A Proper Young Lady (25 page)

“We’re not kids anymore, Dani.”

She arranges the cloth over my head—just so—the way I always did when we were young. With the top hat at sort of an odd angle on her head, she kneels in front of me. “Marry me.” The yearning in her eyes insists the girl isn’t joking. 

Don’t you get it? None of this is real.
One hand drifts up to the emptiness at my throat. We were serious about our future. Once. Long ago. A brain injury—nothing more—led us back to an impossible dream. Will broken memories forever haunt the girl? As they do me?
It’s all from a blow to your head, Dani.
I want to laugh at the insanity of her proposal, weep at the damage the wreck did to her brain, but the sudden terror behind the girl’s eyes clamps a hand over my mouth.
What do I say that won’t hurt you more?
“Ethan adores you, Dani. Don’t waste your life chasing stupid childhood fantasies.” 

The girl leans close and kisses me on the forehead and again, on the nose. “Our promise—our love—was real. Was it not?” 

“Well, yeah.”
Still is.
 

Dani kisses me on the mouth. Her lips whisper memories of the boy I lost. My heart drinks it in. Me. Daniel. Together. But there’s no tomorrow. ‘Cause he’s gone. Forever. I ease back from her embrace and shake my head. “It’s over, Dani.”

Somewhere behind those dreamy eyes burns the desire to use what God placed between her legs—that little bit of manhood. Daniel’s shadow falls heavy across her feminine face now. And yet no surgeon’s blade can divide male from female, he from she. What a cruel schizophrenia to try to force on her. She isn’t two people. 

Dani rises and stands with her back to the fire. “All my life, people have encouraged me to choose boy or girl. Well, I’ve decided.” She plops down on the couch again and slides close. “I’m happy with my body and my gender as they are—princess, little boy, father of your children. Ethan will never accept that. But you already do.” 

“Well yeah.”

“Will you, then?”

“Will I what?”

“Be me trouble an’ strife. Me better ‘alf, luv.”

Marry you?

Ethan wouldn’t accept Dani fathering children. Am I any better, dreaming of the boy? The pretend one at that?

I tug at one sleeve of Dani’s gown, till it slides off her shoulder and down her arm. Daniel’s breasts had already started to bud when we made our promise. Why should the blossoms bother me? Would it be such a big deal to admit I love all of her?

It still can’t happen.
“No way your parents will let us get married.” 

Those violet eyes track my every emotion. Dani grins in triumph and hops up off the couch, sending her top-hat rolling across the floor. “But you want to.” She urges me to my feet and pulls me close, her whole body demanding I surrender. “Admit it.”

My hand creeps down to my belly for reassurance of my sanity.
Dani’s babies.
“Well, yeah. But how?” 

She glances toward the door. “I have some ideas, but let’s get you to bed.”

Chapter 29

Dànaidh

Morning arrives too early. With my arms still around Melanie’s waist, I press my face into her ginger tresses and wait for one of the babies to move.

What do my psychologists know of life? They showed me videos—they called them educational—of couples having intercourse. “Which of the two would you like to be?” they asked. 

I cried and hid my eyes, not understanding the rough, almost violent passion flowing from the screen. On my pretend honeymoons with Melanie, our lovemaking was soft touches and tender kisses.

One of my children shifts position beneath my hand. Thanksgiving and contentment overwhelm me. As Ethan’s wife, I would have missed this glorious experience.

I ease my arms from around Melanie, press my lips against her cheek, and slide out of bed. After a quick shower, I dress in a soft and feminine skirt suit—something appropriate for meeting with executives. 

My portfolio rests on the dresser. During the few weeks I lived as Daniel, Daddy spent father-son time with me, teaching me about his business. Randy opened an online trading account using some of the money from the trust fund, and my father taught me how to buy and sell stocks.

After I returned to being Danièle, we never talked about business again. Daughters were to be protected, pampered, and trained in the art of keeping a household. Don’t worry your pretty little head about that, Mum replied whenever I asked about Daddy’s ventures.

Everyone forgot about my account. Except me. In my portfolio are itemized lists of stocks and bonds—the results of all I’ve learned about the market. When I sell the stocks, the funds will provide for my little family until I finish college. I thumb through the folders one last time before heading downstairs for breakfast. 

