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Chapter Text

Jen was outside waiting for her Uber ride. She was running late and a little impatient, running her hand through her hair nervously.

She’d been too late for work too often lately. Her depression, anxiety, and dysphoria had been ganging up on her. She’d skipped her trans support group this month and missed her last appointment with her therapist, and could feel it all catching up with her.

She stared up the road looking for the red Prius Winston, her driver, was supposed to be driving. She checked the other direction and thought she saw it pulling up.

She heard X-Ray Spex's "Oh Bondage Up Yours" cranking out the car, but then heard it switched to NPR as they got closer. She smiled.. She’d rather hear “Oh Bondage”!

She briefly remembered her teenage best friend and how hard he laughed when he found out she thought they were singing “Hurry up, hairy camel!” His name was Winston too.

A handsome fellow, in his early thirties like her, stuck out his head and then in a British accent asked, “Jen? Jen Reynolds?”

“Shit! Shit! Shit!’ she screamed silently in her head.

Her head quickly ran through a couple of scenarios.

Maybe this was a different Winston with a British accent. Oh fuck! How many British Winston's in their early thirties could be living in fucking Des Moines, Iowa?

But what’s he doing here? The last thing she knew was that he got sent back to England to his dad to go to a boarding school.

Maybe he won’t remember him? His closest friend in his teens who introduced classic punk to him and bonded with him since they were both outcasts? Yeah sure!

Maybe he won’t recognize her? Yeah… A Jen Reynolds who looks like his best teenage friend, Jack Reynolds!

“Shit! Shit! Shit!”

Winston aka Winston Hamilton, but called Churchill by his friends, watched the woman pause and go through a bunch of consideration before finally hopping in his car.

“Hello, love! Heading to Verne Deadwood?”

Jen had to smile. She always loved hearing him talk with British accent and slang. It was stupid, but for this Des Moines girl it sounded so exotic.

“Yes,” Jen replied, trying to talk as little as possible so her voice wouldn’t be recognized. But on the plus side, her voice sounded very different now.

“Beautiful day!” Churchill offered.

“Yes. Yes, it is!”

Churchill figured she must be one of those introverts who doesn’t like talking to strangers.

But damn it, he wanted to ask her about her last name. It was the same as his closest friend in high school. And she looked a lot like him too. Just basically a feminized version of his face! She had to be related! But he was the type that didn’t like to be a nuisance, though to be honest, his friends would say he could be a big nuisance.

Churchill turned to the NPR story about a blues singer turning 80.

After the piece ended, he got up his courage, tilted his head a little towards the back, and said, “Your name is Jen Reynolds?”

Jen’s breath stopped and her heart started pounding. Kim didn’t realize it, but she was digging her fingernails into her palms.

“Yes?” she said very quietly and reluctantly.

Churchill picked up on her reluctance. He could read people pretty well. At least, some of the time. Other times, he seemed completely oblivious. But this was one time when he could see what his question had done.

“I’m sorry! I don’t mean any trouble! I just knew a Jack Reynolds when I was young. We were really close. Practically like brothers! I was hoping you might be related. I really miss him and think about him from time to time. But I don’t want to cause any trouble if that’s a problem for you.”

Kim took a deep breath and tried to calm herself.

“Sorry, I don’t know him.”

She could see the back of Churchill’s shoulders drop in disappointment and hear his sigh.

“Oh okay,” he said flatly. “You just kind of look like him. Thought you had to be related.”

A deep silence filled the car with Jen not wanting to say more and Churchill didn’t really have anything else to say and couldn’t think of anything else to add. Only the noise from NPR on the latest going ons in Washington.

Churchill was usually respectful of passengers who prefer to ride in silence. Part of why he played NPR instead of his beloved classic punk when others were in the car.

But other times, Churchill just had to talk. At times like this, words would just pour out of him.

“I don’t know how to explain it. We were like brothers. I don’t think I was ever closer to anyone in my life. Even with my girlfriends.”

Churchill paused for a second. From what Kim could see of his back side, he seemed lost in thought, seeming to look past where he was driving.

“I don’t know. I read this interesting piece once about how soulmates don’t have to be lovers. You can have friend soulmates and ever dog soulmates. That anybody who gets or understands you, no matter what your relationship to them is, can be a soulmate.”

Churchill took another short pause.

“I immediately thought of my mate, Jack. We were so different in many ways, but we still seemed to be on the same wavelength. We seem to understand what the other was talking about.”

Another pause.

“For instance, everyone knew Jack was gay. Well, everyone except maybe Karl. He never really talked about it. And I never pushed him.” Then in a slightly jovial voice, “I sometimes asked some probing questions, but I never pushed too hard. He obviously wasn’t ready and didn’t want to deal with it.

“But I was ready to support him, because he was my mate. And I’m no homophobe! I made it clear I supported gay rights so he’d hopefully be more comfortable if he chose to come out.”

Jen’s mind went back to the times when she and Churchill would hang out in one or the other’s bedroom, listening to punk from the 70s and 80s, have long conversations on various subjects, Churchill’s current romantic infatuation, early punk rockers, the science fiction shows Kim loved, family life, school life.

Those were actually some of the best times of her childhood and when her dysphoria and depression seemed to float away. During their conversation, she could relax. In some ways, it was actually her happy space.

She heard Churchill start talking again,

“I don’t know. Maybe we’ve both changed too much and it wouldn’t be the same. People grow and change. Maybe he’s happily married to some bloke and doesn’t need Prentice bringing up trouble and strife in his life again.”

Jen felt trapped. Part of her was enjoying what she heard. She would have happy thoughts about Churchill. Churchill was the best part of her childhood.

But it made her feel weird and awkward hearing about the boy she once thought she was. In some ways, she just wanted to ignore her past and pretend it never happened. That her life started when she became Jen.

“I’ve tried to get in touch with him a couple of times, but for one reason or another, I never heard from him. So maybe he doesn’t need me mucking up his life more than already did when we were in school. I mean I actually got him and I kicked out of school. So maybe it is just as well.”

“Well, listen to me go on! Blabbering about something that I’m sure is of no interest to you. Ruining your nice, quiet ride to work. I’m sorry, I’ll be quiet the rest of the trip.”

Jen felt bad. She did miss Churchill. But how the hell would she explain… all this!

And since her parents cut her off, she had had no interest and desire in dealing with her past. She just wanted to start Jen’s life and leave Jack in the past where he belonged. And that meant giving up some of the things that were actually good about her past.

Chapter Text

Jen rushed to the bathroom and into one of the stalls, slamming the door shut and plopping right down on the toilet seat.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

She closed her eyes and took in slow, deep breaths. Then started counting downward from 99.

What the fuck is he doing in Des Moines? He was in London last she heard. Why the fuck would he come back to Des Moines, Iowa, of all places?!

86, 85, 84,83…

Her therapist has told her over and over that the past has a way of catching up one way or another. In fact, most of her support group were still in contact with their families and dealing with the past on a regular basis.

In some ways, she was kind of lucky her parents did cut her off. She didn’t know how some of the others put up with some of the crap they got from their families.

63, 62, 61…

And then, of course, there was the god damn lucky bastards who still had good relations. Ugh!

Her therapist told her how stupid it was to be jealous of them, and how each situation brings its own difficulties, but still…!

Damn it, Churchill! She was holding up pretty well before he showed up in her life again!

37, 36, 35…

She heard her therapist going, “You live in your hometown and Des Moines isn’t that big! You’re going to bump into people who knew you before you realized who you really were!”

Jen was, in some ways, envious of those trans in the old days who went totally “stealth” in decades past, moving to a new town, totally ignoring and hiding from their past. Why was she staying in Des Moines?

13, 12, 11…

She concentrated on her breathing and counting. And when she reached one, she just concentrated on her breathing.

She wondered what time it was. She was probably going to be late…. Again!

Her boss was actually pretty kind and considerate. She knew Jen had “issues” and was seeing a therapist. But there was a limit to how much her boss would put up with and had let her know.

Still, they were the only two women in the IT department, so they did have something of a bond.

Her mind went back to her breathing.

After a few breaths, she faced the fact that she needed to get out of the stall. She didn’t know what the other woman would be thinking of her concentrated deep breaths, but Kim had some crazy ideas, mostly unfounded though and more in her head than in reality.

She opened her eyes and stared blankly at the door.

She was bolted by a knock.

“I’m sorry,” she heard a voice say.”Are you Jen?”

“Yes?” Jen answered, barely audible.

“An Indian guy named Mitra asked me to tell you that he covered for you so far this morning, but you better get up there!”

Oh shit! “Okay, thank you!”

Churchill watched the strangely cute woman hurry out of his car and into the building. And a sense of guilt came over him. He had obviously upset the woman even if he really wasn’t sure how he did it.

Fucking hell, Churchill! What the fuck is wrong with you?!

Churchill turned off his Uber app and headed to the freeway.

But what did he say that was so awful? He just talked about how he and Jack were good friends, practically brothers really.

Did that do it? She was obviously related and knew Jack. Was Jack dead? In jail?

Please, Jack, don’t have offed yourself! Churchill couldn’t handle another suicide in his life.

Churchill hated offending people, but he seemed to have quite the skill and talent of doing it anyway! Always just blurting things without thinking of how it might affect others!

Churchill saw the MLK turn and pulled into the exiting lane.

He went over the conversation in his mind! Conversation! Ha! Fucking bloody speech it was! And no way for the woman to escape!

And how the hell did he know Jack was gay! Maybe he was just, what do they call it,,, effeminate.

No, he knew Jack was gay. Was fairly sure Jack had had a bit of a thing for him actually.

But maybe he was wrong. People are always telling him that he makes too many assumptions about people!

Oh shit! Was Jack a child molester?

Oh fuck, really, Churchill? Must be a child molester cus he was gay! This is why people bitch about you!

Churchill even knew most child molesters were straight!

Fuck! His friends were right! He could be really bigoted sometimes!

Easter Lake came up and Churchill pulled into the parking lot. This was one of his favorite spots to sit and think.

Chapter Text

Tired and beat for the work day, Jen shuffled slowly, arms dangling, her purse looking like it dropped off her fingertips, to her apartment from her Uber ride.

Earlier in the day, she had thought of setting her Uber app so Churchill couldn’t be her driver. Out of guilt, she gave me a five star review before doing so.

She unlocked her door with a little difficulty and when on the other side, she laid her head on the door as she closed it.

After a moment or two, she got up and headed out of the little foyer of her small townhouse.

Before she could get much further than the foyer, she heard a knock on the door. “It’s me, Nthabiseng!”

Nthabiseng was her neighbor. An African woman in her fifties who took care of her two grandchildren. Through the couple of years Jen lived there, Nthabiseng and her had become quite close.

Nthabiseng was taken aback when Jen had opened up about being trans, but Nthabiseng seemed to work through it and decided if Jen was happy, that was important. And that Jen was a good friend she didn’t want to lose.

Jen walked back to the door and unlocked. Yelled, “Come in!” as she turned around and walked to her couch where she plopped herself down hard.

“Oh, Ausi Jen, are you okay?!” Nthabiseng asked as she entered. Even after being in the United States for five years, she still threw in some Sesotho when she spoke. She was carrying a covered dish with her. Jen had texted her from work.

“Ho lokile!” Jen responded in some of the little Sesotho she had picked up from Nthabiseng and her two daughters. For emphasis, she gave a thumbs up while still sprawled on the couch.

“You are most definitely not lokile, morali oa ka! I’ve brought over some dinner, so you don’t have to cook! Just let me put it in the microwave to heat it up!”

Immediately after putting it in the microwave, she set the place for Jen, knowing from many visits exactly where everything was and placed a glass of water for herself across the table.

Kim must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew, Nthabiseng was shaking her awake and saying, “You can go to bed after you eat and give me the details of this morning!”

Jen had a pretty good idea what the meal would be, meat cooked well done, some mixed vegetables, and something Nthabiseng called papa, which was basically what the South called grits as far as Jen could tell.

Jen sat at the table, and the generously sized dark woman sat across from her, taking a sip from her glass.

Nthabiseng had shown her how they rolled the meat and vegetables into a pop with the papa and ate it with their hands, but she always felt funny doing that, so Nthabiseng had given silverware.

“Okay, child, spill!”

Jen chewed and swallowed what she had in her mouth, “I don’t even know where to start! I don’t know why it bothered me so much. He was actually very nice and polite about everything!”

“Put on some of that electronic music you like,” suggested Nthabiseng.

Jen pulled out her phone and put on her playlist of mellow, electronic music she loved, playing on her speakers through her Bluetooth. Churchill had actually indirectly led her to this music, though he found it tiresome and boring.

The opening notes of Kraftwerk’s Europe Endless came out of her speakers.

“Okay, ausi, you know this guy from high school when you were a boy… well, living as a boy.”

It had taken some time, but Nthabiseng finally understood that Kim had always been a girl and had always known it and only living as a boy. She still occasionally mixed up how she talked about things and referred to her as he/him when talking about her past, but she was trying and putting in effort to get things right.

Jen gave a sigh. “Yeah,” she said slowly. “We were actually best friends. We tended to spend every afternoon and weekend together, either at his place or mine.”

“Okay, I got it. You were chums and best friends like many boys.”

“Yeah…. except I really wasn’t a boy, was I?”

Nthabiseng raised her eyebrows.

Jen gave a shy smile and looked down.

“Molimo oa ka! You liked this boy!”

“Yeah, I did… But I was living as a boy and he wasn’t gay. So….”

“Did he know?”

“I think he suspected, but we both… just kind of… left it unsaid. He wasn’t interested in me that way…. And I knew it.”

“And you never told him about your feelings about actually being a girl?”

“I kind of would bring it up, like a joke or something. Or just ask if he ever thought what it was like to be a girl. He basically said not really and shrugged it off. Probably just thought, ”There goes Jack being his weird self!””

Nthabiseng reached over and held Jen’s hand looking into her eyes with her dark penetrating dark brown, almost black eyes. She shook her hand and said sadly, “A che!”

en
J

“I never really thought of it that way, but I guess so.”

Nthabiseng waited to hear, but could see that Jen didn’t want to say anything more. She understood.

Even though Jen was in her early 30s, Nthabiseng, being over 20 years older, thought of her as a child and was very protective of Jen. She would wait to hear the rest when Jen was ready.

“I like this song! Is this that French guy?” Nthabiseng asked to change the subject.

“Jean-Michel Jarre?” Jen said, showing off a big smile she rarely used. “Yeah! You like it?!”

“Yeah, I do.” Then Nthabiseng listened to Jen go on about other artists like this whose names Nthabiseng would never remember, but she loved the way Jen would get so excited and animated when she talked music.

Chapter Text

Churchill was jumping up and down, and unfortunately spilling beer on people. They were closing with one of his favorite songs of theirs, The One For Me.

"Can you see it in the way
That I say I luv you in the morning of every single day?
Ya you know that it's true
A whoa oh oh oh oh oooh
Do these words mean nothing to you?
A whoa oh-oh oh oh oh oh
Cuz I mean it when I say to you
That I ain't goin nowhere"

Lipstick Homicide’s bassist, Kane, looked over at the guitarist, Rachel, and both shook their heads and smiled. They knew Churchill. He came to see them every time they played in Des Moines. Even occasionally when they were in the nearby college town, Ames.

A woman in her early fifties put her hand on Churchill and yelled in his ear for him to calm down. Churchill, when he was out, usually drank too much, and Susan, being the oldest member in their friend group, tended to play group mom.

Churchill looked around and realized how obnoxious he was and put his hands up in an apologizing gesture. One gal mouthed “Thank you!” to Susan.

After the band finished, Churchill said hello to the band and gushed about how great the performance was, as he did every time they played. But he was a little drunker than normal, so there was extra gushing going on.

The band tried to be patient and tolerant. “Thanks for coming, Churchill,” said Rachel. "It’s always nice to see you at our shows,” added the drummer, Luke.

“Okay, Churchill,” Susan said, grabbing him. “Let’s let the band break down and load.”

Susan gave the band a little of an apologizing smile and nod and started taking Prentice back to their table.

