---

 
 
The woman adjusted the camera and set the timer once again. She walked over to the sofa and sat down. At one time, her eyes would be distracted by the door, which even when locked, still threatened her secret. The door no longer threatened as there were no longer any secrets, and no one to enter. She smoothed her dress and put her legs together slightly at an angle. She hadn't worn a wig in months, her own auburn hair had grown to a nice length, and she had actually had it permed for the first time. She wore little makeup; her soft features needed little adornment. Her eyes, while attractive, continued their habit of reflecting her sadness, despite the smile that attempted to emerge. No photo would be able to erase the months of heartache and loneliness, and she turned away from the camera and wept as the timer went off.

 

Betty Aberlin (yes, like the nice lady in Mr. Roger's neighborhood) sat at her desk drinking a cup of herbal tea when her colleague knocked on the door.

"Hey, babe, we're going out to Applebee’s since the kids have the rest of the day off." Gina Kelly stood in Betty's
doorway. "No time for tuna salad and yogurt, girlfriend."

"That sounds great. Can I ride with you; I need to talk with someone."

"Sure, sweetie, we can catch up on news. I heard Rickie made honor roll at school (Rickie being a former student at Central whose life had been transformed by the acceptance and encouragement that Gina and Betty had provided two years ago (See Lascia Ch’Io Pianga.)"

"That's not the whole story. He and Alice....." Betty started to beam, her broadening grin evoking the following from Gina"

"He...and....Alice....? Absolutely Friggin' Fantastic!" Normally not profane, you may choose to excuse Gina's occasional foray into faux swearing, since it was, as she put it, absolutely friggin’ fantastic. Rickie had nearly lost his life when he was in his junior year of high school, and she and Betty both had followed his and Alice's progress with great joy. Their engagement, while considered a foregone conclusion in Gina's mind, still remained news and good news at that.

"They're planning for the wedding now, but they've decided to wait until they're finished with school. It's a long engagement, but they're keeping everything in perspective."

 

Gina took the longer way to the restaurant so she and Betty would have some time to talk. Betty and she "chit-chatted for most of the ride, and Gina suspected that Betty had something much more important than peach cobbler to talk about.

She pulled into her bank driveway to go to the ATM and stopped the car.

"Okay...What did you really want to talk about?"

Betty's eyes started to tear up. No, she wasn't going to cry...at least not just yet, but she was feeling vulnerable, and Gina had a way of getting people to open up. She had asked for the ride, hoping that it would be long enough to muster enough courage to talk. She wasn't so sure now, but Gina still had her way.

"I think soup and sandwiches at my house probably would be better at this point. I'll call Carla on her cell when we get home."

 

There's really nothing really cathartic about chicken salad and tomato soup, but the meal, such as it was, helped Betty open up.

"I thought I'd be over it by now," she said, trying not to cry. "It's just that I had my life planned...you know, and when Don told me...." She was crying now, but still able to talk. "Three years and then nothing. He found someone who makes him laugh. Can you believe that?" Gina held her friend's hand as she sat and cried. Gina had never really liked Don. He was charming enough...perhaps too charming, and he was condescending toward Betty. It's amazing how so many nice attractive people feel so bad about themselves; some to the point of accepting little or no love in exchange for some sort of security. Betty was one of the sweetest girls you'd ever meet, and she was as pretty as they come, as some might say. She stood about 5'10 and had lovely dark blue eyes, which apparently most men besides Don would have found hard to resist. She was entirely attractive; she just didn't know it. Betty had a reason for her insecurity, but was never able to share her story. You may recall that some caregivers can give excellent counsel and encouragement while unable to receive the same. Betty was no exception to that.

Gina resisted the urge to say something. It had been nearly two years since the breakup, and she found herself as mad at Don as Betty was disappointed. She patted her friend's hand and allowed her to cry; it was really the thing Betty needed to do at that point.

 

"I left the boxes at your mother's house. Listen, Carrie...." His connection ended as his ex-wife hung up on him. The divorce was finalized for nearly a year, but he hadn't had much contact. Some former spouses remain "friends" after the divorce; some because the relationship has changed only enough to end the marriage; others for the sake of the children. Andy still loved Carrie in his own way, but she had already moved on. No children and no friendship equal no relationship, Period! She had been seeing someone throughout the separation, but he really couldn't blame her. Their marriage was really over years before that, and it hung on life-support until she mercifully ended it.

Her wedding was in two weeks and he was not invited. Part of him was glad that she had found someone that actually pleased her. She wasn't demanding at all, and he had tried to fulfill what little expectations she had, but had failed miserably. Counseling had helped him identify his role in the demise of his marriage, and while it takes two people to make or break a marriage, he accepted his responsibility. Guilt and shame, however still plagued him, and he wondered if he could ever find happiness, as broken as he was.

 

Betty picked up her phone and punched in the number she had found in the yellow pages.

