Inconvenient Truths: Newly Chronicles Volume III

By HW Coyle

Living on the edge with nothing but a safety net woven from lies to keep you from tumbling headlong into disaster and disgrace is as dangerous as it is demanding. For Amanda Newly, it is an inconvenient fact of life, one she must deal with every day.
Amanda is a unique college student. Bright and intelligent, she manages to maintain a GPA of 4.0 in a discipline where most of her fellow students are simply happy to survive. To the casual observer, Amanda presents the very image of a young woman who is on the verge of making all her dreams come true. The only thing holding Amanda back from achieving this elusive goal is a past that is totally out of sync with her image as a vibrant young coed, for the girl everyone knows as Amanda started life as Andrew Justin Newly.
In many ways Amanda is still very male, an inconvenient truth she must hide behind a veil of lies from all but a select circle of friends as she struggles to reconcile her past with her future. One aspect of Amanda’s past that threatens to destroy her chances is not of her own making. Tina Anderson, the daughter of a wealthy entrepreneur and one of Amanda’s dearest friends lives under a constant threat of kidnapping, a danger that Amanda once foiled and, as a result, leaves her vulnerable to retribution from those seeking to bring harm to the Andersons.
The journey Amanda Newly makes toward a new beginning is one that is as difficult as it is contentious. For Amanda must step outside the accepted norms, which define who and what we are, in order to discover not only what is right for her, but to build a new life for herself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: TransGender Publishing (imprint of Castle Carrington Publishing)
• Release date: May 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9781990096655

Book preview

Prologue

Pulling up next to the trailer that served as his operations center, Matt Weisman took a moment to observe the activities of his team before climbing out of the company pickup. About two hundred yards or so from where he sat the prototype robotic earthmover, or R.E.M., was merrily digging a trench on the side of a hill. Even after two months into its trials, Matt never tired of watching the weird little contraption do its thing. At moments like this, he felt like a proud father watching his son as he ran down the field on his way to scoring the winning touchdown.

When he had first broached the idea of building a robotic earthmover that relied on cutting-edge computer and GPS technology to do what human operated machines had been doing for decades, he was initially told it was a waste of money and effort. It seemed as if no one was interested in investing in an untested and expensive robotic earthmover when there was a glut of cheaper, more conventional machines capable of doing the same job already on the market. Even when he laid out a detailed cost analysis, proving his concept was not only cost effective but more efficient, no one took his idea seriously. No one, that is, except Theodore Anderson, the founder, owner, and CEO of Anderson Inc. Always on the lookout for the next big idea as well as promising young talent, Theodore Anderson gave Matt a shot at proving his theory.

The project, his project, hit more than a few snags along the way. At one point, it was almost canceled. Matt thought about this as he watched Amanda, the name his team had given the prototype, stop digging when ‘her’ claw like scoop hit what they referred to as its maximum work reach. Automatically, the scoop’s arm retracted into the carry position. Only after it was seated in its proper travel position did the curved support blade attached to the front of the R.E.M. lift up off the ground. When it was also securely stowed away, eight ant-like legs lifted the entire machine up a foot before crawling forward until the onboard GPS signaled that Amanda was in the correct position to continue digging. Slowly Amanda settled down, dropped its support blade, unfolded the scoop’s arm, and took up digging right where it had left off before the move.

The addition of the forward support blade, an idea as simple as it had been obvious in retrospect, had saved the project. The fact that it took a young female engineering student to come up with it was still a wee bit galling to a man like Matt Wiseman who held a master’s in electrical engineering as well as a second in Mechanical Engineering from MIT. Granted, the young woman in question was very bright. Still, to see the project that could very well be his big break saved by a mere college student had been hard on his ego. Had she not been as charming and drop-dead gorgeous as she turned out to be, Matt was convinced he would have held a life- long grudge against her.

Easing back into his seat, a smile began to creep across his face as he thought about that girl. At five eight and, as best he figured, somewhere around 140 pounds, how could someone not be infatuated by Amanda Newly, his dream machine’s namesake. She was intelligent, witty, charming, and...

Matt’s meandering thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sight of the mechanical Amanda coming to a complete stop mid-cycle. Lurching forward, he grabbed the wheel. Oh no, don’t do it, he muttered as he watched a white pick-up following the robotic earth mover pull up next to it. Please don’t do it, Matt called out even though he knew he had no chance of being heard. Throwing his door open, he prepared to climb out and shout, but it was too late.

Up on the hillside, the passenger door of the chase vehicle flew open. A figure sporting a shocking pink safety helmet hopped out, gracefully bounded over to the R.E.M. and immediately began to scale a ladder attached to the side of the earthmover. Unable to watch, he bowed his head and shook it, moaning softly as he did so. She’s doing it.

