The Other Woman's Club

This is the story of a confused young man and a group of alpha-females. It takes place after the CoVid pandemic ends and as a second, catastrophic pandemic unfolds.

Prologue:

"Grandpa, how did you survive the great pandemic?"

"I'm sorry. What did you say?" I said looking up from the chess board into the sweet innocent eyes of my 12 year old granddaughter. I had actually heard her question; I was just stalling for time, trying to decide just how I was going to answer.

"How did you survive the great pandemic? My teacher told us that nearly every man in the world died during the pandemic. She said that's why we don't see many old men walking around. When I told her that my grandpa was old and he was not only walking around but could still jog on the treadmills in the club where he and my grandma still lived, she laughed and said I was very lucky to have both my grandparents. When I told her I may have another grandmother who lives in Mexico, she just smiled and asked the class how many other kids had grandfathers who were still alive. I was the only one."

I didn't want to lie to her, and yet, I didn't want to tell her the truth either. So, I lied by omission.

"I don't really know why I lived. I remember getting sick for a while, and then I just got better. I guess my mother took extra good care of me."

"I'm glad she did, otherwise, who would teach me all of the stuff that they don't teach us in school and who would teach me how to play chess. It's still your move."

Chapter One:

Later that night, after an extremely satisfying round of foreplay, at the age of 82 my wife no longer desires, nor has the energy for intercourse; but she still feels it's her duty to take care of her man, the conversation with my granddaughter kept going through my mind. I was carried back in time, nearly fifty-five years to a very turbulent period in our history, when everything seemed to be spiraling out of control.

I was sixteen years old and very confused. Why wasn't I like all of the other boys in my school? I was fair haired, slightly built, about average height, but I had no desire to do what my contemporaries were doing. I didn't date, I didn't play any sports, I had no hobbies, in fact, my only obsession was my appearance. I spent an unusual amount of time making sure I looked good. My clothes had to be in style, my hair and finger nails clean and groomed properly, and my shoes had to be polished.

One day, at a family gathering, I overheard a conversion between my father and my grandfather. 'In my day, we'd call him a 'dandy'. To which my father replied, 'well, in my day, we'd call him a queer, a homosexual. I don't know what we are going to do about him'.

I know I was great disappointment to him. But I wasn't homosexual. I wasn't attracted to either boys or girls. I had no sexual desires at all. I was a virgin. I hadn't even started to masturbate yet. 'Maybe I should become a priest!' I was so confused.

During the next two years, the school curriculum began to change. Human sexuality was discussed openly in health class. Although the term was not used until later, gender identification was the new hot topic. I felt somewhat relieved. I could relate to what the teacher was saying. 'Some people, she said, are born with the mind of one gender and the body of the other. Those people have to decide how they want to live the rest of their lives. There are treatments, including reassignment surgery, to match up the person's body and mind.'

That weekend, after my father had left on an extended business trip and my mother had left the house to do whatever she did during her day, I slipped into her walk-in closet and picked out a fancy cocktail dress and coordinating shoes.

I stripped out of my clothes, put on a pair of her throng underwear and stuffed a bra with tissues. Looking at myself in her floor-length mirror, I liked what I saw. I had little, if any body hair, my legs were nicely shaped and my butt was solid from all the walking I did. I sat at her make-up mirror and put on a little eye make-up and some accent powder on my cheek bones and some red lipstick. Satisfied, I slipped on the cocktail dress and her four-inch heels and stood staring at my reflection in the mirror.

I was so preoccupied with my appearance that I never heard my mother enter the room.

"If you are going to wear my clothes, the least you could do is to not have them look better on you than they do on me." She turned and left the room allowing me time to get changed, wash my face, and compose myself for what I assumed would be a long and nasty argument.

When I walked into the kitchen I spotted her sitting at the kitchen table, there were two cups of tea in front of her.

"Come sit, we have to talk."

