Tg Stories
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Tg Stories
Being a widowed mom is difficult enough. But things are especially challenging for Dani as she navigates life viewed through the twin prisms of self-doubt and unmerited shame as a transgender woman. Life might be kind to others, but that would be someone else's story...
Categories: Realistic Gender Change Characters: Male to Female, Adult (27-62 yrs)
Locale: Family Household Sexual Orientation: Does Not Change Story Type: Includes Images Story Theme: Everyday Living , Romance
Series: None
Chapters: 2 Completed: Completed Story
Word count: 17975 Read: 1068
Published: 07/08/22 Updated: 07/08/22
Part One - Marta's Story Long ago In someone else's lifetime Someone with my name Who looked a lot like me Mainline Deli and General Store, Augusta, New Jersey, Mid-August, 2017... Dani had just finished cleaning both slicers and she looked up at the clock. 7:45 pm. There were almost never any customers looking for a sandwich or salads so soon to closing, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She noticed her reflection in the chrome-clad toaster on the counter as she finished cleaning. Shaking her head at the image while forgetting the distortion, she sighed again. Her relief was short-lived. “Excuse me?” Dani turned to find a slight looking person standing close to the meat case, eyes barely above the top. “Yes?” The person hesitated, prompting Dani to add, “Can I help you….uh…?” “Uh… it’s…” “Would you like something?” Dani hadn’t meant to be abrupt, but she nevertheless added, ‘Young man!” “Uh…My name is Marta.... Sigrúndóttir.” Her voice trailed off as she glanced down at the floor, leaving Dani looking around for a place to hide. “It’s….I mean, I get that all the time.” Marta pulled back the hood on her sweatshirt, revealing a dark-brown- haired tom-boyish looking girl, or so she appeared. “I’m sorry…we don’t get too many...” “Strangers?” Marta’s half smile added to the lifeline she threw to Dani. “OH…yes… strangers. ” “Uh…Will you be going to High Point in September?” Dani looked at the clock. 7:50. She grabbed a pad, but secretly hoped Marta would ask for a pre-made salad or sandwich; completely missing Marta’s nodding ‘yes.’ “How’s the tuna salad?” “Uh…Mostly gone and sitting there since around seven this morning. Ham and cheese okay?” Dani held up one of the sandwiches from the case; likely sitting around as long as the tuna salad. She wasn’t trying to be rude, but she had promised to pick up her daughter Kiera at her sister’s promptly at 8:30. “No…that’s okay. I can grab something up the street at the pizza place.” Marta turned to go, but Dani walked around from behind the case, attempting to wipe her hands with a towel. She went to greet Marta, but pulled back as she noticed her hands were still wet. Marta held up her hand close to her chest and waved, as if to say 'it's okay.' “What grade are you in?” Dani looked over Marta's shoulder, as if to see all the way to the school. “Junior year….” Marta half smiled. “I guess I’ll see you around,” she added as she walked out, laughing softly to herself. She ambled across the parking lot and climbed into her Wrangler, glad that she had left the top off. She started it up and looked into the rear view mirror to back up, but instead stared vacantly while frowning. After a few minutes she shook her head, “I teach Junior fucking English Literature and Composition….Why the fuck didn’t I just say I fucking teach English.” Marta looked once more at her reflection before gazing down at her flat chest. "Well, she got that right. What the fuck is someone 'like me' teaching English Lit in East Jabib?" She drew the hood of her sweatshirt back up as if to render appearance more suitable. “Oh fuck,” she murmured as she swung the Wrangler around. As she pulled out of the parking lot, she glanced once again at the mirror, which revealed the woman she had just talked to walking to her own car. As the image grew smaller, she grabbed a cigarette from the pack on the console, lighting it “I don’t even know her fucking name,” she said as she took a drag from the cigarette. Marta looked up past the roll bar to her right. With little ambient light, she noticed the sky was literally crowded with celestial light, but a saying inserted its way rudely into her thoughts. “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves,” which she completely missed in its context, allowing her to lapse into her lack of self-esteem to define the moment. “Oh fuck,” she said as she tossed the cigarette out of the Jeep; its red spark pretty much the only light in sight as the store grew small in her side mirror. She quickly glanced downward once again, but further below. “Well, it’s not like I know exactly what I want,” she sighed as tears streamed down her cheeks, prompting her to wipe her face with her right sleeve. “Oh fuck,’ she said, not as an expletive so much as a cry of