account in the name of Carol Baker. The bank also offered to set me up with a credit card but I decided to wait on that and hope my renamed cards would come through soon.

From there it was a round about ride back to the Martin's place. Now I was really getting suspicious. No one was parked near the house but about fifty yards from the house there was a bend and no houses nearby. I could see that a silver van was parked just in sight around the bend. Curiosity took over and I took the scooter past the van and then after riding for about a minute turned around and came back. I could see nobody in the van. All, very strange.

I grabbed a quick bite from the kitchen took a deep breath and pulled out Jean's bank statements. I have a sense for numbers and before I had finished scanning three months of bank statements I knew something was out of balance. By the time 5:30 rolled around I was certain the something was wrong. Based on what Annette told me and what a glance at the household account and what Uncle Peter's accounts said, Jean received approximately 26 thousand dollars a year from various sources. Assuming Annette was wrong about the alimony and it was 50% more, Jean still was still receiving less than 40 grand.

The money going into the account was in that area, but Jean was driving a late model BMW, she carried a big Nikon digital, her clothing was top of the mark and the handbag she was carrying the day before would have cost her at least $500. Somewhere there was other money moving around. For now there was nothing I needed to do about the discrepancy but I filed it away for future reference.

Back at my apartment I went through my mail. I paid a few bills using Jeremy's Mastercard, grabbed a couple of "I've moved" postcards to send to magazines (with a request to switch the subscriptions to Carol Baker) and skimmed an article about the new Yamaha cruisers. Then I stepped out and noticed that the air was warm and decided to ride North on Rt. 9 until I found a place to eat.

I went inside and took off my casual but nice clothing and pulled on a gaff and a pair of skin tight blue jeans. My riding boots went over the pants and I pulled on a black turtleneck and a leather vest. Then I grabbed warm gloves, my helmet and jacket and went out to hit the roads.

As I started down the driveway Uncle Peter waved me down and we talked for a while. I mentioned I was heading north and he suggested a restaurant in a town called Croton and gave me some confused directions on how to get there.

Once I was out of Tarrytown, Rt. 9 settled down into a standard suburban secondary road. Portions were pretty and portions were strip mall. As I was entering Ossining a rider on a cruiser passed me going South and I could see in my mirror that he swung the bike around and was chasing me.

As much as I like my Bergman 400 it isn't a racing bike and anyway it was too nice an evening to get scared by riding fast. As the cruiser came up to me the rider raised the face shield and smiled. It was Alan and he shouted over the thumping of his machine.

"Hey where' ya going".

"Looking for dinner."

"OK, follow me".

At that Alan gunned the Victory and took off going just fast enough that I had to concentrate on my riding but not so fast as to be obnoxious. He took a side road and shortly we were at a small place with a flashing sign that declared we had reached "Carlo's. The Best Northern Italian Restaurant In Town".

We parked our bikes among another four or five there and as I stepped off the scooter I could feel Alan's eyes going up and down my legs and ass. I couldn't help it, so I just bent over the scooter and pretended to be adjusting something while I gave him a close look at my attributes. Then I neatened my hair in a mirror and locked my helmet to the scooter.

When I was done playing games, I came over and waited for some clumsy comment but all he said was "I hope you like Italian". I indicated that I did and undoing my waist pack slung it over my shoulder and followed him in to the place.

Carlo's was one of those restaurants that is more than a bar and grill without being fancy. The crowd was mixed with some biker leather on display along with middle class families and some singles. Alan led me to the bar and asked what I wanted to drink. I looked over the selection on the board, asked for Amstel Light and went and sat down at an empty table.

I sat looking at the other diners and wondered what secrets they had. As my eyes moved around occasionally I'd catch the eye of someone looking at me. Alan came back and put my beer in front of me.

"Checking out the competition?"

I smiled back. "No just looking around. I like to watch people. This is a mixed crowd, isn't it?"

"Yes. I like this place. I stumbled on it while riding a couple of months ago. I saw some bikes outside so I came in and I've been eating here about once a week ever since."

Our conversation moved back and forth as we drank our beers and ordered food. I gave him some details of the work I had done at Teneris and what I was doing for the Martins and learned that Alan worked for the US Treasury Department doing bank inspections. He told me that he had accumulated a lot of vacation time and decided that instead of taking it in one big chunk he would fritter it away in one and two day pieces, enjoying just being lazy, taking day rides and seeing the local area.

When we finished the main courses I looked at my watch and was shocked to find it was almost 10:00. I said I had to be on my way but was persuaded to have a cup of coffee before I hit the road. Alan argued about splitting the bill but I insisted we go Dutch and after paying we went outside. It had cooled down a lot but was still a nice evening. Alan said he was going to head north for a bit and we chatted for a little.

Just before I put on my helmet Alan seemed a bit hesitant about something and I wondered if he was thinking of kissing me. Then the moment passed.

"I have to make a call" he said pulling out his cell phone. "Keep the rubber side down."

I waved, thumbed the starter button and left the parking lot as Alan began punching numbers into his phone while trying to wave goodbye at the same time. The ride back was uneventful and I was beginning to appreciate that Westchester drivers were nicer than the ones around Hoboken. After about 20 minutes I pulled onto the Martin's road and noticed the silver van parked on the side of the road again. By now I was getting a bit concerned and decided to discuss it with Uncle Peter next time I had a chance.

When I parked the scooter and got up to my apartment I found a note stuck under my door asking if I'd join the Annette and Uncle Peter for breakfast at 7:00. I set my alarm early, washed up and for the first time in my new place slept soundly without dreams.



Chapter 8: Settling In

The alarm woke me and after exercising and showering I worked on my voice for about half an hour. At breakfast the Martin's and I discussed some of the charities they donated to and I laid out some of the problems with the household accounts I had found. I skipped over my questions about Jean's income. After we discussed money for a bit I mentioned the cars and vans I had seen parked one the local road.

"You know I've noticed the silver van as well. I think it's some local workmen." said Annette.

Uncle Peter said nothing for a moment and then spoke up. "It's worth checking out. There have been some burglaries. We have an alarm system of course but I'll talk to Detective Arnold next time I see him. It's probably nothing."

From there the conversation drifted to hair salons and just before 8:00 Uncle Peter went to catch the train and Annette left shortly afterwards to meet a client. I sat and read the paper for a few more minutes and was just getting up when my phone rang.

"High Jer.. Carol; it's Chuck I thought I grab you for a few minutes before I ran off to class."

Chuck and I gossiped for a few minutes and then he came out with the reason for his call.

"I was wondering if we could get together. I thought you could come down to the city for an evening and I'd treat you to dinner."

"Or you could come up and be my first dinner guest in my apartment here." I replied.

We went back and forth a bit until I agreed to join him in New York about 6:00 for dinner on Thursday. Chuck would meet me a Grand Central Terminal and I'd be back on a train to Tarrytown before 11:00.

Feeling good about that I went back to my apartment with an extra phone book the Martins had around and washed up before going back to get down to work. I put the phone book down next to my map and located the hair salon, the nearest Unitarian Church and a florist and made some notes in my PDA. Then I grabbed my bag and headed back to Annette's office.

