Plain Jane the Chameleon

*****

The Greyhound bus dropped me at the station in Hoboken, and I jogged home from there. That night I sat anxiously by the phone. I was waiting and watching the clock. I had the time difference down. I knew exactly when my uncle Edward would be awake, and I dialed his number as soon as I could. Our conversation lasted four minutes.

Sharing the details of where I wanted to be in life was hard. It upset my mother, but it made my father proud. To my mother, she thought she was losing her son. For my father, he saw it as a leap into manhood.

Like he had so many times in my life, my father quietly worked his magic. He, along with a friend who worked on the docks, put all of my belongings in a half-filled sea container and sent it away, free of charge, saying it wasn't often people headed the other way across the ocean. The container wasn't scheduled to arrive in the UK for weeks, but I wasn't in a hurry.

I stayed awake the last forty- eight hours I was in Jersey. I spent my time with my family and friends, saying my goodbyes. And at 8:15pm, January 19^th, 1988, I was in the air. After the cost of my plane ticket, I had $14,391 in my pocket. I was on an overnight flight. I was headed home.

As the Boeing raced down the runway, I felt a strange feeling. It was the first time in many months that I relaxed.

*****

It had only been a couple of years, but it was like time stood still. Almost everything seemed to be frozen as it was when I left. My aunt and cousins once again greeted me at the station. The only apparent change was in the girls. They had grown. Much taller, with longer hair.

Piling my bags in the 'boot' as my aunt referred to the trunk, I got in the front so we could talk.

My aunt seemed excited about having help on the farm and said her and Edward would be taking a very much needed trip as soon as I got refresher training.

Nothing had changed on the farm either. There wasn't much happening in the fields during the winter months, But the huge piles of building materials let me know the new barn Edward had dreamed about was got to start being built soon.

With the fireplace heating the room, dinner was better than any I could remember from before. Partially because the girls were almost three years older and could now hold a good conversation.

With no need to unpack quickly, I told my aunt I was going to take a walk.

"Here," she said. Handing me the keys to the old Mini. "The girls washed and cleaned it for you. Edward filled it with petrol. I think it remembers which way to take you."

"Thank you so much. I...I could never repay you for the kindness, you've..."

"We love you, you little turd. Now go. Go to her. Show her what a man you've grown to be.

*****

The old tin can was still there. It was acting as a marker. In my heart, I hoped it was for me.

The grass by the stone was no longer flattened by the constant wear of Mini's tires. Parking in the same spot I had parked many times, I carefully scaled the wall. Watching to not break the bottle of wine I had carried all the way from a farm I had worked on in Napa Valley during one of my co-ops.

Frost and a light covering of snow made the rows between the old pear tree seem as though they were lit by the stars and crescent moon above. And the familiar smell of billowing smoke lifted into the cold sky as it escaped the pile of burning logs below.

Nervously looking at my watch, I knew it was early, but I hoped seven-thirty wasn't too late to show up at her door.

My first knock was so light, only a dog heard it. I knew as much by the sound of its nose sniffing at the door. I knocked with the old brass knocker the second time. It was much louder. The dog inside barked at the intrusion this time. A dog in the house? I found it strange. Jane had let dogs in, but never this late in the evening.

Then I heard it. The sound of Jane's voice calling out.

A rush of anxiety raced through me, and a cold chill went up and down my spine. In this case, her not so sweet words filling the night air brought back every memory I had of her.

"We're in the tub mum. Stop bangin the damn door and come in. You're making the feckin dog have a fit."

Cautiously, I opened the door and stepped in. Lots was the same, but lots had changed. I recognized the mutt wagging its tail and sniffing my pant legs. He was one of Jane's favorites.

Not wanting to go any further, I waited. Waited until Jane spoke again.

"Mum, can you hand us our towels then. I forgot them on the bed."

The towels were where Jane said they would be. Folded neatly at the end of her bed. Two of them.

Pushing the door to the bathroom open, I entered to find Jane bent at the waist. Her fine bum pointed directly at me. She was naked and working on something in front of her. It was the same view I had as when I saw her naked for the very first time. I touched her shoulder with the soft towel to let her know they were ready for her when needed.

Jane turned just enough to grab them and when she did, she let out a scream.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph. You scared the living shit out of me, Michael."

There were a few seconds before I knew how she took my unexpected arrival, but her smile told me it wasn't all bad. I tried not to stare at her naked body but doing so was a tough task.

Securing the towel around her body like a wrap, tucked under her armpits, Jane once again leaned forward. Wrapping her package in the other towel, she lifted the precious cargo, and handed it to me.

"Michael, say hello to your son. Mikey, say hello to your daddy. I told you he'd be home soon."

