John

Friday afternoon the doorbell rang, which caused my blood to turn to ice. I was fully dressed and made up. No one was expected—I thought I had the whole weekend to be Josie. I went to the door and peeked through the peephole. I recognized Michelle, a very close old friend. I had always had a crush on her, but could never tell her. That would have involved bringing Josie into the picture at some point, and I wasn’t secure enough to do that, afraid of her reaction.

“C’mon John, open up. I can see lights on and I can tell you looked through the peephole.”

I wasn’t anywhere near ready for this, but I resolved not to react to anything negative. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door.

“Won’t you come in?”

Her eyes bugged out like a cartoon character’s, and her mouth was hanging open. Finally her feet got going and brought her inside, where she began laughing hysterically.

“What brings you here, Michelle?” I asked, ignoring the laughter.

“I…. Hahahaha…. No, I just…. Hahahaha…. You…” She bent over, trying to catch her breath.

“ohhhh, my god! Hahahaha.” Was all that came out of her mouth. I was getting a little tired of it.

“If there’s nothing else, then, I’ll show you out.”

“I…. hahahaha…. I forgot what I came over for!”

“Fine. Tell me some other day.” I turned her around and gently pushed her toward the door. Bursts of giggles were still coming out of her, which hurt me deeply.

We reached the door and I kind of shoved her outside and closed the door, whereupon I burst into tears.

I had always thought Michelle was a nice person. I’d certainly never seen any sort of bigoted behavior from her, but then, maybe we had just never run into the type of situation that brought it out. I was extremely disappointed that she seemed to care nothing at all for my feelings. If I had been dressed as a gag, that would have been something else, but I don’t think I was presenting myself as anything but a normal woman. Certainly not as a campy drag queen, worthy of laughter.

True, I wasn’t beautiful, and there were indications of masculinity, but… what was so funny about that?

Still sniffling, I went into the bedroom and undressed, removed my destroyed makeup. All the fun was gone from what I had expected to be an enjoyable, if lonely, weekend.

-o0o-

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that, if Michelle had reacted the way she had, why wouldn’t she go a step further and out me to everyone we knew? The stigma would be attached to me forever, and I wasn’t sure I could live with that. I resolved to move away, and began packing.

The next day the doorbell rang several times, but I never went near the door. I was expecting no one, and didn’t feel up to dealing with whoever was there. My landline rang several times—I had no cellphone—but I didn’t answer that either. Even if by some small chance it was Michelle calling to try to apologize, I didn’t want to hear it. Her gut reaction was what was burned into my memory.

It was a furnished rental unit, so my few possessions were easily packed up. Clothes, stereo, computer, a few books…

Sunday I turned in my keys, paid the balance on the apartment, and left.
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Michelle

When John answered the door, dressed up like a woman, I just lost it. A tranny? This was my longtime friend? I roared my head off to see him in a dress, heels and makeup. It was so funny I even forgot why I came over.

I couldn’t help noticing he was not reacting in any way to my laughter, but I couldn’t stop. Finally he steered me out the door and closed it behind me. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I might have heard him crying, but I was making too much noise to tell. I went home, thinking who I could tell about this hysterical scene, but the more I thought about it, the more the crying noise kept coming to mind.

After I had finally settled down, I started thinking about the whole scene. He was dressed nicely, makeup done perfectly, earrings, nails, all of it. He really went whole hog.

Then I thought back over our friendship, which started in Junior High School. We’d been close, but he’d never even asked me out, which at the time I thought was odd. I didn’t get a gay vibe from him. And he was a good guy, and a good friend. He’d never done anything to be ashamed about, at least not in front of me. And we’d stayed friends all these years, somehow, even through college and the four years since.

-o0o-

The next day I tried calling him to see what was up with the whole dress-up thing, but the calls weren’t answered. I was starting to get a little worried about him, so I drove over to his place again and rang the doorbell a few times, but he didn’t answer.

Sunday I had engagements, but on Monday I drove back again, only to see a For Rent sign on his door. Had he gone away just because I laughed a little?
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John

It felt pretty good to be on the road. I knew where I wanted to go. There was a small town about twenty-some miles away, on the very periphery of the city. It was just a little further to travel to work, where I was employed at a big, faceless corporation; a small cog in a large machine. I didn’t have friends at work. They were just people I worked with.

