Phoenix Risen

   by Krystle Glass

   He first saw her while he was waiting at Dr.  G's for his appointment.
He was there for his weekly session, both nervous and bored at the same
time.  Nervous from anticipating his upcoming session, bored as most people
are when they are killing time with little more to entertain themselves
than year old obscure magazines.  He'd just put down a dog-eared copy of
"The New Yorker", one he'd looked at 20 times already, when he glanced up
and saw her leave the good Dr.'s room.  There was some quality about her
that caught his attention.  She was pretty, but not gorgeous, no raving
beauty.  Her figure was OK but nothing outstanding.  It was more some
indefinable air about her.  She seemed so fragile, innocent and possessed a
sadness about her bordering on the tragic.  He didn't realize he was
staring at her, but his gaze was riveted upon her as she walked out of the
waiting room.  She never noticed him.  And he found himself staring at the
door that had closed behind her.  How long he stared he wasn't sure,
snapping out of his funk as he heard the receptionist call his name.  He
flushed a bit when he realized it wasn't the first time he'd been called.
He had to wonder just how many times she'd had to call him.  He answered
her slightly amused grin with a sheepish smile, and entered the Dr.'s
office a bit hurriedly.

   He'd been coming to Dr.  G's for about a year now.  The Dr.  was helping
him deal with a good bit of stress and a touch of depression.  All during
college, post-grad school, hunting for a good job the stress had been
building.  Of course dealing with his father's high expectations didn't
help.  His father was an enormously successful businessman, hardworking,
driven and as rigid as they come.  He felt he could never satisfy his
father, never measure up.  When he finally received his Master's,
graduating cum laude, his father made it quite clear he'd been expecting
his son to have graduated magna cum laude.  It has surprised them both when
he'd turned down the position his father had offered him in the company. 
His father was surprised because, like so many aspects of his life, Good
Old Dad had assumed he'd follow in those giant footsteps.  Assumed without
question.  He'd surprised himself by finally standing up to his father and
refusing, surprised by the vehemence with which he abhorred the very idea
of working in his father's company.  He didn't realize until he'd said it
just how much he wanted, no needed, to find and make his own way.  The
fight that followed was of epic proportions, but still just one in a long
history between them.  Six months after he'd started his own business, as
an importer, everything seemed to finally collapse.  All the stress that
had built up over the previous 24 years of his life, and the pressures of
trying to make a go in the highly competitive world of import/export,
resulted in a short but severe breakdown.  That was when he met the good
Dr. It had taken a year of therapy, filled with ups and downs, insights,
revelations and setbacks to get his life stabilized.  Certainly he still
had issues to deal with, the still widening split with his family for one,
but he was handling it.

   As his appointment was drawing to an end, he surprised himself by asking
the Dr.  about the woman he'd seen leaving before his appointment.  "A very
sad case.  She's very emotionally fragile, but has amazed me at times with
her resilience.  But I really cannot discuss her case with you.  It would
be totally unethical." Dr.  G wouldn't even give out her name.  He
respected the Dr.'s professionalism, and he also liked and respected him as
a person.  So he let the matter drop and tried to forget her.  As he drove
home he couldn't seem to get the image of her out of his mind.  Such a
haunting type of beauty.

   He was no stranger to women.  He'd dated his share, many extremely
desirable, beautiful women had gotten his attention.  It was amazing what
tremendous family wealth would do.  It didn't hurt that he was also
handsome, tall, athletic and personable.  He was very good with people,
well educated and with a wide variety of interests.  Some of his romances
had lasted for months, most less than that.  He found a wide variety of
women attractive, and had no single feature or type of woman that he found
more enticing than another.  He'd been involved with women of every
imaginable height/weight/hair color/eye color/ethnic background imaginable.
Many were as intelligent and educated as he, some more so.  He'd dated
across social and economic backgrounds (now that had led to some fine
battles at home).  Some had even sought him in marriage.  But he'd never
really become serious with any of them.  Some had ended badly, some were
still close friends.  So he found it puzzling, and maybe even unnerving,
when days later he was still thinking about his mystery girl.

   Over the next few months he caught several glimpses of her at Dr.  G's,
but they never seemed to connect.  Sometimes he'd be out the door only to
turn back and see her go in.  Most times he'd be sitting waiting, just as
he had been the first time he saw her, as she left.  Each time he was
stricken by her face and the air of sadness she had.  Once her eyes had met
his and he couldn't breathe.  As their eyes met he was held speechless by
what he'd barely glimpsed in the depths of her dark eyes.  They were truly
amazing, perhaps her most striking feature.  A brown so deep, so dark, with
long lush lashes.  Something in her eyes whispered of unimaginable depths
of pain, compassion, love, fragility and yes the strength Dr.  G had spoken
of.  The contact lasted only the briefest of seconds, and she acknowledged
him with a slight tilt to her head.  Then she was gone.  He finally drew in
a shuddering breath and was still very shaken when he entered Dr.  G's
office for his session.  It was some time before he could regain his
composure enough to speak.  The doctor was fascinated with his reaction to
the woman.  He also seemed concerned and asked an interminable number of
seemingly unrelated questions, but would not divulge why.  He trusted Dr. G
and so answered each question as honestly as he could.  By the end of his
session Dr.  G looked, not troubled, but perhaps a bit concerned.

   He was still heavily tied up with his business.  It was now turning a
very nice profit and he found it tremendously rewarding.  He loved the
contact with so many different people, the travel to different countries,
the workings of making deals.  He was very good at what he did and the
chasm between him and his father had begun to close once more.  His
business success had finally registered on his father and gained him some
of the old man's respect.  It wasn't perfect but he would take what he
could get.  One thing his therapy had gained him was that his father
couldn't dominate or aggravate him anymore.  He'd moved beyond being his
father's son, and had become his own man.

   God, it was a great day!  He'd closed a major deal with a supplier in
Greece.  Mediterranean decor was becoming very hot (again!) and the demand
was unbelievable.  He'd also had very productive session with Dr.  G.  He
was in such a good mood he decided to skip going back to the office.  He
called his secretary and told her he would be out for the remainder of the
day.  The sun was shining, there was a slight breeze keeping it from
becoming too hot.  He decided to do something he hadn't done in years.  He
was going to spend the day in the park.  The Park was famous for it's
floral gardens, landscaping, variety of trees, the duck pond.  He used to
go there and people watch when he was still a student.  He stopped at a
food cart, bought himself a junk food lunch (another treat too long denied)
and enjoyed his stroll.  Coming over a rise he stopped dead, his mouth
hanging open.  He'd been just about to take another bite of his mustard
covered hotdog (which he wasn't even aware he dropped), when he saw her. 
His mystery girl!  She was sitting on a bench by the duck pond, feeding the
flock that had formed around her.  He stood and stared for several minutes,
just taking in the tableau before him.  She was dressed in a light spring
dress, espadrilles and a wide-brimmed hat with a yellow ribbon.  He hadn't
recognized her at first with the hat shading her face.  But when she
turned, eyes closed, to bask in the sun, he'd been thunderstruck.  The
breeze gently blew her long dark hair.  A small maple to her right had
dappled her in shadow.  One pure brilliant shaft of sunlight had found her
an illuminated her face as she soaked in it's warm caress.  He was startled
from his reverie by the sound of a kid skateboarding up behind him.  "Hey
man, you're blocking the way!" he jumped aside, the teen glaring at him in
absurd indignation.  Before he knew what he was doing he found himself
walking towards her.

   "Do you mind if I sit here?" He asked.  She turned towards him and his
heart froze once more, she was so breathtaking!

   "Not at all." she replied as she turned once more to feeding the ducks.

   He sat there for what seemed an eternity, his voice lost.  "I feel like
a schoolboy" he thought to himself.  Normally confident and easy in any
situation this woman had him totally flustered.  Swallowing the lump in his
throat, "I'm Peter.  Peter Hutchinson." He managed (barely) to squeak out.
Clearing his throat he held out his hand.  He half expected hers to be
cool, light and ethereal, but was once more surprised.  Her hand was very
slim, long fingered, but warm.  There was also a real sense of silken
strength in her hand.  Here was a real woman, not some ethereal creature
after all.  "A beautiful day." He said, struggling to find some way to not
sound so lame.  "

   She gazed about slowly, "Yes it is, very beautiful.  Rare for this early
in the season." Her voice was very soft, not lyrical or musical, not really
breathy, not husky.  It had, like the rest of her, a quality he found hard
to define, both fragile and strong at the same time.  "I've seen you at Dr.
G's office." she said.  She'd noticed him!  The very idea that this woman
who had so haunted his thoughts had noticed him, made his pulse race.  He
felt pleased beyond reason and felt his face split into a wide smile.

