Chapter 2:

Kelly:

I'm up early as usual, even on Saturday, so I read in bed for a while, then get up, leaving Jack, who's a night owl, sleeping and go to get a spot of breakfast.

My son, Zane, turned fifteen last month in August, still sleeps also.

My daughter, Indigo, nine, is awake and joins me in the kitchen, her wide blue eyes still sleepy.

"Hiii, sweetie..." I coo, ruffling her reddish-brown hair. "Want some breakfast? I'm making maple pancakes with walnuts."

We both love walnuts and unusual pancake combinations.

As we eat and chat, I look out over the London skyline, marveling still at the morning fog, even several years later.

My first husband, Kevin, who is Zane's biological dad, returned to Llanview after our divorce and we rarely see each other these days.

Jack and I live together in our flat on the tenth floor, but we're in no rush to marry.

London and most other huge cities, don't have that small-town mentality of shaming and stigmatizing non-marital births.

I think about my aunt Dorian, who during the 1990s and early 2000s, struggled with being stigmatized and sex-shamed in Llanview because she is a self-made millionaire and says what's on her mind quite bluntly.

I smile softly, thinking about how she exposed the hypocrisy of the old-money crowd that had dominated Llanview for so long.

My cousin Cassie, Aunt Dorian and I now can laugh over the time back in 1993 at a journalism awards banquet when my aunt was scared over the possibility of having breast cancer.

She'd gotten drunk over wine and had gone to the banquet with Cassie and a Jason Webb who my aunt had been dating at the time.

The then-queen matriarch of Llanview at the time, had come with her extra-marital lover, a Sloan Carpenter.

Viki's husband, who was bitter over losing Viki to Sloan, had been there with a lover of his own.

The three of them...Viki, Sloan and Clint, who were from the old-money clan, really looked down on Aunt Dorian and wasted a lot of time trashing her and calling her vile names in private while smiling and pretending to be pitying of her in public.

Well, my aunt was having none of their phoniness and called them out, telling them that the room was suffocating in hyp-ocrisy.

Cassie and Jason had been worried about my aunt partially because they were becoming aware of how vicious Viki, Clint and Sloan could be when crossed.

Now I'm glad that Cassie and Aunt Dorian can laugh about it today.

Sloan died shortly afterward and I think Viki, who has long-term mental instability coupled with DID, began to crack apart.

My aunt, who is practically a grammarian, said the word hyp-ocrisy so distinctly and quite loudly.

I would have loved to have been there at the time to see that.

I decide to ring up my aunt, since I know she is up also.

She's a diplomat and she and a team of several others are coming to London next month in October for an international summit.

She picks up after just two rings. I ask her if she wants to stay at our place for the week-long summit.

"It'll be a great chance for us to catch up and for you to see your great-niece and nephew."

"Sure...yes, I can stay over..." my aunt agrees.

I notice, however, that she sounds quite gloomy. As we talk further, I can hear a deep heavy sadness in her voice and wonder what has happened.

She's been much happier since she left Llanview and moved to DC.

She still struggles with anxiety attacks sometimes and is uncomfortable with large crowds, so per suggestion from Risa, she started therapy a year ago and I think it's helping her.

"Aunt Dorian..." I start. "Is something wrong?"

"No..." my aunt's voice breaks slightly, a sure sign that she is indeed troubled about something. "What could be...wrong?"

I know that she is feigning bafflement...my aunt, who is very emotional, has never been good at hiding her true feelings for long.

"You sound very sad," I tell her.

Aunt Dorian is quiet for a long minute and I wonder if she will make up a weak excuse about somebody being at her door or another phone call on her other line and hang up suddenly.

"It's...n-nothing, really..." my aunt's voice sounds a bit hoarse and strained from what I know is an attempt to hold in strong emotions. "A sad film I saw last night..."

"Aunt Do-rrr-iaaan..." I cajole, knowing that it's a lie, that it's more than simply a sad film that is bothering her.

I have seen my aunt occasionally cry over a sad film when we've gone to the movies together, but those cries are short-lived and after the film ends her tears usually dry quickly.

"Something is obviously troubling you," I tell her. "I know you well and I know it's something more than a sad film."

I begin to feel more worried, remembering the breast cancer she'd had long ago. I hope it's not...

"It's not bad news about your health, is it?" I ask, trying to remember if she'd recently gone for a checkup.

"No, no..." Aunt Dorian hastens to assure me, her voice stronger again, but still despondent. "Nothing like that..."

I'm relieved. "So..." I wait a minute. "Are you going to tell me what is making you gloomier than a neglected grave?"

"All right..." she reluctantly concedes. "I found out that I am an introvert." Her voice quivers.

"And...?" I prompt.

Surely, figuring out that you're introverted or extroverted wouldn't be that upsetting, would it?

