White and Yellow

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White and Yellow
By Sabrina G. Langton

***

Author's Note: I dig through my big dusty pile and read again. Find something I love.

I hope YOU like it.

***

A whole year ago today. I can not believe that we have been living in this wonderful house for a whole year.

I made coffee, something special, a special blend of something from Africa, Mexico, and probably Philly. I never know what they give me in that coffee shop, they scribble the name on the bag, and they always compliment my nails. I smile, I know everyone's name. Whatever they give me is always great, I am always happy with it, and my husband is even happier. He's easy.

God, a whole entire year, I still can't believe it. I was upstairs, I was outside our bedroom, I was leaning on the door, listening to hear if he was awake. I was holding a tray. I found it at a yard sale last year, not too far away. It was made of metal and wood and it had a painting on it. A painting of a dog, a golden retriever. I fell in love with it. The woman that sold it to me said her daughter, Haley, made it. She shellacked it so it wouldn't get ruined. She sprayed it with something else and she even signed the bottom. She told me her daughter wasn't here anymore. When she told me that, I started to tear up, I told her I was so sorry, I told her she had a lovely yard, lovely metal chairs, and a lovely Phillies logo on her shirt.

"No, no, it's okay." She said, she stood, she looked worried. "She lives near Boston now." She gave me an uncomfortable smile, she put her hand on my arm. She gave me back the money for the tray. "Please, a gift." I thanked her, and I told her I needed one, a tray not a gift, but a gift is always nice. I was upset all day. I sent my husband over later with flowers, with daisies, something bright, something that you would never see at a funeral. Actually, I was upset most of the month.

On the tray was an egg sandwich. Sourdough bread with two eggs sunny side up, gouda cheese, and sausage. It was getting cold but Austin would be okay with it. Austin, that's my husband, he's still sleeping, I can hear him breathing. Sometimes in the middle of the night when I come back from the bathroom, I lay in bed and listen to him breathe. I watch his body move, just a tiny bit. It makes me happy that he is an inch away from me. It puts me to sleep when I am ready. Sometimes I lean into him, my back against his hard body.

But the sandwich, that was how we met. This is the story I tell his friends when they ask. I do both voices, surprisingly.

*

"Hi, what can I get you?"

A man was talking to me. I was in a little coffee shop, I was nervous.

"Um, what do you suggest?"

"Egg, sausage, and cheese on Sourdough?"

"Perfect."

"Coffee?"

"Okay."

"I'll be right back."

I smiled, I was nervous, I was wearing a new dress, it was bright yellow. Not only was it yellow, but it was also short-sleeved and the hem came somewhere to the middle of my thighs. I had on nude pantyhose and four-inch white platform pumps. Oh, and my leather bag matched them. It was very bright, white and yellow. I was making a statement in March. Breakfast came I was eating eggs, the same color as my dress and heels. I couldn't pay attention to breakfast I was thinking about my wife.

Mmm, yes, my wife, I was actually male, well sometimes. I wasn't really that good at it. Melanie, my wife, had no time for 'this bullshit' that's what she called it when I dressed up. I thought of myself as a 'woman' in a dress, but Melanie thought of me as a pain in the ass. She said I couldn't focus, I couldn't pay attention, I couldn't remember to do anything she put on the 'honey-do' list she kept on the fridge.

She said I changed over the last year. I didn't want to tell her, it had nothing to do with change and everything to do with disappointment. When I had a day to dress feminine, to dress up, I always went all out. My hair, makeup, and nails were perfect, my lingerie always matched, and my dress and accessories were beyond fashionable. The last thing was putting in my earrings, then my necklace, I only had the one back then. I was looking in the mirror. For some reason, this was the hardest thing.

I could hear her yelling at me. "You can fix a broken heel on your shoe, you have time to take a thousand pictures, you spend two hours shaving your legs but I can't get you to get the oil changed in the car? Come on." She was mad this morning, I blame the yellow. I heard her drive off.

Sometimes I looked in my mirror, after everything was done, all the little things that made me happy were finished I could now get on with my day. The girl in the mirror would catch my eye. She gave me that look, you know that look... a little shake of the head, maybe a tsk sound, maybe lips would roll around on the face. I knew it, I was looking at the reflection, and I knew I let her down. Here I was thirty-eight, married with no children, with a wife that sometimes ignored me, sometimes said good morning, sometimes told me I ruined her life, but she was full of drama. She didn't like her family, she had been married three times already, she couldn't really blame me or this yellow dress. But when I saw the girl in the mirror, I always told her I was sorry. She used to be so beautiful, and happy, she would dance and shake her hair. When I look at old pictures I remember how lovely she was. When I view an old video I watch how she took her dainty steps, how she laughed, and how happy she was in a new pair of heels, with a new pocketbook or pair of stockings. She was easy too. Then she became more reserved, quieter, and didn't dress as bright or as wildly as she liked. Then she was done, she was living in some overpriced apartment with someone who wasn't interested, who didn't care, who was too busy writing lists to experience any fun.