For the next hour, I explained what I was doing and, more importantly, what I had been feeling for the last couple of years. She sat quietly listening to me as I let out all of my feelings of confusion and isolation. Afterwards it was her turn. She understood what I was telling her and she was sympathetic to my plight.

"You know, of course, this is going to kill your father. He always wanted a son. How can I tell him that his son believes that he is really a girl? We are going to have to do this one step at a time. The first thing we have to do is seek some professional advice as to just how your transformation should take place. Once we have that information we can decide just how far and how fast we can proceed. For now, we'll just keep this incident between us. I'll start laying the ground work with your father."

We stood and hugged. For the first time in my life I felt there was hope for my future.

Chapter Two:

When I think back about it, I can understand why my granddaughter was never taught that there were actually two pandemics. The first, the COVID-19 pandemic lasted nearly three years. Although that is subject to some debate; on March 11, 2020 the World Health Organization (WHO) declared COVID-19, the disease caused by the SARS-CoV-2 virus, a pandemic. However the first deaths actually occurred sometime during the fourth quarter of 2019 in Wuhan, China, while the first case in the United States was confirmed on January 19, 2020. During the last half of 2022 and the first half of 2023 the death rate from COVIC-19 had declined to between two and four times the long-term average death rate for influenza, the WHO never actually declared that the pandemic was over. At that time the world-wide death toll attributed to the disease totaled a little over six and a half million. That number would soon be dwarfed by what would occur next and be all but forgotten.

My father would be one of the first to die in Europe during his business trip to Switzerland in 2019. He had gone there to obtain financing for a deal involving the purchase, by a group of wine enthusiasts, of two of the largest privately held vineyards in Napa Valley. After a week of meetings with the owners of several large private banks in Zurich, the financing was obtained.

The next day, my mother, who was also my father's administrative assistant, received a large package of signed documents to forward to the attorneys involved. There was also a letter from my father.

'Babe, I've come down with some sort of bug. I've got a fever and body aches. I'm going to stay here for a couple of days until this flu passes. I'll let you know when I'm ready to come home. Hold down the fort like you always do in my absence. Love, me.'

That was the last communication we ever received from my father. Three days after the date of the letter he was admitted to a hospital in Zurich and died three days later. We received an urn of his ashes by Fed-Ex the following week.

I had started my first year at UCLA, but my heart wasn't in it. I went to my classes until the school shut down, while my mother went into the office. Without my father there was no business. The phones stopped ringing; there would not be any other deals. She cleaned out my father's desk and file cabinets, took down the pictures from the walls, and informed the management company that the office was now available for rent.

One night over dinner, I asked the question that I had been too worried to ask.

"Mom, what are we going to do now? How are we going to live? I can quit school and get a job if that will help."

"Dallas, what are you talking about? We'll be just fine; your father left us financially very secure. Your father was a very savvy investor. He favored real estate, but also invested in blue chip companies, and several of the tech companies in Silicon Valley. That doesn't include money he invested in gold and silver and money he kept in treasury bills and certificates of deposit. He also had a large life insurance policy, plus the finder's fee on that vineyards deal which I just received."

I visibly relaxed.

With a chuckle, mom continued. "I made an appointment with a doctor here in Beverly Hills for early next week. I want you to begin your transformation as soon as possible."

Talk about anxiety. Was I really going to do this? I found out the first phase of my transformation would be a year of hormone therapy. Phase two would be breast augmentation or "top surgery" and finally after another year of hormone treatments, genital surgery.

But before anything could be started, I needed several visits with a therapist to determine my state of mind and my expectations for my future.

My psychological tests went fine and I started my hormone treatments while the world around me went crazy. On February 3

rd

2020, the Department of Homeland Security directed that all flights from mainland China be re-routed through one of eleven airports for enhanced health screenings and possible quarantine. On February 25, the CDC incident manager for the COVID-19 response held a tele-briefing and braced the nation to expect mitigation efforts to contain the SARS-CoV-2 virus in the U.S. that would include school closings, workplace shutdowns, and the canceling of large gatherings and public events. On March 13, the President declared a nationwide emergency and issued an additional travel ban on non-U.S. citizens traveling from 26 European countries.

