All for Jasmine

by: Samantha Jay
© November 2001

Part 1 - Jason

 

I looked at the clock. It was ten past six.

‘She should be there by now,’ I thought.

"I’ll just give it another twenty minutes," I said to no one in particular. Picking up the evening newspaper, I carried on reading the article that I had started. I glanced at the clock after I had finished the report.

"Well, Jason, time to start." I have this habit of talking to myself.

I got up and walked into the bedroom and removed my clothes. I stared into the mirror, looking back at me was a slightly balding, clean-shaven face. A face that is described as ‘fine featured’, what ever that means? All I know is that this face had gotten me in trouble all my life.

At school I was the wimpy one, the one boys loved to beat up and girls make fun of. School was not a happy time for me. I only just scrapped through my exams and, as such, only managed to get a mundane office job. Not for me the high-flying executive life.

Barbara was the high flying one, not me. Why she married me, I will never know. We met at an office function, she worked for one of our clients and, as it was my job to act as a host, I started talking to her.

It seemed that we had similar tastes and arranged to meet. Things went on from there and a year later we were married. That was three years ago.

As far as I know we have a happy marriage. The only gripe that Babs has is that people often comment that I am better looking than she is, even when she has full war paint on. When that happens Babs just laughs, but I know that it hurts her inside.

See this damn face always getting me in trouble.

"Come on, get on with it." I shake myself out of my lethargy.

I walk over to my wardrobe and remove a suitcase. Putting this on the bed, I open the catches after unlocking them and lift the lid. I stare at the contents for a few moments and then take out a black bra.

This simple act is the first step of an amazing transformation. After putting on the bra I rummage through the case for the knickers, also black. I check the tights for ladders and, satisfied, put them on. Taken from their box, the silicon breast forms are carefully, lovingly even, inserted into the bra cups.

A white blouse, blue knee length skirt and flat-heeled shoes complete the first stage. I take the long black wig from its package and slip it on. Back to the mirror and with lipstick, eye shadow and mascara Jasmine is born.

My face, which gets me in trouble, now comes to my rescue. It is a pretty face, not beautiful, but definitely pretty.

Jasmine has come to life and will spend the next three or four hours of blissful existence just watching television.

When the time comes, I reluctantly reverse the process. The wig goes back into its package, the clothes back into the case (I must remember to wash them) and the breast forms placed in their box. The lid is closed and locked and the suitcase returned to its resting place. The sparse makeup is removed and I go to bed.

*****

‘Beeeeeep’. I hit the alarm clock and try to wipe the sleep out of my eyes. I notice that Babs didn’t get back last night; an occurrence that was getting more common. Oh well, time to get ready for work.

I go through the three S’s, shit, shower and shave, and get dressed. Plain old business suit I’m afraid. Breakfast is just a cup of coffee and I drive into work.

Work -You’ve probably never heard of the firm I work for. Schuster and Schuster are a small legal firm specialising in corporate takeovers. There are five of us. Mr Schuster and Mr Harvey-Smith are the legal eagles; Karen and Jennifer are their secretaries and me. I’m the office manager. Great title, it just means I order the stationary and make the coffee.

Karen and Jennifer are nice. Jenn is married and has two kids whilst Karen is single. I don’t think there is a boyfriend; at least she never talks about going out. Being a small office we three get on like a house on fire. We talk about everything and share everything (at least everything we can share).

Even at thirty-two and with kids, Jenn is not bad looking. Oh I see I’ve forgotten something. I’m twenty-two, Babs is twenty-eight and Karen is twenty. Now where was I? Oh yes. The day was like any other, I made the coffee, the legal eagles spent most of the day out of the office and the girls and I talked about the previous evening and what we were going to do that evening and weekend.

"We’re taking the kids to their grandparents this weekend," Jenn offered.

"Which ones?"

"Fred’s side," came the reply. "What you doing, Jason?"

"I don’t know, I’ll have to wait till Barbara gets back tonight," was all I could offer.

"Karen?" Jenn was always the curious one.

"Nothing much."

"Not seeing anyone?" I could be just as curious. Jenn and I didn’t like to think that Karen was not enjoying life.

"Not at the moment. There doesn’t seem to be anyone nice enough these days," Karen replied with a sad edge to her voice.

"Look, why don’t you come round on Saturday afternoon and we’ll watch cricket."

"Okay Jason, but how about football instead?" It was a standing joke between us. I liked cricket and she preferred football - strange girl.

