Tango

by Oak

 

Chapter 7

We fell into a routine on Friday nights. She came early and I made dinner for her, attempting different dishes each time. We spent an hour or two dancing, sometimes as lessons, sometimes for pleasure. We argued playfully each week about whether she could pay me for the night and how much time was devoted to lessons and how much to dancing.

I grew distressed by the issue of money. Clearly, our association had become a courtship. The idea of accepting money for any part of our time together was repellant to me. When she argued from the point of view of our differences in income, this brought me greater distress. I would tell her that if accepted money I failed to be a good host to my guest. She returned that if she did not pay for the lessons, she would fail to be a good student. I told her that her company was payment enough for the lessons. She said that if she did not pay for the lessons then she would be obligated to make dinner for me instead. She assured me that we would both regret that arrangement. I believed her. When I told her that I benefited more from the lessons for the practice and exercise, she laughed. She asked, "Do you expect me to believe that?" In the end, we never came to an agreement about the issue of money. It seems that we are both stubborn in our own ways.

*****

At the end of each Friday evening, Emerald borrowed freely from my late wife's wardrobe. Now that she came and left as Emerald, it was prudent to return in a different dress each week. She also borrowed casual clothes, night clothes and lingerie for use at home during the week. One day, this wardrobe would become evenly distributed in both our residences.

One evening, I happened to be on hand as she went through my wife's closet. She took out a backless dress that tied around the neck. She held it up against her shapely body. I pointed out that this dress would not do as the bra straps would show. She instinctively looked at her shoulder and felt at the bra strap beneath. She tried to hide her embarrassment and disappointment with a crooked smile. She put the dress back and sought out a more suitable one.

Later, her disappointment troubled me. She faced daily reminders that she was not fully a woman. Surely there was some arrangement to circumvent this problem. Once again, I went to the library to look for information on a computer. It took me some time to identify some sort of artificial breasts. Once I did, I was overwhelmed by the number of items for sale. There were rubber breasts of all shapes and sizes available for sale at a wide range of prices. It was not easy to choose a pair. This was complicated by my need to hide what I looked at from the gaze of the occasional passerby. It was perhaps the first time that I regretted that I had no computer of my own.

Using my wife's measurements as a guide, I finally found what looked to be appropriate. The color, size and shape seemed correct. This set also came with glue to attach the breasts to the chest and a solvent to remove them when finished. While I was looking, I also happened upon other items that might serve to enhance her shape. I found a waist cincher, which is a kind of partial corset. I also found an intriguing item called a gaff. This was a variation on a female undergarment that promised to fully hide the male genitalia. I ordered the items and left the library in a state of exhaustion and relief.

Ten days later, after we finished dinner and cleaned up the kitchen, I presented Emerald with three wrapped gifts. She was amazed.

"How did you know it was going to be my birthday?"

I was surprised myself. "What day is your birthday? I asked.

"Tuesday" she replied.

"Is it too forward of me to ask how old you will be?"

"Not at all. I will be 26."

Internally, I cringed a bit at her age. I had hoped that she had been older. "To be honest, I did not know that your birthday was near. You should have told me sooner. This delights me that I did not miss it."

"I didn't want you to feel that you had to do anything special. But thank you for thinking of me, especially without even knowing about my birthday. I'm really touched."

"Then open your presents," I said.

She took the stack from me and I instructed her to open the largest box first. When she took out the waist cincher, she said "Aren't you sweet" and then leaned over and gave me a peck on the cheek. After opening the gaff, she was perplexed.

"Thank you, but what is it?"

"It is awkward to explain, but there is a page of directions included with it."

She took out the note and read it through. She blushed. "I understand now. Thank you again."

Finally she opened the last box. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes grew wide. She reacted as if I had given her a diamond necklace. She lifted the artificial breasts out of the box and caressed them lovingly. She placed them back in the box and suddenly threw her arms around my neck and kissed me.

"Oh thank you, dear Eduardo. This is the best gift anyone has ever given me!"

I was surprised by the intensity of this response. This more than made up for her earlier disappointment.

"Can I try them on now?" she asked eagerly.

"Of course," I said. "Do you need my assistance?"

She looked back in the box. "There are bottles in here. Maybe you could help me figure this out."

