2. Going Home #3
Clem glared at her name, etched in weathered stone, announcing her death on her birthday. She danced until she ran out of breath, collapsing on her mother’s grave to speak to her father.
“I will never understand why you did it, but I forgive you. You tried your best, even if you left me wanting.” She rose to stand between the two graves.
“Goodbye, Mother. Goodbye, Dad. I loved you, and it no longer matters if you loved me.” She walked away, shoes in hand, and barefoot.
Standing on the Burdocks doorstep to say goodbye that night, she hugged An.
“I left a trunk in my old bedroom filled with all the female trappings I have no use for, clothing, shoes, stockings, hair ribbons, hats, gloves, a few pieces of jewelry, all of it.” She winked.
“A clever person could let a seam out here, nip and tuck a few things, and create a whole new look … if she had a mind to, that is.”
An squealed, beautiful dark eyes growing round.
“I could try everything on all at once, not buy a piece here, and another one there so no one gets suspicious.” He blushed.
“I already have a pair of bloomers Jimmy gave me for Christmas.” He squealed again.
“Oh, thank you, Clem! I can’t wait to try things on. ” He hugged her tight.
“Bloomers?” Clem asked, grinning over An’s shoulder at her attorney.
“A delightful piece of clothing, on the right person,” Jim agreed with a leer.
Clem kissed An’s cheek. “Thank you for everything.”
“Me? I haven’t done anything.”
“Are you joking? I’ve been here several nights a week, complaining, whining, nursing grudges. You took me in without question, accepted me as I am, and helped me through a difficult time. I will miss you both.” She let him go and held out a hand to Jim.
“Thank you for making all the arrangements I should have been here to make. I appreciate your help with sorting through father’s business and financial dealings, and liquidating the property.”
“The property,” echoed An, a sad note in his voice. “You don’t even call it home anymore.”
“It’s not my home now.” Clem sighed. “Maybe it never was.”
“As time passes, you’ll remember more of the good.
” Jim shook her hand. “I’ll write to you once a month, care of General Post in Sacramento, where your bank is.
I’ll mail your proceeds from the Journal, and hope you’ll write back and let us know how our dear friend is doing out in the wild west.” He pulled her in for a hug.
“You’re more to me than a client, Clem.”
“You’re family,” agreed An from over his shoulder, wrapping them both in his arms. “You must stay with us whenever you visit Boston.”
In her private compartment on her way to Missouri, Clem refused to cry as she struggled with her emotions.
The heart her father broke upon her arrival had healed during her time with the Burdocks, who were more than friends.
Barney, and now An and Jim, filled a hole in her life, becoming the family she’d never had.
As the train hurtled west on its iron rails, dizzying thoughts spun in her head until jotting it all down in her private journal helped sort them out to make sense.
Genuine family are the people who encourage you to be happy, listen without speaking, nurse you if you need it, and buck you up whenever necessary. You belong to them, as they belong to you. Responsibility, yes, but with all the rights that are inherent in a family.
She’d been happy and prosperous in California, but dropped everything and hurried home to Boston because the father who wouldn’t accept her needed her.
What he needed was to humiliate her. Tom Dennison wanted to punish his daughter one last time for daring to be someone he didn’t approve of. He ‘won’ their lifelong battle by ignoring her wishes, wants, and dreams even from beyond the grave.
What a terrible, screwed-up, complex relationship they’d had.
Jim and An knew her father better than anyone alive, they’d witnessed his weaknesses and flaws. Encouraged to express her years of pent-up emotions, they helped her navigate through her confusion and wounded pride, back to the person she chose to be.
How did she luck into finding the only two souls capable of understanding it all?
Through her dad.
Wait. That meant he knew she’d need Jim and An. That meant he knew his actions would be devastating - and left her in healing hands.
“God damn it, Dad, did you love me, or not?”
After a long, boring five-day journey, with only one more day before she reached Independence, Missouri, Clem finished washing up while the water was still warm.
Standing in front of the last full-length mirror she’d see for another handful of years, she stood naked and took stock of her appearance.
Never comfortable with her image, she forced herself to look with honesty, bracing for the same old disappointment.
Clem re-wrapped her breasts in a wide strip of linen, mashing them as flat as possible while still being able to breathe.
She then pulled on the double layer of underwear she’d sewn a handmade johnson between, and nestled the leather sausage at a discreet angle down between her legs.
Over those she pulled a third pair of underwear, then her pants, shirt, vest, and coat.
As the finishing touch, she wound her pocket watch with care and left its gold chain dangling.
She twisted sideways, examining her silhouette, then over her shoulder at her backside, more pleased than she’d ever been with her reflection. Even with her breasts bound flat, she breathed easier in these clothes, stood taller, felt more in control than she ever had in a skirt.
Taking a deep breath, she let it out in a rush.
Clementine Lorelei Dennison was dead. She let go of the insecure, inadequate, and disappointing young woman she once was, and took back her confidence, once again assuming the swagger of manhood she’d learned to emulate.
Clem couldn’t wait to return to the life she’d created for herself, where she was respected for her skills, had friends, and a brother she’d found when she needed one most. She didn’t look back.