“I need some air!” Churchill declared, so Susan headed to the front door.

When they were outside, Churchill jumped up and down.

“God, they’re so good! They’re always so good!”

“Yes, Churchill, they are definitely a fun band to see.”

Churchill turned to Susan and gave her a serious look. “You know I really don’t need a babysitter. I’m not that drunk!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They stood quietly for a few seconds, looking at each other. Churchill eventually turned away from their undeclared staring contest.

“If you’re not that drunk, why don’t you tell me why you’ve been acting like an ass all night?”

“Oh, come on! I haven’t been that bad!”

“Churchill, I love you, but I can’t lie. You’ve been a big ass tonight!”

Churchill looked at the ground and sighed.

“It’s a girl, isn’t it?”

“No!” Churchill answered defensively. Then after a pause, “Okay, yes, a girl is involved. But not like that!”

Lipstick Homicide came out lugging equipment. They gave Susan an enquiring look to which she replied with a small nod.

“Okay, then tell me how it is.”

Churchill sat down on a chunk of cement holding a fence up. Susan walked over and sat next to him.

They sat there in silence for a while.

“I don’t know. I upset this passenger I had. She even blocked me from giving her any more rides.”

Susan gave an exasperated sigh. One her two sons knew well. "Churchill, what did you say?”

“She looked like my old high school chum I’ve told you about. You know, Jack?”

“Yeah, you’ve talked about him before.”

‘She even looked like him! So I asked if she knew him, thinking maybe Jack and I could get reconnected.”

“Okay, that doesn’t seem so bad.”

‘Yeah, but after she said she didn’t know him, I went on about Jack and me, how much I missed him and how close we were.”

“Okay, that seems fine.”

Churchill got agitated and started throwing small pebbles he found on the ground. “You would think so. But she got agitated and tensed up like I was grilling her for information in an old 40s film!”

“Ohhhhhhh. Seems you must have touched a nerve, hun.”

“I must have. Because she got out of the car like a bat out of hell!”

“What have I told you about quoting classic rock?!”

Churchill chuckled at the joke.

“I would never quote Meatloaf unless it was from The Rocky Horror Picture Show!”

Susan smiled in return at his own joke.

She put her arm around Churchill. “She obviously knew Jack and you touched a raw nerve. I’m sure you didn’t mean to. You can be an ass, Churchill, but you got a good, caring soul.”

After a short pause, Susan continued, “I think it just hurt her to hear about Jack again for whatever reason. She obviously didn’t want to talk about it since she said she didn’t know him. You couldn’t have known, Churchill. I think you’re off the hook for this one. Besides, it sounds like you won’t be giving her any more rides.”

Churchill looked at Susan. “I guess so, ‘Mom’.”

She gave him a friendly nudge, and then said with a smile, “Well, with you, you can never be too sure. But yeah, I would say so.”

Churchill nodded his head.

“Okay, we got to go inside and make sure those knuckleheads have paid up and everything so we can get home and make sure our rascals haven’t done too much damage! And you really haven’t talked much to Joyce’s new girlfriend besides a greeting.” “Why? She’s just going to be with someone else next time!” “Winston!” Susan gave him her stern motherly look. But she also knew he was right!

THE END!!! (No, people, I'm just kidding!)

Chapter Text

UPDATE: I've decided I've changed enough here to make this mine own. About the only thing I've kept the same is a guy meets a childhood friend who is trans. And that is an extremely common trope in trans fiction. In fact, it's used a LOT in literary trans porn. So I feel totally comfortable and justified in using that part!

So anywaaaay.... if you have been reading this, Paul Prentice is now Winston Hamilton alias Churchill and Kim Foyle is Jen Reynolds.

Nthabiseng knocked on the door and immediately entered, shouting, “Lumela!”

“Hey, Nthabiseng,” said her neighbor, sitting at the kitchen table with an empty cup of tea, staring out the window.

Nthabiseng sat across the kitchen table from her and looked at the window. She didn’t see anything notable.

“Lost in thought?”

“Yeah, sorry,” she answered and then turned and looked at Nthabiseng.

Nthabiseng smiled at her.

“What?!” asked Jen, defensively.

Nthabiseng continued to smile and just raised my eyebrows in reply.

Jen let out a long sigh, and after a second or two, “Okay, yes, it was him.”

“So have you sent him a friend request on Facebook?”

“I didn’t rejoin Facebook to friend Churchill.”

Nthabiseng just continued to smile and shook her head.

“You know you’re a pain in the ass sometimes!”

Nthabiseng let out a big bellowing laugh that made her sizable breasts bounce.

“Yes, I know. You rejoined Facebook this week… for the first time since your transition… just to keep up with what I and the kids are up to!”

“Well, you and my therapist keep saying I need to connect more with people! Make friends!”

Jen blew some of her black hair out of her face.

“Your roots are starting to show. We need a new hair appointment! Maybe we can go in together!”

They sat in silence for a moment.

“You could unblock him on Uber, you know?”

“Please. Can you stop?”

“I’ll stop when you stop! It’s been what? 4? 5 weeks?”

“I don’t know. I’m not keeping track!”

Nthabiseng muttered under her breath, “A che! Molimo oa ka!”

Then she added, saying each word slowly, “You are so stubborn, child!”

Jen looked back at her and then said, “Have you come here just to harass me? You know, I could just hang out with your kids if I wanted that!”

Nthabiseng let out a little chuckle to that.Then got sort of serious, but had a knowing smile.

“You didn’t contact him, did you?!”

“Oh, please, ausi! You know better than that! You want to waste your time sitting and pining over some boy, who am I to stop you?! No, this is something else!”

Jen gave her a quizzical look. And then brushed her hair out of her face.

“You need to get a haircut, too, while you’re there!”

“Okay, what’s your big secret?”

“You know how you’re always there to help us any time.”

“Oh please, Nthabiseng! You have helped me more than I ever helped you!”

“Well, I disagree! So I got you a present!”

Jen scrunched her eyebrows a bit. “What kind of present?”

Nthabiseng stretched an envelope across with her long, dark fingers. She was a bigger woman, but somehow her fingers were long and delicate.

Jen looked at the envelope and then looked at Nthabiseng to see her expression. She was almost jumping up and down in her chair.

“Open it, silly!”

Jen did as she was told. She saw two tickets inside. She pulled them out.

“You shouldn’t have! They are so expensive!”

“Well, you talked about how you wanted to go and it would be a good way to get you out of your apartment!”

“But I don’t have anybody to go with!”

“Then I guess it’s you and me, girl! Besides, it's a couple of months away.” Nthabiseng raised her eyebrows. “You might find somebody to go with by then!”

Jen shook her head. And then added, “But you don’t even like the B-52’s!”

“I don’t hate them! I enjoy them. I just said I wouldn’t spend that kind of money to see their show!”

“But you did!”

She reached her hand over and put it gently on top of Kim’s hand. “Some people are worth it!”

Chapter Text

Peace, Love, and Stuff was performing their final song. The lead singer, Lavonne, was singing her bluesy heart out while their guitarist, Dylan, was shredding like mad.

“At the time
I met you
You came
To my rescue
And I
Didn't even know it

I looked at you
You looked at me
I close my eyes
And all I see

Purple yellow
Orange and green
You know exactly
What I mean

Purple lightning
Striking me
I hope you
Never let me be
Oh no!”

Churchill was up front, but much less intoxicated than he was at the Lipstick Homicide show.

After the band said their good night, the lights went on and the bar played some music.

“Hey, Churchill, nice to see you!” said Lavonne as she rolled up her mic cable.

“Always great to see you perform, Lovely!”

Lavonne smiled at the compliment.

Churchill turned to Dylan. “Bloody hell! How do you keep getting better at the guitar?”

Dylan laughed. “Thanks. Appreciate your support!”

Churchill yelled a hey to Smitty, the bassist, and JoJo, the drummer! They yelled a hey back as they continued packing.

Churchill headed back to his table of friends.

Churchill’s gang of friends were grabbing their coats and stuff.

“So did the cutie singing… What's her name again?’ asked Mark, Susan’s younger husband.

“Lavonne,” responded Churchill.

“Lavonne help you forget the gal you’ve been pining over?”

“I haven’t been pining over her!”

“So you do, though, admit you’ve been thinking about her?” asked Jeff, someone Churchill knew from when he worked at a record store.

Churchill sighed.

Tammy, Jeff’s long time girlfriend, and her bestie, Joyce, start singing. “Baby, I need your lovin' /
Got to have all your lovin'.”

Joyce’s new girlfriend laughed a little too loudly. The one before hadn't worked out.

“Oh. fuck off!”

Joyce says, “Excuse me, but what does this ‘Fook off’ mean?”

Churchill regularly got some ribbing for how he said “fuck”.

“Excuse me, miss! Can you kindly fahhhhhk off to hell!” Churchill follows this by raising two of his fingers.

“Is that supposed to be a peace sign or something?” Joyce giggles.

Tammy added, “Would that be the ‘bloody hell’ you keep speaking of,”

Susan speaks in her maternal authoritative voice, “Okay, guys, that’s enough. Give the guy a break.”

Churchill grabs his coat, puts it on roughly, and heads for the door.

“I got it,” Susan informed the gang. Then she turned to Mark, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and said, “Meet me outside, hun!”

Susan found Winston outside with the smokers and others. As she walked up to him, he said, “Hello, Mum! What a surprise to see you!”

“I’m sure she’s related to Jack!”

“Maybe, maybe not. But she obviously doesn’t want to see you!”

“I don’t think I deserved to be blocked on Uber because of what I said!”

“No, you didn’t. But you are getting stalky! How much time have you spent googling her?”

“I’ve done some searching, but not that much!”

“Is she on Facebook?”

“Okay, I checked a couple of weeks back. She’s not!”

“Let me guess. You googled ‘Jen Reynolds Des Moines Iowa’?”

Churchill said nothing but gave an embarrassed smile.

“So what did you find?”

Churchill sighed. “Well, thankfully, I don’t think she’s related to our governor, but all I found was that she was employee of the month at Verne Deadwood a year or two ago."

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound like a stalker at all!”

Churchill sighed once more. “Dammit! I am obsessed!”

“Admitting you have a problem is the first step, hun.”

Churchill looked out lost in thought. “I really need to let her go, don’t I?”

“Yeah, I think you do.”

Mark walked up to them. “All good?”

“Yeah,” Susan answered. “I think so.” She gave a quizzical look to Churchill.

“Yes, We are.”

Mark then added, “I don’t mean to be a pest, Churchill, but do you have the money for the B-52’s?”

Chapter Text

The Tubes were just finishing “Don’t Touch Me There” as the last song of their encore.

Susan looked at Mark and fanned herself playfully!

Mark quietly told her, “I’ll take care of that at the hotel!” And follows it with a wink,

Susan jabbed him with her elbow. “Stop! Behave! ‘The children” are here!”

She and Mark would call their gang of friends ‘The children’ because her and Mark were called and considered the mom and dad of the group. If anything needed settled, Susan’s word was law!

“People are heading up front!” yells Churchill at Susan. “We better head up there if we want to be in front!”

“Okay, people!" Susan yells in an authoritarian mother voice. “Time to head up front. Stay together and nobody get lost!” Susan grabbed Mark’s hand and Tammy grabbed Jeff with one hand and her bestie, Joyce, with the other hand. Churchill led the way, saying, “Sorry!” and “Excuse us!” as he pushed his way through the crowd and made a path for his friends.

As he pushed past the last person to get to the front, Churchill heard an angry, “Hey!”

Churchill turned toward the noise, and saw a man about 20 years old… with beer spilled down his front.

“I’m sorry. Do I do that?” asked Churchill.

“Yeah, clumsy,” said the young man with some bravado.

Churchill pulled out a five dollar bill and shoved it in the young man’s hand. “Sorry about that, mate!” Gave him a pat on the forearm and turned back to the front.

Churchill got right up the barrier, just right of the center of the stage. His friends staying a little further back.

In front of the center of the stage was a couple who looked around 60s, both wearing very old and worn t-shirts from much earlier shows of the B-52’s.

On the other side of them was an average height woman with black hair in her mid-30s.

She turned to a taller, darker, curvier, older woman next to her. “Nthabiseng, you sure you’re comfortable being pressed up here?”

“Ausi, I’m fine. And I have my ear plugs with me! I’ll be fine. Just relax and enjoy the show!”

Churchill chatted with his friends and the couple next to him while they waited for the B-52’s to start. It turns out the couple were long time fans from 1979 when the B-52’s first album came out.

“So how did a young’un like you get into them?” the husband asked.

“I’m not that young. I’m 33!” Churchill answered defensively. Then he added more conjovially, “I have an aunt about your age. She got me into all this 70s and 80s punk and alternative rock.”

Then they started talking about their favorite bands and albums from that scene. The conversation could have easily gone on for an hour or two, with each talking about what they liked about the album and band the other mentioned.

But eventually, the lights went out and the band members walked on the stage and grabbed their instruments, followed by the beating of the drums with Fred Schneider yelling “Surprise!” followed by Kate Pierson yelling, “Party!”

And the crowd went crazy with “Party Out of Bounds” starting up with the crowd pushing themselves forward, pressing Churchill, the older couple, Jen, and anyone else up front into the railing. The muscular bouncers keeping a wary eye if anyone went or fell over the railing.

The B-52’s closed their set with the shout of “Pump it up! Pump it up! Pump it up!” followed by a small bit of music closing the song.

The couple turned to Churchill. “That was incredible!” cried the husband excitedly. “What do you think they’ll do for the encore?”

And they discussed what songs haven’t been and would probably be in the encore, a bouncer came up to the couple and spoke between the ears of the couple. Their eyes grew large and the woman was shivering with excitement.

The woman turned to Churchill and clutched his arm tightly. “Kate saw us and recognized us from Chicago shows throughout the years and invited us backstage!”

“Fuck yeah!” answered Churchill showing the influence the Midwest had on him. “What are you waiting for?! Go! Go! Go!”

The couple followed the bouncer with the woman waving Churchill bye.

Jen watched the bouncer head toward them but saw that she was looking at the couple - and their son? - standing next to them. After a moment or two they walked away with the bouncer leaving the younger guy behind.

As she moved closer to the center, she saw the younger man was moving in closer too. And that’s when she finally got a look at him.

She stopped suddenly. Her breath held in her chest. Her body becoming flush.

Nthabiseng saw what was happening and recognized the pattern.

She grabbed her shoulders gently but firmly from behind and spoke to her ear. “Ausi, what is it? Are you okay?”

Jen quickly turned around. “That’s Churchill! What is he doing here?!”

Nthabiseng shrugged her shoulders. Then thinking about it, she asked, “You always told me he introduced you to this music. I guess he wanted to see the B-52’s too.”

Nthabiseng ran her hands over the top of her arms and then grabbed her hands, “Jen! You’ve been going on and on in excitement about this show. You can do this. Just keep your eyes on the show!”

As Churchill moved closer to the center, he saw a cute, black haired woman looking at him. Winston suddenly recognized her. Apparently she did too, but she seemed to stop in horror and turned to the darker, older, curvier woman behind her.

Churchill didn’t want any trouble, but he wasn’t going anywhere until the encore was over! So he stood his ground and turned to the stage.

Jen took a few deep breaths, squeezed Nthabiseng’s hands, and turned around and stepped to the rails, but she was trying not hard to look at Churchill.

Churchill saw the woman with the same last name as his high school “mate” come forward. He gave her a friendly Midwestern nod that worked as a silent greeting. But she was looking at the stage and didn’t notice.

After giving it a little thought, Churchill gently tapped her shoulder.

Jen saw Churchill give him a nod, but chose to ignore it. But then she felt the tap on her shoulder.

She tensed up a bit, but forced herself to take a couple of deep breaths and turned to Churchill.

Churchill saw the woman turned towards slow and cautiously,

“Erm, I don’t know if you remember me or not, but I gave you a ride and asked you about a friend of mine.”

Jen took a breath and calmed herself. Then quietly added, “Yes, I remember.”

“Well, I just wanted to apologize. It was obvious I had upset you. I should have stopped right away when you said you didn’t know him.” Then after a pause, “I just wanted to apologize. So… sorry.” Churchill made a cringing face as he said “sorry”.