surrender. She pulled into the darkened vacant lot about two miles from the store and parked the Jeep, turning off the lights, and leaving her practically bathed in starlight. Marta looked up at the sky once again before resting her head on the steering wheel as she sobbed; her cries occasionally interrupted with her condemnation of choice. “Oh fuck me….” Part Two - Dani's Story In a way It's someone else's story I don't see myself As taking part at all The home of Lisa Fernandez, an early afternoon in late August, 2017… Dani sat at Lisa’s kitchen table. Lisa walked in and sat down. “Kiera and Maria told to me to tell you that Kiera’s staying over,” Lisa said with a laugh and a shrug. “Well,” Dani said as she looked down the hallway to her niece’s room. “They are in charge." Lisa nodded. Two near-twin eleven-year-old cousins who asked for so very little merited at least a nod, even if their moms did indulge them now and then. Two military widows so to speak; single moms who still refused to lapse into self-pity. “Mommy wants to know when you’ll come by,” Lisa raised her left eyebrow ever so slightly in anticipation of Dani’s usual reply. “How about you take Kiera there when you and Maria go?” Dani looked away, expecting a rebuke. “Sure, Dee… You know…” “I know. She’s not ready. I get it. But after five years, Leesy? It hurts. After everything? ” “She loves you, Dee… She’s just set in her ways. And yes, I know that her telling me to tell you that she still loves you can’t make everything all better.” “It’s not like all this…” Dani paused and looked all around, as if to see outside and past time and space. “None of this was new…It only changed…” Dani gasped. After six years, the pain of widowhood still poked her heart at all-too-inopportune moments. “I get so confused about it all and then I feel guilty about Kiera. She doesn’t deserve this.” As if to compound her guilt, Dani patted her chest hard. “Stop that this instant. Kiera is so blessed, and if you quit beating yourself up, you’d know it. Hell. All I have to deal with is that Maria’s Dad decided he wanted to stay in Germany. He comes home more often now, so I’m only an Air Force widow through re-enlistment.” Lisa bit her lip and sighed, “Dani? Sis? You lost the love of your life.” “Kiera lost her mom, Leese…there’s no making up for that.” “She still has you, Dee. She lost Angela and that will never change…I get that.” “She should never have been over there. I….” “What? It was her choice to re-up. Thank God you came home or I’d be taking care of my niece on a permanent basis, and God knows I love her, but she’s your girl… You’re her mom.” “I…I know. It’s just…” “You look back and wonder if you chose the right path? Fuck, Dee. You chose that path even before Kiera was even born.” “I...I know. But between missing Angela and everything else?” “What does your therapist say? I know she never tells you anything, but what does she help you pull out of there?” Lisa leaned over and tapped Dani’s forehead. “I was already where I was at before we had Kiera, and Angela’s death didn’t change things.” Dani paused and looked down at her body. “But…” “But nothing. , Dee. You’re where you’re supposed to be and you’re who you’re supposed to be. And that’s that.” “I…I guess…” “I know, sis. I know . But I also know that being a widow makes everything difficult. It is absolutely fucking hard not to feel guilty. But you have done such a great job. You’ve hung in there. You just finished your last clinical, and come October you’ll be working full time at Newton General.” “I…I don’t know what I…what me and Kiera would have done if it weren’t for you and Maria… I feel like such a burden.” “Stop it, Dee. You have never been and never will be a burden to me.” She leaned closer again and gave Dani a quick hug. “Mom?” Maria called as she and Kiera walked down the hall toward the kitchen. Kiera waved and interjected. “Before you ask, Aunt Lisa, yes, we cleaned Maria’s room. We’re bored.” Maria nodded. “Hey…I’ve got an idea,” Lisa stood up and urged Dani to join her. “You’ve got the whole day off. I worked overnight at the hospital. It’s only what?” Lisa glanced at the kitchen clock. “Not even Two-thirty? Let’s get cleaned up and then we should all get our nails done?” Dani started to shake her head. Kiera walked over and rubbed Dani’s arm. “Please?” “Yeah, sis. Girl’s Day out.” Lisa said and she gestured for Maria to join in, “Oh, please, Aunt Dee?” “Yeah, please? Kiera repeated. Dani looked around, searching for a way out, and Kiera spoke again, adding one final word that sealed the deal. “Mommy?” Dani smiled at her daughter, feeling entirely convinced in the moment, entirely blessed and entirely unworthy, but nevertheless relented. “Okay.” “Can we…” Maria began to speak and Lisa waved her off, but added, “Yes we can go to Panera’s,” which earned cheers as the girls ran back to Maria’s room to get ready. Lisa stepped close to Dani and drew her into