After eating the girls got up to leave, stopping in the ladies’
room on the way out to touch up their faces. Billie got a bit of a
jolt when he realized what he was actually doing. He couldn’t
believe how easily it came to him – not that he wasn’t thinking
every second about his deportment and demeanor – and it caused him
another familiar twinge of uneasiness. What would become of Bill,
anyway? He would have to go back to that life soon. Billie shrugged
off these thoughts; he couldn’t afford to think about being Bill
while passing as a girl in the middle of a ladies’ rest room. Bill
would just have to wait, maybe until morning at least. He finished
his lipstick, snapped his handbag shut, and breezed out of the
restaurant with Cynthia and Loretta.
Outside was a cool, dry, clear Southern California evening. Billie
felt the air wash over his bare shoulders and nearly bare legs and,
for a moment, he felt almost naked. In away he was something much
more dramatic than naked, he thought. That was interesting, where
did that thought come from? He tried to hang onto it, to nurture
the idea of his nakedness into something that would make sense out
of the roller-coaster of feelings that this masquerade was causing
him. He lost the train of thought quickly though as the other two
girls announced the next stop: Zorba’s Dance Club.
Zorba’s was a popular hangout for the young, good-looking, and
single crowd. It was this last qualification that caused Billie so
much surprise when Loretta and Cynthia told him that that was where
they were going.
“Look,” Billie protested, “three single women walking in there
alone are only looking for one thing.”
“Billie, I’m surprised at you,” Cynthia admonished. “One thing you
are about to learn is that girls do this sort of thing just to have
some fun. If a guy you’re dancing with expects more, then he’ll
just have to sort it out later when he’s alone in his apartment.”
“Just relax and have fun, Billie,” said Loretta. “No guy can make
you do anything you don’t want to do. you don’t even have to
dance.”
That put Billie at ease. Of course, he wouldn’t dance. It was so
simple. He would just sit and watch the people. Still, he checked
over his nails one last time as they pulled up to the valet.
Billie had seen ads for Zorba’s on television before, but that
didn’t begin to prepare him for the audio-visual explosion that he
found inside. The main room was huge, so huge that in fact he
couldn’t make out the other end of it at all. A Grecian fountain
sat in the center of the dance floor, and smaller ones adorned the
walls and private booths to either side of the room. The
combination of throbbing music and the maze of lighting seemed to
alert the senses. Everywhere were young women dressed in the
sexiest, most fashionable clothes, although Billie’s dress was a
bit more daring than most. The girls sat down in a semi-circular
booth. Billie soon noticed that Loretta and Cynthia were whispering
to each other and smiling while looking at him.
“What are you two talking about now?” he asked while shaking his
hair out.
Loretta smiled at him. “Billie, we were just noticing how
incredibly feminine you look and act, it’s amazing.” Billie grinned
with satisfaction. “Do go on,” he said.
Cynthia laughed, then said, “Your legs are so slender that every
other girl here is going to turn green! And the way that dress hugs
your butt – whew!”
All three of them laughed.
It wasn’t long before an occasional man could be noticed orbiting
their booth, trying to decide which one of them to ask to dance.
One pair of rather self-confident looking guys finally walked right
up to them.
“Which two of you attractive ladies wants to dance?” one of them
asked.
Billie cringed at their tired approach (wasn’t that one of Bill’s
old lines?), but he had to admit that he was flattered by it.
Cynthia and Loretta quickly agreed to dance, and they got up to
join the two guys. Billie realized only then that he had not felt
the least bit jealous of the notion of other men dancing with his
wife. He wanted her to have fun, and he knew that she wouldn’t lead
any of these guys on, so he watched her dance. Billie was watching
so intently that he didn’t even notice the man that was leaning
across the table, until the man spoke up.
“Hi,” he said.
Billie turned with a start. When he saw what it was he touched a
hand demurely to his chest. “I’m sorry, you scared me for a
moment,” he said with a smile.
“Oh, sorry.”
“That’s okay.”
The man came around and leaned in closer. “My name’s Mike. Would
you like to dance?”
Billie was so amazed at being asked he didn’t even hear himself
say, “Yes.”
Mike led Billie onto the dance floor. The music was loud, so there
wasn’t much opportunity to talk. That was okay with Billie, though.