"Hi, is this Ardmore Veterinary Hospital? Oh, great. My regular vet is out of town. I'm sorry to bother you, but my cat is still bringing in fleas. Do you have anything effective? I got some stuff from Shop-Rite, but it doesn't seem to do the trick. You have? Can I bring her in today? Oh, great. I'm at work, so I'll pick her up and be there by four.

Thanks." Betty's cat would find that the vet's remedy was entirely effective. Betty, on the other hand, would be completely surprised that her own problems would receive attention, however unplanned.

 

"Aberlin? Like in Mr. Roger's?" The man smiled, trying not to laugh. Noting his attempt to stifle a grin, Betty said,
"Oh, go ahead. She's actually my second cousin or something; my mother was never really sure which. And you'll get a kick out of this," Betty said, pointing to the cat carrier. "Meet Henrietta Pussycat."

Andy smiled and leaned over to look into the carrier.

"Pleased to meet you," he said as he stood back up and faced Betty. He pointed to the large tomcat asleep on the counter behind him" "Daniel Tiger," he said as he pointed to the cat. This evoked a giggle from Betty, who tired ever so hard not to laugh out loud. She had a nice laugh, but she tended to get loud quickly and while most people though it cute, she found it embarrassing.

"Let's just see how Henrietta's doing." Andy said as he opened the carrier and pick up the cat inside.

"Not too bad, but still pretty uncomfortable, huh sweetie? That's right, we'll just give you a nice bath and get something to help you, okay?" Betty would recall later that his tone not only was soothing to her cat, but she found herself relaxed by his disarming charm, even if it was directed to his patient.

 

"A vet, huh." Gina asked as she reached for her yogurt. "So tell me, were Lady Elaine and Dr. Bill Platypus there as well?" She offered Betty a container of yogurt and a tea.

"Funny...." she smiled, trying hard not to think of the vet.

"So what's he look like." Gina was not so much interested in that as much as wanting to know how interested Betty was.

"It's funny. He's...." Betty tried not to be embarrassed, since she was surprised at her own attraction for a man
she had just met. "He's nothing at all like Don."

"Well, we've established that he's not a condescending selfish ass, but I'm sure there's more to him than that."
Betty at one time would have resented Gina's remark, in as much as it not only described Don, but described her poor choice as well. After two years of counseling, she had come to a place where she accepted her own part in enabling Don, but also was beginning to deal positively with other issues regarding the relationship.

"He reminds me a little of...sort of an Italian version of Elijah Wood, only my height." It was a fair, if not completely accurate description. Andy had brown eyes and was really about an inch shorter, which still only made him about 5'9'. "I would have thought he'd be a Phillies fan, but he's a third cousin or something to Joe DiMaggio, and is a Yankee fan. Got pictures on the wall and everything." Gina rolled her eyes.

 

She woke up at three forty seven AM exactly, according to the clock readout. The yelling echoed in her head as if it was still occurring, even though the voices ceased years ago. She sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She noticed she had fallen asleep without changing her clothes, and her dress was soaked with sweat. She got up and walked to the bathroom to shower. As she passed the closet door, she noticed her image in the mirror on the door.

Yes, mirrors seem to hold some enchanted power in the greater West Chester Philadelphia area, but only as much power as the people who look give to them. She looked back at the bed, and the queen-size width only made her loneliness more pronounced. She grew angry with herself, feeling with only a little accuracy that it was her fault she was alone. She turned back to the mirror and stared at her image for a moment. She resisted the urge to cry and walked into the bathroom and shut the door.

 

"I wanted to thank you for helping with Henrietta last week. She's doing fine, and no more fleas."

Andy looked at the phone, which was on speaker. His hands were occupied with the Airedale on the examination table
"Happy to oblige." He would have loved to continued with "Are you doing anything Friday?" but instead said,

"Let me know if there's anything else you need." Betty, on the other hand, was not at all shy and said,

"Would you like to go out for coffee sometime?" People sometimes do go out for coffee, but Betty would have loved to have said, "Are you dating?"

Andy was taken aback for a moment and he dropped the bottle of pills in his hand onto the table. His face reddened as Mrs. Giordano stared at the phone and grinned in approval. Angelo, her Airedale, wagged his tail and licked Andy's face as he reached over for the pills.

"Uh....That sounds nice." He stammered and the response was,

"Call me...you've got my number," followed by the dial tone.

Daniel Tiger looked at Andy and got up, turned around three times and went back to sleep in the same spot.

Mrs. Giordano just smiled and nodded once again in approval.

 

She awoke once again, this time at four twenty-seven. Same voices, same yelling, same shame. Her father yelled at her mother on a daily basis, evoking streams of tears quickly followed by her mother's near-drunken response after Daddy would storm out of the house. She would sit behind her mother and comb her hair as they watched TV.

"You’re a big help to Mommy, sweetheart," her mother would say between sips of beer. Daddy would come home after everyone had gone to bed and the yelling would start up again. She would lie awake at night thinking of how much she hated her father.