I found a cheap motel and stayed there until Thursday, when I found an inexpensive apartment to rent, cheaper but nicer than my place in the city.

I was putting everything behind me and starting over.
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Michelle

It was super-surprising to me that John left just because of that little incident—if that’s why, and I have no reason to think it was something else.

During the week I had lunch with Linda, one of my girlfriends, and just had to tell her about this. She was vaguely acquainted with John. When I told her what had happened, and how I had laughed she looked horrified.

“You didn’t really laugh at him!” she said.

“Sure I did. A man in a dress! What’s not funny about that?”

“And you noticed that he didn’t react in any way to your laughter? My god, can you even imagine how much you hurt him?”

“Hurt him? It was funny!”

“Michelle, people have killed themselves over situations just such as that. Do you really want to be the catalyst for a suicide?”

“You’re joking! Why would he kill himself?”

“How about because a person he liked and trusted saw him as a joke? You’ve been friends a long time. Did he dress up like a drag queen or did he try to look like a real woman?”

“Well, he actually looked pretty good, dressed to the nines, with makeup and heels, jewelry.”

“That tells me he is a serious cross-dresser, and not doing it to be ‘funny’ or as a gag. You betrayed his trust, and probably broke his heart. I doubt he’s ever done anything to you to merit that.”

“Well, I did try calling him, and I went back the next day, but he didn’t answer the phone or the door. Two days ago I went back and his apartment was for rent.”

“Wow, Michelle. You really blew it. I thought you were a more sensitive person than that. You sound like a bigot.”

I bristled a little at that. I was not a bigot! I didn’t hit him or anything, or call him names.

“Until you can see how devastating your laughter must have been to him, you’ll never understand. If this is how you treat your longtime friends, I wonder how you’d react to me if I, say, told you I was a lesbian.”

“That’s different. That’s something written into your DNA.”

“Michelle, don’t you get it? A serious crossdresser has a serious feminine side written into his DNA! He doesn’t do it for kicks; he’s expressing his feminine side. We women get to express our masculine side with clothes and some types of jobs, among other things, but a man has very limited opportunities. If he has a strong feminine side and can’t or isn’t allowed to express it, he becomes a very unhappy person.”

I wanted to argue with her, but I could see the logic of her position. John was a very caring man, and very empathetic. But I never would have connected that with the need to wear women’s clothes, at least not without Linda hammering it home to me.

“So you’re saying I made a really big mistake.”

“I’m afraid it looks like a huge mistake, from what you’ve told me.”

“Then I really need to make it up to him somehow,” I said. “But I have no idea where he went.

“Hey, how do you know so much about this stuff?”

“The brother of a college roommate killed himself after he was outed. He was a really nice, cool guy who didn’t deserve being treated that way. I made it my business to try and understand what happened.”

-o0o-

I did try to e-mail John, but that didn’t get a response, so I mailed a letter to his old address, hoping it would be forwarded, but it was “returned to sender, addressee unknown.”

As time went on I felt worse and worse about how I had reacted. I also took the time to read up on transvestism, transgenderism, etc. and grew to realize how badly I might have hurt John. When we were in school I always thought he was going to ask me out, but it never happened, even though I was sure he was interested. In retrospect I realized he was probably afraid of his secret getting out. A person can never tell how someone will react to the news, especially with a touchy issue like this. I was surprised when I read about men and women who had been kicked out or disowned by their family and friends, and persecuted for being any one of the Ls, Gs, Bs or Ts. I had never met anyone like that. No doubt I would have reacted just as stupidly back in school as I had now.

To educate myself a little more I went a few times to the only LGBT-friendly club in town, and got to know some of the regulars. They were all pretty nice people.

None of this helped me find John, of course, but I wanted to be a better person for him, if he would ever show himself again.
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John

I settled in to my new life. The smaller town was kind of pleasant, and more picturesque. I continued to dress as Josie in private, and even though I met some locals, none really became an actual friend. I really put my old life behind me, other than having the same job.