He was just enjoying one more new experience. Dancing in high heels
was another new feeling. Billie found that he couldn’t move his
feet around quite as much as he normally would, but he could swivel
his hips more.
When they returned to the booth they found that Loretta and Cynthia
were already back, with the two guys hovering over them. Billie
slipped into his seat and introduced Mike, who offered to buy the
ladies a round of drinks.
Billie looked at the other two girls, then spoke up. “No thanks,”
he said.
Mike composed himself. “Well, could we dance again later, Billie?”
Billie felt sorry for Mike. “Sure,” Billie said, “why not?”
Mike left with a grin on his face. Billie turned to the girls, who
were excusing themselves from the other two gentlemen. They left
looking not quite so triumphant.
“What happened?” asked Billie.
“They were getting a little pushy,” replied Loretta.
“Mike seemed nice,” Cynthia chimed in. “I think he likes you.”
Billie felt his face blushing. “Yeah, well, he’s all right, I
guess. Wait a second! What am I saying?”
The girls stayed until about one a.m., dancing with just about
every unescorted guy in the place. Billie danced with Mike a couple
of more times, and Mike said that Billie was about the most
gorgeous woman he had ever spoken to. This caused Billie no end of
conflicting feelings of flattery and panic.
When they went to bed that night, Billie fell asleep almost
immediately.
Once again, Billie was on the dance floor with Mike, except
everything was quite different, not the least of which was that
they were not on the same dance floor, but on one in a nineteenth
century style grand ballroom. Mike wore gray and black tails,
making him much more distinguished looking than he had been
earlier. Billie wore a beautiful formal dress of jade green taffeta
with lots of ruffles and a very low cut front, satin elbow length
gloves, and satin pumps. They were whirling around the ballroom to
the sound of a waltz which Billie didn’t recognize, but if he had
been able to recognize it he would have recognized it as Mozart.
All that Billie understood was that a very stiff looking orchestra
was playing at one end of the hall, and they sounded beautiful. The
next thing Billie noticed was that Mike had changed. He had not
changed clothes, but he had changed into Dave. Dave was wearing the
same clothes that Mike had been wearing though, which was of
dubious comfort to Billie, for neither of the gentleman had
bothered to ask the lady if Dave could cut in. No matter, Dave
seemed to know how to waltz just as well, and Billie tossed her(?)
head back and laughed with delight. Dave seemed unable to take his
eyes off of Billie’s rather pronounced cleavage, and when the waltz
ended Billie demurely drew a lacy fan over her (yes, why not her?)
chest. Dave offered his hand to walk Billie to a chair.
“Champagne for the lady?” Dave asked.
Billie smiled. “Yes, please.”
Dave was immediately standing in front of Billie with a bottle of
champagne and only one glass.
“M’lady looks absolutely exquisite tonight,” Dave said as he poured
champagne into the lone glass. He handed the glass to Billie.
“And what will you drink out of, Mister Thomas?” Billie asked.
Dave kneeled in front of Billie. “Man could not forge a more
delicate vessel, than the lady’s slipper.” With that he gently
lifted one of Billie’s white-stockinged legs and removed the high-
heeled satin pump, revealing her soft, white-webbed toes and
painted nails. He poured champagne into her shoe and, without
taking his eyes off of Billie’s, began to sip from the heel end. He
gently massaged Billie’s stocking clad foot with his free hand.
This caused Billie to blush somewhat, and she furiously waved the
fan at her face. When Dave finished the champagne he began to lean
in toward Billie, saying, “Now let me drink from those lips, which
are the color of dark wine, and which make one more drunk when
simply tasted than would a sea of champagne.” He pressed his lips
to Billie’s, gently at first, but then more urgently, until Billie
felt herself suffocating in Dave’s passionate embrace.
Billie woke up with a start. Indeed, he found having a dream about
being kissed by his head employee to be a rather distressing way to
start the day. It was day, he was sure of that. Loretta was already
up, apparently preparing breakfast. Billie sat up in the bed,
trying to get a mental grasp of the situation. He pulled off his
hair net and shook his head, allowing the long locks to fall on his
shoulders. Okay, he had long hair, that much was confirmed. He was
also wearing a lavender nightgown, which felt really good against
his skin. He took a furtive glance at his chest. Yes, two rather
well developed breasts were there, as he had expected. He ran a
finger across the top of them, feeling their softness. His
fingernails were long and slender, painted with a ruby polish. With
these observations in mind, Billie was now certain that the dream
had started in the grand ballroom, and was now definitely over.