We moved to the bedroom and together read the directions for the glue and solvent. I expressed concern that the solvent may not work immediately or effectively, leaving her in an embarrassing situation later. She insisted that she was willing to take the risk. We applied the glue to the back of the breasts and while she lied down, I applied them to her bare chest. After the allotted time for drying, I asked her to rise. The color of the breasts did not match her skin precisely, but their shape and movement looked remarkably real. She touched them very carefully.

"They feel real," she said. "Not that I have felt very many of these myself."

"They look real too." I added. "Let us apply makeup to them to blend them to your skin." Following that portion of the directions, we applied makeup around the edges and then added lighter tones on the surface and darker tones between them.

"I must say, they look magnificent."

She nodded slowly in agreement as she looked at her chest in the mirror. "I just can't believe it!" She looked up at me. "This must be embarrassing to you."

I chuckled. "It is true that I am not in the habit of applying makeup to a lady's breasts and staring at them afterward. In the future you can do all of this in private."

"I don't mind if you see them. Oh! I guess that sounds bad."

I laughed again. "There is nothing to be concerned about. Perhaps you would like to try on your other gifts?"

"You probably will need to help me put on the waist-thingy."

She was right. This was not an easy garment to put on without help. She insisted that I pull ever tighter on the laces. I felt that I might squeeze the life right out of her. "You will not be able to dance properly with this so tight."

"I was thinking", she said. "These open up so many possibilities for me. I'm not sure where to begin. Do you suppose that we can postpone our lessons tonight so that I can try on some of the clothes I could not wear before? I would be happy to model them for you."

How could I refuse such an offer? "I would like that very much."

I left her to try on the gaff and then to try on dresses. I poured myself a glass of port and sat upon the couch to enjoy the show. It would be one of the most engaging shows I have ever witnessed.

Starting with the dress that inspired these gifts (she had guessed as much) she put on almost every dress and costume that was previously denied to her. Her new breasts now moved as real ones move. Her shapely waist made her hips look larger and more feminine. The overall effect was breathtaking. Hours and dozens of dresses later, she finally announced that she had come to the last one. But she clearly was not ready to finish her modeling session.

I made a suggestion. "Please look in the drawers of the bureau for other items that you might wish to try on. Naturally, you do not need to come out to show me the more intimate items. You also should feel free to try on the other wigs."

"Thank you!" She dashed back into the bedroom. When she came out again, she wore a one-piece bathing suit and a long blond wig. I suppose that the style was long since out of date, but she looked ravishing in it. I was also struck by how very different she looked as a blond. She seemed particularly sexy in that color.

She modeled other one-piece bathing suits (why had I saved such things all of these years?). As a surprise, she had shed the waist clincher and now wore a bikini and a shorter brown wig. I could see the redness from the tight garment and there was a distinct lessoning of her hourglass figure. Still, she looked lovely.

She went back into the bedroom and finally returned in a long black nightgown and a long black wig. This brought to me a flood of memories about Maria. It also awoke in me pronounced feelings grounded in the present. I could see a hint of the nipples through the sheer fabric. I could also see the black panty-gaff beneath. I prayed that she did not notice my arousal. I was afraid to move that I might draw her attention to it. After a pair of pirouettes, she draped herself on the sofa beside me, much to my discomfort. I felt that I might explode.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

"I cannot tell you how much I like it," I said honestly. I shifted to better hide myself.

"Would you like to feel my new breasts? Really, I don't mind."

My training as a gentleman battled with my desire. In my uncertainty, I hesitated, neither accepting nor refusing. She let out a quiet "hmmm" and finally took hold of my left hand and placed it upon her right breast. I consented to touch it very tenderly through the fabric, feeling the weight and movement of the large globe. It was warm to the touch. It was fully a part of her now.

She leaned over me and kissed me. Before I knew it, my arms encircled her as I returned the kiss. Time seemed to stand still. I have no idea how long we kissed and caressed one another. Eventually, we found our way into the bedroom. We threw the piles of clothes off of the bed and embraced within. I will not say what happened next. I will only say that we were both well satisfied until we fell asleep in the early morning.

 

Chapter 8

We lay in bed late into the morning. I was relieved that I had no early appointments. Beyond an exchange of good mornings, we did not have much to say. We enjoyed the languor too much to put in the effort of a conversation. Eventually, one of us was bound to speak.

"You know, I think I'll call in and take the next week off," she said. She slowly lifted her bare breasts up and down. The effect was mesmerizing. "I really will hate taking these babies off."

"Do you have holiday time available?" I asked.