"I went to my counselor and I filled out a questionnaire and had a social assessment done," Dorian sounds really distressed again. "I scored as an almost complete introvert! This is why I can't stand large crowds...you've seen me cowering in the corners at large parties...I can't make small talk with people I don't know well...an hour at any big event leaves me exhausted, overwhelmed and short-fused...I can't put on this smile in a room full of half-strangers, joking and socializing...I feel so handicapped...!"

My aunt's voice goes higher-pitched and almost squeaky and she sounds ready to cry.

My god...this is what has my aunt so upset and this miserable?

I know that I really shouldn't laugh, but the foolishness of this causes me to burst into laughter.

"Is that all?" I struggle to control my laughter.

"Kelly...!" My aunt barks, her voice no longer breaking.

"I'm sorry, but I know about these traits in people..." I manage to get my laughter down to low chuckles. "Everyone is either an extrovert, an ambivert or an introvert. And you, my dear aunt, are an introvert, which is nothing to be upset about..."

I try semi-successfully not to snort with another wave of laughter.

My aunt, much as I love her dearly, can be a drama queen and sometimes blows things out of proportion.

"I really don't think this is very funny, Kelly!" my aunt is becoming annoyed now. "It's still causing me a lot of problems...a few moments ago, as I was brooding this, I realize that it caused me so much of my misery back in Llanview..."

I take deep breaths to control my laughter because I really don't want to hurt her feelings or make her feel foolish or invalidate her painful feelings.

"I'm sorry, Aunt Dorian," I try to reassure her. "I really don't mean to make light of your feelings...I know this is hard for you."

"Apology accepted," my aunt says rather stiffly.

"Listen...Aunt Dorian...when do you see your counselor again...?" I ask.

"Friday," she tells me.

I'm relieved that she is calmer now, not as sad and not as annoyed, but I still hear a stiff wariness in her voice as if she fears being laughed at again.

My aunt is still a very proud woman, having been a tough fighter who worked her way up from childhood poverty and abuse.

"Well, go ahead and discuss it further," I advise her. "And Aunt Dorian...you'll find out that close to twenty percent of the human population shares this trait that you have...it is perfectly normal and healthy to be an introvert...it's like being left-handed or gay or bi."

I throw this last bit in because my aunt is bisexual and we both know two transsexuals in our immediate lives.

Marty Saybrooke, who used to be Margaret, converted to Martin Saybrooke about five years ago.

The last I heard, he now lives in Philadelphia and is with an orchestra there that travels performing all sorts of concerts.

Cassie's child and Aunt Dorian's oldest grandchild had been born and had grown up a boy named River, but a few years ago, converted to a woman who now goes by Risa.

I'm so glad that slowly but surely, the world in general is growing more accepting of gays, bisexuals and transgenders.

"I didn't know this..." Now my aunt's voice is softer, quieter and I'm relieved.

This tells me that she is at least thinking over what I've told her. She still has many fears, which she often hides behind a wall of pride and a haughty-seeming exterior, but she has improved since escaping Llanview.

I'm glad because Washington, DC is a huge, diverse city that is generally a lot safer, less judgmental and kinder than Llanview.

This is a large part of why I moved to London and why Blair, Todd and their three kids now live in New York City and why Cassie and Risa moved to Ohio near where Aunt Dorian was born after she and Joe Buchanan split up.

Risa now goes to George Washington University, where she is studying medicine.

She may end up following in her grandmum's footsteps.

"I've done lots of reading on this," I reassure her. "Lots of very successful people are introverts. Your counselor and I can help you with this...this doesn't mean you are any social misfit."

"You've always enjoyed small groups," I add. "Remember when Blair was pregnant with Starr and we gathered in your room planning that second wedding?"

"Yes, I remember..." My aunt sounds as if she's feeling better now even if she's still a bit sad.

"For your birthday coming up in early November, I'd like to send you a great book a friend told me about," I tell her. "My friend is slightly introverted herself and she swears that reading this book helped her enormously. Introvert Power. If I send it to you, do you promise to read it?"

My aunt is quiet for a minute, then slowly she tells me, "All right...I'll read it..."

"You'll find that being an introvert has advantages also," I tell her.

I'm glad I am able to pull her out of the sad slump she was in although knowing her, it will take her a while to completely recover.

My aunt and I move on to planning our London gathering and even chatting a bit about the kids before I hear Jack and Zane stirring and realize that it is almost noon.

I still think Aunt Dorian overreacted a bit to finding out about her introverted nature.

But I guess since she spent too many years of her life living in the highly social, but small town of Llanview where virtually everybody knew everybody, gossip spread around more rapidly than the flu and covid combined, where people's private affairs were easily publicized and where the unconventional was shamed and awfulized, her seemingly out-of-proportion feelings were understandable.

2022 Storyline Copyright by CNJ