The Spinster's Club

AMY: Three

Amy tugged at the waistband of her skirt and cursed Romy once more. Maybe she should have shared the kisses but only a fool would give those little pieces of delight to the philistines that she worked with.

Of course those philistines weren't bloated and trying to loosen their clothes because they were selfish pigs.

Still, Romy probably knew what she was doing by sending them with their strange little thank you note and Amy wasn't one to look a gift kiss in the mouth.

Damn but her skirt was tight. It was exhausting being the short fat one next to Cece's string bean. And now she was even fatter although not shorter. She teetered on her heels and hurried along the sidewalk.

She was delighted that Dr. Izam—Sebastien, had invited her to this party. Apparently she chose well in choosing her fake boyfriend. This was a chance to schmooze with doctors and administration and maybe kick her career into another place.
Which would also appease part of the challenge.

The party was being held at a restaurant Amy had never heard of: Caitlyn's. But she was excited, imagining good food, insider conversation and the chance to network. As well as be seen as Seb's date.

Dating a doctor when not a nurse was quite the coup. Even if the doctor was gayer than a goose and probably filled with pate.

The thought of foie gras got her moving even quicker. Which was a terrible mistake as her ankle wobbled unsteadily and she pitched forward.


"Steady there sweetheart."
A strong hand had her elbow and steadied her.

"Oh thank you," Amy gushed turning to face a woman who made her feel even fatter and shorter than she already was. "Oh my God, are you a model? You're so beautiful."

The woman laughed, obviously pleased by the compliment.

"Aren't you too sweet? I'm so glad I saved you from taking a header. And no, not a model. I'm a banker."

"A banker with those cheekbones? That's a crime."

"Oh I do like you." She linked her arm through Amy's. "My name is Ursula and you are?"

"Amy. I was going a party at Caitlyn's."

"What a co-inky-dink, that's where I'm going to. I didn't know you were one of us. Which doctor is yours?"

"Sebastien Izambard."

"Oh my God, really." Ursula stared at Amy. "Really? Sebbie did you? I had no idea he was doing that."

For the briefest of moments it stung, hard. She wasn't a woman who got the hot boyfriend or even one she really wanted to show off. She was a cast-off queen. Clothes that didn't fit well, a job that bored her and no chance at a hot doctor.
This charade was the biggest fallacy and what made it a fallacy was the idea that a woman like her could get a man like him.

Gay or not.

"Well good job Dr Izambard," Ursula said and Amy startled. "You are perfection, girlfriend. No one would ever suspect. He must be so proud of you, I'll bet he loves to show you off. I am so going to congratulate Sebbie on you," Ursula said. "Just gorgeous."

It was like a balloon lifting off in her mind, the sudden light headed giddiness that overtook her.

This is what it should feel like, she thought later as she dipped a mozzarella stick into marinara sauce. It should feel free. It should feel like a warm pool of acceptance, just floating and relaxed and knowing that people like you for who you are and not how you look. Ursula looked like a movie star with those killer cheekbones and almond shaped eyes. Her skin was perfection and she rocked the leather dress she was wearing. Ursula flitted from person to person, she knew everyone but she always came back to Amy and made sure to introduce her to someone new or just brush a compliment over her cheek with a kiss.

"You look happy." Seb sat on the stool next to her. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a soft blue, striped shirt. He was devastating, handsome and casual and too much goodness for one woman to take in.

"I like this." Amy indicated the party. "I thought it was a work thing so I overdressed..."

"You look amazing," Seb said. "But I'm sorry if I wasn't clear."

"No, I like this. Everyone is so nice. And Ursula is just..."

She didn't have words to express the way she was feeling. Were there words for the elation of someone thinking you were all that and a bag of barbecue chips besides?

"I'm sorry about Ursula," Seb said quickly. "But don't worry, I explained everything."

"Oh." She felt a flush burn on her cheeks. "You mean about our pretend dating?"

"No." Seb looked at her confused. "That belongs to only you and me. I mean that she thinks I did your surgery. She knows I don't do that. I'm a hospitalist."

"My surgery?" Suddenly her giddy balloon sprung a slow leak. "I had my tonsils out when I was eleven. That's it."

"Your gender reassignment surgery." Seb shook his head. "Why she got that idea."

"Gender reassignment? What are you talking about?"

"This party." Seb smiled at a woman walking by the table.

Suddenly Amy realized that most of the women there were tall and like Ursula were striking. They carried themselves with more confidence and had extra flair.

"Oh Jesus," Amy swore.

"I thought you might be more comfortable socializing here," Seb explained, "since you were so clearly uncomfortable at La Cage. I know that becoming a woman is a hard adjustment."

She felt faint.

"I am a woman." Her voice was little more than a whisper.

"Yes you are," Seb agreed, "and a lovely one."

"No Seb, I am a woman." Amy leaned forward. "All me, all natural. I was never a man. I'm not gender reassigned."

"You aren't?" Seb looked honestly confused. "But that's what I heard at the hospital."

"You heard that I used to be a man?" She was horrified.

"Someone said you keep your balls in your purse," Seb said, "and I noticed that you still had stubble on your chin. I can fix that you know. A little estrogen cream..."

"Excuse me." Amy stumbled off the stool and to her feet. "I need to go to the bathroom."

Seb watched her go and she never saw his smile or the wink he sent across the room to Ursula.