Slamming the door of his truck, Matt slowly made his way over to the trailer. When he entered the air-conditioned control room he was greeted with grins and snickers from those who were watching the young female who was supposed to be doing nothing more than monitoring the collection of performance data from the safety of the chase vehicle. At the moment, she was sitting precariously perched on the edge of the robotic earthmover’s upper housing, leaning over as she fiddled with something attached to one of its articulated legs.

Ignoring the smirks everyone around him were sporting, Matt grabbed one of the two-way radios sitting on the counter as he continued to watch Amanda finish reattaching a data collection sensor to the robot’s leg. When she was done, she stood up on its roof and waved in their direction.

How many times has she done that today? Matt snapped making no effort to hide his anger.

You mean wave at us? Eric Hoyt quipped. I think this is the first time.

Matt glared at the lean mechanical engineer from Oklahoma. You know what I mean.

This makes it her third trip of the day, Lynn Wong replied before turning to face Matt. You do appreciate that she saves us time every time she does. You know how long it takes to shut the R.E.M. down and securely lock its legs and the scope into the maintenance mode.

Using the radio’s stubby antenna as a pointer, Matt thrust it toward the window in the direction of the girl with the pink helmet and ponytail. I also know she violates established safety protocols every time she does that before we do.

Though everyone knew better then to make light of what Matt was saying, least they only add to his anger, Eric just couldn’t resist. That’s our Amanda.

Peeved, Matt slammed the radio that he had been holding back down on the counter before storming out of the trailer, making his way to where the robotic earthmover was once more clawing away at the earth before it. From her spot on the hillside next to the chase vehicle, the girl in the pink helmet saw Matt coming her way. Instead of waiting for him to reach her, she walked around the rear of the earthmover and toward him.

By the time the two met halfway, most of Matt’s anger had dissipated. What little there was of it left evaporated the instant Amanda stopped, tilted her head to one side, flashed him a smile, and greeted him with a shy, breathy, Hi.

Coming to a halt, Matt took a moment to study the girl everyone involved in the R.E.M. project called Wiseman’s brown-eyed bundle of trouble. Even dressed in a sleeveless white ribbed T-shirt, jeans, and work boots, all of which were covered in dust, mud, and smidges of grease, there was no mistaking the fact Amanda Newly was all girl.

Rather than wait for the lecture she knew was coming, Amanda took the initiative. So, how did your meeting with Teddy go? Is he happy with our progress?

She knew it irked Matt every time she referred to Theodore Anderson as Teddy, a name he insisted Amanda use while she was living at his estate along with his daughter, a girl Amanda’s age who had become something more to Amanda than her best friend.

Mr. Anderson, is quite pleased that we’re ahead of schedule. Matt replied emphasizing the word ‘mister.’

Amanda’s smile noticeably broadened. Oh?

Sighing, Matt folded his arms across his chest as he dropped his gaze. And yes, he knows why we’re ahead of schedule. I filled him in on the extra hours you’ve been putting in during the downtimes helping the maintenance crew service the R.E.M. as well as the manner in which you’ve been keeping the data collection package online and on track.

Playing coy, Amanda cocked her head and clasped her hands behind her back as she shyly averted her eyes, twisting her torso ever so slightly from side to side as she spoke. You didn’t need to tell him that. I enjoy helping the boys tinker with the BOT. It’s fun.

Unable to ignore her little routine, Matt found himself gazing at the girl before him. What were the odds, he wondered, of ever finding another woman with a face, a body, a brain, and a personality like hers who found messing around with a machine like the R.E.M. enjoyable? Somewhere between nil and zilch, he thought.

Now, he mused, if only he could figure out how to reign in some of her wild disregard for safety protocols and procedures that she’d be the perfect woman.

From the roof of the trailer an air horn sounded, signaling the official change over from the day shift to the evening shift. Those who operated and monitored the robotic earthmover during the day as well as collecting technical data on its performance and the stresses being placed upon the working components of the R.E.M. headed off to turn their duties over to the night crew. The R.E.M. named Amanda ignored this daily ritual as it crawled along the side of the hill to its next position. It was the prospect of having a machine that could execute assigned duties around the clock in terrain and climates inhospitable to humans without the need of an on-board operator that made Amanda both unique and valuable. At least that’s what Matt and Mr. Anderson hoped.

The five foot eight Amanda, on the other hand, was glad to hear the blaring horn. So, mister boss man, sir, are you going to humble yourself and join your oppressed proletarian workers tonight at Hanks and listen to us as we bemoan our pitiful lot while drowning our sorrows in cheap beer?

Unable to help himself Matt chuckled. You’re a trip, you know that don’t you?

