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"The world's a bright and shiny apple that's mine, all mine."

"Pocketful of Miracles" - Harpers Bizarre

I stopped packing for a moment and looked out through the newly replaced glass in my apartment window. The day was sunny - not a cloud in the sky. It seemed odd that everything could feel so right and yet so incredibly wrong. I only had to think about being with Star to feel those wonderful deep shivers all over again, and yet he wasn't here with me but back at home with his wife and family. I could only guess that our shared experience hadn't meant to him what it did to me. I tried not to let it, but it hurt.

But, whatever his reasons for instigating what we'd done, I believed he had meant to help me. He cared about me, he was my friend, and that would just have to be enough.

The little apartment was almost empty. Goodwill had been thrilled to take all of Eve's clothes, and I'd given them the furniture too. I'd originally rented the apartment in the name of Evan, so it was easy to explain my "sister's" departure and my brief return.

While I was at it, I'd asked for vampire help in updating my paperwork. My current ID had said forty years old, and there was no way I could pass for more than twenty-five. Luckily, vampires dealt with such changes all the time, in their own long lives.

There had been one short but painful good-bye scene with Mr. D. It broke my heart to see the sorrow he couldn't completely hide. I'd also grown very fond of him, but I knew our relationship would be over, now that I was back in my original body. He didn't touch me at all, not even a handshake, but I felt his eyes follow me until the door closed.

"Take care, Evan," he said. Shit.

Now I had only a single suitcase and a destination. I was going back to New York City… the fast way this time, without benefit of public transportation. It took about half a second to jump to a shadowy corner in the lobby of the downtown YMCA. Once I'd stashed my clothes in one of their small rooms, I went in search of Dan. Our former apartment had other tenants now, and a pocketful of change and a few miles of shoe leather convinced me he was gone - and none of my friends or his knew where. The consensus was that he'd gotten some kind of out of state job offer and left the city altogether.

Well, I was the one who'd left him first. I had no right to think he'd be waiting around when I got back. I just wished I'd had the courage to tell him good-bye to his face. Five years together is a long time.

Walking the familiar streets was oddly unsettling. I hadn't been gone that long, but things seemed different, though everything looked much the same. I had to conclude that the changes were only in me.

Well, for the last couple of hours I'd been doing nothing but dragging my feet. There was really only one person I'd come to New York to see, and since it was just after dark, I was betting I knew exactly where to find her. Still, it was a relief to see her perched on her favorite bar stool, just like always.

For years Frankie had been my very best girlfriend, and now I'm going to let her tell the story her way. Just don't believe everything she says about me.

Frankie

I like surprises, they liven things up. Mind you, I'm not knocking boredom. I always hear people complain about being bored, but I find it nice and relaxing when I can get it. I'll take a pleasant surprise though, anytime. You get so many unpleasant ones.

I was sitting on my favorite barstool in Sam's Place, that Saturday night. I'm a regular there, ask anybody. I don't drink a lot these days, not like I have at some points in my life. Drinking doesn't change anything. Now I just like to absorb a nice glow of an evening, with music in the background and a few friends to talk to.

Sam's is a gay bar, mostly. No, I'm not a lezzy. I got nothing against them and their lifestyle, but I'm straight, and I still like a little male companionship now and then. The best place I've found for just that, with no complications, is this nice little gay bar where, like I said, I'm a regular.

Sometimes newcomers think I'm one of the drag queens, and if you could see the beauties that come in here, you'd know that was a compliment, and that was how I always took it. I'm tall and on the thin side, and I dress nice and keep the red hair touched up good. I think I look all right for pushing forty.

Maybe it's funny for a prostitute to say she likes men, but I got out of the life a long time ago. Well, not completely out, I ran a house for a few years… which is a lot safer and more profitable way to make a living than working the streets, let me tell you. Hire a couple of strong, smart guys as bouncers, make arrangements with the local law, and the green starts rolling in. Having been a working girl myself, I think I treated my girls pretty nice too.

I hung on to most of the money I made, got off the hard stuff, and made some sound investments. Now I'm okay financially and can send my two boys money for college on a regular basis. They're good kids - almost teenagers now - live with my sister in Virginia. New York City's no place to raise a family.

Jennie wants me to move down there, spend more time with her and the boys, and maybe I will… someday. But right now I think I'd miss the hustle and bustle of the city. I've been here so long, it's my home… you know?

Anyway, I was sitting there, still sipping my first gin and tonic of the evening, when he walks in. Two years since I've seen him. That was right before he broke up with his boyfriend, and I knew Dan hadn't heard a thing from him in all that time either. Dan wasn't pissed about it, just hurt for a while.

Come to think of it, I hadn't heard from Dan in a few months. Well, people tended to move on, and they weren't obligated to leave a forwarding address with me.