"How is the coffee?" A man was talking to me, I tried to smile.

"Very good thank you."

"I blend it right here, I call this one 'Morning Magic,' it has a kick. I will give you some to take home."

"Okay, thank you." And he did. I was at the counter, I didn't finish my sandwich, and I barely touched my coffee. Melanie was going to a lawyer. Today was the day we would sign the papers. I would be single again. I would consider myself a single 'woman,' just for the heck of it. I figured if I dressed up, painted my nails, and came to this little town I could forget about Mel, forget about my old life, I would start something new.

"Here you go. Oh and here is another cup of coffee for the road." He smiled, he was being nice, he probably had a great life. He probably always got the oil changed in his car. He probably did everything on the 'honey-do' list. I'm sure he couldn't be bothered by the hair on his legs.

"Are you okay?" He was still talking to me, I couldn't really smile.

"Not really, but life goes on."

"Well if you need company I am completely available." He laughed, and he gave me the change and a little shopping bag with the blend.

"Well, c'mon then, let's go." I teased, and I tried to smile.

He called to the others behind the counter. "I'm going, if you need me call." He smiled at me and walked to the front of the counter, he made me take his arm, and we walked out of the coffee shop. We got married almost a year later.

God, a whole year, I still can't believe it.

*

I put the tray down. I put it on the little table in the hall as I lightly ran my fingers on the handles. We didn't have that many things in the house. I wasn't much of a shopper, I mean, clothes, of course, heels, I had too many, makeup, well I could start my own salon, but stuff, knick-knacks, things you needed, well, we really didn't have any. Austin didn't seem to mind, he knew I could get distracted by a new outfit, a new shade of lipstick, a mirror. This little table he bought at some store on his way back from work. It was perfect, I used it all the time. I went back to the door, I listened, I really didn't want to wake him. We were up so late, making love and talking, he wasn't a night person like me.

I sat on the floor, there were no chairs in the hall, just a table with cold coffee. I didn't want to start the day without him. I spread out, I stretched my legs. I told Austin I wasn't going to wear yellow today, I was going to mix it up, I wore gray. I had on a gray dress that reached the top of my knees, I had on a soft white sweater over it, cut very low, showing off the cleavage of my breast forms. I was even wearing nude stockings, I could see the lines from the garter through the tight dress, but I think it will be fine. I looked very sexy for a forty-year-old trans woman, though Austin always called me 'my woman in a dress,' that is how he introduced me to his friends, old and new. I was his woman, in A dress. He liked that, actually he loved that. He would tell them I was meeting him somewhere, I was picking him up or he was coming to get me. I would be wearing a dress, of course, I would. Now, the girl in the mirror never gave me that look anymore, she never, ever went, 'tsk.' Sometimes she's disappointed that I don't match, or the heel on my shoe is broken, but that's okay, I can handle a little bit of disappointment when it's necessary. When it's nothing that serious. When you are in love nothing like that really matters.

I was looking at my heels, they were gray and open-toed, and they were showing off my nails. I had a smile on my face, I would show them off to the girl in the mirror. She would smile and tell me to have fun today. She might even congratulate me on my anniversary. She might...

The bedroom door opened, I was startled, Austin was watching me on the floor. He smiled, and he sat down with me.

"Ooh, hold on." I got up and picked up the tray, the one with the little dog. It made me smile and I knew Austin loved it too. "I made breakfast, It's cold, I'm sorry." I started to lightly cry, I felt a tear in my eye.

"It's okay, you know me, I will eat anything a woman in a dress makes for me." He kissed me, I had the tray on my lap, balancing. He kissed me again. "What color are your lips?"

"Mauve."

"Mmm, they taste like it." And we kissed some more, his tongue in my mouth, his fingers in my hair. It was turning into a perfect anniversary.

"After I eat, I'll get ready, we can leave in a half hour, Alright?"

"Mmm, thank you." He kissed me again, my husband was very nice in the morning, he knew that I would stay with him while he ate breakfast, he knew I was watching him most of the night.