"Yeah, I've got like a zillion vacation days. I never go on vacations. The question is whether they can afford my absence right now." She paused in thought while the ebb and flow of her breasts continued. "You know, I will just take next week off even if they can't afford it. It's not like they'll fire me. I'll make up something about a sick relative."

"I thought that you no longer had relatives," I asked.

"I don't. But they don't know that."

When she finished handling her breasts, I woke up from the hypnotic spell. "So what will you do with your week off?" I asked.

She looked at me with a playful smile. "That depends. What are you doing next week?"

"It depends on me, does it? I do not have a busy schedule. I have many short appointments throughout the week. Some are here and some are at the dance studio that I teach at."

"You work at a dance studio? You never told me that."

"Did you think that I pay for all of this luxury with the money that you pay me?" I asked, sweeping my hand across the room. Actually, while the flat was ancient and in poor repair, and most of the rooms were quite small, there were many of them and the studio was large. I would never reveal to her that this was more than a man of my means could afford. Yet I will never move from this flat while I have a choice. The space and I are perfect for each other.

"Can't you take the week off?" she asked.

"I can cancel lessons. I may be able to find a replacement at the dance studio, but it is short notice. If it pleases you, I will try to free some of my days for you. Would you like to travel somewhere?"

"Actually, I would rather just stay right here with you, if you don't mind. But I don't want you to get tired of me, though."

I kissed her. "That shall never happen. You can stay the entire week. I will cancel or move appointments away from here. When I have engagements that I cannot cancel, you may stay here and wait for me."

"Thank you, Eduardo. This is going to be the best birthday I've ever had!"

"You are most welcome, Emerald."

After another silence she touched her breasts again and then said "I was just thinking. Besides our Fridays together, are you available on Monday nights for me to come over? You don't need to cook for me that day. I can bring take-out with me."

"I have a lesson on Monday nights. My Wednesday nights are free."

"I would really like to see you on Mondays," she responded.

"I will try to change the day of my lesson. Or perhaps I will follow your example. I may just insist upon it! You are also welcome to join me on Wednesday evenings as well."

"You are so wonderful!" She emphasized this with a kiss.

This brought me to thinking. "Allow me to guess. After your work on Friday, you wish to complete yourself like so," I put my hand on hers and squeezed both the hand and the breast beneath, "stay completed throughout the weekend, work from home on Mondays as the beautiful Emerald, and then spend the twilight hours of your lovely incarnation with me."

"Wow! You can read my mind! Okay then, can you read what I'm thinking about where I would like you to put your other hand?"

I touched her elsewhere with my other hand. By the purr that she made, I guessed that I had read her mind correctly.

*****

We did spend the week together in my flat. I left her occasionally for brief appointments and trips to the market for fresh food. We danced and laughed and learned about one another. I even played my violin for her. I am not an accomplished musician, yet she applauded me as if I were. Her kindness warmed my heart.

When I woke up each morning, it was in anticipation that she was beside me. When I entered a room where she sat reading, it was as if there was an added light and warmth in that room. I had the distinct feeling that she belonged here with me. There were unexpected encounters as well. Finding wet stockings and slips in the bathroom invoked in me a mixture of irritation and affection. There is something grounding and domestic about this particular female habit.

She stayed through the next weekend as well. When the dreaded Monday arrived, she left me with promises to return that evening, bearing Chinese food. When the door closed behind her, I turned and looked about my flat. For the first time since I got over the death of my wife, it seemed very empty and lonely. I had grown highly attached to Emerald. I would miss her even for the ten hours that she was away from me.

 

Chapter 9

Our routine shifted significantly after that fateful week. In addition to our hallowed Friday evenings, we spent each Monday night and most Wednesday nights together. She often stayed through the weekends as well. In effect, we spent most of our free time together. We spent part of that time dancing, both for lessons and for pleasure. But most of the time was more relaxed, whether interacting together or individually.

During many dinners, I spoke to her about literature, philosophy and the arts. She was not well educated, but she grasped new ideas quickly. She borrowed books from my library and read voraciously. She could hold her own in conversations about their meaning and import. I was impressed by the questions that she raised. After so many years, the rusty machinery of my brain began to turn again. She read passages to me as I cooked. I read poetry to her while her head lay in my lap. An entire world that I had forgotten was opened to her for the first time and reopened to me.

Money had become an issue again. Because I had canceled or turned down lessons on days devoted to Emerald, I no longer brought in enough income to cover expenses. While, we never went out to dinner or other forms of entertainment, I spent much more on food and wine than I was accustomed to do. And naturally, I bought gifts for my beloved.