Jen felt bad for Churchill. He obviously had no idea who she was. And she knew he didn’t mean any trouble on the car ride. He just didn’t know what was going on.

Jen mulled it over for a second or two in mind. Took a deep breath. “Thank you, but it’s really not how you think it is.”

Churchill listened to the woman attentively, but unfortunately just as she was opening up, the band came back out for their encore.She turned to the stage, bouncing a little with excitement. It made him smile. Then he turned to the stage.

Jen couldn’t believe it when she heard the guitar riff of “Give Me Back My Man” start. This song had always been her favorite. She always sang along whenever she heard this song and without thinking about it, she grabbed Churchill’s arm while she jumped up and down in excitement.

Churchill couldn’t believe it when he felt her grab his arm and start squealing. He smiled, but made no note of it. He was afraid if he acknowledged it in any way, she would stop.

Chapter Text

“Too much to think about
Just too much to think about
Just too much to think about
Stokin' and a strokin'
Just too much to think about
Heat up the night
Just too much to think about tonight
Tonight when bodies collide”

This was followed by a loud “Thank you, Chicago!” from Fred Schneider and a “Good night, everybody!” from Kate Pierson just before the lights came on.

Churchill turned the woman standing next to him. “Look… Jen, right?” He knew her name and had it imprinted on his brain, but he didn’t want to sound too forward.

Jen placed her fingers on his lower arm and looked at him. He noticed she had thick fingers for a woman.

“Churchill, it’s fine. You didn’t do anything wrong. It was just me.”

Churchill started fidgeting and looking down, grabbing an elbow with his hand.

Oh shit! Jen suddenly recognized what was going on. She had seen Churchill act this way before back in high school. But she had always seen this as a spectator, never ever as a participant.

This couldn’t be happening! This was crazy!

“No, I get that!” Idiot! What are you saying?! “I mean thank you. I appreciate you saying that. But that’s not what I wanted to ask you?”

Suddenly, there came a laugh to their side. Winston saw the young man he spilled beer on with two friends.

Laughing, the young man saw Winston looking at him. Giggling still, he said, “Look! I don’t mean to be rude, but you realize that’s a dude, right?”

Churchill just stood there blank face, not twitching a muscle.

“Look at his shoulders! His wrists! I mean he did a good job, but…”

Churchill vaguely remembered it. It was more like he was possessing another body and watching everything through its eyes.

As he thought about it later, he would remember seeing himself take a swing at the young man and almost knocking him down. Bumping into his two friends was probably the only thing that kept the young man from falling over.

Then he was being held back by Mark and Jeff.

He looked for Jen, but she was nowhere to be found. He saw her friend running towards an exit.

Churchill shook Mark and Jeff off and walked straight for an exit in the opposite direction of Jen’s friend, ignoring everyone and everything.

Susan gave a sigh as she watched Churchill walk away.

Chapter Text

Nthabiseng kept up with Jen for a good while. She was a big woman, but also a strong woman. And she was mama bear mode. So people were getting knocked left and right as she made sure to stay up with Jen.

She did lose her in the crowd eventually, and had to wander around trying to look over people’s heads.

She was half ready to give up and hunt down the “boy” who caused this. To this older African woman, if someone was around 20, they could be considered a boy or a girl, especially if they acted younger than their age! She would make sure he knew exactly how she felt!

Of course, just at that moment, she found Jen under a tree on a parking lot island with a little grass.. She was sitting, leaning her back on the tree, her head tilted back, eyes closed.

Nthabiseng let out a quiet “Thank you, Lord!” with a glance upwards. Then with a little bit of huffing and puffing, she sat down next to Jen.

After that, she remained quiet. She knew Jen would start talking when she was ready. And there was no reason to push her to.

Jen had her ear buds in. Nthabiseng was sure she was listening to Violent Femmes with the man with the terrible, horribly nasal singing voice.

The song came to an end and Jen hit the stop button. Then closed her eyes and leaned her head back again.

She finally let out a sigh, followed by “Why am I such a foolish idiot?!”

“You are not a foolish idiot! You are a bright and intelligent young woman!”

“Did you see the look on his face?! He was horrified!”

“Ausi, I think he was just surprised. It was a big thing to suddenly know!”

“Oh, well,” she sighed. “I may never bump into him again. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he goes out of his way to avoid me!”

“You don’t know that!”

“Remember how you reacted when I told you?!”

Nthabiseng cringed in embarrassment. She remembered avoiding Jen for a couple of weeks. She ended up going to a whole new church just to come to terms with Jen being trans.

“Let’s just give it some time and see what happens. In the meantime, you can play one of your sad playlists with songs like the one about the proud insect singing under the floor.”

“What?!” Jen asked, totally confused about what Nthabiseng was talking about.

“You know, that one where the insect is singing under the floor and through the cracked walls!”

“Oh my god!” Jen just had to laugh at Nthabiseng’s weird Disney-esque description of the Wire song.

Churchill’s friends leaned against Mark and Susan’s mini-van, waiting for him to come back as the parking lot finally started to thin out a little.

Susan checked her phone again.

Jeff, Tammy, and Joyce discussed whether Susan would really enact her 45 minute rule.

During a previous show they all attended, “Mom” had introduced a new rule when Joyce had taken too long chatting a girl up. Mom had set a new rule where they were leaving one half hour after the final lights for a show turned on. They had tried to get her to go with an hour. She wouldn’t budge, but finally did compromise at 45 minutes.

They finally saw Churchill walking to them. It had been 39 minutes.

When Churchill got closer, Susan showed him the stopwatch she had going on her phone.

“Yes, Mom, I know! I’m here!”

Then Susan's face went from stern to tender. “Listen, Churchill…”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Churchill said flatly, interrupting her.

“Okay,” answered Susan.

“Okay?” Joyce sputtered. “Because he’s embarrassed to like a trans woman?”

“Not now, please, Joyce! Let’s just go home!”

Joyce looked pissed. “She says to the only queer member of this group of cishets!”

Joyce climbed into the minivan and angrily set herself down in a seat in the back. Yelling from the minivan, “I’m not sitting next to the transphobe!”

Susan rubbed her forehead, but did not engage Joyce.

The rest of them climbed into the minivan. Tammy sat next to Joyce and Mark next to Churchill.

On the way home, the rest tried to talk about the concert and make conversation. Churchill remained quiet and said nothing the whole way home. And only spoke up when he got out of the minivan and only to say good-bye.

Chapter Text

Jen heard the knocking on the door, but continued to lay in bed. She had been up for a couple of hours, but hadn’t bothered to get up.

Then she heard the keys and knew Nthabiseng was coming. She reluctantly and slowly pulled herself to a sitting position.

Nthabiseng saw, from the bedroom doorway, Jen sitting on the bed in just her bra and panties with her hair a crazy mess.

She sighed deeply and muttered, “Molimo!” under her breath. “How long have you been awake?!”

Jen responded with some annoyance, “Because I obviously haven’t been up?!”

She and Nthabiseng had had similar conversations before.

Nthabiseng smiled wryly at her response. “Ausi, please! Hop in the shower and I will make some breakfast.”

Jen waved her off. “Yeah. Yeah. I know the drill.”

Nthabiseng headed to the kitchen area. Jen had a combination living room, dining room, and kitchen. She kept her ears to hear if Jen was really getting up and going to the bathroom.

After a very long shower and slowly getting ready, an hour has passed before Jen felt she was presentable and came out of the bedroom.

A plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast with a glass of orange juice waited for her. Another plate of the same across from her. Nthabiseng must have run home, because Jen never had bacon or orange juice at home.

“Everything needed for a healthy breakfast!” Jen said with a slight smile.

“It is a healthy meal!” Nthabiseng responded, not getting the reference. If her two daughters were there, they’d have been laughing their heads off.

“Yes, it is a healthy meal,” Jen answered agreeably, trying to placate her. She sure as hell wasn’t in the mood to explain the reference.

They ate in silence for a while. The only sound being the forks hitting the plates.

“So are we going to talk about last night?” Nthabiseng enquired.

“No,” Jen replied simply, shaking her head.

Nthabiseng nodded with a Basotho-style mmmm.

After a while, Jen finally asked, “What’s there to talk about?!”

“Nothing, if you don’t want to,” Nthabiseng responded.

After another short silence, Jen looked annoyed and said, “I should be used to it. It’s been like four years! And I get a lot less of that than I ever used to get!”

“You’re a very beautiful woman, my child,” was Nthabiseng’s only response.

Jen smiled. She knew Ntabiseng meant it and wasn’t just saying it to be nice. She had no problem telling Jen what she thought she was doing wrong once she learned Jen was trans.

Jen sighed. “But still not beautiful enough, I guess.”

“As I’ve told you before, I was told in Lesotho that I acted too much like a man and not enough like a proper lady!”

Jen had heard her stories, but had trouble believing them, because Nthabiseng was the epitome of being a lady.

Nthabiseng then added, “As you would say, fuck them!”

Jen burst out laughing, spurting out scrambled eggs and orange juice all over the table. Nthabiseng rarely cursed.

At the sight of the mess, Nthabiseng let out a long, deep laugh as she got up to clean the mess.

“Let me help!”

“Sit, child! Eat!”

A natural lull came to the conversation after the laughter died.

Finally Jen added, “It was just different this time. Being called out… like that… there… with him.” Jen wasn’t crying, but a couple of tears filled her eyes and finally rolled down her cheeks.

Nthabiseng ran to her side of the table and gave her a big hug from behind. “I know. Nobody likes to be embarrassed in front of their crush.”

She was always surprised how Ntabiseng could make it seem like a normal thing instead of a trans issue.

Nthabiseng finished cleaning the table and Jen finished eating, so Nthabiseng put their plates in the sink. “Should I do these now or are you actually going to get to them?”

“How bout we do them together?”

Nthabiseng smiled and gave a nod. “I’ll wash, you dry?”

Jen smiled. Nthabiseng thought Jen was awful at cleaning the dishes.

Jen grabbed the towels as Nthabiseng filled the sink with soapy water.

“I really liked him,” Jen said, looking straight out the window.

Nthabiseng gave her a side hug and leaned her head against Jen’s.

“I know,” she replied quietly.

“And I think he liked me?”

“I think so too, sweetie.”

Chapter Text

Churchill came into the bar just as the first act was finishing. He looked around the bar trying to find his friends, but had trouble seeing them.

He finally spotted Mark and Susan, but Jeff, Tammy, and Joyce weren’t with them.

“Hey, sleepy head!” Susan shouted. Churchill texted explaining he had fallen asleep listening to music and was running late.

“Where is the rest of the gang?” asked Churchill.

“Joyce refused to come if you were going to be here,” Susan explained. “So Tammy wasn’t coming. And Mark was wise enough to do what his girlfriend was doing.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Churchill responded as he took off his coat and put it on the back of his chair. “She won't be happy until I date her, will she?”

Susan answered, “Well, you know, she kind of has a point!”

“Oh, fuck! Not you too!”

“Just listen, Churchill.”

“I’m not gay!”

“And she’s not a guy,” Susan stated flatly.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do, but…. Joyce has a point. Like she said, if we really believe trans women are women…”

“Well, if you and Mark weren’t together, would you date a trans?!”

“I won’t lie, Churchill. I’m not sure. I would like to think I would, but….”

“Well, then why should I?”

“Because if we really believe trans women are women and trans men are men, then…”

Churchill was quiet, staring at the table. Moving his index finger over it absentmindedly.

Churchill looked up. “I guess I get what you’re saying… But I’m just not comfortable dating someone who used to be a fella. And I guess if that makes me a transphobe, then I’m a transphobe.”

The three remain silent for a while.

“I’m getting a drink,” as he got up and walked to the bar.

Susan gave a sigh and Mark gave her a side hug and leaned his head against her. “I know, babe. But he has a point. I’m not sure I would be comfortable dating a trans.”

“Yeah, me either.”

Churchill looked determined when he came back and sat down with his British beer.

“You know, It’s not just the trans thing that bothers me!”

Both Susan and Mark lifted their eyebrows quizzically. “Okay?” Susan responded.

“Yeah!” Churchill answered, gaining more confidence.

“She lied to me. She could have told me the truth. I would have understood. I was her best friend in high school!”

Mark and Susan didn’t say anything taking in what Churchill said.

Susan put her hands flatly, palms and fingers touching each other. And she gave what Churchill said some thought, she lightly bounced her index fingers off the tip of her nose.

Then she intertwined her fingers and rested her chin on her hands.

“Okay, so if she had been honest from the beginning, what would you have done instead?”

Churchill was caught a little off guard by her question.

“I don’t know. Be her friend again, I guess?”

“Well, maybe she had a good reason for not telling you?”

“Yeah? LIke what?”

“Well, I don’t mean to be mean… but look at your behavior since you found out.”

Churchill wanted to fight and argue, but he knew Susan had the upper hand here. His behavior wasn’t supportive.

Churchill stared at his beer for a while, his finger slowly circling around the top of the glass.

Churchill finally looked up at Susan. “So what do you suggest I do? Date her even though I don’t want to?”

Susan tapped her nose again with her praying hands.

Finally she said, “Well, you two used to be friends, right?”

“Yeah! Best friends!”

“Any reason you two couldn’t be friends again?”

“Hmmm. Perhaps.” He seemed to be pondering the idea.

“From what I hear, some trans can use a friend.”

Churchill answered slowly. “Yeah, it seems so.”

Then after tapping his beer glass lightly with his index finger, he remembered something.

“But I don’t have any way of contacting her!”

“Let me try looking her up! Maybe I’ll see something you missed. You looked too, Mark! What’s her name again?”

“Jen Reynolds. She would be about 33 like me. Not sure where she went to high school after we got kicked out of Roosevelt.”

Mark and Susan smiled, remembering the story Churchill had told them about how he got Jen and him expelled.

Susan pulled up a Facebook profile. She held it up for Churchill. “Is this her?”

“Yeah! I was sure she wasn’t on Facebook!”

Susan looked at the profile. “Looks like she joined recently.” She also noticed that she only had ten friends listed, one being the woman she was with at the concert.

“Okay, friend request sent,” said Churchill suddenly, tapping his phone.

Just then a guitar wail started, joined by drumming, before North of Grand went into their song, Lampshade Parade.

Churchill drank down the rest of his beer and headed for the stage.

“Setbacks are scheduled for tomorrow
But it’s getting better every day
No lampshade parades in this house
We’ve thrown all the lightbulbs away

“Under setting sun
No time to think
About what went wrong

What’s done is done
When vinyl vindication plays ‘til dawn”

Chapter Text

Jen laid in bed with the lights out ready for bed. But like so many people, she looked at her phone before going to bed.

She opened her Facebook app. There really wasn’t much for her to check out. She didn’t have that many friends on it. She had Nthabiseng of course, a couple of people from her trans support group, and Steve from her work. And she hadn’t joined any FB groups except her trans support group.

She checked her notifications and was shocked to see one. Churchill Hamilton asked to be a FB friend.

She stared at it blankly for a while. Different emotions running through her, confusion, excitement, fear, euphoria, dread, among others.

Finally, with a little bit of hesitation, she hit the accept button.

Then she turned off her Facebook app and tried to sleep. It took her a while as different thoughts and scenarios from very sad and disappointing to pleasant and exciting ran through her head.

Churchill woke up. He quickly showered and dressed. He needed some money and was going to get an early start driving people for Uber.

But as he sat down and had a bowl of cereal. As he ate his breakfast, he took a chance to look at his phone.

He turned on his Facebook app. Churchill had over 500 friends on Facebook. He didn’t really know a lot of them. They were just friends of friends or people from Facebook groups he was on, a number of those groups being related to punk or politics.

He ran through his notifications. A couple of political cartoons and memes he posted in different groups were getting some likes. His mom, or “Mum” as he called her, hearted a personal post he put up the day before.

Then he saw it. Jen had accepted his friend request. It made him smile and feel warm. He didn’t want to understand why it made him feel the way it did.