My first task of the day was setting up a database that would track all of the household accounts and expenses by type. I'm a good database programmer but I am a slow one so it was almost 2 hours before I had the very basics finished. I stood up and stretched and decided to see if I could get some coffee or tea in the kitchen.

As I approached I could hear Jean's voice in the living room. From the one sided nature of the words it was obvious she was on the phone. I stopped and listened to a litany of complaints. Her brother was stingy with the money and wouldn't put a deck on the back of the house she shared with Claire. Claire wouldn't put any money into art for the house. Peter had the nerve to hire a bookkeeper who would actually look at all "I mean all" the accounts! And so on and so on.

I decided to be diplomatic and went back to the office. Instead of going back to work though I called the salon and to my surprise managed to get an appointment a 4:45. I figured I'd hit the post office first, get my hair done and do a little shopping on the way home.

I called the credit card companies (hey I want my reissued cards). I made some more notes in the PDA and then leaving the office for the second time closed the door a little loudly and walked into the kitchen.

Jean was in the kitchen having a cup of coffee and I smiled and said good morning and received a chilly response. Emily poured me a cup and tried to get me to take a few cookies.

Trying to lighten the atmosphere I looked at Jean's sweater and commented how much I liked it and asked if she had purchase it locally. I might as well have been talking to a machine. She told me it was from Macy's in White Plains and stopped talking. A few minutes later she stood up and walked out of the kitchen.

Emily and I talked for a bit about local shopping and her kids. Then she looked at me and said "Can I ask a personal question?"

The chills ran up my spine and my stomach lurched. "Oh shit" I thought "I've been made." Maybe being found out was inevitable but I had hoped it would take longer.

I nodded a bit hesitantly.

"I know you're Mr. Martin's niece, but looking at you I was wondering if you maybe had some other blood in you; like Yugoslavian or something."

I stopped holding my breath, smiled and agreed that it was something like that. In fact my father is Polish which was close enough to satisfy Emily who went into an involved story about a neighbor of hers who looked a bit like me and was from Europe.

Then I ducked offers for lunch and headed back to the office to finish work on the data base. I'd tackle the charity questions after lunch and be done a bit after 4:00 so I could head into town.

I ate lunch at my place and Annette came back about 2:30 and went over some of the expenses and donations with me. I mentioned that I thought that after another two or so weeks there just wouldn't be enough work for me.

"Oh Carol you are so wrong" laughed Annette. "We are planning some renovations and some one is going to have to manage the jobs, watch the contractors and pay the bills. Trust me once November hits you will be busy."

Just before 4:00 I shut down the computer and called it a day. At Teneris I usually was in by 8:30 and rarely left before 6:00. This relaxed pace made me feel guilty but I had to remind myself that I was doing what the Martin's wanted and to ease off on myself.

I decided that if I was going to get my hair done I wanted to look feminine so I went back to my place to change.

I was already in a gaff because I had dressed in lightweight slacks so I decided to go with a tailored skirt in a dark green and brown pattern. I put a tan striped sweater over that. The sweater's neckline was cut a bit low and I added one of the new chains. Panty hose and brown shoes with a small heel completed the picture. I pulled on the leather jacket I had worn to Fockele's and headed out the door with my map tucked in my hand bag.

As usual the Ford didn't want to wake up and I made a note to ask Uncle Peter about finding a used car and drove to the Post Office. I had a few pieces of mail and stood off to the side looking them over.

"Hi, didn't I see you on a scooter at the park a few days ago?"

I looked up to see a woman about my age smiling at me.

"Yes I was down by the river on Sunday."

"Oh. Hi, my name's Christine. I've been trying to persuade my husband that my getting a scooter would be a good idea but he's unhappy about the safety issues."

"Well there is a risk." I said. "But if you take a rider's course, and wear good clothing you can cut the risk down a lot. I'd love to talk but I have to get my hair done. Here's my number (quick scribbling on a piece of paper) maybe we can get together and talk."

Christine agreed with a smile. As I walked out of the Post office I saw a Camry sedan with a terrier in the back and remembered the couple with the dog at the park. I whistled at the dog, got in my car and drove to the salon, making only two wrong turns on the way and arrived about one minute early.

Compared to the Green Creek Spa this was a straightforward hair cutter. Everyone was pleasant and my hair was washed, cut and set. I had my nails redone and within an hour was back out the door. I was happy with the cut I got but I missed the relaxed pampering of the spa and resolved to find a nice spa and go to it a couple of times a year as a treat.

It was a short walk to the florist and I purchased a fall assortment of cut flowers and a vase. Then I drove to the Grand Union and picked up some chicken thighs and a few other items from my shopping list and headed back home.

It struck me on the drive back that for the first time I had thought "home" when I thought about the apartment. I was settling in. I felt comfortable asking Chuck to come up for dinner. I was making the place my own. Maybe I'd ask Claire if she wanted to join me for coffee and I'd try and bake something. I had some cook books and the necessary flour, sugar, etc. it might be fun to be a homemaker.

As I parked the car Claire saw me and walked over to say hello. She looked me up and down and complimented me on my looks, and I told her I just had my hair done. We gossiped a bit about people on the road and I told her about having dinner with Alan at Carlo's. Then I went upstairs and put away the groceries and put the flower in the vase and added water. They made a difference but the real change occurred when I put a light bulb in the floor lamp and turned it on.

The light flowed into the room and the place came alive. Yes I still needed to hang some art work but it looked good as it was. I thought about having people up for coffee or even dinner and thought about asking Alan over.

As I thought about Alan I wondered if he had wanted to kiss me the previous night. He seemed to be leaning in that direction. Did I want to be kissed? Did I want to get involved with a man at this point?

I had a brief affair with a member of the law firm that Teneris used for some of its work. Dan had been nice and gentle and only my second male lover. When we split up, it was in a very friendly fashion, I was left very confused. I had had a few girls or woman as lovers and that was nice. So was sex with Dan. I talked it over with Dr. Phillips and even though we returned to the subject more times than I was comfortable with I just didn't know what I wanted.

I thought about Alan and about being in bed with Dan and realized that I was getting aroused. I closed the curtains and pulled off my pantyhose and gaff and settled into my favorite chair. My left hand went under my skirt and my right slipped under my sweater. I closed my eyes and fantasized about an evening in the apartment with an unnamed man. He blended the features of Dan and Alan and we didn't get to finish dinner before we led each other into the bedroom.

By the time I broke out of my reverie it was dark outside and my stomach was trying to remind me that fantasy is fine but some parts of the body need to be fed not stroked. I changed into my running suit turned on the stove and sat down to look at the mail while the oven heated up.

I slipped my cell phone and PDA in the chargers and fired up my lap top to look over e-mails. Most of them were junk but there was a nice e-mail from my mother, and an interesting announcement from my church in New Jersey about their 75th year anniversary.

Then I slipped the chicken into the oven. I put some water on the boil for veggies and turned on the radio to listen to the news. I thought about getting a TV (the place was wired for cable) and tried to decide if I really wanted it. Maybe for renting movies I thought but that was about it so I could stick with DVDs on my computer.