"I'll never be like you, she would say to herself." Some people believe you can make a rash vow, and what you choose to hate, you become. That may be true to some extent. Unforgiveness can act sometimes as mortar for the walls we build. But the girl really had little choice. Two alcoholic parents and the misunderstanding of having to choose whom to emulate. She ended up being just like both of them, to some extent, and her bitterness followed her into adulthood. She dressed in nice skirts and pretty dresses but she treated her only love just like Daddy treated Mommy. Her failure visited her nightly and accused her. Her counselor helped her see this and she was able once and a while to set those accusations aside. She had long ago forgiven her parents and but was only just now beginning to forgive herself.

 

"He's divorced. He's in therapy and he actually has taken responsibility."

"UH OH," Gina said with a teasing grin, "Damaged goods." Actually, Gina and Betty had come to the conclusion that we all are, to some extent, damaged goods. Some of our wounds may be self-inflicted, but we all find ourselves needing acceptance and forgiveness as well as needing to be accepting and forgiving.

"I know...but." And it really was just a small but. Betty knew exactly what she was getting into, and between her own determination to take it slow and Gina's perfect willingness to remind her, she was approaching her attraction to Andy with appropriate caution. It didn't hurt that Gina and Ben were praying for her, as well.

"I have no intention of rescuing him like a hurt puppy," Betty said, failing to see the irony of her statement."I guess we'll just see where this leads. I am attracted to him; I'm not going to lie."

Gina responded with a grin, "Not to me, at least."

"We're going to dinner Saturday. Well, actually pizza at Giorgio's." Gina looked at her and smiled.

"I trust you, sweetie." Betty needed to hear Gina say that. She wanted to explore this new thing, but she also needed to know she had her friend's support. "Just keep me posted, okay?"

 

She looked at the monitor and breathed a deep sight. The camera had captured some nice poses; the website had about seventeen portraits or body shots, along with some scenery, and while they all looked pretty, each one showed a very attractive but sad woman. Someone actually commented that her favorite photo made her look like she was about to cry.

She had no friends to speak of, although some of the messages she received were supportive and even kind. She was torn in that she felt she was unable to provide anyone with the person they expected and she was dissatisfied with the person she was. And now she had met someone she thought might be the one, but her failure with her first love made her blind to the possibility that another could love her. She didn't even love herself, despite what her counselor had encouraged her about. Her self-image was pretty on the outside, but she hated what she had become. She was really nothing like what she believed herself to be, since she had long ago set aside her own selfish behavior.

But the guilt and shame continued to dog her like the hound of hell, and she fell asleep at night filled with fear and doubt, weeping without tears. A door was about to open, and it would flood her heart with the light of acceptance.

 

Betty sat across from Andy at the restaurant, sipping some wine. Andy stared intently at her, interested in just about everything she had to say. After talking about their respective jobs, Betty unexpectedly began talking about more personal stuff; actually owing more to Andy’s expression than the glass of wine.

"I'm one of three kids; well five actually. My sister is married and lives in Detroit with her family. My baby brother is living in Texas with his girlfriend. They're engaged. Next March."

"One of five? That's only three, counting yourself." Andy realized almost immediately after he asked the question that her answer would likely be something like what she then explained.

"I was two and my brother Tim was four. Drunk driver hit our car. Timmy was on the side." Her eyes began to mist up as she tried without any success to avoid the memory. I’ve never shared this before. My younger brother Jackie....he commit suicide when he was sixteen." Her memories thankfully didn't include the details.

Andy reached over without thinking and put his hand on Betty's. "Oh, God, no. That is so sad." Andy had no intention of asking for any detail, but Betty continued. "My uncle had been.....Jackie and me....He hated himself so much...."

Betty felt so naked, sitting in the restaurant. She had not wanted to say anything important this soon, and she didn't know Andy well enough, either way. Andy patted her hand and she saw he was crying softly. Sometimes the innocent become cynical and mean when they are hurt and disillusioned, but the opposite sometimes is true.

Forgiveness and understanding may sometimes make the cynical sensitive and the bitter may become caring. Andy's work with his counselor had not transformed his view of himself, but the years of work had helped him at least care more about others.

"You don't have to say anything else. Please...it's okay." He wanted to hear everything, but he could see just how much Betty was “in the moment,” as if it were all taking place all over again. It's absolutely a great idea to avoid saying that you understand when you don't. Andy didn't understand what Betty had gone through, but he at least understood that it still hurt her.

"Jackie had been dressing for about two years. My sister Marta and I were the only ones who knew about it, and it was a secret we kept. I sometimes think that if we had said something to someone...but it wasn't him dressing." Andy was so focused on Betty’s pain that he missed this key part of her story, key to him at least.

"It was what Uncle Jack did to him and me that he never recovered from." Andy saw that she was struggling only with some success to hold back the flood. He stood and walked to the front counter. He handed the girl some cash, saying,
"My friend is not feeling well. This should cover it. Please keep the change." He walked over to Betty and picking up her purse, helped her up and out of the restaurant. The drive home served to give her some time to collect herself.

 

Andy listened intently as Betty apologized, unnecessarily, I should add. No one can remember anything as painful as she did without getting “emotional,” and Andy was at least glad he was there for her.