He thought of sending a FB message to her, but couldn’t really think of anything to say. Everything he thought of - a comment on the Des Moines punk scene, a question about trans people, writing about what he was up to today, among others - seemed like a strange and weird way to start a conversation with her.

He flipped his phone over and finished his bowl of cereal while a vinyl version of Ultravox’s second album played in the background. “Distant Smile” was going through its long, slow buildup, the piano had slowly trudged along and it is now into the part with a guitar strum over a synth sound.

Just as he put his bowl in his sink, the wailing guitar started as the song hit the hard driving part.

As he grabbed his coat and took the keys out of the bowl near the door, the album reached the end of side one and turned itself off.

As Churchill took his first rider to the airport, he pondered some way he could start a conversation. After he dropped off the person, he finally just settled for the good, old American standby, “Hey!”

There was a big issue with a number of computers at work not connecting to the system that connected them to the main system most worked on. It kept her, Mitra, and the others in the IT department all morning to get it sorted.

Afterwards she took a short break to clear her head. She, of course, got out her phone and checked the Facebook app. She saw that someone wrote to her on Messenger. She took a deep breath knowing it couldn’t be Churchill.

Then she saw his “Hey!” It brought a smile to her lips. She sent him a “Hey!” back and tried to forget about it. He was just being polite and saying hello. He’s British after all!

Jen had checked over lunch, but there was no message for her. She decided “Hey!” was probably all Churchill was going to say to her. She had misled him until he was humiliated at the concert. She was lucky to get a “Hey!”

Churchill saw a message pop up on his phone that someone had written to him on Facebook Messenger, but he just started a trip to a nearby college town, Grinnell, which was a 45 minute drive. And he was going to Grinnell to pick up a regular and take them to Des Moines, so he didn’t have any time to check it until early afternoon.

He saw it was just a simple “Hey!” back. He smiled thinking about American Midwesterners. A funny lot sometimes.

He thought again about what to say. He was going to put a bit of a joke talking about how things have changed since they were kids, but decided he had probably better not.

After some thought, he finally just put, “I just got done with a 90 minute round trip to Grinnell to pick up a regular and take her to Des Moines. What have you been doing today?”

Jen was still doing a bunch of clean up work due to the morning issue. It kept her busy until late afternoon.

Mitra was chatting with her a bit while they worked, telling her about a little incident he and his wife got into. It was probably funny. Mitra was good at telling humorous stories of things he and his wife found themselves in. She was a music professor and not as analytic as Steve. But Jen was only paying enough attention to reply.

It was about 4 when she finally took a break. Mainly, because Mitra told her to, because she couldn’t figure out something and he insisted she walk away for 15 minutes.

She saw Churchill’s message. She was embarrassed at how excited it made her feel.

She replied, “Fixing some stupid bug that caused a bunch of trouble in our system. It was fricking annoying!” Then she added an angry face emoji.

Churchill had some short trips, so he saw her message about 15 minutes after she sent it.

“You know you can say ‘fucking' with me. I’m a working class Brit! And you had no problem using the word around me when we were kids!”

Chapter Text

Mitra saw Jen checking her phone and laughing, This caught him by surprise. He had seen her smile at something on her phone, but not laugh. It must have shown on his expression, because she looked at him quizzically. He waved his hand and shook his head. Then he was even more surprised when she saw her face redden up.

Churchill chuckled when he saw her response, “You’re embarrassing me in front of my coworkers. I laughed too hard at that!”

“Not my fault, princess! Are you not allowed to laugh at work?!”

Jen was sure she blushed visibly when he saw the word “princess”. She flipped her phone upside down and got back to work. There was still plenty to clean up. And she was getting embarrassed by the way Mitra was looking at her.

“So… who is that on the phone?” Steve tried to ask casually.

“Uh… nobody. Just an old friend I bumped into recently.

“Oh? From before the…?” Steve did not know how to put it, so he just kind of waved his hand in her general direction.

“Uh, yes. I knew him in school.”

Mitra’s eyebrows went up. He had never ever heard talk about anyone from before her transition.

“What?” enquired Jen.

Mitra shook his head slightly. “No, nothing.”

Jen’s face turned bright red again. “He’s just an old friend!”

Mitra put his hands up in a placating manner. “I didn’t say anything!”

After a pause where it was just the sound of them clicking on their keyboards, Jen said quietly, “Okay, good.”

Mitra shook his head slightly and let out a small chuckle, but stayed quiet and continued working.

Jen decided it was better to not engage him further, but in her mind she was thinking in an annoyed tone that Churchill was just a friend!

Churchill was waiting in his car for a regular to come back after going to the pharmacy to get some prescriptions.

He laughed when he saw that she had laughed at work and was embarrassed. He was still smiling after replying when his regular hopped into the front seat next to him.

“Well, something has you smiling, young man!” commented the elderly woman.

“Just texting with a friend, Dorothy. Ready to head home?”

“Yes, I am! But the way they have you smiling, I’m thinking they’re more than just a friend.”

“Just a bird I knew back in school.”

Dorothy raised her eyebrows and smiled widely. “Oh, a girl you say?”

“No, no,” answered Churchill a little too quickly. “It’s not like that! We’re just mates!” Then quickly added, “Mates in the British sense! You know, just friends!”

“No offense, Winston,” She refused to use his nickname, Churchill, “but you seem quite flustered for someone just talking to a friend.”

“Dorothy, you are reading way too much into this!”

“Am I?”

“Yes!” Churchill insisted.

“It’s okay if you have a special female friend, you know!”

“Dorothy! She’s not that special. We were just friends back in school.”

“Oh my!” Dorothy responded. “A female friend from your past?”

“Let me get you home. You are making too much of this!”

Churchill was feeling annoyed and irritated. Jen was just a friend. And this woman was trying to make it sound like something more!

Chapter Text

Churchill checked his phone regularly between rides and was disappointed to see no reply. Maybe he had gone too far calling her “princess”. He didn’t mean anything by it. He was just being British.

He thought of texting her and explaining. He had done things like that in the past until Susan had explained how it usually just made things worse. So he sighed, put his “High School Favorites” playlist on shuffle - his taste hadn’t really changed much since then - and went to pick up his next ride. Much to his pleasure, it started with The Clash’s ‘Tommy Gun”.

That playlist was actually the one he was playing before he had picked up Jen.

Jen was working late fixing things at work. Around 8, her boss, Amanda, came in and said, “Guys! Go home and get some rest! We can finish things tomorrow. They’re not essential and we’ve put in a lot of work today! Now git!”

Jen and Mitra both got up and did some stretching. Jen looked at her phone. There was a text from Nthabiseng inviting her to have dinner with her and the girls, followed by another one saying, “I guess you’re working late. Feel free to come and vent afterwards if you’re not too tired, ausi!”

She smiled at the use of “ausi”, the Sesotho word for “miss” or “madam” for younger women. It apparently actually meant “sister”. She always thought that was pretty cool!

Mitra texted his wife that he was finally heading home. When he looked up, he saw Jen’s smile.

He tried to casually ask, “So you hear from your friend?”

Jen rolled her eyes a little bit. “No,” she worked at answering nicely, “That was just Nthabiseng invited to supper and realizing I couldn’t come.”

Jen had talked to Mitra about Nthabiseng numerous times before and he actually met her a couple of times. Mitra probably knew Ntabiseng pretty well the way Jen always talked about her. Then Jen knew quite a bit about Mitra’s wife.

“Oh” replied Mitra. “Sorry you had to miss that!”

“It’s okay,” Jen answered with a smile. “I’ll just get another invite in a week’s time.” Then after a pause, “Maybe even sooner!”

They both smiled at her comment. Mitra added, “I told you, we people from ‘the rest of the world’-” Mitra did finger quotes - “are a very caring and friendly bunch!”

“Definitely, if you and Nthabiseng are any indication!”

Suddenly they heard Amanda behind them. “You guys would find some more politically correct ways to say those things. Sooner or later, I’ll have to report you two to HR. Now I said git, so git god damn it!”

Jen put her head down like a caught student and Mitra put his hands up in a placating manner. Both said sorry at the same time.

“See you tomorrow!” added Jen as she put on her coat, waved, and left the IT room.

“Bye!” added Mitra as he rushed out to get back home.

“Bye! Now go so I can leave!” answered Amanda.

After Mitra walked her to her car in the dark, empty lot - he had insisted - Jen got in her car and looked at her phone again. She answered Nthabiseng, telling her she was too tired to visit and would catch them next time.

Then she looked at Churchill’s text. She smiled once again when she saw the word “princess”. She knew Churchill was just being what she and Churchill called in high school “British nice”. Named, of course, after the term “Midwest nice”. But her face still got red when she looked at it.

She waved her phone slightly like a fan, thinking about what to say.

“Yes, I am allowed to laugh at work and do so occasionally.” Jen realized Mitra might argue that point, but Churchill didn’t need to know.

“And I don’t curse now, because I’m a prim and proper lady!” Then Jen had to smile as she realized Nthabiseng might argue that point!

“Anyway, sorry I didn’t answer sooner. It was, since you asked for it, a FUCKING long day!”

She paused a moment before sending, thinking about removing the “fuck” or at least, the caps. Then she thought with a laugh, “Fuck it!”, and hit send.

Then she put her car in gear and left the empty parking lot.

As always, Churchill put on an album when he got home. He flipped over Ultravox’s “Ha! Ha! Ha!” that he was playing this morning, cleaned the record, and then started playing it. He was still pissed how Midge Ure had ruined the band!

He smiled as the guitars started in. He loved this album!

He opened the fridge, pulled out one of his frozen supper in a bowl, and put it on for 8 minutes. The instructions said something like 5 or 6, but his used microwave didn’t work that well. It also made some weird, god awful noise a microwave should never make.

And as the supper was heating up, Churchill plopped onto his bed, kicking his feet up with shoes and all and laying on top of a comforter Susan bought for him. It showed the side of a bunch of handmade cassettes covers with various 70s and 80s punk and alternative albums written on them.

He looked at his phone. A couple of people had texted him. Susan invited him over Sunday to hang out with the family. But he didn’t see the message he was looking for and frowned a little.

He went to Facebook to do some scrolling before supper.

Churchill woke up a couple of hours later. He had managed to pull the comforter over himself in his sleep and he was still wearing all his clothes, including his shoes.

The microwave must have given up dinging, but his meal was still in it, although now it was cold. He put it on for 4 minutes. He knew exactly how long it took to warm it back up. He had done this more than once.

He turned side two of “Ha! Ha! Ha!” back on since he slept through most of it anyway.

He dropped down back on his bed again. He didn’t have any chairs or anywhere to sit in his studio apartment.

He heard a meow at the door. He got up, opened the door, and said, “Coming for a visit, are you, Mistie?”

A dirty, shaggy, big white cat looked up and meowed at Churchill as if saying, “Where have you been?!” Churchill had no idea whose cat it was, if anyone’s. It didn’t have a collar and looked rather raggedy. More than once, he cut a bunch of mats out of its hair.

The cat came in and rubbed up against Churchill’s legs. The cat seemed to hate and hiss at most people who tried to grab it and take it in. But for some reason, the cat loved Churchill. Everyone assumed it was his cat. But it was just the occasional visitor.

Winston closed the door.. The cat would meow when he was ready to “rejoin the wild”, as Churchill put it. There were some cold days where Mistie would spend the night and then meowed to be let out in the morning.

The microwave started dinging. And Churchill went to get his meal. The cat followed him.

He pulled the bowl out of the microwave and put it on the counter. Misty sat and watched him carefully. He got some Hy-Vee shredded cheese out of his fridge. Misty began meowing in a very pleading manner.

Churchill dropped a few pieces of cheese in front of Mistie. He had been told that cats were lactose intolerant and he shouldn’t give them cheese. But Churchill was sure the cat ate much worse out of garbage cans!

Churchill put on an unhealthy amount of cheese on his meal and mixed it up with a spoon, before taking the food and spoon and sitting on the bed with its covers totally in disarray.

The cat hopped on the bed and laid down next to Churchill’s leg purring quietly.

As he ate the mix of meat, vegetables, and cheese, he pulled out his phone again. He smiled when he saw Jen’s Facebook message.

He laughed at the part where she said she was a prim and proper lady. Then he let a large, loud laugh the neighbors probably heard when she saw she had “a FUCKING long day’!

Misty got upset when it was disturbed from its slumber. But went back to sleep, after Churchill gave it a head scratching.

“I know how that goes,” he replied. “My day was long too. Started really early in the morning and had a couple of out-of-town rides. I fell asleep totally dressed and with my shoes on!” Then after a pause, he added, “Feel free to text me at my number. That actually works better for me!” Then he gave her his number.

Nthabiseng had left the supper in her fridge with a note on how long to microwave it. Jen smiled broadly. That woman took good care of her. As well as she did her own daughters.

Jen was sitting down eating. She was listening to her electronic music playlist that was playing. It was playing a song of a German electronic artist, Eberhard Schoener, who had The Police playing on it.

He had her phone with her as well. It gave a ding of notification. She smiled when she saw it was Churchill.

She laughed when she read about him falling asleep totally dressed. She had woken up a few times in the middle of the night still on her couch, sometimes still in a sitting position with a sore neck.

She hated how excited she was when she saw his number. She took a couple of deep breaths before texting him.

Chapter Text

Jen sat at her table, waving the phone in her hand, as she thought about what to send as a text.

She knew it shouldn’t be this hard. She was just continuing the conversation they started on Facebook Messenger. But for some reason, she felt like she just couldn’t continue yakking like nothing had happened.

As Churchill ate his dinner and scratched Misty. But he started to get nervous when he didn’t get any text - or Facebook message - from Jen.

Did he go too far? They were chatting away. It seemed to make sense to switch over to text. But maybe she felt it was too much too soon?

Maybe she got busy and would text later. He set his phone face down.

Jen couldn’t decide, so she just sent a wave emoji followed by, “Hey, it’s me, Jen!” After she hit send, she thought. “Duh! Who else would it be?!”

Churchill heard his phone buzz and without realizing, quickly picked it up to check the text.

He smiled when he saw the wave emoji. He thought that was just the kind of dorky thing that Jack would have done. Churchill decided that he - then correcting himself - she had obviously not changed that much in some ways.

“Hey again!” he texted. Then his mind went blank. He couldn’t even remember what they had been talking about on Facebook. With nothing else to say, he wrote, “So you still a big Violent Femmes fan? And that country band, Cracker?”

Jen rolled her eyes. Cracker was influenced by country along with punk and other genres. They were and would never get on the country charts. She knew Churchill was just trying to rile her up. She knew, at least back in high school, that he even liked some of their more harder, more alternative rock songs.

“Yes!” she responded. “And you can’t make me change my mind! ‘Teen Angst” is one of the greatest songs ever!”

Churchill raised his eyebrows as he read her text and gave a wry smile. He could not understand what she thought was so awesome about Cracker.

“Look! That line about the world needing true words of wisdom like la, la, la, la, la is quite good. Even better than that line about how it doesn’t rhyme with anything.”

Then he added, “But there are a lot of better songs! Most by The Clash! Or The Ramones! Most of ‘Never Mind the Bollocks’! ‘Neat Neat Neat’! ‘Suspect Device’! ‘Holiday in Cambodia’! “Mongoloid’! Oh, and of course, one of your favorites, ’Hurry Up, Hairy Camel’!”

Jen shook her head. Churchill’s favorite bands were still obviously The Clash and The Ramones! She liked all the songs Churchill listed, but she found his taste too narrow. It was pretty much punk, or at least alternative rock, or nothing!

And, of course, even after all these years, he could not let go of her mishearing of Sham 69’s lyrics!

“You just had to bring that up again, didn’t you?”

Churchill laughed when he saw her response!

“I still like your lyrics for ‘This Monday’s Going to Happen’ better than The Pixies! ‘If the man is fire, then the devil exists. And if the devil exists, then God is Satan!’ That is some deep, dark fucking shit!”

Jen just leaned her head down and shook it. Churchill would not let up.

“Can we change the subject please!”

Then she added, “Actually, I’m pretty tired. I just want to watch an episode or two of my new show and go to bed.”

