July 8
"Decent day at work. Not very busy, but summers are usually slow in the florist business with everyone having their own gardens in bloom. It's a cute little shop on West Tenth, just a short bus ride from home. I seem to have already gathered quite a following of loyal regulars, like this lady Camille who comes in sometimes just to say hi. She would be my mother's age, a recent widow. I like her because she is just so completely unadorned. I don't think she's ever dyed her now almost white hair in her life and she wears it proudly, like a helmet of platinum Neither does she wear make up, but always nicely done up, often in flower print summer dresses. I guess she's lonely. Well, so am I.
Still no progress since my blow up yesterday at the church followed by my little encore with Jim at supper. But right now, there is something truly insidious starting to happen. Jim sat me down in his office after dinner to fill me in. He has been advised by the rector to try to find for me other accommodations. Chris, you know. They are now all terrified that this ex drag queen homosexual ex hooker is going to somehow taint and corrupt his darling teenage boy. Ha! As if!
He has already reassured me that he is not going to cave. He even has asked me if I will appear with him before the church counsel, since now he thinks they really need to hear my story and from my own lips.
I don't like any of this. And now I am finding myself feeling wary of everyone, including Jim and even of Chris, since I really don't know now if he is going to end up turning on me...
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