I almost didn't recognize him at first. I don't know why because, now that I think of it, he was dressed pretty much the same as always - jeans and a T-shirt - so it had to be something else that had changed. Maybe he carried himself a little differently. Hard to describe, but clear as day to me. I'd made my living reading body language.

I guess I loved all the gay guys, in a way, but I had my favorites, and he was one of them. We had always laughed and talked together - more than just the usual banter, I mean - really talked. I used to tease him sometimes about being with a woman, and at first he kind of turned green at the idea, but after a while it was just one of our private jokes, and we left it as a standing agreement that I was available if he was ever in the market.

I wasn't sure he saw me, at first. Then he looked over, and his face kind of lit up in that great grin I remembered. I'm looking back on it now, but that grin was different too. He saw me.

I mean, he'd always seen me before - as a person - that was one of the things I always liked about Evan. But all of a sudden he was seeing me differently - as a woman. That particular grin of his had always been directed at guys in the past; now it was for me. It's going to sound crazy, but I think I might have blushed. I know my mouth fell open, and I forgot all about the drink in my hand.

Yeah, it definitely sounds crazy. See, I never got carried away with any of the guys in my past, not even the boy in high school who was my first. I knew even at fifteen that he was an air-headed jock who only wanted to get his rocks off with a cheerleader. That was okay - in my own way I used him too. All the girls envied me when I was on his arm at the junior prom, and when the other guys from the football team took notice, their girlfriends downright hated me. I didn't worry about any of that. I took what the guys offered and never cared what anyone else thought.

Men were men, and I figured that out early. They all wanted the same thing, and if I happened to deliver it, and they happened to pay me, then we were both happy. It was only when I met the gay guys that I learned men could be my friends.

So, there were two kinds of guys in my life, the straight guys whose needs paid the bills, and my gay buddies. And never the twain should meet, right?

I watched him walking over, his hair still black and shiny, eyes that soft gray. I'm almost six feet, tall for a broad, but I knew he looked down at me when we used to dance. Damn, he was still gorgeous.

I remembered my drink and slugged down most of it at once, making myself cough. I had just been seeing things, I told myself. This was my friend Evan, back in town and bumping into his old friend Frankie, same as ever. It had to be.

A couple of guys got in his way and he stopped to talk, but he caught my eye again over a big leather-daddy's shoulder. I smiled back and raised my glass, feeling a little better now that things were back to normal, but it wasn't more than a minute before Evan pushed past those guys and came on over.

"Hi, Frankie," he said, like it had been just last week that we talked. "How are you?"

I gave him back the best smile I had and reached out to hug him. I had missed him, after all.

"Not bad, gorgeous, how about yourself?"

Bending down, he held on tight, like he didn't want to let me go, or maybe he liked the smell of my shampoo or something. I stopped wearing perfume when I quit the streets - makes my allergies act up. He kept hold of my arms for a minute, looking into my eyes with kind of a weird, intense expression, then pushed back and sat down on the stool next to me.

"I'm okay, Frankie." He looked me over, head to foot. "You're looking good." He reached up and brushed a big hand lightly over my hair. "Still red." His look was so damn serious.

"Yeah," I said, "gotta stay with what works." Same old shtick; it was like old times… but not. Something had changed, and I knew it even then - I just didn't believe it.

He smiled, reached a hand out like he would touch me again and then put it down on the bar instead, as Ernie came over. Ernie had only been working there six months, so he didn't know Evan, but he looked him over pretty good. Ernie is hot too, blonde with broad shoulders popping out of a muscle shirt and a cute ass in his tight jeans. I saw their eyes meet, and for a minute it was business as usual because the sparks just flew. Then Evan said, "Bring the lady another drink, and I'll have a beer, please," and Ernie blinked his big blues and it was all over.

I was glad to have the fresh drink, even though I'd finished the last one in record time. I needed something to do with my hands - other than reach out and run them over that wide chest I'd always wanted to touch. Fine time for me to start feeling like a schoolgirl with her first crush.

He picked up the beer and took a sip, then just looked at it, cold and sweating in his hand. Still staring at the bottle he said, "It's really good to see you, Frankie. I didn't know if I remembered right, but…." He looked up then, right into my eyes. "You're still a beautiful woman… I never really appreciated that before."

It wasn't like I'd never heard that one from a guy, but for some reason I almost believed it, coming from him, and my face got so hot I knew it had to be as red as my hair. I wasn't mistaken this time. I had to believe he really was giving me that dog-at-a-bone look I'd seen so many times before on a man's face - but not on that face… not directed at me!

Okay, so my gay friend had somehow gone straight. What's so remarkable about that, right? I guess you had to know Evan to understand. Lots of gay guys swung both ways - they just preferred men to women as a rule - didn't mean they didn't fool around on the other side when they got the chance. Some of 'em even married some woman they liked… a lesbian, maybe, and raised families. But I'd never met a more devoutly gay man than Evan. It had always seemed that just talking about het sex was enough to turn his stomach. Nothing wrong with that; to each his own. I'd come to think of it as just a part of his personality.