"I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to burden you with all this. I haven't talked about it for some time, and when I have in the past, I never have behaved that way." Andy thought that she was too hard on herself, which she was.

Recounting to an acquaintance, if not a stranger, that your brother killed himself is bound to evoke strong emotions.

He actually felt privileged that she trusted him enough to tell him. His own faith had only recently returned, and he felt ill-equipped but nevertheless compelled to silently pray for the woman in the car beside him.

Familiar streets and buildings past by unnoticed as he drove her home.

He walked her to her front door. He grabbed both of her hands and said,"

"I won't offer to come in, but please call me if you need to talk." He turned to go, but she held his hands.

"Thank you. I don't know why I did that, but in a way, I'm glad I did." Andy looked at her, confused until she added,

"Would you call me as soon as you get home?"

"Sure, Betty, I'd be glad to. Well, I'll just see myself off, and I'll call you." He turned go, but she still hadn't let go of his hands. She reached over and kissed him on the cheek and went into the house.

 

"Mushrooms, Onions, extra cheese AND crying?" Gina felt okay about the teasing only after Betty mentioned that the customers at the restaurant thought they had mistakenly stumbled into a dinner theater.

"I don't know why, but I wanted to kiss him again, and not on the cheek."

"Sweetie, you were vulnerable and he was...well, he was attentive."

"Oh, I know, but you had to see his eyes." Gina imagined Puss in Boots from the Shrek movies when he does the "Sad Kitty" look. She looked sideways at Betty and pursed her lips as if to say, "Oh, sure."

"No, I mean it. He actually was crying, and I don't think it was for himself." Gina was about to say "Oh sure," aloud, when something prompted her to think of her own husband. "I'm sorry, honey. Go on."

"Jackie meant the world to me and Marta, and I swear part of me died when he died. Andy seemed to understand, without saying anything, you know?" She paused. I'm not going to base a relationship on last night, but I think he's....safe." She said that almost as a question, which led Gina to say,

"Then, apart from crying and embarrassment, I guess it's safe to assume you might go out on another date with him?"

Sometimes it takes a lot of talking and listening for something to occur in our hearts or minds, but every once and a while, like the old hymn goes, sometimes a light surprises...

 

The woman looked at herself in the mirror. She didn't appear any different than she had every other time she took her photo. Tonight would prove to be different. She took several poses of herself in a nice wine colored dress. Her auburn hair was done nicely and she wore a pretty cameo pendant she had found in her mother's things. The poses were unremarkable in that she had several of them already with this dress. When she looked at them on her computer, she noticed one in particular that changed everything. Going to her site, she took down nearly all the photos she had posted. She left a few pictures of her favorite park and a nice picture of a very large tom cat. She posted only a single pose from that night. No new clothes or jewelry; nothing remarkable about her accessories or the background; just one feature that had been missing from all the other pictures. In this one, she was wearing the prettiest smile you would ever want to see.

 

And I will Too!

"He wrote her a letter apologizing for his behavior." Betty looked at Gina as if seeking approval. Betty was a big girl, and Gina was trying very hard not to interfere. To be truthful, Gina found it harder to play devil's advocate regarding Betty's relationship with Andy.

Andy wasn't just doing all the right things; he was living them. His marriage disintegrated in part due to his angry outbursts, which intensified to the point where his ex-wife couldn't take it any longer, and their marriage was over. He could have responded poorly and tried to justify his behavior. His ex-wife's sister confronted him. Never the one to hold back, she told him how horribly he had treated her sister; that it was inevitable that she couldn’t stay in that kind of relationship. It was perhaps how she talked to him that ultimately got his attention. She actually treated him with respect, and said that she still loved him like a brother even as she condemned his behavior. That night he had gone home and wept so bitterly and hard that his neighbor called the police, wondering what was wrong. He vowed to get help, and the next day he stayed home and called around. His own pastor recommended a practice in West Chester, and he went every week for a whole year until the counselor cut it back to once a month.

Oh, to say he was perfect would have been a lie. Each time a sensitive subject would come up, out would come some of the arguments and justification, just like most of us might do. But on the whole, he "took his medicine," and tried to reach out to his ex-wife. He was hoping for a bona fide reconciliation, but was able to accept, albeit with a lot of sadness, her decision not to return. She forgave him, after a fashion, and moved on. He moved on as well, but he never really gave up hope until she announced her engagement.

"We're getting together tomorrow to talk. Chinese take-out for dinner and coffee."

"Well, just so long as there's coffee," Gina teased.