My father spends most weekdays in his study. Business partners join him via the video-conference room. A few times a month he travels to one manufacturing plant or another. I tap on his door and poke my head in. “May I speak with you?”

Daddy looks up from writing something and gives me a tender smile. “Why of course, love.” He drops his pen, stands, and waves me to a seat. “What can I do for my little girl?”

“A number of years ago, you and Uncle Randolph opened a brokerage account for me—for Daniel.” 

He nods, but his eyes look well beyond the room. Perhaps into the past, because he says, “My boy showed an interest in the markets. I wanted to encourage him.”

Always the disconnect between Daniel and me.
I’m the same person, Daddy.
“After I—you stopped teaching me about stocks.” 

“Your mother thought you’d be happier studying manners, and dance, and other things a young lady should master.”

Silence hangs in the air between us, a thick mass that keeps me from speaking. I tried a hundred times to tell my father who I was and always retreated in fear—that I’d hurt him, that he wouldn’t understand, that he’d reject me. Or perhaps I was afraid to admit to myself that I was never entirely a boy or a girl. 

Melanie understands. Melanie, the mother of my children. Melanie, my one true love. I take a deep breath and start my pitch. “Melanie and I are getting married. I’d like your blessing.”

Almost apologetic, he shakes his head. “I wish the surrogacy had worked out. The best thing for everyone involved now is to find a proper home for the babies.”

I close my eyes and pray that God will grant my father an understanding heart. “They’re my children, Daddy. What would you do if someone you loved more than life itself was pregnant with your babies?”

Only the ticking of the wall clock disturbs the silence as Daddy’s face grows somber. He married Mum over his parents’ objections when she was pregnant with me.

He glances away before speaking. “I’m not blind to the happiness you two shared in the hospital. But your mother and I want you to move on with your recovery.” A painful hardness spreads across his face. “You’ve made no progress this week. I was going to send you to a rehabilitation center in Richmond, but your mother thinks a hospital in Cambridge will be better. You’ll have company there.”

“Ethan.”

“He’s agreed to visit you daily beginning next week.”

“When do I leave?”

“Tomorrow. Your flight departs an hour after Melanie’s.”

“But I don’t love Ethan, Daddy.”

“I know.” He walks around the desk and pulls me into one of his giant teddy bear hugs. “Give him—and your heart—one last chance though, will you?” 

No.
“Let me say a proper goodbye to Melanie, then.” 

Daddy’s gentle frown sums up his opinion of my relationship with her. “Do whatever you must. But make this the end of it.”

I rush back to Melanie’s room, but she’s not there. Not in the quiet of the solarium. Not under the fair sky and winter sun of the garden. Not in the dark warmth of the den. Nowhere in the barren wilderness of my life.

Melanie

Packing doesn’t take long. The Welles bought me a bunch of maternity clothes, but I keep only my old jeans, some tops, and a couple of dresses. I stuff them all into the fancy shoulder bag Dani bought me.

Somebody took the Cinderella dress, probably downstairs to storage. No way the thing would fit into my bag, anyhow. And I don’t need fancy stuff.

With soap, hot water, and some petroleum jelly, I finally get the wedding band off my finger. I almost leave it on the dresser, but then figure I should give the ring back to Dani. I owe the girl that much.

I don’t buy any of those happily-ever-after endings. Once I leave Virginia, I’ll never see Dani again. Mrs. Welles will make damned sure of that. So I stand in the doorway of the little room I call my home and study every last detail.

Drops patter against the metal roof—the beginnings of one more winter storm. I walk over to the window seat and scan the barren garden. The old walnut tree waves an arm at me—a solemn goodbye. Now and forever. 

No more dreams, but I’ll have memories.
I nod once to my old friend and walk out into the hallway. I ease the door shut and make my way to the kitchen. 

They all stare, but nobody greets me. Not even Jake smiles. I get a great big bear hug from Mr. Welles, but his eyes hold some faraway sadness. Mrs. Welles says her polite goodbyes and lies about wishing I would stay.