Churchill felt a twinge of guilt. He hoped he hadn’t offended her too much. He knew he could get carried away and had upset people in the past.

“What are you watching?”

She felt some relief when he changed the subject.

“Doom Patrol! Based on the comic book group!”

Churchill thought for a second. “Is that the weird group with the robot bloke and that gal with all the personalities!” Churchill wasn’t a big comic book fan, but he had read quite a few of Jen’s graphic novels as a teenager.

“That’s the one! And it’s really good!”

“I’ll have to see if the library has it on DVD!”

“You should! But I'm really done after my day! I’ll talk to you tomorrow!”

“I’ll let you rest. You didn’t get a nap like me! Bye, love!”

Jen blushed when she saw the word “love” even though she knew Churchill was just using it as a “Britishism”.

She texted, “Bye!” along with a wave emoji.

Churchill sent back a wave emoji.

Then just sat on his bed a while with the cold, empty bowl sitting on his lap.

Chapter Text

Churchill stretched as he heard a loud klaxon alarm going off on his phone, which was on the kitchen counter, as far from his bed as he could put it.

Mistie, annoyed, crawled off the bed, walked to the door, and meowed extremely loudly to be let out. It hated that alarm.

Churchill slowly pulled himself out of his bed and walked over to the counter to turn off his alarm. It took a little fumbling, but he got it turned off. Then he headed to the door and let Mistie out. Once Mistie was outside, it turned around and gave a friendly meow before it headed off.

“No problem, bud! See you later!” He gave a small, tired wave to the cat.

Soon as Jen’s phone started beeping, she grabbed it and turned it off. She gave a quick look at the texts and didn’t admit to herself she was disappointed to see no new messages. She headed to the bathroom to get ready for work.

Churchill stood at his record collection for a while trying to decide which album he wanted to listen to this morning. He went with The Ramones’ “Rocket to Russia”.

Then he groggily opened his kitchen cabinet and looked at his row of breakfast cereal, deciding which one he wanted this morning. He decided on Captain Crunch Berry.

He sat down with his bowl of cereal on his unmade bed. His sheet had a stain from milk spilling out of his bowl yesterday. The apartment had no chair or table.

As he ate, he checked his phone. He ignored the fact that he checked his text messages before hopping on Facebook.

He sent a wave emoji to Jen before going to Facebook. On Facebook, he got a reminder that his friend’s band, The Hollowmen, was playing that night. The Gang of Six were going to the show.

Jen hopped out of the shower. Her bathroom was spotless with everything in its proper place.

She usually didn’t even bring her phone in her bathroom, but she had today and glanced at it. She saw Churchill had sent her a wave emoji. She didn’t realize that she looked annoyed for a second. She sent him a wave back and continued to get ready.

Churchill quickly got out of his scum stained shower with a shower curtain that was full of yellowish brown scum on the bottom. He stood on his bath matt that he hadn’t changed for 3 or 4 years,

As he dried himself off with a towel he hadn’t replaced for 4 weeks, he glanced at this phone. He saw that Jen had sent a wave back and smiled.

Then it hit him. He should ask Jen to join him and his friends. She knew his friend in the band, Mike. Mike had gone to school with them.

Then he heard Susan in his mind saying, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

He thought about it for a while. Jen might not want to see anyone from the old days. But he decided she could just say no if she wasn’t interested.

Jen was in front of her closet, picking out her clothes for the day. Usually she picked them out the night before, but she was exhausted and skipped that step of her nightly routine. She heard two dings informing her of incoming texts.

She grabbed a dress and went to her dresser for clean underwear and some matching pantyhose. As she was putting them on, she gave a quick look at the phone.

One was a text from Mitra asking her if she survived from yesterday and was ready for today.

The other text was from Churchill. He was asking if she wanted to join him and his friends seeing a band.

She sat at her bed that she had made right after she got up, She just stared at her phone sitting in only her pantyhose.

As usual, Churchill was running late. He had a regular pick up that morning. He jumped into a clean pair of jeans and threw a t-shirt and then a sweater on. Then he grabbed his wallet and keys running to the door.

After he opened the door, he stopped suddenly. He ran and grabbed his phone. He looked and saw that Jen hadn’t replied yet, Then he ran out the door.

He hadn’t realized that he hadn’t told Jen that an old friend of theirs was playing at the show.

Jen really didn’t go out much. She was very much a homebody, She was rolling it over in her mind if she should go. She really wasn’t comfortable with meeting new people. Her mind couldn’t help but wonder how accepting of trans his friends were.

She was set to tell Churchill she couldn’t make it. But then she imagined the things Nthabiseng would say when she learned she didn’t go,

“God damn it, Nthabiseng!”

She responded with a sure and asked for details.

When Churchill arrived to pick up his regular passenger, he noticed that she wasn’t there yet. He took a quick glance at his phone. He knew she would show up shortly. She was quite punctual.

“What’s that big smile for?” asked Dorothy as she hopped in next to him. “Is it from that one girl?!”

Churchill shook his head and just said, “Good morning, Dorothy!”

Chapter Text

Churchill spent the morning helping Dorothy as she went shopping. She always gave him a huge tip for helping, but Churchill would have helped her if she only paid for the miles.

They both actually enjoyed their time together and conversation flowed easily between them. They knew all about each other’s families and friends.

That is except for a girl who had been texting Churchill today and yesterday. Dorothy had put in a couple of polite enquiries.

She asked how he knew her. Churchill just said “school” again and didn’t elaborate. She asked about his weekend plans, but he just talked about going out with friends to a show. But she knew that he knew what she was doing, because he had a wry little smile both times he answered. She let it drop.

They spent the rest of the morning talking about other things like Dorothy’s health. the health of Churchill’s mother who beat cancer a few years back, Churchill’s regular canine visitor, a man who had been pursuing Dorothy, but she wasn’t interested in him. She found him dull and boring as hell.

Jen didn’t know it, but she wore a slight smile since Churchill asked her to the show.

But on the car ride to work, she started wondering why Churchill invited her. Was he just being British and friendly? Did he want to introduce her to his friends? If so, why did he want to introduce her to his friends? Did he perhaps, maybe want to be something more than friends?

If he did want to just be friends, what was the reason for inviting her to hang with his friends? He had mentioned Mike being in the band. She guessed that could just be the reason why. But was he okay with Mike seeing them together, even just as friends?

Jen jumped a little bit when her Uber driver told her that they had arrived.

As Jen walked into the IT department, Amanda and Mitra could both see how occupied her mind was. She was looking straight ahead with an emotionless face, but she didn’t really seem to be looking at anything.

Amanda tapped her shoulder, “Sorry, to take you out of your revelry, but we still have a few things to clean up from yesterday’s disaster. I’ve assigned them to you and Mitra, so the rest of the staff can work on the new stuff coming in.”

Jen jumped again when Amanda tapped her, but added, “What? Oh yes, that’s fine.”

Amanda added, “I’m sure you two can have it squared away by lunch time!” Then without any farewell or anything, she headed off to deal with the rest of the staff.

Mitra looked at Jen. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just had something on my mind. Let’s get started.”

Jen and Mitra had finished most of the stuff they had been assigned, but took a break at ten to clear her head.

As she went to get a Cherry Coke Zero Sugar, she looked at her phone. Churchill had replied to her request for details. Nthabiseng let her know that Rose had gotten an A and 97% on her math test. That kid was destined to be a scientist or something.

Jen wondered if Churchill had forgotten that he had asked her to join him. It had seemed a spur of the moment type of thing.

Jen got some Peanut M&M’s even though she wasn’t really hungry.

At lunch, there had still been no reply for Churchill. Jen had decided that Churchill had forgotten and wasn’t going to worry about it. She spent lunch reading a Star Trek book she had brought with her. It was about Garak from Deep Space 9 and written by the actor who had played him.

It was almost 1:30 by the time Churchill got Dorothy home and had helped get her things in the house and put them where she wanted them. She gave him a $50 tip and apologized that she couldn’t afford to give him more.

Churchill went to Tasty Tacos for lunch. As he sat down and ate, he saw that he hadn’t responded to Jen’s text for details.

“Hey, I haven’t forgotten about you. Just had a busy morning!” he replied.

“How about I pick you from work and we can go to Felix and Oscar’s like old times and have a Chicago pizza! Though I don’t think we can finish it like we did as kids!

“Then we chat in person instead of over text. And we can go to the show after eating? And I won’t even charge you for the rides!” He added a big smile emoji at the end.

He also replied to a text from Susan making sure he was coming.

“Yeah, I’m coming. And I’m bringing my friend, Jen!”

Susan sent a question mark.

“She knows Mike in The Hollowmen. I thought she might enjoy it.”

All we got from Susan was, “Oh okay. See you there.”

Since Jen hadn’t heard from Churchill at lunch, she worked straight through her afternoon break to help the department catch up on the stuff they had fallen behind on yesterday while they were fixing the mess.

Amanda came out of her office at 3;30, an hour before their scheduled end of the day.

“Okay, everybody, listen up! We did a good job getting everything caught up! After staying so late last night, I feel quite comfortable letting you all go early. We see you all on Monday!”

Mitra asked, “Hey, you want to come over and eat supper with Jing, the kids, and me?”

Jen replied, “Well, I’m supposed to do something with a friend, but he hasn’t texted anything about it since this morning.”

Mitra raised an eyebrow at the use of “he”.

Jen looked at her phone to see if Churchill had responded.

“Oh, I guess he did reply.” She was annoyed that he had waited until 1:30 to reply though. Would have been nice to know earlier!

“So you’re going?” Mitra looked at her with his eyebrows up.

“Yeah, I think I will, but thanks so much for the offer!”

“Oh, more than happy to invite you! You know Jing and the kids love you!” Then Mitra gave a farewell wave as he quickly headed for the door as if he was afraid Amanda would change her mind!

Jen started texting. “Hey, I’m actually off now if you want to run here and pick me up!”

Winston had finished his last ride a little after 3:15. He didn’t want to pick up another ride in case he ran late picking up Jen. So he was actually parked and scrolling through Facebook when her text came through.

He replied, “Well, shit! I could have already been on my way. I finished the day about 10, 15 minutes ago! I’m on my way now!”

Chapter Text

CHANGE: Have Churchill give Jen the first playlist.

It was windy and chilly outside, so Jen had told Churchill to text her when he got there.

She was engrossed in reading “The Saga of the Swamp Thing” series on her phone. It was better to read comics on the tablet, but she had already read this series a few times!

She thought she would have more time, but Churchill’s text came up a lot sooner than she expected. The idiot must have been speeding like a mad man the whole way.

As she was heading out the door, Churchill was standing there. He was a red and black flannel shirt, the only thing he said he liked about Midwest fashion! He had on faded jeans, that while not too worn, probably should have been replaced. Finishing it were black training shoes.

Gary Numan’s “Down in the Park” came out of his car. Jen gave a small headshake. Churchill thought most electronic music was “crap”, but for some reason, he had a soft for Numan’s “Replica”, “Pleasure Principle”, and “Telekon” albums!

He held the passenger door for her. He lifted and twirled a fake cap with flourish followed by a “Madam!”

Jen chuckled. “Thank you kindly, good sir!”

When Churchill saw her message, he rushed and started the car. There was no reason to. Jen would have waited. But Churchill, for a reason he didn’t want to admit, felt an urgency.

And when he arrived at Verne Deadwood, without thinking about it, opened the door for Jen. He rarely opened the door for riders unless they had an issue getting in like Dorothy.

He also had Gary Numan’s “Down in the Park” playing. He wasn’t a big fan of electronic music, but he remembered that Jen was and he liked some of Gary Numan’s stuff.

As Churchill sat down, he took a glance at Jen. It was only business casual. They obviously had Casual Fridays.

But she still looked very dressed up. She wore a navy blue button up blouse with matching black necklace and earrings with eight-sided shapes like two pyramids that their bottoms glued together. The only thing that made it casual was a knee length jean pencil skirt with some warm black stalkings and some black, but sensible fancy flats.

“I hope I didn’t take too long!”

“No. I was rereading “Saga of the Swamp Thing”!” She smiled at him. Churchill never bought any, but read a lot of her graphic novels in high school.

Churchill started the car. Jen flinched a little thinking about how fast he got there. But he drove at a reasonable speed now.

“Oh, man! I would love to read that again! I’ll have to see if the library has it!”

Jen raised her eyebrows. “You think they have graphic novels?”

Churchill gave a wide grin. “I know they do! I didn’t have my old supplier, so I had to find a new one!”

Jen gave a light chuckle. “You’re still reading graphic novels!”

“I am! Not as much as I did when we were kids. But I find a few of interest at the library.”

“Wow! I figured you probably gave them up!”

“Oh no! And I’ve done my best to keep up with superhero movies and other movies based on graphic novels.”

“Really?!”

“Yes really!”

“What did you think of ‘Infinity War’ vs ‘End Game’?”

“‘End Game’ was a big disappointment after “Infinty War’! The story kept zig-zaggy everywhere and it went on too long. Needed a good editor! But that scene between Thanos and Tony!”

Churchill spoke deep like Thanos, “I am inevitable!” Then switching his voice to match Tony Stark. “And…” Deep breath. “I…” Deep breath. “Am Iron Man!”

And then Churchill followed that back to his English accent with ”God, that was brilliant!”

When Jen heard Churchill used “brilliant”, she fell into a laughing fit. So hard she started coughing.

Churchill seemed a bit annoyed. Then concerned. “Are you all right?”

After a few deep breaths, Jen answered, “Yeah. I’ll be okay! I’ve just missed talking to you!”

They sat in silence for a while. Social Distortion’s “Ball and Chain”, was currently on the playlist.

“Oh god! I never told where we’re going!” Churchill pulled into the restaurant!

“Oh shit! Tasty Tacos!”

“Just like old times!”

“Except my stomach can’t handle tacos in super spicy hot sauce!”

Churchill chuckled, “Getting older sucks, doesn’t it?!”

Ch 18.5: The Sound of the Termite Mound (This will be a separate chapter in the next draft!)

Termite Mound - The Gadgets
Age of Blows - Spandau Ballet
Six Months on a Leaky Boat - Split Enz
Lucky Number - Lene Lovich
Behind the Wall of Sleep - Smithereens
Pop Muzik - M
The Safety Dance - Men Without Hats
I Know What Boys Like - The Waitresses
Sex Dwarf - Soft Cell
Moon over Moscow - Visage
Zoolookologie - Jean-Michel Jarre
Zoolook - Jean-Michel Jarre
The Photographer: Act 1, A Gentleman's Honor - Philip Glass
Feed the Tree - Belly
Rock This Town - Stray Cats
One Thing Leads to Another - The Fixx
Venus - Bananarama
Destination Unknown - Missing Persons
Echo Beach - Martha & the Muffins
I Was Dancing in a Lesbian Bar - Jonathan Richman
Tenderness - General Public
Good Girls Don't - The Knack
King's Lead Hat - Brian Eno
Backwater - Brian Eno
Give the Anarchist a Cigarette - Chumbawamba
The Things that Dreams are Made of - Human League
Empire State Human - Human League
Lawn Chairs - Our Daughter's Wedding
Doctorin’ the Tardis - The Timelords
Go! (Club Mix) - Tones on Tail
I Travel - Simple Minds
The American - Simple Minds
Another Girl, Another Planet - The Only Ones
Mystery Dance - Elvis Costello
Steppin’ Out - Joe Jackson
Young at Heart - The Bluebells
Balloon Man - Robyn Hitchcock & The Egyptians
The Future's So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades - Timbuk 3
A Spy in the House Of Love - The Db’s
Collapsing New People - Fad Gadget
Can't Make Love - Wall of Voodoo
Der Mussolini - DAF (Deutsche Americanische Freundshaft)
Dance, Motherfucker, Dance - Violent Femmes
History - Javelin Boot
When Angels Sleep - 13 Nightmares
Another Time, Another Place - Wanna-Bees
Kindling - Book Hank
Queen of Venus - The New Duncan Imperials
Gizzards, Scrapple, and Tripe - The New Duncan Imperials
Elvis is Everywhere - Mojo Nixon
Coyote - Rank and File
Another Set of Teeth - The Mekons
Where Were You? - The Mekons
Big Lizard - The Dead Milkmen
Maximizing the Audience - Wim Martens
Malcolm McLaren - Double Dutch
Divine Hammer - The Breeders
Drivin’ on 9 - The Breeders
Surface Tension - Rupert Hine
Yellow Pearl - Philip Lynott
Rockwrok - Ultravox!
Jailhouse Rock - Residents
Be Stiff (live) - Devo
Let's Eat (live) - Nick Lowe’s Last Chicken in the Shop
Homicide (live) - 999
Police Car (live) - Larry Wallis
In a Glass Eye - Nash the Slash
Children of the Night - Nash the Slash
Bela Lugosi's Dead - Bauhaus
The Photographer: A Gentleman's Honor (Instrumental Version) - Philip Glass
Don't Leave Me This Way - Communards feat Sarah Jane Morris
Just Can't Get Enough - Depeche Mode
Puttin’ on the Ritz - Taco
How Bizarre - OMC
Oh Yeah - Yello
Cherry Bomb - The Runaways
Cock in My Pocket - Iggy Pop
Institutionalized - Suicidal Tendencies
Video Killed the Radio Star - The Buggles
Come On Eileen - Dexy’s Midnight Runners
The Killing Moon (All Night Version) - Echo & the Bunnymen

https://music.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLQ7aA-DZeUUoGBOuYys4R2D0WHJP-YtCo&si=hFhiNe32YbN5xfPM

Chapter Text

Churchill pulled the door open for Jen.