My parents were deceased, and as an only child I was used to being alone, so I wasn’t suffering terrible, punishing loneliness. It would have been nice to have someone to share my life with, yes, but I could make do without. If I wanted to be around people, there were places in the town I could go so as not to feel too isolated.
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---

Six years later Michelle happened to be driving through the business district of the little town John lived in, on her way to visit a friend another hour away. She had changed fields about five years ago and was now a CNA (certified nursing assistant). She had been exposed to a lot more of humanity during the last few years, not least including men dressed as women, or wearing women’s underwear. It didn’t faze her in any way now, and she felt pretty fulfilled in this job. She was also a lot more empathetic to those people.

Two cars ahead of her a pedestrian was hit. She pulled over, parked, and rushed over to see how she could help. Another medical professional was already at the side of the unconscious victim, doing triage. Michelle announced herself as a CNA and helped out. There was a broken leg and two broken ribs, some lacerations. It wasn’t until the ambulance arrived that she took a good look at the person’s face and gasped in surprise when she saw that it was her old friend, John. To her he looked a lot older. It was not a face full of smile lines, and she wondered how lonely or unhappy he was.

She followed the ambulance to the hospital and sat and waited.

Once surgery was completed and he was in a private room she was allowed to go visit. She pulled a chair up to the bedside and held his hand until he woke up.

“What happened?” he croaked out, when he finally regained consciousness.

“You were hit by a car while crossing the street,” she said. “You’re in the hospital.”

Now he turned his head to see who had spoken. It took him several moments to focus on her.

“Michelle? Is that you?”

“Yes, it’s me, and if you’ll allow me, I’ll see you through your recovery. It’s the least I can do for how I hurt you the last time we saw each other.”

He closed his eyes. He didn’t like thinking about that day and all the emotions it brought back to mind.

“I’m sorry, but I just can’t think about it right now. I’m having trouble thinking, period. Is there any water?”

She let go of his hand, which he hadn’t realized she was holding until that moment, took the cup and held the straw to his lips while he took a sip.

“Thank you,” he said, and shifted uncomfortably.

She noticed, and asked, “Are you in pain?”

“Yes, my leg is throbbing, and my side hurts.”

“Let me call the nurse so you can get some pain meds.”

-o0o-

Michelle was there every day until he was released. She had called her distant friend to say she wouldn’t be coming, as well as her workplace, and made arrangements there to be off. She showed John with every word and action that she was sincere in her desire to help him and to atone, and they gradually were able to become friends again.

When he was released from the hospital, she took him home and stayed with him as he healed.

They talked a lot, but never about that day six years ago. By some of the things Michelle mentioned, John could see that she had become more understanding about the whole transgenderism, non-binary spectrum, and it sounded to him as if some of it was direct experience.

Having Michelle in his house began to make John realize how alone he really felt. Without her, how would he have handled his recovery, for instance? It was nice having someone to talk to who actually knew who he was.

-o0o-

The day came when Michelle felt he was well enough to take care of himself. He looked much better, and seemed happier. She felt good about their relationship, though she wished it could grow deeper. But it had to come from him. Though she felt he had forgiven her, she knew that he had to feel comfortable enough to make the first move.

“John, it’s been a real pleasure reconnecting with you. I didn’t think I would ever see you again, but somehow synchronicity arranged for us to meet. I hope you don’t think too poorly of me now.”

“Michelle, I owe you a huge debt for taking care of me, and I have enjoyed having you here. I’m glad you were passing through when you were. I kind of hate for you to leave.”

She stood up and gave him a hug. “You owe me nothing. You have my contact information, and I hope we meet again some time.” That was hard for her to say, but she had to allow him the space to decide if he wanted more.

She drove back to the city.

-o0o-

Each day John missed her. He would have liked to have a closer relationship with her, now that she seemed to have grown up. But it was very hard to think of being Josie in front of her, in spite of what he knew about her now. He realized he’d have to face his fear if he wanted to have a close relationship with anyone, but it was so hard! Even though he knew Michelle was no longer going to laugh at him, a big part of him was afraid of being hurt again. He knew it was unreasonable, but it was still there.