The other thing was, he was gorgeous - I mean really striking. Oh, he slopped around in old jeans most of the time, but I was always telling him he should clean up a little, get some head shots taken, and sign on with the actor's guild. I wasn't the only person to tell him that, either. He always laughed it off, went on waiting tables and singing at some sleazy dive or other, like he thought his friends were just kidding him, or something.

So - he was terminally gay and gorgeous. I guess that wouldn't have been enough to bother me when the gay part changed, but I still haven't mentioned the most important thing about him. Ah - I don't know how to put it into words but… when he was in the room, you looked at him. Charisma, I guess you call it. And it was even more attractive because he didn't seem to know he had it. Like his looks, see? He wasn't snooty about it, would laugh if you said anything. Part of it was he always saw me, saw everybody. He wasn't off in his own world, worrying about his hair or his next lay; he was with you when he was with you. Does that make any sense?

I give up, I can't explain it. But somehow, knowing that we were just friends and couldn't be anything else had made how I felt about him safe , understand? Now all of a sudden I was working without a net. He was a lot younger than me, anyway… not that age matters if you're Zsa Zsa Gabor, but I'm not her. Sure, I looked okay, but what younger man was going to be interested in me for more than an emergency fuck at my age, when there were a dozen available young women on the street right outside?

I got even more upset when I realized I couldn't remember the last time I'd had sex because I wanted to, with someone I liked. How many more chances at that was I likely to have?

I looked at him, right into those perfect gray eyes, got up my courage and took the chance that part of me knew wasn't a chance at all. "Evan, do you want to go back to my place?" I said. And his face lit up like a kid's at Christmas.

When I added, almost without meaning to, "Just to talk?" his smile wavered a little, but then he looked at me, kind of ironic.

"I'd like that, Frankie." And we were okay.

He held out his elbow as we went outside. I'd seen enough movies to know to put my arm through his, though I'd never done it. It was nice, walking like that, looking up once in a while and him always looking over at me.

I have a nice apartment, even if it is small. It's only me, after all; I refuse to keep a cat, like some old maid. But plants I got - all kinds and all over the place. I like plants, they're cheery. Evan surprised me by going around the room, touching leaves and flowers - almost seemed like he was talking to them. I went into the kitchenette and made coffee, found some fruit and cheese in the fridge in case he was hungry, searched around for an ashtray. We used to smoke together, but I quit last year after my aunt died of lung cancer. Gotta do what you can. I always noticed the tobacco smell on people now, and he didn't have it. Maybe he quit too.

I had everything laid out on the little table, real nice, when he came over and sat down. I sat and poured us coffee, putting some cream and sugar in mine. Evan added his usual three lumps but left it black. Some things hadn't changed, I guess.

Now we were alone, I didn't know what to say, what to do. I started to tell him about the neighborhood and our friends since he'd been gone, left out anything about Dan - I didn't know where he was anyway.

When I finished, he started to talk. He told me about finding a relative he never knew he had, a cousin who lived out in California. How he'd gone out there to see him and ended up staying. He told me all about surfing and singing and his cousin Paul and his wife and their twin boys, and then he was quiet, looking down at the table. I waited, just letting him take his time. Finally he looked up at me.

"I can't explain it, Frankie. I know it doesn't make any sense, but…." He was staring at me and I couldn't look away. "Somehow I've changed, and… Frankie, I need your help." I held my breath. "Does that old offer still stand?" One side of his mouth pulled up in a half smile and then fell, like he was scared but trying not to show it.

I knew right away which offer he meant. I would have known even if he hadn't looked down at his lap, kind of apologetic-like, where something big was pushing against the buttons of his jeans from the inside. Some big, strong, good looking guys are stuck with little tiny pricks. It didn't look like Evan was one of them.

I'd never been a size queen like some of the guys. Hell, the size of a man's dick was secondary to the size of his wallet, with me. But I couldn't help looking where he was looking and wondering, wanting to see it and touch it.

"Baby," I said quietly. "You know me… would I go back on my word?" We both smiled then, and it was like old times, but better.

This is going to be hard to believe, but I'd never been with anyone like him before. He'd asked me to undress for him, real slow, and I did, proud of the body that nature gave me and I worked so hard to keep up. I'd never had any knife work done so there was nothing to hide, and I loved the feel of his eyes watching, moving over me, everywhere.

He wasn't like the usual john, grabbing and in a hurry. When he touched me it was more like a kid, trying things out for the first time, not sure of himself or demanding. It really turned me on. His touch was like electricity on my skin, and his caresses made me feel special - like a princess somehow. Oh hell, I told you you wouldn't believe it.