   "Why yes, I do see Dr.  G.  He's helped me sift through a lot of issues
in the past couple of years." he answered.

   "Dr.  G has been a blessing to me." she said.  "Without his help, I
don't think I'd still be here today." He was not so thick-headed that he
didn't guess her meaning.  The very concept of such an exceptional woman
thinking of suicide evaporated his smile and caused a slight frown.  "Oh
you really should smile more.  It makes you so much more handsome. 
Frowning makes you look so very serious.  Nice to have met you Peter
Hutchinson." Gathering her bag, she gracefully rose.  He found himself
standing, as she turned and walked away.  Before he realized it, she was
out of sight, and then it dawned on him.  He hadn't even learned her name!

   Over the next few weeks he tried to time his appointments with Dr.  G,
so that he might run into her again.  He would arrive at the building early
and try to spot her, or if he hadn't seen her by the time he left he would
linger a while.  But she was still so elusive, he barely caught more than a
glimpse of her.  He found himself frequenting the park, especially the duck
pond.  He took to feeding the ducks to pass the time and eventually had
names for several of the regulars.  Once he thought he spied her across the
bridge that transversed the duck pond, but it was rather foggy and he
couldn't be sure.  He tried to catch her, but she was as elusive as a
phantom.

   His business was still booming, and he was kept quite busy.  He was
traveling nearly every couple of weeks and seldom spent much time at his
apartment.  But overall he was content.  Things were going smoothly, his
visits to his parents had become less strained, nearly cordial.  He seemed
to need Dr.  G less and less.  His sessions become monthly rather than
weekly.  This was good and bad.  Good because it meant he had resolved most
of his baggage from his childhood.  Bad because it gave him less chance to
find the woman that had come to completely haunt what little free time he
had.

   It was raining, well actually more of a heavy drizzle.  He'd come to the
park still.  It had been months and he really didn't come thinking to find
her.  It had instead become more of a habit.  But one he enjoyed.  He found
it relaxing, sitting, feeding the ducks.  He'd talk to them (though it was
more like he was talking to himself).  "Well Harry, how are the young
one's? The missus must be proud." Harry and Matilda had mated and their
young had hatched just last week.  The little ducklings carefully watched
by both Harry and Matilda, as they waddled and scrambled for the bread
crumbs he brought.  "Fine weather for ducks, Harry my man.  Have you and
the little lady thought about where you'll be vacationing come winter? 
Florida?  Again?  Harry you need to be more creative.  Try someplace new."

   The giggle he heard behind him, made him flush in embarrassment.  He
turned to see who'd caught him rambling.  There, under a what had to be the
biggest pink umbrella he'd ever seen, was his dream woman.  He blushed an
even brighter shade of red.  "Now Harry," she said with a gleam, "you never
told me you knew Peter." With a sidelong glance she smiled at him and his
heart just melted.  "Don't be embarrassed, Peter.  I talk to the ducks all
the time.  They are very good listeners and never had any criticism to
offer.  By the way, my name is Sharon.  Sharon Phoenix." Despite the
coolness of the day and the drizzle, her hand was again surprisingly warm,
vibrant.  But although she was smiling he could still see the sadness
lurking within.  "Do you mind if I join you?" Did he mind?  Good lord, this
was what he'd dreamed of so often!

   "I must look like a drowned rat." he thought.  When she sat her umbrella
sheltered them both.  They sat side by side, without talking.  Just feeding
the ducks.  Was it his imagination, or were the ducks smiling at him as
well?.  He could feel the warmth she radiated, and could have sworn she
could hear his heart hammering away in his chest.  Just when he'd worked up
the courage to speak, the skies really opened up.  Lightning flashed and
the boom of thunder made them both jump.  It was truly pouring now and they
really couldn't stay where they were.  "Would you like to join me for some
coffee?" he asked.  She accepted on the condition that they walk, and that
he share her umbrella.  He wasn't about to disagree!

   Side by side they strolled out of the park, thunder rolling in the
distance.  By the time they exited the park, he found himself walking with
his arm around her waist.  He'd done it without thought, trying to stay
under the shelter of her umbrella.  She'd told him she loved walking in the
rain.  Not many people did and it gave her the feeling of having the whole
city to herself.  They found a nice caf**e9** where they could dry out and
just watch the rain.  It was a small intimate place, nearly empty.  As time
passed he found himself more at ease with her.  In fact before he realized
it, it had gotten dark.  He'd been talking to her for four hours!  He had
told her all about his business, his hopes and dreams for the future. 
"Look I didn't mean to talk your ear off.  You must be hungry.  I know I'm
starving.  Let me make it up to you by buying you dinner." He couldn't bear
to see this end.

   "No really thank you." She demurred.  "I have really enjoyed this.  It's
been nice.  But I'm not hungry and I should be going."

   "Let me at least get you a cab.  You'll be drenched if you go out in
this.  Plus it's gotten dark."

   "Thank you, Peter, but I don't mind the rain.  I find it soothing.  And
I have a ways to go before I'm home."

   He'd noticed she wore no ring, not even a telltale mark of one having
been there recently.  "Sharon, I want to see you again.  Will you have
dinner with me?  Can I call you?"

   "Peter, thank you.  I'm flattered, but I'm not really ready to 'date'.
It isn't you.  I like you, you're a very nice man.  You're kind and
sensitive but I really don't think it's a good idea."

   "Sharon, I understand.  I won't pressure you.  Can we be friends?"

   "I'd like that."

   He had a sense she didn't have many friends.  "Then can your new friend
call you sometime?  We could have coffee or whatever.  Dutch treat."

   With a smile to break his heart and a laugh that was musical, she gave
him her number.

   As he made his way to his apartment, he was so thrilled he didn't expect
to sleep all night.  Surprisingly he slept like a baby.  No one could see
the smile that lit his face in his sleep.

   The next morning dawned sunny and bright.  She was awakened by the
ringing of the phone.  "mm hullo?" she said still groggy.

   "Good morning, my friend!" It was Peter, sounding full of life and
excitement.  "How about joining me for breakfast?  I know a great place in
town that makes the best Belgium waffles and omelets you've ever tasted."

   "Peter?  Wha' time is it?"

   "It's 7:00 and this place fills up fast.  Especially on the weekends. 
I'll pick you up in 30 minutes."

   "No, no, that's too soon.  I'll meet you there.  What's the name of the
place and where is it?  OK, I know it.  I'll be there in an hour." Dragging
herself out of bed, she stumbled to the shower.  She almost never got up so
early on Saturdays.  She'd have to really move it if she were to get to the
restaurant in time.  The train ride into town would take at least 20
minutes, if she were lucky.  The day promised to be warm and sunny.  She
quickly showered, dried and brushed her hair into a simple ponytail, pulled
to one side and held with a flowered clip.  Her make-up was very natural
and subdued and done in just a few minutes.  She was very good at it and
had the time down to nearly nothing.  Hurriedly she went back to the
bedroom and dressed.  She chose a nice pair of khaki shorts, simple white
cotton blouse, sandals, small enameled pansy earrings, simple gold
herringbone necklace.  She checked her purse, grabbed a light pullover
sweater in case it was cooler than she thought and headed out.  She'd
gotten ready in just 30 min.  and hit the trains and transfers perfectly.
Almost exactly 60 minutes after she'd gotten off the phone, she walked into
the restaurant.  Taking off her sunglasses she spotted Peter as he stood
and waved from a table by the window.  In no time at all they picked up
where they had left off the day before.

   During breakfast neither of them noticed the food.  Later they would not
even be able to recall just what they'd ordered.  Neither of them had made
any plans, so they ended up spending the day walking the city.  They
strolled the park, walked the more avante garde area, browsing the shops
and vendor carts.  Peter found himself opening up to her as he had never
done with anyone else.  During the next few hours he had told her more
about himself and his feelings than he had during the first year of his
therapy with Dr.  G.  He even found himself sharing things he'd not told
the doctor., some things he'd never realized or admitted to himself.  He
found this remarkable woman so easy to talk to.  He could see the
compassion in her eyes, sensed she could truly understand his feelings. 
She seemed to empathically feel what he felt.  Even more astounding he felt
better about himself.  It was as if his sharing with her had opened up a
part of himself that had always been closed.  He felt healed.  In contrast
he learned very little about her.  He found out a lot of the typical
things; foods she liked, favorite colors, movies, books, activities, all
covering a very broad spectrum.  But he learned nothing about her past or
the tragedy he could sense within her.  Instinctively he knew not to press
her or pry, that their relationship was new and that those in those areas
she was very skittish and fragile.

   Dusk came and the air cooled.  They had wandered far from the restaurant
where they'd started.  "I really should be heading home." she said, "I've
got a busy night tomorrow and have a lot to get ready.  The train ride home
from here is going to take at least 45 minutes."

