Packing

by Andrea

  

part 2

  

Sheila couldn't believe her ears. She hadn't seen Sandy for ages and hadn't been particularly keen on meeting up for lunch. It had been hard enough to take that Sandy was living with someone else, some Chinese bimbo by all accounts, but she'd managed to get over that some months ago. After all, Sandy wasn't the only fish in the sea and she'd made up her mind that even if Sandy wanted to crawl back there was no way she would restart their relationship. It was finished, finito, fin, terminated. But she still had happy memories of their time together so if it was just friendship that was on offer she'd give Sandy a chance to try to make the peace. So, when Sandy dropped the bombshell she'd choked on her goat's cheese crostini and it took her a few minutes to recover enough to speak.

"Wait a minute. Say that again."

Sandy was looking at her plate. "I'm pregnant." she murmured.

"Whoa. Let's get this straight. Last I heard you were hot and heavy on some girl called Mila…"

"Mi-Li." Sandy corrected her.

"Whatever… So last month you were tit-over-fanny infatuated with what our mutual friend Irene calls your Shanghai-Sweetie… And according to her she is a drop dead gorgeous girl. So what gives?"

"It's a long story. It's not what you think. Despite appearances to the contrary Mi-Li is a man. I suppose you could say he is my boyfriend."

"FUCK ME!" Squealed Sheila and every head within earshot turned. A few men looked appraisingly at her legs and consciously made the decision that they would welcome the invitation. A little embarrassed, she lowered her voice and leaned over the table.

"A man? And HE got YOU pregnant? Heterosexually pregnant? Like in sex-with-a-man, cock-in-your-cunt pregnant"

"Yes" said Sandy.

Sheila picked up her napkin and fanned herself. Sandy leaned forward and placed her hand over hers.

"Look Sheila, I'd like you to understand. Mi-Li's a delicate, sensitive creature and….."

"You are so confusing, Sandy. Let me use simple words. Stop me when I stray from the truth. Right? So, Mi-Li is a man. That man made you pregnant. He is the father of your child to be."

"Correct. Look Sheila…"

"Fucking hell! What are you going to do about it?"

"I'm going to have the baby. We're getting married. Look Sheila. I want you to do me a favor…" She gulped. "Would you be a bridesmaid?"

"Aww.." crooned Sheila and her eyes went a bit watery. "Of course I'll be your bridesmaid."

"Oh, not for me…. Could you be Mi-Li's bridesmaid?"

*

Tony was always a snappy dresser, but today he was taking special care over his appearance. It wasn't every day that you were best man at a wedding. Especially not your ex-lover's wedding. Mind you, he'd almost fainted when Mi-Li had told him about Sandy. 'What a pity' he mused. After all the boy had an ass on springs – 'the best little fuck in the civilised world' was how Tony had once described him. It was such a pity he chose to wear woman's clothes. To his mind Mi-Li looked so much better dressed as a man. A smile crossed his face as he remembered when they'd met. It was in a gay bar on the Southside and Mi-Li, or Michael as he'd introduced himself then, was dressed in skin-tight black leather jeans and a white cotton shirt. He'd been a real turn-on, a wet-dream on legs. Memories of mind-blowing blow jobs in weird and wonderful locations and of a particularly epic weekend they'd shared in a house on the beach at Hilton Head lingered pleasantly in his mind. It was only later that he'd found out that Michael had another, darker, side. Tony had had no idea that his lover spent most of his time living as Mi-Li, the girl from Singapore, and that he considered his weekends as Michael to be holiday outings in drag. How weird was that? And now the schitzo little bitch had become infatuated with that fat dyke, Sandy, or whatever her name was. And he had truly flipped his mind. It was so sad.

'Still' he thought as he carefully knotted his tie, 'At least I get to give a speech.' And he smiled again and tenderly patted his pocket where his twenty odd pages of scurrilous notes were hidden, being somewhat surprised that it didn't spontaneously burst into flames.

*

The phone warbled in the hall as Sheila was fussing over the finishing touches to Mi-Li's makeup. Sheila swore softly 'Damn, I bet you that's your Uncle Andy to say they've been held up' She stuck the lippy gloss brush back in its tube and picked herself up. The petticoats of her bridesmaid's dress rustled against the doorway as she awkwardly angled her skirts into the hallway. Mi-Li looked critically at the reflection in the mirror and nervously chewed her lower lip. Her stomach felt like it was full of swarming butterflies and for the third time in as many minutes she felt like running down the street and grabbing a cab to the airport. 'Just your nerves, girl' she thought, taking a few deep breaths. The sight of her bosom filling the tight bodice of the silk wedding dress soothed her excitement. After all, wasn't this the day every girl dreamt of? The dress was close to perfection, an elaborate creation of ivory silk with a high neckline, puffed sleeves, and twenty yards of underskirts. Seen from behind it was practically backless plunging in a deep scoop nearly to the waist, the shimmering pale silk contrasting with the smooth chocolate skin of her back. For propriety's sake this was partially covered by the lacy layers of the bridal veil which flowed, apparently effortlessly, from the elaborate pearl bands interwoven in her hair. She'd been very particular about the look he was after. Altogether her silhouette looked pretty satisfactory. It was a shame that her boobs were so tiny. Having the stays and silicon uplift panels cleverly integrated in the dress design helped but she'd always meant to have small implants to give him a bit of a cleavage. Now Sandy had put her foot down firmly on that one. So that was that. The only possibly unnecessary indulgence in the entire outfit was the tiny pair of frilly blue panties that no one could see. And they were a must anyway because it was traditional for a bride to wear something blue. But, panties at $200 a pair were pretty extravagant even for him. Sandy, bless her plain white JC Penny' cotton underpants, would have a fit if she knew. Wow, if Sandy ever found out what the wedding was costing, Mi-Li was in big trouble. But she wouldn't ever know, Mi-Li had flown out to Thailand the month previously and had all the dresses and her trousseau made by some excellent dressmakers she knew in Bangkok. Everything had been charged to his Malaysian account and Sandy certainly didn't know anything about that. And what do you know – it was worth every penny – she felt incredibly glamorous. And the pale green silk of the dress that Sheila was wearing was so complimentary. How clever of Sandy to suggest Sheila as a bridesmaid, with her Nordic looks she was the perfect foil for her own sultry Eurasian complexion. Lost in thought she didn't hear Sheila coming back.