a hug. She kissed Dani’s ear and spoke softly. “I am so damned proud of you, Sis. Hang in there. Good things are coming.” She squeezed Dani’s shoulders before walking down the hall to her bedroom. The kitchen grew quiet and Dani walked to the table by the front door to grab her purse. She glanced sideways and noticed her reflection in the antique lead and crystal mirror over the table. In what seemed like a lifetime ago she had pretty much purged certain words from her vocabulary for the sake of her daughter. But some things we tell ourselves, even things we know aren’t true or helpful, still demand certain words. Dani stared at her reflection and had little strength to reach into her psychic toolbox to fend off the lies and just muttered under her breath, “Oh fuck me…” Yesterday A girl that I was fond of Finally could see The writing on the wall Meanwhile... not too far away... The curtains were drawn, allowing only a bit a privacy, since Marta’s undue shame seemed to glare at her like a searchlight on a watchtower. She lay back in the recliner; likely the only soft thing remaining in her life. She shook her head in disappointment. Looking at her body, she mostly knew that everything that still remained in and on her worked, so to speak, even if they didn’t cooperate. “Oh…” she whimpered at the thought of paying herself attention; however many number of attempts over the past few days, she had lost track. She surveyed the ink on her chest. It might be viewed as ornate and colorful and pretty, had it graced a canvas or a mural. But on her body, the beauty of what had been added still had yet to ease the lack underneath the art. “Fuck…” she gasped in frustration as she withdrew her hand from her sex. Nothing that her doctors were forced to take in haste was supposed to affect what remained. She grabbed the glass of Merlot and sipped it. “Ladylike,” she would repeatedly remind herself. No longer with womb, was she ever again to be ladylike? “Christ almighty, I look like a fucking boy….” She sat up and poured another glass of wine. Downing half of it, she placed the glass on the table before easing back down into the recliner. It’s been said many times that only men get off on visual clues. Certainly that’s not true, but Marta struggled with her body’s reluctance, and she found herself trying to see something. As much as the sex had been good between her and her ex-husband, his arrogance ruined any fantasy she might envision. She shook her head no and closed her eyes, but merely to try to hear instead of see. When was the last time someone said something nice and remotely erotic? Her ex had ceased proclaiming his love long before cancer stole his wife while leaving behind a barren pod person, he had complained. Further back or going forward, no words came to mind and she forced herself to access her visual catalog. Lesbian porn seemed so soulless. Anything romantic that flashed across her inner eye was mocking; hurtful. “FUCK…I hate myself…” She muttered. Reaching out almost blindly, she managed to knock over both glass and bottle, sending them both spilling onto the floor. She struggled to get up, but between her semi-stupor and the recliner refusing to cooperate, she fell back. The darkness that had only a short while ago been protecting now seemed to reinforce her loneliness. In the quiet, a soft voice seemed to speak to her lack somehow. Unfamiliar yet inviting. Friendly if completely blind. “Can I help you?” That the question ended assuming who she was, somehow the voice still pulled feelings out of her that were long presumed dead. The face matching the voice swept across the darkness. Perhaps it was the wine? Perhaps it was the need to be known? She touched herself; tentative at first, but probing and petting. Her left hand caressed her chest, almost as if the feelings came from a ghost breast that remained connected to her being. “Fuck oh fuck…” The face leaned closer; kissing her neck. Licking her ear. Wiping away her tears with a gentle tongue. Lips that drank in her person. Savoring. Luxuriating “FUCK…” She was silent but the intensity of the emotion screamed in her head, while all along whispering to her heart. Her hips rose to accept the attention of her hand and she sobbed in relief as she came. Slowly she eased back down and turned her head to the side, “We don’t get too many strangers.” She recalled. Marta remembered or at least hoped it was true that the voice did not quite fit the awkward words. And just maybe the face might not be as pretty as she remembered, but pretty in one way or another to recall through much more than a passing thought. “Oh….” Marta moaned; her euphoria waned once more with regret and even some guilt, as she said aloud, “I don’t even know her name,” her words almost pausing for effect like an artillery round, the guilt and shame hit its intended target as she said much louder, “I don’t even know her fucking name.” Her denouement