“Such a gentleman!”

“I try, love!”

Jen got a tingle when he said that even though she knew it was another of his Britishisms.

They walked up to the counter.

A Latino boy, wearing a Bad Brains t-shirt and who looked about high school age, came up. Churchill was about to comment on the shirt, when he asked, “What can I do for you and your girlfriend?”

Churchill quickly responded, “Oh, no, no,no! She’s just a mate!” The boy gave a quizzical look. “A friend! A friend! Not a girlfriend!”

The boy was taken back. He wondered what would be so wrong with her being his girlfriend. He thought she was kind of hot! And quite frankly, too good for him!

He looked at the woman and saw a very annoyed look on her face and quickly asked, “So what will you two be having?”

The man obviously did not realize what trouble he was in. He gave his order jovially, but the woman responded with a reserve he had seen his mother use with his father.

The man had tried to make up for it by stating very clearly that he would pay for the dinner, but the boy saw the woman give a bit of an eyeball. She might not be this man’s girlfriend, but it was obvious that he was still in big trouble!

Churchill asked in a placating manner, “Where would you like to sit?”

Jen sat quietly by a window and stared out it as Churchill sat down.

Churchill sighed. “What is wrong?! We’re not boyfriend and girlfriend! We’re just friends!”

Jen looked at Churchill. He was smiling a little and had his eyebrows raised. She sighed and started to realize how his charm worked on those girls in high school.

“No, we’re not. But did you have to be so adamant about it?!”

“Come on! I wouldn’t do anything like Adam Ant!”

Churchill looked at Jen. She wasn’t having any of his shit! This was a small but steady scowl between her immaculate eyebrows. She never intimidated him like him in high school!

“Okay, I’m sorry. Maybe I was a little strong there. I didn’t mean to come across that way!”

“Well, you did. That boy and a girl are talking about us and pointing.”

Churchill turned to look. The girl was just leaving and the boy was cleaning and concentrating on the counter.

Churchill’s face took on a ruddy complexion as he turned back around.

He spoke quietly, “Okay. You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.” Then he spoke more brightly. “You know I think you’re awesome! That’s why I want to hang out with you again!”

Jen sighed. She wondered if she got more upset than she should be. Churchill had never given any indication this was more than just two friends getting together. Maybe she was making this a bigger deal than it really was.

And they had been having a good time. She had enjoyed hanging out and chatting with Churchill again.

She sighed again. “Okay, you’re forgiven this time!”

Churchill couldn’t help but smile when he saw Jen smile.

Churchilol thought about how it didn’t take this much work to break up their fights in high school. Things had definitely changed. He wasn’t totally sure how he felt about that.

The boy shouted, “69!”

There were a couple of snickers in the restaurant when Churchill realized it was their ticket. They were so busy fighting, neither of them had noticed.

Churchill got up quickly.

“Need any help?” Jen asked.

“They have it on a tray. I should be fine!”

As they ate, Jen realized Churchill had become more of a nerd actually. He was really into Star Wars and Star Trek now. He had liked them in high school, but he seemed to know a lot more about the lore and what now.

“I tried that new ‘Doctor Who’ you love so much,” Churchill said wistfully. He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I enjoyed a few episodes but as a series… I don’t know.”

“Doctor Who is an English icon! The English love Doctor Who!”

“I know! I know! We had this fight in high school. I gave it a second chance. I don’t understand what my homeland loves about it!”

After they finished their meal and were leaving, a girl came up to clean the girl. With a wry smile, she said, “I hope you and your girlfriend had a good meal! See you next time!”

“We’re not-” Churchill stopped abruptly when he saw Jen looking at him with raised eyebrows.

Then continued, “We did. Thank you!”

He looked at Jen and saw a small smile on her face.

Then he caught the girl and the boy glancing at each other smiling.

As they headed to the car, Churchill quietly, but with annoyance, said “Bastards!”

Chapter Text

When they were in the car, Churchill looked at the dashboard clock and started the car. The Misfits’ “Attitude” started up where it had left out when they got out.

“We still have time even before the bar opens!’ he commented, shrugging his shoulders and holding his palms up.

Churchill saw Jen’s eyes widen and a smile quickly grew on her face.

A little hesitant, Churchill quietly said, “Yes?”

He was taken a little by surprise when she grabbed his arm. Then looking him right in the eyes, she responded, “Where else do we go after Tasty Tacos?!”

“Dairy Queen!” Churchill immediately answered.

Jen saw Churchill give up a big smile. God! He had a gorgeous smile with amazing straight teeth. Briton or not, he was a teenager in America and got his teeth straightened. But how did he keep them so white? Hers was covered with tea stains.

Jen interjected, “You got Tasty Tacos. I’ll get Dairy Queen!”

As he pulled the car out, he took a look at her and asked, “How did that tradition of going to Dairy Queen after Tasty Tacos get started?”

“Because our mouths were burning! All that hot sauce we’d put on the tacos to prove our manhood!”

Churchill gave a light laugh and shook his head. “What were we thinking?”

Jen gave a small shrug. “I guess we had to prove our manhood somehow!”

Churchill gave a big smile and glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes. “Well, it doesn’t seem to have worked very well with you!”

Jen closed her eyes and shook her head.

“Oh come on now! That’s funny!”

Jen gave him a side glance with a scrunched noise.

After that, she was silent and Churchill wasn’t sure what to say. So he just sat there while Public Image’s “Rise” played.

As they pulled into Dairy Queen’s drive up, Jen asked, “So why did you invite me to join you and your friends tonight?” Churchill was relieved to hear her talking to him again.

“Like I said, it’s Mike’s band.”

Jen scrunched her eyebrows and then said, “You never said anything about a Mike.”

“I didn’t.”

Jen shook her head, looked at him, and then asked, “So who is this Mike?”

Fuck! How could he have forgotten to mention that! And now to spring it on her as they’re on the way.

He started in a soft look, “Look! I’m sorry! I should have—”

He then found himself interrupted by a garbled voice saying something about taking an order.

Jen leaned over Churchill and ordered a pineapple sundae.

This was followed by a garbled message asking if there was anything else.

Churchill saw Jen turned to him with a wry smile. Then she told the speaker, ‘Yes, my male platonic friend needs to order too!”

After he ordered his strawberry blizzard and pulled up, he was about to say something to Jen.

But she spoke first. “So who is this Mike that should mean something to me?”

Churchill could feel his nerves acting up. A slight tingle seemed to slide over his skin and a little of nausea developed in the middle of his stomach.

“Yes. About that.” He took a breath and gathered his thoughts.

Then he heard the window of the drive up open.

A teenage girl looked out of the drive up window at Churchill and asked, “Pineapple sundae and strawberry blizzard?”

Jen yelled over Winston, “Yeah! That’s our order!” Then she reached across Churchill’s face and handed her debit card to the girl.

After the girl rang up their order, Jen was leaning over Churchill again when he said, “I have this!” He grabbed her card and handed it to her with a bemused look.

“I suppose that is easier.”

They pulled into a parking spot to eat.

Churchill turned down the Bad Brains’ “Sailin’ On”.

He turned to Jen. Her eyebrows scrunched again as she looked at him. He must have looked more serious than he meant,

He started. “I’m sorry. I messed up. I even thought about it before asking you. But somehow I totally spaced it off.”

A few wrinkles appeared on the top of Jen’s nose. “Okay….”

“This is the band of our old high school friend, Mike Sangster.”

“Mike Sangster. Mike who would talk punk, science fiction, and comics with us in school? That Mike? Red hair?”

“Yeah, I should have let you know before dragging you out. I don’t really know how you feel about seeing anyone from our high school days.”

Churchill’s cheeks were a bright red. He definitely had the light complexion of a people who spent many days with rain and clouds.

Jen sighed. “Yeah, I would have liked to have known beforehand. This is kinda awkward for me.”

“Yeah,” Churchill replied quietly. “And I knew it would be. I can’t believe I forgot to tell you!”

Jen stared into her sundae for a long time, saying nothing.

“Look! I’ll just take you home. This is all my fault.”

Jen lay her hand gently on Churchill. He noticed how immaculate her fingernails were.

“I would have preferred to have known beforehand. But I was actually interested in hearing some live music again and meeting your friends.”

She was silent for a moment before continuing. “We can go.”

“You certain?” He looked up from her hand to her face.

She gave a small smile. He couldn’t tell what mood was behind it. But she said, “Yeah, Let’s go! I didn’t dress up just to go home.”

Dress up? For him. Shit! Should he have dressed up better?

She lifted the sundae container carefully and threw it in his trash bag. Then carefully cleaned her fingers with the napkin. Churchill noticed how feminine it all looked. He didn’t remember Jack being this fastidious.

“All right then. Let’s go see an awesome band!”

Chapter Text

Jeff, Tammy, and Joyce came in together and sat down in their usual spot with two tables already pushed together! Susan and Mark always came as soon as the place opened to claim it. It was a way for them to spend some time together away from “the boys”.

Jeff nodded his head towards the door, “There’s Churchill!” Then his eyes opened up! “And I believe that gal from The B-52’s!”

Susan smiled broadly as she saw Churchill hold the door for Jen. And she nudged Mark. Mark gave a very light nod and a small smile.

Joyce commented, “Damn! I didn’t realize how hot she is! If he hadn’t asked her out, I would!”

Susan looked at Joyce and said half joking, half serious, “Behave, Joyce!”

As Churchill was holding the door for Jen, he looked at their regular table. They were all looking between him and Jen.

Churchill’s light complexion turned a deep red. Oh shit! He forgot to tell them he was bringing Jen.

Jen saw Churchill looking out and followed his line of vision. She saw five people smiling and looking at her. She instinctively looked down and pulled her hair behind her ear with her index and middle finger.

Susan saw Churchill’s red face. “Okay, everybody, let’s stop staring. We don’t want to spook the newbie away!”

Churchill fidgeted a little as he stood in front of them. Some might not have noticed, but Susan knew Churchill well. She saw his finger twitch lightly, his eyes blink a little too much, and his feet bouncing in his shoes.

“Hey guys, this is my old friend from high school…” Churchill’s right lip went up a little bit. He was obviously thinking of the best way to explain it. She looked at Jen and saw her eyebrows form a straight line.

“Jen, right! Didn’t we see you at The B-52’s?” Susan pointed at the only empty chair with her hand. Jen sat down.

Susan turned to Mark. “We’re trading places.”

Mark smiled. “Yes, dear.”

As Mark got up, Susan scooted over to the chair next to Jen. Winston must have got an empty chair from nearby, because he was just sitting down.

Winston gave Susan a side glance. She gave him a side glance she used on her kids.

Jen watched Susan come sit next to her. Susan was a bit on the heavy side. She was wearing an oversized flannel shirt and short hair. In a lot of ways, she looked like a stereotypical Midwesterner mom.

The first band of the night took the stage. Jen didn’t see any redhead, or for that fact, anybody who looked familiar.

Jen turned to Churchill, “Where’s Mike?”

“He’s in the headliner.”

“Yeah,” Jeff added, “This is the band with his old crush!”

The band was getting situated.

Churchill hoped Jeff felt the intense mental attack he was sending his way. As he turned to Jen, he caught Jeff getting Susan evilest “Mom” looks.

“I asked the bassist out long ago, but she said no!”

Churchill watched as Jen looked at the bassist, eying her. She was a curvy woman with a brown complexion and long, curly black hair.

“She’s very attractive. Beautiful smile!”

The lead singer stepped up to the mic and announced, “Good evening! We’re Foxholes!” And the band immediately went into the first song with some jangly guitar.

“Have fun but not too much fun
Too many nights you come undone
Living fast and dying young
Where you gonna be when tomorrow come

“So it goes....as they say
On and on the time we waste

“Backseat's getting crowded
Music's playing, someone's shouting
We're driving in circles around this town
Nothing to do when the sun goes down

“So it goes....as they say
On and on the time we waste”

Chapter Text

“I filled my lungs with smoke
let my mind free to roam
Routines, daydreams, same things
I think I need, something else
To get me through the afternoon
and back to the well

“I'll keep pretending
these days are never ending, no

“I'll be right over
right, right, right over
I'll be right over
right, right, right over
soon

“Go ahead
and take a bow
No one is around
I noticed
Nothing's changed
we're undefeated
in the afternoon
amongst the necessary evil

“I'll keep pretending
these days are never ending, no.”

The last strum of heavy reverb began to fade, the lead singer waved and yelled, “Thank you very much. Stick around for the Poly Mall Cops and The Hollowmen!”

Jen grabbed Churchill’s arm with both her hands and leaned into him. “Oh my god! That was freaking awesome!”

Churchill gave a chuckle. He thought it was funny how Jen used “freak’ instead of “fuck”. “Yeah, I thought Foxholes would be more up your alley.”

Jen’s eyebrows rose. “So you know them?! Can we go meet them?!”

“Okay, easy now! I’m sure we'll see them hanging out in the bar later.”

Jeff spoke up, “Oh, don’t worry, Jen! Churchill can introduce you to LOTS of people in the local music scene,”

Churchill gave him a glare with half closed eyes and Susan looked at him with a straight mouth and slightly raised eyebrows,

Jen was taken back, “Really?”

Churchill’s face turned very red. In a monotone, Churchill told Jeff. “Stop right now, Thank you!”

Jen was curious, but could see Churchill’s unease and decided she would ask later when it was just them.

But just as she was thinking this, she suddenly heard some lyrics she knew well, and she saw the three women dancing in their chairs, moving their arms in unison,

Jen let out a loud screech of joy and excitement. Churchill actually winced a little.

Immediately, Jen was joining in with them. All three of the men were groaning and rolling their eyes,

“Hey you, always on the run
Gotta slow it down. Gotta to have some fun!”

They couldn’t get through the do-do-do part of the song, because they all started laughing too much,

Joyce and Jen almost screeched in unison. “Oh my god! You’re into the Spice Girls!”

Churchill let his head slowly fall to the table and hit the table with his forehead three times. He slowly raised his head again.

Jen laughed. “This is all your fault, I never heard of them until you introduced me to them!”

“I wasn’t introducing them to you!” Churchill protested. “I was telling you how awful they were and why you SHOULDN’T listen to them!”

The other women at the table laughed even harder! They knew how Churchill felt about the Spice Girls.

Joyce cried loudly, “YOU introduced her to The Spice Girls!” She followed this with another laugh,

“No! I was telling her why she shouldn’t listen to them and how god awful they are! She wasn’t supposed to check them out and like them!”

Joyce pointed at Jen and herself, “Girl, we are getting together and talking later. Have you seen Spice World?! I have it on BluRay!”