Something else still tugged at his insides, though. Billie realized
that he was excited, even though he had found the dream to be
absolutely revolting. This put a completely new fright in him, and
he decided that he would be better off having breakfast with his
wife than sitting here thinking about such things. He slipped into
his pink marabou pumps and went to wash his face and put on a
little makeup.
“You have a good night’s sleep?” asked Loretta as Billie sat down
to a breakfast of fruit and juice.
“Yes, yes, terrific,” answered Billie without looking up from the
table.
“That’s good, ’cause we’re going to the beach today.”
Billie looked up. “We are?”
Cynthia arrived soon after Billie had taken a shower and put on his
makeup for the day. Loretta had told him to be sure to ‘Nair’ his
body again, and he had done so. His body felt baby smooth, from his
breasts down to his toes. Afterward Loretta called Billie into the
bedroom.
“I have something for you to put on,” she said as he entered the
room. she held up what appeared to Billie to be a very skimpy
looking flesh colored garment.
“What is it?” asked Billie.
“It’s called a cache garment. Cynthia got it from the theater
supply store. It’s used by female impersonators, and it will allow
you to wear a bikini today.”
Billie took the lightweight garment and held it up. Loretta got out
a metallic print French-cut bikini and laid it out on the bed.
“Be sure everything’s lined up okay,” Loretta said with a giggle.
“Cynthia and I will be waiting in the living room for you to model
it.” With that she left the room.
Billie took off his nylon house-robe and stood naked before the
mirror. He stepped into the garment and pulled it up his legs. He
had some difficulty getting it over his hips, because it was very
tight. He didn’t line up his privates quite right at first, which
caused some pain when the garment snapped down on him. With this
incentive in mind, he got it right the second time.
Billie was immediately struck by the dramatic difference it made in
his appearance. He could not make out one lumpy trace of his
masculinity now. The cache garment was the same color as his skin.
He could just as well have been a naked woman standing there,
staring dumbfounded in the dressing mirror. Billie could hardly
wait now to get the bikini on. The top was a bandeau style, with an
optional halter strap that Billie chose to tuck into his bustline.
The cups fit his breasts perfectly, exposing just the right amount
of soft flesh above them. He pulled on the bottom. The waistband
came up above his rounded hips, blending in magically with the
cache garment. Billie couldn’t get over how exciting this effect
was, and for a moment he lost himself in his feminine reflection.
He then remembered that the girls would be waiting. He slipped into
his light tan colored, high heeled slides, and put on Loretta’s
white nylon beach robe. Before entering the living room, he decided
to put on his gold ankle bracelet. He fluffed up his hair and
stepped into the living room, one leg at a time.
At first, all Cynthia and Loretta could see were a pair of slender,
smooth legs poking out from around the corner of the hallway. Then
the rest of Billie entered and he strutted toward them. His long
mane of hair fell on the shoulders of the beach robe, which he kept
wrapped tightly around himself. He turned his back to the girls and
slowly untied the belt of the robe, then slid the robe down his
back, first exposing his creamy white, bare shoulders, then his
well rounded hips. Finally, he let the robe fall on the floor, and
he turned to meet the wide-eyed stares of Cynthia and Loretta.
“This is just incredible!” Cynthia exclaimed. “From now on you are
definitely one of the girls!”
“Billie, you look perfect!” Loretta declared. “I’d be glad to have
you as one of my girlfriends, if you don’t mind.”
Billie gave an embarrassed grin. “Sure, why not?”
“All right then, girls,” said Cynthia, “let�s go to the beach!”
The three girls decided to drive up the coast highway a few miles
to a secluded beach that they knew of, where there would be fewer
pesky teenagers to have to put up with. Billie stepped out of his
slides as he reached the edge of the thick, soft sand. The sky was
perfectly clear, and a breeze came in off of the Pacific, bathing
him in the cool ocean air. With the shoes dangling from one hand,
Billie led the other two girls to a good sunning spot. The girls
spread out their towels and began to help each other with their
suntan lotion. Billie relished the feel of the sweet smelling oil
as he rubbed it into his cleavage and over his curvy thighs.
