Widower, 48, Seeks Husband by Raymond Luczak

Author:Raymond Luczak
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781955826327
Publisher: Rattling Good Yarns Press

13

BETSY

When Betsy got the call from Nick, she was a bit confused at first. Usually very good with faces and names, she tried to place his face. Nick Clayton? What did he look like? Maybe Timm had mentioned something about Howie’s friend. If he had, she couldn’t remember anything. Sensing the panic in his voice, she agreed to meet him at Dunn Bros Coffee on West 15th overlooking Loring Park an hour later. She wore a blouse, slacks, and a faux fur jacket; she wore her long hair tight in a bun. Even though she wasn’t as slender as the actress Diana Rigg, she loved the way she carried herself. She made sure that the bright red lacquer hadn’t chipped off her fingernails before she ordered a stiff espresso. She was due to show up at the Gay 90s in an hour. It wouldn’t take long to change. Besides, those drag shows always started notoriously late. The bar certainly didn’t seem to mind because it meant more drinks would be sold to the waiting customers.

She sat down in a plush chair next to the fireplace on the front patio and sipped. A woman tapped on her wireless laptop a few chairs away.

A gray-haired short man wearing a thick coat and earmuffs strode in. He took off his leather gloves. “Queen Betsy?”

“Oh, yes.”

He bowed before her and shook her hand. “Your Majesty.”

She glanced around. “This isn’t a gay bar. I’m a woman.”

“Sorry.” He glanced at her espresso. “I’ll go get something to drink.” He left for the counter up the steps in the back.

She thought about how Nick had greeted her and felt a slight churn in her stomach. At first, when she called herself Queen Betsy, she thought it a fitting one at the time. Now? Her name and legend had decreed that people meeting her must bow before her as if she was royalty. The problem was, she wasn’t even a drag queen. She was a heterosexual woman who could dress up to the hilt with the best of them; she only happened to have been a man in a former lifetime. She loved every queen who strutted across the tiny stage on the third floor of the Gay 90s every weekend. It didn’t matter if the queen couldn’t lip-sync perfectly to the recording or not. Many of them weren’t all that great, but it still didn’t matter. What was important was the act of dressing up to be something they were inside. A few were trans, but most of them were gay men who loved to, in the words of a friend, “drag it up.” A few of them were straight with understanding wives.

Ever since the pain between her legs subsided after the surgery, she worked hard on sublimating the little telltale details of being a woman into herself. She worked with a speech pathologist who specialized in working on voice and pitch with transitioning transgender individuals. She was puzzled at first when she began attending voice and speech therapy sessions.

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