As I held him in my arms, the child stared at me without speaking, He had lots of dark hair and blue eyes. In his hand was a water toy from the tub. I tugged him to me, unsure if he might fall if I didn't cling to him for dear life. He continued to check me out, and not once did he fuss.

"Jane...oh my God. He's so...beautiful. He looks so much like..."

"You Michael. He looks just like his father."

"How old is he?"

"Two on March 12^th. His name is Michael Allen Clarke. Allen was my father's name."

"Can we call him Mac?"

"No. We'll call him Mikey or Junior. He'll be called after his father."

"I love it, but Mac sounds pretty cool. Did my aunt and uncle know about Mikey?"

"They did, and they promised not to say a word."

When I really looked at Jane for the first time, I notice my gift from two Christmas's ago. In her cleavage was the diamond and ruby heart pendant necklace. The one I had sent her, was hanging off her neck. Perched perfectly between the cleft of her beautiful breasts. My admiring pause was so long it caused Jane concern. She looked in every direction, then asked, 'what?'.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Michael, it's been over two years. I would love nothing more than for you to kiss me."

When my hand touched her towel covered back, I could feel her body trembling. Soon after I felt and tasted one of her salty tears as it ran over my cheek and landed on my lip.

"Jane, please don't."

"I've missed you so, Michael," she said, laughing and crying at the same time.

"But you never wrote me?"

"I couldn't bring myself to do it. In my heart, I knew you'd return. But my head played tricks and teased me that you wouldn't. I thought it was better being lonely, than have you feeling any pressure to return."

"It was never a question of 'if' Jane. It was a matter of 'when'."

"I know as much now, don't I?" She took our son from my arms and smiled. With a sweet and quick kiss on my cheek she pointed at the tub. "The waters still warm if you'd like. There could be a bit of wee in it, but it should be grand."

A long soak in the tub was enough to remove the tension from my flight and the nerves about now Jane would receive me. And at some point, I must have nodded off.

*****

"Baby. Come on now. You'll drown in here."

A soft hand shook me awake.

"Where's my son?"

"Our son is in bed. He keeps farmer's hours. Early to bed, early to rise."

"I'm sorry. How long was I..."

"Not long, put on a robe and sit with me."

Two glasses sat by the fireplace. Each had shots of whiskey waiting for us. Jane snuggled next to me and covered us with a quilt so old it may have been the first one ever sewn.

"I'm glad you're back. I miss dancing."

"Did you stop dancing when I left?"

"Not here. I dance with Mikey every day, but I haven't been to Chewy's"

"Chewy's?"

"The dance club. Don't tell me you forgot."

"See, I told you it was a club."

"Stop it. And you?"

"Funny you ask. The farmers, especially the Mexican ones made fun of me all day. I played my Sony Walkman with the tapes you gave, nonstop. I danced like no one was watching."

"Lydia."

"Well, that didn't take you very long. I haven't seen or spoken to Lydia since before the first time I was here." Her soft hand touched the side of my face. "What about you and your old pal, Billy?"

"Billy, my arse. We've loathed each other since first grade. That's never changed. So, no other girls?"

"To tell you the truth, I didn't have much time for anyone else, because I spent all my time thinking about you."

"Look who's a smooth talker at the ripe old age of twenty-two."

Her hand pulled the lapel of my robe so our lips could touch. I wanted to reach into hers and feel any and all of her naked skin, but I wasn't about to rush things. Instead, I nuzzled at her neck and kissed the soft valley in her bare shoulder.

"Twenty-six."

"What's twenty-six?"

"I am. And I want you to know."

"Didn't you once tell me only fathers and husbands knew a woman's age?"

"I did. We've achieved the friends and lover's level in our relationship. The only natural thing left is..."

"Are you asking me to marry you, Jane."

"Hold your horses young one. Let's see how you handle knowing how much older I am than you."

"Four and a..."

"Almost five."

"Okay, almost five. Isn't so much. Jane, you're so beautiful, you don't look a day over twenty-five."

"See, I almost forgot what a snotty little Yank you were."

Her playful giggles filled the room as I pulled her to me, spilling small drops of whiskey as I did.

"I'll get those," I teased by moving my lips toward her cleavage."

The dog's growl stopped me, but he was looking at the door and at nothing else in particular. I assumed it was just a noise in the night, but Jane looked at me with a scrunched-up nose, and a smile. Then she pointed at the door.

"Seems you're about to meet my mum."

A small tap followed by the twist of the knob and in she stepped. An older version of the woman I loved. Same face, same body, same everything, except the hair. Jane's mother had hers cut short, much like a man.

"Sorry, Janey. Didn't know you were entertaining, and I didn't wanna wake the babe."