Amanda gave him a wink. You betcha. Now, I’ve got to be running. While you and Eric can get away going straight from here to Hanks without so much as scraping the mud off your boots, we girls require some serious maintenance before heading out for a night on the town.

Though he was tempted to say something, Matt knew better. Anything he said would be taken wrong, misconstrued, or turned against him by the quick-witted and enchanting brunette before him. Instead, he just stood there as Amanda spun about and began to make her way over to the trailer to finish collating the data she had collected. It wasn’t until she was gone that Matt realized she’d once more managed to avoid a lecture by him on her latest violations of the safety protocols. She knew he had to reprimand her for failing to adhere to them, just as she knew how to keep him from doing so. Shaking his head, Matt began to chuckle. Damn, he mumbled to himself as he watched her wave at him before going into the trailer. She’s good. She’s really, really good.

~

Pausing at the back door leading into the spacious kitchen, Amanda slipped out of her work boots and set them off to one side. The Anderson’s housekeeper and cook, Anna Ulyanov, made it clear to her at the beginning of the summer that she was to take her muddy boots off outside, something Anna even made her husband Gregory do.

You will not track filth into my kitchen, she proclaimed in her rich Ukrainian accent.

Of course, come morning when it was time for Amanda to leave, the boots would always be clean and freshly polished, something she was unable to stop Anna from doing. This habit of Anna’s caused Amanda considerable grief at the test site as her fellow workers went out of their way to mockingly admire her boots each and every day. In the beginning, Amanda had considered fending off their comments by telling them that the housekeeper was polishing them against her wishes but decided doing so would only cause her more woe. She figured the less she said about being a guest at the Anderson estate, the better.

In the kitchen, Amanda ran into Anna who greeted the 23-year-old college junior with a warm smile. Did you have a nice day at work?

Amanda returned the woman’s smile as she made her way over to the sink, took the clean glass Anna always left there for her, and filled it with tap water. Amanda didn’t waste any time regaling the motherly housekeeper with details of what she did at the test site. Anna was definitely Old World when it came to a woman’s place, unable to understand how a girl like Amanda could enjoy the sort of things she did.

Instead, Amanda simply nodded, Yes, I did. We had fun, before taking a long drink of water. Are the Andersons home yet?

Mr. Anderson is in his study and Miss Anderson is in her room.

With glass in hand, Amanda made her way out of the kitchen, informing Anna, before she did, not to bother setting out a place for her at the dinner table.

Making her way past the study, Amanda took a moment to peek in the partially open door. Her host and friend’s father were seated in an overstuffed leather chair reading the Wall Street Journal. Anything exciting going on in the world I should know about?

The sound of Amanda’s voice brought a smile to Mr. Anderson’s face as he peeked over the top of his paper. "Nothing exciting. Same news, different day. How are things going with my other Amanda?"

Without having to give his question any thought, Amanda shrugged and replied in much the same off-handed manner Mr. Anderson had, Oh, nothing spectacular. Another day, another hole.

She knew better than to tell him anything of importance or even hint at what was going on out there. Her employment on the R.E.M. project as a lowly data collector was at odds with her status in the Anderson household, something that made life a bit uncomfortable for her from time to time. It went without saying there were those at the test site who openly suggested she could do no wrong because of her close ties to the Anderson’s. Fortunately, they were in the minority and even they had to grudgingly admit that Amanda more than pulled her own weight when it came to doing her job.

Joining us for supper tonight or are you going to be running with the wolves? Mr. Anderson asked with a glint in his eye.

Amanda grinned. It’s Friday. I’m going to Hanks to kick up my heels. Care to join me?

Mr. Anderson chuckled. I’m afraid if I did, you’d get to see firsthand what they mean when they say, wet blanket. Besides, I don’t think the Texas Twostep is quite my style.

You don’t know what you’re missing, Teddy.

Mr. Anderson winked. Yee-haw.

Making her way upstairs, Amanda passed the door to her room and instead continued on to Tina Anderson’s. Bedroom was not actually an accurate description of her friend’s private suite of rooms consisting of a sitting room, a bedroom, a full bathroom, and a closet almost as large as the apartment that Amanda had once shared with another girl back in college.

After lightly tapping at the door, Amanda opened it without waiting to be invited in. Tina was curled up on a small sofa reading a paperback novel. Side by side, one would be hard pressed to find any difference between the two girls save Tina’s well-coiffed, shoulder-length blond hair. It was their near match in size and stature that had originally brought the two together during their freshman year in college. Since then, their friendship had grown to the point where Tina now treated Amanda as the sister she never had, an attitude Mr. Anderson was happy to encourage and indulge.