Despite my situation, I still attempted to refuse payment for her lessons. Perhaps it was for the best that she usually won such arguments. I did not tell her that I was dipping into my savings to cover the shortfall. The arguments would only increase. Someday, she would tire of me and I would suddenly find myself with plenty of time to earn money again.

Within our routine, Emerald still managed many surprises. For example, I sometimes met her at the door and she wore an outfit that I did not recognize. When I asked her if it was new, she assented but did not offer to elaborate. Did she buy them through her computer? Was she now brave enough to appear in public and shop as Emerald? I had no idea if she went anywhere apart from her home and mine.

On one occasion, I answered the door and she wore a revealing blouse. Her very appealing cleavage had no trace of seams or makeup. I am sure that she noticed the direction of my gaze. Since she did not offer an explanation I did not ask for one. This must have registered as an approval since she started wearing similar garments from my wife's closet. In fact, I did approve of this new exposure. And was it possible that she was growing bigger in that portion of her body?

I noticed other agreeable changes to her body as well. Some of them were slow, subtle changes, while others were more sudden. Her skin was very soft now, as soft as any woman, or her man, could desire. I also noted that I never saw a hint of facial hair anymore, even when she stayed for days at a time. During my research, I read about a solution to this problem, although I recall no details.

One sudden surprise came as we prepared to dance one evening. As I put my hand upon her waist, I immediately noted the difference. She did not wear the waist cincher this evening. Yet her waist was as trim as it had previously been. I moved my hand up and down her waist to confirm that this hourglass shape that I felt truly was her. Of course, I had had many opportunities to observe this earlier. But it was the change of routine that brought my attention to the change in her. This discovery brought an end to dancing in favor of more intimate activities.

Other changes were evident but more subtle. For example, her movement and deportment could not be distinguished from a born woman. As I said, she was an adept student and she learned much of this early on. It seems that her voice had become more woman-like, although it was hard to say how it had changed. Certainly her manner of speaking had progressed. The choice of words, the use of inflections, expressions and gestures had developed over time into a very distinct female personality.

Her dance progressed in much the same manner. After dramatic improvement in the beginning, she improved steadily and eventually reached the plateau that separates an excellent dancer from a professional dancer. To cross that line, we would need to practice far more than we allotted time for. We already spent as much of our time together as possible. We were not ready to exchange this for more dance time. Further, I was getting older and I was not certain that I had the stamina to compete professionally again, even with this star as my new partner.

Another benefit of so much practice was that Emerald now had the legs of a dancer. It is the delight of all dance instructors to see the development in the legs of their dedicated female pupils. Her legs become firm and very shapely over time. Her legs were now as beautiful as any I had seen, especially in the high heels that she had become accustomed to dancing in.

The most dramatic change was one that reflected a long but hidden change. One night she arrived at my door sporting a hairstyle that was much shorter than any of the wigs that belonged to my wife. It was not quite shoulder length, slightly curled and of a rich brown hue. I admired it wordlessly and motionless while she pushed past me to come inside.

"Your hair …" I began.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

"Indeed, but is it…" Again, I was at a loss for words. She did not volunteer information. She smiled, inclined her head and raised her eyebrows. Finally, the truth dawned on me. "This is your own hair?"

"Yep. It's all mine." Her smile widened. "Do you really like it?"

"Absolutely. I just don't know what to say."

"I've been letting it grow all of these months. So now I don't have to wear a wig again. Except for fun."

My hand lifted to her hair of its own volition. "May I?" I asked, after the fact.

"Please do."

I permitted my hand to reach up and stroke her hair. From early on, she had the unconscious habit of playing with the ends of her hair (that is, the wig), twisting it about a finger or putting it into her mouth. On occasion, I brushed hair out of her face or out over her shoulders. This was the first time I could actually run my fingers through her hair. I had forgotten how wonderful that sensation had felt.

"This is nice," I said.

"I agree," she answered.

We quickly developed new habits in relation to her hair. She sometimes donned a wig when we danced, which added dramatic effect. For most purposes she wore her own hair. I did not ask her what she did about this indisputably feminine hairstyle when she was in her other life (I hated to remind her of that life). I was pleased that another part of her was truly her. From this point forward, the increasing length of her hair enabled me to measure the duration of our relationship. In deference to me, she never cut her hair beyond what was necessary.