 

Her image no longer spoke, unlike some. Things had changed, although conversations with her mirror friend suited her at first. She looked at her double, satisfied that she was presentable. She wasn't going to dinner tomorrow, but she wanted to rehearse for the time she would. Her auburn hair had reached shoulder length and was pulled back into a soft pony tail. She wore only lip gloss, but it set off her newly rediscovered smile, which hadn't made an appearance in nearly six years. She was wearing a denim skirt and a dark green top. Her wardrobe had changed over the past year, and while she still wore nice things, slacks or jeans were more likely than skirts or dresses, except on occasion. Her tops tended toward sleeveless and pastel, and she wore sandals a lot now that summer was here. She took the odd photo now and then, and still maintained a site for her pictures, but she was more interested in how she was doing inside. A sister's page included some very pretty pictures enhanced by the young lady’s poetry, which encouraged the woman to face the questions that she had concerning what she wanted out of life. She hoped that the person she had made friends with recently would want the same things. Perhaps you may have felt like she did?

 

Andy sat on the couch, petting Henrietta while Betty brewed a pot of green tea, courtesy of Mandarin Dragon. She came over and placed the pot and two cups on the kitchen table and motioned for Andy to rejoin her.

"I wanted to talk somewhere where I felt….less vulnerable, and if things got serious, at least I wouldn’t have a restaurant full of diners staring at me." Andy had not thought about Betty in a romantic way…at least he thought he hadn’t, but he found himself thinking,

"I wouldn’t mind staring at you." He wanted to keep things in perspective. Apart from the abbreviated dinner the other night, he had not gone out with a woman since he had first separated, and that practice continued straight through the divorce and after. Most of his reluctance came from his insecurity and lingering guilt, and he did not want to inflict his behavior on anyone else…he’d hurt enough people already, and his successes with his self improvement hadn’t been put to a real test with a real person. After working with the counselor, and with the help of his doctor, he was able to maintain himself despite the stress of the divorce. And today, even with a very attractive woman in front of him, his motive for being here was genuinely altruistic. Vets and counselors both make great friends, but can, at times, lapse into a rescue mode when in a relationship. For Betty and Andy both, it was okay, since that’s what the Director of our drama had intended.

"It stopped when Uncle Jack died." She blinked out a tear and continued. "It was ironic that Jackie was named after the one who abused us. I learned to forgive him eventually, but I was glad the day he died. It lasted for two years for me and another year past that for Jackie. To this day I feel stupid saying this, but I actually felt jealous when he stopped paying attention to me and focused on my brother."

Betty put her hand to her face, more out of grief than embarrassment. She had gotten over the trauma of the abuse years ago, but still struggled with the after-effects of shame and guilt, despite the help she had received. Many of us have those lingering doubts and self-recrimination that friends, family and counselors often help us deal with.

"Jackie had just broken up with his girlfriend. She actually didn’t know he was a cross dresser.

Betty had said this about her brother when she and Andy last talked, but he hadn’t heard her.

" She was moving to Oregon with her mother and step-father, and still wanted to ‘keep in touch.’" She looked away, wishing that Terri had never moved away, but really, nothing anyone could have done would have changed things….Jackie had left no clue, no warning signs.

"Mommy found him in the bathroom….He was already gone." She started to cry and as much as he wanted to hug her, Andy sat at the table, but reached across and held her hand. Andy had not planned it, but something prompted him to say,
"I was eleven, and it was my mother." He had tears in his eyes, but they weren’t for him. He was still focused on Betty’s pain, and he only said it as a point of commonality. "Daddy spent most nights out at the bar, so she and I spent our time watching TV. She was usually as drunk as he was, but he preferred the Phillies and his buddies at the tavern and his bourbon and she preferred Dynasty and her beer and her little helper. One of her friends was fairly hard-of-hearing, and I answered the phone using my name, Andy. She said, ‘that’s lovely Andrea, won’t you please ask your mother to come to the phone?’ She told Mom the next day when she met me, and they both had a good laugh. From then on, it was, ‘Andrea, please get me my brush,’ or "Andrea, sweetheart, would you please get Mommy another beer?’ or ‘Andrea, come give your mother a kiss.’" At one time, Andy would have expressed his hurt by pounding on the table. Today, his calm demeanor was not forced; he, too, had forgiven his abuser years ago, and was at a place where most of the fallout had dissipated. Betty looked at him in wonder.

"All my anger toward my mom and dad was pushed down, like a beach ball in a swimming pool. I could only keep it down for so long, and then it burst through the surface, and my ex-wife bore the brunt of all those years. Carrie put up with it as long as she could, but it really wasn’t fair to have to deal with my behavior. Oh, she had her problems, too, but even so, I never got any help until after she left, and then it was really too late." Andy’s tears were for regret for what should have been. "She remarried last week to a really great guy from Pittsburgh. I really pray God blesses her."

Betty had not stopped crying completely, but turned her attention to Andy as she listened to him continue.