'I said… That was His Royal Highness Queen Andy on his mobile. The limo's outside and he wonders if you would like to move your sweet fanny and come downstairs before hell freezes over entirely.'

*

Sandy was nervous. 'Correction' she thought 'terrified is a more appropriate word.' She was sitting on the front pew of the church chewing her fingernails, with only Tony for company. 'Bugger' she worded noiselessly 'All this and I don't even get to have a best woman!' Just to make it worse the church seemed airless and she was sweating profusely. The bloody cummerbund of her hired morning suit kept riding up over her bump and the waistband of the pants kept slipping down. 'I should have worn suspenders' she murmured through gritted teeth, as for the tenth time she stretched out and tried to manoeuvre the recalcitrant clothing into place. This was impossible, they should have got married before she started showing. But Mi-Li had insisted on a full church wedding with all the trimmings and that had taken ages to arrange. Now here she was, seven months pregnant and fat as a pig. She glanced at her watch; .. it was 3.05. If they didn't start soon she'd have to go for a piss.

Tony handed her a handkerchief and she wiped her brow. Then, as the organ started the first few bars of Ode to Joy she felt the pressure of Tony's hand under her arm and then they were on their feet in front of the pastor. 'Shit' she thought whimsically, 'We should have played something by Helen Reddy or the Village people.'

*

Andy sipped his martini and stretched out on the lounger. He was surely happy to be home again after such a busy trip. All that travelling was such a bore. How much nicer it was to be curled up here in his own house surrounded by his own things. He delicately flicked a minute fleck of cigarette ash off his skirt and reminded himself that it was about time he had a manicure. But the wedding had been such a laugh. He wouldn't have missed it for all the tea in China. He hadn't had so much fun since gay pride week back in 1986. How nice it was that Mickey had asked him to give him away. But Mickey, no Mi-Li, he corrected himself, was always so thoughtful. He remembered with pleasure when the boy had first come to board with him as a schoolboy. My, he was such a looker, so delightfully androgynous. He'd met him straight off the Singapore Airlines plane and the years that followed had been such golden time for both of them. Sadly so long gone now.

*

On the Monday evening just after the Christian Woman's Charity committee meeting Martha-Anne Clethorpes buttonholed her friend Annette Waybridge and suggested a glass of wine and a gossip. She'd heard rumors of a rather fancy wedding on Saturday and she wanted, no – she needed, the low-down from the pastor's wife. Pat Summers' teenage daughter Debra had told her mother that she'd seen the bride going into the church and that she was stunningly beautiful. So, after thirty minutes of inconsequential chat, when she judged Annette's throat to be sufficiently lubricated and her reticence sufficiently loosed, she worked her way round to the topic.

'That was a big flashy wedding your Tom officiated at on Saturday. That big stretched limousine and all those guest's. Were they movie stars or something?'

Annette looked around suspiciously to see if anyone was listening. 'No. At least I don't think so.' She thought for a moment then added, 'Well, if they are they wouldn't be in any movies I'd want my children to watch.'

Martha-Anne sucked in her breath. My, this was getting interesting. 'Not porn movies?'

'Probably.. They were all trans-thingies . You know, cross-dressers.'

'You mean that they were all men… The bride too? That's .. That's illegal!'

'No. According to Tom it wasn't like that. Everything was legal, technically. They were a man and a woman. It's just that they wore each others clothes.'

For once in her life Martha-Anne was lost for words. She just nodded and waited for her friend to continue.

'Poor Tom was quite shocked afterwards. He didn't have any idea until halfway through the ceremony, poor dear. It was only when he asked the groom to repeat his vows that the whole thing became so dreadfully muddled.'

*

Tony was laughing as he drove. In fact he'd been laughing almost continually for two days. Every time he remembered the look on the minister's face, which was about once every five minutes. Everything had been deadpan and straightforward right up to the moment that he'd asked the groom to repeat his vows. He'd just looked at Sandy and said 'Repeat after me. I, Michael Francis Li-Fuk, take this woman to be my wedded wife.' Then Mi-Li spoke up and repeated the phrase. The poor man tried three times before he panicked and adjourned the wedding party to the vestry. Sandy and Mi-Li explained the situation but it wasn't until they showed him their birth certificates, their passports and the wedding license that he was willing to go ahead, if somewhat reluctantly. Then there was that problem about whether or not Tony and Sheila were who they claimed they were and could be witnesses. Sheila had, in a moment of pure inspiration, solved this problem in an instant. She spontaneously lifted her skirts and offered to let the poor man have a feel. At that he went red as a beetroot and the issue was dropped. So that was that. The wedding had carried on. Michael Francis Li-Fuk and Sandra Henrietta O'Brien were now married and had sailed off on their honeymoon. But whether the new bride was going to be entirely happy to be known as Sandy Li-Fuk remained to be seen.

  

  

  

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