 

Chapter 10

Weeks passed as we settled into our new routine. As months passed, we found no reason to change anything about our lives. We were comfortable with each other and how we spent our time together. If there were regrets, they were not spoken. I was happy and she seemed happy too. We did not discuss our relationship or our future. Perhaps each was afraid that raising the subject might bring change. As far as I was concerned, we could continue in this way indefinitely.

Thus, I was much taken back when she announced a great change.

That Friday night, she was distant, as if lost in thought. When I asked her if something was wrong, she shook her head but made no other answer. Finally, she told me what was on her mind.

"I'm sorry, Eduardo," she began, "I'm not quite myself today. I need to say something but I'm afraid to say it."

I feared the worst. I feared whole legions of "worsts". "What is it?" I asked.

"I guess it's best if I just tell you. I need to go away soon. Next week. I'm going to be gone a long time and I'll be out of touch during that time. But I will come back to you."

"Where are you going?" I asked. "How long will you be away?"

"I'd rather not say where I'm going or why I'm going there. I'm sorry, but it's easier for me if I don't talk about it. Please trust me. I'll definitely come back to you and everything will be just as it was before. But I'll be gone maybe six weeks."

"Six weeks!" I said loudly. "And you will not tell me where or why?"

"Please don't ask," she pleaded. Tears had come into her eyes.

"I suppose that you are leaving to meet someone. A man." I suggested petulantly. I instantly regretted my words.

Now she cried in earnest. "No! Oh course not! You know I'd never see another man as long as I'm with you!"

I took a deep breath and sought to calm myself down. "Yes, I know this. I know also that you are an honest and faithful person. I am upset about this but you do not deserve any accusations. I am truly sorry."

In time, her tears subsided enough that she could talk again. "I'm sorry I didn't give you more warning. I don't blame you for being mad at me. But you must believe that this doesn't change anything between us. I need to do this and I need to do it alone. It's too hard to explain. I wish I could, but I don't know how."

I tried to adopt a façade of dignity. "Of course you are free to do as you wish. You do not owe me an explanation. I have no hold on you. Again, I am sorry that I snapped at you."

She shook her head adamantly. "I don't want you to release me! I just want you to believe me that I will be back and we can then start up where we left off."

I nodded and put my hand over my eyes. "I will try to believe you. It will be difficult for me to do this for six weeks, but I will make myself believe. I will try to be faithful to your wishes."

She stepped forward and took up my other hand. "That's all I ask. Please trust me. I know that is too much for me to ask. But I really want you to believe me. I will return to you."

"I trust you," I said. "When do you leave? Will I see you again before you leave?"

She drew away from me, looking down. "I was hoping that you would let me stay the weekend with you."

"Of course, my darling!" I took her into my arms and held her tight. She cried again. I somehow held back my own tears.

*****

We spent a long weekend together, including the whole of Monday. We tried at first to pretend that she was not leaving soon but neither of us pretended well. We accepted the reality of this major change. We talked about how I could spend all of my free time during those weeks. She joked about how relieved I would be to use the bathroom when I chose and to see no clothing laying out in any of the rooms. I joked about how much sleep she would now get without my snoring in her ears.

I told her how quiet and dark and empty the house would seem without her radiant personality to fill it.

"I'm so sorry, Eduardo. I promise you that I'll never do this again. When I return, I'll explain everything. I'll keep no secrets from you after that."

I was sorely tempted to ask what would change that she could trust me with her secrets only after she returned. But I caught myself in time. I knew that such questions would only cause misery.

"Is there anything that I should prepare for your return?"

"Nope," she said. "Just be here when I return. And don't forget me!"

I laughed at that. "Do you think that it is possible that I should ever forget you? When I am a senile old man and you visit me in the elderly home, do you think that even then I can forget you?"

She laughed too. "You'll never be senile. I'll be senile before you. You can visit me in that home of yours!"

When the time came on Monday evening, we said our intimate, tearful goodbyes. When the door closed behind her, I was alone in a small flat that now seemed too large. The weeks would pass but not without much grief.

I tried to distract myself during the long absence but I could not. Everything in my flat reminded me of Emerald now. I never once thought of Maria during these weeks. This was most surprising to realize later. Even when Emerald was with me, I thought of Maria at times. During this long wait, I was forced to come to terms of how I really felt about Emerald. It was not enough to enjoy her company. I would need to decide who she was to me and who I was willing to be for her. Perhaps this is why she had to leave me for a time, that we should face the truth about ourselves and our feelings for each other.