Andy remembered what Betty had just said about her brother, and felt safe to follow with,

"My dressing started when I was twelve." Betty’s eyes widened. "I found Mom’s nightgown from the night before. I can’t even to this day explain why I chose that one, since the memories were so disgusting. But I put it on, and I felt a connection with her. It was me and her against Daddy, I guess. She found me in her room brushing my hair with the antique brush she had me use for her nightly grooming in front of the TV. ‘There’s my little Andrea, such a sweet girl,’ she said. It was actually one of the few times I can remember that she wasn’t drunk." Most times, Andy would have been able to speak about what happened next without feeling the shame and guilt of the moment, but this was a new friend and not a counselor who sat in front of him. "After she…, my counselor says the nice things might have gotten mixed up with the disgusting. But like I said, I still don’t know." By now, Andy’s affect had changed, and he seemed to be detached from what he was saying. But he looked at Betty, almost pleading for forgiveness for an offense he had never given. His eyes were filled with tears, and he bit his tongue.

"Andy…Andy. It’s okay." Betty said as she put her hand on his. He looked at her and closed his eyes. "It wasn’t your fault. You did nothing wrong." Andy opened his eyes again and looked at her, as if to argue.

"I did nothing wrong. Jackie did nothing wrong. You did nothing wrong." She wanted so much to hug him, but she continued to hold his hand. And Betty was right. No one escapes pain or disappointment. Not everyone is sexually abused, of course, but we all endure loss and grief and disappointment. Every one of us gets something we shouldn’t have to have at some time in our lives. Every one of us doesn’t get what we need at some time in our lives. But what is different for each one of us is how we deal with the pain and loss and grief. It took Andy a failed marriage and his devastating treatment and loss of his first love to understand and act on that. Betty had not treated anyone she knew like that, but her own brief history of drugs and sex resulted in an abortion which she would regret for the rest of her life. Her decision to change transformed her into a caring compassionate woman who helped children cope with their own pain, but would never change her inability to bear another child. She knew her own choices paralleled Andy’s even if they weren’t entirely the same. But she also knew one thing for sure, something that Andy already knew, but had forgotten for only a short while until she reminded him; they both were forgiven.

 

Betty sat across from Gina at her desk as they ate lunch.

"What? No coffee?" Gina teased. Betty smiled as if she hadn’t been interrupted. Betty had only shared that she and Andy had talked about their past and found they had a lot in common. They were planning on going on an honest-to-goodness-no-crying-in-front-of-the-customers date on Saturday. Pizza, but at his house this time. She wanted to get to know him more, and felt the less chance of running into someone either of them knew, the better. Even though this would only really be their third "date," she had made another request that made sense to her and he had agreed.

"Just one suggestion, okay?" Gina sounded very serious until she added,

"Tea equals crying and feelings and crying. Coffee this time. Or Diet Coke at least. Promise me."

"I promise, Betty said

 

The woman sat in her living room, reading the new "Bones" novel by Kathy Reichs. Her long auburn hair was pulled back by two Jade burettes, and she was wearing new pearl studs, which she had treated herself to for her thirtieth birthday.

Her legs were curled up under her and covered by her navy denim skirt. It was a little cool for July, and she had forgotten to turn the air conditioner off that morning, so her sleeveless cotton shirt was covered by a nice wool shawl that she had found at the consignment shop next to her work. She had a cup of mint tea sitting on the table next to her, and a large tabby tomcat sat on the couch next to her, sleeping peacefully. It had been a good day. Her fifth date, and she had a wonderful time listening as her companion talked about her own day helping a struggling teen get an interview with a college counselor about their programs for ADHD students. And she talked to her friend about the great day she had. Two kittens saved out of a litter of six, and one new patient to the practice, a frisky bull terrier, who had to be bathed after getting too close to a skunk. They talked about their growing friendship and what might happen; just two girls sharing stories and hopes and dreams over pizza and diet coke. And she was no longer nervous about her appearance, so she spent less time looking in the mirror. If she had, however, she would have noted, as you would too, that she had the prettiest smile you would ever want to see.

 

Even When You’re Feeling Blue (Fred M Rogers)

It had been over a week since she had spoken to her friend. Things sometimes get hectic and inattention is mistaken for rejection. Perhaps you might have had that happen. I know I have.

She looked in the mirror, but her newly rediscovered smile was lost and nowhere to be found. She seemed sad, but she couldn't identify what was bothering her. She had spent time with her friend, and she thought things were going well.

Maybe she was mistaken. Like so many of her sisters, she was having not only second thoughts, but third, fourth and fifth thoughts as well. She started by taking the pearl studs from her ear lobes. They were placed on the dresser.

Perhaps they could be returned; she still had the receipt. She took off her clothes and tossed them unceremoniously on the bed. She went into the bathroom and climbed into the shower.

 

"Hi, I’m Gina Kelly. I'm here to pick up Rocco." Gina said, offering her hand to the man standing behind the counter.

She looked at him and "sized him up." He stood about 5'9" and had dark brown eyes. He did look somewhat like an Italian Elijah Wood, but his hair was cut short, unlike Betty's description.

"Andy DiMaggio, Dr. Kelly." Andy took note to accord Gina professional recognition and used her title. "Rocco's good to go. He has just a little respiratory problem, but the shot I gave him, along with these pills, should see him through. He's a great dog... lots of personality." Andy handed Gina the pill bottle and the bill.

"This is way too little, Dr. DiMaggio," Gina said, returning the favor. "I'm sure I owe you more."