ended with her rolling on her side, pulling into a fetal position as she sobbed, all the while repeating, ‘I don’t even know her name.” Part Three - Dani's Dilemma In a way It's someone else's story I don't see myself As taking part at all Dani's home... Sweetie?” Dani paused and hit speaker before placing her cell on the kitchen counter. “Kiera? It’s okay, Nana can drop you off at Aunt Lisa’s tomorrow. I’ll pick you up right after work. Or maybe we can order in something…. I don’t know, okay?” Dani shook her head at the abruptness of her words. “Sorry,” Kiera’s voice was barely audible. Dani picked up the phone and tapped the speaker off. She drew the phone close and spoke. “No. honey. I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’ll call Lisa and maybe we can plan for something tomorrow afternoon. What? Come before Nana goes home? Uh… maybe. I’ll see if I can leave a little early. What, honey?” Dani dreaded the idea of meeting her Mom after several weeks of ‘just missing’ each other. “Nana has something… Oh...okay.” It was a rare day when Dani’s mom wanted to talk. “Alright… tomorrow at Aunt Lisa’s. Okay… What? Oh I love you too, sweetie… Okay see you tomorrow…bye.” Dani clicked off the call and put the phone back on the counter. She sighed as she looked down the hall at her open bedroom door. It was at times like these when work and family were kind enough to give her a break. Except being busy was about the only thing that kept her sane. She walked down the hall and into the bedroom, closing the door behind her. The front door was locked, and all the lights were out save for the lamp on her dresser that bathed the room in a warm glow. She stared at the double doors of the closet, her gaze slowly moving back and forth. “It’s okay, Dee. I’m okay. Really,” the voice inside her was soothing. The tone supportive. But the reality was as harsh as ever since that welcoming only served to remind Dani of the silence in the real world that repeatedly pointed out to her of what and who no longer graced her life. “Go ahead. It’s okay,” the other voice said. If Angela was the angel on her shoulder, then the voice that escaped her own lips had to be a devil, yes? Ironic that her name was almost an accusation. Danielle? God is my judge? Nothing her mother ever said to her in well-meaning misunderstanding could ever bring accusations as harsh as those Dani spoke to herself. But her voice today didn’t accuse. Her voice was almost as soothing as Angela’s in a way. She’d soon come to understand that what she was and how she lived was fine with the creator of the universe. That those things she was speaking to herself were not at all wrong, but rather were exactly what she needed to hear. “Oh…I…” she spoke as softly to herself as she was able. She walked to the dresser and placed her hand on it to steady herself. She used her right foot to ease her left shoe off and vice-versa until she stood with hose-covered feet on the carpet. She eased her jeans off and stepped out of them before backing away from the dresser. “I’m…I’m so sorry…” She raised her head and looked up in a prayer of pre-remorse as she threw off the sweater and blouse, leaving her in bra and pantyhose. Stepping up to the closet, she shook her head. “The Lady or the Tiger?” But the dilemma wasn’t in the choices she had but instead that no matter what she chose, she still would be wrong, she would tell herself. At least that’s what her therapist would pull out of her. “I… “ even that word was almost condemning. Did she really expect to be happy after Angela died? Did she even have a right to be herself? I… ego…eimi…. I am. Was she? She slid the right door open and stared at the clothing. Lisa had stopped reminding Dani about the closet; recalling that her own therapist was helping her to understand that grief is not on the clock or the calendar. “I…” So selfish. But there is a vital element of self-preservation in a widow’s selfishness. She surveyed the contents of the side of the closet. Several of Angela’s uniforms hung like a memorial to her sacrifice. But the rest of the clothes belied that edgy presentation. Several dresses hung in colorful array. Sensuous… Inviting. The part of Angela that came out in fun times away from obligation and duty. “NO…no…” Dani slid the door closed before opening the other side. The sensibly sane and dutiful Dani shook her head at the mufti of her life. Not unattractive, but still with slacks and gauzy dresses that shouted Mom even if she barely spoke that about herself. She put her hand to her chin in though before reaching slightly up to cover her face. “Oh fuck,” she gasped as she slip her own door closed and reopened Angela’s side once again. “I….” her apology was accompanied by tears as she reached in and grabbed a hanger. Almost destined to step out onto a dance floor at some club. The grayish blue of the cocktail dress sh
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