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    Percy
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Waltz (Lacy's Cinderella Story) - 3. Chapter 3

"No, you don't have to know how to use a computer." Lacy paused, listening to the person on the other end of the phone. "No, you don't have to stand for a long period of time and yes, we have free buttons and t-shirts for volunteers."

Lacy twisted the phone cord and tapped her foot anxiously. George Condon was a sweet, old man and usually Lacy enjoyed speaking with him. Seniors were the other large population of campaign volunteers and many of them made frequent calls to headquarters, ostensibly to ask a question but really, just to talk. Lacy didn't mind long conversations with the retirees; she knew they were often isolated and lonely. Volunteering was a good way to re-connect them to their community. But, it was now late in the day and the women in the office were shutting down their PCs and gathering handbags, preparing to head out for their shopping expedition. Lacy needed to get ready too.

Finally able to get off the phone, she looked over at Carla and Ruby, the two women closest to her. They were fixing their hair in the dim reflection on their monitors and talking about which shops they should visit first, the mall or the discount stores next to it. "I just need to pop into the Ladies. Be right back." Lacy addressed them both generally and Carla nodded absently at her. Lacy grabbed her plum bag and hurried to the restroom.

She got back to the office area just as all the women were headed out the door. "See you tomorrow Lacy." One of them called as they filed out.

"Yes, have a good evening." A few more of the women waved a cheery good-bye as they departed.

Lacy's throat tightened, the casual rejection strangling her, leaving her disoriented. Not one of them realized she had intended to join them. It hadn't even crossed their minds that she would want to go, that she was as interested in shopping for Fiesta as the rest of them were. She couldn't bring herself to correct them, to nonchalantly shrug off their good-byes with an "I'm going with you."

The office was empty when they left and Lacy stood alone in the middle of the room, late day sun filtering through blinds that had been drawn closed against its glare. Defeat coated her, clinging like a damp bathing suit on dry skin. Finally she moved, stiffly sitting at her desk. "Freak!" her mind screamed at her. "you're not one of the girls. You're not one of the boys. You're just a freak."

"Shut up." She whispered to the voice and defiantly turned her computer back on. Might as well work tonight. Work is what had gotten her through high school, through college and grad school. It was an escape, a way to focus on something other than the thoughts in her head, especially when they got ugly.

*****

Drew stepped back into the shadows of the hallway. He'd arrived at his campaign office via the back entrance just in time to witness the thoughtless abandonment of Lacy by the other women on his staff. He wasn't sure what the occasion was, but it had been obvious to him that Lacy had expected to join them until their offhand 'farewells' to her.


The rejection had to have hurt, and the impulse to walk over and take her in his arms was strong. His initial attraction to her hadn't waned in the month since she'd first walked into his office. If anything the attraction had deepened to desire. This wasn't the first time he'd fought off the impulse to touch her, although it was the first time that impulse had been motivated by compassion.

Surprisingly, it hadn't been difficult to come to terms with his desire on a personal basis. Lacy was lovely, intelligent, and moved and spoke with exquisite grace. Drew wasn't concerned with what labels people might put on his attraction to a transgendered woman, labels that surely would be thrown at him if they were to start an affair.

His caution in pursuing Lacy had instead been much more typical. She was a good 10 years younger than he and she worked for him. Not that these were insurmountable obstacles, after all, his mother was 10 years the junior of his father and the two of them had met when she started working as his secretary. Despite that successful example, Drew was realistic. He was in politics and if all he was feeling was momentary infatuation, he wasn't about to subject either Lacy or himself to the public scrutiny that would surely entail from a relationship between the two of them.

Lately he had concluded that what he was feeling was certainly not a momentary infatuation. He was an experienced man and he knew that he had never met a woman who enthralled him like Lacy did. While the two of them had worked together in plenty of group meetings, they had spent no time alone together in the last month. It looked like events had intervened tonight to change that. Allowing his footsteps to sound heavily on the tiles in order to announce his presence, he walked over to where Lacy was working.

"They're not letting you join their reindeer games, huh?" Drew leaned against her desk. Lacy's head was tilted down and a swath of her heavy hair had again escaped its clip, shielding her face from his eyes. She paused her keyboarding, but didn't look up.

"You saw that?" the question came out as an accusation. "A gentleman would have pretended he hadn't."

Drew smiled to himself. At least she still had some spunk in her. "I'd rather be honest. Even if it's not the most gentlemanly course of action."

Lacy gave a gentle snort to that response, but seemed to relax a little. She still wasn't looking up at him.

"Why do you out yourself to people, Lacy?" Drew asked. It was something he'd been curious about, particularly since from what he gathered, most transpeople didn't advertise the fact that they were transgendered once they started to pass. "You must know that most people wouldn't give a second thought to your gender based on how you look now."

"I out myself because I'm young and stupid." Lacy said bitterly.

"Just young" Drew reached out and gently tucked her hair back behind her ear so that he could see her face. "Go on."

Lacy finally looked up at him, silver eyes fierce. Drew wanted to understand this about Lacy, but he could see that she wasn't sure he would. Her words started slowly, "There are lots of reasons. On the positive side, I am proud of my history. While it's weird and freakish and incomprehensible to a lot of people, it was my experience and I don't want to deny it."

"It shaped you who you are today. Accomplished. Poised."

Lacy looked at him suspiciously but his sincerity must have been apparent because she relaxed again, gave a little nod and continued talking. "In some ways, it's easier to just be out. If it's generally known that I'm trans, I don't have to keep coming out again and again."

"And that's the negative too, right?" Drew asked, starting to comprehend. "People have the chance to reject you before they get to know you. Their own prejudices get in the way."

Lacy gave a sad little shake of her head. "I still think it's easier on me than having them get to know me and reject me when they find out."