I ate dinner; read and then curiosity took over. I poured myself a glass of wine, turned off the lights and pulled a chair over to the window to watch the darkness. Public Radio played in the background discussing the rebuilding of the West Side Drive and the effect on some landmark buildings and time passed. About 11:20 I noticed some lights moving about in the back. By now I could determine approximately where they were and these were behind the fence and not on the Martin's property.

I thought back to what I had seen earlier. The lights moved in an L- shaped pattern. They moved from right to left and then turned away from the fence for a bit. Then the lights disappeared for about five minutes before reappearing and reversing the path. The whole sequence was repeated three times and took about ten minutes each time. By mid-night activity had stopped and I sponge bathed, climbed in PJs and went to bed.



Chapter 9: Back to Manhattan:

I arranged with the Martins to take Thursday afternoon off and when I finished some work I drove my car to the station and headed into the city. I had an appointment to see Dr. Phillips and then had some shopping to do before meeting Chuck at Grand Central Terminal. The sky looked threatening so I went with the ankle boots that were reasonably comfortable to walk in and based the rest of my clothing around them. I wore a slightly conservative dark blue dress and had my leather coat and took an umbrella in case the weather turned bad.

At 2:15 I sat down with Dr. Phillips. I had not seen him since a few days before the move and we started with a discussion about how I felt about what I was doing and then moved on to finding a therapist in the Tarrytown area. It wasn't until we started discussing Alan and my questions about the various cars and vans I had been seeing that he seemed concerned.

By the end of the hour I was angry at him for pushing me on my thoughts about Alan and hinting (OK coming right out and saying) that I was probably feeling uncomfortable with a new name, a new life style and a new home and was reflecting this by being suspicious (at least he didn't say paranoid) about things.

None-the-less I made an appointment for two weeks, to be cancelled if I found a local psychologist. I felt unsettled by the visit but reminded myself that Dr. Phillips wasn't there to make me feel good but to help me deal with changes in my life. I sat in a Starbucks and sipped a coffee for a bit and then decided to hit the shops.

I looked at skirts, dresses and handbags and bought nothing until I reached the third store. I was looking at a pair of dressy black velvet slacks with a silver chain belt that would do well for parties or fancy dining when the saleswoman came up. We talked for a minute or two and she showed my some other choices and then made a comment about fit.

"The black slacks would look nice, that cut does very well for our special clients."

There was something in the way she said "special" that made my head swivel quickly and stare at her. She was smiling and holding the black slacks up.

"You've got good hips but you're a little flat in the back so the drape of these would do better than the red ones you looked at earlier."

I decided I had to take the chance "You figured it out?"

She smiled and nodded. "Oh yes, but I've been in sales for about fifteen years and you get to notice things. You are good though. I mean really good. Why don't you try on these and we'll see how it looks."

I took the pants into the changing area and closed the door of the booth then sat down on the little bench. I was shaking. It had been almost two months since I was last spotted. I took a deep breath. The last time it was at a book store and the clerk had been snotty and unpleasant. This woman was being nice about it and I had to admit that fooling a sales person in a clothing store was about a difficult a task as there could be.

I hung my dress up and slipped on the pants and looked in the mirror. While I was trying to decide I heard a soft knock on the door.

"Can you come out so I can take a look?"

The dressing rooms were in an enclosed area so only women would be there but now that I had been "made" I was hesitant to be seen in just a brassiere. But I really had no choice so I stepped of the little room. A few women were standing around in various stages of dress looking at themselves in the mirrors and totally ignoring me. The saleswoman had me stand in front of a mirror and asked what shoes I'd be wearing. When I told her that I'd being wearing heels about the same height as the boots, she suggested I get the legs let out about an inch but that otherwise the slacks were perfect.

She must have been a good salesperson because I thought about buying only the slacks and walked out with them, two blouses and a scarf as well. Thank God one of my credit cards had arrived with Carol Baker on it. By the time I was done it was well after five and I started to think about dinner with Chuck.

I love Grand Central Terminal. It feels the way a station should. Its high dome with the constellations and the marble walls all speak of the glory the railroads once had. I stood by the central information booth watching people when I heard Chuck calling my name. I smiled as he came over and we hugged. I was a bit surprised that he gave me a quick kiss on the cheek but also relieved that he felt he could.

We gossiped briefly and then Chuck asked if I was up for Indian food because he knew a great place in the west 30's. I agreed and we walked together. Chuck tried to carry the shopping bag but I kept it and we bumped our way through the evening crowds that make up mid-town Manhattan. We reached Sixth Avenue and Chuck showed me Utsav Festival and we went in.

I relate Indian food to small dark restaurants but Utsav had big windows and bright furnishings. The maitre‘d took my coat and shopping bag and then led us to a corner table. Because we were early diners we took advantage of the pre-theatre menu which was an affordable $28 a piece though Chuck insisted we should get wine as well. I realized we would battle over splitting the check later but let it go for the time being.

Chuck and I talked as we waited for the appetizers. Our conversation touched on his school, mutual acquaintances and such. Then Chuck smiled and leaned closer.

"You are looking very good Je... I mean Carol. Take a look around this place. You're one of the best dressed and attractive women here."

I just stared a Chuck for a moment and then let my eyes wander over the other diners. I was dressed well but "attractive", come on. I had enough of a man's eye to know that of the five or six women under forty I could see, only the obese blond in the corner and the odd looking red head wouldn't catch my eye before Carol would.

I turned back to Chuck and drawing my eyebrows together gave him a quizzical look. "What are you talking about?"

At the moment the waiter arrived with the appetizers and there was a minute or two while we arranged plates and took somosas and papadum. When we had settled down Chuck smiled oddly.

"I have a confession to make."

My stomach turned over, Oh God was Chuck going to declare his love for me, or tell me he wants to start cross dressing also.

"When I first saw you as Carol in my apartment I was blown away by how realistic you looked. During the move again I was thrown by the fact that you really look like a woman."

Chuck paused and took a breath while a feeling of sickness rose in my throat.

"Then I started to wonder if you really did look good. I'm sorry but I couldn't help but wonder. So I chose a restaurant where we wouldn't bump into my friends from Columbia. I'm sorry. You see I wasn't sure but I should have trusted you and me. If you went with me to the places I normally hang out in, well you'd attract some of my friends because, I mean, well, you look great."

I took a deep breath. I wasn't sure if I should be complimented or insulted. I looked at Chuck and realized he was blushing.

"Hey Chuck, ease it. I didn't know you wanted to show me off."

At that he really went bright red and I let him off the hook. The rest of the dinner went smoothly. The food was wonderful, the wine nice and we caught up not just on what had happened recently but on a lot of things we should have discussed in earlier days. We split the check over Chuck's protestations and sat and sipped our coffee for a bit.

About 8:00 we stepped back onto the street and I could feel that rain was in the air so we headed back to Grand Central making only a few detours to look at shop windows. Part way through Chuck out his arm around my waist and I stiffened for a moment.

"I'm sorry" he said as he stepped away.

"It's OK Chuck" and I moved against him. Then with his arm around my waist we finished the walk. A couple of times Chuck started to say things and then I could hear the hesitation as he changed what he was saying in the middle. When we reached the station we checked the train times and found I had about twenty minutes to wait so Chuck came to gate with me and we stood side by side.

