Date: Fri, 31 Jul 2015 00:07:43 +0000 (UTC)
From: Beaumonte Bill <oral_guy_2000@yahoo.com>
Subject: Michael's Story Part 5

Michael's Story (part 5)

Cheryl Marie was a lovely girl I met in Cincinnati a number of years ago.
Sadly, her life was cut short when she was hospitalized and died from
pneumonia acquired there.  This story is exactly as she wrote it, except
for a few spelling and grammatical corrections.  I publish this in fond
memory of her – I only wish she had lived to see it published.

––––––––––––––––––––

Although the new firm was fully accepting, I knew on a good night, I came
close, but really did not totally pass. Thus, I was uncomfortable about
presenting myself as a woman at the office.  The last thing I desired was
to be disruptive or an object of undue attention.

So I worked as Carl, but was able to reveal little signs of my true
inclinations, such as shaped and buffed nails, longish hair, arched
eyebrows, pierced ears and an increasingly smooth face as my beard slowly
ceased to exist thanks to painful, expensive, and never-ending electrolysis
treatments.

It was more than liberating enough just not to have to conceal these things
and to have candid discussions with anyone who cared to raise the topic.
But it was never a topic that I would raise or force upon others.

Yes, I did project an androgynous appearance at the least, but any opposing
counsel who thought I was a push-over in the courtroom or in depositions
was in for a rough mauling by my determined inner tigress.  That part of me
never faded or left me, nor would I want it to.

I dated a bit.  Some guys were nice.  Others exploiters.  Others shallow.
Yet others simply were not quite right.  None really seemed like true
soulmates or long-term lovers.  Not even short-term.  I was not interested
in brief sexual liasons.  Sex per se did not mean that much to me without
the power of some deeper relationship.

 I even hung out with a few women who seemed to enjoy being around me, but
nothing clicked.

I might even have a clickless life for the foreseeable future, but I could
accept that.  I was living my life and had some incredible friends.

I developed some fun friendships with several attorneys at the firm. Some
were openly gay or lesbian and tended to gravitate to me. Others were
straight (or appeared to be), but still found Carl to be an interesting and
fun person to be with.  I did have quite a range of interests that appealed
too many.  But some seemed to keep their distance.  That was quite OK with
me, so long as there was no hostility.

I had to admit, however, that Michael and I shared a special affinity.
Michael was five years older than I and about to enter his 50's.  He was a
partner of course, and I worked with him in the capacity of a senior, and
likely permanent, associate.  We worked on several complex and challenging
cases.  A brilliant and gifted litigator he was.  But his interests went
far beyond the practice of law.

Our working relationship involved many occasions just to chat and share a
lunch or espresso.  We talked easily and fluidly about many things.  While
we had some mild political differences, we found that we shared a deep love
for music, especially the blues.  And other things too!  I still loved to
watch a good hockey or football game, as did he.

Often leaving politics aside, we would share favorite old and new
recordings, artists, and concerts. We both adored (a word Mike would NEVER
use!) delving beneath the surface of well known acts to find exciting
talents.

Michael often said that he didn't know anyone else who loved and sought out
music as fanatically as he did, who had a feeling for it, or loved to share
it.  He didn't have to say that it included his wife, Celeste, but the
wistful look in his face said it all.

When I saw that look, I felt something melt inside.  For Michael was not
only smart, talented and full of good and humorous spirit, but had a very
appealing and warm look with soft blue.  It was a smooch short of
male-model handsome, but who needed that.  And he was in pretty good shape!

His appealing smile and warm demeanor would make me long for things that I
had no right to desire or want.  But I couldn't deny these feelings or
their power.  But I could control my actions ... I hoped!  After all, he
was one very special person and man.

But I had more immediate concerns.  Like what to wear!!!  I reached out to
Karoline for help, who texted an S.O.S. to my best friend, Patti, who
hustled right over.  I filled her in quickly and we began to go over the
choices.

I would normally wear a jeans and sweater on a Saturday afternoon. But
without deeply thinking of why (or was it too obvious?), I wanted Micheal's
first glimpse of me to be with me at bit more feminine.  Professional,
tasteful, and pleasing, but feminine. That meant a dress.  Normally I would
obsess over something like this for days in advance.  So many options, but
we quickly settled on a long and loose skirt with black background and a
deep purple floral pattern.  To accompany it, we selected a favorite
long-sleeved button up blouse that matched the deep purple color of the
floral pattern and was constructed with crushed faux satin material. I
adore long decorative scarves and selected a basic black, shimmery one
hanging loose.  A gold colored belt, tasteful gold hooped earrings, and a
long gold necklace completed the look.  Sensible flats suggested nothing
untoward, and my longish hair was pulled behind my head.  I chose
understated make up ... wine colored lipstick and barely a touch of blush.

All very classy as we both agreed.  I was OK with what I saw in the mirror
and was satisfied. "Not bad for a girl in her mid-40's, I thought, although
most thought I had yet to see forty.

Of course we dished more than a bit about Michael.

Patti said, "After all the talk about him you will finally let him see the
real you?  Are you nervous?"

"Damned right I am!" I What will he think?  Why do I care so much?"

My doctor friend gave me a hard stare and said "You know damned well why!
Just be careful my sweet friend!"

"Oh hell!  I have to be.  This is just a nice working lunch.  But I don't
want to look thrown together!" I replied lamely.

"Worry not.  You don't." she replied, "But don't let your eyes, smile or
voice give you away. You know the score here, as well as I. But call me
later, dammit or I shall never talk to you again!  At least for a week,
babydoll!"

"I promise to play it cool.  It's only a lunch!" I said again with
unconvincing protest. "And if I keep saying that, maybe I'll actually
believe it!"

She chuckled and said, "With his situation, it is likely that he will
behave himself.  Now get the hell out of here!  And don't forget to eat
only a fraction of what you are served!"

As I was driving over, the reality struck hit me.  In addition to being
married and working in the same office, why the hell would he have anything
other than a friendly interest in someone like me?  And am I ready and
prepared for such a thing, even if it were to happen?

This sobering thought both saddened me and dampened my raging imagination
at the same time.  Was it possible for me to have anything like a true
relationship and stable life?

After parking the car, I looked at my watch.  Only 35 minutes late! I took
a deep breath and walked out the door.

––––––––––––––––––––
To be continued ...

Feel free to contact me with your comments or requests.  –Bill
(oral_guy_2000@yahoo.com)

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