Mary Elizabeth Nelson

By Terry Brewer

Mary Elizabeth Nelson is the oldest child in a conservative Roman Catholic family in a wealthy suburb of San Francisco. As a sophomore at Berkeley in 1983, Mary is discovered by her mother in a "compromising position" with another woman, and she is summarily disowned.

She moves to New York and works as a waitress. While auditing an Austen seminar at NYU, she falls for fellow student, Betty Anne Elliot. The two foolishly share one night of passion before Betty decides to marry and disappear from Mary's life.

That is, until twenty years later when she calls still-single, successful writer Mary out-of-the-blue. Can the romance they had that first day blossom into love and passion?

• Language: English
• Publisher: JMS Books LLC
• Release date: Jul 22, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463136935

Book preview

Mary Elizabeth Nelson

By Terry Brewer

Copyright 2020 Terry Brewer

ISBN 9780463136935

Copyright © 2019, 2020 Terry Brewer

All rights reserved.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the express written permission of the author.

Cover photo by Photo by Alexander Solodukhin on Unsplash.com.

* * * *

Author’s Note: This story contains explicit scenes of consensual sex.

* * * *

Mary Elizabeth Nelson

By Terry Brewer

Introduction

Catching Up

New York, New York

Meeting Betty

Working Girl

Mary and Betty

A Devoutly-Wished-For Consummation

Gerry

Thanksgiving 2010

The Next Generation

Coming to New York II

Marriage

Introduction

In the first pages of The Neallys, Suzanne Nelson and Annie Baxter complete their drive across the US from California to an apartment in a brownstone at 17 West 87th Street on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. It is less than 100 yards from Central Park. Waiting on the stoop for them is Mary Elizabeth Nelson. She is Suzanne’s Aunt, and the two met only twice before, at a disaster of a Thanksgiving years earlier.

In the course of Suzanne’s story, we hear a great deal about Mary. But some things are glossed over with yada yada yada. Mary’s story is worth her telling. This is that story. Most of it takes place before that summer day when Suzanne and Annie saw her on West 87th Street.

Catching Up

My name is Mary Elizabeth Nelson. Much of my life and much of my story turns on the fact that I am a lesbian. Thus my initials, MEN, are ironic. Stealing from Dickens, this is my story but whether I am its hero is up to you, dear reader.

I was born on July 8, 1963, in a hospital near Mill Valley, California, an affluent suburb north of San Francisco. My younger brother, Billy, was born there on August 5, 1966.

I am an inch or two taller than average. My hair is jet black and since I turned forty-five any gray that might otherwise be present has been chemically repressed. My face can best be described as stern. It would fit well for any number of hard-woman characters that populate any number of 19th Century novels. Particularly when combined with my broad shoulders and big thighs. A swimmer’s body.

My father, William, went to Stanford and was a lawyer at a big firm in San Francisco. My mother, Mary, went to a small Catholic college across the Bay. She did volunteer work for our Mill Valley Church.

I knew I was gay early on. Boys never grew on me and from high school, my looks lingered on older girls. When I discovered the joy of masturbation it was always with thoughts of a girl. Or woman. Before college, I had a few make-out sessions when we were sure we were alone, but we—all well-closeted—were all terrified of being caught. Nothing but drive-bys. None got past the kissing stage. But my lips and tongue confirmed what every other part of my body knew. That I was gay.

I was a good student. Smart and clever with a creative streak. Some of my teachers recognized it. I had a crush on two or three of them. I could have gone to my father’s alma mater, Stanford, but chose Cal-Berkeley. He made enough that financial aid was not happening and my parents foot the bills for my tuition and room-and-board. I kept what I earned over the summer.

Things, of course, changed when I got to Berkeley. It is there I met Laura Johnson, the first woman with whom I was intimate. We had a