"Will you come down again soon?"

"Why don't you come up to Tarrytown? I'll cook you a dinner."

"OK, I just thought that, well I could take you to a nice Korean place near the law school."

I indicated I'd like that but that I wanted to start entertaining so we pulled out PDAs (Chuck of course had a Blackberry) and made a date about a week ahead. Then the train was announced. I don't know what moved me to do it but when we said goodbye I gave Chuck a hug and then a quick kiss on the lips and moved down the track turning once to wave.

I sat on the train thinking about the evening. Chuck had acted really odd and I could not figure out whether he was uncomfortable because he was with a transsexual, or maybe because he found me attractive, or possibly because he was gay and wanted to cross dress, or some other possibility that hadn't yet occurred to me. I replayed the evening and tried to figure out why I kissed him at the end. It could just have been mischief on my part.

When the train reached Tarrytown I stood up and pulled my shopping bag and coat from the overhead rack and turning noticed a middle aged man smiling at me as if we knew each other. I looked at him puzzled and he mimed taking a picture. It was the photographer from the mall. I smiled back and he gave a quick wave and grabbing a camera bag turned and walked away.

Later on as I drove home watching my rear view mirror for a car or a van I thought about what Dr. Phillips had said. I was nervous and uncertain so it made sense that I would be looking at everything with a suspicious eye. The fact that the photographer was on my train was a reasonable coincidence and the vans were just being used by local workmen.

I got home and checked my e-mail. Regular mail for me would be left at the office in the Martin's house. Now it was time to put away clothes, take a shower and go to bed. I had enjoyed the day and looked forward to a dinner with Chuck. Maybe I'd invite Claire and even Jean.



Chapter 10: Discrepancies and Night Alarms

On Friday I finished entering the household checking accounts into Quickbooks and also entered Claire's because she wrote so few checks. From there it was a quick job to determine that the books almost balanced, Claire was eighteen dollars off, and the two household books were both out of balance by less than ten.

I had the bit in my teeth however so on Saturday I entered Jean's checkbook into the system and began some analysis. Again I could only conclude she had an extra source of income and that it wasn't any of my business anyway. I finished the books by Saturday lunch time and only had to create some reports and connect Quickbooks to the database and I'd be ready to manage the money, but that could wait until Monday.

I had lunch with Emily who looked at my new pants and determined there was enough cloth to lengthen the legs almost an inch and said she would do it. I offered to pay her but was turned down. Annette joined us for some coffee before heading out with Uncle Peter for a late afternoon wedding. The rest of the weekend was free.

I bundled up and rode my scooter to the post office to check my mail box and then turned the bike north. I had looked at the map and was going to explore the towns of Cold Spring and Garrison. The day was crisp, bright and only a little breezy and my scooter happily settled into the 45 to 55 mile per hour range of the roads. I could feel the vibration between my legs and chuckled at my private joke about owning a $4,500 vibrator.

The ride was nice. Garrison is a little arts community on the river. I sat and watched the water for a while and talked with a couple who had ridden in a large BMW motorcycle. The wife and I talked about the problems facing women who rode. As the sun got lower I was about to mount on my bike when I saw Alan walking towards me.

He waved and I waved back.

"Hi Carol. I didn't know you were here. I've been shopping, early Christmas and a birthday gift for my Mom."

I looked around but didn't see his bike.

"Oh I didn't ride today. I wasn't sure what I'd be buying so I drove up."

Alan waved his hand towards a large Ford sedan parked nearby. We stood and talked for a while and exchanged phone numbers. I agreed to meet him for a ride the next afternoon and then got on the bike to head home. Alan stayed behind saying he wanted to watch the river for a while and I saw him sit down and stare at the water as I pulled out of the parking lot.

When I got back I collected some personal mail from the Martin's office and sat down to look it over. My other credit card had finally arrived and RoadRunner magazine (the best touring motorcycle magazine in my opinion) had come in under the name Carol Baker. As I snacked on leftovers and veggies I read the articles and dreamed about trips on the scooter. I called Jan and left a message and then did the same with my sister. By the time I turned of the lights it was well after ten.

During the middle of the night I was jolted awake by a noise and checking my clock saw it was about 2:15. I pulled on my robe and walked into the living room. The window was slightly open and I heard some people talking in the back. Looking out I saw the occasional flash of light in the woods behind the fence.

I stood in the darkness safe in the knowledge that I was not visible and waited for further developments. After a while I heard a car start and pull away quickly. I waited a few more minutes and then was about to go to the bathroom when I heard another car starting up but this time it was in another direction and I could see the flash of lights as a car drove down the Martin's driveway and onto the road.

Now thoroughly confused I sat down and tried to decide what to do. I could walk over and wake up the Martins. I could call the police, but what about. In then end I went back to bed and lay in the dark trying to figure out what was going on. I decided to not say anything. Maybe Claire or Jean had had company and most likely the car in our driveway had nothing to do with the noise on the Armstrong side of the fence. Still, it bothered me.

I had discovered, to my surprise, that I had to drive to White Plains to find a Unitarian church but on Sunday morning after some stretches, jogging in place and a shower I dressed in a beige skirt, my brown and white sweater and some loafers and feeling good about it drove to the church. I like services and sat and listened to the prayers and the sermon. Then I shook hands with some people, ducked invitations to a couple of evening groups including the singles group and went back home.

I grabbed a quick lunch and changed into a pair of black jeans and a tight white turtle neck. Then grabbing my gloves, vest, jacket and helmet rode my bike to the end of the driveway. In a short while Alan was there with two other riders and we crossed the Tappan Zee Bridge to ride up the Palisades and explore 9W.

It was an exhilarating ride ending with at a diner near West Point. The other two riders assumed that Alan and I were a couple and we sat side by side as we ate. Alan was friendly but the mild flirting that had gone on when we met previously was absent. It wasn't that there was a chill or anything just a bit of reserve, but then when Jeremy was dating I remember feeling awkward when out with a potential girlfriend and my buddies. Alan rode back with me to the Martins and we stopped by the driveway for a few minutes to talk, then I went upstairs.

It was odd looking back at the dinner. Pete and the other rider, whose name I had already forgotten, had taken a good look at my breasts under the turtle neck while trying to pretend to be looking elsewhere, but Alan, who had scoped me out before, looked past me. I tried to imagine what the problem was and then decided not to obsess about it. I tried my sister again and we talked for a while. She was glad to hear I was going to church and then regaled me with a long complaint about baby sitters.

Jan wasn't home but just as I was getting ready to shower Chuck called. He seemed a little put out when I mentioned that I might invite others for dinner but didn't say no. We talked about New York and I described the day's ride. Then I showered and listened to the radio as I went over my own expenses trying to decide what I wanted to pay for a car.

As I thought about the car my mind turned to Jean's BMW sedan. It was a late model and in good condition. She hadn't paid for it from the accounts I could see so it had to come from somewhere else. I opened the local paper and skimmed the used car ads and then went to the internet. When I was done I added a Nikon N80 to the total and decided that Jean had spent somewhere between 26 and 30 thousand dollars in the last two years that did not show up in her accounts. That didn't include her clothes, expensive, and jewelry, very expensive.