On March 15, states began the implementation of mandatory shutdowns of school systems and non-essential workplaces. And on March 19, the California governor issued a statewide stay-at-home order to slow the spread of COVID-19, instructing residents to only leave their homes when necessary and shutting down all but essential businesses.

I continued my hormone therapy sessions in spite of the Governor's mandate because my sessions were considered essential for my mental and physical health and well-being. Masking and social distancing became the "new normal" for most individuals. Many restaurants and bars, where space permitted, opened outdoor dining. It also became apparent that the rules mandated for the majority of individuals did not necessarily pertain to the "ruling class or the elites" who flaunted the mandates.

"We have to get out of this state before they shut us down completely" my mother proclaimed one evening at dinner. "I've decided that this house is entirely too big for us and, therefore, I'm going to put it up for sale. Even in this economy, the ultra-rich are always looking for estates in Beverly Hills."

"But what about my treatments; my surgery is scheduled for early next year, and what about my schooling? Where would we live?"

"Nothing will change. You will continue your treatments. Your surgical schedule will remain the same. And since you're taking courses online, who cares where you live. As for where we will live, do you remember where we spent your spring break during your senior year?"

"Sure, it was that place in Arizona; that resort for active seniors, with the golf course, swimming pools, and health spa and gym."

"That's right; your father bought that house where we stayed in a foreclosure sale from the bank."

"But if I remember correctly, wasn't there an age restriction on ownership in the community. Didn't one of the owners have to be at least 55 years old? You're a lot younger than 55; will they let us live there now that Dad is dead?"

"I called them yesterday. They told me that as long as your father was over the required age for ownership at the time we purchased the house, as long as I was on the deed at that time, I would be 'grandfathered in'. Whenever you need a treatment we can either fly in for your treatment or, if they restrict flights into California, we can always drive to L.A. It's only six hours of driving each way. With two drivers, we can do that in one day if we have to."

Since all the schools were shut down anyway because of the pandemic, I decided to enroll in the fall at the University of Phoenix, an on-line University. If at some time in the future schools re-opened and allowed in -class learning, I could always transfer my credits.

It took a little longer than my mother had anticipated to sell the Beverly Hills Estate; but in January of 2021, the house was finally sold and we set out for Trilogy at Vistancia, Peoria, Arizona. We only took our clothes, some personal items, and some treasured memorabilia. Our new home had been purchased fully furnished and was practically brand new. Mom said that we could replace anything that we felt we absolutely had to have after we had lived there for a while.

The first things that we did replace were both of the family cars. My mother felt that the 5 year old Mercedes-Maybach S class that my father had driven and her Mercedes-Maybach GLS-SUV were impractical and over the top for the community in which we would now be living; so she traded them in on a new Honda CR-V EX-L for herself and a Honda Civic Sport Hatchback for me.

The neighborhood was quiet, really quiet. I had expected to see a lot more people on the street or working in their yards.

"Dallas, you have to remember that this is a community for older people. Because the sun is so intense and the heat is so oppressive in the spring and summer, most people stay inside during the day. You'll see some people walking or bike riding early in the morning or later in the day, but for the most part they stay inside or on their patios during the day. As for working in the yard, we all hire landscapers to cut back the plants and check on the drip irrigation systems."

"Then what do they do all day."

"Some go shopping, some cook, but most of them spend their day at the club house or around the community pools or in the gyms. The rest just exist, watching the TV or reading, waiting to die. We will not be one of those people."