   "OK, I've got commitments tomorrow night too.  But no way you're taking
the train.  We'll catch a cab back to my car and I'll drive you home."

   Too relaxed and a bit weary to refuse, she acquiesced.  Peter was
surprised at where she lived.  He had for some reason pictured her in a
stylish apartment in one of the historic areas of the city.  He never
expected this quaint house in the suburbs.  It was very traditional,
complete with white picket fence.  As he pulled into the driveway, he noted
the well trimmed lawn, bright cheery flower beds, various shrubs.  It al
came together exceptionally well, each aspect complementing the others, and
giving it a really homey welcoming feel.  She invited him in for coffee,
and the interior showed the same sense of style and taste.  While she was
in the kitchen preparing the coffee, he roamed the living room.  Examining
the multitude of CD's and books, he was struck by the wide range of tastes
her music and reading material covered.  She had a fairly good video
collection as well and it too showed someone with varied interests.  The
music covered time from the 50's to the latest, instrumentals, old
fashioned rock n' roll, dance, ballads, folk, pop, classical, nature
sounds. The majority of her books were read for pleasure.  No biographies
or text books, no romance novels.  There were true crime, thrillers,
mysteries, horror, sci-fi, and fantasy.  The videos were a mixed bag of
comedies, nature films, adventure, action, etc.  While the decor was cozy,
relaxing and fairly traditional, her entertainment equipment (stereo, TV,
video equipment) were all top quality and state-of-the-art.  He asked to
use her bathroom, and on the way passed a den and what must have been her
bedroom.  The den was small, neat and well organized.  One corner was
dominated by what appeared to be a very sophisticated computer set-up.  He
didn't know much about such stuff, but he could see there was a lot of
equipment there.  Sharon was still puttering in the kitchen and he couldn't
resist peeking in the bedroom.  The bedroom was exactly what he would have
pictured her in, very feminine, but not frilly.  Simple but not plain. 
Stylish but not ostentatious.  This appeared to be the only room with any
pictures.  There were several drawings and paintings on the walls.  The
were very, very good, but for some reason unsettling.  He could see they
were drawn from the artist's imagination and unlike the rest of the house,
which was cheery and bright, these were somber, brooding and sad.  On the
night stand was a photograph.  It showed a family; father, mother, little
boy.  He didn't want to be a snoop, so he made his way back to the living
room.  Sharon was just setting down a tray with coffee and some pastry.

   He complimented her on her home, remarked at the terrific strudel, only
to find out she'd made the confection herself.  He learned she'd done all
the work around the house.  He enjoyed gardening, working the landscaping,
found cooking relaxing and seldom followed recipe's.  She preferred to
create her own dishes from scratch.  The more he learned about her, the
more remarkable Peter found her to be.  This was the kind of woman he could
be serious with.  All too soon it was time to leave.  She gave him a quick
hug and kiss on the cheek, thanked him for a wonderful day.  As he walked
to his car, Peter's chest was pounding, his blood rushing in his ears.  He
was smiling so wide as he drove home, his cheeks hurt.

   As Sharon picked up the coffee cups and dishes, she smiled to herself.
This was the most fun she'd had in such a long time.  She hadn't had such a
relaxing day on years.  She found Peter to be charming, sensitive and
considerate.  She could sense he really cared.  Suddenly a tremor shook
her, a chill swept through her and her smile vanished.  A single tear
rolled down her cheek as she finished cleaning up.  Shortly afterwards, the
house dark and still, she retreated to her bed.  She knew the night would
be long, empty and filled with dreams she'd rather avoid.  But they were
such a part of her life now they were in a way like old friends.

   The next night Peter attended a performance of "Cats".  He was
entertaining a new client and had brought them to dinner at one of the
finest restaurants in town.  Usually when he was having one of these social
evenings with a new client, especially if the client was accompanied by his
or her spouse, Peter escorted one of any number of women from his social
circle.  Tonight though he just couldn't think of anyone he wanted to be
with, none of them simply appealed to him.  The truth was that there was
only one woman he wanted to be with, and that was Sharon.  After the play,
he managed to gain access backstage, and brought his client and his wife to
meet some of the cast.  While the client's wife oohed and aahed over
meeting them, the client gave Peter a wide grin and let him know that Peter
had cinched the deal.  His client was a very well known plastic surgeon
from California.  He was building a new home and needed someone like Peter
who could get the artwork, furnishings, accessories etc.  to decorate it in
the style his wife wanted.  The doctor's wife was known for being
"difficult" but by making her happy, Peter had made not only a very
lucrative deal, but a friend for life.  "Peter, I owe you big time for
this. If there's ever anything I can do for you just ask."

   As he watched his clients, Peter idly looked around at the backstage
bustle of everyone cleaning up.  He thought he spied a familiar face and
when he went over to check...it was Sharon!  She must have come to see the
play too.  It was very popular and had enjoyed a packed house all
throughout it's run.  In fact he'd had to call in some favors to get
tonight's tickets, not to mention the backstage passes.  Now that he knew
Sharon was also a fan of the theater he knew where he'd ask her to go next.
"Hi!  Did you come to see the play" he asked.

   "No silly!  I work here." Then he noticed the table, brushes, tray,
pots, powders etc.  "I'm a make-up artist.  I work a lot of the plays and
shows.  Also some of the advertising agencies use my services." With a grin
and a flourish, "My card good sir." He looked down at the card she
presented.  It was a pleasant rose color, embossed in a deep metallic blue
"Crystal Illusions, artistry by Ms.  Sharon Phoenix".  They talked for a
few minutes, and then Sharon went to see the director for a consultation.
As she walked away, peter gazed at her raptly, unawares he was being
watched by several of the cast and crew.  He turned to re-join his clients
and was brought up short by a very slender man, part of the cast perhaps.

   "Oh honey, I can see you've got it bad."

   "What do you mean?"

   "Oh hell, anyone looking at you watching Sharon could tell.  But look,
you be real careful with her.  She's a real doll and you're not the only
one who loves that lady.  You do anything to hurt her and you'd better
leave town." With a flounce the young man walked off.  Peter was amused and
touched by the man's statement.  On one hand the man was maybe 5'6" to
Peter's 6'2" and all of 120 lbs.  To Peter's 195.  Peter could kill him
without any effort.  But the young man's sincere concern for Sharon, his
protectiveness of her made him like the man immediately and reinforced his
feeling that Sharon was someone special.

   Peter and Sharon, saw each other off and on for the next few weeks. 
They never had a "date", instead just going out "as friends" and enjoying
each others company.  During one of his increasingly infrequent sessions
with Dr.  G, the doctor commented on how much more at ease Peter seemed,
how much more at peace he was.  Peter attributed it to his and Sharon's
growing closeness.  "Peter, I want you to be very careful with Sharon. 
Both for your own protection and hers.  There is a lot going on with that
woman.  I can't go into details, but there are many things I doubt you
know." Peter admitted he didn't know much about her, but felt he had come
to know her essence, what made her the person she was.  For the first time,
Peter admitted to himself and said to the doctor, "Doc, I think I love her.
Maybe I'm crazy but I do."

   "Look Peter, you're a good man and I know you would never hurt anyone
intentionally.  I can see you really feel the way you say.  Just be
careful."

   A week later, Peter found himself attending a black tie event.  It was a
benefit for the Children's Hospital, a combination fund-raiser, awards
banquet and public relations hype.  Peter had been attending for several
years.  His father was on the board of directors, and it was one of the
families long standing charities.  The place was filled with "beautiful
people", celebrities, politicians, leaders in the medical and business
fields.  His outgoing nature and gift with people usually made these events
a real pleasure for him.  Typically he would be there with his current
beauty on his arm.  He had asked Sharon if she was busy for this night, but
she had a prior commitment.  His mother commented on how he hadn't been
seeing anyone for some time now.  He didn't want to tell her about Sharon
yet.  Things had become much better between him and his father of late, and
he was also feeling a touch protective towards her.  He didn't want her to
have to deal with his father's usual cross-examination.  His mother took
his lack of a date as an excuse to play matchmaker.  She kept him busy with
an endless stream of eligible women.  When it was time to adjourn to the
dining hall, his mother finagled things so he was seated next to one such
lady.  She was the daughter of one of his father's wealthiest competitors.
She was beautiful, charming, well educated, witty.  Peter found himself
having fun despite his mother's machinations.  But he also found himself
comparing this young woman to Sharon.  This woman was much more
sophisticated, had traveled all over the world.  In fact they shared many
common places they had visited.  Her honey blonde hair was perfectly coifed
in an elaborate upsweep.  Her jewelry was obviously expensive.  She wore an
impressive sapphire and diamond necklace, matching earrings, bracelet and
ring.  Her gown was the latest style, very fitted, with a deep v-neckline.
The sequins glittered with her every move.  The slit went high enough to
allow him an excellent view of her well shaped legs.  Her nails were long,
professionally manicured, her make-up a perfect blend of the exotic and
classy, nothing cheap or tawdry here.  In short she was like every other
woman he'd dated.  Sharon was well...  a real person, down-to-earth, but
still had an aspect that thrilled him and called to his primal desires
every bit as strongly as her fragility called to his desire to protect her.
During a break in the conversation, during one of the interminably boring
speeches, Peter glanced across the room.  There was Sharon!  He was
realizing there was much more to her than he'd guessed.  Now it seemed they
had one more thing in common.  He wondered if she were here with anyone. 
She was at a table with several other people, but it was obvious she was
alone.  Her hair glowed and was simply pulled back off her face and held by
a pair of pearled clips.  She wore a simple gown of deep blue silk.  No
plunging neckline or form fitted shape, but instead it seemed to flow
around her, a scarf draped across her throat and over her shoulders.  A
simple pair of pearl earrings were her only jewelry.  Her face was angelic.
So beautiful, her look so natural and the colors she'd used accented her
natural look and coloring perfectly.  She was a complete contrast to every
other woman in the room.