I thought about talking to the Martins about this but I already had the feeling that they had decided to turn a blind eye on Jean. She was an irritant and if they could ignore her all the better.

I thought back to the previous night. The car I had heard in our driveway wasn't Claire's little Subaru. Uncle Peter drove an ostentatious Cadillac that made no noise and Annette's Camry had a distinctive whine when she turned the wheel. So it was Jean that had driven away last night.

I felt as if I was being swamped with irrelevant pieces of information. Where Jean got her money and who visited her or where she went was not my business but something bugged me. At Teneris I was prized for my ability to smell out a bad deal or a salesperson padding and account. Something smelled here as well.

On Monday I finished importing the expenses to the database and got on the phone to the Martin's accountant to discuss the various "buckets" to file the expenses under. We got along wonderfully speaking the same language of debits, allowances and exceptions and I looked forward to meeting Mr. Frankel when he came up the next time to go over the books.

Monday afternoon was spent paying bills, separating donation requests and taking apart a contractor's estimate for a new patio and built in barbeque grill. By the time I was done I had about a dozen post-it notes on the estimate, a half dozen red ink comments and a revised cost about $2,500 lower. I looked forward to sitting down with Uncle Peter and the contractor and going over what I felt was an inflated plan. I decided that when we did meet I would dress deliberately feminine, definitely not in slacks, so that the contractor would be lulled into thinking that he was dealing with some secretary and not a financial mind.

Annette had commented about the great view from the partially finished attic so when work was done I climbed the steps and went up to the attic. There was a small cupola with windows facing in four directions and I could see the river and the bridge in one direction and a series of hills in another. I stood there in the stuffy air looking around and then stared down.

I could see where the Martin's driveway met the road and about thirty yards further where the Armstrong's driveway came out. Their driveway ended with a sliding gate. I also could see the road for quite a ways often having to look through the trees. To my left was a large sedan pulled off the road and to the right a utility truck sat next to a telephone pole.

I joined the Martin's for dinner that evening and asked if they minded if I went to the attic at night. I said I wanted to see the Tappan Zee Bridge from that angle with all of the lights off. Other than warning me not to trip on the various boxes scattered around the attic they had no problem. We talked about various things and Uncle Peter gave me the name of a garage he used that often had good used cars. He asked if I needed help buying a car but I explained I had been saving money for a while.

I had been saving money and had three accounts. One was a general account split between a money market and my check book. The second was an account which earned much higher interest and was where I kept any extra funds I had that I did not think I would need quick access to. The third account was special. It sat in an investment fund and every month I put in no less than $150. This was my fund for gender reassignment surgery should I choose to go that path. Health insurance would not cover the procedure so I was saving. Already I had almost $6,000 in it and it was sacred. In my other accounts I had about $11,300 and I thanked my frugal living while I was employed at Teneris. I decided I could afford to spend $9,500 on a car plus whatever I could get for my old Ford.

I thought back 18 months to when I started discussing gender reversal and how shocked I was to find out that the various medications I would start taking, some to shut down my production of testosterone and some to add female hormones, would cost me over a thousand dollars a month. Insurance of course would not pay for it. I immediately set up a tight budget for myself and thanked God that I was working in a field and for a company where the wages were good.

That night about 11:00 I took a small flashlight, my IPod and as quietly as I could I worked my way up the back stairs to the attic. I pulled a box over to the cupola and sat with no lights looking down into the Armstrong property.

Occasionally I touched my watch making the face glow. The view was just as beautiful at night as it had been earlier. I sat and listened to music and kept watch. My patience was rewarded at 12:38 when I saw a car pull up to the Armstrong's gate. I assume the gate was already open because after a few seconds the car drove in and I watched the lights as it drove around ending up in the back near the Martin's property. Then the headlights went out.

Twice I watched as small lights moved from where the car was parked toward the fence. They followed the L shape path I had worked out from my apartment window. After about ten minutes the car lights started up again and I watched as it drove out to the road and turned right. Less than a minute later another set of headlights appeared along the edge of the road and drove off after the car.

"Well up yours Dr. Phillips" I muttered. "I may be wrong about the vans and cars following me, but there is something going on next door."

I slowly worked my way back down to my apartment. I turned on the lights and made myself a cup of tea and taking out a pad wrote up a list of all the things I could think of that seemed to be part of mystery. I started to add Jean's BMW and then decided I was just being spiteful.

When I was done, I had vehicles following me, lights and sounds at night, the big fence and the servants that now seemed more like guards. I thought about it for a bit and then feeling a bit sick added Alan's name to the list. Why not, he seemed to show up a lot and had no real business on these suburban roads.

Then I turned off the lights and lay in bed sleepless. I kept turning things over in my mind. What if Alan was part of a drug ring, or maybe involved in immigrant smuggling. Then I remembered that he told me he worked for the government. I couldn't remember what he said though. Was it the IRS, the treasury department, something involving banking? Maybe Alan was investigating the Armstrongs and suspected me. His lack of flirting at the diner now became a matter of his investigating Carol and finding Jeremy. With my mind getting more and more frazzled I finally rolled over and managed to fall asleep with a last thought that I had to invite Claire and Jean over for this coming Friday.



Chapter 11: Dinner With a Side of Confession.

Jean turned down my invitation to dinner but Claire said she'd love to come and then hesitantly asked if she could bring a friend. I felt that a foursome would be less awkward than a trio so readily agreed. That week the mornings were spent analyzing expenses and balancing accounts and the evenings were preparing for the dinner. In the flurry of activities strange lights and odd vans faded away.

I had a bit of fun when the contractor came over to discuss the patio. I showed up in a light dress that was a bit too summery for the late September afternoon and Uncle Peter gave me quite a look. The contractor smiled, looked at my legs and small bust and then mentally turned his back on me and explained to Uncle Peter why the price was very reasonable. Then I laid out the papers and took him to pieces extracting $2,200 in savings and a bit of grudging respect.

Later as Uncle Peter walked about looking at the area I pulled the contractor aside. I smiled my most winning smile at him and then explained that I knew exactly how contracts and cost overruns worked and that I would make sure he was paid fully and on time but I didn't want to see surprise expenses creeping in.

He looked at me for a moment and then chuckled. "OK, I've been set up. You got me expecting a girl but you're a professional all right. No hard feelings and I'll do the job right. Any time you want to move into the contracting field give me a call." He handed me his card.

I hung a picture from my old place on one wall of my apartment and a framed poster I recently just purchased on another. I bought a nice serving platter and a new vase. Then I sat down with Emily and we planned a simple dinner I could make by myself and would be a bit festive.

On Friday I got back to my apartment about 4:30 with Annette following me offering lots of advice. I finally shooed her out and got to work. The night before I put chunks of lamb in a marinade of crushed cucumbers, yoghurt and red pepper flakes. These would cook on a rack under the broiler. I owned a rice maker so that would take care of itself and I had a bag of string beans, a sweet red pepper and a can of corn. That with salad fixings and bread was the dinner. Cheese and grapes would start the evening and an apple pie from a local orchard would close it.