Knowing better then to go tromping onto Tina’s snow-white carpet before she’d showered and changed, Amanda stood in the doorway as she chatted with her friend. Hard day at the office?

At the mention of the word office, Tina rolled her eyes. You’d think, after all these years, a man who is supposed to be as smart as Daddy would get it through his thick noggin that I have no interest in becoming his Mini-Me and taking over the company from him so he can run away to Florida to play golf all day.

Amanda knew better. Tina was a certified chip off the old block, something she enjoyed reminding Tina of to her eternal ire. Did you ever stop to think maybe you’re the one who’s being pigheaded? Amanda quibbled.

Tina responded by sticking her tongue out at her friend. No fair. You’re always taking Daddy’s side.

Of course. He’s the one with all the money.

Yeah, but I have all the clothes, Tina shot back. Which reminds me. Tomorrow, we need to hit the stores bright and early. We’ve got a lot of shopping to do before we head off to New York next week.

First off, the last thing you need, girl, is more clothes, Amanda countered even though she knew it was futile to do so. Second, I thought one of your goals in going to New York was to shop.

It is.

Then, why go shopping tomorrow?

Because we can. Now, go shower. Dinner is in half an hour.

Did you forget? It’s Friday night, girl!

Tina made a face. Don’t tell me. You’re going to that bar again to play with the cowboys.

Stepping back from the door, Amanda made a show of putting a hand on her hips and shuffling her feet about as if she was dancing. Yee-haw!

You’re hopeless. You know that, Amanda? The more I try to educate you in the fine arts of being a lady, the more you regress.

Oh please, Amanda snorted waving a hand at her friend. I’ve seen what becomes of those well-manicured ladies. Booooring!

You think Victoria’s boring?

Victoria Stowe was a cardio-vascular surgeon who lived with Tina’s Uncle Edward in New York City. Both Tina and Amanda would be spending a couple of weeks with them in New York to enjoy the city and take care of a few personal matters Amanda needed tending to.

I’ll bet you if Victoria was here, she’d be going with me tonight, Amanda countered, determined to have the last word.

I doubt it.

Next time she visits here, I’ll ask her. I’ll bet she goes.

Tina grinned. You’re on. Now, go away. I’m just getting to the real mushy part of the story.

Her friend’s comment caused Amanda to make a face. How, she wondered, could a girl who was about to enter medical school take such delight in reading trashy romance novels? There simply were some aspects of being a woman Amanda still could not quite fathom and figured she never would.

Retreating to her own room, Amanda looked forward to taking full advantage of this opportunity to relax and be alone for a while. As with Tina’s suite, it was something of an understatement to refer to her little piece of the Anderson mansion as a bedroom. The suite of rooms was a mirror image of Tina’s, consisting of a sitting room furnished in French provincial with a small sofa, a very comfy chair, and an HDTV with DVD player tricked out with a Bose surround sound system. The bedroom was furnished in the same motif with a queen-sized canopy bed. And the bathroom was to die for.

This set of rooms had once been reserved exclusively for Mr. Anderson’s other brother, Richard, who was a senior partner in a California law firm. When Amanda had been allowed to use it instead, during a previous visit, Richard’s two children had caused a row, one Amanda wished had never taken place for it created the sort of enemies she didn’t need, especially given her circumstances. Still, like so many other things in her life she didn’t care for, Amanda had managed to survive the repercussions resulting from that incident, leaving her free to continue her efforts to achieve her most cherished of all goals.

Before heading into the bathroom, Amanda paused to lock the door to her suite. No one would bother her while she was in her room. She knew that. Still, she felt the need to lock all the doors behind her as she went, even the bathroom door. After starting her bathwater and adjusting the temperature to her liking, Amanda stood before the large ceiling to countertop mirror that covered the entire wall over the twin sinks and stared at her reflection.

Even with the smudges of dirt on her face and a filthy white T-shirt she liked what she saw. She wasn’t perfect by any stretch of the imagination. Her nose was a bit crooked thanks to a car accident the previous spring. And there was a slight scar from an old wound that marred her right temple. Overall, however, everything looked exactly the way it should, the way Amanda liked to think of herself.

Unfortunately, that near-perfect image didn’t last as she began to undress. One by one, the imperfections she worked so hard to hide began to appear. After stripping off her T-shirt, Amanda did her best to ignore the scars the Navy surgeons had left behind after laboring away for hours in an effort to save a life that she had done her level best to throw away. Even more disheartening, at least for a few more weeks, was the size of her breasts. Before slipping the straps of her bra down over her arms, Amanda removed the teardrop breast forms that she relied upon to create the illusion she so enjoyed. And while her own breasts were developing nicely, she suspected she would never be able to achieve the sort of figure she longed to have on her own.