   He lost sight of her as the awards program began.  He intended to find
her later and dance with her.  He was distracted, daydreaming of her, while
carrying on conversation with the woman seated next to him, as well as his
parent's and the others dining at his table.  The Director of the hospital
stepped up to the podium., "And now ladies and gentlemen, I want to take
this opportunity to make a special award I want to give a very special
recognition to someone who has touched many hearts here in the past 3
years. She came to us on her own with an outline for a new program that has
made countless young lives happier.  She has given untold hours of her time
to this hospital and our young patients here.  She single-handedly built
the program that helps those children, who have suffered from deformity and
disfigurement, feel better about themselves and how they look.  She has
worked closely with our reconstructive specialists on ways to help with the
transition periods faced by those we can help.  I ask you now for your
applause and present to you Ms.  Sharon Phoenix!" Peter was stunned!  He
had no idea Sharon was tied to the hospital, that she had been
volunteering. She was so unassuming, it was just like her not mention the
things so many would have bragged about.  As the room applauded, and Peter
watched her gracefully make her way to receive her award, he beamed and his
applause were the most enthusiastic of all.

   "Sharon, " the director said, "We have received so many letters of
thanks and gratitude from the patients, and families, that you and the
program you instituted have helped.  I have received so many glowing
comments of praise from the doctors and staff, that it is my pleasure to
present you with this award.  It is in honor of your unselfish dedication
and will become an annual award, to be known as the Phoenix Award." With
that he presented her with a plaque and asked her to say a few words.

   "Thank you Dr.  Stanton.  I haven't done any more than any of the other
volunteers or dedicated staff here.  I will accept this award in honor of
them all." With that she gracefully returned to her seat, all the while
receiving applause.

   Peter was so distracted after that, that his mother asked him if
anything were wrong.  He excused himself, and made his way over to Sharon's
table, intent on congratulating her and asking her to dance.  He found her
table, but there was no sign of her.  He asked the others if they saw which
way she had gone, but they told him she had left for the night.

   A couple of days later they had made plans to an outdoor concert.  It
was another charity event.  His father was successful and wealthy enough to
be involved in the background of politics, and this was a fund-raiser for
his father's favorite candidate for governor.  His father had made a token
appearance early on, but had already left.  He preferred to work in the
background, wheeling and dealing, while expecting Peter to keep up the
public show as the token family representative.  All part of making the
political machine work for his benefit, according to dear old Dad.

   Peter picked Sharon up and asked her how her week had been.  She said
fine, but no mention of having won any award.  She asked about his night
out and he told her it was no big deal, just something his parents had
wanted him to go to, sort of a family tradition.  Then he was hit with an
inspiration - he would invite her to meet his parents.  There was a huge
barbecue planned next month.  Sharon knew about his past with his father,
but she also knew that the anger, frustration and resentment he'd fostered
for so long wasn't there any more.  His parent's would normally look down
their nose at someone of Sharon's economic background, but since she'd just
won an award that was named after her, they couldn't possibly.  The concert
was superb.  The music terrific, the weather phenomenal.  The sky was a
bright deep blue with dazzling white puffy clouds to give it character.  He
got to show Sharon off to all his friends.  A few recognized her from the
banquet, and when they congratulated her, she'd said it was "no big deal".
Everyone took to her and in no time it was if she'd been part of their
group for years.  His male friends congratulated him on such a find, a few
asked if they were an "item" or was she available.  Some of his old
girlfriends congratulated him on his taste, a couple said if they had to
lose him to someone at least it was someone with class.  They all knew his
reputation and told him this wasn't someone to take lightly.  The day
turned out even more perfect, when Peter's cousin Sid asked Sharon if Peter
was bringing her to the family barbecue!  Everyone jumped in and encouraged
her to go, so she had little choice but to accept.  Later as they walked
back to his car, Sharon took Peter's hand.  He had been very careful not to
push her, but her touched thrilled him.  As he opened her door for her, she
leaned forward and kissed him lightly.  "Thank you for a wonderful day."
she said.  They drove back in silence, each smiling.  He would gaze at her,
the wind blowing through her hair, the setting sun turning her face to
gold, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the drive through the country.  They
got back to town very late, having stopped at a little caf**e9** for a bite
to eat.  They went by Peter's apartment on the way as it was en route to
Sharon's house.  Peter wanted to check his messages and had left his beeper
and cell phone at home.  After a quick stop, they went to leave once more,
but his car wouldn't start.  It was a Sunday night and while he could have
his car towed, it wouldn't be fixed until tomorrow at the earliest.  By now
it was 10 PM and he could see Sharon was tired.  He was too after such a
full day.  He offered to get her a cab or if she wanted she could spend the
night and he'd get her home in the morning.

   Being the gentleman he was, Peter insisted she take his bed and he'd
sleep on the sofa.  He had a spare toothbrush and his college sweatshirt to
sleep in.  He let her clean up first.  When she finished he turned and saw
her standing in the doorway.  His sweatshirt was too big for her slender
frame, but he was surprised it wasn't any too long.  She was tall for a
woman, maybe 5'9" or 5'10".  She looked so sweet and so innocent standing
there.  Peter found it powerfully erotic.  She came and kissed his cheek to
say goodnight.  The scent of her freshly washed hair and skin was
intoxicating as he inhaled her fragrance.  He fought the urge to take her
in his arms and crush her lips to his.  He couldn't rise for fear of his
reaction to her being too evident.  She turned and closed his bedroom door.
After his pulse slowed finally, he stood somewhat painfully, and showered
himself.  The bathroom was still steamy from her shower and the air was
filled with her scent.  He felt electrified and though worn out, he doubted
he'd sleep well.

   Sharon stretched out and luxuriated in the feel of Peter's bed.  It had
been a long, pleasant day.  It had been so long since she'd had so much fun
with so many people.  She liked Peter's friends and his cousin Sid was a
riot.  Peter was wonderful too.  She enjoyed being with him more than she
cared to admit.  His scent lingered on the bedding and in his sweatshirt,
and she breathed deep, enjoying it so much she found it troubling.  She
worried at how close she had come to feel towards him.

   Sure enough, Peter tossed and turned, unable to rest.  He drifted in and
out of a troubled sleep, filled with the most erotic dreams.  He awoke to
strange sounds coming from his bedroom.  He went to the door and listened,
hearing whimpers and cries of anguish.  "Sharon?  Are you OK?" he
whispered. Not getting any response he eased open the door.  Sharon lay
twisted in the bedclothes.  Her face was beaded with sweat and she tossed
and thrashed about, held fast in the throes of a nightmare.  Her cries tore
at him and he went to her side.  The light from the open door illuminated
the tears that streamed down her face as she cried in her sleep.  He
couldn't bear to see her in such pain and he gathered her in his arms,
murmuring soothing words to try to quiet her sleep.  He held her as you
would hold a child, stroking her hair, kissing her cheek.  In time she
calmed within his embrace, and settled into a more natural restful sleep,
clutching him like a life preserver.  He tried to disengage himself from
her, but she clung to him and he feared awakening her.  So he spent the
remainder of the night, holding her.  Holding the woman he loved.