It took him about a month, but he decided to invite Michelle for a nice meal, prepared by Josie. In order to give her time to get used to the idea, so she didn’t walk in on Josie the way she did before, he sent an e-mail saying Josie invited her to dinner. Since they had never discussed his dressing or his fem name, he included his address, so there wouldn’t be any doubt as to who had sent it. He added that he’d understand if she wasn’t interested in spending any time with Josie, so not to be worried about declining.

After all, if she didn’t want to see Josie, then they could never be more than friends anyway.

Michelle was thrilled to get the invite. She was looking forward to meeting Josie properly for the first time. She knew Josie was a part of him and that if they initiated a deeper relationship Josie would have to be a part of that.

-o0o-

The day of the dinner arrived. Michelle got there right on time. Josie met her at the door, looking a little apprehensive, but Michelle came in, put down her purse and stepped forward to give Josie a big hug.

“I’m sorry for the way I acted the last time we met, Josie, but I’ve learned my lesson since then, and I am very happy to meet you. You look great.”

“You look pretty good yourself, Michelle. And of course you’re forgiven. You were a very good friend to John, and he appreciates that more than you know. Please come in and make yourself comfortable.”

That was the last mention of John. As the evening wore on, an interesting thing happened: Josie seemed to relax and a part of her personality Michelle had never seen (in John) emerged. She was really bubbly compared to John, and even funny in a way John never had been. This was something Michelle had heard about, but this was her first time to experience it. She was meeting the whole person, who was more three-dimensional and contented than the John she remembered. She really liked Josie.

John, although he had been dressing as Josie for years, had never interacted with anyone before while dressed, and he was amazed at how Josie was acting. She was bolder, and seemed a lot more fun than John; she even laughed and gestured differently. He really liked this! It was so different than simply dressing up.

Michelle helped Josie clean up after the meal, which she pronounced excellent, and then the two sat next to each other on the sofa and talked a while. There was a lot of eye contact and some unspoken messages, and it suddenly hit Michelle that Josie was not going to be the pursuer. Josie’s big move had been to invite her to dinner. Could she, Michelle, be the dominant partner?

She started to send signals that she was going for a kiss. Josie looked down demurely. Michelle reached over and put her hands on Josie’s face, drew her close and gave her a gentle kiss.

Josie’s heart fluttered wildly. This was actually her first kiss, and she was overwhelmed. Years of feeling alone coalesced into one giant, racking sob, and she burst into tears. She put her arms around Michelle and cried onto her shoulder. Michelle comforted her and pulled her closer.

“It’s okay, honey, you don’t have to be alone anymore, if you don’t want to be.” Michelle said.

That brought on a fresh bout of sobs.

When the tears had subsided, Josie wiped her face with some tissues, and said, “That was my first kiss. Ever. You can’t guess how much it meant to me.”

“Oh, I think I can!” Michelle giggled. “You must feel a lot better now!”

“You know, I really do. I feel like I’ve always been alone, and that’s normal for me, but I guess I really need to have more human contact, especially with you. Could we please try that again?”

This time the kiss was more passionate and lasted much longer. Michelle showed by example what a real kiss consisted of, and Josie was a willing pupil.

“Michelle, would you stay the night?” Josie asked, after the make-out session was over. “I know you’d have to get up super-early, but I’m not ready to say goodbye to you.”

“That was very sweet, Josie, and as it happens, I don’t have to work tomorrow, so yes, I’d be happy to stay.”

-o0o-

Epilog

Michelle stayed over, they slept together and Josie learned a few more things about how humans interact.

Michelle spent the next day with Josie and John. She and John walked around the town, and she really liked it. He introduced her to his favorite spots.

Not long after, Michelle found a job at a local clinic, and moved in with John. She helped Josie with her confidence and suggested ways to further hide any male traits. She coaxed Josie into actually going outside, and they’d take trips to nearby towns.

They got married six months after that first dinner and moved to a little house on the outskirts of the town. John found a job where he could work from home, and was now usually Josie all day, every day. The nearest neighbors were convinced that two women shared the house…

…And that was perfectly true.

The End.