As distressing as all of this was to her, the worst was yet to come. It was always a source of embarrassment to Amanda when she finally got down to removing her panties, for they hid the most inconvenient truth of all, the one that made her so special, the one that reminded her, each and every day, that she had once been, and still was in some ways, a boy named Andy.

Chapter One

I arrived at Hanks to find Lynn Wong, Eric Hoyt, and Peter Kaplan already there, seated around a table just off the dance floor. After giving them a wave, I made my way over to the bar where Rita, an older gal with very blond hair, was serving up a round of drinks to a couple of regulars. When she saw me coming, she smiled and gave me a nod before reaching into the cooler under the bar in search of a Coors Light.

Hey Rita, how are you tonight? Ready for some action?

She snickered as she set the bottle down on a napkin before me. I don’t imagine it’d make any difference whether I was ready or not. Should I run a tab?

I gave her a wicked smile. What do you think?

Laughing, she pointed over at a couple of young men with close cropped hair at the other end of the bar. Given half a chance I imagine one of those young Marines fresh out of boot camp would be more than happy to take care of that for you.

Looking to where she was pointing, a shiver ran down my spine as I recalled the days that I had spent at the Marine Reception Station at Paris Island. Blinking, I gave my head a quick shake as if attempting to banish those sad memories. Not tonight, Rita. I’m doing the buying. Give ’em a round of whatever they’re having provided it’s not fifty-year-old scotch.

Rita laughed. I think you’ve nothin’ to worry about on that score. Most young bucks like that don’t go around ordering fifty-year-old scotch. Then, giving me a wink, she smiled. Of course, I can’t say the same about that fella of yours.

I couldn’t help but blush. I always did when someone referred to Matt in that manner. Doing my best to brush her comment aside, I feigned innocence. I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.

Knowing me by now, she rolled her eyes. Save it, girl. Your sweet innocent ‘Who me?’ routine might work on him, but I know better.

Taking my drink, I waved to Rita over my shoulder as I headed off to the table, knowing full well she was right. A blind man could see how Matt Wiseman behaved every time he was around me. Though I very much enjoyed the attention and longed to spend more time with him, I didn’t quite know how to deal with him. I was still rather clueless about many things when it came to being female, a fact that left me quite vulnerable to all sorts of social guffaws and more than my fair share of awkward moments.

At the table, Lynn Wong took her bag off the stool she had been saving for me. Climbing up, I greeted the core members of the R.E.M. team by raising my bottle in a toast. To another successful week under our belts.

To which Eric added, To my girl, Amanda.

After taking a drink from her bottle, Lynn looked over at Eric. Which Amanda were you toasting?

With a twinkle in his eye, he chuckled. To the eight legged one of course. This good ole boy knows better than to mess with Wiseman’s brown-eyed bundle of trouble.

I gave Eric a mock scowl. You know how I hate it when you guys call me that.

Lynn snickered. Yeah, right.

I do! You don’t see the looks I get from the other guys at the test site every time one of you call me that out there.

Dear child, you’d get those looks regardless of what we called you, Eric stated solemnly. I mean, get real. Not only are you living under the same roof as the man who owns the company for which we all work, the guy who’s in charge of our project all but trips over his own tongue every time he lays eyes on you.

Bowing my head, I pouted. No fair. Everyone’s picking on me tonight.

From across the table, Peter Kaplan, the poster child for Nerds ‘R’ Us, chirped up. I’m not.

Lynn laughed. That’s ’cause you know if you did she’d pull your arms out of their sockets and beat you over the head with them.

I would not, I protested.

Yeah, right, Lynn repeated.

I was about to respond to her snide remark when the DJ announced the live band was about to take the stage. Setting my beer down, I slid off my stool and grabbed Eric by the arm. Come on, cowboy. Let’s see if you’re as quick on your feet as you are with your tongue.

He didn’t need any coaxing. In addition to being an outstanding mechanical engineer, Eric was a great dancer, at least in this milieu. Not long after joining the R.E.M. team, he took it upon himself to teach me the finer points of country western dancing, something I had never imagined doing before but found, to my surprise, it was an activity I enjoyed immensely. And while Eric struck most people as being a laid-back cowboy whose favorite position was the slouch, on the dance floor he was something of a master.

The same could not be said for poor Peter. Lynn once told me, in private, that she was amazed that a man who was as talented on the computer keyboard as he was, could be so hopeless when it came to something as simple as dancing. Still, the two of them hung in there, doing their best to keep up with everyone else. Having an outstanding lead made it easy for me, despite having to dance backwards most of the time. Fortunately, I had been smart enough to buy cowboy boots with very conservative heels, making this aspect of being a girl much easier to deal with.