"For the last few days, while you were on the computer taking classes, I explored the community center. They have a couple of pool tables, a library, a health spa, and plenty of comfortable seating for gathering with friends. There is also a small café for breakfast, lunch, or snacks to enjoy with your favorite adult beverage. Then I went out to the pool; it's even nicer than I remembered. At this time of year it was pretty empty, only the heartiest of people were sitting around the pool taking in the sunshine. That's where I met a fascinating group of women. There were only four of them, but they had such a presence about them that I had to get to know them better. I felt a kindred spirit with them, so I asked if they minded if I joined them."

'You look like you fit in with us, but in order to join the 'Other Woman's Club' you have to meet certain requirements.' "Then they introduced themselves and told me their stories."

The unofficial leader of the group spoke first and asked a seemingly unrelated question.

"Have you ever listened to Anne Lenox's 'Diva' album?"

"When I replied that I loved the album and had a copy on CD somewhere in the house, she said, 'Good, you see we are all divas, and we live our lives following the tenants of one song in particular; 'Keep Young & Beautiful' and especially one stanza.

'Take care of all those charms

and you'll always be in someone's arms.

Keep young and beautiful, if you want to be loved.'

"We formed the club two summers ago after an incident that happened here at the pool and involved our sister, Monique.

"Monique, as you can see is frighteningly beautiful; in short, she's long, lean, and lovely. During that summer she had already raised the ire of more than half of the old biddies that sit around the pool with their aging husbands. After a half an hour on each side in the intense summer sun she was extremely hot and sweaty. She stood up and after adjusting her rather skimpy swimsuit, she calmly strolled over to the low end of the pool and proceeded to walk until the water reached her knees. Then she squatted down, stretched out and began to slowly swim the entire length of the pool. When she reached the stairs at the other side of the pool, she stood and slowly climbed the stairs out of the pool, while water cascaded down her perfect body. Then she turned and slowly paraded along the edge of the pool, in front of all those people sitting around the pool and in full view of those in the pool. It was funny to watch the heads of every male turn slowly as they followed her all the way back to her chair.

"That night, there was an emergency meeting of the HOA executive committee. They discussed the complaints they had received from the females that had witnessed the "shameful spectacle" they had witnessed that day at the pool; and their demands for her membership to be terminated immediately. After an hour of searching the community's By-Laws, they could not find a regulation that she had violated or a reason to expel her from the community. Their only option was to go to her, explain the situation, and hope that they could come to a reasonable solution for both sides.

"The next day, three members of the committee, all males of course, approached her and asked if they could speak to her in private.

'There's nothing that you have to say to me that can't be said right here, she replied looking around the immediate area.'

"After seating themselves around a table with four chairs and an umbrella for extra shade they explained the reason they were there and what they were purposing as a possible solution."

'Ms. Delacroix, you must know that you are an extraordinarily beautiful and, may I say, extremely sexy, woman and frankly, you intimidate the other women in the club. We know you have every right to do what you did yesterday, but we are here to ask that you refrain from parading around the pool area in only a skimpy bathing suit.'

'I understand, but what am I supposed to do. It's not my fault that they do not look like me and cannot hold the attention of their men. If the truth be told, I sort of did what I did on purpose. Sometimes a woman just likes to reaffirm that she still has what it takes to attract attention. What are you proposing?'

'We would like to designate a certain area of the pool grounds for your exclusive use.'

'Where would that be?'

'That grassy area behind that row of lounge chairs. What we are proposing to do is create with cement pavers a sort of patio under those shade trees, large enough for a table and chairs like these and room for, say six lounge chairs."

'I don't know; I might get awfully lonely there, all by myself."

'Hopefully you won't be there by yourself; we plan to ask three other women to join you, women who we have also received complaints about in the past.'

"Later that week, work began on the patio, and by the beginning of the following week, the patio was complete and Monique was joined by three other women. There were two "restricted area" signs in front of the patio."

"Introductions were made, stories were told, and before we knew it, we discovered that we all shared a common trait. We were all at one time or another branded 'the other woman'. I'll let the others introduce themselves and tell their stories."