   Somewhere near dawn, Peter managed to make his way back to the sofa. 
The primal passion he'd felt earlier had long been replaced by a deeper
need.  The need to see this woman happy and safe.  He grabbed a few hours
of sleep, awakening to the smell of bacon cooking.  "Good morning
sleepyhead" she called as he stumbled into the kitchen.  "My you don't look
like you slept well at all." Then like a cloud passing before the sun her
expression changed.  "Did I keep you awake?" she asked, her face filled
with worry.  To spare her discomfort he told her it was just the sofa.  Her
eyes widened and she began to giggle when he came around the counter.  He
frowned and then it dawned on him, old Mr.  Lucky was giving her a morning
salute through his jogging pants.  With a furious blush, he excused himself
to relieve the pressure on his bladder.

   Sharon had made them a breakfast fit for royalty.  There were slices of
melon; bacon done to a turn, crisp but not burned; pan grilled English
muffins (just the way he liked them, he hated them toasted); strawberry
preserves; omelets with cheddar cheese, mushrooms, vidalia onions and sweet
red peppers; orange-pineapple juice; fresh brewed coffee with cream.  Peter
knew he didn't have most of this in his apartment.  Where did Sharon get
all this food?  When he asked, she told him that she had seen the sorry
state of his pantry and refrigerator.  Knowing that ketchup, week old bread
and beer (even if it was imported) would not suffice for breakfast, Sharon
had checked the phone book and found a market that delivered.  She had also
found the list of numbers by his phone and called his garage to come fix
his car.  They had already towed his away and left him a loaner to use
while it was being repaired.  Sharon may have some fragile qualities but
she certainly wasn't helpless.  Surprised and touched at her
thoughtfulness, and being unused to having anyone look after him, Peter was
overcome with joy.  Watching Sharon clean-up the dishes, he couldn't help
himself.  Without thinking he leaned forward, kissed her on the lips and
said, "I love you!"

   His smile vanished as he saw the color drain from her face.  Sharon
dropped the dish she was drying, and it shattered as it crashed to the
floor.  Her hands trembling, her face white she said in a small, tight
voice, "no ..  no you can't.  You don't even know me.  You can't love me!"
With a cry she turned and bolted out the door.  Stunned, Peter took a
moment to react.  By the time he got out of the apartment, he heard the
front door bang shut.  Hitting the street, he frantically looked around and
spotted Sharon racing down the next block.  "Goddamned, she's fast!  What
the hell have I done?" he wondered as he tried to catch up with her.  Peter
couldn't believe how fast Sharon was.  She ran like she was chased by
demons, which was not far from the truth.  He saw her finally stop running
in the middle of the bridge, her head was down and even at this distance he
could see her sobbing.  Peter pushed himself to further speed as he saw
Sharon's head come up.  She took a grip on the railing, leaned forward and
began to raise her leg.  It was a long drop to the river below.  She had
just gotten one leg over the top of the railing, when Peter caught her. 
Her eyes were wide and filled with fear, her face covered in tears.  With
an inarticulate cry she fought his grasp.  Peter found himself hard-pressed
to keep hold.  Her strength was surprising to say the least.  With a final
heave, Peter managed to get her free of the edge, and enfolded her in his
arms.  He was really shaken by her reactions.  Gingerly he led her back to
his apartment.  He found the key to the loaner car and drove her home. 
Sharon sat slumped against the door, her head down, her hands shaking. 
What broke his heart most was the lost, frightened look in her eyes.  When
they got to her home, Peter called Dr.  G and explained what happened.  He
was afraid to leave her alone, and the good doctor said he would be there
soon.

   Dr.  G arrived shortly and checked on Sharon.  When he came out of the
bedroom, he went to Peter.  "I've given her a sedative.  She should sleep
now for a while.  I'll wait here for a bit.  I don't think it's wise for
you to be here when she wakes up."

   "Maybe I shouldn't tell you what I'm about to, but the ethics here get
fuzzy.  You're both my patients and your welfare's seem to be inter-twined.
You must never reveal that you know anything I'm about to share, especially
to Sharon."

   "You have my word, Doc."

   "Well....  Some time back Sharon was married.  She had a son, a little
boy.  She was also leading a double life, something she kept from her
spouse and everyone else that knew her.  Just what that entailed you will
have to hear from her, IF she ever decides to volunteer it.  One night
while she was away from home, leading this double life, tragedy struck. 
Her family was killed in an accident.  She blamed herself, feeling that had
she only been home where she belonged it wouldn't have happened, that they
would have still been alive.  More than likely she would have been killed
also.  She felt enormous guilt over having been deceitful with her family.
She held herself together until after the funeral.  I met her after she had
tried to kill herself.  Since then I've been treating her for her
depression.  She has dealt with things within herself that would have
broken lesser people.  But she has never forgiven herself, refuses to do
what she needs to let herself be happy.  She feels she doesn't deserve to
be happy.  She doesn't feel she can allow herself to be loved, since she
had once before betrayed the love she had.  I have been hoping that in time
she could overcome this, find someone to love and accept their love in
return.  I thought after seeing how well you two had hit it off, you might
be the one.  I guess maybe she just isn't as strong as I hoped.  She isn't
ready yet to be more than friends."

   "Doc, whatever she needs, however she will have me in her life, however
long it takes, I want to be there for her.  I do love her."

   "Well tell her that when you see her again.  IF she will see you again.
I'll leave her a note to call you later.  Wait for her call, don't call
her. When she calls you'll know she's ready."

   Sharon did finally call, but not until 2 days later.  She apologized
profusely, but Peter told her that she had nothing to apologize for.  He
had acted on impulse, he said.  He felt he owed her an apology.  They
argued back and forth over who owed whom an apology, until the absurdity of
it got to both of them and they ended up laughing.  They tentatively
resumed their "friendship", slowly getting back to where they had been.

   By the time Peter's family barbecue came around, they both had shaken
off the effects of Peter's declaration of love.  He had explained he did
love her, but would never look for a response from her.  He would never
push for or ask for more than she offered.  He told Sharon that she was
important to him.  Enough so that he would let her set whatever pace there
was to be in their relationship.  Sharon told Peter that she felt strongly
for him too.  She wasn't ready to commit to a relationship as "lovers" and
that there were things about her, about her past she was not ready to
share. Peter's response was that he didn't care at all about he past, that
he knew the person she was inside and that was who he loved.  They resolved
to not put any label on what they had together, and to just let things
develop as they would.

   The barbecue was held at Peter's grandparent's home.  His grandparent's
had passed away some years before, and the house and grounds were held in
joint trust by all of Peter's relatives.  It was an enormous estate and
used by any of the family whenever they were in the area, as well as for
family get-togethers.  There was a couple who lived in the carriage house
and served as caretakers.  By the time Peter and Sharon arrived there were
close to 200 people already there.  They covered 4 generations of the
Hutchinson clan.  It took nearly an hour for Peter to take Sharon around
and introduce her to everyone.  When he introduced her to his parents, they
recognized her immediately from the awards dinner.  His father was cordial,
but a bit cool.  His mother was more easy-going, and although she wondered
about her son seeing someone from a lower social class, Sharon's smile and
self-deprecating demeanor soon won her over.  His mother took charge of
Sharon and they walked off arm in arm.  His mother was fascinated with
Sharon's work with the hospital and had a million questions about what
celebrities she had worked with.

   Peter was left standing with his father, smiling as he watched the two
most important women in his life become friends.

   "So tell me Peter, is this girl another frivolous fling?" His father was
always harping about Peter getting serious, settling down and "taking care
of business".

   "No Dad, she isn't.  She's very special.  I've never met anyone like
her. We've been seeing each other for months and we are taking things slow,
getting to know each other."

   "Well, what do you know about her?  Where's she from?  What's her
background?  What's her family history?  What do her parents do?  Where did
she go to college?  You know you have to be careful.  I don't really think
she's right for our social circle.  She seems very common.  She may just be
after the Hutchinson money, trying to get to it through you." His father
would have gone on, and in the past he would have reacted to his father
with angry shouts.

   "Dad, I don't know where she's from, what her background is, what her
net worth is and I don't care about your precious social circle.  I DO know
that she is the kindest, gentlest, most unselfish, unpretentious, modest,
down-to-earth person I have ever known.  If it wasn't for her and how she's
helped me, you would not be seeing me here today.  I had gotten to the
point where I began to hate you.  But she's helped me get past the fact
that you are such a stiff-necked, arrogant bastard and love you in spite of
yourself." His response, delivered in such a matter-of-fact tone, and
accompanied by Peter's boyish grin, left the elder Hutchinson speechless.
With a chuckle Peter left his father standing there with his mouth open,
and he set off to find his cousin Sid and see about starting a softball
game.

   When he recovered his composure, Peter's father went into the house.  He
had things to find out and he knew just who to call.