*

I was in our car, it was a Mazda, yellow, it was still Austin's favorite color. I had a shopping bag in the back filled with cookies and coffee, some special blends. I had a flower pot on the floor filled with daisies. I had my pocketbook on my lap, my legs were crossed and I was running my long nails on my silky legs.

"Look," I heard him he was holding the leash, he was following our golden retriever, "We almost forgot this."

He started to laugh, he put the dog in the back in his own special seat belt. He brought our tray, held it up, and showed me.

"I wasn't thinking," I made a cute face as he slipped into the car. "I'm sorry."

"You better be," He kissed me. He touched my face, "Happy Anniversary. I hope that you are ready for your gift." He made me smile, he was being so nice again, and he drank all of his cold coffee this morning.

"Thank you, I have been wanting to do this for so long. Afterward, we can just cruise, just the two of us and Shane." I motioned toward the back. "Life will be perfect."

"It is already perfect, baby. Okay, buckle up we have at least five and a half hours. It's a long trip."

"That's okay I feel so relaxed." I looked into the visor mirror, the girl inside smiled at me, she was happy we were taking this trip. She wasn't surprised I was taking her with us, but she was surprised we were both wearing gray. "I have the address in Boston, I thought for sure she wasn't going to give it to me. Plus I haven't talked to her since she gave us the tray." I shrugged. "I gave her more daisies, I think that's my thing, you know my present for people, white and yellow like your eggs."

"Ha, like when we first met, you were all white and yellow, my favorite colors."

"I hope her daughter, Hayley doesn't think we're crazy. She seemed a little suspect when I called if that was even her. I want to thank her for painting such a nice tray. It's my favorite possession."

"Well let's go." We drove off, it was going to be a long ride.

*

I didn't want to tell Austin, not that he would of cared, but I really just wanted to make sure Hayley was alive, I wanted to see her for myself, I never believed the neighbor. The look in her eyes that day made me so nervous. Once I see her for myself I will feel so much better. Then I will thank Hayley in person, of course.

I looked in the visor, and the girl in the mirror agreed with me, she was thinking the same exact thing.

***

The End

***

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Comments

Wow

erin's picture

It could be a poem.

Hugs,
Erin

= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.

I always

Like your stories. Sensitive (I hope it’s the right Word) but sexy at the same time...

Thank You

Sabrina G Langton's picture

Thank you Max for reading...

Question

Just one question: why do you post different stories on different sites ?

mainly it's because...

Sabrina G Langton's picture

I guess I save my sexier more explicit stories for a different site (Lit). Lately, I am very productive and I don't want to bombard any one site in particular. I am glad a friend introduced me to BC, I have stories that I have tweaked after gathering dust, and I am so glad I have gotten to share them. Sometimes I find a story that I wrote that I absolutely loved and then I rethink it, I hide it, I forget that it existed. Sometimes I'm crazy, ha. But mainly it's because different audiences expect different things, I try to make everyone happy, ha, but Sometimes I am even crazier. Thank you maxkm70 for reading and asking...

Loverly sweet story

leeanna19's picture

Lovely sweet story

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Leeanna

That was a sweet story

Julia Miller's picture

I’m glad our girl found someone to love after her ex wife rejected her. A happy ending is always nice.

Comfortable and understanding

Sabrina G Langton's picture

Thank you, Julia, I'm thinking it was mainly the heroine's fault, and she knew it. Then she found someone who made her more comfortable, someone who understood her better. Plus there is nothing like a happy ending, thanks for reading...

Please, please,

Emma Anne Tate's picture

Keep digging through your virtual pile. This was a gem. Thanks, Sabrina!

Emma

I bet she has lots more. We

leeanna19's picture

I bet she has lots more. We both post on Literotica. Almost all her stories are "HOT" on there. They contain a good deal of sex. I did tell Sabrina the ones without sex would get more appreciation here.

I love the way she writes. My stories take a short straight line to where I'm going. Sabrina's stories take a wonderfully pretty scenic route.

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Leeanna

Scenic and roundabout

Sabrina G Langton's picture

Thanks, Leeanna. I sometimes have trouble following a straight line and my backstories and timelines can sometimes intertwine. I try to simplify and then I put everything back to where I started. Ha, it takes me forever to drive anywhere too. Thanks again...

Nervous with eyes closed

Sabrina G Langton's picture

Thank you, Emma, I am always nervous when I put a story on BC. I feel like there is a higher standard here. Sex is so much easier, well writing about it is, ha. Thanks for reading.

Awww

Robertlouis's picture

A sweet and delightful story.

And that ending is just lovely.

Heartwarming writing. xx

☠️

A pre happy ending

Sabrina G Langton's picture

Thank you Robertlouis for reading...