 

Chapter 11

I counted the days until her return. The trouble was that she did not tell me which day she would return. It seemed that she did not know. I could only guess what day completed the measure of six weeks. So it was when I heard a knock on my door on Friday of the fifth week. I had not accepted new students on Friday evenings, so I could not guess who it might be. Imagine my surprise when I opened the door and Emerald stood there beaming up at me.

"Emerald!" I nearly shouted, "You returned!" I pulled her into the room and closed the door without letting my eyes leave her. "Let me look at you!" I said.

Perhaps I said this for dramatic effect. Perhaps I did not yet believe that it was she standing before me. Once I did look at her, I noticed that something had changed. I could not say what it was but something was surely different. And it was a good change. Her hair was longer still, perhaps to the middle of her back now, and it was a lighter brown with blond highlights. But the change was far more fundamental than a change to her hair. Before I could guess at the change, her voice redirected my thoughts.

"Hello, Eduardo," she said.

My surprise at her unexpected arrival could not compare to my shock at her greeting. This was not Emerald's voice! Or more accurately, this was her voice but I had never heard the sound of it before! Gone was the raspy mix of sounds that hovered between those made by a man and those made by a woman. Her voice was a woman's voice, pleasing and melodious.

"How are you?" she asked.

I made no answer. I merely longed to hear her speak more words.

"You look like you need to sit down," she commented.

I nodded but made no move. I waited for more words to come. She took my hand, led me to the sofa and sat me down. She sat facing me.

"I'm back! Just as I promised. Even a little bit early. I just couldn't stay away any longer. Are you happy to see me?"

By way of answer, I took her hand, raised it to my lips and kissed it. She blushed a beautiful pink.

"I think you need a drink." She rose up, poured us each a glass of port and returned with the glasses. I gratefully took one and emptied it. My mind was finally beginning to clear.

"Wow!" I finally said. "You look great! And you sound great too! Wow!"

Her smile broadened. "Do you like my new voice? I've been working with a voice coach for a long time. I finally got to the point where I needed to transition to my new voice full time. So I did that while I was away so I could perfect it for you."

"You left me for all this time so that you could practice your voice?"

"Oh no! I've been busy with all sorts of things. Making all sorts of changes in my life."

"What else have you changed?" I asked.

"Do you notice anything else different?"

I certainly had but I was not able to place it. "You look different, but I cannot say what has changed. You look more beautiful somehow."

She did not blush this time. It was more that she glowed. "I've had surgery on my face. I had my jaw trimmed to soften it. I had my nose reworked slightly. And I had my Adam's apple removed." She lifted her chin and pointed to the smooth neck. I could see the pink line of the recent surgery. When I studied her face, I could see hints of bruises on her jaw, chin and nose, all well covered with makeup.

I reached over and hugged her. She groaned slightly and pulled back.

"What's wrong?" I asked. She looked down at her chest. A thought dawned on me. "Did you make changes on these too?" I asked, gesturing to her breasts.

"Yep. They're still pretty sore. I was supposed to wait another week, but I just couldn't stand being away from you any longer. I've been on female hormones for quite a while now. I managed to grow breasts but I got pretty spoiled with the ones you got for me. So I decided to enlarge mine to have ones like those."

It took much restraint to not touch them. I had to remind myself that this would cause her discomfort. "Are there other changes to your body?" I asked.

"That's it so far."

"But why did you go away from me to make these changes? I would have supported you in them and cared for you afterward."

She sighed. "I wanted to tell you. I guess I was afraid. I didn't want you to think that I was doing these changes to make you happy. Don't get me wrong; I want you to be happy with the changes. But I wanted them for myself most of all, so I can finally be who I am inside. Was that selfish of me?"

"You did what is right." I was not convinced of this, but I gave her the benefit of the doubt. "It was difficult to be apart from you for so long, but it was necessary. Now we need not be apart again. And yes, I am very happy with the changes that you made."

"I'm glad" she answered. "Actually, I had so much to do while I was gone that it would never have worked to have the pleasant distraction of you around me. I wanted so bad to visit you. My resolve weakened several times. But my face was just a mess to look at then. I guess it was really vanity that held me back."

I looked deeply into her face again. It was not a mess now. She had one of the most beautiful and loving faces I have ever known. My entire being filled with desire and affection. My feelings for her were almost too much to bear.