"Nonsense! Betty's a good friend, and I'm happy to extend that friendship. Besides, I consider it a privilege to work with such a fine animal," he said, waving his hand in Rocco's direction.

"Well, thank you; that’s very kind of you." Gina said. She was going to ask him to dinner, since Betty was coming over Friday night, but remembered that Ben was out of town at a conference in Princeton until Saturday. She'd make a note for a boy-girl dinner next week sometime; perhaps after church on Sunday.

 

"He's very attractive, but not at all like I imagined. I mean, I expected Merry and Pippin to at least greet me at the door." Gina teased Betty. She smiled politely, but didn't laugh at what Gina thought was a very clever joke.

Betty was mulling over Gina's previous words, which described in detail his appearance, including his SHORT hair.

Betty wondered what was going on, since she had actually made a point of telling him how gorgeous his hair was.

"What's wrong, Betty. I can't get much cleverer than that, and you hardly laughed." Of course, Gina didn't feel upset over the slight; she just noted that Betty was lost in thought.

"Oh, I don't know. Andy seems a little distant lately. I don't think it has anything to do with me, but I'm just not sure. I know he was a little upset to hear that Carrie (his ex who had remarried) was pregnant. He told me she had said that she never wanted kids; his kids. And to find out she's going to have a baby? I think it got to him. But I still don't know.

Betty wasn't too far from the truth, but it involved much more than that. Gina came up with a brilliant idea.

"Here's a thought....perhaps....you could....ask him."

 

Andy sat on his couch. He had tried to read the novel he got from the library, but it just didn't hold his interest.

His Bible lay open face down on the couch next to him; covered by a very content tabby. He decided against disturbing Daniel; more out of a fear that he wouldn't find anything helpful rather than upsetting the cat. He was mistaken on both counts, but we won't fault him; God certainly wouldn't, and Daniel would just roll over and purr for the attention anyway. He turned and looked out his front window, as if someone was expected, but no visitors would be paying a call that day. For the first time in several months, he felt sorry for himself. He can be excused for that, even though he really didn't have much to be sorry for. He just fell into the trap that we sometimes do when we don't tell those we love how we feel, and we misunderstand what they have or haven't said.

 

"I'll be back to take your order," the waitress said as she deposited their drinks on the table. Andy sat across from Betty, but his mind was elsewhere. She stared at him as he looked out the window into the parking lot. She didn't feel slighted; he wasn't really ignoring her, but was lost in what looked a lot like doubt. His appearance underlined that idea since his long auburn hair had been cut very short. She normally wasn't a confrontational person, but she felt he needed her to ask anyway.

"Andy, why did you cut your hair? I thought you liked it longer." She wasn't criticizing him; it was his hair after all. It just seemed that his decision was more than just impulsive.

"I guess I needed a change." He wasn't lying. He really didn't know why, even though deep down, if he thought about it, with the right amount of time, he would have figured it out. We all do. Betty had not made a big deal of his cross dressing either way. She had been accepting and had even encouraged his alter-ego Andrea to "visit" on their fifth date. (It was an evening in; "she" wasn't ready for prime time.) She felt it was a way of getting to know the whole person better. After all, Andrea was a part of him, and she wanted to know all of him. And she wanted to get to know him much more than that. She wasn't normally confrontational, as I said, but she confronted him anyway.

"I don't think so, Andy." She said it softly, but she was direct. "I think you thought you HAD to cut your hair."

She actually grabbed his hand and pulled it. "I think you loved your hair, but for some reason, you felt someone or something else wanted you to cut it."

"Can we talk about something else?" Andy asked rudely. He was embarrassed and it started to show in his cheeks, which were growing red.

The dinner came. The food was hot; the waitress was charming and warm; the restaurant was cool; and the conversation was ice cold.

 

He dropped her at her place and went home. She had intended to help him, but her words had the opposite effect. He went straight to his computer as soon as he got home. Clicking on his photo page, he deleted everything and closed his account. He was weeping, as if he had lost a best friend or a sister. Actually he had, since Andrea was as much a part of him as his love for animals or his kindness. Even if Betty had expected him to purge this part of him, she would have been wrong on multiple levels. But she actually understood and accepted Andrea as part of his being.

Truth be told, like some other women we've met, she actually enjoyed Andrea's company, but that really shouldn't be a complete surprise. She was a caring, compassionate and loving person, and Andrea, as part of Andy, was entirely worthy of care, compassion, and love.

 

"Can I ask you a question?" Betty said.

"Counting that one?" Gina started to tease, but she saw that Betty was upset and immediately changed her tone. "Oh, I'm sorry, sweetie. Of course."

"I have a secret that I really wasn't asked not to share, but I feel I might betray someone if I share it." Betty looked at Gina, who responded.

"And you don't really have anyone else to turn to." Gina tilted her head slightly and continued. "Ask yourself this question: if I share this, will the other person be hurt or helped?"

"I think that he might be okay with it." Betty winced when she realized she used the pronoun "he," but Gina had that figured out already.