Churchill interrupted, “Can we talk about anything else?! Even The Spice Pistols, for fuck’s sake!”

“The Spice Pistols?” Jen asked in surprise.

Joyce answered first. “Oh, yeah, Some British guys did some punk covers of Spice Girls songs. They’re not that good, but it’s good for a laugh!”

Jen gave Chuchill a swat across his arm with her hand, “Why didn’t you tell me about them?!”

“Jesus Christ, woman! I didn’t think it was something so bloody important to bring up as we got to know each other again! For fuck’s sake!”

Before they could continue, they heard some drum pounding and some random guitar strums and riff. Then the band members spoke to each other and nodded.

“Okay, I guess we’re good to go! We’re Greg Wheeler and the Poly Mall Cops!’

The drums started a hard beat that went through a couple of measures before a hard raggedy sounding guitar joined in as they started their song, “Cross You Out”.

Chapter Text

NOTE: Making some changes to the story. Churchill gave Jen a playlist back in Ch 18. I’ve put a tracklist at the end of Ch 18, although it will be its own chapter in future drafts. Also, Jen is no longer an upper middle class IT person. Instead, she’s a lower class data entry worker. I just felt the story of working poor trans needed to be told! And because Jen is making a lot less money, she’s sharing an apartment with Nthabiseng and her two daughters. And Churchill’s nickname is now just Church.

Greg Wheeler slammed on his guitar as he sang through the long, dark hair that kept falling over his face. An attractive blonde woman laid down hard bass lines while a chubby drummer pound out hard, pulsing beats.

As they finished “Manic Fever”, the bassist and drums suddenly stopped and Greg played one last bar of the song before fading out to a buzz.

The bassist yelled out, “We’re the Poly Mall Cops. Stay tuned for the Hollowmen!” She had thanked Foxholes early in the show.

Jen looked straight at Church and yelled, “Holy shit!” A huge smile laid across her face.

“I know, right?” Church was so excited that she appreciated them too. “They’re so fucking brilliant!”

Jen smiled after he used “brilliant”. She always seemed to find his use of British amusing. He was never teased for them when he and Jen were in high school. He learned to cut them out of his vocabulary around school, but when it was just “Jack” and him, he felt comfortable enough to let them spew out.

She saw Church looking at her with a big smile. Then his face blushed and it went all serious again. “They are really talented,” he said in a much flatter tone.

“Yes,” answered Jen with a sigh.

Jen saw the short, curvier gal, Joyce, wave at her. If her memory served her right, she was the best friend of the gal, Tammy?, in the younger couple. The couple wasn’t that young. Probably the same age as she and Church. But in the other couple, the man had to be in his forties and his wife was maybe a bit older.

Joyce looked at her and said, “I need to use the girl’s room. Care to join me?”

Tammy looked up for her phone. “Oh! I need to go, too! I’ll join you guys!”

The older woman, Susan? Jen was horrible with names! She kissed her husband-?- on the cheek. “Guess it’s time for a girls outing!”

Jen was caught off guard. She knew women used the restroom together for various reasons, but the only person she ever went with was Nthabiseng, and once with the wife of her co-worker, Mitra. Most of the time, she made sure she went before going anywhere and often held it until she got home.

Apparently, she had been spacing out, because all the other women were up and Joyce grabbed her hand and said quietly, “We got your back, my queer sister!”

If Joyce was trans, she didn’t have any tell tale signs. Jen guessed she must be a lesbian, bi, or something.

Next thing she knew, she was pulled out of her chair and dragged to the restroom.

Chapter Text

The four women entered the restroom. There were only three toilets there and two women were already waiting there. One was obviously trans. But when she and Jen caught each looking at the other, they turned their heads away in embarrassment.

Jen wanted to say something, but most trans women don’t want to draw attention to themselves. She read somewhere where a black trans woman talked about how black people in white settings would give each other a nod, like a way of saying, “I see you.” This woman wished trans people would have something similar.

As they stood waiting, Joyce grabbed Jen by the arm. “Okay, spill the dirt!”

Jen was confused. “Dirt? Dirt on what?” Jen was worried they wanted her to answer questions about being trans and her trans situation.

“You and Church!”

Jen was taken by surprise. And she must have shown it, because the other three were giggling like school girls.

Susan reached over and gently touched Jen’s arm. “I’m sorry. I’m sure Joyce didn’t mean to embarrass you!” Susan gave Joyce a side glanced that Jen guessed she had perfected on her kids? Then she turned back to Jen. “You know. We’re just curious.”

Jen didn’t know how to respond or what to say. She wasn’t sure what was going on with Church and her. He seemed to have made it clear that he just wanted to be friends.

Jen looked at her shoes. “We’re just friends. He’s not interested in me that way.”

Tammy let out a small laugh, and said, “Oh, hun.”

Susan put her hands up with her palms out, “Okay, ladies. She has spoken.”

The look on Tammy’s and Joyce’s faces showed they were not ready to drop the matter, but Susan’s eyebrows and lips were straight as a ruler. The look actually made Jen uncomfortable and seemed to have the same effect on Joyce and Tammy.

Joyce sighed. Then she looked at Jen and gave her a little wink. “Well, if he doesn’t make a move, I might be interested!”

Tammy gave Joyce a light slap with the back of her hand. “Joyce!” Susan shook her head, but a smile was on her lips.

“What?! She said they’re friends!”

Susan sighed. “Okay, new topic!”

Joyce cried, “You HAVE to come to the show with us next week! Just us girls! The boys don’t like country!”

“Country?” Jen looked at each woman to make sure they were serious.

Tammy's eyebrows went up. She had a small smile, but it seemed to affect her whole face. “Well, the first act, Fred Love & the Bakersfield Brawl, could be described as alt country. The second band is an old style country band led by Tom Armstrong from The Hollowmen. And Nine Pound Hammer could best be described as cowpunk.”

“Nine Pound Hammer?!” Jen was surprised. She liked their early stuff but never checked to see what else they had out there. “They doing a reunion show?”

Tammy gave a little pout. “They never broke up. They’re still going is what they’re doing!”

Joyce gave Jen a side glance. “You’re in trouble! That’s one of her favorite bands!”

Jen lightly grabbed Tammy’s arm. “I’m so sorry. I love what I’ve heard by Nine Pound Hammer! I would love to go!”

Tammy looked at Susan, who nodded, and said, “Then it’s settled. Do you know how to get back here?’

As they took turns using the toilets as they were free, it was decided Susan would pick her up for next week.

Chapter Text

Church was taken a bit by surprise when Jen was asked to go to the bathroom with the other women. It must have shown on his face, because Mark gave him his Spock lifted eyebrow.

Church felt his face burn as guilt hit him. Why wouldn’t they ask her to join them in the bathroom? Then he felt his face burn harder as he caught himself wondering what exactly Jen used to go to the bathroom.

He gave his head a little shake. “So why do women go all together? Safety?”

Mark answered, “I heard that’s part of it, but Susan says it’s more to gossip than anything else.”

Church shrugged at that. “What could they be gossiping about?”

Jeff let out a very incredulous “Really?!”

Mark just smiled and shook his head.

The conversation hit a lull as Church decided not to take the conversation further.

After a moment or two of silence, Jeff suddenly asked, “So we still doing the Schwarzenegger marathon while the girls go country?”

“Yessiree!” answered Mark with more enthusiasm than he usually spoke with. “Found “Predator” and “Terminator 2” streaming and I’m picking up “Last Action Hero” from the library tomorrow!”

Jeff suddenly piped in, “Something is rotten in the state of Denmark and Hamlet is taking out the trash!”

Then in unison they all spoke in bad Schwarzenegger imitations, “To be or not to be! NOT to be!” After which, they all laughed and Mark blew out some beer from his nose.

“Jesus, Mark!” Church cried. Jeff and Mark were grabbing the napkins trying to clean the mess up before the women came back. “I’ll get some more napkins!” Church offered, getting up and heading to the bar.

Just after Mark went to throw the wet napkins in the trash, a server came by and cleaned the table. She was the one who usually took care of their table when they were at this bar. “The girls just can’t leave you boys alone!”

“Sorry, Cindy,” Mark said, coming back to his seat.

“Appreciating you cleaning it up, love,” added Church. He saw Cindy give him a look. They had discussed this before. “I mean Cindy. Sorry! You know I don’t mean anything by it!”

Cindy smiled and nodded and then took their orders for themselves and the women.

“We’re going to have to tip her big again!” Jeff said when she was out of hearing.

They all jumped as Susan was suddenly at the table asking, “Oh! Why is that?!” The rest of the women sat down right after her.

Jen looked at Church, without thinking, grabbed his arm, and excitedly told him, “Your friends invited me to the country show next week!”

“Wait! What?!” Church’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Yeah, she’s joining us!” exclaimed Joyce. “It will be fun!”

“So…. what? Are we now The Gang of Seven?” Church was fidgeting a little in his seat. He looked to Susan.

Susan just gave a shrug and a small smile.

“Yes!” cried Joyce. “I love all you boring cishets, but it’s about time we had another queer in this group!”

Jen recognized Church’s behaviour, the fidgeting and looking around. “I’m sorry. Is it an issue? I don’t mean to take your friends!”

Church looked at his drink as he quietly answered, “No.” But Jen saw Susan giving Church a concerned look.

Suddenly Jen heard a familiar voice say, “Good evening! Thanks for coming out!”

The face was a little bit more worn and the hair was a lot longer, but Jen recognized her old classmate.

Trying to make Church feel better, Jen said, “Come on! It’s Mike! Let’s join the people by the stage!” Then she grabbed his arm and pulled him up there.

The other dark hair guitarist said, “How about Foxholes and The Poly Mall Cops? I thought they were amazing.”

Mike added in. “They were!”

As Church and Jen got closer to the stage, Mike saw Church, smiled a little, and gave him a greeting nod.

Then he turned to the other singer and said, “You ready, Tom?’

Tom answered, “Yep!” Then he turned to the audience and said, “This one is called Soft World!”

Tom started laying in a strong riff that was soon added by some hard strums with the drums and bass quickly joining in.

“Her eyes are stuck away
Back where you can’t see
She’s the blind spot
In everybody’s eyes

No one comes in or out
Once the curtains close
No one will ever wonder
Where does it grow

Listen
Don’t listen to me
Listen
Don’t listen to me
Won’t somebody save her”

Chapter Text

“It’s not a question
That I want to know the answer to
I know what I got is wrong

And it doesn’t matter
What you want to be
It’s what you really are that counts

I’ve been lying to you all of this time
I’ve been lying to you in actions, not in words
I’ve been lying to you in actions, not in words

I’ve been lying to you all of this time
I’ve been lying to you in actions, not in words
I’ve been lying to you in actions, not in words
I’ve been lying to you in actions, not in words”

And the song approached its ending, Mike and Tom playing their guitars off each other threading some strange and twisting melodies until the bass and drum hit their last hard thumps.

Tom yelled, “Thanks to everyone who came out tonight!” The drummer and bassist were already breaking things down.

Mike added, “Yeah, thank you! We appreciate it!”

Then their drummer, a guy with a huge friendly smile and blond hair that went down to his shoulders, added, leaning over while unscrewing one of his cymbals, “Hey! Don’t forget! Tom’s country band, Honky Tonk Habit is playing right here next week! And also check out Mike’s other band, Ten Watt Robot!”

Jen grabbed Church’s arm and quietly asked, “Can we go talk to him now?”

She must have said it too excitedly because Church smiled, shook his head, and said, “It’s not a problem.”

As they walked over to him, Church said, “Hello, Mike!”

A big smile cracked across Mike’s face. The same big smile he had when they were in high school. Mike then ran his hand through the top of his long, red hair pulling it back.

He set down the cord he was rolling and stepped toward Church with his arms wide. “Haven’t seen you for a while!” He took Church in a hug, which rather surprised Jen. Mike was very nice and friendly in high school, but not really a hugger. But Church didn’t seem surprised and gave him a light hug back.

When they were facing each other, Church asked, “How are you and that lovely wife of yours doing? Didn’t see her at the show.”

Mike gave a small smile with his lips. “Yeah, she’s watching the baby. Couldn’t find a babysitter.” Then his mouth turned a little frowny and his eyebrows tilted in. He grabbed Church by the forearm. “You doing okay these days?”

“I’m still doing good!” Jen couldn’t tell if Church was irritated with or appreciated the question. Maybe a little of both?

Mike turned to Jen. “So who’s this lovely lady with you?” Mike had a crooked smile on his face and his eyes widened

“Er, yes,” Church found himself stumbling over his words. “Well, you remember our good friend, Jack…”

“Oh, wow! Have you seen him lately! God, I miss him. He was fun!” Mike stopped suddenly. He would occasionally catch himself rambling and then put a quick end to it. “Is this his sister? Did he have a sister? I see the family resemblance.”

Church looked over at Jen. She was staring at the ground and making a circle with her toe.

“Oh, I’m sorry! Did something happen to Jack?! I wished I had known!”

“Mike!” Church suddenly saw Mike, Jen, and the bassist, Eric, and drummer, Joe, looking at him. He realized he must have said that louder than he meant.

Jen realized this was all a big mistake. Why the fuck did she think she could mix the two worlds. Jack’s life was in the past where it was supposed to be.

“Church, I’m going back to the table.”

“Jen! Don’t be like that! I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. I could have done this better.”

Mike turned to Jen. “Jen, is it? Look, I’m not sure what I did, but I didn’t mean any trouble.”

Jen saw Mike’s eyes light up. “Oh, wow!”

Jen quickly walked away, breathing deeply in and out, starting on her panic attack rituals.

Church saw Jen turn away and make a beeline to the table.

“Er, Mike…”

“No, go!” He waved him off. “But that is…. She’s…” He waved his hands around in front of him. “We’re…?”

“Yes,” Church yelled back as he headed back to the table.

Chapter Text

As Church headed to the table, he saw Susan go into full mom mode. Telling everybody to scoot back and give her breathing room. Sent Tammy for a glass of water. Then lightly rubbed Jen’s back and spoke gently to her.

When he reached the table, Susan gave him a look that combined anger and concern. Basically, the facial equivalent of “What the fuck?!”

Church started to talk, but stopped because he wasn’t even sure what to say. He wasn’t exactly sure what happened.

“Church, why don’t you bring the car up front and we’ll bring her up there after she catches her breath?”

Church turned around and headed to the parking lot. He was starting to get a little nervous himself and took some deep breaths as he headed to the car.

God damn you, you stupid idiot! Even in high school, Jen was not very social and kept to herself. Meeting his friends and Mike again, of course, had to be overwhelming. No wonder people consider him thoughtless!

He took the fob out and unlocked the car. He grabbed the door and it didn’t open, “Jesus!” He pushed the button on the fob as hard as he could three or four times. The car made corresponding beeps, but the door opened.

He started the car and Larry Wallis’s live version of “Police Car” from “Live Stiffs Live” roared at him. He stumbled around, but got the radio turned off. “Jesus Fucking Christ!”

Okay, Church, take it easy. Your therapists have taught how to deal with times like this without losing control.

Church closed his eyes and took some deep breaths.

When he caught his breath, he opened his eyes and took the car to the front of the bar. Jen was nowhere to be seen. And he was blocking traffic.

The car behind pulled around and yelled “Asshole!” as they passed. Church took a couple of deep breaths.

Then he heard Susan yell his name. He hopped out of the car as another car was passing him and he almost ran right into it.

He ran around the car and opened the door for Jen. Susan helped her get into the car.

Someone walking by said, “Look how drunk that girl is!”

Church once again took a deep breath and held back the urge to hit the guy.

Soon as Susan had Jen in the car, Church ran back to get in the car. There was a small crowd developing, watching what was going on. Church took a deep breath,

They drove for a while in silence. All that could be heard in the car was both of them breathing deeply.

Jen smiled and laughed.

Church was a little taken aback. He was trying his best. Was he really doing that poorly?

Jen continued, “We sound like a couple of Darth Vaders!” Then after a pause, “Or two obscene phone callers on the phone with each other!”