The drive home was like any other - stop-go, stop-go. Traffic had seemed to have become worse of late. Maybe the building of the new flyover or the metro link was to blame, I don’t know.

When I eventually got home, I noticed that Bab’s car was not there.

‘Strange,’ I thought, ‘she should be home by now?’

After letting myself in I went straight to the kitchen and put the kettle on. I was dying for a coffee. Back in the living room something struck me. Something was wrong, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

I went upstairs to change out of my work clothes. Something was odd in the bedroom. Just what it was I couldn’t tell. It was just out of reach. Once in "civvies" I went back to the kitchen to make that coffee.

Taking the drink into the living room I noticed the letter. Why did I not see it before?

I picked it up and opened the envelope.

*****

‘Dear Jason,’ it started.

‘I would like to thank you for the past three years. You are a very nice person, but I’ve realised that I just don’t love you. Maybe I never loved you, I don’t know. I just know that I don’t love you now.

‘In answer to you question, yes, I have found someone else, someone my own age. Someone who doesn’t compete with my looks.

‘I won’t contest the divorce and you can cite my adultery as grounds. You can keep the house and whatever is in it. I don’t want anything that will remind me.

‘I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you, but this is the only way.

‘I will be in touch.

Barbara’

 

"Damn face," I shouted through my tears. How could she do this? I thought we were happy. Why did she leave? I slumped into a chair and just cried and cried.

I awoke with a start.

"Barbara?"

There would be no answer. Barbara wasn’t there. She would never be there again. How could I go on? I cried myself back to sleep.

Sunlight crept into the room. I wanted to shut it out. There was no sun in my life anymore. There was no life anymore.

The morning dragged. I just didn’t care. Time had no meaning, life had no meaning. I went into the kitchen and hunted down the painkillers. I wondered if I had enough to end it all. I just didn’t want to live without Barbara.

The words swam across my mind. ‘Doesn’t compete with my looks’. Had Barbara found out about Jasmine? I went upstairs and put the case on the bed. I sprung the lid. Jasmine ‘looked’ out at me. I said a silent farewell to her and went back downstairs.

Back in the kitchen I wondered again if there were enough tablets. I poured some water into a glass and, crying, picked up the first one.

The doorbell rang. I ignored it and picked up the second one.

It rang again. Again I ignored it and picked up the third one.

This time it rang continuously

I tried to ignore the ringing, but it went on and on. I put the glass down and went to the door. It was Karen.

"Oh my God! Jason, what’s the matter? You look awful. What’s wrong?"

"Go away, Karen. Just go away!" Tears were flowing down my face.

She pushed her way in and I just followed. Passing the kitchen, she noticed the glass and the tablets, added two and two together and came straight out with it.

"Just what do you think you are doing?" Karen spat out the question

"Barbara’s gone. Just go away Karen!"

"Like hell I will! I won’t let you do anything silly. We’ve got a cricket match to watch."

Karen went into the kitchen and rounded up all the tablets.

"How many have you had?" she sounded frightened.

"Two, maybe three. No more than three," I answered still sobbing.

"Thank God for that. Have you had anything to eat yet?" concern filled her voice.

"No, not yet."

"Well you better had. I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry. What have you got to eat?" she called over her shoulder.

Twenty minutes later we were both tucking into a bacon sandwich.

"Want to tell me about it?" Karen probed carefully.

"Barbara’s gone. She’s taken what she wants and I suppose she has moved in with her new boyfriend. She says she can’t compete with…" I broke down again.

Karen moved closer and let me cry all over her jumper. She didn’t say a word, just sat there and held me whilst I sobbed my heart out. Finally she spoke.

"You said ‘she could compete with’. Whom did she mean when she said ‘compete with’…?" she left the sentence unfinished.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Jason, I had to use your toilet, your bedroom door was open. I’m sorry, but I saw the case on the bed."

I started to say something, I had forgotten the open case and burst into tears again.

"Has she got a name, Jason?" Karen softly asked.

I just carried on crying. That’s all I seem to do lately.

"Jason? I’m going to tell you something and I don’t want you to interrupt or tell anyone else. Do you understand?" I managed to nod my head.

"Can you stop crying and listen for a while?" Karen’s voice took on a sad quality.

I nodded my head again and tried to stifle my sobs.

"I used to have a brother. He was two years older than me, but we were close. He was a quiet, shy kid. Then one day I found a note in my room when I got home. It didn’t contain much, but it was the last thing he ever wrote." Tears had started to run down Karen’s face.