When the first dance was over, I thanked Eric before volunteering to head over to the bar to buy our next round. Though he protested, claiming his daddy would beat him silly if he knew he was letting a woman pay for his drinks, I fought off his protests. Get real, Tex! This is the Twenty-First Century.

That comment earned me the evil eye as he reminded me that he was from Oklahoma and not Texas, which I knew. Brushing aside his mock indignation, I made my way through the crowd and ordered a round for our group from Rita. As I was waiting, a couple of guys I didn’t know came up on either side of me. Though I did my best to ignore them, they insisted on striking up a one-sided conversation.

Hey good lookin’, how ‘bout ditchin’ those losers and joinin’ us?

I gave the one talking a long hard look. He was a good head taller than I was, sporting a few days growth of beard, the sort that some guys think makes them look sexy. Not wishing to get into it with him, I looked down at the bar, lest he see the disgust I felt for him in my eyes, before shaking my head. I guess he took my response as an effort on my part to play shy, for he slid closer to me, draping his arm over my shoulder as he did so.

Oh, don’t be that way darlin’.

When Rita saw the look that darkened my expression, she whisked away the bottles she had set before me and took a step back. After taking a deep breath, I straightened up and turned to face the one with his arm around me, throwing it off my shoulder with as much force as I could. Though surprised by this, the fool thought I was playing with him.

You’re a feisty one. I like that.

You do? I asked in a low voice. Well, do you like this?

Before he had a chance to answer, I brought my knee up into his groin, causing him to double over. With my blood up and operating in automatic mode, I brought the same knee up again, timing it just right so that I achieved maximum effect as it made contact with his face. Staggering, the obnoxious lout spun about before flopping over onto the floor in a ball. Quickly pivoting about on my heels, I looked at his partner.

Do you have something you’d like to say? I hissed in menacing tones.

The second man, bug eyed and visibly shaking, raised his hands as he slowly took to backpedaling. No, please. I didn’t do anything.

I know I should have left it at that, but I was angry, angry at them for having spoiled what up to then had been a great evening. Lunging forward, I stomped my right foot on the ground, a move that sent the other man reeling backwards as he fell over a bar stool and onto the floor. This brought a round of hoots, laughter, and applause from the crowd of spectators who had gathered about to watch.

When I finally took a moment to look around, I felt my anger melt away as it morphed into acute embarrassment. Turning back to the bar, I gathered up the beers Rita had placed there for me and fled.

~

Matt finally showed up around ten, which I suppose was a good thing since he missed witnessing the incident at the bar. That doesn’t mean he didn’t hear about it. Eric wasted no time regaling him with an enhanced version of events, giving him a blow-by-blow account of how I had lay low a pair of miscreants single-handedly. I’ll tell you, boss, you’d best be nice to this one. She’s a wild woman.

Having sorted myself out and calmed down by then, I was able to muster up a pout. There you go again, telling stories and picking on me. I’m a nice girl.

As she had before, Lynn Wong snorted. Yeah, right!

Before anyone else could say another word, the band started playing a slow number. Coming to my feet, I reached over and grabbed Matt by the arm. Come on, cowboy, I know you can dance to this.

Having no desire to resist, he gave the others a self-satisfied smile as he followed me out onto the dance floor and took me in his arms.

For the first minute or so, neither one of us said a thing as we fell into the rhythm of the music. Finally, he looked down at me as he cleared his throat. So, Miss Newly, this is pretty much it. One more week and you’ll be gone.

I didn’t answer him at first, looking away instead as I thought about that. When Tina had made mention of our pending trip to New York, it hadn’t fazed me. Hearing Matt remind me I would soon be leaving caused me to become choked up. It had been a wonderful summer, one filled with all sorts of adventures, new experiences, and opportunities. I’d managed to make a whole new covey of friends. Now, it was coming to an end. Of course, I knew they’d remain my friends no matter where I went. Still, the idea that I was going saddened me.

Go, however I must, I found myself thinking. There were things I needed to take care of in New York. After that, it would be back to college for my junior year. And though I had little doubt I would be working for Anderson, Inc. in one capacity or another the following summer, many long, cold months lay ahead far from here, far from Matt.

I guess my expression reflected the maudlin thoughts, for when the song ended, Matt’s manner was hesitant and guarded as he tried to sort out what had caused my mood to take such a precipitous plunge. On the way back to the table, he asked if there was something wrong. As was my habit, I fell back on my default response when I wasn’t ready or willing to reply as honestly as I should, I put up a brave front.

I’m fine, really.

I doubt he believed me but that didn’t matter. He let the subject drop as he always did.

Eric was in the process of passing out a fresh round of beers when we rejoined the others. Well, you two seemed to be enjoying yourself out there, he remarked.