All that was left was getting dressed and setting the table. This meant I had to face deciding what to wear. The problem was I was trying to please two audiences; Chuck on one hand and Claire and her friend on the other. It didn't help that I knew nothing about Claire's friend and less about what I meant by "pleasing Chuck."

I must have spent a good fifteen minutes walking back and forth in the living room trying to figure out what to wear. It was chilly enough that anything summery was out, my dressy items were too dressy, but I had to look nicer than how I dressed during the day. At last I took a deep breath and flung open the closet doors and forced myself to make a decision.

Out came a dark blue skirt that came a few inches above my knees. From my dresser I pulled a lighter blue knit top with a shawl collar that showed a lot if I wasn't careful when I bent over. Black ballet style slippers and nude pantyhose with some shiny lycra in them and a slip made up the basics. After that I "stole" the silver chain from the slacks I purchased in New York and put a simple silver chain around my neck.

I looked at myself in the mirror as I brushed my hair and turned to the side to get a profile. I don't know what inspired me, but I took off the top and switched to a brassiere that gave me more lift and presence. Then I pulled the top back on again and looking in the mirror gave myself a passing grade.

At that point there wasn't much to do. Claire had made me promise to let her supply the wine and there was beer in the fridge. I looked around the apartment again and checked the bathroom to make sure everything was neat and then turned on the broiler. Then I checked the time and realizing that nobody would arrive for a least half an hour I turned it off again and sat down to check my e-mails.

It was while I was going through my e-mails and tossing the spam that had made it through the filter that my phone rang. I picked it up and heard Alan on the other end.

"Hi Carol. I was wondering if you wanted to go for a ride tonight? A couple of us are heading up to Carlo's. I know it's last minute but who knows."

I apologized and explained I was entertaining and we talked for a bit. Then Alan asked what I was doing on Saturday and I agreed to join him for lunch in town and if the weather held a ride afterwards. We gossiped for a few more minutes and then with some hesitancy he hung up.

I sat there for a bit trying to figure out what felt so strange and then it came to me. Other then Chuck, who knew about my cross dressing, no man had ever asked me out. The earlier lover, the lawyer Dan, well I had made the first move and I was Jeremy not Carol when I did. I started to bubble in happiness. A man had asked me out. A good looking man, who rode a bike and was fun to be with.

I almost screamed with frustration when my phone rang again, because I did not want to break the mood. It was Chuck calling from the train to say that it was running about 15 minutes late. I listened and agreed that he should catch a cab from the station and then I hung up and tried to recapture the giddiness of the moment. I realized that one hand had crept up and was rubbing a breast and laughed at myself.

"Oh well, I never had a chance to be a teenage girl with a crush; why not now?"

I checked the time again and turned on the broiler knowing it would take a while to heat up and then going back into the living room heard a knock on my door. Claire and her friend were on the porch and as I let them in I felt glad I had made the effort to dress up for the evening.

Claire introduced me to Cathy and the three of us looked each other over while we made the standard comments of "nice to meet you" and "thanks for coming over". They both were dressed nicer than casual without being dressed for the evening. Claire was in a pants suit that complimented her mannish looks, but it was Cathy that almost made my jaw drop.

Cathy was a woman in her late forties and probably the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. The hell with that, she was drop dead gorgeous in the way that some people have so that what ever they wear they remain stunning. She would have been beautiful in dirty jeans and a stained t- shirt. On a simple gray dress she was exceptional.

I kept glancing at her as we made small talk and took in all the parts of her. Her hair was dark brown with hints of gray. Her skin was clear and unwrinkled. Her eyes were grayish green. Her smile was to die for. She had to be at least 5 foot 9 inches and in her classy high heels was the tallest person in the room.

Claire handed me the bottle of wine and while Cathy looked at some things in the living room, Claire guided me into the kitchen.

"Stop staring."

"What?"

"I said wake up and stop staring. Cathy does that to everybody. She used to be Vogue model. I could kill for her cheekbones, but you need to relax. She's a real person. Where's your corkscrew."

In the midst of finding the corkscrew, asking if Cathy wanted a beer instead of wine, bringing out the cheese and fruit, Chuck showed up and if my reaction to Cathy had been clear to Clair, Chuck's must have been hilarious.

Some how we made it to the table and the lamb and veggies passed muster. Conversation moved from my apartment, to law school, to modeling (Cathy left because she couldn't stand the clothes any more), Claire's garden and back to my apartment and the flowers. Occasionally I would catch Chuck sneaking glances at Cathy's bosom or her face and I felt a level of irritation grow. Then my mind shouted "Oh my God Carol, don't tell me I'm feeling jealous or possessive?"

Before I knew it we were finishing coffee and Cathy was commenting that she had a bit of a drive. We stood in the apartment and did the round of "thank yous", you must "come agains", and "drive carefullys" and then Chuck and I were alone.

We stood looking at each other and then I could not help myself.

"Well you certainly took a good look at Cathy."

Chuck looked at me with a deer-in-the-headlights stare. "What?"

"Oh come on, you undressed her so many times with your eyes that if she hadn't been a model and used to prancing around nude she would have gotten up and slapped you."

"Oh lord, you're jealous."

"I'm not, I'm… oh shit."

I slumped into my chair. Chuck sat on the couch.

"She really is a stunner."

"I know" I said. "I was drop jawed when she walked in also."

We sat and half started conversations a few times. They went nowhere and finally we were just silent.

Chuck broke the ice with a moment of bravery that I will always wonder at.

"Carol, I'm really uncomfortable here. We are friends, we've known each other for seven years and I think of you as one of my closest friends. Well I think of Jeremy as one of my closest friends. What I'm trying to say is that I am uncomfortable because you are Carol."

Chuck waved his hands in the air signaling me not to interrupt.

"No, I'm not saying this right. I have no problem with you being Carol. I have a problem with Carol, no, oh darn. Wait a moment. OK, I know that underneath what I see is a man, and his name is Jeremy and we were in college together and we played tennis together and we even double dated once. Now there is Carol and I like Carol, in fact I sort of feel attracted to her, I mean to you, but I still know that it's Jeremy."

I just sat quietly fearful of interrupting, and fearful of hearing what Chuck would say.

"I mean if we were to meet in the city I'd ask you to have dinner with me. I'd be attracted to you, and I am. I think. It's so confusing. What are, I mean what am I to do?"

I got up and sat down next to Chuck. In the back of my mind I thought about my earlier reaction to Alan's call, but I pushed it away.

"If you're attracted to me, you could try and kiss me." I turned towards Chuck.

Chuck froze for a second and I thought about the quick kiss I gave him when we parted in New York. Then he leaned close and kissed me on the lips. It wasn't a big kiss but it wasn't just a brush by. I smiled, leaned forward and lightly kissed his lips and then sat back.

"Chuck, I'm Carol. Jeremy is gone. I also am not going to go to bed with you or expect you to try and get me into bed. I just want to stay friends."

Chuck looked at his watch and then pulled a train schedule out of his pocket and looked at that.

"I want to stay friends too. Can you drive me to the station?"

At the station as he got out of the car Chuck leaned over and gave me another quick kiss. "I'll call you. Thanks for the dinner."