"It seems that he liked wearing female clothes, sometimes wearing mine. A group of thugs found out somehow, he didn’t say how or who those animals were. But it seems that they did something to him, again he only hinted at it. We found him later that night. He had hung himself. If I knew who those bastards were, I’d…" she paused, choked back a sob and continued.

"So, you see I won’t think you strange or odd. And Jason. I sure as hell don’t want to see you go the same way. There’s too much to live for."

"I don’t think Barbara knew." I said softly. "Sorry, Karen, I didn’t know."

"Very few people know. But… I suppose you can guess why I don’t date. The thought that I could be going out with one of the group that did that to…" again she paused and I stepped in.

"And I kept joking with you about your lack of men friends. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Only if you promise not to kill yourself. I lost my brother; I don’t want to lose you. You are the first man that I’ve never felt any repulsion to." That surprised me, but I promised not to kill myself.

Karen told me to take a shower and change into clean clothes, saying that I looked like a tramp. I did too. I had slept on the couch wearing my clothes and they were all creased and careworn.

I went upstairs and showered. It was whilst I was putting on a clean T-shirt that I realised that there was a new bond between us. We both knew each other’s secrets, well one at least. The smell of another bacon sandwich brought me out of my thoughts and lured me downstairs.

"I’d like to meet her, not now, but when you’re ready," Karen smiled whilst munching her sandwich.

"Thanks, Karen. You will and her name is Jasmine, by the way."

"That’s a nice name. A nice name for what I think is a nice woman, if she’s anything like you, she’ll be nice."

"I’m flattered, young lady," I said whilst doing a curtsey. Karen just laughed.

"So what channel is the cricket on?" Karen reminded me and I went to the television and switched it on.

"I’m going to stay the night, not that I don’t trust you, it’s just that I don’t trust you." Karen’s statement surprised me, but I understood it.

"Thanks, Karen, but I won’t do anything silly. Not now. You’ve convinced me that Barbara’s leaving is not the end of the world I thought it was." I responded.

I was not sure whether I meant that last comment, not yet. I still missed Barbara, but Karen’s concern for my welfare did surprise me.

*****

I woke up and moved my arm to where Barbara should have been. Realising that she wasn’t there started me crying again.

‘Come on, Jason. You’ve got to stop this,’ I chided myself.

Getting up and getting dressed I slipped quietly downstairs and started to make coffee. Karen was asleep on the couch. Poor girl, she should have gone home or even slept in the guest bed, but I guess she wanted to be sure that I wouldn’t do anything.

The smell of the coffee woke her up.

"Morning, Karen. Coffee?"

"Yes please? What’s for breakfast?" came the sleepy reply.

"I don’t usually do breakfast, but there’s some cereal somewhere or I could do toast?"

"Yuk! Mind if I freshen up?"

"No. Top of the stairs, you know the way."

Karen eased herself off the couch and stiffly walked towards the stairs.

"You look done in. Why don’t you run a bath and I’ll bring the coffee up if you want?"

"Thanks. That would be nice. No sugar, don’t forget."

"Look, I make it everyday so I ought to remember."

Karen limped up the stairs smiling. I heard the water filling the bath and went back to making the coffee.

"Must be something I can give her for breakfast," I said.

Looking through the cupboards I found a melon. Cutting it brought to mind the fact that although I didn’t like it Barbara did.

"Shit! Will everything remind me of Babs?" I shouted out. A noise reminded me of Karen.

I put the melon on a plate and then placed it and the cup of coffee on a tray and took them up to the bathroom. I gently tapped on the door.

"Karen, where do you want your coffee?"

"In here, it’s okay, you can come in."

Karen was lying flat out with the steaming water high up the bath and the foam piled even higher.

"What was that shout?" Karen asked.

"Nothing."

"Come on. If you don’t tell me I’ll just keep on till you do," Karen shot back.

"I just expressed a hope that everything I do would not remind me of Babs." I sadly replied.

"At first, but the memories will fade and who knows. You may find someone else one day. How old are you? Thirty, thirty-five?" Karen smiled as she spoke.

"I’m twenty-two, as well you know." I was going to get Karen for that.

"Do you like melon?" I asked.

"Well it’s better than cereal," she replied.

I put the tray on a stool near to the bath then fetched her a bath towel, which I left on the heated towel rail.