Loretta put some on his back. Billie laid down on his stomach,
undoing the bikini top strap in back, as he had seen other women do
to prevent tan lines. He made a mental note to remember not to sit
up too fast.
The girls were soon interrupted by a frisbee, which fell right in
the middle of them, bouncing off Cynthia’s fanny before coming to
rest in the sand. Billie closed his top. The girls sat up to see
the culprit coming toward them, a male culprit, with a big ‘gee-
I’m-sorry-I-don’t-know-what-happened’ grin on his face, and two
male co-culprits following close behind.
“We’re in trouble,” said Cynthia with a giggle.
“You’re in trouble,” Billie corrected.
“Stop it, you two,” said Loretta.
The first of the frisbee enthusiasts stopped at the girls’ feet,
put his hands on his hips, and smiled. “Hi, I’m Doug,” he said.
“How profound,” said Billie under his breath. Cynthia hit him on
the back. “Ouch!”
The other two guys caught up with Doug. “You find the frisbee,
Doug?” one of them said while staring at the ladies.
“Yeah,” said Doug. “Since we interrupted these gorgeous babes, I
thought we should invite them to play.”
Billie stammered, “Oh, no, we couldn’t-”
“Sounds great!” said Cynthia. She grabbed the frisbee and pranced
out onto the open beach. “Come ones Billie, Loretta!”
Loretta got up, and Billie followed.
The game of frisbee was going rather nicely, Billie thought after a
short time. These guys seemed to just want to toss the frisbee, and
nothing else. Billie thought that the slender women playing among
the muscular guys looked like three gazelles prancing around in a
buffalo corral. Loretta took pictures of the game, getting Billie
falling back into Doug’s arms while trying to catch the frisbee,
and also lying on his stomach, perched on his elbows, with one
sleek calf raised in the air.
When they finished playing, the guys prepared to leave. Doug came
back up to the girls.
“So, would you girls like to go out tonight?” he asked.
Loretta and Cynthia deferred to Billie, who politely declined.
“Well, it’s been fun. Take care,” he said. He rounded up the other
two and left.
On the way back to the house, Billie reclined in the back seat. He
noticed that Cynthia was staring at him with a benign grin on her
face.
“What’s up with you?” Billie asked her.
Cynthia turned all the way around to face Billie, as if she had
been waiting to be asked that very question. “Billie,” she began,
“have you ever considered modeling?”
Billie drew a lightly tanned knee up to his chin. He thought about
the question for a moment. Was she serious, or just ribbing? “No,
not really,” he finally said. “Why?”
“I don’t mean full time or anything, you know, not like a Paulina
Porizskova. But I have a contact with a mail order fashion company
that needs models for their catalogues.”
Billie let out a sigh. “Come on, girl, that’s crazy. Me? A model?”
“No, really, you’re perfect,” Cynthia insisted. “They deal mostly
in formal wear, so they’re looking for women who look just a little
older than the average eighteen year old. But they want slender,
gorgeous women all the same.”
Billie shook his head in thought. “It’s not that it doesn’t sound
like fun, it does. But this is going to have to end soon.”
“It doesn’t have to end soon,” Loretta suddenly chimed in.
Billie couldn’t believe it. “Don’t you want your husband back?” he
asked.
“I have my husband,” Loretta answered. “My husband is living, which
is a miracle in itself, and living as a happy, self-assured woman
for the time being. I think that she should take advantage of every
opportunity with this new lease on life.”
Billie pondered this. He had never considered how happy he was
while doing this. Wasn’t it his recovery that had been making him
so content? Or was it the discovery of a part of him that he had
never known before? He found some pleasure in what he had been
doing, that much was certain. But his pleasure center and his self-
image as a man had been like two locomotives on a collision course
ever since that first day home from the hospital. Billie touched
one of his earrings while staring down at his painted toenails.
His hair was blowing in his eyes, distracting him from his
thoughts. He reached into his beach bag and pulled out a couple of
barrettes, then used them to pin his hair back. He was suddenly
struck by how easily he had done this; it had involved no real
thought at all. He decided to give Cynthia’s suggestion a chance.