From across the table, Lynn shot him a dirty look. I ignored them as I climbed back up on my stool and took a long sip of my beer. I was in the process of trying to think of a good retort when I noticed two men out of the corner of my eye approaching us. At first, I thought the pair I’d had the encounter with earlier were coming over for round two. To my relief, the newcomers turned out to be the Marines I had bought a round for.

The taller of the too, egged on by his buddy, bowed his head slightly as he launched into his little prepared speech. We’d like to thank you, ma’am, for the beer. We really appreciate it.

I gave them a warm and genuine smile. I’m sure you lads deserved it. I know how it can be.

Neither of the two Marines thought anything of my comment until Eric piped up. She most certainly does. She was a Marine herself for two years.

This comment caught both Marines off guard as they took a moment to look me over as if trying to assess if there could possibly be any truth to what they had just heard. This was quickly followed by a shared look of confusion as they took a moment to regard each other out of the corners of their eyes. Finally, the tall one, the designated spokesman for the pair, asked the question I always dreaded. Only two years? If you don’t mind my asking, how’d you manage that?

Once more, Eric supplied the answer for me before I could think of a good response. She did it the hard way, feet first.

I knew Eric wasn’t trying to be mean or embarrass me. He was simply doing his best to be witty. Unfortunately, his efforts on my behalf were inadvertently sending me into an uncontrolled psychological spiral, one that left me reeling and the poor Marines unsure of what to say or do. The best I could do was flash the pair a mirthless smile. Sensing things were becoming tense, the two took a moment to thank me again before beating a hasty retreat as I struggled to recoup. Fearing I was on the verge of making a fool of myself, I slid off my stool, reached behind me for my bag and called out over my shoulder that I needed to use the restroom. Lynn, suspecting I was about to plunge headlong into the Valley of Tears took off after me.

Once in the ladies’ room, she asked if I was okay. Knowing my standard ‘Yeah sure. Everything’s fine,’ response wasn’t going to wash with her, I looked down and shook my head. Sorry, I just sort of… I don’t know.

Eric can be such an idiot sometimes. I’m sure he didn’t mean to upset you. He’s just being Eric.

I know. It’s me. I guess I’m just tired.

Lynn knew better but played along. Yeah, I’m sure that’s it. We’ve all been working hard these past few weeks.

Looking up, I asked her if she would make my excuses to the others as I wasn’t up to facing Eric, who, no doubt, was getting lectured by Matt and Peter for being so, as Lynn put it, Eric. Nor was I much in the mood for Matt. If I went back to the table and told them that I was leaving, he’d insist on walking me out to my car where we would engage in some awkward chitchat as he gathered up the courage to give me a goodnight kiss. Ordinarily, I enjoyed this little game but somehow tonight I knew I’d disappoint him by being unable to return the warmth and feeling we had come to share at moments like that. Understanding without any further need to explain, Lynn gave me a hug and bade me farewell.

That night turned out to be one of those nights when sleep eluded me as the ghosts of my past reminded me that no matter how far or how fast I ran, they would always be there with me. Dealing with them was one of the greatest challenges I found myself having to deal with. Until I was able to reconcile my past with where I was, my life would always be something of a muddle.

~

With the following day being Saturday, I was free to take my time during my morning run, allowing me to go all the way down to the river and following it for a while. I loved doing so when the day was fresh and held so much promise. With nothing but the steady cadence of my feet pounding out the miles and the rhythm of my own breathing to distract me, I was free to let my thoughts roam, leading me to wherever they chose to go. On this day, they took up the thread set in motion by the melancholy funk into which I had spiraled the previous night. I had but seven days before I would, once more, take up my journey, when it would be time to pursue my dreams.

Unlike last night, when the thought of doing so had gotten the better of me and I had allowed myself to dwell on the grimmer aspects of my life, this morning, I turned my attention to what lay ahead. This afternoon belonged to Tina, a girl who was hell-bent on some serious shopping. Naturally, it would be fun and quite therapeutic for both of us, a welcome change from the rough and tumble male-dominated world I found myself in during the week out at the R.E.M. test site and the high-powered corporate dealings Mr. Anderson was determined to draw his daughter into. Just spending time together would be worth the hassles we were sure to encounter as we pitched headlong into swarms of fellow shoppers, all searching for the ever-elusive bargain.

Sunday would belong to Mr. Anderson, a day devoted to family activities. When I first started staying with the Andersons, I had always taken great care, from time to time, to make myself scarce in order to allow father and daughter to enjoy some quality time together. In those days, Mr. Anderson had been grateful for my understanding. Eventually, however, he made it known to me that my habit of disappearing was unnecessary.

Whether you like it or not, young lady, you are part of this family, he finally told me one day in a manner that left no room for argument.

