His Fair Lady (11 page)

Next Josie examined her hands and feet. They weren’t small, but neither was the rest of her. Kierra had both large hands and feet, though she didn’t seem self-conscious about them.

Josie swallowed, making her Adam’s apple bob. Although it didn’t stick out too much, it was the one feature that caused her the most anxiety. Almost all her necklines were cut to draw attention away from her throat, but she had some that were not.

All in all she thought she passed pretty well. So how had Kierra Feni guessed?

Josie shook her head. It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t let it matter, because as nice as it would be to have an older transwoman to act as mentor and role model, she simply wasn’t ready to be “out and proud,” as they said. She wasn’t sure she ever would be.

She could feel the steady thud, thud, thud of her pulse, a consistent stinging ache in her cut hand. Gingerly she peered at it, but no blood was visible. She would call Kyle and have him pick her up. But when she reached for her phone, she realized all her stuff—jacket, bag, phone—were still in Kierra’s office. She would have to go back and get them before she could call Kyle. But first she had to pee.

Josie crossed to the row of stalls, chose one at random, went inside, and closed the door. The latch hung slightly askew, and she spent several seconds jiggling it before it caught.

Up came her skirt and down went her tights and underwear. As she finished doing her business, she heard the door to the ladies’ room open. Footsteps crossed the tile, and a woman’s voice echoed off the walls.

“I told him it wasn’t going to happen.” Pause. “No, there’s no way.”

Whoever she was, she was on the phone.

Josie stood, reached back, and flushed. Still half-turned to the side, she began to tuck herself away. But as she reached for her tights and underwear, the door to the stall burst open.

Josie and the other woman both squealed in surprise. Josie gave the intruder her back and jerked her skirt down to cover herself.

“Whoops! Sorry.”

The door slammed shut, and the woman hurried down the row of stalls to the farthest one.

Shaken, Josie sat down on the toilet and waited until she was once again alone in the bathroom.

What had she seen? Maybe nothing. It had been awfully quick, and the woman had seemed almost as embarrassed as Josie herself. It had been so quick, she wasn’t even sure who the other girl was. But she needed to know.

Josie got herself together and hurried to the door. She pushed it open a crack and peered out. Down the hall she saw three figures huddled together outside Kierra Feni’s office. Two of them she didn’t know. The third was Vi Markowitz.

Chapter Eight

“It wasn’t that bad, Joes.” Mark reached for Josie’s hand as they turned onto the brick path that led away from the Little Theatre following a less than stellar rehearsal.

“It totally was that bad and then some.” Josie’s tone was morose, but she let him take her hand.

“Everybody has an off day. It happens. When you’re not concentrating, you miss cues and stuff.”

“What makes you think I wasn’t concentrating?”

Uh-oh. Now she was defensive.

“Nothing. But it was sort of obvious you had something on your mind.” Now if only he could get her to tell him what the something else was.

“I thought you said it wasn’t that bad.”

“It wasn’t. You missed a few cues, forgot a line or two. It happens to everybody.”

Josie stopped, forcing Mark to stop as well. She yanked her hand from his, turned to face him, and enumerated on her fingers.

“First, I missed four cues. Second, I had to call for a line six times. And third, I nearly fell on my ass when we were doing the tango. It was horrible.”

She spun on her heel and stalked on without him.

Grr.

Mark caught the leash on his temper and reined it in before it could get the better of him. Clearly she was upset and spoiling for fight. It wouldn’t help anything if he gave her one.

He considered calling after her to wait up, then nixed the idea. In her present mood she’d probably break into a run. He quickened his steps and easily caught up with her.

“My car’s in the residence center lot.”

“You don’t have to drive me home. I can walk.”

“I know I don’t have to. I want to. Don’t argue.” This last was said when he saw she was about to do just that. “Just c’mon.”

To his surprise, she didn’t argue but followed him to his car and slid into the passenger seat without another word.

The drive passed in silence, Josie staring out the window and Mark stewing behind the wheel. By the time they turned onto her street, it was obvious she had no intention of sharing what was bothering her.

Who cared anyway?

It was nothing to him. He would just drop her off and drive away. See ya. He didn’t need her crap. He had his own crap to deal with. So he’d pull up outside her house, let her out, make sure she got inside okay, and he’d leave.