"Give me a shout if you need help," I said as I left the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

I went downstairs and pulled the Yellow Pages off the shelf. Opening the directory to the restaurant page, I picked up the telephone and started dialling numbers. On the third restaurant I managed to book a table. Returning the directory to its slot, I went and reacquired my coffee.

The sound of humming preceded Karen’s entry into the kitchen.

"Jason, I’m going to have to pop home and get a change of clothes. You sure I can trust you?" she asked.

"Of course you can. Look, bring something smart as I’ve booked a table." Karen looked pained. I quickly continued, "It’s my way of saying thank you. No strings attached just thanks."

"Sorry, Jason, it’s not you; I don’t often go to restaurants. I mentioned earlier that I didn’t date men and I don’t have many reasons to visit restaurants." Karen looked down at her feet as she said it.

"Look, you spent a night on my couch. Probably got a stiff back, little or no sleep, but more importantly, you probably saved my life. It’s the least I can do. It’s not a posh restaurant, remember I don’t have that much spare cash and I probably will need to save a lot more to divorce Barbara." As I said this, Karen slowly nodded her head. "Besides that, I’d just like to."

"Okay Jason, especially as Jenn and I may have to give you food parcels in future," she joked. We both laughed at this. Karen had a nice laugh. We didn’t see much of it at work.

"Table’s booked for seven and don’t worry I won’t tell anyone." Karen smiled as I said this.

She left about ten minutes later saying that she would be back by half six. After she had left, I pondered about what she had said. I known her, well both her and Jenn, about four… four and a half years and, although we had all got close, as work colleagues do, I had no idea that she’d had a brother.

*****

"Well I suppose I had better have a shower and get ready," I said to an empty house.

I have to wear a suit for work, so I decided to dress casual and was downstairs by six fifteen. Ten minutes later the doorbell rang. I opened the door to admit Karen.

I’ve noticed that I’ve been remiss here in that I have not described Karen, or myself for that matter. Well, where shall I begin? She is five foot five inches tall with long auburn hair with an attractive face. She takes a thirty-six B bra, size twelve (usually) clothes and her shoe size is four and a half. How do I know? Our little office chats. Me, well I’m five foot seven, balding and usually fit into medium clothes.

Karen is usually well dressed at work (white blouse and suit with the skirt about two inches above the knee), but now? She was wearing a short blue velvet dress with a sweetheart neck. Over this, she wore a thin blue coat. The knee-length boots had what I guessed to be a two-inch heel. And she looked stunning.

"Bloody hell, Karen. You make me look shabby!"

"Thank you, kind sir. I do try to look my best sometimes," Karen replied with mock seriousness.

I double locked the front door and escorted Karen to my car. I opened the passenger door and let her get in, closing it after her. The drive to the restaurant was short and we didn’t talk. Once there, I did the gallant male routine, opening doors for her and walking just slightly behind.

It was a small restaurant and we had a candle lit table for two towards the back where it was cosy. Neither of us had a starter and, over the main course, Jasmine came up.

"Jason, you don’t have to answer, but I would like to know a little about Jasmine?" she asked.

I thought for a while and started. "Jasmine has been around for about fifteen years. Way back then, she was little more that an idea, no real co-ordination. No substance, if you like."

"For the first few years she was an awkward girl trying to learn third hand how to behave, how to exist. Basically what other girls usually learn first hand. About five years ago I moved into a flat and Jasmine started popping round on a regular basis. Still learning the tricks and skills that normal girls had already learnt by then. She doesn’t date boys, or girls for that matter, and has never ventured out in the real world."

Whilst I was speaking, Karen was paying rapt attention, broken momentarily by taking another bite of her meal or a sip of her wine. I went on.

"It was very difficult keeping Jasmine’s existence away from Barbara. I never felt that the two of them could meet and so, Jasmine went back to not being around as often. Over the last six months, Barbara has had a lot of out of town trips and it was during them that Jasmine visited. Only staying an hour or two and now I realise that whilst Jasmine visited, Barbara was with her boyfriend. Ironic isn’t it?"

"You know a little of Jasmine, so what about…?" I trailed the question across the table.

"Robert, you mean? I told you he was shy, he didn’t really mix. Was always the loner and towards the end of his life I think he suffered from depression. He would go days getting sadder and grumpier and then he’d be his normal self for a while and then the cycle would start again."

"I can understand that," I interjected.