"You were beautiful before. You are truly exquisite now."

See seemed to melt. She looked deeply into my eyes. "Really?" she asked.

"And your voice is now beautiful too. I will never tire to hear your voice. I was overcome when you first spoke my name."

"Eduardo," she said softly.

I had not exaggerated. The sound of my name from her lips sent me into a partial ecstasy, only half aware of the world about me.

I next spoke without thinking, but my heart was fully behind it. "My lovely, wonderful Emerald, if it was possible I would ask you to marry me."

"Really?" she asked again. For once today, it was she who was shocked.

"I would not say it if I did not mean it." I deeply wished that this was possible.

"How could you want to marry me, knowing my past? Knowing who I was?" She was genuinely concerned.

"You have no past to be ashamed about. You have only a brilliant future. I have no reason for shame on your account. Alas, it is I who should be ashamed to wish to marry you."

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

"I am twenty years your elder, old enough to be your father. I have kept you isolated, out of the gaze of other men. You are so many marvelous things: beautiful, graceful, kind, generous, intelligent, sensuous, loving. Any sane man would desire you. You belong with someone much younger. I ask only that you find a good and honorable man, one who will treat you and respect you as much as you deserve."

"I already have a man like that. I've known a lot of men during my life. It's true that I haven't dated any of them. But I know them and I've heard their thoughts with an honesty that any other woman will never hear. I don't want any of those men. I suppose I could find a younger man to like me, maybe one with lots of money. But none of that is important to me. I have never met any man that can hold a candle to you. I want you and no one else but you."

I must confess that I had to dab my eyes at that moment while I pulled myself together.

"You really are serious about wanting to marry me if you could?" she asked.

"I truly am. It is all that keeps our life together from reaching perfection."

"Can I take a rain check on your proposal?"

"I beg your pardon?" I had heard the expression before, but I did not understand how it could apply.

"I'm in line for what they call 'sexual reassignment surgery'. I've got to do about nine more months of therapy to convince them that I really want and need to become a woman. After I finish that, I'll be surgically altered into a biological woman"

"Is this possible?" I asked.

"It is not just possible. In less than a year, I will be a woman in every way."

I sank down upon one knee. "Dearest Emerald, after that time has passed, will you marry me?"

Tears flowed down her eyes, even as she smiled. "I will" she answered.

I rose to hug her, remembered her condition, and then kissed her instead. "We must celebrate!" I announced.

"I'd like that. But first I have more to tell you. As you know, I was working at home part time but I still had to go into the office for part of the week. It was always hard to masquerade as a boy on those days. When the hormones started to kick in, it became really difficult to hide the changes in my body. I did what I could but people started to talk. I finally got permission to work completely from home for a while. This worked out better but eventually I decided that I wanted to work with other people again but this time as Emerald.

"While I was gone, I quit my job. I was able to cash out a lot of stock options to finance the time off, as well as all of the surgeries and therapies. That includes the surgery next year. That one is really expensive, but I'll still have money left over. During my break, I found another job as Emerald. Only the HR director knows about my past. Once I am legally female, even that won't matter. They are going to let me work from home part of the time. Also, I will get to travel to Europe occasionally. Maybe you can come with me on my trips."

"I do not know what to say. But I will ask: when do you start this job?"

"In three weeks. In the meantime, since we are now engaged, do you think that I could move in with you?"

"I want us never to be apart again, any longer than necessary. You are most welcome."

"I love you Eduardo."

"I love you Emerald."

 

Chapter 12

We talked for a long time about many things. We discussed when she would move in and where her things might go. We had the usual argument about money. She offered to pay the full rent for my flat, which wounded my dignity as a man. As usual, she persisted and we compromised. She would pay half of the rent and other expenses. I would clean the house and cook. As strange as that compromise may sound, this was more agreeable to me. At least my financial problems would be resolved.

Finally we did leave to celebrate with dinner at a local restaurant. It was not lost upon either of us that this was the first time that we had been outside of my flat together.

"I am deeply sorry that I never took you our before," I told her. "I assumed that you would feel uncomfortable in public. At the least, I should have asked."

"Don't feel bad at all," she replied. "I wasn't ready to go out before. I would've just died if anyone you knew figured out that you were with a girl who wasn't really a girl."

"This would not have happened. And even if it had, I would not care. As far as I am concerned you have always been Emerald."