Fine. That’s just what he would do.

Mark cut the wheels sharply in toward the curb and stomped on the brake.

“Thanks for the ride.” Josie reached for the door handle.

“Joes, wait.”

She already had the door open and one leg outside the car. But she paused, half turning. Her face was a question mark, and her eyes were filled with worry.

If it was only worry, he might have said never mind and let her go. But there was unhappiness there too, and it hurt his heart to see it.

Mark reached out. He slid his fingers into her hair and cupped her cheek. “What’s wrong, baby?”

She leaned her cheek into his hand. Her skin felt warm and soft against his palm. She closed her eyes, and her lower lip trembled. When she spoke, her voice was no more than a whisper.

“Everything.”

Run, a voice in Mark’s head advised. Weepy woman at three o’clock. So get the hell out of there if you know what’s good for you, pal.

Mark leaned across the gearshift and pulled Josie into his arms. She didn’t resist but came easily and rested her head on his shoulder, which told him more than any words could that what was bothering her was more than a little female angstiness.

Her breath, at first even and slow, grew harsh and uneven. When the first sob broke, he tightened his arms around her. He said nothing, because what was there to say? Instead he stroked her hair and rubbed her back and waited for the storm to blow itself out. At last it did, and she was quiet and still against his chest.

“Better now?” he asked and pressed his lips into her hair.

She nodded and sniffed. “I guess. Yeah.”

“You want to talk about it?” He’d rather hit himself on the head with a hammer than talk about it, whatever it was, but he could man up. Still, when she shook her head, relief was sweet even if it had a definite guilty flavor.

“I’m just having a lousy day.”

She was lying. He knew it, and she might even know he knew it, but Mark let it go and settled for action instead.

“I’m coming in with you.” He opened the door on his side of the car.

“You don’t have to.”

“Stop telling me what I don’t have to do! I’m going to take care of you, and you’re going to let me.”

“Kyle’s probably home. He can—”

“Kyle schmyle. Kyle can bite me.”

Josie laughed. “He might like that a little too much.”

Mark felt heat rise to his cheeks. He had no idea what to say to that, so he got out of the car and slammed the door.

KYLE WAS HOME. His laughter echoed down the stairs. Josie heard it as well as the sound of his voice as she and Mark climbed the last flight up to her apartment. It sounded like somebody was in there with Kyle, but she couldn’t tell who. Josie stuck her keys in the pocket of her jacket before reaching for the doorknob.

She opened the door and, with Mark close behind, stepped into her living room and froze. Mark ran into her back, and Josie stumbled forward a step.

At least now she knew who Ky had been laughing with. Her mother sat on the couch, a mug of something in one hand. Kyle sat beside her, also holding a mug and mirroring her pose. They both looked up, twin smiles turning to frowns as they got a look at Josie.

Crap!

“Sorry, have to pee really bad.” Josie dashed for the hallway, reached the bathroom, and only then tossed a “Hi, Mom” back over her shoulder before she slammed the door.

Leaning back against the wood, she closed her eyes. What was her mother doing here? Then she remembered the conversation from weeks ago.

This weekend was spring festival, though the weather still felt more like winter, and her mom had promised to come for a visit that very weekend. Under normal circumstances she would never have forgotten such a promise. She might even have dissuaded her mom with the proper reassurances and claim of being “too busy to breathe.” But she had forgotten, and now here was her mom with her suitcase and her ever-present container of homemade whatever. Not that she’d seen the “container,” but her mom never went anywhere without some food item prepared by her own hands.

God, her mom was here! And she was in the living room with Mark!

Not alone, at least. Kyle was in there. The traitor. Why hadn’t he texted her that her mom was here? She would have to hurt him. Later.

Right now she had to clean herself up, comb her hair, and put on her happy face.

Josie had just finished with the concealer and was dragging a brush through her hair when someone tapped softly on the door. Oh God, it was her mother. But no, her mom would have just barged in. It must be Kyle. Josie opened the door a crack.

“Are you okay? Why were you crying? Did he do something? Want me to kick his ass?”

Josie snorted a laugh and pitched her voice low for his ears alone. “Oh Kyle! Let’s see, in order of questions asked: I’m fine. I’m fine. Maybe I’m crying because I’m PMSing. Mark didn’t do anything. And no, I do not want you to kick his ass. I do, however, want to know why you didn’t tell me my mother was here.”