"Can you?" Karen was curious

"It seems that if you don’t dress then the pressure to do so increases daily. This has a tendency to make you draw into yourself. Like you said, people think you suffer from depression. When you finally give in and dress, the release is total. All the pressure disappears and you become your ‘normal’ self again."

"I didn’t know that, but it certainly explains Robert’s behaviour. Anyway he used to come into my room at home and we would spend hours talking. Not about anything in particular, but just talking."

"Do you know if he had a gender problem or just liked dressing? Look, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up." I had noticed that pained look in Karen’s eyes again.

"I don’t know. He never talked about his problems and I was too blind to notice. I wish I had, maybe Robert would still…"

I saw the tears well up in her eyes and changed the subject quickly. "Karen, would you like to meet Jasmine tonight?"

She dabbed her eyes with a tissue whilst nodding her head.

"Promise you won’t laugh or hate me?" I pleaded, beginning to feel ashamed as well as frightened.

"I promise," she replied softly.

The rest of the meal went quickly with Karen telling me some gossip about one of the secretaries in a rival firm. The drive back to my place was in silence.

"Can you make some coffee and make yourself comfortable as this could take some time?" I said, as I climbed the stairs.

"Okay, don’t worry, I won’t hate you," was her reply.

Once in the bedroom, I recovered the suitcase and got undressed.

"No turning back now," I sighed. I begin the transformation with the putting on of my bra. Jasmine hadn’t much in the way of clothes, so my choice was made for me. So it was the same knickers, blouse, tights, skirt and shoes that Jasmine wore the other day.

I took my time over dressing. My legs were already smooth as I regularly shaved them; the same goes for my chest. I stepped into the knickers and slid them up my legs. I paused and contemplated whether to use my cache sex; I don’t often, and decided to this time. I had to make a good impression.

So I slid my knickers down and retrieved the cache sex. Putting it on and getting the proper effect can be painful, but worth it. I pushed my testes back into my body and pulled up the cache sex. It held the testes in place. My penis was pushed into a pouch, which was secured underneath. The effect was of a smooth girly-like front. I put on my knickers again.

I balled up the legs of my tights and slipped one leg into the foot. I always liked the way the material felt as it travelled up my leg. I did my right leg and then my left one. Making sure there were no wrinkles in the legs I pulled up the waist part.

Then came the breast forms. I removed them from the box and carefully slipped them into the bra cups. I made sure they were properly located and put on the blouse. I could smell the coffee being made in the kitchen as I stepped into the blue skirt. Once zipped and buttoned, I secured the belt. Next came the wig. Once I had got that right I sat down at the dressing table and, with a shaking hand, started to apply eye shadow.

I willed myself to be calm. I couldn’t spoil it now. As before, I applied the eye shadow and mascara sparingly. I’ve always liked the taste and feel of lipstick. Applying it was always a thrill and tonight was no exception. I looked at my reflection. I’d done my best. I thought Jasmine looked good.

I put my feet into the shoes and, with my knees knocking, walked downstairs to meet my fate. I walked into the living room.

"Hello, my name’s Jasmine. You must be Karen?" I forced myself to speak softly as I first curtseyed, and then held out my hand to her.

"Hello, Jasmine. It’s very nice to meet you." She took my hand and shook it gently.

"Is that coffee? I’m just dying for a cup. Sit down, make yourself comfortable."

I picked up the coffee and sat on the couch making sure that I kept my legs together. Karen sat opposite me and stared, wonder in her eyes.

"Have I dropped something down my blouse?" I asked

Karen shook her head and then said, "I was right, you are a nice woman."

"Thank you," I answered. "You’re not bad yourself… for your age." This was said with a smile.

Karen was momentarily confused, maybe hurt, but then remembered earlier in the bathroom and burst into laughter. I joined her.

"Okay we’re even," she said through her laughter.

"You look nice, been anywhere?" I asked innocently.

"Yes. Out for a meal."

"With anyone?" I asked, trying to be even more innocent.

"Yes."

"Boyfriend?" I was setting Karen up.

"Not really. I haven’t got any boyfriends."

"A good looking girl like you. I don’t believe that." I was playing the feminine role to the hilt.

"I don’t date boys."

I could see Karen’s mind working overtime. I continued, "Girls then?"

Karen thought and then said, "No, not girls either."

"You’re not a hard line feminist are you?"

She started to say something and then saw the broad grin on my face and threw a cushion at me.

"I’ll get you later, Jasmine," she threatened.