As kind and sincere as his pronouncement had been, I don’t think he ever appreciated just how painful his words on that occasion had been. I cried myself to sleep that night for his words forced me to reflect upon the callous manner in which my own family had rejected me when I elected to leave college after my freshman year. On that day, I promised myself that I would never again shed a tear over my parent’s behavior, that I had a new family, one that embraced me as I was. It was, of course, a promise I was unable to keep. There are wounds time and the love of others simply cannot heal.

Memories of how my family had turned their backs on me because I had not measured up to their expectations also kept me from embracing Mr. Anderson in the same manner as he had done with me. I needed to remind myself while Tina knew all there was to know about me, to the best of my knowledge, Mr. Anderson was still clueless as to my unusual past. Whether he would still be as accepting of me if he ever found out about my inconvenient truths was something I had no intention of putting to the test.

Monday through Friday of the following week would see me back out at the test site following my mechanical namesake around as she dutifully dug trenches, burrowed holes, excavated simulated foundations for buildings and such, as we pushed Amanda and her programs to the limit to see how far she would go and what product improvements we, or I should say Anderson, Inc., would need to make before Amanda’s sisters went into full scale production. Friday, my last day, would surely end with some sort of surprise party to mark my departure, an occasion I had no doubt would end with me in tears.

The real journey would commence Saturday, a week from now, when Tina and I would be off for what her father was calling Amanda’s big adventure. I had never been to New York City before and was looking forward to it. My excitement was heightened by the fact we would be staying with Tina’s Uncle Edward and Victoria. Victoria was taking two weeks off from her practice, spending the first few days playing tour guide as she showed us the Big Apple with the balance of the week dedicated to overseeing my recovery from surgery.

Having reached the turn-around point of my run, I paused in order to catch my breath and stretch. Surgery. Now that it was less than two weeks away, the thought of going under the knife once more and what it would mean to me was finally beginning to sink in. While it was only simple cosmetic surgery, it was surgery nonetheless, surgery designed to make Amanda more real, more female.

In the beginning, the surgery had been limited to a rhinoplasty or nose job, a procedure necessary to correct deformities left over from a car accident the previous spring. When I’d first discussed this with Victoria, she assured me in private, the surgeon, who she had scheduled to perform the procedure, would use this opportunity to give me a nose that was, as she put it, more becoming for a girl my age. I had no problem at all with that part of the deal. It was the breast augmentation Victoria talked me into that I was having a difficult time dealing with. When she had first brought the idea up, I had thought nothing of going along with it. Now, however, I wasn’t too sure. After all, it would be my first serious step toward becoming a real female, one that was almost irreversible.

Taking a moment to reflect upon this thought, I could not help but laugh. After giving my head a quick shake, I began to retrace my steps along the jogging trail to the house. When I had settled into a good sustainable pace, I turned my attention back to where I had left off.

If I was going to be honest with myself, every step I’d taken in my long journey toward becoming a female had been a serious step, starting with the very first one, my decision to buy into a silly bet with other freshmen I was working with at O’Shanahan’s, an Irish pub in Madison. Victoria’s suggestion that we use the occasion of the rhinoplasty to tend to other matters was simply another step. Granted, it was a major one, but just one more. Even my decision to leave college and enlist in the Marine Corps had been a crucial part of that journey, for it had been in Iraq that I finally came to terms with who and what I was, that my future belonged to Amanda and not Andy. Unfortunately, that epiphany did not come at a good time or place for me, causing me to seek an easy out rather than a more sane, if complex, solution. Only when I had survived my best efforts to put an end to my suffering did I once more take up the journey to bring my most cherished dream to life.

The steady rhythm of my breathing, the pounding of my feet on the trail as they beat out a cadence, drove me on. Another mile to go. Another step to be taken. No more doubts. No more hesitation. Forward. From now on, I would always go forward. There was nothing behind me but ghosts. My future lay ahead as clear and as bright as this new day.

~

Anna greeted me in the kitchen with a bemused expression as I drew a glass of water for myself from the kitchen sink and took a long sip, a habit of mine that never failed to amaze her given the nature of the household to which I now belonged.

My Gregory is waiting in the exercise room, she informed me as I leaned back against the counter. Though I always thanked her for telling me when her husband wanted to see me like this, I doubt she caught the irony in my voice.

The car accident the previous spring, the one that had done a number on my poor nose, had been no accident. For reasons no one ever bothered to explain to me, someone had made an attempt to kidnap Tina, an effort that failed in part because of a case of mistaken identity. Instead of running Tina off the road and snatching her, the miscreants ran into me on a day when I happened to be driving Tina’s car. The accident occurred at the end of a