“What do we do first?” he asked Cynthia.
Cynthia squealed with enthusiasm as she explained what had to be
done.
The following Monday morning, Cynthia arrived to take Billie to
Cora’s beauty salon. She had already arranged for Billie to get a
professional makeover and hairstyle that day.
Billie wanted to be his absolute stunning best. He put on a
lavender garter belt, and slid a pair of sheer suntan, lace top
stockings onto his legs, attaching them to the garters. He decided
to wear a violet leather skirt that came just below the knee, and
had a long slit in back. He settled on a blouse that was satiny and
deep blue-purple in color. He put on a gold chain belt and two gold
necklaces, as well as dangling gold earrings. The finishing touch
were a pair of hot lavender, high heeled, leather pumps with the
backs of the heels scooped out.
Billie looked in the mirror to check over everything before going
out. He unbuttoned his blouse a couple of notches, exposing just a
wisp of cleavage and camisole. He sprayed a little of his favorite
perfume right in the center dabbed a little behind each ear, and
then some on the back of the knees. Satisfied with the results, he
picked up his purse and an electric blue leather bolero jacket, and
he followed Cynthia to the car.
Cora waved to them as they entered the salon. An assistant washed
and conditioned Billie’s hair while several women in the salon
complimented Billie on his outfit. Billie smiled to himself; if
only they knew what he really was Cora styled Billie’s hair into
long, draping curls, pinning some of it in back with a butterfly
clip. she then gave Billie the most thorough makeup job he had ever
had. A manicurist painted Billie’s nails with a creamy lavender
polish, which matched his outfit nicely. She then asked Billie to
take off his stockings. He very carefully unhooked the garters and
pulled off the stockings. The manicurist buffed his feet lightly,
rubbed a moisturizer on them, and then painted his toenails the
same color as his fingernails. Once the polish was dry, Billie put
his stockings back on, slipped into his heels, and stood up.
“Billie,” Cora said in a hushed voice, “you could cut the envious
gazes in this room with a knife!”
Billie looked around the room, noticing that all the other women
were staring right at him. He coolly gave them a smile and said,
“Don�t envy me. I wasn’t always this beautiful!”
That seemed to break the tension as the other women turned to each
other with embarrassed little giggles. Cora and Cynthia, in light
of their particular knowledge of the irony of Billie’s remark, had
to struggle to keep straight faces as they escorted him out the
door.
Loretta met Billie and Cynthia at Yvonne’s Photo Studio, where they
had arranged for Billie to do a glamour session for a modeling
portfolio. An assistant escorted Billie to a dressing room. Loretta
and Cynthia followed.
All three girls let out an audible gasp when they saw the racks of
clothes hanging in the dressing room. The assistant suggested that
they start with the outfit that Billie was wearing, then they could
go to some formal wear, and finally some bathing suit shots.
Billie entered the studio, where the photographer was waiting.
“Hi, I’m Paul,” he said while offering Billie a handshake. “I’m
lucky to make a job out of photographing beautiful women like
yourself”
Billie shook his hand, sizing him up as a clean, professional type.
It occurred to Billie that someone like Paul probably wouldn’t even
be fazed if he knew his secret. Paul had already set up some lights
against a soft, white background. He showed Billie the area to
stand in, telling him not to move while he adjusted a light.
“This is the back-light,” Paul said. “We aim it from the opposite
side of the camera so as to make your hair look heavenly, and it
makes the picture more three-dimensional. If you can just feel
where it is, you will be in great shape.”
Billie wondered how he was supposed treed a light. He glanced over
at Cynthia, who was standing to one side of the staging area. They
had agreed that if Billie got stuck as to how to pose, he could
just look over at Cynthia and she would give him poses to mimic.
This came in handy rather quickly, for no sooner had Paul begun to
flash away than Billie drew a blank on new poses. Paul chattered
away about how to hold his hair and turn and so on, but Billie
ended up mimicking Cynthia for most of the first part of the
session. It must have worked, because Paul kept saying ‘great!’ and
‘marvelous!’.