"Mmm" Drew considered that. The rejection would be more personal, and more painful, if there were already a relationship in place. He supposed he could understand her reasoning, as much as a person who didn't have to live the experience ever would.

"Thank you, Lacy."

"For what?"

"For sharing that with me. For trusting me."

"Well, we are running you as the candidate who's trustworthy." Lacy tried to lighten the atmosphere and Drew let her, standing up from her desk.

"Since we're both working late tonight, how about we order a pizza and go over the latest poll data in the conference room?"

*****

They ended up working quite late, the poll results leading them to immerse themselves in their respective projects. Both remained in the conference room, however, tapping at laptops as the leftover pizza slices grew cold and soggy in their cardboard box.

They talked as they worked, sometimes discussing campaign plans, but also learning more about each other's interests and pasts. They had both been raised in well off families, their fathers were lawyers and their mothers had done the rounds of ladies clubs, service on non-profit boards and dragging of their children to golf and tennis lessons. Drew and Lacy discovered they had gone to rival private schools as children, albeit they were ten years apart in age. As they talked, Drew realized that Lacy's childhood matched his childhood experiences closely. He tried to imagine what it would have been like to have had all those experiences in the wrong gender. How confusing that would have been for him, for any child.

"So did your parents enroll you in 'fancy dance' lessons in junior high, or had adults given up on that by the time you got to be that age? All of my friends and I spent a summer of Saturdays learning the waltz at Ethel Schumacher's studio." Drew grinned over at Lacy as they continued their reminiscing.

"Gawd, I wish it had fallen out of fashion by the time I was that age, but no, it was still the thing to torture your kids with formal dance lessons." Lacy shook her head. "I still can't figure out why, no one dances that way anymore. They didn't even when our parents were kids."

But then Lacy looked at him with a sudden realization. "But you do those old fashioned dances, don't you? At events like next week’s Fiesta." She gave a little laugh. "You have actually put all those dreary Saturday afternoons in Ethel's studio to use."

"Indeed" Drew looked at her in mock sternness. "And are you ready to dance at the ball? Everyone waltzes, or tries to. If we checked, I'm sure we'd find that Ethel Schumacher's studio and all the other dance instructors in town have been booked for months."

"I do not dance." Lacy pronounced grandly. "Not since I finished that class when I was 12."

"But you have to dance at the ball. It's part of the whole experience." Drew stood up from the table. "C'mon we can practice here. It will all come back to you."

Lacy became alarmed as she realized he was serious. "No. No way. There is nothing that's going to "come back to me." All that would happen is I'd step on your toes and I'm a big enough girl to break them." She paused. "Besides, we don't have music."

"Easy to fix, let's find some waltzing music on the web." Drew did a quick search and the strains of Blue Danube streamed through the tinny laptop speakers. "So, I take it you never had to waltz following a lead before?"

Lacy watched him, bemused. "No, not really." she answered slowly. "I may have tried alone, in my bedroom, to turn the steps around but I've never danced without leading."

"So" Drew held his arms out in the traditional dance pose. "Let's see how you do."

Lacy stepped gingerly into his embrace. She was only three inches shorter than his own 6'4" but the sheer bulk of the man made her feel small. His large right hand splayed across her back over the cotton t-shirt she wore, while his left held her right reassuringly. His body heat was intoxicating and she wanted to melt into him. They hadn't even moved and she already felt out of breath.

They danced awkwardly at first, both of them tangling elbows and feet like they were still twelve. Drew just chuckled and with every attempt Lacy felt less self-conscious. Eventually the waltz started coming together. Lacy relaxed more into the music, not trying to anticipate or direct where Drew would go and just letting her feet move in the steps. Her foot did land on his a couple times, but nothing broke and he hardly even flinched.

As they danced, Drew leading them through increasingly bolder turns around the conference room, Lacy knew there was no fighting the fact that she was falling hard for this man. She had never met anyone so comfortable with her, who made her so comfortable with herself. It was a bittersweet knowledge; leave it to her to choose the most widely desired bachelor in town to fall head over heels for. He could have anyone – this dance was just him being nice to her.

Finally they made it through the whole song without a misstep and at the end Drew pulled her close in a continuous swirl, round and round in the small open area next to the conference table. Lacy was dizzy and breathless when they stopped, clutching at Drew's shoulders for balance as she looked at him.

She saw her own desire reflected back at her and caught her breath in surprise. He wanted her. There was no mistaking that look, cheekbones flushed with more than just the exertion of their dance, eyelids heavy and arousal bright in his eyes. He tilted his head forward, obviously intent on kissing her, and Lacy panicked.

"No" she pushed herself out of his arms and stepped back.

"No, she repeated forcefully. "If you want to experiment, go find some other transgirl, but leave me alone. I'm not here to satisfy your curiosity."

Color drained from his face in shock and he stood stone still, her words ringing as resoundingly as a slap across his face. Without bothering to gather her things from the conference room, she turned and ran out, grabbing her bag from her desk and pushing her way out the door and into the night. She bolted down the block and into one of the ever-present cabs queued for the hotel across the street. The taxi pulled away just as Drew appeared at the door, calling her name.

Through the rear window, she watched him smack the side of the building hard as he realized she was gone. Lacy leaned her head back in the cab and let the tears fall. Her words had been cruel and undeserved and wrong. She knew even as she spoke them that Drew had been earnest in his desire. His kiss would have been the most honest affection ever shown to her and she'd ruined it, deliberately sabotaging the beautiful moment with her profanity. The words she'd spoken echoed in her head and she couldn't get the look of shock on Drew's face out of her mind. She must really hate herself. She didn't deserve happiness. Ever.

Copyright © 2012 Percy; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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