Later in the apartment as I put away the last of the dishes I replayed the evening; Chuck and Alan, Alan and Chuck. Or did I mean Chuck or Alan, Alan or Chuck? Either way I was excited, sexually tensed up and very happy. I dressed in my sexiest set of PJs and with one hand under the top caressing a nipple I drifted off to sleep.



Chapter 11. The Tarrytown Blues

In the passing weeks I talked with Chuck many times. I went for a ride and had a lunch and a dinner with Alan. I spent time on the phone with Jan who while sympathetic to my struggles over how to handle my affairs had no advice. Most important of all, with the help of Doctor Phillips, I located a therapist in North Tarrytown who dealt with gender issues.

Since my sophomore year in college I had worked with three therapists and they had all been men. Dr. Granger was a woman and it took a few sessions before I started to feel comfortable with her. It didn't help that she looked like the perfect stereotype of a strict high school librarian.

Therapy with Dr. Granger was quite different from Dr. Phillips and the others. Her questions were more direct and more penetrating. She was nice and supportive but did not allow me to wiggle out of uncomfortable issues. The biggest surprise came when I described my belief that something was going on and that I was occasionally being followed.

Granger asked me a lot of questions and went over the time I had spent in the Martin's attic. She made notes, drew lines on her pad from one set of notes to another and then finally spoke.

"Why haven't you gone to the police?"

"I don't know. I think that I'm feeling well silly."

"Didn't your uncle comment that there had been some robberies in the area? Are you sure that you aren't putting off facing an authority figure as Carol?"

As I said Dr. Granger came straight to the point. This being the case one afternoon when I went into town to run some errands I detoured by way of the police station and asked to see a detective.

After a few minutes an overweight man came out and introduced himself as Sergeant Mannis and we went to his desk and sat down. Forty minutes later feeling humiliated, put down, and belittled I left the police station and went to get a cup of coffee.

At no point did Sergeant Mannis tell me I was imagining things or say flat out "well women living alone have fantasies" but I could tell that was what he was thinking. "I'll check into this Ms. Baker." Right, it looked like the only thing he'd ever check into was a weight loss clinic.

I sipped my coffee and thought about it some more. Alan had told me that he worked for the treasury department. Wasn't the FBI part of that? I'd tell him my story the next time we met. He might not be able to do anything but at least he wouldn't laugh at me. Feeling a little better for the coffee and for the glances from the male patrons of the coffee shop I left and headed back to the Martin's.

I drove around the neighborhood for a bit and sure enough there was a flower van parked near the Armstrongs. Again it was Colonial Heights Florists and I had checked both in the phone book and on the web and there was no florist by that name in Westchester.

I called Alan and we went out to have dinner together. The weather was too chilly now for the scooter so I persuaded my Ford to wake up and take me to a local Chinese place we both liked. Over the food I told Alan about the vans and cars, and odd lights and the reception I had received at the police department. Then I asked "You're with the Treasury Department. Do you know anybody in the FBI? Can you tell someone about this?"

Alan smiled. "In fact I do know someone I can tell about this. My supervisor sometimes hands investigations over to law enforcement and he knows all those people. You though, if I were you I'd stop making the extra little trips to check up on things. I mean if there is something going on you don't want to be caught in the middle of it."

The rest of the dinner was spent discussing bikes and trying to plan a spring time trip with some friends to Cape May. Alan was friendly but I kept waiting for him to make some kind of move to indicate that we were a man and a woman. I wasn't sure what I would do if it went beyond a kiss, but this neither here nor there act of his was beginning to trouble me.

The next weekend I went into the city for the day and Chuck and I played tourist. While looking at the shop windows on Fifth Avenue Chuck reached over and took my hand. We stood there pretending to admire a display, neither of us speaking. I moved closer to Chuck so that our shoulders were pressed against each other.

After a bit we walked east and then south ending up in the thirties. "Chuck my feet are hurting let's sit down and get something to drink."

Chuck led me a few blocks and we came to the Charles Dodgeworth Bar & Grill. It was a quiet place on a Saturday afternoon. Chuck got himself a beer and I ordered some wine. We sat side by side against the wall and looked at the people.

Chuck moved closer to me. "Carol…" and he put his hand on my leg just above the knee.

I said nothing but tensed up.

"Is this OK?"

I nodded yes and smiled at Chuck.

We just sat there sipping our drinks.

"I don't know what to do next" He said.

"What do you mean?"

"Just what I said. I'm really nervous."

I just leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "I won't let you do anything major Chuck. So relax. I like being with you. I like holding hands. You don't feel revolted kissing me, do you?"

"No, just very confused."

"Same here."

We finished our drinks and took a cab to Chuck's apartment. I took off my shoes and dropped my shopping bag on a chair and flopped down on the couch and closed my eyes.

"Whew. I am tired and my feet hurt. Damn shoes."

"Tell me some more about the cars and the lights."

I opened my eyes in surprise. I had told Chuck a bit about my concerns but he hadn't asked too many questions. As we talked it dawned on me that what Chuck was really asking about was my relationship with Alan. Aha, the man was a bit jealous himself.

Chuck seemed to relax as the afternoon worn down and when it was time to join some of his friends for a dinner we stood up and he came over and gave me a hug and then kissed me. I wasn't prepared for a real kiss from Chuck though I certainly had thought about it and for a moment just stood there. Then I kissed him back and we stood in a clench for a minute.

Chuck broke the hug and stepped back. He looked at the ceiling for a moment as if thinking. "Nope, I'm not revolted at all. Let's go to dinner."

First I had to go into the bathroom to fix my lipstick. Actually that was my excuse. I was quivering inside and jumpy, and happy and worried and taking a moment to fuss in front of the mirror helped. What didn't help was the throb in my groin where my penis, trapped in a gaff, was struggling to achieve an erection.

I came out smiling, and arm in arm we walked to a local eatery where we joined a bunch of young professionals and law students for a loud and happy meal.

Later as Chuck left me at the station gate in Grand Central we kissed again. Chuck looked a bit down and I thought it was because the evening was ending.

"Carol, I'm sorry."

"What about?"

"I just don't know. I can't help thinking that what I am doing is wrong. It's probably the nuns from Catholic school shouting at me. Please call me tomorrow… I want to talk with you."

He kissed me on the cheek and walked away.

I sat on the train nearly in tears and when I got back to my apartment just lay on the bed and sobbed. Years ago if this had happened I would have torn off my clothes and thrown them all away. I was too far committed now to do that but I was just miserable.

I showered and pulled on panties and a robe and making some tea sat at the kitchen table. For the first time since I had moved I wished I was back in New Jersey and working for Tenaris again. I wanted to be Jeremy for a bit and not trying to juggle what people thought I was with what I really was.

"No damn it." I said. "I really am Carol. Chuck knows what I have, and if I and Alan ever get serious I'll have to tell him. I just wish the bastard would pull his finger out and make some kind of move."

I sipped my tea and thought about checking my e-mail. Tomorrow was Sunday I would check on letters at the Martin's then. I could listen to the radio. I could sit in my chair and feel miserable. Well screw Doctor Granger and her "know why you are feeling what you are feeling." Screw Chuck too with his "I'm not comfortable", and screw Alan with his pleasant smile and no moves. And while we're at it screw me and my delusions of crimes and snoops and lights in the night.