 

After a week of missed calls and phone tag, Betty was frustrated. She decided to get in her nesting mode. She was going through a box she had intended to take to school when she came across an old cassette she had kept from when she worked at the elementary school where she first started. It seemed like an odd coincidence given their "Mr. Rogers" connection, but the Director in this drama, like we’ve seen, perhaps had planned all along for her to find it. She listened to the lyrics as the old tape played for the last time before getting jammed in her player.

It's you I like, It's not the things you wear, It's not the way you do your hair--

But it's you I like The way you are right now, The way down deep inside you–

Not the things that hide you; not your toys-- They're just beside you.

But it's you I like-- Every part of you; your skin, your eyes, your feelings

Whether old or new; I hope that you'll remember

Even when you're feeling blue that it's you I like.

A look of recognition and realization passed over her face as Betty realized she needed to hear this one more time; not only for her friend’s benefit but her own.

 

Andy rose from the couch as his front door opened. Betty stood in the doorway with two bags of Chinese takeout and a bottle of Merlot. He had just gotten off the phone with her after telling her he wasn't hungry. She walked in and put the food and wine down on his kitchen table.

"I don't know what's going on. I don't understand what's going on. I don't care...I do care, but I can't care so much about what's going on that I can't just care for you." She grabbed his hand.

"You can't just shut me out after all this time. I don't know where you stand, but I know where I stand." She looked at him as if to say, "Here goes nothing," and she kissed him; perhaps more passionately and fully than she had ever kissed anyone in her life. He was so shocked that he actually forgot to kiss back...for just a few moments. When their lips parted, he was about to say something. She put her finger on his lips to shush him.

"Me first! Jackie would go through times when he didn't know who he was and what he wanted. I came home from school one time and I found the clothes Marta and I had loaned him on my bed in a pile. He was in his room, crying." She held his hands in hers and continued.

"He never felt he measured up to Daddy, and when he dressed, I think part of him felt even worse. Daddy was in the Air Force and was gone most of the time, and when he was home he was....an Air Force colonel. I mean, Daddy loved him and all, but imagine being a teenage boy in a dress with a Dad who flies planes and blows up things. So he got rid of the dresses and started reading books about planes and stuff. But it wasn't him; and it certainly wasn't… her. Jackie was a great kid. He was as good a son as anybody, and he never knew that. When he....we didn't know why, but Marta figured it out after talking with his girlfriend." Betty would have cried over this, but she was on a roll, and she didn't want to stop until Andy understood. "His girlfriend said that he never felt...good enough. I guess we never understood that side of him. We were just kids. They were just kids. She tried to help him understand that he was good enough, but she could never get him to understand that." She looked at him, her eyes widening in anger, but not at him but at the utter waste. "Do you understand?"

Andy looked at her and felt ashamed. All the things he thought he had dealt with came back like a flood. We never get over everything entirely. Some things need to be healed quickly and surgically. Other things need to be healed slowly, sort of like backing out of a narrow alley after going the wrong way. And sometimes we need someone behind us to tell us we're going in the right direction.

"You messed up your first marriage for a whole bunch of reasons. I understand that. After talking with you, I'm pretty sure that you've either fixed the problems or are in the process. But this isn't one of them." She actually put her hand on the top of his head and tousled his hair. He winced and tried to pull away.

"Fine," she said. Her eyes were filled with tears, but she would not be stopped. "Maybe you shouldn't wear your hair long; maybe you shouldn't wear dresses. Maybe you should have been a farmer or a cop or an architect instead of a vet.

Maybe you shouldn't have pets or friends or family or love." She was trying to be sarcastic because she was angry. She was angry because her brother killed himself over something stupid. He wasn't stupid, but he felt so utterly hopeless over something so small. She was angry at herself and she felt a little guilty, and she was wrong, but that was something they'd both sort out together.

"I...I repeat...I…don't… care. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I love you." She stopped when she realized what she had just said. In her entire life, even when she was engaged to Don, she had never used those three words that way. "I love you," she said softly. She looked at him and he looked at her. He might struggle from time to time gaining acceptance and forgiveness from the woman in his mirror. He might feel the need from time to time to lock his door. But he would never again need to worry about being accepted by the woman before him. He still appeared confused as she pulled him toward her for a hug they both needed.

"I love you,' she said again.

 

She sat on the couch, her Bible safely tucked in between her and the cushion. She and her best friend had just gotten back after a nice visit with some new friends. Never a very social person, her friend had convinced her that she was loved and accepted, prompting a rare excursion outside. She found out that her new friends were a lot like her, and she actually could enjoy life outside of her home and job. Her friend, who was now much more than just a friend, snuggled against her side in quiet sleep; a nice nap after a good meal with good company. She smoothed her skirt and absentmindedly went to brush back her auburn hair, which was only recently and ill-advisedly cut short. No mind; hair can grow back. A large tabby tom cat argued with little success with the female cat nestled between the two women on the couch. And both women had the prettiest smiles you'd ever want to see.

 

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