   The family had chosen teams for the softball games.  The kids had a game
going in one field, the adults and teens in another.  The older folks and
babies watched and cheered.  As it turned out Peter and Sharon ended up on
opposing teams.  She looked great.  She was wearing pink shorts, white
Reeboks, white and pink athletic ankle socks, a hand-painted white blouse
with a picture of teddy bears and butterflies across the back, and a pink
cotton baseball type cap.  Peter had worn a pair of hiking shorts and a
polo shirt, but by now it was hot enough most of the men had stripped down
to bare chests.  Sharon thought he looked so handsome and many of the
spectators drooled over his rugged good looks.  Sharon's team had first at
bats.  Whenever a woman got up to hit the men would all crowd in and tease
them mercilessly.  Sharon got the same treatment as the other ladies. 
Peter's cousin Sid called to the pitcher," Take it easy on her!  We don't
want to make it too hard for Petey's new girlfriend her first time here!"
So the pitcher lofted up a big fat easy pitch.  If they were expecting
Sharon to swing and whiff like some weakling and act the part of a flighty,
flirt, they were in for a surprise.  Sharon connected solidly with the ball
and used her whole lithe frame to drive it way past the outfielders (now
acting like second infielders) and all the way back to the edge of the
field.  By the time anyone recovered enough to go after it she was already
rounding second base.  As she crossed home plate, well ahead of the ball,
all the women were cheering.  Even the ones on the opposing team.  That
would teach the men to take the women for granted!

   Later, when her team was fielding, one of the teen cousins hit a wicked
line drive straight at Sharon, expecting her to duck or dodge aside. 
Instead the ball landed in her glove with a loud "slap!" and she pegged it
to first base, catching Sid in a double play.  She certainly didn't throw
like a girl!  The game broke up eventually, with no accurate score, and it
was time to eat.  Sharon and Peter found a spot under the shade of an old
maple tree.  It was cooler there and away from some of the noise.  It was
pleasant, as they sat, looking at each other and just enjoying each other's
company.  They were just finishing their plates when Ned Jr.  came over and
told Peter his father was looking for him.  Peter left Sharon under there
in the shade to find out what his old man wanted.  He didn't see his Uncle
Ted, who had been drinking a bit too much, approaching from the other
direction.

   "You did WHAT?!" yelled Peter.  He was outraged at his father, nearly
ready to revert back to the old hostilities.

   "You heard me.  I said I had her checked out.  I don't know just what
she is, but I do know she's a phony.  Until four years ago there was no
record of a Sharon Phoenix anywhere."

   "Dad, what do you think gives you the right to meddle in my affairs?  It
is no business of yours who I see or where they are from." Peter struggled
to remain in control, to not let his anger best him.

   "Look.  As head of this family, it is my obligation to protect it from
schemers, riffraff and golddigging bimbos.  Obviously you haven't matured
enough to take responsibility and protect the family's interest.  I DID
learned that she has spent time in a psychiatric hospital.  She some sort
of fruitcake son."

   Seething inside Peter worked to calm himself.  "She is no fruitcake. 
She's had a hard time in life and had been strong enough to seek help with
depression.  She sees Dr.  G just as have I.  There is nothing but good in
Sharon."

   "I can see there's no reasoning with you.  I want you to stop seeing
her. Drop her.  That's an order."

   His voice never colder or more stern Peter replied, "Dad, go to hell.  I
intend to marry her, IF she'll have me.  I love her and you better get used
to the idea."

   With that he turned and left the library.  His mother was on the other
side of the door.  It was obvious she'd heard their conversation.

   "Good for you Peter.  I love you father but he can be such an ass at
times.  Sharon's a wonderful girl.  Follow your heart."

   He hugged his mother close, touched by her support.  "Thanks Mom."

   Peter's Uncle Ted had a reputation as a drunk and a lecher.  Today was
no exception.  Once he'd had enough liquid courage, he looked for some
nubile young thing he could corner alone.  He'd used his bulk and greater
strength to pin them and depend on the family motto of "Don't make a fuss"
to keep them quiet.  There were few ladies in the family he hadn't tried to
score with.  Today Sharon was his intended victim.  Just a couple of things
he didn't count on.  One was Sharon wasn't about to cooperate or pass him
off as "harmless".  The second was fourteen year old Ned Jr.  had developed
quite a crush and his eyes hadn't been off of Sharon for a second all
afternoon.  When Ted tried to corner her, Sharon pushed him back.  When he
tried to grab her arms and pin her against the tree, she fought him with
more strength than he expected.  He found himself in a real struggle and
made the mistake of trying to cover her mouth to quiet her.  Sharon bit him
between the thumb and forefinger.  In pain he let go with his other hand,
his own yell drawing the attention he'd sought to avoid.  Everyone turned
in time to see Sharon's knee connect solidly between his thighs and her
right fist to nail him hard enough to make his head snap.  Peter had just
come out of the house when the commotion was in full swing.  His uncle
writhing on the ground yelling about "that bitch tramp", half the older
generation deriding her for "assaulting" him.  Many of the women were
silently applauding her for doing what they had wanted to for years.  It
was Ned who spoke up and said he'd seen everything.  When Peter heard what
his uncle had tried, he snarled, "Uncle, you are a pathetic piece of shit.
I'd beat you senseless if Sharon hadn't already kicked your ass.  I'd
better not see you again for a very long time." Ted's wife glared at him
through tears and said, "This is the last time Ted.  I've stood by and
turned a blind eye to your antics for too long.  Tomorrow I'm seeing our
attorney about a divorce."

   Just as Peter and Sharon turned to leave, there was Peter's father. 
"Well, Peter, I see she's shown her true colors.  Fighting and causing a
scene like so much poor white trash.  Now do you see I was right?"

   Peter was about to tell his father to fuck off, but Sharon stopped him.
"Mr.  Hutchinson, you may be able to cow and bully some people.  You may be
able to use your money and influence to buy your way through life.  You may
not even like me very much.  Personally I don't care.  I don't care about
your money, influence or power.  None of it impresses me.  What people do
impresses me.  All I've seen from you is someone who abuses what they have,
someone who makes themselves big by beating others down, someone insecure
with themselves.  You're a little man with little dreams, imprisoned by
your fears.  You don't live life because you're too busy trying to guard
and hoard your money.  I gave up caring about other people's opinions years
ago.  As much as you resent me though, I am not angry at you.  I pity you."
As Sharon and Peter finally left, his mother was there.  She hugged Sharon,
and the look she gave her husband promised a long, unpleasant night.

   As he dropped her off at home Sharon said, "I'm sorry things got so ugly
today."

   "It's not your fault.  Uncle Ted has been deserving more than what
happened for a long time.  And my father has been in need of a good telling
off for longer.  But I know my mother and everyone else loves you.  So what
are two bad apples out of so many?"

   She kissed him good-night, ever so gently on the lips.  With a stroke of
her hand across his cheek, she closed the door.  Her answering machine was
blinking furiously.  Peter's mother left a message saying not to worry
about his father.  He wouldn't be causing her anymore trouble and would she
please call her May in the future.  Sid called to see if she was available
to play softball next week.  He said his team needed a ringer.  But
seriously he hoped she wouldn't think ill of the rest of the family because
of Ted or Petey's dad.  Ted's wife called to thank her for decking Ted. 
She was holding off on seeing the lawyer for now.  Ted was more than
contrite when he sobered up.  Not to mention that he was hardly able to
stand or walk, and had ice packs on his eye and "other injury".  It seemed
all he'd needed was a kick in the ass.  She thanked Sharon again and asked
her if they could have lunch next week.  Ted called to apologize.  He knew
she probably would never want to see him again but he hoped that somehow he
could make amends.  Sharon though he even seemed to mean it.

   As Peter drove home, the day replayed itself in his mind.  He smiled
when he thought of how dumb they'd looked as Sharon drove the ball over
their faces.  He felt a cold anger at his father, but more than warm at his
mother's support.  She'd not taken sides much while he was younger.  He
chuckled at so many of his aunts and grand-aunts commenting on "that sweet
young thing" saying he'd better not let her slip away.  Even Sid, who
usually made a pass at Peter's dates, told him Sharon was a keeper and that
if he was too stupid to marry her, then he would be forced to court her
himself.  Court?  It wasn't like Sid to speak like that.  In fact Sid
usually made light of everything and was a confirmed bachelor.  Well, he
and Sharon were facing a busy next few weeks.  They wouldn't be able to see
each other for a while, which gave Peter time to do something that had been
nagging at him.

   The next day, Sharon was awakened by a knock.  It was still early and
she had no idea who it could be.  Peter always called first before he came
over.  When she opened the door, she was surprised to see his father
standing there.  "I'm sorry to disturb you, Sharon.  May I come in?"

   "Of course.  Please.  Can I get you some coffee?"