I just sat there until I could find additional reasons for self-pity. Then I rounded it off by cursing the Tarrytown police and went to bed to dream restless dreams of being lost in Grand Central and woke up to remember I had left my shopping bag at Chuck's place.

That was it for the night. I turned on the lights got the radio going and pulled out some maps of New Jersey and tried to concentrate on planning a trip to Cape May. It didn't help though because I kept thinking to that kiss from Chuck.

It hadn't been a deep kiss with a tongue plunging into me, but it was nice and warm, and he had his arms around me, and Oh Damn, Damn, Damn. Maybe what he needed was for me to make a big first move and push him against the wall and kiss him and push my hands up his shirt and…

I realized I was breathing hard and my penis was as stiff as it had been in a long time. I grabbed some tissues and with Chuck in my thoughts stroked myself to a climax. Then I lay on the bed and looked up at the ceiling. "Hmmm, I wonder what Chuck does have under those pressed Chinos of his."

Some how I managed to drift off to sleep and woke feeling muzzy headed. I wandered over to the Martin's and picked up my copy of the Times and some mail that had come in on Saturday and then sat at my place eating toast, drinking coffee and reading the paper.

As cold as the day was I wanted to go out riding. I decided to skip church and bundled up as best I could and took the scooter on a long jaunt. After almost an hour I was chilled so I grabbed some coffee to go and a pastry and rode down to the river to look at the boats that were still in the slips and the water flowing under the Tappan Zee Bridge.

I sat there still in a depressed state sipping my coffee when I noticed a large sedan pull up to the docks and saw a man get out carrying a large gray canvas bag. Something about the bag triggered a memory and I decided this was one of the men from the Armstrong's. I slipped my small digital camera out of my pocket and holding it at waist height triggered off a half dozen pictures and then sat back to watch.

The man had walked down to the boats and gone aboard a small sailboat. A few minutes later he came back out, still carrying the bag and got in the car and drove away. I waited a few minutes and when nothing more happened I walked until I could get a better view of the boat and shot a couple more pictures. Then I climbed back on the scooter and went home.

At my place I put the kettle on the stove and washed my hands and face in warm water feeling the sting as I thawed out. Then I sat down at the computer and uploaded the pictures from my camera. Bit by bit I enlarged the pictures until I could read the license plate of the car and the name of the boat as well as the numbers that were on the bow.

I sipped my hot chocolate and wondered again if I was just being paranoid. Finally I saved the images and slumped on my couch trying to figure out my life. I spent the rest of Sunday moping around, doing some cleaning up and chores and basically feeling sorry for myself.

It was almost 4:30 when I remembered Chuck asked me to call him. Why did I have to call him? Why wouldn't he call me? I almost decided not to call just to make us both unhappy but I could hear Dr. Granger questioning my actions at our next session and grabbed my phone and pulled up Chuck's number and hit "Call".



Chapter 12: Reconciliation and The Learning Curve

I sat very upright as the phone began to ring. Chuck picked up almost immediately and I had an image of him sitting at his work desk waiting for my call.

"Hello."

"Hi Chuck, it's Carol."

"Oh, I am so glad you called. I've been sitting at my desk most of the day trying to study and waiting for the phone to ring. So far it's been two charities asking for donations and my mother checking to see if I went to church and which one. I mean it's hard to study when you keep looking at the phone, so I've been…"

"Chuck, shut up."

Chuck was quiet for a moment.

"Sorry Carol, I was babbling."

"Yes, and you asked me to call. I was really hurt when we left. If you can't be with me without having some imaginary Catholic school teacher rapping your knuckles we have to really reconsider what we are doing."

Chuck was silent for a bit.

"Chuck?"

"Carol, listen. I said it all wrong. What I was trying to say was that I was sorry I was so restrained all day long. What I was trying to say was that I am fighting with my past and I want to be with you. I am all messed up because I am not gay, but then you're not a man I guess, but.. Well I want to see you more and I will try and loosen up. I…, I…. When can I see you again?"

"Oh Chuck."

I caught my breath. "Oh Chuck. I'm so glad I called. I wish I had called earlier I would have run down to the city today. It's a bit late for that now isn't it?"

"No. Why not catch a train. We'll have dinner and you can stay over and catch an early morning train back. Listen, I mean I'll make up the couch for you, I'm not trying to…"

"Chuck, shut up. Let me look at the schedule. OK, I'll be at your place about 7:15. I'll bring a change of clothes, and you relax. I know you won't assault me or anything."

I hung up and as I started to put my bag together I asked myself if I wanted Chuck to assault me. Then I realized that there was a certain naiveté to Chuck. If there was any hanky panky going on, now or in the future, I'd have to tell him how to do it.

I jumped up and started a mad scramble. First I stripped and did a quick sponge down and changed into some nice underwear. I had no idea if anything was going to happen, or if I really wanted things to progress very far but I was sexually excited. I chose a light blue gaff that had a little lace on the front and a light blue bra with a bit of lift to it. I put on nicer slacks and a blouse and threw my sneakers into a corner and grabbed a pair of flats and some sheer knee high hose. I dropped a change of underwear in my overnight bag, some toiletries, a nice, but not sexy, pair of PJs and a robe. Then I quickly checked the apartment, jumped in the car and headed for the station. I had a train to catch.

I made the 6:12 to New York with about three minutes to spare and sat in my seat trying to catch my breath. It's one of the slower trains, taking about 50 minutes, and I watched the lights on the river as the train headed south. I was too nervous to read and too jumpy to play a game on my PDA so I just had to sit in my own head and think.

One of the things I was thinking about was that it had been so long since I had any sexual encounter beyond a slightly passionate kiss from Chuck that I wasn't sure how to proceed. Oh I wasn't a virgin with either men or woman, but then again I had had very few lovers. In this day of AIDS and herpes you pick and choose carefully and practice safe sex. Chuck I knew had gone to bed with Mary or Maria (I couldn't remember her name) in college and I got hints in some conversations we had that there was one other woman after he graduated.

I giggled a bit. This was going to be like two virgins, one who had read some books, trying to figure out what went where and how. I tried to imagine what might happen this coming evening but drew a blank. Chuck was a friend not a lover. He wasn't gay. When I thought of Chuck I thought of climbing into his Jeep in college and driving around Virginia hitting bars with live music, playing tennis or drilling each other when mid-terms or finals were approaching.

I thought back to college and classes and let my mind wander to an area I usually tried not to think about. In my Junior year I needed another humanities course and chose to take one from the English Department. So I found myself sitting in English 231 Science Fiction. There I was one of twenty three undergraduates listening to a professor and his teaching assistant, a PhD candidate named Al.

For my final paper I chose Robert Heinlein and decided to write about the influence his years at the U.S. Naval Academy and as an officer in the navy had on his later works. Literature was not an area of strength for me (I was a business major) and when I bogged down I went to Al for help.

Al was in his late 20's, tall and thin with a small scholar's beard. We met in the English Department lounge, and then in the coffee shop and finally at his apartment. I had occasionally wondered if I was gay because of my lack of enthusiasm with the college girls and some of my fantasies and Al showed me that I was.