I had to show him everything. He was clumsy, but he learned fast, and he didn't come right away like a kid would have. He rocked along with me, nice and slow, moaning and sighing his appreciation now and then. I was the one that came quick, riding that red-hot-poker all the way up inside me, shivering and yelling out like I had never bothered pretending to do with a john. And then, before he was done, I came twice more, falling over onto his chest with the last one, both of us sweaty and shaking. It really got to me when he called out my name like that at the end.

That would have been the perfect time for a cigarette, like in the old movies. But instead we just lay there a while and he rubbed my back, which was even better.

Maybe it was stupid, but I just had to ask him. "Why me, honey?"

He smiled real big. "Because I trust you. You've always been a good friend. I don't know women, Frankie, and I need someone to teach me. Of all the women in this world, you're the only one I know well enough to trust."

Our eyes were about three inches apart. I had to close mine for a minute while a tear or two leaked out; I don't know why.

"I'm a very lucky person, Frankie. I just figured that out not so long ago. But I've lived kind of a worthless life, up till now." I wanted to argue with him, but I kept my mouth shut - it was his story. "I need to learn how to give something back."

I thought about that for a while. "What does knowing about women have to do with giving back?"

He smiled again - shy, like sunshine peeking around a cloud. "I don't know, Frankie. I'm just feeling my way, here." He ran his thumb over one of my nipples, making me jump. I had to laugh, and he did too, a little. "I think," he said slowly, "I think it's about finally becoming a whole person."

That was too deep for me. I decided to keep it practical.

"What do you want to learn about women, sweetie?"

He laughed, big and booming this time. "Everything," he said, "everything!"

I laughed too. "That could take a while, handsome. Sounds like we better keep going," I said, and he pulled me down and kissed me.

Do you know what that's like for a woman like me, to have someone so beautiful kiss you like that? Well - let me tell you, it was almost the best part.

We spent six weeks together, days and nights, taking breaks for cooking, or dinners out, and once in a while for a walk or a movie. It wasn't just sex he wanted to learn about, but how women think, and if it was different from how men looked at the world. He never told me what he decided about that.

We never used any protection. I'd been tested and knew I didn't have anything contagious, and he volunteered that he'd been tested too, without my even asking. Doctors had told me a long time ago that I couldn't get pregnant any more, and I'd thought that was a blessing, up till now.

I think I knew it was over before he did. I knew from the beginning that we wouldn't be riding off into the sunset together, and I thought all along that it would be bad when it ended - but it wasn't. It was more a kind of "mission accomplished" feeling. I'd helped a friend and fulfilled a fantasy all at the same time. I had nothing to complain about.

We lay in bed together, my head on his shoulder, that last morning, lazy and happy. He reached a finger over and turned my face up to his. "I won't forget about you, love. You know I'll keep in touch?" It was a question, but a statement, too.

I smiled, for some reason worry and tears were the last things on my mind. "Yeah… me too, lover." I'd given some thought to that "whole person" thing. Maybe I still had time enough to give that a try myself. We hugged and kissed and made love one last time, and then I fell asleep, warm in my own bed, and when I woke up he was gone. No money on the dresser… just one red rose. It smelled so sweet.

I'd put off a few doctor's appointments while Evan was with me. What difference was a couple of weeks going to make? I knew what the doc was going to say, and he knew I wasn't going for the treatment, and that was all he had to offer. Why vomit your guts up while your hair falls out in clumps when it wouldn't buy you anything more than a few extra months of misery?

I went in that day for another round of useless tests like they wanted, then waited a week for the follow-up appointment. In between I went to the botanic gardens to see the orchid show. It was a place Evan and I both liked.

When the morning came I dressed up, feeling content and not worried about anything. The nurse was nice and didn't even ask me to take my clothes off, just sent me down the hall to his office.

The doctor came in right away, sat and shuffled through the papers in my file, and then closed it and just looked at me. "I don't know quite how to say this, Ms. Farnsworth. It seems that tests can be wrong… even as many tests as we've taken. The latest ones show that there's nothing at all wrong with you… you're in perfect health." He leaned forward on the desk and lost that "doctor" look for a minute. "It isn't at all scientific, Frances, and please don't tell my colleagues I said so, but - miracles do happen. I'm glad that one of them happened to you." He smiled again when I shook his hand and gave me a couple Kleenex to take with me, out of the box we'd both been using.

I don't want to make it sound like I got religion or anything. I'm just going down to my sister's place for a visit, see? And maybe a little look around. Small towns aren't so bad. I was born in a little place in North Carolina. That can't be so very different from Virginia, can it?

It's not every day that you're part of a miracle, but when it happens, things are just bound to change. This dog isn't too old to turn over a new leaf. Never can tell what kind of surprise might be under it… could be something wonderful!