Chapter Thirty Five

If Goldie had learned anything in life, it was how to survive. Going back to that hellhole with Charles and Melanie the night before had dredged up a lot of old, painful memories. She presented a happy façade when she was at the club, especially when she was on stage, but it was getting harder and harder to maintain.

Being different meant keeping secrets. Keeping secrets meant being alone. It was easier keeping all the lies straight that way, but it was lonely. Some might say otherwise, but there is one need all people share: to be loved unconditionally. The burden of secrecy eventually had worn Goldie down.

It had started when he was a child trying on his mother’s shoes. Then he became intrigued with how easily makeup could change him from being a he, to a she. Then the idea of wearing women’s panties under his clothes became appealing. He would sit at his desk in school with a secret smile when he thought about the red silk panties under his jeans.

It had been a happy secret until the day he was discovered in his feminine underwear in the locker room at sixteen and been beaten severely. That was when he had learned the saying about sticks and stones was a fucking lie. Words did hurt. Words like faggot and homo cut him to the core.

It was his last day of school. He’d had no way of knowing it would be the last day he ever went home. His father had nearly killed him when the school called to report the locker room altercation and the reason behind it. His mother had wrung her hands but hadn’t stopped him. What was a mother good for if she couldn’t keep her kids safe? One good thing about going transgender was that he would never have to find out. He vowed at a young age: no kids.

She had stumbled across Shady Ladies by chance. She’d been walking the streets of Louisville all day. It was raining as she stood beneath the awning of the bar. When the door opened, she quickly walked away but not before looking back at the man who stood there frowning at her. Ross had followed her, eventually stopping her by grabbing her arm. He had looked down in horror at the bruises and cuts there, illuminated in all their mottled glory beneath a streetlamp.

“You poor thing. What the hell happened to you?” As he took in her bruised and battered face and the way she swayed on her feet, his eyes were full of compassion. It was the first time Goldie had ever had anyone look at her with such acceptance. She knew in that moment that she’d found a friend.

He didn’t wait for an answer, just pulled her into the bar and back into his office. She watched him from the chair by his desk as he pulled a first-aid kit from a cabinet. He knelt in front of her and opened it, retrieving the supplies he needed. He asked her again what had happened.

“Who the hell did this to you, kid?”

Goldie spent the next fifteen minutes giving him the condensed version of what it was like to be a woman in a man’s body. It was a story Ross knew all too well.

“Well, love, fate has seen fit to bring you to the right place. I have an apartment you can live in, a job you can work while you’re underage. And, even better, my lawyer is a fucking shark. I keep him on retainer so we’ll go ahead and get you emancipated. You never have to be afraid again. I promise, you’ve found a place where you belong.”

At first Goldie worried that he might be a sugar daddy who would expect sexual favors for her to earn her keep. She figured that even being subjected to a sugar daddy’s demands would be better than being at home. But eventually she discovered that Ross was nothing but a caring soul.

He kept every promise he ever made to her. After she was emancipated it was legal for her to work in the bar. Ross had taken care of her until the day she was of legal age. They shared a bond because of all they’d been through but it never went past that. Though they loved each other, they weren’t in love. He was like the father she’d never had; the father she should have had.

Love had eluded her all her life. She didn’t want to grow old and become a hateful, embittered drag queen. Why did love that came naturally for so many others elude her? She had never known what unconditional love was. Through a string of one-night stands and broken promises, she was no further along in life now than the night she had cowered in the pouring rain under the awning of Shady Ladies.

“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

“Oh! Hey, girl,” Goldie exclaimed, unable to hide her surprise as she met Queen Bee’s gaze in the mirror.

“What has you so deep in thought?” Queen Bee asked as she cocked her head to the side and rested her hands on her hips.

“Oh. My. God!” Goldie said as her gaze dropped to the twinkling jewelry on Queen Bee’s left hand. She grabbed Queen Bee’s hand and took a closer look. “How the hell many carats is that thing? Five?!”

Queen Bee scrunched up her nose and sniffed delicately. “Six, actually.”

“And it’s canary yellow. It’s gorgeous. I’ve never seen anything like it, except for JLo’s old ring maybe.”

“Now, that thing was gorgeous.”

“It sure was. But this might just be prettier, I think. Oh, honey, I’m so damn jealous of you.” She giggled when she said it but she could feel the green-eyed monster growing stronger by the minute.

“Isn’t it fantastic? Terry found it at this super exclusive little jewelry store here in Louisville. He knows the owners somehow. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I tell you, it’s only been, like, a week, but…when it’s right, it’s right. That man and me…mm-mmm. Honey, we’ve only come up for air tonight because I need to earn my keep around here. I’m not even sure when he’s had the time to go ring shopping. I’ve been keeping him busy, know what I mean?” She leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, “He told me this morning that it’s a shame I insist on keeping this job because that means I have to get dressed to go out. Terry said that if he had his way, he’d throw away all my clothes and just keep me naked and ready for him. Can you believe that?”

Goldie forced a laugh. Even though she felt bad about it, Goldie envied her friend. Couple that with her overwhelming survivor’s guilt, and it was almost too much for her.

She was doing things she shouldn’t, things she had to hide. She was right back where she’d started: weighed down with secrets that would cost her everything if anyone found out. She had done something she wished like hell she could undo, but it was too late now. She had crossed the point of no return.