Getting into the second part, in which Billie wore a full length,
silver evening gown, he began to pick up the rhythm of the poses.
Paul had him do several sitting poses, and he was surprised when a
male model appeared in a tux. “Where did he come from?” Billie
wondered aloud. “He comes with the package, apparently,” said
Loretta.
Billie and the tuxedo clad model did several poses with champagne
glasses. Another pose involved the guy kneeling in front of Billie
to adjust the ankle strap of his sandal. This reminded Billie of
his dream of the previous weekend, and it caused him to burst into
a giggle. He tried to cover his mouth.
“Perfect!” said Paul in reaction to the giggle.
Next came a blue, strapless, shirred evening dress with rhinestone
appliqu�s and elbow-length gloves. It hugged Billie’s form
marvelously. The assistant clasped a rhinestone necklace around his
neck, as well as matching bracelets, which looked stunning against
the blue satin gloves. He pulled on a pair of white glitter
stockings and slipped into a pair of scooped out pumps.
“My gosh, Linda Evans should watch out!” exclaimed Cynthia as
Billie strutted back into the studio.
Billie thought that the piece de resistance was a gold metallic,
French cut bikini, with gold leather, high-heeled sandals. The
cache garment did its job wonderfully, because everyone commented
on how sleek and sexy Billie looked in the bikini. Paul’s assistant
laid out a huge black beach towel for Billie to lie down on. The
effect of the gold bikini on the black towel was stunning to say
the least.
Billie was tired when he and Loretta got home that evening. He told
her that he had gained a new respect for models; he had never
realized how much work it was-standing in heels for so long,
turning, twisting, and bending under the hot lights.
Loretta put her arms around Billie and shut him up with a long,
warm kiss. When she pulled away she had Billie’s lipstick on her.
“Billie,” she said while running a fingernail down Billie’s neck to
his chest, “I want you to put on something sexy for me.”
“My clothes don’t fit me yet,” Billie said.
Loretta looked him in the eye. “I don’t mean Bill’s clothes, I mean
Billie’s.”
Billie smiled nervously. “Are you sure?”
Loretta nodded, and kissed him again.
“Okay,” Billie said, and he headed for the bedroom.
Once in the bedroom, Billie took off the outfit that he had worn to
the photo studio that day. He pulled open a drawer and lifted out a
black lace mini-basque with garters and see-through cups. He pulled
it over his body. It fit firmly, but comfortably, slightly slimming
his waist and lifting his breasts into a nicely rounded cleavage.
He slid a pair of black French-seamed stockings onto his legs, and
attached them to the garters. Next he pulled a black lace g-string
panty up over the garters. He fished through the closet to find a
pair of patent leather pumps with five-inch spike heels. He put
them on, feeling the taughtness in his calves as he walked in them.
He removed the gold earrings and replaced them with a pair of
dangling silver ones with rows of tiny rhinestones. He then pulled
on his mid-length black nylon house robe, tied it at the waist, and
walked into the living room.
Loretta sat on the sofa, with an open bottle of champagne on the
coffee table next to a couple of full tulip glasses. She handed
Billie a glass as he sat down next to her.
“Let’s see what’s under the robe,” Loretta said.
“My, you are a naughty one tonight,” Billie teased while standing
to take off the robe.
“You’d better believe it. And I intend to get naughtier.”
Billie untied the belt, and allowed the robe to slide off his
shoulders, down his back. Loretta just sat there for a moment, her
eyes drinking in the sight of Billie in the basque and stockings.
Then she stood, set down her glass, and put her arms around Billie.
“I just want you to know how much I love you,” she said.
Loretta kissed Billie deeply, running her hands over his lace clad
body. Billie felt something stir underneath the cache garment, an
event he hadn’t thought possible until now. Loretta ran a finger
under the edge of Billie’s stocking.
“Let’s go someplace more comfortable,” she said. she took Billie by
the hand, and walked him into the bedroom.
Two weeks later, Billie and Cynthia sat over lunch looking at the
new portfolio.
“These pictures came out so fantastic!” Cynthia said. “I already
have one agent that wants to meet you.”
A chill ran through Billie; he hadn’t been prepared for the notion
that anything would really come of this. “Are you sure we should do
this?” Billie asked.