This last was spoken in a scolding hiss.

“I texted you, girlfriend. Where the hell was your phone?”

“In my bag, turned off since I was at rehearsal. You know we can’t have phones on at rehearsal.”

“So what was I supposed to do, contact you by owl?”

“I don’t know. Telepathy. Something!”

Kyle shrugged. “Well, she’s here now. You can’t exactly tell her to go home.”

Josie bit her lip. “I’ll tell her I have a paper to write and it’s due Monday. If she knows I’ll be shut up in the library all weekend—”

“Joes, you can’t lie to her like that.”

“What are you kids doing back there?” Josie’s mother appeared at the living room end of the hallway.

“Nothing, Mama Geri.” Kyle sent Josie’s mother a smile that was all innocence. “I was just helping Josie with something.”

“Well, come out and join us. I’m brewing more tea, and I’ve broken out the peanut butter-oatmeal cookies.”

“Mmm, cookies. We’ll be right there.” Kyle grabbed Josie by the hand and pulled her out of the bathroom. “C’mon, we’ll go eat cookies. It’ll be fine.”

“Says you,” Josie muttered. But she followed him down the hall and back to the living room.

Mark sat on the couch, a mug of tea in one hand and a cookie in the other. Three additional mugs and a plate of cookies sat on the coffee table. It looked so cozy and normal.

A lump formed in Josie’s throat, and she blinked back a sudden rush of tears, hopefully before anyone saw.

But her mother had keen sight and an uncanny ability to sense emotional upheaval, especially her daughter’s. Josie feigned obliviousness. She crossed the room, picked up a mug and a cookie, and settled on the couch, leaving enough distance between herself and Mark for another person to sit.

No one did.

“So,” her mother said, her tone way too casual. “Mark tells me you and he are in a show together.
My Fair Lady
, is it, Mark?”

Hurriedly Mark swallowed a bite of cookie. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Ma’am! Oh, honey, call me Geri, please.” She turned to Josie. “He said you’re playing Eliza. Is that the part you were auditioning for and said you probably wouldn’t get?”

“Yeah, though after how I screwed up today at rehearsal, I wouldn’t be surprised if they kicked me off the cast.”

She didn’t bother to explain that you didn’t audition for a particular role. It didn’t seem relevant.

“Joes, it wasn’t that bad, I told you.” Mark reached out as if he meant to touch her, then seemed to think better of it and let his hand drop.

“What happened at rehearsal?” Kyle asked.

“Nothing,” Josie said. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

But Mark picked up the thread. “She was distracted. She missed a couple cues and forgot a line or two. It was no big deal.”

“Is that why you were crying?” her mother asked.

“I wasn’t— Oh hell! Okay, I was crying. But it was only partially that. I have a ton of work to do, plus the play, plus my Acting Shakespeare class. I’m just stressed out.” Josie sipped her tea and geared herself up to lie. “In fact, Mom, I have a paper I have to write this weekend. So I probably won’t even be able to do any festival stuff with you. I’m going to be in the library the whole time.”

“What paper? You didn’t say anything about a paper.”

Although she didn’t look at him—she knew he’d see the lie all over her face—Josie heard Mark’s surprise in his voice.

“It’s for astronomy. I forgot about it. That’s why I’m going to be working on it all weekend.”

Across the room, Kyle swatted at the seat of his jeans as if he were putting out a fire.

Oh brother. Josie ignored him.

“So, Mom, I won’t even be able to spend any time with you. I’m really sorry.”

Her mother sipped her tea, then set the mug on the table. “Well, sweetie, I certainly understand if you need to work. But you know me. I can entertain myself during the day; then, when you’re ready for a break, we can have dinner together. In fact, Mark, why don’t you join us tomorrow night? I’ll take you and Kyle and my daughter someplace nice, and we can all get acquainted, and you and Josie can tell me all about the show.”

Mark slid a sideways glance at Josie and cleared his throat. “That would be really nice, Mrs.—I mean, Geri. But I have a ton of work to do myself, plus my mother’s coming up tomorrow for the day. There’s a craft fair in town she wants to go to; then I promised to take her to the spring concert here on campus.”