"You are very sweet. In any case, you cooked for me most of the time, so I can't really complain about not going out more."

"But now we will go out more."

"Only if we take turns paying," she suggested.

"I do not wish to spoil a lovely evening with another argument about money."

"Especially when we both know how it will turn out," she said, only half as a joke.

"We have much living to catch up on. And I have many friends for you to meet. May I throw a party in your honor?"

"You are so sweet, you know? I'm not sure that I can handle a party and meeting all of your friends at once. What are they going to think of this woman suddenly appearing in your life?"

"They will think that I am the luckiest of men, of course."

*****

It took some convincing, but Emerald agreed to a kind of debutante party. We scheduled it for the weekend before she was to start her new job. She forbade me from announcing our engagement so soon and I agreed to respect her wishes. I invited all of my old friends in the area, including fellow dancers and colleagues from my university days. I had no new friends to invite; I seldom went out or met with others after my wife died. I had not realized how isolated I had become until I looked at the list of friends that I barely spoke to for years.

It was quite a feat to cram so many people into our little flat. Yet the party was a great success. Emerald shined in this unfamiliar venue. Everyone had a wonderful time. Food, wine and stronger alcohol was consumed in abundance. Dancing continued until late in the night (to the likely dismay of my neighbors). When Emerald and I performed a special Tango for our guests, the studio was hushed and stilled apart from the music and our dancing. When the dance was complete, our audience erupted into generous applause. We were most gratified.

One friend after another confided in me that they were delighted to see me so happy. It is always good to have such truths confirmed. It finally dawned upon me that I was like Emerald in that I had been reborn when we met. The party became a celebration for both of us newly come into the light. I had not seen myself in the eyes of others. While I was constantly reminded of my new life by Emerald's words and actions, I had not fully accepted them. She was highly biased, after all. But my friend's comments could not be dismissed. Emerald and I were truly happy and fulfilled together.

At one point, Emerald and I found ourselves alone in the kitchen. "How are you enjoying yourself? I asked.

"I've never really enjoyed a party before this. I love it!"

"I regret that we could not invite any of your friends tonight."

"You're sweet!" she said, kissing me. "But you forget that I don't have any friends. I like your friends though. They are more interesting than any of the people I've ever hung out with."

"I am happy to share them with you."

"It's a deal!" She kissed me again.

The party ended well into the next morning and we did not sleep after that. There was too much to talk about. Emerald was thrilled by the company and admiration that had been denied her all of her life. It was clear that we would resume the busy social life that I had once enjoyed with my late wife. They were also alike in their love for social contact.

We left off all cleaning for another time. We did not wish for banalities to interfere with a perfect evening. We finally went to bed long after sunrise. It was an ending and a new beginning.

The party marked another new beginning. It was the first time that I had spoken to others about my late wife Maria. After this night, I began to find healing and solace for my grief in conversations with Emerald and with friends who knew Maria. I had loved Maria very deeply; in truth I still loved her. I had felt guilty that I had traded the memory of a dead love for the reality of a live one.

But this was not the case. Emerald did not object to my feelings for Maria. She felt no threat from her; in fact, she encouraged me to speak and show my feelings openly with her. I had never expressed myself so intimately before, even with Maria. To Emerald, Maria was a valued part of my life and history, not a hidden rival.

I often wondered if Maria would be so magnanimous. I expected that she was happy for me. But knowing her temper, I suspected that she was also angry with me. In her prime, she had faithfully resisted the attentions of younger men, as I had done for younger women. I had held out this long, although such female attention grew scarce as I grew older and more reclusive. I hoped that she approved of Emerald, as much as they were alike. While I was concerned that Maria was angry, I was certain that she would forgive me eventually. She could never stay angry with me for long.

*****

This takes us to the present and to the end of my tale. Emerald and I have decided to live our lives to the fullest. We go out regularly, both alone and with others, and argue less about who pays for the check. We have considered whether to prepare to dance competitively. After she fully recovers from her final surgery, we will practice in earnest.

The date of that surgery ever approaches. Afterward, we will be officially and publicly engaged. We cannot help but make early plans for our wedding. It is difficult to imagine that we should be happier still, but we are sure that we will be.

Some may feel that I should not end this narrative until after our happiness is finalized and the story completed. I argue that nothing is really lacking. Our happiness does not depend upon outward changes. Such things are for the benefit of others perhaps more than for our own. The changes will bring a deepening, not a beginning to our happiness.

  

  

  

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