   "No thank you, I won't take up much of your time.  I came here to
apologize for my outrageous behavior.  There was no call for it.  You're
right, for too long I've let my money rule my life.  It, and my arrogance,
almost cost me my son.  I thought things had improved between us because he
was finally seeing things my way.  My wife disabused me of that notion. 
She made me see that it was you who gave him back to me.  For that alone I
owe more than I can ever repay.  I love my son.  I always have.  I guess I
don't show it enough.  And I am proud of him.  Proud of the man he has
become."

   Sharon laid a hand on his arm.  "Then go tell him.  It's never too late
to start over.  I know Peter loves and respects you.  You are both alike in
many ways.  You may be surprised at how much you have in common."

   "Well, you are the first person I couldn't intimidate or infuriate.  I
respect that.  You're quite a remarkable young woman.  It isn't every day
you find someone with your blend of compassion and strength.  Like silk
covered steel.  Thank you again."

   With that he took his leave.  Sharon, closed to door, humming and
smiling.  It promised to be a great day.

   Peter and Sharon were out celebrating.  Peter's business had hit 10
million dollars in sales.  The program Sharon had begun at the Children's
Hospital was being adopted at other hospitals all over the country.  She
had used her contacts as a make-up artist to pull together artists,
surgeons, chemists from all over the country.  They had developed a network
to provide cosmetic care and facial reconstruction for disfigured children
and adults nationwide.  Best yet it was funded totally by donations and
didn't cost hospitals or patients a dime.  She had also gotten a contract
to head up the make-up and special effects for a major motion picture.  It
meant going away on location overseas for 6 months, and a year in the
states.  Not to mention 6 months of heavy work planning the effects. 
Crystal Illusions had hit it big.

   After dinner they strolled through "their" park.  The stars were out and
it was so clear.  When they got to the bench where they had met, Peter
asked her to sit.  "I have something important to ask you.  I don't want to
pressure you.  Take as long as you need to answer.  I'll wait for as long
as it takes." He reached into his pocket and drew out a small velvet box.
He feared another severe reaction, as when he first proclaimed his love. 
But lately Sharon had seemed less fearful, less skittish about intimacy. 
Dropping to one knee, Peter opened the box.  Inside was a flawless 1 carat
diamond solitaire.  It was set in platinum and gleamed in the lamplight. 
'Sharon, I would be honored if you would consent to accepting my hand in
marriage.  Sharon, I love you will you marry me?"

   Sharon's heart beat furiously.  She'd sensed this day would come.  She
both dreaded it and looked forward to it.  "Either I can surrender to my
fear forever, or I can face it down." she thought.  "Peter, I love you too.
Before I can answer, there are things you have to know.  Please take me
home.  I have something you have to see before I can explain."

   When they got to her house Sharon had Peter sit while she went into the
bedroom.  She came out holding what appeared to be a picture.  "Peter,
before I met you I was married.  I had a son, a small boy.  I loved my
family with all my heart.  They were my entire life.  But I also had other
problems to deal with, things that caused me to begin leading a double
life. I would have never done anything to hurt my family, but I'm not
perfect.  In regards to this I was weak.  One night while I was away from
home, indulging my secret life, there was an accident.  A fire broke out
and my family was killed, our home destroyed, burned to the ground.  I
blamed myself.  If I had been there the fire never would have happened.  If
it had I could have gotten them out in time.  If I had been responsible
they would still be alive.  My son would be 7 years old now.  I managed to
stay together until the funeral was over.  No one could hear me screaming
in my mind.  Once they were laid to rest I tried to kill myself, because I
felt I didn't deserve to live.  After failing even that I met Dr.  G.  He
literally saved my life.  He helped me resolve some of the things that had
troubled me before the fire.  He helped me learn to live with the pain and
guilt."

   Peter already knew most of this.  He could sense there was something
more.  Handing him the picture, she told him, "This is a picture of me and
my family." It was the same photograph he'd seen in her bedroom.  The
little boy must be her son.  But he didn't understand.  The woman in the
picture didn't even faintly resemble Sharon.  She was too short for one. 
Her eyes were the wrong color, hers were brown and Sharon's were green. 
She didn't have the beauty mark Sharon had by her lip.  "Peter, the family
I lost was my wife and son.  I'm the person on the left." Peter looked
totally lost.  The person on the left was the man.  Was Sharon trying to
tell him she was a man?  No way.  "Peter, you said you'd give me time.  I
know this is a shock to you.  I will understand if you don't want to see me
again.  Go home now.  Call me in a few days if you want to talk and I'll
try to answer your questions if you have any.  If you don't call I will
understand."

   In a daze Peter left, his mind whirling.  He hadn't seen Dr.  G in a
couple of months.  Maybe he could help him sort this out, make some sense
of it all.  He couldn't see or hear the silent anguished sobs coming from
the other side of the door.

   It was a very confused and distraught Peter that saw Dr.  G the next
day. He looked as if he hadn't slept.  In fact he hadn't.  Peter hadn't
even gone home.  He'd walked all night, his mind a whirl of emotions and
questions.  Finally when the sun was fully up, he'd stopped at a pay phone
and called the doctor.

   "Doc, I don't get it.  Not at all." He'd related the evening's events to
Dr.  G, from their celebratory dinner to Peter's proposal and Sharon's
revelations.  Dr.  G's brow was furrowed in thought.

   "Peter, given the situation and the fact that Sharon has told you her
deepest secret, I feel I can fill you in a bit more.  You see, son, Sharon
is transgendered.  That means that she is of mixed gender.  Now understand,
we all have male and female components to our mental and physical make-up.
Typically, we lean predominantly more one way than the other.  In the
transgendered person, these traits are not so polarized.  Many have very
strong components of each.  Or their physical and mental genders are out of
sync.  Sharon is somewhere in there.  When she was married she struggled
for years with her inner turmoil.  She was born physically male, but her
mind and feelings had a very large female aspect.  This is what lead her to
leading a double life.  She was a transvestite, or so she came to label
herself.  She would take time to go off and dress and act like a woman.  I
don't mean she'd go out looking for men, but just take on the outward
appearance and mannerisms of a woman.  Then she'd go out and do very normal
things, take in a movie, have dinner, go shopping.  She didn't get to that
point overnight, but slowly over a period of years.  The entire time she
would be riddled with guilt."

   "But Doc, surely her wife must have known?"

   "No, Peter, and that's where the guilt came from.  You see most
transgendered people live with the constant fear of discovery, live with
the fear of rejection, of being labelled freaks and perverts."

   "Well Doc, it IS pretty strange.  I mean men are men and women are
women. Except for gays I guess."

   "Now you're confusing gender with sexuality.  They aren't the same at
all.  Gender has to do with emotions, feelings, attitudes, how you look at
things.  Sex is about the physical person.  Sexuality is about who we find
attractive and sexually stimulating.  A person can't do anything about
their gender.  They can change their sex.  They can either come to terms
with their sexuality or let it rule them.  There are more options than just
heterosexual and homosexual.  There is also bi-sexuality where the person
is attracted to both sexes.  There is asexuality, where the person really
has little or no sexual drives.  There is also, like gender, a lot of gray
areas."

   "So are you saying Sharon is gay?  Or has she had a sex-change?  Or is
she one of those she-males you hear about in those porn magazines?"

   "In Sharon's case I believe that she reacts to a person's essential
self, without regard for their physical sex.  So in effect she is not gay,
but falls into one of those gray areas.  She is neither she-male, nor has
she had sexual re-assignment surgery.  I believe Sharon was on the border
between the transvestite and the transsexual.  The trauma and guilt over
losing her family, her attempt at suicide, was the catalyst for her to
become a transsexual.  She felt her feminine alter-ego, and her everyday
male self were to blame for her family's death.  So she felt they too had
to die, resulting in her suicide attempt.  Her mind especially sought to
purge the existence of her male ego.  She was left with just the purest
essence of her female psyche."

   "But why didn't she then get the surgery you talked about?  Why not go
ahead and become what she portrays?"

   "That too is a result of the guilt.  She did allow herself electrolysis,
to remove the male aspects of her body and facial hair.  She had some very
minor cosmetic surgeries to give her a more feminine facial appearance. 
But for her to let herself become totally female, would mean she'd have to
forgive herself, let herself heal.  That she couldn't do because she feels
she should be punished."

   "Oh, that's so sad.  She isn't to blame for anything.  I can't imagine
having to live with that kind of pain everyday.  Doc.  I don't know what to
do, how to handle this.  I love her, but as a woman.  It's how I know her.
If she hasn't done anything to become female, then why is it she looks so
much like one?  Besides, I'm not gay.  I have no desire to be with a man.
But I don't know her as one.  I'm so damned confused!"