Church found himself laughing a lot harder than he meant to. Jen was laughing too, but it made her cough hard,

Church looked straight ahead but said, “Er, I’m really sorry, This was all too much. I knew it when we were at Dairy Queen. I should have never made you go through with it.”

She set her hand on his forearm. “You explained everything and I agreed. I should have known better. That I wasn’t ready to face my past.”

Church didn’t know how to take that since he was part of that past. But it didn’t seem the time to ask about it.

So they both remained silent for the rest of the trip home.

Church parked in front of Jen’s apartment. He got out to open the door for her, but she was already letting herself out.

“I was trying to be a gentleman!”

She gave a small, wry smile, shrugged her shoulders, and said, “Sorry.”

“You okay now? Need any help?”

“I’m good.”

Then before Church knew it, Jen gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for taking me out.”

Church was embarrassed by how he felt as he realized she kissed him. He found himself smiling, and he could feel his face burning again.

She was already at the door before he snapped back to reality.

“I’ll text you!” he shouted. “We can plan something quieter!”

She smiled and shook her head. “Thanks for letting my neighbors know!”

Then she went inside.

Church put on the playlist he had made for Jen. He was trying to think about what they could do that wouldn’t put so much social pressure on her. Something like their meal at Tasty Tacos and visit to Dairy Queen.

When he got home, he spotted himself in the rearview mirror and noticed, despite the tired, rugged look on his face, he had quite the smile.

Chapter Text

After Jen closed the door, she leaned against it, her back to the door, legs totally straight and at an angle to hold herself up. She again was catching her breath. The door opened to the main room which was a combined living room/dining room/kitchen.

As she caught her breath, she realized the tv had been playing as she entered, but now it was off. She saw Nthabiseng walking towards her. The oldest daughter, Palesa, headed to the kitchen and Jen could hear her getting a glass.

Nthabiseng reached her. Her younger daughter, Esther, the more shy and quiet of the two, stood a few feet behind her mother. Palesa came up with a glass of water and held it out to Jen.

Jen stood up from the door, grabbed the water, and took a sip.

Nthabiseng lightly grabbed her by the elbow and led her to the kitchen table. Nthabiseng pulled out a chair and Jen crashed into it, almost smashing the glass of water against the table.

The two girls sat across from Jen and Nthabiseng. Jen took another drink.

Nthabiseng set a hand on Jen’s back. Quietly, but with a hint of anger, she asked, “What did he do?!”

Jen had to smile. Nthabiseng has basically become her protective older sister. Her daughters even called her Aunt Jen.

“He didn’t do anything.” Jen paused a second. “In fact, he was a gentleman.” Church’s great reluctance to be seen as her boyfriend has escaped her mind for the moment.

“Then what happened?”

“Well… um, we were…” Jen didn’t really know how to put it. She wasn’t even 100% sure why she acted the way she did.

Nthabiseng and her daughters waited while Jen gathered herself. She took a long drink of the water.

“We went to see a band featuring an old high school friend of Church’s and mine.” Jen saw Nthabiseng raise an eyebrow. “I don’t know how to explain it.” Jen paused, thinking. “It went awkward and I freaked out. Next thing, I knew I was having a panic attack.”

Nthabiseng’s hand was still on her back. It moved to Jen’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

Nthabiseng took a breath. “Didn’t your therapist say he needed to deal with your pre-transition life or it would eventually bite you in the ass?”

Jen answered quietly and reluctantly, “Yeah, he did.”

Nthabiseng gave a sympathetic smile. “I think you can consider yourself as ass-bitten.”

Jen chuckled, but Nthabiseng’s daughter roared with laughter. Afterall, they were at that age. And hearing their mother swear was probably too much for them.

Palesa said under her breath, “I guess that’s one kink you are definitely not into.”

Nthabiseng looked mortified, but Jen and her daughters were dying of laughter.

After the laughter had died down, Jen pulled her chair back. “I think I’m ready for bed. What time is it anyway?”

“About 2 a.m.,” answered Nthabiseng. “About time for all of us to go to bed!” She looked at her daughters as she said that.

“Wait a minute!” Jen looked at Nthabiseng, “What are you guys doing up so late?”

Palesa replied. “You went out with a guy! You think we weren’t going to stay up and see how it went?!”

Jen looked at Nthabiseng with raised eyebrows. Nthabiseng just gave an embarrassed smile and shrugged her shoulders.

Jen shook her head and chuckled. “Whatever.”

She headed to her bedroom and then, with her back to them, added, “We’re just friends.”

She heard a short laugh burst out of Palesa, but Jen said nothing and went into her room.

As she got undressed and put on her nightgown, her mind went over the night. She had really enjoyed it all except the end. She kept smiling, thinking about it.

Chapter Text

Church’s alarm blared in imitation of a red alert from Star Trek! Had taken him a while to find that sound effect and set it up as his alarm. Susan was probably right. He’s more of a geek than he wants to admit.

He picked up his phone and turned off the alarm and laid back down. Mistie was laying at his feet. Showed up just as he got home. He had obviously been in a scrape and needed somewhere safe to spend the night.

Church lifted his head and looked down at him.

“Feeling better, mate?”

Mistie lifted his head and looked at him. Took a big stretch. He seemed to be moving a lot easier this morning than he was the night before. He walked over Church’s head and head butted him softly. Chruch scratched him behind his ears.

His fur was getting pretty matted. Church’d have to take to him with scissors soon if he could catch him and keep him down.

Mistie purred softly as Church scratched him.

“Seems we both had an interesting night, eh?”

Mistie continued purring and moving his head around to get Church to scratch some other spots.

Church’s mind went over the night. “But I rather fucked things up at the end of it.”

Mistie didn’t react and just continue moving his head and neck around,

“I guess I should text and apologize, eh?”

The Star Trek red alert went off again. Church reached over to the rickety night stand he found at a thrift store and turned off the alarm.

Mistie let out a mild yowl of annoyance, but just curled up in a ball next to him.

“We’ll have to get up sooner or later, cat. Dorothy will be waiting for me.”

Church pictured the sweet, short, old lady waiting there, smiling with those yellow teeth in that dark face. And he knew she would want to know all about the night before.

His mind went to a discussion they had and how she found it so weird to hear British accents coming out of black people. “You know we do have black people in England!”

Then his mind went back to the night before.

He thought about what he would text to Jen. He really felt guilty about it. But he really wasn’t exactly sure what he did wrong.

But he had obviously messed up. He imagined his mother telling him how he needed to take accountability. She was a sweet, understanding woman, but she was all about righting your wrongs and had instilled that in Church.

And his father was always on about doing the right thing. But that hadn’t stopped him from taking his own life, did it? His therapist was probably right. He’d need to deal with the anger he felt at his father for his suicide some time.

But not this morning!

He started texting. “Jen, I am so fucking sorry. I really fucked up last night. I’m a right idjit…”

He stopped. He could hear his therapist. “An apology isn’t about you. It’s about them.”

He sighed. He wondered what Susan would tell him.

The Star Trek red alert went off a third time. Church sighed as he turned it off.

After giving it some thought, Church typed into his phone.

“I’m not really sure what to say, love. To be honest, I’m not sure how I fucked…” He stop and removed “fucked” and after some thought, “how I”. “I’m not sure what I did wrong, but obviously I messed up last night. So I want to apologize and I will try to do things better next time.”

Church looked it over and reread it twice. He wasn’t really thrilled with it, but he couldn’t think of anything better to say, so he hit send.

He pulled his covers off to Mistie’s annoyance and hopped out of bed.

“All right, cat. Time for breakfast!”

Chapter Text

Church pulled up to Dorothy’s building a little more quickly than he ought to. Dorothy was looking anxious, but her big beautiful smile was there.

Church ran out of the car and started opening back. “Dorothy, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be so late. It’s just that…”

“So it was a good date last night?!” she asked with a bigger smile.

“I told you. We’re just….”

Dorothy seemed to brush away his voice with his hand. “Right. Right. So how did the night with your female *friend* go?” She stressed the word “friend”.

As Church picked up her bags and put them in the trunk, he shrugged her shoulders at her with an unconscious grimace on his face.

“Oh my! That bad, huh?”

Church just gave a wry smile, shook his head, and opened the passenger door for Dorothy.

“Thank you, Winson.” Dorothy refused to call him Church.

Church closed the door gently, but firmly behind Dorothy. Then ran around to his side.

As Church stepped into the car, Dorothy turned to him and said, “Okay, so what went wrong?”

“Dorothy, can we just not? Please?”

Dorothy held a placating hand up.

Church started the car. To ease the tension, Church asked, “How about we play that Stax Records playlist you like so much?”

“That would be very nice. Thank you,” Dorothy responded with a smile.

Then Dorothy started talking about different things the song reminded her of and the history of the artists, while Church listened with rapt attention, enjoying her blend of personal and musical history.

Chapter Text

Jen woke up and checked her phone. It was already past noon, Good thing that she didn’t have anything planned today, She set her phone down.

Her room was still almost completely dark. She had some black-out curtains to keep the room dark and help her sleep. And she kept a furry, stuffed snake she named Ssssam at the bottom of the door to keep any light from coming in that way.

She reached over to where her nightstand should be, patting it with her hand until she found her phone. She pulled out the charger, placed her finger on the back to open it, and looked at what messages are there.

She sees two from Church. She thinks about reading them, but after hovering over them for a few seconds, she brushes them aside.

She sees a message from a Susan. Trying to think of what Susan she knows, she suddenly remembers she gave Church’s Susan her number. What was she thinking?!

She quickly shuts that message and brushes it aside.

There’s one from Nthabiseng marked 8:43am saying if she awakes soon, breakfast is ready.

Then there was one from Palesa reminding her that she promised to help with her math this weekend and asking when would be a good time.

The next was from her co-worker, Mitra, saying his wife, Jing, has been asking all morning if he’s heard anything about her night out. Jen slams her head back into her pillow and sighs.

Tom, a fellow punk rock fan in her trans support group who even has a mohawk, was checking in on her since she had missed the last two meetings.

And she had skipped her last therapy session, so her therapist, Becky, is going to be on her back. Probably get that text Monday morning. Becky really wouldn’t nag her. She was laid back even for a therapist. But she would be disappointed and kindly remind Jen the importance of attending therapy and support groups regularly.

Jen could hear Nthabiseng and the girls making lunch in the kitchen. She knew, sooner or later, Nthabiseng would knock on the door and invite herself in, checking on her to make sure her depression was getting the better of her.

Sometimes, Nthabiseng could be a bit too much, but it was hard to get mad at her, because she had obviously met it when she first told Jen that she was her little sister from then on.

And from what she heard from Nthabiseng, Basotho big sisters take on a lot of the mothering chores to help with their big families. Nthabiseng was the oldest daughter and second child of a family of ten freaking children!

As Nthabiseng said with a smile, “My family was Catholic!”

Nthabiseng kept talking about bringing Jen along next time they visited Lesotho. But Ntabiseng came from the mountains where her people were more traditional and might have trouble with Jen’s trans status.

But Nthabiseng had looked seriously in Jen’s eyes and said, “Ka ‘nete, sister! If anybody gives you any trouble whatsoever, I will make sure they are dealt with!” Then she followed it with another “ka ‘nete” which meant “truly” or “really” and Nthabiseng dragged that the ‘a’ out and hooked her index fingers together and shook her hand, which Jen took to mean a deep promise or something.

Jen scrolls on Facebook for a little bit. Nthabiseng posted a selfie with her two daughters sleeping on her as they had waited for Jen. A bunch of comments in Sesotho from her relatives under it,

A friend request from both Susan and Joyce. Joyce added a message, “At last, a queer sister in the group! I’m so excited!”

Mitra posted a pic of Jing and his high school daughter working in their garden this morning. Jen wasn’t sure if she was being racist, but she always thought their daughter, June, had the best Indian and Chinese features of her parents.

Jen gave a smile as she remembers Mitra explaining the bruhaha that developed back home in India when they learned he was going to marry a Chinese woman! Jing’s parents were apparently a little surprised, but happy for her.

Jen went to Susan’s profile page and was relieved to see she hadn’t post the selfie the four of them took in the bathroom.

Jen set her phone down, and to no surprise to her, heard a knock on her door, and saw it open with bright light streaming in her room. That was followed by: “Good morning, ausi!”

Jen put her arm over her eyes and said, “Good morning, sis!”

“We’ve made lunch if you would like to get out of bed. Palesa was also asking about when you were going to help with her math. I offered, but, of course, she utterly refused and said she would wait for you!’

Then Nthabiseng added, “A che! Teenagers!”

“Okay, give me a few minutes. I’ll get up and join you and not let lay depressed in my darkened room.”

“Okay, dear. You just asked to help you do what your therapist suggested.”

Jen sighed. “Yes, I did. You’re right. Thank you! I promise I'll be out in fifteen minutes!”

Nthabiseng smiled and nodded and closed the door for Jen, only now Ssssam had been moved and a light came in from under the door. Jen sighed again and sat up.

Chapter Text

Church and Dorothy walked through the Costco, with him pushing the cart for Dorothy.

He admired how Dorothy stuck to her politics. Preferring to shop at Costco and refusing to go to WalMart. He tried to stick to his politics and values, but he still shopped at WalMart on occasion.

Dorothy stood in front of the toilet. She was doing math in her head to see how much cheaper the toilet paper on sale was compared to her regular brand and trying to decide if it was really worth it.

Church was amazed at how Dorothy could calculate almost anything in her head. Before she retired, she was an engineer of airplanes or something like that. She had many stories of being a black woman in that predominantly white, male field.

Church knew she was considering whether the savings was worth the loss in quality. It almost never was, but she would still go through this ritual every time.

While she was busy doing that, Church glanced at his phone.

“She still hasn’t replied?” She had made her decision quicker than Church expected and she caught him looking.

His face must have given him away. Church knew better than to act stupid and pretend he didn’t know what she was talking about. Dorothy was, in a lot of ways, like the crazy aunt that introduced him into punk and alternative music.

Church let out a sigh, followed by a very Midwestern, “Yeah.” His mother teased him mercilessly about picking that up!

“Okay, look, you know all about my disastrous dating history. It’s time for you to spill some dirt!”

Dorothy put the toilet paper she bought almost every single time in the cart and they started walking.

Church pondered for a bit, trying to decide where to begin.

“Okay, you know that bird from high school that I've been texting with?”

“And went out with, too!” added Dorothy with a smile.

She picked up a couple of items as they talked and put them in the cart.

“Yes. I did that as well.”

Church paused for a second. He didn’t understand why this was so hard for him to say. He wasn’t a transphobe. He believed trans women were women. This should be a nonissue!

But somehow, it wasn’t.

“Well, I’m really not sure how to say this…”

Dorothy just let Church take his time.

“She wasn’t always a bird. She used to be a lad.”

Dorothy raised her eyebrows.

“Back when you knew her in high school?”

Church let out another Midwestern “Yeah.”

Dorothy gave a small nod of acknowledgment.

She and Church walked in silence for a little bit.

“So did you two not get along in high school?” Dorothy asked.

Church chuckled. “No. We were best friends! We were inseparable!’

After a short pause, Church added, “There were some rumors we were gay lovers.”

Dorothy gave a small smile at that. “So is this why….?”

“Why what?’

“Sorry, go on.”

“I’m not homophobic. I didn’t care if Jack was gay or not. He was my mate!” Then after a second, “Friend as you say in America!”

Dorothy laid her fingers on her arms. “I got it, hun.”

Dorothy prodded, “Okay, so you were male best friends in high school. And now Jack is Jen.”

“Yes. I mean that doesn’t bother me. If Jen is happier that way, I’m happy for her. But it is taking some adjustment and getting used to.”

Dorothy looked thoughtful for a while.

She laid her fingers on his arm again. “You know the Uncle Bob I’ve talked about.”

Church and Dorothy had talked a lot about each other’s family on the drives together.

“Yes, he sounds like he was quite the character.”

“Oh, dear, trust me! He was!”

They walked and picked up some things in a silence for a while, Church could tell Dorothy was deep in thought and gave her time. He knew she would speak up when she was ready. He had seen her like this before.

Then out of nowhere, Dorothy added, “Bob’s birth name was Roberta.”