Miss Danièle Aileana Welles is dressed to the nines for her trip to see Ethan and his mother, but her face has lost the joy we shared the other night. Her eyes say nothing at all about her promise—Daniel’s old promise—to marry me.
Like that’ll ever happen.
 

And the Marine—wonder he doesn’t break his teeth, he clenches his jaw so hard. 

Are we all in some stupid soap opera or what? Glad I’m bustin’ outta this place.

I follow Cooper to the Escalade, slide into the back seat, and chill while Dani hugs her parents and all. As soon as the girl slams the door, Cooper starts the car, and we drive out the fancy iron gates. Victoria Springs Manor fades into the distance. And into my past. Dead. Like everything else in my world. Never to return.

“Don’t give up on your dreams. We’ll be back here someday. Together.” Dani’s eyes urge me to trust her. To let myself get burned one last time.

“I’m all out of hope.” I put my wedding band into the palm of her hand and close her fingers around the ring. “No more impossible dreams.”

Dani must read the pain in my eyes, because she draws me close and pulls my head against her shoulder. “Be patient, love. A few days more.”

I snuggle as close as the twins will allow.
Just hold me.
 

“Can we stop at the DMV?”

I peek out of my hiding place to see Dani’s hand on the intercom button.

“What do you need?” Cooper’s voice.

“I still have the dorm address on my license. And I should cancel the motorcycle tags.”

“All right.”

Silence again. I burrow back into the softness of her shoulder. Time slides away till a steady thump-thump takes over from the asphalt rumble. I poke my head up again.
Yeah, the old bridge across the river.
 

We stop a few minutes later, and Cooper drops us off in front of a brick building. “Don’t be all day.”

Department of Motor Vehicles
—I follow Dani inside and mosey over to a chair. She goes straight to the nearest open position. Soon the girl has everybody who works in the place collected around her. Like she’s a celebrity or something. When she points at me, they all gape like they’ve never seen a pregnant girl before.
Yeah. Nod. Whatever. Like I care.
 

Finally, they wave her over to a camera. Somebody musta complained about her hat, because she pulls it off and shows them where the pressure sensor was. A small group gathers again before some big shot sends them all scurrying.

Dani waves her new license at me like she’s never had one before.
About time.
“What was all the drama for?” 

“I didn’t want them to take a new photo until my hair grew out again.”

“Yeah. Guess not.”

A few minutes later, we’re back on the road. Two hours, maybe three, before my flight leaves. I press my head into her shoulder again and snake a hand around her back.

Two hours, maybe three, and I’ll never feel her touch again. Dani unbuttons the front of my dress and spreads warm fingers across my baby bump.

Two hours, maybe three—somebody weeps like a little kid. 

The girl kisses my cheek, then my ear, and pulls me tight.

We stay in our own little time warp, oblivious to the outside world. Till the Escalade stops, and Cooper opens the door. Dani kisses me one last time, steps out of the car, and offers me a hand.

The girl acts a little strange when we check our luggage, insisting she use her phone for the boarding pass rather than the paper one Jake printed for her.

When we get to the security checkpoint, Dani gives Cooper a big hug. “Thanks. I’ll accompany Melanie to her gate.”

Cooper’s grin reminds me of my old high school principal—or a prison guard. The Marine holds up a boarding pass. “I promised your mother I’d see you both aboard your flights.” 

Bitch.

Dani shoots me an exasperated glance, but gets in line.

A couple of minutes later, we find our way to B15—DL2452 to Atlanta. I plop down into a chair beside Dani. The girl belongs in bed. “You okay?” 

“Yes, love. A wee bit knackered is all.”

What gives your mother the right to crush our dreams?

The girl starts playing with her phone.

Our last hour together, and all you can do is look at the Internet? What is wrong with you?
“What am I gonna do, Dani?” 

She glances up, but keeps right on typing. “You’ll be fine, love.”

The money Mom gave me won’t last long enough. I can’t mooch off my sister for the rest of my life. And I don’t wanna give up our babies.

Way too soon, the airline lady announces our departure. “Anyone needing assistance may board at this time.” She looks right at me. Like I might need help or something.