   "Peter, remember she's a make-up artist.  She deals with creating
illusions every day.  She's one of the best in her field and has pulled off
some amazing transformations.  I can't tell you what to do.  I can suggest
you look inside yourself.  Decide if you love Sharon as a person, for who
she is, as opposed to what she looks like.  Look into your heart and let it
lead you."

   Peter left, finally to go home.  he was physically and emotionally
drained.  He needed time to think and sort things out.

   Two days later, Peter got a call from Dr.  G.  Sharon had been hit by a
car and was in intensive care.  She might not make it he said.  Since she
had no family Dr.  G had arranged for Peter to be able to visit her.  If he
wanted to.  Without a moment's thought Peter sped to the hospital.  He was
assured that Sharon was getting the very best of care.  She was well loved
by the staff and everyone was praying she would pull through.  When he saw
Dr.  G, he was handed a letter addressed to him.  Sharon was crossing the
street to mail it when she was struck.  The driver's brakes had failed for
no apparent reason.  He had been cleared of any negligence.  It was simply
a tragic accident.  Peter opened the letter and began to read:

   "Dear Peter, I am sorry for hurting you.  I should never have let you or
anyone become involved with me.  It wasn't right to tangle up someone else
in my messed up world.  I'm sorry for having deceived you.  I hope someday
you can forgive my selfishness.  I am leaving town.  I have contacted a
Realtor to sell my house.  I won't mess up your life any further.  You will
never have to see me again.  I have ruined someone's life for the last
time.

   Good-bye and love Sharon"

   Shaking, tears freely running down his face, Peter went into the ICU. 
Taking Sharon's hand in his, he began to speak, softly.  If anyone were to
get close they would have heard, "Sharon, don't leave me.  I love you and I
need you.  Please come back to me."

   Peter turned as he felt a hand on his shoulder.  He turned to see his
father standing there.  His mother was off to one side.  "Peter, we're so
sorry.  We came as soon as we heard." With that Peter's father embraced
him. Then his mother entered the circle and they kept vigil together.

   Over the next 3 days they took shifts staying with Sharon.  Peter was
touched.  His father never left the hospital.  In all his life he'd never
seen his father stay away from his office for so long, and never for
anything that wasn't planned in advance.  He sensed a fundamental change in
him, and that he really cared.  Peter's relative and friends all came by,
people from the theaters, the hospitals, some of the families that Sharon
had helped all sent cards and flowers.  There were so many that Peter's
mother arranged to have them brought around to patients who had none.  She
felt it was something Sharon would have wanted done.

   One night, Peter was sprawled in the chair by her bed, half asleep.  Her
face was framed by a shaft of moonlight coming from the window.  She'd been
brought out of ICU but hadn't recovered consciousness.  His heart ached to
see her, lying helpless, her face swollen and bruised, the wires and tubes
and bandages seemed abominable on someone as special as her.  He lowered
his head and began to weep, his shoulders shaking.  Then someone was
holding his hand, "there, there, don't cry.  It will be all right." He
looked up and saw Sharon gazing back at him.

   "I thought I lost you.  I can't lose you.  Not now, not ever."

   "Peter, I ..."

   "Hush.  Please let me say this.  Sharon, I love you.  When I thought
about losing you, I couldn't bear it.  No matter what else, I want to spend
the rest of my life with you.  I'll marry you, no matter how that has to be
worked out, if you'll have me.  I talked with my lawyer.  Even if the state
wouldn't recognize our union, I can still provide for you just as if it
did. I want you as my wife, no matter what anyone says.  No matter what
else you decide or how you want to continue, please say we'll be together."


   "I love you too, Peter.  Are you sure of what you're saying?"

   "I've never been more certain of anything."

   "Then I guess I have to say ....  Yes."

   "Look you rest now.  I have to tell Mom and Dad the good news.  They
been here the whole time waiting with me."

   "How long?"

   "You've been gone from us for four days."

   "Peter, please, get Dr.  G.  I have something I need to discuss with
him."

   The next day it was a jubilant Peter that went to the hospital.  Hi
mother and father were with him.  The entire hospital seemed brighter and
cheerier.  The good news of Sharon's recovery must have spread overnight.
When they got to ICU, they were met by Dr.  G.  "Sharon's not here.  She's
transferred to a private hospital."

   "Not here?  Where is she?"

   "We had a long discussion last night.  Sharon needs some rehabilitation
for her injuries.  She also needs some time.  There are things she needs to
do, and I agreed with her.  Oh, Peter, before I forget, you left the ring
in my office the other night."

   "Where is it Doc?"

   "The last time I saw it, it was on Sharon's left ring finger." The Doc
had a grin that would have done a Cheshire cat proud.  "Mrs.  Hutchinson,
since Sharon has no living relatives, she said you're the closest thing she
has to a mother.  She asked if you'd help plan her wedding.  Seems she
accepted Peter's proposal.  She said she would be taking care of the gown,
but is leaving the rest up to you and Peter.  She drew up a list of her
friends she'd like to invite.  She said you have six months to get things
ready.  Then she'll be back."

   Mrs.  Hutchinson had always wanted a daughter.  It looked like she was
going to get one.  She couldn't wait to get started.  Try as they might
peter and his father couldn't find out anything from anyone as to where
Sharon was or what she was up to.  It promised to be a long six months for
Peter.

   Sharon gazed at her reflection in the long mirror.  She'd recovered from
her injuries.  With the help of the staff here, and Dr.  G, she also
finished the emotional recovery she'd needed for so long.  She marveled as
she slowly ran her hands over her figure.  Her breasts, no longer silicone
and paint, rose perkily.  Full rounded with rosy nipples, she couldn't
believe they were really hers.  They weighed more than she was used to, but
she'd adjusted fairly well.  Thanks to the hormones and the skilled
surgeons Dr.  G had put her in touch with, her waist narrowed a bit more
than when she'd had to corset herself.  Gone was the padded girdle.  Now
her own hips flared nicely, blending from her waist to buttocks in a way no
artificial hips ever could.  Her taut stomach ran down to the tiny patch of
pubic hair she had left, to her new sex.  The doctors had all done a
remarkable job.  From the surgeon for her sexual re-assignment surgery, to
the plastic surgeons who performed her other alterations, to the
endocrinologist, all the nurses, she owed so much to everyone.  Foremost
was Dr.  G.  because of the years he'd spend as her psychiatrist, and the
time she'd been living as a woman, Sharon only had to go through the
hormones and surgery to complete what had begun so long ago.

   "Oh dear, you make such a beautiful bride!  I'm sorry I'm weepy, but
this is the happiest day ever!" May Hutchinson had in truth become Sharon's
surrogate mother.  During this last week of wedding preparation they had
become as close as if they were blood.  Peter's father had also been
walking around happy as a clam.  People had been asking him if he'd had a
face-lift.  But it was simply that they were so unused to seeing him smile.
He was more relaxed these days, and he and Peter had spent time together
catching up on so much they'd missed together.

   Sharon's dress was understated elegance.  White satin with touches of
lace and pearls, just a few rhinestones.  It was high necked, long-sleeved,
flaring a the top but fitted from the elbows down.  It had a long train and
her veil was a confection of lace and pearls.  Her bouquet was white roses.
Underneath was the naughtiest, sexiest white satin and lace lingerie she
could find.  Peter had been waiting for six long months for his bride.  She
knew it hard been hard on him.  He'd been calling several times a day since
she'd left the clinic, but she'd made him wait until today to see her.  She
intended to see him VERY well rewarded.

   Her maid of honor was the young man that Peter had been confronted by at
the play "Cats".  Sharon had a lot of friends in the theater, so the
reception was an unusual blend.  Her theatrical and unusual friends, many
people from the hospitals she worked with, the elite and powerful
bluebloods who knew the Hutchinson's, Peter's relatives, all intermingling.
Sid was Peter's best man.  He kept reminding Peter that he got to kiss the
bride, and that he intended to thoroughly enjoy it.

   The church was filled to capacity.  The organist began the wedding
march. Dr.  G escorted Sharon down the aisle, as her surrogate father.  She
said he'd been there all through her painful re-birth.  He felt truly
honored to be able to perform this service for her.  Peter looked thrilled
and terrified, so handsome in his tuxedo.  He was fidgeting like a little
boy, and Sharon had to fight back a giggle.  Soon they all heard those long
awaited words..  "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and
wife!"

   As their lips met in their first passionate kiss, as they began their
new life together as husband and wife, the sun shone through the stained
glass, spotlighting them.  From the tragedy of fire so long ago, Sharon had
been re-born.  She'd lived up to her name and become like the Phoenix -
risen from the ashes to blaze forth in glory!

   Finis?

   