“Are you kidding? Yes! You paid for this very expensive photo
session, so you might as well do a couple of jobs to get a return
on your investment.”
Billie’s business sense kicked in, and he decided that Cynthia had
a valid point.
“Your portfolio is just marvelous,” agent Liddia Glanders was
saying from across her desk while Billie reached down to hike up a
wrinkle in his pantyhose. “I already have two catalogue companies
that are interested in you. you have the perfect look for their
particular needs.”
Billie looked up. “Which are-?”
“A slender, attractive woman who looks just old enough not to make
their customers feel insulted,” Liddia said. “Are you available
next week?”
Billie gulped slightly. “Yeah, I guess.”
Cynthia was driving Billie home while he complained about what he
was getting into.
“This could go on forever,” Billie said. “What do I do if I wanna’
stop this nonsense?”
Cynthia didn’t answer; her thoughts seemed to be elsewhere.
“Billie,” she began after a long silence, “I�m supposed to ask you
something right now, before we get to your house.”
“This sounds ominous,” said Billie. “Ask away.”
Cynthia cleared her throat. “No matter what happens when you get
home, you have to promise to not get mad at Loretta, to try to be
understanding.”
Billie felt himself starting to panic. “What has she done?”
“Well,” Cynthia said while shifting in her seat, “she�s really just
thinking of you. But you may get the idea that she’s gone too far.
That’s all I can tell you.”
Billie tightened his grip on his purse, and let out an aggravated
sigh.
Loretta greeted them at the door with a smile. She kissed Billie on
the cheek. Billie could tell she was a little bit nervous. He went
on into the living room.
When he got there he stopped in his tracks, his mouth dropped open,
and his purse slipped from his hands.
Dave was sitting on the couch.
Billie closed his eyes, counted to ten, and reopened them.
Dave was still there. “Hello, Billie,” Dave said as he stood up and
began to walk toward Billie.
Billie backed up against the wall. He tried to say something, but
he could only manage to open and close his mouth, which he thought
must have looked rather stupid.
“Yes,” Dave said, “Loretta told me all about it. And I think it’s
great.”
The latter part of what Dave said didn’t register in Billie’s brain
right away. “Loretta!” he yelled.
“What?” came the reply, only inches from his face.
Billie turned to see Loretta standing next to him with an injured
expression on her face.
“Don’t get mad at Loretta,” Dave said.
Billie looked back at Dave. Suddenly something about Dave
registered in his mind. “I had a dream about you recently,” Billie
said.
“Yeah? What happened?” Dave asked.
“You used the most awful come-on. Something out of a bad romance
novel, �Lips like wine,’ or some nonsense like that,” Billie
babbled.
“Who was I coming on to?” Dave inquired.
Billie toyed nervously with his necklace. “Uh, no one specific. I
just-”
“Look, Billie,” Dave began, “like I said, Loretta’s told me
everything, and I think that it’s done you a lot of good.”
“You do?” Billie said, feeling somewhat relieved. “I mean, I’ll be
getting back to being Bill soon, I just have a couple of modeling
jobs, and-”
“That’s fine with me,” Dave reassured. “Look, I now understand why
you’ve been avoiding the office since you got out of the hospital.
I just wanted you to know that it’s fine by me if Billie wants to
run the business for a while. That is, if there’s time between
modeling jobs.” Billie sat down in a stuffed chair, lost in thought
“Just think about it,” Loretta chimed in. ‘These past few weeks
have shown me a person much more content and well-adjusted than
Bill ever was. you may not even be aware of that fact, but it’s
true.”
Billie looked at Cynthia. “Cindy? Do you have anything to add?”
“Yes, I do,” she said. she strode around in front of Billie,
looking him over. “Your slip is showing.”
The other three looked at each other, bursting into laughter.
Billie stood up and gave Loretta a hug.
“All of you are absolutely right,” Billie said. “I have been
happier as Billie than I’ve been willing to admit, and I’d like to
go on like this for at least a little while longer. What do you say
we go out and celebrate?”
That suggestion received a rousing cheer of approval.
“Just one thing,” Billie said. The others fell silent “Keep Dave
and any alcoholic beverages away from my shoes.”
“Huh?” said Loretta.
Billie smiled at them. “I’ll explain later.”