"Nor did I, mum. Michael, this is my mother. Elizabeth, like the Queen. Mum, this is my Michael."

I stood and tried my best to hide what had become a very hard penis. Bending my hips back, I held the robe closed with my left hand.

Jane's mum reached in and extended her right to me. Nervously, I excepted it. She shook my hand the same way a man would.

"Shame we didn't get a chance to meet last time you were here." Elizabeth pointed at Mikey's room. "But I'm glad you were here. Made a big impression on my Jane, you did. Thanks to you, the little treasure in there brought me and my family back together." She put down a bag and turned to the door. "I'll give you two some peace. Michael, are you staying in Wales long?"

Both women looked at me with questioning looks. One with far more interest than the other.

"I plan to. I just need to find some permanent work. I'll be working with my uncle for a while until something comes up."

"Yeah, what kind of work do you do? I might know a few blokes."

"Agriculture. Mostly. Crop and animal science are my specialties. I spent the past couple years working on farms and learning the trade."

"You what?" Jane's jaw was slack, and her mouth was wide open.

"I'll explain later. But I also have a degree in whiskey making, believe it or not."

"Is that what's in the bag? A nip of the golden nectar?" Jane asked about the bag I had placed by the door.

"No, it's a bottle of wine from California."

Elizabeth scooped up the bottle and crumpled the bag with her spare hand.

"Nice. Very nice. What say we pop the cork?"

"Mum..."

By the tone of her daughter's voice, Elizabeth knew it was time to go.

"Night, Janey. Michael, I like the idea of having another man around the farm. We can't pay much, but we do have lots of work for you."

When the door closed, I immediately turned to Jane. She answered before I even asked the question.

"She means her. My mum believes she was born a man. Turned into a woman. Lived with my father until his death, then transformed back into a man."

"A man named, Elizabeth?"

"Her middle name is Sally, and she hates it, so Liz and Beth work for her."

Jane picked up the wine bottle and held it to the light. Read the label and put it down.

"Enough about my mum. Tell me about the farm stuff."

"Not much to tell. I fell in love with lots of things over here. I called home and my father changed my course path. And here I am."

"Tell me, exactly what did you fall in love with over here?"

"Edward and Marge. Their girls. Their property and how hard they work and the joy they get from living off the land. The field of wildflowers he refuses to work because of how much Marge loves to pick fresh ones when they bloom. I love the feel of a horse's soft nose rubbing my hand when I feed it a sugar cube. The squeal of piglets when they think they've lost their mother. I love the country vibe and the people who live nearby. And I absolutely love your old, under worked, under cared for pear trees. With some TLC they will give you so much fruit you'll want to cut them down, but the one and only thing I truly love. The thing bringing back here, is you. Jane, I don't have much, but whatever I have is yours if you'll take it."

"Take it? Michael, I've never let it go."

"Tell me about Mikey. I say I loved all those things, and I didn't even know he existed."

"He's a lot like his daddy. Stubborn with a touch of arrogance. He's loveable, but he dearly misses a man around the house. And he can't wait to get to know you."

"What about you?"

"I can't wait to get to know you again either."

"How many children will we have?"

"Two sounds like the magic number."

"Perfect. When do we start practicing?"

"Practice? Unless you forgot everything, I taught you, you won't need any practice."

*****

The following years passed faster than I would have ever imagined.

Iris was born eighteen months after my return to Wales. Like Jane said, two was our magic number for children. The perfect family. As our children grew, so did the farm. We made do with the old house until we eventually had to put on an addition. Elizbeth offered us the big house, but we declined. There were far too many memories where we were, and we had vowed never to leave them behind.

We took over a few parcels from Edward and Marge, who decided to retire in Spain with her brother. The oldest of their daughters kept the farm in the family for a while. She married and started her own on the same property the Clarke's had lived for a very long time, but as time passed, she needed to leave. So, at the ripe old age of twenty-one, Mikey and his finance, with our assistance, purchased the land from his second cousin. And once again, the Clarke name was on the deed.

On the times when my parents or siblings visited, they could easily see my attraction to where I lived. They adored their grandchildren and everything that came with.

Over the years, we worked the orchards and farm back to life. Sadly, many of the older pear trees were removed and replaced, but one special one remains. And every time we pick fruit from it, Jane reminds me of the day we spent laying beneath it. She tells me it was the day I truly became a man.

As for Jane and myself, ours has been a long and loving life. Far more up moments than downs. We have watched our children grow and have watched our grandchildren as well. Sitting together on our front porch, we love to reminisce about the summer we first met and the things we've seen and done since.

And every evening, as I drift off to sleep, I feel special knowing that the love of my life is wrapped in my arms. My Jane. My Plain Jane. My Plain Jane the Chameleon.