"More coffee or do you want something stronger?" I asked.

"I’ll have to be getting back."

"Stay the night. I have a guest bed and, anyway, it’s already late."

"Only if Jasmine is here when I wake up."

"I don’t know, I haven’t got a lot of clothes."

"I’m sure Jason will lend you a T-shirt."

I got up and went to the kitchen, Karen’s eyes following me. Waiting for the kettle to boil, I stared out of the window. I could see Jasmine looking back at me. I had lost Barbara, but with that loss Jasmine could visit anytime she liked. She could stay as long as she liked. I was sad, but excited at the same time. Where was this going to lead? It seemed that one of my fantasies could come true. Could I live as Jasmine, could I get away with it?

I was deep in thought and didn’t hear Karen come into the kitchen. I finally surfaced from my thoughts and saw her looking at me.

"It’s amazing. I don’t see Jason at all. There is no sign that you are anything, but a good looking woman," she said.

"Hardly good looking," I replied.

"No, I mean it. Okay, I agree you’re not beautiful, but neither am I. You are attractive, you know?"

"Thank you, but you are wrong. You are beautiful and although I understand why, you should go out with men. They are not all bad. There are a few of them that would be as shocked and hurt at your brothers treatment as you are."

"Are you shocked?" she asked.

"Yes, but remember I have my own reasons. Why do you think that Jasmine only exists here and not in the real world? Being discovered is my greatest fear along with the ridicule and humiliation that would accompany that discovery."

I paused and continued, "You can dress like a man and no one blinks an eyelid. I dress as a woman and I am a disgusting freak, a faggot. In some peoples’ eyes I am worse than a paedophile. Do you know how much that hurts?"

Karen walked over to me, put her arms around me and said, "I didn’t realise. As close to my brother as I was it seems to me that you probably understand him better than I did."

"Only because he and I share, sorry, shared, the same compulsion. I don’t want to be a woman, but I do like wearing their clothes. Does that make me a lesser man?"

I realised that I was getting boring and decided to stop.

"Sorry, Karen. I don’t know where that came from. Babs leaving me has really screwed me up. Maybe it’s best if you go home and forget all of this. I’ll start looking for another job on Monday so you won’t have me to remind you of your brother."

"Don’t be stupid, Jasmine. Okay, you are still screwed up, as you say, by Barbara’s leaving, but I am still your friend. I hope that Jasmine sees me as her friend?"

"Of course I do, Karen."

"Well then. Both Jenn and I will help you over the next few months and you’ll soon get over this. Life goes on. Do you think you are the first to experience being walked out on?"

She was right. Lawyers made small fortunes out of divorces. I was not unique. I made the coffee and we went back to the living room.

"What were you thinking about in there?" Karen asked.

"I’m not sure I can say," I answered.

"Why?"

"Because it was silly." I had begun to think through my earlier thoughts.

"How do you know?" Karen was gently pushing me.

"Because it just is."

"Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?" She was still pushing.

I paused, let out a sigh and started. "I was thinking that with Barbara gone, then maybe Jasmine… One fantasy I have is to be able to dress as Jasmine almost full time." There, I had said it; I tried to see Karen’s reaction.

"There would be problems, you know."

"That’s why it’s a silly idea," I said.

"No it’s not. You could actually do it. You really are good enough, you’ve still got things to learn, but you are good enough." This, from Karen, surprised me.

"But what about working, banking, dealing with officialdom?"

"First, the Tax man doesn’t care what you call yourself, or how you dress, they only want your money. Second, you can use Internet banking and third." She paused here. "Third, I’m sure that Jasmine would be welcome at the office."

"Thank you, Karen, but it is still a silly idea."

"Maybe, but will you let me help you? I’ll teach you the things Jasmine needs to know."

"Thanks again, but why?"

"It’ll will help me; this is what I should have done with Robert."

She looked sad, vulnerable even. I just couldn’t hurt her by turning her offer down.

"Okay, Karen. When do we start?" I was unsure about this

"Tomorrow," she said, her face all smiles.

"Well, we’d better go to bed then," I said, wondering what I had gotten myself into. On one hand I was elated with the prospect of being able to dress and on the other, worried about the future.

"I’ll just get my clothes out of my car," Karen said.

"You were always going to stay the night, weren’t you?" I asked incredulously.

"No, but I did hope I could." She called over her shoulder.

I smiled to myself; I would never understand women.

 

 

 

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© 2001 by Samantha Jay. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.