Date: Fri, 31 Jul 2015 09:42:28 +0000 (UTC)
From: Beaumonte Bill <oral_guy_2000@yahoo.com>
Subject: Michael's Story Part 6

Michael's Story (part 6)

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.

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Andre's was bright and cheery.  Fun, multi-colored wall art and wallpaper
with soft colors. Youngish and attractive waiters and waitresses.  About
2/3 full and redolent with aroma of contemporary Italian.  Animated
conversation filling the space.  It was mixed but mostly straight.  As
usual I tried to avoid direct eye-contact, but from the corner of my eye, I
could see the usual number of quizzical looks, but nothing off-putting.
After all, they were not there to look at me, but do their own thing, and
after a few seconds, that is what they did.  I always entered a place like
this with a smile and a casual look and demeanor that proclaimed that I
BELONGED here.  There was only one person here in whom I had even remote
interest.

Michael was already seated.  He appeared to be totally absorbed in the
draft brief with his inevitable red pen scribbling all over it. But
miraculously also seemed to notice me as soon as I rounded the corner.  He
did not even glance at his watch. "True class", I thought.

His face betrayed instant recognition and a warm friendly smile.  As I
approached in my very best feminine glide (which was more like an old plane
landing in heavy air turbulence!), he rose and said, "How very nice to meet
you Ms. Cheryl!".  That winning smile put me instantly at ease, as did his
greeting.

My reply was unrehearsed, "And nice to make your acquaintance,
Mr. Michael!"  My smile matched his.

"Does it feel weird to you to see me like this?", I asked as I slid into
the booth. "Are you sure you are comfortable?"

"I feel fine about this, Car ... errr ... Cheryl".  He burst out laughing.
"It will take some getting used to calling you by your first name", he
sputtered.

"Why would you have to?" I responded. "After all, I would think that this
will be the rare or even sole occasion where you will be seeing me as
Cheryl versus Carl."

Hell!!  Why did I say that? I thought.  Or was I instinctively playing it
cool?

"Yeah, I guess you are right, Cheryl." He responded cooly.  "But I have to
admit that seeing you this way is ... well ... interesting!  I can sense
that you seem more yourself, even after being with you for a matter of
minutes.  As a friend, it's nice to see you feeling so natural.  And as the
way you like to be."

"Michael, you are a rare bird indeed." I shot back softly. "Rare, in a nice
way!  But we better order and see what sorts of questions you have with the
current drafts. "

How was my cool working girl act playing, I wondered.  And what
organization gave Oscars for best performance by a lead tranny at a working
lunch?  I mused further.

To punctuate our migration to professional endeavors, I donned my "other"
glasses that Michael had never seen. The ones with the purplish-frames.
Very stylish and unmistakeably femme.  I couldn't miss Michael's bemused
smile and my purposeful act of professional decorum.  I wasn't sure if my
own face betrayed a hint of the smile that I felt within.

I was very grateful for the diversion of the work portion of the lunch.  It
rescued me from either a complete melt-down or an embarrassing episode of
the giggles. Michael's kind words had gone to my core and I was feeling
quite a glow, feeling an affirmation more powerful than any I could
remember.  I tried to stifle the glow, and whether or not it came through
to Michael I could not divine.  Part of me hoped like hell that it did.
And a huge part of me hoped that it didn't.

The review of the brief was easy enough.  We smoothed out a few rough spots
in the analysis.  Michael had a skill in asking just the right questions to
sharpen my legal analysis and presentation.  Whatever else we had going on,
or not going on, we enjoyed a remarkable professional symbiosis.

I was still munching on my greek salad (a small one!) and trying to stifle
my craving for the yummy warm bread when we completed the review.  The
papers were out of sight when a couple of lattes arrived amidst desultory
small talk.

I was savoring the moment and thought I sensed something similar within
Michael.

Then his mood shifted slightly.  An uncharacteristic hint of awkwardness
came over him.

"Cheryl," he began, "There is something really special happening tonight
that I thought you might enjoy."

"Oh?" I responded.

"Yes. Rory Block will be performing in Dayton at a small blues venue.
Perfect place to catch her and feel the full force of her intensity.  A
rare opportunity."  He explained innocently enough.

I forgot all artiface and replied eagerly. "Oh my! You know how much I
idolize her!  Are you planning to go?"

He paused and continued, "... well ... yes. And ... uhhh ... I was
wondering if you would like to go with me. You know. One blues fanatic to
another!  And who wants to go alone? "

My eagerness was unabated and genuine "I'd love it! But why would you be
going alone?  Where will Celeste be?"

Another pause and then he continued, "Celeste is OK with the blues but
doesn't share the depth of my obsession.  Besides, she decided to spend the
week with her sister, Dorothy, up in Chicago. Enjoying the shopping, salons
and all and just catching up."

I laughed and said, "Hey guy, that ain't all bad.  I could go for a heapin'
helpin' of that!  Actually Patti and I have made that pilgrimage.  But even
that couldn't trump hearing Rory live and up-close!"

He went on, "That is what makes you so different."

Was he stifling an impulse to say more?

Then he continued, "But it is not all shopping fun. There is also a bit of
soul-searching going on."

He left it there realizing he may have said a bit too much.  And of course
I did not pry, although sensing he wanted to say more.  The distant
melancholy in his voice was quite apparent.  There was no way I could not
disregard all of the possible meanings in this tidbit of information.

There was another brief pause and I spoke up, "Michael are you sure you are
comfortable with this?"

He recovered and brightened, that wit never far from his consciousness,
"Hell yes, dahlink," he said with corny exaggeration ... corny but just the
right touch to break the tension. He went on, "Hell, Carl ... oops!
... it's just two colleagues enjoying their shared love of music and an
exceptional performer."

"You do know that I will be going as Cheryl?" I made sure.

"Of course," he replied without hesitation. "Let's just do it and enjoy the
evening."

"I know a great family-style Italian restaurant for dinner.  Shall I pick
you up at your place at 5?" He responded?

He did know Dayton much better than this new girl in town.

"Dinner?  Well sure as to both!" I said, grasping the implications.
"Sounding better and better!  But at least let me pay for that." I
continued.

He brushed it aside, "No way! But you can pick up a drink or two at the
club!"

"Some counter-offer counselor!  All you drink is bottled water!  But its a
deal!"  I replied catching the good humor or it all.

Then he said in sincerity, "Intense blues is my tonic!  Yours too!"

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To be continued ...

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

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